#thank you again for this ask i’m sorry i’ve had this q on reserve for this long typing is stupid | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

meat-wentz · 2 years

Note

Not to be creepy but I’ve been lurking through all your playlists on Spotify because of the pool boy one and duuuuuude their so good! I know you mentioned having a process about playlists so can you spill your secrets because apparently I need to up my playlist game.

omgggg not creepy at all, ty for listening to my brain worms!!!! ALSO THANK YOU FOR THIS QUESTION I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ON HOW TO CREATE PERFECT PLAYLISTS. buckle up for a long post. (links at the end lol)

this is a habit primarily formed out of two things:

1) making personalized mix cds for my friends through high school and into college because i never had money to buy them gifts for birthdays or holidays. (literally a core tenant of this practice was starting every mix with money by the drums so they knew “i want to buy you something but i don’t have any money”). this helps you cater your music taste to a specific person, encapsulate who they are to you, and also what you want to give them as a sign of your affection, whether it be a song that aligns with their music taste, or a song that sends a message (i want to buy you something), or just something that describes the relationship you two have. this skill helps a lot when you move from friends to characters and shaping those characters in your brain!

2) watching a lot of movies, promptly downloading the soundtracks onto my ipod and studying them throughout high school and college. in fact, much of my music taste has been formed by my favorite movies so i always recommend putting on your favorite soundtracks and studying the way they capture the feeling, atmosphere, visuals, and narrative of the movie they’re attached to.

^ this has also helped me INFINITELY with writing, fiction or non-fiction, i always need to be completely immersed when i write and what i listen to is soooo important in keeping me in the headspace. for instance i wrote an huge portion of an essay on haunted houses as physical/traumatized bodies solely listening to get out of my house by kate bush on repeat for like months.

i typically start with a few things if i’m going for a more themed, narrative playlist: a title, three core songs, and a sort of visual guide (typically a playlist cover, could be a bit of a mood board if you prefer), a little bit of a one or two sentence narrative in the back of my head.

title says what it’s going to be and keeps you in the headspace, similarly with the cover art. these things keep me from straying too far from the sound or narrative im attempting to set up. getting distracted during playlists is easy to do!! you might want to put every cheeky vampire song on the damn thing but that’s not what we’re here to do! we keep it concise, it’s a curation, specifically selected songs in a specifically set order. this is why it’s always good to have that one or two sentence plot in the back of your head along with the three core songs. they’re like your beginning, middle and end. use those three songs to build from sound-wise and narrative-wise/transition from the beginning to the middle to the end.

you’ll notice that pool boy at the vampire mansion has three separate sections: a short opening of three songs about swimming/wetness/being sexy (focus on the fact that he’s a damn pool boy), a middle which is mostly funky little covers of disco/groove songs all surrounding the center piece stayin alive, all very sexy (pool shed sex chapter), and then the maneating blood fiend portion at the end, songs that focus on blood, murder, maneating, etc (pool boy now fully aware his employers are blood-sucking fiends). transitioning from one chapter to the next with a little side step into the 80’s and back out.

REMEMBER: COVERS ARE YOUR FRIEND. it would not have made sense for my personal ear to hear the original versions of the little disco chapter, instead opting for more industrial grit, dirty guitar noises, heavy bass, growling or screamy or sultry vocals, AND COVERS HELP ME ACHIEVE THAT. you’ll also notice the sexy boy motif, beginning with the og and ending with a dramatic sweeping strings cover, it shows we start somewhere and we end up somewhere else, the same but changed in a notable way (i do this a lot with specifically character based playlists). beginnings and ends are very important, sometimes i mirror them sonically, sometimes literally through good use of a cover, sometimes i’ll even opt for, like, pure atmosphere like wood larks chirping in a forest ssoundscape, no music at all.

puns and subverting songs to fit your needs creates a rich a layered text!! for instance “i’m your boogie man” means hello i boogie down on the dance floor, but in the context of a vampire playlist: that’s a literal boogieman in your closet.

also references are everything for people listening who will get it even if others don’t. this is why i pay so much attention to soundtracks! like you may not see operate by peaches as a halloween song but guess the fuck what it’s the song that plays during the halloween party in mean girls. you may not see backstreet’s back as a halloween song but if you watch the music video, that’s a fucking halloween song. make the reference!! it’s rewarding!! fit songs to your needs!!

i’ve mentioned this before but i got a lot of experience just being on 8tracks and listening to themed playlists there for years on end, as well as finding a BUNCH of music i wouldn’t have found otherwise.

some general rules i like to abide by:

personal playlists can be whatever, but themed playlists should adhere to a specific order and flow, as well as limiting play time to an hour and a half at most (feature film length or, generally i go for hour playlists that are the length of a good hour long episode of television)

generally try to limit the same artist to two or three songs at most, and never next to each other unless it’s like a FEATURE that those songs are next to each other.

spotify recommends proves to be a useful tool if you’re stuck.

i try to be subtle. if im making a playlist about a certain film, i won’t use a song from the actual movie, or i’ll opt for a cover of a song from the film instead. if i’m making a playlist about gerard or frank or whoever, i won’t put any of their music on the playlist (i will however use music they’ve mentioned liking). if im making a vampire playlist or a fairy playlist or whatever, i’ll try to avoid vampire or fairy songs and opt for songs about like blood or fangs or the forest instead.

also rules were made to be broken! i break my rules all the time! my style will not be everyone’s but ive found it to be successful for my playlist needs and also just generally in aiding my creativity. i will now plug some of my favorite themed playlists ive made:

Pool Boy at the Vampire Mansion

I’ll See You in My Dreams: A Twin Peaks Love Story

Misty Mud-Laiden Moors

Fever Dreams of the Erl King and His Thorny Touch

A Sleepy Western Motel Crawling with Vampire Cowboys

Songs for Sleuthing

Teenaged Outlaws

Ivy Leagues & Old Money

Anthems for Slutty Mechanics

The Flaxen-Haired Maiden and the Knight of the Seelie Court

NEW!! Sit. Stay. Beg.

i should also mention that i have a few reserve playlists of JUST music to add to playlists at some point, organized into: songs i just want to weasel in somewhere or will be helpful later, just covers, atmospheric or instrumental, and just generally spooky or sexy songs waiting to be somewhere. sometimes i’ll scroll through each of those and be like aha! a theme!! and go for it!!

#playlist #anon #anon i’m sorry to answer this while the queen is literally dead lmao but here you go if you want it still #thank you again for this ask i’m sorry i’ve had this q on reserve for this long typing is stupid

10 notes · View notes

nnightskiess · 4 years

Text

santana lopez imagine

r e q u e s t: Can you do a reader x Santana lopez? Where reader and Santana are best friends but reader has been in love with santana for a long time and becomes distant and santana wants to know why and finally knows and just fluff. Thank you

✫彡

Y/N zoned out the conversation Quinn, Brittany and Santana were having and instead fully focused on the smile on Santana’s face. She’d been friends with the girl long enough to know that this smile meant that she felt at ease.

The corners of Y/N’s mouth curled into a smile at the sight of it as she kept staring at her best friend. Her cheeks flushed when Santana turned her head, just to check up on Y/N who had been a bit quiet. She’d caught the girl staring. Santana’s expression softened a bit before she joined the conversation again.

It had been like this a lot the past few weeks— Y/N zoning out just to stare and admire Santana, only for her to get caught by the latter. However, Santana didn’t seem to mind or notice and thus Y/N’s crush on the girl grew larger every day.

What had been the turning point? The mindless random kisses they used to share now and then? Which in Santana’s defence were just so that they kept practicing until a cute boy came along. The way Santana only let Y/N see the real her? How Santana carried herself? Or how she could light up Y/N’s world by just a smile or a witty comment? Well, Y/N couldn’t quite put a finger on it. But there was so much about Santana that she adored and liked that it wouldn’t be fair to her to just pick one.

Her mouth set in a hard line. No. She couldn’t fall in love with Santana. It wouldn’t end well. What if Santana got weirded out by it and decided that it would be too awkward to stay friends? Y/N couldn’t bear to lose the girl.

“You okay?”

Quinn and Brittany continued their conversation while Santana’s attention went to the girl next to her. Y/N nodded softly, sending her a tight-lipped smile.

“Here,” Santana handed her the rest of her granola bar in an attempt to cheer her up. Because even though Y/N denied something was wrong, she could see right through her best friend. “And you better eat it because I don’t usually share my food.”

Brittany heard the two and shoved her lunchbox towards Y/N. It was filled with the Lucky Charms marshmellows. “It took me four boxes to fill it like this but eating this usually makes me happy so I hope it works for you too.”

“Are you trying to cheer her up or give her diabetes?” Quinn snorted and shook her head in amusement.

“Thanks, Britt, but i'm fine.”

“Suit yourself.” Brittany shrugged, held the lunchbox up to her chest and grabbed a handful. Quinn grimaced at the thought of having to eat that much sweetness in one bite.

Santana hadn’t stopped staring at Y/N during the conversation, her brows knit together when she realised something was up. She scooted her chair closer to the girl, grabbed the sleeve of her Cheerios jacket and rested her head softly against the girl’s shoulder. Y/N smiled sheepishly while Santana’s frown never disappeared, wondering what kept her best friend so silent, the soft encounter between the two not going unnoticed by Brittany.

✫彡

Santana strutted around the school’s hallway, head held high. She looked fierce, confident and oh so ethereal— if you asked Y/N. The small smirk on her face turned to a smile when she locked eyes with her best friend, Y/N, who was already staring at her from her spot at her locker.

“How’s the only person I tolerate in this school doing?” She challengingly raised an eyebrow as she came to a stop next to the girl.

Y/N stared into her eyes for a second, seeing them twinkle. The two girls lingered for a moment in a comfortable silence until the sound of a locker slamming shut cut the girl back to reality.

“Hey, you okay?”

Santana’s smile turned into frown, seeing how quiet Y/N seemed.

“Hm? Sorry, yeah...”

The Latina squeezed her eyes in suspicion but decided to let it go, knowing how Y/N worked. If she tried to pry and get it out of her, Y/N would only shut her out even more. She’d come to her when she wanted to or when she was ready.

“Okay, hear me out— I know you’re insecure about singing high notes but I’ve found the perfect song for us to sing for next week’s assignment.”

Y/N bit her lip and closed her locker, “I kind of already agreed to sing with Rory...”

“Wait, what? Why?” Santana’s face immediately scrunched up. “And roll back a minute— out of all of them you pick that leprechaun? Let me guess, you’re going to sing his national anthem while he’s Irish dancing in the background, clad in all green while throwing lucky charms out of his pot of gold?”

“Santana...”

The brunette sighed, letting it go, not being able to resist the pleading look on Y/N’s face.

“He asked me first and he was so shy about it, it was adorable. And he’s new and doesn’t really know anyone yet so it was hard to turn him away... and um, he told me we’d discuss the song over dinner at Breadstix so how could I turn that away?”

“So he asked you out on a date?”

“N-No-”

Santana rolled her eyes at the girl’s obliviousness, “And by the way,” She raised her hand, “Since when do I have to ask you to partner up? We always do everything together?”

Y/N shrugged, “I’m sorry, San. A promise is a promise. But I think you need to start looking for another partner unless you want to end up with Mr. Schue.”

Santana's jaw clenched in irritation as Y/N walked off without another word.

✫彡

Santana worry and confusion only grew when Y/N walked passed her and sat down next to Rachel, completely ignoring her usual seat next to Santana. Rory walked into the room. She immediately sent the boy a glare before he sat down next to Y/N. He slightly glanced over his shoulder and as he felt Santana’s eyes on him, he slowly put his arm around Y/N— feeling bold. The girl barely scooted away from him, trying not to hurt his feelings, but it was enough for Santana to notice her discomfort.

Oh, hell no.

✫彡

“Hey, St. Paddy!” Santana’s loud voice rang through the courtyard, making Rory stop in his tracks.

“Oh, boy, here we go.” He slowly mumbled to himself.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He turned around and saw how furious she was by the frown on her face and the fire in her eyes.

“What do you mean, Santana?”

She gave him a dirty look, “Oh, cut the crap, cardigan... You know what I’m talking about.”

“It’s... Flanagan...”

“Whatever-” She rolled her eyes. “Listen closely and don’t open your mouth before i’m done talking, okay?”

Rory nodded hesitantly, not sure if this already counted.

“You’ve got a crush on Y/N. I have eyes. I’m not stupid. But I get it, she’s gorgeous, caring, softhearted and is the best thing in this world since sliced bread. But what she’ll never be, is yours.” She pointed a finger at his chest. “So don’t try and act all adorable while sneakily taking her on a date... because if we’re being honest, she probably just said yes because she pitied you after realising that if she said no, you would have no one to sing with. And since you were oblivious to all of that, I think you also missed the fact that she isn’t into you at all.”

He rose his eyebrows in shock as Santana let her mind run rampant, not sparing his feelings. Rory awkwardly held onto the straps of his backpack.

“Here’s what’s going to happen— first, you’re going to call Breadstix and cancel your reservations...then you’re going to call Y/N and tell her you changed your mind about being duet partners.” Santana gave him a mock smile and was about to walk away. “Oh— and if you ever put your disgusting arm around her again, I’ll kick your ass so hard it will send you flying back to Ireland in just a few seconds. Got it?”

Rory nodded again and watched Santana walk away with a pleased smirk on her face.

✫彡

Santana tapped the girl on her shoulder and whispered, “Wanna go to Breadstix tonight? I heard they have one free table for tomorrow night.”

Y/N turned around in her seat, sending a glare her way before focusing back on the class. Santana looked to Brittany, taken back and in confusion, but she just shrugged.

✫彡

“I little birdie told me you need a new duet partner.” Santana walked up to Y/N’s locker, hands in the pockets of her comfy Cheerios jacket.

The smile on her face disappeared when Y/N slammed her locker shut and turned to her with her brows furrowed.

“Jeez, who put nails in your shoes today?”

“I know it was you.”

Santana shrugged, “So? I spared you the painful situation where you had to reject him... plus, now you get to sing with me. So change that frown into one of your pretty smiles because I know just the perfect song for us to sing.” She perked up but her cheerful expression vanished once again when Y/N walked away from her. She pursed her lips and frowned in confusion as she watched the girl hurry out of the school.

✫彡

Things had been different since that afternoon. The two barely interacted or even looked at each other anymore, which was all mainly Y/N’s fault. It had even caught the attention of the other Glee club members since Y/N tried to ignore Santana as if she was some disease she wanted to steer clear of. It was out of character for the both of them not to be together.

“Everything okay with you and San?” Brittany leaned over so that no one else could hear.

Y/N gave her a small smile, as if nothing was wrong, “Oh- yeah, yes, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

Y/N hummed in return, turning to face Mr. Schue but Brittany scooted even closer before mumbling, “I think you should just tell her how you feel.”

Her head shot to the side, eyes wide as saucers. Brittany didn’t seem to realise how panicked her statement had made the girl feel. Y/N was still trying to stay cool when Mr. Schue called her name.

“Rory and Y/N, would you two like to perform your duet today?”

The two shared a quick glance before Y/N opened her mouth,

“Oh, w-we’re not partners anymore. Can Tina and I perform instead?”

Santana cocked her head to the side at that new information, seeing Tina nod. They had apparently already planned this out.

“But Tina’s partnered up with Brittany?”

“Yeah, I know, but she doesn’t mind singing twice.”

Mr. Schue rose his eyebrows in confusion. “But we’re with an even number of members so how come you have no partner?”

Rory’s arm slowly went up, “Santana has no partner either.”

“Shut up, leprechaun.”

“I thought that was what you wanted?” Rory mumbled at her but slowly turned back around at the look Santana shot him.

Mr. Schue seemed a bit confused to why the two best friends didn’t seem to want to pair up together. However, that gave him all the more reasons to make them partner up. Maybe whatever was going on between the two would be taken care of that way.

“Santana, Y/N— you’ll be up next week. Alright?”

The two girls shared a glance before Y/N focused back on what Mr. Schue was saying.

✫彡

“Y/N/N, can we meet up after practice? We really need to plan how we want to sing the song if we want to win. You still okay with singing Aguilera?”

Y/N nodded absentmindedly, not really paying any attention to Santana. Because she knew that if she did, she wouldn’t be able to stop looking at the girl. Besides, the love in her eyes would probably not be missed by Santana and she obviously didn’t want her to know.

“Hey?”

“Hm?” Y/N looked up, trying her best to not look into her eyes for too long. But the worry and hurt in them broke Y/N’s act.

“I’m worried about you.” Santana placed her hand on top of Y/N’s, squeezing it.

“Don’t be.” Y/N mumbled out softly, trying to brush things under the carpet.

“Did I do something wrong? Was it the thing with Rory? Or back when-”

“No.” She shook her head, “Don’t worry, okay? You could never do something wrong in my eyes.”

Santana smiled at that.

“Great. So if I’m not the problem, then please tell me why you’ve been so distant with me lately?”

Y/N panicked slightly and racked her brain for anything. “Just... stuff.” She could slap herself for that weak excuse.

“Stuff?” Santana gave her a look, not buying it. “What stuff? Stuff at school? At home? Personal stuff?”

Y/N nodded softly at the last one and looked at her lap.

“Want to talk to me about it?” Santana’s voice was as soft as a feather and barely even audible.

Y/N didn’t look up from her lap and shook her head.

“That’s okay.” Santana scooted closer to her best friend, “Then I’m just going to have to-” But when she was about to wrap her arms around Y/N to comfort her, the girl quickly pushed her away, grabbed her stuff and walked out leaving Santana clueless to what she had done wrong.

✫彡

“I’m telling you, Britt, she ran away like I was some bee circling around her.”

Brittany smiled sympathetically. She could see it really affected Santana.

“Oh, God.” She groaned and held the bridge of her nose. “She’s been like that every time I get close to her, what if it makes her uncomfortable? See?! I should just keep it all to myself, it’s better that way. I haven’t even told her anything yet and she’s already distancing herself from me.”

Brittany sighed loudly, “There you go again— putting two and two together and making six. You worry too much.”

Santana crossed her arms and let out a breathy, sarcastic chuckle, “I worry too much? She’s my best friend— I can’t lose her.”

Brittany’s smile softened, “I know. But you won’t. Sometimes you just have to take the leap and hope that a flying unicorn will scoop you up out of the sky. And I hope Y/N will jump onto its back as well... unless she’s scared of horses...”

Santana smiled at Brittany’s explanation,

“Thanks, Britt.”

✫彡

Santana was talking with Brittany when Y/N walked passed the two, basically making a b-line to the exit of the football fields.

“Okay, this has got to stop.”

Santana rushed after her, Brittany following suit— afraid Santana was going to lose her rag.

“Y/N, stop-” Santana grabbed her wrist, making the girl turn around. “-and fucking explain to me what’s going on? I’m sick of you acting like this.” She waved her hands around.

Y/N pulled her hand back and squinted her eyes as she looked at Santana before walking off again.

“Oh, no no no. Not so fast, lady.” When Santana grabbed her shoulder, Y/N turned around and pushed her off.

Santana widened her eyes at seeing Y/N so on the fence.

“Why can’t you just leave me be? I’ve been trying so hard to ignore you and ignore everything I’ve been cropping up inside but you just keep...on...bugging me!”

Normally, Santana would fire back some witty and fiery reply but she was at a loss for words. She’d never seen Y/N like this.

“I-I’m s-sorry. I’m so-” Y/N immediately excused herself and groaned before kicking the trashcan next to the bleachers, startling both Brittany and Santana.

Santana glanced at Brittany, silently asking her to give them a moment. The blonde nodded and walked back to the other Cheerios.

Santana wasn’t sure what to do or say. She wanted to hug Y/N and hold her hand to comfort her, but would she be pushed away again if she did?

“I haven’t been a good friend to you lately...” Y/N started and looked up into her eyes.

“You can’t always be amazing at everything.” Santana complimented her and smirked softly, trying to lighten the mood. But her face turned serious again when Y/N didn’t seem to appreciate the effort.

“But it’s okay. Let’s acknowledge it for a few seconds and then move on and be like we used to be.” Santana took a measured step closer to the girl.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” The brunette immediately shot back, feeling angry and confused once again. Y/N wrapped her arms around herself and softly looked up into Santana’s eyes, which were filled with hurt and worry.

“I-”

She closed her mouth again, how was she supposed to say that she’d been in love with Santana for weeks now?

“I’ve been really respectful towards this all and I’ve given you time to come to me, but this time we’re not going to walk away before I know what’s up. So, tell me.”

Even while Santana glared at her, Y/N could still feel her insides turn to jelly. Y/N looked at the crinkle between her eyebrows and how she slightly pouted her lips together. Her stare lingered a little on her lips, before she quickly looked back into Santana’s eyes. But upon looking, she noticed that Santana’s gaze was fixated on her own lips.

“T-Tell me now...” Santana cleared her throat and tried to raise her voice again, but it was clear that her mind was elsewhere. She tried to look mad, but Y/N noticed how hard it was for Santana to keep up the tough act.

Their stare lingered for a moment before Y/N turned her back to Santana to walk back into the school. But before she could take a step, Santana’s voice interrupted her.

“I love you.”

Y/N froze.

“And you ignoring me hurts me so damn much. So, please, don’t. I don’t know what I did wrong but I’d really like to know.”

It took Y/N a moment to gain the courage to turn back around but when she did, she saw that Santana was on the verge of tears.

“I hope this won’t make you ignore me even more.” She quickly glanced around the area before wiping away a tear.

“Please say something.”

“Santana...”

She immediately took a few steps back when Y/N approached her.

“No, no- it’s fine-” She waved her off. Y/N closed her eyes, ridding herself of any doubts and insecurities. She opened them again and wasted no time in cupping the girl’s cheeks to place a soft, chaste kiss on her lips.

The two parted, Santana’s face filled with confusion. It wasn’t like they had never kissed before, so what exactly did this kiss mean? Was this just out of pity?

Y/N left her no time to ponder when she attached her lips against Santana’s once more. She put much more pressure into this one, and when Y/N opened her mouth, Santana swore she could feel her heart explode. She quickly grabbed onto Y/N’s neck and kissed back, not wanting to let it go unanswered.

They slowly let go of each other after a few seconds.

“I know I asked you to say something but this was much better.” She blinked her eyes a few times as Y/N let out a breathy chuckle,

“I know, right?”

“Does that...Does that mean-”

“Damn, you don’t catch on very fast, do you?”

Santana rolled her eyes but not without grinning like an idiot. She presented her pinky to Y/N, the other girl locking hers around it as they kept looking at each other, beaming from ear to ear.

✫彡

The band started playing the first tunes of the song on their trumpets. Everyone’s eyes widened and some of the girls cheered at the run Y/N started the song off with. Santana looked at her with the widest smile on her face before starting to dance the little choreography they had come up with it. She was more than proud of Y/N shoving her insecurities to the side and still singing this song. Her voice was perfect for this song, which was mainly why Santana had picked it out, she wanted the girl to shine more.

“I don’t know what you did, boy, but you had it.”

The two faced each other and sang together. Santana smirked while singing.

"That every time I see you everything starts making sense, yeah.”

Everyone clapped when they started singing the chorus. Santana turned towards Y/N at her part, making her take steps back by slightly pushing the girl’s shoulder.

It was clear to everyone that whatever had been happening before, had been solved now. Santana and Y/N seemed at ease around each other again. They acted just like before. Well... not exactly the same, but most of them brushed it off.

Mr. Schue mentally applauded himself for putting the two together. It had clearly resolved their problems. But Brittany knew the real reason of why they had made up. She grinned, enjoying the performance, but also because she was the only one who knew their little secret. It was about time. She had tried to silently drop hints to them that they both liked each other here and there for the longest time. When Santana had returned that afternoon with the biggest smile on her face, Brittany knew enough.

Santana and Y/N grinned their hearts out at each other after ending the song and locked their pinkies behind their backs.

#santana lopez #santana lopez imagine #santana lopez x reader #santana lopez / you #santana lopez one shot #glee #glee imagines #glee x reader #glee one shot #glee imagine #naya rivera #naya rivera imagine #naya rivera imagines #naya rivera x reader

633 notes · View notes

kyotakumrau · 4 years

Text

2021.03.09 USEN STUDIO COAST '目黒鹿鳴館GIG' 1st session with Die and Shinya.

As usual the staff prepared two tables and chairs for the talk event (this time high tables). Fujieda started with greetings, introductions and asked for the applause for the band members.

Shinya and Die came on stage! 💗❤️

Shinya wore brown coat, he sat next to Takabayashi. His pinkish hair looks nice!

Die had very majestic look, starting with his crazy hair, sunglasses and a suit/jacket. He sat at the right table next to F.

S: I'm Shinya, hello.

D: I'm Die. It's been a while.

To start with F asked them how they feel about being in Coast again. S said it's been 2 years since the last time, he even took a picture of the venue board. D said it really brings him back, he feels it's like coming home for them, they play at Coast so often, he wants to play there again soon.

F: usually the audience area is packed, so this feels quite unusual.

D: it's probably the 1st time I see it like that.

Next F asked them about playing at Rock-May-Kan. S said it didn't feel like it's been long time as he went there few times in private. F asked him about the songs he had to practice with Toshiya, but S had remembered them soon. D said he didn't feel the same excitement as when playing normal show, but he was really happy to rehearse and play together with the rest of members, and also to see all staff members again. He could feel things are finally moving forward.

Next they looked at the new leaflet with the Oboro promo photo published today.

S: there's one extra person.

😂

D: when you just look quickly it's like 'did Kyo got long hair?'. Normally you wouldn't expect this, to have someone lying down. Quite a challenge.

F: for someone looking the first time, I wonder what did they think.

D: this image is connected to the PV.

F: Kyo said earlier it's refreshing

D: which part of it???!

They chuckle at the Taiyou no Ao remix comparison.

D: it was more like filming the PV for Zan way back, with all the blood and being dirty.

F: what do you think S, same idea as before?

S: the world in the video also comes from the にくづきに龍 (月+龍=朧) combination.

D asked what they mean about it and F told him about S earlier talking about the kanji parts.

D: ...はい。・...okay?!

F: Like Taiyou no Ao.

D: ...はい。・...okay?!

F: How do you feel about first show in a year and 3 months?

D: ...how to say... we can't do normal concerts yet, last year we plated wothout audience, but doing nothing in this period didn't feel good, we wanted to try something. Like entering the ring (踏切??)

S then said he was informed about the new SOGAI concert by the official LINE announcement😂

S: I've never been to Tokyo Garden Theater, neither to perform or see someone, so it will be first time for me.

T: it's a new venue.

F: it's quite big.

D: Anything after that show?

T: Like?

D: Like a tour? No other announcements?

😂we want that too!!!!

Next, F moved the talk to the merchandise topic.

F: how's the bag, S?

S: I've used it for the first time today, everything fit perfectly.

T showed us the hoodie as he was wearing it - he said it was perfect because he's cold.

D: If he's cold we should give him the thingy!

(the thingy aka rechargeable heat pack/kairo)

F: ah I have it here somewhere... (searches in the bag)

D: didn't bring it?!

F: got it!💦

D: let's give it to T, he's cold!

They talked about the safe 40℃ level, then S said his recommendation is usb power strip.

F said it's perfect when fans travel as they can charge various devices at once when staying in a hotel. Talking about travel - he also recommended travel pouch, there's a hook so you can hang it, even in shower.

T (carefully): even in shower?

F: maybe not shower, but in the room.

D: with key holders, Shinya looks exactly alike.

S (counters quickly): everyone does

😂

S: but why is everyone doing this pose? (He mimics the head being very low)

D: true😆 you should try, it's like a magic trick, can you do it?

S: I won't.

D: let's try backstage.

😂

F also recommended the pass case, that it's good to hold your commuter pass and D started to joke about the commuter pass and going to Tokyo show😆

After that they moved to the questions from fans.

F: hayfever is a very popular topuc this time.

D said he doest have it and he also asked bout what symptoms people have, when they start etc. He said he's good but he's aware that for Kyo it's quite severe, they have to be careful planning recording in spring, nasal congestion can affect singing a lot.

F: Kaoru also has it, gets runny nose etc

S: For me not even a drop (he said 1 milliliter

)

D: you should really get it once.

D: "to S, happy birthday! Each year you're becoming cooler and cooler!"

S: ...you're just making that up.

D: "You're the best, lav ya. From Die from DIR EN GREY."

😆

S is the only one without an event on his birthday.

D: why wasn't there one?

F: we couldn't book a venue.

D: not even in Okinawa or something?

T: Okinawa...

D: it could work?

S: how is it possible that for 23 years there was never available venue for my birthday?

next they talked a bit about past events.

D brought a memory from the time when they went to play in Australia, they had teouble with their return flight to Japan. They were supposed to leave and arrive in Japan in the evening and start rehearsal for Budokan, but the flight got cancelled. They arrived in Japan in the morning and started rehearsal the same day.

F: it's good that you made it.

D: there are cancellations and delays when traveling abroad. And lost luggage.

F: the story from Mexico.

D: yeah, never put valuable items in the suitcase. And we have to be careful when planning flights.

F: We were in Mexico for your birthday.

D: I remember there was an interesting cake, like a ring, it didn't have a strong taste...

F: so it was bad?

D: you're so rude.

F: and there was S birthday when we were in Australia.

S: I don't remember which city.

F: a solo concert?

D: I think it was a festival.

S: I don't remember anything.

Next they talked about the age of one staff there.

They also talked about Eva, S watched just a bit, D is not interested.

D: do you watch movies?

S: no

D: are 2h too long for you?

S: yeah, I prefer dramas.

D: so 3h gonna be out of question?

S: impossible.

D: 90mins?

S: eh... maybe somehow.

D: I'm gonna look for a good suspense under 90 mins, you definitely raise the bar high!

D: ...ah this q is for/about Toshiya. about the seat arrangement when we travel.

They talked about their seating preferences, S clearly favors window side. They usually don't check the seats carefully, besides S, and once D just sat at window in the row they reserved. S then: you're in my seat (そこ、俺の...), D: sorry(ごめん)💦

😂

S also said he's not bothered by window because he doesn't really stand up that much (even on 6h flights) and he thinks it's harder for the aisle person to let window person out.

D: so it's okay if I put lots of stuff there, an open bento on the table, a drink in a cup, stretch my legs etc, no problem?

S: it's fine.

D: よし・got it！😆

D: "what do you want to do after the state of emergency is lifted?"

S: I don't go out much so nothing will change for me.

D: right. There are not many restrictions.

F said the most troublesome part is that most shops close at 8pm so going shopping is difficult.

F: "who in the band hates to lose the most?"

D (pointing at S): of course S. He even said that he doesn't get a drop of runny nose never getting sick (S just nods it's true). Like catching a cold is a big deal. So you never get a fever? Even low one like 37℃？

S: I don't.

D: you're lying right?

S:I don't.

D: you should really get one once.

But then S also nominated D as someone who hates losing, describing D's reactions when playing bowling or darts, F and T agreed with him😆

F: we have time for one more last q.

S: "I like the old logo on the badge"

(F picked it up to show it on the screen)

S: "do you have any memories related to the old logo?"

D talked about the indies bands priting stickers like that treating it like business cards.

S: Do you remember the first B&W logo?

D nods

S: do you really or you just nod?

D: I talked about it a lot before (previous event).

S: Really? I didn't know.

F: about this and your make up spot.

D: in Heartland (in Nagoya).

S: I remember that.

Then F talked about the announcements again and then asked them for a comment to fans.

Shinya: Thank you for coming. There is also the 2nd session, I don't know if I'm coming to it, but people who are coming please enjoy the event, you will have to leave the venue and enter again after waiting an hour.

Die: Thank you for coming this afternoon. Every time when I stand on a stage in Shinkiba I see the view of fans full of energy and excitement, I want to play again soon and see such view. For now we will do our best for the concert in Tokyo Garden Theater. I hope to see you there. Thank you so much for today.

#dir en grey #shinya #die #目黒鹿鳴館gig #translation #attempt at live report

113 notes · View notes

calm-and-wine · 4 years

Text

(I’ll give you) the best years

part II (masterlist)

Hello hello, sorry it took a while, but here is part 2 and part 3 is already in the works (so is part 4 🙈). I’d love to hear your thoughts, ideas, what you’ll like to see in the future and whatever else is on your minds!

Once again huge thank you to Anna @silverrank for making sure my writing actually makes sense and isn’t complete gibberish. And a big thank you to @booksncoffee for this beautiful banner.

Enjoy!

PART II

September 2023

There was no other word to describe the first days of being married but bliss. Absolute pure bliss. And it wasn’t even because of the stunning scenery of Maui, their luxury little beach house and beautiful turquoise water of the ocean. It was the bliss of being able to spend every minute with the person you were madly in love with, with no worries occupying your mind, nowhere to go and nothing to do, but enjoy each other and celebrate the official new chapter of your lives. In a way, the wedding didn’t change all that much for Lucy and Niall; they already lived together and they had been sure of their relationship being the one for a while now. But somehow it did change their mindsets a bit. They always thought about their future together, but now it was a given, there were no questions, no hesitation when making plans or talking about growing old.

A part of Lucy had used to think of marriage as a piece of paper, and in some cases it probably was like that, but right now she saw it as a bigger union. Like she and Niall were a proper team now. They were a family, after all.

Lucy was never a person who could do nothing. She was used to some kind of practice usually two times a day, meeting with people, doing meal prep, analysing her games and thinking about strategy or possible improvements. However, she was quite surprised to find herself truly enjoying the honeymoon, even though as of now it consisted of spending most of their time in bed (or other places in the house), reading books on the patio, swimming or playing board games in between. There were worse things to preoccupy her time with than enjoying the body of Niall Horan and letting him adore hers.

“I have no idea how I’ll be able to play in a few days.” Lucy sighed between licks of her ice lolly. A lot of the places the tennis tour took place are quite hot, so the weather shouldn’t bother her too much, but she was never actually a big fan of heat. The ten days in Maui were just the start of their honeymoon, which had to be split in two, because she qualified for the WTA finals, where only eight best players of that year had the opportunity to compete. It was the second year she was lucky enough to be a part of that event and she was actually ready to withdraw, but Niall didn’t want her to (truth be told, she did have a chance of ending the year as number one player). So they were coming back to London for a week of training, which she’ll definitely need after not caring about her food or working out (although that might be debatable, as they did work up quite a sweat most of the times), then playing a tournament in Luxembourg to get back into the swing of things before going to China to prepare and compete in the finals. After that however, they would embark on the second part of their marriage celebrations, travelling to Italy and planning a road trip through Spain, Portugal and maybe some other European cities. Also, Niall was joining her on all of her travels in between, so she’d be working, but they’d still be together.

“Is this work talk I’m hearing during our honeymoon?” he asked tilting his head to look at her through the sunglasses perched on his nose. There was a laughing undertone in his voice, because they jokingly made a bet while on the plane who would be the first to mention work. But they always had this understanding about each other’s job, because it was extraordinary and it wasn’t just work, it was passion and a lifestyle. Even though their jobs were very different, they bonded over that from the start.

Lucy reached out and swatted his arm. She was so sure he’ll be the one losing a bet, seeing how excited he always was to get back to writing after touring, that she forgot to watch herself. And Lucy really didn’t like losing.

“Can’t wait for tonight.” Niall smirked, putting his hands behind his head and stretching his body on the lounger. At least the forfeit wasn’t that bad, but it did make Lucy blush.

“Weren’t we supposed to finally go out for dinner tonight?” she asked. They only left their little bubble once, for a little boat trip.

Niall hummed in thought. “We do have a reservation. Will you be okay with settling the bet tomorrow, then?”

Lucy met his eyes and licked her ice lolly quite suggestively, which made him pull his bottom lip between his teeth, before she spoke. “Yeah, I guess that could be arranged.”

Niall held her gaze for a minute before throwing his head back with a groan. His wife was the devil, he was sure about that. She just laughed and finished eating before getting up. She stopped by his lounger, bending down, giving her husband quite a view of her chest and planting a sweet kiss on his lips, her tongue tasting fruity from her lolly. “I’m gonna shower and start getting ready, have to actually dress up for a change”.

~~~~

“There’s actually something I need your opinion on.” Lucy said when there was a slight lull in their conversation after they started eating. They were sitting on the balcony of the restaurant, the vast ocean spread below them and the setting sun creating a beautiful hue. Niall was chewing on his food, so he gestured for her to go on. “Well, I’ve been considering keeping playing under my maiden name. And I want to know if you’d be okay with that.”

A little frown took over his face, but he spoke as soon as he could, shrugging a little. “Yeah, of course.”

“Really?” she asked surprised, not because he was fine with it, but because it seemed like he just shrugged it off, while she’d been turning it over in her head for weeks. “Just like that?”

Niall put down his cutlery and looked at the woman in front of him with a small smile. “Why, were you scared to talk to me about this?”

Lucy shook her head forcefully. “No, I’m never scared to tell you things. But sometimes I am anxious, because I don’t want to hurt you. And I just remember how big your smile was when I said I wanted to take your name.”

He sighed and reached for her hand that was resting on the table, intertwining their fingers. “You know I love the fact that you wanted to share a name with me, not even hyphenate it. That made me feel really proud and worthy. But it’s your career and you have so many achievements under your name already, so I understand why you’d want to continue building that. And.. well.. I kinda wanted to suggest it, but I also didn’t want you to think I’m against you using my name or something. It’s your decision and you have my full support either way,” he chuckled before adding, “but what else is new?”

She looked at him with gratitude, constantly wondering what exactly had she done to deserve such an amazing, supporting man loving her as much as Niall did. “Thank you, baby.”

“No need to thank me, silly. I was so excited that you wanted to take my name, but I would never force it on you, like, I would understand if you wanted to stay with yours, not just for tennis.” In a way it meant more to him that she was only thinking about it now, having already changed her name to his, just that knowledge that she simply wanted to do it, not even considering what it meant for her career or her future legacy.

“I appreciate that.” Some part of her actually wanted to have his name everywhere, be his wife in all aspects of her identity. However, the more rational part of her knew it was best for her, career wise. She hadn’t figured it all out yet, didn’t know what it meant for her future business moves, after she was done playing. But she knew one thing - that they’d cross that bridge together when the time came. “But I always wanted to have the same one with my husband. I did consider hyphenating it, but it’s just not for me. If we’re gonna do it, let’s do it right, yeah?”

“Go big or go home, love,” said Niall, his glass clinking against hers in toast.

She took a sip before looking at him with a devilish glint in her eyes. “Now, what do you say, should we skip dessert and settle that bet tonight instead?”

The words made him almost choke on his beer. “You’re something else, Lulu Horan.”

November 2023

Coming back to training was never as brutal as this. It wasn’t just Lucy’s lack of her usual regime while in Maui, it was lying on the beach next to her husband one day and sweating her ass off in the gym in London two days later. Coming back to reality was hard and part of her was a bit mad they decided to divide their honeymoon. She didn’t want to get out of their lovely bubble.

Lucy thought that during her training week in the city, Niall would use the opportunity to go to the studio and start writing again, usually after the tour he was itching to make new music. But to her surprise, none of that happened. He met with some mates, came along to a few of her trainings or waited at home with dinner ready. If he was going out, it seemed like he made sure to be back by the time she got home. It was nice; Lucy wasn’t going to complain about that, but it did make her worry a bit, because it was out of character.

She wasn’t about to blow it out of proportion, but she did ask him about it.

“Aren’t you excited to get back to the studio? I thought you’d jump at the opportunity this week,” she mentioned one night, when they were in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner.

“Um.. not really, no.” Niall shook his head while rinsing out dishes and handing them to Lucy to load them into the dishwasher.

“Is there a reason why?” she asked, looking at him with furrowed brows and pausing her actions for a second to gauge his reaction.

“Well, I mean…” He didn’t seem bothered by the questions, just a little confused, like he was trying to make sense of his own thoughts before sharing them. “I have ideas, but I’m not sure if I want to jump back in. I’m quite enjoying my honeymoon off time right now.”

He shrugged his shoulders and finally lifted his head to her face. She was looking at him, trying to get a read on his feelings, like she was searching for a sign that everything really was okay.

“Is that alright with you?” Niall asked with the slightest hesitation.

“Of course,” she said, giving him an encouraging smile. “Whatever makes you happy, baby.”

And that was the end of it. Niall flew to Luxembourg with her, coming along to most of her training on court and sometimes working on his own body alongside her in the gym, watching tv or reading books in the hotel rooms and cheering her on during her matches. They also came to China together and Lucy was more than happy to have her husband there, it was a really nice tournament, a special event, but it was also stressful, especially with the pressure to perform as well as possible and fight for the year-end number one spot. There were no easy matches and Niall’s presence and humour were perfect relaxers.

“Are we going out for dinner tonight?” asked Niall when she joined him in their hotel room after taking a cooling bath to recover her tired muscles. Lucy won her second game of the tournament, pretty much bagging herself a spot in the semi-finals, so a little celebratory dinner was more than deserved. (Even though they’d been going out to dinner every night since they got to Shenzhen).

“Yeah, I think so. Jordan was talking about this restaurant that’s supposed to be a mind blowing experience.” Lucy said, referencing her fitness trainer. She was busy unpacking her bag from the match, which made her miss Niall’s expression falling, his brows drawing together in a frown.

“Oh. I didn’t realise they were all going with us. Again.” Niall’s unamused tone made her look up instantly.

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused. Niall was the most friendly person she knew, he never had a problem with being around people, and he got along pretty well with her team. It wasn’t unusual, when playing tournaments, especially the big ones; they had been going out to dinner together as a little break from work, Niall had never complained about it during his visits, always more than happy to tag along, even joking that it made him feel like part of the winning team.

“Well, it is our honeymoon still, kinda.” His eyes were challenging, not leaving hers for even a second, but his next words were gentler, indicating he wasn’t looking for a fight, just wanted her to see his point. “We’ve been surrounded by your coach, trainer, physio, psychologist and manager for the past two weeks. I know you’re basically working right now and it’s your team, I do like them as well, but I’d like to have dinner with just my wife sometimes. Is it that wrong?”

She shook her head, her heart melting right away, seeing his reasons and thinking about any possible signs she might have missed, making a mental note to consider it in the future. “I’m sorry, you know I suck at saying no to people. Especially the ones I like.”

“And it’s your routine, it’s what you do, I know, but I’d like to still celebrate us a bit, you know?” His voice was still a little desperate, but he didn’t seem as frustrated anymore.

“I’d like that too. Thank you for bringing that to my attention, baby. I’m gonna text everyone, let them know we’re doing our own thing tonight.”

She went to grab her charging phone right away. As she was about to walk back to her bag after sending a message, Niall grabbed her by the hand and pulled her to stand between his legs, while he sat on the bed, his hands resting at the bottom of her waist.

He looked up at her and when she leaned down for a kiss, he went for her neck instead, then whispering in her ear, “You’re gonna let me blow your mind tonight, then? Don’t need any fancy restaurant to do that, hm?”

~~~~

Italy was the perfect place to drown your sorrows. That’s what Niall said when they were leaving China, even after Lucy assured him there weren’t really any sorrows to be buried. Sure, she didn’t finish the year at the top of the ranking, losing in the semi finals, but she did hold the number two spot and that was more than enough. Plus she was more than happy to be going back on their honeymoon and enjoying the world with no plan or pressure, just the two of them, before starting her pre-season training in a few weeks.

They flew down to Rome. Both of them had been in the city numerous times before, Niall for tours and Lucy for a tournament, but now they finally had the time to actually explore, see all the main attractions, as well as some more hidden gems. Then they took the train to Florence, which was the city Lucy was most excited about, having seen all the beautiful pictures and talking to some friends who had visited in the past.

Even though they both had seen a lot of places because of their respective jobs, there was something entirely special in travelling like that, together, with no other intent but exploring and enjoying the time and place. Both of them sometimes found it hard to disconnect, let go of stress and worry, not think about what needs to be done soon, what work awaits them. But walking around Florence, basking in the sun which was a nice surprise as it was the beginning of November, holding hands and admiring the beautiful city, they were both simply calm and happy, not a worry in sight.

“Shit, Niall, I’m dripping.” Lucy interrupted the calm with an exclamation, stopping in her tracks.

“Jesus, Lulu, we just left the church not even ten minutes ago, hold your horses, woman.” Niall had the smuggiest grin on his face and didn’t even move to hand her a tissue, her melted ice cream dripping down her hand.

She looked at him very bemused while he gave her an almost childlike grin, before finally digging through his backpack to help her.

“You are so not funny,” Lucy said, taking a tissue from him, a grumpy expression on her face.

“Sorry, I’m pretty sure there is a ‘no returns’ policy on husbands, so you’re stuck with me forever now.” He laughed putting his arm around her waist and squeezing her tightly against his side, before planting a kiss on her cheek.

Lucy kept a snarl on her face for a few seconds more, before letting a smile overcome her features and searching for his lips, letting him know she actually appreciated his ability to joke at everything, his easygoing attitude, which was truly irritating at times when they started dating, but she grew to not only love it, but admire it a bit.

In Milan they decided to rent a car and travel through France to Spain and then Portugal, where they would end their trip. The road tripping took Lucy back in time in a way, because she remembered many travels with her parents to different tennis tournaments, when she was a kid. However, travelling with Niall was immensely better. She barely ever drove, so he did most of it, only switching for an hour or so, when he was really tired, even though they didn’t pull super long distances, making pit stops in smaller places for a night or two. She really enjoyed watching Niall drive though, there was something so sexy about his confidence, one hand on the wheel, while the other usually rested on her thigh or was intertwined with hers, his head bobbing along to the music and singing to most songs, a carefree smile constant on his lips. There was no better word to describe her feelings than content. Just fully content.

“We should travel like this more often,” she said, when he looked at her with an arched brow, after she had been quiet for a while.

His face lit up and he raised their joined hands to press a soft kiss to hers.

“You enjoying yourself, then?”

She hummed happily. “Mmm, very much. First class flights and fancy hotels are always nice, but this is just special, I don’t know, like we’re actually seeing the world together. Maybe it’s because we fly around so much, I’m quite used to it. While I haven’t been on a road trip since I was around fifteen, probably.”

“Yeah, it’s nicely different. And it feels more chilled, I think. Like, if we want to stop, we stop. If we want to see something, we go there. There’s no rush. I’m really liking it too.” He agreed, taking his eyes off the road for a second to offer her a big smile.

“Let’s do this at least once a year,” she proposed. “Maybe not for two weeks, or whatever, it can be a smaller trip, but I’d quite like to make it our thing.”

“Deal,” he said, letting go of her hand just to wrap his pinky around hers. “Although I reckon you’re gonna regret those words once we have kids.”

Somewhere along their relationship, having kids stopped being an ‘if’ and became a ‘when’. They didn’t even talk about it, not really, but it was a natural progression none of them minded. Whenever Lucy heard it, it made her smile at her partner. It was almost like they subconsciously knew they both wanted it, their souls reading each other and wanting the same thing.

After travelling through France and most of Spain, they decided to rent a small house near the coast and rest for a few days. They were enjoying a glass of wine (well, beer for Niall) after dinner on the patio while playing cards. Both of them were snuggled in cozy sweaters (Lucy was wearing her favourite of Niall’s), but the air was so nice, although chilly, they didn’t want to go inside.

“Why don’t we have, like, a holiday house somewhere?” Niall asked after losing yet another game. Lucy was always better at games that required any type of strategic thinking, yet he was still grumpy after losing too many times.

She shrugged while picking up the cards to shuffle them for another round. “I actually don’t know. Properties are usually a good investment. We should look around.” She shrugged while picking up the cards to shuffle them for another round.

“We could spend a month in Spain or wherever,” he suggested looking around, as if trying to picture their future there.

“That sounds nice. But between that and our yearly road trips, I doubt we’d actually have enough time to enjoy it all.”

“Mmm, that’s true,” he hummed, thinking about it all. “But I’d really like a house in Ireland.”

“Why am I not surprised?” She let out a small laugh. Niall was nothing if not patriotic, always speaking about his country with a special spark in his eyes.

“Would you not?” He sounded almost offended, like it was an attack on his person. “I need to show you more of the country, actually. We should take some road trips there.”

“Well, it depends,” she said picking up her wine glass and taking a sip. “I think it’d be nice as a cottage, a get away house, but I don’t think I’d want to live there, not yet at least, maybe once we’re old or something.”

He was silent for a minute, sorting through his own thoughts and feelings. “Well, I always thought I’d move back one day. But you’re right, it wouldn’t be practical to live there now, not with our jobs and plans. You’re not crossing it out though, right? We’ll think about it in a few years?”

“Would you ask for a divorce if I said no?” she teased.

“Oh yeah, it’s a deal breaker for me.” Niall joined with the same joking manner, although his tone and face was serious. “We should have talked about it before, huh?”

“As long as we’d both be able to do the job we’d want to do while living there, I’m pretty open to it,” she said seriously. They’d both learned a long time ago that home was wherever they were together, the actual place didn’t matter that much.

He smiled brightly, leaning over the table between them to give her a happy kiss. “What about now, though? Would it be okay if we looked around? Got a little cottage in the middle of nowhere or something?”

She held to his neck to give him one more kiss before letting go and settling back in her seat. They only had this much space between them, so Niall would look into her cards, but maybe it was time to end the game. “Yeah, of course. That’d be nice, actually, our little escape.”

With both of their lifestyles being so hectic, they probably wouldn’t have too much time to actually spend there, but Ireland was close enough for a quick weekend getaway trip. She liked that perspective. Or both of them flying down from wherever they were and meeting there for a couple of days together, away from the noisy world. Just them and their little bubble. It sounded like heaven. This whole honeymoon made both of them wonder how were they supposed to go back on their separate travels soon, after spending so much time by each other’s side.

They had those bittersweet moments, when they were still together, but already missing the other person, even before they were gone. They’d catch the other looking a bit distant, a sad glint in their eyes and just know, making sure to squeeze the other person’s hand or give a specially tight hug or a reassuring kiss.

Even though none of them said anything, they both wondered how long will their life look like that, constantly apart, missing each other and living from one visit to the other. But in the end, there was never any doubt in their minds whether it was worth it. And that’s all that truly mattered.

#1dff #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan oneshot #niall horan fan fiction #one direction fanfiction #one direction fan fiction #dtl #down the line

31 notes · View notes

sixqueendom · 4 years

Text

New Fanfic: If Only You Would Listen, Chapter 1

So, after having a few requests to, I’ve decided to post my new fic on here as well as AO3. If you would prefer to read on AO3, I have included the link below! No real warnings for this one. Just the usual angst I'm sure you've grown accustomed to with my fics if you’ve read any of my previous work!

A huge thank you to Phoebe (@theatergirl06), Lilac (@timetoriseabove) and Blue (@pen-and-a-microphone) for beta-reading this fic! You guys are the best!

AO3 Link

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

Kitty decided she had had enough. Everything was becoming overwhelming. The home she shared with the five other Queens suddenly felt overbearing and overly dominated by the others, so much so that she felt like she didn’t belong there anymore. Like she was an outcast. Sidelined. She didn’t feel like a priority to any of them, more a burden. An afterthought.

The truth was, Kitty was fed up with being mollycoddled by Jane. She was fed up of being treated like she was a child. But most of all, she was fed up of walking into a room, only for the lively chatter to descend into quietness, the other women refraining from talking openly for fear the topic might upset or offend her. They’d never told her that, but she knew. She was, after all, the vulnerable one in their eyes. The liability.

She appreciated Jane’s love and care towards her, she really did. It was nice to finally feel like someone genuinely cared about her, after a childhood with inattentive parents and ultimately being raised by her father’s negligent stepmother, the Dowager Duchess. For once, she felt wanted and loved. But as much as she appreciated it, Jane’s motherly care was smothering. Suffocating. Jane had always had a desperate longing to be a mother, having been robbed of the chance with her own son. So, naturally, with Kitty being the youngest, she projected all that energy onto her. But for Kitty, it was all too much. She didn’t feel she had any real independence.

Eventually, she started to realise she was being excluded from conversations.

She’d accepted it at first. Perhaps she didn’t want to hear it. The conversations would just stir up old memories and rip off the superficial plaster she’d put on those wounds. That was, until she realised she was slowly losing her voice within the group, her right to speak for herself. Instead, the Queens were doing it on her behalf, assuming they knew what was best. Assuming they knew what she would say.

Last week, the Queens had all been invited to a podcast interview with an up and coming theatre critic, who had recently seen the show. The critic had analysed and dissected each of their individual songs and probed them for more details. When it came to Kitty’s song, she immediately saw the concerned faces of the others, like they anticipated a breakdown. Much to her annoyance, Anne butted in halfway through her response to a question. After that, Kitty noticed the subtle actions of the others: the critic saw it as casual banter, but it was really just a cover-up for the tougher questions regarding her past, an effort to keep things light-hearted in an attempt to stop it being so upsetting. What they didn’t realise was that Kitty had recounted her previous life so many times that, although still arguably painful to recall, it didn’t provoke the heightened emotions the Queens were probably expecting. She was tougher than that. Yet, by the end of the interview, Kitty felt like she hadn’t really contributed anything.

A couple of nights later, there was a small incident at stage door when Kitty was approached by two young girls. As she happily signed their programmes, one of the girls piped up excitedly.

“I can’t wait to hear your next interview on Saturday! I’m going to send a question in for you to answer!”

Kitty frowned, but quickly concealed her confusion with a laugh. “Yeah, you should totally do that! I’ll try my best to answer as many as i can!”

On the Tube home, Kitty queried the conversation. “What’s this about an interview this weekend?”

Anne gasped. “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you! We’ve got an interview with a theatre magazine on Saturday. They are also hosting a little Q&A session with the fans. Should be fun.”

Kitty leant back in her seat, going quiet. When were they actually going to tell her if she hadn’t prompted?

The next evening, when Kitty came downstairs to find the Queens huddled around the kitchen, seemingly in a deep conversation without her, it was the final straw. Right on cue, as soon as she walked in, the mood immediately changed and, like a flick of a switch, a hush fell over the room as the discussion dropped away. It always felt like she was disrupting them. Like she was gatecrashing a party. Uninvited and unwanted.

Kitty glanced from one Queen to another.

“What are you all talking about?” It was an innocuous enough question. She kept her voice light, casual. There was no need at this point to get tense and uptight.

Anna, in one corner, gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Nothing important. Just about that silly interview we have tomorrow.”

The interview with the magazine. The interview that she was also involved in.

Kitty blinked. “What about it?”

She caught Cathy giving a nervous glance across the room to Anna, her hands firmly cupped around her coffee mug as she leant against the kitchen counter. Kitty could sense the atmosphere in the room growing tense. After all, they weren’t stupid. They could tell where this was heading.

Anne gave a shrug. “Just about what kind of questions we think they’ll ask. Just...boring stuff really.”

Here we go. Trying to assure her she wasn’t missing out on anything. That it wasn’t important enough for her voice to be included.

“It didn’t sound boring,” Kitty leant against the doorframe. “Sounds like a good idea, actually. Always best to be prepared for whatever they throw our way.” She was still maintaining her casual tone, but she could feel her patience being tested.

Jane, as always, was the first to get flustered, sensing that things were starting to head south and wanting to avoid confrontation. “Look,” she held up her hands. “Why don’t we just talk about this later when-”

“When what?” Kitty snapped. “When I’m back upstairs in my bedroom? When I’m out of earshot and can’t hear what you’re really talking about?”

Jane blinked. She didn’t know how to respond. Catherine bowed her head, staring at the lines of her hands. Across the table, Anne visibly squirmed in discomfort.

Kitty smirked. She’d caught them red-handed and now they didn’t know what to say. There was nowhere to hide. She raised an eyebrow expectantly, looking around the room for a response.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Have I made things a bit uncomfortable?”

This tense confrontation had come as a surprise for them. Out of them all, Kitty was largely overlooked, usually the quietest and the most reserved of the group. Sweet in nature and often quick to comply, she was the last one they’d expect to be interrogated by. But it was becoming clear that she was on the offence. Quite frankly, Kitty had reached the end of her tether. She wouldn’t tolerate being made to feel like a child, like an inconvenience, any longer. Whether it was the Queens’ intention or not, it still hurt. She still felt like she didn’t matter, that her words were worthless.

Finally, Cathy took a deep breath. “What is this all about, Kit?” Her words sounded so feeble. She wasn’t stupid - she knew exactly what was going on here - but she felt the need to break the awkward silence.

Her attempt only made Kitty scoff. “You all know exactly what this is about. I’m sick of this!” She yelled, her voice increasing in volume.

Jane bit her lip, the harsh tone of Kitty’s voice packing a sting that she really wasn’t accustomed to. Not from her sweet Kitty. She was trying to hold back tears, startled by this sudden outburst and hostility. Realising her discomfort, Catherine squeezed her hand under the table.

“Do I really not matter?” Kitty lowered her voice again, trying to keep composed. “Because sometimes I wonder if you’d all be better off without me!”

Anne looked up at that comment, hurt and panic in her eyes. “That’s not true! Of course you matter! Of course we want you here!”

“Then why don’t you ever include me?!” she cried, unable to conceal her trembling voice, despite her resolve not to cry. Crying would prove to them that she was volatile. It would justify their actions. “Why am I always the one treated like a child and left out of everything?”

“Kit, we’re not doing this to hurt you. We’re doing this to protect you and to stop you getting upset-” Anna started.

“See, that’s just it, isn’t it? You all treat me like I’m some kind of porcelain doll that might fall and break. Don’t think I don’t notice you acting like you’re walking on eggshells when I’m around and pandering to my wishes like I’m a kid! I hate it!” Her frustration mounting, Kitty slammed her hand against the doorframe, making Jane visibly jump.

Catherine, remaining as composed as ever, thought quickly, trying to desperately diffuse the situation before it got the chance to escalate any further. “Kitty, why don’t you sit down and we can talk about this rationally?”

The suggestion only made Kitty laugh. “Oh, so now you want me to sit down and talk?”

She shook her head. “I’m sick and tired of being made to feel insignificant. Like I don’t matter. Because isn’t that what you say in the show? I think she’s the least relevant Katherine.” She changed her tone, trying to mimic the other Queens. ‘Oh, we can’t talk about that in front of Katherine, it’ll only make her upset’ Well, guess what? I want you to stop invalidating my opinions and my words, just because the topic of discussion might hurt me!”

“Kit, you know we don’t really mean that when we say that line in the show!” Cathy insisted.

“Well, it certainly feels like it!”

“We didn’t realise you felt like this…” Anna mumbled.

“Because you never thought to ask!” erupted Kitty, exasperated. “You were all so busy trying to keep me sheltered away that you never once thought to ask! You don’t want my opinion on anything! Precious little Katherine can’t think for herself and make her own choices and decisions! Why don’t you let me make up my own mind on whether a topic is too sensitive or not? I can always walk away, can’t I?”

“Like that other night at stage door. I was made to look so stupid because I was oblivious! I can’t believe a fan knew before I did! So, when were you all going to decide to tell me about the interview, hm? If it wasn’t for that girl mentioning it, I’d probably still be in the dark!”

“That was my fault!” Anne admitted, putting her hands up in surrender. “I genuinely forgot to tell you! Anna even mentioned it in the morning and I still forgot. I’m sorry.”

This admission from Anne seemed to soften Kitty slightly, her shoulders relaxing. It put the tiniest doubt in her head: maybe she was overthinking this all? Seeing Kitty relax a little and contemplate what Anne had said, Jane took the opportunity to try and reason with her and further dampen her anger. “Look, maybe you’re right. We’ve been unfair not including you. But none of us have done this to intentionally hurt you, love. You must know that. Neither do any of us see you less of an adult-”

“But Jane, you make me feel like a kid all the time! The constant prompting of what time I’ll be home when I go out, the constant fussing, it’s just too much! I’m constantly made to feel like I am incapable of doing anything for myself. I’m just as capable of being independent as Anne is, and you certainly don’t hover over her shoulder all the time!”

“I just like to make sure you’re okay…” Jane’s voice had gone quiet, almost a whisper.

“Well, you know what, Jane? It’s suffocating! You need to face up to the fact that trying to mother me isn’t going to bring back Edward!”

The words cut through Jane like a knife right to the heart. The others watched as the woman crumpled in front of them, before fleeing upstairs to the confines of her bedroom. Catherine pushed her chair back and marched up to Kitty like a protective lioness, pinning her against the fridge.

“That is quite enough! Jane has done nothing but show you love and care, which is much more than any of your true family did for you. And this is how you repay her? You don’t deserve it. If you want to stop being treated like a child, you need to buck up your ideas and try and show some respect and gratitude. You should be ashamed of yourself, Katherine.” At that, she stormed off to console her friend.

Although Kitty had to admit that she’d regretted the words as soon as they’d come out of her mouth, she was determined to stand her ground. If she crumbled now, this whole confrontation was pointless. She looked to the three remaining Queens.

After a long pause, Anna approached her, her jaw clenched, stone-faced. “You know, maybe you’re right, Kitty. Maybe we would be better off without you.” She grabbed her jacket from the back of a kitchen chair and stormed out of the house, slamming the front door behind her. Anne and Cathy flinched.

Having long abandoned her mug of coffee, Cathy folded her arms. “If you wanted to be treated more like an adult, perhaps you should have thought about approaching this like one. We could have had a civilised talk, instead of this mess.” With a disappointed shake of her head, she too strode out. As she passed the table to leave, she cast an apologetic look to Anne.

Now, it was just the two of them. The two cousins. Sitting there at the table, Anne was bewildered. She hadn’t expected such an outburst, especially not from Kitty. She’d never thought her capable of causing so much upset, to get so angry. She suddenly felt like she’d lost a good friend. As quiet once again fell over the room, Anne wondered if she’d ever really known Kitty at all.

She was also consumed with guilt. They were so close, and yet, she hadn’t realised that what they’d been doing had proved so hurtful to her own cousin. What’s more, Kitty had never confided in her. There had never been any hint that she was feeling this way.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Anne mumbled, finally lifting her head to look at her cousin in disbelief. “Why didn’t you tell me you felt like this?”

Kitty turned her face away. She was just so disappointed in them all. She felt utterly let down by the very people she trusted the most.

“Anna didn’t mean what she said…” Anne made a pitiful attempt to show Kitty she was on her side. “She just upset-”

Tears pricking at her eyes, Kitty clenched her fists. But all the fight had gone out of her.

“Well, now you all know how I feel.”

Kitty whirled around and sought the refuge of her bedroom, throwing herself onto her bed as the sobs overcame her. Suddenly, all the fire in her belly was extinguished, replaced by a hollow emptiness. Now she realised the enormity of what she’d done, the potential consequences of her actions. Things had spiraled out of control, her words had become ammunition created by her pent-up frustration. She had just been so desperate for change. How long was she expected to tolerate it all? She feared if she’d waited much longer, her voice would be silenced altogether. She might as well just walk out the door. Now, consumed with the horrible dark thoughts that shrouded her as she cried into her pillow, she started to take the thought seriously. She didn’t fit here and the Queens now despised her. Seeing the disgust in Aragon’s face and Anna’s clear contempt said it all. Maybe she needed to prove it to herself, not them. To prove that she was capable of looking after herself, like she insisted? Being independent.

She lifted herself from the bed, grabbed her rucksack from the wardrobe and blindly stuffed some clothes in, her vision still blurry with tears. She checked the contents of her purse: her bank card and £60 - it would be enough for now. As she fumbled for some essential items she thought she’d need, her hand fell on a polaroid photo - a black and white picture, taken of them all on stage after their first performance together. They all looked so happy, so united. Now, she’d ruined all of that. Yet, something made her take it with her, slipping it into the zip pocket of her bag. Just because they hated her, it didn’t mean she wouldn’t miss them. Lastly, she picked up her phone, staring at the lockscreen photo of her and Anne for a second before putting it back onto her bedside table. She didn’t really have a use for it now.

You know, maybe you’re right, Kitty. Maybe we would be better off without you.

After all, she was of course, the least relevant Katherine. They wouldn’t want to talk to her now.

At that, she tiptoed downstairs. She was relieved to see the kitchen was empty. Helping herself to a few biscuits, pieces of fruit, and granola bars, she took one last look as she slipped out of the back door.

And, just like that, Kitty disappeared into the night.

#six fanfiction

36 notes · View notes

sincerelyreidburke · 4 years

Note

i know this is quinnamon roll's theatre time here rn, but how does he get on with the other cricket children rhododendron and rat boy? was Nando nervous to introduce them? what do rhododendron and ratatouille think of quinnjamin?? (idk why i cant just use their names tbh sorry)

My friend, forgive me! This response to your ask has been slightly delayed. But now is a good time to reiterate that, as a PSA, if you send me an ask, I will answer it— even if that doesn’t happen right away. The way I sort through my inbox isn’t exactly arbitrary, because I do try to go from oldest to newest, but sometimes I’ll get several asks about the same concept or character, and I’ll decide I want to space them out a little.

Anyway. That was just an aside. This ask covers a generally broad cricket topic, so let’s start out the week on a wholesome note.

(This came in during a Quinn Theatre Hours session, which is context for the qualifying sentence. And feel free to ask me anything about the crickets!)

First of all, I seriously appreciate your inability to use their actual names. It’s a big mood. I’m sort of getting ahead of myself on the answer to your question here, but Rhodey does exactly what you did in your ask with Quinn all the time. As in, he can’t call him Quinn. He’s Q, or Quinnothy, or Quinnjamin, or His Royal Highness Sir Quinnington III, et cetera. Mostly, he’s just Q. But Rhodey is a goofball, and he gives him random not-names constantly.

Anyway, let’s backtrack a little, because there’s a thorough answer in store for your question.

Before he and Quinn actually become official, Nando has talked about Quinn to Rhodey and Touille. This starts early, probably on the night they meet at that Halloween party. He probably doesn’t say much right away, just that he was talking to a guy and he had a good night.

Touille doesn’t really latch onto this, because he’s not attentive when it comes to relationships. Rhodey, wingman of the century, absolutely does. Dude, when are you seeing that guy again? Did you find him on Instagram? You should ask Ford about him. What, are you gonna let a prime opportunity slip through your hands like this!???! N A N N Y. Bro. You gotta try to see him again. You guys talked for like three entire hours.

The reason Rhodey is adamant about this is: although I would absolutely not say that Nando let his failing relationship with N*te ruin his first two or so months at Samwell, he definitely let it affect him emotionally at least a little. I mean, how could he not? He was genuinely invested in making that work as an LDR, and N*te so obviously was not, so Nando was the one trying to keep the entire operation from collapsing. I don’t know why I’m making a relationship sound like a government strategy, but anyway. The point is. The only impression Rhodey has of Nando’s love live up to the point he meets Quinn is that Nando got treated like shit (and then cheated on) by his ex.

Rhodey, as his best friend, obviously thinks this sucks majorly and wants the best for Nando. So when a boy walks into Nando’s life whom Nando is obviously sweet on, Rhodey thinks he should seize the opportunity.

Anyway, that’s why Rhodey knows right away that he wants to set Quinn up with Nando for Winter Screw. And when Screw goes well, he considers it a huge win for his judgement and his best friend’s well-being.

So Nando and Quinn court. It’s soft. It’s schmoopy. They take, like, two weeks to actually become official because they’re both so useless and gay that each of them is waiting for the other to drop the will you be my boyfriend question. Finally, Quinn gets tired of ambiguity, and he just asks. Then they’re dating. And all is well.

The first time Quinn meets Rhodey and Touille is before they’re dating, but not long before that at all. Nando has talked about his friends, and he and Quinn are starting to make a habit of meeting up for some meals, so one day for lunch, he texts Quinn to come and meet him with his other freshman hockey friends.

Quinn is nervous, but Nando is more nervous. The reason Quinn is nervous is that he’s still sort of wary of jocks. Let it be known that Quinn has no deep-seeded jock trauma; he’s just a theatre kid, and the Samwell drama club in particular has reservations about the school’s athletes. Quinn is an incredibly confident person, and he’s not ashamed of himself or the things he loves to do or the way he is in the slightest. But he likes Sebastián, a whole lot, and he wants to be his boyfriend, and he knows how important his team friends are to him— so Quinn desperately wants his friends to like him. The thought of them disliking him or judging him makes him a little nervous.

(Quinn is literally that John Mulaney bit where he’s like “I need everyone to like me so much, all of the time!!!!!!!”)

Nando is more nervous, though, like I said. And the reasons are relatively similar. He wants Rhodey and Touille to get along with Quinn. Like Quinn, he is experiencing feelings of wanting to be his boyfriend. His best friends from back home did not get along with N*te, and it was a recipe for discomfort. Rhodey and Touille not liking Quinn wouldn’t be a dealbreaker for him, but it would leave him in an awkward situation, and he knows that.

He just feels so soft on him, and he wants his friends to understand how much he likes him, and how great he is.

Okay, so finally! We’ve reached the point of the post. Quinn comes to lunch. He introduces himself to them in his funny little formal way and sits down, and for the briefest, most terrifying second, Quinn realizes he brought nothing prepared for them to talk about.

And then Rhodey, because he is Rhodey, breaks the ice, and everything is uphill from there.

Rhodey gets along with people easily, and so does Nando. Touille may be a little more introverted, but he feeds off of their energy, and it makes their trio socially effective. So the conversation over lunch is animated and enjoyable, because the three crickets already work so well on their own, and they welcome Quinn right into the fold perfectly.

Once Rhodey and Touille learn they’re actually, officially dating, they’re well pleased. Because they like Quinn.

Now. In general? I want to talk a little about Rhodey and Quinn’s dynamic, because it’s priceless. They get along very well, to the point where Rhodey has a genuine friendship with Quinn that exists outside of Nando. Oh, sure, it’s based in the fact that Nando is dating Quinn, but the two of them just get along. They team up to organize for Nando’s birthday, bond over queer culture stuff (Rhodey and Quinn force Nando to watch Drag Race and it’s the best), share music recommendations, and just generally vibe. When Rhodey starts his secret undercover drag queen thing, Quinn is his costumer and also his makeup artist. Because apparently that’s a thing.

Alsooooooo Rhodey has emotional venting hours to Quinn when he’s being Angsty about a certain dumb Canadian rat boy.

Also, Rhodey is the king of chirping. He does a hilarious Quinn impression over team breakfast when Nando is being roasted for being a simp, and he does the refusal to call him by his actual name thing that we discussed above.

The four of them hang out all the time. I’ve mentioned briefly that Quinn is to the crickets as Farmer is to the frogs, and that’s absolutely true. The three crickets hang out on their own plenty, of course, but when Quinn tags along, there’s nothing awkward about it. Like, Rhodey and Touille aren’t the kind of friends who are like ugh, he always brings the person he’s dating around. Because the person Nando is dating is also their friend.

They do go clubbing together. I’m not even sorry about it. They’ll all cram themselves into Quinn’s tiny room and pregame while they get ready. “Why don’t they use Rhodey and Nando’s room, Mel?” Because the clubbing doesn’t start until their sophomore year, when Rhodey and Nando both live in the Haus in separate rooms, and they’re avoiding Captain Whiskey trying to be discreet.

The point is: Rhodey and Touille love Quinn, and he loves them right back. There’s no room for friends-clashing-with-boyfriend angst in Nando’s story.

Also, this is very much a found-family thing for Quinn, because his sister is the only actual family he has, and she’s far away. In Nando, and by extension in his friends, Quinn finds a home.

Thank you for the ask! :D

#oc taddies #crickets #quindo

33 notes · View notes

littleladymab · 4 years

Text

tiny cracks of light - chapter twelve

(master post)

Prelude- The arrow sits on the table between them like a reminder.

Melanie inhales, and Jon pretends not to notice the way she trembles all over. "Are you certain?"

"As I can be," he says softly.

"And if you're not?"

The Eye provides several answers with ease, but common sense stills his tongue.

He tries for a joke instead. "Well, then you won't be able to find me easily enough to get your revenge." It falls flat on his ears, but Melanie snorts anyway.

"You're not a funny person, Jon," she says, unnecessarily.

"Yes, I'm aware."

She starts to reach for the shaft, but hesitates, and withdraws back to her chair. "I'll be completely free of the Archives."

"Yes."

"And it won't be like Tim? I won't be tied to this place, compelled to come back?"

He shakes his head. "You'll never have to come back."

This time, Melanie finally does reach for the arrow. It's one of the ones she made herself. Jon recognizes the fletching, remembers the way she had the feathers from it stuck in her hair and instead of telling her, everyone spent the day trying not to laugh.

She turns it around in her fingers, the motions deft and practiced. "What about that other woman? What was her name… Sasha?"

Jon's hands clench into fists in his lap and his breath catches in his throat, but Melanie doesn't seem to notice. "What about her?"

"It's been three years and she hasn't been back." Melanie's eyes dance up to his, sharp and cruel with the remains of what used to mark her. "Unless she's actually dead and that's why you bound Tim, so he wouldn't find out."

He feels sick at the implication, because even when it was the Stranger wearing her skin, he couldn't bring himself to hurt her. "No, she's… Last I was able to tell, she's still alive. But she's…" He sighs and looks down at the papers on his table, the ink swirling together as his eyes refuse to focus. The thought of Sasha makes him want to check on her, to ensure that she's still okay after all of this, but he won't let it.

The urge isn't his. It's the Eye, confirming its investment is secure.

"She's what?"

"She's not free of this place," he answers, unable to return Melanie's gaze. "She never will be free of this place."

"But I will be?"

"You will be."

"To the best of your knowledge."

He nods, once. "To the best of my extensive and supernatural knowledge."

Melanie snorts again. Then she rises to her feet and gives the arrow another expert spin between her fingers. "Well, nothing for it, then."

Jon tastes bile and iron in his mouth, but he refuses to speak. He lets her leave before giving one shuddering breath and covering his face with his hands.

Sasha spends the afternoon staring at the marks that are scrawled over the pieces of her.

Jon carried similar ones, he must have. Because the Eye encourages her, to the point where there was a degree of disappointment when Basira left their conversation without offering. The charcoal was a clever trick — a temporary mark, one that could be wiped away without lingering.

She traces the shape of the closed eye on her forehead, but it doesn't feel any different. The thing inside of her laughs at her attempt, and the Eye watches. Unconcerned.

Perhaps, if she pushes back on the marks, she will find Jon at their source.

You remember what happened last time you followed where a tether went? the thing teases, and she can feel the water in her lungs and Daisy's hand at her throat. You send yourself to look for him, there won't be a you to come back to.

"Thank you for the warning. How unusually thoughtful of you," she mumbles and closes her eyes with a sigh.

"Oh, great, so you like to talk to yourself."

Sasha whirls around to find Melanie leaning casually against one of the shelves. "How long have you been there?"

"Long enough. You weren't doing much." She strides forward with confidence and stops just shy of her hip colliding with the corner of the table. "I've come to warn you."

Sasha frowns. "I think I'm aware of all the troubles I will be facing—"

"No, this isn't to protect you." Melanie slaps her hand down on the table, and something clacks beneath her palm. When she draws her hand back, there is a stone arrowhead tied to a leather cord resting there. "I'm warning you: Don't get Georgie involved in this."

She looks from the arrowhead to Melanie in confusion. "Excuse me?"

Melanie leans in over Sasha's shoulder. "Georgie has never been bound to the Eye, and I will not stand to have that happen to her."

"You think her helping me save Jon will bind her to the Eye?"

"She doesn't belong here. She's given too much of herself to that man — we all have. He's done shit all to deserve it."

Sasha's mouth hangs open in shock for a second longer before she laughs. "I'm sorry, but I do not want to get involved in your relationship drama."

"It's not—" Melanie sputters, drawing away. Her features twist in anger and she looks ready to strike. "It's more than how I don't want my partner getting involved with her ex. I thought you of all people would understand."

"Understand what? What do you think you know about me?" Sasha pushes herself to her feet, forcing Melanie to retreat a step. "Tell me, from one victim to another, just what do you think you know about what I have had to give up because of this place?"

"Don't you dare!" Melanie regains her ground and shoves Sasha. "I blinded myself to be free of this place, and I still get dragged back in to deal with his shit!"

Sasha's stomach drops, and she goes cold. "What…?" The question escapes her on a huff of breath, and she looks from Melanie's scarred face to the arrowhead on the table.

And then she remembers the piece of paper between Basira's fingers as she destroyed each eye.

And she begins to understand.

"You didn't have a choice," Melanie says, unable to notice the expression on Sasha's face. "You've always been bound to this place, your leash was just longer than others. But I do. I can leave, and Georgie will follow me if I asked her to." Her next breath catches, and her face twists in an attempt to contain the emotions. "The moment that I think her safety is in jeopardy, we're leaving. Do you understand?"

"You used that arrow," Sasha says, reaching for the item on the table. "You severed your connection to the Eye, and that's why I can't feel it."

Melanie's lip curls, but it doesn't turn into a full-on snarl. "And I'll do the same damned thing to you."

Fear clings to her, makes it hard to breathe, feeling like she's being held just beneath the surface of the water. It's not just her own fear — she can feel the Eye sinking its hooks deeper into her, as if that would make a difference. "You can't—"

"Why, because you said so? Because then you won't be able to save the Archivist?" She scoffs. "Ask me first if I care."

"The Eye is the only thing keeping me me—"

Melanie shrugs and says, "Then Daisy will deal with you, like she promised."

The words hit Sasha like a physical blow, and she clings to the edge of the table to keep herself upright. The pieces of her shiver, threatening to break apart, and she struggles to breathe. Her focus narrows down to the arrowhead.

Sasha drops back down into her chair, stunned.

But she's back on her feet an instant later as the first breath of bone-chilling fog wafts through the Archives.

Melanie's head swivels, and there is a brief flicker of something unreadable over her face. "That's not Martin, is it?"

"No," she says, storing away the fact that Melanie is able to pinpoint the source of the mist so easily despite her severed connection. That will be something to explore later. "Can you get the others together for me? We need to leave—"

"What—"

Sasha sets the arrowhead into Melanie's hand and closes her fingers around it. Gently as she can, she starts to urge Melanie back into the stacks. "Not now. I'll explain soon, just—"

A man with a full, bushy beard and a well-pressed suit rounds a row of shelves and pulls up short when he sees them. "Oh, there you are, ladies! I had heard an argument, but couldn't pinpoint its source."

Sasha maneuvers herself to stand in front of Melanie, her hand still gripping the other's in a vise despite the protests of the burns. "We apologize if we disturbed you. We were just leaving."

"Nonsense, no harm done. And I don't believe we've met, have we?" He holds out a hand to her. "I'm Peter Lukas, an old friend of your Watcher's."

Melanie squeezes back on Sasha's hand in warning, but even without that, Sasha wouldn't have reached for his.

"No, I believe not. Strange, as I've worked with the Watcher for many years and haven't seen you before."

His smile remains friendly enough even as he lets his hand drop. "I see. You must be Sasha, hm? Martin has told me some interesting stories about you." His tone is conversational enough, but the mention of Martin sends a warning bell off in her head. He pulls out the chair that had been occupied by Elias and Basira and sits down.

For some reason, through her panic, a strained laugh bubbles out of her mouth.

From behind her, Melanie gives her spine a sharp jab, and she tries to tug Sasha away.

"Something funny, Sasha?" Lukas asks, tilting his head a degree to the side.

"I was just wondering what sort of profound revelations you were going to impart to me," she says. "That space is reserved for them, apparently."

He lifts his bushy brows, and the hint of a smile plays at the corners of his lips — as if she presented him with the beginnings of a game he is excited to learn. "Then you have anticipated my visit?"

She doesn't answer.

He sighs and leans back in the chair, clearly a man at leisure. "Elias seems quite certain that you're going to get back his Archivist."

Sasha wishes that people would stop calling him that. The more they call him that, the more she wonders if there is even enough of Jon left to save. "I'm afraid I don't understand why Archival business would interest you, Sir."

This amuses him. "Sir," he repeats with a laugh. "I like that."

"I think a better question would be why are you still here," Melanie snaps, and mock surprise coats Lukas' expression.

"Is that you, Melanie? Why, I was under the impression that you had left. Made quite a show of it and all." He mimes a thumb slashing across his eyes, and Sasha winces — glad that Melanie couldn't see the action. "Martin was quite distraught."

"Where is Martin?" Sasha cuts in before either could continue. "I was hoping for his assistance in my task." The lie comes easily when she knows that he can't push her for the truth.

Lukas gives an ambivalent sort of shrug and begins to toy with the scraps of paper left on the table. A few have scribbled notes, but nothing interesting or worthwhile. Sasha made sure to destroy any eye she accidentally doodled. "He's busy with a task for me. I'm sure he has the utmost confidence in your abilities."

"I should still like to have his opinion on this—"

"Why?" Her request obviously takes him by surprise and he regards her curiously. "What do you think he would be able to assist you with? He is not an incredibly helpful assistant, unless you needed a cup of tea…"

Melanie gives another squeeze in warning. "And yet you seem insistent upon relying on him anyway."

"I always support family, and it seems that Elias is struggling with more mundane tasks of the Archives without a competent Head Archivist around, so I have stepped in to fulfill some of those duties." He begins to fold one of the pieces of paper, pressing his nail to the crease, then unfolds it and does it again in another shape.

"Hold on," Melanie says with a forced laugh. "You what?"

"Helping with administration?" Lukas asks without looking up.

"No, the part about supporting family."

"Oh," Lukas says, and as much as he tries to play it off as indifferent, there is an overwhelming smugness to his tone. "Yes, that. Martin. Some convoluted family branch, or root, et cetera. And seeing as I have no children of my own, I figured why not make Martin the inheritor of my estate."

Sasha can feel Melanie tense, but there's no further reaction. There is also far too much to unpack from his statement that she does not feel qualified for, especially without speaking to Martin about it. But the fog and his distance suddenly makes more sense. "Then if you have nothing to say to me, I'll take my leave."

He does look up this time. "I apologize, I didn't realize I was taking up so much of your time. Then my request is simple: Don't go find the Archivist."

She freezes in place, eyes widening a fraction. "Why?"

"He interferes with my plans." His fingers make a few more deft folds before he holds aloft the paper. It doesn't look like anything in particular, and instead of seeming content with his result, Lukas just frowns at it. "Actually, catching the two of you here is a stroke of luck."

"Why?" Melanie repeats for the both of them when Sasha can't find the words to speak. "You have got to be so far up your own—Ow!"

Sasha pinches Melanie’s hand to get her to stop. "Please speak plainly. Because you are taking up my time."

He turns his gaze on her, his eyes a thin and icy blue in a ghost-pale face. They remind her of the lake shore she stood on with Martin, and a shiver goes down her spine. "I am willing to make you an offer, Sasha. One that the Eye, the Archivist, and the Watcher are not willing to extend to you: Refrain from finding Jonathan Sims, and I will release you from your servitude to the Institute."

#the magnus archives #verse: every open eye #fic: lifeline

4 notes · View notes

silverbackwolf14 · 5 years

Note

Please do 27 for me when you get the chance, because when I shared this a while back, I was like "dear god I hope no one gives me Qcard for 27" 😂 Make it awkward and ask me back if you like! Lol

Sorry this took so long to do! This was an interesting one to try and pull off. I would very much enjoy reading your version of this scenario. For those who can’t remember, the prompt was “I’m Pregnant.” This is an Mpreg. Don’t like, don’t read.

Captain Jean-luc Picard walked with purpose down the long hallways of the Enterprise. It was always odd after coming back from a long temporal vacation. There was always a certain sense of disorientation. Never truly knowing what time it was, always feeling like it should be a different date. But the feeling always dissipated over time.

Jean-luc smiled, remembering his little get away with Q. They had spent the equivalent of four days in a little world Q had created just for them. Their ‘days’ had been spent making love, cuddling, and the occasional playful argument. And it had all been good. Very good. Q had decided that it was time to spice things up a little. Changing gender and form on occasion, but never too different from the form he usually wore. It had been a very pleasant vacation, but it was still good to be back.

He was absolutely delighted to walk in the door to find Q waiting for him. “Hello darling,” Picard whispered, leaning in to give his mate a kiss. “How are you?”

Q didn’t answer him, instead he busied himself by nuzzling into Picard’s chest. The Captain gave a soft chuckle at Q’s antics. “I missed you too dear.” He ran his hands through the soft curls atop of Q’s head. Gently lifting Q’s head from his chest, Picard placed gentle kisses across all of Q’s face. They soon were entwined in a soft, yet passionate kiss. Full, warm lips kept the revered Captain from thinking too hard. They did not, however, stop Picard from noticing something was off. The cozy intimacy that they had formed seemed almost nervous in nature. Perhaps it was that Q held him a bit too tightly, or maybe it was Q’s silence. Whatever the cause, it worried Picard. When the kiss broke, he was awaited by Q’s wide eyes.

“Q, is everything alright?” His hands drifted, rubbing Q’s back in a hopefully soothing motion. Q moved as if to kiss him again, but Picard put a finger to the other’s lips to stop him. “No Q. I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”

Q moved away from him just a little too quickly. Picard wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, or if Q was vibrating just slightly enough to cause a soft blur around him. The entity’s bright eyes seemed to be filled with supernovae as they twinkled, and shone in the darkened room. His full lips moved to say something, but no sound came out. Picard wanted so badly to go over and wrap him up in the most comforting forms of affection he could, but he knew if he did he would never get the truth out of Q.

“Do you love me?” The question was barely a whisper. So unlike Q’s general loud, flippant tone of voice.

“Of course I do. Have I ever given you reason to doubt it?” Q shook his head. “Exactly. So there is no reason to ever worry that I don’t love you, but this still doesn’t answer my question.” Picard stiffened, a sharp thought cut through his mind. “Q, did something happen? Is the Continuum planning something? Q, are they trying to take you away from me?” He gazed imploringly into Q’s face, searching desperately for an answer. He reached up to place a hand on his mate’s face. Picard’s heart almost seemed to split in two as he felt Q tremble.

“No, it…It’s not the Continuum. I just. I can’t believe I could be so lucky as to have you. So lucky to have you love me back.” With that he leaned down and took Picard’s face in his hands and kissed him. “Let’s not dwell on this anymore. I’ve missed you.”

They moved to the couch and nothing was said for a very long time. The only noise that filled the room was the humming of the engines, and the occasional sigh of contentment.

“Jean-luc, what do you think about having children?” At this Picard raised an eyebrow. Children? Why on earth would Q want to talk about having children?

“I don’t think I would make a very good father,” He responded; absentmindedly running his fingers through Q’s curly hair. Why was Q talking about having children? He had a son. “Q, is everything alright with Junior?”

Q shifted positions and snuggled closer. “He’s fine. I think he’s somewhere in the Gamma Quadrant right now.”

So Junior was ok, but that still didn’t explain why Q was talking about having children. Maybe it was just Q trying to make conversation. “So, what do you think about having children Q?”

“I think that there’s no one in the universe I’d rather have father my children than you.” Q kissed Picard’s neck before nuzzling back into his chest.

Picard began to panic. Did Q want children? He didn’t want to disappoint his mate, but he just didn’t see children fitting in with his life. It was true he had grown very fond of Junior, but he didn’t have to worry about something to him, or about raising him incorrectly because he wasn’t around all the time. No. He had to put an end to this before Q got carried away.

“Q, I don’t think having children would be a good idea.” Q seemed to tense up in his arms.

“Ever?” Q whispered meekly from the depths of Picard’s starfleet jacket.

“Ever,” Picard confirmed. “It’s just…Well Q think about it. What do I have to offer a child? And I don’t want my child to have to go through what Amanda did, only our child wouldn’t stand a chance because they truly would be a hybrid. And -Q?” Wet spots began to form on the shirt of the Captain’s uniform. Q was shaking gently, his hands clenched; grabbing fistfuls of uniform fabric. “Love what’s wrong? Q, I didn’t mean-”

“Please.” He choked out. “Please tell me… tell me…” Q was ready to break apart holding back the sobs that threatened to break free.

Picard began to soothingly rub Q’s back in comforting circles. What was going on with him? “What is it you need me to tell you dear? Oh mon petit, don’t cry.”

Q took giant, gasping breaths. Desperately trying to calm his human form down enough that he could continue speaking. When he thought he could manage speaking again, he tried to tell his mate what he needed for reassurance. “Tell me… tell me that there is some…some scenario w-where you’d be willing to have children with me.” Picard opened his mouth to speak, but Q quickly cut him off. “Don’t be specific, j-just tell me there is at least one or two scenarios where you would be w-willing to have a child with me.”

Picard was absolutely struck dumb by Q. What the hell was going on? He couldn’t even think, but surely… “Q, I-I’m sure there is a scenario, or two where I’d be willing to have a child with you, but I fail to see-”

Q squeezed him tighter. “T-thank you. Oh, thank you Jean-luc.” His sobs began to grow quieter.

"Q. Please. What’s going on?“ Jean-luc begged. "You’ve been acting odd this whole evening, and I’m worried about you.” Q removed himself from Picard’s embrace and headed to the window. His form once more retaking that soft blur.

"Promise you won’t get mad?“ Q whispered, his eyes not leaving the darkness of space.

"Q-”

"Promise.“

Picard let out a tired sigh, before responding. "I promise. Now what happened?”

Q’s blur worsened and it almost seemed that he would shake apart. Anxiety and anticipation consumed Picard. What could be-

"I’m pregnant.“

A sensation akin to ice ran through Picard. How? Why? Hell, when had it happened? What would the crew think? What would Starfleet do? Oh, God… What would the Continuum do? His mind ran a mile a minute. What was happening? What was happening? What was-

"Jean-luc?” Q’s timid voice rang through the confusion and chaos of the Captain’s mind. Everything came back into focus as Picard looked at Q. Tears swelled in Q’s eyes. Did Q really think that he would be angry with him? Did entity think that he wouldn’t love him any more?

“Q, what… What are you planning to do?” Picard wasn’t sure which answer he dreaded more.

Tears came streaming down, and choked sobs resumed their place in the air. “I w-won’t t…terminate! N-not even for you Jean-luc. T-this is m-my baby and damn the C-Continuum and their j-judgment!” Q was practically screaming. His body shook dreadfully as sobs wracked his entire form.

Picard stumbled over his own feet as he rushed to hold Q. He did everything within his power to calm down his mate. Placing kisses on his tear streaked cheeks. Whispering small words of reassurement, while rocking gently back and forth.

"Q, it’s going to be ok. I love you, and nothing is going to change that. You’re absolutely right. This is your baby. The Continuum, nor myself, have any say in what you do, ok? Oh love, it’s going to be ok.“ Q’s sobbing quieted down, but his body still shook horribly. “But my dear, if you do decide to keep our child, I have but one request,” He whispered to Q, lovingly nuzzling into his mate.

“And what is that?” Q hiccuped.

"That you allow me to be a part of our child’s life,” Picard whispered as lowered a hand to Q’s midsection.

“You mean it?” Q sniffled, tension slowly beginning to melt away.

“Of course I mean it.” He kissed the entity’s cheek with a softness reserved for only the most fragile of objects. “It’s not going to be easy by any means, but we are going to raise our baby, and things are going to turn out fine, alright?”

“I love you,” Q mumbled, as he practically melted into the captain.

“I love you too.” And to the child that was yet to be born, he internally professed himself. I love you as well, mon Petit.

#Qcard #PiQard #star trek #star trek tng #tng #Q #picard #Jean-Luc Picard #captain picard #Mpreg #writing #my writing #asks #I'm so sorry this is trash #I had no idea what to do #also sorry for the weird indents #mobile sucks with formatting #q star trek #q picard

18 notes · View notes

robinsdoghouseofwhump · 5 years

Text

Blackfire

Part 6 with @fallingstormphoenix! I've been having soooooo much fun writing with him. Believe me, we've been writing boatloads of stories for a few weeks now. Without further ado, Occuldous and Arron!

Occuldous slept for only a few hours before the nightmares woke him. He doesn’t cry out, just curls up under the covers, trembling.

"O-Occie?" The sound of the demon's voice echoed in the room. "C-can I sleep with you? I ummm… don't have to if you don't wanna."

Occuldous poked his head out and nodded. Arron! The company would be good, it might stave off the nightmares and the things in the corner of his vision. He scooted over to make room for him.

The demon smiled, sitting down and crawling under the covers next to him. "Nightmare again? I have those too."

He nodded and curled up beside his friend. I missed you so much. I thought a lot about here when Hugo had me. It hurts less when you think about good things.

"Do you umm… wanna talk about it?" Arron looked down. "I-I'm sorry you don't wanna talk… I didn't mean to make you upset."

I’m sorry, I can’t. words aren’t for me… I’m sorry... He leaned his head against his arm, his broken horn digging into his shoulder. He hoped that Arron would understand, he wasn’t mad at him, he was just scared and hurt and he was trying to be good.

"Uhm… uh.. Q-Quin says hi…" Arron smiled a little and handed him the stuffed animal, "I'm sorry you had a bad dream. Can I make it better?" Arron paused… for a moment. "My umm… my third master hated it when I talked too… i-is that why?"

He held the stuffed animal close to his chest and nodded. “W-words a-a-aren’t f-f-for m-m-mut-ttts.” He stuttered, shaking from the effort of speaking. He cringed, covering his head with his arms and trembling violently.

"I-It's ok, you aren't a mutt! Y-you're my friend Occie!" Arron leaned in and wrapped his arms around him hesitantly. "F-friends can talk."

Occuldous shook his head, pressing his face against Arron’s shoulder. “I-i c-can’t.” He whimpered. Master will be mad. He’ll hit me and cut me, and drown me. W-words aren’t for mutts. I-I don’t deserve to speak, I-I’m j-just a tool.

"I um… I love you Occie. Thank you for being here… I missed you."

Occuldous nodded and hugged him tightly. I missed you too. I’m sorry. I-i-im trying! I’m trying!

"Do you wanna go back to sleep? I can stay with you, to keep you safe."

He shook his head and pointed at the window. Outside? Please? The stars should be beautiful tonight.

"Outside? Ok! Can you walk?"

He nodded, getting up slowly, leaning on the bed for balance. He leaned his head on Arron when he came over to him. Thank you. It hurts, my legs hurt.

"Do you need help?" Arron asked, looking at his friend worriedly.

Occuldous nodded, please?

"Hold on then," The demon smiled as he grabbed the other's arm tightly, leading him out the window and up the roof.

Occuldous leaned on him, starting up at the sky, his freckles starting to glow faintly. He sat down slowly and painfully, then waved for Arron to sit beside him, which the demon happily obliged to.

"Pretty huh?" Arron laid down next to the starwitch, letting the night air overtake his body. "What's your favorite constellation?"

He pointed at the Big Dipper, tracing along the handle to the North Star. He then traced the same constellation along his collarbone, looking up at Arron happily. He touched Arron’s temple carefully, giving him the chance to pull away.

“Thank you.” Occuldous nudged the thought into Arron’s mind. Directly under the starlight, he was able to channel the energy straight into some of his newer abilities. He didn’t have the energy reserve to be able to do it on his own anymore.

"W-woah, you can talk like that?" Arron said, startled. "Is that new?"

He nodded. He took Arron’s hand in his own, once again giving him the chance to pull away, and carefully scratched it with a fingernail, leaving a tiny line of blood on the back of his hand. He closed his eyes and concentrated, then very gently placed his hand over the little wound. His palm glowed faintly, and when he pulled away, there was no evidence of the scratch at all. He smiled at him proudly.

“You can heal too!?” Arron pulled away, then thought for a moment. “Th-then why are you hurt still?”

He shook his head and placed his palm over a small, partially healed wound on his own broken arm. He closed his eyes and concentrated, his palm glowing again. There was a crackling sound, his eyes filled up with tears and he started trembling, then pulled his hand away. The wound was deeper and his bone was bent at a painful angle. He whimpered, holding his arm close to his chest, keening softly. If he tried to heal himself, it would only undo anything that his body had already done.

“N-no! Don’t do that Occie! Please don’t hurt yourself! Please!” Arron panicked and grabbed the boy’s arm. “I- I can make it better, kinda….” The demon produced a black flame, it flicked around his fingertips and was devoid of any light. “L-let me do it, please Occie?”

Occuldous whimpered and pulled away, scared of the flame. No no no no, please don’t burn me.

“I-it won’t hurt! See?” The demon took the flame and let it engulf his arm, earning a sigh from Arron in response. “It’s just super warm, like when its summer!”

Occuldous offered his arm hesitantly, whimpering softly.

The black flame danced over his arm, the warmth was comforting for a moment then became unbearably hot. Occuldous let out a cry of pain and scrambled away from Arron.

“PLEASE DON”T HURT ME!” The thought is loud and sharp, ladened with a lifetime of pain and fear, crashing it’s way into anyone nearby’s head with the force of a tsunami, followed with a telepathic shriek of terror.

“Ah! Wait! No!” Arron pulled back. “I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to!” The demon was knocked down from the splitting headache penetrating his skull, struggling to stop himself from screaming.

Occuldous scrambled away as fast he could, hiding behind an AC unit on the roof. He held his injured arm close to his chest, keening painfully.

Bang

Screaming

"What the hell?!" Abel looked up at the ceiling, where the sounds were coming from. "Arron?! Occuldous?!" The angel ran to the window and climbed the fire escape.

Occuldous was huddled behind the AC unit, having a panicked meltdown. Abel could feel the fear rolling off him,and every few seconds he was struck with telepathic broken-off panicked pleas for mercy.

“Please don’t drown me, please, beat me, b-brand me, break my legs, m-my arms, f-fingers again, please J-just not d-drowning. I’m s-sorry so so sorry Master, I-I’m b-bad, I-I did bad!” Occuldous’ thoughts pleaded, interspersed with wordless whimpers and sobs.

"Occuldous…." Abel walked over and crouched in front of the boy. "I'm here little one, what happened?" The angel looked down and saw the burn marks on the Starwitch's arm, noticing the distinct patterns on it as he turned to Arron with an angry, almost fiery glint in his eyes.

Occuldous whimpered, pressing his body against the AC unit, trying to hide from him.

But went Abel turned towards Arron, his body went tense with a protective instinct. Abel could easily kill his friend for this, and while he knew, in a way, that he wouldn’t, he could still feel the anger and his guts twisted in fear.

Occuldous growled a little, the first aggressive sound Abel had ever heard from him. “Don’t hurt him!” The piercing thought was more like a command than a plea.

Abel quickly grabbed the boy's chin and tipped it to make their eyes meet. "Don't. I'm not gonna hurt him. Tell me what happened. Now." Abel's voice was calm, but hard as a rock. "I want words."

Occuldous whimpered now that the attention was back on him. He tried to explain, his thoughts tumbling over themselves. “I-I-i was s-showing h-him my magic, s-sorry, I-I’m sorry s-so sorry. I-I-i h-hurt myself, h-he w-wanted to h-help…”

"Occuldous, do you know what angels are really good at?" Abel frowned at the boy, still upset.

Occuldous shook his head, but Abel caught flashes of him imagining awful things like being sent to hell, or dismemberment, or being torn from his physical body.

"You're lying to me little one, aren't you?" Abel looked at the boy with piercing blue eyes.

Occuldous’ eyes went wide and his already pounding heart starting beating so fast Abel could see his veins pulsating with his heartbeat. “I’m sorry! I’m n-not lying, I’m not I’m not…. I-I hurt myself, h-he w-was trying to help! H-he didn’t mean it…”

"Did he burn you? Why did you hurt yourself?" Abel grabbed the arm, now slightly charred on the wound.

Occuldous let out a little sob of pain at the touch but didn’t pull away. He put his hand on an old healed scar on the same arm and concentrated as hard as he could through the pain and fear. His palm glowed and he pulled it away after a moment, revealing a fresh-looking knife wound. He looked up at Abel, hoping he’d understand. He was quickly weakening and Abel could no longer hear his panicked thoughts.

"Occuldous, you don't do that to your body." Abel picked the boy up gently. "Don't do it again ok? Or I will have to punish you."

Occuldous whimpered and nodded obediently.

"Arron, you're in big trouble young man. You're gonna help me fix him." Abel carried the boy down to the fire escape.

Occuldous whined softly and pressed his face against Abel’s chest. He was tired, so tired. He just wanted to sleep. He worried he would not be allowed outside at night anymore and all his powers would slowly fade away. He feared that maybe Abel would be so mad at him now he would send him back.

"Shhh, go to sleep bud, it's ok. I'm right here." Abel smiled at the boy as he carried him to his room.

He let his eyes close but all his fear and pain wouldn’t let him actually sleep, so he just slumped in Abel’s arms, limp and quiet, in hopes he could let the dark swallow him before anything more painful happened.

"What can I do to help bud?" Abel laid the boy down.

He offered his broken arm to him. It was what hurt the most.

"Ok, let me see." The angel gently took hold of the charred and broken arm, earning a few keens and whines in response from the boy. "I'll try to heal it, but I don't know if it'll work or not."

Occuldous whimpered and pulled back a little bit. He didn’t know if the angels magic would interact badly with his own.

"Hey, its ok bud, don't worry." Abel's fingertips glowed with white light as he went to work on the arm.

He was flinchy but didn’t pull away. The surface wounds healed and his bone started to as well, with a wet crunching noise that pulled an exhausted raspy scream from Occuldous.

"Shshsh… almost done, I know it hurts baby." Abel managed to get the wound closed up and he let go of the boy. "There, all better."

Occuldous curled up, trying to hide under the blankets and pillow.

"I think its bedtime again little one. You seem exhausted."”

He whimpered softly and nodded under the pillow.

“Ok, then let's get you to sleep.” Abel slowly let his hand rest on the boy's forehead. Sleep Sleep Sleep.

Occuldous recoiled from the invasion of thoughts but quickly slumped and was snoring in seconds.

"Good boy, sleep well little one.

Occuldous slept through the rest of the night, peaceful under the influence of the angel magic.

45 notes · View notes

365daysofsasuhina · 5 years

Text

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Two Hundred Thirty-Seven: The Confrontation ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Hyūga Hiashi ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]

She knew it was going to happen eventually, but...well, that didn’t mean Hinata was looking forward to it, by any means. Part of her had hoped they’d make it through the Summer without Hiashi digging too deeply.

After all, at the beginning of this particular break between her sophomore and junior years of high school, Hinata’s life took a rather unexpected turn. A u-turn, to be exact. For almost a decade, her childhood friend had left her alone, in the dark, with hardly a word of explanation.

When Itachi and Sasuke’s parents died, many things changed. Primarily among them was the welcoming Hinata had received a year beforehand. The brothers had quickly adopted Hinata into their group when she, her sister, and her father moved into the house next door. Hinata had recently lost her mother, prompting the move across town. Staying in their first house had been too painful...for her, and for her father. But though her melancholy lingered, it lightened with her friendship with the boys.

Not only that, but their parents had taken a quick liking to the shy, quiet little girl. For a time, it was almost like they’d gotten the daughter they’d always wanted. Hinata attended some of her earliest classes with Sasuke, Itachi already in junior high by that time. And for that first year...things were good. She had friends, a new branch of her family, and though her father was still distant for his own mourning, Hinata was able to vent hers in a way that suited her.

But tragedy, it seemed, followed in her shadow.

The following Summer, with the suddenness of a car wreck...Fugaku and Mikoto were gone. The boys’ aunt, Mikoto’s sister, moved in and adopted the boys alongside her own son Shisui. But nothing was the same. Though Itachi was apologetic in his withdrawal, Sasuke didn’t even have the heart to explain, too devastated and lost within his sorrow.

Suddenly everything Hinata had gained...was gone.

The rest of elementary, all of junior high, and half of high school was spent practically alone. Having few other friends, and none nearly as close, Hinata drifted along as a wallflower, reserved and still wounded by the loss of her friend. Sasuke still attended all the same schools, but...he was a stranger. Any attempt to speak to him was ignored, any letter unanswered. He had retreated completely within himself...and for nearly ten years, there was just no room for her.

But one early Summer evening had changed that. Having caught Sasuke practicing one of Mikoto’s favorite songs on the guitar, Hinata had finally gotten a reply when she spoke across the gap between their windowsills.

And then, suddenly...it all came rushing back. As though no time had passed. The pair picked up their friendship just as it had left off...though Hinata would admit to a slight caution, wondering if he might just drop her again without warning.

With their renewed bond came a new pastime: Sasuke had taken up the habit of wandering after curfew, and Hinata was soon invited to join him. Together, the pair would wander the neighborhood under the streetlights, the entire suburb quiet and sleeping as they explored in the shadows. Again and again, Hinata was sure they’d be caught. But Hiashi never mentioned her late night wanderings, and Hinata never offered.

And then came the night where things changed all over again.

Armed with a blanket and a clear sky to stargaze, the pair had taken to hiding in the park atop the jungle gym, watching the night sky and talking quietly.

It was then Sasuke broke the tension...and asked if she wanted to evolve from friends to...something more.

She’d agreed.

So, the rest of the Summer has been spent with a new label, and yet...very little feels different. Sure, there’s a bit more...nerves when he’s around, and sometimes they hold hands. He’s even given her cheek a peck once or twice by now. But neither have informed their guardians of the change.

Sasuke is certain his aunt isn’t about to mind. She has far more to worry about overall, let alone concerning her nephew, than a blooming high school relationship.

Hiashi, however...is a different story. Hinata’s never even talked about boys with her father, and his strict leash has her assuming that the notion of her dating someone will go over poorly. She’s always been one of the good kids - straight-laced, good grades, obeying her curfew (to her father’s knowledge). Surely a boyfriend will reflect poorly on everything else in her father’s eyes.

So, the pair make no move to let on, acting romantically only when they’re certain they’re alone. Hiashi has begrudgingly allowed the revitalized friendship, having no rebuttal against Sasuke visiting his daughter, or vice versa. But neither are willing to test his opinion on them being something a bit more than friends.

But somehow - be it a slip up of their own, or some kind of fatherly intuition - Hiashi catches on. And that brings about the confrontation.

“Hinata.”

Stopping mid-step on her way outside, she turns to see her father seated at the dining room table.

...alone.

Unease blooms in her gut. “Y...yes?”

“Sit.”

...oh shit. Trying not to let her growing inner panic show, she takes a seat opposite him. “...um…?”

“It has come to my attention that you have been sneaking out past your curfew.”

She stiffens just a hair.

“...and it would seem you do so in order to spend unsupervised time with Sasuke. Do you deny it?”

“I-I…” Her brain scrambles, trying to think of a way to explain. “He invited me to go for walks. He, um...he does so to clear his head. And I go with him to make sure that he’s, um...that he’s okay.”

Hiashi doesn’t look convinced, expression stony as ever. “You’re sure nothing else happens during these walks?”

“...like what?”

“Drinking, smoking…” He waves a hand. “Whatever you kids get up to these days.”

Hinata balks. “N-no! I’ve never done either in my life! And as far as I know, he doesn’t either! Honestly, Father...we just go for walks. It’s nice when it’s q-quiet. We sit, and we talk, and...that’s all.” Her form wilts a hair. “...we have a lot to catch up on, a-after all…”

He seems to consider that, eyeing her openly. “...well, regardless of your actions while out, you have still been breaking the curfew I set for you. Let alone the neighborhood curfew. Were you caught, you’d be in serious trouble, young lady.”

“I...I know. I’m sorry.”

“If you were sorry, you wouldn’t continue such behavior.”

“I d-didn’t see the harm, is all.”

Hiashi heaves a sigh. “...there are far worse things you could do, but a rule breaking is a rule breaking. You can spend the next week at home - your visiting privileges to other houses is revoked until school starts next Monday. Am I clear? And any further late-night wanderings will compound your punishment.”

“Y...yes sir.”

“Good. You may go. I advise you think over your priorities, Hinata.”

Having no further answers, she takes her leave and retreats upstairs, taking up her phone and relaying the conversation to Sasuke via text.

So...no coming over today, then.

No, sorry…

It’s fine. Glad you’re not in any worse trouble. It’s just a week.

I know, but still...I was hoping we could stargaze one more time before school started. And now I can’t do it at all...he’s pretty mad about curfew. At least he doesn’t seem to know about us.

Maybe you can stay over sometime and we’ll do it that way.

Stay over at a boy’s house? He’d flip.

You could tell him I’m gay.

What? NO!

Hahaha, kidding - pretty sure I’m too fond of kissing you to be gay :P

Well...at least we can still text and stuff, but...I’ll still miss you.

I’m just a coffee bean throw away.

At that, Hinata smiles at her phone, saying a temporary goodbye as she flops atop her bed. Her last week of Summer break, and she has to spend it at home...wonderful. But Sasuke’s right: it’s just one week. It could be worse. For now, she’ll just bide her time, and be thankful that’s all he scolded her for...

.oOo.

More of the neighbors mini series...thing! I've lost track of what other days are involved...my bad OTL It's just too much to keep track of on top of everything else, but...a browsing through my modern tag will get you there eventually, lol Anyway, I tried to recap just in case someone new pops in. Poor Hinata - parental scoldings when you're that boring can be nerve wracking - I'd feel the same way whenever I got scolded xD Buuut yeah, that's all for tonight, I'm wiped~ Thanks for reading!

#sasuhina #uchiha sasuke #hyūga hinata #hyūga hiashi #best years of your life [ au ]#365daysofsasuhina

10 notes · View notes

randomnessunicorn-imagine · 6 years

Note

Hello there! I don’t know if you write for all characters in Star Trek TNG? But if you do can I please get a Captain Picard x reader, where she’s a bit younger than him (20s) and feisty and he falls helplessly in love with her, just general fluff? Maybe funny bits where Deanna teases the Captain about his feelings and makes him admit them to the reader? Sorry if you don’t write for this character, but I hope you have a great day either way!

{ Picard is my favourite in TNG so I’m always glad writing about him!

This thing came out longer than I thought, hope you like it, let meknow.

Like and reblog if you appreciate my fanfictions, that’’d make me glad! }

🍵 JEAN-LUC PICARD 🍵

Love was not one of the captain’s priorities.

The very thought of loving someone terrified him, made him nervous andworried.

The only thing he had to be in love with was his ship, his job and hiscrew. Nothing else. Picard would not have been so selfish to put a single personabove all these things. For this reason, he had chosen to be a severe, reservedand cold captain. His mind had to be lucid and detached from every humanfeeling that could compromise his mind and his performance at work.

The wise words of an old Vulcan friend came into his mind, the Vulcansaid that every emotion had to be suppressed from the very start. Because theheart always lied, emotions were liars and fickle and only the mind said thetruth. Only logic was honest, objective and real.

It would have been easier if he was a Vulcan but maybe then, Picard wouldnot have been a good captain. It was thank to those human qualities, hisindecisions and emotions that he became the proud and valiant man he was. Thequalities that had earned him the respect of his crew and friends. Qualities hecould not give it up and they were beyond every kind of logic.

Other times, the captain had fallen in love but it was never meant tolast. The woman he loved had betrayed him. If it was not enough, she hadbetrayed him with that crazy man named Q. Although he was not even a man but amalevolent, lunatic, manipulative entity who enjoyed tormenting him, since Qkept using the poor Picard as his toy and marionette. After that unpleasantepisode, Picard started losing faith in love.

Maybe he just met the wrong people. The umpteenth proof that he was not builtfor this sentiment and therefore he had to let go and ignore the desires of hislying heart and listen only to his mind, bearer of truth and rationality.Nothing mattered more than his integrity and professionalism.

After all, Picard was not like Shakespeare and this epoch was different.Picard was not a poet and could not afford the luxury of romance because of thepath he had chosen.

However, Picard could not imagine that his heart could be so stubborn,cruel and mocking because it had taken him by surprise and started beatingfaster than usual. This happened when he saw you for the first time, his heartskipped a beat and he forgot his name instantly. The meeting didn’t last longbecause he hadn’t had the chance to talk to you. You had just came here and soyou didn’t know anything about the world around you or what this life meant.

You were still innocent, full of dreams and hopes, so young in thatuniform of yours, your collar almost nude of pins but your smile shone withenthusiasm. Your smile made him fall irrationally and stupidly in love.

You reminded him of one of his past loves, when he was a carefree rebeland didn’t torment himself like now. When he did not fear love, on thecontrary, he searched for it and he was used to break hearts and fall in lovewith ease.

A melancholy smile appeared on his face as he dusted the memories of thepast, sitting in his office and sipping his delicious earl grey tea.

Time passed and the meetings between you and the captain became morefrequent, even if dictated by mere coincidence and no pleasure, they wereprofessional meetings during missions and explorations. Not that he intended todeepen this relationship, his work was his most important priority but otherpeople had noticed his feelings in his place. Because he could deceive himselfbut not the friends who surrounded him especially when the said friend was anempathetic woman who was able to perceive emotions. It was hard for Picard tohide or disguise his feelings.

One day Deanna approached him to talk about the feelings he keptignoring.

“Do you still think of them, Captain?” she asked, smirking amused,because she knew more than Picard thought.

“What do you mean, counsellor?” he asked absently, he pretendednot to have understood.

“Lately, I see you lost in your thoughts, almost nervous, issomething bothering you? Maybe a person?” she said and then sat in the chairin front of his desk.

“The usual worries, nothing serious. Thanks for your interest, counsellor.”he did not lie but was not completely honest and from the confident smile heshowed, anyone would have said that no grey thought was crossing the captain’smind.

“Are you sure, Captain? I’m talking about Y/N.” Deanna pronounced yourname and Picard’s eyes went wide, his expression became serious but curious,maybe Deanna was right and, in fact, a satisfied smile appeared on her face.

“How does ensign Y/N fit in this conversation?” Picard asked, seriously.

“I’ve the feeling you are very interested in them, I see youparticularly radiant every time you approach each other and you can’t stopsmiling like a child.” Her tone of voice was almost energetic, playful becauseDeanna was actually glad seeing her Captain so cheerful even though he did notwant to admit it.

“Well, maybe a little…” Picard smiled, finally, unable to hide the truthto Deanna, “But they’re younger than me. I can’t, I have responsibilities andduties, I can’t think about these youth affairs.” He said with severity andDeanna sighed.

“Interacting with your crew is your duty as well. Why don’t you invitethem to dinner?” Deanna suggested and the Captain shrugged his shoulders.

“Not that kind of duty.” Picard did not want to give up or maybe he wasnot ready, it was so hard, he could not lose himself again.

“Give them a chance and, before being a Captain, you’re a human and I thinkyou need that. You need some warm and relax, the company of someone. It doesn’thave to be a romance. You don’t have to marry them but only meet them and spendsome good time in complete comfort.” Deanna explained and Picard had no reasonto refuse it because her words made sense. He truly needed a rest and so hesighed and he agreed to her proposition.

After the conversation he had with Deanna, her mind was clearer and heunderstood that some time a man had to face the desires of his heart without betrayinghis mind and he could still be a great Captain without renouncing to his humanside, the things he craved in his heart.

68 notes · View notes

sheriddleston · 6 years

Text

00q amnesia au because i’m cliche like that

A/N: tfw you get tired of exams and decide to try to be creative again and dust off something from 007 fest this year as a snippet you will never expand on again :P

The sight of the flat left Q with the same sort of déjà vu feeling he’d been having since he first opened his eyes in the hospital. The flat looked nice, far nicer than anything he ever remembered – or even anything he could see himself living in. The décor was heavy on pastel colours and minimalistic in a way that made Q’s skin prickle; only the obscenely wealthy could choose to have so little. Not for the first time, Q wondered just who he’d gotten involved with.

Nevertheless there was recognition there, like hearing an obscure song on the radio years later.

Before he could dwell too much on it though, he heard a jingling sound to his right and something darted out of the bedroom door- something dark, fast and furry-

“Ginger!” Q instinctively dropped to his knees and gathered up the ball of fur in his arms. “Oh and Blue!” he exclaimed at the second cat slinking out after the first.

They purred affectionately, rubbing up against his thighs and Q couldn’t help the delighted laugh that burst out of him. Clearly, they’d missed him.

A soft noise from behind had him turning his head towards the door. Oh right. He’d almost forgotten -hah, forgotten! How silly of him. Bond.

The man in question had finished with the extremely complex-looking lock to the flat and was now gazing at Q with an inscrutable look on his face. His body language was as closed off as ever, hands shoved into his pockets.

“What?” Q asked almost defensively. Ginger nipped at his finger.

“You remember the cats,” Bond said dryly. He might have even looked a little amused. “Even the new one.” Startled, Q looked back at the cats clawing at him and realized it was true. He did. He remembered the cats, the way Blue liked to be cuddled while Ginger was a biter. He remembered the cats he hadn’t even known he’d had- but evidently not his job or his flat or his co-workers or his husband.

Christ, what a mess. Q could feel himself flushing as he averted his gaze. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Although what for, he couldn’t really say. He didn’t ask to be bashed over the head so hard that he’d actually forgotten almost all of his adult life and everyone in it, vague university recollections aside. He wasn’t willfully forgetting anything thank you very much and it’s not like Bond had been much help in the matter.

Ever since it’d become clear in the hospital that he had no idea who anyone was, that the memories that he did have were more scattered than the pieces of a toddler’s Lego set, Bond –apparently his fucking husband- hadn’t ever been in the same room alone with him or spoken more than a handful of sentences.

If anything, his rock had been Eve, who’d taken to explaining things to him patiently and shooting Bond dirty looks whenever the man ducked out of the hospital room.

“He’s a bit emotionally constipated, that one,” she’d said apologetically. “Don’t worry, he’ll get over it soon enough.” And the look on her face had told Q that if he didn’t, Eve would make him. Q hoped so because he wasn’t sure how exactly he could tell, but he got the feeling that Bond had been drinking. And often.

Bond let out a sigh, dragging Q’s thoughts back to the present. “It’s fine,” he said and Q felt a spark of annoyance light up inside. Of course it was bloody fine. Q knew it was fine, Bond’s the one who had all the problems with Q right now. “Go wash up,” Bond waved a hand through the air. “I’ll…make us dinner.”

There were a million things Q could say, a million sharp things that let Bond know exactly how he was feeling. But the slump in Bond’s shoulders as he walked over to the fridge made Q pause. In the end he decided to say nothing at all and quietly headed to the bathroom. Ginger and Blue followed at his heels. Whatever relief he’d felt at their arrival had evaporated, only to be replaced with the near-constant doubt.

The moment of privacy in the bathroom gave him a moment to think, to piece together all the oddities and soothe the frayed edges of his nerves. His head throbbed dully behind his eyes; blunt force trauma wasn’t going to be easy to shake off.

He wasn’t obligated to remain here, he reminded himself. He could leave. He had to have money for himself right? And he was fairly certain Eve would help him. Sort-of certain. This was…a trial run of sorts. Familiar surroundings to help him remember and all that. And the man was his fucking husband. He was supposed to be with family. So then why did he feel so off-kilter?

When he made it back to the kitchen, Bond was cutting up vegetables on the counter. Despite himself, Q took a moment to admire the way the muscles of his back shifted. At least the bloke was drop dead fucking gorgeous. Q apparently had quite the taste in men.

Bond looked up at that moment, as though sensing Q’s thoughts, then smirked when he caught Q’s gaze. He could feel himself flushing again, embarrassment coursing hotly through him. He bloody hated it, how he seemed to be such a complete open book to everyone he met now. Q never did well under pressure so perhaps his next words could be excused.

“You’re not all some sort of great big crime family, are you?” he blurted out.

“What?” Oh good. Bond looked genuinely confused. That was promising. Unless he was a very, very good faker which could very well be in the realm of possibilities. He carefully put down the knife to face Q, who tried not to gulp. “What makes you think that?”

“Well it’s just,” Q waved a hand around in the air for emphasis. “The way you lot are. The way you move, the locks in this place, all the secrecy about my job. Something’s very…shady about it. I mean, look at me! I got hit over the head! Deliberately! I don’t know how common attempted murder is but this isn’t exactly filling me with a lot of confidence. I don’t know who I am, or what I do or anything beyond this is your husband and those are your friends. It kind of...makes me wonder what I’ve gotten myself into.”

Q wasn’t made for keeping still and quiet and after an age of listening and nodding and trying to gather data, all of it just spilled forth from his mouth, without his permission. God, he thought as Bond’s blue eyes roamed across his face, he’d said too much. Now they were going to decide he was too much trouble and dump him in the Thames.

No, he reasoned. They wouldn’t dump him. They spent too much effort rehabilitating him to just cut him loose for a few questions now…where the fuck were these thoughts even coming from? Was this normal?

“Can’t keep anything from you huh?” Bond mused, almost to himself. He looked wistful, fond, and something twisted in Q’s gut at the sight. It was so very rare that Bond didn’t keep himself carefully controlled around him. “You’ve always been too smart for your own good.”

…Never mind, the Thames seemed more likely right around now.

“Would you stay?” Bond asked, suddenly taking a few steps forward. Something in his steely blue eyes made Q’s heart lurch into his throat; like coloured liquid nitrogen, cold but burning in its intensity. “If I told you to take us in good faith and trust us? Without asking any more questions?”

“I…” Q wanted to say no because what the fuck? What the actual fuck, his heart was thudding like a jackhammer. But…impossibly, he also wanted to say yes. And not, funnily enough, because of what might happen to him if he refused but because of the look in his eyes. Q remembered that. When the extent of Q’s memory loss had become clear. The quiet sort of devastation on Bond’s face, the way he looked shattered open. Those few moments where Q felt like he was looking at a person and not an actor. “I…”

Bond let out a sigh, leaning back on the kitchen counter. To Q, it seemed like he was deliberating something. There was a pause where nothing happened, time seemed suspended- then Bond met his eyes again.

“MI6,” he said.

“Huh?”

“MI6,” he repeated carefully. “I work for MI6, as a field agent. You work -or worked, I suppose- for them as well. Before. You were far up in the food chain. Obviously, the information regarding your little accident is sensitive. With your memory compromised we weren’t sure how much we should tell you.”

Oh. Ohhh. That- That made sense actually. Potentially. “A field agent? As in, a spy? For MI6?”

“Commander James Bond of the Royal Naval Reserve,” Bond confirmed, and he didn’t snap a salute or anything but there was a practiced ease in his voice. Q thought back to Tanner’s firm stance, Eve’s polished everything. The suits and the secrecy. If Bond was an MI6 agent, then Q was, what? A co-worker?

“Are we really even married?” Q wondered aloud, uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Or have you just been assigned to babysit me while I recover?”

Bond made a strangled noise and oh, there it was again. The devastation. Fuck. The roiling in his gut intensified. “We’re married,” Bond affirmed quietly and turned away.

Q was struck by the sudden, intense need to make it okay again.

“So,” he said, desperately casting around for a topic. Luckily, amnesia made it an easy search. “So, we were co-workers then? Isn’t there supposed to be rules against this sort of thing?”

“…There are,” Bond replied, still looking away. “We didn’t care.”

Huh, how interesting. That sounded…almost romantic. An illicit office relationship, spies and the Secret Service- all very noir-esque. And for the second time that night, Q let his mouth run away from him. “That sounds kind of hot, actually.”

There was a pause in which both Bond and Q took the time to process Q’s statement properly. And then possibly the wildest thing happened since Q had woken up in this confusing world. Bond laughed. It burst forth like it was surprised out of him- and to be fair, it most likely was- one hand going to the counter to steady himself. The sound was deep and seemed to curl inside Q’s ribcage and settle there.

Bond looked up at him, the mirth in his eyes made them softer, made the lines in his face deepen and the corners crinkle-

Oh, Q thought helplessly as his insides fluttered about. Things were starting to make much more sense now. It looked like he was sticking around after all. There was no possible way he could leave now.

“Well,” he told Bond, brusquely, all business now. “Since you’ve already told me the big secret, I suppose there’s really no point keeping hush anymore is there? You had better start from the beginning.”

#my writing #00q #amnesia au #quartermaster #james bond #00q au #i miss writing

244 notes · View notes

lachlantrash · 6 years

Text

Q&A

"Oh my god, I can't believe we agreed to this." You laugh, sitting in an office chair, Lachlan in one to your left and Jerome to your right. There's a camera that's facing the three of you, ready to record a video for Jerome's channel.

"C'mon, you two have been together three years, everything I ask you guys will probably be things you've already talked about."Jerome says, trying to ease you.

"Plus, if we don't like where he takes it, then we can always walk out." Lachlan offers, taking your hand in his.

"I don't think it'll come to that. Anyways, are you two ready to record?" Jerome asks, waiting for you both to say 'yes' before he presses the button on his camera. "Hey guys, it's Jerome and today, I have the pack power couple, Lachlan and (Y/N) with me. Their three year anniversary today, and I convinced them to record a Q&A with me before they drive out to the hotel they're staying at for the night." He laughs, winking at the camera. "Before we begin, say hi." Jerome says, motioning for you and Lachlan to greet the video.

"Hey guys, before you think too deeply into why we're staying at a hotel, it's because our dinner reservations are far from Jerome and Mitch's place, so we didn't want to have to drive back late at night." You say, waving at the camera.

"And, because we're probably going to have sex and Jerome complained about hearing us when he stayed at our place, so we thought it'd be nice to cut him a break at his." Lachlan adds with a laugh.

"Oh my god, Lachlan! I can't believe you just said that." You say, holding back your own laugh and covering your mouth.

"That's staying in, I'll make this a second channel upload." Jerome says. "Are you two ready for the questions?" He adds.

"As ready as I'll ever be." You sigh, running your free hand through your hair.

"Alright, so Lachlan... When are you going to pop the question? It's been three years, she must have started to nag you on it." Jerome asks, making you smile as you look over at Lachlan.

"Yeah, I like this question. When are you going to pop the question?" You ask, playing with his hand you're still holding.

"Well um... Shit Jerome, way to put me on the spot." Lachlan laughs. "When it feels right, I guess. I know she's the one for me, so there's no point in waiting too many more years for it, but I also don't want to rush it. I can guarantee I'll ask her to marry me within the next two years." Lachlan says, eyes on the back of your hand as his thumb runs over it.

"So I have at least a year to get a date for it, noted..." Jerome says, pretending to write it down on his sheet of questions. "Alright, have you two ever had sex at my house?" He asks, making a blush rise to your face.

"Um, about that..." You trail off. "Maybe a few times, but nothing crazy." You add, moving hair out of your face.

"More than a few times, some of our wildest adventures took place here." Lachlan says, laughing when you mock punch him in the shoulder. "I'm kidding, we're pretty tame here." Lachlan says, taking it back.

"Either way, you guys are sick. I would never get it on at your place." Jerome sighs, scanning his question sheet. "Alright, well will (Y/N) ever get another cat?"

"No more cats, Lachlan said I've reached the maximum amount of cats he'll deal with." You fake sigh.

"Oh c'mon, you have four cats." Lachlan says, making you roll your eyes.

"Right, but I could have five." You say in a matter of fact tone.

"No fighting here, I don't want to ruin your anniversary. What's the hardest part of living together?" Jerome asks.

"I'd say for me, it's the fact that he leaves things around. He picks them up eventually, but at night he'll just throw the shirt he was wearing across the room and call it a night, it bothers me." You confess, looking up at Lachlan.

"For me it's the fact that she gives her pets so much attention. After working sometimes I just want to cuddle and go to bed but she's always doing something involving the cats or the ferrets or the fish." Lachlan says, making eye contact with you.

"Both of those things could be annoying, I see." Jerome says, pretending to take notes again. "So both of you, who is your favorite member of the pack? And before you ask (Y/N), you can't say Lachlan." Jerome says.

"I'll go first so you can think, babe." Lachlan laughs. "My favorite would probably be Preston. I'm sorry Jerome, I really am, but Preston and I vibe out really well whenever I see him in Texas, and he doesn't try to steal my girl from me when he's drunk like you've done before." Lachlan says, making you laugh as you remember the event. "Plus, him and (Y/N) really get along, even when they team up to bully me." Lachlan adds.

"My favorite besides this hunk of an Australian next to me would have to be Mitch, just because I've known him the longest. I was friends with him before I even began dating Lachlan, and he's the reason Lachlan and I got together in the first place." You say, shrugging afterwards.

"I'm actually so offended you two, I'm neither of your favorites!? Whatever, moving on... Obviously you two aren't even engaged yet, but any ideas on where to go for your honeymoon?" Jerome asks, making both you and Lachlan laugh.

"Well, we've had talks about it, but we have mixed feelings. I want to go somewhere warm, like the Bahamas or something. She wants to go somewhere cold." Lachlan says.

"Well if we go somewhere cold we can stay cuddled by a fire, and during the day we can snowboard and stuff, it's cute." You argue.

"If we go somewhere warm, I can see you in your bathing suit." Lachlan counters.

"If we go somewhere that's cold and has a hot tub, you can see me in my bathing suit and less." You wink at him, making him let out a little laugh.

"Alright, you've convinced me." He says jokingly, leaning in to plant a kiss on your lips. "Shit, I forgot about the camera." He says when he pulls away, noticing Jerome just staring at the two of you.

"I don't know what I just watched, but I'm going to move on... How many kids do you want to have? And let's say you had one boy and one girl, what do you guys want to name them?" Jerome reads from his paper.

"Well, I want three but he wants four. If I got to name one boy and one girl, I'd name a boy Bentley and the girl Allison." You say, looking to Lachlan. You two have never discussed names before.

"I like Bentley, but I always pictured having a little girl named Farrah." Lachlan says.

"I can deal with Farrah." You tell him, squeezing his hand.

"Good, that was an easy agreement. (Y/N), do you like the sidemen or the pack better?" Jerome asks.

"That ones easy, obviously the pack. I'm kind of dating a group member from there, so it'd be kind of unjust for me to say I like the sidemen better. Even though they're all ultra cool guys and I totally think Harry's cute, I'm going to have to say the pack because Lachlans just a smidge cuter." You say, laughing as Lachlan gives you a dirty look.

"Harry's not even close to being on my level." Lachlan huffs, jealousy clear in his tone.

"Oh c'mon babe, all I did was call him cute. Obviously I'm not interested in him when I have all of you to myself." You defend yourself, making Jerome gag.

"No lovey dovey talk please, I know this is a couple Q&A but save the love eyes and speeches for later. Let's move on, do you two like being the longest standing pack couple?" Jerome asks, scanning his sheet.

"I love it, all of the boys go to (Y/N) for relationship advice on how to treat their girlfriends if they have one. And then they'll go to me to see if I have any secret tips on how to keep a girl happy and interested. I feel respected when it comes to it. What about you, babe?" Lachlan asks, curiously looking at you.

"I love it too, especially because the fans call us mom and dad. I think it's funny, when I get tweets saying 'mom, tell dad to upload' or if I scroll through your YouTube comments on videos of us and people will be like 'mom and dad are so cute together'." You laugh. "At first I was wary about getting romantically involved without a youtuber, because fans can be brutal. But for the most part, yours have been nothing but nice to me." You add, looking at Lachlan appreciatively.

"I think that's because they knew who you were before we were dating. They've seen you in in Mitch's videos before I even knew who you were, and then you moved it to Australia and at first they didn't know we were dating, but we told them we were friends and they immediately wanted us to date. I think a lot of them are just satisfied that they were correct about us having a thing." Lachlan laughs, looking at you after he finishes speaking.

"Please don't forget I'm here, guys." Jerome chimes in, drawing both your attention and Lachlan's. "So, can I be the best man at the wedding, whenever it does happen?" Jerome asks, looking hopefully to Lachlan.

"Sorry mate, but I've already promised Mitch that if (Y/N) and I get married, he's the best man for introducing us." Lachlan says, making Jerome gasp.

"I'm actually offended, first I'm not the favorite and now I can't be the best man? Fine, what about the maid of honor?" Jerome asks teasingly. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. But, can I at least be a groomsmen?" Jerome sighs out.

"I don't know, we'll see." Lachlan answers, making a laugh escape your lips.

"Wow, savage level answers here." You laugh. "If he tells you no Jerome, you can be a bridesmaid."

"Thanks (Y/N), all the years I've known Lachlan and he won't even let me be a groomsmen at his wedding. I can't believe this." Jerome sighs out.

"Oh I was only kidding, of course you can be a groomsmen." Lachlan says, making a smile appear on Jeromes face.

"I knew the pity party would work." Jerome cheers. "Well uh, that's all the questions I had... Are you guys excited for your date?" Jerome asks.

"Yeah, yeah we are." You laugh, the awkwardness clear in Jerome's voice.

"Well that's all then guys, I hope you enjoyed the inside information from the power couple themselves." Jerome says, finishing off his outro before turning the camera off. "Alright you two, you have permission to go on your date now." Jerome says.

"Oh why thanks, I didn't realize I needed permission to take my girlfriend of three years out to dinner." Lachlan laughs, letting go of your hand so he can stand.

"Yes, you still need permission to take her out. And have her home by ten!" Jerome says sternly, making you laugh as you stretch, standing after and hugging Lachlan.

"Are you ready to go?" You ask, taking your head off his chest to look him in his face.

"I'm always ready to go somewhere with you. Are you eager to get to the hotel?" He asks a smirk on his face making you roll your eyes.

"Actually I am, but I think we're excited for different reasons. I'm excited to get ready for our dinner date." You say, playing with the bottom of Lachlans t-shirt.

"I'm more excited for what's going to happen after dinner." Lachlan says, the smirk on his face lasting a second longer before he leans down and places a kiss on your lips.

"Alright you two, that's where I draw the line. Go, get on out of here." Jerome says, making you pull out of the kiss to laugh.

"Okay, lets go." You laugh, pulling out of the hug and instead grabbing hold of Lachlans hand.

"Whatever you say, babe." Lachlan says, making your heart flutter at the man you've fallen in love with.

#lachlan #lachlan power #lachlanpower #lachlanyt #lachlan x reader #lachlanxreader

10 notes · View notes

five-hour-anxiety · 6 years

Text

depresssion vlog 😥😴👎💭🏳️ | The Theory Of Real Activity | thursday vlogs

Taglist: @zerogettie @spacevirgil@tree4life25@thebiggestnaturaldisaster @pailettehazel@jordandobbertin@thecityofthefireflies @the-fabulous-kimball@azuranightsong@virmillion @erlenmeyertrash @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @the-sanders-sides @punch-you-with-friendship@captaincantatrice@clovenpinetree @jughead-is-canonically-aroace@aplaceinthevoid@that-random-fandom-girl @zennyo

Word Count: 4431

Warnings: depression and talks of anxiety

Pairings: platonic prinxiety, platonic logicality, platonic analogical

Summary: Virgil is in the middle of a spiral and the back to back bad days are making it hard to function. He texts a few friends for help, and this is the result.

Designated Nerd: Virgil, it has been some time since I’ve heard from you. Are you feeling well?

Me: i mean, am i ever fine

Designated Nerd: Well that is indeed worrying. Is there anything I can do for you, or would you rather I contact our more… emotional friends? Do you need me to come visit?

Me: no, i dont want anyone over right now. this is gonna sound so stupid but,,, could u tell me what u do when ur upset

Designated Nerd: If it helps, of course. I tend to listen to stimulating music and take hot showers. Please try to brush your teeth sometime soon as well, as hygiene is something that we all tend to be lax with in these states.

Me: i should have expected advice like that

Designated Nerd: Is it not useful? I apologize.

Me: o no, its good. thx lo

Designated Nerd: Anytime Virgil. Do not hesitate to contact me if you need anything else.

***

Sir-Sing-A-Lot: hey panic at the everywhere, u still breathing

Me: wow didnt kno u cared that much

Sir-Sing-A-Lot: of course i care u ass how u doing

Me: i mean im not dead. thats a fucking victory dude can i get a hell yeah

Sir-Sing-A-Lot: hell fucking yeah bro im proud of u

Me: hey while ur here,,,, how do u deal with ur bad days.

Sir-Sing-A-Lot: poorly

Me: damn dude

Sir-Sing-A-Lot: yeah well thats life but i also light candles and fucking moisturize. unlike u u heathen

Me: thanks u fucking prick

Sir-Sing-A-Lot: hate u too u asshole c u this weekend~

***

Pat-Dad: hey kiddo!! haven’t heard a peep outta you lately, just wanna make sure you’re still okay!!

Me: im not okay, actually. but im glad u texted bc i have a q for u

Pat-Dad: anything for you kiddo, tell me how i can help!! :)

Me: wat do u do on bad days. like, how do u deal with the shitty emotions

Pat-Dad: language kiddo.

Me: hellcrab.png

Pat-Dad: i dont have the profanity manatee on me so just pretend i sent that. anyway! i like to watch a bunch of funny shows and sit around in my favorite clothes! gotta feel good somehow!! and like, a lot of pillows are involved.

Me: is this permission to turn my living room into a pillow fort

Pat-Dad: absolutely!!! but make sure you eat something today kiddo,,, making food is gonna be better than takeout btw. Feels good to have made something, trick the brian into enjoying the food more.

Me: brian

Pat-Dad: *brain, oh hush up

Me: thanks 4 the help. <3 u

Pat-Dad: anytime kiddo!!!! :) <3 love you more!!!!!

***

“Welcome back to the Theory of Real Activity -- today’s vlog: not what you all signed up for.” Virgil sighed, running a hand through his hair. “As I’m sure a lot of you have noticed, or at least the twitter crew has, I haven’t been as active on the channel lately. And I’m sorry about that, but I think I’m ready to talk about why now.

“As many of you know, I have depression and anxiety. No way around it, there’s the truth. Often, these diseases prevent me from functioning like a healthy person would. That’s what’s been happening to me for the last few months. I’ve had a hard time getting up and dragging myself anywhere, much less making new content for all of you. Talking to friends via text is really hard too, so Twitter is something I can’t deal with either.

“And I know a lot of you out there are the same way -- heck, when I do use Twitter and the likes, I see messages like that all the time. And I’m happy I’m able to help you all through those days when I can. But I can’t always be around to make stuff like that, so today I’m gonna talk you guys through helping yourselves when the days get bad and the voices get loud, okay?

“But don’t let the start of this video fool you -- this isn’t a ‘oh we’re all gonna be okay if we just believe!’ kinda thing. Because there’s a lot of those. Don’t get me wrong, those are all wonderful messages and I really appreciate them, but I don’t think we need another one right now. What’s the point in trying to be motivated when the energy just isn’t there? I don’t know about any of you, but I almost feel worse when I watch those because I know whoever is on the other side of the screen wants me to work for happiness and I just… can’t. I can’t do it when I’m that low. So, no, this is not one of those videos.

“This is something completely different, I really hope it clicks with a few of you.”

The camera switches out of selfie mode to reveal a table full of shopping bags. Virgil laughs off-screen and there’s the sound of papers shuffling.

“Ladies, Gents, and everyone beyond the binary welcome to ‘How to Kinda Cope with Shit Brains’, starring yours truly. Let’s begin, shall we?”

***

“Logan, you didn’t tell me you were uploading a video today! What’s this one about?” Patton squealed, clicking on the notification. Logan peered over his shoulder, trying to make out the display behind layers of smudges and a few cracks.

“I- I did not upload a video today as Thursdays are typically reserved for anything Virgil wishes to post. That’s why there have not been any midweek videos recently.” Logan pulled out his own phone, giving up on Patton’s, and quickly unlocked the screen. “There is no one else with access to the account, so who- oh never mind. That is clearly something of Virgil’s creation.”

“My goodness, he sure loves emojis, huh?” Patton giggled, reaching into his pockets. Logan groaned something like ‘you have no idea’ and pulled out a screen cloth for Patton. The younger man took it and quickly cleaned off his screen before pulling out his earbuds

“Do you wanna watch it together?” He asked, dangling them in front of Logan. Logan stared at him, grimacing.

“Do you know how unsanitary sharing earphones is, Patton? I have a split connector in my bag, allow me to retrieve it and we shall view it together.”

***

“So, I have compiled a list of things my friends do when they’re having bad days, as well as a few activities of my own, and we’re gonna test them. I’ll take note of how I feel before I start, do the activities, and then I’ll rate them by how I feel afterward. And if that sounds complicated, it is! Kinda. Logan says it’s the proper way to test things, by having a starting point and an end point, so go ask him? I don’t know, he’s always talking about control groups and I don’t know about any of you but I don’t want to make myself have bad days back to back just so I can test a bunch of things ‘fairly’.

“Anyway, first up: Roman’s list. He- he actually didn’t have much to say, just “moisturize bitch’ so I just pulled ideas from what he normally does on off-days. Sorry, Ro, but you brought this upon yourself.”

Virgil reaches into the bag marked “Bed, Bath, and Beyond” and fishes out a bottle of something pink, as well as a purple container of lotion and a green candle.

“I know for a fact Roman prefers grapefruit face wash, so that’s what we got here,” he shakes the pink bottle, “so we can gift this to him when we’re done here. And we have a bottle of lavender-scented lotion to go with it. I read somewhere that lavender helps with anxiety or something, but like,” he points at the camera, “it just smells good, and I am not ashamed to admit to that. Don’t read too much into this.

“I also bought a scented candle, because that’s the only other thing Roman offered advice-wise. I fact-checked this one, and apparently good scents are supposed to help you think more clearly? Or something. I don’t know, I read the article at four in the morning, there’s not much I can really remember about it. Four am Virgil is really bad at retaining information.”

The camera jostles as Virgil picks it up and walks into his bathroom. “Uh, just for like, the starting point? The best way to describe this type of anxiety is the buzzing and tensing of your muscles and the tightness in your chest. There’s nothing I want more than to dive under my bed sheets and sleep until tomorrow and try again later.

“But I’m going to do this, so wish me luck.” He mutters, turning the tap on and grabbing a washcloth. The screen cuts away to black as an upbeat nineties song plays, and the text on the screen reads ‘Roman’s results’.

“So,” Virgil starts, his face covered in white foam, “this stuff kinda burns? Roman, what the hell is wrong with you, you like this stuff? Ugh. Also, just so everyone knows, the smell of artificial grapefruit and lavender do not mix. Like separate, they are really good smells but just… don’t mix them together. It’s a really bad idea. We may have to do my list next so I can let the house air out for a while. As it is, I didn’t even try to light the candle, we do not need to add spearmint to this stink bomb.

“Beyond that? The face wash is definitely waking me up. I feel a little more ‘oh hey, I’m a person’ that I did before so, yeah. This wasn’t a total bust. And my skin is soft! I understand the appeal of moisturizing now! Roman, how dare you keep this a secret from me?” Virgil laughs, rubbing his hands together. “Holy shit I feel like a million bucks. I am keeping the lotion, you can take this demon face scrub.” Virgil reaches off screen and picks up the pink bottle, scanning the back panel of text.

“So overall, I’d say Roman’s tactics work. You just gotta like, make sure you get complimentary smells so you don’t stink yourself out of your house,” He says, still reading the bottle, “And you should definitely read the instructions on the bottles because this,” He holds up the pink bottle, “says to wash off after a few minutes, and it’s been ten. I’m gonna go get this off my face now.”

***

“Babe, you seriously didn’t read the instructions?” Roman howled, throwing his head back into the couch. He could hear Virgil scoff from the kitchen.

“Excuse me, but I thought it was like one of those face masks you leave on for half an hour! How was I supposed to know!” He asked, walking back into the room and plopping down beside Roman. “They look the same when you put them on, and you have a few long-lasting ones that smell like grapefruit! I had no way of knowing!”

“You could’ve called, man. I would have helped you!” Roman lifted his arm, inviting Virgil to crawl under it. He took it and wrapped his arms around the taller man’s chest. “You bought face scrub, which is definitely not the same thing. Both are good though! Just, not that same.”

“Yeah, well, I know that now,” Virgil muttered, burying his head in Roman’s hoodie.

“We can do actual face masks after this if you want.” Roman offered, picking his phone back up. “Your pores could really benefit from one.”

“You’re a dick. Turn that thing off.”

“Love you too, bastard, but there’s no way in hell I’m turning this off.”

***

The camera cuts again, and this time Virgil is in his bedroom. The window is open, and the sound of passing cars is almost inaudible but still present. His peach walls are bathed in a warm glow of the setting sun, a light breeze pushing his bangs up every so often.

“Okay so, next up is Patton’s list. As per my own ‘rules’, I’m feeling mentally exhausted and ready to check the fuck out right now. But despite this, I’m actually… really excited for this one? It involves food, there’s no way this can go poorly.”

The video cuts to footage of Virgil screaming as food on the stove erupts into flame. The 1812 Overture is playing the background. Whatever was in the pan is no longer food, as the burnt sustenance is bubbling in an ominous manner. The oven mitt is no longer on Virgil’s hand and is instead in a smoky heap on the kitchen counter.

“No way this can go poorly” Virgil’s voice echoes as he runs off camera screaming. He returns with a fire extinguisher, the lens becoming jammed with foam just before the video cuts back to Virgil in his room eating Chinese takeout.

“Okay so. It turns out it can go poorly. Patton said that making sure you eat, like, actual food and not six servings of chocolate cake with a glass of cherry coke on the side is supposed to help with the depression thing but like. It definitely didn’t help with the anxiety. Something about the food you worked to make tasting better?

“So, I cheated and ordered take out. But hey! This stuff has got a bunch of veggies in it, so I think I won this round. Moving on,” Virgil puts the food down and leans down to grab something off the floor, “Patton also recommended watching some shows that I know I enjoy, so let’s do that next.” Virgil puts on the purple headphones he had grabbed and pulled his laptop onto his lap. He clicks off the light on his desk and plunges the room into darkness with only his computer light illuminating his face.

“We’re watching the entirety of the Brooklyn Nine-Nine Halloween episodes, so be prepared for a highlight reel of that while I stuff my face with rice.” He twirls his finger around in a ‘roll film’ motion and kicks his feet up on the desk.

The camera cuts to a black screen once more, the same upbeat music playing in the background. The text now read’s “Patton’s results”.

The next few minutes is a series of clips strung together, many of them consisting of Virgil mouthing the lines along with the characters, and screeching with laughter. The last one shows him crying into his takeout, mumbling about how much he loves the relationship between Jake and Amy. He had taken his feet down from the desk at some point, now curled into his chair and bundled in his hoodie almost entirely.

The video cuts away to a slightly more composed Virgil, who is now cuddling a pillow and scraping the bottom of the takeout box. His eye makeup had run down his face over the last few hours and he looked unnaturally pale in the weird lighting.

“Yeah that uh,” He coughs awkwardly, “that worked. Ten out of three Patton, way to go. Got my brain to shut up for like, I don’t know, two hours?” He takes a deep breath and puts the takeout container on the desk. “It’s late, I think I’m gonna just do Logan’s and I’s lists tomorrow.”

***

“Should I be concerned that he set the kitchen on fire and didn’t call anyone?” Patton whispered, pausing the video. “Why didn’t he call anyone? Did he get burned?”

“I do not think you speeding to his house would have done any good, Patton, as he got the fire out by himself. That being said,” Logan pinched the bridge of his nose, “he is not allowed to cook for game night. Ever. What was he even trying to make?”

“He can join me in the kitchen ban, then. The store-bought cookie club just gained a new member.”

“God help us if you ever cook together. I’d have to take out a loan for a new apartment. I already cannot pay my student loans, I fear the possibility of adding to my life debt.” Logan shuddered, reaching over to unpause the video.

***

“Okay, good morning internet. It’s buttcrack early outside, I don’t even think the sun is up yet? That’s good, actually, and I’ll get to why later.

“So, all that’s left is Logan and I’s lists, and to be honest? Logan may have already won the whole thing, looking at this on paper. He actually cares about like, not dying by germs or some shit.,I can guarantee his list will be practical. I gotta go set some stuff up for my list, so hang tight.” The screen cuts to a slightly more awake Virgil.

He grins and gives a tiny wave before tapping the screen to switch the camera and show a hammock.

“So, I’m next. I’m also gonna save Logan’s advice for the end of the video so you guys watch this whole thing. Give people an incentive for sticking around. Because I can see the stats on this, I know half of you like, exit the video halfway through. Stay for the whole thing, dammit, I need the ad money.” He laughs, gently putting the camera down. The screen shows a new sunrise, one full of soft purples and oranges. Above the sun and its halo are a few stars that have yet to go out for the day, barely visible behind the hazy clouds. Virgil picks the camera back up, the footage shaky.

The camera stills to a shot of Virgil’s legs, the hammock swaying gently in the breeze. A few frogs can be heard singing in the background and Virgil hums a few notes. His voice is low as he speaks, still rough from sleep.

“Again, to follow my own rules: I feel so awful I don’t even want to talk about it, guys. Sorry.” Virgil is quiet for a while longer, the occasional whispered lyric picked up by the microphone. Eventually, he speaks once more, a lighter tone to his voice.

“Sure, this looks peaceful, but if you could all hear what kind of music I’m listening to right now, you’d be calling my therapist. Hey, Paul, I apologize my bro, but wow are you not gonna like me the next time I’m in.

“So yeah, my list is just ‘get sun and get songs’. You Gucci fam, just stay out here until you either feel good or get cold. Probably gonna be the last one but, hey, you tried. Gold star. Bring a blanket if you wanna aim for the best possible outcome.”

The camera cuts again, this time looking down from what is assumed to be a porch. The sky is dark once more, and the only source of light is a small candle.

“Huh. What do you know, the candle works after all. Spearmint -- the poor man’s anti-anxiety. You know, I actually looked that up. Spearmint is supposed to be a good stress reliever and some kind of mood booster. The more you know, huh?”

***

“Virgil, what the hell does that mean?” Roman chuckled, rubbing Virgil’s arm.

“It means that when I’m panicking at work I just pop in a breath mint and BAM I am suddenly closer to reality than I was ten seconds ago.”

“Do I wanna know how you discovered that?”

“I had a hangry panic attack in high school and the only thing I had to eat in my bag were breath mints I was meaning to gift to you.”

“Oh, that’s pretty- hey.”

“You could still use some, man. Keep your nasty breath away from me.”

Roman just hummed, looking at Virgil from the corner of his eyes. He smiled softly, his eyes sad and concerned. Pulling him closer, he unpaused the video and listened as he continued to hold his friend.

***

“And last but certainly not least, is the list of the late, great Logan. He’s not dead. He’s just always late to dinner dates. Like a pretentious nerd, his excuses are ‘oh, I was studying’, ‘oh, I had an exam’, or ‘Patton set the kitchen on fire again, call 911’. What an ass.

“Anyway. This list, which doesn’t have a cool name because Logan is against emojis and stuff, just has like, five items on it. In order that is: brush your teeth, put on some clean clothes, wash your hair, put on some socks, and the last one is a surprise. Because it really took me off guard and I need you all to be as surprised as I was.

“And right now, I just feel apathetic. In case someone gets upset that I didn’t mention I felt going into this, I just feel apathetic.”

The video cuts away to Virgil’s bathroom once more, and the leftover mess from the other day can be seen in the sink.

“Uh. Just, just ignore that mess. You know what it’s from, I don’t feel bad about that. Anyway, teeth brushing. Let me just find the toothpaste…

“You know, I can’t remember if I bought toothpaste at the store. Of all the crap I bought, don’t think toothpaste made it into the bin. So, let’s just see if I still have any of the travel samples from the dentist.”

Virgil riffles through his cabinets, pulling out items such as combs, hair dye, bleach, and a bottle of pills. He hums for a second, before crouching down to look under the sink.

“I feel like, and I could be the only one who experiences this, I feel like anything that gets put under the sink will never see the light of day. So maybe I won’t be brushing my teeth today- wait. Wait! Oh gosh, thank you Jesus- there’s a- there is a bottle in the back there, but I can’t reach it. Outta my way, makeup kit, I got teeth to be cleaned!”

Virgil pops back into view, holding up a half used mini bottle of toothpaste. It’s the kid’s kind, that tastes like berries and bubblegum. He uncaps it and starts to squeeze it out onto his toothbrush buts stops short.

“Why the hell are there sparkles in this thing? That- isn’t that a, like, choking hazard or some shit? Okay, sorry Logan, teeth brushing is not happening in this video. I think you’d agree with me on this. When you get to this point in the video, feel free to add toothpaste to our shopping list.”

***

“Jokes on you, Virgil, I added it yesterday when I spent the night and had to use that monstrosity.”

“I use that stuff all the time, Logan, there’s nothing wrong with it! Look at me, I’m perfectly fine!”

“That’s… that’s a, uh, great point Patton. Explains a lot.”

***

“Okay, so next on the list was clean clothes. I’m doing that off camera, you nasties, so hang tight for a word from our sponsors.”

The screen is black, with white text reading “crofters plz sponsor us logan is desperate.”

Virgil reappears, in the same hoodie and shirt. He smirks, pointing at a pile of clothes on the floor.

“Ha, I own two of these hoodies and three of these shirts. I am a cartoon character, y’all will never see me in a different outfit. You can dream, but my job is to crush those dreams.” He makes a fist as he says this, laughing through his teeth as he tries to appear tough.

The camera cuts again, this time showing Virgil singing into a hairbrush while a towel is wrapped around his head. The scene doesn’t last long, as we are once again taken back to Virgil’s bedroom where he is set up with a laptop. This time he’s on his bed and the curtains are drawn.

“It said to wash your hair, and you can’t wash hair without serenading the monsters living behind the shower curtains we all feared when we were little. Just because we aren’t afraid of them doesn’t mean they aren’t real!

“Anyway, this is the last part of Logan’s list. It’s actually really sweet? Like, I am a grown ass man, and I am not ashamed to say I sobbed over this.” He continues, voice starting to tremor.

Virgil spins his laptop around to show a YouTube video that’s about half an hour long. The title reads, ‘the best of Bert and Ernie from Sesame Street’. Virgil sniffs real fast, raking a fist over his eyes.

“He uh, he knew these guys were my heroes growing up. And he knew it would cheer me up. Guess w-hat man,” Virgil sniffs again, “It- it worked like a fu-fucking charm. I uh, I’m actually feeling things after going through your list, so like. Nice work, I guess, I owe you dinner. Like, dinner at a restaurant, not a cooking dinner because I don’t want to poison you.

“Ahem. Anyway. That’s the best thing in this whole video, you win Logan. And that about wraps up the Thursday vlog. Thanks for listening everyone, here’s the obligatory ‘we’re gonna be okay’ message, because as corny as that is -- it’s true. Find yourself a Bert to go with your Ernie and it’ll be okay. Maybe throw in an Elmo or a Zoey if you wanna round out the group. And my metaphor is getting too complicated, so! Virgil out! See you this weekend for the next Theory of Real Activity -- Logan and I are joined by Patton this time and we get into wild shit this week, let me tell you.”

***

“Well, what are we still waiting around here for?” Patton asked, turning his phone off. He disconnected the earbuds, stuffing his haphazardly into his front pocket. Logan winced at the sight, and quickly but carefully wound his up into their case.

“I’ll text Virgil to make sure he knows to expect us. Patton, if you could text Roman?” Logan asks, standing up and smoothing out his shirt. Patton nods, already poking away at his phone.

Me: Greetings, Virgil. Patton and I are on our way over to your house if that is okay?

Virgil Jackson: cant tell you no, you practically live here

Me: Yes, well, that is true. Is there anything I should bring with us?

Virgil Jackson: would it be lame to say a hug

Me: Not at all. If there is anything this group is good for, it’s hugging and crying. The occasional yelling, but that could go either way.

Virgil Jackson: whatever nerd, get over here already

#sanders sides fic #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #thomas sanders #prinxiety #logicality #analogical #ali writes #its another vlog fic sue me #i wanted to you all can fight me later #the theory of real activity

37 notes · View notes

kosmicdream · 7 years

Note

im at work binging the ffak faq tag because fuck it (also its 76 pages) and I have a Q: do you think you've had any significant changes to ur influences from 2 years ago?

Omg Im so sorry, the ffak faq is in.. a desperate need of organization. Its something i want to try to get to at some point but it also really overwhelms me. Thankfully though I don’t think i’ve gotten this question!

I’d say yes? there has been a couple significant changes in my influences. I’ve been through a lot in the past 2 years and some of my tastes have reflected that. However its probably not a whole lot. I’m the kind of person that is very nostalgically committed to things, so once something has made its way into my heart at some point it pretty much just stays there forever. Even if i don’t really think or care about it that much I’ll reflect on it and what about that work might have influenced me as time goes on. I also dont really take the time to experience new media. If i do, i want to experience all of it at once in a binge reading experience and I can really mess up my schedule in the result of doing that lol.

I’d say the biggest impact has been Vinland Saga which I think I read sometime in.. I think after july in 2017 sometime..? I’m not completely sure of the date, but it was in 2017. I love Vinland Saga so much now that I think its my favorite manga at this point. A place in my heart where I used to reserve for.. Berserk, i think. Berserk used to be (and of course still is) one of my strongest inspirations but my feelings towards it have kind of gotten more and more sour and critical even though I still deeply appreciate it and I wouldnt be the same artist without -- I still want to see the fruition of that story. But. Its not really my sweetheart anymore lol. I think its a common thing to relate berserk and vinland saga as well (or at least, I’ve seen the comparison quite a lot in reviews?) despite how those two stories are actually significantly different from eachother and its probably kind of a cheap comparison to make. (i think berserk is often just Used As A Comparison To Things because Its Berserk. Its just that kind of series.)

BUT the reason why I’m using it here, is that for me-- both these comics affected me very deeply, during very dark times in my life, and unlike in berserk which almost sucked me into a deeper depression of hopelessness-- vinland saga had a resolution of sorts that felt cathartic, healing and hopeful. in a way i have not really experienced in a story before. it was genuinely one of the BEST reading experiences i have ever had and even if that story is still unfinished, the conclusion of an arc was enough for me to feel like i got a satisfaction from this story in a way i didn’t expect to come at ALL or so early. It makes me feel so happy in my heart and I love it so much for what it gave me. (I also was very fond of thorfinn from the beginning of that story, which i usually dont care for protagonists that much, its usually some other character i get attached to.)

I don’t really expect berserk to give me a ‘pay off’ at this point and so I’m kind of thankful that i have found another series that i can connect with in this very specific deep way like i did with berserk, but also kind of gave a sense of closure so that I can almost appreciate berserk more now instead of feeling bitter towards it. I dont need it to do anything more because vinland saga helped give me that already. Vinland Saga also, from a visual standpoint, inspired me a lot to work more on my art and pages. (or specifically, spend more time on my pages to make them look better.)

I think besides that comic, which is the hands down #1 biggest influence, i also have very recently read Houseki No Kuni/Land of the Lustrous and it also inspired me quite a lot but in totally different ways. I could probably go on and on about it as well but I think to summarize my feelings is that it made me excited about manga again. I want to see more stories like this which are creative, yet simple and flexible and the art perfectly compliments the narrative. It really feels like the artist knows what they want to talk about and they are comfortable drawing in the way they like to.

Other comics I have read recently and its completion are: FMA, Eden: its an endless world!FMA was very solid and I feel it completely deserves the attention it gets but i also don’t feel like I really need to think about it anymore now that I’m done reading it??? I guess its almost too polished for me? I still am thankful i finally decided to read it and I enjoyed it a lot. Alphonse is wonderful. Eden made me annoyed for... a lot of reasons LOL but I also really think its going to be a comic that ill dissect my emotions over and think about in detail. and i can really appreciate when a story might not really be my think but was different and still interesting enough to make me fuss over. Also for whatever reason the scans i read of that comic had hilarious, and i think purposefully so, sound effects and i have not laughed so hard at such inappropriate moments in a manga ever before and I think that makes that reading experience so special to me. in such a strange way. and i absolutely want to use sound effects like in that comic.. thing

I think in the past 2 years i also finished rereading Parasyte (because i never got to the ending when i first started reading it) and i also kind of feel kind of a mixed bag with that story. The premise was so exciting when i first read it years ago, i think in 2010 is when i first read it, but i ran out of volumes and never got back to it. Now that i finished it I was like oh that was it? ok i guess. and I dont really feel like i was as excited about it.I also read Devilman in the past 2 years and that was interesting? to reflect on from like, a historical significance point of view but like. I didn’t super duper get into it. It almost felt like a needed reading requirement that i had put off for way too long and Now i feel like I have a better context to the evolution of many of my favorite comics and where they draw influence from in this series. (Also it was very fun to watch the yuasa adaptation recently bc yuasa is one of my biggest art influences for his kemonozume series specifically)

Hmm I’m trying to think of anything else, but honestly Vinland Saga feels are still pouring thru so I guess... vinland saga lol.

Oh! I finally read Pluto by Naoki Urasawa in the past couple years (i think) and, like, i already love Urasawa (Monster is hands down one of my favorite comics/animes), i love tezuka (i will literally read anything he made), i knew id adore Pluto and.. i did! I think one of my new projects (replacer) was definitely influenced by pluto in a huge way.

A couple weeks ago i read Witch Hat Atelier and it was gorgeous, but short so far.

Ok I can’t really think of anything else but I hope this has been interesting/informative of what is circling around in my head at the moment! :D thanks for asking.

#ffak faq #ffak #feast for a king #vinland saga #i just love thorfinn #smugplankton

11 notes · View notes