#why seeing him perform live whether in person or on the screen feels sort of surreal and mystical | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dancingamongstdust · 3 years ago

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Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 1)

Ben Drowned

You had promised, sworn on your very life, that you wouldn’t laugh. It was an oath. One to be taken very seriously.

“Using your hand to muffle the sound still counts as laughing.”

Part of you felt really bad but that made you snicker even harder. Your best friend, at the very least, did appear extremely shaken about the entire thing. She sat on the edge of the couch with her arms crossed. Dark bags had formed beneath her eyes and her attention seemed unable to stray from the Nintendo 64 that sat between you.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “But you have to understand how this sounds. You’re telling me that you’re being haunted by a literal video game.”

She pulled her legs to her chest. The amount of weight that she had lost recently couldn’t possibly be healthy. “I knew you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Have you considered talking to a psychiatrist?” you offered. “Or perhaps selling this game?”

“He would kill me.”

You picked up the Nintendo 64 and stared at the main menu of the game. It looked pretty normal to you. You fiddled around with the settings to turn the music down. “I really think that talking to somebody about this would help.”

“That’s what you don’t understand,” she said. “I want to stop playing. I want to speak to people but all that he wants is for me to continue trying to beat the game. There’s no way to win! The entire thing is rigged!”

“Have you looked up a guide?”

She groaned. “Nobody’s going to listen to me.”

An awkward silence fell over the room and you shifted around in your seat before offering some coffee. She accepted but the kettle had barely been boiling for a few seconds when her phone chimed happily.

“Oh look, he wants to play now,” she muttered. She thrust the device to you. “Take a look for yourself.”

The notification had come through an app called CleverBot. It was a very simple ‘hi’ message that didn’t really seem all too haunting. You opened it up and clicked around the app for a little. “Looks like just a chatroom,” you said. “Why’d you download this?”

“I didn’t. I just woke up the one day and it was on my phone.”

You closed the app and returned to the home screen. It immediately reopened and the same message popped up again. An identical thing happened the second time. And then again.

“This looks like a virus,” you said. “It’s probably best to uninstall.”

Clicking on the button made the icon disappear for a short while but it was quick to reappear. This time, when the chatroom opened itself, the message had changed to simply say ‘rude’.

You pursed your lips. That was suspicious enough for you to understand her potential worries. “I don’t think that it’s haunted but you should probably take it to a professional to have it wiped or something. And maybe consider less porn in the future?”

Your joke fell flat but it died when the chatbot began typing. Not too long after, another message had come through.

‘I don’t hang out in such places.’

“Can…” you trailed off. “No, there’s no way that they’ve hacked the microphone, right?”

‘Don’t need to hack in to hear what you’re saying.’

The colour drained from your face and you quickly glanced towards your friend. She didn’t seem panicked, even when you showed her the message. If anything, her expression was resigned as though this was a regular occurrence.

You didn’t get too much time to respond when a horrible static sound came through her phone. The screen began flashing and blurry images raced across it. A distorted version of the Majora’s Mask theme song started playing. It felt like your ears were bleeding. Scared, you threw the phone to the floor and, with a shattering crack, everything stopped.

For a while, you stared at it but then she said, “He’s going to be pissed with that.”

There was a chime from somewhere on your right. Your own phone’s screen lit up. Nervously, you reached over to check on it.

A single notification stood there, from an app called CleverBot.

‘You Shouldn’t Have Done That.”

Bloody Painter

The park was busy this time of day and filled with an awaiting audience – whether they were interested in watching the performance or not. Many seemed to appreciate it though, taking the flyers handed out by your group.

It was nearing midday when you ran out of pamphlets. You stretched and pushed your hair away from your face, relishing in the feeling of sun against skin.

Your gaze drifted across the park’s patrons before settling on one that you had been watching since the beginning of your performance. He didn’t look up much. A sketchpad sat on his lap and tousled brown hair hung over his face. You hadn’t caught his attention once but he had certainly kept yours.

“Can you hand me another lot of flyers?” you asked one of the other girls with her.

She handed them over and you put on your best grin before making your way to the tree he was sitting under.

He looked up when your shadow fell over his sketchbook. His work was considerably abstract and nothing that you could identify with ease. There weren’t too many colors though.

“Hello!” you greeted cheerily. “I don’t mean to bother but what did you think of the show?”

He blinked up at you. “I didn’t see it.”

The man was a master of deadpan but you didn’t allow your smile to drop. You lowered the flyer and sighed, “That’s a shame. It’s so rare that we have attractive people at our shows… you should consider coming to our actual performances sometime. Everybody loves musicals.”

He didn’t even react to the compliment. No smirk or even a blush. It was as though you hadn’t spoken one word.

“I’ve seen your face before,” he said. “You do this kind of thing quite often. Don’t you get tired of people staring at you?”

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t be in this line of business if I was too self-conscious. When they stare for too long, I like to imagine that it’s because I’m the most beautiful person they’ve ever seen.” Running your fingers through your hair, you offered him your most dazzling smile. “And if you remember me, that’s a certain compliment.”

“You can take it whatever way you want but it doesn’t mean anything.”

It was tempting to give up. Flirting with cute boys was only entertaining when they responded with… something. This boy just stared.

“So you’re an artist, right? You’d have a good point of view on whether or not I’m actually pretty.”

“My opinions on people are rarely accurate.”

His response made you uncomfortable, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on why. Something of a warning twisted in your stomach. A light had lit behind his eyes but it didn’t seem like something you wanted to tie yourself to.

It appeared it was time to give up your pursuit. “Well, I really should get going. Perhaps I’ll see you at the next performance.”

His eyes drifted to the pamphlet that you held. “Were you planning on giving me that?”

“Offering it but you don’t have to –“

“I’ll take it,” he said, putting down his pencil and holding out his hand. “Your show wasn’t too entertaining but I enjoyed watching the performance you just put on. Rather like a peacock strutting its feathers.”

So he wasn’t oblivious then… just teasing. You had no idea if it showed his genuine interest or if he was merely taunting now.

With a slight scowl, you passed it over. He tucked it into his sketchbook and then closed it, standing up. He was scrawnier than you had anticipated but he still had a considerable height – holding at least a few inches over you.

“Thank you,” you said.

He left without another word. You rolled your eyes and made a point to ignore any thoughts about him for the rest of the day. Perhaps you shouldn’t have given him your information… after all, that flyer had your full name and everything.

And you knew absolutely nothing about him.

Candy Pop

Hospitals were the worst places in the world.

They smelled too clean and looked too false. You generally avoided them as much as possible unless it was absolutely necessary. When a close family member found themselves locked within the walls, unfortunately, it wasn’t possible to stay away.

You wrinkled your nose as you walked into the room. The sterilized smell burnt you.

Most of it was what you had expected but the young, child-like scream made you jump and nearly drop every gift you were holding.

Your aunt jumped up from her chair beside the hospital bed. “What’s wrong?!” she asked, fussing over your cousin.

She was barely over eleven and had badly injured her leg during a biking competition. Your mom had told you that everybody in the family was going to visit her, encouraging you to go together in order to drop off some gifts.

“I’m sorry,” the little girl said quickly. “I don’t like balloons and I thought… it doesn’t matter. Sorry.”

You moved them behind you a little, trying to block her line of sight. “No, no, I should have asked first. You could have been allergic to latex or something and then I’d be feeling really bad about it.”

“She’s been particularly on edge thanks to these awful nightmares,” your aunt explained.

“Nightmares?” you asked.

The little girl seemed pale at its mention, pulling her blanket up to her nose and watching everybody wearily. “They’re just bad dreams,” she said. “You said that they couldn’t hurt me.”

Her mother hurriedly rubbed her shoulder and offered a warm smile. “They definitely can’t,” she reassured.

“Are they about the fall?” you asked.

“Sometimes.”

You settled down in one of the chairs as your own mother began speaking to her sister. They were able to discuss everything from the colour of grass to what they thought would be the best country to live in. You weren’t particularly interested in what they were saying and, after a while of trying to chirp in, you just let the lack of sleep catch up to you.

Your dreams came to you quickly, faster than usual and sharp in an uncomfortable sort of way.

You found yourself standing in a large field. The sky was grey and the grass tall enough to reach your knees. Everything felt bright. It hurt your eyes to stare at anything for too long.

Normally, dreams didn’t feel as such, but you were certain that this was one. There was no purpose to where you were. No inclination to walk in a specific direction or try to understand what was happening.

Just confusion.

You took a step forward and a soft wind wrapped around you. It brushed through the grass, dancing around the trees. Something was watching.

You turned and two, glowing lights floated above the ground.

Slowly, mist gathered around the two spots. As you stepped back, it began to solidify – quickly forming a more recognisable shape. The figure tilted its head to the side and a slight jingling sound filled the air. It stepped forward then and the glow faded from its eyes, revealing just what stood before you.

He was a jester, though certainly more modern than the old king’s versions. Blue hair hung around his shoulders and his entire outfit jingled with hundreds of bells. A smile graced his face and he stepped forward.

You moved away.

His smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed. The mist appeared again and he vanished into it.

You looked around frantically. He was gone. The wind picked up unexpectedly, howling in your ears. You raised your hands to shield your face and something grabbed your wrist. Before you could turn to see, you hurdled away from the meadow and awoke spluttering for air.

“Are you alright?” your aunt asked.

In the corner of your eye, you swore you saw a blue jester but, when you turned to look, he was gone. “Yeah,” you said, rubbing your chest. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Your made eye contact with your cousin and swallowed thickly. The look on her face said it all.

Clockwork

Every night, without fail, you saw her sitting there when you arrived home from work.

She always wore the same thing and, initially, you had thought that she would play on her phone for hours at a time. It didn’t appear that she had a phone, however, as you came to realise. Whatever she was holding was circular and fit perfectly within the palm of her hand.

You mentioned it to the building manager the second time she was there until like two in the morning. He had said that they thought she was homeless but, as far as they could tell, she wasn’t dangerous. You reassured him that your worries weren’t about her presence due to any perceived problem but he had just nodded.

She never moved while she was waiting. Not even to adjust her weight or brush the hair from her face.

A few of your neighbours used the very eloquent reasoning that she was merely crazy.

Occasionally, you heard children from the area parroting their parents. Rumours abound that she was a ghost who would attack anybody if they spoke to her. You scoffed each time it was said but many believed the stories.

You were arriving home late one night when you spotted her sitting in the usual spot. It was strange for you to feel anything beyond exhaustion on the nights when hospital jobs ran too long but this time, a strange anticipation settled itself in your stomach.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “Are you okay?”

Her hair was dirty and her coat looked as though it hadn’t been washed for years. Now that you were close, you could make out what appeared to be dried blood on her shirt.

“Go away,” she said, shaking her head from side to side.

“I have medical experience,” you responded. “And I know some good places to stay in the area. I can –“

“Good for you,” she sneered. “Leave me alone. You’re going to make me miss it.”

The object she was holding was an old pocket watch. It looked like something you would find in an antique store and pay insane amounts of money for. Though, it didn’t appear to be working. The clock hands sat at a set time and didn’t move in the slightest.

“I want to help you if that’s okay,” you said.

She forced out a laugh that sounded as though it physically pained her. “You want to help me?!” she cackled, throwing her hair over her shoulder. “Isn’t that sweet.”

You stumbled away from her and clasped a hand over your mouth. Her face…

Her mouth was torn to pieces, jagged cuts that ripped through the skin there and had been crudely stitched back together. But that wasn’t the worst. No, the worst part of it was her left eye that had a pocket watch shoved into the socket and forcefully stitched there. The injury flared red with infection and pain.

“What’s wrong little doctor?!” she cawed. “No longer feeling like saving the poor girl you found on the side of the road?”

You steeled your resolve and straightened. “I’m still willing to offer help if you need it,” you said in your strongest voice. “That injury is severe and needs attending to if you want to save the eye.”

The eye was definitely gone and she knew it as well, scoffing at your offer. “No chance of that. Why do you people like pretending that you care?”

“I do care.”

She responded with a mocking expression and stood unexpectedly. “Sure you do.” She tapped the front of the pocket watch with her nail. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to get to work. I nearly missed it thanks to your nagging. I’ll see you tomorrow, doctor.”

And she marched off into the night.

Dark Link

The vase that you were holding was beautifully polished and almost brand new. As you lifted it, something rattled around within.

“Why are you selling this for such a low price?” you asked.

The woman was middle-aged with a falsely high voice and bright, darting eyes. “It was a gift,” she said. “But I decided against keeping it. I wasn’t sure how low the price should be but it’s not like I’m losing any money.”

You decided against buying it, thanking her and walking away quickly. While you were looking through a few pieces of jewelry, your arm was grabbed and a small object pushed into your chest.

“Here you go!” you friend chimed. “Consider it to be a late birthday present!”

You took the game cartridge and examined it closely. “Zelda, again?” you asked. “I’ve already tell you that –“

“Yes, yes, I know that they’re not your thing but if you haven’t tried all the games then how are you meant to know there isn’t just one that you like?”

Sighing, you took the game and dropped it into your purse. It was dirty and definitely well used. A bit of black paint flaked off on your fingers.

Another game for you to keep in your cupboard and not look at again until months later when you were asked about your opinion on it. It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t have the console you needed and the simple answer of ‘just buy one for cheap’ wasn’t always available.

But in the coming weeks, you quickly realised that this wasn’t just another game.

At first, the things that went wrong were too minor to even pay attention to. Electronics started breaking frequently until the point where you had replaced your stereo twice in a week and no longer had a television. After that, you started feeling sickly and uncomfortable whenever you were in the house. A feeling of imposing nature settled upon your shoulders.

You spent more time away from home, staying away for as long as you could. When you tried to dogsit for your brother, the pup wouldn’t even enter the house.

It was late at night when you woke up in a cold sweat. Nausea coiled in your stomach and your heart was beating at the speed of light.

At first, you had no idea what had woken you.

And then you heard the rattling.

It was coming from the next room over. As though somebody had taken hold of your desk and was shaking it as roughly as they could.

You scrambled for your phone but it wasn’t there. It was sitting in your office.

You took a deep breath and slowly stepped from your bed. Your head felt fuzzy, as though you weren’t able to wake up properly. Every step was slow and lethargic.

Stumbling toward the door, you gingerly grabbed the handle. As you opened it, your mind caught up with your body and you remembered that you shouldn’t just burst in on a potential invader.

But it was too late.

The person, for it had to be a person, stood in the middle of the room. Its body was so dark that it blended in with the shadows surrounding it. Two bright red eyes shone, illuminating enough that it showed some of the creatures ashen features. It had sharp features that were definitely human. Though as you stared at it, you knew that it was anything but.

It smiled and began turning into small squares, pixelating into the air and disappearing into something behind it.

You flicked on the light as fast as you could but it was gone. Sitting in the middle of the desk, the black cartridge seemed to emit its own darkness.

Dr. Smiley

The building was beyond restoration, crumbling and derelict. You were sure that it hadn’t been occupied for at least a decade. Perhaps even longer.

For months now, you had been going through the motions to have everything approved and organised. You had gotten clearance, hired the workers, discussed things with any neighbours, and even paid extra for the best machinery to get everything done quicker.

And now they were refusing to do anything.

“I’m sorry, and I will compensate for the time wasted, but my men are saying no,” the on-site manager said. “I know you’re not from these parts but we’ve always known there’s something wrong with this building. Rumours and superstitions abound and I wouldn’t blame my men for not wanting to anger a ghost.”

“They’ll be pissing off something far worse than a ‘ghost’ if they continue refusing to even go in there,” you snapped.

He glanced towards his workers and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Once he left, you turned your attention to the house. Why anybody would have wanted a house in this location was beyond you but now that you had inherited it, you could see potential.

Although the entire place was probably crawling with all manners of disgusting flora.

Perhaps you could use that to get the health counsel to do the job for you.

They will still talking and you could see the weariness on their faces. Sighing, you stalked your way to the front door and pushed it open with one hand. It creaked with the effort.

You stood with your hands out towards the men. “I’m going to walk this entire house!” you called. “And if your ghost doesn’t accost me while I’m there, then I’m going to be expecting you to all get on with it, alright?”

Nothing immediately jumped at you when you entered. The door struggled to open and it swung shut on its own accord. If that was the haunting that they were talking about…

A roach skittered along the floor in front of you, darting under a derelict sofa stained with an unknown substance. Several of the windows had been broken so it wasn’t surprising to find that graffiti and markers had been used to etch various names into the walls.

You walked through a destroyed kitchen, passed a bedroom with a smashed crib, and even kicked open a door that led to a filthy storage room.

No ghost jumped out at you.

Problems started presenting themselves when you walked down one of the hallways and pushed open a bedroom door. The entire room felt set apart from the rest of the place with almost-new curtains that had been drawn shut. Blankets covered the bed, dirty but still there. You immediately thought somebody may be squatting there but your concerns changed when you noticed the wall.

Black mold. It crawled its way up the side, covering most of what had once been white wallpaper. You brought one hand up to shield your mouth and stepped out, slamming the door closed.

If there was an infestation then you had to get the health department immediately. This was –

Your thoughts were interrupted by something grabbing you. Panic filled your mind as a sharp weapon was pressed against your throat.

“Well now, I just know that you don’t have an appointment,” a voice said close to your ear. “I don’t like trespassers.”

Thinking on instinct, you threw your head backwards as hard as you could. There was a satisfying impact followed by a loud yelp of pain. The weapon around your throat moved away so you kicked the guy in the shin and bolted for it.

The house felt bigger while you were running but nobody came after you. You didn’t hear any footsteps or other sounds of a chase.

Bursting through the front door, you winced at the bright light. The house hadn’t seemed nearly that dark until compared to the outside.

You collided with one of the workers in your rush and nearly knocked everybody to the ground.

“What’s happened?”

“It was that ghost, I’m telling you.”

“We warned her, boss.”

You cleared your throat and straightened up, making eye contact with each man individually. “There is no ghost,” you said. “Only a squatter who I shall deal with using police force if needed. However, I do believe any construction will have to wait because I saw an excessive spread of black mold within the house.”

They all spoke amongst themselves, discussing options. You glanced back to the house and allowed your attention to find its way to the bedroom window. Though fleeting, a masked face peered out at you from within.

Eyeless Jack

In many ways, what happened that night was your boss’ fault.

Having just finished working a double shift that ended at almost 1 in the morning, you were exhausted upon returning home. You walked past the neighbouring apartment with only one thought on your mind – sleep.

It was then that you heard a thump coming from within the house, followed shortly by a muffled scream.

Tired, you had to pause to register what was happening and, by the time your brain caught up, your heart was in full-on panic mode. You slowly reached into your pocket and dialed the emergency number as slowly as you dared, whispering into the phone and being reassured that a police presence would be arriving shortly.

Your neighbour was a young man though, just out of rehab and beginning to make his way through life. The longer you stood and waited for the police, the guiltier you felt.

So you reached into the pot plant and pulled out his spare key. After a short while of building yourself up, you unlocked the door and crept inside.

It was dark with the outside world shrouded via heavy curtains. You could barely make your way through the unfamiliar apartment and you didn’t dare turn on the light. Damn, you were extremely tired.

Part of your brain suggested that you had imagined the whole thing. It was a byproduct of a sleep-addled mind or something. That would be embarrassing to explain to the police and to your neighbour. Would you get charged for breaking and entering or could you blame it on your tiredness?

Your doubts didn’t get much further than that because somebody grabbed you from within the room.

A horrible iron-filled scent attacked your senses as you took in the bedroom. It looked like your neighbour was tied to the bed though he wasn’t moving. Somebody stood behind you, their breathing heavy and their grip strong.

They pushed your wrist closer to your back, preventing you from wriggling free of their grip. A blade, small and yet sharp, pressed against the side of your throat.

“Trying to play the hero, are we?” snarled a voice. “Have you called the cops?”

The blade pressed against your skin and you quickly spat out a yes.

“Probably right before you came in, if not earlier… I’d have enough time to kill you but then you’d be an absolute waste. Nowhere to stash a body around here and they’d comb the entire area if you were missing…”

“I didn’t mean –“

You were shoved forward before you had a chance to react. In the dark, you couldn’t make anything out and you hit the wall unexpectedly. Now, far enough away, you turned and tried to make out the face of your assailant. He melded in with the shadows and you ran your fingers along the wall until you found a light switch.

The lights flickered on and you gasped.

He wore a dark blue mask, a black ooze dripping from the eye sockets and onto his hoodie. There was no reaction to the lights. Not even a blink.

“Don’t you want to beg for your life?” he asked. “The other one pleaded nearly constantly until I shut him up.”

“You killed him…”

“He isn’t dead, just unconscious,” the man scoffed. “I try to avoid killing them, if I’m able to.”

“The police will be here soon,” you warned.

“Oh I know. That’s the only reason that I’m leaving this very minute.” He made his way over to the window, never turning to stop facing you. The bedroom window slipped open without a sound and he began climbing out. “I’d keep my doors locked if I was you. Plenty of unsavory characters live in these parts.”

And just like that, he was gone.

Glitchy Red

Your younger cousin squealed excitedly, holding the game to her chest in joy. “I love it so much!” she said. “I can’t believe I used to think Pokémon was for babies. At first when the music randomly cut out, I did think it was super weird but I’ve gotten used to it now.”

“I don’t think it’s meant to do that,” you chuckled. “But cheap versions, you know?”

It was good to see that your last-minute gift hadn’t gone to waste. You had been worried that the present’s fun would be lost on your video game-hating cousin but she had actually decided to give the game a shot. Now you had somebody in the family to speak to which was extraordinarily exciting.

“What are you meant to say to Red when he asks you whether or not he’s a joke?” she aske unexpectedly. “I know that if you say no, he goes away, and I’ve been too scared to try the other option.”

You frowned. “I don’t actually remember that part of the game.”

“Really? But it happens so often.”

When she realised that you really hadn’t encountered anything like that in the game before, she told you to wait a minute and came back with her game.

“There was one around here,” she said, loading in. “Just give me a second and I’ll find it.”

You stayed much later than you had originally intended to that night. The two of you played through a lot of the game, waiting for the moment when Red would break the fourth wall and demand to know about your opinions on him.

It never came.

The game ran incredibly smoothly. It was quite odd. There weren’t any hiccups along the way nor horror-style glitches. The music didn’t even cut off which was apparently rare accourding to your cousin.

After a while, she sighed and handed it to you. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why it’s not breaking. I’ll go make us some food.”

You continued playing while she was gone, enjoying the memories that came with the game. It was as fun as you remembered until about five minutes after she left. The music just shut off unexpectedly and, no matter what you did, it refused to come back at all. Any other sound effects worked fine though.

“So you’re just programed to break when only one person’s in the room?” you joked.

Perhaps that was a bad choice.

Unexpectedly, a loud static erupted from the console, so ear-aching that it felt like your ears began to bleed. The game took on a horrible red tint and Red appeared on the screen, a dialogue box appearing beneath his blackened form.

AM I A JOKE TO YOU?

Horrified, you immediately shut down the game and threw the cartridge as far away from you as possible. You raced at full speed into the kitchen, nearly knocking several things over along the way.

“You have got to throw that game,” you wheezed.

“What? Why?” she asked.

“There is something really fucked up with that game…” you said. “That thing with Red is absolutely not meant to happen. It felt like he was staring into my soul. You have to throw it out the moment you can. I will buy you another one but do not keep that.”

“Oh, alright,” she said, seemingly confused but nowhere as shaken as you were.

A faint static came from the living room, sending shivers down your spine.

Hobo Heart

Tears flowed down your face despite your best attempts to remain composed. “I’ve known for a while now,” you managed to say.

Your ex-boyfriend seemed shocked, though not entirely upset about your admission. “How long –“

“Since last week,” you said. “Though I’ve heard it’s been going on for considerably longer.”

He shifted his weight and took a deep breath. You recognised this behavior from the past, already hearing the words you knew were coming. The apologies and the false regret, the promises about not doing it again, and then the eventual guilt-tripping. If you heard the latter, you weren’t sure your resolve would hold.

“Goodbye,” you said firmly.

“Wait!”

You ignored the calls, making your way home at a steady place. A few people offered you concerned looks so you rubbed away the tears and took a few deep breaths.

Several months of your life had been completely wasted. You had put so much time and energy into a person who didn’t care one ounce about you.

Just great.

You turned onto your street and made your way to the house across from your own. The woman who lived there was always busy and she only came home to feed her dog before disappearing again. Thankfully, she trusted you to spend time with Bruno.

Bruno came racing over to the gate and jumped up for head scratches. He was a beautiful Afghan Hound with a dark coat and bright eyes.

“At least I know that you’ll always be by my side,” you said, running his fingers through the dog’s fur.

A tear slipped out and you quickly rubbed it away. You dug around in your bag and took out a couple treats, offering him.

A second bark brought your attention to the street.

Standing there, a small white dog with a scruffy coat stared up at you. It looked friendly enough and, after cautiously checking it out, you crouched down and gave it a treat.

“Hello,” you cooed. You gave the pup a few scratches and smiled. “How are you doing, hm? No collar? But you must have an owner because your coat is all groomed and soft. Did you get out or slip your leash?”

You looked around the streets to see if anybody. Nobody jumped out so you gave the dog another treat and brought it into the garden with Bruno to protect it from cars.

The two barked and played with little issue and you messages friends and family about the events of the day.

It was about half an hour later when the air was starting to get chilly. You stood and the small scruffy dog began barking excitedly. Its tail whipped through the air and it jumped up against the fence. A man wearing a white hoodie was standing down the street. You glanced at the dog, scooped it up and made your way to where he was.

“Excuse me,” you said. “I think that I found your dog.”

He turned to look at you and you startled slightly at his rather unusual face paint. A white skull was painted onto his face, similar to something you would see at a college convention.

He glanced down at the happy dog and sighed. “So that’s where he got to.”

“I’m sorry if you were looking for him. I took him off the street to protect him from any cars or anything.”

“It’s fine. He always shows up eventually,” the guy said. “You can just put him down. He’ll follow me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

Then he turned and started walking away. You hurriedly put the dog down and it immediately bounded after him, falling into step directly beside him. They disappeared around a corner and you returned to your own house.

The day had gotten much warmer suddenly.

#creepypasta #scenarios #ben drowned x y/n #bloody painter #clockwork #dr smiley #eyeless jack x reader #hobo heart #dark link

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theboyzuniverse · 4 years ago

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Jealous?

Request: Your smuts are great. Can I request a Jacob one? That boy is soft yet so sexy.

Content: Jealous sex, a little rough but not really.

You excitedly waited in anticipation as your best friend Kevin starts singing his part. You missed him so much as he had gone home to Canada for a month, and you barely had time to even text each other during his vacation. Kevin's voice really was beautiful. Of course your boyfriend Jacob would always be your favorite singer, but Kevin's own voice came a close second.

Kevin makes eye-contact with you as he sings, and you smile back cheering them on. The next thing you know you're locking eyes with Jacob who looks sinfully hot as he danced. You loved the duality of his persona on stage and the way he was actually the softest person you know as he got off the stage. Your heart skips a beat as he smirks, you were all for sexy on stage Jacob.

"So how was it?" Kevin asks you excitedly as you meet them backstage.

"Amazing, as usual." You smile and give him a hug.

"We have a lot to catch up on," He tells you as you nod excitedly. "But right now I'm exhausted so I'll actually see you later."

Kevin gives you another hug as he's about to leave.

"Okay okay, can I finally get a hug from my girlfriend?"

Jacob walks towards you with the softest smile that was enough to melt away any evil in the world.

"You were perfect!" you tell him before he can ask you about the performance and he just laughs.

"I gotta get changed and meet some people, do you mind waiting at home? I'll come home, clean up, and we can go out for dinner or something."

"Or we can order in."

He smiles again and gives you a peck. Jacob knows you love going out, and even if he loves staying in he always goes out of his way to do the things you love. This time you wanted to do what he wanted, which is stay home and cuddle, because this man actually spoils you way too much. Of course he never expects anything back as long as you were happy, but you can't help wanting to take the things he liked to do in consideration. Dating someone so opposite to you wasn't always easy, but compromising to what the other liked to do helped you get closer and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Yes, we can absolutely do that, I'll see you at home."

So you go back to the apartment where Hyunjae and Juyeon also live. The boys now lived in separate apartments shared with their respective roommates they had while they lived in a dorm. You hoped a little that the other boys wouldn't stay home so that you and Jacob could have some alone-time together. Your phone rings as soon as you settle down on the sofa.

"Y/N!"

Kevin waves at you through the screen with a face mask on, and you laugh at him.

"Can't fall asleep again?" You ask him.

"You know it," He replies, and starts playing a Beyonce music in the background. Kevin and his never-ending love for all things Beyonce.

"So how was the family?"

"First thing, it wasn't as crazy as I expected it to be..."

He starts going on a rant about the clash between families. His older sister had gotten married, causing some of their family to fly over from Korea to Canada. A lot of people coming together had caused a lot of drama.

"...but the important thing was like, I did get to sing for her and choose the song though there was a lot of protest. I went crazy at the after-party, that was fun."

"Oh gosh... You didn't."

"Oh yes I did, Kevin went wild baby!"

Then he got up and started twerking like the mess he is, making you laugh and wheeze when a very confused Eric saw him. You started to calm down when Jacob arrived home, he looked a little tired.

"Hey Kev," He said emotionlessly to the screen. "I'll go clean up, I'll be right back."

Jacob gives you a peck and goes to clean up.

"He must be really tired," Kevin commented. "I'll leave you guys alone now, call you later?"

"Yeah yeah,"

"Love you," Kevin pouts his lips. Sometimes you wonder why you're even friends.

"Love you too, Kev."

You hang up and go to Jacob's room, he was still in the shower. The room was dark except for some fairy lights you got for him. It was pretty and calming, and the warm yellow light had reminded you of Jacob's warmth, that was why you had bought it for him. You freeze in your spot when you see Jacob coming out from the bathroom, with just a towel wrapped around his waist, making you feel all sorts of things. This man's duality constantly keeps you on your feet. He immediately notices you staring and starts moving towards you.

"So you're finally done talking to him?"

You're flustered and nervous at his words, and the close proximity of where he was standing. He sounded jealous but you were confused, it wasn't like Jacob to be jealous.

"Y-yeah," You finally replied after a short pause.

He leans in for a kiss but instead of being soft and pulling you in by the waist as he usually did, he corners you and pins you to the wall. The kiss was already deep and rough as soon as he started, no usual build up.

Jacob pulled away so you both could catch your breath he looked at you straight in the eyes. His stare sent a chill down your spine, it scared you a little yet it was thrilling and exciting. It was a side of him you had never seen before.

"Do you do this on purpose?" He asked, slightly clenching.

You knew exactly what he was talking about but you couldn't help yourself.

"Do what?"

"Always try to make me f***ing jealous."

You were shocked at him actually cussing.

"I-"

He cuts you off with another kiss.

"You know, exactly, what you're doing," He says between kisses, and starts getting rougher.

Jacob removes his lips from yours only to attach them to your neck again. Extending your neck to give him more access came way too naturally for you, and before you knew it he snaked an arm around your waist and one reached into your shirt. While leaving a few more hickeys on your neck, he squeezes your nipples a little and with the sudden sensation you let out a little moan which makes him smirk.

"I'm gonna have to teach you that I'm the only one who can make you feel this way,"

His tone is different, his eyes look different. The man you were looking at had little traces of the soft Jacob that you knew, and for some reason it was turning you on. He looked hot as hell, and you found yourself feeling a little nervous. It wasn't like you haven't had sex with him before, but this side of Jacob was new. He looked incredibly sexy, and you actually liked it.

"Already very wet for me I see,"

Jacob lays you down on the bed as he reaches inside your skirt and palms you over your panties making you squirm a little. Then he takes out his hands making you frown, disappointed because it had felt good.

"Don't squirm," He commands you.

"Yes,"

"Yes?"

"Yes, Jacob."

He removes your shirt, and you remove your bra as he works on your skirt. Then before you can brace yourself he inserts a finger inside you making you gasp. He slowly pumps his hand and goes faster as you start bucking your hips to match his pace. You were so turned on you felt like you would come easily, and he knew it. You thought he would stop before you orgasmed but he doesn't stop even as you start clenching around him and reach your orgasm.

"Good girl," He kisses your lips again, "But we're not done."

You stare at him, it was the first time you two were going immediately for seconds. Then you realize he hasn't even removed his towel yet, and you gasp a little when he does, he was so hard. He positions himself at your entrance and thrusts into you, not giving you time to really adjust. It hurts the first two times mostly because you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, but you start feeling really good again.

Jacob clasps his hands with yours pushing them into the sheets as his thrusts become faster. You try to meet his thrusts but every time he hits your sweet spot you melt into the pleasure he was giving you, it sent you into a kind of bliss that only he alone could make you feel. He kisses you and immediately stops when you start clenching around him again. You whine in protest when he pulls out.

"Turn around," He commands.

You comply, immediately wanting more as soon as possible. He immediately slides into you again with no pause, one hand on your hips and one slightly pulling at your hair. You moan again surprised at how good it all felt, you usually wanted to be able to see him at all times when you were having sex.

After a few more thrusts Jacob lets go of your hair and reaches down to rub your clit which sends you into overdrive. You start clenching around him again, this time he doesn't stop and you reach your climax for the second time that night. He keeps at it a few more times as he also reaches his high, and his thrusts become sloppy as you both finish riding out your orgasms. He pulls out and turns you around to kiss you.

"You know I'm the only one who can make you feel this way right?"

"You're the only one who can make me feel this way," You confirm.

He smiles, and your soft Jacob is back. Lying down next to you he pulls you into his arms kissing your forehead.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, but you were kinda hot." He blushes a little at your remark.

Yup, your boyfriend was back.

"Maybe he can show up from time to time."

"Definitely," You agree.

The both of you barely manage to get up and wash up a little before you fall asleep. You were completely tired and worn out.

The next day you wake up to Jacob's kisses on your cheeks and you smile. You think about the night before and become slightly distracted. Seriously? In the morning? You scold yourself. However, Jacob seemed to have the same idea as he rolled on top of you and kissed you, then slightly grinding himself on you. You moan a little as he does so. You don't know whether its because it was morning but you felt like you could almost come immediately as he keeps grinding on to you. The friction of thin clothes that separated you made it feel so good.

"I'm almost there," He half-whispered.

You put your hands on his arms and dig into them.

"Me too," You mumbled back as you both almost immediately reached your high.

You were surprised that this could happen just by grinding on each other.

"We better get up," Jacob tells you. "I smell breakfast."

Neither of you bother to wash up first and head straight to the Kitchen where Hyunjae and Juyeon are eating breakfast. They both stare at you.

"What?" You ask taking a bite of the bacon.

"So first thing in the morning huh?" Juyeon teased as Jacob almost chokes on his cereal.

#jacob bae #bae jacob #tbz smut #tbz jacob #the boyz #the boyz smut #the boyz oneshots #smut #kpop smut #kpop oneshots #tbz #jealous sex

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ryoskuna · 4 years ago

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⭑ shaken, not stirred universe. | introduction.

notes: we’ve heard about bartender!sukuna, so get ready for the others! think of this as those choose-your-own adventure games, where you can choose your own love interest and path. you’re not just limited to sukuna, but you’ve got many more love interests you can choose (or request). this is just a humble introduction to the roles each jjk character fills within the shaken, not stirred universe, and may allude to some of the situations you may encounter on you way. so grab a snack, buckle in, cause it’s going to be one hell of a ride.

depending on how tumblr updates go, this may become a project reserved for AO3, but I’ll do what I can for now, here on tumblr. feel free to ask about any of the characters, and you all know how to find my inbox. additionally, i’m going to try and make this as gender-neutral and reader-neutral as possible, BUT, i’m also slightly biased in making content for black girls because I am one, so we’ll see how this goes. each drabble or fic will be marked for what kind of reader it discusses. also, i’m a sucker for a good oc... so there may be a whole related series with an original character(s). this is just the introduction for the universe so you know who is who.

MAIN ROUTES INCLUDE: sukuna, toji, nanami, megumi, yuji, mei mei, gojo, and geto. i’d be open to include routes for nobara, maki, inumaki, yuta, kamo, todo, momo, and mai (and maybe, choso) (but by default, nobara and maki are together unless requested individually, and mai is with momo (unless you request them individually as well). regardless of route, shoko and utahime are together.) but you would have to request these characters as in send me a message going “for the shaken not stirred universe, i would like a mai x reader, or nobara x reader”.

warnings: they’ll vary by route/character you choose, however, some general warnings is mentions of alcohol, past relationships, drama, angst. there’s some potential for 18+ content, however it will be marked as such (should it occur). oh, and there’s probably some unchecked grammar or spelling errors. there’s also a little bit of manga spoilers due to some characters being introduced.

summary: welcome to malevolent shrine, in the heart of shibuya, and one of the best rated bars on yelp. for all it’s worth ( and that one entryway at the side that you have to go down a set of exterior stairs and through a laundromat to get through that entrance) and despite the name, in its two story glory, it’s a fun place to be. the people who enter or work there are even better. and they’ve all got stories to tell. sit back, grab a drink, and prepare for what may be some of the most interesting events you’ve ever seen.

bonus: sukuna specific playlist ( x ), malevolent shrine playlist ft. sounds from their local acts/musicians ( x ), more to be added later (i am thinking of one called ‘toji’s ipod shuffle’, another called ‘dancing in gojo’s living room’, and one called ‘sitting in the passenger seat of geto’s car’.)

introducing the characters!

bartender!sukuna: new owner of the bar, malevolent shrine. when he gained ownership two years ago, he remodeled the bar and renamed it, as it was about to foreclose until he took managerial control, and the original owner gave him the bar when they retired. has a college degree in art history and art, has a few business management courses under his belt. he’s yuji’s older brother, and he’s very intense. there’s headcanons for him here ( x ). he has a signature drink, named after the bar, called malevolent shrine.

accountant!nanami: think of him as sukuna’s second in command (next to uraume) but he manages the finances of malevolent shrine. also hates work, but sukuna allows him to do what he wants, so he enjoys it slightly more. has a signature drink called 7-to-3.

budding model!nobara: in a professional rivalry with mai, however she is a signed to a modeling agency as well as growing in her instagram presence.

college student!maki: she is in her senior year of college, and is an athlete that does track and field — shot-put and discus and javelin.

benefactor!gojo: an old classmate of sukuna’s, now turned benefactor and donor to malevolent shrine to keep it open. he and sukuna have a so-so relationship (with gojo remembering that sukuna took the job as a way to take care of his younger brother yuji and their grandfather). sukuna did make a drink in his honor called infinite void.

restaurant owner!geto: owns a high-scale restaurant with mei mei. raising two twin girls. he’s mostly a retired pianist, but he helped sign the lease with mei mei for stability’s sake.

benefactor!mei mei: is a rival to gojo, both in terms of owning her restaurant (more like funding it) and buys whatever she likes (whether it’s an item or a person).

culinary student!yuji: works as a “head” of the kitchen at malevolent shrine. he’s sukuna’s younger brother, and sukuna tends to give him free reign on the meals that he makes. but everything he makes is good. when he’s not at school or malevolent shrine, he’s usually hanging out with nobara and megumi.

indie artist!megumi: one of the main and recurring acts at malevolent shrine. plays the guitar and will deny that he ever learned how to play the violin. he’s sort of adopted by gojo, but knows his father toji, and they’re working on reconciling their relationship. he’s roommates with yuji and nobara, and often used as nobara’s photographer.

bouncer!toji: the dilf. he’s boxing buddies with sukuna, as well as a force to be reckoned with at the bar. he’s good at his job and dare someone to pick a fight with him. you won’t win. sukuna made a drink in his honor called playful cloud.

musician!kamo: does a mixture of traditional japanese music and heavy metal, and he’s rivals with megumi. he can play an electric shamisen.

instagram model!mai and makeup artist!momo: sort of girlfriends, sort of FWBs, sort of exes, no one is exactly sure what’s going on there, and no one wants to ask. mai is a popular instagram model, but has yet to be signed to an agency. momo is her makeup artist, as well as a professional one.

part-time waitress!miwa: she works at malevolent shrine, helping as a waitress, and has a baking yt channel that’s growing in popularity and often features her two brothers.

physical trainer!todo: works at the gym sukuna and toji frequently attend. he’s very supportive to old and newcomers alike, and does not tolerate elitists who have been going to the gym for years. he also does the occasional twitch stream of his workouts.

guitarist!yuta: plays the guitar for inumaki. he can play both electric and acoustic, and he’s like a second cousin to gojo, although no one is exactly sure how they’re related.

singer!inumaki: he’s a singer, however, no one has ever seen his face when he performs. he performs as a silhouette behind a screen.

paramedic!shoko and high school teacher!utahime: shoko is a paramedic who attends the bar on her days off, and often drags utahime along. shoko makes sure that geto and gojo get along in public, and makes sure utahime relaxes to some extent.

shoko and sukuna hold each other accountable for not relapsing on their smoking addiction.

promotions and tech support!mechamaru: works at malevolent shrine and helps with the graphic design as well as tech support for the bands and musical acts that come through the bar. watches miwa’s baking channel in his spare time, and will talk to her about her recipes. has a crush on miwa.

notes:

geto and gojo are very complicated exes. no one knows how they broke up or why — just that it happened in front of a kfc —but there’s so many stories about them floating around like they were going to elope and travel the world, but no one knows the exact truth.

gojo raised megumi and tsumiki very briefly for some years while toji was a brief drifter. yes, megumi is aware that toji is his dad.

yuji, nobara, and megumi are roommates.

yuta and inumaki are a musical duo. they come as a set.

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natromanxoff · 3 years ago

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Mercury Roadrunner's Interview about Freddie Mercury with Peter Freestone – Part I

Thanks very much to Mercury Roadrunner (Pavel Strashnyy) for letting me share his amazing interviews! Originally shared here. Check the tag "MR interview with Phoebe" to see the other parts.

Here are the 5 topics of this interview, beginning of each topic is written in bold:

1. Live Aid

2. The Works tour

3. "Mr. Bad Guy" album and recording period

4. "Heaven For Everyone", Freddie's habits about listening to music, opinions on Madonna, Montserrat

5. Swimming and memories about Los Angeles, Ibiza, Japan

Mercury Roadrunner: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. We welcome you to the unofficial Russian Queen fan club special program. You can find our website at www.vk.com/queenrocks. I am knownn as Mercury Roadrunner. This year marks the 50th anniversary of Queen. And I’m very happy to say that this evening we have a very, very special guest here with us, and it is an opera critic, a book lover, biographer and writer, and close friend, confident and personal assistant of Freddie Mercury, Mr Peter Freestone. Hello, Peter. How are you? Peter Freestone: Hi. I am… okay. I’m good, I’m good. What can I say? I’m good. PS: You are good and you are very happy to join the other Queen fans who would be very happy to hear you finally talking. And the first topic is about your personal memories. It’s a historic date but what are your own personal memories of 13th of July, the Live Aid day, what were your feelings in general on that day? PF: For me, I suppose, it was just another show… [laughs] PS: Really? PF: Because I worked for Freddie and he was going to do a show. I didn’t separate that from all the other performers that were going to be there, that made it such an incredible day. And not only in London, when they were also performing in America as well at the same time. When the satellite was showing something from London, then it showed something from Philadelphia, then back to London again. So to say, for me it was… another day. It wasn’t even as though there were such a big show because we’d played stadiums in South America. So, it wasn’t the size of the audience. I suppose, when it really struck me what was happening was when the band went onto stage. And the roar from the crowd was absolutely amazing. Again, it wasn’t so different from normal shows because they’d actually rehearsed for their twenty minutes. You know, there was four days’ rehearsal. So to say, it was normal, it was normal work, it was a short show. But then, thing is, it was in daylight and Freddie could actually see the audience. And from the back of the stage, we could look through holes in the back, you know, the screen in the back. And we could see what the band could see. And… then it sort of struck me that, actually, this is something very special. And then I was really so very, very proud of them. At the end of their set, when, again, the audience reaction was indescribable. What they had done in those twenty minutes, they had picked up the whole audience, shook it around and put them back down again. PS: Indeed. PF: So, yeah, that was what I felt. PS: And do you remember some of Freddie’s jokes, maybe, during the day, the way he interacted with other superstars, like David Bowie or others? PF: The thing is, he [Freddie] was just one person amongst his peers, you know. All of the bands were names, they were bands. And the thing I have found, and this goes all the way – the real professionals are the most normal, approachable people on earth. It’s the wannabes who have the attitude of “Don’t you know who I am?” and who behave like stars, because stars behave like human beings. Real stars, they can be just like the rest of us. There was a time when Freddie just wanted to be on his own, you know, with just his friends, with his group of people. But I mean, there’s a few photographs of him chatting with various people, like Elton John and David Bowie. I remember seeing them with him, and Adam Ant. And, of course, he had friends along; I think Wayne Sleep was there as well. In his life, he [Freddie] needed people around him that made him laugh. And so, he still had that. David Bowie and he had been friends for so long. Elton [and he] had been friends for even longer. So, it was actually a chance for them to sit and catch up rather than, you know, being in front of the world press. They liked to spend time on their own, you know, talking to each other, really talking, not putting on a show. PS: So, I imagine that backstage on that day Freddie felt pretty much joyful and relaxed, right? PF: Yeah, on the day of the show, I never really saw Freddie nervous…

because, the thing is, it was too late by then [to be nervous]. You know, there was no point in being nervous anymore because the show was going to go on whether you were nervous or not. So, why be nervous? Just, you know, get on and do the show, enjoy yourself. PS: And do you remember, where did the idea of Freddie and Roger joining the Band Aid on stage in the final song, “Do They Know It’s Christmas”, came from? Or was it totally a spontaneous idea for them to join the others? PF: I think the idea at that point was that anybody who was around, who would stay on to the end – because don’t forget the show had started in the afternoon, so not everybody was going to be waiting – but then anybody who was left, who wanted to join, could go and join. There was no strict “You must do this, you have to do this, you have to be there”. It’s “If you want to, by all means come and do it.” PS: And we even have a picture of both of you, Freddie and you, on that day when Freddie wears a white shirt for “Is This The World That We Created”, and you stand right next to him and it’s a beautiful picture. PF: And Queen were the only band that actually kept their dressing room. Because all the other bands had to vacate their dressing room half an hour after they’d performed, so that the next band could come and use it. But because Brian and Freddie were performing “Is This The World That We Created” at the end, they got to keep their dressing room from the time they arrived. [laughs] PS: So they spent the rest of the day after the show in their dressing room? PF: Well, in or around their dressing room, yes. PS: They, like, had their Royal Queen place there. PF: That’s it. Anybody else had to go into the Hard Rock Café. There had to be a tent, you know, hospitality tent there. And most people ended up in there because they were not allowed into their dressing rooms, they didn’t have dressing rooms after that. So… that also helped Freddie relax. [laughs] PS: Like, his little bit of his own, right? PF: Yes. PS: All right. So, the second topic is about you, Peter. And you are credited as a “band party” member on The Works tour. Can you please clarify what a band party meaning is? Because I am assuming it’s like an entourage but it will be nice to hear the expanded definition from you. PF: Yeah, the band party, I think, was about ten or twelve people. It was the band members, their assistants – me, Chris Taylor was there, and Paul Prenter was there. If Jim Beach was on the tour at the time, he would have been part of the band party too. And some of the time Gerry Stickells was there. But often he would be ahead, making sure that everything was ready for when the band arrived. But that was it. There was about ten people. And there were baggage tags for each member of the band party. That’s why I know because I had Number 9, I think. And there were about twelve, I think, altogether, because at one point at the beginning I used to have to collect the band party baggage, so that’s why I always knew which were, even though I wouldn’t know whose bag was what. It would have one of these crew tags on it, so I just picked up and I knew that there were going to be twenty bags, so I just picked the twenty bags. But they were easy to identify because of these tags. PS: I see. And what is your own favourite memory about The Works tour and about this time, like, 1984, 1985? Maybe the Rio shows? PF: Yeah, I mean Rio was… amazing. The feeling from that crowd… you know, something like 350,000 people. Oh, you can’t beat that. And when you’re flying in a helicopter over that crowd, it was stunning. But the thing is, I know this sounds really, really stupid but [laughs]… one thing I will always, always remember from that tour was, remember, in the back of the stage you had these wheels that turned every now and then, not constantly but just every now and then. That was because there was… the guy looking after Roger’s drums and me who actually turned those wheels. And there was no set cue or anything that, “Oh, it has to start on this bar, on this song.” No, it

was when he wasn’t doing anything and I wasn’t doing anything, we’d say “Ok, let’s go and do it.” And we turned the wheels for a couple of minutes and then left them alone. He had then to do something for Roger and I would just sit there like I always did. And then you’d go back and you’d turn the wheels, like a hamster. We were like hamsters… So, that’s my memory of The Works tour. PS: And how technically did you operate those wheels? How was it possible? PF: With your hands. You just grabbed hold, you know, because it was like cogs on a wheel, and you just grabbed hold of them. Because we would be behind, I mean, I was always on John Deacon’s side, so I was hidden behind his bass setup. And you just pulled on the cogs because the whole wheel was on a metal axle and you just held there and you just pulled it down. PS: And the wheels actually were the real wheels, the big ones, right? PF: The very big ones in the back that moved, yeah. And they were made of, I think, polystyrene and plywood. So they weren’t very heavy. PS: So it was, like, actually you taking a part in the show, like, directing this? PF: Yes, I mean, you know, this is how things used to work in the old days before half of you were born. [laughs] You had to use your hands. I don’t think that a Queen tour as it is now is manual anymore. Everything is “push buttons” in it. PS: Yes, so it was indeed like the works, you had to work to make it work, right? PF: Yes, but nobody knew that’s how it works. They just saw these wheels turning every now and then. PS: It’s like a kind of magic indeed… PF: Yes, this was the whole thing with the Queen show – that people saw things happening but didn’t try and think “Oh, how do they do that?” If I see a big show now, I just think “How do they do that?” You’re not listening to the music anymore, you’re thinking “How do they get this to move? How do they get that?” But in the old days, you never did that, you just saw it move and it was part of the show. PS: You were just enjoying it, you didn’t have the time to analyse it. PF: Yeah. PS: I see. That’s a great memory, Peter. So, the third topic is about Freddie’s solo album, “Mr. Bad Guy” Freddie firstly wanted to name his solo album Made In Heaven and he even mentions that title in an interview with David Wigg. Why did he later decide to call it Mr Bad Guy? PF: I think he felt that Mr Bad Guy represented him more than Made In Heaven. And the lyrics to that song, everything. It sort of was very much about him. I think that’s why it changed. I actually love that song because it is real orchestra on it. And I was in the studio. I mean, it’s not a massive studio, so what they had to do, they had to record each section, so the strings section was there and recorded all their parts. And they went out. And woodwind recorded all their parts. Then brass recorded their parts. Then timpani came in and recorded. You know, they could not do everything together, so it was actually really quite complicated. But the end result, I think, is great. It reminds me very, very much of “The Carnival of the Animals”, the old classical piece. That was written by Camille Saint-Saëns. But that is what I’m immediately reminded of when I listen to “Mr Bad Guy”, you know. [starts to hum the song] You know, all the different pieces of the orchestra doing it, repeating it. Now, that for me is my favourite part. PS: I also enjoy it, I adore it. It’s truly a work of art from Freddie. PF: Yes, definitely, definitely. And I agree with him because it does represent him, multifaceted. You know, you never expect… He never gives you something that you expect. He always gives you something that will surprise you. PS: Yes. And why bad guy, why do you think Mr Bad Guy? Why bad? PF: Because… anytime in the press, there was never anything saying what a lovely man he is. So why not live up to his reputation? PS: Yes, it’s like “Yes, I’m everybody’s Mr Bad Guy,” yes. PF: Yes, this is it. This is what people want to believe, so this is what I will be. PS: Yes. And why do you think his first title was exactly not some

other track title but exactly “Made In Heaven”? Why was his first idea about exactly this song, to call the album this way? PF: I don’t know, I really cannot answer that one for you. I don’t know why he thought of that. Maybe he thought that would be the most popular track. A very popular track. PS: Yeah, it’s a hit song, totally remindful, yeah. And what was Freddie mostly like during the recording? What’s your favourite memory of him in this period? PF: That’s a lot more difficult because it was a difficult time. Munich. It took him far too long to create it. In the end, he was more interested in going out and spending time with Barbara Valentin than he was in creating work. I mean, the amount of time… he would turn up in the studio at two o’clock. Because he always turned up at two o’clock. It was pointless staying or coming at ten because he wouldn’t. And the thing is, it’s a singer’s voice, he’s not really ready to use [it] until later on in the afternoon. Once he’s warmed up properly and everything else. But the thing is, by four o’clock the phone would be ringing and Barbara was bored, so Freddie would run over and go out with her. So it was hard. And sometimes it felt like he was forcing himself to enjoy himself. Because he also felt bad, because he knew he should have been working, but he was letting his arm be twisted very, very, very easily. Yeah, I mean, okay, yes, he did enjoy himself when he was with Barbara, but he also had in the back of his mind that he was supposed to be working. PS: But the final result, I think, is totally great, he’s so much presented there. PF: It wasn’t the commercial success that people were expecting, but I think Freddie was happy with it in the end. PS: Yeah, it’s, like, his self-portrait songs. PF: Yeah, yeah, yeah. It got that music out of his system so that when he was back with Queen he was thinking more of the band stuff than, you know, things that the band would be happy with and just him happy with. Also, the thing is, Freddie did miss the rest of the band. He would never admit it but if you listen to some of the instrumentals on some of his solo tracks you could imagine Brian playing the guitar, you could imagine John playing the bass. You know, he missed having the band around him. PS: I see, I see. Even though it was his only first experience as his solo work, he already missed the other boys. PF: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Because the thing is, all his recording before Mr. Bad Guy had always been with other people around. You know, even when he was producing the Peter Straker album, he had friends around him doing things. This was him on his own and it was all on his shoulders. PS: Yeah, and he worked on this album perfectly, it’s absolutely a masterpiece, yeah. So, the fourth topic is about Freddie’s and Roger’s connection. There is a story that Freddie heard Roger’s song “Heaven For Everyone” and he liked it so much that he wanted to sing it, and in the end The Cross, Roger Taylor’s band, released a version with Freddie’s vocals on it. And do you remember, had Freddie ever listened to Roger’s solo albums at home? PF: Freddie didn’t really listen to very much of anybody’s music at home. The only thing I remember... well, okay, yes, I remember putting on videos of Prince. But, musically, we would put on, we would buy every one that came out. It was a series of CD’s and albums, of course, before the CD’s, Now That’s What I Call Music. And what it would be, would be the sort of top hits of two months or something. And they would all be on Now That’s What I Call Music 1, then Now That’s What I Call Music 2. I think it’s on to Now That’s What I Call Music 373 at the moment. I don’t know. That was the music that he would put on, it was the music of the time. Because, you know, for his own music, for Queen music, that was work for him. And what concerns Freddie listening to Roger’s albums - probably what it would’ve been he would’ve listened to it when he and Roger met up. But it wouldn’t necessarily be at home they would put on the album. They would meet up and Roger would say,

“Oh, you must hear, listen to this, you have to hear this. This is something I’ve been working on,” you know, that sort of thing. PS: I see. And, you mentioned Freddie enjoying Prince, and it connects me with the fifth topic and it’s about the musician of the same age as Prince and it’s, like, a connection of Freddie Mercury from Queen and the Queen of Pop who is known as Madonna. What was Freddie’s attitude to Madonna? Because it’s almost impossible to imagine that he never ever mentioned her or never talked about her. PF: He admired her as… a woman surviving and winning in basically a man’s world. Yeah, because she was a power. And for that he admired her. Some of the music he quite liked. But there’s also the other side of the coin. Freddie, for all he was, had one security with him whenever he went out or everything. And Freddie felt that Madonna was actually attracting attention to herself rather than protecting herself. When she would go running in Hyde Park with ten security, you know, he said, “If she went with one person, people wouldn’t even notice her, but because she’s got ten people around her, then the whole world is going to notice. And you are best safe not like that but if you have just one person.” So, I mean, for that side he didn’t understand her thinking, but for her musical acumen and for her performance he thought she was fine, she was good. PS: And what is your personal attitude to Madonna? Do you like her? PF: Again, some of the things she’s done I think are very, very good. I don’t know, the more recent stuff I’m not so keen on. But all the first ten years or whatever of her stuff, I loved it. Yeah. Because, again, she never copied, she always did her own thing, and she never repeated herself. And I love originality. PS: And what is your own favourite memory about Freddie and Montserrat, Barcelona story in general? PF: I suppose it would have to be the actual recording of “Barcelona” because that was the first track that was completed. Freddie had sent Montserrat a tape giving her a guide vocal. Mike Moran had written out the music for her and sent it. So when she came in, when she arrived, she was fully, fully prepared for what was going to happen. But I remember being with Freddie after she’d done the first tape of her vocals for Barcelona, and… there were almost, almost, I mean, there were tears down his face. He was saying, “I now have the greatest voice in the world singing my music.” And that will always stay with me, always. PS: I see, so it was, like, very deep for him. And what is your favourite memory of Montserrat as a person? PF: Ah, a lot of memories. I went to pick her up at the airport, took her to the hotel, I would go and meet her at the hotel, go with her to the studio, all of that sort of things. And I was only in the studio when Montserrat was there. And when she was actually putting her vocal tracks down, the track was basically finished. I saw her so many times after the recording as well. You know, I went to see different performances of her. And it was because of her that I was actually at the Palais Garnier in Paris. You know, the opera house in Paris. Because she actually did an AIDS Gala there. And she invited me to go. I think… her laughter. It’s just like Freddie’s. Because whenever people ask me what’s my first memory, what is the memory that first comes to my mind of Freddie, and it’s always him laughing. And it’s the same with her. Whether she’s just finished a performance or actually when she’s doing a recital or a concert. And during her encores, she is always giggling and laughing. Amazing giggle. Because she likes to bring the audience in during the encores. And she’s got this infectious giggle. She invited me to the first night ever of her performing Isolde in “Tristan and Isolde” in Barcelona. And talking with her afterwards, I said, “You must know how wonderful it is for me to be coming here, to be seeing it, to be listening to you.” And she says, “Of course, you’re part of the family.” So, that really has always stuck with me. PS: So, the next topic for

today is Freddie spending time just making any kind of normal activities. And the question is firstly about his swimming skills – could Freddie actually swim, and if yes, did he enjoy it? PF: I never saw him swim. Never. I don’t know if he could swim. I’ve often thought about that and I never saw it. He didn’t… thinking about it, we went on a motor boat when we were at Pike’s hotel in Ibiza one time. And he didn’t look the most comfortable. So, I really don’t know if he could actually swim. I never saw him in a swimming pool or anything like that. Even when there was a swimming pool around, I never saw him in it. PS: But speaking of other activities, for example, you mentioned your staying at Pike’s hotel, he liked to play tennis there, right? PF: Yes. And, of course, when he was younger he was very good at table tennis. So, yeah, he enjoyed tennis. When we were living together with Freddie in Los Angeles, in that house, there was a tennis court as well and he played there a few times. PS: I see. And what are your other memories of Los Angeles? PF: Los Angeles. Also I remember in Los Angeles it was in L’Ermitage hotel when Queen were designing the Hot Space album cover there. They were there, maybe, even rehearsing for a tour or something. That’s the hotel I was staying in at that time. It was just this concrete glass and… stainless steel… and chrome. It was a very, very modern hotel. I remember, there were all band members, I was there, Chris Taylor was there, Paul Prenter was there. And they were throwing ideas around. And that’s where Freddie came up with the colours. “That’s the hot space, the space is the colours, hot colours.” PS: Ah, so it has something to do with image, with colour as you see it… PF: Yeah, yeah, yeah. PS: The hot like the bright one, right? A definitive one. PF: Yeah, yeah. PS: And he drew, like, a draught of the cover, right? Because he is credited as designer. PF: They were talking about which colours and then who would be which colour and then what they would put on each colour. You know, when they started talking about, not necessarily a profile but just picking out the aspects that people recognize from each artist, like Brian and his hair, Freddie and his moustache, you know, that sort of thing. PS: And so, each member chose the colour for himself by his own, right? PF: Yeah, yeah, yeah. PS: And how do you think, why Freddie chose the red colour? PF: Because it’s the colour that sticks out the most, although red was not his favourite colour, his favourite colour was yellow. But red is the one that you first look at. If you look at every sale, you know, big sale signs and everything, it’s always red on white. Because red is the colour you notice more. Apparently, whether it’s true or not, I don’t know, but in the old days police stopped more red cars than any other car. PS: Oh, really? PF: Yeah. Just psychologically red is the colour that stands out. PS: And Freddie being so outstanding wanted to strike everybody. PF: Yeah. PS: I see. And you mentioned Freddie and you spending time at Pike’s hotel. And what is also your personal favourite memory of this time. PF: I suppose the swimming pool was actually something nice. To actually think that we were in the swimming pool where Wham had recorded “Club Tropicana”. I mean, yeah, Pike’s. It was a nice hotel. They treated you well. They treated you personally, you know, they took care of you. And so it was a nice place. You really felt well-treated. PS: And what was, like, the top of the top on Freddie’s 41st birthday? What are your memories? PF: The most ridiculous thing is when guests went off into a corner and started smoking, so they weren’t smoking at the table and set light to the decorations. There were all these paper decorations hanging down the walls and everything. And people were there smoking and not looking at what they were doing, and they set light to them with their cigarettes. And then they started throwing alcohol to try and, you know, because it was wet they thought they would put the flames out. I mean, some people are not

very, very bright. [laughs] PS: I see. And what was your favourite memory of his previous one birthday, in 1986, the hat party? PF: Now, the hat party was a one-off, there was no other party quite like that, in Garden Lodge. Not with two hundred and something guests. Because the thing is, the thing that I loved about the fact was that nothing was put away. None of his vases or, you know, anything was put on tables. All the antiques and everything. Everything was left there. Because, okay, there were two hundred people but he actually knew them. He knew he could trust them. PS: And what was it like for him when he arrived back from his magnificent journey to Japan? PF: The thing is, it extended because he was then back home opening up all the packages that had arrived and the crates that had arrived. Because everything was sent over as soon as he bought it. So, the big room, the small room. Everything, all the rooms were full. And these, he had twelve of them. So, it was like Christmas. You know, a six-week Christmas. Because he was away enjoying himself and then opening up and putting it all around the house. PS: So, he was actually in Japan for six weeks, right? PF: No, no, he was in Japan, I think, for about three weeks. But then when he came back, he had three weeks of opening up and putting them all out. PS: So, he had a chance to enjoy his presents one more time, like, actually having them all. PF: Precisely, precisely. PS: So, it was, like, double joy – first to buy it and then to enjoy it at home. PF: Yes, yeah, yeah. PS: And mostly he bought antiques, right? PF: Yeah, I mean, he did actually buy some modern porcelain and things, but almost everything was antique. Almost everything. PS: I see. It was indeed a magic year for him. The Magic tour and the magic holiday… PF: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Definitely. PS: I see, I see. So, as we are ending our first part by now, I’m saying to you a very, very big thank you, Peter. It’s amazing to hear all these stories about Freddie. PF: It’s been a pleasure, it’s a pleasure. SPECIAL THANKS TO VALUREX FOR CONTRIBUTION AND ASSISTENCE TO BE CONTINUED

#MR interview with Phoebe #queen #queen band #freddie mercury

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midasinc · 3 years ago

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modern era jean valjean hcs:

-he likes old people things like gardening. he and cosette had their own herb garden when she was growing up because he preferred to grow his own herbs. since cosette moved out for school, he's coped by expanding the garden to now include lots of veggies. his backyard has transformed into one big vegetable garden and valjean spends a lot of time outside tending to his plants. he always has big, red, ripe tomatoes that taste perfect every time and he's particularly proud of his asparagus garden. the front of his yard isn't edible, but it's gorgeous. he has flowers in the front yard that he also tends to religiously and most of the time when he's going to one of cosette's ballet performances, the bouquet he gets her is clipped from his own garden

-valjean loves elton john. he and cosette both do and i mentioned this in her hcs. your song makes his heart feel so full of love. oh man. he loves that song. he also plays piano and when cosette was younger, he'd play that song for her

-he has little old man spectacles on a little beaded chain. he looks like a librarian and it's super cute

-he's also very very humble with his clothing. valjean has a lot in the bank but he dresses very plainly and simply. he doesn't think he deserves the money he has and certainly doesn't deserve to dress all fancy. he and cosette have both always been really big on donating clothing when they don't need it and not overconsuming. valjean was really good teaching her about that- not buying things when they didn't need to. a lot of his clothing he's had for 20+ years, but as long as they aren't ripped and threadbare, he sees no reason to replace them. a good shirt is a good shirt.

-valjean struggles with depersonalization and disassociation. he's felt the need to change himself so often due to his paranoia and anxiety and it leaves him kind of fucked because he isn't sure if he's a real person or a costume. it used to scare cosette as a kid because she'd walk into the kitchen after school and he'd just be in the kitchen, sort of frozen with his eyes glazed over and it was like he couldn't hear her asking if he was okay. in uni, cosette starts to realize that it's a real mental barrier he experiences and due to her own experiences with therapy being helpful, she takes him to a session and asks him to consider getting help because he does deserve a helping hand whether he believes it or not

-he's aroace. point blank. he doesn't consider himself queer because he's kind of behind on what the lgbt community is, but valjean is still really really supportive. cosette takes him to pride and he just calls himself a supporter and not really a member, but he's still very much happy for her to put stickers on his cheeks and give him a rainbow lei

-valjean can do calligraphy! he's really good at it, too. it's one of his old people hobbies and he has a bunch of nice pens and inks that cosette bought for him on his birthday. he taught it to cosette when she was little, so she can do it too and if they ever send each other letters, they're both so fucking fancy. these two r dorks.

-he has... the nicest smile lines... you can tell he loves the people around him

-valjean makes a MEAN fuckin cannelloni dish. he does it with spinach and ricotta and it's to die for. he really likes baked pastas and i am TELLING you he has it perfected. baked pastas are an art to him and he is michelangelo

-cosette likes anime because she really likes the ones with cute animation and storylines and she's had so much hardship in her life that she really only cares about happy endings, and she used to watch them with valjean when she lived with him. she'd be explaining the plot and he'd be squinting at the tv like "and why are her breasts doing that" "dad please just say boobs" "it's disrespectful to young girls to sexualize them like that"

-he has a bunch of ceramic birds around the house. none of them really match, but he finds them at yard sales and feels sad that they're losing their home, so he picks them up and finds another shelf to put them on. cosette took one of them to uni with her- it's a green parrot that used to sit on their bookshelf. when she was little, she used to pretend it was her pet and secretly carry it around the house. this resulted in the parrot breaking and cosette sobbing because she was terrified of valjean getting mad at her, but he explained that it was okay and mistakes happened and helped her glue it back together. the cracks are still there, but that specific incident helped cosette trust valjean and feel like he was a father to her

-valjean is a tea drinker. he tries to cut most caffeine out of his life but he starts every morning with a mug of irish breakfast tea because he needs some kind of pick-me-up. when he gets stressed, he drinks chamomile. on the worst kinds of days, he drinks peppermint

-he's also just a geezer when it comes to technology. the only reason he has a touch-screen cellphone in the first place was because cosette told him that it would make communication between them easier and he could video chat her. she had to teach him how to use it and sometimes he still gets confused. valjean has never exited out of a tab on his google app. he has. so many. tabs open. he has no idea he can swipe out and clear them, so he has probably over 500 tabs open and his little old phone chugs so hard to keep them all up

#les mis #les miserables #modern era #modern au #jean valjean #my fave aroace dad #i love him vv much #victor hugo #valjean #les mis headcanons #OPs Les Mis HCs

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milkybonya · 3 years ago

Text

In THE DaRk

order 004 for anon: large coconut milk tea (In THE DaRk by BOBBy) with regular tapioca pearls and fresh taro

Warnings: food mentions

Pairing: idol!Hui x delivery worker!reader

Summary: you deliver food to cube ent. and end up becoming friends with Hui, an idol who's at the peak of his career... but he finds himself falling for you even as his songs rise on the charts :")

Word count: like maybe 3k?

[a/n]: i love this request because i love this song and writing it while listening to the song on loop in the dark of my room just made me so happy? also i put wayyyy more effort into this than necessary and it turned out super long >.< i'm so sorry anonnie i hope you like itttt ahhh

Shine, you shine on my existence

Sure, Hui was an idol with a life of his own - especially now, during Shine promotions, that his group, PENTAGON, was blowing up. Yet he never failed to make time for you, because you were the light of his life.

As a hardworking idol who was always cooped up in his studio and skipping meals, his members encouraged him to at least order food. He was reluctant but eventually agreed, not wanting to make them worry.

That's where you came in: a delivery worker at a local restaurant not too far from Cube entertainment, Hui's company. A lot of people ordered from your restaurant to Cube, so you weren't surprised when a new order flashed on the iPad screen at your workplace.

"We've got another delivery, [y/n]," the worker at the front told you with a smile, walking to the back to tell the cooks what to prepare.

You tapped your feet against the ground, awaiting the order. Once it was prepared, you carefully placed it in your delivery bag, fastened it to your bike and off you went, wearing a helmet of course.

The gentle breeze was enough to cheer you up and give you energy, despite the scene around you being full of traffic and slightly bleak.

Once you arrived, the guards let you in without even checking your workplace ID this time, recognizing you as a trusted delivery person.

You made your way up to the floor listed on the order, roaming through countless hallways until you finally found the right room. Judging by the area and the doors, it seemed to be full of studios.

The person who ordered this must be working hard, you thought to yourself.

Suddenly, you got an urge to leave a note, wishing the person well. You took out a scrap piece of paper and a pen that you always had handy, your heart racing and your hands shaking at the thought of doing this. You were excited at the idea of the person being happy to see such a cheerful note...

I hope you enjoy this meal and that it gives you enough energy to keep working hard :) Go for it!

After neatly placing the food and note at the door, you knocked and walked away, not wanting to bother the person. Even though you didn't turn your back, you heard the door open a few seconds later.

"Thank you!" a voice echoed through the hall.

You turned quickly to say ‘you’re welcome’ in response and caught a glimpse of what seemed to be a young idol hard at work. His hair was messy and he had dark circles under his eyes, but his mismatches clothes and bright smile were quite cute.

You thought that would be the last you’d see of him, but from that day onwards, he always ordered food from your restaurant at the same time: 2:09pm. Why so specific? You weren’t sure, but that’s how it was, and you being the only delivery worker at your restaurant meant that it would always be you taking the food to him.

The second time you went, you were surprised to see a note waiting on the door for you.

Thank you for your cheerful message... I’ll do my best to work harder!

It made you smile and you decided to leave another note with his order, this time just asking him what his favourite side dishes were so you could tell the cooks to put more of those in next time. Instead of him leaving a note for you with the response, though, Hui decided to text you this time so he wouldn't have to wait for you to make another delivery before you could see his response.

Unknown: This is Hui! Ah, I ordered food from you at 2:09pm? I'm not really picky on side dishes, but one of my members likes kimchi, so could you make sure to leave more of that for me?

You: sure, of course! but how did you get my number?

Hardworking Hui: Ah, sorry! It was on the app since you're the delivery worker... for me to contact you in case you get lost? I'm sorry!

You: No, that's okay! i just wanted to be sure ^^

So after that day, you made sure Hui always got extra kimchi with his order. He would always greet you at the door of his studio, quickly asking about your day and how you were doing. Truthfully, he actually wanted to ask you to come inside so he could talk with you some more, because the two of you would always get an interesting conversation going before you declared you had to leave.

Since he was too shy to ask you in person, he texted you, instead.

Hardworking Hui: could you get the rest of the day off after delivering my order today?

You: why?

Hardworking Hui: so you can eat with me? if that's okay? or just take an hour off!

You: ...

You: Only if you pay for my food :P

Hardworking Hui: deal

So that day, you asked your manager for the hour off from 2:30pm to 3:30pm. She agreed, knowing that you always work hard and deserve a break.

Showing up to Hui's studio with his usual order and some food for yourself in your hands, you knocked a little nervously this time, knowing that this wouldn't just be a delivery, but a whole... hang out? Type of thing?

Hui had made sure to clean his studio to the best of his ability, making sure that there was another comfy chair for you to sit on and that the room didn't smell bad or anything. He lit a couple of candles and vacuumed the place so there would be no dust. When you knocked on the door, he jumped out of his seat with excitement, immediately opening it.

"Hi! Come in," he said, holding the door open so you could step inside. Seeing the cosy, dimly lit space left you in awe.

"It's so cool to see where you've been working away for all this time," you said, sitting down on a chair and putting the food down.

"Yeah... sometimes I get tired of it, but it's home," Hui said, sitting on his studio chair and opening up the food.

"Ah... where's the kimchi?" Hui asked, pointing at all the dishes.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I told the cook to include my favourite side dish too, but he must have just replaced the kimchi with this instead, I'm so sorry!"

Hui laughed, shaking his head.

"It's completely fine!" he said, handing you your favourite side dish.

As the two of you began eating, you were able to get to know each other more as you spoke and asked each other questions. Even though it was a little silly asking for each other's favourite colours and seasons, it was a lot of fun, and the two of you turned out to have a lot in common.

Tears are erased by my emotions / Add, add colour to the world

After that day, you weren't just a delivery worker for Hui, and he wasn't just a customer to you. The two of you became close friends, attending the concerts of your favourite artists together. Hui would joke and say that he was attending for work reasons, trying to gain musical inspiration, while you had no real reason to be there. You'd slap his shoulder lightly, telling him to watch his words while he'd laugh at your reaction.

Even though his work was stressful at times, it was days like those that seemed to make him cry in reverse, if that was even possible? You showed up and turned his world around, adding colour onto his black and white canvas.

His members even told him that he seemed more cheerful and energetic despite still working hard in the studio, and Hui even told you that his songwriting process seemed to be running more smoothly.

"I'm so glad we became friends," he told you, leaning his head on your shoulder one day as the two of you sat on a park bench. You smiled, strongly agreeing with him in your own heart.

But do you remember when I mentioned Shine promotions at the beginning of this? Well, let's skip forward to that point.

By then, you had seen Hui and his group perform quite a few times, whether it was at concerts, music shows or even on the TV at your home. You were incredibly proud of him and wanted nothing but for him to succeed.

Every time Hui found you in the crowd at any of his live performances, he'd feel some kind of crazy adrenaline rush as all of his tiredness just seemed to magically disappear. He'd perform as if rent was due just because you gave him the energy to do so.

"Was [y/n] watching us again?" Hyunggu asked backstage after another performance for Shine ended safely.

"Yeah, I saw them there!" Hongseok confirmed.

"Plus, you can tell by the way Hui is acting," Yuto laughed, nodding towards Hui who was frantically texting you asking you if you'd left completely.

You told him you were still at the venue, and he begged you to come backstage. When you arrived, you greeted all of the Pentaboys, who adored you almost as much as Hui did, before joining Hui at his makeup table. You greeted the makeup artist too, out of respect, before asking Hui why he needed to see you so urgently.

"We might win today... I just wanted you to be by my side as good luck," he explained, a clearly worried expression on his face.

It was a shock to you that despite Shine doing so well on the charts, Pentagon still had not gotten their first win, but you knew they were an amazing group, regardless.

What you doing now? What's your plan now?

You placed your hand on top of Hui's, which rested on his own thigh.

"Hui, I know you haven't been getting all the wins you've been expecting, but we can't deny that this song is absolutely a bop and you have all been killing it!" you told him with a smile.

You couldn't tell whether or not your words had any sort of effect on him because he was looking down, but you hoped they at least didn't make him feel worse.

The rest of the Pentaboys cheered hearing your words though, feeling energized at your honest observation.

Hui was looking down because his stomach was tied in knots at the feeling of your hand on his. It was something he'd never felt before... butterflies? He tried to shrug it off but he couldn't stop wondering about your intentions... did you place your hand over his for a reason? What were you trying to tell him? What were you planning?

Inside my brain, after making a place for you / You make it impossible for me to sleep

That night, Hui still couldn't stop thinking about your simple gesture. You didn't mean anything by it, right? It was just a friend comforting a friend... the two of you had been friends for a while now, so why was he thinking into this so much?

As feelings of sleepiness took over, he drowsily wondered what it would be like to hold your hand rather than to just have his hand underneath yours. What would it be like to be held by you?

The next day, with more promotions ahead, you made sure to send Hui a text of good luck. You wouldn't be able to watch from the live audience that day, since you had work and deliveries to carry out, but you still wanted him to know that you were thinking of him.

Hui couldn't stop staring at your message of good luck for the whole day, pressing his finger on the heart emoji that you added at the end of your message.

"Hui hyung, are you reading something?" Wooseok asked the leader, sitting beside him on the sofa in the waiting room.

"Huh? N-no," Hui quickly said with a laugh, tucking his phone away.

"You've been staring at your phone all day... what is it, is it a fun webtoon?"

"No, no! Don't worry about it," Hui laughed, ruffling the tall boy's hair.

Wooseok whined, yelling about how the stylist just did his hair. Meanwhile, Hui's heart was racing. Why had he been staring at your text message all day?

You: I'm thinking of you today, Hui! Go get em, good luck <3

Are you thinking of me in this dawn? / I wish there was a continuous portal from my room to yours

Again, that night, Hui couldn't stop thinking about you. This time, it was about the message you'd sent him. He still had it open and was staring at it. He wondered if, when you said you were thinking of him, did that mean you were thinking of him right then and there too? At the same time when he was thinking about you?

Were your sleepless thoughts filled with him, just like his were filled with you-?

Ring ring. Ring ring.

Shit.

He'd been staring at your text and holding his phone so tightly that he accidentally pressed the call icon next to your name.

"Hello?" you answered sleepily. It was 3am and you had been asleep.

"H-hello? [y/n]?"

"Yes, Hui, what is it?"

"I uh..."

He desperately tried to think of an excuse for calling you, any reason-

"I wish there was a portal that went directly from my room to yours."

Really, Hui? Was that the best thing you could think of?

His heart raced and he smiled as he heard your laugh on the other end. He didn't realize he'd balled his other hand into a fist until your laughter made him calm down.

"What are you saying, Hui?"

"I miss you..." he mumbled.

Despite being sleepy, his words still made you nervous. Your heart raced and you wondered what he was trying to tell you.

"I m-miss you too," you croaked out.

"Really?" Hui asked you, sitting up in bed.

"Yeah, really," you said, laughing. It wasn't a lie, either. You'd been watching all of his performances on your phone that day while working, almost falling off your bike because you were that invested. In him.

"Do you wanna meet up now?"

"Now?" you spluttered.

"Yeah... by the Han River?"

You paused for a while before answering.

"Let's do it."

Even if I breathe in the cold air / It feels sweet, so sweet

"AHHH IT'S SO COOOOLD!" Hui yelled into the night air, rubbing his arms and running around in circles beside you.

"Here, take my coat," you said, but instead just wrapping your arms around him.

Hui tensed up, wondering if your arm that was wrapped around his chest could feel his heartbeat.

"W-what are you doing?" he asked.

"Providing you with warmth," you said.

You also felt butterflies stirring within you, realizing that maybe you saw Hui as more than just a friend. Yet you shrugged it off, telling yourself that Hui was an idol and you were just a delivery worker.

You can't know my pathetic feelings / Even if I've confessed a hundred times inside my brain / I'm invisible to you

Hui stayed quiet, closing his eyes tightly and enjoying the feeling of being in your arms on this cold night. He knew this embrace wouldn't last and that maybe it wouldn't happen again, because in his mind, he was invisible to you. Just a friend who you goofed around with, but all of your jokes made his heart rush.

The two of you ran around the grassy banks of Han River together, laughing into the night and chasing each other like kids. Each time Hui caught up to you, he'd wrap his small frame around you so tightly that it made you lose your breath. You told yourself it was just because you were running so hard, but it was definitely something else.

As the sun was beginning to rise and the two of you were finally in your homes, trying to get some sleep, Hui imagined what it would be like to confess to you. What if he confessed right there and then when you hugged him by the Han River? What if he told you how much he likes you and... what if you felt the same? What if you cupped his cheeks in your hands and kissed him right there as the river reflected the starlight from the sky...? What if Hui would drop his phone in shock but would kiss you back more passionately?

No, Hui. No.

If I ever want you to feel the same / That must be greedy, that'd probably be a chance to peek into heaven / 'Cause you are angel

There was no way any of that would ever happen. There was no way you would ever like him back, at least for Hui. You were way too good for him, an angel on this planet full of demons and sinners.

Little did he know that you were also squinting at the sun, struggling to get some sleep as you thought of the way Hui would press his face into your chest every time he caught up to you at the Han River as you chased each other for fun. His bright smile and gentle laughter made your heart feel like the Han River itself, gently flowing along but filled with such a refreshing feeling.

After another week of intense Shine promotions, Hui feeling all sorts of emotions as Shine continued to soar while his feelings for you also grew, it became unbearable. The two of you would talk late into the night, whether it was sending texts because Hui was busy working or whether it was phone calls. Hui thought about you every second of every day and always missed you a ton.

Please know that I like you / I just want to be there for the rest of your life

Hui asked you to meet him in his studio one evening, as he knew your work schedule and knew that you were free. You agreed, slightly confused as to how he was making time to meet with you despite being so busy.

"Hui, I'm here!" you sang, opening the door to his studio and finding him sitting there in his chair, looking especially cute as his hair was slightly ruffled and he wore a big, comfy hoodie.

"[y/n], I have to tell you something," he said, with a slightly sad smile.

"Yeah, what is it?"

You grew worried, but decided not to make a fuss over anything just yet.

"So, for some time now.... well, of course we've been good friends, and I don't want this to ruin that if you don't feel the same..."

He sighed mid-sentence.

"Gosh, I don't know why I'm rambling," he said with a laugh.

You instinctively laughed along.

"Well, [y/n]. I like you... a lot. I know it's pathetic for me to feel this way when I don't even deserve you, but-"

"You like me?" you cut him off.

Hui nodded in response, looking slightly red now.

Nervous and absolutely bewildered, you starting laughing to yourself, making Hui worry if he'd said something wrong.

"Hui, I... I like you too, what the hell?! And here I was thinking I was pathetic!"

"You're not pathetic at all!" Hui said, grinning widely and bright red in the face upon hearing your answer to his confession.

Both of you nervously smiled at each other for some time before Hui broke the silence.

"I know... it may be hard to date me... well no, it will be hard to date me since I'm an idol, but I promise I'll give this my everything. It's a given, because of how much I like you and how lucky I am for you to even date me-"

"I never said I was dating you," you joked.

"What?" Hui asked in shock.

"I'm joking! Hui, it's okay. We'll get through these difficulties together, whatever they may be," you said, holding half of his face in your right hand, stroking his cheek with your thumb.

Hui leaned into your touch, closing his eyes.

"You're right," he said, before turning his face and pressing his lips to your hand.

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shoichee · 4 years ago

Note

Hello! Can I perhaps ask for no. 28. “Make me” from your prompt list for my beloved Imayoshi? It's so nice seeing him here on your theme and avatar and that pERFECT url, it feels like I finally found my people.

HELLO HELLO, and YES I WAS SO SURPRISED THAT NO ONE TOOK THIS URL... considering that it was just an alternative spelling of shoichi and its a rlly short handle too mwehe // im sort of a particular person when it comes to how something looks, whether itd be outfits, drawings, coloring, and the UI of a blog, u name it.... i may have spent hours trying to have the perfect colors for this theme PLEASEEEE, but without further ado here is our man, our little shit, Imayoshi

@knb-kreations howdy! another new work posted here!

Imayoshi x Reader

28. “Make me”

Word Count: 2331

prompt list here

»»—————　☼　—————««

Imayoshi doesn’t exactly know how he feels about you.

Scratch that, he does know. He’s quite amused at the shenanigans you pull on others around you, and a lot of times, you actually elicit a few dry laughs out of the guy. Other times though, he’d wish that you would just shut the fuck up, especially when all he hears amidst his studying was your loud “whispering” and “hushed” jokes. How you were always nearby no matter where he is was still a mystery that he casually ponders about from time to time. Perhaps your natural tendency to project your voice creates the illusion that you were near when you really weren’t?

No matter, such trivial thoughts can’t occupy his mind when college entrance exams loom closer. Then again, they weren’t particularly difficult; they were simply a hassle to secure near-perfect scores, especially when his chances of admittance rely critically on how well he does.

“That’s an awful drawing of a samurai,” Susa comments, snapping Imayoshi out of idle thought.

“Ho? Is it really terrible if you were able to tell what it is?” Imayoshi chuckles. “The point of a drawing is to convey the right idea or emotion. It seems that my drawing skills hit a bulls-eye with this sketch, no?” He playfully spins his pencil around, patiently waiting for his reply to goad him.

All Susa does in response is to roll his eyes before he turns his full attention back to his notes. He knows better than to try a comeback against Imayoshi, who can easily make it backfire against the person with a pleasant close-eyed smile. Imayoshi, seeing Susa’s nonverbal resign from engaging further banter, also looks down back to his book of scribbled notes and chicken-scratch drawings before he exhales an inaudible sigh.

School just doesn’t cut out to be mentally stimulating for him. It’s a little too repetitive and mundane for his taste.

“Argh!! Oh no!” your voice rang out, despite your poor attempt to be reasonably quiet. “I forgot applications for the Coca-Cola scholarship are due today!”

Coca-Cola… what?

Everyone looks up to warily eye you, and your few friends, who are currently rushing to pull you down and slap their hands over your mouth to mute you, were panicking at the new attention you managed to garner. Even still, your mind seems more fixated on whatever was on the laptop’s screen, rather than what they were doing to you.

Imayoshi can’t help but stifle his audible mirth from how you manage to change the mood of the entire library within seconds.

“How do you even forget something as important as a huge scholarship like that?” Susa says in dismay. “Makes me kind of wonder how (l/n) would handle life after graduation, to be honest.”

“Well,” Imayoshi begins. “I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s best not to underestimate (l/n)-san. Surely we’ve learned our lesson with Seirin?” He toys with the pencil grip before he sporadically draws some lines loosely resembling another sketch.

“Drawing again?” Susa raises a brow. “Have you even been studying?”

“Well,” he replies. “There’s still plenty of time before exams—months to be exact. Could you even study with the current distractions in here?” At his own words, he nudges his chin in your direction.

“It’s not just any exams though, it’s—”

“Whether they have more importance or not doesn’t really concern me. After all, standardized testing isn’t worth stressing out for when we’ve taken essentially the same thing all our lives.”

“What most are worried about is the content inside the exams, Imayoshi,” he said, carefully treading into dangerous waters with Imayoshi’s tendency to take all replies as mind-game challenges for his own amusement.

“‘If you have been paying attention consistently throughout the year, you wouldn’t be having much trouble…’ that’s what you once oh-so-wisely said to Wakamatsu yesterday, hmm?” His mimicking tone drips a hint of arrogance. “Unless you mean to tell me my ears do not work? But by all means, please feel free to correct me.”

“That’s different,” he sighed, his face clearly evident that he was done with Imayoshi’s shit. “That exam only tested content for the past year, not your entire academic repertoire over the courses of middle and high school.”

“I’d like to think that the logic still applies the same way.”

“Well,” Susa heaves with a languid stretch. “You generally score better on the exams than me, so you’re probably right. Still, don’t neglect your studying.”

“Right, right, Susa-senpai~”

“... Please don’t call me that again.”

“... If you say so,” he said, but his smile blatantly showed his real intentions of never stopping his irritable quips. Susa gets ready to pack up his book bag before he heads out the door with a friendly wave. Imayoshi half-heartedly returns the gesture with a casual wave of his own. He immediately notices you also packed up and about to leave with a worried frown, and of course, while audibly mumbling your concerns and makeshift schedules to accommodate time for last-minute essay writing. By now, all of your friends have left for home.

“Ah, biology lab due next week, kanji worksheets due tomorrow, hmm, um, how would I finish this on time… ah, calculus test is tomorrow too, ah shit… should I ask someone to tutor?—ah, but it’s super last minute, and there’s still that scholarship… argh, fuck!” Your voice peaked in volume at the end, and the librarian immediately shot daggers at you.

“Shhhhh!”

“A-Ah! S-Sorry, sorry!”

Imayoshi was watching you with his chin on his arm propped up on the desk, unable to control the smile that escaped his lips. You really were entertaining to watch, and you never cease to bore him.

He turns away to crack his neck and roll it around before methodically packing up his writing utensils and notebooks. Soft shuffling filled the air as he rearranged the items inside his bag. As he turns to pack the last thing on the table, which happened to be the notebook filled with his idle doodling, his face slightly softens at the drawing he did after the samurai. Yes, the one Susa chastised him for when he could’ve been studying. Yes, perhaps he was right when he was terrible at drawing after all; your panicked face and wild hand gestures didn’t really translate well into paper, and it looked a little too much like a horror comic and less than a sketch of you. Still, he’s oddly proud of it.

Imayoshi promptly pushes the chair in and leaves the library, but when he rounds the corner of the adjacent hallway, he bumps into you.

“Er—hi! I mean, please, uhhh… if it isn’t too much to ask—canyoupleasetutormeforthecalculustesttomorrowbecausemyfinalgradedependsonthat?”

Imayoshi winces at the sheer volume of your voice and plugs his ears in out of habit to block out some of the decibels. Wakamatsu was eerily similar to you in that regard. Only difference between the two of you was that you were deceptively intelligent. Extremely so.

“My, my, if it isn’t (l/n)-senpai!” He fakes a surprised look, earning him an eye roll on your end. “You need someone like me to teach you the works?”

“I—what? We’re literally in the same calc class, Imayoshi,” you retort. “Besides, drop the ‘senpai’ honorific. It feels so slimy when you say it so disingenuously… Aren’t we both 3rd years too?”

“I’m so hurt,” he mocks. “What if I was really genuine with you?”

“Look, right now, no remarks from you, Evil Glasses,” you say. “It’s really, really urgent and I don’t know how to grasp the material for the class lately, plus my essay, ugh…” You rub your fingers against your temples in an attempt to make the stressful headaches disappear while Imayoshi simply watches with his eyes slightly open.

“... You usually do well on all your exams, no? Unless my eyes and memory fail me.” It was true; even though you were as loud-mouthed as Wakamatsu, you would often shock a lot of people when your name always appeared in the higher percentiles of exam results. Apparently most students and teachers associate your rowdy personality with an expected subpar academic performance. He has you to thank for when your score reports always cause reactions of utter disbelief from the teachers. You really do liven up the school and make it a lot more unorthodox.

“I guess…” you mumble. “But I really wanna do especially well for this one because math is my weakest subject, and you always score the highest for these types of exams, so…”

“It may be my best subject,” he says, leaning slightly closer to your face. “But I’m not the one with the highest scores in any math subjects throughout these years, and we both know that quite well, don’t we, (l/n)? Why don’t you come clean about the real reason why you’re here?”

“Oh my literal fuck—Imayoshi, you’re one of the best students in calc right now regardless of exam results,” you petulantly huffed, not backing down from his intimidation. Imayoshi notes your cheeks reddening, and he figured it was either because of the close proximity between your faces or the fact you were frustrated… perhaps both. “And you’re the only one around here on campus who I could ask!”

“Really now,” he chimes, moving closer to whisper in your ear. “Are you sure?” With incoherent stammers, you backed away from him, slapping your hands against both of your ears to protect them.

“W-W-What the fuck are you doing?!”

“Looks like I won this one, (l/n)-san,” he purrs, relishing the fact that only he could render you this quiet. “Ho? What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”

“I—Shut up!” you lamely shoot back. “You can just say no if you really don’t wanna do this—urgh, I’m leaving, I’m not gonna waste any more time—”

“How hurtful,” he dryly remarks, standing up straight again after leaning for a quite a while. “It’s almost as if you’re rejecting me~” He knew you would always take his bait and quip back (unlike Susa), regardless of whether or not you tell him that you weren’t going to engage further.

“As if,” you snorted, making another exaggerated eye roll. “You’re the last person who would ever be hurt from this.”

“Dear me!” he exclaims. “Have you ever considered that perhaps I don’t help out people for free? Did you think I would be a gracious, selfless person who would help you like a saint?”

“Okay, fine! Perhaps I didn’t think that far ahead, okay? You just were the first person that came to mind, and I thought asking you wouldn’t hurt.” His smirk widens almost maliciously at your words, lips already opening to deliver another irritating quip before you immediately spoke again to stop him. “Okay, Imayoshi, you little shit, just shut up—I don’t wanna hear anything from your mouth right now.”

“I don’t see any reason why I should listen to you at all,” he muses. “Why don’t you make me?” He has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, eagerly eyeing your next move, and as he expected, you let out a frustrated noise that prompted passerby students to shoot pointed looks towards the both of you.

What he didn’t expect was for you to take a huge step towards him, unceremoniously pull him down to your level, and press a reverberating smack on his lips. His eyes are immediately blown wide open to look at your embarrassed, but determined face. His fingers unconsciously move to touch his warmed lips.

“... That was quite romantic, wasn’t it, (l/n)?” he dryly says, recovering almost immediately from the shock. All the other students fled from the blatantly bold scene to save face. Not that Imayoshi really cared.

“Okay, you know what? Bye, I’m not gonna play anymore mind games with you,” you grumble. “Essays and studying aren’t gonna be done by themselves—wah!”

Imayoshi gently tugs you back to reciprocate back a kiss, meticulously slipping his hands behind your head and on your waist to accommodate you. Your eyes are completely open from the shock that the Imayoshi Shoichi was actually kissing you. You don’t close your eyes from the sensation, completely entranced when you make eye contact with his half-lidded eyes watching your every reaction closely. The kiss ended all too soon, and Imayoshi separates himself from you, secretly admiring your dazed look.

“That was quite a strong reaction to just a simple kiss.”

“I—that was not just a ‘simple kiss!’”

“Now would you like to tell me the true reason why you approached me?”

“You’re… insinuating that you know something.”

“Well we wouldn’t know unless you come clean,” Imayoshi purrs. “I can sometimes be wrong too.”

“Ugh, what the hell—fine, I am quite enamored by you, and uh, I… find it infuriating to be with you, but it also gives me butterflies… so I thought I could be with you more… if I asked you—don’t get it twisted, though! I still need your help to study!...” He covers his mouth to suppress a laugh at your honesty.

“Was it really so hard to say that in the beginning, (l/n)-san?”

“Okay, that’s it! I’m really, really leaving! Fuck off, Imayoshi, I swear to—”

“Ho? Just a minute, darling~” he tuts, reaching to hold your hand. “Perhaps if you offer more kisses as an incentive, I’d be more inclined to offer my expertise.”

“How quaint,” you dryly reply. “It’s almost as if we’re in a relationship.”

Imayoshi can’t help but bark out a genuine laugh. You even managed to pick up some of his mannerisms so quickly.

“That’s an interesting proposal, (l/n),” he murmurs. “Should we try that?” You tut at him irritatedly as you tug your interlocked hands while speed-walking ahead.

“Hurry up, or I’ll consider breaking up with you right now.”

“Ah ha!~” he chuckles at your attitude. “How mean, (l/n)-san! Too bad that we both know that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”

#ask #narnvaeron #knb #knb scenarios #kuroko no basket #imayoshi shouichi #imayoshi shoichi #imayoshi x reader #imayoshi #knb fic #knb fluff #100 followers #100 follower milestone

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

Text

[CN] Shaw’s Scorching Waves Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an S2 date, 炙浪之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

Features S2 Shaw!

[ This date was released in CN on 28 Sep 2020 ]

MC: Mister, this is the place!

After paying the passenger fare, I hurriedly get off the car, but find that the entrance of Live House is already very crowded.

Sweeping my eyes across the area, I receive a shock.

Whether they are male or female, everyone here is donned in punk style: ripped shirts, leather outfits, jackets with rivets on them... A few people even have cool mohawk hairstyles.

At the side, the words “Rock ‘n’ Roll Night” are spray-painted on a wall. Below them is an eye-catching line--

"No entry if your attire doesn’t match the theme”

MC: ...

I look at my surroundings, then lower my head to look at my own officewear... Clearly, under such circumstances, I won’t be able to enter.

With uncertainty in my heart, I take out my phone and make a call.

After a few dial tones, Shaw’s languid voice drifts into my ear.

Shaw: What’s up?

MC: I’m at the entrance of Live House now.

Shaw: You really came?

His sentence ends with an upward lilt, as though a little surprised.

MC: Yeah. Over the phone last night, didn’t you tell me to come over after my meeting? Since it’s a formal invitation from you, and you’re performing a new song, of course I couldn’t miss it.

Probably not expecting that I’d rush over in time, Shaw pauses at the other end of the line for a while.

Shaw: ...you’re pretty punctual. Are there many people outside?

MC: Yeah. But the doors don’t seem to be open yet.

Shaw: Of course. After all, I just reached too. Who knew that Old Man would drag out the lesson...

MC: But what do the words on the wall mean? I didn’t know there was a dress code to watch the performance.

Shaw: You didn’t actually wear business attire over, did you?

Shaw’s laughter of ridicule drifts to my ear. Slightly angry, I grip the phone tightly.

MC: If you keep laughing, I’m leaving!

Shaw: Tch, try to leave if you can. All right, wait where you are.

Shaw pauses, and the soft sound of breathing can be heard from the other end of the line. He seems to be stretching.

Shaw: I’ll pick you up.

Because of the way I’m dressed, a few staff members I walk past along the corridor to the break room can’t help but cast sidelong glances at me.

Entering the break room, I discover that there isn’t a single person inside.

MC: Eh, where are the other band members?

Shaw: They’re still on the way.

Shaw closes the door, then lies down on the sofa lazily. I once again check the time.

MC: But the performance is starting in half an hour. Don’t you guys need to rehearse?

Shaw: We’ve been prepared since a long time ago. Heading straight to the stage afterwards is fine. Come to think of it...

He tilts his head, looking me over.

Shaw: This is the first time I’m seeing someone wear business attire to watch a performance.

MC: The fact that I could rush over already means a lot. Be contented.

Shaw: In that case, prepare yourself to be “saluted” by others later.

I lower my head to look at my outfit. It truly doesn’t suit the crowd.

Also, since there are so many people today, it wouldn’t be convenient to move around later on.

Just as I furrow my brows in vexation, Shaw suddenly speaks.

Shaw: Hey, I have a suggestion.

Meeting his mischievous gaze, a bad feeling arises in my heart.

MC: ...what are you planning to do?

Shaw: Since I didn’t notify you in advance, I thought of an idea.

He suddenly stands up and walks towards the wardrobe at the side.

After rifling through it for a while, Shaw takes out a black coloured leather jacket.

Shaw: Try it.

MC: ...is this yours?

Shaw: Why do you care about so many things? Just try it on.

I take the jacket from him. Skeptical, I bring it to my nose to give it a sniff - it has a faint peppermint scent. Looks like it’s pretty clean.

Watching my actions, Shaw gives me a subtle look, and releases a soft “hmph”.

Shaw: If you don’t want to wear it, forget it.

MC: Who says I’m not wearing it.

I snatch the jacket back. Although there are still some concerns in my heart, I can’t be picky considering the current circumstances.

The jacket is a little large, and hangs on my body loosely. However, it’s able to cover my short shirt.

MC: How’s this?

Shaw: The way you’re dressed...

Shaw pauses, then chuckles softly.

Shaw: Looks pretty punk.

MC: I never thought watching a performance would be so troublesome... Why did you guys suddenly think of having a theme?

Shaw: Because it’s fun.

Shaw responds instantly.

Shaw: People who watch the performances range from working adults to students - all sorts of people. But after changing their outfits, no one will care about their identity. Before music, nobody’s different.

I look at Shaw, a little surprised. I originally thought this activity was just a spur of the moment for them, and didn’t expect that there’d be such a meaning behind it.

Just when I’m about to say something, the lights above my head suddenly flicker.

MC: What happened? Is there a problem with the lights?

With a glance, Shaw answers indifferently.

Shaw: The voltage isn’t stable, that's all.

Before I can probe further, a series of knocks come at the door. A staff member opens the door, and tells Shaw--

Staff: Get ready, the performance is about to begin.

In Live House, there are a mass of bobbing heads as the restless crowd congregate near the stage.

After a short while, I’m pushed to the back.

MC: Do I have to squeeze through the crowd...

Looking at the crowd before me, which is so packed till there isn’t a single crevice, I'm at my wit’s end, and stand in place.

Man A: That bass player is quite interesting. My girlfriend likes him a lot.

Man B: Oh? You’re very magnanimous. Not jealous?

Man A: She just appreciates his musical abilities. He plays really well. See for yourself later.

The conversation between the two man standing in front of me drifts over to my ears. I can’t help but laugh.

If Shaw knew how he was being commented on, I wonder what he’d think of it.

I whip out my phone, taking a few pictures of the scene.

“There are so many people here today! Seems like quite a number of them are here for you.”

After penning my text message, I send it to Shaw along with the photos.

The performance is about to begin. Despite thinking he wouldn’t reply, my phone suddenly vibrates.

A sentence flashes on the screen.

Shaw’s message: Why are you so far behind?

After a few seconds, another message appears.

Shaw’s message: Don’t move around. I’ll look for you later.

I’m just about to reply. At this moment, the lights extinguish. The entire venue dives into pitch darkness, and the background music stops.

Without the hyping up of a host, and along with a flurry of shrieks, the band members enter the stage.

Purple light streams down slowly, shrouding the entire stage together with faint mist.

Shaw walks in last, his steps indolent. But his figure is tall, straight, and proud.

He hangs the bass over himself casually. Exchanging a glance with his bandmates, his fingertips flit across the strings lightly.

Along with the first sound from the drums, the performance officially begins.

Without unnecessary cushioning or embellishments, the music goes straight to the theme. The rapid and fierce melody propels the hearts of everyone to beat along with the rhythm and notes.

I’m standing below the stage, my eyes fixed on the people above it.

Just like the first time I watched him perform, I almost forget to breathe in the midst of the shocking music.

Shaw’s fingers fly back and forth on the strings. He is so skilled in his techniques that even if you were to keep your eyes wide open, you wouldn’t be able to see how he moves his fingers clearly.

The lights and shadows intersperse like an illusion. He sways along with the rhythm, the light in his eyes even fiercer than the swift melody from his fingertips.

I grip the jacket on me. In the crowd - as what Shaw said - I have forgotten my own identity in this very moment.

Just like a normal rock lover, I can’t help but raise my hands in the air.

The climax gradually nears, and the entire crowd waits for the explosive point, their insuppressible shrieks surfacing one after the other.

At this point, the lights hanging on stage suddenly release a “PA” sound, and sparks appear in the air.

The audience in the front row cry out in alarm. The lights continuously flicker, and the buzzing sound of electricity can be heard.

Audience A: !! Did something happen?

Audience B: Seems like a problem with the lights. Could this be a stage malfunction...

People on and off the stage seem to notice this unforeseen event, and chaos erupts in the venue.

Suppressing the panic in my heart, I lift my head to look at Shaw.

In the middle of the flickering lights, I see a bewildered expression on his face too.

After a moment, he seems to think of something. He suddenly lifts his eyes and looks at the audience, his probing glance sweeping across them.

My heart jolts. Subconsciously, I give him a wave.

The surroundings are filled with the clamour of people. After sweeping past numerous profiles, Shaw’s eyes fall on me.

The moment our eyes meet, his frown smoothens out. Under the ever-changing lights and shadows, he reveals a flamboyant smile.

Shaw: Scared?

What’s there to be afraid of? Baffled, I shake my head.

Shaw holds back his smile for a moment, and he seems to be making a soft “tch” sound.

The crowd is still in chaos. Quite a number of them even squeeze towards the entrance, planning to leave the venue.

A staff wearing a name-tag is currently maintaining order in front. My eyes brighten, and I hurriedly squeeze myself over to him.

MC: Hello! The lights have been flickering, and I think it could be because the circuit over there has some issues.

Staff: All right, thank you!

The clamour from the crowd seems to cover the music. I lift my eyes to look at Shaw, and discover that he’s currently staring at the flickering lights, and I can’t tell what he’s thinking about.

Suddenly, he lifts his hand, and a bright light reflects from the pick between his fingers.

Shaw: Hey, catch up!

He steps on the pedal, matching the rhythm of the flickering lights. A few band members start to react.

The drummer raises his drumsticks in the air, tapping them together a few times. The band members exchange glances, cooperating with the rhythm to commence a spontaneous performance.

When the audience notice that the performance is continuing, they start cheering enthusiastically. Without realising it, I also start to cheer.

Shaw pulls out the wire connected to the bass. He walks to the side of the stage, his gaze sweeping across the crowd slowly.

He stretches out his index finger, pointing at the most raucous part of his audience, his eyes burning with fiery light.

The mood of the audience is instantly ignited, and they respond to him with gestures.

Shaw takes two steps back. Then, he turns around fiercely, jumping into the air.

At this moment, the hanging coloured balls open and countless ribbons drift downwards.

The glaring lights stop flickering, and they are all focused on Shaw.

Standing at the back, I see Shaw being lifted by the crowd. Along with the surge of the crowd, he draws closer to me.

The performance on the stage continues. The turbulent music excites every single cell in one’s body in an unparalleled manner.

The performance reaches its peak, and everyone excitedly waves their hands in the air. It’s as though the earlier incident was nothing more than for performance effect.

Shaw and I exchange glances. Even though we’re separated by the crowd, he looks at me with an unbridled smile.

My heartbeat speeds up in my chest along with the sound of the drums.

The thin coat of sweat on his collarbones, his intense gaze, and that hand reaching towards me--

All of them render me unable to avert my gaze.

In the break room, I shut the door, cutting myself off from the merriment outside.

With twenty minutes left for the performance, Shaw suddenly handed his bass to me, and asked me to wait for him in the break room.

I look around my surroundings, but don’t see Shaw.

MC: Why is he always like this - deciding things for himself...

I sigh softly, looking at the bass in my arms. My mind flashes back to images of him performing.

I can't help but raise my hand. Based on the melody in my recollection, I try plucking on the strings, humming the tune softly.

??: Hey, you’re out of tune.

I jolt. Turning around, I meet Shaw’s sly gaze.

MC: ...didn’t you manage to recognise what I was playing? It shows that I’m not lacking in talent.

Lowering my head, I continue strumming the strings in indignation. But my wrist is suddenly grabbed from behind.

Shaw: You can use one finger to pluck the strings. That way, the timbre will be more even.

Before realising it, Shaw is already standing behind me. I feel his breath on my ear, and it carries the same fresh peppermint scent as the jacket on me.

I pause, then follow his advice on how to play the bass, realising that there’s indeed an evident change in the timbre.

Shaw: How is it? Isn’t it much better?

Before I can respond, footsteps are heard at the door.

In the next second, the door is pushed open. A band member enters, teasing him good-naturedly.

??: Shaw, are you able to rush your assignment before the deadline...

His voice suddenly halts. The moment he sees me, a few band members freeze.

When they notice the jacket on me, their expressions abruptly change, looking as though they’ve seen a ghost.

Adam: Isn’t that...

Jensen: All right, let’s not disturb their interaction and studies.

Jensen’s voice is genial. A few of them who tacitly understand his words start laughing.

Jensen: Shaw, catch!

A silver coloured object flies in an arc through the air, and a set of keys fall squarely in Shaw’s hand.

Jensen: We’re off. Remember to lock the doors.

In the blink of an eye, they’re all gone.

MC: Is there something about this jacket?

Shaw rolls his eyes, walking over to the side to tidy up.

Shaw: Don’t bother about them. Let’s go.

There’s nobody in the main hall of Live House - a complete opposite of the lively atmosphere just now.

The loudspeakers and musical instruments on the stage have yet to be kept. A sole spotlight is turned on, and messy electrical cables are on the floor.

Thinking about the nice yet interrupted new song just now, a faint sense of regret surfaces in my heart.

MC: Shaw, could you play the bass again?

Shaw pauses in his footsteps. He turns his head to look at me, his expression baffled.

MC: That new song today - you only played it halfway before having to stop. I want to hear you play the full song.

Shaw: Right now? You really know how to order people around. Forget it, I'm in a good mood today. Wait here.

Shaw: Wait here.

He tosses his bag at me, then takes large strides to the front, hopping up onto the stage.

He picks up the bass casually. Plugging the wire in, he lowers his eyes and sweeps a glance at me.

Shaw: This time, you’ve got to listen carefully.

With this, a melody gradually flows from his fingertips.

Although it’s the same song, it’s different from his performance earlier. He plays every beat unhurriedly, his posture casual and relaxed.

I’m sitting on the floor, quietly listening to the low sounds of the bass, humming along with the music.

The timbre of the bass beneath his fingers is low and unruly. The occasional pauses and increases in speed are reminiscent of himself and how he does things as he pleases.

There’s a strange tugging of my emotions as memories of the past echo--

A very long time ago, underneath similar dim lights, I had watched Shaw’s performance for the first time.

I tug on the jacket over me, immersing myself in my thoughts, not noticing that Shaw has furrowed his brows above the stage, slightly upset.

Shaw places the bass to the side, then suddenly jumps off the stage.

MC: !

The thud of his feet making contact with the ground pulls me back to the present.

Amid the blurry lights and shadows, the image of him hopping off the stage and the image before me overlap.

In the quiet evening without a restless crowd, Shaw walks towards me, every step especially clear.

He stops before me. I lift my head to look at him, but am caught off guard when he flicks my forehead.

MC: Ah!

Shaw: You couldn’t keep your eyes off me when there were many people around. Why do you start losing focus when there are fewer people?

Shaw: Tch, you don’t know how to cherish this.

His face is within reach. My heart beats erratically in my chest once again, just like it did when he was surfing the crowd towards me.

MC: When was I unable to keep my eyes off you...

Shaw arches his brows, his expression reading: “Don’t even think of denying it”.

MC: I was just wondering why you thought of hopping off the stage earlier.

Shaw: What?

MC: Just now, during the performance. If you had waited for the staff to fix the lights, you wouldn’t have needed to go through such trouble, right?

MC: Also, do you like getting off the stage like that? Isn’t it good to use the stairs?

Shaw: But it’s cooler like this.

Shaw’s tone is confident, and the corners of my lips tug upwards involuntarily.

Shaw: Also, this time is different from before.

MC: How so?

Shaw: It isn’t an accident this time.

He takes the bag in my hands, then walks towards the entrance.

Shaw: Why are you still standing there? Let’s go.

The streets in the wee hours of the morning are tranquil and empty. The streetlights outside Live House cast small, round halos.

Shaw doesn’t speak. A lively melody drifts from his earpieces, and he’s humming a certain song from his band softly.

Shaw: Hey, your car’s here.

I nod, my eyes falling on the skateboard beneath his arm.

MC: You don’t plan to ride the skateboard home today?

Shaw: The board needs waxing. Oh yes, remember to share your location with me when you’re in the car.

We bid each other goodbye with a wave, and I enter the car. With the clinking sound of metal buttons, I realise that I’m still wearing that black coloured jacket.

I roll down the window, and exclaim at him.

MC: Shaw, thanks for your jacket!

Shaw appears to pause in his steps. After a while, he lifts his hand and waves it in the air casually. He doesn’t turn around, carrying the bass.

Shaw: Remember to wash it before returning it to me next time.

Moonlight falls on the ends of his hair, coating it with a tender halo. Shaw steps into the tranquil night, and it seems like his footsteps have become slightly lighter.

🎸 MOMENTS 🎸

Shaw’s Post: The first time seeing someone wearing business attire to watch a performance.

MC: You’ve already said it once!

Shaw: Saying it twice isn’t enough to express my surprise.

Shaw’s Post: The first time seeing someone wearing business attire to watch a performance

MC: And with high-heels. My feet were close to giving up when I reached home...

Shaw: You should have mentioned it earlier. I have a pair of shoes in the break room.

Shaw’s Post: The first time seeing someone wearing business attire to watch a performance

MC: Are you touched? To watch your performance, I didn’t even have the time to change my clothes.

Shaw: A little. Hope you can continue in your efforts the next time.

Phone call: here

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc shaw #there's a reason why shaw once overthrew gavin's top spot in my heart hnghgnhg #charismatic little brat

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foilfreak · 3 years ago

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BEAUTY AND HER BEAST: Chapter 8

WARNING PLZ READ BEFORE CONTINUING: This fic is rated NSFW and contains graphic depictions of things some people may find disturbing or alarming, including, but not limited to: violence, gore, unhealthy family relationships, Oedipus complexes, gratuitous amount of pornographic literature, ableist language, physical, mental, and emotional abuse, etc. If you are someone who does not enjoy fiction with these elements in them, then I suggest you refrain from reading this, because this fic will have all that, and probably a lot more. So, this is your first and final warning to turn around and go somewhere else if stuff like this just isn't your vibe, because from this point forward, your emotional wellbeing is in your own hands, and I will not be accepting blame if you disregarded my warnings and ended up reading something you didn't like. Idk why I feel compelled to write one of these despite this being Resident Evil fanfic, but I figured I'd cover my ass just in case.

(AO3 Link Below:)

Several days had passed since Salvatore had sought out both his younger sisters, requesting items like jewelry or clothing they’d be willing to part with that Salvatore could gift to Nadine, as a sort of soft and informal introduction to ease the young woman’s mind and prove he meant her no harm.

The plan seems to be going rather well, as far as Salvatore can tell. Nadine found the gifts he’d laid out for her rather easily, and even correctly wondered if the person who lived here had left them for her purposefully. She seemed wary of the items for a time, though she seemed pretty wary of everything in the reservoir at the moment, but eventually she deemed them safe enough to accept, throwing the long white nightgown Salvatore had procured from Donna over her petit azure frame, and strapping the delicate golden locket Alcina had graciously donated around her neck.

Salvatore practically drooled when he first saw Nadine, slightly sheer satin nightgown flowing elegantly in the gentle afternoon breeze and golden chain glittering beautifully against her white speckled, ocean blue skin. She looked like a goddess, a true figure of pure ethereal power and beauty. Even the biting cold of winter wasn’t enough to touch the young woman, shielded and protected by her own glowing radiance.

Despite looking every bit like an other-worldly deity worthy of unending human devotion and worship, Nadine’s face held nothing but fear, anxiety, and loneliness as she aimlessly wandered the seemingly empty docks and windmills surrounding the reservior’s watery interior. An occasional dejected “hello?” still echoes out throughout the reservoir every few hours, growing less and less hopeful with each passing round of silence Salvatore spends hiding away from view.

The disfigured man’s heart twists and stabs in pain every time he cowers away from Nadine’s soft, anxious calls, desperately wanting to comfort the young woman in her moment of confusion and fear, but still so terrified of her inevitable reaction to his appearance that he finds himself unable to do anything but skitter shamefully to his room beneath the surface and try to drown her out with one of his old romance films.

How pitiful.

Salvatore spends much of his time lamenting and pitying himself over his soul crushing loneliness and his intense desire for a love of his own, and yet here he is, taking refuge in an old romance film while he hides himself away from the real woman he could be making his own romance film with, were he not a massive coward and a horrific freak of nature unworthy of anyone’s love and affection, of course. What a cruel irony it is, to have the one thing you want, more than anything else in the world, dangled just inches in front of your face, and yet knowing, before you’ve even tried, that it’ll never be yours.

Salvatore knows that no matter how much of a romance story this whole situation might seem like, Nadine will never be able to love him in the way the gorgeous women in the movies love their tall, dashing, dark-haired lover men. Not only was Salvatore the exact opposite of tall and dashing by literally everyone’s standards, but his patches of dry, greasy dark-hair did little to salvage the violent wreckage that was Salvatore’s whole appearance.

There was absolutely no way Nadine would ever be able to love someone as hideous as Salvatore, so perhaps the best thing to do would be to contact Miranda and inform her that, while he greatly enjoyed his gift, Salvatore didn’t feel he would be able to appreciate her in the way she deserved to be appreciated in all her beauty and wonder, and that perhaps it would be better for Mother Miranda to find better arrangements for her elsewhere.

“I-it’s for the b-best… i-i think… a-after all… Nadine… d-doesn’t want t-to live i-in a d-dingy place… l-like this for… for the r-rest of h-her… l-life… m-much less with… w-with someone l-like me… s-she’d hate th-that… im c-certain” Salvatore laments aloud, dipping his head downward as tears of painful realization and sorrowful acceptance pour down his face like waterfalls of lonely depression, already fully set on contacting Mother Miranda as soon as morning came.

“While it's very kind of you to keep my best interest in mind, I do think I am more than capable of making my own decisions regarding what’s the best place for me, thank you very much” a soft voice responded suddenly, causing Salvatore’s head to whip in the direction the sound was coming from in startled shock. “This place is a little rundown, sure, but the windmills still stand tall and the water is always just the right temperature, so I don’t think this would be the worst place to live, if I had to… so long as I wasn’t alone, at least.”

Even in the dimly lit area located at the end of the hallway, Nadine still looked so gorgeously stunning and elegant. It was incredible how she managed to sound so casual and yet look so ethereal.

In the brief moment before his panic set in, Salvatore couldn’t help but pause and marvel at the spot down the hall where the young woman stood, her gaze locked directly onto him and yet she showed no signs of having seen him. She even went as far as to begin moving about behind the large boards that blocked her from entering the room, clearly trying to get a better look at the room and, more importantly, the person she suspects is in it.

After a surprisingly large jump that launched Nadine all the way up to the ceiling, just narrowly avoiding hitting her head, Salvatore’s eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open in stupefied shock as the sight of Nadine, moving the way she was at the end of the hallway, brought to Salvatore’s mind a scene from one of his favorite romance films. In the particular scene Salvatore is thinking of, the actress’ character is an aspiring prima ballerina, and she’s having a brief moment of bonding with her fellow ballerina’s after a long, but successful performance. Dressed in a nightgown not too unlike the one Nadine is currently wearing, the ballerina is showing the others how to do other kinds of dance, like polka or Irish step dancing, but by the end of the scene the group of ballerinas are all merely jumping about the room excitedly, laughing and cheering while carelessly throwing themselves into the air, only to land gracefully back on their feet.

While not exactly the same obviously, the resemblance between Nadine and the absolutely stunning ballerina in the movie, in both silhouette and style of movement, was almost uncanny.

Stretched out as high as her short legs would allow, strong and gorgeously defined muscles flexed almost instinctually with every rapid twist, curl, bend, and jump of the young woman’s tiny body. Her lucious silhouette was only aided by the feminine aura of the long, sheer nightgown as it trailed after her with every movement. The delicate satin material caresses the sharp ridges of her muscular back and shoulders with the same tenderness and love as it does the weight of her breasts or the pillowy layer of protection atop her midsection. The lower half of the nightgown, cinched just below the breasts, twisted and jerked in whatever direction was necessary to keep up with the speed at which Nadine was fluttering and jumping about upon the tips of her toes. Her legs were hidden by the ferocious speed of her movements, but Salvatore did not need to see her legs to have some idea of what they were, or perhaps merely could be, capable of.

Whether or not Nadine was actually a ballerina herself, or if Salvatore’s delusions were merely that realistic now, the young woman appeared to move with nothing but effortless grace that hides the raw power and physical strength it takes to float as carelessly and as quickly as the young woman was, clearly growing more and more frustrated the longer her search failed to reveal what she was looking for.

Still paralyzed by the sudden presence of Nadine in his personal space, Salvatore could do nothing but hold his breath and hope that the light at the end of the hall didn’t reach far enough to reveal his presence in the room. The TV was still on, but the movie playing on it had finished running long ago, meaning the only thing being displayed now was a static filled screen that proved someone had been here at some point in time, but thankfully wasn’t a dead giveaway from the start.

“Helloooooooo… I heard someone talking on my way in, so I know that someone is down here. Please… just come out, ok… I won’t hurt you… honestly” the raven haired woman begs softly, her movements slowing a bit to allow more of her air to be used for speaking rather than jumping to look over beams over and over again.

Salvatore’s heart ached at Nadine’s desperate tone, knowing all too well what the mutant woman is going through right now, but trying his best to remain strong, since giving in means dooming this perfect young specimen to a life of bitter misery and unending terror, regardless of the best effort he’d try to put in. Whatever short term gain Nadine could get from being with him would only come back to bleed her dry once Salvatore was sufficiently attached, and therefore unable to allow her to leave once she inevitably decides that she’s had enough of pretending to love a disgusting freak of nature.

Salvatore had never been very good at accurately predicting the outcomes of situations, but he knew for certain that Nadine was in no way deserving of the hellish punishment that living in the reservoir with him would undoubtedly become, if it didn’t start out that way from the beginning, that is. Perhaps the young woman could convince herself to accept her situation and play into his affections as a means of survival for a short time, but based on what he’s heard of Nadine thus far, Salvatore doubts such a strongwilled and dangerous woman would allow herself to play wife and sex slave to anyone for very long. If she didn’t somehow successfully murder him in his sleep within the first 48 hours of her “slavery”, it would only be a matter of time before she finally ran out of patience and unleashed... whatever the hell it was she did back in the labs, upon him.

For a brief moment, Salvatore entertains the question of whether Nadine could potentially be strong enough to take him out with a single hit, as well as whether that thought should be something he finds arousing or not. His thoughts are quickly interrupted however, by the sound of shuffling and grunting, and upon turning his head toward the sudden racket, Salvatore is horrified to see Nadine, just small enough to fit her tiny body between the thin cracks of the boarded up wall, attempting to climb through the barrier, and enter the TV room.

Body shaking and voice beginning to tremble slightly, alongside his already labored breathing, Salvatore unsteadily backed his way further into the room, putting his hands out in front of him as if to try and stop Nadine from entering, though he makes no move to physically eject the invading woman himself, oddly enough.

“N-nooo… p-please… don’t come i-in...” Salvatore stutters helplessly, shrinking further in on himself in fear as the young woman effortlessly slips through the wooden boards like a slippery eel, quickly and easily landing on her feet before turning back to the mostly darkened room.

“H-Hello?” Nadine calls out again nervously, taking a tentative step forward, both hands extended outward beside her until her left hand made contact with the wall. Gaining some purchase on the vertical slabs of wood, Nadine slowly turns her head to look about the room, carefully inspecting everything from atop the surface of Salvatore’s messy desk, to the very dark corner in the back right of the room that Salvatore himself was currently shoved as far into as physically possible.

Nadine stuck her arm out in front of her and began slowly walking toward the opposite wall, eyes open, but unfocused, and right hand waving aimlessly in the air for a brief moment, as though trying to feel around for the other wall despite it clearly being right in front of her. The hooded man had no idea how she hadn’t seen him yet, he could practically feel how absolutely ridiculous he looked, his bony, weathered, turtle-esque body hunched as low to the ground as possible with his chin tucked between his knees and hands covering the rest of his face, leaving only the smallest bit of space through which he could observe Nadine’s inevitable reaction to him. And yet, despite the amount of time the young woman spent glancing over Salvatore, back and forth across the room, her bright golden eyes resembling that of a ravenous alligator in their intensity and ferociousness, no scream left her plush lips nor did fear and horror suddenly mar her supple face. In fact, not only had the mutant woman not seen him yet, but it was in that exact moment that the reason why Nadine couldn’t see Salvatore, obviously shoved into the corner, just to her bottom left, became immediately clear to him.

“Y-You’re blind...”

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notthelatin · 4 years ago

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This is the House We Get Murdered In: The Ritual (2017)

The first time I saw David Bruckner’s 2017 monster movie The Ritual I liked it a lot. The second time I watched it I fell head-over-heels so hard that I decided to just start a blog so I’d have somewhere to deliver this dang sermon. If you’re on the fence, and you like monsters, or creepy forests, or just really good character writing, go watch it. If you still need some convincing, read on.

There’s a thing that happens in horror sometimes, where the building of tension supersedes the building of character. I get it, I do, they’re trying to scare us, and sometimes they get so focused on threatening the people on the screen that they forget to make us care about the people on the screen. Horror that emphasizes thrills over depth can be fun, can even strike terror if it’s good enough, but it’s harder to inspire real horror when your audience isn’t sure why they should care in the first place. Sometimes, in acknowledgment of this, a movie shoehorns in a little monologue just before the climax, in the hopes that it will inspire us to suddenly love this person enough to care when their face is bitten off in the next scene. The Ritual is a movie that seeks not just to avoid that particular narrative sin, but to avenge the audiences that have fallen victim to it. And holy shit, do I feel avenged.

Never mind that the setting is gorgeous, that the sound design is stellar, that the dream sequences are my favorite of any movie I’ve ever seen. I could tell you that the performances are all believable and touching, and that the monster design is the most unique I’ve seen in years.

But what I NEED to tell you about is the writing.

This movie spends its entirety rendering a careful, thoughtful portrait of its four main characters. Four men in the early half of middle age, Hutch, Phil, Dom, and Luke, on a multi-day hike through Scandinavia. It’s a trip their friend Rob wanted to take before he died. They’re here to memorialize him.

Every interaction and every scrap of dialogue between these four is beautifully intentional. Every joke or offhand comment is there to tell you about one of these men, or about their history together, and none of it feels extraneous. When they find a spooky cabin in the woods, one quips “This is clearly the house we get murdered in”. His friend shoots back: “not as bad as our uni accommodations”.

This is the only mention of their time in university. A movie that trusted its audience less might treat us to a flashback of their freshman hall, or a stiffly recounted anecdote about how they all met. The Ritual knows that we don’t need anything more. We know that these men, who are at the stage of life where they’re moving from benders to brunches, have been friends since college, since they were barely more than kids. It’s a world of history rendered in a single joke line, and it feels natural, it feels genuine. Every decision in this movie is made with the same care- from the jokes they make at one another’s expense, to the way they react to the growing tension of knowing they aren’t alone in the woods, to the ways they comfort themselves and one another when things start to go wrong.

There’s a scene where they’re marching, hungry, though the woods, daydreaming about the meals they want when they reach safety. Amidst conversations about steak and red wine, Dom announces that what he REALLY wants is a “McDonalds burger, on a metal tray, eaten alone”. It’s played for laughs, but it also tells us exactly what kind of man Dom is in one line.This is a man who chooses quick, emotionally satisfying, nutritionally empty solutions to his problems, and doesn’t care if it isolates him. Later, when he decides, in a fit of frustration, to march away down a random path that’s heading in a different direction than the one they need to go, completely alone, we BELIEVE him. This is not a random panic decision, or a stupid unrealistic plot choice made by writers who wanted to get their characters lost at any cost. That path is a McDonalds burger, and he’s happy to eat it by himself. Similarly, blame is the cheap, easy solution that Dom turns to in his grief. Dom is angry and in pain over the loss of his friend Rob, and blaming someone is the easiest way to make the pain more bearable, even if it means pushing a living friend away. It’s quick, it’s easy, it feels good. It doesn’t bring Rob back.

The visuals in this movie are striking in a way that something so sparse shouldn’t be able to pull off. The colors are desaturated, the lighting is a uniform diffuse, overcast gray. And yet, when weird shit happens, that pared down approach lends itself to a certain shocked surreality. The signature quick-cuts and zooms we find sometimes in monster movies aren’t here in the Swedish forest. When there’s something terrible to see, we just see it, full screen, steady cam, quiet. It’s worse that way, somehow. Like the characters, we can look away, but that doesn’t mean the terrible thing is gone, and the daylight doesn’t soften anything.

The only missteps I found in this movie are towards its climax. The terror has been ramping up in such a satisfying way, and we’ve spent so much time in the quiet, measured, tense isolation of the forest, that when the setting changes to something man-made it feels almost mundane. We’re not sure whether to be terrified or sort of relieved. In the midst of some excellent character development, a nameless Swedish hillbilly wanders in seemingly just to mutter exposition? This is how the movie decides to tell us just what’s been stalking the woods all this time. The scene is brief, but in a movie that’s so careful, almost miserly, with the information it gives us, even that feels like a clumsy info dump. The character motivation for divulging this information isn’t very clear, and honestly, the writer’s motivation isn’t either. It seems like, for just a minute, the director stopped trusting us. “We can’t let an audience draw ALL the conclusions, can we? I’ll just spell this one out”.

Ultimately, that brief stumble before the (excellent) climactic scene doesn’t really detract from the movie. The Ritual is a smart, thoughtful, careful character portrait, and a touching exploration of grief, guilt, and the ways that we find to forgive ourselves and each other. It’s about standing up, sticking together, and moving forward.

Also, the monster kicks every ass. 10/10

#The Ritual #Horror #Horror Movie #Horror Movies #Monster #Ritual #Review #Monster Movie #Horror movie reviews

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desidarling123 · 4 years ago

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FATWS Episode 4: A Definitive* Rank Ordering of Most Interesting Character Arcs, from Yours Truly

(*And by definitive I mean completely subjective, but yanno.)

IF YOU HAVEN'T FIGURED IT OUT BY NOW: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR FATWS. SCROLL AWAY NOW IF YOU DON'T WANT EM.

Now let's get into it:

1. John Walker

Let me start by saying -- the near-universal John Walker hate from fandom has always been largely undeserved, and that's a hill I'll die on. It comes out of, I think, a visceral sort of need to slot him into an easily understood black-or-white binary when, truthfully, he is neither, and I think this episode was the BEST example of that. The sheer range he exhibits in such a short time -- a handful of character moments and action sequences in the larger fifty minute episode -- serve to humanize him in a way that's messy and intense and very, very real.

Because MAN. Whether you were already sympathetic to John's plight or not, the death of his partner, Lemar Hoskins, is viscerally disturbing. There's no other way to put it. FATWS has not shied away from some pretty crazy onscreen kills, but this one was arguably the worst in how brutally mundane it was. Lemar was in the wrong place at the wrong time -- a man fighting amongst a whole room of super soldiers. He never stood a chance -- and yet, he still jumped in harm's way to save his best friend, a man in whom he saw indisputable goodness, even when the man could not see it himself. There's an obvious Steve/Bucky parallel here, but with a much darker and more realistic twist -- not all of us, after all, can be lucky enough to receive super strength that could save our lives. Lemar was always a regular mortal -- and for that transgression, he pays the ultimate price.

And then. What happens after. Oh. My. God. I felt Walker's rage and hopelessness through the screen. The death of that Flag Smasher -- at the hands of Captain America, no less, a man he'd admitted to admiring as a child not ten minutes earlier -- was brilliantly executed.

With the final shot of the townspeople recording the brutal murder it becomes overwhelmingly clear -- we are witnessing the tragic fall of a man who was, for all his previous missteps, trying to be a hero. But John's moral compass just died a meaningless, horrible death -- and without him by his side, Walker has become a man unhinged.

2. Bucky Barnes and Ayo

I debated putting this one at number two because I'd argue there were some weird elements to the writing choices made (more on that in a sec), but, nevertheless. Bucky and Ayo get slot #2.

That flashback to Wakanda got me excited, but I didn't expect my heart to get shattered almost right away. Oh. My. God. His interactions with Ayo BROKE ME. There's so much nuance in a scene that’s incredibly well-acted by both Sebastian and Florence — you see both of them in a moment that is incredibly pivotal for the former’s character, and we see the latter reacting with sympathy, strength, and enormous grace. I had expected a scene like this to be with Shuri (given that we last saw her with Bucky in the post credits of Black Panther) but, given the context of what was being performed (a final test of the trigger words) having Ayo there made a lot of sense. She could take him down if need be — but as the scene so wonderfully shows, thankfully, she doesn’t have to. Instead, she’s there to let him know that for the first time in almost a century, he’s free again.

Now, let’s get into some of the unevenness. I had hoped, at the end of the last episode, that Bucky had at least informed the Dora Milaje of his liaison with Zemo — that, perhaps, it had been Bucky’s intent to hand him over all along. Alas, that was not the case — Bucky, it seems, had broken Zemo out with little thought to — or perhaps simply silent acceptance of — the consequences that would come with it.

This is the part, again, where the writing felt a bit weak. We know from the opening shots of the episode that Bucky cares enormously for Ayo — they’re not simply soldiers in arms, but they’ve shared a moment of immense vulnerability together. We ALSO know that he cares enormously for T’Challa, for Shuri, and for Wakanda as a country (see Infinity War, where he says “I love this place” in reference to his new home).

So that begs the question — why? Why did he betray them in that way, besides sheer desperation for a lead? And it’s not one, I’d argue, that we are given a satisfying answer to. Bucky has been reckless to an alarming degree in the last few episodes, but not informing Wakanda of his intention to liaise with the man who killed their king feels like a MAJOR tactical oversight. Is he willing to burn everything down to win this battle against the Flag Smashers? Are these his self destructive tendencies kicking in? OR, is he just truly so blinded by his emotions surrounding his past that he’s willing to throw away what could very well be his future? Only time will tell. But I hope he’ll do right by Ayo and Wakanda, as he clearly has a LOT to make up for.

3. Baron Helmut Zemo

God. I love Zemo’s psychotic, problematic ass. Say what you want, but the man is the most efficient of them all and he isn't a super soldier or an Avenger. Over and over, he shows that he's truly smarter than them and always has been.

He doesn't get personal. He doesn’t get distracted. He knows exactly what his goal is, and he executes on it. Mans didn’t hesitate to unload several bullets into Karli, and as soon as he figured out what the vials were, he destroyed all except one. Like I said, the most efficient person on the team. Has arguably done more to forward the cause against the Flag Smashers/continued existence of super soldiers than anyone else and it’s only been a few days. Between that, his god-awful dancing skills and him shooting the eugenicist scientist without so much as a blink of an eye, I think he's a man after my own heart. I’m almost sad to see him get what’s coming for him come next episode. (Because y’all, he did still kill King T’Chaka, and there’s no way the Dora leave here without taking him out on a silver platter and an apple stuffed in his mouth). But again, let’s see how that pans out.

4. Sam Wilson

WHAT are the writers doing to Sam, I swear to God? We didn't get too much introspection into where his head's at during this episode, and when we did the treatment felt uneven at best. I think, in trying to have him create a rapport with Karli, the writers have created some areas of commonality that didn’t always translate as they’d like. It was also weird to see Sam swinging from the well-earned cynicism of the previous two episodes to the sort of wide-eyed optimism Steve used to portray. Perhaps that was simply to try and show Karli an alternative, but as the episode showed, she clearly wasn't buying (though, in Sam’s defense, he came pretty close).

Something about Sam’s characterization in this episode didn’t really do it for me — I would argue episode one and two were both stronger in that regard. Nevertheless, I’m hopeful that they’ll correct it in the next one.

5. Karli Morgenthau

Her treatment is arguably the worst of them all. She is young, yeah, but she oscillates at an alarming rate between spouting class discourse that, by this episode, feels largely derivative (like someone scrolled on Twitter and put a bunch of keywords together in hopes of evoking an emotional audience response) and homicidal tendencies that show a brutal yet fundamentally messy underpinning. Unlike Zemo, she is still too easily confounded, and that will come to bite her in the ass sooner rather than later. (See: The Power Broker)

Perhaps I'm meant to be rooting for her on some degree but I really can't -- she's cruel and sloppy, which I cannot forgive.

Oh, and she killed Lemar Hoskins and threatened Sarah Wilson. Yikes.

Overall Episode Takeaway: A lot of shocking moments and great acting beats for everyone involved (arguably some of the best of the series thus far), but the weakness of the writing does crop up in parts. Whether they'll be corrected for going forward is to be determined...

UP NEXT: Meta pieces for Sam, Bucky, John, and Zemo all in the works!

#fatws #tfatws #sam wilson #bucky barnes #john walker #fatws spoilers #tfatws spoilers #tfatws meta #karli morgenthau

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jokertrap-ran · 4 years ago

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(未定事件簿) EVENT! 「眷然恋影」 [Tears of Themis] EVENT: Zuo Ran Birthday 2021- Days to Re-Live Forever (4.22: Dubbing Contest)

*Tears of Themis Masterlist / Mobile Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Will also be filed under Zuo Ran’s tag #Tears of a Lawyer *The tracking tag for ALL Event Stories will go under: #Tears of an Event

4.18 / 4.20 / 4.22 / 4.24 / 4.26 Messages / Investigations / Call

Location: The Film Museum

MC: "You really like me?"

MC: "Even my clothes?"

Zuo Ran: "I like your clothes."

MC: "And my hair. Isn't it too… Brown?"

Zuo Ran: "I like brown."

……

Zuo Ran and I were currently participating in the Film Museum's Holo-dubbing Contest. Granted, the reason why I participated in it was to nab more volunteer points.

MC: (Lawyer Zuo's really handling it in stride. Looks like I'm guaranteed to get the points this time round!)

The set still required a large window mural, and I'd get enough points to redeem it so long as I win this contest.

MC: (I never thought that he'd agree without a moment's hesitation when I told him that I wanted to try dubbing.)

The holographic projection recreated the scene of the male and female leads of "About Time", displaying it in all its glory and providing us with an immersive dubbing experience.

This clip included both the first meeting of the hero and the heroine, and the scene where they met again before starting to date each other. It was an edited version filled with scenes that I'd specially picked out.

Zuo Ran's voice was warm and tender, as if he really was the male protagonist in the film.

Initially, I was a little nervous; but I'd gradually relaxed under the influence of his voice.

MC: (The next line will be Tim's famed one; I'm really looking to see Lawyer Zuo's performance!)

In the movie, this was where the hero, Tim, had already come to the outdoor balcony, with the intention of inviting Mary, the heroine, to leave with him; Together, alone.

Zuo Ran: If… We leave now, this will only just be the beginning."

Suddenly, there was a little hesitation in his speech.

MC: ???

Although it didn't affect the rhythm of how the conversation between the duo flower, it was still slower compared to the pace he had been previously going at

I unconsciously turned to face him, only to realize that the screen of the teleprompter before him was actually pitch-black.

MC: (His teleprompter suddenly broke…?)

Surprised at the sudden turn of events, I was more than ready to call a temporary halt to the competition to get a staff member to fix his teleprompter back up.

But just a moment later, Zuo Ran's voice rang out once more. He was still continuing onwards with the dubbing.

Zuo Ran: "I like your eyes."

Zuo Ran: "And the other parts of your face."

His tender voice he used held innumerable affection. Compared to it being just a dub, this was more like… As if he was really professing his love in front of his lover.

MC: (Did he… Memorize the original script?)

As if confirming my guess, he continued on smoothly.

I saw that it was about time for my line, so I hurriedly composed myself, putting all my concentration into acting out the script.

MC: "Not just any ordinary beginning?"

Zuo Ran: "...10 beginnings that will shock an ordinary person."

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

The dubbing session successfully came to a close thanks to Zuo Ran's brilliant and immaculate performance.

MC: Lawyer Zuo, did you just… Memorize the entire script earlier?

Zuo Ran: Yes. Thankfully, I didn't err too badly.

Zuo Ran: I normally watch the original version of the movie. We had to use the translated lines instead this time, so I did a little pre-preparation.

Zuo Ran: I never thought that it'll come in this handy.

Certainly enough, he was always one to prefer the original version of things, be it a book or a movie.

MC: I see… I feel like you've managed to get a very accurate grasp on the character’s emotions; is this because you’re just really well prepared?

Zuo Ran: I suppose so. I’m not a professional voice actor, but to my understanding of things, what makes the character is what makes for a successful voice-over.

Zuo Ran: That’s why I re-watched the movie a couple more times with the aim of dubbing it in mind. I suppose that was just me, trying to rush at the very last minute to make something count.

MC: Now you’re being way too humble! Come to think of it, I feel like you’ve got quite some similarities to the male protagonist in this movie.

Zuo Ran: Similarities?

MC: Yup. The both of you are lawyers, and you both have very warm personalities.

Zuo Ran: Is that so…? Even if that’s the case, there are some traits of his that I admire.

MC: Oh?

Zuo Ran: Yes. For example, how he’s willing to travel through time again and again, suffering through the long wait that comes with each and every journey; all just so that he can meet the person he loved once more.

Zuo Ran: I admire his courage.

MC: Do you also have things you have to muster up courage to do, Lawyer Zuo?

Zuo Ran: ……Yes.

MC: Then I believe that you'll definitely be able to do it.

Zuo Ran: Eh?

MC: You’re always someone reliable to me, regardless of whether it’s something job-related, or even life matters.

MC: From solving complicated cases on one end of the spectrum, to just an ordinary dubbing contest on the other. I’d say that I feel absolutely at ease just by having you here with me.

MC: That’s why, I believe that you’ll be able to do it, regardless of what it is. You’ll be able to power through it.

MC: You’re the sort of proactive person whose actions speak more than words. Hence, I’ll always put my trust in you, Lawyer Zuo.

Zuo Ran: ……

He levelled his gaze seriously at me for a while before a smile crept up onto his face.

Zuo Ran: Okay, I won’t let you down; not when you’ve put your faith into me.

He paused, hesitating.

Zuo Ran: Actually… It wasn’t just due to habit that I’d prepared for this time’s dubbing contest all so thoroughly.

Zuo Ran: You said that you’d be able to gain a large number of points if you won this, so I decided… That I’d make you win, no matter what.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

In the end, we both won the championship, just as I’d hoped for.

First things first, I went off to exchange my points for the mural that I needed, placing it back where it was supposed to be located on the set.

☆⋅⋆…⋅─────────── ⋆⋅✾⋅⋆ ───────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Previous Part: (4.20: Questionnaire Filling) | Next Part: (4.24: Exchanging Movie Reviews)

#Tears of Themis #Zuo Ran #左然 #Translations #Otome #Mihoyo #未定事件簿 #眷然恋影 #Days to ReLive forever #Zuo Ran 2021 Birthday #Tears of a Lawyer #Tears of an Event #weiding shijian bu #tears of themis translations

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screamingatanemptyroom · 5 years ago

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Please Fix the Story pt 3 - Zombie Apocalypse

The story continues. At least one more part in the zombie world before moving on to the next one.

Part 1 / Part 2 Linked here. (If I get to 5 pts or so I’ll make a master post)

Enjoy!

_____________________________

“Why’d they let YOU in?”

An angry shout stopped us in our tracks as we reached the center of the camp.

I paused, smiling. Ah, the nostalgic smell of unnecessary internal strife. NOW it feels like a proper post apocalyptic story. I raised a hand in greeting. “Hey there, kind and pleasant person, I’m Blaire!”

“Don’t pretend like we’re friends! You shouldn’t be here!” The angry young man stepped closer, allowing me to get a better look at his face. His copper colored hair framed sharp, angular features, his brown eyes practically burning with rage as he tried his best to stare a hole through me.

He seems familiar.

Searching my character’s memories, I was finally able to place him. Jason, the hero’s best friend, who had gone to high school with my character. Before I could celebrate placing his identity, however, I felt a surge of deep terror flood through me. My heart beat wildly in my chest, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. I frowned, pushing back the feeling that weren’t my own, but those from my character.

It’s rare for emotions from the character to be this strong, even in the last world I was able to easily put away any feelings of the character I’ve taken over. Why is she so scared? I don’t see anything in her memories that would warrant her being frightened of Jason. And why is he so antagonistic towards me?

As I stood there, trying to comb through what information my character knew about him, he had continued to rant. “Eric, what were you thinking accepting people like her?!”

Eric sent Hannah away with a smile, before turning towards his friend with a tired expression. “They have extra supplies and skills, both of which we’re in desperate need of.”

“We don’t need HER!”

As they argued, Liam walked up to me, pulling an apple from his bag. “Want a snack?”

“Sure, these idiots might take a while, I’d hate to get hypoglycemic while they argue.” Before I could say anything further, he pulled out a knife and silently started cutting the peel off.

“What are you doing?”

“Peeling the apple for you.”

“Why?”

“…” He paused, looking honestly confused. “I’m not sure, but I feel like this would make you happy.”

I couldn’t help but shake my head in amazement. “I love apples, but I can’t stand the peel. How did you know?”

“Really?” He grinned, continuing to peel. “My support husband instincts must be kicking in.”

“You’re very… optimistic.”

“Thanks!”

I sighed. “Don’t get attached, Liam. It won’t end well.” I thought of the heart wrenching pain I had felt when pressing “No” in the last world. That was just after 4 weeks. If I have to stay here years…

“It’s okay. I already count myself fortunate being your lackey.” His smile was bright, but his attention to the apple never wavered. “As long as you live well. I think I could die happy.”

I shuddered. The habit was just too strong. A character casually mentioning dying in a story…such a red flag. “Try not to die. Happy or otherwise.”

“Yes ma’am.” He saluted, his silly expression making me feel less tense.

“Blaire! I’m talking to you!” Jason had finished arguing with Eric while Liam and I chatted and was obviously still furious.

I felt the same edge of fear from the character at the sight of him again, and pushed it back down with irritation.

“That must be so exhausting to be so angry all the time.” I muttered quietly as I watched him approach.

Liam nodded. “No kidding. I think I’ll need a nap just from watching him perform.”

Jason stopped just a few feet away, sneering. “I don’t know what lies you sold Eric earlier, but don’t’ forget, I know the real you! You’re a rich brat without any skills! You’re deadweight to any group, just a worthless bit….ARGH!” He flew backwards as a mostly-peeled apple struck him in the mouth, splitting his lip.

“Oops. Sorry did that hit you?” Liam watched him coldly, not sounding sorry at all. “My hands get slippery when I hear pure stupid.”

“Is that why people around you tend to get hit with flying projectiles often?

“It’s a curse…” He paused, then looked mortified. “THAT WAS MY LAST APPLE!”

“It’s okay.”

“WHY DIDN’T I USE A STONE?” He groaned into his hands. “That idiot wasn’t worth losing your snack! Now you’re going to go hungry!”

“I’m fine…” I tried to comfort him, but he had already pulled out a walkie-talkie and was growling instructions in some sort of code.

Jason, on the other hand, was now pointing in shock at Liam. “You! You’re William the destroyer!”

“…” I glanced over at the man who was still panicking over his lack of snack options to offer me.

“What’s the leader of the Blood Wolves doing here?” Jason was now looking nervous, clambering to his feet and keeping a good distance from us both

Liam ignored him, continuing to talk on his walkie talkie. Shaking my head, I stepped in between him. “He’s with me. Do you really want to argue now about whether or not we should be here?”

“But… but…”

“Jason!” Eric had returned, a grim look on his face. “I told you to leave them alone. We’ll go out hunting for supplies tomorrow, they can prove their worth then.”

Jason’s expression showed his clear unwillingness, but he slowly nodded. “Sure.” Glancing towards me, he sneered. “Then I guess tomorrow we’ll see just how useless you are.”

“Did I step on your dog or something? Seriously, try to reign in the hostility there, buddy.” With that, I turned and walked towards the empty tent Eric had pointed out earlier.

Despite my casual tone and outer appearance, my hands were clenched at my sides, the fingernails digging into my palms to keep my hands from shaking. My back was soaked with sweat, an uncontrollable reaction from the character I had become.

What is going on? It had been a long timesince I had been unable to fully control my character’s emotions like this. I swallowed uncomfortably. The sensation was unpleasant, a sense of incongruity between body and soul that I couldn’t quite overcome. It reminded me too much of the first mission I had undergone, the worst time of my life that I could still remember.

Waking up without memories, with no idea of who I was or why I was there, thrust into a romantic drama where my mission was to fulfill the role of a foolish, calculating villainous side character. Overwhelmed by intense love for the male lead and mind-numbing hatred for his heroine, I lost myself in despair. Later, I would learn to maintain my sense of identity. Even if I didn’t know who I was, I at least knew who I wasn’t.

And I wasn’t this character. A spoiled, angry young woman who thought the world revolved around her.

So why can’t I remember clearly? Not just Jason, even the events surrounding my character’s kidnapping and death were vague.

Something’s wrong with this world.

Sitting down with a sigh, I pulled out my phone.

“Let’s see how helpful this new ‘character description’ function is.” I typed in Jason’s name. After a moment to process, the phone’s screen filled with text.

Jason, the hero’s best friend and this world’s hopeless secondary male lead. In the story, he is shown to be in love with Hannah, but hides his feelings for fear of hurting his friends. He often supports her from behind, helping the hero rescue her during her frequent misadventures and kidnappings. Despite his devoted acts, Hannah remains blissfully unaware of his feelings, and treats him as a friend.

Nothing to explain why my character is scared of him. I grinned maliciously as I re-read the part about his unrequited love. “No wonder he’s so high strung. If he were nicer I might even feel sorry for him.”

Unable to control my curiosity, I typed in a second name.

“William.”

Character unknown.

“Hmm. Let’s try ‘Liam.’”

Character unknown.

“Blood Wolves.”

The most notorious and highly skilled gang in this story’s world, they often sell their services as mercenaries, and are considered a major power in the post-apocalyptic society.

I stared at the screen, even more confused. Such an important group, but the leader isn’t mentioned? Who is Liam?

But no matter how much I searched, there were no answers.

_____________________________

Shortly later, Liam called me out. The smell of freshly cooked food hastened my steps, and I sat at a table across from Hannah, ignoring her wide-eyed look of fear at my approach.

“The others are checking the perimeter. Here, I made you dinner!” Liam placed a bowl in front of both of us with a proud grin. It was filled with a stew, with vegetables and chicken. Hannah stared at the food suspiciously, although I didn’t see anything wrong with the food. Carefully, I lifted a spoonful up to my mouth, my eyes widening with shock.

“It’s delicious!” I took another few bites before pausing. “Where did you get the ingredients?”

Liam sat down next to me, peeling an apple with an affectionate grin. “My friends happened to have gathered some extra supplies and brought them over.”

“… You sent the Blood Wolves on a snack run?”

“What were they supposed to do? Let you go hungry?” He raised an eyebrow. “They wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I don’t know how you manage to sound so supportive and yet so… ominous at the same time.”

“It’s one of my many talents, I’m so glad you noticed!”

Hannah watched our exchange back and forth, before looking down at the food once more. She seemed very hungry, but she still hadn’t made any moves towards eating.

“You should try it, it tastes really good!” As I coaxed the girl sitting across from me, I saw Liam beaming with pride.

“…” She stared silently at us both for a long few moments before nodding and taking a bite, her hands shaking and almost spilling the stew from her spoon. As she swallowed the food however, her eyes filled with tears.

Why do all the heroine’s I meet cry so easily? Maybe the problem is with me? Do I just not cry enough?

“It tastes so good!” She ate quickly, blinking to keep back the tears that were threatening to spill over.

Oh… so… happy tears? That’s refreshing. I patted her on the shoulder gently. “Not had a lot of hot meals lately, huh?”

Hannah nodded at my sympathetic words. “Yeah, Eric and James are too busy with security and supply runs. And I…” Her words trailed off.

Why hello there, mission opportunity!I rejoiced inwardly but kept a gentle look on my face. “You what?”

“I’m weak… I can’t fight. I can’t even cook.” She looked up at me her eyes still wet with unshed tears. “I wish I could be scary like you…”

… Scary?

Liam laughed at my dumbfounded expression, quickly silencing himself as I turned to glare at him. Looking back over at Hannah, I tried to smile comfortingly, the expression stiffening as a look of terror flashed across her face.

“You want to be a well-rounded useful person? I can help you.” Not like I have a choice.

“Really?” Hannah clasped her hands together in front of her. She still looked frightened, but excitement was clearly pushing back her fear. “I really want to be helpful!”

“Really. Just come watch me tomorrow during the outing. I’ll show you what I can do. From there, we’ll come up with a plan.”

She now was smiling brightly, giving off the impression of a small, adorable animal that should be protected. “I promise I’ll work hard, Boss!”

She trusts me so quickly… no wonder she kept getting kidnapped.

“Wait... Did you just call me Boss…?”

“One day, I pray I can be just as terrifying as you!” Hannah cheered excitedly.

“…”

I feel like her motivation has gone in a weird direction.

As I struggled on how to answer her, Liam nodded solemnly. “It’s good to have goals, but you shouldn’t aim too high.” He handed me the freshly peeled apple, and continued. “No one’s as terrifying as your Boss. But with hard work and effort, one day, you can reach ‘lackey status’ like me!”

“Really?”

“Yeah!” The two high-fived as I watched on silently, feeling tired.

“… I’m going to bed.”

_____________________________

The next morning, we all headed out, running into a group of zombies, almost immediately. We halted a good distance away to discuss a plan.

“Will it be okay?” Hannah’s face looked extremely nervous as she looked at the zombies in the distance.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!” Jason smiled at Hannah, his eyes full of tender emotion. “I promise, as long as I have breath in my body, no zombie will get near you.”

I still felt a small thread of fear running through me as I looked at him, but fortunately, it was much easier to control now. I rolled my eyes at his words. Didn’t the character summary say hehides his feelings? How is this subtle at all?

Eric stared at his friend silently for a moment, and then patted Hannah’s head with a sigh. “Make sure to stay away from the fight.” Loading up a handgun, he glanced over at me. “Are you coming?”

“Ha, bet you’re gonna run and hide, huh?” Jason glared at me, his face looking extremely punchable, forcing me to hold back.

I sighed, admiring my self –restraint. “I’ll take the ten on the right.”

“There’s only fifteen!”

“Yeah, so we’ll split it by skill.” I turned back and grinned. “Ten for me, four for Eric and one for you.”

Pulling out my sword, I headed over, ignoring his stuttered complaints.

GRRRR.

The closest of the zombies was reaching out towards my head, several fingers missing from its hands, its half rotten jaw open, ready to bite.

I lopped it head off, knocking the body away from me.

IT SMELLS SO BAD!!! I had only been able to wash in cold water from a basin. I still desperately missed hot showers.

“Go Boss!”

“Yeah! Kill the zombies! You’re the best!”

Shouts from behind me caught my attention. After killing several more zombies I glanced over, giving out a loud sigh at the sight.

Liam and Hannah cheered off to the side, jumping up and down with excitement.

“Zombies don’t stand a chance against her!”

“Yeah! They’re toast!”

… I’m just going to ignore them for now.

In the corner of my eye I saw Jason struggling to defeat his first zombie, waving a metal bat but missing several passes. He backed up, putting some distance between him and his foe, and turned to stare longingly at Hannah for a few moments, before looking over to glare at me as he realized who she was cheering for. I smiled and winked, watching with interest as his face turned even redder with rage.

Feeling an undeniable urge to taunt, I called out to him as I continued to decapitate zombies.

“Don’t lose focus, little Jason! Or do you need me to help you with your one zombie too?”

“SHUT UP!”

“Try not to bully him, please.” Eric called out as he calmly dodged attacks, occasional shots ringing out. Each was a perfect headshot, as expected of the hero of an action novel. “Jason is sensitive to criticism.”

I nodded, kicking a zombie head into the air and batting it away with my sword, watching it sail away with interest. “Sorry, I’ll try harder to support his emotional well being.”

“Thanks!”

Having finished off our respective zombies, Eric and I high fived before heading back towards the rest of the group.

“Guys… I’m still fighting here!” Jason’s helpless cries caused me to pause.

I glanced at Eric “Will he be okay?”

“Yeah, he’s just milking it so Hannah will pay more attention to him.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

Eric shrugged. “Not really, but he doesn’t step over the line and extra hands are necessary, so I just ignore it.”

Is this a… reasonable male lead? Could it be possible?

“Okay, then.” I raised a hand, not turning around. “Good luck Jason, we believe in you!”

Eric grinned and called out behind him. “See you back in camp, buddy!”

“Boss!” Hannah ran up with a grin. “That was amazing!”

Liam stepped closer, handing me a thermos with hot tea. “I told you she was awesome! She saved my life, you know.”

I ignored him, turning my attention to Hannah. Time to make some progress on this mission. “Did what you see today inspire you?”

“Yeah!”

“Do you want to be helpful?”

“Yeah!”

Getting excited, I pumped a fist into the air. “You want to be strong and fight along side me?!”

“…” Hannah stared at me in shock. “What? No. Fight zombies? It’s scary… and kind of gross.”

I looked at her silently. “I… thought you were inspired?”

“Yeah! But not like that.” She nodded firmly. “I realized I was too eager when I wanted to be as terrifying as you…”

“HEY!”

“So I’ve decided.” She grinned. “I’m going to be a professional lackey, just like Liam!”

“…”

Eric and I sighed in unison.

Liam smiled, patting Hannah on the shoulder. “Now don’t look down on us weak and vulnerable support spouses!”

“You’re not even weak…and we’re not married...”

“We may depend on our stronger counterparts to protect our lives, but we can keep everything running smoothly so you don’t have to worry about anything else.” He looked at me expectantly. “How is your tea?”

Giving up on arguing, I sipped it, and paused, shocked. “It’s… amazing. How did you even make hot tea out here?”

“It’s a trade secret.” Hannah and Liam gave each other a thumbs up, as Hannah handed Liam a thermos, which he drank from silently.

We headed back to camp.

“I feel like we’re forgetting something.” I muttered as I sipped my tea.

“GUYS? WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!! I’m STILL FIGHTING!” Jason’s angry shriek pierced the air, but no one turned around.

“I know what it is!” Liam grinned, cleaning one of my hands with a warm towel before handing me a freshly peeled apple. “Here, snack!”

“HANNAH? ERIC? ANYONE?”

I nodded, taking a bite. “That must have been it.”

_____________________________

A few days passed.

I tried again to convince Hannah to train to fight, thinking that combat skills would be the fastest way to change her status as kidnappable dead weight. After much convincing, she agreed to start training with me.

Unfortunately, the results were not what I had hoped for.

“OWW!” Hannah laid on the ground, staring up at me sadly. “I’m dying.”

“All I did was have you hold my sword. We haven’t even started fighting yet.”

“It hurts.”

“How did you even hurt yourself?” I stared at the small cut on her leg in consternation. “You only had the sword for fifteen seconds?”

Needless to say, the sword was confiscated. Strengthening exercises were meant with similar outcomes.

“How’s it going?” Liam brought me a bowl of hot soup, as I stared in disbelief at the figure attempting to do a pushup in front of me.

I pulled out my phone, glancing at the mission screen. The first completion bar for Hannah’s mission had been stuck at 10% since we started. “Not good. This is still her first push up.”

“Well, everyone takes a different amount of time…”

“We’ve been out here four hours.”

“Oh… how’s the soup?”

I sighed, taking time to try it. “It’s amazing. I’m still convinced you might be magic to be able to cook like this in the apocalypse.”

“This is just the beginning of my skills!”

I drank the soup quietly, staring at Liam while thinking.

“What is it?” He grinned. “You think I’m handsome and finally want to upgrade me from lackey to support spouse?”

“Who are you?”

My question was whispered, but he still heard it, a look of helplessness spreading across his face. This wasn’t the first time I had asked him this.

“I’ve told you everything, Blaire. I swear I’m not hiding anything from you.”

“You’ve told me everything you’ve remembered.” I corrected him quietly, turning away. Focusing my attention back on Hannah, I couldn’t help but feel discouraged. “This isn’t going to work.”

“You said you’re trying to make her a well-rounded, useful person, right?” Liam finally spoke up, his expression thoughtful. “You might be pushing her in the wrong direction. There are many different ways to help out, fighting is just one of them.”

“Yeah… but that’s what I’m good at.” I rubbed my head. “If I have to teach her other skills, I might not be able to.”

I had memories from multiple story worlds, but most of them required me to act as a brain dead villain, not staying long. Only a few provided practical skills such as the assassin guild story. A sense of frustration filled me.

“I can teach her cooking, supply management, and basic book-keeping.” Liam watched me, seemingly worried. “And you can teach her your special skill.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Negotiation.” He grinned. “It’s amazing to watch you reduce that idiot Jason to an apoplectic fit every time you argue.”

I thought it over, a small return smile forming on my face. “I guess I have developed some good interpersonal skills. I once helped my brother overcome an obsession with behavior modification training.”

“You have a brother?” He asked, his eyes widening.

“In a different life.” I felt a pang of loneliness for the time I had spent in the previous world. I wondered if Adam was doing well. Looking back at Liam, I reached over and patted him on the head.

“I’m glad you’re here.” That I got to see you again. Even if you look different. Even if you don’t remember me.

Liam froze with shock at my touch for a few moments, before his face lit up with delight. “I’m glad I’m here too!”

I looked back down at Hannah, who still hadn’t completed her first push up. “Let’s go with your plan.”

Scratching the plan to make the heroine a one woman army, it was time to make her into an overpowered support character.

#writing #pt 3 #PFTS #rebirth #multiple worlds #zombies #action

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