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justminawrites · 10 months

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Of Ribbons and Other Lost Things - Chapter 1: Symphony of Broken Hearts

AO3

1 | 2 | 3 | TBC

Summary: Marinette is about to tell her best friend the truth after a full year of lying: she is Ladybug. But the forces of the universe don't seem to like this idea. [Starts off right at the end of Gang of Secrets.]

“If I tell you things will never be the same between us again! It’ll mess up everything— maybe even destroy it!"

"Marinette.. I'm your very best friend.."

"And I— I’m.. Multimouse."

Luka Couffaine figured the akuma attack must’ve been bad if he could still remember every single detail over a week after it happened.

Truth had been one of the nastier ones; not just in terms of how conveniently his secret-exposing powers could’ve been misused, but also because of the can of worms it had already opened. No matter how many ‘miraculous ladybugs’ came after it, Luka could never unknow that Jagged Stone– his hero, his idol, his inspiration for years, that Jagged Stone– was his father.

Or how he’d subsequently tossed said father off the roof of a hotel minutes after his confession.

“Thanks for the pizza, Luka!”

“It’s no problem, Rose,” he replied, absentmindedly stuffing the both the notes and the tip into the pocket of his slate-blue jacket as he hopped back onto the bike. He’d just split them later, when he could close his eyes without recalling flashes of Ladybug’s yoyo or Chat Noir’s spotlit face twisting with panic.

Without remembering Anarka Couffaine’s panicked sobs as she pulled him in for a hug, when he’d finally made his way back home.

Rose Lavillant, his fellow band member and sisters’ girlfriend, frowned, reaching over her patio-fence to immobilise him by grabbing the bike’s wicker-basket with one hand and waving the other in front of his face.

“What’s going on?” She asked, giving the basket a little shake.

“Nothing,” Luka tried to discreetly tug his bicycle back but her grip was iron-tight, “Why.. Did– did Jule say something?”

His sister had been on his case almost as much as his mother.

Luka had always been the rational one in his family; the one to keep peace, go with the flow, take everything in stride, but he’d very nearly gotten re-akumatised when a certain purple-haired, black-goateed, I-was-too-lame-to-take-care-of-a-kid rockstar greeted him over Anarka’s shoulder by calling him ‘son.’

I’m not your son, he’d hissed with finality, and slammed the door to the room he and Juleka shared. He remembered unfairly snapping at his sister that night too, when she’d dared to suggest reconciliation.

It was a mixture of shock, heartbreak, and loneliness so severe, he wondered if the akuma hadn’t poisoned him beyond repair. He’d lost his best-friend, his girlfriend, and his hero, all in the span of five short hours.

Luka was sure everyone on the Liberty could hear the crying that night, despite how hard he’d tried to muffle the sound with his pillow.

“Is this about Marinette?” The blonde blurted out bluntly, oblivious to the way he flinched back into reality, “–because I don’t think she’s that upset about it to be honest.”

And, Marinette. He didn’t even know where to begin with Marinette.

“Maybe a little frazzled by the breakup, but not seriously disturbed in any way, which is weird because you did break into her house, but I’m sure she’ll forgive you if you just–“

“Thank you for the concern, Rose,” Luka interrupted firmly, plucking her fingers free of his bike, “But this is about something else.”

He adjusted the empty thermal food delivery bag, ensuring there was no way this one would fly off, akuma attack be damned, and hoisted himself onto the seat.

“Could you tell Jule to head back without me today? I’ve got an interview.”

It wasn’t the entire truth (God knows that hadn’t gotten him anywhere anyway), but it wasn’t the real reason he couldn’t pick up his sister either.

For the past week, Jagged had been showing up unannounced to the Liberty, armfuls of gifts (usually discontinued merch) in tow, determined to suddenly spend time with his children, and Luka was sure he was going to go insane.

Anarka chased him off the ship with a broom the first dozen times, No stowaways on my ship, ya scallywag!, but after he’d brought her a present too (a noise permit she’d gleefully shoved in Roger’s face), she let him stay till curfew.

Luka could usually avoid him last-minute– the gaudy purple tour bus parked right by the dock was a dead giveaway– but it wasn’t a sure-fire solution. So he reverted to plan B: a part-time job (or two) that would keep him till late, and away from his admittedly well-meaning father until he could figure out how he felt about all this.

Sort the sour tune of guilt and betrayal from the tiny notes of fondness that had begun to echo within him.

“Sure, I’ll tell her.”

Luka ducked his head gratefully and clipped on his yellow helmet, resisting the urge to rub the sleep-deprivation off of his face.

Now the only problem left was to find a place that would keep him busy till curfew, but was still flexible enough work around his pizza delivery schedule.

“But Luka–“ He turned back.

Rose was nibbling on her right thumb nail as she gave him a once over with her cartoonishly-blue eyes, “Are you okay?”

He smiled weakly instead of lying.

...

“If I tell you, things will never be the same between us again! It’ll mess up everything– maybe even destroy it!”

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was going to reveal her identity as Ladybug to her best friend, Alya Cesaire.

It’d been decided for her, the moment Alya had shut the trap door and gently confronted Marinette about her lies. She couldn’t keep it from her best friend, she’d only barely managed to keep it from Luka last week, and if it wasn’t meant to be then the universe wouldn’t have kept her back here... because.. because that was how things worked now.. right?

If Bunnix or a future version of herself didn’t pop out from a glowing portal to make sure she’d changed her decision, it probably meant that it was the correct one... or at least Marinette hoped it was. Because that was the logic she’d been basing almost all of her decisions around since him. She repressed the chill that crept up on her, recalling the ominous tinkle of a snow-white bell, the madness in his blue, blue eyes.

“Marinette.. I’m your very best friend..” Alya for her part, looked shocked by the outburst; it was so unlike her friend to be serious about something. As the brunette squeezed her shoulders softly, dispelling the ghost of Chat Blanc, Marinette made up her mind.

“And I–“ she began, mustering up the courage to look into Alya’s hazel eyes, “I’m–“

“Multimouse!”

“Yes, I’m, wait– what?”

Mullo, the mouse Kwami of Multiplication was hovering in mid-air, holding onto a necklace with a small, circular pendant. Marinette couldn’t be sure, but she had the distinct sense that the kwami was disappointed with her.

“Multimouse?” Alya gasped in delight, “You’re multimouse?”

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Mullo said uncharacteristically formal as she dropped the miraculous into Marinette’s lap, “I’m Mullo, Marinette’s kwami.”

“How many times do I need to tell you, Marinette? You can’t forget to wear the miraculous! That’s the whole point!”

She definitely hadn’t imagined it now. The mouse’s normally mischievous tone was dripping with venom.

“I– I’m–“ She mumbled, but the damage was already done. Alya let go of her shoulders to ooh and ahh appropriately at Mullo, and ask the kwami questions she couldn’t actually answer.

Marinette looked around her helplessly, gaze landing on the pink-and-white spotted sewing crate that housed the new Miracle Box, suddenly wondering if Tikki was in there– if this was all her doing.

“What was that you said?”

Mullo’s red eyes narrowed, honing in on the necklace pendant she’d let remain on her lap uselessly, daring Marinette to finish her train of thought. Maybe this was the sign.

“I’m sorry,” she finished lamely, picking up the necklace to latch it around her neck. Master Fu had warned her not to wear too many miraculouses at a time, but she figured only the two couldn’t hurt. Besides, she had to sell this new lie.

“Girl, you know I don’t blame you,” Alya said excitedly, returning to her place on Marinette’s chaise, “Ladybug told you to keep your identity a secret, huh?”

“YeAH,” Marinette replied squeakily, “Ladybug did– she’s um..“

“I know. She’s a little strict about that,” Alya elbowed her good-naturedly, “Still– I’m jealous. You and Chat get to keep yours forever, while some of us have to wait for Ladybug to decide wether or not she needs us.”

“Yeah– well, that’s because.. um..” She wracked her brain to come up with a way to deflect what was definitely her best friend’s passive-aggressive way of asking how she’d convinced Paris’ Greatest Superhero to entrust her with a power permanently.

“Wait,” Marinette pretended to gasp, “Some of ‘us’? Alya, are you..”

She didn’t know what she was expecting. Maybe for Alya to drop the subject, or change the topic - maybe stammer a little over a slip of tongue like she’d been teased for doing so often.

“Yep,” Alya replied nonchalantly, “Rena Rouge at your service.”

Marinette hadn’t expected that.

“Alya!” She covered her friend’s mouth impulsively, before the brunette pushed her away, “You’re not supposed to tell me that!”

“You just told me,” Alya pointed out, “–and there’s no use in hiding it anyway. After what happened with Hawkmoth and Chloé’s mega tantrum last month as Queen Wasp, I doubt she’ll be reinstating me anytime soon.”

“I- I suppose.. you’re right,” Marinette sighed, trying not to let too much defeat into her voice. She didn’t want to accidentally trigger Alya’s journalist senses.

“It’s probably for the best,” her friend looked down, “I’m not really cut out for that superhero life, though I’ll miss the little rascal.”

Marinette swallowed the urge to guiltily glance at the sewing box again, inside which Trixx was no doubt eavesdropping on the entire conversation. It was her fault they’d lost, after all; if Ladybug had just de-transformed, if she’d just stuck to the rules that Master Fu had set out for her, he’d still be.. they’d all be..

“But I’m still happy for you, Marinette!” Alya smiled, pulling her into a side-hug, “It’s a little scary but it’s exciting isn’t it? Being a real-life superhero?”

“It’s a lot of pressure,” She managed, sinking into the warmth of her friend’s hug. For a brief second, she wondered if this what it would’ve felt like if she’d told Alya nine months ago, when she’d first come into possession of the little miraculous box with the earrings. It felt nice.

Before Marinette could stop herself, all of her fears tumbled out.

“What if- what if I’m not cut out for this, Alya?”

“What’re you on about?”

Marinette was talking about being the Guardian, of course, but her friend didn’t know that.

“What if I mess everything up, and the miraculouses get stolen or what if I get akumatised and Hawk Moth– Shadow Moth now– finds out my identity and what if he takes them.. er.. it. What if he hurts my family or the bakery and what if the ladybugs can’t fix it and Chat’s already mad that I’m... um she’s keeping things from him, what if I break up the team, what if–“

“Marinette,” Alya pulled back and shook her by the shoulders to stop the overflow of words, watching tears fill up her friend’s eyes.

“I’m scared, Alya. I’m scared and tired, and tired of being scared and scared of being too tired, and I broke up with Luka because he just keeps getting akumatised when I’m around and he didn’t sign up to date a superhero anyway. So it’s not fair, to him or Adrien or anyone I might like in the future.”

“Maybe I should just quit now before I royally screw up.” Again, Marinette added in her head.

Alya fell silent at that, cupping her chin in contemplation. “Okay, quit.” She said finally.

Marinette’s head went blank as she looked at her friend in disbelief.

“But– but–“

“Quit,” Alya offered, more confidently this time, “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t just–“

“Why not?”

“Because– Ladybug– I mean..“

“Ladybug can always give your miraculous to someone else. There can be another Multimouse. Why can’t you quit, Marinette?”

“Because it’s wrong,” she said quietly. Because I don’t have a choice.

“No– because it’s you,” Alya corrected, taking Marinette’s hands in hers and giving them a quick squeeze.

“What’s me?”

“Multimouse.. she’s a part of you, just as much as Marinette is.”

“But I’m so clumsy and forgetful, what if I–“

“Someone entrusted you with this miraculous because they know how capable you are. Other people can see things in you that you can’t always see.”

A flash of Master Fu’s soothing chuckle and sympathetic face came to her, and the tears she’d hidden threatened to rise up again.

“You’re kind and sweet and a loyal friend, Marinette,” Alya’s brown eyes filled with genuine admiration for her, “You’ve got a good heart, girl– you just need to trust it a little more.”

“You’re our everyday Ladybug for a reason, you know?”

“Okay,” She released a long breath.

While it wasn’t exactly how she’d intended the conversation to go, Marinette felt strangely better after talking to Alya and getting some, if not all, of her worries off her chest.

“You’re right, I just had a bad moment. I can recover from this.”

“Of course you can.” Alya cheered, “You’re Marinette Dupain-Cheng. You can do anything!”

She felt the blush rise to her cheeks.

While she received praise daily for masquerading as Ladybug, Marinette was still unused to people complimenting her civilian identity, especially since she’d always just been silly Marinette to everyone; silly Marinette, clumsy Marinette, awkward, uncoordinated, foot-in-her-mouth Marinette. To everyone except– well, there was no use in thinking about him either.

“C’mon,” Alya grabbed her hand, making for the trap door, “Let’s see if we can get some ice-cream. All this superhero talk's got me in the mood for André’s LadyNoir special.”

“Ugh,” Marinette made a face, “You know they aren’t actually dating right–“

“I know, girl,” Alya giggled, “It’s just half-price for the next few days!”

“Fine, I’m coming.”

Marinette caught a glimpse of a red and black-spotted kwami flitting out of the sewing box to wave her over. Marinette, she could hear Tikki’s tiny voice in her ear, We need to talk.

“Nino just texted, the cart’s by Le Grand Paris hotel today,” Alya smiled fondly down at her phone, and Marinette tore her eyes away from her kwami’s frantic beckoning.

“I- I’ll catch up with you, I just need to grab something first.”

“Alright, but don’t take too long Marinette,” the brunette lowered herself down the stairs, “–or should I call you Multi-nette now?”

“Alya!” She cried, scandalised.

Her friend’s head disappeared with a wink.

“What about Mousinette then?”

“ALYA!”

______________________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER ->

A/N: So let's all imagine that Gang of Secrets went very differently and Ladybug did not enlist Alya's help to defeat the akuma. What would have happened then? I present to you: this fic.

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justaredheadf1fan · 11 months

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High hopes in Monaco after the cancellation of Imola

Heya!

Well, I was originally planning on writing last week after the announcement of the GP in Imola being cancelled due to the floods going on in the Emilia Romagna region, but between my shitty shifts and exhaustion, I couldn't even think about it.

It was a sad thing, but it was the necessary decision. For once, the FIA was quick to decide what was best and also for once, they made the right choice. Just wish people in the area were all okay...

This weekend I'm watching it all after work, so yeah I'll be late once again. On another note, we started this race weekend with the news of Honda teamming up with Aston Martin starting 2026 and rumors about Yuki being a possibility to join Alonso. That would be funny tbh. Also, Mercedes FINALLY got rid of the "no sidepods" concept on the car. Really hope this levels things, at least a tiny bit (I'm expecting no miracles).

Anyway, onto the actual purpose of this post, so I'm starting at last.

Press conference - Thursday

First press round and not really anything interesting except for Yuki's take on the floodings in Italy. I'm here just waiting for the second round to start so that I can watch the chaos unfold 🤣

Chaotic Sharl is on and I'm here for it, "Hello, Lewis" sounded like the funniest shit in the world with that laughter of his. Seriously, I can't 😗 I do love those Lewis-Sharl interactions, they're so cute seriously and they'd make an insane duo, lots of fun stuff would be sent our way for sure.

Piarles clowning together about the football match a few days ago and how they just clashes into each other despite being in the same team. Really, boys? 🥲

Do people still think, given what we've seen this year so far and also last season, that Ferrari is a good choice for Lewis? I mean, yes Mercedes is not going through their best moments right now, but Ferrari? After so many disasters and making their own driver lose the chances of gaining a championship? I love Ferrari, but come on.

Free Practice 1 - Friday

Finally some movement in the streets of Monte Carlo and I'm actually thinking about all the new rumors that we might get after the race. I've been waiting for this weekend just for this 🤣

I know there have been a few Red Flags today so I'm just here waiting for them. I don't care how boring this track can get, I just love it and nothing's gonna change that. Ever.

Sid the Sloth is crying on the radio. What for? He has a fucking missile despite that much complaining and whining about it.

Not much else going on, pretty calm session for now. Apart from Sargeant having some kind of problem, nothing else to say. And I obviously spoke too soon, since Nico span a little bit too hard and fucked up his rear left tyre, causing a Yellow Flag that turned into a Red Flag. First of the day.

Sharl probably touched the wall or so, and right afterwards Albon crashed on his side, so the session was Red Flagged permanently now, with 3 minutes to go. Quiet one despite those problems, but not the worst news possible considering.

Free Practice 2 - Friday

SEB IS AT THE PADDOCK, I REPEAT, SEB IS AT THE PADDOCK 🥹 PLEASE SEB, COME BACK TO US, WE NEED YOU 😭

Besides different drivers trying out setting times and so on, there's been nothing going on. I do love that tunnel, though. That must be scary as fuck, honestly.

Aaaaand Carlos tries to goes as close to the wall as possible but crashes. Fantastic job causing another Red Flag. Quite a few drivers have gone very, very close but have managed to get out unscathed. I guess it's damn luck (on top of skill obviously, they're going over 200kph).

Commentators are talking about the future 2026 PUs and honestly, if the regulations for that year are as bad as the ones introduced in 2022, this will just get worse by then.

Maybe tomorrow something else will happen, especially during Quali, which I'll obviously watch late.

Free Practice 3 - Saturday

Well, I already know what happened in Quali today, but just gonna watch in order first so that I can finish this one post, I don't want extra tabs open on my browser right now, it's been a tough day at work 🤪

So Estie Bestie stopped in the middle of the tunnel (on the side anyway), but managed to get back to the pit lane, so at least nothing scary going on.

Wasn't Laurent Mekkies supposed to be in Alpha Tauri by now? Or did I miss something? I keep seeing him on the Ferrari pit wall 🤔

Honestly, nothing going on in FP3 so I was just watching memes on IG the whole time. Oh Jesus, and Lewis against the wall all of a sudden?! What the hell. That car being moved by the crane.... Was that really necessary, taking it so high!?

Red Flagged session so that means I'm gonna go watch Quali finally.

Peace out!

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share-the-damn-bed · 2 years

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jonathan is going to die in s5 ep 4 for the sake of will's story line. it will be the spark for the rest of will's story in the last 4 episodes. i am absolutely convinced.

Interesting! There's a lot to unpack here.

Let's just assume Jonathan does die in season 5. I'm curious why you think this will happen in episode 4. Recalling from memory, all character deaths (named, secondary or main characters) have died within the first 2 or the last 2 episodes. This isn't to say it's not possible, it just hasn't been done before. The closest things that have happened midseason are close calls (Max in season 4) and misdirections (Will's body in season 1).

I really don't think they're going to the kill him at all, but if they did, it would make the most sense for it to happen closer to the end of the season. The problem with thinking that it would spur on Will's story is that Jonthan's death wouldn't just affect Will, it would majorly (hopefully...) affect Joyce and Nancy as well and I don't think killing a main character and having other main characters struck with grief in the middle of the season makes for the best use of screen time. In a show where each season only spans approximately one week and days can span episodes, having a main character who is connected to so many other main characters die would eat up a huge chunk of the season (as they process their grief in a realistic way) OR, if they brush over it quickly, it would feel cheap and do a disservice to the character. Imagine Jonathan does die in episode 4 of season 5 and Nancy's like "Oh no, how sad! Anyways back to my plan..." I would throw my TV off my balcony. So no, I don't think it would happen in the middle of the season.

I also don't think it would happen at the start of the season. One thing I really liked about season 4 is that it set up a great Jonathan storyline that remains unfinished. Seriously, I love the golf scene because it was the first Jonathan-focused scene in Stranger Things since season 1. I have a hard time believing the writers set up the whole "Jonathan is torn between his wants and his responsibilities" plot to kill him in the first few episodes of the new season. It's a good plot and they need to explore it! Also, it's one of the few unresolved threads from ST4.

This leaves killing him in the last few episodes. This is the most likely time they would kill him, but I still don't think this would happen. It's the final season and things should be winding down, not revving up. Jonathan's death would impact multiple main characters (which is a point toward killing him) but I still don't see the show wanting to end on a low note. I truly believe that we're going to get a happy or bittersweet ending and Jonathan's death would bring a weighted sadness beyond bittersweet.

Going back to the idea that death will spur the characters in season 5, I agree with this! I just think it has already happened and that Max's "death" is going to be a huge motivator and plot point in season 5 especially for El and the party. I also think Eddie's death is going to take a toll on Dustin's character in season 5. I don't believe adding in a third death as a motivator in the middle of season 5 is necessary or good idea.

What if instead of Jonathan dying, Will's relationship with Jonathan helps him overcome whatever hold Vecna has on him?

In season 4, Will has a line that I think foreshadows the plan for season 5: he tells El (after her diorama is destroyed) that they'll fix it together. I think the power of love in all of its many forms will be the biggest defense against Vecna in season 5 and will ultimately be how our heroes overcome the Upside Down.

#manifesting a happy ending for season 5 #jonathan doesn't need to die #not for will #and especially not for the stupid love triangle to resolve #i have many thoughts on that too

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randomvarious · 1 year

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Today’s compilation:

The Best of the Sound of Sunshine 1991 Disco / Disco-Funk / Funk / Soul

Today I took a look at T.K. Records, an independent label from Miami that played a foundational role in helping to grow and spread disco music worldwide while the genre was still in its mid-70s infancy and then continued on as a Billboard Dance chart staple until its untimely demise in 1981. Had it not been for T.K., it's actually entirely possible that the disco era as we know it may have never even occurred 😮.

And it all starts with this album's opener, the blissfully dreamy and unexpected #1 single that's now managed to sell over *11 million records worldwide,* George McCrae's 1974 debut, "Rock Your Baby." It was written by two members of KC & the Sunshine Band, Harry Wayne Casey and Richard Finch, shortly before that group would become their own force to be reckoned with. And the funny thing about this particular song is that it sort of happened on a bit of a whim: McCrae was only called in because KC & the Sunshine Band couldn't sing the high notes themselves. And they'd also intended for George's wife, Gwen, whose career he also managed, to record it, but she didn't make it to the session in time. George didn't even have any solo career to speak of at that point and was actually planning on going back to college, but that recording invitation ended up changing everything for not only him, but also KC & the Sunshine Band, T.K. Records itself, and even the trajectory of disco music as a whole since the tune became one of the genre's first ever feats. And it's also one of the first songs to *ever use a drum machine* too. So, it's literally a world-changing record. And I also happen to think that it's one of the greatest songs that's ever been made, period; like, top-ten-status. Seriously, it’s *that* good.

And the unprecedented success of "Rock Your Baby" then paved the way for KC & the Sunshine Band to keep the still nascent disco wave going on their own, with two of their first *five #1 hits in a five-year span* being released within just four months of each other in 1975: "Get Down Tonight" and "That's the Way (I Like It)," both of which have become genre-defining disco playlist staples and are also featured on this album.

KC & the Sunshine Band would then anchor T.K.'s roster throughout most of its remaining existence, but Harry Wayne Casey and Richard Finch would also co-write more songs for other acts on the label too, including a terrific piece of uptempo funky soul by the one and only Betty Wright, whose "Where Is the Love," released by T.K. sublabel Alston, barely managed to scrape the Hot 100 in 1975, but ended up peaking at #2 on the Dance Club chart.

And T.K. had other successes that didn't involve KC & the Sunshine Band too. One example is another global chart-topper in 1979 from one-hit wonder Anita Bell, who recorded "Ring My Bell" for T.K. subsidiary Juana. The rest of the label's songs that didn't involve KC & the Sunshine Band didn't fare nearly as well as that one, but The Bahamas' T-Connection managed to top the Dance chart for a full seven weeks in 1977 with "Do What You Wanna Do," which appears on this album alongside another excellent track of theirs from the following year called "At Midnight," which peaked at #3 on the Dance chart.

And closing out this album, much like it began, is another chill disco bop that features a great lead male falsetto on it in Foxy’s “Party Boys.” Released in 1980 as the band’s final single, it’s equipped with a fat bassline and some nice, soft touches of organ. It never made the Hot 100, but it peaked at #24 on the Dance chart. and it's proven itself to have been a pretty damn fine swan song for the group.

Now, I wouldn't say that this album fully entails what the best of T.K. Records and its many subsidiaries was, because, for that to happen, at least five of these songs would've had to have been by KC & the Sunshine Band. But still, only with just two of their #1s, "Rock Your Baby," and "Ring My Bell," you can see just how integral this label was to disco's success. And beyond that list of all-time disco bangers, T.K. was also able to keep the Dance chart humming with more terrific offerings that have become much more underappreciated over the years. There's a very important slice of disco history that's packed into this album, even if it doesn't present *all* of T.K.'s greatest hits.

Highlights:

George McCrae - "Rock Your Baby" KC & the Sunshine Band - "Get Down Tonight" KC & the Sunshine Band - "That's the Way (I Like It)" Peter Brown - "Do You Wanna Get Funky With Me" Anita Ward - "Ring My Bell" T-Connection - "At Midnight" T-Connection - "Do What You Wanna Do" Jimmy "Bo" Horne - "Spank" Betty Wright - "Where Is the Love" Foxy - "Party Boys"

#disco #disco funk #funk #dance #dance music #music #70s #70s music #70's #70's music #soul #soul music

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the-cat-chat · 1 year

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January 7 - January 21, 2023

John Wick: Chapters 1-3 (2014-2019)

A neo-noir action thriller film series that follows John Wick, a former assassin, who is forced back into the criminal underworld he had abandoned.

JayBell: I love a good retired assassin seeks vengeance story arc. It may not be original, but it’s fun and over the top. And it’s Keanu Reeves!

This was not my first time watching the John Wick movies or even my second. Now I have to admit, they aren’t perfect movies. Keanu Reeves’ dialogue is a little too strangely stilted at times, which I guess is a purposeful stylistic choice on his part? At times it’s like every word is being dragged from him slowly and tortuously. Although this does fit his emo character, so there’s that.

I think my biggest gripe with these movies (specifically the 2nd and 3rd) is that when John is fighting like a mob of a hundred nondescript people in masks or helmets, they don’t always fight back as much as you’d think they would. Yeah I know John is like super skilled and everything and they’re in pain after being punched and thrown around, but sometimes they kind of just lay there slightly too long without struggling. It’s as if they’re just waiting for John to kill them.

Other than that one thing, I really enjoy the fight scenes. I don’t care much about car chase or motorcycle chase scenes, but I love close-quarter fight choreography in movies. I also like that the first movie introduces the rules of this criminal underworld, and the second and third movies flesh it out a lot further. This gives the movies a sense of development and greater worldbuilding. They also strike the right balance between realism and fantasy.

As a character, John Wick can be so dramatic. I love that he wears his little dark suits whenever he needs to conduct “business.” I propose that he shows up in the next movie in a bright Hawaiian shirt and flip flops. How many ways can John Wick kill someone with a flip flop? Stay tuned for John Wick Chapter 6: Beach Vacation Vengeance. But seriously, the series is about a man dealing with grief (or failing to deal with his grief), and man does he need some therapy.

P.S. Can you believe that all the shenanigans in 3 movies happen in like the span of a few weeks?

P.P.S. Charon doesn’t get paid enough for all this.

Rating: 7.5/10 cats 🐈

Anzie:

John Wick 1

I was pleasantly surprised with watching John Wick. Not that I thought it was going to be a dumb action movie but how is it possible there’s multiple?? Like please don’t turn Keanu Reeves into Bruce Willis. But Keanu Reeves could never disappoint. For the first one I think a lot of the intro about who the character John Wick is was really good and not cheesy and was more just like giving the general vibe of “yeah no we’re all scared of him and you’re dead dude.” I do wanna comment on the music bc it’s not annoying but it somehow feels like it’s either making fun of the seriousness but also perfect for the seriousness? I really like the hotel and the concierge guy, and I think overall it’s fun bc you know how this is going to go bc hey it’s John Wick- but it’s not really formulaic how most action movies go. I have strong convictions that John Wick is John Constantine’s new identity (or at least the alternate universe version ) and I’m glad to see he’s given up smoking.

John Wick 2

Soo I have no comments excepted that Italian guy’s a slimeball. And poor John Wick. And are people still trying to kill John Wick. They’re all like “Oh JOHN WICk 0—o, he’s so bad, I can take him.” Idiots.

——-The Italy Continental is way more swanky and the tailor and weapons vibe is cool but a lil weird. The whole pigeon man thing seems weird too like honestly he didn’t need him- he’s kill people with a PENCiL as we’ve heard multiple times. I’m sure he could’ve got creative for a few seconds - since he already had to steal the other gunS. And Laurence Fishburn’s incessant laughing. The mirror/fun house thing was nuts. Anyyyway like I said poor John Wick.

John Wick 3 Parabellum

I have to say the best part of this movie was probs the horse. Forget John Wick can use a pencil to kill a man - he knows how to use a horse as a weapon. I also just wanna know how the normal people in this movie act - like there should just be extra scenes past the credits that are normal people saying “You’ll never believe what I saw today when I was on my lunch break,” or the news covering “Breaking News: 45 Russian Men Found Dead in a Warehouse Used for an Illegal Car Ring.” But I digress, as the third film of this series it holds up solid and was enjoyable- and I KNOW the plot is every contract killer in the world is trying to kill John Wick but it felt a tad heavy on the fight scene- like they were just realllllly looong. (I KNOW OkAY). But let’s just say if everyone’s getting all high and mighty about the rules and EVERYONE KNOWS EVERYTHING- they should know Santino’s a weasel right?? And that’s my qualm. Shouldn’t this bounty have really been for Santino? Espppecially considering he was manipulating the HIGH TABLE??? But whatever.

Rating: 7/10 Puppers 🐶

(SORRY John Wick😬)

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xenokiryu · 30 days

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It's obviously not like- Plane related like the last post, though it has me thinking a fair bit at 5am.

But I DO often think about how one of the reasons my "big" car accident wasn't as bad as it could of been was because of the snow we landed in off of the road. (That was something I had been told) But the rental car was TOTALED and spread in the snow, the driver, myself, and the dog were fine, which ya know was amazing with how the car just ate ground the way it did.

But honestly? I remember the car swerving sharply to the right, it hitting the edge of, what I assume now being small snowbank, and then jutting upwards into the air and down hard through the snow until it just stopped, almost clipping an electric box and like... it still cycles through my head from time to time. But it just went from seeing a gray road to nothing but white, barely in a span of a few minutes like I STILL cannot fully process it, even 4 years later.

But I do remember, was that after we fully stopped, I was laughing like my life depended on it and I STILL cannot explain it other than my brain just forcing me to see the whole situation as something else and only then did it actually connect that like- I could have been seriously hurt when we were on our way to the Hospital, like it came crashing down hard and I couldn't just process it anymore and it just went.

And one of the things I do remember after getting to the Hospital was that the Doctor tending to me and the driver was that we did pretty well for the situation we were put into and one of the things I was told was that "Any accident you can walk away from, is a good accident." Like honestly, I doubt most walk away from some unscathed like we somehow managed but like- it's a good thought to have.

But the very next day I couldn't even move from my bed, like my whole body was insanely sore, that lasted a week but I did ask about it once, and I was told it was because of the body locking up and bracing for an impact.

But anyway, like I had nightmares about it for the better part of the year after it and I wasn't even the one driving. I was a passenger, it wound up messing me up fairly bad to the point I REFUSED to get into a car with another person and if I was forced to, then it always wound up with me bordering on a panic attack whenever we'd hit a quick or sharp turn. Like- I'm STILL terrified of being in a car as a passenger, I can't sleep in cars during long drives anymore cause of it, that whole incident alone was enough to shuffle everything in my life.

That lasted for practically 2 years for me. The Nightmares only for 1 year but they occasionally come back, but sleep? My sleep hasn't been normal during these now officially 4 years since then.

Like- I don't talk about it because everyone's experiences with their car accidents are different and there's varying types of accidents. But like- it's been about 4 years now since I've actually been in it, technically speaking, 4 years as of January 11th.

But I make it usually a point not to say anything about it cause I personally do not want to go back to it, it messed me up in ways that has most people who do actually hear about it tell me that it isn't that big of an issue. But it absolutely is a big thing to me, cause it's not the only situation where I've come that close to being severely injured or dead.

I make light of it sometimes because it helps me cope with it, it's never in an edgy self-depreciation way, it's a way to let me know that "I'm okay, I'm okay now".

But the fact that I even make mention to it loosely sans the details, its because it was one of the key reasons I had to quit the inventory job I had. I worked there for 8 years and been in too many instances of safety neglect.

Like- its one of those experiences that you can't grasp until it happens to you. But like, if we'd had even been 10 inches to the right from where we ran off the road, we would have been in so much worse shape.

And that scares me to think about.

10 inches and we would have hit the electric box. Like, it's frightening for me to think about.

And sometimes it pops in here and there, especially when it starts to snow, it ends up taking me back to it and reimagining a different outcome of the whole thing. But like- it fucks with me so bad. Though every now and then I get those Nightmares still.

But hey! I'm still here! Another situation that stupid ass luck occurred.

#Trezzie's rambles #Get to know me #Long post #Trezzie's experiences #One of three incidents that I think about a lot #another is when I was much younger and stupid #and the other being almost 13 and getting nesrly hit by a speeding car on Halloween #But I dont think Ive ever talked about it #like-#I get panicky sometimes when I think about it

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foli-vora · 3 years

Text

more than words, pt.3

A/N: Thank you for all the love! 🥺🥰 overwhelmed by the reaction I’ve had to this story! Super excited that so many of you are coming along for the ride! There is a tag list for this—let me know if you’d like to be added! (I apologise if I’ve missed anyone!) I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x f!reader, best friend!Benny Miller x f!reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, general first date nerves that trigger my anxiety x10

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

He was trying to listen. He really was, but God, how many times can you hear the same thing over and over and over again before you start to drift away from the conversation? He knew the answer. He had a very short attention span when it came to certain subjects – he’ll admit that freely – so when you continued to gush about his best friend, his main man, naturally his attention fell to the couple seemingly having an argument by their truck in the parking lot. Hmm… wonder what they’re fighting about? He purses his lips, watching the girl deliver one hell of a slap across her boyfriend’s face and strut away, tears streaking mascara down her face. Cheater. Definitely a cheater.

“Benny? Are you even listening to me?”

His eyes roll back to you, taking in your narrowed eyes and angry chewing as a slice of pizza dangles from your hand. Was he listening? Well, he did for the first few minutes… does that still count?

He finally answers, tone flat and uninterested. “No.”

“Ben.”

He shrugs, gesturing to the scene outside the window with a flick of his head. “Malibu barbie just smacked the shit out of her beau.”

Your head snaps to where he was looking, shamelessly curious. “Cheater?”

“That’s my bet.”

You both fall quiet, watching the strangers play out a scene that really should belong in a cringe-worthy daytime reality show while you chew. It’s almost depressing, how eagerly you both watch someone else’s life seemingly crumble in public. But the longer they scream and cry, the longer they yell and fight, the harder it is to tear your eyes away.

“Shit.” Benny sighs, reclining in the booth and stretching his arms up and behind him once the couple in conflict goes their separate ways. “That was the most interesting thing that happened to me all week.”

“Not me,” you sing with a smile, fondly remembering the phone calls and texts you had been sharing with Frankie the past few days. Benny sighs in irritation, neck cracking as he rolls his head on his shoulders.

“I swear, if you talk any more about Fish, I’m gonna throw myself out of this fuckin’ window.” He levels you with a challenging stare, lips twitching as you eye the glass critically. “I’ll do it, too. Try me.”

Deflating, you sag in your seat and fiddle with the peeling label on your beer bottle, realising with a wave of slight shame that you had been talking about Frankie ever since you sat down at the table. “I’m sorry, Benny. I’m just excited. He seems really cool, and nice, and –”

“Alright then.” He stands abruptly, kneeling on the worn leather to brace a shoulder against the glass panel with a look of severe concentration.

“Okay! I’m sorry, I’m sorry – sit down, you idiot!” Laughing loudly, you tug at his shirt until he sits with a lazy grin and you shake your head. “God, you are such a child, Benjamin.”

He snorts, pinching a cold fry from the basket in the middle of the table and waving it at you. “You love me.”

Grinning, you snatch it from his fingers, and chew it loudly, grinning at his pout. “I sure do, especially when you set me up with your gorgeous fri–”

He groans loudly, “Enough, woman. I’ll throw you out of this fuckin’ window in a minute. Get me another beer.”

“You’re callin’ the wrong friend, angel.” Benny drawls lazily, “I’m no good with these kinds of pep talks.”

“Benny, I’m freaking out, please –”

The car feels small, cramped. The open windows letting in the cool evening air does nothing for you trying to suck in a lungful of oxygen as you pull nervously at your jacket. Have you overdressed? Underdressed? What would he be wearing? You hadn’t been on a first date in months.

“Look, I can almost guarantee you he’s somewhere having this exact conversation with another friend of mine. You’re both stress heads. Just relax – he’s gonna love you.”

You stare vacantly at your steering wheel, swallowing around the lump of anxiety stuck in your throat. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

He snorts in amusement, “Well, if you’re gonna do it, do it now – puking on the poor guy isn’t a first date thing. And don’t forget to rinse your mouth out.”

Leave it to the younger Miller to make you feel ten times worse. “Oh God. Ben –”

“You’ll be fine. Now get out of your car.”

“But –”

“Get. Out. of your car.” He waits, listening intently to the mechanical whirr of your windows as they close, smiling when he hears the loud thump of your car door shutting. “There we go. Now breathe, and get marchin’ – you got this. And don’t call me again – I’m watching a fight. Pay per view isn’t cheap.”

“Right. Sorry. Thanks Benny.”

“Anytime, angel. Have fun.”

You ring your hands as you start walking the short distance to the bar, running through a last-minute check of your appearance. Nothing in your teeth. No stains on your clothes. You fidget with the hem of your skirt, brushing the non-existent dirt from the fabric and making sure it’s not horrifically tucked in to your underwear at the back.

Oh God, your palms are so sweaty. What if he shakes your hand? His hand will slide right off. He’d be mortified. Who even goes for a handshake on a first date anyways? You’re being silly. Everything’s fine. You look great. Did you put deodorant on?

The twisting of your stomach and panicked rush of thoughts thankfully pause when your eyes catch Frankie standing outside the bar, hands buried deep in his pockets and dark eyes flickering around at the passers-by somewhat nervously. When they land on you, the apprehension seems to melt from his shoulders and he grins. Unable to stop the smile creeping on your face in response, you now walk without the sick feeling of anxiety creeping up your throat.

He strides forward to greet you, and for a brief second, you wonder how you should greet him. It’s not like you were strangers, per se, you had been talking on the phone all week, but where did you stand in the physical sense? Certainly not a handshake.

Throwing caution to the wind, you bounce forward and greet him with a hug, hoping to high heaven he doesn’t push you away and call the whole thing off.

He doesn’t.

Inwardly screaming, you melt at the feeling of a pair of strong arms winding around your waist, a small quiet chuckle brushing past your ear. Oh shit, oh fuck… he smells divine.

“Hi,” you mutter shyly when you pull away, a flush of warmth flooding through you from top to toe when he smiles kindly and hovers only a step away.

“Hi,”

You can’t help but admire his features up close; the ones that were lost on the photo Ben had shown you when first trying to convince you into this arrangement. His eyes were a lot darker, tousled curls longer than they had looked when they were hidden under a well-loved hat. A light flush of pink sweeps up his neck and along his cheeks, and you watch it fondly with a wild flutter of your heart.

Okay, you could just stand here all night and stare at him, but that might freak him out a little… maybe try speaking. Talk. Just talk. Say something smart – something stimulating. First date impressions and all that.

“It’s fucking freezing.”

What? No. You did not just say that. Seriously? That’s what had to bubble from your mouth? Are you kidding?

You want to face palm, want to just turn around and march right back to your car with a text to Benny saying ‘thanks, but we can’t be friends anymore’ and just disappear from the face of the Earth. God, he’s going to give you so much shit for this.

Thankfully though, Frankie doesn’t seem bothered by your blurted out statement in the slightest, and even grins, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, it is.” He watches you shift on your feet, smile widening just a little more at the look of complete horror that had just washed your features before he had spoken, and then half turns, “Shall we?” Oh God, what was that? Pope’s gonna kill him. You’ve got his head in a complete spin and now he’s forgotten Pope’s whole pep talk. Shit. Shit. Be cool. Be cool... what the fuck does ‘be cool’ even mean?

The bar’s warm when you both walk in side by side, Frankie’s hand placed softly on your lower back as he leads you to the bar, and then through to a spare table, nestled out of the way and tucked into the farthest corner after he buys your drinks. He lets you sit first, and you’re pleasantly surprised when he stays close and, instead of sitting opposite you, he sits to your right, knees bumping yours softly under the table.

It’s not until you both sit, quiet and fiddling with your beers while sharing nervous smiles, that you remember something you had been meaning to ask all day.

“Oh. How did Mena’s appointment go?” You ask immediately, recalling his slight worry the day before over her slightly warmer than normal forehead and uncharacteristic crankiness. Your stomach plummets when he shoots you a startled look.

Oh no… have you blown it? Were you not meant to ask about kids on the first date or something? What were the rules for this kind of thing? You’d never dated someone with a baby, you had no idea what was okay to ask and what wasn’t. You guys had literally only just sat down, and here you were, ruining it already. That’s got to be the quickest end to a date, well… ever.

Panic creases your features and you frown in worry, “Sorry, should I – should I not have said anything? I’m sorry, I’ve never –”

“No, no – you’re fine! I just… I didn’t expect you to remember.” And then he smiles. Blindingly. The dread crushing your chest quickly morphs into something sweeter, something that has your heart quickening. “She’s okay – she’s getting her molars. Thank you for asking.”

You smile, turning bashful under the pure admiration shining in his eyes, and shrug lightly.

“It’s alright. I was worried for you.” You’re quiet when you admit it, unsure if that’s something you should be upfront about with only knowing him for such a short period, but he seems to take it in stride, smiling fondly at you and reaching a hand to cover yours softly. The immediate heat from his skin encompasses yours, shooting wave after wave of electric tingles up your arm and straight to your chest.

If your pulse was racing before, it’s downright wild now.

He flushes when your fingers part ever so slightly, letting his nestle in between yours, and then you’re smiling at each other, laughing quietly as the awkwardness all but evaporates.

You talk about everything. Growing up, moving around, Frankie’s time in the military being a pilot. You have so many questions, but pick up on the wave of tension that rolls through him at the mention of flying. For a short moment, you wonder why he didn’t want to talk about such an achievement – being a pilot was incredible, but not wanting to ruin the easy-going atmosphere that had fallen over you both, you leave the topic of flying instantly, and switch for talking about Mena, thankful to see the light return immediately to his eyes as he gushes about his little girl.

“Can I ask a question?” You ask sometime later in the evening, now comfortably closer to Frankie as your legs tangle under the table.

He hums, sipping on his third beer and nodding, “Of course.”

You watch your fingers play with his on the table, before grinning up at him slyly, “Why ‘Catfish’?”

He groans, throwing his head back with a chuckle, and wipes a hand across his face.

“My whiskers.” He finally admits with a playfully defeated sigh. When you frown in confusion, his grin widens, and he scratches his fingers along his jaw and through the patch of facial hair. “The guys used to give me shit because I can’t grow much more than this.” He gestures to his face, rolling his eyes. “Used to say I had whiskers – like a catfish, apparently.” He chuckles, shrugging light heartedly. “It just seemed to stick after a while.”

You’re laughing, and it keeps the smile planted firmly on his face. What a sound.

“Well, it’s an interesting nickname, but I think I prefer Frankie.”

He softens, unable to resist melting closer to you, and nods, “Me too.”

He likes the way you say it… sweetly, softly. He’s desperate to hear it fall from your lips more, in all sorts of ways.

Disappointment floods you both when you notice the late hour, Frankie explaining dejectedly that he should probably go and relieve his babysitter before said babysitter gets too comfortable with his refrigerator and the beer in there. You can hear the fondness in his voice when he tells you about his sitter for the evening, Mena’s tío – another close friend of Benny’s apparently – as you leave the bar, his hand automatically falling to tangle with yours.

“I’m this way,” you point a thumb over your shoulder, fully expecting to say your goodbyes outside the brightly lit bar, but frowning in slight confusion when he merely nods and starts to walk the way to your car.

“Oh – are you parked over here, too?”

He shakes his head, pointing to the complete opposite direction. “No, I’m over there. I don’t want you to walk to your car alone.”

Your insides turn to jelly, smiling to yourself as you grip his hand a little tighter. Thoughtful. He returns your smile, but hates that you seem so surprised by the notion of being walked to your car in the dark. What kind of losers had you dated previously that either didn’t walk you safely to your car?

“Thank you for tonight, Frankie.”

He grins, thumb rubbing soft circles over your knuckles. “Thank you – I had a great time.”

“Next time, it’s my treat.” You say, hoping you weren’t thinking too much of something that wasn’t there. Would he even want a second date? Was he just being polite saying he had a good time? Is that what people said before never calling them again?

Unbeknownst to you, Frankie was having a hard time reigning in the enthusiastic excitement that had flooded through him the second you had spoken. You wanted another date? With him? He had to mash his teeth together to stop the eager grin threatening to break his face completely in half. Thank God he hadn’t blown it. You were… God. You were fucking incredible. He owed Benny – big time.

“I can deal with that,” he eventually agrees, face warm and giddy at the prospect of taking you out again.

You turn and envelope him in a hug when you reach your car, breathing in one final lungful of whatever delicious aftershave he had used, and smile to yourself against his shirt when he folds his arms around you, a hand cupping the back of your head to keep you pressed tightly against him.

Pulling back to say one final goodbye, you’re struck by how close his face seems, eyes flicking across his face before meeting his dark ones.

Suddenly trapped in a gaze that had a fire licking up your spine, your breath goes in a stuttered exhale. Rough fingertips trace your jaw, and then you’re holding your breath entirely as he leans in closer. Anticipation kicks in, heart thumping through your chest as he closes the distance much slower than you would like, and you fight away the wave of impatience that screams at you to just push forward and kiss him.

You don’t expect him to stop however, only a breath away from your lips, and you panic for a small second, wondering if you’re doing something wrong, but when he murmurs a quiet question, it takes all the strength in your legs to not fall to the fucking ground in a lump of melted goo.

“Can I kiss you?”

God yes. Please.

Unable to stop the shy smile that tugs at your lips, you try not to nod too eagerly and definitely fail miserably. You want this, more than what you’ve ever felt with anyone else. Frankie had you feeling like a giddy teenager with a huge crush and you were desperate to feel more of it, to see where it goes and what it could develop into.

At your nod of approval, he moves in the rest of the way, hand moving to cup the side of your neck below your ear, and he sighs lightly when your soft lips finally meet his. The kiss is tender, warm, and does nothing to soothe your raging pulse. He can’t hear your heartbeat, can he? God, can you hear his? He briefly worries, but when your lips move against his, his mind blanks.

His moustache tickles your lip, nose bumps gently with yours. Your hands find his chest, fingers gripping at the soft material, and for a moment it feels like you two are the only ones in existence, floating in a hazy whirl of space.

You take a minute to open your eyes when he eventually pulls away, and when you do, you find him gazing at you with a shy smile and a rosy flush across his cheeks. Lashes fluttering as you blink, you try to get a hold of your heart beating heavily against your ribs while your lips tingle from the aftershocks of his kiss.

Holy shit.

Before you can even think it through, his shirt tangles in your scrunched fist and you pull him back to you, replanting your lips against his with a desperate urgency he meets head on and returns eagerly. His hands, previously gentle, now grip at your waist, squeezing the flesh greedily as you let him walk you back into the side of your car. The metal is cold, even through your jacket, and you arch into him, moaning softly when his tongue traces your lip.

Your knees buckle when his tongue tangles with yours, and he presses you harder into the car to stop you dropping.

“Holy shit.” He breathes huskily after separating, lips widening into a grin when he sees you mirroring his breathlessness. You giggle softly, the fire roaring in your stomach turning into an affectionate warmth that floods your system when he brushes his nose along yours tenderly. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Stop.” Your smile turns shy, teeth digging into your lips as he chuckles again, dark eyes shining. He watches you wrangle your breathing into something semi normal, glad he wasn’t the only one that got swept up and carried away with the moment.

He traces your cheek, planting one more, less hungry and more affectionate, kiss to your lips.

“Goodnight, mystery girl.”

“Goodnight, Frankie.”

He backs away, face split as he smiles, eyes admiring you before he turns and starts to meander away to wherever he was parked, turning to look at you over his shoulder every few steps. You climb into your car, grinning at the final wave he sends you before disappearing around the corner.

Finally alone in your car, you let out the disbelieving chuckle you’ve been keeping in all night, face feeling hot as the aftereffects of such a great date rests pleasantly in your stomach, mind running through every little moment of the night. Starting your car, you start the drive home, unable to stop touching your lips every so often, insides clenching at the memory of his lips moving against yours.

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed @emilykjh @peterhollandkait @sara-alonso @starlightsearches @bookishofalder @empress-palpat1ne @shadowolf993 @rosiefridayrogersunday @canyonmirrors @eoz-stuff @blackonemasie @layniapetrovnaaa @alberta-sunrise @goldielocks2004 @betterthanbucky @linkpk88 @afootnoteofhappiness @livilottie

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #benny miller x reader

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darkacademicfrom2021 · 3 years

Text

Away. So, so far away.

"There wasn’t a single moment where he could forget how fragile you were. How different your life span was compared to his —he wanted to give you all of his enormity, all of the years that wore too big on his bland and heavy life.

He couldn’t keep you by his side forever".

Pairing/s: Loki x reader, Bucky x reader

There's 2 alternative endings, a "choose your own adventure" kind of thing.

<<Previous part Masterlist Next part>>

Warnings: angst. God, believe me, this is so fucking sad. Sorry about that. Some fluff, implied smut, Odin and Frigga's A+ parenting (/s). Thor being a little bitch. Reader not wanting kids.

Total word count: 16,3K (this was supposed to be an oneshot???)

Chapter word count: 4,6K

If you had to choose the best outcome from working with the Avengers (or, more specifically, under the economic decisions of Tony Stark), it had to be the hotels he chose for the team on the missions.

The rooms were always a bliss —you would’ve never gone to such fancy places if it were up to you. You didn’t think it was worth the money at all, and you didn’t fit into the overpriced lifestyle of those who loved the five-stars everything.

But your work was something you had to do, and, let’s say the comfortable beds, big bathrooms and incredibly talented chefs making your breakfast wasn’t something you had to work hard for you to enjoy.

And now, as your sore muscles ached and your fogged head went everywhere and anywhere, you thanked greatly to be able to be there that night. Peaceful. Tranquility washing over your back in the form of drops of water.

The mirror was covered with steam and a curtain blocked your way, but you still noticed the tall figure of Loki peeping in. You heard his clothes being dropped on the floor and you kept on putting soap over your shoulders, as if he wasn’t there. You were so, so tired, you didn’t even realize that the shower was a little bit too hot for your lover. It even was too hot for you, too.

“Damn”, he gasped as he flinched away from the water. You woke up from your daydreaming and immediately turned the cold water on. The mixture of them formed a perfectly tepid temperature you both could tolerate. You learnt the hard way Loki showered on such cold water your lips would turn blue. “You alright, dear?”, he asked from behind you.

“Yeah, a little tired, not more”.

“You need some rest, take the day off tomorrow, would you?”, he purred on your ear with his hands on your shoulders, giving you a soft massage. His hands moved up to your hair, and he soon began cleaning it himself. He loved to do that for you, and you loved to feel his long fingers caress your scalp, the soap running down your body, the shampoo smell staining his own skin and leaving the shower smelling the same.

“I have to finish this mission up”, you mumbled. “But once we’re back to the compound you bet we’re taking a day off together. You must be tired too”.

“Not that much, but I can’t deny a day off with you”, you felt him smile, even though you weren’t facing him. You knew how and when he smiled; you memorized the curve of his lips and every situation it would curve. His smile did things to you. “You know I don’t get tired off of these things”.

“Yeah, it’s almost like you’re a God or something”.

You both laughed softly. He gently pulled your head back and cleaned off the shampoo. He kissed your temples, all the way down to the nape of your neck, and kept kissing each protuberance of the spine, bone by bone, as if missing one would make it feel left out. As if every inch of you, every single bit of you, deserved the same praise and the same love —it did. He made sure you knew that.

“It’ll be all over soon”, he promised in a whisper. You sighed.

“Don’t worry, my love. It will pay off”, you assured him. You turned around to face his furrowed brows. Standing in your tiptoes, you reached his forehead and planted a kiss where his frown disappeared as if by magic. “Now it’s my turn to wash your hair”. He smiled and kneeled before you, so you could reach his head.

You shampooed and conditioned his hair slowly and silently. He closed his eyes, not letting you know he was overthinking about everything he was making you do, and how much he appreciated you doing it.

“You know…”, he murmured, his deep voice almost getting mistaken by a groan if it weren’t for the clearly spoken words, “we could stop all of this, if you see it… surpassing your limitations”.

He opened his eyes and raised his head to meet yours. Those puppy eyes of his. You scoffed.

“Limitations?”, you cocked an eyebrow and smirked teasingly.

He laughed and rolled his eyes.

“You know you’re a weakie”, he said jokingly, emphasizing on how bad that word described you at his gaze. “Now, seriously. I’m aware it’s a lot. A lot, lot”.

“Love, you don’t have to keep worrying about it. I accepted because I love you so, so much. Some even could say too much”, you caressed the back of his head and sank your fingers in between the curled strands. “I may not agree with it ideologically, but I can make a little sacrifice if that means being with you for the rest of my life. And, for the record, it’s not as much as you think”.

He didn’t say anything else to that. He simply smiled again, pressed lips in the tiniest curve, as if repressing it would make it last longer, and let you wash the conditioner off him.

You could do very well with a day off, though. Between the missions that seemed to never stop and only get worse week by week, and the infinite amount of trials you had to go through by the Asgardian royals, you thought you may pass out any time soon.

The trials… ah, the weirdest thing you’ve ever had to do in your life. And that was not little to say, for you had fought freaking aliens and helped supersoldier’s wounds to heal in a matter of seconds with Stark’s subdermic nanotech.

Loki had a possibility, a chance to have everything he ever wanted to have, and he could’ve taken it. They said ‘you can have the throne now’, as if it had always been that easy, and he didn’t take it right away, as if it hadn’t been the thing he most wanted.

“The thing I most want, little darling, is you”, he told you when he explained what had happened.

And you swore he was about to propose —he almost took off a damn ring off his pocket. But he didn’t, and instead, he related carefully and detailedly what had to happen before he could marry you, if he were to get the throne. You had to show your in-laws you were a good companion for the King.

And that sucked. Why did it matter so much? You loved him and he loved you, and he was going to be a great King. That was all that mattered for both of you. But the conditions were very clear, and had no room for argument. And you wouldn’t let Loki give up his unfulfilled wish to rule the realms, nor would he give it up now that he had the chance.

So there you were, balancing between the missions and the trials. Which were very sexist, in fact. Who would’ve thought royals and Gods would be so conservative? You laughed. They varied between many housekeeping duties, archery, Asgard’s history, a lot of politics, the cooking and baking of different Asgardian treats, and a lot of those idiotic kind of trainings of putting books over your head and walking in heels. They said they had to transform an avenger into royalty, and you almost laughed in their face. Loki did.

It was impossible you'd ever actually become who they wanted you to change into. A submissive and silent companion, not possessing any other ability than smiling politely and attending your husband's needs? You were so incredibly far from even being like that, that not even Strange could see a reality in where you'd do it.

But you could pretend. You passed the first dozen trials, and passed them well. Odin had started growing a certain liking to your attitude, much unlike Frigga, who was increasingly repulsed by it. She was trying her best in transforming you, a lost cause in her eyes, into whatever she found fitting to accompany her younger son.

"Your mother's idea of a 'good' partner is very different from mine", you said over a glass of wine, waiting for dinner to finish cooking. Loki was sitting over the counter reading a book. He closed it over his lap and marked the page with a wooden spoon that was on handy.

"Mine too", he sighed. "She doesn't see that you already are perfect".

"I don't think she'd see me with your eyes".

"You must remember she was raised to be the princess that would someday marry Odin. She has no other view of marriage than… changing the true self. Much as she taught me shapeshifting, we have all learnt different ways to hide underneath a veil of lies and deceiving".

You took in his sincere words and went back to silence for a while. He didn't go back to his book, instead, he looked at you. He wanted to know what you were thinking about, but asking felt like an intrusion of some sort. You looked back at him, an invitation to ask. He then asked,

"How do you feel about it?".

You nodded with no reason to nod. Pressed your lips in a line, a smile that wouldn't form just yet. Not for this.

"I sincerely don't know", you finally said. He hummed. "I love you, that's all I know. My perception of marriage doesn't mean giving everything and everyone up. But again, in my perception of marriage I never thought I would actually marry a prince. I know this is how it is. I know this is what has to be done".

"It doesn't", he jumped off the counter and surrounded your waist with his arms, resting his head on your shoulder. "Love, this can be solved. I don't want you to resign everything and everyone. This is not how it has to go if you don't like it. Say the word. Say the word and…", he sighed.

"And you'll resign your everything and everyone?", you chuckled.

"You're my everything and everyone, I wouldn't be resigning anything I don't already have".

"Liar. You want this", you said almost in a whisper. Turning around to face him, you cupped his face and kissed his chin. "You can have it. I'm sorry, I don't want you to feel guilty".

"I have reasons to feel that way".

"I'm just being dramatic".

"You're not".

"I really am", you assured him. Love sometimes was protecting him from your thoughts. Love sometimes was waking up from a nightmare where he died and not telling him about it. Love sometimes was not worrying him and lying. Or was it? Were you protecting him or were you creating a demon? "This is your big chance. Do I have a big chance here? I don't. My big chance so far has been being by your side. You make me blindly happy. I don't care if I have to change some things to please your parents, we both know I wouldn't actually change. We can see underneath the acting. You know me".

"I know you enough…", he started saying, with no need to finish it. I know you enough to know you don't want this.

"Let's have dinner", you smiled, and he kissed your forehead.

Love sometimes was accepting, he thought. Accepting you didn't want to talk about it that much. Love sometimes was sharing time. Sharing that glass of wine while sharing moments in the kitchen. Sharing the dinner you cooked together. Sharing time. Sharing. And this… Loki knew he wasn't sharing. He was taking his chance and making you go through it without you wanting it. But you shared —your life, your motivations, your fears, most of your thoughts. And you shared your thoughts about it, yet he could sense that wasn't all. You were keeping some worries to yourself, and that was what preoccupied him the most.

In the training room, you avoided Thor’s blasts and threw your daggers, trying to practice over the little things the Queen had taught you. Loki observed from afar, not wanting to distract you. He stared proudly, knowing who he was going to marry. It was not bad at all.

You had started liking that part of the training. You catched interest for Asgard’s history, politics, and the trainings of archery and dagger-fighting. You grew fonder of the idea of living in his Palace, and, to him, nothing sounded better than you calling him my King in front of everyone. But, whatever would come for the future, would come brightly.

You weren’t closer with Thor than with any other Avenger. And you weren’t exactly friends with anyone. You got along pretty well. Tony Stark liked your fierce personality, and laughed at the contrast between your bitterness in the field to your kind essence in any other situation.

Steve Rogers constantly pointed out how hilarious it was that someone like you would end up with someone like Loki. Both took it personal —Loki thought it was an offence to him, “how could someone as caring and sweet as you end up with that mass murderer”. You thought it was an offence to you, “how could someone as dull and incompetent as you end up with a literal God”.

Natasha Romanoff… She didn’t talk much. But, unlike James, she didn’t even try to communicate. James was interesting, and you were sure you would call him a friend, someday. He wasn’t very talkative, but he was always there. Always laughed at your jokes. He memorized your coffee order. He liked the same shows you did and watched them with you, in silence. He was quiet, but his actions spoke to you much more than any other Avenger. Although, James “Bucky” Barnes, was not an Avenger. Much like Loki. He was just there, he was always helping.

“How are the trials?”, asked Thor, avoiding one of your daggers without much effort. You weren’t actually good at it. Thor had learnt to avoid them for the last thousand years.

“I have a week left, and then it’s done. I think I’m doing pretty good”, you said, hiding your exhaustion. Thor was barely moving and you couldn’t catch up to him as much as you tried. He laughed when you fell, and helped you up, only to blast you again with a tiny electric wave, that at that point you felt no more than a tingling sensation.

“My son”, heard Loki from behind him. He turned around and made a small reverence to her. She smiled and stood by his side, observing you too. “I see their determination”.

“Nothing better for a King’s companion, yes?”, he said, proud dripping off his words. Frigga rolled her eyes and nodded. She wasn’t amused that Loki, from all the choices he had, had chosen a dull midgardian to follow him for less than a century. And then he’d had to choose again. Hopefully, someone who would live longer than a damn heartbeat.

“We ought to have a little talk, boy”, she finally said, and Loki’s heart tightened with nervousness. Very few people managed to get him that nervous over a couple of words. “Join me to a more… private space”.

They walked in silence until his room seemed like the best option. Room was a formal way to call it, for it was huge as an apartment. You both had managed to make a standardized-looking studio apartment into a cozy space, decorated with care and dedication. It was obvious Loki’s good taste and your inherent warmth had a big role on the decorations.

Frigga roamed around the room, observing the hung pictures and passing a finger through the white Christmas lights. She stopped at a particular photograph of Loki and you ice skating. He was carrying you as if you were a feather-weight doll, your seemingly cold hands wrapping his blue neck. Frigga stared at the actions developing at that moment. Under your cold touch, he was half transformed in his Jötun form, completely comfortable. You looked at his eyes with a glimmer that Frigga knew it to be the same Loki looked at you with. You were both laughing, and he seemed to have carried you up bridal style only to tease you into throwing you into a snow pile.

“Mother?”, Loki pulled her off of her thoughts. She turned around. “You wished to talk about something”.

“You seem… in love”, she murmured under a confusing expression. Despite Loki’s perceptiveness, he couldn’t figure out if his mother was repressing a smile or holding back a frown of sadness. Perhaps both.

“I am, mother”, he admitted, appearing a mug of tea in her hand and inviting her to sit on one of the couches. “If I must be sincere with you, as I always have been, I don’t think I’ve ever felt this way for anyone”.

“For a mortal, Loki…”, she sighed and sipped her tea. “You know what will happen now. You’re so… attached”.

“As attached as you are to Father, not as one is to a puppy pet”, he clarified.

“But much more like a puppy pet, they’ll live less than a quarter of your life. Much less. In fact, you’ll blink twice and you’ll be by an empty space on your bed, my dear”.

“I certainly hope you’re getting to a point here”, he scoffed. He’s had this conversation countless times before, and his mother never gave in.

“There is this last thing in the trials…”, she said, raising her eyebrows and getting up to pace around the room once again, barely watching over the decens of good moments in pictures you had displayed on the wall. “One thing that has to be surely not optional”.

Loki sipped on his own tea, looking out the window. He watched the spider boy try the man of iron’s flying boots and crush against a window. It was a much better thing to have his mind on, than in what his mother had just implied.

He didn’t realize it, but a few tears formed in the corners of his eyes, and he had to swallow harder to speak his mind. The implication alone of what that meant… he knew all of this would crumble under his touch. Sooner or later, he would have to make a choice, and he’d choose the wrong thing.

Both options were the wrong thing. There was no way out. There was no right path to follow.

“There has to be a way out of this question. Of this decision”, he hurried. His mother chuckled.

“Given your reaction, son, it doesn’t sound like there’s much to decide. It’s an answered question, and we all know it”.

“Yet you thought it wise to pull them through all of these trials, all of these…”, his lips trembled, and he had to stop to take a breath. “To rouse us with the illusion of the better life we always dreamed of?”.

“I had warned you about it, Loki. There is no us in your daydream for the throne. And much less with a short-lived being such as a midgardian. I had warned you”, she repeated, and rage boiled on Loki’s veins.

“Why is it that everytime I get a glimpse of what a good future could look like, it gets destroyed before it arrives?!”, he lost his temper, raising his voice. The tea fell to the carpeted floor and he didn’t even look at it. Frigga didn’t flinch, and walked closer to him. She gave him an arm-length grab on his shoulders that was supposed to calm him down.

“Hush, little boy… this is for…”, she tried to soothe the wound she opened, but he interrupted her before she could say anything else.

“For my own good? Were you going to say that, Frigga?”, he hissed. His mother dropped the arms. She didn’t like when he called her by name. It implied things he had implied before, and were no less true than what he felt like. Apart. Away. “And must I remind you I’m not a little boy you need to protect and make decisions for? This is ridiculous. I’m given, once again, the illusion of the choice”.

“Oh, Loki, when have I ever given you a golden apple you couldn’t actually reach?”, she folded her arms, furrowing her brows. “I’ve taught you magic so you could be unstoppable. I’ve raised you equally, despite your roots. I’ve…”, she enlisted, and Loki’s chest hurt so tightly he thought he’d finally die. He couldn’t speak. “I’ve left everything to your reach. Your arm just wasn’t long enough. You could’ve stretched it further, yet you decided to go for another apple, and that, my son, is not our fault”.

Loki sat on the floor, and she stayed standing. The height difference that would always make her look up at him was now gone, dissolved as the confidence Loki had gathered in the past few years he’s been living in Midgard, away from all of those words. Away from what he considered at some point, the truth. And you weren’t there to hug him and squeeze the lies away —it wasn’t true, it wasn’t true, it wasn’t true, he repeated himself like a machine. It wasn’t true, although it felt so much like it.

“Loki? You haven’t said a word in…”, she began saying, rotting her patience of steel.

“What would you like me to say?”, he asked, blinking some tears away. He got up, not letting her see how much smaller he felt now. Words are just words. “Perhaps you could facilitate me with a script, so I would never wrong my path again, yes?”, he spat sarcastically.

“Oh, son. You musn’t…”.

“Take this personally, I’m aware. Now, if you excuse me, my beloved will come from training any time soon now, and it would be very unpleasant for you to come across them and have to greet them, right? So I’d suggest we wrap up our little chat and you go… Queen around”.

“Now, you’re being just rude. I wouldn’t wish you to fail in anything”.

“I’ve never said that. You said that I’m just too… incompetent to reach, the apples, was it? Were you talking about Iduna’s or was it a metaphor for all the things you’ve taken from me?”.

“You’re putting words in my mouth”.

“You’re right. You’ve never taken anything from me. You’ve never given them in the first place. You’ve only put them near, so I could want them enough, and then give them to your real son”.

“You’re my son, too. You’re a real son, too, Loki”, she extended her palms for him to grab, but he didn’t. Instead, he turned around.

“Excuse me. I must have misunderstood”.

“You certainly did”.

“Perhaps it’s because I live in a world of illusions, and I’m forgetting what’s real and what’s not”.

She nodded, hiding impatience. Without saying another word, she teleported away, disappearing behind a veil of yellow lights, like a flame surrounding and consuming her.

Loki dropped to the floor again, and inhaled and exhaled, inhaled and exhaled, inhaled…

“Love?”, you asked, dropping your water bottle on the table without unlocking your eyes from him. You kneeled next to him immediately. “Love, what’s happening? Are you bad?”.

If he wasn’t in such a state, he would’ve laughed at the comparison of what caring for the other meant in your eyes and his family’s.

He didn’t let you see his face —torn apart, wet with cold tears that solidified to the touch of his skin, the blue form that couldn’t hide when he was too upset, or too broken, like he was right then.

He sank in your arms, hugging you as tightly as he allowed himself to. Grasping for your touch, for you to never leave him, for your soul to never leave your body and stay with him for the rest of his life.

His mother was right, he thought. He was all she said he was, and that hurt him. But it stung him even more when he knew how right she was about his short-lived being beloved. He was going to pull away from your hug and you would take a few more breaths, and that was it. And your worried face, frowning your expression as you couldn’t see what had taken over his lover this time, would become cold as marble.

“Please, please—I can’t live without you, not like this—not anymore”, he sobbed over your neck, sinking deeper into the embrace you would oh so tightly hold and hold —you wouldn’t let him go, not ever, not if you had the chance to. And Loki knew you would actually do it. He’d lose you because you would never agree to that, and with good reason.

“You don’t have to, I’m not leaving. I’m here, Loki. I’m here, love, and you’re alright. Deep breaths, breathe with me, love, come, breathe with me”, you helped him calm down, rubbing big circles on his back, your palms open and warm trying to cover the immensity of him compared to you.

There wasn’t a single moment where he could forget how fragile you were. How different your life span was compared to his —he wanted to give you all of his enormity, all of the years that wore too big on his bland and heavy life.

He couldn’t keep you by his side forever.

He could, on the other hand, keep you as far as he could manage to.

He was already stable, now. You cuddled him on the couch, weighted blanket surrounding his body, a few ice cubes inside a bag for his forehead and neck —you knew it would always make him feel less pushed, keeping his Aesir form costed an extra amount of energy he sometimes couldn’t handle to bare— and your hand kept brushing his hair, braiding it, letting him know he was safe.

He opened his eyes and there you were —an angel, a healer caring for his wounds. He sighed at your sight, and embarrassed himself for even thinking about it. No, no. Of course he would choose you. He would never choose the throne if he had to give you up. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself.

He raised a hand to cup your cheek.

“I’m sorry”, he whispered.

“Don’t be”, you assured.

“I… I have to ask”.

“Tell me”.

And so he asked,

“Would you, ever, at any given point of your life, want to have a child with me?”.

You stayed silent. You looked at him, every bit of his face, every expression that would tell you what he was actually thinking about. Why was he asking this now? After all of this? He knew the answer, why would he bring it up again?

And then it hit you.

“Your Mother was here”, you lowered your gaze. Your legs started bouncing.

“She was”.

“This is a condition”.

“It is”.

“Heir”.

“Not more and not less”.

“What will we do?”, you asked, raising your eyebrows. As you looked for Loki’s eyes to be wet, to have any emotion of regret, they weren’t. He was hiding them very well.

“We will stay here. No more trials. No more boring royal things for you to learn”.

“This can’t be possible”, you frowned in concern. “Loki, this is the thing you most want. You can’t give it up for this”.

“For what? For being with the love of my life? I certainly can and will”, he smiled. It was a sad smile, you noticed. His eyes couldn’t hide what his lips tried to. He noticed you didn’t believe him. “We’ve talked about this over and over. I will bargain more. But as for now, I can see the most likely option will be this one. I propose we get comfortable. You once talked about a house by the mountains and cats, right?”.

“Don’t change the topic, mister”, you frowned and he laughed. You hugged him tightly, and murmured in his ear “are you sure you want this?”.

“So, so sure, my little darling”.

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upat4amwiththemoon · 3 years

Text

The Scary People Next Door part 3

Summary: Two women move to the neighborhood, it seems like there’s more to them than meets the eye.

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Warnings: nightmare (let me know if there are any!)

Word count: 2299

a/n: Finally a new part! Hope you enjoy, feedback is always appreciated :)

Tags: @madamevirgo @fishlikestuff @hi-i-1 @d14n4ol @simpforwandanat @diaryoflife @emilyprentissslut @idek-5

Y/N declines Darcy’s call for the fifth time in the span of an hour. She has been trying to call her the whole day, even Monica called her a few times, but Y/N hasn’t answered to any of them. She knew Darcy would eventually end up knocking on her door and possibly breaking in with the help of Monica’s tech if she didn’t answer soon. She couldn’t bring herself to pick up the phone and talk to Darcy, yesterday’s events still clear in her head.

Groaning, Y/N plays a voicemail Darcy just left her. “Listen, I don’t know what is going on with you right now, but I don’t appreciate you ignoring me. So, you better answer my next call or I’m coming over with Monica. And if you even think about not opening the door, I’ll call Jane and drag her here to drag your ass out of the bed!” The voicemail ends.

Jane Foster, Y/N and Darcy’s best friend, who neither of them have seen in years. Y/N met her and Erik Selvig through Darcy while she was helping with Jane’s astronomy research for college credit. Y/N decided to tag along and help as much as possible. They became close, and still are to a certain extent, but things happen. Darcy had to leave to finish college and become an astrophysicist, Jane got a new job at S.H.I.E.L.D and Y/N had to find an actual job that is in her skill set rather than being strung along with different doctors.

Jane was always known to be a bit bossy. It wasn’t always a bad thing, she needed to be bossy as a woman in that field of work to be heard and taken seriously. For Y/N that meant doing things that she didn’t want to do, like getting a job. If it wasn’t for Jane, she'd most likely still follow Darcy around like a lost puppy, which isn’t necessarily a good thing. She is very grateful for Jane pushing her into getting a job. That being said, she knows Jane would come over and make her spit out everything if Darcy did call her.

Her phone goes off. Y/N rubs her eyes frustratedly before picking up the phone and answering it. “Hi.”

“Hi? You ignore my calls the whole day and all you say is hi?”

“I’m sorry.” Y/N sighs. “I really just don’t feel like talking today.” She mumbles while laying in her bed. She has been laying on her bed the whole day, only getting up to go to the bathroom and get something to drink. She tried to convince herself that yesterday didn’t affect her, but it did, a lot more than she’d like to admit.

”That’s usually the time you need to talk to people the most.”

She did need someone to talk to. The feeling of rambling everything she feels to Darcy was strong, but the guilt of making her problems Darcy’s problems was bigger.

“I’m just tired, nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure you’re okay? Would you like me and Monica to come over?”

Y/N bites her tongue, Darcy’s words bringing her close to tears. The damned question: Are you okay? That one question makes her want to spill out her guts instantly. “No, I’d rather be alone.”

Darcy mumbles something that Y/N can’t hear, probably to Monica. They have a silent conversation while Y/N waits for Darcy to answer her. “We’ll come over tomorrow.”

Knowing Darcy wasn’t asking her whether or not that’s okay, Y/N just hums in confirmation before saying her goodbyes and hanging up the phone. After throwing her phone somewhere to the table, she closes her eyes, ready to fall asleep.

“Hello!” She yells to the abyss, her voice echoing through the never ending emptiness. “Anyone there?” When Y/N’s only answer is her own voice bouncing back to her, she starts walking. At least she thinks she is walking. The space she’s in is pitch black, so Y/N wasn’t sure if she was moving anywhere.

Suddenly she starts falling. Y/N screams as her body flies down with no signs of stopping. She desperately tries to hold on to something, anything to stop her from falling, but to no avail. There’s nothing around her to grasp onto, only darkness and quiet apart from her screams.

A punch to the face changes her scenery. She groans, trying to lift her hand up to her face but gasping when she isn’t able to. Y/N’s eyes snap open in panic. She looks at her surroundings, noticing it’s the same room she was in not too long ago. However, now it was just a little more unsettling. She didn’t know what it was that made her feel so different from the real thing, nothing was visibly wrong. It just felt bad. Perhaps it was because she knew she was in a dream and she had gone through this already.

“Pay attention!” A very distorted voice shouts, punching Y/N to the face once again. She lifts up her head. The what’s supposed to be one of the men that hurt her definitely didn’t look like one. Its whole body was blurry and it moved to every direction. Its voice sounded like someone spoke through a broken megaphone, the voice cracking every now and then.

“What the fuck are you?” Y/N’s voice was a mere whisper compared to the creature.

The thing doesn’t answer, simply smirks, or at least it looks like a smirk. It starts walking around her, glitching when it takes a step forward. As it stops behind the chair, it sets a hand on top of Y/N’s head. She screams, all the pain she felt during that day going through her body in seconds.

Y/N screams as she sits up and looks around her, hands swatting away any remaining feelings of the thing. Her room is darker now, the clock being almost 11 pm. She stands up, runs downstairs and out the front door. This most likely isn’t the best idea, but Wanda did ask her if she wanted to stay at their place. If the question was genuine or not wasn’t clear to Y/N, but right now she’d like to think Wanda meant it.

She didn’t even know why Wanda and Natasha’s house was the first place she thought of. Maybe it was because she felt weirdly comforted by Wanda’s presence, or because they simply were the only people who know what happened.

Knocking on their front door, Y/N starts doubting herself. She almost turns around and leaves, but Wanda opens the door before she can.

“Hey, are you okay?” Wanda’s concern fills her ears. And so the waterworks start. Wanda gasps lightly, pulling Y/N into her arms as she sobs. She whispers sweet nothings to her ear while guiding her inside to sit on the couch. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

Y/N leans more into Wanda, putting her head on Wanda’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She mumbles. “I couldn’t sleep, I just can’t be alone.” She sniffles, backing away from the hug as she tries to stop crying.

“That’s okay.” Wanda has a gentle smile on her face that melts Y/N inside.

The feeling makes her question everything. Why is she feeling this way? She met Wanda only a week ago. These kinds of feelings weren’t supposed to awaken so soon.

“What’s going on here?” Natasha, who neither of the two noticed coming in, asks.

Y/N looks down, letting Wanda take control of the situation. “She’s staying the night.” She says as if it was obvious, which makes Y/N frown. It wasn’t her plan to stay the whole night, not wanting to bother the two, but she isn’t opposed to the idea.

“Only if that’s okay.” Y/N adds, lifting her head to look at Natasha, who only glances at her before turning to Wanda. They seem to have a silent conversation going on. It wouldn’t be the weirdest thing for Y/N if they were talking telepathically, knowing Wanda did have some kind of powers.

Her eyes widen. Is she able to read minds? Has she ever read her mind?

Wanda pulls Y/N up from the couch, bringing her back to the present. “Come on. You seem tired.” She leads her upstairs to her room. “You can sleep in my bed, I’ll take the floor.”

“What? No, I can’t let you do that.”

Wanda smiles, taking Y/N’s hands to her own. “You’re my guest.”

Y/N stares at Wanda’s green eyes, finding herself mesmerised by them. They are beautiful, she could look at them all day. It feels like Y/N is transferred into a whole new world as she feels herself falling deeper into her gaze. Soon she starts relaxing her muscles, Wanda’s gentle smile and sparkling eyes bringing her comfort. Y/N glances at her lips, wondering if they are as soft as they look. Judging by Wanda’s widening grin, she is listening to her thoughts. Y/N averts her eyes back to Wanda’s.

“Go ahead.” Wanda says with a playful tint in her voice. Y/N frowns, making Wanda giggle. “Ask what you want to ask. I don’t mind”

She blushes, trying to drop her head down to look at the floor, but Wanda’s hand on her chin stops her. Wanda knowing what she wanted should have scared her more than it did, but right now she didn’t care.

Y/N gives Wanda a shy smile. “Can I kiss you?” She whispers. If Wanda hadn’t been so close to her, she would’ve missed it. When Wanda nods, Y/N pulls her closer and kisses her. Wanda sets her hands on Y/N’s waist, while her hands travel through Wanda’s hair.

Wanda pulls back, tightening her grasp on Y/N’s hips. Her eyes are a darker shade of green as she kisses Y/N again and again.

For the next two weeks Wanda and Y/N take it publicly slow, hiding whatever they have going on from their friends. Of course, Natasha being a literal spy, she caught on pretty quick. Not that the couple were that good at hiding it. Wanda spent a lot more time at Y/N’s house, sometimes even nights. Natasha wasn’t mad per se, Wanda was so much happier now, but she was hesitant. Dating someone outside of their field of job always proved to be difficult, no matter how many times one of them tried to have a successful relationship. It always failed one way or another.

Wanda didn’t want to think about that. She had heard a lot of dating horror stories from the other Avengers, but she knew she could make it work. She just needed to be careful and choose the best approach of telling Y/N what she really did. She already knew she had magic, that’s one difficult conversation out of the way, and she knew Wanda’s job is something dangerous because of the kidnapping. Not the way Wanda would’ve wanted Y/N to find out, but it’ll make the actual telling easier.

“I’m going to check up on Y/N!” Wanda tells Natasha as she opens the door. She had different excuses to tell Natasha. Checking up on Y/N, helping her cook or fix something, comforting her through hard times and so on. Sometimes they were true. Wanda did help Y/N during a nightmare or a difficult day many times after the unfortunate event.

Natasha hums, her eyes never leaving the television. “Make sure to check her neck better this time, it had quite many bruises on it last time.” Her voice was completely monotone, but she had the tiniest smirk on her face.

Wanda freezes, almost dropping the piece of cake in her hand. “I’m sorry?” She squeaks out.

“I’m just saying.” Natasha turns to look at Wanda. “You two are doing an awful job hiding the signs.”

“I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, so someone else must’ve done them. Or perhaps a mosquito, hair straightener, a match... I know all the tricks, Wanda.”

Wanda closes the door, sighing. “Fine, you’re right. What now?”

“That’s not up to me, it’s your call. Just be careful. These kinds of pairings don’t usually last.” Natasha didn’t want to be so pessimistic of their relationship, she has actually started liking Y/N, not that she’d ever let either of them know. She still wanted Wanda to know the hardships these kinds of situations brought into their lives. “Besides, we can’t live here forever, the mission is almost over, then we go back.”

“I know, Nat, I do. I’m not letting that stop me though, because I really want this to work.”

Natasha nods with a smile. “Then I’m rooting for you two.”

“Thank you.” Wanda’s smile returns to her face as she opens the door again. “Now, I’m going to go and spend some quality time with Y/N, don’t wait up.” She steps outside and closes the door, not waiting for Natasha’s answer. It would’ve been something witty.

Wanda knocks on Y/N’s door, feeling nervous. Natasha was right. Soon they’d have to go back to the Avengers compound and she couldn’t see Y/N whenever she wanted. It also meant going back to no contact missions. They could last months. Wanda didn’t want to disappear for months with Y/N having no way of knowing whether she was okay or not.

Y/N opens the door, but not with the excited look Wanda was waiting for. Her brows were furrowed and she looked almost angry. “Why didn’t you tell me you are an Avenger?”

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #the scarlet witch #scarlet witch x you #scarlet witch x reader #natasha romanoff #the black widow #darcy lewis x monica rambeau #darcy lewis #monica rambeau #jane foster #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #marvel

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antiloreolympus · 3 years

Text

7 Anti LO Asks

1. Do you know what really gets my blood boiling about this comic? Persephone and Demeter's relationship.

In the myths, Demeter and Persephone loved each other more than anything. Their reunion is so important - it marked the coming of spring and growth. A whole cult was dedicated to this for crying out loud. Yes, the myths were far from perfect, but the Persephone and Demeter myth showed the strength of a loving mother-daughter relationship with Demeter searching endlessly to find her child that was ripped away and had her innocence forcibly taken.

Now, RS is not the only author to make Demeter this over-bearing mother type in order to put more positivity onto the Hades-Persephone relationship. However, RS takes this trend to a whole new level - to the point where I would even consider it misogyny.

How is it, she takes this beautiful mother-daughter relationship and makes it out to be an abusive and controlling one, and then takes the Hades-Persephone relationship from a forceful one to a loving, perfect relationship with no problems? How is it ok to ruin one relationship to elevate another?

I understand that many versions of the myth try to downplay Hades' actions, and even make it so Persephone actually falls in love with him and there is no rape. But it doesn't change that this relationship was problematic, and meant to represent the loss of innocence.

Then fans have the gall to claim this comic is feminist and then claim on top of that that Demeter and Persephone's relationship was the same in the myth? These fans clearly don't know the myths, and neither does RS.

Making Hades a good person is fine. Changing it up a bit to make Persephone's loss of innocence something else is also fine. But ruining Demeter and Persephone's relationship? Especially when Persephone has to spend half the year with her? So horrible.

2. im sorry, but rachel cant introduce KRONOS coming back and then dropping it for several episodes to focus on a stake-less trail and persephone not knowing what lingerie to seduce hades in. like thats too much of an earth shaking development and huge stake plot point to just ignore for months to focus instead on something as minor as hxp's relationship, which only points out a huge flaw: why is hxp's relationship so minor in this? isnt the whole point supposed to be about them?

3. I think LO completely dropped the ball over Hades’ characterization.

From the first ep I thought ok, this is good, we have some bones to see he’s not that lucky in love and is just tired and lonely, and while ignoring the creepy actions towards Persephone, I thought ok, Artemis hates him, Hestia hates, even Ares hates him, maybe once Persephone finally sees the underworld and probably gets to know him it’ll be a clever twist and they’ll be proven wrong. The underworld will turn out to be fair and just, the citizens will love Hades, he’ll be revealed to be a good leader and king and not like his brothers, it’ll be like everyone saying Hades of myth isn’t actually that bad, and it’ll help reinforce why this sweet and bubbly Persephone wants him, she sees the real him, not the mean rumors and assumptions, this is perfect.

And then it just didn’t happen. The exact opposite happened, actually.

We’re shown the LO underworld is cruel and unjust, where the poor dead are forced into slavery and Hades created a harsh class divide with him and him only on top, the citizens hate him, the underworld gods don’t trust him and openly seem ok if he’s taken out of power, he’s not a good leader and king and doesn’t even want the job yet keeps it for his own ego and grip of power m, and on top of it all he is just like his brothers, if not worse. He loves to get violent over any little slight against him, he hoards wealth and resources to enrich himself while his citizens starve and struggle to survive, he’s corrupt, he controls all the media and laws to bend to his will, sleeps with his brothers wife for centuries behind his back while claiming to be holier than thou, he has sex with his secretaries who are made dependent on him for any way to survive, and now he lusts after his barely legal intern who is also now dependent on him for her way to survive, and that’s only what I remember off the top of my head.

LO perfectly set up to prove Hades isn’t the devil or the false pop culture assumption that he’s evil and to show some actual facts from myth, and yet Rachel only ended up reinforcing exactly that and even making him even worse with her made up ideas, all while thinking having Persephone ignore or excuse it somehow makes it not bad or even a good thing. It’s honestly kind of impressive just how bad of writing that actually is.

4. Chapter 172 is not that interesting. It’s setup had me excited to see Hephaestus and Hera and learning more about echo, but it’s cut so short. Because again the story can’t leave HXP out for 2 seconds.

I can also see why Zeus is gonna go insane.

5. i agree w/ other anon. LO should have pulled a PJO or a BoZ and just made up OCs and have them interact with the gods than whatever Rachel thinks shes doing, which is lying she's being accurate and faithful while completely changing all of it, removing what is needed, and adding what isnt so that it lines up with no actual myth besides like, various 50 shades fanfic she read in 2015 and some popular tumblr text posts.

6 . the animation studio behind blood of zeus literally can only draw one face for the men and one face for the women and they were still able to make the gods all look distinct and hot while LO can't even bother to use more than 6 colors and can only have the women look as tiny as possible with the biggest boobs while the men are all just lego men.

7. ////FP SPOILERS////

Okay so like I stopped reading LO way back before season 1 ended, and a majority of my knowledge of the series comes from what I read here on your blog which is enough for me lol and I decided to read the latest 5 chapters just to see what's up (on zahard. I refuse to give the actual series any views)

And I just. Could not take the whole scene with Daphne running from Apollo seriously? The anatomy and art inconsistency was so distracting that i genuinely could not find it serious. Even when Thanatos discovers her hibernated body I couldn't take it seriously because of how she looked?

And when Hades had that call (??? Was it a call? Or his inner dialogue? I couldn't really tell ngl) with Zeus and said he's causing Persephone unnecessary distress, and that she didn't pose any threat. B!tch??? She killed a ton of mortals??? She has no control over her powers???? She's literally a fugitive for the aforementioned things??? She apparently woke Kronos up? (Idk if anyone knows about that, again my knowledge only spans to whatever I read here) Hello????

And I have a lot to say about the chapters starting the trial but I'll only mention one thing; Hades saying "I don't think blindly supporting my little brother would be doing him any favours (as a ruler)" had me cackling. This is coming from a guy blindly supporting a girl he's literally only known for a few weeks, who's like what, only recently turned 20? Sit tf down Hades you're not cool, you creepy ass overgrown smurf.

Overall I still hate this series lmao. Regarding art though I feel like I wouldn't be so miffed about the anatomy much if the character designs were consistent and the story was compelling. They literally change hairstyles and body types frame by frame, and it's distracting.

The timeline from what I read here is laughable. 4 years in publication with almost 200 chapters and you're telling me only like a month has passed canonically. That's wild and such poor writing.

And as someone who literally will sympathise with any lead character pretty quickly, the story makes me hate them. It makes me want to root against them. I also hate the fact this trash is somehow top ranked on webtoons when so many other stories are far better then it.

Anyway, many thanks to this blog for existing and allowing me to dump so much text here to vent out my hate for this series lmao. You the mvp fam, hope you're having a good day 🥂🥂🥂

#anti lo #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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studyvibes · 3 years

Text

Another new translation of Maneskin interview

I planned on translating the interview last week, but the day I was free the whole area where I lived had an issue with the WiFi, so through out the week, when I had a bit of free time I translated the interviewer piece by piece.

The translation is of this video: https://youtu.be/4Meslb_X9Fg

youtube

I thought it was best to include the video of the interview because there are videos and images relevant to their answers.

So this interview is by the VK which is basically like Russian Facebook.

In the original video the host speaks in Russian and Maneskin reply in Italian with Russian subtitles shown.

(Text which is bold and in brackets during the translation are some notes I added, to add come context)

Interviewer: For the first time, Maneskin is visiting Moscow, who are the winners of Eurovision. And today we are welcoming them in our studio. Guys, hello. (If you translate exact its: Guys, big hello to you)

Maneskin: Thank you very much

[0:17] Interviewer: The site Kontakte is one of the biggest sites in Russia and also one of the biggest music platforms in Russia, where people listen to your music. In our top charts of most listened songs you are one of the very few international musicians/bands that are included in the chart. In general the chart includes mostly songs in Russian language, so this shows how very popular you are in our country.

Maneskin: That’s very nice!

Interviewer: Please tell me - your international success just happened in 3 months: charts in Russia, charts in Billboard, I think this is the first time ever since ABBA that a musician/band became famous even in America after Eurovision. How did your life change in this span of 3 months?

Damiano: yeah there was a big difference/change.

Damiano: We could say that it was sudden and how we saw everything explode after Eurovision, but we are very happy

Damiano: Ofcourse this means a lot of work is expected because everything that we did before for Italy, we do now around the world. But we are very happy: this what we wanted and why we worked so hard -we are very, very happy/lucky.

[1:30]Interviewer: Going back to Eurovision, I was present at backstage and at the final, sharing happiness about your winning. I’d like to ask, did you know and how did you react to the fact that all artist for the past two weeks were saying that you were the obvious winners, even though the genre of your performance is a complete contrast to most competitor’s songs. How confident were you.

Interviewer: To solidify my words (about being at Eurovision) I have a photo *shows a photo on iPad of Interviewer and Maneskin on the night they won Eurovision*

Maneskin: oh it was you!

Victoria: We weren’t exactly confident. When we went to Eurovision, we thought only about being able to carry our music to a very wide auditorium, but we didn’t expect that we would be able to win - especially with the type of genre we play and sing in Italian - it is not something that appears often in this competition

Thomas: Yeah, that’s true, it was very unexpected and even the people - in Eurovision - were saying “You will win, you will win” - of course to us it was nice, but we completely didn’t expect it. And same with what happened after.

Ethan: (he said something, but they didn’t add a translation to what he said)

[2:45] Interviewer: I’d like to say a few words about our Manizha - Russian Woman (she represented Russia in Eurovision 2021) - were you able to meet her and chat with her? And are you planning to see her in Moscow

Victoria: yes yes, she even sang an Italian song

Damiano: it was something “Ti amo, ti amo”

Thomas: No, no, no, not that one!

Damiano: “Felicità”?

Thomas: No, no. I don’t remember.

Interviewer: (I didn’t hear him but I think he agreed with Damiano)

Maneskin: “Felicità”, yes, “Felicità”!

Damiano: They even sang in multiple voices! (Manizha had back singers with her, who joined her for Eurovision)

Interviewer: So after you won Eurovision, you were congratulated by Eros Ramazzotti, Royal Blood, and Franz Ferdinand. Which congratulation towards you was unusual and unexpected? And what did it mean to you

Victoria: Probably the big groups, which we always listen to, which always inspired us. It was also really nice, already the fact, that they talk about us - it was unbelievable. And because, of course, for us it was very important, that they liked us/valued us. And what most wild/unusual out of is that we got to collaborate with Iggy Pop.

Rest of Maneskin: *agreeing with Victoria’s answer*

Victoria: He is one of our main idols, he is one of the people who created/established punk-rock.

Thomas: Yes, of course, support from big musicians, from people who we listened to from the very start - it’s really wonderful and important/valuable recognition

Interviewer: tell us about your work with Iggy Pop. How did it happen, did he contact you or you were able to reach out to him?

Victoria: We were always huge fans of him. And when everything so well, he saw who we were and what type of music we have, and we asked him, if he would’ve want to produce something together. He said, that he really likes the song “I wanna be your slave.” and wanted to make a collaboration.

Interviewer: I saw that Miley Cyrus made a repost video of where you are performing a cover of her song and said you are her friends. Is there a possible collab with Miley?

Maneskin: Anything is possible.

Damiano: (in English) Who knows

Interviewer: with who would you want to collab?

Victoria: with many, with many! Arctic Monkeys, Foo Fighters, I don’t know.. with so many!

Interviewer: An interesting thing - the group BTS became the symbol of South Korea, making kpop genre popular. You are becoming...you became, the symbol of Italy. Do you feel any responsibility and are you planning on promoting Italian language/ making Italian language popular?

Damiano: We are thinking about making our music, and if our country will choose us to be their representatives, we would be happy. But no, we don’t feel this responsibility, we are thinking of own work/ business.

Interviewer: I can’t not ask very important question which is interesting for the fans - are you preparing an album, can you share some hints/ secrets? Because everyone is waiting for it. And the fact that in one of your songs which was released years back reached the top world wide charts, now we all can’t wait.

Victoria: Its all secret!

Damiano: We can say, that we are preparing new music - this is the secret which we can reveal.

Thomas: Yeah, and we are trying to find time, to write, to work on music. Certainly/undoubtedly, you can expect multiple surprises.

Interviewer: you are a unique group - from the point that your centre/focus is towards all of the members, which is different to other bands where bands are seen as the frontman and the rest of musicians. But each member of your group is seen a big celebrity. Did this happen accidentally or is this the concept you made, and how does your friendship help you with you work?

Damiano: We always tries to avoid the stereotypes of bands/groups, where only the vocalist is recognized/known. We always tried to push not only the group as whole, but also the 4 individuals of the group. And this is probably also happens because of our close friendship. Luckily, nobody feels like they are in the shadows pushed by others.

[7:38] Interviewer: It’s really cool that you change/ remove the stereotypes and create new trends.

Maneskin: We try, We try. We carry our little contribution.

Interviewer: Damiano, I would like to ask you personally a question - from what I am aware of, at the start, the band didn’t accept you into the band, something didn’t work out, could you please tell us in more detail?

*Maneskin laughing at Damiano*

Victoria: He became older, and his voice became magically/suddenly different!

Interviewer: what I understood was that it happened was because you originally sang more pop music, not rock with the band.

Damiano: In reality/to be honest, nothing changed, I stayed pop. Let’s say, I grew, and my voice changed, and I started to sound more earnest/persuasive.

[8:22] Interviewer: How did the band form? You first place of performance was at the street of Rome?

Maneskin: Yes, we started to play in school

Victoria: and since then everything went with the flow. We started to play on the streets, at small establishments, at school - anywhere where we could have an opportunity to perform

Interviewer: what was the hardest in those performances?

Thomas: To find a place where we can perform

Victoria: Yes, exactly, where to perform. And later, it was very small establishments and the audience at the start didn’t take us too seriously. But together as a band we supported each other - in the end, it was our dream, we even liked to perform in front of just a few people, which is why we continued.

Thomas: Exactly, yes. At the start we sometimes performed to an auditorium with a few people, but even then you had to stay convincing/conclusive. Over some period of time, in the crowd, people start to appear who valued our music, what we did. But for me, it was probably, the main challenge was to see, play, perform well and stay yourself in front of 2 or 3 people.

Ethan: Yes, there were times when we performed in front of an audience in which there were only parents. We gave out the same level and the same energy.

Interviewer: I think it is common thing to happen when a musician/ band performs at private party, where Russian musicians performed for one person in the hall.

Maneskin: oh this is something very very private

Interviewer: I think I’ll get in trouble for telling you this, but Little Big told me this story.

*Maneskin recognizing the bands name*

Maneskin: Aaa, Yes!

Interviewer: Ed Sheehan, in his time, took a challenge, he also started from street performing, to make 300 performance in a year. Are you ready to start your world tour and to perform nearly every day?

Thomas: Of course, definitely. The other way it won’t happen.

[10:25] Interviewer: I’d also like to know/ask, if you often spend your time together, as friends, if you have any common hobbies, and what do you do as a break/rest?

Victoria: We practically don’t have any life outside the frame of music, we spend all our time in work. But when we do find spare time, we just go somewhere to relax and have fun.

Interviewer: What simple tip/advise would you give to young musicians which at the moment are street performing but dream to perform in big stadiums?

Victoria: I think, you should continued with your journey and don’t change due to other people’s opinions.

Ethan: Yes, that right. Be always yourself.

Interviewer: your time of fame happened in Italy a few years ago from the show X Factor when you performed the cover from the band the Four seasons on their song “Beggin”. Did you expect that your cover would become a world hit in a few years? And a lot of people associate the song more with you (like more than the original band)

Ethan: Yeah. It’s.... weird!

[11:33] Interviewer: I’d like to show you an interesting photo. The photo illustrates when it was the last time Russia saw Italians. It’s a movie from the year 1974 which is called “the unbelievable journey of Italians in Russsia” do you see any similarity?

*at [11:48] you can see the image of four people: on the left two men happily hugging each other, in the centre a woman, and on the right a tired looking man*

Maneskin: Nooooo *laughing*

Ethan: Wow (the exact words that were written in subtitles were “Да ты что!” Which in Russian is used as an expression of surprise )

Ethan and Thomas point at which person they think they are in the left

Ethan: I am the one in the left

Interviewer: This is actually a very popular Soviet comedy and the movie is about Italians which travelled to Russia in search of treasure, which left was by one of the main character’s grandmother. I would like to know after which treasure did you go after in Russia?

Victoria: I think, our fans, possibly perform, and play in concerts. All the love and affection.

Interviewer: It would be nice if you could watch the movie, maybe during your flight, and share your opinion on social media.

Ethan: ok, will do.

Interviewer: I’d also like to show you a very popular video which was spreading in Russia. Where it was comparing your lyrics from “I WANNA BE YOUR SLAVE” and lyrics from a Russian musician Alla Pugacheva. Both songs have same repeating words: “master” and “gangster”

Maneskin: (idk who said it) I saw it in Tiktok

Interviewer: just in case, I’ll show you the video

*[11:58] shows the video which interviewer talked about*

Thomas: You already saw it.

Interviewer: Your Russian fans, went further, started to look for famous Russian performers who wore similar outfits that you wear. But it turned out that all the similar outfits were worn by on person, his name is Valery Leontiev. I’d like to show you the pictures to show you just how similar his outfits are.

*[13:35] you can see the image comparisons, in the background you can hear Damiano laughing and say “no no”*

Thomas or Ethan: Unbelievable! This is crazy, this isn’t possible.

Interviewer: Yes the similarities are on point/ are exact.

Interviewer: I’d like to conclude the interviewer with genuine admiration because for the past 3 months you exploded the whole music industry, which didn’t happen for ages. And to be honest, it is true what you said about saving your authenticity and believe in yourself. We are very proud of you, Russians love Italians (ik that a lot of old Italian movies and songs are very popular in Russia). Please continue to grow and make wonderful music.

Maneskin: Thank, thank you very much.

————————————-

Hopefully you enjoyed the interview and the translations made sense

#my post #my translation #Maneskin #maneskin victoria #maneskin ethan #maneskin thomas #maneskin damiano #victoria de angelis #thomas raggi #ethan torchio #damiano david #Youtube

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diegos-butt · 3 years

Text

Electricity Chapter 1

Summary: For the first time in her life, Melody Williams is moving out of her hometown to Minnesota where she got a job as a crime journalist for the Minnesota Daily. But this city does not only have a new job for her to offer. What will happen when she crosses paths with detective Walter Marshall? Heads up, a little electricity is involved ✨

Walter Marshall x Melody Williams (curvy OFC)

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 2.5k

A/N: So, I wrote something for the first time 👀 Pls be kind haha. This is written with a plus size/curvy OFC in mind because all my curvy babes, like me, deserve some love 😘

“Thanks for calling me. I will call you back with my decision soon.” I hung up the phone and stared at it in my hand. A woman from the newspaper in the city a few towns over had just called, telling me they were offering me a job at their crime department. I sat at my desk at my current job, a local journalist for my hometown newspaper. I started working there during college and they offered a job after I finished. I happily accepted, because that meant I could move out of my lovely parents’ house and start my own life.

As I sat at my desk I realized I had never really left this town, and I had always fantasized what it would be like to live and work in a different town. I loved my hometown, don’t get me wrong, but it is small and everyone knows each other. Every day is basically the same here. Miss Johnson walks her dog at exact 3pm, the Millers go to the supermarket at 4pm to buy dinner and the whole town eats at Al’s diner every Sunday.

Also, the men in this town aren’t something to write home about. The decent men are taken by the perfect housewives and the ones who are left, are the type of guys who you don’t want to meet in a dark alley. And unfortunately, no nice men have decided to move here in the last couple of years. The only guy I dated (we were only together for a couple of months) decided I wasn’t good enough and eloped with a pretty, skinny blonde bitch.

While the town doesn’t seem to change, neither does my job. I have been covering the local news for a couple of years now, and it feels like I have been doing the same thing over and over again. Nothing really happens here, and honestly it makes me feel stuck at my job. I feel like my job and this place aren’t helping me to move further. I want to learn more and see something else than this town.

Still staring at the phone in my hand realization washed over me. This was my way out. This phone call could change everything. Not thinking twice, I called the woman (I had forgotten her name, Stacy apparently) back telling her I was accepting their offer. This was my chance of starting something new.

In the weeks after the call, I quit my job and started looking for a new place. Luckily, I found a cosy, affordable apartment. Not too big, not too small. Perfect for me and only me. Not wanting to wait, I moved in quickly with the help of my parents and made the place feel a little like home.

It was a cute apartment with one bedroom and a tiny kitchen. I had everything I needed. A comfy couch, my kettle, my books, a tv for my binge-watching nights and lots of cosy blankets and throw pillows.

After moving in and settling down, I finally had a chance to decorate the place with a lot of fairy lights and plants. I stood in the middle of the living area, wiping some sweat of my face after moving around some heavy plants. Yeah, this is starting to look like home. I thought as I looked around the living area, satisfied with the work I did.

I sat down on my couch and looked at the clock on the wall. It was 8pm. I was tired and hadn’t eaten yet. Tomorrow was my first day at the Minnesota Daily and I couldn’t wait. I was a little nervous, but because I was so tired, I didn’t have the energy to be too nervous or to make dinner.

I decided to make a grilled cheese sandwich and go to bed early. Tomorrow was the first day of a new start and I needed to look good. Might need a full 12 hours of sleep if I want to look a little decent, I thought to myself as I stared into the mirror and noticed my messy hair and the bags under my eyes.

After I ate my ‘dinner’ (I decided two grilled cheese sandwiches counted as dinner), I went to my bedroom and picked an outfit for tomorrow. A simple jeans and a baby blue blouse would do it. Afterwards I brushed my teeth and removed my make up. I put on my pyjamas and fell asleep as soon as my head hit my pillow.

After parking my car in the parking garage underneath the building the Minnesota Daily is located, I checked my make up one last time in the rear-view mirror. No uneven eyebrows and no smudges of mascara. Let’s go make a good first impression.

I stepped out of the car and grabbed my purse. I walked out of the parking garage and made my way to the front desk where I was greeted by a friendly older looking receptionist.

“Hi, I’m Melody! It is my first day here and I was told to ask for Stacy,” I said.

“Welcome dear! I’ll let Stacy know you’re here! She’ll be here in a sec,” she said with a smile. I nodded and looked around. People were walking in and out of the building, most of them talking on the phone. They all looked like they were in a rush.

Stacy appeared within a minute. She was taller than me, and I’m not exactly tiny, and her long brown hair was tied up in a bun. She walked towards me with her hand reached out and I quickly took it.

“Hi, you must be Melody! I’m Stacy, but everyone calls me Stace. Come, follow me, I’ll show you where we will be working!” she said while we walked to the elevator. While the elevator brought us to the 8th floor, she asked me how my new apartment was and if I liked the city. Before I knew it, the elevator reached the 8th floor.

“Everyone, pay attention! This is Melody and she will be joining our department as you all know,” Stacy practically yelled the second we left the elevator. I already saw some friendly faces looking at me. “Hi, I am Melody, but please call me Mel,” I said while Stacy walked over to a desk and started to introduce me to my new co-workers.

After I met everyone from the crime department, I made my way towards my new desk. Everyone seemed friendly and there was a relaxed atmosphere. Which was a little surprising to me considering this was the crime department. I looked around and thought: yeah, I made the right call to accept this offer.

Yet, I had no idea what this town had to offer me. Or better said, who.

In the first week I worked there I became friends with some of my co-workers. Carmen Garcia practically forced me to go to lunch with her and Gia Park on my first day. They had both been working at the Minnesota Daily for a couple of years now and they were one of the few women in the department. So, they were glad I was recruited to give them another ally in the office.

While we had lunch, they informed me about everything I needed to know. “You seriously need to stay away from creepy Greg, he works for the finance section. Make sure you never go down there alone. He always looks at women like he wants to drag them into an empty alley,” Gia said while pretending to throw up.

“Oh, he is the worst! But Megan, the receptionist, is the best ever. She is so sweet and kind. If you ever need anything, just ask her and she will help you,” Carmen added.

“Definitely! And if you ever need free tickets for a sports game, just let me know and we will visit the guys from the sport section,” Gia told me with a wink.

“I will keep all of this in mind,” I said while taking a sip from my cappuccino. “but tell me something about yourselves!”

Next thing I knew Carmen and Gia told me where they grew up, where they went to school and how they ended up working for the Minnesota Daily. I noticed how easy it was to talk to these girls and we had a good laugh while they told me about their most recent dating disasters. I nearly spilled my cappuccino not once or twice, but thrice while Carmen told me about how she escaped from one of her dates through the bathroom window.

During my first week I spend a lot of time with them. I helped them finish their articles and I got to know them pretty well. Carmen is tough, but sweet and straightforward, while Gia is soft and has a very short span of attention while working. She has visited my desk every half hour just to “catch up”. But I didn’t complain. It was nice to have them as my co-workers, although they began to feel more like friends.

It felt like my life fell into place again. I was making new friends, and I did a pretty good job so far. Still, sometimes I forgot to do basis tasks like getting groceries. So now I was parking my car in the parking lot of the grocery store.

As soon as I stepped out, I felt the cold chilly air around me, making me pull my leather jacket closer around my body. Hastily I stepped through the doors of the store just a few minutes before they would close. Quickly I grabbed a basket, knowing I should grab a cart, and started to walk through the aisles.

It was quiet inside, just a few people were doing some last-minute shopping like me. I waved hello to the woman at the cash register as I made my way to the first aisle.

So just the basics, some bread, apples, veggies, chocolate. Hmm maybe no chocolate. Okay yes, some chocolate. I deserve it today. What else, milk and cereal obviously. Girl gotta eat some breakfast. I thought as I threw some products in my already way too full basket and made my way to the cereal aisle. I walked passed the apples and picked some up, holding them in my hands.

Walking through the aisle I stopped in front of the many boxes of cereal. Above me I noticed a flickering lightbulb, reminding me I still needed to watch the last episode of Stranger Things. Maybe I should watch it tonight.

Staring at all the different kinds of cereal, I couldn’t decide which one I wanted. After a minute of just staring at the boxes lost in my own world, I grabbed one.

Except, I suddenly wasn’t the only one. Quickly I turned around and bumped into a warm, broad chest which made me drop the apples I was carrying. “Oh shit,” I whispered before I looked up into the most beautiful blue eyes I had ever seen and stared at the man. He had a beard and dark, brown curls. One of the curls dangled in front of his eyes and I had to fight the urge to not wipe it out of his face.

“It didn’t look like you were going to make a decision soon, so I just grabbed the one I wanted,” he said while crouching down to pick up the fallen apples.

“Oh no, no it’s fine,” I stammered, completely overwhelmed by him. “I guess I was zoned out there for a moment.”

While he was picking up the apples, I decided to take a quick look at him. He was a tall, big man wearing a dark blue sweater. Damn it, he is gorgeous. Don’t mind bumping into him more often.. no don’t go there, pull yourself together! I thought as I felt my cheeks burning all of a sudden. I couldn’t even remember the last time I talked to a man this handsome. Get it together Mel.

As he stood up and handed me the apples, I noticed how tired he looked. There were dark circles underneath his eyes, making me wonder when it was the last time he had a decent amount of sleep. Or if he ever had a decent night of sleep.

“Thank you for picking these up,” I said while holding up the apples, making them almost fall again. His reflexes were fast as he grabbed my elbow, helping me keep the apples balanced. The warmth of his hand made my legs suddenly feel a little weak.

“No problem,” he chuckled tiredly making me smile a little. “Maybe you should have gotten a cart instead of a basket, might be easier,” he said while still holding onto my elbow. He pointed with his other hand to my basket that was way too full.

“You are probably right, but my stubborn ass thought I could carry it all, so here we are,” I answered with a timed laugh, feeling a little embarrassed. He looked at me with those blue eyes and I noticed he had a “don’t mess with me” vibe, that somehow made me feel safe.

As I looked at his hand on my elbow, I suddenly became aware of how close he was. I could smell his musky cologne. He noticed I looked at his hand, and he abruptly let go of me while taking a step back. I immediately missed the warmth of his hand.

“I, uh, I need to go. Take care and don’t drop those again,” he told me with a small smile pointing at the apples in my hands. He grabbed his own basket and started to walk away. As he walked away, I took a good look of him. He was a very muscular man, and I took a mental picture of his ass because that was a sight I did not want to forget. I must tell Carmen and Gia about this.

“I can’t promise that, but I will try my hardest,” I laughed, knowing I would probably drop them again soon. “See you around?” I asked him. Surprised by my own boldness I nearly sank through the floor out of embarrassment.

He looked back at me with those beautiful blue eyes and I felt a spark of electricity going through my spine. “I hope so,” he said with a smirk before he shook his head and turned the corner leaving me speechless in the cereal aisle.

I stood there for another minute while coming back to my senses. My cheeks stopped burning and I realized I had not embarrassed myself that much. I smiled to myself and pictured the smirk he gave me in my head. Then the announcement that the store was about to close in a few minutes blared through the speakers, reminding me I still had to collect some groceries.

Quickly I grabbed the rest of the groceries and headed towards the cash register hoping to see him one more time. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found.

I paid for the groceries and walked to my car. Loading the groceries in the trunk I nearly dropped the apples again. Told you, I thought while closing the trunk. It was getting dark and colder outside so I wasted no more time and drove home.

While driving home I realized the mistake I made.

Damn, I should’ve asked his name.

•••

> Chapter two

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