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therenlover · 3 years

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Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?

A/n: In the wake of recent life garbage, I have neglected to write a whole fic, and I’m sorry. In the interim, please enjoy this writing exercise I have put together in the hopes of nailing some characters I haven’t written for in the past in time for a larger project I’m working on! Cheers!

Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, and Helmut Zemo

Rating: T

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Mild Misogyny, Mentions of Alcohol/Alcoholism, Mentions of Mental Illness, Non-Graphic Mentions of Death, Minor Spoilers for The Alienist Season One, Minor Spoilers for Goodbye, Lenin!, Spoilers for Rush (2013), Minor Spoilers for The Cloverfield Paradox maybe??? I haven’t actually seen the whole movie, blame Wikipedia if things are wrong.

Laszlo Kreizler

As the first of all of the Dannys to be put through the ringer, Laszlo Kreizler unfortunately would not survive a holiday with my family.

First of all, this man does not like massive huggy kissy crowds, so he’d already be off his game the second he walked into the packed house. That’s not why he’d die though, surprisingly.

His downfall would be his status as an Alienist.

There is simply so much mental illness and childhood trauma present at my family holidays that he would combust within 15 minutes of sitting in a room with all of my relatives.

Even if he were to somehow make it past the introductory phase, my family is nosey as hell, so they’d be grilling him about his arm and his own childhood trauma within the first hour.

Laszlo, for all of his strength, simply wouldn’t be able to withstand it.

His death wouldn’t come from the initial combustion though. No, it’s not that simple.

Knowing Laszlo, once he had combusted and entirely lost his composure the first time, he would become extremely intrigued about the interconnected nature of everyones issues with each other and he would start asking questions.

That’s where the problems would begin.

Because it’s one thing if my drunk great aunt starts badmouthing her sister at the table for abandoning her 90 year old mother for a lake house with her new boyfriend. That’s fine.

But when Laszlo hops in and starts picking apart the mommy issues and underlying reasons for their decades long sibling rivalry?

Oh it would be over for him.

The yelling would never end.

And, I have no doubt that Laszlo would start to psychoanalyze whoever started to yell at him, which would only lead to more yelling.

In the end, someone would throw a probably full and probably fresh out of the oven casserole dish at his head and he’d be unable to defend himself because of his weak arm.

We’d have to cart him out in a wheelchair and even if he were to technically survive, he’d never come back.

Therefor, Laszlo Kreizler would fall victim to my family and die before we even got to dessert.

Alex Kerner

YES

Ah, little baby Alex! A great contender here for holiday survival.

He seems relatively young in comparison to most of the Dannys on this list, though I don’t actually know how old he’s supposed to be.

Based on his relative youth, he would automatically get points with the fam for not seeming like a creep or sugar daddy. Instead, he could be just about any dude I brought home from college.

His skillset as a semi-skilled laborer would also earn him some points, seeing as several members of the family are in similar professions.

Alex might get lost in some of the more complex conversations about the local organic scene or the fine details of running a fine art gallery, but he would fit right in with the majority of the younger members of the family, smiling and nodding his way through the conversation.

His enthusiasm and optimism would brighten the room and leave everyone excited to see him around again.

There’s also the semi-small detail of him caring for his mother, which would earn sympathy from the older members of the family as they are in charge of caring for my deaf, blind great grandmother.

Now, all of these aspects have already set Alex up for a successful survival of a holiday dinner with my family, but the real secret weapon he has up his sleeve is what really cements him in place as a survivor.

What is his secret weapon, you may ask?

Lies.

Alex Kerner is really, really good at lying, and is even better at figuring out increasingly convoluted ways to keep his lies straight.

If he managed to hide to fuckin’ Berlin Wall coming down from his mother for as long as he did, he could keep a couple of white lies up for appearances if he was asked any potentially embarrassing or weird questions that would make him look bad.

He could also lie about enjoying my great aunt’s cooking, which is a vital skill for holiday survival in my family.

Therefor, at the end of the day, Alex Kerner would not only survive a holiday with my family, but he’d probably enjoy it and get invited back for every subsequent holiday he could possibly attend.

Niki Lauda

Niki is another Danny that falls very firmly into the category of characters that would absolutely not survive a holiday with my family, for many, many reasons.

First of all, just like Laszlo, Niki is not huge on going to big huggy kissy parties.

Both adults and children would be all over him the second he walked in the door, which would probably make Niki get very uncomfortable and cagey.

Little does he know at that point that people aren’t just all over you when you get in the door.

No, no, no; from the moment you show up to the moment you leave, if you’re at a holiday with my family you are being basically accosted with questions and hugs and conversations that get weirdly personal.

It doesn’t help that the whole entire house is packed and there are eyes on you at every moment, so he wouldn’t even be able to sneak in a break for air or a cigarette.

If my own mother can’t sneak out for a smoke when she’s been going to these events her whole life, the new guy who’s still being vetted by the family sure as hell won’t be able to either.

Needless to say, Niki would start to get really, really tired of it all in an hour tops. I’ll give him until dinner at most.

That’s where things would start getting really sticky.

See, a lovely little fact about the Niki Lauda that lives in my brain, as portrayed by Daniel Bruhl in Rush (2013), is that he’s just a little bit misogynistic. No more than would be period typical, but a little misogynistic.

Another fun little important thing to note is that my family is entirely matriarchal in nature.

There are only 4 reoccurring male guests at family holidays out of about 20 to 25 guests at each event; My great aunt’s husband of many, many years, the two male siblings my mother has that live in the area, and the young son of one of those siblings.

Men, specifically boyfriends, simply do not last in my family. They are considered pretty disposable and easily banned from family events after breakups or small mishaps.

So, not only would Niki not have any other manly men there to chat about sports with over a scotch and a cigarette, he would be surrounded by so much estrogen that he would definitely struggle with his inner asshole even more than usual.

In fact, we never have sports on, even on Thanksgiving. Poor Niki would be stuck hearing conversations about artisanal candlemakers and how to hand felt a woodland elf puppet.

Back to his downfall, the second he made a slightly sketchy joke about women in the kitchen at the dinner table to my great uncle, his fate would be sealed.

If you thought the yelling at Laszlo would have been bad, this yelling would be ten times worse, because he would be surrounded by like 20 very angry, very defensive, and very strong women waiting to beat the shit out of him and I would not be any help.

He dug the hole, so he can climb out of it.

In the end, his death would come when he tried to light a cigarette and calm himself down at the dinner table while trying to rescind his earlier statement, because smoking inside around all the precious textile art? Thats a big no no.

My great aunt would grab the lighter right out of his hand, light up whatever cocktail she had at the moment, and throw it all directly into Niki’s face.

It would be like crashing his car all over again, only this time he would be surrounded by people who would rather he burn than try to get him out of the situation.

Moral of the story, Niki would die within the first few hours of a holiday with my family because he made an asshole comment to a room full of women who don’t put up with that shit. Don’t be like Niki, even if you think you won’t get killed for it.

Andrea Marowski

YES

Andrea is pretty much the polar opposite of Niki here, and I love him for it.

He is very soft, very kind, very pure, and would never dare to say something rude at the dinner table like a certain racer we all know.

He couldn’t even say something rude if he tried to, because he probably wouldn’t have the English in his vocabulary to say the things he wanted to say even if he intended to say them out loud.

But let’s be honest here, Andrea would never.

Even with his limited English, Andrea would appreciate being surrounded by a whole bunch of people who think he’s the sweetest little thing since the invention of cake.

My great grandmother, despite being almost entirely blind and deaf, would say he looked darling and he would immediately be a member of the family from the moment he stuttered out his thanks.

Andrea, like Alex, is also relatively young, so he would get points for not being old enough to be my father.

I feel like, because Andrea was shown living happily in a tiny village by the ocean with two old ladies, he would have an appreciation for craft, so he wouldn’t mind sitting quietly as my great aunt pawns off a handmade blanket from my great grandmother to him.

He would also happily sit with the younger children and do whatever craft or simple game one of my aunts brought for them that time.

The cherry on top with Andrea is his skill with the violin.

My family is one that appreciates fine art a lot, but more than anything we appreciate music.

I wouldn’t say that any of us are anywhere close to Andrea’s proficiency, but we definitely aren’t terrible, and we all can appreciate the effort, practice, and talent that goes into getting truly good on an instrument like Andrea is on his violin.

He would be encouraged to play, of course, and he would happily oblige.

If he felt comfortable enough, I could even see my great uncle grabbing his guitar, my cousin sitting at the piano, and my sister bringing out her own violin to do a little quartet with some simple song they knew as everybody else sang along.

By the end of the holiday evening, once dinner was served and people were heading to the cars, Andrea would definitely be considered a member of the family.

Needless to say, he’d survive and pass their tests with better than flying colors, even despite the language barrier.

Ernst Schmidt

Now, Ernst was probably the most difficult one on this entire list to put into the living or dying category. In the end, though, there were a few things that couldn’t be overlooked that send him into bad territory.

To be fair, though, he would last the longest out of everyone who would die tragically at one of my family’s holiday gatherings.

He, like the past two victims, would not be exactly suited for the mushy crowding that’s inevitable when it comes to my family.

That being said, I think he would deal with it a little bit better than the other two did and would make polite conversation with the family when he could.

The fact that he was trapped in a packed house filled with drunk people who have several generations worth of beef with each other, though, would start to get him eventually.

If we consider all of the shit that happened while he was in space to be canonical minus, you know, the earth getting really fucked up, he would probably start to go a little bit nuts while packed together with that many passive aggressive people.

The second someone burst into tears on the way to the bathroom he would start to lose his shit.

Still, I think Schmidt would probably be fine-ish until dessert was served, because that’s about the time where all the adults are absurdly drunk, so insanity ensues.

They would start poking at him about his credentials and experiences as a physicist.

He would answer their questions at first, but, unfortunately for him, the questions would turn more and more personal and uncomfortable as time went on.

Did he ever still think about what happened up in space? Did he blame himself for not getting things to work correctly? How much did he miss his old world and old life? Did he ever have nightmares about what he saw? How much did it hurt to get shot?

They’d poke and poke and poke in their drunken state until poor Schmidt would snap at them, flying into a slight rage at their insistent probing.

From there, he would be swiftly asked to leave and then “accidentally” run over while calling an Uber to take him to wherever he’s staying as my drunk great aunt tries to back out of the driveway to drive down the block to her house.

In the end, Schmidt and his wit would be really close to surviving a holiday with my family , but he would, unfortunately, let his anger get the best of him, and it would be the last thing he ever did. Literally.

Helmut Zemo

YES, BUT ONLY BARELY

Okay, so my earlier comment about Ernst being the most difficult out of everyone was incorrect. Zemo was, by far, the hardest to put into one category or the other.

His wit and charm won out in the end, though, and I determined that he would survive one single holiday with my family.

If he ever came back for a second he definitely wouldn’t make it, but he would succeed in living past the first one.

Helmut’s problems start, surprisingly, not with the fact that he is a criminal. In fact that doesn’t even cause any problems for him.

No, instead they start with the fact that he is 43.

I am 99% sure that my mother is 43, and I know for a definite fact that he’s older than one of my uncles who would be present. I, at the time of writing this, am 18.

Needless to say, literally everyone would be massively suspicious of him and his intentions the second he walked through the door. The amount of money in his bank account definitely wouldn’t help in this situation either.

The family would warm up to him eventually, though, because if there’s one thing Helmut is good at besides killing people, it’s making people like him even if they absolutely shouldn’t.

With his expansive knowledge of what feels like literally everything rich and niche, he would slowly win over the older members of the family. Who knew the strange old man Jac brought home was so well versed in the American pottery scene, or that he could name specific jewelry artists from across the world that my family had done business with for years?

My family definitely wouldn’t. At least, not at first.

Oh how they’d learn, though.

Another nice thing about Zemo that would allow him to survive is his aggressive politeness.

No matter how many weird glances or dirty looks he got over the course of dinner, he would simply continue to be the best version of himself in the hopes of impressing everyone.

He would even pretend to enjoy my great aunt’s cooking and get himself seconds, because I’m sure it would be easier to scarf down than whatever he and his EKO Scorpion squad had to eat while serving in the Sokovian special forces.

On the tail end of reasons he would be accepted, Helmut Zemo drinks alcohol like it’s water, so he would fit right in drinking white wine and cocktails through the night with the rest of the adults.

((I think he’d totally tease me about not being able to drink with him, but that’s a story for another time. Anyways...))

His slight downfall would come from something entirely uncontrollable by him or anybody else.

And that something would be my flirty aunt.

I love my aunt. She’s wonderful in her own special way.

That being said, I know if a hot Sokovian baron with a nice smile and a fat pocketbook showed up to one of out holidays, even if he was introduced as my partner, she would be going for the kill all night long.

This would make Helmut more and more uncomfortable as she got more and more drunk, because lets face it, he’s probably not very comfortable with being touched by near-strangers anyways, and being touched by a drunk member of his partners family who is very obviously coming on to him?

That’s even more difficult to deal with.

That being said, Helmut is a man who has been shown to be extremely in control of his emotions.

He would swallow down whatever awkwardness he felt, make it to the end of the night, and, once he had escaped her clutches, he would politely say that he was never going back to another holiday function with my family again, though he would be happy to facilitate me still attending them.

So, in the end, Helmut Zemo would survive one holiday with his sheer stubborn politeness alone.

I will say that his patience would absolutely wear thin if he attended a couple more holidays and he would eventually die of a stress induced heart attack after being unable to politely decline my aunt’s advances.

For now, though, he’s safe.

#zemo #baron zemo #helmut zemo #daniel brühl #daniel bruhl #niki lauda #andrea marowski #ernst schmidt #laszlo kreizler #alex kerner #jac rambles #imagine #the danny bunch

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zodiyack · 4 years

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Movie-Night With Lucifer’s Son

Requested by anon: I really wanted to read a Jack x Reader where the reader is the younger sister of Sam and Dean, and one day when everyone is watching a movie, Jack, when he sees the couple kissing in the movie, kisses the reader because he likes her and Dean gets really angry lol

Pairing: Jack Kline x Female!Winchester!Reader

Warnings: Slight-angst, fluff

Words: 1,059

Summary: (See Request)

Note: I chose a movie for an easier writing-prompt-thing, I hope that’s okay!

ALSO, if you've seen Easy A, you know it’s a mature movie. However, I only included small details, so there’s really nothing graphic.

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @thewarriorprincessxo

Masterlist | Supernatural Masterlist

It was movie night, and all three Winchesters were prepared. Butts on the couch, snacks galore, feet on the table, and enjoying a nice movie as a family...with a guest. Jack sat in the middle of Y/n and Sam, both younger Winchesters having a friendlier relationship with him than Dean. Plus, having Y/n next to the clueless boy came in handy, as she didn’t mind explaining the stuff he didn’t get.

Picking the movie was easy. Dean went out and returned with a movie no one was really surprised he’d pick. “It is...uh... A teen angst-romance-kind of um... kind of movie... Alright, it’s Easy A.” So they watched Easy A, curtesy of Y/n suggesting Dean pick. And with that specific movie; there were quite a few things to explain to Jack.

For one, the fact that Olive was lying and what she was lying about confused him. “She’s making people say bad things about her...on purpose?” Jack glared at Dean and his loud hushing noises before turning his head back to his left and waiting for Y/n to answer.

“Well...” Y/n tried to find the best and most appropriate way of giving him the semi-explicit explanation. “She’s trying to help the people who don’t have a reputation at all. Might as well give to the ones who’ve got none than keep what you don’t want or really have, right?”

“I guess...”

Then there was when the she was fighting with her best friend. Jack frowned a lot during the scenes with conflict between Olive and Rhiannon. “Why are they mad at each other? Aren’t they best friends? Friends don’t get mad at friends-”

“Olive is still lying for those people, remember? If she tells the truth, she ruins their reputations and also hurts a lot of people.” Y/n paused. “Imagine if you were in her shoes-”

“I don’t think they’d fit.”

“No, Jack, like- Imagine that you were lying, and had to continue lying, for people so they could be left alone by the mean people. Would you want to deal with the guilt of knowing you exposed them as liars and gave the bullies more to hurt them with?”

His face face scrunched up in thought before he sighed and shook his head. “No. That wouldn’t be very nice of me.” Y/n couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible for the sheepish look hanging on his face, so she rubbed his back and gave him a kind grin, to which he returned almost immediately.

More towards the end, he didn’t get the singing. Y/n told him that musicals were often a popular theme for movies- especially romances. He nodded and turned his head back towards the screen. Jack began to mumble along quietly with the song, watching out of the corner of his eye as Y/n smiled softly.

“Knock knock knock on wood-” He whispered with a smirk.

“Jack...” Y/n contained her laughter the best she could, biting her lip to prevent herself from erupting with chortles.

“Yes? ...Oh- Is my singing bothering you- I-I’ll stop-”

“No, it’s just... You do know what she’s referencing, right?”

“Um... No.”

She tried to find a good way of informing him. One that was subtle yet didn’t go too far into detail. “Look at her clothes.”

Jack turned towards the screen, squinting and studying her outfit. He shifted until he was facing her again. The confusion on his features was bold. “They look nice. What’s wrong with it?”

“Jack...that outfit isn’t intended to be ‘nice’. It’s supposed to be sexy...the song is supposed to be sexy.”

“Oh? Well, I guess it does look sexy. Maybe you should wear something like that.” Y/n coughed in surprise as Jack faced the screen again. Sam and Dean shot her looks, a little concerned by her sudden coughing fit, but slowly brushed it off when she waved her hands in reassurance.

Of course, that didn’t shock her nearly as much as the final scene. Olive was explaining the truth live, sending her apologies and putting an end to the red A. She looked out the window and saw Todd holding speakers and standing on a lawn mower. Then she finished the webcast, proudly stating that the really amazing thing about what would happen with her and Todd was that it was “nobodies goddamn business.”

Jack watched the screen intensely, Y/n wasn’t even sure if he’d blinked since Todd appeared, and watched as she ran out of the room and Todd jumped off the mower. Olive jumped into Todd’s arms and spun around before he set her down and kissed her. Jack’s eyes doubled in size.

“What- why’d he do that?”

“Because. He’s in love with her, she’s in love with him. And since they’re in love...he kissed her.” Y/n’s eyes were fixed on the screen as she talked, admiring the romance despite originally rolling her eyes when Dean revealed his movie choice.

Jack nodded and hummed quietly. Y/n was going to dive in a little more with detail, however, before she knew it, Jack’s lips were on her own. Her mind was racing, trying to process why he kissed her- trying to process why she kissed him back.

But her brain could hardly think over these things as their kiss was cut short. Dean pulled Jack backwards and stared at him, imaginary smoke leaving his nostrils with each angry exhale.

“Dean- leave him alone-”

“Why’d you do that?” He planted his feet, towering above Jack, who was lying on the floor- too shocked to move. “Why’d you kiss her?”

“Because. I’m in love with her. I think she’s in love with me. I kissed her because we’re in love.” Y/n couldn’t hold back the smile that graced her face, fingers lifting to her lips as the kiss and the feelings it gifted finally occurred to her.

“Why- What-” Dean’s eyebrows knitted as he narrowed his eyes at Jack. “Why would she be in love with you?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Y/n put in all her effort to hide her smile and spat the words at her brother with a stern voice. She pushed him aside and held out a hand to Jack, pulling him up and walking to table with him.

Dean turned back to Sam, confused. Sam pressed his lips together and patted his back before walking over to Y/n and Jack, “You’re doing great, Dean.”

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years

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Let’s talk: Film Out - lyric and MV analysis (+ BU theories) - Part 1

by Admin 1

From infinitetab: Hi Admins! Were you able to see the MV for Film Out?

Mostly to Admin 1 (though both can chime in!) who posted the related post and talked about BU theories — how did you feel about the MV? Do you think it ties to the BU picture? Since it was a Japanese song of theirs I didn’t really connect dots just yet, but now I feel like I need to re-watch this with my conspiracy hat on, as well as their other Japanese MVs to see if there is a connection haha — did I miss it or were there some shots from the teaser that weren’t in the final version?

(Admittedly, I don’t know much about the BU and all its theories/plots/interconnectedness — I’ve been interested to look into it but didn’t know where to start haha — do you have any resources/posts you’d direct a newbie to?)

Thank you for all your lovely thoughts via your posts. Have a good day! ☀️😁

We were indeed able to see it, I even watched it a bunch of time to take note of different details and so I’d be able to try and figure out how to even begin writing a proper reply to this since there is a lot to discuss. The funny thing is, I said to myself hey, let’s try to keep this brief, okay? But it’s me so who am I even trying to fool with that one.

I’d like to preface this by saying that, looking at the lyrics and the meaning of Film Out, the MV, which fits it beautifully, doesn’t have to necessarily connect to the BU but there are many parallels and things that fit a little too well to just be a coincidence. So, while it doesn’t have to connect, and therefore I don’t have to be right with literally any of my thoughts, interpretations and theories, there is a chance that both is true at the same time. Unless they’d tell us, we’ll never know, but isn’t this truly the fun of it all? Finding clues and piecing together the BU? After all that’s what we used to do for a long time until BH decided we were too “stupid” to get it, so they helped us with additional content in hopes of it making things clearer. It did, but it also made it all even more complex and hard to grasp.

This analysis will be split up into two posts:

Part 1 – the meaning of the song/lyrics – in short it could be summarized by a sense of longing/yearning for something that once was, or even never really was at all, like a phantom pain or Schrödinger’s memories. It’s the beauty of how ephemeral everything in life is and how memories are sometimes all we have left or can hold on to, even if they aren’t necessarily real at all.

Part 2 – Film Out MV and the BU – a brief explanation of what the BU is, an introduction into the plot and where to start if you want to get into the BU, and how the MV fits in with it and what the different scenes could mean and be interpreted as, as well as a few additional overarching theories for the entire MV instead of particular scenes.

Part 1 – the meaning of the song and a (very) brief analysis of the lyrics:

youtube

According to articles and some of our Japanese translators who are able to grasp the deeper nuance of Japanese that does not perfectly translate into English, the song is about this feeling of longing for someone/something that was once there but is no longer, or even the longing for something that was never even there in the first place.

You, in my imagination

Are so vivid

As if you are right there

But I reach out my hand

And you suddenly disappear

(here our translators, specifically kookceptional, noted how disappear, or rather vanished, in this instance describes a sadness from the inability to control the disappearance of someone who was never actually there.)

It’s this idea that you’ve honed in so deeply on your memories that they’ve become vivid, almost real, making it only so much harder to accept that they are just memories, or even just figments of your imagination. The lyrics also talk about projecting those memories across a room, like a movie or pictures, captured memories, two glasses that have been left untouched, these sounds and smells that bring you back to those memories over and over again and make you only cling to them so much more desperately. It causes you bursts of pain, as the lyrics suggest.

There’s also mention of how when you reach out, you/that something disappears, it’s like when you observe something beautiful, like cherry blossom petals falling from a tree and drifting through the wind, but once you decide to take a picture of it, by the time you have your camera/phone in hand, the moment is gone. It can’t be repeated in that exact same way once again, and instead of existing forever in a picture, it’s now only part of your memory. But over time, no matter how hard you’ll try, that memory will fade, too.

Of course, like with many BTS songs, there are many ways of interpreting the lyrics and meanings, of how you associate them with different feelings and even your own experiences, the fact that the same words resonate with us in different ways.

It’s also worth noting that Film Out is part of an OST for the Japanese remake of Signal, therefore the lyrics might have connection to the movie. Fun fact: Signal is the remake of a K-Drama with the same title from 2014 but there’s also a Japanese TV show that, too, is a remake of that K-Drama from 2018 and its opening theme was BTS’ Don’t Leave Me. The premise of the show/movie is that a walkie talkie allows two detectives, one from 2015 (cold case profiler) and the other from 1989 to solve crimes together and even try to prevent them.

Personally I’ve never seen the K-Drama nor the Japanese version so I can’t really speak on the connection between the plot of the show and the song, but if they truly manage to prevent cases from ever happening, that would mean knowing of something that was never even there, like the memories of someone who was never even there in the first place like in Film Out, though even as I type it, it sounds like quite a stretch.

If some of you have seen either, please do comment if there’s a connection to be made here or not.

A thought I had while thinking about Film Out and its meaning/lyrics was that there could be a connection loosely drawn between Let Go (here though I feel it’s important to know how deeply meaningful and weighted of a song Let Go is, seeing as it was written and released in a time where Bangtan considered disbandment and this song would’ve, in a way, acted as a sort of farewell, so again take these thoughts of mine with a grain of salt since even I’m a little iffy on if they’d connect such a deeply meaningful song to another one written for an OST), the thought that you are ready to let go of that person/thing, to say goodbye and move on, but then in Film Out you realize that you can’t, that you’re still holding on to them and trying to piece together this thing you had, this person, but that is now gone, vanished like smoke never to return again.

Example:

If my fate is to disappear like this, then this is my last letter

Penned words, written then erased (therefore words that never were/never came to be)

Feelings for you, so many to let go

Unpuzzle my lego

At a level where it can’t return to its original shape

(…)

Before we say goodbye, let go

But I’m lost in the maze of my heart (FO: From all the memories stored in my heart)

From stereo to mono

That’s how the path splits

The lyrics for Film Out are translated in the actual MV, but I also thought I’ll add the translation done by kookceptional as well as ttokminnie since they add a lot of valuable language context and nuance:

These concepts are also shown in the MV with Seokjin as the narrator watching the scene inside the room (note how all seven are inside it) but they are frozen, like this picture of how times were once so happy and they were all together but as the MV progresses, the members vanish as Seokjin watches on, the room quite literally explodes as though his memories are obliterated (by the realization that they were never real in the first place? That their time ran out?) and thus can’t be pieced together again, or maybe it was all just an illusion all along. It feels like Seokjin is watching those memories being projected, a film from inside of him being played outward, so seemingly close and real yet he can’t reach it, can’t be part of it again, can only feel the pain these memories have left behind.

#BTS #BTS Film Out #Lyric analysis #Film Out analysis

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zankivich · 5 years

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The Arrangement: CEO’s Son/Dom!Shawn x Black Sub Reader Chapter 6

a/n: Hi. I know no one reads this so not really gonna bother. Like if you liked. Reblog if you care at all. Maybe buy my broke as a ko-fi so I can survive this semester? K bye.

WARNINGS: Soft smut?

*Shawn’s point of view*

A night out on the town is exactly what he needed. When his best friend Brian flew to town, it meant to clear his schedule and probably have 911 on speed dial for any ambulance like purposes. With the state of his relationship with his dad at the time, he was in desperate need for things to make sense again. And they weren’t. They just fucking weren’t. Enter Brian.

“Shawn motherfucking mendes! Did you miss me? Tell me you missed me!” His best friend snorted practically hopping into his arms in the middle of JFK

“Not enough to carry your dumb ass, get the fuck of me!” He chuckled.

“I am so fucking excited to be back in this city man. The pussy is just something different out here, ya know? Now if only my best friend flew me out more than once a year.”

He threw Brian’s bags into the trunk of his car and ignored his best, but idioctic, friend.

“Yea, I invite your ass out here more than once a year and my dad will have both of our asses. That’s assuming you don’t kill us first.”

“You wake up in Tijuana one time, and suddenly I’m a bad influence?”

“We were in the fucking Bahamas, Brian!”

“So, not my sharpest moment! I got us home didn’t I?”

“No, jackass, my dad got us home. You got chlaymdia and a fucking sunburn. Now get in the car before I leave your ginger ass here!”

“Fair, that’s fair.”

Brian had been on his soccer team in the first grade. They’d been best friends ever since. When his dad moved the entire family out to California, Brian was with them for every holiday and every break they could find. The two were inseparable. Brian was a jackass, and he got Shawn into far more trouble than he did anything good. But he was his best friend. He’d been there for him, the first time his dad cheated on his mom. The first time he got his heart broken. When his dad had taken everything from him. So, there was a loyalty between the two of them that was unmatched. They’d do anything for each other. Anything.

So, there’s no one else he’d rather sit on his couch with in the middle of the afternoon and smoke the kind of weed that made your knees numb. That’s the kind of friendship he needed.

“What the fuck have you been up to lately?” Brian coughed around the bowl. “I haven’t heard from you in forever.”

He chuckled up at the ceiling which was maybe the most prettiest ceiling he’d ever seen. Wow.

“Man, my dad is totally up my ass about ‘ continuing his legacy’. I like ‘work’ now. Real shit. And then... I’ve been fucking honest to god the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Not enough hours in the day I guess.”

“Yea, what else is new?”

He shook his head. “Nah bro. You don’t understand. Like even I don’t know how I pulled her. She’s thirty years old. My dad’s fucking terrified of her. She got three of the top artists of the year under her belt, and she lets me make her cum until she passes out. It’s fucking addicting.”

Brian passed the bowl, and Shawn worked on taking three big hits, the smoke filling his lungs and taking over his whole body.

“Hold up. You’re fucking the same chick like...consistently? Since fucking when?”

“Since...Since she gave me the best orgasm of my entire life? Since...I don’t know, since my dad makes me so fucking stressed all the time I feel like I’m gonna explode. I mean it man, it’s bad. It’s worse than I ever could’ve imagined.”

Brian, for all the jackass that he definitely was, still turned to his friend and gave him a glance check of wellness. That glance to look for damage, to look for signs of mental distress, of pain. Brian knew. He always knew better than anyone.

“Then why don’t you just tell him to stick his job up his ass, man? You knew you didn’t want this from the beginning. You can get out from under him!”

They’d had this conversation since Shawn had turned twenty-one and his dad insisted he start learning the ropes. The company would be his one day, assuming he stuck it out until his old man keeled over.

“I can’t. He’s got me; we both know it. I either fall in line and get my inheritance next year, or I leave now and I’m fucked. H--He promised he’d give me my masters then. He promised.”

“Yea, but your dad is maybe the most evil bastard I’ve ever met. No offense. I just don’t want to see you waste your life away doing this shit that makes you unhappy only to find out that it wasn’t even worth it in the end.”

“I know man,” He responded glumly. “I know.”

Too somber of a topic for getting high, they each settle a little more bonelessly into the couch and lean on each other’s shoulders as the high take it’s full effect.

“So the Shawn Mendes is fucking the same girl on the daily? You two exclusive or something?”

“Nah man we just...have an understanding. We lead really stressed out lives. I kind of want to boss someone around a little bit, and she wants to not have to give any orders for a change. We just work well.” He shrugged.

“Oh, so it’s just casual sex then?”

“Yea...Casual. Sure.”

“Well, you don’t sound so sure.” Brian snorted. “You catching feelings or something?”

“No! No. I--I’m not, man. She’s just weird. She’s not like the girls I usually fuck around with. She’s a little harder to read.” He shrugged.

“No shit, man she’s fucking thirty!”

He didn’t know if he should tell Brian about Miami. About holding her during the show. How they slept together, just slept, in her hotel room. How it was the most well rested he’d felt in months. It wasn’t the conversations they usually had. Shawn hadn’t had a serious girlfriend in over three years, and there was a reason for that. Women were too much of a headache, always wanted more than you could give them. As long as he was single, he was in control. And it wasn’t like y/n even wanted to be with him. Half the time he couldn’t figure out if she hated him still, if she still viewed him as just an extension of his father. The part of him that wanted to change that, that wanted her to view him at something else, didn’t vibe well with the voice in his head that kept reminding him it wasn’t supposed to matter.

So, they get dressed up. Shawn orders them a car to stop at all the places in NYC that one only went to if they had money, power, fame, or some combo of the three. The city was his stomping ground of sorts. He felt good there, much better than he did in LA. Things can move just as fast in LA, but somehow it feels a little less artificial. Maybe it isn’t, maybe he’s an idiot, but he doesn’t really care. Just needs to not think for a while.

***

*y/n’s point of view*

Friendship dates are instrumental when you work together. It’s important to have a space that isn’t dominated by work or business. So, once a week, as long as your schedule permitted it, you and Tiana would just go for best friend time. It could be drinks, dinner, a movie, a yoga class when you were both feeling particularly dumb. On this week’s agenda you were taking a sculpting class. You liked clay, and Tiana liked the fact that they served wine. It was easily a win-win situation.

“So… How was Florida?”

Your hands stumbled on the piece of clay you had been in the middle of scoring and you definitely ripped a whole in it. Idiot.

“Florida? Why do you ask? What happened in Florida? Nothing.”

She raised an eyebrow and stared at you like you were crazy. Maybe you were crazy.

“Bitch is you crazy?” She snorted.

Fair.

“Bitch you the one asking dumb ass questions.”

“Mhmmm . . . So I spoke to Mike the other day.”

You paused in your work and looked over to see her twirling her little wine glass in her hands like the rude little gremlin she was.

“Is that so?” You huffed. “Spit it out, wench.”

“Oh don’t mind me. My niggas barely uber to see me. Let alone fly by jet.”

“Oh for fucks sake. You and Mike gossip more than my mama and her friends.”

She cackled and took a sip from her glass. “And we love it, sis! Now if you don’t unbunch your soaked ass panties and start sharing details, I swear fo’ god. What are best friends for anyway?”

“There is nothing to tell, heffer.” you sighed going back to your precious clay. “He just needed some very specific release and came to Miami to get it.”

“Yea? Well Mike says he stayed through Orlando.”

“Mike needs to keep his mouth shut before he gets fired.”

“Why would you lie to me of all people. Who am I gone tell about you and Shawn Mendes’ rendezvous?”

You rolled your eyes and threw your tools to the table. In hindsight, Shawn had been burning a whole in your mind the past few months. And you hadn’t talked about it all, had no one you could really share it with. Tiana was your ride or die. If there was anyone in the world you could talk to? It was her.

“Okay. Okay fine.” You sighed. “I was kidding though. He was really frustrated and he didn’t want to wait for me to come back to NYC. So I jokingly told him he could come to Miami. I didn’t know his ass was going to show up! And when he did...we fucked at first. And it was fine. It was good like it always is but then…”

“Oooo. Bitch don’t clam up at the good part. What happened next?” She encouraged.

“You know when Ariana does needy and the moon rises and it’s like kind of a romantic, maybe sad, bop?”

“Yes?”

“Well...You know how I get into my feelings sometimes. I guess I maybe leaned my head on his shoulder a little bit. And then he--he wrapped his arms around me. For the rest of the show. Even Break free. Didn’t take his arms away the whole time... That’s weird right? Like why would he do that?”

“Because he has sipped from the valleys of the African diaspora and he is hooked, bitch!”

Tiana bust out laughing getting them dirty looks once again from the white women who came there to nurse their minor alcoholism. Oh well.

“Very funny. I’m serious, Ti!” You whined. “I don’t...do this. I don’t know how to do anything but hooks up. And with a man almost six years younger than me?”

“So you want to date him?”

“No!” You hissed beneath your breath. “No...well I mean I don’t know. It doesn’t matter because he doesn’t want to date me okay. It was just a lapse in judgement.”

“Yea, okay. I’ll be the judge of that. Tell me what the hell else happened?”

“Well we spent like three or four days together. And he just kind of hung out while I worked. And we had sex...a lot. Like three or four times a day. It was so intense. And then every night for the show we would go out and watch and he kept putting his arms around me. What the fuck does that mean, Ti? ”

“It meannnns he likes you bitch.” Ti rolled her eyes. “What else could it mean?”

“You know who we’re talking about here. It’s Shawn. Shawn doesn’t do anything but get women into bed with them. We both know that.”

“Yes. We also both knew that he didn’t hook up with a woman more than once. You two have been screwing longer than most of your past relationships. So let’s stop pretending that we’ve got this white boy squared up when obviously we don’t.”

You sighed letting your face come to rest on your clay covered hands.

“I just...I can’t afford to let him catch me slipping, Ti. Whether I like him or not doesn’t matter. I can’t let his dad get in the way of my goals.”

Tiana nodded and placed her wine glass down to take your hand in hers.

“Girl, I get it. White men are trash and as much as we make fun of them, there is a fear there that we cannot let go of. But you cannot, I repeat, you cannot let that man dictate your life. He’s not worth it. He’s had not a damn thing to do with your success, and he will not lead to your downfall. Now if Shawn turns out to be more than what we thought he was, then let that be enough. Don’t ruin it for Manny’s sake. He doesn’t deserve that much of your energy.”

And that was why she was your best friend. She was the most intelligent person you knew. She was funny and wild and crazy, but she kept you centered in a way that no one else could. And she always made shit make sense. Even when you were fought it with every fiber of your being. There was no use. Tiana was always right.

“Yea, okay. Let’s just let it die for now. I don’t think even Shawn knows what he wants yet tbh. No reason for me to think too much into it now.”

“Whatever you say sis. whatever you say.”

***

*Shawn’s point of view*

It’s dark. There are bodies everywhere and the strobe lights illuminate a face every once in awhile. Brian’s talking to some blonde that’s five inches taller than him. There’s a brunette to his right that keeps whispering in his ear and playing with his hair. He’s not drunk enough for this. His whole vibe is off, and he’s not quite sure why. Why can’t he fall back into who he’s always been.

“Do you wanna take me home tonight?” She murmured wrapping one of his curls around her finger.

He snorted. “I don’t exactly take people home sweetheart.”

“Oh...Well, do you wanna come over to mine? I live close by.”

“Yea, maybe later. I’m gonna get another drink, you want one?”

“S--Sure. Thank you.”

He slides off the couch in search of more bottle service. He’s got a feeling that there might not be enough in the state.

Brian finds him searching for answers in a shot glass. He slides his hands sloppily along his shoulders and he already knows what he’s about to say.

“Bro! This chick’s all over me. Can I use your spare room?”

He shrugs. “Sure, whatever man.”

“What about your girl? You ready to go back?”

“I don’t know man. I’m just not feeling it.”

Brian’s eyes widened in confusion. “The fuck is there not to feel? Just pull your dick out and find friction.”

“Just go grab your girl and let’s get the fuck out of here, aye?”

He tried to focus his eyes on his, which just resulted in his head wobbling a little bit. Shawn sure hoped he didn’t have whiskey dick, cause he’d never heard the end of it.

“You seriously not getting any tonight?”

Oh he was getting some. Just not the likes of what NYC’s latest size negative two of the month had to offer.

Apparently Blondy and Brunette are friends. When Brunette finds out Blondy is getting in the car, and she isn’t there’s a little bit of a hick up. Somehow Brian still convinces Blondy to get into the car. His best friend might have at least mediocre game. The ride back is full of obscene kissing noises, and Brian trying to convince this poor woman he’s going to be able to make her cum tonight. Home couldn’t come fast enough.

Shawn: come over.

y/n: oooo I feel like Cinderella being cuarted at the ball.

y/n: Negro it is one am. No.

Shawn: I’ll send you a car. Come in those horrid little fluffy pjs I saw in your suitcase in Orlando. Idc. I’d get you a pumpkin carriage but I think the dealership might be fresh out of those.

y/n: YOU WERE NOT SUPPOSED TO SEE THOSE. YOU WERE NOT INVITED TO THE TOUR.

Shawn: Please? I’m too drunk to argue with you. My best friend is about to seriously dissapoint this poor woman tonight in my guest bedroom, and it’s gonna fuck up the whole vibe of my space. Some good sex must be had tonight.

y/n: the amount of bullshit that comes out of your mouth on a daily basis. Truly remarkable.

Shawn: I’m sending you a car. You don’t even have to take your bonnet off.

y/n: You are not fucking me with my bonnet on. My black grandmama anscestors would haunt my ass with negro spirituals for the rest of eternity.

Shawn: Noted. I’ll see you in forty five?

y/n: Ugh. Whatever.

Fucking finally.

***

He’s still in his jeans from the club and reclining on his bed as the alcohol races through his system when the app alerts him that she’s on her way up from the lobby. Thank god for fancy passcodes that mean he doesn’t have to let her in. He lurches up out of bed to meet her at the door. His guest bedroom is on the other side of the apartment, and he’s hopeful that the sounds won’t make it over to them. He just wants to focus on her tonight. Nothing else.

Since their weird little bubble in Florida, they hadn’t talked about any of it. Y/n arrived back in town and immediately asked to be tied up, gagged, and whatever else meant that they were focused on nothing but the bedroom. It didn’t hurt his feelings at all. This is what they were good at. This was the whole point of everything that they were right? Not to make things complicated but just to fuck and to let themselves release everything out into the bedroom. And that’s exactly what they were going to do tonight. He would make sure of it.

On the other side of the door, she’s standing there in tennis shoes and all silk pajamas. It’s a short and camisole nighty combo that he has every intention of ripping with his bare hands. But it’s cute. She’s cute.

“You went out tonight.” She notes, her eyes raking over him until he’s twitchy and needy.

He nodded. “Yea.”

“Did you hook up with someone?”

Something about the fact that he’s had something to drink just tells him to be honest. He can see her, maybe even more clearly than he was used to, and he had not a single ability in the world to bullshit her anymore. Not tonight.

“No. No I didn’t. There was a girl there who tried, who wanted to come back with me, and I--I thought about it. I did.” He hummed. “But I texted you instead.”

He can tell she wasn’t ready for the honesty. He can see the way her jaw untightens just slightly, the way she relaxed just barely. Who the fuck is either of them kidding?

“Explain to me why I’m here again?” She asked cocking her hip against his door.

She had braids in again. He didn’t know how to tell her that he’d been thanking God for protective styles since she flipped them over her shoulder that one time while she rode him into her desk chair. He was dangerously drunk.

“Stop talking. Come here.”

He cups his palm around the back of his neck and pulls her lips against his. She releases a little half whimper half sigh when he bites her bottom lip and moves his tongue to where she needs him to go. They’re still halfway in his apartment and halfway in the hallway when he pulls her legs up around his waist and presses her into the wall next to his doorway. But she still gives him everything that he needs instantly. Still pushes her hips against his. Still scratches at his scalp like no one ever has. Still had a grip to her thighs that makes his mouth water and his dick hard. When her ass is filling his hands and then some, there’s not a question. That woman from the club wasn’t going to give him this. Wasn’t ever going to be able to make him feel the way that she could. So why fucking lose this?

He slammed the door shut and took her back to his room, body laid out perfectly amongst his sheets. His fingers reach for his belt, and she’s giggling as she kicks her shoes halfway across the room. She’s really beautiful when she smiles. Fuck.

She went to reach for her camisole and he was hopeless but to stop her. His hands locked around her wrists pinning her to the bed. And she peered up at him with those big ass eyes of her, wild and brown and blown with lust. But her skin is soft as a fucking feather. And her cheek bones sit high and prominent and perfect. Her lips are thick and plush and he knows there’s no filler in them because every time she kisses him it’s like heaven. And he’s drunk. He’s so fucking drunk. The problem is that way too much of it is just her, and that never used to be reason enough

He kisses her. But it’s not like it was at the doorway. It’s not like the first night they spent together, or any of the other kisses after that. It’s soft. It’s slow and methodical and searching. Her eyes flutter close and she parts her lips and this time her tongue is leading the charge. But he doesn’t stop her. Would never want to stop her from kissing him like this. His hands go lax on her wrists and she reaches to pull him closer instead. They fall flat on the bed, her body wrapping around his. He loses himself in her kiss, in her touch. She’s just there filling up every space that’s ever existed in his life And he wants her. God does he want her.

“Shawn.” She mumbled against his mouth.

“Shhh. Let me touch you.” He begged.

Her eyes softened and she nodded allowing him to rip that pretty camisole he’d been thinking about since he opened the door. That’s as rough as it gets. When he’s met with the soft skin of her breasts he can’t do anything but be tender. He roles her nipples between his thumbs, licks along the valley of her sternum, and her moans are incredible. He’s stuck on her. And the one way to work through that, the only way to not fall consumed by her, is to touch and lick and kiss. And she lets him. Lets him and lets him and lets him.

“Touch me.” She gasps.

And so he touches.

***

The sun streams through his curtains, and it’s the second thing that wakes him up that morning. The first is the warm body pressed against his chest. When she wakes up in the morning she stretches her whole body, but it all originates from her spine. It makes her look a little bit like a fish out of water, or a mermaid. But he kind of likes it. This time her stretch sends her deeper into his arms, and he’s totally okay with that. Her eyes open and they stare at each other. It’s silent. Just the two of them. After that.

“Hi.” She whispered snuggling a little deeper into his pillow.

He licked his bottom lip, voice tired from lack of use. “Hi.”

“Do we....Do we talk about what that was?”

“Really? This early and you already wanna talk?” He smirked.

“It’s in my blood. Don’t make fun of me.”

She flicks his bicep and it’s the most ridiculous thing he could ever imagine. It’s too early to deal with her ridiculousness.

“I’m hungry.” He sighed and rolled over onto his back.

“Well get to cookin. The movie where the black woman serves the white man is a straight to dvd feature, and I am only interested in box office hits.”

“Well that sounds lovely, however I meant much more of the, ‘you riding my face until you cum’ type hunger. Or is that not high enough at the box office for you?”

“Hmm...well we certainly can try!”

He can’t help but laugh as she settles her thighs over either side of his head. Her thighs are things of miracles and he’s just a bit obsessed with them, just a bit obsessed with her. His hands settled on her hips and he can’t help but look up at the way the sun hits her chest and face. She’s beautiful.

His tongue traces languidly at her heat. He’s not interested in driving her up a wall this early in the morning. Just wants to fuck her through the fog of their wake up. So, he licks deep into her. He lets his tongue dip inside and then runs the flat of it against against the entire length of her pussy. Her clit is already erect and at attention. He settles his hands onto her knees and rubs at her thighs. She plays with his hair and grinds slowly against his tongue as they work her towards her release.

“Fucking shit, Shawn,” She whined. “That’s so good.”

He tilts his chin up and follows her shaking hips, his lips attached to her clit. He just wants to devour her.

“Baby I--I’m gonna cum!”

She’s never called him baby before. Not once. And it sparks a reaction that neither of them could have seen coming. He flips her over onto her back--thank god for neck and back day--and chases her pussy like it’s the last coke in the desert. It might very well be.

“Oh--Yes! Yes!”

The knock on the door can’t come at a worse fucking time.

He pulled back and wiped at his mouth eyes still completely zoned in on what’s happening between her legs.

“NOT FUCKING NOW BRIAN!”

Her fingers dig into his hair and pull him back between her thighs. It’s hotter than he could imagine.

“Bro I just need to borrow your jeep for like thirty--an hour--two hours tops !”

He pulled away from her with a slurp. “You touch that fucking jeep and it’s the last thing you’ll ever do!”

“Melanie has to get to a study group for her philosophy class!”

“Who the entire FUCK is Melanie?!”

Her fingers are in his hair again. She leans up to nuzzle his throat with her perfect lips and take his ear lobe between her teeth.

“Can we please? You got on a private jet to visit me in Miami. I think a jeep is the least of your concerns.”

He whined and nuzzled back against her softly. “I love that car.”

“Maybe work on loving this pussy a little more?”

Well that was certainly doable.

“Yea, okay.”

*five minutes later*

“Okay! Well uh...I’m just gonna take the jeep. I’ll bring it back, bro promise!”

He pulled back one more time. “Get the hell out of here, Brian!”

“Jesus Brian! GO!” She yelled in unison.

….

“Tough crowd!”

***

“Shawn, I’ve got to go!” She giggled.

He was much more interested in kissing his way along her neck and collarbones.

“Mmmm. No.”

“I have a brunch with a very important client, and thanks to you I’m going back to my house in a dumb man shirt.”

He snorted and ran his tongue along the length of the collar.

“This is saint laurent.”

“This is me leaving!” She insisted tugging out of his grasp.

He followed her to the door, the length of her braids only bringing more attention to the way her ass swayed in those shorts. Jesus.

“Can I ask you something? Before you go?”

She paused at the door and turned to him, letting her back rest against the wall.

“Sure.”

“You felt it last night, right? I’m not crazy, am I?”

She bit her lip, and shook her head softly. “No, you’re not crazy. I felt it.”

“And it means something, right? It is something?”

It takes a little longer to get a response out of her. But slowly but surely she nods at that too.

“Yea. I think it is.”

He took a deep breath trying to discern for himself whether he was about to fuck everything up. When his fingers mold to the apple of her cheek and she peers up at him with these big, soft eyes he knows there was never any choice for him. He’d been kidding himself since the beginning. This time when they kiss neither of them are holding back.He lets himself be gentle. He holds her against his chest and he doesn’t think at all about the consequences, or what it might look like. He just wants to kiss her silly. He does. She does the same for him.

He pulled back to check for fear of hesitance in her eyes. There is none. How is there none? And so he just...goes for it.

“I like you.” He admitted softly. “Like a lot.”

She ran her thumb along his lip, tugging at it until it smacked back into place.

“I like you too. A lot.”

Her eyes are warm and soft even now. She’s so inviting and she just seems to pull the truth out of him with ease. He just wants to be honest with her. Even when it’s scary. Even when it doesn’t make sense.

“Well uh...I’m not gonna lie I don’t really know what it is you see in me. I--I know what I am. And I know what I can offer. For some girls it’s enough, but for you...I don’t know that it could be.”

“You don’t need to talk down to yourself to get me to like you Shawn.” She murmured.

He snorted. “I know that. I’m just saying what we both know. I know I can be an asshole, and a cocky asshole at that. But I can’t even think of touching a woman who isn’t you. I’ve never had that happen before. Not in my whole life. I guess I just--fuck. Will you go out with me? Like to dinner? As human beings that don’t just make each other cum.”

“Dinner hmmm?” She hummed.

“Yea, dinner.”

“You really want to be seen with me in public? What would your dad think?”

“I don’t...I don’t care what my dad thinks. I want to take you to dinner. Do you want to go with me?”

The pause she takes is long enough to kill him. For sure it is.

“I...Yea. I do.”

It brings a smile to his face against his better judgement. He didn't usually do smiles. Really got in the way of his image. A look of smug indifference was his go to. But this woman was quickly ruining everything he ever thought that he knew.

She lets him kiss her against the door. Let’s him hold her face in his hands. It feels good. Feels right.

“Hey, if we go on a date it’s not gonna stop you from domming me is it?”

He laughed. “Of course not.”

“Okay. You can kiss me again.”

“Thank you.”

Permanent taglist

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just-another-obsessed-fangirl · 4 years

Text

Lover (2019) Sentence Prompts

feel free to change pronouns and other specific details

How many days did I spend thinking ‘bout how you did me wrong?

Lived in the shade you were throwing ‘til all of my sunshine was gone

I couldn’t get away from you

In my feelings more than Drake

Your name on my lips, tongue-tied

Free rent, living in my mind

But then something happened one magical night

I forgot that you existed

I thought that it would kill me, but it didn’t

It isn’t love, it isn’t hate, it’s just indifference

Got out some popcorn as soon as my rep started going down

Laughed on the schoolyard as soon as I tripped up and hit the ground

I would’ve stuck around for you, would’ve fought the whole town

Would’ve been right there, front row, even if nobody came to your show

But you showed who you are

Sent me a clear message

Taught me some hard lessons, I just forget what they were

Fever dream high in the quiet of the night

Bad, bad boy, shiny toy with a price

You know that I bought it

I’m always waiting for you to be waiting below

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes

What doesn’t kill me makes me want you more

It’s new, the shape of your body

It’s blue, the feeling I’ve got

It’s a cruel summer

It’s cool, that’s what I tell ‘em

No rules in breakable heaven

Hang your head low in the glow of the vending machine

We say that we’ll just screw it up in these trying times

We’re not trying

Cut the headlights

Summer’s a knife

I’m always waiting for you just to cut to the bone

If I bleed, you’ll be the last to know

I’m drunk in the back of the car

I cried like a baby coming home from the bar

Said, “I’m fine,” but it wasn’t true

I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you

I snuck in through the garden gate every night that summer

Just to seal my fate

I love you, ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?

He looks up grinning like a devil

We could leave the Christmas lights up ‘til January

This is our place, we make the rules

There’s a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close?

Take me out and take me home

You’re my lover

We could let our friends crash in the living room

I’m highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

I’ve loved you three summers now, honey, but I want ‘em all

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand

I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

My heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue

All’s well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true

You’ll save all your dirtiest jokes for me

At every table, I’ll save you a seat

I would be complex

I would be cool

They’d say I played the field before I found someone to commit to

That would be okay for me to do

Every conquest I had made would make me more of a boss to you

I’d be a fearless leader, I’d be an alpha type

When everyone believes you, what’s that like?

I’m so sick of running as fast as I can

I’d get there quicker if I was a man

I’m so sick of them coming at me again

If I was a man

I’d be the man

I hustled, put in the work

Shake their heads and question how much of this I deserve

And they would toast to me

What’s it like to brag about raking in dollars and getting bitches and models?

It’s all good if you’re bad and it’s okay if you’re mad

I’d be a bitch, not a baller

They paint me out to be bad

It’s okay that I’m mad

I’m ready for combat

I don’t want that, but what if I do?

Cruelty wins in the movies

I’ve got a hundred thrown out speeches I almost said to you

I jump from the train, I ride off alone

I never grew up, it’s getting so old

Help me hold on to you

I’ve been the archer, I’ve been the prey

Who could ever leave me, darling, but who could stay?

I search for your dark side

What if I’m alright right here?

I cut off my nose just to spite my face

I hate my reflection for years and years

I pace like a ghost

The room is on fire, invisible smoke

All of my heroes die all alone

They see right through me

Can you see right through me?

I see right through me

All the king’s horses, all the king’s men, couldn’t put me together again

All of my enemies started out friends

His footprints on the sidewalk lead to where I can’t stop

His hands around a cold glass make me wanna know that body like it’s mine

He got that boyish look that I like in a man

I am an architect, I’m drawing up the plans

It’s like I’m seventeen, nobody understands

He got my heartbeat skipping down 16th Avenue

Wanna see what’s under that attitude

I want you, bless my soul

I ain’t gotta tell him, I think he knows

I’ll make myself at home and he’ll want me to stay

He’d better lock it down or I won’t stick around

Good ones never wait

He’s so obsessed with me and, boy, I understand

Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh

We could follow the sparks

I’ll drive

Where we gonna go?

You know I adore you

I’m crazier for you than I was at sixteen

I’m lost in the lights

Ripped up my prom dress

Running through rose thorns

I saw the scoreboard and ran for my life

No cameras catch my pageant smile

I counted days, I counted miles

It’s you and me, that’s my whole world

They whisper in the hallway, “She’s a bad, bad girl”

The whole school is rolling fake dice

You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes

We’re so sad, we paint the town blue

Voted most likely to run away with you

My team is losing, battered and bruising

I see the high fives between the bad guys

You are the only one who seems to care

The damsels are depressed

Boys will be boys, then where are the wise me?

Darling, I’m scared

No cameras catch my muffled cries

I don’t really wanna fight, ‘cause nobody’s gonna win

I think you should come home

I’ll never let you go, ‘cause I know this is a fight that someday we’re gonna win

She’s a bad, bad girl

High, like your friends were the night that we first met

Went home and tried to stalk you on the internet

I’ve read all of the books beside your bed

Cold, like the shoulder that I gave you in the street

Cat and mouse for a month or two or three

Now I wake up in the night and watch you breathe

Kiss me once ‘cause you know I had a long night

Kiss me twice ‘cause it’s gonna be alright

Three times ‘cause I waited my whole life

I like shiny things, but I’d marry you with paper rings

I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this

You’re the one I want in paper rings, in picture frames, in dirty dreams

In the icy outdoor pool, when you jumped in first, I went in too

I’m with you even if it makes blue

Takes me back to the color that we painted your brother’s wall

Without all the exes, fights, and flaws

We wouldn’t be standing here so tall

I want to drive away with you

I want your complications too

I want your dreary Mondays

Wrap your arms around me, baby boy

Drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar

I rent a place on Cornelia Street

We were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go

As if the street lights pointed in an arrow head leading us home

I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I’d never walk Cornelia Street again

That’s the kinda heartbreak time could never mend

I get mystified by how this city screams your name

I’m so terrified of it you ever walk away

Jacket ‘round my shoulders is yours

Memorize the creaks in the floor

Back when we were card sharks

I thought you were leading me on

I packed my bags, left Cornelia Street, before you even knew I was gone

You called, showed your hand

I turned around before I hit the tunnel

Sat on the roof, you and I

You hold my hand on the street

Walk me back to that apartment years ago

We were just inside barefoot in the kitchen

Sacred new beginnings that became my religion

Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts

Flashbacks waking me up

I get drunk but it’s not enough

The morning comes and you’re not my baby

I look through the windows of this love even though we boarded them up

Chandelier’s still flickering here

I can’t pretend it’s okay when it’s not

I dress to kill my time

I take the long way home

I ask the traffic lights if it’ll be alright, they say, “I don’t know”

What once was ours is no one’s now

The only thing we share is this small town

It was a great love, one for the ages

If the story’s over, why am I still writing pages?

My heart, my hips, my body, my love

Tryna find a part of me that you didn’t touch

Gave up on me like I was a bad drug

Now I’m searching for signs in a haunted club

Our songs, our films, united we stand

Our country, guess it was a lawless land

Quiet my fears with a touch of your hand

Paper cut stings from out paper-thin plans

My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust

Tryna find a part of me you didn’t take up

Gave you so much, but it wasn’t enough

But I’ll be alright, it’s just a thousand cuts

I love my hometown as much as Motown

Something happened, I heard him laughing

I saw the dimples first and then I heard the accent

They say home is where the heart is, but that’s not where mine lives

You know I love a London boy

He likes my American smile

Like a child when our eyes meet

Darling, I fancy you

I guess all the rumors are true

Boy, I fancy you

Now I love high tea

You can find me in the pub

We are watching rugby with his school friends

Show me a gray sky, a rainy cab ride

Babes, don’t threaten me with a good time

God, I love the English

Doesn’t have to be Louis V up on Bond Street

Stick with me, I’m your queen

The buttons of my coat were tangled in my hair

I didn’t tell you I was scared

That was the first time we were there

Holy orange bottles, each night I pray to you

Desperate people find faith

Now I pray to Jesus too

Soon you’ll get better

You’ll get better soon ‘cause you have to

I know delusion when I see it in the mirror

You like the nicer nurses

You make the best of a bad deal

I just pretend it isn’t real

I’ll paint the kitchen neon

I’ll brighten up the sky

I know I’ll never get it, there’s not a day that I won’t try

I hate to make this all about me, but who am I supposed to talk to?

What am I supposed to do if there’s no you?

This won’t go back to normal, if it ever was

It’s been years of hoping

I keep saying it because I have to

You’ll get better

We were crazy to think that this could work

Remember how I said I’d die for you?

We were stupid to jump in the ocean separating us

Remember how I’d fly to you?

I can’t talk to you when you’re like this

Staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town

I’m New York City

I still do it for you, babe

They all warned us about times like this

The road gets hard and you get lost when you’re led by blind faith

We might just get away with it

Religion’s in your lips

Even if it’s a false god, we’d still worship

The altar is my hips

We’d still worship this love

I know heaven’s a thing, I go there when you touch me, honey

Hell is when I fight with you

We can patch it up good

Make confessions and we’re begging for forgiveness

Got the wine for you

You can’t talk to me when I’m like this

Daring you to leave me just so I can try and scare you

You’re the West Village

You still do it for me, babe

You are somebody that I don’t know

Taking shots at me like it’s Patrón

Damn, it’s 7 AM

Say it in the street, that’s a knock-out

Say it in a Tweet, that’s a cop-out

I ain’t tryna mess with your self-expression

I’ve learned a lesson that stressing and obsessing ‘bout somebody else is no fun

Snakes and stones never broke my bones

You need to calm down

You’re being too loud

Can you just not step on my gown?

You’re coming at my friends like a missile

Why are you mad when you could be glad?

Sunshine on the street at the parade

You would rather be in the dark ages

Making that sign must’ve taken all night

You just need to take several seats

Try to restore the peace

Control your urges to scream about all the people you hate

Shade never made anybody less gay

We see you over there on the internet

Comparing all the girls who are killing it

We figured you out

We all know now we all got crowns

I blew things out of proportion, now you’re blue

Put you in jail for something you didn’t do

I pinned your hands behind your back

Thought I had reason to attack, but no

Fighting with a true love is boxing with no gloves

Chemistry ‘til it blows up, ‘til there’s no us

Why’d I have to break what I love so much?

It’s on your face and I’m to blame

It’s all me in my head

I’m the one who burned us down

It’s not what I meant

Sorry that I hurt you

I don’t wanna do this to you

I don’t wanna lose this with you

It’s all me, just don’t go

Meet me in the afterglow

It’s so excruciating to see you low

Just wanna lift you up and not let you go

This ultraviolet morning light below tells me this love is worth the fight

I lived like an island, punished you with silence

Went off like sirens

Tell me that you’re still mine

Tell me that we’ll be just fine even when I lose my mind

Tell me that it’s not my fault

Tell me that I’m all you want even when I break my heart

I promise that you’ll never find another like me

I know that I’m a handful

I know I never think before I jump

You’re the kind of guy the ladies want

There’s a lot of cool chicks out there

I know that I went psycho on the phone

I never leave well enough alone

Trouble’s gonna follow where I go

One of these things is not like the others

When it comes to a lover

I’m the only one of me

Baby, that’s the fun of me

You’re the only one of you

Baby, that’s the fun of you

I promise that nobody’s gonna love you like me

I know I tend to make it about me

I know you never get just what you see

I will never bore you, baby

There’s a lot of lame guys out there

We had that fight out in the rain

You ran after me and called my name

I never wanna see you walk away

Living in winter, I am your summer

Hey kids, spelling is fun!

There ain’t no I in “team”, but you know there is a “me”

You can’t spell “awesome” without “me”

School bell rings, walk me home

Sidewalk chalk covered in snow

Lost my gloves, you give me one

“Wanna hang out?” Yeah, sounds like fun

Video games, you pass me a note, sleeping in tents

It’s nice to have a friend

Light pink sky, up on the roof

Sun sinks down, no curfew

20 questions, we tell the truth

You’ve been stressed out lately, yeah, me too

Something gave you the nerve to touch my hand

Church bells ring, carry me home

Rice on the ground looks like snow

Call my bluff, call you “Babe”

Have my back every day

Stay in bed the whole weekend

My love was as cruel as the cities I lived in

Everyone looked worse in the light

There are so many lines that I’ve crossed unforgiven

I’ll tell you the truth, but never goodbye

I don’t wanna look at anything else now that I saw you

I don’t wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you

I’ve been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

Now I see daylight

Luck of the draw only draws the unlucky

I became the butt of the joke

I wounded the good and I trusted the wicked

Clearing the air, I breathed in the smoke

Maybe you ran with the wolves and refused to settle down

Maybe I’ve stormed out of every single room in this town

Threw out our cloaks and our daggers

Because it’s morning now

It’s brighter now

I can still see it all in my mind

All of you, all of me, intertwined

I once believed love would be black and white (but it’s golden)

I can still see it all in my head

Back and forth from New York, sneaking in your bed

I once believed love would be burning red

It’s golden like daylight

You gotta step into the daylight and let it go

I wanna be defined by the things that I love

Not the things I hate

Not the things I’m afraid of

The things that haunt me in the middle of the might

You are what you love

#rp meme #rp sentence starters #sentence structure #rp prompts #lover #taylor swift #ts #my posts

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aggresivelyfriendly · 5 years

Text

Angry Hada Kiss-Request

This clearly ran away with me! I imagine this is right before a theoretical second tour and about a year after Hada kissed for the first time. A couple years after the event of Tryst!

"How long were you with her?" Ada was seething. She was sure that if Harry wasn't floating on how excited he was about his tour and how it was coming together he would have noticed she was boiling. But he'd been boyishly excited. She almost felt guilty to ruin his mood. Almost.

He should have told her. It wasn't a lie, just an omission. It was impossible to ride his high with him after she realized.

Ada had been captivated too, when he'd told her his ideas for the staging. Still stripped back and musically focused, but with sentimental nuggets and images, she'd whole heartedly loved the idea. When the images started arriving, they'd spent hours pouring over them. The new album was less melancholic, he was happier. She'd felt a bit responsible for that. Felt warm all over about it; she could take some credit. They'd had a whirlwind year after the movie came out. They weren't living together, but they might as well have been. Things were good, she believed that.

She had nothing to worry about, right? So why didn't he tell her? Anytime between his request and now.

"Hey, we have a stage rehearsal, tomorrow, and I think my, like, tour family, will all be there," He'd pinked up in the way she loved he still did. Like she didn't know he was soft and lovely most places, but not in the dark. "Would you come with me, meet everybody? See the ideas realized. Tell me what you think, honestly?"

She'd been afterglowing on their morning lie in, in a silly mood. "Oh, am I known for sparing your feelings, Styles?"

He burst a laugh, "no, I suppose not." He took her hand. "But I value your opinion. And I want it to be great. And you have an eye and experience." She nodded, kissed his earnest nose, where it curved down when he talked. She loved that little nuance of him. She kinda wanted to punch him in his wiggly nose right now, hours later. She felt like there were a few other details he should have given her before they'd arrived.

That somebody else she'd have to meet, that he'd be around everyday, knew what he looked like across a pillow.

Ada would not have gone then though, maybe he knew that. She might have missed it. It had all been gorgeous and everybody lovely.

Speaking of lovely, the spritely little photographer hadn't registered immediately on Ada's relationship radar. They'd shaken hands, kissed cheeks, while Harry was engaged, no red flag widening of eyes on, what was her name, when they'd been introduced. She cast her mind back to and hour ago. Until Harry was oh so helpful.

"Helene?" Harry responded and that was what had peaked her interest. She wasn't the only small blonde. They were in LA after all.

It wasn't just the way Helene went from tiny and adorable to suddenly sexy when Harry was nearby. She hadn't done anything. Nothing discernible, really, but Ada read people, something about being the only black girl in most rooms, you learned who to talk to, avoid. Helene, as Harry had helpfully supplied, had pouted her lips, jutted a hip, minutely.

And Harry. He'd been Harry, warm and lovely and affectionate. The touch, though, had been familiar. Lingered one second to long.

And his eyes had closed when they hugged.

That's when Ada had known.

He closed his eyes. The way she caught him doing in the mirror when they hugged, Ada and Harry. What did that mean? What were their feelings? Repressed? Explored? Rejected? All the things she didn't know were what made her madder and madder, more alarmingly insecure on the way home.

Could two women be more different?

"Yes Helene!" She huffed and threw her jacket and the Gucci purse he'd given her, that she sorta liked, on the floor. "But thanks for confirming!"

"Why are you upset?" She whirled on him and he looked sincerely confused.

"Because you've fucked her!" Her hands flashed up to her chin level where her shoulders were. His reaction would confirm or deny.

"Ada," he hesitated. Bingo! Her anger could be hot, it would flare then disappear, unless it was fanned. He was tiptoeing, it pissed her off. "Smokes!"

"Don't!" She warned.

"You know I wasn't a virgin when we got together babe, you know where I've been."

She figured he meant his fluidity, but in this case, specificity was the problem. "No, I actually don't! Which is the fucking problem! I know you fucked any willing tall, blonde groupie that one year, and a couple boys for your trouble. And your exes, Camille." Harry winced. She knew he could have loved that one. "Weren't you with her on tour? I didn't think you were a cheater."

He caught her hands, came close. "I didn't cheat, she wanted it open. That's not fair, Ada, what are you really mad about here? I'm lost. That I've had sex before? That I slept with two women concurrently, with their knowledge? That you had to meet a person from my past? You know Kendall already."

Fucking Kendall, Ada didn't love that they were around each other so much. Fuck, she didn't know she was such a jealous person, maybe she usually didn't give a fuck.

"I'm livid that you didn't respect me enough to give me a heads up that you were fucking your photographer before I had to meet her!" She pushed his hand away and he went to re-establish the connection but she balled her fist.

"Ada! I don't, it wasn't a relationship, I didn....how'd you even know?"

"Oh fuck you Styles! You meant to hide it?" She went to push him and grabbed his shirt instead.

"No, no, no, no!" He repeated over and over. "I didn't, I don't, I just didn't think about it! I've told you about my relationships, all of them." He looked scared and she softened just a touch. "I guess, because it was just a few times..."

"Harry, she may not have been a girlfriend, but you'll be with her all the time, on tour, and you fell into something before, and I feel...." she searched for the word. Scared. "Disrespected."

"I," he reached for her, lost like her, needing connection, and she went to him this time. Anger still simmering. "I can see that, and I'm sorry. I just...you've nothing to worry about, Smokes, I love you. I love you so." He said it against her mouth, and she went banked, coals in a grate, the heat into his mouth, her breath still huffed. Even the kiss he graced her with wasn't enough to extinguish her fire. Her worry.

The kiss was soft, a press of his gorgeous omitting mouth to hers. All full lipped and minted breath. Tentative, he kissed, provided the gentle suction she loved on her top lip, bottom lip, then top again before his tongue slide against her own to tangle and distract.

He gave her a cursory gentle nip, on the third retreat and parry and that was it. She bit him back and grabbed his hair, missing the slightly longer locks he had just sheared. They would be good to pull. She yanked his neck back, and he rolled his eyes down to her, gentled his neck. Ada guided him down, not so gentle pressure on his neck. Harry went easy to his knees, kissed hers, then her thighs, between, as penance. Asked forgiveness with his eyes and gentle neck, obedience. "Lick me!" And he'd done until she said "stop!"

But it wasn't enough. Even when he let her tie him down, showed his belly and his ass in contrition. The marks on his ass felt right, he pinked up in a way she didn't.

It was an occasional reversal they played in. But it was more common after Ada met Helene, because she couldn't stop asking herself whether the photographer wasn't mentioned because she didn't matter, or because she did.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry style fanfic #apol #tryst #halensee #a premontion of love

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disappearinginq · 5 years

Text

So, because I said I was open to prompts and requests, I think I should probably clarify why I refuse any and all ships, no matter the prompt.

In every fandom.

It’s actually very little to do with fandom. It has to do with real life people. While I get that not everyone believes reality works the way that fandoms do, I’ll give you a real life example of how I came to despise what ‘shipping’ represents.

I was in the military. My two best friends in the whole world were guys. Not that weird, considering the job rating I had, and that it’s 3-1 male/female ratio in the Navy. One I met at A School (the school after boot camp where we learn job specifics) - for the sake of argument, we’re going to call him Witt. Witt and I hit it off immediately - we were both from the countryside, we grew up on farms in towns where populations were smaller than that of an average Navy vessel. We could look at the sky and tell you without thinking if it was going to snow, rain, or have a twister spring up. While in A School - where we were stuck for over a year - we did everything together. We went camping, we went boating, we toured all over Chicago to the museums, to the Navy Pier, horse back riding in Wisconsin, to the movies, etc. Everything. Partly because students at A-school had to have someone with them (a liberty buddy) and partly because we liked to do the same things - namely, not drink, smoke, fight, and have sex with strangers, which seemed to be the hobby of 99% of our other shipmates. Here’s the thing - Witt had a girlfriend he was absolutely, head over heels in love with. It was one of the first things that he said to me, while showing me pictures of them together. This worked out phenomenally well for me, because I had no interest in dating. So he was safely off the market and not about to make a move on me, and I wasn’t about to try and break up him and the love of his life. Good times all around. Except...

No one believed we weren’t doing anything. And I mean, we never held hands. We never hugged. We never high fived, sat too close, nothing. We never actually touched each other, except once when he fell off his horse and I helped pull him back up from mine. That’s it. In 18 months of knowing one another, that was it. His girlfriend didn’t believe that we weren’t up to anything. My roommates told me ‘fuck his girlfriend, you’re here now, no one would ever know’ and ‘you’re perfect together’ and ‘you should totally make a move’ and ‘what do you mean, you haven’t slept together? Why not?’. Our chain of command didn’t believe we weren’t doing anything, and actually stopped us from hanging out together - we had to get other people to lie on paper to say they were coming somewhere with us, and then go around the buildings and split off. Now we looked really shifty, and no one can mind their own business, and his girlfriend started to hear the rumors. So in tears, she gave him an ultimatum: stop seeing me, in any capacity, or leave her. This was a girl he’d been in love with all through high school. He talked non stop about her. He was about to propose the next day when she called him to tell him it was her or me. Naturally, he chose her. I don’t blame him. I didn’t see him again. On social media, I found out he not only is married to the love of his life, but they have an adorable daughter, and they live twenty minutes from me. He snuck me pictures of her on messenger once, telling me if he could, I would’ve been her godmother. As it stands, because everyone has told his wife that two people can’t be friends with absolutely nothing sexual or romantic between them, I can’t even go visit them. It’s been almost 10 years.

Example number two: Nix. Nix was like the little brother I didn’t even know I wanted until I met him. We were partners as military police (master at arms force in the Navy, because we don’t like having the same vocab as everyone else) for three years. Nix was already married - again, love of his life. They’d been ‘in love’ since they were seven, so this again worked in my favor - he would never make a move on me, and I would never make a move on him. Friends, with absolutely no worries about ‘but what if’ or ‘friendzone’ or any other weird ‘but do I like him as a friend, or something more?’ BS. Being an MA, you spend every waking hour with your partner. That’s 12 hours a day glued to each other’s side. You either love one another, or hate one another. Nix almost died. I don’t really feel like going into detail how. But I found out how far I was willing to go for a friend. I knew his wife. Impossible not to. Like Witt, Nix talked about her every day. I would wave as I was walking by on Skype.

I’ve stopped talking about Nix to people who aren’t in the military. Because no one understands that just because you are willing to do terrible things for someone, doesn’t mean you don’t love them as family. I tell non-military friends about all the time we spent together, and they act like teenage girls at a sleepover party going “ooo, what happened between you?” and the more I tell them nothing, the more disgusting the scenarios they provide, until eventually, I stopped telling any story involving him. Now it’s like he died anyway (even though he is in fact fine, living with his wife and daughter out of the service back home).

Just because you love someone doesn’t mean you want to sleep with them. Just because you’re friends with someone, doesn’t mean you were ‘meant to be together’. You can care, and that can be the end of it.

TL;DR - not everyone wants to fuck their friends, metaphorically or otherwise. Stop acting like the only relationships that exist are sexual ones.

#soap box time #but seriously #i fucking hate ships #I hate romance #and a lot of fandoms get ruined because of it #nothing I ever write is going to be romance #or a pairing #or anything besides friendship #because people need to understand that some of us *despise* everything getting turned into a romance

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modernlcve · 5 years

Text

* — stats — colton thacker !

* — basics !

full name: colton joseph thacker. nickname(s): prefers none. age: twenty - four. date of birth: may first. place of birth: barlow, kentucky. gender: male. pronouns: he / him. sexual orientation: questioning level of education: high school graduate. recipient of a bachelor’s degree in history, currently pursuing his master’s.

* — physical !

tattoos: none. piercings: none. notable features: his nose is distinct? quite tall also.. didnt fact check that he just looks tall. weakness(es): injured his left shoulder playing baseball in high school, it never fully bounced back. scar(s): one on the upper Bit of his left arm.

* — domestic !

occupation: line cook at a diner. ta. residence: lives alone and lives humbly. social class: lower middle class. parents: jody thacker, age 54, works at the factory, a strong and silent type ( which makes it all the better when he gets in a good joke now and again ). tanya thacker, age 49, a school teacher, one of those nice church ladies that always has her nose in other people’s business. siblings: kyleigh thacker, his sister. i picture them to be pretty close, even if differently dispositioned. extended family: large, spread throughout his home county. especially close with his paternal grandparents, farmers who are well known within the community. two beautiful nephews he would Die for.

* — personality !

positive traits: insightful. courteous. reflective. negative traits: obstinate. envious. myers-briggs ( x ): istj, the logistician. temperament: phlegmatic. moral alignment: neutral good. horoscope: taurus, the bull. hogwarts house: ravenclaw.

* — favorites !

movie: raiders of the lost ark. tv show: game of thrones. book: child of god by cormac mccarthy. drink: ale 8. food: sheperd’s pie. animal: crows. color: red. song: give my love to the rose by johnny cash. artist: willie nelson. celebrity crush: ariana grande.

* — impressions !

first impression: he doesn’t make a strong first impression. he’s quiet, polite, but he isn’t exceptionally forthcoming. he’s nice enough to get by but could be intimidating on first look alone. self impression: he doesn’t quite know What his deal is. he knows he’s bit odd, at least for where he’s from, but he doesn’t think that’s a bad thing. he’s used to thinking of himself as different, but he’s learned to embrace that over the years. lover impression: he’s a romantic, at heart. he’s a gentleman who has like perhaps bit old - fashioned ideas of what that means. he’s not like gonna be shitty about an independent woman but boy he does believe in like paying for dates and opening doors and shit.

* — et cetera !

turn ons: intelligent. shiny hair. bit of a smart mouth. turn offs: a superiority complex. aversion to nature. drink/drugs/smoke: yes/no/sometimes. dominant hand: right. clean or messy: clean. early bird or night owl: early bird. hobbies or special talents: he played baseball through high school. got a bit good at racing in his old truck ( rip ) hasn’t given the new one a real shot yet.

* — QUESTIONNAIRE !

01. where was your character born? what brought them to st louis? what do they like most about the town?

colton was born in barlow, kentucky. he came to st louis for grad school. on the surface, its why he came to st louis specifically. in general though, he was brought to anywhere out of barlow just because small town life just simply isn’t for him. he likes st louis because it represents potential. it’s all the excitement and change and opportunity he’s been looking for, even now, after being settled here a few years.

02. who are your character’s friends and family? who do they surround themselves with? who are the people your character is closest to?

colton’s immediate family consists of his parents and his sister, and, by extension, her family. he gets along well enough with his parents, even if they don’t always see eye to eye on certain things. he’s closer with his sister and spends a decent amount of his weekends loitering around her place, hanging out with her kids. he surrounds himself mostly with his classmates, enjoying the conversation that comes from like minded people, even if they can’t always relate to him. he’s closest with his sister, or his grandfather, whom he calls at least once a week, more in the rare event that he’s homesick. pa may not always get what colton’s going on about but he tries and that’s what matters.

03. what is your character’s biggest fear? who have they told this to? who would they never tell this to? why?

colton’s biggest fear is that he’ll always be Yearning for more. he feels pretty satisfied in st louis, but he also once felt satisfied in the town he did undergrad in, and his hometown, but he always ends up ready for something more. he comes from the kind of place where you’re supposed to have deep roots, to live on the land that your family has lived on for ages, and he really does wish that was enough for him. it’d make things easier. but he always wants to be moving and growing and really is afraid he’s going to miss out on getting just like happy, simple, domestic times because of that. he wants more out of life than his town had to offer, but he didn’t want to abandon the idea of family and home completely. he’d never tell his family this, because he feels like he’s got to keep some kind of strong face, for #toxicmasculinity reasons just as much as needing to prove that he made the right choice in leaving.

04. has your character ever been in love? had a broken heart?

yeah colton had a high school sweetie. her name was lacey, they started dating when they were fourteen, fresh into high school, went to the same place for undergrad, lived back home together for a year, and then called it quits when colton decided to go back to school and move to st louis. she’s his first and only Real Love, but, she got a job teaching at their high school, and was ready to just settle into living in their hometown again. even when they decided they could make long distance work while he was at school, he knew he wouldn’t be able to just finish up in st louis and move back. yeah it broke his heart a bit but he ended things a week before he headed out. hurt like hell but maybe deep down he does still imagine that something will happen and they’ll get back together without him moving home one day, you know, like an idiot.

06. it’s saturday at noon. what is your character doing? give details.

again, he likes to fuck around with kyleigh and her kids on the weekends. when he moved, it was never to get away from his family, just the place, and it’s nice to have them around and still be able to hang out with the kids and stuff. if he’s not with them, he’s probably reading. fucking nerd.

07. what is one strong memory that has stuck with your character since childhood?

back when their grandfather was a little more Spry, whenever spring came, he’d go on long meandering walks out in the woods on sunday mornings ( before church ). he had never been a hunter, or a fisher, it wasn’t anything like that, just a nice little walk. when he was like 12 colton decided he needed to be his annoying tag along who probably ruined the purpose of the walks by breaking how quiet and serene the woods were that early, but pa just ran with it. they’d talk about whatever came up and it made colton feel special to be a part of something that had always been a special ritual every spring.

09. what is something that upsets your character? where do they go when they’re upset?

i feel like it takes a lot to actually upset him. he’s pretty chill. smaller things, he’s pretty good at just brushing off and moving on from. he’s upset by like rational things ( assholes, people coming for his family, questioning his choices ) i guess can’t relate. he still finds walks in the Woods comforting, good for clearing your mind, but most likely he just tries to distract himself with a book or some mindless tv ( yeah he has a few pawn shows bookmarked for this exact reason ).

10. when your character thinks of their childhood kitchen, what smell do they associate with it? why?

whatever the smell is, it’s heavy. something meaty and greasy that would be accompanied by starchy, weighty sides and some kind of bread, because that’s what makes a meal, obviously. they’ve always been a big dinner around the supper table kind of family. porkchops, cube steak, and chicken anyway you could have it were all on frequent rotation.

#( colton thacker. )#( stats. )

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defineguilty · 5 years

Text

FULL CHARACTER INFO SHEET

BASIC INFORMATION

♛┋FULL NAME: Neal George Caffrey ♛┋NICKNAME(S): Do aliases count as nicknames? ♛┋OCCUPATION: FBI Consultant / Former Con-Artist ♛┋AGE: 32+ depending on verse ♛┋DATE OF BIRTH: March 21st ♛┋GENDER: cis male ♛┋PRONOUNS: he/him ♛┋ORIENTATION: bisexual biromantic ♛┋NATIONALITY: american ♛┋ETHNICITY: white ♛┋RELIGION: catholic, but not really practicing actively

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE

♛┋FACE CLAIM: Matt Bomer ♛┋EYE COLOUR: blue ♛┋HAIR COLOUR: brown ♛┋DOMINANT HAND: right ♛┋HEIGHT: 5' 11½" // 182cm ♛┋BUILD: athletic ♛┋TATTOOS: none ♛┋SCARS: none to speak of ♛┋PIERCINGS: none ♛┋GLASSES: occasionally when undercover/under an alias, but he has perfect vision ♛┋STYLE: Sophisticated & elegant. He very rarely leaves the house without a suit, often accessorizing with a hat. Usually somewhat vintage, but styled on the modern side. The most casual he usually goes is suit pants with a T-shirt or sweater.

FAMILY

♛┋PARENT #1: James Bennett (father) ♛┋PARENT #2: Angela Caffrey-Bennett (mother) ♛┋SIBLING(S): n/a ♛┋CHILDREN: n/a ♛┋PET(S): n/a ♛┋RELATIONSHIP WITH PARENTS: Non-existent. His father was a corrupt cop who killed a fellow cop and was arrested for it. Until his 18th birthday, Neal was led to believe his dad was a hero who died on the job and knowing the truth about his definitely messed up his entire world view. Add to that the fact that James tried to use Neal to get off after running from authorities for a murder he did commit and Neal certainly has all of the daddy issues. His mother, Neal feels less strong dislike and anger for. She was never a very stable presence in his life and the arrest of his father didn’t exactly help her. Instability and substance abuse made her a rather unfit mother and even though Neal would never say she was bad to him, Ellen was always the only real mother-figure he had. He hasn’t talked to his mother since he was eighteen and she hasn’t reached out either. ♛┋RELATIONSHIP WITH SIBLING(S): n/a

BACKGROUND INFORMATION

♛┋HOMETOWN: St. Louis, Missouri ♛┋CURRENT: New York City, New York ♛┋LANGUAGE(S): English, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, French, German, conversational Italian & Swahili ♛┋SOCIAL CLASS: middle class ♛┋DEGREE: three MBAs and two doctorate degrees but... none of them legit. (in reality, Neal never graduated High School) ♛┋RAP SHEET? bond forgery (at least that’s the only thing they caught him on) ♛┋PRISON TIME? 4 years for bond forgery, another 4 years after breaking out of prison just before his sentence was up -- to be served as a consultant for the FBI

PSYCHOLOGY INFORMATION

♛┋JUNG TYPE: ESTP ♛┋ENNEATYPE: Type 3 -- The Achiever: Focused on the presentation of success, to attain validation & 7w8 ( Type 7 -- The Enthusiast: Pleasure seekers and planners, in search of distraction & Type 8 -- The Challenger: Taking charge, because they don't want to be controlled) ♛┋MORAL ALIGNMENT: Chaotic Neutral / Chaotic Good ♛┋TEMPERAMENT: Sanguine ♛┋SCHEMA: Insufficient self-control (very strong). Other contenders include Unrelenting standards, Emotional inhibation, Abandonment and Entitlement hahaaa ♛┋INTELLIGENCE TYPE: Linguistic & Visual are at the same score. Interpersonal is second place. ♛┋NEUROTYPE: Neurotypical

PERSONALITY DETAILS

♛┋POSITIVE: charming, witty, inventive, creative, intelligent ♛┋NEGATIVE: sly, dishonest, distrusting, guarded, detached ♛┋DREAMS/AMBITIONS: Neal’s main goal is always a sense of fun and adventure. he doesn’t have a set end-goal either way -- not the white picket fence life, but also not the life of the fancy villa in some country that doesn’t extradite as some sort of crime lord. He likes the thrill of a con, so if he can make it happen, keeping that alive is what he cares about most. ♛┋FEARS: Among is main fears is definitely turning out like his father. Having idolized him for so many years before he knew who he really was and then seeing a few similarities between them after all really does scare him. He’s aware he’s far from the most honest person alive, but he likes to believe he would never turn to murder or betraying his own closest family and friends the way his father did.

RELATIONSHIPS / SEX

♛┋RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Verse dependent ♛┋PREVIOUS RELATIONSHIPS: Several ambivalent on-off relationships (see Alex Hunter), plenty of casual affairs and only a few more serious relationships. The first big one being with Kate which, obviously, was something he was incredibly serious and passionate about. Also the only relationship to date he was so open about and had no shame admitting he’s deeply in love and would do anything for her. The only other (canon) relationship, although also without labels attached, was with Sara which remains his most healthy relationship, though it was foiled by circumstance and perhaps, just Neal’s inability of honesty at the time. ♛┋LEVEL OF SEXUAL EXPERIENCE: high ♛┋STORY OF FIRST KISS: Technically, it happened in the third grade after he drew a girl in his class a nice picture and they then proceeded to date for three weeks, which really just consisted of them holding hands twice, Neal drawing more pictures and that one first kiss at recess. Showed Brittney Nicole too -- his tooth gap clearly wasn’t that bad. ♛┋STORY OF FIRST TIME: Neal had just turned 17 and at the time, had his first more serious girlfriend. They’d been dating for a few months at the time and it happened after a night of plenty of shenanigans on a random Saturday. For Neal, sneaking out was never an issue anyway since parental supervision wasn’t exactly a thing, so no sneaking had to take place, and she’d told her parents she was staying at a friend’s place. Originally, they’d planned to just do whatever they felt like, something they both enjoyed very much (usually that meant Neal rigging the games at a local Arcade and winning her a bunch of stuffed animals or them hanging out at his favorite pool hall where he’d regularly earn a little extra by making some older guys who underestimated him play for money) but that night, they decided to up the stakes a little. They stopped by a second-hand store in town, bought complete outfits (suit and a cocktail dress, respectively) and then proceeded to drive to one of the fancier hotels in town. Somehow, they convinced the guy at the reception that they were relatives of the owner and should have been announced. They ended up getting one of the nicer rooms in the hotel for the night (and, for free!) and the exhilaration of the con pulled off well led to both of their first time.

VICES / HABITS

♛┋SMOKES? No (unless it’s part of a cover) ♛┋DRINKS? Yes, but preferably something respectable and only for taste and enjoyment, not specifically to get drunk ♛┋DOES DRUGS? No ♛┋IS VIOLENT? No ♛┋HAS AN ADDICTION? Well, technically he did say that a con is an addiction and that he hasn’t kicked it yet, so. That. ♛┋IS SELF-DESTRUCTIVE? Yes. I think while he comes off very confident and considers himself very confident too, there’s a couple things he just doesn’t believe will happen in his life for him. Among those are stable relationships, so he can sometimes subconsciously be destructive towards those and therefore proof his belief-system. ♛┋HABITS: He likes to have something to do with his hands, especially when he’s nervous. Be it throwing something and catching it again, or just twirling a pen between his fingers. ♛┋HOBBIES: Art, Reading, Cooking, Languages ♛┋OBSESSION(S): Depends on what’s currently important. Kate and the music box definitely developed into a sort of obsession at the time. I think in general, when intense things come up, especially when they threaten his loved ones, Neal has the tendency to get obsessive about them and let those things take over his life (or at least his private life) for the time being.

MISCELLANEOUS INFORMATION

♛┋HOUSE: Raveclaw, though a serious contestant for Slytherin ♛┋VICE: Pride ♛┋VIRTUE: Willingness to do almost everything to protect/help those he cares about ♛┋ELEMENT: Air ♛┋MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: Siren or Centaur ♛┋ANIMAL: Fox ♛┋WOULD SURVIVE POST-APOC? Probably not. He’s very smart and would probably find a way to survive for a little while by somehow securing food and the like, but he has practically no combat skills and the second he needs to fight for his life, he would die ♛┋SONG TO DESCRIBE THEM?: Alibis by Marianas Trench

DETAILS / QUIRKS

♛┋PET PEEVES: All of the pet peeves. For someone with an affinity for the illegal, a lot of little things really annoy him. Some examples: the toilet seat being left up, gum on the sidewalk, people eating very fragrant food in confined spaces just to name a few ♛┋NIGHT OWL OR EARLY BIRD?: Night owl ♛┋LIGHT OR HEAVY SLEEPER?: More on the heavy side ♛┋FAVORITE FOOD?: He couldn’t pick. But he does have a real soft spot for cheese. Also risotto. ♛┋LEAST FAVORITE FOOD?: Deviled ham ♛┋FAVORITE DRINK?: Red Wine ♛┋FAVORITE BOOK (GENRE)?: Non-fiction for genre. I don’t think he has a single favorite book though. ♛┋FAVORITE MOVIE?: He likes classic Hollywood movies, ngl. Sunset Boulevard is among one of his favorites. Romantic movies, in general. ♛┋LEAST FAVORITE MOVIE?: Anything super action-heavy or overly crude. ♛┋FAVORITE PLACE TO BE?: Not in jail is a great start. France, though, if he could have his choice. ♛┋COFFEE OR TEA?: Coffee. ♛┋FAVORITE COLOR?: Navy blue. ♛┋CUSSER? No. Shit is probably the worst thing he’ll say

#hi i was bored and wanted to do things #┊ ♔ to be an artist you must know who you are 【 CHARACTER STUDIES 】#long post

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sending-the-message · 6 years

Text

The Thing On the Side of My House by MrClarenceWorley

I was out with this girl I met through a free dating app and the evening had been going surprisingly well, considering. I had recently moved and was telling her about my new place during dinner when my date commented that she would love to see it sometime.

Imagine my surprise when I jokingly suggested that we stop by on the way to bring her home and she replied with, “That works.”

I pulled up in front of my place just as my date finished detailing her theory about the movie we had seen before dinner. She turned to look at the two-story duplex and nodded.

“Nice… which one’s yours?”

“The left side,” I said and began to open my door.

I felt a hand clamp around my arm as my date suddenly shouted, “Wait!”

“Why, what’s up?” I said, still clutching the driver’s side door handle as I turned to find the girl looking more than a little spooked.

“Who’s that on the side of your house?” she asked, her voice trembling nervously.

“Where?” I replied. Following her gaze, I squinted into the darkness lining the narrow grass alleyway between my duplex and the neighboring house.

Alleyway Photo

“Right there,” she said and pointed a finger at the alley. I peered into the dark for another beat and shrugged. My date glanced back at me and furrowed her brow. “You really can’t see him?”

I shook my head and the girl let out a frustrated scoff as she began to dig through her purse. She retrieved her phone and snapped a picture of the alleyway. She then zoomed into the photo she had just taken and handed the phone to me.

Closer Alleyway Photo

“See?”

It took another beat for my brain to fully process what I was viewing but then sure enough, I DID see. I saw the figure clear as day, standing there against the side of my house. No, not “against”...

They appeared to be sliding THROUGH the brick wall. Here’s a brighter, slightly magnified version of the above photo with the figure outlined in red so you can see exactly what I mean:

Brightened Alleyway Photo

Apparently, taking a picture of it had drawn the figure’s attention and I looked up from the phone to find it was now stomping toward us on oddly jointed legs. As my date saw this, she blindly shot out a hand and grabbed me by the arm again, her eyes fixed on the nearing silhouette.

I started the car and was already shifting into drive as she screamed, “GO! GO! GO!”

We peeled out of there at roughly the speed of sound and once my heartrate had settled enough to let me properly navigate, I drove my date back to her place. She still seemed pretty shaken up as I was walking her to her door and she asked if I would mind sticking around for a little bit, just until she could calm down.

I told her that might not be the best idea, explaining that the figure in the alley appeared to be coming out of the wall connected to my bedroom and if it was after me specifically, then I was the last person she wanted to be around right now.

"Good point,” she replied and hurried inside her apartment before shutting the door and promptly locking it.

I waved at the closed door and said, “I’ll call you.”

I heard her muffled response just as I was turning away…

“I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

I shrugged as I started back toward the car, muttering, “Fair enough.”

I went to a 24-hour IHOP, where I sat sipping stale coffee until sometime after dawn that next morning. In the cold light of day, I then headed back to the duplex and did a thorough sweep of my place. It appeared to be completely free of shadowy figures, so I went outside and started to walk the length of the alley where we had seen the one from the previous night.

I paused to examine the spot where it had appeared to phase through my bedroom wall. Streaked across the brick surface was a thin black trail of what looked like soot. The substance left a dark red smear across my fingers when I touched it.

As I headed back inside to wash my hands, I happened to glance up at the neighboring house and spotted something that made me halt… There, mounted beneath the rain-gutter, was a small security camera aimed almost directly at the stain on the wall outside my bedroom.

I waited until a more reasonable hour of the day and then headed over to the neighbor’s house, fully prepared to explain what I had seen the night before and ask if I could take a look at the footage from their security camera, but no one came to the door when I knocked.

I glanced inside the porch window and saw a room completely devoid of furniture. The floor was covered in a thin film of dust. There was no car in the driveway and I didn’t remember seeing one in the week I had been living nextdoor.

I asked the couple renting the other side of my duplex and they said they were pretty sure the house had been empty as long as they’d lived there. I then asked if they had a ladder I could borrow.

I used the ladder to get a better look at this mysterious security camera and then, Googling the model number on its casing, I learned that it was a type of cloud-camera that wirelessly transmitted its feed to the internet via a local wifi connection.

After several hours of very uninteresting internet detective work, I finally figured out how to gain access to the account linked to that particular cloud-camera and it was here that things officially went from "sort of weird" to "balls-ass, nuts-to-butts Crazy Town":

The secure profile page I was lead to had several URLs listed which linked to five different camera feeds in total. The one transmitting a live image of the side of my house was the top link and I scanned it briefly before backing out and clicking on the next URL.

Wherever this second camera was located, it had to be inside somewhere. Possibly underground. Definitely someplace dark. I could make out a series of pipes jutting up passed a bulky metal shape that was only partially illuminated by the fractured beam of a very dim overhead light.

I eventually realized that I was looking at some kind of industrial boiler. Just then, the shadows lining the left side of the boiler seemed to shift and my heart began racing until I realized it was just a rat crawling out into the light.

The third link showed me an ancient willow tree draped in Spanish moss. The tree had a massive knot at the center of its trunk that looked large enough to fit a person inside. A strange feeling came over me as I peered into the darkness just beyond the knot’s gnarled oval rim and I promptly closed the window before clicking on the next link down.

The shot from this camera was a lot tighter than the previous ones. Judging from all the black stagnant water and overturned pews littering the frame, I was looking at the dilapidated interior of a partially flooded church. I studied the church feed for a few more moments before closing it and I was about to click on the final link when I realized I had lost control over the on-screen pointer.

For several seconds, all I could do was sit there in stunned silence and watch as whoever was remotely operating my laptop began the process of wiping the entire hard drive.

When I finally snapped out of my stupor, I powered down the laptop and unclipped the battery on the bottom. I tossed the laptop out the window of my car as I was speeding down the interstate a few minutes later. I had no idea where I was going, but I was sure of one thing: there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d be sleeping at my house tonight. Or possibly ever again.

I called my best friend Hunter and told him the whole story in one long, breathless monologue. I’m not sure how much of it he actually believed but Hunter could hear the desperate tone in my voice and offered to let me crash at his place. Of course, he had me recount the whole ordeal a second time once I got there.

He definitely didn’t seem anymore convinced when I was done but Hunter could tell that I certainly believed what I was saying, which was good enough for him. That night, after a bit of tossing and turning on the futon in Hunter’s living room, I finally managed to drift off into an uneasy and dreamless half-sleep.

Then, at around 3AM, I suddenly woke for what initially seemed like no reason. I had rolled over in my sleep and opened my eyes to find that I was facing the door to Hunter's Bedroom. The door had been closed when I went to bed. Now, it was open.

Peering through the ajar doorway, I could see that Hunter was also awake and sitting up in his bed. He was glaring back at me, his eyes wide with fear as he mouthed the word…

Run!

A sudden surge of adrenaline sent me leaping up from the futon and I started to sprint toward the exit in what felt like slow-motion. After an eternity of fumbling with the lock on the front door, I finally managed to retract the deadbolt and yanked the door open to find two figures blocking my way.

They were both wearing black hoodies and their faces were hidden behind identical black gas-masks. I had just enough time to think to myself...

What’s with the gas-masks?

One of the figures raised a gloved fist to my face and then opened his hand, releasing a small plume of opaque white smoke directly into my mouth and nostrils and just like that, everything went dark...

When I came to, I still felt pretty woozy and it wasn't until I saw the industrial boiler in front of me that I was able to shake off my residual stupor and force myself to sit up. Everything came back to me then and I realized the figures at Hunter's door must have brought me here, to the same boiler room I had seen on one of their camera feeds.

I turned and scanned the dimly lit space until I spotted the cloud-camera mounted to the wall directly behind me. It was only then that I finally took a moment to contemplate WHY someone would have cameras set up in such a creepy location.

The camera I was currently staring at emitted a sudden whirring sound as it turned to look at something to my left. That was when I finally noticed the heavy thud of approaching footsteps from that same direction.

When the hunched figure shambled out from behind the boiler a moment later, I had just managed to squeeze myself into the gap beneath a low-hanging pipe that spanned the length of the back wall.

I didn’t have the best view of the figure from my hiding-spot but I could see that the large burlap sack they were dragging along behind them was covered in a mosaic of dried blood-splatter.

This sack currently contained what was very obviously a human body and judging by the way it kept twitching, one that wouldn’t be alive for much longer.

A voice that resembled a rusty door hinge spoke a string of what might have been words, though they sounded unlike any language I was familiar with, and then there was this purple flash that was so bright it hurt my eyes.

I turned away for a moment and when I looked back, I glimpsed the figure entering what appeared to be a long corridor composed entirely of writhing tentacles and screaming, lipless mouths…

I blinked and the figure was gone. The industrial boiler had resumed its place where the portal was a moment earlier. I waited another beat just to be safe and then started to worm my way out from under the pipe.

Using the early morning sunlight that had started to filter in from outside, I was able to find my way up to the dilapidated building above the boiler room. The place was what remained of an old grade-school that clearly hadn't been in use for some time.

The first exit I came to was chained shut from the outside but luckily someone had already punched out the window on one of the double doors and I was able to climb through it without much trouble.

I emerged onto the school's overgrown front lawn, feeling suddenly very aware of the fact that I wasn't wearing any pants. An understandable mistake, considering I had forgotten them last night at Hunter’s while fleeing for my life.

Of course, that didn’t make my present situation any less awkward. Luckily, it was then that I heard someone honk their horn and turned to see an ecstatic Hunter waving at me from his car, which was parked in the adjacent lot.

I sprinted over and opened the passenger door to find my jeans lying folded on the seat. I raised both hands in celebration as I saw this and shouted, “My fucking hero.”

On the drive back to his place, Hunter explained how he woke up with a note taped to his forehead that contained the dilapidated school’s address and a message which read:

YOUR FRIEND NEEDS HIS PANTS.

When he saw that my jeans were still there but I wasn't, Hunter started to freak out and immediately drove to the address on the note.

“I was about to go inside and start looking for you when you came stumbling out like that... Just how drunk did we GET last night because I don't remember a goddamn thing.”

Clearly, whoever was behind all this had left me my own message when they abducted me and stuck me down in that boiler room. One that essentially said...

STOP SNOOPING AROUND OR YOU’LL END UP TWITCHING INSIDE A BLOODY BURLAP SACK!

Deal.

#reddit #nosleep #scary #story

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kieren-fucking-walker · 6 years

Text

To Give Meaning (Brotzly Christmas Fic)

In which sometimes the meaning behind the gift is the most important thing of all, and sometimes Todd gets it all right (for a change.)

Here’s the fluffy Christmas Brotzly I promised! Heed the notes, my fluff writing is… really not that great compared to my angst and I have had quite a few glasses of wine but I promised and have delivered.

Happy Holidays you lovely lot <3

(AO3)

Todd collapses down onto the sofa after the goodbyes have finished and the door has finally closed behind Farah. It’s close to midnight now, Christmas is almost over and he can hear Dirk rattling around the kitchen doing something Todd can only hope isn’t going to end in disaster. They’ve somehow gotten through the day without it so far, he’d like to keep it that way just for once.

It’s the best Christmas he’s had in a long time. If he’s being honest Todd had never much cared for the holiday, not after Amanda had stopped believing in Santa and it had lost that last spark of magic, even less so when he was juggling all the lies he’d been telling to his family. For the last few years he hadn’t even gone home, just dropped in on Amanda and spent the day watching movies and drinking together which had been fine, good actually, but none of those days had anything on today.

Dirk had woken him up at the ungodly hour of 7am by sneaking around and trying to hide presents under the tree he’d insisted on putting up on the first of December. He’d knocked the tree over in the process and Todd had caught him, wide-eyed with tinsel in his hair denying all involvement. He’d let Dirk get as far as blaming Santa before accepting his fate as being awake for the day and going to make coffee, he needed three cups before the sound of Christmas songs stop making him want to bash his head through the wall. An hour later Dirk had forced him into a horrendously garish Christmas jumper and nearly burned the kitchen down making bacon pancakes. Todd had forgiven him almost immediately because he’d been too distracted by the fact that Dirk could sing, even more distracted by the smile he’d gotten when he’d joined in, to notice the bacon was starting to smoke.

Farah had turned up just as they’d finished airing out the kitchen and righting the Christmas tree and under her supervision they’d managed to put together something resembling a Christmas dinner while Dirk tried and failed to hide his excitement. It turned out to be contagious, Farah’s smile came easier than usual and Todd didn’t even complain when Dirk held mistletoe over his head and demanded he kiss him, he’d just rolled his eyes and leaned in.

Hobbs and Tina had called after dinner had passed without incident, giving them a slightly drunken rendition of “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” Tina had reminded Farah that she still needed someone to kiss on New Years Eve to which Farah had blushed and downed her glass of wine in lieu of giving an answer. Hobbs and Dirk complemented each other on their jumper choices and Todd watched the way Dirk lit up when Sherlock had picked out the smaller details and he’d babbled on about the knit pattern as soon as he had a willing ear.

Presents had been… an experience. Todd didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone as excited as Dirk to open presents, even Amanda who had woken him up for eight years by screaming and jumping on his bed hadn’t possessed the level of sheer delight that Dirk manages, grin reaching all the way to his eyes and shining under the Christmas lights. Todd can’t think of anything that could make him enjoy Christmas more and immediately berated himself for being so sappy. Still though, they’d sat around the tree and opened presents in an order that Dirk insisted they stick to but only he seemed to understand and by the time they’d finished Dirk had layered a new purple jacket over his jumper, Farah was balancing the weight of a set of throwing knives and Todd was trying very hard not to keep staring at the collection of Ramones original vinyl pressings that his teenage self would have thought was the coolest thing ever, and his significantly older self still did. Amanda had a present under the tree still but she hadn’t been very specific about when she’d be dropping by, sending a Merry Christmas text with a picture of Vogel wrapped in Christmas lights and promising it would be soon. Oddly enough he didn’t find himself missing her that much, not sat here laughing with Dirk and Farah, knowing she was out enjoying herself with her own found family.

The day had continued with one disastrous game of charades, but mostly with films. Farah pointing out the continuity errors and complaining about the realism of the fight scenes, Dirk providing commentary that became less and less accurate as the hours wore on, and Todd sat between them on the sofa watching them both fondly when they weren’t looking. At some point Dirk wraps an arm around him and Todd leans into his side, their relationship isn’t exactly new, but being close around other people is and even though it’s only Farah that’s with them Todd is surprised by just how much it doesn’t bother him.

There’s still something that’s been hanging over him all day though, and as the hours creep closer towards midnight he feels himself growing more nervous with it. It hits its peak when Farah announces she’s leaving for the night, bundling up her gifts and wrapping them both in warm hugs at the door and as soon as it closes behind her Todd feels his heart rate pick up, glancing at Dirk’s back as he makes his way through to the kitchen.

When Dirk comes back he’s holding two mugs, one which he holds out to Todd full of coffee, and one Todd knows is full of tea with more sugar than the numerous candy canes Dirk had been eating that morning. He smiles, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes and Dirk tilts his head thoughtfully.

“Are you alright?” he asks, sinking down next to him and sipping at his tea. For a moment Todd just watches him, trying to work out if he should go through with it or not but the decision is already made really and he sets his coffee down on the table.

“I have something for you, actually. Something else, I mean. I don’t know if…” he trails off with a sigh, shaking his head in the face of Dirk’s confused look and reaching down the back of the sofa to pull out an envelope. Dirk’s frown deepens at the sight of it.

“I don’t- Isn’t that one of our files?” he asks, placing his tea down as well when Todd holds it out to him.

“I couldn’t find another envelope to put it in,” he shrugs, rubbing at the back of his neck nervously. “I just- I might have- I don’t want to-” his stuttering through reasoning isn’t making the situation any better and he just waves his hand as a go ahead to open it, unable to make eye contact and wondering if he’s made a huge mistake.

Dirk can’t work out what would have Todd so worried, and it’s making him a little nervous himself. More than that though he’s curious, and he flips the envelope over to open it with more care than he’s opened anything, even the parcel he’d thought may have been a bomb. Somehow this seems to carry more weight.

It’s just sheets of paper at first sight, and he’s even more confused until he pulls them out a little and sees the bold type stamped across the top of the page. There’s nothing he can do for a moment but stare, reading the words but not quite registering them.

Probate and Family Court Department - Change of Name Petition.

“Oh,” is what comes out when he finally opens his mouth to speak. There are tears stinging at his eyes and when he manages to tear his gaze away from the page Todd is watching him with wide eyes, chewing on his lip and fidgeting with his fingers.

“I just thought, you know, after everything… and you never legally got it changed so if you ever had to give a legal name it wouldn’t be your name and I know you hate the other one and-” he’s rambling too much but Dirk is still just staring at him and he hasn’t actually said anything but he looks like he’s going to cry. Todd wonders if he’s hugely miscalculated and panics. “Sorry. Fuck, this was a stupid idea I’ll just-” he doesn’t get chance to finish his sentence because Dirk has pulled him into a hug that’s far too tight and there’s a wetness where he’s hidden his face against his neck. It’s instinct to hug him back, heart still racing but feeling like maybe it’s not as bad as he’d thought.

“I…” Dirk trails off, finally easing off a bit and pulling back to look at him, eyes flickering over Todd’s face as he works out what to say. “You’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met,” and Todd would laugh if it wasn’t for the gravity with which he says it, like he’s never been more sure of anything in his life. Todd has never known what to do when faced with Dirk’s unfailing certainty.

“It’s not a big deal. It’s not like… I didn’t have to pay for it or anything. I mean, it will have to be paid for if you want to do it, that is. I just…” voicing his emotions has never been his strong suit, he doesn’t know how to tell Dirk he deserves everything Todd can give him and ten times more. Doesn’t know how to say he just wants him to be happy, that he wants them both to have a chance at a new start. “I love you,” it may be the easiest way to say it but that doesn’t take away from the meaning behind the words. Dirk smiles, it’s watery but still reaches his eyes and he reaches out to cup Todd’s jaw with his hand.

“I love you too,” and maybe Dirk has always found it easier to say but that doesn’t mean he means it any less. Todd knows that, he feels it when Dirk pulls him into a kiss that’s hardly any more than chaste but conveys everything neither of them have the words for right now.

When they pull apart they don’t go far, Dirk rests their heads together and Todd watches his eyes sparkle in the colours of the fairy lights strewn around the apartment. It’s gentle, soft, the kind of moment he wishes he could bottle up and pull out when either of them have bad days so they can remember what it feels like to be so completely loved by another. He can’t though, and he’s more than happy to settle for taking the moment as it is and storing it away to keep for himself.

“I’ll need to find a pen,” is what breaks the silence between them. “I’ve never filled out any real forms before, there’s a lot of pages.” He sounds almost nervous at the prospect and Todd smiles.

“We can do it together. It can’t be harder than a tax return, those things are evil. Not that you’d know,” it’s teasing, Dirk never fills out any paperwork he knows he can get someone else to do. It feels important that he does this one though, Todd wants him to do it.

“Shall we make copies just in case?” it’s an oddly sensible suggestion from Dirk that gives away how important it is to him, Todd just steals another kiss.

“Tomorrow. We’ll make copies tomorrow,” he promises, linking their fingers together and Dirk smiles, bright and happy this time.

“Tomorrow,” he agrees, pulling him back into a hug that’s gentler than the last one but no less warm. “Thank you.”

Todd just closes his eyes and leans into him, thinks that this might just be his favourite place in the world. How about that. “Merry Christmas, Dirk.”

#dghda #brotzly #my writing #christmas fic #fluff #reformat

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jinhwanxobs · 7 years

Text

munday 4! (plus the other ones kinda?)

this is my first munday here so hi everyone~! quick introduction as well i suppose (sort of summarizing a few of the other munday things) -- i’m grey and i use they/them pronouns! i am a college senior, comp. sci. major. i’ve written for fun since i could actually write, but I’ve been roleplaying (krp specifically) since fall 2014! (i’m also in central timezone -- an hour behind obscura main timezone). I don’t particularly have a strong preference for any kind of writing genre; it’s all more or less fair game!

i’m sorry this is so long lmfao

munday 1!

What is your ultimate weakness; what makes you feel all soft and squishy inside?

“cute” things? ...my biases usually...

Write the first thing to come to mind in caps: BUT WHY Three random facts about you: i used to know how to play piano, i’ve owned a pokemon game from every generation except for the wii games (which do not count), and my bias groups are vixx, infinite, btob, f(x) and bts.

munday 2!

If your muse(s) could describe you in a few words, what would they say?

“at least they’re clean...”

What is the most wicked thing you could imagine your character doing?

as a witch he could very well slip into warlock-dom at a point so i’m not sure how general this should be -- magic can really fuck you up, kids. as it currently stands he’s... i could see him ruining someone’s life on social media or something if they really pissed him off though

If your muse(s) were real, would you fight them?

yes. he’d probably beat me on size alone. probably. but it’d be worth it

What object would you erase from existence if given the opportunity?

cigarettes. the smoke and residue makes me so sick

If you had a billion dollars and could only spend it, what would you buy first?

that’s a lot of money. i’d buy a service that’d help me invest it? or something? and pay off my loans. i’m not a very material person so i... have no idea.... outside of housing and donating most of it and helping out my friends

If you could play any sport, what would it be?

does dance count as a sport?? i love watching excellent and intense choreography and i do like to dance but i am very awkward-limbed

Do you have any fun hobbies or talents you’d like to share?

i like to draw! i actually write fanfic outside of rp too. mmm i like to cook/bake as well, and i like to play video games when i get the chance

Do you have/want any pets?

i want a cat.......... please let me have a cat...........

munday 3!

What’s the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to you?

well if i’m being a sap i’d say meeting all of my rp friends; i’m extremely fortunate in that regard. but as a more specific thing, i’d say my love live luck is pretty damn incredible. my best girl fuckin loves me. when scouting for job kanan i did 6 pulls, ur came home TWICE as did the hanamaru ssr also twice, as well as another ur and two ssrs?? and i’ve gotten every one of her cards that’s come out since then?? she’s too good to me

If you could attend any concert or event right now without any obstacles, what would you choose?

i would die (my anxiety would kill me) but a vixx concert with a hi-touch event

What’s your dream vacation?

being at the ocean (can you say beautiful, destin sands) with no pressure of going anywhere, meeting anyone. just lazing in the sand and swimming out into the water. getting caught in the waves sometimes but feeling all sun warm and happily worn at the end of the day

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate? Any style preferences?

tea! hot tea i can drink with or without sugar but my cold/ice tea has to be sweet -- (bubble) milk tea is also so so good

A game you love ( traditional, video, etc )?

i love pokemon......... i’ll say it ten thousand times....... hoenn is my favorite region (i love the routes around fortree....)

Favorite/Number one go-to internet meme?

Least favorite internet meme?

Something that makes you want to flip a table?

hmm... i’d have to be in the moment of flipping the table to tell you

In your opinion, do you fit the stereotyped traits of your western zodiac sign? Do you believe that another sign fits you better? What about your muse?

i don’t know? i think i’m perhaps more like a taurus than a libra. i don’t really understand the stereotypes very well. uuuh... jinhwan? he doesn’t fit the stereotyped traits of an aries either. maybe gemini?

Post a gif of what you’re currently feeling right now.

munday 4!

Do you prefer to brainstorm your plots or wing them? Do you have no preference in either?

i’m not so sure so far as what winging a plot would be -- i like to have a pretty good idea of what’s going to happen. not necessarily detail by detail, but having a good idea of the setting and how long a thread will go, if there might need to be any location changes or time skips possibly?? those are good things to discuss. you can’t always tell how a muse will react to things until you’re writing them in that moment, so it’s good to be flexible in regard to those changes too ouo

What kind of writing memes do you like, if any (sentence starters, drabble memes, head-canon memes, etc)?

i don’t particularly like sentence starters, as it’s hard for me to come up with fitting context for them. i love headcanon memes for sure but it’s a bit hard for me to say for anything else, as i’ve not had a lot of experience with them!

What’s the easiest way to plot with you? Alternatively, what is the easiest way to contact you for plotting?

give me all your ideas, any ideas!! even if they’re very silly to begin with (mine often are) there might be a good idea for a plot buried in there~ i’ll do the same but please do let me know if i need to slow down haha discord is the single best way of getting ahold of me (thru dms) please do not hesitate to add me and send me a message! on tumblr through dms is totally fine too but i sometimes lose track of them ;;

What kind of movies/television series/dramas/anime/etc do you like to watch?

i love animated stuff! most anime, western stuff like legend of korra, atla, steven universe, young justice, teen titans, etc.; i like action movies i guess? superhero stuff is pretty alright but uh pacific rim and mm: fury road are two of my favorite movies. unless it’s pretty gripping i have trouble paying attention (and also no matter what it is i usually prefer to watch with subs bc i always get a lot more out of it that way)

Would you be interested in the occasional group viewing of a movie/series/drama/cartoon/etc, if one were to be organized?

YELL HES. i have a ton of studio ghibli movies and also all three seasons of atla and all seasons of legend of korra, if i can just figure out how to stream them i’d love to help with that sort of thing also??? ?????

If yes to the above, do you have any specifics in time or day as to when you are available to attend? If no, is there any group activity that you would be interested in participating in (ie, games of some sort)?

bruh i’m down for anything. i’ll have school coming up here this next week but i’ll for the most part be free on the weekends outside of coding and doing schoolwork and hunting bugs. i’m done with class by the evening all during the week too

If you were caught up in a food fight, what food would you throw first?

oh geez... something that wouldn’t hurt? i’d probably just be trying to get out of there asap lmfao

If you could be any mythological beast, which one would you be and why?

DRAGON. NATURALLY. big dumb scaley dog with a big pile of shiny things in a hoard. that me -v-

Top five things that make you happy?

i don’t know about top five! but here’s a few... giving someone something that you’ve thought they’d really like and actually making their day; lazy background music and ambient noises in a place of solitude; chicken tikka masala with rice and naan; drawing silly things; ...pokemon? anything and everything about it?

Share a picture! It could be of your bias, a cute animal, a drawing, a meme, an anime wife—anything you’d like!

#ooc #obs: munday #(WHO NEEDS ALL THIS INFORMATION)

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totalfanfreak · 7 years

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Set Him Free: Scud x Reader

Set Him Free

“Damn it! I mean it! Leave me alone before I tear you in half.”

You had been working on a mass of surveillance tapes for what had to be going on the twelfth hour, and now, on the last fucking four was when Scud had decided to make his debut. He was driving you up the wall, as he often did anyways, but he had been poking and prodding at you to come and eat with him for the last thirty minutes. Your focus was shot, probably missing half a dozen key details from the footage. You did your best to push the annoyance away, scooting closer to the computer.

“Come on, Y/N. You’ve sat here for hours, you gotta be hungry. I’ll even put up with your shitty taste in TV.”

You shut your eyes, breathing deep through your nose to steady yourself. It was times like this you severely regretted Eric bringing him here. Yes, Scud had many uses, yes, sometimes he made pretty good company, and, yes, it was nice he didn’t make any judgements about what the two of you were. From what you’ve seen he kind of worshipped Eric, often comparing him to Batman, only much more badass. He wasn’t afraid, a trait that awed you, but times like this you wanted to break his neck and drain him.

“Josh, I only have a few tapes to get through. I just want to finish them so I can shower and go to sleep. I haven’t slept in days.”

He rested his head on the desk, mumbling. “Haven’t eaten either.”

He stopped talking, allowing you to concentrate on the images. Eric had been sure Abe had been taken somewhere near this location, and after months of going through various sources across Europe you had your hopes high that this was it. You clicked around some more, feeling blue eyes piercing at you, hearing Scud give a few disdained sighs you got up from your seat.

“Fine! Let’s hurry up so I can finish this.”

You’d try not to admit it, but that boyish grin that spread on his face made your insides squirm.

“All right!”

Grabbing your arm, he dragged you from the away to the makeshift kitchen. He pulled a stool out for you, giving an over exaggerated bow before putting a cigarette in his mouth, stirring what was already smoking on the stove.

“I see you made assumptions about me dining with you.”

He grinned, the filter dangling from his lip as he spoke. “I know you can’t resist my charm.”

You scoffed, letting your head rest in your hand, watching him work. Scud nowhere near treated you like he did Eric, maybe it was because you looked close to his age, or that you were female, both of you childish you calling him Scuzzbucket on occasion as he called you Halfa. Even then you liked it, he made you feel human. A kind act, but it saddened you at the same time, knowing that’s all it would be.

“You know, if it anyone else talked to me that way, Scuzz, I’d have killed them a long time ago.”

His smiled stayed in place, eyes close to twinkling, as he spooned out what looked to be charred macaroni into bowls.

“I DO know. But I know you’d never hurt me, Y/N, you love me too much.”

The words hurt, maybe you did, you had never had any firsthand experience with that specific emotion. Hate, rage, depression, mania, paranoia, too many to count, but love had never been on the list. You wondered what exactly you felt for Scud – yeah, as much as you hated to say, you cared, you worried about him, he pissed you off a lot. But hearing that word from him, whatever it could be that you felt would never be reciprocated so there wasn’t any real reason to sort it all out. Without commenting you grabbed one of the bowls, falling onto a lumpy couch to turn on the TV. Clicking through you found one of the channels playing Scream, taking your mind off vampires and letting humans kill amongst themselves. You felt Scud sit down beside you, but you didn’t turn, jumping when his hand came in contact with yours, tugging the remote away from you.

“Excuse you, I was watching that.”

He had taken a bite of noodles, pushing it to the side of his cheek so he could talk. “Fuck that, Ed, Edd, and Eddy’s on, ‘sides how many times have you watched that?”

“Doesn’t matter, I got her first.”

He threw the remote in your lap, aggravated, setting his feet up on the worn coffee table before going back to his food.

“Fine, we’ll watch, but when the Powerpuffs come on we’re switching over.”

You laughed, sidling up against the armrest. “We’ll see.”

Gif by abnormal-angelgifs

You were able to eat half the burnt macaroni when the movie went off, Scud flipping to cartoons immediately. You put the bowl on the table, settling back on the cushions.

“I still don’t get it.”

His eyebrows rose. “About what?”

“All of it. Why would Billy lie about all that, betray everyone, planning to kill all of them but still have the fucking nerve to sleep with Sidney.”

“He did it because of her mom, if she hadn’t slept with his dad –“

“That had nothing to do with Sidney! Why’d he want to kill her for?”

“Guess cause you can’t leave behind witnesses.”

“Whatever, maybe I just don’t understand the mentality of the bad guys.”

Scud looked like he was thinking, and you wanted to laugh, make a remark about how he didn’t do that too often, but you didn’t, giving him his space and letting your attention go to the mini heroes take down the Gangreen Gang. When it cut to commercial, his hands were still on his knees, eyes glued to the floor.

“Josh, you okay?”

The sound of his name got him. “Huh?”

You smiled. “Everything all right in La La Land?”

He sat up. “Yeah, just…thinking. I mean – what makes a bad guy, Y/N?”

“What?”

“You said before that Billy was the bad guy, but why?”

“Because he was killing innocent people.”

You were confused, Scud’s voice going up an octave as he gestured between you both.

“We’ve killed people, so what, are we bad guys too?”

“To some, I’m sure we are. It’s probably all a perspective thing.”

That didn’t satisfy him. “What’s your definition of a bad guy?”

You blinked at him, thinking on it. “Um, well, someone who doesn’t have the right moral structure. Where they’d think, how would all this benefit me, only fulfilling their own desires and no one else’s? Not caring how what they’re affects others. Someone who hides things, as well as themselves, like how the vampires hide from us, Eric’s always willing to face them head on, but they run away. That’s cowardice, that’s them not wanting to come to terms with all they’ve done or how they’ll pay for it.”

“I don’t want to die either.”

“You’re not going to die, Josh.”

“You’re saying it makes them evil to run away from getting killed. I’d run too.”

“Damn it, I’m trying – you know what, this shit is too deep this late at night. You got anything sweet?”

His face perked up a little then, mischief trying to creep back in his eyes. “Besides me? I got a few glazed in my room.”

You smiled. “Of course you do, you need to invest in some Oreos or something. Expand that addiction a little bit so some of us can piggyback on it.”

He laughed. “I’ll try to keep that in mind. So you want some?”

“No, but thank you, and thanks for dinner too. It was…nice. I needed it, but now I need a shower before I pass out.”

You don’t know why you did it, but the lack of sleep had kept some of your synapses from snapping together in time. But before you questioned it, you leaned over, hugging Scud. You felt him jerk in surprise, before cautiously wrapping an arm around you to hug back.

“For the record, I think you’re a pretty damn good guy, Josh. You can be annoying as hell, nerdy with a doughnut fetish that sometimes dresses like a young Corey Feldman, but good.”

You felt him laugh in your hair, and you couldn’t help the one that escaped you, his cheek coming to rest on your head.

“Fuck you too, Halfa girl.”

He hadn’t said it to be mean, only joking as he always did, but it was a reminder. The two of you different species, not meant to coexist except like this, only to take down the enemy, and your spirit dipped. You pulled away, avoiding his eyes.

“Goodnight Josh.”

“Night, Y/N.”

Closing your door, you began to strip, heading to the meager bathroom. But you were grateful for it, it was tiny, but it was yours and yours alone. After that pow wow, you couldn’t work anymore tonight, you just wanted to be clean and go to bed. The water was close to heaven, relaxing you, easing the tension from your body and you sighed in contentment. Watching the suds wash down the drain your mind went to Scud. You felt ashamed, you joked about it all the time, but you really wish he wasn’t here. He had a family somewhere, the opportunity to lead a normal life, but he chose to stay, and you couldn’t understand why. And with him at such a close proximity lead to moments like tonight, your brain betraying you, wandering around to what those hands could do when not playing with a blowtorch. A winding began to build in your stomach, and for a second you thought to ease it, but you pushed it down, exiting the shower. There was no point thinking those things. You lingered, enjoying the air on your skin. You ran the towel over your hair, starting to rummage for something to sleep in when your door was flung open.

“Hey, Y/N, you won’t believe it, I actually found…half a pack…of Oreos.”

His eyes widened, staring at you and your body, as you fell to the floor scrambling for the towel, blanket, anything to cover yourself with.

“Get out, Scuzzbucket!”

“I’m so sorry, I thought –“

“GET OUT!”

He turned, fumbling away, you slamming the door after him. You began to cry, he saw, your nudity revealing everything to him. The scars you hid, he saw, making you more of a freak than you already were. You avoided him after that, a feat in itself with the lack of hiding places in the warehouse. Lucky for you Eric had returned from wherever the hell he went.

“So you found him?”

His face remained stoic, but after the years around him you caught the miniscule slacking in his shoulders, sad, defeated. “He’s one of them.”

You tilted your head. “One of them?”

Giving you a hard, pointed look you understood. “Is there anything we can do?”

“I’m working on something, but if it comes down to it, we’ll have to put him out of that misery.”

You nodded, not wanting to think too much on that scenario. You cared about Abe, the same as you cared about Eric, the three of you making some bizarre blended family, taking you in off the streets after finding you drinking blood from stray animals. They had weaned you, adjusting the same serum Eric used, it never left you fully satisfied but you had come a long way from wandering dark corners of the city feeling like a schizophrenic. They studied you, for some reason Eric aged much quicker than you, it had been twenty years and you still looked as they found you at seventeen but Eric looked fully grown. The difference making all of you wonder, you were raised by your grandmother until she passed never revealing what had happened if it had been your mother or father that was killed, that was bitten, treating you as normal as she could though feeding you animal blood like chocolate milk. It had been so good to be found, to be understood, and not condemned for what you couldn’t help. And you didn’t want to lose one of those people who helped you feel like that.

“We’ll do whatever we have to.”

The abrupt words surprised him, nodding before heading towards the workshop.

“Mayday! Mayday! Guys! Please, I’m having problems here!”

You groaned rolling over in the mass of blankets, hearing what had to be Scud’s voice. Of course he was having problems, he himself was a problem. You chose to ignore him until you heard static crank from the CB.

“Someone, please, there might be four or five in pursuit! I don’t have enough UV bullets to take them! I need backup or I’m going to be a fuckin’ snack for the leeches!”

Jumping up, you pushed the covers away running to the radio. “Where are you?”

“Thank God, Y/N, I thought I was gonna be vampire chow.”

“Where the hell are you, Josh?”

He gave his location and grabbing all the weapons you could carry you went. You could fight, have had to fight, but if there were five you’d need some help. It wasn’t hard to locate him, finding his van, and a pile of ashes next to it, following the trail you found him at the dead end of an alley, UV gun thrust out.

“Back up, ya fuckin’ suckheads! You saw what I did to your friends, one pull and you’re ass is ash.”

They were distracted by Scud, enough so that you were able to extract the silver blade and embed it into one of the vampire’s hearts from behind. Pulling the blade out you watch the skin turn brittle and gray.

“Well, well, one of the half breeds has come out to play. Should’ve known when the blood bag came to us one of you would follow.”

Came to them? Scud had willfully looked for vampires? That wasn’t his game, he stayed within the confines of his van only acting as a decoy if Eric was nearby.

“Tell you what, half breed, you’re much better to look at than your mentor, we could both drain this waste, and you could come back with me. I can guarantee that you’ll have a better place in our ranks than where you are now.”

Your brain was still stuck on Scud looking for these fuckers, only when a hand was held out did you move. Plunging in the blade without a second thought, you watched the fledging fall to the ground, limp. You turned to Scud, expressionless.

“Is that all of them?”

He scratched the back of his head. “Yeah, thanks for coming to my rescue, Y/N. I owe you one.”

You clenched your jaw, anger surging, wiping the blade down you put it away, heading back for the van.

“Hey!”

You ignored him, hearing him jog to catch up to you, tugging you on the arm. “Will you wait a damn second?”

You did wait, long enough to turn to him and smack him to the ground.

“The fuck was that for, Y/N?”

“For being a fucking idiot! All this time you had the common sense to keep a distance and now you suddenly want to hunt for them on your own? You got that big of a death wish, Scud?”

He knew he fucked up, you never called him Scud. His shoulders came up to his ears, covering the flaming red tips, eyes not looking at you as he shifted foot to foot. He looked ashamed, like a little boy, something you didn’t think he was capable of.

“No, I needed to talk to you. You keep dodging me, Y/N, and I knew this would bring you out.”

“Are you fucking insane? What if I hadn’t been there to hear your distress call? You’d be fucking dead right now.”

“I knew you were there.”

“I was half asleep, what if I figured Eric would get you. Or if I downright ignored you, what if I thought it was a joke, or thought it was a dream, or what if I just didn’t care?”

He smiled sheepishly then. “Glad to know you do.”

Gif by abnormal-angelgifs

You huffed, ready to walk away again, when he held onto your wrist. “Please, Y/N, I can’t take this. You’re my only friend, I’m sorry I didn’t knock and shit. But I can’t deal with you ignoring me. You’re the one thing that makes me feel normal through all this.”

You laughed, the sound coming out as a mad cackle.

“Normal? Normal! You are fucking normal, Josh! I’m the one that’s abnormal! It was easy to pretend…then you go busting in like the idiot you are. Looking at me, seeing me, those...marks. I get it, we both know what I am, that I’m one of the monsters, but having you know that I’m weak. That I’m ugly underneath –“

“You’re no fucking monster, Y/N. And you’re sure as hell ain’t ugly. I’m not gonna listen to you talk about yourself like that.”

You exhaled, not believing him. “Get in the van so we can get back.”

You went to open the side door, Scud’s hands latching over the handle. He was too close.

“Move.”

He did, eyes watching face, flinching when you felt him touch your cheek. “You’re beautiful, all of you. The moment I saw you, when you were nursing me, I’d come in and out of consciousness waiting to see my angel, you.”

He’s so full of shit, push him away.

But you didn’t, couldn’t, feeling a tear slip out he caught it, brushing it away before letting his lips move over the spot.

“Maybe I’m the monster.”

“What –“

He slid opened the door, coaxing you into the van. He climbed in after you, hands going to the bottom of his shirt and yanking it off. You knew his scars intimately well, Eric dragging him in near death making you sew him up; they were a harsh pink, contrasting the pale skin, crisscrosses layered on one another, you winced wishing you had done a better job. They reached all the way up to his chest, as if the vampires were trying to rip him open, pull up his skin like someone opening an envelope. You reached out, letting your fingers trace over the lines, his eyes shut under your touch.

“You’re not a monster, Scud, and you’re not ugly or weak. You fought, you didn’t do this to yourself.”

“Josh.”

“Huh?”

“You always call me Josh. You’re the only one that does. I don’t want you to stop doing it.”

You snorted. “I don’t ALWAYS call you Josh.”

He smirked, and you were glad to see the cockiness coming back. “Fine, you always call me Josh except when you’re mad at me.”

You smiled, about to make your way to the front when you were pulled back down. “I care more about you then I’m willing to admit.”

You sighed, giving up, letting his hands stay on you, not surprised when his mouth slotted over yours, allowing yourself to kiss him harder, helping him remove your clothes. You were nervous, not sure how this was going to work. You knew this part, but after. You didn’t talk to Abe or Eric about this, mainly because you never were intimate with anything that wasn’t battery operated and you wondered if by some fate you could get knocked up. It didn’t seem likely, and you didn’t object when Scud pushed into you, your head lolling at the intrusion. He kept himself up on his elbows, shaggy hair tickling your face as he adjusted to the feel of you.

“Fuck.”

You laughed, pushing the hair out of his eyes. “Thought we were, Stud.”

He choked on a laugh, kissing you. Soon you were panting along with him, that friction building a fire in your stomach, but then you were clutching at him for different reasons. Too close. The smell of sweat beading on his body, the smell of hormones and testosterone peaking, the smell as his blood heated. You were cursing yourself for forgetting the serum, you were empty, hungry, and you needed to get away from Scud. You pushed at him, backing away from his pumping hips.

“Josh, stop! I can’t…there wasn’t time…I might bite you.”

He stopped, face dropping to your neck while his breath went in your ear.

“I’m sorry.”

He felt him shake his head. “Let me grab something.”

With one hand on your hip he leaned over to grab his pants, gathering his lighter and a switchblade.

“The fuck, Josh, you going to kill me about it?”

He smiled. “Nope. I know what you’ll say, but I have thought about this a few times, some occasions when my hand wasn’t down my pants but I want to do this for you.”

He was still inside you, his words and throbbing member adding you with extra warmth.

“You’ve thought about me taking blood from you?”

He shrugged, playing it off, but you saw the red come on his skin. He flicked open the blade, sanitizing it with the lighter, letting it cool as it glided on the skin of his chest, the smell of his blood hitting you like a car crash.

“Take it, Y/N, you can have it while I have you.”

You moaned, him leaning to kiss you, tongue moving against yours a few times, then moving so you had access to the wound. A part of you wanted to resist, Scud was your friend or something more complicated now, but you didn’t want to hurt him. Then again he was offering this to you. Scud started to thrust in harder, the blood gathering on the cut before dripping down on you. The smell could only be described as woodsy, it reminded you of trees after a hard rain, something savory, that you hadn’t known you had been craving. You let your tongue dart out, licking the cut, hearing Scud moan as you did, he picked up your hips signaling your legs to wrap around his waist as he drove in deeper. You lapped the blood, slurping at it, your walls flexing around him as he cradled your head to his chest. God, he was spicy, pungent, sweet, like cinnamon and sage, something that didn’t together but did. The aching inside your stomach was nearly filled, and you hung onto him, yanking his hair and guzzling him. Suddenly you felt a click inside of you, like a puzzle pieces being fitted together. Not long after Scud’s hips began to jerk spastically, his come coating your insides as his weight fell on top of you. He rolled on his side, catching his breath as those blue eyes looked at you.

“Sorry, Y/N.”

You smiled, completely relaxed for the first time in damn near ever. You turned to him, pulling off the bandana that was wrapped on his head to press on the cut. “And what do you got to be sorry for?”

He grunted, smiling as he struggled to keep his eyes opened exhausted from the blood loss and reeling from his orgasm. “A lot of shit, but right now, not getting you off.”

“Don’t worry about it; I’ll give you a retry if you want it.”

“Look forward to it; don’t think I won’t hold you to that shit.”

Rolling your eyes, you slapped his arm. “Alright Stud, get dressed I’m taking us home.”

Scud passed out as soon as he pulled his pants on, and the panic that you taking too much blood had you speeding to the warehouse. After cutting the engine you went to the back, slapping him gently to stir him. You were able to breathe again when his eyes cracked open, blue peeking out in the dark.

“Come on, Josh, I’ll help you to bed.”

You owed him that much, now that the fear was fading you took in how great you felt. Your body like a live wire, alert, awake, refreshed – you felt alive. And it was him, and what he gave.

“You’re taking some iron tablets tonight too. We got to build your blood back up.”

“’M fine.”

“Sure you are, Scuzz.”

You let him keep his weight on you, pretty much dragging him through the building.

“You’re back.”

Whirring around you saw Eric manning the monitors. “Yeah, Josh ran into some trouble. He might need a few days to rest, he lost some blood.”

“That you took.”

You felt the color drain from your face, the matter of fact way he said it, he knew. Eric always knew, and it was better to not lie about it.

“Yes.”

“This changes things.”

“What do you mean?”

Eric leaned his head down looking at Scud’s limp body. “You set him free.”

You forced a chuckle, not knowing where this was going. “I only took a little bit; I didn’t have any serum today.”

“He’s your familiar now.”

Your jaw drop, grip slacking on Josh as he fell face first to the floor. “Oh, shit, Josh I’m sorry.”

You heard him mutter something, but he was so out of it that it was unintelligible.

“He’s not…I mean I can’t, we can’t do that.”

Eric kept observing him, not helping you pick him up the dead weight. “Not to a regular vampire’s extent, he will not be your puppet by any means. But the previous one has been broken; your smell will be on him now unless you decide to take another.”

You remembered the clicking, the calm of things falling into place.

“But I don’t want him as a familiar, I was just – he belonged to someone else?”

Eric gave a rare smirk. “Don’t let jealousy get in the way; he was consensual with you, and for different reasons. His previous owner was to give him protection, but you –“

“I protect him now. Where do you think I was?”

“That’s why he chose you, because you chose him. He’ll feel the repercussions of the decision when he wakes.”

“I don’t understand, Eric.”

“Things he’s done, what he was supposed to do. Like I’ve said, it’s changed now, he’s free. He can choose where to go from here without being compelled by his vampire.”

“Y/N?”

Looking down, you saw Scud reaching for you, eyes so out of focus, that you felt guilty for not holding back.

“You won’t be able to compel him; he’ll have to face himself alone.”

You ran a hand through the messy strands, his cheek seeking out your touch.

“No, not alone.”

[Hope I did okay, I’m not sure how familiars are made in the marvel universe. To me it seemed like all the human had to do was pledge their allegiance and get inked, but I wanted something better so I House of Nighted it.]

Taggers!

@derpypenguin

#blade 2 #scud #josh #scud x reader #scud x you #reader insert #slight smut #blade #vampire #norman reedus #norman reedus characters #Joshua Scud Frohmeyer

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booksbwaybadflower · 7 years

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CURSED CHILD!!

One of the biggest queerbaits of 2016, but still a high-quality story before the Scene Which Must Not Be Named. This was honestly one of the best experiences of my life and I have to tell you guys about it, or at least type it all out before I forget the details (I mean, it took all day to see.)

Naturally, this will contain MAJOR spoilers for both the live show and the script (as well as the seven-book series), so read at your own risk! (I really can’t do this thing justice by writing it all out, either, so if you’re willing to die for a ticket, trust me, it’s worth it). There were signs everywhere around the theatre telling me to #keepthesecrets, but it was hard to be vague in some places. Trying my best not to be Wormtail. If you haven’t seen it, just don’t read this. :)

First things first, the LIGHTING. I am a slut for good lighting effects and this was no disappointment. Smoke machines to reveal beams of light, dry ice for the dream sequences, projections and colors and perfectly-placed spots, this show had everything. That, of course, paired with the fantastic backdrop, and it was breathtaking. The set consisted mainly of old-fashioned suitcases – doubling as gravestones, the top of the train, chairs, tables, columns, and more – and were so fun to see be taken offstage in unison.

The scene changes were choreographed! Along with the score that fit perfectly with the story (and wasn’t at all your classic, whimsical Harry Potter theme music, I might add, but much deeper and more intimidating), actors would swoosh their capes over the set piece they were about to take off IN TIME TO THE BEAT OF THE UNDERSCORE. And it was like a movie – music going in and out unnoticeably. Sadly there was no live orchestra, but the music cues were all exact. As for the choreography, anytime they wanted to either buy time or add intensity, the ensemble members came onstage with their cloaks to do twirls and jumps and bring the props in and out of the center all symmetrically, then the lights would snap on and everyone would snap to position almost as if it were a jumpcut in a movie. It was astounding.

Now, the effects. I have no idea how they did most of them! They held the time-turner between their hands – suspended in the air – but I’m pretty sure there were no strings, with the way they were tossing it around. Going into the Ministry of Magic, the actors turned around, walked into the telephone booth, and the thing SUCKED THEM INTO THE PHONE. I DON’T KNOW HOW. Despite watching for a trapdoor opening or SOMETHING, there may as well have been actual witches on that stage. Similarly, the polyjuice potion. Sure, they’d stick their head under their cloak and another head would come out, so it’s easy to assume that the second actor was under the cloak. But here’s the weird part – Delphi, for example, transformed into Hermione, then, once transformed, flung her cape over her shoulder and walked to the other side of the stage. No lump of another person. But the one where I actually muttered “no way” out loud to was when she and Scorpius-turned-Harry ran through a door stage right to escape from the voices of the real Harry and Hermione growing closer and closer, then the moment the door closed behind them, Harry and Hermione entered stage LEFT. This, my friends, is not possible. Either they both have identical twins, or there was actual teleportation happening on that stage. There was not enough time at all for them to slide through a trapdoor and take off their cloaks and return to the other side of the stage. I can’t stop thinking about that. And the DEMENTORS! I can’t believe how good they looked. Whatever material they used was perfectly flowey, and when they first came out at the end of Part I, one of them flew out into the audience and directly in front of where I was sitting. Chills, dude!

The invisibility cloak bit was cool – Albus and Scorpius duck under it and hide behind a bookshelf in the library, then McGonagall enters, trying to catch them. She looks around for a moment, and a chair shifts in front of her. Then another chair. Then a stack of books topples over. She pretends she doesn’t see anything (love her), and then Scorbus appears behind a different bookshelf. I’m literally so impressed.

The swimming during the second task reminded me of how The Little Mermaid did some of their swimming effects when travelling Broadway brought it a few months ago.

Every time someone used a time turner and landed at their destination, there was this ripple effect that effected the entire stage that I can’t describe in words. The whole audience went “whoaa” the first time it happened; we were all so convinced that the solid walls were wavering. Maybe it was lighting or something, but if it was, even staring at one stationary beam on the fly didn’t get me to see it. The illusion worked so well as an indication of time travel, especially with the underscore!

Now, it’s been a while since I read the screenplay, but as an actor I know that no one sticks exactly to the script when performing live. It’s hard to say how many of the added lines, directions, expressions, and pauses were character choices versus improvised today, but they all worked great. Specifically in Part II, when Scorpius comes back into reality from the hell dimension. He sings a few of his lines, and shouts a lot more lines than necessary, which leads me to…

When Scorpius doesn’t know what to do, he just screams. Some notable examples –

Scorpius is on the train alone, and Albus decides to sit with him. He offers him sweets. He screams.

Albus and Scorpius are trapped in Godric’s Hollow, 1981. Their parents travel back to find them. As soon as Albus sees his parents, he runs to them and hugs his father. Scorpius runs to his dad and then stops. He screams. (“We can hug too, if you like,” Draco says.)

Scorpius is getting emotional trying to explain to Delphi how much they’ve screwed up time. He screams. Then he quickly mutters “sorrysorrysorrysorrysorry.”

That’s the thing, too. He’s so unbelievably human. This actor has such a way of getting into this character’s head and making him three-dimensional that it’s brilliant. Not only does he quickly back off as soon as he finds himself shouting, he is jumpy and self-conscious and always unsure what to do with himself, trying so hard to win everyone’s approval. His hand gestures – especially in Part I – are awkward and fidgety, but as he gets to know Albus better and better, he relaxes around him and doesn’t shout so much. That might be what made the montage so sad, when they were forbidden to see each other. You watch Scorpius’s walls go back up. You watch him recede into his old, outcasted, eleven-year-old self. Hence my tearing up when Albus told him that he never believed the rumors about Scorpius being Voldemort’s child since he was so kindhearted. When Scorpius teared up (probably the first time he had gotten a genuine compliment like that), I did, too.

For some reason, Scorpius is oddly obsessed with Bathilda Bagshot. When they go to Godric’s Hollow, he sees her door there and exclaims that he recognizes it. She opens the door and walks past, where Scorpius then jumps up and down in excitement. “My geekiness is a-quivering!” Later, they need an ingredient from her house and he knows that she notoriously left her house unlocked. He tries the door. It opens. He quietly screams.

And the characters. Scorpius was of course my absolute favorite thanks to the brilliantly talented actor’s – Anthony Boyle’s – take on him, but Ron was the perfect comic relief. Young Harry was adorable and just how I imagined him in the books. Ginny was just like her mother, and Draco just like himself. Also the Sorting Hat was a fedora. I personally felt like Delphi was too flat of a character and therefore we do see her big plot twist coming a little bit, and I didn’t like that Harry shouted so much (sometimes it’s more fun to see an actor trying to fight an intense outbreak than exploding into one), but otherwise this was a very well-cast show. My favorite part of Ron’s character was his lack of a filter, in a sense. Whatever he was thinking, he said. While standing up and removing his coat, “I’d like to volunteer to be transfigured into Voldemort. I don’t know why I’m taking my coat off.”

And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for, my analysis on how gay this particular performance was! As we all know, the lines in themselves are very cute (“Hi, Scorpius. No, I mean I’m Scorpius. You’re Albus. Scorpius.” “If I had to choose a companion to watch the return of eternal darkness with, I’d choose you.” “Always.”), but there were little things, too. Like Amos pointing his wand at Albus to threaten him, and Scorpius instinctively putting his arm in the line of fire should he try to curse him. All of the hugs were balancing the line between awkward and sentimental. There was even a little nose boop during the Scene Which Must Not Be Named. The flirtiest part, though, was definitely in the bathroom with Moaning Myrtle. “Engorgio,” Albus commands a piece of soap, which then magically grows. “Consider me engorg-impressed,” says Scorpius before turning around and walking out, covering his face with his hands. Tell me that’s not a really bad pickup line he’s embarrassed that he actually said.

It’s just odd how much of the show is read differently than it was performed. I read Scorpius to be this shy, insecure kid, but Anthony Boyle played him to be constantly embarrassed by himself and shouting nearly everything he says, then regretting it. The scene I sobbed the most at while reading – Hagrid finding baby Harry – was played comically live. The scene I found the most hard to read – Harry seeing his parents die (and every other character’s reaction) – was the most heartbreaking live. I am literally blessed to have been able to see the difference between stage and script (and meet the actors at the stage door!!) and it was worth every pound.

#it's now 3am here and i'm going to hate myself in the morning #harry potter and the cursed child #cursed child #scorbus #scorpius malfoy #albus potter #harry potter #spoilers #harry potter spoilers #cursed child spoilers #long post #a dramatic reading by cassidy #cassidy's nerdisms

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librarified2004 · 7 years

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Here we go again...

This looked like fun. Hijacked from the amazing @the-random-fandom-one, so the actual title of this should be “@dammittmarie, you made me do another survey!” Reblog with your answers! I want to get more communication going in the writing community here. Answer one, answer some! Answer whatever you want to! 1. What was the first character you ever created? I’ve been writing stories since I could pick up a writing utensil. I think the first character I ever really put a ton of thought into, though, was this character I played in an MMORPG during undergrad. Her name was Lindarian, and her past was tragic: the half-elven child of an illegal union between a mortal and an elf princess, she was basically raised in seclusion only to watch her three older half-brothers and her parents be brutally murdered on her eighteenth birthday. Man, even before I knew what fanfiction was, I knew how to whump a character.

2. Is there a specific thing that made you want to start writing more? The MMORPG I played as an undergrad and grad student went down for good in about 2005, and after that, I stopped writing stories because there was no reason, really, to further develop that character. I got a job and started doing some professional writing--blogs and reviews and that kind of thing. Then I reconnected with an old friend who had written an entire book, and he started pushing me to do fiction again. I played around with some ideas, even published a short story, before I discovered fanfiction through a professional development class that I had to take. I can’t go back to school for my MFA in creative writing at this point, but I think writing fanfic is saving my sanity as well as giving me a sort of ad hoc, DIY MFA where I work at my own pace and set my own curriculum. Plus, some days it really saves my sanity. In the wise words of Lin-Manuel Miranda, I can pick up a pen and write my own deliverance.

3. Favorite character you’ve ever created? In the short story I published, “Swan Song,” I had this side character who existed simply to be my villain. I didn’t pay him much attention until very late in the creative process, when the editor said the big reveal was too abrupt. (He was right.) So I took that character out to coffee--literally, I took my laptop and a notebook to my favorite coffee place so I could have a distraction-free conversation with him--lit him a smoke (funny thing, I don’t smoke, but literally everyone in that story does and my smoker friends say I got that exactly right), and really, for the first time, tried to get to know him. I knew only the basics, but it turned out he had this whole past (tragic) and motivations that I’d never even seen. Knowing all this didn’t just change the reveal, it pivoted the entire story, and when I sat down to rework that reveal, the words just poured out. It turned out that he was rather an anti-villain and he ended up in an awesome place--if I ever write a sequel to that story, it will be his to tell. Nik, the villain of “Swan Song,” is my favorite because he taught me to look deeper, love harder, and never have a character unless you’ve taken the time to know them all the way down to their shoe size.

4. Do your stories tend to have only a few characters or a lot?

As few as possible. In fact, I kind of freak out a little bit when I realize I need another character to serve some purpose.

5. Do you sit down and plan out your worlds or just let them build themselves as you write?

Some of both, really. I tend to write a lot of fanfiction exchanges (or at least, that’s what gets published), and I always do a thorough canon review before I start plotting so I can get voices and world-building details right. My one published original short story is set in Moscow during WWII, and I did a bunch of research on that setting and time period before I went in, but I never really tried to force anything to fit. Interestingly, during revisions, I was able to go back and add date stamps to certain plot points based on my historical research. But that story also has a magic twist to it (it was for a fantasy anthology) and the magic part just came to me, no building required.

6. Do you ever meet people and want to write about them? Fictional characters, all the time. I love writing missing scenes. I don’t put much of real-life people into my characters (but I totally could--I work in a public library. Public libraries are literally the last remaining free resource in this country and my job is madness.)

7. What kind of environment do you do most of your writing in? Music or no music? Loud or quiet? In private or wherever? Depends on the day and the story. I have a novel in progress (which will never be finished, probably) and for that I have entire playlists of music for each character. But if there’s music, there can’t be words in a language I can understand, because I will end up singing along. No TV or movies, because I end up watching instead of writing. I like my backyard, and even better, my parents’ backyard. But when all else really fails, I’ll jot out whatever in the notes on my phone. I’m picky, but not picky at all. And if I’m on deadline, I will make that deadline come hell or high water or plague or fire or mass destruction.

8. Do the people in your life ever read what you write, or do you tend to not show them? Not fanfiction. I’m very, very protective of my writing in general. My mom was an English teacher (in fact, she was MY English teacher in tenth grade), and even when I was an undergrad getting my B.A. in English comp, she read all my essays with a red pen (after they’d been graded--and I graduated with a 4.0 in my major!). When I published my original short, she was so proud--and then she pointed out a glaring continuity mistake I had missed in about nine million rounds of editing. When I read my own stuff, I only see the mistakes, so I’m also shy about showing it to anyone else. That said, I have about a million partial fics rotting on my hard drive, phone notes, and Google docs, so someone might want to go after them if I ever shuffle off this mortal coil.

9. What inspires you? Oh my, so much. Music, other people’s stories, history, walks in the woods, the way the lights in the children’s room at the library change color. Literally everything. Probably the better question is who pushes me, and the answer to that is @dammittmarie, who got me into the school’s Dead Poets Society in undergrad (we met at midnight in the basement of the library and damn, we were cool) and the beautiful @rain-and-roses-in-the-city, who puts up with my crazy ideas, my headcanons, lets me play in her sandbox, and sometimes has even seen the partial stories I talked about earlier.

10. What’s the weirdest character you’ve ever created? Don’t really have one.

11. What’s the most boring character you’ve ever created? All of them, it feels like sometimes :)

12. Do you name your background characters? Do you even have them? I learned a hard lesson about knowing my characters, so now, if I can’t flesh them out, they don’t appear.

13. Are you one of the writers who writes in symbolism and specifically thinks about things like the color of a hat or that kind of thing? Or do you just pick those things at random? Sometimes. Not always.

14. Are there any authors you feel have influenced your style? Published authors, fanfic authors, ect. I learn things from everywhere. My gold standard for plot twists is the end of Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, which made me screech out loud on an airplane years ago. I think the Hamilton fandom in particular is full of talent, and the WhamFam especially (you know who you are). And going back to @dammittmarie, she’s the one who made me unashamed of being a whump writer.

15. Were you a story teller before you could write? Yes! I devoured books as a kid, and handwriting came super hard to me. You couldn’t read my penmanship until I was in junior high, so I learned storytelling in the oral tradition first.

16. How many characters have you created? Not too many. I tend not to write OCs in fanfiction for fear of them coming out like total, obvious Mary Sues. There are maybe a dozen characters in “Swan Song.”

17. Do your stories tend to take place in the real world or in a fantasy world? Both? Neither?

That depends on the story

18. Do you tend to set your stories in the present or the past or the future? Do you think about when it’s set or does that not factor into the story?

Whatever works on a given day for a given story, I guess. I love, love, love the canon era of Hamilton, but I also like modern AUs if they’re done well. So yeah, whatever works.

19. What kind of things do you like to write? Poetry? Short stories? Novels? Fanfiction? Children’s Books? Nonfiction? Something else entirely? Fan fiction for pleasure. My professional life includes writing book reviews, blog posts on various topics, and newsletters, so fan fiction is escapism for me.

20. Do you like to do events like NaNoWriMo or the Three Day Novel, or do you prefer to do things at your own pace? Yes and no. In my professional life, I’m a volunteer blogger and reviewer on top of the demands of my day job, so I’m almost always on deadline for something. (Right this second is actually an exception--I wrote two articles this weekend and I’m deadline-free until at least April 1.) I tend to write fan fiction at my own (snail on a strong sedative’s) pace, but I have signed up for NaNoWriMo a few times, and I might do Camp NaNo in April because I have a 5k exchange piece due at the end of the month. And the one piece that I’ve published that wasn’t fan fiction actually got finished because I went to a signing where there were like six people and ended up pouring my heart out to this poor author. I told her I had a story and no idea how to start, and she told me to write 100 words a day for 100 days and tweet her my word count every day. If I missed a day, I had to start over. I made it to 100 days, just over 11,000 words, and that piece is good--you can even buy it on Amazon.

#survey #dammittmarie #writer confession

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