#the steering wheel scene literally ended me
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Bro, the noise I just made. I literally cannot stand the fanon for Stiles or Derek. It is so so soooo bad, I think these people literally have only seen the 2 hour sterek compilation. Every day I am like "who fucking told you people that Derek never smiles and has no sense of humor?"
Stiles gets turned into this big eyed, kitten twink who wouldn't dare to misbehave because he's the sheriff's son (the kid who gets drunk in the WOODS, and gets his dad drunk so he can steal casefiles!!)
Derek like... He is either completely useless and cannot dress himself for a date without fanon!Laura (do not get me started) telling him what to do, or he is so emotionally repressed and damage that he can barely handle someone kissing him without him falling to pieces.
LIKE. Derek smiles. Derek makes jokes!! Derek laughed at Stiles right before the pool scene. Derek knows how to use a cellphone and a laptop. Derek is a goddamn millenial, he knows what grumpy cat is. He knows he's hot, he has a mirror!!
Also... the man lived in New York fucking City. He's not afraid of crowds or talking to people or making out, he uses sex to get his way (Erica and the deputy at the front desk!!)
i know.
like, there's a period of fics that are usually from the s1-2 period that lean pretty hard on derek's dark, brooding and grumpiness from season 1 but of course he was like that. he was going through The Horrors during season 1. he was grieving laura, he was being retraumatized by kate and dealing with scott, stiles and fucking jackson.
he wasn't one dimensional though. his anger was a mask for all the fear, confusion and trying to be in control.
do you know how many fics i've read where people have stiles think about all the apparent physical violence derek has done to stiles as if he's always slamming him into surfaces? way too many to count and it's incorrect. off the top of my head i can count 3 times derek did something like that to stiles. the shove into the wall and slam into the steering wheel in wolf's bane both of which had a point to them. whether or not it was a good emotional response doesn't matter. what matters is that they were not random or part of derek's personality. he didn't just shove stiles into things every time he saw him. the wall shove in s4 with de-aged derek was a deliberate call back to that very instance in wolf's bane. it was literally coupled with the whole cousin miguel bit.
fandom doesn't like to acknowledge that derek hale isn't particularly violent over the course of the show. he hardly even wins the fights he engages in and he is often forced into fights knowing he cannot win.
our boy mostly ends up on the fucking floor.
derek also does make jokes. dry ones usually he thinks they are hilarious too. he thinks he's a funny guy. his dad joke game must've been off the charts, sorry eli.
he and stiles trade barbs a lot and he thinks stiles is funny. stiles amuses him and he indulges it a few times. he shows off to stiles too like a loser.
he likes to fuck with scott and stiles and enjoys taking the piss out of peter. he genuinely enjoyed fucking with liam in s4.
he's not a luddite either. he has a cellphone and we see him use it. i bet he plays games on it. i bet he plays candy crush and words with friends.
and fanon evolved to strip away that stiles is an asshole. he a violent little freak. he threatens people, he expresses regularly his desire to kill people or have them die, he cares about a very small selection of people in his life and if you're not in that circle than god be with your ass because stiles most definitely won't.
he loves and respects his father but this doesn't mean stiles respects the law which is why i don't know why the law enforcement route was chosen for him. stiles hates rules and boundaries. he chafes at them.
stiles casually helps kira and scott break into evidence to get her cell phone. he tells scott's fbi agent father to fuck himself. he got his dad drunk to get access to case files. he copies people's keys. he's a nosy shit.
the whole show started because stiles was a nosy punk kid who wanted to see a dead body.
but i digress.
fanon stiles had a lot of scott's characteristics projected onto him so they could bash scott. i know there's a lot of people who don't like scott which is fine or whatever but there are so many that do it so they can make a pinata out of a character they've extracted all the good points from and give to their favorite little white boy fav.
stiles "i will beat you with a bat" stilinski is a freaky little shit who will bite you.
do you know how hard i laughed when in s3 stiles and isaac genuinely just like could not stand each other? they couldn't be in the same room with out insulting one another and it was the complete opposite of stiles being oh so sensitive to isaac's past and history than straight up in 3b stiles the epitome of insensitive says to isaac something about still milking it (his abuse). stiles is a dick.
i also genuinely have umbrage with the pack mom trope that stiles gets saddled with. the way fandom has oft feminized stiles leaves a bad taste in my mouth too.
derek and stiles are both assholes and i love them very much.
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I over analysed the S2 teaser trailer
I need help 🫠 I'm literally watching this teaser video over and over again, frame by frame, just to get as much out of it as possible.
Here's a few things I want to point out.
So we see her walking up to a car here and talking to a guy:
The car is a blue Ute and has a black steering wheel
The guy in the car has a checkered jacket on and a beard
She is visibly carrying a cross bow and a bag, and probably a pistol and knife not in the frame.
She is wearing gloves and a beige shirt under her jacket
Then at the end of the teaser we get these shots:
She is in a different car, with a beige steering wheel, which is possibly a hatchback from the look of the back window.
She is now holding a much larger gun, possibly the rifle we saw melissa holding in the set photos from France that came out a few months ago (photo's at the end of the post).
The man next to her is now wearing a brown jacket.
She is now wearing a more olive coloured shirt, which also looks like what she's wearing in the set photos we saw of her in France.
Through the mirror we can see a dead or drying guy in the back seat who looks a little like the guy that was driving the Ute at the start of the teaser.
Looking at all this I'm starting to think that the later shots are of her in France. but the question now is, what's happening to the zombies around the car? Who's killing them? Could it be Daryl & the people from the nest that we see in the photos below?
Daryl is wearing a cross body bag and a black coat we haven't seen on the show yet, and it looks like what he was wearing in the S2 set photos of him and Melissa together (below).
And here's me actually grasping at straws even more:
It look like they're moving through a warehouse/industrial building, and the shot of carol in the new car looks to be in an industrial area as well.
Can these shots be at the same spot in France? maybe at the port? is this going to be the scene where they reunite?!
Someone please tell me to stop looking at this over and over again and over thinking everything 😅 and feel free to add things that you've noticed and I've missed.
Set photos I've been referring to:
!! UPDATE THERE'S MORE !!
There's more content to support the reunion theory.
The lovely and incredibly observant @Lightenerrthang & @vicneedscoffeee on Twitter also pointed out that the blood splatter on her face in this shot from the teaser matches the blood splatter from this bts photo.
And that bts photo was from the same time as the bts video below where norman is covered in blood!!
Here's the link to the bts video of Norman
Here's the link to the thread on twitter
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Dad!Eddie Munson Headcanons
Eddie Munson Masterlist
He’s definitely one of those heavy metal dads that would insist you name, at the least, your first child after a rockstar.
“We’ll name the kid after James Hetfield.” “What if it’s a girl?” “Then we’ll name her Jamie. Duh.”
He’s also one of those dads that would pay very close attention to what way his child steered the tiny steering wheel on the car shaped shopping carts at the grocery store and would turn the cart whatever way they turned the wheel.
“This kid needs some driving lessons, babe.” “Eddie he/she is four.” “Yeah, so?” “Oh my god.”
Would definitely insist that your house be full of instruments for your kids to learn as they grow up.
By the time your first kid is 11 you have just about every instrument in the world in the study that Eddie had insisted be the music room.
Would definitely be the type of dad to get his kid's names/initials/birthday/favorite toys tattooed on any part of his body. He waits to get their names until they learn how to write them, and then gets their signatures tattooed on him, no matter how sloppy the handwriting.
He'd come home with the biggest, goofiest grin with plastic wrap and ointment protecting irritated skin, your kid's smile would match his as he had them read the new tattoo, having trouble since it was through the wrap and the ointment.
"DADA! THAT'S ME!" They would shriek, jumping up and down and throwing themself at him, which would encourage the others to follow, all of them ending up in a dog pile on top of their father.
If your kids like to draw, he'd sit with them for hours, hunched over on the floor and doodling with crayons. When your youngest drew a picture of your family, he'd nearly fell on top of your eldest as he ran to the door, picture clutched in hand as he tugged his jacket and vest combo on, sprinting to the van with a shout of "I'll be back soon" over his shoulder.
He'd come back not too long later, the drawing now tattooed into the skin of the shoulder he'd yelled over, tugging his shirt off as he walked in the door to show his beautiful family the purposefully sloppy drawing.
You'd teared up as you compared the tattoo to the drawing, an absolutely perfect recreation, color included, accompanying the black and other splashes of color that littered his skin, at this point he was almost completely covered.
Explaining his scars was easier over time, though the first couple times you'd had to explain it yourself, Eddie eventually decided, when your middle child of five asked, that he could tell the story, and he told an intricate but simple enough story that the kids would understand each time, dumbing it down a bit depending on how old they were when they noticed and asked.
"I was protecting Mommy and Uncle Dusty." He'd boasted when your youngest asked, your four others sitting close to listen to the tale they loved so much. "We were just out in the woods." A lie, of course, but you'd decided to wait way longer before telling them the truth about your hometown, you'd moved after Eddie graduated, settling down in Chicago since it had a good music scene and Eddie wanted to pursue that.
"And we passed by this cave, and all of a sudden..." Eddie was a great story teller, always had been, during suspenseful moments he would hunch his shoulders and lean in, urging your children to do the same, and you recognized that sadistic smirk spread across his face. "WHOOSH!" He held your youngest and shook them lightly, causing them to squeal and laugh, your others jumping and laughing with him/her at their father's outburst.
"A hundred bats came flying out of the cave! And I, being a gentleman-" "What's a genital man?" "You can say genital man but not spaghetti?" Eddie looked at your youngest in actual awe before looking at you. "What have you been teaching our children?" "They are literally with you all day, Eddie. Finish your story."
"A gentleman," he emphasized the word. "Is.. uh... I'll explain it later." "Mhm." "Shh." He waved his hand at you and continued his story. "I pushed Mommy out of the way, and I made Uncle Dustin get her away, and I tried to fight them off." "When he could've just run with us." Eddie gave you a stern look before continuing. "And... they got the best of me, and knocked me down, took a few nasty chunks before Mommy and Uncle Dusty came back and fought them off."
Would never be late for pick up, whether it be daycare, soccer practice, cheerleading practice. Whatever your kids are doing, Eddie is there for support, and early to pick them up if he can't be there the whole time.
He'd be the type of dad to wake up and see your kids trying to collectively hoist their youngest sibling up to the fridge to grab the cookie jar and would end up getting the cookies for them and taking one. "What do you think you're doing?" "Uh... Axl wanted a cookie." "Don't blame me!" "Well I didn't whisper 'who wants a cookie?' while the rest of us were trying to sleep" "Well it wasn't me either!"
"Okay. Okay. You're all very bad at whispering, put down your brother/sister." They would begrudgingly do so, perking up when he brought the cookie jar down and gave them each two, holding a finger to his lips before putting one between his teeth, putting the jar back. "Now go to bed." "Thanks, dad." "thank you, dad." "thanks, daddy." "ank you, dada." "tank ou, daddy."
Be still his beating heart. He'd go back to bed, and you'd wake up to the movement. "Is that a cookie?" "Yeah. Want some?" "mmm thank you." You take a bite of the cookie before laying your head down. "Did I hear the kids trying to sneak cookies?"
A few solid beats of silence accompanied by Eddie chewing the cookie. "..... no."
#stranger things#eddie munson#joseph quinn#eddie munson’s rings#eddie the banished#eddie the freak munson#stranger things 4#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x reader#Eddie munson x female reader#dad Eddie munson#mommy reader#Eddie munson Headcanons#dad eddie munson Headcanons
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RIDE OR DIE (THE PRESIDENT'S DAUGHTER)
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sons of Anarchy. All rights go to Kurt Sutter, FX and any others that made this amazing show possible. I do, however, own my character, Letitia Morrow, and any other OCs I might add in the future, along with their backstories and their storylines within the show.
GRAPHICS: I MAKE the gifs that are used throughout this book. On occasion I will use gifs I find on google, which I will clarify. Any gifs I haven't made, all rights of those should go to the rightful creators. I also DO the aesthetics, covers, tags and trailers that are made. Please do not steal them. HOWEVER most of the images you see in this book are made by A.I imaging unless stated otherwise.
WARNING (Mature Audience Only)⚠️: violence, murder, gore, coarse language, mental health issues, domestic violence, drug and alcohol use, and detailed sex scenes will appear in this book. If any of these are a trigger for you, please take caution if you decide to continue.
[ RIDE OR DIE! ]
Prologue
A Trunk Full of Problems
[Pre-Season One]
" There are two sides to my daughter; the angelic side of her mother and the devious side of me. And you never know which side you're gonna get from one moment to the next. She can switch just like that. "
~ CLAY MORROW to JUICE ORTIZ
☆《》¤
CAST
Emmy Rossum as Letitia Morrow
Penn Badgley as Lewis Mckenna
☆《》¤
TRIGGER WARNING⚠️: Mentions of domestic abuse, a shooting, minor gore and some coarse language.
☆《》¤
LETTY'S CAR
☆《》¤
LETTY'S OUTFIT
☆《》¤
LETTY'S TATTOOS
☆《》¤
A TWENTY ONE YEAR OLD LETITIA MORROW sped down the highway so fast if she took a wide corner her car would most likely turn over. Apart of her was dreading seeing the 'Welcome to Charming' sign. Letty or Lett, as she was called by many of the small town's residences, speed increased, while tears streamed down her beaten and bruised face. A dark purplish bruise hung under her left eye, her bright cherry lips had grown two sizes too big, as blood oozed out of the corner of her mouth.
Pressing her foot down on the gas, made her engine let out a loud roar, as a sob escaped her lips when she aggressively rubbed her blood stained hands onto her ripped jeans. Her tears continued to flow like a tap, as the memories of the night prior flashed through her mind like an old movie projector.
A blood curdling scream echoed in her ears, as she gasped, her eyes shot wide open at the sight of a car inches away from colliding with her front bumper, their bright head lights shinning into her eyes, almost blinding the brunette.
Her shaky hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, as she turned it, managing to dodge the oncoming car without damaging her beautiful mustang - Thank God or her dad would have killed her.
The car was in fact her baby. She received him on her sixteenth birthday from her father, who just so happened to be the President of Samcro, Clay Morrow.
Her father and her had a complicated relationship, childhood worth of resentment hung heavy for Letty, and she was just as stubborn as him, so any chance she got, she liked to remind him how much he wasn't there for her growing up. Sometimes they were too similar, because of this, they constantly butted heads. But at the end of the day they loved each other deeply and were very protective over one another - they would quite literally kill for each other.
Admittedly, it had been a few years since Letty had been back to Charming, she had moved pretty quickly after she graduated from high school, not wanting to end up some Sons' old lady like Gemma. God, she loved that woman like a mother, but she did not want to turn out like her.
Gemma and Letty had a close relationship. Letty's mother died in 1987 during an emergency c-section. And when her father married Gemma, she became mum to her, as she had helped raise her pretty much since birth, making her the woman she is today.
Gemma was the one person Letty was worried to see, as she headed towards the club house. After she left, they had talked on the phone a few times here and there, but it wasn't the same. Gemma didn't fully support her leaving town, so she wasn't excited about the lecture she would mostly definitely receive when they came face to face again after three years.
Her eyes travelled to the back seat of her car at the many bags she stuffed inside, knowing she couldn't return to her house in Los Angeles, not after what happened the night prior with her boyfriend of three years, who she met during her freshman year of college, where she went onto complete a diploma in nursing.
That was probably the hardest thing about her decision to race back home to Charming, having to quit a job she loved with people she loved. But she was sure she'd be able to pick up a nursing job at the hospital easy, as they always seem to be short staffed.
As she passed the out dated 'Welcome to Charming' sign, which hadn't been updated since she was born, maybe even longer, a cold chill ran down her spine. She wonder what the small town of Charming would have in stall for this next chapter of her life. Because one thing was for sure, Charming was never boring, there was always something happening, whether it was good or bad that was up for interpretation.
Sure, she was happy to see her old friends and family. There was Jax and Opie, who were like her older brothers growing up. Before she had left she got pretty close with Opie's wife Donna, while Opie was inside. Donna actually helped Letty look for colleges far away from Charming and Samcro, thinking if she couldn't get out of the crippling town herself and away from the toxicity of the club, she'd want someone to, who else more deserving than the sweetheart that was Letty Morrow.
She'd love to see all the boys again. Chibs, Bobby, Tig and Piney were all in the waiting room of the maternity ward when Letita Loraine Morrow was brought into this world. They all actually got kicked out for smoking a couple fat cigars. A story that was continuously told throughout her life, the boys thought it was pretty funny, mainly trying to shine some light on the day they lost a good woman, Loraine Morrow, the most caring woman you'd ever meet, a trait her daughter inherited.
Letty was close with them all, but Chibs was like a second father to her, so even when her dad wasn't around much when she was a kid, Chibs was there to fill that emptiness in her heart.
Piney was someone she loved to call her crazy grandpa, she had actually went to calling him Pops or Poppy at a young age.
And Bobby and Tig were like her eccentrically crazy uncles that would willingly get her plastered, partying right into the night together - she loved them to death.
As Letty finally pulled into Teller-Morrow Automotive Repair Shop, that was used as a front for their motorcycle club's dealings, she gave herself a small pep talk inside her head, 'It's going to be okay. Sure, you haven't seen most of these people in years, but you got this. It'll be fine'. In fact, she was so deep in her own thoughts and still pretty hysterical, that she didn't realise how far she actually drove into the large compound and before she knew it...BANG!
☆《》¤
A loud CRASH! Followed by a continuous horn caught the Sons' attention from inside the Chapel. Like any other day, the boys sat around the table discussing current business, before they were oh-so-rudely interrupted.
Instantly, they were all on their feet, their senses on high alert, because when you were apart of a motorcycle club that did questionable dealings, you should always expect the worst. Each member had a hand clamped around their gun that sat on their hips; ready to draw it if need be.
Clay Morrow held up a hand, signalling from them all to stay put. Placing a finger to his lips, he motioned with his head for them to quietly follow him outside.
Making it outside and around the back of the large compound, they all noticed the familiar red mustang, which had clearly crashed into the garage sliding door.
"Jesus Christ!" Clay hissed under his breath, running hand through his white-blonde hair, as he released his grip from his glock. Jax Teller, Chibs Telford, Bobby Munson, Piney Winston, Tig Trager and Opie Winston, followed suit, relaxing slightly. Although, both Juice Ortiz and Half-Sack Epps were still clearly on high alert - what the hell was going on?
Concern and worry had washed over the older members' faces, Clay being the first one to rush over to the car. But all of them sighed in relief when the driver's side door opened and a girl with long, brown, curly hair stepped out of the vehicle. Juice and Half-sack had held back; having no idea what was happening.
"Daddy!" Letty immediately broke down at the sight of her father, instantly running into his arms and soaking his chest with tears, as she sobbed. And as Juice watched the scene unfold, he felt a small pang in his heart for the poor girl.
Clay pulled back, holding the woman at arms length, as he cupped her beautiful face. And once Juice finally got a good look at her features, his jaw almost hit the floor. She was hot. No, not hot...Gorgeous. He honestly thought she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his whole life. And he had been with his fair share of beautiful women, but not one of them held a candle to Letty Morrow.
"Honey, what happened--?" Clay started to ask, before his face fell, noticing the state she was in and the bruises that scattered her entire body, not just her face. "Did he beat you again?" Clay's whole face turned murderous, as he tightly gripped his daughter's shoulders, which made her wince in pain.
All the girl managed was a nod of her head, which only angered Clay more.
"I'm gonna fucking kill him!" the man clenched his fists, as he started to storm towards his bike, but Letty was quick to grab his arm.
"No! You're not going anywhere," she declared, sending her father a stern look.
Yanking his arm back, he glared at his only daughter, "Don't tell me what I'm gonna fucking do. He put his hands on you, baby!"
"I understand that," she said, matching his tone. If the situation wasn't so serious the boys would of had a laugh at how quickly father and daughter had started arguing. It was always said, 'You can't have Clay and Letty in the same room for too long or a storm would brew'.
Clay went to open his mouth to argue once again, but Letty cut him off and continued with what she was saying, "That's why I took care of it," she said in a tone of voice that gave nothing away, her face even remained solemn, so you couldn't even read her facial expressions to guess what she meant by that statement.
Clay furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "What does that even mean?" he slightly snapped, throwing his hands up in frustration.
"I came here because I need your help," she stated, making her way over to her car, Clay and the boys followed after her as she started to unlock her boot. Pulling the door open, the boys leaned over to look inside and their eyes widened at the sight of a man all tied up with a gun shot wound on his lower region, his blood staining the lining of the boot.
"You stupid fucking bitch!" Lewis Mckenna hissed, glaring bloody murder at his girlfriend of three years, as he thrusted around, trying to get free from the tight binds. "You actually fucking shot me! Oh, my God, you shot me in the dick!" he cried, looking down at his wounded genitals that oozed with blood.
While amusement was clear on the older members' faces, Juice and Half-Sack were watching on, completely confused, but also very intrigued, watching this all play out like it was a brand new movie at the cinemas. All they were missing was popcorn.
"And I should of done worse, you fucking cock sucker!" she sneered, shooting daggers with her eyes at her latest ex-boyfriend.
A growl sounded from the back of Lewis' throat, as his glared up at her hatefully, "I'm going to fucking kill, you crazy bitch--!"
The guy's threat was cut short by an elbow to the face, knocking him out cold, "That's enough out of," Jax smirked, owner of said elbow, earning him a chuckle from the girl that was basically his sister, they gave each other enough wedgies growing up to justify that.
"As you can see..." she said to her father, putting on her best, 'I'm sweet and innocent' look "...I fucked up."
"Yeah, you should of went for the head," Clay hissed, looking at the man in complete disgust, like he was the piece of gum under his shoe.
"I thought it showed creativity," Letty pouted like a five year old who was just refused ice cream for dinner, crossing her arms over her chest. "So sue me," she shrugged nonchalantly.
"I thought it was pretty creative, darlin'," Tig stated with that somewhat sinister smirk of his. "Take away a man's equipment -Worse and most painful punishment there is."
"Thanks, Tigga," she said, sending the man a kind smile. Her nickname for Tig came from when she was a toddler and just learning to say a few words here and there, so when Tig tried to teach her his name or his nickname, she kept just getting excited repeatedly yelling her favourite cartoon character's name and the nickname just stuck ever since.
Clay shot his Sergeant in Arms a glare, "Don't encourage her," he scolded.
Tig raised his hands in mock-surrender, "Hey! She's your daughter."
Clay's glare sharpened at his words, making him take a step back, his hands still raised, "That's all I'm saying."
"Letty?!" the voice of Gemma Teller-Morrow sounded from behind the girl. The woman had stepped out of the office to investigate what the commotion was all about, she didn't recognise the woman at first, squinting her eyes, as she blocked out the sun's UV rays with her hand. And that's when she saw it, the face she hadn't seen in nearly three whole years. One she'd recognise from a mile away.
Letty was quick to whip her head around and a smile immediately graced her face as she spotted Gemma striding over to her in a quick pace.
"Well, well, well, look at what the cat dragged in," chuckled Gemma, as she reached the girl, looking at her fondly.
"Gemma," Letty beamed, bringing the woman into a hug.
"Gemma?" the woman frowned in confusion as they parted. "What happened to Mum?" she questioned, tilting her head to the side, as she raised an eyebrow, staring the girl down. "Been gone too long, you forgot who raised your skinny ass," she teased, cupping the girl's chin as she gave her face a playful shake. "Huh?"
Letty chuckled, shaking her head amusingly, "Never."
Gemma smiled, wrapping her arm around her step-daughter's shoulders, before leading her back over to her car and examined the contents of her boot, a hum leaving her lips, "This is the boyfriend I'm guessing?"
"Ex-boyfriend," Letty corrected.
"Well, they can't say you don't know how to make an entrance."
"Well, you know..." she said, shrugging nonchalantly. "I gotta keep the old man on his toes," she said, flashing her father a cheeky smirk, as she sent him a wink, earning a playful glare in response.
Gemma let out a loud chuckle, snapping her head back in amusement, "Well, what do you say, why don't we leave the boys to clean up this mess you created, and you and I grab a cuppa and catch up?" she asked, as she started to guide the girl back over to her father's office. "It's been so long. I've missed you around here, baby!" Gemma beamed happily, as she rubbed her shoulders - glad her daughter was back.
"Yeah, I've missed you guys, too," Letty said, and it was true, she did. She never wanted to leave the people. She wanted to leave the club and small town life behind.
Meanwhile, Juice was in a hypnotic state, his eyes watching Letty closely as she walked away, he was practically drooling over her, "She's beautiful, isn't she?" he whispered to Half-Sack in a monotone voice. Juice didn't think about who was around at that moment, as the words slipped from his lips.
"Yeah," Half-Sack rapidly nodded his head in agreement, while he was actually drooling over her and had to readjust the spring in his jeans. "Hard to think she came from Clay," he chuckled.
"Hey!" Clay whacked both the zombie like boys on the back of the head.
"Ow!" they both hissed simultaneously, rubbing the back of their heads.
"Both of your ugly mugs better not be thinking what I think your thinking about," he warned, pointing a stern finger in their faces.
"Hell no, sir" Half-Sack immediately uttered, his eyes awkwardly finding his feet when he looked away from the girl, not knowing where else to look in the mean time.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Clay shot back with narrowed eyes.
"Damn," Juice whistled, his eyes still locked on the girl, who was now inside, sipping a coffee as she talked with Gemma, still visible through the window, as he remained in his hypnotic state.
"Oh, Juicy Boy," Tig chuckled amusingly, coming over to wrap his arm over the boy's shoulders, giving him a light pat. "She's gonna chew you up and spit you out."
"Ain't that the truth," Opie agreed, shaking his head in amusement - Juice could not handle a girl like Letty Morrow, not in the slightest. Stronger men have tried and let's just say, it didn't end well for them.
Clay joyfully chuckled, finding the boy's crush on his daughter kind of hilarious, knowing she had no interest in dating a Son. He would have applied the rule when she turned eighteen himself, but she had already stated she would never date one of his 'brothers' way before that.
"There are two sides to my daughter; the angelic side of her mother and the devious side of me. And you never know what side you're gonna get from one moment to the next. She can switch just like that," he said, clicking his fingers together, as a sinister smirk tugged at the corner his lips. "So, this should be fun to watch, aye, boys?" he mocked, as they all roared with laughter.
Poor Juice had no idea what he was getting himself into; swooning over the President's daughter.
☆《》¤
Originally Published on Wattpad on the 10/03/2024
A/N:
Please not, all Images were created by Bing's AI generator. Although, the title tag at the top was made by me.
Let me know what you thought of the Prologue to my Sons of Anarchy Fanfiction - Ride or Die.
Marley 😁
Words: 3182
#sons of anarchy#juice ortiz#clay morrow#jax teller#gemma teller#opie winston#chibs telford#bobby munson#tig trager#emmy rossum#ride or die#samcro#penn badgley#theo rossi#fanfiction#wattpad#writers on tumblr#reading#books#new writers on tumblr#my books#michelle rodriguez#my ocs#my oc character#original character#my characters#my oc stuff#my oc art
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Do you have any advice on how to improve writing characters and character interactions?
Yes! Oh my god, this ask got me so excited I’m actually typing out the response in a word document. Let’s fucking go. I’ll try to omit any well-known advice like “read other books” and “practice a lot”, y’all know that already, so I’ll get straight to practical tips. I’ll also be bringing up examples from my TF2 fics because it’s easier for me to make my points this way, and also because my fics are epic and you should totally read them.
Branch out from the widely recognized go-to emotion signifiers. Watch the people around you and notice how often they raise an eyebrow when confused, or tilt their head when inquisitive, or clench their fists when angry – it’s not entirely implausible that they do it, but chances are, they also do something else that’s way more unique, more interesting, more “them”.
It makes emotions personal, but it also makes gestures and non-verbal interactions personal. In the beginning of my fic “Kill the Red”, Soldier salutes Pyro in the way of encouragement because that is how Soldier acts when he’s trying to be reassuring and confident. At the end of the fic, this happens: “(Pyro) glanced up, found Soldier’s eyes, and gave him back that salute he owed.” It’s a very small bit, but it reinforces Soldier’s characterization as an assuring, commanding presence, as well as Pyro’s impressionable but proactive personality, and helps define their unique dynamic. I could have had Soldier give Pyro a pat on the back instead and be done with it, and the fic wouldn’t suffer too much, but what I went with in the end is way better.
Dialogue is my favorite part of the writing process, but it’s also the easiest to mess up. Here’s few important things to keep in mind when writing dialogue.
Get to the point. Skip the vocal fills, greetings and goodbyes, and all deceivingly human junk that is so easy to get caught up in. Have your characters say what they want to say, in the way that only they would say it, and be done with it. If there’s no consequence or weight to the way someone says “sorry”, write simply that the character apologized, but don’t dignify it with quotes and a dialogue tag. That’s for special occasions only.
Make dialogue tags into actions. There’s a bunch of examples for this in all my fics, here’s some from “Close Call”.
“Coming to a professional?” Spy smiled, eyes narrow like those of a mischievous cat.
“Where?” Soldier squinted and leaned forward but seemed to be looking in the wrong direction, just slightly too far to the left.
“I wouldn’t touch it with a ten-foot pole.” A cardboard folder was pressed into Sniper’s chest. Spy grinned proudly. “Take a look.”
He clutched the steering wheel. “It’s the only big enough clearing in these bloody woods.”
Like, it’s such a technical advice, but I read fanfiction and I know how many people struggle with this, and it just helps the flow of conversation so much? You can say “said” and “replied” and other such words, but it really does wonders to intersperse them with actions that do not imply speaking at all. This is also how I manage conversations among multiple people without constantly going “X asked” and “Y answered”. It establishes the presence of every character in the scene in a proactive manner but doesn’t overburden the text with needless clarifications.
Count your lines. That’s a simple one. Count your paragraphs to make it so the characters’ lines alternate. Even if nobody says anything, count that paragraph as a line too. It just makes text so much clearer.
Make characters say what they think. This is so basic but like. I saw the exact opposite advice once and it bugs me so much. No, you don’t obscure the characters’ intentions and feelings in fifty layers of unnecessary misunderstandings to create pointless drama, that’s the opposite of a good story! That’s how you get the one part of Shrek 1 that literally everyone criticized! Goddammit!
There’s a weird example of this with chapter three of my “Vignette Collection”, ironically titled “misunderstanding”. The gist of the fic is that Pyro communicates via gestures and social cues that Medic is too autistic to understand. It works – again, ironically – because both of them say exactly what they mean, even if they don’t understand each other and see the world differently. The resolution is fucking hilarious fitting because the conflict doesn’t exist strictly on the level of phrasing, there is an actual clash of interest in there. Does that make sense? I feel like it doesn’t make sense. Good god.
Make characters be wrong. It’s hard to explain but there’s a really good example in my “Acceptable Losses”. The context of the scene is that Medic is injured and Spy is worried about him, though, importantly, he doesn’t say it verbally. The story is from Medic’s POV, and at some point this happens: “Spy reached into his front pocket for the cigarette case, but reconsidered, for some reason.”
The “for some reason” bit is Medic’s thoughts. I know the reason. You – the reader – know the reason. The reason is that the man is concerned and doesn’t want to smoke up the kitchen when his friend needs clean air and a healthy meal. The only one who doesn’t get this is the point-of-view character. This characterizes him as someone who is accepting of other people’s occasionally strange disposition, but ultimately oblivious to social clues.
This bit alone doesn’t amount to much, but this trait reinforced like fifty times throughout the story works to built that character trait well.
Incorporate metaphors into characterization. I fucking love doing this so much. I have two fics that practically do nothing but this – “What’s it called, Engie?” and “Seasons”. I could write fucking essays about my thought process for both of them but this is already so long so let’s just briefly consider the former. On a side note, I hate that I named it that, I usually have nice names for my fics but that one fucking pisses me off. Anyway.
In “What’s it called, Engie?” Soldier and Engineer alternate POV’s as the story sees them build a close relationship over the course of several unconnected scenes. The core theme is that Soldier cannot express his emotions verbally in a manner that makes sense, so he works through associations instead, and Engie helps him navigate it, all while learning more about the way he sees the world in the process. Well, within this metaphor, Engie is a bee – a busy creature with a nurturing nature and an unexpected sting, while Soldier is an old tree – big and easy to stand out but purposeless and “dry”, as in emotionally. So here’s a few lines from the fic that practically state that directly:
Dell’s voice sounded like watching a bus leave seconds before you could reach it. Like waking up in the middle of the night finding no water at the bedside. Like winter striking too early and forcing the bees to hide.
Bees picked the nicest flowers with open petals, overflowing with nectar and so full of pollen it made people sneeze. Jane couldn’t imagine why such a hard-working genius bee would waste its time trying to nurture a dried-out old twig.
He stayed quiet. Like the silence of a flower to the buzz of a bee, sometimes no answer was an answer too.
And here are a few lines that are not about any of that at all:
“Here, how’s that feelin’?” – and up went the metal case, unfolding into a dispenser, adding its soft hum to the buzz of the workshop.
The clock ticked and tacked like a woodpecker fussing over a worm-eaten tree trunk.
There was a long pause before more words followed, shaky like tree branches in the wind.
“Can I still keep coming to your workshop though? I like how it buzzes.”
Here’s the kicker: THEY’RE ALL THE SAME IMAGERY. They’re the same fucking thing. Trees, bees, hums, buzzing, they’re the same metaphor. There’s one metaphor in that goddamn fic. This is so easy to write but can be so effective, it feels like it should be illegal.
(Another side note: I could write a dissertation about all the shit going on in that fic, like, there’s the naming of characters, the vibrant metaphors of Soldier’s POV contrasting with the practical view that Engie has of the world, the tiny little bits of blink-and-you-miss-it characterization, etc etc okay sorry to brag so much I’m just insane)
This is getting REALLY long so here’s just a few more points with very brief examples to wrap up, and let me know if you want to hear me ramble about writing some more because I love it to a ridiculous degree like. Okay.
You can use association to built unique metaphors. Try to imagine a feeling in your head, pick a few things that feel similar, and then tweak them so they fit the overall theme. My favorite theme is nature and weather metaphors, and my favorite example of this is this line from “Falter” – “Demo plowed through the ocean of their misfortunes with the ferocity of a steam engine, and Soldier clung to him like a flea to a fur coat.”
A character arc does not necessarily have to change your character in a big way. Sniper goes through a character arc in “Close Call”, but it manifests in really small ways, such as him resolving to call his parents, or him letting Spy have his coffee maker.
Also like. Basic but you need to have an idea of where the story is going and why, even if it’s a really small-scale story with very low stakes. That way you can introduce things in the beginning and then call back on them at the end. It’s called a circular plot structure, but on a smaller scale it does not have to be the whole plot, it can just be individual elements that aren’t plot-relevant, like the coffee maker described above.
Use nomenclature as a tool of characterization. Decide what words your characters use to refer to others and to themselves, and stick by that. Differentiate them this way. It’s fun.
Anything can be a bit of characterization. It never exists in a vacuum. You have to get into your character’s brain and just sit there all the time. Good luck.
Hope this was at least a little bit informative. Cheers!
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hi dude Killer chapter I fucking loved it. However, the part where they're driving in the car at the end? you had me doing mental gymnastics because I could Swear the wheel is on the left side of the car in America. I'm pretty sure. and I'm also pretty sure Joel would not be doing a criss cross applesauce with his hands to hold her thigh. amazing chapter though (it was so fucking funny, had to really scratch my head to figure out the Logistics of that scene)
i’ve been laughing at criss cross applesauce all fucking day i swear man
so i realised very quickly after posting that americans literally have the steering wheel on the opposite side of their car from here but i left it in cause i cbf editing at the time, i’ll go in and change it soon but i honestly think it’s kinda funny💀
#CRISS CROSS APPLE SAUCE🗣️#i mean#if he wants to hold her thigh he’s gonna do whatever it takes amirite???#jess replies#ALP
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And suddenly we're Thelma and Louise
Yaaayy my fic for Lex's Spicy Six Summer Challenge is finished, time for some lesbian romcom roadtrip summer vibes 💖
The sun is shining, Blondie is blasting from the speakers and Robin is riding a sugar high from the overdose of M&M's she's been eating. She looks to her left, where Nancy is sitting behind the wheel, and is struck for the millionth time by what a gorgeous sight she is to behold: her usually perfectly styled hair is blown all messy by the breeze coming in through the open windows and the tip of her nose is just a little bit sunburnt. Her pale, thin fingers are loosely resting on the steering wheel, absentmindedly drumming along to the music. And her eyes – those goddamn enchanting eyes – have that bright twinkle in them while they both sing along to Go through it at the top of their lungs.
As the trees and the rolling hills flash by, and more miles of asphalt disappear underneath the wheels of the car, Robin ponders how different Nancy looks compared to her graduation night a few weeks ago.
🚙
It was a perfect evening in the way everything about Nancy's life was to the outside world. But after having known her for more than six years, Robin knew better. She was one of the few people who got to see the Nancy behind the scenes; behind the robes and the valedictorian speech and the brightly shining sun and the big party with all her family and friends and fancy appetizers. She had seen Nancy's fake smile faltering and witnessed her tears while the two of them were hidden from view near the end of the party.
'I accomplished nothing,' Nancy had told her with wet cheeks and trembling hands.
Robin didn't remind her of her diploma solely consisting straight A's, or her internship at the New Yorker, or the job offers she received from at least three big players on the journalism market. She knew that that wasn't what Nancy meant.
'I wanted to see the world, remember? And here I am, with a degree and literally nothing else.'
Everything Robin could tell her felt like the wrong thing for this particular conversation. She knew how incredibly hard Nancy had worked, how much she dreamed of a career and success. But there was no room for what she had accomplished in her post-graduation doom spiral, which was merely built of the things she had not done over the past six years. The things she'd had to give up to get where she was now. The things Robin did get to do: parties and hookups and the stupid mistakes everyone makes when they're in their twenties; random jobs she enjoyed instead of jobs that looked good on her resume; trips to different states, even to different countries sometimes.
'You still got time to do that,' was what Robin settled on saying. And when Nancy shot her a look filled with disbelief, she decided to double down on it. 'I'm serious, Nance, it's not like your life is over after graduating. You still got years ahead of you to see the world! You know what? This is actually the perfect moment: for once in your life, you have zero obligations – you have the ultimate freedom right now! You'll find your dream job literally whenever with that perfect resume of yours, you still have tons of shady hush money sensibly saved away... There's literally nothing stopping you, right?'
It was illustrative of Nancy's determined nature when her tears made place for a small smile right after Robin finished talking.
She sniffled and wiped her fingers over the wet skin underneath her eyes, with careful precision in order not to spread her mascara all over her cheeks.
'I mean, I'd probably need to find someone to come with me,' she said.
'Really? That's the only thing holding you back?'
Nancy nodded.
'Okay, in that case, I'm sure we can arrange something,' said Robin. 'Aren't more of your journalism friends finishing up right about now? Or maybe Max wants to spend her holiday going –'
'I was talking about you, you idiot,' Nancy cut her off, her smile widening. 'You wanna go on a roadtrip with me?'
It was a proposal that knocked Robin's breath out of her lungs.
'You wanna go see the world – with me?'
'Yes, of course,' said Nancy. She let a hand trail over Robin's arm. 'I can't think of anyone I'd rather share an adventure with.'
And how could Robin ever say no to that?
Read the rest on ao3
#LexsSummerFanworksChallenge#this prompt has been soooo much fun to flesh out properly#i really loved writing this one <3#don't mind me rambling about stranger things#ronance#robin buckley#nancy wheeler#fanfic#ao3#stranger things#fruity ficlet
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Dead in the Water (Rewrite Challenge)
This is my submission for @choicesprompts Rewrite Challenge.
Not gonna lie, when I first read about this event my first two thoughts were: “Not ANOTHER event!” quickly followed by, “As fanfic authors, all we do is rewrite.” Not to mention, I already have UnRomance, my rewrite of 9 ½ Weeks.
However, the more I thought about it, the more the idea grew on me. After all, I have plans (unfulfilled at the moment) to rewrite 16 Candles with Drake Walker as Jake Ryan, and possibly Striptease, based on the book by Carl Hiaasen and the movie starring Demi Moore, Burt Reynolds, and Ving Rhames.
So, I figured why not? Like so many others here, I initially took inspo from Grey’s Anatomy (and I still may write that story) but went with another version of dark and twisty: THIS iconic scene from How to Get Away with Murder.
Not sure I can do it justice, but gonna try. (My writing skills are rusty AF) I could have just rewritten the actual scene but wanted to provide readers with context/background while staying faithful (somewhat) to at least one of the show’s many Season 1 storylines.
So.Many.Thank yous to those who read this over in parts and pieces. Your encouragement and excitement over this story truly pushed me to finish it. To those who will read this, THANK YOU! Your reads, likes, comments, and/or reblogs are appreciated more than you will ever know.
Please excuse any and all typos, missing/extraneous words, and/or grammatical errors. MS Editor rates this story as 99% error free.
Story contains a couple of OCs, and my (and possibly Shonda Rhimes’) version of PB characters.
Song Inspo: Human, Rag n Bone
Word Count: 2,500
Pairing: Liam x Riley
Rating: M for Mature themes
Two weeks ago
The car drove silently through the empty streets of the duchy, streetlights occasionally and briefly illuminating the planes and angles of the driver’s face, and the knuckles of their hand on the steering wheel.
No one saw either.
The car entered the Warehouse District where the streetlamps were fewer, the buildings boxier, and the potholes were plentiful. The driver’s eyes squinted as they took a sharp turn into a narrow, dead-end alleyway, coming to a stop in front of a dumpster. They pulled a ski mask over their face and tugged a pair of leather gloves that had been laying in the passenger seat onto their hands before quietly exiting and retrieving the plastic-wrapped bundle from the back seat, hoisting it over their shoulder.
The figure was dressed completely in black: soft-soled shoes, shirt, pants, gloves, balaclava. They traipsed easily up the ladder that led to a building’s rooftop despite the plastic bag slung over one shoulder. The person was certain they hadn’t been seen or followed but surveyed the still-abandoned streets of the sleeping city below before heading towards the water tower.
With a grunt, they carefully shifted the heavy package to their other shoulder; it was literally dead weight. Their head tilted upwards, staring at the ladder that led to the tower’s catwalk. With a heavy sigh, they lightly trudged the few remaining steps to the steel staircase and began the long climb to the top of the water tank. The person maneuvered more slowly this time; one misstep and there would be two bodies found.
The goal … the hope was no body be found.
Their breathing grew heavier and was an outright pant once they reached the catwalk. They carefully placed the bag down before gloved hands began unwrapping and unrolling the plastic away from the body. As the dead woman was revealed, the person’s eyes raked over the body impersonally.
Her once shapely body was swollen with putrid gases; fortunately, the mentholatum gel the person had spread beneath their nostrils earlier in the evening prevented them from smelling anything foul.
Her flawless skin was mottled and bruised from long-settled blood. Lipstick still stained her lips, which were twisted in a grimace. From the struggle that ended in her death, or the fact that she was nobility wrapped in cheap plastic and tarp, no one would ever know. Her uncombed tresses had bald spots from postmortem hair loss and appeared to be the texture of straw. Her bare breasts were flaccid, nipples pointed downward.
Her feet were grotesquely misshapen from the bloat.
Reluctantly, their eyes pulled themselves away from the subject of a national manhunt and focused on the door; a combination lock kept the door sealed. Their hands went to the tool bag hanging from their leather belt, fingers extracting a pair of 12” bolt cutters. Eyes narrowed in concentration, they neatly cut the lock off before pushing the door fully open
Scooping the dead woman from the catwalk, and cradling the body next to their chest, the person entered the facility; it was pitch-dark and filled with the humming of pipes and pumps regulating the flow of water throughout not one, but two duchies. Operating by feel, the person came to a stop when they bumped the guardrail. With another grunt, they outstretched their arms and heaved the body downward into the tank of water that encircled the room from guardrail to floor.
There was a loud splash, then nothing. The person stood for a few moments more, thinking they should say a prayer for the dead or themselves, but they left without a word for either of them. Outside, they pulled the door shut, gathered the broken lock and sullied plastic, and made their way back down to the street.
At the dumpster, the person stuffed the plastic bag, the broken lock, the face covering, and the gloves inside. As they strode towards the car, they fished a cellphone from their shirt pocket and quickly dialed a number.
The call was picked up, but there was no greeting.
They didn’t expect one.
“It’s done,” they said tersely before hanging up, and climbing into the vehicle.
Present Day
Agata Laskaris and Elias Drakos were ex-lovers who both worked for the Cordonian Ministry of Environmental Health; on this afternoon they were partnered to inspect water towers throughout the Duchy of Krona. It hadn't been too horrible of a workday: The inspections had been cursory at best, and the pair had always worked well together. It helped that their breakup hadn’t been contentious.
Agata had (thankfully) come to the discovery that she was a lesbian. Elais didn’t blame her for her sexuality, nor did he feel he had been led on. What did sting, however, was Agata thanking him for helping her to realize that fact after their third romp.
Immediately after.
She really didn’t know how to let a guy down easy.
“What are your thoughts on the missing noble lady?” Agata asked as they crossed the rooftop, headed for the water tower’s ladder.
“It’s been a month. She’s either dead or run off somewhere. Probably never got over social season … to be considered the front runner and then tossed over for another? I’d been on the first thing smoking out of here.”
‘You would,” Agata teased as she began climbing the ladder. “Don’t look at my ass!”
“Your ass is looking at me,” Elias retorted.
At the catwalk, they both stared in puzzlement at the shut door missing its padlock.
“Who cut the fucking lock?” Elias grumbled.
“Probably teenagers. You know they like to climb the towers and lay on the catwalk on clear nights,” Agata offered dismissively. “It isn’t the first time this has happened and won’t be the last until we get the control panels installed. Now, come on! It’s our last tower of the day; let’s get the water readings and go grab a beer.”
Elias nodded, and entered the tank first, his ex close behind him. His fingers found the light switch easily, and they both blinked as bright fluorescent lighting filled the metal enclosure. Agata’s nose wrinkled at a faint stench, seemingly wafting from the water.
“Something’s off,” she remarked as she walked towards the opposite wall where digital thermometers and computer panels flashed numbers and temperatures.
“Aggie,” Elias rasped, his voice filled with dread.
Agata looked over her shoulder, slightly irritated. She really wanted that beer. “What’s wrong?”
Elias, his face pale, pointed his index finger towards the vast pool of water below, where a body clad only in red panties bobbed. “We’ve found the missing aristocrat.”
The Capital
The Queen sat on the side of her marital bed as she slowly hung up the antique French telephone, taking care to quietly place the receiver back into the cradle. Her French-manicured fingertips plucked at the lacy fringe hanging from the bed’s duvet, while her eyes studied the egret-colored Louis XV Savonnerie carpet beneath her bare feet.
The Queen was enamored with all things French, her favorites being wine, kisses, and perfume. Her husband provided with two of the three; his kisses were reserved for someone else … anyone else, other than his wife.
The King would beg to differ.
The monarch’s brow creased as she processed the telephone call:
She felt relief that the hussy had been found; she and the King had presented a united front regarding the disappearance, insisting the King’s Guard take lead in the investigation and closely collaborate with the Cordonian Ministry of Criminal Investigation and Public Safety.
The Queen hadn’t wished death upon the noblewoman, but this outcome at least guaranteed the two would never meet again on an earthly plane. And that was something to praise the Lord for.
But among the relief, there was trepidation; she now had to confront her husband.
One month ago, Bastien Lykel, Head of the King’s Guard, stood before his Queen offering her a plain cardboard box filled with items from the missing noblewoman’s bedchambers that would hopefully yield clues as to her whereabouts.
“Set it on my desk,” Her Majesty directed in a snappish tone as she plucked yellowed leaves from a floor plant sat in a far corner of her formal study. Her heels sank silently into the plush rug as she made her way to the wastebasket before turning to face the guard. “And not one word to the King. Do we have an understanding, Mr. Lykel?”
The sentry took in the Queen’s haughty expression and slightly arched eyebrow, then nodded. “We do.”
A satisfied smirk curled her lip. “Excellent.”
The Queen watched the door close behind Bastien, then made her way to the bar cart to pour herself a full glass of wine before seating herself at the bureau to sort through the box’s contents.
A red bikini top which smelled of chlorine. Obviously, the woman had gone swimming in her estate’s Olympic-sized indoor pool sometime between her last public appearance and her disappearance.
But where was the bikini bottom?
A day planner; the Queen idly thumbed through its pages, noticing that some days and dates were marked with actual events and appointments, while others merely had locations such as “coffeeshop” or duchy names scribbled across them.
Two positive pregnancy tests. The Queen stared at them dumbfounded while slowly sipping the rich merlot, her mind churning. Her hand absently drifted down to her belly, her fingertips trailing across her midsection. She and the King had been trying for a child, but all they had to show for it so far was a miscarriage.
She set her wine glass down a bit more harshly than intended before scrabbling her hands through the box, pushing aside parking citations, the woman’s wallet, and pieces of valuable jewelry as she searched for electronic devices.
But there was no tablet, no laptop.
Why? Where were they?
However, there was a cellphone that the guards had unlocked. The Queen snatched it up, her fingernails tapping furiously against the screen. Her heart was heavy and her breath ragged as she pulled up text messages. The noblewoman had been smart. Nothing incriminating there.
The Queen wracked her brain figuring out where else she could get confirmation of her suspicions, and then it hit her. The photo gallery.
It was filled with selfies of the missing noblewoman, her expressions varied: bright smiles, sultry looks, with and without makeup. Her locations varied as well: galas, gardens, the Eiffel Tower, New York City.
The Queen impatiently scrolled through photos of the noblewoman with members of court in both public and private settings until one picture made her stop. Her eyes widened before thinning in anger and resignation.
The Queen had always thought but had never known.
Until now.
She carefully set the phone upon the desktop, then picked up her wineglass.
Her maid came running when she heard the glass shatter against a wall.
The Queen sighed heavily before rising from the bed. It had been a long day, and even longer month. Her fingers nimbly unbuttoned her silk bouse, slipping it down over her shoulders and arms; her hands reached behind her to unzip her pencil skirt. The fabric whispered against the carpeting as it fell. Clad only in bra and panties, the monarch pushed her feet into plush slippers, and made her way to her vanity.
Seated in a straight back chair, she stared at her reflection in the mirror; the Queen’s face stared back at her. Flawless hair and makeup. Stately jewelry. Pursing her lips, she began removing her jewelry piece by piece: pearl earrings, pearl necklace, diamond-encrusted gold bracelet. She broke her gaze from the mirror to stare at her wedding ring, her fingers tugging and pulling at the circular metal.
She and her husband had a union, not a marriage. Had it ever been anything else?
The Queen stopped fiddling with the ring; it would remain on her finger. Her gaze caught sight of her elaborate, upswept hairstyle; her hand curled around the edge of her hairline as she snatched the wig off in one fell swoop. Beneath, her natural hair was short and curly with some frizz at the ends.
She closed her eyes, her fingers removing the false eyelashes by rote. The Queen tossed them gingerly into the nearby trashcan; they resembled hairy spider legs to her. She then reached for wipes to remove her makeup; she scrubbed lightly at first, then harder as rouge and foundation painted and stained the damp cloths.
Beneath the painted veneer she presented to the world as Queen of Cordonia, was a black woman named Riley Brooks. A former waitress from Brooklyn, NY. She had enough intelligence and personality to get Cordonian to accept her, but still the country hadn’t done so fully.
She was American, which meant foreign.
Even though Liam was Asian, he was only half-Korean and was never referred to as Queen Eleanor’s son. No, Liam was always the King’s son. The white King’s son.
No one but Liam knew what lay beneath her artificial beauty: the pockmarks, the scars, the dark bags beneath her eyes. How dark her skin truly was.
That was trust, right? And trust was a form of love, right?
Riley was staring at her naked face when the door to the bedchambers opened and Liam strode in, heading directly towards her. When he reached Riley’s side, he leaned in to give her a lingering kiss on her cheek.
It wasn’t an insincere gesture, but definitely more routine than romantic.
“I just heard the Countess’ body was found today, in a water tower of all places,” he said as he straightened up to shrug off his suit jacket.
No response from Riley, who was moisturizing her face and neck.
“The Palace will release a statement this evening saying that a criminal investigation will be launched at the highest priority. Of course, we’ll go visit Godfrey and Adelaide first thing in the morning.”
“Of course. Madeleine was a valued member of this Court,” Riley replied dully as she resumed staring at her reflection.
The King threw her a brief glance, puzzlement in his expression. “You’re quiet this evening. Are things well with you?”
Riley’s fingers were pulling open one of the vanity’s drawers.; her hand curled around the cellphone.
“Liam?”
He adjusted his jacket on a hanger before turning to fully face his wife. “Yes, love?”
Riley pulled out the phone, already open to a picture, and held it out so Liam could see it. The photo was a dick pic, and not a selfie that had been sent. No, this picture was taken at eye level, up close and personal. Every detail was visible: the bulging vein along its underside, the curve to the left, the hand fisted at its base with the signet ring on the right ring finger.
Maintaining eye contact with her husband, the Queen asked in a steady voice that belied the sinking in her stomach, “Why is your penis on a dead woman’s phone?”
Tagging: @jared2612 @ao719 @marietrinmimi @queenjilian @indiacater @kingliam2019 @bebepac @liamxs-world @mom2000aggie @liamrhysstalker2020 @twinkleallnight @umccall71 @superharriet @busywoman @gabesmommie1130 @tessa-liam @beezm @gardeningourmet @lovingchoices14 @mainstreetreader @angelasscribbles @lady-calypso @emkay512 @princessleac1 @charlotteg234 @alj4890 @yourfavaquarius111 @motorcitymademadame @queenmiarys @choicesficwriterscreations
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hello this will be a reaction to black friday starkid because i like to talk about the things i like
(it ended up only being act 1 bc it got super long lol)
ths is only my third time watching it and the first time was like. 2 years ago (the second time was only a few months ago but i didnt absorb enough or write this so here we go again)
will be VERY long btw
in the jingle when angelas sniggle says "we're the sniggles! don't be scared!" she winks when she says dont be scared. this is. foreshadowing :thumbsup:
never getting over "hes deep down in drowsy town, sleepng the dreamless sleep of the dead!"
also JAMES TOLBERT!!!!! his VOICE im so <3 [heart]
also oh my god im reading WAY too far into this but. "hes riding santas sleigh cause hes friends with all the elves" wigglys main allies are uncle wiley and linda monroe, who are played by joey and lauren, who both play elves in santa claus is going to high school!!!
OUGH i love the announcer whose voice is that?? it is reminiscent of big bill hells lol
"i wanted a salad, but now i have a child" never gets old lol. also the exposition in this scene is FLAWLESS mwah
THE LA DI DA DA DAY MOTIF IN THE BACKGROUND LMAO (it is definitely NOT a la di da da day)
"i do not get flashbacks!!! ...i remember bad things vividly." TOM IS SO ME CODED LOL
emma doing paul's "okay" thing gives me LIFE
DYLAN SAUNDERS APPRECIATION MOMENT i love tom houston so much i love dylan saunders oh my goodness gracious literally flawless acting !!! and his VOICE i cant even (also him holding up his hands like the steering wheel is such good foreshadowing for him having been the one driving!!)
tom is COMPLETELY unable to read sarcasm. tom houston autism confirmed. (/silly)
OK OK I KNOW that "bud" is a common way to refer to weed. however. lex smoking weed in hatchetfield and says "bud" specifically?? PERKYS BUDS REFERENCE!
the "to nordstrom? ah shiiit!" he sounds so canadian?? i cant be the only one hearing this lol what was that
COREY DORRIS APPRECIATION MOMENT!!!!! HIS VOICE HIS ACTING HES SOOOO <3 [heart] also the frank and uncle wiley interaction is SO FUNNY !!! and the condescension paired with calling lex "alexandra" is a rlly good way to make it obvious how icky frank is i love it
"honest?" "cross my heart, hope to die" BUT HE WAS LYING AND THEN HE DIES. I SEE WHAT YOU DID THERE STARKID
am i the only one whos curious about the gerald cinnabon story lmao. what did he DO that was so bad that gary goldstein attorney at law couldnt save him from the consequences?
"thats called a BRIBE and its ILLEGAL!!!" *skeptical look* "...or it SHOULD be." IM GIGGLING
im osrry the "my CHILDREN were accidents" line KILLS ME lmao. esp bc she literally IS making it everyone elses problem (by demanding 4 wigglys)!!
ik this fandom talks a lot about "stop crying gerald i wasnt talking to you" but i dont think we pay enough attention to lindas stanley monologue. like holy shit.
ALSO TOM TAKES THE SPOT BEHIND BECKY IN LINE AND DOESNT PAY ANYONE and no one even notces bc theyre all too busy gossiping lmao also what do you say is SUCH a good song aaaa!!! (why is the homeless man so invested on
"tHe YeArS hAvE pAsSeD"
FRANK MY BELOVED I LOOOVE OUR DOORS ARE OPEN
unrelated but i just noticed curt (the farmer who has peanuts the hatchetfield pocket squirrel during what if tomorrow comes) does not currently have peanuts the hatchetfield pocket squirrel! how does he come to be in possession of peanuts? was peanuts also drawn to wiggly (since he is canonically a sentient being?) what is really going on here? maybe this was the real conspiracy all along /silly
JEFF BLIM WIGGLY HANDS (also distinctly resembles the wiggly hands jon does as wiggly in npmd!!)
also feast or famine is an INCREDIBLE song like actually AAAAAA !!! chaos reigns!!!
is ethan wearing a kilt? or a skirt?? also him saying "more bad" instead of worse GIGGLE
tom scaring gary off just by looking scary is PEAK comedy i take no criticism
"aHhH yUmMy!!!!!"
"I HAVE A HAIR APPOINTMENT TODAAAAAAAAAY"
the resurgence of hello naughty list?? does sthat mean uncle wiley originally wanted lex to be the prophet. DOES THAT MEAN UNCLE WILEY ORIGINALLY WANTED LEX TO BE THE PROPHET.
i cant stop saying "i have pepper spray and i use it more than you can possibly imagine", also "ohh i dont know if you wanna wanna wanna wanna wanna wanna wanna FUCK with me miss monroe" ITS SO SILLY
when he sings the little "why should you give when you can get" BE STILL MY HEART (i have gender envy for joey richter)
"all you gotta do is just do what you do best-" "SHOP." "-be a mother." "...right." I LOVE THEIR DYNAMIC.
"yEs I fUcKiNg SeE hIm"
i never noticed bob is a parody of obama lmao ALSO HIM COMFORTING WIGGLY AFTER HOWIE CALLS HIM A FUCKING WEIRD LITTLE MONSTER LMAO
"iLL bItE yOuR nIpPLe OfF"
the way the wiggly is damaged is NOT what wouldve happened from being shot. but thats ok bc its my babygirl general john macnamara <3 [heart]
MONSTERS AND MEN IS SO GOOD. I LOVE JEFFS VOICE SM JEFF BLIM APPRECATION MOMENT !!!!! also he looks Rigjt at the camera when he says "its nothing on your phone" GIGGLE
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Underwater
Day 10: Drunk sex (Benny “Borracho” Magalon x F!Reader)
(For the 2022 Kinktober event offered by @the-purity-pen. The original post and calendar/list can be found here. Literally a month late because I had other things I needed to do.)
CW: Intentional run-on sentences; impairment (alcohol, marijuana); heavy angst; (impaired sex, so non-con territory; PiV, protected) 18+ only.
Word Count: 1885
AN: A sequel to this.
AN2: Seriously, heavy angst. You’re gonna hate it.
No one would ever accuse the employees of the Los Angeles County Sheriff’s Department of being ethical, upstanding law enforcement officers. There was a story in the news every other day that proved out the opposite of that.
Certainly no one would ever accuse Big Nick and his team of detectives from Major Crimes as being moral.
If one laid out the guys at Major Crimes, they would fall along a sort of dirtbag spectrum. At one end is Big Nick: a habitual liar and cheater. The man who caught a case of scorching chlamydia and had to tap dance around his wife until it was cleared. The man who routinely bucks police policies like chain of custody. The man who fucks witnesses, who strides through crime scenes, who makes bad choices every single day.
At the other end is Benny. He’s certainly a better man than Nick. He’s never cheated on one of his girls, you included.
But he does lie. He did lie to you, both explicitly and through omission. And you broke up with him without a second thought; too hurt from past boyfriends cheating on you, and too hurt when you thought Benny had cheated on you too.
Benny is at the milder end of the spectrum, but he’s no saint. He’s a liar.
And he doesn’t always accept ‘no’ as an answer. Like when you tell him not to call you, with the implicit, larger order: stay the fuck away from me, Benny.
He doesn’t consider it stalking. Stalking, in his estimation, has bad intentions. Stalking has a sinister end-game.
No, what he is doing is checking up on you. Making sure you’re okay. Watching you from a distance, keeping you safe from afar. He checks your social media obsessively but you’ve gone silent there, so he spends much of his free time staking you out.
It hurts him every time he catches sight of you. As you go into your apartment, as you go for your jog each morning. For the first month, you look so utterly worn down. Your shoulders slump as if the weight of the breakup is crushing you, and maybe it is. You had been so reluctant to let Benny in, had been so hurt in the past that it had been a terrifying thing for you.
And the moment you had started to let your walls down, that stupid mistake of a voicemail happened. That recording at one of the guys’ hotel parties—just enough for you to get the wrong idea, but the salient fact remained: Benny had lied to you. Over and over.
For the first month, Benny can see how much he’s hurt you. The rounded shoulders, the way you look as though some of the color has bled out of you. Once, he is parked outside of your apartment, and you park only a few spots away from him across the street. You don’t see him, but he sees you.
He sees you kill the ignition in your car, and he sees you take a visibly deep breath as your hands curl around your steering wheel.
Then he watches as you drop your forehead against the steering wheel too, and it’s obvious from the way your shoulders shake that you’re crying.
Benny may be at the opposite end of Big Nick, but he still feels like a complete piece of shit. He knows he’s the reasons you’re crying like this. Knowing that if you seem deflated, your light dimmed….that he’s the cause of it.
-----
Three months pass, then a fourth. Before Benny knows it, he’s been single for half a year.
He goes on one date, and it goes miserably. The woman is pretty but dull; the conversation stalls at least three times over drinks, and Benny finds himself missing you keenly. It was never work, spending time with you. It was never a chore. He always wanted to be with you; he missed you when the two of you were apart.
He misses you the most now because you’re not a text or a phone call or a short drive away.
He still follows you, but less than before. He only checks your social media once a week, but you barely ever post anything. He has no idea if you’ve moved on, and he’s not sure which idea makes him sadder—that you have moved on, or that he’s hurt you so badly that you don’t.
-----
The guys notice. How can they not? Their most silent member has gone mute, and they try to cheer him up.
They take him out to strip clubs, pay for lap dances that do nothing to spark any interest for him. Connors tries to set him up with one of his sister’s friends.
Big Nick tries a variety of girls at the hotel parties. He pulls Benny aside one night and tries to give him a fatherly talk, even though the asshole is not old enough to be his father.
“Bitches,” Big Nick tells him, “are a dime a dozen. Anyone can find one. Anyone can get one.”
What Benny needed, according to Nick, was a woman. Not a bitch. Not a whiny bitch who couldn’t forgive. He needed a woman, a secure one, a ride-or-die who’d forgive the little shit because she understood the stress and pressure he was under.
Benny bristles at his use of the word bitch, but he bites his tongue. There may be a sliver of wisdom there, though. You hadn’t even heard his side of the story. You had just played the voicemail for him, then dumped him. You hadn’t even listened to him.
“Let me see her,” Big Nick says, and Benny pulls open his phone, opens up social media. He finds your profile and hands it to Nick.
The man scoffs, scrolls a little. “You could do better,” he proclaims.
Benny bristles at that too. If he could do better, why hasn’t he? Six months later, he still misses you so badly it feels like a broken bone that wasn’t reset properly before it healed, all grinding pain and nerves. He feels like he’s drowning, like he’s underwater and a second away from pulling a breath and letting the water fills his lungs and pull him under.
He reaches out and pries his phone of out Nick’s hands. “She could do better,” he clarifies.
-----
Month eight, and things take a turn.
It’s the hotel party. Always the fucking hotel parties, and sometimes when he’s drunk and sitting there, he wonders if he was shot and died and now lives in some version of hell because it’s always the same stupid party, the same girls, the same blustering alpha-male bullshit from Big Nick, the same laughing and nodding from the rest of the guys, and Benny thinks, is this all there is?
He goes too hard at this party. He goes to hard at all the parties now. He used to stick to just beer before, kept it sober or just a little buzzed because he had you, but now—without you—he goes too hard. He likes to get cross-faded now: smokes a strong joint, then switches to booze once he’s stoned.
Stoned and drunk. It’s easier to forget about you if he has two impairments going on instead of just one.
He’s already off in his own world when the girls come. Big Nick ushers them in, the usual bevy of gorgeous, slender girls with big tits and big asses and skin-tight dresses, and they disperse through the room—
But one breaks away from the group and comes to stand in front of where he sits on the couch. She’s backlit by the ceiling light, and he squints and can just make out the girl’s features under the eye makeup and lipstick—
He blurts out your name, a question, and he sees her nod her head against the halo of light that surrounds her.
“Come on, baby,” you say, and you hold a hand out to him. “Let’s go someplace quieter and talk.”
-----
There isn’t much talking. Benny is too drunk, too stoned. He’s a mess.
“Why’re you here?” he slurs, but you push him gently back onto the bed and say, simply, that Nick brought you.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “So sorry, baby. I messed up so bad—”
You shush him. You tell him that you can talk later. You tell him you want him.
He reaches for you, tugs you closer to him and you oblige. You straddle him on the bed and lean down to kiss him.
You taste different, but it must be the lipstick. You never wear lipstick—if you wear anything, it’s a lip stain, and he knows that because one time you sank to your knees in front of him with a grin and said that you wanted to test your new lip stain, see if it was as good as the saleslady said it was, and he had laughed and said he was happy to be your test subject, and afterwards your mouth had been bare of color except for a thin ring that hadn’t transferred and you had said it was the biggest waste of thirty dollars you’d ever spent and he had laughed again, soothed your stung pride by returning the favor for you, spreading your thighs and feasting on you—
You taste different now. You kiss different. Your mouth is greasy with the lipstick, and there’s a bitter taste underneath. Sweetness at first, and then bitterness. He wants to ask why you’re different, but it’s been almost a year and he’s different so maybe you are too: more bitter.
But at least you’re here. Big Nick, tired of Benny’s moping, of bringing the entire squad down with his sad eyes and dark-cloud aura—Big Nick found you, talked to you, brought you here, and now you’re here, you’re naked underneath him, and Benny’s head is spinning but he’s inside you, moving inside you and you feel different too but maybe it’s just the condom, or maybe it’s because he’s drunk and stoned and the room is spinning, and maybe that’s why you smell different. You must have replaced the niche perfume you loved—the fig and vanilla, warm and sweet—with something heavier, more musky, not you at all, he almost says it, almost says you’ve changed, but you hook an arm around his shoulders and pull him down to you and you whisper in his ear, husky, breathy, how he feels so good inside you, so big, oh, he’s going to make you come and then you do, or you seem to though that feels different too—no velvety gripping of your pussy against him, no pulling him in deeper, no hitching breath as you sigh out his name—no, now you moan loud, high pitched like you’re in a porno together, you’re chanting god yes, oh yes over and over but he doesn’t feel you…he can’t feel you, you aren’t there at all, but he comes anyway, spills harmlessly into the condom and then collapses against the hired girl that only looks like you a little, and a moment later—through the haze of pot and tequila—he realizes what he’s done and starts to cry.
#benny magalon#benny borracho magalon#benny magalon x reader#benny magalon imagine#benny magalon x reader#Borracho Magalon x Reader#borracho magalon headcanon#borracho magalon#kinktober2022#tropes-and-tales#den of thieves
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Translation: Mick's Post race interview with Sky Sport Germany British GP
Source: Sky Sport F1 Germany Live coverage
Please excuse the quality, I had to record it with my phone 😅
Interviewer (Peter): Mick, take us with you, what was the day like?
Mick: Well, I have to say, it took me long enough in the end to get these first points! But it certainly was a lot of fun, we had a good race and I think got through the race without (making) any mistakes, chose the right strategy and changed to tyres at the right time. So I think it’s the (proper) result for that!
Peter: Timo, you as an expert: Which grade would you give Mick today?
Interviewer (Timo): That was.. how do you grade? 1 to 10?
Peter: Let’s say grade 1 very good –
Timo: So yeah, a 9.5 I would say, since I still had a high pulse from the last corner –
Peter: Ah, okay, so we do 1 to 10!
Timo: – yes, so 9.5, my heart stopped there for a moment! I literally screamed – and I hope you didn’t have to beep anything out! – “Leave it! And take the points!” (*laughs*) But of course, you have to try it in such a situation – and I think we have footage of that here – that was one thing, but it was a very clever reaction from you and we saw it on the onboard, where you continuously tried to attack Max Verstappen!
Peter: Let’s watch the scene again! Max Verstappen and Mick Schumacher fighting for the seventh position! What’s your assessment? I’ll let you comment on it!
Mick: Yeah, I was there! (*laughs*) Yeah, we were a bit too close at that point. And right there I thought there is this red curb where he didn’t leave me enough space, and yeah..
Timo: And also before that you tried it three or four times to attack him and you saw and understood that Verstappen with the Red Bull is so fast on the straight and you didn’t even manage to catch up with the DRS. (You) drove very well, with a good overview, took those points cleverly and therefore well done!
Peter: Mick, tell us, after all these weeks, weeks of waiting, with all these different factors, once there was –
Timo: OH!
Peter: – at the car, okay, we take that champagne shower! And rightly so!
– Intermission Gina champagne shower –
Peter: Just a little (one) (*laughs*)
– Gina hoisting the champagne bottle: “Yeeeahhh!!” –
Peter: Ahh wonderful! (*switches to English in favour of those who can’t speak German there like Justine*) No, it’s totally okay! I like it! We must celebrate Mick’s P8 today!
– Gina throwing the last bit of champagne in their direction –
Gina: There’s some left of it! – gives Mick the nearly empty champagne bottle –
Peter: Mick, cheers!
Mick: Thanks!
Peter: Ohh, he managed to get him there – did Timo manage to get out of it?
Peter: Congratulations!– Mick proceeds to shower Timo with the rest of it –
Timo: Ah, a little bit!
Peter: Oh so he did get –
Timo: (*grins at Mick*) Drink up, now!
Peter: – some! But lovely to see how the spirit is there, how the team celebrated you which was hinted at a bit before after long weeks of waiting! How was it for you? How difficult was it for you to go through this phase?
Mick: Well I think that we tried out a lot with the setup after Bahrain and then, of course, it was all influenced by a lot more pressure than usual. Sadly had a few mistakes here and there, but to understand the car, which is a lot harder than driving it last year and you just have to got with it. And I think for getting these points today, all the little mistakes were worth it!
Timo: How difficult was it for you after yesterday? We talked about it already after the qualifying where the steering wheel was tilted to the left and you had no chance to get into Q2, maybe even Q3. How difficult is it for you to then keep calm and say ‘Oh man, another chance gone where I could have shown what is possible!’?
Mick: In the end we are a team. We win and we lose as a team, that is my mentality since the very beginning. Therefore, I don’t put any blame on the team. I try to motivate them by saying ‘Look, we get through this together!’ and did manage it today by scoring some points from P19!
Peter: Yes and there is one thing to say which I – and we as a team – did say yesterday: What I find remarkable about you is that you always stay confident, very focussed, very friendly and all of it does seem sincere. And at your age! Again, compliments to you. That is the opinion we generally have in the team. One more special moment we like to mention: At the end of the moment there was a radio message, let’s listen to that!
Günther Steiner: “Amazing, Mick!” Mick: “Thank you!” Günther: “Really, a fantastic job! Thank you! Now it’s going uphill again, thank you. Fanatastic! Fanstastic drive! Thank you.”
– Mick’s onboard camera is shown and radio messages can be heard.
Corinna Schumacher: “Micky I’m a so proud of you! Well done darling!!" –
Peter: That was the mum!
– Mick smiling and literally glowing –
Peter: Yes, great moments! Goosebump moments! Can you comment on that again, this support? We just addressed it, not only from the team, but also from the family! How important is that on days like these?
Peter: Very good! Timo, you’ve got the last question?
Mick: Yeah, it’s of course very nice, even nicer that they could all be here today and didn’t have to watch it from home, but could all be here and (that) we are able to celebrate this day together!
Timo: Nope! Don’t have any more! (*laughs*) Enjoy it! Drink aother bottle of champagne with the family and have fun!
Mick: You wanna join in?
Timo: No, no! (*laughs*) I might join in later!
Peter: Mick, enjoy the moment! Congratulations again! Amazing!
– Peter and Timo continue to talk – (I only left this bit in for you to watch Mick being cute to fans 😉)
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was rewatching the final episode of the worst of evil before work today, and there’s just some things that made me think, or that i just noticed again. the fact that we never see where exactly junmo takes gicheol? we neither ever see the interior of the place; the house looks small, rural, quaint. it reminds me of the sort of small houses my grandparents used to live in, and we grew up in the countryside. it is all very nineties, which is i suppose the point of it all. junmo is only ever outside, talking on the phone until gicheol interrupts him.
i mentioned before that i dislike certain editing choices in the finale, and the fact that we never get a wide-shot of junmo carrying gicheol out of the car (that he crashed to prevent him from going to prison and ruining the investigation; but, also, he saved gicheol’s life by doing so and gave him an out in the end) is something i mourn. we got to see gicheol cradle junmo’s head and his back in the backseat, i wish we would’ve seen junmo pull gicheol out of the car, but it would have probably been a fickle thing to shoot. that said, the choice of giving us their literal alternating pov’s of the scene works especially well when gicheol is in the backseat; it is almost abhorrently intimate. his view of junmo in the front seat.
the conversation in the car, when junmo handcuffs gicheol to the steering wheel and leaves him the key after (insane). that entire scene is so loaded, and i love the almost understated performances given here. gicheol is practically in tears, but you can tell junmo is just pretending for the sake of gicheol’s future that he’s trying to secure here. when they bust the union and he looks back at the car, at gicheol, and gicheol realizes he’s left him the key and how he’s actively working through the betrayal then and there. seething. what a stark contrast that is to the gicheol in euijeong’s and junmo’s apartment, how desolate he is, then. him holding their wedding portrait. man, that was another insane choice. how we have seen junmo go to the ends of the abyss for gicheol, for euijeong’s safety, and how he seems resigned and resolute at the end, at the cemetery and during his promotion. the whole after.
euijeong also asks the central question of the show, “do you think we can go back to who we were?” which, the obvious answer is no, they can’t. the pan from junmo’s wedding ring to his watch, given by gicheol, when he’s making the call after he shot him. the close up of gicheol’s bloody cross while he is dying in euijeong’s arms.
i also love how the camera pans between euijeong, and ventures into junmo’s point of view when he sees gicheol sitting at their dining table. we never see how euijeong finds him, instead we see him when junmo does. that struck me the first time i saw it, but i appreciated it even more the second time around.
the entire framing of gicheol and junmo in their hideout, and all their choices there are so rich. the touches, the fact that gicheol offers to drive. all the negative space when they are on their own; how they move simultaneously when they are sitting next to each other and drink. the fact that junmo answers the question euijeong asks much later—people like them, they have gone too far to ever go back. i also wonder how much time passed between junmo getting him out of the car, because gicheol shows almost no signs of being hurt when we find them in their little house. he moves steady and he barely has any bruising or cuts on his face, if any. and in the time that passed, junmo had to take care of him.
all in all, i am still very appreciative of what they’ve done here. and i love the mirror of junmo telling the gangnam union members to drop their knives at the harbor and then, later, telling gicheol to drop his gun (which he doesn’t do, unlike jungbae etc).
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I've just learned something very interesting about my writing style- I write in third person limited (TPL).
and it's not even just about their thoughts and feelings, my literal style is based on what I feel their thought process would be:
This is me writing Lestrade in TPL:
He leaned forward and hit his head on the steering wheel with that last one. They were practically good friends at this point, he’d even managed to get a laugh or two out of the usually stoic man. By any means that was impressive in itself, so there must have been some kind of friendship between the two. Right? It wasn’t going to be weird, Lestrade wasn’t going to make it weird, nope.
It's conversational, simple, to the point. It's how Lestrade's demeanor is in the show
John in TPL:
He chuckled at the casualness of their interactions over the years. At first, John assumed that Sherlock was just a madman waiting for his opportunity to get away with something unscathed, but then found out that Sherlock was just curious about everything. His mind craves input and stimulation. It was rather endearing to watch him discover something new and get excited about it. More often than not, John would sit and patiently listen to him ramble about the most vague and random subjects for hours on end, and he would enjoy it.
Little details, admonishing Sherlock, admiration, romantic like John's journal entries
Sherlock in TPL:
He slowly made his way to the washroom. Not sparing a look in the mirror, he stripped the rest of the way, turned on the taps and stepped in, careful not to get his back in the steady flow of water, just like John said. The hot water felt nice, a rhythmic pattern gently massaging his aching muscles. He wet his hair and lathered his lavender honey shampoo in, soon following with conditioner in a similar scent. He finished his shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, still not looking in the mirror.
Quick, concise, detail-oriented, much like Sherlock's mind-palace scenes
Now that I have noticed this about myself, I wonder if I'm too lost in the BBC Sherlock sauce- Excuse me while I have an existential crisis about my writing.
How I feel rn-
#sherlock fanfiction#bbc sherlock#john watson#Sherlock holmes#greg lestrade#fic snippets#well folks#it was lovely#but I do believe my mind has been consumed by the ever-expanding hole that is the Sherlock Fandom#I have become one with the tjlc#farewell my humans
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The Narrative and In-Universe Disrespect to Penny Polendina
Send me a plot point in Volume 8 + your opinion on it so I can radically alter your already-bad perception of a terrible season of RWBY.
Oh buddy, you better believe I'm ready to talk about that.
See this thing I posted here? About how Volume 8 was written before Volume 7, and very clearly pushed with absolutely zero effort to account for how Volume 7 changed the narrative? Penny is another blatant symptom of that.
The lack of care with the railroading means it's especially obvious what the original plan was and where Burkhart/Rivas/Matthews made alterations that weren't appreciated. Penny was one of them. Miles' and Kerry's original draft of the Atlas arc as a whole means Penny almost certainly wasn't planned to come back at all, much less receive the winter maiden's power. I imagine that was as much an unanticipated twist for M&K as it was for the fandom.
They got the steering wheel back and drove headlong into a river once they did, and you can tell, because Penny gets hacked in Episode 5--which is also the last time we see Pietro or Maria. Did you notice that? You might not have, with so much happening in the plot from there on, but yeah--we literally never hear from Pietro or Maria again. They vanish. When Ruby brings up the efforts to launch Amity's broadcast, she only mentions how it failed to really change anything, and never brings up the status of dear allies of hers. For all she or the audience knows, they're dead.
This was very much deliberate. Miles Luna confirmed Pietro and Maria's presence in "Amity" to be because he didn't want them totally sidelined again and wanted to give them a moment to shine--essentially meaning that, were he not vaguely concerned about fan irritation, he wouldn't have had them in the volume at all. He certainly didn't bother to include them later on when it would've been convenient to have someone like Pietro around, so that Penny's hacking problem can achieve the very obvious solution staring the viewer in the face, that being a counter-hack.
But no. Can't have that--that might mean Penny won't die, and they can't have that because Penny dying is the only way they can get back on track, which was Winter having maiden powers because get it? She's the winter maiden and her name is Winter? Heehee so clever.
So Penny struggles against a virus implanted in her and has her free will completely stripped from her for more than half the volume, until finally just begging the heroes to kill her. She's made human seemingly as a convenient move both to crash Atlas (so that M&K can be assured no one will try and fix their "corrections") and to make it easier for Cinder to inflict the mortal damage needed to get that winter maiden's power back to its "rightful" owner.
The abuses Penny suffers in Volume 8 are extremely uncomfortable, largely because they come off as either spiteful or outright fetishistic. There's no real reason for Penny to momentarily go back to her old self just as the Hound is slamming her against the floor over and over, it's just there to make the viewer even more shocked and outraged than they otherwise would be, so that maybe they'll be relieved when she's finally gone. It's all for the sake of killing her, because killing her is the point. Penny existing at all and having a power M&K had originally drafted going to another character was simply not acceptable. They refused to work around it, and instead derailed everything that had been set up so they could get their own back.
And in the end, they couldn't even be bothered to kill her right. She didn't get to go out after an awesome fight, she didn't get to achieve anything she'd wanted to... She got shanked by Cinder after watching all of her friends tumble away into the nothing, seemingly dying, so that all that was left was to beg Jaune to do what Jaune does best and render women around him in worse state than when he arrived.
That set of scenes in "Amity", after Cinder has been killed and Penny is about to push the Colosseum up to its proper signal? Where she looks down at Atlas and Mantle, then up at the auroras in the sky? It looks suspiciously like a goodbye scene, doesn't it? That's because it is. It's the last time anyone gave a damn about Penny and it shows.
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Blogging through Till the World Ends Ep 9
Boys why are we just standing around? if I saw a bloody knife sticking out of the steering wheel of my car I would just quietly close the door and leave. Feels too much like an ambush for me.
"It's the same knife they tried to kill me with." How would you know?? It's literally just a kitchen knife. You know, the kind that lives in the kitchen. And once again HOW WOULD THEY HAVE FOUND YOU?? AND WHY ARE YOU JUST STANDING AROUND??
"ThE gUn Is GoNe." No duh!! I told you!!
"Art do they know where your house is?" Well now they do because you said that thanks P'Gus. If we meet Art's brother only to have him die I swear...
Lol why is P'Gus driving again after they made a whole point of telling us he'd driven all night and then he didn't even take a nap like he was supposed to. Oh ok now Golf is driving.
Oh geez the moon is so big and scary. That last episode really put that fear deep into my heart didn't it.
Ohhh I like the contrast between the sun and the moon.
P'Gus breaking down is honestly how I feel they would all have been acting this whole time if this was real life. Lol. But where's the fun in that?
This scene is sad and cute but I can't help but ask do we really have time for this? Lol
Great flashback. I hope we're not all going to end up dying on this mountain.
Golf ruining the moment by not returning the secret handshake. What was that Golf?
Not the nail clippers
Once again though, is this really the time? If you don't get to the bunker on time you won't ever be able to have sex again so this seems a little strange just saying.
Ya'll are really gonna get to the bunker at the very last minute aren't you. You're not even a little bit concerned that you're about to have only one more day left? I would've immediately started the car and torn out of there if I woke up and it was suddenly night time and I realized I'd wasted so much time.
Aww Art's the one holding Golf. That's so cute and sweet.
Lol such a sleepy boi
P'Gus is going to die. He's not planning on staying at the bunker with them.
If they think the gang is following them WHY are they shocked to discover evidence that the gang is following them?? "That's not our car." No duh Art!
THERE'S JUS A RANDOM CROWBAR ON THE WINDOW???
THERE'S TWO OF THEM!!!
Well those don't sound suspiciously like last words at all. "Take care of each other."
I love how they haven't given Art a weapon btw
You just told Art to be quiet why are you yelling now? You just lost whatever element of surprise you might've had.
IS THAT A THIRD CROWBAR??? Art does your family make them or something?? What's going on?? (The crack is back and it's crackier than ever.
THEY ARE NOT-!!!
How are the cuddles so cute though? Am I just too soft for cuddles?
Seriously how can these two be so soft? Guys I think this is the softest moment in the show and these guys have killed and eaten people.
Not the nail clippers coming in clutch. I guess that's why we had to have them in that scene earlier. This show is so great.
Babes why are you making so much noise? Untie them.
If Golf does anything to get these boys angry again now that they've decided they're leaving I'm going to be very angry. Prediction: Only Art and Golf make it out of this house alive.
WHY ARE YOU HIDING GOLF?? WHY??
Also why are you going back in when you just decided to be done with this whole thing??
Is Art gonna kill LONG??
Nevermind of course the "bottom" can't handle a gun, what was I thinking?/s
I'm still enjoying this show but I'm worried what my actual response will be if they all actually do die in the end. That's why I wasn't letting myself get too attached to the characters. But Man I really hate that trope where everything is about to be alright and then the characters mess it up for themselves. There was a moment where our gang boys decided, you know what? Everyone lives today. And that's great. I like stuff like that. But now I'm pretty positive they're both going to die.
Prediction: Golf kills P'Joke. Long kills P'Gus. Long can't live without P'Joke and unalives himself. Do Art and Golf make it to the bunker? Does it really matter if they do or not? I've been leaning towards the idea (for a few episodes now) that they probably will choose to die instead of staying in the bunker. Either they'll go to one and they'll hate it like that Uncle did so they'll leave, or they just won't make it.
I just hope the ending feels satisfying but I'm not really sure if they'll be able to pull it off for me personally. Especially if my predictions come true and Golf and Art are the only two who escape the house alive.
Well, on to the last episode.
#till the world ends#Episode 9#I also think it's a bit strange that Art's brother hasn't shown up yet#I've been genuinely expecting him for a while#It's the thing that he and Golf had in common#they both missed their brothers#I was so sure that both of them would appear#I guess there's still time but it would seemingly require them to get to the bunker#WanderingRain
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11. Close Enemy.
genre: smut, supernatural AU, soulmate au, vampires au, werewolf au, Sub/Dom dynamics, angst, mention of traumas, mention of torture, deaths of some characters, and blood, explicit language, fluff, mature content, sadism, lots of killing, and many plot twists.
Mystic Falls, Virginia, February 2020|
That night the group of nine were partying loud and hard as if their lives depended on it, Jungwoo, Haechan, and Mark were humans back then. and the youngest has almost reached the legal age to drink, almost.
"Can you keep an eye on him? It's his first time drinking and I think he had enough, I'm going to use the bathroom and I don't trust that he won't make a scene in my absence." Mark yelled over the loud music, "That depends, are you just peeing or taking a shit?" Mark raised his hand to slap him but Renjun shielded himself behind Jeno who was busy talking to a random girl.
"Hey, we're leaving in fifteen, okay?" Jeno looked at his brother nonchalantly before drifting his gaze back at the girl, "Yeah, whatever."
"Okay haechan, here's your dare," yuta grinned,"Call Subway and ask when the next train is." haechan snorted at him, "Come on, man! I can do better than that!" he whined at him.
"Write something embarrassing on your body with a sharpie!" Jaehyun hollered after Johnny's suggestion, "Ha! That thing I'll do! Jaemin, your purse, hurry!" Jaemin grimaced at him, "It's not a purse! It's a man-bag!" he corrected him, "and here!" he slammed the sharpie on his hand. "Dude, why do you have a Sharpie on your bag?" Renjun asked genuinely confused.
"What to write? what to write?" Haechan tapped his forehead with the head on the pen, "Oh! Oh! I got it!... I need a mirror," they watched him climb the stairs recklessly; three steps in one step.
"he's a dork," Johnny shook his head as he sipped on his drink, "but he's funny," doyoung nodded. "Mark won't like this," jungwoo chuckled and went to pour himself another drink but Jaehyun took the bottle from him, "You had enough for the night, you're already drunk."
"What's going on here?" Taeyong walked to them with an arched brow, "Yeah, what's going on? and why I saw Haechan in the bathroom asking hyunjin to write on his face?"
"Okay! All done!" all of them turned around��inquisitively and excitedly before bursting into fits of laughter, Johnny started slapping and clapping while Renjun and jaemin fished their phones out, snapping as many pictures as they could.
Mark gasped loudly, "bitch! It was you who farted then!—fuck, you literally shat yourself and blamed the smell on me!" they all laughed before they decided to call it a night.
it was raining heavily at the time when everyone got in their cars and left, The dreamies went with Taeyong except haechan who insisted on riding with doyoung. their whole ride back home was full of banters, laughs, and gossip as doyoung found haechan's drunk state amusing to the point where he was distracted and didn't notice the opposite car coming their way.
In reflex, haechan screamed and tried to spin the steering wheel to avoid the car only for them to end up crashing into it. as a reflex, Haechan flew through the laminated glass because he wasn't wearing his seatbelt.
the couples who were in the car were already dead when doyoung checked on them. panicked and skittish, he rushed to haechan and laid his head on his lap, "You're fine, bud. You're fine," he kept chanting, nervously. haechan's face was covered in blood and barely breathing as his heartbeats gradually slowed.
biting his wrist, doyoung brought it to his mouth so he'd drink his blood, "I'm not letting you die, not like this. You're going to be fine, I promise." he caressed his face, wiping the blood off gently before snapping his neck; giving him a merciful kill.
the next day, Renjun buried his parents with an empty soul and a tearful and heartbreaking goodbye. unaware of the real reason for their death—the real responsible for the accident. putting him under the wrong belief that it was due to the bad weather that blocked their vision from seeing the stray deer that jumped out of nowhere. or so what the mayor and the sheriff told him.
...
Present time|
Mark was sitting on the sidewalk with Winter at his side, chatting and laughing at some lame jokes while the rest were skating in another empty pool that's not the Choi's since a certain someone decided it was smart to jump powerfully to see how far the water splash would reach.
"So are you free this evening? I was thinking we should have a date, we haven't been able to spend some...private time together in a while," he suggested with a small grin, flinging his arm around Winter's Frame and bringing her to lay on his chest. she let a content sigh and nodded, "sure, that'd be sweet, Markei." he chuckled and kissed her hair.
Haechan suddenly halted and climbed the pool making Jaemin and Jisung stop too. "hyuck, are you okay?" Mark's question kept unanswered as the tanned vampire started looking at the surroundings with an alarmed mind. Soon Mark heard it too.
"We should leave...NOW!" Haechan yelled at them, testy. "Why? What's happening?" Jisung asked baffled. "you're been weird and shady since yesterday, is there something we need to know? huh?" Chenle narrowed his eyes at the oldest.
Mark helped his girlfriend stand up before giving the orange head a timid glance. scrunching his nose, jaemin picked up his skateboard with a depleted sigh, "You guys are giving me a headache."
Jaemin walked toward the trees but stopped once he saw twenty men circling them, "Well, well, look who we have here!" a blond-haired man exclaimed, "Three humans, two vampires, and a witch! What a dysfunctional group of friends," he smiled smugly at them. Winter recognized him but kept glancing at him wordlessly behind Mark who stood protectively in front of her with shielding arms.
Chenle and Jaemin looked at each other with knitted brows, "Vampires?... A witch?" They were baffled. Haechan clenched his jaw and his eyes turned dark, his sclera turning red as dark veins protruded under his eyes as his sharp fangs elongated. "Stay back. Mark!"
Mark soon grabbed Winter and Jaemin while Jisung yelled the spelling word "Pondas!" Soon Oscar's vampires started groaning and falling to their knees, clutching their heads in extreme agony and pain. taking the chance, Haechan tried to grab the stiffened chenle and Jisung and sprint away but the blond vampire stood in his way with bleeding eyes and nose, and a bloody crooked smile.
"Needs you more than that, witch!" he growled at them. Haechan looked around frantically searching for his brother. he felt his heart fall into a pit when he spotted him circled with more than ten vampires. Jaemin was visibly shaking and Winter looked around with trembling eyes as she held Mark's arm for dear life.
"Tell him we got—" Chanyeol kicked his head open before pushing the dismembered body down lightly with his hand, "Sorry, I was late," he sent them a timid glance. Haechan smiled and nodded at him.
Chanyeol barked at his vampires to get in action and soon the whole pool filled with blood, hearts, and heads of Oscar's vampires.
clapping his hands, he ambled toward the last remaining of Oscar's sidekicks with a smirk, "Do you know why you're still alive?" he shook his head 'no', Chanyeol snickered and placed a hand on his shoulder, never breaking the eye contact.
"I left you alive to send a message to your boss, tell him the doppelgänger is under our lady's protection. crossing him means crossing her. and that my mate, is a dreadful mistake. tell him he just brought death to his doorstep, now leave," he emphasized with a deep voice before turning on his heel toward Mark but halted once he caught Chenle's infuriated gaze and bright yellow eyes.
"You're a vampire?!" he shouted, unbelievably. Haechan stepped away from him with widened eyes, "Your eyes...it can't be." Chenle's chest was heaving slowly from the rage that was building inside of him as he clutched his bloodied hands due to killing one of the vampires with his bare hands.
"You're a werewolf," Chanyeol stated more than asked, "and you're vampires!—"
"CHENLE!" They turned to see Kun, Ten, and Xiaojun with blood splattered on them. "Let me guess, you're werewolves too?" Haechan scoffed, testy.
"says the backstabbing vampires!" Ten barked back, "pretending to be our friends and then attacking us!" They looked at them, confused and angered. "We did not!" Mark defended. Chanyeol watched with a grin before shaking his head and motioning for his vampires to leave. you really went there, huh?
Hearing him, Chanyeol halted in his tracks and turned slowly "You are her vampires, aren't you? you and the Elite?" Mark called with his lips curled in disbelief. The black-haired vampire raised an eyebrow at him before appearing in front of him, "We just saved your life and that doesn't seem like a glimmer of Thank you," he scoffed, "What a brat." chanyeol clicked his tongue in disappointment then disappeared along with his men.
wayv pack eyed them with furious eyes before Kun exclaimed, "Even if you were vampires we were fine with you but that ended today," he spoke, enraged. "Tell your friends this won't end well for them. chenle, you coming?" kun called for him, with an arched brow "I...I—"
Sensing his hesitation, Xiaojun flared a long breath, "THEY NEARLY KILLED YANGYANG!" chenle let out a gasp as he eyed his two best friends with wide eyes, "...chenle," jisung cried out. scowling at them, the orange-haired tsked and stomped away with angry steps and disappeared behind the corner.
"The Elites were here. it was a distraction! they attacked us when the rest left to meet with the hybrid. come home immediately." Mark Heard Doyoung talking with Haechan through the phone, "Yeah, we'll be there soon—we also got attacked—no—we're fine— we just discovered something—very important—we're coming, goddamn it!"
"Do you think she planned this? all of this?" Haechan ushered at the massacre with a clenched jaw, "What's going on! vampires. witches. werewolves?!" Jaemin yelled, skittishly. Mark and haechan sighed a long tired breath before looking at him.
"Now is not the right time, Nana," Mark reassured,"What's important now is your safety. the both of you," he added glancing at his girlfriend.
"When were you planning to tell us?" in disappointment and pain by betrayal, Jaemin asked. "That if you considered doing so."
"We'll talk later, Jaemin, I promise. Now I need you to take her home okay?" he looked at him with pleading eyes.
Jaemin rubbed his face, irritated, before nodding, "Baby, baby, look at me," he cupped her face and made her look at him, "You're going to be fine, okay," she nodded hesitantly, "I don't care about myself! these men are dangerous! Mark, what if something bad happens to you?"
he looked at her with pursed lips. when he saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes, he hugged her, "I'm going to be fine, baby, don't worry," he kissed her softly before making her look him in the eyes.
"You're going to forget everything happened here, we skated, we had fun and nothing strange happened. You felt sick and decided to leave and jaemin suggested walking you home, okay?" She nodded obediently and left with Jaemin.
...
reaching their home, Johnny groaned, frustrated "Not again," he grimaced at the scene. "Can't they barge in more...gently? this sucks!" he threw his hands in the air.
with the help of Taeyong and Jaehyun, they brought Taeil inside, "Oh, thank god! at least a good thing happened today," Doyoung exclaimed.
"What happened here?" Taeyong asked," Baekyun, Kyungsoo, and, Sehun happened," he clicked his tongue, "they came here and asked us to invite them in, they claimed that they were here to discuss something important—" he shrugged before continuing "so we invited them in."
"We were talking about normal deals and whatever before they started asking us these weird questions about a 'secret weapon' that they had claimed we were hiding! when we denied it, they got mad and ....voila, this happened!"
he ushered at the messy house, open drawers, and broken closets. "Mark got attacked by Oscar's vampires... again, I called, and his on the way." They all sighed and watched jaehyun feeding taeil from a blood bag before drifting their eyes to yuta who stood up with a groan "What happened?"
"Last thing I saw was baekhyun's face before he snapped my neck," he grunted, "They're working for her, she's their sire." taeyong said in a taut voice, "Jeno is alive and he's with her right now,"
"Wait—what?" Mark and haechan exclaimed simultaneously, "he's alive!?"
...
"So, the Elites are her bitches that she controls. wayv are werewolves. they will try to kill us and they can!— because they believe we sent our vampires to kill them so... given their nature, a classical revenge move is quite predictable." he shrugged, casually before adding "Jeno is alive and whom we buried is some unlucky dude that we don't know! does this sum it up?"
"You forgot about Armageddon," Johnny added, "Oh, yeah. my mistake. and the armageddon that she believes we have, that we don't!"
"Mark, this your fault," Haechan stated nonchalantly, "If you were to be her boyfriend, non of this shit would've happened."
"Bitch—I— the fuck is happening in your heads?!" Mark gasped, unable to understand the way his brother's brain works. before the siblings would start to pull each other's hair. Taeyong spoke up.
"Enough," they all quieted down and looked at him, "I must tell you something,"
"Oh, god, he's one of her bitches too, isn't he?" Doyoung exclaimed with fake crying. "Bitch shut the fuck up, will ya? thank you," he rolled his eyes before walking out of the house.
"That's it? that's the end of the story?" Johnny called for him, slightly disappointed "I thought he was going to reveal something important like he really has this secret weapon, though,"
Taeyong walked back with a white box and sat in front of them, When he opened it he pulled a stake from it. "This is what she's talking about, I don't know how she knew we have it but somehow she does." he looked at them sternly, "a stake?"
"...a white Oak Stake?" Johnny exclaimed, astonished. "Where did you get it?"
Taeyong held the stake in his hand revealing it to the rest, "It doesn't matter how I get it. What matters is this is the only weapon on earth that's capable of destroying an original vampire; we can kill Samantha with this!" he exclaimed with a hopeful grin.
Jaehyun and Jungwoo shared a look before drifting their gaze at Mark, The latter caught their eyes and arched a brow at them, "What?" Everyone eyed him wordlessly until finally, Taeil uttered his firstly since return. "She trusts you, you're the only one able to approach her."
the furrow between his brows deepened, "Are you telling me to—" he gulped, "—kill her?"
Jaehyun sighed and wrapped his arm around his shoulder, "Not now the least. Mark, she's dangerous to us—all of us. I know what you two have is mystically special but she's still our enemy."
Mark scoffed and stood up, yanking the older's hand in progress. everyone eyed him with bewilderment, "No! I can't do that! I know she's practically Satan but aren't you a bit selfish?! asking me to kill my fucking soulmate?! that's crazy! and you Taeil, I thought you were better than this! hearing that coming from them is normal but from you?— you among all of us?!"
Mark was burning with rage that his jaw kept clenching unwillingly from rage, "You betrayed her once. You can't ask me to do the same! I'm not you! Obliterating her is a priority, I know, but I will never do it! so don't you try asking me again to do such thing." he turned around and left, slamming the door harshly behind him.
Haechan sighed and leaned his head on the headrest, "He's right." Everyone looked at him, "It's cruel asking that from him." Johnny cleared his throat, "Taeyong, what did she tell you when you went with her alone?" he knitted his brows, curiously.
"She said if I don't hand it to her in the next twenty-four hours she'll kill Jeno and send me his head." Taeyong put his head in his hands with a deep sigh, "She's certain that we have something against her and now... I don't know what to do," they all looked at him sympathetically.
"Well, how about we give her a fake one?" Doyoung suggested, "We can ask Jisung to make us one!" Taeil sneered, "She's not stupid to fall for that! The time I spend with her is enough to make me confident the moment she spots the trick, She'll kill Jeno, Us, and everyone we know just as a lesson to never fool her." Taeil's dull words made everyone drain out.
however, Doyoung was persistent on his idea, "We want it to be convincing enough to get Jeno back. Then, we'll face what comes next!" he voiced his mind with a determined look.
Jaehyun hummed before nodding his head, "We can attack after the full moon right after we deal with wayv pack and hopefully come out of it alive since they'll mostly attack at that time which is in a week."
"Why not attack right after we get Jeno?" Taeyong asked with an interwind hand, "That will be so predictable. Plus, we don't know how many vampires she has in here in Mystic Falls." Taeil looked at him, "The Elite alone is a huge problem, however; attacking at the full moon isn't the worst idea ."
"All we need is a powerful witch to cast a Petrification Spell. This spell is a high-level one which means it requires doppelgänger blood and the casting witch to channel extra power from the celestial events to boost their magic... such as an eclipse, or an aurora Borealis, or a comet—" Jungwoo interjected, "or a full moon." Taeil nodded.
"But where could we find a strong witch? Jisung is not that practiced and Taemin is on her side, that filthy bastard." Taeyong seethed. "The bennet witch?" Jaehyun suggested.
Johnny smirked at him and wiggled his brows, "Someone is eager~" Jaehyun grimaced at him. "I don't think she'll agree." Yuta butted in, "She's Elena and Stefan's best friend." they all slouched their shoulders, depleted.
"oh! How about Jimin?"Johnny exclaimed. "Excuse me, what did you say?" Haechan breathed.
"Park Jimin. I heard his great and strong witch. Why not approach him?" Johnny added. "Haechan, do you happen to know him?" the younger smiled warmly at him. "Park Jimin, a Gemini cover witch. cute and sweet with an angelic face."
All of them are aware whenever Haechan uses his calm voice it means he'll blast any moment. "You seem like you have beef with him." Jungwoo joked.
"The man is a sociopath." he said under his breath, "wha—"
"HE'S A DAMN SOCIOPATH WHO HAS BEEN TRYING TO KILL JISUNG FOR YEARS! HE KILLED HIS WHOLE COVEN WHEN THEY REFUSED TO SET HIM AS THE NEXT NEW LEADER. HE KILLED HIS FAMILY, HIS YOUNGER SIBLING! HE'S TRYING TO FIND HIS TWIN SISTER THAT ONLY JISUNG KNOWS HER WHEREABOUT. " he barked.
"And besides that, he's locked up in a place no one can reach, so I hate to burst your bubble but he's no help to us."
Everyone eyed him in pure shock, "What?" Taeyong asked, astonished. "Now, since Jisung is the only remaining family member who's aware of where jimin's twin sister is, he's after him too. so, no. if you still seek him I swear when I meet him, I will kill him myself." he completed in a dark tone before standing up. "This plan has a lot of holes. I'm going to search for my brother, see you later."
"We can't risk it, "jungwoo blurted, "the sooner the better."
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