#The title is a reference to Dancing with a Wolf by All Time Low! | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

paper-stars-and-fireflies · 5 years ago

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6. Dancing with a wolf

The sixth story in the Grimm Omens series! As before, both main characters are OCs: Magnolia is mine, and Omen belongs to the wonderful @splanoot.Thanks for reading! When Omen woke up the next morning, he found his bed empty, sheets cold. He growled, reaching out across the bed. So much for whatever last night had meant- or what he thought it meant. There was a shuffle in the other room and the sound of his door shutting that caught his attention after a moment. The crinkle of plastic and sound of his stove clicking on followed, and Omen willed himself to check it out, absentmindedly grabbing for his helmet. He crept around the corner, peeking into the kitchen. Maggie stood by the sink, unpackaging something, a pan set on the stove to heat. She was dressed in different clothes than last night, and wore clunky headphones as she worked. She’d definitely had a shower recently, and her makeup was fresh. Omen crept closer, trying to see what she was up to. Completely unaware, she slid back and forth, humming, jumbled lyrics falling from her lips as she continued on with whatever she had.

I’m interested but distant to a fault. And I’d never wanna complicate your heart. I’ve gotta let you know, that I think that I love you so You could be my only one, cuz I think that I love you so.

She kept working, starting on breakfast, washing things as soon as she was done with them, and doing her best to keep quiet as she went about cooking. Omen crept closer, setting his helmet on the pub-style table in the corner, leaning on the wall to watch her, lost in her own mind.

I know we only just met, so why do I feel invested, And do you feel it too? Do you feel it too? I could be your best yet, future favorite regret, Do you feel it too, do you feel it too?

Maggie continued on, finishing up two plates and turned to take them to the table, startling when she saw Omen standing there, practically right in front of her. “Having fun?” he asked, the smile not just in his voice, but on his face for once. She smiled back, setting the plates back down on the counter and yanking the headphones off, settling them around her neck. “Good morning,” She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around him in a loose hug, giving him the opportunity to step away at any time. “Sorry, did I wake you? I wanted to surprise you.” She gestured vaguely to the plates. “You left?” He asked, helping her carry everything over to the table. She made a face, noticing his helmet, but said nothing. “Yeah, I just stopped by Ruya’s, I have spare clothes and stuff up there. Didn’t wanna be a mess.” She chuckled, short, but comfortable. “And I got groceries from the market, I didn’t know what you had, didn’t wanna use up something you needed. You like steak and eggs, right? Breakfast burritos?” He nodded along, pulling her chair out before she could. She smiled again, wide and bright and climbed up, letting him push her back in before taking his own seat. They ate in peace for a moment, Maggie tapping her nails on the table as she chewed. Half-way through her food, she cleared her throat, trying to pick the right words to start. “Hey, Omen, can you just, hear me out a second? Real quick. I, uh, I’m not sure what you, ya know, thought of yesterday and all, but just. I thought it was really important and special and I uh….” She buried her face in her hands, muffling a groan. “Can I start over?” She asked, peeking out from between her fingers. Omen smiled back, nodding, waving his hand as if to say, ‘go on’. She took in a deep breath, waited, then blew it out slowly. She pressed her left hand flat against the table, knuckles going white as she lifted the palm to bend the fingers farther. “I trust you, and I hope you trust me, and I know someone knowing you, knowing what you look like, and your other form and everything, it’s scary. Probably scarier for you than it is for me, and I never really wanted to do this, but um, well.” She flipped her hand over on the table, curling her fingers in one by one, a motion she’d picked up from watching Alastor while he waited on his contracts to deliberate. “I want to make a deal. In exchange for not mentioning my… other appearance, I swear to keep anything I learned yesterday, not limited to, but including your identity, hunting methods, form, appearance, all of it a secret, until my extermination or until the deal undone.” She recited it carefully, her eyes kept closed tight as she focused on forcing the words out in just the right order. One word misspoken could create loopholes and disaster, and he was the last one she wanted snared in that. Really, she was trying to protect him. She just hated this was all she could come up with to keep anyone from compelling the information out of her. If she had her eyes open, she might have known to stop, to think of something else. “Is that all this was?” Omen snarled, hands slamming on the tabletop. She flinched back, mouth open in a tiny gasp. “Was it all an act? Some way to gain something you could blackmail me into a deal with? Is that all you want?” He thundered, snatching at his helmet. Her eyes were glued to it, terrified he’d throw it at her, or worse, lunge over the table at her and hold her down all over again. She could almost feel his claws in her skin, and the words caught in her throat, sputtering incoherently. She withdrew her hand, clasping it with her other in her lap, shoulders slumping forward, the slightest tremor breaking out despite her best efforts. “No, Omen, I-” “Save it! You crossroad demons are all the same, I should have known. You’re just like your boss, that two-faced venison bastard.” He stood, shoving away from the table, huge, furious, too close. She stumbled out of her own chair, almost twisting her ankle as she tripped and reached for the couch arm for balance. He took a step towards her and she snatched for her bag and belongings, all piled in the corner of the couch, and raced for the door, biting her lip hard enough to bleed as she tried to swallow gasping sobs. She paused by his door, her back almost pressed against the wall. Her face was red, tears rolling down her face and dripping from her chin. She tried to swipe at them, but only succeeded in smearing her makeup. Omen took another step towards her, crossing the threshold into the living room and she bolted, practically ripping the door open in her haste. She ran from the room, down the hall and up the steps, headed straight out the front door without a word to anyone. She hesitated only briefly in the dark alley that housed Omen’s bike, yanking on a jacket and pulling her bag on, wiping her face clean in an attempt at normalcy. A shadowy form peeled itself off the wall, leaning over her, and she sighed, offering it a look at her face, the smudgy remains of her makeup, the redness, the remaining tremor. The shadow leaning closer, what might have been a face tilting in her direction as if it had eyes. She huffed, stepping past it into the city light. “Let’s just go home,” she told it, waiting for it to slink into her own shadow on the sidewalk. Then she started the long, silent walk to the Radio Tower, arms wrapped around herself the whole way. Back in his suite, Omen righted the chair he’d toppled over, grumbling to himself. He couldn’t have anything, ever. He picked up both plates, scraping the leftovers into the trash and dropping the plates in the sink. He’d deal with it later, and his appetite was gone anyway. Guilt nagged at him, prodding at his stomach, his sides, tugged at his heartstrings, lagged behind his every thought. “She wasn’t trying to hurt you, she was being sincere. She was trying to protect you in her own way,” it urged, begging him to go after her, talk to her, make it right. He huffed again, checking the lock on his door and putting on the deadbolt. She was a crossroads demon. One of Alastor’s. “You have to protect yourself. No one else is gonna do it. Who knows what she could have made you do with her deals. Crossroads demons are shady business. You’re smart,” another part of him applauded, bidding her a bittersweet good riddance. Omen groaned, thumping down on the sofa. His discarded helmet had rolled over to the coffee table. He leaned forward, scooping it up and pulling it on. It didn’t make him feel as safe and contained as it had yesterday morning. Maggie sat on the couch in what was quickly becoming her room at the Tower. Her heels were wedged on the edge of the couch, arms wrapped around her legs, drawing them up close to her chest. Alastor sat on the far edge of the couch, silent, cradling a china cup of coffee older than Maggie’s grandmother. Neither of them spoke, save for the subdued crackle of her boss’s radio static, but she could feel the shadow who’d followed her home over her still. She pressed her forehead against her knees, wishing he would just leave her alone. Her left hand burned, she could feel her crossroads mark carved into it. She flexed it, rolling her knuckles and burying her nails in her palm, trying to stop the ache. She’d rather be sitting at Husk’s bar, whining her blues and drinking away the pain, or cuddled up on Ruya’s bed, letting her friend’s cards and runes make sense when she couldn’t, but both of those would mean the Hotel, and the Hotel meant Omen. It always would to her. The Tower was her home now. “I see someone refused your deal.” Alastor finally spoke, taking a gentle sip from his cup. It must have gone cold, waiting her out. “Yeah. Funny, I was trying to protect them.” Her voice was bitter and she just let it hurt for now. He offered her a glass, and she was surprised to find it spiked. Al’s expression didn’t change, and she took a sip, setting it on the table to her other side. They settled in the silence again, until Magnolia felt strong enough to ask what was on her mind since Omen had screamed at her, since Al’s shadow had walked her home. “Hey, Alastor. Can crossroads demons have lives without deals? Love, have friends, all of that, without contracts all over the place?” She looked up at him, a powerful demon of unimaginable influence and presence. Anything there was to have in Hell, if he wanted it, he had it. But he was always alone. He took another sip of his coffee, setting the cup and saucer aside. He turned towards her, just so slightly. “I don’t know, my dear.” He spoke softly, almost mournfully. She dipped her head again, steadying herself from the wash of despair. Finally, she leaned her head back, resting back on the couch. “Alastor,” she whispered. “I think you should give Angel a call. I think that’d make me feel better.” She didn’t bother specifying for who, or why, and the way he turned, taking his cup and leaving without letting her see his face was answer enough. She slumped over the arm of the couch, letting herself slip into a fitful rest.

#Grimm Omens #Song included is Telephone by Waterparks!#The title is a reference to Dancing with a Wolf by All Time Low!#Crossroads!Alastor #Background RadioDust #It shows up later #I swear #hazbin hotel oc #hazbin hotel original character

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weelittleweasley · 4 years ago

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cant take my eyes off of you (g.w.)

prompt: george feels like he’s on top of the world when he’s with you and he needs to let you know how he feels.

pairing: george weasley x fem! gryffindor reader

warnings: underage drinking, intoxication, dirty dancing, sexual references (blink and you’ll miss it), language

word count: 2.7k

taglist: @rosaliepostsstuff @harrysweasleys @gcdricreads @lumos-barnes @whizboingies @lumosandnoxwriting @pxroxide-prinxcesss @c-t-h @lol-idk-oops @another-lonely-heart-blog @kaseyrose96-blog @hufflepuff5972 @gryffindcrghost @wand3ringr0s3 @parseltongueswriting @shilohpug @peachypotter @spacexcowgirl @paintballkid711 @vogueweasley

It wouldn’t be a common room victory celebration without a surplus of various booze, music loud enough to shatter your ear drum, and random students scattered around dancing and screaming to the music. It was a sensory overload at its finest, but you wouldn’t want it any other way. The quidditch victory was well earned against Hufflepuff and the team wanted to celebrate properly. This ultimately translated to getting absolutely hammered before 10pm.

You stood in the corner of the room, standing next to Hermione and Ginny, sipping on whatever drink Lee had poured you. To be honest, you couldn’t make out what it was; it was a cocktail of miscellaneous liquors that would be sure to have you regretting this decision in the morning.

As you sipped on your beverage, you turned to your two friends and gave them a sneaky smile as the music gets turned up even louder. “Oh, no,” Hermione started. “Don’t give me that look.”

“What? I just want to dance,” you start to back up towards the dance floor, pulling Ginny along with you as she laughs. “Come on, Granger! Loosen up!”

You and Ginny immediately start to break out into dance, swinging your hips to the music as Ginny chugs the rest of the drink in her cup, you following suit. The liquor is sweet, but burns your throat and warms your chest. When you finish it, you throw your cup to the ground and give into the pulsating base. Ginny laughs as you throw your hands in the air and scream sing the lyrics to the song. It was nice to finally loosen up after a long week.

But you halt your dancing when you feel two arms wrap around your waist, lip attaching themselves to your neck. You immediately flip around to see your George staring back at you, a drunk smile on his lips as a low chuckle fall from his mouth. “You scared me,” you place a hand on your chest before leaning into him, his arms pulling close against his chest.

George’s goofy grin remains on his face as he ducks his head down to press a kiss to your lips. His lips taste of whiskey, his kiss intoxicating you better than the alcohol. George mumbles against your lips, “Figured I’d join you on the dance floor.” He smiles before kissing you again, you smiling and shaking your head, his lips kissing yours against, harder as you place your hand on the back of his neck, drawing him closer to you. The bass of the music pounded through the floor and shook your core as your heart beat faster as George continued to kiss you on the dance floor. Any memory of what you were doing before George came along slipped out of your mind and all you could focus on was the way his body moved against yours as he kissed you.

His hands are gripping your hips as you pull away, hips moving against each other in sync, a smirk on George’s lips. Your faces are inches apart as you giggle, pressed against each other in a sea of bodies on the dance floor. People around you wolf whistled as you danced against George, his eyes not daring to leave yours for a moment. You pressed your backside against George, grinding yourself on him with a cheeky smirk. It was enough to drive George absolutely mad, the look of your body pressed against his, your body feeling the music, rocking against him. It was making his pulse quicken and his face heat up.

He spun you back around to look him in the eyes, a challenging grin on your lips when you saw the lust in his eyes, only being amplified by the alcohol coursing through his veins. “You are trouble,” George tells you with a laugh in his voice, making you bite down on your bottom lip, pulling the soft flesh in between your teeth. George looked unreal in this moment; his chocolate eyes dark with desire, hair messy from running his fingers through it, t-shirt clinging to every muscle on his arms, chest, and torso. Oh, the things you would do if you were alone.

Daring to make him sweat even more, you pull him down so you can whisper in his ear. “What are you gonna do about it? Punish me?” you ask, tease laced in your voice, before you nibble on his ear gently, causing him to hold back a deep groan. With one hand on his chest, you push him away, giving him the most innocent look you can, big doe eyes that plead naiveté. George shakes his head as he presses his tongue to his cheek, knowing damn well what you were doing. “I’m getting another drink, I’ll be back,” you tell him with a wink. “Don’t go anywhere.”

George just laughs, “Oh, I’m stay right where the fuck I am.” You shake your head and laugh before leaving the dance floor, back to the table where all the liquor was lined up.

Mixed bottles half full scattered around the table as people crowded around as Ron stood on a chair, his Gryffindor tied around his head as he held up a bottle of fire whiskey, pouring the liquor into people’s mouth as they opened them. The sight was enough to make you laugh; Ron Weasley, assuming his brothers’ old positions of bartender. He locked eyes with you and an excited grin appeared on his lips. He held up the bottle as if to say, You want some? to which you stepped forward, titled your head back, and opened your mouth, Ron pouring one, two, three shots worth of whiskey in your mouth. You swallowed and shuddered at the taste, making Ron laugh out loud. “Bollocks, (Y/N),” he laughed out. Ron handed the bottle off to Dean and hopped off the chair, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you walked away from the mass of people wanting a shot. “I saw you and my brother having a good time on the dance floor,” he winked at you as you rolled your eyes. “He’s bloody whipped for you.”

You and Ron stood at the sidelines, watching George spin Ginny around on the dance floor, goofy smiles on both of their faces before Fred ran over and nearly tackled Ginny as she laughed. George looked over to where you stood with his younger brother and smiled softly. He dropped his left eye in a wink as your heart fluttered with glee. That boy would be the death of you.

The two of you hadn’t been together long, maybe three months, but it was quite obvious that George was mad for you. Ron had that much right. George had been infatuated with you for awhile and had been trying to get you to go out with him for months before you said yes. You knew that George had no problem getting dates with girls, but you wanted to make him sweat. Even though you found him insanely attractive and funny and sweet, you pretended like you had no interest in him. You made him work for your first date and work he did. After you said yes to being his girlfriend, George was on cloud nine. No one had ever seen George react like this to anything, but that’s how people knew you were special.

You sighed and looked at Ron, “He’s everything I could ever ask for.” Ron faked gagging as you slapped his arm. But it was all so true. George was a dream come true; you couldn’t believe how perfect he was. He was funny and outgoing and exciting, but also so kind and gentle and thoughtful. George was everything you’ve ever wanted and more. “Hey, you brought it up, don’t blame me!” you pointed a finger in his face as Ron laughed, the two of you continuing to chat and drink, watching the bodies on the floor dance away.

George still remained on the dance floor with his twin and Ginny, laughing and dancing and goofing off. Every once in a while George would look over and watch you, how you spoke to his brother, catching George’s eye every once in a while, you smiling gently at him before going back to Ron. George observed how you spoke with your hands, throwing your head back when you laughed, clutching your sides. He watched as you pulled your glossed lips in between your teeth, nibbling on the sensitive skin. He adored the way your mouth moved when you spoke, the words rolling off your lips like the sweetest honey. Without even realizing what he was saying, he just spoke out to his siblings, “I love her.”

Ginny and Fred abruptly stopped dancing and stared at their brother, faces twisted with both shock and confusion. He was surely drunk and just talking out of his ass, right? George had never confessed to loving a girl before. Fred looks at George and speaks, “Mate, what?”

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. There was a magnetic force that just made George want to stare at you forever and always. The sight of you left him weak, unable to speak. George couldn’t compare you to anyone else; in his eyes, you were the only one. The standard. And he couldn’t believe you were all his. He thanked his lucky stars that he was alive and attended this damned school at the same time you did. “It’s just...she’s just too good to be true, isn’t she?” George sighs, all lovesick. In his mind, he thought of holding you in his arm, feeling like he was in heaven at the touch. Knowing that he was the one who could make you happy and make you feel loved was a dream come true for him. George Weasley was undeniably in love and he fell hard.

“He’s gone soft,” Fred looks at Ginny who slaps his arm. “Ow! Fuck was what for?” he rubs his arm with a hurt look on his face.

Ginny looks at George who’s eyes have not left you. She looks at George with a small smile; seeing her brother so smitten was heart warming to the youngest Weasley. “Are you...going to tell her?” she asks over the music.

George breaks his stare from you and looks to Ginny. “Should I tell her now?” he asks as Ginny worriedly looks to Fred for advice, but he just shrugs. He didn’t know the first thing when it came to a confession this grand. “I don’t want to wait any longer, but I don’t want to do it in the middle of a fucking party,” he starts to ramble. “But, Merlin, I can’t wait anymore. Should I run outside and go pick flowers from the courtyard? Or should I do a grand romantic gesture here?” he continues to ramble on as Ginny’s eyes just widen more and more with each sentence.

But before George can continue listing off ways to confess his love, you appear behind him and grab his hand. George turns around and the sight of you almost makes him faint. You sport a happy smile as you look at Fred and Ginny before turning to George and saying, “You wanna go get some fresh air outside?”

Perfect, George thinks to himself. He doesn’t bother excusing himself from the dance floor. George simply holds your hand tighter and runs off with you as you laugh, calling out a We’ll be back soon! to Fred and Ginny. “Or not!” George calls back before leaving the common room, running down the moving staircase, both of you a laughing, tipsy mess.

When you finally make it down the stairs and outside, you take a deep breath in, enjoying the cool, crisp air and how it didn’t smell of alcohol and sweat like the common room. You walk further into the courtyard, happily sighing as George wraps his arms around you as you giggle, looking up at him. He places a gentle kiss to your lips as you smile. “Hi, Georgie,” you coo up at him. Just the sound of your voice make him feel warm inside.

Breathlessly, he speaks, “Hey, gorgeous.” You can’t help, but let a large smile appear on your face as your cheeks feel hot. The two of you continue to walk, hand in hand, enjoying the others company and the silence and still of the night.

But inside George’s mind, he was screaming at himself to tell you about how he was feeling and how he couldn’t go another second without telling you how much he loved you. But every time he opened his mouth, the moment didn’t feel right. He wanted this moment to memorable. Something the two of you could look back on fondly. But George was nearly about to blurt it out if he didn’t tell you soon.

“George? Baby, are you alright?” you interrupt his thoughts, placing a hand on his cheek. He seemed so consumed with thought and it worried you that something was bothering him.

He shook his head and spoke, “Perfectly alright, my darling.” You smiled up at him before walking over to the bunch of roses that bloomed in the corner of the courtyard. You examined the bush for the perfect one and stumbled upon a fully blossomed yellow rose. Quickly, you plucked it from the bush and skipped back over to George, tucking the beautiful bud behind his ear, making the tall boy in front of you blush a wild shade of red. “You look adorable.”

George’s heart was beating so hard in his chest, you could mistake it for a heart attack. Now was the time. It was now or never. Without further hesitant, George just looks at you and lets the words flow out of his mouth. “I love you, baby,” he speaks, simply.

Although the words were so simple, it all meant so much. When the words fell from his mouth, your heart stops and you feel like this is some sort of dream. Your eyes widen as you look up at George who is smiling like a child on Christmas. The look of love in his eyes was enough to make you reciprocate the same goofy grin and giggle.

George starts, “I love you, (Y/N). Trust in me when I say this. I love you so much. And if it’s alright, I need you. I need you to warm the lonely nights. I need to show you how much you mean to me. Godric, now that I’ve found you and I found love with you, I can’t help but want to spend the rest of my days with you.” His words make tears form in your eyes as love makes your heart swell in your ribcage. “All I want to do is love you. So, let me love you, baby.”

With a breathy giggle, you grab his face and press your lips to George’s, mustering up all the love you had in your body. George is smiling widely into the kiss as you laugh, “I love you.” In between kisses, you keep repeating those special three words to him, only making the boy happier and happier. With one final kiss, you pull away and wrap your arms around him, beaming. “I love you, George. All I want to do is love you.”

He could barely believe that you felt the same way about him. What you had, this love, was real and you felt the same way that he felt. This was everything George could ever want and more. He shakes his head in disbelief, holding your hands in his, as he looks up to the sky and breathes out, “Holy fuck,” making you laugh.

All of a sudden, George jumps up on a bench in the courtyard and yells out, “I love (Y/N)! And she loves me!” You try to shush him, knowing damn well you weren’t supposed to be out of your dormitories at this time of night. “I don’t care! I don’t care who hears me! I’m in love! And she loves me back!” he cries before jumping down and scooping you in his arms, spinning you around as you both laugh wildly. You were in love.

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doeantler · 4 years ago

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Heya I noticed a lot of tags like carrion mother and wolf mother (and same with hyena woman from ages ago but not here) and some of the tags resonate with my Artemis (especially wolf mother), would you be willing to talk about these spirits in more detail? have a good day :)

sure. the Hyena Mother i met before any other, back within the past year that i considered myself kemetic. She arrived in a time of great self doubt, and while She’s rarely a presence i feel nearby as of recent, i think of Her fondly still. She arrived in all the showings of the cave hyenas of the pleistocene - distant and fickle, tucked in dark stone corners with watching eyes, laughing in amusement as much as fear (or, perhaps, spite). though She changed to my path at the time, molding Herself to an inherently “kemetic” manifestation in which She took the name Hetjetset for Herself, i believe the first of what i saw of Her was Her truth, the latter simply a loving excuse to tail me as Her namesake might. She is barbaric, She is gnoll-minded, raised spear and tanned hide and beaten shield and bared teeth, but Hers is a wardance of triumph and unapologetic existence. laughter in the face of death and turmoil, that in doing so they would be intimidated, banished from sight. the overcoming of the corrupt through debauchery and revelry, not as a safety precaution, but as a first chance against what would dare tread on the domain of survival. when the message is not received, when the Hyena Mother’s protective cackles go unheeded, that is when She bites down, and She does not let go. She is bloody and beautiful, much like the Wolf Woman. She is a drunken dance around the raging pyre of all that would harm the cyclic fate and prosperity of life. to live is to bleed, but never should She see you bleed for the wrong reasons. in lieu of bleeding, however, is Wolf Woman. i’m still unsure of how self-actualized She may be, and for a time i wondered if She may have been an automated aspect of myself, but i’ve since stopped putting pressure on the analytics, as i’ve been encouraged to do with what i experience in my spirituality now as a whole. She is feral womanhood and menstrual rage, and turns weeping to howling euphoria. She chases the moon and i do so with Her. Her existence brushes frequently, pun intended or not, against my experiences with what i can easily describe as lycanthropic shifts in mentality, but that’s a larger subject to touch on and i can succinctly summarize it as a simple overarching belief in a personal interconnectedness with animality (i’ve considered ceasing referring to it as anything akin to therianthropy or similar - it’s not specified so much as it is just integral to my spiritual being). when i become the wolf, She is there to run with me, to wail and scream my woes to the open sky or the wet soil, taking up the pain and anger in Her clawed hands and showing me how to devour it, how to land the killing bite. She is bloody and beautiful, much like Hyena Mother. Carrion Mother, though the title may be redundant, is a presence i’ve only come into contact with in spotty, fleeting moments perhaps once or twice in the past, and it has only been within the fast few days as of the time writing this that i’ve actually met Her face-on. as far as i’ve been able to infer in cooperation with a friend, She may likely be an entity that they experienced for themselves for a time, but Her message has far altered between their experience and mine from the start. She is the vultures that perch on electrical towers with wings spread, waiting for their prize on the roadside - not from greed, but necessity. She embodies every scavenger and low-headed, keen creature we typically deem unsettling or unclean, but vultures are Her favored children, the ones who can see the world for what it is, distant and high above. Hers is the soft death, the lovely decay, and i have no doubt She’s here to pay visit to my recent self-reflections concerning my view of death and my inherent, and regretted, fear of it. Her children are not agents of entropy as much as they are harbingers of the cycle’s end. my description of Her energy in discussion may do Her the most justice, and i suppose i can close it there just as well.

“[...] seeing the good and the ugly in it and being able to approach both sides not with escapism, but an embrace, not so much inviting it as simply appreciating it for what it is, and in return, how that reflects in life. cyclical woo like that i suppose. not sure if it ties into all this fungal-spirit confusion i have going on as well but something is definitely banking on both that and my previous fascinations with figures like Nekhbet. taking those notions of the scavenger and survival and reflecting it. sacred domains found in the power poles upon which droves of vultures gather to sun, and the love between life and death, despite how much the land of the living may try to deny its own consort. [...] i’d say it’s like being the poor thing lying on the road and welcoming the vulture overhead as a savior, not an enemy. the peace of mind in the full belly of a chick as your final legacy. promises to always be a part of the greater picture, and not being afraid of that. “ They are all, to me, forces of Nature. Old Things forgotten. perhaps not gods, but certainly within that power. and i love them dearly for it. i hope this is helpful to you, and i thank you for the opportunity to speak of Them.

#ask #tiny-duck #hyena woman #wolf woman #carrion mother

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c6h94 · 4 years ago

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10 songs with lyrics that don’t actually mean what you think they do

These songs aren’t about a breakup, a love connection or a cute date in the literal sense. In fact, many of your favorite rock, scene and mainstream artists share a love for metaphors in their tracks, whether they’re talking about personal struggles or systemic issues.

These songs below cover everything from addiction to even scooter accidents during a competition. See if you know the backstories behind these tracks and realize what the artist really intended to say.

Read more: Here are 10 of the most unexpected collabs to come from 2020 Machine Gun Kelly – “5:3666” (feat. phem)

In his 2019 track “5:3666,” Machine Gun Kelly teamed up with phem to write the ultimate sad song about missing “her.” In this case, every reference to a lady is actually about cocaine. MGK is open about his struggles with addiction and doesn’t shy away from sharing how he sometimes thinks about it but ultimately knows his family, friends and fans need him more.

Green Day – “American Idiot”

We all know that Green Day have chanted “No Trump! No KKK! No Fascist USA!” in the past. So, it’s a little silly to see Trump supporters use this song to describe their opponents across the political aisle. Does someone want to tell them? It’s getting a little embarrassing, and Billie Joe Armstrong wants nothing to do with the former president.

All Time Low – “Dancing With A Wolf”

This song isn’t purely about a toxic romantic relationship. In “Dancing With A Wolf,” All Time Low are also sharing their negative feelings about partnerships in and out of the music industry. It’s a “big middle finger to anyone that’s fucked us over in the past,” Alex Gaskarth said in an interview. “There’s parts about our relationships. We’ve always tried to keep it positive and we’ve seen it pay off.”

Melanie Martinez – “Dollhouse”

Melanie Martinez used her album Cry Baby to illustrate the story of her character of the same name. This track not only discusses Cry Baby’s chaotic home life with an alcoholic mother, but Martinez shared how the deeper meaning behind “Dollhouse” is that “everyone has their problems, and you’re never going to truly see them… Everyone has shit they go through.”

YUNGBLUD – “parents”

Contrary to what you think, YUNGBLUD isn’t telling you to go flip off your parents. Instead, he wants you to tell anyone who has ever made you feel small to “fuck off.” In a Genius interview, he established that you know yourself best, and being authentic is more important than abiding by society’s standards. He just chose “parents” to represent things that make you feel lesser than and societal expectations as a whole.

The 1975 – “I Couldn’t Be More In Love”

If you’re merely a casual listener of the 1975, their ’80s-influenced ballad “I Couldn’t Be More In Love” may strike you as the perfect song for the first dance at a wedding. Unfortunately, the story veers on the tragic side. It’s actually about “what happens when people stop caring” and “trusting your instinct as an artist,” frontman Matty Healy explained in an interview. All in all, this is Healy letting his fanbase know that he’s afraid of losing them and doesn’t want to hurt them.

Oliver Tree – “Hurt”

You may think Oliver Tree was hurt in a relationship, but you would be sorely mistaken. In fact, this singer shared in a Genius interview that he was hurt in a scooter competition when he was 18. His pain stemmed from hitting a pebble on the course and losing his balance. He not only got a few injuries, including two broken wrists, but his pride was a little damaged, too.

Fall Out Boy – “Thnks Fr Th Mmrs”

If you thought that this famous Fall Out Boy hit was about a breakup, think again because Pete Wentz redefined it for us. While he may have left fans with more questions than answers, he shared how “Thnks Fr Th Mmrs” encompasses many meanings. The chorus, he described, is about “FOMO.” Feel free to analyze this one as much as you’d like.

Tyler, The Creator – “NEW MAGIC WAND”

In Foster The People fashion, Tyler, The Creator wrote a metaphorical track about gun violence and toxic relationships called “NEW MAGIC WAND.” His iconically metal performance of the song at the Grammys wasn’t intended for Harry Potter fans. Many music bloggers and writers theorized that he was referring to Photoshop and other objects in the song’s title. However, he disclosed on Twitter that the wand is a gun.

Ashnikko – “Daisy”

This may be the sexy TikTok song you know, love and maybe featured in one of your own videos. However, Ashnikko had much darker intentions. In a Genius interview, she described how she creates a character who feeds into the writing of her songs. In this case, “Daisy” isn’t describing the cute flower entirely. The song chronicles the whole story behind a character of the same name who seduces men and enacts a little revenge. “Daisy is this bad bitch who wears exclusively latex, blue diamonds and these glass platforms with an aquarium in the heel,” she says. “She’s sick, and she throat punches rapists and horrible, horrible people.”

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lustandlordsrp · 4 years ago

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The Hoyden | Isabella

Twenty-Four | The Honble. Isabella Aldwyn Viscounty Cheltenham

Formally or Informally Announced: Miss Aldwyn

Addressed on Formal or Informal Social Correspondence: The Honble. Isabella Aldwyn

Formal Correspondence Salutation: "Madam,”

Informal Correspondence Salutation: “Dear Miss Aldwyn,”

Addressed in Speech: Miss Aldwyn

Referred to in Speech: Miss Aldwyn

Social Correspondence Signature: Isabella Aldwyn

Biography

O1 ━◞ ISABELLA

Being the eldest of the female Aldwyns was always a curse for Bella, specifically because of her personality. Headstrong, independent and stubborn, if you told her to go left, she would go right without a moment’s hesitation. And when she did so, she’d speak with such a sweet and charming tongue abreast mirthful giggles that you’d always sigh in defeat because you simply can’t turn down that look of sheer joy. Known among the household to be as unruly as a wild stallion yet to be broken in, many of the house staff and family members who must manage her affairs are often chasing after her, her body racing as quickly as her mind (and attention span). Upon hearing such comments, Bella wholeheartedly agrees that she proudly has the spirit of a stallion, wild-hearted, adventurous and happy to indulge in what freedom she can taste. She believes very strongly in making her own decisions and following her own path, an opposite sentiment to what she’s been taught all her life and she struggles constantly with the tension of what she selfishly wants and what’s expected of her.

Bella wears her heart on her sleeve, unashamedly expressing her highest highs and lowest lows. Neither does she shy away from confrontation. Especially when displeased or when facing conflict, she will say it as it is, no matter how hard she tries to keep her mouth shut. Her loose tongue has gotten her into deep trouble more than she’d like to admit.

While impulsive, Bella also lacks any sense of self-preservation. At her best, it means she will go above and beyond (perhaps even at her own expense) to those she loves and are loyal to. At her worst, Bella wouldn’t realize she’s in danger if she was looking at a wolf six feet away. (To be quite honest, she’d possibly try and attempt to tame it.) As such, her schemes and fun often get away from her and put her in arguably dire circumstances.

The world outside her tiny universe in the Aldwyn estate always drew bella to it like a moth to a flame. It took time and numerous failed attempts to learn how to sneak out of the house; from taking advantage of the servant exits, to bribing the footmen, to convincing her maid Nancy to accompany her. When she managed to escape from her governess, Bella would explore Cheltenham (or London depending on the season) and became acquainted with as many of the townspeople and the common folk as she could. At times, her brother, Harry, would sneak out from his studies to accompany her. Other times, she would visit her cousin, Simeon, and wrangle his arm to convince him to take her around.

O2 ━◞ FAMILY

Teresa di Santa Maria del Ponte, the fiery ninth daughter of a Marquis in one of the Papal states in Rome, had not intended to marry an English man. But when Philip Aldwyn visited Italia for business and he met the saucy girl, it is as they say – it was history. Teresa, who hailed from a large family, only wished to instill the same warmth in her own family. Teresa was fortunate enough to survive childbirth of nine children – two sons, Edmund and Henry (”Harry”) and then seven daughters. (See more about Bella’s siblings here.)

As Teresa hoped, the Aldwyn siblings were as close as can be. Even as a wee child, Bella liked to follow her brothers, especially Edmund and all his schoolboy friends. But it was Harry who she was closest to. Proximate in age, they grew up as best friends. Harry would let her get away with the most, defend her against Edmund and their parents, and even assist her little acts of rebellion. Of all their family members, Bella believes that Harry is the only one to truly understand her desire to make her own choices and have her own thoughts.

In the same vein, Bella dotes on her younger sisters, often pushing her sisters towards following their passions and to ignore the pending doom of being married off. Her mother and governess, all too aware of bella’s tendency to spoil and lead her sisters astray, are particularly firm in their discipline with the younger Aldwyns.

The Aldwyns had intended to debut Isabella when she turned 20, but after having her heart broken by her first love, she begged her parents to delay her entrance. This was followed by both her Father’s passing, and then Edmund’s passing only years after, which delayed her debut further. Now considered rather late for her first Season, Bella is debuting with her two younger sisters simultaneously. She is more than aware that her Mama is anxious for her eldest daughter to make the first match and set the precedent for her six (6) other daughters. In light of the recent deaths, and the taking up of the mantle by Harry, who had never prepared for the role as Viscount, a secure marriage would assure their old name continued to thrive, despite the recent tragedies.

However, Bella still struggles with Edmund’s sudden and mysterious death. Paired with the loss of her closest brother who must throw himself headfirst in being the Lord Cheltenham, Bella has been left stranded and alone in direction. What Bella is unawares of a dark shifting behind the scenes that may had led to Edmund’s death.

The Aldwyn name is one of old money and old title, passed down from generations. Despite only being a viscounty, their family is known for their wealth and fortune. Bella had never given thought to how the Aldwyns made their means. What she does not know is the unseemly business that her Father, Edmund, and cousin ran – that the Aldwyn fortune is dirty and has been for generations, their family having multiple hands in the shadowy sides of England and beyond. From the talk of the town, she had heard rumours milling about pertaining to the secrecy behind their mass fortune and snippets of her father’s reputation – ones that slandered him, claiming that anyone who spoke dirty of their family would be ridden of. Such rumours were always quashed as fast as they appeared. Neverthless, Bella finds it hard to believe her sweet father and her doting brother who were widely respected in the Ton would be anything but honourable.

O3 ━◞ LIKES, QUIRKS, AND TIDBITS

Growing up in Cheltenham, a region famed for its horse breeding and informal horse racing (soon to be formal in 1815 actually!), meant Bella was no stranger to horse riding. She had been riding with her Brothers since she was old enough to walk and handle a horse. Her favourite past-time is exploring the town and surrounding landscapes with Harry and her horse, Athena. Since childhood, bella always sought to be outdoors, preferring to run around on the grounds or to swim in nearby waterholes. Unfortunately, the older she became, the less she was permitted to do so.

Archery being one of the more active upper class activities that she is ‘permitted’ to engage in passionately, Bella is an excellent archer, and enjoys showing off her bowmanship at any garden or picnic event. Though she would not claim to be as polished in her pall-mall skills, she is irrationally competitive with the game. If she were to identify a reason, she would blame how often she and her siblings played in their childhood.

Having seen the way her parents looked at each other, Bella believes in marrying for love. That being said, the Season is not the most fitting of circumstances, and Bella finds herself more irritated than not after being constantly compared and sold around like cattle. The thought has crossed her mind to not marry as the biggest act of rebellion but finds herself waning in resolve at the thought of how it would affect her siblings. And she also has not put the possibility to rest that she possibly could be as fortunate as her parents and not only fall in love, but have the cards fall into perfect position.

Tidbit 1: Her birthday is February 18.

Tidbit 2: If she is to be courted, the way to her heart is dancing. Bella has every quadrille, every waltz memorized, enough so she can dance the steps in her sleep.

Tidbit 3: Though she lacks the attention span to make the most of her studies, bella does happen to have excellent visual memory, allowing her to play the lyre or the pianoforte from memory in short bouts. (Excellent party trick!) She does rather enjoy music, especially that of the lyre where she is not forced to sit.

Tidbit 4: She has a scar around her neck from an unfortunate horse-riding incident from when she was 12. Consequently, she is never without a large necklace. It is what she is most self-conscious of.

O4 ━◞ SECRETS

One of her dearest friends who she had met from town is one of the girls at her cousin’s whorehouse. There have been rumours that she frequents the place, more than any proper lady should, but not enough to have ever made trouble.

Something happened that scared her and that she’s buried deep in her memory; something that her Father covered up for her before he died. Will expand on this as roleplay goes. Dun dun dun.

#ll.bio #ll.taken #ll.thehoyden

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coffeeandcalligraphy · 5 years ago

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Wicked Child | Feeding Habits #2

Hey People of Earth!

I’m back with another writing update for Feeding Habits (Moth Work #2) at last!

A few things since the last update: this project is 100% going to be a novel and also has a title (Feeding Habits)!

Chapter two has been sort of strange to write as I actually had written a majority of it before starting over after realizing the events I’d written needed to happen later. This is why it’s taken me a while to update on this book, but I’ve finally completed the chapter and am now here to share it with y’all!

Here’s a scene breakdown of this chapter, which is probably the longest chapter I’ve written in years (6300 words). Buckle up, this update is THICC. TW: lots of religious content in this one.

Scene A:

We go through Lonan’s lonely morning routine (lol) that’s interrupted by Anya, a neighbour he vaguely recognizes. She’s there to take him up to her apartment to paint her kitchen as her husband is away and can’t do it, a plan he was not aware of! (Eliza’s voluntold him to hopefully distract him from wanting to help his friend which is outlined in update #1).

Scene B:

Anya dips before the scene starts to grab some extra supplies to make Lonan some sourdough so Lonan is tasked with watching her young son Joey while he tapes up the baseboards. This is where the “wicked child” aspect of this chapter comes in as he compares the wickedness he feels he and others in his life possess to the full innocence of Joey.

Scene C:

Anya gets back from running errands and at first, seems to be a *chill mom* but as she and Lonan interact more, we get to see that something isn’t fully right with her. From some observation, Lonan finally figures out Anya’s husband is actually dead and she’s struggling with grief.

Scene D:

Lonan is back in his apartment, filling up his bathroom sink. We know from Moth Work that one of Lonan’s hobbies is holding his breath underwater, and he does this in this scene to think. In the middle of this ritual, Eliza gets home and speaks to him as she unwinds, reading rather cryptic notes from fortune cookies she’s brought home with takeout.

Scene E:

Unbeknownst to her, Lonan’s not staying for dinner as Anya invited him to her place as a thank you! However this news doesn't break well and the two bicker until they’re both successfully upset.

Scene F:

Instead of going to Anya’s for dinner, Lonan finds himself at a church confessional. He stumbles through reconciliation in a bit of a haze and eventually heads outside where a concerned mother and her two kids ask if something’s wrong. His thoughts from scene D overwhelm him and he eventually sort of gives himself up to the moment in a bit of a chokehold with the sun.

Though this chapter took a while, I’m happy with the threads I introduced and really got to see Lonan’s mind at this point in time--a sort of lonely state of living. There’s also a lot of religion related stuff in this chapter which is always interesting to write as someone who grew up Catholic, and I was surprised at how pertinent these themes are in this book.

Excerpts:

Here’s the opening bit:

The next morning, Eliza leaves two energy shots on the counter for him, along with a slice of sourdough she bought from the bakery across the street. Both sit on a breakfast tray, room temperature from sitting out too long, icebergs of ginger floating along the glass’s surface, butter on the bread gone pallid and spongy. Next to it, she’s left a note, as she usually does: green casserole in the fridge, running low on OJ.

Lonan retrieves the television remote from the nook between the knife block and flicks the TV to life as he drinks the first shot. Gingerroot—and this morning, a new addition, carrot stems—mush against his incisors, and he swallows just as the TV brightens to an image of some amphibian, a leafy looking treefrog. The crank of their calls bulge like each red eye, the familiar husk of narration outlining the workings of mating. Lonan scoops up the second shot with his pinky and the saucer of sourdough with his index finger and thumb, takes both to the couch where he sits.

Classic Lonan (TM) interaction:

He’s mid chewing the stale crust when he opens the door, expecting a package delivery, an unaddressed sympathy card. Instead, a woman stands in the door, her hair damp and smelling like the coconut salve Eliza rubs onto her kneecaps. He recognizes her face in a fleeting, neighbour-like way, someone he might’ve held the door open for, or let step off the elevator first.

“Breakfast?” She points to the crumb stuck to the corner of his mouth.

Lonan swallows the remainder of the sourdough quickly, combing off the crumb with a shallow smile.

“Sourdough.”

“Did you make it yourself?”

“It’s probably from the back of our medicine cabinet.”

The woman laughs at this, though he’s not fully meant for it to be a joke.

Apparently a new motif in this book is the word stunning that both serves as a descriptor for something magnificent/dazzling and the process of subduing an animal (love being heavy handed about this lmao):

She peers at their half-bloody kitchen wall. “You’re doing red?”

“Eliza’s vegetarian.” At the woman’s blank stare, he turns to look at the wall, examining each plane of his throat as hot embarrassment makes him red like the paint. “Her favourite colour. We’re trying something new. Avant garde.” All things he’s heard Eliza say.

“That’s unique. Very. So unique,” she says, adding, “It’s so kind of you to offer some help while you’re in the middle of painting your own kitchen. When Eliza told me about your offer, I danced in my living room. Is that weird? I danced because I’m going to have a green kitchen—a green one.”

Lonan nods, and steps farther back into the apartment, toward the stack of paint rollers, one of many rolls of tape. “Of course,” he says.

“It makes you feel alive,” the woman says. He forgets what she’s referring to, doesn’t know her name, only vague details like the jeweled bangles she wears on one wrist, the shiny cast of hair gel stirruped around her curls, her teeth, white, like the canines of a wolf. But she doesn’t seem to notice, a starriness in her gaze as she says, “The paint. The green. It’s stunning. Isn’t it?”

Anya’s initial dialogue is some of my favourite I’ve written. Probably because of the moon mention lol. Also Joey’s just chillin and I love him for that!!

The woman’s name is Anya, and she lives three floors up. He finds this out at the same time he finds out Eliza offered to paint her kitchen on his behalf, though what Anya says sounds more like “When Eliza told me you’d paint the wall, I could’ve—what is that saying? I could’ve jumped over the moon. I would’ve. The entire thing. All its phases.”

Anya’s got a toddler named Joey. He’s turning two next month, a little boy with a curly halo for hair, two dimples Lonan sees whenever he glances up from his tape-job of the baseboards. Joey eats apple slices dipped in almond butter and watches cartoons with both feet propped onto the couch cushion, too short to dangle down. Ever so often, he laughs, a shimmery sound, like the inside of a snow globe. Lonan half-watches him, as Anya’s asked—He’s good, don’t stress—if he cries, he wants you to turn up the TV—because she’s out of bread flour and insists on making Lonan two loaves of sourdough.

Some Joey:

“Joey’s good, isn’t he?” she asks, her fingers curving around the tape company’s logo. Lonan inhales. Anya smells like Eliza sometimes does, vaguely floral, like jasmine, or cherry blossoms. “Children are little blessings. Powerful little blessings.”

Of course, he should say. There’s no other way to describe a child—he’s a blissful little thing, his only purpose to keep his feet in his two-inch socks, to stare wistfully at a television like it’s telling his fortune in a language of pictures. Of course a child is a blessing—soft cheeks like the belly of bread dough, pinchable, kissable, thumbable, hands dipped into glittery tempera paint and fingers that make chicken scratches that will never be anything but art. Of course, he should say. He knows that, he should say. But Lonan’s vision fuzzes. He sees little of the TV colours projected on the walls like a hypnotic, technicolour exorcism; he doesn’t remember what it’s like to be that small, what it’s like to have his hands expand right in front of him, like seedlings.

Here’s the title drop ft. a rewritten Bible verse (Revelation 21:8):

He wants to believe children are always powerful little blessings that stay good. He doesn’t know why he doubts her. Joey is just this—a blessing on her couch, smiling at a screen because it’s all he needs to do. But he knows better, knows the cowardly, the faithless, the detestable exist, where they all live, and how they all start—as little blessings. He’s met murderers, liars, sorcerers in the shape of his father, sisters, mothers, all the wicked things that emerge from their second deaths unscathed. He doesn’t know what makes a child wicked. If he is one. If he’s been one. How many wicked children he knows.

Eliza hasn’t returned any of Lonan’s phone calls since he tried dialling somewhere between the first and last half of the wall. It’s obvious Anya knows he wasn’t aware of the plan, which is why every few minutes, she states new reasons for her forgetfulness with the time. “Eliza ran into me in the hallway, and I’m so bad at hallways,” she said, while rolling the dough between her knuckles. “So many turns.” Brushing her benchtop with more flour: “Time as a mother is such a commodity. It’s like, what’s the down payment for five minutes alone? But Joey’s worth it. Joey’s always worth it. He’s just magnificent. Can’t stay away from magnificence.”

More interactions I adore:

“You want some OJ?”

Lonan looks up from the paint blankly, focusing on Anya in an embarrassingly slow haze. “What?”

Anya reaches over to the fridge and tugs on its stainless-steel handle. It gives with a haunted sound, a subtle sort of groaning, and emerges with a glass bottle of orange juice.

“OJ,” she says, and shakes the bottle so the liquid froths.

“Oh,” he says. Green casserole in the fridge. Running low on OJ. “We’re low on that.”

Okay sorry but I’m so in love with Anya and Lonan’s interactions lol:

“Where are you from again?” She undoes her apron from the back with one hand. It falls, a lilac clump, onto the tile, and she leaves it there, only nudging it slightly with her toe.

Her eyes are golden too. Everything in her apartment. Even the silver parts are somehow gold. How much she could pawn off for eyes like those, like individual buttons of solid gold. Anya squints, and there the gold goes, focusing on him until she leans forward and plucks a strand of hair from his jaw. It sags with green paint, and before he blinks, she’s clipped it with a pair of kitchen shears.

“You got some paint on you.”

“Oregon,” he says. “Boston. New York.”

“What?”

“You asked where I’m from.”

Anya pockets his hair. He’s sure it’s a subconscious tick—she hasn’t even realized—but still, he wonders what she’ll do with it. If she’ll send it somewhere to get scanned, bagged, tested. How much you can find out about someone with just a nib of hair.

“That’s a lot of places,” she says. “You’re basically transcontinental.”

From her pocket, Anya’s hand twitches. He wonders what she’s doing, if she’s touching the hair, or flaking off its paint, or simply flattening out her pocket.

“Are you going to clone me?” He gestures to her pocket.

Anya doesn’t look.

“I could.”

“Why?”

“You paint walls fast. You’ve got nice hair.”

“Do you collect hair?”

“Just from the people I like.”

We get to see Anya unravel a little here as she and Lonan share a drink:

He’s always been good at watching. This is what he does as Anya pulls a miniature bottle of a deep amber liquid from her fridge along with the orange juice, mixing them together so what he pushes toward him smells like ammonia. She drinks half, an easiness as she swallows, and then slides the glass to him.

He leaves it there for a while. He watches Joey, how he claps when more animals show up on screen and gets quiet during the wrangle of commercials. He’s gold just like his mother, with a gap tooth that matches the man’s who grins in every photo hung neatly on the walls. A face he doesn’t remember, not even in the hazy slots he reserves for what he remembers working the hardware store. No evidence of him anywhere else, the shoes on the front mat only women’s heels or child-sized sneakers. One hook that holds one set of keys. Only the photographs.

“Where is your husband right now?” he asks. One wine glass in the sink. One coffee mug. One saucer.

“Businessman. Very busy.”

“I don’t remember him coming into the store.”

Anya takes another sip of the orange juice even though it’s Lonan’s turn to drink. Anya looks at Joey, a desperate fondness that answers Lonan’s question for him. She looks at him like she’s searching for the face of the man in the pictures, searching because she hasn’t seen it in years.

Anya really unravelling:

Anya’s face is bloated and red, a soreness in her eyes like she needs to blink but can’t. Lonan instinctually reaches for her hand, and it’s then that he notices it—two wedding bands on her ring finger. Her fingertips jolt him, but her palms are warm, the skin there taut, like she’s been clutching it for years.

“I thought the wall would help. Green means new life. Doesn’t it? I read that in a magazine. That it brings new life, I mean. New beginnings. New, new, new.”

Lonan getting existential ft. the first Harrison mention so far tho I’ll probably cut it because I want it to be a little more impactful and also half of this makes no sense oops:

His father is a dead man. Just like Anya’s husband is a dead man. Lonan knows so many dead men. Some that matter more than others, some names he revisits sometimes at the graveyard when Eliza thinks he’s out to run an errand as innocent as replacing a bad container of cottage cheese. He knows of men who are dead but still living, like Harrison’s father who no longer exists as a person in his dimension, but a corpse, hanging around in unnecessary things like a last name, an eye colour. Beyond men, he knows of many other dead things: dead pets, dead street names, dead countries, dead houseplants, dead first ladies.

He knows what a dead father does, what a dead heart does, that these things are meant to die—an inevitable thing; a sort of giving up of flesh, burying, toiling into new soil.

This is basically a monologue:

Lonan is in love with Eliza. He always has been. He always will be. There is nothing better than being in love with Eliza. There is nothing wrong with being in love with Eliza. There is no reason to not be in love with Eliza. Eliza is intelligent. Eliza is driven. Eliza is sensitive. Eliza tries to listen. Eliza knows how to take care of him. Eliza knows how to spell words like zolpidem, wears lipstick in the shade Very Vermillion and is delighted when it rubs onto her teeth. Eliza is lucky. Eliza is hypnotic. Eliza is a holy woman, a sacred woman, a careful woman, a wicked woman.

Lonan gulps water. Too much to keep himself controlled; he sputters, splatters the mirror. He hooks his fingers over his waterline, tugging until water falls out. He paces, chews his palms like Anya did, and steadies himself slowly from the counter to the tile. He is a wicked child. Eliza is a wicked child. Everyone he knows—all wicked children.

“Accept what comes to you each day,” Eliza says, which means she’s opened three of four of the cookies. “That’s truthful. That’s raw. That’s all you need to do.”

Some Eliza dialogue I like in reply to Lonan’s statement that he can’t do things since she bars him from driving:

“You don’t need a car to do things, Lonan.” She stirs her bowl of congee, the plastic spoon scraping against the Styrofoam. “You need hobbies. Like cross stitch. Pickling. Painting neighbours’ walls.”

Lonan and Eliza being Lonan and Eliza:

Lonan secures his fingers around the tin of madeleines and shifts once more, only for her to mimic his movement. They dance like this for a moment—his shuffle left matched by her shuffle left, his step up matched by her own. More of her mascara has smudged from where she unclumped her lashes, a lazy slash of colour like a samurai belt. Even their stares match each other—as he bores through her with a nimble focus like it’ll move her somehow, she does the same.

Here’s a line I like:

As she reddens, he adds this to his list of synonyms for baptism: to tame.

Here’s an excerpt featuring self indulgence and proof I miss Harrison:

The confessional smells rank, like rotting paper and expired cologne, all of its corners seedy with overuse. Scratches mar the fabric he rests his elbows on, like someone clawed into it while reliving their sins, track marks on the floor from a rainy day. He can’t imagine anyone else but him in this small box, caged in by the lattice, mumbling incoherent sins to the priest he hasn’t even committed. Stealing a set of glass eyeballs from a garage sale. Forgetting his wedding anniversary. Missing Easter Sunday mass to go whale watching. He doesn’t sign himself at the right times or speak at the right times or thank the priest at the right times. He lies when he’s asked if he’s lied since his last confession. He mentions nothing of drinking with Anya, of not saving the sheep or the bunnies even though he knew the outcome of their lives without finishing the program. Of being a wicked child, of knowing wicked children, of not knowing the difference between wickedness and innocence, and which one he learned first. He says his name is Luka. He works at a law firm. He’s married to a Harriet, a seamstress or a stock broker or an antiques trader—he doesn’t know. He likes golfing, parcheesi, drinking martinis on yachts. He’s never overindulged, he’s loyal to his woman, he wants three kids and a house with finished floors and no neighbours. He’s a good father, a gentle father, a careful father, no wickedness, just an empty shell of goodness, like a father should be. His father is retired, and visits him on weekends—they play checkers, paint birdhouses, keep a distance but toast with spirits he can’t pronounce. Everything is good—it’s all good, all good. That’s not a sin, the priest should say but they laugh—it’s good to be good. Children are good, marriage is good, fathers are good, everything an iteration of good. By the time his confession is over and he’s well on his way out of the church mumbling I am heartily sorry, he believes his lies are true—he’s absolved into someone new, Luka married to Harriet, three kids, an empty shell, dreamily stumbling through a house with finished floors that’s actually just the sidewalk until a woman passing by with a two small children has to help him sit on the curb.

This image gives me Forever & Ever More by Nothing But Thieves vibes (music video was def inspo):

She asks if he needs something to drink, if he needs someone to call, and emerges with a half-empty bottle of sparkling water and a cell phone. She asks what’s wrong with his eye, and he doesn’t know what’s wrong with anything—with eyes, with children, with sins, with confessions, with baptisms, with orange juice, with madeleines, with wickedness, with practicing how long he can breathe underwater because he knows it’s possible just like walking on it.

One of the children, hair pulled into two plaits secured with pearlescent butterfly bobbles, pokes at her mother and asks if he’s crazy. Her mother shushes her at the same time her older sister shows him a cool trick she learned with a toy convertible. Its wheels whir. Lonan gasps. The girl says, “Even crazy people think I’m gifted,” and wheels the car again. People stop to watch. Church bells gong an elegy he’s sure he’s heard before. The woman’s sparkling water dribbles from his mouth and dampens his dress shirt. Sun eclipses his face and eats at his throat like a parasite, like it knows all the unclean things about him, a watcher, an eyeball, a scorching little thing that bullets through his neck like the tooth of a wolf. The woman shushes her children and asks if he’s got a health problem, a drug problem, any problem, and he could say yes to all three but instead keeps repeating I am heartily sorry, I am heartily sorry. And when she does call someone, no one he knows, he leans against the cool pavement, cranes his neck to the sky, and parts his lips so the sunlight fills his mouth.

So that’s it for this update! I haven’t really been drafting lately, but I hope I can get more of this written because I love sharing!

--Rachel

#writing #amwriting #writeblr #writerblr #writingupdates #mothwork #feedinghabits #fostered

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ship-obsessions · 6 years ago

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The 100 Season 6 Speculations

Okay, so first of all I want to say I’m loving season 6 so far. Give me all of the delinquent interactions. I’m also obsessed with the Bellarke crumbs they are ALREADY GIVING US and how their repressed feelings for each other were shown (although not directly) in 6x02. A while ago I saw on Twitter that a reviewer compared The 100′s 6x02 episode to Motel California in Teen Wolf and now I totally see it. The way the plant toxin affects the delinquents parallels the werewolves being affected by the wolf’s bane... and the focus on the main group of delinquents (specifically Clarke, Bellamy, and Murphy) parallels the focus on the original core 4 in TW (Scott, Stiles, Allison, Lydia). I absolutely LOVED the core 4 dynamic in TW and I’m already loving this trio dynamic between Clarke, Bellamy, and Murphy. Give me more episodes like this! (and maybe add Raven after her and Clarke make up).

That said, I watched the first two episodes when they were leaked, so I’ve been DYING for the next episode 6x03. (Note: I’ve also been streaming them again since they’ve officially aired, so I’ve watched each one like 4 times). Since new content is finally coming next week, I wanted to get out some of my random speculations for what’s coming up later this season even though we literally know so little about this new planet, these new people, the creepy children, etc.. Of course, being curious (like a psychopath), I went through all of the season 6 episodes on IMDb to see what (if anything) it could tell me. I’m sure someone else has probably already done this, but I found some interesting things I needed to put out there...

6x03

We already have a name “The Children of Gabriel” as well as a description (Clarke tries to win over the leaders of Sanctum in order to let her people stay. Meanwhile, Bellamy, Octavia, and Echo discover a new threat while on a mission to retrieve the transport ship.), so we have somewhat of a gist of what is coming next week. I don’t think they will fully go into the backstory of these “children of Gabriel” but we obviously know the geneticist from the flashback was named Gabriel and the actor, Ian Pala, is only listed for 2 episodes on his personal page and one of those is Sanctum (uncredited). So I’d assume this means we won’t get another flashback of him specifically or the origins of his “children”. But I do think when Clarke meets Russell and the other people somehow this backstory/history (at least a shortened version) will be explained. We know that the episode titles are all explicitly mentioned or referred to in the episodes themselves somewhere, so that’s my reasoning there.

However, I noticed one other small thing in the cast list that stuck out as strange/interesting. Sarah-Jane Redmond’s character (aka the Sanctum hostage that tried to hijack the mothership) is named Taylee in 6x02 but Tilly in 6x03. At first I thought it could have been some kind of error (idk) but it’s listed the same way on her personal IMDb actor page. Is she playing twins?? Is there validity to this clone theory I saw floating around and read about in the Hypable review?? Either way, I’m definitely interested in whatever that’s about.

Also, I’m excited to meet JR Bourne’s character this episode! We obviously know he is Russell Lightbourne but after all my research (lol I’m taking this WAY more serious than I ever took school), I’m wondering if he’s not just a descendant of the Lightbourne’s but is actually a clone or somehow has the same consciousness from Mr. Lightbourne (Josephine’s dad) in 6x02 (again saw this in the Hypable article around a similar flame storyline theory since Becca created Eligius tech as well). It’s worth noting that we don’t actually know the character’s real name and Sean Maguire is just credited as Mr. Lightbourne -- no first name. Hmmmmm

6x04

Again we have a name “The Face Behind the Glass” and a short description (Clarke embraces the traditions of Sanctum and tries to make amends for her past actions.), but not much else... (or do we??) This episode is probably where we will see Clarke dancing in the room painting and maybe even the lanterns floating in the sky (ie. Sanctum tradition?) -- I’m thinking several “happy” moments with her. I also have a theory -- going out on a limb here -- that it is where we could see the whole “flashback” scene of Clarke in Mount Weather from the trailer. It’s probably not an actual flashback but some kind of hallucination or psychosis thing again, (or maybe even a dream?) but maybe that is where the title comes from -- she’s literally looking at herself from behind the broken glass in MW’s contamination rooms. OR we’re not quite there yet and it’s referring to the stained glass-looking red window/door thing that Emori was trying to open before going crazy in 6x01.

The kicker for me in this episode’s listing was Jordan Bolger’s credit as Shaw, who we all saw die in 6x01. In what capacity is he coming back? Maybe it’s Raven’s hallucination or even a dream? I could see them showing us her full reaction once she knows what really happened to him, but I’m not sure how or in what way he would come back at some point in the episode (I say “come back” because the actor will actually appear). It will be super interesting how the sci-fi elements work on this new planet. We’ve already seen the eclipse-induced psychosis but what other strange things will occur or happen to our characters? If they are all facing their demons (ie. Clarke with Mount Weather and Octavia with Blodreina) I wonder how those scenes will be played out.

6x05

Again Jordan Bolger is credited... is Miles Ezekiel Shaw back again??? What is going on?

6x06 - 6x07

I didn’t really notice anything super strange in episode 6, but GUESS WHO IS CREDITED FOR EPISODE 7: none other than Chris Browning as Jake fucking Griffin. Maybe this is another flashback or memory or hallucination -- assuming by Clarke.

Note: Madi is not credited to appear in 6x06 or 6x08 so I’m thinking her ��kidnapping” or whatever happens with the creepy person who is holding her captive in the woods happens in 6x07. Or maybe it’s even earlier in 6x05?

6x08

In episode 8, the cast list introduces 2 notable new characters: Josephine VII and Hope. Okay, so with Josephine VII it could be some descendant of the original Josephine Lightbourne in the 6x02 flashback, but it could ALSO be another hint at this clone and/or flame consciousness theory. But Hope... where have we heard that name before? Oh yeah, Diyoza’s unborn child. But Diyoza hasn’t even had her baby yet and in the promo trailers it looked like she was shot (and possibly killed?). Also, this actress who plays Hope is like 6 years old, not a newborn baby. It’s still weird to me though because what are the chances there is another character -- another child, no less -- with that same name Diyoza mentioned she was planning to give her baby. Just seems a little too coincidental to me.

6x09

Okay, I’m going out on a limb here, but THIS MIGHT BE THE ICONIC RAVE SCENE FROM THE TRAILER. Stay with me... I was originally thinking this would happen earlier in the series when I saw this in the trailer, probably like everyone else, but in the IMDb cast list there are 5 “dancers” credited. I mean it is more logical for a rave scene to happen early in the season (because usually all the good things or happy stuff comes in the first half of the season and NEVER this late), but what else would “dancers” be credited for??? The 100 doesn’t do dance numbers LOL. Anyway this idea has me shook because if it is this late in the season, there is a better chance that Bellamy and Echo have ended things by this point and that super short blurry speck in the bottom right corner of the rave dance scene could be Bellamy (you know what I’m talking about). Will they actually make my LIFE and have Bellamy and Clarke dancing at that rave together? Seems way too good to be true, but I had to throw the possibility out there. I mean who knows, my Bellarke-owned ass can always hope for the best.

After the slim possibility of that amazing possibility, here’s a scary thought to consider (sounds kind of like the show itself), this is the last episode of the season that credits Lola Flanery as Madi... WHAT IS GOING TO HAPPEN TO HER. Does whatever experiment being done on her in the promo trailer kill her? Pls don’t hurt Clarke’s smol child.

6x10

So here is where I started low key freaking out because the cast list dwindles DRAMATICALLY for credits this episode. We only have Eliza as Clarke, Shannon as Jordan, and Luisa as Emori out of ALL of the main characters we know and love. Something major has to happen for everyone else to suddenly become absent from this episode. And I’m a little scared to know what that is.

6x11

Okay thank god, the main characters are all back on the credits list for this episode. ALSO there is a new actor credited as young Echo. OMG an Echo flashback?! Will we finally understand who she was and why she is the way she is? Will I even care to get invested in her this late in the game?

Also, IMDb lists that this is the episode Bob Morley directs!

6x12 - 6x13

Our other mains are gone AGAIN from the cast list. It’s back to only listing Clarke and Jordan among the characters we already know. WTF is going on. I need answers NOW. To reiterate, I’m saying that IMDb doesn’t list Abby, Bellamy, Octavia, Raven, Murphy, Echo, Kane, Madi, Miller, or Jackson in episode 10, 12, or 13 (+ Emori in 12 or 13).

I’m honest to god just hoping that IMDb isn’t fully updated with the entire cast list in these last episodes yet -- is that a thing? pls tell me it is -- because if we don’t have a finale that includes Murphy, Raven, or most of all, BELLAMY... I swear to God I will riot. Of course, I’m hoping no one dies (obvi), but now that we know there is a season 7, could J Roth be trying to kill us with some dramatic cliffhanger where Clarke and Jordan are separated from the rest of the group? (PSA: STOP SEPARATING CLARKE FROM EVERYONE). But if so, why would this absence of all of those other characters be TWO WHOLE EPISODES? And during the two part finale of all things. UGHHH my mind is spiraling, someone pls calm me down.

On the plus side, 6x12 lists Antonio Negret as the director for the episode and we all know he brought us the brilliant (yet angsty AF) episode 5x08 last season where Bellamy poisoned Octavia to save Clarke. But if Bellamy isn’t even in this episode WHY SHOULD I EVEN BOTHER CARING.

What’s left that I missed? Probably a lot LOL. I tried going back to watch what I might have missed from the extended trailer but I couldn’t find the video ANYWHERE. It’s like disappeared from YouTube (says it is “unavailable”). What is that about?

Anyways, the scene with everyone together in the house (standing at the bar, shot looking at us) has to be in one of the episodes where all main cast members are credited -- I don’t think it will be the next one so maybe 6x04 or 6x05? Same thought for the Madi/Clarke reunion, I feel like that is in the same episode. I also have no idea when in the season Bellamy is going to strangle Russell with Clarke and Murphy in the room (again my favorite new trio!). And that being said I’m confused on JR Bourne because he was all hyped up as a new character this season but he’s only credited in the next episode 6x03. Does the strangling take place next week? It can’t right? Because Bellamy is off with Echo and Octavia on the other mission and Clarke is the only one in the castle. Also if 6x04 is Clarke trying to embrace the traditions of Sanctum and make amends, there is no way she could do that the episode after Russell (the leader of Sanctum) is killed.

Sorry for the crazy rambling and this long AF post, but I have so much on my mind after this speculation deep dive. I need to just go to bed.

#The 100 #the 100 season 6 #the 100 speculation #bellarke #bellamy blake #clarke griffin #john murphy #sanctum #the 100 6x03 #the 100 6x04 #parallels #teen wolf #teen wolf 3x06 #motel california #wtf did i get myself into #my mind is going crazy #i need the rest of the season now

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ill-skillsgard · 6 years ago

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Hell and All Its Devils - Alex Høgh Andersen/Valter Skarsgård/Bill Skarsgård

Title: Hell and all its Devils

Description: Going to Hell and finding out all the devils are handsome is an eternity you might be able to get comfortable with.

Warning: 18+ for sex/slight DDLG/weirdness/swearing etc.

A/N: The first (and technically only so far) fic I’ve written with AHA in it.

I wanted to break up with him. Alex and I just weren't meant for each other. And before you begin to think ill of him, let me just mention that it didn't have anything to do with something he had done. At least, nothing he had done on purpose. His acting career was starting to take off and I was seeing less of him because he was always abroad. Even though he sent me video messages that I could watch over and over again before I chose to let them disappear, it wasn't enough to fill the lonely void. I had stopped going out to bars because fending off strange men was not something I wanted to do while I was hopelessly drowning the sorrows that had arisen from remembering that my boyfriend was having a blast filming in Ireland, New Zealand, South Africa or wherever. It became obvious to me that going to bars was only fun if you were there to attract mates. So you can see how it seemed pointless for me to attend Ladies Night or Friday three-for-two cocktails when I was tied down to a boyfriend I thought I was just making up in my head. The music reminded me of him and the way he would always dance to pretty much anything that was playing over a speaker. He didn't care if it was country or reggae or gangster rap. Alex always liked to move. In his sweats with his hair up in a bun, walking down a store aisle pushing a shopping cart, at parties sprinkled with TV actors, on the beach when someone walked by with music playing on a cell phone- he cracked a smile and did a dance. Sometimes it was downright exhausting trying to keep up with his high energy for an entire day but when those blue eyes darted at me and scanned me from top to bottom and concluded with a delectable lick of his lips, I couldn't help but melt in my panties a little. That's why it hurt so bad to envision the scenario of me sitting him down after he had come home to explain why I couldn't be with him anymore. All those times I watched him shake his ass while we were shopping for groceries or how he looked when he got home from the gym still pumped and rosy from his efforts weren't enough to quell the raging fact that I was so desperately alone when he left for his work. I thought I could swing it. I thought I could date an actor but it was less glamorous than wrap parties and helping him prepare for auditions by reciting lines with him. It was trying not to beg him to fly out to see me on an off day of filming when I knew he wouldn't be able to stay awake through the time change anyway. It was putting on his show just to watch him speak. It was me thinking about how invariably sad I was when there was nobody beside me in bed. Then one night, Alex fucked me and everything changed. And when I say "everything" I mean everything. Alex insisted that he would get a car home from the airport so that I didn't have to pick him up. When I told him that I didn't have to and that I wanted to pick him up he scoffed and said, "No, no, no, you're not going anywhere. Just get yourself ready for me. I have a month's worth of cum to dump inside you." "You're lying," I said. He laughed heartily. That laugh that I loved so much. "What do you mean?" "You sent me a snap of you jacking off last week," I reminded him. "Oh, yeah... Well, that doesn't count." "It counts." "Fine! I have a week's worth of nut to bust inside of you, okay? Get excited. Daddy misses his tight... Fucking gorgeous little pussy." "Oh my God! What did I tell you about referring to yourself as Daddy?" "Sorry! Sorry. I know you don't like that." "It creeps me out." "Hey, but can you actually do me a favor?" He asked. "Yeah." He dropped his voice low and rumbled, "Send me a picture of it." "No!" "Why not? Please! Please... I want to see. Get me hard before I even get home." "I have to... Shower. You'll see it soon enough." "Never soon enough, baby. Never. Okay, I'm going to let you go and I'll see you in half an hour, yeah?" "Yeah." "All right, bye." When he came through the front door hauling only one suitcase with him I knew that meant that he was only staying for a little while because when he had initially left he had two cases with him. Nevertheless, I was elated by his warm presence. Every time I watched those bright blue eyes light up I couldn't believe that they were sparking for me. "Come to me. Come to me, now!" He threw his arms open and I bounded into them. He lifted me and whirled me around like I weighed nothing and when he kissed me I instantly turned to mush in his arms. The overwhelming glow that he gave off made me forget all about how much I had been thinking about breaking up with him. How could I? He kissed me deeply with both of his hands on my cheeks. His dark hair was down and I ran my hands through it. "Go on and get upstairs. Get naked. I'm going to put a hundred babies inside of you." Alex came vaulting up the stairs and met me before I had a chance to take off all my clothes. Luckily he was there to help and soon I was stripped down to nothing while he was still wearing jeans, a long-sleeve, and his denim jacket. I pulled at his clothes but stood back after he dropped his jacket on the floor and took off his shirt. He must have been really keeping up at the gym while he was away because his body looked just as cut or even more so than when he had left. It was another thing about us that was different. Alex liked to keep in really good shape, or rather, he had to for his role even though I knew he would still be a gym rat without the acting career. I didn't much care for working out even though I tried. Alex had been a good trainer at first but I never kept up with it while he was away. He could always tell how badly I had been slacking whenever he would convince me to work out with him. He could run around the block ten times easy and I could hardly make it around twice without panting like a lost mutt. He didn't care if I worked out or not though. He tossed me on the bed and climbed up between my legs anyway. His evil tongue slithered out after he pressed a few kisses to my legs. "Baby, can I ask you something? And you're allowed to say no and I expect that you will but... Fuck... Would you... Nah, nevermind. Some other time." I sat up slightly with pause, "What? What is it?" He shook his head and continued to trail kisses down my inner thighs. I pulled my leg away from him and he laughed as he tried to catch me. "It's nothing. Nevermind!" he said, flashing teeth with a cheeky grin. "It obviously isn't nothing if you brought it up now. What were you going to ask?" Alex rolled his eyes but continued to giggle, "I just... Fuck, I get so... Horny on set. I can't get off to porn. I mean... I can but it sucks. I was sitting there one night thinking how great it would be to have you up on my screen whenever I wanted... Doing dirty things for me." "Alex... I send you videos all the time." "I know but I usually don't get them until morning when I have to go to the gym. Then they disappear. You should send me ones that I can keep." I swallowed hard. The idea of sending each other explicit videos had been discussed several times and we always drew the same conclusion; although we trusted each other, we both recognized the type of damage one could do with a single video and since Alex was starting to get recognized everywhere, he particularly paled at the thought of a video of him stroking his cock getting leaked across the internet. I completely understood. "We talked about that-" "-Let me make a movie." Crossing my arms over my exposed chest, my look soured and he scoffed again at me, nudging my knee to indicate he was just kidding around. But I knew he wasn't kidding. The mischief in his eyes was undeniable. He was a good actor but I could tell when he was withholding the truth just by how playfully he decided to approach a touchy subject. "See? I told you it wasn't worth bringing up." "What do you mean 'a movie'?" I interrupted. "Like... You know. A video of you and me. Just a little something to keep me going when I'm away for so long. Something that can hold me over until I can afford to take you with me." Another thing about Alex that bothered me was how easy it was for him to charm me into doing things that I knew were bad ideas. He had this innocent young pup look that was just a ruse for a snarling wolf of a dark side and I usually didn't recognize I had been coaxed until it was too late. He pulled out one of his nice cameras and popped in a memory card that had been tucked away in the same camera bag. "I'll have to get you to send me it later," he said with an unrelenting smirk of victory on his handsome face. "Why can't you just use your phone?" I asked. "Because! I want full HD. I want to see every fucking drop of my cum leaking out of your pussy in 1080. If we're going to do this, we might as well do it right, yeah?" Trying not to blush, I shoved my face into the pillow until he had his camera all set up. When I looked up, the lens was pointed right at me, mounted threateningly on a tripod that had been tucked away in his half of the closet. "No! What the hell? Alex! I can't do this with that pointed at me so aggressively!" Alex ignored my complaints and went about making sure the framing was to his liking. He surveyed the screen and made adjustments all while looking completely enraptured in his work. This was an art project for him and himself. He got behind the camera again and unzipped his jeans with one hand while gently setting the angle of the camera with his other hand. "Do me a favor and start playing with yourself for me... Please?" When I watched his hand disappear into the front of his pants it was like a trigger that wiped any memory I had had of denying him what he wanted. I leaned my back against the cushioned headboard and spread my legs, reaching down the center of my body to stroke my clit to life while I watched him bite his lip and rub his cock in his jeans. "Oh, that's nice, baby, yeah. That looks good." "Does it?" "Yeah. Fuck yeah," he hissed. "Get it all nice and wet for me. Get it nice and wet for Daddy." I bit back what I wanted to say to him and just did as I was instructed because he started slowly pushing his pants down and that was what I ultimately wanted whether there was a camera pointed at me or not. My boyfriend fucked me like an animal, in all positions and ignored every rule we had ever set for each other. We started off in classic style with me slowly licking at the head of his cock while up on all fours as he stood at the bed's side edge. I missed him so much that I was moaning around his length in no time. Snapping his hips back before he got too close, he smiled and pushed my hair out of my face. "Oh my, that's a nice mouth," Alex nodded at me, slapping my pouting lips with the underside of his cock. "Daddy likes." He wasn't supposed to call himself Daddy and I wasn't supposed to just grab his balls and cause him to gasp but we were both breaking rules. When I had them firmly in my grasp he shivered. "What did I tell you about that?" He whispered so that the camera couldn't pick up his voice. "I don't remember, Daddy." That demonic giggle waltzed from his throat as he grabbed my wrist and squeezed hard so I let go. "Turn around, now. Show the camera your ass. Go on. Get down closer. Closer to the end of the bed. Yeah, that's right." I don't know why I was so pliant to his command but I did what he said and he climbed onto the bed after me and I could feel the entire corner sag beneath his weight. With both his hands on either one of my ass cheeks, he spread them apart and gave one a firm slap that echoed off the walls of our bedroom. "Good evening, Mister Andersen. I'd like to present to you something that I'm sure will get your cock automatically hard. This gorgeous set of holes that this incredible young lady has gifted to you and you alone to fuck. Tonight, I'm going to do all sorts of nasty things to it for your viewing pleasure. So sit back and enjoy the fucking view, my good man!" A laugh threatened to escape my mouth after I had realized that he was narrating homemade porn to his future self. It was a ludicrous idea but nothing was too silly for Alex to try once. He continued to slap and pry me apart, looking at me and then back at the camera, nodding with a smirk as he went to work. I tittered when I felt his mouth suck a nice sloppy kiss on the right side of my ass before switching to the other side. "Already so wet," he mused, slapping my slit a few times for emphasis. "Listen to that... Pure fucking wetness just for me." Instead of slapping me some more he dipped his middle finger between my slick folds and gently into my opening just for a moment. When he took his finger out he popped it into his mouth and moaned with extra drama projecting his voice. "So good. Is there anything better than fresh, sweet pussy juice?" We started the night with a plan and by the end of it, I think the camera's battery had run out. He had been playing with me all night long and well into the early morning. When I looked out the window with my make up crusted in the corner of my bleary eyes I could see a watery screen of the pale violet morning sky driving the dark back down into the horizon. Alex and I had fucked for hours and the sheet was spotted with various stains from drool, his cum, my cum, and our sweat. We passed out with his cock still inside of me, no pillows and the camera still mounted on the tripod.

~*~

Our little romp into the amateur porn world was mind-numbing enough to make me forget that I had ever thought about breaking up with him. Even when he left I stopped wallowing in the tars of my self-pity. Life seemed to return back to normal and I could maybe handle him being gone for weeks at a time. I didn't want to lose him. I had been stupid to question my devotion to him. But I'd like to remind you that I did say that everything changed. He called me one night before bed. It was the afternoon for me but for him, it was nearly midnight and he had admitted he was bored in his rented apartment, alone and craving a good old-fashioned orgasm before going to sleep. His voice sounded weird on the phone like he was doing a bit and making his voice lower and more resonant. "Why are you doing a character right now? Or are you starting to lose your voice?" I asked him as I made my way upstairs to take the memory card out of the camera so I could send the file to him using a card reader. "I'm not? What are you talking about?" He asked. Even his accent sounded different and I was certain he was joking around and changing his voice just to be an idiot. I laughed it off but when he started telling me about something else it honestly sounded like I was talking on the phone to a stranger. "Seriously, Alex, what the hell are you on? Why does your voice sound like that?" "Alex? What the hell are you on? That's not my name. Why are you being weird? This is my voice." "No, it's not! Why are you doing a character right now? I thought you wanted me to send you this fucking video?" "I do! You're making it weird!" "No, you are!" "Just send me the video for fuck's sake! Or get on FaceTime and show me your pussy." I shook my head as I popped the memory card into the reader and stuck it into the computer. "It's going to take a little bit. The file is huge." He laughed and it wasn't his normal laugh. "Yeah, we fucked for hours, didn't we?" "Are you there with your buddies pulling a prank on me? Because it feels like that's what you're doing right now." "Babe... I'm literally alone in my apartment." "Put Alex on the phone." "Who is Alex!?" "My boyfriend!" "I'm your fucking boyfriend! Who the fuck is this Alex guy you're talking about?" I stared at my cell phone screen and saw the name Husband<3 at the top of the screen with a picture of us together in the mountains when we went to Norway but something was extremely off. It wasn't Alex in the picture anymore. It was somebody I had never met holding me, smiling with me. The voice filtered loudly through the speaker trying to get my attention and I scoffed. "Okay, Alex... This is the most elaborate prank you have ever pulled. You honestly got one of your buddies to photoshop our picture from Norway together? I'm impressed." "Babe... I'm seriously starting to get angry. You need to stop calling me Alex. It's getting really weird." "Then what is your name then, huh?" I humored him. "It's Valter, you idiot." "Well, Valter. I have no fucking idea who you are or how you got my boyfriend's phone but this has gotten a little out of hand. Please put Alex back on the phone." "Stop it. Now," the voice said angrily. "You stop it!" "I don't know why you're being such a brat but I'm definitely not in the mood anymore. Forget I asked about the video at all. Goodnight." I stared at my phone in awe for a long time. Each time the screen would time out I would touch it and bring it back to life so I could stare at the picture of me and the stranger I had never met before in my life. The photoshop job was legitimate. I honestly could not tell that there had been any tampering at all and I half expected to get a phone call right back from Alex laughing his ass off for having fooled me so hard. The phone call never came but when the file transferred from the memory card to the computer I was hit with an even harsher blow of confusion. The video was definitely of me from the other night, naked on the bed, standing on my palms and knees, swirling my tongue all over the head of someone's cock I had never met before in my life. It was the same guy from the picture. He was tall- much taller than Alex and blonde. I covered my mouth when it had gone dry from falling open. Watching the video was equal parts disturbing, striking and bewildering. I shook my head a dozen times to make sure I wasn't having a crazy dream. The audio was real and I remembered everything that happened on the screen as it had happened that night only what I was watching was not me and Alex. It was me but the man with me was somebody I had never crossed paths with in my life. Alas, he was fucking me in all of the same positions that Alex liked to fuck me in. I clicked up the volume and heard him saying the same words that Alex said. I knew I was really losing it when, on the screen, he made me clamp my legs together and turn over on my side with my ass so depravedly displayed to the camera. The man in question used one huge hand to part me so he could slide his cock into my opening slowly and deliberately, showing his future self how good it felt by keeping my cheeks separated, moaning each time he pushed in and pulled out. The blond man leaned over to me and said, "I'm going to fucking come so hard inside that nice little pussy. You ready for it?" I watched myself twist my neck to face him and he kissed me as he pumped himself into me. I moaned and he nodded with a smile breaking our kiss. He looked at the camera and gave my ass one more satisfying smack. "She said I could come inside of her. What a nice, pretty girl. Are you a nice, pretty girl?" He asked me. "Mm-hmm." "Louder, for the camera, honey." "Yes." "Yes?" "Yes, Daddy." His head fell back as his teeth sank into his plump bottom lip. Lips that I couldn't remember kissing even as I observed myself doing so on the computer screen. I was startled by the ringing of my phone again. It was his ringtone. A song I had picked especially for him. It was a tune that he loved to dance to and that's why I had chosen it. But when I looked at the screen and saw the picture of us with the name Husband<3 displayed across the screen I felt my heart stop beating and the resulting lack of blood made it feel like I was being choked by an invisible hand. In the video he was thrusting into me hard, telling me how close he was to coming and that he wanted me to help him by squeezing my pussy around his cock as best as I could. He loved that. He had always loved that. His vocality during sex made for some memorable nights and had opened me up to try new things with him if it meant I got to hear more of his sweet, filthy words. When I answered the phone he didn't say anything right away. He only sighed as we both sat in silence listening to each other's breathing. "You going to apologize to me? Because you know I can't sleep when there's a rift between us." Tears started bubbling up behind my eyes. Where had my Alex gone? How was it possible that I was watching somebody else pulling his cock out of me followed by a thick trail of white cum? He bit down on my left ass cheek hard and I squealed in the video. I got up and went to the full-length mirror in our closet, still on the phone with him as I pulled down my pants to see if there were any remnants of bruises left where he had maliciously bitten me. Nothing but more confusion poured over me when I saw the purple splotch that had lightened since that night but still remained in the exact spot he had sunk his sharp teeth into. "What's your full name?" I asked. He scorned the question with an impatient scoff. "Valter... Skarsgård. You want to say it back to me?" "Valter Skarsgård." "Need any other verification?" "Can we FaceTime?" I asked. "Yeah, one sec." I accepted the call and the face that appeared on my phone screen definitely belonged to the man in the video who was repositioning me so the camera could watch him fucking me from behind. It was not Alex even though my phone so prominently said my almost-husband was calling me from the number I had saved as his long ago. As I watched the face on my phone's screen, I felt a heatwave of shyness dry up my tongue. I didn't know what to say to the stranger on the other side of the call. And it wasn't as though he was ugly or even slightly unpleasant to look at. In fact, he was quite beautiful, with light green eyes and a cataclysmic pout the likes of which I had never seen. His hair was much shorter than Alex's but still long enough to fall over his face in blonde pieces. "Are you okay? You're really starting to freak me out," he mumbled. "I don't know if I am. I don't know." "Well just... I don't know either. Forget about the video. I'll just watch it when I get home next week." "Okay." "Are we good?" He asked. "Uh... Yeah. Yeah, we're good," I lied. "All right well... Guess I'm going to sleep now. I'll text you in the morning." "'Kay," I whispered. "I love you." "I love you too." When the call ended I ransacked the closet to find the shoebox full of photos I had kept with the intention of making a scrapbook but had subsequently given up on. Sifting through dozens of glossy pictures, I found all of our photos from the times we had traveled together and on nights out with our friends. Polaroids of me sitting on his lap or kissing him. Even my favourite picture of us sticking our tongues out at each other was devoid of all things Alex. I logged into my social media and saw in a relationship with Valter Skarsgård as a descriptive line in my profile. When I clicked on his page, his profile picture was of us together. In the closet, his clothes were all the same but in different sizes. His shoes were bigger, his pants were longer, his sweaters smelled different. Not unpleasant, but different. Why my brain decided to give up and go crazy on me then was a mystery that had me calling in sick for work and contemplating checking myself into a hospital. By the time he came home from shooting, I had fully accepted that I had gone batshit insane. He walked through the door and smiled at me. He was at least a full five inches taller and his face matched the one I had watched in our home video. "Hey, crazy. Did you miss me?" I cracked an uneasy smile. The last thing I wanted to do was alert him to just how violent the storm of perplexity had gotten within me. "Of course." "You're not still convinced that I'm not me?" "No... I can see that you're most definitely you." I didn't know what else to say to him and when he opened his arms for me to walk into I did just that and was scooped up lovingly like we had known each other for years. He kissed my cheek first and then my lips and I kissed him back even though it felt wrong. What I wanted to do was ask him what the fuck he had done with Alex and how he had managed to paste himself into every little detail of our domestic life together. Where was my blue-eyed, brown-haired Viking? Who was this tall, Swedish giant in his place? His taste was different, his mannerisms were different, his moods were different. Everything was just... Different. Surely I had somehow lost my mind along the path of severe mental anguish that had been carved out by the dread of being alone. Maybe it was my punishment for thinking about breaking up with him. No, surely something so mundane as the parting of two humans wasn't enough to cause such a splice in my matrix. There was something going on and I had a feeling it would reveal itself to me when it wanted to. Settling into my new life was surprisingly easy and one day I woke up and had already accepted that this was life and if nothing else fell into disarray then I might as well go about my days as normally as possible. Voices didn't come to me and I didn't relent into depression or even find it hard to get out of bed each morning. It was as though this new life had invigorated me. Valter was sweet to me but he wasn't without his bitterness. I found him to be playful but impatient, enthusiastic but sarcastic. His humor was a little darker but everything about him was physically brighter from his head of shining gold hair to his perfect nose and his broad shoulders to his long, thick legs that boosted him up much higher than my reach. He came home and promised to stay home for at least two months over the Winter. Filming had concluded and he was putting all other endeavors on the back burner so that we could spend time together. I was in love, renewed. There was a morning before we were scheduled to fly back home from our vacation in Cuba. I thought I had eaten something I shouldn't have but the feeling only lasted for a little while and then came back the next day on the plane. I managed to get up to vomit in the bathroom and sweat it out away from curious eyes. I had never experienced air sickness before. "You okay, babe?" Valter asked when I got back to my seat, big round eyes shining up at me from the aisle seat. "I think so. I don't know. I think I'm going to try to nap." "Yeah, you do that." He held my hand the entire flight home and then eased me through the airport after we landed. We drove home while I burped and started to feel aches in my muscles. After a week of feeling crummy and vomiting every day, Valter made a suggestion that smashed a whole bunch of sense into my head all at once. "Babe what if you're like... Pregnant? I don't know anything about that but your symptoms sort of match up." Blinking in sudden realization, I rose up sitting in the bed as Valter whirled around to face me in the computer chair, legs spread far apart, a look of curiosity on his face. "Oh... Oh shit. You might be right. Valter... What if I'm?- Oh, God." Piling into the car, we set off quickly to the drugstore to buy a couple of pregnancy tests. Valter was concerned and I could see it on his face but there was also a mix of something else. I sensed adventure and anxiety. They were playing Uptown Girl by Billy Joel over the speakers in the pharmacy and Valter didn't even crack a smirk at it or start to gently bop along to the music. Valter wasn't Alex. Our impatience led us to a coffee shop busy enough for the clerks to not notice us rush into the washroom together but not so populated that anybody came to disturb us by knocking. "Turn around. Turn around!" I exclaimed after he had locked the door behind us. "Okay!" He threw his hands up and pivoted on the heel of his sneaker. "Read the instructions first!" "I know how to use one of these, Valter." He turned back around glaring. "Oh, do you, now? I wasn't aware that you had ever been possibly pregnant before!" "I helped my friend take one in high school! Now, turn the fuck around so I can piss on this stick!" A gentle hint of a smile twisted the corners of his lips as he turned to face the wall again, hands behind his back as he rocked forth onto the balls of his feet. In the process of taking the pregnancy test, I peed on my own hand a little and whined when he made fun of me. I set the test down on top of the toilet paper dispenser and washed up while we waited with clenched lungs for the results to appear in the form of two lines or one. After I had dried off my hands and discarded the paper towel, Valter turned to me with a look of gentle unease. He grabbed the lapels of my coat and dragged me into a tight hug. "What if you're pregnant?" "I don't know." "Oh my God... What if I put a baby inside of you?" Laughing heartily, I nuzzled into the black wool of his coat and replied, "I don't know! I guess... We'll have to figure that out together." We both walked out of the coffee shop washroom hand-in-hand with the looks of a couple that had just realized their lives were about to change forever. I didn't know then that being pregnant would become the least of my concerns.

~*~

Valter came to as many appointments as he could during the weeks he was home. He was scheduled to fly out to LA to start filming after Christmas which was swiftly approaching. We didn't tell anybody about the pregnancy because we didn't want to jinx it. I even requested that he stay behind in the waiting room the first few times I went in to see the doctor. He didn't mind and held my hand until my name was called. Before I got up, he pulled me gently to kiss me. It was surprisingly caressing and deep and when he pulled back he was smiling. "I love you," he told me. "I love you too, booger." The doctor examined me and claimed that everything seemed to be progressing nicely and if I had no concerns to tell her about then I did not have to come back for at least a month. I contemplated telling her about the strange mental break down I had had months prior but it seemed pointless to bring it up then after I had already accepted it and moved forward. Valter wasn't in the waiting room when I left the office but there was a different man sitting in the seat he had been sitting in. He was the same height and looked up at me with these wildly striking eyes that made me recoil. They just bore into me and a happy smile stretched over his lips. "So? Everything okay?" I looked behind me to see if the man was talking to somebody else but it was just me and the receptionist out of view behind her desk. "Excuse me?" I asked him. I turned the corner to see if Valter had moved seats or perhaps had left to find a washroom. "Babe... What are you doing?" He asked. "What the fuck... I don't know you." He laughed, stood up and approached me. I backed up a little bit and bumped into a chair. My reaction confused him and he paused for a moment to give me an odd look. "You want to get going?" "I'm waiting for my boyfriend. Who are you?" He cocked his hip and jeered. The receptionist looked up from her desk and didn't attribute any concern to my exchange with this guy. "Well, I guess you're going to be waiting a while then because I'm leaving," the man with brown hair and wicked eyes shrugged. My gaze followed him as he left and it wasn't until I watched him cutting through the parking lot towards our car that I decided to start following him. "Um! Um! Excuse me! What the fuck are you doing?" I yelled after him as he unlocked our car and got into the front seat. He rolled down the window and threw up his hand. "What the fuck kind of bit is this? What are you doing?" "What are you doing? Get out of my car!" "Babe... This is my car." "No! My boyfriend bought it!" "You want me to show you the registration there, officer?" He jabbed. Reaching to pull open the glovebox, he pulled out the papers and handed them to me. I scanned the document and felt this horrible lump of bile rise up my throat. The car was a 2017 Chevy Impala registered to Bill Skarsgård. "Skarsgård?" I asked aloud. "Uh, yeah! You know... The last name our child is going to have? The last name you might get if your crazy fucking ass decides to marry me one day. Now, please... Get in the fuckin' car, babe. I'm starving. Let's go get falafel or something." The car ride was painfully silent and when we got our food we ate quietly. This Bill guy kept looking at me like I had two heads, which was fine because I'm certain that's how I was looking at him. The strange part was; he reminded me of Valter at certain angles and in different lights. I scrambled up the stairs to our room when we got home and threw open the closet door to start rummaging around my shoebox full of pictures again. If I could put into words the level of mystification, I would, but as I saw all of the shots of me with Bill, there was no way I could describe the feeling of panic in my gut. Why was this happening again? Where was Alex? Where was Valter? Why was I the only thing that was constant? Bill found me on the floor in the closet and shook his head. "Man... Pregnancy hormones are the real deal, huh?" Tears squeezed out from the corners of my eyes and I stared up at him. "Why is this happening to me?" "Why is what happening?" "This? Why are you different again?" "I'm not different. What are you talking about? You're really starting to freak me out! Did that doctor drug you or something because you're acting so weird!" "If you knew what I was going through right now you would understand." "Well, if I could be pregnant for you then I would!" "It's not that!" "Then what is it?" He bellowed. "I don't know! I can't explain it without sounding like a crazy person!" He knelt down beside me and wrapped me up in his arms. His scent was different. He smelled like high-end cologne. His shirt felt like expensive material. He was definitely not Valter yet somehow he knew me and knew that I loved to have the back of my neck rubbed and pinched. "I know things are changing really fast and all the time but it's going to be okay," he whispered. There was no trace of Valter in his murky green eyes. There was even less Alex. If there wasn't a mirror showing the reflections of me sitting on the floor and him kneeling beside me I would have said there was no trace of me left either. Yet I was there and so was Bill which was as much a comfort as it was an abstruseness that boggled my mind and shook me up even harder than last time. Exactly which part of Hell I had wandered off into escaped me. All I knew was that the devils there were beautiful enough for me to succumb to the gaslight. I slumped into his arms and let my tears absorb into his shirt as I accepted my new fate again. "I love you." "I love you, Bill."

#bill skarsgård fanfiction #bill skarsgard fanfiction #valter skarsgård fanfiction #valter skarsgard fanfiction #alex høgh andersen fanfiction #alex hogh andersen fanfiction #fanfiction

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skamelias · 8 years ago

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BETTER GET USED TO IT

10.3 Torsdag 7.12.17 18.23

(((Cobrastyle-Teddybears)))

“Ugh, missed again? Come on Elias, get your head in the game,” Yousef scolded him.

Elias had his arms outstretched before he dropped them to his sides once more, almost rolling his eyes at the seriousness with which Yousef was taking this game. He was so competitive when it came to Sana. Why couldn’t he just realize she was better than him at basketball?

Adam laughed loudly next to him, “Nice High School Musical reference.”

“Sorry coach, I was distracted,” Elias said grinning widely.

Mikael gave a sly smile as he looked at Yousef and said, “Are you going to start breaking out into song and dance any moment?”

With Sana hovering in front of him, Yousef faked right and then shot left as he threw the ball over to Adam.

Adam tossed Elias the ball midair and he caught it swiftly, dribbling before he passed it to Mikael, closer to the net. Glancing over, he saw Laila winking at him as she smirked and stole the ball from him, dribbling up to the hoop before sinking a layup.

Laila had come over to the Bakkoush household to play some basketball with the guys and she and Sana were currently kicking their butts. He would never admit it though, he couldn’t give them the satisfaction.

“She shoots, she scores,” Laila shouted, raising her arms above her head and high fiving Sana who smiled back at her in triumph.

“I thought you said you weren’t good at this?” Elias managed, in disbelief and amazement.

Laughter bubbled through her. “I was just trying to be humble. I’ve won multiple championship titles at my past schools,“ she said somewhat shyly.

Elias didn’t think it was possible to be even more impressed with her, yet here he was. He shook his head to refocus on the game at hand. He would be lying if he said he didn’t want to still win, despite how skilled the girls were.

“Game on.” Elias said in a brash, too overconfident manner.

They met in the middle as Mutta dribbled the ball between them, looking for any available openings to shoot from. He settled for passing it to Mikael who dodged Sana’s steal attempt and ran straight forward, driving the ball into the net, making a faint ‘whoosh’ sound.

Sana rolled her eyes and crossed her hands over her hips. “You got lucky…once. It won’t happen again.”

“Ooh what’s the matter, is Ms. Big Shot over here worried I’ll take her title?” Mikael teased.

“No, more like I’m worried you’ll hurt yourself. Check it.” Sana said with all the confidence of an Olympian Gold medalist.

She motioned for the ball and went to stand behind the 3-pointer line at half court. Raising her arms above her head at a precise angle, Elias watched his sister, position the ball in her hand. As she threw it, he saw it sail through the air before passing neatly through the hoop, barely grazing the net.

Yousef nodded enthusiastically raising his fists in the air, shouting “THAT’S MY GIRLFRIEND!!! RIGHT THERE!!” He pointed at her in pride and Sana beamed up at him, taking a mock bow.

“Wow, Yousef what the hell?! Whose side are you on?” Elias said shaking his head.

After a few celebratory moments on the girl’s side, Adam started off with the ball this time, dropping into a semi-squat. He locked eyes with Mutta who stood a few feet away and nodded at him. No doubt nonverbally communicating what he was going to do.

He bent low, dribbling close to the ground before he took off straight towards the hoop. But just as he was passing to Mutta, Laila swooped in and grabbed the ball from out of the air, a competitive glint in her eyes.

She dunked the ball into the net, hanging onto the rim for a few seconds before touching back down to the ground.

The boys collectively groaned as Laila gained another two points for her and Sana adding to a grand total score of 36 to 8 in their favor.

“Do you want to call it? I think we pretty much defeated you guys.” Laila said, tucking the ball under her arm, panting slightly.

“This is like a whole other side of you, I’ve never seen before,” Elias said, gazing at her in wonderment.

Laila shrugged and grinned despite herself. Sana gave her another high five and went in for a post-game congratulatory hug.

“I can’t believe we were completely destroyed by TWO girls,” Adam complained.

“I can,” Yousef said, wiping the sweat from his brow and winking at Sana.

“You better get used to it, with Laila on my team, we are unstoppable. Hey, we should form a basketball team!” Sana said eagerly looking at Laila for her reaction.

Laila’s eyes widened. “We should. I know a few other girls who would be interested that we can get to join us.”

“I feel sorry for whoever has the misfortune of competing against you guys then,” Elias chuckled.

“Well, I should get back home, it’s almost dinner time.” Laila said, packing up her things at a casual pace.

“Okay, I’ll call you later tonight?” Elias said, leaning closer to her and brushed his forehead against hers before pressing a brief kiss to her lips.

He could hear the guys jeering in the background, one of them wolf whistled. He could have sworn it was Adam. Elias broke apart from her, a faint tinge of pink bloomed across her cheeks as she said, “Sounds good.”

He let go of her and watched as she made her way off the court waving bye to the rest of them, bag in hand.

“Dude, why didn’t you tell us Laila was a basketball champion?” Mikael said.

“I didn’t know either,” he replied.

“Elias seriously, if you don’t marry Laila, I will,” Sana said unexpectedly, her dimples popping out.

#skam #skamelias #elias bakkoush #yousef acar #yousana #sana bakkoush #balloon squad

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siwoolf · 8 years ago

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TRCNG

(For the most part, this is sort of a reference for myself, but if others would like to use it to get into the group, feel free!)

TRCNG is a group that debuted on October 10, 2017 under TS Entertainment. Their name, TRCNG (some pronounce it as 'tracing', but apparently, it is supposed to be T-R-C-N-G; lately, a few members have been shortening "ti-al-si-en-ji" to "tyalssenji" ) is an acronym for Teen Rising Champions in a New Generation. They were first announced in mid August with a photo of ten silhouettes with the caption "TS ENT NEW GENERATION". A video about the group was released on TSENT2008 as well. The following members are in the order of youngest to oldest. Their first mini album is called "New Generation" and the title track is "Spectrum".

twitter - facebook - instagram - fancafe - vlive

sources, translations: twitter: @TRCNG_official, @Mel_it_hing, @keithebae, @TRCNG_noona, @jisungseyo, @trcng_boys, @siwoocng instagram: @trcnewgen, @trcng10, @trncg_planet tumblr: @hohyeon-anti (@keithebae) (literally tysm kei), @monbaby-trash youtube: rising subs

Kang Min (Kim Kangmin) Kangmoongie (Kangmin + Puppy) Position: main vocalist, dancer, maknae DOB: November 31, 2001 Zodiac Sign: Scorpio Height: 169cm (5'6") Blood Type: A Hobby: painting and drawing Specialty: freeze (dance move) ↠ His favorite artist is Justin Beiber. ↠ He was a backup dancer for B.A.P Daehyun's solo, Shadow. ↠ His favorite color is black. ↠ He tends to forget or misplace things. ↠ He likes to watch cartoons (Tom & Jerry, The Simpsons). ↠ His motto is “If you can’t avoid it, you must as well try and enjoy it.” ↠ His goal is to become a loved singer. ↠ His word to the fans is "I will be a singer who develops endlessly and is full of charm!"

Ho Hyeon (Lee Hohyeon) Ho Ho ; Hoppang (steamed bun) ; Hobbangie ; Mochi Position: main rapper DOB: October 14, 2001 Zodiac Sign: Libra Height: 177cm (5'9") Blood Type: A Hobby: cooking Specialty: writing lyrics ↠ His favorite artist is Tupac. ↠ He was a backup dancer for B.A.P Daehyun's solo, Shadow. ↠ His favorite color is black. ↠ He has a habit of zoning out. ↠ His interests include computer games, appreciating animation and movies, and cooking. ↠ With Jisung, he has taken part in writing the rap lyrics of Spectrum, their debut song. ↠ His motto is “If you don’t give up, it’s not impossible.” ↠ His goal is to be passionate with a modest attitude without becoming lazy. ↠ He was a special MC for The Show with B.A.P's Youngjae and Momoland's JooE. ↠ To the fans, he says, "We worked hard to prepare and to be able to see everyone so please give us a lot of love!"

Si Woo (Yoo Siwoo) Ddosiwoo ; Wolf ; Again Siwoo Position: low rapper DOB: May 11, 2001 Zodiac Sign: Taurus Height: 178cm (5'10") Blood Type: O Hobby: playing video games & reading manhwa Specialty: speaking Russian ↠ His favorite artist is Big Sean. ↠ His favorite colors are red, blue, and green. ↠ He has a habit of humming. ↠ He has interest in anime ↠ His motto is “Don’t be pessimistic if you don’t have any natural ability. If you don’t have talent, you can learn it.” ↠ Before living in South Korea, Siwoo lived in Russia for some of his childhood, which is how he knows Russian. ↠ His goal is to dedicate himself to the team [TRCNG]. ↠ His message to the fans is, "Thank you so much for waiting and, so I definitely won't let you be disappointed, I will work hard. Please wait for us and love us a lot."

Hyun Woo (Kim Hyunwoo) Strong Sloth ; Hyunu Position: low rapper, dancer DOB: January 21, 2001 Zodiac Sign: Aquarius Height: 173cm (5'8") Blood Type: A Hobby: exercising Specialty: arm wrestling (his strength is no joke) ↠ His favorite artist is Beenzino, Tyler, the Creator, and Meek Mill. ↠ He was a backup dancer for B.A.P Daehyun's solo, Shadow. ↠ His favorite colors are black and white. ↠ He has a habit of constantly eating. ↠ He is interested in boxing. ↠ Predebut, Hyunwoo was a child model since the age of 4. ↠ His motto is “Don’t give up.” ↠ His goal is to silently work hard and do his best. ↠ His word to the fans is, "From now on, so I can show a good side of myself, please give us a lot of love."

Ji Sung (Kim Jisung) Tree Squirrel; Rattata; Chocolate Position: high rapper DOB: December 21, 2000 Zodiac Sign: Sagittarius Height: 171cm (5'7" Blood Type: O Hobby: writing, taking notes Specialty: Backpack Kid dance ↠ His favorite artist is Beenzino, Tyler, the Creator, and Meek Mill. ↠ With Hohyeon, he has taken part in the writing of the rap lyrics of Spectrum, their debut song. ↠ He has an extensive career as a child actor, including being a voice actor for Ondal in the Korean children's' show "TOBOT". ↠ His favorite color is red. ↠ He has a habit of saying "uh" too often. ↠ He likes to read books and watch movies. ↠ His motto is “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” ↠ His goal is to do this [TRCNG] as a team. ↠ His word to the fans is "I will try to show you a good appearance in the future, so please look forward with lots of love and interest!"

Woo Yeop (Jo Wooyeop) Yeobi~ ; Mom ; Sweet Caffeine Position: sub vocalist, dancer DOB: September 27, 2000 Zodiac Sign: Libra Height: 179cm (5'10") Blood Type: B Hobby: watching dramas Specialty: Taekwondo ↠ His favorite artist is 2AM's Jo Kwon. ↠ He likes the colors black, white, and red. ↠ He has a habit of walking like a model and smiling like one. ↠ He joined TS Entertainment as a trainee under TNS Vocal and Dance Academy. ↠ His motto is “Manners maketh man” or “The right personality makes a man.” ↠ His goal is to do be successful. ↠ To the fans, he says, "I’m a bit awkward but please look at me cutely I will work hard to show a hardworking side of me during promotions!!"

Hak Min (Lee Hakmin) Paper Human ; Fried Chicken ; Min-ie (family) Position: sub vocalist, dancer DOB: September 20, 2000 Zodiac Sign: Virgo Height: 171cm (5'7") Blood Type: B Hobby: bowling Specialty: limbo ↠ His favorite artist is B.A.P's Jongup and Chris Brown. ↠ He owns a B.A.P lightstick. ↠ Black is his favorite color. ↠ He has a habit of talking to himself. ↠ He likes fashion and shoes. ↠ His motto is “Dreams are achieved by effort rather than dreaming by sleeping.” ↠ His goal is to "Try again!" ↠ To the fans, Hakmin says, "Hello! This is TRCNG’s Hakmin who has charms like chicken^^ It’s finally the time where I can meet you all and I’m excited. I want to show you the performance that we worked hard to prepare for. As much as you’ve waited (for us), we’ll show much of our good sides to you. From now on, please give TRCNG a lot of love️ Also, please remember me, Hakmin️ Thank you!"

Tae Seon (Yang Taeseon) Frog; Shark; Vampire Position: leader, lead vocalist DOB: September 17, 2000 Zodiac Sign: Virgo Height: 182cm (5'11") Blood Type: A Hobby: shopping Specialty: staring contests, girl group dances ↠ His favorite artist is BIGBANG's Taeyang. ↠ His favorite color is black. ↠ His habits are stretching his hands and washing them. ↠ He likes clothes styling. ↠ His motto is “Believe in yourself and dream big. Then anything can be done.” ↠ His goal is to become a leader for the survival of the team. ↠ As a word to the fans, Taeseon says, "The time for us to meet is approaching soon! As much as you've waited, we'll show you a cool side, a skillful side of us so please give TRCNG a lot of love Also please make sure to remember leader Taeseon-ie Thank you."

Ha Young (Choi Hayoung) Sexy Thigh ; Shoulder Thug/Broad Shoulders ; Bulldozer ; Baby ; Haiyoung (Hi~young) ; Jongam-dong's Zlatan Position: main vocalist DOB: August 22, 2000 Zodiac Sign: Virgo Height: 181cm (5'11") Blood Type: A Hobby: football (soccer) Specialty: speaking English, composing, and exercising. ↠ His favorite artist is Bruno Mars. ↠ His favorite colors are red and black. ↠ He has a habit of doing vocal practices at inappropriate times. ↠ He likes football, soccer, and working out. ↠ His motto is “Carpe Diem”/“Seize the day.” ↠ His goal is to become an artist that extends around the world. ↠ To the fans, Hayoung says, "I'm still very lacking, but with passion in every moment, I will become TRCNG's Hayoung that will show you a hard working side, a better side of myself!! Fighting!!!!"

Ji Hun (Kim Jihun) Mr. Actor ; Honeyface Position: lead vocalist DOB: January 9, 2000 Zodiac Sign: Capricorn Height: 176cm (5'9") Blood Type: B Hobby: bicycling Specialty: playing the violin. ↠ His favorite artist is The Script. ↠ Predebut, Jihun was also a child actor and has been in eight movies. ↠ His motto is “Be grateful and thankful for everything that happened to you.” ↠ His goal is to do everything without hesitating and to live without regret.

songs: spectrum (new generation) wolf baby (who am i) (coming soon!)

variety: after school club k-rush super k-pop (arirang radio) pops in seoul celuv tv the q (the show): 1, 2, 3, 4 (unsubbed) (feat: b.a.p youngjae) ysscom instruction manual: jihun, hayoung, taeseon, hakmin, wooyeop, jisung, hyunwoo, siwoo, hohyeon, kangmin

official trcng videos: introduction video 2017 christmas message TRACKING: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 (episodes 5-10 unsubbed) FUNNY10: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

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hamiltongolfcourses · 5 years ago

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The Best Quotes on Fatherhood

Fathers tend to be taken for granted.

We invariably make more of a fuss over Mom on Mother’s Day than Dad on Father’s Day, for one.

Dads are like a steady but less sentimentalized institution — the sun in our familial sky that warms and gives life but isn’t much thought about unless he goes missing.

Yet this belies the enormous impact fathers truly have on their children; while a dad’s nurturing may often take the form of playful roughhousing and silly jokes, his influence is quite serious and significant: the presence of a loving father greatly increases a child’s chances of success, confidence and resilience, physical and mental well-being, and yes, quite naturally, their sense of humor.

One of the manifestations of the way we take fathers for granted is that there exist many more quotes about Mom than dear old Dad (and even fewer about fathers and daughters). To make more accessible those great pearls of wisdom that do exist, we searched high and low for the very best, and created this ultimate treasury of quotes about fatherhood. These short quotations provide great prompts for reflection; typically, we’re so busy plowing ahead that we don’t pause to look up and get a “birds-eye” perspective on things — taking the time to ponder what our own dads meant to us, and the way we’re shaping, and should be savoring, our kids right now.

Quotes About Fatherhood

“You don’t raise heroes, you raise sons. And if you treat them like sons, they’ll turn out to be heroes, even if it’s just in your own eyes.” –Walter M. Schirra, Sr.

“Some dads liken the impending birth of a child to the beginning of a great journey.” –Marcus Jacob Goldman

“One father is more than a hundred schoolmasters.” –George Herbert

“Sherman made the terrible discovery that men make about their fathers sooner or later . . . that the man before him was not an aging father but a boy, a boy much like himself, a boy who grew up and had a child of his own and, as best he could, out of a sense of duty and, perhaps love, adopted a role called Being a Father so that his child would have something mythical and infinitely important: a Protector, who would keep a lid on all the chaotic and catastrophic possibilities of life.” –Tom Wolfe, The Bonfire of the Vanities

“The best way of training the young is to train yourself at the same time; not to admonish them, but to be seen never doing that of which you would admonish them.” –Plato

“The nature of impending fatherhood is that you are doing something that you’re unqualified to do, and then you become qualified while doing it.” –John Green

“One of the greatest things a father can do for his children is to love their mother.” –Howard W. Hunter

“To a father growing old nothing is dearer than a daughter.” –Euripides

“If there is any immortality to be had among us human beings, it is certainly only in the love that we leave behind. Fathers like mine don’t ever die.” –Leo Buscaglia

“That is the thankless position of the father in the family—the provider for all, and the enemy of all.” –J. August Strindberg

“Every father should remember one day his son will follow his example, not his advice.” –Charles Kettering

“Son, there are times a man has to do things he doesn’t like to, in order to protect his family.” –Ralph Moody

“A boy needs a father to show him how to be in the world. He needs to be given swagger, taught how to read a map so that he can recognize the roads that lead to life and the paths that lead to death, how to know what love requires, and where to find steel in the heart when life makes demands on us that are greater than we think we can endure.” –Ian Morgan Cron

“Parenthood remains the single greatest preserve of the amateur.” –Alvin Toffler

“My father didn’t tell me how to live. He lived and let me watch him do it.” –Clarence Budington Kelland

“When you’re a dad, there’s no one above you. If I don’t do something that has to be done, who is going to do it?” –Jonathan Safran Foer, Here I Am

“‘Why do men like me want sons?’ he wondered. ‘It must be because they hope in their poor beaten souls that these new men, who are their blood, will do the things they were not strong enough nor wise enough nor brave enough to do. It is rather like another chance at life; like a new bag of coins at a table of luck after your fortune is gone.’” –John Steinbeck, Cup of Gold: A Life of Sir Henry Morgan, Buccaneer, with Occasional Reference to History

“If the past cannot teach the present, and the father cannot teach the son, then history need not have bothered to go on, and the world has wasted a great deal of time.” –Russell Hoban

“There are many kinds of success in life worth having. It is exceedingly interesting and attractive to be a successful business man, or railway man, or farmer, or a successful lawyer or doctor; or a writer, or a President, or a ranchman, or the colonel of a fighting regiment, or to kill grizzly bears and lions. But for unflagging interest and enjoyment, a household of children, if things go reasonably well, certainly makes all other forms of success and achievement lose their importance by comparison.” –Theodore Roosevelt

“Father!—To God Himself we cannot give a holier name.” –William Wordsworth

“We think our Fathers Fools, so wise we grow; Our wiser Sons, no doubt, will think us so.” –Alexander Pope

“His values embraced family, reveled in the social mingling of the kitchen, and above all, welcomed the loving disorder of children.” –John Cole

“Children are a poor man’s riches.” –English proverb

“It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.” –Frederick Douglass

“A girl’s father is the first man in her life, and probably the most influential.” –David Jeremiah

“Fathers, like mothers, are not born. Men grow into fathers and fathering is a very important stage in their development.” –David Gottesman

“Father of fathers, make me one,

A fit example for a son.”

–Douglas Malloch

“I believe that what we become depends on what our fathers teach us at odd moments, when they aren’t trying to teach us. We are formed by little scraps of wisdom.” –Umberto Eco

“My father used to play with my brother and me in the yard. Mother would come out and say, ‘You’re tearing up the grass.’ ‘We’re not raising grass,’ Dad would reply. ‘We’re raising boys.’” –Harmon Killebrew

“Until you have a son of your own . . . you will never know the joy beyond joy, the love beyond feeling that resonates in the heart of a father as he looks upon his son. You will never know the sense of honor that makes a man want to be more than he is and to pass something good and hopeful into the hands of his son. And you will never know the heartbreak of the fathers who are haunted by the personal demons that keep them from being the men they want their sons to be.” –Kent Nerburn

“When my son looks up at me and breaks into his wonderful toothless smile, my eyes fill up and I know that having him is the best thing I will ever do.” –Dan Greenberg

“Being a great father is like shaving. No matter how good you shaved today, you have to do it again tomorrow.” –Reed Markham

“It is easier for a father to have children than for children to have a real father.” –Pope John XXIII

“When I looked at you first I saw not your mother and me, but your two grandfathers . . . and, as my father, whom I loved a great deal, had died the year before, I was moved to see that here, in you, he was alive.” –Peter Carey

“Dads are most ordinary men turned by love into heroes, adventurers, story-tellers, and singers of song.” –Pam Brown

“‘Father’ is the noblest title a man can be given. It is more than a biological role. It signifies a patriarch, a leader, an exemplar, a confidant, a teacher, a hero, a friend.” –Robert L. Backman

“Noble fathers have noble children.” –Euripides

“The father who does not teach his son his duties is equally guilty with the son who neglects them.” –Confucius

“No man can possibly know what life means, what the world means, what anything means, until he has a child and loves it.” –Lafcadio Hearn

“I cannot think of any need in children as strong as the need for a father’s protection.” –Sigmund Freud

“A father is a man who expects his son to be as good a man as he meant to be.” –Frank A. Clark

“His father watched him across the gulf of years and pathos which always divide a father from his son.” –John Marquand

“A family needs a father to anchor it.” –L. Tom Perry

“Words have an awesome impact. The impression made by a father’s voice can set in motion an entire trend of life.” –Gordon MacDonald

“Children need models rather than critics.” –Joseph Joubert

“A father is someone you look up to no matter how tall you grow.” –Unknown

“Certain is it that there is no kind of affection so purely angelic as of a father to a daughter. In love to our wives there is desire; to our sons, ambition; but to our daughters there is something which there are no words to express.” –Joseph Addison

“Mostly you just have to keep plugging and keep loving—and hoping that your child forgives you according to how you loved him, judged him, forgave him, and stood watching over him as he slept, year after year.” –Ben Stein

“Life doesn’t come with an instruction book — that’s why we have fathers.” H. Jackson Browne

“Fathers, you are your daughter’s hero. My father was my hero. I used to wait on the steps of our home for him to arrive each night. He would pick me up and twirl me around and let me put my feet on top of his big shoes, and then he would dance me into the house. I loved the challenge of trying to follow his every footstep. I still do.” –Elaine S. Dalton

“A good father is one of the most unsung, unpraised, unnoticed, and yet one of the most valuable assets in our society.” –Billy Graham

“When you teach your son, you teach your son’s son.” –The Talmud

“My father always said there are four things a child needs: plenty of love, nourishing food, regular sleep, and lots of soap and water. After that, what he needs most is some intelligent neglect.” –Ivy Baker Priest

“Like so much between fathers and sons, playing catch was tender and tense at the same time.” –Donald Hall

“By profession I am a soldier and take great pride in that fact, but I am also prouder, infinitely prouder, to be a father. A soldier destroys in order to build; the father only builds, never destroys.” –General Douglas MacArthur

“The lone father is not a strong father. Fathering is a difficult and perilous journey and is done well with the help of other men.” –John L. Hart

“Children of the new millennium when change is likely to continue and stress will be inevitable, are going to need, more than ever, the mentoring of an available father.” –Ian Grant

“The quality of a father can be seen in the goals, dreams, and aspirations he sets not only for himself, but for his family.” –Reed Markham

“Fathering is not something perfect men do, but something that perfects the man.” –Frank Pittman

“Never fret for an only son. The idea of failure will never occur to him.” –George Bernard Shaw

“My son is seven years old. I am fifty-four. It has taken me a great many years to reach that age. I am more respected in the community, I am stronger, I am more intelligent and I think I am better than he is. I don’t want to be his pal, I want to be a father.” –Clifton Fadiman

“Some day you will know that a father is much happier in his children’s happiness than in his own. I cannot explain it to you: it is a feeling in your body that spreads gladness through you.” –Honore de Balzac, Pere Goriot

“A child enters your home and for the next twenty years makes so much noise you can hardly stand it. The child departs, leaving the house so silent you think you are going mad.” –John Andrew Holmes

“Every parent is at some point the father of the unreturned prodigal, with nothing to do but keep his house open to hope.” –John Ciardi

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askroahmmythril · 4 years ago

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Reference List for amiibo Fighter Names (Set 6)

56) Marth : PrizedHero - If memory serves, this was kind of a shared suggestion from friends who were playing Fire Emblem Heroes. Again, Fire Emblem is not exactly my area of expertise, so given some visual references to work with, I went for it, depicting Marth as a high rarity unit for the gacha system of the game. I added more capsule machine elements to it to make it a bit more stylized. Also the idea of Marth popping out of a capsule amuses me.

57) Corrin : Dovahkiin - Pretty solidly a Skyrim reference, Corrin here is the Dragonborn. GIven what little I know about the actual character of Corrin, the idea worked in my mind. I wanted to have him charging some Alteration magic just because I really liked how unique the hand effect looked in the game. Drawing Corrin’s armor was a pain in the tail, that much I remember o.o;

58) Fox : Wildestyle - This one is a reference to Zootopia. It pretty quickly became one of my favorite Disney movies, so putting Fox in Zootopia worked in my mind. Of all things for visual references, the scenery came largely from the main menu of the DVD. I filled it out with a few different characters from the movie, Nick and Judy of course, the business lemmings just because they were easy to fill space with, and Clawhauser because he was a personal favorite character. And of course I gave Fox a pawpcicle and a Disney phone

59) Ryu : Umeshoryu - This one was a suggestion from Neo, a reference to Daigo Umehara, a skilled player of fighting games. The Umeshoryu is a technique named as a combination of his name and Ryu’s Shoryuken. Essentially it’s a perfectly timed uppercut type move that has to be timed just right, or else you’re highly open to punishment. I had to look up visual references of him, and found images of a unique way he holds controllers, so I tried to replicate that with Ryu. Which drawing hands is already difficult. So trying to mimic such a precise sort of positioning of fingers, that was a thing.

60) Mii Brawler : UrbanChamp - A reference to an old NES game, Urban Champion. Essentially it was a very basic fighting game where you used high and low punches to try to push your opponent off their side of the screen, while dodging flower pots being thrown out windows.

61) Bayonetta (Player 2) : Let’sDance - A combo reference to Bayo’s final dance number at the end of the first game, and Dance Dance Revolution. Surprisingly, I was actually pretty into DDR for awhile. The overall scenery is supposed to be a fountain in a park-like area you find as you walk through Vigrid. I just remember really liking how that area looks. I was looking over DDR titles and went with 3rd MIX as a title to parody by instead calling it 3rd CLIMAX.

62) R.O.B. (Famicom) : ¥AMATOBOT - Given the Famicom was the Japanese variant of the NES, I wanted to go with some Japanese style to this one. For the background, I largely took inspiration from the background mural of E. Honda’s stage from Street Fighter 2. I replaced the banner though with the Japanese writing for Nintendo (I’m honestly not 100% sure which style of writing that is, as I know there are a lot of different names for different styles of characters). R.O.B.’s pose is a reference to Auto’s pose on his CD Database image from Mega Man & Bass.

63) Mega Man (Gold) : DLN-C3PO - A Star Wars reference because, let’s be honest, he’s a solidly gold colored robot, so it made sense to me. The DLN references the serial numbers of robots created by Dr. Light, standing for Doctor Light Number. I debated using Eddie for the R2-D2 stand-in, but in the end, a Met worked much better in my mind, having the more dome shape with its hard hat. The background was largely taken from Tomahawk Man’s stage, but with a second sun added to reference the desert planet Tatooine.

64) Young Link : 72HourHero - A reference to the game Half Minute Hero, which I’ve always wanted to try out, but never had access to it. It seemed like a fun concept. Young Link however is the 72 Hour Hero since that’s how long he has in Majora’s Mask. The woman with the hourglass is Half Minute Hero’s Goddess of Time, who takes your money to reset the clock for you in each stage. Skull Kid and the Moon are of course Majora’s Mask references. I wanted to fill more of the negative space, but didn’t really have any ideas there. As for Young Link, I accidentally gave him the wrong sword, as I forgot what his sword in Melee looked like. He’s thus based at least a bit more on his Hyrule Warriors appearance, as that’s what was more familiar to me at the time.

65) Roy : RegionLock - The idea here was that Roy was the only character to not get his game localized outside of Japan. Honestly, I’m not sure if this is still true or not? I know there are fan translations, but not sure about OFFICIAL localizations. The Japanese writing on the nameplate simply says “REGION LOCK” repeatedly, though I’m not 100% sure I have the correct writing for what was intended there? Question of how much can I trust Google Translate I’m afraid. As such might be something that needs updating as well. The other characters shown here are others that didn’t get official translations of their games outside of Japan : Hikari and Donbe from Shin Onigashima, Takamaru from Mysterious Murasame Castle, and Lip from Panel de Pon. Again, unsure if any of these actually did get official translations eventually, maybe via Virtual Console or NES / SNES Online or such?

66) Snake : Orange Box - One of the most standard cardboard boxes Snake tends to use for cover is simply labeled “The Orange.” So... the Orange Box. Which was also the name of a bundle of games released by Valve, made up of Team Fortress 2, Half-Life 2, and Portal. Thus we have Snake in a Portal test chamber with a Turret aiming through a portal, Gordon Freeman’s crowbar sitting on a desk along with the intel briefcase from Team Fortress 2. I emulated the Valve logo, but instead wrote Kojima, referencing Hideo Kojima, creator of the Metal Gear series.

67) Wolf : Tankjacker - The overall style of this one is meant to emulate cover art for a Grand Theft Auto game, the joke being that this is how Wolf ended up with his Landmaster in Brawl, just going in and stealing one. Alas, this reference is outdated since he no longer has it in Ultimate.... but honestly I love the reference too much so I’ll probably keep this idea. We will have to update his outfit though of course, as this one is still based on his Brawl design.

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antiques-for-geeks · 5 years ago

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Game Review : Space Harrier

Elite Systems / 1987 / Originally £9.99 / Commodore 64

In Space Harrier, save the ‘Fantasy Zone’ from certain destruction by flying into the screen and blasting stuff until you meet a bigger thing to blast at the end of the level. Then blast more stuff while looking at a differently coloured background!

The rate at which graphics and sound advanced in the arcades in the early 1980’s was genuinely astounding. As a kid I only made contact with this exciting world a few times a year, and I would be greeted with something new and potentially jaw dropping on nearly every occasion. A case in point: try comparing SEGA’s 1981 driving game Turbo with their 1985 fantastical 3D shooter Space Harrier. Turbo was a really impressive game for ‘81, but it was made to look colourless, jerky and ridiculously limited within just a few short years.

Space Harrier was a notable early entry in SEGA’s ‘super scaler’ series of arcade games, which used hardware sprite scaling effects to provide a convincing into-the-screen 3D effect without the need to render a real 3D space.

In the arcade. Fast, smooth and colourful!

The effect of movement is amplified here by a smoothly animated checkerboard ground pattern. It’s a very simple game at heart; you view your flying character from behind as they weave in and out of columns and trees, trading shots with enemies that dance in front of them. At the end of each level you come to a dead stop and face off against a larger boss; basically a mobile bullet sponge who guards the way to the next level.

Every few stages you get to ride a dragon and smash into trees to earn points. The battle is played out to a memorable theme tune, and has a few scattered speech samples thrown in for good measure (‘welcome to the fantasy zone!’).

From the very beginning, reproducing a game like Space Harrier on the C64 was a bit of a non-starter. Where 8-bit home computers could often produce a reasonable facsimile of arcade games at the beginning of their life-span, they were soon completely out-paced by the sounds and visuals offered in the arcade.

Despite this fact, arcade licenses remained sure sellers on home systems which could never do them justice.

You'll forget the sun in his jealous sky as we walk in fields of brown.

The impossible job of converting such a technically advanced game to the C64 was handled by Chris Butler, whose efforts on the beige box I generally have a lot of time for. He produced very playable (if truncated) versions of Commando and ‘Ghosts and Goblins’. He also went on to make several other madly ambitious C64 conversions of SEGA’s super scaler arcade games, with some degree of success. His games though, had a definite tendency to look plain and functional. If you take a candy coloured fantasy like Space Harrier and replace 90% of the colour with turd-brown and battleship grey it’s hard to hand out plaudits for what’s left.

And yet, if you squint… and approach it with a lot of charity… this *is* a half decent effort for the time. It’s nice and fast and contains all the essential gameplay elements of dodging and shooting in a 3D space. It’s a shorter game, with much less variety in enemies, no dragon riding bonus sections and no character speech, but the graphical effect that renders the enemies and obstacles as they get closer until nearly filling the screen has been done fairly effectively.

It’s certainly much better than the laughably feeble Amstrad CPC effort, which rendered all the enemies and obstacles with vector graphics to keep the speed up. It’s also much less likely to give you a seizure than the Spectrum port, throwing its shaded monochrome sprites and horrible colour clash right into your retinas.

The conversion is obviously a rush job; apparently Chris was given a stupidly short deadline and it would have been much better if he’d been allowed the time to finish. This is evidenced by the later US release which added a raster bar effect on the ground and tidied up the sprite work.

U.S. Space Harrier. A slap in the face to British gamers!

Ultimately, what sinks this game on the C64 is that fact that in the arcade it was more of an attempt at sensory overload than a deep and engaging game. The deluxe cabinet even threw the player about courtesy of a hydraulic chair! It was about as imaginatively made a sensory overload as you were going to get back then, and I still retain a lot of fondness for it, but strip it of its theme park ride trappings and there isn’t really a whole lot left to keep you entertained.

Buying it today

This was a successful mainstream release, and there are plentiful cassette copies available for a few pounds.

Commentariat

Tim: The odd thing is, for years I never saw an actual Space Harrier arcade machine. Our local leisure centre was the point of reference for such things and while it was fine for Double Dragon, Thunderblade, Xenophobe, Outrun and Operation Wolf, they never seemed to ever get Space Harrier. So in my mind, this game has always really been a mish-mash of low res graphics and turgid colours. Oddly, it’s the arcade that feels wrong. Messed up, I know.

The C64’s version is alright; it whips along at a decent pace and the music, what there is of it, is nicely done. True it’s nowhere near arcade accurate and at times makes little sense, but it’s a solid attempt even if it quickly bounces against the limitations of the hardware it’s running on. Compare it to some other versions and the arcade and sadly, it’s nothing to write home about.

Pop: When I think of Space Harrier, I’m always transported back to a specific moment in my childhood. Some of my friends were keen mountain bikers, and since I’d just been given a cheap imitation of a mountain bike I decided to join them on one of their weekend trips. This quickly resulted in me travelling at speed down a gravelly hill on my arse. Luckily Tim lived nearby; his mum was a nurse and with her expert help I survived. I remember coming home that evening battered and bruised and playing my new copy of Space Harrier for the first time. I can’t remember enjoying it that much, but it was certainly a surreal experience, still vivid in my mind.

In retrospect, this wasn’t much cop. The C64 was plagued by over-ambitious arcade conversions. There’s just not enough gameplay here, and it’s all quite unattractive to look at.

Meat: The graphics are ugly, the main character runs like he’s shat himself, there’s minimal gameplay, half the levels are missing, the bonus stages are missing, the synthesized speech is missing. Other than that it’s fine.

Score card

Presentation 5/10

A standard cassette jewel case with inlay instructions. The cover artwork is attractive courtesy of the original arcade game. There’s very little that’s special about the in-game presentation, with a very bare title screen. This has all the hall-marks of a rush job.

Originality 6/10

From a graphical design standpoint the arcade game was very original. The gameplay itself was only an iteration on what had come before. There weren’t too many games attempting this into-the-screen viewpoint on the C64 at the time, given how difficult it was to pull off successfully.

Graphics 5/10

They’re fast, but much more jerky than in the arcade thanks to the lack of any custom sprite scaling hardware in the humble ‘64. The effect just about works, but the lack of any ground animation is a let down. Everything is splotchy and ugly, and there’s far too much brown!

Hookability 6/10

Very easy to get into, and nothing much to explain. There’s a certain appeal to seeing what comes next, for a while at least.

Sound 7/10

A well made rendition of the arcade Space Harrier theme plays on every level, with a separate end-of-level boss tune. The spot effects are pitiful, however. The C64 surely could have handled the synthesized speech, though this may have been cut due to memory constraints and to avoid having to make the game a tape multi-load.

Lastability 3/10

Space Harrier is not a deep game. There isn’t even as much incentive to see later levels as in the arcade, because the background and enemy variety has been cut right back.

Value for Money 3/10

1987 was something of a vintage year for the C64, with the release of original titles such as Wizball, IK+ and The Last Ninja. There really isn’t enough here to make this a worthy purchase at full price.

Overall 4/10

While this was a brave attempt at home conversion of Space Harrier, it was a minor disappointment at the time. It may have been the best on an 8-bit computer, but that’s clearing a pretty low bar. It also rankles that we got something half finished where the U.S. saw a significantly more polished release.

If you really feel the need to play an 8-bit conversion today, we would recommend the efforts on the Master System or PC Engine. There’s also a highly impressive modern homebrew for Atari computers.

#Commodore 64 #AFG #retrogaming #retrocomputing #antiquesforgeeks #C64 #retro review

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themastercylinder · 7 years ago

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The dead walk in this promotional shot for PLAGUE OF THE ZOMBIES(1966)

Roy Ashton’s first major makeup’s was on Boris Karloff in The Man Who Changed His Mind (1936). He played a mad scientist with hair that was quite long for those days. After they finished shooting he cut his hair for another film, but the producer, Ted Black, decided they needed some additional shots of him. So I made a wig for Boris to wear while the crew filmed the inserts.”

Immediately before the start of the war, Ashton met Roy Ward Baker, who later went on to establish himself in the horror genre with films like Hammer’s The Vampire Lovers and Quatermass and the Pit (Five Million Years to Earth in the U.S.) Baker had just been promoted to the position of assistant director and was working at Gainsborough Studios while Ashton was there with Rosenthal. The two Roy’s became good friends, neither realizing that their professional paths would cross on a number of occasions in the future. The war in Europe then intervened and Ashton worked as radar instructor for the Royal Artillery. Following this period in the service, he launched into an alternative career as an opera singer, an area of the arts he had long considered. “My interest in music was cultivated by my home environment,” he says. “Both my parents were musicians. My mother was a particularly fine singer and pianist. Her encouragement fired my ambition to study the subject. This I did simultaneously with art studies and studio work. As soon as the war was over I felt it was time to apply the musical training professionally and joined several opera companies like Intimate Opera, and Festival Opera, singing in England and on the Continent.”

The Man Who Changed His Mind (1936)

Ashton retained his film union affiliation during the 14 years he spent performing, keeping his hand in movies when his musical career was not so demanding, though that proved rarely to be the case. However, by the middle 1950’s he became increasingly involved with Hammer.

On the production of Invitation to the Dance (1955), Ashton found himself working as assistant to Phil Leakey. They were soon firm friends, and worked together on several films. Leakey introduced Ashton to Hammer Films, so starting a relationship for which Ashton is best known.

“At that time Phil Leakey was in charge of Hammer’s makeup department, and when there was a lot of work I used to go and give him a hand. I’m afraid I can’t remember the first film I worked on there, but it was before they began making the gothic horrors. I then worked on The Curse of Frankenstein (1957) for a few days, and also on The Horror of Dracula (1958). On the latter I helped Phil with Christopher Lee’s makeup for his big death scene, putting in his fangs and touching up the fake skin so that it would peel properly. I guess you could say I assisted in giving him his cutting edge,”

I remember I stuck in Chris Lee’s teeth and eyes for the sequence where the shaft of light fell on him and he disintegrated. Not that there’s much involved in Dracula’s make-up. The tradition is that he’s very pale, seeing as he never goes out in the sun, for obvious reasons, and he has dark hair with a widow’s peak. Eyebrows that join across and of course and canine teeth. Also, for some scenes, his eyes turn blood red. I didn’t make the contact lenses, but I’m in charge of getting them in and out of the actors eyes.

“With Christopher Lee I would put them in just before a take and extract them immediately afterwards. So that he wasn’t too distressed by them. Some people can’t develop a tolerance for them, particularly if they suffer from hay fever. The ones that Chris wears cover the whole ball of the eye, except for the cornea and iris, and fit under the upper and lower lids.

After The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958), there was a production lull while substantial rebuilding work was carried out at Bray Studios. During this time Leakey, having had his retainer cut by the company’s associate producer, Anthony Nelson Keys, left the company in disgust. Ashton found himself in charge of make-up for The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959). Ashton’s main effort on that film, to transform a Great Dane into the title character, was barely a success, the result only appearing briefly in the final cut.

The Man Who Could Cheat Death (1959) His next film, The Man Who Could Cheat Death (1959), involved transforming Anton Diffring into “a living corpse”. Ashton achieved the effect with liquid rubber, which, when allowed to dry on a pinch of skin, would leave wrinkles when the skin was released back to its original position. He then used blue mending wool to imitate collapsed veins. Ashton also prepared a cap, which he covered with wisps of hair and latex, and designed a special set of contact lenses to create the milky white and yellow effect of an aged eye. The result was widely admired: over a decade later the American makeup artist, Dick Smith, consulted Ashton about the effect to create makeup to age Dustin Hoffman as a 103-year-old man in Little Big Man, and was to repeat the effect in several subsequent films.

A reference photograph of a fully bandaged Christopher Lee (born 1922) as ‘Kharis’ in ‘The Mummy’ (1959), taken by Roy Ashton (1909-1995) in 1959. ‘The Mummy’ was released on 25 September 1959. Christopher Lee was asked to ‘act’ with his eyes, which were made-up and left uncovered by the mask. This photograph is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

A reference photograph of a fully bandaged Christopher Lee as ‘Kharis’ in ‘The Mummy’ (1959), taken by Roy Ashton . Christopher Lee was asked to ‘act’ with his eyes, which were made-up and left uncovered by the mask.

For Christopher Lee’s make-up in The Mummy (1959) I did a lot of research. My studies took me to the British Museum and many books on mummies, and I tried to reproduce as best I could the effect which I imagined the passage of time would have on Chris. I made a cast of his head and on that I worked with pieces of old rag and pieces of laminated paper. Unfortunately I didn’t realize that this, my first attempt at mummy makeup, would adhere so closely to his lace. It was very uncomfortable for Chris because there was nowhere really for him to breathe!

“Actually the only place where the air could get into the makeup was around the eyeholes, but in the later mummy films I realized that I could still suggest the appearance of a mummy in a way that allowed for the presence of air holes and all sorts of cavities that presented pressure on the actor’s face. The bandages, by the way were done by the wardrobe department, but we worked together on that.

The bandages were wound in such a way that they appeared as they originally did on actual mummies, but of course they had to have built in support otherwise they would have fallen straight down when he mused. They were reinforced with cotton wool and sewn together, so in effect they became a kind of uniform into which he could step. To make the join between the facial make’ up and the bandages, I used some very old rap which I made look hard with plaster.

“Curse of the Werewolf (1960) was another film I researched painstakingly. I went to the Natural History Museum to draw and photograph the exhibits since a basis of correct anatomy was very important. You see, if something like that is not right, anatomically. It doesn’t work well, destroying the whole illusion. Even the layman with no knowledge of anatomical construction can tell if you have not done the job properly.

Oliver Reed preparing for his starring role in the Hammer Horror film ‘The Curse of The Werewolf’ (1960). It was make-up artist Roy Ashton who recommended Reed for the part; “His powerful bone structure was just right for the appearance…he resembles a wolf anyway, when he is very angry.”

“The werewolf design took me several weeks of study and experiment,” Ashton continues. “Oliver Reed had to submit to a number of tests, but he was splendidly cooperative and patient. The makeup basically was a false cranium which fitted over his and came down to tuck into his eye sockets. The ears took some adjusting in the design before they looked acceptable. The neck and chin was a complex arrangement of hair somewhat in the manner that sheaves are organized in thatched roofing, as the head movement demanded that the layers had the freedom to move around one another. The body was a leotard covered with yak hair. I also had to create finger nails that suggested claws, and fangs and nostril expanders to add to the final effect. The application took about two hours, using a blend of plastic, silk, hair, and acrylic.”

A reference photograph of a stage in the transformation of Oliver Reed (1938-1999) into the Werewolf for ‘The Curse of the Werewolf’ (1961), taken by an unknown photographer in 1960. This photograph is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton (1909-1995) and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

A reference photograph of Oliver Reed (1938-1999) in full make-up as the Werewolf, taken by Roy Ashton (1909-1995) in 1960. Reed played Leon in ‘The Curse of the Werewolf’ (1961). Preparing Reed’s full werewolf make-up involved a number of sittings and the creation of various prosthetic appliances. Yak hair imported from Tibet was used for the fur – trimmed to reduce the rather woolly effect seen here. Creases in the fur on Reed’s chest are clearly visible. The nostrils were filled with candle wax and left with a hole in the centre so that Reed could breathe. This photograph is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

A photograph, believed to have been taken by Roy Ashton, showing the make-up test for Paul Massie as Mr Hyde from the Hammer film ‘The Two Faces of Dr Jekyll’ (1960). This work is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton (1909-1995) and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

A reference photograph of Paul Massie, taken by an unknown photographer in 1960. A sheet of tracing paper overlays Massie’s image, as used by Roy Ashton (1909-1995) to trace and design Dr Jekyll’s appearance, for the film ‘The Two Faces of Dr Jekyll’ (1960). This work is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton (1909-1995) and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

A reference photograph of Paul Massie, taken by an unknown photographer in 1960. A sheet of tracing paper overlays Massie’s image, as used by Roy Ashton (1909-1995) to trace and design Dr Jekyll’s appearance, for the film ‘The Two Faces of Dr Jekyll’ (1960). This work is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll (1960)

The Terror of the Tongs (1961) The film is notable in that is the first Hammer horror film to afford Christopher Lee top billing. Lee also reported to work on the film after a vacation in Northern Italy with a deep tan, which was problematic for the make-up department since his character was supposed to have very pale skin. Lee later said in interviews that the make-up to make him appear into a Chinese in this movie was the most uncomfortable make-up he had to endure up to that time.

The biggest makeup problem in the remake of Phantom of the Opera (1962) turned out, oddly enough, to be the Phantom’s mask. The management contracted a professional mask maker six weeks before shooting, who turned out many super designs for the Phantom’s mask, none of which they were satisfied with. My suggestion was that this chap who flitted around the opera house would have picked up a discarded prop to hide his disfigurement. I recommended a book called Masks of the World, by Gregor, which features nearly every mask invented by man, all photographed and recorded. But they weren’t interested. It reached the stage where the film had actually started. I think it was the third week into the six weeks of the shoot, and we were in the Wimbleton Theatre ready to film the Phantom’s first appearance, and Herbert Lom was still without a mask. In desperation they asked me to make something on the spot, so t went away and returned 10 minutes later with a mask made out of cloth, camera tape, string and other oddments, and they said, ‘That’s it! That’s just what we wanted!”‘

A reference photograph of stunt man Jackie Cooper as Herbert Lom’s (born 1917) Phantom double in ‘The Phantom of the Opera’ (1962), taken by an unknown photographer in 1962. This photograph is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton (1909-1995) and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

In addition to turning people into monsters, Ashton was sometimes called upon to create special props, like the decomposed body of maniac Oliver Reed’s brother in Paranoiac (1963). “First of all I obtained a medical skeleton and rubberized the face and hands, to which I added layers of tissue paper. I took great pains over the face, though it came out looking like thin concrete in the finished film because of the way it was lit. I prided myself on the subtlety of the decaying features as I flaked the skin and gave the poor chap a few hairs, warts, bumps, and made sure the coloring was right.

A photograph of a rotting corpse, prepared by Roy Ashton for the film, ‘Paranoic’ (1963), sitting in a chair in Ashton’s make-up studio, taken by an unknown photographer in 1962. This photograph is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton (1909-1995) and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

A rotting corpse, prepared by Roy Ashton for the film, ‘Paranoic’ (1963)

“When the body was finished I used to keep him in my workshop, locking him out of harm’s way at night in a cupboard. One evening I forgot to do this, and the next morning the cleaning woman came in, only to rush straight out shouting that there was a dead man in the makeup room! So he was obviously realistic,” he laughs.

The Evil of Frankenstein (1964) “The idea for the creature was mine. I had extreme difficulty getting it accepted, because they had no idea of what exactly they wanted and couldn’t make up their minds. I did so many preproduction drawings that I started to throw them away. I think I did nearly 300 drawings in the end, numbering them up to 120 before I began to consign them to the bin.”

A reference photograph showing a preliminary make-up test for Kiwi Kingston as the Creature, in ‘The Evil of Frankenstein’ (1964), taken by an unknown photographer in 1963. This photograph shows how the stitching attaches the ‘split’ skull. This photograph is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton (1909-1995) and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

I ask Ashton if his idea had been to attempt to capture the pathos of Karloff’s creature. “No, not really,” he replies, “They said, ‘We want a monster.’ so I tried to come up with some lumbering wretch. Kiwi Kingston, who played the monster, was a big man, a wrestler. I had him wear diver’s hoots which I thought would suggest a great lumbering creature.

Gelatin silver reference print showing a preliminary make-up test for Kiwi Kingston as the Creature, in ‘The Evil of Frankenstein’ (1964).

“The design had some resemblance to the original American Frankenstein with Boris Karloff, but was different in several ways. I had the idea of the cranium being opened across the top of the forehead and rather clumsily sewn together with large thongs to suggest the crude surgical procedures of the time. I think I put the electrodes on the temple whereas in the Karloff one, they put them on the neck. With his facial makeup I tried to impart a sense of the crude surgical procedures of that era.

A reference photograph of Prudence Hyman (died 1995) as Megaera the Gorgon, taken by an unknown photographer in 1964. Roy Ashton (1909-1995) used the image for developing the special effects make-up of Megaera in ‘The Gorgon’ (1964). This photograph is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

The Gorgon (1964) was another film which put Ashton at loggerheads with the front office men. “Syd Pearson, who handled the special effects on that film, was responsible for the snakes which protruded from the Medusa’s head. I did not share his conception. I thought the half-dozen mechanical devices that appeared to strike in the wig worn by Prudence Hyman certainly did not suggest locks of hair.

“There is, by Cellini, a marvelous statue or Perseus holding the severed head of the Gorgon up by the hair, which is composed of tiny serpentine ringlets, and that is what I proposed. I intended to make a wig out of little leathery snakes which were being sold as children’s toys at the time. They were small jointed items glued on top of strips of leather and wriggled in a life-like manner. I told them a bunch of those would look right, but Syd came up with these fat snakes operated by cables, and that is what they opted for.” He shrugs. “Personally, I think it was the wrong decision.”

The Gorgon’s snakes were operated hydraulically and manually (with cables) by SPFX man, Syd Pearson, and his crew.

The film also required several characters to gradually turn to stone when they gazed at the Gorgon. To achieve this, Ashton made preliminary sculptures in Plasticine, colored them grey, and then based his final makeup’s upon them to produce the right texture.

A reference photograph of a plaster cast head made by Roy Ashton (1909-1995), taken by an unknown photographer in 1964. The cast is that of Professor Heitz, played by Michael Goodliffe (died 1976), in the film ‘The Gorgon’ (1964). This photograph is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

A reference photograph of Michael Goodliffe (died 1976) as Professor Heitz in ‘The Gorgon’ (1964), taken by an unknown photographer in 1964. This photograph is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton (1909-1995) and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

A reference photograph showing the petrification of Professor Heitz, played by Michael Goodliffe (died 1976), in ‘The Gorgon’ (1964), taken by an unknown photographer in 1964. This photograph is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton (1909-1995) and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

“That was a time consuming process however I approached it,” he says, remaining silent about the technicalities, “but working with fine actors such as Michael Goodliffe, made it a worthwhile experience.”

Roy Ashton applying make-up to Edward de Souza’s chest to create the effect of vampire clawing, for the film ‘Kiss Of The Vampire’ (1964)

Hammer’s adaptation of “She (1965)” Sir Henry Rider Haggard’s classic fantasy adventure, a formidable challenge requiring him to age beautiful Ursula Andress to an advanced stage of decomposition in less than one minute. Once again the end result was not in accordance with his original intentions.

“I suggested we use four or five women of successive ages, ending up with an old woman without any teeth. Unfortunately, when the time came they only provided me with one old dear, upon whom I had to apply the pieces needed to make her look far in excess of her already advanced years, but she had a prominent nose and features totally dissimilar to Ursula’s. I had produced nine drawings as guidelines for the logical sequence of disintegration. So I wasn’t pleased with the end result.

“You see, the problem with most sequences of this sort,” Ashton continues, “is that during the process of ageing the face wastes away. The skin becomes very fine, the bones become pronounced and the hair thins extensively. Instead of diminishing the features, the makeup artist has to build upon what is already there, fattening and rounding the face to such a degree that the result is often. I think, implausible. If you ever have the misfortune to actually see a real corpse in an advanced state of decomposition, you’ll see that it is just putrescent skin and bone.”

In the Plague of the Zombies (1966) the zombies wore, on my suggestion, ones that were entirely white. Except for a little dot at the center which enabled the actors to see.

The assignment that gave me the most worry was the one where I had to turn a girl, actress Jackie Pearce into a serpent for a film called The Reptile (1966). It meant quite a lot of research and I eventually got a large snake skin which I cast in plaster to reproduce the scales on the make-up. It was a very difficult job because I had to give the girl a snake like snout with fangs and everything, while at the same time making it structurally and anatomically acceptable. You must do that. Otherwise people who may not understand anatomical structure will nevertheless feel that there is something not quite right.

Despite Ashton’s prowess at creating imaginative, economical makeup effects, the management at Hammer often disagreed with his ideas. ‘That was a common occurrence; they were seldom certain of what they wanted. However, it isn’t always that easy in the initial stages of a film to form a clear idea of what is required.

A model head of the Reptile, sculpted by Roy Ashton (1909-1995) as a keepsake. This model is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

Model head of the Reptile, sculpted by Roy Ashton (1909-1995) as a keepsake in about 1950. This model is from the Ashton & Leakey Collection. Roy Ashton and Phil Leakey (1908-1992) worked for Hammer Films during the 1950s and 1960s. They were pioneers of special effects make-up – using cosmetics and prosthetics to transform an actor’s appearance. Hammer Film Productions was founded in 1947. Initially, it made low-budget movies based on popular television and radio series, such as Quatermass. In 1957, it released the first colour gothic horror film, ‘The Curse Of Frankenstein’, which was an enormous succes. During the 1950s and 1960s it went on to produce a series of popular gothic horror films for which it has become renowned.

“When presented with a screenplay it can be very difficult for a makeup artist to grasp what a writer has in mind. Most writers— good writers—have a clear idea and can translate it into words, but there are those who do not appear to appreciate the difficulties which can face the makeup artist. For example, if a screenplay calls for an actor to blush—“He reddens under her gaze”-it is very awkward to present. How do you make an actor blush on cue? Well, you could put a red light on the chap’s face, though that’s not very good. Or you could touch up his face with blusher, though that too is not particularly authentic. Often one finds a writer’s indications frustrating. Not that I’m saying Jimmy Sangster was a bad writer, or John Elder, but at Hammer the scripts were left open when it came to specifics concerning the creatures.

Ashton returned to work for Hammer on Hands of the Ripper and The Devil Rides Out (aka The Devil’s Bride), designing the satanic apparitions of the latter.

Ashton also worked on a number of Amicus horror films, including The House That Dripped Blood (1971), Asylum (1972), and Tales from the Crypt (1972) where he supervised the makeup on several films for Amicus, producing one of his most memorable creations when he transformed Peter Cushing into the walking corpse of Grimsdyke, and worked on Tigon’s The Creeping Flesh.

Roy Ashton Filmography

The Curse of Frankenstein (1957) The Horror Dracula (1958) The Revenge of Frankenstein (1958) The Hound of the Baskervilles (1959) The Man Who Could Cheat Death (1959) The Mummy (1959) The Stranglers of Bombay (1959) The Two Faces of Dr. Jekyll (1960) The Curse of the Werewolf (1960) The Terror of the Tongs (1961) These Are the Damned (1962) The Phantom of the Opera (1962) Night Creatures (1962) Captain Clegg The Pirates of Blood River (1962) Paranoiac (1963) The Old Dark House (1963) The Crimson Blade (1963) Nightmare (1964) The Evil of Frankenstein (1964) The Kiss of the Vampire (1964) The Gorgon (1964) Dr. Terror’s House of Horrors (1964) The Curse of the Mummy’s Tomb (1964) The Devil-Ship Pirates (1964) The Skull (1965) She (1965) The Plague of the Zombies (1966) The Reptile (1966) The Devil Rides Out (1968) The House That Dripped Blood (1970) Hands of the Ripper (1971) The Devils (1971) Tales from the Crypt (1972) The Creeping Flesh (1972) Asylum (1972) The Vault of Horror (1973) The Ghoul (1975)

References

Fangoria Issue 035 Apr 1984 Roy Ashton – Hammer’s Monster Man (Philip Nutman)

Hammer’s House of Horror Issue 02 1976 Roy Ashton Interview (John Brosnan)

Want to Learn More, Purchase and Read

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Greasepaint and Gore: The Hammer Monsters of Roy Ashton Book

Roy Ashton – The “British” Jack Pierce The dead walk in this promotional shot for PLAGUE OF THE ZOMBIES(1966) Roy Ashton’s first major makeup’s was on Boris Karloff in The Man Who Changed His Mind (1936).

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