#how to write a phone call

[creativepromptsforwriting]

Hey! do you have tips to write a phone call? so what the character is doing during this time? i can't just write dialogue, right?

Hey :)

Here are some options for you:

How to write a phone call

Doing something other than talking:

washing dishes (very noisy)

folding laundry

brushing teeths (some people hate to hear that)

lying on their back on the floor or their bed, kicking up their feet, staring at the ceiling

walking up and down

getting distracted

trying on clothes, missing half of the conversation with their head stuck in a hoodie

doing their makeup and hair

drinking or eating

vacuuming (the noisiest)

I hope this helps!

- Jana

[sai-int]

fwb!simon, reader catches feelings- NO. FWB!SIMON BUT SIMON CATCHES FEELINGS. [ pt 2 ]

--

it's quite simple.

simon comes home from a mission, he's restless, twitching, pacing, can't figure out what to do with his hands.

so what does he do? he knocks on your door, waiting anxiously until you open it and he's scooping you up, hauling you across the hall and into his basically empty apartment, and fucking you into the mattress for the night.

and you're just so good at taking it—whatever he gives you and whenever he gives it. you cry, whine, beg and plead for his cock in all the ways you know how—until you go blue in the face—and simon fucking revels in it. he's all harsh words and degrading names, calling you a filthy slut, his cocksleeve, a fucking cumdump—you name it, he's probably said it.

it's perfect, until it's not.

he's spent months fucking you stupid, night after night. he fucks you even when he's not restless. he fucks you when he's bored, when he's lonely. especially when he's lonely.

simon riley's a gridlocked man. hardly anything ever gets past him, but it didn't take many rendezvous between your thighs for him to forget that.

his mask would come fully off—not just above his lips—and you'd still kiss him breathless, still scream his name until your throat went hoarse. you weren't afraid of everything underneath. if anything, you liked it.

It's not like the both of you frequently exchanged actual conversations, but he could tell by the way you dripped and soaked his sheets even more than you ever had.

after that, he even began to gather enough courtesy to let you get some rest after he fucks you, letting you stay wrapped in his sheets for whatever sliver of the night was left.

you never pushed, and that's what he liked most about you. you always went by his terms because you never really cared as long as you got fucked six ways from sunday.

so, you always left when he woke without a problem. that was the arrangement and you were more than fine with getting a good fuck only a few steps away from your own home.

then even you began to notice the shift.

simon could never fuck you badly, per se. but he began to fuck you more softly. tenderly, as if he was suddenly aware that humans shouldn't be bent in half as long he's had you pinned underneath him in the past. he'll rock his hips into you with similar fervor, but he'd caress you, rather than grab at you. hold your forehead to his, rather than choke you with his thick hands.

then came the praise. god, it's like fucking a completely different man. from one week to the next, you're no longer a slut or a hole, you're pretty girl and angel. it makes your head spin. you try to pinpoint the change and why it happened, but you can't. somehow, you cum twice as hard now.

it all came to an ugly head when he spent the better part of 2 hours between your thighs, moaning and groaning as if you were doing him a service.

now, you weren't going to complain, but love just wasn't in the cards for you right now, and the looks simon was giving you from where he lapped at your cunt were filled with adoration, like he was waiting for you to tell him how good he was doing.

hell, you could see a phantom tail wagging each time his eyes met your own. and after a session that felt more like making love than an explosion of pure lust, you could feel his eyes lingering on you as you slipped your panties back on.

"what?" you hum, not wanting to face him in fear you'd see that godforsaken look in his eyes again.

and you were right, because he's staring at you like he's about to drop to one knee. "nothin'."

you toss your shirt back over your head and steel yourself as you turn to face him.

"simon," you start and he's already hanging on your words, "what's going on with you lately? i don't mean to sound rude but—"

this is it, he thinks. it has to be now, or nothing will change. he's not a religious man, but if he's ever prayed to god for anything, it's for this to become something real.

"'m in love with ya."

one blink, then two. two to three, three to four. you stare at him as you try to piece together what he's saying.

"simon, i don't think you understand—"

"—i do. i do understand and i want ya, bad. so bad, i can't even stop thinkin' bout ya, sweetheart. even when y'not 'ere im thinkin' about ya. everything about y'is perfect, and i don't think i can function without y'with me."

this is the most emotion you've ever seen out of simon and it rocks you to your core. if you didn't know better—and if the lighting wasn't so dim—you'd think he was tearing up.

you didn't know how to break it to him.

[shanklin]

Stan and Ford never actually lose contact after the summer. Sure they don’t talk as much as they used to and it’s a bit lonely but some time apart did them good!

Ford tries not to be hurt by the fact that Stan was doing so well without him and found friends of his own the moment Ford’s presence stopped holding him back.

Ford also tried not to be hurt by the fact that Stanley refuses to come visit them. Even when their father called and ordered them to take Stan off his back for a summer, Stan wouldn’t budge. He made other plans with his new friends, who were normal and fun and nothing like Stanford.

Ford still only had one single friend to call his own. Don’t get him wrong, Ford loves Fiddleford but he made one big miscalculation when he told Stan to go back to New Jersey alone. Fiddleford wasn’t Stanley. There is no possible way for him to fill the void that Stan left behind.

Ford ignores Stan’s calls for three weeks straight after Stan refuses their father’s order to visit them the first time. 

Three weeks and one day later he picks up the phone and lets Stan apologize and make up excuses. He’s too tired of missing Stan to argue. If their calls are all Stan could spare for him, Ford will take them, those little scabs that, just for a couple of minutes, make him feel whole again.

Just like always they end their calls by slapping their palms against the phone in a makeshift high six and hang up. 

Stanford cries for a long time after.

Another year passes and Ford is pissed. Fine. If Stan won’t visit him, he’ll go to New Jersey himself and knock some sense into the knucklehead.

Grunkle Dipper and Grauntie Mabel ask him if he’s sure. They know how hard it was for Ford in New Jersey with all the bullies but Ford waves them off. He’s 14 now, almost 15, not a little kid and he managed just fine living in Jersey for the first 11 years of his life.

He doesn’t tell them that the only reason he survived those years was because of Stanley’s fierce protection.

Ford is pissed at Stan but he’s also excited to finally see his brother again. He’s gonna surprise him and then yell at him and then hug and go to the beach and see how the Stan o’ War is doing. Stan told him he made some improvements and he is excited about what ridiculous upgrade Stan came up with.

When they finally arrive at the pawnshop they’re met with police cars and an ambulance. The paramedics carry out a body bag and Stan is let out by the police in handcuffs. 

Stan's eyes widen in surprise but his expression closes off not a moment later. 

Everything happens in a blurr. 

His father is dead. His brother in custody and they’re being questioned by the police. 

Grunkle Dipper and Grauntie Mabel do most of the talking while Ford is not listening, hiding his hands in his pockets and looking at the ground.

“I want to see my brother.” is the only thing he manages to say. He ignores the concerned looks the adults give each other. He’s here to see Stanley and nothing else.

***

Then, finally, he gets his wish after days of waiting.

The social worker leads him to Stanley and tells him that she managed to get them some time to talk in private. 

It’s the first time in three years that Ford gets a good look at his twin. He’s not sure he likes what he sees. 

Stan is bigger than him, has more muscles. But not the kind you get from boxing. The kind you get from doing hard labor for a long period of time. Stan mentioned a part time job at the docks but now Ford fears there was more to this than Stan let on. Much much more, looking at the new scars Stan never mentioned. There was one on his forehead. One on his arms, a hidden one on his shoulder. Ford dreads to know what else Stan is hiding.

The worst part, however, is how despite all the muscles and scars Stan looks small. Pitiful even. It’s unsettling the way he won’t meet the social worker's eyes, the way he shies away from her kind touch. It’s nothing like the Stan he remembers. Nothing like the Stan he's been talking to for at least once a week for the past three years.

The social worker leaves them alone with a reassuring smile and Ford tries to find the right words. He thought this would be easy. That they would be able to talk with each other just like they always did.

“Stan-” Ford starts unsure of how to continue. Luckily Stan is two steps ahead and moves in for a hug. Okay that's good. Ford can do a hug. Ford opens his arms to let his brother in, only for Stan to open Ford's jacket and inspect the inside.

Ford blinks, arms still open.

“What are you doing, Stanley?” Ford asks, bewildered.

“Checking for bugs, genius.” 

Stan's voice had lost the quiver that had made him so pitiful just a moment earlier and took on an irritated and condescending tone instead.

He lets go of Ford's jacket as if he touched something especially nasty and throws himself into one of the many chairs in the meeting room and leans back. 

“Guess the bitch really did tell the truth, huh?”

Stan stares out of the window and frowns. 

“So what the fuck are you doing here? Pretty sure I told you I was busy again this summer.”

“Stanley..what happened to you? What did you do?”

Stan leans forward, looks deep into Ford's eyes and grins.

“Nothing they can prove.”

Stan laughs and keeps on laughing as Ford tries to make sense of it all.

Stan is mocking him. Just like their former classmates, just like the bullies.

Ford storms out and refuses to talk about the meeting.

Grauntie Mabel and Grunkle Dipper keep throwing each other concerned looks and Ford knows they're not only for him, but also for Stanley.

His brother has everyone fooled. He pretends to be a victim, hurt and afraid, telling lies about their father abusing him. He makes a show of it during the hearings and has the adults wrapped around his little finger. Some, Grauntie Mabel and Grunkle Dipper included, shed tears for him.

Stanford just watches and seethes. What game is Stan playing here? Why is he doing this?

In the end they let Stan go, judging their fathers death as an accident. 

Before they leave for Oregon Mabel sends them both on an errant run, which Ford knows is just supposed to function as some more bonding time between him and his brother.

The moment Stan leaves the adult's sight he drops his charade and stops looking like a kicked puppy.

“You never answered my question. What the fuck are you guys doing here?”

“We came to visit you, but clearly we shouldn’t have bothered. You were doing all so great by yourself it seems.”

“You only got that now? After I spent the last three years coming up with weak excuses not to see you?” Stan laughs. “And they call me the dumb one.”

Ford flushes in anger but holds it in. It makes no sense. If Stan really didn’t want anything to do with him, why the frequent calls? Why bother pretending missing Ford and all the apologies for not visiting. If Stan really didn’t care he would’ve just ignored him completely. It would’ve been easy.

Stan moves to leave but Ford grabs his arm and holds him back.

“Stan, enough with the lies. Tell me what’s really going on. Whatever it is, we can figure it out together. As a team.”

Stan twirls around and pushes Ford hard against a wall. For a moment he looks around at the empty street before gritting his teeth and almost growling.

“Don’t touch me, you freak!”

Ford barely registers the words as he kneels over from a punch to the gut.

Stan walks away and this time Ford lets him.

It’s the last time Ford sees his twin for a very very long time.

If only Ford had followed Stan that day, secretly stalked him through the hidden alleyways and closed off passageways. 

He would’ve seen Stan enter an abandoned building guarded by armed men on each side. 

And if he listened closely he would’ve heard Stan shouting for a man named Rico to show himself and demand to see the kids.

But Ford doesn’t follow Stan and so he will never find out what that was all about. 😌

*

*

*

*

*

*

*

“Where are the kids Rico?! If you did anything to them I swear-”

Rico throws up his hands, feigning innocence.

“Relax, Stanley, relax. I’m a man of my word. I don’t hurt kids.” Rico puts an arm around Stan's shoulder. Stan tries to wiggle out but Rico holds firmly in place. “I’m not like your dear old Pa, after all”

Rico slaps Stan on the back and ruffles his hair. 

“You’re welcome by the way.”

Stan uses the moment to put some distance between them and glares at the stronger man. 

“You nearly got me put in jail for murder!”

Rico grins and spreads his arms.

“I had full faith in you getting yourself out of it, my boy. And the show you put on? Simply wonderful. I almost shed a tear myself at your performance!”

“Where. Are. The. Kids. Rico?!”

Rico sighs and waves his hand. Some of his henchmen lead two kids, a couple years younger than Stan himself, into the room. The moment they see Stan they shout his name and run up to hug him. Stan holds both of them tightly in his arms.

“I missed you, dude!” The boy cries and hides his head inside Stan's shirt while the red headed girl glares at Rico standing behind Stan.

Stan looks them over and smiles.

“Soos, did you take good care of your sister?” Soos rubs his eyes and nods. Stan looks at Wendy, who gives him a thumbs up.

“Yes, very touching. Now let’s discuss business. I need all three of you on a plane to New Mexico in about 2 hours.”

All three of them? 

“What's the catch?”

There is no way Rico would let them go just like that. He must know they’ll run away the moment he lets them leave.

“There’s no catch. Do your job and no one gets hurt. If you choose to betray me though and run away.” Rico pulls out a knife and tips it underneath Stan's chin. Stan pulls Soos and Wendy behind his back. “Well I might just have to let my frustrations out on your dear twin. You two look so much alike, he’ll do nicely as a replacement.”

Stan snorts but schools his features and takes on a worried look.

“Eh, boss.” One of the henchmen butts in.

“Pines just beat up his brother before coming here. I don’t think that threat is gonna work”

Rico rolls his eyes and throws up his hands. 

“See what morons I have to deal with on a daily basis?” He tells Stan and then turns around to the henchman.

“He was obviously acting, you idiot.”

“Oh believe me. That wasn’t an act. You did your research. My family abandoned me. Hurt me. Why the fuck should I care about what happens to them?”

Stan takes both Soos and Wendy by the hand and drags them towards the entrance.

“But who am I to tell you how to do your business? So we’ll be off catching that plane and all that.”

Rico snorts.

“Oh Stanley, you’re a gambling man just like myself. That’s why I like you, but you’re a bit too young to fool me just yet. You will do just as instructed or it’ll be your brother who suffers. Maybe we’ll cut off his hands and sell them to one of those tourist trap freak shows. That way you can visit him while I’m hunting you down for betraying me.

Stan stops walking and deflates.

“Good boy.”

Selfish Shellfish AU - Masterpost

[bluerosefox]

Of Godsons, Fruitloops, and Lois 'I will drag all secrets out into the sun' Lane

Danny loses his parents due to their own lack of safety in the lab (death? Coma? People finally putting their foot down about the Fenton's endangering their kids? Idk pick). Jazz can't take him in due to being in college and living on its campus (and he didnt want to force her into an apartment just to keep him, he saw the prices and knows she'll have to work to make rent) and Danny fears the only place he can go to is... Vlad. (Sam's parents would never let him live with her and Tucker's place doesn't have the room)

Vlad's been lording it over Danny, smug about it all, after all he IS Danny's godfather and he has the space and money to provide for the boy in his time of need.

Only, when digging into Danny's files, his social worker discovers Vlad isn't Danny's godfather, he was meant to be but the Fenton's forgot to send/sign in the final paperwork (even if those documents were the only contact they had with Vlad over the years before the reunion)

No Danny's godparent, the person to take him should anything happen to the Fenton's is....

Lois Lane.

His mom's childhood friend.

[xf-cases-solved]

today we are sitting in our office at 6 in the morning thinking about...

that scene in "squeeze" that everyone knows by heart, where mulder asks scully, "do you think i'm spooky?" and it's very cute and weirdly sexually charged like all of their interactions are, but also that scene is really important to their character development actually??

this is episode three, and with the understanding that these two are unhinged and kind of speedrun the whole "i would die for you, you're everything to me, you jump i jump, etc" thing, ostensibly they're still getting to know one another, and, more importantly, mulder's still trying to gauge if scully is hashtag legit. like, his gut tells him that, yes, for some reason the fates aligned and made it so the shadow government fucked up real bad and actually sent him an ally instead of an enemy (and also she's not hard on the eyes either, just sayin'), and also she held a security operative at gunpoint for him just one episode earlier, so i think by this point he does genuinely trust that she doesn't have a secret agenda

what he is LESS certain of, however, is whether or not she is going to want to stick around once she fully understands just what a fucking bummer it is to be fox fucking mulder, resident hoover building loser. like she is this literal genius agent and medical doctor, who's professional and hot and kind, and she could easily have an extremely promising career ahead of her, and he doesn't think she understands just how detrimental it is for her to go all in with him. and this case, with these by-the-book buddies of hers, is the first time they are really facing that issue head on

going back to the aforementioned scene, mulder is testing her. through that whole bit, he's testing her. ("why didn't they ask me about the case?" "bc they're my friends and they're more comfortable with me" "why would i make them uncomfortable?" "bc of your reputation" "rEpUtAtIoN?? who has a reputation???") like he is trying SO hard to get her to stop talking around the issue and just say "they think you're a fucking freak, mulder," which ofc she won't, which is why, when she gives him the perfect set up with, "they think your theories are..." he IMMEDIATELY swoops in and asks, "spooky?"

and then he looks her in the eye and asks, "do you think i'm spooky?"

and he says it in his joking tone, but i fully believe that there is a genuineness there. he already knows before talking to colton and his cronies how the conversation is going to go, and he doesn't care, bc he doesn't care about their opinions, but he DOES care about her opinion, and i think that scares him. i think it's been a very, very long time since he last gave a shit about what someone thought of him, and he's extremely uncomfortable. i think that's why he goes so hard just seconds later with the straight faced "aliens are actually grey" thing with colton. he doesn't do it to taunt colton, or for his own amusement, but bc he wants to show scully flat out, "this is what they think of me, and this is how i am going to act in response. can you handle it? can you handle being a social pariah? or do you think i'm spooky?"

the theme comes up repeatedly in this episode, actually. he outright admits to being territorial over her, but in the same breath gives her permission to work on the case with colton instead of him, bc he KNOWS what a shit meal she's been served by the fbi, pairing them up together, but then she's like, "hmmm, idk, i think you must know more than you're saying and i wanna know what it is," and he is so delighted, bc not only does it mean that she's really committed to finding the truth, not just closing the case as fast as possible, but it also means that she's choosing him over them, and that N E V E R happens

but later in the episode he also makes the remark about how in thirty years she'll be "head of the bureau," which is another peek into his mind grapes, showing us that he's still very stuck on this idea that working with colton & friends is going to make her suddenly come to the realization of "oh wait, what am i DOING with this loser??" he's afraid of that happening, and he's afraid about the fact that he's afraid of it in the first place, and bc this is mulder and scully we're talking about, and neither of them are physically capable of saying what they're feeling, he just keeps making jokes and quips and being a dick to colton (who deserves it, but still), bc the alternative is admitting to scully, "hey, i really like your company and would kind of really very much like it if you didn't leave me for the cool kids agents," and he's not going to do that. not just bc of the vulnerability aspect, but bc he would view it as selfish, bc he fully believes that being stuck with him is bad for her (lol i wonder if that will become a theme throughout the entire series ha ha)

but anyway, turns out his worries are unfounded, bc it turns out scully will take being mrs. spooky over climbing the career ladder any day

"do you think i'm spooky?"

"no, i think you're a fucking nerd, now shut up get me my own desk. if we push them together we can play battleship, and then later we can get to know each other carnally"

or something

they're in love, your honor

this is only episode THREE

unhinged

[breadbrioche]

estimated time of arrival

so mun x reader

➳summary: mun is excited to see you after being apart for so long

➳warnings: takes place early season 2, accidental confessions

➳word count: 731

➳a/n: some fluff before whatever happens in this weekend’s episode

“Who’s Y/N?” Jeokbong asked, standing idly in the middle of the shop floor of Unnie’s Noodles while the other counters were rushing around him, carrying various supplies and decorations.

“Another counter on our team.” Motak explains while setting out the table. “They went overseas to help out with dealing with the evil spirits.”

“And they’re finally coming back today!” Mun added happily while entering from the kitchen, bringing in a ladder to hang up banners.

“How are they like? You seem really excited, Mun.” Jeokbong asked, noticing how bright he got at your mention.

“That’s only because he’s had a crush on Y/N since-“ Hana began with a smirk before she was cut off by a stuttering, red faced Mun who urgently pressed a hand on her mouth to silence her.

In his embarrassed state, the boy must have forgotten all about Hana’s aversion to touch as he was instantly thrown to the ground with a loud thud, making him groan painfully.

“Good god Hana! Is this really the time for that?” Ms Chu exclaimed while helping Mun to his feet. Hana rolled her eyes at Ms Chu babying Mun before continuing her previous task.

“Can someone call Y/N and see where they are now? I still haven't gotten started on making the noodles!” Ms Chu fussed. Mun immediately offered himself to do it and excused himself from the room to go to the downstairs gym speedily, ignoring all the snickers and hushed gossiping from the others.

Dialing your number, he held it up to his ear and the call picked up in only a few rings.

“Hello?”

Mun instinctively smiled hearing your voice, even if it was a bit muffled from the phone.

“Hey, it’s me. We were wondering how far away you were now since we last called. Everyone’s really excited to see you again.”

“I am too! You don’t even know how much I missed you all. Anyways, I think I’m about half an hour away now? So not too long”

“Are you kidding? That’s way too long! Tell the driver to hurry up or something” Mun complained playfully. He heard you sigh on the other side of the phone.

“You’ve already waited a year! This should be nothing compared to that. Jeez, you’re so impatient sometimes.”

“Well that’s only because it’s been that long! Why should I wait longer than I have to so I can see you again?”

You laughed at his whining and Mun’s heart fluttered at the sound. He placed a hand on his chest, trying to calm himself down; it’s just you, he told himself. There was no need to get so nervous.

“I’ll be there soon.” You reassured him. “Maybe you could help out Ms Chu or something to help pass the time”

“Fine.” He finally gave in. “But don’t you dare be late!”

“I’ll see what I can do. But don’t blame me if there’s too much traffic!” You warned him jokingly, making Mun chuckle.

“See you soon, okay? I love you.”

The words came out so naturally that Mun hadn’t even registered what he said until a few moments passed and he was met with a shocking silence on your end. Mun gasped in realization and hung up immediately, not knowing what else to do.

He groaned frustratedly as he slapped his face, scolding himself. So Mun you’re an idiot!, he thought regretfully.

Mun had half a mind to call you back and try to explain himself but millions of thoughts ran through his mind in a second; what if you don’t feel the same? What if you find it weird? How was he ever gonna face you again?

Mun was knocked out of his spiralling thoughts when he felt his phone vibrate in his hand. The screen lit up, showing a text notification from you.

<Haha you didn’t even let me say anything>

The boy’s shoulders relax slightly, relieved that you aren’t totally mad at him. As Mun tried to decide how to respond, he saw you send another text. But upon reading it, Mun thought his heart almost exploded.

A stupid grin grew on his face while his already erratic heartbeat quickens even more as Mun rereads the text over and over to make sure it his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him.

<But i love you too lets talk when I get home 💕>

[mxwhore]

[starmocha]

"You once had that spontaneous idea about trying different dumpling fillings. A child made that dream come true today." — Zayne, "Sweet Sachet"

[writing-is-hard-af]

Time to write a fix it. Or multiple.

[maaaaaaaaaagic]

has anyone written the riot scene from andrews pov yet?? I can’t imagine it doesn’t exist somewhere, and I need it biblically

[thatfriendlyanon]

i think part of my problem is i lived with my best friend for two years of my life and have been searching for the same feeling of joy & acceptance & support ever since

[am-i-invisible777]

[quintenrosenburgwrites]

their name is mirren! they're a.... detective maybe?? i mean they say they're a detective but there's no way that's true. they'd probably take at least three hours to realize there's something off about gingi. also they would likely be found in the cinema, after you've wandered around a bunch and some time has passed. there'd be an option to talk to the weirdo standing awkwardly by the popcorn butter station, and they would immediately say something so strange and stupid that the narrator needs a minute to process it

uhhhhhh i doubt many ppl will wanna but if u wanna ask questions (about or to them) feel free to, just make sure to specify that it's for them in the ask. i might do a quick doodle :)

[pinazee]

First season wrap up:

Okay, to start, i should mention my general opinion on first seasons for shows, especially cable shows, is not to read too much of it as canon. The writers, producers, actors- everyone- are all trying to figure out what works and what doesn’t, so i give them latitude, particularly when it conflicts with later seasons. That being said, i do enjoy jumping through the hoops to make it all fit haha

So heres a few leftover notes i had as i revisited the eps to rank them:

I bet part of Lassie was craving the father figure in Henry, since we find out later his own father passed away when he was quite young. I wonder if thats part of the reason why he became a cop, as they are portrayed as the protectors and in the 80’s they were mainly men (i don’t really remember if he states his reason later, i suspect he did and im just not remembering). So when Henry didn’t meet up to the expectation he had in his mind, i bet it hurt a little more as it reminded him of what he lost :/

I think the other reason Shawn plays dumb so much, besides hiding his genius so ppl believe hes psychic, or for laughs, is because its how he gets people talking. Like in Shawn vs. the red phantom, he purposely guessed the wrong room number so the boys would correct him. My apologies if someones pointed this out before, i haven’t combed through the internet for everyone’s theories 😬 i only now noticed. I’m not the quickest at picking these things up lol

If i had to guess, Shawn didn’t want to be a cop for halloween, he probably wanted to be something star wars related to go with Gus’s Lando. So i wonder at what age Shawn stopped trying to please his dad. But also, why didn’t his mother ever stand up for him?? I’ll come back to her later -_-

I somehow missed it the first time, but shawn clearly asked Gus to come to the dinner and Gus even points out that it was a big deal for henry to reach out. Soo, yeah, shawn obviously didn’t wanna be alone with his dad, and even henry seemed nervous about it as hes pretty drunk.

Shawn has a right to be afraid of pointy things, his dad hid his easter eggs under glass when he was 6! Not to mention he later gets stabbed 3 times! (Also its just a legitimate fear???)

So far the list of Shawns knowledge (things i wouldn’t expect an average person to know) includes (beyond the obvious observational skills, deductive reasoning, reading people (poker), and all things police (marksmanship, police codes, etc.)):

Incredible spatial and physical reasoning skills (knowing how much money could fit in the duffle bag, knowing to rotate the water pitcher to catch the reflection from the tv)

Kurt Vonnegut (well, I didn’t know who he was at least)

How to spell aggiornamento (and probably all words because of his photographic memory)

Handwriting expert

Casually spoke and understood german

Has every road he’s driven mapped in his brain, and likely all of Santa Barbara

Familiar with paint (enough to know to mix latex enamel for no messy drips)

Animal tracks (i went back and forth on this but ultimately decided he must have known what to look for)

And heres a list of Gus’s niche interests:

Forensics

Spelling bee

Safe cracking

Historic rifles

Comic books

Astronomy (even though he was going to the planetarium for the girl)

Law

Local tennis

Online poker

Lastly, Ive decided instead of ranking them, im putting them in tiers. I feel like too many of them are hitting at the same level and I can’t differentiate:

Sweetest, Juiciest Golden Pineapple Tier

Scary Sherry, Biancas toast (ohmygod i just got the biancas toast 🤦🏽‍♀️)

Blue Psych Logo Tier

Weekend warriors

Forget me not

From the earth to starbucks

Poker? I hardly know her! (Sorry @pineapple-psychic!)

Pepto Bismo Pink Tier

Spelling bee

Pilot

She loves me, she loves me not, she loves me oops hes dead

Who ya gonna call?

Shawn vs the red phantom

Oops Canadian Flag Tier

Cloudy with a chance of murder

9 lives

Game set muuurder

Speak now or forever hold your piece

Woman seeking dead husband, smokers okay, no pets

[flickeringquip]

(1) Gaslight Gatekeep Girlboss? (Damsel belongs to @rosurie. Cont of this post. NSFW below the cut!)

Now, usually when you find yourself in this kind of situation, it's with no small degree of bewilderment. Some measure of bafflement on to how you'd ended up in a position like this to begin with. A general confusion as to how it progressed this far.

As you and Damsel attempt to somehow kiss the other into submission — you can definitively say that is not the case this time around.

You know exactly why you're here and how it got this far:

(1) And it was definitely all Damsel's fault.

She's the one who started all this, and you keep that fact in the forefront of your mind as you break away from her kiss to begin trailing down her throat. When you suck a harsh bruise against her pulse and bite marks into the crook of her shoulder. When you pull back enough to admire your handiwork, and the scowl she casts up at you.

And when she tries to touch you, to regain some lost ground, you take her wrists and slowly pin them above her head. Your grip doesn't bruise, you do not rush or shove — you simply push until she gives, unyielding and inevitable as you smile down at her, maybe a little smug.

(1) "I told you before, didn't I? Tell me want you want, Damsel," You lean down and press your lips against the curve of the jaw, "Nicely."

Damsel stills beneath you, and you're pretty sure you're about to be cussed out — but when you lift enough to catch her expression, it's not anger that greets you, but supplication.

Somehow, you find that more unsettling, not less.

"I want to make you feel good, Aster," It's more than a little disarming, how easily Damsel flips moods, peering up at you, all wide-eyed and blown pupils — as if all her intent towards domination is suddenly only a distant memory.

You don't trust the act for a minute, but you are perilously weak to the sad eyes she shoots up at you.

—Which is probably how you find yourself the one pinned only a few minutes later, sighing internally at your own folly as Damsel wraps her hand around your throat with just enough pressure to be felt with every breath.

(1) But she sure does make it hard to focus on your slip-up, her free hand quick to set up on you with licentious intent.

Her hand squeezes around your small bust, grazing her thumb against a sensitive peak until your breath catches — and then she pinches, seeming to relish in the way you jolt beneath her.

"Bitch—"

Your half-hearted grumble is cut short by your own yelp as she twists harder, chasing the pain away by a dainty little kiss as she tuts at you.

"Language!"

Like she was some sort of saint.

(1) You don't voice your complaints about her hypocrisy — but only because the hands she steals between your thighs rates a bit higher in the bid for your attention.

And while it doesn't surprise you, the way she seems to delight in teasing you isn't any less frustrating now than it was throughout the week. Her fingers ghost around slick folds, biting her lip with a pleased, possessive gleam at finding you already so wet.

"Was this what you wanted all along, Aster?" Something covetous and sly burns in her gaze as she teases her fingers against your clit, feather-light, pulling away whenever you twitch or shift as if to press into her touch, "Did you just need some attention? All you had to do was ask, babe."

You can't quite stop the needy little sound that leaves you when she pulls her hand away for the umpteenth time, instantly regretting letting it slip as she grins at you, sharp and predatory.

"Didn't you hear me?" Her finger squeeze harder, cutting your air for a long, fraught beat before relaxing, "Ask."

(1) You're not sure you've ever had someone trigger your fight and freeze instincts so simultaneously before, tension winding in your middle as you struggle, caught between the sudden urge to either violently retaliate or beg for her forgiveness.

The latter edges out the former; even now, you don't want to hurt Damsel.

"Please, Damsel," You sigh the words, resigned to your momentary defeat as you peer up at her through lidded lashes, "I'll behave— promise."

(She's not the only person capable of lying.)

"Good girl."

The praise is pure heat licking down your spine, only added to by the slide of two dainty fingers inside of you as Damsel finally, finally stops teasing you (or at least stops teasing you quite so much — you aren't sure the woman's capable of not being at least a little teasing). As wound up as you'd already, it takes a flusteringly short amount of time for her to have you teetering the edge, just barely penning back noises that are surely going to mortify you later.

A salacious curl of her fingers and circle of her thumb have you biting your lip to stifle the moan your orgasm has welling up in your throat — only for it to be punched out of you all the louder by the punishing bite Damsel gives you in reprimand.

The low little giggle she gives suggests that that was entirely the point.

"Now, isn't that better?" She punctuates her coo with a curl of her fingers against nerves that send white-hot sensation through you, shuddering and still so very sensitive, kept still only by the vice hold she has around your throat, "Doesn't it feel good, being a good girl for me?"

(1) Your flustered glower only makes her laugh — and give your clit a pinch that makes you yelp.

"It's a little silly getting all mad about it when I can feel how wet you just got, babe," You don't appreciate her teasing, delighting in the flush painting your face as she plants a gleeful kiss against the apple of your cheek, "Don't worry, I'll keep your little secret safe — as long as you quit being all naughty, meddling where you shouldn't."

Your attempt to remind her why you'd done so is interrupted by the warning squeeze of her fingers around her throat.

The way Damsel smiles at your body's reaction to that is nothing short of victorious — and you decide all at once that her playtime is over.

(1) You roll her beneath you with a buck of your hips and a hand around the back of her neck, fingers sliding to tug at her roots as you narrow your gaze down at her indignant expression.

"You think I don't know any of your secrets, Damsel?" You aren't as nice this time around, yanking your tie from your messily unbuttoned shirt and tying her wrist snugly above her head, "You think I'm somehow deaf and blind to some of the schemes you pull over on people? Or better yet, how quickly you cave with certain personalities, so eager to wrap yourself around their finger?"

You stroke a finger along her cheek, and snicker when she tries to bite you, shifting as you work your way down her body.

"If you ever—"

You cut her off with a harsh bite to her thigh, soothing the mark with your tongue a moment later.

"Relax," You soothe, rubbing your thumbs into the divot in her hips, kissing higher up her thigh and smiling at how her leg trembles ever so faintly, "You and your secrets are as safe with me as you've always been, even if I think you're a brat sometimes."

She settles beneath you, even if she doesn't look particularly pleased about it.

(1) That's alright — you're pretty sure you know exactly how to make her feel better.

Damsel's voice pitches high on a cry, squirming in your grasp as you answer her climax with only increasing fervour, utterly refusing to let her come down even an inch as your fingers press new bruises into her hips. When her overstimulated whines shift once more into wanting whimpers, you wind an arm over her abdomen to keep her still and sink two fingers deep just to hear her keen, long since having learned all of her favourites spots. Your lips close around her clit and Damsel nearly screams, tears budding along her lash-line.

But you're not quite ready to grant her a reprieve just yet.

She'd only nearly screamed, after all.

(1) By the time you lift yourself back up to your knees, satisfied with the level of orgasmic devastation you've doled out to her, Damsel is a shaking mess spread out in front of you — and it's only your iron will that keeps you from going in for another bite.

Mostly figuratively. You eye the bite marks you've left behind with no small amount of satisfaction, even though you know she left just as many on you.

"Well, I feel better, don't you?" You sound downright cheerful, a fact that has Damsel cracking an eye open to huff at you, a little too wrung dry to be truly irritated at you as you lean down and give her one last kiss, unbinding her wrists along the way, "How about a bath when we get home? I'll do all the work."

She gives an imperious little sniff.

"It's the least you can do."

(1) You laugh, because of course — it is the least you can do.

[meowrimo]

the day the earth stood still is the day i felt your presence leave it, and then every day after that.