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#A movement like this? the last thing we want is to chase people away! We want people to get excited!
solarpunkani · 1 year
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You know what, while I'm doing hot takes. And this one may be obvious considering I'm actively contributing to hosting the Solarpunk Aesthetic Week event but like.
Dear everyone who's constantly deriding the aesthetic portions of the solarpunk movement/genre; do you just not understand that being able to visualize the future you want is immensely important to being able to work towards it? Being able to get other people on board with it?
When I first got interested in Solarpunk, it wasn't for the hot leftist takes about the top ways to dismantle the government for the people, or top tips on how to build your own solar panel apparatuses. What brought me in? Visions of a hopeful future. I learned and began to love the rest as I dove deeper into solarpunk circles, but there is no denying that my first intro to it--and likely many people's first intro to it--was via the art and aesthetic spheres. The term 'solarpunk' was literally coined to refer to the aesthetic movement, and we've been building up from there ever since.
'When are people going to realize the aesthetic parts don't matter and what really matters is praxis--' dude, the aesthetic parts do matter. Inspiring people does matter. Showing people visions of a hopeful future is immensely important, it's why so many people join this movement. We see glimpses of what a hopeful future could look like, through beautiful art or riveting stories, we're inspired by things like stained glass and organic designs and statues and fashion concepts--and then we think to ourselves 'how can we help make this future happen?' And we learn the praxis and we work towards the goals and we share it with others because that's just how we work.
Seeing isn't always believing, but sometimes in order to believe in something with your whole heart, it helps to be able to visualize what you want. For yourself and for others.
So yes. The aesthetic parts of solarpunk do matter. Thank you for coming to my TEDTalk.
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nitewingbabi · 9 months
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↳ a pretty mouth             ⚤ ghostface x female!reader  【 18+ ONLY — Minors DNI 】 warnings ⇢ drinking, sexting, knife play, fingering, oral (m receiving), swearing, orgasm denial, pinning, mentions of blood/killing, degrading,  ✉ taking requests first part  ▻  please respond…i showed you my cock
It had been days since any kind of attack or sign of ghostface. You almost believed he had disappeared, but it was still in the back of your mind. You never responded to his messages that he sent, and he never came to see you. Not that you really wanted him too. 
He was psycho. But there was something about his voice and not knowing who was behind that mask that just made your stomach flip the right way round. 
You had multiple missed phone calls from a private or blocked number. You had the upper hand for once.
➤ you can’t ignore me ➤ i’m not going to stop  ➤ you can try to shut me out, but i’ll find a way to get back in ➤ and when I do, i’m going to bury myself in that sweet pussy
His texts turned you on the more he sent them. All laced with dirty things you tried not to enjoy. 
Clearly you needed to give him something to make him chase you harder. Your parents would start to get suspicious of the large water bills coming through, and the last thing you wanted to give up was your shower head time every night. You felt possessed almost, turning yourself on as you dreamt of him climbing through your window of the night, holding a knife to your throat as he fucked you in ways you haven’t experienced before. 
Your legs began to rub to get friction, you needed to stop putting these thoughts in your head. He was a serial killer. The last thing you needed was to be fucking the town’s killer who had threatened your life countless times as well. 
When you finished school you went over to your friend’s house to get ready for a party that was happening over the weekend. All day you had multiple messages from him. Nothing new, that was until. 
🟪 Gfce23 sent you a snap 
The purple box told you everything you needed to know. It was video, with audio. You excused yourself from her room, heading into the bathroom. Opening the video it was once again his cock in his gloved hand, his body more in view this time for you to get a better look. Eyeing over his pale skin. 
“Ughnf—this is all for you.” Your clit throbbed at the sudden moaning that came from your phone. Walls tightening at his words. ‘This is all for you’. You licked your lips at the sight of the red tipped cock on your screen that thrusted into his leather glove. 
“F-f-fuck y/n.” Hearing him say your name mixed with a whimper as he pumped himself, stomach flexing every time he gasped and his movements picked up just a little more. You found yourself with your fingers dancing between your legs again, toying with yourself. The video ended there. No big finish for you. Your flustered state calmed down when you returned to reality and remembered where you were. 
“Jesus, fuck!” You hissed, running fingers through your hair as you tried to finish getting ready. You knew it was wrong but you couldn’t help lusting after him. Evening came finally and it was time to get drunk and enjoy your weekend. No school, no studying, no homework. Just alcohol and boys. Walking into the house it was already crazy, everyone dancing and rubbing themselves up against each other. 
A few mindless games of spin the bottle, truth or dare, and many more kids games. You found the keg, pouring yourself a drink before feeling a tap on your shoulder. It was the same guy whose been chasing after you since the first grade. 
“Hey y/n, long time no see. Feel like we never talk anymore babe.” You cringed at the pet name he gave you. You liked princess better anyway. 
“That’s because we aren’t even friends, I don’t talk to people who aren’t my friends.” You snipped back, walking away from the over-confident jock that didn’t want to take no for an answer it seemed. You swung your head back and downed the drink in the red solo cup. 
“Look, y/n. Just give me one chance and if you aren’t into it then I’ll leave you alone.” He chased you. But not in a ‘I’m gonna kill you’ way that you for some reason missed. You felt bad that you never did give him the time of day, and the alcohol was already going to your head. So what was one dance? You allowed him to grab your hand and take you to where everyone else was dancing, rolling your hips against him and allowing yourself to just relax. 
It was hard too when you were so sexually frustrated, after what felt like forever of dancing you found your friend. Letting her know you were leaving and going home, she was too busy dancing with a group of guys to care. You thought about walking home but chose to Uber instead. 
It was just up the road but in your tipsy state, in a short skirt and with a killer on the loose? What could go wrong? 
Your parents were once again gone for the night, using the time away to connect and get their marriage back on track. You didn’t turn on the lights, leaving the house dark and making your way upstairs to your room. Opening the door you didn’t know what you were expecting, but seeing it dark and just as you left it was disappointing. You walked over to your vanity, turning on the lamp and eyes looking into the reflective surface. 
Your eyes shot open and you sobered up at the sight of a white mask and dark cloak leaning against your clothing dresser. Your heart began to race and you stood up, turning around to face the masked figure who had been on your mind day and night. 
“Surprise princess.” His familiar voice had you buckling at the knees. You wanted to drop to them and suck the one thing he had been teasing you with the last few times you spoke. 
“Get on the bed. Now.” A sharp piercing feeling was against your leg, looking down you saw the knife he held in his hand against the flesh of your exposed thigh. Hard enough to indent your skin but not to actually pierce you. 
You nodded as you walked backwards, sitting on the soft surface and using your elbows to keep you elevated. Eyes looking into the dark black mesh that hid your mystery killer’s eyes. 
“Don’t think I didn’t see you dancing tonight princess. Open your legs.” You did as you were told and audibly gulped. You never saw ghost face at the party, you wondered where he could have been for him to be able to watch you in such a crowded house. Your thigh was met with a cold, metal against it. His knife slowly dragging up from your knee all the way to the crease where your pubic region met your leg. 
He looked down between your legs, eyeing off the cute short skirt and red panties you had on. The same ones he loved seeing you in when you first tried them on. He let out a low groan before swiftly flicking his wrist so his knife teared at the delicate lace. 
$60, down the drain. But you didn’t care. You just wanted to feel him against you, touching, rubbing, sucking. Your breath hitched as he lowered himself, the mattress dipping on each side of you as he positioned himself between your legs and removed the lacy garment blocking his view. He tilted his head to the side, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he saw your creamy hole gaping. How he wanted to fill it. His leather covered fingers reached out and began to rub at your wet folds, moving the creamy arousal over your clit and labia. Teasing your core with soft, slow touched. You gasped as he dipped a finger into your cunt, a thick ring of cream engulfing his finger as he entered you. 
He began pumping, curling his finger each time to graze against your sensitive walls. You began letting out soft mewls at the sensations in the pit of your stomach. A sensation you had only been able to get from a shower head and your own touch. Without warning, he added another two fingers, thrusting harder and quicker now and watching your hips bucking to meet his every movement. 
“Look at you, this pink pussy is aching to be touched. I’ve barely started and you’re almost unravelling under my fingers. How many can you take before I have you begging for more?” He hissed as he added his thumb to your clit, watching you let out a squealed whimper and jerk your body under his touch. He chuckled darkly at your reactions, watching your fingers grab at the blanket comforter underneath you.
Your orgasm was building quickly and you wanted to let go. But ghostface, had other plans for you. Before you could even mutter a ‘I’m gonna cum’ he removed himself completely. Hearing you almost cry from pain at the loss of pleasure. 
“Oh no, you don’t get to cum yet princess.” You let out a whine at his words, squirming under his arms. He grabbed your wrists, pinning you to the bed and grinding his cock against your core. It was hard and only made you beg for more. 
“I want to hear you say you would’ve been honoured to have been killed by me. That it makes you wet and turned on that I could kill you right here, right now. And no one could stop me.” Excitement mixed with panic filled your stomach as you thought about how he would react if you didn’t say it. 
“It turns me on, that I’m so helpless and weak, that you could kill me right now and no one would help me…or stop you.” You had to admit to yourself sheepishly, that it was erotic. 
“Such a pretty princess, with a pretty pussy. And a pretty mouth. I think we should see how good it feels.” He pulled you to the floor with a loud thud, your wrists hurting from being held in place for so long. He undid the black cloak, the velcro ripping and revealing black jeans. His member pushing against the rough material just dying to get out. 
You decided to unbutton his jeans and pull his dick out. It was just as you remembered, pink, swollen and veiny. His tip ached to be touched, a drip of precum oozing out his slit and and running towards the edge of his head. Your eyes met his mask, his hand came to your head and pushed his member past your lip and into the warm embrace of your mouth. 
He moaned loudly for the first time, and it made you ache all over again. He thrusted his hips, fucking your throat feverishly and throwing his head back in pleasure. Muttering all kinds of vulgar words under his breath at the sensation he had been chasing since the first time he saw you. You gagged and coughed at the sharpness and uncomfortable feeling of him hitting the back of your throat. 
Spittle running down the corners of your lips and chin as he relentlessly unleashed his strength onto you. 
“Fucking take it princess, don’t forget how many people had to die for me to feel your pretty lips around my cock. Take it all. Fucking cock-slut.” His degrading words only sparked you to work his member harder, bobbing your heads in rhythm with him now and swirling your tongue around your mouth in no rhythm at all. He didn’t chase his orgasm, your pussy was his endgame. 
“On the bed and get on your hands and knees.” He growled, annoyed at himself for not reaching his own high. 
“What should I call you?” You asked innocently, big eyes batting at him as you stood to your feet and moved back onto the soft, plush mattress. 
“Call me your master.” You moved onto your hands and knees, feels his gloved hands curl around your ankles and pull your legs further apart, in response you also arched your back even more. 
“This is gonna be fun.” 
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pacifymebby · 8 months
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I cry when people yell at me(parent issues™️) and I was wondering how the peakys would react to that, like I can handle most things but yelling is like a big nono for me, would they be concerned or tease me for that, I don't think they will but I'm interested on how they'll react to it for the first time it happens, or if I yell back for the first time? You just do a great job at writing these characters💛
( im sorry if this is too personal or whatever)
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AN: not too personal my lovely dw, here at Pacifymebby dot Tumblr dot com we (me) totally specialise in ✨ fanfiction as therapy ✨ haha. Sorry these have taken me ages to do. I'm also a crier when men shout at me so I hope I've written this how you wanted!!!!
Tommy
🌿 Is genuinely very shocked when, mid argument, you start crying. You've seen so much worse than this, you've witnessed some terrible things because of him and his brothers, the fights they get into every week. Only last week you'd watched with as calm a demeanour as one could manage, whilst Arthur had a violent breakdown and smashed a chair up at the dinner table. You'd not shown a shred of fear. But now, here you are, silent, heartbreaking tears streaming down your face and why?
🌿 because Tommy raised his voice at you.
🌿 you couldn't even remember what you'd been arguing about now. You'd seen red and blue fear in your mind the second he'd raised his voice. You'd watched him lose his temper with you, his jaw tense, his face going red as he yelled at you, his expression so angry, so cold and unforgiving. And it had shocked you. Tommy had never raised his voice at you before. You'd seen him shout at his brothers but he'd never shouted at you.
🌿 and the sight of you suddenly drained of colour, your skin taking on that strange bloodless translucency as you starred back at him wide eyed and fearful... it shocks him. You're looking at him like you don't recognise him and suddenly there's a lump in his throat.
🌿 He reaches out for you but you flinch away from him, backing away slowly and then suddenly fleeing, running away, vision blurred by your tears. You don't really know where to go and you can here him calling after you, but his voice raised shouting down the hallway for you only makes it worse. Only adds to your fear.
🌿 you're certain that you're in trouble so you don't stop even when he calls after you. Thing is he hasn't even said he's sorry. Hasn't realised why you're running from him.
🌿 "Y/N love for fuck sake what're you doin... we need to talk about this... Y/n stop!"
🌿 He's chased you out to the gardens, still shouting, still not getting the hint... it's only when he shouts again, louder this time, screaming your name across the lawn that you freeze. His voice seems to shake the whole world and it strikes the fear of god into you. So you stop. And he thinks thats the problem solved, that you've stopped running away from him now so he can return to you and you can talk like grownups.
🌿 but when he gets closer to you you back away some more, and even when he warns you to wait for him you edge away. Every step he takes you take one back until you find yourself backed up against a tree, looking at him with all this fear in your eyes.
🌿 He's careful as he approaches, one arm out to you, trying to coax you back to him... he can see that something has absolutely terrified you but it's only when he gets close enough to touch you, only when he brings his hand up to fix your hair that he realises what you're scared of.
🌿 "Don't hurt me!" You gasp, eyes squeezed shut, your body rigid with fear as you bring your hands up to protect your face. And it's that which makes him realise. That movement, that fragile tremble in your voice as you beg him not to harm you that breaks his heart.
🌿 and the realisation hits him like a freight train, chokes him. He can't believe you're frightened of him. He can't believe it's him who has caused you all this terror. You're trembling, your hands shaking the way a rabbit shakes when it knows it's being hunted.
🌿 He let's out a sigh, closes his eyes and tried to steady his own shaken nerves. He doesn't want to scare you anymore.
🌿 "Y/n, angel listen to me girl, I'm not going to hurt you..." he says, his voice a gentle caress as he takes your trembling hands in his, draws them away from your face and places them on his chest. He holds then both to his heart underneath his hand and with the other he cups your cheek. Makes you look up at him, catches your tears with his thumb and brushes them away.
🌿 "I scared you," he says looking at you ever so mournfully, he feels so guilty and you can see the hurt in his eyes. It just makes you feel worse and you shake your head trying to apologise. You can feel his heart beating beneath your hands, it's racing, his adrenaline too high and you feel guilty yourself because you made him angry.
🌿 "I'm.. I'm so sorry Tommy I made you angry I shouldn't have pissed you off its not..." but he cuts you off, finger pressed to your lips to hush you as he steps closer to you, his body so close to yours that you have to tilt your head back to look up at him. His head is bowed to look down at you.
🌿 "Shh now angel I'm talkin yeah, my turn to talk now eh so listen to me..." he's being ever so gentle, his hand holding your hip, the other tucking your hair behind your ear and stroking your cheek. He doesn't look harsh or sharp anymore, instead of anger his eyes are full of love. "Don't you apologise to me sweetheart, please don't do that... I'm sorry I shouted at you angel, shouldn't have done that but listen to me now eh cause this is important..."
🌿 You can't take your eyes off him, you're still shaking, still crying, your hearts still racing, but you're not frightened anymore. He's looking down at you with such an intense honesty, you can see the remorse in his eyes when he talks to you in that sweet gentle voice.
🌿 "I will never hurt you alright, I promise... even if I'm angry yeah, even if we're havin a blazing bloody row, I won't ever lay a finger on you like that sweetheart, I won't ever hurt you.."
🌿 You'd probably start crying all over again, burying your face in his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you and hold you tight. His hand stroking your back as he bows his head to place a kiss on yours. He'd cradle your head against his body and rest his chin in your hair. Close his eyes, hold onto you tight and treasure the feeling of you in his arms.
🌿 "You really fuckin scared me Tommy..." you'd sniffle struggling to calm yourself down.
🌿 "I know angel, I know and I'm really fuckin sorry alright..."
Alfie
🐻 He didn't mean to shout, Alfie's never raised his voice at you before because he doesn't believe in shouting at women and girls. He has a very firm, traditional view on that and he's stubborn about it too. No swearing, shouting and hitting women and girls.
🐻 The only reason he shouted is because he panicked, you were wandering around in a daydream so you hadn't noticed the tension in the bakery when you'd entered through the back door on your way to see your beloved. Tommy Shelby had just left, informing Alfie that he'd set up a trip wire to ensure his safety, that if he tugged on the string in his hand he would pull the pin from a grenade which would blow up half the bakery, starting a monstrous fire which would probably kill all inside. All those barrels of rum would go up in flames.
🐻 And you were one step from tripping that string which Tommy had tied to the leg of Alfies desk all, "I'll let you deal with this, have a think about what I've said whilst you work eh, careful though, its a delicate procedure..."
🐻 So when he'd seen you Alfie hadn't thought twice, shouting "Y/N stop! Stay there, fuckin don't move!" and luckily you'd frozen. Your body going rigid as the fear struck you like lightning.
🐻 He'd startled you for sure but more than that the sound of his voice ricochetting around the room, the voice of a man who was usually so tender and gentle with you, always so protective of you.. He'd never spoken to you like that and hearing it now struck ice cold fear into the very bones of you.
🐻 Alfie doesn't even notice at first, doesn't notice how you've gone white as a sheet, can't even move, he's too worried about that wire, too busy trying to work out what to do. Hoping there's a chance Tommy was bullshitting him. Hoping that actually there's nothing to fear.
🐻 And poor you, you're just stood there, hand clutched over your mouth starring at your love in shock. You don't know what to do because you don't want to embarrass yourself by bursting into tears over a little shouting, but you already know it's too late. Alfie really scared you, and he's never scared you before.
🐻 So you can't hold it back, you're trembling all over with the effort of fighting your tears, some have already escaped, you've swallowed down a sob already but it's the fact that Alfie's not even looking at you. The way he shouted at you so sharply, so harshly, and he isn't even looking at you now. You're struggling to reason with your own anxiety, convinced that you've done something wrong, that he hates you...
🐻 but then he hears it. The sound of your choked sob, one you'd tried and failed to hold back. And once the first escapes the damn breaks and you're in floods of tears. You don't move, frozen to the spot but your hands are over your face and your crying so mournfully that the sound sends an icy shard through Alfie's heart. Suddenly the hidden explosive is the least of his worries.
🐻 "Fuck," he grumbles to himself, telling himself off for snapping at you, "gentle Alfie what have I fuckin told you man, sometimes yeah you have to be fuckin gentle..." he's grumbling to himself as he reassesses his predicament. He knows he needs to get to you and get you to safety but he knows he can't get to you without risking your safety.
🐻 So he sighs. "Ziskeit, my dear, y/n poppet I'm sorry yeah, didn't mean to shout at you ziskeit, didn't mean to shout.. that was just me you know... panickin right, but I shouldn't have shouted at you yeah lovely girl I'm sorry..." he's making his way towards you very slowly and very carefully, talking soft and gentle, hands out because he doesn't want to startle you. His eyes flickering with concern between you and the wire you almost tripped.
🐻 "See my ziskeit, down there right by your feet yeah, there's a wire right and I need you to be very careful cause it's very dangerous yeah..." he doesn't want to scare you more than he already has but he also doesn't want you to move and accidentally set it off.
🐻 When he finally gets to you he doesn't hesitate to wrap his big arms around you and give you the warmest, tightest bear hug. He holds you firm against his chest, strokes your hair and cradles your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His beards tickley on your cheek and you're all wrapped up in the comfort of his musky scent.
🐻 "There, there my little ziskeit, s'alright now yeah, your Alfie's got you my darlin an he ain't lettin you go.."
🐻 He takes your hands from your face, won't let you hide and then he wipes your tears away with his thumbs. You can't just turn the waterworks off though and the tears keep coming.
🐻 Alfie feels so guilty.
🐻 But he'd hold your face in his hands and put his forehead against yours, looking down into your watery wounded eyes with such an intense devotion.
🐻 "Didn't mean to scare you poppet, please don't be scared now yeah, I'm here, I love you... I didn't mean to shout."
🐻 He'd probably call Ollie or one of his trusted men for help, he'd be instructing them on how to undo and disarm Tommy's trap, all the while still holding you and hushing you. The contrast between the way he barks orders at his men and then turns to you with the most tender, soft voice, shushing you and stroking your hair.
🐻 Promises he'll never shout at you again, but also, because he knows what he's like he also promises that if he does raise his voice at you, it won't be because he's angry and it won't be because he hates you. It'll be because he'd a stupid old man who forgets himself sometimes.
🐻 You'd sniffle, this shy smile on your lips as you tell him "you're not a stupid old man..." and he'd just chuckle, kiss your nose and brush your hair away from your tear stained cheeks, probably catching another tear on his thumb. "I am for making my ziskeit cry, but, you have my word now don't you girl, ain't ever gonna make you cry again..."
🐻 It's a big promise but Alfie is truly devoted to you and so protective of you that he really does hold it against himself forever. He's always viewed himself as your protector so the idea that you were scared of him is horrifying to him. He really does intend to keep his promise.
🐻 Will set a rule in the bakery and the warehouses that if you're around nobody is to raise their voice for any reason. He'll spin some bullshit about how it's very fucking rude and inconsiderate to shout when there are women and children present. If anyone breaks that rule Alfie will not hesitate to silence them in his own special way.
Arthur
🍂 It's probably not the first time this has happened let's be real here, this is probable not even the first time this has happend this week...
🍂 Arthur's emotions aren't exactly the easiest thing to endure... for either of you. He has a quick temper and he doesn't know how to express himself. If he's scared he turns to violence, if he's upset, he turns to violence, if he's angry, violence... even when he's happy or excited something usually gets broken, he usually forgets himself, talks too loudly... shouts...
🍂 And even though you're used to Arthur and his loud, uncontrollable and often unpredictable ways, you've never been able to get used to his yelling. You've always been easily startled and people yelling, raised voices has always set you on edge. And when someone shouts at you well, you always cry. You can't help yourself and you feel so stupid for it sometimes too... especially when it's Arthur who has made you cry because you know you should be used to it by now. You know what he's like... when he shouts and you start crying you always feel like a stupid child who can't control her own emotions.
🍂 But Arthur understands how that feels. It's not like he can control his either...
🍂 So of all the Blinders Arthur is the most sympathetic. It's not just that he feels terribly guilty for making you cry, it's that he hates how bad about yourself it makes you feel too and he wants you to learn not to be so hard on yourself.
🍂 So, he's always trying his best not to shout, for whatever reason... sometimes he comes home ecstatic about something that happened at the Garrison, he's half way through shouting through the house for you when he cuts himself off.
🍂 "Nah what have I fuckin told you Arthur Shelby, indoor voice for y/n, nice, gentle indoor voice..."
🍂 But of course this is Arthur and no matter how hard he tries he forgets himself and loses control on the regular. And when he does you also lose control... Arthur is an intimidating man at the best of times and when he shouts he is so fucking scary... especially when he's shouting because he's angry, and especially if he's shouting because he's arguing with you...
🍂 When that happens you probably don't just cry, you burst into tears, really dramatically... you'd shrink away from him, curl up on the floor crying your heart out, shaking, sobbing into your skirts and then when he realises what he's done it hits him in the gut and he does cold, panicks. He feels so guilty for scaring you again and rushes to try and hug.
🍂 Gets down there on the floor with you and bundles you up in his arms. His whole demeanor changes in an instant, all the fight knocked out of him in seconds as he rushed to comfort you.
🍂 Cradles you to his chest, rocking you to sooth you as he apologises over and over again. "For fuck sake darlin come here, fuckin 'ell I'm such a bloody idiot, I'm sorry my darlin I'm fuckin so sorry alright... didnt mean to scare you girl, y'know I love you don't I, ain't gonna hurt you, didn't mean to scare you just forgot meself that's all, you're alright my girl, I've got you eh, your Arthur loves you very much an he's very fuckin sorry for being such a fuckin dinlow eh..."
🍂 You'd be clutching at his shirt, sobbing into his chest, doing your best to calm yourself down, mentally chastising yourself for being so stupid because you know he didn't mean it, you know it was an accident, that you're safe with Arthur, that he won't ever hurt you... but even so, he scared you so much...
🍂 you'd push yourself up in his lap and try to wipe your tears away, probably trying to pull away from him and act as though everything was fine even though all you want to do is nestle deeper into his embrace and hold onto him until your heart stops racing.
🍂 And Arthur knows you well enough to recognise what you're doing so he isn't going to just let you go and pretend you're fine.
🍂 "Right now where dya think you're goin darlin..." he'd start, catching your hand and tugging you back into his lap, his arm locking around your waist, the other hand using his sleeve to dry your eyes. "Look at me yeah, got all the time in the world eh so I don't know what you're rushin off for darlin..."
🍂 "S'alright I'm alright now Arth was just being stupid wasn't I, you didn't scare me it's fine just bein..." but he'd cut you off shaking his head, giving you that frown which means 'dont give me all that rot y/n, I know you.'
🍂 "Nah," he'd say, "now don't start with all that shit now darlin, not wi me eh, I did scare you and you ain't stupid for bein scared neither... you ain't stupid at all..." "but..." when you try to argue he holds your face in both hands, your nose pressed up against his, his scruffy hair tickling your cheek as he gets right up close to you. His eyes are so intense when they lock with yours. "No buts now sweetheart, I fuckin scared you, I know I did and I'm fuckin sorry for it too... I'm the one who lost control so I'm the one who has to apologise right love, so I'm fuckin sorry yeah sweetheart, I hate scaring you an I never wanna do it again yeah... need to start using me fuckin brain eh love..."
🍂 But you hate seeing him put himself down so you're there holding his face in your hands too, looking up at him with such intensity, such stubbornness, it would be infuriating for him if he didn't currently feel so guilty. "You're not a fuckin idiot Arthur... don't call yourself stupid alright..."
🍂 For you and Arthur these scenes always end in the most loving of embraces, him holding you tight against him, you sitting in his lap on the floor, the two of you holding onto one another so carefully, so lovingly, your eyes locking as you tell eachother again how much you love one another. Your lips meeting in a desperate adoring kiss. One neither of you want to pull away from.
🍂 "Fuckin love you my darlin, don't even mean to upset you eh, I'll try harder yeah, Indoor voice from now I promise..." he says in as close to a whisper as Arthur Shelby can manage, kissing your face all over. Kissing away the last of your tears.
🍂 He always promises he won't shout at you again, you always promise you'll stop crying when he does. Both of you know that in a couple days time you'll be going over the whole routine again.
John
🌼 For all that John is a very laidback man, he has a temper on him and he has a very strict sense of morals, right and wrong (despite all of his moral activities) and when he feels strongly about something he will argue about it... and he has a temper on him.
🌼 When he loses his temper things can get messy, too emotional... He doesn't usually lose him temper with you though and so when he does it comes as even more of a shock.
🌼 He doesn't mean to start shouting at you, he already knows you don't deal well with it... Your voices have both been raising slowly as the arguments been escalating and when he finally starts really shouting you shout right back...
🌼 He didn't even realise he'd shouted until he heard your voice shouting back... suddenly cracking because you're trembling, because you've been fighting back your tears and they've just escaped.
🌼 He sees the tears streaming down your face and realises that you aren't even shouting because you're angry, your shout was one of fear. A "Stop it! Stop fucking shouting at me John fucking stop it!" Your hands over your ears as you shout at him from across the kitchen table, your eyes desperate with heartache and fear.
🌼 For a second you're looking at him with real upset and shock, like you don't recognise him at all, like he isn't your John anymore...
🌼 He feels terrible. He's gripped with guilt, a pain in his throat squeezing and aching, he's choked up by tears in his own eyes. Sometimes feelings are too big and John can't handle them.
🌼 Views himself as being the good family man, a loving, caring husband, a protective father, the man who looks after everyone, provides for them, so the idea that he could have done to his wife the one things she really can't handle, disgusts him. He's really disappointed in himself and he's determined to make it up to you.
🌼 He'd raise his hands up in surrender, his eyes full of guilt, his cheeks a little flushed as a tear escapes his eye, he's stepping away from the table, approaching you cautiously.
🌼 "Am sorry flower, I'm sorry..." his voice is wobbling but he's talking quietly now, as if lowering his voice like this is going to make up for the violence of his shouting at you moments before... and it does a little, or at least, his sudden effort to be gentle and careful calms you, lets you know you're not in danger.
🌼 He'll wrap his arms around you carefully, waiting for you to come to him, waiting for you to let him hold you. But when you feel the outline of his embrace you crumble, throwing your arms around him, sobbing into his neck as he closes his hold around you a little tighter, keeping you secure.
🌼 He'll hush you and rock you, doing his best to calm you down, all the while apologising for losing his temper.
🌼 "I'm so sorry little flower, I shouldn't have shouted at you, shouldn't have lost me temper that was fuckin stupid of me wasn't it..."
🌼 Lots of kissing your hair and your forehead. Will hold you as long as you need to calm down.
🌼 Will wipe your tears and tap your nose. Will hold your face in both his hands, thumbs brushing over your cheeks, forehead to forehead promising you very passionately that he'll never shout at you like that again. You can see it in his eyes how strongly he feels, he's got tears in his eyes and he's perhaps crying a little too. He's talking but his jaw is clenched and the words are forced through his teeth so they come out really shaky but certain.
🌼 You catching his tears on your thumbs and brushing them away. The two of you eventually smiling at that, making a little joke about how over emotional you both are.
🌼 If you try to apologise for having cried, or if you try to joke about your tears, how silly it was of you to cry just because he shouted at you he will shake his head, cut you off all "no, no... no way flower, you ain't silly for cryin, you ain't supposed to like bein shouted at and your husband definitely ain't supposed to be shoutin at you like that neither..."
🌼 He'll be extra sweet to you for many days to come, bringing you flowers, talking particularly gently to you too. Lots of affection, hugs, kisses, holding your hand whenever he can, layering it on thick so that you know he still loves you... he knows how sensitive you are and knows that you'll still be worrying about the argument days later, so he'll do as much as he can to show you he loves you.
🌼 Once during a particularly heated family meeting Tommy shouted down the table at you for something you said, John was livid, white as a sheet with rage as he put his arms around you and stood protectively behind you. He was glaring so sharply his stare could have sliced Tommy open. Later you heard them scrapping when everyone else had left.
Bonnie
🍀 Bonnie is such a calm lad, he never shouts even when he's threatening other people. He's not the kind of man who raises his voice unless he really has to, he's usually the quietly threatening, controlled anger, spitting his threats through gritted teeth, not yelling...
🍀 It would take one hell of an argument, you'd both be feeling fragile and desperate, both of you shaking with he strength of the heartache and distress you're feeling.
🍀 Whatever you're fighting about it's been brewing for awhile so you both have so many thoughts, so many troubled feelings you need to get off your chest...
🍀 And when he does shout its because he feels a sudden panic, has a sudden fear that he will never be able to explain himself, never be able to make you understand... it's a truly desperate shout, almost a plea... "Would you just listen to me for a second love I'm trying to..."
🍀But he doesn't even finish the sentence, the second he realises he's yelled at you he feels a wee bit sick, his hands shaking and suddenly he can't speak at all. He's watching you, you're frozen, starring back at him with these terrifyingly sad wide eyes...
🍀 he can see he's just broken your heart.
🍀 For a moment theres silence, you're just starring back at him in shock, he's watching you, scared to move or say another word because if he does he's worried something between you will break. That you're both hanging on by a thread.
🍀 And when the thread snaps and you come back to life, your hand rising to cover your mouth and catch your sob, your eyes closing as your whole body shivers with the effort of fighting back tears, Bonnie watches you with this hollow weight in his stomach, this cold lump of guilt.
🍀 Swallows a lump in his throat, his voice quiet and shaky when he speaks again.
🍀 "Fuck, fuck I'm so sorry dove... don't cry, don't cry dove I'm sorry," he's speaking softly, hesitant to try and hug you because he saw the fear in your eyes and he's not sure you want him to come any closer now. "Please forgive me y/n I'm sorry, can I..." he trails off reaching for your hand, tugging you gently into his arms.
🍀Whatever you were fighting about it simultaneously ceases to matter to him and also becomes completely unsolvable...he's scared youre never going to look at him the same way again. He's supposed to be your man, your protector, the one person you can always trust and now he's let you down, he's scared you... he really resents himself for that, can't forgive himself for scaring you.
🍀"I'm sorry little dove," he'd whisper, his voice soothing, his breath brushing your cheek as he promises he won't shout like that again, "s'okay sweetpea, s'alright..." but he doesn't feel like its alright.
🍀 He'll hold you as snug as he can, but carefully too, treating you extra delicately, he's really hesitant to hug you too tightly or kiss you in case you're scared of him now.
🍀 "Don't be scared of my dove, you're breakin me heart," he says it with a teasing little smile, trying to get a giggle from you or something but you can hear the heartbreak in his voice and you know he's really telling the truth.
🍀 When you settle down a little you nuzzle into him, "Sorry Bon..." you sniffle trying to dry your eyes, caught out and speechless when he catches your hands in his and, strokes his thumbs over your palms. "What you sayin sorry for eh sweetpea? Am the one whose sayin sorry now..." he chuckles, holding your palm up to his lips and kissing your hands.
🍀 Even if you feel better quickly, soothed by Bonnie's sweetness, he won't feel better about it. The guilt will stick with him for a long time, one of those memories that comes back in the middle of the night and makes him cringe.
🍀 He's extra soft with you for the rest of the day and the morning after too, treating you like he's scared you're going to break. He speaks quietly and gently and he'll treat you with such tenderness, holding you at every opportunity, holding your hand even if you're just sitting together. Any excuse to kiss you or tell you he loves you.
🍀 Because he knows how upset you get when someone yells at you, if anyone else ever makes you cry by raising their voice at you Bonnie's fierce protective side will snap and he will be raring to defend you. You have had to talk him down from fights because of this.
Isaiah
🐀 He'll be so shocked when you start crying... he's seen you witness so much "worse" than shouting before... so he really wasn't expecting you to burst into tears when a drunk man at the bar raised his voice at you. He turns with a frown, brows tugged in in confusion as he blinks at you struggling to process the sight of you with tears streaking your face. He honestly didn't think anything could phase you...
🐀 For a second he's stunned but he soon snaps into action... "For fuck sake man now look what you've done!" He groans turning to the man behind your tears, "gone and made me girl cry ain't you... now I have to hurt ya..." he says with a cruel grin, as if he hadn't been intending on hurting the stupid cunt who'd been eyeing his girl up with lecherous eyes all evening anyway. "Don't get me wrong like... I wanted to anyway yeah, you've just given me a good excuse..."
🐀 Once he's satisfied he's fucked the stupid bastard up enough, he turns his attention back to you. He's not expecting to see you still crying, in fact he'd kind of been hoping he'd just imagined it, been hoping he was just going crazy like Arthur... but he isn't, and you are still crying.
🐀 And Isaiah isn't good with crying girls, doesn't know what to do about all those tears, feels totally at a loss.. especially because he's never seen you cry before.
🐀 will try to joke about it, not teasing you harshly, just making a little joke about how 'easily' scared it turns out you are... "You had me fooled mousy..."
🐀 This earns him a pretty firm slap from Ado who's jaw has just hit the floor... "Fuck sake dinlow whatre you doing making it bloody worse!" She'd be all arms crossed and shaking her head, muttering about how men these days are all the fucking stupid same.
🐀 but her slaps gotten through to Isaiah at least who is looking at you now with a somewhat more awkward smile, but he takes your hand and offers you a hug. This is the most stunted a conversation with Isaiah could possibly be and you're beginning to feel a whole different kind of anxious.
🐀 "Right for fuck sake, I've had enough of this.." Ada cuts in, "you.. give your girlfriend a fuckin hug alright," she'd say pointing at Isaiah and then pointing at you, "and you.. god sake girl get yourself a better fuckin boyfriend eh?"
🐀 "Alright Ada piss off yeah I've got her, she's alright now ain't you mousy..." Isaiah would groan, he's embarrassed by Ada pointing out his flaws but hes showing it as frustration instead. He will take her advice onboard however, he isn't that stupid.
🐀 He'll put his arm around your shoulder and squeeze you into his side steering you outside for a cigarette and some cool night air. He knows you'll be embarrassed about crying so he wants to take you somewhere quiet.
🐀 "Sorry for laughing at you doll you just took me by surprise... ain't like you is it... crying..." he'll say gently, he's sharing a cigarette with you, taking a drag or two and then placing it between your lips carefully. This is something he only does when he's trying to make you feel extra close and cosy with him.
🐀 He's quite curious about it, wants to understand why you cried, wants to know what it is about raised voices that you just can't deal with. And this curiosity isn't so that he can mock you, it's so that he can help you. He never wants to see you cry like that again so he wants to help you get over your fear...
🐀 He will offer you lots of reassurance, "you know I'm always here for you love, won't ever let anyone hurt you yeah... so even if someone does shout at you you ain't got nothin to be scared of yeah?"
🐀 He'll remind you that now you're with the Peaky Blinders you're always going to have someone near by to protect you. That men like "that cunt inside" will think twice about raising their voice at you...
🐀 Will hold your hand for the rest of the night, giving it reassuring squeezes at seemingly random moments. His affections will be subtle but constant all night and he'll make sure you feel safe.
🐀 If ever he shouts when you're nearby he'll remember himself quickly, apologising to you as soon as he can, making sure you're alright. If other Peaky lads chastise him for this he'll sock them round the back of the head no hesitations.
🐀 He's too easy going and because he doesn't want to shout at you, he avoids arguments like the plague, he'd rather just let most things slide until an issue absolutely has to be addressed because he's worried that if he gets swept into a row with you he won't be able to stop himself from losing his temper. He isn't sure yet whether this tactic is going to serve him well.
Michael
☘️ Its a heated argument, one which really give meaning to the phrase "blazing row." You and Michael are both furious with one another over a disagreement which has been stewing and bubbling away for weeks. One about Tommy Shelby and the unreasonable pressure he puts on his younger cousin.
☘️ When the row started it was because you wanted Michael to stand up to his cousin, you'd tried to encourage him to put his foot down, to start saying no every now and then when Tommy's demands crossed boundaries, but Michael didn't want to. he said you didn't understand the family, that you were sticking your nose into something which doesn't concern you.
☘️ And because you care so much about Michael you can't let go, won't back down. And because he cares about you and doesn't want you winding up in trouble Michael refuses to back down too. And thats how you end up screaming at one another in the middle of breakfast one morning.
☘️ He's so angry he doesn't notice that you aren't just shouting to match his fierce temper. He doesn't notice that you're trembling all over, that your cheeks are flushed and your eyes are wide and white - more like a deer in the headlights than a dragon.
☘️ The argument would peak with you unleashing all your fear and hurt, all your desperation into one shattering scream, "Leave me alone Michael for fuck sake leave me alone!" you shout over your shoulder when you go running off into the garden and he follows. HE doesn't listen however and it takes you picking a rock up and throwing it in his direction for him to get the message and let you go.
☘️ You run away for the rest of the day, go disappearing down the lane storming into the park up the street, finding a bench or a tree to sit beneath, hugging your knees to your chest and sobbing into your skirts.
☘️ Meanwhile at home Michael is pissed off, pacing, getting angry, damaging furniture as his temper gets the better of him. He's fuming, he can't get his head around why you ran away. Why you were so upset. . He thinks you behaved childishly and doesn't understand why you ran off like a little girl...
☘️ It takes you both a long time to calm down and when you do you really don't want to go back to the house, so you go to Polly's instead, you don't tell her about the row but you drink tea with her and wait for Michael to turn up. (Pol assures you he always comes to her when you've been fighting)
☘️ And when he does show up that evening he's been drinking whiskey and his mood is bitter and self pitying.
☘️ "Let me guess Michael my boy, you and y/n had a row... she got upset, she ran away, she..." "Came here," he smirks shaking his head with a small self deprecating smile, "hiya love..."
☘️ He won't apologise for shouting because you were shouting too, and because Michael never apologises for anything. But he will pour the two of you some tea and try to talk to you a little more softly than before.
☘️ "You worried me love, running away from me like that...gave me a scare..." "You were shouting at me," you shrug sullenly. He would be struggling not to let his temper flare again. "You were shouting at me too to be fair love... and anyway, you're not a little girl are you, you don't run away from someone just for shouting..."
☘️ You'd bristle, getting defensive, fresh tears glossing your eyes then, a painful lump in your throat when you realise he doesn't understand and maybe isn't going to.
☘️ "No," you say, voice catching in your throat, "but what kind of man likes screaming at his girl?" When you ask him that he won't be able to ignore the guilt he feels. He'll be struggling to swallow down the lump in his throat too and he'll reach for your hand across the table, brush his thumb over your knuckles as he looks you in the eyes, tries to find an unspoken equilibrium between the two of you. Something to two of you can hold onto despite your differences.
☘️ "Alright," he says finally, let's out a little sigh and squeezes your hand. "No more shouting eh how does that sound?"
☘️ When you nod your head, your smile forming slow but wide, he mirrors your warm expression and leans back in his chair, tugs your hand across the table so that you'll stand and come sit down in his lap.
☘️ "No more shouting it is then y/n," he says holding your waist in his hands, feeling closer to you at last, enjoying the comfort of your familiar shape beneath his hands. He'll point to his cheek then all, "come on love, give us a kiss eh? Forgive me?" and he'll wait until you do lean in to place a kiss on his cheek before he catches yours in his palm and steers your mouth towards his.
AN/ hope these were what you were hoping for lovely, I honestly am not sure I've done your request justice but I don't think I can write much more so sorry about that :/
Taglist:
@jomarch-wannabe @zablife @call-sign-shark @marwwfairy@toddlerbodybag@mollybegger-blog@inalovesrabbits-blog @elina-777@impossibleheartflower@liliac-dreamer@everysage@itsghostgirlyo
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screamingcrows · 16 days
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Chase - Dottore x reader
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Note: Same reader as Tomorrow and Settling in. All of this is just stuff that will never make it into my long fic because those guys don't get to have the happiness these two will get. Keep this out of character ai bots or I'm spreading Pseudomonas aeruginosa in your garden.
Tags: fem reader, reader from Fontaine, she works under him, anger, talk of murder, weapon, angst?
MINORS, AGELESS, BLANK BLOGS DNI
"Doctor? I need to ask you a question," her voice was a far cry from the usual sharpness.
Dottore laid his pen down before taking in her face. It was uncanny how easily her voice could halt his thoughts. Faint traces of salt lingered along her cheeks, but worse still were her eyes. He motioned for her to continue, unwilling to break the delicate silence.
"Why do you pursue knowledge?"
That caused him to pause. She should know, by all means, it was a fact well known throughout the Fatui. But if she needed to hear, there was no harm repeating himself. It was a quiet day after all.
"As you know, there is a discrepancy between what information we, as inhabitants of this world, are allowed to possess and-"
"That wasn't my question," she hadn't snapped at him like that before.
He couldn't help but scrunch his nose in distaste as he briefly considered reprimanding her. The way her flame had wavered during the last month hadn't been lost on him.
Too many nights she would stay long past what was necessary, his segments conveying that they'd found her collapsed atop her desk, freezing cold and difficult to rouse.
"Pose your question better."
"What drives you? What do you want to see at the end of this? I guess," her words faltered when she finally arrived at the right question. "What do you feel when you achieve a goal?"
"A sense of satisfaction from unraveling a mystery, from solving a problem, accompanied of course by a barrage of new objectives to pursue"
His eyes flickered up to her and he found his hand reaching for the mask, diverting the movement to run his fingers through his hair instead. At the first sound of her quiet sniffles he turned his head away, crossing one leg over the other. Something so foreign and so desperately familiar was taking root.
"I feel.. I feel nothing. Like some pitiful ghost that can't move on. And I hate myself for it. Because it means they were right," her voice grew more frantic along with her sobs.
She'd begun pacing back and forth in front of the desk, the force of her steps making his pens rattle in their cup. Dottore felt it in his bones.
"I killed all those people, and it felt so good while they clawed out their eyes. So why is it so empty now? I proved myself, proved that I could, my idea worked a-and they're all dead for doubting me!"
Her frantic laughter rang through the room, making his hands tighten around the armrests. There was nothing he would say to console her, knowing there were only two options from here. It was not something to be driven by another's hand.
"It's not fair!"
The worn desk creaked with the force of her fists bearing down upon it. When he looked upon her again tears adorned her cheeks, and for a moment there was an itch to reach out and brush them away. Run a finger along her bottom lip, swollen from how she'd been chewing on it. Like so much else, it never became more than a simple fantasy.
"Did you expect to bury your troubles along with their bodies?"
"I-.. Well, yes. Obviously."
He had to bite back a chuckle, the hesitation in her voice confirmed his suspicion. She did know better than that. Taking a life out of vengeance was one thing, but living with the consequences was an entirely different issue.
With a small sigh, Dottore reached forward towards where she was leaning over the table, head hanging in defeat. He caught the longing in her eyes when she noticed the approaching hand. It was difficult not to wince when the look was replaced with disappointment when his gloved hand pulled a few things back from the edge.
"You knew it wouldn't make me feel any better," venom laced your words, unsurprising but still unpleasant to hear.
"Yes."
At least her crying had ceased, reduced to nothing but faint sniffles while she rubbed at her eyes. Her voice had risen in pitch, the sound uncomfortably invasive.
"You let me work myself to near-death knowing it was for nothing?"
"We now have a terrifying new weapon in our arsenal, and I'm sure you can improve upon it. I'll get one of the segments working on something to more efficiently deliver it, perhaps we should-"
Dottore tilted his head to the side, narrowly avoiding the pen she'd thrown at him. For a moment, everything stood still as he awaited her next action. There was nothing but the faint sound of his heel repeatedly hitting the ground. Had he misjudged her?
"You absolute bastard, you.. you.."
It was difficult to remain a spectator when the realization became comically clear in her expression. Oh he hadn't misjudged her at all. She knew. What had transpired was entirely by her own choice.
A small curse passed his lips when she threw a mug onto the floor, porcelain shattering alongside her resolve. There was barely time to stop her when she stormed out of the laboratory. Perhaps a segment could check on her later.
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mar-im-o · 2 years
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“The unfortunate side-effect to soul-binding is integration,” Ren explains.
Which, as far as he and everyone else on the server is concerned, makes sense. Soul-binding isn’t new. When they awoke on this plane and looked off into the world, they were well aware of what the thread fading off into the distance meant.
It was an old practice, born with the Old Gods of Ruin, where rituals could be cast to tie beings to one another. It tended to occur towards the end of life as a method of ensuring people may stay together after death. It was sweet. Romantic, some may even say.
But they don’t do it much anymore.
Not because love or faith is dead but because of the side-effects.
-
Impulse and BDubs noticed it first. Perhaps it was because they found each other first, or because they were so eager to be together that they hardly let one another out of sight, but they were changing. Impulse noticed it in the sprouting horns upon BDubs’ head. BDubs noticed it in the way Impulse has become suddenly protective of the clock.
-
“Think of it a bit like equilibrium, right?”
Ren’s lounging on he and Big B’s front yard (no matter the fact that said “front yard” is accompanied by an unfinished base). He’s picking off pieces of a cookie he’s been nibbling on, seemingly unaware of the fact that, as a dog, he should not be able to eat chocolate like he currently is.
But he currently is.
And Big B tries his best not to emote such a recognition through his newly-appeared ears. “Like, balancing?”
“For sure,” Ren says. “Two souls tied together, well they don’t want to be. So you get them trying to even out. Tryna become one soul.”
“That seems...”
Bad? Rough? Horrifying? He isn’t sure.
-
Grian and Scar notice it next.
Maybe it’s because they’ve done this before, even if unknowingly. A man swearing himself to another for the sake of righting a wrong, proclaiming that his life is theirs to share.
Scar’s back has been killing him, not in the usual aching but in the pricking, clawing pains he can’t seem to ease. He can feel his back wet with blood, can feel something tearing from the inside out. He relents and rips off his shirt, asking Grian to take a look and, well...
Feathers. Rainbow feathers growing where two wings would be.
And maybe, Grian realizes as he looks upon his flightless-friend’s down, that explains the green in his eyes and the fact that he’s suddenly become quite fond of the Jellies.
-
“So is there a cure? Can we undo it?”
Ren snorts, a thoughtless shrug matching it. “Maybe? Maybe not? We might just have to ride it out, man. I doubt it lasts outside of this server, but until we beat the game...”
“We become more and more like each other...”
“Pretty much.”
-
Cleo sits by the water that feeds their crops when she’s certain Scott’s still sleeping. A insect dances across it, tracing ripples, and she swats it away so the water might still. When it does, she can see the streak of yellow weaving through her hair. It’s gotten bigger. Harder to hide. She tucks it behind her ear anyway.
Inside, Scott’s reflection has become unfamiliar. Antenna sit amongst his hair now, fluffy and twitching with every new sound or movement. With a grumble, he gives it a flick, and hopes Pearl can feel it.
-
Big B sighs and collapses next to Ren, the sound foreign and loud amongst new ears. “I’m really not tryna turn into a dog, man.”
“Eh, you get used to it. The tail’s fun.”
“I do not want a tail Ren.”
-
Pearl stares at her reflection in the glass, unfamiliar blue eyes blinking back.
Martyn grimaces as an arrow in his back knocks dead skin loose. He’ll add “learning to stitch” to the list of things this server has asked of him.
-
“I’m not really sure the green streak suits me,” Etho says, pulling at the addition to his hair.
Joel snorts, owlish red eyes tilting towards Etho. “Right because you’ve got it the worst between us.”
“It’s not my color--”
-
Tango spins, chasing after the small, golden wings that have appeared on his back. “Can you even fly with these things? They’re so small...”
“Rude!” Jimmy says, but he’s not looking at Tango. He’s squeezing his eyes shut as if he can rub away the red now in them. But when he opens them again, the world is still foreign and changed and-- “How many colors can you see man?”
-
Big B drums his fingers against a chest, head dipped in careful consideration of the world around him. His ears twitch towards the east and wow Ren can hear far...
“We’re not the only ones,” Big B reports. “Seems like everyone’s woken up changed.”
“Figured. This is gonna be an interesting season.”
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suunkiised · 3 months
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Poppy Chapter 3 Thoughts
Just finished watching Manly's play through of Chapter 3 and I have many thoughts as a viewer of the game.
First things first! Very polished, not very buggy and has a lot of nice environments. It's interactive and gives and you a better understanding of everything that happened before the deaths of the employees.
The sound design is a major improvement. Chapters 1 and 2 were mediocre in the sound department, nothing stunning or special. This chapter was way better and provided more and went above and behind!!
Also, lots of new mechanics that make the puzzles interesting and keeps things from being to repetitive. It's engaging and the puzzles are easy to understand, they're a little tedious at times, but they're efficient and you get the hang of them quickly! You also don't get overwhelmed.
Now for spoilers, click read more if you want to spoiled :)
I'll talk about the things I don't like first.
The main factor being the major lack of Catnap. The trailers and everything made it seem like he was a bigger deal then he actually is. I get the fact that he's supposed to hide in the shadows, but he barely has a presence until the last half of the game and it's a disappointment.
Even worse, his boss fight dragged on for too long. It's repetitive and not interesting in the slightest. Mommy's boss fight was long, but you not only got more time with her, you also weren't confined to one area. Catnap's boss fight was boring at most and uninteresting at worst.
His death also didn't seem to have that much of an impact. Sure, we know he worships the Prototype and seeing him offer himself to it was pretty sad, knowing everything that happened. But, again, we don't see much of Catnap in the chapter, which really just doesn't make me feel for him.
Ending this on the things I liked / loved!!
I loved Mrs. Delights section, save for the flickering lights, her design is scary and her movements are horrifying. She's a real danger and you can feel it when we get to her. While her death wasn't anything groundbreaking, it made me wince just because she was stuck under there and not cut in half.
The Play Area was fun! The little critters scuttling around and shooting them with the flare gun was fun to watch. I felt bad for DogDay, he was cut in half and his body was used against his will to hunt the player. It was gross and horrifying to watch. The chase was amxiety inducing and you can feel the urgency as you run away.
Poppy had a more prominent role in this chapter, and I'm glad we saw her! Also, Kissy is nice, I understand why they didn't want these two to follow the player aroun. Would have caused some complications with some areas.
Also, seeing Kissy being passive towards us, not only because Poppy is there is calm her down. But also because she's afraid and constantly on edge, and she wants to get out.
Ollie... Is suspicious. I don't trust him but jury's still out there on what his deal is next chapter.
Story-wise, this chapter really focused in on The Hour of Joy. It was nice to get a visual on the massacre, knowing that no one was spared from the wrath of the mascots.
I like that we got some more information on the workers. Knowing that someone of them probably didn't even know about the experimentation going on and thought they were doing good. But, also knowing that so many people were experimenting on the children...
It's chilling, because you know some people didn't deserve this and yet they're dead now.
Also, confirmation on the player having worked there, but left. This makes me think that the Prototype was the one who sent the letter, wanting every employee to suffer.
As for the ending, I suspect that Kissy got attacked by either Boxy or the Prototype. Meaning that she's either dead, or going to die next chapter.
This also means Poppy is likely to stay by the players side for a good portion of the game, I suspect until we meet Ollie, where she'll stay with him.
Overall I think Chapter 3 is a solid 7/10.
I wish we got more Catnap since he was the main antagonist, but I think the rest was handled well and I'm very impressed by the team. They did a lot of work and I applaud everyone who worked on this chapter!!
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ywpd-translations · 15 days
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Ride 771: A new gear!!
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Pag 1
1: This is the fight's gong!!
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Pag 2
1: Ohuruaaaagh!!
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Pag 3
1: Buooooogh
2: The lead is here, two people!!
3: Sohoku and Hakogaku!!
So the ones who are aiming for the sprint line on the first day of the Inter High…. Those two…
4: are the same two people from last year!!
5: Huh waa
There are still almost 3km until the sprint line, but …
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Pag 4
1: They're accelerating like they're right before the sprint line!!
Ruaaagh
Oooooogh
2: They're so fast!
How many kilometers per hours are they going at!?
A bike can go at that speed!?
3: But those two….
Was it my imagination?
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Pag 5
1: They were smiling!!
2: Hahaha, not bad, San-na!!
You're keeping up with my acceleration!!
Keeping up!? With your acceleration!?
Buah!!
Oi oi, that's-
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Pag 6
1: My line!! Orange!!
Honestly, I'm surprised!!
2: I'm number 4, the ace climber, and I'm a Hakogaku third year
Honestly, during the last year both my power and my acceleration 
3: have increased by several steps!!
4: Is that so!!
5: There are practically no sprinters within the club who can keep up with me!!
6: But you did
You didn't just stick to me from behind, you lined up!!
What does it mean!! It makes the corners of my mouth turn up!!
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Pag 7
1: Hahaha that's because
2: He's shooting ahead!!
3: I'm a genius!!
5: Nice acceleration!!
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Pag 8
1: Orange!!
2: The speed of your attack, your acceleration power and the lack of hesitation when taking the curve!!
Hahaha
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Pag 9
1: It's really like you said, you definitely powered up!!
You got stronger since last year!!
4: Even while taking a curve in an unsteady position, with my shoulder hitting against yours.......
5: What's wrong, San-na, what's this
6: Are you about to say something secret you can't let the spectators hear?
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Pag 10
1: you counter it firmly with the trunk of your body!!
2: Didn't they just make contact with each other while taking the curve!?
Waaaa
Sohoku's number 4 pushed back that huge guy from Hakogaku with his hips!!
3: Buah!!
You're the only one
4: You're the only one who can make me shake like this!!
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Pag 11
2: They hit each other again!! It's a super close combat!!
So what’s the deal with all your banging around since earlier, then?
Ah, that?
3: Is this a request?
You mean you want me to show you
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Pag 12
1: the true essence of my special explosive acceleration!?
Okay then, watch closely!!
4: His movements are so fast!!
5: This my Special Highstone
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Pag 13
1: Hyper acceleration!!
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Pag 14
1: He left me before my own eyes!!
Is this guy for real!?
Dammit!!
2: This is fun!!
3: Are you surprised, San-na? Hahaha
Until last year, I accelerated with the image
4: of a gear going into place
Get in
Get in
Get in
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Pag 15
1: But now I've come to the point that I can freely make it go into place matching my own timing!!
4: The number of gears I've prepared is
5: “Number”!?
6: The first one is “white”
7: The second one is “shironeri*”
8: The third one is “pale yellow”
9: The fourth one is “gamboge*”
The fifth one is “orange”
(*NdT.: all the names are colors, these ones are Japanese traditional colors)
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Pag 16
1: All together there are six levels!!
This year I divided my acceleration in six stages!!
2: Six stages!!
Seriously!?
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Pag 17
1: And by the way, my acceleration from earlier was “unbleached silk” the second stage
2: Did it feel fast!?
3: Naturally, once we get before the sprint line I'll use
4: the sixth one, “golden yellow”!!
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Pag 18
3: Dammit
4: So there's also things like this in the Inter High
Seriously?
5: Now I understand the reason for our hard practice and for the harshness of training camp
Without that I wouldn't have been able to fight on this stage
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Pag 19
1: Issa and Doubashi..... just when I thought the sprint fight was narrowed down to those two.....
2: Another person comes chasing!!
3: Did he break away from the pack behind and got here!? He wasn't there with us earlier!!
In such a short time he shook everyone off and chased us!?
4: Even though I've been pedaling at full throttle since earlier, he keeps getting closer!!
5: So there's also things like this!? At the Inter High!!
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Pag 20
1: It's filled with monsters!!
Hayaaaa
2: But that's fine by me
I thought my part was over....
But there's still work left to do!! I won't let this guy get to the lead!!
48 notes · View notes
dancingtotuyo · 8 months
Text
Scathed (Javier Peña) Chapter 5
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Rating: Mature
Warnings: Anxiety. References to panic attacks. Bad dreams. Talk about real life drug lords (Narcos TV interpretations). References/Ilusions to Trauma, PTSD, grooming, & abuse. some angst? no comfort?
Words: 2,446
Series Master List | Author Master List
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He raced through the comuna adrenaline pumping in his veins. He chased and chased the figure, never catching him, never gaining any ground. His heart pounded in his chest. Sweat dripped down his head. The shirt he wore clung to his skin. He rounded a corner, but there was no perp. He wasn’t in the winding maze of the comuna anymore. He was back in Texas in a spacious backyard. He could hear her panicked gasps for breath, a crumpled ball on the ground, Anna running past him, his feet frozen to the ground. He struggled to catch his breath. It seemed to play on a loop: Emily was always there on the ground, Anna always rushing toward her, his feet unmoving.
His breathing sped up. Panic started to overtake him. He couldn’t move, he couldn’t look away as Emily choked for air. It took him longer to realize he did the same. Darkness edged at his peripheral creeping inward. He couldn’t catch his damn breath. He felt lightheaded. The last thing he saw before the darkness took over was Emily on the ground.
Javier sat up. His chest heaved. Crickets chirped outside his bedroom window. Bedsheets twisted around his waist. His skin was sticky with sweat. The sheets felt damp beneath him.
He froze. Javier Peña didn’t freeze, and someone suffered for it. How many more had to suffer because of the drug war? Even removed from it, the scars still shone red and angry.
He still couldn’t face Emily. It had been months since Escobar was killed. She brought Alejandra for riding lessons every week. He always found a reason to be gone. He’d passed them in the driveway a handful of times. He couldn’t even look her way.
-
Journal Entry
April 8, 1994
5 years feels like a lifetime and just yesterday.
Dad thinks we should celebrate. I just want the day to pass without thinking about it. The kids are grumpy, even Mateo. It’s like they just know somehow.
We’re going out to the Ranch tonight for Alejandra’s riding lesson. I usually leave the boys at home, but I’m going to bring them this time. I think it will be good for all of us.
Dust drifted around the car as they filed out. Alejandra darted straight to the riding rink. The boys pooled around her. Emily expected to find Chucho in the rink, but instead landed a figure in jeans a size too small.
“Mr. Javi!” Alejandra smiled brightly.
Javier turned from saddling Hurricane. He smiled, but his movements were stiff. “Alejandrina!”
Ale asked if they would see him before every lesson. Emily usually changed the subject. The closest she’d come to laying eyes on him since December was when they passed each other in the driveway.
Emily tried to put it out of her head. It shouldn’t bother her. They weren’t friends, but it had felt like maybe they could’ve been. He knew more about her than most people. Apparently, he drew the line at panic attacks. That was good to know.
“Are you doing my lesson this week?”
“I am.” He pushed his sunglasses up on his nose. “Pops is out of commission for the next few weeks.”
“Good lord, Javier.” They heard Chucho before they saw him. He hobbled out of the barn on crutches. “I’ve hurt my foot, I’m not completely useless.”
“What happened?” Ale asked.
“I stepped in a hole.” The older man rolled his eyes. “Doc says I fractured my foot. Lucky for you, Javier is quite the horseman.”
Javier forced another smile. The light lens of his sunglasses allowed Emily to see his eyes. He looked around her and past her. Emily pretended not to notice and crossed her arms. It shouldn’t bother her. They weren’t friends. She shouldn’t be hurt by his reaction.
“Chucho, can I practice with the lasso?” Miguelito said. Mateo bounced on his feet next to his older brother.
“Of course, you know where to find everything.”
“Thank you.” He took off, Mateo hot on his heels.
“No hog-tying your brother!” Emily called after them. “Or tying of any kind!” She wasn’t sure they even heard her.
Chucho laughed. “He's getting quick with it.”
“Too quick.” Emily narrowed her eyes at the older man. “Maybe I’ll send him out here. He can put those skills to good use instead of chasing his brother around the yard.”
“Perfect, he can help Javier out while my foot gets better.”
“Miguelito, give it back!” Alejandra said.
Emily’s head snapped toward the barn. Inside, her eldest held the riding helmet above his head, just out of his sister’s reach.
“Miguel.” Firm and simple, her command was clear.
He jumped. Emily hated the look that flashed in his eyes. Their power struggles had mostly dissipated, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t return. She had a feeling he knew what that name felt like on her tongue. She prayed she was wrong.
He handed the helmet to Alejandra, not meeting his mother’s eyes.
“I found it!” Mateo lifted the lasso above his head and Miguelito dashed after him brushing past her and narrowly avoiding Javier.
Emily cursed internally. She fought the urge to run after him. She couldn’t approach him around others and pull him away from the group. That never worked. He would shut down. He needed the stillness of a quiet house just the two of them.
“Sorry-”
“Don’t apologize. They’re kids.” Javier said. She still noted the way he looked past her.
Emily pulled Alejandra in front of her. “We’re all in rare form today,” she sighed, quickly sectioning Ale’s hair into two, then braiding the first one.
Chucho hobbled in, a sympathetic smile on his face.“Don’t worry about it, dear. We know.”
Emily forced a smile as Alejandra fidgeted. “Hold still, Mija. I don’t want to pull your hair.”
Javier looked at his father for answers. What exactly was he supposed to know?
Chucho pointed to the calendar on the stable wall. Javier looked at it still not making heads or tails of his father’s cryptic message. Chucho hadn’t written anything on the calendar. Did it have something to do with the date? Most of the time, Javier wasn’t sure what day of the week it was.
He’d gone into the supply store on Wednesday. That was two days ago. His eyes scanned the calendar. April 8th. A small pang settled in his chest. Everyone in the damn DEA knew April 8th.
“Okay, all braided up,” Emily said.
Javier’s head snapped her way. He finally looked at her. Sunglasses sat on top of her head revealing dark circles under her eyes. She looked comfortable enough in her environment, but her shoulders sagged. Tension creased her forehead. Her eyes flickered out toward the yard where the boys played. She twirled Alejandra’s braid.
She knew April 8th too. Of course, she did. She probably knew it better than anyone. Had she been there when they captured Felix? What had it felt like? She looked up, catching him dead in the eye. Javier swallowed, feeling like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Emily’s head titled to the side.
“Are you ready, Mr Javi?”
He looked down at the girl. “Sure am, Alejandrina.” He clapped, forcing a smile onto his face. Suddenly aware of the delicate space he’d been brought into. How did he keep getting pulled into this? He proved himself unworthy last time. He couldn’t be trusted.
“Helmet, Mija.” Emily remembered before Ale could dash out of the barn.
Alejandra grabbed it rushing out. Javier followed close behind.
Emily sat on the mounting block as Alejandra rode around the rink watching as Alejandra diligently followed all of Javier’s instructions. She was becoming quite the equestrian. Emily didn’t have the words to describe it, but there was nothing like watching your child grow into their own in a hobby that brought them life.
Her eyes flickered over to the boys nicely taking turns with the lasso. Chucho had shown them to the shed where they’d rolled out barrels and stands to practice their aim. An argument had yet to break out between them. She was convinced Miguelito was only sharing so nicely to one up his younger brother.
“I pulled a few extra steaks out for dinner.” Chucho settled next to her, observing the lesson.
“You didn’t have to-“
He waved his hand in the air as if he was shooing her off. Emily bit back a smile. “You’re staying for dinner, Mija.”
Emily knew there was no room for argument with Chucho. It was oddly relieving. He made the decision so she didn’t have to. “Okay.”
-
Chucho wouldn’t let Emily help him in the kitchen. Try as she might, he simply shooed her out everytime, even kicking her away with his crutch once. She felt useless as the kids played a card game contently at the table. She didn’t know how that happened. They’d been at each other’s throats all day.
“Chucho, please let me help you.” She sighed. Her hands itched to do something. It was the anxiety.
“Why don’t you take Javier a drink? That boy was wound tighter than a stripped screw when he went out.” He looked back at her. “You could use one too.”
Emily huffed glancing out the sliding glass doors. Javier stood over the grill, waiting for the charcoal to get to temperature. He was hardly a boy. This would be a great chance to talk to him, figure out what’s going on. She looked back at the kids,
“I’ll call you if they get into trouble,” Chucho said.
It was enough for her. She grabbed two beers from the fridge and headed outside.
The patio felt different under the golden sun. Not in a bad way, but just different. Javier didn’t look up from the grill. He caught sight of her from his peripheral.
“Here.” Emily held out the bottle.
Javier accepted, eyes still trained away from hers. He popped the top off with relative ease, letting it wash down his throat.
Emily shifted her weight around, waiting for him to say something. It didn’t come.
Popping the lid from her bottle, she sipped the beverage. Beer wasn’t her top choice, but it isn’t awful. The grill sizzled as Javier moved the steaks from the plate to the hot metal.
“You’ve been avoiding me.”
His attention wasn’t pulled from the task at hand. “No, I haven’t.”
“Bull shit and you know it.” She could feel the hurt beginning to set in. She didn’t like being hurt. There was no reason to let her feelings get involved.
“You have a standing appointment every Friday.”
“Who says I don't?”
“Then why won’t you look at me?”
Javier’s heart sank. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he heard it in her voice. He had.
She stared out at the field, sun setting in pink and gold. Emily’s heart raced with the unspoken words just sitting on the tip of her tongue. She didn’t do things like this. This was scary. This was asking to be hurt, but she let the words slip anyway.
“I felt safe with you, Javier.” She locked eyes with him. “That doesn’t happen often- especially not with men and I-“ Emily bit her lip. “I don’t want to lose that.”
Javier watched the steaks sizzle. How could she feel safe with him when he didn’t feel safe with himself? He couldn’t be trusted. He proved that when he worked with Los Pepes, when he failed to protect so many from the drug war.
“You shouldn’t.” He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing. “I’m not a good person- I’m not safe. You know that.”
“You keep saying that-“
“Because it’s true.” He took a long swig from his beer, flipping the steaks.
Condensation cascaded down the side of your Amber bottle until it hung from the bottom, slowly increasing in size until it finally fell to the patio beneath your feet.
“I’m sorry.”
Emily cocked her head to the side. “For what exactly?”
“For-” Javier stuttered. A lump formed in his throat. “For the panic attack.” He couldn’t bring himself to look at her, watching the steaks as if they might burn at any second.
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
He shifted from foot to foot, hand on his hip the other scratching his neck. He looked unsure of himself.
“Javier, you didn’t cause my panic attack.”
His head snapped up as if that thought never occurred to him. She read disbelief through his orange-tinted glasses. She’d said it so matter of factly and without hesitation. “What?”
“I have trauma. Sometimes I can fight the memories and latch onto the real world. Sometimes, they take over despite all rationalization. Escobar’s death, it just made everything a little more raw.”
“I asked you what you were thinking about, I started the spiral. It-”
“And I obliged. You didn’t force me to do anything.” Emily sighed, threading her fingers through her long curls. A dry chuckle left her throat. Confidence surged through her, a rare occurrence. Suddenly, the 5th anniversary of Felix’s arrest strengthened her. Five years was a long time and she was still here.
“God, I wish people would stop acting like their actions control me! You don’t. Just because I can’t always control myself doesn’t make you responsible for me! Or anyone else for that matter!”
Javier felt a slight smile overtake his face. The guilt relieved but didn’t go away completely. She seemed more self-assured than he’d ever seen her, not that he had a lot of history there.
“I’m not some inept, helpless foal.”
“You’re right.”
Emily looked back at him almost stunned by his response. Her eyes were wild like he’d grown to know, but there was no fear right now. This was different. This was bold and unbridled like a horse once caged, branded into submission, but now free. Musteña.
He wasn’t going to use the nickname. That felt too intimate. He didn’t want to spook her.
Were they even friends? He thought he may want that. His friend, Emily. It sounded good in his head, had a nice ring to it
“I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you.” He adjusted his sunglasses with his pointer finger. “Maybe we could try this friend thing.”
“Friends, huh?” Emily crossed her arms.
Javier chuckled. “Can’t promise I’ll be a good one. Don’t have a lot of practice.”
“And you think I do?” Emily cracked a smile. “I’ve got one friend, and it’s my boss.”
“That’s one more than me.”
A laugh slipped from her lips pulling a smile across his face. Yeah, he could get used to this.
33 notes · View notes
final-girl96 · 9 months
Text
My Boyfriend's Back Chapter Thirty-Nine
YN
"So…how was your date?" Randy sat on one side of the couch and I on the other. Reese was sitting on his lap, clinging to him. "It was good…I think…I don't know." I raised an eyebrow at him in question. "Okay…well, what was her name?" I asked. He murmured something that I couldn't hear. "What?" I asked. "Karen! Okay? It was Karen."
"Karen?" I asked. He nodded his head and rolled his eyes. "Yes, Karen as in Karen Kolchec," he said. My eyebrows shot up to my hairline. "Creepy Karen! Like, Karen who took your virginity in the porno section of the video store, where you are now the manager?!" He sighed and looked down at Reese. "Your mom is so dramatic." His fingers danced on her stomach making her laugh.
"She's not creepy! She's actually really nice," he said. I nodded my head, "sure, yeah, of course. That's why you were scared of her in high school…well, until she agreed to have sex with you…in the porno section, of course." He rolled his at me and let a wiggly Reese down so she could play with her toys. I stood up and walked to the kitchen with Randy close behind me.
"I was never afraid of her!" He argued and I laughed. "Right. Whatever you say, Ray." I handed him one of the beers from the pack he brought with him when he came over. "Can I ask you a serious question?" I turned around from the fridge after putting the pizza away and looked at him. "Um…yeah, of course," I said. I started wiping down the counters while he took time to form what he wanted to ask me. "I've been wanting to ask you this for a while now. Just don't get mad or upset, okay?"
I nodded my head, "I won't. I promise," I told him. I turned around to the sink, washing the few dishes that were in it from dinner. "Reese…she's umm…she's his isn't she?" I paused my movements and closed my eyes. It's been a couple days since Stu was here. I knew one day it was a possibility that someone would ask me this question. "Yn? Look, I'm not going to get mad or lecture you. I mean…it's kind of obvious, ya know? She looks like him."
I finished rinsing the last dish and set it down in the rack. I didn't turn around though. I couldn't. "Yes. He was at Windsor. I'd like to say it was only once but it wasn't. He kind of just showed up out of nowhere one night. I was in the studio alone in the middle of the night. That night there was that bad storm." Flashbacks played in my head of me running through the halls with Stu close behind. The thunder rumbling above and the lightning flashing so bright that it would light the hallways up.
"I always felt like someone was watching me…even before we left home. That night he showed up, chased me through the halls. Things happened. And they kept happening after that. After you…when I left the hospital after I knew you were in good hands, I went back to my dorm. He was there in my room, sitting on the couch. But it wasn't him who started it that time…it was me. He was behind everything at Windsor. Well…Hallie is the one that stabbed you. She thought getting rid of you would have made him happy."
"Has he been here? Does he know about her?" I didn't say anything. What was I going to say? 'Yeah, he was here and knows about her. Oh and also, I fucked him.' "Yn? Does he know about Reese?" I took a deep breath and turned around. The biggest lie ever left my fucking lips before I could stop the words. "No. I haven't seen him since that last night at Windsor when he killed what's-his-face. If he knows where I live, he hasn't shown up. Not yet…"
"Are you lying to me?" He asked. I gave him a look that said 'are you serious?' "Look, I'm just trying to look out for you two. He's a fucking psychopath, yn. You can't let him near her." Too late. "I know that, Randy. I think about it every fucking day! When is he going to show up? What will he do when he does? Fuck, I mean come on, we all know that ghostface will be back. Especially with a third movie being mad. We might have gone two years without people dying that are close to us…but that luck is going to end. And it's going to end soon."
"You don't know that. Maybe Stu won't come find you this time. I wish you would have told me he was at Windsor though. Or maybe told Dewey," he said. "And what? Risk your guys lives like that? No way. I still feel guilty for what happened to you, Ray. I mean, you almost died! You were in a coma for days!" He sighed and shook his head. "That was not your fault," he said. "Well, it feels like it is. Come on, Ray, I'm a fucking mess! I'm still…I'm still in love with him," I whispered the last part.
Before he could respond the phone rang and I walked over to answer it. "Hello?" I looked over at Randy to see him looking at me with concern. "Hey, Sid." His face relaxed a little but not much. "What?" I asked her. "Turn on the news!" She told me. I nodded my head even though she couldn't see me. "Hey, turn on the news, please." Randy walked over to the TV and turned it on before flicking through the channels and finding the news.
"Hollywood is reeling today from news of the murder of Controversial talk show host, Cotton Weary. Weary had only recently finished shooting a cameo as himself in the film "Stab 3: Return to Woodsboro", the third and final part in the famous horror series based on the Woodsboro and Windsor College Murders. Before his rise to television fame, Cotton had been imprisoned and was later exonerated for the murder of Maureen Prescott, his former Lover."
Randy muted the tv and turned around to look at me. It was completely silent. I didn't say anything; I didn't know what to say. Sidney was quiet on the other end of the line, too. It went on like that for what felt like forever. I knew who was behind this, and even if he wasn't the one to actually kill Cotton, he definitely had something to do with it. "He's back," I whispered.
31 notes · View notes
scarletsaphire · 7 months
Text
It did not have a name. It was never loved enough to be given one. At least, not until a nice couple named it while it died in their arms.
---
For Ectoberhaunt Day 2 Magic: Black Cat. Trigger warnings for animal death, motorcycle accident, and graphic injuries. This is the Lore for Johnny, Kitty, and Shadow in my heart.
It did not have a name. In order to get a name, someone needed to give you a name. No one had ever cared enough to give it a name, so it didn't have one. It had been called many things of course; Stray, mangy beast, bad luck, disgusting. But those didn't feel like names to it. Maybe they were, and it just didn't understand what names were. It decided that it didn't matter. It didn't have a name in any way that mattered.
It didn't have a home. It didn't even have a place to stay. Wherever it was warm, it was chased away with brooms and hoses and rakes. Wherever it was soft, the chill of the ground forced it to keep moving, permeating through its tangled black fur. It was tired. It was hungry. It was cold. It had to keep moving.
The cold, squishy ground became firm and hard underneath its paws. It was warm. That was nice. It hadn't felt warm in so long. There was meat a few paces away. It wasn't good meat; it had been dead for a day, at least, and it was squished weird, and smelled of gasoline. But it was food. That was the important thing.
It made its way to the dead animal. It used to be a possum. Its teeth tore through the soft, rotting flesh of its outside. It tasted bad. It smelled bad. It was warm, not from life, but from the sun beating down on it. It was disgusting. But it was food. It hadn't eaten in so long. It couldn't let the food just rot.
The ground rumbled beneath it. Something loud, and fast, and much, much larger than it was coming. It should run. But it was so tired, and so hungry, and so cold. It couldn't let this meal, however terrible, go without a fight. 
"Oh shit! Babe, turn!" It was a woman's voice, shouted above the roaring of a motorcycle engine. It was closer than it should've been. It had been moving faster than anything it had ever seen. The motorcycle was heading right for it. It tried to swerve, tried to stop. It failed.
It hurt. A lot. Everything hurt. it couldn't move, couldn't turn its head, could barely hear. It was too hot. The ground was too hard. It was dying. It knew it like it knew that its life had been meaningless, suffering to survive in a world where it was meant to die. 
The ground fell away as it was lifted into shaking hands. It was warm. It was soft, not like the ground.
"Oh, poor thing..." This one was a man. His voice was shaky, weak, and gravely. "I'm so sorry."
"You should've turned faster," the woman from before said, her voice just as rough, though her tone was more firm.
"I tried, Kitty," he said. 
"I know. Does it have a collar?"
It felt the movement of the man's shaking head. "It's pretty mangled too. I think its a stray."
"Poor guy didn't even have a name," she said, and it felt her hand on its head, just behind its ear. The contact stung. It didn't want her to stop. 
"We'll call you Shadow," the man said. "It's not much, but that's all we can do for you now." Shadow. It liked the name Shadow. It was fitting. Shadow liked these people. They were nice. Warm.
"We're sorry," she said. "We tried to stop."
The world was fuzzy. Black. It felt like everything was underwater. It hurt, but its hurt was...distant. Unimportant. It was dying. That was ok. It had gotten a name. That's all it ever wanted. Shadow let its eyes drift close for the last time.
Shadow started as if woken, the sound of an explosion rousing them from a sleep they should never have woken up from. What happened? Its eyes traced over their surroundings, trying to piece everything together through the crackling flames. Where were the kind people that had held it? That had named it? What happened to them?
There. They were covered in soot, and their clothes were smoldering, and they were lying on the asphalt, unconscious. That wasn't good. There was a fire. They needed to get away, or they would die. Shadow didn't want them to die. They were nice. Nice people shouldn't die.
It ran over to them on its 4 legs, moving faster than it had ever moved during life. It batted at the man's face with its paw, trying to wake him up. He did not react, not even the fluttering of the eyelids. Shadow tried to woman. Tried scratching at her face, pulling at her hair, biting her. She did not move.
No, no, no, this wasn't ok. Shadow needed to help them. Needed to get them to safety, needed to help them because they helped it. But it couldn't do anything. It was too small, too weak, to drag them away. Its paws couldn't grip anything, could only bat at their skin, only able to hurt them more. It couldn't move fast enough, even with its new found energy and speed. It needed to be different. But it wasn't. Shadow was a cat. 
Or was it? It grabbed at the man's shoulders with clawed hands, careful to not pierce the skin. It lifted him up into its arms, like he had done before, and now he was smaller, and hurt, and dying. It flew over the asphalt, its back paws disappearing into a tail very different than the one it had before. It carried him to the side of the road, where the ground was cold and soft and squishy.
Shadow got the woman next, laying her down next to the man. They weren't waking up. They weren't moving. They weren't breathing. Shadow hadn't been fast enough. Hadn't done enough. It tried to meow, tried to cry in the only way it knew how, but it couldn't. It wasn't a cat any more. It didn't have a throat to meow with. It couldn't quite cry in the way that humans could either, but it was close enough. Shadow floated above the bodies and cried.
"Hey, what are you crying about?" It was the man's voice, not from below Shadow, where the bodies lay, but from the street. 
Shadow turned. He looked different now. Not as different as Shadow did, but different. The woman was besides him, her arm threaded through his. She looked different too. They walked towards him, but stopped when they saw what was beneath him.
"Damn," he said. "I guess your old man was right. The bike was the death of us, huh?"
She laughed. "Yeah, I guess he was. I don't regret it." She turned towards Shadow. "How'd we get over here? Did you see?"
Shadow could not speak to answer, but they seemed to understand anyway. "That's some kind of karma I think," he said. "Kinda shit that Ms. Polinshki would talk about."
"Oh, please don't bring her up," she said. "If we're dead the least we can do is leave English class behind."
"We were going to do that anyway, remember?" he said. "Dropouts and all that."
"Whatever," she said. "Now what?"
"That's a great question. Good ol reliable?"
She nodded. "How bout..." she spun around in a circle, before pointing in a random direction. "...that way?" 
"Sounds good Kitty," he said. They started walking away. 
Shadow settled down. The two weren't ok. They were dead. But so was Shadow, and Shadow felt ok, so maybe they felt ok too. That was good. That was all it wanted. It could exist happily knowing that they were ok, even if it neve saw them again. Even if it went back to what it had been during life; bad luck, mangy beast, stray. It would be ok with that.
"Hey, Shadow!" the man called out. The two had stopped only a few steps away, both turned back to look at it. "Are you coming?" 
It moved hesitantly at first, slowly approaching the pair. "Good boy," the woman said. They started walking again, this time with Shadow falling in step behind them, as if it was where he'd belonged all along.
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tabbytabbytabby · 1 year
Note
Steddie #12 please???
Here you are, anon! Thanks for the prompt! 💜
Also on AO3
--
It's going on midnight when Eddie hears a car pull into his driveway. He's immediately alert as he ducks down in the hall, trying to stay out of view. Wayne's at work– will be until morning. There's no one else that he's expecting. 
His mind immediately thinks the worst as he hears footsteps coming up the rickety steps outside, seconds before a knock sounds on the door. 
He holds his breath, hoping that whoever it is will just go away. The last thing he needs is to be harassed and threatened in his own damn trailer.
The knock sounds again, along with a voice calling his name. "Eddie? Eddie, it's Steve. Are you in there?"
Steve. What the hell is Steve doing here? Was something wrong? Has something happened to the kids? 
"Eddie, come on," Steve says. "Your van’s outside. I know you're in there. I just…" There's a thump against the door, and Eddie can almost imagine Steve resting his head against it. "No one's seen you in three days, man. We're worried."
Worried. 
Steve's not here because something happened to the kids or Robin or Nancy but because of him. It's not something he's used to. The only person that's ever given a damn about him is Wayne. It's hard to believe that someone like Steve Harrington, of all people, does.
"I just want to know you're okay," Steve says. "I know– I know this shit isn't easy to deal with, and I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but you don't have to deal with it alone, Eddie. We're all here for you."
Eddie feels his throat close up, and he closes his eyes against the sting of tears. It's become an all too familiar feeling lately. One of the reasons he hasn't wanted to be around anyone. He hasn't exactly been handling things well. The last thing he wanted was for the kids to see him like this– especially Henderson.
But maybe…
Eddie's eyes snap open when the footsteps start moving away. Away. Away. Away. Eddie thought he would feel relieved, but instead, he finds himself disappointed. A part of him wants to call out– get to his feet and chase after him. But he feels rooted to the spot.
All he can manage to do is tuck his knees to his chest and rest his head against the cool denim as the first wave of sobs racks through his body. 
Stupid. He's so stupid. He should have just opened the door. Now he really is alone, and it's his own damn fault. 
"Eddie?"
Eddie's head snaps up at the sound of Steve's voice. He's standing at the other end of the hall, watching him carefully. So he hadn't left after all. But Eddie's sure the door had been locked. 
"I found the spare key," Steve says as if reading his mind. "Or, well, Max told me where you keep it."
Max. Of course. 
Steve creeps closer cautiously– as if afraid that any sudden movement might send Eddie running. Maybe it would have, but right now, Eddie's too exhausted to think of standing, let alone running. All he can do is watch as Steve kneels in front of him. His face is pinched in concern. 
"I won't ask if you're okay," Steve says. "I think we both know you're not."
Eddie sighs and leans his head back against the wall. "No shit."
"Is that why you've been avoiding everyone?" Steve questions.
"I'm not avoiding anyone."
"Eddie."
Eddie sighs. "Okay. Fine. Maybe I am. I just…"
"What?"
"I didn't want anyone to see me like this," Eddie admits. "I guess I'm not exactly handling things that well."
Steve moves until he's sitting next to Eddie, his back against the wall mirroring Eddie's position. "No one expects you to, you know? You were thrust into this whole mess and didn't exactly have a lot of time to process. It would be hard on anyone."
"But not you," Eddie says.
"Seriously? You think I handled it well when I first found out?" Steve asks. "I ran, man. I got to my car and was about to drive away, leaving Nancy and Jonathan alone to face one of those monsters."
"But you didn't," Eddie says.
"No, I didn't," Steve says. "I went back in to help them. Because I didn't want to be that guy. So I decided that night to be better. But that doesn't mean all this shit still doesn't get to me."
"You wouldn't tell by looking at you," Eddie says.
"I do it for them," Steve says. Eddie doesn't have to ask who the them he's referring to is. They both know. "They're probably traumatized enough. I don't want to add to that if I can help it. So, I get it, man. I get trying to be strong for them."
"But?" Eddie questions. He can sense one lingering there.
"But you don't have to be strong for me," Steve says. 
Eddie's shoulders slump, and he lets out a ragged breath. He hasn't told any of this to Wayne, not wanting to worry the man more than he already has been. But maybe he doesn't have to keep it entirely to himself, either. If there's anyone that might understand what he's feeling and listen without judgment, it's Steve. 
 "I– I just keep seeing them. The bats. I see Dustin's face and hear his screams as I'm fucking dying in front of him, and there's nothing I can do to make it better. That's the worst part, you know? I really thought I was gonna die down there, and sure, that scared me. I didn't want to die. But I didn't want to be just another thing that traumatized that kid, but I failed at that."
"You didn't," Steve says softly. "Eddie, you made it out."
"Only because of you," Eddie says, glancing his way. "If you hadn't shown up when you did…."
"But I did," Steve says firmly. "I did. And you're alive. You're safe now."
Safe. That's something Eddie hasn't felt in a while. Even with Vecna gone and his name cleared, he still hasn't felt safe. Not with the nightmares plaguing him or the looks he gets on the streets from anyone he passes. Another reason he's been staying inside. 
"I don't feel safe, Steve," Eddie admits. "I'm afraid I won't ever again."
"You will," Steve assures him. "It might take time, but you will."
"How do you know?" 
"Because you have a group of kids that are stubborn as hell and have your back," Steve says. "You have Wayne, who could probably send someone to their grave just by glaring at them." 
Eddie smiles at that. He knows the look all too well. "True."
"You have so many people that have your back, Eddie," Steve says. "I know it might seem like everyone is out to get you right now, but you have more people on your side than you realize."
"Including you?"
Steve smiles and knocks his shoulder with Eddie's. "Yeah, man. Especially me."
"No one's ever done this for me before…." Eddie tells him.
"Done what?" Steve asks him. 
"Stuck around," Eddie says softly.
Steve's hand moves to his shoulder, and he squeezes. "I'm not going anywhere, Eddie."
"Promise?"
It's ridiculous, he knows. No one can make that promise. But all Steve does is smile– that soft, heartbreaking smile that has Eddie's traitorous heart flipping. "Promise."
Eddie lets himself believe.
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shivunin · 8 months
Note
kissing them to shut them up for wen 💖
ahh this one ended up sweeter than I'd initially intended c: thank you for the prompt!
(Kiss prompts)
Whatever May Come
(Arianwen Tabris/Zevran Arainai | 877 Words | No warnings)
“Well,” Zevran said, nudging Wen’s elbow with his own, “you are a fine lady now, it would seem.”
Arianwen grimaced and took a sip of her wine—which was, to her annoyance, better-tasting than the acidic stuff she’d once bought from the alienage shop. She should’ve known that being given charge of an arling would bring jokes from him, but she’d been too preoccupied by…everything else to prepare herself properly.
The grand hall in the palace was full of noise and people. They danced in the center, gowns in eye-popping colors swirling together into a massive mosaic, talked in huddles about the room, waited in line for an audience with their new king…Arianwen was glad to sit above it all with Zevran. They’d found a deep window opening on the upper level and perched there now, obscured from the room at large. 
“Very soon,” he went on, gesturing grandly with his lovely, scarred hand, “you will be demanding that the guards cut off someone’s head instead of doing it yourself.”
Wen grimaced and polished off the last of her cup, setting it aside on the window ledge.  
“You will likely have stables full of fancy horses before the year is out—and special stables for all of your other creatures.” 
She tried to imagine herself swanning about a set of stables full of horses she’d no idea how to ride and could not do it. For most of her life, she’d despised the nobility; she did not like the idea of becoming one of them, with their frivolous feuds and absurd customs. Could such a transformation even be possible, after everything else? She didn’t like to think it would happen to her, but what if…
“Perhaps you we become so preoccupied with baubles and jewels that I will be obliged to go and steal some for you instead of—”
Wen interrupted him by leaning forward and kissing him, leaving the end of the sentence unsaid. Zevran laughed against her lips, but leaned closer and curled his hand along her jaw. When she pulled away, it was only to rest her forehead against his. 
“I am not,” she told him, her voice a low whisper, “going to ask you to steal for me. If I want someone’s jewels, I will take them myself. You can stay behind and cover my tracks.”
“And let you have all the fun without me?” Zevran asked, eyes twinkling in the well-lit hall. “You are a cruel mistress indeed, mi vida.”
“I cannot win,” she grimaced. “Very well, then. What other ridiculous things will I do once I am arlessa?”
“Well,” he told her, and kissed her cheek, “you will have a scandalous affair with an assassin from Antiva.”
“Oh?”
“Yes. And you will have every knife you could possibly want. They will all but bristle from your bed.”
“That doesn’t sound awful.”
“Mm,” Zevran agreed, and kissed her other cheek. “And speaking of your bed…”
“Yes?” she said, eyes drifting slightly closed. 
Something about the way he spoke to her made the rest of the room fade away, made the glittering celebrations feel dim in comparison. 
“You will have a bed,” he said, and kissed her nose. “Not a bedroll or a cot, but a bed where you can sleep soundly.”
His voice had softened somewhat—the way he only ever spoke to her. Arianwen heard it and held very still, not wanting to chase it away with hasty words or movement. She disliked conversation, was profoundly annoyed by too much sound, but sometimes she felt she would do almost anything to make Zevran keep talking to her like that.
“But all of that can wait, yes? I believe we have more immediate plans.”
“We do,” she agreed, her voice just as soft. 
Zevran kissed her, gentle and slow, and she could feel the relief in it, the gratitude. His hand curled around the side of her face as tenderly as if she were made of glass, and for once it did not scare her. When he angled his head to the side, his lips slid over her cheekbone lightly and she shivered. 
“You will come with me to Antiva,” he murmured against her ear, “and I will show you everything that is best about it. We will run across the rooftops under the moon and dance in the streets, and we will leave all this behind for a time.” 
He kissed her cheek, the pressure so soft she might not have felt it if she wasn’t focused so entirely on his touch. 
“And I will have you all to myself.” 
“Yes,” she sighed, and leaned her cheek against his. “Go on.” 
His chuckle was quiet. One of his hands found hers, fingers twining together in her lap, and his voice went on, tender and full of a quiet hope. 
Wen focused on him and him alone, shutting out the rest of the world. For a time, there was only the window ledge and the two of them. No heroes, no Crows, no titles or Blight to worry over. For a time, they were only Arianwen and Zevran, and the hands that they had used for so many long days of violence rested joined and quiescent in their laps. 
And Arianwen closed her eyes and listened.
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StayTeez Trope’Pril - Trope Prompt 3: Strangers to lovers
Post Date: 8th April 2023 Content: Fluff - Strangers to lovers : Felix x Reader Word Count: 1.3K TW?: NonIdol!AU/ Boy next door Felix/ Neighbours/ Mention of a Karen Summary: Moving away from home to start fresh, but something already makes it so much worth the move.
~ Scenario Mobile Masterlist                                     Prompt List StayTeez Trope’Pril Masterlist If you like my stuff and wanna tip, just buy me a coffee!
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Moving to a whole new city, your nerves get the best of you and your shaking hands hold the keys, putting them up to the lock for your new apartment.
You needed to start fresh, everything back home caused you too much stress and harm, finding this to be the most reasonable way out. To save yourself and your mental health. But to also start a clean slate somewhere, meet new people and possibly find love.
You're trying your best to open the door as quickly as you can, so you can let your pup out of its carrier so he's free to roam the new apartment and get used to what you'll be calling your new home. You still didn't have a name for him yet, just calling him pup in the meantime until something sticks.
Being on your own means there's a lot of work involved with moving and getting things sorted but it made you feel independent, and it helped with the sense of starting new and fresh.
That was until you let Pup out of his carrier a little too soon, the door to your apartment still wedged open as he scatters out into the hallway, disappearing down the stairs.
"Pup! Come back!" You call after him, racing out of your apartment, taking your keys and locking the door to go find your dog, scared he would've escaped the building.
"Pup!" You called out again, hearing the scurried sounds of paws on the wooden flooring, trying to follow them to find your dog.
"Hey, little guy! Where's your owner?" You hear a chocolate smooth deep voice call out from the first floor, leaning over the bannister to see a guy with shoulder-length blonde hair picking up Pup.
Rushing down the flight of stairs, you almost miss your step and almost go flying across the floor, luckily being saved by the same guy holding Pup in one arm, the other wrapped around your waist to hold you up.
"I'm so sorry, I was trying to chase him down here." You sigh, clutching your chest as you try to get your breath back, hands out to reach for Pup as the guy shows a bright smile.
"Thank you so much for grabbing him, I was scared I was never going to get him." You add, holding onto the dog tightly, completely mesmerised by the beauty of the guy in front of you.
Strong but softened features, big eyes and heart-shaped lips. Lips that reveal the most beautiful smile you've ever seen and you thought you were on cloud 9. How can a guy like him exist in real life?
"No problem at all! Catch you later." He waves as he walks down the last flight of stairs, and you're watching his every movement until he disappears into the street.
"Well, at least we know we have a cute guy living here, right pup?" You giggle, nuzzling your nose into his head when you come back to your senses and start to make your way back up to your apartment.
It's taken you a few hours but you're slowly getting settled into your new apartment. Everything is mapped out where you want it and there was just the decorating left to do but in your own time. That was the least of your worries at this point.
But luckily enough, you had bought some flowers and plants to decorate the flat until you can splash some paint, cover the floors and make it slightly homely until you can get a job to sort it out properly.
Finding yourself to be absolutely exhausted after the day you've had, you decide to go to bed early, cuddled up with Pup in bed watching a favourite movie before dozing off.
Waking up with the light beaming through the windows, your panic slightly at first, sitting straight up in bed as you try to recollect your memory of where you were, the room seeming extremely strange until you remember you're home.
Just as you go to make yourself a coffee to start the day, there's a light knock on your door, confusing you as you knew you hadn't made any friends to tell where you live yet.
Slowly opening the door, you look around it at a frame of an older woman, sterned face and arms crossed. "Hey, how can I help?" You politely ask, stopping to pick up your dog the second he gets too close to the door.
"All I heard this morning was your dog barking! You shouldn't be allowed to have a pet that makes any noise!" This woman complains, holding her phone in one hand.
"Excuse me?" You reply as politely as you possibly could, "I'm sorry but you have my dog confused with another maybe? He's been quiet since we moved in. He would've woken me up if he was barking."
The woman looks down at you, snarling, "It was your dog! I live next door and all I could hear was him. I say get rid of him or I'll put in a complaint about you to the landlord!".
Before you could even get another word in, the guy from yesterday walks out of his apartment, shaking his head at the woman, "Can't you leave new residents alone? Plus it wasn't her Pup, it was yours keeping you up. Now please, excuse yourself from this poor girl's front door."
The woman storms off, slamming her door behind her as you turn to look at the guy, smiling. He couldn't help but reach out to fuss Pup on the head, scratching him behind his ear, "What was all that about?" You ask in a whisper.
"That's Agnes, ignore her. She's just another what you call, a Karen." He laughs, shrugging and not caring about the volume of his voice.
"What's the pup's name anyway?" He adds, looking at you with big shimmering eyes.
"I haven't got a name for him yet, I've been calling him pup since I got him the day before yesterday. Can't think of anything perfect for him." You reply, questioning yourself if you should also add your name in, just to get his back.
There's a moment of silence, you're thinking about how you can get to know more about this guy who's got you daydreaming already.
"And I'm Y/N. If you're going to have to help me with Agnes, you may as well know my name." You giggle in response and his smile only gets bigger.
"Hmm, Y/N. Such a pretty name. I'm Felix, nice to meet you." He holds out his hand, ready for you to shake.
For a couple of minutes, you're staring into each other's eyes, smiling whilst the dog tries to get out of your grasp, putting him down to instantly run towards Felix, relaxing in his arms when he picks him up.
"Awh, he likes you." You add teasingly, playing with your hair as you start to get a little cold standing by the door, "Would you like to come in? I've got coffee?"
Felix shares a brighter smile as he nods, stepping past you slowly into your apartment, Pup in your arms as he strokes him, "I think Toffee would suit him." He turns around, smiling, "Toffee rhymes with coffee, and I'm getting you're a huge coffee fan?".
"How did you know?" You reply with a hint of flirting in your voice.
"Toffee!" You call towards your dog, his ears perking upwards as his tail starts to wag, both you and Felix burst into laughter as he puts him down.
"Well, since Toffee seems to have a huge liking towards you and you chose his name, I guess I gotta get to know you more." You wink, placing a coffee in front of him as he smirks back at you.
"And I need to get to know about the girl who I saved from going flying down the stairs." He quips back playfully.
Already you can tell you're going to get along really well. And your new life, your home away from home is going to go really well.
~
Taglist: @hipster-shiz, @ateezreactionsandscenarios, @whatudowhennooneseesyou, @bellscamander
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apoptoses · 7 months
Note
your last post has me interested to know what you would consider the works of yours that you're most proud of. partly because i'd like to go back and read them a second time (or third, depending on which they are, since i've already re-read quite a number of your fics!) and give them the attention they deserve, partly just out of sheer curiosity
So I'm kinda proud of everything because I think finishing a creative work is always an achievement and we should celebrate that!! But the things I think I did the best on, or like achieved my intentions on-
I'll Be Your Operator - This was the second thing I wrote and finished and I was SO stressed about it because it's like...10k of sexual tension over food? lmao And I thought maybe that was too weird, maybe nobody would get it but people DID and I'm so happy about that and I'll always be proud of that fic for kicking off my exploration of the chase years and Armand's realization of his own feelings.
Turn Away No More - writing this made me feel so vulnerable lol I had never really seen anyone acknowledge the more visceral exterior aspects of the human body in fic. So convincing people that Daniel is a pit freak and getting them on board with it makes me proud. (also the follow up Come Get Your Knife is really important to me because of getting to dig into the layers of Armand repressing his ability to feel and take physical pleasure)
Angle of Incidence - I will never shut up about this one! Ever!! I think I pushed the limits of kink and like keeping Armand in character while having him roleplay was HARD so I'm so happy with what I achieved with that one.
Blood Sanation - I worked so hard on this and now never hear a peep about it lmao My magnum opus, lost to the void of fic having an expiration date.
Apotheosis - my latest. I just really wanted to play with the nights that Daniel is crabby, that he resents not being turned, and the way Armand might share a memory with him. But in a twisted, contrived sort of way, where he injects just enough fantasy to make Daniel question what really happened and what was crafted just for him. I think it's the darkest place I've gone with them, emotionally, and idk I just really like it!
I also would give honorable mentions to my Amadeo/Riccardo fic because writing a character that has so few lines in canon like Riccardo was a challenge. And Fate as it Flows and Paradoxical Movement for pushing the kink envelope (as far as VC fic goes)
But thank you for this ask!! I like the chance to speak positively about my work, I think creators need to brag on themselves more because what we do is hard and we do it just because of the passion we have for the characters. And we should celebrate what we do!!
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antialiasis · 2 years
Text
Belated additional thoughts on Groundhog Day the musical
Yes hello you thought I had stopped but the other day I discovered there is now at least one full bootleg of Groundhog Day on YouTube that is (mostly) significantly higher-quality than the one I'd previously obtained, and I rewatched it and had even more disorganized thoughts on it. (Hi, if you're new here, see my Groundhog Day tag for the previous thoughts, which were many)
In Rita's first diary entry from day one, she brings up other stuff before she brings up Phil; he's the asshole she expected him to be, and ultimately basically an eye-roll-worthy footnote in her otherwise fun day. On day two, when Phil's been more noticeably erratic, she first brings up that she's been working with Phil Connors, because the simply strange way he's been acting has made him a slightly more noteworthy part of her day, compared to the first iteration.
On day one Phil goes "Think I'm gonna lose it altogether if one more person talks about the weather…" a few times, and is then interrupted by Mrs. Lancaster on "talks--" for the last one. On day two he just goes "Think I'm gonna lose it altogether if one more person talks," and stops there without being interrupted - he's just exasperated with any of these people talking to him, at all, especially if they're going to act like it's yesterday.
The sheer variety of different things they pull out to depict a car chase onstage is suuuuuuch a goddamn delight. Turntables, car exoskeleton in two halves around sitting actors, extras moving the halves around them to simulate up-and-down movement, miniatures, simulating motion through extras moving miniature backgrounds, overhead miniatures… The sheer inventiveness of it is just nuts. Throw all of the awards at Matthew Warchus please.
The choreography of Philandering where Phil kind of dances along to everything, moves in time with the music, eggs on the groundhog and then makes a little thing of artfully dodging the swinging sun, etc., is just so fun. Prior to that he's never in sync with the townspeople for all the celebrations at all, resolutely out of step with them; here he still sticks out but he is playing a fluid part in it all, because he's (for the moment) actually enjoying it all and knows the moves and is seamlessly a part of it.
I love how many bits in the "One Day" sequence imply other iterations we don't see. Like how Phil makes a weird point of going "I love kids!" during the snowball fight, which Rita agrees with - we don't see it but we know that previously he said something about how he can't stand the little bastards and got a negative reaction.
Phil is getting so desperate on the last iteration of the Rita date. Part of the reason it's so creepy is he's just unable to even make any of it sound convincing anymore because his mental state has been deteriorating and he's absolutely clinging to the idea that he must be able to win this and get anything he wants. (The powerlessness of realizing and finally accepting that he just can't, despite everything, sort of triggers the depressive spiral.)
The choreography at the end of One Day as Phil starts spiralling, pulling his coat tighter, seeming out of sync again and scared and vulnerable and then undressing and flinching away from the people and just crawling back into his bed, oof.
"That's it for me live from Punxsutawney" has just a liiiittle extra emphasis on live that is definitely intentional.
Phil is uncomfortable and moves away from Rita when she's trying to comfort him by putting her arm around him on the bench after he confesses what's going on. This is definitely because of all the times that he painstakingly tried to manipulate affection out of her - some part feeling like he's somehow accidentally doing that again when he wasn't even trying to and doesn't even want that right now (and probably feels at least a bit gross about it), some part kneejerk conditioned expectation that that Always Goes Horribly Wrong and he should stay away.
Phil holds his jacket up in front of his face so Fred and Debbie won't recognize him during "If I Had My Time Again", really enjoy that detail. Usually he kind of likes them to recognize him, says thanks for watching at least - he probably gets a little ego boost out of it, and he's willing to go through the motions of it even when he isn't feeling it. But right now he just doesn't want the attention and is exhausted by everything and just does not want to deal with that. A little later in the choreography they do recognize him and he still signs autographs and smiles briefly (and forcedly) for the photo, clearly running on autopilot.
For the whole first half of the "If I Had My Time Again" choreography he's kind of trying to not enjoy himself, giving back all the festival food he's given, etc. He takes off the pendant he's given after escaping from the crowd, like he's done on previous days, but that's when Rita goes "I'd sample all the samples, look at things from different angles," and he actually puts it back on and has a sip of the coffee. And then begins to tell her about where he went skinny-dipping in a frozen-over pond and learned to drive an 18-wheeler through a store window, warming up slightly into having fun, a little bit (that one post suggesting he's putting a positive spin on some of his suicide attempts there is very plausible and I love it).
The way the tilt-a-whirl bit just ends up in Phil staring at Rita in wonder as she's having the time of her life. It's so hard for him to remember that having fun like that at something so simple is even a thing you can do. (He could have seen that in the townspeople, of course, but he hasn't been thinking of them as people and their joy has just been annoying.)
"You always have a really good day, except for when I mess it up for you." There's a little pause before he says this, like he's just realizing it.
"You know, this is the, uh… This is the best day that I can remember?" has this uncertain tone to it, like he half thinks that just sounds really pathetic.
I love how purely platonic that one day is. Romance and sex are the furthest thing from Phil's mind, he actively rejects physical contact, they just hang out and do some kinda fun things and make jokes and that's the first time they just actually connect as human beings and that's what sparks a little bit of joy for him again. And then what's the first thing he does the next morning? Trying to connect with other people as human beings too, shed his jerkass habits and just actually treat them as people.
He has a little chuckle at echoing the popsicle line without actually calling attention to it or anything there on the first day post-"If I Had My Time Again", in a way that makes it seem fond, and that's just cute.
After taking a picture with Fred and Debbie he tells them to have fun today! No catchphrases or thanks for watching this time, just hey, I hope you enjoy your day. How lovely.
"I was talking to Buster and he thinks we can get the best shot right about here." So he was actually talking to people in town, getting their opinions! Like they matter! And wants Larry's opinion, too!
Phil making a note of Jensen's name, wanting to remember it, after bringing him into the hospital. Just that little "Jensen." says so much.
During "Philanthropy" he gets Mrs. Lancaster into the snowball fight with the kids and she loves it oh my god
In general, I was prepared to maybe enjoy it less than when I was originally hyperfixating on it and notice the flaws more or feel more ambivalent overall, but instead I just found myself being re-delighted with most everything about it. The way it's staged and directed is so clever and I love Andy Karl's Phil Connors so much, what a precisely Me(tm) character. I didn't even mention how much I enjoy all of his body language. Or the quality pained grunt after Rita slaps him at the end of the date sequence.
please watch this musical I love it so much
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stingslikeabee · 2 months
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"If I manage to barricade the clock tower, would you fancy a picnic?" By barricade, he meant his men warding off any that wanted to climb it. There was a lovely view of Midgar in the distance, nestled amongst the skyline of fading light.
unscripted asks . always accepting
Birds singing outside was not a sound that Melissa had been used to waking up to - there were not many animals that had resisted the harsh environment of Midgar, particularly the one created below plate and which was challenging enough to humans. Perhaps the presence of nature was one of the things that fascinated the madame the most about Kalm, more than seeing the sky for once (rather than just metal).
But the absence of troopers everywhere and the lack of checkpoints did provide more chances for the occasional surprise attack - no wonder the Turks were always close by, monitoring the pair from a certain distance but within reach. Despite Rufus not advertising his presence in town (which led to a surprising number of people ignoring him), he was still the individual with recognizable features, even with sunglasses... And there were those who still resented Shinra following the end of the war with Junon.
The last attempt barely qualified as one - it was clumsy executed and subdued before it could create any scandal, but the assailant did injure Melissa in the process (arguably by accident). Her hand had been properly bandaged and the best doctor in town called over - and the woman was the first one to say it had been nothing, unlikely to scar and not something worth of returning to Midgar.
It was clear that she wanted to stay - the caged bird she had been longed for the fresh air and the picturesque landscapes; a minor scratch was a non-issue.
Melissa was indulged after a compromise - the Turks would discreetly investigate to ensure nothing else would blindside them if the madame agreed to stay in her suite while they worked. All that time, however, was spent by the window - looking at the feathery friends outside who chirped happily across the branches of a tree at window level. The distraction was so powerful that Melissa failed to notice Rufus' presence until he was close to her, having entered her room at some point.
His offer caught the inn owner by surprise - it was... Very thoughtful of him. They hadn't yet been to the tower, given the increased chances of his identity being exposed and the large number of fans that would likely swarm him, and the madame had assumed nothing of the sort was on the table anymore given the recent events. That he was suggesting one of the things she wanted to do the most - as any other tourist did - and ensuring safety measures to make it happen was...
...Generous, surely. Kind, maybe? At any rate, his attitude once again contrasted heavily to the prior bias and it stunned the brunette into silence, enough for a light smile to appear on the president's features. Shaking her head and regaining movement, Melissa's own lips curved upwards in an appreciative gesture, emphasized by a determined nod of her head.
"I would. I imagine the tower is better suited than a heliport for a meal with a scenery - no need to chase after food being blown away," the madame commented with humor, the rooftop of Shinra Building being the only other place that had comparable qualities... But would never be good grounds for a picnic. Following that, Melissa took a step closer to Rufus, extending a hand as if a deal was to be sealed.
It didn't occur to her that it was the one with the white bandages - not until he accepted the handshake but allowed a thumb to brush over the rough tissue keeping Melissa protected. Once more, she blinked - and then turned their linked hands into something less professional and more personal by covering the president's one with her unscathed palm, the arrangement resembling more of a promise between a couple.
"But I have one condition - could we please get the food ourselves from the market? Assuming Tseng allows us to do it, of course," the addition came automatically - the Turks were practically the woman's shadow too as long as that collaboration endured, "They are famous for cherries and they are your favorites, after all. I would love to handpick them myself."
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