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fortheloveofhoneys · 6 months

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Arts & Culture / November 2016

Deadpan Walking

Norm Macdonald's surprising second act

BY GRANT MUNROEUpdated 14:46, Sep. 14, 2021 | Published 9:14, Oct. 17, 2016 This article was published over a year ago. Some information may no longer be current.

MIDWAY THROUGH a ninety-minute set at the Chrysler Theatre in Windsor last April, Norm Macdonald reached for a list of topics sitting on a stool next to the mic. He held it at a distance from his face, adjusting a pair of spectacles he’d pulled from a pocket in his faded dad jeans. The audience laughed as he mapped out the last half of his routine. Several topics were dismissed—“No. No. Good Lord, no”—before he stopped and winced. “There’s no way I’m doing that.”

“Do it!” a woman shouted.

“Okay, okay, but I feel an obligation to warn the more sensitive souls with us tonight—” He took off his glasses and assumed the stony-ironic mask of seriousness that, a lifetime ago, became one of his trademarks on Saturday Night Live. “What I am about to broach is one of the most difficult things any of us could face. This is an unpleasant topic.”

He slowly folded the scrap of paper, placed it tenderly upon the stool, and grinned boyishly. “Suicide!”

The room exploded.

After arguing against the idea that suicide is cowardly—“What could be less cowardly than murdering yourself?”—he moved on to the costs and benefits of auto-erotic asphyxiation.

“Benefit: an orgasm that’s one-point-five times more pleasurable than a normal orgasm. Cost: a chance your son will discover you blue-faced, tongue out, clutching your cock.”

Macdonald then segued into the topic of death more generally. “Lots of people are scared,” he said. “They’re scared about what’s after this hellish existence . . . . And I’m like them. I don’t know nothing about none of that. Nobody knows what happens after you die. But I do know what happens right after you die. You’re found.”

Waiting for the laughter to subside, Macdonald scratched the back of his neck. “And that’s the worst part, there. That’s the worst part. Being found.”

MORE THAN twenty years ago, Macdonald—like his SNL peers Mike Myers, Adam Sandler, and Sarah Silverman—seemed poised to secure a place in the comedy pantheon. Following a steady rise through the Canadian stand-up circuit, a network debut appearance on David Letterman, and gigs for Dennis Miller and Roseanne Barr, he’d been hired as an SNL writer and cast member in 1993. A year later, he began anchoring the “fake news”—his term for the show’s long-running “Weekend Update” segment. Much of Macdonald’s best humour was less topical, more absurdist—and dark. “The Food and Drug Administration announced today that while one ounce of Special K with four ounces of milk is a good dietary source of protein, one ounce of Special K with five ounces of milk is deadly poison” was one of his characteristically deadpan “news” items.

Rather than chasing easy applause from the studio audience, Macdonald dedicated himself to performing humour he found original—an approach that eventually drew the ire of NBC brass, who were aggressively fighting to boost the show’s then-dismal ratings. They fired Macdonald in 1997 and cancelled a deal with MGM studios for a series of commercials promoting Macdonald’s feature comedy film, Dirty Work. While the movie now enjoys cult status, its box-office numbers were bleak. Macdonald’s 1999 debut sitcom on ABC, The Norm Show, also fared poorly. His career took a nosedive.

But it never hit ground. Macdonald levelled off his glide path and has spent the time since creating a popular, smart comic brand under the mainstream radar. He’s never played the lead in a Shrek, Billy Madison, or Wreck-It Ralph—but he’s done well. And he’s done it on his terms, often independent of the studio system.

If the Windsor show was any indication, many of Macdonald’s current fans were still in elementary school when he was reading fake news on SNL. Most know him entirely from YouTube: stand-up sets, comedy specials, late-night talk-show appearances, and the Norm Macdonald Live podcasts, which feature long-form interviews with the likes of Sandler and Margaret Cho.

After the show, I watched Macdonald plow through a plate of pot roast and potatoes at a late-night diner. With half a dozen young fans in attendance, he told filthy jokes, talked hockey, and bashed Bret Easton Ellis for calling Alice Munro “overrated.” An amateur comic sharing our table asked Macdonald how his routine had developed over the course of his career. “I guess now I always try to kick the prevailing idea of what comedy is, or the attitude behind it,” he said, forking a green bean. “Maybe that had to do with hitting the fifty mark.”

A few months later, I met Macdonald at his two-bedroom condo in a planned community near the Venice neighbourhood of Los Angeles. The place was spare and clean, like an upscale vacation timeshare. Macdonald is mostly itinerant, travelling from club to theatre to club. With his twenty-three-year-old son, Dylan, away at the University of Iowa’s writing program, Macdonald—long divorced and still unattached—had the condo to himself.

After offering me an orange, he sank into a leather-upholstered recliner and kicked off his sneakers. Comfortably dressed in a dark-blue T-shirt and sweatpants, Macdonald had planned to spend a happy afternoon live-Tweeting the third round of the 98th PGA Championship. Bad weather at the Baltusrol Golf Club dashed that dream. So we chatted about his early years, his stand-up, and his book instead.

From his very first sets as a twenty-something amateur comedian in Ottawa, Macdonald stood out thanks to his flat tone—most noticeable at the climax of a punchline. He would often end his payoff sentences with deliberate abruptness, as with this “Update” throwback: “In music news, number one on the college charts this summer was Better than Ezra. And at number two: Ezra.” That’s an iffy joke on paper. But on air, Macdonald’s delivery—and his steady, confident stare—made it work.

His parents, Percy and Ferne, worked as civilian teachers at CFB Valcartier, a military installation just north of Quebec City. Macdonald lived there until he was twelve. He told me he was plagued in his youth by an almost “crippling shyness,” which got worse when he was identified as gifted and skipped two grades. Now both the quietest and smallest boy in his class, Macdonald turned inward, writing lengthy stories conceived as fragments of a larger collection he’d titled I Hate Everybody in My Class. His older brother, Neil, who would eventually become senior correspondent for CBC’s The National, remembered the works as having been akin to “Icelandic sagas.”

Six years ago, when Macdonald successfully pitched his newly released memoir, Based on a True Story, he thought writing it would be easy. But while working on a draft, Macdonald watched a tape of one of his early sets and spiralled into self-doubt: “It was the absolute worst fucking shit you’ve ever seen.” Reading over the little he’d already written, Macdonald decided his first book was destined to be as terrible as his first routine. Only after unburdening himself to a therapist was he able to see the project through.

Based on a True Story rejects the jokey, formulaic, humblebraggy style—and biographical accuracy—of recent comedy memoirs (think Tina Fey’s bestselling Bossypants). Three stories are woven throughout it: a mostly fictionalized history of Norm’s life from birth to his firing from SNL; an outlandish road-trip caper that sees Norm (who in the past struggled with a real-life gambling problem) scheming to make a fortune by gambling on casino credit; and a meta-fictional narrative centred on Norm’s ghostwriter, who exposes the ostensible author as a fraud.

Some lines take their rhythm straight from the comedy club. (“Death is a funny thing. Not funny haha, like a Woody Allen movie, but funny strange, like a Woody Allen marriage.”) The book makes no mention of Dylan or his mother, Macdonald’s former wife. When I asked why, Macdonald told me he would have had to portray his ex in a comic fashion. “I couldn’t figure how to do that without the possibility of offending her.” Their relationship, according to the comedian, is distant but cordial.

His publisher suggested Macdonald include more stories involving Sandler, whom the comedian counts as a friend. None came to mind. “What stories?” he asked rhetorically. “[Sandler] is an incredibly nice guy who’s been generous to me over the span of my entire career. There’s no dirt or anything, holy Lord. And the backstage stuff wasn’t funny. It was just guys talking basketball, trying to think up stuff.”

Indeed, Based on a True Story is completely devoid of celebrity gossip—not because Macdonald doesn’t have any, but because he doesn’t find it funny. He hates “upwardly mobile” schmoozing and happily avoids Hollywood parties: mega-celebrities make him uneasy. “The trouble with those people is that they’re all enormously wealthy,” he told me. He pointed a banana he was eating at the cat toys on the carpet. “I can’t invite them here. And if I go to their place, it’s like being in a museum. Money separates people like crazy.”

“It’s sad, you know, because I used to hang out with Sandler all the time. But now it feels weird. Whenever I go to his place, I’m always worried that he’s worried that I want something from him.” He shrugged. “Even if it’s only my imagination, it makes things uncomfortable.”

Finances notwithstanding, Macdonald’s reputation is first-rate among comedy insiders—as reflected in a glowing profile published recently in the Washington Post. Two days after it ran, the comedian told me, Netflix offered him his own series—no pitch necessary.

WHAT MAKES good comedy resonate with an audience, Macdonald has come to believe, is a comedian’s underlying commitment to truth. “It’s not just the truth in what you say, but in the persona the audience sees performing. You have to learn who you are.”

The real Macdonald can be dark—unsettlingly so. He had to fight with his editor to keep some of his book’s most gruesome passages. One involves a nine-year-old boy with a terminal illness who receives a hospital visit from Norm thanks to a children’s wish-granting organization. “Do you swear to God you’ll make my wish come true, Norm?” the child asks. After initially demurring, the narrator finds himself overwhelmed by “a curious tenderness” and says, “I swear to God”:

The boy looked at me directly and I could see the tears fill his eyes. He spoke softly, his voice quavering and unsteady. “I want to kill a baby seal.”

What follows is an adventure in which Norm takes the boy to Labrador, where the lad crushes the skull of a baby harp seal using a traditional hakapik. After dancing in the gore, the boy makes a miraculous recovery. Two sentences later, back in the city, he is struck and killed by a municipal bus.

“I thought a long time about cutting that part,” Macdonald said. It remains a section he’s unhappy with. Not because of its content, but because of the quality of the writing. “It was rushed,” he admitted. But it had to be kept in order to properly set up the following chapter, “Tiny White Coffin,” in which Norm fumbles through a twenty-minute eulogy.

In one of the most memorable segments of his 2011 Comedy Central special, Macdonald riffed on the psychosexual obsessions of spree murderers, whose victims, he told the audience, always seem to be buried in “shallow graves.” If he were a spree murderer, he said, he would set himself apart by digging “very, very, very deep graves.”

An earlier version of this bit, which Macdonald said ruined countless hour-long sets, was so grim and off-putting that his friends told him to abandon it. But he couldn’t. He knew there was something funny embedded in the horrific premise. The challenge was to discover a crack in the wall that the audience put up. Getting it right, he told me, took a year of field testing in comedy clubs.

The breakthrough, Macdonald said, came when he realized that he had to make it about his own self-directed (and entirely invented) suspicions. “I couldn’t do it in [the] third [person]. It bombed. Too creepy. But when I said, ‘Now, I can’t read the future. I don’t know that I’d never want to kill a girl. Who knows? I’m not Nostradamus. Yet even in today’s enlightened society, there remains a stigma against being a pychosexual sadist.’ When I said that, they knew I was joking, and they’d allow me to do it.”

Though he’s indifferent to politics, Macdonald regrets the growing hypersensitivity among some audiences—mostly on college campuses, which he does not play. “It’s sad,” he says. “Historically, those were the greatest clubs. George Carlin built his career on that circuit.”

“One of the usual questions that people ask comics is, ‘What’s out of bounds?’” He cites fellow comedian Bill Maher, who’s known to do jokes on topics such as 9/11 and AIDS. “[But] the true answer is that if you want to take on a serious topic, fine, but you have to work hard to make it good. There are ways to do it. Bringing up a shocking subject just to get a shocked laugh is retarded.”

That said, Macdonald has tweaked parts of his routine to reflect rapidly shifting societal attitudes to subjects such as transgender people. Caitlyn Jenner once figured in his stand-up—but no more. Macdonald still does all the same jokes, but he uses himself as the target: “When I was young, I said, ‘Dad, I’m a lady.’ He said, ‘But you have a cock.’ I said, ‘Ah, you got me.’ That’s how hateful we were back then. Don’t blame us. We were just hateful people.”

Before his book came out, Macdonald expressed many of the concerns common to debut authors. Was it being pitched to critics and editors properly? Would they understand the story? Would they get the humour? After making a note to call his publicists and suggest a new promotional angle he’d thought of, the comedian apologized.

“I feel weird talking about the book so much,” he said. “I’m just happy it’s over. It’s the worst thing I ever went through, in a way—but fulfilling.”

“The thing that would make me most sad, though,” he added after a moment’s reflection, “is if someone wrote, ‘This comedian thinks he’s a real writer. Well, nice try.’”

This appeared in the November 2016 issue.

Grant Munroe

Grant Munroe has written for the Globe and Mail and Literary Hub.

#norm macdonald

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harpermiller · 4 years

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this is a place where i don’t feel alone (this is the place where i feel at home).

Summary: When you’re born in the sleepy little town of Ark, Colorado, you’re either smart enough to get yourself out, or you die there. People get bored, and people make bad choices. Which leaves a lot of kids fending for themselves. And this is where David Miller came in.

Or David Miller being a dad to all the delinquents

Pairing: Gen

The sleepy little town of Ark, Colorado had a population of just under one thousand. It had one church, one school, and one sheriff. Full of dirt roads, farms dotting the outskirts. They had a grocery store, a liquor store, a post office, one clothing store other than the Walmart, a diner, and a hospital. When you’re born in Ark, you’re either smart enough to get yourself out, or you died there.

People get bored, and people make bad choices. Which leaves a lot of kids fending for themselves.

And this is where David Miller came in.

Sheriff of Ark, David Miller lived in an old farmhouse about a mile from town up a dirt road. He and his wife had bought it, intending to fill its many rooms with many children. But life wasn’t often fair, leaving the house mostly empty with just David and his only son Nathan.

It was an accident that his home became a refuge of some sort.

As Nathan grew older and brought home friends and boyfriends, David always made sure that the kids of Ark felt welcomed. Nathan would tease him that his catchphrase was, “Our door is always open.” Because it was. As far as David was concerned, if a kid needed somewhere to go, his house was there.

The first was little Clarke Griffin.

Read the rest on ao3

#the 100 #the 100 fic #the 100 fanfiction #the delinquents #david miller #nathan miller #clarke griffin #bellamy blake #octavia blake #raven reyes #john murphy #jasper jordan #monty green #harper mcintyre #bryan (the 100)#this is just my david miller deserved better fic #as well as david miller is the best dad #also found family trope which im a sucker for

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 3 years

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WPP - Kenny (We’re The Millers)

This has been sitting in my drafts for months and I was struggling to finish it, but, a bright light ascended from the heavens, in the form of an angel, and that angel’s name is @gladerscake

Big thanks to them for helping me out and finishing this imagine. Go follow them and give all the love and support you can muster!

~~~~~~~~~~

Being in the witness protection program was...interesting.

It definitely was not what you were expecting, but then again, you didn’t know helping out a person you cared about would get you involved in a murder, yet here you are.

You had to leave everything behind, not that you had that much of a life to begin with, but it was comfortable. Now, everything was different. New home in a new state, even a new last name. Thankfully, you got to keep your first name, you were grateful for that at least.

You were surprised to find the most annoying thing was the neighbourhood that the program placed you in. It’s like it was made for Mormons or something, your neighbours were too nice, at least the house to the right of yours. You didn’t really know who lived in the house to the left, working from home had the benefit of never going outside and the only reason you knew who lived to your right was cause those neighbours were the type of people to introduce themselves.

Yuck.

But still, you couldn’t help but be a little curious.

You did know, however, that they had only recently moved in since the one morning truck woke up before your alarm rang that morning. You were grouchy the rest of the day, thus you’ve been slightly petty towards your “new” neighbours since then. You definitely needed to work on your attitude...one day.

After being inside your house for more than a week, you decided you wanted some vitamin D, which you rarely ever did so you must’ve been seriously deprived.

You walked out of the door leading to the backyard with a book in hand, frowning when you saw how overgrown the grass was from your laziness. You told yourself you’d do it later, and by later you meant you would mow your yard when you started to hate yourself enough to the point where you felt too guilty leaving it alone.

You huffed as you sat in one of your lawn chairs that you bought when you moved in, lying to yourself that you were going to spend more time outside when you knew you wouldn’t. A first for everything, you supposed.

A few chapters in, you heard a door open and shut in your neighbour’s backyard, but you thought nothing of it, almost too entranced in your book.

You smiled to yourself when you started to hear 1990s R&B playing softly, not your cup of tea but you enjoyed it occasionally. Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls had just started playing when you heard the neighbour’s back door slammed. “Dude, turn that shit off! You’ve been playing that song constantly and I’m actually getting sick of it. God.” You heard an angsty female voice.

Oh no...you lived next a family.

“Hey!”

You flinched, noticing a blonde girl was talking you. “Uh, hey?” You slowly closed your book, reluctantly walking over to the fence separating the backyards when the girl motioned you over.

“Haven’t seen you around before, just move in?” She asked, smirking slightly, looking you up and down.

You mocked her smirk, not liking the almost condescending look she was giving you. “No, been here for awhile. That’s how I know you’ve only just moved in a few weeks ago.”

The girl’s smirk only grew. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N. Yours?”

“Casey, and that loser is Kenny.” She pointed to the table behind her, seeing a blonde boy sitting somewhat dejectedly in one of the chairs fiddling with a small CD player. “Hey, TLC, get over here!” The boy looked to Casey with a panicked expression, visibly looking like he wasn’t sure if the girl meant it or not. She rolled her eyes, “Come on, dude!”

The boy nodded, frantically walking away to join Casey at the fence. “Hey.” He stuttered, blushing when he noticed your eyes on him.

Casey rolled her eyes yet again. “Yeah, this is Kenny.”

Kenny waved quite adorably, giving you a tight lipped smile. “Did you just move in?”

“No, I-”

“We’ve already had this talk, she’s been here longer than we have.” Casey interrupted, making your blood boil a little bit, her attitude almost worse than yours.

Kenny frowned slightly, but covered it up with a smile. “Oh.”

“Yep. We’ve already become besties.” You said sarcastically, grinning widely, making Kenny genuinely smile a little.

“Kids!” A middle aged man with a stupid haircut, to you anyway, walked over with hesitant look on his face. “Who’s this?”

“Y/N, your neighbour that’s lived here longer than you have. Saved you the trouble of telling him yourself, Casey.” You sneered.

“Oh. Well, I’m David and we’re the Millers! My wife, Sarah, is at the market right now, but I’m sure she’d be glad to meet you sometime.” He smiled widely, making you uncomfortable.

“Uh, dad, chill out. You’re gonna scare away the only girl I find suitable to be friends with in this shit neighbourhood.” Casey whispered harshly.

You didn’t really want to be friends with Casey, you never really got along with girls. Clearly, reading outside was a bad choice...

“Ha ha, if you sass me one more time today, you will be grounded young lady.” David forced another smile.

“Uh, Dad...”

“Shut up, Kenny.”

You quickly realized where the Kenny kid was in the family food chain. It was a shame, the dude was pretty easy on the eyes and seemed nice from what you’ve seen. “Look, I’m just gonna go. Nice meeting you fine folks...” You waved awkwardly, turning around and practically speed walking inside your house.

Well, that was fun...never going outside ever again.

The overall encounter put you in a sour mood, so when the doorbell rang you prayed to god that it wasn’t the yearly check in with law enforcement cause you’d probably get yourself in trouble with that attitude of yours.

You were mildly shocked to see that awkward Kenny guy outside your door, his eyes trained on his feet before you opened the door. “Kenny Miller, right?”

“Uh...yeah, Miller. Uh, I just want to apologize for my, uh, family’s behavior. They don’t have the best of manners, but they’re good people, I swear!” He ranted at such a quick pace that it almost flew right over your head. “So, yeah, sorry.”

You chuckled at his nervousness. “You don’t have to be sorry, especially on the behalf of your family. They don’t seem like the type to appreciate it anyway.”

His eyes widened, holding up his hands and shaking his head. “No, no, no, it’s not like that! They, uh, appreciate me.” You kept your mouth shut, giving him a sympathetic look with a soft smile. He sighed. “It’s that obvious, huh?”

“To me, it is. I’ve been in that situation before, so it’s not that hard to notice.”

“Oh...well, they can be nice sometimes I guess.”

“I hope so. Well, it was nice to meet you, Kenny.” You stuck your hand out, smiling when he hesitated but shook your outstretched hand gently.

A week later, you and Kenny actually became friends despite the two of you being almost complete opposites. He was able to poke through your cynical exterior, which was extremely rare for someone to do. He made you laugh, smile, and actually enjoy life when you were with him. You didn’t like it at first, but his adorkable personality won you over.

Kenny was more than overjoyed, he finally had a friend, not one out of pity anyway. The first time you two had hung out, he came “home” with a huge grin on his face. Of course, Casey had to tease him about it all the time.

“I still don’t understand how she can be friends with that loser and not me!” Casey ranted. “It doesn’t make sense!”

“Casey, stop calling Kenny a loser, please.” Sarah sighed, tapping away on her keyboard.

As soon as Sarah said that, Kenny walked through the door with another grin on his face. “Hey, Ma!”

“You don’t have to call me that here, hon.” Sarah voiced, shutting her laptop and walking out of the kitchen, but she smiled to herself.

“Pop your cherry yet?” Casey smirked evilly.

Kenny immediately blushed. “I told you, we’re just friends...”

She rolled her eyes. “You obviously want to be more than just friends with her. You should just ask her out and get it over with.”

“But...Melissa...”

Casey huffed loudly. “Dude, I already told you, she’s probably moved on by now. She was a total babe, she can and probably has done way better than you.”

“Hey...” Kenny frowned, to which Casey just shrugged, her eyes training back to her phone. He sighed as he sat down across from his “sister.” “I do like her...but I don’t know how to bring it up. I’m awful at talking to girls about...that kind of stuff.”

Casey snorted. “Yeah, no kidding.” But she dropped her amused smirk when she saw Kenny glaring. “Sorry, sorry.” She sassed. “I mean, it did work out with the ginger to be fair, but we have to stay in this shithole until further notice. But I really do think you should shoot your shot with what’s her name.”

Kenny rolled his eyes. “Y/N.”

“Yeah, whatever. Just-”

“That girl is bad news.” David suddenly voiced, walking into the kitchen.

“What do you mean by that?” Casey asked.

“Uh, hello? Pay attention to your surroundings instead of that stupid phone of yours to see that we are in witness protection. We can’t trust any of these creepy neighbours.”

“Uh, I think you’re a tad bit paranoid, father dearest.”

“Y/N’s really cool though!” Kenny expressed.

David rolled his eyes. “But we don’t really know her, we don’t know if she’s a snitch or something.”

Casey laughed. “Wow, you really are paranoid, dude.”

“Ha ha, very funny, just go to your room and listen to your Metallicas and AC/DCs.”

Casey’s face contorted into a disgusted scowl. “I don’t listen to that garbage.”

“Shut up.” David simply replied, making Casey stand up and storm out of the room and up the stairs. ��Look, Ken, I get you like this girl, but you need to be careful. Don’t say things you shouldn’t and all that. You have a tendency to not know when to shut your mouth. So, don’t do that, kay?”

Kenny nodded curtly, avoiding David’s eyes as he felt his face heat up in slight anger. He knew he had some...issues with keeping his mouth shut about things that should be kept a secret, but he grew up, right? He’s not as naïve as he was before they went to Mexico, but his “family” still treated him like he was five. Plus, he knew you weren’t the type to be a snitch.

While Kenny was dealing with feeling underappreciated, you were having your own set of issues to handle. Today was the day for a check up with law enforcement to make sure you were on your best behavior. You always were, but it still made you anxious to no end. And you prayed that Kenny wouldn’t rush in to your house like he got into the habit of doing when you were interrogated.

Of course, that didn’t happen.

“For fuck’s sake...” You muttered under your breath when you saw Kenny’s shocked and scared face when he saw you sitting with a couple local police officers.

On your end, it just looked like he was scared of police officers. But Kenny’s mind immediately went haywire, thinking that you called them over to investigate them even though the police were already informed of “the Millers” situation.

“Kenny, now’s not a good time.” You sighed.

“No, no, it’s okay.” The police officer in front of you said. “We’re done here anyway.” He walked out of your house with his partner, leaving you and Kenny in an awkward silence.

“What was that all about?” Kenny asked, not being able to control the bitter tone in his voice. “Did you think we’re that bad or something?”

“Kenny, I-”

“We’ve been doing really well here!” Kenny interrupted. “No problems with anybody, been on our best behavior.”

“Kenny.”

“I don’t wanna go to jail. I can’t go to jail. We’ve only been here for a couple months.”

“Kenny, stop!” You finally yelled, losing your temper. “They were here to check up on me, for fuck’s sake.”

Kenny’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but still had a slight expression of panic. “Here for you? B-But-”

“I’m in witness protection, you dweeb, same as you.”

“Oh...Wait, how did you know I’m in witness protection?”

“Your family,” You finger quoted, “looks nothing like you. All of you don’t look anything alike. How paranoid and secretive that David is, it wasn’t too hard to put things together. You rambling off like an absolute moron a minute ago just reaffirmed my theory.”

Kenny frowned. “Dang, I thought I had worked on that.”

You smiled slightly. “It’s alright, Ken. I’m no snitch, and I’m not very judgmental about someone’s past. What did you even do though? You’re definitely not the type to break the law.” You chuckled.

“Oh, well, we kinda smuggled some drugs across the Mexican border.” He stuttered.

“Holy shit, dude! That’s sick! What was it? Was it coke?” You grinned, eager to learn.

Kenny blinked at your excitement, but obliged to all your questions, sitting down next to you. “No, it was marijuana.”

Your face slightly dropped in excitement. “Oh. I really think weed should be legal. It’s stupid, it’s not even a hard drug.”

“Well, we’re lucky we even made it out alive. But what did you go through to get yourself here?”

Now, you definitely didn’t judge past crimes of others, if they’ve atoned for it and changed that is, but you had no idea if Kenny would judge you. You actually found yourself not wanting him to look at you in a different light, and you’ve never felt that way before.

Kenny seemed perfectly sweet, almost too sweet to judge anyone, but on the other hand...the stuff that had landed you in the program was definitely heavier than some weed smuggling.

Maybe it would be too much for him. Maybe it would be best to just make something up, something less horrible, something he wouldn’t be too shocked by. As tempting as that route felt, the idea of lying to him weirdly didn’t sit well with you, though.

Kenny was quick to notice the lengthy pause that followed his question, as well as the way your shoulders tensed and your eyes averted to the parquet floor. Oh no. Had he pried into something too personal? Was he an idiot for asking?

“Oh, um...you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to!” Kenny hurried to assure you, slight panic beginning to etch his bluish-green eyes, his fists clenching and unclenching involuntarily. “I was just curious, is all! I’m sorry if it’s too persona-“

“It’s okay!” To his surprise, you pulled on a tight-lipped smile, giving him a look as nonchalant as you could manage at the moment. “Really, you don’t have to apologize for asking. Plus, you already told me about your thing, so...” You trailed off, softly, wondering how to proceed.

As much as you resented the thought of Kenny seeing you differently, you decided even that unpleasant outcome would still be better than lying to him. You’d rather not. You liked Kenny. Despite not having spent a tremendous amount of time together, you could tell he was a genuinely good person, and you definitely enjoyed his company. Not to mention, it would be a blatant lie if you said you weren’t at all attracted to him.

Casey may have spent most of their interactions calling him a “loser” in some form or another, but you couldn’t be farther away from agreeing with her. A part of you was positively annoyed with the way she treated him. Then again, taste is subjective. It wasn’t Casey’s fault if she didn’t have a good sense of it.

With a deep intake of air, you nervously flipped a loose strand of hair over your shoulder, still avoiding direct eye-contact with Kenny. “I, uh...It’s a rough one, really. And kind of a long story. I wouldn’t wanna dump something like that on you, if you’d rather not hear it”

He tentatively pursed his plump lips, but nonetheless nodded for you to keep going. “I’m sure I can handle it! Whatever it is, I’m not gonna judge you, Y/N. I promise!”

Promise, huh? Guess you were going to have to see about that.

Trying to ignore the rapidly increasing pace of your heart and slight tremble in your fingers, you began your story.

You didn’t want to go into too much detail, for the fear of oversharing, but you did tell him as much as you felt you could. About how you used to have a friend...a pretty close friend, who you cared about a great deal, who had always been kind and generous, alas, a bit of a troublemaker.

About how she had fallen in with the wrong crowd, something you admittedly failed to see coming. How that crowd turned out to be a notoriously vicious gang that had it out for some other poor girl, who had apparently slept with one of the gang leaders’ boyfriend without realizing it.

How that gang, your friend included, lured her onto a rooftop to “fuck with her” and “teach her a lesson.” Only that night, they went too far and ended up pushing her off. The girl died instantly, and due to the heaping pile of evidence, it wasn’t a particularly long investigation. Almost everyone involved were arrested shortly after, and you, having been brought in as one of the witnesses, had a choice whether you wanted to testify against your friend or not.

At first you weren’t sure if you wanted to do that and make matters worse for her. However, after some much-needed reflection and consideration, you decided it would be the right thing to do. Someone had died, and your friend played a part in it. You couldn’t turn a blind eye to something that big simply because you two were close.

Your friend was put away, along with several other gang members. Still, quite a few of them were still out there, and they definitely seemed like the type to hold serious grudges. You were no longer safe at your former home, and now...well, there you where.

Kenny listened intently all the while, not once daring to interrupt, not even to ask a question. By the way your breathing had hitched and your lips had stuttered at certain parts, he could tell how hard that must’ve been for you to go through in the first place, and how unsettling it was for you to revisit those moments in order to share your story with him.

You didn’t notice, but as you were nearing the end, Kenny had inched to sit closer to you, his large hand carefully landing on your shoulder with a soft but warm-hearted squeeze. He had briefly hesitated in making that move, but the need to offer you comfort and reassurance overpowered his nervousness. His only hope was that you wouldn’t flinch at his touch, and so he felt a huge wave of relief wash over him when you did no such thing.

“So...that’s about it. Sorry, I know it’s a fucking bummer story, compared to your weed smuggling adventure.” You attempted a chuckle, only it came out as more of a sad scoff.

Your heart was still pounding and you were still reluctant to look up at him. Although, as you finally noticed Kenny’s warm hand gently squeezing your shoulder, you felt a soothing brush of comfort spread through your limbs, and you couldn’t deny how nice it felt.

“Whoa...that’s...I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” Kenny frowned, unsure of what the right thing to say could be.

“It’s okay, really. I’ve had some time to process it and move on. Well...not completely, but I’d say I’m doing much better now.”

Kenny went silent for a minute, clearly still digesting the information, and the worries you had about him looking at you differently came back in full force. You opened your mouth to ask him about it, but he beat you by a millisecond, speaking first. “Why...why were you so nervous about telling me?”

So he had noticed. Figures. The art of the poker face wasn’t something you’d ever truly mastered. It sometimes annoyed you how easy your anxious state was to spot, but there wasn’t much you could do about that.

“I don’t know, I...I guess I didn’t want you to see me as a snitch or judge me-“

“Judge you?” Kenny interrupted, sounding confused about the mere insinuation. “For what, not sticking up for your friend when she had got herself involved in a murder?”

“I mean, she was still my friend, so...”

“So what? That doesn’t change the fact that she got in the middle of something so horrible, that could’ve been avoided, if she had paid more attention to who she hung around.”

You couldn’t say you had expected that. It was almost weird hearing Kenny talk that way, but you were definitely relieved to hear where he so firmly stood in regards to the whole “judging you” idea.

You bit your bottom lip in agitation as a thought you had been wrestling with for a while creeped its way into your mind again. “Sometimes I feel like maybe I could’ve done something...could’ve checked up on her more or somehow stopped her from hanging out with them...maybe I could’ve kept her from having anything to do with it.” Your voice grew quieter, sounding barely above a whisper as guilt flashed through your eyes, your muscles tensing, uneasily, at the thought. Kenny was immediately closer, his arm wrapping around you, as if trying to shelter you from your own thoughts.

“Come on, don’t do that to yourself, Y/N. You can’t control the actions of others, not even your friends. Least of all your friends, probably.”

You allowed a small smile to touch the corner of your lips as you instinctively leaned into Kenny, his closeness calming you, his soft reassurances shushing the self-deprecating thoughts he could sense looming over you.

“Yeah, you’re right, I guess. I just try not to think about it often, it really sucks diving into that stuff.”

“Of course it sucks. I just hope you know that none of it was even a little bit your fault. From what I can tell after spending some time with you...you’re a really good person, Y/N.”

You looked up at him, noting the way your faces were only a few inches apart by that point. The close proximity brought a rosy tinge to your cheeks. “You think so?”

“I do! Why wouldn’t I? You’re smart, you’re funny when you want to be, you’re great to be around, and heck, you’re one of the very few people I know who doesn’t make me feel like I’m constantly doing something wrong.”

Hearing that made you simultaneously happy and sad. With the way Kenny’s “family” treated him almost around the clock, it was no wonder he felt that way. You wished he didn’t have to. You believed someone as wonderful as him deserved so much better. If only he had at least one person close to him who would tell him how much better he was than most guys out there, how anyone should be lucky to call him a friend... or maybe more than just a friend.

In that moment, you found yourself thinking what it would be like if you were that person. You imagined it would feel the same way it always did when you were around Kenny, only better. In all honesty, you couldn’t find a single reason not to try. What harm was there in trying? Oh, that’s right...something could go badly wrong, and then whatever friendship you had with him would be in shambles.

That’s what the pessimistic side of you thought about it. But the other side, the more hopeful and affectionate side, had other ideas.

Even though you and Kenny were brought into the witness protection program by very different circumstances, you were still in it together. You didn’t have to hide your true identities or your past, at least not from each other. That had to count for something, right?

While you were taking a second to collect your thoughts, Kenny was facing some inner turmoil of his own. With the newfound closeness of the two of you, his cheeks were positively crimson, his pulse quickening, heart thumping against his rib cage. Any doubts he’d had about whether or not he wanted to ask you out had vanished - he absolutely wanted to do that. But how? When? Would now be a good time? He wasn’t sure. Yet, he was very aware of the fact that if he were to lean in just a little bit closer, he could just kiss you right then and there...

Kenny briefly remembered David’s “count to three” method, but for some reason it didn’t feel right to use. Not with you, not like that. All he wanted was to just go with the feeling, and that feeling was beckoning him to your lips.

Oh, screw it. If you were to push him away, so be it. He would probably die a little inside and never attempt to do anything like that ever again, but at least he would know your immediate answer.

“Kenny...?”

Your soft questioning voice reached his ears as his gaze trailed over your delicate face, taking in every feature, and with a soft but resolute breath, he leaned in.

Your eyes went wide when Kenny’s lips landed on yours. You froze for a second, not knowing what to do. Luckily, your instantly skipping heart gave you the hint you needed to flutter your eyes closed and melt into it.

He kissed you so gently, so carefully, but not like he was afraid of scaring you away. More like he wanted you feel completely safe and give you every chance to stop it the second you wanted to.

You didn’t.

Instead, you wrapped an arm around his neck, your fingertips brushing the ends of his short sandy hair, your lips moving seamlessly and warmly against his own.

Kenny couldn’t believe you were actually kissing him back, but damn, he was thrilled that you were. He felt the affection in him surge as the softness of your lips put his mind in a haze. His hand timidly slid down to your waist, bringing you closer to him, and you willingly went, deepening the kiss as you did.

After a few blissful moments you finally broke away from his lips, your noses nearly brushing each other as you looked up at him through glimmering eyes. “I was almost convinced I would have to do that myself...”

Kenny breathed a soft chuckle, not taking his gaze off of yours. “To be honest, so was I...”

You grinned at his burning cheeks, releasing a light chuckle of your own before reconnecting your lips for another kiss, swallowing the muted grunt that rumbled from Kenny’s throat.

Things were going to get better now. For both of you, you were sure of it. Kenny was finally going to have someone who would show him what it’s like to be truly wanted and appreciated, and you were going to have someone who wouldn’t dream of hurting you and who you knew would always do his best to understand you, give you everything he could give.

Maybe this whole witness protection program thing wouldn’t be such a tedious affair, after all.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks again for helping me @gladerscake , you’re the sweetest ❤

#we're the millers #kenny miller #kenny miller x reader #kenny miller imagine

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

figure it out.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: this has been in my wips for literal months as i’ve done my best to get it just right for yall. i hope you enjoy it, and tell me what you think! There’s an addendum to this one, and i’m already working on it, but we’ll see a few more things before that’s ready :)

words: 3.5k warnings: sex mention, sex implication, language

summary: “love is like a backache. it doesn’t show up on an x-ray, but you know it’s there.” - george burns. au!january 2012.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

You roll over in bed when your alarm goes off, but you don’t get very far. Aaron throws an arm over you and pulls you back to him with a grumble.

You huff a laugh and wiggle up against him. It’s all a tease and you both know it - there isn’t any time to get up to anything fun before work, but it’s far too entertaining to rile him up.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” His voice escapes his lips between your shoulder blades and you can feel his smile.

“Oh, trust me, babe. I can finish.”

He hums, his smile breaking out into something real. “I noticed.”

+++

When the two of you finally make it out of bed (surprisingly still on time), you grab one of Aaron’s scarves and a hat on your way out. It’s your turn to drop Jack at school today on your way into the office, and the task serves two purposes.

The first? It’s nice to spend time with Jack, just the two of you, when it’s your turn and you’re not on a case. It’s the same for Aaron, who always leaves a little earlier so he and Jack can sit down somewhere and have breakfast together.

The second is pure logistics. You two can’t show up to work in the same car at the same time, so a convenient excuse to separate and stagger your arrivals is welcome.

“Really?”

Aaron’s question stops you at the threshold and you look over your shoulder “What?”

“My hat? My scarf?”

It’s almost too tempting to cave when he’s looking at you like that - his tie hanging around his neck, shirt untucked, arms crossed, and playful frown hiding a smile.

“Yeah. It’s warm and it’s here and we’re late.”

Jack squints up at you and says, “We’re not late.”

“You’re not late.”

The observations come within split seconds of each other and you laugh.

“Fine. Not late, but warm. And you have more hats.” You scamper back into the house to plant a kiss on his lips, smoothing the hair at his temples.

Jack’s laughter is the underscore to your next quip. “You’re very handsome and I’m sure you’re very smart so you can figure it out.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Jack chirps. “Figure it out.”

He has nothing to say to your retreating forms as he catches a glimpse of your smile through the crack in the closing door.

+++

Emily and Spencer are away at a conference-book-signing thing, so it’s just the five of you and Penelope this morning. You’d normally figure that would be Rossi’s purview, but apparently -

“My book-signing days have been put on hold indefinitely in favor of -”

“ - He’s back.” Garcia interrupts, tossing case files at all of you. The conversation is cut short and you suppress a smile. “The Marin headlands last night.”

You can see Aaron’s lips pull as well.

It’s the little things.

Penelope gestures with the notes and crime scene photos appear on the screen. “David Atley and Nicole Puli, both 24, both grad students at Berkeley, shot multiple times in their vehicle-- wait for it--” She clicks again and a familiar sigil appears.

“The Zodiac?” Morgan’s shock is almost sardonic in its delivery.

Rossi snorts. “No way.”

“Come on,” Derek says, amused, while JJ chimes in as well.

“It's gotta be the 2.0 version.”

While neither of you speak, you share a glance with Aaron. You’re kidding.

He only raises his eyebrows for a split second and shrugs.

There’s some part of you a little paranoid that you’re the most obvious couple to exist in the history of the universe. Sure, the team has been teasing you about your friendship for years, the will-the-won’t-they of it all, but now that it’s real you’re almost terrified that they know everything.

Thus, the overcompensation has been wretched. You and Aaron barely look at each other in the field if you can help it (which you usually can’t) and he tends to put you with Derek more often than not.

In truth, the others have noticed, but are far too interested in the spectacle to say anything. Emily’s almost certain the two of you have slept together, and Dave may or may not have suggested the possibility of a secret marriage during your period of suspension.

However far-fetched and ridiculous their theories, they know you two well enough to know that something happened. The tension is gone.

Derek almost finds himself missing the tension. There hasn’t been much to tease you about lately in its absence.

“Yeah, you would think so, except for the crazy similarities in the MO.” Penelope clicks through the photos as she talks.

“I'm talking same victimology, same geography. And,” she adds. “Two souvenirs were left at the crime scene.” She clicks once more and stands back for the full effect.

“He left a photo?” Rossi asks.

She hums in the affirmative. “Local police say that is Marcia Miller. She was found near Napa in 1971. Strongly suspected that she was a victim of the Zodiac, but police never confirmed it and they didn't publicize the case.”

Morgan’s still squinting at the screen. “So the Zodiac took this photo at the killing and then saved it all these years?”

“The Zodiac's last confirmed victim was the cabdriver Paul Stine,” Dave notes devolving into a conversation about The Zodiac, his timeline, his signature.

It’s nothing new - The Zodiac Killer’s case details are common knowledge in your line of work, nevermind the sheer number of copycats that try their hand at the highly-ritualistic murders before inevitably getting arrested.

There’s a reason this guy hasn’t been caught in forty years.

After a few minutes of bouncing between you all, Hotch pushes back from the table and stands. “Have Reid and Prentiss meet us in San Francisco. Wheels up in 30.”

He heads straight to his office to collect his things and you swing in by the tips of your fingers for just a second. “You wanna call Jess or do you want me to?”

In the middle of throwing files in his briefcase, he doesn’t look up when he answers. “Can you, please? I was supposed to meet with Strauss this afternoon and need to stop by her office before wheels up.”

You smile at him, tapping the door frame twice. “You got it.”

+++

It’s boots on the ground right away when you land in San Francisco. You drive to the crime scene with Aaron in the passenger seat beside you and JJ in the back. The radio’s on, and you sing under your breath, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you make your way up to the crime scene.

Before you get to the local FBI agents, JJ catches you by the sleeve. “It’s nice to have music in the car again.”

You just smile at her. Aaron looks a little puzzled.

The three of you wipe the looks off your faces by the time you get to Agent Lynn.

+++

“What did JJ mean?” Aaron asks you.

The two of you are alone for the time being, posted up in the conference room with the old Zodiac case files. You look up. “Hmm?”

“What did she mean when she mentioned the music earlier?”

“Oh.” A little flush of embarrassment shoots down your gut. “Derek pointed out to me last summer that I didn’t play any music in the car.”

...while you were gone is the thing you don’t say, but he knows that’s what you mean.

“I didn’t really notice.” You shrug to cover your fib. “I guess I’ve reacquainted myself with the radio in the last couple of weeks.”

Aaron hums, returning to his work. Something’s off, but you’re sure it’ll come up later.

+++

“You don’t think it’s really him, do you?” You ask, unbuttoning your shirt and throwing your pajamas on.

Surprisingly, this case seems to be one of those that allows for sleep at regular hours. For that, you’re grateful. It’s much harder to find time to wind down with Aaron at the end of the day when you’re all forced to sleep in shifts.

Aaron shakes his head, “No, I think Reid’s right. We’re looking at a particularly sophisticated copycat.”

“Isn’t that kind of worse?” Hopping up on your bed, you curl up and look at him over your nose - a clear invitation to join you.

With a huff down his nose and a little smile, he flops down beside you and props his chin on his arms over your belly. “Could be. Luckily, we have Reid.”

You almost think he’s going to say something else, but he gets that pensive look on his face again.

“What?”

With a sigh, he says, “I’m just thinking about what JJ said.”

“Oh, Aaron -”

He doesn’t let you finish. It’s probably a good thing. You didn’t know what you wanted to say anyway.

“I knew how hard it was on me, but I’m realizing more and more how hard it was on you, too.” He shakes his head. “I feel ...I don’t know. I feel like I should have known better… or something.”

Winding your fingers in his hair, you sit in silence for a moment. He doesn’t have anything more to say and eventually he crawls up your body and settles in under your arm, his head on your chest and legs wound between yours.

Sometimes, you’ve found, he likes to feel small.

“You’re safe and you’re home. That’s what matters.” You kiss the top of his head. “And I love you.”

He hums, arcing into your touch and wrapping an arm around your waist. “I love you.”

+++

You spend much of the next day chasing Spencer around the city, keeping notes handy (for yourself, not for him - he doesn't need them) and reporting back on his discoveries to the team like some kind of overwrought and hyper-trained secretary.

Stepping off to the side, you answer a call from Aaron.

“Hit your limit yet?”

You look over at Spencer, who’s flipping through a newspaper like a man on a mission. “It’s actually kind of entertaining.”

And that’s actually true. Watching Spencer push the limits of his intelligence is always a treat - it happens so rarely you almost forget how much you enjoy it every time.

He huffs into the phone. “Hang in there. We’ll all meet back at the precinct once Reid’s done -”

“Doing magic?”

“Exactly. Keep me posted.” There’s a pause. It’s an odd little habit you two developed in the field to leave space for the words you can’t say in front of the others.

I love you.

“Me too.”

+++

You’re almost asleep when a sliver of yellow light shoots across your room, promptly disappearing as the door to the hallway closes.

He pads across the room and slips under the covers. “Hi.”

A little smile crosses your face as you roll over to face him. “Hi.”

Before you can say anything else, his hands are on you and he’s half on top of you as he captures your lips.

Needless to say, the lack of sleep is worth it.

+++

Emily, long after she and Aaron are the only ones left in the precinct conference room, squints as she notices something right under his collar.

He’s already loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt, no longer standing on ceremony now that all the local police have retired and the rest of the team gone up to their hotel rooms. There’s not much to do, but the compulsion to get ahead for tomorrow is one neither one of them can shake.

What Aaron failed to remember when executing his wardrobe adjustment was the rather...spirited romp in your room the night prior. The little purple swatches painted on his skin just under the line of his collar stood out stark against the crisp lines of his dress shirt.

Fortunately for you, there was no way in hell the rest of the team would find anything he left on you last night.

Emily reaches into her purse and pulls out a tube of concealer and a powder compact. Though he’s more olive-toned than she is, it’ll be good enough in a pinch. “Hey, Hotch.”

He looks at her over his nose, his eyes tired.

“You might want this for tomorrow morning.” She pushes the crisis control kit across the table to him, but he only frowns and deepens his squint.

By way of explanation, she reaches across the table and presses the tip of her finger into one of the visible bruises in the hollow of his throat. He flinches, freezes, and then immediately drops his head into his hands.

It’s easy to say Emily is amused in the extreme. “Those look...really fresh.”

He shakes his head, insisting as he picks up a file at random, “They’re from before we left.”

It’s only because it’s Emily that he’s even humoring this conversation.

“No they’re not.” She sticks her tongue firmly in her cheek. “These ones are though.” She points at yellowing marks on his collarbone and he smacks her hands away.

“And I know what fresh hickies look like, Hotch. Those are fresh fresh. Like, last night fresh. And we’ve been here for four days.” She frowns, tracking back through the day. “When on earth would you have time to -”

A series of images flash through her head, random wayward connections flashing together in an alarmingly clear picture.

You, avoiding her at the office back in September with quickly-covered marks painted across your neck.

You, flirting with Sean and having way too much fun doing it, looking over his shoulder at ...someone else.

Hotch, in a perpetually good mood (for him, anyway, and despite looking ill-slept) for the last five months.

The way the mistletoe kiss at Dave’s Christmas party looked way too easy, too familiar.

And now, the obvious indicators that Hotch is not only getting it, he’s getting it good.

If he got those last night…

Wait.

Their hotel rooms are right next to …

Oh my God.

Hotch watches the realization flash across Emily’s face, and he knows you’re both busted. Instead of losing her shit like he expected, Emily just leans back in her chair - smug.

“So. Are you still Not the Boyfriend, or has there been an update?”

He sighs.

The corner of her mouth tips up. “How long?”

“For which part? The not-boyfriend part, the boyfriend part, or this part?” He gestures vaguely to the space behind his tie, and Emily snorts.

“Just spill it.”

Holding up a finger, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, dialing the first number on his speed dial.

You’re hardly asleep, sitting up in bed waiting for him with a case file in your lap, when you get the call. You’re not sure who’s listening, so a “Hey, Hotch. What’s up?” will have to do.

“Emily knows.”

You straighten. “How?”

“Doesn’t matter. She knows.”

There’s a scramble, and suddenly Emily’s on the other end of the phone. “He’s got very questionable and very fresh bruises just under his collar. Care to explain?”

There’s another shuffle.

“Ignore her,” Aaron says. With a hand pressed to your forehead, you understand the question implicit in his phone call.

“Just tell her. It’s basically her fault, anyways. If she hadn’t ditched it then we’d have our heads up our asses for another five years.”

“Alright,” then, after a second of realizing you don’t sound sleepy at all, “Go to bed.”

“I’m in bed.”

He rolls his eyes. Emily can only look on with amusement, gleeful in the extreme. “You know that’s not what I mean. Go to sleep.”

“Alright, alright. Fine.” You reluctantly close the casefile and put him on speaker so he can hear the light click off. “I’m going to sleep.” Then, “I love you. Come up soon.”

“Okay.” He shoots a glance at Emily. Because he’ll never hear the end of it anyway, more ammo won’t hurt at this point. “I love you too. Now, really. Go to slee -”

You hang up on him. He double-takes at his phone for a moment before shoving it back in his pocket.

He’s met with Emily’s surprisingly moved eyes. “You’re...okay.”

What she means is, You’re happy.

He knows.

He nods. “I’m okay.”

She puts her files down and leans forward, resting her elbows on the table and lacing her fingers. “Tell me.”

So, he does.

He tells her about the way you stuck to him like glue through the divorce, the way you wiggled your way into Haley’s heart, captured the love of his son, and earned the trust of his entire family.

He tells her what Haley said in the hospital, the tenacious care you showed his unyielding and unwilling ass when he was healing, the way your grief soothed his in the wake of Haley’s loss.

He tells her about the moments of euphoria in the years of want and doubt and fear.

He tells Emily about the day she died, how there was nothing more painful than that necessary lie. He tells her how easy it was to lie to the others, how it ripped him in half to lie to you.

He tells her about the day he left for Pakistan, about the fight the night before, the kiss he pressed to your cheek on the tarmac, the endless, wretched nights missing you in the desert.

He tells her about the fight when he finally came home, skims over the following days, jumps and meanders around to Christmas, to moving in, to the bliss that now seems to follow him wherever he goes.

Emily watches the smile that plays at his mouth when he talks about you, the softness in his eyes as recalls the look on your face and the words you said and the way you are with Jack. There’s a kind of peace in him that she’s never really seen before.

Maybe, she imagines, it was there before she met him (the second time). Maybe this peace existed with Haley. Maybe this is the most she’s ever heard him speak at once. Maybe it makes her smile.

Maybe this peace is what his love looks like.

If that’s the case, she thinks, you are very lucky indeed.

It could have been hours, it could have been minutes, but at some point he stops talking.

“Hotch?”

He looks over at her, the softness lingering in his eyes.

“I’m really happy for you.”

His lips twitch. “Thanks.”

“And you know it’s my God-given right to tell everyone else once this case is over, right?”

+++

You actually are asleep by the time Aaron gets back to the hotel. He leans against the wall in the dark with his hands in his pockets, enjoying the peace before the inevitable shitshow.

He crosses the room and crouches at your side, running the back of his fingers over your cheek. You stir, sleepy noises leaving your throat as your eyes crack open.

“Aaron?”

“Yeah. Just me.”

You smile a little and close your eyes again. “How’d she take it?”

“Remarkably well.” He kisses your forehead. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“No,” you whine, drawn-out and slurred. “Don’t leave. Stay. I set an alarm.”

With a resigned sigh, he strips and slides into bed behind you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you close.

+++

You and Aaron sit on proverbial pins and needles for the rest of the case, but Emily keeps her word. The only indication of her knowledge came the morning after her chat with Aaron, when she pulled you to her and hugged you so tight you could hardly breathe.

She seizes her moment on the plane, about halfway home.

“Derek, you owe me fifty bucks.”

She hardly looks up from her book as she speaks.

He takes off his headphones and wrinkles his brow. “What?”

She repeats herself, slower, as if she was speaking to a child. “You. Owe. Me. Fifty. Bucks.”

“...Why?”

Emily finally looks up from her book to pointedly stare at you and Aaron, seated next to each other and sharing a bag of Goldfish you stole from Jack’s snack drawer. You’re both reading from the same file, absently reaching for crackers as you go along.

Derek’s confusion continues to smother his face until it finally clicks in.

He steals a page from Reid’s notebook and balls it up, tossing it across the plane and breaking your concentration. You look up, only a little startled, to find a face-splitting grin blinding you across the cabin.

Derek’s small ruckus has drawn the attention of the rest of the team - well, all except JJ, who’s fast asleep on the couch.

There seems to be a collective sigh of relief as money exchanges hands. You’re not quite sure what the bet was, but Emily seems to have won handily.

Aaron takes your hand under the table, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

It doesn’t.

Everyone simply returns to their tasks, little smiles on their faces.

+++

tagging: @quillvine @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygrangerwriting @ssaic-jareau @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @arthurmorrgans @the-falling-in-the-danger @softbibxtch @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @kerrswriting @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw @deagibs @crazyshannonigans @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos

#aaron hotchner x reader #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #tali writes fanfiction #tali talks cm #a joyful future

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scotianostra · 3 years

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Happy Birthday Kenneth Campbell “Ken” Stott, born on October 19th 1954 in Edinburgh.

Born in 1955 in Edinburgh he was educated at George Heriot’s School where his father was the Head of the English Department, his mum worked as an Italian literature professor at nearby Edinburgh University. The couple frequently hosted actors, singers, musicians and other creative types as part of their involvement with the Scots Italian Circle, a cultural exchange organization that his dad was president of.

Before leaving Edinburgh Stott had been in a band called Keyhole some of the members of the group would later join the Bay City Rollers.

Ken went on to work with the Royal Shakespeare Company but the pay was poor and he subsidised his earnings by selling double glazing. His first TV role was in Secret Army for the BBC, parts in TV shows throughout his career have included, Taggart (of course) The Singing Detective, London’s Burning, Your Cheatin’ Heart and Silent Witness. He was insome good films too, The Debt Collector (with Billy Connolly) , Shallow Grave, (with Ewen MacGregor) and Plunkett & Macleane (with Robert Carlyle).

My favourite shows of Ken’s have been the brilliant BBC Scotland series, Takin’ Over the Asylum in which starred as Double Glazing salesman, but aspiring disc jockey with David Tennant and Angus Macfadyen,The ITV series The Vice was also a cracking series where he played DI Pat Chappel and The BBC show Messiah, where again he played a cop, DCI Red Metcalfe where he learned sign language for scenes with his screen wife, and Rebus of course, when the show was resurrected in 2006, Stott was a first choice for many as D.I John Rebus, John Hannah had the role in the first incarnation.

On film Ken is probably best known for his role as the Dwarf, Balin in The Hobbit trilogy. He is a popular choice for voice work, as narrator for series such as Trawlermen, a documentary following North Sea trawlers, and Send in the Dogs, following the work of Police Officers and their canine partners. Ken’s last movie was the Netflix film, The Dig, a true story based on an archaeological dig in Suffolk in 1938, it is a charming gentle film and a joy to watch, Stott plays archaeologist Charles Phillips.

One of my favourite stories about Ken Stott echos the no nonsense approach of Rebus, on stage during Arthur Miller’s A View From The Bridge, he halted the play when a group of teenage schoolkids were misbehaving and disturbing the show, switching from his stage American to his native Scots accent he told the teacher responsible for the children to remove them, or the play would not go on. The house lights were switched on and there was then a 15-minute stand-off as discussions took place with the offending youngsters.

The audience took the side of Stott and even resorted to chanting ‘out, out, out’ in extraordinary scenes. Eventually the three culprits and an embarrassed teacher was forced to creep away before the play resumed at the Duke of York’s Theatre.

I look forward to seeing Ken Stott, in the Scottish police drama, Crime, along with fellow Scots’ Joanna Vanderham, Dougray Scott, Allison McKenzie, and the excellent Jamie Sives from the BBC series Guilt. Look out for some great shots of my home town of Edinburgh during the 6 part series.

Ken disagrees with comments made by Ian Rankin about his Detective Rebus. The author said Rebus would have voted no in the Independence referendum in 2014, but Stott, a supporter of Independence disagrees pointing out Rebus’ ancestral roots instead made him a natural yes voter, saying;

“Let’s look briefly at just one aspect: [Rankin’s] creation was the grandson of a Polish immigrant, therefore I suspect Rebus would be well aware of the humiliation and degradation suffered by so many immigrants at the hands of the Home Office then and now. This may, in turn, lead him to ‘think carefully’ before voting and to consider how his grandfather might have fared in the ‘hostile environment’ of a pre/post Brexit UK,”

#Scotland #scottish #actor #independence supporter #happy birhtday

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emiel-surreal · 2 years

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my fandoms + likes

I kinda infodump about everything I like and why.

It's a wall of text, so I'll uh--

The Witcher - I hyperfixated on this fandom for a good while, and it was the first time I read and enjoyed reading outside of school. I only haven't finished the second video game, but I don't mind spoilers. I borrow my name from Emiel Regis--maybe one day I'll write about why I love him. I also wrote a poem about Yennefer one night; maybe I can post that one day.

Red Dead Redemption - My current fixation, sorta. I haven't played the first game, although I know more or less what happens. I love playing online, but haven't in a while because my console is in another country and I don't like playing pc much. I haven't indulged in this fandom in a while but I always enjoy reading about or watching videos about it. The Modded Wacky West video is my favorite video to watch over and over. I also love cowboy stuff in general. Kinda aspiring to become a cowboy myself. More on that another time..

I like DC more than Marvel, oops. - some of my favorite characters are The Flash, especially Ezra Miller's and the movie Flashpoint Paradox; Superman, especially Tom Welling's and Superman: Red Son; basically all depictions of Batman but especially Christian Bale's and Robert Pattinson's. I don't dislike Marvel, I just don't get as excited about it most of the time. BUT I LOVE SPIDERMAN I played the hell out of that game.

Ernest Hemingway - I really love his writing, although I fear I'm not qualified to make that declaration because I've only read two of his novels and a few of his short stories. But I loved them all so!! I also love reading about him. I read the novel "Z" by Therese Ann Fowler and the characterization was so interesting. Very good book, definitely recommend. Anyway the two novels of his that I have read so far are The Sun Also Rises and A Farewell To Arms. They both ignited unique passions in me. I think I have a thing for morally reprehensible artists, because I love films by

Woody Allen - I've only watched two of his movies but I loved them both. Whatever Works is actually my favorite movie. I love Larry David and Evan Rachel Wood and Henry Cavill, and the desperate philosophies of Boris Yelnikoff. The other movie of his that I've watched is Midnight in Paris. Both films bring me great comfort.

I also like studying moral philosophy in my free time. Earlier this year I rewatched The Good Place, and then read How To Be Perfect, both by Michael Schur. I promise I've done more reading than just that book, but it is an honorable mention. I love love nihilism.

Language is a special interest of mine, although I am basically monolingual. I'm learning Spanish currently. I've wanted to create a language for a while but I think it's best if I focus my attention on learning this one language, for survival. Once I'm comfortable with my Spanish skills, I might pick up ASL again. I love reading about language and pondering how it interacts with culture.

In middle school I had a special interest in psychology, which has since evolved into a special interest in philosophy. I think this was a survival thing, since I was an undiagnosed autistic and needed something to help me navigate a world of confusion that I only just realized was not compatible with me. (Before then, I was more or less oblivious to mistreatment and unfairness. I was not incredibly observant as a child.)

I am atheist, but I like to study the Bible occasionally. I like Biblical references in literature, sometimes, and I like to read about non-canon books (I hope that's the right way to describe them). I planned to read The Gnostic Gospels by Elaine Pagels but I left the book at home and I am currently out of the country, lol. I like watching The Atheist Experience, but haven't done so in a few weeks because I tend not to spend a lot of time online while I'm here. I was never religious, although I did "believe in God" until I was 10 (my dad told me God was fake right after telling me Santa was fake, and it wasn't really a big deal to me then. I just believed him and continued painting.), but I still think I am deconstructing, like I have to be proactive against the many ways Christianity and religion influence my ideology.

I'm currently reading East of Eden, by John Steinbeck! I love it so much! I absolutely plan to post about it when I finish. I take notes for each chapter while I read, which I think is super fun, and also helps because I never had great reading comprehension (partly why I hated reading for school).

I'm also reading, for the fourth time, The Wayhaven Chronicles, by Mishka Jenkins. I don't exactly create OCs for each playthrough. Actually, the first time I play anything, I kinda just go with my gut feeling, so the played character takes after me, intuitively. Each playthrough after that, I've adopted the persona of an existing character. For me, it's easier to tell them apart this way, because the personality is "in the name" if that makes sense? So all the characters I've played as, so far, are taken from the Witcher. So far: Cirilla, Phillipa, and Dandelion/Jaskier.

Anyway I would love to make friends with anyone even if we don't have any fandoms or things in common!!

I think this post is long enough now..! So I'll wrap it up here. Thanks if you actually read all of this?! I hope I'm not breaking any rules :S

#about this blog #blog intro #intro post #introduction

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fyrapartnersearch · 3 years

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Seeking Literate Partners!

Disclaimer: Male authors, please stop contacting me. I've been burned too many times. If you persist, I'll ignore your message. Hello, you can call me Doe! I'm 25+ and a proud cat mom. I write multiple paragraphs/novella style (200-500+ words). I love to write detailed descriptions and delve into a character’s head/emotions as well as surroundings. I compare it to writing a novel together. I understand if the scene doesn’t have alot going on and therefore requires less like rapid fire. I adore having long, thoughtful replies where we truly immerse ourselves in the world. I'm hoping to find a partner whose as enthusiastic and passionate about the plot and writing as I am. When I get invested in a story, it’s 100% dedication. Getting a reply is the highlight of my day. I'm a big fan of romance and using face claims. I’m the type to make pinterest boards, spam you with gifs, headcanons, and send you songs that remind me of our characters and/or ship. I'll get excited if we come up with future plot ideas, or if our characters are being cute or angsty and I can yell about it in the chat. Last but not least I only do MxF (with myself in the female role) and don’t double, but I’m more than happy to write side characters of either gender to help move the story along. I'd highly prefer female authors writing male characters. Searching For - 21+ partners - For you to have an excellent grasp of grammar, punctuation, spelling, and capitalization. Both in character and out of character. (Literate to advanced writers only, please. I'm not looking for newbies or those who have English as their second/third language). - Plot before smut. While mature themes will be in my plots, and are even encouraged, there needs to be chemistry between our characters. I like to have a good mix of plot and tastefully written smut, along with doses of angst and fluff. - For you to write as an older man (40s+/50s+). I'm a sucker for the gruff and tough men with dark pasts who secretly have a soft heart. I also love those grumpy, hypermasculine men being intimidated by soft yet commanding women. The youngest I write is early 20s. - Please be enthusiastic and invested when it comes to plotting/worldbuilding. There’s nothing worse than receiving one sentence in reply to two paragraphs of ideas, or having a doormat partner who says “sure” to whatever I ask. Tossing ideas back and forth, watching them snowball into amazing plot threads brings me joy. - Joining me in the wonderful world of ship/character development is kind of a must. It’s one of the things that makes writing with a partner so much fun. I also like to make friends with my partners! - While I'd prefer real life face claims, I'd also be open to using realistic art if you're uncomfortable with real life. I draw the line at anime/cartoon art. Faces I'd love to write as: gal gadot, rooney mara, ruth negga, saoirse ronan, sophie turner, jessica chastain, jennifer morrison, mia wasikowska, natalia dyer, brit marling, deborah ann woll, mackenzie davis, emmy rossum, adria adjora, chyler leigh, hayley bennet, tashi rodriguez, lily james, cara delevingne, maya hawke, katheryn winnick, elizabeth olsen, abigal cowen, sophia lillis lauren cohan, zoey deutsch, paulina singer, crystal reed, hayley lu richardson, ask about others Faces I'd love to write against: jeffery dean morgan, hugh jackman, robert taylor, jr bourne, jon bernthal, jason issacs, anthony varrecchiah, brett tucker, david harbour, frank grillo, iain glen, josh duhamel, patrick petitjean, ethan hawke, christian bale, rory mccann, younger sam elliot, titus welliver, viggo mortensen, joel miller (illustrated face), ask about others If you've made it this far, thank you! You won't be disappointed in writing with me. I tend to be online daily and while I'd like it if you were too, I understand that real life things comes first. Let me know if you're going to be inactive/can’t continue. If you suddenly stop replying ic and ooc, I'll drop the story after 2 attempts of gauging continued interest spaced a week apart. Below are genres and pairings I love. Feel free to combine as many as you'd like and I’m sure we can come up with something great! Current cravings are in bold. Two thing I don't do are slice of life and historical plots. Genres: - crimes in remote locations - spooky small towns - post apocalyptic/dystopia - supernatural/modern fantasy (A/B/O, werewolves, shapeshifters, alpha x rival pack alpha's child, werewolf x shifter, alpha x new werewolf, involuntary mate-bond, mating/claiming) - southern/mid western gothic - murder mystery (small town or big city) - modern/dark fairy tale retellings - sci-fi - cyberpunk/retro-futuristic - little coastal towns or little towns in the mountains - emotionally charged/dark and gritty - superpowers/gifted - unresolved sexual tension/slow burn - redemption - pacific northwest - suburban gothic - luring to the other side - reincarnation/multiple universes - western inspired + modern day (such as longmire) - christmas inspired - culture clash/two characters from different sides Pairings: - age gaps (older man x younger woman / 15 to 25+ year gap) - enemies to lovers/villain x heroine - cop x criminal - doctor x patient - friends turned lovers/pining - grumpy x sunshine - the broken man x the woman that becomes his light - fbi agents/cop partners - dark hearted man melting for the innocent woman - friend x best friend’s older sibling - boss x employee - neighbors - single father x friend - firefighter/cop x victim - mentor x mentee - hurt/comfort - height differences - pet names (sweetheart, baby girl, kid, kiddo) - lady and the tramp esque/class difference - creature x human/creature - ex-con x anyone - bodyguard x assignment - widow/er falling in love again - biker x civilian - rancher/mountain man x city girl - affair (with so's sibling, with so's friend, with neighbor) - hitman x target - serial killer x fbi agent - soul mates - experienced x inexperienced - local x vacationer - injured/scarred warrior washed out from their former glory x royal/heir-to-be (modern day / Sansa x Sandor inspired) - friend x best friend/boyfriend's father - daughter in law x father in law - park ranger x camper - bounty hunter x bounty - power imbalances Tropes/Themes: the papa wolf/hot dads, cultured badass, jerk with a heart of gold. ladykiller in love, mountain man, mysterious protector, southern gentleman, tall, dark, and handsome, knight in sour armor, red string of fate, villain takes an interest, porcelain to ivory to steel, when person a gets injured/kidnapped and person b goes absolutely feral to save them, cowboys tiny women and big men, the monster being treated gently for the first time in his life, two characters forced into positions where they have no choice but to reconcile their differences and grow together/trust each other, forbidden relationships, trying to escape childhood demons & reuniting in adulthood Fandoms: (I don't write canons or do canon x oc) Star Wars, X Files, Haven, Fringe, Stranger Things, Heroes, The Wolf Among Us, Mercy Thompson Series, True Blood, Marvel, The OA, Disney personified, His Dark Materials, Beastars, Horizon Zero Dawn, The Last of Us, Cyberpunk 2077 Plot Ideas: I have too many to list here but take a look at my google doc and let me know if anything catches your attention. It's a mix of fandom inspired and original plots: Plot Ideas Last but not least, I have a list of kinks if anyone's interested. I use email and discord to write. I'd also be open to joining a jcink site! Contact me at Doe#3347 on discord or by email: [email protected] Please be detailed when you message me, let me know why you chose to contact me. Seeing only "hey do you wanna rp?" is a guaranteed way to turn me off. Look forward to hearing from you!

#oc rp #multiple paragraph #long term #literate #action #adventure #drama angst #fandom #fantasy #horror #modern #original #post apocalyptic #romance #scifi #supernatural

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rfamess · 4 years

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This cured my boredom for a little bit. Was making a few new music playlists and thought.. hmm. I wonder what kind of music the RFA listens to? So, I made this. For no reason at all.

What Kind of Music the RFA + V/Saeran Listen To:

Saeyoung/707:

- (I always see people writing that he’d listen to all star or other cringe meme songs because that’s what seems to be his entire personality, but I like to think he has more substance than that and listens to songs that don’t have to do with memes.)

- He definitely listens to rap/hip-hop.

- Can you not imagine him driving down the road in his cars, windows down, music blasting?

- He listens to his music uber loud in his headphones while working.

- His favorite artist is probably Tyler the creator, i mean, how could you not love him.

- Listens to Mac Miller when he’s sad :(

PLAYLIST:

Who Dat Boy - Tyler the Creator

Stutter - Freddie Dredd

Evil Fantasy - Freddie Dredd

Sweatpants - Childish Gambino

Bounce - Logic

Dead Wrong - Notorious B.I.G.

Movement - Oliver Tree

Stick to Your Guns - Watsky

Both - Gucci Mane

No Sleep Till Brooklyn - Beastie Boys

Can I Kick It - A Tribe Called Quest

No Limit - G Easy

Circles - Mac Miller

Broke Bitch - TMG (lol)

Bonfire - Childish Gambino

I THINK - Tyler the Creator

Good News - Mac Miller

I - Kendrick Lamar

FACE - Brockhampton

King Kunta - Kendrick Lamar

Lovely Things Suite: Knots - Watsky

Zen:

- (Similar to Saeyoung, I don’t believe Zens entire personality revolves around musicals, he probably doesn’t listen to them that often imo.)

- I like to think he’s a... well rounded individual when it comes to music

- Listens to anything and everything.

- I could see him listening to the same music as Seven, but is also very into 70s-90s rock like the Red Hot Chili Peppers and the like.

- He runs listening to all of his music on shuffle and doesn’t have a specific playlist so there’s never a certain vibe to it— it really is all over the place.

- In addition to Seven’s playlist, here’s Zen’s

PLAYLIST:

Funny Face - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Santeria - Sublime

Badfish - Sublime

The Luck You Got - The High Strung

Dedicated to the One I Love - The Mamas and the Papas

Heart of Glass - Blondie

Come as You Are - Nirvana

Brown Eyed Girl - Van Morrison

Machu Picchu - The Strokes

Dirty Harry - Gorillaz

Love of Your Life - Red Hot Chili Peppers

The Adults Are Talking - The Strokes

Bailee - The Licks

Where is my Mind - Pixies

Hurt Like Mine - The Black Keys

Gap - The Kooks

Give it Away - Red Hot Chili Peppers

Take Me Out - Franz Ferdinand

Hoops - The Rubens

Conquest - The White Stripes

Ten Cent Pistol - The Black Keys

Yoosung:

- Yoosung likes more upbeat music, maybe more new age/alternative pop

- Listens to music every time he tries to study, but usually get distracted by it and starts to sing along instead of actually doing his work

- Is probably trying to branch out of his style, Seven and Zen try to convince him to listen to their favorite genres

- The three of them always argue about who has the best taste in music lol

- He’s constantly wondering if his music is “manly” enough (it’s okay yoosung it’s just music)

- If this dude gets drunk and hears any of this music he goes absolutely wild and dances all over the place

PLAYLIST:

Bambi - Hippocampus

Turn - the Wombats

Paris - Magic Man

Chronic Sunshine - Cosmo Pike

Death of a Bachelor - Panic! At the Disco

Silvertongue - Young the Giant

Brazil - Declan McKenna

Unbelievers - Vampire Weekend

Baseball - Hippocampus

Australia - The Shins

Prune, You Talk Funny - Gus Dapperton

Honeypie - JAWNY

Alien Boy - Oliver Tree

Satellite - Guster

So Young - Portugal. The Man

Blinding Lights - The Weeknd

Circles - Post Malone

Unbearably White - Vampire Weekend

Tiny Umbrella - Coast Modern

Way it Goes - Hippocampus

Electric Feel - MGMT

Jumin:

- this guy has 2 modes and that’s it: classical bitch or music that has words

- He appreciates the fine art of classical music and listens to it when he has work to get done or when he’s trying to relax.

- If he’s in a good mood he’ll put on a playlist that includes “music with actual lyrics!”

- It’s a dad playlist. Billy Joel, Billy Joel, Billy Joel, Elton John, The Beatles, Billy Joel.

- He likes Billy Joel. Jumin has a dad personality you can’t convince me otherwise lol

- He tried to branch out but can get very picky in his interests. “I don’t like this guitar riff— change it”

- Either way his 2 modes are apparent in his playlists

PLAYLIST:

Dreams - Fleetwood Mac

California Dreamin’ - The Mamas and the Papas

Don’t Ask Me Why - Billy Joel

Starman - David Bowie

Miss You - The Rolling Stones

Dancing in the Moonlight - King Harvest

Come and Get Your Love - Redbone

It’s Too Late - Carole King

Movin’ Out - Billy Joel

A Horse With No Name - America

I Want to Hold Your Hand - The Beatles

Honky Cat - Elton John

Vienna - Billy Joel

The Stranger - Billy Joel

Waltz in A Minor - Chopin

Hungarian Dance No. 5 in G Minor - Brahms

Waltz No. 7 in C Sharp Minor, Op. 64, No. 2 - Chopin

Souvenir de Paganini - Chopin

Solfeggietto in C Minor - Bach

Prelude in B Minor, Op. 32, No. 10 - Rachmaninoff

IV. Allegro Molto From Quartet - Yo-Yo Ma

La Fille Aux Cheveux de Lin - Debussy

Porz Goret - Yann Tiersen

Carnival of the Animals: VII. Aquarium - Camille Saint-Saëns

Carnival of the Animals: XIII. The Swan - Camille Saint-Saëns

Jaehee:

- We all know her obsession with Musicals (specifically zens)

- Other than this she listens to...well honestly I don’t know

- Her music doubles as something she can get hyped up with and something she can listen to to relax.

- She loves to dance, so a lot of her songs and just songs that she’ll never be able to refuse to move her feet to!

- She likes the old classics and then she likes Doja Cat. Lizzo? Queen.

- She’s a barb let’s be real please. you can never convince me that she’s not

PLAYLIST:

Adore You - Harry Styles

She - Harry Styles

Call Me - Blondie

Starships - Nicki Minaj

Hey Mickey - Toni Basil

Juice - Lizzo

Say So - Doja Cat

Voulez-Vous - ABBA

Waterloo - ABBA

Cuz I Love You - Lizzo

Killing Me Softly With His Song - Roberta Flack (LOL the memories associated with this song after Killing Stalking..... hahahaha BUT ITS STILL A GREAT SONG!)

Only - Nicki Minaj

Boss Bitch - Doja Cat

Go Your Own Way - Fleetwood Mac

Beez in the Trap - Nicki Minaj

Woman - Harry Styles

9 to 5 - Dolly Parton

Blame it on the Boogie - Michael Jackson

One Way or Another - Blondie

Tia Tamera - Doja Cat

Truth Hurts - Lizzo

- indie boy indie boy indie boy indie boy

- Cmon just look at him he’s an indie boy

- If you’ve ever met a film student that gatekeeps music, they have the same exact taste but V won’t say shit to make you feel stupid. It’s just music bruv

- If you’ve ever been to an indie concert you know the fuckin dance you know what I’m talking about. he does that.

- Rolls a joint, pops the music off and he paints, does photography, whatever. Either way he straight vibes every single time the tunes come on.

- Low key thinks he has the best music taste. that’s just how dem indie kids roll let’s be real here.

- For some reason knows everything about every type of music. will spew facts about artists and songs at random

PLAYLIST:

Shuggie - Foxygen

Necessary Evil - Unknown Mortal Orchestra

Homage - Mild High Club

Another One - Mac DeMarco

Plants - Crumb

What Once Was - Her’s

Heart and My Car - Summer Salt

Cottage Roads - The Walters

Moonlight on the River - Mac DeMarco

Work This Time - King Gizzard and the Lizard Wizard

Like Yesterday - Paul Cherry

Call it Fate, Call it Karma - The Strokes

Knowhere - Nick DeLaurentis

Escargot Blues - Guantánamo Bay Surf Club

A Side / B Side - Tipling Rock

Dark Red - Steve Lacy

That I Miss You - Vansire

Top Tier Love - Lonely Benson

Driving to Hawaii - Summer Salt

Taking Up Space - Mustard Service

She’s the Only One - King Guru

Saeran:

- emo boy emo boy emo boy

- We all know it

- As much as I’d love to say he listens to heavy death metal, there’s a part of my mind saying NO he’s not like that.

- Well he is, but he’s got more than a few single interest

- Probably listens to Nirvana, Cage the Elephant, anything similar

- Is always trying to listen to new music

- Kind of sick of Seven blasting his music all the time and listens to the opposite of hip hop whenever possible

- Honestly enjoys all types of music, but sticks to his favorites

PLAYLIST:

- All Apologies - Nirvana

- Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene - Hozier

- Soma - The Strokes

- Black Madonna - Cage the Elephant

- Hysteria - Muse

- Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High - Arctic Monkeys

- I Got Mine - The Black Keys

- Supermassive Black Hole - Muse

- Under the Bridge - Red Hot Chili Peppers

- Back Against the Wall - Cage the Elephant

- Creep - Radiohead

- Heart Shaped Box - Nirvana

- Demon Days - Gorillaz

- Bulls on Parade - Rage Against The Machine

- Matador - The Buttertones

- Holiday - Green Day

- RIP - The Licks

- London Calling - The Clash

- Loser - Beck

- What I Got - Sublime

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stardancerluv · 4 years

Text

Being a Good Friend

Part Twenty Two

Summary: Alex and reader’s life after Scotland.

Note: Broke some major canon with this...but left it open for more. Please don’t kill/hate me!

6 Months Later

The sun was brilliant in the clear blue sky; under the blanket the sand felt warm. You sighed happily as you looked down at Alex, he had dozed off contently beside you. It was a beautiful day in paradise.

As you looked down at the gentlness of his sleep filled face, you could still remember your last night in his flat.

*****

Alex had lingered on the window seat that final night the two of you spent there. A lingering melancholy tried to grasp onto him. It was time to say goodbye to the ghosts of friendships that blossomed and came to an end in that flat.

It had been a cool, rainy night. With only the sofa remaining, the two of you cuddled and dozed waking in time to watch the dawn a final time before taking a cab to the airport.

That morning, was when the two of you got to start a new life. In order to explain all the money you both sold anything that wasn’t terribly crucial for your new lives. It had been rough but was a good idea considering Alex had still managed to squirrel away quite a bit from that man Hugo’s suitcase.

A final touch in beginning a new life, Alex did something drastic. He trimmed the lion’s mane of his hair. With tears prickling your eyes, you ran your fingers through it a final time. Alex, did promise that once he got a better feel of where you and him had had settled in Brazil, he would grow it back.

The two of you had settled into a wonderful complex that was not far from the beach. You two could walk their whenever you wanted. Alex and you enjoyed that very much. Being in this paradise compared to cold, rainy Edinburgh it was like living in a dream.

You considered yourself lucky that the complex, you moved in had been great! They welcomed the two of you warmly, dishes and blankets were a plenty. Tonight Alex and you had been invited to a lantern festival you were beyond thrilled.

*****

The gentle scent of the ocean and suntan-lotion tickled his nose. Blinking, he looked up to find you reading. You face was gently focused, as you hair.

With a smirk curling his lips, “Does it mention anywhere in their that the mum and dad turn into zombies?”

You smiled at the suddenness of his voice. Putting the book aside you smiled down at him. “Hi sleepy head.”

He met your eyes, “Hi love.” He purred. Turning to look at your gently growing tummy, he smiled. “Hi baby.”

You giggled. “They moved, at this time they know when daddy and mommy talk to them.”

He chuckled. “Well then,” He cleared his throat. “Be good to your mum. Tonight, we’re going to a special ceremony.” Moving just so, he pressed a kiss to the side of your tummy.

“You told them.”

“That’s what my job is!” He chuckled.

Sitting up, Alex rested on his elbows and looked out at it all. Finally things were looking up. You and him had left with little to no fuss.

It had taken some time but he finally found a paper he could work at. At the moment, he was just happy at the idea of you being there waiting for him. You wouldn’t have to look for a job just yet.

He liked the idea that he was taking care of you and the baby. That really had come as kind of surprise. That baby had been tough, going through those last violent moments with David and the trail. He pressed his lips together, Alex was relieved it was over.

*****

Later that night as he lounged on the bed and watched you silently chose a flower from a bouquet he had surprised you with earlier. He watched as you effortlessly slipped into a dress he felt was as lovely as you.

“My lovely girl.” He smiled as you jumped a little.

“How did I not see you there as I walked out of the bathroom?”

He chuckled. “Because I am just that good.” Smiling he drew you close. “Excited for tonight?”

You nodded. “I am. I’ve always thought these kind of things were so wonderfully special and I am excited that we can go to one.”

“Me too.”

As the two of you walked down to the beach, he reached out and interlaced your fingers. He was thrilled that you and him had been invited to the lantern festival.

He made sure to grab one of the bigger lanterns. You and him were unstoppable. Anything was possible for the two of you, well actually the three of you now.

Catching your eye, loving how yours twinkled. “Make a wish.”

“I will.”

Soon the two of you together then released it. He held you close so together you could both watch as your lantern joined the others and floated to unbelievable heights.

Later, that night cuddled close to him you fell asleep watching a Portuguese game show. Alex, turned it down for a moment as he looked down at you in their otherwise silent flat.

His eyes drifted over your features, slowly down all the curves that made up you till he reached your growing tummy. He had always been revolted by the idea of kids. They irritated the fuck out of him. Nothing about them was appealing. They were loud, messy and demanding. Yet, when you told him, something came over him.

Perhaps it was you, perhaps it was knowing that you and him made that little thing. Yet what really pulled in him was the fact this little baby had survived that entire episode where David had lost his mind and almost killed him. A determination came over Alex, he wanted to take care of it and make sure it had a good dad in him. He pressed a kiss on your tummy.

“You got me for life, kid. He whispered. Turning back to the tv turned the volume up, he was eager to find out who won.

“We interrupt this broadcast to share some startling news.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” He whispered, he was annoyed but switching the channel he noticed it everywhere.

He finally settled on the English news, maybe if it was that important he better watch.

“Famous globetrotting criminal Juliet Miller has broken out of jail with the help of her lover Rose.”

“Oh fuck.” Alex carefully sat up straighter in bed as he felt as if someone poured ice cold water down his back as his attention was fixed on the television.

“It is believed that she is out there looking for the 2 million in pound sterling, she insisted during the trail that she didn’t have. Or maybe she just wanted to be reunited with her lover.”

The fellow newscaster broke into her male counterparts monologue. “Roberto, just maybe she is out there searching the globe for the roommate, she felt wronged her. Former reporter, for the Glasgow Times Alex Law.”

They showed a picture of him.

“Fuck.” He mumbled, more then ever was he glad that he had cut of his hair short.

His phone buzzed and the message read.

Boss: Law. Story from Scotland. Come in a few hours to cover in detail. Best to Y/N.

With his stomach rumbling he replied.

To Boss: E Claro. (Of course)

He was sick with unease, as he glanced down at you still sleeping. Snapping off the tv, he held you closer and kissed your temple. It would be ok, it had to be.

******

A few hours later, having barely slept Alex ventured to the corner store where had managed to find his favorite brand of cigarettes and a bottle of whiskey.

Talk about old habits dying hard, he thought bitterly. They certainly were back. How was he going to tell you.

Once back at the flat on the balcony, he twisted the cap off and took a large gulp. He was on his second cigarette while pacing back and forth; when you woke up and found him on the balcony. How would he tell you?

*****

Yawning, and stretching under your light cotton robe, a concerned look was over your still sleep cloaked face. “Alex, what’s the matter?” As you began to make your way over to him.

He stubbed out the cigarette, exhaled skyward before coming over to you. “You should sit down.” He gripped your hands.

“Alex.” You wiggled. “You’re grip is hurting me.”

That woke him up. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

Sitting beside you on the sofa, he wavered a little realizing how the whiskey had hit him on an empty stomach. He centered himself the best he could.

“Alex,” You drew his face over so you could look at him. “You’re worrying me. What's the matter?”

Taking your hand he kissed your palm, exhaling he got his nerve.

“Juliet escaped.”

@mac-n-cheesie @dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @rentskenobi @brookisbi @johallzy @darling-i-read-it @professionalclown @chogisss @calcifvr @i-love-scott-mccall @stardust-and-starlight @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @unfilteredmoonchild @sithonis @xbrex

#femi!reader #ewan mcgregor #ewan mcgregor imagine #ewan mcgregor pov #ewan mcgregor fluff #ewan mcgregor angst #alex law #alex law angst #alex law fluff #alex law imagine #alex law x y/n #alex law x you #alex law x reader #shallow grave #shallow grave fanfiction #being a good friend #part 22

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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 3 years

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Teen Witch

Controversial opinion: stories about witches are the best stories. Just look at WandaVision - bitches ate that UP because it’s about WITCHES, which means it’s ultimately about loss and trauma and female (literal) empowerment in the face of those tragedies (and I mean there’s some complicated stuff in there about inflicting trauma upon others, even accidentally, and that’s kind of a witch thing too). And Sabrina is all well and good and everything, but what if you want your witch story to be a little less Dark Arts and a little more candy-coated? Have I got the film for you! Wes requested Teen Witch as part of his quest to expand my cheesy 80s cult classic knowledge, and boy did this one deliver. How 80s-tastic are we talking? Well...

The basic story is this: Louise (Robyn Lively) is a typical teen girl who occupies the nerd level of the high school hierarchy. You know the type - soft-spoken, nerdy best friend, has a crush on the cutest guy in school (Dan Gauthier), made fun of in gym class by all the cheerleaders. One day she crashes her bike in front of a psychic’s home/place of business and goes inside to use the phone, but gets her palm read first. The psychic, named Madame Serena, (Zelda Rubenstein, playing, I’m assuming, herself) tells her she will soon come into some witchy powers on her 16th birthday. When Louise’s birthday rolls around, you guessed it - witching aplenty. She gets the popularity, she gets the cute guy, she ditches her nerdy friend; it’s basically The Princess Diaries without Queen Julie Andrews. But then, y’know, she learns a valuable lesson about the high price of popularity and how important it is to be true to yourse--wait, no she doesn’t, she takes off her magic necklace and smooches with the boy she likes at the school dance and that’s how it ends.

Some thoughts:

This slow motion credit sequence is incredible. See, we just don’t have this anymore, where the movie starts and you have no fucking idea what’s going on. The 80s really knew how to draw an audience in. Is this a dream? Is this a music video? No one knows! That’s why it’s exciting!

Why are tv and movies so obsessed with a completely made-up depiction of what takes place outside a high school’s entrance before the first bell? Apparently there’s a busker festival going on at this high school every day - there’s guys doing BMX tricks, an all white rap group, I think I saw some jugglers.

I’ve actually taught in both middle and high school, so I know this English teacher (Shelley Berman) wouldn’t be fired for being such a shitty teacher, but he should be.

Is this like...a musical? First there was the terrible rapping, now there are cheerleaders doing “the new cheer” which is literally a song just saying “I...LIKE...BOYS!” and there’s a dance routine on top of lockers - there’s a lot of towel choreography. It feels like a musical in the sense that it’s nonsensical, but I don’t actually think it IS a musical. Genre-defying!

It’s kinda creepy that Louise is watching an extended montage of Brad (Gauthier) working out shirtless from the shadows but like...same, girl. Damn, Brad.

Aw, at least Brad is reasonably nice. Louise, show some backbone! You shouldn’t have been too proud to let him drive you home after he ran you off the road on your bike accidentally!

I am just mystified by the market for roles that were appropriate for Zelda Rubenstein in the 80s. What is this niche? Which came first, Zelda Rubenstein, or these characters?

I am also mystified by this gremliny little brother (Joshua John Miller) who seems to be obsessed with eating cake and never washing his hair. He’s like a goblin trapped in a diminutive nonbinary body made of pizza and spite. [ETA: I now feel a little bad for finding him so repellent in this, as the actor wrote one of my favorite meta horror movies, The Final Girls, in 2015. So at least he grew up and made something cool of himself.]

OMFG did Brad just hit the soda machine for her like the fucking Fonz?

There is (temporarily) a Very Good Dog who is not harmed in any way.

In what universe does Louise see what her date, David (Jared Chandler), is wearing and be like “he’s such a geek” when she looks like an extra from Leave it to Beaver.

The DJ just said “OK guys, grab your wallets, it’s a slow song.” What...does that even mean? Is he implying that slow dances are expensive? Ooh or even more nefarious, that there’s a rampant pickpocketing problem during slow dances?

Did Louise...just imply that the number of light years away a star is dictates how soon a wish you make on that star would come true? Listen. I’m no astrophysicist. But I have read enough Neil Degrasse Tyson tweets to know that that’s not how any of this works.

OK I take back what I said, David is a fucking CREEP. Drag his ass, Louise. However, I think she may have straight up murdered him by making him disappear. David is never seen or heard from again in this film.

Obsessed with the dad’s sweaters both because they are ridiculous and because he is the lesser Darren from the original Bewitched.

It feels weird that Louise’s revenge involves forcing Mr. Weaver to take his clothes off in front of the class.Who wants that? Like I get that it’s humiliating for him, but really, you’re only punishing yourself here Louise.

There is a rap-off that is meant to convey electric sexual tension between two nerdy ass white kids.

I don’t know what it was like at your school, but I can tell you for sure that at my high school no one ever applauded when the most popular girl in school walked into the classroom like she’s Kramer making an entrance on Seinfeld.

Why is Brad taking her to an abandoned house in the middle of nowhere? And why is she wearing heels?

Oh god she took the heels off and now she’s barefoot in this decrepit house, that’s so much worse! TETANUS EXISTS LOUISE.

Wait are they going to fuck in the abandoned house? Brad has a girlfriend! You brought heels, but did you bring condoms?? I guess she has bigger concerns than tetanus now. Also I feel so bad for these actors, they are both DRIPPING sweat. That must have been a miserable shoot.

I’ve said this before, but the 80s were such an incredible time for himbo fashion. Crop tops, those tank tops with the giant holes for the arms, teeny little basketball shorts. In the 90s all we had were JNCOs and weirdly “urbanized” Looney Tunes characters on baggy t-shirts. Gen X has no idea how good they had it re: male fashion.

I’m genuinely obsessed with the idea that popularity means the school just has banners all over that say “LOUISE” and she gets like, cards and fan mail that say “Louise U R the best.” This feels like if you ask a kindergartner what being popular means.

Madame Serena just said “the real magic is believing in yourself” which is exactly what Louise’s dad said like 15 minutes ago, but I guess he wasn’t a 3-foot-tall witch so no one paid attention when he said it.

Y’know for an 80s prom outfit, Louise’s dress is pretty cute.

I cannot stress enough that Brad’s girlfriend is at this dance while he and Louise are kissing! Does no one care? Were high school attitudes toward monogamy just way more flexible in the 80s?

Did I Cry? Shyeah, right.

This is such an odd, mostly charming, but wildly perplexing little movie. There was no antagonist or real conflict here, at all. Louise barely struggles with any sort of tension or remorse about having her powers and what it means for her life, she just kind of decides at the end that she’s over it, and she still gets the guy and no actual negative consequences from bending the entire school to her will for the past few months. I mean, in The Craft, when people use magic for their own gains, other people fucking DIE. I was definitely entertained, but a lot of it was due to me saying, “What? How? What?” loudly at the screen. I can see how this has gained a cult following in much the same way that other oddball 80s fare like Better Off Dead or Girls Just Wanna Have Fun did. Watch it once, then watch it again while you get drunk with your friends (in a post-Covid world, obviously) and you’ll probably have a pretty great time.

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

#121in2021 #teen witch #teen witch review #robyn lively #dan gauthier #zelda rubinstein #movie reviews #film reviews #patreon review

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