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#but it is also in response to anatomy theatre
nonstandardrepertoire · 5 months
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"guilt tripping the audience for behaving like an audience" has gotta be one of my least favorite theatrical tropes. like oh? we accepted the convention that people are acting out pretend scenarios and thus did not intervene when someone "did" something bad onstage? we paid less attention to a character that the narrative told us was unimportant? if we had rushed up on stage en masse to try to stop this event unfolding, the entire show would have fallen apart because you are actually actors following a script and audience intervention isn't scripted? and you want us to feel bad for interacting with the text as the text expects and teaches us to interact with it? no, fuck you, write better material
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Jane Doe (Ride the Cyclone) Propaganda:
Great singing, also she’s literally wearing a doll‘s head bc she lost hers
do they have their soul or is it rotting somewhere with their head?
BALLAD OF JANE DOE IS SO SAD AND SHE IS GREAT AND I ONLY WATCH RTC ONCE BUT SHES NY FAVE OK
cool asf
She forgets her name after her death and has no story told in the production
She's so sweet and deserves the world. Her song (The Ballad of Jane Doe) is great.
the song goes so hard just listen to her song guys please
she literally died and her head was cut off so nobody could tell who she was PLEASE let her take one (1) W
BECAUSE SHE IS AMAZING. First she already won the tournament in the musical to regain life, as she won them over with her sad wet cat energy because she did not have a head and feared that she lost her soul. Second, she died on a roller coaster and lost her head, but stole her doll's head and thats very gender. Third, throughout the musical she is used as a vessel for religious allegory, she is an angel, she is jesus, she is a demon, she is forsaken but she is purity itself. Fourthly, she is is given the identity of Savannah with the greenest eyes after the other characters who died with her hold her a birthday party, and I think thats sweet because its probably some kind of meaning I cant see but auughfhfhh shes so cool
i mean her name isn't TECHNICALLY jane doe but we refer to her as such. she's so silly!! autism powers! i don't have a lot of propaganda tbh. i would've just been surprised had she NOT been submitted
She lost her head literally when the rollercoaster derailed. She wasn't able to be identified apart from the school uniform she was wearing.
Her name is forgotten, and so is everything about her. So she’s called Jane Doe. She’s very sweet and very creepy, but she doesn’t mean it
and im asking WHYYYYY LORRRRRDDD
I LOVE HER! she died in a roller coaster accident and was decapitated, her body not being found. in the show, her head is actually just her doll’s head. the coroners couldn’t identify her, so she was dubbed a jane doe. in the game to be alive again, she ends up being voted, her name being revealed to be penny lamb. anyways she’s a little creepy and also quite silly and she does her funny little waddle like a porcelain doll (or corpse).
She deserves it! She lost her head she shouldn't lose this too.
Not convinced you didn’t start this tournament just for her tbh
They have a great song and a true air of mystery to them. They also have arguably the best song in the musical, The Ballad of Jane Doe! I would definitely recommend listening to it >:)
—She LOST her HEAD and had it replaced with a PORCELAIN DOLL —In all seriousness her story is really poignant. No one could identify her body so she arrives in the afterlife not knowing her identity and she spends the show vacillating between depressed and angry at her situation, leading to… —“The Ballad of Jane Doe”, specifically Emily Rohm’s version, might be the most haunting solo in musical theatre history.
The Anatomy Students (The Magnus Archives) Propaganda:
So technically there a 7 of them each with a different localization but one of them is legitimately John Doe
Also they are responsible for bone apple teeth
They are very fun
This submission is for the class of students in Episode 34: Anatomy Class, who are named Erika Mustermann, Jan Novak, Piotr and Pavel Petrov, John Doe, Fulan al-Fulani and Juan Pérez, which are all "John/Jane Doe" names. They are so creepy and so cool.
[about John/Jane Doe in particular]
Very good normal anatomy student doing his best to learn
This is a horror that went to anatomy class with a group of different variations of john doe esque names to learn about human body functions and scare a teacher for a full semester. was called john doe in the statement but later shows up as jane doe. trans rights?
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kitseddie · 1 year
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This Must Be The Place
Chapter 3: 1980’s Horror Film
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Part 1 Part 2
Part 4
(Eddie Munson x GN!Reader)
Summary: It’s finally time for your not-date. You and Eddie head to the movies and reminisce about your childhoods together.
WC: 5k
Warnings: talk of horror movies (somewhat spoilers for Carrie?) one mention of periods, drugs (weed), also didn’t realise before but I use female anatomy for the reader so still gn just afab!
A/N: Literally get so giddy whenever I see everyone liking or reblogging or tagging this fic for their lists, I appreciate it so much I’ve had so much fun writing this! This is one of my favourite chapters it is fluff central it’s tooth rooting sweet
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As soon as Eddie got home, he collapsed onto his mystery-stained mattress and stared up at his ceiling. There was no backing out now, it wasn’t long until he would be meeting you at the movie theatre. Pulling himself to his feet, he started making his way to the mirror. His glance landed on the cherry red guitar hanging from his wall, as he let out a deep breath thinking back to what Robin had said to him the night before.
“You play guitar and you're in a band, people find that attractive”.
He nodded to himself, meeting his own eyes as his ringed fingers attempted to tame his hair. Right on cue, his bedroom door flung open as he quickly tried to mask the shameless grooming. Robin made a beeline for the closet while Steve suddenly became entranced by the posters of heavy metal legends that littered his walls.
“How the hell did you guys get in here?”. He growled as Robin pushed some coat hangers aside and laid his clothes on the bed. She gasped and held a shirt over her torso to show Steve, his eyebrows raised as he rushed over to get a closer look. “Hey! Lisa, Louise, a little help here?”. He wiggled his hands around to get their attention, as they shared a look of mutual confusion. His hand reached for the bridge of his nose, using all his willpower to summon some patience.
“Lisa and Louise Burns? Stephen King? The Shining? ”. It quickly became obvious that the reference was lost on them. He immediately gave up and returned to styling his makeshift mullet in the mirror. Robin chuckled, rolling her eyes as she glanced over at Steve.
“God, he’s turning into you ”. Steve scoffed at her remark, his hands finding their way to his hips. Eddie ignored them, focusing on the task at hand as they had one of their usual back and forths.
“What is that such a bad thing? Good hair maintenance is a great trait to have, sure it might take an extra hour in the morning-” Robin scoffed back, her mouth wide.
“HOUR? Steve Harrington, you are not going to stand here and tell me you spend, sixty whole minutes on your hair. How do you get anything done?”. Eddie turned around and clapped his hands together, making them both look over at him.
“Alright, you two knuckleheads have been here ten minutes and neither of you has been gracious enough to explain why you’re rummaging through my shit like feral raccoons.” He widened his eyes, still receiving no response as Robin picked up an outfit she laid out and held it against his frame with a nod of approval. He really began to wonder how he’d ended up friends with these idiots. Eddie sighed, hanging his head. “This is about tonight isn’t it? What, you don’t trust me to not fuck it up, is that it?”.
“No, Eddie. We just…we know this is sorta new for you and thought you might need some moral support”. Steve nodded in agreement, giving him a hearty thumbs up. “We just wanted to ease the pressure a little, I thought maybe I could help you pick out the right outfit and Steve could give you some advice on how to, you know…” She made incoherent hand gestures. “Woo them”. A laugh escaped his lips, as he shook his head. He couldn’t believe that he was agreeing to this. He reached for the outfit she had picked out and held it against his frame, checking himself out in the mirror.
“See, what I was thinking was that we could put a nice jacket over this? Maybe some combat boots?”. His smile was warm and thankful, he simply nodded and headed to the bathroom to change. The mirror on his bathroom cabinet was much smaller but gave him a better look at himself. He was surprised to find himself liking it. Or at least not hating it. With a small smile, he reentered the bedroom and did a slight turn, modelling himself for his friends. They had settled on a black sabbath shirt that he had previously cut into a muscle tee, a pair of black jeans (paired with his chains, of course) and a pair of black combat boots, just like Robin had envisioned.
Steve let out a whistle and nodded to himself, impressed by his friend’s styling skills. “Looking good, Munson”. Eddie grinned deviously, patting Steve on the shoulder.
“Careful hot shot, I’m not off the market just yet”. Steve chuckled, shaking his head at his shameless flirty nature, as Eddie turned back towards the mirror. The more he looked at himself, the more it all started to grow on him. He had to admit that it had given him a little boost of confidence that he was lacking before they had shown up. Now he was just wondering what you’d think when you saw him.
Nervous was an understatement, it had been almost a decade since you’d hung out and he wasn’t sure how to act around you. And the same question swirled around and around in his mind, was this a date? He was broken out of his thoughts by Steve, practically shaking him out of his mindless daze. “Hey, Munson. Listen don’t get too in your head about this, alright? You just gotta be cool, babes dig cool.” A chuckle slipped through his lips, babes dig cool . “I’m gonna give you some tips for the road. Number one: The yawn and stretch, classic move, 99% effective. Number two-“.
“You know Harrington, I think this is some really solid advice and I really want to make sure I get this down. Maybe you could write it out for me?”. Completely oblivious to his sarcasm, Steve nodded and happily headed to the kitchen to grab a paper and a pen. The second he left the room, Eddie locked the door, hovering over to his drawers and pulling out a handkerchief to shove in his back pocket. Less than a minute later he heard the door handle jiggle, Robin sighing at his immaturity. “Sorry Stevie, the door must be jammed.”
“You know he’s gonna figure it out eventually.” He looked back at Robin, the door handle jiggling before it went silent. He’d clearly given up. “You don’t have to be a jerk, you know he’s just trying to help you”. Eddie laughed, he knew what he was trying to do he just didn’t have the mental capacity for that right now. Not when he had to pick which cologne would be best at masking the smell of cigarettes, booze and weed.
“Hey, I took your help, didn’t I? See? Total stud.” He spun around, his hands stretched out as he showed off his outfit. “I somehow feel like Steve and I have different approaches to flirting”. He picked up a cologne bottle that had a little left in the bottom and sniffed at the nozzle before spritzing himself with it. Suddenly they heard a loud tumble, and they noticed Steve dusting himself off by the open window.
“Not cool, man.” He muttered, running his hand through his hair. Eddie glanced down at his watch, as he started to panic. He should probably leave soon so he would have time to buy your tickets.
“Right, everyone out. You don’t have to go home but you can’t stay here.” Both his friends groaned, as Eddie pushed them out of the trailer and towards Steve’s beemer. “And no telling Henderson about this, alright? That little brat already knows way too much about my personal life”. They both begrudgingly agreed as he saluted them goodbye and jumped into his van.
The drive was nerve-wracking, to say the least, but the deafening sound of Iron Maiden was just enough to drown out his intrusive thoughts. But not by that much. He pulled up to the building and his eyes adjusted to the brightness, it was a crisp dark night and the golden bulbs of the Hawk Theatre sign shone beams that reflected onto the street. In big letters, it read “CARRIE: 10TH ANNIVERSARY”. He smirked to himself, Eddie was a big horror fan and Stephen King was a horror icon. If this was a date, it was the perfect setting. After buying your tickets at the booth, he pulled out a cigarette from the pocket of his leather jacket and took a couple of drags. It calmed his nerves until he looked down at the time anxiously, quickly stomping out his cigarette on the ground. Almost a second later he felt a pair of hands over his eyes, he froze in his spot for a moment.
“Guess who?”. He chuckled, hearing the familiar sound of your voice, letting out a deep breath before smirking to himself.
“Sigourney Weaver?”. You scoffed, slightly offended.
“Younger”.
Without missing a beat.
“Molly Ringwald?”. You paused and slowly removed your hands, raising your eyebrows at him in suspicion. He finally turned to look back and struggled to catch his breath, drinking in the sight of you.
“And how do you know who Molly Ringwald is?”. His shoulders shrugged as he failed to contain the huge smirk on his face, watching how cute yours looked when it was all scrunched up.
“What, a guy can’t like Evil Dead and Sixteen Candles?”. He teased as a devious grin crept upon your face, and then he realised his mistake. “I should have just said The Breakfast Club, huh?”.
“Eddie Munson, a secret lover of romcoms, who would have guessed?”. Your smile was bright and wide and he was memorised by the way his name sounded on your lips.
“Hey sweetheart, tease all you like. Just don’t forget who has the tickets.” He grinned, holding them out and waving them in front of your face. You immediately went to grab them as he pulled them away and shook his head at you, your second attempt was just as unsuccessful as he held them above his head so you couldn’t reach them.
“This was way easier when we were the same height.” You crossed your arms over your chest, as he chuckled at your pouting and playfully shoved you. It was hard to stay mad at him when he had that sweet look on his face, even with the new hair and clothes he still exuded a warmth that always made you feel safe.
“All yours, cross my heart”. He used his pointer finger to draw a cross against his heart, before holding out your ticket for you to take. You sighed and smiled, taking the ticket from him.
He nodded and bowed, extending his arm so you could take the first steps through the doors. A giggle escaped your lips as you curtsied and made your way into the theatre. Hawk was one of the more intimate theatres you’d been to but it had been here since before you left. Moving away from small town life wasn’t the worst thing, but there was something about Hawkins that was comforting. It was one of those small, humdrum towns that were cut off from the rest. Independent businesses, family-owned or even just ones that you’ve always known to be there. This theatre was one of them. You both stood in line at the concession stand waiting patiently to get the giant bucket of popcorn they did, for traditional purposes of course.
“Jesus, this hasn’t changed at all. It’s exactly how I remember from when we were kids”. Eddie watched as you glanced around the room and he looked over at you with those big brown puppy dog eyes. “Did you know the last time we came here was when this movie first came out? Man, I still remember how scared I was, I couldn’t sleep for like a week”. The long-haired boy chuckled, thinking back to when you would beg him to sleep on your floor to keep you safe. And how that lasted half an hour, when he became very aware of the undiscovered darkness underneath your bed. The nights would end with you both sharing your twin-sized mattress until you were sure the nightmares were over. And maybe for a little while after that.
“Oh, how could I forget? That was the first movie I ever snuck into. At least I’ve found the root of my rebellious streak, imagine what a good church boy I could have been if I hadn’t met the likes of you.” He joked, making you gasp in shock at his accusation. He was so dramatic. You missed that.
The line had died down as you teased each other, Eddie not noticing you were next up.
“Seven years and this what I get? Just for that you’re paying for my popcorn”. Before he could argue, you grabbed the bucket and walked towards your screen as he awkwardly pulled out his wallet and silently nodded at the cashier. He noticed you chuckling at him as he shook his head with a smile and followed you inside to where you were sitting.
You settled into your seats, happily munching on the popcorn as you offered him some before he huffed with a small smirk. “Offering me some of the popcorn I paid for? How thoughtful.” You rolled your eyes and stuck your tongue at him as he did the same and you struggled to keep your wide grin at bay. He was cute. Very cute and it was annoying.
It didn’t take long for the movie to start, and as the lights dimmed Eddie began to feel a little nervous. It wasn’t lost on him that the main reason teenagers came to see horror movies was so they could get their dates scared, coaxing them to jump in their laps. Or some just used it as an excuse to make out in the dark. But not you two. You both loved this movie, but Eddie could hardly focus on the view in front of him when he was enjoying the view next to him way more. The flickering lights shone against your face and your bright, wide, eyes were entranced. There was a minor jump scare as everyone yelled and your hand found his.
He froze.
You didn’t even react, you remained attached to him and would even squeeze his knuckles when you got a little frightened. He was emotionless, staring at your hand in his and praying that his palms weren’t as sweaty as they felt. Just as he thought everything was going so well. Ouch. He felt a piece of candy hit the back of his head, as he snapped his neck to check behind him and noticed the faces of the two people he wished to be anywhere else but here.
“Yawn and stretch!”. Steve shout-whispered, Eddie’s eyes growing wide in anger. He was lucky that you were too into the movie to hear him. Robin chuckled at her idiotic best friend, shaking her head at his attempts at blending in.
“God, way to be subtle, Steve.” She kicked his foot with her own as he let out another loud yelp, she was tired of this. “Move your clown feet dingus, I need to pee”. He groaned and moved in his legs, her eyes still looking back at him in disappointment as she made her way down the stairs. As she turned her head, she missed a step and started tumbling down the stairs and landing face upright by your and Eddie’s feet.
She had never seen Eddie this mad before. She was positive that if you weren’t sitting right next to him he would probably murder her. Her fingers tinkled awkwardly, as your eyes glanced down at the short-haired girl. “Holy shit! are you okay?”. Your hand immediately reached out to help her up as she took it and rose to her feet, very aware of her friend’s eyes bore into her soul.
“Peachy. Sorry to interrupt, enjoy your d-d-dirty the floor is so dirty, they should clean this way more. Floor maintenance is super…important. Bye”. She zoomed down the remaining stairs towards the bathroom, stumbling slightly on another step but catching herself as Eddie held his head in his hands. She waved slightly before walking through the double doors towards the ladies’ room. You chuckled at her awkwardness and then paused for a moment, cocking your eyebrows.
“Wait, don’t you work with her at the video store?”. He sighed glancing back at Steve and shaking his head at you with a tight-lipped smile.
“Nope. Never seen her before in my life.” He stood up abruptly, as your eyes slowly travelled up to him, noticing the hand he was offering out for you. “I’ve got Carrie at my place, and it’s a whole lot quieter”. A few people started to yell as he partially blocked the screen but he zoned them out, wiggling his fingers at you. With a wide grin, you grabbed a hold of his hand as he led you out to the parking lot.
-
It had been many long years since you'd seen Eddie before coming back to Hawkins; it had been just as long since you'd seen that ramshackle trailer park too. When you were around twelve years old, your dad decided to sign up for the Army. Your family had been broke and struggling, and it seemed like the best way to get out of Hawkins and move out into a proper house. And sure, it was nice at first. Army bases offered decent housing and things to do and other kids to meet, and the money wasn't terrible. But about the same time you moved to get a fresh start, your parents started having…. issues. Dad was never home to see you and Mom was worried sick about him never being around. It didn't take long for things to unravel, and soon the two of you left it all behind.
Fast forward a few years and you'd moved away again, she'd found a new man and remarried and the dust finally started to settle. Until one day your stepdad came home. He was just offered a new job at a fancy insurance company, and where was it? In goddamn Hawkins, Indiana. Everything about it felt surreal. Small towns never really grew into something new, but Eddie Munson certainly did. You just wished you'd been around to see it. When you stepped out of his van and onto familiar soil, you were in a mindless daze. It was like you never left.
“Must feel pretty creepy, huh? Being back where it all started”. His hand patted the top of his van, as his glance circled the trailer park. Still too stunned to form a sentence you just nodded your head, watching him push open the door to his trailer. The next thing that came into view was an eye sore, Wayne’s trucker obsession never seemed to fade and now there was a decade worth of memorabilia added to the living room walls.
“Ed? You didn’t tell me you brought company, would have spruced up in here”. Eddie chuckled, he didn’t recognise you either. It took everything in you not to bring Wayne into a bone-crushing hug, so you patiently waited for his nephew to enlighten him.
“Forget sprucing, we should have been rolling out the red for this one. Don’t remember our old neighbour, Uncle Wayne?”. It took a second until he glanced over you and his eyes widened, your smile grew even bigger as you jumped into his arms and held him tight.
“Darlin! Wow, haven’t you gotten big? I still remember when you were a ‘lil tike running around in your diapers with Eddie.” You held back an embarrassed blush, leaning away from him and struggling to wipe the grin from your face. He was always so good to you, kraft dinners and crappy reality television were how you’d spent the better part of your childhood. And you wouldn’t change it for the world.
“God, Wayne I missed you so much. It’s so great to see you!”. He nodded and smirked, his eyes flickered between you and Eddie for a minute as if he was trying to figure something out. “How were the new neighbours? Can’t imagine they were as pleasant as me”. You teased, Eddie suddenly becoming enraged.
“You’re telling me, they have fucking sticks up their butts! They’re always on my ass about playing my music, it’s infuriating”. Eddie whined, crossing his arms as he lent against the kitchen counter.
“Well son, you do play it awfully loud…”. Wayne quipped, causing his nephew to look back at him shocked by those big brown eyes.
“That’s beside the point, it’s the principle”. You rolled your eyes and scoffed, had he always been this much of a drama queen? With a small chuckle, Wayne sighed and shook his head.
“Hell am I glad you’re back, at least now it ain’t just me who’s having to deal with him”. He clasped a hand on Eddie’s head and shook it slightly with a grin, you giggled at his teasing watching the act of affection ease him. “Alright kids, I’ll be down the street having a couple with the guys, give you time to catch up. Take care of yourself, ya hear? Don’t be a stranger”. He half hugged your side and you pecked his cheek with a soft ‘you too’ before he winked at you both and headed out.
It was silent and the air felt thick all of a sudden. “Well I didn’t plan on the company, so my room looks like a bomb hit but I have some horror flicks on tape and…oh, do you…do you smoke?”. You could sense the fear in his eyes, smoking is a deal breaker for a lot of people and he prayed it wasn’t for you.
“Marijuana?”. He just nodded silently, holding his breath. “Why, you got some stashed somewhere?”. A laugh escaped him, if you only knew. You followed behind into his bedroom and realised that he wasn’t kidding, it had looked like a tornado had flown through. Guitar picks, cigarette butts and empty beer cans littered the floor. And oh that smell . He pulled out a bottle of fabric refresher and sprayed the room, you coughed at the sudden stench of chemicals and opened his window a crack.
“Right, I’m going in the kitchen to cook us mac ‘n’ cheese.” You wandered into the kitchen and pulled trash bags from underneath the sink. “And you’re gonna throw out your trash, I don’t care how pretty you are, I am not sitting in your filth”. He took the bag and rolled his eyes with a sigh, then he turned back to face you with a wide smirk.
“You think I’m pretty?”. Yeah, pretty insufferable. With a single sharp look in your eyes, he dropped his smile and gulped. He puffed out the bag and stood up straight, saluting you before he started tossing empty bottles inside. This was going to be a long night.
After the room was mostly clean and you had both devoured your pasta, Eddie rolled the biggest joint you’d ever seen. It had been a while since you’d smoked, so when it hit the back of your throat you let out a cough that had him in stitches. You shoved him playfully before you began to ease into it, he finished up and pressed out the lit end with a sizzle. He crawled up the bed and lent over the edge, struggling to push the VHS inside the player. You were a second away from helping him as it ate the tape and he let it play with a proud smile.
You couldn’t speak for him but the first time you saw this movie was the last time you saw it. Those nightmares were really something and though you’d grown into a huge horror movie fan over the years, everyone had those movies that scarred them as a kid. A part of you hoped Eddie had grown out of the fear and would be able to make you feel a little safer. He didn’t seem to be super phased when you were just watching it at the movies.
In the scene that played out, Carrie is in the locker room with her female classmates and she starts her period, she then screams in horror at the blood. Eddie shifts in his seat looking visually uncomfortable, his glance turns to the screen and then slowly back at you as Carrie bursts a light bulb in the shower. You can tell something is playing on his mind, as you lay your head back on the pillow.
“Out with it, Munson”. He seemed shocked that you could sense his eyes on you, even after all this time he was still so predictable. You could see the clogs turning inside his head, trying to figure out the best way to phrase whatever question he had to share.
“Is that actually how it…happens? You know when you…” You almost snorted at the question, he couldn’t even say the word. He tiptoed around it like it was taboo. A chuckle slipped through your lips as you decided to have some fun, veering around to face him.
“Yeah, I can totally burst light bulbs with my mind”. You were being sarcastic, but you could still sense that a part of him believed it. You just rolled your eyes and hit your head against the pillow as there was a sudden burst of lightning and Eddie just about shrieked. The power went out for a second, and the emergency generator must have started up. Suddenly the lights switched back on and revealed a terrified Eddie clutching to your chest like a scared little boy. It was impossible to hold back the laughter that you felt as you held your stomach.
“So not funny!.” He seemed a little mad but you didn't care, you were never gonna let him live this down. Wayne wandered through the door, guess neither of you heard him come back in. Eddie quickly separated himself from you despite really needing to be held right now.
“You alright darlin’? I heard you scream?”. There was nothing to stop the tears falling from your eyes as you laughed yourself into a fit. Eddie was pissed, reassuring Wayne you were both fine as he awkwardly nodded back and closed the door. Your laughing didn’t subside as he growled under his breath and shook his head.
“Alright, that’s it”. He muttered, turning to lay on top of you, reaching fingers out to tickle you. The once melodic laughter melted into playful fear as you screamed and told him to stop, using your free limbs to kick at him. He knew how much you had hated being tickled since you were young and nothing had changed. The more you squirmed, the more he chuckled to himself, watching the tears of laughter falling from your eyes.
“Eddie, you bastard! Truce, TRUCE!”. He sighed and slowly moved his hands from your stomach, watching you relax against the bed in a state of exhaustion. The movie continued playing but it was hard to pay attention since he was still on top of you. It felt stuffy all of a sudden. The air became thicker as you stared at each other for a bit too long and struggled to think of what you could say to break the tension.
“We should probably finish the movie”. His voice was small and anxious in a way that felt different to his usual demeanour. He had always been confident from a young age, eccentric and theatrical. When you would play Dungeon and Dragons, he was always the most skilled Dungeon Master.
You were young and it was the 70s. It took a lot of allowances to save up for the boards and books, but you all worked together to make it happen. The party consisted of Jeff, Grant, you and Eddie and you were the strongest party Hawkins had ever seen. You remembered your Dad having to physically drag you from Eddie’s trailer when you both stayed up late brainstorming ideas for campaigns. He was always confident and open, especially with you.
Then it started to dawn on you, you couldn’t pretend like the past seven or eight years hadn’t changed something in him or your relationship with each other. You were both adults, he was the same Eddie deep down but there was so much growing he had done that you weren’t around for (and vice versa). He had sat up and moved a few inches away from you and you started to wonder if he was seriously upset about your teasing.
“Eddie?”. You called, staring up at the ceiling blankly as his head turned to face you. “I missed a lot when I was gone didn’t I?”. The room had become clearer than it was when you first stepped in and you wondered if it was your new epiphany or the weed.
“Yeah. Yeah, you did.” He sounded sad about it, and you immediately felt a prang of guilt and sorrow in your chest. Why did you have to leave? Why couldn’t you have kept your best friend and grown up with him the way you’d always talked about?
“Hey, it’s okay, alright? I mean shit, I thought I’d never see you again. I mean…I’m so different now, what if...do you still wanna be around me? I don’t want you to feel like you needed to reach out because we were friends before…” You sat up and stared back at him, he was insecure. Eddie Munson. He felt like he wasn’t someone you would want as your best friend anymore.
“You’re a fucking idiot”. You blurted, his eyes widened at your response as he held back a gasp. He blinked at you a few times before you chuckled and shook your head. “Eddie. The second I got back here, I looked everywhere for you. Do you not remember how shattered I was when I had to leave? Dude, I was a fucking wreck for like a month afterwards. You were my best friend! I knew you before I knew how to shit by myself!”. This earned you a hearty laugh as he shoved you and held his hand over his face with a huge smirk.
“I’m serious, Eds. I don’t want this break to change anything, we have forever to learn all the new weird quirks we picked up from when we were apart. I just can’t handle…I just don’t wanna lose you like last time. And who’s to say it won’t be the other way around?”. He smiled weakly, his eyes sparkling as he stared back at you.
“Impossible, sweetheart.” You grinned back at him, both your smiles growing as you realised how lucky you were to have found each again.
“Sweetheart”. You repeated, looking down at your jeans as you picked at the loose threads. “Have you always been such a flirt?”. He seemingly enjoyed the teasing, grinning wider now.
“Hmm. Must be one of my new quirks”. His smirk was smug, it felt more like Eddie. And this felt like a step in the right direction.
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starwarsgirlie · 1 year
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We Belong To Death
Hi homegirls! Here's the second chapter of my Viktor X Reader fic!
The reader has female anatomy and goes by she/her pronouns. Further chapters will contain NSFW content! 
PLEASE comment on what you think or what you'd like to see! I love collaborating!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters besides Persephone. I used the Arcane lore and characters from Kander and Ebb's Cabaret for much of this chapter's plot!
Trigger warnings: Sexual themes, drugs, alcohol, and death 
Chapter 2 - Life is a Cabaret
"Lacey", the name of the cabaret you worked at... and grew up in. Owned by your dearest Granny Ray, this place became your home. The upstairs is where you lived with the elderly women and your sisters, other orphaned children she had taken in. There were seven of you: Fritzy, Sally, Frenchie, Helga, Lulu, Rosy and you. You adored your family, and they adored you. Fritzy and Sally were the oldest, 24 years old—both tall and adorning beautiful locks of brown hair. Fritzy was known for her cold demeanor but nonetheless showed her sister's love in her own ways. Being the oldest is a tough job, and she felt it was her responsibility to help Granny Ray raise and protect you all.
Then there was Sally, also the oldest, but don't expect her to look after anything. Despite having the sweetest heart, she is known to be impulsive, forgetful, and a little on the wild side. Frenchie- 20, in your opinion, was one of your most beautiful sisters, who was quite aware of her beauty's effect on others. With her green eyes and auburn hair her smile could get her anything she wanted. Helga-20, too, could get anything she wanted from others, but this was more through intimidation; with her short purple hair and muscular build, she was your protector. However, she was also very charming, making her and Frenchie unstoppable in getting what they wanted. Lulu- 18, was very quiet and sensitive to what was happening around her. Being able to read people's emotions and intentions, she was who you needed when new people came knocking on the club door wanting to do business. With her petite build and dark hair, she easily went unnoticed when lurking in the shadows, assessing those around her. Finally, there was your sister, Rosy, with her curly black afro and golden brown eyes; she was the face of mischief. Rosy-18 had always been curious and intrigued by what was happening around her. She snuck into air ducts, closets, and cupboards with her petite build, nearly scaring Granny Ray half to death most of the time. If you ever wanted to know what was happening in anyone's life, she was the one you would ask.
Now, this cabaret is different from what you think it is. It isn't some shady strip club or whorehouse; Lacey was where one could watch a performance that could match those of the theatres in Piltover. Sure, you had your drunks and men who would ogle over the girls performing, but as Granny Ray said, "We live in a man's world, girls. Unfortunately, no one holds men accountable for their behavior, so we might as well make money off it." And she was right; the money you and your sisters made off those dingy men was why you survived in the undercity. However, this didn't mean the men could touch the performers; no, no, no, Granny Ray was very strict that her performers were always safe and that any person trying to cause funny business would be dealt with, often by Vander himself. 
Vander was very close with Granny Ray as she often looked after his kids Vi, Powder, Claggor, and Mylo. Oh, how you loved them! Due to The Last Drop and Lacey being across the street from each other, you often spent time with them, which you loved because they were much closer in age to you than your sisters, as you were only 11. You were only allowed to be a performer at Lacey when you were 18, so while your older sisters performed, you worked behind the bar making "drinks" with Powder (Granny Ray made sure only to give you two fruit juices). This is how it went for years, all you kids running between the two establishments "helping" and getting a small allowance. However, it was clear that Vander and Granny Ray hardly gave you any actual work, instead just tasks to keep you busy. 
Oh, how you couldn't wait for the day you could join the cabaret; you'd been learning the dances and songs your whole life from your older sisters, especially Rosy; she was often the star of the show and one of the sisters you were most close with. Her grace and elegance were unmatched, and while you thought all your sisters were talented, you could understand why she was the star. 
As the years passed, you got more and more excited to join the cabaret until things took a turn for the worst. You were not told what happened; all Granny Ray said was Vander had passed away, and you could no longer see the kids. Only from Lulu and Rosey did you hear of Claggor and Mylo's death and how Vi and Powder had disappeared. You couldn't believe this and in a panic rushed to The Last Drop, and who you found was a man called Silco. He bent to your level despite his cold facade, "Hello, young Percy. I suggest you run back home, but not before I give you a message for Granny Ray; tell her that Lacey is under my protection and has no obligation to help sell shimmer." You ran home confused. What was shimmer, and why was he protecting your home? Upon arrival, Granny was furious. And you were forbidden ever to go there and talk to your friends again. Why do so many people expect you always to forget the past and those you love with little to no explanation? However, sensing your sadness and panic, Fritzy took you aside to explain what had happened more clearly. "My dearest Percy, I know you are confused, but you need to know that at this time, you have to stay away from there for your safety. Your friends have moved to another beautiful world where they are now playing together!" "But why did they leave me? Everyone leaves me." you sobbed, and the windows shook. All your sisters came into the room, knowing you were losing control. Before you knew it, they surrounded you, gently holding you in a group hug. You calmed down and looked up, "We will never leave you, Percy." Frenchie smiled. "Of course not; you're my favorite sister. Do you think I like these other bitc-OUCH?" Sally elbowed Helga in the side; don't swear in front of her. Everyone giggled, including you. "We love you, Percy, and we are here for you always," Sally whispered, kissing your forehead. 
You were sad for a long while, but with the support of your sisters and time, you began to feel better, and before you knew it, it was your 18th birthday. 
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aihs · 1 year
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anntoldst0ries · 4 years
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Lost in Translation
If someone told me a couple of months ago how invested I’d be in OH and the story, I would laugh at them. But here we are, isn’t life full of surprises :) 
Apologies for mistakes, if you notice any please feel free to let me know!
Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC 
Word Count: 2,358
Summary: What happens when it’s just Dr Ramsey and his thoughts?
Warnings: None, just a tiny bit of angst & fluff. A lot of introspection!
~~~~~~~
After what felt like the longest shift ever, Dr Ethan Ramsey finally entered his apartment. He closed the door, leaving the whirlwind of his professional life outside.
A biscuit golden retriever jumped at him with all the might in his paws and the sore muscles of a 37-year old diagnostician almost gave up under the pressure of furry ball of fluff.
“I’m happy to see you too, buddy. But you need to go easy on me today.”
Jenner just stared at him with those big black eyes, licked his hand and went back to solving the most important problem of the day: how to cadge some real food, the one hooomans eat.
Although he was far from contemplating whether dogs have what resembles an intelligence (it was someone else’s specialty) he couldn’t help but think Jenner knows. This constantly salivating, instinct-driven creature somehow understands what it is that Ethan asked him to do and why.
“Great, Ramsey. You are going crazy, may as well admit yourself to the psychiatric ward right now. Dr Keller will be delighted to see you. And all the predators of Edenbrook will finally have a proper fodder - Ethan freaking Ramsey has officially freaked out.”
Having poured himself a decent glass of scotch, he stood in front of a giant window overlooking the bay. The waters were quiet and calm, a total contrast to the fire burning inside him after taking a long sip. There was something soothing in the almost painful feeling. 10 years ago downing a whole glass of neat scotch was way beyond his repertoire. One of the perks of being over 35, he guessed. It was scientifically proven that man’s tastebuds change drastically after reaching certain age. He had to admit, there was at least a grain of truth in this. The gold liquid was no longer just bitter and harsh; it had texture, flavour, a complexity - something he wasn’t able to appreciate before. As a doctor, he also knew that he’s got 20, maybe 25 years of this experience left - until ruthless time and ageing will blend all tastes into one.
The lights of the night danced around the spacious living room, their gold reflections creating an aura of mystery in a dimly-lit apartment. He looked around and his gaze landed on antique vase, a present Naveen brought him from Greece for his 35th birthday. It complemented tasteful interior design, expensive decorations and custom furniture perfectly.
As beautiful as they were, all these things made him feel nothing. It was almost ironic that this unquestionably beautiful property, paid for with his own blood, sweat and tears, he couldn’t possibly care less about. Right now, he could have been in some shithole in Roxbury, sipping cheap beer and it would make no difference whatsoever. Except, it would have saved him a mini fortune, which he was now spending on this goddamn penthouse in Beacon Hill. A place he never ever spent more than 4 hours at a time in.
He smirked at the thought - that’s exactly what Naveen said about his own lake house before saying goodbye to his mentee last year. Back when he thought he was going to die soon. Was it surprising? No, everyone was expecting that Ethan will one day take Naveen’s place as the best diagnostician in the world. He considered this not so much an honour, but rather a tribute to his biggest idol, his friend, his father figure. If he was to ever repay Dr Banerji for everything he’s done for him, there was only one way - he needed to be the best among the best.
They called him the best diagnostician of his generation. Although he resented the title, this label given to him by the mutual admiration society (that he had zero respect for), he was very much aware that he was exceptional at his job. Ethan never thought of this as bragging, because bragging made people vain. He liked to think of it as self-confidence, which, as it grew stronger, made him work for his patients even harder than he ever thought possible. The people whose lives he saved, they had to have confidence in him. They had to believe that he knows what he’s doing. And how could he instil a sense of confidence in them, had he not had it himself?
“You can’t give what you don’t have.” - the sentence kept echoing in his head. Tobias used to say that to him all the time, he lived by these words. It was probably the only relic of their once unbreakable (or so they stupidly thought) bond and also the only thing relating to Tobias that didn’t make him want to gag.
So Ethan accepted his role as a successor of the greatest diagnostician in the country. Because there was a mission and a responsibility behind this fate. Because there was a sense of safety in predictable realms of medicine. Also, because… it felt like kicking Tobias right in the crotch. Although he’d never admit this to anyone, least of all himself, the unwritten competition they were subject to for the past 17 years, helped him keep a laser focus on the tasks in front of him. And every time he was able to wipe the smile off Mass Kenmore’s ‘star’ handsome face, Ethan felt satisfaction.
Becoming the man he was today required a lot of changes. He got rid of all the needs of usual Everyman. First, he swept his feelings under the carpet of indifference and cynicism. Then, he learned how to live among people, but without delving into deep and ‘meaningful’ relationships. This was his bauble and he was perfectly… content with it. That is, until it hadn’t been smashed to pieces because something happened to him.
Someone happened to him.
Oh fuck.
He made a desperate attempt to try and stop the inevitable, but it was too late.
His head was instantly flooded with images, followed by ubiquitous tingles that filled his body. In his mind’s eye, a face shaped instantly, the image so vivid that he was almost blinded by it. It’s as if the person was standing right in front of him. The feeling was as mesmerising as it was painful.
Damn it. She didn’t even have to be here to do things to him. To make him see things. Smell things. Hear things. Feel things.
Ethan and The Feelings. This band rarely played together. Ethan wasn’t really a team player and The Feelings were loud, untameable and too unpredictable for the likes of him. He had to learn to tolerate them, because wherever she went, they followed.
He couldn’t rid of her presence, no matter where he was or what he did. Not that he wanted to - he just couldn’t, for the love of god, comprehend all this. Having been a king of self-control and master of his own life, it was beyond Ethan’s understanding how this woman, almost a decade younger than him, managed to turn him into… well, Jenner. He’d do anything she’d ask him to do. He was an electric ride-on, the one they buy for children. And she was holding the remote.
No, this wasn’t the most fortunate comparison. Because an electric toy was not capable of feeling things. And he was. A lot. More than he ever thought possible and more than he wanted to.
The fear of being misapprehended stopped him from telling her that sometimes he hated what she was doing to him. Not her, he could never hate her. He hated this unexplainable power she had over him and wasn’t even fully aware of. It frightened him. That she clawed his composure back so easily. That her youth, enthusiasm and energy were like a tornado to the illusionary beach he used to inhabit in his head. The force of her personality wreaked havoc on the well-oiled cogs of the machine that was once his life.
It took all the strength he had to stay away, from the day he first saw her. No, that’s not right. From the first time he felt her. Ethan’s mind was definitely against him today, because the images materialised within seconds, before he even managed to fully accept the presence of the thought.
He was sitting in his office, wondering why the hell has he agreed to help Harper with reading pages of blabber from wannabe surgeons and doctors. They were all the same and if he got a cent for every time they got under his skin, he’d be a millionaire. But Harper was an old friend and his ex, he had a lot of respect for her. She’d just been promoted to the Chief of Medicine and although she was more than capable to do the job, he understood that transition from theatre to bureaucracy was scary and challenging for her. It was the least he could do to help and certainly a task way easier than being a shoulder to cry on.
Having gone through pages of “I wanna change the world and find a cure for cancer” he almost fell asleep on his desk. Not that there was something wrong with medical research or a quest for deeper meaning of one’s career - but what he read in those applications sounded like an extract from a beauty pageant. And, frankly, when he looked at some of the photos attached to applications, he couldn’t help but think beauty pageants were a better fit for some of these people than a hospital.
“Christ, are they giving away medical degrees for free these days?” He sighed loudly, sending another handful of pages onto the pile of would-be Grey’s as he called them, because he was more than certain that majority of these people derived their idea of work in hospital from the TV series Grey’s Anatomy. All Ethan knew was that he’s never seen anything more divorced from reality, having watched one episode after all the nurses kept chirping about Dr Derek Shepherd for a whole week.
Fully prepared for yet another disappointment, he turned the front page of next file. Looking at him was a young, beautiful woman with raven hair. Her gaze was daring and gentle at the same time. Even though it was just a photo, he couldn’t shake the feeling that she looked right through him.
Things only got better as he kept going through the next pages. Her application was a riveting read, it was honest, filled with passion and well written, all without being cliche. He saw the most incredible potential, but more importantly, he felt it. She made him feel things, even though he never met her. It was all just pouring from the pages. Ethan would always remember how excited and nervous it made him feel. He almost suffered from a head-on crash with gurney whilst running to Harper’s office, because he had to make sure that she gets the residency position in the hospital. His own feelings played no role here, she simply deserved this position and he knew Dr Emery won’t even question his judgement.
And then he met her.
To be honest, he completely forgot about the interns’ induction, he’s seen so many in his life already that he couldn’t care less. The new case Diagnostics Team took onboard was occupying him completely on that day.
Looking at it now, he couldn’t help but think of one of his favourite movies, Picnic at Hanging Rock. There was this line that he always felt drawn to, but could never fully understand:
“Everything begins and ends at exactly the right time and place“
He was walking down the long corridor, when he heard Danny, one of the nurses, screaming. A minute later Ethan was on his knees, next to a woman in her 50s. He figured out quite quickly what was happening to her, but if his diagnosis was correct, he was going to need some help. Having lifted his gaze, he looked for a familiar face. But there was no one around. That’s when he remembered about the stupid intern induction.
“Damn it, where are the doctors?!” - he asked out loud.
“I’m a doctor!” - responded an unfamiliar voice. Ethan turned around and saw a young woman with black hair in fresh scrubs. He never saw her before and figured she must be one of the new interns.
“You, Rookie. Come here!” - he literally wouldn’t mind if she was an actress playing a doctor, he needed an extra pair of hands. Right here, right now. She kneeled on the patient’s left side, her sight piercing him, waiting for instructions. That’s when it hit him.
It was her.
The fate didn’t spare her - Ethan knew as well as she did that having to deal with Hemothorax on your first day was a tricky business. But she was brilliant. A little nervous, yes, but brilliant.
All she needed was a push. That’s why he picked her to pieces, leaving her confused and probably upset. She will understand one day and she will be grateful.
He said what he had to say and then he just disappeared behind the corridor. He couldn’t be around her more than necessary. Because she made him feel. And this was the last thing he needed right now. Or ever.
What the hell?
Dr Ramsey shook his head and woke up from his daydream. He felt his loyal furry companion licking his hand with a pleading gaze. Suddenly, the weight of the thoughts crushed him like a tidal wave, the feeling so intense that his legs instantly turned into Jell-O, forcing him to sit down. That’s exactly what he was afraid of. The moment he’s had a minute, he immediately gave into thoughts. That’s what she was doing to him. Every part of him wanted to take an extra shift, but common sense and medical knowledge prevailed. He needed 8 hours of uninterrupted sleep, otherwise his body would give up soon, making him no use to anyone, especially not all the patients who desperately needed him.
But he was a fool to assume this was going to happen.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Tag list (please let me know if you wish to be removed, I tagged the accounts I follow and truly admire!): @terrm9 @openheart12 @openheartthot @rookie-ramsey @alwaysmychoices @brooks-eden @drethanramslay @starrystarrytrouble @justanotherrookie @caseyvalentineramsey @incorrectopenheart @heauxplesslydevoted @perriewinklenerdie
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Okay hi! Don’t mind me just jumping back onto my AU wagon with a Bodyguard!Jake fic inspired by The West Wing that absolutely nobody asked for but I couldn’t help but write ... 😎🚨 anyway it’s called let down your guard and you can find it on under the cut or on ao3! 
let down your guard 
chapter one: there’s so much that you just don’t see 
There are a collection of nuclei in the temporal lobe of the brain known as the amygdala, that are best known for their role in sparking the fight or flight reaction in most people when met with emotions like fear.  Amy had read about it once, in a medical journal that she’d found at Rosa’s house (it’s presence on her coffee table, to this day, remains unexplained).  According to the article; once the amygdala sparks, your brain’s ability to retain memory increases, and in hindsight can make a patch of time feel as though it has stretched on forever.
As she stands in the world’s slowest elevator at Medstar Washington Hospital this evening, with her heart smashing against her ribcage and her toes tapping against the faded linoleum floor; Amy is certain that her amygdala has kicked into overdrive.  
Panicking, her frantic mind keeps bouncing around between the urges to run like hell and stay until the bitter end, and it definitely isn’t like Amy because she’s never run away from a fight, but maybe there’s a part of her that already knows that what could happen next has the potential to change everything. 
Her eyes remain glued to the squares inset along the top of the car, their white laminate long since turned a faded yellow; the number eleven scratched out almost to the point of non-existence.  She counts, a slow progression in her head that tries it’s very best at blocking out the thoughts racing around - the thoughts that keep telling her that she might have just lost the greatest thing to happen to her before it could ever really happen - and she can’t bear to look at her watch right now, but she’s positive that three minutes pass before the dim light behind the number four decides to amble it’s way towards five.  
“Shots were fired in a store on 14th Street,” was the message she’d received, a mere half an hour ago (also, approximately the time she’d gotten on this damn elevator).  Boyle’s pale face, and a choked out number.  “Room 9554.”  The rest is muddled - she knows she started running; remembers hearing Terry call out to her departing figure, and she’s pretty sure her purse is somewhere back at the theatre lobby - but there was a force stronger than anything she can label that was pulling her to the hospital, and in that moment Amy had absolutely no intention of stopping.  
The squares for six and seven remains mute yet eight comes to life, and the knots in her stomach begin to clench even tighter.  There’s a mantra that’s been playing in the back of her mind - from the very moment she’d stepped into the lobby and saw Charles make a beeline in her direction - and it takes over any other rational thought as finally level nine lights up, and the doors to her metallic prison slide open.  Please let him be okay.  Please let him be okay.
I don’t know what I’ll do, if Jake is not okay.
The sterility of the ward burns her nostrils and the clack of her heels sound vaguely like the rattling snare drums at the last inauguration, interrupting the otherwise calm environment of the floor as the numbered plaques beside each room begin to blur.  She dodges past nurses, doctors, and patients alike; and she can tell that they recognise her face (which means there’s a very good chance that this will be in the paper tomorrow), but it doesn’t matter that they know her, it doesn’t matter if the press find out about this - nothing else matters if he is not okay - and then finally, FINALLY, the numbers 9544 are before her.  
Her fingers feel limp, but somehow she manages to grip the doorknob and turn - pushing her weight against the wood as though somehow it is the reason she hasn’t been able to get here earlier - and then suddenly the only sound Amy hears is the frenzied heaving of her own breath.
The room is empty, save for a bed in the middle - stripped clean and returned to it’s regular scrutiny from the harsh fluorescent buzzing above.  A clipboard cleared of any history hangs lax from its base, and on the very edge of the mattress sits a leather jacket; the same jacket that had once hung on the back of her apartment door … and the same jacket that Amy’s fingers had gripped the edge of a mere three hours before.  
She feels her stomach drop to her feet, glued to position as her mind moves into overdrive, eyes trained solely on the scene before her as the realisation hits.  
Jake was not okay.  And nothing was ever going to be the same again.    
*
Five months earlier … 
“On to other news.  We can confirm that there has been a surge in counterfeit notes across the nation, with several states reporting projections of significant economic loss.”
Amy pauses as the small crowd in front of her transform into a cacophony of sound, pen-clenched fingers and miniature recorders thrusting towards the ceiling in desperate attempts to get her attention and break their version of the story.  Blinking, she gives them her best I’m not done yet look, and after a few beats the reporters in front of her fall silent.
“President Holt has already been in discussion with the Secret Service, and are confident that the lead they are running on will come to fruition.”
From the back, Matthews from The Sun raises his hand, and Amy gives a quick nod.  “You said there were several states reporting loss.  Do we have an estimation?”
“Presently, the calculations are upwards of 3 million dollars, which - ” she emphasises, as the sea of hands raise once again, “is why there are teams working around the clock to stop the fraudulent currency from getting into circulation.  In the meantime, The White House has released an image of the forged notes,” nodding to her left, Amy waits for the screen beside her to light up, “and the differences are clearly distinguishable.”
The room falls quiet as the reporters all turn their attention to the image, and Amy watches as they all slowly turn back to her with varying expressions of confusion.  Suppressing a sigh, she uses the remote in her hand to zoom in on the imitation of the offical seal, the same one that is on every U.S. dollar bill, and undoubtedly in the pocket or purse of every single person here.  Not a day goes by that she doesn’t wish that Latin would finally wake up from its long nap (or it’s conquiescamus, as it were).  “Pluribus.  There are two Rs.”  She waits a beat, and continues in a dry tone.  “There should only be one.”
To her right, Ginns from The Examiner clears his throat; glancing up at Amy to ensure he has her attention before flipping open his notebook.  The Chicago-born columnist was unashamed in his opinion - as were his loyal followers - and his coverage of Holt’s campaign had leant towards unfavourable.  With a tight smile, Amy swallows the urge to scream at whatever was about to come next.  “Yeah, so - with regards to the Secret Service.  After his inauguration, President Holt elected a new head of the Presidential Detail, a .. ” pausing, Ginns refers to his notes, creasing his brow.   “Rosa Dye-az.”  
Pushing her tongue against the back of her teeth, Amy wills herself not to interrupt and correct Ginns’ pronunciation, waiting for some kind of sign of potential redemption.  Instead, he leans forward and continues.  
“Apart from what has already been published, her history and previous credentials appear to be incredibly difficult to correlate.  Given her obvious reluctance to divulge anything to the American public, and the fact that this role has never been held by a female prior to today, what reassurance can we the people have that Miss Dye-az was the best choice?”
Feeling her back teeth begin to grind together, Amy takes a measured breath before fixing Ginns with a steely gaze.  Questions such as these have been a common denominator since Holt was sworn in over a month ago, particularly due to choosing Olivia Crawford as his VP; and while expected, the overwhelmingly misogynistic responses were beginning to wear thin.
“I can assure you, Mr Ginns, that President Holt’s vetting process for all roles was incredibly thorough - and Ms Dee-az,”  she pauses, raising a singular brow, “remained incredibly co-operative throughout.  We cannot bow to the curiosities of the general public on every request for detail, or we’d never stop.  After all, the public continues to let you write for one of D.C’s most prolific news journals without knowing the details of your Christmas Card list, and somehow the world continues to spin.”
Ginns’ responding eye roll is poorly concealed, and Amy’s fingernails begin to dig into the edge of her podium.  “Furthermore, I would suggest that despite Ms Diaz having a uterus, the bar set by her predecessors will continue to ascend.  One could even argue that the lack of … other certain parts of the human anatomy will only assist in keeping a clear head in the most intense of situations.”
The reporter shifts uncomfortably in his seat, blessedly silent in his rebuttal, and Amy directs the end of her statement towards the rest of the crowd.  “President Holt and his administration are aware that a small percentage of the public lack confidence in the roles he has filled.  Criticism is necessary, and welcome.  But unmerited accusations regarding a person’s ability based entirely on their sex is where he draws the line.”  Slamming the file in front of her closed, Amy takes a step back before leaning closer to the microphone, delivering her final line.  “That concludes the presidential briefing for today.  Thank you.”
Terry hovers by the doorway as Amy exits, his leather yoked suspenders proudly displaying the commemorative pin gifted to him upon being sworn in as the president’s Chief of Staff, and he cocks his head towards her as they move swiftly down the corridor towards Amy’s office.  “Interesting briefing you held there, Santiago.”
“You mis-pronounced psychotic, Ter-bear,” interjects Gina as she passes them both, head already bowed down to her cellphone before either can respond.  
Already feeling defensive, Amy shakes her head quickly, raising one hand to gesture at the room she’d just departed.  “We’ve been fielding commentary like that since the early days of the campaign, Terry.  At some point, we just need to point out the baselessness of their remarks, and remind them that there simply isn’t a place for it in modern society.”
Raising his hands in surrender, Terry shrugs.  “Don’t get me wrong.  Terry hates closed minded attitudes.  As do the rest of the cabinet.  I just find it fascinating to watch how close our new Press Secretary came to literally biting a reporter’s head off.”
“Ugh.  I’m fairly certain it would just pop like a balloon.  Full of hot air and not much else.”
Nodding, Terry points in the direction of Amy’s office.  “You might be onto something there.  Heads up, though - I saw Diaz making a beeline to your office just as you were wrapping things up.”  He pauses, shoving his hands into his pockets while giving her the side-eye.  “Terry wishes you luck.”
Smiling at an intern as they hand her an updated schedule, Amy casts a quick glance down the hallway and grimaces.  “Well, at least she hasn’t gone straight to grinding her axe.” 
“I didn’t see both hands, but let’s assume you’re right.”
Throwing Terry an exasperated glance, Amy bids him farewell before moving towards her office, deliberately taking on a confident stride as she squares her shoulders in preparation for confrontation.  
With her jet black curly hair and the zero fucks aura surrounding her, most members of the team had learned on their own that Special Agent Rosa Diaz was not somebody to be trifled with.  Not meeting until the last couple of months of Holt’s campaign, Amy had spent the first few weeks largely being ignored by Diaz - until one afternoon, when a particularly vocal protester tried to pull Amy in for a debate, only to be met by Rosa’s steely glare and the unspoken promise of worse to come.  She’d muttered, on their way back to the car, that they needed to have each other backs; and over time their working relationship had grown into a something closer to friendship.  
(A friend that occasionally intimidates you with their intensity, but a friend all the same.)
With her trademark leather jacket covering her like a second skin Rosa is easy to point out in the busy walkway, but it’s the two men standing with her that captures Amy’s attention as she draws near.  One was tall with a distinctive profile; the other slightly shorter, and sporting a hairstyle that looked like it could survive a hurricane.  Although the taller one wore shades, Amy could tell that both of them were casing their environment, taking in their surroundings with a stern exterior that gave away exactly who they were.  
These men were Secret Service, and for some reason they were standing outside her office door.
Her curiosity overshadowing the possibility that she may need to eat a slice of humble pie, Amy thrusts the hand still holding the schedule towards the two men as she passes Rosa, giving them her best Suspicious Face.
“Who are those guys?”
“Good morning to you too, Santiago.”  Rosa’s dark eyes follow Amy’s path around to her desk, tilting her chin upwards after a beat.  “My uterus thanks you for it’s shout-out this morning.”
“Ugh, okay.”  Returning her planner to it’s designated top-left-corner position, Amy feels her shoulders drop as she throws an apologetic look at the woman in front of her.  “I know that wasn’t my best work.  But the guy was being a jerk, and I was 100% done with the conversation.”
“No, really.  It’s fine.”  Rosa’s voice takes on no other inflection to demonstrate her approval, but Amy learned a long time ago not to read into her monotone.  “My uterus is a bad-ass.  Definitely tries to punch me from the inside out at least once a month.”  She smirks, a sight familiar to only a select few, and raises one eyebrow.  “Somehow, I still manage to keep the President and all his flunkies alive.  It really is shocking.”
Without invitation, the mystery men have followed Amy into her office, hovering along the outskirts of the room while she checks her messages, listening with half an ear as Rosa continues to go into alarming detail on how she’d personally like to deal with reporters like Ginns.  It’s as the taller of the two reaches out to investigate an award propped up on her well-stocked shelf that Amy finally looks up, dropping the slips of paper to the desk and throwing Rosa an exasperated look.  “Seriously, who are these guys?  And why are they in my office?”
 “Oh, right.  About that.  Amy, this is Special Agent Peralta,” Rosa pauses, thrusting her thumb towards the taller guard in shades, “and this guy is Special Agent Boyle.”  Clearing her throat, she fixes Amy with her typical Rosa’s Way Or The Highway look.  “They’re going to be your new security detail.”
A grinning Agent Peralta throws a tiny wave in Amy’s direction, and she lets out a petulant huff, planting her hands on the empty section of her desk.  “Rosa, we’ve talked about this.  I’m a visible target.  I go out there every other day and announce policies and updates and god knows what else.  It’s inevitable that I end up with a few snarky emails every now and then.  People need a face to complain to, and this guy’s obviously chosen me.”
“Sorry,” Rosa replies, in a tone that suggests that she’s not sorry at all.  “President’s orders.”
Damn it.  With her next refutation dying in her throat, Amy folds her arms over her chest, studying her friend’s expression carefully.  There was a good chance that Rosa was just saying it was presidential orders, knowing that Amy would be unable to resist any directive that came from her superior.  But there was equally enough chance that the request had come from higher up, and refusal of the service would most definitely land her in hot water.  
In other words, Rosa had Amy exactly where she wanted her, and there was not a darn thing she could do about it.  
“Just seems like a lot for a bunch of stupid emails,”  Amy mutters, dropping down into her seat, defeated.  With a furrowed brow, Agent Boyle looks over at Rosa; but before Amy can question it, Rosa perches herself along the edge of the couch.  
“So, Peralta and Boyle will work on opposite shifts and shadow you on your day to day operations.  Additional detail has already been arranged for your home address, and all correspondence will now be cleared through us.”
“I’m also going to need the contact information for any recent or previous relationships you may have had, ma’am,” pipes up Peralta from Amy’s left, breaking out into another grin when she looks over at him.  “Gotta weed this creep out, and you’d be surprised how often they end up being much closer to home than expected."
Blinking, Amy turns back to Rosa, the extent of her security detail only now sinking in.  “A constant shadow and surveillance on my apartment?  Seriously, Rosa … this is all coming from Holt?  Can’t I just change my email address or something?”
A silence falls quickly over her office, and Amy makes special effort this time to take note of the not-so-secret looks the two agents gave each other.  A louder protest is bubbling up through her chest when Rosa stands, her sharply manicured fingers holding a document folder Amy hadn’t noticed until now, and walks towards her.  
The heavy thud of Rosa’s booted footsteps come to a stop at the side of Amy’s desk and she places the file in front of her, leaning in slightly as the folder’s contents become clear.
Photographs.  Stacks of photographs, all of Amy, and all from various parts of her very busy week.  Her heart begins to climb its way up to the base of her throat as the images begin to blur, one shot after the other of an unaware woman as she lunches with friends, visits the gym, drives to her brother’s house and - oh god - even gets changed at home near what she’d always considered to be a relatively protective curtain.  
Leaning in, Rosa’s voice drops to a whisper.  “The boys haven’t seen those last ones, but they know they exist.”  She straightens, returning to her regular volume.  “All of these were on a USB that was delivered to us from an unconfirmed address, and arrived early this morning.  Peralta and Boyle have been pulled in to oversee the operation, and I will monitor from afar.  The detail starts from now, and ends once this Mr Anonymous is behind bars.  Is everyone clear?”
Numb, Amy nods without really understanding, the cotton of her tailored blazer feeling inadequate underneath her fingernails as she pulls the two sides closer together.  She feels foolish for disregarding the warning signs for so long, confused as to how out of all people, she is the one who’s become a target; terrified because if these photographs are anything to go by, she is being hunted … for god only knows what.    
A knot begins to churn in her stomach, and there’s a very good chance that she’s about to be sick.    
“Excuse me, Ms Diaz?”  Ramirez, Terry’s secretary, pops his head around the doorframe, startling Amy out of her spiralling thoughts.  “I’m sorry to interrupt, but you’re needed in the oval office.”
“Alright, I’ve gotta go, the Powers That Be have spoken.”  Rosa mumbles, scooping up the photographs on Amy’s desk and holding onto the file with her vice-like grip.  Noticing the look on Amy’s face, she stops short of her exit from the room, tipping her head towards the two men as they hover by the bookshelf.  “Listen.  I’ve put two of my best men on this case.  Peralta especially, I’ve known since our days at the academy.  They’re not going to rest until we’ve caught the bad guy, and neither will I.  Got it?”
Amy gives her friend a tentative smile, taking her message to heart.  If there was anybody that could shut this mess down, it was Rosa ‘I could kick your ass with my pinky finger’ Diaz.  
With one final glance towards her two agents, Rosa swivels on her heel, leaving Amy’s office in silence.  The sound of one of Amy’s favourite tchotchkes hits the floor, dropping out of Peralta’s fidgeting fingers, and he cringes.  “Yikes.  Sorry about that, it just looked like one that I -”
Jumping out from behind her desk, Amy snatches the item out of the agent’s hands, running the edge of her thumb along it’s familiar curves before carefully returning it to it’s original position.  “Please don’t break my belongings, Peralta.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“If I may, Ms Santiago … what Special Agent Diaz told you was correct.  Peralta and I are here to keep you out of harm’s way, and it’s only going to be a matter of time before we catch him in the act.”  Standing to her right, Amy finds herself surprised at the gentleness of Boyle’s tone, and she eyes him curiously before nodding.  
Leaning his weight against one of the lower bookshelves, Peralta slides his sunglasses off, face turning slightly more somber, and Amy blinks in surprise.  “You have our word.”  His eyes were surprisingly warm, a kind of chocolatey brown that seemed to draw Amy in, and her arms fall away from their defensively crossed position across her chest.  
“Alright.  Thank you.  This is just … a lot.”  Her stomach twists again, and even though this time it feels less like she’s about to be sick, Amy really doesn’t want to take any chances.  “If I leave this office, you two are going to follow me, aren’t you?”
“Just around the perimeters of the hallway, Ms Santiago.  And only Peralta - I’m going to stick around and see if I can trace where these emails are coming from.”  
“Consider me your shadow, ma’am.”  Jake grins, and Amy feels an odd mixture of irritation and anticipation run through her.  “And, look.  I can already tell what you’re thinking.”  Pushing his weight off of the bookshelves, he gestures vaguely with his hands.  “You’re thinking this is going to be all longing glances and secret earpiece conversations … me carrying you in my arms as I race you away from the danger, you running out of planes at tarmacs to give me one last kiss goodbye … you know, all the standard bodyguard stuff.”
Rolling her eyes towards the ceiling, Amy feels a knot of tension leave her shoulders, but she’s not quite ready to laugh yet.  “Yes.  You’re right.  That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“Knew it, nailed it.  Well I’m sorry to disappoint you ma’am, but this stuff is nothing like the movies.  It shouldn’t really be any more than a few weeks, just need to catch this weirdo out and let the law take care of the rest.”  He pauses, glancing over at Agent Boyle before continuing.  “Which … will be made all the more faster with your co-operation.  Including the details of people who may have had closer access to you than others.”
Sighing, Amy presses the tip of her index finger against the middle of her brow, a nervous tick that has long since become habit.  This guy really needed to stop calling her ma’am.  “Fine.  Teddy Wells was my last boyfriend, but we broke up several months ago.  I highly doubt that he’s the one you’re looking for.”
“We really need to look into all avenues, Ms. Santiago,”  Agent Boyle interjects, and for the first time Amy notices how the beige colour of his tie is almost a perfect match to his skin tone.  
“Fine.”  Leaning down, she scribbles Teddy’s phone number onto a new post-it, thrusting it in Agent Peralta’s direction.  “See for yourself.  Better yet, invite him out for a drink.  He’s got some real interesting stories, especially about beer.  One could almost say, he’s got ‘the cheers for the beers’, you know?”
(She knows that she’s setting Peralta up for a trap, all too familiar with endless nights listening to Tedford ‘Thrills for the Pils’ Wells.  But there was much too much bravado seeping out of every pore of this guy, and he deserved to suffer - if only just a little.)
“Huh, a beer guy.   Noice.”
Amy stifles her grin, tucking her pen back into the pocket of her blazer as she heads towards the doorway, ignoring the echo of Peralta’s footsteps behind hers.  “Now if you’ll excuse me, gentlemen … I have a hundred or so meetings to attend.”
“Just one last thing, ma’am.”  Agent Peralta interjects, and Amy turns in time to watch him drop one shoulder in an obvious attempt at Dramatic Effect.  
The edge of his mouth lifts into a smirk, and the ridiculous sunglasses that have inexplicably returned to his face despite the sunlight pouring in through the surrounding windows (she thinks, perhaps, entirely for the purpose of his next move) slide down his prominent nose.  “No matter what happens, you’re not allowed to fall in love with me.”
The urge to roll her eyes again is almost unbearable, but she is a professional if nothing else, and so Amy puts on her best smile and nods at the suited man in front of her.  
“Won’t be a problem.”
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swedisheek · 4 years
Text
an explanation for a soulmate
(inspired by @inkskinned and also my own bullshit)
the concept of doing one thing for forever is one i do not like.
to rewrite a poem until perfect-
my hands are already flying across the keys, pressing buttons with no rhyme or reason to them and making a sunset, a first snowfall, your hand on my back, a squirrel in a window, broken glass on the study floor, laughter in dark and secret places, the wet grass that accompanies a new day, a new life. my heart is made of sorrowful and soulful things, and so is it any wonder that they sometimes blend, is it so strange that i would compare our love to corpses and hungry animals and horrid things from anatomy textbooks, and yet also lavender and holy light and freshly picked fruit? the rose and its thorns are inseparable, my dear, these are things we know and yet forget so easily.
to study a text until the pages are worn-
my eyes are already four paragraphs ahead of the teacher’s, but my mind has left me on wings of association, flown from a window, birds in an airport, there’s a horse loose in a hospital! my mother lost her wallet in an airport once, and i remember the numb, timeless feeling of waiting. i half-read the signs on all the kiosks until my eyes nearly bled, and when my cousin (who, funnily enough, does look a bit like john mulaney) asked me what i was doing, i told him i was letting my brain go, a magician freeing his doves from a silk hat.
to practice a song until each note is right-
my fingers stumble as they dance like they’ve had a bit too much wine, the scales and arpeggios blending into the solfeggieto blending into the good omens theme and killer queen and lady stardust and my father pokes his head in and tells me that it isn’t all the way, but what would be the point of all the way when all the way takes time, time you do not have when you know you’re already a large chunk of the way through your short, short life. nihilistic or realistic, you won’t know until the end of it all, and that not-knowing is horrifying and awe-inspiring, deserving of sweeping symphonies and moments of silence and all the funny little things we do to respect our inevitable end.
even now-
i’m meant to be doing a theatre assignment, but that turned into messaging an online friend, which then became reading a poem and wanting to encapsulate that yearning feeling, catch it like a third-grader grabbing at fireflies, and the poem i started in response to that urge was going to be about how i love you like no one else and i could study you for hours because you, angel, you are a puzzle that i could put together a thousand times and each end result would be something different yet even more impossibly beautiful than the last, but my brain, my flyaway brain, hooked onto the rhythm of a poem about chaos, and thinking, and some strange brand of apologetic love, and now i am humming a tune i don’t know as my typing speeds faster than the computer can manage to transcribe, and this poem is beginning to sound like a goldfish swimming in repetitive circles around its bowl, making and consequently getting sucked into a whirlpool-
and maybe this poem is a poem, and maybe it’s an animal where an animal Should Not Be, and maybe it’s a breeze that ruffles a dove’s feathers or a blade of grass or a surgery scar or a chain-link fence or a heartbeat or maybe it’s the only way i know how to say please understand, love, i’m going so fast that i cannot keep up, maybe it’s my spinning-at-a-standstill way of saying i adore you so furiously, ardently, desperately, even if i sometimes fly so far away you cannot hear me say it.
and maybe it’s just a poem, and maybe i should stop writing so i can go set the table for dinner before this just-a-poem is too pretentious and my mother has to ask me again.
love always,
-ros
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who are your ocs?
Good question! For now, I'm putting my god ocs here. (please don't hate they were for a story I thought of-)
Phoarus: He's kind and tends to be impulsive. On the outside, he has a lot of self esteem. Phoarus is mature and calm. But on the inside, the god of blessings is...childish sometimes. Phoarus also falls in love too easily. (What you can do to make him fall in love is, well, he's interested in people who wear tight clothing i'm sorry ;-; but he also likes how kind the person is.) This guy doubts himself a lotta times. So he wants someone to be there for him. His interests are books, history, animals, biology, art, and getting into new interests.
Kuxesis: Ah, the god of joy. Kuxesis is adorable! I'm sure you'll love him. Kuxesis looks like a feminine male on the outside. He is a HUGE optimist! He tends to be oblivious to flirting and any forms of affection from someone he's not dating. On the inside, the god of joy feels a constant need to check up on people to see if they're alrightc if they're eating, if they're healthy. He doesn't even think of himself much! You gotta love him. or else. *death glare, then normal smile* eh? eh? Kuxesis' type of person...Someone loving and someone who reminds the god of joy to think about himself sometimes. Someone who will appreciate him not just for his optimism. He also likes taller peopel (he's 5'10) and a more serious person. Kuxesis' interests are art, magic, history, animals, fashion, food, rollerskating, and learning about pretty much anything
Qhikros: Ugh, this guy. Typical bad boy. Not really. But yeah. He's got a seriously horrible-ish personality! The god of revenge's expressions are just deadpan expressions. He finds it hard to show emotion. People often insult him and he responds with, something like, "Oh, ok." Some others have fought him oved his response...Anyways. Yeah...unbelievable, right? Qhikros, on the outside, seems cold and boring. Most people don't like him for this. On the inside, the god of revenge is asking a lot of questions to himself. "Why now?" "What did I say?" Qhikros likes people who are optimistic and adorable. He likes people who are shorter than him. What can I say, I guess he just doesn't like being shorter. Qhik's interests are history, animals, food, art, crime cases, mystery, reading, and psychology.
Thatrix: Ah, the god of ghosts. On the outside, she's cunning and quite annoying and pulls some unfunny and funny pranks. But on the inside she does this to push people away because she's afraid she'll get too attached and then they'll hurt her. Or worse, she'll hurt them. Trix likes people who can keep up with how annoying she is. She likes people who like her for her. She wants someone who knows that she'd never hurt anyone. Thatrix likes people who understand her and accept her. Her interests are crime cases, horror stories, food, graveyards, mystery, and history.
Nytrix: This bitch...she's somewhat similar to Thatrix. Except she's less rude and shes the goddess of trickery. On the outside, she's flirty and annoying. She also pulls a lot of pranks. Ny steals stuff sometimes, mostly money or food. On the inside, she just wants someone to like her for once. nytrix likes nice people who are accepting. She also likes hot people. Ny really needs someone that will remind her that they love and appreciate her. Nytrix's interests are videogames, crim cases, mystery, horror, food, fashion, and animals.
Mayo: Ah, yes. the transgender (mtf) goddess of hope. On the outside, Mayo doesn't really talk much. She's sensitive and has a slight lack of self-worth. Mayo tends to be seen as quite helpless or dependent. If anything, she's more of a follower than a leader. On the inside, she wishes she could be more independent and leader-like. The goddess of hope is always hoping she doesn't have to lack self-worth anymore. Mayo wants someone who can remind her how much she's worth. Actually, no, she NEEDS that kind of person. She needs someone to accept her for her. Mayo's interests are anime, manga, videogames, animals, food, reading, skateboarding, and clothing.
Diara: Diara is the goddess of souls. On the outside, she doesn't really seem to fall in love easily. Except she does. She's quiet and mostly serious. but on the inside, she's just wondering what people think about her. Dia is also worrying about Phoarus and if he's still alright after losing someone he loved, and she was a redhead named Erelia. Dia and Phoarus are like siblings in my opinion. Anyways...Diara likes people who are bold and have a lot of self esteem. She likes people who think they know how much they're worth. But if someone lacks those qualities, that's ok. She'll be there to remind you how much you're worth. The goddess of souls' interests are art, weapons, history, cats, cooking, baking, books, and stuffs about weather.
Inos: The god of the sea is, on the outside, serious, blunt, and just mean in general. But on the inside, he's taking away people's self worth so he can have his own. Inos likes people who have a lot of money. He also likes people that remind him how much he's worth so he'll at least stop bullying people. His interests are weapons, crime cases, history, insects, reptiles, stars, the ocean, and psychology.
Shustus: The god of fertility is flirty and goddamn is he hot. He smells like chocolate for some reason. Shustus, on the outside is surprisingly really nice and of course, flirty. But on the inside, he’s wondering if he’s weirding anyone out. He tries so hard not to but ends up doing that on accident. Shustus likes people who know how to cook. He’s…kinda bad at that. He also likes people who are good in bed super nice and can keep up with his flirtiness. Shustus’ interests are music, food, biology, animals, nature, and money.
Aione: Aione is the god of forgiveness. Poor guy… cause on the outside he’s shy and mostly nervous a lot of times. On the inside, he worries a lot about things. “Do they hate me?” “Will my future be really bad?” “Will I disappear someday?” poor guy :( Aione wants someone who can remind him how much he’s worth. And someone who can give good advice. His interests are books, stars, movies, food, animals, music, art, and psychology.
Lazziar: Lazziar is hot asf. He’s the god of promise. promise to marry me pls He smells like lavender. On the outside, he’s attractive. A lot of people like him! On the inside, Lazziar worries a lot about what people think of him. Osekreis has to tell him not to worry all the time. Laz likes people who know how to cook and have interests similar to his. The god of promise’s interests are stars, astrology, astronomy, cats, music, art, theatre kid memes, and food.
Osekreis: The goddess of freedom is a redhead who’s shy and helpful on the outside. She gives kinda good advice. And she smells like strawberries. On the inside, though, she thinks that she doesn’t give good enough advice. She wonders if the advice was actually helpful. The goddess of freedom’s interests are music, food, insects, the sky, stars, anatomy, history, art, and school memes.
Miria: Miria is the goddess of doubt. On the outside, she doubts people and what they can or can’t do. On the inside, she’s just afraid of people doubting her. Miria smells like oranges for some reason. Miria likes people who doubt themselves because then she has someone to talk to and she can make them feel better. Helping people makes Miria happy. Her interests are guns, weapons, stars, horror, ghosts, mystery, history, and books.
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dreamsafterhours · 4 years
Text
college boyfriend!markhyuk au series: II (mark’s pathway)
a universe in which roommates!markhyuk meet each other's s/o in class
markhyuk are roommates, my/n and dy/n are roommates, mark and dy/n take classes together and so do donghyuk and my/n — how will their fates intertwine?
genre: fluff, some angst pairing: platonic!donghyuk+my/n, surprise visit from mark format: dotpoint AU universe: non idol, college best friend warning: a lil swearing (best get used to it)
masterlist
or click here to continue your friendship with eng lit!mark!
I ⇤ | II | ⇥ III
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II: relationship consolidation.. it’s platonic i swear
the fellowship continues (donghyuk + my/n)
hello again
are we ready
ever-ready i’m going whether u r or not lol idc you’re COMING
aight so ;;, donghyuk,
this boi,,
to meet someone new who he sees as almost a personal challenge,, to befriend and get to That Point™ in the friendship where you can talk about anything and everything without judging each other
he doesn’t have many friends that he can do that with tbh,, , he does have a lot of friends and people he knows and has conversed with but not a lot of friends he can crack jokes with and know they don’t take it personally
lots of dark humour and sometimes suggestive ones and political jokes and all that shit ,, intellectual puns and suicidal jokes,,, the lot
the basics for gen z humour right
he just wants someone to talk to and explore different concepts and abstract meanings and philosophical questions and get new perspectives on things he’d never thought about before
but also be able to say “ah fuck me upside down” without it actually affecting the relationship bc you’re just that close
sometimes it’s hard to have that relationship with the predominantly straight boys he surrounds himself with a lot of the time
and he’s always wondered what it’d be like to have a female friend like that and unfortunately he hasn’t befriended anyone and gotten to that point yet that he can ask genuine questions for the female point of view on certain topics
so meeting you,, and finding out you’re going for the same faculty after your undergrad course ,,,. then you being genuinely comfortable with him and his jokes and openly willing to accept his humour
he’s like /exclamation point appears above his head/
will this be The One™
so he lowkey ,, unintentionally,, in the process of getting to know you
develops a smol crush on you
it’s unintentional but he can’t help the fact that he falls in love really quickly but is also capable of getting over people fairly quickly if they don’t reciprocate his feelings and seems to be okay with that
but who can blame him for liking you??
you’re really damn cute
and genuinely good company
when he hinted that you could get married and have children in the future,,
his thought process was that ahaha i’m kidding.. unless?
so yes he was flirting but like ,, experimental flirting
and over the next couple of weeks he continues flirting with you
random lines like
“hey you look familiar, have i taken a class with you before?” he literally said this on the second day of classes with you
you honestly thought he was being genuine and actually didn’t remember you so you were like wait what ??? you literally walked me to my next class yesterday../? how? do you forget that??
and then he pulls a
“really? i swear we had chemistry” hand stroking his invisible beard
and then laughing at your reaction when you deadpan
“it was biology, donghyuk”
and sometimes u keep having that thought that u had in the middle of ur first lecture together, how he’s probably like this with everyone and he can easily befriend anyone else he’s probably gonna end up being those people that you know vaguely
but then you realise he’s been waiting in the same spot outside the lecture theatre every morning and afternoon, leaning on the wall, and looking up occasionally
smiling when he finds you in the crowd, picking up his bag from the floor and making his way over to you to walk into the lecture together
and you decide hm? he sticks around, i’ll stick around
on a separate occasion in some study session he’s like
“are you my appendix because i have no idea how you work, but the feeling in my stomach makes me want to take you out”
and you’re like “wow looks like you went ahead in the course donghyuk we don’t have human anatomy until next year. but how’s tmr at 7”
“perfect i’ll pick you up wear something nice”
hold
and then he bURSTS OUT LAUGHING and HOLLERING and yelling about how that was a good one tho right
you’re both in this sort of grey area where neither of you know where this is going
the reason he’s been saying all these things is to see what you were comfortable with in conversation and trying to analyse from your reaction whether or not you were actually flirting back or not
he’s ranted to mark in his dorms about it a couple times ,,
and so have you with your roommate
you return to your dorm after a day of doing a lot of back and forth semi flirting with donghyuk and you collapse onto your bed
your roommate looks over from her desk like “u good bro”
"i’m confused”
“fair enough”
“seriously idk if this kid is actually flirting with me or whether he’s practising on me or what”
“is this the donghek boi”
“yeah donghyuk” aka your future s/o yEET
you sit up and look at her
“uk what he said to me today”
she turns in her chair to face you fully,, ready for the tea
so you tell her the pickup line he came up with that day & your response to it and then his reaction to that bc he always seems to go for it but then tap out afterwards when you actually respond
and now you’re thinking,, do you really like him as more than a friend ??
and its???
so ?confusing to you
if you can’t tell if you like him for sure then you probably don’t, romantically
but then what effect are your responses having on him
what he actually does like you and all those flirty comments are genuine??? and you’re /internal gASP moment/
what if you’re leading him on?? what if it’s always gonna be him initiating the flirting but you’re accepting it with insincerity?
you decide this goes entirely against your morals
and you tell this to your roommate and she goes hmm,,
if you don’t feel committed to the idea of that,, then you don’t have to feel obligated to keep it going,, be honest with him ,, draw lines if you have to .. yes leading people on is a bad thing and it’s gonna affect the friendship
but also maybe it really is just part of the humour and that’s the friendship dynamic he wants to build with you?
so you decide to sleep on it bc it’s 1am and significant choices should not be made when drowsy and you’ve lost a lot of sleep these past couple days anyway
not that you get good sleep that night anyways
meanwhile donghyuk is shrugging @ mark like
“idk bro do i like her?? or do i like the idea of having someone to say that to”
“and yes she returns the gestures but then also i don’t think she means it? do we just keep it at that and keep being friends like WHAT IF I CATCH FEELINGS”
and mark is just staring at him like dude idk don’t ask me
“you’re so bad at giving advice mark”
but you wake up the next morning and decide to have a serious conversation with him after class bc that day you have a free hour after your lecture
it’s all you can think about during the class so you’re kinda distracted plus the partial sleep deprivation is getting to you
and he notices so he’s like
“bro u alright?”
so you just think fuck it and go
“hey real talk tho”
“ya”
“maybe i’ve been overanalysing this so,, tell me if i am but”
“sure”
“do you ,,, actually mean all those pickup lines ,, like are they based off, , real feelings or is this just part of the friendship dynamic”
and you’re almost surprised when he gets serious with you
he’s always been so lighthearted and sarcastic about things
but when he listens to your side of things and how you’re worried about whether or not you’ve been leading him on or something
he lets you finish and just tells you his feelings as well
“i’ve always wondered what it’d be like to have that dynamic and i guess i tried it on you without being honest ,, half to see if you would flirt back and half to just joke around ,;; i’m sorry that you got confused but i guess this means you don’t have? romantic feelings?”
so you have to reply honestly
“not necessarily ,, it’s been fun to have these conversations and laugh at pickup lines but”
“nothing behind it right”
“..yeah”
and instead of putting a damper on the atmosphere
it’s actually
refreshing
it clears the air in a way you didn’t expect
“right? nah it’s fun what we have going”
and you agree
aside from the confusion behind the flirting it’s been really fun talking to him and getting to know him
half of him was a lil disappointed that it didn’t go the romantic path but then again he wasn’t sure he had romantic feelings anyway
so he settles for
The Best Friend™
and so the friendship turns into sibling-like teasing and petty arguing from that day onwards
legit you’ll catch him staring
“what” “wHat” “what u lookin at” “whAt U loOkIn At” “stop copying me” “sToP CoPYinG mE” /you slap his arm/ “oW”
whimpers a lil clutching his arm uwu babie
“you hit harder than the bass drop”
sending each other bio memes and yelling at each other to go commit lysis
“lysosomes can take you out because you’re TRASH”
“i would send a macrophage after you you PATHOGEN”
calling him a parasite when he asks u for notes that he missed in class but it happens vice versa anyways lmfao
then one morning lab class he forgets his pencil case in his dorm like he forgot his laptop on the first day
except this time you call him a forgetful dumbass
all while offering a pencil from your own pencil case
which he takes
so he calls his roommate who “has a noon class and is probs still sleeping lol” to ask him if he can bring it down for him bc he’s got more lab classes that day
so after the class you wait outside the building for his roommate to arrive
and when he does he gives you a rlly nice smile and says “ʰᶦ”
“oh hello”
“yes this is my adoptive younger sister and my/n this is my roommate the Elder”
“ah you’re overreacting” the roommate turns to you and u ,, gotta admit ,
he’s really cute ,,, “don’t listen to anything donghyuk says, all he does is lie”
“hEY i am a SINCERE MEMBER OF CIVILISATION”
the roommate points to donghyuk again and goes “see he’s even lying about being civil”
so you laugh and gang up on donghyuk like “oh i saw through him a long time ago”
“wow he even lied about how” /puts up air quotes/ “ugly you AREN’T”
“wHAT”
“HE SAID IT NOT ME”
donghyuk is flabbergasted at this point
“wHEN DID I SAY THAT MY/N WAS UGLY”
“WANNA TELL ME THAT YOURSELF MR LEE DONGHYUK HUH”
which results in a sulky hyuk and you two laughing at his reaction of being Wronged™
he regrets letting u two meet in that moment
oh but we don’t
“ok u did ur mission. u can go now”
“so mean :((”
but donghyuk’s roomie waves at you while turning to leave and you wave back ,,
trying to calm yourself bc you’re highkey feeling kinda hot ur cheeks r burning up
he said ?? donghyuk was lying when he said u were ugly?
damn
donghyuk’s pickup lines had never been direct compliments about you
but this one from his roommate wasn’t a pickup line it was just
a statement
and it made u feel a typa way
dw baby it’s gonna be a happy ending uwu
and u tell ur roomie that night abt it too
“bRO his rOOMMATE”
“what’s his NAME i gotta FANGIRL WITH YOU”
“.. idk”
“.. oh”
/short pause, lip smack/
“.. lib tomorrow?”
“.. ya sure”
the next day after classes you check your phone and see that she’s texted you asking if her friend and his friend from eng lit can come and join you guys in the lib
and, naturally, u don’t see why not
so u reply
“the more the merrier”
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the more the merrier for us too sweetie hmm hmm
eeeeeeéeeeeeèeeeeee
mhm mhm mhm it’s finally getting somewhere
click here to continue your friendship with eng lit!mark!
I ⇤ | II | ⇥ III
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citylightsbooks · 4 years
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Signaling Through the Flames: Barbara Jane Reyes, Author of Invocation to Daughters
During this time of uncertainty, we’ve asked City Lights authors how they’re doing, what they’re reading, and any advice they have for our community. Their responses have been very inspiring to us, and we hope that sharing them will inspire you as well.
“Signaling Through the Flames” gets its title from Lawrence Ferlinghetti’s timeless work, Poetry As Insurgent Art, which beings with the line, “I am signaling you through the flames …” This line is, in turn, taken from Antonin Artaud in his landmark book The Theatre and Its Double, in which he says  “If there is still one hellish, truly accursed thing in our time, it is our artistic dallying with forms, instead of being like victims burnt at the stake, signaling through the flames.” Follow the hashtag #SignalingThruTheFlames across all our platforms on social media to follow the complete series.
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City Lights: Where are you?
West Oakland.
What books make you feel inspired? 
Xyza Cruz Bacani, We Are Like Air. Amanda Ngoho Reavey, Marilyn. Marianne Chan, All Heathens. Monica Ong, Silent Anatomies. Audre Lorde, Sister Outsider. Linda Hogan, Dwellings. Leslie Marmon Silko, Storyteller. Diane di Prima, Revolutionary Letters. 
What gives you hope in this moment? (And/or what are you thankful for?)
Thankful for: Family. Walking and hiking. Teaching. Home cooking. Quiet.  
Any advice that you’d like to share with our community?
Unplug if you have to. Grieve if you need to. Be good to yourself and those around you.
***
Barbara Jane Reyes is the author of Invocation to Daughters (City Lights Spotlight Poetry Series, 2017). She was born in Manila, Philippines, raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, and is the author of four previous collections of poetry, To Love as Aswang (Philippine American Writers and Artists, Inc., 2015), Gravities of Center (Arkipelago Books, 2003), Poeta en San Francisco (Tinfish Press, 2005), which received the James Laughlin Award of the Academy of American Poets, and Diwata (BOA Editions, Ltd., 2010), which received the Global Filipino Literary Award for Poetry. She is also the author of the chapbooks Easter Sunday (Ypolita Press, 2008) Cherry (Portable Press at Yo-Yo Labs, 2008), and For the City That Nearly Broke Me (Aztlán Libre Press, 2012). Her forthcoming book is Letters to a Young Brown Girl, being published by BOA Editions, Ltd. in September 2020.
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jawnjendes · 5 years
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no one can replace me | shawn mendes
university au SUMMER, shawn x goth gf/oc
masterlist | playlist
**let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist
Days off were meant for sleeping in and being comfortably lazy. I slept until 2PM, far later than I ever slept before, and I felt anything but comfortable. The only productive thing I did was move myself from the bed to the couch in the living room, taking the massive comforter with me. Shawn wasn't home, so I was able to binge as much Grey's Anatomy in order to fill the void in my chest as I could. I really thought I would be able to sleep off the void…
I was lying on my side, a dead look on my face, but I was still invested in a particularly emotional episode. As sad as it was to see Jo Karev's life fall to pieces, it felt almost cathartic to cry over that than my own crap. I cried a lot these days, it was very unlike me. However, I still made sure to keep it private. I didn't want my boyfriend worrying about me anymore than he already did.
It was after 5 o’clock when I heard the lock on the front door jiggle, indicating that Shawn was home. I quickly grabbed the remote and switched to some 90s cartoon. The swift movement of reaching for the remote on the table was a deep contrast compared to how I’ve been all day, so it left me winded and fatigued. Although, the fatigue wasn’t just from moving or the cuts on my belly. I couldn’t even sit up to greet my boyfriend.
Shawn seemed unfazed by my potato state as his footsteps were constant through the apartment. His steps got closer, and I saw him standing by me from my peripherals. Wordlessly, Shawn placed a black gift back on the coffee table, directly in front of my line of vision.
The bag was shiny, and had purple tissue paper sticking out of the top. Just the sight of it caused my brows to knit together.
“Why…?” I asked, my voice unnaturally soft.
“It’s a peace offering,” Shawn explained, “and it’s also an anniversary gift. Come on, sit up.”
I didn’t need the help anymore, but Shawn still went to my side and supported my waist as I sat up straight. Then, I leaned over and grabbed the gift bag, pulling out the tissue. Inside was a red box with the white Nintendo Switch logo on. I pulled it out and discovered a pro controller, and my mouth fell open. This was the limited edition, white controller with the Princess Zelda design. I was rendered speechless.
“We hit six months a couple of weeks ago,” Shawn explained. “I think you were in surgery, so we missed it. And I know you love Zelda, and I know you’ve mentioned this controller before.”
“How many oversized bears did you have to fight to get this?” I finally asked.
Shawn laughed. “Well, it was the last one at EB Games. I saw one guy looking at it when I walked in, so I snatched it when he wasn’t looking.”
A small smile creeped up on my face as I stared at the controller in wonder. It was a sweet gesture, given the absolute bullshit that happened yesterday. “Thank you. I can’t wait to use it.” Then I placed the box back on the table. “I have something for you too.”
“You do?” Shawn smiled, pleasantly surprised.
I nodded and got up from the couch. I felt bad about how our sixth month was spent, even if it was all out of our control. Obviously, there was no time to get him a gift like what he had gotten me, but I did have something in mind. I didn’t think we would still be here for this to happen.
I found my black, tattered wallet and went back out to the living room. As cliche and cheesy as it was, I had to say a few words before presenting the thing. “I’m not gonna lie, my pessimistic ass and my mile high walls made me think we wouldn’t make it this far.”
“Good start,” Shawn replied, mildly amused.
“But,” I continued, “I’m glad I was proved wrong, so uh…” I unzipped my wallet and poked around through one of the credit card pockets.
“You’re giving me money?”
“Shut up.”
It took a minute to get the tiny item out of the tight pocket, but I got it. I presented Shawn with a red guitar pick. The label on it had scratched off long ago, but that’s okay. It wasn’t about the condition of the pick.
“A long time ago, I saw Rise Against in concert,” I told him. “It was… honestly, probably one of the happiest days of my life. I went with my cousin, and she convinced me to mosh our way to the barriers. We did, and I got hit in the face on the way, but we made it to the front. I had a nosebleed, and the lead singer noticed that. He actually saw blood all over my face, and he gave me his pick.” I paused. “That pick means a lot to me, and you mean a lot to me, so I figured I should put those two things together.”
Shawn was looking at the pick in the palm of his hand as he listened to my story. The smile on his face only grew with every word, and he was beaming when he finally met my eyes. Then, he stood up, towering over me with open arms.
“I love it, and I love you.” He gently cupped my face and pulled me in for a kiss.
Feeling his lips against mine brought back certain feelings I hadn’t felt in a hot minute. My arms went around his middle, gently scrunching up the back of his t-shirt and feeling the skin underneath. Shawn smiled against my lips.
“Mm, so we’re celebrating our anniversary today?” I asked when we broke apart.
“I guess we are,” he replied, twirling a strand of my hair between his fingers. “What do you wanna do?”
“Quiet night in?” I suggested, wiggling my eyebrows.
He thought about it. “Well… we spend a lot of time between these walls. How about a movie?”
That threw me off a little bit. Shawn never said no to spending the night together between the sheets. But he was right though, we needed to get out of this apartment. “Yeah, we can do a movie.”
~
As much of a homebody as I am, it felt nice to leave the apartment for a little bit. It felt good to doll myself up for a date night. I missed carving out my eyebrows and wearing black eyeshadow. I missed wearing my long, black cardigan and combat boots.
Shawn and I went to the theatre downtown and caught the newest Disney film, on his choosing. That was only because the last time we went to the movies, I made the choice. The last time we went to the movies was also when I started feeling pain, but I didn’t want to bring that up.
I stayed away from literally every food offered at the theatre, and not just because of my mandatory diet. Shawn didn’t eat anything either, so I wasn’t alone. That gave us more time to cuddle on the fancy reclining seats in the theatre. It was pretty much what we would do at home, except we were bound by society’s rules to stay quiet for the duration of the movie.
It was a lovely time. Going to the movies was the one thing to get us out of our heads for a little bit. We didn’t have to talk, we could just be with each other. The mood was light and sweet, and it followed us back into the car.
But, you know… light and dark. Things are always balanced.
Shawn turned on the radio as soon as he roared the car to life. Of course, of fucking course, the Halsey song of my nightmares (as opposed to Nightmare, which is a bop) was in the middle of playing. Things within me turned in a second, and everything lost its color. Half of me wanted to punch the radio into silence, and the other half wanted me to curl up in a ball and let the void take me away. Luca’s words came out of the tiny box in my mind and circled around me.
“I probably know you better than Shawn does. And you hate that, huh?”
My breathing went short again, and I could only hear that directly in my ears. I squeezed my hands into fists, trying to bring myself back to Earth.
“You’re not singing,” Shawn pointed out. “I thought you loved this song.”
I wanted to talk, wanted to explain. But we just had a good evening, and I didn’t want to cry all over it. When did I become such an emotional mess?
I shook my head in response.
He glanced at me every so often, but he kept his eyes on the road. “No, you don’t like this song?” he asked.
Once again, I shook my head.
“Okay, I’ll change it.”
The song stopped, and then Shawn reached for my hand. My mood kept on. My legs felt numb, and my hands felt tingly and weird. I walked carefully when we got back to the apartment, like I was going to dismember myself and collapse. I followed Shawn’s steps, bringing all the grey with me.
“I know you’re a quiet person,” he said as we entered the bedroom, “but this is just weird. Are you okay?”
This would be something I’d take up with Callie, but I was no longer her patient. That was on my own doing, so I couldn’t be mad. There were a lot of feelings built up in my chest, and I couldn’t name a majority of them. That was why I needed Callie.
I also needed to bring my spirit back into my body. Without thinking, I slammed the palm of my hand on the bedroom door. The loud smack! startled Shawn, but the sting caused me to make a face and ground me once again.
“Sorry,” I mumbled. “I felt like I was floating…”
He was just as speechless. “Uh… do you - should I…?”
“I don’t know what’s wrong,” I told him, my eyes still staring off into space. “I mean, I do, but… I don’t.”
“Should I be worried?” he asked.
“No?”
“Did something happen?”
“Yes?”
“Okay, let’s start there.”
We sat at the foot of the bed. Shawn gave me an expectant look, but I was still silent for a moment. Perhaps I was just overreacting and being a little too dramatic.
“I had a conversation with Luca,” I started, suddenly hesitant. “Nothing bad, just… I don’t know.”
“What did he do?” Shawn asked. “I know you said not to worry, but I’m a little worried.”
I explained the inexplicably off putting conversation I had with Luca, rubbing my hands together sporadically. It was probably confusing without know our entire history, but that was a whole other spiel. They say talking it out helps, but I just felt like I was getting crazier by the second. I felt like I was just overreacting.
“Listen,” Shawn said when I finished rambling, “I don’t love that he knows you so well either. I definitely don’t love what most of your relationship consisted of. But you’ve known each other for a couple of years, much longer than you and I have known each other. He’s just trying to get to you.”
“I know. He loves to challenge me. Normally, I don’t care, and I’m used to it, but this one fucked me up.”
Shawn nodded. “Is that why you slept most of the day?”
“Was it that obvious?”
“I can tell when you’re sleep deprived now. Like, you wear a lot of black, but you look… comfortable and at peace with it. When you're tired, or sad... you look like the world ended."
He held his hand open on my lap, and I laced our fingers together. Was this a weird situation? Was it weird to talk about your ex to your current person?
“Can I tell you something?” Shawn asked after a minute.
“Yeah.” I had to stop myself from sounding too eager. At this point, I’d give anything to not talk about me and my shit anymore. I think I was thinking too hard about this whole thing.
He shifted a little bit, the way one does when they’re about to drop some scalding tea. “When I was seventeen, I dated this girl. Well, I thought I was dating her. She asked me to be her boyfriend, but the only time we spent together was in the backseat of her car, or at her house when her parents weren’t home. She really didn’t want much from me, apart from the obvious.”
“She was playing you,” I replied.
“And I one hundred percent knew it,” Shawn added with a chuckle. “But I really liked her, so I let her do what she wanted. I guess you could say that’s one reason why I was never in a serious, stable relationship until now. It’s like you say, I couldn’t trust anyone.”
That was certainly a side of Shawn I hadn’t heard of. He told me he didn’t have much experience with his love life. Then, I found out he slept around much like I did. Now, I found out he had his own version of Luca. Why was I labeled the mysterious one?
“How come you never told me this before?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “We all have things we don’t talk about. I’m sure there’s still things you haven’t told me.”
“Yeah… yeah, that’s true.”
“So just know, you’re not the only one with a toxic ex. I know how you feel.”
At least he doesn’t work with his ex. At least his anxiety wasn’t intensified to the point of isolation and self destruction. Plus, it was easier for Shawn to open up than it was for me. His heart was in the right place, though. His big, warm heart made my stone cold one beat a little faster, I knew that much.
"You know how powerless you are being with someone like that," I said without realizing what I was doing.
"Yeah," he said. "You know they're not good for you, they only want you at their convenience, but you'd do anything for them."
Oof, he really does know.
"But," he added, "it feels so much better when you're finally free of them. And it feels fucking great to be in a much better place than they are. Realizing you deserve better is like waking up from a bad dream."
"It's like coming up for fresh air."
Shawn looked at me, eyes sparkling. He now held my hand in both of his. "Meeting you was like coming up for fresh air."
I smiled, and placed my one free hand over his. "I know that quote is from Grey's, you can't fool me."
"Hey, can I not relate heavily to the words of Derek Shepherd?" he said with a laugh.
He wasn't wrong. I related a lot of lyrics from his own songs, but I could tell him that another time.
_____
taglist: @normalcyisoverrated-beyou @mendesromano @ilsolee @1-800-khalid-mendussy 
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vetdownunder · 5 years
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The Anatomy of Vet School
Most of my posts from the past year have been about my final year rotations and my experiences in each. Someone recently asked me to explain what rotations actually are and what they involve. I thought I’d take this opportunity to demystify the structure of vet school to any aspiring vet students out there. The following is based on my course in Australia, a 5 year combined undergraduate (Bachelor of Science, BSc) and postgraduate (Doctor of Veterinary Medicine, DVM) degree, although many vet schools follow a similar system.
FIRST YEAR
Who am I and what am I doing here?
First year is, to put it bluntly, a bit of a waste of time. It comprises basic foundation units which are not at all veterinary related. I had cell biology, statistics, agriculture and even a unit called ‘What is Science?’, which left me more confused about science than before I began! I found myself twiddling my thumbs waiting for this year to be over so I could learn something relevant to my chosen profession.
The next few years of vet school are dedicated to learning (and cramming) theory - all the ‘-ologies’ (physiology, parasitology, pharmacology and so on). This is accompanied by placements, where students spend several weeks on farms and at veterinary clinics in order to gain experience in agriculture and practice. The number of placement weeks varies between courses. Mine entailed 7 weeks of farm placement and 15 weeks of clinic placement.
SECOND YEAR
What does a normal animal look like and how does it work?
Second year covers primarily anatomy and physiology, as well as microbiology, parasitology and biochemistry. My lasting memories of this year involve rote learning the names of every bump on every bone and every detail of every organ in every species, to the extent that I could draw and label the outside and inside of any animal from memory.
THIRD YEAR
What does an abnormal or diseased animal look like and how does it go wrong?
After learning the normal body inside out in second year, this year is spent learning everything that can go wrong with the body - pathology. One of my units was called ‘Systemic Pathology and Medicine’, abbreviated to SPAM, which ruined the the Monty Python sketch (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gxtsa-OvQLA) for me forever. Pathology is accompanied by radiography, pharmacology, nutrition, toxicology, behaviour, welfare, an introduction to One Health, and the basics of surgery and anaesthesia.
In my course, a research project was also launched towards the end of third year, to be conducted throughout fourth and fifth year. This is a requirement of the masters level postgraduate degree (the Doctor of Veterinary Medicine, DVM).
FOURTH YEAR
How do I fix an abnormal or diseased animal?
Fourth year is the dreaded year from hell, when students spend more time in the lecture theatre than they do at home. We often brought sleeping bags, pyjamas and kettles to class and basically moved in for the year. Lectures cover surgery, diagnostic imaging, theriogenology (reproduction) and medicine (small animal, production, equine, wildlife and exotics). This is the year when everything from the past four years starts to come together and students begin to feel like real vets.
FIFTH YEAR
Let’s give it a go!
During fifth year, students finally get to close the textbooks, step out of the lecture theatre and put all that new knowledge into action. This is the year you’re allowed all the fun of being a vet, but with just a fraction of the responsibility! It’s also the last chance to try things under supervision before you do it for real out in the big bad world. 
The final year of my veterinary course (and most others I’m aware of) primarily consists of rotations. Veterinary medicine covers an enormous range of fields compared to that of human medicine (think of all the human medical specialties and then factor in all the different species vets look after). Rotations are short (one or two week) blocks dedicated to each major field or speciality of the veterinary industry. They are designed to provide students with a foundation in all aspects of the profession. The year group is divided into small groups of around eight students which rotate between 15 different rotations (listed below). These amount to a total of 24 weeks. During these rotations, students form part of the department’s veterinary team and have the opportunity to develop their skills in each area with the guidance of experienced vets. For example, during the two week equine rotation, students may accompany vets on lameness call outs, treat a foal in the hospital, or scrub into and assist with a colic surgery. Whereas, during the two week diagnostic imaging rotation, students may position a surgery patient for stifle radiographs, evaluate an echocardiogram, or radiograph the fetlock of a lame horse.
The other component of final year is streaming. A stream is a broad division of the veterinary industry by species: small animal, production animal, equine, mixed, and wildlife and zoological medicine. Students elect one stream in which to advance their knowledge and skills during final year. This is either the field the student wishes to pursue as a graduate vet, or simply one they have an interest in. A further 12 weeks of placement is undertaken in this field during final year. I selected the wildlife and zoological medicine stream, which allowed me to research platypus in Tasmania, spend two weeks with the vets at my local zoo and participate in wildlife field operations in South Africa.
Primary care
Small animal medicine
Surgery
Anaesthesia
Diagnostic imaging
Ophthalmology, shelter, wildlife and behaviour
Emergency and critical care
Dermatology and dentistry
Equine
Production
Intensive industries
Public health
Anatomical pathology
Clinical pathology
After hours
I hope this post provides a bit of an insight into vet school and what to expect each year. To find out more about each rotation, have a read of my previous posts. As always, if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to ask.
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liberationzine · 5 years
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What is the theme of this Zine?
Dark, Mysterious, or powerful, this is a zine looking to make the best out of the already incredibly cool Paranormal Liberation Front. We want to see our villains at their worst and by that, we mean in the limelight of their villainy. Whether it’s the full blast of Power that Dabi creates with his quirk or the sheer political power that Re-Destro holds, all forms of villainous propaganda are welcome here. Help us in our endeavor to gain more followers to become truly Liberated.
Please note that this means we focus on their success and power. While many villains have despair inducing history that lead to where they are now, that is not the focus of this zine.
Zine Specs
Physical Zine with Physical Merch For profit, with funds going to production first. → If you are under the legal age for your country, you agree that you have your parents permission or are choosing to opt out of monetary compensation. Final dimensions and specs to come.
Who is running this project?
Mod Lucy: 
In charge of Graphics, Social Media, Zine Layout https://twitter.com/cmykae || https://instagram.com/cmykae
Some Previous Zine Experience
BNHA Katsukitchen Graphics, Layout, Communications
BNHA Versed in Quirky Poetry Graphics
BNHA All You Can Eat Graphics & Layout
BNHA Girl Power! Graphics & Layout
BNHA Kiribaku Holiday Graphics & Layout
MYSME Undercover Graphics
MYSME Divinate Marketing Graphics, Layout Assistant
MYSME 707hearts606 Graphics
Participated in events and zines as an illustrator
Real Life Experience
Collaborated with classmates to produce student run events: created websites to advertise events with html/css collected student designs for said events to be printed and displayed
Freelance Illustrator & Graphic Designer created illustrations for postcards and pin buttons
Proficiency in HTML/CSS, Adobe Photoshop, Adobe Indesign
Designed, printed, and assembled — single handedly —  books during her BFA : Perfect Bound, Saddle Stitch, Hand Stitched, Coil Bound, Accordion, French fold
Mod ALWINS: 21, Any Pronouns
In charge of Art Direction, Communications https://twitter.com/TTAlwins || https://www.instagram.com/ttalwins/
Experience:
Urban Legend: A DRRR!!! Fanzine: Communication, Organization*, Art Direction Finances/Marketing, Layout/Graphics. *set up the discord server, schedule, email/File templates, wrote FAQ, etc.
Check Please! A Fairy Tail Career Zine: Communications, Organization,  Art Direction, Finances, Production, Shipping, Setup, Layout.
Real life experience as a stage manager and general theatre technician at an events center strong organizational and communication skills
Freelance illustrator/Graphic designer for logo’s and full illustrations Multiple Youtube clients for full illustrations, Series logo’s, thumbnails. Has done logo’s for 3 businesses.
Commissions: Tattoo design, Book cover illustration, Character art, Traditional painting
Proficient in InDesign, Photoshop, Adobe Illustrator.
Has participated in 15+ zines knows how they work and what needs to be done and at what pace. Seen multiple strategies to make a successful project
Managed and helped develop arts conservatory program in highschool
Worked as an Arts Gallery Coordinator for my high school
Mod HapSky: 22, Any Pronouns
In charge of Production and Shipping https://twitter.com/HapSkyScribbles
Previous Zine Experience
DRRR Urban Legend: Finances, Production, Shipping, Layout Assistant
BNHA Versed in Quirky Poetry: Layout/Format
BNHA Sunshine and Moonlight: Communication, Shipping
BNHA Bubble Tea: Layout/Format
Participated in 10+ zines and events as writer
Responsible for layout/format and production of my uni’s short story anthology series:
Experienced with creating a book’s layout for printing purposes
Experience with the printers/manufacturers, as well as budgeting
Worked with 3 companies on magazines, ebooks and websites
Freelance Author: created and formatted screenplays, picture books, gamebooks, cookbooks, short story collections, poem collections
Proficient in InDesign, Photoshop
Mod Muse 21, She/Her/Hers 
In charge of Writing and Beta https://twitter.com/museflight
Previous Zine Experience
Wonder Duo Rising: Beta Mod
One in a Million: General/Head Mod
Other Fandom Experience
Modded two ‘~ month’ events
Modded gift swap
Beta for 10+ fics
Real Life Experience
Writing for eleven years
English tutoring experience
English major
Mod Vash : 20
In charge of Finances and Store https://twitter.com/bitchWithAsthma
Experience:
Currently an intern webmaster at nonprofit organization, tasked with maintaining current website and evaluating new software
Box Office Manager for 3 years: performed transactions, maintained accounts of ticket sales, handled exchanges and returns, balanced cash box and prepared nightly front of house report
Summer Camp Coordinator: managed all finances and logistics at a month long student day camp, including tracking spending, reimbursing purchases, budgeting funds and handling complaints and concerns
Financial officer for various clubs, collected member dues, kept club accounts, sold t-shirts and coordinated fundraisers
Where will the funds go?
This is a for profit zine, with the funds going to manufacturing first. Ideally, we will be able to send all contributors a full bundle, but this depends on the sales. All contributors will definitely receive the PDF file for the zine free of charge! Merchandise will definitely be offered at production cost to contributors as well.
What are the restrictions on this zine?
This zine is SFW This mean no obsessive gore or nudity. Small amounts of blood are okay! This zine will NOT have shipping Romantic/fluffy pieces will not be allowed! Please stay on theme. This zine will not include theories I.e. [ Redacted ] is the missing Todoroki child.
What are the restrictions on contributors?
All Contributors must have or be willing to make a Discord account.
Contributors retain the right to their work and can redistribute AFTER zine sales close. We will send out a notice when it is okay for contributors to do so.
You may apply for merch, writing,  AND illustration, but you will likely only be chosen for one. Please keep that in mind!
Portfolios with BnHA art is nice, but NOT required.
Traditional art is accepted, but it must be scanned in high quality and at least 300 DPI.
Additionally you must be able to adjust value/color/etc in Photoshop or give permission/work with a mod to do this.
Contributors will be picked on skill alone.
Although bigots, racists, homophobes etc. will be automatically crossed off our list :^]
Contributors will be assigned a base character and will need to clear the inclusion of other characters with a mod to ensure we don’t have, Toga for example,  in everyone’s piece. It’s just to keep track of the character diversity in the zine.
Characters from the entire Paranormal Liberation Front will be included in the zine
Characters will be assigned based on the quality of pitch delivered to their respective mods (Art mod, or Writing mod for Illustration/Merch, or Writing respectively).
Contributor REQs Show us your best art/style that you plan to use for the zine. We have a preference to see good art and writing rather than BnHA pieces. We are judging strictly on your skills as an artist!
Illustrators
We’re looking for an understanding of anatomy and design principles. Things like composition, color, perspective, hierarchy, rhythm. The application itself will ask for a medium portfolio 7-15 pieces. This can be a google drive folder, or a personal website etc. (just not a cluttered social media). Literal backgrounds are not required; however, we are still looking at your backgrounds and compositions. We’re looking for how a piece works altogether. That being said, pieces with backgrounds have higher potential as it allows detail, setting, and perspective. Please note, we love a contributor who can follow directions on 7-15 pieces.
Merch
We’re looking for similar things to the illustrators, but obviously designed for merch. If you want to make charms show us what you can do as a charm. If you want to make buttons, show us your button designs. Ideally 10+ designs, but more is welcome in your portfolio.
Writers
We’re looking for contributors with solid characterization, grammar, wordflow, and know how to convey a mood. We will be asking for three writing examples of 1k-3k. You may also include a portfolio if you so desire. Portfolios may be a direct link to your Archive of our Own account or hosted on google drive, caard, wix, or another similar website. Please do not give us a link to a tumblr tag. Examples do not need to be BNHA, but they cannot be NSFW. Show us fics similar to what you want to write for the zine. Please remember that for the zine itself, we want your pieces to feel like a form of power propaganda!
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zoebulukaki · 5 years
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Patronage in 15th and 16th Century Europe
Patronage can be considered a huge corresponding impact in changes in medium, as different patrons liked to commission and acquire different sort of artworks and that often meant using different media by different artist in order to have something unique and special, thus patronage is really important in producing the history of art. The Italy of the 15th and 16th century was very different to the Italy we know now, as we tend to think of Italy as one country, were as in the renaissance Italy was comprised of different sections. The bottom of Italy was the kingdom of Naples ruled by a king, were as in Venus they had a republic and Papal was controlled by the pop. This geographical divisions naturally lead to rivals to not only the rulers of the areas but the artists as well, however it’s those different specialisms and competing rivalry that now makes the history of the renaissance so rich and so diverse, for example in the city of Ciana there was a lot of use in gold  were as in Florence they used chalkier media. Each region had their own advances and progressions and that’s what makes them so fascinating and interesting to study. All these regions were supported by different patrons and were responsible for commissioning the artists and it’s that the history of art is lead by the commissioners and they decided what the artists could create.
In Florence the ruling patrons were the Medici family as they were pretty much through the renaissance family. They were originally a banker family thus they came from middle class and didn’t come aristocrats, however they always very culturally aware they liked the theatre, paintings, sculptures, reading and festivals. They were also interested in the new renaissance idea of humanism, they began to see that people could make a mark in the world before their end. They liked to be part of the people and stayed close to their roots.
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We can see this new interested in the work they commissioned by Botticelli ‘Adoration of the Magi’. Even though this is still religious painting its still very secular, in past painting, Mary would be portrayed in a more idealised way were here we can see them in a more realistic environment and can even see the members of the Medici family are part of the painting and even Cosimo Medici is touching the feet of baby Jesus. There is very little embarrassment in the patronage as they payed for the painting and are now part of it, even Botticelli has portrayed himself in the painting and is looking at the viewer. This painting is thought to be one of the first pyramidal composition were Josephus, Mary of Jesus are at the top of the pyramid.
Artists from Florence moved to Rome in order to be commissioned, for many new artists they had seen that drawing was an important base skill as emphasised by Botticelli, thus artist studios allowed them to learn about the anatomy or the way light influenced any art work. The importance of drawing was kept until the 20th century, after that we focused more on concept.
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One of the main artists that ensured that drawing travelled in other parts in Italy was the famous Leonardo da Vinci, he moved to Malan and found a lot of work with the patrons (royalty) in that city, however in 1499 he left back to Florence as the royalty lost their powers. In this drawing we can truly see Da Vinci’s knowledge of the human anatomy, the way our skin moved due to the shift of our bones and muscles. Because of the detail in his drawing we can feel the emotion of the drawing through the structure of his mouth and eyes.
A younger artist that took inspiration from Leonardo Da Vinci, Michelangelo and Botticelli was Raphael; he like Botticelli took love for the paramedian composition, he observed themes and trends due to these artists, from Leonardo Da Vinci the understanding of human anatomy and from Michelangelo the drama, emotion and expression in between characters. Raphael was commissioned by the same pop that had Michelangelo paint the Sistine Chapel, Pop Julius the second. The four rooms he painted had a different philosophical topic, these were based on one of the four prime areas of knowledge at the time that was valued in the renaissance, these included theology, poetry, philosophy and justice, the four pillars of knowledge.
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In this room Raphael aimed to paint philosophy, which depicted the school of Athens, since Greece is the home of Philosophy due to individuals such as Plato, Aristotle and Sophocles came from the time of Ancient Greece. In this painting we can see the real knowledge of architectural context, human anatomy, perspective and expression of emotion between the characters (the emotional pathos), he didn’t overwhelm the viewer by having all the figures in one line, instead synthesised influences from all directions in groupings of characters. In this painting we can truly see the grand power of the pops coming back and sending a message to the people through these paintings.
The power of Florence was descending as it was constantly under pressure as a republic, from nearby kingdoms in order to reap the minerals, food and important trade.  Other cities began to create new trades in industries in order to have more power in Italy, for example Venus became a very important trading centre as it was located on the coast, meaning boats arrived in Venus with silks, dyes, spices and food; while developing a speciality for creating glass which was needed by so many in Italy.
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In Carpaccio’s painting the focus of the ‘The healing of a Madman’ is not given prime importance. It represents the normal life of so many in Venus, from people travelling on their small boats, to the laundry being hanged. It created a sense of a realistic view, rather than mythical figures such as Aphrodite or religious concepts such as Jesus’ birth. Unfortunately, due to Venus being surrounded with water they had intense humidity thus artwork didn’t last well, most artist used fresco (which involved using wet plaster and powdered minerals with water). From this Venus developed painting on canvas.
One of the lead painters which used oil paints on canvas was Giorgione. Oil paints had been developed already in the Netherlands however this was in the form of a thin consistency and used on planks of wood as a glaze. The more thick oil, opaque paint that we know now was developed in Italy. Giorgione increased the use of oil paint, he believed oil paint was a great benefit to him as he had more time to work in the painting and achieve a much larger range of tone between the colours. Thus, Venus didn’t focus on drawing as much as painting, they found a new technique which left a much more glazed finished piece were as drawing didn’t have that glaze.
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Some of these pagan beliefs were passed on to other art works such as ‘Sleeping Venus’, the fact that he didn’t name her a Madonna, or a Mary showed his interest in the beliefs before Christ and Catholicism something that seemed to dictate the lives of the people. She is depicted as being very earthly and sensual, something we can accept from Venus as she was the goddess of love, she is allowing her body to be viewed, so we can appreciate this as a physical form and enjoy the curves of the female body. In composition she is presented as a reclined nude, something that we see quite often now and was seen in the ancient Greek and Roman times however was quite knew in the renaissance period. Unfortunately, Giorgione died before he could finish the painting and so his young student Titian finished it. We can see the difference in technique as the garment does have more detail make us believe we can touch the fabric.
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Titian drew this concept again changing the structure but keeping the same sense. In this painting he is again painting ‘Venus’, we can see again the sense of the fabric, every aspect has incredible detail to make us truly feel the painting. The painting has many connections to the real world at the time such as the clothing the maids are depicted in and the tiles on the floor. Iconographic symbols such as the little dog on the bed showed the loyalty this woman holds for her husband, the flowers and trees are symbolic for fertility and love. All of this is non platonic in interest, as it revives the theories of Plato, showing the earthy life here and now.
Overall, this lecture was extremely important in showing why patronage was such a essential part in art history, due to this pattern we have acquired incredibly pieces of work, which characterize the mindset of these artists.   
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lexis-lexica · 5 years
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hello hello friends. I’m mina and I am so ready for plotting so hit me up on discord or DM here to plot, or like this post and imma come to you. SORRY FOR THE PARAGRAPHS. I’m just so shitty at listing things. [ BAE SUZY & FEMALE & SHE/HER. ] that, right there, is [ ALEXIS ‘LEXI’ BLYTHE ]. the [ TWENTY-TWO ] year old has been in savannah for [ A YEAR AND A HALF ] and is known for being quite [CHARMING ] - but on bad days, while being very SELF-DESTRUCTIVE ], they seem to walk with their head low while [ I’M A MESS by BEBE REXHA ] plays through their earbuds. ( mina. 23. she/her.est )
Alexis ‘Lexi’ Blythe Age: 22 Birthday: February 27 (Pisces) Orientation: Hetero TW. Abandonment, Adoption, Parental Neglect, Alcoholism, Drug Use O1 ━◞ FAMILY - Adopted by a big-shot politican and his trust-fund socialite wife when she was a baby, Lexi never knew why they had chosen to adopt from Korea. Maybe they had just wanted the picture perfect family even though they couldn’t, or rather her father couldn’t. Maybe they wanted to show how progressive, diverse, and altruistic they were for an old money family. Nevertheless, Lexi remembers being raised by the nanny, watching Disney movies, and only seeing her parents when they needed her to act her part in the long-standing Blythe political legacy of senators and congressmen. Last she had heard of her father, Alexander Duke Blythe was looking to be the next presidential candidate. Her mother runs various charities, painting the perfect First Lady potential. The next big Kennedy and Jackie. Her parents had not been the biggest fan of her acting career, but now that she has actually made it on the big screen, her own fame has indirectly lent to his image positively. Consequently, he has slowly been keeping track of her goings more and more - to her disgust. When she was 18, Lexi found a private investigator to try to find her biological parents. She still has no idea who her father was, but she learned that her mother had been an escort who abandoned Lexi on the steps of a massage parlour in the Gangnam district. O2 ━◞ CAREER - Attention-deprived, and raised in Los Angeles, it only made sense for Lexi to pursue a career to famehood through acting. Broadway, singing, dance and acting classes were part of her busy schedule growing up because an heiress like her needed to be raised in culture and the arts. She had never held a knack for subjects like math or literature, but the dramatic arts came to her naturally.  Instead of going to university, she worked as an extra at 17 before finally catching a break at 19 as a minor character in an intrigue drama. Appealing to the audiences as the ‘sweet and innocent’ trope, she began to take on more movie roles. The nickname going around Hollywood translated into “America’s Angel”. The problem with being forced into a trope was she rarely got roles past the secondary or tertiary characters. Having been a solid B-lister for the past 5 years, Lexi has recently been trying to take on more sensual and provocative roles. Because everyone knows the key to stardom is for everyone to watch you sleep around in theatres. Yet, any time Lexi is shown as anything but a “sweet angel”, her reputation suffers. Her last movie, He Said She Said was a rom-com that crashed and burned, but the newest blockbuster coming out may just be a movie for the charts. O3 ━◞ PERSONALITY - Don’t get her wrong. She cares deeply for her friends. They’re the family she doesn’t feel that she has. Her crew is always surprised she’s not a total diva and is usually just an outgoing and (for the most part) amiable girl. Whether in the way she walks or smiles, she has that graceful superstar formula that draws people in. It’s just her little self-destructive tendencies and obsession for finding love (and also trouble) that gets her into trouble with the people around her. Having an empty family life pushed Lexi to dream of her future family and Prince Charming. When she isn’t thinking of movie scripts and planning how to maintain her relevancy, she is wondering when her life will turn into a rom-com. Sometimes she loses track of reality in her naivete and desperation. Also ridiculously mischievous. Because she grew up constantly conniving as to how she could mess with her parents and get their attention, she often liked to do the opposite of what her dad would instruct her to do, which extrapolated to everyone. Extremely bad at taking instructions and also criticism (so you can expect some diva meltdowns every once in awhile). Breaking the law is lowkey a grey area. Doesn’t blink an eye at things like trespassing. O4 ━◞ SCANDAL - She met one of her father’s colleagues at one of the galas her parents forced her to visit. One of the youngest Senators ever from California. Hitting it off that night, the rest of the year felt like a dream. Young and naive, she was head over heels in love. He swore that he would break up with his wife and that he didn’t love her anymore. As things go, the senator’s wife discovered their affair through a private investigator. Holding the photos over head, she threatened Lexi that she would ruin the Senator’s reputation unless Lexi stayed away from her husband. To tend to her broken heart and avoid blowing up both Lexi’s and the senator’s careers, her agent sent her to Savannah to lay low until things could boil over. O5 ━◞ ALCOHOL USE AND DRUG USE - Since beginning the affair, Lexi turned to alcohol and drugs to deal with the guilt. When she wasn’t working, she was drinking and partying. And when she was partying in upscale LA, she was popping m like no tomorrow with Los Angeles’ partying elite. O6 ━◞ LIKES - Enjoys champagne, cream earl grey tea and anything fruity. Fav coffee is a cappucino with a shot of vanilla. Zombie apocalypse and horror shows/movies/anythings are her guilty passion even though she gets unbelievably scared to the point where she can’t get a good night’s rest. Her secret dream is to star in a zombie film where she gets a really dramatic death. Proud mommy of a little Maltese puppy named Peanut. O7 ━◞ QUIRKS - Messy, not dirty, is what Lexi claims she is. Scatter-brained and disorganized. Constantly late for events. She gives her manager, Anya, a hernia, for not having any order in her life. Lexi also can’t cook for her life but really likes to eat - everything and anything. In fact, for a striving starlet, she really likes fast food like hamburgers and pizza far too much. In response, she is up early doing some sort of physical activity every morning as a semi-guilty ritual. She basically can’t go through the day without exercising because she’s so anxious about her appearance and her extreme love for food. O8 ━◞ WANTED CONNECTIONS - ♕ her ride or die aka in greys anatomy speak, “her person”. The person she’s closest to, etc, like she’d kill somebody for this person ♕ childhood friend ♕ cousins (technically adopted cousins from her adoptive mother’s side) ♕ best female friend aka like a sister/ best male friend aka like a bro ♕ childhood friend ♕ flirtationship ♕ all that love ships/maybe kind of a rebound/maybe more ♕ party crew? ♕ someone who knew her ex or even of the scandal in some way///or or or or someone lexi got really drunk with and accidentally ugly cried to about her being a mistress/ someone who has dirt on her? ♕ an ex that ended badly/ an ex that ended on good terms ♕ someone she has slept around with/is sleeping around with/rebound ♕ one night stand ♕ a fan of her movies/tv shows!? ♕ roommate (she just moved from a big ass mansion to like a house, and it feels empty as fuck, so she prob put out a posting) ♕ early morning workout buddies ♕ someone she has worked with in the industry before like fellow celebs/crew/photographers/filmographers/etc/etc? ♕ anything else hit me up
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