#edit: you said i was cool recently but i wanted to tell you that you're cool too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

inkyycapp · 8 months

Text

how i think characters would react

if you got (very) hurt: adventure time edition.

tw/cw : angst, fluff, blood, violence, gore?, terrible story building, implied romance, fionna and cake spoilers, a lot of cringe, self-indulgence, character hcs, etc...

[a/n: this is very sloppy and rush as i made this between classes so it's half edited half not and not at all proof read. forgive me. thank you for the love on my last posts!! i wasn't expecting my adventure time hcs to get the attention it did, thank you so much!! i have finished fionna and cake(twice) so, my hcs might slightly shift a bit. at the moment. thinking of cross posting on ao3. reader is usually always gender neutral in all my posts unless stated otherwise. that's all! i'm open to requests and my dms/pms are open. thank you! new additions as well!! this is all i have, i'm sorry. a few more are in the drafts. please tell me if i missed anything tag and cw/tw wise! thank you.]

[holy shit, fionna and cake's finn. honka honka. i don't deserve a platform.]

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

|| it all happened so fast. you could barely recall what happened. one moment you're up-right, after the next you're trying to pick yourself off the ground. your breathing grew more labored at every attempt, and the smell of iron hung heavy in the air. the warm liquid on your hands was a stark contrast to cold that began to wrack your body. it wasn't long 'til your vision faded to black, leaving only questions behind into your last fleeting thoughts. ||

finn.

(the favorite. my favorite.)

-the both of you were exploring an old cave. deep, dark, and damp. it was said to hold treasure far back into the cave, and out of curiosity you both went to explore. what you didn't know was that many people sought out that treasure. many dangerous people.

-going deeper into the cave, you and finn found the treasure, though nothing cool to take back except for a few cool rings. turning on your way out, with your back to the entrance, a sharp pain was felt through your body. looking down you saw the bloodied blade of a sword. you had no time to react as you were shoved off the blade and onto the ground. from there, it was a blur.

-finn would (violently) remove anyone involved. while brutal, he makes sure to end it quick--he doesn't have time for them when you're bleeding out on the ground.

-finn never stopped talking to you, even if you're asleep. it's always optimistic-- he talks about; new things he's found, friends he talked to recently, any new news, old and new stories, the next date he'll take you on, etc... he rambled hours on end in a one-sided conversation. it's how he copes.

-finn's trying to be uplifting. but, by himself he's a mess. he rarely stays at the treehouse because he's too restless. he feels weak, and unable to do anything. when finn's not at your side he's fighting through his feelings. finn had learned it wasn't healthy to use violence as his only outlet, but it makes him feel something that isn't the heavy stone in his chest when he sees you.

-he's a patient man, he knows you'll wake up soon. he just had to be patient. but after around a few days he doesn't want to be "patient" anymore. he wants you to wake up now. finn knows he can't make that happen, but it was a selfish want to keep himself going.

-when you did wake up, he was all over you. there wasn't a time when he wasn't with you, or at least in the same vicinity as you.

-good luck trying to pry yourself away from his arms. this man has fought monsters thrice his size for fun. even your prettiest please wasn't going to work, not this time. you almost died. you could've died and he couldn't do anything about it. those memories never left his brain basket, even when your recovery was going smoothly.

-very anxious about letting you tag along, but knows you'll probably go off on your own if he refuses to take you along. he feels it's safer to allow you to come along, rather than go off on your own. with him, he knows that at least this time he could do better. he won't ever have a repeat of last time.

-finn keeps you close during each adventure, even losing sleep watching the surroundings to be sure no one sneaks up on you. he will refuse to sleep, so you'd have to force him. please give this man all the reassurance, he really needs it. it won't stop his anxiety, or his fear of it happening again, but it puts him at ease. even if it's just a little bit, it helps, nonetheless.

fern.

-the green knight has plenty of enemies. of course, fern could protect himself, and you could do the same. however, even if you could protect yourself, there wasn't any chance to protect yourself getting jumped, and a dirty stab to the back. the most dishonorable way to lose to a foe. the amount of ever growing disrespect.

-he loses his shit. sure, he gets mad quickly, but if you were awake to see him like this: holy shit. he grows plentiful thorns, and poison flowers all over himself subconsciously. (he's actually very pretty like this.)

-he's livid, and you're not conscious to do anything about it. and that's just it, you're unconscious, bleeding out on the ground. fern couldn't quite process it just yet. normally you'd stop him from going too far, but you can't right now. that's supposed to never happen. he's confused and angry, and you're not waking up. you're not moving. so, he cuts down anyone involved in a quick motion. he doesn't care how brutal, as long as it's quick. fern wastes no time in picking you up (after managing the thorns and flowers) and taking you to doctor princess.

-fern can't stand seeing you like this. laying weakly on that hospital bed.

-if you think finn's not good at coping, fern is much worse. he doesn't even cope. he's just...there.

-he's so confused, and just shuts down a bit. like he's still there, he's still the green knight-- fern. but, he's just distant. not quite himself-- off.

-fern is unable to wrap his head around what happened to you, but he goes about his 'normal' life. he tries to just go about his casual life without you there, and he's just confused. it doesn't take long before he grows upset, allowing the rage to boil.

-'they used to do that.' 'this was their favorite color.' 'they were supposed to fix that.' 'they like bird houses.' everything reminds him of you. it's impossible to go a single day without a reminder that you're still unconscious.

-i think it gets more apparent when he's out and about as the green knight. he's more violent. but, he doesn't mean to be. it just...happens.

-he's likely not there when you first wake, but when he gets there fern's complaining about everything under his breath. but when he sees you up, that bed isn't just for you anymore.

-he's holding you close, with a firm hold and refusing to let go. he's scolding you for not waking up sooner, and complaining about how life without you was too different. he tried to be casual, but he missed you a bit too much.

-there is also no prying fern off of you-- a common thing between all of them. once you're up, there is no separating you both for a few hours at the least.

-fern is also hesitant about letting you rejoin him on the adventures, but as long as you stay close, and keep weapon on you at all times, he'll agree. but, all of your wounds-- every. single. one.-- had to be medically evaluated as ok, and no threat to your health before anything.

farmworld!finn.

(post crown -- pre fionna and cake.)

-he's in shock, not moving for a few moments. he knew why he'd be hated, or hunted down, killed even, but why you? why did they have to drag you into this?

-someone in the many gangs around the parts found you somewhere in the clearing waiting for finn. you both had previously planned a picnic out in a nice clearing in the woods. he was running late. but, once he found you bleeding out and onto grass, he's thrown way off guard.

-finn is quickly trying to pick you off the grass, trying to get you out of there, and dragging you back to his cabin. finn manages to tend to each of your wounds. though, the moment he's done, and you're in a stable condition-- he's leaving the cabin for a few hours.

-he finds whoever did this to you, and doing what he couldn't earlier. finn is driving in the same injuries they gave to you over and over again. he doesn't let up until he's in tears. finn knows that this changes nothing. he knows this won't make him feel better, but he needed to do something. anything. even if it's for his own sadistic pleasure to see the regret on their faces-- to see them like this. pathetically clawing at the dirt in an attempt to ground themselves through the pain-- trying to crawl away from his bloodied hands.

-(robot hand included.)

-finn leaves them with their lives(barely), and a warning before disappearing into the woods.

-he is struggling to cope. finn hold your hand in his abnormally cold one running his thumb over your knuckles. he's constantly checking in on you, and rarely leaving your side. sleeping, and eating could wait. after all that's happened with the crown, you're all he has left. he can't lose you too.

-he stays by your side as much as he can. finn knows he should probably take his mind off of...your condition and stay productive but it's difficult. the only reason the cabin is warm is because if it got too cold you'd start to shake. he makes food only because if you wake up you might be hungry.

-he doesn't know what to do for the most part, just waiting and hoping that you'll be better in no time. a fear lingers deep inside him that you'll worsen the moment he closes his eyes. so, finn stays up. there are times when he has passed out around the house, and when he wakes up he's absolutely terrified; running to check on you, checking to make sure your wounds haven't reopened, making sure you're alive.

-a deep seeded fear the you'll wilt away in his arms. it keeps him up at night-- it eats at him day by day.

-you're finally awake, but even then the fear doesn't fade. he's at you're every call so much that it begins to worry you.

-you'll have to force him, and i mean force him to sleep. you're ok, he's ok-- everything is ok. he can finally rest.

-he's just happy you're still there with him.

prismo.

-you? hurt? nope. not on his time watch. prismo has you out of the situation in seconds, without a scratch. he refuses to ever see you in any pain.

-though, hypothetically, if there's ever a time where you do get hurt, and your wounds cannot be fixed with his wish master magic, and he's "too late", he's not so well.

-you're on a comfy little bed in the wishing room, laying on top of him. your wounds are bandaged up, and cleaned, with your breathing finally stable.

-he never leaves you side once. (sensing a pattern in everyone.) it's either him, or a copy of him. when he's granting wishes to whoever manages to make it to his wishing room, he keeps you in the cube with a copy of himself to watch over you.

-tries to make small talk with your unconscious self...it doesn't go well. the owl visits more often only to lay it's eyes upon the slum prismo is in.

-the cosmic owl tries to ease the depression, though fails miserably. if jake is still alive; his visits, brings gifts, barber sessions, the whole mile for his other best bud. it does kinda help, even if it was just a bit-- but, he's greatful nonetheless.

-while he could be doing better, prismo is doing the best out of everyone to be honest(if jake is around). jake's visits have been more than helpful to this guy, and honestly without jake, he'd be worse than just a mess.

-when you wake up he doesn't believe it at first but he's ecstatic. there is never a time where he's not with you, talking your ear off on how horrible it was without you. and while prismo wants to contuine talking you to your grave, he can't deny hearing your voice after so long does wonders to him.

-bonus if jake's around and prismo's like "and i like...really miss her. y'know? like she's right there but she's not..." "no, dude, i get it..." "i'd kill just to hear her voice just once..." "...prismo..." "ah, shit now i'm hallucinating!!" "no prismo, behind you." "jake, don't play into my delusions!" "god dammit prismo." "YOU'RE AWAKE!? FINALLY."

scarab.

-this man is already insane. he already needs therapy. the anger issues on this psychotic man are insane.

-he loses all sense of morality(that he had left) but surprisingly holds off and tends to you first. by sending you back to headquarters for someone to tend to your injuries while scarab spends the next few hours tearing their molecules apart.

-honestly the worst out everyone. like, if he has a chance to off someone, they're going to die but in the most unconventional, painful, most gruesome way possible. he's....coping?

-at this point it's hard to tell with him, one moment he's rambling under his breath about annoyances, the next....he's offically lost it!!

-sadly he can't be at you're side at all times even if he really wants to, but with his job and all that. when given any chance he's right there next to you. he excuses this behavior as protecting you against anyone who might try anything, but in reality: it's just hard to stay away when you're like this. he wants to stay close even if he can't sometimes.

-scarab has difficulties with intimacy, so he finds it difficult to express his concern the "right" way. others see him as uneffected, and taking it too easy, but he is genuinely scared. he's scared that he loses the one person who can see him for what he is. an emotionally fucked up person who can't stand rule breakers.(joking).

-he finds holding your hand a way to ease the tension.

-when you wake up, he just sitting there, holding your hand.

-he's never letting you go anywhere without a weapon three times your size. of course he teaches you how to use it, but just because he wants you to protect yourself when he cannot. scarab views your injuries as him failing as a partner in more ways than one. he should've made sure you could protect yourself even when he couldn't.

-later on after your wounds have healed you're allowed with him on his missions. he denies being scared. reassure him anyways, he really needs it.

e/n: sorry prismo's and scarab's are short! first time writing them :')

#adventure time #finn mertens #finn the human #finn mertens x reader #fern mertens x reader #fern mertens #the snowman #fionna and cake #fionna and cake x reader #icefinn x reader #the scarab #the scarab x reader #prismo #prismo x reader #adventure time headcanons #adventure time x reader #fionna and cake headcanons

286 notes · View notes

thatfreshi · 8 months

Text

"Unlucky Draw" (Uni AU p. 15)

There's finally some fluff guys!!!!!!!!!

tw - anxiety, discussion of weed

Since Halsin's little break-up escapade happened, you actually do get the chance to see Astarion later that night. As of recent, he's been throwing himself into his thesis project more and more, to the point where most of your time hanging is spent with him looking through books and asking 'do you think this sounds right?'

"You know you can take a break, right?"

"I could, you're right, but then I'd just be wasting time. And I'm not allotted much time to work on this."

The two of you are comfortably sprawled across his mattress, like teenagers at a sleepover. You roll over and shut his laptop.

"C'mon, you've been staring at that paper for like two hours."

"And what else should I do, my darling Tav? Maybe stare at the ceiling in silence? Or scroll mindlessly on my phone until I don't feel like moving anymore?"

"Ugh, no! I don't know, take a coffee break. You're probably not going to sleep anyways."

Your best friend almost looks peaceful like this, wrapped in a cozy sweater and sweatpants, always wearing long socks because he gets cold too easily. You find yourself lingering on the thought longer than normal, wishing he could feel that comfortable warmth all the time, wondering it might be like to share in it.

"Tav, are you listening? God, maybe we should just stare at the ceiling in silence."

"Sorry, just spacing out. What were you saying?"

"I was saying, how I should probably cut back on the caffeine."

"Really? Astarion Barista Ancunín, are you turning your back on your beloved espresso machine?"

"Look, I'm not happy about it, but I've been far too anxious as of late. My nerves are on fire constantly, jumping at every little noise I hear. It's irritating, to say the least."

"I thought being caffeinated was how you dealt with the insomnia though?"

"Oh it very much is, which will become a problem soon enough, but I just can't be this nervous constantly."

It's something that you've definitely noticed, how quiet and fidgety he's become recently.

"You considered smoking weed? I know Gale says it helps him zen out, especially when it comes to art stuff."

"Nope, makes me paranoid."

"Damn, unlucky draw I guess."

"You're telling me. I smoked one time back in high school, couldn't sleep for hours, kept thinking someone was out to get me or something."

You start to get lost in the peace of the moment again, the fact that you're able to talk about shit that doesn't matter, how the light from the bedside lamp hits his eyes just right...

"Are you alright? You seem, out of it."

"Sorry, just thinking about what Halsin said to me."

"I can't believe he just broke things off like that, without a reason."

You swallow hard.

"He, he said it's because he thinks you like me? And that he doesn't want to get in the way of that?"

There's silence for a moment, that you jump to fill.

"But that's not true right? We're just friends, I don't know where he would've gotten that idea from."

"Right, I don't know either... sounds like you dodged a bullet with him."

"Yeah, probably so."

God, has he always looked like this? Damn Halsin, damn all those things he said, damn Gale for even playing into it. You remind yourself that Astarion's right, that this doesn't need to get any more complicated than it already is, that he has enough on his plate.

"Now, am I allowed to go back to my thesis now? Or do I need to have more mandatory break time?"

You playfully sigh.

"I guess you can do productive things or whatever."

"Well, in that case would you like to come read what I have?"

"I'll look at it, but you have the cool narrator voice, you have to read it to be like a professional author."

He rolls his eyes, and you go to sit next to him, looking at the thousands of words he's typed at this point. Astarion starts to read it out loud, editing tiny things as he goes, forever a little perfectionist. After a while, the voice becomes too soothing, and you fall asleep there next to him, letting your head hit his shoulder.

"Tav?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you knocked out, clearly exhausted. He doesn't stop reading though, worried if he does that he'll somehow ruin the sleep he's let you stumble into. So he spends the rest of the night rereading out loud and talking to himself, occasionally asking you things that you don't answer. After many hours pass, and the wee hours of the morning arrive, along with the clock turning to say five AM, he puts his laptop aside, and asks you one final question.

"Why do you insist on pulling my heartstrings the way you do?"

And it falls on your sleeping ears, never truly getting through.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #fluff #x reader #freshiau #gale of waterdeep #halsin

82 notes · View notes

panelshowsource · 7 months

Text

hey frends!

just a lil update to say that i'll be moving soon, so over the next 2–3 weeks i'll be quite busy and won't be able to post a lot a lot (not that i usually post that much but i do try!)

now that many panel shows are wrapping up their seasons, it's not too much to keep up with the masterpost or anything, so i'll definitely keep that chugging, but gifs might be a little slow :') i have a few requests i'll work on, and it's fine to send those in; plus, i said i'd be making BIG gifsets for the recent taskmaster contestants and i'm definitely working on those! i wanna do a good job so taking my time :)

wanna remind everyone about some of the newer additions to the googledrive!

ed gamble — glutton (audiobook) (i'll be listening to this today while i'm packing! if anyone else listened pls lmk what you think!! i'm also wrapping up david's book and gonna post my thoughts soon hehe)

added the most recent alex horne/tim key celebrity pointless to the alex horne collection folder

a couple seasons of duck quacks don't echo upgraded to 1080p

bbc radio 4's hard to tell from 2011, with jonny sweet, charlotte ritchie, katy wix, etc.

complete british as folk, with fern brady, ivo graham, and darren harriott (any other homo reading this grow up absolutely and painfully obsessed with queer as folk? either version? oh man... this programme gets a 10/10 for the name alone, iconic)

live at the moth club

lots of fun new episode of growing pains, hignfy, taskmaster, outsiders :)

as well, there are a couple of new podcasts out: russell howard's wonderbox and james acaster's springleaf :)

i have a bunch of asks and i'll post them later! you guys are being so cute about taskmaster it's been so fun

hope everyone is having a great weekend!

btw... please don't feel obligated to anon me rude messages... i'm a little stressed with everything going on in Life, so maybe save those for the new year? i'll try to come up w witty retorts after i've had some sleep

it's funny, i've been hearing a lot about blog competition and fighting for notes and monopolising panel show content blah blah in my inbox recently. (i only included one here but there's genuinely been quite a few just in the last couple of weeks.) i don't know what might be going on on other blogs or discords or whatever, and i honestly didn't even know these were still convos people are having; i kinda thought we all agreed that this site isn't as big as it used to be, notes aren't as plentiful as they used to be, but by golly we'll just keep on posting anyways. i don't know if there are edit tags for any panel shows but i don't use them; i just post content here for my current followers and if you guys like it then that's all i wanted to do. i don't care if there are other panel show blogs with more followers or posts that get more notes or better gifs or better blogs or whatever. it's all fine. i don't care. i don't think about it. so you don't have to ask me that stuff — how to grow your blog or get more followers or more engagement, or how i feel about other blogs that post the same content as i do — i won't answer it. just post it because you want to; don't race to be the first one to get stuff at (especially at the expense of making content you're proud of!); don't put other people down; don't send anonymous hate. just be cool and worry about you. if you can't have fun here without validation in the notes then you're gonna be miserable. flopping is integral to being active.

37 notes · View notes

descendant-of-truth · 7 months

Text

I recently decided to watch the Last Airbender movie in full for the first time for analytical purposes (and as a fresh comparison for the upcoming Netflix series), and like. yeah, it's still decidedly Not Good, but everyone's already talked about that so instead I wanna write about the stuff I actually thought was interesting.

Some small things, first: despite it not really having any cultural significance, I was weirdly fond of Aang's red cloak?? Like it could've looked a little less like it belonged on a jedi, but it functions well for hiding his tattoos when necessary and makes for a cool silhouette.

Plus, it works as a good representation of the part of him that just wants to run away and hide from his responsibilities - something that the original design never really needed to account for, per se, but it still makes for a neat edition.

The movie cuts out the quirky conversation with Aang after freeing him from the iceberg in favor of him being too delirious from a 100 year coma to say anything, and on principle, this isn't. great. but the more I think about it, I think it comes down to the fact that his actual introduction to Katara and Sokka is so dry, not because they waited to have him wake up.

In fact, I think this could've worked out really well! The longer Aang takes to wake up properly, the longer everyone else has to develop an image in their head of what he's going to be like, and the bigger their surprise when this kid who was barely conscious and on the verge of hypothermia a few minutes ago starts bouncing off the walls with this big smile on his face.

The time spent at the Southern Air Temple also introduces a few things that I liked, for example: Aang actually namedropping some of his friends from there

Petition to bring back Chinto and Monae for the Netflix version

But for real, that scene just made me realize how kinda. odd, it is, that Aang never mentions any of the Air Nomads by name other than Monk Gyatso originally. We know he was friends with Bumi and Kuzon, but did he not consider any of his peers to be good friends of his?

More importantly though - just like in the original, Aang recognizes Gyatso's skeleton by his necklace. Unlike the original, however, this necklace is one that Aang made for him.

And I love this idea, but ohh boy do I not like how under-explored it is in the movie. You're telling me that they decided to have Aang make a necklace for his now-deceased parental figure, and didn't use that as an opportunity for him to connect with Katara?? The one who wears her mother's necklace as a memento???

Regardless of whether or not Aang decided to keep Gyatso's necklace, it's a conversation that absolutely deserved to happen, and despite the chances of it being extremely low, it's something I'd like to see the new version take a crack at.

Also this was just a genuinely cool action setpiece, the idea of using spinning boards as both a defensive and offensive structure for crowd control is super creative and I love it

The fight between Aang and Zuko at the north pole was also great; even though there was uncharacteristic lack of bending involved, they were able to capture a real sense of frantic energy and got some really cool moves in there that are difficult to show properly through screenshots.

Definitely one of the biggest changes to a plot beat (in my opinion) comes in the form of Aang struggling with waterbending rather than being a natural at it, and you know what? Probably my hottest take of this post is that I think this is a worthwhile angle to explore.

Water is the element of change, and in the movie, it's said to teach its benders "acceptance." On a purely tangible level, the movements for water and airbending are pretty similar, and they're both kind of "floaty" in a way. But ideologically? What part of Aang at this point in time has a grasp on how to handle change, much less reach acceptance?

He ran away from home because he was scared of all the sudden changes happening in his life. He didn't want to be the Avatar, and couldn't accept what that meant for him.

So, from that perspective, doesn't it make sense that water could be difficult for him to learn? I mean, no matter what you do with air, it's still just air, and it's everywhere. You don't really have to worry about not having enough of it in most situations.

But with water, you gotta think about what forms you can make with what you have, you need to be able to change its form from liquid to solid and back again, and it's just a lot more dynamic and weighty than what he's used to dealing with.

Combine that with just not being in the right headspace for learning after The Horrors and yeah, I'd totally believe that there's a world out there where Aang struggles to waterbend! A shame that it had to be this world, where the writers have little interest in exploring it beyond letting him make a Really Big Wave at the end in lieu of a character arc, but an idea with potential nonetheless

(Speaking of which, while not nearly as satisfying as the original finale, this shot does look extremely cool)

Overall, this was actually a pretty entertaining viewing experience! I already knew what to expect when it came to its flaws, which in turn made it easier to focus in on the parts that were interesting for me.

I went into it for a thought experiment, and it gave me a lot more thoughts to experiment with than I was expecting, so y'know what? I call that a net positive in this case.

(Also if anyone can link me to the comic adaptation of this movie, please do, I would love to know exactly what the differences are and how the art looks but I can't find it anywhere)

#avatar the last airbender #atla #aang #analysis #meta #atla movie #This was basically all about Aang whoops #He just had the most moments that made me go 'oh that's neat'#and I mean. to be fair he had very little competition XD #But still! Fun to think about #Also for some reason the subtitles on the site I was using had every single W in the script capitalized #which is really funny because this movie was not exactly what you'd call a W for the community

26 notes · View notes

polithicc · 8 months

Note

treat or treat, my lovely

hiiii shel. here it is, the silliest thing i've ever written. the locklyle reddit au no one asked for

Posted by u/ForBlueSkulls 5 hours ago

AITA for pretending not to know my (22F) ex-housemate (23M) when we were introduced to each other at my new job?

Yeah, what the title says. I (22F) recently started a new job. On my first day, while my manager was introducing me to the team, I was surprised when he introduced me to my former housemate (23M). I panicked because we hadn't seen each other in two years, I extended my hand and chose to act as though we were strangers. He seemed surprised but followed my lead by shaking my hand.

I won't get into the details about why I left, but I’ll just say it wasn’t because of him. I acknowledge that I was an asshole for cutting contact with him and other mutual friends, including our third housemate.

I feel bad for pretending not to know him, but I also don’t want the entire office to know my personal business. I’m debating talking to him and apologizing, but I still wouldn’t want to tell anyone that we have a past.

Not sure if I’m the asshole here or if it was a normal reaction because I was surprised. I feel bad for pretending not to know him, but I also don’t want the entire office to know my personal business. I don’t know how I will deal with everything if people at work find out, I don’t want them to think I’m awful or a liar (although I might be both in this case).

Edit 1: I already said I’m not getting into the reason I moved out. Also, I moved back to the city after I graduated and secured a job. For the ones suggesting I picked this job on purpose, I knew we were in the same industry, but I didn’t know he worked here. I’m not some crazy stalker.

Edit 2: Alright. I don’t see how this is relevant, but yes, we were sort of seeing each other.

Edit 3: OK, I get it. I am the asshole here.

Knightlong-Term · 5hr. ago NTA If you think it's cool, shoot him a private apology. Otherwise, keep it pro. No need to spill more beans on your backstory, and I bet he'll feel the same way. That's old news, who even cares? It's nobody's business.

Anguised_Teeth420 · 5hr. ago Soft YTA but I'm laughing so hard 🤣🤣🤣 AWKWARD

Blank_Infussion_95 · 4hr. ago I mean, why change the habit of ignoring him now, right? If he had been a total ass to you, it'd make sense to move on and go no contact. But why not give communication a shot? You didn't have to give him all the info, but refusing to talk to him at all, especially after being so close, seems pretty immature. Is this how things work these days for folks your age? It's a bit puzzling to me. I do agree with you on one thing, though. Your past relationship and personal life are your own business, and you're under no obligation to disclose them to anyone. As for not wanting to reveal your shared history, it's a tough position to maintain when you both work in the same place, and he might not be so discreet about it. He might just tell people about the two of you and then your new coworkers are gonna think you suck. NTA

[deleted]· 3hr. ago absolutely yta you pretty much ghosted him and then the next time you run into him act like he's a total stranger.

Edit: just read your reply to alarmedmarky. if he has any good friends at that company, you can bet he's told them about the weird encounter with the new girl who acted like she didn't know him, even though you guys were literally living together not just roommates. i repeat yta

AlarmedMarky · 3hr. ago question, when you say you two have a past what do you mean exactly? And how long did you live together?

ForBlueSkulls · 3hr. ago we lived together for 2 years and I moved into his room for a year of those two and stayed until i moved out.

AlarmedMarky · 3hr. ago wait so you two were together?

ForBlueSkulls · 2hr. ago we never really defined the relationship (like he never asked me to be his gf), which is why i refer to him as just my housemate

AlarmedMarky · 2hr. ago LMAAAAOOO OP, I thought you were the asshole before for not acknowledging him, but you’re telling me you were literally sleeping with the guy for a year and then pretended not to know him?? You’re the asshole and I hope he never forgives you.

#this has been so so fun to write #i should work on it some more #i need a writing tag #formatting got fucked on mobile #trick or treat fic

18 notes · View notes

stupidlovergirl · 11 months

Text

Video Games are my Love Language

Levi x Reader

Dev Notes: Ya girl has 20 million Wisps but I decided to write a Levi fic because he is my special guy and I am sinking my teeth into him like a stress ball. My laptop has been kicking my ass and not allowing me to open both Tumblr or even Word or Docs. So fuck it we ball. Also had no clue what to name this fic, wrote it in like, an hour or two. It's kinda bad. Once again, fuck it we ball Not edited

Recently, you have been playing so much Chess.com. It's kinda become a problem. When you have to open up your RAD-issued laptop, you briefly write down the lesson and just open it up and start playing. Sometimes when you're further back in the class you text Levi and you two will engage in a battle of wits and absolute trash talk. Malding has happened, and the absolute will power it takes to not shoot up and go a fist fight with him for his comments is great, but you want to continue being able to just play chess in class is greater. Sometimes it becomes such a hindrance you have to beg one of the others in the class for the work, and beg even harder where they won't tell Lucifer. Maybe it's an addiction, but if playing chess and beating Levi's ass in it sometimes is wrong, you don't want to be right.

So, that's what you were doing. You're supposed to be writing a paper on the history of something or other, but you're just playing Levi in another game. The last two went by pretty fast, as Levi is a good strategist, given he is literally an admiral, but you've been getting better. You usually sass and tease him to get him off his game to take the W, and it works. Call it cheap, but it's still a win.

L3vi: lololol bad move normie L3vi: L move, ur abt to get wrekt

You push a frustrated breath through your nose. You were so going to make him regret that latter. Typing quickly, you make your next comment before you even think about it

'Shut up. You're just complaining about the W I'm gonna take because you want to kiss me!!!!!!!!'

And you don't think you'd ever see it. Levi has withdrawn from the game, leaving you the victor. It's strange, because he doesn't accept any other game for the rest of the day, and it turns into not playing for the rest of the week. Slowly, he starts playing with you again, but you don't question his reasons for stopping, as you don't want him to quit again.

Levi has gotten some new first person shooter. He's been talking about it all week, and wanting to show you in person. To hype it up for you, he's been sending pics and videos of his kills and his streaks during class. You ask him nicely and sometimes he puts his screen up on Discord for you to watch on your phone while you're in class or on break and hiding from the demands of the brothers you love so much. So when the weekend rolled around, you said no to all the invitations extended to go somewhere else from the other brothers and end up in Levi's room, which you refer to as 'The Fishbowl', despite Levi's (obviously fake) annoyance.

You knock on the door, and Levi doesn't even bother with a password as he opens the door and yanks you inside. You feel off balance as you walk (or more appropriately: dragged) to Levi's desk, where the title screen is displayed, and around it two chairs, one Levi's and the other the one Levi bought for you. You sit down, resting in it as Levi sits down in front of you. He starts rambling again, about the game and how it's 'so cool' and totally 'the best one ever'. You just smile, sleepy from the hard and infuriating school work (and the even harder and more infuriating chess games). So you snatch a blanket, snuggle in, and watch Levi do his thing. Sometimes you get hyped, when Levi pulls off a sick clutch or penta kill, but for the most part are pretty relaxed. The conversation has died down for the most part, as Levi's hyper focus has set in, and you are way too sleepy to care. So much so, you've stopped watching the game, and turned to Levi himself.

Then your thoughts consume you. Levi is so pretty, and it makes you sad sometimes he's so hard of himself. You pick on him for little things since you have gotten closer, but only in fun witty banter, which Levi recognizes as he typically replies with some of his own. Yet you wish that he would realize just how attractive he is on his own. His pretty hair, which despite the lack of routine is so freaking soft and pretty and it makes you want to run you hands through it. His eyes, which remind you of the sunset when it's so close to saying goodnight that the purple starts bleeding in. His cute nose, his nice jawline……his lips, which are so soft and kissable and moving anD OH GOD HE'S TALKING AND LOOKING AT YOU.

"What?" you ask simply, voice quiet and giving away your obvious sleepiness

Levi rolls his eyes, but the smile on his lips easily shows he's not annoyed. "I was asking if you had seen that kill, but obviously not as you were spaced out. What's more interesting than my game? The whole reason I invited you over?" He grabs the water bottle off to the side and takes a drink, and you feel a little embarrassed

"It's nothing, just sleepy from school. Not all of us can take online classes nerd" You say, reaching a foot out and kicking his chair away from you, sending him rolling a little ways away.

"Skill Issue" is all you get in response as he places the bottle back down and moves back to play. Your eyes drooping low, and you feel sleep about to lure you away.

"Do you really want to know?" You whisper quietly.

"Mhm. Shoot." Levi says, barely focusing on what you said and at the new round that has started

"I was thinking about how pretty you are" You mumble out, sleep finally clamping your eyes shut and leading your mind off. Not realizing the short circuiting boy you left behind as you slipped into dreamland.

It's been a few weeks after you confessed you found Levi pretty. Where both of you have been absolutely avoiding any type of real life interaction. Staying just between the game offered texting and Discord. Sometimes even calling if both of you were feeling brave. The brothers have noticed that Levi hasn't left his room, and since none of them have gotten a text about how he's staying because of a new game or the like, they ask you. You who sorta places and feels a little sickly and scurries off and hides after the question. So obviously something happened between you two, and they have no clue how to help, so they just leave it up to you to figure it out. (Not that they wanted too, but Lucifer has been VERY adamant that this is a problem that resides just between you and Levi)

Yet the dance of avoidance has ended due to one thing. An otome game that both you and Levi have been wanting to play drops today from the pre-orders. Which, since you both were so excited, decided to pitch money towards so you could play it together. Yet, would he still want to play it with you after what happened? I mean, you really haven't seen each other. You sound him a text to ask. So, after much nervousness, you sent the text asking if Levi wanted to meet up to start playing together. You watch as the typing bubble flicks up and then stops, and comes up again for a hour it feels like, before the text comes through

'Sure, we planned to so I don't know why we wouldn't lololol'

So that sets the train in motion. The name of the game is pretend. You never told Levi you found him pretty, you guys haven't been avoiding each other, and everyone else hasn't noticed your strange behavior when asked anything about how you have been avoiding him. Perfect. Thank whatever granted you this mercy. So you make yourself a little more presentable, showing that you are not a swamp creature but instead a version of yourself that screams 'I didn't try but still look cute' when YOU DEFINITELY TRIED VERY HARD. So, looking your casual best for him, you set off to the Fishbowl, which feels a lot more like a fighting arena now. In your head you start reviewing things

1 - That you totally didn't call him pretty, in fact you don't find him attractive in the romantic sense at all! Only platonic. Platonically he is good looking. It's an objective fact. Yup. 2 - You DO NOT want to kiss him. You do not want to kiss him at all because he probably has chapped lips and they aren't kissable at all. 3 - Just keep repeating the lies you tell yourself so you can make it out of this colossal interaction unscathed and maybe even start repairing your relationship

So you walk up to his door with a boldness that you know will easily break. You knock on the door, and wait for the password to start. You were surprised when the door just opened and you were yanked in. "Are you excited? I can't wait to romance all the datables! I think it's gonna be great!" Levi excitedly And with that sentence, all the anxiety and tension melts away, and you two ease back into the regular dynamic. "I know, all the characters are so dynamic while being such "typical" stereotypes" you reply back, just as excited You feel him grab your wrist and drag you to the bean bags

And that is where you spend the rest of the day and night, the two of you playing the game, discussing the characters, and feeling secure in your friendship with him

Yet, the comfort dissipates when you get into it about the characters "I'm sorry, but he is best boy! He is a cute little nerdy gamer otaku with anxiety! What isn't to love about him!" "I'm just saying, that my darling is superior! They are so kind to others and they love helping! I'm sorry you cannot appreciate their beauty" Levi scoffs rolling his eyes "Honestly, why do you even like him?" "Because he reminds me of you! Both adorable and anxious!" And you both stop

"Uhm, haha, juust kidding!" you say with a giggle, anxiously looking around "You've done that twice now…are…are you not lying?" Levi says, and he drops his head and fiddles with his fingers "I'm not…I really do like you Levi. You're really important to me." Levi squeaks, and backs away "I hope that doesn't upset you.."

Levi shakes his head furiously "NO!" and he recoils at his outburst. "I like you too… and I thought you were messing me with that night when you said I was…uhm…" he trails off, rubbing his neck "That you were pretty?" "Yes" he squeaks out "Well, I think that you are very pretty. That is just one of the things I like about you though. I like how excited you get, how you are so open to me. You mean so much to me" "DON'T SAY THINGS LIKE THAT UNPROMPTED!" Levi screeches, covering his face You can't help but laugh, "But it's true!" Levi peeks through a gap in his fingers

"I wanted to tell you that…that I like you too" You gape at him "Seriously?" "Mhm" he murmurs You smile at him, feeling giddy, like you're floating, or if electricity was shooting through your veins. "Well, if you like me and I like you…" you smile "Maybe we should go out?"

You have never seen Levi so red before, but his smile is so wide "Okay!" he manages to squeak out

#obey me x reader #obswd x reader #obey me x you #obswd x you #leviathan x reader #bunny's.game.collection

45 notes · View notes

etes-secrecy-post · 13 days

Text

Hi, before I explain my post, I want to say something important.

• What you see my blog has become a major overhaul. And despite the changes, I decided that my 2nd account will be now my artwork blog with a secret twist.

⚠️NEW RULE! (W/ BIGGER TEXT!)⚠️

⚠️ SO PLEASE DO NOT SHARE MY 2nd ACCOUNT TO EVERYONE! THIS SECRECY BLOG OF MINE IS FOR CLOSES FRIENDS ONLY!⚠️

• AND FOR MY CLOSES FRIENDS, DON’T REBLOG IT. INSTEAD, JUST COPY MY LINK AND PASTE IT ON YOUR TUMBLR POST! JUST BE SURE THE IMAGE WILL BE REMOVED AND THE ONLY LEFT WAS THE TEXT.

⚠️ SHARING LINKS, LIKE POSTS, REBLOG POSTS, STEALING MY SNAPSHOT PHOTOS/RECORDED VIDEOS/ARTWORKS (a.k.a. ART THIEVES) OR PLAGIARIZING FROM UNKNOWN TUMBLR STRANGERS WILL IMMEDIATELY BE BLOCKED, RIGHT AWAY!⚠️

😡 WHATEVER YOU DO, DO NOT EVER LIKED & REBLOG MY SECRET POST! THIS IS FOR MY SECRET FRIENDS ONLY, NOT YOU! 😡

Okay? Capiche? Make sense? Good, now back to the post…↓

Take a Taste: with a Can of Royal Crown Cola - 1905 Edition [Jun 2nd, 2024]

Hello! It’s time for another “Take a Taste”! The series is about delicious food with my two paper dolls.

And today, I will quickly review this cool "1905 Edition" of the "Royal Crown Cola", shortly known as "RC Cola"! 🥤😊 Unless, if you say "Remote Control Cola", then you're absolutely wrong, buddy. ❌ Nonetheless, will it taste better than the regular RC Cola? 🤔 Let's find out! 😁

IMPORTANT NOTE: You know, I was gonna submit my next topic from April of 2024, but I decided to post my recent photos.

If you haven’t seen my previous episode, then please → [CLICK ME!].

IMPORTANT NOTE: No #OnThisDay throwback post for this date, only exclusive post on the "Super Secret Blog".

So, without further ado, let’s get started:

1st to 6th Image(s) 📷📲: ↑

• [1st to 4th Images] First off, let's appreciate the look of this cool Royal Crown Cola design. It has some little information about the man (Claud A. Hatcher, Pharm.) who made the "RC Cola" today, since 1905. It may not be as famous as say "Coca-Cola" or "Pepsi", but you could tell that this cola had made of its own by copying the traditional recipe from the aforementioned two soft drink giants. Although correct me if I'm wrong, the can itself should be reflected in the first two colors of the "Royal Crown Cola", as well as the logo's inception. 🟥🟨🤔

Fun fact: The "ARC Refreshment Corp." was started in 2002, and they licensed the "Royal Crown Cola" (or RC Cola) from the "Keurig Dr. Pepper" company in the US for the Philippine consumers 🇵🇭🥤, a time when Pepsi bottles and Coca-Cola cans sold well and they need another competitor in the Cola wars 🥤💥. As of 2024, they're still producing "RC Cola" in the Philippines, with one "weird" controversial commercial that was already axed in the public, and you could only watch it on their RC Cola Philippines' official YT channel. And if you want see it, then here → [CLICK ME!].

• [5th & 6th Images] Nonetheless, I have my clear glass right here to see what color of this classic RC Cola. And of course, how can we not forget our beloved paper dolls to taste the classic "Royal Crown Cola"! 😁 Can't wait to see the taste, eh you two? 😊

7th to 11th Image(s) 📷📲: ↑

• [7th to 9th Images] Okay, the fizz was opened, and here's what it look like from the glass. The can itself is empty when I transfer it. I should be more careful when I holding my hands on a fill liquid glass. That said, it is a typical cola color. Nothing special here, but, what about the taste? Let me sip, then... 🤔

• [10th & 11th Images] *sipping* Mmmm... I'd say, I never tasted this super sweet soda before. In my comparison with the regular RC Cola, it doesn't taste like the 1905 version. I'd say, this is a different kind of soda taste for at least once before I drink a single bottle of mineral water to wash my sweet cola off my taste buds. Hey, would you like to drink the rest of my cola, you two? It's all yours. 😋

Overall:

• Well, this is A-Okay I suppose? 🤔 Although it's already too late for me to make a comparison with the "New Coke" from the 80s, or that special limited edition collaboration with the "Stranger Things" show on Netflix. All that aside, I'm not a fan of the Royal Crown Cola 1905's sweet taste. It doesn't suit my taste buds when I'm eating something, only Coca-Cola and Pepsi, or maybe a normal "RC Cola" should do the quench. So, overall, is worth the ₱30 💵 price can of "Royal Crown Cola 1905"? Maybe. 🤔 In case I'm tired of drinking the aforementioned iconic soft drinks in favor of a different approach. I should try the "No Sugar" variant, plus I'll get the normal RC Cola, too for a comparison, someday. In the meantime, I'll stick with nice clear water. 💧🥤😊

Well, that's all for now. 😊

If you haven’t seen my previous episodes, then I’ll provide some links down below.↓😉

Take a Taste:

○ 2021 Food Reviews: ○

• Popeyes U.S. Spicy Chicken Sandwich [Dec 6, 2021]

• Jollibee Chick'nwich & Crisscut Fries [Dec 21, 2021]: Part 1 [CLICK ME! #1], Part 2 [CLICK ME! #2]

○ 2022 Food Reviews: ○

• Mini Stop Chicken Fillet XL Sandwich [Feb 7, 2022]

• Minute Burger Cheese Burger(s) [Mar 1, 2022]

• Pepper Lunch Teriyaki Beef Pepper Rice w/ Egg (& Honey Brown Sauce) [Mar 5, 2022]

• Bacsilog’s Sulit Combo Bacon-Tocino & Samgyup Day’s Pork Herbs [Mar 12, 2022]

• Burger King Whopper w/ Sides & Drink [May 6, 2022]

• Marshmello’s Limited Edition Coca-Cola Zero [Aug 26, 2022]

• Cheesy Burger McDo with Lettuce & Tomatoes Meal [Recorded: Sept 16, 2022]

• Mcdonald’s PH McSpicy & Apple Pie (featuring their World Famous Fries) [Nov 14, 2022]

• Mcdonald’s McCrispy Hamonado Sandwich [Dec 31st, 2022]

○ 2023 Food Reviews: ○

• Foods from Delicious Restaurant & 1919 Grand Cafe [Jan 8th, 2023]

• Homemade Churros by my lil’ bro [Feb 12th, 2023]

• Lugaw Sisig from Mang Boy Alfredo Lugawan Restaurant [Recorded: Feb 18th, 2023]

• La Prato Stakehouse [Recorded: Apr 10th, 2023]

• Salt ‘n Light Snack Shack’s Cheesy Bacon Burger & Fries [Recorded: Apr 14th, 2023] (Published on May 5th, 2023)

• Delicious burger meal at Tokyo Tokyo Restaurant [Recorded: May 6th, 2023]

• Delicious meals at the Valenzuela Food Fiesta Christmas Bazaar 2023 [Recorded: Dec. 10th, 2023]

○ 2024 Food Reviews: (Chronological) ○

• Mang Inasal Pork Sisig [Recorded: Jan 10th, 2024]

• Mr. Shaw Shawarma Rice [Recorded: Mar 24th, 2024]

• Mang Inasal's Chicken Inasal - Pecho (Chicken Breast) [Recorded: Mar 26th, 2024]

• Uncle John's Chili Con Empanada and Sprite Lemon Plus [Recorded: Mar 30th, 2024]

• Chowking Spicy Chao Fan [Recorded: Mar 30th, 2024]

• Samgyupsal dinner night at the Samgyup Mukbang restaurant [Recorded: May 12th, 2024]

• Meals from the Next Door Noodles by North Park [Recorded: May 19th, 2024]

2 notes · View notes

golbrocklovely · 1 month

Note

i can just imagine colby, katelyn, malia and sam all in a group chat laughing over fans assuming that they're falling apart, tbh. just because sam hasn't liked katelyn's recent post, and colby hasn't commented on malia's. sam and colby are busy busy men, filming and all. they're probably chatting privately. besides, sam did recently say over on twitter he and colby decided not to share so much of their personal lives with us. which is understandable.

what i don't understand is like... isn't this what all of those ppl want? don't you all (not you anon, but those that hate the girls) want the boys to break up with them? wouldn't this be an exciting time for you rather than a "omg what's happening" time??? i'm just saying, pick which side you're on lol

colby not commenting on malia's pic as proof of them breaking up or whatever is hilarious bc i was on insta when she posted and within less than five minutes of the pics being up, he liked it. that man basically has her notifs on lmao so like... him not commenting means nothing.

and then he literally went on to like edits of her in her tags so like??? bffr.

as for sam and katelyn, neither one of them seem to go online as often as ppl think they do. him not liking her pics is not them breaking up. good god ppl, she follows his family members for crying out loud. i think there would be bigger signs of them breaking up than just him not liking a single set of pics from her.

this all feels a bit too juvenile, even for this fandom. like... really? this is how we measure whether or not the boys are on the rocks with their girls? what are we, in seventh grade?

and like you said, snc are busy. sorry they aren't up their gfs' asses all the time. and when they WERE at one point, most of these same fans were telling them to cool it. hell, ppl were saying colby was basically sexting malia when he commented about him wanting her to come over or whatever. can yall just find a happy medium and shut up lol

#ask #personal #cb ll #sg ll

4 notes · View notes

kithtaehyung · 1 year

Note

RYEN!! HELLO HOW ARE YOU? 🥺

I’m so sorry for the inactivity lately but I promise I’ve been here and catching up still! 🥺 I’ve recently just got out of a 3 year toxic relationship and your writings have been such a huge source of comfort for me 🥹❤️ I’ve always been able to relate some of the characters personality, thinking, or relationships so I feel more connected and emotional while reading them 🥺🫶🏼 ( may have read forfeit a billion times and cried on all of them.. kinda scared for myself once ch 10 comes out.. shivers )

It’s always nice to be able to just click on your page and being able to just reread them !! please know I mean every word I said when your writings are masterpieces and filled with love! I not only see you as an author but a friend! the way you interact with your readers is so wholesome it feels like a small community where we’re all respectful of each other and that just makes me so soft to see!! 🥹❤️❤️ I grown comfortable sharing things and I can tell other readers feel the same! speaking of readers, I hope all of them are doing well and staying healthy! 🫶🏼❤️

also.. HSJSJ I MIGHT BE ABLE TO SEE YOONGI IN LA !! AHH!! LETS JUST HOPE I GET THE TICKETS FIRST 🥲 AND JIMIN SOLO? JSOSKS I’m incredibly overwhelmed right now but honestly? I’m buckling up and ready for whatever the future brings me!

I hope you’ve been able to rest and enjoy yourself!! make sure to drink water!! ❤️❤️

WITH LOVE,

🍷

WINE BABEEEE oh my goodness, i wanna hug you. very, very proud of you for recognizing that relationship was toxic and had the courage to leave. that takes incredible strength that no one really talks about, so i just wanted to say that i'm glad that you're out of it now❤️

i'm also happy you're able to just come over and either read these stories or just check out what's been happening! making things comfortable here is top priority despite all the filth in the library lmfao. but i digress: you've read forfeit that many times?? i seriously can't wait to get to it on my 3tan reread journey lsdkjf i feel like it's gonna hit different after reading everything before it rather than editing and rereading it to hell while working through it lolol and yeah. get ready for 3tan10 lol. it's not gonna be easy.

you are so incredible, you know that?? i'm sure all the readers here would also consider you a friend and someone cool to hang with! we're all about just having a good time as you know<3 i hope you're all staying safe and healthy, as well❤️

LETS GOOOOO IF UR IN LA WE CAN PROBABLY LINK UP! i plan on stopping by no matter what :D and staying for quite awhile, too. don't talk to me about face bc i'm already planning so many sets LMAO the behaviors are not as healthy as they should be!! but thank you for all the love and i will drink water :'))

#🍷 anon #lovely people #asks:3tan #3tan9 #3tan10 #*ryenfictalk #mailbox💌

3 notes · View notes

viscountessevie · 2 years

Note

(Villainisation anon here)

[Ohh you have such an efficient way of tagging and maintaining different discussions! I am very much involved in another fandom and receive lots of asks about discourse but I somehow always manage to make a mess of tags, lol]

As for the name, I think I’ll go with 📖 anon or whatever tag you want to use. I am assuming you get a lot of anons regarding discourse so I don’t want to club myself with them.

I can totally understand your frustration regarding the lack of knowledge the general audience may have about The Sharmas. It’s frustrating when you know so much about something but cannot let it all out, especially to strangers on the internet. I have been in similar situations, and I am sorry if my ask ever made you feel that way.

I have definitely seen the word racist be thrown around quite carelessly with unclear implications, with the most recent instance being yesterday. I won’t go into the details of what was said, because maybe the person is your mutual and I don’t wish to involve you in any drama. (You may have, perhaps already seen something about it on your dash). But the words were hurtful and they invalidated my experience as a desi person watching the show. I know people can be quite vitriolic on both sides of the discourse, and it’s sad. But that’s the truth of fandom spaces - discourse is inevitable and I don’t have any ideas on what to do about it, lol.

Anyway, I hope you have a lovely day/night (if you live in India, it must be past midnight for you! It’s dinnertime for me, so I must dash. But thank you for such a healthy and respectful discussion).

Here are Bookie 📖 Anon's previous asks!

Hello again 📖 Anon - I think I shall call you Bookie for short ahahha if you're okay with that! While Villianisation/Villain Anon sounds cool af I didn't want to make you sound like a hater lol. So I dub thee Bookie 📖 Anon!

Anyways thank you for the compliment, it means a lot. Also there's no right or wrong way to tag or run a discourse blog so don't worry about yours - do what feels right for you!

Funny thing is, I never use to tag things AT ALL before I start running this blog. Hell I wouldn't even link previous posts but then I started getting more related asks and it seemed logical to give context. The Emojis started recently though and they are so fun! I think only Jett and Ring Anon have come back to my asks a few times lol. I think its cool to know where they all stand on different topics instead of me assuming every anon is a different person because Uhhh that's like over 140 (I think that's how many asks I've answered since March?) people who have been talking to me and that's a daunting thought oop.

That was a fun tangent but let's get into the meat of this post!

Thank you for being so understanding, Bookie! But I'll survive and stick to my friends' fics for wholesome Sharmas ahahah. And oh, if I could I would scream about the Book Sharmas all day but I'm not that unhinged lmao. Instead I will passive aggressively hype them and their book scenes up (I did it here also wanna make some edits with the book scene quotes tacked onto S2's scenes at some point) Also want to reassure you that you did not make me feel that way at all! It was nice to have people who like flawed Sharmas' fics to be civil and open to discussion - it was a good change from the usual drama on my dash ahahah.

That being said ohmygod Bookie, spill the tea and call them out!! Who was that?? I saw another post vagueposting Mimi and I but they weren't being 'racist', just fucking rude.

But the words were hurtful and they invalidated my experience as a desi person watching the show. I know people can be quite vitriolic on both sides of the discourse, and it’s sad. But that’s the truth of fandom spaces - discourse is inevitable and I don’t have any ideas on what to do about it, lol.

Tell me about it, the invalidation in this fandom is INSANE sometimes, I mean I'll admit sometimes I am a little guilty of it but its in the name of invalidating bigots who should be drowned out because we do not need this energy here. I do hope you're feeling better now and the words didn't get to you <3 I know I said spill the tea but if you don't want to give yourself away and get involved in the drama, I totally understand! That being said if you do want to vent about that situation, my DMs and off anon asks (I can respond to you privately!) are always open if you need them.

Take care Bookie, and yes it was ard 1am (I'm in Asia, GMT+8 btw) when I posted your second ask and fell asleep soon after ahhaha. Hope you had a good dinner and can't wait to hear from you in the future!!

#Bridgerton #Bridgerton Fanfic Discourse #Bridgerton Fandom Drama #Bookie 📖 Anon #Bridgerton Asks

3 notes · View notes

styxnbones · 6 months

Note

I'm going to start a vtm campaign with a friend soon but I know fuck all about this series aside from what I've gleaned from your blog so. do you have any advice for me

one of us one of us one of us

first off, and this is generally just good advice for any game but especially with world of darkness' track record, feel free to throw out any bullshit you find in the lore. there's a lot of Yikes stuff still in there, even in 5th edition, and even more the older a resource you're drawing on. that said, there's also a lot of lore that is genuinely really cool that gets glossed over in more recent material, so if you read something in the core book that you want to know more about there's a good chance you can find more on the white wolf wiki (which, while unfortunately owned by fandom, does actually have a lot of good articles and at very least can point you at the book you actually want to look at).

Also, while vtm is often a very intense dramatic game of personal and political horror, it also very much has the range to be a bit campy and edgy as well. So, if you're making a character and you find yourself thinking "oh my god is this cringe" you should 100% lean into it and embrace the cringe. you're pretending to be a vampire pretending to not be a vampire- the world is terrible and awful and either you are or will become a tragedy, but also as a premise it's a little silly inherently and that's part of the fun.

circling back to the personal horror part- and this is again another "good advice for any game but especially in the case of vampire specifically" thing- try to make sure that everyone in the group has a really good understanding of eachothers lines and veils (hard and soft limits on what may take place in the game) and that everyone is on the same page about what kind of story you want to tell and what people want out of it. vtm will inevitably involve putting your characters through horrible things, but those horrible things should be mutually enjoyed by everyone at the table. in my experience, if you dont have a strong session 0 and regular check ins with your fellow players it can be very easy for people to overstep or simply misalign/misunderstand and end up with others getting seriously upset irl. vampires are often not good to eachother, but their players should still try to be.

one last thing- regardless of what version you're playing (since some of these are mechanical aspects in some editions and not in others) try to put a lot of thought into your character's Convictions, Ambitions, and the Nature and Demeanor of their personality. vampire is a social game more than anything else, and those aspects are really the most important part of the character- far more than what their clan or disciplines are. before anyone is ever embraced they're a human person with beliefs and goals and a way that they present themself to the world (which may or may not be true to the way they actually are), and the way that the remnants of that human person adapt and carry on through existence as a kindred are what make them really interesting.

#also if u want a link to a funky drive full of vtm and other wod books shoot me a dm perhaps

1 note · View note

noprobloroblowe · 6 months

Text

I'll be honest, I don't totally get why some blogs are out here saying they need their followers to put their exact age in their bio? Like c'mon, I'm over 18, I'm over 21, and I'm not comfortable publicly posting my exact age. Someone says "I'm over 18" and you're like "well that's obviously a lie" but someone says "I'm 25" and you're like "well how could that possibly be a lie, nobody lies that specifically" lmao

BUT if you really want to be sure I'm not a minor, I'll tell you this: I grew up blowing on N64 cartridges even though the manual said not to do that. I caught up on Lost between seasons 2 and 3 through netflix by getting the rented DVDs mailed to me, and my mind was blown when they rolled out "instant queue" which let you watch shows on your laptop. I saw Mean Girls in theaters. I saw Zac Efron become a teenage heartthrob with Bieber hair before anyone had even heard of Bieber. Does that answer your question??

EDIT: Due to recent feedback I feel I need to clarify, I'm completely fine with telling you my exact age privately if that's a boundary for you! Just shoot me a quick message and I'll let you know. What I'm not cool with is publicly posting my age, because that's a boundary for me. If that doesn't work for you, welp, I'm afraid our boundaries are at odds. A bummer to be sure, but block if you've gotta block

0 notes

russburlingame · 9 months

Text

A is for Accident

So, here goes.

A few weeks back, I was supposed to have started work on the Alphabet Superset, a project from Struthless that's aimed at helping motivate artists who are a little...stuck.

I am, strictly speaking, not stuck. I actually have more on my plate than I can handle most of the time. Still, it seemed like a cool project, and something that could help me hone some writing muscles that I don't use very often. I have a fiction project that has been percolating in the back of my mind, but it has been literally years since I wrote more than a few pages of fiction. And longer than that since I showed it to anyone.

So. The Alphabet Superset. It's a weekly challenge format, where you have a consistent theme and approach to the art, and each week you come up with a piece of work representative of that week's letter of the alphabet. I SHOULD have just started with D -- especially since I know what D is, and it's exciting! -- but I also know myself well enough to know that if I bail on A through C, I'll probably do basically none of the letters down the line.

Recently, I have been going through a bunch of my old archives to see whether there are any diamonds in the rough. So my "style" is going to be creative writing -- fiction and creative nonfiction, mostly not journalism, which is what I do the rest of my life. And the theme I'm choosing is autobiography. That doesn't mean you're going to get a lot of stuff that's super revealing about me -- although there will be some of that. It means each project will speak to a theme, an idea, or sometimes an archival project that was significant to a part of my life.

For the first installment, I'm going with "A is for Accident." The accident in question? A first-time hitman kills the wrong guy.

Oops.

This is a reworking of the first bit of 'I Got Him,' a novel I wrote once...but didn't back up before my computer was stolen. Back in the 2000s, not everything was always being loaded to the cloud. That was a rough lesson to learn, kids!

The only part of 'I Got Him' that survived was the first 40 or so pages. And I have always fantasized about bringing it back to life. This is not entirely new content, but a piece of the original version, lightly edited. I may tweak and hone a little more during a future week, but the hope here is to get myself back on track for the Alphabet.

So...here we go.

Oh, and this story takes place around 2003.

CHAPTER ONE: Somebody Got Murdered

“I got him,” Martin said into the phone. “Just like you wanted, I got him!”

“You didn’t,” Alderman said coolly, the background buzz of a crappy payphone not enough to mask his irritation.

“Best part?” Martin continued, undeterred. “I knew the bastard! Fucking comes into McVeigh’s all the time and gives me shit because his burger has mayonnaise. Like I can help it that nobody reads the ‘special order’ line.”

Alderman sighed. “What are you talking about?”

“What, I gotta say it?”

“That’s what I’m asking for.”

“How do I know the phone’s not bugged?” Martin asked, and instinctively looked around as he said it.

“Why on earth would it be?”

“Alright, fine….I killed the Zlomek guy for you.”

“Somehow I’m guessing that one of us has got something very confused here,” Alderman said, sarcasm starting to creep in around the edges of his frustration.

“How do you mean?”

“I’m very busy right now, actually. Can I call you back?”

“Oh, right, right. Fine. But we’re solid here, right? You’re going to make sure I don’t get blamed for this?”

“I really do have to go. I have a friend from work here right now,” Alderman said.

“Oh,” Martin said. “Didn’t realize. Sorry!” And then, after a pause, “We’re not on speakerphone or anything, right?”

“No, no. Eugene Zlomek is here, is all, and he’s telling me about his plans for the weekend. I think I’ve mentioned him before, right? A business acquaintance from the City.”

Martin felt his stomach fall into his testicles. “Fuck,” he said.

“That’s right.” The happiness in Alderman’s voice was the kind you only heard when businessmen were placating a customer, or an employee. Professional Happiness.

“How about I’ll call you tonight, okay? Have a drink and unwind while you wait, alright?”

Franklin Alderman didn’t wait for Martin to respond before hanging up. Martin had said, “Ri—” before realizing that nobody was on the other end, and then hung up with a petulance rarely seen in a grown man. He tapped the end of his rifle impatiently against the side of the phone booth for a minute, but his mind was moving too fast to remain focused on that, and he inadvertently put the barrel through the thin plastic panel.

The Verizon logo on the outside of the phone broke outward and away from the booth and bits of plastic rained on Martin’s hair. The reason it had rained on his hair, rather than on his shoes, is that when he heard the sound of the plastic popping and breaking away, he hit the ground in terror, dropping the gun. He was convinced that, somehow, it had gone off in the booth. Having no bullets in the chamber, though, the gun of course hadn’t go off, and continued not to do so when dropped. Suddenly he wondered what the hell he had been doing carrying the murder weapon around with him in the open to begin with.

Martin picked it up and forced it into his long, over-packed gym bag. It was nylon-and-mesh, and intended for use by baseball players (hence the length to accommodate a gun). It was loaded up with shorts and towels, on the off chance that anyone should want to take a look through it and Martin couldn’t dissuade them. The bag had a Champion logo on the top of it, which Martin couldn’t help but feel was a little ironic riding next to his face at the moment, while he tried to figure out how he botched his job so badly and who, exactly, he had killed.

He jogged to his car—a red, 1991 Ford Mustang LX waiting at the curb about fifteen feet from the payphone—and jumped in. He tossed the Champion bag in the back and shifted gears all at the same time, in one motion as though the release of the bag by his left arm had caused the right one to pull the lever between his front seats. The car failed to roar to life, but gurgled a bit, and rolled down the street in the way that 1991 Mustangs are wont to do.

The street was well-lit for the night drive home, and Martin was thinking of his terrible mistake, wondering what would happen next, when he saw the lights of a police car in his rearview mirror. He looked at the digital clock he had fastened to the dash when all of the vehicle’s interior lighting had failed months before. It read 1:39, which meant it had been a little more than forty-five minutes since Martin had killed someone who was not Eugene Zlomek.

He grabbed the pack of cigarettes from his dashboard and took one out. He lit it with a Zippo from his jacket pocket because the cigarette lighter in the Mustang had been removed by the previous owner, who thought he had been improving the transmission at the time. He rolled down the passenger side window and blew the smoke from his cigarette in that direction. He leaned onto the passenger seat and opened the glove box.

The police officer, carrying a flashlight that was completely unnecessary given the intensity of the spotlight he had pointed at Martin’s rearview mirror, used it to tap on the driver’s side window. Martin opened the driver’s door a crack and half-shouted out it.

“The window doesn’t open, Officer,” Martin apologized. “Wiring’s all screwed.”

“Can I see your license, registration and insurance card, please?” The policeman asked, with no clear indication that he understood or cared what Martin had said about the state of the Mustang.

“Absolutely. Hold on a minute.” Martin felt a cold sweat coming on as he rifled through the open glove box. He coughed a little on the cigarette, as he didn’t smoke. Instead, he had lit up to mask the odor of smoke in the car.

Having worn gloves for the killing, Martin thought that maybe they would have gunpowder residue on them, and started the light them on fire in the bushes outside the

Zlomek house. But when people inside realized that someone—not, apparently, Eugene

Zlomek—had been killed, they started to mill around by the window and Martin had felt

obliged to get out of there, carrying—in his dazed panic and hurry—his flaming gloves

with him. The smell of smoke was very strong in the car, and he had made use of some

very old, very cheap cigarettes a friend had left in the car months ago. He sat upright in

the driver’s seat, passing his license and insurance card to the patrolman outside.

“I can’t find the registration,” Martin said. “Can you take it off the windshield?”

The patrolman shone his unnecessary flashlight at the windshield to confirm that

there was, in fact, a registration on the car. “I’ll get it from the plates,” he said, and

walked to the front of the car, shining the flashlight some more.

The officer walked back to the open door. “Where is your front license plate?”

He asked.

“Vanished a few weeks ago; haven’t had time to report it,” Martin said honestly.

“You’d better.”

“I will.”

“Next time,” the cop warned, “you’ll get a ticket.”

“Is that why you pulled me over, Officer?”

“I’ll tell you when I get back.”

“I wasn’t speeding, was I?”

“I’ll talk to you when I get back,” the officer said, increasingly frustrated.

The patrolman walked back to his car, clicking the flashlight on and off, and then

sat in the driver’s seat for what seemed to Martin to be a very long time. Finally he got

out of the car, still hefting his flashlight.

“What’s that smell?” Asked the police officer when Martin reopened the door for

him.

“Smell?”

“Smoke. Do you have an exhaust problem, too?”

“Not that I know of. Maybe my cigarette?”

“Is it cloves or something?” The cop asked.

“No, just very cheap.”

“Hm. Maybe.” He straightened up. “Mr. Bidwell, do you know why I pulled

you over?”

“Because I have no front license plate?” Martin ventured.

“No.”

“Oh. In that case, I’m not really sure.”

“Have you been drinking?”

“No. Absolutely not. I’ve never had a drink in my life.”

“That sounds very defensive,” said the police officer, shining his flashlight around

inside the car.

“No, Officer. Just definitive.”

“Do your headlights work?”

Martin looked at the switch on his dashboard which controlled the headlights. It

was in the “Off” position.

“Shit,” Martin said.

“That’s what I thought when I saw you barreling down the road like that,” said the

patrolman.

“I just pulled away from the gas station about two miles back. This is a very well-

lit road…!”

“I understand. Are you related to Jonathan Bidwell?”

“My second-cousin.”

“His father was on my softball team last year.”

“Mike’s a great guy.”

“Yeah….I’m not going to ticket you tonight. Just be a little more with-it, okay?”

“Thanks.”

“No problem. And get your exhaust checked. I don’t think that’s tobacco.”

“Thanks.”

The patrolman walked back to his car and sat in it while Martin pulled back into traffic, turning on his headlights and blinker. In the back seat, the odor of the burning evidence still lingered. He left the passenger window down to get rid of it.

-----

“…But it’s trash, Doug!” Irwin shouted.

Irwin Shaw was sitting on a rolling chair in an office of white-painted concrete,

shouting emphatically at a stooped, wrinkled man whose white, bushy hair and lively eyes left even his best friends wondering how old he actually was. The man, his editor, walked away toward his own office and Irwin stood to follow him.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s trash, Shaw,” Doug told him. “What you did was unwarranted.”

“Completely unwarranted,” Irwin agreed, in a way that expressed a total lack of enthusiasm for, or interest in, Doug’s assessment.

“You wrote—let’s see…” Doug rustled papers around on his desk theatrically until he found one that he wanted. He squinted at it, opened his mouth to speak and then closed it again.

Then he threw that paper at the ground, and picked up another one instead. He looked pleased with this new acquisition.

“You wrote, ‘…where the only thing greasier than the fish fry and warm beer is the middle-aged barmaid who flirts with everyone under eighty.’”

“It’s true. The facts all check; I have quotes from seven regular customers.”

“I don’t care about your ridiculous quotes. You know you can’t say that shit.”

“Why not?”

“You know damned well why not,” Doug growled, withdrawing a pair of reading glasses from his paper-covered desk and putting them on top of his head as if he may wear them eventually, but not right now.

“I can’t tell the truth about the places I’m supposed to ‘review’ because they’re our advertisers and they might get mad if someone points out how shitty their bars really are.”

Irwin had used air quotes to emphasize his point when he said the word “review.”

“Not bars, Irwin. Clubs.”

“Three quarters of what you send me to cover for the ‘Local Clubs’ column are just crappy bars that have local cover bands playing on systems too loud for the rooms they’re in.”

“Tanner’s called. They won’t advertise with us anymore.”

“That’s not such a bad thing,” Irwin said. “I don’t think I would want our paper associated with that dive anyway.”

“No, no, no. That’s a very bad thing. Where do you think your salary comes from?”

“Salary?! You’re crazy. I get twenty bucks a story. That’s not a salary, that’s money for gas and food to get to, and then do, the story. And the food’s hardly ever any good. But I’m not complaining about the money, trust me. Play money for play journalism. It all makes sense.”

“I told you when you took over this column that the food is free at the clubs you’re writing up,” Doug sighed, putting his head in his hands and knocking the reading glasses askew, then taking them off and putting them back on the desk.

“I’m glad you think that; the bar owners don’t seem to have been told.”

There was a knock on the door, and a young, husky man with very black hair came in wearing a t-shirt that said, “Dammit—I Did Not Have Sexual Relations With That Woman Either.”

The young man said, “Mister Hooper? We really need you out here. It’s almost two,” and left in such a hurry, it was obvious that he was either very busy, or hoping to dodge Doug’s reply.

“Okay, Irwin. You’re off this column.”

“Doesn’t that have to wait until the real editors get here in the morning?” Irwin asked with a smirk.

“No. You run in my edition. And I already talked to Brad.”

“So, I’m fired?”

“No, you still have your other column.”

“Gee, thanks. You know, that one was also a lot more interesting before you guys started to get…”

Doug cut him off. “…And for the next few weeks, until we figure out what else you’re good for, I want you on newsdesk during this shift.”

“What?”

“General assignment.”

“I’m—what? Demoted? How does that even work, when you pay by the story?”

“Not demoted. The new Local Club writer came out of that slot. I just need you there until we fill it.”

“Roger is taking over the Club column?” Irwin choked on the statement, and caught his body trying to laugh without permission.

“Yes. Is there a problem with Roger, too?”

“Not at all, Doug. It suits him.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?” Doug asked, a vein in his head starting to throb.

“Your nephew’s not really a reporter, he’s just the nephew of an editor.”

Doug's face started to turn red, and he rose in from his seat, but Irwin continued. “That column isn’t really reporting, as I said, just kind of masturbation of our sponsors…”

The young man came back to the doorway, still looking harried. “Mister Hooper? It’s almost two.”

“Still?” Doug shouted.

The young man missed the sarcasm, and paused for a second before darting away to process it, as though the question might be a trick.

“…Yes?” He responded hesitantly.

“I’m coming,” Doug said to the young man, and then to Irwin he said, “Get out of my office. I just got like nine e-mails in two minutes, so something must be happening. Go check the places you go check.”

“Will do, Skipper. By the way, nice office you have here.”

“Yeah, Doug said, ushering everyone out the door. “It used to be a bathroom, but the Department of Health said it was too small for that. Now get out of it.”

“I see,” Irwin said, “You’ve gotta take a leak.”

Doug slammed the door.

Irwin walked around the corner behind him and was standing next to the computers that were set to receive e-mails from wire services, freelance writers and letters to the editor. Two of them were idling, waiting for a password to unlock them so that they may crash freely. On a third, there was an e-mail program open. This, Irwin knew, was the computer that John Ramsay, the editor in charge of the Op-Ed section, used to receive all of his e-mail. Irwin sat in front of the computer and looked up the e-mail preferences.

Ramsay had set the computer, apparently, to filter out pornography, letters from a recently-fired Sentinel employee and anything with a subject heading containing nasty language. Irwin knew that there had been some very, very unpleasant language used in a some recent letters to the editor, mostly directed at Ramsay’s mother after a story he’d written on why it was necessary to enforce dog-leash laws that were already on the city’s books. Irwin changed the settings so that anything containing any one of several nasty words would be forwarded to Ramsay’s home e-mail account and marked with a little red flag that said “Urgent!” if you held the mouse over it for a second.

He also turned on an auto-reply feature that would tell anyone e-mailing letters to the editor that The Editor had been “…eaten by a rampaging groundhog, and that future e-mails should be directed to:” and then Ramsay’s personal e-mail address again.

He skated sideways on the rolling chair, then, and punched his own password into another computer to see what had been coming in while he was in Doug’s office.

A few headlines popped onscreen: “Fire at Soup Company Kills 11.” “Classical Pianist Arthur Dent Dies at Age 67.” “French Language More Prevalent In Michigan, Study Shows.”

He printed off each of these and left them sitting on a desk for the news desk reporter to find in the morning, then he walked toward the door.

“Where are you going, Shaw?” Shouted Doug Hooper from a light table where he was looking at the next edition of the Sentinel.

“My People of Interest column,” Irwin said.

“I’ve already got it!”

“The next one.”

“What was on the wires?”

“Gerard Depardieu in Detroit.”

“Just go home, Shaw,” Doug said, waving at him irritably, looking down at the table, then feeling on the top of his head for the reading glasses that were no longer there.

It was 1:40 in the morning when Irwin Shaw left the offices of The Sentinel.

It was 6:51 the next morning when he finally arrived at home. At 1:46, as he was turning into his driveway, Irwin had heard on the police scanner in his car that a man had been found dead about four miles from where Irwin lived.

He arrived at the address of the death five minutes ahead of The Sentinel’s police reporter, Jim Smith. Jim was a tall, jolly guy whose writing was as bland as his name and who didn’t really care if other reporters hijacked his stories. He’d just been working the same beat for so long, it was like getting paid to hang out with his friends in blue.

The house was enormous, but other than that pretty unremarkable. It was white with black shutters, squarish, and had what appeared to be about one window for every room in its three sprawling stories. All of the windows were the same; there was no picture window visible on any of the three sides of the house that Irwin could see either from the road or from his current position in the driveway.

Irwin, flashing his press badge to no one in particular, stepped up near the front door of the house where the police and the press had already set up shop. There was a police line, and just outside of it a handful of uniformed police officers were talking in subdued tones to a young man and woman in their early- or mid-twenties. The young man looked vaguely familiar, but it was the kind of familiarity that easily could have come from living so near to one another and shopping in the same places. Irwin couldn't place him.

The police didn't seem to be talking to the young man and the young woman as much as talking to the young woman and tolerating the young man being there, his hands on the girl's shoulders obviously being integral to keeping her from falling apart. The young man looked around him, and his eyes were red. He glanced through the crowd, fixed on Irwin for a second, and then looked away. There didn’t seem to have been any indication of recognition from the young man in the second they'd made eye contact.

The officer who had been talking to the young couple turned his back and headed indoors, and the couple sat on the bottom step of the house's big, all-wooden porch.

Irwin hung his head, took a reporter's notebook out of the pocket of his gray trench coat and approached them slowly. He spoke, first, to the girl, who had obviously been crying. Her eyes were red and puffy, her hair mussed. There was blood on her shirt, which had been partially covered by the brown corduroy jacket slung over her body. The young man next to her didn't look much better.

"I'm sorry," Irwin started. "I know this is a terrible time, but can I ask you a few things?"

"Who are you?" The girl choked out.

"Irwin Shaw, with The Sentinel."

"Oh. Press."

"Yeah. We always know just where we're needed the least, and that's more or less where we're paid to be. I live right down the way, so my editor figured I might know you guys,. Your brother looks a little familiar."

The young man didn't move, didn't respond. He didn't seem to be acknowledging Irwin at all.

"He's not my brother," the girl corrected. "My fiancé. This is James. His father is...was...he's the son."

"Of the one who passed?"

"Right."

Irwin looked at the young man, whose dark hair was longish and unkempt and who appeared to have been rousted from his sleep to come to the crime scene; he was wearing sweat pants, a mesh shirt and slippers. His eyes were also red with exhaustion and tears.

"I'm sorry for your loss, James," Irwin said, but the young man didn't respond.

The girl chimed in quietly: “What do you need, Mister…hmm…I’m sorry, forgot already…?”

“That’s okay. It happens. Irwin Shaw, Sentinel. You’ve had a long night.”

“So do you know what’s happened?” She asked him.

“I heard on the police scanner that someone was found dead here.”

“Yes, James’ father.”

“You said,” Irwin led her on. “What happened?”

“He was murdered. Shot.”

“Was anyone else in the house at the time?”

“He was shot through the window.”

“Are they absolutely sure about that?”

“I don’t know if they are, but I am. I was in the next room.”

Where was James here? In bed?”

“Yeah, in bed…at home…” the girl seemed flustered. “…At his house. Sorry. I don’t usually talk to the press.”

“You’re fine,” Irwin reassured her, “You’re doing fine. What’s your name, though?” He was scratching out the first notes in his pad.

“My name? It’s Michelle Zlomek. This is my house.”

“You live here alone?”

“No. It’s my dad’s house. I live here. I’m not out of college yet.”

“Where do you go?”

“I’d rather not say.”

“Okay…”

“Don’t you want to know about who was killed?”

“I was coming around to that.”

“His name was Lowe. Edward Lowe.”

“Name sounds familiar.”

“He was the CEO of Keystone Security,” James said. His voice was so hoarse and quiet that it took Irwin a second to realize that he was being addressed.

“We did a feature on them not long ago,” Irwin said, turning to James and trying to keep from seeming put off. “They’re local.”

“Yeah,” James said.

“Was there any reason why anyone would be wanting to kill your father, James?”

“Plenty.”

“Want to tell me some of them?”

“Not really.”

“Want to tell me who? I might be able to bring them to justice….”

“I thought that was the police.”

“Them, too,” Irwin quipped, trying his hardest not to sound overly glib and failing.

“I think I’ll stick with them. They’re kind of officially doing it.”

“They’re just part of the Executive Branch. The press is the Fourth Estate.”

“I am greatly disturbed by the death of my father, which comes as a shock to our family,” James said. It sounded as though he were reading from a script. “I look forward to seeing his killer brought to justice and will support the law enforcement community in any way I can during the investigation.”

“Wow,” Irwin said.

“Is that what you needed?” James asked, ice in his tone. “A comment?”

“Did you kill your father, James?”

“Fuck off.”

“I’ll fuck off in just a minute. Just wanted you to know—if you give a press conference and make a remark that shallow, in that tone of voice, anyone who sees you on TV will think that you killed Edward Lowe.”

“Off the record?”

“That all depends.”

“I already know who killed him. I also know they’ll never be held accountable. I just don’t know what I’m going to do about it yet.”

“Tell me what you think. Maybe I can get some evidence to supply to the police.”

“Why can’t I just tell it to the police?”

“Or that.”

“You’ve got my statement, Mr. Shaw. Please just go away now.”

“Miss? I forget your name.” He looked down at his scrawled notes. “Michelle!”

“What?” She sighed.

“Why was Mr. Lowe at your house so late?”

“My father works with Ed at Keystone.”

“What’s your father’s name?”

“Zlomek.”

“His first name?”

“Just go read some press releases or something,” James hissed. “I’m sure you can put it all together.”

“Thanks for the help,” Irwin said.

He stood, much to the chagrin of his knees and ankles, and turned around. He almost walked into a uniformed police officer who was making a beeline for something important.

“Whoa! Sorry,” Irwin said. “Irwin Shaw. Sentinel. Got a minute?”

“No,” the cop said, and tried to sidestep Irwin, who followed his movement.

“How about half of one?”

The cop’s jaw tensed for a second and then relaxed. “What do you want?”

“Whose house is this?”

“No comment.”

“What relation is he to the deceased?”

“No comment.”

“I hear he worked with the victim. What’s the homeowner do?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did you know that Lowe was the CEO?”

“Yes.”

“But you don’t know what Zlomek was? Is.”

“No.”

“You guys got on this pretty quick. I don’t live far.”

“I was in the area.”

“Doing what?” Irwin wondered if there was evidence to be had, which a slow patrolman might not put together and might, therefore, accidentally expose to the press.

“Someone busted in the side of a phone booth.”

“Sounds thrilling,” Irwin said, “What’s your name?”

“Shane Norton.”

“Thanks.”

Irwin put his pad and pen back in the pocket of his coat without having written anything about a vandalized payphone.

---

Martin’s phone was ringing.

He had been sitting up in bed for over three hours, waiting for the call, but he was slow to answer. On the small coffee table in front of his television was the morning’s paper. On the front page, with a tabloid-sized headline, was a story about a CEO of a locally-owned, New York-based company having been shot to death at his partner’s house the night before.

“Edward Lowe, 53, of Brick was killed last night in Red Bank….Lowe, the CEO of Keystone Security, was shot through the window of 212 Marsh Drive….The building belongs to Eugene Zlomek, Lowe’s business partner and the CFO of Keystone.”

Martin had killed Edward Lowe. Edward Lowe, the annoying bastard who always came into work and bitched about his cheeseburger. For a moment, Martin was struck by the pettiness of a millionaire—someone who obviously could have gone to a better establishment after one or two disappointments and left Martin the hell alone—coming every single day and bitching about mayonnaise. The thought, though, was hard-pressed to remain long in Martin’s mind, given the thoughts it was fighting for attention and the ringing of the phone that Martin knew could not possibly be good news.

“Yes?” He answered, tired and anxious and not at all happy to be alive.

“Martin, how are you?” Came Alderman’s voice from the other end of the phone; his good cheer was infinitely more frightening than if he had just called and started shouting.

I’m so sorry I fucked up, Mr. Alderman,” Martin said into the phone, so fast he could hardly be understood. “Please give me another shot—chance. I’ll fix things.”

“There’s nothing to fix. I’ve got things under control on my end, I think. You’re not going to be paid for this travesty, certainly. You did, after all, screw up the job rather severely…but you had the right idea and you got away without implicating any of us.”

“Thank you, Sir. Do do I…?”

“I want him dead by Friday, and I don’t want it in the papers. I don’t want my people to hear about it until it’s too late to be helped. This is kind of against the rules.” His sinister, faux-European voice paused to assume a more professional air. “Zlomek will be named CEO on Friday if he’s still alive when the Board meets in emergency session to discuss the passing of Mr. Lowe. At that point, he’ll become very useful to us. I’d rather he didn’t; he’s a prick and I don’t want to work with him for the rest of my days.”

“And you’re sure there’s nobody listening on the other end of the phone, right? I mean, I’ll get away with this, right?”

“The only thing that could get you in trouble now, Martin—is if you keep asking that. It’s really very unprofessional. It’ll give people the wrong idea.”

“Sorry.”

“Quite alright,” Alderman said. “I’ll call you when I hear that Zlomek is dead. In the meantime, you just sit tight.”

Before Martin could say goodbye, Alderman hung up the phone. Martin sat for a second, scowling at this indignity, and then hung up the phone and silently threw himself at, more than into, his huge blue easy chair. He picked up the remote control from the seat, flicked on the television and caught the news:

“Edward Lowe, President and CEO of Keystone Security, was killed late last night at the home of the company’s CFO Eugene Zlomek. This could spell more trouble for Keystone, whose bid to take over CopCo fell through very publicly last month and whose stock has been steadily declining since rumors surfaced that the company could face charges relating to union-busting. Lowe’s family says they intend to release a statement this afternoon. Keystone, meanwhile…” and Martin switched the channel. On HBO, they were playing a documentary about Lenny Bruce, and Martin left it there while he closed his eyes and tried to decide whether to cry or just take a nap until the phone started ringing again.

---

Irwin's phone was ringing.

After having filed the late-night story on the murder of Edward Lowe, Irwin had returned home and slept. His sheets were tossed everywhere, and there was a pretty clear trail of disorder from where Irwin had entered the dark room the night before, to where he'd hopped onto bed. In that trail were all of the pieces of junk that he had stepped on before falling asleep at five in the morning. He could see it all now, with his clear eyes and the light flooding the cheap lace curtains of the bedroom.

Monumentally disoriented, Irwin faced the wall and reached out. His hand struck the wall and he turned back around and reached out again, this time grabbing at his alarm clock.

"Yallo?" he muttered into the phone when, after its fifth ring, he finally had it in his hand.

"Shaw, what the hell were you thinking?" Hooper demanded.

"Say again?"

"I said, 'What the hell were you thinking?' Last night."

"Last night, I was thinking, 'I should hand in this story to Doug, so that he'll stop bitching.' Shows you Daffy Duck was right when he said it doesn't pay to think."

"Smartass. Stop screwing around. You were hounding someone else's story."

"Oh, come off it. You know he doesn't care."

"We have to have some semblance of order here, Shaw."

"It didn't seem to bother you last night; they said they were planning on running it on the front page."

"They did."

"Great. So what are you complaining about?"

And Irwin hung up.

Of course, I didn't know any of this yet. I figured it all out later.

"Blah-blah-blah!" The TV told me. I had been, for the previous hour, watching an HBO special on Lenny Bruce. Sunk low in a star-spangled camping chair in the living room of my small apartment, I stared vacantly at the television, too exhausted to either change the channel or take in the information in any meaningful way. My phone rang, and I ignored it. Finally, the answering machine kicked in.

"I don't know how you got this number," my voice came from the machine, "but there must be a good reason for it if you did. So state that reason and maybe I'll get back to you." There was then a series of beeps long enough to irritate all but the most persistent caller.

"Mr. Abernathy, we need to talk," a voice said. I cocked my head a little bit and hit the mute key on the remote control. Lenny Bruce was silent, but the TV continued to buzz with electrical life. The caller pressed on. "I believe that someone has tried to kill me. I was fortunate in that they failed, but I'm worried they may try again. I also have...fears...about the legal ramifications for me of their failed attempt. Please return my call at 200-8870. I will pay handsomely."

I clicked the sound on the television back on and mulled over what he had said. I already knew who he was, of course--it had been all over the papers about Ed Lowe at Keystone. There are only so many people who can afford my services, so there isn't a lot of room for coincidences in these matters.

There were only four or five people who could be calling me, asking for my help in this particular circumstance: Board members fo Keystone. I knew off the bat that I could count Mrs. O'Keefe out, clearly, and probably Bill Munger, too. He was too good a guy to be in a compromising position and too hapless to realize it even if he was. Also unlikely was Vittorio Graves, who was too old to be a suspect without a really solid motive--which nobody yet knew he had. That left the CFO, Eugene Zlomek. He made sense as a suspect; unfriendly, corrupt, young and strong...and the murder had happened at his house. So of course he hadn't done it, but the police would be positive he had.

Shit. I had to do this, didn't I?

I tuned off the television and sunk lower in my chair, closed my eyes and bowed my head. Might as well get some sleep.

#alphabet superset #murder mystery #struthless

1 note · View note