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standfucker · 1 year

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Finding Out You’re Stronger Than Them - Logia Edition (Smoker + Ace)

Feeling very stuck with my WIPS lately, so I decided to try my hand at a bullet-point style drabble. Ace’s and Smoker’s went fine, but Crocodile’s and Kuzan’s immediately grew into something too big for a bullet point list and will be posted separately, if I can get them to a point I’m happy with. Have these two for now.

CW: Just a little bit of violence

Ao3 Link

Smoker

You’ve been rising quickly through the ranks. Smoker’s heard that you’re strong, but by the time you get assigned to him, he has yet to see it for himself.

You’ve followed all of his orders thus far, and past reports on your behavior are generally positive, so when you block him from chasing a pirate one day, he’s taken by surprise.

“This one’s innocent. I saw it for myself. He’s trying to support the village.” You get into stance, eyes blazing with defiance, fully ready to take on your captain.

“It doesn’t make a difference,” Smoker says. “He’s still a pirate.”

“He only stole from nobles. People who wouldn’t miss the wealth. It makes every difference.”

“Get out of the way.”

“No.”

He turns into smoke to go around you, but you grab at where his ankle would be, your haki forcing his body back into shape, and swing him into the ground with such force that stars dot his vision as the wind is knocked out of him.

No one told him you could use armament haki.

“I’m stronger than you. Don’t get a big head because you’re my superior. I’ll surpass you soon.”

“I could have you court-martialed for this,” he gasps.

“Then do it. See if I care. That person was innocent–I know I did the right thing. I don’t give a shit about your opinion,” you pause, then add, “Captain.”

You crouch next to him as he struggles to sit up, still dizzy from the brutal impact. Picking up his cigars that have fallen, you dust them off before sticking one back in his mouth and putting the other in yours. You take an experimental puff, wrinkle your nose at the taste, and deftly twirl the cigar between your fingers. He finds himself staring as you exhale, smoke curling around your profile.

“I requested to be transferred to your unit because Tashigi told me you were different from the others,” you say, and pop the second cigar into his mouth as well. “So don’t disappoint me, Captain.”

The blush on his face is from indignation, or that’s what he tells himself. It’s the audacity. You have some nerve to talk to him that way. To lay your hands on a superior, to obstruct the law.

And yet. He shouldn’t, but a part of him–a big part of him–can’t help but admire your conviction. Enough so that he doesn’t report your insubordination.

It’s always refreshing to find a soldier who thinks for themselves, but it’s also dangerous if you cross the wrong superiors. (God forbid you talk back to someone like Akainu, which Smoker knows you would do without hesitation.)

Smoker will have to keep an eye on you, to make sure you don’t get into trouble you can’t get out of…

Ace

One day, Ace realizes that in all the months since he’s officially joined the crew, he’s never seen you fight, not even to spar.

When he asks Marco about it, he says, “Oh, that’s because of the collateral damage, yoi.” Ace thinks Marco is joking and laughs. Marco does not.

But can you blame Ace? You’re one of the gentlest pirates in the fleet. You’re the kind of person who stops crewmates from squishing bugs, and who’s so stricken by the dead dogs at the end of your novels that you cry for days afterward (getting to hold you when you seek him out for comfort rules, but why you keep reading those, he does not know.)

After a battle with an enemy crew, one in which you don’t participate, Ace asks some crewmates why you abstained.

“Same reason Pops doesn’t join the small fights,” Haruta says. “Too messy, you know?”

“Wait, just how strong is Y/n?” Ace says, now realizing Marco was being serious earlier.

“Don’t worry about it, Ace,” you say behind him, making him jump. “Just know I’m stronger than you.”

That stings his pride, enough so that he challenges you to a friendly match while crewmates exchange glances.

“Sure, after you’ve rested from this fight. I’d hate to have a handicap.”

“I’m not tired! I can take you right here, right now.”

“Right now?” At Ace’s nod, you shrug. “Well, okay then. Here I go!”

You vanish.

He can’t sense you anywhere. By the time he figures out you’re behind him, it’s too late. One of your hands wraps around the back of his neck, the other on the hem of his pants. When he can’t escape by turning into flames, he knows you’re using haki.

You proceed to slam him face-first into the deck so hard he breaks straight through it, stuck upside down in the wood. The crewmates on the floor below blink up at him.

“You challenged Y/n, didn’t you,” one of them says.

Once his head stops swimming, Ace pulls himself out. His nose is broken and bleeding and he’s covered in scratches and splinters, but he’s looking at you with a newfound sense of awe.

“Logia types,” you shake your head, lip curling, “always so full of themselves.” Then you look stricken. “Oh, I hurt Moby again... Pops will scold me…”

And, look.

Ace knows what he likes. He’s not ashamed to say he found the whole thing extremely hot, but he has the decency to keep it to himself. (Literally the entire crew could tell, but no one tells Ace that either.)

He can’t stop thinking about the fight (if it could even be called that.) He stays awake at night, picturing the way your mouth moved when you said ‘Logia types,’ the little smirk afterward. He had always liked you, but now there’s a newfound aspect to his attraction, and he’s down bad.

Ace wants to know even more about you after that, asking you about your history and how you learned to fight. Luckily, you don’t mind the attention, and your humoring him feeds into his ego until he’s practically following you around in his free time. The rest of the crew takes notice, teasing him about being your shadow–but you never complain, so why should he care?

You've been spending lots of time together since then. He keeps fantasizing about saying “my partner can kick your ass” to people, but he hasn’t actually asked you out yet. It’s unlike him to be so gun-shy, yet every time he works up the nerve to ask, he only gets as far as “Hey, Y/n?” before your sparkly-eyed, saccharine “Yes, Ace?” crumbles his confidence to dust. But he’s Fire-Fist Ace, damn it! He faced Pops alone to save his crew, so why is this so difficult?

If he asks the other Division Commanders for help, expect a Looney Tunes style sequence of each one suggesting a courting method and it failing spectacularly and going up in literal flames, until he finally gets so frustrated with the whole thing he ends up just shouting his confession.

Bonus:

“There, there,” Ace says, patting your back while you cling to him and sob into his shoulder. “It’s just a stupid book.”

That was the wrong thing to say. With your emotions already running high, your misery shifts to rage in an instant.

“YOU JUST DON’T UNDERSTAND THE BOND BETWEEN A KID AND THEIR DOG BECAUSE YOU ATE EVERY ANIMAL YOU ENCOUNTERED GROWING UP!!” you wail, then hiccup, sob, and bury your face into his chest.

Ace wisely decides not to point out the food scarcity of his home island. There are better times, and at least you’re holding him tight...

#one piece imagines #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #smoker x reader #smoker one piece #portgas d ace #one piece x reader #zen writes

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spamgyu · 7 months

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hii !! it's my first time requesting to you but can I request for something like giving mingyu kisses with red lipstick on after he comes back from paris (I'm tryna distract myself from that dior fit but he still looked too good nonetheless 😔) thank you!!!!!

So what I'm hearing is you want me DEAD

Alright.... let's do this

Tweaked the request a bit .....

LA VIE EN ROSE – MINGYU DRABBLE

*NOTE: this is not edited sorry. Brain rot is so bad.

"Baby," The heavy door of their shared hotel suite shut behind Mingyu as he called out for you. "I'm back."

"Bathroom!" You called out.

It wasn't long before he appeared at the door way, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you wipe away your eye make-up – a soft smile on his lips.

"How was the show?" You turned to face him, putting a pause to your night routine.

"Crazy," He let out a soft chuckle, recalling to the crowd that had showered him with love just outside the venue. "I wish you could have seen it."

Upon hearing that he had a schedule in the city of love, Mingyu didn't think twice to bring you along – convincing his managers that you needed to be there for your own work purposes.

Which wasn't much of a lie, attending shows of your own favorite brands for research purposes.

It was a silly excuse all that mattered was that it worked and you were there with him. More importantly, looking quite beautiful in the all black attire you had managed to put together; a leather mini skirt with graphic hoodie that seemed to swallow your frame, paired with knee high boots and trench coat.

And even more the better that you were wearing his favorite shade of lip color – a matte red, bringing all the attention to the soft pillows he loved the most.

"I think I saw a bit of it on twitter." You smiled, walking over to him – slinging your arms around his neck. "You're drooling."

Mingyu laughed, reaching up to wipe the corner of his lips as his other hand rested at your hips. "How was yours?"

"Great, the marketing team loved the collection." Your gaze mirroring his – the two of you may have been conversing about your day but both of your minds were on one thing and one thing only.

Each other's lips.

"So how long do I have to keep this up before you let me kiss you?" Mingyu hummed, his head dipping dangerously close to yours.

"Do what?" You asked playfully, brushing your lips against his before pulling back – earning a pout from him.

"You're so annoying." His grip tightened, pulling you against his chest – a little too rough, you may add, causing you to stumble and your lips landing on the collar of his shirt.

Leaving a faint mark of your lips behind.

"Babe!" You gasped, knowing that he had to return the shirt by the end of the trip.

"You're right, I'll be in deep shit. Probably get an earful and I'll most likely be so sad." He feigned the same reaction as yours. "I think a kiss will make it better."

Giggling, you knew there was no winning – not that you cared. You had left the hotel before him earlier in the day and did not get the chance to see him when he had been in full Dior clothing and beauty.

And maybe it was for the best, because had you seen how gorgeous he looked, he might have not made it to the show without traces of your red lips all over his face... and neck.

You remembered sitting in the hired car, scrolling through social media and seeing all images of your boyfriend roll in – looking absolutely breathtaking in the midst of the crowd.

"Is that so?"

Mingyu nodded, his bottom lip jutted out.

"Well then, I guess" You sighed, your nose brushing against his. "I just have to."

"Maybe even make out, I don't know." He mumbled against your lips, before taking your bottom lip between his – smiling briefly at the thought of the color messily transferring on his skin as your lips and tongues slowly moved against each other.

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@thegirlwhoimagined @forcheol @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @f4iryjjosh @akeminy @yonabutnotyuna @tacosandbitch @aaniag @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter @xbaekcult @alwaysalmostthere @ashkuuuu @morkswatermelonnnnn @isabellah29 @lottogyu @bubbly-moon @lllucere @bo-fairykim @pluviophile-xxx @daegutowns @jenoxygen @niktwazny303 @aahvii @fragmentof-indifference @leah-rose03 @haolistic @eclliipsed @joshuahongnumbers @gyuguys @yaaaridk @christinewithluv @yoonzinoooo @livelikejinki @watercolureyes @whoa-jo @primoisellerose

#..........well.... now i need to go kiss him #or maybe kill myself #mingyu drabble #mingyu x y/n #mingyu x you #mingyu x reader #spamwrites #mingyu fic #spamquest

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heyidkyay · 2 years

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Blueberry Muffin |

Okay, haven't posted anything much like this before but I've been sick, bored out of my mind, and have recently gotten reacquainted with my love for The 1975. So here's a cringy and crappy short fic for all my Matty Healy fans:) Just a forewarning, this hasn't been edited.

Summary: London, its many strangers, and a whole lot of guessing..?

Mentions: anxiety, food

Fuck.

Fuck-fuck-fucking-fuck.

The grit of my teeth had long since begun to hurt my jaw as I ground them together, but I paid it no mind and just continued to aimlessly tap away at my upper thigh. Questioning, once again, why I had forced myself into another one of these situations. Fucking London.

It wasn’t that I was some sort of recluse or anything like that, promise. It’s just that somedays my anxiety grew so intense it made me want to hide away from everything and anything. Even myself.

But I’d had a somewhat decent nights sleep and woke up feeling alright, so I’d decided to venture out into the city to pick up some things I’d been putting off for a while now. December had come and gone, Christmas a bleary haze, and now that the January sales had finally died down, I figured that things might not be as hectic as they typically were so that I could just pop in and out.

I really should’ve known better.

London, even on the slowest of all days, was nothing if not polluted by people. And if there was one thing you could truly rely on, was that not a single one of them gave a shit about you. No, there was none of that Northern politeness here down south. And Central was the worst for it.

Still, it was home, and most days I liked the feeling of being nearly invisible. Because the city was also so incredibly easy to lose yourself in, you could blend seamlessly into the masses and nobody would be none the wiser. Yeah, there was a bump to the shoulder here, and the beep of an oncoming cab there. But no one remembered your face, or even the unhelpful apology that usually followed without a second glance.

Albeit saying that, here I was, stood on some random street corner, somewhere between Carnaby and Soho, outside a cafe or some other, struggling to resemble the simple act of appearing calm.

I was beyond ready to just head home, but knowing the underground like I did and the thought of having to sit within such a close proximity to a hundred other commuters was not something I felt like would help very much at this moment. So I’d ultimately decided to just head over to the nearest coffee shop and grab myself a brew. But yet, I was still stood here, agonising over the fact that to do exactly that, I would ultimately have to go inside and interact with even more people.

It seemed that my anxiety was winning the war this time around, because I just could not see myself doing it. So instead, I kept loitering, letting my eyes roam over the rest of the people that passed by me blissfully unaware.

As mad as London was, it was also one of the best places to people-watch, there were thousands of people constantly bustling there way around and each of them wore some part of their story on their person. Whether it was a wine stained blouse, an exaggerated yawn, or a neon coloured mohawk peaking ten inches above an otherwise balding head.

So I found myself just idly watching as I took a moment to breathe, propping myself up against the nearest brick wall.

There were a bunch of school lads pissing about a little down the way, shoving and laughing amongst themselves whilst a couple of older women shook their heads in passing. I rolled my eyes and transferred my attention. I couldn’t help but chuckle under my breath at the grinning toddler who then blew past, a struggling parent staggering behind.

The wind today seemed gentle, although a tad bit cold, so I dragged the sleeves of my jumper down over my hands in an attempt to warm them slightly. It was then that a larger group caught my gaze. They had congregated just outside the tiny cafe I was stood beside, six or seven girls around my age, perhaps a little bit younger, all appeared to be clawing for the attention of some bloke they’d crowded around. I surveyed them a little in amusement- Oh, what most men would give, I thought with a soft snort.

I couldn’t see much of him, the man, just the top of his head really. A mass of dark curls. He appeared to be taking the sudden devotion in his stride though, talking back and forth animately, nodding along with enough enthusiasm that his hair sort of followed in a bounce of its own.

Another breeze hit then and as I shivered I wished that I’d remembered to grab my scarf on the way out this morning instead of just my headphones- which, were now almost completely dead. I was helplessly trying to save the last of their battery for the journey home, hoping they’d prove to be a welcomed distraction.

But when I glanced back up, I found that the group had dispersed somewhat. The girls were now wandering further away, all of them adorning huge smiles as their excited eyes kept trailing back over their shoulders. The guy though, had seemed to sort of vanish. Probably having slipped back into the oncoming traffic of people, I supposed. It was then that I silently scolded myself when I noticed I’d been rubbing the back of my thumb over my teeth again. It was an anxious tick of sorts, one that sometimes left my hands raw, and something my mum wholeheartedly hated.

I smiled slightly at the reminder of her, she’d have started swatting as soon as I’d started up.

Should probably give her a call later, now that I thought about it, maybe on the way home if I still felt like crap. That woman was godawful when it came to talking, could chat about absolutely anything at the best of times, but always knew how to best cheer me up.

“You alright?” Came a sudden voice, startling me from my tangent of thoughts.

I snapped my head over to where a man now stood about a foot away, leaning casually against the same wall, with a cigarette hanging from his lower lip. He seemed ready to light it from the way he was cradling a lighter just by his chin, but had paused once he’d taken note of my presence.

“Uh,” I stumbled, slightly taken aback. I’d not even realised he’d been stood there, nor was I prepared for an actual conversation. “Yeah, you?” I forced out on instinct, confused by the sudden exchange but not bewildered enough to not give that typical greeting its usual half-arsed reply.

The guy hummed as he lit his cigarette, taking a quick drag before he let it hang loosely between his fingertips. My brow furrowed, certain that this was the same bloke I’d just seen, the one who’d suddenly disappeared from his swarm of adoring fans.

“It’s just,” The man begun again, blowing remnants of smoke out the side of his mouth. “You seem a little jumpy, like you’re waiting for something to happen. Wanted to know what I was getting myself into, standing here beside you. Not plotting nothing, are you?”

I choked a little on my next laugh, a bit disbelieving. “And if I was?” I found myself asking before I could think better of it.

As the guy shrugged, his lip curled enough to make his nose twitch. The picture of indifference.

Then he turned to me with a shit-eating grin, “So go on then, who’re you stalking? An old flame, the one who got away… A maths teacher who gave you a crappy mark?”

I quirked a brow.

“Um,” Unable to stop myself from blowing out a quiet chuckle, “None of the above?” Phrasing it like a question.

“How boring.” The guy dragged out, letting his head fall against the brick work, his curls cushioning its landing. He looked at me then, and I could sort of make out where his eyes were from behind the dark shades he was wearing.

I hummed, feigning offence. “That hurts, coming from you- the guy wearing sunglasses on a day without sun.”

His mouth twitched as he took another drag. “It’s London, love. There’s never any sun.”

I shook my head at him and looked away in attempt to hide my smile.

It was quiet for a few moments after that, but he was still stood there so I figured that that had been the end of our short interaction. My anxiety had dulled somewhat but I couldn’t help the way I’d begun to play with the zip of my jacket, eyes scanning the crowds as my mind found a soft rhythm in the metal’s sound.

My attention differed when I heard him move again and glanced over to find him stumping out his fag beneath the heel of his boot. When he met my gaze he held it for a slow second before he said, “Wait here, yeah.”

He wandered off then, too quickly for me to question him or utter a reply to that strange demand, he’d just left me to watch him round the corner.

And so I frowned, staring into the space he’d just occupied, before a huffy laugh slipped out and I found myself shaking my head once again.

Living in London, you met the oddest sorts. Someone asking for something or other as they passed you by, another nutter off their head offering up their life story as you waited for the bus to come. But I’d never really had an exchange like that.

Wait here. I mulled the words over.

With nothing better to do, and not really sensing any immediate danger headed my way, I decided to take perch on the cobbled curb of the side street I’d been lingering on. If I was going to wait, then I’d sit and do so. I couldn’t much be arsed to stand about any longer. My legs were already stiff from standing for ages trying to pluck up enough courage to head into that stupid coffee shop, and the wind had decided then to pick up.

Besides, the guy hadn’t been half-bad to look at, I could see why the girls had grown quite attached.

So it was there that the stranger found me when he returned, lips pursed as he rounded the corner. When he noticed me sat there though his smile widened and he manoeuvred himself quite quickly onto the curb beside me, easily enough that he didn’t upset the cardboard tray he held in one hand and the bag he had in the other.

“Thought you’d wandered off for a second there.” He commented, dropping the bag between his folded legs to pluck a drink from the tray. He then handed the warm cup to me and I seemed to take it on impulse. “Good that you hadn’t though, would’ve gone to waste otherwise.” He added as he gestured with his head towards the steaming cup I now cradled confusedly. He was rummaging around for the bag again before I could even work up the words to question what was happening. He tossed it towards me. “That too.”

“Um…” I said, eyes flitting between the drink, the bag, and the man himself.

“A thanks wouldn’t go amiss.” I heard him say, and finally looked back up to find him wearing an amused but cocky smirk.

“What?”

He gestured at the cup again and I peered down, taking note of the logo which I then realised belonged to small cafe sat beside us.

“This is for me?”

He just stared blankly back at me.

“Why?” I finally questioned, coming to my senses.

“Why not?” He retorted smartly, already sipping at his own drink.

I blinked whilst I tucked a small strand of hair behind my ear, unsure.

“It’s not poisoned.”

With a unhelpful snort I said, “Sounds promising. What is it then?”

“Was gonna grab you a coffee- figure, everyone likes coffee.” He started with an animated shrug. “But you seemed a bit jittery already, so went with tea instead. Oh,” He stopped to pull a couple of tiny pots from his coat pocket and dumped them onto the road between us. “Milk.”

“And if I liked sugar?” I found myself teasing as I opened the plastic lid, pouring in a good amount of milk into the dark brew. I blew at the rim to watch the steam whirl into the air before I took a small sip, my eyes found his, still hidden behind those dark glasses he wore.

“Then I’d tell you to go fuck yourself.”

“Fair enough.” I chuckled, liking his bluntness, then held up the cup as I added, “Thank you, though- for this.”

He simply waved me off. As though it was no big deal.

I set the tea down on the pavement beside me for a moment to peer into the bag he’d tossed my way. I tried to bite back a pleased grin when I turned to him. “We’re sharing this, by the way.”

His forehead wrinkled from over his cup.

“Bossy, I like it.” Was what he came out with, before he dipped his chin slightly in discouragement. “But no, you’re all good. Have it.”

I shook my head at him. “Come on, we can split it.” I said, already pulling the sweet treat he’d purchased halfway out of the paper bag.

He quirked a brow. “How? It’s a muffin, just keep it.”

“It’s blueberry though.”

The guy just looked back at me, lost but somewhat curious. “What the fuck does it being blueberry have to do with it?”

“Everything. Blueberry muffins are the best sort.” I shrugged as though the answer had been obvious, pulling at the cake’s top to split it horizontally through the middle. I handed him his half then shook the crumbs off of my jacket sleeve. “I’m taking the top part though, sorry.” I added, already tearing into the dome shaped top.

He adverted his gaze between myself and the cased muffin’s bottom a few times. Almost like he didn’t know what to do with himself.

I hummed in appreciation at the sweet flavour that coated my tongue before peering back over at him, he seemed to be watching me but I couldn’t be sure.

“What?” I question, feeling a tad self-conscious under his gaze.

“Blueberry. You’re claiming that blueberry is the best of all the muffin flavours. That’s astounding to be frank. I’m actually baffled. I mean, blueberry… Really?”

I merely grinned.

“Really.”

He shook his head, holding his tongue between his front teeth to keep from smiling too.

He kicked a leg out then, sitting his drink on the gravel road to take a taste of the soft treat. He seemed to mull the flavour over a bit before he finally grunted, “It’s alright.”

“Alright? Just alright?” I retorted, almost offended on the muffin’s behalf. “This-“ I held up my segment, “is almost perfect.”

One word seemed to catch his attention though, he cocked a brow. “Almost?”

I hummed, not bothering with a reply as I broke off another chunk and tossed it into my mouth.

His tongue danced over his lower lip and left the topic be. I took the moment to grab my tea again, appreciating the warmth of it in my palms. That’s when I caught the name sharpied onto its side.

I snorted, “What’s with Frankenstein?”

His eyebrows lifted up over the rim of his glasses as he turned to face me, but he seemed to make sense of what I’d meant when he caught me cradling the cup. He laughed but didn’t comment any further.

I couldn’t help my smile by this point, “Come on. What’s your real name then?”

He smirked. “Now where’s the fun in that?”

“Um, so I can thank you properly?” I suggested, but immediately wished I hadn’t.

“Properly, hm?” He parroted back, that cocky smile of his was back in full beam. “I can think of a hundred different ways you could thank me properly without even needing to know my name.”

His grin only grew wider when he saw the mostly disgusted look plastered on my face. I scoffed playfully.

“I might’ve just been stood on a street corner, but I can promise you now that that’s not happening.”

A sharp bark erupted from him, but it didn’t seem to garner any attention from anyone else, as though we’d created our own little bubble. “I like it. But we’ll see.”

I rolled my eyes but decided to move on. “You’re really not going to give me your name then?”

He acted as though he was mulling it over. “What do I get in return?” He asked with a small jerk of his chin, then seeing my unimpressed stare, he added, “I’m just messing about, darling. How about- you guess it.”

“You’re not being serious.” At his nod, I all but groaned, “How am I supposed to guess your name? Do you know how long we could be sat here?”

He shrugged a shoulder and went in for another bite of the blueberry muffin. “Don’t know, but you’re the one who’s guessing so I’d get started.”

I thinned my lips. “At least give me a clue then.”

He eyed me for a moment, then wiped at his mouth before he ultimately dipped his head. “Alright. But this is your only one, yeah?”

I thought about it briefly then nodded unhappily, it was probably the best offer I was going to get out of him.

He grinned as though he’d won some sort of prize, but before I could snark back he was prattling away again. “Okay. It’s common, I’ll give you that. But that's all you’re getting.”

“Common.” I thought about it as I brought a knee up to my chest to rest my chin against. “So are we talking Bible sort of common, or just British?”

“Ah, ah, ah. That’s cheating. Only the one clue, remember.”

I exhaled huffily before chewing on the inside of my cheek.

“Jack.” I guessed.

He shook his head.

“John?”

He snorted, “No.”

“James? Jacob!”

“Fuck me, what’s with all the J’s?”

“So it doesn’t start with a J.” I smiled triumphantly but my victory was rapidly swept away when he hit back with, “Never said that.”

Even with his denial, I switched it up a bit and took the time to carefully observe him. He definitely seemed like someone who owned his name. Meaning, that he wasn’t a Tom who looked a lot more like a Harry.

Immediately I removed those two names from the mental list I was rapidly curating, deciding that they didn’t much suit him.

I was almost unaware of myself as I looked at him, taking in the small details he offered to the world. The hollow of his cheeks, the scruff on his chin, the wrinkles dotted around his mouth and hairline. I wished for a moment to see the colour of his eyes then, believing that they might share a few more of his secrets.

“Oli?” I tried, then instantly decided against it, “How about George?”

He shook his head again at the first, and laughed a little harder at the second. I chewed at my lip.

“This is difficult.”

He hummed, obviously finding amusement in my struggle as he sipped at his drink again.

I tapped away at my knee before kicking my leg out in mild frustration, not thinking too hard about the way my boot had lightly nicked his extended leg.

“Um,” I drawled out in dwindling thought. “William, but you keep it short… So, Will?”

“Nope.”

“Christopher?”

“Look, you’re close with the length.” He mentioned.

I grinned at him in complete surprise and he grunted unhappily when the realisation hit him that he’d just offered me up another clue.

“Nicholas? I think you could be a Nick-” I paused, tilting my head one way, then another. “No wait, actually no.” I grimaced at the thought, then sighed. “I have zero clue here.”

“Ah, come on, love. You can’t give up just as you’re getting close.” He encouraged, I pulled a face at him, hating the fact that he was finding this whole charade entertaining.

“Just tell me.” I pleaded.

“Nah.”

“Come on. Why not?”

He shook his head, smiling all the while. “‘Cause.”

I narrowed my eyes.

Taking another aggressive bite out of my muffin, I let my gaze roam over his attire, taking in the dark oversized pilots jacket he had layered over a slightly longer linen shirt, which was a few shades lighter than that of his trousers. The trousers were crumpled from the way he’d chosen to sit but otherwise seemed to fit him well, a beige sort of colour that led straight into a pair of heavy black docs.

A few more names lingered on the tip of my tongue but ultimately I decided on, “Matthew.”

His face perked up upon hearing it and I was celebrating before he could even confirm it for me.

“Fucking dragged that out.” He said with false fatigue, to which I swatted his arm for, but he leant away, chuckling all the while.

When I relented he made a show out of repositioning himself- somewhat closer now than he had originally been, which I vaguely noticed but chose not to comment on. He rubbed at the tip of his nose briefly then, before he finally- finally- tugged off those godawful glasses he wore, making a home for them in his nest of curls.

I quietened down.

Brown. His eyes were brown. And they were bright and earnest and wrinkled by his smile.

I couldn’t not grin right back at him.

“Matthew.” I practically declared, happy to have won.

He shook his head in laughter, “Now, before you go getting ahead of yourself, it’s actually Matty.”

Hm, yeah, that sounded more like him.

“Matty.” I couldn’t help but repeat, somewhat quieter than before.

We shared a look then that seemed to last a century and yet a second. I blinked.

“Am I gonna have to guess yours now? Payback and all that.” Matty queried, and had somehow procured a pack of cigarettes in his hands. He lit one.

“Oo, should I?” I ask, half tempted, and finished off the dregs of my muffin, wiping away what little remained. “Feel like we’d be here all day then.”

Matty offered up the lit cigarette. He’d already taken a slow drag, and I wasn’t much of a smoker, but it had honestly been a day, so I accepted, watching him as I inhaled.

“Is it something cool?” He quizzed, palms splayed out now across the pavement behind us as he relaxed further. I frowned at him, not catching what he meant. “Your name.” He chuckled.

“Oh, I dunno really. Bit uncool to say your name’s cool though, ain’t it?”

“Depends on whether your name’s actually cool or not.” Matty commented, and I couldn’t not laugh as he continued on, “If you’ve got a generic fucking name like- I don’t know- Andy, and think it’s proper cool then that’s just a bit sad. I mean, Andy. Really? How bland can you be? But you come out with something like Megatron, then…” He shrugged, “You’re sort of set for life. Kids will think your sick, and you’d be in there the second you mention it when you’re out trying to pull.”

“I fucking doubt that.”

“Ah, come on! You mean to tell me you wouldn’t shag a bloke called Ezekiel or some crap like that?” Matty demanded, seemingly in disbelief.

“Ezekiel- where the fuck have you just pulled that name from?” I couldn’t not ask.

“Hebrew, ain't it?” Matty brushed over, before continuing on with his argument. I just sat there and listened, chiming in here and there to wind him up further, but was mostly entertained by his take on the topic.

“Fuck!” He all but shouted with a strangled sort of laugh— in the time he’d been ranting, he’d already lit two more cigarettes and downed the last of his coffee. “Why’d you let me ramble on? I was meant to be getting your name!”

I smiled and moved to sit in a more comfortable position, crossing my legs. “You can talk for England, you. Not my fault you don’t know when to shut up.”

Matty didn’t seem to mind the jeering, he snorted as he sidled closer on the curb. “So go on, your name.” He prompted, brown eyes teasing and bright under the afternoon sun.

I rolled my own before letting them stray to the left, up and over to where people still seemed to be bustling past the side street, unaware of us, or just uncaring.

“Y/n.” I relented, turning my head back towards Matty.

He stared long and hard at me for a second, appearing to rest my name between the cusp of his teeth, right there on the tip of his tongue. And then he spoke, “Y/n. Suits you.”

I quirked a brow, “Oh, yeah?”

Matty hummed with a smile. “Yeah. Reckon I could’ve guessed it easily.”

I couldn’t help the god awful snort I released as I shook my head in exasperation, hair brushing against the shoulders of my jacket as it fell forward. “You’re a twat.”

But he didn’t seem to mind it.

#the 1975 #Matty #healy #matty healy #x reader #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #y/n #fluff #imagine #Matty Healy imagine #1975 band #george daniel #the 1975 imagines #fic #drabble

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theflyindutchwoman · 10 months

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Is that an apology? Yes. All right. No! Look, because you never would've let me work my magic if I had told you, and then I would have ended up transferring to another station to save you from yourself, and…this worked out so much better. And if you can't see that, I'm sorry not sorry. Okay. I accept your non-apology.

| ANATOMY OF A SCENE - CHENFORD EDITION 5.16 - Exposed

I'm not going to lie… this is one of those scenes that I wish I could fully love… It has so much potential, but, unfortunately, it feels like something is missing. Like, say, a deeper conversation between Tim and Lucy… one where he gets to explain why he is so upset with her in the first place. Is it because she went behind his back to orchestrate the five-player trade, as suggested here? Is it because he worries about how this makes him look, as he implied earlier in the shop? Those are not mutually exclusive but since he never get to properly voice his thoughts on the matter, we never really find out which is it (or if it's both for that matter). Instead, it is skimmed over, as if it was an argument just for the sake of it.

Now, there's nothing wrong with that in itself… Not everything needs to be an arc. But as this 'fight' is connected to two storylines, it needed more depth. And this is where I, personally, feel a bit let down by this. I absolutely loved how Lucy didn't hesitate to put her career on the line to help Tim find a more suitable job, just like he did when he decided to take a desk job for her… They are prioritising the other, which is something neither of them ever had before… And that is extremely special for them, to have this unconditional support and love. In Tim's case, he was asked twice to sacrifice his career. And this time, he has someone who does everything in her power to make sure he can have it all, a job that he loves and a relationship. But none of this is truly acknowledged. We saw Lucy being grateful and appreciative when he transfered for her but not Tim… And I have a hard time believing that he wouldn't be even a little, once the sting fades. That is not to say he doesn't have any reason to be upset… And that's my second issue with this : this could have been used as a setup for the coming angst, the one that is brewing with Sava and Jake, Isabel's return, Lucy's undercover mission… All these episodes have one main theme : how secrecy and lies can destroy a relationship. How this is what actually started to break Tim's marriage with Isabel, long before her addiction drove the final nail in the coffin… So this could have been the perfect opportunity to have Tim confide in Lucy why her going behind his back, no matter how good her intentions were, is triggering some bad memories. Why their promise not to lie to each other is that important. This could have tied this whole arc altogether in a more organic way.

That said, I love how unapologetic Lucy is. She gets where he's coming from - to an extent. But she still stands her ground, simply explaining why she did it. After all, this all started because of the decision he unilaterally took, when he went to Grey and accepted a desk job, without consulting her first. So her worries that he would end up resenting her, their relationship or even just his situation are natural. Honesty works both ways. And that's the thing with them : while they are usually really good at communicating, they can also be selfless and impulsive when it comes to the other, ready to sacrifice themselves so the other can be happy. That, and they're both used to being independent. They just need to find a balance in their personal relationship. And as upset as Tim appears to be, it's quite clear that he is ready to move on right after her first apology. They might be good at arguing but he doesn't like being mad at her, that much is clear. He can't even stay that way too long, even after she turns the tables on him #sorrynotsorry. His smile… He's just so amused and disarmed. He can't even hide it anymore. So much for not being a softy...

(To be continued...)

#the rookie #chenford #chenfordedit #lucy chen #tim bradford #5.16 #Anatomy of a scene - Chenford Edition

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ghostssweetgirl · 2 years

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crazy over you ~ simon ghost riley x reader slow burn/enemies to lovers

description: y/n gets transferred to task force 141 and quickly becomes friends with soap and gaz, but her and ghost "hate" each other for the first part. warnings: mentions of violence and death (duh), alcohol intake, smoking (at some point), nsfw (at some point), subtle flirting with soap. i'm new to writing? so don't expect this to be the greatest. this is not in line with the game campaigns or missions. the only characters i included are y/n, soap, gaz, price, & ghost. i have no knowledge of the military this is just creativity disclaimer: i do not own modern warfare or any of its characters.

chapters: next [switch] last

A/N - Very short chapter but it's because the last one was long. Update: Work has got me caught up so... Between editing what I was unhappy with in this story and work being extra, I've just started catching up with writing the rest of the story. Release times will be shorter from here on out. Just warnin' ya! I do have notes and stuff so it should make writing the next few chapters easier :)

As you and Simon exit the hotel, you get into the passenger side of the vehicle.

"I had fun, Simon," you smiled at him. "Thank you for coming out with me..."

"Same here, doll." Weird, he was short with you again. Figuring it was just work, you let it go and enjoy the ride back, feeling happy with the outing.

Before the ride got too quiet, you made sure to compliment him. "You're... a good kisser, by the way. Never been kissed like that."

He raised his eyebrow, quickly peeking at you. "Hm."

"Is... everything okay?" you sheepishly asked.

"Affirmative, just work. One thing, luv. Ghost on the field and in front of others."

"Okay, understood, sir."

Arriving back at base, you walk into the safe house before Ghost does, and immediately go to find food. Soap and Gaz are in the kitchen and ooh-ing and aww-ing at the two of you.

"Fuck off, pests," Ghost spat as he made his way to his room. You look over your shoulder at him, noticing his sweet demeanor had, in fact, switched. No longer Simon.

Sitting down at the table after grabbing some leftover scrambled eggs, you, Soap, and Gaz watch Ghost leave without a word. And as soon as he walks out the door...

Soap looks over at you, excited. "How was it?"

"Did you see his face? Is he ugly?"

"How was the movie?"

"... How big is it?"

You choked on your food at the last question, staring off into space, now trying to catch your breath at the randomness of Soap's ask. You laugh before you respond, chewing the last bit of your food. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"N-not like that, lass..." Soap put his head down, realizing how he sounded.

"No, it was fine. We watched Robin Hood... The Disney version... I didn't see his... full face."

"Did ya kiss?" he smirked.

Your smile instantly gave it away as you blushed at the thought, remembering being on Si-Ghost's lap like you were.

"Ahhh! Was it good? Tell me," Soap took a sip of his orange juice.

You nodded, "Damn good."

Gaz shook his head in playful disapproval. "Done with your questions, Soap?"

"Aye... For now..." he squinted at you. "I'll leave 'er alone..."

You hummed, "We had pizza. And nearly 2 bottles of whiskey."

"Lucky bastards..." they spoke in unison, looking at each other as the words came out of their mouths.

"We got to sleep in a real bed," you smirked, playfully rubbing it in their faces.

Soap paused, "YOU GUYS SLEPT TOGETHER?! LIKE - IN THE SAME BED?!"

You furrowed your brows, "Yeah? I mean - he didn't sleep, I slept... on him. Jesus, I'm probably not supposed to be saying any of this... It was fun, okay, Soap? We had our own little time and got to know each other more. I'm just glad he doesn't hate me... anymore."

"Yeah, yeah..." he tutted, jealous - you weren't sure of what, though.

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auroramoon-draws16 · 2 months

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I can’t stop thinking about this, but it’s not Assassin’s Creed, sorry folks.

Hogwarts Legacy x Harry Potter

(No real spoilers, mostly vague references, iykyk)

I just need BAMF! Player Character/MC to pop up in the Harry Potter era. I’ve thought about several ways how:

1. Ghost. MC is the damn best duelist in history, but they can’t win ‘em all. Keep fighting the hardest fights, or get caught in a bad ending, and it’s curtains. So, what if MC didn’t feel like they did enough, hadn’t been able to help their friends enough, so they stayed, and in that decision, the wizarding world’s history changed. You call that defense against the dark arts??? That’s bullshit is what that is! Hey kid, here’s how you properly duel a bitch. Yes, it’s entirely legal to throw furniture and other objects at your opponent. Yes, you can throw your opponent. Prophecy? You guys traumatized a child! Hey, you, Harry was it? I gotchu, kid.

2. A painting. It’s pretty clear that the portraits all over the school are alive and retain some personality and characteristics of the subjects. Mostly when the subject actually adds more to their portrait to have a better effect. The MC was also one of the few who could use ancient magic, so that could be a reason they decided to have their portrait done, to ensure the next generation would have some sort of guidance they didn’t get. Not only that, but also help future duelists. So maybe the portrait can only be accessed by asking the Room of Requirement, mostly because ancient magic secrets are best kept between users. Imagine that portrait being found by Harry, he asks the room for help teaching Dumbledor’s Army spells and suddenly a portrait of a person no one has heard of, but apparently is the best duelist in the history of the wizarding world perks up and goes “alright, bet.” (This can also work for the ghost version) Well, the portrait could also just be out in public, but the MC is just not there, cue mystery to be solved!

3. Time travel. Ancient magic is wonky, it can happen! Cue sudden transfer student shenanigans. Also, chosen one? That is a child, MC has seen enough shit to know that’s fucked up and Harry needs better supports in his life, dammit. Older sibling MC goes brrrrr.

4. Apparition. Ancient magic wonky shit, part 2! Prophecies are bullshit. That is a child, and that bitchy 80 year old snake face needs to eat concrete. Harry stumbles upon an ancient magic item before he gets to Hogwarts. A necklace or a bracelet or some shit. Now baby Harry has a friend! MC takes one look at this child and goes “anybody gonna love and care for this one? No? Aight, mine now.” They can’t do much, but they are visible and heard only to Harry, so that means they can keep him company and tutor him wherever possible. How did they end up like this??? Uh…. Don’t worry about it.

5. Pensives. Somebody has to learn from history, and books are boring dammit. And easily edited. MC’s got your back kiddos.

6. How long do wizards live? Oh shit, yeah, MC is still alive. Heyyyy bitches, I’m your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor! Who here knows how to throw a bitch at a wall? No? Well we got a lot of catching up to do. I may be old, but I’m still the best damn duelist around.

Idk, I wanted to have some fun with this and I haven’t seen anyone do this with an actual character. You can add backstories and shit. I hate reader inserts, okay? Don’t judge me :/ (also I’m tired of the romance, I love me a good ship, but my aromantic ass wants to see cute platonic shit, okay?)

Here’s my MC for Hogwarts Legacy, even tho I don’t have the game, lmao:

Morgan Diane Rook (They/Them)

Black wavy hair that goes just past their ears, gray eyes, tan skin, freckles, round face, scar on their cheek, and in Hufflepuff (my house, also for the rep)

Sass master, protective friend, and just a little bit feral, will laugh in the face of enemies. Unforgivable curses? I don’t need to be forgiven, I just need you to cease existence. You were very rude to my friend.

Obligatory Slytherins need a designated Hufflepuff best friend.

Blame the attitude on the Uncle who took them in after their parents died in an accident. Uncle Jack is from the states and ran in a gang before he went straight for his kid, he’s trying his best dammit. It’s also why they’re a transfer student, they spent a few years with Uncle Jack in the states before moving back into Mom and Dad’s place. He hired a wizard tutor, no worries. He don’t get all this magic shit, but he loves his kid, and that’s enough reason for him. They’re a damn good duelist for a reason.

Morgan also knows how to use a gun, just because :)

Idk, I think they’re neat

#hogwarts legacy #harry potter #hogwarts legacy mc #someone write a fic #im tired of romance #plz #gimme time travel #gimme different eras interacting #i need to be fed #oc #original character #morgan is named after arthur morgan #hence the outlaw uncle

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keep-the-wolves-close · 1 year

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Steady Heart

Chapter 2: Deep Stays Down

Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton × OFC Stella Daniels

Rating: M? (Still figuring out the rating system) (might eventually be M anyhow)

Warnings: Grief, panic, language because I mean let's be honest we've all seen the show lol

Word count: 2,710

Gif credit goes to @bodybebangin (I totally can’t remember if there’s a way to transfer the gif to my post with your profile link on mobile.) Edit I figured it out and I’ll remember for the next time!

Authors Note: Thank you everyone for the interest in my first chapter! Here we are with chapter two! I hope you all like this one too! I had to split chapter 2 into two so technically there’s an extra chapter. So I think I’ll post this early 😂.

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot for being a sounding board for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, a cheerleader, and allowing me to screech at her about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn’t have gotten this far. 💛

Stella tossed the covers of the bunk back. She reached for her glasses and her phone. It was around 8:30 in the morning. She wasn’t too late, but later than she had planned. Late by ranch standards, for sure. Thankfully no one was in the bunkhouse at the time so she had free reign of the bathroom.

She came out fully dressed and ready for the day. She saw all the men out the kitchen window. ‘All of them, except one.’ She blinked rapidly and air rushed up from her lungs. It was like that thought had just sucker punched her right in the gut. The nausea came back, her fingertips and cheeks went numb. No one came for her. More so, Lee wasn’t barging in, telling her to “Get your ass up and let’s get a move on! You’re holdin’ me up, lil’ bit!” He let her get away with much more than he probably should have.

Leaning forward against the sink, she looked down and tried to catch her breath, open mouthed and salivating. She tried to convince herself to not vomit. ‘In through your nose, out through your mouth girl.’ A groan escaped her. Her eyes welled up and she sank to the floor against the sink cabinets.

Stella slammed her fist on the floor. “Fuck!” She screamed in anguish. Partly regretting hitting the floor so hard, but most of it aimed at the loss of a coworker. A friend. The thought of never seeing him again, never hearing him giving her a hard time about his brother, about how she did something with a particular horse? It hit her like a freight train. One thought after the other. There was an empty crater made by the absence of Lee. One which she didn’t even realize would be there.

She hiccupped and hyperventilated while the tears streamed down her round cheeks. Stella tried to remind herself not to pass out. She could hear Lee's voice, right after she had gotten bucked really hard for the first time. “Big breaths kid. Big breaths.” Her face contorted into sorrow. She gulped air for a minute. Slowly, but surely, her breathing came back to a better rhythm.

Standing carefully, she ran the cold water in the sink. Stella splashed her face and held the cold water around her eyes. She didn’t need to be super swollen and red going out there. Ryan would immediately sniff it out.

Fixing her hair into a bun, she closed the bunkhouse door behind her. Before she had her meltdown, she had seen from the window that John and Rip had brought out Kayce’s horse. She definitely wanted to go and watch; that horse was about to give everyone a run for their money. He listened great for Kayce though. There was something kindred between the two that she noticed yesterday. She didn’t think John would have the patience for him for long.

“Hey Rip, Mr. Dutton.” She smiled at them.

“Hey kid.”

She rolled her eyes at the foreman while laughing. “You do realize I’m 26 now and not 14?”

“Don’t do that to me, Stella-belle.” Rip pleaded playfully.

Stella jested. “What? Make you feel old?”

John grinned at Stella. “If it makes him feel old, then I feel ancient, little girl.”

“Well you do look pretty rusty with that horse, sir.” She joked because of the show the stallion put on while she walked up.

“Oh you think you can do better?” John challenged her.

“I mean, your oldest and youngest did teach me almost everything I know.”

“And who do you think they learned it from?”

“Lloyd.” Stella giggled and hopped up and over the fence. She wiped her hands on her pants. “Let me take a crack at him.”

She handed her glasses to John and said, “Don’t get your dusty fingerprints all up on my lenses, sir.” He chuckled and stepped back to the fence where Rip stood.

“You should invest in contacts, dear.” John joked. He didn’t leave the pen, just in case she needed someone to grab her out. He knew his son’s best friend could be a little reckless when it came to the horses. Lee had seen fit to mention that to him.

“My glasses treat me just fine, thank you.” She pivoted back to the mustang.

“Whoa Tank.” She said softly and outstretched her hand to him. He looked to her, but then at John behind her. He let out a short snort and stomped his front foot.

“Mr. Dutton, no offense, but get out of the pen please.” She could hear him as he shuffled his way out.

He leaned over to Rip and said quietly, “Excuse me, just getting kicked out of my own arena.” They shared a chuckle at her determination.

“I can hear y’all by the way.” She smirked over her shoulder at them. “I work with the rest of these horses nearly every day, so let me try to do my thing.”

Stella stepped forward carefully. “Is that better, bud?” He nickered gently at her, partially satisfied. She chuckled at him. “Just like Kayce,” she said softly.

She clucked twice. “Come here boy.” The stallion took his time as he decided whether or not she was going to betray his trust. Just like she would with Kayce, she let him come to her. Which, he finally broke and decided she was interesting enough.

In her outstretched hand, he placed his muzzle. She began to pet him on his velvety soft nose and forehead. Once she felt that he was comfortable and he wasn’t giving a negative reaction, she started to mess around with his saddle; giving him gentle shoulder pats every so often. She just wanted to be extra sure that if the stud tried to toss her, she would have as much control as possible.

She got close to his ear and said gently, “okay, Tank. You ready to show these boys what we’re made of?” The horse chuffed just a tiny bit, just loud enough that she could hear him. She patted his chest and placed her foot in the stirrup. Stella gauged his reaction and he made it seem like she could proceed. She scrunched her eyebrows in suspicion and gripped the horn, stepping up into the saddle. She didn’t want to pull on his back harder than she needed and piss him off even more.

She sat deep in her seat and took a deep breath. She kept the reins loose, they were split reins anyhow, and her legs soft on his sides. Her heels low to keep her center of gravity. Stella could feel the stallion’s mind brewing. She brought his head up because she didn’t want him to go between his knees.

“Well I’ll be damned,” John muttered.

“Why do you think Lee and I gave her the position to work beside him with the horses, sir?”

“It’s okay, boy. You’re doing gre— shit!” Stella grabbed the horn tight and pulled her legs close because Tank took off in a flying leap.

He bounced them both around for the longest 10 seconds of Stella’s life. He tried to flip them, but she loosened her legs and pulled his head sharp into the inside lead causing him to lose momentum. She could hear Lee screaming at her in her head to get him on the inside and get his head back from him. The stud took a step to the side to gain balance. Tank made his displeasure known as he hollered and tried to toss her more times than she could count.

Stella flexed his neck and made him move forward. She, at the very least, wanted to get him to listen to her. There was a lot of work she was going to have to put in with this one. ‘Of course Lee left me the difficult one.’ She kept pushing him forward in long strides around the arena and finally he ground to a halt with an agitated squeal. They were both breathing heavily, but she refused to let him catch her off guard again. She flexed the inside rein again.

“Come on Tank, work with me here.” He tried to step on the outside lead to get away from her direction, but she brought him back in. He allowed her to trot him over to the two man audience they had. At least she had thought it was just Rip and Mr. Dutton. Everyone else from the bunkhouse had joined in to watch the free rodeo.

Lloyd looked proud. “We could make you a rodeo queen yet, little bit.”

Stella let out a full belly laugh. “Oh my god, Lloyd. Hell no. I like where my spine is. I’ll be just fine without the buckle.”

She stopped in front of John and he passed her glasses over to her. “He’s got a lot of work ahead of him, but I really don’t think anyone but Kayce is gonna be able to do anything with him. Or at least have him agreeable. This is absolutely your son’s horse, sir.” She got down and gave Tank a few good pats on his shoulder.

John and Stella shared a look of understanding and she put her glasses back on. They both knew exactly what she meant about Tank being Kayce’s. More so, Kayce being Tank’s. She breathed a chuckle through her nose and handed the reins over to Rip.

“I’ll keep trying with him tomorrow. I’ll talk to Kayce about him if you want me to?” She offered.

She watched Rip walk off and holler out, “Jimmy! Saddle up! We’ll make you a cowboy, yet.” Bless that man for what they were about to do to him.

“Yeah Stella. You do that for me.” John directed her.

She sent a text to Kayce. Hey, you got a minute to talk about that horse of yours? When she brought her eyes back up from her phone, she almost choked at the sight before her. Jimmy was now duck taped to Tank and being given explicit directions by Rip. Stella wandered over to her brother and Colby. She heard them placing bets on the horse or Jimmy.

“That horse has a name, ya know.”

“And what would that be, little bit?” Colby asked sarcastically.

She bit back. “His name is Tank if you would have paid attention at all.” She came to occupy the space between the bro-buds and Mr. Dutton and Rip.

“Do I detect some defensiveness?” Ryan goaded her.

Stella leaned forward on the fence and placed her foot up on a rung. “I never said I wasn’t gonna put money on the horse. I just want you to use his name, is all. Respect him and he’ll respect you. Maybe.” She cracked a smile. “I put $20 on Tank.” John let out a gruff chuckle from her right hand side. “I expect both of you to pay up too.” She joked to her bosses.

Ryan hissed through his teeth at her as Rip and John guffawed at her challenge. “Stella Lee!”

“What?” She bounced her shoulders. “Alls fair. Isn’t that right, gentlemen?” She focused on Jimmy and the horse, bouncing around just like she and John had been not long before. She felt for the poor kid because they were so rough on him, but he needed to harden up some.

Silence overtook her. This is where she would have been standing while watching Lee in the pen. Ryan glanced over at his sister when he realized she had gone silent.

He leaned toward her. “You okay?”

“I will be.” She murmured back. She didn’t have the energy to get into it.

Ryan questioned quietly. “Lee?” She confirmed silently. He sighed and placed an arm around her. “We’ll get through this, Stellee. I promise.”

Her phone buzzed in the back pocket of her jeans. Pulling it out, she glanced at the message preview. If you mean my father’s horse, I guess I got some time.

She replied. You want me to call you?

“Hey, I’ll be right back. I might gotta make a phone call.” Stella announced to the men as she removed herself from under her brother's arm. She figured the barn would be the closest and quietest place. Jamie was just walking up as she made her exit, and she acknowledged him in a quick greeting.

In through the side door she went. She figured she could say hi to her baby at the same time. Abigail made a happy noise at her arrival. Stella caressed her muzzle fondly. “Come on girl, back up.” She clucked twice and gently pushed her muzzle and the bay roan moved backward. Opening the stall door, she moved inside to the cleanest part and made herself comfortable on the floor to wait for Kayce’s approval to call.

She heard movement from the front of the barn. Her eyebrows pulled together. It was past morning turnout, and it wasn’t feed time, so no one should really be in here. She went to move back out into the hallway when she faintly heard John talking to Jamie.

“Did they identify Kayce?” John asked. Stella tilted her head quizzically and stopped moving. What did they mean, “identify Kayce”?

Jamie answered. “Not yet.”

“Who are the agents we’re talking about?” John asked.

“It’s, uh, Tom Reynolds and Aaron McReary.” Jamie offered up.

John pursed his lips in contemplation. “Reynolds I can deal with. I don’t know this McReary.”

“Yeah, he lives in the south end of the valley. Word is he likes his religion.”

“As in “won’t tell a lie” likes it?”

“Yeah, that would be my guess.” Jamie exhaled heavily.

“Find out where he goes to church. Anything else?” John thought twice. “Anything else? You said there were a few.”

Jamie sighed. “The medical examiners report. You’re not gonna like it.”

“Who else has seen the report?” As John questioned his second oldest son, Stella leaned forward to try and peek out the bars of the stall.

“The only ones who have seen it, want it to change.”

“Then it’ll change.” John started walking in her direction. Stella withdrew from the bars and bent down in the front corner to avoid being seen.

“It means they’re doctors. Which means they took an oath and it wasn’t to you. No matter what we do the photographs won’t change. The body won’t change. It’ll tell the same story to anybody who looks.” Jamie started to raise his voice.

“The body is buried, Jamie. Relax.”

“Yeah, but when they see the report…”

Abigail chose the most inopportune time to snort loudly. Stella squeezed her eyes shut, fixed her glasses, and put her hand on the underside of Abigail’s stomach. She tried to convince her to be quiet.

“When they see the report what?”

“When they see –,” John spoke over Jamie.

“–You think I’m just gonna let them dig up my son?”

“When they see the report they’re not gonna ask, they’re just gonna do it, dad.”

“Don’t say it –,”

“–I think–,”

“–Don’t say it –,”

“–I think we should beat them to it.”

“Don't even think it!”

Stella could hear things getting heated. She wanted to know, but also didn’t. She looked at the stall window that faced the one back paddock for the horses. Silently she thanked God for her girl having one of the few rooms with a VIP view. She gave Abigail a pat and tried to quietly climb out the window. She accidentally leaned back against the open section and it bounced against the barn. She grimaced as her feet dropped to the ground semi-gracefully. She thought she was in the clear as she took off. Unbeknownst to Stella, John had heard the noise from Abigail’s stall on his way out.

She was gonna have to go around the barn the long way to avoid running into John. She made an immediate left to wrap back around and texted Kayce. Actually, can I just meet you at your house?

There was only a few minutes in between messages. Yeah, that’s fine with us. Stella thanked God above and darted to her car. She didn’t catch John as he peeked around the corner and watched her race off.

Comments, thoughts, commentary, and asks are welcome! Just please be gentle lol. 🤓

#kayce dutton #luke grimes #ian bohen #kayce dutton fan fiction #ian bohen : ryan #yellowstone fanfic #yellowstone fanfiction #SH chapter two #yellowstonetv

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dimplesandfierceeyes · 1 year

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bad buddy fandom getting-to-know-you meme!

Another tag game I finally managed to get to! Thank you to @tiistirtipii, @dudeyuri, @feralmuskyscentedhoepran, @softpran, @dancing-out-in-space, and of course, @fiercynn for tagging me in this one!

name and whatever you want to share about yourself

Hello, I’m Kayla! I’m, as probably noticeable by my spelling, not American haha. Yeah I guess that’s it. I’ve never been good at talking about myself.

when did you watch bad buddy/join the fandom?

I watched it from the start, but somewhere around episode 3 I started actively looking into the fandom and by the end of ep4 I was already in a discord group and writing my first fanfiction. The rest, as they say, is history XD

favourite ship(s)

I am a PatPran, InkPa enthusiast although I did also like the LouisSafe idea which is why i wrote a whole fic about them haha

favourite character(s)

Beyond Pat and Pran, Pa, Korn and Ink will always be in my heart

favourite episode(s)

As much as I love episode 5, episode 3 is probably the episode I’ve watched the most haha I just love watching Pran coming out of his shell (even if he does get crushed in the very next episode T-T)

favourite scene(s)

The Rooftop comes in at number 1 every time, but also the fight in front of the apartment block just before it, the bus stop scene and guitar scene in ep3, the balcony scene in ep8, the bedroom scene in ep9, so many scenes in ep11, and everything after Pran turns up at the apartment in ep12. Serotonin factories every one.

one thing you would change about the show if you could

I’d have liked Pat’s anger in episode 7 to have been dealt with a bit more definitely but they pulled it back by giving it proper consideration in episode 11. Honestly I would have also loved more flashbacks to their pre-transfer era as well as a little more on Icy Pat, but I understand why we didn’t get them.

what are your some of your favourite fanworks made by other people?

This is a difficult one for me! So I actually did a list of my favourite bad buddy edits here and also fanfics here and here plus I’m pretty sure I did another, but can I find them? No. So I’m gonna add to this by saying also anything by @miscellar (aworkingprinter on AO3).

(if you create fanworks) what are your favourite fanworks that you’ve made?

Some of my own favourites? Well, that’s trickier haha! Probably A Fine Line Between Hormones and Home, The Space Pirate and the Officer of the Law and, just because it was my first fanfic in the fandom, He’s No Romeo.

a song that makes you think of bbs (the ones in the show don’t count lol)

Pancakes for Dinner by Lizzy McAlpine always makes me think of pining Pran, Heather by Conan Gray also gives huge Pran in episode 4/5 vibes. Alas I can’t think of one that screams Pat though I know I have thought that about songs before. No doubt I’ll be listening to a playlist tomorrow and be like “oh yeah, this one!”

idk anything else you want us to know?

So out of the 494,256 words I’ve written on AO3 over an 11 year period, 426,682 of them were written in the last 3 years and all for the Bad Buddy fandom. If that doesn’t encapsulate both my obsession and love of this show, I don’t know what does haha

Now who to tag?! I can't tag everyone so going with people I'm not sure if I've seen do this yet, though no pressure for anyone! @lurkingteapot @galauvant @snimeat @loveongsa

#tag game #this was fun thank you!

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nataliescatorccio · 2 years

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hello! if it's not too much of a bother, could you explain how you did the connecting threads on your pinned wenclair posts—more specifically, how you link them seamlessly between gifs? all of your edits are so beautiful!!

hi anon! first of all, thank you for your kind words ❤️ secondly, of course! it's pretty straightforward and i hope i can explain it in a way that you'll understand and will be helpful. i'm going to put my explanation under the cut just so i can use screenshots to visualise:

so we need to firstly start with whatever you want to be your 'connecting' piece. for me in this instance, it was a thread. what you want to do is start with it at 'full size' (so before it becomes cut off by hanging off the edge of your canvas) and reposition it so that it's cut off by the gif, rather than directly drawing a line that ends at the end of your gif. this is really important for creating a seamless transition later. so i'm starting with this:

then dragging and dropping it onto my gif, then positioned it as i want so that it's 'hanging of the end of the canvas' like so:

as you can see, i've only used the very top of the thread, there's still over half of it out of the canvas cut.

so what i'm gonna do now is place two little squares in the very bottom left and right corners of my thread layer. these are just little markers that will help me when i come to the next step! it now looks like this:

now i'm going to go to my next gif that i want to link this one to, and i'm going to drag and drop my thread layer onto this gif. now it's very important here that we drag and drop the layer here to ensure you're transferring the full thread across, and not cropping it at the same point as the canvas in the first gif does (this can happen when you copy and paste). so now we have this:

as you can see i've got the full original thread to work with! so what i'm going to do is use those squares that i put on before as a guidance, and i'm going to position so that they sit perfectly at the very top of my gif. you need to make sure here there is no gapping on the left or right hand side, because this is giving you the right width for your thread to align. so it looks now like this:

now the very last step is to slowly move the thread layer up (i usually just use my up arrow here to nudge it along 1px at a time) so that those boxes disappear perfectly out of frame. these are your aligners, so we want them to be perfectly sitting just above where your canvas starts to precisely place your thread to pick up where your first gif left off. take care with this bit because if you move it even a couple of pixels up too much, this can cause a misalignment! it should now be placed to align with the first, so i cleaned up the bottom of the thread so it ends where i want it to, as if it is linking the two shots together:

and now comes the real test! does the thread really connect the two shots together?

ta-da! looks pretty good to me! with this you should be able to line up any type of 'connector' you want between gifs, whether it's a thread, text, symbols, anything you desire! as always if you have any questions or things don't make sense please do let me know, i'm always happy to try my best to explain further :)

#Anonymous #ps help #tutorial #gif tutorial #also sorry this took me a couple of days to respond!!!#i've been sick recently and couldn't work out how to get my brain to string the explainations together lol

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acewithapaintbrush · 2 years

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Hey @lunamadrigal I hope this tickles your Ash and Misty cravings

******************

"Tadaaaa!"

Misty just stares. It's early. The sun has barely risen above the hills. One of her hands is still trying to untangle a knot in her hair while the other holds an empty coffee cup that she had been about to fill to the brim when the doorbell interrupted her.

She is tired. She is grumpy.

She is so not ready for whatever this is.

Her visitor still holds his pose, his arms outstretched, a big grin on his face. The grin threatens to fall, but only for a microsecond. He keeps it right where it is by sheer force of will. After another second of uncomfortable silence he repeats his grand gesture, arms going to his chest and then spreading out again, with even more gusto than the first time.

"Tadaaaaaaa!"

"Yes, Ash. I heard you the first time."

Pikachu is holding two small sparklers in his tiny fists, waving them around erratically. He is balancing on Ash's head. If Misty weren't so sleep and coffee deprived she might have felt a tiny bit of worry for her friend's hair. As it is, a single strand of black hair catches a spark and starts smoldering. The mouse pokemon notices and immediately starts to pat at it until the glimmer disappears. His eyes beg Misty not to tell and the girl can't help but snort, her mood lifting quite a bit at the familiar and beloved antics.

Ash didn't even notice. He is too used to Pikachu patting his head from time to time in affection or annoyance. At the sight of Misty's upturned lips he bounces up and down on his feet. "You like it?"

The girl sighs and steps closer to the monstrosity her friend has brought to her doorstep.

It's a bicycle. At least she thinks it is? It's hard to tell under the horrible color and all the paraphernalia hanging off of it. The frame is bent but it actually looks intentional. Like an art student went to town on it. Maybe it's supposed to be modern?

Her silence is loud.

"You hate it." Ash concludes sadly and damn it, it was so much easier to be firm and resist his big teary eyes when he was still an annoying little kid who got on her nerves most of the time.

"Hate is a strong word." she hedges. She lifts the cup to her lips to buy herself some time, too late remembering that there is nothing in there. She pretends to take a sip anyway. Ash, once again, doesn't notice, but Pikachu sends her a shit eating grin and she just glares back, twirling a single strand of her hair between two fingers.

And because Pikachu is the smart one in this duo he gets the message loud and clear.

"It's…" Misty tilts her head and purses her lips. "It's something else."

"It's a limited edition. And it's in your favorite color."

He sounds ridiculously proud so Misty does her best to keep a polite little smile on her face. She can't even tell what color it is. She's never seen a color like this.

"Not that I don't… appreciate it," Wow, that was a hard sentence "but… why?"

Ash plays with the handles and the bell (which sounds weird, how in Arceus name can a bicycle bell sound so weird?). He is still smiling but also not meeting her eyes. A bashful Ash is rare enough to garner her attention.

"They finally transferred my prize money from the championship."

Misty does a double take. In the back of her head she has always been aware of the prize money. How could she not be? No one really talks about the sum of it, but rumor has it that it's enough to set you up for life. A small fortune.

Knowing that Ash will come into a lot of money and hearing that he did are two very different things though. At the same time she is not surprised at all that he is still wearing his old threadbare shoes and cap and is apparently still traveling by foot.

Knowing him he's probably just transferred it all to his mother to do with it as she pleases and a big chunk to Professor Oak for taking care of his Pokémon.

And a (hopefully small) amount apparently went towards a new bike for her.

"You waited so long for a new bicycle. I wanted it to be a special one."

It's the ugliest bicycle she's ever seen. The frame looks weird, the seat uncomfortable. No way in hell will she ever ride this thing through town.

"I love it." Misty says and pulls Ash into a tight hug. "Can't believe you found one in my favorite color."

#pokémon #ash ketchum #misty pokemon #pokémon ash #ash and misty #romantic or platonic #You decide #pokémon fanfic #pokémon fandom

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temporalhiccup · 2 years

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I AM THE DUNGEON

WEEK 5 January 23-29

Was fully caught up but just didn't have the time to upload and type up any of my dungeon entries, so this is a little later than usual!

I've enjoyed how different the process feels depending on the tarot deck I'm using. It's one of the many things I love about the tarot! Different images, even if embodying similar concepts, will evoke a different intuitive response. Very cool stuff.

A lot of my writing and design comes down to only knowing the next word or two as I write, it's a process of trust and openness that's full of surprises. I edit things a little bit when I transfer the entries here, but for the most part I keep things wild and imperfect as they are.

So much of my design work in the last few years has been the dedicated act of refinement, so it's really nice to have this bit of wild writing to keep me grounded!

Eight of Swords

Eight Blades For Eight Hearts, it is only by the blades of my conviction that I will be free.

My love, there is no enemy more cunning and devious than your own self.

My love, I stand with you at the ready, to become darkest glass and palest light.

My love, I know you cannot hear me. I know the breaths between us are many miles wide and many dreams deep.

My love, I am here.

Forge the blades of your conviction through me and my sacrifice.

The Tower - The Blade of the Storm

The dungeon that you are opens eyes to reveal a storming landscape of dancing lightning and thundering rain. How do you reforge your storm into a weapon?

The High Priestess - The Blade of the Crescent

The dungeon that you are whispers and turns dark, you present eclipsed by the past to reveal no future. What did you take from your future to forge this blade?

The Sun - The Blade of Light Everlasting

The dungeon that you are is impossible blue skies held within stone walls, bright and burning. Green covers everything, turning prison into forest. What ancient fear do you burn away to forge this blade?

10 of Coins - The Blade of Possession

The dungeon that you are is riches overflowing, the sound of gold shivering in anticipation in secret rooms, jewels spreading like disease on the skin. What do you offer of value, intangible and temporary, to forge this blade?

2 of Cups - The Blade of the Kiss

The dungeon that you are is a heaven of endless stars, in the darkest of nights away from the light of harsh day. My love, that I would kiss you. In what ways do you kiss me in the dark to forge this blade?

The Devil - The Blade of the Dark Mirror

The dungeon that you are is faceted by the sharpest shadows, the multitude that you are separated into the binary of RIGHTEOUSNESS and TEMPTATION. What comforting lie do you tell yourself to forge this blade?

The Queen of Swords - The Blade of the Past

There is a lie you constructed, to protect yourself from this sharp world made of endless edges. Here, in the dungeon that you are, that lie has birthed itself again and again in a pattern never ending. The face and eyes of a woman who does not exist follows and observes your every move. What painful truth do you tell her, to forge this last blade with the lies that she is?

#dungeon23 #sword queen games #indie ttrpg #ttrpg design #tarot

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riftwalker-limbro · 1 year

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well apparently angst is in the air today and it bit me too so

i've always examined vince vs jay from his own perspective but what do pule and verica even think.

edit post-writing this: oh this is a hot pile of half-formatted brain vomit. click the read more at your own risk. my goal was to get my thoughts straight, and i did, and now this is a mess and i'm not fucking fixing it

pule did his grieving while he was still human, i think. he never did expect to see jay again, but once he remembers the worst period of his fucking life while sitting next to the two (well, 1.9) people who notable weren't there for it, it's... well, a shock is putting it lightly, i imagine. they know his name, they have the right vibes that, despite the fact he'd never felt them as human like he could now as a warframe with transference, just fit - mostly. not all of it is correct, but enough is, and the second he manages to ask if it's jay, he gets swiftly but gently corrected, that, well, yes, but also it's vince now.

once he finds out Why it's vince now, pule struggles hard with being confronted with the walking, breathing truth of accidentally getting his best friend actually killed for a while still. part of the grieving process gets reset entirely, and as friend fashion show has pointed out so excellently, it does do pule a lot of good to hang out a lot with others (bruiser, notably) that he doesn't have a painful shared past with. the threads he dropped with jay are easy to pick back up with vince, though: sharing old jokes and making new ones referencing stuff only they know, ways of thinking that are still almost identical after years of close friendship, etc. they grew together for a significant formative period of their lives, and that still affects just how suited to be each other's friend they are.

verica has a more complex headspace around this. she actively searched for him, knowing that he hadn't died but instead had become a warframe, even though he stopped pinging on the orokin radars even before she got apprehended and warframe'd herself. there's such a huge chance that he's dead, but dammit, if anyone can do the impossible, it should be the mathematician who'd managed to put a pencil into a pocket dimension between solid reality & the poisonous void. and she's... partially right.

when she wakes up on kelth's orbiter, she's going to think the idiot before her is jay. he'd done it, he'd managed to come back from the dead, and found her scattered clues. and, well, we know it isn't really jay anymore. he doesn't even confess the whole thing, at first - he just says, well, i go by vince now. and she rolls with it completely because why wouldn't she. it's only when the cracks start to show, both in his behaviour and in one certain scene between the three of them that i'm sure i'll die two and a half times while writing before i'll get it just right, that she actually realises that Nope, Not Jay. Not Like That Anymore.

she struggles with even just accepting it in her head, at first - he's so much like jay, pinging Correct in so many little ways, but he's Not, calling him by that name hurts him, and thinking of him as jay is wrong for the person vince is now. she goes through the period of grief she hadn't allowed herself even before everything.

and now, all three of them are in the same space, grieving the shit that happened to them, that one of them had to die, but at least they now have each other again. for reasons mentioned before, bonds with vince are built up extremely fast, and they quickly get to the same level of friendship they were at with jay. they go beyond, even - vince needs them more than jay did, even if he might not want to phrase it like that to not force them into anything, but they respond to it in kind. one of the consequences of the way warframes are fundamentally changed, made more rigid and less flexible, from humans in my lore makes it so that they will seek out familiarity at ridiculous costs. removing the memories from fresh frames was a fix for that by the orokin, but you can't just make something Rigid/Inflexible, apply a Change, and expect it to not eventually pop back into its original shape like memory foam.

pule & verica is also an interesting initial dynamic, i think. pule feels guilty for, well, everything - he's still under the impression that he'd gotten ghosted for life, and the fact that the warframe he'd been glaring at from the corner of his eyes, the one that had looked way too much like the recently-vanished artist octavia to be anything like a respectful tribute, had actually been her all along and he hadn't even bothered to look into it- he does struggle with it. of her own part, verica's shocked to see him at all, didn't realise that he'd whole ass up and volunteer for the program if she also disappeared, didn't realise that sitting down and letting herself grieve with him had also been an option. i imagine she does also initially carry some guilt over this, though she gets over hers significantly faster than pule does, both because it's just Less Significant Levels of Guilt & because she's just way more prone to Alright Oops Let's Move On than he is (hi. musician who's been in public about it here. making mistakes & moving on like nothing happened is a Necessary & Learned Skill. show must go on & all that)

i think pule would initially expect her to be hostile towards him, after he gets over the shock of "holy shit you're a warframe too? holy shit you're That Warframe? i was never ghosted on purpose??". but 1. even if she did have the right to get hostile, which she knows she doesn't, it wouldn't do anything, and 2. buddy friend we're still here after everything why would i be mad about getting this second chance at life. i've already lost my other friends and family and everything from that life, just let me hang on to you and this other idiot with all the strength left in me.

anyway, that's how the three of them become inseparable on an almost-physical level. a true triad. they get a shared bedroom and sleep together in a pile and everything. you'll find out

#vince #verica #pule #deimos triad #rift lore #vince is trying his damn best to suffer melodramatically from main character syndrome and i am perpetually beating him back with a stick #i mean this is still about Him. but not from his POV for a fucking change. interesting exercise.#enough whinging about Character Receiving Disproportionate Amounts of Attention in my tags bye #part of this isn't gonna make sense to anyone who isn't friend fashion show bc i've actually shown them the outline for some of this #but Nyeh. coherency is not a guarantee on this blog and it never will be. asks are open if you want. always up to develop more in detail #halfway through typing this. i already had an outline for collective but actually this is. going to throw so much around in there #and that's a fantastic thing that's a great thing #i feel like i've been missing these key thoughts. i want the difference between jay and vince respected #and this is so much more the way to do it than what i had previously #identity crisis time. for me AND for all of my triad. get fucked.#tag essay oops. condolences if you're on mobile and got carpal tunnel scrolling past this after accidentally opening it

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fitzpirations · 1 year

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Some thoughts on me seeing Days of Wine and Roses like,, almost a month ago now but I don't feel like editing it other than to add a few extra bits in bold & at the end. Overall, I really enjoyed it! Intrigued at what's next for the cast & crew, and if I could see it again/replicate my first viewing I probably would.

My thoughts, like film have developed and I am mostly out of a terribly weird headspace that I was unfortunately stricken w/ this weekend and I gotta say I loved Days of Wine and Roses.

~~~~~~~

I do think it’s perfect in the theatre it is right now & while I would LOVE for it’s actors to win very big awards for it and do believe they are due… for me a transfer is not the right move. Willing to debate on it! I think the story is important and unique and beautifully told but,, I also think the set/sound/lighting design @ Atlantic is special and can’t imagine it staged differently. It perfectly fits that space and needs that intimate of an audience, in my opinion.

anyway, this isn’t a full review & no one cares, but I’m so stoked with how things turned out & with my friend and I scoring great cancellation ticket seats & seat upgrades for a very cheap price and the fact that REDACTED who I adore was also there. my friend spoke to them while I blacked out- it was very neat. So embarrassed of myself for our post-show interactions that I’ve physically cringed and tensed up every time I think about it but! The show keeps replaying in my head and I’ve been thinking more and more about how it was told and listening to the demos and I just think how great is it to see a new piece of live theatre! I went in knowing a barebones plot (and purposely avoided real reviews, the demos, and the original movie) and was so happy to go on that ride. I do so so wish my mental health wasn’t being all finicky because I think I would’ve been all the more immersed in it but- nothing I can do about that. Luckily I didn’t say much of anything to the redacted actors in question, but my lack of interaction with one while my friend spoke to them and kept nudging me & my theatre equivalent of “good game” to the other will haunt me forever ❤️ my only consolation is I believe I wasn’t memorable in my presence & that maybe 1 day I’ll properly meet these people who I literally adore as a fellow creative. Wouldn’t that be nice. Until then, I will continue to beat myself up about it LOL. It’s so,,, I hasten to actually explain it more, but I feel about 3 feet tall thinking about it.

And did they drink ANY wine the whole time??? I’m very Kirsten in the first few scenes-coded in that I don’t drink and really never should be convinced to, haha. So I’m not super knowledgeable on names of booze- but I think I would have noticed them drinking wine, red wine at least. And no roses, just sad tulips. Oh! I could go on about the 2 little transition scenes they do with ok, both the “wine” (the bag from the liquor store that they have you you to believe is only holding one bottle) and the “roses” (the soon-to-die Tulips). Like it’s set up as a bit of like? Something to watch while they’re moving things around but actually? It reappears in the actual plot in a large way. And so many moments echo and mirror each other in words, actions, and song between Joe and Kirsten, but the reprises (so to speak) are new and fresh. Just so so neat. What a fun & exciting new piece of theatre. And why is the rolling out of the bed all the way to the front of the stage so funny? maybe it just was to me.

anyway anyway I have a lot of thoughts/they keep coming in and like loading which is wild. Like I’m joking but it’s as if I blacked out?? Perhaps someone on here will appreciate the image of me debating just buying closing night tickets even though I was too cheap to spend full price on any other performance// but a newer friend of mine posted a story of like, the New York Times review on opening night and I responded to it like “I’ve been dying to see this show!” and he was like “yeah haha it’s really good I’m working press on it lol isn’t that funny and I had to take a group pic with Kelli and was emailing her to arrange something and she saw me and called me over by name and gave me a hug- I didn’t know she knew my name!” I worked with this guy on the show I stage-managed recently and he’s in the process of quitting his sweet sweet press agent job and I’m not a close enough friend to acquire tickets from him and let me tell you,,, I was absolutely losing my mind reading this .

cut to my (other, closer) friend and I rolling up to the show without tickets the other night, with just hope & a dream and we were like 'wouldn’t it be funny if we saw like ~celebs/Broadway people because a lot of them are off tonight?' and we were chatting about watching the Tony's and stage-dooring and other unrelated stuff & we get tickets after 20 minutes and go to dinner and when we come back she’s like look it’s REDACTED TONY WINNER and I’m like omg. We go to step into the building proper and who do I see but my literal favorite actor at the moment other than REDACTED who is in the show and I was like friend it’s REDACTED! and she’s like go say hi and I’m like??? No I will not be doing that. And she’s like but he’s your favorite! And hey, we’re here to see REDACTED, who’s your other favorite! It’s a big night for you! But she was so loud that I was like looking straight ahead embarrassed that the random people in line would hear us. Literally what a time though, we had standing room tickets and then we got moved up like twice to center row, perfect view seats. Literally like a day later I was finally like O MY GOSH about it all,,, the desire to not be crazy about any of it and keep cool made me robotic in the moment and I’m very pro leaving-people-who-don’t-know-me-alone, so the circumstances were odd.

Anyway I literally have a notes app I keep throwing thoughts at about the most random moments from the show or the staging and it’s v good theatre. Like I enjoyed it, but wasn’t in love or anything but the more I stew on it, it’s a random choice of adaptation, a weird little show, its stars (including the actress playing their kid) are arguably all too old for their roles, there’s a song in Norwegian?? the opening number didn’t give me the ick but I was scared for my life that Brian was singing all of his lines// like I knew it was going to be a “two-hander” and read that the others other than the kid don’t really sing but that opener,,, I was like o no do I hate this? But also the set was so cool and as a recent big fan of Brian is was v cool to literally see him irl (lame I know) but why does the cast just pose in the beginning and slay for like 30 seconds? Idk but it was v 1950s chic of them idk idk we literally were clapping like,,, YEAH 👏👏👏 yeah! 👏👏 . And the scatting/jazziness of it all, I literally was shook but so pleasantly surprised by it all. What a treat! New musicals!!!

ok i literally never resolved the point I was making that the opening scene was not my thing and I was a bit scared I was going to hate it, but really enjoyed like the following 90%! Something about the first song is that it shouldn't be a song, in my opinion. I get why people are tempted to call it a play with songs, but I do think it's a real musical. Just was a bit cursed watching Joe singing right off the bat when no one else did, imo! If I were to see it/hear it again I may come around to it, but something about the way he was like half-singing was weird to me lol

but also randomly saw something from a video (that I haven’t watched as of yet) of Kelli saying they were supposed to open on BROADWAY February 2021 I think?? (tell me they wouldn't have closed immediately w/ omicron? or am i mistaken, I watched like 3 shows I was rooting for that season close early, and there were a TON) Literally the more I think about the show I’m like,, respectfully don’t transfer to Broadway,, it’s so special where it’s at, like I know Atlantic announced its next season I feel? But I don’t know what theatre it would fit in correctly, they’re all too big and the opposite of the intimate experience it is rn. In a perfect world I literally want them to film this version (which I know is the epitome of highly unlikely) but also, I think realistically other than the star power of the cast and creative team it’s such a hard sell for your typical theater-goer or tourist and I would hate for its history to be one of a flop like,, what have we learned from The Sweet Smell of Success :((( I also learned via Kelli ‘s own post and someone’s reference on here that there’s a full boot of that…someone please me up with a link!

So what have we learned. A lot of takes I have not shared,,, it turns out I can get starstruck and it’s so embarrassing it makes me want to scream. Show is good! I’d love a cast recording and for it to not just die but,,, I’m fearful of the idea of a transfer- it seems like it’s likely happening anyway, someone on the team commented on Kelli’s ig about the Tony's all like “excited for next year!” And my press agent friend is all “they’re eying a transfer!” And it’s not that they don’t deserve it but… idk I will remain skeptical of that. I truly believe it can be a success where it is now, and that just because it isn’t a Broadway show doesn’t mean it isn’t impactful and rewarding creatively and etc etc there is the part in my brain like this is Brian’s Tony tho, no?

I firmly believe had everything w/ Next to Normal gone down differently he would have beat those little Billy Elliots’s in a heartbeat, but I digress. Like other than SSOS which I only have a idea of (and no clue about that year’s competition from the top of my head) he’s been up for 2 comedic roles which are hard sells in a category with “proper,” dramatic roles nominated -as in, actors who appeared in a leading role in a drama- and then ITW-which I have thoughts on separate from who his competitors were- which tows that line and sadly like,, it wasn’t even close for him. I feel like every nom he’s had doesn’t even quite show off how talented he is as an actor like idk how to describe it, but idk. I want a Chip Zien nom & win for Harmony, which my brain tells me may be a featured role but if it’s lead… all hypothetical but I’m not rooting on the show’s downfall… I just think it’s perfect where it is.

Anyway... chaotic highly informal thoughts but I also have a few screengrabs from my notes app note I am going to paste below. Would love to hear someone else's thoughts, and am willing to say, obviously, one of the REDACTED's in question is BdJ.

#weird long read on days of wine and roses #i actually am a grown person who can talk to quote unquote celebrities... but there was 100% a disconnect that night which I will regret!

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