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#i have a seat in the abandoned theater
luthienne · 7 months
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Mahmoud Darwish, from The Butterfly's Burden; "I Have a Seat in the Abandoned Theater" (tr. from the Arabic by Fady Joudah)
[Text ID: I say: How is this my concern? I'm a spectator / He says: No spectators at chasm's door ... and no / one is neutral here. And you must choose / your part in the end]
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"I say: How is this my concern? I’m a spectator / He says: No spectators at chasm’s door ... and no / one is neutral here. And you must choose / your part in the end..."
Read the English translation here
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reggiecristal · 1 year
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#reggie speaks#like at this point we’re just beating the art form’s corpse#i get wanting to work with a living composer#but the vocal culture of opera is maintained by its core repertoire#it’s not possible to cultivate an operatic voice without the hand of bel canto—the notion of it and the repertoire associated with it#guiding and building voices so that the singer is empowered to tackle any rep they choose#if you can’t put butts in seats for classics maybe you’re not promoting them well#but pivoting towards contemporary works b/c your throwing everything behind them worked (shocker) risks abandoning the form’s identity#and effectively delegates singers to the role of pawns—few contemporary works showcase voices to their fullest extent#‘the hours’ sold well b/c it was headed by three divas—actual stars w/ experience and renown coming together like never before#but renee and joyce wouldn’t be shit w/o mozart strauss and rossini#those composers will be the ones to appear in their obituaries#they’re what made them household names and it was possible b/c the roles showcase the better parts of their vocalism#what does heggie do? other than write listenable non-starters to be performed in conservatories and regional theaters#this move is less about the art form’s evolution and more about how it can be twisted for profit#its spirit being marred matters not if you rig the grammys so you can stack them for better marketing advantage#that your singers have no power and burn out and discarded in less than a decade matters not#and this also absolves the Met of having to fill dramatic roles which can barely be sung anymore#simply write music for smaller voices#and never question why dramatic ones aren’t emerging or why your lyric voices burn out so quickly#god i want peter dissolved in a vat of acid#a record exec being the head of the country’s largest operatic institution was a shit move from the start#and this’ll be his legacy: killing the traditions that have kept the art form extant for hundreds of years for the benefit of his#administration and its allies#how very much like us as a nation and culture
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01zfan · 4 months
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second | j. sc
boyfriend!sungchan x fem reader | 3.4k words
second base - petting above the waist, including touching, feeling, and fondling the chest, breasts, and nipples.
contains: barely public car shenanigans, touching above the waist, fluff, smut
base series: first | second | third | homerun
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you and your boyfriend are in the front seat of his car when you two should be seating in the theater. you had plans to see a new movie. the barcode sitting on his phone that should’ve been scanned fifteen minutes ago. 
instead of watching a movie and eating popcorn, you two made the executive decision to eat eachother’s faces in the leaned back driver’s seat of sungchan’s car. you two are lucky you’re in the back of an abandoned parking lot, away from anyone who could possibly see what you two are doing. you didn’t have a chance to even make it to the theater, ruining the “date day” sungchan had intricately planned out for you. it was a surprise, sungchan first saying you two were going to the store. you should’ve suspected more when he told you to dress nice and to be fully prepared for a “day of errands”.
the date had started out at a pottery painting place. you remember in the back of your mind showing sungchan a tiktok of cute date ideas, something randomly popping up on your for you page. you had no idea he had paid attention much less booked you two an appointment to paint ceramics. you were surprised that he remembered something you showed him so long ago that even you had forgotten. you learned that although sungchan was talented with his hands, painting was not his calling. you learned that hands learned to hold a hockey stick didn’t transfer to holding a paint brush. you can’t say sungchan didn’t try his best. the idea was cute and well thought out, it was just that towards the end something along the way was lost. the finished product was allegedly supposed to be you two holding hands on a grassy field. you did everything in your power to hold back a laugh when he showed you the finished product.
“babe don’t laugh at me.” sungchan said pouting. you were two stick figures with gigantic hands. “it’s because i’m emphasizing that we are holding hands!”
when it was done you left it with the pottery staff so they could glaze the finished product. it would be awhile until they were taken home so you took a picture of your finished products. you thought the day was over, getting ready to go home. sungchan wasn’t done with you just yet. you were confused once again when sungchan parked in front of a cafe you’d never seen before. you guys went to lunch at the cafe that  also had boardgames. the food was alright, and the games were okay, but the pictures that sungchan took of you was the highlight. 
“you know how much i love taking pictures of you, babe.” sungchan said. it was funny seeing him take photos of you. he would contort his comically large body however he could to get the perfect angle of you. sungchan called you his muse, yelling compliments from behind his phone camera that made you blush. it was a nice change of pace too, since you were usually the one taking pictures of others. you always thought you were awkward in front of the camera, which is why you preferred to be behind it. but sungchan took the time to coax you out of your shell by showing you pose ideas and always complimenting you no matter how the photos turned out. 
after the impromptu photo session you were spent. you knew your boyfriend knew you well when he took you to the park. he carried the blankets while you looked for the perfect tree with shade underneath it.
you two were camped under the trees, people watching and listening to music that reminded you of one another. sungchan laid on your stomach while you played with his hair. it was a position that you guys always found yourselves slipping into when together.
“this song reminds me of you.” sungchan said, turning up the volume on his phone. it was a cute song, one about being young and in love. 
you added the song to your secret playlist, the one you had been compiling since you first met. songs that you were afraid to show him at first, songs you think he’d like, songs you liked. it had a little bit of everything and you had the plan to show it to him on some sort of anniversary. while you were playing with his hair, you wondered what brought this all on. sungchan planned dates of course, but something in the air felt different. 
“is there a reason for all of this?” you ask sungchan. he looks up from your stomach to smile at you.
“just as a celebration.” sungchan says. he looks up through the leaves of the trees filtering harsh sunlight. some of the light filters through, showing a beautiful highlight on your face. sungchan was tempted to take a photo of you but instead he opted to save the mental image of you being bathed in sunlight. 
“celebration of what?” you ask. some hair from his bangs had fallen into his eye so you move it out the way.
“hockey season is over now so i just wanted to show you that we can still spend time together.” sungchan says happily.
you smile while continuing to play with his hair. you would be lying if you didn’t have your hesitations for the season ending. you and sungchan had spent nearly every single dat of the season together as the teams’ photographer. now that it was over you thought you two would drift apart or even break up now that close proximity was no longer an option.
“i appreciate that. but i think you might be stuck with me now.” you say. sungchan smiles at you and continues to watch people around the park.
you guys stay at the park for a majority of the day. sungchan eventually ends up joining a game of volleyball as you watch from the shade of the tree. you would’ve loved to join but you didn’t want to think about sweating in your nice outfit. you also wanted to be fully seated for the show sungchan was about to give you.
your boyfriend took it upon himself to play for the both of you. sungchan was jumping, hitting, and passing with ease. you wanted to remind him that it was an innocent game of pickup volleyball. you thought it would be useless to mention it when he took off his shirt and rolled his jeans up to his knees to give him more mobility. you laughed at how much effort he was putting into the game. during breaks or in between plays sungchan would face to where you were sitting and make a show of flexing his muscles and posing for you. each time you cheered loudly like a fangirl, making sure everyone playing heard you. 
when the game was done sungchan had worked up a sweat, to the point that you both had to go back to his place so he could shower. you sat on his bed, expecting for your day to be done. you couldn’t help but be excited at the fact that you two were conveniently at his place while his parents weren’t here. you had gotten comfortable on his bed and even found on of his shirts that you could wear to sleep. you were searching through netflix looking for the perfect movie to be background noise when sungchan came out dressed in a casual outfit. you had expected to see him in his pajamas or sweats, something that would make him ready for bed. sungchan revealed the final part of your date. it was a double date, with anton and yunjin at the movie theater.
sungchan drove you both around town for a while, not sure what to do while waiting for the movie. sungchan had made the mistake of getting movie times mixed up, so now you two had thirty minutes to spare before having to be there. the whole time while he was driving you had to fight hard to ignore his hand that was on your thigh. when sungchan parked in the back of the movie theater parking lot you tried your best to sound shocked.
“we are really far away from all the other cars.” you say innocently.
“we got some time before the movie starts,” sungchan says. he moves the seat backwards with the automatic button on the side and makes use of the extra room, spreading out his body and legs. “wanna come over here?” 
sungchan helps you over the center console with ease and you are on his lap. you could never get used to the feeling of him underneath you. his athletic legs were like cushions underneath yours and his legs spreading made you extremely pliable. this position always makes you feel antsy in the best way. the way sungchan has to look up to you makes you feel like you are in charge but you both know his strength has you completely at his mercy. 
before making a move to kiss your lips, sungchan plays with an earring hanging from your ear.
“sungchan,” he pulls away from your ear to look at you in your eyes. “i had alot of fun today.” you say.
he nods as you press a chaste kiss to his lips.
“but can we have a little bit more fun? before the movie starts?” you say, looking down at him.
sungchan is more than happy to pull you into a kiss. this one is different from the one you gave him. he wastes no time to tilt your head with his hand and drag his tongue along your lips. you open your mouth wider and you let him in. you can’t get enough of the feeling when he grips the back of your neck to get you you open your mouth a little wider. he’s having the time of your life kissing him, feeling him move under you and against you. when you pull away from sungchan and you see a string of spit connection your lips to his. sungchan holds onto your hips, massaging the skin in his hands. 
“we are going to be late for the movie.” you say looking at your phone. the movie starts in twenty minutes.
“let’s go then.” sungchan says back. neither of you make a move. sungchan smirks, moving a hand going back to your neck.
“just five more minutes.” sungchan brings you in and you oblige, immediately catching his lip in your mouth. you suck on his bottom lip, the soft skin sweeter than any confections the theater can offer. 
sungchans’ hands roam up and down your body, unsure of where to put them. this is when your position above him works perfectly. it gives you just enough sense of authority to make the move to his hand and put it over your breast. 
you can instantly feel sungchan become distracted, his kisses had become delayed and his tongue freezes in your mouth. his legs that were making a game of spreading yours stop. you let him rest his big hand on your chest and use your hand over his to squeeze. sungchan took this as permission to kneed your breasts over your bra. you let out a sigh of relief when he brought his other hand to the other side to do the same thing.
“i thought you’d never do it.” you say. you lean back exposing as much of your chest as you can, giving him the entire expanse of your chest to roam.
“didn’t wanna move too fast baby.” sungchan says. 
he has completely abandoned trying to kiss you, fully focused on making up for lost time with your breasts. even over a bra and blouse your skin felt soft and yielding underneath his hands. sungchan was slowly losing himself in between the valley of your mounds and he wanted to stay there. the movie was the furthest thing away from his mind.
“do you want to see them?” you ask quietly. 
sungchan nodded like a idiot, afraid that if he said yes he would be confess that he had been thinking about your boobs like some hormonal teenager. he was ashamed to admit that he wondered if they would fit in the palm of his hands or be smaller, if your nipples were the same color as your lips, or if you played with them when you thought of him. he thought about your boobs the most when you were button up blouses like these, or on the days you’d go braless. when sungchan could see your hardened nipple through your shirts he always had to avert his eyes. he hoped you never noticed when he’d be staring at the shape of your boobs through your shirt. sungchan never wanted to pressure you to show him, but when make out sessions would get heated he wanted nothing more than to feel your chest the same way you were letting him feel them now.
you were slow and steady with each button. even though the pace was agonizing, sungchan used the time it took with each button to try and compose himself. he was liable to cum in his pants at the first look, and he absolutely had to focus on not embarrassing himself if he wanted to feel you up like he had been dreaming to. when you were halfway up, revealing the outer trim of your bra you put your hands down.
“wanna do the rest?” you asked, with a smile playing on your lips.
sungchan brings hands up to your blouse. they have a slight tremor to them and sungchan almost laughs at how ridiculous he’s being, how nervous he is for no reason. you must’ve seen his red cheeks because you put his hands over his reassuringly.
“don’t be embarrassed. i take it as a compliment.” you say. 
you both work together to undo the remaining buttons. sungchan helps your arm out of your sleeves. when the blouse is finally off of you, you are the one who’s shy. as a reflex your arms come up to cover your bosom. before you can, sungchan thumbs the fabric of your blue lacy bra in his fingers.
“i think blue is my favorite color now.” sungchan said. you would’ve taken it as a joke but the way he stared at you made you think he wasn’t kidding. sungchan looked to you with wide eyes, like it was his first time ever seeing the color blue.
“do you want me to keep it on?” you ask. seeing sungchan so enamored by you gave you confidence. 
“can i see all of you?” sungchan asked. 
you nodded as he was reaching behind you for the clasps of your bra. it only took him two tries before he was able to undo the clasps. you let out a gasp when you could feel your bra loosen on your body. there was no going back as you let the straps fall forward off your shoulders. 
sungchan thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head. even his greatest imagination fell short of what he saw before him. he felt like a teenager seeing boobs for the first time. when you used your arms to bring them closer together he had to clear his throat to focus on something else. he looked at you looking at him and was extremely aware of the tent in his pants, and how close your thighs were to it. 
“baby. can i touch them?” sungchan asked. he was pleading and desperate, as if you could ever say no to those eyes.
he was careful and attentive when he first put his hands on you. sungchan almost felt like he was tainting your pure beauty with his hands. did he even deserve to touch you? he didn’t think he was worthy to touch the supple skin, or to flick your hardening nipples. when you held him a little tighter sungchan was driven by the idea of making you feel good. when he experimentally pinched your nipples between his thumb and index finger you nodded your head vigorously. 
“keep going.” you whispered. sungchan started pinching a little hasher and you let out a new sound sungchan hadn’t heard you make before.
“does this hurt?” sungchan asked worried. he rolled both your nipples in his fingers, feeling the buds get harder and harder.
“it hurts in a good way,” you laugh. you seem to be getting carried away on your own, moving your hips slightly on sungchan’s lap. “take off your shirt.”
sungchan is upset he has to pull away from your chest to expose his. sungchans’ shirt is off in a second, thrown the backseat unlike yours that was neatly placed in the passenger side. sungchan flexes for your enjoyment and your hands go to his chest slowly. you do the same pinching motion he did to you and sungchan is shocked at the new sensation.
“wow you were right.” sungchan says. the pain is there, but it’s a type of pain that gives him a little bit of excitement. it’s the type of pain that has him reaching for your chest a little more aggressively, kneading the fleshy parts a little harder. 
you arch your back towards sungchan’s face, straining into his hands. you close your eyes as he gets more into feeling your chest. sungchan has his hands full of you now.
“sungchan,” you moan. sungchan looks at you instantly. “can you suck on it?” you ask a little louder than you meant to.
you think you may explode from the heat you feel everywhere. the car feels like it’s crackling with electricity, like a bolt of lightening is about to touchdown right beside your car. sungchan’s cold tongue on your nipple cools you down, and you lean so far back lay on the horn of his car. the blaring sound doesn’t stop as he sucks on you, and it fails to drown out your moans that fill the car. sungchan has to sit up and use his free arm to pull you into him and off his horn. it isn’t until he adds the pinching motion to your free nipple that your digging your nails into his back. 
sungchan doesn’t stop, looking at you react to his every move. he wants to tell you that you’re addicting and the softest thing he’s ever touched, but all he can do is nod and bring his mouth to your other nipple when you say you’re close. you finish when he nips a little bit, adding a new wave of pleasure coated in pain. you ride out the wave on his lap, amazed that you are having an orgasm without any stimulation in your pants. 
when you finally pull your hands off of sungchan you can see crescent moon shapes from the impression your nails left. you can barely mumble out a sorry as you slump against him, chest to chest. you are so sensitive and out of it that you almost don’t notice the wet spot where sungchan finished in his pants. 
“that’s never happened to me before.” sungchan pants into your hair. it’s relieving that he’s just as shocked as you are. 
you both stay in the drivers seat of his car trying to regain composure. when sungchan finally pulls back he lets his body rest on the back of his seat. you don’t know he means to but his bare chest and new exposed view of his neck already has your body winding up for more. you look at sungchans’ arms as he reaches to the passenger seat for your clothes. he slowly helps you back into your bra, letting you lay against his chest so he can peer over your shoulder to make sure he clasps it correctly. it isn’t until he buttons your blouse up and smoothes out your hair that he reaches to the backseat to put on his own shirt. you feel at ease even in the stuffiness of his car, so at ease that you almost fall asleep until you jerk up from sungchans’ chest. you see your phone light up with a text notification and several missed calls from yunjin.
“we are definitely going to miss the movie.” sungchan says while leaning the seat even further back.
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totheblood · 1 year
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cool about it.
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pairing: modern!ellie x reader
summary: ellie is your girlfriend, best friend, friend.... it's complicated... based on the song cool about it by boygenius
warnings: 18+: angst, cursing, drinking, ellie is lowkey a d*ck...
word count: 3.1k
a/n: i had plans to write this but you can thank jay (@elliewill) for begging me to write it because she loves angst... so this one is for her. also only two ai audios.. idk the angst ai audios made me sick i apologize
"i can walk you home and practice method acting."
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There was an overwhelming silence in the room.
Your hand was wrapped in Ellie’s, her fingers brushing over the smooth skin covering your joints. You couldn’t see her in the dark room, but you knew she was smiling. You could smell the lavender and musk rolling off her in waves, almost rendering you useless as you leaned into her. She was intoxicating in every way a person could be. But as the lights came on and the credits began to roll, Ellie pulled her hand from yours, wiping at her jeans as she turned to the group. 
“That movie was shit.” A laugh escaped her lips as she stood up, not looking at you. Sometimes when Ellie was feeling ashamed about snubbing you in public, she had a hard time making eye contact with you after. You liked to believe it was the guilt, but you weren’t so sure of that. 
“I thought it was nice.” You smiled up at her, collecting your bag from the floor and throwing it over your shoulder. Ellie’s eyes flicked down to you, then rolled back into her head. 
“You think every movie is nice,” she teased, picking up her jacket that was thrown over the back of her seat. “It’s why you give every move 5 stars on Letterboxd.”
“That’s true.” Dina chimed in as the group began making their way out of the theater. “But I liked it, so I’m gonna have to agree with her on this one. Sorry, Ellie.”
“I don’t know,” Cindy spoke up, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the bright lights from outside. “How many Scream movies are they gonna make?”
“That’s what I’m saying!” Ellie practically screamed as she held the door for you. You wanted to think that the gesture meant more, but sadly she was just being polite. You were trying your best not to overanalyze everything Ellie did in relation to you but found it hard when her hand reached for yours in every dark room. Your thoughts were cut off by the sound of Ellie calling your name. 
“What?” You looked at Ellie, a confused look plastered on your face. 
“I asked if you wanted a ride to your apartment. Dina and Cindy are going back to the dorms.” She said matter of factly, slipping on her jacket. 
“Oh, yeah. That would be great.” You turned to say bye to Dina and Cindy before following Ellie to her car. You knew her car too well. The pickup truck she’d drive you to 7-11 in nearly every night was on its last leg and needed a repair almost every month, but Ellie swore by it. She always made some comment about how loyal she was for not abandoning her car, but you always joked back that she couldn’t afford a new one. She’d roll her eyes and grab the Slurpee cup from your hands, taking a sip as payback. 
It was tender moments like that one that kept you coming back, despite Ellie’s refusal to commit. It was an unspoken understanding between the both of you, but you knew that if you talked about it that Ellie would validate your fears. So you just didn’t talk about it. 
You let her lean over the seat and kiss you when you got in the car, but not before looking out the window to make sure Dina and Cindy had pulled off. Her mouth tasted like cherry and vanilla, and her hands pressed at the side of your cheeks. You had to romanticize moments like this, the secret kisses and stolen glances. Otherwise, it would just be pathetic. 
You were unsure if you were in love with Ellie, but you wanted to spend all of your free time in her back pocket. You wanted a necklace engraved with her name hanging around your neck as if she owned you. You wanted to bring her home to meet your parents, her hands shaking as they hugged her. Maybe it was love, or maybe it was you hanging onto the brief moments that her tongue was tucked into your cheek.
“If you’re gonna hold my hand throughout the movie, maybe you should just take me out on a date,” you laughed, watching her face fall. Mentally, you were cursing yourself, but your gentle smile remained.
“That’s not what this is.”
“I know, it’s just-” 
“The movie was scary, I thought you’d want me to hold your hand through it.” Ellie cut you off, her tone sharp. She began buckling her seatbelt, wanting to escape the conversation as soon as possible. “If I knew you’d make a big deal about it I wouldn’t have done it.”
“Yea, no. You’re right, Ellie.” You gave in like you usually did when it came to Ellie. If something you said came too close to referring to you and Ellie as an ‘actual relationship’, she would shut down completely. You don’t know why her body tensed up, or why she avoided eye contact, but you didn’t want to push it. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, I just-” Ellie sighed as she put the car in drive, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road. One hand was planted on the steering wheel while the other rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “I don’t want this to be too complicated. I like what we have. It’s easy.”
“Yea, I know.” Your voice sounded as small as you felt. As easy as this was for Ellie, it was torture for you. Not only could you not tell her how you truly felt, but you also felt like you couldn’t tell any of your friends about it. Another frustrated sigh fell from Ellie’s lips, you could tell she was trying. 
“Look, Jesse is throwing a party tomorrow night.” She glanced over at you in the passenger seat, her expression unreadable. “How about you come with me?” 
You knew she wasn’t asking you out on a date. You knew that and yet your heart still leaped in your chest at her request. You knew it wasn’t a date and you still agreed to go.
-
You felt pathetic trying on every outfit in your closet, trying to make sure whatever you wore would accentuate your best features. You settled on a simple tank top and jeans, throwing a flannel over it in case it got cold. Despite knowing how the night was most likely going to go, you still wanted to look your best for Ellie. It was the first time she’s ever asked you to go anywhere public and in the back of your mind you imagined this night changing the dynamic of your relationship completely. 
Ellie picked you up early, her car making some weird sputtering noise as she pulled up. She looked you up and down when you climbed into the car, her stare making your cheeks heat up. 
“You look nice,” Ellie mentioned, hand on the steering wheel. She waited until you were buckled in to press a kiss to your lips, smiling before she pulled off. The conversation in the car was nothing substantial, just small talk about classes and friends, and how much work the both of you had to do. 
Outside of the frat house people were scattered on the lawn. A couple sat on the front porch making out while the music inside made the wood shake. There were a lot more people here than you anticipated, and you could tell Ellie was getting nervous. Usually, when she was nervous she’d reach for your hand, but tonight she trailed behind you.
Jesse, Dina, Cindy, and some of Jesse’s frat friends were huddled in the kitchen when you arrived. Jesse greeted you with a drunken smile and the slurring of your name, pulling you in for a hug.
“Nice to see you brought your girlfriend, El.” He joked, bringing Ellie into a half hug and attempting to give her a fist bump. Ellie’s mouth hung open as her eyes darted around the group, avoiding eye contact with you. Then she let out a laugh, a loud full-chested laugh as she held her stomach. 
“She- she’s not my girlfriend.” She managed between laughs. The way she said it as if it was a joke that she could ever date you made your heart drop. She still hadn’t even glanced at you. If she had she would’ve seen the way your smile faded and eyes dropped to the floor. 
“I know that,” Jesse laughed, lifting his red cup to his lips and taking another swig of his drink, “It’s just you guys always hang out… it’s a joke.”
“Damn right, it’s a joke.” Ellie chuckled with the rest of the group. You were struggling to find the humor in this so you just gave the group a tight-lipped smile and excused yourself. You pushed past the sweaty bodies to make your way into the living room where some guy was dipping red cups into a giant container filled with red liquid. He didn’t even look at you as he handed you a cup but you still thanked him.
You took the drink with you outside, sitting on the steps of the porch and drinking the vile liquid. You coughed on your first sip but as you downed it and the buzz filled your body it became more tolerable. About 30 minutes had passed with you sitting in there, occasionally saying hi to people you knew from class that were going in and out of the house. 
You didn’t even notice when Ellie came out and stood in front of you. Her arms were crossed over her chest, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 
“Where have you been all night?” Ellie’s voice came out meaner than expected, but she was starting to believe you had left her. “I’ve been looking for you.”
“Couldn’t have looked that hard,” a bitter laugh fell from your lips, your eyes glued to your phone, not wanting to look up at her. “I was sat here all night.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” Ellie’s hand shook your knee gently, urging that she wanted you to look up at her. When you did, you stared her down, a tightness behind your eyes. 
“It’s nothi-”
“It’s someth-”
“It’s you!” Your voice came out in a whisper-yell, causing Ellie to look around at the other people outside. No one was paying attention to you. “Earlier when you laughed when Jesse called me your girlfriend. That’s my problem, Ellie.”
“Oh my god,” Ellie groaned, her hands rubbing at her face. “You’re serious?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” You stood in front of her, the steps making you taller than her. 
“Cause that’s fucking ridiculous, I’m sorry.” Ellie turned around and began walking down the road towards her car, you hot on her trail. 
“That’s ridiculous?” She stopped halfway down the block, turning to you. You were almost sure she led you out here to make sure no one would see you fighting.
“Yes, it’s fucking ridiculous because you always do this!” Ellie’s voice sounded tired as if she was at her breaking point with you. “You always make something out of nothing. I hate to break it to you but you are not my girlfriend and you never have been.”
“But I’m something.” You fought back tears, the sentence coming out more like a question. 
“You’re-” Ellie sighed, looking away from you. “You’re my friend, okay? That’s what it is and if you can’t handle being my friend then maybe we shouldn’t be friends.” 
This was as close to a breakup as you would get with Ellie. 
“Friend.” The word sounded bitter on your tongue. “Friends don’t kiss each other, Ellie.” Your voice was small again.
“They do.” She stated matter-of-factly, “They do because we do. You have never been more to me than a friend.”
You couldn’t stop the tears in your eyes, you knew this was how she felt but never expected it to come out of her mouth. The 8 months you wasted now hitting you like a ton of bricks. Nodding you let out an ‘okay’ and began making your way down the street.
“Where are you going?” Ellie called after you, following you as you picked up your pace. 
“I’m going home, I’m calling an Uber.” You didn’t turn to look at her but could feel her behind you.
“Don’t..” She sighed again. “Don’t do that, I can take you.”
“No, I’d rather not see you again.” Ellie’s footsteps behind you stilled causing you to turn around. The hurt on her face was evident, though no tears fell. She was just staring through you. 
“Fine,” was all she said before turning around and heading back to the party.
-
You didn’t talk to or hear from Ellie for a month after the party. She didn’t call to make sure you made it home safe or text you to tell you she was sorry. There was nothing on her end or your end so you stopped talking. Dina and Cindy barely noticed the shift between the two of you with finals coming up so they never asked.
You were left to mourn what felt like a relationship, but never really was. There was a person who knew everything about you, how you scraped your knee when you were nine, and how much you hate blueberries, who no longer spoke to you. You wondered what she did with that information. If everytime she had a blueberry muffin she thought of you. 
Not to your knowledge, Ellie did think about you. She thought about the way your hair smelt and how you used to sing along to throwback songs in the car with her. She thought about how she used to tell you the things she used to be scared to say out loud, and how you would rub at her shoulder to soothe her. She thought about the scrape and the blueberries and the way your eyes glossed over when you cried. She tried not to think about that night at that party and what your eyes looked like.
As summer came around and everyone packed their bags to go back home, you found yourself enjoying the heat from the sun as it prickled at your skin. Summer’s in Jackson were filled with fireworks, sidewalk chalk, and popsicles. Groups of teenagers hung out in the parking lot of the local convenience shop, drinking redbulls and laughing loudly with their friends. 
Jackson was small so the fear of running into Ellie only grew as the summer went on. You did your best to avoid the places you knew she went, until you couldn’t. You found yourself inside the brightly lit convenience store right by Ellie’s house, looking through the candy section for gummy bears. It was late and this was the only store open close enough for you to ride your bike to so you took that risk. 
As if fate was out to get you, Ellie walked into the store phone in hand and freckles more prominent than they usually were. Her face had a little bit of a red tint to it and her hair was pulled back into a bun. She looked relaxed, but more than that she looked fine. You don’t know why it bothered you, but it did.
Upon seeing you her entire demeanor changed. Her entire body became rigid, mirroring yours as she contemplated on what to do. She looked to the packages overflowing in your hand and laughed. She wanted to make a joke, but didn’t know how you would take it so she remained silent. 
“Hey,” she pursed her lips as she approached you. You looked like you had seen a ghost and Ellie wanted to laugh, to kiss at your nose until you smiled but she doubted that would happen.
“Hey,” you responded flatly, not wanting to give her any satisfaction. 
“Long time, no see,” she breathed out a short laugh, looking around. Ellie forgot what she came in here for. 
“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes and pushed past her, placing your things on the counter. The guy behind the counter began ringing them up, eyes looking in between you and Ellie as she followed you to the register. 
“Do you think we can talk?” Her voice was hushed, smooth even, and god you missed it. You glanced at her, worry was written all over her face. You sighed and reluctantly agreed. When you got outside you placed your bag in the basket of your bike and turned towards her. 
“I’ll walk you home, but after that I’m leaving, okay?” This was the rudest you have ever been to Ellie and you felt awful. You were just protecting yourself but you didn’t want her to see this as a way to wiggle back into your life. 
“Cool, cool.” Ellie responded as she watched you walk with your bike, your hand firmly on the handles. She glanced over at you, heart warming at the sight of your face. “How’ve you been?”
“Good, finals went well.”
“That’s good.”
“Do you regret it?” You stopped in the middle of the sidewalk to look at her, to see her reaction when she answered. 
“No,” was all she said, making you roll your eyes. 
“Why?”
“Cause I wasn’t ready,” she sighed and continued walking, hoping you would follow her. “I would’ve destroyed you.”
“You did.”
“No, I didn’t,” her green eyes looked dark in the illumination of the street lights. “Look at you, you’re here and you’re still you.” 
“I’m not still me,” you rolled your eyes, “I’m scared-”
“-I was scared,” her voice over lapped yours, the bite in her tone back. “I was your first… whatever that was… but you weren’t mine.” 
“Way to rub it in.”
“No, I mean,” she took a deep breath, “I did the relationship shit before and it didn’t end well. It made me into this. I think if you and me became real… it would’ve not only killed you but also me.”
“I think you should’ve let it happen. Give me that choice.”
“I did what was best for me,” Ellie’s voice was strong, she was sure of herself, “and for you, but you don’t have to believe that.”
“I don’t believe it.”
“That’s okay.” 
“Do you miss me?” you whispered.
“All the time,” she smiled to herself, “but I’m doing fine.”
When you got a good look at her you noticed the bags under her eyes, the worry line on her forehead that was growing. She even looked smaller. Nothing about her made it seem like she was doing okay, but it didn’t make sense to press her on the matter. It hurt, but a part of you understood it, understood her. The idea of getting close to someone terrified you, and you couldn’t pretend that you didn’t understand where she was coming from, but it didn’t help that her deep-seated fear was now being passed down to you.
“That’s good,” you gave her a fake smile, “I’m happy to hear it.”
“This is me,” she gestured towards her house before turning back to you and giving you one last smile, “You’ll be okay.”
“I know.”
ai audios:
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leonardcohenofficial · 7 months
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mahmoud darwish, "i have a seat in the abandoned theater"
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rebelliousstories · 9 days
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Faces of Old, Faces of New
Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader
Fandom: Fallout
Request: No
Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Insecurities, Suggestive Themes, Strong Language
Word Count: 1,268
Main Masterlist: Here
Fallout Masterlist: Here
Part Two of: Not On My Watch
Summary: Holing up in some abandoned movie theater, Cooper is shocked to find one of his old films still in the projector.
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“Ooo, we hit the mother load, baby. Look! Our very own movie theater!” She giggled as she ran inside like a child. There were still bodies scattered about but what place in the Wasteland did not have them? Cooper followed after her and chuckled as he watched his partner sprint to the theater.
He looked around in the lobby at the abandoned food and drink stations that had long since been wiped cleaned. It was sending him back in time; back to before the bombs and life was simpler and safer. To when he would take his daughter to the theater to see a picture, sometimes even his, because “daddy was her hero.” Premiering his new picture at a theater and being able to meet his adoring fans. The thought alone made his feel self conscious.
Cooper turned his head to see his partner stalking her way up a set of stairs that led to the projection room. His spurs clicked as he followed her up the old stairs. Surprisingly, the theater’s projection room was left seemingly intact, save for a bit of dust coating the surfaces. She giggled as she sat in a chair and began to spin around in it.
“Well, we can have us a little movie night, darlin’.” The Ghoul drawled, stopping her spinning with a mischievous grin on his face.
“You don’t know how long I have waited to be able to have one. I’ve always heard about movies but I’ve never seen one.” She commented, looking wistfully out to the theater room.
“Well, let’s see if we can’t get this baby to work.” He replied, beginning to dust off the different surfaces across the room. It reminded Howard of his very first job at the movie theater in his home town that allowed him to be paid to watch movies. He could not hear the dialogue for the most part, as the speakers were not n the projection room, but it did not matter. Cooper could quote most of the movies he saw word for word with deadly accuracy.
Finding familiar switches and knobs, he began to fire up the old machine. When it roared to life, he was shocked by the startled scream let out behind him. Turning, Cooper locked eyes with his partner.
“Sorry. Didn’t expect that sound to come out of that machine.” She muttered sheepishly. Cooper turned back to his work of getting the film up and running. He got the film starting its projection and flipped the speakers on.
“Come on, let’s go find us a seat, darlin’.” And with that, while the previews were going, Cooper took her by the hand and led her down the rickety stairs. They snagged their seats and waited for the feature presentation to start. It once it did, Cooper’s giddiness disappeared. He saw his name and face pop up on the silver screen, and saw how the story began to unfold. Even after all these years, he still remembered some of the lines.
“Hey, it’s you baby.” She pointed out happily. Her eyes glazed over as she watched her partner from years ago in the western.
“That ain’t me no more.” He grumbled, unable to keep his eyes off of the screen.
“Course it is. You’re just taking the role more seriously now.” She joked, finally looking at the current state of her lover. His deep voice echoed through the theater, throwing her off since she had only heard it right in front of her before.
“Hey,” she rubbed his arm gently, “what’s goin’ on in that head of your handsome?”
“Now how can you say that?” Cooper abruptly got up from his seat and began to pace in the isle beside them.
“Baby, what is going on?” Following his lead, she abandoned the moving picture in favor of trying to calm down her partner. Grasping his arm gently in her hands, the woman slowed his pace till he was just standing there, looking at the floor.
“You gotta talk to me, Coop. Ain’t gonna drive me away and it’s just us. We are the only ones here to hear this.” Her hand moved from his arm to his face in a delicate cradle. Far more delicate than he was expecting.
“You can’t say that to an old, ugly cowpoke like me. I ain’t deserving of that.” He lamented. Howard sounded so unlike himself. He sounded defeated. Like he has finally come face to face with his worst fear after all these years.
“Now why in the hell do you think that? I think you’re handsome, and attractive. Is it cause of your film?” Turning around, she saw the face of her lover up on that silver screen. His skin was smoother and his nose still in tack. Teeth pearly white, a gorgeous crop of har underneath his Stetson.
“Don’t look like that no more. Ain’t that same man. Not even close on the inside or the outside.” Cooper still had yet to pick his eyes up off of the floor below them when she turned around. Taking a deep breath in, and letting it out just as slowly, she began to speak.
“Coop, I don’t care that you don’t look like a movie star anymore,” he looked up at her with her words, “at least you still got the eyes. You got the voice. Sure as shit still got the build. You’re still you baby.”
“How could you still think that after looking at that and then looking at me?” Cooper looked so sad as he mourned his previous life.
“Because I don’t know that version of you, Coop. But I do know this one. The most badass, gunslinging, son of a bitch Ghoul to ever stalk the Wastelands. And I don’t care if you had everyone doting on you and now you feel that’s gone. But that doesn’t matter. I just want you right now. Not you of two hundred years ago.” She hugged him so close to her that he thought he was going to pop a radiated lung. Wrapping his arms around her, he squeezed her tight with the same force she gave him.
“Now, you gonna make this old cowpoke go soft again. Can’t have that.” Cooper pressed a kiss to the side of her head, and let her draw back.
“Never goin’ soft. Still as hard and beautiful as ever.” She pressed her lips to his.
“I’ll show you something hard and beautiful.” He smirked as he drew her into yet another kiss, this time deeper, and she smiled with him into it.
“Oh no, no, no. I wanna watch you be a sheriff for the next hour and then you can show me that something hard and beautiful, huh?” Teasing her partner, she took his hand to drag them back to their seats. However instead of occupying two, Cooper sat down first and dragged her into his lap. They wiggled around just a little bit to find a more comfortable position, which only made Cooper growl lowly into her ear.
“You stop that wigglin’ right now if you want to continue this picture right here.” Sending a swat the the outside of her thigh, she stopped for a brief second as the pain registered, but continued to find the right spot. Once she did however, she looked over her shoulder to her partner.
“Shh! The movie is playing.” Her harsh whisper caused a chuckle to come out of the ghoul behind her. He tightened his grip on her waist, before settling down to watch the feature presentation when his features were more present.
@imtherain
~
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luvyeni · 21 days
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p. bsf!sohee x fem!reader | warnings: voyeurism (?), blowjob, allusions to sex | words: 0.8k ~ (854) 💂‍♂️ㆍ₊⊹
request: sohee smut pleaseeee 🫶🏻?
authors note. here you go lovey🩵
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
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living in the ages of various streaming services; you barely made it out to go the movies; opting to wait until it came on tv— avoiding spoilers on tiktok so you could peacefully watch it the comforts of your own home; you just really didn’t enjoy the inside movie theater— so imagine your surprise when your best friends basically kidnaped you to drag you to a random drive in movie theater.
“sohee are you serious?” you scoffed as you pulled into the almost empty theater, the other three cars probably containing couples who want to fuck or teens needing a place to get high— or both. “what?” he smiled. “i thought it would be fun.”
the teenager who probably wanted a job but didn’t want to do any work sat scrolling on his phone. “this place is like 100 years old, and i doubt that popcorn is any good.” you pointed. “don’t worry I got us covered.” he pointed to the back seat, a bag full of snacks and drinks. “just gotta tune the radio so we can hear the movie.” he said. “cheer up, it will be fun.”
you decided to give it a try and not be so pessimistic— grabbing a blanket to cover yourself, grabbing some chips and a beer. “you know, most people don’t come to these things.” sohee said; munching on some chips. “yeah.” you laugh. “as you can see these three cars here besides ours and that car has been rocking for the past 20 minutes and there’s smoke coming out that one.” you pointed it out. “and i think that one is abandoned.”
he look around pouting; he really wanted to try something new with you. “don’t be too upset, you know i don’t like these types of things, but this isn’t all that bad so i give you props.” you reached over, pinching his cheek. “good job.” he smiled, stuffing his face some more with his favorite trip.
a few more minutes past of watching the movie when you heard a loud moan. “oh my god.” you let out a snort. “told you.” you turned to your friend, who’s neck was now red. “aw is our little sohee getting excited hearing the couples have sex.” he scratched the back of his neck. “sh-shut up.” You laughed. “you are!” you exclaimed, he whined covering his face. “is that why you invited me out here to live out you voyeur fantasies, pervert.”
sohee felt himself chub up in his pants, your words along with the moaning was doing unimaginable things to him. “it is hot, isn’t it?” you said. “he seems to really be giving it to her.” you smirked, seeing his hand come up to cover his hard on. “y-yn.” you placed your hand on his knee. “please don’t.”
“you don’t want me to touch you?” you tilted your head teasingly. “the movie still has 30 minutes left, are you gonna sit there palming your cock to the couple fucking next to us or are you gonna let me suck you off?” he moved his hand, heavily breathing; he couldn’t believe his best friend was about to suck him off. “lift your hips up.”
he lifted his hips, letting you pull out his cock, his tip dark red, dripping with pre-cum. “shit, hearing them fuck made you this hard, you really are a little perv aren’t you?” he let out a loud whimper as your hand wrapping around his length. “its kind of pathetic.” You squeezed his cock. “oh fuck! please don’t do that.” he moaned out.
“why?” you pouted, leaning over;;kissing his tip. “you gonna cum just from me squeezing your cock.” you squeezed it again, gripped the arm of the chair. “really pathetic hee.”
you finally put the boy out his misery, putting his cock into your mouth. “fu-fuck.” he moaned. “yo-your mouth is.” he gasped, unable to speak barely as you bobbed your head, jerking off what you couldn’t speak. “oh fuck your so good.” his head was thrown back, his hand coming to your head softly, caressing it. “sh-shit.”
it was messy, the noises from your mouth as you gagged on his cock will fuel him with jerk off material for mouth. “fuck yn im gonna cum, please get of.” you pulled off of him, looking at him in the eyes, stroking his cock. “come on hee, look at me.” you purred, the boy forced himself to look at you. “good boy.”
“come on cum for me, want you to cum in my mouth.” you put your mouth on his tip, sucking as you stroked the rest of his cock. “shit im cumming.” His hand slapped against the window. “ngh fuck!” he shouted, his cum spurting from his cock, hitting your tongue. “shit.”
you let him finish, pull off of him, swallowing his sticky substance. “yo-you didn’t have to.” but you weren’t listening, taking off your shirt, climbing into his lap, feeling his cock twitch against your clothed cunt. “just pay me back.” you kissed him. “h-how.”
“theres still 20 minutes left, let’s see how many times your cock can make me cum.”
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©️LUVYENI
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mafiatsunafish · 2 months
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I say: How is this my concern? I'm a spectator
He says: No spectators at chasm's door ... and no one is neutral here. And you must choose your part in the end
Mahmoud Darwish, from The Butterfly's Burden;
"I Have a Seat in the Abandoned Theater" (tr. from the Arabic by Fady Joudah)
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artist-issues · 1 year
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I’m going to say it.
I don’t think How to Train Your Dragon 3 was good.
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Not when you compare it to literally either of the other movies. Certainly not as a conclusion.
I mean, the first movie was about a boy who manages to understand a hostile dragon species and bring peace to two warring factions, which is a parallel for his relationship with his father. The second film was about how sometimes, peace has to be fought for, and Hiccup’s whole identity was in contrast with that—because while his mother ran from conflict and his father leapt at it too eagerly, he had always been the one to stop the fighting. Then he has to learn that the things we love are worth protecting. 
And after he learns that humans and dragons can learn to understand each other and coexist—after he learns that it isn’t enough to run and hide or fight out of fear, but instead you must protect the things you care about—
After those two natural, powerful progressions are clearly worked for in the first two movies—
How to Train Your Dragon 3 comes along and says “‘No actually, sometimes all it takes is one madman whom you defeated with no loss of life to convince you that the things you care about should just crawl into a very pretty hiding hole, because you don’t feel like spending the rest of your life fighting for them.”
And I can say more. Below the break. 
Because I’ve waited a long time to talk about this. Everybody around me was saying that the third HTTYD movie was sooo good, how could I not love it, what was my problem, they’re crying in the theater seats around me, they’re all moved, but nobody can tell me why. What makes HTTYD3 so good, STORY WISE? What makes the fact that Toothless, who is established as “Hiccup’s Other Half” and his character’s support, leaving, a good conclusion?
And it’s not just that my feelings were hurt at the idea of this iconic duo being split up in the finale. 
It just doesn’t make any sense. Because the main thing that the whole series was built around was the adversity Hiccup and Toothless were always going to come up against, because they shouldn’t be friends. The whole first movie is like “dragons and Vikings hate and kill each other, there’s no way to get over this fear, nobody can be around Night Furies without dying,” and Hiccup and Toothless literally fly in the face of that. Then the whole second movie is “dragons either have to be left completely alone to themselves and their ways in the wild apart from man, or they have to be brutally enslaved as war machines under man’s boot” and then Hiccup and Toothless fly in the face of that. They stick together as their own, unique partnership, and it changes the world in HTTYD and in HTTYD2.
And then in the third movie, boom, Toothless suddenly doesn’t belong with Hiccup anymore? Suddenly it’s essential that he live completely separate, alone with “his own kind?” Suddenly it’s too hard and too dangerous to protect this dragon-Viking way of life that the whole first and second movie worked for?
I mean. They even abandon Berk. They fought so hard for Berk throughout three television series and two excellent movies. 
And I get it. The idea is that, they left Berk because Berk is a people, so no matter where they go Berk is still alive, just like no matter where Toothless goes, his friendship with Hiccup is “still alive.” And that’s a fine theme, I guess, except it totally makes the first two movies seem worthless. It makes Hiccup’s mom seem right for abandoning her family and giving up on the idea that humans and dragons could ever live peacefully. According to HTTYD3, Hiccup and Toothless never should have interacted again after he cut Toothless free of the net. Because Toothless should’ve just…gone on to live with his own kind.
Oh except he couldn’t, because Hiccup knocked his tail fin off and Toothless needed Hiccup. Just like Hiccup was weird and innovative in a time of traditional brutish Vikings, and he, in his own way needed Toothless. So they couldn’t live among their own kind without one another. 
And I see that HTTYD3 is trying to say “‘yes, they needed each other, but now they’ve grown up and the only thing left to learn is how to let go and move on.” But you know what, if you were going to tell me that, you shouldn’t have made the driving motivation for these characters to leave one another: “too many bad guys keep inevitably attacking us.”
You also shouldn’t have made the secondary driving motivation: “Toothless likes a pretty girl dragon and he can’t be with her and be with Hiccup because she’s Too Wild.™” Because guess what? The other thing that all of the previous canon content set up was that Hiccup can basically tame and befriend any wild dragon.
There are very few dragons, even in the TV show, that he cannot make friends with and live side-by-side with, and the ones that existed were basically just big, angry killing machines who presented themselves as way more threatening in mannerisms than the Light Fury does in the third movie. The Red Death eats other dragons; the Light Fury warns other dragons of traps. The Skrill tries to lightning-fry every human around it; the Light Fury only ever plasma blasts at humans that surprise her while she’s actively snooping around their camp.
I am willing to buy a story where a dragon needs to be free of his human master if he wants to have a future with his own kind, but you can’t do that if the dragon in the story is Toothless and the master in the story is Hiccup. Because those characters’ relationship was established as the future of their kind. Viking’s way forward was dragons—dragons’ way forward was Vikings. 
And that brings up another bone of contention with me—the first reason for the finale split-up—what made Grimmel so terrifying that it convinced Hiccup to uproot his whole tribe from their ancestral home and eventually give up on fighting for his dragon/Viking way of life, and Toothless himself? Was it that Grimmel was a better strategist than Hiccup? Because Grimmel lost and died, so there’s no reason for that to remain the reason. Was it because Viggo had a whole army of people that were slapped together to hastily represent “the rest of the world” and a bunch of dragons—again, DRAGONS, Hiccup’s specialty—to attack them with? Because again, all of them lost. And Berk sacrificed nothing in the process, unless you count, like…stress.
And DON’T give me any crap about the epilogue. Don’t tell me “‘Oh, OP, you totally ignored the part at the end where Toothless and Hiccup’s new families visit each other, they’re not gone forever, they’re just Friends From Afar, living at peace, protecting the peace by staying apart.”
That is 1) a terrible cowardly step back from any emotional impact that the big goodbye and sense of sacrifice that living apart from each other should have given the audience, and 2) still doesn’t negate the fact that Hiccup and Toothless WERE fighting for their way of life, which was living together, since movie 1, and the fact is whether they visit each other or not they still don’t get to have that anymore. For no good reason. I could say more. I could talk about how silly I think a lot of the Light Fury plot is, how poorly set-up the Hidden World was as a conclusion piece, blah blah blah. But instead, I’ll just leave this quote from the end of How to Train Your Dragon 2, and you tell me how the logical conclusion to this quote was “let’s abandon our home and stuff our dragons in a hiding-hole because the enemies and armies that have never once actually defeated us are just too much hassle to keep fighting with.”
“This is Berk. A bit trampled and busted and covered in ice, but it's home. It's our home. Those who attacked us, are relentless, and crazy. But those who stopped them, oh, even more so! We may be small in numbers, but we stand for something bigger than anything the world can pin against us. We are the voice of peace, and bit by bit, we will change this world. You see, we have something they don't. Oh, sure, they have armies, and they have armadas. But we... we have... OUR DRAGONS!"
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midas-lost-it · 2 years
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Gotham's Haunted (by a Little Shit)
The theater had once been majestic, there was no doubt of that.
Even if its walls collapsed every now and then, even if the rotten floors seemed to want to swallow you whole like time has done with the place, even if the stairs made noise with non-existent steps, and the rats and vandals had left their mark there like the actors from past years.
You could see it in the way the stage stood, almost untouched by decadence, as if haunted by glory days.
You could hear it in the rumours surrounding it.
All the vigilantes of the city saw and heard, though, was that there was a seemingly abandoned building with lots of space and suspicious noise coming at suspicious hours.
And with their work, they had to deal with it as if a crime was already in place, or about to.
It's the paranoia that kept them alive for so long, or at least that's what Bruce said.
So, one night, a couple of them went to investigate.
All was normal- for an old, abandoned building, that is.
And then they heard it.
"Excuse me, do you know when the next play is?"
Nightwing was closer, so he reacted first, turning to the voice. There, sitting in one of the old seats, was a dark haired teen, who shielded his eyes from the light Nightwing shone his way.
"Calm down, dude, I'm just messing with you."
Nightwing debated for a moment if he should get closer -nothing was safe in this city, much less in his line of work- but ultimately decided to do it, nodding to one of his brothers to come too. Just in case.
"Well, you surprised me," said the vigilante. "Didn't expect to find someone just appreciating the view..."
"Yeah, no shit, me neither. Of course the night I come here you guys crash too.."
"So, what are you doing here, kid?"
Bold of Red Robin to call him that, seeing how the boy seemed around his age.
"A dare. My friends and I heard this place was haunted, and they thought I should check it out."
"Wow.. what kinda friends do you have?"
"Seen anything interesting yet?"
The boy shrugged, blue eyes -don't let Bruce find him- glued to the front as if he was actually watching a play unfold before them.
"A pair of rats fighting here, a couple masked boys there," he smirked. "More than I expected, really."
"I take it you don't believe in ghosts?"
A chuckle came from their new friend then, as if he had heard an old joke, echoing through the whole damn building. He finally looked at them.
"I don't really have another choice..."
And he faded away.
-
"Bruce? Bruce, uh, there's a-"
"Meta," Tim said before Dick could finish that sentence. "We just found and lost a meta..."
"Yeah, what Red Robin just said."
"How do you lose a meta so fast?" Jason commented, having gotten there while they were trying to process the strange interaction.
"You forget to cherish him!"
"...The fuck-"
-
Duke was watching the footage of the other guys' "spooky" adventure, when he got a new message, just as the echo-y last phrase was heard. Then another. And another one.
They hadn't stopped sending him "we cherish you" texts since the meta suggested.
And really, it felt nice, but he didn't know if he wanted to thank the boy or throw his phone at him. He'll figure it out when they find him.
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midnightnautilus · 15 days
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Ok after seeing Workin Boys I’ve been thinking about an alternate post credits ending - this probably doesn’t go with the vision but play with me for a bit
(SPOILERS)
Credits roll…
And it’s late at night. We cut back to the abandoned Starlight.
Hidgens wakes up in a pool of his own blood. He looks around.
He survived?
Or is this some kind of afterlife?
He wasn’t sure if he was a ghost - he didn’t think he had any unfinished business.
The show went great!
Suddenly, he hears someone clapping, and we see, from the behind, the sillhouette of a man.
Hidgens looks up, startled, awed, and just a bit lovestruck.
“Chad! It really is you! I swear, I know it looks empty, but the theater was bustling! I fixed the show, really I did! I wish you could have seen—“
“Henry. Don’t worry. I saw it.”
“You—you did?”
Close up on Henry, nervous. We don’t see chad.
C: “I thought it was wonderful, Henry. Just brilliant. You saw what others did wrong and decided to take the helm yourself.”
H: Yes! That’s it, exactly! My vision couldn’t be uncompromised!
We see a close up of Chad’s hand. He brushes a finger across a bloody seat and feels it between his fingers.
Chad: I’ve been thinking, Henry…I’ve recently hit the jackpot on some stocks and I’d… like to help produce your play on a world tour.
What do you say?
Henry jumps up to his feet, several holes still in his stomach.
H: Yes! Yes! Of course! Anything for you, Chad! Oh this is…the happiest day of my life!
The two lock arms and the man in the sparkling blue business suit, the one holding the cracked stony theater mask, the man who calls himself Chad, smiles.
P: Oh yes. What a day it will be.
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Text
I've been dreaming of the Spectator of Diamonds.
The stage is wrecked, the crowd is gone. But,,, the show, it must go on. He is both the actor and the audience.
How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?
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Cater settles into his seat. It’s cushy and comforting, the pillows almost cloud-like as he sinks down, becoming one with them.
The theater--empty, dark--is his domain, his castle. And he, the lone king atop of it all.
Click, click, click!
He looks up, finding that the stage lights have flared on. Glaring, hot. Four figures stand there in masks--yet he can see the echoes of himself in their verdant eyes, the orange hair cropping out from their false faces.
They are he, and he is they.
The set rolls in, setting the scene. They are wooden cutouts painted over and mounted in wheels or lowered on pulleys. Students in the wings operate them, hidden from the audience's view.
Here begins another story, a series of illusions to craft a beautiful lie.
"There's so much to do before the unbirthday party!" declares Cater the First, a crown upon his head. He waves an ornate staff over his followers, directing their activities. "Chop, chop! Let's hop to it, everyone! There's not a second to waste."
Cater the Second, in a hat and glasses, ferries a towering cake, as fake as the rest of the production. He knows the sponge is styrofoam and the frosting is plaster and paint. Still, he handles the dessert as though it is made of gold.
Cater the Third wrestles with a horde of plastic lawn flamingos and hedgehog plushies. Cater the Fourth, on a stepladder, stringing up a banner. The Third hurries past the Fourth, his foot catching on a foot of the ladder and nearly tripping him.
Righting himself, the Third hollers, "Hey, stay out of my way! Couldn't you have picked a better spot to do your work?"
To him, the Fourth coolly replies, "Not my fault you weren't watching where you were going."
"What was that?!"
"You heard me."
"Say that again to my face, I dare you!"
"I just did."
"Guys, guys! Relax," warns the Second, placing his cake down on a table. "The last thing we need is drama on an unbirthday."
"He's right," says the First. His brows draw together, not yet a full frown but coming close to it. "Drop it and get back to your tasks."
They scramble to each other, a flock reuniting and tending to their kin.
Cater has witnessed this scene many times over. The chaos, the mini-quarrels. From a safe distance, he watches, wearing the usual stitched smile.
Always a member of the audience, never the actor.
A longing ache fills his chest.
He wonders if now is a good time to clap, to interject. Make his presence known somehow.
Cater moves to speak, but doubt arrests him.
No—they don’t need me. They don’t want me there. They’re fine on their own. You’ll only make things worse.
The whispers start.
“Something’s off.”
“Something’s wrong.”
“Something’s missing.”
Cater surveys his surroundings.
The theater is empty, save for himself. It does not silence the voices coming from all corners, their murmur easily filling the room. It’s as though there is a full house, minus the bodies.
Just as hollow as he is.
“It’s fine!" he calls out to Nobody. "I’m sure the show will get better. They know what they're doing."
"It's incomplete," the whispers insist.
"We need you, Cater."
He gasps, his attention returning to the stage. The Caters are gone, their masks and propr lying abandoned upon it.
That sounds like...
"Trey."
Him, and the others. Their dorm leader and the duo of irksome first years are frozen mid-party prep. Trey strolls past them and to the edge of their pretend world,
He crouches down and grins. "What are you doing down there?"
"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm spectating, silly."
"Spectating? That's an odd thing to do." Trey leans, offering his hand. "Come on. Heartslabyul isn't complete without you."
Cater stares. "But I… I like it here. It’s familiar.”
It’s safe.
Trey cocks his head. “But you also want to be up here, with the rest of us… don’t you?“
“You don’t get it. I—” Cater wavers. “I can’t, even if I want to. I just can’t, okay?”
Under the spotlights, they’ll see me for who I really am.
Trey watches him carefully. His golden eyes soften with understanding. "You're scared."
"Who said I was scared?" Cater attempts at a laugh. It doesn't come out quite right, petering out too quickly. "You're imagining things."
"I don't think so." He shakes his head. "This isn't you, Cater. You haven't been you for a long while now. I wish you'd be more genuine with us. With me."
"I am!"
Cater speaks louder than he means to. His exclamation hushes the others in the audience, silencing dissent.
For one long, horrible moment, he sees the sadness reaching Trey's face. The hope draining. Coldness overtakes Cater, and his mind goes to the worst places: his friend turning away, leaving.
His vision stings. He blinks, and the tears blur the world and the people in it, the stage and its actors.
His house of cards, collapsing.
It's over.
From the disparaging silence, a hushed voice rises.
"It's okay. You can be yourself," Trey says reassuringly. He's warm, like a blanket draped over his body. "Smile when you want to smile. Cry when you want to cry. Share it all with us. We'll embrace it."
A tear breaks free from Cater. The magic words, dispelling the dam holding his feelings back.
"Ah... Geez,” he mutters, wiping at his cheek. “Y-You're making me sentimental...!”
“I’d say that’s a pretty good start,” Trey chuckles. “… Hey, Cater. I think it’s about time. You’ll join us, right?”
“Hah. Of course…!”
That’s all I’ve ever wanted.
Cater rises and races to the stage. Slipping his hand in Trey's, he holds tight lets himself be hoisted up.
The ground is firm beneath his feet, the lights drying his tears. His heart drums with exhilaration—it feels so right. Like he belongs.
Up close, he should see the set falling apart. The wooden textures, the peeling paint. But it looks more real than ever, with foliage shifting in the wind and the aroma of roses perfuming the air. The stage, expanding.
Cater walks into the waiting wonderland.
"Found him!" Trey announces to the rest of the cast.
The scene resumes, the characters returning to motion.
"There you are, Cater!" Riddle cries out. "I certainly hope you weren't planning on offloading your responsibilities onto your underclassmen... again."
"Pfft!" Ace fails to contain a mocking laugh, his gaze sliding over to Deuce. "Yeah, cuz what kind of idiot would fall for something like that?"
"Sh-Shut up! You'd have wanted to help out your senpai too if you were there!!"
"No worries. I promise no more tricks this time. I'm... too tired for that."
"Cater?" Riddle takes a proper look at him, then narrows his eyes. "Have you been... crying?"
"Yeah. I think... I'll need a moment, Riddle-kun. Sorry, I'm going through a lot right now.”
It is his truth. The joy, and the levity it grants him, overwhelming.
He's finally among them.
Finally Somebody.
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vanrouchu · 7 months
Text
sparkling starlight
Inside an abandoned theatre, you find yourself drowning in a sea of stars guided by a shooting star.
— Hamel x Reader (Gender Neutral)
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It was silent. Far too silent for a room that was supposed to be full of music followed by an applause so loud that it's deafening. You were glued to your seat in the empty theater, watching nothingness take its place on the stage. The rundown theater used to be a place filled with life, hopes, and dreams from performers and the audience alike.
Now it was a desolate place devoid of life.
It was a strange sight to anyone else who might see. A single person sitting on a worn out chair in a theater that looked like it's about to break down at any given moment—what kind of person would willingly stay there and stare at an empty stage? Soon, there was a sound of footsteps approaching from behind but you didn't turn your head to look back. The sound of the accessories of their clothes hitting the floor was comforting despite the way your heartbeat quickened ever so slightly.
"What are you doing in such a lonely place?" Her voice was close. Hamel took the seat next to you, placing her hand over yours as her gaze followed yours. For a moment, you wanted to know what came across her mind when she saw the empty stage. You wanted to know if she wanted to dance for the dreams that crumbled into stardust. She was selfless like that—she gave too much and got little in return.
"I was just thinking. This used to be a popular theater where performers would fight to get a chance to perform in… It's strange to see it so empty." You sighed but the way Hamel started caressing the back of your hand with her thumb distracted you as you stumbled over your next words. "I guess– I'm not used to it."
"... Did you come here often?"
"Often might be an understatement. I came here every chance I got."
Hamel blinked curiously, tilting her head to the side. "I wasn't aware you were a big fan of theater performances."
You couldn't help but chuckle. What she said wasn't exactly right but you couldn't deny it either, so you're left with the choice to answer with an explanation. "I wouldn't say I'm a fan of all performances… I only came to see one person."
Hamel hummed, urging you to continue.
"It was the first performance I've ever seen in this very theater. I was enchanted the moment she started dancing." You held your breath, not daring to look at Hamel's expression but you can only assume she figured something out with the way her finger twitched against your hand.
"Ever since that performance, I came to this theater again and again in hopes of seeing her again." You finally let out a heavy sigh, "in the process, I saw a lot more others perform. I thought they were amazing but they weren't what I was looking for."
"Like a shooting star, she appeared briefly in my sky and left me wishing in silence."
That was when Hamel stood up from her seat. She wasn't smiling, but she wasn't frowning either; it was a blank stare followed by a voice filled with expectations. It was as if she was waiting for something—a correct answer to her question.
"Did you manage to meet her again?" She asked.
You couldn't help but stare at her from your seat, trying to search for answers in the familiar pink of her eyes. She let go of your hand and you couldn't help but notice how much colder it's gotten—how lonely it suddenly felt.
"I did. After many years, I finally got the chance to see her in this very theater again." You stood up and took her hands in yours, firmly this time. Her face slowly turned soft, the corner of her lips tugging into a small smile as she pulled her hands away from your grasp just to hold your face. It was warm—your face was warm and you didn't know if it was because of her hands or the heat that crept up your neck.
Her gaze was so gentle; you couldn't deny the love it held.
"Did I keep you waiting?"
"... I don't mind." You turned your head, placing a kiss on the palm of her hand. "I would have kept chasing after you."
"You don't have to anymore. You caught this shooting star among countless others. I hope the brilliance that captivated you does not disappear."
"Even now, you're shining so brightly in such a rundown place."
"... It's because I'm with you." It felt warmer. "Won't you dance with me on this stage?"
She asked but she was already dragging you to the stage without waiting for an answer. The floorboards were old and creaked with every step you and Hamel took but it hardly mattered in that moment.
Stuck in your own little world, she brought the stars with her and decorated the stage with its brilliance one last time as a reprise of the dance that enchanted you many years ago.
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shamrockqueen · 11 months
Text
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B-Movie
Pairing : Werewolf Bucky x reader
Warnings : Noncon, stalking, abandoned, smut, R18
Word count : 3237
AO3 Link
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You didn’t even want to leave the house tonight, let alone drag yourself all the way to the cineplex to watch a crummy B-Movie. You just didn’t want to be home all alone on a Saturday night, but being all alone at the movies didn’t seem any better.
It’s some old, cheesy horror movie that sucked more and more every second you had to watch it. The fact that you didn’t have anything better to do was the only reason you stayed this long.
The young couple on the screen cuddled up in a car as a cheap howl rang across the screen. The girl gets all flustered and goes, "Did you hear that, Brad?"
"Hear what, Janet? I’m sure it’s just a dog." The cliche football player boyfriend tried to reassure her.
"I don’t know Brad; it sounded big." She said with a scared huff.
The acting was bad to say the least, and you wanted to reach through the screen and slug one of them in the face each time they opened their mouth. You really didn’t know how much more you could take.
The couple got back to canoodling before a ‘werewolf’ that looked more like a roll of shag carpet popped up between them and they started screaming. Dark gray splatters of blood flung around the black and white screen as the creature clawed up the once-horny 18-year-olds.
You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. You understand the kitschy nature of these old movies, but this was just hard to watch.
There weren't a lot of people in the theater with you, and you were certain that there wasn’t anyone behind you when you sat down. Yet, as a warm brush of air grazed the back of your neck, you heard someone whisper in your ear. "What are you doing here all by yourself?"
You nearly choked on your popcorn, hacking and coughing just to catch a breath of air. It prompted someone from the audience to turn back towards you and shout, "Shut up."
You ignore the jackasses in the front row and whip your head around to try and find who had invaded your personal space. But, no one was behind you; in fact, the whole back half of the theater was empty.
It had to have been nothing, a prankster, or a figment of your imagination. You turned back towards the screen with a huff to watch the 'werewolf’ attack some pedestrians.
You shook your soda, feeling it was still pretty full, before taking a sip and watching the crummy rug monster lumber across the screen as people ran away from it.
You felt that breath on your skin again before you heard that deep, disembodied rumble of a man’s voice. "So unrealistic. You’d never be able to outrun me."
This time, you swung your elbow as you turned towards the voice, only to find no one yet again. You studied the darkened corners of the empty back rows for a solid second, and you swore you could almost see something. A solid mass in one of the seats at the far back with a faintly sharpened gaze pointed directly towards you.
It makes the hair on your arms stand on end as goosebumps pricked at your skin and your body turns stiff. All the while, you stared down what you hoped to be an imaginary figure before turning back to the screen to see the crappy werewolf being shot at by an angry mob.
You couldn’t pay attention to it anymore, nor to the thought of something lurking behind you in an almost empty theater. When you noticed a group of people near the front step away from their seats and grumbling about the movie, you took this as an opportunity to slip out of the theater hidden within a small group.
You grab your stuff and just leave, glancing back for almost a second. There wasn’t anything back there this time, but you weren’t taking any more chances.
You toss your popcorn in a nearby bin as you exit the theater, hiding behind the group of strangers as they all walk off towards their own cars.
You have to scuttle away in the opposite direction, where the parking had been free. It wasn’t too bad of a walk while the sun was still up, but now with the moon high in the sky and a chill already running down your spine, it was an unnerving trek just so you could go home.
You shook the soda cup you still held onto, listening to the ice sloshing inside to gauge how much coke you had left to drink. It was a good amount, and you sipped at it from the straw as you hoofed it all the way back to your car.
You sucked down your coke until you heard the telltale sputtering noise that signified that the cup was finally empty. You gave it another light shake, only to hear the ice knocking around inside before taking a final water sip.
You stopped walking, but only for a second, so you could find a public trash can to dump your cup. But, as your sneakers stopped hitting the pavement, you heard the continuation and abrupt stop of someone else’s footsteps. You stand still for a second before slowly twisting your back to peek over your shoulder to see what might have been behind you.
Nothing.
The only thing to grace your vision was the dark and empty street of your small town; an image you’d seen many times before seemed so ominous as of now. You pull your eyes away from the street behind you before spotting a trash can by the door of the next storefront.
You take a few careful steps closer to the can until it’s within range to toss your cup. The cup hits the edge of the opening before ricocheting right into the trash. A lucky shot, and after the cup's clunky descent, the streets are eerily quiet again.
You had to stop yourself from letting your heart beat out of control as you searched the shadows for any other mysterious figures like those you’d seen at the back of the theater. Alone on a Saturday night, you're so scared that you could have pissed yourself, and it turned out to be nothing. You recall the shitty movie and laugh at yourself for letting something so poorly made affect your nerves like this.
You pick your feet up and start walking again, eager only to get home. That's when you hear the footsteps far behind you more clearly, like a soft weight hitting the concrete some distance away. You have to ignore it, for your own sanity at least, but you pick up your pace without another thought. You don’t want to turn back only to see nothing or have your eyes trick you like they did before.
The heavy thumps of something far behind grew closer and faster to the point that it could no longer be ignored, no matter how badly you wanted to pretend it was just the simple sounds of a small town after dark.
But, it wasn’t. Hard pads were hitting the sidewalk, drawing far too close for your nerves to withstand.
You let yourself steal a glance over your shoulder as you walked a little faster. The black mass of dark hair and teeth a few yards away nearly made your heart stop. You don’t take note of too many more details, opting instead to break out into an immediate sprint. Your body is given no time to adjust, making it hell on your knees as your little legs propel you towards the old parking lot where you left your car.
The mass sped up, but only to match your pace, letting your little rabbit heart tire out until you became easy prey.
You try to make some unprompted turns and twists in a fruitless attempt to lose sight of that creature, but even as you lose sight of it, you can still hear its heavy steps not far behind. Your hopes were dashed even further once the tip of your shoe caught the lip of a pothole, tripping you, so you went skidding onto the pavement, tearing the fabric of your jeans just a little on your knees.
You only lay there and hissed at the sharp new pain, and your blood pressure pounded in your ears almost as loudly as the padding of the monster's feet as it drew nearer and nearer. It finally rounded the corner of the alley more slowly, almost as if to play with your fear all the more before finally leaping upon you. In this short moment before the tears could cloud your vision, its full form came into greater detail. Claws clacking on the cracked, stony pavement of the alleyway.
Thick fur coated its whole body, darkening it aside from a dangling pair of metal dog tags and torn denim jeans barely holding together around its solid legs. It leapt over you to land at your feet before planting his solid clawed hands on either side of your head.
Its muzzle is short, its skin is oddly gray, and although the hair is thick, the hard muscles of his arms and torso are felt immediately as it pins you down with its weight alone. Long, sharp nails tear into your shirt and jeans, but be more careful of your skin and only scratch the surface instead of digging into your flesh.
You scream into the night, your voice bouncing off broken brick and rusted metal with no one to hear it. All as you're rendered completely vulnerable to a creature that surpasses imaginable horror after your clothes are torn into strips of fabric.
An inhuman voice seemed to rumble from somewhere deep in his chest, almost like the animal was calling to you while it hovered above. Then its neck and joints started to crack and twitch, with ribs breaking in on themselves and muscles contracting as the mounds of hair shrank back along its skin. The sounds of pain that rang from its open maw nearly drowned out once-echoed screams as the beast mutated while it still caged you under its disgustingly shifting body.
It does give you mere seconds to try and wiggle away. You try to kick at the pavement with your feet with very little success, as his muzzle seems to shrink back into itself. Its face is leaning in as the pointed ears pull back into its head and a more human face comes into view.
It’s clearer to see that his hair is shaggy and hangs by his neck, and with minimal facial hair compared to the beast you had once been looking at. His chest was now bare, save for a little peppering of normal chest hair running from the top of his chest to a thin line at his navel.
Nothing covered him besides a worn-out and torn-up old pair of jeans that had already started to fall from his waist to showcase the deep V of muscle near his groin.
Once the rest of his beastly form melted from his body, he stared directly at you, and you froze.
The fight is drained from your body as the blue of his eyes swims around yours. It leaves your head dizzy and your body stiff and unmoving, as his still-rough treatment carried an odd gentleness to it. Like he knew he would cut right into your skin but didn’t want to.
"You know I saw you, all alone in there." This time the words were coming right from his lips, not deeply distorted from some faraway place, and they bore an eerie resemblance to the hushed voice that spoke to you in the theater.
The monster that lumbered around in that movie was no more than a sheepdog compared to what this man had been. You regretted coming out to see that movie, more so now than ever.
"You seemed so delicate, so..so shy." Something hard pressed against your tightly shut legs, almost thick enough to pry them apart. The realization of what had been pressing against you and had slipped out of his jeans to part his legs for him.
He was sizing his cock against your bare core as his hard arms crowded your head and his teeth dragged along your shoulder.
"We don’t have to be alone anymore." He gritted his teeth as he forced his cock through your tight channel. A very unexpected turn of events sent a strange shock along your spine. You try to move against him, barely succeeding in moving your arms or thrashing your head. Each time you tried, that cold stare would pierce through you like sharp ice, making the blood in your veins freeze up as you were torn around his thick, invasive member.
You nearly bite your tongue as tears come right through until the tip of his cock is forced against the deepest part of you, and you can only turn your head to cry into the pavement.
"I wanna make a monster out of you. Then we can be like that together."
His dirty nails dig into the skin of your neck as he twists your face away from the asphalt as he presses his tight abs against your belly, bumping his cock against that deep, deep part of your cunt again.
The pain was twisting into something horrible inside of you. Like a hot bolt of energy burning in your lower belly, making the rest of your body feel so terribly cold that your fingers were almost numb.
He has you keening, howling, wailing, and screaming louder than you ever had before. You’re torn to pieces as he ties you back together on his cock in a big, tight knot.
He laps at your trembling and whimpering lips before applying pressure to your jaw to pop your mouth open and sliding his thick tongue along yours.
"You’ll be my fucking monster," is growled into your ear as the blood starts to rush to your head while he pumps himself inside of you.
His teeth, several of which were still sharp, pressed harder into the flesh of your neck and shoulder, making you keen and wail against his skin as it suffocated you.
You didn’t feel him tearing into your body; you didn’t feel the hot blood streaming from your throat. All you felt was the snapping of a tight knot that had formed in your core. It tore to shreds, exploding into your veins as he forced a thicker, harder, swollen part of himself into you. It locked you to him as you gushed around his solid member, and he seemed to fill you so full that your stomach swelled a small fraction.
The world around him blurs as his warm hand comes up to cup your face, all before the blackness at the edge of your vision caves in around you, taking with it your consciousness.
Your dreams were empty; hours would go by and your mind would be blank, and you would be almost dead to the world.
The sunlight cutting through the dirty glass of your windshield was what woke you. It took a moment to take hold and shake you from your sleep as it assaulted your eyes. You tried to turn your head only to be shocked by a painful, deep burning in the side of your neck, accompanied by a heavy ache in all of your limbs. You tried to roll yourself out of this uncomfortable sleeping situation with a labored groan as you finally graced the afternoon sun.
You don’t remember having found your car or getting into it to sleep in the backseat. You don’t pay any mind to it, and you don’t pay any kind of attention to a lot of things. Namely, the terrible state of your clothing that was torn so badly that you were practically half naked, nor the massive scabbing gas on the side of your neck and shoulder that bore a horrible resemblance to teeth marks.
You pressed your elbow onto the side of the driver's seat with your other hand digging its nails into the side of the front passenger's seat, all just to drag your heavy, aching body from the back of the car. Somehow your keys were just sitting in your lap, totally unnoticed, and had clunked to the floor as you pulled yourself up.
Your head nearly hit the center console as you let go of the passenger seat to reach those damn keys.
Once they were finally in your grasp, you pulled yourself back up to crawl over the console and into the driver's seat.
You had to catch your breath as the pain in your body vibrated along all of your bones to ache at your joints. You slowly brought the key up to the lock, fumbling a little before getting it in the ignition. You turn the key and let the engine roar to life, finally giving you a new lifeline to get home.
You drove off dazed, weak, and uncomfortable. You were just barely able to drive at all, but you weren’t staying in that parking lot any longer than you had to. Home was the only place you cared to be, injury or no injury. Yet, in the very pit of your stomach, something stirred. It grew more and more during the entire ride home. You nearly ran the car into the garage door, as it was all you could focus on.
You are so fucking hungry!
You feel it from your stomach all the way up your throat. You ran from the car as soon as the engine was off, not paying any mind to how your neighbors would react to your current physical appearance. The car door is left open, and the front door is still ajar after you broke through it when the key didn’t quite go into the lock. But, somehow you got the little piece of metal to align to gain entry to your own home before bolting inside and running directly towards the fridge.
The fridge door is yanked open, and you're digging through everything you can find to bring it to your nose for a quick scent before tossing it.
You’d tossed away tubs of yogurt, lunch meat, and juices behind you, as none suited your new bizarre taste. Nothing seemed to meet your craving until you grabbed a pack of steaks from the middle rung of the fridge. You’d left it in the fridge to thaw for dinner the following day, but as you brought it towards you and took in its red, bloody smell, it was all your senses could respond to.
You tore open the packet and tore right into the meat with your teeth, reveling in the taste of the raw steak and the feel of it on your tongue.
You don’t think anything of this; your mind is just switched off to everything at this point. You don’t even hear the subtle knock of your car door being closed or the louder click of your front door following suit.
The once menacing footsteps that echoed down the street to your demise now went unheard as they padded through your home to find you tearing through your food on the kitchen floor.
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This took heavy inspiration from the werewolf transformation scene in Underworld as well as one of the first episodes of Santa Clarita diet.
188 notes · View notes
Text
of our own making
(an X-Files fanfic)
Chapter 14/34 - styrofoam gravestones
[Read on AO3]
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Skinner gleefully calls their joint adventure to Los Angeles a “honeymoon,” though Scully is sure no one else would consider the movie they'd just been subjected to a worthy use of their time if it had been.
‘Worse than anticipated’ might come close to describing it, actually. 
The trip itself is fine. The insinuation that this is their honeymoon (from their boss, no less) causes them to blush. Skinner knows he's making it weird, which is probably why he keeps teasing them about it every time he sees them. Thankfully, despite the awkward hazing, their boss sets them up with separate rooms.
And apparently has given them free reign of the Bureau credit card for the evening. 
The piece of plastic is burning a hole in her pocket as Scully goes out in search of her partner following the premiere. The studio lot looks much the same as it had when they'd visited before, over a year ago. Even some of the sets are still up, probably from last minute reshoots, and it's here that she finds Mulder, seated amongst the styrofoam gravestones and fake grass.
He'd taken the movie harder than she had, she thinks. After all, it's his life's work they're making a mockery of, not really hers. She's much more bothered by the bizarre love triangle the filmmakers somehow worked in, wondering how on earth they'd come to that conclusion in their short time together.
Mulder had disappeared after a particularly ridiculous scene taking place in a coffin, abandoning her to a sheepish-looking Skinner, who handed over the credit card without a word as soon as the credits rolled.
But now she sees him, and he's not moping like she'd expected after seeing him walk out of the theater in a huff.
Instead, he's staring straight ahead, frozen like one of the statues in the middle of the fake cemetery, seemingly lost in thought.
“Been looking all over for you,” she says, taking a seat beside him on the artificial hill.
“Yeah. Sorry I left. I couldn't take it anymore,” he answers, his blank stare never wavering. 
“That's saying a lot, coming from you,” she jokes, nudging against him with her shoulder. “I'm pretty sure your tolerance for bad sci-fi movies is higher than most.”
He doesn't respond, and it's then that she notices his open cell phone laying in his hand.
“You okay?” she asks. 
He looks down at his own hand as if seeing it for the first time, and snaps the device shut.
“I, uh—” he starts, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “While I was out here, I got a call.”
A knot of anxiety twists in her stomach. That call could be from any number of people, and she can’t tell from his expression what it might have been about. He's shaken, that much is clear.
She suddenly wishes she hadn't eaten a full bowl of popcorn in the theater.
“They tried calling you first,” he continues. “But your phone was on silent during the movie.”
Her eyebrows furrow and she hurries to dig her cell phone out of her purse, checking the display.
2 missed calls.
“Mulder, who—”
“The adoption agency,” he says, cutting her off, and it feels like the floor drops out from beneath her.
She's breathing, but it doesn't feel like she's getting any air. It's impossible to tell if it's good news or bad news yet, but her voice has suddenly stopped working and she can't bring herself to ask.
His hand finds hers, grasping on tightly.
“They approved our application, pending a home visit,” he says, a disbelieving smile beginning to form on his lips.
“They did?” she asks breathlessly, and he nods.
“And there's more.”
What more could there possibly be? She feels like crying, but she doesn't know if she can. The whirlwind of emotions is overwhelming.
“They found someone,” he says. “A possible match.”
That does it. A watery smile pulls at her cheeks, and she can hardly believe it, except she trusts this man with her entire being and he would never lie to her.
“That quick?” she asks.
He nods again. “They said they know it's fast, but the plans for the last placement fell through and they need someone who can be ready in the next four months or so.”
“Four months?”
“A young woman, already five months pregnant.”
She can't help it, she leans forward and wraps him in a crushing hug, throwing her arms over his shoulders and holding on. He holds her just as tight, and she feels his beaming smile in the crook of her neck, matching her own.
“Why didn't you come get me?” she gasps into his ear, absolutely certain she's never been this happy in her entire life.
“I wanted to,” he says, amusement lacing his voice. “My legs stopped working as soon as I heard the words ‘application’ and ‘approved’ and I had to sit down.”
This draws a laugh from deep in her chest, and she pulls him even tighter, cupping her hand over the back of his head and running her fingers through his hair.
When she finally pulls back, she sees his eyes filled with tears of joy, and she knows her own look the same.
“Really?” she asks, needing to clarify. Wanting to hear him say it again. And then maybe again later.
“Yeah, Scully,” he says, gripping her hands in his own. “Really.”
Suddenly, the movie doesn't seem so bad anymore. Who cares, it'll tank anyway. They have better things to worry about.
They're going out to celebrate, and Skinner can pick up the tab. It may not be their honeymoon, but it's a celebration of their relationship nonetheless, a culmination of their time as partners and the beginning of their journey toward becoming parents.
She stands determinedly, pulling Mulder to his feet and interlocking her arm with his, grinning up at him giddily.
“Let's go,” she says, flashing the credit card proudly.
He gladly takes it from her, laughing freely as they begin to stumble out of the graveyard arm in arm.
“Scully,” he says, tossing his cheap plastic Lazarus Bowl behind him as they walk. “Promise me you're not in love with Associate Producer Walter Skinner?”
-.-.-
It's just a week later when a knock on Scully's apartment door signals the arrival of the representative from the adoption agency for the home visit. They'd spent the week frantically getting things in order in their limited time after work, finally integrating the items brought over from Mulder's apartment with her own. Mulder had even gotten one of the pictures from their courthouse wedding framed, and it held a place of honor on top of the fireplace mantle in the living room.
Every time she passes it, she feels her heart skip a beat. There are precious few pictures of the two of them together, and that one is the most special of them all. It makes her feel like she has that “normal” life she'd asked him about, once—though of course there is nothing normal about this arrangement they have. 
“Mulder, she's here. Is everything ready?” she says, feeling slightly queasy.
“Ready, Scully,” he answers, and she shoots him a look.
They'd talked about this at length already, so he should know better. “You can’t call me that, remember?”
He tilts his head downward challengingly, the exaggerated eye contact sending a shiver up her spine, and she knows what's coming before the word leaves his mouth.
“Dana,” he breathes in a low rasp, smirking at her visible reaction to how odd it still feels to hear her given name spoken aloud outside of the most dire circumstances.
Oh boy.
“What exactly will you be calling me? Fox?” he asks next, moving to adjust one of the chairs at the kitchen table.
“I seriously don’t think I can,” she answers. “I’ll think of something, but if I have to, I suppose I will.”
“You know, you’re the only person who’s ever listened to me and not called me Fox, I think,” he comments, his eyes tracking her as she approaches the door. “Other than maybe the Gunmen.”
“And now it just sounds completely wrong coming out of my mouth, so I won’t be doing it anytime soon if I can help it,” she says in a clipped tone, knowing the caseworker is waiting right on the other side of the wall.
“I appreciate that.”
She rolls her eyes, which only makes his smile brighten. “Shut up and get over here,” she says, jerking her head toward the doorway. 
He readily obeys, sliding into place beside her with his arm over her shoulders before she opens the door to the woman on the other side.
“Ms. Koske, hi! Come on in,” Scully says, far more cheerily than her usual affect. 
Mulder catches her eyes, and they flash in warning. Cool it down, they say. Be yourself. She'll do her best to take his advice, but it's hard. This is a key moment in their already fraught path to parenthood. She doesn't want to mess it all up with one small mistake. Not after they've come this far.
“Good to see you, Ms. Scully,” Ms. Koske greets her with a smile and a nod as she enters. “Mr. Mulder.”
“Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Water?” She needs something to do with her hands, so she shoves them in her pockets, hoping the answer will be yes so she can distract herself from her nerves.
“I’m alright, but thank you,” Brenda says politely. “Maybe after you’ve shown me around a little?”
Thankfully, Mulder takes the reins after that, probably sensing her unease. 
“Of course, right this way, Ms. Koske,” he says, separating himself from her side—a loss which she feels acutely. He leads the woman further into the apartment, winking at Scully behind her back as he goes.
Scully takes a deep breath, collecting herself. She's not sure why she's so nervous. She and Mulder have read every piece of adoption planning literature they could get their hands on, and quadruple checked that they had everything right before today. Still, she'll always be the one to worry that they missed something.
Thankfully, Mulder keeps cool under pressure. At least in situations like this.
“Any pets?” Brenda is asking him by the time Scully catches up to them in the hallway. She can see that the woman already has a half a page full of notes on her clipboard, not that she can make out any of it.
“Just my fish,” Mulder answers easily. “Although, Sc– Dana had a dog a few years ago.”
Scully clears her throat, deciding now is the time to jump in and be an active participant in this visit.
“Maybe we could get another one after we move to a bigger house, hmm?” she asks. Mulder’s unamused expression is exactly what she was hoping for, but he quickly schools it before Ms. Koske can see. 
She's partially teasing about getting a dog—payback for him blindsiding her with the ‘new house’ idea at their previous interview. But it might be nice, someday. 
Besides, he can’t exactly say no right now, can he?
She grins.
“Whatever you want, my love,” he responds, his overly saccharine smile telling her, ‘two can play that game.’
“How long have you been keeping fish, Mr. Mulder?” Brenda asks, oblivious to the subtle unspoken conversation happening right over her head. She stoops to look at the mollies with interest, tilting her head in response to the U.F.O. themed decor.
“Oh, uh, probably over a decade now,” Mulder answers, turning his attention back to their guest and his gleaming fish tank, in its prized new location.
Brenda raises her eyebrows, scratching something on her clipboard. 
“Impressive. They’re more work to take care of than most people think,” she speaks, and Scully hopes that translates to ‘If you can keep a fish alive, you can definitely handle a human child,’ even if the logic there isn't exactly sound.
Off the hallway, next Mulder shows her to the bathroom, which had been meticulously cleaned the day before. Scully doesn't know how someone could make such a mess with toothpaste, but Mulder’s tooth brushing quirks like squeezing the toothpaste tube wrong have been a constant pain in her neck since he started sleeping over. At least that's the worst of her worries. Otherwise, he's been a very agreeable living partner, even putting his shoes away instead of leaving them out after the time she almost tripped on them with an armful of groceries.
Brenda peeks inside cabinets and checks the bathtub, annotating as she goes on her clipboard.
“Are your medicines kept secure and in a child-safe place?” she asks, looking to Scully.
“Yes, I was a doctor before I left to join the FBI,” she answers readily. “I can assure you that I know all the dangers and keep them stored safely.”
Brenda nods, seemingly impressed. 
“A doctor,” she says. “Do you have any experience with children’s medicine?”
Scully shakes her head. “Just a rotation in med school,” she answers honestly. She knows realistically that this won't impact her chances of adopting, but still she wishes she had a better answer. “I, uh… went in a different direction.”
The woman smiles. “Not a problem, I was just curious. It’s good to hear that you have a background in medicine, that will certainly help.” Scully lets out a sigh of relief as Brenda scrawls something down, then turns her attention to her partner. “Mr. Mulder, what did you do before the FBI?”
The question catches Mulder off guard, and he rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Oh, I– I got recruited not long after I completed my degree in psychology.”
“Did you ever practice?” Brenda asks.
“No, I didn’t.”
“But, I’m sure you have a general understanding of children’s psychology from your studies, yes?”
Scully looks to Mulder, curious about his answer herself.
“I do, yeah,” he says. “But, actually, most of my knowledge in that… area… comes from personal experience.”
The caseworker nods in understanding. “I hope you don’t mind my asking… I know this is a little less formal than our last interview, but I’d still like to be thorough.” The implication that he should expound on his answer is clear.
“No, I understand,” he says, nodding. “Uh, when I was twelve, my little sister disappeared. She was never found, and it… tore my family apart. I spent most of my adolescence bouncing between therapists until I went off to college in England.”
Brenda gives a sad shake of her head and makes a note.
“You two have quite a history,” she says, unmistakable traces of pity in her voice. “I can see why you were drawn to each other, and why you’re looking to start a family.”
Scully catches Mulder’s eye, and they share a look. This woman doesn't know the half of it, but she's right. Their bond is rooted deeper than most, deeper even than the average married couple.
All they want now is to move forward with their lives. To have a spot of sunshine after years of darkness and suffering. Somehow, that desire turned into the dream of starting a family, and it's hard to believe how far they've come in a few short months.
“I think I’ve seen enough in here,” Ms. Koske says, breaking the sullen silence that had fallen. “Would you mind showing me your room?”
“Of course,” Scully says, smiling a forced smile as she leads the way. “Our room.”
Because it is their room, as far as Brenda needs to be concerned. She doesn’t need to know that Mulder actually sleeps on the bed that’s in the spare bedroom, now that it’s been moved from his apartment. All it took was moving a few more of his personal belongings into Scully’s room and making his room look like a guest room, and their little white lie was perfected.
“Looks like you’ve got a good variety of reading material, here,” Brenda says, eyes trailing over the bookshelf. “Medical journals, Moby Dick … The Truth About Extraterrestrial Life Forms. That one’s… unique.”
“My husband is a big fan of science fiction,” Scully says, the explanation coming easily to her. She even managed to use the word “husband” without stuttering over it, for once. Easier than saying “Fox,” in all honesty.
When she looks up at said husband, though, he's suppressing an amused smile, and she shakes her head, her cheeks undoubtedly flushing pink.
Brenda nods at her answer, smiling warmly as she stands back up to her full height. “Yes, I can see that. You’ll have to make some space for children’s literature. They’re classics, but I love to recommend Dr. Seuss.”
Scully’s heart twists, and Mulder’s eyebrows raise almost imperceptibly, a meaningful look passing between them in the span of a second.
She doesn't want to get her hopes up yet, but…
“I’ll buy a whole other bookshelf, if I have to,” Mulder says eagerly, chuckling softly, and Scully feels herself fall even deeper in love with him.
Brenda pats him on the arm, an approving smile stretching her cheeks. 
“Now, that’s what I like to hear.”
-.-.-
The rest of the tour goes smoothly, and Brenda takes Scully up on her offer for tea prior to her departure.
The conversation topics are decidedly lighter as they sip on the warm drinks. Mulder regales her with tales of growing up on Martha's Vineyard, keeping things in the safer territory of beach days and riding bikes, rather than touching on his home life. 
Before long, their cups are empty and they get to their feet, moving slowly toward the apartment door.
“Well, everything looks good here,” Brenda says, tucking her clipboard into her bag. “Clean, not too small, good neighborhood, healthy food. Shouldn’t be too difficult to childproof, for however long you plan to stay here. And, your experience in medicine and psychology should certainly work in your favor.” 
Scully reaches a hand out and finds Mulder's, and he must have been searching for hers too, because he's right there, clasping her palm in his. 
“I have no qualms recommending you to our birth mother,” Brenda declares with a beaming smile. “I’m sure we’ll be able to set up a meeting with her soon.”
She grabs Scully’s hand for a cordial handshake, then shakes Mulder's, and all the while Scully can scarcely move or breathe. Had she heard that correctly? They were really going to get a shot at this?
For the first time, she lets herself envision them with a child. Baby toys scattered on the living room carpet. Mushy baby food lining the shelves of her pantry. Mulder as a father, ever the involved parent like he says he wants to be.
That was something she hadn't ever truly allowed herself to imagine. Not even when embryos bearing his DNA had been implanted into her womb, while he waited supportively in the waiting area.
For the first time, it's real, and she can barely hold herself together.
Mulder thanks the woman for them both, smiling broadly as he opens the door for her, but Scully can't hear them over the sound of her heart racing. She manages to mumble a thank you and goodbye before the apartment door closes, unable to muster anything more substantial than that.
And the moment they're alone, tears erupt from her eyes, hot and wet on her cheeks.
Mulder doesn't waste a second pulling her into his arms, holding her tight to his chest. She feels herself being lifted a few inches off the ground, and he buries his face in her shoulder, grasping her securely around the waist. 
She can't speak, can't do anything but cry into his shoulder and picture their life together. Beyond the X-Files, beyond alien abductions and missing sisters. Finally, finally beyond manipulative ex-girlfriends and smoky shadow governments, who now lie in dirt and ashes.
There's a life for them, beyond, and she wants it now more than she ever thought she would.
“One step closer,” Mulder whispers into her neck, his voice choked with emotion.
She can only nod and hold him tighter in response.
~~~
Note: Apparently Hollywood A.D. takes place in January 2000?? I'm going with it.
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