#slight ''remake'' of my old ones of these

[lumieron]

glitchy rui icons, credit to use!

[sincerelybubbles]

hotch x shy!bau!reader <3 fem content: slight age gap implied. reader is new to the team and more on the introverted side! not proof read, as is my hubris.

Tired, nerves buzzing from a night spent up and chasing sleep that was not welcoming, you throw your bag down on your desk and go off in hunt of coffee. You usually try to curb your caffeine intake, especially with the travel associated with your new job, but this morning is a happy exception to your new rule.

"Here," Emily says, watching you scan the cabinets of the kitchen. You hadn't heard her walk in, but she's offering you a mug with a sympathetic smile. "Long night?"

"Yes," you say, tone thankful, and spin to figure out the coffee machine.

"Three weeks and i haven't seen you use that once," she comments, sipping from her own warm mug and watching you settle the filter in place.

"I've stayed away. it's harder to sleep when I get back because of the jet lag, anyway, don't need to add coffee at all odd hours to the list, too."

It's the most you've said in casual conversation like this. To say you've been shy with your new team would be an understatement. You're good at your job, you were pulled from the academy early to do this for a reason. You fit well into the team, generally. You like listening to Spencer ramble, especially on the longer flights. Rossi's dry humor reminds you of one of your old professors you grew up admiring. JJ is a constant breath of fresh air, Morgan's consistent strength has built up your own moral. Garcia took no getting used to, lifting you up and settling into your life easily. Hotch is intimidating but kind under the colder-tones, long glances sometimes distracting but oterhwise comforting. Emily is easily one of your favorites on the team, friendly and whip-smart. But, at the core of it, you're shy. Painfully so, even.

The team caught onto this quick, settling into the truth that your observational nature that makes you so adept at noticing the smaller details is bound to weep into your social life as well. So, despite your comfort levels rising with the team, you find these situations hard. Do you explain your nightmares to Emily? Share that you're a diagnosed insomniac who spent the night watching FRIENDS reruns after chasing sleep that pranced beyond reach?

"You're better than me, then," Emily says, smiling over her mug. Her eyes tell you she's pleased at the little crack into your life that you've let her see. They're all like that: insufferably kind and polite with your introverted nature but greedily sipping up everything they can learn about you.

"It's a new development," you admit, clicking start on the machine and settling back against the counter facing her. Something about your sleepiness makes it easier to talk, your tongue looser, your ache to let loose around the team more profound. "I'm sure most of us are insomniacs, though."

"Not me," Emily says, chuckling. "I get home and feel like I don't wake up until I get back here."

"Ah, well, I'm sure it can feel like a curse no matter what way you fall," you say with a shrug. Emily lifts her coffee in cheers to that.

"Morning," Morgan says, turning into the kitchen and giving you a surprised smile. "Hello, sunshine, you're looking bright eyed today."

You let out a small laugh, shaking your head. "I know, I know."

Emily points with her chin at you, "She's making the coffee this morning."

"Ah-ah, remaking it because you and pretty boy always get here first and finish the first pot." Morgan teases her with a slight shake of his head, grinning and opening the fridge to pull out the creamer.

"Well, you snooze you loose. Or," she sends you a smile, complete with a little nose wrinkle and a tilt of her head, "you don't snooze and still loose."

"Clever," you say, voice dry with humor, hiding your laugh by turning around as the pot finished brewing. "I'll remember this later."

"Careful, she's got teeth," Morgan warns Emily, reaching around you to grab the coffee before you can and filling his cup.

"Hey!" You call in protest, voice raising louder than usual and a pout hitting your lips. Morgan laughs, white teeth on display, eyes crinkled at the corners.

"Here, here," he says, placating, tipping the pitcher to fill your cup as well. "Any sugar or cream to placate the beast?"

Before you can answer, a laugh on the tip o your tongue, Hotch walks in and settles his watchful eyes on you, interest sparking them. You shrink, not in fear but in self-awareness, and send him a closed lip smile. Stepping away from Morgan, you turn quickly to fix your own coffee.

"Good morning," Hotch says, nodding at Emily and Morgan, answering Emily's question about Jack's recent sickness (he's recovering well, thank you) and trying to catch your eye.

You duck away, cowardly and regressing back into your shell, deciding it's time to get to work and stop indulging. You catch Morgan tease Hotch as you leave, though, "Aw, you've scared her off."

You try not to think about it as you duck away, pushing all thoughts of your boss away.

You're unsuccessful.

The problem isn't that you're afraid of him because you think he's mean or unkind in any way. He's done his best to welcome you to the team, allowing you to take investigations in your own direction and listening to your insights since day one. There was a brief moment in your first week where you felt tested, like his questions weren't to gain your insight but to see if you were up to the task, but you slipped past that easily. you have the credentials to back yourself up. you're quiet, yeah, but you're always right on track to where you need to be. pulled early from academy to jump into investigating was hard but it made this easy. a few years of experience under your belt and the job feels natural and, even with the shift in teams to join the big guns in Quantico, you feel like you're exactly where you're meant to be.

No, embarrassingly, this has nothing to do with you not liking your boss or being afraid of him. Rather, he makes you too comfortable. He ducks his head to hear you speak as you walk and talk, settling deep eyes on your face. He's sturdy, dependable, and exactly everything you're all too interested in.

You hate it, harboring a school crush on your boss like you're a teen pining over your teacher. You know it's normal, you know it's perfectly reasonable and there's absolutely nothing wrong with being attracted to him, but you still slink away from him more than the others because of that attraction.

Because it's more than physical.

He listens when you talk. Granted, so do the rest of the team - they're profilers, of course they catalogue everything everyone is saying for future reference. But, beyond that, you catch him paying attention. He complimented your new blouse earlier in the week and it caused air to catch in your throat, suffocating you. It looked new, bright white and without wrinkles, but you knew he must have been looking, noticing, to remember you not wearing it before. He's kind, remembering details about you and the team and using them to aid in everyone's comfort. He knows Spencer can't handle dairy and you've heard him reminding an intern to stock the dairy-free alternatives for creamer in the jet. He brought you a neck pillow on your second flight because you didn't have one.

That gift you accepted with stuttering thank-you's and a flushed face. It hadn't flared this crush, but it definitely aided in your ability to accept it when you finally got around to no longer avoiding how he made you feel with every kind smile and gentle good morning.

You settle down at your desk, putting your steaming mug on a pile of paperwork you really need to sort through, and try to physically push the thoughts out of your head by ranking your hands through your hair, lifting it from your forehead and squeezing your eyes shut. Today isn't the day. You're too tired, sure that the team will be flying out today, and really need to be on your A-Game.

"Everything okay?" A calm voice asks from your elbow. When you look up, you decide the universe hates you. Hotch is leaning on the desk adjacent to yours, holding his own travel cup full of fresh coffee, chin tilted down to check on you. His gaze is kind, light on your face, and his eyebrows are lifted slightly. You get the feeling that he's doing everything in his power to present himself as less imposing.

"Yes, of course," you answer automatically, heart thudding in your throat.

"You know, you shouldn't lie to profilers," he says, tone teasing, voice still low. "If you're tired, it's okay to admit it to me, too."

You're about to brush him off when something in your brain freezes before clicking into place.

He's looking at you, pleading, expression open. He's usually guarded, professional. Caring, but with a guard up. Rare are these moments of genuine asking, especially rarer so are the moment of pleading hidden behind a mask of gentle humor. You think, briefly, about how it must seem to him. He heard you, Emily, and Morgan joking in the kitchen. You haven't been here long, you're shy, but slowly thawing to everyone but him. He doesn't know your reasons, he couldn't, you've made a genuine effort to hide them, and you force yourself to see it from his perspective.

"Sorry," you say, softly, slowly. "I didn't sleep well. First nightmares and then insomnia. Hence," you gesture toward your mug. You shrug, heart beating out of your chest, eyes searching his. Nice, be nice, be open and kind and yourself. "At least I have FRIENDS reruns to keep me company."

You see something relax in him at your gentle offering of the information. He sends you a not-quite-smile, nodding once and pushing himself off of the desk he was lightly leaning against.

"Take a few minutes, I'm sure JJ will call us in soon." He scans your face for a moment before looking down at your desk. He reaches forward, slowly but with purpose, and lifts a file that has been nagging you for days. The new computer system is hard to get used to and the paperwork load is heavier than you've experienced before. "I can help you with this to ease some of your load, too."

He's walking away before you can protest, tucking the file under his arm and ducking into his office. He moves swiftly, leaving no room for argument, and you're left at your desk, mouth agape and heart in your mouth.

"Wow," Spencer says, jolting you in your chair to spin around and face him. His desk is near yours, across a walkway, and you hadn't registered him sitting there. You think he was nose-deep in a book when you walked in but you hadn't been paying attention. "I don't think I've seen him warm up to someone that fast," Spencer admits, leaning back in his seat and giving you a confused look, eyebrows lowered. "Actually, he's never offered to help me do my paperwork. Ever."

"That's because you read far too fast for it to actually help you," you offer, mind racing, words hollow as your thoughts are elsewhere.

Eyes trained on the windows of Hotch's office, you take his advice and relax for the few minutes before JJ comes to gather you all in the conference room. Coffee on your lips, you let yourself smile behind the rim of your mug. You can't imagine how you could think of anything other than that, really.

[happy74827]

Something Wholesome

[Logan Howlett & Teen!Fem!Reader]

Synopsis: In which you can’t help but feel the need to comfort the big grumpy ape.

WC: 2054

Category: Comfort, Slight Fluff, Reader is Vanessa’s Younger Sister, 4th Wall Breaks {TW: Wade Being… Well, Himself.}

Even being the worst Wolverine, I believe he still is 100% a girl dad, and I stand by that statement.

『••✎••』

"I thought you quit?"

Your voice startled him. He jumped and almost dropped the cigar he was holding between his teeth. Logan's eyes fell upon you, standing in the kitchen doorway with your arms folded.

"Jesus, kid. You're gonna give me a heart attack." He shook his head, taking the cigar out of his mouth and holding it between his fingers. It was still unlit. "How'd you get in here, anyway?"

You held up a ring of keys and shook it in the air, the jingling of metal echoing around the room. "It’s called having a brother-in-law who can pick locks." You tossed the keys on the counter and sat down across from him, resting your head in your hands. "Are you having another midlife crisis, Warrior Cat?"

"You're a brat, y’know that?" He rolled his eyes, taking the cigar and tossing it back into his jacket pocket. He ran a hand over his face, sighing.

You watched him closely. The bags under his eyes, the wrinkles, the slight hunch to his shoulders. He looked old… and not the usual, rugged, cool old. You frowned, leaning across the counter.

"You know, with Wade always around, I haven't had much time to check up on my favorite Canadian." You tilted your head to the side.

"Don't let Canuck hear you say that," he snorted. You stuck your tongue out at him, and he rolled his eyes. You could see the corners of his mouth twitching.

"Seriously, Slim Jim," The joke earned a slight scowl from him. You grinned, knowing it annoyed him when you called him that. "You look your age today. What's wrong?"

Logan stared at you, and you could almost see the gears turning in his head. He was probably wondering how much to tell you. If anything, at all.

You were used to it by now. His reluctance to talk about what was bothering him, his unwillingness to rely on anyone. It was his default, and you understood that, but after three months of sharing an apartment with blind meth-headed Trunchbull and Scary Terry, it was getting really tiring.

Finally, he sighed. "I've been thinkin'."

"Oh no." You feigned fear. He shot you a warning glare. One of those 'try me and see what happens' glares. "About what?"

He didn't answer right away. His eyes kept glancing toward the pocket his cigar was stashed in. He was struggling not to light it.

You were about to ask again, but before you could, he finally spoke up.

"I drove past the school a few days ago. It's still standing, y'know. It looks the same as it did 15 years ago." He laughed, though it sounded empty. "Abandoned, sure. But it's there."

Yeah, clearly, Disney spent all their budget on Princess remakes. A shame, really. The mansion was a good place to have movie nights.

"And it just...hit me, I guess. Everything's gone, kid." His voice grew soft, and the expression he was wearing broke your heart. "Everyone I knew, everyone I ever cared about, is dead. All I got left is this shitty apartment, a crap truck, and annoying roommates who drive me crazy."

"To be fair, I haven't had any accidents in three months," Wade called from the living room. Honestly, you weren’t even aware he was home. It was even more of a miracle that he heard Logan. "Saving the world has improved my driving skills. Now, I only hit pedestrians."

"Shut the fuck up, Wilson," Logan barked, his claws popping out of his knuckles with a snikt. "Or I'll shove those swords up your ass and make you eat 'em."

“Slow your roll, Caesar Salad; this is a PG story. Step off with the sexual violence, at least until you have the author's consent to do so." Wade turned the corner into the kitchen, a huge bag of Taco Bell in his hand. "Besides, Vanessa wouldn’t be too happy if she found out I was cheating on her with your foot long. You know how jealous she gets. One time, I tried to-"

"Wade, please," You groaned. He looked at you, then at Logan, and nodded.

"You're right, you're right. I should respect the rating." Wade waved his hand in the air and made his way out of the room, taking a bite out of one of his tacos. "Also, the fact that I’m technically a father figure in this fic, for reasons we can't disclose here. I’d rather not turn this wholesome story into some weird-ass daddy kink porno, even though I wouldn’t mind if it were."

He turned his attention to an empty wall momentarily, a smile creeping on his face. "I have a feeling you guys wouldn't either, judging by the comments on those other ones, and honestly, I don't blame you. My body is a temple, and it should be worshiped. Just ask all those Honda Odyssey rewrites. They'd know all about that, especially the ones that end with me getting-"

"WADE," You and Logan yelled at the same time, his claws still unsheathed. Logan looked ready to jump over the counter and murder him, and while it wasn’t uncommon for Wade to be shredded like string cheese, the two of you had had enough drama to last the rest of the year.

"Ugh, fine." He threw his hands up, his tacos spilling all over the floor. "But just for the record, I totally just stole the focus of this fic. Don't let Logan fool you. He's only the main character because this is his story, but the real star of the show is moi." He pointed a finger to his chest and winked at you. You couldn't help but laugh.

"Get the fuck outta here," Logan said, his claws sliding back into his knuckles. "I swear to god, Wilson, if you ruin my day any more than you already have, I'm gonna shove you into the wood chipper."

"You have a wood chipper?" Wade raised an eyebrow, grinning. "My, oh, my. Who would have thought the lumberjack would make a reappearance?"

"Five. Four. Three. Two. One," You muttered.

"Don't push me, asshole." Logan was growling, his claws once again threatening to slice into the other man.

A normal person would have run away by now, but not Wade. You had known him long enough to understand that he thrived off of conflict. He was the most chaotic son of a bitch you had ever met, and nothing excited him more than pissing people off.

But, again, this wasn’t his story. He was just hijacking it, and the author had had enough. So, without further ado, they did the most logical thing. They made Mary Puppins appear, and suddenly, she was in his arms, and he was out of the kitchen, leaving behind the Taco Bell, his jokes, and his dignity.

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, trying not to laugh. You managed to contain it, but just barely.

You glanced over at Logan, and he still had a look on his face like he was drained and exhausted. Of course, now annoyance and anger were mixed into the cocktail.

With your sister’s boyfriend out of the picture, he slumped down against the counter, running a hand through his hair. Not much of it, given the current length, but enough that he could pull at it.

"I'm sorry," You said. You felt a pang of sympathy for him, and you couldn't imagine the shitstorm that must be going on in his mind. After all, he wasn't like the rest of you. He was a lot older, and his life had been filled with a lot more heartache and pain than you would ever experience. "It sucks."

He didn't say anything, so you continued.

"I mean, I don't know what it's like, obviously, but I can't imagine how it must feel to lose everything like that. Everyone." You paused, thinking about your family. Your own life hadn't exactly been a picnic, but the world hadn't come crashing down around you. Not yet, at least. "I can't imagine the kind of strength you must have to go on."

He grunted, which was pretty much the Logan version of a 'Thank you.'

"I just..." His voice was quiet. "I just want something permanent. That’s not this." He motioned to the room around you, and you couldn't help but notice the look in his eyes.

"I get it."

"I don't think you do, kid," he muttered, staring at his feet.

"Hey, give me a little credit. I might not be ancient like you, but I've seen some shit. Wade is infatuated with Nessie, so I go through that bullshit every other day." You shook your head. "The two of them can be a real handful together."

"No kiddin'." He snorted.

"I mean, sure. The world went to hell, but I think it's pretty safe to say that you deserve something good after all the crap that's happened." You shrugged, looking around the room. "This is that something."

He stared at you for a long moment, and you wondered if you said something wrong. Speaking to him was always a gamble. Sometimes, he would respond, and the two of you could actually hold a conversation. Other times, he would shut down and refuse to talk, or worse, yell at you.

It seemed like luck was on your side today.

"Maybe." His eyes moved to his hands, and his gaze was distant. "It's hard to think that when I'm stuck in this hell hole."

"It's not that bad."

"You’re just saying that so Wilson doesn’t think about moving back in with your sister." He rolled his eyes. "And it is. We all know that."

"Okay, fine, you're right. The apartment is shitty, and so is the neighborhood. The landlord is a bitch, and the neighbors are loud." You took a breath, leaning closer. "But, you have us."

"Oh, don't you start."

"And you've got your truck and your liquor and the crappy TV in the living room. I say, if that isn't permanent, I don't know what is."

Logan opened his mouth, but you held a finger up.

"You might not realize it, but you have a family here." You smiled at him, and he scoffed, turning his face away from you.

"I've had families before. Doesn't work out."

"Well, we're of the more persistent kind," you teased, reaching across the counter and punching him lightly on the shoulder. "We aren't going anywhere. Especially Wade. Man is a tick that refuses to let go."

"God, I wish he would."

"He won't. You're stuck with him. You’ll be the best man at his wedding, and we both know it." You grinned, and he rolled his eyes, though the corner of his lips quirked.

"Great," he muttered.

Secretly, you knew he enjoyed the banter with Wade. He acted annoyed and irritated, but deep down, you were certain he was amused. Might be frustrated, but definitely amused.

You were about to tell him that, but he spoke first.

"Thanks, kid." He reached across the counter and squeezed your arm. "You're a pain in the ass, but you're not so bad."

"Not so bad?" You snorted. "Wow. Is that how the Wolverine slid into the hearts of millions?"

He chuckled and shook his head, a smile spreading across his face. "You know what I mean, you brat."

You stood, walking around the counter. You threw your arms around him and pulled him into a hug. He didn’t hug back for reasons that you understood. Still, you wanted him to know that you were there for him and he could rely on you.

"You know," you started. "I think a lot of people would be surprised by the softy you are under all the grumpiness."

"Yeah, well, don't go around spreadin' that." He pushed you away gently, shaking his head. "I’m not a damn teddy bear, and I'll rip your throat out if you start tellin' people."

"I’m getting the Wade treatment? A threat of death if I speak a word?" You laughed, shaking your head. "I’m honored."

"Sometimes I wonder if he is your sibling instead of your sister."

"Nah, I’m too pretty to be a Wilson." You smirked. "If anything, I'm more related to my cousin."

"The one who tried to kill you last month?"

"That's the one."

"Then you definitely are a Wilson."

[zapreportsblog]

❝HUSBAND❞

✭ PAIRING : Edward Cullen x Reader

✭ FANDOM : Twilight

✭ SUMMARY : When Edward proposed to Bella he expected her to accept after all they were mates? Right? Wrong! Bella rejected edwards proposal breaking his undead heart in the process, not being able to withstand the aftermath Edward leaves home; only to return 2 years later but this time he’s married?!

✭ AUTHORS NOTE : I already know there is a story on here called the same story with the same cover (on quotev at least) mines had been edited to a clearer form, (again on quotev) that was my old account, (marveluserlovesmarbel again on quotev was my old and very first account) one of my first actually. If I can remember the login information from it I’d log back in and post my stories from their over here but for now enjoy the remake of said story :)

✭ QUOTEV VERSION

✭ HUSBAND MASTERLIST

✭ CHAPTER TWO : A Surprise Homecoming

Inside the Cullen home, a sense of curiosity and anticipation hung in the air. The family gathered at the entrance, drawn by Alice's sudden vision and the excitement radiating from her. Her golden eyes sparkled as she clapped her hands together.

"I just had a vision," Alice announced, "Edward is coming back, and he should be arriving any minute now."

Everyone exchanged glances, surprised and eager to see Edward again. Moments later, the sound of an approaching car could be heard, and they watched as Edward pulled into the driveway. As he stepped out of the car, they were taken aback by the presence of a woman in the passenger seat. Edward opened her door, and they exited the vehicle, both smiling warmly at the Cullen family.

Edward greeted his siblings with hugs and was bombarded with questions about his trip. Carlisle suggested they continue the conversation inside, and they all moved into the house.

Once inside, Edward introduced the woman beside him. "Everyone, this is (Y/n). We got married."

The room fell into stunned silence. Carlisle was the first to break it, his face a mixture of surprise and happiness. "Edward, this is wonderful news, but since when did you get married?"

Edward explained, "We got married a year ago."

Alice gasped, fake outrage coloring her tone. "And you didn't let me plan your wedding? Unacceptable!"

Laughter rippled through the room as they realized Alice was teasing. Edward smiled, "Honestly, after Bella, I didn't expect to find love again."

Esme stepped forward, her motherly warmth enveloping them. "Well, I'm happy you did, son." She turned to (Y/n) and asked, "Now, how did you two come to be?"

(Y/n) laughed, her eyes sparkling. "I tried to kill him."

Bewildered looks crossed the faces of the Cullen family. Jasper scoffed and nodded. "That explains it."

”I’m sorry what?!”

”What can I say, it’s in my blood to hunt creatures like Edward,” (y/n) says with a laugh.

“Hunt? Are you a hunter?” Esme asked with slight hesitation.

”Yeah. My last name was Winchester but i guess it’s now (Y/n) Winchester Cullen, decided to keep my last name you know.”

Jasper can’t help but scoff, “Figures.”

Everyone was still puzzled, and Jasper elaborated, "The Winchesters are a hot-blooded family of hunters."

Edward added, "We're also mates."

Rosalie, never one to hide her feelings about Bella, couldn't help but ask, "Wait, aren't you and Bella mates?"

Edward explained, "When I met Bella, it was her blood that called out to me. She was my blood singer, which is why I felt such a strong connection to her. I deluded myself into thinking I loved her for her. But when I met (Y/n), I instantly felt the mate bond."

The family began to understand, and the room filled with smiles and warm welcomes for (Y/n). It was a surprising turn of events, and everyone felt a sense of joy and acceptance as they welcomed Edward and his new love back into their immortal lives.

┉

As the Cullen family settled into their cozy living room, the girls - Alice, Esme, Rosalie, and (Y/n) - conspired to have some girl talk out on the balcony. They silently made their way outside, leaving the boys to their own devices.

On the balcony, a sense of camaraderie and curiosity enveloped the girls. Esme leaned against the railing, looking at (Y/n) with a warm smile. "So, (Y/n), how did you find out that Edward was a vampire?"

(Y/n) leaned against the balcony and looked out at the starry night sky. "He did a good job hiding it at first, but after a few weeks, I noticed something unusual. One day, he reached out for something, and his hand caught the sunlight, causing it to sparkle like diamonds. I couldn't ignore that."

Rosalie's eyebrows arched in interest. "And what did you do next?"

(Y/n) chuckled. "I did what any person would do in this situation—I did some research. I found out about the myth of vampires sparkling in the sunlight, and it all started to make sense."

Esme nodded, a soft chuckle escaping her lips. "You were pretty observant."

(Y/n) shrugged. "I guess I've always had a knack for details."

Rosalie, intrigued by the prospect of conversation, leaned in closer. "Have you encountered more of our kind?"

(Y/n) thought for a moment before responding. "I've hunted vampires, but they're of different vampiric natures. Some of them don't sparkle, instead, they burn in the sunlight. Others have special jewelry that allows them to go into the sunlight without a problem."

Alice leaned forward, her golden eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Tell us more about the supernatural creatures you've encountered."

(Y/n) began to share stories of her encounters with various supernatural beings, including werewolves, shape-shifters, and even ancient mythical creatures. The girls listened with rapt attention, enjoying the opportunity to learn about (Y/n)'s adventurous life.

Back in the living room, the boys decided to go on a hunt, giving the girls some privacy. Edward proposed the idea, and Emmett, Carlisle, and Jasper readily agreed. With their departure, the girls had their opportunity to get to know (y/n) better.

In the heart of the dark woods, the Cullen brothers and father continued their hunt. Jasper, after a moment of contemplation, decided to address the questions that had been gnawing at him. He turned to Edward and said, "You look well."

Edward chuckled, his voice a wry whisper. "What's with the small talk, Jasper? You know I can hear your thoughts going a million miles a minute."

Jasper sighed, his concern evident. "Why a hunter, Edward? I know she's your mate, but you could've pulled away."

Edward's eyes, glinting like polished onyx in the moonlight, met Jasper's. "You know I wouldn't have been able to pull away if I felt the pull."

Jasper persisted, his voice tinged with worry. "She's a hunter, Edward. She's dangerous."

Edward countered, "And I'm a vampire. I can be dangerous too."

Emmett, who had been silently listening, finally chimed in. "I mean, they both can kill each other at the end of the day. Can't we move on from this topic?"

Jasper was unrelenting. "No, he's putting us all in danger. Aside from her being the very thing that kills us, she's also a human."

Edward's brow furrowed, and he asked, "What's your problem, Jasper?"

Jasper's voice grew more serious. "Listen, you've never faced a Winchester before. I have. Trust me, you don't want to cross their path."

Before the argument could escalate any further, Carlisle intervened. "Gentlemen, I suggest we drop this argument for now. I see something." He pointed toward a deer approaching through the trees, reminding them of the primary purpose of their venture. The brothers refocused their attention on the hunt, leaving their concerns and debates for another time.

The Cullen brothers and father, fresh from their successful hunt, made their way back to the house. Emmett carried the lifeless deer, a triumph in his strong arms. As they approached the house, their senses picked up the unmistakable scent of a familiar visitor. Bella Swan had arrived, her red beat-up pickup truck parked near the house.

Bella hesitated by the truck, her posture awkward and uncertain. She called out to Edward, "Hey, Edward. It's been a while."

Edward's face remained a mask of emotionless grace, but he kindly greeted her with a simple, "Hello, Bella."

Bella continued, "I didn't believe Charlie when he said he saw you passing through Forks. He said he saw you with someone. I take it you've brought a friend?"

Before Edward could answer, (Y/n) appeared, coming outside with a warm smile to greet him and the others. She rushed into Edward's arms, showering him with affectionate kisses on the face.

"My love," (Y/n) said, her voice filled with both relief and happiness. "You've been gone for so long, I got worried."

Edward's stoic facade softened as he held (Y/n) close, returning her affection with a warm embrace. Bella watched their reunion with a mix of emotions, perhaps sensing that the connection between Edward and (Y/n) was deeper and more profound than she had ever experienced with him.

[thejokig23]

Love Dante so fucking much. I love how his design reflects his story soo so much

In DMC 3 he's young and reckless. Messy haircut, no shirt under his jacket, one sleeve ripped in half, and baggy pants with chunky boots. He looks like a bit of a douchebag... And he kinda is until the end if the game

DMC 1 Dante is more professional and sleek - he's taking things seriously, and taking steps to achieve his goal of avenging his family

I could gloss over DMC 2 Dante, but I do think there is something you could glean from it. It's even more proper than his DMC 1 design, and has more black on it. Overall, he looks more miserable, which makes sense for someone who may have just completed the one thing giving his life purpose, and thinking he killed his last family member in the process

In contrast to DMC 2, DMC 4 Dante is back on his feet, with a slight cowboy theming with the chaps. He's even more layed back than ever, like in the time since DMC 2 he's reconnected with past friends and found himself again, furthered when he finds Nero and becomes the cool uncle almost immediately (even if he might not know how literal that may be at said moment)

Then by DMC 5 he's kinda chilled out a bit. Wearing his old coat, ripped shirt, and overall more rugged clothes, with some very noticeable stubble. He's not trying anymore, he's comfortable, he knows what he's worth

Out of all of them, his design in Devil May Cry 1 is my favourite. I'm hoping for some type of remake of DMC 1 so we can get some higher quality renders if his outfit (and make it Actually Fun)

[podsn]

Working on this redraw of an old My Goodbye animatic with Barriss and Luminara. I started it about a year ago and never finished it so I’m remaking it cuz I’ve had sudden motivation to remake it.

Right now it’s just some very early sketches. The last one had a bit too much movement for what it was and this time I want to focus more on facial expressions and slight body movements. The song itself it supposed to be more arguing than full blown action so I’m trying to mimic that better than I did last time. It’s still in the planning stages rn tho.

I hope I actually finish this one too 😭

[crystal-moon-101]

I've been thinking about it for a while now, but I realized I really want to do some big project for The Secret Saturdays, so expect to see some things related to that eventually. But for now I'll work on other things as I build up to it, including how the Saturdays may look in this project. It'll take place a year after the series final, making Zak 14-years-old. So I adjusted the characters so, along with giving my own makeover for my own style. I also put them in similar poses in their main poster, including remaking the background for it, so I hope you enjoy! 🧡

Zak I really wanted to update since my drawing I made with him, Rex and Ben, knowing I could do much better with his design. Based on my previous drawing of him, I've always been fond of Zak having wild, thick hair, the kind that tiny cryptids would love to nest in. I also know that most people expect him to grow up to look more similar to his dad, big and bulky, but I've always been fond of having him stay short, with a slim, almost serpent-like build. Sharp, quick and almost feminine in a sense. Ironic given both his parents are really tall and built to break stone itself. He also still has dragon features like my previous design, like the dragon eyes, scales across his body and fangs/claws.

Doc and Drew I could mostly the same, since they wouldn't really change in a year beyond some slight changes to their uniforms. I kept the jumpsuits since I just vibe with them. I did try and make Drew look a little older, to give off more mum vibes, and cut her hair a little shorter since she strikes me as the kind of woman who cuts it every so often when it gets annoyingly long. Doc I adjusted the scar to go across the rest of his head, almost looking like a lightning bolt. I also gave them, and the other Saturday members, the same symbol Zak had on his shirt, to really help connect them as a family.

Zon I gave more patterns, Fisk some more fluff and Komodo more slick design, showcasing how different each of them are. They each get a band of sorts that hold the family symbol, letting people know who they're family with. Though I imagine it took some time to convince Komodo to wear his one, and not just eat it.

[elsmaster]

Here's a few selfies and progress pictures, because I want pictures of the full costume on my Tumblr as well!

I un-mirrored the ones taken in a mirror, because I can't deal with it looking like the earring and orb are on the wrong side. The orb is also off-centre, because I figured it might be more visible that way, but absolutely no one could see it either way, so... ehh.

I've been going back and forth between getting/making a proper hairy fake beard, and just using the makeup-stubble-skills I got to practice for years because I wore Anders so much. I went with the latter, and I'm genuinely a little surprised by how well it turned out. Not perfect by any means, but almost believable, and definitely better than my first and only make-up test back in March. All in all, my Gale makeup seems to just be my Anders makeup, with very slight alterations. I'm okay with that.

A quick (HAH. It's a novel) rundown of what the costume is made of, under the cut! If anyone wants to ask anything, I'll do my best to elaborate.

The shirt is cotton velvet (it's insanely gorgeous and soft, and the color shifts beautifully between blue and purple depending on the light) from BodikianTextiles, and I used several metres of decorative trim for the collar, hem and sleeves. I hand-stitched silver satin piping on both edges of the trim, and then stitched it all on the shirt by hand.

There's around 80 hematite beads on the bottom edge of the collar (they're absolutely not in the reference, but I've always loved how hematite looks and got fixated on the idea of just adding the beads inside the little silver twists), bordered with silver satin cord. All of that is, very surprisingly, also hand-sewn.

All the brown trim is the same leather as the belt, also hand-stitched. The leather is terrible quality, so even though I did my best to stitch gently, it tore a little in a lot of places, and the stitches turned out so wonky it's a little tragic. I didn't have enough of the leather for the hem of the shirt, so I used some faux suede cord I had and wove a four-strand braid that I then topped with silver beads. And sewed on by hand, but that's a probably a given at this point.

The trousers are a very basic cotton blend, and I mean to use them with Gale's purple robe as well, just with different chaps. These chaps are made of an insanely soft purple leather, the origin of which is a mystery to me (everyone who's touched it, including my 63-year-old mother, has made inappropriate noises at how soft it is, so make of that what you will). I got the trim from a shop in Estonia, and completely unsurprisingly sewed it on by hand. I was planning on burning the leaf pattern on the leather, but after a few tests I decided I'd rather not risk ruining everything.

The belt is my least favourite part, because it turned out a lot more dodgy than I'd like. It's entirely possible I'll remake the base of it at some point with a better quality leather. The plates are worbla, and topped with silver-leaf. They're riveted to the belt, and the wobbly beading is, yet again, sewn on by hand. The belt attaches with velcro in the back.

The earring pendant is resin printed, from a model by IllustrisModels, and topped with silver-leaf. It's simply attached to a small silver hoop.

The wig is a lace front from Wig Is Fashion that I've modified... a lot. I changed the shape of the hairline by cutting it back into a more of a rectangular shape (I have a very round face, so the standard straight lace hairlines tend to make me look like I'm exactly eight months old, which is not the intended look here), and intentionally cut the edge a lot more jagged that I usually would. I added individual gray and white hairs here and there on the lace portion, and sewed on small pieces of two tones of gray wefts at the back.

I ended up thinning the wig quite a bit at the top, because I have a massive head, and it just looked like I had a helmet on. I'll add more wefts at the back at some point, so make the ends look a little fuller. It's currently a bit mullet-y, and even though I think the gen z is into that sort of thing, I'm a millennial and would rather not have a mullet ever again, please and thank you.

That's... it? I think? I'll post proper pictures once I get them, but for now, enjoy the wall of text!

[fawism]

From Dusk 'Til Dawn

Summary: When life gives you lemons, you don't make lemonade. You run for your life and pray that you'll make it out alive of this godforsaken, mass-infected land.

Pairings: Leon Kennedy/reader, Luis Serra/reader, Ada Wong/reader, slight Ashley Graham/reader

Word count and tags: at least 4k / canon-typical violence and your usual RE4R warnings. Slow burn, friendship, awkward flirting, attempt at humor err, slight angst/comfort for future chapters. SPOILERS!!

A/N: This is a multi-chapter fic just a heads up. I also published it in AO3 & Wattpad. :D This was originally a sole Leon fic from years ago until the remake ignited my will to continue the idea again. Note, Leon's technically not in the first chapter but I promise he'll be in the next one. Translations are in the comments!

Chapter 1: Straight outta horror movie

Filth latched on you. Its gross dampness oozed through the white fabric, violating the personal space that was your skin.

One more.

Just one more miscalculated step and you'd lose your well-kept balance, plummeting face first into the dirty, wet earth.

"Why am I even here?"

An upbeat cheer was your friend's response to your unending gripe. "You can do it! I believe in you."

"I don't believe in myself."

Sam was standing atop a boulder just ahead of you with her hands on her hips. "I thought you said you wanted to be adventurous for a change?"

"I said I needed a get-away from the city, not go hiking in this damn weather!" you fired back.

Of course you had terrible luck sliding across mud whilst traversing through the thick forest. Flailing around midway to steady yourself only did you more bad than good when your foot landed on an ankle-deep hole in the soil— you ought the universe likes to be cruel to you in that way.

Your other companion attempted to console your frustrations by extending a helping hand. "This is a sign that you should go out more so you can keep up with us." With Peter's efforts, he yanked you out of your misery and navigated you through the safety of an even ground.

"I do, just not with you two."

"Hurry, hurry!" Sam jogged onwards with a rushing Peter behind her.

"Wait up!"

You stood there dumbfounded, your grumbles of protest soon ignored as they playfully shoved each other all the way to an overview of the massive woods. "Yeah, don't mind me. I'm basically just air."

While they soaked in the presence of nature, snapping multiple photos of the same scenery— everywhere you looked were just rows of trees dimmed into the gathering fog— you busied yourself by sitting next to a withering plant, popping your sludge-filled sneaker off.

You deflated at its state. My shoe.

"We're almost there." The ever so enthusiastic Sam motioned at the path beyond. She withdrew a worn-out map from her bag, waving it off with a wide smile, before flipping it right open. It left you wondering how old the poor thing was, seemed like one more careless unfolding and she would tear it apart herself out of excitement. "It says here there's only a mile until the gates of the abandoned church."

"It feels like I'm in a horror movie about dumb teens walking to their death," you said flatly, back hunched as you tapped the disgusting residues out of your shoe.

"Don't make me drag you by your legs." Your vacant stare glazed over hers. As if she would be able to without cracking a back or two. "Look, I promise you, it's going to be an awesome experience."

"Not when we're walking right into cannibalistic territory."

"Don't worry," Peter piped up, sending you a small grin, "I don't think they're going to be interested in your guts anyways."

"Good, they can start chowing you down first."

Sam eagerly clapped her hands together. "Alright! Less talking, more climbing. Let's go."

Both of them brushed aside your worries as the paranoid talk of a horror enthusiast who has watched one too many films and began trudging up towards the murky terrain. With no other choice you slipped your ruined shoe back on, toes squirming uncomfortably in left-over mud as you pocketed your equally ruined sock.

Considering you had no plans of returning by yourself, far away from the civilization you all came from, you unwillingly followed suit with a permanent scowl on your lips.

Apparently your friends' idea of escaping the hardships of responsibility and adulthood was to trek these rocky cliffs in search for an ancient church hidden within the mountains of this remote land. Scratch that, you reminded yourself that they were nothing but co-workers who have managed to recruit you into their quest of going off-course from the trail a local guide had specifically told you not to go off-course.

The situation had set your alarm bells ringing off the charts. Who in their right minds would journey through these unregistered parts of the area without an escort?

If looks could kill, you'd be charged with first degree murder. Unaware of your glare focused on their backs, Sam and Peter chattered amongst themselves about the thrilling possibility of discovering something bizarre.

It was true that you wanted to step out of your comfort zone at least once. So rather than opting for a usual holiday inn along with the most basic, jam-packed tourist hotspots, you were convinced to accept their offer of exploring an obscure landscape with a secret underground structure.

Honestly, it wasn't that bad.

It wasn't supposed to be this bad.

You wouldn't be moping about if only your colleagues didn't stray from the original route you had all decided to stick to.

Your mind wouldn't be full of unimaginable terrors if the resident guide didn't just vanish nearly two hours ago when he made a beeline to the closest gutter somewhere to take a piss, which prompted your group to continue forward because how else were you guys going to get your money's worth from paying this trip if not make a curious little detour on your own?

No, everything would have been fine if there were no ominous grey clouds hanging above the skies, nor pitter-patters of water dropping lightly on your heads.

Peter swatted your arm at the sight of your sour expression. "Keep frowning like that and you're gonna end up old early I'm telling you."

Leaves and twigs crunched beneath the weight of your feet as the three of you constantly marched through the overgrown branches on the way.

You smacked a few out of your face. "Nothing to smile about in my life."

Sam paused in her steps, whirling around to confront you. Her hands were soon on your shoulders accompanied by a squeeze. "Stop getting worked up so much. You need to relax, okay?" Now she was shaking the hell out of you. "Breathe in some fresh air! Get rid of the pollution in your lungs."

"It stinks in here," you said as a matter-of-fact.

The surrounding environment reeked that it felt like the stench personally sucker-punched you in the nose. It was as if here rested a burial of decaying flesh and numerous crap combined.

Hopefully said decaying flesh was of animal remains, not something... much worse.

"Man, don't be lame. We don't get this much days-off from corporate so you might as well enjoy yourself," Peter huffed as the three of you resumed walking.

"He's right. Do you really have to be negative about it?" Sam questioned, craning her head sideways to peek at you.

"Listen, I'm not here to spoil your fun."

"Well you're already doing a good job at it."

"The point is," you interjected fast, "it takes zero effort to be a bit more careful in general."

She raised her brows. "Yeah, because a cannibal's going to jump its teeth right at us."

"Or some rando with a mask and a machete," Peter added, nudging at her. They both wore matching snickers. "See? This is what happens when you keep watching those crappy B-rated films at midnight."

You deadpanned at their lack of tact in comprehending the dangers of travelling on foreign roads. "When I die, I'm haunting you two first."

Not that this exchange was anything new.

It should've been half expected, them dismissing your comfort in general for their own fun. The last time you attended a company gathering, a couple of your associates were dragging you left and right to a toast by chugging multiple bottles at once. One thing led to another, with you refusing to be black-out drunk with some unfamiliar faces, then you ended up getting blamed for killing the fun out of the party.

All because you didn't like the idea of being wasted around people you didn't know. That and you wouldn't want to turn up at work the next day with a banging headache.

You didn't hate your co-workers.

Although you were tempted to wring some of their necks at one point or two, you'd rather learn how to mingle with the crowd than be tagged as a pathetic social outcast. Sure, you can stand up for yourself, but it was easier to stay on everybody's good side while you simply faded into the office wallpaper minding your own business (not at the expense of your boundaries of course!)

It's hard enough that your superiors stack tons of reports on your desk with a huge, fat date of a deadline attached to it, you didn't need another hassle in the form of people who actively wished for your downfall just because you were being a jerk about somebody's ugly outfit or whatever.

Having close acquaintances to help you out with a few workloads was a plus too.

And so, socialize you did.

"If you hate it so much, why did you bother coming?" Sam fell back in line beside you while Peter wandered ahead.

You stomped on dirt as you treaded under the bleak drizzle of the afternoon. "Because if I didn't, who knows what would happen to you two? And they might accuse me of pushing you off a cliff or something if I came back without you guys in tow."

Her quiet snort didn't go unnoticed. "Would you push us off a cliff or something?"

"Hm." Your eyes shortly closed, as if you were contemplating over the thought. "I'm still deciding on it."

An abrupt shift in the background and hasty rustling from the hills had you snapping your neck in alarm towards the source of the unwelcomed noise. Your gaze started darting everywhere, seeking for anything, anyone, scurrying around the meadows prepared to pounce on your unsuspecting selves.

You turned to Sam, shushing her with a finger. "Hold up."

"Now what?"

"Did you hear that?"

"Oh for Pete's sake," she exclaimed in disbelief.

Peter tossed a glance by his shoulder. "You called?"

"No not you!"

"Okay, I swear, I heard something." Your voice hinted budding anxiety.

"Can you please stop scaring yourself every five minutes?"

"It could have been a squirrel or raccoon on the run from you," Peter suggested out loud.

Wind breezed just right past the edge of your cheeks.

Something swift came whizzing from behind you, hitting Sam and straight up knocking the breath out of her backwards.

Your heart almost leaped out of your throat that you would have stumbled on your feet if they were not physically petrified on the forest floor at the same time. Eyes bulging wide and insides twisting together in sick realization, you stilled at the arrow that was jammed deep into Sam's shoulder.

Dark red started blooming along her clothes while she laid there stunned.

Holy shit.

Holy shit.

Holy shit!

Frantic screams erupted all together, cutting through the once uncanny silence encompassing the woods.

Your head shot up everywhere while you cradled her against you. Sam's trembling hands hovered unsurely to where the tip of the arrow has punctured her. She gasped through labored breathing, spluttering words of pain and sobbing begs for help.

"Peter!"

He dashed towards the two of you before you knew it, his knees skidding across the field. Peter found himself in a binding frenzy and his immediate move was to rip the arrow out of Sam's flesh at her repeated pleas.

"Wait don't!"

She burst into another fit of shrieks.

"Shit!" Peter was quick to let go of the arrow's handle once he understood his grave mistake. He jerked around back and forth the area. "Where did it come from?!"

"I don't know!"

"¡Forasteros!"

"¡Cazadlos!"

"¡Preparad la trampa!"

Not far away from your rooted position were screeches of a seemingly angry mob emerging from nowhere. Their initial silhouettes soon changed into clear outlines, revealing a group of villagers rapidly approaching armed with various pitchforks, sickles and torches illuminating their vicious nature.

Hostile gazes were dead set upon you.

"¡Muerte!"

Fear rattled you down to the very core. "Get her up! Now." Your arms circled around Sam's limbs to hoist her up, Peter did the same, and both of you began carrying her limping form with all your mights. Her head flopped to the side, signifying that she was on the verge of passing out. "Sam, stay with me."

An arrow came zipping through the air.

And another.

And another.

"Watch out!" In a matter of seconds you were tackling Peter to the ground. Filth spread throughout your clothes as the two of you rolled out of the ambush.

Long ago did you forget your holds on Sam. The force of their consecutive shots sent her flying and toppling on her back. When you wobbly pushed yourself back up to reach out for her, your voice died into a mute static, mouth hanging agape in sheer shock. Terror tightened its clutch on you as your heart lurched at the image in front of you.

"—elp."

There was an arrow lodged into Sam's windpipe. Similar ones were protruding from her thighs and abdomen from singlehandedly taking on the earlier onslaught. You watched in quiet horror as she miserably clawed at the one speared on her neck while choking in her own blood, light splatters painting her face as she gurgled the thick liquid now pooling from her mouth. Red slowly trickled underneath her, it stained the golden browns and bright greens of the fallen wet leaves.

"—go."

A different voice reverberated through the soundless background, screaming for your name.

"Let's go!" Peter's hand seized you by the collar of your shirt, almost strangling you in the process. He pulled your mind out of the water and you instantly tumbled forward alongside him. "Move godammit!"

You finally found your footing at his harsh tug and the two of you raced maniacally through the woods, never once looking back. You didn't think you canever look back at the macabre where you left your dying companion behind.

It wasn't until a few minutes into making a run for your lives did you glide into a complete stop. You placed a hand against a tree to support yourself from the hammering in your chest and to catch some needed air. "Sam, she," you uttered, regaining the ability to speak again without bile threatening to spill. There was an inaudible crack in your tone. "She was..."

Peter was just as breathless as he combed through the stuff inside his backpack. "W–we need to, we need to call for help," he stammered, fumbling with the phone that he barely had a grasp on.

Following his act, you brought out yours. Your grip intensified, stomach sinking at the screen with zero reception. "Really, at a time like this?"

"Useless piece of crap!" Peter threw the device in a brief outburst of rage. It smashed against the bark of a tree. He wound up scrubbing his face, hands moving to clutch his hair.

"What are we gonna do?" You thrusted your phone back into your bag. "Sam had the map."

"I... don't know." Peter lifted his disoriented features at you. He sniffed a bit and rubbed his nose using the sleeves of his jacket. "I don't know."

Lightning flashed above the dreary skies. The thunder's presence rumbled across a distance soon after. A storm was brewing not far ahead.

"Aprisa, aprisa, seescapan los corderitos!"

Both of you jolted out of the fleeting sense of peace, trepidation on the rise yet again at the impending horde whose sole mission was to disembowel you alive by the looks of it.

"They caught up," you whispered panic-stricken as you ducked out of their line of sight.

Peter grabbed your arm. "When I run, you run, got it?"

"Do you even know where we're going?"

"It doesn't matter!" he retorted, "We're running until we find help. Don't look back, you understand?"

You gulped, before flashing him a hesitant nod with your lips forming a tight line.

"C'mon."

Adrenaline pumped through your nerves as the two of you sprinted blindly towards the woodland.

Peter appointed himself to take the lead and was now speeding in front of you. "We're going to be fine, we're going to be fine, we're going to be fine," he continuously mumbled under his breath. It was more of a reassurance for him to help his remaining sanity intact. His jaws clenched in agitation, the throbbing across his ribs was non-stop.

He risked a glimpse at you, hoping that you were still trailing behind him. Stick together and we're going to be fine.

A violent snap echoed in your ears.

"Fuck! Ah!"

Dread crashed down on you all at once. You could feel your own foundation on the brink of crumbling at the scene playing right before your eyes that you almost collapsed when you staggered back.

Peter howled in agony on the ground, hanging on to his leg where his foot has been clamped shut by a bear trap. Its rusty maw chewed at his flesh, the teeth penetrated his muscles open while chunks of skin still dangled around the pulverized bone of his ankle joint.

"No no no." Fingers dug into the gaps of the trap as you scratched at its surface, putting all of your combined strength into prying them apart. "Come on you stupid metal crap!"

"Stop."

You didn't hear it the first time.

"I said stop."

You refused to hear whatever the fool has to say at all.

"You're hurting me you dumbass!" Peter slapped your desperate tries away. His words and actions, however, contrasted the rueful smile he had on. Peter dropped his head, his shoulders visibly quaking that you couldn't exactly discern whether he was about to cackle or cry or whichever in between. Then he broke into a series of strained laughter seconds later, which slowly but surely evolved into him shedding mild tears. "I'm bleeding."

"No shit." The blood smeared along his pants said as much. "Now help me get you out!"

"I..." He practically drifted off at the fact that he's screwed, catching himself before he could absolutely lose it. "I'm only going to slow you down."

"Peter Connors, I'm going to drag your ass if I have to!" you yelled at his face as you forced your way through the trap once again, striving to split it open.

His conviction in saving you nearly wavered at your stubbornness to let him go. "You need to leave."

You snatched him by his shirt. "Pull yourself together and stop playing hero!"

He aggressively shoved you in return that he slipped off from your hold. "Do you want to die? I said go!"

His words rendered you speechless. How were you supposed to answer that knowing what he's asking of you meant?

"Beat it before they get here! Just..."

The situation crushed you, despaired with the struggling realization of leaving someone you knew behind to their doom. Again.

It was a miracle that Peter was even capable of a weak chuckle at his misfortune, yet he did. "Horror survival 101, am I right? What else are we supposed to do?"

Your expression contorted, eyes blurring misty. There was a lump stuck in your throat, together with uncertainty that kept your tongue tied. "I'm..."

No.

"I'm going to get help."

Why are you parting him with false hopes?

"So don't you dare die on me, you hear me?"

He doubted he'd still be here in one piece if you did come back. Peter's mouth twitched into a small, helpless smile. "Loud and clear."

You ended up squeezing his shoulder, because it was the only thing you could ever possibly offer someone who would be meeting their eventual demise. "Hang tight."

Great, you sucked at comforting a man who's at death's door too.

"Now go."

He didn't have to tell you twice.

You were already fleeing from the site, like your legs have worked on a mind of their own and now they're pushing you to the limit as you bolted through the extensive land regardless having zero knowledge of the right track.

There should be at least one decent person in this place who could help you out, right?

Right?

"¡Oye!"

With you barreling your way through the forest like a madman, you didn't have ample time to hit the brakes the moment someone else appeared right in front of your path. The impact struck hard as you unintentionally hurled yourself at them, the collision launching both of you spinning down the steep hills against each other.

Pain exploded across your skull when you landed on your back after with a loud thud. "I c— I can't breathe," you wheezed, applying all of your remaining energy turning to your side, but the person responsible for your lack of oxygen doubled your suffering by pressing you down with his entire weight on top of your body.

The man stroked his head, wincing as he carefully picked himself up with a groan, "¡Mierda, you literally ran me over."

Your fight or flight response kicked in as soon as there was space between the two of you and you thrashed like crazy, causing your fist to jab him by the chin. He yelped, jumping back from your punch. You took this chance to spring back on your feet despite the overwhelming ache crossing your temples.

You scrambled with anything you can get your hands on to defend yourself against this likely deranged stranger, until you uncovered a large stone beneath the rubble.

"Woah woah woah!" He almost tipped his balance at the insane intruder rising up with a rock on their hand. "So after your little hit-and-run you're just gonna bash my head in, huh? Is that it?"

"The hell are you saying?" You hissed, vision and limbs unsteady. "Are you a member of that cannibalistic cult?!" you demanded, jutting your weapon in his direction to show him how ready you were to use it if necessary.

"Don't lump me with them! I'm not the one looking like a lunatic."

Your heated clash was interrupted by the imminent, recognizable voices from afar.

"¡Ahíestan!"

"Oh good, did you really have to bring an army with you?"

"Yeah, because I just love the attention from a bunch of crazy townsfolk."

The trade of sarcasm didn't go undetected that the conversation earned a glower of annoyance from you and a pompous smirk from him.

"Looks like we're partners in crime now, no?"

"What?"

"They hate you, they hate me. I don't think they're on their way here to invite us for dinner, don't you think?" His talk was dripping casual as if this was all routine of a typical Sunday morning. "What do you say?"

The shouts were increasing in volume.

"Okay, fine. Fine!" You flung the rock in another direction, resigning your fate into his hands. "Lead the way then or else we're the ones on the menu tonight."

The mystery man didn't budge at first, which provided you with the impression that perhaps you made a mistake of trusting whoever this guy was, instead he put his open palm out for you to— you assumed— shake?

"Luis Serra."

You swiped at him and his untimely introduction. "Save it for later!"

"Ow, rude," he said pretending to be disheartened at your rejection of his camaraderie, before the traces of his comical attitude disappeared, now replaced by a genuine grasp on both of your present circumstances.

"Run like your whole life depends on it."

[1-800-bloop-12]

FAERIE SOIREE; OLD COUNTRYHUMANS

⚠︎; Watch out for the containing

Possible sexy moments (keyword; Possible doesn't mean I'll write it)

Old countries (Nzi, Fscist Italy, Prussia, German Empire, J.E n Stuff. I do not support these countries actions pls don't breathe down my neck ⚡ )

Inappropriate comments and insults

Horrible writing 👽👽👽👽👽

THIS IS A REMAKE FROM MY OLD HORRIBLE STINKY FAT BOOK.

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧1₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥

LIGHT SHOWERS┈┈┈┈․° 🌧 °․┈┈┈┈

Y/N eyes fluttered open, as their body was surrounded by water, colored with a soft pink, purple and blue. They stood up feeling heavy as their white dress/suit/whatevs was soaked, they're hair was soaked too.

The soft shore waved around their ankles as they watched from afar.

Is this heaven or something? The soft bright colors is kinda blinding.

'Hello..' They turned to the voice as it gave them a little surprise. "Hello?.."

There was a figure, tall and wearing a white uniform, but their face was blurred.

Y/N slightly hesitated before walking up to the figure, they could see their hand reaching out. Their soft hands landing in theirs.

It was bigger than there's which was weird.. But it was alright.

Y/N felt the person's hand go to there waist, this gave them a little surprise. 'it's ok Schatz, calm down.' 'He' said, guessing by the slight masculine voice.

They listened to 'him', listening to their heartbeat and the sound of the sea.

Eventually, they started to dance, trying to keep up with 'him'. It felt so peaceful, so calm.

'You're doing so well..' "Thank you.."

'I'm proud you're at least trying to dance.' He said, they looked up at him, confused. "What do you mean?.."

'You wanted to dance right?' "Yes but.. I wanted to do it with a friend or girlfriend/boyfriend..i never really had some one though.."

'Oh dear..' They both stop, Y/n looked up at his face, the blur slightly fading away, they could see his smile.

'You always had me..' His hand caressing their cheek, his thumb rubbing their cheek. 'Even though I'm not a body, or holding hands with you. I'm always there..'

"But.. This is just dream.." They whispered, looking down worriedly. "Dreams don't last long.."

'But there's a way you can make these 'dreams last forever.' "What do you mean.."

'Shift.. Shift your way here.' He said, with intention. "But.. It's not that simple, it is but.. I don't know.."

'Anything is possible Schatz.. If you put your mind to it.' He said booping their nose.

"Thank you.." A smile formed on their face as tears swelled up in their eyes.

'Your welcome Schatz, now go on it's time to wake up.' He said before fading away with wind. Y/N turned around, looking into the sea.

Hearing the seagulls, quiet distant laughing and the sea shore.

"Please come back soon.."

▀▄▀▄⊹•˙🦢.•⊹▀▄▀▄

[ontheblock]

I liked your loose ends with krauser, hoping that will have a continuation... if u don't mind ofc

i do not mind one bit, anon, trust me. this man lives rent free in my head anyway, they did him SO GOOD in the remake. i didn‘t intend to make him toxic but what can i say? i like em like that

loose ends pt ii

warning: slightest puppy play (jack calls reader dog), oral f receiving, slight dubcon(?) (you‘re literally kidnapped), overstimulation

You remembered your house, your couch. Your boyfriend that you thought was dead for almost half a year. You remembered falling asleep under him, remembered his voice speaking lowly about keeping you.

Your brows creased uncomfortably, eyes pinching tightly together. What did he mean?

You remembered bright lights and white walls but it flashed as fast as you could blink. Antiseptic was a ghost in your nose, burning sharply in your sinuses and coating the back of your tongue. There was something underneath. Something old, stale. Sometimes it smelled like gunpowder.

Why was Jack different?

There was a noise, loud and throbbing in your ears. You tried to roll over and stick your head under your pillow. But there was nothing. And this wasn’t your bed.

It was hard and solid and cold. It smelled different yet again - metallic and new.

Your fingers flexed and twitched as you came to your senses.

“You awake?“

Warm, baritone. Your chest tingled but you also flinched, unnerved that you weren‘t alone and didn‘t even know it. You wanted to curl up, suddenly cold. Crisp air blew across your bare arms, bare cheeks, bare feet. Your toes flexed.

“Thought you‘d be out cold until landing, princess.“

Your eyes cracked open. Your throat felt dry around his name. “Jack?“

A laugh. You turned around, seeing blurry shaped before you - mostly greys and whites. And a person.

The first thing to come into focus was Krauser, casually sitting on a cot across from you in full gear - knife strapped to his chest, tactical vest covering most of his torso and knee pads over his green cargo pants. His hand loosely held a pistol, the other worked a cloth across the metal barrel.

He was looking at you with sharp eyes and it almost distracted you from the fact that you two were in a helicopter, of all places, going god knows where. The deafening noise you woke up to were the rotor blades relentlessly spinning.

You felt nauseous for a moment. Not only because Jack hauled you into a helicopter without telling you where it went, not only because he clearly didn‘t expect you to wake up during the flight but because you didn‘t immediately fear for your life. After everything you still felt safe enough around Jack to not be up in arms the moment you woke up in a strange place with him.

You bit the flesh inside your cheek.

“Where is this going?“

Jack rested his elbows on his knees, still slowly wiping down his gun with practiced hand movements. “Does it matter? It‘s not like we‘re turning back anyway.“

You sat up, realizing that you were asleep on a cot mounted to the helicopter wall - the same one Jack sat on across from you. Your hands tightly held onto the edge. “Of course it matters! You‘re crazy for doing this.“

Jack looked at you from under his eyebrows, face blank and calculating. He put down the rag, tossing it onto the cot next to him into the rest of his cleaning kit.

“We‘re scoping out a village in spain. So how about you put that pretty little head down again because there is nothing you can do to turn his thing around.“

You swallowed around a lump in your throat, watching Jack straighten out and closing the cleaning kit case before stashing it into the bag between his feet.

That didn‘t sound horrible but Jack wasn‘t in the army anymore, not since he was taken out of active commission after his injury. Whatever mission he was on right now could have any objection and it left you uneasy.

You wrapped your arms around you, finally giving in to the cold wind fluttering around you. You shivered, teeth shattering as you exhaled through your mouth.

“You cold, sweetheart?“ You looked at Jack, watched him stand up at full height. He barely needed one step to close the distance between you two.

“I know just the thing for that. Let me warm you right up.“

You exhaled shakily as Jack sank to one knee in front of your cot, holding eye contact the whole way down. Two strong hands came down onto your thighs, sliding up into the soft juncture of your hips to urge your legs apart an inch.

Your hands dropped low, catching his wrists as if you had any considerable strength to stop him.

“Wait.“ Jack raised his eyebrows at you, hands resting on your body easily. He was waiting but he wasn‘t the most patient man. “You still owe me an explanation.“

Jack huffed, lazy grin playing at his lips. His hands crept across your hips, gripping you hard. “Do I really?“

“You really do. What- Jack!“ You almost yelped as big hands yanked at your hips, making your ass slide closer to the edge of the cot. You fell backwards onto your elbows with the sudden movement, all words lost.

Jack wasted no time tugging your bottoms down your thighs and you gasped high and sharp as the wind brushed over your newly exposed skin. Gooseflesh made your skin prickle up and Jack immediately placed his warm palms on the tops of your thighs, kneading the flesh.

He was just touching, just petting over your skin but you twitched ever so slightly with every firm squeeze he gave you, squirming in your place on the cot.

Jack wasn‘t a lover who went slow and soft, never was. It left you standing on your tippy toes in anticipation, your thigh muscles taunt and flexed under his hands.

“Relax for me, yeah? We got a whole lot of time.“

You pressed your lips into a firm line. Easy for him to say.

But he looked so good, so like your boyfriend as he knelt between your legs, large hands holding your thighs.

You breathed out a sigh as those fingers inched into the inside of your thighs, pushing them apart to settle closer to his naked price. But instead of aiming for the target, Jack tilted his head to press warm lips into the inside of your right thigh, breathing you in. Your legs fell open further and you felt Jack‘s lips quirk up into a smile. His mouth parted, teeth sinking into your flesh just enough to hurt.

You yelped and twitched, legs unable to close with rough hands holding them open. Jack mouthed at the imprint of teeth, watching you intently the whole time. When he bit down again right next to the tender spot, you sounded more airy, holding yourself up on one elbow as your other hand slid into his short hair. You tugged, an honest to god bodily reaction to Jack‘s teasing. You didn‘t realize until he made a sound deep in his chest, something like a rumbled protest. His mouth left you.

“Trying to set the pace now? That‘s cute.“

Your bottom lips jutted out, hand uncurling around his strands but still resting on his head. “Don‘t tease me.“ He looked amused, thumbs pressing firm circles in the flesh of your thigh. “Please, Jack?“ You sounded soft, almost thought that Jack didn‘t hear you over the steady noise of the rotor blades.

“Good manners, that‘s how I like it.“

You held your breath as Jack finally leaned in and ghosted his hot breath over your pussy. His hands followed, resting in the sensitive spot where your hips and thighs met.

Finally, his tongue pressed flat against your folds, making you shiver and sigh. He glanced up all while licking a broad strip across your sex, tongue catching on your clit on his way up. You whined, hips chasing his mouth as he pulled back from the first lick. He laughed, one arm laying across your stomach to hold your hips down.

This time he moved back in with purpose now that he had you how he liked you - under his mercy.

His mouth closed around your clit, sucking just enough to make you breathe out his name with need. His tongue flicked over your most sensitive spot. You felt the texture of his scars on your skin but only had half a mind to focus on that. Your eyes screwed up tight but you were sure he was still watching from down there. He always liked watching you, picking apart your reactions to most efficiently give you all the pleasure you could take, sometimes even to distract you from how rough he got with your body when he really wanted to let go and take you.

You cried out in surprise, feeling a thick finger rub through your folds, gathering up slick and pushing in three knuckles deep. The stretch from nothing to just one finger was enough to cause a slight sting but the discomfort got muddled up by Jack sucking and licking your clit. It was almost too much but a second finger soon followed, pressing into your pussy and forcing your walls apart.

“Oh God.. Jack-“ You choked on a moan. His chuckle sent vibrations straight through your pussy and up your spine. You desperately tried to grind against his tongue, his fingers but his arm held you down like steel shackles.

You pressed out sweet little “ah, ah, ah“s with every thrust of his fingers, constantly hitting as deep as they could while the constant stimulation on your clit started to burn with the promise of an orgasm. Your fingers flexed in his hair, frustrated and so desperate to get more, get closer, finally cum on his face.

You moaned, pulling his hair shamelessly. It seemed to catch him off guard, actually burying his face between your legs that much closer, teeth scraping your hypersensitive skin.

Jack grunted, sucking your clit once more before moving his head back and leaving you whining for more.

“Wha-?“ You looked at him, unfocused and confused with the same harsh grip on his hair.

“Change of pace, baby.“ Jack sounded slightly winded, flush spreading just across the tips of his ears. His pupils were blown with lust, chin shiny with spit and your slick. He even pulled out his fingers, holding them up for both of you to see. Jack spread them apart, watching your juices stretch between his digits, running down his hand. You moaned softy at the sight.

“You like that? Seeing how good I can fuck you with just two fingers?“

You nodded, thighs shaking slightly as you were so transfixed on Jack‘s hand until he moved them back between your legs. “You‘re not a dog, are you? Use your words.“ A twinge of arousal caught a breath in your throat at his words and you shamefully hoped Jack didn‘t notice. Two soaked fingertips circled around your clit, deliberately missing where you need him the most. His face inched back down, breath fanning over your slicked hole.

“Y-Yeah. I like it…“

“Mmh. Put those legs on my shoulders, baby.“ You complied, albeit not without effort as your legs felt like jelly and moved just the same.

Jack seemed pleased enough, tongue tracing the rim of your pussy while his fingers finally swiped over your clit, smearing your own juices over the spit he already left there. His arm finally freed your hips in favor of having his other hand join his tongue, spreading your pussy with one thumb to work his tongue into your twitching heat. His lips closed around your sex, fingers now working in a slow rhythm on your clit.

His cheeks hollowed, sucking firmly on your folds while his tongue licked across every inch it could reach. He was groaning into your pussy, no doubt straining against his pants painfully.

The thought made you grind against his mouth. “Gonna- Please, make me cum. Ah, please-“

You were slurring words of nonsense, head thrown back and Jack never even slowed down on your pussy, eating you out like it gave him more pleasure than you. Your stomach felt tight, thighs squeezing his head like a wrench but it did little to stop him.

Your orgasm hit you like a boulder in the chest, hot tears running down your cheek as you sobbed and twitched, legs almost falling off his large frame. But Jack didn‘t care although he clearly noticed your walls constricting wildly from too much stimulation as he tongue fucked you through it.

“Too much! Ahh, I can‘t anymore…“

Your elbows gave out under you, sending you harshly on your back while Jack simply pulled your hips closer, holding them with both hands so his face could bury itself into your pussy, nose bumping into your clit. Every touch against it felt white hot and made you cry but Jack was merciless, not stopping until you wailed and slurred out strings of his name mixed with pathetic “please“.

He finally pulled back, letting your legs fall off his shoulders bonelessly. His hand stroked softly across the tops of your thighs, up your hip bones and across your stomach underneath your shirt. His touch felt electric after such an intense orgasm and you struggled to open your eyes.

He wiped his mouth on the back of one hand, grinning down at you.

“So you liked when I called you my dog, huh?“

[h0ney-dames]

MY OPINION ON FOOLS WEEK

These are MY opinions, the “what I expected” was written before I listened to the audio.

Slight spoilers below <3

Gavin - what I expected: utter whiplash.

What I got- a love for Gavin. Seriously if you told me on April 1st that “you're gonna love Gavin” I would have said, “Haha april foolssss, you're insane.” BUT NO. MAN WAS SEXY?! Do I just love submissive men? Lasko Moore effect ig

James - what I expected: Huxley but higher and maybe cuddles

What I got- ???? The need to piss?? Why the fuck did he talk about water so much? Mans has a smooth brain. However, I did get i love for telepaths (fuck cutie tho) tbh I was half asleep when I listened to it. I have never listened to a James audio

Milo - what I expected: spoiled whiny 10-year-old at Sephero, and an ick

What i got- OH MY GOD IM GAY IF YOU TOLD ME A WEEK AGO ID BE SIMPING FOR SPOILED VAMPIRE MILO GREER ID LAUGH. IM DOWN BADDDD. MANS GIVING ME BUTTERFLIES. GOD SAKE. NO ICK. PERFECT. ALREADY LOVE MILO NO DISRESPECT. MAN SET THE BAR FOR MY LOVE LIFE, BUT FOOLS!MILO RAISED THEM. 🤵‍♂️❤️🤵‍♂️ (me and fools milo)

Anton - what i expected: asher the remake but softer??

What I got- SINCE WHEN THE FUCK WAS THERE A RUSSIAN CHARACTER??? (Or French?) SRSLY. Never touched Anton with a 10-foot pole, the man sounds like DR.hilbert from Wolf 359, also quite literally ashers audio I'm sorry

David - what i expected: pushover, down on his knees begging for kisses and being whiny, and also a bit of shifting cus the “this is omega shit” line in his shifting audio

What I got- NO DADDY ISSUES??? NO CAR TRAUMA?!?!? WHIMPERING?! I mean I predicted the whiny one… and begging for kisses… (beg harder oo oo~) ASHER AND DAVID STILL BEING BESTIES IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE. Swear to god its the lasko moore effect… genuinely forcing this man onto his knees jkjk unless I dont want the whimpers, BUT THE PARASITES- “however you want it… however you want me..” DAVEY GOD LEAVE SOME FOR THE BEDROOMMMMMM

Special mentions!

GUY?: omg guy in the anton audio O///o HE WAS SO UNETHASTIC! YES, GUY!! GIVE US NOTHING!!!!!!!

ASHER??: ASHERS MATE CALLS HIM PUPPY ASHERS MATE CALLS HIM PUPPY ASHERS MATE CALLS HIM PU-

GABE???: GABE CALLING DAVID FOR TECH SUPPORT(???) HONESTLY THOUGH THE TALBOT PACK WAS GONNA BE SOME WEBSITE COMPANY

[ilikethisacompletelynormalamount]

Halfway through their Actors on Actors conversation, Brie Larson and Andrew Scott discover something they have in common: Neither of them is a trained actor. Larson brings up the subject almost hesitantly, to explain why she has difficulty talking about her craft. “I didn’t go to school for it,” she says. “No! I didn’t either!” Scott replies. Excitedly, Larson says: “I knew I liked you!”

Despite any self-professed deficiencies about discussing acting, Larson and Scott insightfully talk about how they each got their start at a young age, and then dive into their current television projects: his remake of “Ripley” on Netflix and her Apple TV+ limited series “Lessons in Chemistry,” which Larson also developed as an executive producer. Both shows originate from books — Patricia Highsmith’s classic thriller and Bonnie Garmus’ 2022 bestseller, respectively — and though their characters are very different (Tom Ripley is a grifter turned murderer; Elizabeth Zott is a thwarted physicist), both stand apart from society, looking in from the outside...

RIPLEY LESSONS IN CHEMISTRY ACTORS ON ACTORS

BY KATE AURTHUR

ANDREW Scott & BRIE Larson

ANDREW SCOTT: I was reading that you were shy as a kid.

BRIE LARSON: Not anymore. I’m totally fine now. I’m totally confident and cool.

SCOTT: I really related to you when I was reading that, because that’s why I started as a kid. I think there’s a slight myth about actors — that they’re very outgoing or sort of precocious. So did you ask to start acting?

LARSON: Yeah. My parents were chiropractors, and I was super shy. I wouldn’t let it go. Of course, it’s changed the course of my life in so many ways. But at a time when I was so shy and had such a hard time expressing myself, at 6 years old, I was basically given, like, “OK, here’s a script for how you have a conversation.” The actual fiber of how I understand how to have pleasant conversations with people is based upon weekly acting sessions.

SCOTT: I used to go to these drama classes on a Saturday, and I would be fully shaking before you go in. And then you’d have to get up in front of your other 7-, 8-year-olds, and do an improvisation, or say a poem or something. I don’t feel like it’s an overstatement to say that I think it’s completely changed my life — not just my career. I had a really bad lisp when I was a kid, so I had to do elocution lessons. I had to go, “He sees seashells by the seashore,” and I just completely got rid of it.

Do you feel shy now?

LARSON: I had to face myself in so many different ways; that’s part of the thing that I actually seek now. I mean, I’m so grateful that I had so much rejection growing up. It’s wild! I very much had a slow burn in my career. I’d get close to things, so I knew that I had something, but I wasn’t booking, or I’d book one job a year or something — just enough to give me hope. It gave me so much experience so that when I was given the opportunities, I was truly ready for it. I never had a time on set where I was like, “Oh, gosh. This is bigger than what I understand.” It was always, like, well paced.

SCOTT: Absolutely. People who get an awful lot of scrutiny at an early age, I think, find it harder to experiment a little bit. So it’s good that I was unemployed for so long.

LARSON: It turns out I’m so happy that it seemed like it wasn’t working out for me! Look at us now! But, yeah, when I was stalking you online, I was like, “Wow, it feels similar.”

SCOTT: Just to wrap that shyness thing up, somebody said a really brilliant thing to me, which was, like, “There’s nothing wrong with being shy. Be shy. It’s a nice thing you go a little bit red.”

LARSON: I blush very easily. It’s horrible.

SCOTT: So “Lessons in Chemistry.”

LARSON: Let’s talk about our shows.

SCOTT: She’s singular, but it’s not shyness. She’s actually quite forthright. It’s beautiful stuff. And you’ve been involved with it for …?

LARSON: I think it took two years. Maybe longer. But I think it was about two years when we started working on it to then actually filming it.

SCOTT: Are you so proud of this?

LARSON: Yeah, I think so. I’m proud of what we achieved in the time that we did. I don’t have a connection to when it goes out in the world; it just feels like then it’s not about me anymore — it’s just images and feelings. I am proud of how much we said in the show. I felt like we got a lot in it, and a really amazing group of people that worked on it. And I loved playing her.

SCOTT: Were you looking at the edit and all that kind of stuff?

LARSON: All the time. And nonstop.

SCOTT: Did you find that you were able to …

LARSON: … detach? You have to. I’m just like, “Of course I didn’t do it all right.”

SCOTT: I think there’s maybe a fear that people are going to say, “We need another close-up of me, please.”

LARSON: I felt very committed to finding what things weren’t working. Especially with a character that I also felt was very different from me, and how little she emotionally expresses.

SCOTT: I love that about it.

LARSON: I struggled with it a lot, and I felt very lost with it. I am just very used to my understanding of when something’s working — when it feels very true and I’m just in it. And I would be in it with her, but I felt like the part of me that would want to cry, for example, was being pushed. She’s always twisting the knot inside, and won’t give it to anybody.

When you’re playing Tom Ripley, what does it feel like to lie when he’s lying?

SCOTT: Well, I tried to make him lie as little as he could get away with, so that he lies in order to get himself out of a situation. And he murders to get himself out of a situation. He’s not bloodthirsty. I mean, he could have not murdered, I suppose.

LARSON: Yeah.

SCOTT: We all make that decision.

LARSON: Yeah, no, it’s a choice you make every day.

SCOTT: I suppose any of those things about him being a liar or sociopath, I found unhelpful. The kind of stuff that Tom Ripley, I suppose, is famous for as an iconic literary character — “Is he a psychopath?” or “Is he a murderer?” or whatever. But the murder-y parts — we shot it for nearly a year, and they only took up a few weeks.

LARSON: He’s mostly not murdering. I have a question about playing a character that has existed in many different iterations and forms. I feel like you have experience with that, because you do theater as well. Do you have the same approach every time, in terms of researching and watching previous versions of it? Or do you just block it out?

SCOTT: Absolutely, I block it. Because, No. 1, I adored the film “The Talented Mr. Ripley” — the Minghella movie with Matt Damon and Jude Law and Gwyneth Paltrow and all those amazing people. But mercifully, I hadn’t seen it in a very long time. One of the first conversations I had with Steven Zaillian, our writer-director, was “Why?” And he had such a singular vision for it. He wanted it a very particular way. I was worried that I was too old and blah, blah, blah — I had just a very specific idea that was based on the film.

I had to remind myself that that film was also a reiteration of something: There was another version with Alain Delon before. There were loads of different ones. So it has been reinterpreted a lot. And I feel like it’s very important that he said, “We want to age the characters up.” And he was talking about this very particular kind of noirish black-and-white vision that he had. And that made me feel very comfortable. And I always think that it’s important, because it happens in the theater so much — if it was a Shakespeare character, thousands of people have played one character. I always find that really interesting. I think the response, I suppose, is to be respectful, but not too reverent. What’s the point of doing it if you’re going to do it exactly the same way? So I didn’t look.

LARSON: What do you think about some sort of Ripley universe — into the Ripley-verse? Just all the Ripleys.

SCOTT: Like Marvel? Sort of like the Fantastic Four? Is that a thing? Oh, and they all get together?

LARSON: Yeah, Ripleys together. I’m just curious. I got a couple studios interested, so I just …

SCOTT: You do? So kind of you! You make things happen. Are you not tired? You’ve been setting up projects for me? God, you’re kind.

LARSON: No, I’m writing a part for myself as well.

SCOTT: You’d be a good Tom Ripley! 

[artistdove]

Ok so I finished the Epic Mickey Demo a while ago and here are my thoughts. I played it on the Switch. This is gonna be a bit long, sorry in advance. Gonna put a read more in case none want to be spoiled or read this, idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Graphics: Amazing. Everything has a new model even the characters, nothing looks like it was ported from the Wii and HD-ed. Though that does mean for the Switch it may glitch at times. Sometimes I would catch the models load and unload. Though some of the new models seem a bit odd when they do certain animations. Really it's Ozzy's model that had me double take. It's great, but when he puffs out his chest it looks a bit geometric instead of smooth. Idk maybe the light sources make it look bad. Mick's ears have a slight bug when the camera sticks for a bit as they are made to follow the camera. The cutscenes do seem to cut off abruptly. I was a spamming A quite a bit, but that shouldn't have caused such jumps. I only had one second of footage of the teacup ride before it cuts to the ruined Dumbo ride. Others seems too fast for the animation to fully play out too. The thinner rivers also look odd as they are brighter in color.

Animation: Flowy and sleek. Apparently, they erased the controller Mick holds in the old cutscenes. I didn't notice it. I did noticed that some of the animations looked new. They may not be, idk. I played this game on the Wii, so. But I swear, Ozzy makes a slightly different facial expression in the intro scene. The animation does feel a tad lifeless and buffered at times. It doesn't squash and stretch like it used too, heck Ozzy's shocked expression felt quite stiff. Mickey's jump animation seems floaty in how he transitions to it. I definitely notice some of the enemies get stuck in the stage animation and took a bit to gain control. The paint/thinner streaks are crazy. It either looks normal or breaks physics with how it hits objects. Breakable objects go brr cuz they put physics on those.

Sound: Sound doesn't seem to have changed drastically. I can tell there is some new sounds or ones I just never noticed. Like piano notes when Mick tip-toes. Ozzy's new little noise when he taunts Mick. New ink sounds for his movesets. Upgraded sounds for the grunts. Though, the volume is strange. In the beginning, there is like no sound. Music was definitely present, but I could barely hear the footsteps, Gus, robot, etc. I swear the machine's cranks were like blasting in the old game. It's so muffled, and I had the volume at like 25. Later, the volume was fine. Neither sound or music was out doing each other.

Gameplay: Not bad. The new movesets and dash feature is great. Buttons layout is odd, though again. I played it on the Wii so I am too used to motion controls for it. The Switch offers it, but only when you press the buttons to paint or thin. Other than that, your stuck having to aim it with the camera stick. Took me a while to get used to it. The other layouts are fine. There seems to be a new move with the Guardians on guiding them, but idk how that works. The game plays the same as usual. I will warn that when too many enemies are on screen, causes crazy lag. Most likely due to the high graphics and it being on the Switch. I got ganged up by Splatters.

Other: I can definitely tell that the game may need patch updates or something. Some parts felt behind or laggy. Wish there was more graphic options to help it run better on Switch. The motion control could have been better. I mean Skyward Sword got ported and that still functioned like it's Wii version. The new moves are neat but until the full game, I don't understand how useful they will be. The UI is neat. I understand the charm of the old ones. Least if they remake the sequal, they have those new assets. The characters icons or eh to me. Neat poster-look, but I like the 3D or sketchy style. Nice to have Gus be optional in his tips. He'll still force tips, but it's not near as often. Some stuff does seem to be missing. The only thing that comes to mind is the first pin found has no camera swirl, poor Mick just snaps his kneck. Didn't get to look at the concept art before I finished it, but nice to know you can zoom in and know who drew it. Even nicer that there is much more concept art. Menu is amazing. Sleek and easily readable. The new loading screens are great, I will be missing the old ones though. Main menu is also cool as heck.

Overall, I have hopes for this game. I am so excited to get the full release. I do feel that a tad more improvements need to be made. Probably doesn't help I have a console that has questional performance and quality, which is sad cuz Nintendo was known for that. Happy to see Ozzy be brought to a spotlight and Mickey be used again.

[heyboynotyouyou]

FNAF 2 Movie Speculations

Since it's been 3 weeks since the movie has been out and spoilers have been lifted, I'm going to talk about my idea of what could happen in the next movie; because it's quite obvious there will be a sequel because of the movie's massive success.

FNAF 2 Sequel?: The 2nd movie could be a sequel to the first. Let me explain: Since William the only owner of Freddy's and the only reason it hasn't been remade is dead that leaves other naive people to buy the place and use it. Whether it's a relative who has no idea of Freddy's and then got the location because of their name Afton or a person who isn't even related to William to begin with; this is because Vanessa is in a coma so it wouldn't go to her.

The Withereds?: I believe the Withereds will 100% come back and to explain why they are taller than before is that before the new place opened. The owner tried to remake them but because of old, worn down, damaged and outdated their servos and circuits are, they were forced to scrap it and use their parts for the toys; Freddy will still hate Mike of course because it wouldn't be fnaf without it.

The Toys: The toys will be a much bigger threat to Mike and Abby due to the fact that they are not possessed, so they will identify Mike either as an threat due to his past acts of violence towards people or their criminal system gets tampered by someone behind the scenes in debatable. This could mean more gruesome kills because I doubt the toys will have any sort of humanity in them, probably ripping part pieces of other people or the withereds.

Flashback scene?: I believe we will get more backstory on William and the place back in the 80s in the form of Flashbacks. How you may ask? By Vanessa, since she is in a coma this could bring in opportunities of seeing how William was like in the past. Also as a way to bring back Elizabeth Lail, they could do what they did to Mike and have her at some moments replace her kid version. Whether she wakes up to become Vanny because she can only remember William's good parts or his conditioning is all on the table.

New Characters?: If Vanessa does become absent to the main story of the movie, I would like to see some new characters, whether they may be important or not. First off on the list is Charlie, I could see her being an important character, replacing Vanessa in this movie. She could be a mechanic or technician for the newly established Fazbear Entertainment who works on the toys but feels a slight connection with the older models. She meets Mike maybe when he comes a night guard or day guard for the place? Yeah who knows I haven't thought that far ahead. Of course she wouldn't be a robot or a ghost possessing a body but let's be honest Scott might only put her as a reference.

Now for my second character I could see possibility happening is Gregory, since now we know that security breach characters are not off the table. Of course you would need to get rid of him having any interaction with security breach all together but keep him being a lost kid/orphan who breaks into the location but instead of the mall, it's the fnaf 2 location. Also adding him in can bring in another kid character for Abby to interact with. I know people hate him but what other kid characters can you think of that isn't dead?

Shadow Freddy may return and Max as well, maybe she becomes a babysitter to the missing children? Who knows, there really isn't a lot to speculate so I'll leave it off with that.

Oh yeah one more, Henry but not the same Henry no no; Henry Schmidt that's right what if Mike's dad is actually Henry. So far there's no solid proof that Mike's dad is Henry but there is some speculation that the technician in the tape could be him; even if they are different actors. But it is confirmed that he is still alive, he just left his family behind. If he does return, make him appear at the end and then make him a focus in the last and final sequel to the series. Another thing if he does return in the 3rd film, I hope Mike and Henry have a huge tension between them because of Henry leaving him and Abby and forcing Mike to step up as a father figure.

As for references: Toy Golden Freddy, Cassidy perhaps?, if Charlie isn't important maybe have her appear with a group of friends from the Silver Eyes, this would include Jessica, Carlton, and John and if Scott really want to go ham add in Marla, Jason and Lamarr. Also perhaps Dave? Not sure I'll let the community decide on what references there should be in the next film.

That's all I got for now, maybe I'll make a part 2 if if I ever get more ideas, tootles.

[sapphire-weapon]

You said that part of the fun of old fandom was making backstories for the characters. did you have one for Leon? what was it?

oh boy. this feels so... self-indulgent and cringey now in modern-day fandom, after having dedicated so much time to arguing what is or isn't canon and having to explain multiple times, at great lengths, that the mafia backstory is not canon and why it's not. my brain is just like "shut up and just be glad that people are starting to listen to you at all."

I've mentioned a few of them here and there sporadically over the past few months, so some of these are going to sound very familiar to people who have been following me for a while, but

this is basically the backstory I've come up with for Leon and have been using for mmmm around 20 years, give or take (though I tweaked some slight things to account for Remake Leon, which I'll also note):

● grew up in a suburb around the Hartford, CT area

● only child

● very religious/uptight Catholic mom, dad was basically Mike Cosgrove from Freakazoid

● like seriously, the personalities of his parents couldn't be more different, to the point where it almost doesn't make sense to anyone on the outside looking in how they ended up together at all. but his mom really loves how stable and grounded her husband is and appreciates his really awful sense of humor, and dad fell in love with his wife's cooking and the way she actually laughs at his jokes and the fact that she really believes in something greater than herself -- because he doesn't, and he wishes he did. they also share a taste in music, surprisingly.

● "Scott" is a family name, but Leon's dad was already "the third" and he was like "you really wanna put this kid through being 'the fourth'? that's stupid. just make it his middle name." Leon has never told a single person in his adult life this, but his parents and his very early childhood friends (up until about middle school) actually called him "Scottie" -- because "Scott" was his dad. (yes this headcanon was born directly from how funny I find the whole "Mr. Scott Kennedy" shit in OG RE4 and I'm not sorry) mom's name is Carol.

● mom was a middle school geography teacher (and CCD teacher). dad was a cop (he was bASICALLY COSGROVE)

● was always closer with his dad than his mom, despite the fact that his mom very clearly and very desperately wanted him to be a mama's boy. it wouldn't be quite correct to say that his mom was emotionally abusive, but she definitely didn't Get Him and very rarely actually listened to what he had to say -- she had a pre-constructed image in her head of the kind of person she wanted him to be, and anything that didn't fit that image was either questioned or ignored outright. (NOTE FOR REMAKE-VERSE LEON: this was even worse for Remake Leon, who has a lot more self-awareness than his OG counterpart and started to suspect that he may not be fully straight pretty early in life, even if his conservative upbringing didn't give him the language to express what, exactly, he was feeling. he had a crush on a boy once, vaguely mentioned it in a very roundabout way to his mom, and then spent the next like 10 years convinced he was going to hell. see here for a more in-depth explanation of how I view Leon's sexuality.) dad gave far less of a shit about who his kid was, so long as he wasn't doing dumb shit to get himself in trouble or arrested or something. as a result, Leon's really stupid sense of humor came from his dad, because they did spend a decent amount of time together. the two of them + Leon's uncle (dad's brother), who was maybe a little bit off his rocker, always went hunting once a year.

● was never super religious like his mom is, but still definitely believed. didn't pray regularly -- but prayed enough. he can pinpoint the exact moment that he lost his faith, though: when, while in Raccoon City, he first considered suicide -- and he realized that he was looking not to God for salvation, but to his gun. even as an adult, he won't outwardly classify himself as an atheist, but his general feelings towards God and faith are: "if God is up there, He's not listening anymore."

● wasn't ever super popular in school, but was never an outcast loser nerd, either. he was just kind of... there. he had his own little circle of skater kid/grungecore and metalhead friends, and they just kind of did their own thing.

● didn't actually start to get hot until senior year of high school and kind of thought that people were taking the piss when they started looking at him differently after he'd been so completely ignored as a dating/sexual prospect for so long. plus he had a girlfriend by then, and they'd been together for a while, so he didn't really think too hard about how other people were looking at him, anyway.

● he and his long-term high school girlfriend broke up before they both went off to college, mutually, just because they were going to different schools. (NOTE FOR REMAKE-VERSE LEON: OG Leon lost his virginity to that girlfriend at age 16; Remake Leon didn't. the Remake version of his girlfriend was too prudish to go all the way, but third base was a familiar friend.) this was to the great relief of the girlfriend's dad, who fucking hated Leon's guts and frequently told him that he would never marry his daughter (and once chased him out of the house with a shotgun, but that's a different story).

● played lacrosse in high school. didn't love it, mostly did it to put on college applications. actually wanted to play football, but his mom was adamant about not allowing him to (AND SHE WAS SUPER RIGHT HOLY SHIT DON'T LET YOUR KIDS PLAY AMERICAN FOOTBALL).

● dabbled in some arts stuff here and there in high school and college, but never in a serious way and never for any great length of time. he was more of a math nerd than anything else. but he spent like, half of a school year involved with the lit mag and, despite being a not terrible poet and short story author due to having an inherently romantic nature, dropped it pretty fast out of disinterest. tried being involved with the school paper, dropped that within a year due to disinterest. thought about picking up the guitar because some of his friends were musicians, but never committed to it. the only thing that ever stuck was an interest in film; he spent a decent amount of time in the A/V club and really enjoyed the editing process. probably would've majored in it in college if not for his far greater interest in criminal justice, so he just kept doing it on the side for fun. took some electives for it in college, at the very least, and worked on some student films. mostly horror films, which is ironic to him in hindsight.

● did not go into criminal justice because of his dad; it's just a coincidence that he ended up being interested in the same field that his dad worked. Leon has always had a problem with bullies and was that guy in high school who inserted himself into situations that didn't involve him, just to stand up for someone else. got in only a handful of fist fights as a result of this, and the extent of the scolding from his dad was "knock it off. quit screwin around. you screw around too much." in the most non-committal, "don't actually stop though" tone possible, followed by taking him to get burgers. his mom lost her mind any time he got sent home from school for fighting, though -- and the one time he actually ended up suspended was Literal Hell for that full week. but, either way -- for him, growing up with a very positive opinion of law enforcement to begin with, criminal justice seemed like a natural fit.

● beyond the few times he got in trouble for fighting (in fights he never started and always won), the worst trouble he ever got into was that time his mom found out that he and his friends snuck beer into a Green Day concert in 1994. that was also the first time she learned that her 17-year-old son was already drinking. he got grounded until graduation.

● overall was just a pretty good kid, though. constantly on honor roll. graduated college with a 3.7 GPA.

● mostly behaved in college, too, but he definitely went out and partied when he didn't have anything school-related to worry about. OG Leon partied way more frequently and way harder than Remake Leon did, though. OG Leon dragged his dick all over campus. Remake Leon had maybe a handful of drunken hookups (that still never actually got him laid) and spent most parties being that guy who was taking care of his much drunker friends. catch Remake Leon standing over one of his friends who has their face planted in the sand at a beach party like "hey man. you good? we can't leave yet. I gotta finish this beer." Remake Leon also made an excellent wingman.

● after getting hired at the RPD but before actually able to move out there (in late August, roughly), he did go out to Raccoon City to try to land an apartment so that he'd be ready once he actually did move. he filmed most of that week-long trip in a sort of self-documentary style and edited it all together with the intention of giving it to his parents before he left, in case they started to miss him -- so that they could see where he was and who he'd likely be hanging around with and all that stuff, because he is a Good Boy. he ultimately never finished the very last part of it because of the phone call he got to stay away from the city a week prior to his move, and he soon forgot he'd ever made something like that at all. his mom found it a few months later while cleaning up his room, which she did frequently as a grief response "so that it'll be ready for him when he comes home."

● to date, Leon's family and friends from back home think he died in Raccoon City. the CIA kept a tight leash on where he went and who he spoke to for the first four years of his captivity -- he basically didn't get freedom to live his own life until after Operation Javier. by the time he had the ability to call or visit home, he felt like it was too late -- that it'd be crueler to show up out of the blue after being "dead" for so long -- especially considering that he couldn't stay in their lives. he'd basically just be showing up to say "hey not dead" and then have to disappear again. so he just sort of... let it go. though, of all of the terrible things he's done in the time since then, this is the one thing that weighs heaviest on his conscience -- the one thing that he feels guiltiest about most often. but he continues to stay away, because he has nothing kind to say about the life he's lived or the man he's become. even if he were to go home now, he's convinced that his parents would not recognize their son.

● he doesn't know this, but there is an upright grave marker for him in a cemetery in his hometown dated 1977-1998. buried there is an empty casket with only a framed photo of him. his parents still lay flowers there twice a year: once on his birthday and once on the anniversary of Raccoon City's destruction.