#too much Dickinson is bad for you

[scatteredlightevenbeam]

[melrodrigo]

friends? p.2

Cairo Sweet x Fem Reader

Summary: A rivalry between you and Cairo has been going on for several months…what does it take for her to finally break?

Warnings: there r literally none they bicker like an old couple and cairos mean

Word Count: 2k+

A/n: helloooo i’m not sure abt this chapter but lmk what u thought, i cranked this out in its entirety last night, enjoy!

part 1

Friendship was not Cairo Sweet's strong suit. Ask her about Dickinson or Austen or Shakespeare—these were all things she could answer. But the ultimate question of friendship was not something hot on Cairo's mind.

She didn't need it, that was her take. And why would she waste time on something she didn't need?

Friends, much less a partner, was something she never saw for herself. The thought of being a housewife, living in a picture-perfect picket fence house, appalled her. The only things that mattered were her, her writing, and Yale.

So when a certain girl had entered her life, she hated it.

You.

You with your stupid face, and pretty hair, she hated you. A burning passion so intense it heated up her heart and made it race. So intense that she wanted to punch you in the face whenever you passed, only to bandage it up with feather light touches so she could punch you again harder.

At first it was nothing; she didn't have a thing to worry about. A blushing face while you stammered and fumbled around trying to give Mr. Miller an answer, she disregarded you as someone she could respect immediately.

But obviously she had caught you on a bad day, because after those first few weeks, you managed to present yourself in a less idiotic way.

You were, surprisingly smart.

Almost too smart, she pondered. It was getting in the way of her own studies. How could it be, that someone was on bar (never better) than her?

Often she found herself seething at you, arguing at every chance she had with your answers; but, you had given her the same treatment as well.

It wasn't strange for your classes to end in heated debate, both sides failing to yield. It bothered her greatly. She went back home and read more than she'd ever read before, studied just a few minutes longer because she could feel you taunting her.

"Sweet." You nodded, as she pushed open the doors to Millers class. You'd made it a habit to arrive early, leaving only you and her for a good thirty minutes before everyone else arrived.

It was infuriating. To have you so close, open, ready to harm, yet she could do nothing. She'd been having a particularly grueling week. Her parents had just come back from Brazil; and, always seemed to be ready to go at her throat. Gone were her lonely but comforting nights on her bed, candle-lit. Now it was just fights and condescending jabs.

"What did you get on the paper?" Your voice piped up, breaking her from her train of thought. You were referring to the paper Mr.Miller had given back last week, one that counted for forty percent of the grade.

She felt a swell of pride. Scores were something she could argue about. This would take off the stress she'd been building.

"99." She smirked, cocking her head to the side.

You whistled approval, nodding adamantly. Even though there was nothing to suggest so, she could swear she felt condescension in your tone.

She was good at picking out stuff like that. The roll of someone's tongue, the way they smack their lips—it all meant something to her.

She pursed her lips, narrowing her eyes. "What did you get?" She asked, brows furrowed.

You didn't say anything, simply holding up a finger and mouthing 'one hundo' and watched as disbelief took over her features.

"You're fucking lying." She seethed. Her good mood had suddenly disappeared just as fast as it had appeared.

You spun around in your seat, stupid smile on your face. God, she wanted to jump at you and claw it off.

"Hey, hey, it's okay to be mad. You can't be the best at everything." You told her, hands behind your head.She gripped the desk harder, knuckles turning a faint white.

She stood up, walking over to your desk."You little shi-"

"Good morning, the both of you!" Mr.Miller interrupted, cheery smile. His enthusiasm radiated off his body like rays radiated from the sun. He stopped short when he saw Cairo stalking close to you, a clear pout on her face.

"What are you doing?" He asked, question directed towards her, voice sickly sweet. He had grown fond of Cairo since the beginning of the term; she was his favorite student.

"I'd like her to be removed from the class. Can't you do that Mr.Miller?" She avoided his question, tilting her face at an angle where her chocolate colored eyes shone bright.

His white brows furrowed, not quite comprehending. "You mean," He started, "right now...?"

Bless him, he had no clue how manipulative Cairo was.

She doesn't let up, doesn't let her disappointment show. You notice it in the slight clench of her jaw--she's annoyed.

"I meant for the rest of the term, I can't stand being in the same class as her." She emphasized her words with a glare in your direction. You send her a sweet smile back.

"Please, flattery will get you nowhere." You winked, smile turning into a real one when you see her get visibly agitated.

"Please, girls. Let's be civil here all right?" Mr.Miller pipes up, trying to stand in between Cairo and you. It does nothing to lessen the tension in the air.

He turns slightly to Cairo, voice firm. "And no...I won't kick Y/N out."

The childish part of you desperately wants to fist pump the air; but, the more serious side of you decides maybe you shouldn't do that in the company of your arch nemesis.

Class turns weird fast. Cairo—normally quick and adamant—stays quiet, seemingly distracted by the simplest of things: a bird singing softly from a window, the great big forests where her house stood, the sound of your feet continuing to scrape against the carpet.

It irks you a little. It has you not listening in class, wanting to focus on the girl in front of you.

You almost don't hear it when Miller announces that you'll be working in pairs for the midterm project, preoccupied with her bobbling head, moving as if she were listening to some imaginary music.

"You will not be able to pick your own partner, that's already been done for...by me." He adds, after hearing the onslaught of voices from the students. It's clear he's not changing his mind.

"Alright. When I call your names, go sit with your pair and discuss how you'll do the assignment. Olivia, Taylor." He calls out the first pair, going down (what seems like) an endless list of names, never quite getting to yours.

You watch as countless people move around, silently looking out for who hasn't been called yet. You needed to get a good grade on this, and a lazy partner was going to be a nightmare.

You strain your ears to hear Mr.Miller over the commotion of students moving, but when you turn to squint at him you're surprised to see he's already looking at you.

A sinking feeling eats your entire being whole as you watch his mouth move. He points his finger at you, then someone in front of you.

Cairo Sweet.

Fuck.

Even though you loved to tease her, you did not need to have Cairo Sweet as your partner. She was likely to ruin you before you even got to starting the thing.

You don't make the first move to get up, instead you sit dumbly in your chair, bracing yourself.

Your peace is disrupted by a huff from above you. There she is.

"Move over. I need a seat." She says, something in her voice making you oblige. She pulls over an extra chair and sits by the other end of the table.

"You can come closer ya know." You say, unsure of how friendly to be. You'd only ever really spoke with her from a distance, a comfortable distance. Now that she's up in your personal space you feel ike you're going to suffocate.

She ignores you, pursing her lips as she listens to Miller explain the project.

You inch your chair closer, prepared to make a sly jab at the way she's being a teachers pet, but her stare—which has now been redirected on you—stops you in your tracks. She looks scary.

Lips downturned, nostrils flaring, you're a bit taken aback.

"Okay jeez. You don't have to be such an ass about it." You mumble, distancing yourself a great deal further than you already were. The mood, if it weren't enough already, turns more sour.

She ignores your suggestions and remarks on how to do the project, scribbling something down on to her notepad every now and then.

"Earth to you, Sweet. Are you listening to me?" You press, starting to feel those tendrils of annoyance grabbing you. It was one thing to be an ass, but to put her own feelings above doing good work was low, even for her.

Especially for her, you think.

"Do you ever shut up?" She growls, biting her cheeks so hard you could see the indent it was making on the outside.

"Okayyy...someone's obviously going through something, but can we just-" You gesture to the sheet of paper on the table, you haven't even been allowed to look at what she's written yet.

"I am NOT going through something." She says again, voice cracking. The sound brings forth a peculiar reaction in you, your mouth hanging open. Her eyes look...watery.

Before you can utter a word she's getting up and storming out the classroom, making heads turn left and right at the loud noise.

"Um...I'll be right back too." You say, sending Mr.Miller a cheeky smile and a wink, hoping that'll lessen his curiousity enough to not come out after the two of you.

You push open the doors, call Cairos' name a couple times.

You eventually find her outside, back pressed against the brick wall. She's lighting up a cigarette.

Her body language looks more calm now, but you're not sure what to do. You shuffle on your feet, twiddling your thumbs.

"Sorry I did that." She speaks, not turning to look at you. It startles you a bit, you hadn't realized she saw you.

"Cairo Sweet saying sorry? I must be dreaming." You try, although you're not smiling and she doesn't laugh. Humor seems to be sucked away in this little bubble belonging to only the two of you.

You move a little closer, then even closer when Cairo doesn't object. Even though you did hate her to the bone, you wanted to make sure she was okay.

"Are you...alright?" You ask softly, watching her face for an answer. She seems to be deep in thought.

She takes a swing from her cigarette and blows. "I don't like you." Is what she says.

The ice breaks. You no longer feel like you're supposed to pity her. This was Cairo Sweet, her heart was made of coal.

"Yeah I think we established that. Anything else?" You sigh, leaning back so you're also pressed up against the wall.

She turns to you, and for the first time, she doesn't seem very mad.

"I don't like you." She says again, moving closer. It's in your natural instinct to step back, why was she being so weird? Was she going to hurt you?

She grips your shoulder lightly, enough for you to get the message to stay still.

"I don't  like you." Cairo mutters for the third time, eyes piercing into yours. She seems to be speaking a little lower, a little raspier than normal. Cogs seem to be turning in her head, debating and debating and debating.

Debating on what you can't be certain.

"I get it, you don't like me. So what?" You mummur, voice lower than normal. The proximity is making your mind feel a little clouded.

You try not to let your gaze drift down to her lips, but when there's nothing around to distract yourself with, they do.

Her freckles, the ones that litter her face. You get the disgusting urge to touch them.

"So...don't get the wrong idea." She says before taking your lips in a kiss.

It takes you a second to comprehend what's really happening. You stand frigid, mouth parting to gasp. You're gasp is swallowed by her own lips, soft and supple.

Once Cairo feels that you aren't responding, she pulls away, frightened look on her face. Pink lips downturned, her cheeks a rosy red. You don't have time to process what the right move is. For now, you don't need Cairo thinking you didn't like whatever that was.

You reach for her neck, pull her in for a second kiss. It's somehow better than the first. She responds quick, hands wandering to cup your face, then down to circle your waist, then up to tangle in your hair—like she's changing her own mind too quick.

You let her take the lead, pressing you into the wall with a strength you didn't know she possessed.

You're too lost in it all, the smell of her shampoo, the feeling of her teeth scraping your lips, biting down only the slightest, her fingers burning traces wherever they go.

"Sweet." You breathe, coming out more like a soft moan than you would've liked.

She breaks apart from you, a wild mess. You think she's never looked prettier, hair everywhere, lips torn from your heated kisses.

Her eyes are soft until they flash and something else takes over. It's as if your voice had brought her back to life.

"I don't like you." She snarls, and promptly turns on her heels, just a slight increase in speed than her normal strut.

You're left breathless, staring out into the green plains. Mind and heart racing, you're not sure which organ you should listen to.

The implication of what you did hits you like a freight train. You groan and press your hands to your head, willing and willing and willing for a solution to come out of it.

Not to anyones surprise, nothing comes. A magic fairy doesn't tell you what to do, and you're still standing behind school panting.

"Oh god."

[roosterforme]

Covering the Classics Part 2 | Bob Floyd x OC

Summary: Anna knows her new coworkers want her to meet their friend Bob. But she's too hesitant, afraid to get herself in a situation where she's pining after someone new. During a spur of the moment shopping trip, Bob is delighted to bump into a woman he can only describe as adorable. Too bad he's never been great at the follow through.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, eventually 18+

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)

Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more! Thank you to @mak-32 for the beautiful banner!

By the end of her first week teaching, Anna had learned many things, almost like she was a student herself. That nice, secluded ladies' restroom she found was secluded because one of the toilets regularly overflowed. The coffee in the teacher's lounge was actually disgusting, but the donuts were available every day. And Dr. Pham from the sociology department asked her out three times on Thursday, apparently because she wore her hair in two braids like Princess Anna from Frozen, a mistake she wouldn't be making again.

And she was so tired. She started to lose her voice on Friday morning from how much she had to talk in her lectures. She took the wrong notes to class with her and had to improvise an hour long class on Emily Dickinson, because she was too afraid to give one of her students the keys to her office door. So she sweated it out, but managed to sound somewhat coherent as she dismissed her class at noon.

She pressed her lips together. If she ran to get her sandwich and peanuts really quickly, she could join her new friends by the weird tree. After two days of joining them for lunch, she really liked both of them. She just didn't want to get their hopes up about their friend Bob whom she was supposedly perfect for.

Anna wasn't perfect for anybody. And frankly this Bob guy sounded like a dreamboat, which just made it worse. He'd probably laugh after taking one look at her, and if she opened her mouth and tried to talk to him, he'd run away scared. She already turned down their invitation to go to the Navy hangout bar on Saturday night, citing that she was too exhausted. But it was really because she needed to stand firm with herself and do everything she could to protect her feelings from now on. 

After another few seconds of contemplation, she went to her office and got her lunch before heading to the quad. But today it was just Jessica there eating lasagna and garlic bread from a plastic container while Anna's stomach growled in jealousy. 

"Hi," she greeted after she chewed up a bite of her perfect looking lunch. "It's just us today. Dr. Rosenthal apparently had a bunch of questions about the math curriculum and took Advanced Calculus out for a long working lunch at Covewood."

Anna had barely been in the city for more than two weeks, but even she had heard of Covewood. "That's a five star restaurant. A romantic date night hot spot."

"Mmhmm," Jessica agreed as she sunk her perfect teeth into the garlic bread.

Anna realized her own experience was fueling her next sentences, but she said them anyway. "Isn't she married? Her husband is okay with that?" she asked softly.

Advanced Physics burst into laughter. "Bradley loves Dr. Rosenthal. He's in his seventies, and he's one of the sweetest people at the school. They have him over for dinner sometimes. He actually did my tenure review."

"Oh," Anna replied, embarrassed that she could hardly relate to someone who trusted their spouse. "That actually sounds really nice."

"Hey, are you sure you don't want to come out tomorrow night? No pressure. I just think you'd have a fun time. The guys are all sweethearts."

Anna looked down at herself and her sad sandwich. She didn't even have money to spare for a beer that she would probably drink half of before she wanted to leave. And it didn't matter if the guys were sweet, she knew her two new friends would be champing at the bit to see how she and this Bob person interacted. "Not this weekend," she replied. "Maybe another night."

Instead of socializing, she spent her Saturday window shopping in North Park. She had a budget of exactly zero dollars, but she could entertain herself for hours this way. She gasped when she found a two story bookshop that claimed it contained new and used and rare finds, and she ran across the street to get to it. 

It was darker and quieter inside than the sunlit, traffic filled streets, and when Anna took a deep breath, it reminded her of a cozy library. The clerk behind the register waved instead of speaking, so really, it just kept getting better. When she noticed the wooden sign on the wall informing her that The Classics were upstairs, she made her way up the creaky steps to a loft area with row after row of tall shelves. 

"Perfect," she muttered, walking to the end of the open space and turning down the last tight row of bookshelves. She wasn't alone, but the only other occupant was a tall, slim man with broad shoulders and tidy, sandy colored hair. He seemed to be so absorbed by what he was reading, he didn't look up when Anna reached for an enormous copy of Shakespeare plays.

She almost moaned out loud; it was annotated and contained every play she had to teach in her Thursday morning English 300 class. It was well worn, and the cover felt nice in her hands. Shit. Of course it was seventy bucks. That was more than she spent on groceries last week. Maybe she could expense it to the department? She should probably know how to do that. Maybe she could text one of her new friends and ask if that was allowed. 

But she slid the book back into place as a Vonnegut she didn't yet own caught her eye. She reached out for it with a steady hand, but as soon as her fingertips met the spine, a much larger hand, complete with graceful yet calloused fingers, wrapped around hers. Everything suddenly smelled clean like soap and also intriguingly like tea leaves. And then she heard a voice next to her ear that made her bite down on her lip as a ripple of pleasure teased her spine. 

"Oh. I'm so sorry."

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

Bob had never been to this store before, and he wasn't really planning on stopping by today, but Mickey dragged him in and then ditched him for the children's section at the back of the store. Bob looked around downstairs, but as a poetry fan, he found that section to be seriously lacking, so he headed up to the loft instead.

He considered himself well-read until he realized how many classic novels he'd never even heard of before. And they all sounded really depressing. Which was kind of the point, he supposed, but if he was going to get something new to read, he was in the mood for a more upbeat story. Maybe a romance or a European adventure he could get lost in. Maybe a sweeping, romantic tale where the nice guy gets the girl for once. 

After several tries, he still wasn't finding anything close to what he was hoping for. As he re-shevled The Bell Jar, he decided to just reach for a book at random. Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut? Maybe that would be more his speed. But when he reached for it, his fingers wrapped around a soft hand complete with glossy, burgundy fingernails instead of the actual book. He jumped an inch in the air, because he hadn't even been aware anyone else was in the aisle with him, let alone a woman who smelled like sweet perfume.

"Oh. I'm so sorry," he stammered, already mortified. Then she turned to look at him over her shoulder, and he wanted to jump off the loft railing and run out the shop door. There was only one word to accurately describe her: adorable. She had dark red hair done up in a messy braid, big brown eyes, and a smattering of freckles across her nose. "Oh."

"It's okay," she replied softly as she tried to hand him the book. "You can have it."

He shook his head, completely distracted, as he kept finding more things about her face that he liked. A grin curled along his lips as he said, "No, it's all yours. Really. I was just looking for something new to read."

She glanced down at the cover and then back at his face, and maybe he was imagining things, but it looked like she was blushing a bit. "Wow. I wasn't really expecting anyone else to be interested in reading a sarcastic take on global destruction on a sunny Saturday afternoon."

His eyebrows shot up. "Is that what it's about?"

Her laughter was also adorable. "Yeah, I mean... it's Vonnegut," she said with a bit of an eye roll. Oh no. She knew what she was talking about, and he kind of didn't. He was probably about to sound like an idiot. 

Bob cleared his throat and pointed at a random spine to buy himself time. "What's this one about?"

She cocked her head slightly to the side and said, "Two murders and a kidnapping."

"Oh," he said with a little laugh. "No thanks. How about this one?"

He wasn't even looking at the books now at all, preferring to watch her facial expression change as she checked another title. "Oh, that one's good. Also about murder."

He chuckled and pointed at another. "This one?"

She smirked and looked up at him. "Jealousy, rage, hatred, and also a lot of murder."

"Wow," Bob replied with what he was sure was a stupid looking smile. "I was hoping for something a little tamer? Perhaps less murder-y? Maybe I should go down and look in the children's section?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and listened to her laugh again.

"I could recommend a few books with little to no murder. Maybe even a happy ending," she told him, and he watched as she pushed her braid over her shoulder. 

"I'll believe it when I see it," he said as he crossed his arms over his chest. To his shock and amazement, her gaze followed his movement, and her blush returned.

When her tongue darted out between her lips, Bob could feel his heart beating in his temples. Her brown eyes drifted back up to his face, and he wondered if this was how Jake or Bradley used to feel when girls paid attention to them at the bar. It was decidedly really exciting. 

He was going to be bold like his friends. He was going to ask her for her number. Maybe he'd see if she wanted to help him shop for some books, and he could buy her that horrible Vonnegut that she wanted, and then he'd ask her very nicely for her number. 

"Floyd!"

Bob watched you jump as Mickey's voice echoed through the store.

"Floyd! Let's go!"

"S-Sorry," Bob muttered, stepping past her and heading for the loft railing. "Just... hang on for one second?"

As soon as Mickey looked up and saw him, he said, "We gotta go, man. I got some books for my nephews, but we'll be late to grab a drink before D&D if we don't leave now. You know how she gets when we're late." He was shaking a bag of books and heading for the door.

Bob did know for a fact that Jessica got annoyed when they showed up late because they got hungry or distracted on the way to The Hard Deck. "Just give me a minute," he told Mickey, but he was already outside. 

He swiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and turned around to find the aisle empty. Oh no. He checked the next row of shelves, and the next, and the next, until he got all the way to the stairs, but the adorable redhead was nowhere to be found. And he had no idea what her name was. 

"Hello?" he called out softly, checking each aisle again until he was back where he started. Bob might have believed that he imagined the whole entire exchange with an attractive woman, except that there was one book propped up against the others right where he and she had been standing. 

"A Room With a View by E. M. Forster," he mumbled as he picked it up and turned it over in his hands. He glanced around again, but she was well and truly gone, leaving nothing except for what seemed like a book recommendation. 

"Floyd!"

Bob sighed and tipped his head back in frustration. "Coming!"

He descended the stairs slowly, head swiveling in every direction, searching for brown eyes and a braid while he held the book. Gone. He paid for A Room With a View and headed outside to find Mickey looking quite annoyed. What he didn't see was the mystery girl watching him from the far end of the loft.

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

"She was real," Bob insisted as he held his glass of ginger ale a little tighter. "Just because you were too busy yelling doesn't mean I made her up in my mind. She had red hair and brown eyes."

Mickey gave him a skeptical look. "That's actually a really rare combination. And I know for a fact you happen to have an excellent imagination, my friend."

Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Why didn't I ask for her name and number?" Then he paused. "You know what? It doesn't even matter. There's no way she would have agreed to give it to me." 

He thought about the book he bought sitting on the front seat of his truck next to his dice bag and character sheet, and he considered just going home for the night. Maybe he could start to read the book. Maybe he'd feel like writing.

Then he felt an arm slip around his waist. "Hi, Jessica," he said as he blushed when he looked down at Jake's petite girlfriend. A second later, Bradley's wife was next to him as well, and Bob realized they were wearing matching smirks.

"Hey, Bob," Jessica replied, giving him a little squeeze. "We were just wondering if you happened to like redheads."

Mickey snickered before he tipped his beer bottle back and finished the drink. "He loves them. Daydreams about them."

Bob shot him a withering look. "She was real."

"Who was real?" Bradley's wife asked as her husband came up behind her and set his chin on her shoulder. Great, now he was going to have a full audience of people informed about his embarrassing afternoon of not even knowing how to ask a woman what her name was.

"There was a cute girl at the bookstore in North Park earlier," he muttered. "She had red hair, and I fumbled the ball."

Bradley chuckled. "You know what your problem is, right? You're too nice. Sugar met me when I was an absolute fuckboy, and she fell hard."

"I've been having a decade long lapse of judgement," she replied, and Bradley kissed her neck. "Don't listen to him, Bob. Girls love nice guys."

But Bob knew they didn't. Even the woman from the bookstore dodged him after approximately five minutes of flirting. If you could even call that flirting. He finished his ginger ale, and said, "We need to go. It's almost time for D&D. I'll drive."

Mickey nodded and said, "I'm ready." He could probably tell Bob had reached his limit with this conversation. His friend may be an extrovert to the extreme, but he was good at recognizing when Bob needed a break.

Jessica nodded as well and patted him on the chest before she pranced off into Jake's open arms. They shared the most adorable looking kisses before Jake straightened out her glasses and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Have her home by midnight, Bob!" he called as he released her. 

Bob nodded wishing there was someone besides the elderly woman who lived in the duplex next to him that cared if he was out past midnight or not. Even though he always looked forward to playing Dungeons & Dragons, he kind of wanted to head home and call it an early night. Nothing sounded as good as sending an email to Nat before reading his new book. But he would wait until later, and maybe he would even be in the mood to get his laptop out.

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

Anna went back to her studio apartment empty handed. Well, that wasn't quite true. She didn't buy any books, but she did splurge on a six dollar bottle of wine which would probably taste disgusting. She just hoped it would help her sleep through the night after reading some sad poetry and eating a piece of toast for dinner. 

That guy from the bookstore was going to linger in her mind for a long time whether she wanted him to or not. She was more attracted to him after five minutes in his presence than she was to Kevin at any point in the past five years. And if she was going to start thinking about Kevin, she was probably going to cry. 

The toast was good, but the wine was bad. And she did cry a little bit. She was never going to get attached to the idea of being in a relationship ever again. She was never going to have herself that level of intimacy just to have it ripped away. She wouldn't allow it. Relying on herself would have to be enough. Handsome strangers with muscular, veiny arms and cute glasses who made her laugh were not part of the plan. That's why she ducked behind the end cap after she left him a book she thought he might like. She watched him buy it for himself, which left her almost breathless. If she allowed herself to, she could picture him sitting in a coffee shop sipping some tea and reading that book.

"Enough," she whispered, vision a little sloppy from the wine. She opened up the website called PoetsAmongUs, read a bookmarked collection about how good it would feel to be loved completely, and passed out. 

The realization that she was going to have to spend all of Sunday afternoon getting ready for the week was made slightly easier by the fact that she only had four hundred square feet of space to clean. And then she thought about the beautiful home she once had in New Jersey, and she had to finish the bottle of wine to help her get through her notes on The Great Gatsby.

She was still thinking about that hot guy with the glasses on Monday when she grabbed a donut from the teacher's lounge. Indulging in a little fantasy here and there about being loved and cared for wouldn't be so bad. And putting his face to it just made it even sexier. When she wasn't teaching, she let her mind wander to some possibilities that would never happen again. Pretty eyes, lean muscles, soft looking hair, pink cheeks. He probably had nice friends, too. He probably never cheated on anything in his life.

"Hey, Anna? Are you alright?"

She looked up from her bag of peanuts and realized she'd been so deep in thought, she wasn't paying attention to the lunch conversation. "I'm sorry," she replied, fighting the urge to groan. She wasn't very good at this stuff and should have probably just eaten lunch in her office like she did the past few days. The fact that it was Wednesday and she was still distracted was concerning to her. 

"Don't apologize. You just seem lost in thought," said Jessica as she ate another perfect looking lunch. 

"Do you want some chips and hummus? Bradley packed me too much food today," her other friend said. And of course he did, because he sounded like a damn dream.

Anna ate a few chips and sighed. "Have either of you ever had your heart smashed to bits?" She didn't really mean to say that out loud, but now that she had, she was met with an awkward silence that she wanted to run away from. 

"Yeah," Advanced Calculus replied softly. "And I did it to myself."

"Not my heart as much as my hopes and dreams," Advanced Physics added. "But for me, I think that was much worse."

Now the silence that followed wasn't quite as painful, but Anna was still a little embarrassed. "Yeah. All of the above." She cleared her throat and tried to think of something else to talk about, but her mind was still on the bookstore. "Hey, why didn't you tell me that San Diego is full of hot guys? They are literally everywhere. I went window shopping in North Park and got sucked into a bookstore, and I bumped into a guy with glasses who smelled so nice."

"Ohhh, what did he look like?"

Anna sighed. "You know how you can just tell a guy is really strong even though he doesn't have bulging muscles?"

"Mmhmm."

"He was like that." Anna bit into her sandwich and chewed it slowly. "Pretty eyes, kind of the color of a lake. Sandy hair. Wire glasses. Soft spoken. He smelled like a cup of tea." 

A few seconds later, she was snapped back from her drifting thoughts as Advanced Calculus asked, "Did you say this was at a bookstore in North Park?"

"Yes," Anna replied with a nod. 

"Did you get his name?" Advanced Physics asked. 

"No," she answered, still embarrassed over the fact that she hid from him.

And then she thought she was going to get whiplash again.

"Was he about six feet tall?"

"Was he slim but not skinny?"

"Did he blush when he smiled?"

"Will you please come to the Hard Deck this weekend?"

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

Bradley is so proud of the fact that Sugar fell for him when they were in college. Beer Boy just gets better with age. This little Bob and Anna meet cute might spell disaster when they figure it all out! Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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[daysofyellowroses]

yellow rose

david von erich x afab!reader | 6.2k | 18+ minors dni | tw: language, smoking, mild smut | a reflection on your journey to the altar

so this is a complete and utter work of fiction, based on the very brilliant movie the iron claw. i knew as soon as i watched it i would have stories but i was a little surprised david came to me first. obviously harris dickinson is beautiful but i am down so bad for jaw. i got some kerry ideas too, and i always have a hundred different bear ideas on the go too so more to come | also just to note that because this is totally fictitious, i am choosing to ignore real life events for the most part and live in fanfic delusion. enjoy 🌼

-

It all seemed to happen in a flash.

In theory, you should have been used to it. Ready for it.

One minute you were heading to a local sports center on a work assignment, then in what felt like the blink of an eye, you were walking up the aisle to marry the subject of one of those photos.

But, to get to how exactly you ended up walking down that aisle, you need to go back to how it all started.

Which, like with most things when it came to you,started with a picture.

📷

From an early age, you loved photography. Capturing a moment in time, being able to look at it any time and relive the moment was always a thrill. Your childhood home was full of framed photos and photo albums, a collection of memories surrounding you.

When you turned 13, your parents gave you your own camera. It wasn't anything too technical or fancy, but it was immediately your most treasured possession. You took photos of everything, family occasions, your friends hanging out, nature, snapshots of Dallas.

As you grew older you threw yourself into studying everything about photography, worked an extremely tedious part time job to save up for a real camera, dedicated yourself to honing your skills. It wasn't difficult, your friends and family kept you busy with birthday parties, weddings, christenings, anything worth celebrating and you were there to capture the moments.

When you were in your senior year of high school, you discovered a fondness for a particular subject of your photos. You had been sitting in the bleachers after school one day with your friends, all you of chatting and laughing about something when you'd looked onto the football field and spotted two of the players talking about something animatedly, one of them slapping the other on the back as they laughed. 

You had grabbed your camera, snapping a photo and rolled your eyes playfully as your friends teased you. Sure, the players were cute, but that wasn't why you took their photo. When the shots had developed, you were thrilled that your instinct had been correct. The red of the players jerseys popped, the gold star on their helmets gleaming in the sun. They looked graceful, despite their large frames, natural and charming. 

From that photo, you began to base more of your photos on sport. It wasn't an area you had expected to become interested in, but it inspired your photography. Cheerleaders in perfectly formed pyramids, track stars crossing the line, football players clutching the ball to their chest as they threw themselves across the post.

After graduation, you applied for a journalism course, figuring it didn't hurt to have a backup plan and maybe it would get you a gig as a photographer for a newspaper or magazine. 

Leaving home was tough, especially when a big going away party was thrown for you, your friends and family coming together to celebrate your accomplishments. When the time came to leave you were sure you'd never cried so much, trying to hype yourself up for the adventure ahead.

It was a lot of fun, being at college, as it turned out. Making new friends, learning new things, having new experiences. By the time it was over it felt like you could back and do it all again in a heartbeat.

You decided to move back to Dallas after you graduated. A job opportunity at a big paper came up, and your friend Pam had found an apartment that came with a spare room so it seemed like the right move.

It was about two weeks later you were tasked with going down to the Sportatorium on a Saturday night to document the latest wrestling match. Every time you went to a sporting event for work, you were accompanied by the senior sports writer, Duke. He was older than your father, far too old for his cheap toupee to be even the slightest bit believable. He wore cheap polyester suits, too much cologne and had a fondness for calling you ‘missy’ and placing his hand a little too low on your back.

You had psyched yourself up to ask Pam to come along, preparing a whole speech in your head. If she was with you then you could avoid Duke like the plague, couldn't possibly leave your guest alone. 

Turned out Pam didn't take much convincing at all, in fact she practically jumped at the chance to come along. You tucked her excitement away in your mind, curious to see if the source would reveal itself at the match.

When the day came, you were excited to get some shots of a new sport. From what you'd seen on TV, the Sportatorium was bright and colorful, the wrestlers just as much so. You packed up your camera before getting changed into some jeans and a t-shirt. 

Pam had taken one look at you and marched you back into your room, your protests of “But I'm working!” falling on deaf ears.

A compromise was reached. Your t-shirt stayed but a denim mini skirt replaced your jeans and brown cowboy boots replaced your beat up sneakers. You felt a little ridiculous, your job had you in all kinds of angles and positions to get the best shots, the last thing you wanted was to be unable to get a good picture because you'd end up flashing tomorrow's laundry to thousands of strangers.

When you arrived at the Sportatorium, the sun was dipping below the horizon and what seemed like hundreds of cars and trucks were pulling up. People were grabbing beers out of coolers, blasting music from boomboxes, grilling up hotdogs on portable barbecues. You got a couple of shots before Pam was hustling you inside to get your seats. Well, her seat. You told her you'd meet her outside after the match, not that she seemed to be paying attention, her eyes focused on the empty ring. 

You made your way down to the ring, keeping an eye out for Duke and ready to sprint back to Pam if needed. To your relief, Duke wasn't in attendance. The junior sports reporter, Brian, had been sent in his place. The two of you weren't exactly close friends but he was much more professional. You got some shots of the crowd, feeling excited to see a match live. The atmosphere in the stadium was electric, like something incredible was about to happen. 

When the announcement came for the first tag team, you got some shots of them walking through the tunnel and into the ring, holding their arms in the air and greeting the crowd. Brian walked around the ring slowly, scribbling into a notepad, cigarette perched behind his ear.

Then they announced the next tag team, and you moved to the opposite tunnel to get shots of them. You took a breath as you snapped a shot of the taller one, his wavy blonde hair peeking out from under his back cowboy hat. He was wearing a leather jacket that he promptly tore off before he got into the ring, his back muscles rippling. 

You cleared your throat, taking more photos and trying to concentrate on what you were there for. 

The bell rang, and once the match started you had no shortage of great photo opportunities. The men in the ring moved with perfect proficiency and style, playing up to the crowd and putting on a spectacular show. You found yourself more and more drawn to the tall blonde, David Von Erich, you discovered. 

He was so graceful yet could have these huge men slammed onto their backs, his arms bulging and a cocky grin on his face. Once or twice you could have sworn he caught your eye and winked at you but you were sure it was your imagination. 

The Von Erichs won the match, you snapped a photo of the referee holding up the brother's hands as the crowd roared. Brian checked back in with you, telling you he was going to grab some quotes before heading off. You bid him farewell before going to find Pam, heading outside with the rest of the crowd.

“Hey, over here!”

You quickly spotted Pam, smiling as you waved back at her, weaving your way through the crowd to join her.

“Hey,” You smiled, laughing softly as Pam grabbed your arm, a wide grin on her face. “Are you al-”

“Come on,” Pam immediately started tugging you in the opposite direction. “let me show you something,”

You just about managed to maintain your balance and hold onto your camera as you dodged through the dispersing crowd, wondering what exactly Pam was doing.

Before long you had an answer, as you and Pam joined a large group of women hanging around the back door of the Sportatorium. Her keenness to come to the match made much more sense when Kevin Von Erich walked out the door, towel around his shoulders and bag slung over his shoulder. You had never known Pam to look at any man the way she was looking at Kevin.

“What are you waiting for?” You asked, giving Pam a gentle nudge. “Get on over there, girl.”

“I can't, there's too many girls round him,” Pam sighed. “I am not desperate. I'll wait for my time.”

“Saving the best for last huh?” You grinned, watching Pam roll her eyes playfully. “I don't think he's gonna be able to take his eyes off you.”

“You think?” Pam asked, glancing over to you. She looked genuinely concerned and you gave her a reassuring smile. 

“I know.”

A little while later, when the crowd had dispersed and Kevin was signing the last couple of autographs, you gave Pam a gentle nudge, smiling as she quickly fixed her hair.

“Good luck,” You grinned, gently squeezing her arm. “Not that you need it.”

You gave her some space, walking over to a trash can before fishing a pack of cigarettes from your purse. You lit one up, glancing over to Pam and smiling as you spotted Kevin heading in her direction. Closing your eyes as you looked away, you took a long drag on your cigarette and felt yourself relax.

“You know it's a bad habit to smoke those things.”

You opened your eyes, finding a familiar face standing close to you. He looked better in person than he did in the ring, if that was possible. 

“Well I'm sure you know that it is very rude to keep your hat on in the presence of a lady,” You raised a brow, flicking your ash into the trash can. “I could be deeply insulted.”

“I apologize,” David grinned, taking off his hat and giving you a slight bow as he did. He introduced himself properly, as did you, his hand moving over his heart as he tilted his head. “You know I was just joking, there's worse habits to have than smoking.”

You nodded, smiling a little. “Like creeping up on strangers?”

He laughed and you felt a flutter in your stomach. You willed it away, not wanting to be another simpering fan.

“You want one?” You asked, holding out the box of cigarettes. David looked like he was considering saying yes before he shook his head. 

“No, thank you. I shouldn't.”

“Fair enough,” You nodded, putting the box back in your purse. “It really is a bad habit. I'm trying to quit but I got some time to kill so..”

“Oh yeah?” David raised a brow, glancing around the quiet car park before looking back at you. “What you waiting for?”

“My friend,” You gestured in the direction of Pam, who was deep in conversation with Kevin. “she's a big fan.”

“So I see,” David grinned, looking over to his brother and Pam before focusing his attention back on you. “and uh..what about you? Are you a big fan?”

You thought about it/made him wait for a moment as you took a drag on your cigarette and raised a brow.

“I'm just here for work.”

“Really?” David looked a little surprised, lightly rubbing his jaw. “What kinda work do you do?”

You held up your camera with a smile before flicking your cigarette in the trash can. “I’m a photographer,” You explained. “for a newspaper.”

“Oh right,” David smiled, folding his arms. “I'll have to buy that, see if you got any good ones of me. Which paper is it?”

“It's the uh..huh,” You grinned as you glanced over to Pam, watching her laugh as Kevin said something to her. “Excuse me for one second.” 

You turned slightly, holding your camera up and focusing it on Pam and Kevin. You felt very aware of David's presence behind you, trying to hold your hands steady as you snapped a picture. 

“I have a feeling I may need that one day,” You smiled, settling your camera strap back over your shoulder and turning to David. “They're cute together, don't you think?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” David nodded, his gaze staying on you. “She ain't the cutest one here though.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn't fight the smile on your face and multiple flutters in your stomach. 

“Oh shut up, that's such a line.”

“I'm deadly serious,” David grinned, holding his hat over his heart. “I promise.”

You were about to say something when Pam appeared, linking her arm with yours and giggling as she went to drag you away. 

“Hang on one second,” David called, making you look over your shoulder with a smile.

“You never told me the name of your paper!”

“It's in Dallas,” You called back, walking forward with Pam, the two of you giggling. “If you find it, call me!”

📷

A couple of days later you were in the newspaper office, going over some photos for an upcoming article when one of the secretaries knocked on the door and asked for you.

“Call for you,” She explained, gesturing to the phone as you went to her desk. “They didn't give a name, just asked for you.”

“Okay, thanks Margaret,” You smiled, feeling a slight knot in your stomach. It was extremely rare someone called you at work, and you tried not to think the worst. 

Going to the phone, you picked it up and took a deep breath before holding it to your ear. 

“Hello?”

“Hello yourself.”

You let out a soft sigh of relief as you realized who was on the other end of the line, a small smile on your face.

“How many papers did you have to call before you found me?”

“That's not important.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin.

“More than two?”

“..five.”

“Oh wow,” You grinned, turning more towards the wall. “That's perseverance right there. I'm flattered.”

“Well so am I,” David replied. “I saw those pictures you took. They were great, I wanted to thank you for catching me at such a flattering angle.”

“You're welcome,” You smiled, glancing over your shoulder before looking back and lowering your voice slightly. “That the only reason you called six newspapers? Angles?”

“Not quite,” You could hear a cheeky tone in his voice, your fingers holding the phone cord. “I was hoping you'd come see me again. You don't have to take pictures this time, if you don't want.”

“As it happens I am coming,” You raised a brow with a smile. “Your brother beat you to the invite. He invited Pam, who invited me. So I'll be there.”

“Well damn,” David laughed softly. “I guess I'll just have to come right out with it then..ask you on a real date.”

“Oh?” You grinned, feeling like a teenager as your cheeks grew warm. “How about we make it interesting?”

“I'm all ears.”

You took a breath, trying to calm your heartbeat. You were aware of Margaret behind you, knowing she'd be listening to every word. 

“Alright, if you win..I accept. If you don't, no deal.”

“Hm, sounds fair,” David replied. “I guess I'll have to try a little harder this week. I'll let you get back to work, alright?”

“Alright,” You nodded, trying not too smile too widely. “I'll see you Saturday. Bye.”

You hung up the phone, turning around to Margaret with a polite smile.

“Thank you, I'll be in the office.”

Once you closed the door and found yourself alone, you let out a laugh, shaking your head and wondering what you'd let yourself in for.

📷

Saturday came around quickly, and most of the day was given over to preparing. At first you were just helping Pam, heading into store after store to find the perfect outfit. Then you started looking for yourself, realizing that you wanted to put in just a little more effort since you were going to watch, not work. 

As the evening drew closer, the radio was on full blast in the apartment as you and Pam cracked open a bottle of wine and started the beauty process. You couldn't shake the slight nerves that were settled in your stomach, but they were joined by an excitement. 

“Oh,” Pam turned from the bathroom mirror to look at you. You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub, carefully painting your toenails. “Did he ever get in touch? David? I completely forgot to ask.”

“Yeah, he found me,” You grinned, laughing as Pam gasped. “Asked me to come along tonight. I told him I was already coming.”

“And?” Pam asked, waving her hand at you. “What else? Did he ask you out?”

“I told him he can take me out if he wins,” You smiled, holding the bottle of nail polish up in the air with a laugh as Pam rushed over to hug you.

“This is so exciting! We're gonna be like sisters!”

📷

When you arrived at the Sportatorium, it seemed to be even busier than it had been the previous week. You stepped out of your truck, smoothing out your outfit. It was only a black off the shoulder top and some denim jeans but you hoped it still looked good. 

You linked your arm with Pam's as the two of you headed inside the bustling arena, your heart beating faster as you took your seats. As it turned out, watching the match was totally different to photographing it. You couldn't move about, couldn't pick one thing to focus on. It was all happening, bright and loud and thrilling. You found yourself cheering and whistling with the crowd, you and Pam both jumping up and screaming when the Von Erichs emerged victorious.

When it was all over and you were enjoying the fresh air, you couldn't help but find it adorable when Kevin couldn't keep his eyes off Pam while he signed autographs. Once he was free you gave him and Pam some space, almost immediately bumping into David.

“Hey winner,” You smiled, resting your hands in your back pockets. “Nice angles in there.”

“I hope someone was there to capture them,” David grinned, taking his hat off. “Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, watching David for a moment, smiling as you realized he almost seemed a little nervous. “I really enjoyed it..though I'm a little curious about something.”

“What might that be?” David asked, moving his hat from one hand to the other. 

“Well,” You smiled, stepping closer and looking up at him. “Are you going to honor our agreement?”

📷

It was only when you were putting on your coat to leave the apartment when it dawned on that you hadn't actually been on a first date for..a while. There were some relationships in high school, a couple in college along with some dates and flings but the last had been before you graduated. 

You tried not to think about it too much, you were just going for dinner and seeing a movie. Worst case scenario, you and David didn't end up hitting it off and the world would go on as it always did. But part of you was hopeful that something would come from the date, that it would develop into something really great.

Grabbing your purse, you left the apartment and went downstairs to hail a cab, excitement starting to outweigh the nerves.

📷

“No way,” You laughed, your eyes going wide as you placed your hand over your chest. “You did not do that.”

“Yes I did,” David nodded, a serious look on his face before he laughed. “I was so sick afterwards. Never got found out though. Mom just went and got Kerry and Mike a new egg each. I couldn't eat chocolate for like three months.”

“I'm not surprised,” You laughed, picking up your drink. “You can't say you didn't deserve it.”

David laughed, nodding as he picked up his own drink. 

“I certainly did deserve it. Moment of weakness I guess.” 

You took a sip of your drink before setting the glass down and glancing around the restaurant. It was a steakhouse, but it felt like a nice one. Elegant lighting, candles on the tables, classy music playing. No sawdust or butcher paper to be found. 

“So do you think your brothers ever found out?” You asked, sitting up a little and resting your hands in your lap. “Or did you tell them?”

“No to both I'm afraid,” David sighed softly, lightly tapping his glass as he set it down. “Though I think Kev knew it was me..” He smiled to himself as he looked down. “Never said anything if he did know, though.”

“Seems like you two are close,” You smiled, your heart picking up a beat as David looked back at you with a warm smile. 

“We are,” He nodded. “We all are. I can't imagine life without them, they're amazing.” 

You felt your heart swell, trying not to get too swept up in your emotions. 

“That's so wonderful,” You smiled. “It's amazing that you're all so close.”

“Yeah,” David grinned, sitting up a little. “I just feel so lucky every day, like..” He stopped himself, lightly rubbing his neck.

“You know what, I feel like all I've done is talk about myself, my brothers, I don't want you to think I'm self absorbed or nothing, I promise I ain't like that.”

You shook your head, reaching your hand across the table and grinning when David held it with his own.

“I know you're not,” You insisted. “You're wonderful. Now tell me more about your family, I want the good stories.”

You ended up missing the movie, but neither of you cared. You talked until the restaurant was closing, David's jacket around your shoulders as you walked out into the night air. He gave you a ride home and kissed your cheek by your door  like a gentleman. 

“I had a great time,” You smiled, carefully taking off David's jacket and giving it back to him. You could tell he wanted to tell you to keep it, and you knew why he couldn't. 

“Maybe you should win another match, take me out again.”

“It's a deal.”

📷

Going to matches became a weekly event. You and Pam would cheer and cling to each other, laughing at how silly you were being. You took pictures for yourself, wanting to remember every moment. Afterwards you would meet David and Kevin, go for burgers and debrief on the match. 

It wasn't always easy for David to visit you, so you called each other when you could, spending an hour or two talking about anything and everything. You drove down to Denton a couple of times, meeting him for something to eat or just for a drive. 

He was always a perfect gentleman, opening doors for you and holding your hand, never pressing for anything more even though you suspected he was just as keen as you were to take things further.

You decided to nudge things in the right direction one night when you had gone down to visit him. Pam had come with you, and David and Kevin had taken you to the lake with their brother Mike, who you instantly adored. 

The afternoon was perfect, gorgeous hot weather and ice cold beers, floating along in the water and feeling like nothing else could possibly matter but being in that moment. 

You were sitting on the edge of the dock while the others drifted along on the huge rubber float, snapping a couple of shots of them before setting the camera aside. David appeared next to you, sitting down and resting his hand on your back. You leaned into the touch, his arm moving around your shoulders. 

“I love this,” You smiled softly, closing your eyes and letting out a breath. “If every day was like this..what a world.”

“It's perfect,” David murmured softly. “I can't think of anything better.”

“Hm, I reckon I can,” You smiled, opening your eyes and looking up at him. His eyes were already on you and you grinned as he took a breath and leaned in, his lips feeling like heaven against yours. 

You could hear the cheers and whistles, smiling into the kiss and feeling satisfied beyond belief. 

📷

“You ready for this?”

“Absolutely not. You?”

“Absolutely not.”

You flicked on the indicator and headed up the long drive to the Von Erich home, glancing over to Pam in the passenger seat.

“At least we're in this together.”

It was incredibly daunting, the thought of meeting David's parents and his brother Kerry, who had recently come home. He had told you countless times that they would love you, but it didn't ease your nerves. 

You were relieved to have Pam with you, that she was in the same boat. Mike met you both at the door, giving you both a hug and chatting away as he led you outside. 

It was a flurry of introductions, handshakes and hugs and the most perfect kiss from David that had you instantly relaxing.

By the time everyone sat down for dinner, it felt as though you had known the Von Erichs forever. The food was delicious, the weather was beautiful, the company was amazing. You felt David reach for your hand under the table when his parents talked about how they met, your heart swelling. 

When Doris forbade Mike from going to a gig that night, you glanced across the table to Pam smiling as she gave you a slight nod.

📷

“Alright, drive, drive!”.

You put your foot down, laughing as you glanced in the mirror and watched your boyfriend and his brothers gradually haul themselves into your truck. You turned the radio up when you left the driveway, rolling down the windows and cheering as you hit the road.

It didn't matter whose house the party was in, it was big and roomy and most importantly, fun. You had a beer in your hand before you knew it, hitting the makeshift dance floor. The brothers spun you and Pam around, laughter filling the air as you moved to the music, not a care in the world.

When Mike took to the stage with his band, you stood with David behind you, his arms wrapped around you. You all cheered as the song started up, swaying along as you held your hands over David's. 

Later in the evening you gently took David's hand and pulled him into a quiet corner, whispering in his ear and enjoying the slightly tipsy smile that crossed his face, a flash of worry passing his eyes.

You led him upstairs, finding an empty bedroom and closing the door.

“We..we don't have to,” David insisted as you slipped off your shoes. “I don't want you to feel pressured.”

“I don't,” You smiled, walking to the end of the bed and unzipping your dress before turning back to David. “But I will think you don't want to if you don't get over here in the next thirty seconds.”

He didn't need to be asked twice.

You laughed as you were picked up bridal style and carried to the top of the bed, letting out a soft moan as David laid you down and gave you a tender kiss.

Despite your suspicions that David was possibly a virgin, you didn't ask when he didn't bring it up. He was a little apprehensive, but once you took the lead he seemed to tap into his ring persona and the confidence in his movements had you struggling not to scream as your nails dug into his back, the sheets, your body crying out for more. 

“Oh god,” You moaned, touching David's cheek and looking up to meet his eyes as your legs hooked around his waist. “Baby..’m so close, please..”

You closed your eyes as he pushed deeper into you, his forehead resting against yours.

“Me too,” He murmured, his hand reaching for yours. “Fuck..fuck..I love you.”

Your eyes went wide at the confession, a deep moan spilling from your lips as you felt a wave crash over you, feeling David fill you moments later. You moved your hands to his neck, meeting his eyes and taking a deep breath. 

“I'm sorry,” He sighed, looking down. “I shouldn't have-this isn't the time..”

“No,” You insisted, a smile spreading on your face. “It's the perfect time. I love you, too.”

📷

“Mind if I get one of those?”

You turned around, letting out a sigh of relief as you spotted Kerry walking towards you. 

“Of course,” You smiled, taking the box of cigarettes from your purse and handing it over. “Thought you were David for a second.”

Kerry laughed as he accepted the box, shaking his head.

“Nah, your secret is safe with me. Just needed one huh?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, flicking away the ash. “I'm so nervous. I don't know why, it's not like I have to walk down the aisle in front of hundreds of people wearing this,” You raised a brow, gesturing to your dress.

As much as you adored Pam, and as thrilled as you were that she was getting married and had asked you to be her maid of honor, you did not exactly love the dress she had chosen. For a start, it was a mix of dusky pink and peach, the skirt was so big you wondered if you fit down the aisle, and the sleeves were almost the size of your head.

“I feel you,” Kerry nodded, looking down at himself as he lit his cigarette. “I think we all feel a little ridiculous. But you know the worst part?”

“Go on,” You smiled, lifting up the puffball that had slipped down your shoulder. “shock me.”

“I gotta do this three more times,” Kerry sighed, lightly prodding the flower attached to his suit. “At least you get to choose your wedding dress. I'm stuck in velvet hell.”

You laughed, shaking your head and taking a drag on your cigarette. 

“Oh come on, it ain't so bad. I think I heard Mike say he would never have velvet.”

“Really?” Kerry raised a brow, looking over to you. 

“Promise,” You grinned, holding your hand over your heart. “He said he'd have velour.”

“Oh fuck off,” Kerry laughed, shaking his head and holding his hand out. “Gimme a mint and get out of here, I'll velour you.”

“I'd like to see you try,” You laughed, getting a mint from your purse and flicking your cigarette away before walking over to Kerry. “See you inside. Don't destroy that flower.”

📷

“Isn't she beautiful?” You smiled, watching Pam and Kevin sway on the dancefloor, smiles etched on their faces as they moved to the music. 

You felt the urge to take a photo, but a professional had been hired for the day. Pam had insisted she wanted you to be in the pictures, not the one behind the camera. You had been a little disappointed, but you gave her the photo you'd taken from when she and Kevin had first met, and her reaction made it all worth it.

“She really is,” Doris nodded, looking over to you and taking your hand with a smile. “And you will be too.”

“Thank you,” You smiled, giving her a kiss on the cheek. “Let me go get us another drink.”

You stood up, making your way over to the bar with a smile. While you and David weren't officially engaged, it was kind of an unspoken truth that when Pam and Kevin had gotten married, David would propose to you next. Kerry wasn’t seeing anyone, and while Mike was dating a girl, they had only been together a few weeks.

So, you knew you were next up.

As you waited for your drinks, you smiled as you felt a familiar presence by your side.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look today?”

“Yes,” You grin, turning to face David and giving him a kiss. “But I don't mind hearing it again.”

As the song ended and a new one started up, more guests took to the floor.

“Should we go for a twirl?” David asked, gently stroking your cheek. “or maybe not quite a twirl, that dress will take out anyone who comes close,” He teased.

“Oh shut up,” You laughed, lightly swatting him. “I'm getting your mom a drink, if I don't take you out first.”

“I'll take it to her,” David smiled, leaning down to give you a soft kiss. “Then you owe me a dance.”

📷

So, here it is. 

The big day. 

You thought at times it would never come, but it's here. 

A lot has happened, of course. Weddings need buildup, after all. The guests can only talk about how beautiful you look and wonder who did the food for so long. You gotta give them something. 

So what's new? It's been a minute, a luxuriously long engagement. 

The Von Erichs have gone from strength to strength, reaching the top of the wrestling game. You still go see matches, when you can. They're global now, you always feel a rush of pride when you watch them on TV at some crazy hour.

Pam is a world class veterinarian, an incredible mother to the most gorgeous baby, and still the best friend in the world. 

Kevin won the WHC belt, is the most devoted husband, father, brother, brother-in-law and son. He and Pam keep saying they're going to buy a ranch in Hawaii for everyone to live in, and you like to think maybe it could be true.

Kerry insists he's your favorite brother-in-law, and you insist that you couldn't possibly choose a favorite but deep down you think he's most likely right. He makes you laugh the most, teases you and makes stupid jokes to cheer you up when you need it. The two of you have sneaky cigarettes and know what the other is thinking when you look at each other. 

Mike has just signed a recording contract with his band, and you tell him all the time he better come to you first with concert tickets. He's going to be the next one engaged, he's so loved up and it's adorable. 

Then there's David. 

The yellow rose who called up six different newspapers just to ask you out, who let you into his life, who loves you unconditionally and makes you so unbelievably happy that you wonder what you ever did without him. You would never have pursued your dreams without him and his family, that's something you know. And let's not forget his proposal, which was the most beautiful moment of your life.

David had taken you on a surprise trip one night, insisting that you were just going for a drive after you'd been out for dinner, but you knew it wasn't true. You found yourself at the lake, David's hand in yours as you walked down to the dock, which..was decorated with candles in jars, rose petals, a bottle of champagne sitting in ice. 

Knowing that you were marrying your soulmate, joining a family you loved deeply, it made you feel so safe, so secure. You quit your job, deciding to pursue your real passion. You bought a gallery in Dallas, and displayed your own work along with other local artists, including your soon to be mother in law. It took time, but it's become a success, and you don't care what any of them say, you couldn't have done it without your family.

Plenty for the guests to talk about, right?

You take a deep breath as you step out of the car, Pam fixes your dress and you take a deep breath. Her dress is beautiful, and most importantly, simple. 

Before you know it you're walking down the aisle, your heart beating faster as hundreds of faces smile at you, but there's only one you need to see, and when you do it makes everything okay. 

You reach the top of the aisle, feeling overwhelmed with love, beaming as you turn to look at your soon to be husband.

“You know it's a bad habit to leave the bride with a veil over her face,” You grinned, watching David gently touch the hem of the silky veil and carefully move it back, a wide smile on his face.

“I do apologize,” He grinned. “Still gonna marry me?”

“Of course,” You smiled. “You look perfect from this angle.”

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

04/15/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Taika; Samson Kayo; Kay Buchanan; Nathan Foad; Watch parties; GLAAD LAST DAYS; Fan Spotlight; Love Notes; Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika.

== David Jenkins ==

Okay so I apologize all-- somehow I missed that all the David Jenkins pics going around were NEW. I don't know why but I thought they were from a while back. My taxes brain really has me messed up. So these are from the past 2-4 days. Now it makes a lot of sense too as to why everyone's been honking louder! You can see him there at WB Studios, and yes that is him with OFMD fan-stickers on his laptop.

Source: Kinga Malisz' IG

== Taika Waititi ==

A small glimpse of Taika and his ginormous doe eyes on the set of Klara and The Sun. Src: Vas J Morgan's IG

== Samson Kayo ==

Samson was out in Abu Dhabi U.A.E sporting his Prada Sun Glasses! Chaos Dad and Samba happened to pop into his comments as well! Thanks @ashes-skye for pointing out these great photos! SRC: Samson's Instagram

== Kay Buchanan ==

Our lovely leatherworker Kay Buchanan posted lots of cool things today on her instagram! Stede's Dagger Sheath

Next up was the Gunpowder Pouches for OFMD

== Nathan Foad ==

Some first shots of Nathan in his role in #LovesLabourLost! Src: Royal Shakespeare Company IG

== Watch Party Reminders! ==

== Flight Of the Conchords ==

Season 1 is done! Season 2 starts tomorrow with Episodes 1 and 2! Join Save OFMD Crew, and @/ iamadequate1 this week for Flight of the Conchords watch parties! You can watch each day at 4pm PT, 7 pm ET, 11pm BST! If you don't have access, feel free to join us on the #RhysDarbyFaction Discord server, you can hit me up for an invite.

Hashtags:

#FlagOfTheConchords

#OurFlagMeansDeath

== LAST CHANCE FOR GLAAD ==

Voting closes in two days, get your votes in while you can! Remember: you can vote more than once. 😉🏴‍☠️

IMG Src: @saveofmdcrewmates

== Fan Spotlight ==

One of our crewmates @/RabinaryCode on youtube has put together this cute Queen Parody for Rhys! Give it a listen if you have some time :) Vocals: @ferventrabbitao3

Lyrics: @tanteclem

== Cast Cards ==

To quote @melvisik "Tonight is Ian Alda (yup, related to Alan Alda) playing the clerk... reads notes Clark Clerkwell... person who told Stede he's dead "

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. I hope you all are having a fresh start to your week. I've heard good news and rough news, so I truly hope if you have good news, it stays that way and if you have bad news, it looks up for you!

I really am so glad to see people clowning though. I know no one wants to get their hopes up, but it's nice to see that kind of energy flowing through the fandom again. We deserve a little treat of hope once in a while and it warms my heart how much people are running with it.

Hope is the dream lovelies. All things spring from hope. Don't give up on it. Even when things feel the worst, hope is what keeps us going. I have so much love for you friends. I know we have our bad days, but I hope you know that no matter what happens me and the crew will send you love. We love sharing this space with you. Rest well lovelies. Some quotes about hope tonight:

"The soul should always stand ajar, ready to welcome the ecstatic experience." - Emily Dickinson

"The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams." - Eleanor Roosevelt

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Sorry, tonight's theme is just... this interview because every time I see it it makes me smile so horrendously huge. I love them so much and certainly together like this. The goofy bastards. Gif Courtesy of @captain-flint

[theygotbitchesinmedia]

okay so here is her review: https://arkadymartine.wordpress.com/2015/09/27/the-traitor-baru-cormorant-a-reviewresponse/

admittedly its from 2015- i haven't poked around to see how she may have changed how she feels about it, and i know she did blurb seth's recent scifi novel (Exordia), so there's no bad blood there or anything. it's also a positive review, in general- she ends with this sentence: "I highly, highly recommend this book; I have not thought so much about something I read in a long time."

i am also coming into this as someone who has read all of seth dickinson's work for the game destiny, where he was near-singlehandedly responsible for a good oh… 80% of the interesting women (& overall interesting concepts lol!) in the game, and his writing of one of those characters in particular as a complex and flawed character got him bullied viciously off of all social media. if you've tried to find his social media presence and havent found anything, that's why. so i mayhaps have a little more emotion in the game.

THAT SAID. here are some specific parts from her review i find really fucking annoying! and color the way i feel about Memory & Desolation, despite them being so incredibly targeted at me as a classics person AND someone who fucking loves the specific sub-genre of scifi her novels are.

"[Traitor] asks a question which I find compelling as a student of an empire and as a queer woman. That question is: what do we gain by complicity? What do we – we barbaroi, we women, we queer people, we imperialized – what do we get when we say yes? When we say yes I will hide my true nature? When we say yes I will subsume myself into the beautiful machine? When we say can we speak English? Or the literature I love just happens to be written by straight white men – and mean it, too, mean it with the kind of depthless love that a person can have for a text that speaks to them, which holds up a mirror to them?"

i dont think the use of the greek word for barbarian does anything here (she also keeps coming back to the greek term orthos in her review, which also pisses me off lol), i dont think empire is a "beautiful machine," and i don't think the invocation of identity politics is useful. like. i know she's a byzantine scholar but if your first association with empire is purely a finite Historical Empire instead of, like, modern US imperialism, or British colonialism, you are going into this discussion with a certain set of values and opinions! a set of values and opinions that let you call an empire a "beautiful machine" in all earnestness. this claim probably seems unsubstantiated and nitpicky now just from this excerpt but ill come back to it with more i promise. on the idpol front, she also says immediately after this that she does believe that straight people can and should write queer people, but that they should listen to queer people when they point out those errors. she then continues:

"But then, critique: there are two points on which I think Dickinson’s portrayal of a queer protagonist has faltered, and I think both of these errors arise from the fact that he isn’t part of – as far as I know at the time of writing this review – a queer community. Firstly, I disbelieve Baru’s awareness of her own desires… …For the first portion of the book, her queerness felt more like a character trait assigned to her for reason of plot than a naturally built part of her as a person… Secondly, I wonder where queer people in Falcrest are…"

theres more to these excerpts, but. i personally didnt find the depiction of baru's desire to be unrealistic, and also this was a review of Traitor, specifically, so where on earth would baru have heard about queer people in falcrest? and more importantly, why should we care so much about queer people in the imperial core? moreover i think the way seth does it with svir is very very well done, and illustrates the hypocrisy of empire in a way that does NOT seem like what martine is asking for here!!!

"Why am I invested? I myself am a student of empire. I’m a Byzantinist. My academic work is about empire and its seductions; it is the animating principle of my professional life. And: I am myself someone who loves order over disorder. Who looks for systems in all things. Who is comforted by structures; who is concerned deeply with propriety. But here’s my real criticism of this book: I don’t buy the seduction of the Masquerade. And I think if this book fails, it’s there: in that its empire is too easily read as undesirable. As profane, unethical, fundamentally wrong. It is really overtly evil." … "The Masquerade isn’t civilized. It’s civilization, but I don’t recognize it as civilized, and this is a problem with a constructed empire. An empire relies on itself as the definition of civilization – I would footnote here Ann Leckie’s Imperial Radch as a SFnal example of an empire which is built on this principle, and which, for this reader at least, achieves the facsimile. (But then my ancestors were not enslaved, we were exterminated; not annexed, but exiled. Perhaps I like the Radch better than the Masquerade because I can find a place for myself in it, and cannot imagine a place within the Masquerade someone like me would ever be safe –)"

and THIS. THIS RIGHT HERE IS MY BIGGEST PROBLEM. critiquing the masquerade as not "seductive" enough, calling it too evil to have people join it- how does someone miss the point THIS badly??? like. are you FUCKING serious??? how do you read a book about the immense violence of colonialism and your problem is that it is boohoo too violent for people to join willingly. google literally fucking anything the US has done ever!!! and the invocation of the concept of "civilized" as an objective quality, despite the recognition that the empire constructs what counts as "civilization" is so fucking unserious/simplistic/juvenile! why do you need to imagine yourself a place in the empire? in the imperial core specifically!

and i think this particular approach bleeds into her books. i read them at Least 2 years ago, so this is mostly vibes-based, and i will avoid spoilers.

there is such a focus on the allure of the imperial core, on the "beautiful machine" of the empire as she calls it. there is violence done, but it is abstracted away from the wealth of the imperial core. there are no economics there. the empire sees her independent station as a backwater, and there is some cultural tensions there, but there is no realistic violence and exploitation! it is not clear at all what maintains the empire, besides some abstract idea of trade. i also don't know what her Point is with the naming & language conventions, which are very clearly inspired in part by ancient Mayan- e.g. the empire and core planet are called Teixcalaan. and idk this may be reductive of me but i think if you are going to pull features from civilizations that have been colonized and use them to inspire fictional colonizing forces, you ARE saying something there! idk! and like, the ancient Mayan

and on the ~representation~ front, i also don't think she does a better job than seth tbqh!!! i felt like the characters getting together came out of nowhere and felt anticlimactic- there is also not the tension i think there should be with the main character being an ambassador-ish and the love interest being… idr. junior intelligence officer iirc? idk! and for all her critique of baru's desire for women not feeling "real" or present enough, i do not remember the main character in Memory having any real focus on it!

i enjoyed Memory just fine, but i don't think it says anything interesting or novel or even critical about empire, and i found her review of Traitor extremely shallow and useless, if very revealing about her own outlook on empire lol!!!

this has been at best Minorly proofread and edited but im not like, writing an academic essay on the matter and so i apologize for any inconsistencies.

oh man thanks for this this is really interesting. i went and read the whole thing and i agree a ton with your critique. i'm going to stick my thoughts below the cut because i went on for a bit here, in typical fashion.

i personally didnt find the depiction of baru's desire to be unrealistic, and also this was a review of Traitor, specifically, so where on earth would baru have heard about queer people in falcrest? and more importantly, why should we care so much about queer people in the imperial core?

NO BUT EXACTLY... for starters this is explicitly a novel about colonized people taking place in a colony where none of the major characters are from the empire. where, when, and how would we take the time to explore what queerness looks like for them and more importantly, like you've asked, why the hell should that be a priority for the narrative in this case.

in terms of 'i found this to be an unrealistic depiction of queer desire' 9/10 times i feel like what that means is 'i found this to be an unrelatable depiction' which is an entirely different critique. i know i'm working with two additional books worth of context that martine isn't working with here. but even taking into account just the characterization we have for baru in traitor i think this is suuuuch an unfair complaint. i'm gonna pull the entire quote she says about baru's sexuality here because i have additional specific gripes with it.

Firstly, I disbelieve Baru’s awareness of her own desires. In the first portion of the book, I do not ever feel the weight of Baru’s own awareness of her sexuality; there is an absence of carnality, a kind of intellectual version of lesbian desire which is, to me, inconsistent with the sort of desire I expect. Not until the introduction of Baru’s eventual lover Tain Hu do I get a sense of Baru as a woman who loves women. Further, considering how very much the Empire of Masks and Increastic philosophy criminalizes the sin of queer desire, I wish Baru had struggled more with the nature of her desire. For the first portion of the book, her queerness felt more like a character trait assigned to her for reason of plot than a naturally built part of her as a person. This markedly improved in the second half, where Baru notices women in a way she does not notice men.

For starters, it is insanely hypocritical to me to complain that her desire both isn't carnal enough and she processes it too intellectually, but that she isn't struggling enough with it. Baru intellectually processes things! That's her entire character from the getgo! She also has a difficult time conceptualizing other people as fully realized beings with their own agency. These character traits paired together don't make for a particularly passionate and carnal relationship to her sexuality. She is also, at her absolute oldest in this book, 21! (Or 22? I can't remember. I know she spends 3 years in aurdwynn) and has spent her entire youth being groomed to be a scholar. Of course detached intellectualism is her primary way of navigating all things. Why wouldn't it be?

Baru primary motivation is to save taranoke, she wants to save the taranoki way of life, and part of that way of life includes an acceptance of nonhetero nonmonogamous relationships. Sure, a different character arc may have involved baru actually internalizing and then having to break free of the trappings of race, gender, and sexuality that the empire tries to impose upon its citizens. but that's not baru and acting like this is a writing flaw rather than a character choice is insane to me.

There's absolutely no reason for Baru to lie awake at night pontificating about how wrong and dirty of her it is to want to have sex with women because we are never lead to believe even for a minute that Baru puts any emotional weight in incrasticism. She doesn't conceptualize it as sinful she conceptualizes it as illegal!

And "Not until the introduction of Baru’s eventual lover Tain Hu do I get a sense of Baru as a woman who loves women. " is killing me in particular because like. Yeah. Tain Hu is baru's first love. thats the point. But beyond that this is just not being able to see anything other than what she's looking for because i think the chapters covering baru's childhood make it pretty clear that her feelings for aminata and cousin lao (im not double checking the name but im pretty sure it was this) are deep and strong. the fact that they're not as explicitly and straightforwardly romantic and sexual as her relationship with tain hu doesn't change that, and in fact, points to baru's struggle with/development of her sexuality that she claims was somehow missing in this book.

like i just simply can't see anything here but someone who is seeing an emotional landscape they can't relate to and assuming that means it's flawed writing. skill issue frankly.

She's also fucking insane for acting like the masquerade is too cartoonishly evil to be appealing. once again im going to post her full quote here because i think its important to see

its empire is too easily read as undesirable. As profane, unethical, fundamentally wrong. It is really overtly evil. It punishes sexual “deviants” with mutilation and death. It murders children callously. It inflicts plague and withholds vaccines. It lobotomizes its own emperors for the sake of convincing its populace that the emperor is just. Most of all, the Masquerade is a eugenicist empire: it is explicitly founded on not purity of bloodline but on purification of bloodline, on making people useful to it. It makes people: it breeds them carefully, it indoctrinates them through schools, it uses drugs and operant conditioning to transform their minds and make them into automata tools. It commits every atrocity that a modern Western reader recognizes as abhorrent. This is a problem. It is a problem because we are asked, as readers, to believe that there are reasons besides blackmail that a person would willingly become an agent of the Masquerade. We are asked to imagine that the Masquerade is a beautiful machine.

for starters. "It commits every atrocity that a modern Western reader recognizes as abhorrent." MODERN WESTERN EMPIRES DID, AND OCCASIONALLY STILL DO, MOST OF THESE THINGS!!! THIS IS US! WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!!! I FEEL INSANE!!!!

I think the book makes it more than explicitly clear why the empire is appealing??? it has all of the capital???? its building schools and sewage systems and importing food and goods and teaching reading and writing??? baru's own internal narrative often shows her own strife at the fact that the empire has made genuinely incredible scientific advancements that offer significant improvements in quality of life to many, many people. martine actually acknowledges this in the next paragraph of her review, and then brushes it away as not being good enough. why? what about that doesn't convince you?

she is seeming to hugely ignore the fact that in the case of aurdwynn specifically, the bureaucracy of the empire is coming in to unseat feudal aristocracy! what the masquerade offers may not be particularly tempting to most of that ruling class, but its economic opportunities are more then believably appealing to the common people. i think this is made pretty clear when baru's ploy to use the fiat bank to make loans to the aurdwynni people and basically lessen the massive tax burdens from the duchies wins her huge favor with the public.

and frankly even for the ruling class the potential economic benefits are massive too if you're willing to participate in the empire properly. yes the empire doesn't have Moral appeal. it doesn't fucking have to. it owns pretty much every economy outside of the oriati mbo. the fact that that's not enough for her is as you've pointed out really really showing her biases and blind spots. 'no reason besides blackmail' MONEY!!!! MONEY! IT'S MONEY! THIS IS A BOOK ABOUT ACCOUNTING! HOW DID YOU MISS THAT!!!

and the invocation of the concept of "civilized" as an objective quality, despite the recognition that the empire constructs what counts as "civilization" is so fucking unserious/simplistic/juvenile! why do you need to imagine yourself a place in the empire? in the imperial core specifically!

And this is really it for me too, yeah. It's gross. It's absolutely gross. "An empire isn't believably appealing unless I, personally, find it appealing" there are people alive who are eugenicists, who love community policing, who believe in race science. the masquerade is an empire for them. the thing about empires is that they are only actually empowering for an incredibly small subset of people, and the fact that You, Specifically, Arkady Martine can't imagine being one of those people in this instance doesn't make it not believable. This is a shatteringly individualist way of engaging with a work.

As for your points about the way she handles empire in her own book obviously i can't have anything to say there because i haven't read it yet, but i do absolutely agree with you on this bit:

and idk this may be reductive of me but i think if you are going to pull features from civilizations that have been colonized and use them to inspire fictional colonizing forces, you ARE saying something there! idk! and like, the ancient Mayan

1000% i don't think this is reductive of you. whether or not you're consciously saying anything is one question but it's a choice that absolutely doesn't exist in a vacuum. out of curiosity i googled her to see if she was of mayan descent or anything and maybe she chose that due to some personal ties to the subject matter but she doesn't seem to be. which of course i don't think means she can't or shouldn't draw any inspiration from there but i do think all of these sorts of choices are meaningful

i don't really have much to say here to round off a conclusion but. wow. deeply deeply telling review that does not particularly make me want to read anything she has written beyond this.

[hard-core-super-star]

A request for hailee x reader. Reader is Hailees' main backup dancer. There are edits of the two over the years, fans speculate that the two are together due to the tension between them in said edits and videos.

one step forward, three steps back [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: when hailee tries to convince you to ride the publicity wave and appear in her new music video, you’re forced to accept the truth of your feelings for her.

warnings: the weirdest mix of angst and fluff you've ever seen; stubborn idiots arguing instead of being honest; quite possibly the most dialogue i've ever written for one fic; one mention of the JA stunt because i am still bitter about it

wordcount: 1.6k

a/n: rubix stop mentioning sunkissing in everything challenge. don't mind me, just trying to manifest hailee's music back to life...pun absolutely intended. [ever write a song so gay you have to go into hiding as soon as it comes out? i'm sure taylor swift knows the feeling all too well] anywho, i got a little carried away with this one and it shows. hope you enjoy <3

* * * * * * *

If someone had told you your entire life would be flipped on its head just from a few short video edits and a trending hashtag you would have called them mad. Unfortunately, Emily Dickinson had a point when she said,“Much madness is divinest sense.”

The ‘madness’ in this case was the sheer amount of people who had started spreading the before-mentioned videos around and the ‘sense’ being your incredibly obvious feelings for the person who was essentially your boss. It’s a bit of an oversimplification, and the biggest reason you have not to tell Hailee the truth, but the point still stands.

You still have no idea how things got blown so out of proportion since the speculation around you two has been swirling around since day one. Clearly, not having any new music projects to focus on has driven her fans into madness.

It would be fine…if you and Hailee were still on speaking terms.

Are you being dramatic? Maybe a little but your friendship or relationship or whatever the hell it was that you two had going on at some point isn’t what it used to be. The blame isn’t entirely on her but your own bitterness about the situation tends to cloud your judgment sometimes…okay, most of the time.

Right now is a perfect example of it.

You’ve been staring at your phone for what feels like hours, mentally debating if you should give in and reply to Hailee’s text. You really, really, don’t want to but what other choice do you have? It’s not like you can ignore her forever, you’ve already promised her you’ll join her on her next tour, whenever it finally happens.

You decide to suck it up and agree to meet her for coffee. The last thing you need is to be seen hanging out with her right now but you’re sure it’s all part of the plan. A plan that probably didn’t come from the singer herself, but rather from the group of people who act like they want the best for her but are really just trying to sell her image like it’s a product.

Because who cares about morals and dignity as long as you get streams on your music, right?

You shove your bitter thoughts out of your mind for now and focus on getting ready to see Hailee again.

The hours simultaneously feel like seconds and eternity and before you know it, you’re sitting at a semi-secluded table in a random coffee shop with your knee bouncing up and down like there are ants crawling up your pants. No amount of breathing exercises or grounding techniques can stop your heart from hammering in your chest from the mere thought of the brunette.

You’re not sure what she wants from you, you just have a bad feeling about it. Although maybe that’s your broken heart talking, you can’t be sure.

You notice her the second she walks in and you do an awful job at pretending you’re looking at something on your phone instead of her. You act like you can’t see the smile on her face from this distance just like she acts like she can’t see you. Both of you look ridiculous but neither of you mind.

She finally joins you after another eternity of waiting and despite all the questions that are swirling around in your brain, you force yourself to wait for her to go first.

“I need your help with something.”

After months of not talking to each other, that’s what she leads with. You would complain about her lack of greeting but you’re grateful she’s getting right to the point so you can wrap this up and go back to avoiding your feelings. “That’s a bold start.”

She rolls her eyes, more out of habit than anything else. “It’s been five seconds, are we going to fight already?”

“I guess that depends on what you want me to do,” you reply.

“I want you in the SunKissing music video. We finally got the green light for it and it’s the perfect way to take advantage of all the buzz around the two of us.”

You can’t help but wonder if she’s joking. The ‘buzz’ around you two is just people speculating and piecing together the history Hailee has spent so long ignoring and rewriting. History that’s filled with arguments. bitter kisses, unspoken confessions and stolen glances.

You force the memories out of your mind. Along with the weird ache you feel every time you focus on Hailee’s eyes.

“Me dancing in the background of your music video isn’t going to be a trending topic, Hailee.”

She shrugs. “It will be if we kiss.”

“You’re joking,” you say, unable to hide the way her words take you by surprise.

“I’m serious.”

“You’re choosing now to come out? You think this will make everyone forget about your little stunt with the QB?”

Your mention of the New York stunt hits her hard and if you’re being honest, that’s exactly why you brought it up. You’re not interested in turning your private life into Hailee’s next big scandal. Even if it means pissing her off until she changes her mind.

The way she clenches her jaw is all you need to know you’re not going to like her next words. “It’s not a coming out. It’s an acting project.”

“You’re never going to change are you?” You ask, not sure whether to be impressed or disappointed by her idea.

“Come on, y/n.” She leans forward and places her hand on top of yours. You half-expect a camera flash to accompany the action but you seem to be safe for now. “You know you’re the only person I trust with this.”

Her words would be cute if you hadn’t fallen for them already. Multiple times. It’s always been the same way with her. She gives you a few months of her attention, makes you believe your unspoken affections aren’t one-sided, just to rip it away from you the second you think you’ve made progress.

“You’re the last person in this room who should be talking about trust.”

“Oh my God!” She leans back, her hand slipping away from you and taking any hope of avoiding an argument with it. “When are you going to let that go?”

You’re not even sure what she thinks you’re upset about this time. The list is so long, she could be referencing anything and be completely right. And yet somehow, you’re the one who’s in the wrong for still being upset.

“When you apologize for being a piece of shit,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Which it is. To you, anyway.

The brunette across from you clearly doesn’t feel the same. “That’s unfair.”

“Leading someone on is unfair, Hailee.”

“You are so stubborn. How the hell did I ever sleep with you?”

You can’t tell if she’s joking or not but either way, you don’t want to hear another word from her.

“I’m leaving,” you say as you rise to your feet, ignoring your half-finished drink and the flash of regret that passes through those brown eyes you can’t help but love.

“Shit, shit, y/n, wait!”

“I already did wait or did you forget about that too?”

You don’t give her a chance to answer instead choosing to ignore her rushed apology and walking away like you should have done when this whole conversation started.

You make it about six feet away from the entrance when you hear Hailee’s voice calling after you. “Will you do it if I tell you it was my idea?”

It’s a desperate attempt for your attention and yet you fall for it all the same. Everything inside of you is telling you to leave but you can’t. Not when you’re this close to getting her to be honest with both herself and you.

“If it’s the truth,” you respond with your back still facing her.

“It is.” The scent of her perfume overwhelms you as her hands grip your waist. You fight back the urge to move away from her and allow her to turn you around to look at her. “I told my label it would be good publicity but honestly…I just really miss you.”

You can’t stop yourself from laughing. The sound comes out softer than you thought possible. “You couldn’t call like a normal person?”

“We’re not normal people, y/n,” she says, the ghost of a smile lingering on her lips. “You know that better than anyone. You know me better than anyone.”

“Do I?”

She takes a step closer to you and you hate the way your eyes instantly drop down to her lips. It’s an instinct that no amount of time away from her can rewrite. “Let me prove it to you. Please.”

“You’re not going to fix this with a few kisses, Hailee.”

There’s an unspoken promise in her eyes. One that says she’ll kiss you as many times as she has to until she proves you wrong. And you have no doubt that she will.

Her hands move up from your waist to cup your cheeks. Her movements are slow and careful almost as if she’s waiting for you to change your mind.

In a way, you do because whatever remaining doubt you had about your feelings for the brunette fades away in an instant. You push away all your hesitation and close the gap between your lips.

It’s the sweetest kiss you’ve ever shared. It’s full of almost inaudible sighs, gentle touches, and the overwhelming truth of your desires. Mainly, the desire to keep going.

“One chance,” you whisper as you pull away. “I’ll help you with the music video. I’ll let you in again. Don’t make me regret it.”

“Promise.”

You’re about to tell her not to make promises she can’t keep but she kisses you again before you get the chance to.

[sidekick-hero]

caught in the careless arms of lust again

metaldeputy | explicit | 5.6k | tags: crossover Fargo/Stranger Things, No Upside Down, Modern AU, pwp | AO3

Dickinson, North Dakota was as much a shithole in Eddie's eyes as Hawkins, Indiana. The only real difference, as far as he can tell, is the cold, which is more biting than even the worst winter he ever experienced back home, and his balls are trying as hard as they can to crawl back into his body.

It's not like he wants to be here. There was no way in hell he was going to spend more time than it took to take a piss and pump some gas into his van in a state that was mostly God-fearing northern rednecks and a whole lot of nothing.

But of course, nothing ever goes according to plan in Eddie Munson's life, and his van broke down just as he was passing through Dickinson on Interstate 94. He'd seen the sign and giggled like a high school kid at the silly name, momentarily distracted and not looking at the road. That's why he didn't notice the damn deer until it was too late, and like the idiot he was, he swerved to avoid it, skidded on the slick icy road, and ended up in the ditch.

Luckily he wasn't going that fast, so after a few feet the car came to a stop in the snow, the engine dead and refusing to start no matter what he tried.

And now his van is in the hands of a guy named Ray at Ray's Auto Electric, while Eddie has to rent a room in a dubious looking hotel called the Badland Inn. It’s fifty bucks a night, which he certainly doesn’t have, but beggars can’t be choosers, and it’s too damn cold to even consider sleeping outside. Ray, who had taken one look at Eddie's long hair and tattoos before seeming to decide he wanted Eddie gone almost as much as Eddie wanted to be gone, said it would be at least three days, maybe more, depending on how fast he could get the part he needed to get his van running again.

And that's why Eddie is sitting in some dive bar, drinking a cheap watered-down beer, wallowing in self-pity, when Deputy Gator Tillman walks into his life.

At first he doesn't even turn his head to look at the man who just sat down next to him, just nods politely while staring into the smudged glass in his hands. It's only when the guy next to him orders a Bud Light, of all things, that Eddie can't help but snort. From what he's seen so far, the men here are manly men, drinking only the bitterest beer and the strongest whiskey while thumping their chests like apes.

"Something funny, shitbird?" The guy snarls at him.

And here we go again, Eddie thinks, already tired of what's sure to come.

"Listen, man," Eddie starts as he turns around to face whoever's ego he just bruised, only to be stopped by the sight in front of him.

The guy's hot, is the first thing that strikes him, square jaw, full lips, droopy eyes, and a slanted nose. His chestnut hair is slicked back and shaved with racetrack lines, as much a part of his machismo as the combat pants and bulletproof vest he's wearing. Too bad his face is just too pretty for any of it to work.

He must have been staring, because the hazel eyes looking back at him narrow even more, his whole face turning into a sneer that's still far more attractive than it has any right to be.

"What are you staring at, asshole?"

A ghost from my past, Eddie thinks. Because he once knew a boy who looked just like the guy before him, a boy who tried so hard to be the epitome of everything a wealthy white businessman's son in Bumfuck Indiana could want. He played all kinds of sports, was captain of the basketball and swim teams, had a new pretty girl on his arm every week, and sneered down at everyone below him as he looked on from his perch at the top of the high school food chain.

King Steve, a man who had been so goddamn pretty that Eddie could still remember all the times he had jerked off to fantasies of those lips and hands, and that juicy ass in Harrington's tiny gym shorts.

The man before him looked different, of course, but much of him was the same. Maybe that was the reason why Eddie didn't stop his mouth from running off on him.

"You. It's a nice view, that's for sure."

Even as he braces himself for a punch, Eddie can't tear his eyes away from the hauntingly familiar face in front of him as he sees the words land. They're mostly harmless. Not even a pretty boy or a sweetheart thrown in there. At least not yet.

The man's eyes widen, just a fraction, just enough for Eddie to notice. Just as Eddie notices the color rising up his neck and the way his tongue darts out to wet his lips. Gotcha, big boy.

"What did you just say to me?" The guy demands, taking a step forward, invading Eddie's personal space, bringing with him the smell of cologne and old sweat, tinged with something fruity Eddie can't quite put his finger on.

There’s enough of a height difference between them that Eddie can look up at him through his lashes from his seat. He curls his lips into a smile that has just enough edge to draw the guy’s eyes to it and keep them there.

"Paid you a compliment. Don't tell me a handsome guy like you doesn't get those all the time, huh?"

The brazenness makes the other man stumble, Eddie can tell by the way his mouth opens and closes without a sound coming out of it. He catches himself soon enough and leans back, pulling himself up to his full height and bringing his hands to his hips, drawing Eddie's eyes to where the tips of his fingers graze the gun strapped to his thigh.

Okay, this is how they're going to play this, apparently.

"Listen, you fucking pansy, I ain't got no idea why you think you can just come in here and talk to a man of the law like that, but I'm gonna show you where you and your kind can stick your disgusting tendencies."

This makes Eddie smile even wider. His mantra has always been 'fuck the law', so that's exactly what he's going to do. And he's pretty sure this particular lawman wouldn't mind. Just as Eddie is sure now that Harrington wouldn't have been opposed to Eddie's tendencies, but back then Eddie hadn't been the kind of guy to take such a risk. No experience, just a gut feeling, and that wasn't enough to risk getting his nose broken. Or worse.

Now, with more than a decade of hookups with supposedly straight guys under his belt, he knew the signs. And the guy right in front of him? A big fucking neon sign.

"I dunno, Sheriff. Maybe you’d rather I show you where I could stick my tendencies instead. I'm sure you can take it like a man, big boy."

Eddie makes sure to lean in again as he says this, letting his eyes roam over the guy's body in a blatant invitation that he really hopes will be taken. It's not like he has any trouble picking up guys, even in the backwoods he's been traveling through lately, though he does have to be a little more careful. But he wants this one, badly. He's sure he'll look like sin on his knees for Eddie, eyes as round and wet as his mouth wrapped around his dick, begging for anything Eddie is willing to give him.

The guy in front of him doesn't seem to be the sharpest tool in the shed, but he doesn't have to be, Eddie thinks. Not with that face. It takes him more than a few moments to work through Eddie's words, and the first thing he responds to is not what Eddie would think it would be.

"That's my dad." At Eddie's confused look, he adds, "Sheriff. My dad is Sheriff Roy Tillman. I'm his right-hand man, Deputy Sheriff Gator Tillman." He says, standing even straighter, voice dripping with pomposity.

"I figured you'd be a mouthful, Deputy Sheriff Gator Tillman."

Eddie gives him a wolfish grin and licks his lips, eyes focused on what he can make out of the bulge in the deputy's pants, which are frankly a little too loose. Guys like him should wear tight jeans or those gray sweatpants that show off the goods a lot better than fucking combat pants.

"The fuck you talkin' about, numbnuts?"

Yeah, not the sharpest tool in the shed. But maybe this is his chance to defuse the situation, turn it into a joke, and get the hell out before he finds himself behind bars or with his face bashed in. The Eddie of a few years ago would have run, just like he had run when Harrington had him pinned down at Skull Rock after Eddie had taken his flirting a little too far during a weed sale. He'd had the same look in his eyes that he sees on the Deputy's face now.

Hunger masked as anger.

So instead of running, Eddie decides to show his hand. Make his offer clear and see if the Deputy takes him up on it. And if not, he will hole up in the inn and hope that Ray gets his parts as soon as possible.

"I'm talking about your cock, Deputy." Eddie mutters.

He rises and positions himself to cover his hand as it reaches out to squeeze the bulge, feeling it swell under his touch. Big Boy, indeed. He takes a stumbling step forward to have an excuse to press himself against Deputy Tillman's hard body and leans in to whisper in his ear.

"Too bad we don't get to play with it. I'm sure you'd be so good." Eddie clicks his tongue against his teeth with a soft tzk. "But what can you do, right? Have a good evening, Deputy Sheriff Gator Tillman."

Counting on dear Deputy Tillman needing another moment to process what Eddie just said, he steps away from the other man and saunters out, heading toward the inn.

He hasn't even made it out of the parking lot before he hears the sound of heavy footsteps following him outside.

Bingo.

He keeps walking and doesn't turn around, but there's a pleased smile on his face. If the Deputy was going to bash his head in, Eddie hopes he would have done it by now. The footsteps behind him are faster than the saunter Eddie was taking, but they don’t charge at him, just follow a few steps behind.

Eddie makes sure to sway his hips as he walks, feeling the other man's eyes on him the whole way. He can't be sure, but he thinks they're fixed on his ass, and he's glad he put on his skinny jeans that hug his thighs and ass just right. Not that it will see much action tonight. Eddie knows what Deputy Tillman needs, and soon he’ll know it too when he’s on his knees and begging for it.

For now, Eddie lets him think that it's his tight ass that’ll be getting hit tonight.

The walk to the inn is silent and the cold air around them feels heavy, charged. Anticipation crackles under his skin like a summer storm brewing in the sky and he can't remember the last time he felt so alive.

After passing through the entrance, he waits at the bottom of the stairs until he hears the front door close again, and only then does he begin his ascent to his room on the fourth floor, climbing the stairs with the steady sound of steps creaking under two sets of feet.

When he finally reaches the door to his room, his chest is heaving from more than just the physical exertion. Something about the whole night feels so goddamn surreal, and he still half expects to wake up in a ditch after being beaten half to death for flirting with a fucking cop in a part of the country where that could very well get him arrested. Or worse. So much worse.

And yet here he is, inviting danger into his room, into his bed, into his arms.

Something about Deputy Tillman makes him forget everything he's learned about staying out of trouble.

In fact, he's walking right into it, with a devilish smile and a raging hard-on.

Eddie hears the heavy steps behind him coming to a halt as well and he can feel the presence of another body close to his. For just a second, he contemplates calling it off, taking the safe route, just like he promised his uncle to do. But then he remembers the hot, thick girth under his hand and the way Tillman reminds him of a ghost from the past that has come back to haunt him and thinks fuck the safe route.

Slipping the key into the lock and turning it to the right, he opens the door and walks into his room, turning on the light and waiting for trouble to follow him inside.

They still haven't said anything, not since Eddie so boldly proposed the Deputy Sheriff, but he thinks they both know why they're here.

"I take it you're here to play a little, Deputy?" He doesn't even turn around when he asks this, the question being mostly rhetorical anyway. Just him playing with his food, making Tillman admit why he followed Eddie here.

More silence answers him.

"Cat got your tongue? Don't tell me you're getting shy now." Eddie coaxes, finally turning to look at the young man he never expected to meet tonight. He's met with a defiant look on that awfully pretty face, eyebrows drawn together and lips almost pouting at him. Adorable, really.

"Fuck you," the Deputy spits, clearly at a loss for words, inferior in their duel of wits.

Eddie taps his chin mockingly, as if he has to think about it. "Nah," he finally concludes, "I think I'd rather fuck you."

His words don't immediately hit the Deputy, an almost cute look of confusion on his face before his eyes widen, first in shock, then in anger. Too bad the admittedly impressive bulge in his pants gives away just how much Tillman is not against the idea.

"But...you said...in the bar..." he stutters, more indignation in his words than in his voice. Oh, he's precious, Eddie thinks, just the kind of guy he loves to corrupt. He knows he lured the Deputy in with the vague promise of a blow job, and knowing what he packs in those hideous combat pants, Eddie thinks he might still do it. After all, he thinks the man will be much more pliable after a nice orgasm. He doesn't want to hurt his prey, he just wants to play with it, and if his prey enjoys it, that's all the better in Eddie's book.

Taking a step toward the other man, Eddie catches his eyes and raises an eyebrow. "Look, if you can't use your words, Deputy, then I can't use my mouth or my hands on you. Simple as that. Speak up or get out."

Delighted, Eddie notices Tillman's spine straighten at his tone.

Bingo.

It's clear the Deputy needs a firm hand.

With his chin sticking out, Tillman tries again, still stumbling over his words here and there, but doing a much better job than before. "You said I was a mouthful. That my," he pauses before venturing on, "that my cock was a mouthful and that you wanted to play with it."

"I did, didn't I?" Eddie wonders aloud, his eyes deliberately dropping to where the Deputy is still hard in his pants and licking his lips. "And you've been a good boy so far, haven't you, Deputy?"

Tillman nods eagerly, making Eddie grin. He just loves his men easy.

"Good boys get a reward, but I'm not sure you deserve my mouth on you just yet, Deputy. I think you need to show me how good you really can be." Another step forward brings Eddie close enough to the other man to see how his pupils have dilated, swallowing up the beautiful hazel of his eyes. He puts a hand on Tillman's shoulder, fingers spread wide so that his thumb presses into the hollow of his throat, and gently pushes him down to his knees without any real force.

The Deputy sinks to his knees in a fluid and graceful arc that sends the blood rushing to his cock so fast he feels dizzy for a second.

Fuck, who would have thought that a random cop he picked up in a bar in the middle of nowhere North Dakota would turn out to be the sweetest of temptations?

Certainly not Eddie.

"Gorgeous," he praises the man on his knees in front of him, because he is. He looks up at Eddie with wide eyes, dazed, as if he doesn't even know what he's doing here, but likes it anyway. Thumbing his full lower lip until it opens for him, Eddie can't help but want to see how far the man will let him go. When the Deputy sucks Eddie's thumb into his mouth without a second thought, Eddie doesn't even try to stop the moan that falls from his lips. It's obvious that the man kneeling before him is starved for praise, so giving it to him will only make him more eager.

He pulls his thumb out of Tillman's mouth, already missing the warmth, and unbuttons his jeans. He pushes them down just enough to free his cock, the cool air of the room making him shiver. "Now, let's see what you can do, Deputy," he murmurs, anticipation coiling in his belly.

Deputy Tillman doesn't answer with words, but with action, leaning in and enveloping Eddie's hard length in the wet heat of his mouth. It's a clumsy start, but Eddie is more than willing to show him the ropes. If he's honest, it only fuels the flame of lust burning brightly in his stomach to know that it's him the Deputy is on his knees for, sucking his cock when it's clearly something he wouldn't normally do.

It's only fair that Eddie teach him how to be a good boy for him.

Eddie guides the Deputy's movements with a hand tangled in his hair, enjoying the feeling of complete control. He expects Tillman to bitch at him for ruining his hair, but the only reaction he gets when he tangles it between his fingers and pulls is a broken moan. The night might've started with a broken-down van and ended up in a dive bar, but now, it's shaping into something Eddie never could've anticipated.

Tillman may have been clumsy at first, but with Eddie's guiding hand slowing his movements, the Deputy seems to get used to the feel of Eddie's girth in his mouth, growing more confident with every lick of his tongue and bob of his head.

Eddie continues to murmur encouragements into the quiet room, each one swallowed hungrily by the man on his knees before him. As the night stretches on, he finds himself lost in the pleasure, the cold North Dakota winter forgotten in the warmth of Deputy Tillman's mouth.

"God, you're good at this," he praises, voice hoarse and strained. The Deputy looks up at him then, surprise in his eyes, but Eddie recognizes a flicker of something else there, too. Pride. Satisfaction. It makes him smirk.

He allows himself to sink further into the sensation, guiding the Deputy's movements with a firm hand in his hair. When he hits that sweet spot at the back of his throat, Eddie can't help the groan that escapes his lips.

"That's it, Deputy," he encourages, "Just like that."

As Tillman's moans vibrate around him, Eddie can feel the tension building in the pit of his stomach, an all too familiar pressure that signals his impending release. He tries to hold back, to prolong the pleasure, but it's a losing battle. With one last thrust into the warm cavern of the Deputy's mouth, he succumbs to the pleasure. His hips buck and he spurts down the Deputy's throat, a guttural moan tearing from his lips.

Tillman swallows around him, his throat working around Eddie's length, milking him for all he's worth. When he's spent, Eddie pulls back, sliding out of the warmth of the Deputy's mouth with a sigh.

"Well," he pants, "I think that's enough for tonight, Deputy." Leaning back against the wall to catch his breath, he pulls up his pants and buttons them, ignoring the Deputy's whine at his words. It's been a long time since a simple blowjob left him feeling like that. Completely worn out, but deeply satisfied.

When he finally regains his composure, he looks down to see Deputy Tillman still on his knees, looking up at him with wide, dazed eyes. Eddie grins down at him, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

"Good boy," he purrs, watching as the Deputy's eyes flash with a mix of indignation and satisfaction.

Maybe tonight doesn't have to be over right now.

Smiling, Eddie steps over him and heads for the bed, leaving the Deputy on his knees in the middle of the room. He sinks down on the edge of the bed, his legs slightly apart, and takes in the sight before him.

It takes his breath away.

He can't get over how the hard lines of the man's strong body look unexpectedly soft in his vulnerable position, less coiled serpent and more obedient puppy. The Deputy has surpassed all of Eddie's expectations tonight and he wants to reward him. Wants to encourage this unsuspected side of him, maybe even dig a little deeper to find more of it.

Deputy Sheriff Gator Tillman is more than meets the eye and Eddie is itching to know how much more.

“Look at me,” he tells the kneeling man and after a moment’s hesitation, still slightly unfocused eyes find his. Eddie knows that this must have been pretty intense for someone who hasn’t done anything like that before and the Deputy looks like he’s still far away, only slowly coming back to the here and now. His eyes roam over where Eddie’s body is perched on the edge of the bed with a questioning look on his face.

"Very good," Eddie purrs and smiles down at him. "I promised you a reward, and after how well you did on your knees for me, I think you deserve my mouth on you now."

Hazel's eyes widen in pleasant surprise at the promise, but when the Deputy starts to get up, Eddie stops him. "Who said you could get up again, pretty boy?"

The look of confusion on the man's face is adorable, Eddie thinks before he can stop himself. This is neither the time nor the place to get attached. He can't deny that the Deputy has gotten under his skin, but he'll deal with that when he's back on the road and their night is a distant memory. Just another pretty boy haunting his dreams.

"If you want your reward, you have to come here to get it." He waits for his words to sink in, but the confused puppy dog look doesn't leave the Deputy's face, so he clarifies, "On your knees, Deputy."

He can tell the exact moment the words finally sink in when Tillman closes his eyes as his hips twitch eagerly. If he didn't just come his brains out of his dick and into the Deputy's mouth, Eddie would get hard again at the sight. The man keeps surprising him. No matter what Eddie throws at him, he takes to it like a fish to water, so eager to please, so easily led.

With an eager tilt of his pretty mouth, the Deputy crawls over to Eddie, staying on his knees as he moves between Eddie's spread legs, a look of hungry anticipation in his eyes. Eddie can't wait to show him what a real reward feels like.

He cups the man's face with his hand and pulls him closer so he can lean in and whisper in his ear. "Strip for me, pretty boy. Show me how beautiful you are."

For the first time since they started this whole thing, Deputy Tillman is using his mouth for something other than sucking on Eddie's thumb and cock. "Can I stand up for this?" He asks and Eddie hears some of the petulance creep back into his voice even though his words remain perfectly polite. Like a puppy, the man is eager to be good, but he also loves to test Eddie's limits.

"You may. But do it slowly, I want to enjoy the show."

"I thought this was my reward, not yours?"

Ah, there is the fire he was met with earlier, Eddie thinks. Despite what some people might think about him, he likes a challenge, and if the Deputy wants to make Eddie work for it, then he can. It's part of the game, and he enjoys it just as much as he did when the man was on his knees gagging for it.

Eddie leans back leisurely, spreading his legs a little wider, deliberately giving Tillman an unobstructed view of his slender body. He wears a smirk on his face, a confidence born from countless encounters of this kind. "Well, Deputy," he begins, his voice smooth like aged whiskey. The corners of his mouth twitch up into a devilish grin. "It's your reward, of course. But don't think for a second that I won't get my share of enjoyment out of this too." He leans in a little closer, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. "Now, show me what you've got."

Rising to his feet, the Deputy does as he's told and with every inch of tantalizing skin he reveals, Eddie's hands twitch with the desire to touch. His skin is smooth, the fine hair on it almost golden, with the exception of his chest hair, which is dark and thick. There are beauty marks of all sizes and shapes all over his body, little beacons that call out to him to put his mouth all over them. His body is athletic, arms and legs defined but not bulky like Eddie has seen a lot of cops. Those muscles come from physical work, not pumping at the gym.

Eddie's favorite part, though, are the Deputy's legs. They seem to go on for miles, the golden hair and thick thighs make his mouth water. He wants them wrapped around his waist as he pounds into the tight heat of what must be a virgin ass, eliciting broken moans and high-pitched whimpers. For now, though, he'll take those thighs wrapped around his head.

"Come here, Deputy," Eddie says, patting the bed next to him. "Let's see how good you can be for me." He can't wait to feel those strong thighs tremble around his head as he shows Deputy Tillman exactly how good his tendencies can feel.

With a slight hesitation, the Deputy crawls onto the bed, his movements a little awkward without his clothes on. But Eddie doesn't mind. It's just another sign of how new this is for him, how far out of his comfort zone he is. And Eddie likes that about him. The way he's willing to put himself out there, to try something new and scary. It's unexpected, but endearing. It makes Eddie want to reward him all the more.

He guides Tillman until he's straddling Eddie's chest, his knees resting on either side of his shoulders. His cock is hard and leaking against his belly and Eddie can't resist reaching up to wrap a hand around it, giving it a light squeeze. Tillman hisses at the touch, his hips jerking forward into Eddie's hand.

"Easy, Deputy," Eddie says, his voice low and soothing. "I told you, this is your reward. Just relax and let me take care of you."

Then he begins to stroke Tillman in earnest, his hand moving up and down his length in a slow, steady rhythm. He watches Tillman's face as he does so, watching as his eyes flutter closed and his lips part with a soft moan. The sight sends a rush of satisfaction through him, knowing he's the one making the Deputy feel this way.

But it's not enough. He wants to taste him as well. He wants to feel the way Tillman tastes on his tongue, the way he squirms and moans as Eddie takes him in his mouth. He wants to hear the way Tillman curses under his breath, the way he begs for more.

So he leans up, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of Tillman's cock before taking him in his mouth. The taste of him, salty and a little sweet, is intoxicating and Eddie moans around him, the vibration causing Tillman to gasp and buck his hips forward. But Eddie holds him steady, one hand on his hip as he continues to suck him off.

The sounds Tillman makes as Eddie works him with his mouth and hands are music to Eddie's ears. He can feel the way Tillman's body tenses under his touch, the way his breath hitches every time Eddie does something he particularly likes. And Eddie uses all of this to his advantage, learning what makes Tillman tick, what makes him moan and gasp and beg for more.

It's not long before Tillman is coming undone under Eddie's touch. His moans grow louder, his hips start to move in time with Eddie's strokes, and his fingers clutch at the sheets beneath them. And when he comes, Eddie swallows him down, his own cock throbbing in response to the sight of Tillman losing himself to pleasure.

But even after Tillman's body goes slack, Eddie doesn't stop. He licks him clean, pressing soft kisses to his sensitive skin until Tillman is squirming and whimpering beneath him. Only then does he pull back, his eyes meeting Tillman's as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

"That was your reward, Deputy," he says, his voice low and satisfied. "I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did."

The look in Tillman's eyes tells him he did, even if the Deputy can't find the words to say it. And that's more than enough for Eddie. Part of him thinks he'd actually like the Deputy to stay the night, to get comfortable under the blankets with a warm body in his arms for the first time in a long time. It's been a while since he felt connected enough to someone to let them stay close after they both got what they wanted out of their hookup.

Even longer since the last time Eddie considered a next time. And then another. It's a slippery slope, he knows, so he does the only logical thing.

He taps the thighs that are still clutching his shoulders until Tillman falls to the side and lies down beside him. Without looking at the other man, Eddie says, "I'm going to take a shower. I think it's best if you're gone when I get back."

Stripping off his clothes as he makes his way to the tiny bathroom, he continues to look everywhere but at the naked, beautiful man on his bed. They've both had their fun and now it's time to move on. Easy as that, right? Right.

Or not, because just as he opens the door to step out of the room that smells of sweat and sex, a deep, gravelly voice stops him.

"What's your name?"

Shit.

"Why? So you can look me up? Arrest me as soon as the sun comes up on some trumped up charge of sucking your dick?"

Maybe that's unfair, but in his experience you can't trust a cop, and it's on him that he forgot that, even for a second. That's what he gets for thinking with his dick.

"No," Deputy Tillman replies, his voice surprisingly soft. "I just want to know the name of the guy who just blew my fucking mind, is all."

And that's...huh. Eddie doesn't even know what to do with that.

"It's Eddie."

"Just Eddie?"

"That's all you need to know so you can moan it the next time you jack off, sweetheart." He turns around with a smirk as he says it, but he'd be lying if he said the thought of Tillman moaning his name didn't do it for him. If a next time wasn't such an epically bad idea, he'd like to hear it himself as he takes the man apart.

"Maybe I will," the Deputy replies, and Eddie wants to believe him. "Next time you should call me Gator, ya know? Only fair."

Next time?

"There won't be a next time, Deputy. This was a one-time thing."

And damn it, he shouldn't have turned around, because the look in Gator's-no, Tillman's-eyes is hurt.

It's not that Eddie enjoys hurting the guy, but it's better this way. Safer.

"Goodbye, Gator." He says as he steps into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

The hot shower feels good, relieving some of the tension that had crept into his shoulders and neck after their conversation. He loses himself in the task of getting clean, scrubbing away the remnants of the night, and when he steps back out into the empty bedroom, he almost feels like himself again. The last few hours hadn't been how he expected to spend his first night in this shithole of a town, but he can't say he regrets a single thing.

As he settles into the soft mattress, he can't help but think that despite all the trouble, Dickinson, North Dakota might not be so bad after all.

Happy very belated birthday @baronsamediswife 💜💜💜Thank you for indulging me and watching Fargo and Marmalade with me and letting me ramble about how pretty Joe Keery is.

[ash-and-starlight]

Books of 2023

the list nobody asked for <3

My reading habits had gone a bit stagnant in the past couple of years so this year i made the effort to engage in reading again and wow books really are good!! who would have thought! Sharing this year's book log with the small reviews i did while reading yeah i am That kind of list lover if u feel like being nosy, (and maybe even help mi crowdsource reading recs based on my likes 👀🤲?)

The left Hand of Darkness - Ursula K. Le Guin Ursula i Need to know your thoughts on omegaver- [gunshot] THAT ASIDE yeah. mrs Le Guin you've done it again. I can see why everyone got their brain chemistry altered by this book.

The Membranes - Chi Ta-Wei another brain chemistry altering book. would love to discuss it with a gender studies major lmao

Satanic Verses - Salman Rushdie its a v atmospheric and poignant story, I know I would have loved it more if I was familiar with the rich religious/cultural background it draws from

The Masquerade Series - Seth Dickinson Crazy insane in the membrane about this series. one of the most compelling worldbuildings I've ever seen, and most importantly it features one of the most crazy wet pathetic scrunkly meow meow protagonists i've ever had the pleasure of reading about.

Middlesex - Jeffrey Eugenides i liked the writing style of this book a lot! idk how well it holds up re: intersexuality topic, but its a very engaging read.

Dead Blondes and Bad Mothers: Monstrosity, Patriarchy, and the Fear of Female Power - Jude Ellison, Sady Doyle The title says it all honestly, its a beautiful, thought provoking and engaging essay, spanning eras, pop culture phenomenons, and real life events on the topic of women and horror.

The cat who saved books - Sōsuke Natsukawa this was so cute and heartfelt, it will really make you go Ah Yes, this is Why we Love Books <333

The Locked Tomb Series - Tamsyn Muir now when people say there is a girl who is the cursed sacrifice of 2000 infants who falls in love with the sleeping embodiment of the soul of the Earth (barbie) and also another girl who is the only survivor of the aforementioned sacrifice and is. a Jesus metaphor? and also the two girls become one at some point. and every book is a different genre. and god is bisexual. and memes survived the nuclear apocalypse. I can just nod and say so true.

The Area X Trilogy - Jeff VanderMeer Rotating this series in the microwave of my mind at the speed of light it's soSO GOOD!! the movie doesn't even come close honestly u NEED to read the books. and then go touch grass and be aware of every strand in a completely new way.

The Dawn of Yangchen - F. C. Yee nice read! I was more invested in the worldbuilding crumbs than in the actual story lmao, I will forever think about the HEATED airball rivalry between the air temples and about the swt greetings / bethrotal armbands.

Inuit Stories of Being and Rebirth: Gender, Shamanism, and the Third Sex - Bernard Saladin d'Anglure starting w a disclaimer bc I feel like the topic of native colonization was ignored when it should have been way more prominent when talking about the context of where and when these testimonies were collected?? That aside it was very interesting and well put together, with first account testimonies of Inuit elders about their myths, lifestyles and beliefs.

Pachinko - Min Jin Lee i read the book after having seen the tv series (which i also rlly recommend). Very moving story about a family and its generations, from Korea under Japanese colonization to modern day America.

Her body and other parties - Carmen Maria Marchado sometimes I go about my day then I remember this book exists and stare at the wall for 30 minutes.

Dictionnaire de l'impossible - Didier Van Cauwelaert big miss. this collection of articles about "strange impossible phenomenons" sounded so quirky and interesting but i sure would have loved if the author hadnt so clearly picked a side. and also way too much church for my tastes.

He who Drowned the World - Shelley Parker Chan Im not even gonna speak about this one if you've followed me since july you know what pits of insanity and despair i'm in

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow - Gabrielle Zevin Sometimes!! the book with pretty covers put in the "famous on socials" bookstore section!! are good!! It's about being othered it's about connection it's about diaspora it's about love and friendship and most of all it's about viddy games.

Station Eleven - Emily St. John Mandel reading this post-covid and learning it was written in 2017 was A TRIP. Psychic damage at every page. still feeling very normla.

The Mask of Apollo - Mary Renault Ugh i desperately wanted to like this book because the setup is so interesting and full of potential, but the end result was just. flat. flat story flat characters the plot focusing on the wrong things at the wrong times i was so DONE when i reached the end otz.

Babel - R. F. Kuang LOVED the worldbuilding in this, the "lost in translation" system of magic is one of the most interesting things ive ever read. I think theres something about the writing in general that didn't win me over completely?? but all in all a very good

Red Ocean - Han Song This sure is a Book. That i've Read. its so profundly strange and unlike anything ive come across that i dont even know what to feel about it. i think 90% of my confusion comes from Not Getting Cultural References so if someone has a "red ocean explained" essay plz send it my way bc i couldnt find one.

[thefirstknife]

Hi Bel,

I keep seeing comments about people complaining about the quality of destiny’s writing and story in the last few weeks. I haven’t really engaged with destiny since season of defiance, what’s currently gotten everyone so riled up? I thought that people were enjoying Season of the Deep/Witch in terms of narrative, why is Season of the Wish causing people to deride the destiny writing staff again?

I don't know!

Deep and Witch have been absolute bangers in every aspect to me. I've been enjoying all interactions and lore tabs we've received. A lot of them are stuff that we've never had before, a lot of reunions and closures, a lot of development and interactions between characters who you wouldn't really think would have much in common.

Sloane's return and healing from what she's been through has been fantastic, Drifter opening up with her to help her because he also got help from others was fantastic, Sloane reuniting with Aisha and Shayura brought me to tears (Shayura's descent into madness was triggered by immense trauma of Sloane staying on Titan and Titan disappearing), everything with Sloane and Zavala...

Witch was just incredible in every single way; the focus on Eris, the amount of Eris and Ikora content!!!!! Everything about Xivu and Savathun and their interactions together!! Eris finally fulfilling her goal she promised Savathun YEARS ago, getting that closure.

Wish so far has been equally great to me. All the new stuff about Ahamkara is amazing, finally giving us proof for long-standing speculation about Ahamkara and how they aren't universally evil creatures and expanding on them as a species. I love all interactions we've had so far; finally we have Petra back, Mara's singleminded focus on figuring out how to defeat the Witness and her continuous work to improve as a person, ALL SJUR MENTIONS!!!!! I won't talk about the "leak" because we have no context for it so I will wait for the full story to be revealed before I can pass judgment; something that I think should be a lesson to learn from this entire year. Maybe wait for the story to finish before judging the story.

Literally everything this past year that involves Osiris, but especially this season now that he's back in his element with the Vex. And of course every little detail we get of him and Saint. Osiris honestly shaped this year for me with everything that he's done to uncover the biggest mysteries. I think a big reason is that a lot of people just don't like Osiris, which I consider a massive skill issue.

Other than that, I don't know what are the issues people have besides just not being interested in any of these storylines and attributing it to a nebulous "bad writing" claim. I also genuinely believe that way too many people get wrapped up too much in fandom, imagine storylines they want to see and then get disappointed when the actual story doesn't go there. Almost like people forget that this isn't their story and these aren't their characters. A lot of it is also fandom completely warping characters into not what they actually are and then feeling like the canon story is the one that's wrong.

Whatever is the reason, I guess everyone is entitled to their perspective of the story and everyone is free to explore the story in different ways through fanfics and AUs and whatever. I do that too!

But I would definitely ask people to be normal with how they engage in criticism, especially in the current state of affairs. Writers are developers; they experience a ton of harassment and negativity from the community and also from inside the company. And they are online: they can see what we're saying. It's been documented that community commentary has been used to harass writers:

Imprint this into your brain and never forget what these people had to go through. Let's not forget also the way people treated Seth Dickinson on social media when he was active with Destiny fans. "Fans" were actively arguing with him about his own work (telling him that HE is wrong) and were utterly disgusting towards him when he tried explaining what he wrote. His works are now hailed as the best writing in Destiny and people want him back. If I were him, I wouldn't want to come back ngl, not with how he was treated and not with how fans are still treating writers (and hey, Seth wrote LF Collector's Edition! So he was back, technically, this year!). Let's not forget that a lot of writers are members of various marginalised groups. And I'd definitely not want to go back with zero support from leadership.

Which is also an important aspect for all developers, including writers: sometimes they have orders they may not like, but can't argue against. They do the best they can with what they're given, the time they have and directions they receive. And with that in mind, I am enjoying everything we've gotten this year, obviously with some specific complaints about things I didn't particularly enjoy (like the universally mid reception of Defiance; I've spoken about my gripes with it before, a big one being the shafting of Suraya who should've at least been mentioned in a lore tab).

I can tell that there is passion in their work, even if maybe they would prefer to do more with it, but can't. Maybe even if they want to take different routes, but can't. But from what we got, I can feel that they care about this world and these characters. I can tell that someone lovingly wrote about Sloane and her friendships with two grieving women. I can tell that they deeply cared about Sloane's friendship with Zavala and that they loved showing us Saint and Drifter caring about a fellow trauma survivor.

I can tell that the writers are immensely careful and loving towards Eris; everything she went through was crafted with love and passion from both writers and her VA. Eris' story is such a fundamental aspect of Destiny and I can tell that this was important to the writing team and that they gave her everything they could to do justice to her character and her arc and her healing and her release from the cycle she was trapped in for so long.

I can tell that there are writers who care a lot about Osiris and Saint and their relationship. I can tell that someone cared a lot about expanding on Ahamkara and giving them more personalities. I can tell that someone cared DEEPLY about Sjur and Mara and that her repeated mentions are the passionate work of writers who want us to remember her.

I could go on. And I know that not everyone sees it this way, which is fine; we all have different ways of perceiving stories. I enjoy discussing things we in the fandom disagree on and I enjoy hearing different perspectives! Unfortunately, this has recently become rarer and rarer. And for the love of god, please try and treat writers with some respect, especially now, especially those who are still working and doing their best with the shitty situation they're in. None of the cries of "poor devs" ring true to me unless the same is given to writers, instead of treating them like punching bags.

[metamatar]

i've heard good things about a memory called empire so i'm curious. can i ask why you gave it a lowish score?

To restate, I thought the book was decent, not excellent. I plan on reading the sequel! I thought it was a technically impressive debut novel with interesting worldbuilding that stumbled a little because of pacing and some bad poetry. Thematically I had more problems.

My biggest problem was that while it was a novel that wanted to talk about imperialism and indeed was presented as one by the author, it chose the closed elite focused setting of court intrigue. I'll admit I'm harsh on court intrigue because it bores me, and ideologically most of them espouse a Great Man perspective of history so. Imperialism ended up being realised merely as a concern of cultural preservation, with the difference between imperial subject and the core repeatedly becoming a matter of taste over the more interesting concerns of exploitation or agency. Which is also what I hate about diaspora lit, where the individual elite immigrant's sense of cultural alienation is front and center. Hence the reference to Baru, because where the hell is your political economy! Martine also critiqued Seth Dickinson for writing the Maskerade empire as unrealistic because it was too brutal, which makes this choice by Martine make a depressing kind of sense.

I'm admittedly cynical about this but I really dislike when writers write novels about how 'storytelling' or in this case 'poetry' changes the world in dramatic ways. It reads very much as pandering to readers who need to be told that their hobby is important or something. Something Vonnegut quote about Vietnam War artistic opposition having the effect of a custard pie.

That said, the book had more interesting thoughts on the nature of culture/self and consciousness as embedded in memory through the imago machine as a device. The chapters dealing with that in the last third of the book were some of the best SFF writing I've read this year.

[frociaggine]

do you have any book recommendations? anything like the locked tomb or just fantasy/science fiction in general? :)

Hi anon I LOVE GIVING BOOK RECS!

Unfortunately I haven’t found anything quite like TLT, but when you break it into main themes some other series come close. So, if you liked The Locked Tomb for…

Morally ambiguous lesbians and oppressive empires? Try The Traitor Baru Cormorant by Seth Dickinson. I love Baru as a character and I love and what the book does with themes of cultural assimilation and how the road to a righteous goal is paved with moral compromises until you’re not sure you’re still on the right path. Content warning for institutional homophobia, which affects the plot and the main character. It’s never gratuitous, but it’s pretty much the opposite of TLT under that point of view so heads up.

Unique worldbuilding, queer characters, distinctive sense of place in a land that was once Earth? Try The Fifth Season by NK Jemisin. This isn’t to everybody’s tastes (usually people love it or hate it) but it does some VERY cool things with scifi and deservedly won a Hugo.

Intricate worldbuilding, necromancy, gothic vibes? Try The Bone Orchard by Sara Mueller. This definitely hits the same “confused and confusing female main character who doesn’t know her own mind” vibes as HtN, which can be good or bad depending on your tastes, but the necromancy bits are fantastic.

Oppressive planetary empires and queer characters? Try A Memory Called Empire by Arkady Martine. This too is about cultural assimilation and has a main murder mystery plot. Space opera about a young diplomat in a precarious position who is sort of sharing her mind space with someone else. Bonus: fun scifi worldbuilding based on some lesser-known historical empires.

Other SFF I read or reread in 2022

City of Stairs by Robert Jackson Bennett for worldbuilding, shady empires, female MC, urban fantasy vibes with a strong sense of place and a murder mystery thrown in for flavour.

Deeplight by Frances Hardinge. YA fantasy with horror vibes that I very much enjoyed as an adult not usually keen on YA. There are scary eldritch gods, toxic relationships with a hopeful ending, excellent fantasy worldbuilding, a really solid sense of civilization (especially the Deaf culture of the divers that is really interwoven in the setting). Sea monsters! Secrets! Street urchins! This is one of my all-time favourites.

The Scholomance series by Naomi Novik, starting with A Deadly Education; the third book came out two weeks after Nona and it gave me emotional whiplash, because (spoiler!) the angry goth girl gets to be happy in this one! YA, very vivid very fun worldbuilding, spunky teenage heroine with a cynical disposition and death powers.

Obligatory rec for Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell just because it’s one of those books that make me feel like I’m a richer person for having read them. It’s an impressive alternate history fantasy, the writing is masterful, the fae villain is unsettling and inhumanly evil, the mundane villains (pettiness, spite, centuries-old institutions) provide excellent dramatic irony. Everyone is insufferable in a petty way that’s also endlessly entertaining, and the two titular characters are absolutely obsessed with each other. The prose is a pastiche and tremendously well written. My only nitpick is that there are way too many men. I get why, given the setting the premise and the characters, and I loved the book, but since this rec originated with an ask about TLT I feel like I have to clarify that the gender ratio is pretty much the polar opposite.

My Heart Is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones if you like spunky teenage girl protagonists, poetically described gore, critique of colonialism and indigenous displacement. This is a horror thriller not a sff, sent in the contemporary US, and it’s basically a love letter to the horror movie genre + Native American folk legends. Reccing it anyway because YMMV but to to me it really hit some of the spots that HtN does. (Content warning for off-screen CSA)

The Gone World by Tom Sweterlitsch. Speculative fiction thriller, lots of jumping between alternate timelines and wondering what exactly is going on. It’s not flawless but it’s unabashedly weird in a very fun, very unique way that I really appreciated.

Under the Pendulum Sun by Jeannette Ng. Unique worldbuilding, distinct narrative voices, gothic vibes, weird religious imagery. Fantasy historical fiction about cruel inhuman fae, the worldbuilding is brilliant and very vivid (and what an aesthetic it is!), the story is fucked up in a delicious way, and the prose is a delightful Brontë pastiche. Content warnings for consensual sibling incest and Christian missionaries on a mission of “civilization” through faith (it’s not portrayed in a positive way but the colonialism is definitely there).

[I only flagged content warnings that aren't canon-typical for TLT, but definitely more apply. If you need clarification on a specific book HMU]

[compacflt]

my apologies if this is too simple or juvenile or personal a question but HOW did you become such a proficient writer? and do you have any tips or pointers to keep in mind? i know you must do a lot of reading and a lot of writing, but your skill is just incredible to me. your prose!! your cadence!! when we get around to talking about it is genuinely one of the best things i've ever read and i'd eat it if i could!!!

this ask was so sweet thank you!! rly made my day when i needed a boost. Hope you don’t mind i took a couple days to think about it cause no one’s ever asked me for writing advice before

idk how i became a “proficient” writer bc I really don’t write that much. something about my fic gave me brainworms and i went into overdrive but that’s…not my usual MO. which is why it’s weird for me too. admittedly i am studying english/creative writing as my second major at uni, but i haven’t learned anything in any of my classes you couldn’t learn by just reading and writing on your own. honestly i should’ve stuck with my IR major instead, i find structured cw classes a complete waste of time. but here are some little tips i thought of that would’ve helped ME:

This is more a “do as I say not as I do” because I’m really bad at habits like this, but keep a diary. You can write about the big events (went to the store, did homework, got laid etc.) but that’s boring—focus on the details (watched someone at west side market throw a glass bottle of olives at a rat, broke a pen and permanently stained my dorm desk and won’t get my deposit back which pissed me off because I move out in a week, this guy’s breath smelled like lemon pledge and it made me wonder if he drank window cleaner before kissing me etc.). Real life is really interesting! How can you write about interesting real life in an interesting way? It’s a good way to practice. You don’t have to do a big reflection at the end of the day or anything. It’s okay to jot down something you saw & then immediately forget about it. It’s the act of figuring out how to translate life into words that’s important

If you type, learn how to type FAST. This is just my experience, but I think typing faster makes your cadence, clause length, dialogue, IDEAS flow better/more naturally. We think in words/sentences, not letters.

This is a super lame tip that’ll make you roll your eyes, but read poetry. Poetry is all about how words/ideas/images sound and interact with each other. Don’t get hung up on one poet—im not really recommending any for precisely this reason—read poetry you love (for me, Ada Limón, Jack Kerouac, Frank O’Hara, ghazals etc) AND read poetry you hate (for me, Rupi Kaur, Emily Dickinson, Whitman, etc)! Read all genres you can get your hands on. (I think there are like “great poetry anthologies” you can find for free online if u don’t know where to start. Also you can’t go wrong with subscribing to/reading a variety magazine like the NYer. It’s pretentious but it exposes you to all kinds of weird topics, ways of writing about them, etc.) Figure out how certain combinations of words and punctuations make you FEEL, and why, and why the writer chose (or not) to make you feel that way. Figure out which literary sounds you like and which ones you don’t. For me, i figured out that I REALLY like alliteration, comma splices, zeugmas, the rule of three, and

“he’s [verb]ing again… yeah compacflt’s characters are [verb]ing again… big shocker”

If you have an idea for a piece, figure out what it is you really want to get out of it—to say something? to experiment with a different style? to see your fav characters do something? to have fun?—and then figure out how, on a technical level, you should write to match that goal (this is where the poetry training comes in handy). If you’re just writing to have fun, don’t listen to any writing advice (incl. mine), because most of it is bullshit and over-generalized and will make you feel bad about yourself. Just take the advice that you think will work for what YOURE trying to write.

But if you’re writing to explore some political idea, then you should think about HOW to best write about that idea. What would be a convincing story/allegory/scene to engage with this idea vs. not convincing. I talk on this blog all the time about how disappointed I am that my very-adult-grown-up attempt to deal with the dynamic of “immovable internalized homophobia vs unstoppable falling in love anyway” is rendered a little childish/immature by some pretty unconvincing plot points like the characters buying a house together—I really should have considered how that plot point would interact with the characterizations I’d built already (hint: poorly). You can think of writing as kind of a military structure if that helps—you have strategy on the overarching campaign (plot/character growth/allegory/theme) level, the battle (scene that advances the above) level, and the tactical (sentence-level construction/syntax/wording) level. They all have to work together. If a scene is failing to properly engage with the idea you’re trying to convey, you’re losing a battle that will weaken the overarching campaign. Same thing if you choose a weird word in a sentence/write in a style or tone that’s weirdly out of place with your idea—it makes your engagement with the theme/idea less convincing. just try to be purposeful and consider your strategy on all levels of your work as you’re writing it!! At the very least it’ll make editing easier lol.

But then again when I read my own writing from just a couple months ago I cringe out of my skin, so like—just also accept that it’s a process and we’re all just making it up as we go along. Be proud of being embarrassed of your old work, because it means you’re growing. Own that shit. When I finished writing WWGATTAI i thought it was the best thing I’d ever written, and maybe it was. But since the day I finished working on it, it’s the worst thing I’ve written since then. That’s a great feeling. Not to be like writing grindset obviously bc it’s supposed to be fun—but if what you want is to get better at writing, the strategy is to WRITE a whole bunch of shit, and then own your embarrassment about how much you’ve grown since you started. And know you’re still always growing and learning. there should never be any “goals” where skills are concerned 👍🏽

[pynkhues]

Ohh, if you're doing recasting of things, any thoughts on The Philadelphia Story and/or The Big Sleep? Rewatching TPS for the nth time the other night got me pondering

Ooo, those are both hard ones! I find a lot of Old Hollywood classics a challenge, probably because they're so iconic and engrained in pop culture, but also because acting styles have changed so much since the 1940s and 50s. To try and fit actors into the roles kind of feels like it fundamentally changes the tone and style, but that's not necessarily always a bad thing, haha.

Still! Let's have a go.

(Quick note: since all the actors in The Philadelphia Story were in their late 20s to mid 30s when they shot it, I've tried to cast actors in that age window, even though I think you could age all of them up given the nature of the story.)

Mia Goth as Katharine Hepburn's Tracey Lord

I kinda just think Mia Goth can do most things, haha, but I actually think she was a revelation in Emma, which is - I'm pretty sure - her first foray into a genre outside of horror and sci-fi. She's got such a warmth in it, especially opposite Anya Taylor-Joy who I mmm, Struggle With as an actress. I feel like she could deliver just the right amount of chaos as Tracey, while also holding her own charisma-wise against Hepburn's boundless screen presence.

Paul Mescal as Cary Grant's Dexter Haven

This was actually the one I struggled with the most, because it's hard to find an actor who could balance dickishness with genuine charm these days in the way that Cary Grant (and a lot of the Golden Age Hollywood men) could. If anyone can do it though, I feel like it'd have to be Paul Mescal.

Dev Patel as Jimmy Stewart's Mike Connor

Funnily enough, I've actually thought Dev Patel and Jimmy Stewart have a similar energy on screen for a while? I'm not sure how to describe it, but there's a sort of warmth and affability to them even when they're playing characters that should feel - - I don't know. Harsher maybe. Anyway, I love them both as actors, and I think Dev could make Mike as easy to fall-in-love-with as Jimmy did.

Molly Gordon as Ruth Hussey's Liz Imbrie

I suddenly realised that everyone I've recast so far is either British or Irish, haha, so let's add an American to the mix! I have a big soft spot for Liz, and a big soft spot for Ruth Hussey too (The Uninvited, my beloved). Having her sort of wry, gentler energy to offset Katharine Hepburn's and the rest of the cast's highly strung chaos has always been something I've really liked, and I think Molly Gordon could bring something unique to the part.

Harris Dickinson as John Howard's George Kittredge

Can you believe John Howard was only 27 when they shot this? WILD. The George role is a pretty thankless one, especially between Cary Grant's scene chewing and Jimmy Stewart's effortless warmth, and I think it's a testament to Howard that you can see him as a viable option for Tracy at all. I've seen Harris Dickinson in quite a few things now, and think he can have a pretty grounding presence in a lot of more absurd premises (Triangle of Sadness and Scrapper spring to mind), and I feel that's what a role like this needs.

The Big Sleep feels a bit harder, but I'll have a think! Bogie and Bacall are just so iconic, haha.

[shysneeze]

congratulations on 3k, you deserve it! for the event, could i request a blurb with prompt “your voice has always been so calming to me.”?

thank you!!! and thank you for enabling my reading to my s/o agenda: i hope you enjoy :)

warnings: robin has a nightmare and wakes up a little panicky but pure fluff beyond that

Robin wakes with a start, skin slick with sweat, lungs fighting for panicked breaths. She squints, trying to determine her surroundings in the dark as she gulps in a few deep breaths.

“You’re okay, Rob,”

Your voice is tired, gentle but hoarse. First, it finds her ears, then settles a calmness deep into her bones. She sinks a little, easing into the hand hovering over her spine, waiting for her.

“S’okay,” You tell her, running your hand gently down her back, “Just a bad dream, Rob…”

Robin nods, a little disoriented as you trace circles against her back. You pull away for only a second, to grab a glass of water from your bedside table, passing it into her shaky hands.

“Take a drink,” You urge gently, “That’s it, good…”

She passes you the glass back, allowing you a moment to return it to the bedside before she settles against you, sinking down onto the mattress, head nestling against your belly.

“‘M sorry,” She mumbles, “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You tut softly, fingers finding her hair and using your free hand to clasp hers, squeezing softly to ease the trembling from her fingers.

“Don’t be silly, Rob,” You whisper, “Wanna talk about it?”

Robin shakes her head against your side, curling closer into your body as you hum softly in understanding.

“What can I do?” You ask, pushing a few strands of her from her eyes, “Will I turn on the light?”

Robin sits up just slightly to nod, and even in the dark, you can see something held back behind her lips, tight brows and nervous eyes.

“What is it, bub?” You ask, leaning over to flick your bedside lamp on before returning to gently cup her chin, “You can ask me anything, you know?”

“What are you reading?”

You frown, lips quirking slightly.

“What?”

“You were reading before bed…”

You turn, slightly amused, to the book sat on your bedside. You reach out for it, revealing it to her with a tired smile.

“Dickinson’s poetry,” You inform, “Why do you ask?”

“Read to me?”

You chuckle softly, nodding as she settles back against you side. You pull the book open, last page marked by a photo strip of you and Robin on one of your first dates. You pass it down to her, and she picks it up to inspect with a small smile finally growing on her cheeks.

She turns gently to kiss your side through your pyjama shirt, eyes flickering shut as you begin to read aloud. Through the thin fabric of your shirt, you can feel her smile.

“What?” You pause from your reading, “Is it cheesy? You asked me to read so-“

“It’s not cheesy,” She assures, smiling up at you, “It’s just… your voice has always been so calming to me.”

Heat blooms in your chest, smiling as you hand once again finds her hair, pushing it off her clammy forehead.

“Shut your eyes again, Rob.”

Her tiredness does most of the work, but Robin’s eyes flutter shut, and for a moment, she looks so beautiful there against you that none of the poetry in your book can compare.

“Love you,” She whispers sleepily, “So much,”

“I love you too, Robin.”

You return then to the poetry, reading in soft whispers, one hand still stroking at her hair until she slumps against you entirely, lips slack with tiny snores.

You admire her again for a moment, glad to see her calm again. Carefully, you pull the photo strip from her hands, settling it back between the pages of the book. Placing the book back on the nightstand, you turn the light off and carefully lower yourself back against the mattress, holding Robin steady in your arms, before shutting your own eyes again.

[oh-jesus-in-the-air]

@nico-di-angelfish tagged me,, and I forget to do these if I don’t do them immediately so here are my 9 (current) favorite albums:

1 and 2 are both albums by The Clash. The first is their debut album, which has Remote Control, Garageland, and Hate and War. I love how gritty and honest it all is; strummer and jones both sound so sincere. Sandinista is my favorite album by them. It's a weird mishmash of sounds, but it's true. If you want to understand the album, listen to Washington Bullets, Corner Soul, and Something about England. I realize London Calling's absence is controversial.

3 is The Black Parade. This album got me through my first semester in college. I could listen to it for hours with friends trying to decipher what on earth is going on. Every time I think I've got a good grasp on it- it slips away.

4 is Sweeney Todd. I had to include Sondheim somehow, and I think this is one of his best works. Johanna (quartet), Epiphany, and the final sequence are unskippable. Also,, "and though I'll think of you I guess until the day I die, I think I miss you less and less as every day goes by, Johanna" it's not sad, it's just... you sort of forget as you're watching that it's the system that made Sweeney, and he's not inherently a bad guy. "And you'd be beautiful and pale and look too much like her. If only angels could prevail, we'd be the way we were". Sweeney throughout the show doesn't try to make the audience like him. sometimes he explains his world view, but it's not in search of acceptance. This is the one time where he's letting his softer emotions out and we see the man that once was.

5. I don't even know where to begin. I'm talking about the 1973 version. Nothing more to say.

6 is representative of Willam Finn in general, but @nico-di-angelfish already put falsettos. I think I listen to 25th Annual more anyway, especially lately. I made the mistake a few years ago of only listening to the first few songs and dismissing it. Do not do that. Listen to the end- watch it live if you can because the context is sort of important. Not the context- but you need to know the characters so that you can let yourself feel. If you get to "the I love you song" and still don't get it... I don't know what else to tell you

spring awakening is my 7th pick. I love spring awakening but I fully realize that if I hadn't seen a production of it this year, it wouldn't be in the running. but I did, so it's here.

Phantom of the Opera is here because apparently Jesus Christ Superstar wasn't enough Lloyd Webber for me. I'm talking specifically about the original cast album with brightman and crawford. It's a beautiful album and playing it will always brighten (ha!) my day. Like,,, the clash is many things, but it's not beautiful. Sure, Dickinson might say beauty and truth are one- but the distinction is there because the clash is so true it's beautiful, while phantom is so beautiful it's true.

Hamilton is obligatory, because I owe Hamilton a lot. I hardly ever listen to it anymore but it belongs here.

I tag whoever wants to do this! Also I tag @bestoftimes-worstoflimes

@nico-di-angelfish did you know everything I would include?