#Don’t get me wrong the guy like knows a lot and he definitely exudes older energy
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heavenbarnes · 6 months ago
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The way olderbf!simon and reader met is so cute even if it’s cliche, because I don’t see that man interacting with anyone unless he’s forced to lmao. If you’re up to it, could you maybe do a drabble on how the beginning/talking stage of their relationship goes? This man probs has to rehearse what he’s going to say 25 times (literally me) and still fumbles over his words but reader is still just 😍 yes this is the man I’m going to marry
they definitely needed a meet cute to me cause honestly? where are their paths ever going to cross without manual intervention? 🫶🏼
after you get that “it’s simon” text from older bf!simon it’s you that actually has to make the first move.
that’s not to say he doesn’t text you or anything, god when doesn’t he text you?
at all odd hours and just about anything-
“at the supermarket”
“what you watching? i’m watching top gear”
“what’s your favourite colour?”
“i’m at the gym”
you were a little confused at first by how abrupt and to-the-point his messages could be.
and then you remembered that this was the same guy who prefers a grunt to the common conversation, he probably thought he was doing great.
so when you were getting in your own head about why he hadn’t asked you out yet, you also remembered that this was the same guy who thought he could fuck up a cappuccino.
he was probably- scared?
whatever it was, you realised if you wanted to see him as bad as you did, you were going to have to pony up and ask yourself.
“did you want to maybe get dinner sometime?”
he called you.
no sooner had the ‘seen’ shown up, he was calling you.
“uh, hello? simon?”
“are y’forreal?”
excuse me?
if anyone else had asked you that question you probably would’ve scoffed and hung up.
he was lucky he was so hunky.
and subtly insecure.
“yes, i’d like to get dinner with you”
he paused, a quiet moment passing between the two of you with only a little shuffling in the background of his line.
and a little shouting in the distance.
was he on base?
“yes please”
you’d been a little distracted trying to pick any little bits of information you could (more than just his favourite colour, it’s green by the way) that you didn’t get his response.
instead, you hummed a little ‘huh?’
“i’d like t’get dinner with’ya, yes please”
“oh- great, i can text you some details?”
“yeah, i’d like that”
you weren’t really sure how to end the call or why he’d even called in the first place- but he wrapped it up with a few mumbles.
“jus’ wanted to hear y’say it, wanted t’make sure”
he shows up at dinner without a mask on and you’re sure you’re staring up at him like he’s made of moonlight but you can’t find it within yourself to care.
fuck he’s handsome.
and broad, the buttoned shirt he’s wearing just stretches over his arms where he’s rolled the sleeves to his elbows.
borderline pornographic.
you try to shut your own mind up, realising all the man’s done is open the restaurant door for you and you’re literally have salacious thoughts about him.
have some decorum!
he pulls out your seat for you but insists on sitting with his back to a wall and a line of sight to the door. you don’t mind, it means the light behind him virtually makes him glow.
fuck he’s handsome.
his voice is so deep you have to lean in on the table to hear him and all it means is you can smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off of him.
when he locks eyes with the waiter he does a subtle little flick of his fingers and the man’s heading right for him- he really exudes an air of dominance.
if you don’t marry this man you might die.
he asks you a lot of questions and seems genuinely surprised when you ask ‘and you?’ after every one.
surprised that somebody would care.
he answers with an endearing honesty and you feel all the better for knowing he prefers tea to coffee and starts his day with a cold shower.
his hand fidgets on the table part way through dessert and you have to ask what’s wrong.
“y’got a little somethin’ there”
he gestures to the corner of his mouth. it isn’t lost on you that his fingers immediately go back to flexing around the table cloth.
your hand doesn’t even move to wipe your mouth, your eyes soften just a little as you speak instead.
“you can get it if you want?”
his heart all but stops.
big hand rising to your face, fingers cupping your jaw as his thumb wipes the smudge of cream from the corner of your mouth.
he brings his thumb to your mouth when your tongue peeks out to lick the tip of it.
simon’s knee hits the underside of the table.
and you giggle.
fuck he’s handsome.
reluctantly, he lowers his hand but leaves it on your side of the table so you can hold it. his skin feels rough but he thinks it’s never been softer than when you’re holding it.
you both opt to walk home (hand still in hand) and you’ve never felt safer. you spend the entire walk talking about nothing and everything and you could scream when you end up at your front door.
it does allow you both to linger, neither one of you wanting to call it a night quite yet.
simon seems good at lingering, at yearning, at putting off what he doesn’t and does want.
so, like you were the one to make the first move-
you’re the one to make the second.
(his tongue feels great on yours)
you go to bed alone that night and it makes the most sense but it also fucking sucks because you know-
you know what you want.
and what you want is currently walking home beneath streetlights with the biggest smile he’s had this side of enlistment.
you accept the fact you��ll need to take things slow, that he obviously needs time and a lot of reassurance and you’d hate to push him too far with your own desire and-
and your phone buzzes.
“coffee tomorrow morning?”
“yes please”
the talking stage really doesn’t last long.
not when you’re kicking your feet in bed and hugging your phone to your chest.
not when johnny texts simon asking how the date went and he’s responding ‘not bad, might be in love’
talking stage doesn’t last long but everything else does.
it’s simply a doorway into a long and happy life.
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Off the Record | Stiles Stilinski
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Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader
Summary: High school in Beacon Hills, as told through the eyes of one inquisitive journalist who has a knack at getting on Stiles Stilinski's nerves.
Warnings: idk there's like a couple curse words lmao. also, spoilers? if you haven't finished teen wolf I guess??
Word count: 8,227
A/N: hi hi this is my first fic I'm posting on Tumblr (not to say that this is my first fic ever...anyway)! before you start, I just wanna say that there's a couple things that might be off from the show but please just ignore them. like I think it's bs Lydia brings Stiles back and not Scott in 6b so I righted that wrong. but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think of it! thanks for reading!!
--
All my life I’ve wondered why people didn’t question what happens in Beacon Hills.
It’s no secret that our town is unusual, but when odd things seemed to happen, people would just turn a blind eye and go about their business.
I, on the other hand, couldn’t let it go. I was inquisitive by nature, and my mom never knew how to answer my questions.
Why do we have so many animal attacks?
What happened to the people that disappeared in the Preserve?
Why did his eyes glow like that?
That last question almost caused my mom to get me a therapist – which probably would’ve helped me regardless – but she just continued to answer with her usual responses.
They just feel threatened by us, dear.
They’re in a better place now.
I’m sure it was nothing – you probably just saw some reflection in his eyes.
But no matter what she told me, I wasn’t satisfied. I knew there was something bigger going on, something my mom couldn’t explain, but I wasn’t sure what. As I got older, however, I realized that if I kept voicing my concerns, I’d be seen as the local crazy person – which, at the time, was the title reserved for my neighbor, Donna Romano, who always went to Town Hall meetings to complain about how some supernatural creatures were traumatizing her dogs every time she took them out at night to urinate.
Out of fear of sounding like Donna, I kept my suspicions to myself. I observed the strange actions of those around me and kept note of the bizarre events that happened in town. I found that it was something I was good at – observing. Always watching, but never voicing my opinions. Eventually, it got the best of me because I grew really quiet at school. But I didn’t mind. I liked being a wallflower.
One day in the fifth grade I saw my mom reading the Beacon Chronicle and I had an epiphany – journalists investigate weird, inexplicable events, so I should be a journalist. Reading the news became my favorite pastime, and by sixth grade I decided I would join the high school newspaper, The Daily Beacon, when I became a freshman. I figured maybe it would give me an outlet to investigate the odd occurrences in the town without looking like a lunatic.
But in sixth grade, I noticed that some of the odd things had stopped happening. There were less animal attacks and disappearances from the Preserve. Some people had even left town, including the last of the Hales, whose house had burned down that same year.
I didn’t give up hope though. I kept my head down and waited for things to get weird again. In the meantime, I wrote for enjoyment. In eighth grade I started shadowing a girl named Anna that was a part of the Daily Beacon, and I started writing articles – album reviews, movie reviews, school news.
Everything was going smoothly until my sophomore year of high school. Suddenly the weird things were happening, and I was sure that there was one person that was at the epicenter of it all – Scott McCall.
--
“...Angela, you’re covering the new faculty; Thomas, you’ve got the new Vegan Support Group club some juniors just created; and y/n, you’re covering lacrosse try-outs,” said Andrew, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Beacon.
I groaned slightly. “Andrew, couldn’t I write something a little bit more...my style? Like what about the one freshman class that boycotted their summer reading and is facing suspension?”
He gave me a slight look. “y/n, you know how important this lacrosse piece is. You know what that sport means to the school. You should be glad I’m giving you this opportunity,” he scolded. “Besides, Marlene is covering that class and is already interviewing their teacher.”
I nodded slowly and tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. I knew that Andrew meant well – he had been like an older brother to me ever since my freshman year – and he was right about the importance of lacrosse. I stayed quiet until he dismissed us, then mentally prepared myself to spend my afternoon watching some jocks exude machismo on a field.
When my last class was over, I walked over to the lacrosse field and found myself a spot on the top of the bleachers. It gave me an excellent vantage point – until a couple girls sat down right in front of me. The redhead I recognized to be Lydia Martin, the school’s resident popular girl. We’d been in class together all our lives, but I couldn’t remember a time she ever talked to me. I’m sure she didn’t even know I existed, just like the majority of the other people in our grade. The other girl, however, I didn’t recognize. I found out her name was Allison by overhearing their conversation. She was new and must have just moved to Beacon Hills.
The shrill sound of Coach’s whistle knocked me out of my thoughts. Tryouts started, and I watched as Scott McCall, a boy from my grade, was nearly knocked out by a lacrosse ball to the face. I winced but wrote down the event in the notebook I had out for documentation.
The next ball that went Scott’s way didn’t hit his face though. He managed to catch it in his goalie net. I couldn’t help but be a bit surprised – like Lydia, I’d known of Scott my whole life though he probably didn’t know me at all. But that meant I knew he was an asthmatic that wasn’t particularly skilled at sports.
“He’s actually pretty good,” I mumbled to myself as Scott continued to catch every ball that came his way.
I didn’t realize how loud I must’ve said it though because at my remark Allison turned around. “I was just thinking the same thing,” she said, obviously surprised. “Do you know him?”
I shook my head and quickly turned my attention to my notebook to write down the surprising turn of events. “Are you writing about this for the school newspaper?” I looked back up at Allison’s question. She was paying attention to me?
“Um, yeah, I am. I’d rather not write about sports, but here I am,” I joked lightly.
She let out a beautiful laugh at my statement. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’m Allison, and you are…?”
“y/n,” I answered. “Nice to meet you, Allison.” Suddenly the crowd roared, and I remembered why I was there. Allison, too, smiled and turned her attention back to the game. Lydia hadn’t said a word, but she was focused on watching Scott absolutely demolish Jackson Highmore, who, in my opinion, needed to be knocked down a few pegs anyway.
The more I watched Scott though, I got this weird feeling. He was good – too good. I tried to ignore my feelings and just focus on writing notes for the ridiculous lacrosse piece, which would include the headline: “Sophomore Scott McCall shines at lacrosse tryouts and becomes team co-captain.” But deep down I knew there was something up with him.
A few days later, I was sitting behind Stiles Stilinski, Scott’s best friend, in English class. Even though I’d had nearly all of my classes with him, we never talked. It originally was because I had a minor crush on him and was afraid I’d pass out if I spoke to him, but eventually it just morphed into me not speaking to many people and being convinced he didn’t know of my existence anyway.
But this one day, I was committed to speaking with him. I had to know what was going on, and if there was one person that knew anything about Scott’s new-found lacrosse talent, it was Stiles.
“Hey, Stiles,” I spoke up from behind him.
The brunette turned around, slightly confused but with that soft smile on his face. “Oh, hey, y/n. What’s up?”
I swear my heart stopped beating for a second. He knew my name? He knew who I was? I shook myself out of my thoughts before I went down the rabbit hole of the implications of him knowing me.
“Oh, nothing much. I’m just writing a piece about lacrosse tryouts for the school newspaper and I was just wondering if you had anything to say about it,” I explained.
He tilted his head slightly and shifted in his seat to more fully face me. “Um, yeah sure. I think it’s going to be a great season, especially since we’ve gotten some new leadership. My boy Scott’s co-captain now, so those Devenford Prep guys won’t know what hit them!”
“Speaking of Scott, when did he get so good at lacrosse? Would you say it’s natural talent?” I pressed a bit, hoping he’d say something that would give me a hint as to what was going on.
Stiles’ eyes squinted a little, and his head tilted slightly again. He seemed to be at a loss for words, which was unusual for the fast-talking, sarcastic boy, but he quickly recovered. “It’s definitely...natural...talent. He’s been working extra hard recently to hone his talent and skills so he could bring his A-game to this year’s tryouts.” When he finished speaking, he looked pleased with himself, and I could tell he had let out a small sigh of relief.
What are you hiding?
Though I didn’t know it yet, at that moment my rivalry with Stiles Stilinski began. He and Scott were hiding something, and I was going to find out what it was.
--
“You’re telling me that a girl is in a coma after the school winter formal and you don’t want me to write a story about it?”
Andrew leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. “It’s not that I don’t want you to write it. I just think it’s a tense time right now. The administration is receiving a lot of flack right now because of the winter formal fiasco, and Ms. Blanchard told me that we may want to avoid stirring the pot right now,” he explained. “That is not to say that we abandon our journalistic integrity and commitment to informing the student body, but we just may want to be sensitive to our environment right now.”
I trusted Ms. Blanchard, the faculty sponsor of the Daily Beacon, but not reporting on Lydia’s comatose state felt wrong. She was well-known at school, and students deserved to know the facts of her situation and how it had happened.Well, maybe I was lying to myself by saying that the real reason I wanted to pursue the story wasn’t the fact that something inexplicable had happened at the dance and I had to figure out what it was.
Andrew could sense my disappointment. “Look, maybe for now you can start collecting information and sources, and I’ll talk to Ms. Blanchard. Maybe she can advise us on how best to proceed.”
I threw my arms around Andrew in a quick hug. “Yes, thank you! I promise I’ll be sensitive when asking sources. I know how difficult this must be for the people close to her.”
“I know you will,” he said, chuckling lightly.
With a smile plastered on my face – perhaps a little inappropriately considering the topic I was excited to cover – I left the small newspaper office in search of my first source: Stiles Stilinski. He had been Lydia’s date to the dance, so surely he must know what happened to her, right? “No, I don’t know what happened,” Stiles angrily responded when I cornered him at his locker. “We were separated for a bit because she went looking for someone. When I went looking for her I–” he stopped suddenly, as if choosing his words carefully. He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he spoke.
“The next thing I know, she was at the hospital in a coma. They told me Jackson had found her out on the field when I went to check on her at the hospital,” he explained.
Something wasn’t adding up. “Ok, but where were you the rest of that time? You didn’t go looking for her when you didn’t see her for a while? What about when she had already been checked into the hospital?”
“What is this – an investigation?” Stiles shouted as he slammed his locker shut. I took a step back, eyes wide at the sudden display of aggression. Maybe I pushed too hard, I thought. Stiles rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I….I didn’t mean it like that. There’s just a lot going on, and my dad has been up my ass about those details too. To be honest, I can’t tell you where I was. The time just flew by and all of a sudden I’d realized I hadn’t seen Lydia for a couple hours. I wish I had been there for her, but there’s nothing I can do for her now other than check up on her.”
Running a hand over his buzzed head, he shot me a forced smile and said “good luck with your article” before walking away.
I was at a loss for words, trying to put the pieces together in my head. Surely he couldn’t have had a part in Lydia’s injury? There’s no way. But his defensiveness was off-putting–
“Hey, y/n!” I was snapped out of my thoughts by Allison approaching me from behind. “What were you talking to Stiles about?”
“Huh? Oh, um, I was just asking him about…” I remembered that the funeral for Allison’s aunt was happening and didn’t want to mention the additional stress of her best friend being comatose, so I opted for a white lie. “Biology homework. I wasn’t really paying attention in class today.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you two were friends,” she said as she leant against the lockers.
I shook my head violently. “We’re not.” I’d grown too close to Allison for her to not pick up on my feelings though.
“You say that now, but–”
“I have to get to class. See you at lunch, Ally!”
--
Other things that year were weird, but none warranted any further investigation via newspaper article. Sure, I was wondering about Erica Reyes’ sudden transformation into the ultimate baddie, the mysterious deaths of a mechanic and Isaac Lahey’s dad, numerous paralyzations at the Jungle, and a death of someone at a secret rave, but Andrew thought it would be best for the Chronicle and Ledger to cover those bigger events. In fact, the only other unnatural event that happened that I had to cover for the newspaper was Stiles’ unbelievable winning streak at the lacrosse championship. I would have quoted him after the game, but I really didn’t want to speak to him and anyway, he had disappeared for a bit right after the team won.
I could tell that things were happening, but it was all hidden from public view. I even noticed Allison’s behavior fluctuating. The arrival of her grandfather shook things up, and while he gave me a bad feeling, I couldn’t exactly figure out why. Lydia was more troubled than usual after coming back from the hospital even though she tried to act normally. Jackson was going through something and was more angry and aggressive than usual, but I wasn’t close enough to him to ask him if he was okay.
Over the summer, I spent a surprising amount of time with Lydia. Allison spent her summer in France, but she asked me to keep an eye on Lydia to make sure she was okay, especially since Jackson had moved to London during the summer break. I was surprised how much I enjoyed spending time with the redhead, and we hung out when I wasn’t working at my internship at The Beacon Chronicle, which my mom had convinced me to apply for after she noticed how irritated I was that I couldn’t pursue some of the stories I wanted.
By the time Allison came back before the start of school, it felt like Lydia and I had been best friends for the longest time.
“So, Allison, have you talked to Scott at all this summer?” I asked when I was sitting in the backseat of Lydia’s car, Allison in the passenger seat.
She shook her head. “No, I think I still need some time. He...hides things from me and I don’t know if I can trust him.”
I nodded my head, understanding the feeling. I still couldn’t place my finger on what had happened between them or what Scott was involved in. Though I comforted her when I found out they broke up, I didn’t really know why they’d done it.
“What about you, y/n? Have you talked to Stiles at all?” Allison asked, looking back at me in the backseat.
“Why the hell would I talk to Stiles?” I questioned, confused.
She and Lydia shared a small look that I couldn’t decipher before she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but you guys are more similar than you may think. I don’t know why you guys act like you don’t like each other though.”
The car rolled to a stop at the stop light, and all of a sudden I noticed a familiar baby blue jeep approach next to us. “Speak of the devil,” I mumbled. Lydia and Allison didn’t notice Stiles staring and waving at first, but when they did the car was filled with awkward tension.
The next events were a blur: Lydia running the red light, both cars stopping in the middle of the road, and a deer running straight towards us, nearing killing me in the gap between the front seats. We were shaken, and the boys ran towards us when they saw what happened.
“Are you okay?” Stiles asked Lydia, but he kept looking at me. I nodded slightly and he turned his full attention back to Lydia.
“What was wrong with it?” Allison asked as Scott got closer to the deer.
“It was scared,” he explained. “No, terrified.”
Things got progressively weirder after that. On the first day of school, I interviewed our new English teacher, Ms. Blake. She was nice enough, but it was unfortunate that her class was the one that a whole flock of birds decided to burst through the classroom windows. By the time the police arrived, I was already drafting up a story in my brain: Why are the animals acting weird in Beacon Hills?
I had overheard Stiles talking to Scott about the deer’s weird behavior and the number of deer-related incidents in California, so I swallowed my pride so that I could talk to him and maybe get some stats and information on the whole situation.
I walked up to him when he was sitting alone, texting on his phone. “Hey, Stiles.” “y/n? What’s wrong?” He had genuine concern written on his face.
“I overheard you and Scott talking about deer-related incidents earlier,” I noticed how he tensed up at my statement, “and I was wondering if you could help me with a piece I’m writing? It seems like you know all the stats, so maybe...you could write it with me?” It pained me to finish that sentence, but I figured it might be easier to figure out what was going on if he was helping – especially if he already had inside information.
I think for the first time in his life, the talkative boy was speechless. “I understand if you don’t want to or you’re busy–” I said quickly, trying to give him a way out.
“Yeah, sure.”
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t caught off guard by his response. “W-what?”
He smirked slightly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help you out with your article, y/n. Collaborate with you, if you will. We can work on it at my house tomorrow afternoon if you want.”
Nodding and agreeing with the plan, I left the chaotic English classroom.
The next afternoon, I felt like I was walking into the lion’s den. Going to Stiles’ house felt foreign, but what was even stranger was seeing him in casual clothes in a comfortable environment.
He answered the door wearing some sweats and a t-shirt, looking more comfortable and confident than I’d ever seen him. “Hey, y/n. Come on in,” he greeted.
I thanked him awkwardly, and we walked to his dining room table to get set up. “Sorry, I need to go grab my notes from my room. Be back in a sec,” Stiles said before leaving me alone in his dining room.
After a moment of silence, Sheriff Stilinski walked in wearing his uniform. “Oh, y/n! What are you doing here?” He had seen me a couple weeks ago in the police station when I was requesting documents for a story for the Chronicle. Though journalists and cops don’t often have a jovial relationship, he said that he liked me because of my commitment to the truth and respectful nature.
“Hey, Sheriff. I’m writing a piece about the animals acting weird, you know, with the deer accident and bird incident, and Stiles said he’d help me since he has a bunch of statistics on deer related car accidents.”
“Stiles is helping you? Well, I’ll be damned.” When he saw the confusion on my face, he rushed to explain himself. “No, not like that. It’s just, you’re all organized and focused, and Stiles is….Stiles.”
I was laughing heartily when the boy himself walked back into the room. “What’s going on, Daddy-o?”
“Nothing, son. Just catching up with y/n here. I’ve got to get to work, but you’re welcome anytime, y/n.” He said before patting Stiles on the shoulder and heading off to work.
Stiles looked over at me oddly when he placed his notes on the table and sat next to me. “Since when are you all buddy-buddy with my dad?”
Shrugging, I said, “Ever since we started grabbing beer every Thursday night while you’re at lacrosse practice.” His jaw dropped slightly, and I laughed again. “No, idiot. We’ve just interacted a lot because of my internship. Now, can we get started on the article?”
--
After the article was published, my next assignment was writing about the track meet a couple weeks later. I found out Allison and Lydia were riding together to the meet, so I tagged along.
Both girls were extremely tense the whole ride, seemingly concerned about something going on in the bus. We were only a few cars behind the bus full of track runners (and lacrosse players who were forced to attend the meet), but the stand-still traffic was a force to be reckoned with.
“Do you think we’re too close?” Allison asked.
“Honey, if you were any closer I think you’d mount the bus,” Lydia said sarcastically. She got a call from Stiles and looked over at Allison. “Hey, Stiles,” she dragged out the ‘hey,’ tension obvious in her voice.
She listened to what he was saying, something clearly wrong. “What do you mean he’s not–” she stopped when she remembered I was in the car, “healing?” She finished the question quietly, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear.
Healing? Is he injured?
“Yeah, ok, just find a way to get Coach to stop. We’ll meet you there.” She hung up and told Allison to pull off at the next stop.
When we got to the rest stop, I could see everyone hurrying to get off the bus. Allison parked the car, and we quickly went to the bathroom where I saw Scott nearly passed out on the floor. “Oh my god, is he okay?”
“Yeah, y/n. He’s fine. At least, he will be,” Stiles responded. He positioned his body in front of me a little bit as if he was trying to block my view of Scott.
I gently pushed him aside so I could see and was shocked to see black blood coming from the injured boy. “What the hell is going on? Why is his blood black?” I ran forward to get closer, kneeling next to Allison.
“It’s nothing. We just need to stitch him up and he’ll be fine.”
“Stiles, don’t fucking lie to me. I can see that he’s obviously not fine.”
“He’s right,” Allison said quietly. “We need to stitch him up. I need something to stitch him together with.” She looked around before remembering something in her bag.
I shook my head. “We need to tell Coach. Take him to a hospital or something.”
“No!” All three of them yelled at me.
It was quiet for a moment, all of us deciding where to go from here. “Just…” Stiles started, “please go and make sure the bus doesn’t leave without us. We’ll handle this.” I got up and slowly made my way to the door.
As I reached for the door, a hand grabbed my wrist. “y/n,” Stiles said, “it’ll make sense someday. Just trust us for now. Trust me,” he pleaded quietly out of earshot of the girls and Scott.
“I do,” I replied quietly, not meeting his eyes, before pulling my hand from his grasp and leaving the bathroom.
That night, we all had to stay at the Motel Glen Capri because of the postponed meet. I didn’t like its energy, and neither did Lydia. “A lot can happen in one night,” she said.
Though it was supposed to be two to a room, I convinced Coach to let me room with Allison and Lydia. Admittedly, Coach didn’t need much convincing because I was saving the school money by doing so. Once we got our room key, we went up to our room on the second floor.
“I’m going to go get a snack from the machine,” I told Lydia once Allison was in the shower.
She nodded. “Sounds good. I’m going to the lobby. There must be something we can do about these towels that reek of nicotine.”
Grabbing a couple one’s from my wallet, I made my way down the hall to the vending machine where I ran into Boyd and Stiles. As I approached, I could hear Stiles trying to talk to an unresponsive Boyd, who subsequently punched a hole through the glass of the machine, grab his snack that the machine refused to give him, and walk away.
“What the hell was that?” I asked Stiles as I walked up next to him.
He shrugged. “I don’t really know, to be honest.” He reached into the machine to grab his snack and tossed one to me as well.
When I got back to my room, a shaken Allison and Lydia were hurriedly talking about something. “Oh, y/n! You’re back. You won’t believe what just happened…” Allison started
She recounted the story of Scott’s bizarre behavior in the bathroom, and Lydia filled me in on the counter that they have at the front desk. “Can you imagine having a counter for the number of suicides that take place in your hotel? Crazy,” Lydia said. Taking her phone out, she sent a quick text to Stiles telling him that we all needed to talk.
We met him in the hallway a couple minutes later. “What was the text for?” Stiles asked when he saw our little gathering.
“There’s something going on with all the…” she looked over at me before continuing, “guys. You know, Scott, Boyd, Isaac, probably Ethan too.” I tried to connect the dots between all of them, but I didn’t really know what they all had in common. Scott and Isaac were both on the lacrosse team, but from what I could tell they didn’t have a particular fondness for each other or Ethan.
“I think someone’s going to die tonight,” Lydia said decisively.
“Why do you think that?” I asked, but it seemed like I was the only one questioning her line of reason.
She shook her head slowly. “I just...have a feeling.” After a moment of silence, she told us about hearing something from the room next to ours through the vent, so we decided to investigate it. Room 217 seemed empty and locked, but all of a sudden we heard the sound of a saw from behind the door.
Stiles busted the door open, and we opened it to find Ethan turning the saw on himself. “Ethan, stop!” I yelled as we ran into the room. Stiles started wrestling him for the saw, but luckily Lydia saw where it was plugged into the wall and unplugged it.
The next thing that happened was completely unexpected to me. Ethan grew fangs and claws, his eyes blazing red. What the fu–
Allison and Lydia rushed forward, wrestling his claws away from his torso where he had been planning on slashing himself. In the struggle he fell on the space heater, which apparently brought him out of whatever state he was in. He ran out of the room soon after. When we tried to question him about what he was doing, he couldn’t answer us. He had been out of control, and it made Allison realize we were forgetting someone.
“Where’s Scott?” She asked suddenly. When no one could answer, we all decided to split up – I’d go with Allison to look for Scott while Stiles and Lydia went to find Boyd and Isaac.
Scott wasn’t in his room. Allison and I ran all over the motel, looking in every crevice. At last, we decided to check the school bus, and that’s where we saw him. Standing drenched in gasoline, a flare lit up in his hand.
“Scott…” I approached quietly, careful to not make any sudden movements.
It was then that Stiles and Lydia joined us. I watched as Stiles walked into the gasoline, my breath catching in my throat as he nearly sacrificed himself. Scott was talking, but I didn’t really understand what it meant. He said that his life was better before the bite.
Stiles eventually talked Scott down, but the flare rolled into the gasoline. Luckily, Lydia was able to make sure we had all gotten out of the way. I’d ended up next to Stiles on the ground, and though we made eye contact, no words were spoken.
We spent the night in the bus because none of us could bear the thought of spending another second in that cursed place. Coach woke us up in the morning, definitely thinking the worst about what we may have gotten ourselves into, but whatever he was thinking wouldn’t possibly compare to reality. What was reality? I couldn’t have really told you at that point. I didn’t understand what we’d just lived through.
Before the other students started loading onto the bus, Stiles slid into the empty space next to me. “y/n, you know that all of this,” he made a grand gesture to Scott and the others as well as the motel, “is off the record. You can’t tell anyone about this. About what happened.” I held eye contact with him for a moment before nodding. “I wouldn’t tell anyone. To be honest, I don’t even really know what I would tell people, but I wouldn’t.” He nodded, a sad smile on his face as he looked down and fidgeted with his hands. “But Stiles,” I said as he looked back up at me. “Please help me understand it all. You can trust me, I promise, I just want to understand. I want to help.”
With a deep sigh, Stiles nodded once more. “Okay. I’ll tell you everything.”
--
When Stiles said he’d fill me in on everything, I didn’t realize he meant everything. I couldn’t believe how oblivious I had been to everything that had happened in the past year. Sure, I knew something weird was going on, but how was I supposed to know it was supernatural?
Finding out that my little corner of the world, little old Beacon Hills, California, had werewolves (and a kanima, pack of alphas, and whatever the hell a Darach was) was a lot to process. It was unbelievable, but Stiles helped me believe it.
I could tell that he didn’t fully trust me though. There was something in the way he looked at me that told me he was wondering when I would be done with my source acquisition and I’d write the next big exposé: Supernatural Beacon Hills: How Werewolves Have Been Hiding In Plain Sight. I didn’t know how to assure him that I was on their side and wouldn’t expose their secrets.
As the year progressed, things simultaneously made more sense and less sense. To defeat the Darach, we had to perform a sacrifice for the parents that had abducted, and Deaton – the veterinarian that had taken care of every family pet we’d ever had – told me I had to hold Stiles down during it. He said we had some sort of connection, but I guess that’s what mutual loathing does to people.
In the end, we won. We beat the Darach, the alpha of the alphas Deucalion left, and Scott became an alpha himself. But it was still just the beginning.
--
The sacrifice did something to Scott, Stiles, and Allison that we didn’t fully understand. Deaton said they left a door open, which only made it harder for Stiles to trust me because he could barely trust himself.
Knowing about the supernatural didn’t preclude my other responsibilities though. I still wrote for the Daily Beacon, much to Stiles’ displeasure, but I enjoyed it. So, on the first day of school I interviewed our newest faculty member – Mr. Yukimura. He and his family had just moved from New York, and his daughter Kira was in our grade. She was nice, but shy, so I invited her to have lunch with us.
Surprisingly, Kira jumped right into the conversation at lunch by mentioning bardo, the Buddhist concept of being in an in-between state.
After lunch, I caught up with Allison to walk to our next class. “Hey, Allison, could I ask you a favor?”
“Of course! What’s up?”
“Well, I don’t really know how to ask this but...I need help learning to defend myself, I guess? It’s just that I’m going to be helping you guys now, and I actually want to be helpful, so I want to protect myself so you guys don’t have to worry about me,” I admitted.
Allison smiled softly. “I’d love to help.” I returned her smile, suddenly giddy, yet nervous. “But, I think you should know that my...aim...has been off since the sacrifice.”
I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Nonsense, I’m sure that you’re still the best shot in this school.” She shook her head. “It’s never been this bad.”
Touching her arm lightly, I gave her a reassuring smile. “We’ll figure it out together.”
A few days later, I was surprised when I was paid a visit by both Scott and Stiles while I was sitting in the library. “To what do I owe this pleasure, boys?”
“We need your help.” I perked up at Scott’s statement. “We’re trying to solve the Tate case, you know, the one where Malia Tate disappeared all those years ago after that car accident, and we could use your help tracking her down.” He looked over at Stiles and nudged him with his elbow.
“And, you can write a piece about it. Not including all the details, if what we think happened is true, but you can still write something factual,” Stiles said, still displeased that I was writing for the newspaper.
To annoy Stiles, I acted like I was really thinking about it for a minute, but then laughed lightly. “Yeah, I’ll help you guys. Where do we start?”
--
Pull yourself together, y/n. You’re a journalist. You’re supposed to report on tragedy all the time. Be objective.
I took a deep breath and wrote the first line for what would be the cover story of the next Daily Beacon issue.
Junior Allison Argent, 17, died in an unfortunate carjacking incident last fall.
Before I could write any more, I got a phone call from Stiles.
Oh, thank god. “Stiles?”
“Do you want to come with us to Mexico?” He blurted out.
I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my chest. “What? Mexico? Why? When–”
“Tomorrow.”
“Stiles, are you insane? Even if I wanted to, there’s no way my parents would ever let me go.”
“We’re all telling our parents we’re going camping, if that helps at all,” he said with what seemed like a hint of disappointment in his voice.
I was quiet for a minute, but my mind was already made up. “Why? And who exactly is going?”
“Scott, Lydia, Kira, Malia, and I have to visit some hunters and see what they know about Derek being missing.”
As soon as he mentioned Malia, my mouth started curling into a frown. It’s not that I disliked the werecoyote, it’s just that she and Stiles had been pretty full on since they hooked up at Eichen and started dating. I wasn’t jealous – though I’m sure Lydia would argue otherwise since she’s convinced I like him or something – just...weirded out by their relationship.
I sighed. “I want to help, but I really can’t tomorrow. School starts back up in a couple days, and I need to finish this elegy for Allison and come up with a bunch of assignments for the staff writers…” I trailed off, thinking about all that I had to do before the coming week.
“Oh yeah, I forgot. Ms. Editor-in-chief over here has a life outside of us,” Stiles joked.
Andrew graduated at the end of last year and left his glittering empire to me, though suddenly I felt overwhelmed at the prospect of running a newspaper while being way too involved in the town’s supernatural endeavors. It didn’t bother me last semester, but after Allison…
“I’ll just see you guys when you get back, okay?” I told Stiles. He made an unintelligible noise of agreement. “And try not to let anyone get killed.” “Yes, mom,” Stiles said sarcastically. I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.
When the pack got back, I was surprised by the events that had taken place. “What do you mean it’s a young version of Derek?”
A few days later, I had to cover the spring lacrosse tryouts. Though I wanted to assign it to someone else, I had to do it myself because everyone was busy with the assignments I had given them.
To my surprise, a new freshman, Liam Dunbar, showed everyone up at tryouts – even Scott. I took note of how he seemed almost athletically superior to everyone, and I wondered if he was supernatural.
“He’s human, I’m sure of it,” Scott said as he came up next to where I was sitting on the bleachers, scaring me out of my mind in the process.
“Jeez, Scott. A little warning next time would be nice. But how do you know?”
He shrugged. “I can just tell. He’s just a really great athlete.”
“He’s going to be a great pain in my ass, I can tell,” Stiles said, sidling up next to Scott.
I took note of their reactions, writing down Scott’s comment – about being a great athlete, not human – to consider while writing my piece.
“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re writing a story about him,” Stiles groaned.
“You know I have to write one about the tryouts, and he just happens to be the star player of today,” I told him. “Sorry, Scott.”
Scott waved me off, but Stiles was still upset about the situation. “No, don’t give him the ego boost! He’s already a little shit, and an article about him would make it worse.”
Taking a break from my note-taking, I looked over at the brown-haired boy. “Stiles, have you even talked to him?”
He looked at a loss for words. “N-not really...but I can see his arrogance from a mile away!”
I rolled my eyes. “Well then, if you’d excuse me, I’m going to write up a fantastic story about a talented up-and-coming lacrosse player.”
The article became the next issue’s front page, but I almost wished I hadn’t given him as much attention when Scott turned him into his beta.
The rest of the year didn’t go as planned either, but isn’t junior year supposed to be everyone’s worst year?
As much as I liked helping out with the supernatural problems Scott and the rest of the pack were having, it was hard knowing about what was going on and not being able to write about it, especially when all of the mysterious killings started up. We eventually found out about the deadpool, but I could write about a kill list of Beacon Hills’ resident supernaturals, could I?
At the end of the year, I finally had to make the trip to Mexico with the rest of the pack. “Stiles, I’m going. You can’t stop me!” I attempted to open the passenger door of the jeep when he reached out and shut it from behind me.
“No, it’s going to be dangerous. We don’t even really know what we’re facing,” he tried reasoning with me. “I can protect myself,” I said, thinking of the training that Allison had given me. “Besides, I can’t just sit by and wait for you guys to come back. I need to try helping Scott.”
Realizing that I wasn’t going to back down, Stiles removed his hand from the side of the door and opened it for me. I nodded a quick thanks as I hopped into the vehicle.
I wasn’t expecting to fight Scott that day, but we all did in order to return him from his Berserker form. At the end of the fight, I had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing I couldn’t deal with.
As Derek drove away with Braedan, I could feel that things were changing. “I can’t write about any of this, can I?” I asked somewhat jokingly.
“Off the record,” Stiles replied from where he stood next to me.
--
“Stiles, what’s wrong?”
“Oh thank god, you remember me!” He said as he grabbed my hands. He’d been running down the hall frantically when I saw him.
I looked at him with concern on my face. “Yeah, of course I remember you? Why wouldn’t I–”
“y/n, it’s the Hunt. The Ghost Riders. I saw them, and now they’re coming for me.” He was breathing heavily, eyes sweeping the surroundings for signs of the Ghost Riders. His eyes locked on something to his left, but when I looked, I couldn’t see anything. “They’re here. We have to go,” he said, pulling me towards the parking lot. We got into his jeep, but he didn’t start the car. “Stiles, what are you doing?”
“It’s too late.” I could see the look of grief on his face. “No, don’t say that. It’s not–”
“It’s the truth,” he cut me off, turning to look at me. “Promise me you won’t forget.”
I shook my head. “I won’t. But Stiles, I can’t do this without you,” I could feel a tear escaping my eye and slipping down my cheek, my emotions getting the better of me.
Stiles reached forward and wiped the tear away before placing his hand on my cheek. “What do you mean? You’re one of the smartest, most inquisitive people I know. If I had to trust anyone to find a way to stop the Ghost Riders, it would be you.”
I couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “Yeah right. Lydia will probably figure it out before me.”
He shook his head. “You can do it. I trust you.” I could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he turned to look at something through the window over his shoulder. “Can I tell you something? Off the record.”
I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my mouth. “Yes, of course. What is it?”
He took a deep breath. “I don’t hate you. I know it may seem like I’ve never trusted you or that I don’t care about you, but it’s actually the opposite. I...really really like you,” he admitted.
I was stunned. Stiles likes me? He was searching my face for any indication of feelings as I sat there silently.
“Oh, shit,” Stiles mumbled. “Ok, forget I said that. Well, you won’t need to forget when you forget me in a minute–”
I cut off his rambling by placing my lips on his. They were warm and familiar, as if they were made for mine. “I like you too,” I mumbled when I disconnected, my eyes still closed from the interaction.
But when I opened them, I was alone in the baby blue jeep.
--
All semester, I’d felt that something was missing, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Or who it was.
But after months of searching for it, we finally figured it out. Lydia had gone into a banshee trance to discover the word “Stiles,” and it brought back vague memories for me when I heard it. The feeling of soft flannel. A sarcastic laugh. Red string around my finger. A hefty wooden baseball bat.
The collection of memories made sense when we all finally got our memories back and remembered the person we were missing from our lives.
We traced the trail of clues to the sewers, where Scott tried to bring back Stiles because of their brotherly love for one another. I thought it would work, but the portal closed and Stiles hadn’t appeared. Come on, Stiles. Where are you?
We had to fight the Ghost Riders off, making sure they didn’t turn our beloved Beacon Hills into another ghost town. I’d run into the high school, looking for something to use as a weapon when I ran into someone in the hall. A tall, brown-haired figure wearing a flannel shirt. “Stiles?”
He turned, and smiles emerged on both of our faces. I broke into a run again, right into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re here. You’re really here.” I mumbled, the sound muffled against his shirt.
“I knew you could do it,” he said.
I pulled back slightly and looked up at his face, suddenly nervous. “That night in the jeep...did you hear what I told you before you disappeared?”
A soft smile rested on his face. “Of course I did. It was the one thing that kept me going, especially when I was stuck with Peter.”
“Peter Hale? Why the hell were you with Peter Hale?”
Stiles shook his head. “We can go over that later. For now, there’s one thing I’ve been wanting to do.” I was a little confused, but I understood once he leaned in and connected our lips.
This is what I’d been missing, and I was never going to let it go again.
--
I watched from afar as Stiles gave his trusty baseball bat to Mason, who didn’t seem to appreciate the hunk of wood.
“Have you told him yet?” Lydia asked as she appeared next to me.
I shook my head. “We haven’t really had time to talk about that stuff. I think he doesn’t really want to think about it just yet and what that might mean for us.”
She nudged me with her elbow, silently telling me to go over there and talk to him. Rolling my eyes, I walked towards the familiar blue jeep and familiar mess of brown hair.
Liam and Mason had already walked away, and Scott and Stiles were standing and talking at the jeep’s trunk. “Hey, y/n. I’m just heading out, but I’ll see you guys later,” Scott said as I came up and Stiles threw his arm around me.
We waved as Scott left, and Stiles pulled me closer. “Hey,” he said, looking down at me with an affectionate expression.
I pulled him over so we could sit in the open trunk. “We need to talk.” I could see the panic flare up in his eyes.
“Oh, um, okay? Is everything okay?”
Chuckling lightly, I nodded. “Yeah, we just haven’t talked about college at all,” I explained.
His head dropped. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want it to ruin what we have here, and I don’t even know what life will be like outside of Beacon Hills, and I feel like we just got together and now–”
“Stiles,” I cut him off. “I’m going to GW too.”
His eyes widened at my confession. “You...you’re going to GW?”
I nodded, a small smile on my lips. “I committed a while ago. I’m going to study journalism there.”
I watched as a smile spread across his face. Then, it was replaced by a quick smirk. “Oh great, you’re following me there, huh? I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”
I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m going to need someone to give me the inside scoop on the FBI’s antics.”
He looked pensive for a moment. “I think what you’re describing is illegal.”
“Not if it’s in the public’s interest. But maybe it just needs to be off the record,” I admitted. Stiles laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely going to be off the record.”
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quirklessidiot · 4 years ago
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title : cigarettes and parfaits [2] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, josei, mild angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au
Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?
Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT) Notes: tbh idk how marriage works in japan, all i know is that once you have both your signatures in the marriage registration certificate with one witness then you guys r married skdjssks anyways onto the story- also might i add this is happy story?? i promise yall, all youll see is cute stuff in this story bcos fuck angst (ok maybe lil angst since you know plot development) but i stand by that nanami kento deserves that trip to malaysia under the sun with his lover! before i forget to add, the age dynamics is that y/n is around 25 and nanami is 38. no power play and all that, just two healthy consenting adults! sorry for the early delete had some minor corrections :( 
Izakaya-informal japanese bar
Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next]  [updates; every friday yay!]
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*13 hours earlier; a night before at some random Izakaya in Tokyo*
You sat in front of your phone and three bottles of saki, despite your friends advising you countless of times to lay off drinking too much, all sense and warnings are thrown off the window tonight.
You’re clearly far from sobriety as you recall the video chat with your otosan not looking too good and bright, “Why don’t you move back home? It’s not like the teaching job at tokyo is all that great! You’re alone there and your obachan and I don’t like that a lot…” your father’s words haunt you again and again.
Just what was wrong with living alone? And excuse your otosan but you definitely had a very good job at Tokyo High (It was a prestigious academy that paid well, best job out there that you still didn’t know how you landed). You mumbled a few curses underneath your breath, Oh, how much you love that oaf of a father and worrywart of a grandmother but could they lay off the idea of settling down? You were a responsible and good child who never had stepped a toe out of line. Wasn’t that enough already? You immediately downed the drink and let the saki burn your throat down.
“Oh ho, slow down there.” You hear someone say, “You’re all alone and it seems like you have no one to help you back home.”
It seemed like the men on the opposite side of the bar had noticed you.
“I can take myself home, thank you very much.” You mumbled, loud enough for them to hear. Unlike older men who liked to prey on you for your innocent stature. The men who sat across you in the Izakaya didn’t really exude that sort of energy (what can you say, you had a knack of experiencing that, unfortunately).
“Are you sure? We can ask the owner to call a cab for you. She’s a woman and she’s a friend of ours.” the other one in robes pipes in, wait, was that a Buddhist monk?
“No, I’m good. It’s just…” You paused before letting out a long sigh, “A bad time so I need to stick around for a bit.”
The white-haired stranger tilts his head just a bit, “Seems like you and a friend of mine are both going through some rough patches.” he replied, pointing towards his blonde company who you didn’t notice until now.
You wordlessly shifted your gaze towards the office worker next to the Buddhist monk, you hadn’t noticed the blonde man until now. It seemed like he was going through a rough time too since the pair was loud and boisterous enough to conceal his silent presence.
You notice how out of place he looks with his crisp and clean suit, hard gaze, and silence. It made you wonder what sort of man hangs out with two contrasting personalities, “You’re wondering if he’s our friend or our boss, aren’t ya?” the white-haired man asks.
You immediately turn red in embarrassment, were you that easy to read? You try to stutter out an apology but the monk waves it off, “It’s alright, we get it all the time. Contrary to popular belief, Kento is two years younger than us and is our junior from high school.” He smiles.
“Ah,” you nodded mutely, “Sorry. It definitely wouldn’t make sense to see a boss and his subordinates at an Izakaya.”
“Oh, Kento-chan doesn’t usually go out drinking but he couldn’t resist. After all, he’s a father with two very emotional teenage boys.” The white-haired man teased in a sing-song voice. It seemed like the three were close, with the way they were carelessly lounging around the stoic and kind-of scary man.
“I’m starting to wonder if he gets that teasing attitude from you.” The blonde man, seemingly out of his trance, called out his friend. Contrasting to his aloof features, he didn’t mask the annoyance in his tone.
“Oh, uh, do you need help?” you quietly asked, tilting your head to the side in wonder. The blonde man’s head snapped to your direction and quirked a brow.
“And you are?” he seemed to be calculating and observing you from head to toe. It suddenly made you a bit self-conscious because this older gentleman had no business being this good looking and scary at the same time.
“Oh, I’m Y/N by the way. I’m actually a high school teacher.” You introduced yourself sheepishly, “I’m always surrounded by angsty teenagers.”
His gaze narrowed just a bit, it seemed like he’ll be giving you the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was a bit desperate since he was getting advice from a drunk stranger in an Izakaya out of all places, “So what seems to be the problem, Ojisan?”
He’s still quite hesitant so it’s his white haired friend who speaks out for him, “You see, Kento-chan here just moved last week because of a promotion from Kyoto.” he grins, telling the story for his friend, “His kids aren’t very keen with the moving, well one of them is outright showing it and the other one is well keeping it in since he’s just the sweeter one.”
The white-haired stranger keeps babbling on about how his friend had regretted taking the work promotion because it feels like he shouldn’t have done that. You peerlessly observe the older man’s reaction while his friend talks about his problems to you. He remains stoic.
It didn’t look like it but it seemed like this man had such a soft spot for his kids.
How nice, his wife must be proud of him.
“... and before I forget to add, Kento-chan is very much single.”
You almost choke on your saliva, this friend of his sure knew how to run his mouth. It suddenly dawns upon you why this man had been very worried, he was a single parent who only wanted what was best for his boys but he didn’t even know how he should proceed now.
“Um, ojisan?” You quietly call out, “I think you’re doing great.”
Silence lingered in the air for a bit, you cringed at your rather awkward and forward approach, “Excuse me?” the older blonde man asked, clearly dismayed by your response.
“It’s just…” you ears turn red, not from the alcohol but from embarrassment, “You wouldn’t have moved in the first place if the pay wasn’t better than your old job, right? Plus you’re alone and raising two kids. It definitely isn’t easy to provide for everything alone but I can see that you did some careful reevaluation on the whole thing. Obviously you can’t avoid the fact that they feel bad but you can sit them down and talk to them about how the whole thing was beneficial not just for you but for them too.”
You spoke way too quickly that you wondered if the man could understand you.
The blonde man holds his breath for a moment, “I know…” he mumbles, “I just don’t really know how to talk to them.”
“Well, maybe you could take them out?” You advised, “Spend a whole day with them for a while and just move around with them. Help them get acquainted around their new school or something!”
You watch him silently look at his glass and think it over. Man, if this guy wasn’t older, your obaasan would outright agree and tell you to go out with him since she was never fond of how men weren’t as calm or laid back as he was.
“That sounds plausible. Thank you, Y/N-san.” his voice turned a bit softer and you feel your stomach turn just a little queasy by his tone. God, was the alcohol this bad?
“Well, would ya look at that.” the white-haired man grins, placing his drink up as if he was signaling everyone to cheers with him, “I told you drinking at an Izakaya would solve all your problems. For that, we should drink here again next week!”
The man glared at him yet again, “No. I should be heading home now. I can’t be anymore away from S-”
“Ah, ah. You promised that you’d stay until 2 am.” The white-haired man hushed, “Or I’ll be pestering you for a whole month.”
You could definitely tell that a vein popped on his forehead and his blood pressure was shooting up. Man, you were really starting to doubt that white-haired man was older than everyone in this room. He sure had the mental age of an elementary student.
“You also said I could leave after five drinks.”
“That’s only your second.”
“Satoru…” the Buddhist monk dangerously hovers over his white-haired friend. Wow, middle-age men sure were amusing, “You don’t even drink that well and he has to drive home…”
“Tit for tat, I’ll hire one of my personnel to drive you home after five drinks and I’ll leave you alone for a wee-”
“Please just leave me alone for my whole life.” the blonde man deadpanned.
Unlike you, he wasn't such a bad drinker. Four bottles for him and one more drink for you later, you're both kind of woozy and you had gotten on even friendlier terms with the three men who you now know as Geto-ojisan, Gojo-ojisan, and finally, Nanami-ojisan. Nanami was well into his late thirties while Geto and Gojo were in their forties.
If you were sober, you wouldn’t be making friends with older men. With stories of how easily young people are taken advantage of in the big city, you’d swerve away from them. Luckily, it seemed like they were a good trio and not once did they invite you to sit on their table so you had some good distance between you four and so far, they hadn’t tried anything funny or uncomfortable.
Geto is currently a lawyer, Gojo’s apparently some swanky businessman of god knows what        you heard jewelry or something      and Nanami was an accountant. A job that he described was ‘dead-end’ and ‘fucking boring’.
“...What happened to your wife, Nanami-ojisan?” you ask, the alcohol slowly shedding your shyness away.
“I told ya, Y/N-chan. He never was married. The way he got the kids was just complicated!” Gojo Satoru frowns, splaying his long limbs in the air, for a man so enthusiastic with drinking, he sure got drunk pretty quickly.
“Really? Didn’t you have a hard time? Wow…” you whistled, “I have such high…” you raised your hand as high as you could, “...respects for like, single parents!”
“See? See? But he can’t get a partner because of that Y/N-chan.” Gojo pouts, “...We’ve been setting him up on dates and such but he keeps bailing on them!”
“I have kids.” Nanami deadpans, narrowing his eyes.
“What my friends are trying to say, Kento has a number of opportunities to bring a partner into his life but he likes to use the boys and his work as an excuse.” Geto surmised, it seemed like the lawyer was also starting to feel the effects of the alcohol since he had become more talkative.
“He’s good-looking, right Y/N-chan? If he probably didn’t act like some fossil from the Triassic period, he wouldn’t have a problem sometimes about the boys having a mother figure!” Gojo rants, making Nanami flick his forehead.
“Idiot, must you tell this stranger all my problems?” Nanami harshly interjected.
“Well, you do know that to actually get a partner, you must get out there, right ojisan?” you try to calm him down, you didn’t want a bar fight to erupt.
“I know.” he rolls his eyes, “But the kids-”
“I know.” You try to smile, “You aren’t very interested in bringing just anyone in your life, right? The boys need a permanent figure and you think dating around is going to help.”
“Holy shit, Y/N-chan.” Gojo exclaims, “I thought you were a teacher? How come you know all this shit?”
“It’s basic, Gojo-san.” you smile, ready to take another swig of your saki, “You should take into consideration that Nanami-san isn’t just anyone who’d settle for less. He needs stability since he’s technically a parent.”
“That makes you a perfect pair, don’t you think?” Geto nonchalantly replies, “I mean, you need a stable man in your life who has all of it figured out and wouldn’t hold you back at all while Kento here needs a person who could not only be a good parent but also be as understanding.”
“That’s…” you chuckle, he technically was right, “That’s definitely odd how all our problems will be solved if we both just went out together.”
“... looks young enough to be my child.” Nanami rejoined, “why would Y/N-san like-”
“I mean, you’re good looking.” you shrug, rather shamelessly, “I wouldn’t mind going out with you. Heck, I wouldn’t mind if I married you.”
Gojo spits out the saki he was drinking all over the table and that makes you cringe in disgust, “As long as he doesn’t get invited to the wedding. I’d marry you. If you’d like we could even get married right here, right now.” you proudly proclaim.
The blonde man is thrown off by your statement yet he’s too drunk to even sip in the seriousness of your words, “Well as much as I agree on not inviting Gojo to my wedding, I don’t know-” he tries to explain.
“You know what, isn’t Geto-san a lawyer? He could have it notarized and all that right now then we could get married. I’ll be a great mom and help you out then you could help me get my family off my back. You scratch my back, I scratch yours!”
Geto is definitely in shock, how odd was it that he even had a marriage registration certificate in his briefcase back in the car too?
You both could just sign it and Satoru could sign it as your witness and he could have it officially notarized since he had his seal back there too.
Solved.
“So, Nanami-san, what do you say? Wanna marry me?”
Oh god, were you shameless.
Who in the right mind would marry a stranger, one who was thirteen years older and a father?
One thing was for sure, your friends were right. You definitely needed to stay away from alcohol.
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lucemferto · 4 years ago
Text
WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT PH1LZA (or Why Philza is a Victim of Narrative Circumstance)
Heyo! Per request I am posting the script to my video of the same name here on tumblr. I must warn you that just reading the script will probably not give you the full experience, so I would encourage you to watch the video (linked above).
There might also still be a lot of grammatical errors in the text, because I don’t proofread.
Intro
LAST TIME ON LUCEM FERTO
Okay, so! I don’t want this to turn into a reaction channel OR a Dream SMP channel for that matter! [echo]
Well, I lied.
[Intro to “Luc is pretentious about the funny blockmen. Episode 2”]
I swear, I’m working on other stuff. It’s just that my dumb lizard brain has only capacity for one interest at a time!
So, something you might not know about me, is that I am on tumblr – who am I kidding, most of you will know me from tumblr. Before starting this whole YouTube thing, I thought that website died years ago – but as per usual reality proves me wrong. I’m also on Twitter and Reddit, but I get the most engagement on tumblr – by far! – and I need those sweet, sweet numbers for the serotonin!
Anyways, one of my favourite past-times on tumblr is to razz Philza Hardcore Minecraft – that’s his full name – for being a frankly awful father [clicking away] – wait, wait, no! Philza fans, this isn’t a hit piece on him, I promise! Please come back!
This is video is meant to be a companion piece to my previous video about Technoblade and the Doomsday event – you can tell by the shared nomenclature – so you should probably watch that one before you proceed. Unless you don’t want to, which is also perfectly understandable.
DISCLAIMER: This video is mostly about the character Philza plays on the Dream SMP. Whenever I talk about the content creator Philza, I will say so properly. Also, Spoiler Warning for Dream SMP Season 2.
… What is that? You’re wondering what the Dream SMP is? Well, if you had just watched the other video like I told you to do, you would know, because I explained it pretty well there. But in case you don’t know, here’s the cliff notes.
Dream SMP is the hottest New Media Series on Twitch right now! It has it all: gaslighting, child soldiers, Machiavellian political intrigue, Hamilton roleplay, desecration of the dead, shounen protagonists, SO! MUCH! AMNESIA! Filicide, furries, a red egg that’s definitely homophobic and teenagers inventing nuclear warfare. And it’s all done in Minecraft – yes, the funny block game where the only way to emote is to crouch.
And you say the perfect brief doesn’t exist!
Now, you might be wondering, why do I want to talk about this? Well, it’s because Content Creator Philza is one of least controversial internet personalities that I can think of. That man exudes pure comfort. So, it’s just very, very amusing to me that his character became one of the most controversial figures on the SMP, only outshone by Tommy and Technoblade.
And it’s not just amusing, it’s also extremely interesting! I want to dig deep to uncover and discuss the dynamics behind why that is. How did it come to this point? How did a man who appears genuinely so pleasant create a character that inspires so much discourse!
Now, if you watched that Technoblade video – like I told you to twice now! – you might know, that I am the resident character analyses hater of fandom! And that impression is false and slanderous! Don’t tell other people that I hate character analyses! I love them!
It’s just that, in the Dream SMP in particular, there is an abundance of character analyses! Every streamer has at least two very good essays written about them, exploring every possible angle to view their characters and backgrounds and everything. All I’m saying is: I don’t have anything to add on that front.
So, instead I want to pursue a different approach – something, that I feel is a bit underrepresented in the fandom! And I’m not just talking narrative analysis – that’s right, this episode we’re going even more pretentious! – I’m talking Transtextual Analysis!
Now, what is Transtextuality? Well, unfortunately it has very little to do with actual Trans people – #transrights, just in case that wasn’t obvious – but instead describes a mode of analysis with which to put – to quote French literary theorist Gérard Genette – “the text in a relationship, whether obvious or concealed, with other texts”.
Basically, you know how the L’Manburg War of Independence heavily quotes and borrows from the hit musical Hamilton? That’s transtextuality! A lot of the analyses surrounding how Tommy mirrors the Greek hero Theseus, who was invoked by Technoblade multiple times in the series, are already doing transtextual analysis! So, it’s really not something that’s new to the Dream SMP fandom.
But how does this apply to Philza and how he is looked at and judged by his parental skills? Well, there are multiple forms of transtextuality, two of which we will discuss today.
But before we continue, I gotta do that annoying YouTuber thing. I know these videos don’t look like much, but I spend a really long time making them. I work fulltime and I try my best to keep up, but sometimes I can’t. So please, like, subscribe, comment to give me some algorithm juice – I really need it – and most importantly share it! Share it with your friends, share it with your family – I’m sure Grandma is very interested in what I have to say about Philza Minecraft.
And I’m trying to be better! If I sound at all different for this video, it’s because I finally bought a new pop filter, so I can hit my plosives without it sounding like there’s a thunderstorm in my room. I hope it makes a difference; it was a very cheap pop filter, so maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it sounds worse – that would be bad!
What was I talking about? Oh yeah, CHILD NEGLEGT!
 Intertextuality: Why is Dadza?
You know what’s really interesting about the Dream SMP – aside from, you know, most things about it? Very few of the characters have concrete, fleshed-out backstories – and that’s pretty weird! In no other medium or genre could you get away with something like that – at least for long-form storytelling!
So, how does Dream SMP get away with this? Well, it’s because every character on the Dream SMP is basically a self-insert – and I don’t mean that in the “This character is based on me”-kinda way, but in the “This character, for all intents and purposes, is me!”-way. This, like many things that are fascinating about the Dream SMP, is owed to the fact that this series didn’t start off as a continuous drama – it started off as a Let’s Play.
And while we can talk about how someone’s on-camera/on-mic persona is in some ways a character, it’s still miles off of being an actual, fully-realized, separate character in a storyline.
This is where Intertextuality comes in.
Intertextuality is a subset of Transtextuality. It describes how the hypertext, which is the text, you’re currently engaged with, uses another text, the hypotext, to supplement itself. The interconnection the hypertext establishes with the hypotext, through stuff like allusion for example, uh-hum [Hamilton], can colour how an audience interprets the hypertext. Basically, Hamilton and Theseus are the hypotexts; the Dream SMP is the hypertext.
So, what does this have to do with backstory? Simple: The backstories of the characters in the Dream SMP consist basically of nothing but intertextual references. Through intertextuality their content effectively substitutes their character’s backstory.
You can see it everywhere. Wilbur’s and Schlatt’s relationship and rivalry is hugely enriched, if you are aware of their shared history like SMPLive, for example – I think anyway. I haven’t watched SMPLive, because … there’s only so many hours in the day and I cannot keep up with the Dream SMP and catch up on SMPLive and live a healthy life – which I already don’t do, so…
BadBoyHalo’s and Skeppy’s relationship, which has become the crux of the Crimson-Storyline of Seasons 2 and 3, is hugely supplemented if you know that they’re also very close as streamers and in real life.
Another great example of intertextuality is basically Technoblade’s entire deal. If you just look at him completely within the text of the Dream SMP and try to transplant his entrance to any other medium: It would be extremely weird! Like, he’s just this guy that comes in in the middle of a very climatic arc, no build-up, no explanation what his deal is, and he’s treated like he has always been there. In any other medium that just wouldn’t work – at least not without a flashback or some sort of exposition!
But because of stuff like Minecraft Mondays, the Potato Wars, his Duel against Dream and SMPEarth, we understand that he is a Big Deal!
Anyways, to bring all of this back to Philza Minecraft: What kind of hypotext informs how the audience sees his character? Well, this is where I will have to talk about SBI.
SBI is an acronym that stand for State Bank of India, the 43rd largest bank in the world and…
It also stands for Sleepy Bois Incorporated. Sleepy Bois Incorporated is a loose assembly of content creators, consisting of Philza, Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit and Technoblade. It is most well-known for its very endearing family dynamic – a dynamic that is frequently acknowledged and played up by the creators involved. Tommy is the youngest brother, Wilbur and Techno are the two older brothers and Philza is of course the dad. And when I say, it’s played up, I really mean it! Wilbur seems to be especially enamoured with the idea and leaves no opportunity untaken to bring it up – which we will come back to.
And I’m not saying that they’re faking this and this is somehow an act. While I know none of these people personally, it appears to me, that this is genuinely how they interact – if a little exaggerated for the streaming experience. Even when they’re not consciously playing into the family dynamic, their interactions still very much lend themselves to that interpretation by the viewers.
Philza especially just radiates Dad-Friend energy – so much so that it has become a huge part of his brand identity – yay, I can bring that back (check out my Christmas video if you want to hear me ramble about that). The nickname Dadza stuck even before SBI was a thing.
So, even if we completely disregard SBI – which we shouldn’t for reasons I’ll get back to – Philza has cultivated an image of strong paternal guidance. He is, in my opinion completely deservedly, regarded very positively. He is highly respected and in turn seen as a voice of reason.
All of this would eventually inform the hypotext of the character Philza within Dream SMP.
 Interlude: Before Dadza & November 16th
Okay, so now we have established that a) Dream SMP heavily hinges on intertextual readings by the audience to supplement character backstory and b) that Philza’s entire deal is that he’s the dad-friend – more specifically that he’s the dad of SBI (not the bank). I think you know where this is going.
So, yeah, ever since it was on the table that Philza could join the Dream SMP, it was immediately assumed that he would take on the paternal guardian role all these traumatized people on that server so desperately needed – and with good reason! Like I said before, the audience at this point was trained to take intertextual interpretations as basically canon or at the very least canon-adjacent.
I want to emphasize that this is most likely not done deliberately. I’m sure content creators Wilbur and Philza didn’t sit there and said: “Yes! We will rely entirely on the audience’s inclination to interpret our characters intertextually to define character Philza!”. Like, obviously that did not happen.
But it’s also important to remember that unlike with traditional media and the fanbases cultivated there, the separation between the Dream SMP and its audience is almost non-existent – and purposely so. The story events are streamed live, Chats are acknowledged in canon and even outside of livestreams creators are extremely involved with the fandom. So, the weight of fan-expectations is equally amplified and will more likely be incorporated into the writing process. Case in point:
[Wilbur “I miss Philza”/Philza about Wilbur]
During Wilbur’s villain arc, even before his official involvement, Philza became a prevalent point of discussion. The hope that he would be the one to snap Wilbur out of his downward spiral was not only wish-fulfilment on behalf of the fans; it also very much played off of the intertextual reading of the SBI-dynamic in relation to the Dream SMP.
Of course, this still doesn’t make Philza and Wilbur canonically blood-related – but it definitely used the “paternal”-dynamic of SBI to build-up tension and drama.
And that ultimately brings us to November 16th. The Grand Finale of Season 1 and Philza’s first canonical appearance on the SMP.
Now, for this I want to pull back from the transtextual analysis and talk about simply narrative analysis: What is Philza’s narrative purpose on November 16th?
Philza serves as the last threshold on Wilbur’s Villain’s Journey – to appropriate Vogler’s version of the monomyth for a minute here – he is what Vogler calls the “Threshold Guardian”. He is the last enemy the Hero faces before completing his quest – in this particular case Wilbur’s quest is to blow up L’Manberg. Multiple people have at this point tried to dissuade him from this course of action: Tommy, Quackity, Niki and others. So how come this Philza moment is not redundant in terms of dynamics compared to these prior scenes?
Well, it’s through our intertextual understanding of Wilbur’s and Phil’s relationship. Because Philza does not just occupy the role of the Threshold Guardian – he is also implicitly the Mentor. Before Phil there was no character in the storyline that held a higher position of moral authority than Wilbur – Dream and Schlatt, while at points more powerful in terms of actual authority, were never positioned by the narrative as Wilbur’s superiors in the same way as Wilbur was to Tommy, Tubbo or even Niki.
Before November 16th all challenges Wilbur faced were from people narratively subordinated to him. But that trend is broken with Phil. That is why he is the Threshold Guardian, why this confrontation is at the climax of Wilbur’s arc. Because Phil is the last thing tethering Wilbur to whatever morality he held before his villain arc; Phil is the last, moral obstacle Wilbur has to discard before gaining his reward.
And, just a quick sidenote, because I’ve seen it around the fandom a bunch: When I’m referring to Wilbur denouncing his morality, I’m using that in terms of narrative analysis. I’m mentioning it, because Wilbur’s character can very easily be read as mentally ill or neurodivergent and some people have – rightly! – pointed out that the excessive vilifying when talking about his character is … problematic, to say the least.
So, I just want to make clear, this isn’t a character analysis, I’m being purposely broad when talking about Wilbur and Phil.
In the end, Wilbur takes that final step and gets his “reward”: As his final request his mentor takes his life and vanquishes the evil – the dragon of Wilbur’s story slays the dragon of L’Manburg. It’s very Shakespearean in its tragedy – but beyond the larger theatrics it’s not really used to further characterize Phil – at least in the context of Season 1. There’s not a lot of focus on his characters internal conflict during November 16th.
Phil, like Techno, is very utilitarian in how content creator Wilbur writes him: He serves as a moment of hype; an obstacle Wilbur has to face; a participant in the tragic climax of Wilbur’s character and ultimately takes on his implicit and expected role of mentor and guiding figure to the rest of L’Manburg.
I think not a lot of people talk about how Philza does not join Technoblade during November 16th. He takes the side of L’Manburg – he fights against the withers and he joins Tommy, Tubbo and the others at the L’Mantree, thus framing him as loyal to the L’Manburg administration – even though Season 2 would make his loyalty to Techno central to his character. But more on that later.
What’s also important about November 16th is that this is the day when the general intertextual interpretation became canonized text.
[You’re my son!]
Wilbur is made Phil’s canonical, biological son. The intertextual interpretation of SBI as it pertains to these two characters on the SMP was completely reinforced by the narrative. Or to put it in Fandom terms: The headcanon became actual canon. At least when it came to Wilbur … but what about Philza’s “other” children?
Well, that leads to our second form of transtextual analysis:
 Paratextuality: Is Dadza?
These titles are just getting better and better.
The Paratext is defined as all those things in a published work that accompany the text. It comes in two forms: One of them is the Peritext, which are non-diegetic elements directly surrounding the text – like chapter titles, author’s notes, and stuff like that. Translated to the medium of the Dream SMP, it would be stuff like this:
[Examples]
And, trust me, I could make a whole separate video about how people on the SMP use their peritext as a tool for storytelling – I’m looking at you, Ranboo – but that’s not what we will talk about in the context of Dadza.
Instead, we will focus on the second form of Paratext, the Epitext, which consists of all authorial and editorial discussions taking place outside of the text. That’s stuff like interviews, private letters or J. K. Rowling’s Twitter Account – you know, before she decided to become a full-time asshole.
[Wilbur: Transrights]
After Season 1 ended, Wilbur indulged pretty heavily in providing epitext for the Dream SMP, something he had not done prior to November 16th. His paratextual additions ranged from the playful, like assigning DnD alignments to various SMP members, to the extremely impactful, like the whole three lives system!
You probably think, you know where this is going. Wilbur provided some epitext about how Tommy and Techno either are or are not biologically related to him … and I have to be honest I thought that too. But then I began looking into the impenetrable web that is the SBI-canon on the Dream SMP and found this!
[Ghostbur explains family]
So, it wasn’t paratext, it was just straight text. Said in character, in canon, without any implication that we the viewers should question this. The text of the SBI family dynamic was explicitly linked to Dream SMP-exclusive lore, namely Fundy being Wilbur’s and Sally the Salmon’s son. This is as clear as Philza’s anguished declaration on November 16th in establishing the intertext as text. And because Wilbur also had a very heavy hand in the discussion of paratext around that time, it gave his character’s words even more “canonical” weight. Metatextually speaking, this very much read like the author giving exposition through his character – exposition that we should understand as reliable.
And, by the way, before I continue, I need to give a huge, huge shoutout to kateis-cakeis on tumblr, I hope I pronounced that right, who was just so quick in providing me with these crucial clips. Without him I would have looked for days because these people don’t archive their shit! And the Dream SMP Wiki was NO help, by the way! I love what you guys do, but stuff like this belongs in the Trivia section on characters’ pages!
Anyways, basically during the entirety of early Season 2 the SBI family dynamic was basically canon to the SMP. Sometimes it was only alluded implicitly, again letting the intertext fill out the rest.
[Philza clips]
But just as often it was just explicitly talked about – both in the text and in the paratext.
[Fundy clip/Wilbur “Twins” clip/Tommy clip]
So, I know what you’re thinking: “Why is this part called paratext, if the entire family tree is just textual”. Well, that last clip might give you a hint, as to what I will talk about. Notice how Tommy, one of the people most directly impacted by the canonization of SBI lore, is both unaware of and seems generally unenthused about it, to put it nicely? Well, that would soon turn out to be a much bigger deal than anyone could have imagined as he wasn’t the only one.
[Technoblade decanonizes SBI]
Yeah …
This happened on 20th of December. Regular viewers of this channel will remember that I put out a 90-second joke video, where I complain about this very development. And while I was mostly kidding around, the core idea is still true. The paratext provided by Technoblade and established text were in direct contradiction with one another – and that brought a lot of confusion into the fandom. Confusion, that would soon be followed by frustration.
Because Techno only decanonized himself as part of the SBI family dynamic – but what about Tommy and Tubbo, the latter of which was incorporated into the dynamic exclusively within the lore of the Dream SMP. Was this still canon or wasn’t it?
What followed was a muddled mess of contradictions, intertextual implications, text and paratext in conflict with each another. It was for the most part inscrutable to figure out how Tommy and Philza related to one another. I’ll spare you every comment made about this – mostly because I want to spare myself from looking for all of them.
In the end, the current status is that their familial relationship is … unclear. Philza said, again in paratext, that it’s ultimately up to the writers to decide, whether or not Tommy is his son … which, I personally think he and Tommy should be the ones to establish that, but I’ll come back to that later.
But why is all of this important anyway? Why would this ambiguity create such an uproar, such controversy – especially when it comes to Tommy’s character? What makes Tommy’s and Philza’s relationship such a target for discussion in the fandom?
Well … this is where we will have to talk about the storyline of Season 2.
Interlude II: Tommy’s Exile and Dadza in Season 2
Okay, Season 2. This is where the spoilers are, so I will just sneakily drop this again. It took me five seconds to google this gif and I will milk it for every penny it’s worth!
At the beginning of Season 2, Philza’s narrative role has not changed much from where Season 1 ended. He is in L’Manburg dispensing earthly wisdom, being a paternal figure to Fundy, Ghostbur and Tubbo, helping with the nation’s rebuilding efforts; just generally occupying the role of the mentor.
[clips]
And then came … the Exile. The Exile Arc took place between December 3rd and December 15th during Season 2 of the Dream SMP. It revolves around TommyInnit getting exiled from L’Manburg and slowly getting psychologically tortured and broken down by Dream. It’s a really great arc, at least in my opinion, that explores and deepens a lot of Tommy’s character relationships, whether that be Tommy and Dream, Tommy and Tubbo or Tommy and Ranboo. One relationship, however, is noticeably missing.
So, yeah, Philza spends basically the entirety of the exile doing pretty much nothing of consequence. And that’s not a problem specific to him – One big criticism I would levy against the Exile Arc is that a lot of characters are left spinning their wheels. Which is why we get zany stuff like El Rapids, Drywaters, Eret’s Knights of the Roundtable, Boomerville – anyone remember Boomerville, that was a thing for 5 seconds, wasn’t it? – basically a lot of storylines are started and then unceremoniously dropped. Now, I will talk more about this, when I make a video about Season 2 of the Dream SMP … in ten years, look forward to it.
In the case of Philza, this inaction was especially damning, because at this point it was still a considered canon that he was Tommy’s dad. So, the fans were left with a situation, where just a few weeks prior Philza was occupying a paternal role for Fundy and Ghostbur … but now, that his youngest son was in a very concerning predicament – to put it lightly – he was nowhere to be found.
So why is that?
Well, the most obvious answer is that Dream and Tommy didn’t write him into the storyline. We’ve seen that Tommy wasn’t particularly interested in exploring a familial relationship to Philza, at least at the time. And it would just not fit in with what Dream and Tommy tried to do with the Exile Arc: they wanted to tell the story of Tommy being isolated, completely under Dream’s mercy, slowly worn down and manipulated. If Philza had been constant presence for Tommy during that time, it would have definitely shifted the narrative focus. That doesn’t mean that they couldn’t have done that, it’s just a matter of fact that they didn’t.
This also reveals another truth about content creator Philza’s character work, that I think is extremely crucial: He takes what the writers give him. Outside of a few choice moments, he doesn’t seem particularly interested in expanding or even solidifying his character on the SMP.
What I’m saying is that he is very go-with-the-flow: Wilbur wants to enact a Shakespearean tragedy? Philza’s up for it. Fundy wants him as a parental figure and mentor? Philza’s here for him. Tommy, conversely, doesn’t want him as a paternal presence, even though it would make sense for Philza’s character, as it was established so far, to be there? Philza will oblige.
The reason I’m mentioning this is because, while Tommy and Dream were unwilling to utilise Philza in their storyline, someone else was more than happy to. Which leads us back, like it always does, to everyone’s favourite Porky Pig-kinnie in a crown: Technoblade.
Technoblade and Philza, from everything I’ve seen of them, seem to be very good friends – and they share a lot of history even outside SBI. So, it’s commendable that they would collaborate on a storyline together.
A consequence of that, however, is that Philza’s narrative purpose shifts completely with very little transition. His entire character changes from being the Mentor-figure of L’Manberg to being pretty much exclusively defined as Technoblade’s ally; his man on the inside. It is a very sharp turn from the end of Season 1. Their relationship is once again informed via intertext – this time the Antarctic Empire on SMPEarth serves as the hypotext – but there isn’t a huge effort made to smoothly integrate that aspect of Philza’s character into the larger narrative framing around him.
How much the narrative utilisation of Philza has shifted can be very easily observed through the Butcher Army event on December 16th, a story event that I like less and less the more I think about. Here Philza is used to show just how corrupt and violent Tubbo’s administration has becomes. He is no longer the respected mentor, he is now the stand-in for the oppressed populace, similar to Niki’s role in Season 1. On a narrative level, he is here to prove a point.
If you’ve seen my Technoblade video, you know how I feel about … just that entire storyline, so I will not reiterate too much on it. I just want to make clear that I’m not principally against this development – if they wanted to truly explore Tubbo going down a dark path and getting corrupted by power, so much so that he would even treat the person who effectively raised him like a prisoner, I would be extremely here for it, I cannot stress that enough.
The problem I have is that it’s just so sloppily done. It is not coherent with how these characters behaved and, more importantly, how they were narratively framed prior to the Butcher Army event. Fundy gets one token line about Phil being his Grandfather – a far cry from the very emotionally complex relationship they had established at the beginning of Season 2 – and Phil then callously disowns him.
The major problem simply is that we don’t see how Philza changes from Mentor-figure to embittered, oppressed citizen. And there was enough time to build to that. During the entirety of Tommy’s exile Tubbo was pretty much spinning his wheels and Quackity and Fundy were opening up plot cul-de-sacs that didn’t end up going anywhere. This is time they could have spent on developing their relationship to Philza and the dark path they were going down – but again, Season 2 video.
There is not much to say on Philza’s narrative purpose and framing beyond the Butcher Army event. He remains pretty much exclusively Techno’s consigliere with his role as Mentor to L’Manburg a distant memory. He has some cute character moments with Ranboo, because content creator Philza is just big dad-energy whether he wants to or not, and whenever he and Ghostbur share a scene suddenly the narrative remembers that there are people other than Technoblade that should exist in Philza’s inner world. But aside from that, Philza’s storyline in Season 2 remains … pretty definitive is the nicest way I can put it.
Most importantly his relationship with Tommy continues to be completely unexplored – whether by chance or choice – and that combined with ever vaguer paratext leaves “Dadza” in a very peculiar situation.
 Conclusion: Is Dadza a Good Dadza?
So, the question to end all questions. The big, obnoxious text, that I will probably have put in the thumbnail – I haven’t made it yet, but I know myself. The honest answer is: I couldn’t tell you.
I have, in the past, been expounding the virtues of narrative analysis. That is because I feel that Narrative Analysis and Textual Analysis, like in this video, can provide certain tools that Character Analysis lacks. Often times I see people trying to get at a writing problem or query and getting frustrated because they’re not using the toolset, they need to figure out what they want to figure out.
But I’d be a hypocrite if I pretended like everything could be solved through the modes of analysis I prefer. And I think the Dadza-issue is exactly such a case.
I set out to explore why the Philza-Tommy-“Dadza”-relationship has become so controversial. It’s a combination of expectations build up through intertextual readings, that were partly canonized – something that is very common for the Dream SMP – conflicting pieces of paratext, which only serve to muddle the issue further and a text that is not only completely uninterested in actually exploring Tommy’s and Philza’s relationship – as it stands right now they might as well be strangers, narratively speaking – but also completely changes Philza’s narrative purpose as it relates to characters like Fundy or Tubbo about half-way through with little to no transition.
That is why I say, that Philza’s character is a victim of narrative circumstance. Because unwittingly, through all of these factors and decisions, there is not coherent reading of Philza that frames his parental skills in a particularly kind light.
The question of how we can judge Phil as a paternal figure ultimately falls within the purview of the character analysis – and that’s a very multifaceted issue, highly dependent on which POV you focus on and how you interpret the other characters in that POV’s periphery.
To put my cards on the table, I think that Philza is a very flawed father/father-figure – and I find that absolutely okay. Flaws are the spice of character building. He is not Cinderella’s Evil Stepmother – but he’s also definitely not Mufasa. If we were to read Philza as a paternal figure, then he would have made a lot of mistakes and decisions to the detriment of his “children” – least of all everything that happened on Doomsday.
But I also have sympathies for Philza fans who are tired of the Dad-Debate and would like to have his character judged independent from his relationship to Ghostbur, Fundy, Tubbo and Tommy.
Ultimately, to bring it all to a point, I’d like to end with saying, that I think that Philza, out of all the characters on the SMP, has the potential to be on of the most intriguing, multifaceted ones. There are all of these different patches of story, character moments and narrative and transtextual implications, that, if brought together, could create a beautiful tapestry of the character Philza.
You have his relationship with Techno, which holds the potential for so much emotional conflict and vulnerabilities, you have his time as mentor of L’Manburg, which is just criminally underused; the complex relationship between him and Ghostbur/Wilbur; and – for me, personally – most intriguingly this weird, almost uncomfortably distant non-relationship with Tommy. That last one is intriguing to me, because it contrasts just so much with our intertextual understanding of the characters and streaming personas – and it just holds the potential for so much conflict, so much drama, so much angst. Which I live for!
And, yes, I do believe that most of this is narrative happenstance, that this was largely not intended by Philza or really any of the writers. It’s just what happens when hybrid-roleplay-improv a long-running, livestreamed storyline in Minecraft.
But I want them to realize the potential they have on their hands, because it could – with barely any adjustments – turn Philza from a victim of narrative circumstance to a champion of it!
 Outro
Thank you so much for watching this video. Usually, I don’t record outros this standard, but after this beast of a video I felt it necessary. I hope that whether you’re a Philza fan or a Philza critical or just completely uninvolved in the whole thing, there is at least a little entertainment you could get from this.
I want to take this opportunity to say that my next few videos will probably not be Dream SMP related – a sentence which undoubtedly lost me a bunch of subs – simply because I don’t want to burn out on it. I genuinely enjoy watching the SMP and being exhausted by it would be something I wouldn’t want to force on myself.
But who knows what will happen? The Karl Jacobs video was something I did spur of the moment because the idea just came to me – so I can’t guarantee that the next video won’t be a three-minute joke about Purpled or whatever.
Anyway, my concrete plans for future Dream SMP videos are essays on Season 1 and Season 2 as well as one for Tales from the SMP.
Before that I have a longer video in the works, which I’ve already teased a bunch, so I hope it will finally be finished sometime. And I also may be working on something … eboys-related? Maybe. I’m not making any promises!
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phoenixtakaramono · 3 years ago
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Hi! :) I was reading your post about SQH in TUT and it got me thinking. Since this version also wrote SVSSS, when he transmigrates does he realize his "dream" was real? Also, you hinted that he recognizes SY as the same person who transmigrated into SQQ, so now I'm wondering if he tells SY that, and how SY would react to learning he's the protagonist of SVSSS in another universe. I just love thinking about how meta this could potentially get, haha.
Can't wait to find out more! Keep up the good work!
(Follow-Up Post to: Part I, Part II)
@the-legend-of-chel 👏👏👏 Luv, good to see you in my Asks! I’m glad to hear that you’re looking forward to finding out more in The Untold Tale! And thanks for your support and encouragement. 💖
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(TUT ch1 - Excerpt)
You’re right. There is a lot of meta potential with older!Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky being the MXTX equivalent in this AU—or, rather, I like to imagine him growing up to be the Stephen King equivalent of modern day China with a prolific portfolio of written works (novels and short stories, and extras). In canon, he churned out a great number of words per chapter and in a speedy amount of time! Do you guys know how miraculous that is, as a writer? I envy him so much! To be able to churn out that much content in a short amount of time, and in a scheduled regimen, is amazing! That’s basically my angle having written this into the prologue of TUT. That’s partially the reason why I wrote ch1. I liked the idea of paying homage to SVSSS and saying that it’s an actual book series in TUT universe that Airplane wrote (as funny as the idea would be, I wasn’t about to let SY be the one to write it, lol, for intellectual property reasons since the PIDW characters belong to Airplane, which would necessitate SY changing names and character appearances if he published what we know as irl SVSSS, so the best I can give SY is saying he wrote his own PIDW fanfic which basically launched his novelist career because he’d realized, hey, I actually have a knack for writing and the ever so spiteful I feel like practically every writer has had this thought before: fine, if I don’t see what I want to read, then I’ll write it myself!)
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(TUT ch1 - Excerpt)
We’re approaching TUT spoiler territory so skip below if you don’t wish to be spoiled.
TUT (Meta) Spoilers
I personally love meta. If I’m to be writing a lovestory to SVSSS, there will be attempts at meta thrown into TUT. And this is one of them:
Airplane did “dream” about canon SVSSS. He basically “dreamt” about his favorite black powder fan, Peerless Cucumber
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changing events of Airplane’s biggest regret Proud Immortal Demon Way. (As a writer, it embarrasses me to read my old writing. So I imagine it could be the same for Airplane.) As an author, Airplane recognized what he dreamt had potential to be a commercial success as a danmei transmigration story so basically every time he woke up, he would write pieces of what he remembers in a dream journal when the memory was fresh in his brain. It also allowed Airplane the opportunity to show his readers through the perspective of SY! Shen Qingqiu what Airplane had originally wanted to write, but integrated in a way that blends seamlessly into the reading experience. He would’ve thought it was a bit weird and strange that his brain dreamt about his past critic—whom he’d considered a small celebrity in the PIDW forums back then—aka his anti-fan-turned-accomplished-novelist in the writing industry, so he felt embarrassed that his unconscious brain must have thought very highly of the man.
So Airplane omitted any mention of Peerless Cucumber from the final draft of SVSSS (if he mentioned both “Shen Yuan” and “Peerless Cucumber,” then even SY would be like, Hey, wait one moment....). This detail will be included in a later chapter, but did you know the name “Shen Yuan” has come up in other works? Let’s ignore the variations on the Chinese written characters for the name “Shen Yuan.” There was the evil older brother character Shen Yuan from The Rebirth of the Malicious Empress of Military Lineage, a side character named Shen Yuan from a C-drama (I think he was an old minister?), and there’s even an irl visual artist named Shen Yuan. Shen Yuan (Shen Garden) is also a famous romantic garden in Shaoxing, known for the love story between Lu You and Tang Wan.
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(Shen Yuan Garden - Trip Advisor Review)
Basically “Shen Yuan” in itself is not a particularly uncommon name in China (imo I would not say it’s super popular either). So when SY saw his name mentioned once or twice in Airplane’s SVSSS—aka rebooted PIDW—during his read-through, he was like, Huh, what a strange coincidence. And then dismissed it as circumstantial and thought nothing of seeing his name come up in a cutsleeve novel as the new protagonist, haha. It’s like a book written by Anne Rice; one of the titles coincidentally has the same name as mine. Now, obviously the book and main character is not based or inspired by me; I just coincidentally share the same name. If I see books which have characters with my same first name, generally I like to read them and sometimes even collect them for my bookshelves. Because there’s something just so fun and interesting about seeing your own name in a fictional piece of work.
There’s also meta joke potential about Airplane dreaming of himself being transmigrated into the cannon fodder Shang Qinghua and seeing the romantic miscommunications between the younger version of himself (his self-insert essentially) and the fictional Mobei jūn character. I can certainly say seeing such dreams would make Airplane question his sexuality and awaken something dormant in him, haha. He’d realize he might not be not as straight as he thought he was, if his brain was capable of dreaming of SY!SQQ being crushed on by LBH, and SQH being crushed on by MBJ and essentially following MBJ around calling him “my king” this and “my king” that. He’ll be sweating bullets when he meets this world’s version of MBJ, because Airplane will definitely remember how the younger Self-Insert version of himself acted toward MBJ in the SVSSS world. (It’s the classic “Just because I dreamed about it happening doesn’t mean it’ll happen here, right? ...Right? Cucumber brother, you’re a fortuneteller! Please check our eight characters for me! I have to know my marriage compatibility with Mobei jūn!”)
In a later chapter, there will be the reveal where Airplane tells Shen Yuan that he “dreamt” of a universe where a younger version of Shen Yuan—having choked on mantou (馒头) (paying homage to the donghua) or just being transmigrated in general after raging at a younger ASTTS’s writing (paying homage to the books)—transmigrated into the Shen Qingqiu we know from SVSSS who married Bing mèi. Because I think it will be hilarious when TUT’s SY finds out about the true source of Airplane’s inspiration, and he’ll naturally freak out over the fact that this is the very same Bing gē from Airplane’s Bing-gē vs Bing-mèi extra and that he’s essentially somehow stumbled on the same path as the alternative younger SY!SQQ “from Airplane’s imagination.” I will leave this open to interpretation if this does show up (it’s just an idea I’m playing with) but I might hint that there might be a higher power at play which allowed Airplane a peek into another universe—which manifested as his dreams.
I very much like this dynamic (we might see this exchange, verbatim, in a future chapter in TUT):
SY/ LBH —> He gave him a disdainful gaze.
Airplane cried inwardly at the oppression and the feeling of being wronged.
Haha, none of this is really Airplane’s fault^ though. It’s a fun parallel and if I’m still motivated when we get to the wedding and consummation chapter, we might see an epilogue where SY and Bing gē from TUT meets SY!SQQ and Bing mèi maybe. Because I think it’ll be funny with the two LBHs getting into a shouting/ fighting match about who has the “superior Shen Yuan” while the two SYs just shake their heads at their silly husbands (and potentially TUT’s SY, as the older party, can impart his fortunetelling wisdom and advice to SY!SQQ).
Personally I can’t wait when we get to those chapters, because I know it’ll be entertaining to write, haha. Personally TUT is a fun project because there’s just so much meta potential that can be incorporated and I have a lot of fun imagining the scenarios.
*Note: like always, keep in mind that these are just my current thoughts. Details are subject to change; things aren’t considered official until they show up in the final draft on AO3. :)
The Novelists’ First Impressions
The first impression SY and Airplane will have of each other will be fun. Because in their perspective, written in my notes it’s essentially like:
(Airplane seeing SY):
His first reaction was shock. Shock because the mere mortal he used to be could not conceive so much charisma being emitted by this guy.
This is definitely a man who had put all of his stats into CHARISMA.
(SY seeing Airplane):
He's suspiciously good looking in ways that normal people are not.
Ah, the Cucumberplane friendship in TUT is going to be so much fun. Not only are these two older souls who transmigrated (both are mid-aged in this universe), they’re both accomplished novelists in their own right in the writing industry. Which means with these two being celestial beings, there’s so many clichés we can playfully poke fun at.
It also makes me laugh because imagine being SY, and seeing a guy (mortal!Airplane) who exudes the same energy as these two imperial princes GIFs:
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plaidbooks · 4 years ago
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Dating Pains
A/N: So! I was looking through some old files and found this Sonny Carisi x reader story I wrote in September that I had completely forgotten about! After reading through it, I figured “this is actually pretty good, I can post that” so here’s part one of four(?).
Tags: mentions of rape, mentions of murder, attempted drugging
Words: 3026
Taglist: @the-baby-bookworm @beccabarba @thatesqcrush @itsjustmyfantasyroom @stardust-fray @permanentlydizzy @infiniteoddball @ben-c-group-therapy @glowingmess @whimsicallymad @reading--mermaid @averyhotchner @mrsrafaelbarba @detective-giggles
You puckered your lips, painting them with the bright red lipstick that you loved. You smacked your lips a couple times, smiling at your own reflection. You were in comfortable jeans that hugged your ass perfectly, and a loose shirt, the sleeves draped around your upper arms rather than your shoulders, bright red and orange flowers on the black material. Your makeup was simple, neutral, except for the lipstick—but you couldn’t help yourself, you loved the color.
It was a first date, and you didn’t want to over-do it by over-dressing. Besides, it was a first date with this guy, and you were running out of cute, clean clothes. But it was your third “first date” in two weeks; your friends had set up a Tinder account for you and had been forcing you to go out on these dates. At first, you were reluctant, unwilling to stoop so low as to use an app to find love. But, after about a month of trying it the “old fashioned way,”—you at bars and clubs, striking out over and over again—you gave in to their insistence. Though, most of the guys on Tinder only wanted hookups, and you wanted something, well, more. You were looking for love, as cliché as that was, and that was something your friends loved to tease you about.
“You can wait around and find love whenever, but why pass up a chance to get laid?” one of your friends asked. You had blushed and tried to fumble through an excuse about why you didn’t want a hookup, why you wanted a real relationship. It wasn’t like you were necessarily against having a one-night stand, but it just wasn’t what you were looking for.
It took weeks and a lot of weeding through shitty profiles and messages until you found at least someone that seemed interesting. Your first date was alright; he seemed nice, polite but there just wasn’t a connection there. You both agreed that there shouldn’t be a second date. The second man was a real estate agent. He was once divorced, from his high school sweetheart, lived on Staten Island, had finished paying off his college debt, and was debating going back for a BS in Computer Science since that’s where the real money was. You knew all about his family life, too, because never once did he stop talking about himself. When he asked for a second date, you politely declined. Then again, and again, until you finally had to block him. If you didn’t already have this third “first date” set up, you would’ve given up on Tinder entirely.
Looking yourself over once more, you headed out the door and towards the bar that you were meeting the man at, nervous butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You had made sure you took screenshots of the man’s profile and messages, sent a picture of his profile picture to your friends, and told them where you were going. You were positive that serial killers didn’t use Tinder, but it was always better to be safe.
You made it to the bar and scanned the faces in the cramped space. Your date, Jerry, had said that he would be wearing a navy-blue polo shirt and black slacks, not that the dim lighting in the bar would help you tell the difference between the two colors. Your eyes did a full scan, not seeing anyone that looked familiar; maybe he was running late? Sure enough, you felt your phone vibrate, a message from Jerry saying that he was running behind and would be there in 5 minutes. Shrugging to yourself, you made your way to the bar, ordering a sprite and finding an open table. Being late wasn’t a deal-breaker for you, and at least he had messaged you.
You let your eyes wander through the crowd, people watching, and, if you were being honest with yourself, looking for anyone that looked attractive and hopefully alone…just in case this Jerry-guy didn’t work out. There were a couple of cute guys in the bar, but all of them seemed to be with someone, whether friends or with a girlfriend. Your eyes did settle on one man, though; he was tall, even when sitting, his hair carefully slicked back. In the dim bar lighting, it was impossible to tell if his hair was grey, blonde, or a light brown. He was in a blue, button-up shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a black striped tie, and a suit jacket was on the back of his chair. He had a beer in his hand, his long fingers wrapped around the dark bottle, with his head thrown back in laughter at something that one of the two women he was with said. One of the women was older, with long brown hair, who exuded command, even though she was also chuckling. The other woman was younger, closer to your age, with blonde hair that was tied back, beer in her hand and obviously the one cracking the jokes.
You looked away as you saw someone approaching your table out of the corner of your eye, smiling as you saw that it was Jerry—at least he matched his profile picture. You stood, giving him a polite hug, before you both sat. A waitress came up and took Jerry’s order, in which he also insisted you got a drink, too, to help loosen you both up. Not wanting to appear rude, you agreed; one drink wouldn’t make you drunk.
It took you about 5 minutes to realize that Jerry was the same, if not worse, than your last date was. He was incredibly full of himself, talking about how women just “didn’t get him” and how he was only on Tinder because he was “too busy” to actually go out and meet people. You were about to excuse yourself to the bathroom, planning to have a friend come save you, when he got up himself to go. While he was gone, you seriously contemplated leaving, but you couldn’t—you weren’t that mean. But you did instantly forget about texting a friend for help. Instead, your eyes travelled back over to the cute man with the slicked-back hair. You were shocked when you saw his bright blue eyes watching you. He quickly turned away, as did you, your cheeks flushing hot. You were too afraid to look back over, your face still feeling warm…warmer than a normal blush. You were looking hard at the table in front of you when you noticed that it was moving. Confused, you put your hand out to rest on it; it definitely wasn’t moving, but now the room looked like it was moving, shifting, and you felt like your skin was on fire now.
You stood suddenly, and almost went right back down. There was no way you were drunk, so what the hell was happening? You took a couple of stuttering steps before you felt hands on you, an arm wrapping around your waist, a hand on your shoulder, helping you up.
“You okay, honey?” Jerry asked, his fake, honey-covered voice concerned.
Your mouth moved, but you couldn’t form words. It was becoming hard to keep your eyes open, and you felt sweat forming on your forehead. You vaguely noticed him guiding you towards the door, out of the bar. Suddenly, a shadow was looming over you. You looked up, squinting at the figure above you. All you saw was slicked-back hair, and bright blue eyes, full of concern and a quiet rage.
“Sorry, man. My girlfriend just had a few too many,” Jerry was saying, trying to laugh it off. Something clicked in your sluggish brain. This is wrong, you thought, but your body wasn’t reacting to your mind. Without knowing what you were doing, you reached towards the tall, lanky man in front of you, who was now speaking harshly to Jerry. But you couldn’t understand the words. Your mind was fading fast, darkness coming to meet you.
You gathered all the strength you had left, and whispered into the loud, over-packed bar, “help me,” before the darkness overtook you.
 **********************
You woke up in a soft bed, sheets pulled up to your chest, the soft whirring of machinery around you. You squinted against the harsh light as you opened your eyes, the fluorescent lights blinding you slightly. You groaned and pushed yourself up, your head pounding and your throat dry. You froze; you were obviously in the hospital, but you had no memory of getting there, or why you were there in the first place. You took mental stock of your body; besides a splitting headache, you felt fine. So why were you there?
“Oh, you’re awake! How are you feeling?” a soft voice asked. You looked over and saw a nurse coming into your room, clipboard in hand. She didn’t wait for you to answer as she started playing with the machinery you were hooked up to.
“I-I’m alright,” you rasped, throat completely dry. She wordlessly poured you a glass of water on your side table and handed it to you. You gratefully took a sip, wetting your throat. “Head hurts, though.”
The nurse nodded as she took the glass back. “That’s normal.”
You cocked an eyebrow in confusion. “Normal for what? Why am I here?”
The nurse seemed surprised for a moment before she realized. “Oh, of course you don’t remember. You were drugged last night; roofied.” Your heart sunk. You were roofied? How? You never left your drink unattended; how did someone sneak it in? And does that mean…? The nurse had continued talking, but you tuned out, mind and heart racing. She concluded with a little cup of pills for you to take, and now your heart really sunk. You knew that doctors gave women the morning after pill, as well as anti-STD pills after being assaulted. So, that must have happened to you, too, right? And you remembered none of it. Was it better that way?
“Are you alright, Ms. [Y/L/N]?” the nurse asked, looking at how you regarded the cup of pills. “It’s just eletriptan…for your headache?”
“Just—just headache pills?” you asked. The nurse smiled, nodding.
“Yes, just headache pills.” As she was heading out the door, she added, “oh! There were two SVU detectives here to see you. Can I let them in?”
Confused as to why two detectives wanted to talk to you, you nodded absentmindedly, taking the pills and downing them with a gulp of water. You had only a moment to think about it—SVU? Were you a Special Victim, even if you weren’t assaulted?—before they entered. The first detective that came in looked vaguely familiar; a young woman with her blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. The second detective, though, made you pause. You had definitely seen him before, but you couldn’t place him. Tall, lanky, slicked-back, dirty blonde hair, and bright blue eyes that pierced into yours with some sort of…guilt? Pity? It was hard to tell what was there.
“Have we met before?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. The expression in the man’s face intensified for the briefest moment before it was replaced with a cool professionalism.
“Uh, kinda,” the woman replied. “I’m Detective Rollins, and this is Detective Carisi. We met at the bar last night.” You thought about this, trying to will your still-aching mind to remember the events from the past night, but there was nothing there.
“Do you happen to remember anything from last night?” Carisi asked. “I mean, if you remember meeting us, maybe you remember more?”
You tried to go back through what you did remember from yesterday; getting lunch with friends, getting dressed for a date, putting on your favorite lipstick, then…nothing. Flashes of music and lights from the bar, but nothing more.
“I…don’t really remember much…. Do—do you know what happened to me? I—I remember leaving my house to meet a date, but then it’s all fuzzy—” you scrunched your eyes closed, trying to force your mind to work correctly.
“Hey, don’t hurt yourself. It’s normal to not remember after being roofied,” Rollins explained. “It may come back to you in the next couple days, and it may not. Do you remember who you were going on a date with?”
You sat for a moment before you remembered. “Oh! Where’s my phone? It was some dude on Tinder—I saved screenshots of his profile.” You found your purse on the side table next to you and dug until you found your phone. You ignored the texts and missed calls from your friends, probably freaking out since you haven’t contacted them yet, and pulled up the pictures. “I went on a date with Jerry last night,” you said, showing the pictures to the detectives.
“This is perfect, definitely enough for a warrant,” Carisi replied, smirking and giving you an impressed glance. You felt the blush crossing your cheeks and fidgeted uncomfortably. “Can you text me those pictures?”
You agreed and he gave you his number. You tried to ignore the fact that you now had his personal cell phone number as you sent the photos to him, your stomach flip-flopping.
“Is it alright if we talk to you in a couple days? See if you remember anything?” Rollins asked, already making her way to the door.
“Uh, yeah, sure,” you said, watching them leave. Carisi gave you a small smile before he made it to the door. “Wait!” you called out, making him stop. Carisi stood in the doorway, brow furrowed as he looked at you. “Can you please tell me what the hell happened last night? Even if you only found me somewhere—I just, I need to know something. Was I…was I attacked--?”
Carisi’s eyes filled with a sadness; he was obviously upset that you couldn’t remember anything. He turned to look out the door. “You go on to Barba’s, get the warrant. I’ll meet up with you,” he said to his partner before coming back into the room. He pulled over the visitor chair and sat down next to your bed.
“I’ll tell you all I know; I was at the bar with my Lieutenant and Rollins after work when I looked over and saw you sitting there with Jerry. Now, Jerry looked like a suspect from a case I was working a couple months back. So, I was keeping an eye on ya, just in case.” He paused for a moment, looking slightly embarrassed that he admitted watching you, but all you were feeling right now was appreciation that someone had your back. Thank god he was there, had noticed something. “When you stood up, I knew something was wrong; you were swaying and looking like you were about to pass out. I told my Lieu, and we were coming over to make sure you were alright when Jerry came back. He was trying to tell us you were drunk, and he was going take you home. Right then, you collapsed, asking for help. My Lieu arrested Jerry right there, and Rollins and I brought ya here. But we couldn’t hold him, and we couldn’t prove he was the one to drug you. But, with your screenshots, hopefully we can check his place, find roofies in his possession.”
You sat there, dumbfounded with how incredibly lucky you had been that three NYPD detectives were there when you were drugged, and how bad it could’ve ended for you if they weren’t.
“Thank you, so much, Detective Carisi,” you managed, trying to think of something else to say.
“Please, call me Sonny,” he replied, smiling. You felt yourself melting at that smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, though, concern was still deep in his expression. Then, a thought struck you.
“That case you were working on a month ago, that Jerry matched the description for. What did he do?”
Sonny suddenly seemed uncomfortable, unwilling to talk, considering how lengthy of a description he just gave you from the previous night. That wasn’t a good sign.
“We, uh, we were investigatin’ a man who would roofie a woman, then rape her and leave her…dead body in her own bed. The only connection he had to the victims were that they used Tinder. But he would delete his account before we could find it. All we had was security footage and some eyewitness accounts of the man.”
Your heart started beating faster at the words “dead body.” If Jerry was indeed this man, then you almost died last night. You didn’t quite know how to process that.
You were staring at the bright white of your bedsheets when you heard Sonny ask, “[Y/N], are you alright?” He dipped his head down, trying to get in your line of sight. You snapped out of your thoughts, looking up to him.
“I—yeah, I just…I almost died?” your throat constricted on the last word. You felt hot tears in your eyes, and you blinked fast, trying to not let them fall. You really didn’t want to cry in front of this man, and not just because he was cute; you didn’t want to have a full breakdown in front of someone you didn’t know.
“Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe now. ‘Sides, we don’t know for sure if Jerry’s our guy, or just some predator. Either way, we’ll get him, I promise you.” Sonny gave you another heart melting smile, before he stood up. “You have my number if ya need to talk, okay? Don’t be afraid to shoot me a text.”
You smiled as he left, shutting the door softly behind him. You already wanted to text him, but to ask him out to coffee, not to help you through your shock. But you also didn’t think that that was very appropriate, asking an SVU detective out after he saved you from being assaulted. Besides, your mind was reeling from the past 24 hours. First thing’s first, better text all your friends and let them know you were alive and unharmed. And then you were definitely deleting Tinder.
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spideyswifey · 4 years ago
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Power Couple: FootballStar!Thomas X Cheerleader!Reader Chapter 1: Practice and Parties
Okay so... this is my first x reader fic and I’m nervous on how this turns out 😬 I just had this idea of Thomas as a high school football star and the reader the cheer captain and they’re just a power couple! Also this was suppose to be like a little imagine, but ya girl ended up writing so much that this is now definitely going to be a series. Anyway without further ado I give you; Power Couple Chapter 1!!!
P.S I was inspired by @daveeddiggsit Wideout series for this. Y’all should go check her out if you haven’t already because her writing is AMAZING! And because of her I have become a simp for a football star thom! 🥺
Word Count: 1.4k
Pairing: FootballStarThom! X CheerCaptain!Reader
Warnings: None for now, as far as I know, but if you see some let me know!
Summary: For Y/N, being the freshman cheer captain definitely had its perks, a cute uniform, a badass squad that’s always got your back, and getting the attention of a certain freshman football team captain. And one day, Thomas Jefferson decides to approach her after practice.
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“5, 6, 7, and 8! Whoo! Good job everyone!” Y/N exclaimed to her team as they just finished the last steps of their routine. Their coach nodded in approval, “Yes, now go ahead and rest up for the weekend! I’ll see you all on Monday!” A chorus of “Okays” and “See you coach!” could be heard by the rest of the team.
Y/n had knelt down on the track putting her stuff away in her gym bag, along with a few of her teammates/ friends. Her friends were excitedly chatting about the first football game of the season next Friday. She shared a smile, excited for their first time to cheer in front of a crowd at the freshman game.
“I just hope we get a pretty good turnout,” one of her best friends, Peggy piped up beside her, “Not a lot of people really come to the freshman games.” “Well they will this year once they see the amazing freshman cheer team led by the best captain ever!” Her other best friend, Lafayette, had proclaimed while he nudged her, giving her a cheeky grin. Y/n playfully rolled her eyes at her foreign friend, “C’mon Laf, you give me way to much credit!”
“Nah, he’s right Y/n! You’ve worked your ass off for the captains spot and you’ve earned it, you’ve gotta give yourself some credit at least!” Peggy declared, disagreeing with her friends previous statement. “Ok ok I’ll admit,” Y/n sighed contentedly “It is pretty rewarding to be where I am after practicing till my legs felt like they would fall off!” They all laughed together at her comment, finally standing up to leave the track.
“Speaking of rewards,” Peggy spoke up, a smirk suddenly appearing on her face, “It looks like a certain someone has also noticed your hard work.” Y/n followed Peggys stare, leading her to none other than the freshman football team captain, Thomas Jefferson; who had been caught, not so subtly staring at the three.
Thomas quickly looked away, hurriedly putting the rest of his stuff away, as he had just finished practice himself. He couldn’t help but look at her tho, she exuded confidence in a way that made him attracted to her. The way she smiled while performing a cheer, the way her ponytail bounced while she moved in step, everything about her was captivating to him and he knew right away that he had to at least talk to her, and then hopefully date her. Thomas then zipped up his bag, said a brief goodbye to his teammates, and decided to head over to Y/n’s group.
“No way!” Y/n scoffed, “We were probably just laughing too loud and annoyed him.” It was her friends’ turn to scoff, “Y/n,” Peggy started, “You’re hot girl! Why wouldn’t he be looking at you?” “I agree mom amie, you are a ray of sunshine who’s beauty over flows! Any guy would be foolish not to be attracted to you!” Lafayette concurred with Peggy.
Y/n began to blush at her friends praise, trying to hide the smile growing on her face. “Thanks guys.” Just as they were about to reach the exit, a figure jogging toward them caught Peggys eye. “Oh and look! Thomas Jefferson sure ain’t a fool since he’s coming right over here!” She tried to contain her squeal of excitement. Y/n’s head shot in the direction of Peggys excited gaze. Suddenly she could feel her heartbeat speed up and her hands begin to sweat. Thomas Jefferson was approaching her!
“And I think that’s our cue to go Peggy, Good luck mon amie!” Laf shot her a wink as he and Peggy hurry to leave so they can give Y/n some time alone with Thomas. “I want details later!” Peggy harshly whispered, seeing as Thomas was now in earshot, and quickly left giggling with Lafayette about their best friend.
Thomas stopped right in front of her, quickly doing a once over of her practice outfit. “Uh, hi! It’s Y/n right?” Her eyes widened at the way her name left his lips. “Oh, Yeah hi! Thomas?” She mentally facepalmed, you already know his name idiot!
“Yeah” Thomas gave her a small smile, “Uh, I hope I don’t come off as creepy but, I couldn’t help but notice you practicing.” “Oh?” She questioned, a smirk now appearing on her face, now that he had admitted to watching her, a certain confidence started to ease her nerves. “Uh, yeah. Your moves are pretty good!” Thomas sheepishly complimented her while mentally scolding himself. Dude what is wrong with you? You’re never this nervous!
“Oh, thanks!” She grinned happily, “You’ve got some pretty good moves yourself captain!” She winked. “Oh really?” Thomas asked, “You’ve been watching my moves?” It was now his turn to smirk. Y/n looked down timidly, biting her lip quickly before responding. “Well, I’ve gotta keep tabs on who’s gonna possibly lead us to victory on our first game next Friday, you gonna prove me right?” She challenged. “Oh absolutely!” Thomas beamed. “And when I’m doing so, I hope the cheer squad is able to pump us all up!” He winked. “Oh trust me! We’re more than ready!” Y/n exclaimed. They both shared a laugh, the nerves leaving both of them as they bantered and started walking towards the front of the school together.
“So, listen,” Thomas started, “I’m not sure if you heard, but there’s gonna be a party at my house after the game on Friday, regardless if we win or not, and um I’d like it if you could come.” He looked at her with hope in his eyes. She was just so infatuating and he couldn’t get enough. “Oh, um ok!” She replied bashfully, that blush coming back to her cheeks. “Um my squad can come too right?” “No yeah of course, um everyone’s invited, especially the cheer captain.” He smirked.
Y/n was about to respond when a honk caught her off guard. They both looked in the direction of the sound and saw her older brother Zack, waiting for her in the drivers side. “That’s my ride,” she sighed, not wanting their conversation to end. Thomas nodded defeatedly. “I’ll see you around then?” He asked, hoping this wasn’t the last time they’d get to interact. Y/n smiled, “Definitely!” And with one last burst of conifidence, she took her phone out of her gym bag and placed it in Thomas’s hand. He glanced at her, eyebrows furrowed.
“How else am I gonna get directions to the captains party, hm?” She answered his puzzled gaze with a small giggle. Thomas chuckled and put his number in her phone, then gave her his so she could do the same. They exchanged gleeful glances as y/n started to walk towards her brothers car. Just before she opened the door, she turned to give Thomas one last line, “See you around, Captain!” Thomas chuckled shaking his head, his curls bouncing. “You too, Captain!”
With that Y/n entered the vehicle , hardly containing her smile. “So, who was that?” Her brother eyed her as she sat in the front seat with a goofy grin on her face. “No one.” She replied while trying to hide the smile growing on her face. “Mhm, ok” her brother quipped, deciding to ignore it for now and interrogate her later. Y/n paid no mind to her brother, looking out the window as he drove off towards their house. The alert of a text from her phone brought her out of her daze as she checked to see who it was.
From: Football Captain Thomas 🏈🔥😉
Hey, I just wanted to let you know that it was nice talking to you. 😅 Here’s the address for the party! Hope to see you there, cheer captain 😉
Y/n bit her lip while typing a reply.
Thomas watched as the car took off, the smile never leaving his face. He quickly pulled out his phone to text the girl that has him charmed, while walking towards his moms car as she just pulled up. His mom made small conversation as he sat himself in the front seat. He then felt his phone vibrate.
From: Cheer Captain Y/n 📣😍🔥
It was nice talking to you too! Bring us a victory and we’ll see 😜 Don’t let me down football captain 😉
Thomas beamed as he read the message. If there was any more motivation he needed to win this game, he knew this was it. He was gonna do it so the beautiful captain of the freshman cheer squad would go to his party. And Y/n herself knew either way she would go, if it meant more time with the freshman football captain, she would definitely go to this party.
Looks like being the captain of the team definitely has its perks.
I hope you all liked it! I didn’t even think it would be this long and yet, here we are! 😅 Also what do y’all think about male cheerleader Laf?!? I just had the idea and it wouldn’t go away and honestly I love it!!! Also if you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters just let me know and I’d be more than happy to do so! 😘 Anyway let me know what y’all think! 🥺♥️
-With Love,
Spidey’s Wifey 🕷♥️🖤
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ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 3 years ago
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Whats your main opinion on that 3 R members? Do you think we’ll see them again? (because I want to see Rakepick so badly…)
Ah my good friend, you are brave to voice that opinion. To all my beloved other anons, you leave them alone, okay? Don't crack down on them. It took guts to say that.
As far as Rakepick goes, my feelings about her are well documented. My primary feelings about her are ones of disappointment. I believe she had the potential to be one of the standout characters in this game and for a while, she was. Right up until the Portrait Vault. That was when everything went wrong, and the writing of her character suffered. Her intelligence waned, her personality changed in unconvincing ways, and what could have been the greatest trickster ever was reduced to a one note character. The game really wanted to push her as the new main villain, but that only kind of worked in my opinion, because we had so much history with her. Her villainy rode on the coattails of the time when she was actually interesting. Will we see her again? I don't know. I don't want to let you down, but I'm inclined to guess no, we won't. And like I've said before, I think The Sunken Vault gave her about as good a sendoff as she's going to get at this point, unless they do a massive backpedal and actually restore her prominence, as well as her compelling aspects...but my hopes aren't high. Don't despair though, she could appear again. She's either been taken by the authorities...who we know have been infiltrated by R...or she's been trapped in the Sunken Vault, and I highly doubt that R isn't going to try and open it again. Merula will have told them everything by now. I'd say Rakepick's role in the story is likely over, but I could be wrong.
Then we have the White Robed Wizard. I like this guy. The one thing I cannot stand is that he has yet to be given a name, even though he was identified as far back as the beginning of Year 6. Come on, guys! As villains go, he has an air of mystery about him, that appeals to me. The depth of his villainy isn't really known. Just how evil is he? While he definitely seems to enjoy playing the part, I also get the sense that he's one of those villains who doesn't believe he's a villain. He seems to believe in whatever cause R is fighting for. Which could foreshadow a change in loyalties down the line. Perhaps. Though if any of the current R agents are going to do that, it'll be Merula. Anyway, I love his design, and I love the background story that he wears white robes because he was expelled from Mahoutokoro for using the Dark Arts. That's really neat. I bet he's another Jacob, another Merula. Someone that R preyed upon as a child, tempting him with their powers and secrets. Hence why he "turned white." As it were. He looks to be about Jacob's age, even. Which gives me a lot of curious thoughts and speculative ideas. Do they know each other? As for whether or not we'll see him again...well, I'm not going to speculate on that, actually. Sorry, but the truth is...I kind of already know the answer. I read the datamines, see. And without giving anything away, I do know the answer to that question.
The Dark Witch is last but not least. I want to say first and foremost that I really dig her design. She just looks so spooky and yet sort of regal at the same time. It's basically confirmed at this point that she is the metamorphmagus and that only makes her cooler. On a meta level, I love how we actually met her for the first time in disguise, having no idea who she was or how important she would turn out to be. Especially since, like I said, I read the datamines. So I knew about her sprite for a while before it was revealed. A genuine double twist for me when she unmasked. She's obviously clever and has all sorts of magic and different abilities up her sleeve that make her a formidable enemy. And I do mean enemy. That's another thing. If any R member gets given more dimension to make them sympathetic and potentially tease redemption...yeah, it's not going to be The Dark Witch. Especially not after the way Rakepick was handled, there's just no way. She simply exudes a kind of confident evil, and everything from her design to the way the other characters talk about her, makes it very clear that she's going to be one evil witch. She's clearly a high ranking member of R, possibly been involved for decades considering how much older she is than the Mahoutokoro wizard. She seems to have been the main figure behind the "Merula assignment" so to speak. So nah, she's either The Leader or The Leader's right hand. And because of this, I am so very certain that we'll see her again.
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grimmori · 5 years ago
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🅱lease give me those sweet sweet kingsmith hcs im very interested in your interpretation of them
oh my, I'm just glad you asked!
they're my favorite, so naturally I think about them a LOT. unfortunately. so I'll try to keep this list to only a few hcs/ideas, haha.
-when they first met, David didn't make the best first impression on Quentin, naturally. now Quentin is a forgiving guy and he always gives people the benefit of the doubt even if they don't deserve it. but David continually showed him aggression for seemingly no reason, so his perception of David quickly soured. perhaps it spiraled and at the peak of their distaste for each other, Quentin very honestly tells David to get his shit together. David reluctantly obliges, but he doesn't tell Quentin that.
-David actually learned to care a lot for Quentin, taking a liking to his altruism and how much inner strength he exuded. needless to say, David totally started crushing on Quentin first, he just wasn't sure what to do with it.
-David showed his care for Quentin via trying to protect him or scolding his irrational behavior, as if he himself doesn't do the same shit. Now, Quentin HATES being told what to do, and takes David's care the complete wrong way, and David is too stubborn to correct him (honestly he doesn't fully realize he like likes quen until much much MUCH later, still thinking quentin is just a dumb kid he feels obligated to look after).
-David hates how stupidly self sacrificial Quentin is, but then he never lets anyone help him. Quentin likes to act like a standalone act that keeps everyone at an arms length because he's afraid of those close to him getting hurt (like in the past with Nancy and all of his other friends). Of course David doesn't know that and takes it as some bratty act by someone who is begging for attention.
-Eventually, they talk it out (by talk it out I mean a full blown fight in an innapropriate place of course lol that's just how they roll), and they start to realize what each other's intentions are. Quentin gives David his second chance, and David learns to not underestimate Quentin anymore. Of course David is still a tad bit overprotective, he can't help it, but he's more confident that Quentin will be okay. That trust is what really leads their relationship into blooming.
-Quentin is definitely the last to know that David loves him, with David coming in just before him. He's honestly too stuck in his own head to think about how the others feel about him, but once he does he can't stop.
-Quentin is super uncomfortable with intimacy, so it takes a while for David to break through that layer, but once he does Quentin really comes out of his shell. He's more assertive and David is totally into it. David always allows Quentin to be in control with intimate stuff, no matter what (and Quentin greatly appreciates having such a patient lover).
-David is an avid lucid dreamer, unlike Quentin, who had to train himself to even question the nature of his dreams. It took him a long time to grasp the concept and use it against Freddy, and David is just like "ya I do that all the time! super fun :D"
-They both like to ramble a LOT, especially Quentin who has ADD.
-They like to tease each other about the cultural differences between them (David being from 1980s Britain, and Quentin 2010s USA). It's all they can do, otherwise it gets scary to think about David being like 26 years older than Quentin if they were still in the real world. (My Quentin is ~22 and my David is ~25 btw)
oops did I say this was gonna be a short list? I lied. I totally lied, dude.
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babyitsacrime · 5 years ago
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1, 22, 23, and 43 for the OC asks.
First off, I apologize for my absolutely atrocious grammar here and also the fact that I just can’t seem to put things into words.
Secondly I wrote this in a different app and then copy pasted so the formatting is a little whack.
1. Your first OC ever?
Oh gosh this one is a little hard to answer. I think Natalia’s my first OC that I ever fully wrote well but me and my friends used to write a lot of stories/fanfiction in middle school so I have some characters from there too that might be older than Nat. Also there’s like three different versions of Nat (Quizup, Next Gen, and the Nat I have now) , and again the one I have right now is by far the most developed/closest to a whole character.
Okay but I talk about Nat a lot so even though I’m not sure which one actually came first I’ll talk about a character I had in the Homestuck fanfiction my friends and I wrote in middle school. (before you ask, yes it’s the 100 page one I’m pretty sure) (also I’m ignoring the self inserts me n my friends made for our other stories bc those don’t count as ocs and I refuse to accept them as characters dhdksjdjs) But basically she’s a troll named Ninmah Aurora. She was heavily based off of Kanaya Maryam, the iconic Homestuck vampire fashion designer lesbian character so that was interesting. And even though I didn’t actually write that much for her she’s one of my favorite characters because I had so much fun writing her with my friends. Anyways can’t believe I just exposed myself as a Homestuck stan on main but you know what it’s fine.
22. Is there any OC of yours that people tend to mischaracterize? If yes, how?
Okay there’s a couple and most of them are small things so I’ll just go by character.
Natalia -
let me just start by saying this: it still baffles me why y’all think she’s cool cshdjsj. She’s kinda a dumb bitch if I’m being honest. Like, don’t get me wrong, she’s super smart and could easily outwit me and honestly any of us, but she’s also plain stupid sometimes in other ways. But like, on the other side of the coin I feel like she almost doesn’t get taken seriously sometimes? I feel like that’s a little on me for usually making jokes at her expense but while she is clueless as to how people function she’s also not plain dumb. A lot of what she says and does is well calculated and even when she does something in the spur of the moment it’s always something logical to her. Hn I don’t know if I’m explaining this right but 🤷♀️. But basically she’s not really cool but also she’s not stupid. (Okay ig being good at Quidditch is pretty cool but that’s not my point)
Also I don’t know why but some people (very few people but it’s still annoying to me) seem to think that her being bi is a huge part of her personality when it’s really not. While she is bi, not everything she does is motivated by that fact if that makes any sense. Like for example, if she’s wearing be a rainbow dress it’s not because she’s (and I quote) "team gay" it’s because she liked the damn dress. Okay I’m rambling now but all I’m saying is that it kinda annoys me when people see her being bi as a hugely defining personality trait. Also she isn’t the only character I notice this happens to.
Ishaan -
Similarly to Nat, whole he does enjoy pranking and such, he’s actually a serious person most of the time. Think of him as more of like a serious and skeptical person who also has a good sense of humor. Although I will say that he does sometimes go out of his way to make a joke sometimes, that’s only sometimes and mostly just to annoy Priya.
Lysander -
Another case of the being gay isn’t his personality. Also??? He’s not gay??? I don’t really know where that came from (like I know who mentioned it to me but I have no clue where she got that from aside from just assuming?) for the record, he is also bi and has a slight preference for girls (mostly bc he likes having an s/o shorter than him but we won’t go into that rn). *slams fists on table* jUST BECAUSE HES FUNNY DOESNT MEAN HES THE TOKEN GAY FRIEND OKAY (okay okay I’m done ranting time to continue)
I also feel like his joking nature is often seen as a sign of him not being as a lack of intellect, but that is in no way true. While he isn’t a genius or anything, he’s a little smarter than average, yet still prone to making dumb decisions because he is still a child. But with more life experience he’ll make smarter decisions while still retaining a joking demeanor.
Priya -
I’m going to keep this one short, but she isn’t as cold and cruel as I sometimes make her seem when I talk about her. I feel like this one’s mostly on me but yeah, she’s a caring person for the most part, just a little misguided and/or dramatic at times.
~I think that’s all of them but I might be wrong? Also none of those explanations make a lot of sense I’m sorry 😔~
23. Introduce an OC that has changed from what your first idea considering what the character would be like.
*drags Nat out again* Here you go.
So I mentioned earlier that there’s like three different versions of her, but in all reality they almost feel like different characters with the same name. However I will say that Next Gen Nat and the Nat I have now (I like to call it her final form bc I think I’m finally happy with her) are similar in many many aspects. But I’ll talk about this Nat because I like her the best and she’s the only Nat I actively use. She was originally intended to be a lot colder/closed off than she is. (Think a lot closer to Aster, but I think pep also had a similar thing with him.) She just ended up becoming a lot softer and a little friendlier than I intended her to be. I’m not exactly unhappy with that though, I feel like this actually added a bit more dimension to her character and it actually gave me a little more room to improve her. It was also bound to happen anyways, especially with the characters she’s friends with/will be friends with. So yeah, it’s interesting and honestly I feel like I’m happy with the changes from what I originally intended her to be.
Hm while I’m here I guess I should also talk about Taemoon.
I don’t know that his personality changed much from my original intent, but his story and intent definitely did. He started as a character that exuded a lack of hope. I don’t know if that sentence makes a lot of sense, but he was originally going to have no chance at happiness in the end. He was supposed to let all of his anger and hurt consume him, making him hell bent on revenge, which would only push him further from anything that could make him happy, but I feel like the end of his story is a lot more hopeful now. I don’t know exactly what it is, but ever since pep asked if Jae Hong could adopt him Taemoon’s life story has become something a lot less disheartening. Now I’ve given him a lot more to live for, and a lot more to make him happy. First off, instead of being alone he now has a family that he quickly grows to trust, and a group of friends with similar experiences that basically become family as well. While he is still very revenge driven, he has a lot more to his life than just that; most importantly he has people he trusts that will keep him from becoming consumed by all of his anger. But yeah, he has become a much more hopeful character as a whole and honestly. I feel like that’s what I really needed. Idk about everyone else but I feel like changing his story to the way it is now really has helped me to feel a lot better in general.
43. Do you have any certain type when you create your OCs? Do you tend to favor certain traits or looks?
Oh god it’s time to confess 😔🤙
So, as most of you have figured out, most of my ocs tend to be very attractive and very capable (and willing) to step on me. If they’re not that then they’re in the minority.
Aside from being physically attractive as a whole, I’d say that in regards to looks, the more they look like they haven’t slept in weeks and are ready to kill a man, the better. If not that, then it’s an oc that looks like I could cuddle with them for hours on end. There’s no in between.
As for traits I tend to favor, probably the most popular is a bad attitude. If you take a look at some of my most used and/or favorite characters, you’ll find that in most cases the snarkier the better. Honestly this is true of characters that aren’t even mine, I just really have a type. At the same time though, I like these characters to have a secret soft side even if it’s only for one other character they care about. On the flip side, I also like writing characters that are genuinely the nicest people you’ll ever meet. I don’t know why but I just love them so much they are truly my children.
Also. Characters that grin in the face of danger? *chefs kiss* I like characters where you question if what they’re doing is out of courage or a death wish. For this reason so many of my characters play some kind of dangerous sport or enjoy dueling, you get what I mean. This goes for both my Edgy™️ characters as well as my soft characters.
Additionally, I do have a lot of characters that are wealthy. Uh. I think that mostly speaks for itself so I’m not going to comment on it any further than this.
Also. Flowers. For some reason I go for faceclaims that eat flowers. It’s not even something I actively seek out??? Like I’ll find someone cute and I’ll be scrolling through pictures and there they are. Eating a flower. This mostly goes for my guy fcs but yeah. Idk how it happens but it just does and I’ve come to accept it.
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pinkanonwrites · 6 years ago
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Sheena Is A Punk Rocker
I love punk and now so does Mirio. Enjoy! @yena-sama
Three blocks from the gates of UA, tucked in between a convenience store and a quirk consultation office, is a tiny little music shop called “The Beat Box”, a comfortably cramped little slice of heaven packed to the brim with obscure CDs, collector vinyls, and musical score books for the amateur to most experienced.
But Mirio didn’t only go to this shop due to the convenience of location and span of collection. No, Mirio went to The Beat Box because one of their most regular employees was unbelievably, ridiculously, irrevocably charming.
The first time he entered the store was the first time he met her. She was standing on a stepladder right next to the doorway, hanging a red-and-black guitar up upon the wall just above the door frame. A little bell jingled above the door as he stepped in, and she looked down to him just as he looked up to her. Mirio wasn’t used to having to look up at anyone.
“Watch your head there, hun.” You extended a hand and fluttered your fingers just above his head. More as a motion of warning than of contact he was sure, but he still felt the tips of your fingers brush just against his hair. “Wouldn't wanna clock you or anything.”
“Ah! Thank you!” He smiled, shuffling away a step or two. “That’s a pretty swanky guitar you've got there!”
“Not just any guitar. This beauty's a Mosrite Ventures II Slab Body, same guitar Johnny Ramone played.”
“Cool! I don’t really know what that means, but it sure looks impressive.”
You couldn’t help but laugh a little at the blond’s unwavering optimism. “It means I’m a big music geek, and should probably get back to work.” You hopped gently from the ladder and landed at his feet.
Whoa, he’s a lot taller from down here. Broader too.
“Anyway,” You had to stop yourself from shaking your head to keep your mind from wandering. “Welcome to The Beat Box. CDs are down here.” You gestured your arms in a wide circle around you. “Vinyls are upstairs, books are on the back wall. Gimme a holler if you’ve got any questions.”
“Yeah, I will! Thank you!” And with that he began trawling around the store, head turning again and again as he tried to take in as much as he could at once. He didn’t seem to be looking for anything in particular like most of your customers. In fact, he sort of reminded you of a little kid going to the aquarium for the first time. Cute.
You grabbed a box of new releases from the counter and shuffled through the CD aisles along with him, trying to give him enough space that he didn’t feel like you were tailing around. He seemed interested in some of the posters on the wall, and you were nearly about to tell him about a few of the artists when another customer hollered you over from upstairs, tapping their foot and looking ready to fight with you over the authenticity of your vinyl collection on hand.
After a lengthy and frankly exhausting discussion you had been able to shoo them out the door (without a purchase, figures), but the blond boy was already gone.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
On the other end of this interaction, Mirio found himself magnetically fascinated by you. There was just something about the way your eyes lit up when you started talking about guitars and this ‘Johnny Ramone’ guy. You had an interesting sense of style, too. Lots of black and white and piercings, checkerboard patterns and safety-pinned flannel, but nothing about you was even the slightest bit unfriendly. You seemed to exude this warming kindness that hung onto Mirio even as he left the store. He wished that he could’ve found something to buy, just to talk to you one more time. Guess he’d have to come back.
Mirio held onto your little interaction all the way back to school, back to bed, back through the weekend and into the next week and before he knew it he was at the door of The Beat Box once again, pushing it open with a delightful little ring! and scooting inside and…
You weren’t there.
There was an older gentleman seated at the front counter, feet propped up on the glass surface as he flipped through a magazine. He only nodded at Mirio as he entered before turning his attention back to the pages. Upstairs there were a few customers pawing through records, and there was even a kid with his mother checking out one of the guitars, but you were nowhere to be found.
“Excuse me?” Mirio sidled up to the counter, where the man lowered the magazine just enough to see him. “Is there a girl that works here? Lots of piercings, knows about guitars?”
“... You an ex-boyfriend or somethin’?”
“N-no! She was just, you know, really helpful last time. I wanted to see if she was… here… again. Wow you’re right, that can sound really creepy in the wrong context.”
The man chuckled, lowering his feet and slapping the magazine down on the countertop. “You’re a funny guy. As long as you ain’t harassing my staff we ain’t got a problem, kid. Don’t think she’s in today though. Better luck next time.”
“Ah, thank you.” Nodding, Mirio moved towards the door to leave, when suddenly… there you were.
“Hey! Blondie!” You chirped at him, sending a pang through Mirio’s heart. “Glad you’re back around! We always love getting some fresh blood in this ol’ place.” You shuffled up to the counter and wordlessly the man there reached underneath it, handing you a three-ring binder without even looking up from his page. “Thanks, Akira-san.” You turned back to Mirio and waggled the book at him gently. “Forgot my notes. I usually work Saturdays but I’ve got a big exam this week. Have a good one!”
“Y-you too!” Was all Mirio managed to say before you were gone again in a whirl of torn, black clothes and jingling metal rings. Looking back towards the counter, the man (Akira?) had his nose back in the magazine, a cheeky little smirk across his face. He glanced up and met Mirio’s eyes.
“You gonna buy something, kid? Or are you only here for the eye candy?”
Any attempts at a thoughtful response were dashed out by Mirio’s frantic sputtering, which only caused the smile on Akira’s face to grow ever wider. Cutting his losses, Mirio made a beeline for the door, with a flustered ‘HAVE A GOOD DAY!’, hoping his cheeks weren’t quite as flushed as they felt. Welp, guess he’d have to come back again.
Third time’s a charm, right?
At least you would think. But three visits turned to four, to five, to seven, and now here Mirio was, trip number nine. And still he had made no progress in talking to you. It didn’t help that at least two more of those visits Mirio was greeted not by you, but by Akira, who took great delight in teasing Mirio about his consistency.
But trip number nine! That would be the one, Mirio was sure of it. He even brought Tamaki and Nejire for emotional support. Though Nejire wouldn’t stop smiling at him like a kid who had just caught their older sibling sneaking home after curfew, knowing that this particular bargaining chip would work in any number of situations.
“It’s not like you’ve got nothing to talk about!” Nejire teased, elbowing Mirio in the side. He just gulped, eyes flickering between the CD he was pretending to look at and you, leaning over the counter and chatting with another customer about their purchase, moving your hands around in big, bright gestures as you talked. “Just ask her what kind of music she likes!”
“Don’t you think she hears that question a lot?” Tamaki asked.
“Well then, ask what kind of music she’d recommend!”
“She probably hears that one a lot too.”
“You aren’t helping, Tamaki!” Nejire swatted him on the shoulder. She put both hands on Mirio’s back, pushing him eagerly towards the counter. “Now go get em’, tiger!” Mirio nearly stumbled, but he managed to catch himself on the counter’s edge.
“Hey Blondie!” You were smiling at him, and Mirio’s heart did a backflip off the inside of his ribcage. “Fancy seeing you around here again.”
“Haha, yeah! Guess I just can’t get away!” He scratched at the back of his neck, eyes cast down at the countertop.
“... Sooooooo, can I help you find any-”
“MUSIC!” Mirio burst out, and the two of you flinched back in shock simultaneously. His cheeks bloomed into a remarkable shade of red, and he stumbled over his words frantically. “You know a lot about music, and I don’t. So you might have some good ideas for music? That I’d like. For me. Yeah.”
You didn’t respond right away, which nearly sent Mirio’s brain into panic mode. But you giggled, reaching under the counter and pulling out a CD case.
“I kinda hoped you would ask that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! Akira told me you’ve been here a lot but you haven’t bought anything yet, so I figured you might appreciate some suggestions.” You turned the CD case over in your hands a few times as you spoke. “I lean into a lot of punk-inspired music, and there’s a lot of subcultures to the original genre. So I went with something a bit lighter, more towards new-wave. Help you dip your toes in a bit.” Holding the CD out to him, Mirio took it carefully from your hands. The photo on the front was an up-close shot of a woman’s face, wearing stark eyeliner and bold, red lipstick. Reading the band name, he couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Heh! Blondie.”
“Yeah, I figured it was appropriate.” You looked away from him, one hand tugging on the ends of your hair. “I hope… I hope you like it.”
Had Mirio been even the slightest bit less put together than he already was he probably would’ve keeled over, the force of the metaphorical cupid’s arrow to his heart nearly turning him into a puddle. Thankfully he was able to hold himself together by the edges, though he knew he was probably smiling like an idiot. “How much?”
“It’s on me. As long as you come back next week and tell me what you thought.”
“Yeah! Yeah, definitely! I’ll definitely do that. So… See you next week?”
You laughed again, quietly. “Yeah. See you next week, Blondie.”
“Mirio.”
“Hm?”
“My name. It’s Mirio.” His heart was doing laps in his chest now, rattling up his insides something fierce.
“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Mirio.” You held out a hand, and he took it with a dreamy expression.
“Yeah…” He was so lost in you that he didn’t notice Nejire and Tamaki until they were practically right behind him. When Nejire tapped his shoulder he jumped, pulling his hand away as he did. With a final wave and a smile the three left the little shop, upon which Mirio immediately crumpled to the sidewalk in a blushing heap. Tamaki was quick to haul him back to his feet, nearly equally as flustered, and Mirio practically draped himself over the other’s shoulder as they began the trek home.
“She gave me a CD!”
“I know, Mirio.”
“And a nickname!”
“I know, Mirio.”
“And she asked me to come back!”
“Yes Mirio, I was there.”
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heathered-beinn · 4 years ago
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Rookie King musings
Initials thoughts on the band
OMG they were so tiny and cute and lively and fun and hilarious and playful #mypoorachingheart. I really hope they retain all that going ahead - and I think they somewhat do because that’s what drew me in when I saw them on Carpool Karaoke. It was also wonderfully refreshing, especially as a Westerner, to see a band so obviously close who are as physically affectionate with each other as they are playful/rough. They already seem like a band of brothers which is simply wonderful (and entertaining when they roughhouse) to watch.
I’m guessing the band is part of some kind of music school / music business at this point and boards (?) near the main building? The dorm (or apartment) seems awfully small and cramped for seven young men though. It also seems a little rundown for what I would expect of a band - and not because it’s full of messy teens. I don’t know the story here but if anyone would like to talk about it I’ll be very curious to learn more!
Side-note: subtitles are an absolute blessing!
My thoughts on each band member
I’m learning their names! I don’t want to Google their real names but pick them up naturally as I watch – I’d rather address them as the name they use for themselves most often. I’m also starting to learn about Korean honorifics and the culture that discerns how someone older/younger address you both in speech and behaviour.
Rapmonster, RM – Nam Joon? (Should I hyphen? What’s the correct protocol here?)
So he’s sweet, funny, a little self-deprecating but with good humour, comes across as a little long-suffering (or simply exhausted) with his more energetic bandmates at times but seems like he cares for them greatly regardless and tries to join in as much as he can. Personality wise I haven’t pinpointed him down yet but he seems mid-way between an introvert and an extrovert. 
From watching Rookie King is seems like he is a good rapper and a decent singer but not so hot on the dance moves or at sport/games – which was hilarious at times!
He’s not the most physically affectionate but comes across as encouraging and comforting from a distance. The band refer to him as the leader but he’s not the oldest, which is interesting. So far he seems to get the best with Suga and Jin. Nothing was evident from the Late Late Show as to who he grows the closest to – he maybe grows more into the leader role and keeps everyone close but on an equal par? That’s my guess but I can’t wait to find out!
 Suga – Yoon? I’ve not learned his real name yet (again, I’m reluctant to resort to Google just yet). I’m guessing he’s one who uses his stage name more? That probably helps him break away from his real self and his performer self - healthy!
Loud, engaging, good sense of humour, confident, entertaining, comes across as in charge – more so than RM – and isn’t afraid to roughhouse with his bandmates. I’m pegging him as an extrovert which is interesting as he didn’t come across like that at all on the Late Late Show.
From Rookie King Suga seems like he is a great rapper (perhaps the lead rapper of the band?), a decent dancer, an okay singer, good at sports - particularly basketball. Seems to be close friends with Jin and shares the most physical contact with him. Also seems close to Namjoon. Overall not the most physically affectionate but also not afraid of contact either. So far he seems to be what you see is what you get. I think it’ll be very interesting to see how his personality and place in the band develops over the years.
 Jin – sorry love, I haven’t learned your real name either yet! I’m guessing you’re another one who uses their stage name more, which I really think is a good thing for an artist to do!
The eldest. Confident, loud, good humoured, fun, but perhaps a little more stern than RM and Suga? Perhaps this is because he’s older and I’m learning that Korean culture expects the younger ones to respect him more. As they age I’m guessing this dynamic might loosen up a little?
I’m not so sure where his vocal talents lie. So far I’ve seen him rap but I do think he might be a singer too. Like RM, he’s not so hot on the dance moves (or sport/games in general) but it makes for some good entertainment. He seems to get along best with Suga and RM, maybe because they are closer in age? I think it’ll take a bit more watching for me to understand his relationships with the rest of the band. If I was to guess I think he’ll stay fairly close to Suga but, while playful with the others, he might remain a bit distanced from the rest of band. I really hope I’m completely wrong – I’d love to be surprised and he becomes like, I don’t know, the one everyone goes to when they need looked after - the parent figure.
 J-Hope – Hobi? I think there must be more to his real name and I’m sure it’ll come up soon!
Loud, energetic, very confident, good humoured, secure in his own sexuality, a bit of a boundary pusher because of that security, very much in the forefront of crowd, definitely an extrovert, comes across as the ultimate brother who will tease and roughhouse you 95 percent of the time but the moment you need some comfort he’s ready with open arms and the warmest of hugs. It also needs to be said that J-Hope looks stunning in a dress, omg.
He seems to be more of a singer than a rapper and a fairly strong dancer. Pretty decent at games and sports too. Quite competative! At this moment I’m not sure who he might be closest to in the band. I would perhaps guess he’s maybe emotionally closer to the elder ones (Jin, Suga, RM) at this point but more physically engaged with the younger ones? It’ll be interesting to see who he grows the closest to as the years pass!
 V – Taehyung (I pray I’ve spelt that right)
Bless this lad but I’m struggling to put my finger down on his personality because it seems to flip all the time. During Rookie King he comes across as very quiet like 70 percent of the time – although I’m not sure whether this is a by-product of being one of the youngest and thus respecting his elders. However, there are so many moments where it’s like he flips a switch and becomes so full of crazy-energy! 
To add to my confusion V comes across as being lost in his own little dazed world half the time but like I said before it’s like someone flips a switch and he  suddenly turns into this hyperaware and somewhat devious (in a good way!) character - like his dazedness was all a ruse to catch us out (which is a joy to watch!). I can’t peg him yet as to whether he’s an extrovert, introvert, or a mix – I think this may take a while to suss.
Clearly V’s a singer, although I think he might rap occasionally too? Seems like a decent dancer but maybe middle of the scale within the band? He has a surprisingly deep voice, which is just lovely!
Relationship wise within the band, V appears closer to the younger ones, Jimin and Jungkook. The three of them seem to be a bit of a trio but I’m not sure of the trio's dynamics yet. V seems to engage with Jimin the most – often in a teasing and physically playful fashion - not afraid to challenge and be rough with the other lad. So far they give off the most brotherly vibes within the band – often together having a great time but not above whomping each other when the situation allows. I’m not so sure about V and Jungkook’s relationship, they seem to hang together quite a lot but it doesn’t come across as energetic a the bond he has with Jimin. This might be down to Jungkook’s personality. The elder bandmembers seem to dote on V which is really sweet.
 Jimin – I think this is also his real name? To hyphen or not to hyphen?
Okay, so I’m going to be frank here; I saw him on the Late Late Show and compared to Rookie King the two Jimins seem like two different people! I’m going to guess he’s the one in the band who changes the most over the years and quite frankly this is FASCINATING.
Okay, so Rookie King Jimin is this small, cute, solid, ball of loud energy, who is way too cool for his tiny shoes. Maybe I’m reading too much into it (or maybe it’s the result of trying to equate how Rookie Jimin became Late Late Jimin) but he does seem like he’s putting on an act most of the time during Rookie King – playing up a role to the camera like he’s this uber tough, confident and super manly guy. And I’m not saying he isn’t that but it has that feel of someone really over-compensating. In Rookie King, Jimin also seems a little starved of attention and his talents in the group seemed to be downplayed a lot. He’s clearly physically fit (they keep talking about his abs and steel butt) so I’m guessing he’s one of the strongest dancers in the group – I know he led the Late Late show dance practice.
Back to Rookie King era; I don’t know whether his bubbly loud energy tires the other band members out a little or whether he was still finding his place but it kind of felt like Jimin was a ignored at times? I admit I kind of cringed during the Karaoke episode when everyone kept interrupting his song. I wonder if this plays a little into why he seems to change the most?
He seems the closest to the youngest members, often forming a trio unit for the games and tasks. He seems close to V, exuding classic brotherly vibes, which I mentioned above when talking about V and his relationships with the others. Despite hanging with Jungkook a lot I didn’t really see much interaction between them except the usual excited pats on shoulders and a few instances of them sticking up for each other. However, I did laugh at the end of episode 7/8 when they were all sat on the floor eating and Jimin took something out of Jungkook’s bowl and the youngest didn’t even blink!
 Jungkook – also real name?
The youngest of the band and quite adorable. He comes across as really quiet, a little shy, and a bit of an introvert and a very much a typical teenage boy – one that’s still stuck in the ‘girls scare me but no-homo’ stage. He genuinely looked terrified of that woman in the lift/elevator – it was both painful to watch and yet very endearing.
Although, I should also say that despite being quiet and shy he still has moments of great playfulness and confidence – usually when one of the older ones is egging him on. He seems to be pretty mindful of his manners and, I wouldn’t say afraid, but certainly wary of the older ones and their boundaries. This might be to do with Korean culture, what with him being the youngest and thus showing respect to the older ones.
Of course, he can also be cheeky at times! Again that’s usually when getting egged on by older members lol. I did laugh when he seemed so proud of himself for daring not to use honourifics with Jin during that game of “Of course”.
Talent wise; Jungkook, despite being the youngest, seems to be one of the main singers of the group? He’s got a really good voice, and great vocal control. He also seems like a good dancer too. It’ll be interesting to see whether he comes out of his shell more as he ages.
It’s clear that the older members dote on him – he’s very much the baby of the group and I think the shyness just makes him cuter in their eyes. I think there may be a little bit of hero-worship of the older ones from Jungkook’s side, which, if true, is really sweet. I think I’ve seem him interact the most with V and J-Hope and to a slighter lesser extent, Jimin. It’s going to be interesting seeing his relationships develop with the band as he grows older. I do wonder who he grows the closest to. I’m guessing maybe V.      
 Next up BTS China Job. Can’t wait!
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avengerofyourheart · 7 years ago
Text
Of Snowstorms and Men (Bucky AU Oneshot)
Characters: reader x Bucky, OC Tara (mentioned)
Request of sorts from this post by @whothehellisbella , summary/prompt by @novaya-model:
Hot single dad hires a broke babysitter who happens to need a date to their ex’s wedding and the two get stuck in a snow storm on the drive up there and have to cuddle in the small, tight backseat to keep warm
Warnings: mild swearing? Mentions of cheating and sexy times.
 Word Count: 3.2k (yikes. heh.)
Tags are at the bottom. Permanent list is CLOSED I’M SORRY. 
A/N: Holy crap, you guys. I haven’t written so much so fast in a really really long time. Like, 3k in 2 hours. Whoa. I’m a slow writer usually. I saw Bella’s post though and my fingers just started flying!! This is basically just a huge jumble of tropes and I really hope you like it. Any feedback and comments are appreciated! Love you guys!! 
Full Masterlist
_____________________________________________________
Three Weeks Ago:
“No offense I hope, but…you seem a bit older than most of the other applicants,” said the man who sat before you.
“None taken, I promise. Trust me, I never thought I’d be applying for a nanny job in my late 20s because I can’t get a job even with a Master’s degree,” you replied, laughing nervously.
“Understood,” he nodded. “So, what makes you a good fit for this position, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” he asked, tapping a pen lazily on your resume before him.
“Um…I mean, I love kids. I grew up babysitting throughout my whole neighborhood. I have a lot of nieces and nephews, and we all know I’m the favorite aunt. I’m responsible, hard working, I learn quickly, and I can be available any time you need,” you finished with a smile, trying to exude confidence.
The man leveled you with the steady gaze of his stormy-grey eyes curtained with long, dark lashes. He ran a hand through his longish chestnut hair and sat forward on the couch, placing your resume on the coffee table.
“Well, I think I’ve learned as much as I need about you. Do you have any questions regarding the position?” he asked.
“Well…I ask this only out of respect for you and the child, but what is the current situation? Is there going to be shared custody I should know about? Anyone else who will be caring for her? I wouldn’t want to step on any toes…” you trailed off, picking at the hem of your skirt.
“That is a valid question, so I’ll tell you. Tara’s mother is no longer in the picture. In a few weeks, our divorce will be final and Tara will be all mine. So, no custody battle. Her previous nanny was with us for almost 2 years after my wife left, but she was an older woman and the bigger and more rambunctious Tara got, the harder it was to care for her. A 3-year-old can wear out anyone, let alone a 70-year-old woman with arthritis. As you can imagine, Tara was attached and it’s difficult to find a good replacement.”
“I understand,” you stated. “Any questions you have for me, I’m an open book.”
He shifted in his seat. “I will confess, I did glance at your social media upon receiving your resume.”
“Oh,” you said, paling slightly and wracking your brain for anything incriminating or embarrassing for him to find.
“Don’t worry, there was nothing that put me off from interviewing you. In fact, you seem very genuine and all that you seem online and in person. A rare quality,” he said with a smile, almost impressed.
“Well, thank you, Mr. Barnes.”
“Would you like to meet Tara? I feel that you would be a good fit, but she gets the last word. If you two get along, I think we can proceed with the proper paperwork,” he declared, standing on the last word as he button his suit jacket over his muscular torso.
You tore your eyes away from him reluctantly and stood as well. “I would love to.”
Now:
I am not attracted to my employer. I am not attracted to my employer. I am not attracted to my employer. You continued your daily mantra as you turned onto the street where the Barnes’ house resided and parked out front. This job turned out to be a godsend. You truly enjoyed your time with little Tara, the money was good, and Mr. Barnes was a great boss. You really really didn’t want to screw it up with feelings. 
It was just a crush and you needed to get over it. Besides, you knew that your lonely heart had less to do with your boss and more to do with what was happening elsewhere this evening. You took one last glance at the discarded invitation still resting on the passenger’s seat before taking a deep breath, exiting your car and bundling your scarf closer around you. The air was frigid as you walked up the step and knocked.
The door swung open to reveal Mr. Barnes wearing sweats and a t-shirt, looking possibly even more handsome than in his usual suit and tie. “Y/N.”
“Hi, Mr. Barnes. I, um…am I still working tonight? I though you had a dinner to get to…” you spoke, suddenly confused.
“Did you not get my message? Change of plans.”
Fishing your phone out of your coat pocket, you saw that you’d left it on airplane mode to help it charge faster. Switching service back on, you saw the string of texts appear on the screen. “Oh. No, I didn’t.”
“Here, come in out of the cold,” he offered, opening the door wider and you stepped inside. “Yes, I was supposed to have dinner with a client, but it fell through and Tara is with her grandparents tonight, so you have the evening off.”
“Damn,” you replied as your face fell.
“I thought you’d be pleased to have a Friday night off. Everything alright?” he asked with concern.
“It’s nothing. I’ll leave you to your free evening, sorry for interrupting,” you said, heading for the door.
“No, please, Y/N. Something is clearly wrong. Is there anything I can do?” he offered as you turned back toward him.
“It’s silly, really,” you began. “I was supposed to go to a wedding reception tonight but I was using work as an excuse and now technically I could still go, but I don’t have a date and I really don’t want to go, especially alone,” you blurted out quickly.
“I see,” he replied, stuffing hand in his sweatpants pockets. “Who’s getting married?”
“My ex. To the girl he cheated on me with,” you admitted, dropping your head in your hands.
“Seriously? He sent you an invitation? Why would he do that?” he asked, stunned.
“Because he’s a dick,” you blurted again, then clapping a hand over your mouth. “I’m sorry, I…”
But Mr. Barnes just burst out in laughter, his handsome face brightening the whole room. You tried not to feel that flame in your chest, but there it was.
“I really don’t want to ruin your evening with my drama, so I’ll just stay home and…”
“I’ll go with you,” he interrupted.
You stood there, mouth open before your brain caught up. “What?”
“As your date. I’ll go with you,” Mr. Barnes shrugged as if it was nothing.
“Oh, no, you really don’t have to do that. It’s way too much to ask.”
“You didn’t ask, I’m offering,” he stated. “All I had planned was me, myself, and Netflix so honestly, I don’t mind. Besides, you’ve been so amazing throughout this transition with Tara. I’d love to return the favor.”
“Um. Okay,” you answered, feeling grateful and suddenly nervous. Mr. Barnes had always been very respectful and professional, so although you appreciated his offer as your date, it would definitely shift things between you. “One thing, though. Could you…not be my boss tonight? What I mean is, could we not mention that I work for you? Just, I don’t know…pretend to be my boyfriend or something? I know it’s a lot, but…”
“No, it’s fine. I understand the circumstances and you are welcome to use me however you would like,” he said, then realizing how that phrase could be misconstrued as you both chuckled nervously. “I just meant that I’d be happy to be your date in any capacity.”
“Great,” you smiled. “I can drive. It’s about 40 minutes north.”
“That’s perfect because I told Tara’s grandparents that they could borrow my car with the carseat since I thought I would be staying home. So, do you want to go change and come pick me up in about and hour?” he proposed.
“Sounds like a plan,” you replied before heading back out into the cold. “Thank you again, Mr. Barnes.”
“It’s honestly my pleasure. And please, call me Bucky.”
____________
You rang the doorbell right on time and the door swung open, now revealing the handsome brunet in a perfectly tailored dark grey suit with a white shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a tanned collar bone and a few chest hairs.
“Y/N, come on in,” he said with a wide smile.
You stepped inside, a few flutters beginning in your stomach. Although you knew it wasn’t a real date, the nerves felt very similar.
“Could I see your dress?” he asked, throwing you off guard.
“What?”
“I thought I could coordinate my tie with your dress. We don’t want to clash, do we?” he teased with a wink.
You felt the heat in your face as you unbuttoned your long wool coat and revealed the deep maroon dress that hugged you in just the right places. You chose it specifically because of the confidence it always gave you, which you needed especially tonight.
“Wow. You look stunning, Y/N,” he spoke earnestly, meeting your eye. “I think I know just the tie. I’ll be right back.”
He lightly jogged up the stairs to the right of the foyer as you tried not to notice the way his suit pants hugged his shapely behind just right. And failed.
Ten minutes later, you were entering the freeway with Bucky in the passenger seat as a few snowflakes landed on your windshield. There was light conversation about what music to listen to and you also gave him a rundown on who will mostly likely be there with information he may need to know about you. You also got your story straight about how you met and how long you had been dating.
“May I ask you something,Y/N?”
“Of course, anything,” you replied, keeping your eyes on the road as the snow began to fall more heavily.
“Were you truly unable to find a date for tonight? I find that difficult to believe. You’re a beautiful, kind, intelligent woman and anyone would be lucky to have you,” he said plainly as you felt his eyes on you.
Feeling the heat in your face again, you chanced a look his way before speaking. “Do you really mean that?”
“Absolutely,” he said without hesitation.
“Well, thank you, first of all Mr. Bar…Bucky. And I don’t know, I just haven’t really found anyone who I’m comfortable enough with to bring to an already uncomfortable situation. Honestly, I don’t know many guys my age who could handle just going to a wedding without freaking out. Why is it that so many guys think attending a wedding makes every girl itching for a ring on their finger? I mean, I think about it sometimes, but I have other goals and anyway, what makes them think I would choose them? It’s ridiculous.”
“Because they’re guys, not men.”
You grinned at that. “Have you seen the movie “Say Anything?” “
He smiled back. “Yes. That’s exactly what I meant. ‘Don’t be a guy, the world is full of guys…’ “
“ ‘…be a man.’ “ you both finished the famous quote together as he held your gaze. A little too long, it would seem because when you fixed your gaze back on the road there were a pair of headlights directly ahead.
You screamed and braked, turning the wheel hard to the right as you barely missed the other car but it sent your vehicle into a snow embankment on the side of the road where you came to a stop. Breathing hard, you felt the adrenaline pulsing in your body. As your heart rate slowed, you released your grip on the wheel and noticed Bucky’s hand on your stomach, as if to hold you back from impact. His other hand was on the dashboard as his wide eyes met yours, letting you both calm down from your scare.
He spoke first. “Are you alright?”
You nodded, “I think so. Are you?”
“Yes, I’m fine,” he replied as he removed his hand from you, the spot suddenly feeling cold without his touch. “Sorry.”
“No, I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking and I could have killed us both for a stupid wedding and I dragged you into it, this is all my fault, I…”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he interrupted your frantic rant and got your attention by placing a hand on either side of your face so you would meet his eye. “It wasn’t your fault, they drifted into our lane. We’re both fine, it’s okay. Just breathe.”
You followed his direction, focusing on the rise and fall of your chest to mirror his.  
“Better?”
You nodded, again feeling the loss of heat as he removed his hands.
“I’m going to assess the damage and see if I can push us out. Just stay in the car, okay?”
Another nod, which seemed to be all you could manage at the moment. He was only gone a few minutes and when he returned, the snow had collected in his hair like a halo, his cheeks tinted pink from the cold.
“We’re pretty stuck. I’ll call for a tow truck but they might have to wait until the roads are clear,” he said while reaching for his phone. After completing the call, he let out a sigh and turned your way. “We’ll have to keep warm while we wait and I wouldn’t advise keeping the engine on. Do you have any blankets? Water? Food? We don’t know how long it will take.”
“Yes. I have all of that in my trunk, I can grab them. “
“No, let me. You in those heels in the snow is just an accident waiting to happen,” he said with a smile, leaving shortly again.
While he was gone, you considered your situation. Truthfully, if you were going to be stuck here with anyone, you were grateful it was him. Kicking off your uncomfortable heels, you tucked your feet under the hem of your coat. Bucky returned with arms full as he shivered from the cold.
“I only found one blanket and the water is frozen, but I think the granola bars will help for a while and the water will melt hopefully,” he said.
“Only one blanket? I swear I had more…oh, right. I think I took one out to build a blanket fort with Tara. It must be at your home,” you smiled sheepishly.
“You know, I do have blankets,” he stated.
“Yeah, I figured, but I didn’t know if you’d mind my snooping around to find them,” you shrugged.
“I don’t mind,” he replied firmly, holding your gaze once again. “Well, it looks like we are sharing and body heat helps most, so…”
You watched in awe as he turned his body and crawled over the middle consul between the front seats and slid into the back seat. He gestured for you to follow.
“Come on. I don’t bite,” he said with a sly grin.
So you followed, trying to climb/crawl/slide in your dress into the back seat. He grasped your hips and helped once the top half of your body was free. You landed beside him, feeling his arms around you with faces inches apart. Reluctantly, you pulled away and adjusted in your seat, pulling your coat tight around you. He placed the blanket on you both of your laps and tucked it around you, making sure you both had gloves to wear.
Once you were comfortable, you asked, “Can I as you a question now?”
“You may.”
“How could she possibly let you go?”
“Tara’s mother?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Well, we met in college and got married while I was still in law school. We didn’t talk much about having kids, but when she got pregnant, she seemed excited. I know I was. I always wanted kids and thought she did, too. I guess I shouldn’t have assumed because after Tara was born, it seemed like she didn’t have the strongest maternal instincts. I figured it came from her mom, who wasn’t the warmest person, but a while after Tara’s first birthday, she told me she wasn’t meant to be a mom. It broke my heart, but mostly for Tara’s sake. If she had told me at any point beforehand that she didn’t want a baby, I would have respected her decision. In the end, she didn’t just leave, I let her go. It was best for all three of us and now it’s just me and the little tyke. And you. I’m so glad Tara has you.”
Tears had filled your eyes as you heard his story, amazed at this wonderful man and father who truly had transcended from the title of “guy”. You now understood. It wasn’t about him being married or having children. It was about taking responsibility and sacrificing for the greater good.
“She’s an idiot,” you said, with a teary smile.
“So is he,” he replied, tilting his head to the road ahead in the direction of the wedding reception you had completely forgotten about by now.
The moment crackled with the electricity between you, neither letting their gaze waiver. Bucky inched closer and then paused for you to meet him the rest of the way, your lips pressed against his. He shifted in his seat to face you and you did the same, sliding a gloved hand to the back of his neck pulling him closer. Suddenly the cold didn’t bother you so much as you both shed a few layers. You found yourself lying on the bench seat with Bucky above you, pulling away to met your eyes as he paused his movement.
“Is this truly what you want?” he asked, lips swollen from your kisses and hair tousled from your fingers lost in it.
“Only if you do,” you said breathlessly.
He just smiled, brushing a thumb across your cheekbone as he lowered his lips down to meet yours.
Hours later:
A knocking on the window startled you both from sleep. Sitting up, Bucky wiped away condensation from the inside of the window to see the tow truck man had arrived. You looked around to see the storm had ended and the road cleared. You both had slept tangled in each other with a pile of clothing, blankets, and coats to keep you warm along with your shared body heat. Bucky lowered the window and spoke to the man.
“Hello. Thank you for coming. We’ll be out in a moment,” Bucky said as he buttoned his shirt.
“I was just hoping you two would survive the night, but I guess you found a way to keep warm, eh?” he asked with a wink, heat rising in your face as you pulled the strap of your dress back onto your shoulder.
Bucky raised the window and turned toward you. The moment could have been awkward, but you only saw adoration in his eyes which you hoped he could also see in yours. He pulled you in for a tender, chaste kiss before helping you find all of your clothing. Once dressed, Bucky grasped your hand in his and pressed it to his lips.
“Thank you for the invite, I enjoyed the wedding reception,” he joked with a grin.
You laughed in return. “Thank you for coming with me. Best reception I’ve ever not attended.”
He climbed out first and then came around to your door to help you out as you walked arm in arm into the winter wonderland.
____________________________________________________
AAAHHH!!! So that was fun. :D I hope you enjoyed it!! It was nice to take a little break from LTT. Focus is really hard sometimes! But in case you were wondering, Part 4 of Leave this Town will be up tomorrow at 3pm EST as planned. :) Love you guys! Any feedback is appreciated!! <3
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livingwithashipname-blog · 7 years ago
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Ermanda’s Inner Sanctum: Scorpion 4.01 “Extinction”
Scorpion is back!!!  This new season feels like a reset in many ways, simply adjusted to accommodate what is different from 3 years ago.  The idea is also suggested with comments from Collins on Walter’s behavioral changes.  Thus, it’s a way of seeing the show’s core message once again!  Thanks to the showrunners and writers for creating a musical number that was highly requested by the fans!  Everything IS absolutely genius! 😉  That musical number was hilarious! 😂  We got to see 4 additional locations besides the garage and the mission's locale in this episode.  I hope this is the start of seeing more places on the show besides the garage since everything usually starts and end there scene-wise!  Overall, this episode was fun and exciting!  Collins is the guy we all love to hate and it is nice to see him back because we all know craziness ensues whenever he’s around.  We also catch more glimpses of relationships between individual team members with which we are familiar (e.g., Sly and Happy).  I also anticipate a lot of interactions between Waige and Quintis this season that will make us laugh!  So much stuff has gone down and it’s only the first segment of this extinction event!  Whew!  Let’s get to it, shall we?! 😉  I’ll start with Collins!
Mark Collins
Things on my Collins BS meter
Collins (to Happy): Happy, I have emotionally prepared for your response. Me: Psychopathic genius, say what now?! 👀
Calling his murder attempt on Toby an adventure regardless of his intent
Throwing shade at Walter's interest in Paige
That transistor radio... Collins has a special relationship with radios.  He knows how to manipulate them well.  He utilized them when he kidnapped Toby.  The fact that he is using one for the mission has me concerned even though it serves a very specific & necessary purpose.
"Accidentally" bumping Toby into a freezing lake when he is trying to get Walter's attention
Taking Toby's wet jacket and positioning it next to him
Getting stuck in the SUV speeding into a chasm
We all know Mark Collins is a sociopath.  Yet, this new and improved Collins with improving EQ is another glimpse of one of the show's core messages that we have seen consistently highlighted through Team Scorpion - everyone seeks acceptance and trust from relatable figures.  It's just simply hard to believe that he has changed after extensive psychological treatment and prison solitary.  I partially agree with that.  Allow me to explain. 😉
Collins pre-attempted murder lockup would approach any action against Scorpion in vengeance because he felt betrayed by Walter and replaced by Paige.  Collins 2.0 is a little more stoic, showing a desire to be connected to Scorpion and the team's new dynamic.  The emotion is similar to Walter's moment of vulnerability in 2.15 Da Bomb when he revealed his fear to Linda that he may not be capable of establishing the romantic connections shared between his sister, Megan, and Sly and Toby and Happy.  So it is not surprising that Collins congratulates Walter on his coupling with Paige.  He knows the challenge present in a romance between an emotionally stunted genius and a normal with emotional intelligence.  Hence, this is why his mild disrespect towards Paige when he meets up with the team is questionable when he spoke so positively about Waige to Walter in his prison cell.  His eagerness to reconnect is also present each time he expresses his thanks to work with he team again as if he is one of them.  However, Collins only grows more suspect as time passes.  I mean, I wouldn't expect anything less! 
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His interactions with everyone so far suggest that he is trying to find a behavioral moment of leverage to exploit so they don't immediately notice inconspicuous moments where it seems like he is planning some type of escape.  For example, Toby notices Collins' truthfulness in the van after his rescue, but doesn't notice or question why Collins would ask for his wet jacket.  Yet, he acknowledges the fact that Collins has the ability to fool him.  While he is cautious, he is aware that he might miss something with him.  Collins also seems to crack Cabe and Paige a little when he needs rescue and when he brings up the challenges of her relationship with Walter, respectively.  Sly is in an emotionally vulnerable state as well, so he might become Collins' next target unless "older siblings" Happy and Toby get to him first.  So we all need to keep our eyes on Collins because he is too inquisitive and cunning to simply want to change for the better without some ulterior motive for his benefit.  But I have to say that I love the truths in his observations he shares with Waige.  Whether it is a mind game or not, I am happy he seems so eager for Waige to work.  It really makes the story exciting and compelling given how familiar we are with this character.  We shall see how this goes down in the next episode!
Sly
Sly's story this season is going to be really good because his actions in this episode indicate that he will experience tremendous growth!  He is saddened by the fact that his obituary never recorded his marriage to Megan, which was one of the bravest things he has ever done.  He highly values his relationship with her!  Kudos to the writers for utilizing Melvester as a motivator for Sly's character development.  (Maybe we’ll finally hear about those naming rights or the hospital’s pediatric ward?! 👀  Okay, okay, I’ll stop being petty! 😂😂😂)  
I am really excited!  He will continue to be the anxious germaphobe we have all grown to love.  Yet, he will be more determined than ever to establish himself in more ways that exudes confidence that it naturally becomes a new facet of his personality.  Therefore, Sly's perception will shift from Scorpion's youngest adult member to a full-fledged adult who has a wealth of life experience for someone his age in comparison to the other team members.
Quintis 
Quintis is married and it definitely shows!  Leave it to Toby to create a marriage creed - PANNS - and mention it 10 million times when it is supported or violated. 😂😂😂😂😂💀💀  He's such a lovable dork!
P - Put your partner first A - Always strive for a positive state of mind N - No disparaging of ideas N - No lying S - SCABOBI "Steady Calm Attitude Brings Optimal Bliss Inherently"
Throughout the episode, we continue to see more of their dynamic shift from last season where Happy expresses more concern in her own way.  Anyone also notice Happy's wardrobe change for this episode?  It is definitely different from last season.  This is the first time we have seen her wear a slim tee in over a year!  Hmm... I wonder what this means.  I will wait until episode 3 or 4 to have a minimum representative sample of reference points before I delve into what I think this represents for Quintis' or Happy's story for season 4A.  
Waige
Just like Quintis, Waige has experienced a dynamic shift where Walter has more faith in the overall success of his relationship with Paige than she does.  This lingering semblance of doubt is a result of their history together and is seen in their interactions during the mission.  Paige feels alienated when Walter does not consult her as a team member for choosing to work with Collins.  Paige hopes that their new relationship status results in more mutual discussions about the team because Walter is eager to cultivate his relationship with her in every way.  However, Walter's logic is correct in this manner.  He has always made the final decisions regarding Scorpion.  Paige is not wrong for being hopeful, but she must address her concern/feelings with Walter better.  Thus, this early interaction is another way of portraying the differences in their mannerisms, their approaches to various situations that require them to work together, and how they navigate their romance as coworkers.  We see the last when Paige approaches Walter to assist with a new task.  Walter recognizes her somber emotional state and communicates a plan of action for their relationship.  Ah!  Look at Walter being so EQ!!!  Eek! 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾  This new part of their journey will give rise to contention and resolution.  I am excited to see how it all plays out!  I anticipate this will involve Walter learning more about the emotional tasks of a romantic relationship and Paige figuring out where she can go emotionally and where she must compromise while Walter “catches up.” 
Drabbles...
Omgness that musical number is absolutely genius! 😉😂😂  Funny, funny stuff!
Look 👀 it's Ari's body double playing one of Sly's buddies from the Warlock's Chest!  I love when the show inserts behind-the-scenes cast and crew for small cameos!
Poor Sly!  Everyone replaced him since they thought he was dead.  And that obituary was certainly demoralizing. 😢😢
So Ralph is just going to be seen for 2 mins and that's it?!  Lamesauce! 😒😒
Quintis Honeymoon 2.0 in Santa Barbara sounds exciting since they plan to get all kinky with costumes!  Geez I love my ship!  And then Collins comes through to ruin it all... 😒😒😒
Hello Collins!  So who is buying this "brand new me" behavior from him?  Not me 🙅🏾 but I can't deny the man's insane brilliance, which is what snakes Walter to him every time he shows up, calls, kidnaps... 😳  Here we go again 👀
Cabe is not playing any games with Collins after he tried to kill Toby!  
We have a new Homeland Security director!  I have a feeling we will be seeing more of him this season because anything involving Collins, hell anything on Scorpion, becomes bigger than once imagined!  And I am loving this setup for the LA office of Homeland!  So fresh, so clean!
Happy: What if Collins goes after Toby again?  Toby (to Sly): See how she cares about me?  H: We haven't move in fully yet and I'm not doing the rest myself.  Toby: Huh?! 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀💀. Oh the love! 😍😍😍
The way Toby behaves when Collins is in his personal space... can you say PTSD?! *wink wink* @scribeshan​
Anybody think "gooty" will become as popular as Toby thinks?  Or his whole word lexicon project for that matter?  I sense hilarious word play from Toby this season that will make me roll my eyes, shake my head, and die of laughter!
Squabbles amongst geniuses are hilarious!  And Cabe's face... 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂💀   
Jadyn's hair looks AMAZING when the team is in the garage! 😍😍😍
Collins is running away again?!  He is testing my patience! 😂
Definitely on the lookout for Waige and Quintis interactions and interruptions!  In this episode, Walter interrupts Quintis' convo at the start of the mission.  Happy returns the favor to Waige later. 😂😂😂😂😂😂  Too funny!
This moment between Sly and Happy absolutely melts my ❤️!!! 💗💗💗💗 Faux siblings ftw!!! 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾  RIP Megan O'Brien Dodd 😢😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️💑
Happy makes her second joke of the day which prompts her to discover that something is very wrong!  I love this! 😂😂😂😂👍🏾👍🏾
Sly lost his wedding ring!  Now we have an answer as to how he manages to keep it intact after all this time!  Where are my tissues?! 😭😭😭😭😭
Oh lordt.  Collins has endangered Toby AGAIN! 😒😒😒
Hysterical bride?!  Umm, someone inform Walter that Happy is far from hysterical. *facepalm*  And does anyone else find this comment a weird contributor to disharmony between Walter and Paige?  I would think the comment would turn into an opportunity to explain to Walter that Happy’s comments were understandable given the current series of events, but she still remained calm and focused on rescue from methane poisoning.  Interesting… a missed opp, perhaps?!
Happy (to Collins): (whispers) I'm not buying this "new you" bit.  Collins: God, she's terrifying.  That look from Happy... *snaps fingers* YAAAAASSS!!! 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾  After all this time, Collins is still afraid of her! 😂😂😂😂😂
Anyone notice that Toby and Happy's positioning changes in the middle of their hug in the shot.  Her head is on one side, then magically shifts to the other side.  We never see that shift take place to explain that change.  Whoops! 😱😱😱
I love how Toby nominates Cabe to drive the van into the crevasse and Happy supports that decision! 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂
Love how everyone has a special message of support for Cabe! 😍😍😍😍 They have nothing for Collins though... 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂  And Collins feels defeated by the rejection... Aww!
This is a great switch to have Collins save Toby, then have Toby state that they have to save Collins when he is in danger! 😉👍🏾👍🏾👏🏾👏🏾
Toby is on the case of Mark Collins!  👀🔎😉  Heck, we all are! 😂
Paige: So he talked to you too, huh?  Walter: He did. But he predicted an extinction event for Earth and we stopped it, so perhaps we can stop our own extinction event.  P: Perhaps. Perhaps, we're too inherently different. (pause) I'm not saying he's right. I'm just... I'm saying he is one of the 6 smartest people alive; he could have a point. Or maybe he's just being a jerk and messing with... I don't know.  W: Well, I'm one of the 5 smartest people in the world and I do know, not to repeat myself, but if we can stop tons of methane in its tracks then we can make this work.  P: You really feel that way?  W: The truth is I feel like... (breaks into song) 😍😍😍😍😍😂😂😂😂😂 Love this!
For 2.5 years, Happy Quinn was the sole owner of the phrase, "not good," which is uttered in EVERY episode.  Now, the phrase is said by other members of Scorpion.  The way Walter sings the phrase at the end... 😂😂😂😂😂😂😂  I love these bits!
Looks like these winter jackets the producers went over budget to acquire have actually held up their value over time!  Woot woot!  Recycling ftw! 🙌🏾🙌🏾🙌🏾
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mamaduck82 · 5 years ago
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Writer’s Block - Chapter 3
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Alex made her way back to her SUV much quicker than her original arrival pace. She peeled out of the lot, the sounds of her tires crunching the gravel as she made her way, according to the half-ass attempt at drawn directions, to Cabin 11.
After a brief drive consisting of only two wrong turns, she turned left into the small gravel parking spot and turned off the car. She looked at the scene in front of her. It was the same cabin
 in front of the lake that she had seen on the website, however, it looked quite a bit more run down without the full light of day brightening up its weathered front. The warm natural oak siding was dulled by the sweltering Georgia sun, the patches of grass that grew from beneath the rocky ground under her feet, nearly reached her ankles. The original fire pit that once was an intricately stacked circle of gray and brown rocks, was now merely a rusted old ring that housed a mound of ashes and other inflammable debris, surrounded by the scattered remains of the original structure. Four wooden Adirondack chairs, stained and faded the same as the cabin, surrounded the fire pit and there was a picnic table just a short walk to the right of the cabin. She looked at the lake in front of her and was glad to see, in the setting sun, that it did in fact provide an awe-inspiring backdrop for the perfect sunset selfie. The bright colors of day were fading fast into a soft periwinkle amidst the rolling green hills that rose and fell beyond the horizon, as she glanced down at her watch. 6:03PM. She pulled out her small packed bag and slung it over her shoulder while grabbing the bottle of whiskey from the not so funny man she had just checked in with and became bound as acquaintances by their mutual love of bomb building.
She pulled the cabin key from her pocket and stuck it into the lock. Flicking her wrist to the left, she noticed the key didn’t really turn much from its starting position. She unsuccessfully jiggled it back and forth, right to left, to see if it would loosen the inner mechanisms of the lock to no avail. She let out an over-exaggerated groan twisting the knob back and forth quickly as if that springs would automatically release and allow the door to open if she tried hard enough.
“Cabin 11’s a real bitch,” an unfamiliar, raspy voice called loudly from behind her and the assault on the doorknob ceased immediately. Her heart leapt into her throat as she pressed her back in fear against the unmoving door, still clutching the doorknob as if by holding it tightly enough, she could make the intruder to her solitude disappear.
A man who looked to be much older than Daryl, with neatly trimmed, dirty blonde hair stood next to an beat up, matte gray, older model pickup truck that was parked next to her car. She could see the tips of logs protruding from behind the gray metal and breathed a sigh of relief as she remembered this was Daryl’s family business. Her breath caught in her throat once again as her eyes studied the sexy features of the man as he began to approach her slowly, leaving the pile of chopped logs behind in the truck. Maybe this was Daryl’s father? The man in front of her had a hard, unshaven face, deep age lines around his eyes and mouth, and the chiseled yet scarred arms that poked through his slightly white wife beater told a tale of a tough life.
“I can show you how to get inside nice and quick if you want,” his voice drawled out, causing a bout shivers to run through her body with his seductive suggestion. His smile unwavering, his eye contact remaining unbroken; his message of intentional intimidation coming through loud and clear. He spit off to the side.
“Hey,” she whispered before clearing her throat, a shy smile spreading across her face as she forced more air into her lungs so to speak in a normal tone. “You must be Daryl’s father. I really appreciate-“
“The fuck you just say to me, girl?” the man spat again, this time angrily, his approach to her ceasing and his already hard body seemed to tighten up more. His blue orbs changed from angelic to murderous in an instant.
“Oh,” she gulped, her skin ablaze with the burgundy color of shame. “I’m sorry. You look just like the guy at the-“
“Daryl’s my brother,” he snapped, breaking his harsh eye contact to slowly take in the full sight of her body. “Do you really think a good lookin man like me could father a lil’ pussy like Darylina?”
She giggled nervously, quickly silencing herself as the man began his slow approach to her once again. She felt the burning sensation that flushed her cheeks spread down her chest and moved inward, causing a tightening in her belly and lady parts.
“I’m really so sorry,” she tried again, her humiliation more than noticeable from the sound of her cracking voice.
“Save it, sweetheart,” he said, his blue eyes trailing down her body again slowly as he was now within arm’s reach of her. He was definitely not as old as she originally pegged him to be from across the yard. The knot in her throat refused to let her swallow, much less allow her airways to take in a full breath, as he put his hand over hers that was still frozen to the seemingly welded locked doorknob. He leaned his body within inches of her, causing a chain of fireworks to explode within from her chest down to her dampening pussy. She could smell the manly, musty scent of hard work, leather, and tobacco exuding off of him, his eyes sparkling mischievously. Her heart pounded so fiercely that she was afraid it would beat right out of her chest and knock him over if he came any closer.
He covered her hand with his, tightening both of their grips around the doorknob, bringing his right hand up and placing it just above her right shoulder. He was only a few inches taller than her 5’7 frame but she felt in that moment as though she were being towered over by a giant. She was trapped between this man’s hard, sexy body and the stubborn door that she no longer cared if it ever opened.
“You want me to show you how to do it right, sweetheart?” his raspy voice coming out as almost a threatening whisper from his soft lips that were now less than a ruler’s length away from hers. Lust, desire, and a kindling spark of inspiration swept through her body in such an electrifying way that she couldn’t think about anything except the fact that she wanted this stranger to fuck her right up against the door. She fought her urge to move her eyes down his body, to see if he was getting as hard as she was wet. She nodded quickly and abruptly stopped, afraid she’d give herself whiplash because of the apparent loss of control over her neck muscles.
Within an instant, much too quickly for her liking, he lifted his right knee up beside hers against the door and with the full weight of his body, he pressed up his lower half against her, his hardness pressing firmly against her hip. The door flung open inwards, causing her to lose her balance and splatter backwards onto the hard wooden floor. That instant, nothing made sense. One minute she was being pressed up against her cabin door, wanting nothing more than for the blue eyed stranger to fuck her senseless, and the next, she was watching the room around her rise as she fell onto her ass still clutching her bottle of whiskey to her chest just as tightly as she had been doing to the doorknob. She sat up, almost panting and tried to gain control over her lungs enough to properly take a full breath of air. He took a step forward so that he was standing above her, a sly smile creeping across his face. “Do I need to show ya again how it’s done?”
His words didn’t register in her brain at first, nor did movement come back to her body while she looked up at him. She wanted nothing more than to forget the rest of the world and fuck the hell out the fine piece of ass that was standing with that smartass grin in front of her. But her body did not comply with her erotic thoughts. She sat there frozen as he held his hand out to her. She looked in confusion at the foreign appendage he extended towards her as if he were an alien from outer space trying to whisk her away onto his spaceship.
“I ain’t got all day, girlie,” the man’s voice registered impatience but his eyes burned something more deep and sultry causing her stomach to flip flop as his words began to make sense again. She felt the blood rushing back into her extremities as she took his hand in hers and feeling the warm, long, thick digits curl around her palm. He lifted her off the ground in one quick swoop, stopping her before she slammed back into his body. If she pressed up against him again, she was almost positive that her body would just burst into flames.
“T-thanks, Mr. Dixon,” she stammered out as he let go of her hand, the loss of his warmth staggering.
“Merle,” he smiled licking his lips, his eyes once again trailing over her body. “Might want to remember that for later.”
“Oh, I don’t think-“
“Don’t think, sugar,” he cooed at her, his Georgian twang noticeably thicker than his brother’s. “’Cause I already know what’s comin’. No woman in Cabin 11 ever gets through the night without callin’ out ol’ Merle’s name one way or another.”
Her knees went from slightly wobbly to full out jelly as she grabbed blindly behind her for the nearest firm surface to keep her upright. This man was causing the beginning flashes of an orgasm to flow through her simply by speaking. He backed away, checking her out before heading back to his truck, his perfect ass, hugged tightly by his tan bootleg jeans capturing of all her attention.
Alex stood there dumbfounded as she watched the man hop in the back of his truck and toss log after log into the yard between the front steps of the cabin and the large fire ring that sat mere feet from the edge of the lake. He had barely made it to the tenth log when what was happening finally began to register in her mind.
“Are you going to bring some of that inside for me?” she asked, careful to avoid further insult to injury. The muscles in his arms flexed tightly with each toss over the side of the truck bed. He looked at her, his blue eyes intensely sparkling in the low light of the evening.
“You askin’ an ol’ man like me to put my wood inside, sugartits?”
Her mouth dropped open in utter shock at his words as the burning, clenching, tortuous body spasms ignited over every inch of her body, causing her toes to curl slightly. She didn’t dare make a movement or say another word until she regained at least some control over her unreliable body. He winked at her and because of her body’s promise to betray her, she felt a small, silent moan escape her lips.
“Speechless and stubborn,” he continued as he threw out the last of the logs into the pile with a huff of completion. “Just how I like ‘em.”
She closed her mouth, a feeling of irritability replacing some of the desire she felt. It was one thing to turn her on and embarrass the shit out of her but him calling her stubborn insinuated that she was just another stupid broad to him and that just rubbed her the wrong way. Just as the frustrated look appeared in her facial features, it softened and then disappeared. A small smile curled upon her lips. The blank page of her mind began filling with a dialogue that just seemed to write itself so well, that it needed to be shared right that very minute.
“I can take care of this on my own,” she said, her voice teasing, her eyes hooding slightly, as she smoothed out her shirt and straightened her posture. “I don’t need Father Time to break a hip trying get it in the way I want it.”
She watched as his amused blue eyes opened wide, his brows furling upwards, the skin of his cheeks reddening slightly. His hand moved over his mouth in an attempt to wipe the growing grin off his face and responded with a short tsk. This time, she let her confident eyes wander down his body, taking in the delicious sight of the growing bulge in the crotch area of those well fitted pants.
“See ya around then, girlie,” he nodded to her, jumping from the back of his truck onto the grass below and wiping his dirty hands down the sides of his pants. She tried to keep the disappointed look from creeping onto her face as he winked again at her before climbing into the cab of the truck. With a swift rev from the engine as he shifted the old pickup into gear, he pulled away, a grin still on his lips as his face faded from her view. She stared in the direction of where the truck disappeared over the horizon for a few moments before bringing her attention back to the logs that were strewn all over the yard. The deep croaks of the bullfrogs started bringing her other senses back into focus. The periwinkle sky now tinged with a deep navy as the sun disappeared further down behind the hills that rolled in all directions around her.
“What the fuck am I supposed to do with all this shit?” she asked aloud to the bullfrogs whose croaks and groans raised in volume in response to her voice. Then a deep smile spread over her face. She remembered the moment his body pressed into hers, his hardness briefly pressing into her hip. He was just as turned on as she was. This realization brought the fiery tremble deep within her back towards the surface as her cheeks flushed and she squeezed her thighs together, trying to quell the desire from within that begged to be unleashed.
But first, she had do something about the mess this handsome fellow unloaded all over her yard.
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frommountainstolonestars · 8 years ago
Text
An Open Letter to A7X
To Avenged Sevenfold:
Before I start this letter, let me just preface it with the fact that I have been having some hand/nerve issues and my writing may become disjointed because of that.
I first found out about y’all four—almost five—years ago. The reason I got into y’all is probably a little different than other fans. I’m an avid reader and one of the books I read said to understand the book better, the reader needed to look up the lyrics to “Dear God” by Avenged Sevenfold and then to listen to it. So, like a good reader, I did. I fell in love with that song and had to hear more from this band. (I thought y’all were country). The second song I heard was “Hail to the King” and the change in pace and tempo made me love the band even more. I bought that album (it had just come out) and started listening to all of your other songs. It took about six months for me to get through all the albums, but when I had, you had all awakened a part of me I didn’t know existed.
From my appreciation of your music, I started looking into other hard rock and heavy metal bands. Obviously, I knew who Metallica was, but I started digging into more of their stuff and even got into Judas Priest and Pantera, bands my parents hated and bands I thought I would never like.
When I got my resident assistant job, I was listening to “MIA” and that song became my lucky one. Unfortunately, some things in my life happened that might have torn down another person. It was y’all and other metal bands that helped me through.
You see, I’m a soon-to-be college graduate who has had a difficult six years, but the last two years of my life have been rougher than I ever expected them to be.
It all started in November 2015 when I got this terrible lower abdominal pain. I thought it was cramps or ovulation pain; the emergency room in Texas couldn’t find anything wrong with me. Flash forward to winter break, and I’ve had this pain for four weeks now. My wonderful mom got me into a surgeon, and I’d never been more nervous. I’d only had my wisdom teeth removed, so an actual surgery terrified me. They took me in and let me listen to a couple of songs (“Gunslinger” and “Strength of the World”) before I went under. It turned out I had two ruptured cysts and appendicitis. I easily could have gotten a terrible infection from either.
Time wears on, and I head back to my university (University of North Texas, go Mean Green!). I’m an athlete, have been for most of my life. I run/ran three times a week. My knee started to dislocate when I ran, but I could just pop it back in place. Eventually, it got to the point where running and even walking hurt too much. I waited until summer and returned home to see what the hell was wrong.
From all my years of soccer and running, and continuing to play soccer after a knee injury five years ago, I had torn the ligament that attaches my femur to my patella—the most rare knee surgery. A week before my knee surgery, my incredibly wonderful mother found out that my alcoholic father had stolen and gambled away $3,000 from their joint account. That same say, my father found out that his mother was dying. He flew out to San Antonio to deal with that situation. Mom started the process for divorce. Literally an hour before my knee surgery, I found out my grandmother had died.
When I woke up, I was in the worst pain of my life. My knee had to be immobile for four weeks before I could start physical therapy. I was up every four hours to take Percocet, which we later found out I’m allergic to. Having my leg (my dominate leg) taken away from me and not being able to do things for myself filled me with anger. A lot of what helped me through was y’all and bands similar to you. Post-knee surgery me was the worst, but your music helped me through.
Fast forward again, and I’m now back at school in my final year (Fall 2016) and my life was looking up. I found a publisher for my books, I would be turning 21 in November, and I’d get to see my favorite band with my best friend at Texas Mutiny.
Texas Mutiny was the most incredible concert of my life. I smuggled my DSLR camera in (don’t tell anyone) and captured some of the best photos of my life. That concert helped me figure out what I wanted to do with my photojournalism degree. And for my 21st birthday, my friends surprised me with a signed vinyl of The Stage and several of your CDs. It cheered me up because my birthday was on Election Day and very few people remembered it… which was understandable.
However, my life can’t always be sunshine and rainbows. Nine days before my birthday, I was rushed to the ER after puking up my guts. The ultrasound technician found five ovarian cysts. Three of them were the size of my uterus, and I needed immediate surgery. Because I’m a college student “immediate” meant my next time off. My Thanksgiving break was recovery and more of your music. My wonderful mom came down to Denton to help me through that surgery.
My 2016 winter break was spent writing and getting my older sister to listen to your songs. She really enjoys the white album and even some songs on The Stage. I also examined that album and just fell in love with basically every song. My cover for my book came in, and I got inspired to write a collection of short stories based on songs. My favorite bands are featured quite a bit… I hope that’s okay.
Now, I’m back at school again and my stomach pain comes back. Two months after surgery and the ovarian cysts were back. But something even worse happened at the end of January 2017. I’m a writer and a photographer who depends on her hands for work and stress relief.
At the end of January, my hands started to malfunction. They can’t fully flex of fist, they’re always cold, they get numb and tingling, my wrists and elbows hurt, and my joints are very stiff. My spring break was spent back in Reno getting tests done. They ruled out anything wrong with my central nervous system—thank god—but the pain still remains. And I was scared. I’m still scared actually. I have psoriatic arthritis and it’s incurable. Really the only things helping me are music, the Deathbat nation, my friends, and my mom. To make matters worse, my father had two heart attacks and two surgeries right before I came home. He only has maybe 2-5 years left. He’s an asshole, but I love him.
I know that was the longest intro ever, and y’all are probably wondering why I’m writing this at all at this point. My name is Carmen, and I’m a photojournalist (almost) and recently published author who just wants to thank you guys for everything you’ve done for me and the other fans. So here’s my long list of thank yous.
To all the guys: thank you for forming Avenged Sevenfold. Without you coming together, I wouldn’t have found a lot of my friends. Your music has gotten me through some of the most difficult situations in my life and your music has inspired my writing and made me a better person (the writing portion). There’s something about your music that just speaks to people and has made my life so much brighter. I can’t wait to see you and Metallica in June!
To Brooks: I know you haven’t been with the band long, but I’m glad you’re with them! I loved your drumming when you were with Tenacious D and Bad Religion. You definitely remind me of the dad friend out of all the guys, and I think it’s awesome to see what you add to the band. Your drumming on The Stage is also INSANE. I love what you did on “Angels.”
To Johnny Christ: I don’t think you’re a gnome for starters. You’re much taller than my short ass. All jokes aside, I love how you are on stage. You exude so much passion and energy; I wish I had gotten more photos at Texas Mutiny. You sing/shouting on “Nightmare” also adds a little depth to the song and never fails to put a smile on my face. Oh! Congrats on your son.
To Zacky V: I’m ambidextrous because I have to be from the hand issues, and I so rarely see left-handed musicians that every time I watch you play, it gives me hope. I’m not musically inclined at all, but knowing a lefty is out there brightens my day. You have such an awesome style and your skill with the guitar is out of this world. I hope we can get more solos from you.
To Synyster: dude, you are one of the best guitarists I’ve heard, excluding Santana. I could pick your style out so easily. The work you’ve done with A7X and Pinkly Smooth just blow me away. I can’t believe someone can have talent and skill like that. You are a guitar god, Mr. Haner.
To Shadows: as a writer, I most easily connect with words. Your lyrics speak to me on a spiritual level (which is probably why I have so many tatted on me). You have a way with words. And your voice is so unique and every time I hear “Dear God,” I remember why this band became my favorite. Just, thank you for doing what you do.
To the women of A7X (Val, Michelle, Lacey, Megan, etc.): thank you guys for being you. I hope you know how much love the Deathbat nation has for you. Without your support, the band probably wouldn’t be where they are (no offense guys).
To the fans: thank you guys! I have met so many amazing people through this band. Y’all have helped me through a lot, and I’ve met some good friends through it. Sevenfold has cultivated a fan base unlike any other, and I’d like to thank every Deathbat for who they are and for being so caring and for taking care of me.
So, I just want to say thank you from a fan who’s been through a lot and has made it through thanks, in part, to your music and the most supportive mother ever. The only thing I have to add is that my dream is to one day meet y’all and thank y’all in person. And this final part is going to sound so fucking cheesy, but I hope y’all sign my Deathbat and that the writer side of me gets to write your extended (not brief) biography.
Thanks again for all you have done.
 Sincerely,
Carmen
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