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thephantomofthe-internet · 5 years ago

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Read Into Me Chapter 3: The Scarlet Letter

Steve Harrington x Reader

CATCH UP ON THE SERIES HERE

Word Count: 4,420

Warnings: Bad grades, swearing, anxiety, bullying

Tag List: @divinity-deos @thecaptainsgingersnap @wolfish-willow @scoopsohboi @herre-gud-nej @clockworkballerina @maddie1504 @i-am-trash-so-much-its-scary @bajino-in-the-hole @buckysarge @wildcvltre @stanleyyelnatsiii @t0rmenta0 @10blurredsmoke10 @unusuallchildd @n3wtscaseofniffler5 @alwaysstressedout @peterparxour @linkispink1995 @asharpknife @a-big-ball-of-idk @used-avocado @mochminnie @sledgy14 @the-creative-lie

Steve arrived first to Mr. Lawrence’s homeroom, his paper shoved to the back of his notebook. He was happy to have the distraction of Vicki and Tina jabbering at him. He didn’t want to think about his paper. English wasn’t his best subject, but he could hide it from his peers when it was just the teacher and him going back and forth on essays, him writing and them marking. Now, somebody was going to know that he wasn’t good at this. Nancy knew, of course, and while she didn’t say it she always seemed a bit judgemental over his lack of essay writing skill. She was good at everything; it made him feel like he was in good hands when they were together, like they both had something to offer. Apart, it made him feel stupid and secondary, like he was awful at everything. Truth be told, he didn’t exactly know what he had even offered to that relationship, looking back he couldn’t understand why he thought he was worth anything in a relationship at all.

When he sat down, the desk next to him was empty. Steve wasn’t usually early to class, so he was a bit relieved to not see you there. Maybe he could avoid the eminent roasting of his work.

You got to school late. You were absolutely drenched from head to toe. You had walked to school that day, and a sudden rainstorm hit you halfway through, soaking you before you could make it to the building. To make it worse, you’d decided to wear white for the first time in forever. You rushed to your locker in the hopes to change and luckily you’d left a stained sweatshirt there from the previous semester. You’d pushed your wet hair up and away from your face and rubbed away the bits of black eyeliner that had flaked down you cheeks. You looked like shit and you knew it. It was turning into a less than successful morning. You hadn’t even had a chance to look in your locker mirror once you’d changed. You were already late enough for class and didn’t need the write up. You rushed to your English class.

Everyone turned their attention to the doorway when you opened it. You hurried to your desk, keeping your head down and ignoring as Vicki and Tina laughed. You heard Tina say “She looks like a drowned rat.” But you chose to pretend that you didn’t. You were freezing; Hawkins High turned off the heating system mid-March and left the school to stew in whatever weather the state was dealing with to save the county a few bucks a month.

Steve slid his paper onto your desk, keeping his eye on the front of the room as Mr. Lawrence took up attendance. He’d written on the board in chalk ‘how to peer edit’ in thick block letters. You weren’t exactly enthused by the topic, but you were glad to have the dull class to doodle instead of actually listening. You flipped the paper in front of you, looking over Steve’s chicken scratch without really taking in any of the information. You slid it into your trapper keeper, passing Steve your own typed copy of the assignment. You’d made sure to keep the original at home, edited just in case Steve didn’t give you any edits. You left in some mistakes so he could get a grade, but you didn’t want to have to rely solely on him.

You flipped open your sketchpad slowly, keeping your eye on Tracy Lords curly mess of hair piled high on the top of her head like Medusa’s snakes trapped in a golden laurel, or in this case a braided headband. You pulled your graphite pencil from the pink pencil bag you’d sewn in freshman year home-ec. You started with the shape, trying to capture the exact strangeness pile, making little tight curls in the centre of the oval and spiralling in all directions. You felt a pair of eyes on your neck and you turned to see Steve staring over your shoulder. You pulled yourself and the pad inward, trying not to blush. You didn’t like people looking at your art; you hardly showed your work to anyone, even Samantha. All of your drawings sat in their pads, which piled up as the years went by, untouched and forgotten. If Samantha wasn’t allowed to see the pictures of her, Steve Harrington was certainly not allowed a peak.

“Alright, today if you and your partner are ready to begin, we’ll start editing our papers. If you aren’t ready, that’s fine but today is the only day that we’re doing in class editing so I would spend today trying to finish up so you can at least pass your papers on.” Mr. Lawrence explained. You sighed, closing your pad and pulling Steve’s essay from your trapper keeper.

“Now, we want to look for not only spelling and grammar problems, but also sentences that don’t make sense and confusing details within the essay. It’s not about how many big words you can use, it’s if you can accurately and dynamically give your reader information.” Mr. Lawrence explained. He took to the board, writing key points for his marking, specifically to edit in pen and give a letter grade for the paper.

Tina’s hand shot up “You want us to grade the paper? Isn’t that your job?” she asked, smacking her gum violently. Vicki snickered into her palm, reddish brown hair away from her face.

Mr. Lawrence shook his head “No no, I’m not taking your grade on the papers into consideration for my grade, instead I want us to give each other grades to mark the progress of an essay, to give your partner an idea of what the paper might be worth. It’ll be up to them as to whether or not they are comfortable with the grade or if they want to improve.”

You didn’t like that. Who the hell wanted their classmate grading their paper? This was a recipe for disaster. You uncapped your red pen with your teeth, chewing on the lid nervously. You looked over the page. You had made up your mind that you’d be nice. You’d want Steve to be nice to you. It was the least you could do.

But it only took a few lines to understand that this was not a good paper. Spelling and grammar mistakes galore, run on, confusing sentences, no clear subject. It wasn’t even a good story, hell it wasn’t even an essay it came off more like a point form list. As you added more and more red ink to the black, white, and blue it started as. The paper started to become a Jackson Pollack more than a lame essay for an English class, it almost felt beautiful instead of shitty to destroy his essay. It was as though you were turning into art.

Out of curiosity, you looked over at your paper to see how it was fairing. Steve was, as expected, chatting up Vicki from across the aisle, and he’d made two corrections on your page, both small mistakes you’d left in. You rolled your eyes, a pit of annoyance making itself known in the centre of your stomach, as bitter as the cyanide in a peach pit. You made your last two corrects before scrawling a large ‘D’ at the top of the page and initialling next to it.

You flipped the paper over and pulled back out your sketchpad and brought it close to your chest, pulling your knee up to your chest and adding more curls to the back of Tracy Lords’ head, then focusing in on the braided headband until the bell rang. You flipped your pad closed and slid Steve’s essay back to him, quickly putting your stuff away.

“You mind if I take this home and give it to you tomorrow?” Steve asked, waving your essay in front of your face, nearly giving you a paper cut on the bridge of your nose.

You pushed the paper away, squinting up at him. “Yeah, whatever…” you replied, turning away from. You didn’t feel bad for giving him a bad grade now. He was still a dick head. “Don’t forget your paper.” You added, quickly making your way into the halls. You didn’t usually have the confidence to be snarky with anyone you didn’t trust, but something told you that you could handle Steve Harrington. Maybe it was just how awful his essay was, you felt like you could talk your way out of a fight.

Samantha grabbed your arm as you left the room, the pair of you thankful to have the same lunch period every other day. You hurried into the cafeteria. You knew well enough that she was on the prowl, eyes scanning the room for a certain figure.

“I think the band’s practising today, dude.” You said, taking an extra tray for Samantha and getting her serving of lumpy mashed potatoes and chicken surprise slopped on the plate. Samantha was looking for Robin Buckley, a junior on her soccer team who had drawn her attention as of late, and had been trying to get closer to her as of late, inviting her to join them for lunch every time she saw her and leaving you to third wheel.

“Yeah, probably.” She replied, taking the tray you held out for her and paid for her meal. “So, how’d talking sweet, sexy assignments with King Harrington?” Samantha crooned, batting her eyelashes up at you.

You rolled your eyes “Well, for one, we don’t talk period, and for another it’s fucking awful.” Taking your places at the table closest to the emergency exit, you settled into your routine of trying to choke down the awful cafeteria food. You grabbed your trays and had them filled with whatever horrific concoction the lunch ladies had come up with that day. You carried your grey and brown mushy mess to your table, a small four seater near the edge of the room, out of view from the popular assholes who liked the throw food.

“Oh? Is that what makes it awful? Not getting to enjoy the charming conversations he has to offer?” Samantha was trying hard not to laugh. Watching you squirm was hilarious.

“More like because I have to read his writing…” you replied. You jabbed your fork into what was supposed to be pot roast, but seemed to be ninety percent instant gravy and ten percent meat from an undetermined animal.

“Since when are you such a snob?” Samantha’s mouth was full of mashed potatoes, but the words rang clear.

“Since I spent my morning reading absolute dog shit about a vacation to Miami beach. It was pathetic! I mean, and I’m no critic, but if you’re going to write me an essay on your vacation, can you at least make it interesting?” you ranted. The more you talked about how awful it was the angrier you got about it. You spent so long on art and creating, you spent your time working hard and for someone to slide through life made your blood boil.

Steve didn’t usually spend his free time searching through the cafeteria for people, people usually found him. Tommy and Carol had already motioned him over, their new friend Billy already gone somewhere else, and Vicki and Tina had called for him to join them, but Steve had to handle something first. He didn’t really know what he was looking for, he wasn’t certain he’d find it in there, but there wasn’t any shame in searching. He would ask someone for directions, but it seemed that nobody knew or cared where you were at any time.

You gave him a ‘D’. A god damned ‘D’! He was flummoxed, he thought his essay was shit, he wouldn’t pretend that he didn’t, but he had expected you to be a bit kinder. That was like the unexpected rule of everyone in the class, to grade on the curve. But you went in hard. All he wanted was some answers.

He saw first a flash of pencil stained hands in the air, then the shine of your hair under the florescent lights. You were talking with your hands, making Samantha Cameron laugh hard. He’d never seen you that animated, it made him smile for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

He chuckled, coming up behind you in the hopes that your ease would stick around if he didn’t announce his presence. “You really gave me a D on my paper? What did I do to deserve that?” he asked.

Apparently, you really couldn’t smile when he was around. Both you and Samantha’s smiles dropped, your punky friend dropping her gaze as you were forced to turn around. “Oh…um…well I mean it…maybe I need to look it over again, I was probably being too harsh…” you stuttered, unable to keep yourself from burning up. You prayed that he hadn’t heard what you were saying. That would’ve been awful.

“Hey, it’s cool, the paper’s no good, it’s no big deal.” That was a lie of sorts, when Steve saw the big red ‘D’, his heart dropped. And he really didn’t believe that you were as innocent as you seemed. You seemed guilty over something.

“Well…I’m sorry anyway. I didn’t mean to bother you…” you apologized. You hoped he’d go away; you’d never been more uncomfortable around a person than Steve Harrington. You didn’t know why, but something about him made gave you more butterflies than other people did, he scared you for reasons you couldn’t quite understand.

“You didn’t bother me, don’t worry.” Steve chuckled awkwardly. You wouldn’t look him in the eye, it was throwing him off. “So, listen, I don’t want to fail this class,” he huffed out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck “Could you maybe help me rewrite this thing?”

You looked to Samantha, unsure if you could even speak words anymore, but she was smirking into her pot roast. Absolutely no help at all. You tried to smile “Um…sure, I can’t promise I’ll be much help though…” your voice was hoarse and unsure of itself. You hated that you’d said yes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to refuse. What if he got mad? Or yelled at you? You couldn’t handle being ridiculed or yelled at, you’d die.

Steve chuckled “Any help I can get is good enough. I can meet you in the library after school, okay?” he said, turning his gaze to Tommy’s hollering from across the cafeteria. He waved him over with both hands, like a sailor on a sinking ship, trying to beckon Steve back to where he belonged. Steve nodded, holding up his index finger, he only needed one minute.

“Sure, yeah that’ll work.” You said, fiddling with a thread hanging from the edge of your grey sweatshirt. You’d painted a little pink flower on the inside of the sleeve. When Steve saw it, he couldn’t help but smile at it; it looked so sweet and earnest.

“Alright, I’ll see you then.” He left after that, heading over to Tommy, who was frustrated beyond belief. He took his seat easily, stealing the pudding cup off of Carol’s tray wordlessly.

“What did that freak want?” Tommy asked loudly, his eyes blown wide. Carol was painting her nails, not even bothering to look up from her work. Tommy made no attempts to hide his dislike of you. He’d expected his best friend since the second grade to feel the same.

“She’s nice, we’re doing an assignment together.” Steve replied with a shrug, pulling the plastic covering off the cup, sticking the plastic spoon into the vanilla pudding.

Across the room, Samantha grabbed onto your hands with a giddy grin. “Look at my little girl! She’s got plans, with a boy!” she squealed, swinging your arms back and forth over the table.

“Jesus, can you please stop acting so straight? You’re gonna scare Robin off.” You yanked your hands away, watching with a grin as she turned her attention back to looking around the room excitedly. You let your eyes find Steve in the cafeteria, the buzz of fear filling your ears. You couldn’t believe that you agreed to meet him anywhere. You wanted to disappear.

You couldn’t focus on anything for the rest of the day. Your mind had gone into a feral sort of panic mode, pumping fear through your veins and turning your palms cold. When the final bell rang, it took all your strength and courage to not run all the way home. You knew that if you didn’t show, the problem wouldn’t go away. You’d just have to deal with the results of ditching the next day, and if not done now, then you’d have to deal with it another day. You clutched your books tight to your chest, sitting on the bench outside the library, trying to keep the butterflies from bursting out of your mouth. Your hands kept coming to your hair, trying to fix it or keep it away from your ears, maybe just to comfort yourself. It had dried weird and you worried that it looked ridiculous.

You saw his shoes come up to yours before you saw his face, royal blue Adidas with white and red details and dirty laces. You noted your own dirty white Converse, marked with mud and lyrics to songs that Samantha wrote on the toes. “Hey, you ready to do this?” Steve asked. You looked up and nodded, swallowing hard.

You wouldn’t make eye contact with him again. It was really starting to freak him out. He didn’t know what he did wrong, but it seemed like you really didn’t like him. Still, you’d agreed to help him and he wouldn’t take that for granted. He’d read your essay twice and it was good. He didn’t know much about good writing, but he knew that Mr. Lawrence would like it, that it would get a good grade. And he wanted decent grades too, so he could get into college and get his dad off his back.

The Hawkins High library was fairly quiet after school, most students headed back home or to after school clubs. Only a few stragglers remained, mostly using electric typewriters and returning books to poor Mrs. Mueller, who always kept the library open till four, waiting for her husband, the head of custodial staff, to finish his work. She smiled at you when you walked in. Mrs. Mueller was a nice woman who let you sit in the library during lunch and always checked in on you when you seemed alone. She was your favourite teacher, despite never having a class taught by her.

Steve chose a table in the dead centre of the room, dropping his blue bag on the wooden chair next to him and pulling out his papers. You carefully followed suite, folding your hands in your lap, unsure what to do with them. Steve smiled at you, sliding the essay towards you “So, what am I doing wrong?” he asked.

You narrowed your eyes, unsure where to begin. You picked up the paper, and then open your notebook, writing down everything the story seemed to be about. Steve watched you, utterly confused. Once you had every down, you set down your pen. “Okay,” you didn’t look up from your paper, sliding the essay to the middle of the table. “Tell me what your paper is about.”

“What? You read it, you should know.” Steve laughed awkwardly.

“Humour me.” You replied, looking up slowly to meet his eye. Steve’s smiled dropped, looking at you for a second. You broke eye contact first, but he wished he had been able to hold it for a moment longer.

“Okay, well,” he took a deep breath “I wrote about my family’s trip to our cottage on Miami Beach, and I talked about what I did. Nothing much.”

“Okay, because what you actually wrote isn’t really about that. What you told me is that you went to Miami Beach, your parents own a dirty beach house that was your grandparent’s house and that they’re both dead, that your grandfather fought in World War Two and that the medals were framed in the house, that you met a girl on the beach but she didn’t like you, and that the flight was long.” You explained. You still couldn’t believe that he’d fit all of that into a page of work.

“So?” Steve asked. That was all true of his last trip. Mind you, that was way back in middle school and the details were hazy.

“So, that’s a lot of information that I don’t care about. You can cut all of the stuff about your grandparents, which takes up like half of it. And when you cut that, all I know is that the beach house is in Miami Beach and you met a girl and the flight was long. That’s not bad, but I’d like to know a bit more about it.” You said, taking back the essay from the middle of the page and crossed out every line about his grandparents.

“What do I say instead then?” Steve asked, watching as you crossed out half his page, trying not to sound defeated. You were basically saying that he had to start all over again.

“Well, tell me about the beach? Pretend like I’ve never been. What’s there to do, what’d you like about it?” you shrugged. You found yourself feeling a tad bit calmer; the butterflies had calmed their intense flapping and had let you breathe.

Steve sighed “I don’t know, I’m just bullshitting.”

“What’d you mean?” you asked.

“I mean, I didn’t go on there, I haven’t been to our beach house since I was a kid.” Steve looked away. He was embarrassed to have been caught in a lie, even more knowing that now he’d have to rewrite his whole paper.

“Oh…what’d you actually do on your break?” you hadn’t expected him to be lying about anything, a snow bird spring break trip sounded about right for his family, they were always bragging about their money.

Steve chuckled “Oh no, nothing worth writing an essay on.” You looked up at him again. He seemed a bit sad. You pulled another sheet of paper from your trapper keeper, setting it overtop the last one.

“Tell me about it.” You smiled at him despite yourself. He was bit easier to talk to than you’d imagined.

Steve swallowed, nodding despite himself. “Well, I mean my parents went to the beach house and I tried to throw a party, you probably heard about how that went.” He rubbed at the back of his neck.

“No…” you shook your head. Steve wasn’t expecting that. Everyone had heard about the failed party, he’d gotten shit about it for weeks.

“Well, I couldn’t get any supplies, so I cancelled and hung out with Tommy and Carol instead. We got drunk in my backyard and Carol fell in the pool. She was so pissed. Then, I pretty much just hung about town, helped my buddy Dustin beat Dragon’s Lair at the arcade.” Steve didn’t really like admitting how lame his life was, he purposefully left out how Tommy and Carol only hung out with him when he went to pick up some weed from his older brother and they wanted a hit off it. Admitting that his life wasn’t that great made him feel small and like it was out of his control, which was not exactly a good feeling.

“Okay, tell me about the little party you had with Tommy and Carol. What was the night like? Was it fun? Did you jump in the pool too or did you watch her fall and laugh?” You had written down the few details in a bubble tree and added more details as he explained his time more thoroughly. You managed to get a bit more information on both events, learning more about his friend Dustin and the game they played.

When he was finished, you slid the page over to him. He took it, eyebrow raised in confusion, but you spoke before he could ask any questions. “This is your blue print. I wrote down everything you told me; now just turn it into an essay. The whole trick about these assignments is that you’re telling a story, and to make it interesting you have to give us details, and not about your grandparents or other things that don’t add to the story at hand, about what actually was happening.” You explained, checking the plastic watch on your wrist. It was almost four and Mrs. Mueller had already passed your table twice, her silent warning to leave. Everyone else who had been there had long left and you became very aware of how alone you were with him. The butterflies started their flapping again, churning tides in your stomach.

Steve smiled “Okay, I promise it’ll be interesting though.” He chuckled.

You shrugged “I promise that it’s more interesting than what you had before.” You shoved your papers into your bag, standing quickly “If you want me to look at it again before you hand it in, just bring it to me in class, alright? The library’s closing so I should go.”

“You want a ride home?” you spun around to look at him, crossing your arms over your paint splattered sweatshirt. The rain storm of the morning was long forgotten and you didn’t know what the weather looked like now. A part of you wanted to take the ride, but a much bigger part of you told you to run away.

You shook your head “No, um my friend Samantha said she’d drive me after her soccer practise, she’s probably waiting for me.” You lied straight through your teeth, adjusting your backpack straps on your shoulders.

“Oh…sure, yeah, I’ll see you around.” Steve stood slowly, tucking in his chair. You waved politely and headed out. The rain had stopped, thank god, and you rushed to your locker, grabbing your wet clothes from your locker before making your way outside. The field was muddy, practise was probably cancelled. You took the long way home that afternoon, cutting through the woods and the muddy park to avoid being spotted by Harrington on the way and getting caught in a lie.

The afternoon had gone well. And that scared the shit out of you.

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thirstyotakuimagines · 5 years ago

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FE3H Cuddling HCs: Blue Lions Edition

With the weather getting colder, I am all about being cozy af. Blankets. Fires. Sweaters. And my personal favorite: cuddles. In that spirit, here’s how I imagine my OG babies would cuddle.

Dimitri

most respectful boi

would probably ask before touching the first few times because he is a true gentleman

not one for PDAs

if he needs to feel your closeness in public, he’ll signal with a hand on the small of your back

will cover your hand with his under the table at dinner or while studying and rub small circles on your knuckles with his thumb

if you lean against him, he will instinctively go stiff

it’s not that he doesn’t like it - he just struggles a bit with personal space

once he settles into it, he’ll lean his head on your yours and just breathe you in

he thinks it’s cute when you fall asleep on him

it makes him feel strong and fiercely protective

he will not wake you up for anything, even if he has to go to the bathroom or gets hungry - he wants to hold onto these moments as long as possible because he knows how quickly they can be torn away

Dedue

like Dimitri but even more respectful, if that’s even possible

doesn’t like to be touched in public

won’t make the first move

the first time you reach for him, he will be shocked and maybe even recoil

this poor man struggles to fathom that another person would want to be that close to him

it takes him a long time to stop being surprised when you curl up on him or lay your head on his shoulder

but once he does, it’s hard for him to let you go

he could stay wrapped up in your arms for literally ever

he is surprisingly warm and soft considering how big and muscly he is

honestly, he could be your own private space heater

doesn’t move a lot when cuddling but loves it when you rub the back of his neck or his forearms

please snuggle this man so, so often - he needs it

Sylvain

c u d d l e m o n s t e r

you know that move where a guy will pretend to yawn and stretch to put his arm around you?

Sylvan has mastered this and is not afraid to use it

he will also attempt to cuddle Felix and Dimitri because it makes them very mad/uncomfortable respectively and he thinks it’s hilarious

Felix once socked him so hard in the upper arm over undesired cuddled that it bruised up for a week

will casually wrap his arm around your shoulders or your waist in virtually any setting

cuddles are often accompanied by forehead or temple kisses

he likes it when you run your fingers through his hair

will run his up and down your back or your side in return

beware if you are ticklish - he will absolutely exploit this for personal gains

enjoys falling asleep with you laying on his chest

will idly play with your hair

need to be reminded often that you like him for who he is and aren’t going anywhere

remind him while cuddling to get extra squeezes and loving

Ingrid

suuuuuper awkward about cuddling at first

needs you to make the first move and will definitely get flustered about it

“O..Oh...*blush*...I...no, don’t go away *grabs for hand*...I just...ugh...”

doesn’t mind public cuddles but doesn’t fully settle unless alone

the blushing doesn’t cease

cuddle when around Sylvain for a good time - he will pick on her and she will lose her cool and get angory

also a little weird being cuddled around Dimitri and Felix - she wants to look strong and independent around them

likes it when you hug her around her waist

prefers taller cuddlers so she can tuck her head under your chin

will flick or pinch you if you tease her while cuddling

also enjoys friendship cuddles from Mercedes

Felix

a n g o r y s p i k e y b o i

do not approach

will 100% push you away if you try to PDA

he’s not trying to hurt your feelings but he also isn’t really thinking about whether or not he is

he will, however, notice the disappointment on your face and feel bad about it

the first time he attempts private cuddles, it will be quick and dirty and incredibly awkward

think like...a stiff hug and pat on the head

he will probs get mad immediately after and run away

it’s because he doesn’t want you to see him blushing

will never be a pro cuddler but will, eventually, give into his cuddling urges in small doses

no matter what he says, he likes the feel of your fingertips on his bare skin

he tries to hide how it makes him shiver

most likely to cuddle (read: kiss your forehead and rub your back) when you are visibly distraught

Ashe

natural-born sweet cuddler

v e r y nervous at first but once you reciprocate, he will laugh and smile like you’ve given him the best gift

loves holding hands with you in public or private, especially while snuggling

prefers interlocked hand-holding to cupped

will occasionally kiss the back of your hand when he’s feeling extra pleased

lay your head on his shoulder - it makes him feel warm and loved

he will lean his chin into your head and you can feel him smile against your temple

likes to share blanket nests and snacks

lay on his lap while he’s reading, please - he might even read to you if you ask him to

willing to accept and dole out head pets

Annette

starts out like Ingrid but warms up a lot faster

before too long, small PDA cuddles become like second-nature

small touches, holding hands at lunch, sitting next to you with her hip pressed against yours, laying her head near yours

also a bit fan of blanket nests

please hold her when she’s freaking out or in a self-esteem spiral - it will help her calm down

will 100% choose to cuddle her BFF Mercedes over you (no offense)

kiss her forehead if you want her to blush

will switch easily between big and small spoon

maybe don’t play with her hair - she puts a lot of effort into her cute hairstyles and will be grumpy if you ruin it

Mercedes

mom-friend cuddles ftw

as long as they’re cool with it, she will gladly hug anyone who she thinks needs a boost

she honestly doesn’t think much of it the first time she reaches for your hand or offers you a hug because it’s so normal for her

you will have to clearly tell her that your desire for cuddles is more than platonic

she will be surprised, but pleasantly so

if you’re going to hold hands in public, make it subtle

she doesn’t like the attention on her but enjoys your general closeness

run your hands over her middle back (not too obviously if in public) - she takes on A LOT of others’ emotional weight and needs to know that someone is there to support her, too

likes it when you play with the ends of her hair

enjoys laying close after a long day, foreheads pressed together or spooning, and recapping

especially likes to hear about your day and will prompt you to keep talking by squeezing your hand

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yuthoe · 4 years ago

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Practice Makes Permanent (PENTAGON: Yeo One)

Hello, friends! This fic is entirely inspired by this post made by Changgu SO LONG AGO, and it looked so cute that I couldn’t get it out of my head. I’m a big theatre geek--I love acting and I was even in an org for it in college, and was cast last minute for a film, too. it’s one of my biggest passions, and hearing news of changgu being in something rotten! made me extremely happy. i needed an excuse anyway to get into the show, and this is the perfect opportunity!

this one took sooooo long to finish. it’s been in my unfinished folder for the longest time, and i’m so glad i’m finally finished with it. changgu’s last performance as Nigel Bottom is today, so i really tried to wrap it up before then. nothing like a deadline to get your ass in gear, am i right lol. but i do apologize if this one seems messy.

btw, the title is something my director would tell us to keep in mind: practice doesn’t make you perfect, it makes you and your body remember what you’re doing, whether it’s correct or not. so you have to practice things in the correct way before it becomes a habit and you keep repeating things the wrong way.

PAIRING: Yeo One x reader. GENRE: fic, general. WARNINGS: N/A. WORD COUNT: 1,635.

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You knock twice on the door of a dance studio in the company building, before opening it a smidge and peeking your head through, immediately spotting your boyfriend sitting cross-legged against the floor length mirror, his script for the upcoming show he’s in on his lap. Changgu turns to the door at the knocks and smiles wide when he sees you.

The door clicks closed behind you as you skip to where he’s sitting to give him a peck on the cheek. “Hello, handsome,” you greet as you put your messenger bag down on the floor near you; he murmurs a quiet hi as you settle down beside him. “So what did you ask me to come here for?”

He lifts one of your hands to his mouth and presses a soft kiss there. “Okay, so you know I was cast as Nigel Bottom in Something Rotten!, right?”

“Of course, and I’m exceedingly proud of you for landing the role,” you gush, leaning forward and smacking him on the lips. “I know you’ll do great in it.” You’ve seen the musical before, and it’s hilarious, so when Changgu told you the news, you couldn’t help but feel that playing Nigel would suit him to a T.

Changgu chuckles, grinning widely as he kisses you back. “Thank you, love. But yeah, I have a love interest in the play. And much of Nigel’s character development is helped forward by her, so… you know… if you’re okay with it… could you--,”

“Help you memorize your lines with Portia?” you ask with a smile. It’s been a while since you’d done any acting, apart from what’s necessary for your group’s comebacks. The last gig you could remember was for a short film two years ago that was screened during a film festival, and you’ve been itching to get in front of a camera again.

Your boyfriend shrugs nonchalantly, as if it’s no big deal. “Only if you want to, though. I know you’ve been busy lately.” He levels you with a disarming smile and soft caramel eyes. “But I’d really appreciate it if you could help me.”

You had been ready to say yes to the request even before he gave you that look, so you gently cup his face, press a light kiss on his nose, and say, “I’m never too busy for you, love.”

***

“Okay,” Changgu says, sitting on the “bench” (three chairs you’d put in a neat row), sheaves of papers in his hands. “Act 1 Scene 8… action!” He taps his rolled-up script against his palm, quickly unfurls it again, and starts scribbling on the cover with an invisible pen.

You stand a little ways away, clutching a piece of fabric you found in the corner around your head and shoulders like a cloak. Your feet want to move, want to pace around a bit from nerves of seeing and possibly talking to Nigel.

Nigel groans in frustration. “Uggggh, no you can’t.” He sighs, makes to stand up, and you spur into action, walking straight into him as he begins to walk away. “Oh, apologies. Good day, mistress.” He avoids your eyes, defeated.

He begins to side-step to excuse himself when you say, “‘Good days were those when lit with love, till dusk of death did herald th’eternal night’.”

It puts him to a stop, and he finally looks at you properly. He recognizes the line and confusion is written plain on his face, obvious in the way his brows furrow. “Hey… I wrote that.”

“Yes, I know,” you say, trying to fight the smile growing on your face as you lower the “hood” of the cloak. The cloth precariously hangs on your shoulders as you pat your pockets for the paper you stuffed in one of them earlier. “I accidentally took this after our first encounter,” you fumble with the blank page and show it to him. “Your sonnet. It’s--it’s perfection.” You’d never read something so deeply sorrowful and yet yet incredibly hopeful.

“Really?” Nigel’s eyes had lit up when you took off your hood, and now he’s fiddling with his hands, embarrassed but flattered. “You thought it was… good?”

You clutch the paper to your chest. “It touched me in places I did not know could be touched.” Instantly, your eyes widen and you inwardly curse yourself for making it sound like something sexual. You try to backpedal. “Forgive me. Poetry is forbidden in my house, especially poems of earthly love.”

You take a step forward, lifting a hand in front of you like you’re reading a marquee. “OH, IS THERE NO PITY SITTING IN THE CLOUDS THAT SEES INTO THE BOTTOM OF MY GRIEF?!” you yell, and press a hand to your heart with an impassioned sigh.

Nigel points a finger at you, the play coming to him easily. “Romeo and Juliet, Act 3, Scene 6!”

You whip your head towards him, more excited now. “You’ve seen it?”

He nods, just as elated as you. “Six times! And you?”

“Eight! If my father knew, he would disown me,” you reply.

“My brother, too.”

“I adore Shakespeare.”

“Me too! I’ve got Comedy of Errors, first edition,” he says proudly.

You smile. “I’ve got ‘Sonnet No. 1’.” You hold up a finger. “Signed.”

Nigel’s jaw drops. “Wow.”

“I know,” you say, giggling. Talking about literature always makes you so excited that it’s taking all of your willpower to not jump around right now. Nigel chuckles with you, overjoyed to find someone just as in love with poetry as he is.

The laughter dies down after a while, replaced by embarrassed smiles from both of you. As you move to tuck a hair behind your ear, you remember the paper you’re still holding and the reason you sought him out in the first place.

So you take a breath and look at him, completely serious now. “I think you’re his equal--if not better.”

Nigel is already shaking his head. “No, no way.”

“Oh yes,” you insist. “Your sonnet has Shakespearean sophistication mixed with the complexity of Daniel Webster and the sensitivity of Samuel Daniel.” The analysis has been eating at you since you first read the poem, that the words just tumbled out of your mouth. You needed someone to talk to about it, and who better than the author himself?

Nigel looks at you fondly, mouth upturned in an amused smile that shows his teeth. “You really love poetry.”

You sigh, grinning so wide it feels like your face is going to split in two. “Oh, I do. I really, really do.”

“And cut!” Changgu says. “This is where the song comes in, so we’ll skip that.”

“That was a good run!” you say, pulling off the fabric and folding it into a loose square. “I mean, I’m a little rusty so I could use some more practice, but you were good!”

Changgu does a tiny fist pump and gestures to his script. “Can we do another scene?”

“Yeah, sure,” you say, eager to try again. You didn’t think you’d miss acting this much, but Changgu just ignited that fire in you that absolutely loves being on stage. “What did you have in mind?”

***

Hours later finds you both in a cafe, you sitting across Changgu and exchanging notes from your mini-rehearsal earlier that afternoon. He nods in understanding as he highlights his lines on the open script, occasionally scribbling notes and tips in the margins. The serving of iced coffee sits half-empty beside him and you carefully sip your warm latte.

You like this, you think. You like practicing lines with Changgu, acting out scenes together, and delivering a whole new dynamic to your characters’ relationship. It makes you want to actually act with him on a legitimate project and, not for the first time, wish you auditioned for Something Rotten!, even as an ensemble character.

You hear the clack of Changgu capping his highlighter; it takes you out of the spiral of envy you were slowly tumbling into. He looks up at you, eyes soft and gazing at your face.

“Thank you for practicing with me earlier, Y/N,” he says, smiling.

His smile is literal sunlight and has you grinning back. “Anytime for you, Changgu,” you say with a giggle.

He chuckles and sits back on his chair with a sigh. You study him as he studies the highlighted pages.

“I wonder what it would be like if we worked on a project together,” he muses. “I bet it’d be so much fun. We could practice lines together, have loads of inside jokes…”

His eyes focus on you again. “And it would be an excuse to spend more time with you.”

It still amazes you sometimes, how much you two are on the same wavelength. Because of your packed schedules--comeback preparation for you, and musical rehearsals for Changgu--you hardly have time for each other lately. Truth be told, you miss him, and you know he misses you. Today is just an excuse to see each other after such a long time, and you’re just making the day count until you have free time again. And who knows when that’ll be?

You shake off the solemn vibe and say, “Okay. Next time, we audition for a musical together, yeah? Something… darker, maybe? More drama?”

Changgu grins at you conspiratorially. “Are you thinking romance? Or possibly a tragedy?”

You hum, tapping a finger on your chin in mock thought. “Why not both?”

“Oohh, Sweeney Todd? Chicago?” He starts humming the hook to “Cell Block Tango” while doing vogue-like moves, and it’s taking everything in you to not kiss him right now. You’re in a public place right now, and though there aren’t many people in the shop, public decency is still a thing.

No matter--you’ll make sure to shower his face in kisses later.

#pentagon #kdiarynet #uninet #pentagon yeo one #pentagon changgu #yeo one #yeo changgu #pentagon scenarios #pentagon imagine #pentagon yeo one scenario #pentagon changgu scenario #universe net #fic: yeo one #fic: not spicy #fic: mine #yeo changgu scenario #yeo one scenario #changgu scenario

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paperficwriter · 4 years ago

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A Spiral-Shaped Hole

A retrospective on Unus Annus

(More under cut)

It’s been a week since the end, and it’s so weird that I am still thinking about it.

I had the stream up on my computer since 3:00 p.m. There were a few points I had it on mute while multitasking other things, but it had been there in the background constantly, black and white and ticking away. That had always been my plan: to have the final stream of Unus Annus on while I did other stuff, tuning in here and there.

Until it was actually happening, I just couldn’t imagine sitting through a twelve-hour stream of anything. I don’t do that. I’m not a huge binge-watcher. I’m bad at staying focused for long periods of time, especially when it’s new information. I have to be doing things.

I’ve never experienced twelve hours move by so, so quickly.

—

In the aftermath of the stream titled “Goodbye,” I saw a lot of people on Twitter asking what was up with the hashtags, wishing people well on their ‘anuses.’ I also saw a lot of people genuinely asking, “What is this Unus Annus death thing that’s trending?” Some gave explanations. Some people said you had to be there.

If you’re still not familiar (or lucky enough to be a part of the experience), Unus Annus (“One Year,” in Latin) was a project and channel on YouTube run by two gamers, Mark (Markiplier) and Ethan (crankgameplays). The concept was that they would release videos of them enjoying a variety of experiences for one year, after which the entire project would be deleted. Forever.

A constant ticking clock shown at the beginning and end of each video counted down from 365 days to 0 with days, hours, minutes and seconds, reminding viewers that there was no stopping the passage of time.

Part of the appeal of the channel for many people was the intertwining of both the absurd and profound. The creators regularly revisited the saying “Memento Mori,” with each other as well as their guests, who ranged from physical trainers to casket designers to guard dog trainers, lizard handlers, and goat yoga instructors. Remember death. At its core, the message of the channel was to recognize that death comes for us all, and in this case the end of the channel would mean the death of everything they created.

When the clock counted down to zero, Mark and Ethan would delete the channel in its entirety, and with it the over 365 videos that took hundreds of hours of editing to get them out there. As the year continued on, people kept assuming that there would be some reconsideration. That in lieu of a year like 2020, the guys would decide against following through.

And when it became clear that was not the case, people started begging for it not to happen.

—

I rarely leave my house. I have now and then, of course, for specific errands, but compared to how this was less than a year ago when I was commuting to my day job, coming home, going out with friends, meeting up for movie and television show nights on Fridays, and travelling out of state...it’s a lot to just constantly have to stay in one spot.

Because it’s 2020, and there’s a pandemic outside the door that isn’t going away, as much as people think that it is or that it will or, worse, that it doesn’t matter either way.

I hit some hard points this year, as I know many have. I’ve gotten low. I’ve almost given up. I have found myself unable to create, to do anything other than lie in bed or sit in front of my computer “doom-scrolling” on Twitter, a term I had never even heard of before. There are days where it feels like my brain is a spin-the-wheel game; what emotion will it land on? Despair? Anger? Depression? Anxiety?

Regret?

Regret was - has been - often. Things that I had put off and said I would do a bit later - not even far ahead later, but just ‘not quite right now but’ later - seemed like things I might never be able to do. And that was so awful, the sensation of giving up on even small things.

Over the summer, my partner introduced me to Unus Annus. I was familiar with Mark(iplier) but not with Ethan, other than seeing him destroy a not-even-close-to-finished gingerbread house on a stream with Mark previously.

I started watching.

Remember how I mentioned the absurd? Suddenly I was going into past episodes and watching Mark and Ethan, among many other things:

Cook breakfast using sex toys

Play a game called “nutball,” which is honestly exactly what it sounds like

Draw naked pictures of one another

Use urine in a portable home sauna (one of three different videos that had to do with pee)

Go ghost-hunting

Play Two Truths and a Lie while waxing one another when they got an answer wrong

And the list went on and on.

The videos were absolutely fucking hilarious.

Most nights I would watch at least a couple of videos before going to bed, and some never, ever failed to make me laugh. I would turn on compilations at the end of the night before bed, just to end the day with something good.

I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t torn. As a creator, I admired Unus Annus’ commitment to owning the spirit of their project, encouraging people to live in the present. In a time where we assume everything that appears on the Internet will be there forever, having people committed to getting rid of everything at the end was impressive.

On the other hand, I also told myself I wouldn’t mind too terrible much if that just didn’t happen.

—

As the time ticked on past midnight, the chat on the YouTube stream was a blur.

#STOPTHECLOCK. Pleas that they not do it. People talking about how much they would miss them.

It wasn’t even really what you would call a “chat” anymore than you would call the crowd in a concert a conversation. You basically sat there and watched the noise as it happened, unable to really interact with anyone.

And as the time went on, they said goodbye. They said goodbye to their editors and to important people who had been with them throughout their journey. We got to see more of Amy, a fellow creator who was just as involved in the project as Mark and Ethan but stayed behind the scenes (behind the camera or the computer, often).

And at 3:00 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, Mark, Ethan and Amy pressed delete on the channel.

—

Since the channel and project ended, there have been mixed reactions. It felt - it feels - like a real loss. Just the other day, I found an anime music video from almost twenty years ago that I watched in high school, just for nostalgia’s sake. It’s a strange disconnected feeling, realizing that you can’t do this with this project.

There is still plenty of fanwork out there. Although Mark and Ethan took a hard stance against reuploading any of the Unus Annus videos (and there have already been so many attempts), they welcomed people to relive their memories with them and with the channel by leaving up their own clips, art, music and other transformative works that were inspired by the videos.

But even when you are watching the ones that are still up, it’s easy to feel like it’s sort of like watching old home movies of people no longer in your life. It’s not the same as having them there.

I know there have been and will be more projects like Unus Annus. But I don’t think there will ever be something like it in a time like this, when we needed to remember to make the most of the time we have. Grab it up, take it, move forward. When it sucks, it sucks, and you don’t have control over that. But then, it won’t suck. And it will be good. Because things can and do change so fast, and there is no stopping the passage of time.

#writing by paper #unus annus #markiplier #crankgameplays #iceddarkroast #mark fischbach #ethan nestor #amy nelson #2020 #this was originally going to get put up last week but #yeah this really left a feeling for me

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jess-rewatches-prodigalson · 5 years ago

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Episode 8: Family Friend

Things are getting intense.

SPOILERS

0:16 - Martin has a nameplate that reads “Dr Martin Whitly” in his home office. That is maybe the most egotistical, narcissistic thing I have ever seen. Seriously. WTF Martin.

1:14 - So this phone in the basement has a different phone number than the rest of the landlines in the house? Seems odd. I guess Martin set it up as a business phone so it needed to have a different number?

1:21 - This conversation is really cool. Malcolm is scared - you tell by the way his voice cracks a little at 1:22 and by his eyes in the beginning of the conversation. However, you can also see that Malcolm has been trained by the FBI to be an investigator. Listen to his interview skills. He’s calm, professional, and he’s speaking in careful, calculated sentences. It’s impressive. I’d really like to see him in this position more often. Another really interesting part of this scene is Jessica’s reactions in the background she looks positively terrified. She’s hugging herself and looking around in horror. I’m not sure we’ve ever seen her this frightened.

1:23 - So Watkins has been watching Malcolm right? For how long? Because he recognizes Malcolm’s voice. And presumably he recognized Malcolm’s face at the junkyard? Creepy.

3:35 - Ainsley is going through the interview footage with a disturbing amount of admiration and joy in her eyes - while her bf in unconscious because her dad orchestrated a stabbing during her interview. Also though, is she editing the video footage? Seems like that’s not in her job description?

4:40 - I love everything about the initial moments when we see Gil, JT, and Dani enter the Whitly house. First of all - Jessica is clearly still shaken and terrified. Secondly, Gil (even though he does look concerned for Jessica) looks so comfortable in that house. It really makes you wonder how many times he’s been there over the years because honestly, the house Gil was almost murdered in shouldn’t be a place he feels comfortable in. Finally - JT and Dani. hahaha they walk into the room with faces that are clearly trying to hide how awestruck they are by how rich the house is. JT actually has an expression that I’m interpreting as “Damn. Rich people have a lot of weird useless crap.” AND look how Jessica’s demeanour immediately changes from terrified to welcoming, considerate hostess the moment she sees JT and Dani. That is the result of years of rich people manners being drilled into her as a child. I’m sure of it.

5:12 - Look at the way Malcolm looks at his Mom as she pours a drink. He’s a mixture of exasperated, concerned, and embarrassed that her alcoholism is being so blatantly exposed.

5:24 - Malcolm giving the abridged house tour to Dani and JT is awesome. He’s clearly trying to make them feel a little more comfortable in a world they aren’t used to while simultaneously trying to make clear that he doesn’t love the fancy house - it holds bad memories and he’d trade it in for a life without trauma. Also - Dani’s reaction is perfect. She’s trying to make Malcolm just as comfortable as he’s trying to make her. I love it.

5:50 - How come this bald, black, police officer dude doesn’t have a name yet? He’s had speaking parts in most of the episodes. At this point he’s practically part of the team.

6:15 - Gil checking up on Jessica is super sweet. ALSO the irony of keeping a gun in a hollowed out copy of War and Peace is hilarious.

6:50 - Another Gil and Malcolm moment to fuel my heart. Also - Gil looks exhausted. Can someone please give this man a vacation? He does nothing but worry about our shaky-handed boy, Jessica, the Team, and Ainsley. Seriously - Gil needs some time off.

7:21 - So it’s the next day. Am I to believe that Gil somehow convinced everyone to go home, shower, and come back in a few hours? Because it’s daylight now and everyone is in a fresh outfit. Something tells me Malcolm would not have done that willingly.

7:22 - Something about the fact that Gil is the only one who ever drinks coffee during the case briefings is hilarious to me.

8:22 - You know I’ve always laughed at this seen because JT says, “I can’t with this.” but I’ve been missing the best part of the scene!! Look at Gil’s face. hahaha it’s an expression of total disbelief. He’s so done with working with these children.

9:29 - Just how many jackets does Malcolm have?!? I know he’s rich but I really want to see his closet. He doesn’t strike me as a rich person who cares about appearances or the money itself. So - what does his closet look like and who is buying him all of these jackets?!?

10:15 - Anyone else wonder how the hell someone managed to bury a winnebago without anyone noticing? It just seems like it would’ve drawn a lot of attention?

10:47 - *sigh* Gil is so resigned to the fact that he can’t control Malcolm. Poor guy looks exhausted. Trying to save Malcolm from himself is not an easy job. This particular case is also probably really hard for Gil too. I mean, Gil caught the Surgeon. If this killer worked with the Surgeon, Gil is probably questioning his detective skills. Questioning whether or not he missed something all those years ago that would’ve had this killer behind bars years ago. Also Malcolm has gone manic again. Yikes.

13:25 - Ainsley. Ugh. Girl - your bf is in the hospital with a stab wound. Stop trying to find a story to further your career and worry about him. Honestly. Why is she even dating this guy? She clearly doesn’t care much about him.

14:24 - Katcha? Another one of the Whitly family employees. WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF THEM?!? We’re up to 4 now (Louisa, Katherine, Alfonso, and Katcha).

15:51 - Look at Eve in this scene. Initially she is annoyed, then concerned, then curious but by the end of the conversation you can tell that Eve is scared of what Jessica tells her.

18:40 - haha look at Gil’s face here. He’s so pleased and amused that JT is teasing Malcolm. It’s precious.

18:57 - Malcolm’s comment about how the Junkyard Killer has been killing for over 20 years, which is longer than the Surgeon, has me curious. How long did the Surgeon kill for? Did Martin start killing before he got married? Before Malcolm was born? After Malcolm was born? After Ainsley was born? I really want to know. ALSO Gil looks so concerned after Malcolm makes that little comment. Generally Gil shoots Malcolm a concerned look whenever Martin is brought up. I love it.

19:02 - How long did the front desk have that box? No one noticed it was bleeding? AND that blood is seeping out really fast. There’s no way JT could’ve gotten it to Malcolm before it started bleeding. Ugh. The things I excuse/ignore because I understand episodes have a time constraint and things need to happen a certain way to forward the plot.

19:43 - I don’t know a lot about how quickly the human body decomposes or anything BUT father Leo’s hands did not look that beat up a few minutes ago. Check out the severed hand’s finger nails? They’re in terrible shape. Biology nerds: does this kind of stuff happen to severed limbs? I’m curious but too scared to google (I don’t want pictures).

21:00 - This is another instance where we can see how good Malcolm is at interviewing....well until Watkins brings up the girl in the box and Malcolm kind of loses his mind. I love this.

21:36 - Gil looks scared here. A rare look for him. Also - really makes me wish I could’ve seen the moment when the story behind the girl in the box was explained to Dani and JT.

22:30 - Look at Malcolm’s eyes. He looks haunted. Broken. Scared. I’m genuinely surprised he didn’t descend into a full blown panic attack. He looked really close to one.

22:50 - This conversation between Malcolm and Gil is everything. You can tell that Gil feels guilty - like he might’ve worsened Malcolm’s trauma. You can tell that Gil is also concerned about Malcolm. But check out the way Gil is speaking to Malcolm. Gil is so honest with Malcolm yet simultaneously reassuring. I respect that.

24:38 - The moment Malcolm decides that his need for answers is greater than his wellbeing. He could’ve called Gil right here. He could’ve walked away and waited for backup. But he didn’t because knowing the truth is more important to him than his physical health. That’s genuinely concerning. This is a passively suicidal act.

25:34 - “You even smell like him.” This line has always struck me as bizarre. What exactly is John referring to? Does Malcolm smell like fear? Or like desperation mixed with determination? Is that how he smells like Martin? Because I promise you Jessica Whitly would lose her mind if Malcolm was wearing the same cologne his father used to wear. If Malcolm smelled like Martin due to his personal hygiene products I’m sure Jessica would’ve put a stop to it. And I’m sure Malcolm would’ve listened to his mother in this instance because he’s so desperate to be nothing like Martin Whitly.

26:21 - This is sad. Malcolm is being honest here. He really believes that he is like his father even though he desperately doesn’t want to be like him.

27:22 - Gil is pissed. This is peak Dad behaviour. I’m shocked that he didn’t punish Malcolm himself or call Jessica because he knew that her overbearing presence would be punishment for Malcolm.

28:23 - Malcolm is spiralling. Look how manic he is. How desperate he is for answers. Look at how much pain he’s in. This whump is thawing my cold, dead soul (also semi-shirtless Tom Payne is attractive).

29:05 - Jin has the appropriate reaction to this. Ainsley does not. If a murder is on the loose you should be at lest mildly concerned for yourself and sympathetic for the victims and their families. Not excited at the prospect of a story.

30:02 - 1. Tom Payne without a shirt is...wow. and 2. He’s using frozen peas as an ice pack...so he does have food in the house?

30:25 - Yep. When he opens the fridge here you can see he has some other frozen vegetables in the door.

30:27 - This is interesting to me. Malcolm is clearly attracted to Eve and he doesn’t want her to think he’s crazy (even though their first conversation was about how he got high at work) so he hides his pill bottles. When Dani’s come over Malcolm has never hidden his pill bottles from her. Because Malcolm is comfortable with Dani. Just something to think about.

31:00 - Eve said she got Malcolm’s address under “false pretences”. The only false pretence I can see Jessica giving out Malcolm’s address to Eve is because Eve told her she was going to ask Malcolm out. But the false pretence implies that Eve has no intention of ever dating Malcolm. Huh. Either way, I would’ve really liked to hear that conversation. The one where a drunk Jessica Whitly gives a woman her son’s address because she thinks he’s going to get laid. It’s both upsetting and hilarious that this happened.

32:15 - Gil looks like exhausted. Holy crap. Why is everyone so worried about Malcolm when Gil is looking like this?!?

33:25 - The acting throughout this entire phone conversation is phenomenal. Tom Payne’s facial expressions really convey Malcolm’s desperation, fear, and determination to get answers. Lou’s tone of voice really conveys Gil’s worry over Malcolm and tired, desperation to solve this case. And Michael Raymond-James’ confident, controlling voice is just the perfect amount of creepy to be a believable killer.

34:40 - Are you telling me that Gil wasn’t hearing this conversation in real time? Why wasn’t the police recording this conversation for evidence? Also how is Malcolm’s cell phone connecting to Gil’s radio?

35:53 - “Damn it. Ainsley’s there.” This line is beautifully delivered. That is believable big brother concern. This whole sibling conversation is great. I love how they interact.

36:30 - Can no know in this family follow orders?!? Honestly. Ainsley stay in your room. These Whitly’s really need to learn to listen to the people who want to keep themselves safe. BUT SIDE NOTE: Malcolm’s desperate cries to Ainsley as she runs from the Junkyard Killer are haunting.

38:21 - THANK YOU JIN. SOMEONE WHO SEES IT MY WAY. AINSLEY DID YOU DIRTY BROTHER.

39:15 - “How’s Ainsley doing?” Love this. I’m so desperate to know the extent of Gil’s relationship with Ainsley. We know that Gil was a big part of Malcolm’s childhood. I want to know how much contact he’s had with Ainsley through the years.

40:35 - hahaha I love this scene between Jessica and Malcolm. It’s honest, sweet, and sad. You can really see the role that Malcolm put himself in. He’s the self-appointed family protector. He’s probably felt that way most of his life. You can see Jessica’s determination, guilt, and fear. It’s beautiful.

Ahhhhhh I love this show. Thanks for hanging out Prodigies.

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frightgothcar · 5 years ago

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HEY! Hey, you, reading this!!! I fuckin love writing but what I need to be able to write is a little thing called approval!! If you like this please comment and/or reblog!!!!!!!!!!

Area 51 au thingy. Danny/Wes. Songfic? Not really but the whole idea came from this song. V is based off of @its-towarzysz (main)/ @we-all-horny-here (sanders sides sideblog)/ @cockworktower (dp side blog) you should check them out, they make hella good content. Thanks to all my friends who helped me with motivation/proofreading. Tw for Death, Blood, Guns, and Violence. (Tell me if I forgot anything). I love this pairing and the lack of content sparks deep anger in my soul!! :)) Thanks for reading, enjoy!!

EDIT: Posting this on ao3 also @/godcannotdefeatfanfic

September 20th, 10:30 am

Area 51

Wes Weston had nothing to live for. Ever since his Mom had gone out for cigarettes on his 6th birthday and never come back his life had been a constant downward spiral. Maybe that was why he was in the middle of the Nevada desert, preparing to attempt to rush a highly armed government facility with a million other suicidal Millenials.

He fanned his face with his hand. It was over 86 degrees and he was practically melting in his Casper High spirit T-Shirt and blue jeans. He contemplated getting into his pickup truck and blasting the a/c but considering he only had a quarter tank of gas left, and it was a good 20 miles to the nearest gas station, he decided against it. Instead, he got onto his phone and texted his friends for the third time that morning.

Basketball-Boi: where r yall? its hot.

Phurry: we’re just driving in!! Do u see us?

Basketball-Boi: uhhh whats ur car look like

Phurry: the silver one

Basketball: V there are like a million silver ones what kind of car

Phurry: uhh Val says its called a subaru we’re right by a black car

Red_Huntress: They’re standing on the roof and waving. Can you see us now?

Wes looked up from his phone to see a person, about his age, standing on the roof of a silver Subaru, wearing a black band t-shirt and neon green booty shorts. Their long blond ponytail swished around their face as they jumped up and down excitedly. A girl stepped out of the car and began scolding her friend. She was wearing a matching red pair of shorts, there was black lettering on her backside that he couldn’t quite make out. He began waving back, which only excited the blond more. They lept over the brown-skinned girl and bolted towards Wes.

“Ready to fuck some aliens, Basketball-Boi?” They pulled him into a tight embrace.

“I was born ready!” He laughed, “How are you, V?”

“Pretty gay, thanks for asking.”

Wes opened his mouth to speak but V cut him off with an excited shout.

“Oh! That reminds me!” They slipped their arms out of their backpack straps and dug through the mint green bag for a minute before pulling a pair of hot pink shorts, “I wanted us all to match! Made ‘em myself!”

They flipped the shorts around to reveal ‘100% Nasty’ embroidered onto the ass in black. They then turned around to show off their own message, that read ‘Trash Man’.

“I made one for Val too, c’mon, we have to wear them!!”

Wes grabbed the shorts and held them to his hips. “Is this what you needed my measurements for?”

They nodded enthusiastically, “I was gonna make us team jackets, but that’s so cliche.”

“Huh, I mean, don’t get me wrong, these are… great, but are you sure pink is my color?”

V rolled their eyes, “Of course I’m sure, Wes! Just put them on, you’ll see.”

Wes sighed and walked behind his red truck for some privacy, not that there was much of that, the field was crowded with cars. He pulled down his blue jeans, thankful for the breeze on his legs, and pulled on the shorts. They were a perfect fit, clinging to his waist, and resting on his barely existent hips. The feeling of showing so much skin was odd to him, he’d never worn anything that short in public, but the look on V’s face made it all worth it to him. They didn’t laugh like he’d been expecting them to, instead clapping their hands and going on about how relieved they were that the shorts actually fit. He did a quick turn for them, and they nodded in satisfaction.

“I think it’s about time we caught up to Val, did y’all remember to bring soda?”

“Only the finest Mountain Dew the 7/11 could provide, M’lady,” V grinned.

“Than shall we be going, M’lord?” Wes held out his arm.

“Indubitably.” V linked their arm through his and they wandered through the crowd, searching for Valerie’s silver Subaru.

“Wes! V! Over here!” Val called, waving the hand that wasn’t holding a Mountain Dew at her friends. The two of them waved back and jogged toward her.

“Hey Val, long time no see,” Wes grinned as he pulled her into a hug.

“I missed ya, Weston,” Val reached up to ruffle his hair, but Wes dodged, pulling her into a headlock instead.

“Missed ya too, Grey,” He gave her a noogie and released her, leaving her free to jump onto him and boost herself high enough to get revenge.

“Aww, adorable! Old lovebirds rekindling an old flame?” V fluttered their eyelashes at their friends, who immediately recoiled.

“Ew, no! Wes? If I had to pick a guy, maybe. And that’s a hard maybe. I’m too gay for this.” Valerie picked up her can from the hood of her car and took a swig.

“Yeah! She’s like my little sister!”

“Hey, I’m older than you!”

“By like two weeks!”

V broke into laughter, “Cool it lovebirds, I’m only joking.”

Val and Wes rolled their eyes at V, who was now on the ground, rolling with laughter.

“Permission to pour some soda out onto our hilarious friend’s head?” Val asked teasingly.

“Permission granted! Fire at will!” Wes saluted. Val tipped her can enough to sprinkle V with the sticky green drink. They got to their feet, still laughing, and lunged for Val’s can. They knocked it backward, spilling soda all over Val’s shirt.

“EEK,” She squealed, “You’ll pay for this, Trash Man, If it’s the last thing I do!”

She tried to push the can towards V, but they still had a grip on her arm. They tugged the can back and forth for a few seconds before it crumpled under the pressure.

“Shit!” Val swore, letting go of the can and cradling her palm. “I think I cut myself.”

V dropped the can, game of tag forgotten, and crowded next to their friend. Wes joined their huddle.

“I think I have a first aid kit in my truck. How bad is it?” He asked.

Val opened her hand to reveal a small, but deep wound on the side of her palm.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, if I hadn’t-” V began.

“Naw, it was as much my fault as yours. Anyway, we were having fun, and it’s really just a scratch. Keep focused on those Aliens, Private!” Val reassured them.

“Aye aye, Captain!”

Wes walked back to his truck, ignoring the stares of passerby. He grabbed his first aid kid (thank god for boy scouts) and walked back to Val’s car.

“So,” Wes ripped open a disinfecting wipe with his teeth and got to work cleaning her hand of blood. “How’s your dad?”

“He’s doing-” She drew in a sharp breath as he dabbed along the wound with a clean wipe. “Fine. The new job’s working out great, he’s happier than I’ve seen him in a while.”

Wes nodded and began wrapping her hand in gauze, “I’m glad. He wasn’t himself when you left.”

“It really all did work out for the better, didn’t it,” V smiled and handed Wes a length of medical tape. “Oh! I forgot! Val, show Wes what your ass says!”

She groaned, “Do I have to?”

V scowled, “Of course you have to, it was your idea!”

“I was just joking!”

“Tsk tsk, I think you’ve known me long enough to know that when it comes to cursed content, there are no jokes.”

“C’mon Val, it can’t be worse than ‘100% Nasty’,” Wes smirked.

V gasped dramatically and feigned offense, “You’ve wounded me! I work so hard, and for what, ungrateful friends?”

“Fine, if it’ll make you happy I’ll show him my ass. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She winked at him before turning to show her backside. Black embroidery spelled out ‘Booty Hunter’.

Wes burst out laughing, which quickly turned to hysteric noises only vaguely resembling laughter, squeals, and snorts with shrieking giggles between them. V and Val couldn’t help but join in. The second one of them stopped laughing someone would whisper Booty Hunter and it’d start all over again.

“Okay, okay,” Wes gulped in air, “We- hic -should calm down now.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Val wiped a tear from her eye, “I am the Queen of Calm.”

V got to their feet and dusted themself off. “Totally calm. Calmer than a… something calm.”

“When does the raid start?” Wes pulled out his phone and checked the time. 12:00.

“Around, 12:30ish, we have time.” V waved their hand.

“I dunno, it’s already 12, maybe we should start getting ready.”

“What do you mean it’s already-” V snatched the phone from his hand, “Huh. Time sure flies when you’re having fun.”

“Wait, get ready for what exactly? I mean, we’re here, we’ve got our shorts on, there’s enough Mountain Dew in my car to drown an elephant, what else is there to get ready?” Val questioned.

“Uhhh, I dunno, stretch?” Wes shrugged, “It just feels like we’re forgetting something. What exactly is the plan for this whole thing anyway? Are there gonna be waves? Do we all go at once? This is a pretty poorly organized event.”

Val shrugged, clearly unphased by the lack of organization, “We’ll just go when everyone else starts running. I’m sure the start of gunfire will tell us when.”

“Look, if it’s making you so worried, we can stretch before. I’m sure everything will be fine. Plus, we all get alien Girlfriends, so it’s a win-win!” V put their hand on his arm. Wes smiled thankfully down at them.

“Yeah, that’s probably it. Yall must think I’m being a nitpick-”

“Not at all! You’re probably right, after all, it must be at least a mile to the base from here, and we can’t let cramps keep us from sweet sweet alien romance.” Val propped her leg up on the hood of her car and pressed her head to her knee, “Plus that’ll give us an advantage over the Kyles.”

V nodded and fell into a lunge, “We’ve been training since July for this, can’t let it get away now because we forgot to stretch.”

Wes bent over and touched his toes, “Thanks y’all, you’re really the best friends I could ask for.”

The screech of a megaphone rang out through the valley. A voice came through the static, “Raiders! Get into position, we’re storming the gates in exactly fifteen minutes!”

A cheer broke through the crowd as people began chugging what was left of their sodas and migrating towards the front lines.

“Well, this is it I guess. If I don’t make it out of the raid, put this on my tombstone.” Wes gestured downward, where he was holding his hand in a circle.

“Dammit!” Valerie chuckled as Wes gave her a playful punch in the arm.

“You’ll never take me alive!” V shouted and sprinted forwards as Wes moved towards them.

“On your marks!”

“Wanna bet on that?” Wes shouted back, weaving through the crowd to catch up with them.

“Get set!”

V pushed forward, using their small frame to their advantage, easily losing the taller one in the crowd.

“Raid!”

The mob roared, then began thundering forward, but the deafening sounds of the people were nothing compared to what followed. Thousands of guns began firing at once, hitting everyone and everything in the vicinity. Wes watched with horror as the first wave of people were mowed down right before his eyes. A flash of neon green caught his eye through the carnage. He ran towards his friend, who was standing, paralyzed, next to a few other survivors. He shouted their name, and just as they turned their head another hailstorm of bullets rained down. The first one embedded itself right into V’s chest, right above their heart. Wes sprinted to catch his injured companion, but by the time he got there the life was already draining from their eyes.

“V! V, can you hear me? Don’t go into the light, hold on, ok? You’ve got this, V, answer me!”

He pressed his head to their chest, a weak heartbeat answered him. “It’s gonna be okay. Shhh, you’re okay.”

Something wet dripped down his face, and he realized he was crying.

“...Wes,” V rasped out, then began violently coughing up blood. Little flecks of red peppered Wes’ face like freckles. “Fuck an alien for me, okay? Can you promise me that?”

Their body went limp in his arms.

“V? V! V, wake up, please, that can’t be it, please V, you’re only 17, please!” He shook their corpse, but to no avail. V was gone. He closed his eyes and let out a shuttering breath before standing up, still clutching their body in his arms.

“Second wave! On your marks!” The megaphone blared to life.

The crowd let out another, less confident cheer. After seeing all the carnage most of the raiders were less enthusiastic to ‘see them aliens’. But this time Wes had made up his mind. He was going to make it into that Government facility, and he was gonna burn that motherfucker to the ground.

“Get set!”

He laid his friend on the ground and pressed a kiss to their forehead. If it wasn’t for the massive amount of blood they could’ve been sleeping.

“Go!”

Wes screamed with all the anger he had in him and charged forward. Bullets rained down near him, but this time there were less of them. This time he had a chance. He saw the gate coming closer. He was only 50 feet away, he could make it! He hopped over the fence, ignoring the blaring of sirens, and kept running. He pushed his way into the building, where, surprisingly, there was no security. It looked like they had invested all their soldiers into protecting the outside of the base. His adrenaline rush began to slow down. He dragged his feet down the linoleum hallway, looking at his bloodsoaked hands.

“What the fuck just happened?” He whispered to himself, still shellshocked. A flicker of light caught his eye. Grateful for a distraction, he turned his attention to what looked like a futuristic control panel. The buttons were labeled in some sort of code, their luminescent surfaces grinning up at him.

“Looking for me, Short-Shorts?” A calm voice echoed through the hall. Wes whipped around, ready for a fight.

“Why so on edge, Ginger? Surely I’m not that intimidating.” It purred.

“Who are you?!” Wes shouted. He winced at the echo. Did he really sound that unhinged?

“On your left.”

He turned and found himself face to face with the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen. He looked about his age, maybe 17. His skin was tan, but had a slight blueish tint, as if he’d been without oxygen for a while. Poking from his tuft of pearly white hair was a pair of blur antenna. He had a small build, maybe 5 feet tall at best, but was floating at eye level with Wes. Speaking of his eyes, they were quite possibly the most gorgeous thing about him. He had eyes greener and glowyer (is that even a word? Either way it was true.) than toxic waste, his pupils were like a cat’s, slit down the middle. He was clothed in a baggy black prison jumpsuit. He looked almost alien. Wes realized with a start that he must be an alien.

“Are you done staring?” The boy asked, snapping Wes out of his trance. “It won’t be long before the guards realize you’re in here, and I’d rather get out without a bullet hole.”

“I- I don’t- what are you?” Wes stammered.

“I’m Project Phantom, or Danny if you prefer. What’s your name?”

“I’m… Wes?”

#danny phantom #danny phantom fic #fanfiction #my writing #wes weston #danny phantom au #area 51 au #unidentified flying ship #wes x danny #danny x wes #wes/danny #danny/wes #i dont know what else to tag this #Gayrea 51

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hoopdiddies · 6 years ago

Text

I'm Not Over You // Ben Hardy x Reader (Part 7)

A/N: This is probably the longest I've written in this series. Again guys, thank you for the support, your comments and likes mean so much! My tag list is always open so feel free to ask. And on a slightly heavy note: the next chapter could be really angsty. Just a heads up right there uwu

Summary: You had always loved Ben ever since you two met in university and became the best of friends. That feeling went out like a candle flame when the two of you parted ways until he re-entered your life...but this time with someone who has already occupied his heart.

Warnings: Angst, slight drinking, slight swearing, (yeah the fluff is still present)

W/C: 5k-ish

Tags: @haendel-me-with-care

@mrsdoradominguez-barnes

@mickmoon

@lakef

@mrsmazzello

@valeriecarolinaw

@queen-turtle-boiii

Edited// I forgot to link the previous parts

Parts: 6 5 4 3 2 1

(Got the pic from Pinterest hhh-)

Storing the luggage bag you've purchased for a fair price in the spare room, you come across a small box of sundries tucked in one corner with cobwebs clinging to the sides. Your eyes light up with curiosity spiking within you, you pick it up and dust the webs off, blowing the particles away from the top. You squat on the floor and open the flaps, discovering small yet familiar items that had been lost in time– one of them being a sepia-toned polaroid of you and Ben posing dramatically with hilarious doodles drawn on your faces. You forgot about this, feeling a little guilty that you had hidden it away in a drafty box without remembering doing anything of the sort. You flip the picture over and spot a date and an unfinished sentence written in faded ink on the bottom left part. This was taken on Homecoming night.

'I'm not going-' it says, clearly discontinued next to the date. Silly to think that the picture somehow represents a puzzle piece torn away from its board.

You were bound to graduate the week after and barely a day after, not see each other for several years due to your career paths and post-college choices.

You pull on the hem of your shirt, clearing the picture of dust and any more impurities, finally fitting it into your back pocket to finally treasure it the way it was always meant to be treasured.

The door clicks as you bring it close, your eyes gluing themselves at the hardwood floor seconds to having self-pity billow over you at how quickly your tears surface in the corner of your eyes from the memory of Ben spinning Rosy around - the exact way he did with you -and kissing her like she's a pouch full of life.

You clamp down on your bottom lip, trying your hardest not to stain your cheeks with your pooling tears. "Jeez, you just-" you pace back and forth in frustration, balling your fists as you gesticulate lazily, "you just don't get it, Y/N! Ugh, you're so- fuck, just get over it..." Knowing your harsh soliloquy would be getting you nowhere, you snarl strongly at yourself and roughly wipe your tears away with the back of your hand.

"He loves Rosy. F-freaking deal with it!" The reminder takes a hiss from your quivering lips for it to sink in; you have your own place in his life– a place behind the line you'd drawn in the years prior. The friend zone couldn't be any more hollow and cold than it already is.

And a polaroid pic is the only remnant left of how inseparable you and Ben were in the early days.

At the same time you're feeling your heart tear itself apart, Ben pulls out a picture - similar to what you've found - from the inner pocket of his old varsity jacket in the middle of rummaging through his wardrobe. He leaves his room in his pajamas and tosses himself on the couch next to a sleeping Frankie, softly apologizing to the little beagle for disturbing her cat-like nap. As he cuddles Frankie close, he scrutinizes the picture and it's also from Homecoming, but in it both of you are beaming widely with your arms slung around one another– the doodles ever-so-present on your faces. Behind it, the date and the continuation of the trailed-off sentence written at the back of your share of the memory.

'-anywhere at all.'- it ends in Ben's part of the duality. He grins fondly at the long lost picture, feeling twice as guilty for not keeping it safe and...close to his heart, just as he had promised you that night.

- - - - - - - -

In the convenience of Lucy needing some company to shop with for awards season just as she had returned from her get-away with Rami, she drags you along happily, having to pass through you insisting that you stay at home and study but purposefully ending up under her mercy anyway. You couldn't say no to her, she's basically your sparkly, glam counterpart and you're in need of her life-altering sparkles as of now. Especially since you're going to be tagging along with them, mainly as Joe's date cause you know, you're his 'girlfriend' and all.

You're at the mall, in a stylish boutique full of lines of voguish clothing and shoes that could span miles if not compressed together. For once in the hours you've spent scampering around the mall with Lucy to hoard dresses, skin products and make up, you admit that this is the most aesthetically pleasing space in the entire building.

You traipse along a section with black dresses fashioned into different forms, silently praying that what you have with you will amount to at least one of the varying prices.

Lucy's on the opposite side, ogling at the most colorful section in the boutique for a piece to wear. She peers over at you to make sure you've chosen your 'fighter'. A few swishes of the dresses lined up and you do, holding it up high to evaluate the appropriateness.

It's a sleeveless, halter neck satin that's just a few inches above the knee. Utterly backless but it ends right up the small of your back. The fabric is stretchy enough to move around and breathe in as it simultaneously hugs your shape. You love it but gulp as you prepare yourself for the price. Flipping the tag over, you suddenly wish you could let out the biggest, girlish squeal the human race has ever heard with how surprisingly affordable it is.

"Finally picked out yours?" Lucy pokes her head up playfully and you nod, quite speechless but giddy. She makes a grabby hand at your dress to examine it for herself.

Well she's the fashion guru so why not? You hand her the dress and as she trails her eyes from top to bottom, her mouth falls at the simple yet elegant details. "This is perfect! I highly doubt that it's not going to catch every exposed eye present at the event."

Your flush profusely at her comment. "Thanks but I'll be bringing a coat with me."

That triggered her, but of course you're only teasing. "You better effing not." She warns you and you chuckle, taking the dress from her and evenly brushing the skirt.

"I won't, you can sleep soundly tonight."

You assure her of the possibility. As you exit the boutique with a few bags you're not used to holding, Lucy takes out her phone and gasps, her face contorting with a little disbelief. "Uh oh, this might ruin your mood." She hands you the phone and you gape at her confusingly before taking a quick look.

Ben's posted some updates on his wedding preparations, shockingly tagging you, Joe, Gwil and Lucy in one photo. He's pretty busy alright; unable to text or call you for days but miraculously tagging you out of nowhere.

You come to disregard it until you notice one minute but important detail hidden in plain sight in all of his posts– there isn't a single one with him and Rosy together alone. None of such as well on his new ones.

The only post he's had with a close girl is the one with you, which is at the very bottom of his Instagram feed. You won't admit it but it warms your heart a little. Actually, a whole lot despite wondering why there's none of him and his fiancee. You hand Lucy her phone back and tilt your head to one side, suddenly finding the eagerness to go on shopping. "Let's go."

The following week comes as a radial blur contrasted to the slightly moderate one you just woke up from; your manager phoning you up to take the earliest shift you've had in years at the expense of your allotted time to rest, the heavy workload and rush hours in the upcoming hours followed by the slowest progress of filing your travel documents and visa needed for your departure on the 26th. You've got tons of missed calls from your parents and Joe, who's requested for you to pack up early since you'll be leaving for LA with Lucy on the day of the awards but earlier.

Also noting that you still need to double check the costs for flying to LA and back, ruling out the one exclusive for your flight on the 26th.

For mere days you feel as if you could lose your sanity as your life spirals into madness with everything you're required to do– whether or not you're obliged to do it.

But they are effective distractions for that problem you are still very much preoccupied with. That's a matter noteworthy of later discussion. Amidst all the chaos happening, part of you wishes for Ben to reply to your messages or even talk to you in the slightest. You never bothered to call this week since he's tied up but the least he could do is let you know how he's doing, if he's thinking of you once in a thousand passing seconds.

You give up for a day waiting on him and drown yourself in work.

- - - - - - -

Securing your phone between your tilted head and your shoulder as you indulge in your talk with Joe through the line, you crouch and zip your luggage bag close. Your eyes fixating themselves on two, separate luggage bags for two, separate travels.

"Was that all of it?" Joe's disembodied voice asks. You spring up and take your phone between your fingers. "Pretty much. I better have a kick out of something by the time we touchdown tomorrow– it's my first visit to the US." You inform him, leaping into your bed and landing comfortably.

He chortles softly and ensures you. "I know and you can be sure to expect a good par- ow! Bad kitty!" His smooth transition to a yelp amuses you for split second.

"Are you alright? "

"No. I'm finally feline food to my kid." He refers to his pet cat that has taken a small nibble on his finger, in which Joe returns with a light ruffle to its fur. You can't help but giggle heartily at him.

"Anyway, I'm picking you and Lucy up from LAX tomorrow." He gives you that heads up and you bring your hand up to your forehead. "Where will we be staying?"

"I've booked a hotel earlier so you've got nothing to worry about the moment you land." A faint crunch can be heard from your end and you mind to ask Joe about it. "Are you- are you eating?"

To answer your question, he bites down on his food sloppily and guarantees you of what you heard. You smack your lips together as your eyes narrow in bewilderment.

"Does that answer your question?"

"Sometimes you make it easier for me to hit you with a pillow."

"Is that how you treat your boyfriend?" He taunts at you and cackles, his distorted voice bouncing off of the walls of your room. You sigh, defeated by the fact that this charade is still going on. It's silly and immature yet you and Joe somehow managed to stick to the act.

"Speaking of boyfriend though– would he be furious if I told him that I couldn't be there on his wedding day?" Since you're rested and got nothing else to distract you, you pop the question to Joe.

"Ben?"

You hum softly.

"There are two scenarios that we need to consider," on his end, Joe taps his finger on his lips as he thinks of said scenarios, "Best case scenario- he would get discouraged and slightly unmotivated, and obviously sad, but he'd still support you cause that's your dream."

You sit up and twirl the ends of your hair around your finger, swallowing. "And worst case scenario?"

Joe falls silent before exhaling harshly. "You'd crush his soul, heart, everything ranging from physical to spiritual and it would take a toll– and I mean a substantial toll on your friendship."

"Joe, don't make it sound like a prospect! "

"That is, " he adds strongly, "if he finds out that you had meant for him to be oblivious to it." And he's right. But you had a reason. You still do. Even if you do end up telling him and he supports you, you need a great deal of space to move on.

As long as he's committed to Rosy and you're in the sidelines still in love with him, it's just something toxic. You couldn't love anybody they way you do Ben and you feel like you'll never love someone like him ever again. Albeit how clueless he is sometimes and clumsy, you both had survived every storm and wave. So sticking around to witness him give his hand and heart to someone else is torture for you.

"I'm gonna be direct and say-" just as you begin talking, your phone shrills to another caller, cutting you off from Joe.

One look at the screen and your heart begins racing. Speak of the devil. You reserve an explanation for cutting off and answer Ben, clearing your throat. "You're late."

Ben's gruff chuckle welcomes you back. "I know, I'm so sorry. Busiest week I've had and the lady at Starbucks signed my cup like a snail."

"What are you doing tonight that requires coffee?"

"Call me dramatic- or do so, given that I'm an actor- but I just want to stargaze right now." You hear a light rustle coming from his end, like he's seated out on his lawn.

Silently giving him the 'oh really' look, you spread one side of the curtain to let some moon light in. "Ben, you're leaving early tomorrow."

He hums, seemingly enjoying himself. "But that's not an excuse to not enjoy the night." This boy can not get any cornier. You cast your gaze upon the moon, sighing profoundly. "How did the wedding planning go? Good?"

"Hm, yeah. Church wedding, big reception. Whole lot of booze binging planned out. And a killer bachelor party the day after the awards. " He jokes through the line and you tell him off in a playful chide. "Benjamin Jones, you better-"

"I won't. I won't." You sense his gentle smile from your end, checking the time and reluctantly coming to the decision to hit the hay since you'll be leaving early as well. As much as you want to recreate those late night conversations you once had with him, you can't.

"Hey?" You coo somehow.

"Yeah?"

"I gotta sleep. I have to meet Lucy at the airport at 5."

He gives out a throaty grunt as if he's pulling himself up. "Tragic. I'll see you in LA then, love."

Your lips curl up into the gentlest smile with the moonlight blessing it from the window. "You too. Tell yourself and the rest- especially Brian and Roger- that I'm gonna be rooting for you guys to get up on that stage."

"I will. Thanks for the motivation, Y/N. All the words coming from you just mean so much to me. To all of us." And in his voice, you can hear his utmost sincerity and fondness just highlighting his tone.

"Anytime. Now let me sleep, you bloke. "

"Haha, alright. Love you tons, love."

Shifting your eyes to the sky once more, you reply, allowing the words you're about to say to mean more.

"I love you too, Ben. Good night."

- - - - - - -

24th

You had promised Lucy you'd arrive 10 minutes earlier than her and you really didn't hold on to that promise. As soon as you arrive at the airport nearly bathing in sweat and deaf from the multiple rings Lucy has given you, you both take off to the waiting area with your heavy luggage where you spend an hour and a half waiting for your flight to board. Joe has sent two texts telling you that he's still in the middle of having coffee and it's a questionable action since he's 8 hours behind you and is expected to be asleep by now.

You reply with a simple, "See you there" before heeding to the call of your flight number from the speakers.

All the rushing and you haven't had a bite of breakfast yet. An eleven hour flight doesn't sound so bad, as long as you make sure you don't reel everytime you get up to use the bathroom and acquire jet lag the moment you land from a direct flight without any pit stops. The flight is long as you are awake but by the time you fall asleep in between hours, it shortens the duration. The pilot announcing your arrival wakes you and Lucy from the latest nap you've had on the plane. After gathering your luggage and answering a couple of phone calls on you way down the plane, the arrival area is where you spy Joe behind the red tapes, a scarf around his neck and an eager look plastered on his pale skin, just waiting for you and Lucy to step in. His eyes crinkle as he sees you both treading towards him with a handful of luggage. He greets you both with a tight hug and ushers you to his car, assisting with the transport of your things.

He's booked you in the hotel he's staying in to, of course, avoid some minor inconveniences especially since the awards start at 7 pm and you drastically need Lucy to help you prepare. Upon reaching the hotel, he leads the both of you up the second floor and into the hall for your rooms.

Apparently you and Lucy will be sharing which is the great and Joe will be staying in the room right across yours.

After giving yourselves a brief tour of the room, you settle in and unpack your essentials.

"Y/N, bring out your fighter!" Lucy declares with a giggle, pulling the dress she's chosen from her suitcase. It's a purple, off-the-shoulder, crepe satin and black velvet gown that cascades gracefully against the stable air.

Your eyes widen in awe at how it looks against the light. "No need for a match, Luce. You win," you raise your hands up in surrender, "that's- that's catching more eyes. From Rami of course."

"Oh shut it. You'll look smooth in black." She clicks her tongue and smoothens it at the edge of the bed. You whip out yours and hold it up high, wavering a little at how you'll look like in it tonight. How fortunate you were to find 3-inch, black pumps closeted when you were 'panic packing' the night before. You take it out from your suitcase and set it aside before striding towards the blinds, pulling it up and beholding the breathtaking view of Hollywood before you.

Your first visit to the US and you're already headed to the Oscars. This isn't the real life. This is just fantasy.

- - - - - - - -

"We're having a dinner party afterwards, I don't see any reason for two sandwiches before the ceremony." Staring blankly at how Joe's handling waiting for you and Lucy to emerge from your room, Rami purses his lips quizzically– he's come by to pick up his girl as well. The two men look dashingly handsome in their black tuxes and slick hairstyles– their individual charm strong as they highly anticipate for your appearances.

Joe swallows the chunk in his mouth before speaking. "I'm stressed."

"About what?"

He bites down on his last sandwich, dusting his hands off crumbs as he reasons out. "It's the Oscars. Biggest ceremony of the year."

With a shake of his head, Rami opens his mouth to protest but pauses as the creak of the door behind them butts in their conversation. Lucy - exquisite in her cascading satin gown and look dotted in light to moderate make up - emerges with her purse in hand and eyes heady on Rami.

Joe wishes he could loosen some hinges in Rami's jaw since the latter has got his mouth agape at her girlfriend's evening look. To him, she is his ultimate award and he wouldn't have it in any other way.

"Hey, babe." Lucy smiles delicately and kisses Rami's cheek, to which he responds with a breathless, "Luce, you look..." His starstruck silence finishing his compliment for her. Joe hums, agreeing with crossed arms. "I wish I was as pretty as you, Boynton."

"You boys look handsome, too." Lucy giggles softly and Joe begins to wonder. "Where's Y/N?"

"She'll be out in three...two..." As Lucy deliberately pauses her countdown, you come out of the room, head down as you feel a bit hesitant to continue but you regain your confidence and look up timidly– your appearance putting Joe in the same position Rami was just in with Lucy. The dress really agrees to your form, contouring every curve of your body in a semi-sensual way, guaranteeing that you'll be snagging some looks tonight. Your (H/C) hair frames your face intricately with your light make-up emphasizing the color of your eyes and lips. The light brush of air against the skin of your exposed back makes you clutch your purse tighter, deeming it uncomfortable.

Lucy smiles proudly at her work and that is you. "Well, how does she look Joe?"

Joe lets out a hitched exhale, hazel eyes wide as a sinkhole and a slacked jaw struggling to budge. "Like my girlfriend."

"You wish." You can't help but retort playfully and he brings his finger up to his lips, hushing you. Rami compliments you as well and you thank him as the four of you make your way to the elevator– your arm on Joe's and Lucy's on Rami's.

You've taken a limo for the sake of convenience, since Joe and Rami wanted to propose a pre-toast - with the champagne present in the vehicle - to their successes and hard work in the past year. You have faith they'd bring home an Oscar; considering how spectacular their work was portraying the members of Queen. You're also thrilled that you're about to meet Brian and Roger.

The limo parks just across Dolby Theatre and the four of you climb out, making your way arms-in-arms into the place crowded with paparazzi and attendees. You see yourself as a small fish swimming in a sea full of majestic dolphins. This is the big leagues right here and you're not even one bit of a celebrity– at least you feel like you aren't one. After a couple of shoulder brushes with either familiar and unfamiliar faces and escaping the blinding flashes of the cameras, the four of you reunite with Gwilym who has Roger and Brian present by his side. You are introduced to the two Queen members by Joe and you couldn't be any more happier to meet them in person. A couple of moments of interacting with the rest of the crew and cast, Ben joins the 'party' looking sharp and admittedly drop-dead gorgeous in his white tuxedo blazer and slicked back hair with Rosy by his side.

Before he could even reply to the greetings of his friends, he lays his eyes on you and for a while– his pupils dilate and his expression flits faster than he can command it to. He can't believe what or who he is seeing before him amidst all the glam. Letting go of Rosy's hand for a minute, he steps close to you, indescribably captivated. "Y/N...h-hey."

You keep your composure, musing back. "Hey. You look left out, outfit-wise, and a like a million bucks."

It takes him nearly five seconds to reply with the way hes has his eyes transfixed on you. It's like he's seeing you for the first time. Your evening look setting him back to Homecoming night and something inside him just tweaks. You avoid his mindless gaze and break the silence, trying your hardest not to flush. "Ben, please talk. It's just really-"

"You look...beautiful." He breathes out like he had just gotten up from under water.

#queen #borhap #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #borhap cast #borhap cast x reader #borhap imagine #joe mazzello #ben hardy fanfic #imagine #fanfic

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elizas-writing · 6 years ago

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Movie Reviews: Venom

**Mild Spoilers for Content Warnings**

This film includes scenes with bright flashing lights, high pitched sounds, and vomiting. While brief, they’re not so great if you’re photo and/or sound sensitive or squeamish. So when...

Eddie goes to take pictures in the dark facility

Eddie eats out of a garbage can

Eddie is in/near the MRI machine

Venom is on top of a building

And the big climatic showdown.... those are your cues to turn away and/or cover your ears.

On with the review!

I can’t remember the last time I saw such a mixed-bag of a movie in every sense of the phrase like Venom. The shared rights between Sony and Disney with Spider-Man in film is confusing enough as is, especially with the former starting universes completely unrelated to MCU. But at the same time, given the titular character’s embarrassing portrayal in Sam Raimi’s Spider-Man 3, it’s long overdue to do justice and give something better than....

... that.

With spooky, gritty trailers promising a dark character study to ring in October, it definitely pays off in ways I did and didn’t expect. However, despite some of the mindless enjoyment of the film and character, Venom also seems like it’s holding back from doing something greater to stand out among the likes of MCU and DCEU. But at what point does that really matter?

Tom Hardy plays investigative journalist, Eddie Brock, who built a hell of a career uncovering corruption throughout San Francisco but often gets in trouble for his bluntness and means to get the story. His next lead is the bioengineering startup company, the Life Foundation, after one of their rockets suddenly crashes on Earth after a mission to find habitable life in space. Going against his boss’s warnings and even snooping through his fiancee’s emails with her law firm defending the company, Eddie pressures the CEO, Carlton Drake, to answer about the crash and numerous mysterious deaths surrounding their pharmaceutical tests. Not only is he forcibly removed from the facility, but he also loses his job and fiancee when she finds out what he did.

Six months pass, and Eddie, down on his luck to find work and mental stability, meets a doctor working for the Life Foundation who reveals the secrets of their experiments. When the rocket crashed, it was carrying alien specimens which Drake calls symbiotes, and he believes by giving these creatures human hosts, it’ll unlock secrets for humanity to survive outside of Earth. But, as you do, these experiments are killing all his human subjects, so Eddie goes to further investigate. One of the symbiotes escapes and latches onto Eddie, giving him superhuman strength, hyper-acute senses, and an insatiable hunger. The symbiote reveals himself to Eddie and offers his aide to keep him safe from Drake (mainly by tapping into Eddie’s impulses). But the two have bigger problems on their hands when another escaped symbiote wants to use Drake technology to bring back more of their kind to take over the Earth, and this unlikely pair will have to work together before further disaster strikes.

The film has all the right pieces to create a better than average film, and when they’re done well, they really shine. Tom Hardy is a great actor choice for this rendition of Eddie Brock. He fancies himself a bad boy with the black clothes and motorcycle, but he always wants to do right for society in calling corruption where he sees it. But with his life spiraling out of control and a symbiote latched to him, he’s constantly on edge and struggles to maintain his morality. Hardy is also spectacular lending his voice to Venom with the help of some killer editing where you can hardly recognize him. Of course, he’s incredibly threatening and you never know what’s on his mind and what he has to gain out of all this. But there’s also this odd, buddy-comedy vibe the longer Venom and Eddie get to know each other. Venom is really more like a curious, impulsive five-year-old who grows a soft spot for Eddie and life on Earth.

It’s really fun to see Eddie and Venom figure out a balance as an anti-hero between doing the right thing and using any destructive means necessary to get the job done. And I really wish more of the film was like this.

I know audiences are miffed by the critics’ harshness, but despite how much I liked Venom, I can’t totally disagree that it’s so choppily edited together and some of the tonal dissonance is a bit distracting. The trailers and exposition build up a deep, dark study of Eddie’s character as he becomes more desperate to get the truth, breaks his fiancee’s trust, self-sabotages major chunks of his life, and passes the blame to Carlton Drake. But all that potential drama is wrapped up too quickly just to get to the action scenes, show off Venom’s powers, and Eddie going twitchy. Don’t get me wrong; I love some mindless action and Tom Hardy being silly, and Venom has a wonderfully aggressive fighting style. But the exposition drags when the built up themes around corruption, being an anti-hero, and the limitations of science just go no where.

I honestly have no idea what Riz Ahmed is doing as Carlton Drake. He’s somewhere between a stereotypical cartoon-y villain, but also wants to be taken seriously as a corrupt scientist without regards to morals. It’s one of the bits of tonal dissonance which just doesn’t work because sometimes you can’t tell when you’re supposed to be scared of him or laugh at him (especially when he lapses in logic like how his massive facility has only two inept security guards and no cameras). It’s hilarious to see him pull the cliches, and Ahmed’s working the best he can with the given material. But at the same time, you’re not sure what the hell the intention was behind this portrayal or if it suffered from the choppy edits. Again, it’s build up with no pay off, which sucks because the whole power and responsibility dynamic is super fun to see in Spider-Man villains.

The fight scenes suffer some of the worst edits as some of the CGI looks a bit too rushed out and plastic-y (though thankfully it doesn’t look like a video game which is more than I can say for Spider-Man 3). It’s also super obvious this was meant to be an R-rated film, but for some reason, they backed out and made it PG-13 at the last second and cut the decapitations. Given the rest of the film’s excess violence and adult themes, they honestly should’ve just gone all out. Screw the kids; just commit to a gritty, but funny anti-hero film.

And that’s the film’s biggest problem is its lack of commitment to one solid vision. It almost wants to follow the Deadpool formula minus the satire, but never goes full force in its ideas except for the two main characters’ interactions. It rushes over the character drama to get to all the action and big climax, and then it just ends. They definitely had another 10-20 minutes of content to squeeze in, but that was all cut just to get something out after over a decade in-and-out of pre-production. I can’t totally blame the studio since it was probably a bitch to work out the rights once Disney got a hold of Spider-Man and if this would technically be an MCU film. There is a dedicated team doing their damnedest to deliver something great with all their limitations, and the effort shows when you know where to look. And to its credit, it’s nowhere near the same level of dumpster fire like Suicide Squad or Justice League where they shoved so much shit in without rhyme or reason where I can’t even laugh at some of the bad stuff.

For all its flaws, it’s hard for me to hate Venom. The foundation is solid enough and if they commit to sequels, I hope they can learn from their mistakes to strengthen this new universe. I love Eddie and Venom’s interactions and their unique brand of anti-hero. The action is super fun and intense when it’s not too choppily edit. I love the little twist of comedy in an otherwise dark story. Hell, it’s one of the few instances I have an Eminem song playing on repeat. Those moments are definitely worth toughing out the slower and more ludicrous moments (especially the two end credits scenes). I’ll take “turd in the wind” over...

... that... any day.

If you’re looking for a super polished film and that great adaptation of a Venom origin story, this is probably not for you. But if you want to just shut your brain off to the Rotten Tomatoes scores and find another mindless guilty pleasure to enjoy, you’ll definitely get some great moments worth at least one viewing. Pick your poison, and see what you take away from it.

If you enjoyed this review and what I do here, consider buying me a ko-fi to show your support!

#venom #venom movie #venom marvel #eddie brock #marvel venom #marvel #sony #movie #movie review #movie reviews #review #reviews #my writing

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darkus-hades · 6 years ago

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Wicked Witch

Want an evil MC? This MC is a super evil girl. Enjoy!

MC name: Denisse

(For some reason weird symbols appeared in this... I tries to edit as best as I can, but there’s always some that somehow managed to sneak past me. Tumblr, I guess... Please ignore those symbols! I’m so sorry! Thank You!)

__________

The moment Sid opened his eyes, he already had a bad feeling about this place. He moaned as he sat up. He remembered that Denisse gave him a drink, and once he drank it, he felt the taste was a little odd. He felt pain behind his head, and before he could call for help, he felt himself falling onto the floor, unable to move any part of his body. The last thing he saw was Denisse’s beautiful brown eye, turned to wicked, bright red, her brown hair turned to silver, and her beautiful smile turned to a smirk, appearing a set of fangs.

He swore to himself how that he had fallen to Denisse so quickly. Now he woke up in an unknown room, that he swore to God that no one had lived in this place for decades, except those unrest souls.

“Are you awake now, Mister?” An angelic voice nearly gave Sid a heart attack.

He quickly spun around, facing a beautiful woman, dressing nothing but white, that is nearly transparent. She looks so beautiful and innocent... like an angel.

He continued to stare at her, wanting to feel her soft skin, kissing her beautiful lips, and her delicate breasts...

_____________

”Master...” I heard a whimper, but I choose to ignore it. Then another whimper came, “Master, please...”

I sighed and put down the pawn chest piece onto the board. “Come out,” I commanded.

A young woman, with light blond hair and dark blue eyes, clad in white, stepped away from the dark opening and into the lowly lighted room.

”Ruby,” I smiled. “What is the problem?”

Ruby bit her lip and lowered her head. I raised my eyebrow, waiting for her response. After a few minutes, Ruby finally whispered,”May I, Master?”

I blinked, confused about what she was asking from me. Then I smiled, suddenly realizing of what she wants. “Oh, you want to gain some slaves, huh?”

Ruby slightly nodded, “Please, Master...”

I picked up a bishop and a rook and put them in place, “Go ahead, but-” I looked back at her. “I have to choose the person you’re taking as your slave.”

Ruby nodded and smiled slightly, “Thank you, Master.”

_____________

Albert wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword as he walked in the hallway. He has been walking in this mansion for hours and there was no sign of King Byron. King Byron was reported missed several weeks ago. When they gathered information, they learned that Byron was kidnapped and in this mansion.

Suddenly he heard a giggle, that nearly scared the life out of him. “Al, you look hilarious when you’re so serious like this.” Nico giggled.

Albert rolled his eyes. Why is this brat here?

This mansion is a maze. Albert thought to himself. Every door leads to a room that looks exactly like other rooms in the hallway.

“Hey, Al, do you think this is different?” Nico asked, pointing at the end of the hallway.

It different pattern at the end of the hallway. Delighted, he rushed to the end of the hallway, which is a door. He pushed the door open and peer inside. Then he gasped.

The room was filled with several more doors and a table in the middle. Nico looked around the room as Albert walked to the table, where a piece of paper was placed on the table, faced-down.

Picking up the paper, he scanned through the content.

Dearest Knights of Stein,

How honored that I have you in my mansion. I know so much about you. I know that you two are one of the right-hand men of King Byron. I also learned that you, Sir Albert, are a very close friend to King Byron. Sir Nico, I knew that you are half-brother with King Byron. Let me tell you more about me. I enjoy playing games. Especially games that can cause people to suffer, to give them fear.

So, you see around you that there is total of eight doors. Each door leads to a different hallway. Don’t bother to look into each door, the hallway is going to look exactly the same. Before you join my game, here are the rules. Once you enter one of the doors, there will be instructions. The rule is simple, you have to follow each instruction. If you dare you to disobey the instructions... Let’s just say that each time you disobey, the life of you dear King will be shortened, depending how much years I’m going to shorten.

Worry not about you King right now, Sir Albert. He is fine. For now. So, you better hurry, because I don’t think your King would last long.

Good Luck, because you will need it.

Alexander G. Johnson

Albert felt his blood drained from his face as he read the letter. As he raised his head from the letter, and look around the room, trying to decide which door to go. Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him. He swirled around and found nothing. Then he felt someone breathing against his shoulder. He tensed as he felt a ghostly whisper, that sounded like a young man, clear and scary.

“Go quick, Sir Albert. Your King is waiting,” It whispered.

Albert gulped before asking, “Who are you?”

Nico looked back at Albert, “What?”

“Who are you? What do you need from me?” Albert asked again.

“Al? Are you-” Nico started when he felt a cold breath on his ear. “Your King is waiting,” It whispered.

Suddenly, a door swung open, revealing a hallway, just like the other hallways that they been through. Nico hesitated before he walked through the door.

“Nico!” Albert shouted, “You can’t be sure that isn’t a trap!”

Nico continued, ignoring Albert’s warning. Albert sighed, there’s no other way. He has to save King Byron. Without hesitation, Albert walked through the opened door.

_____________

I pulled out a knight and put it into place, and frowned. I felt something or someone behind me. Then my face lit up. Perfect.

I grabbed a pawn and set it down. “Alexander”. I breathed.

”Master...”I felt something like a hand on my shoulder. Then I felt another one around my waist. I rolled my eyes.

“You haven’t changed, have you, huh?” I stood up and walked across the ghostly figure.

Alexander chucked as he revealed himself. “Well, Master, you haven’t changed much either. Still smart as usual. And beautiful, like the beautiful full moon.”

I scowled, “Don’t ever compare me to that damn moon, you hear me.”

Alexander smiled, “My apologies, Master. But you have to admit, the moon is beautiful. Especially when it’s full.”

"Besides,” Alexander continued. “As your servant, part of my job is to compliment you, don’t you think?”

I grimaced, “Whatever. Just don’t compare me to that moon. Ever again.”

Alexander shrugged, “Whatever you say, Master.” Then he frowned. “You called me, for a reason, perhaps?” Alexander smiled, wider this time.

I rolled my eyes, “Yes, I did call you. But not what you’re thinking”

Alexander put a hand over his chest and pretended to look hurt, as I continued. “I want you to find those knights of Stein. I want you to capture him. Do whatever you want with them, but I want them alive. And in one piece.”

Alexander face lit up, “I can do whatever I want. That sounds great. I’ll do that.”

_____________

Cursing to himself, Giles walked along the spiral staircase. After he found out that the Princess had escaped the castle ground, he and group of knights, including Alyn are trying to track down the Princess. The information they found out was in this mansion, the same day, King Byron got kidnapped.

“Oi, Giles,” Alyn called from further down the stairs. “Mind if you got a bit faster? We’ll be stuck here forever if you continue to walk like that.”

“Stop pushing Giles,” Leo, standing next to Alyn, acknowledged. “He already knows-” Leo quickly shut his mouth after Alyn glared at him as if Alyn is going to strangle him.

Giles sighed. These two never change. Suddenly, he heard a slight whimper that sounds like from further down the stairs. Both Alyn and Giles got very quiet. Then Alyn break the silence, “Princess? Is that you?”

Then they heard another whimper, almost like an answer to Alyn’s question. Without hesitation, Alyn sprint down the stair, followed by several knights.

“Hey, Alyn!” Leo shouted as he chased after him. “Slow down! You’re going to trip and fell if you’re running like that!

Giles didn’t even bother to go downstairs. He felt like something was off. The whimper sounded more like an animal.

“Aren’t you going to go with him, “Giles heard a faint voice behind him. Giles tensed. He felt a shiver down his spine.

Giles slowly turned around. A young woman, with dark, wavy hair. Her skins are rich dark color. She looks like a goddess. Wearing nothing but black, from head to toe. Her eyes were covered from her bangs.

Giles gulped, “W-who are you?”

The young women pointed behind him. Giles turned around, finding nothing, and turned back to the young women, who was not there anymore.

“Come,”Giles heard the voice that belong to the young women, but instead down a little further down the stairs.

Giles blinked. He swore to god that she was behind him, now she’s somehow managed to pass him without him knowing.

“Who are you?” Giles asked in determination.

The women looked back at him, showing slight of her eyes, which is violet. “It doesn’t matter. This place is the last thing you’ll see.”

Giles gulped and stepped backward, until he bumped into something.

“It’s impolite to leave someone, especially if that person is a woman,” The young women whispered. “Follow me, and I’ll make sure you’ll live longer. But, this place is still going to be the last thing you’ll see.”

_____________

“Danielle,” I walked into my chamber.

Suddenly, a presence appeared not to far from me. “Master.”

I smiled, “I would like to change your job. And I want to make a deal with you.”

Danielle tensed up, as her hands clutched as a fists.. I smiled wider. Danae was my maid, and I know she doesn’t like to be a maid, especially working for me. I knew she would turn against me if she had a chance.

“Anything you ask, Master.”

I walked toward her as she tensed up. “If you do what I commanded, I’ll set you free. “Danae looked at me in surprise. “I want you to kill that Chamberlain. Make him suffer. Make him regret.” I grabbed her neck. “Make him regret that he dares to make me the princess. Make him regret to dare to command me to do what he wants me to do.” I snared.

Danielle whimpered as she gasped for air. Her eyes begged me to let her go.

“If you dare to betray me,” I warned. “I’ll kill you.”

I let go of her and walked out of my chamber and pulled a pawn out of my pocket and a bishop. I smiled. Now this is definitely something.

_____________

“Giles? Leo?” Alyn called. His voice echoed through the spiral staircase. After he heard a whimper on the bottom of the stair, he ran downstairs, only finding a dog, sitting at the corner, whimpering.

Alyn felt sudden furious toward the dog, tricking him into thinking it was the Princess. Instead of going back upstairs, he decide to wait for Giles and Leo. After a while, there was no sign of them.

Annoyed, Alyn called for Giles and his brother several time, but only answered by silence. Getting worried, he decide to go backstairs to find them.

Suddenly, the stairs vanished. “What the-!” Exclaimed Alyn. Instead of the stairs, it’s a hallway. The light only shown some part of the hallway, but Alyn couldn’t figure out how long is the hallway, since its so dark to see.

Out of nowhere, he saw two faint lights in the distance, which Alyn recognized it as eyes. Unsheathing his sword, he asked, “Who are you?”

The eyes seems to be moving toward him. Coming toward the light. Then, more eyes following behind the first pairs of eyes. Instead of a pair of eyes, it became thousand pairs of eyes.

As the owner of the eyes came into view, Alyn felt his blood drained from his face. The eyes belongs to tens of hundred of corpses. All of them groaned and moaned, limping toward Alyn.

On the back of his head, it screams to him to run, but his legs won’t corporate.

Suddenly, he heard something clicking, like a clock being turned on. Then a giant metal gate came down, separating Alyn and the corpses.

“Alyn, next time use your brain,” Alyn immediate recognize the voice belong to Leo’s.

Alyn scowled as Leo chucked.

I picked up the knight then when I’m about to place it where I want it to be, the board suddenly vanished. I blinked, then smiled. He’s here.

I called for James couple days ago to help me to get rid of someone. That knight Captain of Wysteria. I don’t really hate Alyn, but I just don’t want him alive, for no particular reason.

“My, my. Still beautiful as ever,” the voice whispered behind my ear.

Without hesitation, I grabbed his jaw as I slowly faced him. “I’m not going to joke around.”

“Of course, we can joke another time,” he winked.

I gripped his jaw hard, until he winced. “I’m going to make it simple,” I hissed. “Kill Sir Alyn, and I’ll pay you whatever you want.”

James opened his mouth to say something, but I immediately cut him off. “I’m not arguing or listening to your opinion, or whatever the bullshit you’re going to say. Kill him, then we can talk.”

I let go of his jaw and walked off without looking back.

“Why is she always like that,”I heard him talking to himself. Then he said, in a louder voice, “Hey, you still want you chess board?”

I stopped on my track, then looked back at him. “Definitely.”

_____________

Robert heard someone singing, but he could’t make out what it was singing. But the singer had such a beautiful music. He wanted to hear it everyday. Suddenly, the singer stopped singing, which caused Robert to opened his eyes. Why did she stop?

“Are you awake?” the singer asked. Even when she isn’t singing, her voice is very beautiful too.

Robert sat up, and looked at the singer. It was a women. A beautiful women. Both her voice and her appearance is beautiful... Robert could only see the head and the shoulder of the women. Robert stood up and walked toward the women, finding that she was in a pool.

Without warning, he heard a groan behind him. He turned around, only to find a man clad in black.

“King Byron?” Robert walked toward the man, then he gasped.

The King of Stein, that was kidnapped was now laying in front of him.

“King Byron!” Robert gathered the young king in his arm. Then he looked at the women. “What happened to him?” Robert demanded.

The women shrugged, “I don’t know, but he will be fine. I’m sure.”

Robert looked back at Byron, and gently shook him. “King Byron! Please open your eyes!” Robert plead.

Suddenly, the door creaked opened, and Robert hold his breath as he looked at the person who just walked in.

It was Rayvis, The archduke. Following him was Louis.

What is going on here? Robert wondered.

#midnight cinderella #byron wagner #nico meier #albert burckhardt #louis howard #rayvis harneit #robert branche #sid #giles christophe #alyn crawford #leo crawford #fanfiction #diaferiadhades

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erhiem · 3 years ago

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Seventy minutes of full brightness.

Indycan Entertainment

by Rob Hunter · Published on August 12, 2021

Science fiction, as a genre, is as broad and open as the stars above are gaseous and plentiful. With big action glasses (edge of tomorrow, 2014) to indie puzzle boxes (book of hymns, 2004), there are gems at both ends of the spectrum and everywhere in between. beyond infinity two minutes Belongs to that latter camp, and while many movies aren’t as smart as they believe themselves to be, this complex and immensely satisfying film is more than just brilliant.

cut (com)Kazunari Tosa) is an ordinary man with a simple life. He owns and runs a small cafe, and he lives in an apartment right upstairs. When the shop closes, heads upstairs, and the cafe is greeted by a face on a monitor attached to the bottom – it’s his own face, and he’s claiming to speak from two minutes into the future. . A brief dialogue exchange begins, and then Kato walks down to the monitor and talks to himself two minutes earlier. Soon the others are sucked into the time-bending mystery, but the more they push and pull over the edge, the more it spirals out of control.

“It’s like science fiction,” says one character in Absolutely Simple beyond infinity two minutes, and while they are right it is much more. credit goes to the author Makoto Uedais confusingly labyrinthine script, but as is the integral direction Junta Yamaguchi Which manages to capture the serpent nature of a film while twisting in itself as it progresses. It shouldn’t work, but it does, even if you’re wondering how they pulled the damn thing.

And did I mention that the filmmakers made it even more difficult for themselves by shooting the film as a single take with hidden (and not so hidden) edits?

beyond infinity two minutes Kato and the others follow as they move between the cafe and the apartment, and by the nature of it we see the same event playing out twice every time. The characters interact with themselves or others on the monitor and then we move them to the “future” and repeat the second part of the exchange. It’s a process that should feel repetitive or painstaking by all accounts, but it never does as the filmmakers and actors keep things feeling fresh and electric.

There is a real sense of wonder and awe at the discovery, but the characters quickly become resistant to the allure of the two-minute time loop and decide to see how far they can extend its reach. Like the rest of the film, his efforts display smart writing that provides just enough explanation to keep things tight while opening up new, unsettling possibilities. No spoilers here, but when the humans involved do things, their glimpses into the future are beyond their control with fascinating and often hilarious results.

This is something you wouldn’t necessarily expect in a science fiction movie, but beyond infinity two minutes Very funny too. A whip smart script is the beginning, but this is the cast who jumps in with both feet with expert comic delivery and some wonderfully exaggerated performances. Geeta Ishidahandjob aki asakurahandjob riko fujitani, and others. It’s not pervasive, of course, but they’re participating in a very Japanese style of comedy instead, and it serves to make their enjoyment their own – when you figure things out and you’re happy. Will smile, laugh and cheer them up what happens next. It’s probably a small thing in the face of the intelligence of the script, but these characters, these dudes, are so infectious in their enthusiasm and delight that you wish you were part of their circle.

However, the humor is tinged with some darker ideas, and while the themes are ultimately nothing new, there is a specificity to their delivery here. Looking to the future, even two minutes ahead, friends feel compelled to match that expectation. From what they have seen, they are “afraid of the paradox”, and they are pressured to make choices they don’t always want to make. As the grip of the future tightens, we also see characters created by the actions of the past, and this uncovers a vice grip many of us find ourselves in – interrupted by the past, Afraid of the future, and frozen in place.

beyond infinity two minutes A warm, funny and smart piece of science fiction. It is a time travel story about today that recognizes how important the past really is in relation to what is and remains to be done. Read nothing more about the film, and search for it. This is the seventy minutes of your life that you will not look back on with regret. (And be sure to live through the end credits as the behind-the-scenes footage reveals how they shot it.)