#I try so hard to always bring something fresh and original and creative to the table

[kimtaegis]

trying really hard not to be upset these days

[tuiccim]

Almost Had Me Believing It - Part 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader    

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: Angst, Discussion of drug addiction, mutual pining

Summary: An undercover operation playing Bucky Barnes’ wife is a dream come true. Playing house in the suburbs while trying to take down a drug ring brings you and Bucky closer but a nosy neighbor causes trouble in paradise.

A/N: This began as a drunk drabble for the HBC @the-ss-horniest-book-club  but the response has been overwhelming! I had originally intended to make a two parter but your enthusiasm for the setting has gotten my creative juices flowing and the story is coming together to be multiple parts. It will definitely be at least five. / Divider by @whimsicalrogers​

Almost Had Me Believing It Series Masterlist

You sit up in disbelief, “Bucky!” But he closes the door. 

Bucky immediately turns on the shower. He has to get some relief after the show you just put on. Good God, you were sweet. You had kissed him back as if you meant it and your body had cradled him like you were made to fit together. His cock was so hard it was painful. He was sure you had felt it as he had rutted against you. He was ashamed of his actions. When you had moaned he had nearly lost it. He knew you were only putting a show on for Frank, but he couldn’t keep himself from taking advantage and now he feels like the asshole he knows he is. Then the parting remark he lobbed at you as he retreated to the bathroom, he was sure cemented your loathing of him. Punishing himself, he strips and steps under the freezing cold spray.

--

You sit staring at the closed door. You aren’t sure for how long but, when you finally snap out of it, your movements are wooden. He had dropped you on the bed in the master bedroom. This was his room. You slept in another of the bedrooms. You had assumed since he brought you into his room he intended to finish what you had started in the living room, but now you felt sick as you realized he had only been playing the part. His parting remark had filled you with shame and as did the memory of calling his name as he walked away. You had been wanton, arching into him and moaning. Obviously, Bucky thought little of you.

In your room, you let your tears fall. For three weeks the two of you had tiptoed around each other. Shy smiles and conversation revolving around work had been most of your time together. You thought it was simply because he didn’t know you well, but now you understood that he didn’t want to. That was why he always kept you at arm's length. You tried to sleep, but the phrase he had thrown over his shoulder as he retreated to the bathroom haunted your dreams. 

You woke early the next morning feeling as if you hadn’t slept. You head to the kitchen, put coffee on, and gather ingredients to make coffee cake. You needed comfort food.

An hour and a half later the coffee cake was cooling on a rack, you were drinking your second cup of coffee, and Bucky had yet to make an appearance. A soft knock sounds on the front door and you open it to reveal your neighbor. 

“Morning, Frank.” You say, confused at his appearance. 

“Good morning. I come to beg a favor from a benevolent neighbor.” Frank grins winningly. 

“And what would that be?” You laugh lightly. 

“A cup of coffee. My pot runneth dry.” 

“Sure. Come in. I just made some coffee cake. Would you care for a slice?” You ask as you lead the way to the kitchen. 

“Sounds great, Suzie Homemaker.” Frank quips. 

“Hardly.” You motion to the table on one side of the kitchen and Frank takes a seat. You move to the counter, slice cake, and pour coffee for both of you. Arms wrap around you from behind and your eyes widen until you realize it’s Bucky. 

“Morning, Doll.” He hugs you from behind and kisses the side of your neck. 

“Morning, baby,” you sway in his arms before turning in them to grin at him. “Would you like some coffee cake?”

“Mmhmm,” Bucky’s mouth captures yours in an impassioned kiss and he begins to lift you as if to place you on the counter. 

“Babe, Frank’s here. He came by for a cup of coffee.” You pull away. Bucky knew Frank was there but he was continuing the show from last night. 

“Sorry, man. Didn’t realize.” Bucky grins at the man. 

“Don’t feel you have to stop on my account,” Frank chuckles. 

“I don’t like to share.” Bucky smiles stiffly. 

Frank laughs, “Can’t blame you. How’s work? What is it you do again?”

“Mechanic. It’s good. Business is steady. What do you do, Frank?” Bucky counters.

“Landlord. I own several properties that I rent out.” Frank accepts the plate of cake you set in front with a smile for you. “What do you do, gorgeous?”

“I’m in between jobs right now.” You say demurely, feigning embarrassment. 

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’ll keep an ear out for anything coming available. What did you do before?” Frank asks. 

Bucky pulls you into his lap, “She was a nurse, but she’s looking to get away from the medical field.”

“Why?” Frank digs. 

“No reason.” You say quietly. 

“Frank’s our friend, Doll. Maybe it would be good for him to know. Have someone else to help?” Bucky whispers in your ear loud enough for Frank to hear.

You nod and look at Frank with shame written across your features, “I’m an addict. Pain meds. I, um, lost my license because of theft. I went to treatment. Been clean for four months.”

“That’s one of the reasons we moved here. To get a fresh start.” Bucky squeezes you and you smile at him sadly. 

“I’m sorry you’ve been through that.” Frank looks as if the wheels in his head are turning. 

“Thank you.” You say. 

“No, thank you for the coffee and cake. I’ll let you get on with your morning.” Frank stands up. 

“Another cup for the long walk back?” You quip. 

“That would be great. Thank you.” Frank accepts the cup before heading home. 

When you return to the kitchen you sit across from Bucky at the table. “That was well done.”

“Yeah. You played that perfectly.” Bucky said.

“And you steered expertly.” 

Bucky looks at you surprised at the compliment, “Thank you.”

“Bucky, about last night…” you stare at him, biting your lip. 

“Yeah?” Bucky’s gut tightened remembering how he had taken advantage of you.

“What did you mean by that last comment?” 

“Comment?” Bucky was stalling, unsure of what you were asking. 

“The ‘you almost had me believing it’ comment. It… hurt. It felt like you were shaming me or something.”

“No! I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant it was convincing. That’s all.” 

“Oh, okay. Sorry, didn’t mean to overreact.” You fidget with your hands. 

“Are you okay? With what we did last night? I didn’t want to overstep…” Bucky trails off.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Nothing happened that I didn’t… It was fine. A good show, right?” You are near squirming in the chair remembering how he had kissed you and feeling his body pressed against you. You squeeze your thighs together.

“Right.” Bucky says but his thoughts were on how sexy you had sounded when you moaned his name and how much effort it took not to strip you naked in his bedroom. “So, um, what’s on the agenda for today?”

“Gardening. Planting gladiolus bulbs. You?” 

“I was gonna do some work on my bike. Maybe go for a ride.” Bucky smiles tightly. 

“Sounds good. I’ll see you later.” You put your cup and plate in the sink and head for the doorway. 

“Do you… wanna go on the ride with me?” Bucky asks suddenly. 

You turn back to look at him,  “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Okay.” He smiles.

“Okay.” You smile as you head to your room.

Part 3

Masterlist

Permanent: @bubbabarnes​ @badassbaker​ @thefridgeismybestie​ @strangersstranger​ @cherthegoddess​ @buckyluvrs​ @sherlocksmanwatson​ @cap-n-stuff​ @finleyjayne​ @caplanreads​ @connie326​ @daydreamerinadazedworld​ @bugsbucky​ @chrisevanscardigan​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @palaiasaurus64​ @rebekahdawkins​ @maaaaarveeeeel​ @tllynn15​ @learisa​ @jelly-fishy-babie​ @fistmebuckyskywalker​ @nerdy-bookworm-1998​ @liebs82​ @honestly-dontknow​ @a-really-bi-girl​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @baddie-barnes​ @aikeia​ @paleo-runaway​ @marvelgirl7​ @starlightcrystalline​ @xxloki81xx​ @slytherinambitious​ @sallycanwait68​ @slytherdorxmd​ @fangirlforever2412​ @rainbowkisses31​ @whisperlullaby​ @thejemersoninferno​ @thehumanistsdiary​ @supraveng​ @dispatchvampire​ @teamarvel @sxbby-barnes​

Almost had me believing it: @farfromjustordinary​ @iheartsebastianstan​ @7minutes-tomidnight​ @thechaoticargonaut @marylimlp​ @buckybarnesdevotee​ @janaienaae​ @its-a-simply-me-thing 

Strikethrough could not be tagged. 

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Just My Type: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 2 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Darkside

Main Masterlist

A/N: This chapter is 2K words more than the last chapter and I’ve second guessed every single line in this one. This story is getting a lot of traction guys and I’m equal parts happy and scared. Thank you for the nice comments, they do encourage me. Also I’m just ranting feel free to skip this note haha. Your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Also you can dm if you want to be friends, God knows I need those. Hopefully, this chap was worth the wait. Also, I made a poster for this on the main masterlist so check that out, it might be foreshadowing dome plot.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 2: Just My Type

It had almost been a week since the incident and you had barely gotten a wink of sleep. When you drove back to your house that night, Steve surprisingly didn’t argue as you had expected. After that friend of his whispered something in his ears, you only assumed he was needed elsewhere and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. They escorted you to your car and Steve thanked you with a strained smile, words genuine but eyes calculating. You didn’t even wonder what went inside his head. You were thankful for the peace and quiet of your own car, content to just get out of the area and into your humble abode.

After you put the already asleep Grace to bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of her room. You just sat on the floor beside the bed, hand intertwined with hers as you rested your head beside her tummy on the mattress.

Your adrenaline wore off and your limbs ached as your thoughts finally settled into place, the gravity of the catastrophe a few hours prior hitting you. Tears made their way down your cheeks as you realized that you both could have very well died tonight.

One bullet could have sealed each of your lives and you were basically defenseless had Steve not saved you against the creeping assaulter. You couldn’t commend yourself for even defending yourself against one attacker, the guilt of killing someone harboring in your tired head. Your quiet whimpers eventually wore you out, while Grace’s shallow breaths lulled you to sleep.

You didn’t manage to sleep for long though, every time your eyes closed, horrific images flashed in your mind. A blood curdling scream here, heaps of dead bodies there, with distant exploding sounds all around. You could see men clad in black holding guns to Grace’s head and whensoever you woke up, you just wondered how much more creative your mind could get, making these visuals so realistic.

When 8 AM rolled in, you didn’t wake Grace up even though it was Monday and you had work. You got up, changed into a long tee after a shower and called your office and then her daycare. You knew you would have a hard time going back to your normal life, to become trusting enough to leave her alone.

Your assumption about yourself was right. You took almost the entire week off, which your boss generously allowed you to after hearing your traumatic experience, which soon made the city news headlines. All your colleagues checked on you, almost once in the five day break you took, and sweetly enough offered to bring you anything you needed.

It was kind of them, but none of them could bring you what your heart genuinely craved: peace and assurance that you and Grace would be safe.

Even though Saturdays were off, you did go to work to see what you missed and where to start on again. You went in because you knew that the random spurt of resolution you got in the bathroom to collect your life, wouldn’t last.

To ease back into your normal life, you gathered your guts, called a babysitter and left home. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave Grace at the daycare just yet. One of your good friends offered to come in to the office and help you, even on the weekend and you were quite grateful to him.

When you both decided to take lunch in the nearby dining place, you both got to talking, the conversation obviously originating from ‘How have you been?’ and ‘Is Grace okay?’. You reminisced about how you used a photobooth to hide, grotesquely and uncomfortably chuckling when you remembered Sarah calling you her mom and how her dad saved you all.

You deliberately left the part where you killed someone and Steve shot someone too. You hadn’t come to terms with it yet and you stiffly restricted your mind whenever it tried to go down that lane.

He sensed how the conversation was becoming tense and distressing for you and briskly redirected the topic.

“I hope the dad was hot though?” He wiggled his eyes creepily and you snorted at his vulgarity, light for the first time in days.

“He was easy on the eyes; I will admit that.” You played along, recalling your girlfriends and how you used to ogle people.

“Don’t be a homewrecker though, I don’t support cheating.” He said nonchalantly, checking his phone as a notification bell rang off.

“He’s a widower.”

His eyes snapped up and met yours as his head tilted in confusion. “That’s a strange fact to know about someone you met for a few minutes.”

Steve’s even stranger comment about his dead wife popped in your mind and before you could stop yourself, you blurted that out as well.

“He even said and I quote, ‘She deserved what she got.’” He put his phone down, weirdly amused.

��Ooh Creepy! Do you think he is one of those husbands who kill their wives and bury them in the backyard? The podcasts always say that the psychopaths are visually handsome and charming. And his statement was quite vague and spooky.” He continued munching, and you felt that now Aiden was really paying attention unlike before.

“Steve did have a gun while searching for Sarah, come to think of it.” You drank your tea and awaited his response. What you did not expect was his eyes to widen and worry to cloud his features.

“Um Widower Steve with a toddler Sarah? At the place where The Vices attacked?” He mumbled, grabbing his phone and doing God knows what on it. Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could ask him what was up with his antics, he resumed.

“This is a long shot but I really hope your Steve didn’t look like this.” He positioned the phone in your vision, and you could already tell it was Steve by the sapphire blue of his eyes piercing through the screen into your soul. The picture was a month or two old, his hair was much longer when you met him than in the photo.

“This is him.” Your eyes met Aiden’s and worry visibly took over his features as his forehead creased and jaw tense.

He looked around the restaurant, finding it empty in the afternoon. He leaned and whispered, “This Steve of yours is dangerous.”

You interrupted Aiden, even though you already knew Steve was, the sight of his armed men still fresh in your head, and inquired, “Why do you say so?”

“It’s just like the fictional stories we hear from our parents, except here, in this city of ours, every myth holds true. There are really powerful men, untouchable by law, who reign the city silently and live luxuriously. Every shady, under the table deal you’ve heard of, transpires. Illegal trades, fraud schemes and bounty hunters are not fictional, they exist here. These men kill whatever hinders them and trust me, you don’t want to be the deer caught in their Jaguar’s headlights.”

Ice froze in your veins again, resembling the fear you felt that night but now because of your deemed ‘savior’. You convinced yourself that you had not wronged him in any way, instead had saved his daughter’s life.

“Are you in contact with him? If you are, distance yourself cleverly, don't block him immediately.”

“No, we just parted ways near my car, he thanked me for Sarah and was called away. It’s almost been a week and he hasn’t reached out if that’s what you mean. We didn’t exchange contacts and I don’t think I even told him my full name.” You explained yourself as if you were on the witness stand in court, trying to convince yourself more than Aiden.

“Pray that he doesn’t remember you more than that, if at all. I’m being totally honest here in telling you this, I’m genuinely worried for you and Grace. You are smart but he is powerful. He has unimaginable resources and if you become more than a speck of dust on his windshield, you are screwed. There is no exaggeration here.” You took his words to your heart and swore to be careful, if not for yourself then for Grace.

The rest of the day went by and you found yourself dwelling on and worrying about Aiden’s words. At least he put it out there as it was. Heeding his advice, you did google Steve on your phone, finally finding him in the topmost news headline when you added ‘Buck’ in the search bar as well.

‘With 38 lawsuits pending against businessman Steve Rogers, the filers have lost all hope in prosecuting him. All cases are being drawn out for indefinite periods of time by the Chief Justice Bruce……’

Aiden was right.

Businessmen was code for illegal mob heads. Cases being stretched on meant he was, in fact, invincible, at least to the common man’s fists.

You flickered through several titles, each one more surprising than the last. He was believed to be involved in the carnival attack, alleged for three hit and run cases that he didn’t lose but the witnesses swore they saw him driving and was also rumored to have brought in quintals of drugs just last week, but the packets just evaporated into thin air and there was no proof of their existence in the first place even on incessant searching.

Every crime of his made you shudder and you mentally thanked Aiden for pulling you out of your oblivion. Your mind raced and heart palpated and you cursed yourself for being so drastically unaware even after living here for almost four years. Technically speaking, Steve and you were even, him saving your life and you saving his daughter’s. No logical reason came to your mind for him contacting you ever.

You wished as Aiden said and assured yourself that your paths would never cross again, Steve not having reached out in a week, so hopefully never again.

That thought went out the window when you reached home to find a box awaiting you. Hannah, the babysitter you had called, informed you it came around 5 in the evening and was exclusively to be opened by you today.

Your mind raced as you paid the babysitter, your hands sweaty as you tried not to think about the gift and its sender. There was an apparently clear answer to who mailed it but you refused to accept that, courtesy of Aiden.

The box was of the height of Grace, it was black with red hearts painted across it; some red roses also sparingly adorned it. You opened the lid and found tons of red tissues and a multi-flower bouquet adorned with mostly red roses and a few purple and pink flowers.

Because of your frequent gardening in your backyard, you knew all the flowers’ meanings. To sum it all up, red flowers, especially roses were used for courting someone. Pink meant admiration, purple for beauty and you knew the ‘violet’ flowers were for loyalty.

As your nerves increased tenfold, you willed yourself to get it over with and empty out the box first, ignoring the little card in your bouquet, saving the ‘best’ for last. You find a mini bouquet inside but unlike yours, it had chocolates of every kind. You did read its card and cringed when it was for Grace, bothered not by the deed but by the doer.    

Further inside were some animal plushies, face masks, perfumes, scented body lotions and shampoos. Your head hurt thinking about the ‘single mother care package’ delivered to you by someone you refused to acknowledge.

As Grace sat in her playpen occupied, you dared to pick your card and read its message, your heart beating unrealistically fast for someone who refused to accept the cruciality of her situation.

~

I can’t thank you enough in this lifetime for saving my little princess. The gift of your help is more than anything money could ever buy for me. Please accept this invitation of mine for dinner tomorrow night, 7PM at La Bonne Nuit, as a symbol of my sincere gratitude for everything you’ve done. I’ll gets the kids covered and pick you up, you just be ready and look as amazing you always do.                                                                                           Sincerely,                                                                      Steve Rogers

                                                                                            ~

You stilled as you read it over and over again.

An invitation, your ass. Even in writing his authority portrayed, there was no question and hope for you coming, he just stated that you’d come. Looking pretty as always? You just met him once, in the middle of a calamity, covered in dirt and blood.

All the red roses and gifts screamed his romantic interest but you illusioned yourself into thinking they meant gratitude. You wouldn’t be able to digest it all otherwise.

Knowing what you knew now about Steve, you understood there was no denying the dinner tomorrow. You had to get out of his clutches and distance yourself, but as Aiden had so rightfully said, cleverly.

That night you laid in bed mulling over your next course of actions. You had called the gift shop to return the unwarranted presents you received but they said it was non refundable and anonymous to trace. You bitterly snorted in their face, they put a card with Steve’s name on it for heaven’s sake!

You didn’t flinch even when you realized you never gave Steve your address, neither for mailing stuff nor for picking you up. There was no number given to call him and thank or to call him and deny. The bastard had planned it all out, and you felt like you were driving in a one way lane, going deeper into the tunnel. Somewhere among your all-relentless fretting, you managed to finally sleep.

 When the doorbell rang, your eyebrows furrowed. It was just 6 PM and you weren’t expecting anybody else except for Steve. You had already begun getting ready, having developed a habit of keeping an extra margin of time now having a toddler. You still had to assemble Grace’s essential backpack, fill it with her meds and bottles.

While still putting on your diamond earring, you made your way to the door, unlocking it to find a redhead grinning at you. Before you could interact with her, a small body clung to your legs and you looked down to find the azure eyed kid that put you in this mess, Sarah, smiling up at you.

“Mama! You look pwetty!” She looked up in awe and now aware that she didn’t have a mother, you were even more so coerced into accepting this title rather than telling the kid that 'you are semi orphaned'.

“I’m Wanda, Sarah’s nanny. Mr. Rogers told me to pick her friend, Grace, up for the night?” So, this was what Steve meant. Bringing Sarah was proof enough of her legitimacy, but behind her you saw ‘Buck’ salute you from the driver’s seat of the black car. One of these days, you needed to learn his real name.

You invited Wanda inside and Sarah ran to Grace immediately, grabbing and whining while asking Grace to give her some popcorn she was munching on, her fist generously full.

In your open plan kitchen, you grabbed two plastic bowls, filled them with each with the tub of popcorn that sat in the microwave and handed each toddler one, fortunately quietening Sarah. Sarah obeyed Grace, in first thanking you, their ‘mama’ and then following her to her open playpen.

You faced Wanda again who sat on a barstool and kept on beaming. If your annoyance at her amusement showed, she sure didn’t let it falter the smile.

“Mr. Rogers told me you’d worry about your daughter, but I assure you she’d be in more than capable hands.” All you could focus on was how self-reassured she was. “I’ve served him for almost two years, the last family I served, I was there for 8 years and before them, I was employed for 3. I know the general bedtime and snacks, all I need from you is information about her allergies.”

You nodded and told her about Grace, her meds and what all you packed. When you got to know that her family owned the daycare Grace went to, you were finally somewhat convinced. After seeing them off, it was about fifteen minutes later, that the devil disguised in Prada showed up at your door.

You grabbed your purse and your keys. Wiping your sweaty palms on your dress, you opened the door. Steve stood there, a smirk lodging on his handsome face. His blue, three-piece suit perfectly paired with his cerulean eyes was impressive to say the least.

He was dressed to kill, and it appeared as if you were his first victim.

As your eyes took him in from top to bottom, his did the same lazily, taking their time, resting at certain places for longer period than others.

“You look stunning.”

You knew you did. You wore one of your more expensive dresses when you found out La Bonne Nuit to be one of the few seven-star hotels in the country. In hindsight, if you’d have dressed worse, maybe he’d have left you alone.

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?” He offered you his hand and you obliged with your palm in his. Your other hand pulled the doorknob while you stepped out, all alarms already set-in place. He waited while you locked and put the keys in and when you were done, with a soft kiss along your knuckles, he pulled you along.

The act surprised you, your stomach turning and your gut wrenching and you wondered if you’d be able to process the food after all, with your upset digestive system.

Like a proper gentleman, he opened the door for you and when you settled, he took his position at the driver’s seat. The silence was painful for you, your overthinking finally filling ideas in your head that you avoided contemplating about all day, focusing on Grace.

He was relaxed though; his humming was proof enough.

Mid way through, your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a hand housed itself on your knee. You glanced to find Steve’s palm slightly rubbing your knee. If it was meant to be assuring, you certainly didn’t feel like it.

You frowned and looked up to Steve who still had the arrogant smirk on his face, eyes straight ahead on the road, giving no indication of his inappropriate touching.

You wanted to swat his hand away but a brainwave dashed through your head and a disturbing thought made you halt, that whether he carried guns to restaurants as well, since carnivals were no big deal.

You ignored his hand and continued looking outside, pretending to ignore it as well as he did. Your scowl was a huge giveaway though.

You didn’t know that, but when your eyes found their way out, his finally rested on your face, the smirk growing even more.

Thankfully, apart from the incongruous touching, the dinner went okay-ish. The food and wine were impeccable, perfect even, the restaurant on the hotel’s top floors was so picturesque. You tried to savor your one-time experience there, knowing you’d no way be able to come back there.

Well, you tried to relish as much as you could while your mind still sat there, wary of the human in front of you. If you’d ignore your journey here, Steve was nothing short of a true gentleman, often making you wonder if you had imagined his hand on you.

This ‘friendly’ date you were having was probably one of the best you have had, he had left no expenses. He appeared to be interested in your work, about your childhood and about Grace’s but you swiftly avoided his questions about her father. He was growing a tad bit too comfortable for your liking and you still refused to entertain the idea that this was a ‘date’ date.

When you were finally onto dessert, the last course of your meal, your table was shadowed by the broad frame of a brunette and his date. He clapped Steve’s shoulder and Steve rose to hug him, you awkwardly smiled.

“It’s been far too long since you’ve been here, Cap. Why don’t you and your gorgeous date stop by my penthouse for a bit? We could finally go over the papers you sent me, in person?” He winked, they discussed something more and then went away, his date bowing and trailing after him as well.

Steve claimed his seat again, and finally told you about the interrupter. “That was my good friend, Tony Stark, always in a hurry. I’ll introduce you to him when we meet him later.”

“I think I’ll be heading home; you need not worry about my introduction, I hardly think we’ll ever run into each other again.” His eyes narrowed and you clarified, “Me and Mr. Stark, I meant.”

That’s good, don’t associate yourself with more of his kind.

“He was so kind in inviting you though, it would be rude to refuse.”

“It’s already late, Steve. And I’ve never left Grace alone for a night yet. What if she’s antsy? What if she is bothered? What if she feels unsafe? She's only used to very few people, and after last week, I-” You had started the sentence hoping to use Grace as an excuse but every word of yours succeeded in making you more apprehensive.

The carnival night flashed in your mind, along with the nightmares and you started panicking even more. Your hands clammy, your dessert spoon fell in your lap as sought your phone in your purse, hoping to call Wanda for an update. You felt like a terrible mother, who left her child with a stranger, only a week after she suffered trauma, just to go on a date with a mobster.

Steve reached across the table and grabbed your fidgety hands and as you wriggled to get your hands free, he softly called your name. Voice stern but vocals gentle. Your blurry eyes snapped to meet his while he guided you to breathe deeply, in and out.

His firm hold convinced you to listen to him, you’d never free yourself of them otherwise.

When you had calmed a bit, he withdrew his hands and fetched his phone. Your thoughts slowed down, and you wondered if anyone here was judging you. Your little scene, mercifully, went unnoticed by the other affluent people dining here.

Steve handed you his phone where four colored frames rested, the screen showing you Grace and Sarah cuddled in a frilly, pink four poster where Wanda sat too, her lips moving.

The feed was live and the screen muted, both the toddlers’ eyes fluttering close slowly, on the bridge of sleep.

You handed the phone back to Steve and drank your water while he rubbed circles on the back of one of your hands. You never freaked out like you did right now, always collected and never giving into anxiety. What had happened to you?

Well, In your defense, you had never experienced a disaster either.

“The kids are safe; I’m never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

Your mind did catch the plural in his statement but you promised yourself you would not let it get that far and continued drinking your water, emptying the entire glass.

“The HD image you just saw was by cameras Tony recently developed. His technology is amazing, I’ll take you to his lab sometime.” You appreciated his attempt to redirect the topic but you also focused on how tech-savvy his friends were as well.

You hummed and agreed, trying to be ambiguous with your answer.

When you finished your dessert, you hoped he’d forget about his ‘friend’ Tony but to no avail.

“His penthouse is two floors above. He owns this hotel as well in case you didn’t notice.” He led you to the elevator as you recalled the Starks Group logo you saw earlier sometime.

Some AI named Jarvis opened the elevator doors for you in the living room of Tony’s penthouse. It was even more magnificent than the restaurant earlier, the place illuminated by several hues of different colours. Steve chuckled and strung you along, introducing you to a ginger-head named Pepper, who was Tony’s date earlier and went to search for his acquaintance.

She offered you wine but you politely declined, opting for water instead. She brought your glass to you from the extravagant kitchen and you both sat on the barstool there instead of the living room. Too anxious to say the wrong thing, you stayed quiet until her voice filled the deafening silence.

“So, Steve almost never brings dates around. You two serious?” She questioned, leaning towards you, waiting for some gossip, no doubt.

“Oh no! We aren’t dating. He just invited me for a friendly dinner. We merely met the other week.” You deliberately left out the part where there was bombing by crime families and attack on the common man.

“Honey, in the mob life, you don’t just introduce random people to the fam.”

Oh, she wasn’t being shy about the whole mob ordeal. It seemed weird to hear it from her, since you and Steve hadn’t used the word yet. Maybe he figured you already knew considering the circumstances you met in or how famous he was.

“We really aren’t romantically involved. This dinner was just a gesture of gratitude if I’m being truthful.”

She chuckled, as if you were a kid making stories and quizzed, “Gratitude for what?”

You trapped yourself into that one. You didn’t know how to answer her and your brain downright blanked. Surprisingly,, Steve came to your rescue and two voices interposed your conversation.

Steve called your name and as you turned to the men, he continued, “She’s the one who saved Sarah the other night. You know the story, Wilson probably got it printed.”

“Impressive, really. Hey, I’m Tony and I see you’ve already met Pepper, my fiancée.” He shook your hand and kissed your knuckles, much like Steve did earlier in the day. You bowed, smiled and mumbled a ‘nice to meet you as well’. They escorted you to the elevator and Tony continued.

“Well, it’s not everyday Steve brings brave and extraordinarily attractive women around. Welcome to the family, sweetie. She’s a keeper, Cap.” He winked while saying the last sentence and before you could correct him, Steve ushered you inside the elevator, bro-hugging him. As the doors closed, Pepper winked at you from behind Tony and a shudder ran through you.

Okay you had to make it clear, get on the same page.

As the elevator music filled the silence, you started, “Steve, look we aren’t-”, “I served in the army, that’s why Tony calls me Cap, short for captain.” And crudely got interrupted.

“I never wanted to get into the army, I thought people were fools to sacrifice the one life they got. But I went to make my mother’s dream a reality, I really loved her, you know? Sarah is named after her, my mother.”

His voice broke at the end and as much as you wanted to redirect onto your former topic, you couldn’t. This amiability of yours would be the death of you.

“She died alone in her bed; I was dispatched too far away to even make it back for her funeral.” He mumbled but you heard him clear as a sunny day, and he leaned back onto the wall for support while you awkwardly rubbed his shoulder to return the support he provided earlier during your mental breakdown.

He closed his eyes and gathered himself, taking deep breaths. As the elevator dinged, his eyes opened and he gave you a strained smile.  

The car ride to his mansion was painfully silent, his mind too sidetracked to focus on harassing you again. With all that you went through today, you almost forgot about that.

His mansion was enormous, twenty guards stood outside and even more patrolled the lawn. He took you inside his house, the interior even more detailed and scenic than Tony’s temporary residence.

You just concentrated on swiftly getting Grace and Uber-ing back. As Steve showed you earlier, Grace and Sarah hugged and slept and it was a meticulous task to untangle their limbs without waking either of them up andnd get Grace with her back-pack. You thanked Wanda on the way out, hoping to avoid Steve but somehow he stood outside before you, leaning on his sleek black car. He opened the door for you before you could refuse the ride. You settled with Grace in the backseat itself, trying to be smart.

He just summoned one of his guards to drive and sat alongside you in the back. You didn’t let the annoyance at his clinginess show though. You just focused on Grace who drooled over your shoulder.

Hopefully, there won’t be any point of exposure to him ever again, your circles didn’t match, both social and professional. Your Venn diagrams didn’t overlap anywhere. This should be reason enough to avoid meeting ever again.

He didn’t try anything even this ride around. You doubted it was hardly because of the toddler or because of the driver. He did as he pleased, if he wanted to he could very well grope you. Luckily, he wasn't in the mood.

When you reached your dwelling, you stepped out hastily, thanking him in a whisper. You fumbled to get your keys out, but since everything you held slowed you down, he caught up with you without even trying.

He took and held Grace’s bag while you drew the keys out, Grace still on your hip. He handed you the bag back, “So this is it, I guess?”

“Yeah, tonight was a total delight. Thanks for the dinner and everything, really.” You put up your best façade, hoping to convince him.

“It was, thanks to you. The company matters the most.”

You awkwardly chuckled and you sensed him leaning in, his eyes flickering shut. Your eyes closed as you turned your head to avoid him, so that his lips would peck your cheek.

They never came.

Your eyes opened to find his and he chuckled, leaning in once again swiftly, catching you off guard this time. He didn’t meet your lips though, he kissed the corner of your mouth, lips overlapping for a fraction of skin.

“In due time, baby.” He stepped back and strolled to his car leisurely, content in his own world.

You opened your door and slammed it shut, the peck feeling wrong on so many levels. It felt more sensual than a lover’s kiss, leaving room for intimacy and longing.

Your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers an hour, the most absurd but nauseatingly true being, this was a date and it was not your last encounter.

Steve smirked outside in his car, the dinner an absolute success in his opinion. Tonight just made him feel that you both were more than compatible for each other. You needing him during your mental breakdown, him relaxing under your shy touch, Tony’s approval, not that important though, and your anxiety for Grace was the best part, because he, more often than he’d like to admit, fussed about Sarah the same way, agonizing and fretting her well being.

A text lit up his black screen and his grin widened even more if possible.

‘The Stark cameras are up and working, Sir.’

[princecharmingmendes]

Heart by Heart | Chapter I | Raul Mendes

                                           *secret agent AU*

Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.

Helloo, this is the first chapter of this series and I'm super excited about it. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don't feel comfortable with the contents listed on the "warnings" section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the "fic rec" hashtag on my blog. I plan on posting a chapter weekly, which means new chapter every Thursday (and maybe a sneak peak every monday). Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like it as much as I did. I'll stop rambling now, byee. Happy Reading!

                                                     masterpost | next chapter

*Word Count: 3.4K+;

*Warnings:  cursing, descriptions of violence, blood, injuries, hostage situation and a whole lot of teasing. Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings. 

*Posted: July 1st, 2021.

                                                     -*-

Raul Mendes was a pain in the ass. Y/N loves him way too much for her own good, but he was a pain in the nonetheless. 

He was the only person she knew who could be in a possible life-or-death situation and still make fun of her through their communicators. And sure, that made the whole thing lighter and less scary, and sure, he was the best agent she’s ever met, but damn did he get on her nerves. And Raul always knew how to get her frustrated or squirming, he enjoyed it more than he was willing to admit. Sure, they’ve been friends for a long time and she should be used to him, but it never got easier. The fact he had a killer smile, the looks of a legit greek god and had this whole tough guy exterior, but secretly had a soft spot for her did not make her case any less complicated.

Y/N and Raul knew each other ever since they’re basically born. Their parents met when they worked together at a company of secret agents, it was only a small corporation back then, and they were known as the best agents at the time. After they retired from field missions and eventually desk jobs, they became only advisers and emergency contacts. But despite that, they kept their friendship going though all the years and that’s how Y/N was introduced to the triplets. They’re always together, doing everything with each other and protecting themselves. And of course she loved Peter and Shawn with her whole heart, they’re like family to her, but Raul was different. Y/N wished it wasn’t, but there are certain things in life you can’t exactly control. Like falling in love with your best friend.

And it’s not like she stood a chance, to be honest. Regardless of his looks, he treated her like she hung the moon and stars on the sky. Sure, he was a tough guy, who rode motorcycles and wore leather jackets, and wouldn’t admit alive that he cried while watching Lion King. But he took care of her when she was upset or having a bad period, he would take her driving around town at midnight on random occasions just because he knew it would make her feel better, and would always be so mindful of everything involving her. And yeah, he teased her endlessly, but it was part of it and in reality, Y/N didn’t mind it that much. 

So when they started growing older and decided to follow their parents career, it only made sense they trained their asses off and got the job together. The company their parents worked for grew a lot, a team that was originally formed by 15 agents turned into a massive business, with over 100 employees, doing various functions. Shawn was picked for a more diplomatic field, always in meetings with important people and traveling around the world. Peter became a tech engineer, developing the coolest gadgets and weapons imaginable, something out of Totally Spies! Raul was clearly a field agent, an expert on body combat and weapons, best out of the four when it came to their physical test. And Y/N was the one who guided the operations, the hacker and responsible for strategies, also for the tech part and best sniper out of the three of them. 

That made her and Raul an unbeatable team and the best duo ever. Their chemistry on the field was recognized by their bosses on the first week, basically glueing them together for every future mission and it worked. For the company. But it only dug her little crush deeper on Y/N’s heart. And obviously no one knew it. She was a spy for fucks sake, she knew how to lie and she wasn’t going to be the one to tell him. Raul didn’t date, working on this field made  everyone’s love life a bit harder than it was already, and he never seemed interested enough in anyone with the same career to have a long lasting relationship with. That didn’t mean there where a lot of people interested, which made Y/N’s heart twist in her chest. 

“Sweetheart, you still with me?” Raul’s voice came through her earpiece bringing her back to reality.

“Of course I am, you idiot, I take this job really seriously” Y/N replied rolling her eyes as if she didn’t just daydreamed a bit. 

“Oh sorry, doll, didn’t mean to insult you hard working” he chuckled “but could you please check in the corridor number 6, half the team is heading down there right now”

“Sure” she quickly typed on her computer changing cameras really quickly, perks of being Peter’s best friend is that she could usually take extra stuff and the newest gadgets on the market “It’s clear and, by the way, you look pathetic with this glasses”

Raul laughed clearly amused, throwing his middle finger up in the air in the direction of the security camera he found “Oh really? Tell that to Peter, he’s the one who created them” 

“Technically their still a prototype, so make sure to let him know”

Raul scoffed playfully as he climbed another set of stairs, the man and woman with him following without questioning, used to his ways of leading “Of course, I’m sure he’ll like to hear your fashion critiques to his million dollar glasses”

“I’ll write it down, now careful, you’re approaching the level where they’re at”

“Sure, mom, I’m always careful” he said in a hushed tone signaling to his teammates to keep quiet and try to find the possible security team they left to watch the hostage.

“Shut up” Y/N said trying to hold back the smile from stretching her lips, already letting the airway team know to be ready to pick them up as they approached their target. 

They’re currently in the middle of a mission where they needed to recover another agent who got caught up in an ambush two weeks ago, and now they’re being kept as a hostage. Raul’s leading a team to retrieve the agent as quickly and as silently as they could, two with him and three other on the opposite side to meet halfway. All that while Y/N’s on the under construction building across the street seated among her gear, gun in hand following their every step and guiding them through the camera system and the big windows that other building had. It’s not the worst mission they’ve ever been, no apparent violence or blood bath, just a simple rescue mission, but they still felt a little jittery and always worried about each other’s lives. And through the years, they noticed that their copying mechanism to make this less stressful (at least a tiny bit) was through light banter and jokes. That somehow brought a bit of normality to their very non ordinary job. 

Y/N did her best to keep them hidden while they crashed into the building as quietly as possible, trying go unnoticeable since they didn’t have enough munition or people on the tactic team. It would also prevent them from moving the target around or opening fire. And despite the fact Raul kept on trying to joke around and that she’s been doing this for at least four years, the fact that they’re working with a less experienced and fresh out of the academy crew made her a little jittery. Not that she didn’t trust Raul to command everything and boss everyone around if things got messy, she just didn’t want him to get in the middle of a crossfire again. 

He had the terrible habit of playing the hero in the most inconvenient times, like when they were little and a guy twice his size, with three friends mocked her pigtails. He didn’t stand a chance, but he went after them anyway. They ended up having to run as fast as they could so they wouldn’t end up with a black eye or something. And that was nothing compared to the stupid shit he could do on field. And Y/N couldn’t be more pissed whenever he came home with more bruises then he should just to play Superman or something. Sure, that was admirable and the fact that he put everyone on his team on his top priority was definitely something fantastic for a captain, but not for Y/N’s heart. 

And for that reason, she was always extra careful, but when he had a newbie joining him on the field, Y/N tripled the attention to avoid putting the kid in danger, and, consequently her best friend. 

Raul was quick to take down two man on their level without raising much alarm, grabbing their munition, dragging the unconscious bodies away from where they’d be easily seen and moving forward to another set of stairs. He was a very skillful agent, with great physical development and worked great under pressure, with quick thinking and a natural leader. So it didn’t shock her when he was able to do that as if it was the most natural thing in the planet. While Raul was more of a passionate person, Y/N was more rational, was analyzing every possibility and coming up with creative solution, she was also really cold on work (she just had one exception) and was a quick thinker, great person to rely on. It’s almost as if the complimented each other and that’s why it worked. That’s why when she tells him to shoot, he does without thinking, or to jump, he wouldn’t blink before doing it head first. 

And that’s why they’re able to reach the hostage without much trouble. 

“Told you to chill out, I knew we could make it” he murmured through their coms and she giggled, shaking her head incredulously.

“You should watch the entrances while your teammates take care of the hostage”

“That’s why I have you, sweetheart” he said with his infamous smirk stretching his annoyingly pink lips.

Y/N shook her head when she felt her face warming up a bit, stupid boy “Well, actually I’m pretty busy calling for our ride, so watch your own back this time, you’re a big boy, I’m sure you can do it”

Raul scoffed but did as she say either way “fine, are we clear?”

“On your floor yes, climb three more levels and meet me on this side of the street, don’t stall champ, they’re going to notice there’s something wrong with the cameras and their man who aren’t responding, so be quick”

Raul chuckled as he helped balance the hostage on Roman’s arms and signaling them to climb the stairs again “Yes, ma’am, anything to keep you from frowning and scolding my ass”

Y/N rolled her eyes smiling, sighing in relief that half of their mission was done and it went as smoothly as it could have been “Great, now get your ass out of there now, Raul” 

The tactic team started moving to the floor they’d have access to jump, and everything was going too smoothly to be true, not even a minor inconvenience. And that was not normal, at all. That’s when Y/N started getting worried. 

Everything was great until Seth, from loosing a lot of blood and being severely dehydrated, started loosing his conscious, making Roman’s job a lot more complicated and making everyone move slower. And while that was happening, Y/N saw when one of the guys saw his partners laying limply on the corner of a hallway and finally the pieces clicked. Luckily she was able to caught it quickly enough to be able to mess up their coms, so instead of a dozen men, they’d have to deal with two. She was also quick to let Raul know, so he jumped into action, telling everyone to rush and grabbing Seth’s right side, basically carrying him alongside Roman up the stairwell. 

But as they’re almost reaching the door, Raul heard footsteps rather close, rushing Roman up the rest of the way, warning he’d be right behind him, that he was only to be a bit far back so he could hold whoever was coming. 

He ran downstairs, quickly blocking the door to the staircase with a fire extinguisher, running all the way upstairs to reach his teammates and jump to go home. But as he had just reached the door, his colleagues waiting for him with their gear (and also his) ready to cross to the other building, he felt the barrel of a gun touching the back of his head. Raul raised his hands in surrender, his teammates staring at him with horror in their eyes as they aimed their guns to whoever was behind him, but he knew they couldn’t do much before he got shot. He also knew they’re too young, apart from Roman and Cara, who were both holding Seth up, they weren’t experienced enough to do something like that. But before the person could pull the trigger, they grunted in pain and Raul felt the barrel slipping away. 

He turned around to watch the guy on his back in the floor, clutching to his left ribs, a little pool of blood already forming underneath him and gun long forgotten. Raul looked around to see if it was anyone from this guy’s side or anyone on the stairs, only to be met with silence and a single security camera with the green dot on, meaning Y/N was still in their system. He shook his head in disbelief, dragging the whining man outside of the room, quacking his gun down the stairs and managing to lock the door so they could escape safely. 

“Still with me, baby?” Y/N’s voice teased mimicking the way he said it earlier. 

Raul shook his head with a smirk on his lips, before moving to where his teammates stood still a bit shocked with all that happened in front of them “Wouldn’t dream of leaving you, sweetheart”

“Alright boys, the helicopters are coming for us, meet you all on the roof in three” Y/N said through the coms for the whole team, quickly shifting to a line only the captain, Raul, could hear “and if you dare be late just to make a big entrance or another dramatic scheme you can think about, I swear to God I’ll leave you behind”

“You wouldn’t dare”

“Try me” Y/N sing sang picking up her stuff and quickly shoving them down in her backpack, gathering the rest in her hands before turning around to climb to the rooftop. 

As she climbed the last set of stairs, Y/N saw their helicopters approaching as the seven agents she was waiting for used a special gun to shoot a line to her building, before locking them in place before zip-lining their way to meet her. She helped Seth, the agent that was kept hostage climb up the little wall since he was in a pretty bad shape, throwing his arm across her shoulders and basically dragging him to where they thrown the stair to climb up to the helicopter with the medical team waiting for him. Cara and Roman climbed first since they’re going to report what they saw and assist Seth as best as they could. Roman grabbed him and the rope stair, shouting to pull them up so he could be taken care of. 

Raul was the last one to arrive, as always staying behind to insure everyone got there safely and no one would try to kill them or anything. He graciously climbed the all as if it was nothing, pulling the gun from the string and cutting it so no one could follow them up there that quickly. Raul told everyone to climb onto the helicopter and they’re quick to follow his order, only one person stubbornly waiting for him, as always. He held back the relieved smile from stretching across his features, noticing how warm and relaxed he felt only by seeing Y/N standing besides the hope ladder. She looked worried, a frown on her beautiful face and Raul wanted to smooth his fingers over it as if it would ease all of her troubles away.

She nodded as soon as he was close enough, Raul being quick to pick up the heavy backpack she was carrying and leaving the rest to her “Are you okay?”

“What? Of course, Why do you ask?” he knew why she was asking, hell, his heartbeat was still a bit too fast to be normal, and yeah, partially was because he was standing in front of Y/N, but on the other hand he almost got killed. She only arched her brow at him and he sighed in defeat “Of course I am, doll, you know me, I’m always okay” 

“That’s what’s scares me the most” she said with a sad chuckle and started climbing the rope ladder to the helicopter and Raul was quick to follow behind.

“Dude, that was insane, I can’t believe you didn’t miss or accidentally shot Raul from across the street!” the youngest guy from the mission shouted as soon as they reached them on the vehicle, Raul closing the door behind them. 

Y/N only giggled in response “yeah, a bit crazy, isn’t it?”

“That’s because she’s the best, Tommy, but she won’t believe it” Raul said as he sat on one of the vacant seats, waiting for her to join him. 

“Oh shut it” she said unable to stop the smile from forming.

They kept on talking about the mission for a while, Tommy and the other two kids who recently joined still high from the adrenaline, but Y/N couldn’t be more worn out and Raul was quick to catch it. He leaned closer to her and she automatically laid her head on his shoulder, a movement that was almost mechanic to both of them. He gently grabbed her hand that was placed on her knee and interlaced their fingers together, letting her play with his hand to pass the time. 

Y/N sighed and mumbled after a while, when most of the kids were too distracted to pay attention “Are you really okay? Don’t say that you’re always fine, I mean it”

Raul had mastered the art of the poker face. He could easily be having the worst time of his life, but he would never let it showcase always with a quick sarcastic remark and an easy smirk on his lips, ready to flirt with anyone to distract them from the real problem. Raul was not the best when dealing with feelings and emotions, always thought it was easier to push them away, but Y/N saw right through him. She always did, ever since they were little. After that, he never tried to hide it again from her, always being as honest as he could with her about how he was, and obviously it didn’t always work, but she understood and respected it. It’s not like he needed to say anything for her to know. 

But at the same time, she didn’t know that he would always be fine, as long as she was safe and right next to him, the rest didn’t matter. 

“I promise you I’m fine, you saved my beautiful ass and we’re going home, I’d say we’re fantastic” he said after a while, pressing a long kiss to the back of their laced hands. 

That seemed to be enough to convince Y/N, since she huffed through her nose and let out a tiny giggle, before leaning closer to him and Raul took it as a sign to drape his arm over her shoulder pulling her closer to his chest “your beautiful ass is really annoying, you know that, right?”

“Oh, I do, but you love it anyway” he said with a giggle, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head, as she just showed him her middle finger, making him laugh even more. 

Yeah, he was definitely fine. For now. 

                                                     -*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

[sugarcomatosed]

i love your stories so much!! and was wondering if you can give some writing tips perhaps? 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

Breaking this up into sections for you + putting it under a cut cause I went overboard. 😅

General Writing Tips

These work for both academic and creative writing.

Make an outline.

It doesn't have to be a formal one, but having at least a general idea of the scenes you want to include is helpful. If I know my fic is going to be a longer one (like Don't Hesitate was and my current WIP is), I break down the larger story beats i want to hit on a piece of paper or my iPad.

It's good to know what you're planning to do, in a any piece I usually have a single specific scene I want to do and depending on what it is, I might either just do the scene I want to or turn into something longer.

Draft, draft, draft.

I cannot stress the importance of going through and reviewing your work. This is a big part of any sort of writing.

Your first idea isn't always your best idea. As you work on a piece you might find your original idea is holding you back, focus shifts! Don't be afraid to let your work change as you go. It's not always easy to let go of your original idea but if you find it's not working, you have to let it change. Sections will need to be rewritten, things have to be readjusted to fit with later sections. Reread for clarity while you're drafting and look to see if this makes sense to you, or reads well to you. If you can't follow it and you wrote it, chances are your reader can't either. Did you use the same phrase again and again? Find and search it on your doc to double check.

Sometimes you have to cut things you really like because they just don't contribute to the fic anymore. Save those bits and use them somewhere else!In a lot of my longer pieces I will write a paragraph, realize that's not where it should go and cut/paste it into another part of the doc because the pacing/scene doesn't make sense where I had it originally, but it works somewhere else.

If you're stuck, skip around, come back and then stitch the bits you have written together.

Don't Focus on a Word Count

This might be controversial, but I'm of the opinion just because something is longer does not make it better. Some works are short, and that's okay! I very rarely try to aim for a specific count of words unless it's for a prompt exchange or a personal challenge. I write till I feel the piece is done. Some stories require more words, some require less.

Don't Hesitate is a great example of this again, because all I wanted to do was a bittersweet first kiss fic, but jumping write into the kiss wouldn't get the full effect I wanted. Meanwhile, with Old Habits all I wanted to do was write dumb comedic kisses, we didn't need a 2k preamble.

Get Someone You Trust to Edit

My go to editor for the past six years or so is one of my good friends. She has edited everything from college papers to my fics for me before I post them to read for clarity, find any funky phrases or misspelled words I missed, and I do the same for her when she asks! A fresh set of eyes makes a world of a difference. Find someone to trade fics with or ask a friend! They might have good suggestions you never thought of, or be able to tell what you were going for when you don't even know yourself.

I also rely on my friends a lot to brainstorm and talk my ideas out before I start because it helps me think and figure out what I need. It's super common for me to text someone and say "im gonna spitball at you, that okay?" and then spend twenty minutes chatting through my ideas.

Have Reference Material

For my 13sar fics, I regularly go back and review/screenshot videos of the dialogue to make sure I am staying consistent with story events, character nuance and small details. You don't have to go crazy, but it is really helpful to have your source material to go back to and check yourself against. In non creative writing I always had a pile of papers highlighted with my own notes on the margins.

Take Breaks/Pace Yourself

Know your own limits, and if you are working and working on something and it's not coming out leave it alone and come back to it. I'm really bad at this personally because when I get an idea in my head I want to see it through but sometimes you gotta step back! It's not healthy to keep working on things and overwork yourself. Stretch, get up go for a walk.

Write What You Want to Write

Don't focus on what people want to read. Focus on what you like. Find a topic, a scene, anything that you are passionate about and the rest will follow. The only time I write fic for other people is when I am writing for a friend. Even prompt requests I only take open ended ones, if I am not interested in writing it it's not gonna happen. I know it's super hard and I get really anxious sometimes about letting people down now, or worrying people won't like something but then I step back and remind myself this is a hobby and I'm doing it for fun.

Play to Your Strengths

You shouldn't try to write like me, you should try to write like yourself. Find what skills you have and use them to your advantage!

I can't give you a step by step list to write like me, because nobody in the world has my background! We're all unique. Everything I've listed so far I know because I'm not a beginner anymore! I'm in my twenties and have come from a strong academic writing background.

I took on an intensive course load in high school, and then went onto college for a sociology degree. I very rarely had test based finals and at the end of each semester would have five 10-15 page papers to submit. Straight up some of my skills come from having read and studied the works of anthropologist Clifford Geertz. I am not saying you should read anthropology/sociology texts. Unless you like that sort of thing lol

I also have 6+ years of theater experience (acting & directing), I use this all the time for my writing. When I think about a scene, I think about how I would work through it as an actor, how the character would move, and how would things read to an audience. The GOTE ("Goal, Obstacle, Tactics, and Expectation") method of acting by Robert Cohen is really useful hear if you want a more technical breakdown of what I mean by that.

This leads to a lot of what we called "business" in acting, doing small tiny things while you talk or move around on stage to give the sense you're a real human. I don't have to think or try on these sort of things because they're in my skill set already!

Things I do Personally

As in, these are not transferable skills this is just the stuff I do while working on projects.

Find a Vibe™️

I come into any fic with usually a goal I want to hit, a line of dialogue or something I want to capture. Just like, the general idea of a feeling a song even if the lyrics don't match up. Make a mood-board, a playlist, just find something you wanna do. It's less about the actual words on the page and what you're aiming to do.

Look to things that inspire you

Don't Hesitate got written because I wanted to write a fic that captured the same vibe as a scene in Macross Frontier, where two characters have a bittersweet kiss before the final battle and that scene still has me fucked up six years after watching it.

My current WIP is doing the same thing but with the song All I've Ever Known from Hadestown. Two characters working through loneliness, the sudden feeling of falling in love and the frustration that feeling can bring on sometime.

I don't plagiarize them word for word, but these are scenes that inspire me! I also patchwork quilt ideas together. Using Don't Hesitate again, I also ended up pulling from a bunch of shoujo anime, Toradora, Sailor Moon, Yona of the Dawn, Princess Tutu...specific scenes I enjoy to blend and create something new.

Goof Off While You Write

I name my documents stupid things, I write dumb placeholder dialogue or vague sentiments like "insert better word here", I make memes when I'm struggling and roast myself and my predictable tastes.

I spent twenty minutes texting a friend Juro's name with different letters spelt out and then the "fuck your chickenstrips" vine saying it was Juro during destruction. Just have fun with it!

Listen to J-POP On Loop for Hours at a Time

i am not kidding I do this all the time. Perfume, AKB48, anime idol osts, Sailor Moon's OPs/ED, vocaloid songs. I like technopop and Japanese is good because it usually doesn't distract my brain since I only know random phrases, but still know what the meaning og the song is.

I love music, it helps me vibe out.

Thank you so much for enjoying my work ;o;

I hope this is useful to you in some way! I'm so sorry it's so long winded but I am overly thorough and love to teach people ;w;

[notveryglittery]

birthday prince (1)

summary: roman gives the performance of his dreams and deceit loves him all the more. words: 1,330 / ship: roceit (roman/deceit)  author’s note: hello!! this is the first part of my Giving The Gay Anything He Wants series for roman’s birthday (june 4)! the ships are all written romantic but i’m not stopping you from seeing them however you want. peep the ao3 end notes for credits on these gift suggestions (bc i can’t decide where to put them in this post)! i hope you enjoy!!

part 1 (roceit) | part 2 (logince) | part 3 (prinxiety) part 4 (royality) | part 5 (dlampts) read on ao3 

— — —

“Darling, may I please open my eyes now?”

“Trust me. We’re almost there.”

Deceit could try all he wanted to hide the excitement in his tone but Roman had no trouble picking up on it. There were hints of nervousness there, too, but Roman was sure that whatever his love had planned, he was going to enjoy it no matter what. Surely, it had something to do with his birthday, given that the week of it had just begun. Usually, Sundays were reserved for family time, but apparently Deceit had had this in the works for a while now, and if they all knew anything, it was to not throw a wrench into his schemes. The part Roman was having a hard time wrapping his head around was the fact that Deceit was giving him such an early birthday gift.

His hand was cool in Roman’s but it held on securely as they walked. They were dressed nicely, with matching accessories. The rings on Deceit’s fingers kept clinking against the ones that Roman wore and as silly as it was, he couldn’t stop smiling about it. During their stroll, the air had been warm and the floor mostly carpet beneath their feet; at the sound of doors opening, however, there was a brief crisp breeze and suddenly each step echoed around them. Roman would know this room no matter the circumstances. A giddy laugh bubbled up his throat.

“What’re we doing here, bee?”

“Why don’t you take a look for yourself?” Deceit suggested, pulling Roman’s hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

Roman opened his eyes. As he expected, Deceit had taken them to the Theatre. It had always been a pleasant and neutral space in Thomas’ mind. Whereas Roman kept control over the Fantasy Realm or Logan the Memory Archives, the Theatre was available for any of them to use as they needed. It was often transformed for Daydream Scenarios but Roman liked it best like this, in all its original glory.

“Shall we?” Deceit prompted, gesturing down the aisle and towards the front row seats.

Roman might not know what was in store but he had no intention of turning it down. He followed again, resisting the urge to mention Deceit having not actually answered his question. He knew he’d find out any moment now, anyway. They settled comfortably, Deceit not once letting go of Roman’s hand. It was only a few seconds later that the lights dimmed and everything shifted. No longer were they figments of the imagination, sat in a theatre that he had created. As far as Roman could tell (and feel), they were in New York City, at the Richard Rodgers Theatre. It was… it was absolutely magical.

And then the opening notes rang out and Roman’s breath rushed out of him.

”How does a bastard, orphan…”

“What… you—”

“Oh, don’t get all flustered now, dear,” Deceit interrupted, equal parts teasing and adoring. “You’ve got a role to play.”

The reds and golds of his suit were replaced in an instant and the 18th century garb he wore now matched that of the actors performing. His hands were shaking but he couldn’t tell if it was because he was terrified or excited. It was probably both.

“Shut up,” he squeaked.

“Happy birthday,” Deceit purred, entirely too self-satisfied.

”And the world’s gonna know your name…”

In a blink, Roman was center stage, in darkness. The show had been sold out, every seat filled. Most of the audience appeared faceless and unimportant to him but, barely, he could see Deceit still sat in the front row. The pride and awe shone blatantly on his face. Roman’s heart was racing. It was adrenaline and fear and joy and nerves and satisfaction. It was butterflies in his stomach and dreams coming true and the sensation of slipping into character and playing his part with as much enthusiasm as he could muster.

”What’s your name, man?”

“Alexander Hamilton!” Roman sang as the spotlight beamed down on him.

— — —

Roman threw himself into Deceit’s arms as soon as he arrived backstage. He was out of breath and had been crying since the end of the curtain call but he was blissfully happy. Absolutely nothing could take him down.

“I love you,” he gasped, peppering Deceit’s face with kisses. “That was exhilarating! I just performed in Hamilton! Alongside the original cast! I played the lead role! Oh my god!”

“And you were brilliant,” Deceit said, leaning back just enough so that Roman could see his smile. There was a bouquet in his arms and the flowers were pushing against their chins; it tickled but it smelled sweet. “No offense to Lin-Manuel, but—”

“No!” Roman exclaimed, laughing through his tears. “Don’t you dare besmirch Mr. Miranda’s name!”

Deceit rolled his eyes but relented. He pulled away and offered his gift out to Roman. “I know, they aren’t nearly as handsome as you. However…”

There was more weight to the bundle of roses than Roman would have expected. Upon closer inspection, he found a carefully wrapped package tucked in the middle. He cradled the flowers in his elbow and took the parcel out with his free hand.

“This is for anytime you need reminding of how loved and cherished you are. If for some reason none of us are available to do so, that is.” Deceit was telling him but Roman was transfixed by the handheld mirror revealed as the cloth fabric fell away. It was shiny and gold, with rubies and citrine embedded in the handle.

“I don’t know how true any of it is but,” Deceit began and Roman could hear the telltale start of a nervous ramble. “Rubies are protective stones that bring happiness. Citrine encourages self-expression and creativity. They’re also…” He paused. Roman’s heart felt warm at Deceit’s growing blush. “You know… our colors.”

Before Roman could respond, the mirror flashed pale yellow. He winced and then nearly dropped it because it had started to speak.

“Oh, dearest Roman, it should be impossible for you to be any more attractive than you already are! Somehow, though, the expression you wear when gazing at your loved ones adds still so much to your infinite beauty!”

“Excuse me?!” He yelped, mouth falling open in surprise.

“Good timing,” Deceit said, having seemingly recovered. “And don’t think you can get away with needing it but feeling as if you don’t deserve it. It’ll compliment you whether you like it or not.”

Roman couldn’t even be upset at the blatant callout on his behavior when Deceit looked so pleased with himself. Creating something like this… he had to have taken into account the mirrors’ awareness of its surroundings, knowing when Roman would need it… This hadn’t been a trifling task. Roman thought he might burst with all of the feelings welling up inside of him.

“I love it,” he managed, voice wobbling as tears sprung fresh to his eyes. “I love you. Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you—” The gratitude dissolved into happy crying, positively overwhelmed by it all.

“It’s the least I could do for you, my prince,” Deceit crooned, stepping closer and taking Roman gently in his arms. “The world would be yours, if I could give it. Until then, I’ll continue to do my utmost in providing you anything you could ever ask for.”

The Theatre melted away as Deceit carefully sunk them out. While Roman retrieved a box of tissues, Deceit took the flowers and mirror and set them safely aside. It took only a few minutes longer for them to be dressed comfortably and in Roman’s bed, wrapped snugly in blankets. He was crashing quickly, from the last of the adrenaline and the final wave of emotions. Everything was just the right amount of comfortable, Deceit’s cooler temperature keeping them from being too warm from Roman’s elevated body heat. He felt cocooned and safe in Deceit’s embrace and knew that there wasn’t anyone on the planet luckier than him.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael in the Mainstream: The Dark Knight Trilogy & Its Negative Impact on the Superhero Genre

Superhero movies have come a very long way in the past couple of decades, cementing themselves as a genre unto themselves rather than the odd action movie here or there. Almost every year a few new ones of varying quality pop up that incite equal parts excitement and derision. It’s definitely a genre people feel very strongly about, but even people who tend to not love superhero films will admit that Christopher Nolan’s Dark Knight trilogy is fantastic.

From 2005 until 2012, Nolan reinvisioned Batman in a way that grounded the character in reality. There’s no fantastical elements, there’s no insane science, there’s no superpowers… Everything in these films could happen in the real world. In a post-Batman & Robin world, this was seen as a breath of fresh air, and the critics loved it. In particular, The Dark Knight helped to usher in the modern age of superhero films, releasing the same year the MCU kicked off and widely being hailed as one of the greatest films of all time. That’s right, not even superhero films, films period. These films were impressive, groundbreaking, and… they fundamentally ruined superhero movies for quite a while.

Look, I don’t particularly hate these films. I think all of them are pretty good, in their own ways. But they have a lot of glaring issues that really hamper them a fair bit and yet, somehow, they became the blueprint that studios decided to look at for what they thought a successful superhero movie should be. Nolan’s films are serious, brooding, dark, and lack the whimsy and creative insanity that makes comics such a fun and engaging medium, and I think this right here is what has hurt comic book movies the most over the past decade. These are films that feel absolutely ashamed to be comic book movies, and they desperately want to seem like they’re “mature” and for “adults.” And, unfortunately for the rest of us, this shame translated over into a lot of other films, something we’re only just now recovering from.

Looking at the greatest strength of the trilogy shows this issue pretty well, that being the villains. Nolan’s films gave us truly iconic portrayals of characters like Bane, Joker, and Scarecrow, and you’re not gonna hear me say much bad about them. Cillian Murphy, Liam Neeson, Tom Hardy, Anne Hathaway, Aaron Eckhart, and Heath Ledger all do fantastic jobs as the insidious rogues of Batman. But the issue I have is that by grounding these characters in a realistic setting like this, it kind of misses the point. Joker isn’t using exploding cakes and laughing gas, Ra’s al Ghul isn’t an immortal warrior, Bane isn’t a drugged-up super soldier… They’re all just Guys. They’re Guys With Gimmicks, yes, but at the end of the day they aren’t what should be looked at as the be-all, end-all of the character’s portrayals.

And yet everyone acts like no one should ever play Joker again, because Heath Ledger’s Joker was just so good, guys! And he was good, but I don’t think Ledger’s Joker should be the absolute final Joker ever. Quite frankly, I prefer Phoenix’s Joker, because even if that version is also in a rather grounded film missing the overt weirdness of comics for the most part, he still dresses in a colorful costume, acts weird, tells jokes, and is in general more Jokery. Out of all of these villains, I think Bane and Scarecrow at least come within the ballpark of being close to how they should be, but Scarecrow is horribly underutilized and Bane is given a rather undignified sendoff.

Then there are the bigger issues. Batman himself is really downplayed throughout the trilogy, getting fairly little screentime compared to villains and side characters. This was a huge point of contention when The Dark Knight Rises came out, with most of the film featuring Bruce Wayne, and in hindsight it highlights how unwilling Nolan was to engage with the comic book trappings of what he was adapting. I like Christian Bale a lot, he’s a great actor, but I don’t think he really carries any of the films; in fact, it’s usually the villains carrying the movies. Bale is certainly not as bad as Val Kilmer in the role of Wayne/Batman, but he’s no Keaton, he’s no Clooney, he’s not even an Affleck. A lot of the time, he also just feels like… a Guy. And Batman should not ever, ever just be a Guy.

But perhaps the most egregious fault of the films is what it did to Gotham City itself. In Burton’s films, you really get a feel for the Gothic atmosphere of the city with how it’s designed, and this goes for Batman: The Animated Series too. And even the more cartoonish, colorful Gotham of Schumacher’s films pops and leaves an impact. But Nolan’s Gotham? It’s very much just a City. There is nothing distinct about Nolan’s Gotham, it’s literally just a generic city, and if you even have the faintest knowledge of Batman you will know that Gotham is not just a city. Gotham is pretty much a character itself, a dark, imposing landscape in which Batman does battle with his costumed foes. Every other adaptation I can think of knows to make Gotham feel unique and distinct, but this one just absolutely drops the ball. You might as well just have the city be New York if you’re going to put no effort into giving it personality.

And that all brings me to this: every reviled superhero movie of the past decade, from F4ntastic to The Amazing Spider-Man to Dawn of Justice, all have their genesis in Nolan’s trilogy. He laid the groundwork for these films to exist, and a large majority of the blame needs to be put on Nolan for sapping the fun out of comic book movies. Now, to be totally fair to Nolan, he’s not entirely responsible for what happened to the comic book film landscape; prior to him, the X-Men film series was giving all of the heroes dark costumes and being a bit more serious. But despite those films playing a bit of a part, there’s one major reason I don’t fault them nearly as much: The X-Men films never once felt ashamed to be comic book movies.

You have to understand, people loved grit and edginess in the 90s and had just violently rejected Batman & Robin a few years prior to the original X-Men film, so it’s hard to really fault it for wanting to avoid being too campy. But much like Blade, the films never tried to act like they weren’t still crazy comic book films. Scott still has eye lasers, Mystique is still blue, Nightcrawler looks like a demon, there are Sentinels and Apocalypse and even Dazzler shows up at one point! The X-Men franchise wasn’t always good, but it managed to balance between being silly and taking itself seriously pretty well for the most part. Magneto is still a Holocaust survivor, his relationship with Xavier still has impact, there are still emotional moments here and there, but then you also have Deadpool movies and the multiple comic book style retcons to the timeline that leave the continuity a mess, and something about that just feels right. And all that makes Logan less egregious despite being the sort of brooding, angsty superhero drama Nolan would make, because even if it is those things, it still centers around a dude with metal claws coming out of his hands trying to stop his best friend from wiping out everyone with psychic seizures. Nolan could never make this superhero film.

Nolan’s films, on the other hand, did. These films did not feel like they wanted to be comic book movies, they felt like they wanted to be serious crime films but Nolan was stuck with Batman so he just mashed the two together. And honestly, I’d probably be more forgiving if it weren’t for the hugely negative impact these films and their critical success had on the superhero genre even until this day. The first decade of superhero films as a major contender in cinema were colored by these films. People outright balked at silliness in superhero movies for quite some time, with a lot of criticism levied at the early phases of the MCU for being too goofy; in fact, at times it seemed as if the MCU was going a bit too far in the goofy direction without striking the proper balance, with films like Age of Ultron having most of its tension defused by constant wisecracks. And on the DC side, Nolan’s grounded approach lead to Zack Snyder’s flaccid filmmaking with dark coloration, moody atmosphere, and not a shred of joy to be found. Nolan is essentially the peak of dark, grounded superhero films, and Snyder is the nadir, but Snyder’s awful DC films wouldn’t exist if not for Nolan.

It was a slow crawl getting to what superhero movies should be. Guardians of the Galaxy and Ant-Man were films tossed out only when Marvel was certain they could take risks, because absurd concepts like those would just not have been able to survive if not for years of good will beforehand. That’s not even getting into some of the more bonkers elements of later films, such as Ego the Living Planet and basically everything about Doctor Strange. In fact, Doctor Strange, for all its issues, is still a massive step forward for a genre that outright rejected magic for a long time, instead for a time turning Thor and his costars into a cast of hyper-advanced aliens, with later films having to clarify that there is magic and zombies and so on. The recent WandaVision was able to further clarify this by making Wanda unambiguously magic and not an evil Nazi science experiment.

Superhero animation didn’t suffer quite so much, but that’s mostly because, much like comics, animation is still seen as “kid’s stuff” by way too many people. And even then, they didn’t escape the shadow of Nolan totally unscathed; one need only look into the infamous Bat Embargo, which limited Batman villains so there could only be one given incarnation of said character in media. For instance, the Scarecrow being in Batman Begins meant he could not appear in the animated series The Batman. This lead to such things as no Batman characters appearing in Justice League Unlimited. It was truly a stupidly frustrating time to be a Batman fan when some of his most iconic foes were relegated to only certain appearances because it “might confuse kids.”

Let me again clarify this: I mostly like the Nolan films. I usually like Nolan, though he has become unbearably, obnoxiously pretentious these days. I think a lot of elements of them are great, I feel like they mostly have strong villains, and I don’t disagree that The Dark Knight is a fantastic film. But the thing is these are only good as AU stories, as their own thing; they should not be the template every superhero movie should follow, or any superhero movie for that matter, because they lack the ability to engage with the things that make people love comics in the first place. People love wacky, off-the-wall concepts, superpowered aliens, magic, talking animals, evil living planets, alcoholic ducks, and all that fun stuff.

People desperately want the fun, camp, and wacky stuff back in comic book films, as the success of the goofier DC films like Aquaman, Shazam, and Birds of Prey as well as the success of shows like Doom Patrol in comparison to the critical and audience revulsion of Snyder’s films, with Shazam in particular giving us such bonkers concepts as an entire family of superpowered children and Mr. Mind, the evil alien caterpillar. Thor: Ragnarok and the Guardians of the Galaxy films have become some of the most beloved MCU movies despite being weird, wacky, and wholly embracing the joy of comics to the point the latter films feature Howard the Duck and the aforementioned Ego alongside bizarre characters like Rocket Raccoon, Groot, and Taserface. And the thing with all of these films is that they’re able to balance the weirdness and wackiness of comics without losing sight of human emotion, moving storytelling, and drama. They’re both fun and deep, goofy and yet meaningful. This is what comics are, and what they should be, and anyone who thinks comics should be grim and gritty really needs to think about why they think an entire genre needs to be colored in with only the dullest colors.

I think what I’m trying to say here is this: Make a Detective Chimp movie, you cowards.

[flameraven]

Good Omens Fic Rec Masterpost - Part Two

 Hello hello I have read MANY MORE fics in this fandom now so it’s time to add on to my previous recs. Part One can be found here: https://flameraven.tumblr.com/post/187742832545/good-omens-fic-recs-masterpost General info! No fics rated higher than M, and that’s usually for violence not sex. I headcanon the husbands as being in an asexual relationship, so any fics I rec will have no sex, or only have sexy stuff alluded to or briefly mentioned.

The Soft Zone (TM)

all the days - G / darcylindbergh

War of Attrition- G / out_there / 8k - 3 gifts Crowley gives Aziraphale

A Meddling of Houseplants - T/ wingedspirit / 6k - Ophelia (a peace lily) is tired of Crowley and Aziraphale’s hopeless pining, and takes matters into her own leaves.

Sweetest in the Gale - T / wingedspirit / 3.8k - Gabriel can sense Aziraphale’s love for Crowley, and confronts “Aziraphale” about it before his execution

Deck the Halls - G / forthegreatergood / 18k - two idiots attempt to acquire mistletoe for the holidays in order to convey their feelings for the other.

Tartan Wrapping Paper - G / Arej / 2k - Crowley may not have quite gotten the message about the tartan all those years ago

a prize-winning philodendron - G / Elsajeni / <1k - Crowley does look, and sighs heavily. “Angel,” he says, “of all the plants you could have tried keeping, why did you start with something this fussy?”

Silver and Gold - G / asparkofgoodness / 1.5k - Crowley buys a ring.

Futile Devices - G / ticketybye / 3k - Yes, Crowley has imagined. He has craved. But being in Aziraphale’s close proximity has had to be enough. He’s not even sure he deserves that. But this, this feels like it felt to be commissioned the stars. It feels like being entrusted with something precious and fragile.

The Weight of Words Unspoken - G / rattatatosk / 1.8k - Aziraphale has always hinted to Crowley when he needed to leave. After the Apoca-wasn’t, he asks Crowley to stay.

J’Aime (I Love) - G / yourpaceangel - Crowley is searching for what the ‘J’ means.

the other way round - G / darcylindbergh / <1k - Aziraphale gets hair pets for once.

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life Too) - G / soft_october / 1.5k - Crowley is trying not to go to fast, ends up stalled out completely. Aziraphale decides he will have to get creative. 

In Good Hands - G / Sunjinjo / 14k - Aziraphale was created wearing a golden ring. It’s now the last remaining aspect of his original attire.One day, he tries to take it off. The rest follows naturally. (Marriage Proposal)

One Golden Glance (Of What Should Be) - G / Sunjinjo / 8.5k - Crowley takes up painting after the Apocalypse.

Misfit / Safe Haven - G / Mothfluff / 2k - Aziraphale provides a safe space for the Soho queer community to gather

seasons, changes - G / the_pen_is_mightier / 2k - In the autumn Aziraphale and Crowley go out apple picking.

on the necessity of a temptation - M / darcylindbergh / 4.5k - Crowley squinted at him. He said, slowly, as if sounding around the words [...] “But doing things is what we do. Why would—what would be the point of me being here otherwise?”

In Other Words, Baby, Kiss Me - T / mikkimouse / 4.5k - Five times Aziraphale kissed Crowley and one time Crowley (finally) kissed him back.

It's Getting Hard, This Holding Back - T / ZehWulf / 13k - Crowley decides to lure Aziraphale into Explicit Gestures of Romantic Affection. Aziraphale sets a cuddle trap

give you more to hold on to - T / cryptidkidprem / 4k - Crowley nods. "It's..." He looks down at their joined hands, and takes a long, deep breath. “We’re not— We’re not supposed to need this, y’know?” He lifts their joined hands up, lets them fall again. “You and I. Angels, demons. We're not meant to need all this. This touchy-feely stuff, all this affection, this—” a hitch in his breath— “Love.”

two parallel lines -lineffability

don’t let me wake up - acuteangleaziraphale

how to let go - jlmarch

Mornington Crescent -politeanarcy

Wingfic

Symmetry in Favor - G / kedreeva / 8k - Five times Crowley preens Aziraphale's wings, and one time Aziraphale preens Crowley's.

London Calling - G / forthegreatergood / 30k - Come for Crowley’s ridiculous 1970′s bed, stay for Feelings and extensive wing pets.

Hurt/Comfort

Be Ye Therefore Merciful - T / AmberDiceless / 9.5k - Book!Verse. Crowley does something utterly unexpected, and Aziraphale must face an opponent who cannot be thwarted.

Pigeon Girlfriends with a Long Preamble - T / SleepySelfLoathing / 8k - All Crowley wanted was to spend a nice night in with his husband, so of course he ends up summoned by a bunch of cultists instead. Why would he expect anything different....This would probably be a lot easier to deal with if he wasn't wearing Aziraphale's fluffiest bathrobe.

All Creatures that Have the Breath of Life - G / Elsajeni / 4k - Aziraphale fishes a very sodden Crawly out of the water during the Flood.

Touched by an Angel (And it Bloody Hurts) - G  /hedgehog-o-brien / 7k - Aziraphale can’t touch Crowley without burning him.

Douse the Fire, Help Me Breathe  - G / Arej / 1.5k - Even demons fear fire, when they've watched their world burn.

In a City Under Aerial Bombardment  - G / battle_cat / 3k - After the church and the bomb and the books.

Small Mercies - G / rattatatosk / 4k - Crawly gets smited. Aziraphale lends a hand.

Easier Than Air - G / A_Candle_For_Sherlock / 3.5k - The world hasn't ended, and everything is fine. They're fine. It's terrifying.

attachment - T / artenon / 4.5k - Crowley crosses over to open the passenger door for Aziraphale, and Aziraphale’s attention is drawn to Crowley’s uneven gait, the light, too-quick steps and the rocking back and forth on his heels as he holds the door open and waits for Aziraphale to get in.“Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale says, heart sinking, “your feet.”

Hell Freezes Over - M / charliebrown1234 + Turcote / 18k - The year is 2002, and Crowley and Aziraphale are sent to Alaska to investigate a decommissioned entrance to Hell. What could possibly go wrong? 

Better The Demon You Know - T / mikkimouse / 1.2k - When Crawly falls out of the sky and into the flood, he gets help from a very unexpected source.

Gently, gently - G / the_pen_is_mightier / 3k - Heaven is cold and lonely. Hell is filthy and crowded. Aziraphale badly needs to be touched; Crowley needs fresh air, and light, and space. They can’t seem to connect on days after they’ve returned from their respective head offices.

Of Firsts and Foremosts  - T / kedreeva / 6k - Aziraphale is left vulnerable and injured as his first molt approaches. Crawly comes to the rescue for the first time.

The Brazen Serpent - T / ImprobableDreams900 / 11k - Some other angels come to help Aziraphale at the end of the Isrealites’ 40-year exile in the wilderness, unfortunately for Crawley.

hold my hand tight (we'll make it another night) - G / cryptidkidprem / 3k - The night at Crowley’s flat. He’s having a hard time not panicking.

Harbours of My Own - T / wingedspirit / 30k - Crowley knows that, as a demon, his freedom is limited. He doesn't get to have a home; he doesn't get to love. Aziraphale would very much like to change that, but he, too, is limited in what he can do. It takes the better part of six thousand years, but they'll get there.

crack me open, feel me shatter - T / rattatatosk / 2.5k - Crowley dreams of the Fall. Aziraphale is there to catch him when he wakes.

Angst (w/a Happy Ending)

Where His Angel Dares to Tread - M / PinkPenguinParade / 16k - Crowley is taken by Hell. Aziraphale disguises himself as best he can for the rescue mission. Newt and Anathema help.

Remembrance of Things Past - T / Fyre / 18k - Hell takes Crowley’s memories all the way back to Eden as punishment for his crimes.

Drunk Theology - G / battle_cat / 3k - Aziraphale had been hoping tonight for Giggly Drunk Crowley, which was his favorite drunk Crowley. That didn’t seem to be how things were working out, though.

Like a River Flows - T / kedreeva / 15k - Five times Crowley was not allowed to love Aziraphale, and one time he succeeded.

The Cultivation of New Growth - T / Vitreous_humor / 3k - “I mean,” he said carefully, “if you want a plant, let me give you one of the snake plants or maybe the big coleus. They'd be good for the shop, pretty stalwart in the dark...You don't want this one, it's rotten.” “Actually,” Aziraphale said firmly, “I do want that one.”

The Holy Essence of Experience - T / Dragonsquill / 4k - They know how they feel, but giving it a name would be too dangerous.   Ineffable husbands from the beginning to the end of the world, aware and wanting.

AUs/Crossovers

be mine tonight (be mine forever) - T / artenon / 11k - Human!AU. When Aziraphale finds out his coworkers have made a bet that he won’t bring anyone to the company party, he asks his best friend Crowley to go as his date just to spite them. Things quickly spiral out of control.

Siren’s Song - T / kedreeva / 30k+ (WIP) - Siren!AU. Crowley, a lone siren, calls a ship to wreck upon his reef, but finds when he meets pirate captain Aziraphale that sirens are not the only ones able to lure another creature to their heart's desire.

Adopt Don’t Shop - G / lucky_spike / 6k - Cat!AU based on Chekov’s “Good Meowmons” comics.

The Ones Who Walk Away From Nevaeh  - T / soft_october / 15k - AU based on “The Ones Who Walk Away from Omelas”

The Grinch Who Sold Christmas - T / darcylindbergh / 60k - Human AU / Hallmark Movie AU. Crowley is a big city lawyer sent to seal the deal that will destroy the quaint town of Tadfield forever, right before Christmas... and then he falls in love with the town, and a certain bookshop owner. Ridiculously sappy fluff that hits all the right notes.

The Odd One Out  T / RainyDayDecaf / 2k- A meeting of many different Crowleys and Aziraphales.

Beat Again - T / TeaCub90 / 7k - Human AU. Two neighbours keep each other and their respective conditions company in the dead of night

Outsider POV

Ophidiophobia - G / lyricwritesprose / 7.6k - Pepper is afraid of snakes. When this is abruptly revealed in an encounter with Crowley’s serpent form, she immediately goes about trying to cure herself of it.

What’s in a Name? - G / lyricwritesprose / 4k -  “You do realize,” Brother Francis said, “that Warlock is just your name, not some sort of, of directive?”

Damaged - G / lyricwritesprose / 6k - Aziraphale is struggling after the Apocalypse. Madam Tracy offers some advice. (Very good spooky/nonhuman Aziraphale in this one.)

Angel’s Favor - T/ PinkPenguinParade / 10k - A hundred years ago, Aziraphale gave one of his feathers to a woman who helped him. In the modern day, her descendant calls in the favor.

Protective Camouflage -  G/ politeanarcy/ 2.3k - The Antichrist isn’t the only one with defenses against being noticed.

Disposable - T / lyricwritesprose / 7k - Eric the Disposable Demon attempts to become Crowley’s vassal after the Apoca-wasn’t. Nothing goes the way they expect after that.

on deceiving appearances - G / asideofourown / 2k - The Disposable Demon realizes the truth of Crowley’s deception in Heaven.

Anthony J. Crowley, Retired Demon and Airbnb Superhost - G / TheOldAquarian / 3k - What are you supposed to do when you've been fired from your sweet job in Hell for thwarting the schemes of Satan, you've got a swanky flat in Mayfair, and you're looking for an excuse to spend all your time in someone else's bookshop? Obviously, you turn to the dubious world of short-term vacation rentals.

Other

the best laid schemes - T / asideofourown / 4k - How Crowley got his Rat Army

Incongruous States of Being - T / ZehWulf / 8k - “Who would win: Aziraphale or Crowley.” “Oh!” Aziraphale startles. “Well—such a question. It’s not as though either of us has engaged in so much as fisticuffs in ages, and one does need to keep up practice with these sorts of things.” His fretting dies abruptly when Crowley cuts over him clearly, baldly: “Aziraphale.”

No one expects the Spanish Inquisition - T / WoodsWitch / 12k - The Arrangement is 500 years old, and Crowley and Aziraphale have been having a fine time in Renaissance Florence. Things start to go a bit pear-shaped with the arrival of a Friar Savonarola, so Crowley suggests that they meet up in his favorite refuge from the rest of medieval Europe: Spain. ((Don’t let the title fool you, this is an incredibly in-depth and well-researched historical fic and deserves way more hits than it has.))

[trashy-slashy]

Hellou!May I request Thomas,Vincent and/or Lester with a s/o who has a farm?They have a lot of animals(sheeps,cows etc.),have a lot of vegetables and fruits and when they go outside they always bring pretty flowers and fruit to snack on.I hope I didnt bother you and you dont have to do this if you dont want to.Have a nice week❤

This sounds so cute wow I love it! And you’re so lovely UwU

Thomas

Thomas is no stranger to farm life. He missed the slaughterhouse, despite how poorly he was treated there. But on your farm, working hard labour and his efforts returned with nothing but love; this was bliss.

He would be a little confused when you tell him that you don’t produce meat, because that is all he really knew. Outside of the meat industry he never really questioned other animal products, except for the few chickens Luda Mae kept.

Transferring Thomas’ talents to farm labour is easy enough. He struggles a little with milking due to his height but excels at shearing the sheep and tending to the crops. Thomas is the best help you could ask for around the farm.

He will however, try to work himself to death. Poor boy doesn’t want to disappoint you after all! Bring him cold drinks and fresh snacks to distract him at the hottest part of the day, dragging him into the shade and sitting on his lap so he can’t escape. He’ll seem a little irritable at being pulled from his work, but he peppers your face in kisses in appreciation.

You’ll notice some of your wool yield going missing, but it makes perfect sense when Tommy surprises you with a small blanket that he’s made you. He misses leather working, so you set him up with some dyes and the proper equipment so he can fulfil his creative side.

Vincent

Vincent doesn’t really enjoy being outside, especially if it’s hot and bright. If you were looking for help around the farm, you brought the wrong Sinclair. He is however the strongest physically, and will always oblige if you ask for help specifically. Just don’t make him stay in the sun too long or he’ll get cranky.

He does love the location however, using it as a muse for his art. Expect to find one of your old sheds converted into a workshop seemingly overnight. If he is outside during the day you’ll find him under a tree, doodling absentmindedly.

Vincent would be more attentive to your needs whilst you’re slaving away in the fields. Expect to find small care packages appearing around you as you work; Vincent doesn’t like to be interrupted whilst working so he wouldn’t do it to you. He always leaves something extra though, whether it be a small sketch of whatever you were last talking about or just a note reminding you how much he loves you.

If you are really exhausted in the morning, he’ll force you to go stay in bed, dragging himself into the fields instead. When you eventually get up, going to relieve him of your duties, you’re not prepared for the sight in front of you. Vincent had his back to you, hair up in a messy bun. His shirt was nowhere to be seen, unable to drag your eyes away from the way the muscles in his back tensed as he raked the soil. Sweat glistened on his skin, dirt sticking to him from where it had been kicked up into the air. Your original idea to let him go back inside flew out the window, instead leaning against a nearby fence, ogling your boyfriend until he dragged you back inside with him.

Lester

He tries his hardest to help around the farm, enthusiastic like a puppy, but expect to be clearing up his messes until he gets more accustomed to farm life. Normally it’s the odd sheep escaping but once he accidentally dropped a whole crops worth of carrots. You’re still not sure how.

Lester is a little thieving bastard and has the cheek to act cute about it. “Stop eating my apples Les!” “But I brought you one.” You’d roll your eyes, the boyish grin on his face almost impossible to be mad at. It’s hard to run a business with him around, but it’s far more fun than just you.

On particularly hot days, prepare to be roped into water fights; balloons, hoses, guns (You’re not even sure where he got them from). He would only do this when you were working in the fields, insisting that he’s helping you water them.

Lester still finds roadkill from the nearby highway, but after your disgruntled reaction at bringing back a half-decomposed raccoon, he only brings back fresh carcasses of animals that are actually edible. At this point you’d mastered every rabbit recipe under the sun.

Expect lots of gifts from Lester, even the questionable ones. You’ll end up with a small box in the house filled with trinkets, because you know how his heart would break if you threw anything away that he had given to you.

[lunewell]

The Norwegian Mermaid Association - Part 1

Word count: 1816

Written for MerMay

No TW or CW

Can also be read on Wattpad here

This is a little story I’ve been working on for MerMay, about an actual historical association that operated from 1963-1989. It ended up being rather long, so I split it into two parts, but here is the first instalment (:

Though safely placed a good distance away from the raging waves, the room of sailors and wives smelt overwhelmingly like fresh salt water and newly caught fish. Not that Morten could complain too much, as being served something other than fish and bread was a welcome change, even if it meant being enclosed in a tiny, wooden, scarcely-furnished room with 12 others.

“Doesn't she make the most divine food?” Leif commented to the others, who had creatively spread themselves on any available surface, be it the arm of the worn, uncomfortable chair, or squeezed tightly on the sheepskin covered couch. A chorus of sounds of agreement and nods, made Leif grin widely. He turned to his darling wife: “We should do this every time we return home from sea.” It was said with a semi- teasing smile, his blue eyes crinkled up.

“That’s a great idea, darling,” Hilde responded, tone matching his as she placed a pale hand on his shoulder, “I can’t wait to see you help me make the food!”

“... on second thought, perhaps once a season is more than enough.”

A light laughter came from the room, especially from Hans, Petter, and Kari, who- judging by their empty glasses and off-balanced movements- had already indulged themselves plenty in the alcohol department. Morten smiled too, appreciating the warm atmosphere of the room, and the ease and welcomeness that had swivelled itself within the smells of the ocean.

As not only the youngest but also the newest of the fishermen, he had originally been sceptical of the idea of attending the dinner party, having neither any sort of social smoothness nor a wife to bring with. Not that he wanted a wife, necessarily, as he had never quite considered himself the type.

However, the temptation of shelter and food (and, let’s be honest, the crippling loneliness), had lured him in like a sirens call into Leif’s and Hilde’s warm little wooden house. Lucky for him, it seemed that the others had a sort of strong kinship and bond that let him mostly sit back and observe the others laughing and talking, rather than needing to actively engage in the conversation himself.

“You really do have a God given gift as a housewife, Hilde,” said Ine- or was it Ina? No, definitely Ine, “We at the Norweagian Mermaid Association are so lucky to have someone like you.”

Morten almost spat out his water, ice blue eyes shot wide open. For what was the first time that night, he spoke, in a soft confused tone: “the… Mermaid Association?” He blinked owlishly, face warming up as all eyes- most that same blue colour- met his.

Anne was the first to realise where his confusion stemmed from: “oh dear,” she said, lips curled in an amused smile, “it’s not actually about mermaids. It’s the name of our women’s group, fighting for the rights of wives of seamen everywhere!”

“Oh,” Morten said, sheepishly, “that… uh, makes more sense. Odd name choice, though, considering historically mermaids were dangerous creatures, in line with trolls.”

“Names ‘cause we’re pretty as mermaids,” Kari said, hair messy and a slight slur to her words, “sing ‘s nice ‘s them, too. And-”

“Know a lot about mermaids, Morten?” Thomas interrupted, before Kari could go on her second drunken ramble of the night. Morten twiddled his thumbs, leaning back in the wooden chair and further into the corner, taking another sip from his glass before he answered.

“Yes. Always loved folklore as a child, be it trolls, Nokken, or mermaids,” he turned his head to look out the dirty window and into the fiery sky that implied a stormy morning, “when I was younger, I would dream about swimming around with a beautiful tail. Of course, silly dreams were all it ever was.”

“If there’s one thing I’ve learnt from my years on the ocean,” Thomas began, “it’s that there are a lot of unknown things in the water, and what seems like sailor stories, might be closer to reality than what’s comfortable.”

“The old man had a point,” Hilde said with a smile, auburn hair swaying as she nodded.

“You’re not so far from 50 yourself,” he scoffed, earning him smiles and a series of teasing that Morten sat comfortably back and watched, glad to have the attention of him again. It was almost hard to believe that Hilde was 50, as her wrinkles were few, and her sea green eyes were still bright and filled with wonder. Though, Morten thought, perhaps it was simply the flickering candle light hiding secrets in its shadows.

The crimson evening stretched to a cloud covered night, moon shining dimly into the wooden house and the candle lights darting brightly around them. Kari, Petter, Thomas, and Inne had already left, leaving only Anne and Hans-, who, from what he had picked up had sons old enough that they needn’t return til long, himself, and the keepers of the house; Leif and Hilde.

Morten was certainly not at his prime. The exhaustion from the previous weeks on sea had really begun to take a toll; his dark brown hair was sticking out, his eyes were bagged, and he had very quickly moved himself to the brown sofa covered in sheepskin by the dancing fire in an attempt to quell the bone-deep chill that had spread through his body.

In the distance, he could hear Anne and a very, very drunk Hans giving their goodbyes, though he didn’t catch exactly what they said, as he couldn’t concentrate on the sound. In fact, he couldn’t concentrate much on anything right now, the lights blurring in his vision and the decorations around the room- from the plants to what was frankly a concerning amount of mackerel-themed objects, were swimming around him. He could feel the vice of a headache wrapping around his head like the jaws of a beast.

“Oh you poor dear,” he heard Hilde, who he hadn’t even managed to hear come in, sigh, “you look completely worn out.”

He blinked at her, willing his vision into focus. “It’s alright,” he managed to say, voice laced with drowsiness, “I was about to leave, anyway.” He reluctantly got up, gripping his pounding head as black spots entered his vision.

“In this state? Absolutely not,” Hilde protested, already pulling out a drawer to fetch what looked like a warm blanket, “no point in putting a young man like yourself needlessly in danger. This couch is plenty big enough for you.” She threw him a soft, wolly blanket woven in the pattern of a mackerel tail, the strength of the throw making it very clear she was not up for protest.

And even if he had foolishly attempted to protest her motherly instincts, she kept speaking. “Feel free to get some water if you’re thirsty- there’s glasses in the rightmost top cupboard,” she said, before making her way to what Morten assumed was the bedroom. “Goodnight, sleep well.”

There was something in her tone, almost sing-song like, that made him instantly relax and believe that he would, in fact, sleep well that night. It wasn’t long before she had blown out the last candles, smoke being added to the interesting concoction of scents, that he felt the serenity of night, calm as a pond, make him sink into the deep waters of sleep.

————————————

True to Hilde’s words, he slept better than he had in months, being awakened not in a rush like he usually was, but by the sound of rhythmic but hammering rain on the windows. He rubbed his eyes, stretching out and getting rid of the last remaining signs of his journey into the watery abyss. Looking out the window, he saw that true to his prediction, the morning was dark and stormy, thick clouds and heavy rain laying on a sheet that made it hard to see much of anything. Welcome to Stavanger, he thought almost fondly, well used to the city's frankly abysmal weather, only rivalled by a few Vestland cities, most notably Bergen.

He got up from the couch, and glanced at the clock; almost nine. Though comparatively late to when he usually got up, it seemed that Leif had been more exhausted than he let on, as Morten could easily hear his snores from the thin walls. In fact, listening closer, Morten could hear a lot from the thin walls; he could hear the angry seas, he could hear the sounds of talking crowds not too far away, and oddly enough, what sounded like singing.

Melodic, gorgeous, utterly encapsulating singing, sweet as wind chimes, unlike anything he had ever heard before.

In a completely uncharacteristic move, he found himself almost hypnotically making his way out the door and into the weather. Cold air whipped his cheek, but he found himself barely caring, continuing onwards even as his clothes became so soaked that they merged into his baby soft skin.

He made his way further to the coast and docks, walking past swaying trees and winding paths into the dark, wet stoney beach. By now, he was sure his lips were blue, his face wet from the rain, and yet he could not bring himself to feel anything but excitement as the sweet sounds came closer and closer.

And then, at the edge of a rock, at just the right splash zone for the sprays of crashing waves to hit him, he saw it.

Hilde, short, wavy auburn hair, big sea green, aging eyes, was laying on a rock, a mackrell's tail attached to her lower body, and blue scales sprouted across the skin of the arms she rested her head on. Her ears- inhuman, blue, and shaped like fins, perked up, and the signing stopped as she spotted him. Her expression was initially one of surprise and shock, but it washed away within seconds to a warm smile.

Morten gaped like a trout, and stared at her. He scanned her up and down over and over again, his mind having gone completely blank in a way to try to deal with the shock. Hilde took in his expression, and laughed lightly, though he didn’t see what was particularly funny.

“Well, girls,” Hilde said, and to his minds absolute horror, several more heads of scales and weird ears, among them faces he recognised as Anne, Ine, and Kari from last night, popped out of the water, “looks like we’ll be having a guest in the meeting today”

“So,” an unfamiliar brunette with dark skin and purple scales around her eyes said, “is this yet another sailor from your man's crew that will end up with one of our kind?”

Hilde looked directly at him, her smile teasing with sharp teeth. “Oh, I don’t doubt that. But, for now, let’s get back to the matter at hand, and let the weekly meeting of the Norwegian Mermaid Association, plus 1, begin!”

[oneweekoneband]

a hugely inexpert, absolutely correct examination of The Planets and their role in taylor swift turning out to be such a freak

Astrology is real. Astrology is made-up nonsense. Made-up nonsense is real. One person’s chosen organizing principle for living is no more or less stupid than anyone elses. All of this is true or maybe it isn’t. Don’t roll your eyes too hard, but Joan Didion wasn’t lying—we do tell ourselves stories in order to live. It’s about all we do. I don’t understand the stars and planets because I don’t believe it’s my business what happens up there, plus I’m a little dumb, but I, like any blubbering narcissist, enjoy being told something about myself, and what is a horoscope but an opaque little love note designed to be interpreted by the reader in whatever way suits them best. There are astrologers who write beautiful, empathetic horoscopes that are a balm whether you believe them or not, and in this way astrology has a cultural value which makes any dubious scientific purity irrelevant. I don’t understand the stars and planets, but I have friends that do, and I like hearing whatever they sort out. Certainly, I’m not immune to believing in spurious little rituals; I was raised Catholic. Thinking that your star sign is responsible for certain aspects of your personality is no more impractical than keeping a Saint Christopher medal in your car to protect you from danger while traveling. These days I do both. Astrology is possibly real or possibly is not and maybe it matters what “real” means or else it might not, yeah, but the philosophical questions recede in the face of one fact upon which we can all agree: Taylor Swift has a profoundly upsetting birth chart.

Right off the bat, just from an aesthetic standpoint, this image (above) is not inviting. I don’t like to see it. When I wrote about Taylor Swift on this site in 2013 I didn’t know my moon or rising signs. This knowledge was not yet mandatory for trying to date girls and/or understanding jokes online. I was, at that time, far from even the semi-astrologically-literate state I am in now, yet even then if you’d have shown me this image, I know I’d shudder. It doesn’t take a scholar of any kind to see this and feel a chill down your spine, the itch of cold, spectral fingers closing around your wrist. Look at it again. The painful bisection by those angry blue lines. If you found this painted on a cave wall you’d turn and run back towards the fresh air of the opening, blinking back tears, certain some undead beast was following in your wake. This is a birth chart that says I am capable of writing songs like “All Too Well” but sometimes what I like better is to name a cat after the worst David Fincher movie and do a anti-homophobia music video that actually is so bad it felt somehow like it itself was homophobia. This is a birth chart that says I am going to release my new album, Red (2012), with a promo wherein Papa John’s will bring you a copy of it along with your pizza. This is a birth chart that says yeah, I used to do a fake twang as a teenager, and then I dropped the fake twang, but I can bring it back with no notice sometimes so all the girls (mentally ill adult women who have a Pavlovian response to anything that kinda sounds like “Hey Stephen”) go wild.

Taylor Swift is a Sagittarius. That’s the one with the arrow. It’s one of the good signs, theoretically, because it’s one that I have a lot of in my own chart, and because it’s in November and December, which are months where you can wear all your coats. Some other Sagittarians include Brad Pitt, Britney Spears, Janelle Monae, 8th US President Martin Van Buren, Jane Fonda, my friend C., who, in fact, happens to share all three major placements, sun, moon, and rising, with Ms. Swift, but I still don’t think she’s murdered anyone, and, of course, Jake “Twin fire signs / Four Blue Eyes” Gyllenhaal. So we have basically a lot of hot people and one guy who died of asthma, but who did manage to get the highest ranking job in the country first, though the country was a lot smaller then, and didn’t even have McDonalds yet to serve to teams that win college football tournaments. All in all, seems okay. Her moon is in Cancer. I think this connotes something about the watery depths of her emotional self, and it’s the only astrological placement which gets a shout out in the Joni Mitchell song “Little Green”. Her rising sign is Scorpio which is, like... Well, Scorpio to me is Halloween and Blair Waldorf from Gossip Girl. Medically speaking, I think that influence is how the stylings for the reputation era turned out so very Hot Topic. My moon is in Scorpio so this is a self-own as much as anything else.

Now look at this. What does it mean? Impossible to say, but that will not stop me from concluding that whatever it does mean is definitely bad. It will not stop me from extrapolating that probably a “multiple planet opposition” is the kind of thing that makes a person go to Stonewall during Pride for a surprise appearance but perform “Shake It Off” instead of any of the actual really good and sexy songs. But then, I bet it probably also factored into her developing into the kind of creative mind who would write something as weird and funny and vital as “And I’ve been meaning to tell you / I think your house is haunted / your dad is always mad and that must be why,” so possibly bad is good and good is bad and the various astrological signs just signify the different ways we relate to death. I don’t know. I’m scared.

In the documentary Folkore: The Long Pond Studio Sessions, released on Disney+ last month to accompany the record, because this daughter of three generations of bank presidents is nothing if not a money-maker, Taylor wears a terrifying outfit that I started to like rather than recoil from by about halfway through, and while wearing it espouses a belief that we are all monsters, which I happen to figure is correct. In Madame Clairevoyant’s Guide to the Stars, essential book on astrology and, importantly, the vagaries of the human heart, the incomparable Claire Comstock-Gay writes, “For Sagittarius, the desire is shifting and undefined. This is a drive, above all else, to see, to learn, to experience, to continually seek knowledge. It’s a drive to live a life that never asks or requires that you cede your freedom and never requires you to stop searching.” Certainly, this is the kind of internal compass which would lead to making the unusual, dramatic, and frankly very cool decision to entirely re-record your first six albums when ownership of the original masters has fallen into the hands of a little creep named “””Scooter””” who refuses to relinquish this morally, if not actually legally, false claim. For years I have speculated that actual murder of a human would not be outside of Taylor Swift’s capabilities. This is a statement made with neither praise or criticism attached. It’s a clinical observation from a sterling mind. What I feel with equal conviction, but admit more grudgingly, is that, if it happened, she’d have a perfectly logical reason. (Note: Taylor, if you’re reading this, I am not the type who’d rat anyway. It’s fine. Please don’t sue me.) I’m positive the astrological facts support my findings on this, and if I’m wrong, fortunately I will never find out. Anyway, the next full moon is in 22 days. I always want to look at it and then I forget. There’s a lot going on in space, and while I do feel that any cosmic forces which would put me and Taylor Swift on Earth at the same time are sort of inherently malevolent, I guess it’s been pretty fun, too.

[wlw-lovestruck-fiction]

OMG. I love your work. I am gonna be completely honest Axia Bloodsparrow is just so intresting. Please could do some sort of hc for her if you have time. Thank you

Axia isn't one for romance or dating. Period.

What you'd get with her is probably more of a mistress/servant situation. She'd keep you bonded to her not because the law says it, but because it's easier for her to keep you close that way. She'd treat you well, though, make sure your needs are cared for, even if she seems cold towards you at first. And yes, you will fear her a little knowing what she's capable of... but she won't use it against you.

When she notices your attraction to her, though... she'll get seductive. Running a hand over your arm, leaning just a little too close while whispering so her breath brushes your ear, deliberately sitting in a way that shows off her decolletage...

Your first time will be after a particularly stressful day for her, when she heads back to her room to relax. You'll follow and see her resting in an armchair, sighing, eyes closed... until they cut to you, the eyes of a hunter, and she beckons you on her lap with a single finger. She lets you choose whether to come over or not... and yet, she knows you won't leave.

Don't expect her to be gentle, she has a lot on her plate being gang royalty / cult leader. You won't be able to walk when she's done with you.

You'll gain the added benefit of having her fuck you when she's stressed or in the mood. She always leaves you a choice. She's not going to use her power over you like that.

Expect to wear a collar marking you as hers. Expect her to use her magic vines creatively. You'll learn what she likes, and she will learn your body and see how quickly and often she can get you to scream for her.

She will bring you along to gang meetings and the like to show you off. Humans are rare, and she owns one. It's a show of power, and you'll always be positively railed into oblivion afterwards.

She'd take care not to get attached to you, and she would be able to mask any of that fairly well... but, you being her servant, you'll notice some changes in the way she behaves around you. Like... this little hint of friendliness in her tone. A word of praise instead of an acknowledging nod. A soothing lick on a fresh bruise on your body. Giving you a treat once in a while, and more and more range to the binding spell. Being allowed to sleep in her bed after she fucked you, and occasionally even waking up to her still in bed.

She won't admit she's growing fond of you. What she will do, however, is take you out quite often and say it's to discuss plans (which you'll do for about half an hour). You might learn a few more things about her, even if she's absolutely secretive about her past.

She will kiss you more often. Be gentler when she touches you (although you'll still get that rough sex), involve you more in her plans, acknowledging your opinion and thoughts. She'll share her concerns with you, her ideas, and she'll quickly notice talking to you makes things easier. You notice a fond smile on her face when she looks at you, and her trying to hide it.

You fall for her. Seeing all of her layers, every interesting thing about her. But you don't tell her, because you know that it wouldn't end well.

It doesn't end well regardless. The government gets wind of you and quickly decides to wipe your memory – they can't get Axia because she's too powerful, but you're defenseless.

She's allowed a few last minutes with you... and you tell her you love her.

….

What you remember is the surprised face of a gorgeous, powerful looking woman getting smaller before a door shuts. It's a recurring dream, and you feel like you should know her. But you don't remember. At all. No matter how hard you try.

You see a sparrow on the street, and for some reason, her face appears on your mind.

Whatever you do, nothing comes back – until there's a letter in your mailbox, of unknown origin, thick, soft paper, dark red ink, a rose in the same color drawn on the bottom.

“You might not remember me. I know you've been asking yourself questions and I know the answers. Come to the stone statue near the woods at 11 PM. - Axia Bloodsparrow”

You don't know if it's safe, or anything, but if the sender of this letter knows something you don't... you go there, but you bring some pepper spray, just in case.

No one's there when you arrive... but soon after, you hear steps, and the woman of from your dreams is stepping out of the shadows and softly says your name. There's a second person with her you feel you should know from somewhere, but you don't recognize them, which frustrates you.

“I promised you answers... This could hurt a little bit.” The woman says, something that's almost an apology in her voice.

She snaps her fingers, and suddenly, you're held by vines, unable to move... and the woman steps closer, her hand glowing as she presses it to your forehead. The other person summons some kind of sigil, and it feels like thorns enter your mind, pulling something back that was buried deep, hidden away. Suddenly, images flood your head, an endless stream, and you know her, suddenly you remember all you forgot, and it's so much, as if living through all again, but at high speed. The way she ordered you, touched you, talked to you, kissed you...

When you regain your senses, the other person is gone, but Axia is there, crouching before you, cupping your cheek, the vines gone and you on your knees.

“Did it work?” She asks, and then whispers your name again... and you can't help yourself but hug her, pull her close... that's when your confession suddenly comes back as a memory, and you go stiff, a furious blush entering your face.

“Axia- you- I-”

“Shh.”

She breaks the embrace soon enough, helping you back on your feet.

“So, that's settled.”

You nod, still blushing. She chuckles and holds out her arm, waiting for you to take it.

“Will you come back with me?”

It's basically the way she tells you she loves you too. She remembers your confession in all detail, and she wants you with her. Judging by the way she's stroking your hair, she wants you close.

You can only nod, and for the first time, you really see her smile.

Your relationship changes when you're back. You're not her servant anymore, you're her equal – at least, that's the way she treats you. You're a full part of her plans, not bonded, allowed wherever you want to go – apparently, she did some blackmail to get your citizenship – and no one dares disrespect you.

She still makes you scream at night.

And one night, when she thinks you're asleep, she kisses your shoulder and whispers “I love you too.”

[grigori77]

Summer 2020′s Movies - My Top Ten Favourite Films (Part 2)

10.  BODY CAM – in the face of the current pandemic, viral outbreak cinema has become worryingly prescient lately, but as COVID led to civil unrest there were a couple of films in this summer that REALLY seemed to me to put their finger on the pulse of another particularly shitty zeitgeist.  Admittedly this one highlights a problem that’s been around for a good while, but it came along at just the right time to gain particularly strong resonance, filtering its message into the most reliable form of allegorical social commentary – horror.  The vengeful ghost trope has become pretty familiar over the past decade or so, but by marrying it with the corrupt cop thriller veteran horror screenwriter Nicholas McCarthy (The Pact) has given it a nice fresh spin, and the end result was, for me, a real winner.  Mary J. Blige plays troubled LAPD cop Renee Lomito-Smith, back on the beat after an extended hiatus following a particularly harrowing incident, just as fellow officers from her own precinct begin to die violent deaths under mysterious circumstances, and the only clues are weird, haunting camera footage that only Renee and her new partner, rookie Danny Holledge (Paper Towns and Death Note’s Natt Wolff), manage to see before it inexplicable wipes itself.  Something supernatural is stalking the City of Angels at night, and it’s got a serious grudge against local cops as the increasingly disturbing investigation slowly brings an act of horrific police brutality to light, until Renee no longer knows who in her department she can trust.  This is one of the most insidious scare-fests I’ve enjoyed so far this year, sophomore director Malik Vitthal (Imperial Dreams) weaving an effective atmosphere of pregnant dread and wire-taut suspense while delivering some impressively hair-raising shocks (the stunning minimart sequence is the film’s undeniable highlight), while the ghostly threat is cleverly thought-out and skilfully brought to “life”.  Blige delivers another top-drawer performance, giving Renee a winning combination of wounded fragility and steely resolve that makes for a particularly compelling hero, while Wolff invests Danny with skittish uncertainty and vulnerability in one of his strongest performances to date, and Dexter star David Zayas brings interesting moral complexity to the role of their put-upon superior, Sergeant Kesper.  In these times of heightened social awareness, when the police’s star has become particularly tarnished as unnecessary force, racial profiling and cover-ups have become major hot-button topics, the power and relevance of this particular slice of horror cinema cannot be denied.

9.  BLOOD QUANTUM – it certainly has been a great year for horror, and for most of the summer this was the genre leader, a compellingly fresh take on the zombie outbreak genre with a killer hook.  Canadian writer-director Jeff Barnaby (Rhymes for Young Ghouls) has always clung close to his Native American roots, and he brings strong social relevance to the intriguing early 80s Canadian setting as a really nasty zombie virus wreaks havoc in the Red Crow Indian Reservation and its neighbouring town.  It soon becomes clear, however, that members of the local tribe are immune to the infection, a revelation with far-reaching consequences as the outbreak rages unchecked and society begins to crumble.  Barnaby pulls off some impressive world-building and creates a compellingly grungy post-apocalyptic vibe as the story progresses, while the zombies themselves are a visceral, scuzzy bunch, and there’s plenty of cracking set-pieces and suitably full-blooded kills to keep the gore-hounds happy, while the horror has real intelligence behind it, the script posing interesting questions and delivering some uncomfortable answers.  The characters, meanwhile, are a well-drawn, complex bunch, no black-and-white saviours among them, any one of them capable of some pretty inhuman horrors when the chips are down, and the cast, an interesting mix of seasoned talent and unknowns, all excel in their roles – Michale Greyeyes (Fear the Walking Dead) and Forrest Goodluck (The Revenant) are the closest things the film has to real heroes, the former a fallible everyman as Traylor, the small-town sheriff who’s just trying to do right by his family, the latter unsure of himself as his son, put-upon teenage father-to-be Joseph; meanwhile, Olivia Scriven is tough but vulnerable as his pregnant white girlfriend Charlie, Stonehorse Lone Goeman is a grizzled badass as tough-as-nails tribal elder Gisigu, and Kiowa Gordon (probably best known for playing a werewolf in the Twilight movies) really goes to the dark side as Joseph’s delinquent half-brother Lysol, while there’s a memorably subtle turn from Dead Man’s Gary Farmer as unpredictable loner Moon.  This is definitely one of the year’s darkest films – by and large playing the horror straight, it tightens the screws as the situation grows steadily worse, and almost makes a virtue of wallowing in its hopeless tone – but there’s a fatalistic charm to all the bleakness, even in the downbeat yet tentatively hopeful climax, while it’s hard to deny the ruthless efficiency of the violence on display. This certainly isn’t a horror movie for everyone, but those with a strong stomach and relatively hard heart will find much to enjoy here.  Jeff Barnaby is definitely gonna be one to watch in the future …  

8.  PALM SPRINGS – the summer’s comedy highlight kind of snuck in under the radar, becoming something of an on-demand secret weapon with all the cinemas closed, and it definitely deserves its swiftly growing cult status.  You certainly can’t possibly believe it’s the feature debut of director Max Barbakow, who shows the kind of sharp-witted, steady-handed control of his craft that’s usually the province of far more experienced talents … then again, much of the credit must surely go to seasoned TV comedy writer Andy Siara (Lodge 49), for whom this has been a real labour of love he’s been tending since his film student days.  Certainly all that care, nurture and attention to detail is up there on the screen, the exceptional script singing its irresistible siren song from the start and providing fertile ground for its promising new director to spread his own creative wings.  The premise may be instantly familiar – playing like a latter-day Saturday Night Live take on Groundhog Day (Siara admits it was a major influence), it follows the misadventures of Sarah (How I Met Your Mother’s Cristin Miliota), the black sheep maid of honour at her sweet little sister Tala’s (Riverdale’s Camila Mendes) wedding to seemingly perfect hunk Abe (Supergirl’s Superman, Tyler Hoechlin), as she finds herself repeating the same high-stress day over and over again after being trapped in a mysterious cosmic time-loop along with slacker misanthrope Nyles (Brooklyn Nine Nine megastar Andy Samberg), who’s been stuck in this same situation for MUCH longer – but in Barbakow and Siara’s hands it feels fresh and intriguing, and goes in some surprising new directions before the well-worn central premise can outstay its welcome.  It certainly doesn’t hurt that the cast are uniformly excellent – Miliota is certainly the pounding emotional heart of the film, effortlessly lovable as she flounders against her lot, then learns to accept the unique possibilities it presents, before finally resolving to find a way out, while Samberg has rarely been THIS GOOD, truly endearing in his sardonic apathy as it becomes clear he’s been stuck like this for CENTURIES, and they make an enjoyably fiery couple with snipey chemistry to burn; meanwhile there’s top-notch support from Mendes and Hoechlin, The OC’s Peter Gallagher as Sarah and Tala’s straight-laced father, the ever-reliable Dale Dickey, a thoroughly adorable turn from Jena Freidman and, most notably, a full-blooded scene-stealing performance from the mighty J.K. Simmonds as Roy, Nyles’ nemesis, who he inadvertently trapped in the loop before Sarah and is, understandably, none too happy about it.  This really is an absolute laugh-riot, today’s more post-modern sense of humour allowing the central pair (and their occasional enemy) to indulge in even more extreme consequence-free craziness than Bill Murray ever got away with back in the day, but like all the best comedies there’s also a strong emotional foundation under the humour, leading us to really care about these people and what happens to them, while the story throws moments of true heartfelt power at us, particularly in the deeply cathartic climax.  Ultimately this was one of the summer’s biggest surprises, a solid gold gem that I can’t recommend enough.

7.  THE LAST DAYS OF AMERICAN CRIME – the summer’s other heavyweight Zeitgeist fondler is a deeply satirical chunk of speculative dystopian sci-fi clearly intended as a cinematic indictment of Trump’s broken America, but it became far more potent and prescient in these … ahem … troubled times.  Adapted by screenwriter Karl Gadjusek (Oblivion, Stranger Things, The King’s Man) from the graphic novel by Rick Remender and Greg Tocchini for underrated schlock-action cinema director Olivier Megaton (Transporter 3, Colombiana, the last two Taken films), this Netflix original feature seemed like a fun way to kill a cinema-deprived Saturday night in the middle of the Lockdown, but ultimately proved to have a lot more substance than expected.  It’s powered by an intriguing premise – in a nearly lawless 2024, the US government is one week away from implementing a nationwide synaptic blocker signal called the API (American Peace Initiative) which will prevent the public from being able to commit any kind of crime – and focuses on a strikingly colourful bunch of outlaw antiheroes with an audacious agenda – prodigious Detroit bank robber Bricke (Édgar Ramiréz) is enlisted by Kevin Cash (Funny Games and Hannibal’s Michael Carmen Pitt), a wayward scion of local crime family the Dumois, and his hacker fiancée Shelby Dupree (Material Girl’s Anna Brewster) to pull off what’s destined to be the last great crime in American history, a daring raid on the night of the signal to steal over a billion dollars from the Motor City’s “money factory” and then escape across the border into Canada.  From this deceptively simple premise a sprawling action epic was born, carried along by a razor sharp, twisty script and Megaton’s typically hyperbolic, showy auteur directing style and significant skill at crafting thrillingly explosive set-pieces, while the cast consistently deliver quality performances.  Ramiréz has long been one of those actors I really love to watch, a gruff, quietly intense alpha male whose subtle understatement hides deep reserves of emotional intensity, while Dupree takes a character who could have been a thinly-drawn femme fetale and invests her with strong personal drive and steely resolve, and there’s strong support from Neil Blomkampf regulars Sharlto Copley and Brandon Auret as, respectively, emasculated beat cop Sawyer and brutal Mob enforcer Lonnie French, as well as a nearly unrecognisable Patrick Bergin as local kingpin (and Kevin’s father) Rossi Dumois; the film is roundly stolen, however, by Pitt, a phenomenal actor I’ve always thought we just don’t see enough of, here portraying a spectacularly sleazy, unpredictable force of nature who clearly has his own dark agenda, but whom we ultimately can’t help rooting for even as he stabs us in the back.  This is a cracking film, a dark and dangerous thriller of rare style and compulsive verve that I happily consider to be Megaton’s best film to date BY FAR – needless to say it was a major hit for Netflix when it dropped, clearly resonating with its audience given what’s STILL going on in the real world, and while it may have been roundly panned in reviews I think, like some of the platform’s other more glossy Original hits (Bright springs to mind), it’s destined for a major critical reappraisal and inevitable cult status before too long …

6.  HAMILTON – arriving just as Black Lives Matter reached fever-pitch levels, this feature presentation of the runaway Broadway musical smash-hit could not have been better timed.  Shot over three nights during the show’s 2016 run with the original cast and cut together with specially created “setup shots”, it’s an immersive experience that at once puts you right in amongst the audience (at times almost a character themselves, never seen but DEFINITELY heard) but also lets you experience the action up close.  And what action – it’s an incredible show, a thoroughly fascinating piece of work that reads like something very staid and proper on paper (an all-encompassing biographical account of the life and times of American Founding Father Alexander Hamilton) but, in execution, becomes something very different and EXTREMELY vital.  The execution certainly couldn’t be further from the usual period biopic fare this kind of historical subject matter usually gets (although in the face of recent top-notch revisionist takes like Marie Antoinette, The Great and Tesla it’s not SO surprising), while the cast is not at all what you’d expect – with very few notable exceptions the cast is almost entirely people of colour, despite the fact that the real life individuals they’re playing were all very white indeed.  That said, every single one of them is an absolute revelation – the show’s writer-composer Lin-Manuel Miranda (already riding high on the success of In the Heights) carries the central role of Hamilton with effortless charm and raw star power, Leslie Odom Jr. (Smash, Murder On the Orient Express) is duplicitously complex as his constant nemesis Aaron Burr, Christopher Jackson (In the Heights, Moana, Bull) oozes integrity and nobility as his mentor and friend George Washington, Phillipa Soo is sweet and classy as his wife Eliza while Renée Elise Goldsberry (The Immortal Life of Henrietta Jacks, Altered Carbon) is fiery and statuesque as her sister Angelica Schuyler (the one who got away), and Jonathan Groff (Mindhunter) consistently steals every scene he’s in as fiendish yet childish fan favourite King George III; ultimately, however, the show (and the film) belongs to veritable powerhouse Daveed Diggs (Blindspotting, TV’s Snowpiercer) in a spectacular duel role, starting subtly but gaining scene-stealing momentum as French Revolutionary Gilbert du Motier, the Marquis de Lafayette, before EXPLODING onto the stage in the second half as indomitable eventual American President Thomas Jefferson.  Not having seen the stage show, I was taken completely by surprise by this, revelling in its revisionist genius and offbeat, quirky hip-hop charm, spellbound by the skilful ease with which is takes the sometimes quite dull historical fact and skews it into something consistently entertaining and absorbing, transported by the catchy earworm musical numbers and thoroughly tickled by the delightfully cheeky sense of humour strung throughout (at least when I wasn’t having my heart broken by moments of raw dramatic power). Altogether it’s a pretty unique cinematic experience I wish I could have actually gotten to see on the big screen, and one I’ve consistently recommended to all my friends, even the ones who don’t usually like musicals.  As far as I’m concerned it doesn’t need a proper Les Misérables style screen adaptation – this is about as perfect a presentation as the show could possibly hope for.

5.  SPUTNIK – the summer’s horror highlight (despite SERIOUSLY tough competition) is a guaranteed sleeper hit that I almost totally missed, stumbling across the trailer one day on YouTube and being completely bowled over by its potential, prompting me to hunt it down by any means necessary.  The feature debut of Russian director Egor Abramenko, this first contact sci-fi chiller is about as far from E.T. as it’s possible to get, sharing some of the same DNA as Carpenter’s The Thing but proudly carving its own path with consummate skill and definitely signalling great things to come from its brand new helmer and relative unknown screenwriters Oleg Malovichko and Andrei Zolotarev.  Oksana Akinshina (probably best known in the West for her powerful climactic cameo in The Bourne Supremacy) is the beating heart of the film as neurophysiologist Tatyana Yuryevna Klimova, brought in to aid in the investigation in the Russian wilderness circa 1983 after an orbital research mission goes horribly wrong.  One of the cosmonauts dies horribly, while the other, Konstantin (The Duelist’s Pyotr Fyodorov) seems unharmed, but it quickly becomes clear that he’s now playing host to something decidedly extraterrestrial and potentially terrifying, and as Tatyana becomes more deeply embroiled in her assignment she comes to realise that her superiors, particularly mysterious Red Army project leader Colonel Semiradov (The PyraMMMid’s Fyodor Bondarchuk), have far darker plans for Konstantin and his new “friend” than she could ever imagine.  This is about as dark, intense and nightmarish as this particular sub-genre gets, a magnificently icky body horror that slowly builds its tension as we’re gradually exposed to the various truths and the awful gravity of the situation slowly reveals itself, punctuated by skilfully executed shocks and some particularly horrifying moments when the evils inflicted by the humans in charge prove to be far worse than anything the alien can do, while the ridiculously talented writers have a field day pulling the rug out from under us again and again, never going for the obvious twist and keeping us guessing right to the devastating ending, while the beautifully crafted digital creature effects are nothing short of astonishing and thoroughly creepy.  Akinshina dominates the film with her unbridled grace, vulnerability and integrity, the relationship that develops between Tatyana and Konstantin (Fyodorov delivering a beautifully understated turn belying deep inner turmoil) feeling realistically earned as it goes from tentatively wary to ultimately, tragically bittersweet, while Bondarchuk invests the Colonel with a subtly nuanced air of tarnished authority and restrained brutality that makes him one of my top screen villains for the year.  Guaranteed to go down as one of 2020’s great sleeper hits, I can’t speak of this film highly enough – it’s a genuine revelation, an instant classic for whom I’ll sing its praises for the remainder of the year and beyond, and I wish utmost success to all the creative talents involved in the future.  The Invisible Man still rules the roost in the year’s horror stakes, but this runs a VERY close second …

4.  GREYHOUND – when the cinemas closed back in March, the fate of many of the major summer blockbusters we’d been looking forward to was thrown into terrible doubt. Some were pushed back to more amenable dates in the autumn or winter, others knocked back a whole year to fill summer slots for 2021, but more than a few simply dropped off the radar entirely with the terrible words “postponed until further notice” stamped on them, and I lamented them all, this one in particular.  It hung in there longer than some, stubbornly holding onto its June release slot for as long as possible, but eventually it gave up the ghost too … but thanks to Apple TV+, not for long, ultimately releasing less than a month later than intended.  Thankfully the final film was worth the fuss, a taut World War II suspense thriller that’s all killer, no filler – set during the infamous Battle of the Atlantic, it portrays the constant life-or-death struggle faced by the Allied warships assigned to escort the transport convoys as they crossed the ocean, defending their charges from German U-boats.  Adapted from C.S. Forester’s famous 1955 novel The Good Shepherd by Tom Hanks and directed by Aaron Schneider (Get Low), the narrative focuses on the crew of the escort leader, American destroyer USS Fletcher, codenamed Greyhound, and in particular its captain, Commander Ernest Krause (Hanks), a career sailor serving his first command.  As they cross “the Pit”, the most dangerous mid stretch of the journey where they spend days without air-cover, they find themselves shadowed by “the Wolf Pack”, a particularly cunning group of German subs that begin to pick away at the convoy’s stragglers.  Faced with daunting odds, a dwindling supply of vital depth-charges and a ruthless, persistent enemy, Krause must make hard choices to bring his ships home safe … jumping into the thick of the action within the first ten minutes and maintaining that tension for the remainder of its trim 90-minute run, this is screen suspense par excellence, a sleek textbook example of how to craft a compelling big screen knuckle-whitener with zero fat and maximum reward, delivering a series of desperate naval scraps packed with hide-and-seek intensity, heart-in-mouth near-misses and fist-in-air cathartic payoffs by the bucket-load.  Hanks is subtly magnificent, the calm centre of the narrative storm as a supposed newcomer to this battle arena who could have been BORN for it, bringing to mind the similarly unflappable turn he delivered in Captain Phillips and certainly not suffering by comparison; by and large he’s the focus point, but other crew members do make strong (if sometimes quite brief) impressions, particularly Stephen Graham as Krause’s reliably seasoned XO, Lt. Commander Charlie Cole, The Magnificent Seven’s Manuel Garcia-Rulfo and Just Mercy’s Rob Morgan, while Elisabeth Shue does a lot with a very small part in brief flashbacks as Krause’s fiancée Evelyn.  Relentless, powerful, exhilarating and thoroughly unforgettable, this was one of the true action highlights of the summer, and one hell of a war flick.  I’m so glad it made the cut for the season …

3.  PROJECT POWER – with Marvel and DC pushing their tent-pole titles back into late autumn in the face of COVID, the usual superhero antics we’ve come to expect over the main blockbuster season were pretty thin on the ground, leading us to find our geeky fan thrills elsewhere.  Unfortunately, pickings were frustratingly slim – Korean comic book actioner Gundala was entertaining but workmanlike, while Thor AU-take Mortal was underwhelming despite strong direction from Troll Hunter’s André Øvredal, and I’ve already made my feelings clear on the frustration of The New Mutants – thank the Gods, then, for Netflix, once again riding to the rescue with this enjoyably offbeat super-thriller, which takes an intriguing central premise and really runs with it.  New designer drug Power has hit the streets of New Orleans, able to give anyone who takes it a superpower for five minutes … the only problem is, until you try it, you won’t know what your own unique talent is – for some, it could mean five minutes of invisibility, or insane levels of super-strength, but other powers can be potentially lethal, the really unlucky buggers just blowing up on the spot.  Robin (The Hate U Give’s Dominique Fishback) is a teenage Power-pusher with dreams of becoming a rap star, dealing the pills so she can help her diabetic mum; Frank Shaver (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) is one of her customers, an NOPD detective who uses his power of near invulnerability to even the playing field when powered crims cause a disturbance.  Their lives are turned upside down when Art (Jamie Foxx) arrives in town – he’s a seriously badass ex-soldier determined to hunt down the source of Power by any means necessary, and he’s not above tearing the Big Easy apart to do it.  This is a fun, gleefully infectious  rollercoaster that doesn’t take itself too seriously, revelling in the anarchic potential of its premise and crafting some suitably OTT effects-driven chaos brought to pleasingly visceral fruition by its skilfully inventive director, Ariel Schulman (Catfish, Nerve, Viral), while Mattson Tomlin (the screenwriter of next year’s incendiary DCEU headline act The Batman) takes his script in some very interesting directions and poses some fascinating questions about what Power’s TRULY capable of.  Gordon-Levitt and Fishback are both brilliant, the latter particularly impressing in what’s sure to be a major breakthrough role for her, and the friendship their characters share is pretty adorable, while Foxx really is a force to be reckoned with, pretty chill even when he’s in deep shit but fully capable of turning into a bona fide killing machine at the flip of a switch, and there’s strong support from Westworld’s Rodrigo Santoro as Biggie, Power’s delightfully oily kingpin, Courtney B. Vance as Frank’s by-the-book superior, Captain Crane, Amy Landecker as Gardner, the morally bankrupt CIA spook responsible for the drug’s production, and Machine Gun Kelly as Newt, a Power dealer whose explosive pyrotechnic “gift” really isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.  Exciting, inventive, frequently amusing and infectiously likeable, this was some of the most uncomplicated “cinematic” fun I had this summer.  Not bad for something which I’m sure was originally destined to become one of the season’s B-list features …

2.  THE OLD GUARD – Netflix’s undisputable TOP OFFERING of the summer came damn close to bagging the whole season, and I can’t help thinking that even if some of the stiffer competition had still been present it may well have still finished this high. Gina Prince-Blythewood (Love & Basketball, the Secret Life of Bees) directs comics legend Greg Rucka’s adaptation of his own popular title with uncanny skill and laser-focused visual flair considering there’s nothing on her previous CV to suggest she’d be THIS good at mounting a stomping good ultraviolent action thriller, ushering in this thoroughly engrossing tale of four ancient, invulnerable immortal warriors – Andy AKA Andromache of Scythia (Charlize Theron), Booker AKA Sebastian de Livre (Matthias Schoenaerts), Joe AKA Yusuf Al-Kaysani (Wolf’s Marwan Kenzari) and Nicky AKA Niccolo di Ginova (Trust’s Luca Marinelli) – who’ve been around forever, hiring out their services as mercenaries for righteous causes while jealously guarding their identities for fear of horrific experimentation and exploitation should their true natures ever be discovered.  Their anonymity is threatened, however, when they’re uncovered by former CIA operative James Copley (Chiwetel Ejiofor), working for the decidedly dodgy pharmaceutical conglomerate run by sociopathic billionaire Steven Merrick (Harry Melling, formerly Dudley in the Harry Potter movies), who want to capture these immortals so they can patent whatever it is that makes them keep on ticking … just as a fifth immortal, US Marine Nile Freeman (If Beale Street Could Talk’s KiKi Layne), awakens after being “killed” on deployment in Afghanistan.  The supporting players are excellent, particularly Ejiofor, smart and driven but ultimately principled and deeply conflicted about what he’s doing, even if he does have the best of intentions, and Melling, the kind of loathsome, reptilian scumbag you just love to hate, but the film REALLY DOES belong to the Old Guard themselves – Schoenaerts is a master brooder, spot-on casting as the group’s relative newcomer, only immortal since the Napoleonic Wars but clearly one seriously old soul who’s already VERY tired of the lifestyle, while Joe and Nicky (who met on opposing sides of the Crusades) are simply ADORABLE, an unapologetically matter-of-fact gay couple who are sweet, sassy and incredibly kind, the absolute emotional heart of the film; it’s the ladies, however, that are most memorable here.  Layne is exceptional, investing Nile with a steely intensity that puts her in good stead as her new existence threatens to overwhelm her and MORE THAN qualified to bust heads alongside her elders … but it’s ancient Greek warrior Andy who steals the film, Theron building on the astounding work she did in Atomic Blonde to prove, once and for all, that there’s no woman on Earth who looks better kicking arse than her (as Booker puts it, “that woman has forgotten more ways to kill than entire armies will ever learn”); in her hands, Andy truly is a goddess of death, tough as tungsten alloy and unflappable even in the face of hell itself, but underneath it all she hides a heart as big as any of her friends’. They’re an impossibly lovable bunch and you feel you could follow them on another TEN adventures like this one, which is just as well, because Prince-Blythewood and Rucka certainly put them through their paces here – the drama is high (but frequently laced with a gentle, knowing sense of humour, particularly whenever Joe and Nicky are onscreen), as are the stakes, and the frequent action sequences are top-notch, executed with rare skill and bone-crunching zest, but also ALWAYS in service to the story. Altogether this is an astounding film, a genuine victory for its makers and, it seems, for Netflix themselves – it’s become one of the platform’s biggest hits to date, earning well-deserved critical acclaim and great respect and genuine geek love from the fanbase at large. After this, a sequel is not only inevitable, it’s ESSENTIAL …

1.  TENET – granted, the streaming platforms (particularly Netflix and Amazon) certainly did save our cinematic summer, but I’m still IMMEASURABLY glad that the season’s ultimate top-spot winner was one I got to experience on THE BIG SCREEN.  You gotta hand it to Christopher Nolan, he sure hung in there, stubbornly determined that his latest cinematic masterpiece WOULD be released in cinemas in the summer (albeit ultimately landing JUST inside the line in the final week of August), and it was worth all the fuss because, for me, this was THE PERFECT MOVIE for me to get return to cinemas with.  I mean, okay, in the end it WASN’T the FIRST new movie I saw after the reopening, that honour went to Unhinged, but THIS was my first real Saturday night out big screen EXPERIENCE since March.  Needless to say, Nolan didn’t disappoint this time any more than he has on any of his consistently spectacular previous releases, delivering another twisted, mind-boggling headfuck of a full-blooded experiential sensory overload that comes perilously close to toppling his long-standing auteur-peak, Inception (itself second only by fractions to The Dark Knight as far as I’m concerned). To say much at all about the plot would give away major spoilers – personally I’d recommend just going in as cold as possible, indeed you really should just stop reading this right now and just GO SEE IT.  Still with us?  Okay … the VERY abridged version is that it’s about a secret war being waged between the present and the future by people capable of “inverting” time in substances, objects, people, whatever, into which the Protagonist (BlacKkKlansman’s John David Washington), an unnamed CIA agent, has been dispatched in order to prevent a potential coming apocalypse. Washington is once again on top form, crafting a robust and compelling morally complex heroic lead who’s just as comfortable negotiating the minefields of black market intrigue as he is breaking into places or dispatching heavies, Kenneth Branagh delivers one of his most interesting and memorable performances in years as brutal Russian oligarch Andrei Sator, a genuinely nasty piece of work who may be the year’s very best screen villain, Elizabeth Debicki (The Night Manager, Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2, Widows) brings strength, poise and wounded integrity to the role of Sator’s estranged wife, Kat, and Aaron Taylor-Johnson gets to use his own accent for once as tough-as-nails British Intelligence officer Ives, while there are brief but consistently notable supporting turns and cameos from Martin Donovan, Yesterday’s HImesh Patel, Dirk Gently’s Fiona Dourif and, of course, Nolan’s good luck charm, Michael Caine.  The cast’s biggest surprise, however, is Robert Pattinson, truly a revelation in what has to be, HANDS DOWN, his best role to date, Neil, the Protagonist’s mysterious handler – he’s by turns cheeky, slick, duplicitous and thoroughly badass, delivering an enjoyably multi-layered, chameleonic performance which proves what I’ve long maintained, that the former Twilight star is actually a fucking amazing actor, and on the basis of this, even without that amazing new teaser trailer making the rounds, I think the debate about whether or not he’s the right choice for the new Batman is now academic.  As we’ve come to expect from Nolan, this is a TRUE tour-de-force experience, a visual masterpiece and an endlessly engrossing head-scratcher, Nolan’s screenplay bringing in some seriously big ideas and throwing us some major narrative knots and loopholes, constantly wrong-footing the viewer while also setting up truly revelatory payoffs from seemingly low-key, unimportant beginnings – this is a film you need to be awake and attentive for or you could miss something pretty vital.  The action sequences are, as ever, second to none, some of the year’s very best set-pieces coming thick and fast and executed with some of the most accomplished skill in the business, while Nolan-regular cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema (Interstellar and Dunkirk, as well as the heady likes of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, SPECTRE and Ad Astra) once again shows he’s one of the best camera-wizards in the business today by delivering some truly mesmerising visuals.  Notably, Nolan’s other regular collaborator, composer Hans Zimmer, is absent here (although he has good reason, currently working on his dream project, the fast-approaching screen adaptation of Dune), but Ludwig Göransson (best known for his regular collaborations with Ryan Coogler on the likes of Fruitvale Station, Creed and Black Panther, as well as truly awesome work on The Mandalorian) makes for a fine replacement, crafting an intriguingly internalised, post-modern musical landscape that thrums and pulses in time with the story and emotions of the characters rather than the action itself. Interestingly it’s on the subject of sound that some of the film’s rare detractions have been levelled, and I can see some of the points – the soundtrack mix is an all-encompassing thing, and there are times when the dialogue can be overwhelmed, but in Nolan’s defence as a film this is a heady, immersive experience, something you really need to concentrate on, so these potential flaws are easily forgiven.  As a piece of filmmaking art, this is another flawless wonder from one of the true masters of the craft working in cinema today, but it’s art with palpable substance, a rewarding whole that really HAS TO BE experienced on the big screen.  So put your snobbery at post-lockdown restrictions aside for the moment and get yourself down to your nearest cinema so you can experience it for yourself.  You won’t be disappointed.  Right now, this is my movie of the year, and with only one possible exception, I really don’t see that changing …

[12redsky34]

wip roundup

I have been tag-teamed by @autisticmidoriyas and @yamadadzawa so I guess it’s my turn! Thanks for inviting me to share my many ideas, both of u xD

Just gonna preface this by saying that I have only three actual in-progress and posted wips at the moment, so I’ll split this into written and currently unwritten. In addition, while most of my ideas are for BNHA, I have a few for Haikyuu as well that I’ll include.

 BNHA

1. The Soul Behind The Quirk: Currently the fic I’ve written the most content for, and it’s been tonnes of fun to write!. It basically started with the thought “what if Izuku could see like... souls?” and it spiralled from there. It starts with Hisashi, an S-class villain (not AfO though), coming to Izuku and Inko’s home. He and a currently unnamed accomplice murder Inko and heavily injure Izuku, leaving Aizawa to rescue him from the burning apartment. Izuku force-manifests a quirk from the stress of the experience.

2. Dancing through Embers: This one is still in the baby stages, but it features quirkless, trans Izuku and Hitoshi, graffiti artist Hitoshi, vigilante Izuku, vigilante and brotherly Dabi (eventually, it’s a bit far down the line at the moment), and eventual parental Aizawa. Also featuring the characters in Karasuno from Haikyuu!! You don’t need to know anything about Haikyuu to enjoy them, but they’re a nice addition for those who do. This one’s more serious than most of my other fics so far, and I’ve outlined a lot more than the rest. I’m actually quite proud of what I’ve planned, and you may take that as you will ;)

3. A Study of Soulmates: You want a soulmate AU? You want good dad Hisashi? Want a quirkless Izuku who doesn’t ever step foot into UA? Want an Izuku that will eventually work in a coffee shop as an informant on the side? Well this is the place for you! This one is in it’s early early stages; like I just started posting last month, early. It’s mostly going to be fairly light-hearted, with both platonic and romantic soulmates, but Tododeku is planned as a main pairing and there will be plenty of shenanigans surrounding them.

3. I’m falling to pieces (falling to pieces): A oneshot that is still being written. I’ve seen a lot of fics where Aizawa and/or his classmates find out about Izuku’s previous quirklessness somehow, and this was actually inspired from this post by @zippodippo! Features all the dadzawa content!

4. Dragon!Quirked Izuku AU: This hasn’t had too much thought beyond “I want to make Izuku a dragon” and “Ooooh what if he was taken in by the Hero Commission just like Hawks?” Basically in this fic, his quirk manifested a little late and quite violently; he effectively goes feral for a short while until heroes are called in to subdue him. He would have been pardoned for his quirk use considering it happened while he was afraid and under significant stress, but the power his quirk had even then caught the Commission’s attention and they basically forced Inko and Hisashi to hand him over. There isn’t a lot they can do about it.

5. Shady Dealings: Doesn’t really have an end goal at the moment, but this basically started from “I want to write a villain/informant AU that I feel would be true to Izuku’s character,” and it resulted in this. Inko works as a nurse/doctor of sorts in the underground for villains, vigilantes, or just people who can’t afford an actual hospital for whatever reason. Hisashi works as a support mechanic of sorts for the underground, mostly for vigilantes and for the poor division of the population who can’t afford traditional prosthetics. Both of them take payment in the form of money, favours, or both. They’re also very careful to keep anyone from targeting Izuku, and make active attempts to get him into a more lawful line of work, but that backfires of course. I plan for it to be pretty lighthearted despite the serious subject.

6. Everyone is Brainwashed: I see a lot of fix-it fics where those involved are often like “why didn’t I see/notice this before?” and I thought “well... what if it’s because everyone literally can’t?” The basic premise is this: when UA was first being planned and built, AfO placed a very subtle but very wide-ranged brainwashing on anyone involved in major decisions regarding the school. He can’t change how anyone under influence acts in a major way, but he can, for instance, make someone decide not to put in place one safety measure or another. This is a chink he eventually takes advantage of through the USJ arc. Things are going quite well for him until one Izuku Midoriya walks in completely unaffected by the brainwashing zone he’s put in place.

7. Anomaly!AU: Basically if Izuku is an SCP from SCP: Containment Breach. I’ve taken a fair amount of creative liberties with this one, partially because I have never actually played the game and partially because fitting things like that into a world of quirks can be a little tricky. He’ll be an SCP of my own design, I’ve actually drawn him quite a bit at this point, but he wasn’t originally one. AfO took him as a child and felt like experimenting so he sort of crammed a lot of weird, random quirks into him, but it kind of backfired, and Izuku became something not quite human anymore. There’s not a whole lot planned yet but I have some ideas!

Haikyuu!!

1. Lightning Strikes Twice: Basically a HTTYD AU with some creative liberties. Hinata is a rare lightning Dragon, known in the racing world for his speed. The only problem is, his paired rider is abusive and keeps pushing and demanding, always telling him he isn’t good enough even though he keeps trying. Kageyama is a renowned dragon rider, known for his excellent control on the saddle and for being able to navigate racing courses even veterans find hard to clear. However, he never manages to find a dragon he truly connects with, and to make it far in the racing industry, that kind of connection is basically a requirement. Tragic accidents drive them from their old teams and bring them to Karasuno, where they both get a fresh start.

2. Giant Crow Hinata: Almost everything is the same except Hinata isn’t human, and lives in the mountains with his family, who are also not human. I haven’t decided what exactly they are past giant creatures of some sort. Hinata belongs to a clan of giant bird creatures, and he specifically is a crow. One night in a storm, he gets injured and ends up in Kageyama’s back yard. Kageyama’s mother patches him up and sends him home, but he comes back, and eventually he and Tobio end up in a routine of sorts where Hinata will sit there and listen to Tobio talking about volleyball. One day, Hinata arrives but he’s in a more human-like form and demands that he let Tobio try and play with him. That’s about all I got for that so far.

3. Pokemon AU: This one is. So involved, mostly on the worldbuilding side of things. For those who know anything at all about the main series Pokemon games, this will be set in Galar (Sword/Shield). Hinata grows up wanting nothing more than to be a Pokemon Ranger (they have a slightly different role than “canon” here), whereas Kageyama was born from a Gym Leader and the CEO of an influential company and has had heavy expectations on him basically since birth. The stress and fear of failure make him cold and controlling at first, so when he does his first run of the Pokemon League, he fails. He gets advice to visit the Wild Area where a certain Ranger spends most of his time. Needless to say, when he meets this scrawny, wild-haired little Ranger, he is not expecting it to be while he himself is being chased around by an angry Dragon-type until Hinata arrives and calms it down by just being there. He has many questions.

Aaaaand that’s it I believe! If any of you want to ask me questions about these, feel free to leave an ask! I’d be happy to talk about them more :D As for tagging, uhhhh... I dunno, @plusultrachaos, @faelwenholdsthelight, and @psychicshr00m, if y’all haven’t done so and would like to do this!

[missmonsters2]

Move Me Along

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Fem!Reader/OFC

Prompt Request: Anonymous - 12: I don’t even care that you’re breaking me. I am an absolute fucking moron because I’m always going to love you.

Notes: Thanks for sending this in! Sorry it took so long. Originally, I had not included Carol as someone I would write for in the dialogue prompt list I created, but instead of not doing it, I just saved it for near the end so I could have time to obsess her character. Is it accurate? I sure hope so (I watched Captain Marvel an unhealthy amount of times).

Warnings: Dis pretty sad ngl

Count: 5033

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“It’s over.”

Those words had put your world to an abrupt stop. There was a sudden hollowness in your ears as if everyone was fading away and you could only hyper-focus on those words.

You’re confused.

The day started off normal. It was a beautiful day out, you had gotten your work done early in the week knowing that Carol was coming home today. As a pilot, she was often gone, but the time apart was never something that bothered you.

You had your thing going on, and she had her thing. The best part of was making time out of your guys’ crazy lives to be together. 

You liked that.

You love her. 

And you thought she loved you too.

So, you’re confused to how you’re now sitting here at your guys’ favorite café, favorite drinks in hand, and Carol telling you it’s over between the two of you.

“Why?” You breathed out, suddenly feeling like you had no air in your lungs.

Maybe it was something you did? Or something you said.

Whatever it was, it had to be something you could fix, right?

But Carol doesn’t offer an explanation.

No explanation means there’s no way for you to fix it.

“It just is,” Carol says, shrugging her shoulders at you with her arms crossed as if she doesn’t know what else to tell you. 

And you’re not sure what hurts more. 

The fact that it’s over or that there’s seemingly no reason behind it (or Carol doesn’t care about you enough to dignify you with a reason).

You don’t say anything in return. You shakily put your cup of coffee down, barely even noticing how nosily it clanks against its plate. You get up, grab your bag, not bothering to say anything to Carol before you leave.

She doesn’t say anything to make you stay.

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The next two weeks are hell.

You spent the first three days ugly crying in your bed, not even bothering to get up to shower. You consumed unhealthy amounts of ice cream and then binged watched shitty romance movies.

Why did anyone invent The Notebook anyways? What utter garbage fills people with false ideas about love.

Eventually, you couldn’t stomach romance movies anymore and went back to work.

“Jesus, you look like shit,” your coworker, Shuri, tells you as you take your seat in your office.

“Thanks,” you grumble, only catching your appearance on your computer screen.

God, you did look like shit.

Your eyes were puffy and red, you were blotchy in general. Your hair was barely together in the ponytail you put it in, and you didn’t even bother putting on makeup. 

You looked and felt like a train wreck.

Your head immediately falls into your hands as your fingers lightly press against your eyes.

“Damn, what happened?” Shuri asked as she came into your office completely and shut the door. You hadn’t come to the office for a couple days, and you hadn’t exactly answered anyone’s texts.

You mumbled something, but it was unintelligible.

“What?” Shuri asked with furrowed brows.

“I got dumped!” You said more clearly, bringing your face out of your hands.

The words were a sharp reminder that Carol left you like nothing.

Your eyes water again and you’re so frustrated from crying all the time. 

“Bitch, what? I thought everything was fine. You were practically skipping out of the office last week.” Shuri demanded with a hard frown. 

You scoffed, “Well, I guess it wasn’t fine. I don’t know. I don’t know why it’s over.”

“You telling me Carol dumped you and gave you no explanation?” Shuri asked with narrowed eyes because that sounded like bullshit.

You had a headache forming, and you just looked extremely pitiful to Shuri.

“Okay, that is bullshit. I’m guessing you spent those last two weeks crying, eating ice cream, and watching shitty romance movies?”

You mumbled gibberish of your mouth, but it confirmed the truth to Shuri who rolled her eyes.

“Alright, two weeks of moping is enough. You need to get your ass on another date.”

You scrunched your face up at the thought. “I really don’t think I’m ready for another relationship, Shuri.”

“Who the fuck said anything about another relationship? Bitch, I said a date. You need to get out there, get your flirt on, get flirted on, let the chips fall where they fall. I know the perfect girl for you too. If your ass gets laid, great. If not, you’ll still have had a great time.” Shuri was already on her phone, texting away.

Shuri looks up at you, shoving her phone in your face. “Your date for tonight is named Natasha. Wear a nice dress and meet her at this bar, got it? If you don’t show up, your paperwork for this week will continuously and mysteriously go missing.”

You’re barely able to catch the name of the bar on her phone before she pulls it away. You groan loudly because there’s no way for you to get out of this date. Shuri can get very creative in making your work-life difficult. If she takes your physical and electronic copies of your paperwork for the upcoming week, you were going to be severely fucked for your upcoming projects.

Shuri just smugly grins at you before she leaves your office.

You suddenly wished you had just stayed home for the rest of your life. 

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You’re sipping on a screwdriver looking around in the crowded bar. It’s definitely a high-end bar, and you were glad Shuri told you to wear a nice dress.

You felt someone slide up next to you.

“You must be Shuri’s friend.”

An ungodly hot redhead with bedroom eyes and just the right sultry smile was looking and clearly talking to you. She identified you with such confidence; it made your throat go dry.

“Um,” you choked slightly. “Yeah, that’s me. How’d you know? Did Shuri send you a picture? Because if she did, that’s so unfair as I got nothing but your first name.”

Natasha huskily chuckled as she blinked.

“No,” she licked her lips. “Shuri’s exact words were, ‘look for an extremely hot piece of ass that also looks like someone killed her puppy.’”

You’re simultaneously blushing and wishing you could kill Shuri right now. You’re pretty sure she’s feeling so smug right now. 

The night goes on, and it occurs to you almost how out of the game you are. It was so easy once you fell into rhythm with Carol. Your type of flirting turned into banter with Carol. If you wanted sex, it was never a problem to drag Carol to the bedroom, or the couch, or just the floor. 

While chatting with Natasha was admittedly nice, there felt like an element of mind games to it. 

Like both of you were trying to feel exactly how the other wanted this night to end. 

You probably weren’t doing that good of a job. Your mind kept focusing in and out with thoughts about Carol, and when you caught yourself, you’re sure your face was showing signs of frustrations. 

“I’m just going to be upfront,” Natasha eventually said after you both had a couple drinks. “I'm interested in you. You’re smart, funny, and definitely easy on the eyes as Shuri described.”

You’re blushing again because you haven’t heard that from someone else in a long time. 

“But,” Natasha started again. “It’s clear your mind keeps wandering somewhere else. Shuri did warn me you had just gotten out of a long-term relationship and not looking to date, which is fine, as that’s not my priority either. But I need to know before the night continues on so I can have the proper expectations and have the correct behavior. Are you looking to come home with me tonight or not?”

You’re stunned by the bold behavior and a little panicked as you don’t have an answer. You thought you might have more time throughout the night to consider what you wanted to do. 

A part of you still felt like you were cheating on Carol if you went home with Natasha, but then you flared up at the thought.

There was no reason for you to need to feel like that. 

She dumped you.

If Carol somehow magically finds out you boned someone else two weeks after the breakup, then it was whatever! 

You sigh.

“Sorry,” you apologize to Natasha with a half-smile. “I’m...just a little out of the game. It’s pretty fresh, but you’re not so bad yourself.”

The joke gets Natasha quirking her lips at you. 

“You can take me home with you,” you tell Natasha, moving your hand across the bar and brushing your fingers lightly against her. 

The bedroom eyes are back.

The rest of the night falls easy, you let Natasha lead you through it. The drinks, the dancing, the grinding.

The next thing you know, you’re in her apartment building on the top floor, stumbling as she fumbles to get the two of you in.

You’re against the door, kissing messily.

It feels hot.

You like it. 

The feeling of someone else’s body on against yours.

You try to ignore the thoughts that you wish it were someone else, throwing yourself against Natasha, backing her until she hits her ridiculously large couch and falls back on it. You drop your purse on the floor as you climb over her.

She lets you take the lead as you fall atop of her, kissing her more aggressively, almost bruisingly.

Her hands are on your bare thighs as your dress as ridden up quite a bit. 

You moan softly against her lips, the sound stirring Natasha.

Before it can go any further, your phone starts ringing.

You break the kiss, almost laughing a bit as you grab your phone from your purse, your arm digging through the contents before you pull it out.

When you find it, you look at the screen briefly, not recognizing the number, and look at Natasha who nods for you to take it. Typically, you wouldn’t answer but if someone was calling you at this hour, it must be something.

“Hello?” You answer, breathlessly. Natasha’s still rubbing your thighs.

You hear someone asking to confirm who you are.

“Yes, this is she,” you answer, your attention going to Natasha who has a very dirty smirk on her lips. 

“This is The Allen Hospital. You were listed as Miss Carol Danver’s emergency contact. Would you please come down to the hospital?”

The words sober you instantly. You grab Natasha’s hands to stop them as you get off of her, stumblingly slightly as you did. You’re already grabbing your purse.

“Yes, I can. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

“Miss Danvers was in a motor vehicle accident...”

More things were said, but it feels like it’s just passing right over your head because you can’t get over that Carol is hurt. 

You hang up the phone.

“What’s wrong? Is everything okay?” Natasha asks. She’s standing next to you now, lipstick a little smudged.

“I have to go,” you say hurriedly as you put on your shoes. “Carol was in an accident. I’m sorry, I just--I have to go.”

You don’t say anything else, not even letting Natasha get a word in as you leave her apartment, aggressively hitting the elevator button.

You have to walk a few blocks before you see a cab and hail it.

Honestly, you don’t even remember the drive. Just the words that Carol has been in an accident over and over echoing in your head.

You pay the cab driver, not even bothering for change as you rush in through the door.

“Hi,” you say breathlessly to the front desk lady. “I’m here for Carol Danvers? I got a call earlier.”

The receptionist seems to know who you’re talking about right away and directs you to the emergency room. 

“She’s in surgery. Please wait here, and the doctor will be out when he’s finished.”

You literally want to start screaming because now you have to wait after they called and drop this bombshell on you?!

But you hold it in. 

You don’t know how long you wait. You’ve sat, paced back and forth, leaned against the wall, and prayed until the red light turns off.

You sigh as the doctor comes out.

“Is she okay?” You ask immediately.

The doctor smiles lightly at you.

“Yes, she’ll be fine,” the doctor reassures you first. You burst into tears of relief after hearing that, and the doctor put his hand on your shoulder to comfort you.

After that, he slowly explains what happened.

A drunk driver ran a red light and hit Carol as she was on her motorbike, crossing an intersection. 

She hit her head pretty hard, had multiple fractured bones, two broken ribs, and a broken arm.

But she’ll live.

She’ll make a full recovery.

They let you go in to see Carol once they set her up in bed.

She looks so bruised, but the way her chest lightly falls up and down brings you relief like no other.

You sit in the chair, your jacket over your lap as you sigh.

Why did Carol keep you as an emergency contact?

Did she forget?

Should you leave?

You decided you weren’t going to leave until Carol woke up and you could at least affirm with your own eyes that she was completely okay, no matter how dumb you looked.

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It was the small noise in the background that started to wake you up. You groggily opened your eyes to find another hospital blanket on you.

Confusedly, you sat up straighter, groaning lightly at the kinks in your neck from sleeping at such an awkward angle.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

You looked over to see Carol was awake, head wrapped up in bandages, smiling as she looked at you. She had her arm in a cast and in a sling while she used her other arm to eat her food. The TV was on. 

It seemed she was up for a while.

You got up immediately to her bedside to check on her. She looked pretty beat up, but she was pretty energetic.

“Are you feeling okay?”

Carol shrugged her shoulder. “Everything kind of hurts like a bitch, but the doctor says I’ll live, so I guess life is good.” 

You want to chuckle, but you’re exhausted from getting that call last night and now seeing Carol in front of you like she didn’t just rip your heart out and stomp on it was too much for you.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “I’m just going to check with the doctor once more before I go.”

You’re about to leave, but then Carol grabs you with her good hand.

“No,” Carol nearly whines. “You can’t just abandon your girlfriend here. If you’re going to leave, at least bring me some good food. This jello makes me want to vomit.”

The words froze you immediately, hand tensing in Carol’s.

“What?”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Post-traumatic amnesia?” You repeat the doctor.

He nods, sympathetically to you.

“Yes, luckily, she was wearing her helmet, but she was knocked around quite a few times when the car hit her.”

“Is it permanent?” You ask. This was too much. Didn’t these things only happen in lousy soap dramas?

You went to find the doctor immediately, only stiffly smiling at Carol before you left.

Apparently, Carol was aware that she already had amnesia when the nurse helped her after she first woke up, and you were still sleeping.

Carol had only lost about a month and a half worth of memories. That hit you in the gut like nothing else.

Because if Carol only remembered up to a month and a half ago where she was clearly still in love with you, then your break up was more spontaneous on her end. 

The doctor tilted his head.

“I can’t guarantee. It’s different for everyone. Some remember the next day, some months from now, some never. I have some medication for her to try to help. I would recommend that you just continue on as normal, no sudden or big changes as it would stress her out. The normalized environment might jog her memory.”

That was not what you wanted to hear. 

This was morally wrong, it had to be. As much as she wanted to return to normal with Carol, wasn’t this lying?

You look through the small window of the door to see Carol still sitting there, eating her jello even though she said she hated it, watching TV. She turned over, noticing you looking at her and gave you a wide smile where her eyes disappeared.

You smiled lightly back.

But it was for Carol.

And you still loved her.

So whatever you had to do, you would do it for her.

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“This makes me feel like an old couple. I kind of like it.”

You rolled your eyes at Carol as you wheeled her out of the hospital. She was discharged after a couple days. Her legs were still pretty banged up, so she wouldn’t be walking for a while.

“I don’t know where you got the idea that I would wheel you around in our old age.

Carol let out a burst of laughter, “that’s ice-cold, baby.”

You swallowed hearing Carol call you that. The entire thing was still rubbing you the wrong way, even though you were secretly so happy. 

The last couple of days, you had to run back and forth from the hospital and home, rummaging through your garbage bags of the things you were trying to throw away that were Carol’s, putting all the pictures, clothing, and trinkets back. 

You told Carol that she should stay at your place while she was recovering and she agreed easily. 

You hailed a cab who helped Carol get in along with her wheelchair.

You took a deep breath before you got in.

You could do this.

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“You’re fucking kidding, right?”

You sighed as you shook your head. 

“No, she really doesn’t remember.”

Shuri had her tongue at the side, jabbing the inside of her cheek, wide-eyed and blinking as you told her what happened.

“So you’re just pretending that this break-up never happened?”

“You make it sound like I’m a crazy ex. The doctor said to just bring her back to her normal environment. No sudden or big changes.”

“Well, not to be that bitch, but her dumping you out of nowhere maybe mean she doesn’t care as much. Maybe it won’t be a big sudden or change for her.”

You glare a little at Shuri who merely holds up hands up in surrender before sighing again.

“I don’t know. She still loves me at this point, and I don’t want to risk doing anything that might hurt her.”

“And you’re just fine with having to kiss, hug, cuddle, talk, and touch her while pretending it’s not killing you inside?” Shuri cocked a brow.

You shrugged.

Shuri shook her head with a slight roll of her eyes.

“You are a masochist,” she huffed under her breath. 

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It’s getting harder, but you don’t dare admit that.

Every kiss, every cocky grin, soft-touch was killing you.

Talking as if nothing happened, like she didn’t just dump you like a sack of potatoes was killing you.

But even though it was killing you, you didn’t want to give it up. 

Because in this moment, Carol still loved you.

And all you want is Carol’s love.

“What are you thinking about?” Carol asked as you were lying carefully next to her in bed, face nuzzled into her while Carol had her good arm wrapped around you.

You mumbled something into her side, eyes closed.

“Hmm?” Carol hummed as she didn’t catch it, laughing a little. “Baby, I can’t hear you at all.”

You shifted your face as you opened your eyes with a little pout. “I said, I’m thinking about how you talk too much. Have you considered trying to sleep?”

Carol started laughing, using her arm that was around you to jab at your sides while you laughed and wiggled around.

“You’re such a little shit,” Carol eventually stopped tickling you, letting the laughter die down again, the calm washing over the two of you. She looks over to you, a crooked grin on her lips.

“I love you,” she says quietly.

The words hurt you in a different way, and it’s unfair, you think.

You swallow.

“I love you too.”

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There’s something off.

Carol can’t put her finger on it, but you’ve been acting strangely for the last two weeks. 

She’s got amnesia, she’s not stupid. Something must’ve happened within the month and a half, but she just can’t figure out what though.

It kind of seemed like you were savoring every moment with her, trying to slowly drag out every moment. At first, Carol thought it was because she was in a serious accident and that must’ve freaked you out, and you were just so thankful she was alive.

But then it was like every time she gave you any affection, you were holding back. 

You always reciprocated, but still, it didn’t feel the same to Carol.

She was starting to wonder if you had fallen out of love with her a month and a half ago and just staying here because it was helping Carol recover.

She prayed that wasn’t the case because you were the love of her life.

And Carol doesn’t know how she’d go on without you.

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Tonight was movie night, but instead of staying in, Carol had wanted to go to the movie theatre. 

Since she had to take time off of work due to her injuries, she wanted to make the most of it. 

The movie was awful but granted, they went to see a horror movie, and horror movies usually had awful plots. 

Still, you had jumped into Carol’s side multiple times, which had Carol grinning. 

Maybe Carol was thinking about it too much, and you were just being weird due to the accident.

It was a beautiful evening out so the two of you had decided to walk back to your place, chatting about the horror movie and what both of you believe would’ve made the movie better.

You where wheeling Carol from behind, chatting happily when you crossed paths with someone unexpectedly.

“Natasha,” you breathed. 

The redhead seemed to be on her way to the theatre and surprised to see you as well. The two of you were so caught up in that one night, you never exchanged any contact information.

Granted, it was possible Shuri would’ve kept her friend in the loop of what happened if Natasha cared enough to ask.

Natasha greeted you quietly, a mumble really before she looked down to see Carol, a slight rise in her brow.

Carol returned the look.

Natasha looked back at you, smiling slightly. 

The three of you stood there in silence. You weren’t sure about what to do as Carol didn’t know about Natasha and would definitely care about her now since she doesn’t remember breaking up. 

Natasha seemed to catch the tension in you and let you off.

“We should catch up another time,” Natasha tells you, ignoring the look on Carol’s face completely. “You know where to find me.”

With that, Natasha walked off, leaving the two of you behind.

“Who was that?” Carol asked sourly.

You went back to wheeling Carol, sighing quietly so the blonde couldn’t hear it.

“A friend,” you mumbled.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Now, it was really bothering Carol.

Ever since you guys bumped into that redhead, Carol couldn’t stop thinking about it. 

It’s not like she suspected you cheating on her or anything, but there was a pit in her stomach that told her something important really did happen in the month and a half she forgot.

You were currently at work, so it gave Carol time to be by herself. 

Her phone started ringing. Carol looked down to see it was her coworker calling her.

“Sup, Maria,” Carol greeted.

“Hey, I’m just finishing my break, but I thought I’d call to check on you. Heard you were in an accident. You doing alright?”

Carol hummed, “Yeah, luckily, I have my girlfriend to take care of me.”

“Girlfriend? You’re dating again already?”

Carol reared her head back slightly and furrowed her brows.

“What do you mean?”

“You know, you broke up with your girlfriend like almost two months ago, and you were such a whiny, devastated baby, I didn’t think you were going to date anyone else anytime soon. Ah, shit--I got to go. I’ll call you again later.”

Maria hung up the call, but Carol was left with more questions than ever.

She broke up with you?

Carol couldn’t fathom why she would ever break up with you. You were everything to her. 

But if she broke up with you...why were you back here...pretending like it never happened?

Was it for her?

Carol bit the tip of her thumb lightly.

She lowered her hand and closed her eyes, willing anything to return to her. It was sudden when she could hear the voices and see the images.

“You could never give her the life that she wants, you know that.” 

“You’re always gone, and life is unpredictable for you. Do you ever see yourself settling down? Finding a different job to give her something stable?”

“You do good work, Danvers. You’ve sacrificed a lot to get where you are, can you sacrifice her too to go further?”

Carol immediately lifted the palm of her hand to her eye, a massive headache forming as she scrunched her closed eyes tightly and hissed in pain.

Fuck, Carol thought. She wished she could’ve lived in this play pretend forever.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“I’m home!” You locked the front door behind you, sighing in relief. It was such a long day, and you ended up having to stay late at the office for your project. 

“Did you eat yet?” You called out to Carol, walking through the hall. Maybe the two of you could just order in. You were way too tired to cook, and you weren’t going to try to make Carol cook with her one arm. 

There was no answer.

“Carol?” You called out once more, but when you reached the end and turned the corner, Carol was there in her wheelchair, but with her bag packed.

“Carol,” you breathed out, looking at the scene before you. Carol was sitting there with her jaw clenched. 

And you knew.

“You remembered,” you said to no one in particular, but Carol nodded.“You lied to me,” Carol said, but there was no anger in her voice.

“I took you back to where you were a month and a half ago,” you reasoned.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Carol argued back, and you scoffed.

“And what? Ignore the doctor’s orders? Break the news to you that you dumped me with no explanation and broke my heart? Yeah, that would play over well with you.”

Carol clenched her jaw again as you were right. As confused as she was, she would’ve never believed that she broke up with you. 

Still.

“Why did you do it?” Carol asked.

“What?” You responded confusedly, crossing your arms over yourself with furrowed brows.

“Why did you do this? Why did you help me, play along like nothing was wrong?”

“Well, why did you break up with me?”

Carol shut her mouth.

“I’m not going through this with you again,” she shook her head, and you exploded.

You deserved an answer.

White-hot anger overcoming you as you looked back at Carol. Tears were burning in the back of your eyes as they began to water.

“We never went through it in the first place!” You yelled at her. “Fuck you, Carol! You’re a fucking selfish asshole! I did this because I wanted to help you. Do you think it was easy? Pretending like you didn’t smash a heart into a million pieces, that I’m somehow not worth any explanation? Every time you touched me, kissed me, hugged me, or told me you loved me...do you know how hard that was?”

“Then why did you do? You didn’t have to! You could’ve told me the truth, and as hard as it would’ve been for me, I would’ve found out it was true!” Carol yelled back. 

“Because I still love you!” You shouted.

It was quiet with Carol having nothing to say. Tears were overflowing down your cheeks at you quietly choked on a sob. You placed your palms over your eyes, your lips were trembling as you angrily wiped at your tears with shaky hands. 

“Even though I knew we would have to go through this if you regained your memory, I still wanted this. Even if it was just temporary, I wanted you to love me again.” You whispered.

It was heartbreaking, like someone was taking a sledgehammer to you. 

You desperately just wanted to ask Carol why doesn’t she love you anymore?

“This was breaking you,” Carol quietly said.

Your shoulders slumped with a shake of your head, a small, hallow laughter leaving you.

“You know what the worst part is?” You asked, not expecting her to answer. “I don’t even care that you’re breaking me. I am an absolute fucking moron because I’m always going to love you.”

Carol called your name, but you shook it off, turning back around to leave your place.

The air was cold and bit at the apples of your cheeks as you walked quickly outside. The further you could get away, the better. 

You knew that Carol would be gone by the time you came back.

Crying more freely, you wiped at your tears.

You thought it might’ve been easier the second time she broke up with you, but it hurt just as much as the first time.

If anything, it was worse since you still had no answers to why it was over.

Even though you were always going to love Carol, maybe you would just have to learn how to live with the answer, ‘it just is.’

[nanahara-shuya]

I took the personality test Yukie posted and got this!

Entertainer     ESFP-A         Explorer People Mastery Extraverted  - 88 % Observant - 68 % Feeling - 69 % Prospecting - 79 % Assertive  - 74 %

If anyone is to be found spontaneously breaking into song and dance, it is the Entertainer personality type. Entertainers get caught up in the excitement of the moment, and want everyone else to feel that way, too. No other personality type is as generous with their time and energy as Entertainers when it comes to encouraging others, and no other personality type does it with such irresistible style. 

We Are All of Us Stars...

Entertainers love the spotlight, and all the world’s a stage. Many famous people with the Entertainer personality type are indeed actors, but they love putting on a show for their friends too, chatting with a unique and earthy wit, soaking up attention and making every outing feel a bit like a party. Utterly social, Entertainers enjoy the simplest things, and there’s no greater joy for them than just having fun with a good group of friends.

It’s not just talk either – Entertainers have the strongest aesthetic sense of any personality type. From grooming and outfits to a well-appointed home, Entertainer personalities have an eye for fashion. Knowing what’s attractive the moment they see it, Entertainers aren’t afraid to change their surroundings to reflect their personal style. Entertainers are naturally curious, exploring new designs and styles with ease.

Though it may not always seem like it, Entertainers know that it’s not all about them – they are observant, and very sensitive to others’ emotions. People with this personality type are often the first to help someone talk out a challenging problem, happily providing emotional support and practical advice. However, if the problem is about them, Entertainers are more likely to avoid a conflict altogether than to address it head-on. Entertainers usually love a little drama and passion, but not so much when they are the focus of the criticisms it can bring.

...And We Deserve to Twinkle

The biggest challenge Entertainers face is that they are often so focused on immediate pleasures that they neglect the duties and responsibilities that make those luxuries possible. Complex analysis, repetitive tasks, and matching statistics to real consequences are not easy activities for Entertainers. They’d rather rely on luck or opportunity, or simply ask for help from their extensive circle of friends. It is important for Entertainers to challenge themselves to keep track of long-term things like their retirement plans or sugar intake – there won’t always be someone else around who can help to keep an eye on these things.

Entertainers recognize value and quality, which on its own is a fine trait. In combination with their tendency to be poor planners though, this can cause them to live beyond their means, and credit cards are especially dangerous. More focused on leaping at opportunities than in planning out long-term goals, Entertainers may find that their inattentiveness has made some activities unaffordable.

Entertainers are welcome wherever there’s a need for laughter, playfulness, and a volunteer to try something new and fun – and there’s no greater joy for Entertainer personalities than to bring everyone else along for the ride. Entertainers can chat for hours, sometimes about anything but the topic they meant to talk about, and share their loved ones’ emotions through good times and bad. If they can just remember to keep their ducks in a row, they’ll always be ready to dive into all the new and exciting things the world has to offer, friends in tow.

   Strengths & Weaknesses

Entertainer Strengths

Bold – Entertainers aren’t known for holding back. Wanting to experience everything there is to experience, people with the Entertainer personality type don’t mind stepping out of their comfort zones when no one else is willing.

Original – Traditions and expectations are secondary to Entertainers, if a consideration at all. Entertainer personalities love to experiment with new styles, and constantly find new ways to stick out in the crowd.

Aesthetics and Showmanship – Not stopping at mere outfits, Entertainers inject artistic creativity into their words and actions, too. Every day is a performance, and Entertainers love to put on a show.

Practical – To Entertainers, the world is meant to be felt and experienced. Truth is stranger than fiction, and Entertainers prefer to see and do than to wax philosophical about “what-ifs”.

Observant – With all this focus on the here and now, on doing and acting, it makes sense that Entertainers are naturals when it comes to noticing real, tangible things and changes.

Excellent People Skills – More so than things though, Entertainers love to pay attention to people. They are talkative, witty, and almost never run out of things to discuss. For people with this personality type, happiness and satisfaction stem from the time they spend with the people they enjoy being with.

Entertainer Weaknesses

Sensitive – Entertainers (especially Turbulent ones) are strongly emotional, and very vulnerable to criticism – they can feel like they’ve been backed into a corner, sometimes reacting badly. This is probably Entertainers’ greatest weakness, because it makes it so hard to address any other weaknesses brought to light.

Conflict-Averse – Entertainers sometimes ignore and avoid conflict entirely. They tend to say and do what’s needed to get out of such situations, then move on to something more fun.

Easily Bored – Without constant excitement, Entertainers find ways to create it themselves. Risky behavior, self-indulgence, and the pleasures of the moment over long-term plans are all things Entertainers get into a little too often.

Poor Long-Term Planners – In fact, Entertainer personalities rarely make detailed plans for the future. To them, things come as they come, and they rarely bother with taking the time to lay out steps and consequences, with the belief that they could change at any moment – even with things that can be planned.

Unfocused – Anything that requires long-term dedication and focus is a particular challenge for Entertainers. In academics, dense, unchanging subjects like Classic Literature are much more difficult than more dynamic, relatable subjects like psychology. The trick for Entertainers is to find day-to-day joy in broader goals, and to tough it out with those tedious things that must be done.

Romantic Relationships

Entertainers are social, fun-loving, free-spirited people who live life in the moment and squeeze every little bit of excitement from everything. Naturally, they don’t spare any of this freshness and energy when dating. For people with the Entertainer personality type, relationships aren’t about slowly building foundations for the future, or planning out a life – they are bubbling, unpredictable things to be enjoyed for as long as there’s enjoyment to be had.

Here Today, Gone Tomorrow

Of course, when that enjoyment does burn out, it’s gone. Entertainers reevaluate their situations and commitments constantly, regardless of professions of love and dedication today. If a week later they just don’t feel the same, that’s it, and Entertainer personalities have no problem seriously considering breaking things off. While Entertainers can be willing to work on their relationships rather than swap them out, it takes a great deal of maturity and experience for them to realize that it can be worth the bother.

While they do last though, relationships with Entertainers are simply unforgettable. People with this personality type always have some new and exciting activity up their sleeves, and they genuinely enjoy spending each moment with their partners. Entertainers enjoy physical intimacy immensely, and they prove themselves affectionate, inquisitive, and open-minded lovers who love to share pleasure with willing and reciprocative partners.

Conversation with Entertainers is similar, focusing on fun, sometimes quirky subjects rather than deep, soul-searching expressions. The past and the future, the sciences and politics, and long-term plans and commitments are all routinely ignored by Entertainer personalities. They slow things down and add too much weight to Entertainers’ freewheeling style.

Entertainers happily chat about just about anything or anyone that comes to mind, but won’t have a topic forced.

Highly emotional people, and sensitive, Entertainers respond poorly to outside “suggestions” on how to manage their love lives. They respond even worse if criticisms come from their partners, and trying to take emotions out of the picture by telling Entertainers to “not take this personally” isn’t helpful either. Handling these situations better is a definite area for improvement for Entertainers, as there are entire dating strategies (pretty distasteful, manipulative ones) that revolve around exploiting this very trait.

On the other hand, the issue can be a lack of criticism at all. Entertainers value social input a lot, and are almost as affected by their friends’ opinions of their dating partners as their own. Since Entertainers are attracted to people who share their attitudes, whether dating partners or friends, this can leave them in an echo chamber that only tells them what they want to hear, reinforcing immature behaviors.

Just Trying to Find Somebody to Love

All of these tendencies can really come back to haunt people with the Entertainer personality type later on. Entertainers’ tendency to avoid promises and commitments and jump from partner to partner sabotages necessary long-term goals like retirement planning. Building real relationships takes time and conscious effort.

Luckily, Entertainers are incredibly likeable people who enjoy life’s small pleasures, and hardly want for diversity in their partners. Enthusiastic and affectionate, with a pure and down-to-earth love that just takes things at face value, Entertainers are fortunate that they take the time to find someone they truly enjoy being with every day, rather than settling too soon for stability over happiness, only to lose both.