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thinkinem · 4 years ago

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cf headcanons that have been kicking around my brain for forever

I haven’t contributed to fandom since I was like 12, but I love these characters too much and I thought it’d be fun to actually jot down the little stories I tell myself in the tags.

and like, drop a line if you want to hear more about something or w a “prompt”

Casey and Severide used to be a Thing.

it was a long time ago and never super serious, but after tough calls as candidates they’d meet up for drinks and then just kinda not let each other go until the morning

it also made sense bc Andy and Heather were together pretty much since the first day of the academy and then all their other mutual friends found themselves significant others. So Casey and Sev ended up being the “perpetually single” friends at all the gatherings and it always made the grin and bear it at those things easier when you knew you weren’t really alone

Andy knew pretty much from the get but never said anything

eventually Kelly met Rene and Matt met Hallie and their Thing ended if you can end a Thing that never really existed past beers in a crowded bar and slow mornings with the bedroom door locked and jammed shut

(they picked it up again exactly twice: when Rene walked away and when Matt and Hallie broke it off for the third--but not last--time)

and even though it was never any thing More, it’s twelve years later and Matt can make Kelly’s morning coffee better than anyone else in the house and Kelly knows exactly how far Matt can get pushed before he has to loop an arm around his chest and pull him away before Matt risks a conduct unbecoming

Losing Andy was tough. Ten years later and Kelly still feels a tug of guilt for how he treated Matt those long months afterward. Except, a small, ugly part deep down inside him has never let him really apologize to Matt (because Andy was his best friend, dammit) so now he just overcompensates by being the occasional mother hen and the older brother that Matt had in Andy and deserves in Severide

Kelly lets it slip to Stella that he and Casey used to have...Something. She’s remarkably unsurprised and that makes Kelly a little indignant because “hey! I’m a catch and in case you haven’t noticed, Case has zero game!” which of course got him “Kelly, you know his locker combo by heart, you don’t even know mine”

Matt’s dyslexic.

not officially actually, there was a note in his school file starting in 2nd grade that it would probably be a good idea to get him tested but “there’s no way in Sam Hell that any son of mine is gonna be called slow for the rest of his life. Matthew is fine, and if he’s behind the other children it’s because he isn’t working hard enough. His mother coddles him you know”

Sylvie thinks it would be fun for them to start cooking a new dish every week from around the world and Matt gets into the habit of memorizing the recipes the night before because the idea of struggling through reading aloud in front of Sylvie Brett makes his hands sweat

she’s picks up on it eventually because she is Sylvie Brett after all and immediately starts researching and by the end of the month Matt has tried four different “reading and writing strategies” which also makes his palms sweat but more in a holy shit this woman sees all of me and takes to google and not the door what did I do to possibly deserve this kind of way

(it takes zero time at all for Boden to notice the difference in the speed and spelling of Casey’s incident reports and if the guy wasn’t still turning in godawful chicken scratch he would have started accusing Kylie of running a boon)

Four weeks after Matt and Sylvie finally Get It Together, Matt buys a house

which is to say Matt’s name is on the deed and Sylvie gets to live out her wildest HGTV fantasies

they discover water damage in the attic and also that Matt has a serious thing for Sylvie in beat up jeans and one of his ancient academy hoodies (which means they also discover Sylvie’s skin is too sensitive to take even a quick roll on a $10 drop cloth but the store sells all natural organic ones for just 2 bucks extra and “Sylvie, babe, it’s definitely worth the investment, trust me”

The house is livable after 5 months of hard work and Matt never really asks Sylvie to move in it just becomes “when we get home” and not “I’ll meet you at the house” and a frankly inequitable split of closet space because “I like hanging stuff better so I can see all my choices thank you very much, Mr. Jeans-and-a-henley” (”I should’ve known you don’t like my clothes seeing how you’re always so eager to toss them on the floor”)

they spend the whole reno calling the third bedroom the office except neither of them even think about buying a desk and it’s a good thing too because 6 months after their first time hosting a party as homeowners Casey and Severide are three beers deep each assembling a crib each because “damn Case, you can never do things by halves huh?

Stella and Kelly get married on Molly’s back patio on a warm summer night in July four months after Stella found the ring in Kelly’s bedside drawer looking for a phone charger

Kelly nearly had a panic attack when she ran into the kitchen and thrust the ring box at his face with a triumphant smile because “Dammit, Stella, I had a speech and a nice bottle of champagnes and everything, --and stop laughing at me!”

Boden walks Stella down the aisle and Terrance is right there next to him when he gets back to his seat but he’s known with absolute certainty that it’s been years and years since he’d answer “just one” if a stranger were to ask how many children he raised

Casey buy’s Sev’s first beer at Molly’s every night for the first full year of his happy marriage to make good on a bet they made with Andy in the academy

Mouch doesn’t have official Godfather title to any of the Hermann kids. But he doesn’t really mind because it means he can come over and wind those monsters up and then leave without an ounce of guilt. (When Hermann falls through the floor of that house with Casey Mouch starts packing his freezer with kid pleasing frozen meals because the job is risky and it’s always better to be prepared than not).

Mouch and Sylvie write a sequel to Sheets On Fire and it goes viral in the erotic fire-fiction community.

(Once, at family dinner, Severide looks Sylvie dead in the eyes and quotes the opening line of Chapter 6. Sylvie chokes on her rosé because maybe Severide (the bastard) really was interested in having a legitimate discussion about hose coiling techniques, but she just has to doubt it.)

#chicago fire #chicago fire fic #matt casey #kelly severide #sylvie brett #stella kidd #mouch #wallace boden #casey x severide #stellaride #brettsey #firehouse 51 #chicago fire headcanons #not me being nervous about posting this lol #really came out strong w the first one being Gay Rights (as I should thanks)#for real though these are just for fun and I claim no intense knowledge of cf canon if these directly contradict something

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asfaltics · 3 years ago

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attended to his letters; a course of reducing exercises

or did you hear commentaries [ ] over the radio? I don’t have the time to do it. You don’t have time to do it. 1 and that, of course, you don’t have time to was taught the game 2 increasing the feed for / my dope, but you don’t have time 3 You don’t have time to investigate them fully yourself? No 4 It was hard work? — Yes, sir. You have to be fast and do the best you can. You don’t have time 5 for nearly everything; you don’t have time 6 You don’t have time to bother about your neighbors, and you don’t 7 enjoy our own com . pany , as we never have any chance to see friends around home, for you don’t have time after and before 8 And in some cases wastefully? — Not wastefully. Does not one involve the other? — I don’t see it in that light. A man applies for relief. You don’t have time to see that man. 9 you don’t have time to spend one hour in thinking every day to see your business in a bigger, better, and cleaner way than it is today. [ ] desk covered with papers, unfinished business, no time to see 10 the “ticket” for large swamps. You don’t have time 11 You see, when you’re on the news end of a thing like this you don’t have time to get worked up. 12 “Well,” she said, “I suppose you are so busy at the office you don’t have time. 13 you are so terribly busy that I suppose you don’t have time to feel lonesome. Why can’t girls do something like that, too? 14 “How did you like it down there?” he asked. “Well” — she paused thoughtfully — “down there you can keep busy. There’s something to do all the time; you can keep so occupied that you don’t have time to stop and think and feel.” 15 you don’t have time to think of danger” But one foggy morning not long after... 16 today. always say you don’t have time to read. ward, like a girl 17 By the time he had days. When you’re busy you don’t have time to attended to his letters. 18 a course of reducing exercises, you don’t have time to think of that. I don’t believe I’m abnormal, perhaps I am, but 19 Well, I use two formulas; saying you “don’t have time” is part of the world of citation. Saying you “have time” is part of the world of translation. I think that the questioning typical of translation has always been absent in the plastic arts. 20

sources ( “you don’t have time,” all but two pre-1923 )

1 ex reporters’ transcript, April 20, 1959, The People of the State of California, Plaintiff, vs. Louis Estrada Moya, et al., Defendent, being part of the Transcript of Record, Supreme Court of the United States, October Term, 1960, No. 186, Luis Estrada Moya, Petitioner, vs. California on write of certiori to the Supreme Court of the State of California (petition filed June 9, 1960; granted June 27, 1960) : 200 aside — Google misdated this 1832; 1960 was outside of my search range. A well-known case (I was too young at the time to know it). Some sources : ◾ “A mother-in-law’s murder for hire scheme results in death penalty for all three participants” at vcdistrictattorney, in which this : “What made the case unique? The hired killers testified against Mrs. Duncan without commitment [that] the District Attorney would not seek the death penalty in exchange for their testimony... In fact, all three received the death penalty and were executed. Of course, today’s appellate courts would likely reverse a case in which a defense attorney failed to seek sentencing concessions in exchange for testimony.” ◾ Arlene Martinez, “Love, scandal and murder: Ventura County case drew national attention,” VC Star (June 29, 2013) ◾ Alice de Sturler review of Jim Barrett his definitive Ma Duncan at Defrosting Cold Cases (October 17, 2020) ◾ Cecelia Rasmussen, “A Mother’s Love Was the Death of Her Daughter-in-Law,” Los Angeles Times (January 20, 2002; paywall) ◾ Joan Renner, “Dead Woman Walking: Elizabeth Ann ‘Ma’ Duncan,” parts 1-4 (2013) at Deranged LA Crimes (True 20th Century tales of murder, mayhem, political corruption, and celebrity scandal) and, finally, ◾ wikipedia 2 OCR cross-column misread, at Annie Eliot, “John Emerson Gaines’s Love Affairs,” The Manhattan 2:5 (November 1883) : 467-475 (468) snippet view only, opens to hathitrust. Annie Eliot Trumbull (1857–1949), author of novels, short stories, and plays; associated with Hartford, Connecticut’s “Golden Age”. wikipedia 3 OCR cross-column misread at H. E. Browing on “Pig Tails,” at The Swine World (Google titles it Poland China World) 5:2 (September 1917) : 11 4 ex Statement of William E. Johnson, chief special officer, United States Indian Affairs, before Committee on Indian Affairs, re: Senate Resolution No. 263 (Washington, 1910) : 367-400 (392) an intense exchange, on sale of alcohol on reservations. William E. “Pussyfoot” Johnson (1862-1945) was an energetic and resourceful prohibitionist and law enforcement officer. (wikipedia) 5 here, Julius Baum, examined by J. R. Lamar (January 29, 1896), in Contested Election Case of Thomas E. Watson Vs. J.C.C. Black, from the Tenth Congressional District of the State of Georgia, and published in/by the U.S. Congress, Committee on Elections (Washington, 1896) : 535 aside — an episode in the dismantling of Reconstruction institutions and Black suffrage. ◾ Thomas E(dward). Watson (1856-1922) (wikipedia). ◾ Watson is discussed in Jo Ann Whatley, her remarkable MA thesis Pike County Blacks : the spirit of populist revolt and White tolerance (1891-1896) as depicted in the Pike County Journal and other related sources (Atlanta University, 1984), available here ◾ Watson was succeeded by James C(onquest). C(ross). Black (1842-1928) (wikipedia). “Black was declared the winner of the election but Watson charged that the vote was fraudulent. Black agreed to resign his seat just after the opening of the 54th Congress so that a new election could be held. In the October 1895 special election, Black prevailed over Watson again, and thus took his seat back to fill the vacancy caused by his own resignation.” J.C. C. Black entry, at Biographical Directory of the United States Congress 6 ex Investigation of Hazing at U. S. Military Academy, being “Testimony taken by the Select Committee of the House of Representatives appointed to investigate and report on the alleged hazing and resulting death of Oscar L. Booz, late a cadet at the Military Academy, and upon the subject of the practice of hazing at the said academy.” (1901) : 776 7 another contested election, here Mrs. Louise Roller under cross-examination by Mr. Goldsmith, in Scholl, Charles L. Vs. Bell, Henry A. Jefferson Circuit Court (Louisville, Kentucky), Chancery Branch: First Division, Chas. L. Scholl, Plaintiff Vs. Henry A. Bell, Defendant. No. 41519. / Second Division, Arthur Peter, Plaintiff Vs. Chas. A. Wilson, Defendant, No. 41524. : “Contested election cases heard together,” Transcript of Record, Volume 8 (10 volumes in 9) : 39 (snippet only, but in full at hathitrust) 8 ex report from Washington Division (by Cert. 9730), 23:5 (May 1906) [number/month uncertain, could be June] : 712 (opens to hathitrust; found via google snippet view) 9 ex the “Poplar Inquiry,” here an examination of Mr. P. G. Miles, Relieving Officer, in Transcript of Shorthand Notes taken at the Public Inquiry held by J. S. Davy, C.B., Chief General Inspector of the Local Government Board, “into the general conditions of the Poplar Union, its pauperism, and the admnistration of the guardians and their officers.” Presented to both Houses of Parliament... (London, 1906) : 141 On the Poplar workhouse, see workhouses.org.uk (scroll down (near bottom) to “The Poplar Union Scandal and Inquiry”). ◾ Poplar is a district in East London (wikipedia) 10 ex E. Elmo Martin (Cleveland, Ohio), “How to hand the day’s work,” in National Lime Association Proceedings (Twentieth Annual Convention, Cleveland, Ohio; June 13-16, 1922) : 68-76 (73) (snippet view; full view at hathitrust) 11 ex H. Stimmons (Stark Co., Ohio), “More about coon hounds,” Hunter-trader-trapper 25:3 (December 1912) : 87-89 (88) (snippet view at Google, but full view at hathitrust, NW second paragraph) 12 ex Wayland Wells Williams (“author and artist,” 1888-1945), The Whirligig of Time (Frederick A. Stokes, 1916) : 335 Wayland Wells Williams papers at Yale YCAL MSS 551 13 ex T.I.M., “Dimpleton Stays at Home : A Story with a Real Moral,” in Life (July 25, 1907) : 155-158 (156) 14 snippet view only, at The Cactus (Austin, Texas; 1908) : 275 A journal “published by and for the students of the University of Texas”; 1907 and 1909 (but not 1908 alas) at hathitrust. 15 “down there” being Chicago, ex Henry Oyen (1883-1921), chapter 36 of “Big Flat,” in The Country Gentleman 84: (March 8, 1919) : 20, 22, 57-59 The novel was published in 1919, same passage at p 204 (NYPL copy) ◾ Haven't located much information about Oyen; his published work is listed at his Online Books page 16 Homer Randall. Army Boys in the French Trenches Or, Hand to Hand Fighting with the Enemy (New York: George Sully & Company, 1918) : 199 Six “Army Boys” titles were produced by the Stratemeyer Syndicate 1918-1920, all under the pseudonym Homer Randall : Army Boys in France, Army Boys in the French Trenches, Army Boys on the Firing Line, Army Boys in the Big Drive, Army Boys Marching into Germany, and Army Boys on German Soil (stratemeyer.org) ◾ The Stratemeyer Syndicate records (1832-1984; bulk 1905-1984) are at NYPL ◾ See also Stratemeyer pseudonyms and series books : an annotated checklist of Stratemeyer and Stratemeyer Syndicate publications / compiled and edited by Deidre Johnson (1982); Deidre Johnson, Edward Stratemeyer and the Stratemeyer Syndicate (Twayne Publishers, 1993); and wikipedia 17 OCR cross-column misread at Harriet Winton Davis, “With the Children : Don’s Knitting,” in The Congregationalist and Advance (August 29, 1918) : 241 Other (not this) issues at hathitrust 18 OCR cross-column misread (extended here), ex H. D. Morgan, Ph. C., “The Kid,” in the section Original and Selected : From the best writers, and the leading drug, medical, chemical and scientific publications of the world, in Practical Druggist and Pharmaceutical Review of Reviews (November 1908) : 529-534 19 Frank R. Adams (1883-1963), “The Heart Pirate,” (illustrations by Charles D. Mitchell), in The Cosmopolitan 72:3 (March 1922) : 43-48, 117-118 (44) — snippet view, but opens at hathitrust More — “... yell for a diet and start doing a course of reducing exercises, you don’t have time to think of that. I don’t believe I’m abnormal, perhaps I am, but just since this afternoon I have come to the conclusion that if you want to put down crime you’ve got to suppress more than just alcohol — you’ve got to suppress the modern flapper. They’re so damnably desirable...” (It gets worse...). See wikipedia; author’s papers at Oregon 20 ex Giuseppe Caccavale : in giardino, a buon fresco (content by Laura Cherubini, Giuseppe Caccavale, Chiara Bertola and Claudia Gian Ferrari; Charta, 2009) : 77

Needed another line, and thought Samuel Beckett might provide. Search yielded no Beckett, but the above passage, fitting in its way and no more nor less ambiguous than anything else here. something recent — Giuseppe Caccavale « Projet Paul Celan », Residence Concordia, Parigi gennaio-ottobre 2020; testo e foto dell’artista. (1 February 2021)

method

A friend reminded me, recently, that I don’t have time (for what is irrelevant here). Have been ruminating on (avoiding the consequences of) this, since. And thinking too about the place dimension of time, as discussed by Veronica O’Keane in her The Rag and Bone Shop : How we make memories and memories make us (2021) — “One’s sense of time is inseparable from events, but this is a sense of time. Might time have something to do with place cells?” (107) and “The whole concept of time is generally unhelpful in understanding science, be it physics or neuroscience... From the perspective of recording events, the present is consciousness. In a seemingly ironic twist, I myself think that the only place that time does not exist is in the moment of consciousness...” (113)

The encountered lines — all included above from my search in pre-1923 sources — have found their respective though non-chronological places in a kind of rocking, panning motion, in which sediments settle into their respective ripples / couplets.

Would, could, does this — sequence — work (whatever “work” means) without the anchorings / tetherings / bibliographic wastefull(ness; line 9 above) that follow it? They were needed in the making, anyway, and for there to be sufficient distraction for the making to sustain.

all subject to change.

#contested elections #couplet #time #swamps #waste #Poplar Inquiry #Giuseppe Caccavale #William E. Pussyfoot Johnson

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ears-awake-eyes-opened · 4 years ago

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Smashed

(Hayffie ❤️. Sensual angst and relationship building during the 72nd Hunger Games. Raw and vulnerable Effie is without a doubt the most gorgeous muse I’ve ever had. — Thank you for sharing the prompt. Writing this story brought up memories of a young man who died in his sleep in November 2019. I’d known him since he was 5 years old. Someone who has been drinking heavily, which can mean as few as 5 drinks, give or take, on an empty stomach, may need help. Watch for signs of alcohol poisoning, and don’t let them fall asleep unattended. The young man I knew had little experience with alcohol. If someone had been caring for him similarly to how Haymitch takes care of Effie in this fic, then he would likely still be alive. I think about him often.)

***

Haymitch startled awake and clutched his knife. His ears rang with an echo of shattered glass followed by humming. The sounds were muffled but too loud to be the residue of a dream. Dawn hadn’t yet broken, and it took a moment in darkness to remember whose bed he was in. ...The Capitol’s. The penthouse. The same room he’d slept in for 22 Julys but would never stoop to call his own.

This was supposed to be his day to sleep in if he could. The tributes from 11 and 12 had been killed during the bloodbath at the Cornucopia the day before, and he’d spent the afternoon with Chaff. Everything between then and now was a bit hazy. There’d been Vodka shots, and then a *pick-up* game in the betting lounge to see which of them would be the first to be propositioned for sex.

Not ten minutes in, Haymitch was approached by a woman with pale blue hair flowing down her back, a jeweled collar around her throat, and breast implants the size of cantaloupes. “Hey, victor. Wanna get out of here?”

“Not tonight, sweetheart,” he muttered low enough for Chaff not to hear. This was his buddy’s game, not his. The last thing he wanted in the middle of the Games was to be a piece of meat for some Capitol bitch.

A waif like creature with tattooed olive skin and an unusually large ass for her tiny frame sidled up to Chaff soon afterward. ‘I win,’ he mouthed as he walked out the door with his hand already sliding into the back waistband of her pants.

Glass shattered again, shaking Haymitch from his fog covered memories. What the hell?! As the humming grew louder, he dragged himself out of bed and followed the sound into the living room.

Effie sat on the sofa wearing yesterday’s clothes. Her ankles were crossed on top of the coffee table. “I’ll have another, dear!” She called to a red-clad Avox. He stepped out from the shadows and handed her an oversized champagne flute. She dropped her feet to the floor and promptly filled the new stemware from a large, nearly empty pitcher of orange liquid. Her flute overflowed. The liquid pooled on the table, then dripped over the edge to the purple rug. The Avox stood by with a handtowel draped over his arm, but she didn’t call for one so he remained inconspicuous.

“You know...” Effie spoke to the pink wig she’d taken off at some point and set beside her on the couch, “I’ve always thought that rug needed more color. Orange goes with purple like wildflowers on a mountainside.”

She tucked a lock of blonde hair behind her ear, bent forward at the waist, put her mouth to the rim of the glass, and sipped the drink with a loud slurp until it was emptied enough to not spill further. As she raised her head, she caught sight of Haymitch.

All traces of the lipstick she’d worn the day before were gone. Her lips glistened with whatever she was drinking. A thought flashed through his mind of what it would be like to kiss her. He’d wondered before. As she licked her lips, looking at him like she was, he had a hard time thinking about anything else.

Neither of them glanced away nor said a word as he watched her swallow the rest of her drink. The spell broke when she smashed the flute to the floor and started humming again. The tune this time was unmistakable. It was the same melody that played in the arena when images of dead tributes were projected into a darkened sky.

“Effie, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m having brunch!”

“Brunch? It’s 5am.”

“Mimosas make any meal brunch!”

“I don’t see a meal here, sweetheart. Have you eaten since yesterday?”

“Yesterday we had dinner with the children. You remember. They picked at the food, but they had the decency to use silverware.”

“That wasn’t yesterday. That was the day before. Have you eaten anything since then?”

“I never eat on the first day of the Games. Nothing settles well...”

He’d been too wrapped up in his own miserable sense of responsibility and tension on Day 1 to notice her eating habits or lack thereof.

“...But these mimosas certainly are delicious.” She snapped her fingers and the Avox stepped into the light again. Effie held up the empty pitcher. The Avox took it as soon as he was clear that she didn’t intend to throw it on the floor. “Bring us another round and two more glasses.”

“Hold up,” Haymitch said to the Avox. “Bring a pitcher of water and a plastic cup. Make sure the pitcher is plastic too. And bring some crackers. ...And an empty bucket, thanks.”

“And crepes! With strawberries and cream cheese, chopped candied pecans and a drizzle of maple syrup... and mimosas!” Effie added.

The Avox looked to Haymitch who quietly shook his head. “Let’s start with crackers and work up to the rest. I think you’ve had enough alcohol this morning.”

“Amitch Habernathy! Who are you to tell me what I can and cannot have!”

“Sweetheart, I’m just trying to help.” He went the long way around the rug to avoid stepping on shards of broken glass, and he sat beside her on the sofa.

Through worn layers of makeup, he couldn’t tell if her cheeks were pale or blazing. He raised his hand slowly to her forehead. She held her breath as he touched her. Her skin was clammy but held some warmth. “How many drinks have you had?”

The back of his hand still grazed her forehead as the answer barely escaped her throat, “I lost count.”

He assessed the pile of broken glass on the floor and believed it was enough to be concerned about her. Her body was slight under all those layers of clothes she wore. He’d stared at her enough to know it. Besides, she hadn’t eaten in a day and a half.

As he dropped his hand from her forehead, she caressed along his cheek, his jaw, his neck, then down the front of his rumpled T-shirt. “You’re so pretty,” she said.

She’d never touched him so personally. It almost scared the shit out of him because she felt so good. “I ain’t so pretty. You’re just drunk,” he reminded himself.

“I ain’t so drunk...”

Effie Trinket saying “ain’t” was drunk for sure, but he knew it would be pointless to argue with her.

The Avox brought Haymitch’s requested items in a bucket. They nodded to each other: Haymitch in appreciation, and the Avox in relief that Effie was no longer breaking champagne flutes.

“You’re pretty too,” she said to the Avox. All six of your eyes are pretty. But not quite as pretty as this guy.” Her palm still lingered on Haymitch’s chest, and she whispered to the Avox, “Have you seen him naked? Holy Mary Mother of God, he’s so fine!”

Haymitch wondered if and when Effie had actually seen him naked. He blacked out too often to know. “I don’t think any mothers of gods want to see me without any clothes. Let’s leave them out of this.” Making light of her comment was safer than picturing himself naked with Effie.

The Avox poured water into the plastic cup and left the crackers in the bag instead of laying them out on fine china. Haymitch waved him off with gratitude then handed her the cup of water. “Drink this slowly. It’ll help you sober up, and when you wake up later you’ll feel like a small train hit you instead of a big one.”

“I don’t want to be sober!” What she wanted was to forget all the death she’d witnessed that day, but she took the cup of water and drank anyway. Haymitch’s attentiveness was more intoxicating than the alcohol had been. “...Is this what it takes?”

“What? Water?”

“Me being drunk. Is this what it takes?...” For you to touch me, she didn’t say. She gripped his T-shirt.

“You’re not making sense, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me ‘sweetheart.’ It means you’re pissed off, or worse it means nothing. I’m more than nothing. I want to mean more than nothing!” She let go of his shirt and shoved him. “I don’t want to look at you.”

But her eyes were still on him. Like inlets of a wild sea, he could drown in them if he let himself. She’s even more insane drunk than sober. But he couldn’t look away from her regardless.

“I have to go.” Effie set the water cup down and stood up. The room started spinning, so she plopped back down. “...My shoes are broken. I can’t stand up because my shoes are broken!”

“Your shoes are fine, honey. Do you want to take them off?”

“I love these shoes. Can’t you understand? How can you be so blind not to see that I LOVE them?”

“Okay, they’re great shoes. Maybe they’ll work better if you have something to eat.” He reached into the bag and pulled out a couple of crackers, eating one and handing her the other. “Food will keep some of the alcohol that’s still in your stomach from getting into your bloodstream.”

As soon as Effie ate the cracker, her long-empty stomach craved more. She took the bag from Haymitch and popped a handful into her mouth.

“Go slowly,” he said, “Like with the water.”

“Stop interfering!”

“Fine!” He sat back on the couch and folded his arms behind his head. “Do whatever you want.”

As she chewed the crackers, she bent forward to unstrap her shoes. Using his foot, he slid the table forward so she wouldn’t bang her head on it. She didn’t seem to notice his ‘interference.’

With a bit of food in her stomach and the high heels off her feet, she stood up and managed to remain standing even as the room spun. Haymitch put a leg up on the table, barricading her from walking in the direction of smashed glass. With an unsteady gait, she took the long way around the room. He followed her with the bucket of crackers and water.

As she wobbled through the living room, she unzipped her dress. “Is it hot in here? Or is it just me?”

“It’s definitely you.”

By the time she got to the hallway, she’d slipped the sleeves down her arms, and the dress spilled onto the floor in a puddle of chiffon.

His jaw dropped as she stood there in a baby blue corset, matching panties, and lace trimmed thigh high stockings. “...Holy Mary Mother of God.”

“I thought you said we were leaving mothers of gods out of this.”

“You changed my mind.”

“Oh...” Her stomach lurched, and she felt its contents pushing up against her esophagus. Shit. Throwing up was one thing that annoyed Effie more than bad manners. She commanded her stomach to settle down, but the will of her body to get rid of those last few mimosas and that large handful of crackers was more powerful.

She rushed to her bathroom, and vomited in the toilet. She crouched there in stillness while her guts churned inside.

Haymitch knelt behind her. “I’m right here, honey.” He touched her head gently and gathered her hair up into his hands. He’d never touched it before. Each strand was light and soft like a feather. Why she’d want to cover up this delicacy with wigs, he had no idea.

She threw up several more times until her stomach was empty. By then she was crying. He stroked her hair, feeling dangerously close to the brink of something inescapable. “How about I get you some water and help you into bed, okay?”

She nodded almost imperceptibly, completely defeated. “Everything’s spinning.”

“Put your arms around my neck.”

She did what he requested. He picked her up off the floor and carried her to the edge of her bed. She was very drunk but not unaware of the sensation of his arms. Being there felt warm and safe and insanely good. When he let go, she didn’t like the absence. She cried some more, unable to contain the tears, emptying the contents of her heart as it had been with her stomach.

He poured her another cup of water and sat beside her, drawing small circles on her back while she sipped slowly. “The bucket’s here if you need to throw up again. I know you’re dizzy.”

She shivered. When those shudders turned to shakes, he knew it would be best to get her warm. “When you’re ready, let’s get you under the covers.”

“My corset...” Her throat hurt to talk. “Will you help me loosen it so I can take it off?”

Haymitch had loosened a fair number of corsets in the past twenty years. He didn’t know why he was so affected by this raw and vulnerable version of Effie. His hands trembled untying the laces at her back. He stopped when the corset was loose enough for her to unhook in front. If she couldn’t manage the hooks, then it would be staying on, because if he took off her corset there was no way in hell he’d be able to stop there, not with the way he was feeling.

“What do you need? A shirt? The robe on the hook in the bathroom?”

“The robe is fine,” she whispered.

He stepped away to get it for her, and when he came back, the corset had slipped several inches. There was no avoiding a view of her breasts, and he was only willing to be honorable to a certain extent. He was going to look for as long as she, drunk or not, would let him look.

She was refreshingly different than the woman he’d met yesterday in passing. Effie’s lingerie and the other’s hair were similar shades of blue, and maybe that’s why he thought of the comparison just then. Effie’s breasts were small enough to fit fully in his hands. They were firm from the fastidious care she gave her body, and he vowed right then to never taunt her again about those efforts. Her nipples were pink and upturned. She must be nearly 30, but her breasts probably hadn’t dropped a centimeter from where they’d been at 18. His mouth watered just looking at her.

When he glanced up at her eyes, they were on his, watching him watch her. He didn’t know whether her lack of embarrassment came from pride in her body or her altered brain state. Maybe he’d find out another time, or maybe this would be the only time he’d ever see her breasts bare. Either way, this had to be enough for now because she was still shivering.

He sat behind her and helped her into the robe. She fumbled with the corset hooks until the garment fell away. She tied the robe closed then peeled off her stockings. Bending forward made her more dizzy, so she sipped more water and ate a cracker before sliding under the covers.

Haymitch propped pillows behind and in front of her to keep her lying on her side. Then he lay facing her. He stayed on top of the covers because to climb inside with her, especially now, would be as much folly as unhooking her corset would have been.

Her eyelids were heavy.

“I’m gonna be here if you need anything. I’m gonna wake you up several times the first hour, then maybe once each hour after that. I’m warning you, so hopefully you won’t be as pissed at me. I know you’re tired, honey, but you drank a lot on an empty stomach, and your body has to process it. Throwing some up helped, but the alcohol in your blood could still rise for a while as you sleep. I wanna make sure you’re okay.”

He thought of the thousands of times he’d subjected himself to the risk and certainty of alcohol poisoning. None of those times mattered to him because that was his life. But this was Effie, and for whatever reasons, her staying alive mattered a hell of a lot more to him than he would have expected.

As she dozed off, he listened to make sure her breathing was regular.

The first time he woke her, she hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep. She touched his face the same as before. “Sometimes I feel like my heart’s going to burst. You know?”

He really didn’t know what she meant by that, but he knew from personal experience that drunk people rarely make sense, even to themselves. He checked her pulse at her wrist. “You’re heart’s gonna be fine.”

When he withdrew his hand she said, “Don’t. Don’t let go.” She fell asleep again with him lightly holding her hand.

The second time he woke her, she teased, “I finally got you in my bed.”

“Finally?? I don’t remember you ever trying.”

“Trying appears differently to different people.”

The third time he woke her, she said, “I want to kiss you.”

“Another time,” he assured her, “When you’re gonna remember it.”

“I’ll remember it now.”

“I don’t think so, and I’m not willing to risk it. Someday when I kiss you, you’re for damn sure gonna remember it.”

The fourth time he woke her, she said, “You’re getting on that train tomorrow, and I hate it. Every time it takes you away from me, I hate it more.”

He was afraid of what she might say next. Soon she was going to forget this conversation, and that reality was a mixture of relief and agitation. Because he wasn’t going to forget.

The fifth time he woke her, she asked, “Why do you keep waking me up?” The bubble had burst.

The sixth time, she pulled her hand away. “Haymitch! Quit waking me up!”

The seventh time was an hour later. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

“Making sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.”

He lay in bed with her until noon, listening to her normal, even breathing and periodically checking the temperature of her skin with the back of his hand. He didn’t wake her again — because he didn’t want to hear her tell him to leave.

She woke up in the afternoon alone. Her head was throbbing, and the daylight hurt her eyes. She dragged herself out of bed, pulled herself together, and put on a pair of dark glasses.

The dress and corset she’d worn the day before were laying at the foot of the bed. Why didn’t I hang them up? She did so belatedly. I must have been exhausted last night. She’d worked the floor until early morning, making connections, trying to help escorts and mentors from other districts secure sponsors.

She passed through the living room and saw her wig on the couch and her shoes on the rug. Did I take those off here before bed? I can’t remember. I must have had too many drinks. That would explain the headache. She gathered them up and returned them to her room.

Haymitch was eating in the dining room. The Avoxes had laid out a full spread. “How are you feeling?” he asked her.

“Like I was hit by a train.”

“Are you hungry?”

“Yes. My stomach hurts, but yes.”

“Eat a bit then. It should help.”

She sat down, and looked awhile at Haymitch’s eyes. Almost remembering... something. She took off her dark glasses and looked again.

“I think I had a dream about you last night.”

“You’re dreaming about me, eh?”

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Still, something danced along the edges of her memory. It was almost... beautiful.

Haymitch smirked like he knew a secret. “What do you remember about the dream?” he asked.

“I licked my lips...” I wanted to kiss you. DID I kiss you? “...And you touched my forehead the way my mother used to when I was sick.” I wanted to touch you too... your face, your neck, your chest. DID I touch you?

“So, in your dream I was your mother?” He teased.

“No!”

“...Holy Mary Mother of God, no?” His grin was big enough now to show the gap between his teeth.

It was rare to see him gleeful. Effie loved it, but... “Wait. Those words were part of the dream somehow. Did I say them or did you?”

“Maybe we both did.”

She eyed him suspiciously. The dream had been sensual, erotic at times. I took off my clothes.. Or did you? You carried me to bed. Did we sleep together? Did we...

“You touched my hair.”

“It’s soft like feathers.”

“In the dream?”

“Sure. Why not.”

She recalled confessions of a bursting heart and wanting him...

Effie’s heart was racing now. She pushed her chair away from the table, stepped into the kitchen and started opening cabinets. To the Avoxes she questioned, “Where are all the champagne flutes?”

Of course they couldn’t answer. Confusion spread across her face. “Haymitch?...”

“You smashed ‘em up real good, honey. Like cannon fire.”

Honey? “In the dream?”

“Nope. On the living room floor.”

“What happened last night?”

“Last night I was asleep.”

“Then what happened this morning?”

Haymitch took his time before answering.

“I demand to know what happened between us this morning!”

“You were drunk. I took care of you.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s ALL?! You try taking care of somebody who’s drunk. It ain’t easy.”

She dropped back into her chair with chagrin. “I feel like I should thank you.”

“You already did.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah. You showed me your breasts.”

“What?” Effie’s face flushed pink all the way through her makeup.

“I figure we’re almost even now, since apparently you’ve already seen me naked.”

“What?! How do you know that?”

“You told my friend here early this morning.” He looked to the red-clad Avox for confirmation. “Right?” The man shrugged his shoulders, and quickly escaped to busy himself in the kitchen. “I recall your words were, ‘Have you seen him naked? Holy Mary Mother of God, he’s so fine.’”

Effie pressed her palms to her cheeks to try to temper the blood rushing there. “So THIS is what mortification feels like.”

“You’ve got nothin’ to be mortified about. You think I’m fine, and I think you’re just about the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen.” You make me want to do things to you that I’m terrified and thrilled to think about. “See? We’re even.”

“Did you sleep with me?”

“I watched you sleep to make sure you stayed alive.”

The way he said it, all of it, set something warm into motion. It buzzed along her spine and down her arms. The sensation throbbed in her fingers. She felt it pulling her to hold his hand, but other forces kept her frozen. Just reach across the table and hold his hand! Why is that so intimidating?

Full of uncertainty she asked, “What’s going to happen?”

“I’ll get on the train.”

“Haymitch... when you do, I’m going to hate it.”

“...I know.”

63 notes · View notes

salvatoraes-arc · 4 years ago

Text

· ¨ ┅ ✦ . dash games ; SHAKESPEARE AESTHETICS : STEFAN SALVATORE

ROMEO & JULIET:

suburban july. scraped knees. bruised knuckles. blood in your teeth. bare feet on hot concrete. restlessness. your high school’s empty parking lot. love poems in your diary. a window open to coax in the breeze. burning inside. an ill - fitting party dress. a t - shirt you cut up yourself. the time you tried to give yourself bangs. biking to your friends house. bubble gum. gas station ice. the feeling that you’ve met before. rebellion. a car radio playing down the street. cheap fireworks. a heart drawn on the inside of your wrist with a sharpie. switchblades. red solo cups. dancing in your bedroom. screaming yourself hoarse. running out of options. the forlorn looking basketball hoop at the end of a cul - de - sac. climbing onto your roof at night while your parents are asleep. flip - flops. a eulogy written on loose - leaf. the merciless noontime sun.

HAMLET:

speaking in a whisper. holding your breath. a browning garden. a half remembered story. furniture covered with sheets. fog at dawn, mist at twilight. losing touch. the ethereal space between winter and spring. the soft skin at your temple. the crack in the hallway mirror. things you’d say if you knew the words. uncombed hair. books with writing in the margins. books with cracked spines. books with lines scratched out. prayers on all souls’ day. a chipped ceramic bathtub. a cold stone floor. the uncomfortable awareness of your own heartbeat. the sparrow that got in your house. shadows. the creek you played in as a child. a dirty night gown. an oversized t - shirt. a collection of your favorite words. soil beneath your nails. ghost stories. the strangeness of your own name in your mouth. deep silence. exhaustion. a cliff with a long, long drop down.

TWELFTH NIGHT:

wicker deck furniture. new england summer. large sunglasses and a blonde bob. a storm over the ocean. patio umbrellas. flapping in the wind. the smell of chlorine. muffled laughter. sarcasm. starched cuffs. day drinking. bay windows. the idea of love. love for the idea of love. love for love’s sake. hangovers. wandering over the sand dunes. a vagabond with a guitar. fishermen with tattoos. a pretty boy with a slacked tie. a lighthouse. growing too close. boat shoes. feeling yourself change. big, floppy sunhats. double - speak. a song you keep listening to. turning red under their gaze. margaritas drank on an inflatable pool lounger. string lights on a balmy night. sleepy june days. fights you’re unprepared for. hope you weren’t expecting. pranks that go too far. bad poetry. pining. becoming less of a stranger.

MACBETH:

the space where your grief used to be. a bird that’s lost an eye. old blood stains. heavy blinds. the smell of sweat. the stillness after a battle. a fake smile. a curse. the taste of metal at the back of your tongue. your house, unfamiliar in the dark. a dusty crib. the smell of sulfur. an orange pill bottle. streaks in the sink. a black cocktail dress. your hand on the doorknob, shaking. a chilly breeze. crunching from the gravel driveway on a moonless night. clenched hands. a rusty swing set. a flashing digital clock stuck on 12 : 00. a snake that crosses your path. an owl that watches you. a dog that runs when you approach. red smoke, dark clouds. cool steel. tile floors. footsteps in the hallway late at night. a baggy suit that used to fit before. visions. insomnia headaches. nursery rhymes. being too far in to go back now.

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING:

the high drama of small towns. a pickup truck. military supply duffel bags in the hall, hugs all around. tulip bulbs. a wraparound porch. a pitcher of iced tea. a rubber halloween mask. someone on your level. ill - timed proclamations. stomach clenching laughter. rushing in. not minding your business. crepe paper. white lies. secrets written down and thrown away. southern hospitality. homemade curtains in the kitchen. a sink full of roses. hiding in the bushes. old friends. the wedding dress your grandma wore, and her mama before her. a dog - eared rhyming dictionary. chamomile with honey. the intimacy of big parties. lawn flamingos. gossip. a crowded church. friendly rivalries. unfriendly rivalries. shit getting real. love at five hundredth sight. not realizing you’re home until you’re there.

KING LEAR:

cement block buildings. power lines that birds never perch on. the end of the world. useless words. rainless thunder, heat lighting, a too big sky. arthritic knuckles. broken glass. chalk cliffs. the pulsing red - black behind closed eyes. something you learned too late. wet mud that sucks up your shoes while you walk. a cold stare. empty picture frames. empty prayers. the obscenity of seeing your parents cry. a treeless landscape. bloody rags. grappling in the dark with reaching hands. the sharpness at the the tips of your teeth. the blown out windows of a skeletal house. decay. jokes that aren’t jokes. biting your tongue. prophecies. aching muscles, tired feet. stinging rain. invoking the gods. wondering if the gods are listening. worrying that the gods are dead. white noise. shivers. numbness. the unequivocal feeling of ending.

A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM:

the smell of wet soil and dead leaves. listening to music on headphones with your eyes closed. wildflowers. the distant sparkle of lightning bugs. a pill someone slipped you. fear that turns into excitement. excitement that turns to frenzy. mossy tree trunks. a pair of yellow eyes in the darkness. night swimming. moonlight through the leaves. a bass beat in your chest. a butterfly landing on your nose. a kiss from a stranger. a dark hallow in an old tree. glow in the dark paint. drinking on an empty stomach. a twig breaking behind you. spinning until you’re dizzy. finding glitter on your body and not remembering where it came from. an overgrown path through the woods. cool dew on your skin. a dream that fades with waking. moths drawn to the light. giving yourself over, completely. afterglow. the long, loving, velvety night.

TAGGED BY: @plexiglassed bestie !!!! TAGGING: @forbaes , @brilliantcrafty , @neverafters , @cracksjokes , @elaynas , @shesdaylight , @rexbred, @glmrocks , @constylations , @adorablecas , @mieczlw , @zerocents , @coyoted & YOU !

#[ 𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙳﹕] my lungs are clouded with self hatred. ›› aesthetics.#[ 𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙳﹕] these are always fun. ›› dash games.#[ 𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙳﹕] it’s perfectly fine to watch tv all day. ›› queued.

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bluestar22x · 3 years ago

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Master Post

Lost looking for something on this blog? This post is for you!

Months listed next to each show/movie/etc. below are those in which they can be found and usually were reblogged a lot.

I don’t regularly reblog all the shows I watch. I usually do “catch-up” reblogs for many of my shows, so expect occasional mass reblogs (especially at the beginning of a new month).

This post is here to give you an idea of where to search for gifs and photos, etc. of a particular subject on my blog. I’m usually pretty good with tagging everything, but in some cases it may be easier to go through the posts by month instead of by the tags.

It’s also my personal guide to what to reblog in the future, so this post will be updated or reposted whenever I’ve had a lot of activity or it’s a new month.

xxx

Currently Covered Shows x 12 Monkeys – August 2015, April - July 2016, May - June 2017, June - Nov. 2018, April 2019, Oct. 2019

13 Reasons Why - April 2017

911 (Fox) - Dec. 2018, Nov. 2019 - Dec. 2019, March - Aug. 2020, Jan. - June 2021

911 Lone Star - Jan. - Aug. 2020, Dec. 2020, Jan. - June 2021

After Life (Netflix) - August 2020

Agents Of SHIELD – March 2016, April - May 2016, March - May 2018, May - August 2019, May 2020 - August 2020

Almost Human – January 2016, Feb. 2018

Arrow - February 2017, June 2017, August 2017, Nov. - Dec. 2017, Dec. 2018, May 2019, Dec. 2019, Jan. - Feb. 2020

Awake (2012) - Oct. 2018

Baby Daddy - October 2017

Beauty And The Beast (CW), BATB - April 2018

Being Human (US) - November 2016

Believe - August 2016

Bones (Fox Bones Show) - March 2016, Sept. 2016

Boy Meets World – March 2016, July 2016, Jan. 2017

Buffy The Vampire Slayer - Sept. 2016

Burn Notice - Sept. 2016, March 2020

Camp Cretaceous - October 2020, April 2021

Charmed – February 2016, June 2016, Aug. - Sept. 2017, Dec. 2017

Charmed (CW) - July 2019, Oct. 2019 - Dec. 2019

Chasing Life - March 2018

Chicago Fire – March 2016, Aug. 2016, Nov. 2016, March 2017, Aug. 2017, Oct. 2017, March 2018, Oct. - Dec. 2018, Jan. - May 2019, Sept. - Nov. 2019, Jan. - April 2020, Nov. - Dec. 2020, Jan. - May 2021

Chilling Adventures Of Sabrina - June 2019, Sept. 2020

Constantine – Dec. 2015, Feb. 2016

Daredevil (Netflix) - January 2018

Dark Angel - March 2017, Sept. 2018

Dark Matter - January 2018

DC Crossovers (CW Crossover) - Nov. - Dec. 2016, Feb. 2017, Nov. 2017, Dec. 2018, Dec. 2019, Jan. 2020

Dominion – August 2015, November 2015

Elementary - January 2018

Forever - July 2016

Fresh Prince Of Bel Air - August 2018

Frequency - Oct. 2016, Oct. 2017

Fringe - June 2016

Full House - August 2018

Galavant - September 2018

Game Of Thrones - Feb. 2018 (Some gifs in months before)

Ghost Whisperer - October 2018, November 2018

Gilligans Island - August 2018

Girl Meets World – March 2016, July 2016, Jan. 2017

Grimm (early seasons) - March 2018

Happy Days - August 2018

Hawaii Five 0 - Oct. 2017

Heartland – February - April 2016, June - July 2016, Sept. - Dec. 2016, Jan. - Dec. 2017, Jan. - Dec. 2018, Jan. 2019 - Dec. 2019, Jan. - Dec. 2020, Jan. - July 2021

Humans - August 2017

Impractical Jokers - April 2019, Feb. 2020

Into The Badlands – Nov. - Dec. 2015, Jan. 2017, March - June 2017, March - May 2018, April - May 2019

iZombie - Feb. 2018

Jane The Virgin - January 2018

Jericho - December 2018, August 2020

Killjoys - November 2018

Kyle XY - June 2016

Legends Of Tomorrow - February 2017, Aug. 2017, Nov. - Dec. 2017, Feb. 2018 - June 2018, Sept. 2018, Nov. - Dec. 2018, April - May 2019, Jan. 2020, March 2020, May 2020

Lethal Weapon - Sept. – Dec. 2016, Jan. - April 2017, June 2017, Sept. - Oct. 2017, Dec. 2017, Jan. 2018 - May 2018

Limitless - January 2018

Lost In Space - June 2018

Lucifer (Fox), Lucifer (Netflix) - December 2017, April - June 2018, April - May 2019, Sept. 2019, Dec. 2019, Jan. - Feb. 2020, April - May 2020, July - Dec. 2020, Jan. 2021, May - July 2021

Melissa & Joey - October 2017

Moonlight - November 2016, October 2018

Nashville - March - April 2017, September 2018

NCIS - September 2020

Nikita – Nov. 2015, Jan. 2016, Aug. 2016, Aug. 2017

Once Upon A Time – January 2016

One Tree Hill – March 2016, July 2016, Jan. 2017, April 2017, Aug. 2017

Person of Interest – March 2016, June 2016

Prehistoric Park - May 2017

Prison Break - Oct. 2017

Proof - August 2016

Psych - Sept. 2017

Resurrection - Oct. 2018

Sabrina The Teenage Witch - June 2017

Saved By The Bell - August 2018

Saving Hope - November 2018

Shadowhunters - Feb. 2018

Sherlock BBC - Feb. 2018

Shooter - August 2017

Sleepy Hollow (4 Horsemen & Ichabod) - August 2016, August 2020

Smallville - Feb. 2018

Stitchers - Aug. 2016, March 2017, April 2018

Supergirl - March 2016, Sept. - Dec. 2016, Jan. - May 2017, Aug. 2017, Nov. - Dec. 2017, Feb. 2018, April - June 2018, Dec. 2018, Dec. 2019

Superman & Lois - Feb. - March 2021, May 2021 - July 2021

Supernatural – Nov. 2015, March 2016, May 2016, July – Sept. 2016, Oct. 2016 (Huge post), Nov. - Dec. 2016, Jan. - Aug. 2017, Oct. - Dec. 2017, January - Dec. 2018, Jan. - Dec. 2019, Jan. - Dec. 2020

Teen Wolf – Nov. 2015, Feb. 2016, March - April 2016, Nov. - Dec. 2016, Jan. - Feb. 2017, April 2017, Aug. - Sept. 2017

Terminator: The Sarah Connor Chronicles - June 2019, November 2019

Terra Nova - Oct. 2018

The Dead Zone - August 2020

The Flash – December 2015, February 2017, Aug. 2017, Nov. 2017, Oct. - Dec. 2018, Jan. 2019 - March - May 2019, Nov. - Dec. 2019, Feb. 2020

The Following - July 2017

The Librarians – Oct. - Nov. 2015, July 2016, Nov. - Dec. 2016, Jan. - Feb. 2017, April 2017, July - Oct. 2017, Dec. 2017, Jan. 2018, June 2018

The Mentalist - Nov. 2017

The Originals – Dec. 2015, April 2016, Dec. 2016, Sept. - Oct. 2017, Dec. 2017, Jan. 2018, April - Sept. 2018

The Passage - Jan. 2019 - March 2019

The Saddle Club - Oct. 2017

The Vampire Diaries - Jan. - March 2017, Sept. 2017, April 2018

The Walking Dead – March 2016

The Witcher - January 2020

This Is Us - January 2018

Transformers Prime - May 2017

Walker - Dec. 2020, Jan. - March 2021, May - July 2021

Warehouse 13 - May 2018

Whose Line Is It Anyway? - March 2017

Wildfire (ABC Family) - June 2016

Veronica Mars/Veronica Mars Movie - Sept. 2016, Aug. 2017

Young & Hungry - October 2017, September 2018

You Vs. Wild - May 2019

X-Files - January 2018 xxx Movies x

101 Dalmatians - July 2017

101 Dalmatians (1996) - July 2017

A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood - October 2020

A Cinderella Story - February 2018

After (2019) - October 2020

Age Of Adaline - June 2017

Aladdin (2019) - February 2020

Alice (2009) - April 2017

All Dogs Go To Heaven/ADGTH 2 - July 2017

Alpha Movie - December 2018

American Assassin - December 2017

An Extremely Goofy Movie - September 2020

A Puppy For Christmas - December 2016

Aquaman (2018) - Feb. 2019

A Star Is Born - September 2019

August Rush - November 2017

Avatar - February 2017

A Walk To Remember – May 2016

A Wrinkle In Time - June 2018

Back To The Future - June 2017

Balto - July 2017

Bambi - June 2016

Batman V. Superman - April 2016, May 2016, July 2016, Sept. 2016

Beastly - May 2018

Beauty And The Beast (Animated) - June 2016, Dec. 2016, Aug. 2017

Beauty And The Beast 2017 - Dec. 2016, Aug. 2017

Beethoven - October 2020

Before I Fall - October 2020

Bicentennial Man - October 2020

Black Beauty - September 2016

Blade - October 2020

Blade Runner 2049 - February 2018

Blood And Chocolate - September 2017

Bring It On - July 2018, October 2020

Brother Bear – May 2016

Can You Keep A Secret - December 2020

Casper - November 2019

Charlie St. Cloud - November 2017

City Of Angels - October 2020

Clash Of The Titans/Wrath Of The Titans - Sept. 2017

Constantine Movie - November 2020

Coyote Ugly - October 2020

Creed Movies - April 2016, Oct. 2018, May 2019

Criminal - December 2016

Cruel Intentions - September 2017

Daredevil (2003) - January 2018

Dawn Patrol - March 2018

Deadpool - September 2016

Descendants Series - Oct. 2017, Sept. 2019

Dirty Dancing - July 2017

Disturbia - October 2020

Doctor Dolittle (1998) - October 2020

Eight Below - September 2016

Ella Enchanted - Sept. 2017, Jan. 2019

Enemy Mine - January 2017

Eragon - September 2017

Everything Everything - August 2018

Fallen TV Movie - Jan. 2017

Fantastic Four (2005) - October 2020

Fast And Furious Movies - April 2016, April 2017, Feb. 2018, August 2019

Fighting With My Family - October 2020

Flicka (w/Tim McGraw) - September 2016

Flipper - October 2020

Footloose (1984) - July 2017

Footloose (2011) - Oct. 2017

Forever My Girl - March 2019

Free Willy - October 2020

Frozen - June 2016

Galaxy Quest - December 2017

Gemini Man - October 2020

George Of The Jungle - January 2017

Ghost (1990) - October 2020

Ghost Rider Movies - October 2020

Grease/Grease Movies - June 2017, October 2020

Gifted - Feb. 2018, June 2018

Hachi - September 2016

Hellboy Movies - May 2017, April 2019

Hercules (Animated) – May - June 2016

Hidalgo - September 2016

Homeward Bound - September 2016

Horse Sense - October 2017

Hours - June 2017

How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days - June 2017

I Am Legend - October 2020

I Am Number Four - May 2018

Ice Age Movies – May 2016

If I Stay – May 2016

If Only - January 2017, October 2020

I Frankenstein - April 2018

Instant Family - October 2020

Interstellar - September 2019

Iron Will - September 2016

Jack Frost (1998) - January 2017

John Wick Movies - July 2019

Jumanji Welcome To The Jungle - July 2018

Jumper - October 2020

Jurassic Park/Jurassic World Movies – May 2016, Dec. 2017, Oct. 2018, April 2020

Justice League - Sept. 2016, Aug. 2017, Nov. 2017, Jan. - Feb. 2018

Just Like Heaven - January 2017

Keith (2008) - October 2020

Kong Skull Island - December 2017

Lady And The Tramp - June 2016

Lassie (1994) - September 2016

Last Christmas - November 2019

Legally Blonde – May 2016

Legion (2010) - May 2017

Letters To Juliet - August 2018

Lone Survivor - December 2020

Love And Monsters - December 2020

Man Of Steel - April 2016, August 2017

Man On Fire - October 2020

Men In Black Movies - October 2020

Marley And Me - September 2016

Marvel Universe (Avengers, Spiderman, etc.) - April 2016, June - July 2016, Sept. 2016, Aug. 2017, Nov. 2017, Jan. 2018, March - April 2018, Sept. 2018, April 2019, Sept. 2019

Max (Dog Movie) - September 2016

Midnight Sun (2018) - October 2020

Moana - July 2017

Motocrossed - November 2017

Mulan (Animated) – May 2016

Mulan 2020 - December 2019

My Fake Fiance - October 2017

Narnia Series - September 2017

National Treasure (2004) - October 2020

Need For Speed - October 2020

Netflix Movies - May 2019

Night At The Museum (NATM Series) - March 2018

Oliver And Company - June 2016

Percy Jackson - October 2020

Planet Of The Apes Movies - October 2020

Pocahontas - June 2016

Priest - May 2017

Prince Of Persia (2010) - June 2017, October 2020

P.S. I Love You - October 2020

Raise Your Voice - January 2016

Real Steel - October 2020

Red Dog - September 2016

Remember Sunday – May 2016

Riddick Movies - October 2020

RoboCop/Robocop 2014 - February 2018

Rocky (1-6) - April 2016, May 2019

Safe Haven - October 2020

Save The Last Dance - October 2020

Seabiscuit - September 2016

Secretariat - September 2016

She’s Having A Baby - July 2017, October 2020

She’s The Man – May 2016

Shrek - June 2016, October 2020

Snow Dogs - September 2016

Snow White And The Huntsman - September 2017

Spiderman (2002) - August 2017, October 2020

Spirit: Stallion Of The Cimarron – May 2016

Spy Kids - April 2019

Star Trek (2009 Verse) - April 2016, July - Sept. 2016

Star Wars - April 2016, Sept 2016, Aug. 2017

Step Up Movies - October 2020

Suicide Squad - September 2016

Sweet Home Alabama - June 2017

Taken Movies - October 2020

Tangled - June 2016, May 2017

Tarzan (Animated) – May 2016

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (1990) - July 2017

Terminator Movies – May 2016

The Addams Family - February 2018, November 2019

The Art Of Racing In The Rain - October 2020

The Blue Lagoon (1980) - October 2020

The Crow (Original) – May 2016, October 2018

The Dark Knight/The Dark Knight Trilogy - June 2017, Aug. 2017

The Duff - February 2018

The Expendables Movies - October 2020

The Flintstones - October 2020

The Fox And The Hound - July 2017

The Game Plan - May 2018

The Greatest Showman - January 2018, May 2018

The Hitman’s Bodyguard - February 2020

The Horse Whisperer - September 2016

The Host - November 2017

The Hunger Games - May 2017, Aug. 2017

The Indian In The Cupboard - March 2018

The Jungle Book - August 2017

The Land Before Time - July 2017

The Last Witch Hunter - October 2020

The Legend Of Tarzan - June 2017

The Lion King Movies (Animated) – May - June 2016, May 2017

The Little Mermaid - June 2016

The Longest Ride - March 2018

The Lucky One - November 2017

The Magnificent Seven (2016) - Jan. 2017

The Mandalorian - Feb. 2020

The Maze Runner - May 2017, January 2018, May 2018

The Mummy (1999) - January 2017

The Mummy Returns - January 2017

The Notebook - July 2021

The Pacifier - May 2018

The Parent Trap - October 2020

The Patriot - October 2020

The Pirates Of The Caribbean (TPOTC Movies) - January 2020

The Prince & Me - October 2020

The Princess Bride - October 2020

The Princess Diaries/The Princess Diaries 2 - February 2018

The Proposal – May 2016

The Santa Clause/The Santa Clause Movies - January 2020

The Secret Life Of Pets - December 2016

The Sound Of Music - October 2020

The Ultimate Gift - December 2016

Titanic - October 2020

Togo - March 2020

Tomorrowland - October 2020

Toy Story - June 2016

Transformers Movies/Bumblebee 2018 - May 2017, April 2019

Tremors - July 2017

Tuck Everlasting - October 2020

Twilight Movies - May 2017

Twitches - July 2021

Unconditional - December 2016

Underworld Movies - October 2018

Walking Tall - January 2017

Walk The Line - October 2020

War Horse - Sept. 2016, Nov. 2016

Warm Bodies - November 2017

We Bought A Zoo - June 2017

While You Were Sleeping - October 2020

Winter’s Tale - October 2020

Wonder Woman (2017)/Wonder Woman 1984 - April 2016, July 2016, Nov. 2016, Sept. 2017, Dec. 2017, Dec. 2019

X-Men/Wolverine/Logan Movie - Oct. - Nov. 2016, Aug. 2017 xxx Animals/Nature (Horses, Dogs, etc.) - July 2016, Nov. 2016, April 2017, Aug. 2017, Nov. 2017, Nov. 2019 xxx

Jurassic World Evolution (XBox/PC Game) - Dec. 2018

The Isle (PC Game) - July 2020

The Walking Dead Game - Nov. 2016

xxx

The Hillywood Show/Hillywood - Nov. 2017, Aug. 2018

xxx

Youtubers

Buzzfeed Unsolved - April 2019

The Try Guys - April 2019

xxx

Other Actors - Under “Actors” Tag

Zac Efron - August 2017

Chris Pine - Sept. 2017

Chris Hemsworth - Sept. 2017

Michael B. Jordan - Dec. 2018

The tags for many actors are “Actors” or rarely, “Actor” xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx Shows, Movies, And Others To Come (By Priority)

Jurassic World 3

News Of The World (Tom Hanks)

Godzilla vs. Kong

The Good Doctor (ABC)

#Master Post #July 2021 #Shows #Movies #Other: Actors #Other: Nature

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it-fits-i-ships · 4 years ago

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I took inspiration from a post by @the-stove-is-on-fire and wrote this oneshot (below the read more link) about an AU in which Spideypool adopts Danny and Jazz Fenton and the sheer chaotic energy of Danny and Wade’s dynamic threatens to drive Peter insane. Just in time for Trans Day Of Visibility too!

Danny Fenton sat next to Great Aunt May on one of the plush blue couches in the living room. Wade, who sat on the far side of the couch, had wanted to get leather seating but Peter, who sat between Wade and Danny, had insisted on inventing a new stain-proof fabric because Wade couldn’t be trusted not to make a mess. On the other couch were Jazz, Grandma Pepper, Aunt Morgan, and Grandpa Tony, who was lifting a wrapped box toward Danny.

“Happy birthday, kiddo!” he said.

“Thanks, Grandpa!” Danny said, eagerly ripping open the paper to see what treasures lay within, “Oh awesome! I’ve been wanting to play this game forever! I didn’t even think it was out yet!”

“It’s not,” Grandpa Tony said, “I pulled some strings.”

“You’re the best!”

“There’s one more thing,” Grandpa Tony said, pointing toward the box.

Danny dug further into the tissue paper.

“A key?” Danny asked.

“It’s a key to your birthparents’ house,” Grandpa Tony said, “They were good friends of mine and when they died I bought their house and maintain it so you and Jazz could go there when you were old enough,” he paused and looked around at Peter, Wade, and Jazz, “I already talked it over with your dads and Jazz and we figure since you’re 14 now it’s time to give you the option to go there.”

He looked between Grandpa Tony and his dads, then at Jazz.

“Have you gone there yet?” Danny asked.

“No, I wanted to wait until we could go together,” she said.

“Can I have some time to think about it?”

Peter placed a hand gently on Danny’s shoulder.

“Of course, son, take all the time you need,” he said.

That night, after the party was over and the guests had gone home, Danny lay staring up at the ceiling. His thoughts raced around in his skull like the spinning blades of his ceiling fan so that just when he thought he had caught one long enough to get a good look at it he would find it had flown from his grasp. Of course Danny had known he and Jazz were adopted. Peter and Wade had been very upfront about that. They had also made sure Jazz and Danny knew they were loved and wanted. Danny would be lying if he said he had never been curious about his birth parents. He didn’t know or remember much about them, and some part of him had always wondered where he’d come from, but Peter and Wade had been so good to them he never really felt like he had been lacking for anything.

When Danny was 10 he came out as trans and they had immediately put him on puberty blockers, switched to his new name and pronouns, and gotten him a haircut. Peter and Wade had never cared about clothing so even when Danny was young they had let him pick out “boy” clothes, which meant he didn’t have to get a new wardrobe when he came out. Jazz and their dads had Danny’s back during his social transition, correcting people when they used the wrong name or pronouns and defending him when people tried to tell him he was just going through a phase. Danny really couldn’t have asked for a better upbringing. So do I really need to know more about my birth parents? He thought.

Just then, he heard a soft knock at his door. He turned to see Jazz standing in the hall outside his room.

“Hey,” she said, “Can I come in?”

“Sure,” he said, sitting up against his pillows.

“How are you doing?”

“Just trying to process.”

“I get that,” Jazz said, “It took me a while to wrap my head around the fact that our birth parents’ house is still intact, that we can actually go there and find out about them.”

“Do you remember them?” Danny asked.

“Not much,” she said, “I was only 4 when they died. I think they wore jumpsuits a lot?”

“Jumpsuits?”

Jazz shrugged.

“It was 12 years ago, I could be misremembering.”

“I don’t know if I want to go, Jazz,” Danny admitted, “Part of me wants to find out more about them but we already have parents, you know?”

Jazz sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Listen, Danny,” she said, “I’m not going to tell you what to do or how to feel. If you decide you don’t want to go to the house I’m not going to make you, and neither are Peter or Wade. This is your call. I want to go eventually and if you want to go then we’ll go together but if you don’t that’s okay too. I can always go with Peter or Grandpa Tony,” she paused and pulled him into a big hug, “Take some time to think it over so you make the right choice for you and then let me know what you decide when you’re ready.”

“Thanks, Jazz,” Danny said, leaning in return his sister’s hug.

“Any time,” she said, standing up, “I’m going to bed. Make sure you get some rest too, birthday boy.”

Danny nodded absentmindedly.

“Goodnight,” he said.

“Goodnight!”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Danny stood, key in hand, in front of a house that simultaneously felt vaguely familiar and vastly alien to him. There was a large bunch of tech on top of the house that looked like some kind of UFO and a huge light-up sign that read “Fenton Works.” Who the hell were these people? Danny thought. After a few agonizing weeks he had decided to come learn what he could about his birth parents and Peter had agreed to drive them to the old Fenton residence. He didn’t break his gaze from the house as he felt Jazz take his free hand in hers.

“Are you ready?” she asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” he said, stepping up to put the key in the door.

The three of them walked into the living room, which Danny immediately noticed had purple walls. On the far wall was an opening to a bright green kitchen.

“Wow,” Jazz said, “They had some, uh, interesting tastes in interior design.”

“What until you see the lab in the basement,” Peter said.

“The WHAT?!” Danny and Jazz said in unison.

“Why is everyone in our lives some kind of scientist or science experiment?” Jazz asked.

“Or both, in Grandpa Tony’s case,” Danny added.

Peter shrugged.

“Just lucky, I guess.”

“What did they even do here?” Danny asked.

“They were inventors. They used their tech to hunt ghosts,” Peter said.

“Ghosts?” Jazz said incredulously, “Really?”

Peter nodded.

“So they were crazy,” she said.

“They preferred to be called ‘misunderstood geniuses.’”

“Sure, geniuses on a mission to catch Casper.”

“Jazz,” Danny interjected, “Our dads have super powers, Wade is constantly breaking the laws of physics, Grandpa Tony has personally met aliens and deities, and you’re hung up on ghosts?”

Jazz raised her finger and opened her mouth as if to counter his argument but then, seeming to think better of it, she lowered her hand and closed her mouth as an annoyed look overtook her face.

“Let’s look around some more,” she said.

“Can I go down to the lab?” Danny asked.

“I want to look up here first,” Jazz said.

“Can I go look around by myself, Dad?” Danny asked, turning on his saddest puppy eyes.

“Okay, okay,” Peter said, “Just be careful. Don’t touch anything and put on one of the jumpsuits so you don’t accidentally get anything on your clothes.”

“Awesome!” Danny said, already searching for the staircase to the basement.

He quickly found it, descended into the drab gray laboratory, and slipped into one of the jumpsuits hanging on the wall as per Peter’s request. The lab was lined with consoles that had glowing panels and various buttons and switches, counters and tables covered with all kinds of lab equipment from microscopes to complicated networks of flasks and tubes, and a very cluttered work desk covered in noted, equations, and diagrams but the thing that really caught Danny’s attention was the massive metal archway on the far side of the room. It sat open and he squinted to try and make out what was inside. It appeared to be the entrance to some sort of tunnel. Couldn’t hurt to take a closer look, he thought.

Carefully, Danny crept into the dark tunnel. He could hardly see anything in the dim light. What the hell is this thing? He thought as he walked distractedly forward with his hands out in front of him. Before he could contemplate the structure further, his outstretched hand ran right into something small and round. The thing gave a click, a pit forming in Danny’s stomach as the tunnel lit up like the 4th of July with swirling green shapes he couldn’t identify. The light seemed to pass right through him and he felt as much as heard the scream that ripped from his chest as every atom of his being burned.

The next thing he knew he was on the floor outside the tunnel. He awoke to someone shaking him by the shoulders.

“Danny!” Jazz cried frantically, “Danny, please get up!”

He sat up slowly and clutched his aching head with a groan, only to give another when Jazz threw her arms tightly around him and forced the air out of his lungs.

“I thought you were dead,” she said.

“What happened?” Danny managed.

“I don’t know, kiddo,” Peter said, “But you might want to look in a mirror.”

“What?”

Peter and Jazz hoisted Danny up so he could see his reflection on the shiny glass screen of a large monitor on the wall. Oh shit. His hair had turned a stark white and his once blue eyes were glowing the same radioactive green that had filled the tunnel before he had lost consciousness. What the fuck? He thought, his panic rising exponentially as he leaned on the monitor with one hand to get a better look at himself. Suddenly, he was falling forward and his face smacked into the glass.

“Danny!” Jazz called.

“Are you okay?” Peter asked, reaching out to steady his son.

“I think s–”

His train of thought was completely derailed by the sight of his forearm, or lack thereof. He wiggled his fingers and clinched his fist. He could still feel his hand. Is my arm…invisible? He thought.

“Danny,” Peter said gently, “I think your panicking is making things worse. Look right at me,” he paused as he oriented Danny’s shoulders so they were facing each other, “And a take a deep, slow breath. In through the nose, out through the mouth,” he paused to demonstrate the technique and waited for Danny to copy him, “Good, one more time,” he paused for Danny’s breath, “Remember when you were 5 and Aunt May asked you to help her pick a puppy?” he asked.

“Yeah?” Danny said, torquing his eyebrows in confusion.

“There were so many,” Peter continued, “How did you know you picked the right one?”

“Donut was the only one who came up to give both of us kisses,” Danny said, “And he fell asleep in my lap. I thought he seemed like a good dog for Aunt May.”

As Danny thought back to that childhood memory he felt a strange tingling all over his body, like everything was shifting ever so slightly. He looked down and he could see his arm again. He snapped his head up to look back into the glass monitor, where his reflection showed his natural black hair and blue eyes.

“I’m back to normal!” he said, “How did you know that would work, Dad?”

“I freaked out really hard when I first got my powers. I ended up stuck to a wall with no idea how to get down. It wasn’t until I took a second to calm down that I was able to unstick myself. I figured it might be something similar with whatever that was,” Peter said.

“Do you think that’ll happen again?” Danny asked.

“Probably,” Peter admitted, “But for now I think we’ve all had enough excitement and we should head home. I’ll bring you kids back here later if you want,” he paused and looked directly at Danny, “With thorough supervision, of course.”

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Danny held his head in his hands, quite literally. He had finally mastered the trick where he could stretch an invisible bit of his body from his neck to the base of his head so it looked like his head was no longer attached. His two years of training had really paid off. Peter and Wade, and even Jazz, had helped him master his powers but he had been cooking this one up in secret for the express purpose of ghostly shenanigans. Jazz was away at college and Peter was still out for the day. Which means my first victim is –

“Hey, Danny,” Wade’s voice came around the corner as he approached the living room, “Did you eat the last pudding cup?”

“Maybe.”

“Bruh! I totally called dibs on that o–” Wade paused, taking in the scene before him, “Danny, what the fuck happened to your head?! Ugh! Peter’s gonna kill me!” he added.

Danny stuck out his tongue.

“I’m fine, just a little,” here he paused to toss his head into the air, “Lightheaded!”

“You little shit, that was beautiful!” Wade said, pulling a small throwing knife seemingly out of nowhere and chucking it at Danny.

“Dad, what the hell?”

“I’m not ‘Dad,’ I’m Deadpool! I’m here to eat pudding and throw knives,” he paused, lowering his voice, “And I’m all out of pudding.”

He threw a barrage of knives at Danny, who nimbly dodged the projectiles and lobbed a pillow from the couch right at Wade’s face. Each knife lodged itself into a different part of the couch as Danny fired off multiple blasts of ghost fire.

“Hey, Siri, play the Ghost Busters theme. I’m going hunting,” Wade said, brandishing the pillow and another knife at Danny.

Just then, they heard the front door open.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” came Peter’s voice, “There was a thing I had to take care of on the way home –”

He froze at the sight of his husband and son sparring in the living room, his handful of groceries seemingly forgotten.

“Danny started it!” Wade said quickly.

“Deadpool, you fucking snitch!” Danny called, pointing an accusatory finger at Wade.

“Language!” Peter said.

“Yeah, Danny, watch your fucking language,” Wade said, giggling under his breath.

“Wade!”

“What?”

Peter sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in a circular motion.

“All right,” he said quietly to himself, “So the new couches need to be stain-proof, knife-proof, and fire-proof. You two are in charge of putting the groceries away.”

“Did you get more pudding cups?” Wade asked hopefully.

Peter looked him dead in the eyes as he extracted two packages of pudding cups from one of the bags and tucked them under his arm.

“No,” he said, “Now go put this stuff away and clean up this mess,” he added, gesturing toward the living room.

He turned and headed, pudding still in tow, to his study.

Wade wiped away a single tear as the pudding vanished from sight.

“Oof,” said Danny.

#spideypool #spider man #deadpool #dannyphantom #myfic

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urrone · 4 years ago

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First Line Game

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors!

I was tagged by @swaps55 and I have zero idea of who to tag so tag yourselves, friendos.

In descending order:

Gravity - It’s been a lot of trial and error, but Julie’s phantoms have started to respect boundaries.

Scenes From a Cargo Bay - The first time Shepard comes down to the cargo bay, she still has soot streaked across her face.

A Better Forever - Bright, shiny demons creep on the edge of his vision, becoming memories he’s absolutely certain of in that moment: Katniss in the arena killing Rue, Katniss orchestrating the attack on 12 that took his family, Katniss as a mutt, Katniss kneeling before Snow.

Invisible Machinery - "I just want to see you smile again,” Kaidan says.

Let Me Hold You For Awhile - This was a first line meme and the title is the first line, which is boring, so here’s the second line: Dorian huffs a little against Bull’s chest, placing his limbs just so and tugging on Bull’s arms until they’re just exactly where he wants them.

lathbora viran - “You can’t do this, Solas,” Ellana says.

For a Single Yesterday - Joker had named their temporary completely uncharted home “Lame Jungle Planet” and because no one could come up with anything better, it stuck.

You’re Good For Me - The apartment is dead quiet when Jamie opens the door.

This Is How It Started - This is how it started: the pain in his leg cancels out everything else, which almost helps him focus.

A Brand New World Takes Shape - “Looks like you’ve found your new partner,” the Marshall says.

Show Me a Garden That’s Bursting Into Life - Jamie has to get special permission to leave the coast, which isn’t hard to get when he tells them what he wants it for.

Actually, Plenty - Light streams through the window near the bed and Nelson rolls over heavily, nudging his face under Annie’s pillow to block it out.

Shape I’m In - Tyler waits for Jamie outside the trainer's room.

Hold You Down - "Just hold yourself there," Taylor says, in a voice already gravelly and shaken.

Never Lived a Time Better Spent in Love - For the first month or so they have the baby, until he gains some heft and weight, Sid holds him like he's made of spun sugar, or maybe motes of dust that will burst apart if he holds too firmly.

Mildred: A College AU - Jared knows if he walks down B hallway between second and third period, he'll get to walk past Sandy McCoy as she's heading into AP Euro.

What Remains - Officer Nelson Fuller is sitting in his squad car along Route 4.

Everything Changes, Everything Stays the Same - Laid out on the ground, covered in dirt and soot and ash and Dean is patting him down, like flames are still licking at him, like Dean could even pat out hellfire.

The Road - She doesn’t know how long she’s been going down this road.

Under Your Skin Feels Like Home - He’s angry.

So right off the bat the most obvious thing that sticks out is how much I like starting stories in media res. Screw setting up a scene, let’s just start off right int he middle of the action.

The other thing that is absolutely wild to me is how little I’ve actually written. I feel like I’m always kinda working on something, but what I really do is write stories in my head, tell a bunch of people about them, and then never ever write them, except that I feel like I do. This list of 20 fics spans over a decade. I’m still in the middle of posting the two most recent but the last one was published in 2007. My brother was still in his first marriage and none of my niblings had even been born yet. Like. So wild.

Anyway, I don’t really particularly love any of my first lines, I just don’t feel like they’re a particular strength of mine, but of this sampling I think I like Never Lived a Time the best.

#meme #can we do a last line meme next #on writing #my stuff

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bluebeatlesgirls · 4 years ago

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Thanks for the tag @withthebeatlesgirls and @moreofthatdrowse !

Name/Nickname: Andrea/ Nia

Gender: Female (she/her)

Star sign: Virgo

Height: 1,57 ( i don't know in feet )

Time: 16:12

Favourite band: The Beatles, The Rolling Stones, Queen, The Neighbourhood

Favourite solo artist: Amy Winehouse, Elvis Presley, George Harrison, Bob Dylan, Leonard Cohen...

Song stuck in my head: Ball & Chain by Janis Joplin

Last movie: The Gentlemen

Last show: American Horror Story and That '70s Show

When did I create this blog: july or august 2020

Last thing I googled: Charlotte Martin story 🤷‍♀️

Other blog: Nop

Do I get asks: No, but I'd love to get some

Why I chose my url: it's my favorite color with my favorite girls ;)

Average hours of sleep: around 5, 6 or 7, It depends

Lucky number: 4

Instrument: piano but I'm a better singer soo

What am I wearing: Sleeveless shirt with a cardigan and pajama bottoms

Dream job: author, historian or form a band but I think that's going to be a bit difficult 😂

Dream trip: any part of Italy, New York and Ireland

Favourite food: pasta, chips and meat with mashed potatoes

Favourite song: So many different ones so I'm gonna say my current one My Dark Sweet Lady by George Harrison

Last book I read: Cold Blood by Truman Capote

Three universes I'd like to live in: Game Of Thrones, The Walking Dead and Peaky Blinders I suppose, although I don't know if they are considered universes

I tag: @magicaldestinytrash @tina-aumont @beatlesgirlfab @dreaminyourvoice @vinylvintage and anyone who want to do it!

#tag game #learn more about me

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klarsynt-arc · 3 years ago

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· ¨ ┅ ✦ . dash games ; SHAKESPEARE AESTHETICS :

ROMEO & JULIET:

HAMLET:

TWELFTH NIGHT:

MACBETH:

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING:

KING LEAR:

A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM:

TAGGED BY: stole it from @shesdaylight TAGGING: anyone who wants to

#〖 AESTHETIC: I FIND BEAUTY IN THE MOST COMMON DREAMS 〗

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shesdaylight-arch · 3 years ago

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· ¨ ┅ ✦ . dash games ; SHAKESPEARE AESTHETICS :

ROMEO & JULIET:

HAMLET:

TWELFTH NIGHT:

MACBETH:

MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING:

KING LEAR:

A MIDSUMMER NIGHT’S DREAM:

TAGGED BY: @salvatoraes <3 TAGGING: if you see this say i tagged you!!

#♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ / 7 am the usual morning line up ⟶ character study.#♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ / haven’t any of you ever had a dream ⟶ queue.

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starlightinhumanform · 5 years ago

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Strong As The Sun

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Romantic Prinxiety, Platonic Analogicality

Summary: It’s Roman’s last summer before going off to college; he should be spending it hanging out at the beach and having fun. Instead, he is wasting his time away beneath the eye of his cruel manager and behind the counter of the local fair’s Help Center. His day gets a little more interesting when Virgil Sanders collapses into his arms.

Warnings (in order of strength): Moderate language throughout, Description of physical illness throughout, Not panic but Virgil does get pretty upset a couple times. Please tell me if anything needs to be added. Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Human AU

A/N: -The Dragon Witch is Ms. Drakon -Because of his anxiety, Virgil clings to ‘comfort items’ (in this case, his hoodie) And lastly: I am not a medical professional!! This is all based on my own experiences with heat exhaustion and may not be entirely accurate. If you are ever in a situation like this, don’t be like Roman! Get some help! Hope you enjoy! Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3 Link Fic Masterpost Fic Request Info

Roman couldn’t put his finger on the reason he loved his job so much. Maybe it was the suffocating heat that made him sweat so much his hair was consistently ruined by the end of every shift. Or maybe it was the entitled older folks who would yell at him for doing what his manager told him to do. It could have been the way his manager yelled at him for... doing exactly what she had told him to do. The best part was definitely the smell- a magical combination of cheap grease, sunscreen, animal waste, and a good amount of human waste.

Yeah, ok, his job sucked. Standing at the help desk of a local fair for 12 hours everyday was not exactly Roman’s ideal summer plan. It was his last summer before college; he should be getting toned from surfing at the beach all day where he would inevitably find his dream man and they would live happily ever after.

“Roman?! Did you hear a word I just said?”

Roman jerked his head up from where it had been resting in his hand (the perfect position for daydreaming himself away from this hell) and tried to look alert, “Yeah, sure! Of course!”

His manager scowled at him from across the counter. She looked like what would have happened if Snow White had made some sort of pact with the evil witch- sickly pale skin, blood red lips, and smooth black hair that never had a strand out of place. She tapped her nails against the desk and raised one perfectly manicured eyebrow, “Well, in that case, could you repeat it to me?”

“No, Ms. Drakon,” Roman hung his head, hoping his pathetic act would earn him some crumb of pity.

His manager just rolled her eyes, turning around and glaring at him over her shoulder, “I was saying you need to do a better job of looking enthusiastic- more ready to help. If you don’t, well just remember: there are plenty of other desperate teenagers who will easily take your place.”

The witch stalked away, stopping occasionally to bare her teeth at patrons in substitute of an actual smile. Roman barely resisted the urge to flip her off but decided it wasn’t worth the risk. He was positive at this point that she had eyes in the back of her head.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes and standing up straighter in an attempt to look more “enthusiastic”- or at least awake. Drakon might have been the epitome of evil, but she was right. It would be as easy as snapping her fingers to have Roman fired and replaced. And that was not something he could afford- literally.

Roman shoved the thoughts aside as a family walked up. He saw so many of the same groups over and over again that they all started to blend together. This one was no different- a loud, angry straight couple surrounded by a horde of unruly children.

The man slammed his fist down on the counter as he approached and Roman plastered on a smile, “Hi sir! How can I help you?”

Yep. Today was going to be fun. It was only noon and he had already a) gotten puked on by a little kid, b) had nearly been fired, and now c) yelled at because apparently the carnival games were arranged incorrectly and it was somehow his fault.

Roman spent the next two hours trying not to space out but it was so hard when he wanted to be anywhere else. He decided he was never going to a fair ever again. Ever. Unless it was with a boyfriend. Who he would win a bunch of prizes for. And take selfies with while they ate matching cotton candy. And they would ride the Ferris wheel together and kiss at the top. Hmmmm, so maybe he would never go to a fair ever again unless certain requirements were met.

If only his Prince Charming could come along now, jump over the desk partition, reach for Roman’s hand, and whisk him away to some place that had air conditioning. He would be tall, muscular, with a strong jawline, and-

“Excuse me?”

Roman glanced down, trying to find the kid who was trying to get his attention.

“Up here?”

He moved his gaze upwards to find a guy about his age wearing a dark hoodie with his hands shoved in his pockets. Not surprisingly, he looked like he was dying from the heat.

“Oh sorry. I thought you were,” Roman waved his hand at his knee, “small.”

The stranger grimaced, “Gonna try not to be insulted by that.”

“Anyways... how can I help you?” Even though the statement was built into Roman’s subconscious script, he really did mean it. The boy kept swaying and Roman wasn’t sure if it was some kind of nervous fidget or because he was actually about to pass out.

“Yeah. Right. Sorry. I’m just kinda- my head-“ He ran his hands through his hair, “Basically I lost my group and my phone is dead and I have no idea where they are and-“

He tried to take a step forward but stumbled, gripping the desk for support. Roman’s protective instincts kicked in immediately. He swung open the little shack’s gate and began leading the boy back to the shade of the awning, one arm swung around his chest to support him.

“I’m fine, really,” He tried to protest but used Roman as crutch as if this was A Christmas Carole and he was Tiny Tim.

Roman snorted as he latched the gate shut behind them, “You’re not ‘fine’- you can barely walk.”

Roman set the boy down on the rough floors, concerned by how hard he was breathing. He grabbed a water bottle from beneath the counter and offered it as he squatted down. This close, Roman was able to get a better evaluation his guest.

The good news: the heavy darkness beneath his eyes was eyeshadow- not some sort of bruise or dark circles that were so bad they could be seen from three feet away. The bad news: basically everything else. His breathing was labored. His face was deathly pale- nearly gray- and beaded with sweat. His black skinny jeans, heavy boots, and oversized purple hoodie were ideal for perhaps a light rain in mid October; at a fair during the sadistic month of July, the outfit looked nearly deadly.

Roman chewed the bottom of his lip. He really wasn’t trained for this sort of thing. His job was to look cute at the entrance and tell people where they could find the petting zoo. But he couldn’t just turn this guy away, “Look, you can stay here as long as you need but if my boss sees you, I’m dead so just try to stay low or something.”

The boy had been gulping down the water bottle but froze suddenly. His eyes widened and he started scrambling to get up. His feet scrabbled beneath him like a puppy who wasn’t used to their legs yet.

“Hey, hey, stop!” Roman hissed under his breath, trying to avoid making a scene, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want you to get in trouble. It’s better if I just go,” The boy stopped struggling and stared at Roman with eyes the size of a small planet. They were blue, so deep and dark they almost looked purple. Beneath them, the messy eyeshadow was smudged by what Roman realized were tear streaks.

“Shut up, Emo. I’m not going to let you leave until I know it’s safe,” Roman reached out, brushing his thumb across the boy’s cheekbones to wipe away the dark trails the makeup had made.

The boy looked confused but didn’t try to duck away from Roman’s touch, “What are you doing?”

Roman drew his hand back and stared down at it. He felt just as confused as the boy looked. What was he doing? He huffed out a laugh, “I- I’m not sure. I don’t think either of us are thinking very clearly right now.”

Across from him, the boy bowed his head down so Roman couldn’t see his face and started drinking from the bottle again- less desperately this time. Roman got the feeling the conversation was over.

He stood up and shifted so he was more centered at the desk, “I have to look like I’m actually doing my job, but tell me if you need anything. Try to, uh, cool off or something. I’ve got plenty of water bottles over here.”

“Virgil.”

“I’m sorry?” Roman turned to face the shadow of a human in the corner of his shack. The boy was trying to take up less space, but his lanky legs made it hard to curl up.

“My name is Virgil.”

Roman smiled, “Nice to meet you, Virgil. I’m Roman.”

Virgil nodded as if Roman had given the correct answer and was allowed to go back to his job.

The next hour passed sluggishly. Roman told six separate women asked where the bathrooms were but he could swear they were all the exact same person. He saw the girl who ran the lemonade stand spit into a drink at least twice. At some point, Virgil fell asleep, the back of his head pressed against the gate and his neck bent at an angle that would probably hurt when he woke up. His breathing was still a worrying rasp and Roman couldn’t help but glance over towards Virgil’s corner whenever he got the chance.

Three o’clock rolled in like it didn’t want to come. Roman slammed down his sign that read “I’m On Break Right Now!! I’ll Be Back In A Few Minutes :)” and dared the Karen who was marching toward his stand to take another step forward.

When he was sure the coast was clear, he ducked onto the floor and grabbed another water bottle as he scooted next to Virgil. This close, Roman could feel tremors that were running through Virgil’s body.

“Hey buddy, wake up,” Roman shook Virgil’s shoulders gently, wincing at the heat that radiated through the thick sweatshirt.

Virgil’s eyes blinked open slowly, glassy and unfocused. He searched around the small space before his gaze settled on Roman, “Where am- oh that’s right. I’m still here?”

Roman couldn’t explain it but something about the venomous disappointment in Virgil’s voice hit him in the chest. He shook the feeling away quickly when he remembered what was going on, “You’re burning up. I want you to drink some more water. And I think you’re going to need to take off that sweatshirt.”

Virgil collapsed in on himself, wrapping his arms around his chest and pressing himself against the side of the shack, “I don’t want to take it off.”

Roman could feel his eyebrows scrunching together by their own accord, “Why not?”

Virgil just shrugged and looked away which perfectly conveyed the message of I know exactly why and I’m not going to tell you.

“Ok, ok, whatever. It’s not like that stupid hoodie is seriously damaging your health or anything.”

Virgil flopped his head to the side to glare with two ice-cold flames. Roman got the feeling that if Virgil had more strength, he would’ve gotten slapped.

Roman pinched the bridge of his nose, searching for options. It’s not like he could force Virgil to take the sweatshirt off- that would be weird for anyone. Besides, he still hardly knew this kid. Maybe he refused to take the hoodie off because he had some giant tattoo from a gang. Did gangs get tattoos? Like the dark mark from Harry Potter? Roman was getting sidetracked and Virgil looked like the type of person who rarely left his house. Ok so definitely not the type to join a gang.

But the fact that they hardly knew each other still stood. If he pushed it too far, he would be crossing about twenty boundaries. On the other hand, Virgil was looking worse and worse by the second. In the space of a few blinks, his expression had faded from a glare to half-lidded stupor.

Roman grimaced as he pressed the back of his hand against Virgil’s forehead. His bangs were damp and his skin felt like a hot pan just off the stove. Roman brushed his hand upwards, combing his fingers through Virgil’s hair.

Virgil’s gaze flicked over to meet Roman’s eyes, unfocused and filmy. But within those eyes, swimming in the purple beneath, Roman could see so much emotion, it almost hurt to look at. Those eyes pleaded with him, so full of fear.

Roman sighed. He simply couldn’t say no that stare, “Yeah ok. You can keep the damn thing on. But we need to figure out a way to get your fever down.”

Virgil slumped sideways into Roman, pressing into him instead of the wall. The chills running through his body were so strong that Roman almost wondered if they were contagious somehow. He snuggled further against Roman, his head pressing into Roman’s shoulder.

Roman didn’t know what to do. What he wanted to do was wrap his arms around this strange little shadow and never let go. In reality, though, even this much contact was probably worsening Virgil’s temperature.

“Hey,” Roman shook Virgil’s far shoulder slightly to get his attention, “I had an idea. Would you be ok with just unzipping your hoodie? You wouldn’t have to take it off!”

Virgil responded by wrapping himself around Roman’s arm like some baby marsupial, “Too tired. Just wanna sleep.”

Roman could hardly hear Virgil’s muttering through the material of his own shirt. He sighed, “Yeah. Well too bad. Will you please just keep yourself from dying?”

“Ti-r-ed,” Virgil drew out the vowels like a whiny little kid.

“What- do you want me to do it?” Roman huffed out an exasperated laugh.

Against him, he felt Virgil shrug, “Sure.”

“Oh,” Roman hadn’t been expecting that answer. He had asked as a joke after all. Virgil had made such a big deal about keeping the sweatshirt on that Roman felt that he was crossing a line by even touching it.

Roman untangled Virgil’s arms for his and propped him against the wall. The boy moved as if he were a rag doll in Roman’s hands and it was nearly enough make Roman queasy. He scooted over so he was facing Virgil.

He watched him with those big eyes. Big, soft eyes. They carried so much uncertainty, always tracking Roman’s movement without ever shifting their gaze. But they held the weight of trust as well- feeling safe despite not knowing what Roman was going to do. Roman glowed under the trust, feeling like he had been awarded a treasure few could even find. At the same time, he was positive he didn’t deserve it. He didn’t know if he was doing the right things. How could Virgil seem so certain that Roman would help him if even Roman didn’t know that?

Roman reached forward, hands freezing as they hovered over the zipper that hung just below the dip of Virgil’s collarbone. This was weird. He knew these were “special circumstances” but still... it was weird. Roman cleared his throat, “Uh, sorry, this is just kind of awkward.”

Virgil mustered another glare, less deadly this time but still managing to clearly convey the message of Stop being such a useless gay.

Roman cleared his throat again. He probably sounded like he was developing a case of pneumonia, “Right. Sorry.”

Said useless gay took a deep breath and pulled the zipper down. Underneath, Virgil was wearing a plain black muscle tank to match the rest of his dark outfit. Roman had to give him credit for committing so strongly to the aesthetic. A part of him was still surprised that Virgil’s hoodie wasn’t hiding some kind of green alien body.

“Surprised I’m not some kind of green alien?”

Roman realized he had been staring and immediately tried to find something else to look at. His brain apparently decided that the best solution was to reread the safety rules posted on the back wall. He could feel a blush rising to his face and he was pretty sure it had something to do with the way the tank top dipped lowly across Virgil’s chest and hung across his delicate collarbones.

Roman nearly started laughing at himself out loud. He sounded like a repressed Victorian maiden. What he going to do next? Maybe he would stomp his feet and start chanting Show me your ankle! Show me your ankle!

“Hey, help me with this?” Virgil’s strained voice brought Roman’s attention swinging back to the real world. He was trying to shrug the sweatshirt off his shoulders while still trying to move as little as possible.

Roman reached out again, probably too quickly. He was acting so strange. He wished his hands would stop shaking so much.

“Oh, Roman?” A sugar-sweet, poisoned voice floated into the shack just as Roman managed to get the last sleeve past Virgil’s elbow.

“Shit,” Roman hissed under his breath, “That’s my manager.”

Virgil’s eyes went wide but Roman didn’t have the time to reassure him. He threw the nearest thing over Virgil which happened to be a beach towel from the lost and found. It probably wouldn’t help his temperature at all, but at least Ms. Drakon wouldn’t see him.

Roman pulled out his winning grin as he stood up, “Why, hello, Ms. Drakon!”

She responded with an equally bright mouthful, but Roman wouldn’t dare to call it a smile, “Roman, it seems you have quite a crowd beginning to build up!”

He glanced over and suppressed a groan as he saw the trail of unhappy looking people that glared at him from an ever-growing line. He turned his attention back to Drakon, pointing down to the sign propped on the counter, “Yes, ma’am, I see that. I will make sure that they are all satisfied as soon as my break is over.”

Her eyes wrinkled as her mouth widened, but there was nothing friendly about them, “I think you’ve been on break long enough.”

“Yes, of course!” In Roman’s head, a large anvil had just landed on Drakon’s head.

Drakon disappeared into the crowd and Roman turned to the daunting line in front of him. The snake was headed by a group of 12 year old girls. They were easiest type to deal with. Bless their boyband obsessed hearts- they were probably the only reason the counter hadn’t been broken down by a mob of angry middle aged women with expired passes. He gave them a wink, “I’ll be with you ladies in a minute.”

Judging by the giggles that erupted as he sank down behind the counter, he had bought himself a minute or two.

“Hey there,” Roman was trying to be quiet but he was surprised at how soft his voice came out.

He pulled the towel away to find Virgil fast asleep. His breath was definitely starting to even out. The stupid hoodie pooled around him, still attached at the wrists. A tiny hint of a smile tugged at one side of his lips.

Roman ruffled his hands through Virgil’s hair, “Hang in there, buddy.”

He twirled around as he stood up, adding a little more dramatic flair than needed. He flicked the sign down with one finger. The smile he beamed at the crowd was genuine; this time he had something to smile about- even if he wasn’t quite sure what it was.

Another hour passed by with all of the ease of a root canal. A person told him they wanted a discount because their child had found a dead rat in a trash can. Roman tried to explain that it was a good thing it was in a trash can instead of anywhere else. The lemonade girl flipped someone off. She was Roman’s hero.

Virgil only began stirring by the end of it, blinking his eyes open like a owl in daylight. He looked around the shack like he was seeing it for the first time. His eyes were sharper than Roman had seen them before, glittering like obsidian now that they could focus.

Roman tried his best to concentrate on the customer in front of him, but he kept glancing back and grinning at Virgil. It was nice to see him looking more like a human and less like a very unhealthy zombie.

For what seemed like an eternity and a half, the customer refused to leave. Finally Roman made an under-the-table deal consisting of extra arcade tickets and a free voucher for lemonade just to get rid of them. He hoped the lemonade got spat in.

“Coast clear?” Virgil’s small voice came from what Roman had officially began calling Virgil’s Corner. He sounded different- probably because he wasn’t fighting for his life. His voice was still low, but the gravel in his tone sounded far more intentional and less like Holy shit I can’t breathe.

Roman turned around and leaned against the counter, “Ah! Sleeping Beauty awakes! How are you feeling?”

“Would I sound ungrateful if I said I feel like shit?”

Roman made an exaggerated act of thinking about it, “Just a little bit. But also honest.”

Virgil nodded and then looked down at the ground, letting a beat of silence fall between them. Roman got the feeling that Virgil had something to say, but they both had to wait for it to arrive.

Virgil began pulling the hoodie back up around his hunched shoulders, eyes still burning holes through the floor of the stall.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Roman sunk down to the floor, “Don’t put that thing back on. I just got you breathing right again- don’t make us start over from square one.”

He placed his hand against Virgil’s forehead again, “You still feel kinda overheated to me so-“

Roman stopped speaking as Virgil flinched away from the touch. His eyes darted around as if they couldn’t find a single safe place to land. He pulled his arms and legs in, tense and ready to- to do what, though? He looked like he wanted to hide, and run, and fight all at the same time. Virgil had quickly transformed into a cornered wild animal.

“Virgil, what’s wrong?” Roman spoke as softly and slowly as he could but tension was mounting within him as well. Had he done something wrong? Was Virgil hurt?

“They didn’t ask about me, did they?” Virgil spoke as if he didn’t want is voice to be heard.

“I’m sorry, who didn’t ask about you?”

“My group. The ones I came with. They both wear glasses and have brown hair and one’s shorter than the other and the taller one has freckles and was wearing a black button down and the other was wearing a blue shirt and- and,” Virgil’s voice broke and Roman’s heart along with it, “-and they’re my best friends.”

Suddenly Roman remembered the reason Virgil had shown up at his desk in the first place. It wasn’t the heat exhaustion- he had gotten lost.

Virgil succeeded in wrapped himself up in his sweatshirt. He curled into a tight ball, knees pulled against his chest and eyes just barely peeking above top of them.

“Hey, well, they’re probably looking around the fair for you. A lot of people don’t even know about my dumb little shack here! They’ll turn up eventually.”

Virgil shook his head, “They wouldn’t even look for me. They’ve probably left by now.”

“I really don’t think-“

Roman was cut off by Virgil launching himself onto him, wrapping his arms like a vice around Roman’s chest and digging his face into Roman’s shoulder. Shuddering sobs wracked Virgil’s body, all the panic and pain of today running onto Roman’s shoulder and staining his shirt with dark eyeshadow.

But Roman wasn’t thinking about that. He was hardly thinking at all. Roman was angry. Maybe angrier than he had ever been at that Drakon bitch or any of the customers that screamed at him or the kids who threw things at him or the teenagers who would snicker just loud enough so that he could hear them. That was trivial.

He was so mad. Mad at the pigs who stranded Virgil on his own, who apparently didn’t give a shit about his wellbeing, who made him feel so worthless that his immediate assumption was that they had left him behind.

Roman hoped they showed up. He would rip them to pieces.

He wrapped one arm around Virgil as tightly as he could and cradled the back of his head with his other hand. He didn’t want to let go; he wouldn’t let go. Roman could feel Virgil’s nails digging into his back as he gripped Roman’s shirt in fists.

Roman began rocking gently back and forth, moving his fingers through Virgil’s hair and letting his nails scratch softly against his scalp. Soon, Virgil’s sobs subsided into smaller hiccups. Roman could still feel hot tears soaking through his shirt.

They stayed huddled on the floor for a good minute before Virgil slowly raised his head, “I’m sorry, sometimes I get-“

“Hey, don’t be sorry,” Roman ran his thumb across Virgil’s cheek, brushing away the tears that ran down it. Like this, Virgil’s eyes looked ethereal, two pools of pure enchantment. Roman was sure he could spend the rest of his life memorizing the way the sunlight play against them.

“Excuse me?”

“Shit, shit, shit, damn it,” Roman knew he should have put his do not disturb sign up.

Virgil jerked his head up, “Patton?!”

Roman looked up to see another teenager about his age leaning over the counter. He was wearing glasses and a blue T-shirt with the Humane Society logo.

His face melted into a relieved smile as Virgil stood up, “Thank goodness we found you- we’ve been looking everywhere.”

He wrapped Virgil in a hug as yet another teenager appeared. He was taller, with eyes nearly as dark as Virgil’s, and he looked like he might sit down and begin discussing taxes with you at any moment.

This one nodded, “I created a systematic search pattern to use. Unfortunately, we were not even made aware of this place until a rather rude young lady at the lemonade stand directed us over here.”

The one called Patton let go of Virgil just long enough for the other to give him a quick hug before grabbing him into another embrace, “Oh we were so worried.”

Roman felt a pang in his chest. This was good, right? Virgil was safe now. And obviously his friends weren’t the monsters Roman had assumed them to be. So it was all good. Yep. Definitely. Totally. Then why did he feel so damn sad?

“Yeah, yeah, I’m ok,” Roman looked up to see Virgil wiping off his face as the other two fussed over him, “I wouldn’t be though if it weren’t for Roman.”

The more serious one raised an eyebrow, “Who?”

Roman rose up from the ground, feeling sheepish for a reason he couldn’t explain, “Uh, that would be me.”

“Logan, Patton, this is Roman,” Virgil glanced over and gave him a warm smile, “He helped me out in more ways than one.”

Patton pulled Roman into a squeeze, wrapping his arms around his neck in a way that made Roman bend down, “Thank you so, so much.”

Logan took a moment from talking to Virgil in a tone to stare at Roman, “You got him to take off his hoodie?”

Roman escaped from Patton’s reach, “Uh, well, I think he kind of had heat exhaustion-“

Logan turned his attention back to Virgil, “But you don’t take that thing off unless you’re very comfortable with someone or-“

“Or really like them. Yeah, I know,” Virgil stared at the floor, a bright red rising to his face.

“Oh,” Roman wasn’t sure what else to say. He could feel a blush as deep as Virgil’s tinting his complexion.

Logan looked down at a watch wrapped around his wrist, “Thank you for helping our friend, but we really must be going now.”

“Right. Yes. Of course,” Roman nodded, trying to clear his head. The implications of what Logan had said were quickly replaced by gloom.

Roman hoped the sadness sitting in he’s chest like a lead weight didn’t carry into his voice. He swung open the gate and tried for a smile as Virgil stepped past him.

Roman watched as Virgil stepped down into the dirt, probably the last time he was ever going to see him. Roman almost let him get away. Almost.

“Hey, wait!” Roman leaned out and grabbed Virgil’s hand. He reached for his pocket and waved his phone, “Could I get your number?”

Virgil’s jaw dropped, “You had a phone this entire time?!”

Roman blinked dumbly at Virgil as realization hit him, “Oh my god, I did.”

Virgil looked off into the distance as if he couldn’t process Roman’s lack of brain cells. At long last he began laughing. It started off as a snicker, developing into a full on cackle and finally dissolving into a wheeze. It was one of the ugliest laughs Roman had ever heard and some of the sweetest music he’d ever listened to. Virgil straightened up from where he had collapsed with his hands on his knees, “Oh my god; you’re so stupid.”

Roman felt his heart drop, “So that’s a no?”

“I didn’t say that either,” Virgil took a step forward and snatched the phone from Roman’s still out-stretched hand.

He gave it back after a few seconds of quick typing and seemed to be about to walk away, but froze, staring intensely at something on Roman’s shirt.

“What is it?” Roman craned his neck to find what Virgil was looking at.

“Well you’ve got something,” Virgil leaned forward, poking his hand against Roman’s chest for a moment before brushing it upwards and flicking Roman in the nose, “Right there.”

Before Roman hand a chance to react, Virgil had turned on his heel and was jogging to catch up with his two companions who were chatting at the gate. He watched as the group headed away, focusing on the purple hoodie in the middle until they turned a corner and Roman couldn’t stare anymore.

Heat still beat down from the summer sky, but Roman was sure that the warmth radiating from his chest could rival any sun.

If you want to join my Sanders Sides fic taglist just send me an ask or reply to this post :p

~ @phan-fander ~

#prinxiety #prinxiety fic #prinxiety hurt/comfort #prinxiety fluff #prinxiety high school au #prinxiety human au #prinxiety fanfic #prinxiety fanfiction #virgil x roman #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #sanders sides human au #sanders side high school au #ts roman #ts virgil #romantic prinxiety #platonic analogicality #starlight writes

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birdlord · 4 years ago

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Everything I Watched in 2020

We’ll start with movies. The number in parentheses is the year of release, asterisks denote a re-watch, and titles in bold are my favourite watches of the year. Here’s 2019’s list.

01 Little Women (19)

02 The Post (17)

03 Molly’s Game (17)

04 * Doctor No (62)

05 Groundhog Day (93)

06 *Star Trek IV - The Voyage Home (86)

07 Knives Out (19) My last theatre experience (sob)

08 Professor Marston and his Wonder Women (17)

09 Les Miserables (98)

10 Midsommar (19) I’m not sure how *good* it is, but it does stick in the ol’ brain

11 *Manhattan Murder Mystery (93)

12 Marriage Story (19)

13 Kramer vs Kramer (79)

14 Jojo Rabbit (19)

15 J’ai perdu mon corps (19) a cute animated film about a hand detached from its body!

16 1917 (19)

17 Married to the Mob (88)

18 Klaus (19)

19 Portrait of a Lady on Fire (19) If Little Women made me want to wear a scarf criss-crossed around my torso, this one made me want to wear a cloak

20 The Last Black Man in San Francisco (19)

21 *Lawrence of Arabia (62)

22 Gone With the Wind (39)

23 Kiss Me Deadly (55)

24 Dredd (12)

25 Heartburn (86) heard a bunch about this one in the Blank Check series on Nora Ephron, sadly after I’d watched it

26 The Long Shot (19)

27 Out of Africa (85)

28 King Kong (46)

29 *Johnny Mnemonic (95)

30 Knocked Up (07)

31 Collateral (04)

32 Bird on a Wire (90)

33 The Black Dahlia (05)

34 Long Time Running (17)

35 *Magic Mike (12)

36 Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead (07)

37 Cold War (18)

38 *Kramer Vs Kramer (79) yes I watched this a few months before! This was a pandemic friend group co-watch.

39 *Burn After Reading (08)

40 Last Holiday (50)

41 Fly Away Home (96)

42 *Moneyball (11) I’m sure I watch this every two years, at most??

43 Last Holiday (06) the Queen Latifah version of the 1950 movie above, lacking, of course, the brutal “poor people don’t deserve anything good” ending

44 *Safe (95)

45 Gimme Shelter (70)

46 The Daytrippers (96)

47 Experiment in Terror (62)

48 Tucker: The Man and His Dream (88)

49 My Brilliant Career (79) one of the salvations of 2020 was watching movies “with” friends. Our usual method was to video chat before the movie, sync our streaming services, and text-chat while the movie was on.

50 Divorce Italian Style (61)

51 *Gosford Park (01) another classic comfort watch, fuck I love a G. Park

52 Hopscotch (80)

53 Brief Encounter (45)

54 Hud (63)

55 Ocean’s 8 (18)

56 *Beverly Hills Cop (84)

57 Blow the Man Down (19)

58 Constantine (05)

59 The Report (19) maddening!! How are people so consistently terrible to one another!

60 Everyday People (04)

61 Anatomy of a Murder (58)

62 Spiderman: Homecoming (17)

63 *To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar (95) Of the 90s drag road movies, Priscilla is more visually striking, but this has its moments.

64 Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me (92)

65 *The Truman Show (98)

66 Mona Lisa (86)

67 The Blob (58)

68 The Guard (11)

69 *Waiting for Guffman (96) RIP Fred Willard

70 Rocketman (19)

71 Outside In (18)

72 The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (08) how strange to see a movie that you have known the premise for, but no details of, for over a decade

73 *Star Trek: The Undiscovered Country (91)

74 The Reader (08)

75 Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker (19) This was fine until it VERY MUCH WAS NOT FINE

76 The End of the Affair (99) you try to watch a fun little romp about infidelity during the Blitz, and Graham Greene can’t help but shoehorn in a friggin crisis of religious faith

77 Must Love Dogs (05) barely any dog content, where are the dogs at

78 The Rainmaker (97)

79 *Batman & Robin (97)

80 National Lampoon’s Vacation (83) Never seen any of the non-xmas Vacations, didn’t realize the children are totally different, not just actors but ages! Also, this one is blatantly racist!

81 *Mystic Pizza (88)

82 Funny Girl (68)

83 The Sons of Katie Elder (65)

84 *Knives Out (19) another re-watch within the same year!! How does this keep happening??

85 *Scott Pilgrim Vs The World (10) a real I-just-moved-away-from-Toronto nostalgia watch

86 Canadian Bacon (92) vividly recall this VHS at the video store, but I never saw it til 2020

87 *Blood Simple (85)

88 Brittany Runs a Marathon (19)

89 The Accidental Tourist (88)

90 August Osage County (13) MELO-DRAMA!!

91 Appaloosa (08)

92 The Firm (93) Feeling good about how many iconic 80s/90s video store stalwarts I watched in 2020

93 *Almost Famous (00)

94 Whisper of the Heart (95)

95 Da 5 Bloods (20)

96 Rain Man (88)

97 True Stories (86)

98 *Risky Business (83) It’s not about what you think it’s about! It never was!

99 *The Big Chill (83)

100 The Way We Were (73)

101 Safety Last (23) It’s getting so that I might have to add the first two digits to my dates...not that I watch THAT many movies from the 1920s...

102 Phantasm (79)

103 The Burrowers (08)

104 New Jack City (91)

105 The Vanishing (88)

106 Sisters (72)

107 Puberty Blues (81) Little Aussie cinema theme, here

108 Elevator to the Gallows (58)

109 Les Diaboliques (55)

110 House (77) haha WHAT no really W H A T

111 Death Line (72)

112 Cranes are Flying (57)

113 Holes (03)

114 *Lady Vengeance (05)

115 Long Weekend (78)

116 Body Double (84)

117 The Crazies (73) I love that Romero shows the utter confusion that would no doubt reign in the case of any kind of disaster. Things fall apart.

118 Waterlilies (07)

119 *You’re Next (11)

120 Event Horizon (97)

121 Venom (18) I liked it, guys, way more than most superhero fare. Has a real sense of place and the place ISN’T New York!

122 Under the Silver Lake (18) RIP Night Call

123 *Blade Runner (82)

124 *The Birds (62) interesting to see now that I’ve read the story it came from

125 *28 Days Later (02) hits REAL FUCKIN’ DIFFERENT in a pandemic

126 Life is Sweet (90)

127 *So I Married an Axe Murderer (93) find me a more 90s movie, I dare you (it’s not possible)

128 Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner (67)

129 The Pelican Brief (93) 90s thrillers continue!

130 Dick Johnston is Dead (20)

131 The Bridges of Madison County (95)

132 Earth Girls are Easy (88) Geena Davis and Jeff Goldblum are so hot in this movie, no wonder they got married

133 Better Watch Out (16)

134 Drowning Mona (00) trying for something like the Coen bros and not getting there

135 Au Revoir Les Enfants (87)

136 *Chasing Amy (97) Affleck is the least alluring movie lead...ever? I also think I gave Joey Lauren Adams’ character short shrift in my memory of the movie. It’s not good, but she’s more complicated than I recalled.

137 Blackkklansman (18)

138 Being Frank (19)

139 Kiki’s Delivery Service (89)

140 Uncle Frank (20) why so many FRANKS

141 *National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation (89) watching with pals (virtually) made it so much more fun than the usual yearly watch!

142 Half Baked (98) another, more secret Toronto nostalgia pic - RC Harris water filtration plant as a prison!

143 We’re the Millers (13)

144 All is Bright (13)

145 Defending Your Life (91)

146 Christmas Chronicles (18) I maintain that most new xmas movies are terrible, particularly now that Netflix churns them out like eggnog every year.

147 Spiderman: Into the Spider-Verse (18)

148 Reindeer Games (00) what did I say about Affleck??!? WHAT DID I SAY

149 Palm Springs (20)

150 Happiest Season (20)

151 *Metropolitan (90) it’s definitely a Christmas movie

152 Black Christmas (74)

THEATRE:HOME - 2:150 (thanks pandemic)

I usually separate out docs and fiction, but I watched almost no documentaries this year (with the exception of Dick Johnston). Reality is real enough.

TV Series

01 - BoJack Horseman (final season) - Pretty damned poignant finish to the show, replete with actual consequences for our reformed bad boy protagonist (which is more than you can say for most antiheroes of Peak TV).

02 - *Hello Ladies - I enjoy the pure awkwardness of seeing Stephen Merchant try to perform being a Regular Person, but ultimately this show tips him too far towards a nasty, Ricky Gervais-lite sort of persona. Perhaps he was always best as a cameo appearance, or lip synching with wild eyes while Chrissy Teigen giggles?

03 - Olive Kittredge - a rough watch by times. I read the book as well, later in the year. Frances Mcdormand was the best, possibly the only, casting option for the flinty lead. One episode tips into thriller territory, which is a shock.

04 - *The Wire S3, S4, S5 - lockdown culture! It was interesting to rewatch this, then a few months later go through an enormous, culture-level reappraisal of cop-centred narratives.

05 - Forever - a Maya Rudolph/Fred Armisen joint that coasts on the charm of its leads. The premise is OK, but I wasn’t left wanting any more at the end.

06 - *Catastrophe - a rewatch when my partner decided he wanted to see it, too!

07 - Red Oak - resolutely “OK” steaming dramedy, relied heavily on some pretty obvious cues to get across its 1980s setting.

08 - Little Fires Everywhere - gulped this one down while in 14-day isolation, delicious! Every 90s suburban mom had that SUV, but not all of them had the requisite **secrets**

09 - The Great - fun historical comedy/drama! Costumes: lush. Actors: amusing. Race-blind casting: refreshing!

10 - The Crown S4 - this is the season everyone lost their everloving shit for, since it’s finally recent enough history that a fair chunk of the viewing audience is liable to recall it happening.

11 - Ted Lasso - we resisted this one for a while (thought I did enjoy the ad campaign for NBC sports (!!) that it was based on). My view is that its best point was the comfort that the men on the show have (or develop, throughout the season) with the acknowledgement and sharing of their own feelings. Masculinity redux.

12 - Moonbase 8 - Goodnatured in a way that makes you certain they will be crushed.

13 - The Good Lord Bird - Ethan Hawke is really aging into the character actor we always hoped he would be!

14 - Hollywood - frothy wish-fulfillment alternate history. I think the show would have been improved immeasurably by skipping the final episode.

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horansqueen · 5 years ago

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You & Me : chapter 12

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.9k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: i hope it sorta hit a bit? does it sting? it had to happen sorry! i cant wait to write the next chapter 😭

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : i didnt add the “never have i ever” suggestions that i used but THANK YOU if you sent some, i used a few! also, i had other requests and ideas from people and i may use them a bit later, in a future chapter. actually i know when ill use them lol youll see :)

Chapter 12 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

"Shit, I don't know what to wear!" I exclaimed to myself as i put clothes in front of me, standing next to to mirror. "Horrible."

I threw the shirt away, aiming for the bed but it fell next to it and I didn't even send it a glance as I took an other one.placing it on my chest and tilting my head at my reflection. I glanced up when I saw Louis walk by and stop immediately, holding himself on the door frame with a smirk.

"Put a skirt on." he let out, making me raise my eyebrows. "It'll be easier for him to fuck you against the wall."

My eyes got smaller and I reached out for my tissue box before throwing it his way. He moved right on time and it hit the wall in a thug, making him laugh.

"Don't be so violent!" he smirked, walking in my room and leaning on the wall. "I'm just saying out loud what you think about late at night, if you know what I mean."

I turned to him, opening my eyes wide and shaking my head. I couldn't believe Louis was talking about me masturbating to the thought of my ex boyfriend like it was nothing.

"Oh my god, shut up!" I let out with a chuckle. "You're so annoying!"

"Look, I woke up and he was getting out of your room." Louis pointed out. "He spent the night with you. In your bed. Wearing nothing but BOXERS!"

"We just slept." I argued with a shrug, trying not to show him that the thought of Niall almost naked in bed with me was actually doing something to me. "I was sick, remember?"

"Yea, you were 'sick'" he repeated, pronouncing the last word louder and adding fake quotation marks with his fingers.

"I was! A few of your sushis weren't good, Lou." I explained, throwing an other shirt away and grabbing a new pair of jeans. "You know it's true, I heard you vomit in the middle of the night, too."

"That's not the point." he explained, getting suddenly a lot more serious than he normally is. "Olivia, you should break up with Dylan." I stopped dead in my track and even stopped breathing. My heart, though, was beating extremely hard against my rib cage and it's all I could hear. "Did you even think about him recently? He's not here and you don't even seem to miss him, especially not when Niall is around."

I did think about Dylan, though, but I didn't talk about my thoughts, mostly because I felt fucking guilty about almost everything that came to my mind. I felt like shit towards my boyfriend but I didn't have the guts to tell him that I was getting closer and closer to Niall. I didn't know how to tell him that spending time with Niall had been some sort of relief in my life, that being able to be around Niall again was making me generally happier, that when I was near him, I felt more alive. There was no good way to tell that to the man you were about to marry, not without hurting him.

"I love Dylan and I miss him, you know that damn well, Louis." I argued, feeling tears coming to my eyes. "But Niall is... Niall is Niall. Niall is the love of my life."

Louis uncrossed his arms and walked closer as I closed my eyes. I didn't want to look at him. I didn't want to face reality at all. I wanted to spend time with Niall and pretend I would be able to resist him the next time he'd try to kiss me. I wanted to pretend that I was going totally okay with watching Niall and Heidi get married and have kids at some point in the future while i'd do the same with Dylan. I wanted to believe I didn't have to break an incredible man’s heart because of my own disgusting selfishness... that everything was fine and that what was happening between Niall and I was perfectly normal.

"I know he is." Louis said gently, placing his hands on my upper arms from behind. "I see you two interact and it's so obvious, Olivia. The way you two connect it's... it's probably terrifying for Dylan and Heidi, you know?"

I opened my eyes and sniffed before swallowing the lump in my throat. I was not going to cry. There was no fucking way I was going to cry now and ruin my make up. We didn't connect, and we wouldn't connect on that night, I was going to make sure of it.

"Don't worry, I'll be okay. I'll prove to you and everyone else that Niall and I are only friends, you'll see."

I was mostly trying to convince myself of that but I just reached out to my wardrobe and grabbed a skirt, like Louis had proposed. I was going to have fun tonight and nothing else.

"Liv, don't be like that."

I turned to Louis and shook my head slightly.

"I'm not losing Dylan, okay? I can't. Do you know what are the chances for me to find an other man like him? Kind, sweet, smart, funny and who truly loves me? I've risked my relationship enough, don't you think?"

"So last night, when Niall joined you in your bed, you didn't feel anything?" he asked a bit harshly, raising his eyebrows at me. "I saw him take care of you when you were puking your guts out, you know?"

"You don't base a romantic relationship on lust, Louis. You should know that." I shook my head, searching my drawers for a shirt. "Niall always took care of me, since we were kids. It's nothing new. And it means nothing."

Louis stayed there, motionless and quiet as I picked my clothes and when he realized I wouldn't look at him again, he sighed.

"We're leaving in 10 minutes." he turned around and walked to the door as I swallowed my tears again. "And Liv? I love you. I want what's best for you. My opinion is just that, an opinion but... I don't think you'll ever be happy if you're not with Niall. I don't think he'll ever be happy without you either."

---

The bar was crowded but we reached a quiet spot on the second floor, in the back of the room. Everyone was arrived and I couldn't stop glancing at Niall, who ended up sitting next to me. Now that he was close, all the bullshit I had told Louis earlier didn't seem so important anymore. Nothing ever seemed more important than Niall, and it was a problem.

Louis came back with a pitcher and sat on the other side of me with Eleanor while Harry, Liam and Julie sat on the other side of the table. I didn't know where Harry's girlfriend was, or if he even was with her anymore. We had told each other we would remain friends but things change and we drifted apart. I sighed low, a bit nostalgic of that friendship before we all started drinking. I was getting drunk and from the way Niall's eyes sparkled, I felt like he was getting there, too. Or maybe it was just that I was so drunk I was starting to imagine things.

I could feel the skin of his arm brush against mine and I cleared my throat, trying to stop thinking about it before turning around to send him a smile.

"So where's your girlfriend?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

"Oh she'll be here soon."

I didn't expect this answer and raised my eyebrows as my lips parted. I didn't want to see her, and it was not only because we didn't get along. Most of all, I didn't want to see her all over Niall the way she had been when they invited us for dinner. Why was I so ready to prove everyone that I was able to resist my ex boyfriend but as soon as he was near, I couldn't handle myself?

"Okay, let's play a game!" Liam said, tapping the table a few times with his palm. "Truth or Dare?"

"No no, 'never have I ever'!" Louis argued, making me raise my nose up in a grimace.

These games never ended well, at least most of the time, except that one time where I decided to just kiss Harry, but a few minutes later, Niall had kissed a girl too and that was not a good ending, at least not to me.

"Okay, I found questions online!" Eleanor let out with a chuckle. "If you've done it, you take a sip, and no one lies!"

"Yea, I'll call you out if I see one of you lie!" Louis agreed, making my heart skip a beat.

I was screwed.

"Never have I ever... drunk-dialed an ex!"

I held my breath and started nibbling on my bottom lip. So many times, I had wanted to call Niall when I was drunk but every time, Louis was there to snatch the phone out of my hands. I glanced when I saw Niall drink and I wondered who he had tried to call. I had never received a phone call or a text message from him after we broke up, so I knew it was not me, and somehow, it made me jealous. He missed an ex so much that he called her... did that mean he never really missed me?

"Never have I ever... stolen someone's food!"

"Louis! You drink!" I let out, my eyebrows raised. "You always eat all my fucking left-overs!"

"What? Nah."

"He does!" Eleanor agreed with me with a chuckle, hitting him gently with her elbow.

He groaned but finally took a long sip of his beer, making me smile more.

"Okay, never have I ever... called a partner the wrong name during sex!"

I chuckled but felt my heart jump in my chest when I noticed Niall taking a long sip of his drink. We all looked at him and started laughing and he simply shrugged.

"I was drunk, I didn't know the girl's name!" he argued, laughing too.

I let my eyes roam on his face, wondering who exactly was that girl and if she had been someone he had sex with after he left me but I didn't dare to ask.

"Never have I ever.... lied to a law enforcement officer."

I laughed when I saw Louis drink and Liam started laughing, his eyebrows raised.

"Wait what? What was the lie?" he asked curiously, leaning slightly against the table.

"He lied to get out of a ticket." I replied, rolling my eyes.

"Why? Because he was going too slow?"

Everyone started laughing and Louis grimaced before flipping Liam off, making everyone laugh even more. I leaned closer to Louis and kissed his cheek gently before he wiped my kiss vigorously from his skin.

"Traitor!" he whispered as I chuckled, blowing him an other kiss.

"Never have I ever... sent nudes."

Without thinking, my eyes found Harry immediately and his did too. We stared at each other for a few seconds before our lips curled. I grabbed my drink and took a sip as he did the same, just like Julie, Liam and Louis.

"Did you send nudes to your boyfriend or your ex boyfriend, Olivia?"

I sent a mean glance at Louis and he smirked, making me know he was getting back at me for the last question.

"One time, Harry, Niall and I played 'truth or dare' and Harry asked me if I had ever taken nudes. I guess we continued that conversation a bit later and.. shared.. selfies..."

Louis' eyes got bigger and he pressed his lips together, knowing he had made things a bit awkward but finding it funny anyway. I glanced at Niall, noticing he was staring at me, and finally cleared my throat, asking El for the next question.

"Never have I ever.... hooked up with someone of the same sex or gender."

My eyes once again found Harry. I knew we were pretty much the only one who didn't want to label ourselves around the table and I brought my drink closer to him. He smiled and clinked his glass against mine before we both took a sip.

"You guys have no idea what you're missing." he let out after swallowing, making us laugh.

"Oh my god, Liv, you're gonna love this one. Never have I ever had food poisoning."

I laughed and took a sip, pushing the side of my body against Louis'. He groaned and took a sip and when I turned around, I noticed Niall frowned. I moved closer, holding my breath to make sure I wouldn't smell his incredible scent, and smiled a bit.

"Last night, Louis got sick because of his sushis, too."

I saw an emotion pass on Niall's face and his lips finally curled before he chuckled. Was that relief? I nibbled on my bottom lip when I remembered what he had asked me in the middle of the night and the right corner of my lips raised. I didn't know why he didn't want me to be pregnant with Dylan's baby but I liked it.

"Never have I ever been the subject of a rumor that wasn’t true." Eleanor read with a big smile. "Oh god, I think we can all drink!"

We all laughed and ended up finishing our glasses, handing each other the pitchers to fill them back again. I almost choked on the sip I was taking when Heidi arrived and she quickly sat next to Niall, making something stir in my stomach. I closed my eyes tight when she kissed him and I felt Louis' hand on my arm.

"It's okay to be hurt, love." he whispered. "If it matters, she's got nothing on you. She's also doing that to get to you."

I breathed in and out slowly before opening my eyes again. I noticed Heidi looking at me and sending me a sly smile that really bothered me.

"I'll get shots!"

Harry left with Liam and the whole time they were gone, I played with my fingers nervously. I felt like the whole evening was ruined because of her but I couldn't let that get to me, right? As soon as the guys put the shots in the middle of the table, I grabbed one and swallowed it quickly, followed by Louis.

"Wait, guys! This is for the game!" Harry explained. "And it's a surprise, you don't know what you drink!"

That's when I noticed the huge amount of shots on the table and raised my eyebrows just as Eleanor read the next question.

"Never have I ever... caught someone masturbating."

I held my breath and my eyes got bigger. I didn't want to turn to Niall but it was stronger than me. He was already looking at me and he chuckled.

"One time, when I was 13, Liv caught me masturbating. She just walked in my room without knocking!"

I smiled and pressed my lips together but my smile faltered when I realized he had no idea that I had caught him masturbating last time I actually slept at his place. The sight of him jerking off flashed in my mind and I gripped my glass tighter until I heard his voice again.

"Oh and remember at the lodge?" he asked with a smirk. "I came back in the room the first day we got there and-”

"Nooo! Shut up!"

I moved closer to him, trying to press my hand over his mouth but he dodged me and ended up just holding my wrist as he finished his sentence.

"And I caught Olivia masturbating in the dark, in our room!"

"Oh my god I hate you." I groaned, leaning my forehead on the table as I heard laughter. "That was a secret!"

"Was it though?" Niall asked, his lips dangerously close to my ear.

I held my breath and waited a few seconds to look up, noticing Louis had given a shot to Niall and was now handing me one. I drank it quickly, turning the glass around and putting it on the table. Tequila, ouch.

"Never have I ever... tried anal sex."

Once again, I closed my eyes and groaned, bringing one of my hands on my face as Niall laughed next to me. I was really going to get drunk. I reached for two shots and handed one to Niall who just chuckled and drank it fast. I did it took and raised my nose up. Sambuca. I hated that.

"Wow, who the hell are you?" Louis asked, raising his eyebrows while looking at me. "Little wild thing. Can't believe you let him!"

It was not my first time trying anal but I decided not to mention it. The truth was, when I was dating Niall, I would have done anything for him. There was no limit, as long as he stayed with me and was happy, it was all that mattered to me. I suddenly felt the urge to kiss him and held my breath as I stared at him. My heart was hitting so hard against my rib cage I thought it was just going to escape. Literally. It was ridiculous. I was not ready to do anything for anyone anymore, except myself. That's how things should be.

"Never have I ever... hooked up with an ex’s friend."

Once again, I knew I had to drink. Not everyone in the room knew that I had slept with Louis and I thought maybe it would be better if I didn't drink at all but the worst would be if I hesitated. If I just drank, they could believe it was an other ex than Niall but if I didn't seem sure, they'd know I was not at ease and it would be suspicious. I rolled my eyes, realizing I was going a bit too far in my thoughts and just grabbed an other shot, swallowing it quickly. I felt Louis' hand squeeze my thigh and my lips curled slightly. He knew and it was enough for me.

"Never have I ever... tried to make an ex jealous."

I sighed and took an other shot, shaking my head.

"We need to find questions that won't force me to get so drunk I won't be able to walk in half an hour!" I argued with a chuckle, watching as Niall grabbed a shot too.

I was starting to hate this game, if only for the fact that all I did was drink and check if Niall would drink too and if he did, I'd just spend a few minutes wondering who it was about and what exactly it meant. I glanced at Heidi, thinking she should probably drink but didn't and I rolled my eyes.

I never really had tried to make Niall jealous but I had hoped for it. I was not getting married to make him regret leaving me, but when I noticed his reaction when he found out and stormed out of the cafe, I couldn't pretend it didn't do anything to me. It did. I liked it. It gave me hope. Hope for what? I was not sure.

"Never have I ever... second-guessed a relationship."

I was getting pissed at myself for letting all his simple gestures and actions get to me. I loved him, I loved him so fucking bad it was driving me insane, but there was no way I was going back to being the 'no-back-bone-and-fucking-blind' girl I used to be when we were dating. I didn't want that. I reached for a shot and placed it in front of Niall a bit roughly, spilling a few drops of what I believed was rum, or at least, it smelled like it.

"Do you need only one?"

Somehow, everyone stopped talking and although I should feel guilty, I really couldn't. I was past the tipsy stage and a few memories were coming back to my mind. I also didn't enjoy Heidi's presence and the way she was so close to him. Niall looked down and licked his lips, waiting a few seconds before drinking the shot and pushing the glass away. Eleanor cleared her throat and I just shook my head with a sigh.

"Uhm, never have I ever cheated on a partner."

I closed my eyes again but this time for a complete different reason. I thought about the first time Niall touched me. I could almost still feel his fingertips brush on my skin before he had pushed them inside me. I can't remember being this excited ever in my whole life. This time, I didn't have to say anything. Niall just reached out to grab a shot and swallowed it.

"Not on Liv, right?"

Niall turned to Louis and shook his head.

"No. With her." My eyes moved to Heidi's hand who gripped Niall's arm tighter sinking her nails in his skin. I couldn't help but think she did that when they fucked, too. "It was back when I was with Maya."

I noticed Harry was looking at me with a frown and I just shook my head slightly, answering his silent question. He nodded and his lips curled a bit as I answered his smile. No, I had no cheated on Harry. I wouldn't have done that, not even for Niall... right?

"It was... unplanned." Niall added, making me press my lips together.

The memory was so vivid, probably due to the alcohol and mixed with the proximity of Niall's body, that I had to get up and go to the bathroom. As I got up, I realized how drunk I was and tried to walk straight. I didn't like to show I was drunk and I was not sure why but when I got out of the bathroom, Louis was leaning against the wall, waiting for me.

"El and I are leaving, we've got a brunch in her family tomorrow morning, so I'll sleep at her place." he explained with a frown. "Are you okay? We can give you a ride home if you want."

"No, thank you." I shook my head. "I'll just take a cab."

"No, no cab by yourself. One of those fuckers will bring you home when you'll be ready. I'll make sure of it. And if anything happens, you call me."

I nodded and he pulled me into a hug, making me close my eyes. I wanted to tell him that I missed him, and that I missed having sex with him, but it was a lie. What I actually missed was to be close to someone, and I sort of felt like I was losing him, somehow. Soon, we were not going to live together anymore and I had no idea if I was okay with that.

"Sorry for that game, although it went better than you thought, right?"

I chuckled and pulled away before nodding. He sent me a wink and told me goodnight and I watched him leave before sighing and walking back to the table with difficulty. Liam and Julie were getting up too and I frowned, tilting my head when I got closer.

"Are you guys leaving too?"

"Yea, we're both a bit tired." Julie explained.

They said their goodbyes to everyone and I ended up sitting next to Harry and in front of Niall. I watched as Heidi talked in his ear with a smirk and I glanced down to watch her arm disappear, realizing she probably had her hand on his thigh, or even somewhere else. I looked away and swallowed at the intense feeling of jealousy invading me.

"Oh, Olivia, I know you'll be alone tonight, would you rather sleep home?"

I frowned at Heidi, a bit surprised about her proposition and licked my lips, trying to find a reason why she would actually want me to be with both of them at his place. To show me he belonged to her, perhaps? To keep on being all over him in front of me?

"No it's okay, she can come home." Harry just said, getting up and grabbing his phone. "I'm alone tonight, too."

"It's cool, Harry. She'll sleep at mine." Niall quickly replied, getting up to. "Plus, it's closer."

They looked at each other and Harry finally sighed before bending down and whispering to me.

"Are you okay with that?" I just nodded and he did the same. "Okay, darling."

Heidi drove us back home since she had barely drank and I noticed Niall kept glancing at me in the mirror but I didn't acknowledge him. I knew he was a bit mad at me for some of the things I had said and if I wanted to be honest, I really thought I was over all of that, but the thought of him breaking my heart and not being sure of the relationship we had made something burn inside me... I was not mad. I was still hurt. I probably always would be.

Niall let me borrow a pair of his sweatpants and a shirt and none of us really talked at all. We just went to bed and before I knew it, I was laying on my back, under the covers, in the dark, just staring at the ceiling. Normally, I would have a conversation with Niall until we'd both fall asleep but that night, it was impossible. He was going to cuddle her all night, and not me. The thought made me swallow hard and I tried to keep my tears in. I was intoxicated and just closing my eyes made me dizzy.

That's when I heard it. It made my heart jump so hard in my chest I was near throwing up. A moan. Just a low moan disturbing the silence of the night and then, an other one. I got up slowly, my heart beating harder, making my whole body throb and when I opened the door, I held my breath. I stepped out of the room and It was clear, now. A bunch of moans reached my ears and I leaned my back against the wall, shutting my eyes tight.

"Oh, fuck, Niall!"

I felt tears invade my eyes and I let myself slide on the wall until my ass hit the floor. I heard noise, like the annoying sounds of a mattress moving, and I brought my hand to my mouth, trying to keep in the sobs that wanted to escape. This is exactly why Heidi wanted me to sleep at their place but the one I really blamed was Niall. How could he do that to me? Wasn't breaking my heart once enough? What the hell was he thinking?

I was sitting down alone in the hall, now as sober as possible in these circumstances, listening to my ex boyfriend, the man I was in love with, having sex with his girlfriend. It was so pathetic I didn't even take the time to wipe the tears that fell on my cheeks, I just accepted my fate, motionless, like it was something I actually deserved. I tried to think about my boyfriend, filming a movie in an other country, but it couldn't distract me from the noises coming from his room. All these images of Heidi riding him as he touched her and told her how much he loved her invaded my brain and I felt suddenly nauseous. It made me realize one thing. It was not so much that they had sex, that really bothered me, although it did hurt me to some extent. What was really hard to accept was that he may have feelings for her, stronger feelings than he had for me. I also couldn't really believe he cared so little about me that he'd literally do it while I was in the same house, in the room literally next to mine.

I cried more, feeling like this moment would never fucking end. It's only when I heard his voice for the first time that something inside me seemed to click. He had groaned and I hated it. It was a low and simple grunt but it made me want to literally die on the spot. I don't know where I found the strength but I quickly got up, walked back to the guest room and grabbed my purse before rushing to the front door and stepping out of the house into the dark night. The door closed roughly behind me and I realized they may have heard. I quickly left and ran across the street, my shoes hitting the ground being the only sound around. It was only when I was totally out of breath that I decided to call a cab. I just wanted to erase that whole evening from my mind. I just wanted to erase all my feelings and be happy again but I couldn't lie to myself. The only time I was truly happy was when I was with Niall... and that was over. There was no hope left inside me.

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan story #niall horan writing #my fanfics #yam #i just want to write the next chapter tbqh #i just cant wait to write it!!!

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theewrites-tf2 · 5 years ago

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Mercenary’s Cooking-Ability Headcanons

Aka, it’s that time of year for domestic headcanons

Scout: Learned his cooking from his Ma! Knows how to do the basic dishes of cooking and baking… But honestly, preferred takeout or the microwave at the end of the day. Everything he makes is usually deep-fried, has waaaay too much salt, and is always just a tad burned at the corners. 7/10, for the love of God, stop putting in salt-!

Soldier: Fine dining, in HIS army?! HELL NO, his comrades can survive on nothing but the bare necessities! His cuisine consisted of decades-old canned food, booze, and a dive into the enemy teams trash bin. On the annual July holiday, he’ll drag out a grill and fire it up, but even then, most teammates decide to just order take out. -4/10, please get out of our trash can…

Pyro: Burnt toast!!! Sparkly-Jell-O! Cake for dinner! Someone has a MASSIVE sweet-tooth, and beware of cavities when it’s Pyro’s night to cook. Everything is chock-full of sugar, tastes a bit like liquid fuel, and be prepared to have upwards of a dozen cavities at your next dentist appointment. 6/10, the dentist bill says we owe WHAT

Engineer: Ma and Pa’s diners got NOTHING on this merc. Everything he makes gives off that classic southern/country flavor, baked,cooked or fried to perfection, and he often makes too much to have about 14 containers of leftovers for the days to come. 10/10, crap, now i’m hungry for biscuits and gravy…

Demoman: Depending on his sobriety, meals can go one of two ways. Either A: He trudges back from the grocery store with a 12-pack, or he spends upwards of 8-hours in the kitchen, humming a Celtic tune while he whisks up dishes that remind him of home. His cooking is actually decent, but some people on the team are a little unaccustomed to the ingredients he’s using and chose to whine and gag without ever taking a bite. 8/10, Scout, stop whining and just eat!

Heavy: During his literature studies in the motherland, Heavy took a culinary class to fill in his elective requirements. While he never had the opportunity to use this skill before, he decides to take his time refining this old skill, usually barricading the kitchen while he takes his sweet time without teammates trying to sneak in for questions, or attempted samples. He also wants to be able to call home when he needs advice or recipe-clarification without snickering from from a certain SOMEONE. 7/10, what, no sandviches?

Sniper: Sniper’s cooking consists of going out with a gun, dragging back some kind of game and tossing it on the grill. He’s not big on cuisine, mostly just eats out of necessity rather than taste. It’s simply for nourishment and energy, nothing more, really. 4/10, ‘Ewwww, it’s looking at me!’ ‘It’s DEAD, just eat it!’

Medic: Medic usually walks into the dining room with a smile, and a full tray of hot food. The only problem is that he brought this food from the lab, so absolutely no one touches it. The last time someone took a bite from his dishes, one grew a third eye, another’s tongue went numb for three months, and a third lost all their fingernails almost overnight. All the while, Medic simply sighed, clacked his tongue and wrote ‘unsuccessful’ on his clipboard. Medic tries to soften the blow of human-experimentation by bringing a plate of Berliner pastries, but is hurt and a bit insulted when everyone REFUSES them. Huh… more for him, than! 3/10, everyone check for new growing appendages.

Spy: Cooking for the team? Ha, no. He wouldn’t put that effort in for just anyone, let alone his co-workers, his cuisine is for the sophisticated crowd, and his talents should not be wasted on the likes of- ‘Urgh, Spy, why did you put so much SALT in this?!’ 7/10, Like father like so-? ‘LA FERME!’

#I'd trust Heavy to cook for me #and now I want biscuits and gravy #team fortress 2 #tf2 #tf2 scout #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 demoman #tf2 heavy #tf2 engineer #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 medic #cuisine #food #cooking #tf2 headcanon #tf2 imagines #here have some funny shit

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alolanrain · 4 years ago

Text

Cursed Object

(all true stories, just with characters swapped in for people)

It starts on July 3rd, 2007. Delia is inlisting all of Red’s friends, their parents, Ash, and the Oaks into helping clean out her garage and finally throw away junk from her late husband since he was a fucking Packrat. At this point she enlisted like half of pallet Town in the beginning. The sun was setting and they can finally see most of the garage flooring. Everyone was chugging drinks and eating several boxes of pizza Blue’s mom had ordered because no one was cooking that night. Everything was fine...

Until Red, at the ripe old age of 7, came ambling out of the garage with a large plastic bat that was a horrid Orange color.

“Mama?” Red yelled across the yard to his mom who was talking to Blue’s Grandma, easily getting Delia’s and half the people’s attention as well, “what’s this?” Raising the plastic bat into the setting rays it flashed an even brighter disgusting orange.

“I don’t know, sweetie.” Delia sighed before waving her eldest away. Eyeing Blue who was cooking over 4 year old Ash and Gary who was six months younger.

“That’s a Wiffleball bat, my boy.” Professor Oak scared the living daylights out of Red by landing a hand on his skinny shoulder. “Your father was great at baseball and Wiffleball was his first sport. He wanted to play with you and Ash when you two had gotten older but never found the time with his job.”

“Ah.” Red muttered lamely before ducking out of Oaks grip and trotting over to his friends. Green had his baby brother in his grip that was eyeing the bat. Red gave the bigger end to the boy, allowing him to feel the surprisingly soft playable plastic, and pulling it away soon after when he tried to put his mouth on it. Luckily he didn’t fuss, turning back to his teething ring instead while eyeing at Blue who still cradled Red’s own brother.

“You know,” Green started, that greedy look in his eyes shining brightly and caused a sinking feeling to form in Reds gut, “Wiffleball and baseball sound pretty lame and boring. I would be embarrassed if my dad made me play baseball.” He spat.

Next thing any adult knew Red had Instinctively swung the large plastic bat as hard has he could in his sitting position next to Green directly into the boys face. Causing Green to drop Gary and for both boys to start wailing. Gary because he bonked his face directly into the dry, hot summer ground, and Green because his nose was now bleeding.

“At least my mom didn’t leave me by choice.” He spat before making eye contact with Blue who looked at him with wide eyes and then at Ash who started tearing up from the yelling.

“Alfred Johnston Ketchum!” Delia screeched across the yard. Making everyone, who was in shock because passive, soft spoken, and loving Red had just down that, jump at the women’s sudden scream of rage.

Red immediately let go of the bat and immediately looked between Green, his hands, and then to his mom before repeating.

———

The next time the bat was taken out of the garage, and Delia had sworn to the police that she had torn the thing up in front of all the rest of adults after the kids were sent home, was next month. Red and Green made their truce yet again for the fifth time since the end of July.

They were playing some kind of ball game out in the back of Greens Grandpa’s lab. Gary and Ash were at some kind of baby appointment so the kids were put under Oaks watch... though he isn’t really doing a lot of kid sitting when he’s staring at the TV half dead basically from the heat.

Red had gone home, while Blue went to hers and Green went down to the Professors basement, to try and find a bat. When he got into his garage, sitting right in the middle of the concrete floor, was the Wiffleball bat. Shrugging he leaped down the two steps and scooped the bat up before charging, much to his mistake, across town and back to the Oak Labs. Both Blue and Green couldn’t find a better bat at their place so they used the one Red brought.

They only lasted an hour until the sun peaked at its hottest and the parents weren’t back yet either. Probably having lunch or grocery shopping since they are in Veridian.

“I’m hot!” Blue complained. Dragging her feet and pulling at her dress. Red chose not to comment at the pit stains that were growing where her dress was pressed between her armpits. “Can’t we go inside?”

“And listen to Grandpa snore the entire time?” Green asked, Shaking his head, “absolutely not. We can’t even change the channel or else he’ll get super mad when he wakes up.” A loud snore echoed from the open window into the living room and made all three kids flinch a little. Lousy old man. “Let’s just continue on playing.”

He tossed the ball to Blue, who had the orange bat that looked even worse out in the sun, who tried to swing it but was to slow.

“I’m tired!” She threw the bat down. Tears pricking her eyes as she continued to stomp her feet like it was supposed to intimidate Red and Green besides being annoying. ”tired, hot, and hungry!”

“Oh stop being a pansy!” Green snarled. Red could only nod his head and murmur and verbal agreement with Green.

“I’m not a pansy!” Blue shouted before stomping off and into the porch. Twirling around and sinking down onto a shaded step. Crossing her arms and pointing while glaring holes into Greens head.

Reds best friend turned to him and pointed behind his back at Blue, “girls are always so weak against guys, that’s why they stay at home and take care of the babies and chores while we men do the real work.”

Next thing Red knew Green had almost fallen into him. Blue standing behind him with the Wiffleball bat raised and an angry rabid look into her eyes. Before Red could do anything to try and placate both or just one of them. Blue descended upon Green.

Hit after hit, Blue didn’t stop. A look Red had only seen in one of those horror movies on the killers face on hers. His little feet carried him into the hose before nearly barreling into Grandpa Oak who started awake with a shout.

“It’s Blue and Green,” Red panted, “their fighting and Blues trying to draw blood.”

“Fucking Arceus-“ Oak struggles to get up from the rocking recliner.

“Grandpa! Make Blue stop!” Green shouted from the backyard. Pokémon from big to small had come out fo their hidy-holes to see what was happening.

“Make me yourself coward!” Blue shouted back before a particular loud Thwak! Was heard.

“Grandpa!”

“What happened to men being stronger then girls!? Where’s your logic now you wet-willy bug-sucker!”

That had ended with the parents rushing home, police called by a bitchy neighbor named Mr. Hickiby, and an ER lady stitching the side of Greens forehead in an ambulance that was also called because Mr. Hickiby had exaggerated every detail over the call.

All three were so grounded.

———

The Wiffleball bat popped up once more around 2010, August 18 to be exact. No one knew where Ash had gotten ahold of it since the three had set fire to the bat last year. but soon he was charging out of the front entry way with Houndoom hot on his heels, speedy little fucker Ash is, and came speeding past Red who was walking home and Berliner straight for Champion Lance who was walking a bit behind Red to enjoy the view of the country side of Kanto.

Lance has bugged Red to show him his home town, not like there’s a lot to see in little ol’Pallet Town besides fields and farms and more fields. Now that Red was an equal to Lance and also technically Lance’s boss since he’s apart of the aka to Elite Four he had wanted to get to know more fo the soft spoken boy.

The Champion wasn’t expecting him to have such a terror of a little brother.

Ash had planted his feet down and slid in the loose gravel. Sliding by and swinging the Wiffleball bat as much as he could into Lance’s groin. Making the much older man double down and the force swung little Ash aroudn to where the bag had hit Lance’s ass with the same amount of force. This causes Lance to sink to his knees with a high picked whine.

Soul the Houndoom, Red and Ash’s mother’s Pokémon, barreled into Ash and bit into the loose part of a shirt and continued to tug the little seven year old back to the house.

Red had yelled at Ash without any words before turning to Lance. Not knowing what to do. All the while trying to ignore Green and Blue who chased Ash and Soul out of the house and are fucking loosing it behind the two in the grass.

Ash shouted that he was in the right because the strange weirdly dressed man, who must be higher then a kite, looked like he was gonna mug Red. That had sent Green and Blue deeper into hysteria while Red tried not to let his anger get the best of him.

———

The bat didn’t make a resurface until December 12 of 2012. Ash was nine and Red was twelve. His ass had just gotten dragged down from Mount. Silver by Green, Blue, two kids named Gold and Crystal, and then his hidden affair brother named Silver a year ago and Red was having his first Christmas with his family after two years.

Red was sleeping off a cold and Ash had just coe charging into the living room. Livid and holding the same plastic orange bat from Green and Blues memory.

“What’cha got there bud?” Gold, a fucking year older then Ash himself, asked.

“Someone,” Ash was already nearly yelling as he glare sweeper through the room, thankfully Delia had left to go last minute Christmas shopping and left everyone to watch Ash, “destroyed my snowman with this!” He shock the bat in the air before letting it fa back down by his side, “and not the hole in its stomach is bright red!”

Blue scrambled up from her slouched position on the one person seat to look out the window at Ash’s actually destroyed and fake bloodied snowman with a large red hole in the middle and red flakes everywhere. “Well damn,” she muttered, “He’s right.”

“Well I know it’s no one in here.” Green didn’t look up from his phone. Texting Lance about his orientation of being Viridian’s new gym leader after Red had knocked that greasy Mankey Giovanni down.

The others muttered their agreement, which was a mistake, and Ash raised the bat to grip it with two hands and yelled “Red you big meanie! You killed my snowman!” And then went charging up the stairs to Reds room.

The other kids were left speechless and in shock before there was a familiar loud Thwak! Noise and then a angry shout before Ash’s scream of terror then the two brothers charging down the stairs.

Ash was only saved by certain death by the hands of Red because Red was only in a shirt and some shorts and also obviously still very sick.

———

It was September 30th, 2015, and Silver had gotten his hands on it this time around. No one really stopped him as he had pinned Gomd down and had beatened him over the head continuously for four minutes before throwing the Wiffleball bat down and storming into the house. Hiding himself in Ash’s unused room, who was in Orange Isles at the time, to scream wordlessly.

Red and Green just dipped their coffee while Blue stomped forward for her own piece.

#worlfy writes #ash ketchum #red ketchum #green oak #blue #silver #gold #professor oak #gary oak #wiffleball bat cursedTM #my brother played by Red #my cousin Brandon played by Green #my cousin Micky played by Blue #baby cousin Gavin thats actually younger then me played by Gary #Me-Ash #yes i did slam the Wiffleball bat as hard as i could into his face

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