#When typing out Elliot I wound up having to go do something else

[sandersimagination]

Wassup, ST here! You remember that information Sleep said we were gathering? Well I’m here to present it to you. Well, at least some of it. So here’s some general facts about those of us available for asks!

Sleep:

Lives off coffee

Poor child has horrible nightmares and refuses to sleep until he just crashes

The only way in which you could bribe him to sleep is with cuddles (They chase away the nightmares)

He is the epitome of clingy when sleeping

Ironically, or unironically depending how you look at it, he has the ability to knock someone out cold (putting them to sleep not punching them Anxiety, chill)

Hates Anxiety with a passion like nobody's business (None of us can figure out why though, asides from Emile but he refuses to share claiming “doctor, patient confidentiality”

Whenever there’s a concert you can bet your money that Sleep will be there, dragging Virgil along with him

You know that bag he has with him? Ya he never leaves it unattended and no one knows what’s in it.

Has photophobia (That’s why he has those glasses he never takes off) The cause has not been determined, although Emile thinks it might have something to do with Sleep’s glowing eyes.

Has no sense of direction

Says he’s going to the store, next thing you know he calling asking you to pick him up cause he’s somehow found his way to The Witches Tower (Which is all the way across Ro’s kingdom from the city)

He moves quietly, you could be sitting in the living room with nothing on (it’s so quiet you can hear a pin drop) and he’ll come through into the kitchen then back out the front door without you even knowing he was there.

If he doesn’t want to be found, he won’t be.

Emile Picani:

Is a psychologist

Meaning he’ll do more than just relationship therapy

He’s not a medical doctor, there the Surgeon for medical emergencies

He’s taken to studying somethings in terms of magic for anyone of Ro’s kingdom (and Sleep) who might need assistance

Loves childrens shows.

He finds small messages or characters to relate back to his patients

Tends to be the one to aid Sleep in his adventures

This is because he doesn’t really have any other patients at the moment aside from the steven universe team

And won’t until there’s another episode of Cartoon therapy being produced

This also doesn’t mean they all have continual issues, asides from poor Elliot, it more means that they go there to talk with PIcani about things not necessarily relationship wise

When exploring the town with Sleep you better bet that he carries around the cheeseburger backpack

He also makes sure to get them both donuts at some point while exploring

Has a sweet tooth

Can’t consume coffee cause it makes him jittery and he can’t focus well

Missy (Misleading Compliments):

He’s the Thomas from the misleading compliments vines

Sweetest bean

Look like as cinnamon roll and is one but he can still kill you

Mess with his friends and they’ll never find your body

… this time it’s not a compliment

Really flirtatious, but knows when to stop or tone it down

Sometimes he’s a flirt without meaning to, but it’s just in his nature

Might accidentally say an innuendo without meaning to most of the time

Is also a gentleman

Will open a door for you and refuse to let you pay for dinner, even if he just met you

Anytimes Deceit comes around he can be easily influenced by the false compliments

When Virge reveals however who Deceit actually is (He lied about his identity the first meeting) Missy is the first one to deck him in the face next time he shows up

Will fite you behind Dennys if you try to talk bad about yourself

Pranks (Pranks with Friends):

He’s the Thomas from the Pranks with friends series

Avid lover of Pokemon and his love of Disney can rival Roman’s

April fools is his favorite holiday

He makes sure that any pranks he pulls are harmless

Of course this doesn’t mean that there haven’t been a few that have caused some issues

One of his pranks went horribly wrong and he’s avoided the mention of it since

The largest goofball/dork you will ever meet

Of the trio he’s the most innocent

Deceit gets the brunt of any/all of his pranks

Wears hoodies 24/7/365

As soon as Pokemon Go came out he’s been all over it

He made ST and Missy play as well. Of course they had to all choose different teams

Pranks:Instinct. Missy:Mystic. ST: Valor

Hurt his friends and he’ll pull the most harmless, yet annoying pranks to get back at you.

As a warning. After that it’ll get physical

ST (Narrating your lives):

ST (Short for Story Time) is the Thomas from the Narrating Your Lives vines

Will also respond to Narrator

He’s an Extra™ boi

If you can’t find him with the other two then head to Ro’s village,he’ll be there directing and writing plays with Roman.

If this was a human AU or they had actual history as kids in school then he definitely would have been the one to be bullied.

When narrating people’s lives he has been punched before

If we’re playing the who’s most innocent with the trio, then he’d be the least

Aims to add puns in where ever he sees fit

Or if he comes up with one

Missy normally winds up beating him to it though

Kind of impulsive

Brain:

Impulse control? Who’s she? Never heard of her.

Intrusive thoughts are powerful in this one yes.

If your friend jumped off the bridge would you?

The answer yes, by the way

Also the little shite actually ate a tide pod

The only reason he’s not dead is cause he’s a figment of Thomas’s imagination

He did become terribly ill though

Now they have to be locked up on a high shelf

That has not stopped him from summoning more unfortunately

Within the short amount of time Anxiety has been around he’s become Brain’s babysitter

He can be mature and reasonable when he wants to

For some reason that goes just as horribly

Duet (Drive-by-Duets):

The Thomas from the Drive-by-Duet vines

He randomly breaks into song

He's a precious bean

Encourages everyone planning on trying out acting or some music based career

He's also can be found with Roman and ST in the village

He is an less Extra™ boi but he is still extra

Can play literally any instrument

Dorky gentleman

Where Missy is smooth Duet trips over his own feet trying to pull out your seat for you

He is also clumsy when not trying to be smooth

He is not allowed into the kitchen unsupervised

Can sing like an angel but can't dance to save his life

Elliot:

Smol bean

Must be protected (Sleep’s words not mine)

Listens to “emo” music (Like MCR, Evanessense, Set it Off, to name a few)

He loves his boyfriend, he really does and he swears Michael loves him too (Sleep would beg to differ, but doesn’t try arguing)

When Sleep and Virgil go off to concerts they always makes sure lend the invitation to Elliot

While he doesn’t always accept the offer, he does appreciate the thought.

They haven’t really felt like sharing much so this all there is currently

Corne:

Sloane and Corbin, precious beans

Sleep claims that Sloane is more dangerous than he seems

Sleep also claims that Corbin has not much of and idea what he got himself into by dating Sloane

He refuses to say why he thinks this way

Sloane takes life as it comes and doesn’t let bad things deter him.

Corbin’s a bit more of a prepare for the worst and hope for the best

Aaannnd Corbin refused to let us ask anymore questions after that so that’s all for now.

Dorry:

Larry and Dot are rebellious teen adults.

Dot doesn’t know her own strength sometimes

They pick on each other occasionally, but it’s all in good fun.

Larry tries too hard occasionally to be… hip? Would that be the word to use??

Dot’s one of those teachers that’s awesome as a person, but aggravating as a teacher

Anything else was found by Emile, who keeps claiming doctor patient confidentiality

Vitani (The Dragonwitch):

Despite what was mentioned before about Roman’s characters being the least aware, she’s actually as aware as Sleep and us.

She’s dubbed herself Vitani because it’s easier than always calling her dragonwitch.

Don’t  tell Roman though

The head witch and alpha dragon

She’s got her work cut out for her.

Can shapeshift like the sides, through the use of her magic.

Her magic color is green cause Every Villain Is Lime

She’d much prefer a shade of Red-violet but it can’t be helped now

Is very Sassy™

Can and will shapeshift into a dragon at will

Can be found hanging out with Virgil is some of her spare time

This you also don’t tell Roman

Not just for her sake but for Virgil’s as well

On that note don’t mention it to the others that Virgil comes here period

Steer clear when she and Roman are in the midst of battle

Virgil:

Anxious boyo

He’s not kidding don’t tell the others he’s here doing this

Favorite band is Evanescence 

Is normally here either to talk with Vitani or go to a concert with Sleep

Virgil is normally the one Sleep ends up cuddling in his sleep

Virgil allows it because it has mutual benefits

Sleep will, well, sleep and Virgil can rest easier

No one is too sure what he and Vitani do when they’re hanging out

Any questions about the others? Just ask us and we’ll see if we can answer.

[pheonixfire4015]

Peace in the Midst of the Storm By Eowyn38

Note: I have not written in a very long time and I didn’t have time to have someone review any mistakes. Its not my best, I am tired, so please forgive any kinks I didn’t work out. I couldn’t focus on homework so instead I wrote this. These people are fictional but often times a person will see similarities in character or circumstances with their real life that makes the fictional real. Having Elliot back has given me something to look forward to every week again. At the end of the day I just want these two to find some peace. We always get to see the trauma that does happen, but we have yet to get resolution in how an individual even begins to unravel pain and trauma. I wrote this because I guess it’s what I hope a real conversation will be between Elliot and Olivia on their journey towards healing. Its a start in the right direction, as they both have been dealing with pain and trauma in the same way. Surviving trauma is easier than dealing with the devastation it leaves in its wake. I know that based on my own trauma. Hope you enjoy.

Elliot and Olivia Reunion Post Episodes:

Rated: PG

Its 3:35 on a Friday night. Olivia is staring at the white speckled ceiling as it changes shape and color before her eyes the longer she stares. The emotions and thoughts leaving her unable to do anything else but lay there still. No amount of thinking or feeling ever seems to lead to any resolution or relief.  There comes a point in life where the pain and emotions become too much and the human brain in its defense turns everything else to a numb gray haze just to continue to function and cope. It took years perfecting and working to keep her emotions in appropriate tightly locked boxes. For the job, for her mother, for the people who depend on her. Elliot was her partner and best friend, but somewhere down the line he became, well, everything. There was this sense of shame felt every time she allowed a trickle of vulnerability, need, love and longing to spill over. Elliot and all he meant was something she had wrestled with for longer than she can even recall anymore. She often would spend time thinking when and where it all began to unravel. Learning to live with the gaping hole his presence had left, comparing every man to his shadow had become an everyday battle. With each traumatic situation the desperate desire to see him come through the door to save and protect yet again was something she wished she could crush completely. But she had learned to live with it. Having him back, hearing his voice, holding him…. Had become a dream and a nightmare Liv was not prepared to deal with. Seeing him had been like a magnet snapping back to where it’s supposed to be, It was like feeling apart of herself breathe again, a part of herself she forced to become dorment.

Olivia rubbed her hands over her face to ease the dry ache of her eyes and turned on her side while letting out a sigh, longing for some relief from the weight of it all. The range of emotions she didn’t want to feel came in waves, all she wanted was to sleep to escape, but with each wave it left unending hopelessness in its wake as to how to navigate it all, wanting at times to sink into a numb haze instead. She spent her whole existence learning to live with these types of emotions. Seeing the look in her mother’s eyes knowing she was the product of rape. As one of very few females on the job seeing the male cops look at her with distrust and disrespect- having to constantly prove your worth. Coming home to an empty void of a home all thoughts of motherhood and family and connection a far-away dream. Trauma from the job, by this time... well... she had simply stopped counting the numbers of wounds left. Noah… had become the one touchstone, the one rock she could pour herself into. The one truly good thing in her life.

Elliot’s words rang in her head bringing with them questions she didn’t want to ask. He was in an emotional war desperately grasping onto any lifeline and madly pushing away at the same time. She knew and understood the signs.  Watching him navigate this made her flip flop from anger, to frustration, to desperation, to love, to guilt, and then sinking into numbness. While in the same breath realizing the irony in it all. She too was drowning and unsure how to navigate her way out. His letter was clear, there was something he needed to share but in the right moment. What could he share she didn’t know, or did she know? Could she trust him... his emotions, his words? Could she trust he would not push her away, walk away yet again, leaving her with less than she had before?

“I love you…. You mean the world to me….”

Rang over and over, threatening to undo the delicate balance she had created to manage the daily raging war of emotions and thoughts. She kept telling herself all the rationale reasons to keep the inappropriate emotions at bay. Inappropriate was the only word that could summarize the emotions she had shoved to the deepest part of herself, what other word was there for these emotions, for falling in love? ��Elliot was her partner, a man who had been married, had a family, a wife who just recently died, a woman Liv loved and respected. She repeated the words over and over willing her rationale mind to win over irrational emotions. Elliot had called 4 times today. She should answer, she should call him, she should talk over what he found in Kathy’s investigation, but she feared if she did the delicate balance she was struggling to hold together would collapse. Was she really that close to the edge, all because of one person?

Knock… knock…

She turned her head to the noise she heard in the other room. Again… Knock…. After determining it was not the neighbors, Noah, or an intruder…  she collapsed into her pillow with a sigh…. Elliot. It took all she had left to walk to the door knowing who she would see on the other end of the peep hole. There he stood, head down, dejected, tired…. With a sigh, she batten-down the hatches within and opened the door.

“Elliot… its 3am…”

“I know…” he shook his head… she could see the motors working in his mind… but the words just fell flat to silence. For a few moments their eyes just did the talking and the communicating.

With a sign she stepped aside and let him in. She pointed to Noah’s room letting Elliot know they needed to remain quiet.  He nodded wordlessly. She stood watching as he paced… back and forth… back and forth… restless, rubbing his hands over his face and head. Olivia closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and walked over, placing a hand on his forearm, blocking his restless movements.

“Elliot… sit… please.”

He looked at her with wild red eyes, hooded in darkness. He nodded. Liv sat on the couch. He sat on the edge of a chair on the other side of the room. His leg moving uncontrollably. For an uncomfortable amount of time there was just silence.

“Look… I know the last thing you want right now is me here. I feel like I keep saying I am sorry, like they are these empty words that don’t mean anything anymore. I keep letting all of you down. I also know you have your own battles Olivia” Elliot’s leg stops moving for a moment as she watched him try to find the words to articulate, trying to detangle the balled-up twine of emotions. She allowed the silence to stretch, allowing him the space and time. 

“I don’t know what to do with all of this Liv, and I don’t even know where to start unpacking this. I keep wanting to do what I have always done, what has always worked.”

At that she spoke�� “Has it worked Elliot?” Her voice has a twinge of hardness she didn’t intend, or had she? Maybe the anger she felt was not just his struggle but her own inability to fix herself. 

Again, silence stretched.

He signed deeply…. “No… It hasn’t worked, but it’s what has been easier to manage to prevent from becoming a burden to all of you.”

She spoke again… “Have you managed it, has it been easier for everyone else around you to manage?”

With that she watched his face drop… confused and deflated. His head fell. His leg resumed their restless bounce. 

In that moment she regretted her questions and tone knowing her own struggled had tainted her emotions. She prepared for him to spring up red faced and leave.

“Well, I guess if I was better at this, I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

Olivia shook her head… “Look Elliot, I am sorry. I don’t want to fight with you. I am exhausted. I am here if you need to talk. But you are pushing me away, your kids away, and right now more than anything they need you and you need them. You’re not the only one going through this... this hell.”

Elliot’s hands came up again, rugging his face, wishing… wishing this was easier.  

“You’re right. I don’t know what that means or what I am going to do… but you’re right.”

At this Liv’s face and body poster changed, relaxed. Some things had changed, evolved. 

“You read the letter?”

Liv shook her head… “Elliot, we don’t have to do this right now. There’s….Its not the right…” But the words were just lost.

“Look Liv, your right. The timing is off. It’s always been off. But I think it’s the only way we can move forward. You’re right, I need to make amends with my kids, to Kathy, but if I am to move on from all of this I need to make amends to you as well.”

At that Liv had no arguments left, 3 am or not, right time or not.

“I don’t even know how to start this….. You know the job is the job. It comes with its battles. Talking over things that we saw with Kathy was just never anything I ever considered. I did my job and I came home and dealt with it. I don’t know when it happened but a time came where I just wasn’t... managing anymore. All I wanted was solitude. Over time the connection I had with you Liv, what we went through, was unlike any relationship I had had before.”

Liv shook her head, understanding without needing anything more…

“Let’s face it, it was me shutting down and the repercussions, that caused me to lose my family the first time and I almost lost you. And it’s the same mistake I am making now…”

There was silent reflection for a good minute before he continued.

“When Kathy and I divorced. I failed in my marriage, I failed in caring for my kids who were a wreck, and I was unraveling. My feelings… for you…”

Elliot shook his head, unsure how to fully articulate.

“They went deeper than I really know how to express. I felt it was a weakness. You took up so much of my thoughts, so much of my world. The worry, the care, the guilt, wanting better for you…. I felt I was losing my ability to do the one thing I was good at and that was the job and having your back. I resented you for emotions I didn’t know what to do with. Those feelings then changed into something more, into something different…”

Elliot looked up, to scan Olivia’s brown eyes. She shook her head… the depth of her knowing exactly what he meant… while her brain remained a blank mess.

“Ok…. I loved you Liv. I fell... in love with you.” With that said Elliots heard dropped. “There was a part of me that wanted to reach out, wanted to be honest with you because I felt this shift. I felt like the same battle I was fighting; you were also fighting.”

He paused, letting the heaviness of that sink in. He watched as tears began to brim in those eyes he knew so well. His restlessness ceased, and with a new determination he stood. He sat down gingerly in front of her on the coffee table.

“I knew the implications if we were honest with each other, and all the risks we would be taking. The thought of losing you. I was drowning, as I am now, and I went back to what was comfortable. What was easier. Kathy got pregnant. I knew in that moment what I had done was unfair to her and unfair to you. It was selfish. I went back to my family, but it didn’t stop what I was feeling… from getting harder, harder to compartmentalize, harder to ignore.”  

The tears that had been pooling finally spilled in a steady stream onto Liv’s cheek. In an involuntary response he reached out, and stroked it away. Liv’s eyes widened. He pulled his hand away and lay them back in his lap, looking down at the damp of her tears on the tips of his fingers.

“The job had worn me down, I was scared of ruining… everything Liv… if I stayed. What type of man had I become? I knew there would be a time I would no longer be able to be who I should be to my wife and be who I wanted to be…. For you. So, instead of being honest, I was a coward Liv, I walked away. I justified in my head, I felt if I left it would give you the ability to move on and give me the ability to devote myself fully to my family…. And give me the time to work on becoming a better man, a better dad, a better husband.”

He ranched across the short divide to grab her hand, which were balled tightly together in her lap. She looked down at his outstretched hand, a peace offering. She undid her hands that had become white from the pressure, and rest her own in his. They were ice cold. For a moment they just looked down, at the connection between them. He began gently rubbing the life back into her cold hands. 

Without looking up she said, “If you had been honest with me, even if I told you I felt the same, I would have never allowed you to, I would never expect….”

Liv's head shook adamantly but not knowing how else to articulate her thoughts. 

He looked up, “I know Liv. Unfortunately, I can’t say...” Elliots head hung unsure if he should say what he really felt...”I can't say I would have been strong enough to be that honorable. I knew seeing you, hearing your voice, would knock down any resolve I had left….”

She looked up, realization rolling over her in waves. He loved her, she had not been alone in her slow descending battle of emotions. She shook her head, tears falling this time without stopping. All she had done to survive, all the emotions and battles, all the coping mechanisms, they were being undone.

“Funny thing is, I went to the other side of the world. And The first thing I thought of when I woke up and the last thing I thought about when I went to bed…. Was you. I loved my wife Liv please hear that, but I also loved you. Both of those loves were so vastly different.”

With that Liv groaned and the tears came stronger, she grasped tightly to his hand. Something in her that felt lost and abandoned desperately needed to hear… every… word… of this.

“Should I reach out, how would you react, had I destroyed everything, If I called would I cave and come home, what if you had been able to move on and I ruined that delicate balance? So, days just turned into years. But…. When I saw you that night Liv. I felt like a missing part of myself was found again. With all of this…. Seeing you again… Losing Kathy… I just don’t know what to do with…” He motioned with his hands… “all of this.”

With that silence filled the room once again. Liv had nothing… no words… nothing to give. His words hurt, they healed, they explained, they gave hope, they were the end of one journey and the beginning of a new one. They sat there, both hands now intertwined in her lap. She lifted his hand to her face, nuzzling into their warmth, and looked deeply into his eyes. She planted a small kiss to the inside of his palm. It’s all she had to give in that moment. He moved closer and stoked her cheek, trying to wipe dry every tear he may have caused, and shook his head. He understood. She had forgotten how easy it could be between them, this silent communication.

“Look, this is a lot.. too much… I don’t know how long this is going to take. I don’t know if I have ruined this. I just hope…. We can maybe start over, start clean. I’d love to get to know Noah. I’d love to get my best friend back. I just need… time.”

In that moment Liv felt lighter than she had in a long time, she shook her ahead again wordlessly.

Elliot’s hand dropped back down to her lap… “Can I stay?” She looked at him unsure. “I’m just… so tired Liv… so tired…” Without hesitation Liv moved over and Elliot crossed to sit on the couch next to her. He laid down allowing his head to rest in her lap. He let out a sigh he didn’t even realize he had been holding. Her arms came up around him, cradling his head.

“You have my word I’ll be gone before Noah wakes up.” She stared down at him, smiling, grateful for his understanding even in her need to protect her son, stroking the hair behind his neck.

“Thank you, now rest.”

In minutes, his beathing became long and even. His body relaxed and the restlessness ceased, the waging war stilled if only for a little while. She looked down taking in words she never thought she would hear. At some point she would have to unpack them, figure out what they meant, but for now, this was enough. They both had a long way to go and a lot of work to do. She leaned her head back to rest on the cushion of the couch, staring again at the white speckled ceiling, looking with new eyes, and soon sleep took over. In the eye of the storm, Silent, peaceful, still.

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

What a Time to be Alive - Diego x reader

Chapter 4- The Majestic 12

Summary: Although, your wounds are able to heal instantaneously, Diego’s are not and for that he payed the price. In the aftermath of getting shanked, you give Diego some much needed TLC. Now you, Diego, and Five, are on the hunt at some gala for any valuable information, regarding the activities of Sir Reginald Hargreeves.

If you want tagged just hit me up. Tagged: @white-wolf-buckaroo @fandomoverlord221 @la-vie-en-amour1​ @2cuteforyourlies​ @thatfandombitcch

Sitting next to Diego on the couch, you rip off his bandage, intently listening to Five ramble on about the Vanya situation as you attend to his healing injury.

“So what you just let her go.” Asks Diego surprised.

“Well, Vanya had a lot to process.” He says matter-of-factly. “She’ll come around. I know she will.”

“What about the guys that went after her?” You ask him, while ripping off some medical tape for Diego’s new bandage.

“The Swedes?”

“Yeah, how do you know they won’t go after her again?” You question, taking a cup of hot coffee from Elliot.

“We don’t.”

“Do you have any idea who sent them?” Lila asks Five, taking a sip of coffee from her own cup.

With a knowing smile, Five answers her, “Oh, I have my suspicions.” You guessing it probably has to do with Five’s colorful background coming back to bite him. “But right now, our priority is finding Dad and getting answers, cause everything else depends on it.”

“Which for the record, I found him already.” Diego adds, you hold in a chuckle at how well that interaction went.

“And then let him go before we could have a meaningful conversation.” Sasses Five with that stupid I-know-more-then-you smirk.

“He stabbed me.” Says Diego bluntly, trying to make a point as to why things didn’t go well.

“I’m surprised he waited this long, Diego. We’ve all had the urge.” Jabs Five yet again. Causing you to snort and start laughing out loud along with Lila and Elliot. Getting an offended look from Diego, you turn you face to give him a kiss on his cheek in an attempt at lessening his hurt pride.

“Good thing I know where Dad’s gonna be tonight.” Five says, handing Diego a piece of folded paper.

Reaching across the small coffee table to grab it, he sits down next to you again, holding up the parchment for you to both read. Leaning in, you look at its contents, as Five continues to talk. “Found it at his office while he was busy stabbing you.” Five says sarcastically, as Diego fake laughs.

“Hoyt Hillenkoetter and the Consultant General of Mexico in Dallas cordially invite you to a gala.” Diego reads.

“Whoa, wait. Hoyt Hillenkoetter? Are you serious?” Questions Elliot, apparently knowing something none of you four do.

“You know him?” You ask curious.

“We should go, says there’s gonna be a seafood tower.” Lila adds randomly, having looked it over before, when Five wasn’t looking. You nod to her, looking at Diego. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a suite.” You wink, earning a warm smile from him.

“No, Hillenkoetter is...is one of the Majestic Twelve.” Elliot says slightly nervously.

“The hell are the Majestic Twelve?” Questions Diego. As you quickly throw an orange slice in his mouth.

“It’s a...a secret committee. Uh, scientists, militarily, uh, deep state.” Rambles Elliot, walking over to his desk looking for something he continues. “No one really knows what they do.”

Scoffing you add, “Huh, they sound like a blast.”

“Wait, so they’re government?” Diego grunts, trying to sit up better.

“Shadow Government. Yeah, Kennedy was the first President to try to push ‘em into the light, but these guys are not to be trifled with. Oh, here we go. Ah, right here.” Elliot says bringing a photograph over to the four of you. “That’s Hoyt right there.” He points.

Examining the picture you notice only 11 men. “Weird there’s only 11 of them.”

“Well, that’s because they’ve only identified 11 so far.” Adds Elliot.

“Who’s the twelfth?” Diego asks looking at the photograph. You look to Five, raising your eyebrow in that you-thinking-what-I’m-thinking mutual understanding, him doing the same. Oh boy, here we go.

——

Arriving at the gala dressed in your best attire, a slightly uncomfortable dark blue dress and flats. You, Diego, Five, and Lila, hide behind a short brick wall type structure. Each of you peaking your heads over the edge to get a better view of the place full of richly dressed people. Quickly Diego climbs up and over the stones, you three following suit and crouching close to the nearby parked cars.

“So, what’s the plan guys?” Asks Lila quietly.

“Don’t answer that.” You warn Diego. Who ignores you, trying to be the smart tough guy once again. “We infiltrate, we identify, we extract. Double time.” 

“I feel like I’m in a spy movie.” You whisper to yourself.

“What the hell’s he talking about.” Lila asks from behind you turning her question to Five, who’s crouched at the rear of the pack.

“Find the old man and get out fast.” He says smartly.

“That’s what I said.” Diego looks back at them, like what he said before wasn’t obvious enough.

“Alright 007, lets go.” You say, touching is shoulder and pushing ever so slightly for emphasis. Turning forward he crouch walks to the next car, you trailing him. Suddenly your ears catch the conversation between Lila and Five a couple cars over. You raise your eyebrow at Five’s untrustworthiness towards Lila, amused by their little conversation. Now that you think about it, you have assumed some odd shit could be up with her, but you’ve been playing along this whole time. Not wanting to state the obvious yet, you needed more time and suspicious proof first of any false behavior.

——

Walking into the wealthy looking establishment, you take a drink off a waiters tray. Giving it a sniff, before taking a small sip enjoying the fizzy liquid sliding down your throat. “I don’t see Dad anywhere.” Diego says, looking around the room full of wealthy strangers.

“Just keep an eye out for the Majestic Twelve. I got the upstairs.” Five tells you three, alcoholic beverage already in hand. “Diego, try not to do anything stupid. Y/N, watch him.” He adds, walking away. As Lila walks off towards the seafood table.

You sniff the air, trying to catch a familiar scent, maybe if old Reggie really is here, you’d be able to smell his stupid suffocating cologne. A second later trumpets start to play to a well known tune. You suddenly feel the urge to dance, excited now that your old dance partner’s back. Walking through the crowd while pulling on Diego’s tie, you lead him to the dance floor.

Diego pulls you to him, trying to gain control of the situation unfolding before is very eyes. The two of you are almost eye to eye with each other, as you hold onto one another closely. As the mariachi band continues to play, Diego twists you around, your back now to him. He lets his hands trail down your sides without so much as single protest from you, you’re enjoying this way to much. You twirl grabbing his hands before he can go any lower. Your hands wander up to rest on his shoulders, his comfortably caressing your lower back. “Someone’s got moves.” You look up at him stating the obvious.

“Well the old man did insist on making us take those ballroom dancing lessons.” He looks at you lovingly before continuing, now mimicking Sir Reginald’s voice. “One never knows when the paso doble will be the difference between life and death...” “children” You both smile, saying the last part together as Diego dips you.

“My turn.” You say while giving him a mischievous grin. Pulling yourself up with Diego still holding you close, you take the lead. Surprising him in the process, much to your amusement.

“What are you doing?” He asks, taken aback at your sudden dominance.

“Just follow my lead.” You saying smiling sweetly at him.

“Uh, Y/N, no. I’m the man here.” Diego says dazed by the abrupt change in the dance positioning, you smirk at him, thoroughly enjoying how you’ve taken him off guard.

Grabbing his hands you smoothly twist him around so his back is now to you. Using your left hand you touch his cheek, hastily bringing his undivided attention straight to your own beaming face. Quickly giving him a kiss before pushing his face away once more, twirling him around, and positioning yourself back to how you two first began. With his right hand on your hip and your left on his shoulder, you two holding hands and swaying to the music. He pulls you in closer to his chest, your faces inches apart as you turn your head to laugh into his broad shoulder. You can feel him kiss the side of your face as he smoothly sways you to the music, he follows your gaze as you adjust yourself to look up into his chocolate eyes.

“You have no idea how glad I am to have found you again.” He gives you another chaste kiss in reply.

“Sorry you had to wait for my ass for so long, if I would have known you were in Dallas.” You let out a small laugh, biting your lip to hold in a smile as he continues to sway you around to the festive music.

“Instead you got yourself arrested within the first day of being here. I don’t know if I should be impressed or not....Diego Hargreeves you are truly...something.” His face breaks out into an embarrassed smile as he leans his head down onto your shoulder to hide his redness, only you would be able to make him lose his cool, and so easily at that. He picks his head up once again to stare adoringly into you bright eyes, his eyes flickering down to your parted lips for a fraction of a second. Your face breaks out into a Cheshire Cat-like grin at the absolute wonderful cuteness of Diego. 

“So how’d I do last night? Since you know, it’s been awhile for you. I think I still got it Y/N.” He says with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, you roll your eyes at his implication of last nights love-making, he’s so bold.

“Satisfactory.”

“Just satisfactory? Babe I think I was really doing a great job. You sure looked like you agreed at the time.”

“Okay fine. You were incredibly stunningly marvelous, a perfect 10 out of 10. The review says she would do it again.” He smiles in deep satisfaction at your praising of his more intimate talents. You just give him a slight half annoyed eye roll, only you two would be scoring each other on how well your I-missed-you sex was.

When you look up at his face again, he isn’t smiling anymore, attention now snagged by some shinier fish. You twist your neck right, following his distracted gaze. “It can’t be.” He whispers in disbelief, breaking away from you to go see... Grace. Letting him go, you silently follow him, hiding behind a white pillar as you eves drop onto their conversation. Holy shit, Grace was a real person and she was Sir Reginald’s frickin date, you thought to yourself almost as shocked as Diego probably is. You listen more intently, and cackle at the comment Grace gives Diego about being a little odd. You’re definitely not wrong about that, you’d like to tell her.

Watching Grace walk past you and towards who knows where, you come out from behind the pillar to face Diego, who’s standing there with his arms folded, looking rather lost. “Well that went swimmingly.” You quip.

Diego breaks from his thoughtful trance, rolling his eyes as he walks on over to you, taking your bent arm in his. “I guess we should probably find Lila, huh.” He adds. “Perhaps we shall.” You say in a posh English accent, giving him a wink as he lets out a breathy laugh at your theatrics.

——

Leaning against the wall, watching as the other party-goers make boring conversation with each other. You push yourself off the marble surface and begin walking towards Diego, who’s obliviously looking at a chandelier like an intrigued child. Right on cue, you hear a thud coming from up above you and then aggressive shuffling around. Five is the strongest guess most likely, and someone else. Hearing a quiet “Oh, shit.” Coming from Five you decide it’s probably best to not leave him hanging.

Turning to Diego, while also unknowingly gaining the attention of Lila. You whisper yell for him to follow you up the stairs to Five’s rescue. Racing up the steps in record time with Diego not far behind you. You look to your right, noticing in surprise that Five’s in a bit of a scuffle with one of the blonde Swedes that tried shooting you, Diego, and Lila earlier. Stopping for a brief moment, not entirely sure what to do as this is indeed very odd. You hear footsteps quickly approaching from behind you, smelling the scent of sweat and anger in its wake.

A second later you hear Diego yell out your name in distress as your hair is pulled back and a belt is tightly wrapped around your windpipe. Getting dragged back down the hallway, completely taken off guard, you struggle to breath as your eyes go wide in astonishment. Your gaze shifts to Diego, as he angrily sprints to you, charging at the taller Swede who’s about to gut punch you with brass knuckles. Fuck.

Bracing yourself, ready to get the wind knocked out of you. Diego heroically pushes the guy into the wall, punching him hard in the face. Your throat is suddenly released, only for the shorter Swede to turn you around and crack you across the side of your head with his belt. Kicking you out of the way and across the floor you tumble, your head stinging in pain. Dazed, from the not even 20 second violent actions you just got shoved into. You get up from the floor feeling a hot liquid running down the side of your face. Touching your temple, you pull your hand away to unveil deep red blood coating your fingers. This bitch is dead.

You look up instantly to watch in dismay as Diego is currently getting his ass whooped by the two pissed off Swedes. The one that was previously choking you, is now suffocating Diego with that fucking leather belt. After getting punched in the stomach by brass knuckle Swede, Diego kicks him to the ground, still struggling with the first who’s still doing his damn best to suffocate him. Grabbing a knife previously hidden in his pocket, he throws it with his free hand. Missing his target in the heat of the moment, which was intended to hit the other large Swede that’s beating the shit out of Five further down the hallway.

Fuming, with the rage of a bull at the manhandling you just unwillingly received. You rush forward throwing your right arm around the blonds throat that’s currently choking Diego. Pulling down hard, the Swede releases him, now struggling to breath from your own violent attack. The tables have turned, bitch. You aggressively throw him into the wall, kicking him hard in the stomach as you send him thrashing onto the carpeted floor.

Turning quickly to the sound of pained grunts, you watch as Diego gets punched in the stomach with the brass knuckles you so marvelously avoided. You catch sight of Lila, who looks to both of you before turning to Five and running to his aid. Alright then.

Only letting yourself get distracted for a moment, you turn back to your new little fighting buddy, who’s now standing and looking very enraged.

“Let’s dance.” You hiss at him with a bitter smirk, clenching your fists.

Hearing the sound of glass breaking behind you, you ignore it. As you face the blonde Swedish assassin, dodging a heated swing, you bring your left arm up to sucker punch him right in the guts. You turn around swiftly to face him again, only to receive a hard blow to your shoulder. He’s good, but not good enough. He goes to kick you in the legs, missing by an inch as you pull back just in time. Realizing he still has his belt clutched in his right hand, he cracks it at you with lightning speed. Time slows for a second as your senses begin to take over, giving you better reaction time. You turn to the right and watch as the shining silver of the belt buckle shows you your own distorted reflection. Catching the makeshift weapon mid-throw, you grab it tightly with your left fist. Pulling him towards you in the process, you then reach out and tightly seize his throat with your right hand. Throwing the leather belt off to the side and growling fiercely at his surprised face, you lift him up an inch or two off the ground. Struggling to breath and find his footing again, he suddenly shoots his arms up directly into your right one, that’s currently strangling him. You drop him, yelping in surprise at the sudden pain. Quickly gaining his bearings back, he jumps up on the wall for support, as he speedily throws himself at you, sucker punching you right in the cheekbone. Fucking ouch. Stumbling back from the aggressive hit to your face, you both begin intensely throwing punches at each other, getting a hit in here and there, while also managing to block most of his advances. Who knew you’d be reuniting with your lost lover and fighting Swedish assassins at a gala this week. Things have been weirder, you think, focusing back on the task at hand, literally. Grimacing in pain at the hit you just received to your shoulder, you jump up, kicking him into the wall and leaving a small dent. Slightly disoriented, he gets up again, blocking another one of your knee thrusts heading straight for his junk. Sometimes you fight dirty, okay. Throwing your left arm up to block a hit, you take this opportunity to twist yourself around to the right in a quick circle. Jutting your right elbow directly into the Swedes temple, knocking him unconscious. That’s right fucker, nighty night.

Your ears tune promptly to the sound of broken glass yet again, and the sound of Diego’s grunts mixed with that of the angry Swede he is currently fighting. You watch as they fight dirty, picking up whatever objects they could get their hands on as they continue to beat each other up down the hallway. Knocking blondie out with an impressive hit to his head, Diego looks out the window spotting Reginald and Grace standing outside ready to go home. You catch where his eyes are looking, observing the scene of them together for yourself.

You hear Diego whisper a soft, “Dad” before turning to you, worriedly looking at the stream of blood coming from the side of your hairline.

Pointing to the bloody spot you flash him a small smile. “You should see the other guy.”

Smiling briefly, he nods at you while turning towards the stairs and walking quickly down them, you right behind him. As the two of you make your way through the bustling crowd, right out the doors, and through the grass to the front entrance where Five is shouting something in another language at a retreating car.

“Was that him?” Diego questions.

“Yeah.” Five says, sounding like he’s out of breath.

“Jesus, it’s just one thing after the other” You add irritated. Fed up with all this Hargreeves nonsense. Especially those fucking Swedes.

[octanesimp3000]

The Bunny, The Decoy and the Apex Games #6

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32034451/chapters/79916935 

Summary:

Mornings were usually uninteresting and routine for you on the drop ship. Not with Octavio and Elliott around, however.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 5

————————————————————————–

You didn’t know when you’d fallen asleep the previous night. The last thing you could remember were the sounds of Octavio clicking away on his keyboard as he played some fast-paced parkour game.

Opening your eyes that morning, the last thing you expected to see was a head of green hair poking out from under the covers right next to you in bed but lo and behold, there it was. Out of surprise, you shouted angrily “Octavio, what the hell! I didn’t say you could sleep in my bed!” as you quickly leaped out of bed. Thankfully, you’d not changed out of your day clothes before falling asleep.

Octavio slowly and groggily sat up on the bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he said “Where was I supposed to sleep then? I tried sleeping on the floor but it was hard and the carpet was all scratchy.” He looked up at you with bleary eyes and his short green hair sticking straight up as if he’d been electrocuted in his sleep. You couldn’t help but think that sleepy Octavio looked pretty cute, especially with the plush bunny cuddled up close to him.

You tried to push those thoughts out of your mind by focusing on the problem at hand. “Well, I don’t know. Anywhere but in my bed! I’m sure if you asked, the Syndicate would lend you a mattress or something,” you suggested, folding your arms across your chest.

Octavio thought about it for a few moments before he responded “But someone would see me carrying the mattress in here and then, they’ll wonder why we don’t want to share a bed, yknow?” You wished you could have thought of something smart to say in response but you knew Octavio was right. The other Legends would definitely suspect something.

“Fine. But they should have finished fixing that air conditioner by now so it doesn’t matter anyway,” you grumbled as you gathered up some clothes to change into before heading for the showers, leaving Octavio to fall back onto the bed for another 20 minutes of blissful sleep. When you returned, Octavio was propped up into a sitting position on the bed with pillows placed behind his back for extra comfort, typing away furiously on his phone. You sat down at your desk to do your hair and makeup and pulled out a mirror from the drawer, setting it down on the surface. When you heard Octavio throw his phone down with a small groan of annoyance, you asked “You alright, Octavio?”

Octavio picked up his phone again and swiped on its screen for a bit before offering it to you, saying “Look what one of the assholes working at the Syndicate texted me.” You hesitated before taking his phone. Most people preferred to hold their phone up for others when they wanted to show them something. Privacy reasons, you guessed. Yet, here was Octavio just unconditionally handing it to you. No warnings to not swipe to the right or anything. You felt weirdly trusted.

The text message read: ‘Unfortunately, it appears as if the plumber requires some special parts to be ordered in order to fix the air conditioner in your dormitory. The parts will unfortunately take up to 10 days to arrive. I apologize for any inconvenience caused.'

Your mouth fell open in surprise. You were going to have to share a bed with Octavio for another 10 WHOLE DAYS? You didn’t know how to react to this news. You handed Octavio back his phone, and forced a smile onto your face as you explained that you had plans to meet Ajay and Natalie for breakfast, and you would see him later. “W-Wait, Y/N!,” Octavio had begun to say but the door had already clicked shut behind you as you began making your way to the cafeteria.

The ladies of the Apex Games often got together once a week for breakfast to catch up and enjoy some much needed time with the girls. That day, the only one missing from the group was Loba who apparently had an important appointment she had to attend. Once you’d grabbed a plate of scrambled eggs and two slices of toast from the steaming hot chafing dishes, you took your usual seat between Ajay and Natalie.

You’d noticed that there was a strange silence that descended upon the group when you arrived and it suddenly came to you that this was the first ladies’ breakfast since your ‘relationship’ with Octavio went public. You mentally braced yourself for any prying questions as you tucked into your food.

Natalie was the first to break the silence. “So...Y/N, how are things going between you and Octavio?,” she asked sweetly before taking a sip from her mug of coffee. Her eyes had a little glimmer in it that told you she was hungry for any information you would offer. You could almost sense the anticipation in the air and took another bite of toast just to give yourself some time to think of an answer.

“We’re good. It’s kinda hard to keep up with him but I mean, I knew that going into it,” you said with what you hoped was a convincing shy smile. Only when you saw Ajay and Ramya’s shared eyebrow raises did you spot the possible cheeky double entendre of your words. You were just going to launch into a desperate babble to explain what you actually meant but it was probably just as well that you were suddenly interrupted by the appearance of none other than Elliott.

Elliot wore his usual charming smile as he looked around the table at everyone present, pausing for a moment when his gaze landed on you. “Good morning, ladies! You’re all looking wonderful today. Mind if the great Mirage joins you for a bit?,” Elliott asked as he put his hands on his hips, expectantly waiting for someone to invite him to sit down.

“No, Elliott. Women only today,” Renee said bluntly, not one to try and protect anyone’s feelings. Elliott held a hand up to his heart, making a face as if he had been wounded by Renee’s statement. She merely rolled her eyes as she turned to look at the other women present to see what they thought of Elliott joining their meal. Unfortunately for the ‘great Mirage’, most of them were in agreement with Renee.

Elliott laughed the rejection off and said casually “Alright, alright! You ladies need your space, I get it.” He started to walk in the direction of the cafeteria’s entrance but suddenly stopped and quickly came back to the table you were at, excitedly exclaiming “I almost forgot! I’m gonna make some pork chops for dinner tonight, anyone wanna try some?”

Everyone knew about Elliott’s famous pork chop recipe that his mom had created. It was supposedly so tender that the meat would just melt in your mouth. There was no turning down this offer, and everyone present at the table were up for a taste. Pleased at how well his offer was received, Elliott seemed to puff up in pride. He looked pointedly at you and said with a wink “Once you taste it, Y/N, you’re gonna wish you were dating me instead. I bet Octavio can’t make pork chops like I can.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Did Elliot actually say what you thought he said or were you just starting to go insane from all the pining you did? You stared motionless from the utter shock as Elliott strutted out of the cafeteria like a delighted peacock. Ajay nudged you in the ribs with her elbow and asked with an amazed smile on her face “What was that?! Was Elliott hitting on ya? What love potion have ya got on these boys?”

“I-I’m sure it’s nothing! You know what Elliott’s like. He’s always flirting with literally anyone who’ll listen,” you laughed, waving Ajay’s suggestions away. Secretly, you wished that she was right. Maybe you really did stand a chance with Elliott. You struggled to focus for the rest of the meal and even on your walk back to your dorm, your mind was far off in the stars.

You stared blankly at the door to your dorm for a moment, wondering when on earth you’d gotten back here before turning the doorknob and opening it. Octavio was nowhere to be seen. His things were still scattered about your room and the bedsheets were a tangled mess but no green haired man. However, you spotted a mound of blankets and pillows bundled up at the foot of your bed which was suspiciously wriggling.

You approached the bundle cautiously and reached your leg out towards it to give it a gentle poke with your shoe. Immediately, Octavio popped his head out from amongst the blankets and pillows with a surprised look. “What are you doing down there? If you’re trying to make a pillow fort, that’s the wrong way to do it,” you raised an eyebrow with a confused frown.

“I was just trying to test out if this would be comfy!,” Octavio explained as he tried to hold up as many of the blankets and pillows as he could at once, dropping a few in the process. You must have still looked confused because he continued quickly “Well, you didn’t want me to sleep in your bed so I figured I’d try and make my own down here so you wouldn’t get angry at me.”

You instantly felt regret at having left so abruptly earlier that morning. What had gone through Octavio’s head to make him think that you’d get angry at him for something that he couldn’t control? So much so that he was ready to sleep on the floor like a pet dog. “Octavio, I’m sorry for getting upset at you this morning. You’re welcome to share my bed till they manage to fix that leaky air conditioner in your room, I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor like that,” you said firmly, gesturing at the blankets and pillows.

“Really?! Oh, you’re the best! Thank you, Y/N,” Octavio shouted in delight as he proceeded to leap up from the floor and onto the bed. You shook your head as you laughed at the sight. Octavio got so excited over the smallest things. After wriggling about for a few minutes on the bed, Octavio finally clambered out of bed and said “I’m hitting the practice range! Wanna come?”

You didn’t have anything else planned for the day so you agreed on the condition that he wasn’t about to try launching grenades off his jump pad again. Last time, it’d almost hit you if it wasn’t for your quick reflexes. Octavio laughed and said cheekily “Hmm, I’ll think about it. Come on, come on! Let’s get going!”

Octavio dashed out of the dormitory that you two now shared. For the time being, at least. You quickly chased after him, not wanting to left too far behind. Was this what life would be like for you now? Little did you know, there was still a lot more to come.

[sdv-mostly-shane]

The Guessing Game.

Summary: Shane is at the saloon, when the farmer starts talking about the person they love in town. The man they are describing sounds so amazing that Shane couldn’t possibly think they’re talking about him.

Warnings: mild mentions of alcoholism, mild NSFW

*Thud*. He didn’t exactly intend to slam the door, but he didn’t care enough to stop himself. *Thud* The ache of his upper back as he dropped himself against the wall wasn’t enough to distract him from the greater throbbing in his head as he fought off last nights abyss, yet still craved another, all the same. *Thud*. The familiar, dull sound of glass hitting wood, as he raised the liquid amber to his lips, over and over and over and over and.....

He hated himself.

Though his mind was flooded with apparitions that screamed declarations of self loathing, desperation, and insults, he still could hear one thing above the thoughts- the farmers voice. The moment that solid door opened, Shane looked for the familiar sway of the farmers boots through the fan of his eyelashes on his downturned head. He never looked up except to take another pensive drink, but from the moment he caught sight of those boots, he lingered his gaze just a moment too long on the face of the farmer, hoping to never be noticed. The one thing he could always do without being caught though, was listen-and that, he certainly did. He loved the sound of the farmers voice

He hated how much of a fool he was

Emily’s bright singsong of a voice was heard first: “Hey, Farmer! We’ve become decent friends, haven’t we? That’s fine with me.”

The farmer responded with some pleasantries, as they pulled out a counter stool, and the two continued their conversation, seeming as close as friends could be. Shane only ever had one friend like that-and he wasn’t here anymore. He longed to be talked to like that again, but not just by anyone, but by the farmer. He, however, knew he was far too messed up for that to happen, so he instead resigned to pushing the farmer away as much as possible, to avoid being crushed by the inevitable failure that his depression and alcoholism caused on his relationships.

Emily chimed, interrupting him from his dark thoughts: “So, now that you’re all settled in, have you had your eye on anyone? You can tell me! I promise I won’t spill”

In an instant, Shane felt every ounce of blood rush straight to his face. He quickly hid behind his glass, the speed of doing so nearly causing him to fall over from the combined embarrassment and the buzz. He hadn’t allowed himself the luxury of dreaming about being with the farmer, but he certainly hadn’t thought about the possibility of the farmer being with someone else. The blood from his face turned, and drained straight to the pit of his stomach, and he was overcome with the dark, sour images of the farmer being held by another...

He hated how much he longed for the farmer.

He braced himself for the heartache-a pain just as familiar as the taste of the amber in his cup. Who would it be? The farmer was so good, so pure, so charming, and so perfect. They already had the whole town wrapped around their finger; they could choose anyone and they’d be theirs in an instant. Who even said they’d have to choose someone from The Valley? After all, they had a life in the city... they probably had plenty of others ready to accept the moment they’d ask. There was no possible way someone as bright and beautiful could ever like someone like Shane, let alone BE with him. He held his breath as he waited for an answer.

“Well... (as much as Shane dreaded the coming heartbreak, he still felt the warmth in his heart from their voice) I haven’t been here in The Valley very long, but I knew it as soon as I first saw him, that I would marry him one day. He’s absolutely the one for me.”

Here it comes. A ‘him’. Was it Sam? He was so funny, boyishly innocent with fluffy blonde hair, and he played the guitar for Yoba’s sake. It could easily have been love at first sight.

The farmer was interrupted by a squealing Emily- “I knew it! I could see it in your eyes. I know that look anywhere. What’s he like?”

“You know, I haven’t really talked to him too much; he always seems to be in such a hurry. But from what I have seen, he’s really gentle and caring towards those he loves, even if he does say things wrong sometimes. He’s really funny in a blunt sort of way, which I really like. I find him quite charming.”

Sounds like Harvey. The man was as gentle as it could come; Shane’s gruffness was in sharp contrast, and charming was definitely not a word he would use to describe himself. If the farmer was after someone nice, and who could actually support them, then the Doctor was the top pick.

“You know, I actually really think he’s super attractive too.”

“Well obviously I would hope so, if you had this big of a crush on him”

“Okay, yeah, but I mean it! His features are so defined, strong, and unique-I could look at his face all day. I really think he’s gorgeous. His hands are something else too; they look so rough and capable....” the farmer leaned in close to Emily but said in a not-so-quiet whisper, “you know, between you and I, Ive spent more than one night dreaming about those hands all over me..When I said capable, i meant it”

The blood from the knot in Shane’s stomach traveled further down, and he had to reign his thoughts in before they made a gallop toward a one-way dive off a cliff. Trying to distance himself away from those intense desires, he focused on the dream-guy the farmer was describing; Harvey was out of the question then-the doctor was neither defined nor strong. The looker of the town was Elliot, even Shane, oblivious as he was, knew that. While he hated the way his body looked in the mirror and was disgusted by the extra weight and shortness he was so blessed with, Elliot was tall, lean, and had silky hair like a girl. It’d make sense that the farmer would want someone as beautiful as them... that hand comment left Shane doubtful that it was indeed, Elliot though, since he never worked manual labor a day in his life-why would his hands be rough? Whoever it was, d*mn was he lucky. Shane knew in his heart he could never compete with that, so he forlornly sank deeper into his drink, promising himself for the hundredth time to get in better shape, starting tomorrow.

“How did you meet?”

“Well actually, he was pretty arrogant to me at first, but I feel like he puts up a front, and that he’s actually just hiding how sensitive he is. He really seems to have such great depth of emotion. I really want to see what’s behind the wall he puts up; He seems so kind hearted.”

Shane knew the only other single arrogant a*sholes in town beside himself were Alex and Sebastian. He saw a past version of himself in Alex, full of dreams, ability, and goals. Of course the farmer would like someone ambitious like that. Alex didn’t exactly hit the “depth of emotions” qualifier though, and was a big bit of a himbo. He didn’t really know Sebastian, except that he sometimes heard the rumbling of his motorcycle through the mountain on late nights spent in cindersnap forests. The farmer didn’t seem the type to go after that emo gothic ‘bad boy’ type, but then again, they could like the adventure that Sebastian could give them- something Shane never could do. Neither of them seemed all together kind-hearted, though, as far as Shane could tell.

Shane hated this wonderful sounding person that the farmer was describing.

Emily quickly responded “He sounds so dreamy. You HAVE to tell me who it is this instant. Do I know them?”

“Yeah actually, you see him in here all the time!”

Okay, that one caught the liquor in his mouth. None of the bachelors he thought the farmer was talking about frequented the bar all too often... maybe he was wrong? The only other guys that were “here all the time” were Gus, Willy, and Clint... and Shane didn’t even want to go there in his mind, and none of them were fitting to the descriptions the farmer laid out. The person that the farmer was describing seemed so thoroughly wonderful, that Shane didn’t even consider throwing himself in to his imaginary puzzle, he was none of those things that the farmer said.

He hated knowing that he would never be enough for the farmer

The alcohol alone was enough to make his mind cloudy, but the thoughts of the farmer being with any one of the men in town had his head spinning even more with jealousy and lust. He was so fervent and lost in his own train of thought trying to piece together the mystery, that he didn’t realize that with every sip of his drink, he drug his feet closer and closer to the farmer until he was practically sitting in their chair with them.

“In fact, he’s here now”

Shane whipped his head around, so close to the farmer that he nearly bumped into their hat, heart racing, and desperate to finally figure out who tf was so dear to his beloved farmer, so that he could just take the bitter wound and get it over with. Shane took inventory of who was in the room: Farmer, Gus, Leah, and Emily, who had just silently went to go grab a dish cloth from the back cupboards and turned the corner out of sight.

The breath of the farmers next words was hot and close in Shane’s ear : “I think you may know him too, Shane.”

He loved the feeling of the farmers breath on him.

[poptod]

could you do an elliot x reader where the reader describes elliot and what all things the reader loves about him

notes: this took a bit to get out but here it is. i'd like to say now that i am disabled (however I don't live in a hospital yet) and any insult towards disabled people in this is simply selfhatred and not bigotry. kind of strayed from the prompt but i hope you like it anyway :) thank u for requesting

++

Elliot didn't seem the type of person who would like you – he was quiet and intelligent, like every person who belittled you just because you weren't smart. Because of that and that alone, you mostly avoided him, which wasn't hard. He didn't come to the hospital often, but when he did it was a hell of an uproar. All the patients went around telling about his injuries, making up stories to coincide with them, as Elliot was not the type of person to tell the doctors the origins of his wounds.

You stayed out of it.

Still, you'd pass by his room every now and then the few times you felt like you could walk. Most other times you stayed in your wheelchair, using the smaller break area to get snacks instead of going up a floor to the actual lounge.

Every now and then the rooms would switch up – more often you'd get placed in a communal room, shaped like a large hallway and filled with six or so patients in their beds. It freed up space for emergency patients and nonpermanent ones, but that didn't stop your bedmates from complaining. Most of them were old, and those who had good care were privileged, and did not understand nuances of the modern world. A good deal of them weren't even aware they were in the modern world, and though it was sad to most others you found it interesting. They were practical gateways to different times, time travelling without ever leaving the hospital, learning new things without ever attending school.

Recently you were moved to a room fitted for two people, though for the most of that time it was only you in there. It was almost nice – the quiet, the privacy, and an indicator that the hospital wasn't overloaded. All things end though, and all things change, and one evening you awoke to find Elliot in the bed across from you. He was passed out, the curtain around him drawn only to hide him from the glass wall leading to the corridors. You could fully see him – the cuts on his head indicative of a concussion, the bruised eye most likely a result of a fight, the rough breathing caused by bruising and breaking of the ribs.

It took several days before he woke up from his coma, constantly under the surveillance of nurses who flitted in and out of the room. They ignored you for the most part, knowing you were a steady patient, and that you could handle yourself in this environment.

Your condition, while it couldn't kill you, was extremely unpleasant and often barred you from leaving your bed most days. Now you had little reason to otherwise – Elliot was... interesting. Just to watch. The way he stared up at the television, his fingers tapping against his leg and how the clamp around his forefinger made a heavier sound than the rest. A chronic fidgeter – a bit like yourself in that aspect, but the way he spoke was what really got you going. Rough and low, an almost monotone voice that lilted only in the most dire times. Still you kept your distance, reminding yourself that people like him did not like people like you. Restrained and disabled. Stupid and weak.

It had to be sometime in the middle of night. There were no clocks in your new room, but it was pitch black outside, the only light being the streetlights and cars busying themselves far below your floor. To your left, the hospital halls remained nearly empty. Most nurses and doctors had gone home, replaced by those in constant night shift, a job you did not envy. While you were nocturnal for your own health, working during the night seemed like an awful fate.

No matter – you pushed the blankets off your legs, hoisting yourself to sit up and soon stand tall on your feet. You hardly noticed Elliot still in the corner, at least not until the world began to black out, a cold tingling swarming over your head as you lost vision and feeling in your legs and arms. Only when you didn't hit the ground did you notice him. You felt the arms around you, the touch of warm skin against your freezing forearms, and his panicked breathing against your exposed neck.

"Thank you," you said rather dumbly, empty of any other reply. Wordlessly he helped you into your wheelchair, only returning to his bed when he trusted you were fully situated.

"Be careful," he mumbled.

Those were the first words he said to you, and though you didn't know it at the time, they were only the beginning of the many words and emotions he would communicate with you.

When you returned that same evening after your trip to the break room and bathroom, he was still awake, watching as you opened and closed the door behind you, waiting till you hauled yourself back into bed before he spoke.

"I've seen you here a lot," he said in that low voice that had your heart picking up. Thankfully, you were not connected to a heart monitor.

"That's probably because I live here," you said, chuckling softly, halted only by the expression he gave you. Unreadable but shocked – maybe mortified that he'd asked that question. Many people were. To them, you were glass.

Instead of apologizing, he asked, "why?"

"Neural condition. First of my kind," you said with almost a hint of pride – the first to have your type of disease. No cure, no shared misery, nothing. "Makes me have pain all the time and shuts off some of the networks in my brain. Body too, sometimes. 'S why I faint a lot when I stand."

He thought for a moment. At least that's what he looked like he was doing, staring at the blue blanket over his legs as a silence came between you.

"That must be difficult."

"Sometimes. I don't mind it so much though," you said, only a half lie. "It's all I've ever known. What are you here for anyway?"

He didn't answer. Instead he shifted onto his side, closed his eyes, and went to sleep. A sigh left you – of course he wouldn't tell you. He didn't even tell the doctors, so in his absence you pulled one of the books from your side table, turned on your reading light, and immersed yourself in a story for the remainder of the night.

In the daytime he continues to fidget, playing with his nails or his lips, running his hands through his hair – you love when he does that. You know you shouldn't love anything about him, considering he still hasn't shown any taste for you, but you find yourself admiring it despite that. Beautiful things can exist without reciprocation, and to be fair you aren't beautiful in most people's eyes. You’re broken, but you don't think on it much, and you don't imagine what you could've been. He's a wonderful distraction from that.

One evening he tells you – out of the blue he looks to the side of your head (the closest he's ever come to actual eye contact) and he just tells you. You hardly believe it, believe him, but he speaks as though he's sincere. Besides, you're not here to doubt him. You're here to listen.

"That's rough buddy," you said quietly when he finished. "Are you gonna be okay?"

"Who fuckin' knows," he grumbled, shifting his position to look out the window, where the edge of dusk faded over the horizon.

He gets better, eventually. And eventually he leaves the hospital – you tell him as he leaves, pulling on his clothes behind the curtain, that you enjoyed his company. That every horrible thing will have a place in his life, but that it's important to have a place for good things too. He doesn't really say anything. He mumbles something you can't hear, something you aren't fully meant to hear, and then he leaves.

Without a word.

He visits the hospital a couple more times, each time with the same injuries as before, and usually the same cause, but the only person he divulges the causes to is you. Quietly, so the doctors won't hear. Sometimes he sits at your bedside, even when you don't share a room, and he tells you about everything going on, everything in his life, every horrible thing he's stopped, every person he's inadvertently killed, every regret he's had, and he's had a lot of them. He's so broken, so tired of what he does – it's evident in the way he almost touches you. Softness fills his eyes when you smile, and the thought of it has tears brimming in your eyes.

You did that.

You made him happy.

It's worth it for that. He deserves happiness, has a better chance with it than you do – you have no say in your life other than the ability to roll yourself into an elevator and fling yourself off the roof of the building. But he has friends, albeit few of them, and he has work. Hobbies, too. When he talks about his hobbies (which you'd refer more to as hyper-fixations) you can almost see him smile. He gets more animated, he talks and talks and talks for ages and you listen. You listen well, even though you can't understand, and you ask questions in hopes of clarifying despite the fact you know you'll never understand. Again, you're not smart like he is. Not after all your medication.

Eventually his trips to the hospital begin to change in their meaning. He comes for check ups every now and then, and each time he visits you. He brings food from the world outside, new books, trinkets, things that might remind him of you, and each time he plays it down like it's nothing. But you have nothing left, no parents or friends, so the 'nothing' he gives you amounts to everything in your head.

Eventually his trips to the hospital become meaningless. He doesn't even check in – he just makes a beeline for your room, sometimes asking the front desk where you are if the rooms change, but for the most part he ignores everyone else in the hospital but you. It shatters and rebuilds your heart. This man who has lost so very much, gone through so many terrible things finds solace in you. He visits the hospital just for you.

No one does that.

You're a hard friend to have. You can't go out, you can barely walk, every now and then a shot of pain will interrupt a conversation to the point where you're writhing on the floor, pounding your fists against your head or anywhere where it might hurt as the nurses rush in and put you under anesthesia. You're embarrassing, and your whole life feels like a detriment to those around you.

Elliot holds your hand, and he hums. Quietly, and a tune you can't identify, but it stirs you out of one of those breakdowns, your dizzy vision focusing to see his silhouette against the city skyscrapers, the plush of his lips in the fluorescent lights, the scarce comfort in his eyes that appears only around you. To him you are safe, and to him you are his. To you, he is love, and to you, you are his.

Uncommon people band together, protect each other from the world meaning to do them harm, and there is no greater example of this than when he hides himself in you, and you let yourself live in him. A strange connection indeed, and not one anyone else would understand. You hardly understand it yourself, but when he smiles for the first time, a wide smile, followed with a laugh that comes from his chest as his eyes shut and he falls back in his chair – you hardly feel your pain. It's just him.

It's just him, and nothing else needs to exist.

[elliotfm]

hey guys ! i’m jules and i’m super excited to open; i have two super clingy cats in case any of you ever need a visual pick-me-up, i’m a uni student in canada and a Big skincare and dark chocolate junkie, more than likely gonna be typing replies while indulging in either jsyk ! i tried to keep it short since i’m a rambly bitch, but links to elliot’s basic stats and her wc page will be up soon — though i have some under the read more — as well as a playlist whenever i find the energy to set it up here FLDKSJGSD also pardon the lack of theme, i forgot the url for the preview and code link for the one i wanted to use but i’ll have it figured out shortly ! anyways, without further ado:

◤  *  kim doyeon  ;  twenty-one  ;  cis female  ;  she/her  —  is  that  who  i  think  it  is  over  there  ?  outer  banks  very  own  kook  ,  elliot hong  .  makes  sense  ‘cause  i  can  practically  hear  into it  by  chase atlantic  blasting  through  their  headphones  .  plus  who  else  would  you  find  out  at  the boneyard  right  now  ?  some  say  they're  pretty  astute  ,  but  it's  the  imperious  reputation  i'd  watch  out  for  .  i  wonder  if  they're  still  a student / heiress  and  obsessing  about  keeping  up  with  their  bongs, random shoes and empty bottles of dom on the living room floor  &  a bite as big as her bark  vibe  .  [  ooc  ;  jules/21+/nt/she/her  ]

tw: drug and alcohol mention

the middle child of her parents, elliot is the fourth of her father’s five children

her mother is his second ( now ex — ) wife, though they remain cordial and have since moved on

grew up with a silver spoon, her dad being a wall street giant who would split his time between nyc and, once upon a time, connecticut — though it ultimately became a back-and-forth from nyc and the outer banks when elle was about four

her mother was adopted into an old money family ( on the lower end of that group ) in charlotte when she was a baby and had become something of a socialite when young, but shifted to becoming an entrepreneur. of what ?? i still haven’t figured that out LFJDGS

has a half-sister and half-brother from her dad’s first marriage, tallulah ( aka tally, a pain in my ass over on my indie fdlkjgs ) and bennett, and is basically a mini tally as all she really had were brothers and was Attached to her big sis whenever she’d visit

and as for her older and younger brother..... they might be wcs soon enough so we’ll leave that be for now DFLSGKJ

now onto ELLE ! she was the princess of the younger three hong kids, like the apple of her mother’s eye and her father’s Biggest tormentor

aka would hog the phone whenever he couldn’t come home for the night to tell him good night, hounded him to read her bedtime stories, pretty much always got her way in the most wholesome way when she was a kid

like i said before, moved to the obx when she was four because her mom used to visit when she was a kid and loved it; it was also due to its convenience in seeing her maternal grandparents regularly, its quieter nature in comparison to the affluent hubs for businessmen outside of manhattan and just in general

her dad just went along because it’s what his wife wanted and fuck it, at least the kids wouldn’t hound them to take them to places beyond their urban surroundings as often DLSFJDS

growing up, she wasn’t Too much of a brat but liked having the spotlight on her — she’d accredit it to tally’s influence AND her parents caving to her whims more often than not — and was very sociable and respectful even back in primary school

LOVED to explore, and, while not a tomboy per se, would take part in some activities her brothers or other boys in her grade participated in; be it to bond, trail along her siblings’ every move because she didn’t wanna stray far from action, or to prove that she can hold her own, she’d do it

uhhh overall a cute, if not high-maintenance, kid, but her teen years ?? yikes, people would be in for a ride bc this is when she REALLY started to emulate tally and shift her boldness towards riskier shit

basically could’ve been a main character on outer banks itself with her reckless antics and partying as a teenager…. and now, even SGDLKF

could’ve been considered a typical kook, save for her wild streak; she could hang with the pogues and wouldn’t let her slight superiority complex come into play unless she was challenged or something, otherwise she’d chase the party and the fun wherever she could find it

loves fashion and being the hottest in the room, didn’t need to step on toes to get further but would do so at times Solely to make a point/to call someone out on their shit

is now attending columbia u, rather she’s taking a Break as she makes sure she’s content with the path she’s taking ( aka being the trashy 21 year old she wants to be, chilling at the family home with just her siblings and daddy’s money with no Major worries involving the near future )

isn’t the most studious person, but she’d gotten far enough to begin wrapping up her major whenever she decides to head back

though.. the entire time has been mostly spent sleeping with some of her rich friends, drinking and smoking pot, with the occasional hit of whatever clean enough drug that one of her friends had on them

also spent a lot of her time meeting up with her socialite big sis as a plus one to some cooler events, so while she’s not famous, her name has made the rounds where it matters given her surname’s already established relevance in nyc

when she’s not getting an education and is homebound instead, she’s pissing off her neighbours with her house parties at the family home on the beach, doing dumb shit the second she’s inside of a gala or club — albeit with partial discretion that’s completely ignored whenever around other young adults — and just chilling poolside and staying hydrated fgkldjsg

personality and shit

if i were to use a label to describe her, she'd be a mix between the princess/baby doll, the hedonist and the reveller i think ?? i don’t even know where to place her LKSDFGJLK

self-confidence is through the roof, KNOWS she’s pretty and doesn’t really let rumours or negativity get her down — aside from wanting to unleash hell if someone keeps irritating her for whatever reason

she’s messy as hell, but around the uptight, live-through-your-kids parents of kooklandia she puts on the façade of a poised young woman who has Some fun because she knows it bodes well.. only even then, she doesn’t maintain it bc honestly, who cares —

she’s not a complete dick per se, but she can be snide and boastful when provoked

has something of a superiority complex, independent and lives lavishly with reckless abandon

non-committal yet sensible when it comes to who she sleeps with; typically has a couple of stable fuck buddies but has had some one night stands if she’s feeling it

keeps her true inner circle small, but gets off on attention and likes to stay cordial with some people, so she’s got quite a few friends all the same

like i said earlier, will hang with the pogues and thinks the whole class rivalry thing is kind of stupid when it means sticking with her own would mean dealing with parent pleasers, polo shirt enthusiasts and either being too straight-laced or too destructive for her liking

.. so she’s a far cry from her sister in that regard, otherwise rip GLSKJ

though that doesn’t stop her from unleashing her pompous attitude onto a pogue when it seems appropriate, aka doing anything to piss her off

there really isn’t much to expand on tbh, though i will say that her emboldened nature and need for a good time however she can get it comes out more than her uglier side ( except her vanity. that’ll never go away KSFDG )

some quick plot ideas

a childhood friend or two, pretty standard idea there

could carry over into a trio type of thing depending on where she stands with either of them, or they’re a different couple of pals she’s made over the years

family friends, aka nyc kids or people who’ve rubbed elbows with either of elle’s parents, though they don’t Actually have to be friends of course JGDSFKL

her best friend and confidante, someone she can have cute moments with between the chaos and one of the few people that elle would probably accost someone for if they hurt the other in any way

enemies are always fun ! probably rooted in a competitive streak more than anything else but i’m all ears for a more complex reason

ex-hookup(s), current hookup(s), throw it all at me klgfjd

a hateship/ewb would be fun with her too, oh my god sfdgklj

FAKE FRIENDS !! either in the past or currently, probably stayed friends for the sake of their appearances but have a lot of quiet disdain for each other — though elliot wouldn’t be too bothered by that situation beyond being around someone she deems soul-sucking, face value hype and knowing they probably need her more than she needs them gives her too much satisfaction fkskgls

an ex-something, open to anyone. either someone her parents forced on her to straighten her out a tad that she wound up liking…. after a good period of her telling them to fuck off sdglk or someone she’d been seeing for a while at her own accord, likely someone her parents wouldn’t approve of so readily. would’ve ended the same way: with her calling it off because she didn’t want to settle down, not even for a relationship ( and perhaps bc she’s scared of commitment with her cracked family dynamic that’s been a thing since birth, but that’s another story jsdfkg )

or we can just as easily do high school exes who only really stayed together until graduation bc their parents were being Some level of overbearing with how they’d be such a good couple — not that there was nothing there, just nothing beyond sex and being some kind of status symbol to each other, idk lfkgsd

her designated event pals would be super fun ?? sdgkflj like they go to all of these big parties and galas with their families, break off to do their own thing bc those events are boring as fuck, and head back to her place before she throws an after-party of sorts. they’d be decent friends beyond this though, them being someone she trusts a good bit compared to others in her circle

[msiopao]

The One Where the Moon Became a Witness

pairing: sera x jeno

summary: in the middle of a blackout and dead phones, they danced to the music from her box in the dark with light from the moon streaming in through the window

for christmas, the members all respectively went to their homes with Renjun and Chenle going back to China and the rest to their families, but 2 remain. The parents of the two decided to take vacations without their children since they were told to warn their families that they might not make it back home for the holidays. But it was proven wrong as they were free and now, had no family to go to.

One was in a cruise while the other was in a vacation to make up for a previously cancelled anniversary trip.

Refusing the other members’ wish to stay with them, they slightly regretted the decision at the empty dorm and the silence that filled every crevice.

Sera sat on the couch with Haikyuu playing in the TV but she was barely paying attention, instead focusing on her phone with her fingers typing rapidly and her brows furrowed together. Her brothers were all in college and they too, were without their parents. At least, they had each other and met up in New York. 

...

elliot: why couldn’t you just have taken a plane here

mika: its only 15 hours

sera: ‘iTs oNLy 15 hOUrS’

sera: fool get off crack

elias: we dont want you here anyways 😤

sera: i will actually fite your face

atticus: its literally christmas eve

atticus: would it kill you to be nice for a few days

sera: hmm,,, suddenly mom appeared in the chat

mika: can you video later

mika: we usually celebrate the first few hours of christmas together

elliot: we wouldnt need to do that if finny was here

sera: lit rally just say you miss me

elliot: yall hear sum

elias: SLDKFJAELLIOT

sera: that unfair

sera: i dont have a twin to clown you with

elliot: god has his favorites and its obviously not you

mika: stop arguing

mika: its annoying having to swipe up when i just want to play my game

sera: jeez, mik, why you so pissy for

atticus: elias used up all the hot water

sera: imagine being pissy for taking a cold shower

sera: you shouldnt be unfamiliar with it since you used to take one every morning right, brother mikhail sir?

elias: KSDFJ;ASDKLGHKLDSFJIMSCREAMING

elliot: GET REKT HYUNG

mika: GOD SERAFINA SHUT UP

atticus: one christmas

atticus: one peaceful christmas was what i want

...

jeno noticed her soft smile and he approached her, holding 2 mugs full of hot chocolate and marshmallows topped with whipped cream. Exactly how she liked it. A giggle escaped from her and she turned to look at him as she felt the cushion beside her sink due to the weight placed on it. She smiled gratefully at him and moved to hold her cup so he could safely hold his.

“Do you miss them?” He asked, noticing the name of her oldest brother’s name pop up. 

With a wistful look, she nodded and blew on the hot liquid. “Yeah. Even though I want to see them, we only have 3 days of break so its not worth flying back and forth.”

Jeno wrapped an arm around her shoulder, gently pulling her close. His eyes trained on the ball that flew around the court in the show and he felt her laugh when the orange-haired boy missed the ball.

“Ah, no!” She whined with a laugh at the face of the boy.

Continuing to watch the banter between 2 characters, they grew silent as they became focused and interested at the show and the speech that a character was giving. She soaked in every word since it reminded her and Dream but then it went blank.

Everything went dark and the soft glow from the street light came through the window beside the TV to give them a way to see things a little bit clearer. Jeno felt her tense form and with the help of the slight light, he gently pried the cup off of her hands and placed both of their mugs on the coffee table in front of the couch.

“Ah, we have a blackout,” Jeno said. Sera nodded and she moved to turn on the flashlight from her phone only for it to blink ‘1%’ in red. 

Cursing at the worst timing, she turned it off and placed it to the side since it was no use anymore. “Jeno, can we use your phone?” 

With a sheepish look, he sent her a lop-sided smile. “You see, I played my game too much and I just plugged it in earlier. It might not have a lot of charge in it. I can go get it?”

“Oh, it’s okay. We just need it to tell the boys we have a blackout and in case they need to get ahold of us,” she reasoned as he stood up to get it from his room and coming back with it on hand.

They sat in silence, even the sound of birds disappeared and was replaced with eerie quietness which was very unfamiliar to the dorm. This might be the first time the walls heard such silence after they moved in.

“The light is hurting my eyes,” Jeno mumbled before taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes.

“Do you want to go in my room? My string lights are battery operated so it’s not turned off. It’s very bright,” she suggested. He nodded and they padded over to her room at the end of the hall.

Jeno has been in her room millions of times so it wasn’t unfamiliar territory and he even noticed his hoodie hanging on her chair.

“There it is!” He pointed at the missing material he was just looking for a few days ago.

Sera smiled guiltily and placed her hands up. “Sorry,” she apologized.

“Nah, it’s okay. I just thought I lost it. You can keep it,” he reassured before jumping on her bed. “It’s so not fair you got a soft bed.”

She rolled her eyes before climbing on it beside him. “What are you talking about? Jaemin has the softest. This isn’t that comfortable.”

Jeno turned his head to look at her and his ears turned red as admired the way the bright lights against the wall illuminated her face and made her eyes brighter than they usually were. It almost made it look like she was glowing.

Sera noticed his stare and looked at him curiously. “Hm? Something on my face?”

He snapped out of it and his smile reached his eyes, turning it to crescents. “No. I just like the lights.”

For a 30 minutes, they just talked about absolute nonsense and old memories to past time since they couldn’t use his phone for entertainment. Then the string up lights flickered slightly that went unnoticed by the two.

“God, Chenle almost killed Renjun. Thank god you were able to hold him back,” Sera laughed at the memory.

Jeno shook his head with a smile when he remembered the unpleasant time that Renjun spilled a little bit of paint on his apple watch. “Honestly, he could’ve just gotten a new one. It didn’t help that you pointed it out in the first place.”

“Yah, if I didn’t, Jisung would’ve. There was a big blob of blue in the screen of his watch. Who wouldn’t notice that?” She defended and tightened her hold of his middle.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled and was about to say something when for the second time that day, they were covered in darkness again.

“Really, God absolutely hates me right now,” she muttered harshly. “Chenle took all of that good luck with him. I told him to leave that jade bracelet here.”

Jeno knew about her slight fear of the dark because she slept with the lights on everyday and it’s been probably a while since she changed the batteries. 

“You stay here while I go get some batteries and a flashli-”

“No, don’t leave me.” She stopped him from sitting up with a hand on his arm. 

Jeno saw her slight wide eyes and nodded before laying back down. His brain racked up ways to comfort and keep her entertained but he came blank. Turning his head to the side, he looked around her room with blurry eyes and he found the small box that she had on top of her dresser.

“I have an idea,” he said. “But I need to get up, love. Will you let me go get it?”

She nodded and he smiled softly before standing up and crossing the room to grab the circular object. Sera sat up and saw the familiar outline of her great-grandmother’s music box that was given to her right before she died.

Jeno gently wound the box and opened the lid, hearing the soft melody of an unknown song and watching the dancing of the 2 figures. He placed it on her nightstand and he held his hand out to her.

“May I have this dance, m’lady?” He asked. Sera wasn’t able to answer properly since the moon hit behind him so perfectly that it looked like he was an angel and she still cannot believe someone as gorgeous and perfect like Jeno was her best friend.

“I-Um,, Yes.” 

In their pajamas and socks, the two people danced slowly, moving side to side. Their eyes were closed as they slowly got lost into their own world. The soft music from the box filled the room and she could feel his heartbeat as her head rested on his chest and her arms were loosely around his neck. Jeno’s hold of her waist tightened when she moved closer to his warm form.

“Thanks, Jen.” Her gratitude made a smile appear in his face and he kissed the top of her head.

“I can feel your heartbeat,” she mumbled against the cloth.

“Hm? Can you really?” He asked, smile growing wide.

“Yea,” she answered. “Hey, Jen?”

“Hm?”

“I love your smile the most.” 

The declaration took him aback. “W-Well, thanks?”

Sera smiled at his awkward stutter and continued on. “It reminds me of the moon. When you smile, it just lights up everything else. Like the moon in the sky. It gives purpose and comfort that there is light in the midst of darkness. And your eyes. They scrunch up like moon crescents. That’s my favorite hour of the moon.”

“I love your smile, too.” He giggled and there was something different in the atmosphere.

She opened her eyes and saw the digital clock flash a red ‘12:05′. “Look, it’s Christmas.”

Jeno moved his head and he swears he could see faint snowflakes. “Oh? It is.”

“I guess I got my wish then,” she hummed happily. 

“What?”

“I wanted God to let me spend Christmas with someone I love,” she revealed and looked up to meet his eyes. “It wasn’t just a coincidence that you happened to have to stay here too.”

He brushed away strands of her hair that rested on her face before patting her hair. “Stuff happens for a reason.”

“When I came to Korea, you and Jaemin were the only ones I had. But now, I have 18 people with me. I’m very thankful for everything but I think meeting you is the one I’m most thankful for.”

The confession might’ve been spawned as she got more tired and sleepy but he thinks that she’s probably wanted to say that for a while.

“I’m here for you, Sera. I’ve been here from the start and I’ll be here till the end.” Jeno reassured and she hugged him tighter with a content sigh.

His promise is only heard by the 4 walls of her room and remembered by the two of them but it signifies a new beginning and the creation of a deeper bond and the only witness was the moon.

And it thought this was beautiful.

a/n: this was lowkey cute but it didnt turn out the way i wanted it to :(

[roc-thoughtblog]

Sense and Sensibility Readthrough Part 22

Chapter 25, Pages 131-137

Oooh new text editor - oh dear lord it’s broken right now. I can’t paste everything in and it just ate my the rest of my post when I tried to delete the readmore. Needs more time in the oven. Anyway.

Previously, Elinor and Lucy have A Polite Talk. About Edward. Sort of more like a standoff really, no real shots were fired but somehow I still feel like blood was drawn. Actually no, the more I think about it, shots were fired and Elinor has been gravely wounded.

Summary of Elinor and Lucy's pianoside pistols-at-dusk: Elinor is the faster shot, and clips Lucy early, but Oh! 'Tis but a flesh wound! But Elinor needs to reload, she's now wide open! Lucy takes aim and fires back! Oh! Straight through the HEART! Elinor can't recover from this! Lucy Steele emerges victorious, and her prize is conviction of Elinor's intent to surrender of Edward Ferrars.

Lucy Steele: Silk hiding Steele - Okay I should stop that thought before I let TvTropes devour my soul - though a casual scan says that page doesn't list any direct Austen entries - there is a Mr. and Mrs. Darcy Mysteries though - actually this is fascinating - but there's no mention of my girl Anne Elliot here - aaaaand TvTropes is devouring my soul again even as I update what I'm doing as I type.

I'm going to assume this extra level of meta-awareness did prevent me from going even further down the rabbit hole.

Anyway!

Readthrough below.

Chapter 25

We're entering an entirely new segment of the story. Last chapter seemed to have wrapped up the Edward saga with a sort of two paragraph conclusion glossing over the aftermath. This chapter we're starting over fresh talking about Mrs. Jennings' personal life.

She insists on inviting the older Miss Dashwoods to her actual home near Portman Square. The Miss Dashwoods of course refuse, but I'm pretty sure this is where the next stage of the story will be set so something is almost certainly going to send them.

"I have had such good luck getting my own children off my hands [...] if I don't get one of you at least well married before I have done with you, it shall not be my fault."

Oh, I think that's the chief motivator of Mrs. Jennings' invitation. And she's very confident too. :'D

"I thought it would be more comfortable for them to be together; because, if they got tired of me, they might talk to one another, and laugh at my old ways behind my back."

Aww, is this chapter going to be a "Mrs. Jennings is a just a sweet lady really" showcase? ... I still wouldn't want to live with her though, I dunno if she'd let me have my social cooldown time.

"Lord bless me! how do you think I can live poking by myself, I who have been always used till this winter to have Charlotte with me."

... oh... she's just going to be lonely... :(

Also, my does she get along well with her son-in-law. She really ribs with Sir John like he is her own son.

Oh! It's London that Mrs. Jennings is taking them too. I was wondering what physical locale "near Portman Square" actually meant. Well, this is the most convenient location for having run-ins with the lads then. Willoughby and Brandon were both called to town on mysterious business weren't they? And Edward might be here too, that February visit with the Steeles that Lucy was so excited for.

Elinor was half-heartedly appealing to the cause of keeping their mother company as reason to turn down the invitation. Mama Dashwood ain't having it though, so they have no reason not to go. Peace and quiet to educate Margaret with everyone gone, and ample time to renovate rooms without disrupting people. Also, Marianne seemed like she kinda wanted to see town, possibly for Willoughby-related reasons. Yep, the Miss Dashwoods aren't getting outta this one.

Oh actually, Marianne really wants to go. Her countenance sunk as soon as Elinor tried to voice one last objection. My mind has immediately drifted to sudden onset of sad puppy look.

Marianne would like to go alone if Elinor won't go; Elinor is... not going to let that happen because as much as Marianne claims to be able to endure Mrs. Jennings' personality right now, in Mrs. Jennings' company it will probably be a bad time for all parties without Elinor also there reigning her in. Well, it doesn't matter anyway because Mama has made up her mind and they are both going.

Mama brings up Edward in a semi-romantic context again, which Elinor has been trying to wean her from for Reasons. Yeah, I get that. Elinor comments that she's perfectly indifferent to everyone else in Eddie's family besides himself. Apparently that's cause for astonishment in the other two? Not sure what that's about. Is she supposed to like the rest of Edward's family such that being indifferent to them is some kind of admittance? Or is it just a very impolite, un-Elinor statement to make?

With any luck, she won't run into Eddie because the trip will be over before February. Haha, this is narrative, there's no chance of that.

Oh no the Miss Steeles are still around. Welp.

Marianne's joy was almost a degree beyond happiness, so great was the perturbation of her spirits and her impatience to be gone.

Oh wow, I seriously underestimated how excited Marianne was to be on this trip. I think the narration was downplaying it earlier in the chapter, so I guess she was really bottling it in while Elinor was still disapproving of the idea. But now that Mama has commanded them to Go Have Fun, the stopper is unstopped. Pure unadulterated Marianne is out to play again! :D

It'll be good to have excited Marianne back! As much as I tend to disapprove of her general thoughts and attitudes, Elinor-style, I do enjoy her silly rom-antics. See what I did there? Haha, actually that simple dumb thought-slash-joke has put me in a more chipper mood than when I started.

Also, sorry this took a while again. I wish I could say that I've been busy, but it's more like I've had trouble managing myself/motivation for the past week. Also, I keep skipping out medication because I get up too late. Isn't it crazy how I get more things I want to do done when I take it, like today. ;>.>

Semester starts again on Monday, so I may start to get actually busier, but provided I don't manage to "lock" myself again the added routine will probably be a positive change.

[saltpepperbeard]

Do you think they [joshifer] only banged in Hawaii or is there any gif evidence of LA activities? Inquiring minds want to know...

…Wow, God. Getting an ask about Joshifer sex in 2019 really has me like-

So inquiring minds have definitely come to the right place, let me tell you lol. I am never NOT willing to talk Joshifer at any given point so hell yeah beebeeee~

ANYWAY, I’m a pretty firm believer that no, they didn’t just bang in Hawaii. There were two other major instances that had me raising my eyebrows so hard that they went up into my hairline tbh jdskldjkfhd, and those two instances would be Cannes (May 2014) and Mockingjay 1 Promo (November 2014).

Cannes because there was a literal article published that described how Jen and Josh acted at a Mockingjay After Party. And…I just…

As the party wound down, Lawrence grabbed Hutcherson by the hand (it was a friendly sort of hand-holding) and headed for the exit. Liam Hemsworth, who’d been hanging out with Robert Pattinson for most of the night, came over with a scowl and crossed arms to block their way. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, then broke into a grin and gave them big hugs. He stayed longer. Lawrence and Hutcherson headed into the night. Perhaps they had more hiccups to conquer. [x]

Still iconic after all of these years, man lmao. Because…HELLO THERE??? HI??? THEY LEFT A PARTY TOGETHER LATE AT NIGHT HAND IN HAND??? Like pfff what’s that going to lead to? Bible Studies? Brotherly/sisterly activities? I think the hell not, anon lmao. I’m not sure if it lead to sex necessarily, though of course I like to think so with my Joshifer-ass lmao, but I would assume there had to be some drunk cuddling or kissing or SOMETHING, my guy. Because, not to mention, from that same article-

There, she’d been sequestered with the rest of the cast in a VIP area, where she passed the time by almost-twerking to Missy Elliot’s “Work It” and backing Hutcherson into a corner with her dance moves, where he dropped into a chair and looked at her in awe as she ground her hips in the air around and over him.

She freaking gave Josh a lapdance. So, you know, ONLY COMPLETELY PLATONIC ACTIVITIES HERE. NOTHING SUS AT ALL lmao. And also-

-They left from the same hotel at the same time the following morning. And of course all the Joshifer Trashcans pointed out they were color-coordinated lmao. Not sure if that means anything either, but hey OF COURSE IT DOES WHY NOT.

And with the Mockingjay Part 1 Promo…Josh and Jen got sick with I believe Strep Throat. Only them. No one else in the cast or crew. Despite them all traveling together and spending their days with each other, Josh and Jen were the only ones to get sick, beech. I’ve said this before when I’ve talked about this instance in the past, but like…Strep Throat…is in the THROAT lmao. You’d think the most surefire way of spreading that would be through SALIVA exchange, yeah? Because, I had a VERY bad case of Strep when I was a smol bean, and no one in my family got it despite being in close proximity to me. 

SOOO UH LOL, LEADS ME TO BELIEVE THAT JOSH AND JEN WERE IN EVEN CLOSER PROXIMITY, YA FEEL. Again, does that necessarily point to sex? Eh, debatable. But because I’m a very firm believer that kissing/making out was involved, why would sex NOT be l m a o.

Also, Jen went on to this German Talkshow with Lima Bean (Josh didn’t because he was still sick af), and the host actually ASKED HER ABOUT THEIR SICKNESS/THOUGHT IT WAS SUS. AND SHE DIDN’T…DENY ANYTHING???

SHE ONLY LAUGHED LOL LIKE UHHHHHHH MKAY, JEN. WE CERTAINLY SEE THAT.

So yeah, those are definitely my biggies/the situations I always whip out for this type of ask occasion lol! I’m not sure if we have any concrete proof of sex happening in LA necessarily? Although, do you know Josh’s treehouse? The one he happens to have up for sale right now? Well-

We got a picture of Jen and Ve at said treehouse for some kind of party. And just…Jen dressed in a sheer croptop kind of shirt? WOULD YOU NOT MAKEOUT WITH HER/BANG HER? SEEMS FAKE LOL.

So I just jskdjskdsdsds. Joshifer throughout promo were confirmed to hang out with each other one on one, and confirmed to be physically affectionate with one another. I’m looking at you, Mockingjay Part 2 promo-

for the record josh kissing her still absolutely murders me to this day because she was almost always the one to instigate displays of affection so having him change things around and be the one to do that made me cry in public okay thank you

So I’m just. I’M JUST. SOMETHING had to have happened if you ask me. Because come on lol…COME ON; THEY WERE RIDICULOUS. I’m not sure if it was a brief relationship, a fuck-buddies kind of situation, or what, but like…SOMETHING went down. ie them on each other huehueeheufhdkjfhdjkfd

And yes yes I know, me explaining this in 2019 has me looking like-

But hey, when inquiring minds come a callin’, I DEFINITELY have to follow through lmao. So yes, anon, I do indeed believe that things happened outside of Hawaii. THEY KILLED US FAR MORE THAN JUST HAWAII.

[sarcasm-and-studying]

Kill Me Twice

    “Coraline?  Why are you running?”

    I skidded to a stop.  My dirty sneakers crunched leaves and twigs under their soles, snaps and crackles interrupting the natural rhythm of the forest.  My arms hung in midair and my chest stopped mid-breath as I froze, straining my ears for more signs of the person who had called my name.  

    I knew the voice and I knew the person behind it.  Her name emerged from my throat as she emerged from the forest - an all too familiar face on an all too familiar body.  

    “Emma?” I breathed, the word breaking through my lips and dribbling through the air.  

    Her raven hair, with trimmed bangs hanging half an inch above her eyebrows.  The shiny clip in the shape of a heart. That fluffy silver coat, which reflected the moon’s rays in the same way the moon reflected the sun’s - it almost seemed to give off a glow of its own.  Even in the thick night air, it was impossible not to recognize the person in front of me. 

    “Uhhh, are you okay?” Emma asked, tilting her head with a nervous laugh.  That chip in her tooth, the arch of her eyebrows, the way her head bobbed slightly when she talked…  Every tiny detail of her appearance, her mannerisms, her habits, were all reflected in the person standing before me.  

    “Why’d you start running?” she asked, an all too familiar note of disapproval in her voice.  “I was behind some trees, and I could see you even though you didn’t notice me. You could’ve called my name, but instead you took off running in the opposite direction.  Why would you do something like that?”

    I felt the spell of shock gradually lift from my body, my mind once again gaining the potential to control my limbs.  Surprising myself almost as much as I surprised Emma, I lurched forwards and wrapped my arms tightly around her torso, pressing my body to hers. 

“I’m really sorry!” I said. “I thought you were right behind me!  If I had known, I’d never have-”

“Geez, calm down,” she chuckled, reluctantly returning the hug.  “I was just confused. It’s not that big of a deal...”

She was warm, the way only a human being could emit warmth, and her breath came out in little clouds of steam next to my ear.   

My hands slid across the back of her shiny silver coat.  The shiny, smooth, unripped, clean, not covered in mud or dirt or blood silver coat.  

The person I was hugging wasn't Emma.

The real Emma was lying in a ditch a mile behind me, a knife wound in her back.  

I knew because I'd killed her. 

I released the hug, a shaky smile masking my thundering heart.  Was this a vengeful ghost, haunting me fifteen minutes after its death?  Did she forget how she died, or was she pretending to be friendly to me as some kind of sick mind game?  Did I imagine killing Emma, or was the Emma in front of me a hallucination? Or did some higher power decide to reverse time, giving me a second chance to not commit this heinous act?

    Well, clearly the higher power didn't know me well.

    "Emma?" I asked, a curious inflection in my voice.  My fingers slid deep into my coat pocket, where I had hidden my knife.  "Is it just me, or is there a weird blinking light behind those trees?"

    "Over there?" She asked, turning away from me to look in the direction I was pointing.  "No, I don't think so…"

    I slid the knife out of my pocket. 

.

    I sprinted through the woods, arms swinging wildly by my sides.  The only sounds around me were the slap of my sneakers on the leaf-covered ground and my own labored breathing.  I had to get out, get out of the woods before my actions caught up with me. I had to run until the nightmare was over.  

    I had killed her again.  I had stabbed her twice in the back and once in the neck; I'd stood over her lifeless body long after it stopped twitching.  Then I stabbed her again for good measure. She lay on the ground, unmoving and undoubtedly dead.

    "Coraline?  Why are you running?"

    But if she was dead then why was she standing in front of me?  Why were her eyes wide and shiny, her jacket clean, devoid of dirt or blood?  Why had she risen, once again, from the grave, and why did she say the same phrase with the same voice and same inflection?

    I waved my arms, my lips uttering a worried apology.  She smiled, slightly confused, and forgave me. We walked through the woods. I joked and she laughed.  I diverted her attention; she glanced away. I plunged my knife into her back.

 .

    "Coraline?  Why are you running?"

    I screamed in frustration.  Five times. That's how many times I'd heard her say that phrase.  I'd stabbed her, choked her, slammed a rock into her head and even once impaled her on a conveniently placed tree branch.  Yet no matter what I did, no matter how much blood I spilled or how long I waited until leaving her body, no matter whether I tried to dispose of the evidence or kept the bloody knife, no matter whether she was still in one piece or twenty, she still emerged, alive.  She still stood in front of me every single time, asking the same question in the same voice

    “Coraline?  What’s that?”

Blood splattered my jacket, and I hadn’t bothered to put away the knife.  I was tired of pretending, tired of acting like Emma’s loving friend in order to get her to let her guard down.

    "Why won't you die?" I said flatly, all pretenses aside.  I had to confront my problems head on if I ever wanted to escape this hellish cycle.  

    "Wh-what do you mean?" she stammered, taking a cautionary step backwards as I took a menacing one forward.  

    "Why won't you die?" I cried, flinging my arms.  "No matter what I do, no matter how or how many times I kill you,why do you keep coming back to life?"

    She shook her head, raven locks flying as tears of fear glistened on the corners of her eyes.  “What do you mean? You’ve never kil-”

    She stopped, narrowing her eyes as she inspected me, looking me up and down as if seeing me for the first time.  “Wait a second. You’re not Coraline.”

    "What?" I scoffed.  "Of course I am. Who else could I be?"

    She shook her head harder, her hair whipping back and forth across her face.  “No! You’re not Coraline. Why did I ever think you were Coraline?”

    What was she raving on about?  Was this some aftereffect of shock?  Was this a 'the real Coraline wouldn't do this' type of situation?  What a joke!

    Emma's eyes were wide, and sentences popped out of her mouth in bursts.  "Why did I ever think- You're not- You don't even look like her!"

    Don't look like her?  Of course I look like her?  Whatever I looked like was surely what Coraline was supposed to look like.  But what was Coraline supposed to look like? What did I look like?

    "Emma?" a new voice came from my left.  "Who is that- What is that in front of you?"

    We both turned to see a girl step out from the shade of the trees.  I had never seen her before in my life - yet a few seconds ago I was sure I looked exactly like she did.  She spoke with a voice I identified as my own, yet when I opened my mouth I realized we sounded entirely different.

    "Who are you?" I asked, my head spinning. "What's going on?"

    Coraline - the real Coraline - inched closer to Emma. As she moved, careful not to turn her back to me, Emma's eyes widened with a realization.  

    "Are you that urban legend?"

    "The what?"

    "The one about these woods," Emma said, and this time she was talking to Coraline and not me.  "It says that if you go here, you might meet a spirit that takes the form of someone you know and claim that you've died by their hand."

    "Is- is it dangerous?" Coraline asked as if I wasn't standing right there in front of them and couldn't hear everything.  Almost at the same time, both girls seemed to take in my blood-splattered jacket and my dirty knife. They locked eyes. Then they turned on their heels and took off.

    "Wait!" I shouted, the knife falling from my hand as I broke into a sprint behind them. "Come back!  Please, don't run away!"

    I had to find out more!  Did Emma's memories reset every time I killed her?  Did she really not remember every time she died? If I looked so different, then why did she believe I was Coraline?  Why did I believe I was Coraline? Why did I want to kill Emma? Was my entire existence a cruel joke by a higher power who dropped me off to meet people with a knife in my hand and the baseless motivation to kill them?  Why did I kill them?

    "Elliot?"

    I skidded to a stop.  My mind jerked to alertness, as if I had been woken up from a forgettable daydream.  Elliot… that name sounded so familiar. It must've been mine.  

    For a second, I wondered why the girls running in front of me had disappeared.  I wondered why I was in a different part of the forest. I wondered why it was a different time of day.

      Then those thoughts faded from my head as well, replaced by an entirely new reality.  

    "Elliot?" He was a guy in his mid-twenties, wearing a white scarf and a denim jacket. "What are you doing in these woods?"

    "Oh, just going for a run," I said, flashing him a nonchalant smile.  "I can't believe we ran into each other! What a coincidence!"

    It took all of my willpower to not let my true emotions show up on my face.  What was Jackson doing here, his scarf still a pristine shade of white instead of a dull mix of red and brown, his head still smooth and round, unwounded?

    After all, I had just killed him!

[justtheendoftheday]

Crawl (2019)

“It’s flooded. There’s alligators everywhere. Please send help.”

—————————————

While going to assist her father evacuate during a massive category 5 hurricane a woman winds up trapped by not only the storm, but also by a very ornery alligator that found its way into the basement.

—————————————

Fright: 2 / 5  Dangers of Climate Change

It’s much more of an action-thriller styled horror movie than a particularly frightening one. So it tends to trade more in building and releasing tension/excitement than in generating fright. Lots of jump scares though.

While it might have you gripping the edge of your seat at times, it probably won’t keep you up at night.

Although often the fear in a movie comes from you imagining what it would be like if those things were to happen to you. But since I am a dweller of the Midwest of the USA, I can honestly say that hurricanes and coming across an alligator in my basement are two things that I’ve never had to worry about.

BUT if you live somewhere where either of those things IS a possible concern, feel free to adjust my score accordingly.

Gore: 2.8 / 5  Gator Bites

As one might expect from a movie about gator attacks, you can expect to see some gator bites and a few randos being torn asunder. But honestly if it wasn’t for a couple of gory scenes involving a broken bone, I’d have given it a much lower score.

With that notable exception, the film is actually surprisingly light on gore and any of the handful of scenes involving heavier caliber gore are usually over pretty quickly.

Jump Scares: Frequent

This is one of those movies where if you suspect a scene is gearing up for a jump scare...you’re probably right.

Once things get rolling I’d say you can expect a jump scare every 10-12 minutes until you hit the credits.

—————————————

Review:

Crawl is a fun gator-filled hurricane romp with a strong understanding of the fundamentals of the action-thriller horror movie style. However, it frequently interrupts the thrill ride with its many attempts to shoehorn in some cliched sports/family drama.

Thoughts:

Does anyone else get secretly excited when they hear about an animal-attack horror movie that isn’t about sharks?

I’m just so tired of sharks!

What do all these filmmakers have against sharks anyway? (get a better mayor already, Amity Island!)

But alligators getting into your basement during an epic storm? Color me intrigued.

But for as jazzed as I was to see this one, I have to admit I left the theater with some mixed feelings. And judging from its other reviews, it would seem that I wasn’t the only one.

For me it boils down to this: Crawl is a film that absolutely nails the fundamentals of an enjoyable animal-attack action-thriller movie, yet tends to whiff on its attempts at delivering any sort higher drama. So while it isn’t as good as it could have been, it’s still pretty fun to see someone craft such a solid horror base.

I mean, there’s a lot to like here. The set up for the family drama is actually really well done. I thought Kaya Scodelario did a fantastic job as the leading lady. There are some wonderfully memorable moments and iconic shots that I love. And I just can’t help but be endeared to those big scaly babies of order Crocodilia.

But there I’d be, enjoying some quality Monkey Brain vs. Reptile Brain action, when the movie would suddenly hit the brakes in order to return to its shallow sports drama cliches. And it just always felt so forced.

Drama of any sort is a tricky little beast. You can’t half-ass it. If you want get into tangled web of interpersonal drama you gotta commit the time and energy to it. Gotta set that shit up, develop it, and let it grow into the story naturally. You can’t just play the usual cliché classics set list and then expect the audience to automatically feel something.

And to be fair, Crawl is far from the first movie to try to shoehorn some underdeveloped drama into their story. But because it’s an action-thriller, every forced father-daughter moment or over-dramatic Gotta give 110%!-sports cliche just wound up killing all their built up momentum.

(Also, this is nether here nor there, but I was also hoping that they would make some comments about climate change...and they never touched the topic directly.)

You know what? I’m actually struggling to thing of much to talk about with this one. It’s a pretty basic movie. You'll have to dive into the gritty details of it if you want to find the depth.

Which sounds like I’m ragging on it, but really I have no problem with a movie that first-and-foremost wants to be fun.

Crawl is just the type of movie where your first thoughts immediately go to its failures and it’s only when you allow yourself to past those failures, that you can appreciate all the wonderful things it did right.

Jeeez, that motivational speech? It was straight out of some sports movie! So awkward, amiright?…

Okay, but...but that part where the alligator ******** and so she **************?...that was friggin’ awesome.

—————————————

—————————————

Content warnings: An animal is killed (a croc) [but the dog remains unharmed!], there’s a bit where a broken bone is set.

After-credits scene?: None

—————————————

Directed by: Alexandre Aja

[The Hills Have Eyes (2006), Piranha 3D (2010), Horns (2013)]

Written by: Michael Rasmussen & Shawn Rasmussen

[The Ward (2010)]

Edited by: Elliot Greenberg

[Quarantine (2008), As Above, So Below (2014), Fantastic Four (2015)]

Cinematography by: Maxime Alexandre

[The Crazies (2010), The Voices (2014), The Nun (2018), Shazam! (2019)]

Country of Origin: USA

[with help from Serbia and Canada]

Language: English

Setting: Coral Lake, Florida, USA

[pretty sure Coral Lake isn’t a real town in Florida?]

If you enjoyed this you might also like: Lake Placid (1999), The Shallows (2016), Piranha 3D (2010)

“Apex predator all day!”

[egsreactions]

Single Riders Will Be Paired

Idea for this one came from this prompt. Definitely an AU, wherein Susan and Diane met earlier than in canon.

Diane’s date shrank away a little. “Oh, come on. It sounds like a better idea than puking our guts out all day, doesn’t it?”

“First off - if all it takes to get you to throw up for eight hours straight is riding one thrill ride... ew. Second, I’m not going to neck on Pirates of Lake Michigan.”

“Why not? It’s dark, there’s plenty of room between the boats...” He tried to sidle up to her again. Diane stepped back.

“There are security cameras over every square inch of the ride.”

“They won’t see-”

“Infrared cameras. Second, do you really get turned on around the smell of water that probably hasn’t been changed since this park opened?!”

“I-”

“Look, you want to ride that, feel free. I’m going on something else.”

“O-okay? Uh - where should we meet up?”

“School. Maybe. Later.” She stormed off, pulling her phone out of her bag. The Midwestern Kingdom was a weird park - it had started out as a blatant ripoff of Disneyland, a la Nara Dreamland, and had grown into its own thing in the seventies. The odd ‘WE CAN’T SAY DISNEY BUT THINK DISNEY’ elements were interspersed through thrill rides that were too odd to be picked up by King’s Island or Cedar Point. And while it was normally just open in the summer, it did open its doors for a ‘spring preview’ one week a year. 

Naturally, two thirds of her school was there, despite the lingering chill in the air. 

NoBottleBlonde: Did you make it out here?

If Lucy was there, she could get a ride home with her. Odds were slim, given what she’d said, but-

XenaWasRight: Nope. XenaWasRight: Car’s still broken down.  XenaWasRight: And I never knew fixing it would be this fun.  NoBottleBlonde: Fun? Seriously?  XenaWasRight: Hey, what can I say, the company makes the activity. XenaWasRight: Gotta go. We’re lifting the engine out.  NoBottleBlonde: What? What company? NoBottleBlonde: Lucy? NoBottleBlonde: I WANT DEETS LATER. Well. Crap. Good that Lucy was having a date she was enjoying for once, even if ‘fixing her car’ wasn’t technically a date, but... that left her alone in the park. Unlesssss... NoBottleBlonde: Hey, are you and your dork friends here? TrillHitchhiker: I choose to take that term as a compliment. And yes.  NoBottleBlonde: YES. Okay, my date turned out to be a real creep. Mind if I hang with you guys?  TrillHitchhiker: Oh no. I am terribly offended. How dare you suggest such a thing. Gasp. I think I have a case of the vapors.  NoBottleBlonde: :P  TrillHitchhiker: We’re split up at the moment. Most of us are in one line or another, but we’re meeting in 30 minutes at the entrance to El Torqueno.  NoBottleBlonde: I’m heading there now. Can’t believe that guy was too wimpy to even try riding it... TrillHitchhiker: ...the vast majority of our party is too.  NoBottleBlonde: PFFT. I’m trying it. See you there soon.  She closed down the phone and headed for the new ride. It was an intimidating coaster. A bright orange steel thing that wound in and out of ambiguously-industrial theming. Each pair of seats were also able to rotate around end over end. It was fast. It was intense. And - yes, if you had a weak stomach... but she was made of sterner stuff. She could manage it.  Right? Right.  The line wasn’t especially interesting. She did enjoy the fact that they were at least trying to build suspense, letting the line cut past several stretches of track, so you could hear the screams and roar of the ride and really soak in what was going to happen. She didn’t notice the sign until she was in sight of the boarding platform.  Single riders will be paired.  Oh. Great.  

She looked around rapidly, trying to make sure the creep wasn’t there. No. No, he hadn’t been clever enough to try to pull that. Good. So she had to ride with a stranger, but that wouldn’t matter much. It was just one ride, and then she’d be with her... estranged niece  Cousin by blood friend and her friend’s friends. God. So much easier to ignore the blood relation. The last few minutes of wait were short, and then she was there, waiting on the platform alone as the operator herded her to a seat right at the back, and - then waved over another girl about her age. Shorter. More pear shaped, though she definitely made it work. Also blonde. She said something, though it was drowned out by the sound of the ride and the music over the PA. Diane just shrugged in return. The other girl grinned, rolled her eyes, and gestured to the seat. In they went, and the harnesses clicked into place... and that was it. A minute passed. Two. And then they were heading for the lift hill. The girl next to Diane let out a whoop.  “AWESOME! I’ve been waiting for this for a YEAR!”  “Seriously? Are you that much of a coaster junkie?”  “Maybe? I dunno. I mean, I only ever go here...” Diane craned her head around. The other girl gave a hapless shrug,  barely visible in the harness, still grinning. Diane just laughed once. Eh, what the hell. She could drop the thin veneer of self control and just enjoy this for once. Her enthusiasm was infectious. They crested the lift hill, and for a moment they were all screaming, and then - DOWN. The speed was everything, plunging them through a canyon of rust and gray, before it twisted to the side, and then they were flipping backwards, making it impossible to see where they were going - and the disorientation, the shock, the sheer adrenaline was so good, so pure, so cleansing, that Diane found herself screaming along with everyone else, venting her nerves and her delight and the sheer sensory overload of it.  Somewhere around the cobra roll, she found herself grabbing the other girl’s hand. She had been sort of flailing, and - wow, she had a HELL of a grip, and - she barely registered that for the rest of the ride. Not until they lurched to a stop in front of the station, and everyone started cheering. They were not quite upright, and the cars took a moment to spin them slowly into place before they advanced to the platform to unload with a loud hiss.  The bars were lifted. They stumbled out, dizzy and laughing and flushed, and staggered towards the exit.  “Oh. My. Fuzzy. GOD. That was amazing!” The shorter girl blurted. “That... that was better than I hoped for!”  “I KNOW, RIGHT?” Diane was trying not to gush. “I swear, I - I nearly blacked out for a second. I - holy - frick I can’t even think straight right now.” She stumbled, and nearly fell, only to slump over on the shorter girl, who burst into giggles again - as someone cleared their throat nearby.  “Well. I was going to tell you that we were waiting for Diane, but you found her. Ah - Diane, Sarah. Sarah, Diane.” Susan was standing at the bottom of the ramp, next to Justin, Elliot, and... well... the whole rest of Susan’s little crew. A curvy black girl (Grace, that - that was her name, right?) gave her a MASSIVE smile, grabbing the arm of another girl with a mop of purple hair. She was squeeing in an almost inaudible pitch. “Yeah, yeah, we rode together. You... you don’t know what you’re missing. I swear, I’m still high off the vertigo.” Sarah nudged Diane upright, and - that was when both of them realized they were still holding hands. And that they had been clutching each other so hard that they probably had bruises from each other’s fingertips.  Oh.  Oh.  That... probably shouldn’t have gotten a blush out of Diane, but- “So which ride’s next? We gotta pick something a little tamer for these guys, but - we all up for the Steel Noodle?” Sarah didn’t let go. If anything, she gave her hand another squeeze before pulling her towards the next ride.  She really had to send that creep a thank you letter. A severely passive aggressive thank you letter, but a thank you all the same. (A/N: The roller coaster type in question is probably nonexistent, but is based on the same concept as a ‘4th Dimension’ roller coaster, albeit with more traditional coaster elements.) Fic by Mod Zee. 

[linaseraphina13]

Preview of Chapter 2 (that pjo au i haven’t updated in like a month lol)

Call dreamed of the stars.

“You should get inside. It’s late,” Alastair’s voice floated out from the porch, batting moths away from his face. Call just hummed. He felt comfortable lying on his back in the grass, fireflies darting in and out of his vision. He didn’t want to ever get up.

Looking up at the night sky, at the moon and the millions of stars and that one airplane blinking in the distance, Call wished he could fly away and live there forever. It would be better than down here in boring old Enoree, where the old people were racist and the kids took pleasure in wailing on those unfortunate enough to look the way Call did. Like they could beat the Mexican out of him until he started looking, acting, and talking like them.

The grass rustled and Alastair settled down beside him, bones creaking and sighing like his joints needed grease. Sometimes Call thought his dad was like one of the many old cars he worked on. Rusty, broken down, and perpetually covered in motor oil.

“What’s wrong,” Alastair asked gruffly. His voice was always gruff. And tinted with a slight accent that made him sound like a bad guy in an old Western film.

Call just shrugged. He didn’t like to share his emotions that much. He was like his father that way. “Nothin’. Just stargazing.”

“Stargazing,” he repeated at length, then let out a sigh. He did that a lot when he talked to Call, like he was trying to figure out the mystery that was his son. “You’re just like your mother. Always looking at places you can never be. Always looking for a place to escape to.”

They didn’t talk about his mom much. Call picked at a loose thread in his jeans. “Do you think she’s watching over us right now?”

“What, from the stars?” Call nodded. He chuckled. “Probably. That seems like something she would do, huh?”

Call didn’t know if that was something she would do. He didn’t know anything about his mother, who left when he was a baby. There were no pictures, no clothes, no evidence that she’d even been in his life at all. Sometimes he wondered if she was dead.

But he knew better. Alastair didn’t talk about her much, but when he did, it was always in the present tense. Never past tense. Like he expected her to walk back through the door any day now.

He cleared his throat like he was gearing up to say something important. Call waited patiently. He uttered, “You came home with a busted lip.”

It was a statement. Not a question.

“Yeah.” He ran a tongue over the cut, which had already scabbed over. “Some kid tripped me in the hallway. Hit my face on the water fountain.”

Alastair hummed. “You kick his ass?”

“I got my knuckles wet before I punched him. Like you said,” Call told him. “It stung him real bad. He cried like a baby.”

Most fathers would frown at this type of behavior, but Alastair just nodded resolutely. “Good. You make sure those punks know what happens when they mess with you.” His gaze softened. “You need ice or something?”

“Nah. Doesn’t hurt anymore.” This was a lie. It still throbbed every time he talked, but Call didn’t want to seem weak in front of his father. “Besides,” he grinned wickedly. “Battle scars.”

“Battle scars.” He clapped a hand on his son’s shoulder and then stood with some difficulty. “Just don’t get into anymore fights. If you get expelled again I’m going to have to send you off to that Catholic school you hate so much.”

“We’re not even Catholic,” he muttered, but he stood as well. He knew a threat when he heard one. It was an unspoken warning, not born from malice, but more because it was the only option they had left. Call hated that he was causing his father to spend so much money on him, whether it be from medical bills or paying for stuff he’d broken, but his dad never complained. Not once. Call was lucky to have him.

“Let’s get inside,” said Alastair, and led his son into their tiny farmhouse. The stars twinkled above the clouds. Call liked to imagine that meant his mom was winking at him.

Five hours later Call woke up to utter chaos.

He heard yelling, footsteps, the obvious sound of panic as people rushed back and forth. Shadows danced across his eyelids. Call felt unnaturally cold, like the air was crisper than it should’ve been.

“...can’t believe this,” a voice was saying quite loudly, clearly vexed. “Like, gods, six Empousa? It’s a miracle we even made it out alive! What next, all three Furies and a flock of Stymphalian birds?”

Call’s head hurt. His leg hurt. But, most of all, his stomach felt like someone had ripped it open, laid his organs out, and put them in ascending alphabetical order. The pain was unbearable. He felt like he was going to die.

“Is he going to be okay?,” another voice asked anxiously, this one closer than the others. Someone gave a response, but it sounded muffled to him, like his ears were filled with cotton.

A hand pressed to his forehead and Call reflexively smacked it away. More mumbling.

“Unclaimed. Greek. Moderately powerful,” a third voice muttered, then went softer as it addressed him, “Hey little guy, it’s alright. How are you feeling? Can you look at me please?”

Call opened his eyes.

Through the foggy vision, he could see an unfamiliar teenage boy bending over him; older, blond, who sort of looked like what you would get if you brought one of those Greek statues to life and gave it a military haircut. He also seemed to be covered in some sort of weird yellow blanket.

Wait, no. Not a blanket. As his vision cleared, Call came to the sudden realization that he was, in fact, surrounded by a pair of giant golden wings.

“Oh, thank goodness. You lost quite a lot of blood there,” said the boy, whom said giant golden wings belonged to. And it might’ve been because he still couldn’t see clearly and because the setting sun was providing a lot of good lighting here, but Call could’ve sworn up and down that the boy in front of him looked like a divine being of God coming to take him away to the gates of Heaven themselves.

“Are you an angel?,” Call asked stupidly.

“Uh.” The winged blond jolted a little, like a very startled bird.

“Oh, give me a break,” someone else said, pushing themselves through until they were standing directly in front of Call, and shoved something under his nose. “Here. Eat this, it’ll make you less stupid.”

Call instinctively shied away. “What is that?,” he slurred. “A pot brownie?”

“A pot brownie,” came the incredulous whisper. “Gods above. Kid, just take it.”

Before he knew what was happening, rough hands were shoving a square of food into his mouth and he choked on it before he remembered to chew. An explosion of flavor danced across his tongue, the distinct taste of black coffee and his father’s homemade pecan pie filling his senses. Normally the two flavors together would be terrible, but right now it tasted like the best thing in the world.

He coughed and sat up, feeling marginally less sore. “What was that?”

“Ambrosia, food for the gods. Think you can form a coherent sentence now, tough guy?”

Call found that he could. The pain in his stomach had somehow lessened until it was a barely tangible ache in his lower abdomen. He struggled to take in his surroundings.

He noticed that there were two boys in front of him; one tall and blond (the one with wings) wearing a purple t-shirt and some weird looking armor, and the other one very short and wearing an orange t-shirt that clashed horribly with his bright red hair. While the blond one was looking at him in worry, the other had just stood up and was scowling at Call like he’d personally offended his mother.

“Ah. The zombie lives,” orange t-shirt said flatly. “You drool in your sleep, did you know that?”

“Who-” Call coughed and sat up. “Who are you?”

The boy snorted. “Good question. Counter argument: who are you?”

Call felt the fabric of his clothes shift and scrape against something on his stomach. Panicked, his hand flew to his stomach, but he was surprised to find it no longer bleeding from an open wound, although there was a fair amount of dried blood on his uniform. From the rips in the fabric he could see three scabbed over stitches going up his abdomen.

Wings said, “Hope you don’t mind us stitching you up. You were loosing a lot of blood and we didn’t have enough time to take you to a hospital. But Elliot did a pretty nice job, so it shouldn’t scar.”

Call blinked. That probably wasn’t safe. “Uh. Thanks?”

Elliot, the redhead, harrumphed. “Yeah, well, next time if you’re going to bleed out, try doing it somewhere far away from us.”

I’ll have this chapter out soon, I’ve just been having a bit of writer’s block with this^^^ one scene. Everything else is finished tho lol

[amorremanet]

10 facts about meme: Lucy? And Adelaide, if you don't mind doing two?

send me one of my oc’s and i tell you ten facts about them

This is the shitty, “I fell asleep instead of doing this last night, and then, when I was almost fucking done, trying to make tumblr instant messenger stop doing something made it decide to click over somewhere else, and Firefox apparently doesn’t let the Lazarus extension work anymore, so I lost everything and am completely skimming out of frustration because the original was detailed and cool, and I lost basically all of it” version

LUCY

1. Has never completed a Pokémon game with a grass or water starter. She just doesn’t bond with them as much as she does with the fire starters, and any time she tries to pick a grass or water starter, she inevitably gives up, restarts, and picks the fire starter instead.

2. Since she turned 18, she’s made a point of giving blood as often as possible, because she’s type-O negative (the universal donor), and the Red Cross is pretty much always running short on blood, which can leave a lot of people totally screwed when they need to get transfusions.

3. Doesn’t believe in astrology and dismisses most of things in that vein as a cold-reading scam that’s based on exploiting people’s ability to project themselves onto anything…… but she does have an interest in dream interpretation.

4. She finds recipes confusing, and is even more befuddled by the Food Network and, “how to make [x baked goods]” videos on youtube, to the point that she finds them more stressful than getting a, “We need to talk” text from her parents. And yet, she is not confused by instructions in a chemistry lab.

5. She loves her red hair, but hates being called, “ginger.” It’s not that she thinks the word is offensive or anything; she just thinks that it sounds weird and slightly disgusting.

6. One of her favorite forms of, “teenage rebellion” was watching televangelists (or more accurately, having them on while she did other stuff because it’s really easy for Lucy to tune them out), which Lucy wouldn’t have liked so much if she’d actually paid attention to any of them (because of how televangelists exploit their viewers’ pain and suffering, get rich off of it, and don’t have to pay taxes on most of that money because they call it, “religious donations”) — but it did successfully annoy her very Catholic parents and very Catholic, “he’s a legit priest and everything” uncle.

7. A horror movie can be as political or politically coded as it wants. Unless it does something truly novel with the genre, like Get Out, then Lucy will probably just roll her eyes, complain about how many people value, “edginess” over quality, and then go watch The Great Mouse Detective for the umpteenth time. It’s not even that she gets squicked by horror movies, because she stops at dismissing all of them as edgelord garbage and doesn’t give them a chance.

8. She has even less patience for the films of Christopher Nolan, and literally the only one that she doesn’t go in too hard on is The Dark Knight, which only gets any consideration because Heath Ledger died not that long after making it, in ways that were pretty heavily associated with the movie in popular culture.

Not that she really cares about Heath Ledger, or even about the taboo on speaking ill of the dead, but she figures that he isn’t Ronald Reagan levels of terrible, or worse, so it’s easier to just not get into it with people over Heath Ledger when all that she wanted to say was that The Dark Knight isn’t actually that great

She will, however, talk shit about Ronald Reagan pretty much any time she’s given an opportunity, and especially if her Mom and Dad are around (because they were big Reaganites, back in the day, and annoying them with her hatred of the Gipper keeps them from paying attention to things like how her, “best friend” Sara Grace is actually her girlfriend)

9. Her answer to the question of whether she prefers cats or dogs will probably be something like, “iguanas” because she hates the assumption that it’s not possible to love cats and dogs more or less equally, but she also has better things to argue with people about.

10. She can’t whistle, she’s not really a very good dancer, and the last time she tried to tie a cherry stem in a knot with her tongue, she wound up swallowing it.

ADELAIDE

1. At 5’11”, Addie is taller than her big brother and their Mom (who are both 5’10”), and when standing up as best man when Max and Linda got married, she didn’t try to make him feel short, but she did wear a nice pair of heels and didn’t really go out of her way not to make him feel short, either.

2. By all rights, Addie probably should’ve been diagnosed with ADHD a while ago, but because her childhood and adolescence lasted from about 1986-2000 (when she turned 18), and because in 2017, ADHD is still badly misunderstood and under-diagnosed in AFAB kids, Addie got missed and made it to 33, thinking that all of her ADHD symptoms are just personal quirks or failings.

3. Her favorite color is purple. The darker the shade, the better.

4. Her ability to interpret song lyrics is often questionable. Like, on one hand, she’s totally made the mistake of hearing, “There’s a bathroom on the right” instead of, “There’s a bad moon on the rise” during the chorus of Creedence Clearwater Revival’s “Bad Moon Rising”

—and on the other hand, she completely missed that most of Missy Elliot’s “Work It” is explicitly about cunnilingus until Pete asked her what the Hell she thought the lyric, “Go downtown and eat it like a vulture” was referring to, especially given its proximity to Ms. Elliot talking about shaving her chocha. (All Addie has to say for herself is that she got caught up on the, “Girls, girls, get that cash / If it’s 9 to 5 or shakin’ your ass” verse.)

She also thought that Spice Girls were singing about group sex in “Wannabe,” rather than singing about making sure that your significant other can get along with your gal pals, and she kept thinking this until mid-September 2012.

5. As far as her family knows, Addie almost got arrested on her 18th birthday and had to run from the cops while she and a few friends were kinda drunk and screwing around in New York City. What really happened was that her birthday was on a Saturday, so they signed themselves out of school for the weekend, went to NYC, and saw the revival of Jesus Christ Superstar because her parents bought them tickets.

Then, they used fake ID’s to get some alcohol and got kinda drunk. Then, while they were screwing around in Brooklyn instead of going to cousin Jeremy’s place and crashing for the night, they wound up going by a gay bar, where Addie tripped over her own feet and got caught by a cute butch lesbian who happened to be dressed as a sexy cop for a themed party at said gay bar and had gone outside for a smoke break.

Then, one of Addie’s friends mistook this poor woman for a real cop and insisted that they run, and despite putting it together in the cold, sober light of day that there had been no actual danger, Addie told Sebastian the, “We so totally almost got arrested” story because she thought it sounded cooler, and at this point, it’s been 15 years, and she doesn’t see a point in correcting her family when her younger cousins get the, “Don’t get too rowdy on your 18th birthday or you may end up running from the cops like Adelaide” cautionary tale.

6. She would probably try to play real-world Quidditch, if she could get anyone to play with her, but that’s not going to happen, because everyone who knows her also knows that Addie is competitive as fuck, and that playing “muggle Quidditch” with her is a good way to get at least mildly injured.

7. She can see where the dislike that a lot of people in her life have for the All-Stars comes from, but personally, Addie doesn’t buy into it herself. She doesn’t really care to defend them, either, but at this point, she feels like most of the world’s problems can’t be solved with super-strength or heat vision, and they’re more complicated than the All-Stars’ image would allow them to handle, so it’s best to see the All-Stars as entertainers, rather than actual heroes.

Not that she begrudges anyone their annoyance with the fact that the All-Stars make, “we are actual heroes” a cornerstone of their so-called “brand,” but if you ask Addie, it’s not all that much different from how U.S. politicians lie up one side and down the other about basically everything, and how much of U.S. politics is increasingly little more than a theatre spectacle to cover up what’s actually going on

Oddly enough, Addie is accidentally on to something with that, because a lot of the supervillains in this universe are not truly participating in any shadowy conspiracy…… but they are being manipulated by members of one, and alternately being used as a source of talking points, or as distractions, so that the folks in said shadowy conspiracy (who are a mix of mutants and not) can push through their own agendas and try to secure their own power at the expense of anyone who gets in their way

Not that it’s really here or there at the moment, but this is totally going to bite them in the ass, partly from the people they’ve been exploiting and screwing over for decades putting shit together and pushing back, and partly because they decide to bank on installing a puppet who isn’t as easily controlled or as easily made to serve their agendas as they think. Anyway, as I was saying.

8. If Adelaide hadn’t gone into the family business and started vying with Max to see who’s going to become CEO when their Dad retires, she probably would’ve gone into advertising. If not that, she most likely would’ve gone to law school.

However, despite the fact that her Mom and several of her cousins are lawyers, Addie’s notions about how being a lawyer works are mostly derived from Legally Blonde, Ally McBeal, and Law and Order: SVU, so it might be a good thing that she has no idea what she’d actually want to do at law school.

9. Popular wisdom holds that she only isn’t the worst driver out of her siblings because Sebastian is the one who should’ve racked up multiple DUI charges by now, by all rights shouldn’t have his license anymore, and rarely uses it these days anyway because he, “doesn’t have PTSD, he just doesn’t like driving okay, it kinda freaks him out” (…which it does because of the PTSD that he allegedly doesn’t have but that’s another matter)

Addie holds that this popular wisdom is misogynistic bullshit being passed off as familial teasing, because actually, she’s a much better driver than all three of her brothers (with both cars and motorcycles, though only she and Seb have ever driven one of those, so it’s a little unfair to Max and Ambrose)

—and she may not know how to fix more complicated car problems, but she can at least get a better grasp on what might be wrong than, “I don’t know, it keeps making a thunka thunka thunka sound if you go above 60 mph” and she has more than once fixed something for her brothers that turned out to be something like, “You were driving with the parking brake on, dumb-ass”

10. Her go-to karaoke night songs are Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” and Rick Springfield’s “Jessie’s Girl” — the latter of which would be funnier to Adelaide if she’d intended to sound hella bi when she first started doing it, rather than picking it because she was kinda drunk and knew all the words, then getting really into singing it and having no conscious idea where those emotions were coming from

[shinichirosbabymama]

A/N: I’m doing that economical thing again but hey ho. This is solid proof that I need to get laid tbh. Very smutty. Mature content warnings apply.

 You sucked your teeth idly as your gaze bored into the computer screen in front of you. Your office was quiet save for the sounds of typing and the occasional hushed cough. You reclined back into your uncomfortable office chair, as if waiting for something to happen to distract you before you submerged yourself in work again. 

Almost on cue your phone vibrated on the desk next to you, making you jump. You tilted your head to the side to read the message illuminated on the screen. Your chest fluttered slightly when you saw Elliot's name. 

You coming over later?

The words were stark and you imagined them tumbling from Elliot's lips suddenly if he were there in person. Another text came through. 

Missed you.

You'd been away for the last week visiting family and hadn't had chance to see Elliot before heading back to work. It was very simplistic, but it made you smile nonetheless. Elliot very often tiptoed around you. He was ignorant to all of this when you first started this thing you had but he soon realised he couldn't just demand your attention whenever he wanted it. Deep down you knew he could do exactly that. 

Something about the emotional undertone of his message stirred something within you. You imagined him whispering the words against your skin later on with his hands all over you, completely relaxed to your touch and heady with need. 

You snatched up the phone before your thoughts could run away any further and fired off a reply. 

I missed you too. And I'm going to show you just how much later.

It took Elliot a few minutes to reply. You wondered briefly if you'd flustered him but realised it took more than a little flirting over text to draw a reaction out of Elliot. Eventually your phone went off again.

What do you mean by that?

Did he want you to speculate? Or did he require clarification? You bit your lip as you typed and deleted and re-typed a response several times until you settled on one.

I'm pretty wound up after a week so I was hoping you could relieve me. You're very good at that.

You drummed your fingers on the desk distractedly as you waited for a response. Your mind was intoxicated with thoughts of Elliot now. You imagined his full lips slack and his brow furrowed as his hips met against yours - you could almost feel the hard muscle of his thighs hitting against your ass. 

You jumped again when your phone vibrated this time, biting your lip as you checked the message tentatively. 

I'm at work so we shouldn't...but I kind of like it. Can't wait.

Ever the wordsmith, you thought as you held back a delirious laugh. You needed to rile him, in the same way he'd inadvertently done to you. You stood up from your desk, trying to ignore the slight tremor in your legs as you picked up your phone and made your way to the bathroom. 

Once inside the cubicle you paced for a few moments wondering if you should be doing this - it was undiscovered territory with Elliot but you didn't want to turn down the opportunity to really rile him. 

You looked around the basic toilet cubicle - it was hardly the most alluring of spots but you had to make do with the limited privacy you had. You quickly unbuttoned your blouse, trying out a couple of different angles with the front-facing camera of your phone. It took a few minutes to find the right angle but the thought of Elliot's (probable) reaction spurred you on. 

Eventually you had two photos to send - one bra on, one bra off. You felt a little self-conscious about your face being in both of them but you looked surprisingly good. Your makeup had survived the office environment well that day and your eyes looked sultry and your lips fuller as they were slightly parted. Plus you trusted Elliot. If anything he was overly safe about this kind of thing. Not the kind of guy to just leave his phone lying around. 

Before you could think about it any longer you'd sent the pictures off with no text to accompany them. For a few seconds you stood staring dumbly at his phone, expecting a reply straight away but when there wasn't one you quickly re-dressed yourself and left the bathroom. 

2 minutes turned into 20. And then 2 hours. You were beyond annoyed by this point considering you'd put yourself out there like that. The space around you grew noisy as you tapped away at the keyboard aggressively. You couldn't decide who you were more annoyed at. Yourself or Elliot. Maybe he didn't even like you anymore. 

Finally the end of work rolled around and stood up, roughly putting your jacket on as you heard your phone ping. You froze and looked down at the screen which displayed a simple message.

Come straight over.

Was he for real? You snatched up the phone and checked through the messages just in case you might have missed one earlier. But there was nothing. No references to the pictures you'd sent him.

You thought about blowing him off altogether but you were still annoyed so you decided to give Elliot a piece of your mind and head to his apartment. 

Despite your initial feelings you did find yourself softening a little as you rocked with the movement of the subway train. Maybe Elliot hadn't known how to react. It was a bit harsh of you to blow up at him without explanation. And after a week of not sleeping next to him you had missed him. A lot. 

The apartment was already open when you arrived so he must have seen you arrive but said nothing. You felt oddly apprehensive as you climbed the stairs of his apartment building. You pushed on the apartment door which opened slowly and entered, letting it fall shut behind you. 

Elliot was seated at his desk typing away as usual as if he hadn't noticed you enter. You felt a little hurt at that but pressed on regardless. 

'Hey...' You sauntered over to where he was sat, running your finger tips across his shoulder but quickly drawing away when he tensed up. You thought he had abandoned that habit with you. 

'Yo...' Elliot responded, his voice distant as he continued typing. You couldn't make out what was on the screen save for some rolling code. 

'What's up? I thought you said you missed me.' You tried to keep your tone light but you're stomach was starting to cramp a little with worry. 

'I did but you've pissed me off.' Elliot's shoulders were completely tense now and you took a step back. You weren't afraid of him but his behaviour was abnormal to say the least. 

'What do you mean?'

'Those pictures Y/N.' Elliot stood up and his desk chair spun a little as he paced away towards his kitchen area. You felt your face heat up with embarrassment. 

'I didn't think it would make you angry.' You shot back hotly, folding your arms tightly over your chest. You felt ashamed now and mad that he'd made you feel that way.

'Don't you realise how irresponsible that is?' Elliot's cold tone made your eyes water as he spoke. You looked away from him and pointedly at the floor, trying to focus on your anger rather than your embarrassment. 

'Well it's my responsibility! You don't get to dictate what I do with my body.' You snapped, nibbling at your lower lip. 'I wish I'd never sent them to you now anyway.' 

Elliot's annoyed expression continued to bore into you. His pupils were slightly dilated which made his eyes look darker. You briefly wondered if he'd taken anything.

'I wish I'd never received them. But only because I don't want someone else to get their hands on them.'

'Oh whatever Elliot. Why don't you just admit that you're not feeling it anymore?'

Elliot's brow furrowed, his frustration evident. 'Feeling what? People have their lives ruined by this shit Y/N. I just want you to be safe.' 

You felt beyond stupid and upset now, trying to ignore the tears pricking your eyes as grew more and more defensive. 'I am safe and I don't need lecturing from you. If you don't want me then just admit it.' 

With that you took that it was your cue to leave and made your way towards the door. Elliot stepped forward quickly and grabbed your wrist - although his touch was very delicate and he let go as soon as you stopped to look at him.

'Look I didn't mean to grab hold of you but I'm sorry okay? I was just fucking worried. I've seen some horrible shit.' 

You avoided his eye, unable to conjure up a decent response to give him. The tension between the two of you was still tightly wound and unpredictable and you didn't want to erupt again. 

'And if you must know...' Elliot mumbled, his eyes shifting towards the far wall rather than your face. '...you have no idea what you do to me.'

'What do you mean?' You replied in little more than a whisper, feeling the space between your legs flush slightly and mix weirdly with the anger which had been radiating off you only seconds earlier.

'That stuff earlier just set me off. I tried to fucking - jesus, I tried to get off at work but obviously I couldn't.' Elliot's cheeks looked slightly flushed now and his jaw was taught as he averted his gaze from you. You throbbed at the thought of him getting off - or rather trying to get off - to you. Images of Elliot's tensed features as he fisted at his cock danced across your brain as you bit your lower lip.

'Should I go?' The words left your mouth as though they were a dare, suspended and almost taunting. 

'No.' Elliot croaked and stepped towards you. His touch was always clumsy and awkward at first - he needed a moment to recalibrate. He grabbed you by the waist, you could feel the hard tips of his fingers digging into your ribs and it hurt but you didn't complain. You kind of liked it.

You made the first move to kiss - you knew your kisses turned Elliot into a squirming mess. Surprisingly he got the upper-hand as he pushed his lips against yours roughly. You stopped dead still, breath catching in your throat when you felt his tongue tease at your bottom lip. Just as you opened your mouth to allow his tongue in further he bit down on your bottom lip. That made you jump and it was kind of sore but insanely hot. You whined softly, hands fisting themselves in Elliot's hoodie as he sucked your lip. 

When you pulled apart you were gasping - you could feel your underwear sticking to you from where you'd grown insanely wet already. Elliot looked equally flushed, perhaps even a little surprised at himself as his tongue touched his swollen lips.

'That is unlike you.' Was all you could mutter lamely. Out of the corner of your eye you could see that your hand was tremoring slightly.

'You don't like it?' There was a hint of anxiety to Elliot's voice now. As lovers you were still so unsure of yourselves - each other's boundaries included.

'Actually I'd like some more.' You tried to sound teasing but instead you stuttered slightly. Elliot's expression darkened again to how he'd looked earlier when you first arrived. 

'Good because this isn't an act. I'm still pissed at you.'

'For getting you frustrated?' 

'You fucking know why.' Elliot snapped and made his way over to his desk chair where he sat. Before you had to chance to move he was unbuckling his belt and roughly pushing his jeans down to his ankles. Elliot hissed quietly as he took his cock out of his boxers, it was flushed and rock hard. Elliot looked down, his lips pursed as he wiped his fingers over the wet tip a few times before beginning to stroke himself lazily. When he looked up he raised his eyebrows at you. 

'Come here.'

You swallowed hard and moved towards him. Your movements felt mechanical - you were pretty sure you were still in shock at Elliot's sudden change in demeanour and it was making your head spin. 

By the time you'd kneeled down in front of Elliot - noting the discomfort of the cheap wooden apartment flooring under your knees - you could hear the quiet wet noises coming from Elliot's cock as he stroked himself and his voice was strained as if holding back a grunt as he spoke. 

'I want you to...please.' The 'please' came out as Elliot's breath caught in his throat and you knew he was still there, your Elliot - behind the anger and arousal of the man in front of you. You delicately placed a hand over Elliot's, prising it away from himself as your mouth descended over his length. Elliot sucked in a shrill breath as you moved your mouth all the way down to the base of him. His dick felt hot inside your mouth, slightly salty from where he'd probably been sweating over you earlier. But it wasn't unpleasant and you were turned on by how frantic his actions were. 

You began to move your lips up and down slowly, focussing more so on swirling your tongue around the tip of Elliot's cock as you blew him. The motion made him swear under his breath and a hand found its way to the back of your head as he gently urged you on. When you brought a hand up to wrap around him he let out a growl - an actual growl which made you ache - and pushed your hand away. 'No no I'm too sensitive.' 

Occasionally he'd lift your head up and stare at your glazed expression, his eyes roaming over your wet lips which were starting to feel swollen from the motion. It was hot knowing he was getting off to watching your mouth get covered in spit and precum, but you knew Elliot well enough to know that he was searching in your face for your ongoing willingness and the insecurity was probably teasing him in the back of his brain. As a result you increased the speed of your sucking, tilting your head slightly as you did so that he caught every velvety corner of your mouth. 'Jesus fuck.' Elliot swore as his hips bucked into your mouth. You wanted to look up and see the sight you'd been thinking about earlier - his scrunched eyes and slack mouth but you couldn't, not yet.

'Stop, stop please! Otherwise I'll cum-' The words came out as a rush from Elliot and you pulled your mouth off him, squeezing the base of his cock tightly just in case.

'Isn't that the point?' You said breathlessly, studying every bit of Elliot's fucked out face as he panted in the chair. 

'I wanted to fuck you first.' His voice was back to a low drawl with just a hint of breathlessness behind it. He leaned forward and quickly kissed your wet lips, his tongue dipping into mouth as he rather confidently tasted himself. You whined at the sensation, unable to take it this time as your hips bucked forward and rutted against Elliot's shin. Elliot let out a short breath which could have been a laugh if his tongue wasn't in your mouth. All of a sudden he was off the chair, even his small frame felt imposing as he hovered over you pushing you right down onto the wooden floorboards.

'Here? Really?' You gasped out as Elliot set to work unbuttoning your work trousers with his nimble fingers. You allowed him to roughly pull them down, abandoning his task half way through when he realised he'd forgotten about your shoes. It made you smirk when he prised them awkwardly off your feet which earnt you a rough squeeze of your thigh.

'Serves you right for earlier. Stupid girl.' Elliot replied but you could hear the teasing in his voice. He leant forward and gave you a soft kiss as he removed your underwear. It was a reminder that he didn't really hate you, that you were wanted and he was all yours. 

You gasped when your ass came into contact with cold wooden floorboards beneath you. Elliot bit his lip and kneaded your ass cheeks roughly in his hands which made you jump. 

'Elliot!'

'Sorry.' He replied bashfully and his lips pulled into a half smile as his hand grazed your inner thigh. You closed your eyes and tried not to hold your breath as his fingertips traced over the lips of your pussy. Fortunately Elliot was never much in the mood for teasing and he plunged two fingers into you easily. Your back arched almost painfully from the wooden floor and you saw Elliot smirk at how wet you were as his fingers glided in and out of you easily.

'Fuck.' You gasped when Elliot rolled his thumb over your clit, his fingers already beginning a 'come hither' motion as he found your g-spot easily.

'You really like pissing me off, don't you?' Elliot aided his question with a quick flick of his fingers which made you bite down on your lip. 

'Answer.' He prompted you again with his fingers, the speed slowly increasing and the pressure on your clit growing more insistent as Elliot drew you closer.

'Yes. Fuck. Okay yes I do.' You moaned out, very close to cumming as your hips bucked against Elliot's fingers of their own accord. 

'That's kind of messed up Y/N.' Elliot drawled as he brought you off with his hand. You would feel embarrassed about gushing all over his hand but it felt so good you didn't care. You managed a high pitched 'El' followed by a series of whimpers as you came hard. 

You took a few seconds to come down from your high and when you finally opened you eyes you could see that Elliot was fisting his cock tightly again, bottom lip caught between his teeth. 

'Sorry you looked so good then I couldn't help it.' He gasped out and you noticed that it was his hands that were shaking now as he kneeled between your legs. 

'May I?' Elliot asked as he hovered over you, dick in hand ready to enter. 

'Yes Christ, please do.' Was all you managed you hiss out as Elliot entered you in one fluid motion. You were worried he wouldn't be able feel anything due to how wet you were but he still let out a low groan as he pushed all the way in.

'This probably won't last long sorry.' Elliot said through his teeth as his hips started to rock against yours, the floorboards creaking underneath you. 

'Fuck I don't care just fill me up.' You gasped out in return which made Elliot swear under his breath again as he picked up pace, wet sounds coming from the place where your hips met as he fucked you frantically.

'El, El, El...' You didn't know why you were saying his name like that but it was like a chorus. All you could do was grip Elliot's slender hips tightly, urging him deeper as his hips rolled against yours. Elliot kept one hand tightly on your ass cheek, kneading the soft flesh hard as he held you still on the floor whilst the other hand rested just above your head as he supported himself above you.

'Fuck, ah...' Elliot bit out and suddenly you could feel yourself being flooded with warmth as he buried himself in you. Elliot stayed very still for a few moments, his sweaty brow pressed against your shoulder as he panted above you. Climax for Elliot was similar to being high and this was very much his comedown.

'You're so good.' You breathed out over Elliot's shoulder and kissed the damp skin there whilst your back throbbed with pain from being down on the wooden floor. 

After that the anger was all but forgotten. Elliot lectured you of course but he wasn't mad at all. In fact you were very pleased with yourself, pleased with the fact that from now on you knew exactly how to get Elliot going.