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Almost Over You | Joe Burrow
summary: It happened suddenly, you and Joe had broken up and you never understood exactly how it happened. All you know is that his ex-girlfriend was brought up and an argument started leaving to you being heartbroken. Your friends swore to you that they would stop at nothing until you got over your ex-boyfriend, but what if that's harder than you think?
Pairing: Joe Burrow (Bengals/NFL) x Fem! Reader (Joe Burrow x You)
Requested: Yes | No
Warning(s): mentions of heartbreak and breaking up, mentions of Joe x Olivia, mentions of alcohol.
Little note from me: This is the first time I have ever written for Joe Burrow. I usually write for Tee Higgins and Josh Allen. I wanted to give Joe a try because he is starting to grow on me a little bit. I may end up making a part 2 to this if I feel like it. Also I started writing this in Y/N format and then I switched to "You" after like the second paragraph lol. *gif not mine*
Word Count (lyrics not included): 4.5k
*Not Edited*
I also hate how I ended this. I need to work on the ending of my stories but I will work on getting better. May be a part 2 later... I haven't decided yet!
I've stopped looking for your truck, every time I go somewhere I don't scroll through the past anymore 'cause I don't care I'm finally putting on the shirt I like, tight jeans, big hoops with my hair up high. The least you could've done was give me the bar tonight.
Y/N browsed her outfits that she had brought over to her friends house. Her and her girls were having a girls night and going to the bar to let loose and have fun. It happened to be her best friends idea, mainly because she had been struggling to get over a recent breakup. Y/BFF/N had insisted that he wasn’t worth it and that she was going to get you over him one way or another.
“Let me do your hair, Y/N!” One of the girls in your group spoke up. She was the hairstylist and makeup guru of the group, so she was the designated hair and makeup artist for the friend groups and any events that they attended. “I’ll fix your makeup too.”
Y/N knew arguing would be pointless, so she sat down in the vanity chair and let her hair artist friend have at it. “I need help picking an outfit.” She spoke up looking towards her best friend while the other friend continued doing her hair. “I’m torn between the three on the bed.” She added pointing to the three outfits.
In less than 20 minutes, her hair was done and makeup was touched up. Her best friend had left her choice on the bed before finishing getting ready and making everyone a pregame shot before heading to the bar. She was finishing pulling up her jeans when her friends came in with two trays of shots.
“I’m not sure about this outfit.” Y/N spoke up. She usually wasn’t one to feel insecure, but looking at herself dressed in a pair of tight skinny jeans and a blouse, both of them not belonging to her, made her self conscious. “Why didn’t you pick one of my outfits?” She asked her best friend turning around.
“Girl, you look hot!” She replied not answering your question at first. “You’re freshly single, so we’re gonna act like it today.” She added picking up a shot and handing it to you.
You hesitantly grabbed the alcohol before glancing around the group of girls you loved so much. They were your best friends and you would do anything for them and they would do anything for you. “To Y/N, for finally taking a large step in getting over the dick.”
“Cheers to that.” The other girls replied before downing the shot.
“Don’t call him that.” You spoke up softly hating the way her comment made you feel. The night you two broke up was still a blur and was anything but easy for you. More than likely you had blacked it out due to heartbreak, but still it lingered in your mind.
“Honey, he had his hooks sunk deep in you. So deep that you literally wouldn’t even walk into a shop, restaurant, or anything if you noticed a vehicle that looked like his.” Y/BFF/N reminded you as you threw back your shot in hopes of forgetting about Joe tonight. Your ultimate goal was to finally and fully move on, to get over Joe tonight.
After a couple more shots, the girls were heading to their favorite bar. Which just so happened to be the bar that Y/N and Joe always went to together.
Why'd you have to come back in right then right when I was just getting good and gone? 'Cause I was in the wrong place at the wrong time You must've heard I was moving on, Then right out of the blue a quarter past two, I'm all about you. When I was just about, just about over you.
The girls had gotten to the bar around 11:45 or midnight. It was officially 1:42 and Y/N was letting loose. She felt the best she had in forever and to her, it had nothing to do with the guy that she was practically grinding against. The alcohol in her system made her feel a bit more easy-going and less paranoid of running into “he-who-should-not-be-named” at their bar.
The loud pounding music came to a halt and was replaced with a slower song causing you to turn around and face to mystery bar guy. You weren’t one to just go and have hook-ups with anyone or randomly show pda to guys you didn’t know. In a plan to get over someone… it felt almost right to do it that way.
“You want to get out of here?” The mystery guy asked seductively trying to keep you enticed with him.
You gave him a look before your eyes caught a group of men walking in together. Your blood ran cold, face turning pale as you seen the familiar dirty blonde locks and perfect smile of your ex-boyfriend. You took a chance to catch your breath when you moved your eyes over and caught Jamarr and Tee already noticing you. You had been close with a few of Joe’s teammates seeing as you were together for a bit.
Jamarr gave you a quick nod of greeting before avoiding your gaze and Tee flashed you his smile before heading to an area with the boys. “I have to go.” You told the mystery man before leaving towards your group of girls. You were hoping that you could convince your girls to leave and do this another night. Maybe you could fake sick and go home by uber, you weren’t sure what your whole plan was, but you knew something would have to go down to leave.
Once you reached your group of girls, who were either occupied with boys/girls or chatting with each other while drinking, you put on your best sick face. “Hey, I’m not feeling the best… I think it’s best if I uber home.”
Your hairdresser best friend gave you a saddened look believing the story that was being told. “Bullshit.�� Y/BFF/N spoke up crossing her arms. “I noticed him walk in with his groupies.” She responded raising an eyebrow in your direction.
You shrugged not really caring if she noticed him, “I’m not in the mood to deal with this tonight.”
“Y/N, you are not leaving. I promised you that I would help you get over him and with that promise it means not letting you leave all because he came into this bar.” Your best friend stated. With her tone of voice, you knew it was pointless to even argue with her.
“Isn’t it weird that he showed up after you were fixing to go home with some guy?” Another one of the girls in your group spoke up.
“I was not going home with that guy.” You objected crossing your arms over yourself feeling a bit uncomfortable. “That’s not who I am.”
“Maybe that’s what you need for one night.” Another spoke up causing you to roll your eyes.
You shook your head in disbelief at your friends, “I’m getting another drink.” You mumbled before turning and making your way to the bar. Last call would be announced within the next fifteen minutes, and you were not waiting until then.
You could've stayed with the guys, acting like you didn't see me It would've hurt a little less if you'd bought some girl a drink but you had to walk up, messing me up I'm drunk, wondering why it's gotta be like this I thought I was moving on, but now I'm starting back over again.
After another drink and a shot, you had simply ordered a glass of red wine. You were already feeling the effects of the alcohol and you were worried that you would do something stupid if you ordered anything other than wine. Part of your friend group had gone home with whoever they had met here, no doubt going to have a fun night. Your best friend and one other girl were the only ones that were left of your group besides you.
“Can I get another round for our table back there?” His voice spoke up causing a chill to run down your back. You hadn’t heard that voice since the night that it ended. Without paying him any attention, you picked up your glass and took a drink of the crimson liquid. It was easier to pretend that he wasn’t there instead of trying to make everything weird. Joe seemed to have different plans, “Hey, I didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” He mumbled as he sat down on the seat next to you.
“I was hoping I wouldn’t see you.” He would never admit it, but your reply felt like a knife. He knew that the whole breakup should had been dealt with sooner and talked about. If not to fix it, then to at least to make it less messy.
Joe chose to ignore your blunt reply as he waited on their final tray of drinks, “How have you been?” he asked carefully knowing that it hadn’t been easy for him. He would never admit that to you unless you asked him yourself.
“Why are you doing this?” You asked. Finally, you turned to face him noticing the stubble that adorned his face compared to his usual clean-shaven self. There was no point in answering his question because you had not felt your best since your last night with him. “You could have avoided me and let me heal.” You added taking another sip of win after.
Joe looked exhausted; anyone could tell. You had heard that they were currently not playing their best even if you refused to watch the games. You were his problem, not that he blamed you. He blew up for no reason, mainly due to stress and you felt as if it was a personal attack. “I didn’t mean what I said that night.” He told you. Even if you wanted him to leave you alone, he just knew he had to tell you what he felt after that night. “When you brought up my past… it never compared to us. She never meant as much to me as you did, I get that I was with her longer, but it wasn’t the same.”
You shrugged trying your best to act like you didn’t care. “I am not talking about this.” You shook your head before finishing off your glass of wine. “If we’re being honest, I shouldn’t have brought up Olivia, but that’s all I’m going to say.” You added before standing up from your seat. You needed to get back to your best friend before your body decided to fully give in to the handsome quarterback right next to you.
“Y/N don’t do this. Let me in and let’s talk about this.” Joe practically begged as he stood up quickly noticing that you were trying to make your escape. The look on your face was unreadable, why was Joe begging you to talk about it? What would it help and why was it such a big deal to him?
“Joe, you ended it. I don’t owe you anything.” You whispered as you pushed back tears not wanting them to surface. You were beginning to feel defeated because your heart and your body yearned for the man in front of you.
“Y/N… please.” He pleaded one last time in a whisper, in the same way that you had answered him. Before you could say anything, the bartender placed the tray of drinks down giving you the chance to get away from Joe before he could continue begging you and you gave in.
maybe you caught me on a bad night maybe tomorrow I'll be just fine maybe it's the red wine that put you back in my mind
Final call had happened at 2:30, but the bar was still alive with drunk couples, singles, and others. Your best friend had told you that she was going home with the guy that she had been with all night, only she was staying with you until you wanted to leave. Truth be told, she was probably just trying to ensure that you would stay away from Joe the rest of the night.
“I’m going to the restroom and then I’ll head home.” You promised your best friend before pulling her into a hug.
Once you two pulled away she gave you a small smile, “want me to wait for you?” she offered.
You didn’t miss the eye roll from the guy that she was going home with. You internally scoffed and rolled your eyes at the guy who wanted inside your best friends pants before returning the smile, “No, I’ll be fine. Just be careful on your way home.”
Your bestie nodded before giving you a knowing look, “There’s plenty of people still here. I think you should reconsider what I told you earlier.” She added before locking arms with the guy beside her. You rolled your eyes and shook your head, “If you change your mind you have to let me know.” She teased before blowing a kiss and turned to head out with the man that she had met tonight.
You turned around and grabbed your wristlet before making your way towards the bathroom. In all seriousness you were more than ready to go home, you had been since your conversation with Joe. However, it still made Joe stay in your mind. Flashbacks from the relationship played over and over again. Whether you wanted to admit it or not, Joe Burrow was a huge green flag when you’re in a relationship with him. He may act cocky or arrogant sometimes, but most of the time it’s to hide how he is truly feeling.
Even if he was a green flag, you still argued some but it wasn’t often. The night you broke up was the only big fight that you had experienced in that relationship. Why did the relationship break after one fight? You just guessed that your relationship was not strong enough to last.
After you finished in the bathroom you exited (after washing your hands of course) and got on your phone so you could order an Uber for the ride home. You knew it was a bad idea for you girl’s to ride together, but no one disagreed and you weren’t going to be the first one to object.
“Really? 25 minutes.” You huffed as you leaned against the hallway leading to the bathroom. You wanted to be away from the crowds and try to catch a ride back to your place. “Why did I agree to do this tonight?” you mumbled placing your phone back in your pocket after seeing the wait time.
“Are you okay?” a familiar voice spoke up. You looked towards the dimly lit hallway and noticed the guy that you had been dancing with before Joe came in. You had been hoping that he had already went home because you didn’t want to see him again either. “I heard you huffing.” He mentioned with a half smile forming on his face.
You nodded assuring him that you were fine, “Yeah. Just waiting for my ride.” You lied knowing good and well that you didn’t order that Uber that was going to take almost half an hour.
He nodded, “I could take you home if you’re getting inpatient.” He offered hoping that you would accept his invite.
Your body was overcome with a feeling of dread when you looked into his eyes. You weren’t sure why, mainly because he had been a nice guy earlier. Thinking back, maybe you missed this feeling because of the alcohol and then the fact that you noticed your ex before you could process the guy in front of you.
You shook your head forcing a fake smile, “No it’s fine. My ride will be here very soon and I don’t want to leave them hanging.” You lied again in hopes that it was believable.
“Come on.” He urged walking closer and leaning against the wall next to you.
You opened your mouth to object before a voice beat you to it, “Babe, what’s taking so long?” Joe’s voice rang out down the hallway as footsteps were heard getting closer to you. The mental relief you felt hearing his voice was unreal. No matter how much you didn’t want to be around him, you always knew that you were safe with him.
“I was just talking to a friend.” You lied knowing that Joe could hear the hesitation in your voice and he definitely noticed your body language. Your body relaxed once you felt his familiar embrace around you.
“Babe?” The mystery guy from early asked glancing between the two. It was obvious that many people in Cincinatti knew who Joe was, the guy in front of you especially. “You should be aware that your girlfriend lead me on earlier.” He told Joe causing you to tense.
Joe’s grip around you tightened, probably not liking the chance of you going home with you before he got there. “Well, I’m sure whatever she was doing earlier was just for fun. No strings attached just innocent fun.” Joe muttered making sure to get his point across.
“Whatever.” The guy mumbled before eyeing you one more time before stepping around the two of you and leaving the hallway.
You let out a sigh of relief once he was officially out of hearing range, “Thank you.” you mumbled pulling yourself out of his arms. It didn’t take long for you to miss the feeling of him around you, it felt like home. It felt safe.
Joe shook his head, “Don’t thank me.” He replied noticing how you were calming down now that you were alone. “Was that the guy you were with when I got here?”
Even though Joe asked, you felt as if he already knew the answer. You just weren’t sure if it was from his comment or if he actually caught you. “How did you… Jamarr and Tee.” You sighed knowing that they told Joe about seeing you with him.
Joe shook his head, “I actually noticed you first.” He denied your allegations. “I made a comment about the guy you were with which is what made the guys notice you.” He shrugged acting like his comment meant nothing.
If you were honest, you felt giddy knowing that Joe was looking at you first before you even noticed him.
why'd you have to come back in right then right when I was just getting good and gone? guess I was in the wrong place at the wrong time you must've heard I was moving on then right out of the blue a quarter past two, I'm all about you when I was just about, just about over you. I was just about over you.
You knew that you were going to regret this. It was the biggest mistake and was what your best friend was trying to get you over. The only thing was that you could not argue with how right it felt to be sitting in the passenger seat of Joe’s vehicle. You had accepted a ride home instead of ordering an Uber late, and it didn’t help that the mystery guy from the bar was lounging around almost like he was waiting to see if you were with Joe for real. After feeling uneasy noticing the guy looking at you while you went and visited with your old friends for a moment, Joe secretly proposed for you to stay with him for the night. Just to ensure that you were safe until daylight. Being unsure of the bar and going home alone, you agreed.
How did you get yourself in this situation though? You promised yourself that this would be the night that you got over Joe, however you felt as if all your progress was thrown out the window. You truly loved Joe and a part of you always would. He was the first person that you truly loved, which is why you knew apart of you would always belong to Joe. You were moving on the best you could, and you were sure that you could have gotten over him. Maybe there was a reason why it wasn’t tonight? Maybe it was protection from someone or something, but all you knew was that sitting in his car made it real that you would in no way be over him.
“Do you need anything?” He asked more than likely referring to medicine or water due to the alcohol consumption tonight. You shook your head feeling more sober than ever. The house was so familiar, and a warm feeling came over you being back in his home. “I’ll get you a change of clothes before we head to bed.” He mentioned shooting you a small smile before walking towards his room. The room you used to basically live in when you were together.
Without waiting for him to call you, you carefully made your way into his bedroom seeing him lay out the clothes on the bed. “Can I shower before we head to bed?” You asked softly hoping you wouldn’t scare him.
Joe nodded, “You don’t have to ask.�� He mumbled picking up the clothes he sat on the bed and handed them to you.
You silently thanked him before heading to his private bathroom and locking the door behind you. You knew where he kept his towels and everything so there was no need to make him get everything ready for you. You let the water run for a moment to get warm before stripping your clothes and getting into the shower. You sighed feeling the heat soothing your tense muscles due to the stress you were under tonight. You were trying to rack your brain over every event that happened tonight before noticing the array of products in Joe’s shower caddy.
Everything you used sat untouched in the corner. Your shampoo, conditioner, exfoliating scrub, shaving items, body wash, and skincare. Everything that you had left here was sitting there looking untouched due to how little you had used them. You had just restocked before you two broke up, meaning that you never wanted to face him to get those items back. You just went out and bought new ones because it was easier… emotionally.
Instead of crying due to your relationship being over, you pushed it out of your mind and finished showering. You knew how Joe was, and he wouldn’t go to bed until you got out of the shower. Once doing your skincare and haircare, you got out and dried off and got dressed. You gave yourself a once over in the mirror, noticing that Joe gave you his favorite shirt of his and a pair of bengals shorts that he had gotten you. You remember him saying, “If you’re going to be my girl, we might as well give you some gear.” You smiled at the memory before cleaning up the bathroom and heading out to Joe’s room.
You’d be lying if you said that seeing him lying on his bed in only shorts was a turn off. He was definitely the best-looking guy you have ever seen in your life, there was no doubt about it. The sound of your footsteps caused Joe to lock his phone and turn his attention towards you.
“Do you need anything before I head to the guest room?” He asked softly getting out of his bed. He waited to see if you needed anything because he knew that you usually had to rack your brain over your nighttime routine.
“You don’t have to go to your guest bed. I’m not taking your bed.” You refused even if you secretly wanted his bed. What could you say? It was so comfortable to the point to where you wanted it in your apartment. “I can sleep in the guest room.” You knew he would deny but it was worth a shot.
Joe refused, “You know I never let you sleep in the guest room.” He reminded even though she knew. She had practically moved in with him so when they argued, Joe would start the nights in the guest bed and weasel his way back into his bed with you. That’s just how the two of them were in their relationship.
Instead of playing the back-and-forth game you sat down on the bed and gestured for him to join you. “Can I ask what the real reason is that you are doing this?” You asked softly as you felt the bed dip with his weight, only he was sitting in front of you. “You don’t owe me anything, Joe.” You assured so he didn’t feel as though he owed a debt to you.
“I know.” He replied, “actually I do owe you an apology. I’m sorry about that night, I was stressed about the game, and I took it out on you.” He apologized.
You gave him a small smile in return, “I think we both said some things that we regret that night.” You whispered worried that everything would come crashing down.
“I love you, Y/N.” Joe admitted softly his hand coming up to your neck. “I’ll never stop no matter what happens.” He added in a whisper to not spook you too much.
You bet your lip trying to keep from tearing up at his words. For the last three months you had been wanting to hear those words come out of his mouth, yet it was surreal to actually hear them.
“I was trying so hard to get over you.” You whispered out, a crack in your voice that did not go unnoticed by Joe. “I still love you so much and it kills me every day.” You added full of emotion due to staring into the blue eyes that you loved so much.
Staring into Joe’s eyes, you felt the walls that you had built the last three months come falling down. You promised yourself that you would get over him and never fall back into his arms, yet you weren’t going to stop. You knew that even if you two never got back together officially that you would always be safe and have a home around Joe. Your heart would always be his no matter what.
Instead of overthinking and thinking of the worse possible outcomes, you decided to finally do what your heart and body have been craving. In one quick motion, you had your hands on the back of his neck and pushed your lips on his. It didn’t take him but a second to start kissing you back because it was clear that he had missed you all the same.
You sighed in content at the kiss, causing Joe to apply a bit of pressure to where his hand was resting on your neck. You could feel the want for him building up, wanting the two of you to make up for lost time. You were unsure of how far you would go but being in his arms, at least for one more night was something that you were okay with.
It was safe to say that you two did in fact make up for the lost time that was three months. You had texted your best friend telling her that you took her advice about going home with a “nice” guy from the club and that he was full of “green flags”. She was beyond excited wanting to know the details, which you would give her without letting her know that it was indeed your ex.
Joe woke up the next morning thinking everything would go back to normal. You two had talked a bit, had makeup sex, and even cuddled to sleep. He woke up to an opposing reality, which made him question if you were ever really there. You had left early, not knowing what it meant for you two. Not wanting to have another intimate conversation, you ran saving it for another day.
Joe’s clothes laying on the end of the bed told him that it wasn’t a dream. You were in fact with him last night and he wasn’t just lost in a drunken dream. Joe knew after last night; he would not be letting you go as easy as he did before. No matter how upset and angry he was, he was going to find you and make you his again. He was sure of it.
#imagines#nfl imagine#nfl fandom#nfl player x reader#requests are open#imagine requests#joe burrow#joe burrow imagine#joe burrow bengals#joe burrow x y/n#joe burrow x reader#joe burrow x you#joe burrow x oc#joeyb#SoundCloud#Spotify
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“And My Daddy Tells Me I Light Up His World ♡” Dad!Bsd Drabbles ੈ✩‧₊˚
╰┈➤ Chuuya Nakahara, Osamu Dazai, Fyodor Dostoevsky
Warnings; Line breaks between indented paragraphs mean new scenarios, girl dads, d/n- daughters name, s/n-sons name, p/t-parental title for reader
Description; a couple different scenarios, 2 for Fyodor, 1 for Dazai, 1 for Chuuya
A/n; just so u guys do know I giggle every single time I type out d/n, also also I've got a req still about dad Fyodor in my inbox but I don't know why it's so hard for me to write it 3: I'll get it out ong, im so sorry dad fyodor anon </3 consider this tribute to you 3: also next post's gonna be for the event! Had to rewrite it.
Fyodor Dostoevsky ★
Fyodor stood in the kitchen, accompanied by his young daughter sitting at the dining table. In his hand was a letter to Nikolai, written a week ago that he had finally decided to mail. He grabs an envelope before rummaging through drawers while his daughter colors idly across the room. She peers up at him from her spot and hops out of her chair, coloring paper in hand. "what're you looking for, papa?" She asks, looking up at him with her e/c eyes, the ones that matched yours perfectly. He smiled at her and closed the drawer he was looking through. "Just a pen, malyshka. Do you know where I could find one?" He asks her, looking down at her. She nods and fetches one of the pens from her big bag of coloring supplies, digging through it for a quick second before returning to him with her arm outstretched and a glittery pink gel pen in her small hands. "This is okay, right, papa? Who's the letter going to?" He takes it appreciatively and writes out Nikolais name and address. "Uncle Kolya, and any pen you give me will do, sweetheart." He gives the pen back to her and ruffles her hair. "Oh, uncle Kolya will just love it, then! I'm pretty sure his favorite color is pink. I'm gonna color this for him so that the next time he comes over he'll have a present from me!" She says with excitement, skipping back over to her seat at the table to resume her coloring. "Oh, ofcourse, d/n." After Fyodor mailed the letter, he soon got a response from Nikolai expressing his disappointment over the letter not being fully written in pink gel pen, which was backed up by his daughter as well.
You stood in yours and your husbands bedroom, buttoning his shirt for him while he watched the numbers flicker and change on the alarm clock on your nightstand. Your daughters school was hosting a daddy-daughter dance and your daughter insisted on Fyodor taking her. He agreed obviously, but he felt unfamiliar with such things, after all, he'd never experienced a daddy-daughter dance in his childhood. You gave him a smile once you buttoned his shirt and grabbed the only tie he owned off the dresser. "You look so good, Fedya. Like a prince." You said with a smile, leaning in to kiss the corner of his lips. He hummed and guided your chin with his fingers to kiss his lips completely. "Just a prince? Not a king?" His eyes were half lidded as always and you could make out a small smile on his face. "Alright, fine, a king." You finished tying his tie for him and left it slightly loose around his neck, knowing he was never really fond of how tight they could be. "Perfect, that would make d/n our little princess." Almost as if summoned, her footsteps are heard pattering down the hallway in her cute little flats that you got for her. The dress that she wore was adorned with puffy, mesh layers on the skirt and some gemstones on the top. "Papa, are you ready to go yet? " she asks, walking over to his side and examining his outfit thoroughly and gasping excitedly. "Papa, your tie matches my dress!" She says, pointing out the same colored material. "It does." He picks her up with a smile. "Do I look pretty?" She asks, a big, toothy grin on her face. He laughs and nods.
"Absolutely, now go say goodbye to p/t." He says, putting her down onto the ground so she could hug you and bid you a goodbye. "Bye, p/t!!" She says, squeezing you quite tightly. You hug her back and kiss her head, looking down at her. "Bye, sweetheart, I love you. Oh- wait! Before you go I want a picture of you and papa." You fish your phone from your back pocket and open the camera app as she backs up and hugs her papa just as tightly as she held you. Fyodor places his hand on her back while they both smile for the photo, but wince all of a sudden as your phones flash goes off. "Oh- whoops, I forgot to turn the flash off- for real this time." They both pose again, d/n giggling at your small mistake. You snapped it and then examined it on the phone before your daughter started pleading to see it. Fyodors smile was as charming as always, both in person and in the photo, and your daughter looked absolutely adorable in her poofy dress. Once you had shown her and she was satisfied, she quickly made her way out of the room, holding the skirt of her dress by the handfuls. Fyodor laughed at her under his breath before he leaned in to kiss you once more before he left, letting his hand linger on your hip like his taste did on your lips. "Bye, Fedya, I love you, have fun." You grin, to which he lets out a sigh. "I will, I love you too, Moya Lyubov." He pulls away and follows the young girl out of the bedroom. You smiled to yourself as you heard him call from down the hallway, "Wait, malyshka, don't go out the door so fast", followed by the prompt creeking and closing of the door.
Osamu Dazai ★
No one got the memo that it was apparently 'bring your kid to work's day', but everyone had to adjust rather quickly when Dazai pulled up to the Ada with a young child on his hip, oogling at any shiny object in its sight. Kunikida was the first to ask about it. "Is this another orphan that you've decided to pick up off the streets? It's too young for a job here." Dazai rolled his eyes. "For your information, this is my son. His babysitter has come down with the flu." He clarifies, walking past everyone to his desk and sitting the one year old on his lap. The baby leans towards him and reaches for the tassels of his bolo tie, grabbing and pulling on them to his mouth. Dazai laughs and gently pulls them out of the little boys grasp. "No, s/n, you can't chew on those." His son pouts and coos out some baby nonsense, starting to look around for some other entertainment, only to find nothing that interests him. He looks up at his dad with his big brown eyes and pouts, huffing and gripping his long jacket in his chubby fists. "Papa, 'ome." He babbles, missing the comfort of yours and Dazais house and preferring to be there over the agency. "I know, s/n, believe me. I'd rather be at home than sitting here with these people." He says, sighing and shaking his head. "Just keep him from crying." Kunikida says exasperatedly while writing a report from the last case he worked on for Fukuzawa. Dazai hums in acknowledgement and turns the baby to face away from him, keeping him sat on his lap. "My boy doesn't cry, he's nothin' like those other babies." He says with a grin, grabbing a pen and wrapping his son's hand around it and helping him drag it acrossed the closest paper on Dazais desk. "Yeah, just get a feel for holding the pen and as soon as you can write on your own, daddy's never doin' his own reports again." He grins. "Your son isn't doing any paperwork for the agency until he joins. And that still doesn't mean he'll be doing yours." Kunikida says from his desk. Dazai shakes his head and lets go of his sons arm. "Ugh, whatever... Kunikida doesn't gotta know if I bring it home though." He whispers to the boy, evoking an unaware giggle. Kunikida let out a knowing huff and gave up on trying.
Chuuya Nakahara ★
After his little girl had asked him on numerous occasions for a trip to the fair, he was finally able to get some time off and go with you and her. He weaved through the crowds with her on his shoulders and his hand in yours while trying to decide on one final game for your daughter to play before you left.. "Papa, look! They have fish!" D/n exclaimed, pointing at the booth that ran the famous goldfish game that parents never want their kids to see. Not Chuuya though. He's nothin' like y'all. Chuuya didn't mind the idea of having a fish for his daughter, even if it was him who had to feed it every day and clean it's tank regularly. He smiled and looked over at you with eyes that asked you if you were in mutual agreement of letting her try to win a goldfish. You smiled back at him and nodded, noticing your daughter watching the two of you exchange your glances. "Alright sweetheart, let's go get ya one of them fish." He walks over to the stand with you, lifting her off of his shoulders while you handed the carnie a $5 bill for a basket of ten ping pong balls. Chuuya watched d/n try to toss the first five into one of the colorful mini-fishbowls and miss every single one, so he grabbed a ball and tossed it, getting it into one of them. The man running the game cheers and heads to get d/n her fish, but she ends up getting two of the last four balls in on her own, nearly shrieking in excitement. "Daddy, that means I get three fishes, right?" She excitedly asks, her hair bouncing in the pigtail style it was pulled into. "Yup, that's right." He smiles at the carnie when he hands the fish to him and mutters an appreciative thank you, patting his daughters back and telling her to do the same. "Thank you! P/t, can we get them a tank at home?" She asks, still super hyper from her triple win. You laugh and nod, holding two of the fish so Chuuya doesn't have to hold all three and your daughter if she chooses she's too tired to walk to the car. "Yeah, we'll stop at the pet store to get you a nice tank for them." You tell her, nodding for her to follow you and Chuuya grabbing her hand so she doesn't get lost. "What do you say to daddy? He got you one of those." You say with a small laugh and she looks up at her dad with big, adoring eyes. "Thank you, daddy! Ahh, I'm so excited for my fishes!" Her misunderstanding of the plural version of fish also makes you giggle a little. "You're welcome, princess. Y'gonna take real good care of them? Remind me to feed 'em every day?" He says, guiding you guys through the parked cars towards your own. "Yup! Every single morning! But what're we gonna do when I'm at school and you and p/t are working? What about their lunch?" She frowns. "Fish don't need lunch, don't worry." He reassures her and hands you the third bagged fish for a moment while buckling d/n into her seat. "Good, I don't want them to starve!" She says. Chuuya laughs under his breath and closes the backseat door, pulling out a cigarette to smoke before taking the sorta-long drive to the pet store and home. Now he had three more responsibilities, but it made his baby happy, so he really didn't mind having to take care of three more animals in addition to his original one.
A/n; yawns speed ran these, wrote Chuuyas in like,, 12 minutes, it's not proofread (js Chuuyas) but hopefully it works (。•̀ᴗ-)✧ also I'd like to come out and say ion proofread my own stuff, I have my friends do it (I love you guys MWAH)
#bungo stray dogs#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd x reader#bsd fanfic#bsd headcanons#fanfic#fanfiction#bsd fyodor#fyodor x reader#bungo stray dogs fyodor#bungou stray dogs fyodor#fyodor bsd#fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor dostoyevsky bsd#fyodor#fyodor x you#bungo stray dogs chuuya#chuuya x reader#bsd chuuya#bungou stray dogs chuuya#chuuya nakahara#bsd chuuya nakahara#chuuya x y/n#bsd dazai osamu#dazai bungou stray dogs#bsd dazai#bungou stray dogs dazai#osamu dazai x reader#dazai x reader
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I do not know if you have ever thought about it, but listen! Last night I came up with a funny idea where Nadia and her friend decided to have fun and did a survey among bots. who do they think they would fuck that night and obviously almost all the bots have chosen our favorite ambassador. I would be interested to see the ambassador's reaction to this prank from Nadia😁良い一日を。💕
Pay back-Human affects
Word count: 2.2k
Warnings: pin-up photoshoot, mentioned nudity, thirsting, unhinged behaviour.
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Is it nearly 1am, yes, but I wanted to finish this piece because it was written with the last part, but I wanted it to split it for these requests.
Ask and request are open
________
The Ambassador sat with the three surfing what was essentially the cybertronian version of Twitter, Tumblr and Reddit all in one, laughing and reading the post.
"Ooo, this one's juicy!" Nadia crowed, shoving her datapad in the Ambassador's face, making them read through yet another raunchy post.
DockDawg66: "Primus, you guys, have you SEEN our Ambass? The way their hips sway when they walk...I just wanna toss 'em in my cab and take 'em for a spin, if you catch my drift! That soft little organic is begging for a spike the size of their torso. Bet I could make 'em sing."
The whole crew roared with laughter as the Ambassador snatched the pad, face heated in embarrassment, they were aware that some of the bots on ship had a thing for them but this, this was not what they had expected they literally had a full forum dedicated to them.
"Have you no shame, you pervs?" They huff out while pressing a hand to their forehead. Millian scanned down their notes with a smirk. " it seems you've got a bit of a fanclub, chief. Check out 'Ambass_Admirer' tag
'I just wanna rub my plating all over that smooth flesh...make 'em squeal.' They go on like that for paragraphs, it's a riot."
The Ambassador rolled their eyes good-naturedly as their motley human crew dissolved once more into giggles at the bots' oh-so-secret desires. Their jaw nearly drops as the crew scrolls through even more posts. "Fucking hell! How many of these are there!?!?"
"Seriously, it's like every other bot's got the hots for you!" Millian snorted, scrolling furiously. Nadia nudged them with a wicked smirk. "We should totally roast these pervs. Post looking for 'hot single bots' - bet their inboxes would explode!"
Millian cackled, adding fuel. "Ooh, or you could play hard to get! anyone feel like earning a private photoshoot?' Their circuits would short for sure!"
Ambassador's could feel the colour nearly draining from them with the continued bullying and jokes from the three. As for feeding such flames... Well, a little harmless teasing did feel justified, if they wanted to be fiends what was stopping the Liaison from being one back.
"Alright you hooligans, enough scheming for one night." They chuckled. That's when Taylor speaks up. " you know we could do a bit of a spicy photoshoot, kinda like only Fans make some money of horny bots," she hums while leaning over the Ambassador's shoulder. "Taylor!" The Ambassador sputtered with embarrassment and shock.
"Now there's an idea..." Millian mused, eyeing their boss. Money could go far in this ragtag outpost, and fleecing horny mechs of their shanix just felt poetic.
"Alright you lunatics, I will play along. But first-" They turned to Taylor with a stern look. "Ground rules. Nothing goes public without my say-so, got it? I don't need an invasion of metal pervs in my room!"
They three nearly squeal in delight over the go ahead. "So how far are we going to go with this boss, just some light stuff like you laying on a bed or what?" Millian asked. The three are already scheming ways to do decent photos.
"Oh, oh I have a camera somewhere"
"So... I may have been able to talk One First aid into giving me Ratchet's old servos from before we ended up on ship. Don't ask how" one of the others stated.
The Ambassador rubbed their temples, already regretting this scheme but far too amused to back out now.
"Alright, you loons - nothing explicit, got it? I'm not getting Naked for anyone, Classy pin-up style shots fine, some saucy photos sure but that only." They start laying out ground rules for the three,despite being their boss, they were also friends and they did want to enjoy some letting loose. "And I suppose props could...add a dash of naughty flair, but if we are doing this you guys act professional, don't make weird comments."
As the crew dove into planning, they shook their heads fondly. "We'll start simple - you lounging in 'sexy' clothes, maybe leaning on those servos. Gauge how you feel, then amp it up gradually if you feel comfortable."
"And I get 30% of all earnings!" The Liaison called after them as they scramble to grab what they can for the shoot.
Both Millian and Taylor carted in the servos on a trolley, the ambassador was almost impressed but decided to keep their questions to themself, not really wanting to know how they got ahold of severed cybertronian hands. The three are trying to figure out where to start and what the ambassador should wear.
"I swear if Kyle, David or Daniel find out about this I'm putting all three of you on cleaning duty for forever." The Ambassador threatens them, hands on hips, eyeing the bustling preparations with mingled amusement and trepidation. What had they unleashed upon this ship?
"Boss, take a look, scored this silky robe that's sure to drive 'em wild!" Nadia called, holding up the item in question with a smirk.
Millian hauled over a plush bed adorned with soft blankets and pillows from over in the corner Of their room. "Lay back here while Taylor and I do a test shoot, just want to try and set up lightly."
They move to lay on the bed, trying to get comfortable and move things until they feel right. Millian snaps a few pics before the Liaison stands back up looking at the box of clothing.
Nadia and Taylor begin moving the Servos trying to get them set up as close to the bed as possible. “I'm so glad these are holo on the inside, they are Heavy enough” Taylor huffs out and the move and curl the digits.
The Ambassador looks at the different clothing and fabrics with a raised eyebrow. "Do I want to know where you guys got all of this?" They ask. The three just give mischievous looks.
They let out a sigh. "We will start off with something like this, then you lot can play dress ups with me, Christ never knew you three were this much of a nightmare"
"Alright you troublemakers, out with you while I change," they chide their over-eager crew, shooing them from the room with a laugh. Once alone, they unfurl the silky robe reverently, resting it on the bed before peeling off their uniform. Neatly piling it together. They rummage through the other clothing grabbing out a rather nice looking set of underwear before dragging luxurious sheen robe over their shoulders.
They move over to Millian's set before calling out to them. "I'm changed, you can come back in" they call out. Millian's head popped in, eyes widening at the vision before them. "Boss, you clean up nice!" They let out a low whistle.
The liaison's eyes trace over the large Servos on the ground with a pile of pillows and blankets set between them. "So how are we doing this?" They ask. Nadia and Taylor piled in behind, stopping in their tracks at the enticing sight. The Ambassador lounged lazily amid plush bedding, silhouetted seductively against the soft lights. Those mighty metal servos loomed ominously close.
Taylor shook off her daze first. "Lay back and get comfy. We'll start with some innocent stuff - just look smouldering while you toy with the fabric." With that the three moved around getting lights set so they had the height for the photos. “I'm starting to get suspicious on why you guys have all of this equipment in here Millian.” They call out only for them to wave the accusation off. “Eh I do photos for Nadia on occasions”
"Alright, lay back against those pillows- yeah, just like that. Now arch your back a little and tilt your chin up," Nadia instructed eagerly, moving a few pillows into a good position, Ambassador's gaze up with eyes half lidded. “I feel so stupid doing this!” They call out which makes the others laugh. “Ahh don't worry, last time Nadia did a shoot she nearly lost the bikini top she was wearing because it got caught. Spend ten minutes trying to not have to cut it off” Taylor informed.
“Yea I didn't want to wreck one of my favourites!”
Millian gave a low whistle. "You're doing great, I promise the more you laugh the less awkward it is. Now trail one hand slowly down your chest while the other grips the robe's lapel." Taylor surveyed their work, making subtle adjustments here and there.
"You two- move that big metal hand like it's gently cupping their waist." The crew buzzed around their model putting touches in place. Each minute adjustment drew out as they chatted away about random stuff while doing the photos, it helped them not feel so awkward about doing the photos.
"Alright, I think we've got our money shot," Millian declared at last, snapping one final smouldering image. The shutter clicked rapidly as they tested angles, coaxing out new provocative poses little by little. They stand back up, wrapping the robe around themself as they walk over to Millian. " Can I see the photos? They were rather excited, this wasn't something they normally did, but the three were actually rather professional with it.
The group looked at the photos as Millian slowly flicked through the collection showing off the collection along with some of the more silly ones they took to help ease the tension. The silky robe clung to curves in all the right places, every inch of exposed flesh looked as if it glowed. Bedroom eyes beckoned from heavy lids, lips parted as if panting from passion's heights recently scaled. One hand grasped the large metal hand.
"Holy shit, you really got me good!" They breathed, awed by photos that the three had helped craft. Nadia gave a devilish grin. "Just wait till the boys get an eyeful. They won't know whether to rub one out or combust on the spot!"
Laughter spilled forth from them as Millian begins transferring them over to their data pad. “this was fun, I can see why you enjoy doing it Nadia, I haven't felt this..”
“Beautiful?”
“handsome?”
"Desirable?”
The three state one after another which gets a head shake from the Liaison. “Yes, “ They admit.
"Also how exactly are we going to be posting these photos?" Inquiry, the were feeling rather daring now and wanted to have input on the posting.
They ushered the others close, datapad in hand. "Here's what we'll do- I've got an anonymous account on one of those seedy Commlink forums the bots love. You know, the one where they all drool over flesh?"
Nadia snorted. "Oh yeah, the 'Human Fucker' board. Classy place."
Millian ignored her, pulling up the photos. "I'll post just one crop out whatever you want for your comfort - the money shot where your hand is gripping that servo. Caption will be 'Look who I've got...' nothing else."
“don't crop it post the full thing, I like it and well they want to play with fire this is what happens” the Ambassador hums which makes Taylor cackled, rubbing her hands together. "Mark my words, those mechs will be tripping over themselves trying to claim the 'lucky bot' title," Millian promised gleefully.
Commlink forum: human fucker.
Ambass_Admirer pin.
Tin_Bin25: 'Look who I've got.'
a photo of a bots servos cupped partly around a human in a Satin robe looking rather Ravished, smiling up while their robe is hanging off their shoulder showing off a rather scandalous amount of skin.
Overcharger69: Holy frag is that the Ambass? Lucky slagger, frag what a fine piece!!!
T-Wrexz: No way!. Someone Fragging did it. They got with a Fleshie!
Rev-Rid3: some lucky mech sampled fleshy friction and got the dream...
Flyboi69: : FRAG THIS WHO CARES WHO FRAGGED THEM I JUST WANNA KNOW IF THEY'RE AS SOFT AS THEY LOOK!!!!
ScienceSorcerer: My oh my, what scandalous treasures, do share more with the class! For historical and scientific purposes, of course.
Oiler69: No way, you can't just Post that! Do you have more, Post em up already, need more Proof!
_Heavyhaul: Hey, hey, keep it in your panel's mechs. That photo wasn't released with their consent, it's not cool.
Tin_Bin25: Here is another.
It's a new photo showing the Ambassador lying back against pillows in a low cut silk robe, one hand trailing lazily across their collar while the other grips a metal servo their face pressed against one of the digits as they kiss it, gazing at the camera with hooded eyes
How's that for proof, sceptic? I've got permission for their personal photoshoot, even let me post without hiding their face. Bet your spikes would glitch seeing them like this in person.
Scope_ridge: *venting noises* Frag me sideways, they look good enough to eat! This is officially the best solar cycle ever.
Bar-rizzla: Why, they positively glow with sensuality! One can only imagine the debauchery that inspired such provocative portraits.
StarFielder: Seriously, does anyone have any idea who the lucky mech was? Gotta be someone important...
WPHAS-violation: my Shanix is on it being an officer right? Bet it was Magnus!, rather tasteful compared to the stuff I make.
Con_Spiracy: got me wonderin' - think any other bots have been sampling alien delights?
SunRunner: Whoa, hold up- you've got a whole collection? Heater's firing up over here! *fans self jokingly*
Pimptheride: Hey mech, wanna pass those images over? How much you asking for?
Bar-rizzla: I've got enough engex to trade for a peek! C'mon Tin, help a bot out with his late night activities...
_________
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All That Glitters is Not Feminism - An Analysis of LO's Brand of "Feminism" and What Remains of its Fanbase (A Prologue)
So I referenced a certain article in a recent reblog/ask response and I just need to talk about it because what the actual fuck-
This has to have been written by either a bot or a hater who's reached peak god tier level at playing the long con sarcasm game because NOTHING about this feels sincere or even factual. Much of it almost has to be read in a mocking tone for it to make any real sense.
It says "Lore Olympus" (literally in quotations) in just about every single paragraph over and over again and every single talking point revolves EXCLUSIVELY around Persephone, which I suppose comes as no surprise considering that seems to be all the comic - and its fanbase - cares about at this point.
I really love (/s) how Persephone's "evolution" is being naive and then 'blossoming' into an independent woman who relies entirely on the rich man who groomed her to solve all her problems.
Also all she's done since becoming Queen of the Underworld is abuse lower class people. That's the stuff feminist dreams are made of <3
While we're talking about the main leads, "poster child" is definitely a word for Hades, I think a more appropriate term would be "literal child". And boy howdy, 'god of consent' sure is a title to give the guy who ripped out a lower class satyr's eyeball and beat him half to death.
This man owns slaves, btw. And both he and his "powerful wife" are equally horrible to lower class people, especially women.
This is hands-down the funniest section of the article and we're only three bullet points in.
Thetis and Persephone have never even so much as spoken one word to each other outside of the courtroom that Thetis technically put her in after plotting against her for an entire season.
Eros is a man. Nothing wrong with that but it comes with the unintentional icky hilarity of implying that because Eros is the gay best friend, that means he's a woman.
They literally don't read this fucking comic-
Everyone always relies on this weird talking point of Demeter not being able to "let Persephone go"... y'all, she just didn't want Persephone to outright move to Olympus, she wanted her to commute. That was it! That was literally the only problem! She wasn't preventing Persephone from pursuing a higher education or telling her she wasn't allowed to work, she literally fucking encouraged it! And with the added later context of Persephone killing a bunch of mortals - and, ironically, the fact that Persephone was assaulted/put in harm's way by TWO SEPARATE MEN in the first two days of her time in Olympus - yeah, I don't blame Demeter for not wanting her daughter to move cold turkey actually LOL
Also hilarious that they claim Rachel has turned "tradition" into "innovation" when the only thing she's managed to do is set back modern feminism in her young adult readers by 80 years and re-establish misogynist brainwashing in her adult ones. Rachel, your fanbase was literally shipping a victim of abuse with her abuser just a few days ago.
oh boy this is uh
this is some cult shit ngl
and the "rewriting the script of Greek mythology" part is VERY concerning knowing what we know about Lore Olympus and who it was written by. This is literally cultural appropriation, full stop, and it exists because Lore Olympus - and works like it, made by people like Rachel - exists.
I can't even commit to the original theory that this was written by a bot because it all feels very pointed and intenetional. This is being written by someone who, at the very least, REALLY sucks at media analysis and writing, because the entire article is just "Lore Olympus, buzzword, Lore Olympus, buzzword, buzzword, Lore Olympus", it's like a white knight incantation for guilty virtue signallers who have zero clue what they're talking about. And at worst, yes, it's appropriation from someone who doesn't mind taking a culture's stories and myths and promoting their erasure by people outside of the culture like Rachel.
And that's it, that's literally the article lmao
*EDIT: There was a section here before addressing the writer of the article from a very opinionated POV that, while isn't unusual for what I do here, did feel necessary to remove after I was contacted by the article writer who addressed the flaws in their original article and is now seeking to correct them with revisions/an article rewrite. So I felt it only fair as a compromise to at least remove that section as it really doesn't have a whole lot to do with this post as a whole and can be removed without entirely ruining the flow of this analysis. If/when that article is rewritten, I'll be revisiting this post and my overall analysis !
And honestly, it's all really telling, because this does accurately reflect the state of the LO fanbase.
Not only do many of the people who defend this comic like it's their job not pick up on the blatant misogynist tones that are going on in its narrative (I can't even call them "undertones" anymore, they're no longer that subtle) but whether or not they even read the comic at all is up for debate with how much stuff they tend to get wrong in their own arguments and justifications. And this is something that's VERY regularly seen in the fanbase discussions, readers will constantly be unaware of things that happened because they skimmed through it at lightning speed just to see if Hades and Persephone kiss and so they can get the top comment on Webtoons so they can be "ahead of the fanbase". It's no wonder that Rachel has gotten used to getting away with retconning things because her fanbase didn't even read what she established the first time.
Rachel's fanbase was literally defending the romance ship of an abuser and his victim on the newest FP episode preview. When that FP episode came out two nights ago and Hera said, point blank, that he didn't love her but abused her, I could only think of that portion of the fanbase who was very audibly simping over Kronos in the IG comment section. Are they actually having their moment of shameful clarity now? Or are they just gonna move the goalposts and pretend that didn't happen?
I don't want to say anything bad about Shelby here because she really seems like she's fighting for her life on this site that she's trying to get off the ground, but a lot of her other articles also come across as very one-note while being peppered with buzzwords that make it seem like what she's talking about is "progressive" when it really isn't. Case in point, Lessons in Chemistry has been commonly criticized for not actually appealing to the demographic that its Mary Sue-ish main character is supposed to represent - women in STEM career fields.
I've said it before, and I'll say it again: Lore Olympus is not 'feminism', it's white feminism that is designed to appeal to predominantly heterocis white women who think the solution to misogyny is to willingly submit to it and accept the status quo - that it's "empowering" if the woman is smiling and having all her needs paid for by a man. Sure, I can accept that different women will be looking for different relationship dynamics, some women genuinely are happy being in a relationship where they support their husbands first and foremost. But can that truly be called feminism? Or is the real feminism the choices we make along the way that we should be given the freedom to make?
It says a lot about the folks who tend to regularly prop up LO on a pedestal like this as some "revolution in feminism" despite the contrary after spending more than just 30 seconds skimming the attention-grabbing art, and Shelby is just one of many. She's not the worst of the bunch, though.
That goes to someone else who I want to give proper light to in their own essay. Someone who definitely earned a good stern talking-to this past week and has, thankfully, had consequences dished out to her for her horrible actions towards queer POC writers.
If you know, you know. If you don't, buckle up.
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FINAL for real this time: Davis (Juror 8) from Twelve Angry Men vs the Bimodal Distribution from statistics
Propaganda under the cut, and it's REALLY worth it:
Davis (Juror 8) (these are all from the single submitter)
a quick lil list babes, and I apologise for all of this in advance:
He's from the fucking film 12 angry men. like, aside from letterbox bootlickers and middle school hass students NO ONE has watched this film let alone care about it, it was made in 1957, is shot almost exclusively in one room and the entire film is just middle aged white men yelling at each other over whether some not white poor kid should be sent to the electric chair. what the fuck.
Henry Fonda, the actor, was 52 years old at the time of filming
Henry Fonda is the father of Jane Fonda, the woman who would revolutionise the 80's with her home workouts and her blindingly neon leg warmers.
His name wasn't revealed until the very end of the film and even then it's just "Davis."
I could honestly give him a lil smooch
He's absolutely not girlypop but he's the ally-iest ally who's ever allied
He's categorised as a "Benevolent Leader" on the Heroes Wiki
instead of the overwhelming urge for me to coddle him like most all other blorbos, i would appreciate it switched
I have a photo of him inside my saxophone case and sometimes i forget he's in there, then he creeps into my saxophone bell and when I play it he shoots out like a ballistic missile
Dude, on ao3 there's more fanfiction about the real life 80's British punk band The Clash than the entire film of 12 angry men, let alone Davis (80 fics come up under the clash, while 10 come up for 12 angry men)
I have a counter, and I've watched 12 Angry men a total of 145 times. The figure is up on my wall in tallies. whenever the number goes up, I like to watch it in 5's so then I can put another full group of tallies on my wall.
I have incredibly detailed stories about how Davis would boogie down to ringo starr's solo career, and they're written within the margins of a book called Tobruk written by Peter Fitzsimons. The only reason I reread that book is to wonder at my elaborate works of fiction
My HASS teacher was the one to introduce me to 12 Angry Men as he played it for the entire class. He gave us a set of questions to complete on the film and a few Law based questions as a little treat, and he expected it to be handed in the next day. What he didn't expect was an 11 page monster of a response that included social commentary, 4 paragraphs dissecting the character of Davis alone, deeply discussed comparisons between the landscapes of politics and law in the 50's to the present, and basically an entire point-for-point summarisation of the film, completed with obscure quotes from Truman, Eisenhower, Nixon and Presley (Elvis). He presented the printed masterpiece in front of the entire class to shame me.
After class he explained how his favourite Juror would either be 6 or 5, because 6 seems like a big dumb teddybear and he just liked 5. I explained how I liked Davis because he didn't want to send a kid to die, then he told me how Davis would make a good cowboy (at this point in time I was unaware of Henry Fonda's role in Once Upon A Time in The West) and I proceeded to go home and write a 3 part orchestral composition that I could pretend would play as the soundtrack to Juror 8: A Cowboy's Tale or something like that
I had started to make an animation meme starring Davis but only gave up when photoshop literally deleted itself from my laptop
I didn't even hear that Juror 8's name was Davis when I first watched it in class, somehow I only heard it on my 6th rewatch but when I did I literally got so excited I literally got winded and cried a little bit, I had to take a panadol because I got so lightheaded
I have learned the musical motif that plays throughout the film on saxophone, clarinet, recorder, guitar, bass, ukulele, piano and trumpet
I have visions of him
One of Davis' 3 children HAS to be gay and nothing can convince me otherwise
honest to god I'd be a home wrecker if it came to him
I quote not only Davis but the film a lot, and sometimes in the dead silence of all my friends I go on about how the old man couldn't have possibly made it to the door in such a short amount of time to see the kid running down the stairs (because the old man has a limp, and Davis proved it my limping around the room, which I have to say was incredibly attractive of him)
He's literally an architect
I once had a dream where Davis was in my bass guitar case when I opened it, and i literally just picked him up and started picking him like a bass guitar until I tried to play a full chord and he bit the hand that was meant to be on the fretboard. I dropped him and he fell on his ass, and when I said "what the hell dude what was that for" he said bass chords are lowkey ugly to listen to, and since then i don't like playing bass chords because now they're lowkey ugly to listen to. before this ordeal, i enjoyed them, but alas
i once got my romantic partner to write me a davis x reader fanfiction as a birthday present
my parents believe that Davis is my first celebrity crush, and while they're actually wrong it's still actually so embarrassing they believe that because OH MY GOD it's literally JUROR 8 FROM 12 ANGRY MEN
I've attempted slam poetry about him
I've eaten a paper printed full a4 size photo of his hand
I would also not mind him to be literally my father, but given the rest of the things I've just said about him that's really weird and I recognise that
the Bimodal Distribution
First of all, it's a math concept. that is already pretty bizarre of a thing to be blorbo-ifying. Second of all, I don't know any calculus, and I don't consider myself a math person (because I hate arithmetic), but I really like this guy for some reason. I mean this graph clearly holds the secrets of the universe. don't you just want to l o o k at it . like you could solve everything in the world with that boy
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No but, Vampire!Alhaitham and his Darling who tends to keep a journal. Darling doodles in the journal sometimes, but also brings up their insecurities and stuff in it. And then one day, they accidentally fall asleep on the journal, with it wide open, while they were trying to finish writing in it.
I see your vision, Anon.
Let your journal(s) be sacred texts — because, they are to Alhaitham.
He's read the words and traced over the scribbles of coloured pens as many times as necessary for them to become inscribed in his subconscious. You're oblivious to this (technically) breach of privacy, as you are to many other things but how else can the vampire know of your innermost thoughts? You hiss if he even glances at that journal. Well, there's no need for force when he can just gaze over it peacefully at times like this.
What a shame it'd be as well, your little doodles and without context commentaries by the edges of the pages are far too amusing for him to miss out. If he hadn't sneaked glances at this precious item, he would've never known the reason why you scrutinize him intently at times was for trying to sketch his eyes. The only disappointing thing is that he's never had the honour of having any word written for him there, yet.
You've fallen asleep without much care to your surroundings again ; his brows furrow in worry, what would you do without him? He lifts your form gently from the couch, you've always looked so... innocent in your slumber, so vulnerable. He unconsciously cradles you tighter, about to proceed to your shared quarters when he notices the familiar journal laying wide open in the couch. With a detour and lean down, he's managed to pick it up, holding your weight on the other arm with ease.
The sight of pressed flowers and occasional pastel pigments greet his eyes, there's a paragraph of words written rather rushed than usual and he notes the gist for the moment at the back of his mind, promising to look over the matter later. The next page is uncharacteristically blank, almost. Save for the small doodles of leaves and one single sentence. He cannot believe what he's read the first time, going over it again and again and again til his head is echoing with it : the vampire isn't so bad.
At the same time, he feels you stirring in his arms but before he could be alarmed you merely lean closer to him and resume your dreams. He's quiet, unmoving, not breathing, processing it all for an uncertain amount of time. At last, he closes the journal and strides to his bedroom ; a smile tugging along his lips.
#yandere#yandere genshin impact#yandere genshin impact x reader#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin imagines#yandere alhaitham#yandere al haitham#vampire alhaitham#vampire al haitham#yandere vampire alhaitham#yandere vampire al haitham#yandere alhaitham x reader#yandere al haitham x reader#alhaitham x reader#al haitham x reader#alhaitham brainrot#genshin impact x reader#vampire alhaitham x reader#vampire al haitham x reader#genshin impact#al haitham#alhaitham#chit chat ; vampire alhaitham
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"Bonus chapter ended Elriel!"
But here's the thing - it didn't have to.
If SJM had a change of heart during writing ACOSF or even before and decided that Gwyn and Az will be the final couple, she could have easily simply ignored writing anything about Azriel's feelings towards Elain. She could have not written about stolen glances - she could have written a scene where they have a conversation without any subtext, just a friendly encounter so the readers would get a clear sign - they are just friends, they are not interested in each other in any way. She could have switched the narrative - making Az behave towards any other character the way he behaves with Elain and making Elain not care, not look at him, not practically dying for him to kiss her.
But she did not.
Instead she wrote paragraphs saying Azriel cannot stand the smell of the mating bond between Elain and Lucien (which is alarming on its own, given the fact that he should not be able to smell it in the first place), that this man spent the last year almost sleepless because he keeps thinking about that girl and the gift she picked for him. She wrote Azriel questioning the Cauldron itself and Elain willing to risk it all even tho her mate was sleeping upstairs. SJM said directly with all of these "look, those two WANT each other, those scenes in previous books DID indicate that there is a mutual wanting between them".
Place yourself as an author for a second - would you really spend three books placing hints and scenes foreshadowing a couple only to "end" them in the bonus chapter, which most of the readers won't even know exist? Would you, knowing that you plan for other couples to be an endgame, wrote about things that literally point that those two characters are so into each other they don't give a single fuck about bonds and religion? Would you write another male guessing something only a mate should be able to guess, the same male being the only one noticing the woman is missing and going on a suicidal mission to get her back? Would you write "you came for me"? Would you write a full scene of this woman emerging from the shadows (the literal power of said male), using the blade he let touching only her? Would you write her buying gifts for him but not for any other man?
And finally, if you plan to make those two end up with different characters anyway, would you really write them like that? Az being the person pining for someone for 500 years and being the one knowing for ignoring orders, only to slowly develop feelings towards someone else who wants him back, would suddenly forget about it and move to a new girl in a heartbeat just because somebody said so? Elain being the person who stated blankly "I don't want him" indicating to her mate, being someone who shall wed for love, suddenly deciding "yes, you know what, I don't want this man who showed me nothing but kindness and who was the only one who actually saw and listened, who saved my life and then gave me a weapon to defend myself, I'm gonna be with my mate now, even tho I'm shrinking with discomfort whenever I'm near him". Even if it fits your fantasies, it does not fit the way characters were written. And at the end of the day, it's not the fantasies that matter. It's what has been written and given us to read and see ourselves.
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What is cuneiform?
@ipsomaniac asked if I could explain the cuneiform system, and so I am going to give it a shot. Here goes! (Update: it got long! But there's pictures!)
Part I: What does it look like? How do we work with it?
This is the cuneiform script:
This is a first-millennium BC text of Sargon II, in Akkadian (specifically Neo-Assyrian). My user icon is a much older Sumerian text. In a second we'll see some Hittite. Just like the Latin script is used for English, French, Turkish, and many other languages today, the cuneiform script was used for lots of languages in the ancient world. It changed a bit over three thousand years of constant use, but it remains pretty recognizable because of the wedges. "Cuneiform" is just Latin for "wedge-shaped," because scholars love giving things banal names and then translating them into Latin or Greek so no one can tell.
This is a Hittite tablet:
This particular tablet is part of the royal funerary ritual (which has many many MANY tablets, many of which are way more broken than this one, and/or missing entirely). It's been pieced together from lots of fragments, all excavated separately. (You can see their excavation numbers written on the fragments, e.g. 39/c.) It's written on clay, like most of their texts were. This is a pretty good amount of preservation for a tablet this size - many are more fragmentary. I wish the picture were better, but tablets are not catalogued by how good the pictures are and it would have taken a million years to find a really hi-res one suitable for our purposes.
You can see that each symbol is made up of a bunch of wedges. These were pressed into the clay with a stylus while it was still wet. If you look closely, you can also spot spaces between words (more obvious at the end of a paragraph).
Here's a little slice of our tablet:
And here's a drawing of that same little slice. This is how scholars usually interact with texts on a day-to-day basis, because taking readable photos of tablets is difficult and going to see the tablets is more difficult. Drawings are made by experts in the presence of the tablets and published so that everyone can look at them.
Here the scholar who did this drawing (published in Keilschrifturkunden aus Boghazköi vol. 39, text no. 4) was working with only some of the fragments, and so has written in the transliteration of the left half, which they weren't copying. So you can see how each cuneiform sign corresponds to a written syllable, sometimes in lowercase, sometimes in all caps, and sometimes in superscript.
What does all this mean? How does it work? Okay. Cuneiform is a really difficult and frustrating writing system to read, for a few reasons. 1) It grew organically from a time before writing existed, so people were just kind of slowly figuring out how to use pictures to represent words; 2) it lasted for thousands of years, so there were all sorts of innovations tacked on without necessarily jettisoning any of the old stuff; and 3) it was borrowed through quite a few languages, almost none of which were related to one another, so it had to twist around and adapt to totally different sounds and word structures. So it's weird! And hard to learn, especially for us, because we are not native speakers of any of the languages that used it, and also we're not a single person existing in a snapshot of time, where cuneiform had a specific form and iteration - we're looking at its whole span of three thousand years.
THAT SAID. I can explain some stuff about it and how it worked! Here goes!
Part 2: How does it work as a writing system?
We start with a picture. Let's use a star. Like this: 𒀭
Or this:
(this is a student text copying the star sign over and over - ignore the leftmost column. I got it from this excellent thread here)
This is the cuneiform sign for the sky, or for a god. In Sumerian, the language that first used cuneiform, the word for "sky" is AN. The word for "god" is DINGIR. So this sign could be pronounced either AN, and mean sky, or DINGIR, and mean god. This sort of usage is called "logographic" - a sign equals a word. It started as just a picture of a star, and came to mean a couple of things associated with the stars.
Eventually, there reaches a point where it doesn't just only mean the word "sky," it also means the syllable "an." That is, you could use it to represent a part of a word, or a grammatical element, that was pronounced "an." (E.g., ma-ah-ha-an: mahhan, which is a Hittite word that means "when," and which is written with four signs, including our an.) This is called the rebus principle: like a rebus puzzle, a picture of an eye can also mean "I" because they sound the same. This usage supplements the logograms rather than replacing them: you could still use "an" to mean "sky." You know which usage is in play based on context. (Or at this stage, maybe you don't. Sumerian is real hard and we don't understand it perfectly.)
You can also use signs a third way, which is designed to make reading easier: as what's called a "determinative." A determinative tells you what type of thing a word is. So if you use the star symbol as a determinative, it comes before a word and indicates that upcoming is a god's name. It's not pronounced when it's used like that. Other determinatives include: male and female markers, plural markers, markers to indicate what something is made of, what kind of animal it is, etc.
So any sign you see could potentially be a word (logogram), a sound (syllable), or a soundless classifier (determinative). In practice, only some signs take on all three of these functions.
When we transcribe signs now, we write them in Latin script based on which function they're serving. That's why, in the above Hittite texts, some of the signs were written in all-caps (for logograms), some of them in lowercase (for syllables), and some of them in superscript (for determinatives).
So then Akkadian borrows the system. They like to spell words out a lot more than the Sumerians do, so more and more signs are used primarily for their syllables, rather than their meaning. The signs also take on more syllabic meanings, because Akkadian has different words behind the logograms, and also has different sounds than Sumerian. A lot of signs end up doing double, triple or even-more-ple duty (e.g. the sign for "ag" can also be read "ak" or "aq" in an Akkadian text). Once again, you know how to read a sign from context, and in Akkadian you usually actually do know, because Akkadian is a Semitic language rather than an isolate like Sumerian, so we understand it way, way better.
Akkadian keeps using the symbols as logograms, though, too. Sometimes they'll spell out a word, but sometimes they'll just use the logographic symbol for it - like how sometimes we write out "two," and sometimes just write "2". Sometimes there are full Sumerian words or combinations of words that have become logograms: that is, they're not loanwords. They're not pronounced in Sumerian. They're written as a symbol (like 2), and the Akkadian word would be pronounced underneath (like "two.") The Akkadians also keep using determinatives.
At this point, most signs at least have a logographic value and a few syllabic values. Also (to make it extra difficult) plenty of syllables have a couple of different signs that could be used to represent them. In total there's a bit over a thousand cuneiform signs, incidentally, but usually only a few hundred were in use at any given time and place.
Then Hittite borrows it! They actually overall reduce the number of signs used, and the number of signs doing double duty, so it's generally simpler to read. Hittite's sound system is totally different from Akkadian's, though - which is totally different from Sumerian's - so they do some weird stuff with which signs represent which sounds. (The result of this is that our understanding of Hittite phonetics is somewhat imperfect.) They do use a ton of logograms whenever they're talking about physical objects, especially ritual offerings. Ritual texts are A PAIN IN THE ASS to read because they're full up with obscure logograms, and so you pore over a signlist trying to work out what the bonkers twelve-wedge sign you've never seen before is, and then when you finally find it you're like, "oh ANOTHER kind of bread. cool cool."
Part 3: Let's Read Hittite! (This is probably excessive.)
So finally, let's read some together! This is two lines from the Ten-Year Annals of Mursili II, an account of the first ten years of that king's reign. It's mostly conquering, but this bit is calmer.
(ANNOYINGLY, Tumblr will not do superscript, or I cannot make it anyway, so I will put determinatives in parentheses.)
nam-ma (URU)Ha-at-tu-ši ú-wa-nu-un nu (URU)Ha-at-tu-ši
gi-im-ma-an-da-ri-nu-un nu-za EZEN4.HI.A ŠA MU.6.KAM i-ya-nu-un
That's the text rendered sign-by-sign. Everything that is separated by a dash, a period, a space, or a parenthesis is a separate sign. Words are separated with spaces. Here's a more normalized rendition of the words (still with the logograms, though).
namma (URU)Hattusi uwanun nu (URU)Hattusi gimmandarinun nu=za EZEN4.HI.A ŠA MU.6.KAM iyanun
"Then I went to Hattusa, and I spent the winter in Hattusa and performed the festivals of the sixth year."
The ú in uwanun in the first line is written with an accent because there are several signs that can mean "u" and this is the second one. Similar for EZEN4: there's more than one sign for EZEN, and this is the fourth. Scholars always write logograms and determinatives in Sumerian, because that's where the meanings were fixed. URU, used before Hattusa, is both the determinative for "city" and the Sumerian word meaning the same. ŠA in the last line is italicized and capitalized because it's a logogram that comes from Akkadian: "ša" means "of" in Akkadian, and the Hittites used Akkadian words as logograms just like the Akkadians used Sumerian words.
Anyway, that's how cuneiform works! If you made it this far you're a hero! <3
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What the Future Holds Ch. 1
Author: xxwritemeastoryxx
Pairings: No set pairings.
Word Count: 3198
Warnings: 18+ MDNI please! There really isn't anything to warn about in this one. We're just getting started. There canon typical threats and mentions of free will being taken away. A single mention of being sold. I think that's it.
Author’s Note: This should have been out ages ago, but it's finally done and ready for you guys! Also I would like to note that in this chapter, the twins are 20 years old. I usually try to keep age out of my fics but for some reason it was a detail that was needed. However, before we fully jump into the story the twins will be 25.
I do not and will not ever give permission for my fics to be copied and posted on other sites. Don’t do it. Don’t be that person that ruins it for me and everyone else.
Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. While likes are appreciated, reblogs are gold. Seriously, if you enjoyed this in the slightest, please reblog ♥
A sense of deja vu washed over the L/Ns as they stood within the Mikaelson study. Elijah had stood by the large bay windows as he went over the written contract in his hands. Each paragraph of it he had read thrice to ensure he hadn’t missed anything. Anything to help them out of their own stupidity.
“What persuaded you to go to the De Martels?” Elijah’s voice had almost sounded bored. Almost as if he wasn’t worried about the details that the pages contained. But after being around for as long as he had, it was as easy as breathing to make it seem like there was nothing to be worried about.
“We weren’t meeting deadlines as we should have been.” Dante L/N had said keeping his chin up. Unlike his visit with his rather distant grandmother, he wouldn’t look away from Elijah. He knew that all he had to do was blink the wrong way and there was a possibility of not opening his eyes again. “With the recent region transfer of powers, we were close to losing everything.”
The regions were constantly changing. Ever since the uprising, country and state lines no longer existed. Territories were claimed through slaughter while creating new lines. Regions belonged to those who had dared to take it over and maintain it. This family of L/N’s had lived on the border of where the De Martels had taken over and where The Mikaelsons had control of the region.
The Mikaelsons’ region contained what used to be a majority of the southern states. Most of the gain had been due to Klaus claiming it. Taking out the annoying young that refused to listen had been easy. Running the region had been a completely different story. One that Klaus left Elijah to deal with.
The stories that had been passed down through the generations had expressed that Elijah had changed since the vampires had taken over the world. The nobility of the Original vampire had died the moment his eldest sister had been murdered at the hands of humans that sought out to rid the world of the supernatural.
The L/Ns hadn’t personally known the Mikaelsons until recently. The young couple had barely made it back home after the birth of their twins when they were introduced to the Mikaelsons. A binding contract had been made that night. One that would ensure that the family would be protected until the children became of age.
“Why not come to me with these matters?” Elijah asked as he placed the contract down on the table. “The De Martels may have obtained new territory, but that does not instantly grant them ownership of business.”
It amused Elijah on how easily humans nowadays would jump into the agreement with vampires without looking over anything. While at times it had been amusing, he longed for the days that the humans would actually think before making a deal with a devil.
“Much like the night you came to us,” Dante began. “The De Martels had come knocking. Every piece of data had been combed through and used to present us with this offer. I believed it to be beneficial, until Clara had expressed how blindly I had gone into this.”
A small smirk pulled at the corner of Elijah’s lips. “How is the darling Clara doing these days?” He had known Clara for a handful of centuries. While he had never interfered in her life in ways he wished he had, he watched as the woman had grown into a power of her own. “Must have been one painstakingly long night if she looked over this.” He waved his hand towards the contract.
“Is there truly no loophole?” Dante’s wife asked, ignoring the questions that had been asked by the vampire. “I do not wish to be rude, but I know the safety of my children is at stake. And with that safety is also the agreement we have with your family. I’d hate for it to be violated by my husband's mistake.”
Elijah sighed as looked at her. “There is no loophole. The De Martels know how to work things in their favor. But with or without your husband’s ‘mistake’.” His eyes flashed over to him for a moment before looking back towards her. “I give you my word that I will do everything in my power to ensure your children stay safe.” He watched as she let out a shuddering breath. Even if the stories said he had become ruthless, everyone knew his word was binding. Elijah Mikelson never broke his word.
“Thank you.” She said with a slight nod.
He nodded in return. “How are their lessons?”
The three of them knew this was a way to change the subject. To change it in a way that would give the two humans some breathing room, even if it was just for a moment.
“Alexander is thriving.” She said with a smile pulling at her lips. “We believe that in a few years time he’ll be able to take over the business and when the time is right, he’ll do fine with the prophecy you’ve told us.”
“What of Y/N?” Elijah asked and he watched their faces fall. It caused him to raise a brow.
“Her head is in the clouds more.” She said with a sigh. “It is as if she knows that her life will be set and the importance of lessons isn’t at the top of her list.”
“Perhaps I should speak with her.” Elijah offered. He watched their eyes widen for a moment in fear. “Fear and ignorance is what has led us into our current situation. Striking fear into Y/N will do nothing but hinder her. It is my intention to help steer her in the right direction.”
“With Compulsion?” Dante asked, a bit of venom lacing his words. The need to protect his daughter rising within his veins.
Elijah scoffed. “Anyone else would. They’d actually do worse to her in order to get her to fall in line.” With each word that he said the two in front of him had their fear grow at the possibilities that could happen to their daughter. “It’d be easy to bend her mind to do as needed. To make her obedient. However, my method of speaking to someone who could potentially change the course of things isn’t to manipulate them in any way. I was merely suggesting a moment to encourage her to use those clouds she's found herself in to her advantage.”
If there was one thing that hadn’t changed with Elijah, his way with words was enough to give the right push without so much as using compulsion. There were other methods to ensure things were done as they needed to be. And while he would occasionally use compulsion to his advantage on numerous occasions, using it on Y/N was and never would be considered an advantage. Not when some twist in Fate deemed the L/N twins the very two that would give the world back the balance nature so desperately wanted.
Before the Vampires had taken over, Freya had strange premonitions that gave heavy meanings to peace and balance. Flashes of a future that seemed so chaotic and almost barbaric had plagued the witch for weeks with no understanding of what it could mean. What threat the Mikaelsons would face.
Elijah could easily remember the day Freya had told him and their siblings of some prophecy that was shown to her. The details were almost laughable. How could a world change so much to warrant nature to demand a balance when the details of it all had seemed so fictional. While the majority of the siblings had brushed it off, Elijah had asked for every details.
“The natural balance of things will be threatened. I do not know by who or what, let alone when this chaos is supposed to unfold.” Freya explained. “I just know that a particular set of twins from a particular bloodline are supposed to be the balance that we will need.”
“What kind of balance would they even be capable of providing?” Elijah asked. He had known about several covens and their fascination with twins.
“One will stay human. The other will become a vampire when the time is right.” She explained. “What I’ve seen of them, they aren’t of current times. It will be some time before they are even born, let alone old enough for what needs to be done.”
“Nature doesn’t wait for it’s balance to manifest generations later.” He noted.
“I know.” She sighed. “That is where it doesn’t make sense. Why will the balance favor vampires so easily? All I know are the images and names of the children. Something horrible is going to happen, Elijah and I don’t know if I’ll be around to help fix it.”
“Tell me how I can help.” He offered, wanting to ease the worry that was building up within his sister.
“Unless you know fraternal twins named Alexander and Y/N L/N, then I don’t even know where to start with the help.”
A month later the world descended into chaos and there wasn’t much the Mikaelsons could do to stop it from unfolding. They could only adapt as the world changed. Including murdering the hundreds of humans that had hunted down and murdered every witch within New Orleans, including Freya.
Elijah had kept every detail Freya had told him locked within his mind. A way to hold on to not only the memory of his sister, but to make sure he did everything he could to help fulfill the prophecy that she had seen.
It had been Clara that had told Elijah about the twins when they had been born. At first it had only been mentioned out of disbelief. The L/Ns never had twins in their family and the first set had been born within the freedom of her protection. From there, Elijah had questioned about their names. And when he had every detail, he knew they were who Freya had seen.
That had been twenty years ago. Elijah had created a contract that would work in the world’s favor. The twins would get the protection they needed while ensuring they received the proper education and training for what was destined for them. While Elijah had hoped that ‘right time’ wouldn’t come until they were well into their twenties, he couldn’t be a hundred percent about it. All he could do was prepare them.
“She does prefer you over her recent tutors.” Her voice broke Elijah from his thoughts of the past. “Maybe speaking with you would be best.”
She was trying to ease the tension that was growing between the three of them. It hadn’t been a lie though. The three of them had noticed the way Y/N had preferred the way Elijah tutored her over the hired tutors. She wasn’t so easily distracted with the humans that tried to keep up with the lessons that Elijah had instructed the twins take.
Elijah nodded his head. “Have they traveled with you?”
“Of course.” Dante nodded.
“Then send her in and I’ll discuss it with her.” That was the only kind of dismissal that Elijah was giving them. He wasn’t going to continue the conversation when he knew it would lead to Elijah probably losing his temper on Dante over his stupidity.
He watched as the pair collected their things, including the contract and stepped out of the study. Elijah had been alone for only a few moments before Y/N had stepped into the room. She hadn’t even bothered to knock on the door. And for a brief moment, an amused smile pulled at Elijah’s lips.
“My parents said you wished to speak with me?” She asked as she closed the study door behind her.
It was strange to see how much she had reminded him of how humans used to react before things changed. In comparison to her parents Y/N didn’t give off an ounce of fear. Where her mother had kept her eyes downward, Y/N’s eyes stayed focused on him. There wasn’t even fear that he’d use compulsion with how she held his gaze.
Her eyes had matched her mother’s but there were flecks of silver that seemed to find a new home within her irises any time she blinked. Alexander’s eyes had the same thing but with gold flecks. But unlike Y/N, the flecks never seemed to change position as hers did. But there was one thing for certain as Elijah took in her eyes. She did not fear the world around her one bit.
“I did.” He nodded his head. “I was told your preference of tutors is making it difficult to focus on your studies.”
The neutrality she had on her features the moment she walked in had now shifted. A slight frown had pulled at her lips. However her eyes never left his face. “It’s not a matter of preferring specific tutors. It feels one sided.” When she watched him raise his brow, she continued. “The tutors are human. Any history lessons that are being provided are from that of a human. A human that has learned the details with prejudices embedded. I find it difficult to understand it when venom is laced in the words so often.”
A small hum of acknowledgement had left Elijah. “That is the point of some of those lessons. Words spewed out of hatred when the world descended into chaos will give you an opened mind when learning of what can be prevented. Yes, a vampire could give you more in depth details and firsthand accounts. It would include, if not be filled with more of the same venom about humans.”
“I understand.” She nodded. She paused for a moment, sorting out her words. “I know my tutors have been switched out more often than Alex. I do try, Elijah. I pass my courses and attempt to stay on track. But-”She stopped herself. A string of thoughts playing through her mind that she should probably keep the matter to herself. “I will make sure I do not disappoint.”
Elijah hadn’t missed the way she stopped herself or how her eyes had shifted away as she decided against whatever it was she was about to say. He had known how many times the tutors had changed. He had been the one to replace them each time. He just never understood why, until he was speaking with her now.
“Alexander doesn’t receive the same venom in the lessons.” It wasn’t a question, but Y/N began shaking her head quickly.
“No. He does not.” Her eyes hadn’t come back up to Elijah. She had now been looking down at her hands. “I know this prophecy like the back of my hand. I know I am supposed to help restore the balance with Alex. I am human until necessary. I do not expect to be treated as some savior that has the world at their feet.” She finally brought her attention back up to Elijah. She could see something different within his eyes that she didn’t believe she had seen before. She just couldn’t place what it was. “But I’d prefer not to be treated as if I am filth for being the one to become a vampire in this deal.”
“You haven't mentioned this to your parents?” Elijah found himself walking around the desk, attempting to give some comfort. Though he made no move to actually do so.
“Not since the first time.” She shook her head. “They feel as though I am crying wolf when Alex doesn’t have the same thing happening to him.
Elijah nodded. “Tomorrow, you’ll have a new tutor. Alexander will continue on with the one he currently has.” When he saw her open her mouth to protest, he held up his hand. “A vampire one to ensure the cycle doesn’t continue.”
“My parents-”
“Will be made aware of who they will be inviting into their home.” He gave a single nod of his head. “We will try it this way. If there isn't improvement, we’ll change it back to the way it was.” Elijah watched as she nodded her head. “That will be all.”
Y/N nodded her head before she turned around to leave. She had barely taken a step before turning back around. “Elijah, there is something you should know about, that my parents do not know yet. Only because I wouldn't put it past them to tell you.”
“What would that be?” He asked.
“I’ve- we’ve been having visions of things.” She watched the way his eyes widened slightly. “Things from the past and possibly future things from the look of it. But it wakes us up like a nightmare. Alex denies that it’s happening, but I can hear him pacing at night just after I have mine.”
“What was the last thing you saw?” He asked curiously.
“Chaos.” She shrugged slightly. “Witches being murdered. A woman with blonde hair tried to reach out, but couldn’t. It was like she was trying to tell me something and I couldn’t figure it out.”
“How often do these happen?” He knew this was something to do with who the twins were, what they were meant for.
“It randomly happens. Once or twice a month. But the first one happened the night of our birthday. “
Elijah moved back towards the desk and opened one of the bottom drawers before coming back around. He came to a stop directly in front of her and handed her an empty journal. “Write them down, please. Any detail you recall once you wake. Even if it frightens you to think, write it down. The next time either I drop by or your parents come to see me, bring it. That way we can try to piece together what you are seeing.”
Taking the journal, she held it close to her and nodded her head. “It's getting close, isn't it?”
Elijah sighed softly. “That I don’t know. But it seems like it may be the beginning of it.”
Her eyes fell to the journal in her hands. “There's one vision that I think you should know about now.” She couldn't bring her eyes back up. Not with what she was about to tell him. And the thoughts of the vision actually caused her eyes to well up.
Elijah hadn't missed the way her voice almost dropped to a whisper. Nor did he miss the way she was purposely keeping her attention from him. And for the first time since he met Y/N, he saw the fear that was seeping into her.
He gently brought his fingers under chin and lifted it, bringing her attention towards him. He saw the tears instantly and if anything the silver flecks in her eyes were almost gone.
“What is it?” His voice had almost been the same level as hers, with a comforting touch.
“I was still human.” She began. A need to make it known that detail was clear in the vision. “I was sold to Purgatory.”
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I LOVE your Wednesday! I was wondering if you can write a Wednesday/gn!Reader where the reader writes to her a love letter and wants to give it to her with a black rose but they see Xavier give to her the cellphone so, thinking they're dating, Reader just throws away the letter and the rose.
Wednesday finds them..
Looky looky here, two fics in one day. This one was fun to write, I loved the idea!
im no poet
You were no writer. No amount of your rambling thoughts could compare to those of Shakespeare, Hemingway, or even Wednesday Addams. All those big emotions came out in actions, not words, and not even your mouth could keep up or properly convey all you wanted to. No, most of those big, bottled up feelings ended up left unspoken.
But for Wednesday, you gave it a try.
It had started with a very heated debate about the phrase “actions speak louder than words.” She, of course, had opted to disagree, claiming her words spoke pretty loud. They sure do, you thought as you shook your head and counter-argued. It was by no means an argument, much more of an actual debate with each side presenting their case.
You lost. Because, as you had previously pointed out, you were not good with your words.
Not a bad thing though, you realised once you sat down to try and write out how you felt. The first few paragraphs were messy; no structure, no reason, barely coherent. You crumpled the paper into a ball and tossed it into the corner of the room, not even attempting to hit the trash can. But you pulled out another piece of paper and started again.
It took half a notebook before you could even start making sense of your words. Even then, it wasn’t what you wanted to say. How could you even start to explain why you were writing such a letter? Should you start it off with “Hello, I think I’m in love with you?” Words wouldn’t work.
Words wouldn’t work.
You put your pen to paper - the third pen you had ruined so far - and started explaining your emotions the only way you knew how: with actions. The feelings she envoked in you couldn’t be put into words, not so simply. No, because she made you want to live, and living was such a beautiful thing. That rare smile of hers made you feel as if you were running through the farm of your childhood. Laughing as you ran up and down the crop rows until your bare feet were dirty and tired and you collapsed in the field with the feeling of utter peace that only a child could experience.
Being with her made you want to do every little thing she had never considered was important to her. It made you want to bring her coffee whenever she was writing, or turning the page of her music as she played. You would connect your headphones whenever she came in because you knew she liked the silence. Or grabbing all the songs she enjoyed and turning them into a personalised record that she could use without having to switch them out all the time.
When it was all said and done, you had exhausted five pens, half a notebook, and came out with three pages of a written confession.
You had asked Miss Thornhill if you could raid the greenhouse. It wasn’t that you were a teacher’s pet, but you knew how to kiss up when needed. She agreed quickly, and all you had to give up were a few Saturdays of your time to help clean up and organise. A fair trade, no consideration needed.
The Black Dahlias weren’t in bloom, so you hoped Wednesday would settle for a black rose. That was still romantic, right? It was black, at least, that had to count for something. A small envelope, a single black rose, your bright shining face. What more could she want?
“I already put my number in it,” Xavier’s voice rang out even though he was talking fairly quietly.
He bought her a phone. The very thing she had adamantly refused to become a slave to. Yet she took it from him anyway. Oh, you thought with a furrow of your brows. Suddenly the items in your hand felt like lead, weighing you down and you almost wished they would drag you under the ground to escape.
It had been a crapshoot to make a move, you knew that anyway, but it still hurt nonetheless. Wednesday gave the equivalent of a smile, and you nodded to yourself in silent acceptance. You wouldn’t ever wish to put her in a position to “choose” between two people. So instead you turned around and started walking off. You only paused at a trash can to drop the rose and letter inside, patting the cold silver can twice before walking away.
You didn’t see Wednesday watch you leave with worry in her eyes.
“Go see,” Xavier said with a gesture of his head.
Wednesday didn’t hesitate to walk over to the trash can and pick up the rose and envelope. The sight of the flower made her heart race; had you gotten that for her? What had possessed you to get her something like that? You knew she was difficult to get along with, why would you go out of your way to get her a rose in her favourite colour?
And the envelope. It had her name on it.
“What’s their number?” Wednesday asked Xavier. He gave her a smile and gestured for her to hand him her phone.
—---
You practically fell onto the bench in the lockerroom of your hometown gym. After getting out of school a few weeks ago, you had thrown yourself into helping out at the gym. The owner was a family friend and he had quickly accepted your offer. It was an added bonus that he gave you full access to the gym, too.
It was almost time to start closing up, but you had managed to get a good workout in once everyone was gone. Hell, you deserved it, the girl you were in love with was very clearly not in love with you. In fact, she was nice and happy, and even though that’s all you wanted, it still hurt.
You never even told her, your mind thought.
“Oh shut up,” you mumbled as your head fell into your hands.
With a sigh, you pushed yourself up to your feet and grabbed your change of clothes from your bag. Maybe you just needed to change and get home so you could wallow in your self-pity and fall asleep with some Kitchen Nightmares on in the background. That would surely keep your mind busy. God, you were pathetic.
You were pulling your clean shirt back over your head when your phone vibrated against the bench. No one should have been texting you this late, everyone you talked to knew you were usually asleep. Besides, why would they be texting you this late? Didn’t they know you were in mourning?
The screen lit up when you held your face over it, still adjusting your clothes to fit properly.
Unknown Number: You forgot this. 1 Attachment.
“Oh fuck.” It was a photo of the rose and envelope with Wednesday’s name on it.
You: I’m sorry. You can toss it I didn’t know about Xavier
Oh god, why was this happening? Why did this have to happen? Getting silently rejected was hard enough, but now there was going to be humiliation too? You lifted your hands to grab the sides of your head as you started pacing, trying to keep yourself grounded. That’s it, you weren’t going back to Nevermore. Nope, you were going to run away, maybe live in the woods and find a Bigfoot family to take care of you.
The phone vibrated again and you rushed over.
Unknown: Did you mean it? What you wrote.
“Fuck!” You shouted. What did you say? There’s no way you could say “Yes, Wednesday, I meant every word of devotion that I wrote on that letter. Tell your boyfriend I said hi.” But if you didn’t let her know now, it was going to eat away at you until the day you died. Fuck fuck fuck!
You grabbed the phone and typed out the one word, but your thumbs stilled over the “send” button while your heart tried to beat out of your chest.
You pressed send.
You: Yes
“Oh shit,” you groaned. Your hands were getting clammy. “Why did I do that.” Oh god. Oh shit. Why wasn’t she answering? There goes any chance of even being friends again. You were going to have to change your name and run away. Surely your family would understand, right? Yeah, they could even help you come up with a new identity.
The vibration against the bench was about to send you into a frenzy.
Unknown: Call me tomorrow night. We can watch the new Scream movie.
You had never typed so fast in your life.
You: Is this a date?
The text couldn’t come quickly enough.
Unknown: Yes. But if you tell anyone, I will remove your tongue.
You stared at your phone in utter disbelief. A date. With Wednesday Addams. A real date with the girl you were highkey in love with. Your letter had worked. It had worked!
You: It’s a date
A smile took over your face as you put your phone back into your bag. You had a date.
“Fuck yes!” You shouted as you threw your fist in the air. You were definitely calling out of work tomorrow.
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AUgust Day 28:
loose 27 dresses au - perpetually single steve has been a groomsman more times than he can remember. school friends, college pals, colleagues, family members, they all want him. after having attended 3 weddings in a day, watching couple after couple profess their everlasting love for each other, steve decides to head to a bar, and get DRUNK.
there, he meets eddie: charming, sexy, quick-witted and more than a match as a drinking companion. the night passes in shades of beer, whisky and tequila, and as they talk, steve shares his honestly ridiculous wedding stats. eddie is fascinated, encourages steve to talk more, to send him photos of each wedding he’s been part of this year; steve thinks he’s met the One.
over the next few weeks, they date, and steve feels himself falling, finally. until an article pops up in his favorite magazine, written by a columnist that had usually, until now, remained anonymous. it’s simply titled:
Always the Groomsman, Never the Groom: Are Some People Just Not Meant For a Happy Ending?
written by eddie munson.
steve manages to read the first paragraph before he starts feeling sick. he can’t believe that eddie, sweet, lovely, kind eddie, could have used him like this, could have published it. steve feels himself blushing furiously as he stashes the magazine in his bag and heads straight for eddie’s apartment. he paces outside for a full minute before knocking, and then holds up the page in the magazine accusatorially. eddie greets him with a broad smile at first, which dissolves when he spots steve’s tear stained cheeks and distraught expression.
“why would you write this?” steve demands, failing to keep his voice from shaking. eddie’s brow furrows.
“what- what do you mean?”
“not meant for a happy ending?” steve quotes, throat thick. it’s embarrassing to even say the words aloud, let alone to the person who wrote them, about him. steve’s grip on the magazine trembles as he clutches at his nerve.
“steve,” eddie starts slowly. he swallows hard. “steve, did you read the whole thing?”
“don’t think i needed to, did i? i think it was perfectly clear what you were getting at.” steve stares at the floor between their feet, betrayed, heartbroken, lost.
eddie carefully takes the magazine from him and begins to speak, eyes flicking up nervously every couple seconds.
“so no, i don’t think everyone is meant to have a happy ending. but i do think everyone deserves one. and no one as much as steve. i just hope, and maybe it’s a wild dream to have, but i hope i can be the one to give him that.” eddie winces a little as he looks up once more, meeting steve’s watery gaze. “i should have told you i was writing that story. i’m sorry.”
steve snatches the magazine back, hardly daring to believe eddie’s words unless he sees them printed in black and white.
and there they are.
“i thought you were- i thought i- oh my god.” steve tips forward, gripping the magazine in one hand and the front of eddie’s shirt in the other. “did you mean it?” eddie smiles softly, cupping steve’s cheeks in both palms.
“course i did, stevie. you deserve it. and i wanna be the one to give it to you, if you’ll have me.”
steve can’t prevent the giddy chuckle that escapes his throat. all the heartbreak is but a memory, fading into insignificance against the brilliant light of his happy ending, growing brighter by the second.
“promise you won’t write anything else about me without my knowledge?” he asks, arching one brow. eddie guides steve’s face closer to his own, until their lips are almost brushing.
“i promise. with one exception, yknow, once we’re at that point. i’m gonna keep my vows a secret.”
and that’s an exception steve is more than happy to make.
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Bit of a non-resonant question for once:
What program do you use to write with? Any particular fonts or techniques that help get you in the writing zone? Do you edit as you write or write and then edit after you have a skeleton/base finished?
Ah, love me some writing questions!
Writing program
For my very early fandom life, I liked to use Wordpad (rather than proper Word) because it was very simple but still allowed basic formatting and didn't have Word's annoying "suggestions" that I always ignore.
Then I bought Scrivener, which appealed to me because it let you organize your writing into "folders" almost, while allowing you to still easily switch between separate bits of writing and view the work as a whole. I loved it because I'm always playing with concept work or alternate POVs, and it let me organize all the related bits around the main work. I still use Scrivener to organize my D&D games that I DM!
These days, I tend to use Google Docs for easy syncing. I like being able to write and read my work everywhere. I mostly write at my desk, but will reread and edit occasionally on my phone (at home or elsewhere) or on my laptop when I'm lounging in bed. One thing I used to do, in summer of all things, was take a nice long soak in the bath and reread Resonant before starting work on a new chapter. It's too long these days to do that, alas!
I don't love Google Docs itself, because I really do miss the organization Scrivener gave me. (Scrivener would be amazing for the Halloween prompts, honestly!) And the single doc that holds all of Resonant is starting to choke a bit on its size. But the convenience keeps it as my writing tool of choice for now.
There was one other piece of Scrivener-esque paid writing software I looked at a while back that sync'd its content in the cloud, but I remember not being super blown away by it and I've forgotten the name.
Getting into the zone
This is usually a matter of rereading the current chapter or the previous chapter to get my head in the right place, both in terms of tone and flow. Sometimes, if I'm feeling very fancy, I'll light a scented candle. But I'm a pretty basic person. It's usually just me deciding "okay, enough screwing around, let's do some writing" and then I write. (In the past, when I was strict about reaching 1K/day and was struggling with a particular section, I would give myself the "treat" every 100 words of a short break.)
I had a period where I only felt "in the zone" when the sun was still out, which makes things hard when you work a 9-5 job and have to take care of dinner/the dog after. Fortunately, that phase is over and I'm back to writing whenever. That phase was odd because I am more typically a "can't really get in the proper zone until midnight" person. I would say that most of Resonant was written between the hours of 10PM and 4AM.
The hardest things for me to write are new characters and new POVs, as those usually involve me refreshing myself on the body of work for that particular character (rewatching them in the show, and rereading their bits in F&B). Not applicable to OCs, usually, unless they're Essos-related characters, because those involve a lot of interpolating of the few scraps GRRM has shared of the Free Cities.
Editing process
I'm pretty much the opposite of a skeleton writer. 😅 I'll constantly edit myself as I write. There's a certain minimum level of "acceptable" I have to maintain to move onto the next paragraph, with the sole exception being the heavy writing months with my word count minimum where I just wanted to be done for the night. That said, I do on occasion make use of [finish this scene] or [name this later] or [figure out how this works] injections.
And since I reread the current chapter when getting into the writing zone, that usually means doing light editing as I go if an easy fix to something I wasn't happy with occurs to me.
Sometimes, a particular stretch of scenes or chapters doesn't "feel" right, and I have to rewrite, remove, or add entire scenes. That's usually done at the start of a writing session and sometimes takes up the entire time.
The day before posting is the "final edits" day. It's where I fill in any brackets I left behind, and edit the most stubborn bits I wasn't happy with, until everything is close to 100% satisfaction. I definitely do the most editing of a chapter in this span, and often this adds 500ish words to a given chapter. I've had chapters where I was already pretty much completely happy (ch13 comes to mind) and I just had to do a basic grammar/flow check. Those are nice, they take no more than an hour. Others, I'm burning the midnight oil to fill in the blanks and figure out how the heck to fix a particular sentence or phrase of dialogue that's been vexing me.
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[graphic by @ofmdlovelyletters]
AUTHOR OF THE WEEK: @monksofthescrew
Our final feature of this week's AOTW is the lovely and always kind Hugo ♥️ Getting to know her these past few weeks has been such a joy and it's so not a surprise that they're such an earnest and fluffy writer, with oodles of love for their friends and the show. Please read on to find out about Hugo's secret sorrow (the word she thinks she uses a lot):
What's your writing process like? Do you start with the beginning or the end? Do you write in order or as the scenes come to you?
I generally start with the beginning and write forward, but then I like to outline retroactively and see if there are any chunks that would be better suited elsewhere in the story. I sometimes have to scribble down an idea for a later scene when it comes to me, but then I sometimes forget to return to it, or figure out that it doesn't fit after all. And sometimes it's not so much a scene as it is a *vibe*, and sometimes it's just, like, a mini-revelation about the emotional arc, or some other little tidbit. I'm definitely still trying to find the right process, though, because mine is absolutely unreliable and I haven't finished anything at all or even really managed to work meaningfully on anything in an age and a half.
Favourite Ed or Stede characteristic or mannerism that are dear to you (Ed liking marmalade, Stede and burying his feelings, etc)?
Yes, Ed's sweet tooth is important to me. Yes, Stede saying one single, heavily veiled thing once and being like, "I have now bared my entire soul to you, right?" is important to me. Ed's brilliance is non-negotiable. Their mutual softness is very important to me. Yeah, their shitty fucking dads are really important to me. Both their childlike qualities and their age. Shearwater pointed out that Stede has so much love to give that he's never been allowed to give before and Ed needs so much love and never having had anyone to give it to him, and I can't stop seeing that now. The way they instantly know one another on a level neither of them has ever experienced before.
What is the one word that you think you use a lot?
HEEDLESS for fucks' sake. Also STEEL as a verb. Is it the double Es? Why am I like this?
Do you have a beta reader? Have they made you a better writer?
YES. I have been swapping betas with @xoxoemynn for, oh my god, two years this August (happy almost-anniversary, darling) and not only has Marianne made my writing better (it was at her prompting that I ended up writing some of my very favorite paragraphs I have ever written) but beta-reading *her* writing has made me a better writer, and also a better thinker. Marianne is absurdly generous with the sandbox that is her brilliant mind and her open heart, and thinking and talking through ideas and theories with her has taught me so much about storytelling.
Why OFMD?
I think the characters, both as written and acted, have so much complexity and nuance, and there's so much room for interpretation, which makes this such a fun sandbox to play in. The canon can support practically any reading. Also, this fandom boasts a really mind-boggling amount of talent, and some of the absolutely loveliest people I've ever had the good fortune to meet.
Please head over to @ofmdlovelyletters and send your love for Hugo and all your favourite authors (and authors of the week 😈 watch that blog for some special letters coming your way)
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When you write your characters, do they have specific, locked-in physical appearances? Does that only come once you get the characters cast/does it match what the VAs look like irl? I was thinking about how, when I listen to TBS I picture the characters different than you probably do or how other listeners do.
For me, I usually only picture things like height/build and hair color/length, but even that is different from other interpretations I see in fanart. What’s it like to see fanart of characters who don’t have faces?
great question!!! no, absolutely not, pretty much never. I have a hard time coming up with character appearances even in books--I am just not a visual person! in writing prose, I of course do have to determine what they look like, but it's not usually the first thing that comes to mind.
when I wrote TBS, I had absolutely no thoughts about what the characters looked like beyond certain vibes (mark: handsome, agent green: beanpole, damien: exceptionally average, etc.) but that said, I'm not sure I necessarily picture every single character looking like their actor. and that's largely because we have so much incredible fanart for the show, that every time I see a new version of a character, I'm like "that's it!". so, to answer the last question in your ask, it RULES
but it's a little different depending on how the casting went. with the exception of Chloe and Sam, almost all the original roles in TBS (so, the first four seasons), were written without a specific actor in mind okay, I started to write a long paragraph about each of the characters and then realized it might be fun to go through the whole original cast and talk about how each actor ended up in that role--
(my god this got long I'M SO SORRY I feel like I've hijacked your really nice and straightforward question)
Sam - easy; she was written for me, she is me, and yet I never picture her looking like me
Chloe - I knew I wanted to get Anna to be a part of the show, so I wrote Chloe with her in mind. but I also don't really picture Chloe looking like her!
Dr. Bright - the hidden lore of TBS is that I thought about playing this role for about half a second, instead of playing Sam (thank GOD I wised up). I don't remember the thought process of casting Julia at all because I'm pretty sure I was just sitting in acting class one day as she was doing a scene and was like "oh, there she is"
Caleb - god, it's so weird to try and remember when these people were strangers to me - Briggon was so big-hearted in acting class, that I knew he'd bring so much to Caleb. but it was watching him do a gruffer scene in class that made me ask him - I wanted Caleb's big heart to make itself known more slowly. Briggon has an essence that I picture with Caleb, but I don't picture Briggon as Caleb, if that makes sense.
Adam - in lots of ways, Briggon cast Adam! he and Alex had been buds for ages and when I wrote the episode in which Adam first appears, I needed someone to do a few quick lines and Briggon suggested Alex. and that was supposed to be that - I had no plans to ever have Adam appear in the show again. but then, of course, we recorded with Alex and I simply had to make him a presence in the show. ditto here in terms of essence vs. appearance.
Damien - I remember the moment I (mentally) cast Charlie so vividly. I'd already shared the season 2 script where Damien first appears with Julia and she was very eager to know who I was going to cast - I think we were talking about it before class, because we both knew that we needed someone very specific and very good. and I'm like "idk! I haven't thought about it in depth yet!". and then Charlie was doing some scene or other in class and Julia and I literally leaned forward in our chairs so that we could look down the row at each other because we had the exact same thought at the exact same time. and we shared this look and that was that. I've never pictured Damien as looking like Charlie, because Charlie is way too good looking.
Mark - these next two were really hard to cast. mostly because I had such a specific idea in my head of a vocal tone/vibe, and I didn't know any actors who fit that perfectly. and it took several weeks of sunday classes with Andrew before I asked if he wanted to get coffee and talk about it. and it took that long because Andrew has this very annoying thing about him where he's literally so versatile and so grounded and real and fucking good in every role he does, that every time I'd watch him perform, all I could see is what he was doing in the moment and nothing else. I would get totally lost in what he was doing and, of course, it is that exact quality that makes him such a compelling Mark. I picture Andrew as Mark about...32% of the time.
Agent Green - an insurmountable task. no one in my acting class was right for it. no friends of friends were right for it and I asked around a lot, got sent a lot of voice memos. and then I was doing a short film with Anna and Ian was there - I'd met him once before when he was in a Rocky Horror production with Anna - and I really dug his energy. and he wasn't right at all for what I was imagining Agent Green to be, but I was like "you know what, I want to work with this actor, and it's one small-ish role in two episodes" and then we got Ian in with Julia and all of a sudden I was like "WELL I GUESS I HAVE TO WRITE A WHOLE AGENT GREEN STORYLINE NOW" (this has happened to me several times. goddamn actors). I think the Green in my head is like...the combination of Ian and his common fan art representation.
Wadsworth - I met Alex doing the same short film - she was in it and also doing fight choreographer and was just incredibly competent and cool. I knew I wanted Wadsworth to be someone who could really boss people around but, like.....in a hot way. it helped that Alex and Ian knew each other pretty well, because obviously that dynamic is central to both those characters. and I think, similarly, Wadsworth is half Alex, half fan art in my head
Frank - I hadn't really planned on bringing Frank into the show itself - kind of an Adam situation - but I saw Phillip do a very interesting intense scene in class and just....couldn't stop thinking about it. despite writing the role into the show more or less for Phillip, I don't really picture Frank as looking that much like him.
Rose - this one was pretty straightforward - I wrote Rose, thought through actresses I knew who had a particular energy and could also sing and Alana popped into my head right away! (the only other actress that came close was Helen, who plays Helen in TAMA which, as you can guess, was written for her. she's got an incredible singing voice like Alana does, but Alana was the better fit, and I got to have Helen villain it up, which was so fun, and have a fucked up thing with Wadsworth (Alex and Helen are irl besties)). but I don't picture Rose in any particular way, other than the cover art for SFP!
Charlie - I loved Ars Paradoxica, I loved Reyn in Ars Paradoxica, and it just felt right. I do think I picture Charlie as Reyn actually.
honorable mentions from the spin-offs:
Mags - I knew pretty much immediately that I wanted to get Bryce in the mix of TAMA and wrote Mags for her in the same way I wrote Chloe for Anna. Bryce and I met doing a production of Spring Awakening years and years previously (she was Martha, I was Wendla) and she's such a talent! I don't really picture Mags like Bryce though - I think I picture Mags as being much nerdier.
Beck - Jason "Marley" Beck has a very specific description in the books. he's a tall, hulking white guy with a buzz cut and a kind of frankenstein's monster energy to him. he's pale as shit. when I wrote him into TCT, I looked for actors like that (and found some truly great ones!) but I'd left the role open and when I heard Chris's audition I was like "welp. that's Beck. I guess Beck is going to be Black in podcast canon!" and that's what we did. podcast canon and book canon are technically two slightly different versions running on parallel tracks, and I wanted to go with the actor that I felt best fit the role, regardless of the fact that the book had already been published. so the image of Beck in my head is different for the book and the podcast.
Oliver - ah, Oliver. the surprising fan favorite. or, really, not that surprising, because I had the exact same reaction to Kristian when I first met him. he auditioned for a role in Passenger List and, while I was of course already a fan of his from Orphan Black, I was still shocked at just how much fun the audition was. and to be clear: auditions suck so so so so so bad. and for PL, they were full 6 hour days of watching actor after actor after actor and, well, it's my least favorite part of the process always. but for the, like, 5 minutes Kristian was in the room, I was having a genuinely good time. so of course we cast him and he was as lovely to direct as he'd been in his audition. when Caitlin came up with Oliver, I think we both had something very different in mind. but there was a mad scientist energy to him that made me think of Kristian so I pitched him to her and she liked the idea and the rest is history. and then, of course, he and Andrew's chemistry was a wild lovely surprise, so we brought him back. gun to my head, I could not tell you what I think Oliver looks like.
#lauren answers things#the bright sessions#actors#casting#lauren takes too long to say things#good GOD what kind of weird rambling monologue did I just write
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Lemme just talk for a second about the scene where Xie Lian gets murdered over and over again in his temple on his altar.
Specifically, the paragraph of "it hurts it hurts it hurts" over and over. Usually, I would say that just repeating the same thing over and over for emphasis is not going to make your point. Repetition dulls after about three times. Even reading that scene, my eyes skipped over that paragraph because I could see it was the same thing over and over again.
But you know what's crazy, it did a job and it did it differently and imo better than a lot of scenes like that I've read. Because how do you write about something endlessly being tortured so extremely? One technique is to just talk for a while about how painful it is avoiding exact repetition, but the truth is that this gets repetitive too. A reader can only take so much pain and suffering; after that, it doesn't feel like pain anymore. It feels like bad writing.
Another method, which is I think what you would more commonly see in a "well-written" torture scene and the method I myself would usually employ to write such a thing, is disassociation. We've all heard of or experienced a pain that hurts so bad you almost can't experience it anymore; you can't process; your brain goes to another place because the nerves overload it with too much info. So, the way these scenes are often written is that the person is suddenly outside of their body, watching it happen, or they are suddenly in a memory of a different time, or even the narrator just jumps elsewhere so that when the narrator returns to the immediacy of the pain the viewpoint character is experiencing, everything is sharp again.
MXTX...did not do that. And I think what comes across is that Xie Lian cannot do that. He's trying to get beyond "it hurts it hurts it hurts," to go to some other place in his brain, and he can't escape. The panic of him not being able to escape that temple, that altar, or even that moment in his own mind creates this kind of claustrophobia in which you really do have to experience every. single. sword.
And of course, this is Xie Lian's whole problem ("problem"). He was that he was not able to take a step back. He was not able to remain uninvolved. He had to try to solve every single issue. He had to take every. single. sword.
And he is only able to disassociate when he is completely broken, when he tries to kill himself and can't; his disassociation is so ultimate and almost complete that he becomes someone else entirely. He becomes White No-Face.
And what's wild about Xie Lian is that after he comes back to himself, he knows how to compartmentalize. He knows that it's possible to stop feeling pain. He knows that it's possible to put away hurt and replace it with something else. But Xie Lian chooses not to do that. For Xie Lian, every single sword hurts less than feeling nothing at all.
#suicide#self harm#kind of#torture#violence#disassociation#this scene should have it's own special tw tag#tgcf#xie lian#mxtx
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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. spread the self-love ❤
Tagging @gingiekittycat who sent this to me as well! In no particular order:
Esurient Designs. Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Rated E, 22k. Started as a single line in a different fic then became a few paragraphs and then was encouraged into the most decadent, dirty degustation I could come up with. If you squint, it’s a deep dive character thing about Crowley. If you don’t squint, it’s just a laundry list of kinky needy touch-starved fantasies.
Anchorage. Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Rated T, 4.6k. This might still be my favorite out of everything I’ve written in this fandom and it’s *gasp* not porn. It is Crowley being very vulnerable though, and all the pleasure that comes when Aziraphale welcomes that vulnerability. Kissing and feelings, that’s it, folks.
Coming Home – A Choose Your Own Adventure Fic. Aziraphale/Crowley (mostly) (Good Omens), Rated E, 117k. I only wrote a smidgeon of this but I’m still insanely proud of it because I did most of the wrangling and aspirational thinking. The idea that 30+ authors could come together to write something as long, hot, varied, and cohesive as this just blows my mind and I really lost myself in the organisational aspects of it for the two-ish months it took! There are also some smoking how chapters buried in there that I revisit often!
Kinetic Sense. Ten/Rose (Doctor Who), Rated E, 10k. I like to think I’ve developed as a written, then I revisit this extremely drawn out, overly wordy oral-sex romp that I wrote almost twenty years ago. I stand by it. Extremely explicit sex submerged in fluffy relationship stuff and also me obviously having a very specific type.
Parallelism. Kurt/Blaine (Glee), Rated E, 10k. I haven’t read this one in almost a decade, I reckon, but it was exceptionally challenging to write and I remember my beta basically convinced me to trash the entire first draft and try again. And I remember thinking it ended up being the best thing I’d ever written at the time. It’s just first-time fingering fic, which I’ve done recently in Good Omens, I now realize. But it was, for whatever reason, a challenge and a reward.
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