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casspurrjoybell-18 · 2 years ago

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Mutual Desire - Chapter 19a

*Warning - Adult Content*

"Um... " Damien Clark awkwardly let out, trying to get Alexander Nabokov's attention.

"Yes?" Nabokov answered without looking up from his screen.

Damien remained silent, the words he wanted to let out remained blocked.

Only the noises that Nabokov's long fingers produced on the keyboard disturbed the silence.

On Damien's silence, Nabokov toss his head towards him, staring impassively.

Now that Nabokov's sharp eyes were on him, Damien didn't have the courage to stay silent.

"About Nick's software... about Nicolas’ software..." Damien began speaking nervously.

"Yes, what about it?" The Russian man asked.

Damien instantly regretted wanted Nabokov's eyes on him earlier, since the man's attention was currently what was restraining him from focusing on the words he was about to say.

Nabokov's gaze disconcerted him and never had someone else's gaze possessed such an effect on Damien before.

"Is that... is that your final decision?"

Immediately after voicing these words, Damien held his breath, apprehensive to the answer to his question.

Nabokov narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing Damien, looking pensive.

"Well, when I make a decision, it's rare that I go back on it, so yes, it has already happened."

Damien swallowed and lowered his head.

Nabokov's answer didn't surprise him. In fact, he hadn't expected no less.

"Why are you asking?" Nabokov enquired, after a few seconds of silence between the two men.

Damien raised his head and stared at the Russian man.

"Nick made some changes on the antivirus today. I thought maybe it was worth taking a look at that. Maybe seeing these changes would alternate your decision."

Nabokov was silent for a few seconds, as if analyzing every word Damien said.

"So, you'd like me to give Nicolas a second try?"

"Yes, he deserves it. He worked exceedingly hard on it," Damien answered, his tone just as his gaze intensified slightly.

"And his colleagues, do they also deserve a second chance?"

Yes, except Anthony, of course, Damien thought.

"Yes. We all deserve a second chance to prove ourselves. There is no limit to the number of times one can fall, nor the number of times one can succeed."

Nabokov looked at Damien with a look that gave the impression that he was dazzled by his words.

A barely visible smile appeared on the Russian outstanding face.

"I couldn't be more in agreement with you. That being said, I have a lot to do. I don't think I have time to review all the projects."

Damien looked down, total disappointment seizing him.

Though he hadn't technically received Nabokov's refusal of his offer to give Nick a second chance, Damien could nonetheless read between the lines and link the dots.

Nabokov was a wealthy businessman who had as much time as a single parent working two jobs.

Damien didn't really see the man wasting his precious time reviewing projects that he had at first judged didn't met the criteria of what he was looking for.

And the fact that Nabokov's refusal was a means of revenge only proved to Damien that he was right in believing that Nabokov wouldn't overrule his decision.

Damien Clark realized his arrogant talk in the elevator hadn't had the desired effect.

And He couldn't blame the guy for it.

He was far from being an intimidating man.

As his friend, Dimitri once said...'You have feminine features, pretty boy and the whole bun thing you have going on only accentuates that.'

But all joke aside, Damien sincerely hoped that the man wouldn't let a slight incident dictate his decision which would explain his arrogance.

But it seems that he was digging himself into in illusion so as not to see the harsh reality.

"But I will take your proposition into consideration, Damien," Alexander Nabokov added.

Damien looked longingly at Nabokov, trying to figure out whether he was lying or not.

"Thank you."

The two men stared at each other as silence entered the conversation.

No longer able to take Nabokov's piercing glance at him, Damien looked down.

He wanted to turn and look at the window but his body refused to move.

"Come over here, to me."

Damien lifted his head sharply to meet Nabokov's indecipherable gaze. He wasn't sure he had heard correctly.

"Why?" Damien asked.

Nabokov's grey eyes cool down.

"Come here, Damien," he repeated sternly, his voice still low.

"I'm not a dog, Alexander," Damien retorted without hesitation.

Damien's voice was oddly calm but the coldness that was sure to be found wasn't there.

Nabokov's expression softens faintly.

"Please, Damien," the man whispered softly.

Damien was surprised by how tenderly Nabokov had spoken.

"You come over here," Damien ordered him gently in return.

Nabokov's eyes smiled but he didn't move.

"Please, Alexander," Damien added gently, whispering.

Damien didn't need to mention it twice.

He watched Nabokov lay his cell-phone down as the man's imposing body started to move towards him, without withdrawing his eyes off him.

The scene was going both in slow motion and in acceleration and Damien stopped breathing.

Nabokov left no distance between him and Damien, their noses interfering with each other and their faces parting barely a few millimetres away.

Nabokov positioned his arm on the top of the seat and placed his unoccupied hand gently on Damien's right cheek.

Damien breathed in again, inhaling Nabokov's exquisite smell, gazing at him without blinking.

They looked longingly at each other without pronouncing a word, while Nabokov's thumb gently caressed Damien's flushed cheek.

The dark-haired man didn't seem to realize how much the position he and Nabokov were in couldn't be anymore intimate.

So intimate that their lips threatened to collide if one of them engaged in the slightest movement.

Damien's heart was beating fast and questions exploded in his head but strangely he betrayed no anxiety.

This closeness to Nabokov, with his big hand resting on his cheek and his burning eyes on him, produced inexplicable and indescribable emotions experienced by Damien.

He felt his heart manifest aggressively but it wasn't due to nervousness or fear. No, it was something else.

"Nicolas is lucky to have a friend like you who argue in his favor and who seems to be ready to do... everything to see the success of his software."

Nabokov finally spoke, piercing the uncomfortable silence and causing Damien to finally blink for the first time since the moment Nabokov had eliminated any possible distance between them.

"I don't have much choice since it's technically my fault," Damien retorted slightly harden his tone.

Nabokov gratified Damien with a slight smile.

"You keep persisting in thinking that I just want to take some sort of revenge on you?"

Damien smiled back.

"Because that's the case, isn't it?"

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because you love provoking me," Damien replied, no hesitation showed.

Nabokov raised an eyebrow, his thin smile remaining.

Damien regretted his words.

It was one thing to presume with a pretentious confidence that someone wanted revenge on you but another to presume the reason for that was deliberate provocation especially when the person was a complete stranger.

"You think I like provoking you?"

"Yes. But I can't blame you because I like provoking you too," Damien confessed.

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1ddotdhq · 4 years ago

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🖕Mon Sept 28 ‘20 👓

First things first: see ya Psycho! Music Week published an article confirming Syco’s “low-key” demise. Music Week tells us two interesting things - the first is that “artists from [Cowell’s] TV show will now be free to sign to any label, with Sony no longer enjoying first refusal”. The second interesting tidbit is that “all Syco Music employees and artists have now either been redeployed within Sony Music, or have left the company”. Happy days!

More like busy days - for Harry, at least! He was seen yesterday evening in LA, taking pictures with a fan. He was wearing a mask (sexy) and a mini hair clip (less sexy, but adorable nonetheless). We can take this as an indication that pre-production for Don’t Worry Darling is likely underway, and as he’s the lead male role (!!!!!!), he has RESPONSIBILITIES and so he had to be there before the day of the actual shoot. Your intern spent a few hours reading up on film set guidelines, so I’m going to tell you that at some point between the UK, Italy, the UK again, and LA, Harry got himself screened and tested negative for COVID, as is mandatory to do before entering a film set. These sets are closed, and any visitors must also undergo screenings, as far as I could tell. Anyways, hopefully that keeps him safe and busy for the next few months!

His Grammy campaign is ALSO underway, as his team told Music Week that they’ve “got a few more things up [their sleeve] for the rest of the year, but [we’ll] have to wait and see”. Is it the Golden video? I bet it’s the Golden video. Some more information about Harry’s accessories also became available to the public today: his custom vampire wife blue HS bag was VERY custom-made, apparently, as he specifically requested that color blue for his initials (the letters are normally done in a ~golden~ thread, which makes it funner, imo). In case you’re curious - it IS the same color as his Light’s Up costume, the Vespa, the room that Falling was shot in, and on and on and on. He does seem to rather have a fascination with that color, doesn’t he? Almost like...he gets so lost inside it? Can you believe it??

Hahaha okay moving on: Zayn ALSO keeps on keepin’ on to make Z3 a more tangible reality: he registered two new songs today: “Different” and “Look At Me Now”. And even #better (last time, I promise haha) - “Better” was featured on Amazon Music’s “song of the day”! I have to hear the songs before I say anything about it, but I do sort of hope that things will be “Different” this time around - “Better” - and that he’s telling us “Look At Me Now”. To use twitter terminology, I’m manifesting good things for him.

Liam had a feature in Esquire Mexico, where they talked about his early aspirations as an Olympic runner changing into his decision to give up running to focus on music. I wish they had talked about this a bit more, because I can’t expect that was an easy decision, but also, he would have been around 14 when he made it. That’s a BIG responsibility for a kid, and I want to hear how he felt about it then, and how he feels about it now, some thirteen years on. About his music career, he says: “The effort is what really counts. Having tried it was fundamental, but also understanding that if it didn’t work, it just wasn’t for me”. He does, however, attribute his success to his obsessive attitude (hmmm). At any rate, you’re a JOY to have around, Liam, so I’m glad it DID work out!

The feature also came with PICTURES, of course, in which he looks better than anyone reasonably has a right to - I have to keep reminding myself that if I want to stay impartial, I can’t be attracted to any of them, but DAMN did Liam test my resolve in these! They had him in glasses and a knitted hoodie/jumper/sweater thing holding a guitar on the cover photo. There are other pictures in which he’s wearing half undone button up shirts and too cool for school shades and looking moodily off into the distance (while holding his guitar) and a few where he’s looking pensively down in a blue paisley shirt and glasses (whew!). I think it’s the glasses that killed me, tbh, but go check them out, because I’m certainly not doing them justice!

In some sunny news, Free My Meal popped up again to thank Louis for raising awareness for their cause, calling him a legend (we been knew, but it’s nice to see!) and using hashtags like “#noshame” and “#justask”, and I have to say - sometimes, you would be surprised at how kind people can be if you ask. ALSO, I am bringing this charity up literally ANY TIME I have the opportunity to, because I think it is doing phenomenal work, and I wish there were more programs like this one.

I also have a little bit of a Clown Car update for you: yesterday, Nick Gordon posted a “#theysaidyes” picture, featuring both Briana and Freddie, and captioning with a quote from...wait for it...When Harry Met Sally!!! He then went on a comment reading spree, liking such comments as “Although you are not the real father, you will be the best father, believe me” and “*** **”. I...am actually speechless, which never happens to me. AND THEN! Briana followed and account called “thepropertybrokers” which is an “Investment Property Specialist” account in Beverly Hills. Are you...going somewhere, girl? Don’t be shy, *** **.

And, hmmm, let me think - what day is it? Oh, yeah, the 28th, I almost forgot! You know who DIDN'T? Paul Higgins, former One Direction bodyguard and bona fide Tour Dad, who went around Instagram liking “Happy Anniversary, Harry and Louis!” posts, including my favorite, which was captioned: “Happy 7th anniversary love birds! 28th September 2013 - it’s so great to see how two beautiful friends finally did it!...”. Yeah, guys, nothing to see here, they’re just celebrating 7 years of a beautiful and committed BROMANCE, doncha know?

#harry styles #zayn malik #liam payne #louis tomlinson #the clown car #briana #nick gordon #also you can now buy Harry's daffodil necklace on Eliou's website #they're calling it the Harry Necklace but tbh i like my name better #idk if anyone else cares about the filming guidelines in LA but i spent a ton of time reading about it so here you lol #*here you go lol #ngl I’m a little disappointed about no new Louis merch but it’s probably the best thing for my bank account #song of the day!#Waking in the Dark by Only the Poets #yup thats it from me today i think thats more than enough #hahaha

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embarrassingsmartphonegame · 5 years ago

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Moving In - Nik Ryder x f!MC

Summary: “You know, most people exchange phone numbers before they move in with together.” “Most people also haven’t been brought together by fighting a murderous bag of bones. Also you already have it...” “Wait what?!” Leah moves in with Nik officially after Chapter 5 of Anything. It goes exactly as expected.

Warnings: two people who bicker almost as much as they love each other, some swear words, kissing, mention of trauma and alcohol, overall pretty light-hearted

“How-” Push. “Much-” Push. “Clothing-” Push. “Do you own?!”

Nik liked to think of himself as physically strong (and he would say he had the abs to prove it). But just how can one box of clothes be so heavy? He was huffing and puffing the entire walk from the moving truck and into the Graveyard Shift, especially when they had to go up a flight of stairs to get to his--no, their apartment.

“I own a normal amount of clothes. Maybe you just need to work out more,” Leah teased as she put down her own box effortlessly on the floor of the living room, stopping to stretch her arms over her head. She had to admit her Fae power of super strength came in handy sometimes and she was thankful that she was now able to summon it even when it wasn’t an emergency.

He snorted. “Chasing monsters keeps me plenty fit, thank you very much. But you sure do own a lot of clothes for someone who loses them like you do.”

Her cheeks burned at the memory of their reunion. “I had to prove it was me!”

“That was really your first instinct?!”

“You complaining about that?”

Nik chuckled and pulled her by the waist, nuzzling her neck. “You know I would never, darlin’.”

Leah rolled her eyes and pecked him on the lips. “I come back and agree to be with you and since then it’s been ‘rook’ or ‘babe’ or ‘sugar’ and now ‘darlin’’. Is that why you’re called Nik...because you’re a...nickname type of guy?”

“Shit, rook; was just tryin’ to be romantic here,” Nik groaned as she laughed a little too hard at her own joke. Any exasperation instantly dissipated once he heard her laugh; he missed it the past three months. She kissed him again, enjoying every moment.

“I know. I just love teasing you.”

“Lil’ shit.”

“Ah, another one, Mr. Nic--hey!” Leah shouted out as Nik suddenly wrapped her up in a bear hug, swinging her around. Her shouts soon turned into laughter, and soon the small apartment was filled with the sound of both of them laughing.

Nik finally put her down on the counter with his hands still on her hips. She rested her forehead against his, still in slight disbelief that she was moving in with him. It was only one week before that she crash landed back into his life, and after they talked things out and survived yet another attempt on their lives (he owed her his life...again), she decided to move to New Orleans for good.

The thought of it as their apartment still felt weird to them both; but it was his idea for her to move in with him. Nik remembered giving some half-assed excuse about them being both business and personal partners so it only made sense financially...he ignored that dark voice in his head irrationally sneering at him that if he took his eyes off her for even one second she would disappear again. Leah agreed with his staunch assessment, if only to curb the fear that this was all another weird (but wonderful) dream and she was actually alone in Wyoming. She frowned at the thought of her old life. Nik noticed the pensive look on her face.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

The corner of her right lip quirked upwards without amusement as she shrugged. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to move in? After I’ve been probably the biggest pain in the ass since we met a few months ago?”

“First of all, it was my idea for you to move in; no offense but we’re technically unemployed until a client hires us and I’m in a better position from whoever hired me to protect you,” Nik answered, actually hoping that his honesty wasn’t too offensive. “And second, you’re a pain in the ass...but you’re my pain in the ass and you had your reasons for everything. I love you just the same, okay? So no saying you can’t live here unless you really don’t wanna.”

“I do have student loans to pay off...” Leah grinned. “Gotta love your definition of romance, babe. This pain in the ass loves you too!”

Satisfied and sneaking in one last kiss, the woman jumped off the counter. She tied her hair and rolled her sleeves up. “Now let’s get unpacking!”

After a few hours of them unpacking Leah’s things, bickering, and randomly making out (“We’re never gonna get anything done like this, rook!”), the two Nighthunters stood in their now shared bedroom, about to finish up. Nik took out the last piece of clothing: a very familiar velvet, royal purple dress with a gold body chain to go with it. He held it up to her, brow quirked mischievously.

“Any chance I could see you in this again?”

Leah collapsed the last box and put it in the pile with all the others. Her eyes moved to the dress that cost more than half her wardrobe. “Still can’t believe you picked that one out. If we sneak into Persephone again, maybe...”

“How about on a date? A real one.”

“You asking me out, Ryder?”

“What’s it look like, Mendoza?”

She couldn’t help the silly grin on her face, as if she was suddenly a teenage girl talking to her crush for the first time. “I accept. Would this be technically our first date? Because I don’t know whether to count us running from the Bloodwraith...”

“Yes, a real date, rook. But no promises that monsters won’t try to attack us or anything, sorry,” Nik responded, hanging the dress up in their shared closet space.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” She smiled brightly and took a seat on the bed. “We’re really doing this backwards, huh? You know, most people exchange phone numbers before they move in together.”

“Most people also haven’t been brought together by fighting a murderous bag of bones.” Nik turned to her and sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “Also you already have it...”

“Wait what?!”

Nik took a deep breath before speaking again. “First, I wanna say I’m so sorry for this; I shouldn’t have contacted you when it was clear you didn’t wanna talk to me. Katherine offered me your number one night after I asked about you and I wanted to be selfish and take it.”

“So...you called me while I was gone?” Leah asked, her eyebrows coming together in confusion. “But I don’t remember you calling...I mean I had dreams you did a few times, but those weren’t real.”

“Well, one of them wasn’t a dream,” Nik went on. “It was nighttime and you picked up the phone slurrin’ drunk. I remember asking if you were safe, and you said you were home.”

Leah’s cheeks burned and she put her head in her hands. “Oh my God...I really don’t remember anything from that conversation. This is so embarrassing! You must’ve thought I was such an idiot!”

“No, you have nothing to be ashamed of, rook.” Nik cautiously sidled up beside her, resting a hand on the small of her back. “I’m so sorry I didn’t respect your wishes. I’m the wrong one here.”

Leah didn’t pull away, but she also couldn’t look at him. She tried to remember anything from the past three months that didn’t involve alcohol; she could count them all on one hand. “I...I really had a problem. I have a problem. I know that moving and being in a relationship won’t fix everything, but it’s hitting me that I need real help.”

“And I’m with you every step of the way.” He pulled her into a hug, letting her rest her face into his shoulder. “I meant it when I said that I’m with you...”

“To the bitter end,” Leah finished, her voice breaking at the last word. Nik tightened his hold on her, an aching in his chest as he remembered that he once kept that promise; but he never anticipated it to be her bitter end. He closed his eyes and relished in the warmth of her body against his, blocking out the memory of her cold, pale skin and still heart. Eventually he loosened his hold and tilted her chin up to look into her eyes.

“All the ragged parts of me...stitched back together when I’m with you,” he murmured only for her to hear. “I only want the same for you.”

Leah pulled him in for a warm, tender kiss. When they pulled away, a serene smile graced her features; Nik could swear there was something magical about her smile.

“I love you, and I can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings us,” she said, her voice strong and hopeful. Leah could feel her sunny disposition returning day by day, and it showed.

“I love you too, rook.” Nik pulled her to lie down beside him, their fingers intertwined. “What do you wanna do tonight? No jobs. We can go out or stay in, and I promise no snake tequila for either of us.”

Leah snorted and sprang up. “I say we stay in tonight in our apartment. Takeout?”

“You read my mind.”

“And there’s a reality show I’ve been meaning to catch up on...” Leah was already making her way to the living room while Nik followed. She babbled on about how it was a show where an American and a foreigner have to get married within 90 days for a special visa and that itself is, of course, where the drama begins and this season was especially dramatic and blah, blah, blah. Nik snorted at how invested she was in the show while they looked at food places.

The two Nighthunters spent the entire night snuggled up on their couch, talking and eating and canoodling. Leah sighed in satisfaction as sleep eventually took over them, her head resting on Nik’s chest. She finally felt like her life was going somewhere, and all that mattered was that they were in it together.

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A/N: I hope you like yet another fic of me refusing to let these two go onto the next installment just yet! Okay in reality I’ve been writing the first chapter of that and am almost done but med school got weird and my mental health took a dive and COVID-19 happened and blah, blah, blah. Bonus points if you know exactly what reality show Leah is talking about! Any and all comments are greatly appreciated, and I hope you’re all staying safe and healthy 💗

Permanent tag list: @furiouscloddonutpeanut @inlovewithrebels @mistressofspiesxenia

Nightbound tag list: @saivilo

Anything tag list: @samara-rani @god-save-the-keen @xxdangerouscapri15xx

#nightbound #nik ryder #nik x mc #choices fanfiction #choices #playchoices #choices: stories you play #nik ryder x mc #phoebe writes choices

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malecftw · 5 years ago

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When the Angel meets the Warlock (part 2)

Part 1 Part 3

And so time went on. The Angel being too intrigued to go back to Heaven, the Warlock too infatuated to go back to his coven.

Instead, they met somewhere in the middle. The Greendale forest to be more precise.

It didn’t take much for the Angel to let a treehouse sprout from the branches of one of the oldest trees rooted there, she’d never let the warlock know but being surrounded by the trees and nature had other advantages than being able to stay hidden from both of their worlds.

While the warlock meant good, his energy wasn’t. At least not for a Heavenly Creature like her. She thanked the Lord every day for the trees, they made it bearable to spend as much time together as they possibly could seeing as the Earthly energy somewhat canceled out his bad energy.

“I know I may not be human, but being friends with a half-witch has its perks.” He exclaimed, grinning as he took her hand and led her into the starry sky. After about an hour of tripping over roots sticking out of the damp soil, leafs whistling in the soft summer wind and a whole lot of giggles they arrived at the edge of the forest. Nicholas let go of the hand he was previously holding as he guided her through the forest.

She looked at him, piercing blue like hard aquamarine glistening in the dark of night, her eyes almost seemed to emit a radioactive glow. Enchanting nonetheless. Her eyebrows were raised and she looked at him inquisitively. The soft glow her skin carried, was lowered to a minimum. Then again, a figure resembling a human glowstick just appearing out of nowhere on a regular Friday night would seem rather odd.

“Stay here.” He whispered, kissing her forehead with a gentleness she hadn’t experienced before. Heaven was good. Obviously. But it also had no room for human emotion. As Angels, their one and true duty was to fulfill the work of the Holy Lord. Nothing more, nothing less. A sacred task only few were gifted.

Nicholas turned his back and started stepping away from her. A sudden panic in her chest rose, she hadn’t been left alone since she arrived on Earth. Nicholas heard the sudden rustling of the leaves beneath her feet and turned around. The panicked look on her face seemed so out of character. She was an almighty being. What could possibly have her panicked?

“You’ll come back? Right?” The uncertainty in her voice was apparent and it made his heart nearly jump out of his chest. This girl, she wanted him. She wanted him to stay by her side and he couldn’t help but be surprised. In all his life, the only person who’d truly needed him was himself. He was used to not being wanted. At least not on a deeper level than a one night stand or an orgie with the Weird Sisters. But this girl, she wanted him. All of him. They were taking baby steps, neither of them having any sort of experience with this kind of situation. You know the whole forbidden love between Angels and well basically anyone let alone a Warlock of the Dark Lord.

He looked into that piercing blue once again. “Of course. Where else would I go?” He said softly, almost too soft for her to hear. But she did. She straightened her back and gave him a small nod. Signaling to him that she was going to wait there for him. He made work of his plan and stepped away again, looking back every couple of steps, ensuring that she was okay. Just to be safe.

His hand grasped the cold door handle, neon lights illuminating his skin. The diner was oddly empty apart from a couple of teenagers here and there but that didn’t faze him. The only person he wanted to focus his attention on tonight was waiting for him a few feet away outside of that door. His idea was cute. At least he thought so. A poor attempt at slowly starting to try and make her realize what she was missing in Heaven. He knew how silly it was of him to have hope. Hope that for some unknown reason, she’d stay. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn’t help himself. Since the moment he laid his eyes upon her, he was a goner. He’d give up everything, but he also wasn’t a fool. He knew there was no place for him in her world. He’d never ask her to stay, he’d never ask her to give up everything she’d ever known but he couldn’t help but try and plant a little seed of doubt in her mind.

“Hey kid, you alright? You’ve been staring at that menu for an awfully long time.” Nick was pulled from his thoughts and thrown back into the real world in a matter of seconds when the owner of the diner interrupted the never-ending wheel of possibilities in his brain. The man seemed worn down, his long shift probably taking a toll but he didn’t seem to lose the kind sparkle in his chocolate brown eyes. He looked at Nicholas, almost as though he was prepared for a mental breakdown to happen, the teenage boy in front of him looking rather lost. Nick shook his head, clearing his thoughts and remembering what he was doing there. “Uh yeah sorry, could I have a regular cheeseburger and fries to go times two. Oh and a Vanilla and Chocolate milkshake please.” The elderly man nodded and got to work, leaving Nick behind at the bar.

Nicholas spun in his chair, trying to look outside the window. He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was there. She’d never just leave. One of the few things in his life he could count on. His gaze shifted when a couple of teenagers started laughing in a booth a couple of steps away from him. They seemed careless, young and free. All three of those things, he would never be. One of them caught his gaze and stuck his hand in the air. “Sorry dude, we thought we were the only ones in here!” He was wearing a blue and yellow jacket, his red hair sticking out in various places on his scalp. “No problem dude, I’ll only be a second.” He said loudly so the guy could hear. They exchanged a nod and the boy went back to the conversation with his friends.

Nick looked back at the door of the kitchen which was swung open right at that moment. The man appeared with two brown paper bags and set them on the counter in front of the warlock. “That’ll be 15 in total.” The man looked as he got out his wallet, his lips turning upwards as Nick realized the mistake. “Did you add the milkshakes?” The older man sighed smiling. “I know a troubled mind when I see one. I also know milkshakes make everything better. These are on the house kid.” “Are you sure?” The man nodded. Nick laid out 20 on the counter, giving the man a 5 dollar tip. “Thank you, sir.” He said while bowing his head slightly in gratitude. “Don’t worry about it kid.” He yelled as Nick was walking towards the exit. “Oh, and call me Pop.” Nick turned around and saluted him. “You got it, Pop.” He smiled as he opened the door and stepped out into the night again.

He smiled as he saw her hesitant figure, she was hesitating to come out of the safety of the forest she’d called home for the past couple of weeks. So being the good (almost) boyfriend that he is, Nick halted his steps leaving her with no choice but to face her anxiety and come out into the unknown world for the first time.

She smiled knowing what he was doing. And she loved him for it. Ever since they had met, he showed her small gestures of support. Not only offering her comfort but also pushing her limits in the most affectionate ways. Always ensuring her that she was safe and he was never gonna let anything or anyone hurt her. Before she could fully realize it, her feet were moving slowly towards the boy she’d grown so fond of. And he smiled. Boy, did he smile alot. She felt like a child, taking her first steps into the world and in a way she was. And was she lucky to have someone like him guiding her and supporting her.

As he took her hand, he immediately pulled her closer. Every chance he got to be close to her, he’d be a fool not to grasp. She looked down at the paper bags in his hand. “What are those?” She asked, voice almost giving out from not speaking for a while. He squeezed her sides teasingly and she squealed. “You’ll see little miss impatient. Come on, I know just the spot.”

They walked back into the forest for a couple of minutes, the trickling of water becoming more and more apparent as they neared a small stream. At least she thought it was a small stream. Now, she was actually looking out over a river. The sound of the water cascading over the rocks wasn’t disturbingly loud. It was actually surprisingly gentle.

Nicholas went ahead and took a seat on one of the bigger rocks, patting the spot beside him. She quickly obliged, sighing in enjoyment as her bare feet came into contact with the sweet water, washing away the dirt on the soles of her feet, accumulated by walking through the forest. She returned her attention to the dark-haired boy as he started taking out the contents of the brown paper bags.

“This, Milady will change your life.” He said as he gently put the thin cardboard box with the burger and fries in her hands. She eyed the food suspiciously. “This is supposed to be,... Good?” Nick laughed at her distrust. “Not just good darling, I’d even call it... Heavenly.” She rolled her eyes at the incredibly cheesy pun as he cracked himself up over it. Chewing on a fry as he nudged her side. “Ha Ha... Making fun of the uncultured angel. How dare you Mr. Scratch” He grinned and took a fry, holding it up to her. “Just try it, if you don’t like it we can throw it away but I’ll be damned if I don’t introduce you to this exquisite delight the mortal world has to offer.”

She raised an eyebrow and took the fry from his hands, biting into it slowly as he eyed her reaction. A pensive, judging expression made its way onto her facial features keeping him anticipating her final judgment. “I kinda like it.” At that, he threw his hands up in the air, a clear signal of his pride. And then, he really got excited. “Do you know what’s even better?” He asked as he took the plastic lid off of the milkshake cup. She waited, assuming that was a rhetorical question.

He dipped one of his fries into the chocolate milkshake and once again held it up in front of her. “This is actually the best. The combination of sweet and salty. Unf, it hits me every single time.” She laughed as she watched him basically fangirl over a chocolate milkshake covered fry but took his offer anyways.

He was right. It was even better than the normal fry. Her eyes widened and she excitedly nodded her head. “This is so good! Why do we not have this back home wow.” As the girl raved on about the food, he took a moment to observe her. The light freckles starting to show as she was being exposed longer and longer to the natural light of the sun during her time on Earth. The dimples that appeared out of nowhere, he one day noticed and couldn’t get out of his head since. The way she crinkled her nose when he complimented her. He wants all of it. All of her. For all of time.

“Hey, you got a little something there.” He says softly as his thumb touches the corner of her mouth, wiping away a little bit of chocolate as a result of her trying another milkshake covered fry. She snaps out of her raving, entranced by his stare. She hadn’t noticed how close they had gotten until their noses were almost touching. His hand resting on her cheek, his thumb ghosting over her bottom lip.

“You take my breath away.” He whispers as he leans in, his soft lips carefully touching hers, giving her time to back out if she wants to. But that’s the peculiar thing...

She doesn’t want to.

A/N: I really had to work for this one cause the pond of inspiration was dry as hell this weekend (pun intended hehe). I hate sundays. So I figured why not attempt to make it a little better.

Hope you like it!

Let me know if you want me to make a part 3

Tags: @ohmypreciousgavinyeet @carostar2020 @i-love-you-green @kaepm981

Masterlist.

#nicholas scratch x reader #nicholas scratch imagine #nick scratch #caos imagine #caos fic #fluff #mystery #dunno where im going w this story in the slightest

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touchlotsofbutts · 5 years ago

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Tay’s fav new artists, songs, albums of 2019; decade favs too <3

Hello friends. I have listened to 20,000 songs this year (#brag). Some of them I have listened to more than once, and some of them are all together on one really good album I like. Here's some lists of the songs, albums, and people who make them that I liked a lot.

For your listening convenience: a Spotify playlist with the artists, songs, and albums in question. One song from each artist, one song from each album: checka me out

5 new artists from (roughly) this year (unordered)

Slayyyter

Slayyyter is the logical conclusion of the early 2000's pop wave, absolutely bubble gum but no longer pulling and punches with its sexual desire. "He wanna get in my guts" indeed.

100 Gecs

I love high energy, I love noise, and I love catchy. Synthesize major electronic musical movements of the last 10 years and then kick that in the dick and you get 100 Gecs.

Stef Chura

A consistent AF album, with great single songs and a slow procession as well, I'm very hyped for more!

Glass Beach

This band is cutting edge, they know a shitton about music, their hour long album feels like it's only 30 minutes, it teleports you away.

Nilüfer Yanya

Clearly someone who is making music with a succinct style and aesthetic, I find it great to see a full album form around (relatively) simple concepts like an imaginary mental health spa.

10 Songs from this year (ordered)

10. "Good News (Ya-Ya Song)" by MUNA

Unexpectedly a smash hit for me, this is such a simple song but something in the melody stirs a deep and warming feeling within me.

9. "Falling Down The Stairs Of Your Smile" by The New Pornographers

New Pornographers always have great singles. Their albums never quite capture the same feeling, and it breaks my heart every time. Still love the band.

8. "Can't Believe The Way We Flow" by James Blake

A many month throwback, this song was a go-to for the whole year. Seemingly forgotten by many (surely not Dave tho), this album and song really showed additional depth for Blake in my eyes.

7. "24" by IDK

Should to DJ Big Fan. This song is fun as fuck and has so many good one-liners. "She says she not a THOT she a nymphooo"

6. "Clarity" by Kim Petras

This song is a guilty pleasure, not because I am ashamed of its content or sound, but because Kim consistently works with Dr. Luke, the fuckhead who absolutely abused Ke$ha. This song absolutely bops though. Oof.

5. "All I Do is Lie" by Stef Chura

A very small sleeper hit for me, and a big regret when I missed Stef playing nearby, but I love the winding and twisting of this song and the simple mantras bouncing back and forth between meanings.

4. "Lark" by Angel Olsen

This song encapsulates all of Angel's album. It's the lead-in to the album, and it truly matches the scope and grandeur.

3. "Stupid Horse" by 100 Gecs

A song so strong I also want to beat the shit out of a jockey. Distill 100 gecs and for me, this song is at the center. High energy, nonsense, and just total fun. I don't feel bad saying I kind of wish all music sounded like this (sometimes).

2. "Jelmore" by Bon Iver

14,115 feet above sea level, I look out to the sweeping arc of the horizon, a cloudy sky blankets the landscape I left behind. Play this song on your rental car speakers when you choose to conquer fear and ascend a towering mountain.

1. "Gretel" by (Sandy) Alex G

I adore the slow fade in, the garbled vocals, the familiar guitar. The garbled mix slowly devolves into a clear message. Alex G has said he never looks up lyrics, that there is an ambiguity to all words in songs. Is that why he sings this with such clear conviction? There's no misinterpretation here: "good people got something to lose."

20 Albums from this year (ordered)

The first ten are great, but I didn't want to blurb for them all!

20. Clarity by Kim Petras

19. MAGDALENE by FKA Twigs

18. Midnight by Stef Chura

17. Miss Universe by Nilüfer Yanya

16. Dedicated by Carly Rae Jepsen

15. Two Hands by Big Thief

14. Assume Form by James Blake

13. basking in the glow by oso oso

12. Why Hasn't Everything Already Disappeared? by Deerhunter

11. Pang by Caroline Polachek

10. Animated Violence Mild by Blanck Mass

I became stuck in place while listening to Blanck Mass on a plane this summer. One of the only albums I downloaded, it was all I had at 30,000 feet, thrumming engines piercing all the other music I had handy. The cacophony only added to this album, noise layered on noise but turning into melodies and stretching into songs.

9. Father of the Bride by Vampire Weekend

I don't know a ton about jam bands, but I definitely feel it when everyone else says this album was made in hopes of becoming one. This long ass album has some great highs, some charming lows, and honestly a really good chunk of Danielle Haim. Really a soundtrack to 2019 in a lot of ways. But it's really fuckin' long.

8. IGOR by Tyler, the Creator

Tyler's career has had the craziest arc. Rapping about killing women and progressing all the way to IGOR, which, is it even a rap album? The album contains such clear direction and vision, and far less of the reckless anger that Tyler became known for. The energy and sound has been honed down to a fine point, and there's a conciseness that sticks with you for hours after listening.

7. House of Sugar by (Sandy) Alex G

Alex G has always done so much for me. Bedroom music that has transformed each time into bigger and more detailed versions of itself. House of Sugar is no exception. While maybe a little less thrilling for me than Rocket, it's another evolution of this stripped down style, still laid bare but richer all the same.

6. U.F.O.F. by Big Thief

A lot of lists are going to feature some Big Thief. Big Thief is good, their music pierces you through the flesh and hits you in the bones. It stirs the spirit of a time now lost, sidelong glances through thickets of woodsy pines, listening to a friend play a simple song on their new guitar. It's great to celebrate a band and an album that puts a lot of pretense to bed and creates a simple, pleasing experience.

5. Charli by Charli XCX

Charli delivers an album after years of PC Music collaborated mix tapes and psuedo-album releases. Charli isn't some sort of second coming, but is the pinnacle of her expertise: fantastic collaborations, cutting edge beats, and familiar tales of her love and loss.

4. All Mirrors by Angel Olsen

Angel wasn't really known for her grandeur. Her songs and albums were dynamic, sure, with strong emotions, but All Mirrors dives into the direction of a grand pool, crystal clear and vast. "Lark" is a sweeping masterpiece, while "All Mirrors" has a methodical build and release. Angel is fully putting her voice and composition to work with an album this magnificent.

3. the first glass beach album by Glass Beach

My favorite description for this band is "post-emo." Many of my compatriots are not fond of band genres in generally, but for me this really nails it. It's a combination of an emotional, DIY scene with an online mentality, which I feel is representing the pace of the world. Also the music absolutely blasts, grand and epic and quiet and pensive, meandering as it wants.

2. Ghosteen by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Until about two months ago, I wasn't even a huge Nick Cave fan. Serendipitously, I happened to look into his backlog a couple weeks before this surpirse release. I spent a small amount of time looking into his older style, but when Ghosteen popped up, it floored me. That tangible loss, the grief that winds around you and grips you from within, it's on this album in full force. It's an album I know I will listen to sparingly, but lovingly, for ages and ages.

1. 1000 Gecs by 100 Gecs

I typically do not measure these kinds of lists by the number of listens. Usually albums with emotional weight or impact are not so accessible or listenable. This album is an absolute exception, it is crystalline and pure, it is powerful and subtle, its energy infectious. For me, it's a clear message describing the future of music I love.

Honorable menties, not conclusive or ordered, from this year:

Albums:

IDK's Is He Real?

Holly Herndon's PROTO

JPEGMAFIA's All My Heroes Are Cornballs

Battles's Juice B Crypts

Bon Iver's i,i

American Football's American Football (LP3)

DIIV's Deceiver

Anamanguchi's [USA]

Sir Babygirl's Crush on Me

Sharon Van Etten's Remind Me Tomorrow

Hemlock Ernst & Kenny Segal's Back At The House

Jay Som's Anak Ko

Florist's Emily Alone

Songs:

"Harmony Hall" by Vampire Weekend

"Superbike" by Jay Som

"Aute Cuture" by ROSALÍA

Many many others!

Roughly 10 of 2010-2019's best albums (unordered)

Halcyon Digest by Deerhunter

Encapsulate all of the indie rock I listened to and make it so dramatic it oozes lackadaisical energy.

The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do by Fiona Apple

The title is as long as the album is great. I am chomping at the bit for Fiona to follow this up with literally anything.

Carrie & Lowell by Sufjan Stevens

Many feel Sufjan could do no wrong, but it's not that he's unimpeachable, it's that he is able to shift his sound in pivotal ways at pivotal moments.

Cerulean Salt by Waxahatchee

Waxahatchee captured the post college ennui I was so suddenly thrust into, and continues to kick ass even after I got over the dread.

Allelujah! Don't Bend! Ascend! by Godspeed You! Black Emperor

This album kicks ass, but also I have an undying emotional connection to it since I listened to it on repeat the months after pops died! "We Drift Like Worried Fire" is entwined in my soul.

Good Kid, M.A.A.D City by Kendrick Lamar

There is a lot of great Kendrick to choose from, but the one absolutely stacked with bangers will remain my favorite (but I totally acknowledge the artistic merit and beyond of Damn. and TPAB).

The Monitor by Titus Andronicus

I only got into this album like four years after the fact, but it scratched the civil-war-concept-album-actually-about-the-Northeast I didn't know I had! Pumped it also taught me a cool Abe Lincoln speech.

E•MO•TION by Carly Rae Jepsen

This album guided me from toeing around pop music to going all in and finally have a good time in life.

Song of the summer:

"Steal My Sunshine" by Len

Remarkably, for the 20th year in a row, the song of the summer is Len's "Steal My Sunshine." What a powerhouse.

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ghost-comets · 6 years ago

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YA GIRL GOT THE GREAT COMET BOOK!

and then binge read it all in one night. Anyway,these are some of my fave bits, somewhat in order!

In an email to the cast in 2012, Prologue’s original title was “Look It Up In Your Program, You’re In A Complicated Russian Novel, What Did You Expect?”. The lyrics “We’d appreciate it, thanks a lot” was also “What did you expect?”, but Rachel Chavkin suggested Dave be nicer to the audience.

People are referred to as Unicorns on two occasions, “This cast of beautiful unicorns” by Jason Eagen on Pg 22, and “We’ve always said that The Great Comet is an ensemble of unicorns” by Sam Pinkleton on Pg 56.

“This is what happens when you mix mass anxiety with a lot of vodka.”-Paloma Young, about the costumes.

Andrey is there during the Duel, rocking the party from Pierre’s study-turned-DJ-booth. He has been nicknamed both “DJ Andrey 3000” and “DJ Dreteen 12”.

Pierre is a conspiracy theorist, and the robe for Old Prince Bolkonsky’s costume was once used in some shrouded Freemason activity.

Phillipa Soo and Nick Choksi went to Juilliard together!

For about a week at A.R.T., Nicholas Belton gave out Scott Stangland’s phone number during Letters with a note reading, “My friend Pierre is lonely, won’t you give him a call?”. Scott received several awkward voicemails and text messages from women wanting to know if he was busy later.

When Josh Groban joined the team, Josh Canfield decided to start calling him Josh 2, and Groban referred to him as Josh 1 since Canfield had been there first.

You know that snow machine in No One Else? Well when it was added, it took a few shows to calibrate it to snow the right amount, so on occasion Natasha would be singing her sweet love song to the moon in the middle of a full on blizzard.

“Pierre shook his head and arms as if attacked by mosquitos or bees”- a line from War and Peace, which Dave desperately wanted to include. For the sequel!

Josh Groban named his accordion Olga.

Lucas Steele says that he first thought Dave seemed pensive and slightly gruff-looking, but he later learned that he was “an absolute teddy bear”.

One of the first times Lucas sang Natasha and Anatole, Rachel Chavkin had the casting director Henry sing as Natasha. Lucas had no problem with this, and said he knew he was capable of having chemistry with a tin can if needed. He then proceeded to make direct eye contact with Henry for seven whole measures before slightly cocking his head and flashing him a smile. Everyone at the table laughed.

Now we get to the actual lyric annotations!

The original draft of Prologue was “a lyrical nightmare” and features lines such as “and Dolokhov, his friend, is fierce. Wouldn’t wanna mess with him.” and “Mary and the Old Prince are minor characters. They’ll get things going and you’ll never see them again.”

Sometimes during rehearsal Pippa would sing “Oh I can soothe myself with ironing” instead of “irony”

The first draft of the show did not have the Duel, but rather a scene where Pierre, Anatole, and Dolokhov get roaring drunk, tie a policeman to a bear, and throw them both into a river. This was actually in a workshop, using a large stuffed bear. Sadly, this idea did not survive the workshop.

Dave and Rachel would say that Balaga’s age is probably a few millennia into immortal.

Denisov has a speech impediment which is transliterated in different ways, one of which is literally the uwu voice. Meaning Paul Pinto originally gave his speech in the Duel as “As the advewsawies have wefused a weconciliation, we shaw pwease pwocede with the duew…” This was cut.

Dave calls the strings after Anatole and Natasha’s kiss “the strings of doom”

During rehearsals, sometimes Brittain would sing “I burst into flames” instead of “I burst into sobs.” (Starchild, anyone?)

“On the day that Sonya decided to save her” Oh so Dolokhov is an omniscient narrator, at least when it comes to the woman he once proposed to.

“What a foot she has”- Dave’s annotation literally just says “Anatole is totally into feet”

Nick Choksi, aka Dolokhov, cannot whistle, so when they say “When they reached the gate Dolokhov whistled” either Or or Andrey has to do it for him.

“So thankful I am here on earth during the same time Grace Mclean is visiting.”-Dave Malloy, page 192.

Sometimes during rehearsals, Dave would sing “I have been snorkeling” instead of “I have been studying.”

The high C# on PETERSBUUUURG was written as a joke in a moment of Dave’s frustration that he forgot to about until rehearsals when Lucas just...did...THAT.

On the page with the Pierre & Andrey lyrics, there’s just???? A picture of a drumset on the side????? With no context whatsoever??? Dave Malloy what????

Sorry this was so long! I might make another post with the great ponytail hairstyle Lucas had on page 112 because it wouldn’t let me put it here, but that’s all for this one.

#great comet #Natasha Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 #npatgco1812 #dave malloy #rachel chavkin #lucas steele #phillipa soo #this took forever #but it was worth it #dave malloy I have questions

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ktrsvo · 7 years ago

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racing to sixty

In which Simon tells Bram that he is Jacques during the party.

@mia-the-dork *shows up 2 days late wearing sunglasses and a garbage bag* hey thanks for the prompt!!

Simon knows exactly how this story might go - how it might end - but still it does not stop him from staggering tipsily up the stairs, trying to fend off the fogginess that has settled in his mind. There’s that logical part of him that’s yanking tightly on the reins, warning him that he’s only setting himself up for disappointment, but there’s also another voice in his head, the loud, optimistic sunshine-and-rainbows one that says fuck, to hell with all caution. Like seriously, screw it.

Go for it, buddy.

Give this one your best shot.

Eyes forward, chin held up high.

When, at last, he reaches the second floor, he braces himself up against the wall for a moment. His knees threaten to buckle underneath his weight, and his stomach feels like it’s been wrung bone-dry and put in a trivection oven to bake. His insides, they’re this scrambled - though, arguably not as much as his brain is.

His outfit’s starting to feel real suffocating. Especially at the shoulders and around the neck. Simon sucks in a shuddering inhale, pops off the first three buttons on his shirt. His wig got lost somewhere along the way, so that explains the pleasant absence of weight on his head.

“You can do this,” Simon half-whispers to himself, as he disappears into the bathroom to mull over this situation a little bit more.

The pale white lighting overhead casts a strange aura to his face, Simon observes, staring at himself in the mirror. Not anything bad, not anything negative, no. It’s a glow of confidence, one he so often sees inhabit Nick’s face before an important game, filled with the belief that everything will turn out A-okay.

“Hey, Bram, it’s me, Jacques,” Simon says to his reflection in the mirror, fingers curled decisively on the countertop.

The sentence comes out flat, stale. Lame. So that one’s going out the window, definitely. Simon thinks for a moment, willing his addled brain to come up with something a bit flashier on the fly, but all that his wishing has got to show for is a dumb variation.

Hey, Barack, it’s me, Jacques .

A small snicker escapes Simon. Ha, ha, very funny - though, least this one’s got rhyme to it. A smoothness, a style - but Simon figures that instead of clapping himself on the back he’ll end up smacking himself if he seriously messes up the execution. Because Simon logic, you know.

Ah, the ever-frustrating, migraine-inducing physiology of the Simon Spier brain. Definitely not interesting enough to anatomize Freudian-style, but, whatever, Simon has better things to do than get pissy over being too unworthy for a hypothetical consideration by a guy who’s been dead since forever.

And so Simon makes his way out of the bathroom. Shuffles towards the nearest bedroom in the vicinity, because yeah, it’s totally where Bram’ll be chilling at, his job as gracious party host be damned.

Before Simon can get his hand on the doorknob, a wave of self-doubt comes crashing around his ears. He groans. Really? He’s just one second away from pulling the trigger, and the image that chooses to manifest in his mind is of Bram hooking up with a random girl?

“Stop,” Simon murmurs more to himself than anyone else.

A simple twist has the door clicking open, and then the worst case scenario disintegrates completely. Shatters like glass.

Simon’s breath sticks in his throat. There’s a sudden pounding in his ears that he’s sure has absolutely nothing to do with the shots he downed earlier. Also, Simon doesn’t remember his shirt being this stuffy. Or hot.

(Confidence restored? Kind of?)

Bram’s sitting down on the bed, looking deep in thought - a signature Bram expression that ought to be established as its own brand. Simon snickers. Then thinks: it always seems like there’s some sort of very important internal monologue going on inside Bram’s head. It could be about anything. Tax rebates, socialism, dumb puns, whether or not Keanu Reeves is truly immortal, the cool soccer moves he did yesterday, the lyrics of Between the Bars - assuming that he’s Blue, but even if he isn’t, it’s still possible, it’s not like Simon is the only one who knows and digs Elliott Smith.

So, yeah, a concoction of worldly issues, bad jokes, and depressing music - though, it’s probably leaning more towards the intellectual stuff. And, okay, definitely the sports stuff, too. Because Bram’s good at both. Great, actually.

(Simon is totally justified in his assumptions, because Bram’s always been one of those super smart, all-around guys. The handsome, sporty nerd types everyone has a crush on - grandmothers included. It’s amazing, really.)

“Simon?” Bram’s voice cuts through the haze of Simon’s thoughts.

Simon stops.

Functioning, that is. And it’s all because Bram’s got his soft, brown-eyed gaze locked onto Simon’s face, one that somehow evokes an image of an adorable puppy lounging on a stretch of sunlit grass. Simon’s cheeks warm. His pulse does a funny dance.

He stares, unable to look away.

It’s a curious thing, the cute, downward slope of Bram’s mouth when he’s thinking real hard, both dimples exposed, eyes glittering. Luminous.

God, has Bram always been this unfairly good-looking?

(Simon is reminded of how very gay he is. And repressed.)

I have feelings for you, Simon thinks with all his mind. And soul.

“Uh, sorry? I didn’t quite catch that,” Bram says, and Simon’s blood turns into fire. He actually said that out loud?The words leave a painful scorch in their wake, extinguishing what little rationality is left over in Simon’s mind. The motormouth in him has started to take off, racing at around sixty trillion miles per beat, and if Simon were in full possession of his mental faculties, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but since he’s not at his best - though, not exactly scraping rock-bottom, either - this can only bode ill for the next five seconds.

Simon moves forward. One foot in front of the other, slow, methodical, deliberate. He gets up and close, and then, exultant, he gets floored by the precise colour of Bram’s eyes. The crescent-shaped dimples on his cheeks. The pensive bend of his brow. The cupid’s bow of his mouth. The warm, rich hue of his skin - warm warm warm.

Bram Greenfeld is here, in the flesh, within Simon’s reach - physically speaking, of course; he’s still unsure about the mentally bit. Now, here’s the part where Simon should carefully consider what he should say next, but because Simon’s far from being an international gold-medalist at think-before-you-act, he ends up plunging himself into the deep end instead of simply testing out the waters - you know , just dipping your toes in, gauging for the feel of the moment so that you don’t end up fucking embarrass yourself.

“Bram,” Simon says, then shakes his head, “no, I mean - Barack -” At this, Bram raises his eyebrows -”it’s me, Jacques.”

A beat of silence ensues, then two, three, four. Just as Simon is arriving at the conclusion that he’s made a serious miscalculation, recognition, pure and unfiltered, settles along Bram’s features. His jaw goes slack, and his forehead creases, like he cannot believe that Jacques is really, really here. Fully corporeal. No longer a collection of pixels and Arial font letters.

And then realization hits Simon, too - hard. His mind spins, tilts, whirls, as it tries to reconcile this reality to the fantasy Simon has been constructing out of little more than a few vague hints.

“You’re Jacques,” Bram says, slowly, as though testing the heft of the name on his tongue.

Simon swallows. “And you’re Blue. Right?” He must be. Obviously. Simon doesn’t think he can bear the alternative.

Bram purses his lips. “Donner sa langue au chat ,” he says, and it occurs to Simon that he’s referencing a conversation they had a few emails ago. Give up guessing an answer. The funny thing is, the phrase could also apply to their current situation.

“Oui?” Simon says.

Bram nods. “Yeah.”

Five minutes later, they’re sitting side-by-side on the bed, knees touching, not speaking. Like they’ve both gone into shock, now on the verge - the cusp - of experiencing cardiac arrest, which, all things considered, is fair enough. Their hands are close enough to touch, and the proximity is electrifying - probably even more so than if they were actually touching.

“I still can’t believe that it’s actually you,�� Simon breathes out, breaking the near-silence between them.

“So … you’re disappointed?” Bram’s voice is small. Quiet. Not at all the reaction Simon intended to draw out of him.

“No, no, no, you have it the wrong way,” Simon says impatiently, shaking his head. And it’s true. If anything, it’s Simon who should be asking that question. “Are you kidding me, Bram?” His tone rises up a notch, the way it does whenever he works himself up into an impassioned frenzy - which is next to never, because he’s too awkward for raw, heartfelt spiels, theatre club antics not included. “It’s just that you’re you, Mr. Everyone’s-Got-Their-Eyes-On-Me Greenfeld. I mean, ever take a good look at yourself in the mirror? Like, God, imagine exchanging anonymous messages with someone and finding out that Mystery Person is this smart, popular, sporty, good-looking guy who has always been totally out of your league, who you thought was totally straight and therefore would never have a chance with.” The words continue to pour, relentlessly. “See, this is pretty much the stuff of dreams, Bram, holy shit, I mean, you’ve got me over here, someone who’s a disaster when it comes to starting conversations with cute boys - or just people in general - and then we’ve got you, who -”

Bram’s hand closes around Simon’s. Simon’s mouth closes. “Simon,” he begins in a light tone of voice, the kind that typically precedes a chuckle, “for what it’s worth, I was hoping that Jacques would be you.”

Simon blinks. Lets out an exhale. So … the feeling is mutual, then. Oh.

“Since when?” Simon bleats, because the revelation still feels too brittle. Too new. Like it’s merely an illusion Simon managed to will into existence through sheer wishing alone, an easy-to-break fantasy. Cruel by virtue of it simply existing in its false, hollow state.

At least if Simon never dreamt this up, a desire for more would have never been incited in him.

But when Bram tilts up Simon’s chin with his fingers, saying, “I’ve been crushing on you for a long time, now, Spier. Of course I’d want Jacques to be you,” the impact solidifies - turns real - and then the gap between them is closing, closing, closing, until Bram’s lips are on his.

The kiss starts off awkward. Clumsy.

It is more mouth than feeling, a sweaty fumble of boy instead of exhilaration. But it isn’t bad, no. As a matter of fact, it’s the best kiss he’s ever had in his entire life - not that he’s had enough good or real ones to have a proper benchmark. Simon doesn’t know where his hands should go, if he should be touching Bram here, or touching Bram there, so he just lets Bram guide their mouths together into a slow, experimental rhythm.

And it works out just fine. Bram’s lips are soft against his, so pliant, so warm, and Simon nearly dies on the spot when Bram does the thing, nipping at his bottom lip lightly with his teeth. They break away for a second, to gather their bearings, before pressing up against each other again - this time with a little bit of familiarity and a lot more fervour.

Simon figured out along the way that it would be best to rest his hands right here, on Bram’s shoulders, so that’s what he does now. Every press of Bram’s mouth sears his skin, raises his body temperature a notch higher each time, until Simon’s sure he’s practically indistinguishable from flame. Made from it, even. Embers and all.

The sound that emerges from Simon’s throat is a needy, almost carnal groan that Simon’s sure will plague him later on in his dreams, but for now there is only this: Bram kissing him senseless, breathless, motionless.

They hastily pull apart when there’s a loud knock, the door swinging open to reveal some chick in a minion costume. But the moment she disappears, Bram draws Simon in for another kiss, and the rest is history.

#i woke up and realized that i actually have free time today #wild...#love simon #simon spier #bram greenfeld #spierfeld #my writing

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notlivingwithoutyou · 6 years ago

Text

Questionaire

It’s a long’ne

Basic Character Questions

First name? - Rudiania

Surname? - Evermore

Middle names? - Lynn

Nicknames? - Rudi

Date of birth? - July 20, 1 L.C.

Age? - Died at age 25

Physical / Appearance

Height? - 5′5″

Weight? - 130lb

Build? - In life she had a LITTLE bulk. Functional core and arm muscles from work on the farm. She got a bit leaner, and more toned over her time in the military.

Hair colour? - Black

Hair style? - Variant of a pixie cut with long, side swept bangs.

Eye colour? - Black, including the sclera due to demon/fel taint at the site of her death. In life - brown.

Eye Shape? - ‘Upturned’ almond shape

Glasses or contact lenses? - None

Distinguishing facial features? - The skin upon her jaw is aftermarket so it doesn’t QUITE match up in tone. Her bottom lip is also slightly fuller than her original, top lip. This can sometimes make her look like she has an under-bite. She’s conscious of this and is usually positioning her jaw/mouth to try and hide it.

Which facial feature is most prominent? - Eyes

Which bodily feature is most prominent? - Nothing particularly extraordinary. She’s a bit pear shaped, her breasts being on the smaller side with wide hips.

Other distinguishing features? - Nah

Skin? - Very pale, ashen.

Hands? - Calloused from work. Has very short nails for the same reason.

Make up? - No, but she has new motivation to try it.

Scars? - Plenty of small nicks and scars both from her time on the farm and in the service. The largest is a crescent-like shape near her left hip. A kobold tried to take a piece out of her and her shield wasn’t in the best position…

Birthmarks? - None

Tattoos? - No

Physical handicaps? - Slightly near sighted - archery courses didn’t go well.

Type of clothes? - When she’s lounging around she’s content in breeches and a belted tunic.

How do they wear their clothes? - Comfortably? She has slightly over-sized tunics she enjoys relaxing in if she’s not donning armor that day.

What are their feet like? (type of shoes, state of shoes, socks, feet, pristine, dirty, worn, etc) - She likes to wear large boots, they usually include an equally large sole to give her more height. They’re well worn from the soldiers life - probably due for a sole replacement soon. With all the walking she tends to “burn through” socks quickly too so she doesn’t always wear them. When she does, she likes to wear over-the-knee style as an additional set of padding between her skin and her boots/cuisses.

Race / Ethnicity? - Human Forsaken

Mannerisms? - She tends to carry herself with a rigid stillness when she is on the job/not among friends, pensive. All business. When around those she is familiar there is a visible shift in how she holds herself and she becomes much more animated and engaging.

Are they in good health? - …She’s dead? She’s in one piece.

Do they have any disabilities? - Some would consider undeath a disability. Healing magic is painful. All of her senses are dulled compared to the living.

Personality

What words or phrases do they overuse? - “Absolutely” is her go-to affirmative.

Do they have a catchphrase? - Closest thing would be what she chants when she’s asked to drill a new recruit on shield use, “Location. Location. Location.”

Are they more optimistic or pessimistic? - She’s pessimistic by nature with her thoughts leaping to the worst - but she’s working on it.

Are they introverted or extroverted? - She’s a bit of a switch. After a long assignment with her squad she really wants to shut herself alone in a room for a few days. However she’s also fond of big nights in the barracks while the living are still awake.

Do they ever put on airs? - Nah. She doesn’t care for those that do either. She transferred out of Silvermoon A.S.A.P.

What bad habits do they have? - She’s messy as far as her belongings/living space. In life she liked to drink but now it doesn’t taste right. She’s a fidgeter. Stubbornness. She will zone-out, deep in thought more often than she should. Even on duty.

What makes them laugh out loud? - Physical comedy. Puns.

How do they display affection? - Very physical. Hand holding, cuddling, small kisses. Gifts: practical things that are of use in the intended’s day to day.

Mental handicaps? - I think phobias is on this list too so I won’t list that um.. No I guess. She’s livin’ the dream as one of the able minded.

How do they want to be seen by others? - Respectable, tough (these are part of why she has a boyish appearance, to be taken seriously which is hard at 5′5″), dependable, sincere.

How do they see themselves? - Inadequate, unintelligent, uninteresting - but one hell of a scrapper.

How are they seen by others? - Her family viewed her as very willful and bright.

Strongest character trait? - Definitely her dependability. She’s a woman of her word.

Weakest character trait? - Boot Camp managed to iron some of the impatience out of her but as mentioned elsewhere she can be stubborn. Good luck changing her mind on an issue without a good argument.

How competitive are they? - Fairly. She’s always feeling like she has something to prove.

Do they make snap judgments or take time to consider? - She was really bad about jumping to conclusions in her youth. Now more often than not she manages to catch and talk herself back to not act on something but it will still be lurking there...

How do they react to praise? - She does the socially acceptable thing to smile and say thank you - but most of the time she’s dismissing it. Most of her life it’s been an unwanted type of praise or it’s sounded hollow.

How do they react to criticism? - If it’s something serious it hits pretty hard given her views of herself but she has to maintain that Front of strength. If it’s something silly like they want to say her chin looks funny she’ll tell them off - and then go stare in a mirror for a half hour.

What is their greatest fear? - ....You mean pick ONE?

What are their biggest secrets? - She’s lived a pretty open and simple life so she hasn’t had need for them. The one Big one that might one day mean her True Death is her personal Oath to protect her brothers - even if that means facing down Ertrig...

What is their philosophy of life? - Well this is connected to her attempts to deter her pessimism. She’s trying to remember there is always going to be bad times - she was 7 years dead and the war she was in never really ended. So you have to try and get happiness where you can, in the little things because that’s what’s worth being alive for. Time is wasted if you’re dwelling in darkness.

When was the last time they cried? - When she recently rushed to Ertrig, scared she had ruined everything.

What haunts them? - Oh boy. Alright so, why she goes stir crazy at night/off duty when others have the sanctuary of sleep. If she doesn’t have distraction she is trapped in her brain with what haunts her. All the little things she could have done differently in life. The people she’s left behind and can’t approach now because she’d probably be attacked on sight. She still really misses her parents. The fact she’ll never have a family of her own. The fact that no matter how hard she fights to stay alive she will one day turn into one of the things she regularly cuts down in The Scar. The day Ertrig does. The day the Alliance and the Horde quit dancing around each other and focus.

What are their political views? - In life she was very pro-Alliance - but she’s learned the mess that is the political climate is not that simple. So I guess Disillusioned. She’s not Ride-or-Die this go around.

What will they stand up for? - This is hard to put to words without sounding cliche but she stands for justice. That’s one reason she’s adjusted so well to fighting for the Forsaken. They deserve justice. But she also believes in fairness. Things must be tempered! Killing random humans is not justice. That’s why she saved the buried humans in Hillsbrad Foothills. The innocent don’t deserve to suffer in the crossfire.

Who do they quote? - She doesn’t. Her words are her own.

Are they indoorsy or outdoorsy? - Both! She has hobbies of both domains.

What is their sinful little habit? - Ah.... she... oogles the Captain... if she thinks no one is looking.

What sense do they most rely on? - Hearing.

How do they treat people better than them? - With much respect, a bit of awe depending on the individual.

How do they treat people worse than them? - Barest civility (she has SOME class).

What quality do they most value in a friend? - Genuineness.

What do they consider an overrated virtue? - Orderliness.

If they could change one thing about themselves, what would it be? - She wishes she had an exceptional talent to make her unique.

What is their obsession? - Right now she’s still trying to play catch up with the years she was dead. Books, music, the cataclysm, the new furry bear people, so much going on.

What are their pet peeves? - Spitters. People that cough without covering their mouth (ESPECIALLY fellow Forsaken. Keep your bits to yourself my friend). Being interrupted/talked over. Passive Aggressive Behavior, spit it out and confront her or fuck off.

What are their idiosyncrasies? - Mmm the definition of this seems to be a little vague so I will do my best. She’s obsessed with personal hygiene. She talks to herself fairly often, especially when she’s cooking or working with herbs. She also sings to herself, again when working or when traveling. When she comes across a flyer or poster she gives it a dramatic reading - though it might not be very loud (Again, talking to herself. She’d probably have more than 4 friends if she was as talkative to strangers as she was with herself). Her spaces are cluttered but her armor/boots/daily gear all goes into the exact same place in the exact same positions every night. If she’s presented with something new she HAS to touch it, inspect it, maybe take it apart, WHAT ARE YOU HOW DO YOU THING.

Friends and Family

Is their family big or small? Who does it consist of? - It’s small now. She simply has two brothers left. Her parents might be scourge or forsaken living elsewhere or simply dead. Erttie.

What is their perception of family? - Trustworthy. People that you love and love you in turn. Would come to your aid and have your back. Shelter in the storm.

Do they have siblings? Older or younger? - Older, two. Her brothers James and Eric were born in 6 P.C. and 4 P.C. respectively.

Describe their best friend. - Right now her best friend is a young, shying violet of a blood elf of all things. Maybe it’s because her young age and sheltered past have prevented her from picking up Blood Elven....social habits....

Ideal best friend? - Genuine, dependable, adventurous, honorable, loyal, witty, supportive but willing to call her on her shit. You said IDEAL.

Describe their other friends. - Quiet, steady, reliable

Describe their acquaintances. - Outside of the company, the most common face she sees is when she wills herself onto the Orgrimmar Zeppelin. Deathguard Lawson held the ship for her once so she bares a few moments of pleasantries on deck before hiding inside. He is often curt but never sour.

Do they have any pets? - Ertrig noticed her affection for animals and gifted her a young firebat pup. She’s working with it regularly in hopes of it being a companion around and away from HQ.

Who are their natural allies? - There’s this instant camaraderie among the Forsaken that she’s noticed and kind of grateful for. It’s Us Against The World.

Who are their surprising allies? - Annie is her surprising ally! She never expected to meet an elf of her ilk.

Past and Future

What was your character like as a baby? As a child? - She was very rambunctious and once she could crawl she was exploring all over the place if she was put down for even a minute. This continued as a child, following her brothers wherever they went.

Did they grow up rich or poor? - It was neither extreme. It was Enough. The weather was usually well enough for decent crops each season - though one year an odd fungus wiped out a good portion of potatoes.

Did they grow up nurtured or neglected? - Rudi was The Baby. She was nurtured.

What is the most offensive thing they ever said? - She’s not very hateful by nature but she did her share of anti-Horde jesting with other soldiers over drinks while alive.

What is their greatest achievement? - Getting to leave home. Her parents were fine with her brothers enlisting but it took some convincing for them to be alright with her departure. She wanted to leave home on good terms. And it ended up saving her…

What was their first kiss like? - Awkward. Hiding from her brothers in some underbrush when she was 13 with a boy from Pyrewood.

What is the worst thing they did to someone they loved? - Chucked her brother Eric’s pocket knife into a knothole. Told him where he could find it. Didn’t tell him it was a home to a group of bees. Her mother gave her quite the tongue lashing while treating Eric’s sting covered hand.

What are their ambitions? - Low. She’ll be happy if she can survive the war and be able to retire to a quiet plot of land.

What advice would they give their younger self? - Think twice. Hug often. Don’t walk away mad. Yes it’s been long enough to send another letter.

What smells remind them of their childhood? - Pine! Damp earth. Burning sage. Musty books. Water.

What was their childhood ambition? - She actually wanted to be a great mage, burn away all her foes and have ALL the cookies to herself!

What is their best childhood memory? - She was eight. Her brothers were older, their interests were changing. They were getting different hobbies and didn’t play with her as much. James took her out, just the two of them and gave her her first riding lesson. No matter what she did wrong he was never condescending or mean about it. He was patient and treated her like an equal for the first time instead of the annoying tag-a-long little sister.

What is their worst childhood memory? - One morning she was the first to wake up and decided to start feeding the livestock. She walked out to a gory scene of blood, dismembered dairy cows and their maimed shepard dog, Tobias. Her father had to put him down.

Did they have an imaginary childhood friend? - No

When was the last time they were crushed with disappointment? - Ah... when they were first resurrected.

What past act are they most ashamed of? - What she did to her brother Eric. Now that’s she’s older she knows he could have died either from the sheer amount of stings or falling from the tree.

What past act are they most proud of? - She entered an infamous Dark Portal. She stared down demons. She died honorably.

Has anyone ever saved their life? - Yes. To her embarrassment James fished her out of Lordaeron Lake.

Strongest childhood memory? - The previously mentioned horse-riding lesson. It was a turning point for the better for their relationship.

Love

Do they believe in love at first sight? - A bit

Are they in a relationship? - Yes!

How do they behave in a relationship? - She’s very affectionate and doting, faithful to whom she is with.

What sort of sex do they have? - Her dulled sense of touch is making her feel more adventurous since some extra intensity is required.

Has your character ever been in love? - In the past, she thought she was but it doesn’t compare to what she has right now.

Have they ever had their heart broken? - Yes

Conflict

How do they respond to a threat? - While impulsive she’s learned that its best to gauge the severity of the threat, especially on duty when you represent Others. So she will Wait And See but she’s not above sending a gauntlet into someone’s face.

Are they most likely to fight with their fists or their tongue? - She’s really not big on mind games. That’s more suited to elves. If you REALLY want to throw down she can meet you when her shift is over.

What is your character’s kryptonite? - Her loved ones. She really dreads the possible day she looks across a battlefield and sees her brothers.

If your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be? - Most likely she’d be sharing a house with Erttie so…

How do they perceive strangers? - She does her best to treat everyone with the same level of civility regardless of race. Even Blood Elves. Which can be dangerous because by nature she’s more trusting than she should be.

What do they love to hate? - …..it’selvesokay…

What are their phobias? - Acrophobia. Grew up with her feet firmly planted on the ground and she prefers it that way thank you very much.

What is their choice of weapon? - Long sword and shield.

What living person do they most despise? - Right now she really doesn’t like what she’s heard about Stormwind’s new ruler… She feels like humans have become an absolute mess while she was ‘gone’. But who knows? Maybe she’s falling for biased propaganda again...

Have they ever been bullied or teased? - Of course, she had two older brothers. When she was 6 they thought it was hilarious to trap her in the outhouse. She was there for about 2 hours until her mum found her.

Where do they go when they’re angry? - She takes walks. She can’t stay still when she’s worked up/agitated.

Who are their enemies and why? - It sounds cliche but really her biggest enemy right now is herself. She’s living and helping people that she was fighting tooth and nail against. She’s trying to be better informed about events and not let former prejudices sway her. Quiet nights are an enemy because her brain runs away with thoughts of her fears. She fears True Death. She fears fighting her family. She fears becoming a mindless husk, of something happening to Ertrig, of the horde turning on The Forsaken - There’s a reason she has her fingers in so many pies hobby wise.

Work, Education and Hobbies

What is their current job? - Deathguard in the Forsaken Military. She’s under the banner of a specific company: Tranquillien Expedition. It was set up as a line of defense against the remaining scourge in the Ghostlands and Eversong Woods.

What do they think about their current job? - She is content. She’s not on any major Front as of now but she is still sent out to do what she feels is good.

What are some of their past jobs? - Her adolescence was spent on the family farm. After that she joined the alliance military until her death.

What are their hobbies? - Reading, fishing, trying foods, experimenting with herbs and how they effect her new body, day dreaming.

Educational background? - She was homeschooled by her retired-schoolmarm mother.

Intelligence level? - She’s not mage level but she is smarter-than-the-average-bear. Her mum accredited this to the fact she was always an avid reader (being a former schoolmarm there were plenty of books at home).

Do they have any specialist training? - Martial training in sword play, use of a shield, riding, fully literate, able to complete minor armor repair.

Do they have a natural talent for something? - Not really. She wishes.

Do they play a sport? Are they any good? - If swordsmanship is a sport they are pretty okay. I mean she still has all the parts she was pulled out of the dirt with. Actually she has extra!

What is their socioeconomic status? - Soldier. I guess that rates to like a low middle class?

Favourites

What is their favourite animal? - Goats!

Which animal to they dislike the most? - Slimes…

What place would they most like to visit? - She’s crossed a lot of places off her list on assignment but recently she’s seen a race of…bear….? People? (Pandaren) She’s curious where they come from.

What is the most beautiful thing they’ve ever seen? - The ocean at sunset.

What is their favourite song? - As much as she dislikes elves, their choirs left her awestruck. (A group did a morale tour once. She couldn’t tell you the name of any song. She doesn’t know elvish!) Not a lot of canon in-world music to pick from so... This would be playing a lot lately. https://youtu.be/m3lF2qEA2cw

Music, art, reading preferred? - Since metal bands exist in Azeroth I am going to say Big Band/swing orchestras do too. Whatever equates to the romanticism period of art in Azeroth. And she loves to read action adventure. Some romance every now and then. Bonus if both!

What is their favourite colour? Dark green, purple a close 2nd

What is their password? - I guess in a modern AU her pass would be something like LordaeronRefuge26

Favourite food: In life it was cottage pie. Hasn’t had one since she was Raised and hasn’t made anything particularly amazing in her cooking experiments.

What is their favourite work of art? - She doesn’t get the opportunity to admire a lot of fine art but she’s reading an adventure series about a bounty hunter witch that comes up against extreme obstacles and is struggling with self acceptance and the ways of the world. She obviously identifies pretty strongly.

Who is their favourite artist? - Probably whatever the most popular orchestra group is.

What is their favourite day of the week? - She’s been ‘up’ about 5 months now so she’s still in the ‘happy to be living’ phase. Also given her occupation there’s no set work week?

Possessions

What is in their fridge: N/A! But she would probably stock one with random ingredients and soft drinks. She likes feeling the fizz.

What is on their bedside table? - Candle. Books. Maybe an empty bottle or two.

What is in their car? - In the saddle bags: Scroll case with lots of parchment/stationary. 2 stoppered Ink wells. 2 fountain pens. A few coal sticks (’pencils’). A bottle of patchouli oil. Flint and steel. 3 Candles. Soap. A torch. Coil of hempen rope. 2 changes of smalls bundled in a towel. A pair of socks. Whatever book she’s working through. Two wineskins of water.

What is in their bin? - Lots of aborted letters and would be recipes.

What is in their purse or wallet? - Her coin purse holds only coins. She would forget about anything else she stored there and if she was hit by a cut-purse she wouldn’t want to lose something else.

What is in their pockets? - We’re going to go with like, belt pockets instead of Bags. She’s got money, a handkerchief, a ring, a small, carved skull roughly the size of a ‘worry stone’, pocket knife, herbs if she’s spotted interesting ones. There’s an old worn invitation to a blood elf’s party she’s kept because it was the first friendly thing extended to her at Silvermoon (and helps her fight her prejudice).

What is their most treasured possession? - The first gift Ertrig ever gave her was a ring. She isn’t able to wear it often because of her occupation/armor. But sometimes at night/when off duty she’ll take it out and put it on. She’ll experiment with how Rudiania Lasthollow rolls off her tongue.

Spirituality

Who or what is your character’s guardian angel? - He’s large, very quiet and wears captain’s bars.

Do they believe in the afterlife? - Ha…ha ha ha…HA HA HA HA.

What are their religious views? - She was never very devout about the light. She’s fairly practical in that most things happen because people made it so. That they can take steps to prevent the bad in their life/the world - she does!

What do they think heaven is? - In her opinion she has it. She’s gotten a second shot at living and someone special to spend the time with.

What do they think hell is? - Nothing. It’s nothingness. She was there.

Are they superstitious? - Yes. If she spills salt, she does the counter move. If she spots a stray black cat, she leaves it some food so it doesn’t will the bad energy onto her. For the best yield a crop should be sown north to south. Never number livestock with a 13. When she was a girl she broke her mothers hand mirror and you can bet her life was hell for a while. She believes in karma.

What would they like to be reincarnated as? - She’d be good with doing the human thing again.

How would they like to die? - She’s already had the honorable death in battle. She tries not to think of True Death.

What is your character’s spirit animal? - Probably the little farm animal she loves, the goat. They are energetic, playful and awkward at times. They can also be stubborn and make use of their horns when necessary.

What is their zodiac sign? - She’s a Leo!

Values

What do they think is the worst thing that can be done to a person? - We’ll go with what would probably be the worse thing that could happen to her which would be to have all of her loved ones tortured and killed in front of her while she can do nothing.

What is their view of ‘freedom’? - Being able to shape your own future to what you desire.

When did they last lie? - She told the High Executor over her unit that she owed Ertrig a favor and requested his last reported position.

What’s their view of lying? - Mixed. She feels there’s no good reason to seriously lie to anyone you are close to. Most lies just end up hurting people in one way or another including oneself.

When did they last make a promise? - She too readily uses the phrase “I promise” when she’s asked to be careful. I imagine she’s had the exchange with Annie plenty.

Did they keep or break their last promise? - Broken. She’s a little reckless going into a fight because of her higher tolerance of pain in undeath.

Daily life

What are their eating habits? - Forsaken don’t need food or get hunger pangs. However she’s kept a habit of dining roughly once a day - especially if she’s keeping company with the living. And she drinks a lot of water. She’s noticed differences in her physical condition from hydrating.

Do they have any allergies? - The Light.

Describe their home. - She doesn’t really live outside of a barracks long enough to have a proper home. When she’s not in duty rotation at the Tranquillien HQ & they need bed space, she would most likely just set up a tent on the grounds.

Are they minimalist or a clutter hoarder? - Cllllllutteeerrrrrrrrr. Not trash just things she owns. She does her best to stow it away in a steam trunk when she’s away from barracks on assignment so her mess doesn’t get in others’ way.

What do they do first thing on a weekday morning? - She likes to go outside and watch the sky light up. She finds comfort in watching the world come back to life after a long night of trying to distract/occupy herself.

What do they do on a Sunday afternoon? - Could be curled up reading or out fishing - or maybe taking another turn at training her firebat pup. Keeping Ertrig company while he files reports. She has lots of options.

What do they do on a Friday night? - See previous. She doesn’t drink like she did in life. The Forsaken don’t seem to be very big on parties and the blood elves of silvermoon can be insufferable at times. If she’s in a new place on assignment she would spend time exploring until the locals made her uncomfortable.

What is the soft drink of choice? - Moonberry Fizz is her new addiction.

What is their alcoholic drink of choice? - It used to be dark rums.

Miscellaneous

What is their character archetype? - I feel the one she is closest to is The Innocent. The naming of it can be deceptive. But with all her struggles coping with her new state, she made the decision She Was Going To Be Happy. So many undead are understandably upset and depressed but she wasn’t going to waste her 2nd chance on being that way. She is definitely worried about making a miss-step as a Forsaken and she isn’t as suspicious of people as she probably should be - especially considering her job. She tries to see the good in others.

Who is their hero? - She’s rather idol-less at the moment. Coming to “the other side” has shown her uncomfortable truths about people and she’s in doubt about a number of things. Closest thing is probably Erttie? Before they were involved she respected him a great deal.

What or who would your character dress up as for Halloween? - A skeleton. She couldn’t NOT.

Are they comfortable with technology? - She likes learning so she embraces new things.

If they could save one person, who would it be? - The lazy answer is Ertrig but there’s so many people important to her. If we’re counting her entire circle… Rudi would most likely go to Annie’s aid because all the others in her life have extensive training and experience she would be praying paid off.

If they could call one person for help, who would it be? - Ertrig Lasthollow

What is their favourite proverb? - …Like from the bible? While superstitious she wasn’t particularly religious while alive, so no words from the light really speak to her. As forsaken she’s getting curious about The Shadow the more she hears about it around her.

What is their greatest extravagance? - Their fanciest, smanciest possessions are probably her 2 fountain pens. And she shells out for scented oil.

What is their greatest regret? - Her family was sizable so every once in a while it hits her kind of hard that she’s not going to have one of her own now that she’s dead. She also regrets not speaking with her brothers more the last couple of nights before the attack on the Dark Portal.

What is their perception of redemption? - Mmmm… Rudi’s personal quest of ‘redemption’? Now that she is a Forsaken, she is doing her best to serve, support, and protect them in this unlife. She’s ashamed that she was one of the many living that turned their backs on their own people and mistreated the Forsaken.

What would they do if they won the lottery? - Land. House. Goats. Seed. Book shelves. BOOKS. Cheese making press. Can you imagine how long an Undead could age a batch of cheese and live to enjoy it?

What is their favourite fairytale? - Hard to find Azeroth fairy tails so we’ll go with real world. Grim’s Fairy Tales! - https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Story_of_the_Youth_Who_Went_Forth_to_Learn_What_Fear_Was Makes her laugh.

What fairytale do they hate? - She dislikes tales similar to Cinderella. The ‘princess’ does little to shape her own life. Others basically did everything for her and she get’s this supposed happy ending. You only get things when you work for them.

Do they believe in happy endings? - It’s kind of what’s kept her going.

What is their idea of perfect happiness? - Curled up with Erttie, reading a book in the ambiance of a roaring fire in the home on a little farm.

What would they ask a fortune teller? - A MILLION THINGS because she has faith in that kind of thing - especially now? Hello? Living the Unlife? How will the war go? Will her unit survive? Where are her brothers? What happened to her parents?

If your character could travel through time, where would they go? - If she had one shot - she would go home to not long after she left and convince her parents to take a trip.

What sport do they excel at? - Uhhhhhh in life she was REALLY good at drinking games. That takes Constitution. It counts right?

What sport do they suck at? - Jousting and it was a big disappointment for her in life. The gear was so cumbersome she was easily dismounted. The knights look so majestic when they do it!

If they could have a superpower, what would they choose? - To Heal with a touch, without pain, to ALL people.

#Rudiania Evermore #Ertrig Lasthollow #World of Warcraft #Wyrmrest Accord #Forsaken #The Forsaken

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lyraparadigm · 7 years ago

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Nostrum - Troy Otto/OC #7

Chapter 7

Once agian, beta-d by the lovely Sarah

“Troy protects us,” Gretchen nodded, her tone reflecting the assuredness of this belief.

“We can’t rely on the Troys of this world,” Alicia argued, deadpan.

“She’s right,” Arya agreed, “You can’t. There are a lot of people out there that are worse than Troy. You need to know how to defend yourself against them.”

“Worse than Troy?” Alicia scoffed and Arya found her features twisting into a stern frown.

When Arya had entered the bunker, all her expectations of what bible study had to offer flew right out the proverbial window. Music, punch that was 80% vodka and 20% juice, as well as a bong, wasn’t exactly what she had in mind. Then Arya had taken one look at the decapitated Walker head, still groaning, on the coffee table and burst into hysterical laughter. The group had cheered her on as she played catch up and Arya was happy for this distraction. It was exactly what she needed…until Gretchen had brought up Troy.

As Alicia’s contempt for Troy became blatantly apparent, Arya felt something stir in her that compelled her to voice her own opinion of the man. “He has a code – he puts his people first. Men without codes are worse.” Arya’s tone left no room for argument.

Alicia though, too curious to let Arya finish there, probed, “You’ve met worse men?”

A short, humourless laugh left Arya’s lips, “Yes.”

Gretchen leaned closer, urging her to elaborate. Arya’s gaze flitted around the room, her eyes taking note of the boys passed-out on the couch. She blamed alcohol and exhaustion for the feelings of vulnerability surfacing to her usually cold exterior.

“There are men out there that think they can take what they want from you just because they helped you out a little– that you owe them or something – that your body and your affections are a commodity. They don’t call it rape but they hold things over your head: food, safety, weapons…they make it so you’re compelled to give in. You have to ‘contribute’ in some way or another.” Arya’s voice had turned bitter as she struggled to suppress the shiver that clawed up her spine.

Gretchen gasped softly, “Did you– were you– in that group?”

Arya nodded, “For a couple of weeks, yeah. I had my brothers with me though and they were pretty intimidating so, aside from a few leers, no one bothered me…but I saw how other women in the camp were being treated.”

“And?” Gretchen asked, “You put an end to it, right?”

Arya stared diligently at the dirt beneath her finger nails. A rather painful lump had started forming in her throat as she opened her mouth to speak, “We snuck out of the camp, me and my two brothers. They wanted to stay back and fight but I didn’t let them. I said it would work out better for us if we raided the armoury and escaped quietly late at night.”

Heavy silence, seeming even to mute the head’s moans, filled the room for a few long moments until Arya broke it with sardonic laughter, “Karma came to bite me in the ass a month later.”

Alicia raised her eyes to look up at Arya, she hadn’t done so since the start of her story– she’d had a feeling that she knew how it would end - that Arya hadn’t stayed behind to fight. Alicia didn’t think much of Arya; the girl was selfish, surly and frankly a little twisted but Alicia had never stopped to wonder why she was this way because frankly Alicia had enough problems of her own to deal with. But as she heard Arya speak with a low voice that cracked in places, Alica felt somewhat guilty for being so quick to judge.

“When I was travelling on my own,” Arya paused to lick her lips, “I got caught in a trap. The same men from the camp had set it up in the forest to catch deer… instead they caught me.” She chuckled derisively as she tried to mask the fear those memories still brought her. Sucking in a small breath, she continued, “Three of them– they had this gleeful look in their eyes…like they couldn’t wait to get me back to their camp.”

“What happened?” Gretchen whispered, her voice hushed with horror. Her face had paled, as had Alicia’s.

Arya’s eyes were impossibly dark, “I killed them.”

“How?” Gretchen blurted.

Arya shrugged, appearing nonchalant, “Luck. A bit of stupidity on their part and a bit of skill on mine.”

Gretchen seemed to accept Arya’s answer, though she wasn’t sure if it was because her curiosity was satisfied or if it was because Arya scared her. Alicia, however, didn’t buy into Arya’s answer even for a second. Something had happened…something that Arya didn’t want to even think about, much less talk about.

/-/-/

Arya felt somewhat responsible for Alicia as she guided her back to the Clark’s cabin, especially given the girl’s state: both drunk and high, glassy-eyed and giggling randomly. Arya hadn’t really spoken to Alicia before this evening, nor had she given the youngest Clark much thought. There was nothing for her to really go on; Alicia was quiet, choosing to simply follow her Mother’s lead. Arya had been surprised to hear Alicia had killed someone before. The fact that she had found the whole experience as being ’easy’ was also something Arya hadn’t expected. She felt like she could respect the younger girl now.

“Were you always like this?” Alicia sighed as she slumped against Arya’s shoulder.

“Like what?” Arya humoured her as they walked back, Arya supporting most of the Alicia’s weight.

“So cold and selfish. Were you like this before?”

Amusement faded from Arya’s voice as she replied coldly, “I didn’t have the luxury of being coddled by my mom.”

“Please,” Alicia scoffed. “My mom stopped looking after me the second Nick hit puberty and all his drama started.”

Arya’s eyebrows rose at the bitterness in the girl’s tone. “So you’re jealous of Nick? Guess we have more in common than you think,” she muttered under her breath as they approached the Clarks’ cabin. Arya knew exactly what it felt like to be the least preferred child in the household. Opening the door silently, she gestured for Alicia to be quiet so as not to wake Madison. She needn’t have worried- the Clark matriarch was sitting right in the centre of the room with a stern look on her face. Arya saw passed her anger though…she saw weariness and fear. It touched her in a way she hadn’t expected it to.

“She’s fine,” Arya mumbled as Madison approached the both of them in a hurry, taking Alicia off Arya. Both women helped Alicia to her bed and Arya watched pensively as Madison tucked her daughter in.

“Turns out bible studies is more of a weed and vodka party,” Arya shrugged and Madison nodded, “Yeah I got that.”

Awkward silence ensued for a few seconds before Arya mumbled, “Right. Well, goodnight.”

“Arya–” Madison gripped her arm gently, “Thank you for bringing her back, and for everything you’re doing for Luciana.” Madison’s tone was gentle, persuasive almost, but Arya doubted her sincerity. She could tell Madison had reservations about her and she didn’t appreciate the false kindness.

“It’s fine,” she replied in a clipped manner and turned to leave but Alicia’s hiccupped giggle gave her footsteps pause.

“Don’t mind her Mom, she’s just mean because some very bad men did some very bad things to her.”

Arya felt her blood freeze and every bone in her body turn to stone.

“–but don’t worry, she killed them all.”

Arya slammed the door shut as she fled the cabin. The nausea in her stomach lurched to her throat and threatened to make her retch. Flashes of memories ripped through her mind but she fought to suppress them. So engrossed in her torment, she didn’t realise Madison had followed her out.

“Arya!” The older woman gripped her arms, “Arya just breathe, Arya look at me- focus.”

Blood rushed to her head, making her dizzy, and suddenly she noticed how impossible it seemed for her to breathe. Wild eyes cleared to focus on hazel ones until clarity returned to her, until she could feel her pulse calming again. She found comfort in the woman’s words, soothing her, telling her she was safe…that it was okay…that she could talk to her about it. Something in Arya snapped as Madison said that. Recoiling, she slapped her hands away.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she yelled. “Leave me alone!”

“Arya, it’s okay, I can help you. I used to be a guidance councillor before all this. I can help.”

Arya looked at the woman in contempt and snarled, “Every word that comes out of your mouth is a lie. I don’t trust you and your farce of sincerity. You just want to know what my weakness is, so you can manipulate me the way you manipulate Troy!”

“Arya that’s not what–” Madison seemed fraught but Arya stepped back, ignoring her.

“Well I don’t have any weaknesses,” she growled. “I killed them didn’t I? I killed my demons. I let him think he was raping me. I waited until he was in me, till he was vulnerable, and then I bit his ear off.” She had a crazed look in her eyes as she struggled to maintain what little composure she had left. “Then he was the one with fear in his eyes… I strangled him to death and I enjoyed every minute of it. So I don’t need you, Madison, and I don’t need to talk about it because I’m not weak like your children,” she screamed. Her vision blurred from unshead tears as she ran, desperate for the sanctuary her small cabin provided. She needed to feel the cool steel of her daggers. She needed to clutch them to her breast and rock herself to sleep. She needed to feel safe.

~*~*~*~

“So…how’s Luciana?” Troy asked casually as he started up the truck. They had successfully caught the boars that had been breaking into the cabbage fields and were on their way back to the Ranch now.

Nick scoffed as he glared at Troy from the corner of his gaze, “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Alright.” Troy shrugged, “Just wanted to know how she was…adjusting.”

“She��s fine.” Nick rolled his eyes, turning to face the window, hoping that this would be the end of the probing questions. Sadly, it was not.

“How long’ve you two been together?” Troy asked jovially. Upon not receiving a response, he decided to fill the silence himself, “Must not have been long. Alicia and your Mom didn’t know about her so… a few weeks? Maybe a month? I mean, you guys seem pretty close though–”

“Why do you wanna know?” Nick snapped. “Why are we talking? Just drive.”

“I thought we were friends now, Nicky,” Troy replied, mocking Arya’s use of the nickname. “I just wanted to ask because…well, you seemed pretty close with Arya back there.” His tone had bite to it though his face was a picture of nonchalance.

Nick’s brows shot up Troy’s questioning made sense to him now. Suppressing a snort at Troy’s jealous antics, Nick decided to play a little, “I guess.” Nick shrugged aloofly, “Arya’s special, you know? She’s one of those people you can’t help but be drawn to.”

Nick snickered under his breath as he watched Troy’s grip on the steering wheel tighten. Troy’s jaw clenched fiercely as he stewed in silence for the rest of the drive back. Arya was proving to be a more difficult challenge than he had initially presumed her to be. Her growing closeness with Nick and Luciana was hindering any further progress on his part. He understood why she’d want to be friendly with Nick – he had seen a different side to Nick earlier tonight but Arya’s warped sense of responsibility towards Luciana, simply didn’t make sense to Troy. He wasn’t jealous, he decided…he was simply irritated– irritated that Arya had so callously rejected him – the one who brought her to this ranch, the one who had saved her…but she was so ready to accept Nick, who had so traitorously left his own family behind, and Luciana who was all but useless.

Arya was better than that and Troy knew it. He just had to make her see that she was wasting her time with them. He had to make her see that where she truly belonged was by his side. He had thought his little ploy of getting the community to fear Arya would win her over. He thought she’d have asked to join the militia by now; he had bloody well hinted at it enough– but no, Arya hadn’t seemed to have caught the bait. Either that, or she had seen through his manipulations. She would be his perfect companion – his second in command, his partner.

His eyes narrowed in thought as he recollected exactly how she had reacted when he had kissed her. She hadn’t kissed back, no, but she had paused. She hadn’t pulled him in but she hadn’t pushed him away either. In fact, if Troy recalled correctly, at one point Arya had even sighed against his mouth. She had gripped his shirt and had become limp in his arms. He felt aroused just remembering how she felt pressed against him.

Troy hadn’t planned on kissing her. He hadn’t even thought about it…. Well, okay, maybe he had, but he hadn’t seriously considered it until he kissed her jaw the other day…but that, he thought, was only to bring her off that bloody high horse she had been on all day. After all, she had ignored him, pushed him away, screamed and slammed a damn door in his face. Worst of all though, she had called him ‘Cyclops’, in a tone that made him feel like he wasn’t wanted anymore. How dare she make light of him almost losing his eye?! He had seethed for a good hour over that. He had decided to remind her that she found him just as magnetic as he found her. Sure, she’d scream at him, argue, throw things even, but at the end of it all she’d glance at him with that look…the look that meant she understood why he sometimes had to do the shit he had to do. It excited him, made him want to push her buttons, to see what else she was made of and every time he thought he had a read on her - on who she was- she’d do something unexpected. And that reeled him in all over again.

Earlier, when she had so passionately defended him it had been such a goddamn turn on. No-one had done that for him before. No one had been on his side because they genuinely thought he was in the right. How could he resist kissing her after that? She had spoken with such sincerity and it had made his heart lurch with elation. But the moment she had grabbed his face and dug into his cheekbone rather painfully he had realised he’d made a mistake. Even so, he couldn’t bring himself to regret any of it.

She tasted of chaos and bitterness and he wanted to drown in her.

She had stormed off, pissed at him but he hadn’t let that bother him. Not really. Not until he had seen her with Nick on their late-night stroll. And now Nick was complimenting her like he knew who she was. It angered Troy and fueled his need to see her when they got back. He didn’t know what he wanted to say to her but he figured it’d come to him when he saw her. All he knew, he thought as he parked the jeep, was that Nick couldn’t be the last person she touched tonight.

He jogged to her cabin, taking out the spare set of keys he would need to break in. His mind buzzed with all possible scenarios of their encounter tonight. He hoped it’d end in more kissing but he highly doubted that. Then again, watching her shout and throw things at him was a pretty heady experience too so he wouldn’t mind that either.

What he had never, ever expected, however, was to find her curled into a ball on her bed, her body shuddering as she sobbed. She didn’t seem to even realise he had entered. “Arya?” Troy’s features twisting in concern and dismay as he saw her tear-soaked face in the moonlight. “What happened? Arya-”

“GET OUT!” she screamed, her voice laden with pain as it tore through Troy.

“Arya.” His features softened, his eyes wide and round, filled with anguish, as he reached to wipe away her tears.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!!” She tore herself away, hunching in fright with a rabid gleam to her eyes. Troy sucked in a sharp breath at the violent fear he saw in them. A sharp chill crept through him as realisation began to dawn on him. He felt sick to his stomach as his mind raced, figuring out something sick had happened to her. She was hugging herself tightly, her face streaked with tears, her body shaking from crying so hard. How was he supposed to help if she wouldn’t let him touch her? “Tell me what happened, Arya,” he demanded gently, his features hard as he knelt in front of her. He already had an idea but he hoped to God it wasn’t that. The thought of her being touched against her will made his blood boil.

“No, no, no,” she fumbled and grabbed at her sheathed daggers, sending a lamp crashing to the floor in the process. She clutched them tightly to her chest and clenched her eyes shut as she struggled against her memories, trying to claw herself back as they suffocated her. She could still feel his rough hands on her skin, the bitter stench of his breath on her face, the foulness of his lips against hers. ‘Make it stop’, she sobbed, keeling into herself.

Troy ached to help her as he listened to her pleas; he felt powerless and it drove him to desperation. He didn’t know what to do. Every time he tried to touch her, she’d smack his hands away… but he burned with the need to soothe her– to make her feel safe. So he engulfed her writhing body in his arms and refused to let go, even as she scratched and clawed at his face, his arms, his chest. He held on firmly, tightly, pressing his mouth to her ear as he repeated, “You’re safe. I’m here. I won’t let anything happen to you, Arya. You’re safe.”

His scent leaked into her consciousness, flooding her with an unexpected calmness. “I won’t let anything happen to you.” His whispered words cascaded over her and despite not being lucid enough to really hear them, as she gazed into his stormy blue eyes that were ablaze with fury, she believed him.

Accepting his presence and her place in his arms, she slowly wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck. Troy felt like this room and this moment with her was the only part of the world that mattered, that existed. Softly stroking her hair as he continued to hold her tightly, he whispered his promises until they fell asleep: he’d protect her, no matter what.

#troy otto #imagine #ftwd #isaac lahey #one shot #daniel sharman #nostrum #nick clark #madison clark #alicia clark #oc

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doodlegoodness · 7 years ago

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I love being part of something so I’m also filling out the character questionnaire

Full name

Aderyn Tyto

Preferred name/nickname

Ryn

Generally referred to as

Ryn

Appearance.

FACECLAIM: Those pictures of happy barn owls on the internet. All of them. SEX: A lady bird. HEIGHT: Ryn is a whopping 4′8″. WEIGHT: 80 lb. BUILD: Ryn has hollow bones, being a bird and all, but she’s fairly muscular for her kind. The equivalent build of a runner! HAIR: She is covered in Beautiful and Soft feathers, mostly a lighter cream color with dustings of darker brown around her wings and eyes. SKIN: Ryn is SOFT. Ryn is FLUFFY. Ryn has a VERY INTENSIVE FEATHER CARE ROUTINE EYES: Ryn’s eyes are a very gentle deep brown. MOUTH: Ryn’s got a lil’ beak. Good for eating bugs. NOSE: BEAK. HANDS: Ryn’s hands resemble her taloned feet anatomy-wise. Long, thin fingers with well maintained talons at the ends. The insides of her hands are rather soft (squishiness similar to that of a cat’s toe beans), but still show callouses from a life of working, as well as small nicks and scratches closer towards the backs of her hands. FEET: Good ol’ sturdy talons. Heavily textured and calloused on the bottom due to never wearing a show in her life. SCARS: Other than the various small ones on her hands and feet, Ryn has been thankful for healing magic to prevent any other scarring. CLOTHES: A collection of airy layering, so to speak. Other than Ryn’s leather armor (a breastplate and bracers), she has a red cowl, a loose muted green tunic with a long back, a belt around her waist as well as a (dark red/maroon) sash, fitting under her armor, that crosses from her right shoulder down her front, ending at around her knees. And, since skirts/robes are not recommended for flying folk, Ryn also wears very lightweight, brown harem-style pants (it looks like a skirt/robe to anyone not looking too close). OTHER FEATURES: Ryn has very large, very lovely wings. OTHER NOTEABLE FEATURES: Ryn has a necklace with Syranita’s symbol that she visibly wears around her neck- An opal with a lovingly cared for feather pendant dangling just under it.

Speech.

VOICECLAIM: She is a BIRD. ACCENT: Not exaaactly an accent, per say, but Ryn’s voice has just a hint of hollowness to it, similar to that of a woodwind instrument, including the sort of sing-song quality bits depending on the words. VERBAL TICKS: “Whos” can become hoots at times. And every now and then beginnings and ends of words have a sort of chirring sound attached to them. LANGUAGE: Ryn speaks Common and Aarokocra, Aarokocra sounding like a collection of birds chittering away in a tree. ARTICULATION: Ryn is used to the efficiency of being able to say a lot of words in a short amount of time with the way her native tongue works, but she’s a bit clumsier with Common, and at times finds herself using a lot more words to explain something than is actually necessary. EDUCATION: Learning that Common had conjugations was absolutely delighting for Ryn, who prefers to use shorter words as they feel more natural to her than the much longer ones. LAUGHTER: Ryn’s chittering laughter is similar in rhythm to that of wind chimes, but much more airy and prone to long birdy wheezes/hoots. GRUMP: Grumbling manifests in Ryn the longer she goes without a proper rest (usually in Aarakocra), but if she is much more alert she may mumble small comments to herself (in Common) if she is feeling Extra Opinionated about something someone said. BREATHING: Ryn is very prone to sighing, a long, rather whistly sort of sound.

Mannerisms.

FACE: Due to a different facial structure than that of humans, most of Ryn’s expressions are in her eyes. She’s also very easy with smiling, and her resting expression is rather peaceful. HANDS: Ryn will wave her arms around when talking if she’s particularly enthused about the topic. She’ll also use whatever she’s holding at the time to gesticulate with (usually bugs). LEGS/FEET: Ryn will tap a talon or three if she’s feeling rather fidgety. EMOTIONAL OUTBURSTS: If Ryn gets stressed, the chance that she’ll have an emotional outburst rises sharply. As part of her training, Ryn works to maintain a steady but bright sort of energy about her, but abrupt situations and the like can make maintaining that rather difficult for her. HABITS: Ryn is constantly on the lookout for Tasty Snacks, and in open/non crowded areas she’ll twitch and waggle her wings around. POSTURE: Ryn walks rather upright, shoulders back and wings folded and posed just so, but she does this in a way that looks very natural to her, like she’s stood like this all her life. WALKING POSTURE: Ryn is very light on her feet, so she almost looks bouncy when she walks, especially if she’s walking with PURPOSE. SITTING POSTURE: Ryn sits in a format very Proper for an aarakocra. On the ground she’ll sit with her legs folded under her to give her wings some space from the ground. Chairs are a little tricky- backless ones are preferred so she can sit upright with her wings resting behind, but backed chairs means she needs space to pull her wings out closer to her sides without bumping into anyone in close proximity. PERSONAL SPACE: It depends on the physical space available for Ryn. If there is a wide open sky above her, her sense of personal space is much smaller, and she’d happily lean against a friend and such, but in caves and other small spaces she needs as MUCH space for herself as POSSIBLE and will push others away if need be. SPACIAL AWARENESS: Being a bird constantly looking for the next Tasty Snack, Ryn is pretty aware of all things around her. Whether or not she chooses to pay attention to all of these things, however, is another matter. OTHER: Ryn is a rather graceful flier, carrying herself with ease as if the sky is her natural place to be in instead of on the ground.

Health:

DIET: Food is Very Important to Ryn, and she is definitely not a picky eater. She will eat bugs (except for ticks, mosquitos, any bloodsucking thing tbh), seeds, plants, vegetables/fruits, meats, etc.. Basically, if you offer any kind of food to her, she WILL eat it, often with great gusto and many words of thanks. SLEEP: To Ryn, an exhausted bird is often a dead one, so she takes her rest very seriously. She knows that putting non-life-threatening work before rest will only hurt later. EXERCISE: The life of an adventurer is a rather physically active one. ACTIVITY: Ryn is fairly good at maintaining an active lifestyle without pushing herself too hard (unless someone needs her help, that is). CLEANLINESS: Ryn has a VERY INTENSIVE FEATHER CARE ROUTINE. ODOUR: Faint traces of incense from Syranita’s temples, and a hint of dust. MEDICINAL DRUGS: N/A NARCOTICS: Ryn enjoys the occasional alcoholic beverage. ADDICTIONS: N/A ILLNESS: Ryn is a very healthy gal. INJURIES: See above. PARASITES: As a child, Ryn came in contact with some mites, but that has since been treated. OTHER: N/A

Personal.

INTROVERT/EXTROVERT?: Ryn is somewhat extroverted, as she is accustomed to the constant socialization with members of her flock. OPTIMIST/PESSIMIST: Ryn thinks of herself as an optimist, as pessimists “have a hard time making and keeping friends.” GENDER: Lady bird. SEXUALITY: Ryn has had several engagements with several male aarakocra when she still lived with the flock, but she hasn’t given much thought to other species, as she accepted that she probably wouldn’t have time for any pleasantries after she left the flock. ROMANTIC: When she was younger, Ryn considered raising a few owlets of her own one day, but the more she’s learning about the world outside her flock, the more she’s not sure she’ll be ready to introduce a young one to it just yet. MEMORY: Ryn loves to learn, however retaining that knowledge isn’t exactly one of her strong points. Birds, after all, are scatterbrained. PLANNING: Ryn takes a long time to plan, so she often only tries to plan out the Really Important Things to save on time. PENSIVE: Ryn constantly thinks about the world she’s learning about compared to the world she knew growing up with. Also bugs. INTUITION: Ryn tends to have good hunches, but only it’s usually a hit or miss kind of thing. PROBLEM SOLVING: Ryn is GREAT at puzzle boxes and the like, but real world problems take a lot more effort and struggling on her end. GOALS: Ryn wants to help as many as she can while learning about how the non-aarakocra world works as much as she can. INSECURITIES: Even with the go-ahead from Syranita, Ryn still worries that leaving her flock was the wrong choice, and that her not being there will doom them as a whole. ACHIEVEMENTS: Ryn is very proud to have made the decision to leave the flock. ANXIETY: Ryn is simultaneously VERY WORRIED TO HAVE MADE THE DECISION TO LEAVE HER FLOCK OVERWHELMED: Sometimes when trying to find an answer, Ryn will think “hey I can just ask [family member] before being reminded by herself how Far Away she is from them all, and can be stricken with an intense wave of homesickness. SELF-HELP: A few prayers to Syranita can go a long way to soothe Ryn’s nerves. And sharing stories about her home life with others can help ease the pain of being homesick. COMFORTS: Flying, performing Cleric-ey duties, anything she’s grown up doing tbh. BAD HABITS: Ryn is a bird who’s thoughts wander along with her focus, so she’s rather prone to not fully paying attention during some conversations, and can miss certain important details. PHILOSOPHY: Ryn is a devout follower of Syranita and practices her beliefs to the best of her abilities, but will not try to force those beliefs on others (there are So Many gods, so obviously not everyone’s going to fit with just one of them) TRIGGERS: Any time abrupt unified disapproval is presented to her at the mention of something she wants to do rings little panic alarms in her head.

The Past.

PARENTS/GUARDIANS: Ryn’s childhood was very bright, her gentle father and strong mother raised her with love and care. SCHOOL: Ryn did very well in her teachings during any hands-on activity, and she loved learning but retaining information that wasn’t some type of thing she could do was difficult. ADOLESCENCE: Ryn followed in her parents’ footsteps with pride and received lots of support from the whole flock for it. LEAVING HOME: Leaving home is where things got tricky for Ryn. She grew up knowing that she could rely on those of her flock and that they could rely on her, but making that choice to leave shattered that bond she grew up with. Leaving was very difficult, but knowing that they don’t want her back has kept her from trying to return. FURTHER EDUCATION: After completing cleric training and working as one for the flock for a few years, the desire to learn brought Ryn to leave. It’s like a self-driven permanent study abroad kind of thing. FIRST JOB: Before Ryn got to do the “fun” part of cleric work of healing others and aiding anyone and everyone, Ryn cleaned Syranita’s temple. It wasn’t exciting work, but the atmosphere of the place was very soothing to be in, even if you were just sweeping the dust out of the corners. LIFE EVENTS: The first couple of trips to Thundercliff opened Ryn’s eyes up to what lay beyond the flock. She wanted more. WORST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: The flock meeting when she had to declare that she would be leaving Storm Crest. Having to watch the warmth and acceptance from every set of eyes on her vanish is a memory she will carry with her for a long time. BEST DAY OF THEIR LIFE: Her first day as a full-fledged cleric where she got to Really Help everyone around her with Real Problems rests as a bright spot within her memories. LESSONS: Ryn has learned since her first few days away from the flock that kindness and politeness can go a long way, especially if you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing. LOOKING BACK: Ryn would have tried to spend more time with her family in the last days she was home. Maybe that would have convinced them that leaving wasn’t an act of hatred or betrayal on her part.

Relationships.

FAMILY: Ryn’s five siblings and her two parents are all her family. While she was close to the rest of the flock as well, it was seen as a team rather than More Family. FRIENDSHIPS: Ryn DID have a lot of friends back home, but now she considers her traveling companions her current friends. FRIENDS IN NEED: Ryn will leap to help a friend in need at the drop of a hat. She might not always know what to do (as she prefers to do actual things rather than offer words of advice), but gosh darn it she’ll try everything under the sun if it has a chance of helping. NEEDING A FRIEND: Ryn will gladly ask friends for help with completing tasks, but she was so used to turning to her family for advice help that now she prefers to voice her concerns in prayer to Syranita. ANNOYANCES: Ryn will talk things out if the tensions are relatively low. If not, she’ll wait for either her or the other party to calm down before attempting diplomacy again. ROMANCE: Ryn prefers hawk aarakocra with Piercing Eyes. She’ll mostly just chat them up excessively because how else are you supposed to know one another? MARITAL PROBLEMS: Ryn’s go-to strategy is talking something out. Or doing any type of task depending on the problem. ADVERSARIES: Ryn does Not Like a Rude Bird. ENEMIES: Any who would blatantly disregard the precious life of others would quickly find an enemy in a Very Small Bird. STRANGERS: Ryn tries to be respectful and civil to anyone she meets, but due to not knowing about non-aarakocras she may ignorantly break a few social or cultural rules. FUN STUFF: Ryn loves looking for bugs, listening to music performances, and getting food together. DATING: FLYING DATES. BEST FRIEND: Ryn believes in multiple best friends- she can’t pick just one. LOVE: N/A WORST ENEMY: N/A RESPECT: If she can see their point of view (even if she doesn’t agree with it), Ryn can still be respectful.

Interactions.

MINGLING: Ryn’s politeness and open nature allowed her to befriend just about the entirety of Storm Crest, but her naivety with the cultural norms of the other races can cause a few wrinkles in the tapestry of friendship. COMFORT LEVELS: Ryn is very open to talking with others, but if someone responds to her attempts at politeness with being Rude then she will no longer wish to talk to them. PHYSICAL: Ryn is very much not opposed to shoulder-patting friends and allies, as that has proved to be a rather socially acceptable thing. Anything else depends on how long she’s known someone so she can figure out what’s okay and not okay to do. GROUPS: Growing up in a large family has made Ryn very much at ease in larger groups. She loves the liveliness that they bring, as well as the relaxing nature that just one or two other people provide. OPENNESS: Ryn will talk about her family until she’s blue in the face if you let her, but she’s not going to share more than the bare basics of the interworking bits of her flock unless she can trust you 100%. GENEROSITY: Ryn collects so many Tasty Snacks not only for herself but to share with those who need them. Food is energy, so she sees it as a very useful gift that everyone needs. JEALOUSY: Ryn is very accustomed to working as part of a team, so jealousy is not something that would come easily to her. However, on her trips to Thundercliff when she got to talk to a lot of travelers, their stories did tend to leave her wanting. TEMPER: Ryn is an incredibly patient thing as long as she’s not suffering from sleep deprivation. EMPATHY: Ryn is rather empathetic, she may not always know what to do about it when faced with certain situations, but she does her best. AFFECTION: Hunting down one’s favorite food, higher frequency of casual physical contact (hugs, leaning on a shoulder, etc.). DISTASTE: All side mumblings switch to aarakocran (if the distate is with someone not familiar with the language), disinterest in any communication, or straight up verbal confrontation depending on the intensity of the distaste. ETIQUETTE: Ryn strives to be as polite as a bird can be, but lack of knowledge in different social circles can result in a few toes getting stepped on. RESPONSIBILITY: Ryn will absolutely take the blame for something if she knows she’s the one who messed up, especially if it means she’ll learn how to do better next time. SELF ESTEEM: Ryn is very confident in who she is as a person, but mild pushing around doesn’t bother her unless it’s something going against her Moral Code. CONFIDENCE: Ryn IS very confident, but if anyone who knows about The Way that Storm Crest aarakocra are learns that she’s from their, she’ll be very concerned that they’ll think she shares the same views as them. HONESTY: Ryn prefers to be very open and honest with most everyone, but if she’s with someone she trusts that says a small lie/witholds certain information, she’ll play along with it. LEADER OR FOLLOWER: Ryn is comfortable with leading herself and maybe one or two other people, but in a larger group she’d rather follow if she can help it. PARTY TRICKS: Ryn would Most Definitely cast Light on a slew of various objects in a party (after all, who WOULDN’T think drinking out of a glowing goblet wasn’t the coolest thing ever?) PRAISE: Ryn would never turn down a compliment offered with sincerity. FAILURES: Sometimes hunting for bugs might not be AS important as participating in Important Conversations, and also MAYBE in more crowded spaces one shouldn’t waggle their wings around as much. Not many enjoy an eyeball full of feathers (even if they ARE soft). CRITICISM: Ryn views criticism as an opportunity to learn (unless someone is Being Mean about it). INSULTS: Ryn will get rather huffy when being insulted (even puffing up some), but she’ll will allow the person to speak their mind if it means they’ll calm down right afterward. Sometimes you just gotta vent. EMBARRASSMENT: When faced with embarrassment, Ryn gets incredibly fidgety and is usually at a loss for words. If the situation allows for it, she may take to the air for a bit to calm down. FLIRTING: They didn’t teach flirting in Ryn’s cleric teachings, so she doesn’t know a single thing about it (though she may try if she’s feeling Extra Confident or is rather relaxed). ATTENTION SPAN: It’s all a matter of situation on whether or not Ryn can hold her focus. She could either stay tuned in at 100% for the entire day or struggle to pay attention for 10 minutes before her mind starts to drift. SITUATIONS: Ryn grew up learning how to be an excellent listener, but because of that she can have a hard time participating in the conversation after being so used to them being sort of one-sided things.

Life.

CAREER: Serving Syranita and adventuring to help keep ends meet. Sometimes she thinks about settling down somewhere as a simple healer, but she’s happy with what she’s currently doing. PROMOTION: Maybe something with a few less Death Crowns. BOSS: Ryn certainly doesn’t have a bad relationship with her boss, but after the information leak it might be up in the air. DUTY: Making sure everyone doesn’t die is pretty high on Ryn’s responsibility list. TECH: N/A POLITICS: Ryn thinks that the elders of Storm Crest are more than a little stuffy, but she never attempted to make a move to change that. COMBAT SKILLS: Ryn has her trusted quarterstaff, but she prefers non-lethal combat if she can help it. HOME: Ryn THINKS she’s rather tidy, but if she lived in one place for a while it couldn’t be described as anything other than a nest. DAILY LIFE: For the most part Ryn is comfortable with the day-to-day routine, but Big Things can make her a little uncertain. INDEPENDENCE: Ryn CAN handle things by herself just fine, but she enjoys the company. COOKING: Ryn is a fairly adept cook (although non-aarakocra may think differently). BUILDING: Ryn can assemble simple things and is good at following directions. CLEANING: Ryn cleans things to Ryn’s level of cleanliness, which is not enough for a lot of people (but her personal hygiene is Impeccable). SHOPPING: Ryn loves to browse, and she will buy something in a heartbeat if it is small and on the shiny side. DRIVING: N/A FINANCES: Ryn doesn’t spend a lot of her money (just think of all the free food in the ground), so she’s never really felt strapped for coin. Also, because she doesn’t spend much on herself, she’s more than fine with giving money to others if they need it for any reason. MARRIAGE: Ryn has decided she won’t even consider marriage until she retires from her current lifestyle (who has the time for that anyway?) KIDS: Ryn would love to bring up a few owlets if she could (but the world has proven to be scary and she’s not sure that’s the best idea) PETS: A giant lizard has DEFINITELY been on this bird’s mind. DEPENDANTS: Ryn was forced to cut all ties with her family upon leaving, so no. LAW: Leaving the flock has been the only time she acted out against the law of Storm Crest. COURT: No. PRISON: No. TRAVELLING: Ryn wants to see as much of everything that she can. MEDICAL: Most wounds Ryn can handle herself, but she is not opposed to finding a more skilled healer if she needs to. ILLNESS: N/A (unless you count her claustrophobia) WORRIES: The homesickness is a little worse when you’re trying to sleep without the soft murmurs of others, or the peaceful whistling breathing of her sister. PEACE: Ryn loves the liveliness that comes with groups of people, but when it comes to Syranita Time she prefers peace. PARTYING: Ryn will gladly go to a celebration if invited, but she is also more than content with staying in. HOBBIES: Ryn loves to fly around and explore, as well as read and socialize with her friends.

#Breaking Light #Breaking Light Campaign #Hooo boy this took a while #But! It made me think about Ryn from a bunch of different angles so it was worth it

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brokehorrorfan · 7 years ago

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Best New Horror Movies on Netflix: Summer 2017

I know there's an overwhelming amount of horror movies to sift through on Netflix, so I've decided to take out some of the legwork by compiling a list of the season's best new genre titles on Netflix's instant streaming service.

Please feel free to leave a comment with any I may have missed and share your thoughts on any of the films you watch. You can also peruse past installments of Best New Horror Moves on Netflix for more suggestions.

1. Clown

Before Spider-Man: Homecoming swings into theaters, watch director Jon Watts' feature debut. Beginning as a faux-trailer that went viral, Clown was essentially willed into existence with the aid of genre favorite Eli Roth (Hostel, Cabin Fever) as a producer. Andy Powers (Oz) stars as a dad who comes across an old clown costume to wear to his son's birthday party, only to find that he physically cannot remove it. He then develops an insatiable hunger for children, soon learning that he must sacrifice five kids in order to remove the suit. Laura Allen (The 4400) plays his wife, while Peter Stormare (Fargo) provides the ancient, demonic history of clowns. Not your typical killer clown movie, Clown combines classic monster movie motifs, body horror elements, supernatural undertones, and gallows humor into one coulrophobic package. Read my full review of the film here.

2. Beyond the Gates

Beyond the Gates was clearly made by horror fans for fellow fans. The 80-minute romp can best be described as Jumanji meets The Beyond. Estranged brothers Gordon (Graham Skipper, Almost Human) and John (Chase Williamson, John Dies at the End), along with Gordon’s girlfriend, Margot (Brea Grant, Halloween II), find and play an old VCR game. They must obey the tape’s host (Barbara Crampton, Re-Animator) in order to solve the mystery of their father's disappearance. It's slightly hindered by a limited budget - the set-up is slow and the ending is a tad anticlimactic - but it's so spirited along the way that the faults barely register. First-time director Jackson Stewart taps into the VHS nostalgia to create a film that would feel perfectly at home on a mom-and-pop video store shelf in the late '80s. Read my full review of the film here.

3. The Eyes of My Mother

The Eyes of My Mother is too pensive for horror fans look for typical blood and scares, but those who appreciate arthouse fare are likely to get wrapped up in its unsettling tone. Writer/director Nicolas Pesce makes an impact with his debut, utilizing stark black-and-white photography to explore a character study illustrating the repercussions of murder. The story is told in three chapters, which each one showing a significant familial moment in a woman's life that shapes her into the disturbed individual she ultimately becomes. It’s a slow burn, even at a mere 76 minutess, but every moment is spent ruminating in its dark tone.

4. Backcountry

Backcountry is based on a true story of a black bear attack. The predator doesn't show up until two thirds of the way through the film; the rest of the time is spent developing the relationship between Alex (Jeff Roop) and Jenn (Missy Peregrym, Reaper), who embark on what's supposed to be a romantic and relaxing weekend hike through the woods. Tensions first rise upon the introduction of an Irish backpacker (Eric Balfour, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre), then again when the couple gets lost in the dizzying forest. It finally takes the form of a suspenseful survival thriller when the ferocious bear begins attacking their campsite. The investment in character development is worthwhile, as it causes the viewer to care about them, thereby making the final act even more harrowing. Real bears were used during production, adding to the ripe intensity.

5. Dig Two Graves

The first act of Dig Two Graves could be mistaken for a coming-of-age drama - not only thematically but also stylistically - as a young girl (Samantha Isler, Captain Fantastic) from a podunk town attempts to reconcile with her brother's death. Things really heat up when a trio of creepy men tell her they can bring him back to life... but someone else has to take his place. The story is structured in an interesting way, sprinkling in flashbacks that contextualize the actions taking place in the present. Isler delivers a brilliant performance, as does Ted Levine (The Silence of the Lambs), who plays her grandfather, the town's sheriff.

6. XX

XX is a horror anthology made up of four segments written and directed by females, each one strong and unique. “The Box” by Jovanka Vuckovic adapts a Jack Ketchum short story about a boy who's forever changed upon seeing the contents of a mysterious box. “The Birthday Party” by Annie Clark (better known as musician St. Vincent) is a darkly comic tale about a woman who finds her husband dead on the day of her daughter's birthday party. “Don’t Fall” by Roxanne Benjamin (Southbound) turns a serene hike into a blood-thirsty creature feature. “Her Only Living Son” by Karyn Kusama (The Invitation) finds a mother learning a deep, dark secret about her son. There's not much of a through line outside of them all being female-led (3/4 of which are maternal roles), though neat stop-motion animation wraps around the tales. Several familiar faces populate the cast, including Melanie Lynskey (Heavenly Creatures), Natalie Brown (The Strain), and Mike Doyle (Law & Order: Special Victims Unit). It's no secret that we need more female voices in film, and XX is a potent declaration that's impossible to ignore.

7. Stake Land II: The Stakelander

Despite a terrible title that could be mistaken for a joke, Stake Land II: The Stakelander is a sequel to Stake Land, Jim Mickle's impressive 2010 vampire film (which you should watch first; it's also on Netflix). Mickle resigns to executive producer, but his co-writer, Nick Damici, returns to pen the script. Damici also reprises his role as Mister, reuniting with Connor Paolo as Martin. The vampire slaying duo embark on a journey across a Mad Max 2-style post-apocalyptic wasteland infested with ferocious vampires, which resemble zombies more than your traditional bloodsuckers. As is often the case, it's the other humans that prove to be the real threat. Like its predecessor, the film finds a rare balance between drama and intensity. It's not as effective as the original, but fans won't be disappointed by the follow-up.

8. Tag

Tag (also known as Riaru onigokko) is not for everyone, but it's too gleefully weird not to warrant a recommendation. Written and directed by Sion Sono (Suicide Club), the Japanese film opens with a bus full of school girls getting sliced in half in one fell swoop. It only gets stranger from there as the infinite possibilities of multiple universes are explored. One girl survives each time, continually awakening in different realities after watching all her friends get killed in gory fashions - including a teacher mowing down her class with a mini-gun. I thought it might be adapted from a manga, as it has that bizarre, fantastical feel to it, but it's instead based on a novel. It's dreamlike and absurd but not without heart.

9. The Windmill

The Windmill (formerly known as The Windmill Massacre) is a slasher film from the Netherlands, although it's (mostly) in English. It follows a guided bus tour of Holland that breaks down near a mysterious windmill. One by one, the passengers are picked off by a cool-looking killer armed with a scythe. With glossy production value and a dark tone, it feels more like a throwback to late '90s slashers rather than the golden age of the '80s - but there's still some solid gore and practical effects. It doesn't reinvent the wheel, but the film offers a slightly more involved plot than the average slasher, including flawed characters and supernatural elements. It's also gleefully mean-spirited to the very end.

10. Man Vs.

As you may have guessed from the name, Man Vs. uses a survival reality show as the framing device for a creature feature. Doug (Chris Diamantopoulos, Silicon Valley) is the survival expert/host, filming himself in the Canadian wilderness - only to learn that he's not alone. It would have been cheaper to make a found footage film, but it's more effect as a traditional movie - though there are some shots from Doug's gear. The set-up is a bit slow, however you may learn some survival tips along the way. The story essentially becomes Survivorman vs. Predator in the final act. Unfortunately, the CGI creature is Syfy-level bad, preventing the big reveal from having much impact, but Diamantopoulos delivers a solid performance nonetheless.

11. Abattoir

Abattoir is directed by Darren Lynn Bousman (Saw II-IV, Repo! The Genetic Opera), based on the same named graphic novel he created. It follows a real estate journalist (Jessica Lowndes, 90210) and a detective (Joe Anderson, The Crazies) as they investigate a series of houses in which tragedies occurred having the offending rooms torn out. They end up in a Twin Peaks-esque town where a local (Lin Shaye, Insidious) tells them of Jebediah Crone (Dayton Callie, Sons of Anarchy), an enigmatic reverend attempting to build a gateway to pure evil. Although set in the present, the picture is an unabashed love letter to film noirs of the 1940s and ‘50s. While the execution of the fascinating concept is lacking, Bousman manages to create a wonderfully imaginative neo-noir universe rife with spooky atmosphere. Read my full review here.

Bonus: The Keepers

If you were among the throngs of viewers morbidly captivated by Making a Murderer, The Keepers will be your new true crime fix. The Netflix original documentary series is every bit as compelling and frustrating as Making a Murderer, but the heinous crimes are even more stomach churning. The story revolves around an unsolved murder case of 26-year-old nun in 1969 and her then-students who have teamed up decades later to try to get to the truth. There appears to be a cover up that involves sexual abuse at the hands of a priest. The show consists of seven hour-long episodes. It probably could have been shaved down to five, but it's structured in such a way that make you want to keep binge watching.

Bonus: Riverdale: Season 1

Riverdale is like Twin Peaks meets Pretty Little Liars by way of Archie Comics. It reinvents the classic Archie characters for a modern audience with an interesting murder/mystery plot. I'm admittedly beyond the key demographic for the trashy teen drama that ensues, but the first season is fun enough, albeit inconsistent, to hook me. Several of the younger actors deliver great performances, given the heavy-handed material, but it's even more fun to see the parents played by '90s stars like Luke Perry (Beverly Hills, 90210), Mädchen Amick (Twin Peaks), Robin Givens (Head of the Class), and Skeet Ulrich (Scream). If you enjoy MTV's Scream, you'll likely get a kick out of this one as well.

#netflix #beyond the gates #riverdale #the keepers #the eyes of my mother #best of netflix #list #review #article

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it-ya-bean · 7 years ago

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NICK NOCTURNE’S SPOOKTACULAR CEREAL SERIAL FEATURING NYX FEARS, PART 1 OF WHATEVER

Starring @nyxfears and @nick-nocturn

apologies to nyxfears and nick-nocturn

Remington Rendalton, spoopy skellington extraordinaire, was not having a great time. His friend(?) Nyx had suddenly stumbled out of the room after getting a call on his gaudy dragon-shaped phone, and Remington's immobility had prevented him from doing anything but listening to the footsteps clomping down the hall and out of the house. Nyx had gabbled some incoherent explanation of his sudden exit, but Remington barely had tried to listen---he was getting used to this kind of nonsense. Just once he'd like to enjoy a quiet day without silly things happening.

As he reflected on the consistent ridiculousness of his unlife, he heard (with his un-ears?) the back door open. Either Nyx was tromping inside or the house was being invaded by a particularly leadfooted draft horse. The former was proven to be the case as the horror aficionado backed through the door into his preferred filming room. "Remington, golly, there's a---there's a thing!"

"WHAT", the skeleman asked tiredly, "WHAT IS IT, IS IT THE GUY WHOSE NAME WE CAN'T SAY."

Nyx closed the door, looking over his shoulder at Remington. "Guy whose name we can't---who?"

"YOU KNOW", Remington groaned, "THE---I CAN'T SAY HIS NAME OR BAD THINGS WILL HAPPEN PROBABLY, I THINK."

The skellydude was surprised by a chocolatey-smooth voice coming from Nyx's currently unseen front. "You mean the Peepee Poopoo Man?"

Eyes lighting up in surprise (or probably because he was talking and they always lit up when he spoke), Remington balked. "WHO SAID THAT. NYX IS THERE A TALKING FACE IN YOUR CHEST. AGAIN."

Turning around, the spook-enthusiast revealed he had a bag strapped around his front which one might use to carry an infant---or, in this case, a cat. "That was one time! Probably! Anyway, I just had to pick up Nick."

"WHAT"

Opening his upper pair of eyes, Nick Nocturne wiggled in his snug kitty-carrier. "There is a crisis, Mr. Skeleton Man. A crisis in cereal-land."

"WHAT"

Nyx held up a box he had totally had with him the entire time, I swear. "Look, Remington, just look!"

Sighing, Remington moved only and specifically his jaw. "I CAN'T TURN MY HEAD. YOU KNOW THIS." As Nyx came around to show him the box, he was nonplussed and also a talking skeleton decoration man. "ISN'T IT JUST A BOX OF THAT CRAPPY VAMPIRE CHOCOLATE CEREAL. WHAT'S THE BIG DEAL."

"First of all, how dare you." Nyx shook the box with a sugary rustle. "Don't talk shit 'bout my man Chocula. Secondly, speaking of the Count, he's not on the box any more! It wasn't like this yesterday!"

"OH", Remington remarked, "I GUESS THAT'S PRETTY WEIRD. WHY IS THIS A CRISIS THOUGH."

"Clearly," Nick squirmed more in his kitty-carrier, "he---Nyx, buddy, get me out of this thing---he's in some sort of trouble in cereal-land. If the Count is out of commission, other spooky breakfast mascots are surely in danger if not already being attacked! Boo Berry, Frankenberry, Yummy Mummy, Fruit Brute---just think of what we'd lose if the whole crew were removed from the world!"

"DID YOU MAKE THE LAST ONE UP. I THINK YOU MADE THE LAST ONE UP." Remington went unanswered as Nick continued to wriggle.

"Nyx, why aren't you unfastening the carrier?" He frowned up at his mortal friend.

Nyx pensively fingered one of the velcro straps holding the thing closed. "Because I feel more secure with you like this."

"I know, bud." Nick sighed as his companion reluctantly undid the carrier and let him out. He dropped with all six paws onto the floor, stretching and beginning to preen his glossy fur. "Man, I was cramping up in there---I know this is a tough time for you, but I can't help you very well if I'm trussed up like a tiny baby. This is way worse than this whole Bye Bye Man thing---ah, hell." He winced as he realized his mistake.

<<BYE BYE MAN>> thundered the directionless voice for no reason and to no great consequence.

"Aaaaa!" Nyx yelped in surprise, hiding behind his table. Again, he stated with less enthusiasm, "Aaa."

Nick shook his head, then dispersed into a vague cloud of inky vapor that reshaped itself into a humanoid size and frame, coalescing into a cat-man with all four shirtsleeves rolled and a snazzy waistcoat. "Aaaaaa indeed, but not because of the B---the Peepee Poopoo Man. No, this is a culinary catastrophe on a planetary scale."

"WHY IS THIS A BIG DEAL AGAIN," asked Remington, adding "I MEAN AREN'T ALL THOSE CEREALS NOT THAT GOOD."

"It's the principle of the thing, dammit!" Nyx slammed his fist on his table and instantly regretted it, wincing as a tacky plastic skull-goblet rattled. "Ow, why, ow. Seriously, it's a big deal, I mean---Nick no."

"What," Nick glanced up with his upper pair of eyes, the lower set still on the skull-goblet his paw was gently pushing toward the edge of the table. "Don't do---oh, wow, I did do that." The vessel hit the floor with a hollow plasticky doonk. "Sorry."

"SOOOOOOOOOOOO." Remington broke the silence. "ARE YOU GUYS GOING TO CEREAL-LAND OR."

Nyx put the goblet back, farther from Nick this time. "What? Oh, yeah, probably. Dinner first, though."

"Yeah, I can't deal with this on an empty stomach, and I haven't eaten since this morning's Fancy Feast," Nick said as he adjusted his tie.

"WHAT"

~END OF PARTE UNO~

#nick nocturne fanfiction #spoopycat adventures #i should be sorry but i'm too sinful to be sorry

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fenvincible · 8 years ago

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In too Deep Chapter 4

I wrote this for y’all instead of my research paper which is due in the AM. So.. I love you all and I pray you like it.

This chapter is still SFW. This is dreadfully slowburn, I am so sorry sweeties. But I have started the NSFW and I know when it’s happening (not soon). The payoff will be worth it. in the meantime have some Nick/Jude interaction.

Nick felt the entire situation was too surreal for words. Judy had left him upstairs, alone with the shrew who seemed to have few words but was more than willing to size Nick up. The fox suddenly felt unsure of his outfit, wondering if instead of “guy in need of a drink” it screamed “cop”. His inner monologue was cut short by a petite otter entering the room. The otter made a nervous beeline for the Boss, Mr. Big, and frantically whispered in his ear. Nick’s hearing, like every predatory animal, is slightly above average but the deep voices of the conversion polar bears and the band warming up downstairs provided just enough back ground noise that he couldn’t understand the otter’s words. He did understand the deepening scowl on Big’s face.

“… drug.” Was the last word Nick was able to make out before the shrew began speaking quickly and fiercely back to the otter. Within moments the otter was scampering out of the room, Nick unsure of what fire Big lit under his ass.

“Nicky, can I call you Nicky? Nicky, you’re an honest mammal, right? I can count on you; you look like an honest mammal.” Big said, twirling a microscopic gold ring around a just as small finger.

Nick was about to answer when Judy stepped onto the stage, a collective hush covered the crowd. The foxes mind went blank as he took it all in. From the room, upstairs he has a perfect view of the entire bar, he could see Weasleton dishing out drinks, patrons walking around and Judy. The stage was centered perfectly so the upstairs room got the best view of performances.

And what a view they were getting now. Judy had changed between now and when she left the fox upstairs. She now wore tight black jeans, that clung to her in all the right areas and emphasized her assets. In a decision that made Nick’s fur rise she was showing her midriff and wearing only a green bustier that brought out the purple in her eyes. Barepawed the bunny looked irresistible, Nick wanted to devour her.

With a knowing look around and a sly smile Judy grabbed the microphone, walked to the edge of the stage and sat down.

“Y’all know I love ya, right?” Judy began her voice flirtatious and full of promise. She waited a moment for the crowd to nod. A few mammals cheered, or shouted their praise for the bunny before she continued.

“Good, I just wanted to make sure. I have something special for you tonight. It’s a song that I have never performed here before. It’s a song that means a lot to me. Would that be alright with y’all?” More cheers, and praise were heard as Nick watched several glasses go up in salute. Nick found himself thinking about charismatic Judy is, how she knows to work a crowd.

When I was just a small kit

Daddy whispered in my ear

He said, baby you’re a lady and don’t ever act a fool

Baby you’re a lady don’t let those men make you a fool

Nick watched as mammal after mammal shifted forward in their seat, leaning into the sound of Judy’s voice, eyes captivated by the slow dance she made across the stage as she sang. The lyrics danced in and out of Nick’s ears.

But daddy didn’t count on his little girl falling in love

Daddy didn’t count on a young man sweeping through town

he tore through the streets breaking everything in sight

I couldn’t help myself try as I might

Judy’s body moved effortlessly. She dipped and twirled, dancing with an invisible partner. Unlike the last performance Nick had seen this one felt intimate, a lot less like a teasing lap dance and a lot more like a waltz. Judy’s voice wavered a moment before beginning the next lines:

Swept up in a courtship that burned like fire

I thought I could tame the flame

Instead I was burned

Instead I was consumed

Judy stopped dancing, she settled in the middle of the stage. A soft, almost tangible silence covered the audience. The silence continued for one beat, two beats. Suddenly, in a swift action that startled the mammals in the bar Judy fell to her knees.

That young man left ashes in his wake

he trailed destruction as he moved

I didn’t follow daddy’s rules

I let him make me a fool.

For a moment, the entire bar was plunged into a deep darkness. The lights returned before Nick could question it. The stage was empty and nobody moved for a moment as Judy’s strange, emotional performance sank in.

“That girl,” Big started “that girl can really perform. I lucked into her you know? Beautiful girl like that unable to find a job. I couldn’t believe it.”

“She is… something else.” Nick thought, pensively. Judy’s performance had left him covered in goosebumps and a cold sweat.

“What are you really doing here Nicky? And don’t try to feed me some lie.” The shrew gave Nick a long side glance as he accepted a drink from a passing polar bear.

“I’m- looking for something.” Nick replied after a moment knowing he couldn’t tell the whole truth but not wanting to lie. He’s not a great liar, but he is a good hustler when he needs to be. “I’m looking for something exciting and fun. I am looking for something primal.”

If Nick was about to learn something important, make a break in his case, the information was stolen as the otter from before entered the room again. A look of concern, maybe fear, lacing the features of his face. As he approached Big the nervous mammal removed his glasses, clumsily cleaned them with his shirt and placed them back on his face. Nick watched as the otter whispered to Big in that hurried, anxious fashion he has used earlier. As the otter spoke a range of emotions crossed the shrews face, with a snap of his fingers Big summoned two large bears.

“I’m sorry Nicky.” Big stated “business is calling me away. I do hope to see you again though. You seem- interesting.” The way Big spoke made Nick slightly nervous as he gave a small wave to the shrew as he departed.

Lucky for Nick, Judy was entering as Big left. The bunny had changed again, she was now wearing light blue jeans, and a black top with a little pink jacket thrown over it. Nick found himself wondering if the bunny owned any cloths that didn’t make his pants feel one size too small.

“You hungry sly?” Judy asks, her voice still lyrical though not the same seductive, lusty sound it had been earlier.

“I-“ the refusal stopped short on Nicks’ snout. Yeah, he needed to debrief Clawhauser and he should start typing his weekly report for Bogo so it looked like he at least valued his job. There were honest reasons he needed to leave but he just didn’t want to. He wanted to stay and talk to this purple eyed bunny that set his world slightly askew in ways he didn’t yet understand, so he did. “Yeah, I’m hungry.”

“Follow me, I know a spot.” Judy said with a smile.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The place Judy was referring too was a small mom and pop diner about two blocks down from the club. Nick had walked by it before on his way to the bar. It was unassuming in that normal diner way. A long countertop with aging barstools, an atrocious shade of red, ran about the length of the building. Booths and tables, all the same red shade, were almost haphazardly thrown around the rest of the space. A jukebox sat at the back of the shop by the restrooms, a popular song playing in the background.

“This is the best place to get a veggieburger. They also serve ‘meat’ options if you want anything.” Judy said, sliding into a well-worn booth. Nick slid into the seat across from her.

Nick was trying to find the best way to question the bunny and see what she might know without giving her a reason to suspect he had been less than honest with her. He was still thinking it over when the waitress came over to them. A young racoon, Cynthia, took their orders in-between loudly popping large bubbles with the gum she was chewing.

“So-“

“Please don’t ask me anything about work.” Judy interrupted, holding up a paw. “I just want to pretend I don’t sing at a bar and that maybe we’re friends?”

Nick was stunned for a moment before offering a nod. The waitress, Cynthia, chose this moment to bring them their drinks. A carrot cake milkshake for Judy and a blueberry milkshake for Nick.

“Okay, so nothing work related. What would you like to talk about then?” Nick asks, watching Judy’s eyes close in something close to ecstasy as she takes the first sip of her drink.

“I’m- not actually sure. Things are easier at the club when I’m this whole different bunny. Amethyst knows what to say and when to say it. I’m just Judy.”

“I think just Judy is okay. What does Judy like?” Nick offers Judy a small smile, trying to coax her out of her shell more. He wants, needs, to know more about the bunny that so confidently asked him to dinner before becoming something entirely different.

“Books, I like to read. I enjoy studying, ya know?” Judy distractedly plays with her straw as she looks at a spot on the wall behind Nick’s head. “What about you slick?”

“Books? Yes, I do enjoy a good book occasionally. I like the books cowritten by that Savage guy. The bunny that does all the secret agent stuff. I know they’re still fictional but it’s so fun to think about.” Nick wasn’t lying either. Some nights when training got hard and he was beaten down by the stereotypes surrounding foxes he would lose himself in a Savage novel and remember why he had wanted to be a cop. “Studying is much worse for me, I think. I hate being forced to read and understand something. I want to read because I enjoy it.”

“You read Savage?” Judy said with a laugh. “Those books are so full of baloney! He always beats the bad guy and beds the poor bunny who won’t hear from him the next day. The guy is an absolute jerk.”

“But you read the books, don’t you?” Nick asked with a smirk.

There was a small break in the conversation as Cynthia brought their food to the table. A veggieburger with fries for Judy and crepes with blueberries for Nick. They begin eating in silence for a moment before Nick adds:

“I like volunteering. I, uh- I host a Junior Ranger Scouts troop on the weekend. It’s one that is made only of predators. It was hard to get approved at first but, I think it’s good for the kids you know? We get together twice a month with other troops and it’s been good for the pred/prey relations.” Nick pushed a blueberry around his plate as he spoke. The troop had been hard to get approved, but the year and a half of struggling for the right to make his troop was worth it when they all got together. It made for a more positive experience than Nick’s had been. He repressed a shudder as he recalled the cold bite of a leather muzzle around his snout.

“Really?” Judy looked to Nick. “That is the most amazing thing I have heard all day, maybe all year.”

Another moment passed between the two mammals before Judy spoke up, her voice a whisper.

“I don’t even know your name. I say we should talk like friends and leave work behind and I’ve been referring to you as sly for the last hour.”

“Piberius Wilde. I usually just go by Wilde though. It’s easier than Piberius, it also sounds nicer.” Though guilt laced through Nick’s body he extended a paw across the table to Judy who hesitated only a moment before placing her own in it.

“Judy. Well, Judith. Judith Laverne Hopps.” She smiles, it’s a bright true smile and Nick finds that he sincerely likes it.

“Well, Judy, it’s nice to finally make your acquaintance.” Nick smiles at her as he gets back to work on his crepes.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner ended quickly, almost too quickly for Nick. The conversation had started to flow more freely and openly. They even stayed for dessert and coffee. Still, the diner was closing and it was getting late. A desk full of work was beckoning to Nick and it was getting harder and harder to ignore his responsibilities.

Unable to call it a night just yet Nick offered to walk Judy home.

“It’s the least I can do.” The red fox states as they neared Judy’s apartment building.

“Still- I just.. thank you.” Judy said as she walked up the steps to her building. “this was nice of you. You would think that I make a lot of friends singing at a kind of popular night club but. I don’t. This, dinner and conversation, meant a lot to me. So, thank you.”

With a small smile and a half wave Judy turned and entered her building. Nick stood on the sidewalk a few extra moments, watching her go. The night air was crisp and warm feeling more like summer than spring. As the door latched and silence settled over the street Nick turned from the building with a smile on his face.

This case wasn’t nearly as bad as he had thought it would be.

#wildehopps #in too deep #fee writes

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hellomissmabel · 8 years ago

Text

“Bubblegum pink really ain’t my colour, doll”

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Warnings: FLUFFY

Word count: 3.634

Summary & A/N: It’s originally based on an idea I got from @hymnofthevalkyries but then I saw this prompt and it actually comes pretty close to what I had in mind. I also took the liberty to use the four prompts (in bold) provided by @the-vigilante who requested a fluffy Bucky x reader. Here you go hun ❤

When I look at pictures of when I was younger, I barely even recognise the girl in them. I was such a sickly child, with long white hair, light grey eyes and a translucent skin. That girl is long gone and has been replaced by a grown-up woman with rainbow coloured hair and a hard to pin down eye colour. Born with a mutation that allows me to switch from one colour to another depending on my mood, I caught the eye of Nick Fury and was recruited by the Avengers shortly after he found out about my other ability.

I’m not a kick-ass assassin like Natasha Romanova or a super soldier like Steve Rogers, but I do know this pretty neat trick that certainly comes in handy during interrogations. You see, I know fairly quickly when you’re lying to me and when you’re telling the truth. I’m basically a human lie detector and it annoys the hell out of Sam but hey, I can’t help it that I was born this awesome!

Other than that, things are pretty fly at the Avenger’s compound. Like I already mentioned, I was born with white hair, associated with light, goodness, innocence and purity. I mostly return to my original shade when I’m either sleeping, not paying a lot of attention (and Steve always scolds me for it, bummer!) or just very concentrated on something.

My eyes usually have this silver glow about them, yet their hue changes into the same colour as my hair given how I’m feeling at the moment. For example, when I’m excited I look like a rogue canary with amber eyes and Sam just can’t resist the urge to tease me about it because he thinks yellow is such a shitty colour.

Whenever I’m running about the lab, conducting experiments with Tony and Bruce, it’s always a soft olive green. It symbolises peace and safety which is only fitting as the lab is the first place I go to when things get a little too much to handle. It’s not easy adjusting to a life away from my family and friends and I get overwhelmed pretty fast when I sense someone’s not being completely honest with me which, frankly, happens quite a lot – you would be surprised at the amount of white lies that are told around the compound!

Fortunately everyone understands and they leave me be until my true colours resurface, indicating it’s time to get out of hiding again. Slowly but surely the green will translate into a paler shade of blue, linked to depth and stability as well as loyalty and wisdom. It’s the exact same reason why my hair and eyes take on a dark blue hue when I’m around Steve, the personification of knowledge and integrity.

I try to keep my Nymphadora Tonks game strong when I’m at the base but prefer to keep a low profile when walking the streets. Having this particular mutation can get me in quite a lot of trouble when I’m out there in the field and I used to wear a wig every time the team went out on another assignment. But wigs are itchy and I just don’t feel like myself whenever I wear one.

So I spent countless nights trying to figure out how to control my biggest problem, my unruly hair, which means control my emotions until the intensity would subside into a more neutral colour like, say, black. Black, connected to power, elegance and mystery. Exactly my cup of tea.

On other days however I’m fuming with rage, like that one time when one of Tony’s conceited new interns called me a fat, brainless and immature bimbo. My hair almost caught fire by the angry red shade it turned into, my eyes a violent shade of black pushing back my natural light grey irises.

Such situations quickly subside and I usually find myself into a transitional state for a couple of days, orange indicating the shift between passionate red and cheerful yellow. When the emotional storm inside of me blows over and I’ve cooled down a bit, I find myself staring at a brown-eyed brunet in the mirror, brown equalling stability of mind.

Although the colour spectrum is very wide and I’m basically a hot mess, there’s one colour I’ve never exhibited before. That is, until the day Bucky Barnes walked into my life and I surprised everyone, including myself, with just how much I instantly took a liking to him.

“Avengers assemble!,” Tony declares loudly as he steps inside the common area, followed closely by Bruce.

“Stop stealing Steve’s lines, Tony. It’s hardly original,” Nat calls out from on the couch where she’s snuggled up to Clint.

Tony sends her a dirty look. “Well, I’m sure Capsicle doesn’t mind. Besides, it’s not like he’s taken a patent on it or something,” he snaps back with his usual amount of sass and sarcasm. “Now, what I wanted to talk to you about. We’ve got a new guest, Steve decided it’s time for the Winter Soldier aka his brother from another mother to move in with us. They’re down the hall, waiting for my signal.”

“You mean THE Winter Soldier? As in, sergeant James Buchanan Barnes?,” you gasp in excitement, your brain going into overdrive as you try to assess this new and exciting information. You’ve heard countless rumours about the Winter Soldier but that didn’t stop you from hacking into the security system and reading up on his more personal files. Based on what you’ve gathered so far, James Barnes is a man of outstanding character and a born leader who you have been dying to meet ever since he resurfaced again.

“That’s just bloody brilliant,” you exclaim while nudging Wanda’s side who just rolls her eyes at your child-like enthusiasm. Well, it’s not every day you get to meet the man you’ve heard Steve gush about so many times in the past.

Yet nothing could have prepared you for this, your mouth dropping open at the sight of the metal-armed soldier walking next to Steve as they enter the living room area. He’s dressed casually in black slacks and a red Henley, showcasing a generous amount of muscle and you gulp audibly at the inappropriate thoughts screaming for your attention. You know Thor is a God but damn, if Thor is a God then what the fuck does that make Bucky Barnes?

“Oh fuck me already,” you mutter under your breath. You were so caught up in your thoughts you didn’t notice the team staring at you, collectively amused and grinning like complete fools.

“I believe that can be arranged,” Sam replies in a sing-song voice.

“You’re seriously like a man-child,” you retort instantly.

“And you’re Satan,” Sam hisses through his teeth.

“Did you just hiss at me?,” you huff in disdain. “What?,” you try again, getting angry at their obstinate silence, addressing the crowd gathered around you only to be met with a fit of giggles once more.

“Y/N, your hair,” Natasha chuckles whilst pointing at you with mischievous eyes, “It’s pink, like cotton candy pink. It’s never been pink before.” She gives you a knowing smile and her remark was met by a series of oh’s and ah’s from other team members and even a snort from Clint.

Pink, the colour of romance and femininity. As if it’s not bad enough that your cheeks are already flaring up with the heat running through your system, sending colour rising from your neck all the way up to the tips of your ears.

“The colour of looooooooooove,” Sam chimes in and Steve playfully jabs him in the side, Sam retaliating instantly and swatting back at him.

“Oh, look, her eyes are beginning to turn pink too!,” Tony exclaims, clutching his chest as a bouldering laugh escapes his lips.

“Guys, guys, shut it! Can’t you see you’re embarrassing the poor girl. Let’s give her some space, we can resume introductions later,” the blond super soldier interrupts and you thank your lucky stars for his consideration. He winks excessively at you (always the drama queen) just before sneaking out of the room, albeit dragging Tony with him who can’t stop snickering.

The room clears out pretty fast, Wanda blowing you a kiss before she disappears around the corner with Nat. You release a shaky breath thinking you’re alone at last. Well, alone if it wasn’t for an intriguing super soldier and former assassin staring back at you with fascination and borderline obsession.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what to do about it, this has honestly never happened before.” Your eyes drop to your lap only to glance back up and meet his curious gaze, a fond smile playing on his lips.

“Your hair,” he begins as he inches a few steps closer to where you’re leaning against the couch. “It’s very pretty.” His voice is low and hoarse, with an edge to it that makes it all the more sexy. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Bucky says as your hair goes from fuchsia to magenta to shocking pink at the obvious wonder lacing his gruff voice.

You take a moment to appreciate his handsome features, finding it soothing to just look at all that is Bucky Barnes, steadying your breathing in order to take your rampant hormones down a notch, his 5 o’clock shadow not helping one bit. But the true centrepiece of this Greek sculpture is his eyes, a stormy blue-grey you’ve never encountered before and you reckon will soon become your latest nightly fixation.

As your eyes scan his body as well, you notice the way his breathing picks up when you focus on his luscious lips. Meanwhile his eyes dart from your hair down to your eyes and even further down to your lips as well. “Pink suits you,” he chuckles darkly and you swear the temperature in the room has picked up a couple degrees. His eyes are pensive, concentrated on the phaenomenon playing out in front of his eyes.

“Th-thank y-you,” you stammer as he twirls a lock of salmon hair around his finger and your breath gets caught in your throat. Judging by the light red shade of your hair, you’re slightly (very) aroused and it looks like Bucky is struggling too. He then gingerly tucks the lock back behind your ear, clearing his throat and excusing himself before walking away in long strides.

Ever since that first day, there’s only one colour popping up whenever Bucky is around and you are rarely able to change it back. Some of the other agents even thought you’d dyed your hair pink permanently and even Steve is now giving you shit for it. It happens at the worst possible time, like when you’re busy sparring with Natasha when the door suddenly flings open to reveal a scarcely clothed super soldier, his shirt nowhere to be seen and his chestnut hair loosely tied back in a messy bun.

It doesn’t take much more than that, his eyes locking with yours and instantly colour rises to your cheeks. Soon your entire appearance gives away how truly affected you are by this glorious apparition. Natasha takes advantage of the opening in your guard and flips you over on the mat, landing flat on your back and grunting in pain. Bucky rapidly comes to your aid and offers you a helping hand, swiftly pulling you back to your feet. You thank him and he graces you with a shy smile telling you he likes this new colour on you.

Stunned by his words you turn around on the heels of your feet, jogging over to the life-sized mirror at the other end of the gym and sure enough, your hair is a watermelon pink and your pupils are blown wide, already glossing over with a soft pink hue. Let me remind you, pink evokes romantic feelings and you wish you could just turn invisible instead of being confronted by Nat’s prying eyes and avoid being pulled into a cross-examination later on. But now you just have to get out of there.

Hurriedly saying your goodbyes to Nat and Bucky, you rush past them towards the locker room, Bucky’s hand missing yours by an inch. He wants to ask you what is wrong, if he has said or done anything to upset you. Nat isn’t of much help either, she just shrugs as she murmurs “I’m too sober for this” followed by something about Y/N being a little nervous around new people.

It really doesn’t matter where you are or what you’re doing, the very second Bucky makes an appearance, your hair looks just as flustered as your cheeks, not to mention your dilating pupils and skyrocketing heartbeat. You mostly manage to talk (stutter) your way out of it, throwing some flimsy excuse about having forgotten something at the lab unless you’re actually at the lab and then fortunately Bruce comes to your rescue, asking you to fetch you a couple things for him in an adjoining room. But once you weren’t fast enough to slip away and Bucky’s metal hand caught your wrist causing you to stop dead in your tracks.

“Y/N, wait,” he says softly, his plump lips moving so deliciously the words almost fall on deaf ears, completely absorbed by his sinful mouth as your hair instantly turns darker.

Bucky seems to be debating what to say next, his teeth keeping his bottom lip hostage as he mulls over the words in his mind. “I – I might have said it before but this shade looks beautiful on you. It reminds me of a blushing rose.”

Completely and utterly dumbfounded by his admission, your brain having frozen over by the cold touch of the metal appendage, you throw him a quick smile before hurrying towards the nearest exit like you usually do. Bucky watches your retreating form intently, a pained expression and an ugly frown obscuring his features.

“What did I do this time?,” Bucky asks sadly, turning to Bruce for an explanation as to why you’re acting so off lately.

Bruce looks up from the petri dish he’s been working on, his brows knitted together in a thoughtful frown, smiling sympathetically as he sees the apparent distress in his friend’s eyes, saying “Maybe she’s just not feeling well. I dunno, maybe you should try asking her yourself?” before he focuses his attention back on the work in front of him.

You’re sitting on top of the kitchen counter at three a.m. in the morning, munching on a sandwich you made from some leftovers you found in the fridge. Since you can’t control your powers anymore around Bucky, you can’t accompany the others on missions anymore. Long story short, Steve benched you indefinitely until you either get a grip or tell, rather than show, poor clueless Bucky how you feel about him. You still haven’t made up your mind.

There’s a glass of milk resting on the counter next to you and as you blindly reach out to take it, you hear something rustling behind you, startling you from your inner monologue and you knock over the glass. Praise the Lord for Bucky’s quick reflexes, scooping up the glass mid-air and preventing it from spilling even more milk on the kitchen floor.

Gently balancing the glass in his hand, he sets it down on the other end of the counter. He then turns to look at you with a small smile playing on his lips, shrugging slightly and oh so adorably you feel a familiar heat pooling in your panties once more. Bucky is wearing nothing but some track pants slung low on his hips, exposing the ripped muscles of his chest alongside a perfectly sculpted Adonis belt. It takes every ounce of your willpower not to start drooling on site and you don’t need a mirror to know your hair has done it again.

“I’m so fucking clumsy. Sorry, Buck,” you apologise whilst trying to either evaporate into thin air or disappear into the surface of the kitchen counter instead of melting into a muddle at his feet in utter embarrassment.

“No worries, Y/N,” he chuckles softly, leaning against the kitchen cupboards opposite of you, crossing his arms over his chest and you can’t help but gasp a little at his bulging biceps. “Can I – uh, ask you a question?,” he inquires quietly, his voice barely a whisper compared to your raging heartbeat pulsating in your ears. While he’s waiting for your answer, his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, smirking a little when he sees it has got you all hot and bothered.

“S-s-sure, fire away,” you mumble, averting your eyes to study the floor instead of how sharp his jawline is and how good that scruff would feel between your thighs.

He clears his throat, sporting that classic lopsided grin of his that has you weak in the knees and you’re fairly sure he can smell how turned on you are right now because surely that super soldier serum must’ve heightened his sense as well. Just your luck.

“I saw you talking to Steve the other day and your hair was this azure blue that matched the colour of his shirt and your eyes were such a deep cerulean and it got me thinking, why does she never show these kind of colours around me? Or when you were bickering with Sam over who drank the last bit of Thor’s Asgardian liquor and your hair was a gorgeous crimson. Or that time you and Wanda were so caught up in a tickle fight you didn’t notice I was staring at you and your hair was scarlet. But it wasn’t so much your hair that caught my eye as that golden spark in your eyes and that must’ve been the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

He momentarily stops his soliloquy to take a deep breath before continuing to speak his mind, baby blues set in determination. “I guess what I’m trying to say here… I mean, not that I have anything against pink, but… Are you afraid of me? Are you afraid to show me? Is pink like your safe colour or something because I completely understand if you don’t want anything to do with me,” he blurts out, suddenly very unsure of himself.

“I just think you’re drop dead gorgeous, Y/N, no matter what colour you’re wearing.” Bucky scratches the back of his head, missing the cheeky smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. His eyes flick downwards before shooting back to your face as you release a shaky laugh.

“Oh Bucky,” you coo as you jump of the counter and cross the distance between your body and his, moving to stand between his legs, leaning the tiniest bit against his broad frame for support and gently placing your right hand over his heart, squinting your eyes just a little as his muscles flex under your touch. He totally did that on purpose.

“I – I really like you. I’m incapable of thinking about anything or anyone else but you when you’re around. My mind just goes blank and all my thoughts, they all revolve around you. I guess what I’m trying to say is…”

Bucky stares at you expectantly, wide-eyed and amused at your insecurity. His hands cups your face and he delicately brings his lips to yours, kissing you tentatively and tenderly before breaking away to gauge your reaction.

“I really like you, too” he confesses gingerly when he sees your mouth hanging open in surprise. “But bubblegum pink really ain’t my colour, doll,” he jokes and you let out a light laugh, lacing your fingers around his neck and pulling him back in for another kiss, sensually slanting your lips across his before kissing him deeply and passionately and with all the feeling in the world. Everything that’s left unsaid you pour into the kiss, every single emotion you are not capable to breathe or voice out, you evoke through the sheer power of love. Because you love this man and you have done so from the very moment you first laid eyes on him.

You part ways, panting and trying to catch your breath when Bucky twirls a lock of your hair around his pointer finger, much like he had done that first day. “Now this is more my colour,” he chuckles and you step away to retrieve your phone from the table top, using it as a mirror to assess the damage done. Your hair is a deep plum and your eyes have that violet hue you love so much. Bucky snugly tucks you in his chiselled arms and it’s a perfect fit, Bucky is even more beautiful up close. He’s holding you tightly, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple.

“Purple just happens to be my favourite colour,” he hums against your forehead, a low rumble resonating through his chest and sending shivers up and down your spine.

“Technically it’s lilac,” you retort with a grin, laughing lightly as you lean into him, your lips coming dangerously close to his again.

“I don’t care,” he breathes out, rough and raspy, his breath tickling your lips as his nose bumps against yours. “I love it.”

“And what about me? You love me?,” you ask hesitantly, a mixture of worry and longing swirling behind your eyes.

“I love you,” Bucky confesses before connecting his lips with yours in a searing kiss, a smile crossing your features once more. You both moans into the kiss when Bucky tilts his head in order to deepen the kiss and you run your fingers through his loose strands, sighing softly at the feel of his lips finally on yours.

You’ll never wear another colour more proudly than this one.

I honestly have no idea who to tag so I’ll just go with: @beccaanne814-blog @mrshopkirk @winterboobaer @kiwi71281 @a-little-hell-to-raise @unpredictable-firecracker @marvelingatthewonder @emilyinwonderland3 @hardcorehippos @iiharu-kunii @knittingknerdy @winterwolf57 @dontbeamenacetotheforce @shamvictoria11 @bovaria @marvel-lucy @theariel525

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