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theravencawsatmidnight · 9 months ago

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I AM SO FUCKING BACK

Leland Coyle x F! reader.

W! Nsfw, dubcon, swearing, insertion.

WOOOOOO ENJOY I HAVEN’T WRITTEN FANFIC IN LIKE FOREVERS .

If this is liked ill do more!!! It has build up but i love it!!!!!

Every trial you managed to give Coyle the slip, whether you slipped by him, barricaded a door or just teased him from a distance. You were always one step ahead of the officer and each and every time he would bite his smoke in half while he watched the transporter take you away , the only sound of your snickers bouncing off the cold walls. But this trial would be different, he told himself . He would catch you. And he would do whatever he wanted.

The next few trials he was nowhere to be seen, the other nuts would be out and about while he hung back to watch you and your tactics, every move, every hiding spot, every little room you snuck off to just to get a quick heal fix. How would he catch you though? Should he do it outright? The man puffed out heavy smoke from his mouth watching you scramble around, you looked like you were in a bitchy mood. Rolling your eyes each time you got cornered and it was not him. Groaning when you could not sneak away to finish a task on your own. Poor thing. He let this go on for a bit, watching your friends distance themselves from you as the trials went on until they just went off on their own once they arrived leaving you all alone. This was perfect, a perfect opportunity.

The doors opened letting you and your friends into the dark parking lot riddled with cop cars, immediately they went off without you leaving you with a huffy face and hands on your hips. “Whatever, i don't need any of you to do this” you yelled off to them just for it to fall on deaf ears. Instead you stomped around the parking lot hearing the alarm go off inside the building only you did not bother to see who it was, Coyle was nowhere to be found lately so you had no one to toy with. “Probably dead, damn bastard” you said with a grunt under your breath as you wiggled into an open cop car door to pluck free some small medicine that was under the seat. “Everytime” you said with a satisfied tone. Tucking away the bottle you went on with your trial ducking from screams, gunshots and whatever else seemed to happen. Just when you had gotten inside the door you always went through to get to the main office was shut oddly enough. “Did they not come through here?” you asked tilting your head as you grabbed the knob to whip the door open only to get stabbed in the chest and fall on your ass. “ fuck!! FUCK FUCK FUCK!!!!” With great haste you yanked the object out, dropping it to cover the bleeding hole in your chest and crawling under a desk panting heavily as you fumbled around the medicine, unscrewing the knob and hanging it over the wound just for nothing to come out. “What… its ITS EMPTY?!” you tossed the bottle away in a fit of rage swearing up a storm. “What the fuck?! How the shit is it empty, who just leaves an empty fuckign bottle ?! and who knew my stash was there…..” it made no sense, but you had more, more heals, antidotes, everything you needed in other places in this fuckin trial…

Meanwhile Coyle was lifting his baton to light his cigarette while he watched you from inside an old room, a smirk crawled up his face as he puffed out smoke. “Working so far” he thought to himself. Ignoring the bleeding wound you stumbled into the main office finding bandages placed.. Conveniently on a desk . Without thinking about it you quickly patched yourself up feeling great relief. It was… oddly quiet. Where was everyone? Your friends could not complete the Kill the Snitch trial without you. And where were the nuts? Is this some kind of new test? Whatever. “I just need to find them so we can finish and leave.” you told yourself as you made your way around the trial only to come up empty. Every hiding spot had junk shoved into it making it impossible to squeeze in. every little stash had empty bottles and even your secret room was flipped upside down. And… where was the Snitch? Your friends? You checked the electrifying room to find the chair empty and your friend's terminals already full. “What? But they can't do it without me…” something was not right… you decided to poke at the terminal as if it would help but no luck. Even pressing the button was left unnoticed. They had already left. “What the fuck? So i just have to stay here till a new trial starts?”

“It seems that way” said a voice behind you. Quickly you turned around to some Bambino standing there pointing his shotgun at you. “I'm here to deliver you to your DATE” he laughed wildly. While he was doing so you rushed off into the trial once more, trying to find any kind of hiding spot. Heavy footsteps were growing louder and shotgun shots were bouncing off the walls. Sliding down a corner you spotted an open door rushing in slamming it shut and barricading it with a heavy inhale of breath. “Fucker�� maybe i can hide out in here.” you told yourself , unaware of the small burning light behind you that got brighter with each breath the mouth around it took. You stepped back a few steps tripping over some garbage onto your ass and felt your wrists get grabbed and tied together behind your back. “HEY!!! whatTHE !!!!” a cloth was tied around your mouth and your body was shoved to the center of the room till your back hit a flipped over chair. Your ankles pulled apart and tied to a leg of the chair leaving you very exposed to whatever had caught you , you thrashed about which led to an arm wrapping around you pulling you to the chair to tie your chest to it keeping you in place. And here you were, hands tied up, legs tied apart and chest tied to a god damn chair..

Heavy footsteps filled your ears making your heart thump in your throat , you were starting to sweat out of fear and your eyes were straining to see who had caught you in this dimly lit room. The figure stopped in front of you sliding on his heels with a cattle prod in one hand and his other on his belt. Your heart fell all the way to your ass as Coyle leaned down with the biggest grin on his face , he took in the fear on your face making him feel so nice inside . “well sweetness, whos got who now?” he asked with sarcasm on his tongue, he laughed up at the ceiling while you thrashed about as if it would free you .

“Ya know you been pissin me off,” he told you as he twirled his electric prod around. “Always making my day so fuckin hard and annoyin sweetness. “ his free hand found your breast sitting firmly above the rope , slowly he rubbed it watching you through his shades , every struggle, every bite down on the cloth, every bit of drool that fell from your mouth turned him on. “I was getting tired of it.” he got a firm grip on the shirt around your chest ripping it off you , the excess hanging off the rope exposing your chest to the cool air. “So cute, so I devised a plan, I know, crazy right? “ Slowly his hand traveled down to your raggy pants, he grabbed hold of the garment, ripping it to shreds with ease, leaving you with just your panties. “Always so snarky, bitchy and just flat out annoying” the hand with his cattle prod curled your clit in small circles and your body twitched. No no no… “mmhgg!! “ you tried to plead, beg, anything. You would never do it again… never ever ever… “haha!! Whats that?!” he held his free hand up to his ear to mock you. “Cant hear ya!!!” the circles turned into up and down rubs from the cattle prod as Coyle had his fun with you, he loved this to bits. You on the other hand, your body was reacting against you and a wet spot was forming from all the stimulation, your body was feeling heavy and your vision was fogging over. Coyle used his other hand to squeeze a nipple and twist it around, lifting it up getting a loud muffled scream out of you and what sounded like pleading for him to let go, when he did your body fell limp in your restraints but you were not allowed rest because he just did the same thing to the other poor nipple. All while Coyle tortured you you could feel yourself getting close to climax.. This stupid fucking body. Coyle had glanced down seeing your pussy twitch around and the wet spot leaking from the sides. The officer looked back up at you resting his free hand on his cheek freeing your nipple from its squeezing. Just when you thought you were about to climax the man smiled and moved his prod away sending you into a frenzy as your orgasm faded away. “ MFFFF” you thrashed around biting the cloth hard trying to get any kind of friction, any kind of stimulation … you just wanted to cum. Just once. Just one time and you would learn your lesson… Coyle did not tease your clit again till you had fully calmed down just to do it all again .Every climax you chased disappeared like it was never there. You were a mess, a sweaty huffing mess. The white panties were covered in your juices by now and left a spot on the floor under you. “Ya know sweetness this all could have been avoided … if you were such a bitch…” he tried to sound sympathetic but his body language said otherwise. Every time he moved the prod away he would smirk at you, or tilt his head or blow smoke in your face. The hours were lingering… your body was needy and tired… you were a sweaty mess.. And just when you were about to pass out an alarm went off waking you back up. Coyle threw his head back with a satisfied groan. “Finally a new trial, i'm feelin frisky though. “ the man looked back down at you brushing the wet hair from your forehead” do me a favor sweetness?” the man ripped your panties off and shoved the prod up your pussy just enough so it would not fall out but not enough to cause any damage to you. “Keep this warm for me, im goin scarin!” he laughed getting up leaving you tied up with an electric prod shamefully shoved up your needy pussy. Coyle opened the door and looked back, tipping his hat to you. “Dont worry, your my little toy, i wont let anyone in here” the door closed leaving you in the dark, the sound of the lock echoing in your head.

Tags/ @outlastrabbit

Thought you might enjoy this!

#coyle x reader #leland coyle #leland coyle x reader #the outlast trials

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spritesitrus · 4 months ago

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Heyo!

What's a headcanon/story about your Koopalings, that no one has asked the right question yet, for you to tell about?

(Like, you have a headcanon about their favourite foods or something, but no one has asked about that yet)

I totally forgot to share their dynamics like long ago so quick chart I made to quickly summarize the more important dynamics (plus some extra ones)

The last one is a little joke that goes with a short fic I was writing of the Koops worrying about Jr and Larry becoming adults since enough bad things have happened to the rest of them because of lore reasons™ (the point in which this fic takes place in my timeline is when everyone's doin' good tho so nothing to worry about)

Anyways I wanted to share some little tidbits of the fic cuz why not

Also as a treat, I will share some dumb trivia for them (I did already share some of Iggy's stuff before but I'll just leave it here since I just took it from these lol ToT) and I've included Jr as well!

Cooking Skills

Ludwig- Cooking hasn't been his strong suit for a long time and prefers to not “Meddle with those affairs”(his words).

Lemmy- He's able to cook but usually only cooks stuff he knows and never really ventures out to try new things. But he's always happy to try if it's something everyone agrees on wanting to eat.

Morton- Used to suck but has become the best chef out of all of them. He enjoys cooking for others and always offers to do it.

Roy- Can cook basic level things but he's not really good at it. He doesn't like waiting so sometimes it gets burnt.

Iggy- Absolute dogshit at cooking. Do not let him near a stove unless you want something to blow up.

Wendy- She's good at cooking but it's not something she likes doing regularly all the time. God forbid having to cook with her other siblings too, it'd just be chaos.

Larry- Only knows how to use the michael wave.

Jr- He waits to be served.

Singing Voice (formatted this on an understanding that this is them having a karaoke night)

Ludwig- He's good at singing but I think it's one of those voices that are just decent in their own way rather than being outstanding. It's probably one of the few things Ludwig is okay about not being perfect.

Lemmy- He's pretty tone deaf but he tries. Everyone cheers him on for his enthusiasm.

Morton- He sings quietly but he's not actually half-bad. It's not something he really likes doing so he just lets anyone else sing if they want the mic.

Roy- Not that great and he falsettos a lot. He probably steals the mic the most.

Iggy- He's alright at singing but can’t reach high notes well and is quite flat.

Wendy- The best singer out of them all. She has a powerful voice and is a showoff about it.

Larry- His singing is quite nice but prefers rapping more. He's the type of mf who beatboxes at crazy speeds.

Jr- He's actually pretty good at singing too but it embarrasses him the most since everyone is so enthusiastic for him when he does.

Dance Skills

Ludwig- Only knows how to waltz because of course he does. Outside of that, he dances exactly like a dad. He makes sure to avoid Bowser during parties so the others can't compare them.

Lemmy- A total dancing machine. He mostly likes to do break dancing and disco but can quickly pick up on other dances as well.

Morton- Doesn't seem like someone who dances, but he will get down if the situation calls for it.

Roy- A great dancer who always likes to show off whenever he's partying. He can breakdance, pop and lock, moonwalk, you name it, he can do it. He's also a really good teacher and teaches a dance class in his spare time. The only time he ever wanted to give up on a student was when he was teaching Iggy.

Iggy- Can't dance for shit, like he literally has no rhythm. The only move he knows is the floss and it took the gang forever to teach him how in the first place.

Wendy- A very graceful dancer and knows ballet. Though she's always ready to be on the dance floor too. How could she not when she and Roy are literally besties?

Larry- A pretty good dancer. He can pick up moves easily and knows how to groove.

Jr- He tries to act too cool and cross his arms all like “Heh, I don't dance” but in reality, it's because he's embarrassed that he's a clumsy dancer.

#ask #headcanons #koopalings #ludwig von koopa #lemmy koopa #morton koopa jr #roy koopa #iggy koopa #wendy o koopa #larry koopa #bowser jr #super mario bros #mario bros #smb

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greenerteacups · 2 months ago

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Hi GT! I want to start off by saying that I am constantly in awe of your storytelling, and I hope to one day become half the writer that you are. Thank you for sharing your gift with us.

One of my favourite things about your characterisation of Draco and Hermione is your depiction of their flaws. I’m not so sure where exactly I’m getting at with this ask — because I want to know everything about this story — but I’m very curious about your thought process in picking and choosing which traits or flaws they exhibit in canon then expanding them in Lionheart, and how you think these flaws have influenced Draco and Hermione’s relationship with each other.

You're so lovely to say so, thank you! Thank you for your generous words, they're a great honor and a kindness.

Canonically, Hermione is a proud, stubborn, smug, hotheaded know-it-all. She has a wee bit of a god complex, which has been reinforced by constantly succeeding in crackpot plans to outwit the adults around her, and she's also easily frustrated by inefficiency, which swiftly radicalizes her once she gets a look at how the Ministry works. She's dismissive, insecure, snobby, tone-deaf, and has a complicated relationship with "other girls." I also adore her with the heat of one million billion suns. I love the parts of the books where Hermione bitches out Ron for something, like, fully reasonable, because girls in fantasy so rarely get to be straight-up wrong about shit. Let girls be nasty! Let girls be mean! Let girls be flawed callous forgetful people who regret it and try to be better! Let girls have actual character arcs, man!!

And then Draco, Brat Prince of Rich City, has a full suite of flaws that compliment Hermione's. He's a proud, stubborn, smug, hotheaded rich boy. He has a god complex because his family's never let him fail at anything. He's dismissive, snobby, patently un-empathetic, and he looks down on basically everyone because he grew up at the top of his social food chain.

So when you put them together, you get this weird nucleus of snobby arrogance, and they don't fix each other, to be clear (in many ways they make each other worse!), but they PEMDAS cancel out a lot of the worst manifestations of each other's flaws. Like, Draco lacks empathy because he doesn't tend to give a shit about other people, which is not Hermione's problem. Hermione passionately gives a shit about, like, every single thing on the planet. When he's around Hermione in Lionheart, he immediately gets swept up in other people's problems, and after a while he reluctantly develops the habit of giving a shit about them, at least insofar as Hermione gives a shit about them. Hermione, meanwhile, is at her nastiest whenever someone accidentally triggers one of her insecurities, e.g. her intelligence or her pride or her poor social skills. Draco, on the other hand, is not really insecure at all; he thinks he's the hottest shit to ever breathe. So when she's around him, he naturally gives her the affirmation of being wanted and prioritized and liked for who she is by someone with a lot of confidence and social capital (as she perceives it; Draco from Hermione's POV is a lot less #cringefail than he is in his own, as would be the case for anybody. By the way, more people should talk about how incredibly hard to make someone look cool when you're writing in their head, and they literally never get to play off their mistakes).

When she has someone who genuinely would rather hang out with her than any other person at Hogwarts, Hermione doesn't feel so much like she's third-wheeling of the Ron/Harry soulmate bromance, which chills her out some. And then she also gets the reassurance that her evil morally grey plots and schemes are in fact 100% justified and smart, even though she knows Draco isn't maybe the best judge of that, which she also feels guilty about, but not enough to stop. And then Draco gets the reassurance of someone who's self-righteous definitely 100% Good and Just, Hermione, caring for him. Is this healthy? Who knows. Is this good in the long run? Who can say! But it does satisfy my brain worms on the subject.

#greenteacup asks #lionheart

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hannie-dul-set · 2 years ago

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HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [1].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. swearing, a house fire, mentions of sex, like the chapter title says there is too much underwear in this, an awful amount of embarrassing men WORD COUNT. 2.2k.

TAGLIST. @cerealdreamwriter @tyongff-ff @dinonuguaegi

NOTE. i have nothing to say except i hope you enjoy this shitshow as much as i enjoyed writing it. please check the link in the masterlist if you're curious about the layout of the house. feedback much appreciated i love u.

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 1 — this is too much underwear for a first meeting.

YOU WISH YOU CAN TAKE BACK ALL YOUR COMPLAINTS ABOUT DORM LIFE. Sure, the disgusting, communal bathrooms scrape a year off of your lifespan every time you have to take a piss, and the abhorrently thin walls make you want to rip your ears out every time your neighbors have mind blowing sex, but hey— all of that is better than not having a roof above your head. Even if that roof is two years behind maintenance.

But it’s all too late. You should’ve appreciated having a bed to sleep in before life pried it out from you in the form of a swirling inferno.

When the semester came to a close, your dormmates thought it would be a fantastic idea to throw an end-of-year party. The problem is, that party ended up in flames. Literally. The last person you saw entering the kitchen was Choi Yeonjun until something exploded and before you know it, there’s a stampede, and you’re choking on black fumes, and there’s suddenly a lightshow happening right before your very eyes with the dorm building you’ve been living in for the past year serving as the sparkler.

Holy shit, your dorm is burning down.

It’s a good thing that the fire was stopped before it could reach your room. You don’t know what you’d do if all your notes and textbooks burnt down along with half of the building into debris. Even prior to the fire, a lot of the facilities were janky and needed to be renovated, so you had to pack your bags and find somewhere else to stay for the next two months while the place went through repairs.

“Great,” you huff, filling your two carriers with the bare minimum you have collected in your unit. “This is just fucking great.”

However, just when you’re falling into the brink of homelessness, a friend from your book club graciously offers you a room in his house as a saving grace from your misfortune.

“It’s a small bedroom compared to the rest, but you only have to share a bathroom with one other person! There’s also a laundry room and a living area on the same floor. It’s a big place, so it doesn’t feel stuffy at all even with six, seven people.”

You have no reason to decline Jake’s offer, especially when it’ll be just a temporary arrangement anyway. “Are you sure? You said you have housemates, right? Are they fine with living with another person on such short notice?”

“Yeah, they said it’s cool,” he assures, helping you load your luggage into the taxi. “I’ve been wanting to fill up the last bedroom anyway. The house is just too big even with our current living setup. The more the merrier.”

You’ve always known that Jake Shim was fucking rich. Not because he bragged or flaunted his wealth or anything— but because he’d drop the most privileged, tone-deaf shit at the most inappropriate times and no one can get pissed because he looks oh so innocent while saying them. You had once complained about stuffing yourself with too much meat during a club dinner and that one more bite will have you nauseous. He replied with, “oh yeah, I once ate wagyu steak for a good week in Japan and I got sick of it, too!” and you physically felt your economic status erode at that very moment.

He and you will never be the same. And that fact is made suffocatingly evident right now, as the vehicle slowly pulls into a fancy neighborhood and stops right before the fence of an unreasonably gigantic yard with an unreasonably gigantic house. You do feel a little poor when he shows off the pool and the two garages, but at the same time, beggars can’t be choosers.

Also, it’s a really nice fucking house.

It’s three stories tall, with a covered deck and a substantial amount of outdoor lounging areas. Floor to ceiling windows give you a glimpse of the modern interior of the foyer and spacious living room. You’re a little afraid of getting used to such luxury that you might never want to come back to your old, dingy dorm room— but with every blessing comes a curse.

Jake did mention that you will be living with six other people including him. What he did not mention is that those ‘other people’ would all be men.

Imagine your shock when you’re greeted by a whole ass man in nothing but neon green boxers and shades the moment you slip through the sliding doors of testosterone hell.

Very. You’re very shocked.

“Hey, man,” Jake greets the almost naked individual who is also holding a bowl of cereal in the middle of the afternoon, presumably having just walked out of the kitchen. “What’s with the glasses?” That’s not the biggest issue here. You can see the outline of his fucking penis.

“Oh,” he reacts. “It was just so bright when I got out of the room.”

Jake nods. “That makes sense.” No it does not.

“I think it just got even brighter.”

You can’t tell, but you assume he’s squinting at you underneath his shades. You believe you might also need a pair because there’s definitely a contender in being the brightest thing in the room, so you try your best to not be distracted by the neon of his undies as Jake introduces you to him. “And this is Park Jongseong— or Jay, as he prefers to be called.”

“Call me whatever you like,” Jay smiles at you and reaches out his non-cereal hand for a handshake. He seems chill enough. Maybe he’s just a very laid back person who doesn’t care about general appearances. You can work with that.

“Nice to meet you.” You shake on it. “Aren’t you cold, by the way?”

When he retrieves his hand, he combs his fingers through his hair, ruffling the strands. “My friends often say that I am pretty cool.”

“No, I mean cold,” you clarify. “That does look like a statement, but I’m worried you might get sick.”

You’re starting to get an inkling that you have misjudged Jay. It takes him a few seconds to understand what you were referring to, until a breeze passes by from the open entrance and suddenly, he looks down. “Oh,” he flatly says. “Of fuck.” And the innocent bowls cereal crashes and spills into the ground as Jay disappears into the hallway to your right.

You and Jake stare at the milk minutely seeping into the wooden floor. “I was gonna ask him to help you with your luggage but—” Where Jay disappears, a new person emerges (fully clothed this time, thankfully). “Oh! Hyung, come help.”

He has his neck turned back as he walks up to the both of you. You can hear the sound of footsteps scrambling from where the newcomer is looking at. “What happened to Jay?”

“I don’t know, but let me introduce you to our new housemate!”

“Hi there.” You give him a smile.

Jake tells you his name is Choi Beomgyu, and Choi Beomgyu doesn’t exactly look like he’s keen on accepting your handshake. Instead, all he does is stare you down with his arms crossed, eyes scaling your entire height like he’s doing a motherfucking evaluation. You’re trying your damn best to maintain a pleasant expression. You almost break when he quits his rude staring and turns over to Jake. “So, you need me to help carry her things?” The bastard isn’t even talking directly to you. Your pride can’t take this hit.

“No, it’s alright. I can take care of these myself. Thanks!” Jake flinches when you snatch your second carrier from his hands. “Third floor, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Got it.”

Yes, you might have shoved past Beomgyu on purpose, but that’s not the point. You leave the two behind to take care of Jay’s fallen cereal as you struggle to lug your luggage up the staircase. You manage to bring them all the way to the second floor landing before your arms give in and you let the two cases settle on the floor with a huff. When you pause to take a breather, you catch a familiar face walking down the stairs from above. You recognize him from Jake’s instagram stories. You’re sure his name is Lee Heeseung. “Oh! Let me help!” he quickly exclaims after noticing the situation, hurrying down the steps. “You’re the new addition to our residence, right?”

“Yes, I am, and it’s totally fine! You don’t have to—”

Big mistake. You should’ve just let him help, but you’re a little prideful so you reach out for the carrier he took, and when your fingers brush against the back of his hand, the man suddenly drops the fucking case and retracts his entire arm. You stare, wide-eyed, as Heeseung stumbles back to the ground next to your carrier that happened to crack open in the fray and is now spilling out all your clothes like guts and blood. Behind Heeseung, the door creaks open. “Is everything oka— oh my god, is that a b-bra—”

Well. It is, in fact, a bra, and its color seems to match the flushed face of the poor, unsuspecting individual that just opened the door out of concern for his friend. You make eye contact with him once before he retreats into his room with a loud slam! Heeseung is still on the floor and he’s now profusely apologetic.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, please let me help—” The issue dawns on him belatedly, right when it’s already too late and he has your undergarment in his hands in the midst of trying to undo his mistake. “I don’t think I should help.”

“Good call.” You kneel down, politely prying your blood red bra from Heeseung as you proceed to gather the rest of your clothes back into the carrier.

“I should cut my hands off.”

Oh no. “Hey, it was an accident. It’s fine—” When you try to reach a hand out to give him a completely innocent, completely harmless pat on the shoulder for assurance, he flinches back again. Now your arm is awkwardly hanging mid-air and you’re both looking at each other with shared looks of alarm. The exchange (or lack thereof) reminds you of a forgotten memory— a memory from your childhood. Snacktime all throughout elementary school, to be specific, when all the boys would fucking run away from you and your girl friends for having cooties.

This moment is oddly reminiscent of that and you don’t want to acknowledge it.

“What happened? I heard a crash, is everything alright?”

By the time Jake arrives, you have already managed to clear up the crime scene. With a grunt, you get back up and prepare yourself for another round of heavy lugging. “Can you tell me where my room is? I think you should stay here and make sure your friend is okay.”

“It’s...the first door through the hallway, next to Sunghoon’s. Hyung, are you good?”

You have no idea who the fuck Sunghoon is, but you nod in acknowledgement anyway. “Who’s the person living in that room?”

“Soobin hyung,” Jake answers, helping a dazed Heeseung back to his feet. “Why?”

“You should go check on him, too.”

With that, you leave another mess in your wake as you climb up the flight of stairs to the third floor. You can’t wait to rest. You really want to lie down. But when you walk past the hallway, entering into the floor’s unreasonably cozy living area, you’re met with a fucking fork in the road.

There’s one door right across the hallway, but when you open it, it’s not a bedroom, but a laundry room. So you make a sharp right to the archway opening up to three doors on each of the walls. Jake should have been more specific with what he meant by the first door. You don’t want to take a risk and walk into something you’d fucking regret.

Fortunately, someone emerges from the door on your right and reveals what looks to be a bathroom. You assume he’s Sunghoon, and Sunghoon nearly doubles over when he turns around and meets eyes with you. His expression stiffens, and you’re both just standing there for a good moment and looking at each other without saying anything.

You press your lips into a smile. Holy shit, he’s intimidating. Why the fuck isn’t he saying anyting?

“Hi. I’m—”

“S—shit—”

Suddenly, he’s gone. He’s disappeared into the room in the center after struggling to open the door for a bit. You’re left dumbfounded, but at least now you know where your room is.

You slot the key Jake gave you and twist open the doorknob. The empty room greets you with a body slam of fatigue, and before you know it, you’re sinking face down into the bed and you have no energy left in your fingertips. Admittedly, you have questioned yourself multiple times upon first entering the house whether you made the right decision, whether it’d be better to find an apartment, or maybe you should just crash at your parent’s place for the time being.

But this bed is more comfy than any hotel suite you’ve ever been to, and your bank account isn’t suffering from an enormous dent. Six disastrous men is nothing when you’re able to call a place your home. You can already envision where you’ll be placing your new bookshelf. They’d have to pry your new house key from your cold, dead hands if they want you out of here.

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

#tomorrow x together x reader #enhypen x reader #txt x reader #enha x reader #choi soobin x reader #choi beomgyu x reader #lee heeseung x reader #park jongseong x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #park sunghoon x reader #tomorrow x together scenarios #enhypen scenarios #txt scenarios #enha scenarios #home for the bitchless

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barkingbarghest · 3 months ago

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Something I've been thinking about a lot this season is how "The Jokerification of Mr. Milchick" has to be increasingly on the table, and I've seen several posts that ask along similar lines "how bought-in does Milchick have to be to put up with this," so I think it's not just me. The thing is, ever since he took over the severed floor, Seth Milchick has been subject to indignity after indignity after humiliation after failure. Where's the line? There has to be one. Even Harmony "went to Eagan religious boarding school and had an Eagan shrine in her basement" Cobel had a line, so where's Milchick's?

Since taking over the severed floor, Milchick was told essentially "use your best judgement" when deciding how to manage the fallout of the MDR uprising, only to basically immediately be told "actually, undo all that stuff you did, we want you to handle the situation this way instead". Undermined. His gift for his promotion is the art series of a brown-skinned Kier Eagan who nonetheless has blue eyes*. Insulted. Even the computer still reads Cobel instead of being updated to his name, and he has to personally harry IT to get it fixed. Frustrated. Mr. Milkshake.

Milchick is accustomed to handling people, and before the second half of season 1 he's demonstratably good at it, except all of that was coming from a place of assured power. He can smile and be patient with the severed employees both inside and out because he knows more than them and he can manipulate them. Now? He's running to catch up. He was always a cat's paw, but now it chafes. How much longer will he last?

*The Board's rationale for giving Milchick the paintings was "in the hopes that [he] will see [himself] in Kier" or somesuch, some appeal to those with Eagan true in their hearts, but even racial insensitivity and tone deafness aside Milchick's face in that moment is not that of a guy who seems to agree with that idea and feels that the sentiment is worthwhile compensation for his work. In other words, not someone bought into the religion of Eaganism. I'm sure that gift went over great with Harmony Cobel, but Seth Milchick is not Harmony Cobel.

And then, in this most recent episode, it's all brought to bare when Helena Eagan /orders/ him to act. Remove the Glasgow block. Do it, Seth. Milchick's relationship with Helena is so wild, but I really can't get into that or I'll be here all day.

My point is, every episode this season Mr. Milchick is kicked like a dog and I have to wonder what it'll take for him to snap - and furthermore why he does it in the first place. If he's not a True Believer like Cobel is/was, then why is he willing to go to such lengths for this project? Why does he want to manage the severed floor so badly? Why does he want to own this when, from where I'm standing, his job sucks and his only thanks is an insult?

#I could write an entire separate post about the latent cruelty of Mr Milchick but I think I can just summarize it by saying #He didn't have to lie about the waterfall.#That line is big jokes and it is funny as hell but also that lie didn't add anything to the narrative he was spinning #But he knew the innies wouldn't know better and he could fool them in this very small meaningless way #He could exert that power. And he did.#Anyways I'll be thinking about Severance forever thanks #Severance spoilers #Severance s2 spoilers

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echo-bleu · 1 year ago

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shine still brighter (1/?)

On AO3. Deaf!Artanis bullet-point fic.

Here is yet another fic that I started thinking it would be 2k tops (I have almost 5k and haven't even started the main plot). It started as a mix of this art prompt I did, and a post I can't find now that went something like "it's a good thing that Galadriel hated Fëanor's gut, because if they had pooled resources they would totally have taken over the world." And I wanted to write Fëanor being a passionate linguist. The AO3 link has a Quenya name primer if you're confused.

(cw for mentions of difficult birth and post-partum, and mentions of ableism)

Artanis is born in pain and fear.

Her spirit is nearly as bright as Fëanáro’s. She’ll grow as strong and smart and stubborn as her half-uncle, but her birth also takes almost as much of her mother’s vital energy.

Eärwen doesn’t die. But she doesn’t recover very well, either. She’s very, very tired, too tired to really connect to her daughter for a long while.

Everyone is comparing it to Míriel and Fëanáro, and nobody is happy about that, Fëanáro least of all. Eärwen isn’t anything like Míriel. She shouldn’t get to have the spotlight like that.

Finwë is understandably focused on taking care of his youngest son and granddaughter for a while, which just makes it worse.

Arafinwë is very scared for Eärwen and overprotective of Artanis. Her brothers are already enamoured of her but also a little traumatized by the whole thing.

The baby is very cute and very awake, grabbing everything within reach in her tiny hands and pulling. Especially if it’s bright or moving.

Because of all the complications and worry over Eärwen, no one realizes that there’s something distinctly different about her.

Finwë is the one who sees it first.

Mostly because everyone else is dazzled by the strength of her fëa, but Finwë raised Fëanáro and he knows how to look past that.

Artanis has many of the same traits as Fëanáro that everyone worried about when he was a baby: she won’t look people in the eye, she sometimes screams when they pick her up, and sometimes screams even louder when they put her down (and her screams are the loudest since Makalaurë). She’s extremely picky about eating, and it doesn’t help that her mother doesn’t have the energy to feed her.

Those are all fine, Finwë knows how to handle that. Half of Fëanáro’s sons were and are like that too, and his other granddaughter.

No, the thing he notices is that singing entirely fails at settling her.

Fëanáro had a hard time falling asleep, but he would always settle with his favourite lullabies.

Artanis doesn’t even seem to hear them.

Actually, Artanis doesn’t seem to hear. Anything.

By that point she’s old enough that she should be starting to speak, but the only sounds she produces are wordless screams and laughter.

No music at all. Even the most tone-deaf of elflings know how to carry a tune before they learn how to speak.

Deafness is pretty much unheard of for the Calaquendi. There are some hard-of-hearing elves, but they mostly get on fine with speaking louder.

(The Moriquendi have Deaf elves. There have always been Deaf elves, but there’s something about Valinor’s perfection… Well, it’s partly that there haven’t been that many births in Valinor yet, and most of the disabled elves didn’t make it to Valinor for various reasons, from dying on the way to being scared that they weren’t welcome (the Valar were maybe not as clear as they should have been and some things got lost in translation). And some of that misunderstanding carried over into elves taking babies who are a little too different in Lórien to be “healed”. They’re never heard of again. So the number of visibly disabled elves in Tirion is very small.)

(Estë and Irmo take great care of the disabled elves and they find their own community together, but they don’t quite understand why the Calaquendi just leave babies on their doorstep. Some of them need medical care, yes, but many don’t.)

(Fëanáro would probably have ended up in Lórien if he hadn’t been the Crown Prince. And he knows it. The one time someone suggested that some of his sons might benefit from Estë’s help, he threw a fit so violent that no one ever spoke of it again.)

Survivor’s bias (the elves who made it through the Great Journey were the strongest one, and thus we, as a people, are strong and cannot be anything else) led to a good deal of ableism. Finwë has rather vague memories of disabled elves he knew growing up, but mostly as “they weren’t strong enough to make it”.

He’s already certain that Artanis, like Fëanáro, is absolutely strong enough to make it through anything. Also Míriel’s death after she made it with him through the Great Journey rather skewed his own perspective on that.

All this to say that he has some cognitive dissonance there, but his reaction to discovering Artanis’s deafness is more of less the same as his reaction to Fëanáro’s autism:

“Hey, Arafinwë, so your daughter can’t hear, but the good news is that she’s really smart and strong and also a princess, so all we have to do is teach her to be great at everything so people won’t notice.”

Arafinwë, blinking: “What.”

He’s not at all sure about this, but he’s also very much in over his head wrangling four kids on his own and caring for his ailing wife (Maitimo babysits when he can, and Findaráto is old enough to take care of himself most of the time, but it’s still a lot).

He agrees wholeheartedly that he won’t take his daughter to Lórien, because he’s very much not over being terrified of having to visit his wife’s body there and he’s not losing his daughter.

But it’s also a lot to take in and he doesn’t know what the right decision is for Artanis.

He’s also not entirely certain that trusting his father with it is the best idea.

Eärwen is not really well enough to help, and Olwë is definitely not helping by making remarks about Artanis’s strangeness every time he sees her, and maybe it would do her good to seek out help, and also Arafinwë should move their whole family to Alqualondë, can’t you see how much good it would do to Eärwen?

Ñolofinwë has enough work trying to wrangle his absolute terror of a daughter, who is barely more than a toddler and has taken a liking to Tyelkormo of all people.

Fëanáro won’t talk to him. Not that Arafinwë values his opinion. He’s not Ñolo, forever chasing after their half-brother who hates them. He’s not.

Findis thinks he should take Artanis straight to Lórien because a baby taking so much energy from its mother is not natural, and just look at how Fëanáro turned out, is that what you want your daughter to be like? (Arafinwë thinks that it’s unfair. Fëanáro’s a little intense, sure, and his dislike is hard to bear, but he’s not that bad.)

Lalwen really hates babies.

He is not close to his sisters-in-law.

As the youngest son of the King, he doesn’t really have close friends.

Maitimo is incredibly good with Artanis, but he’s barely an adult, he definitely can’t help with this.

Findaráto unconditionally adores his sister and is very distressed about it all.

“But Atar, why does it matter if she can’t hear? She’s perfect as she is!”

“How are we going to communicate with her, though?”

Findaráto takes his hand and leads him to little Artanis, who is playing with blocks on the floor.

“Hey,” he tells her, sitting down across from her. “Are you hungry?” Saying that, he pats his belly, and then mimics eating with his fingers.

Artanis claps her hands and nods, squealing. She puts her fingers in her mouth, twice, and then holds up her arms to be picked up.

“See?” Findaráto says, turning back to his father. “It’s easy.”

These words stay with Arafinwë. Artanis doesn’t go to Lórien, Eärwen recovers little by little, and it is, indeed, easy enough to find out when Artanis is hungry or sleepy or wants something with simple signs.

Osanwë with little children doesn’t really work past sharing basic emotions, it’s not really communicative.

Finwë valiantly tries to get her to speak. Arafinwë isn’t actually sure if she can’t or if she just won’t.

He feels like trying to speak when you can’t hear yourself, and you don’t even know what words sound like, is probably very hard work. Playing with blocks in understandably a lot more fun.

Findaráto is Artanis’s favourite person by far, and they’ve become good at communicating without words, though no one else can understand them when they do. They’re using a mix of basic hand signs and facial expressions. She follows him everywhere, and he lets her ride on his back when she’s tired.

Maitimo, who has five brothers and a father who regularly have silent days (Makalaurë has never had a silent day in his life), is also very good at figuring out what she wants and needs, though they don’t really communicate beyond that.

But Artanis is growing up, and increasingly frustrated at not being able to communicate her thoughts. Her system with Findaráto is good for simple things, but she’s having complex thoughts now.

She’s also old enough to know that she’s different, and to know that everyone else is talking over her.

She’s not going to take that affront lying down.

She turns into a terror.

Not an Írissë-style terror, running away and climbing trees and biting people. No, she’s an Artanis terror. A very focused terror.

She rejects anybody who doesn’t understand her. And since she has no real mean of expressing herself in an understandable way, that’s everybody.

She’s figured out that screaming very loudly in someone’s ear is a good way of getting them to go away.

The Arafinwëans start wearing earplugs while at home.

It gives them a new appreciation of Artanis’s plight, when they try to speak to each other over her screams and can’t understand anything, but it’s also very tiring.

Artanis, in her child’s logic, rejects Findaráto the strongest. Because he’s the one who makes the most effort and he still can’t solve this for her and it’s so unfair.

Findaráto takes it very hard and is depressed for two years straight. He’s been so focused on Artanis that he never really reckoned with the trauma of his mother almost dying and his sister nearly being given to Estë, so it suddenly hits him and now Arafinwë has two children to worry about.

Angaráto and Aikanáro take to spending a strange amount of time with Carnistir and Arafinwë doesn’t like much the sounds of Maitimo’s reports on his sons’ behaviour. But he doesn’t really have the bandwidth to deal with it.

Eventually Arafinwë has had enough. Everyone is trying to give him advice and absolutely none of it is useful. People in Tirion are whispering about Artanis’s behaviour, and what it says about her parents.

(Fëanáro, for all his intensity, was actually a very quiet child, and his eccentricities were dismissed as a result of his motherlessness. Finwë’s capabilities were never put to doubt.)

He only wants the best for Artanis, it’s just that he can’t figure out what that is. His daughter is hurting and it tears him apart.

(Eärwen agrees with him, but she’s gone to stay at her parents’ for a while because all the screaming and stress were making her relapse.)

What he knows is that a) the problem is mostly communication and b) what has worked the best so far was Findaráto using gestures.

What they need is some way to make the gestures more complex.

They need a language made out of gestures.

Who do we know who’s into linguistics and invented their entire writing system?

Arafinwë takes his courage in both hands, fully anticipating a disaster, and goes to talk to Fëanáro.

“You want me to invent an entire language of gestures for your daughter,” Fëanáro blinks.

“Yes. And then I want you to teach it to me.”

“...do you have any idea how much work that would be?”

“Probably not, but I know you’re the only one who can do it.”

He expects Fëanáro to say he’s too busy to do anything for people who aren’t even really his family, or to go on a rant about Arafinwë’s thoughtlessness or his entitlement or something.

Instead, all he says is, “Come back in three weeks. And bring her along.”

Stay tuned for part 2!

All of my Disabled Tolkien Characters posts.

#galadriel #feanor #finarfin #finrod #silmarillion #the silmarillion #silm fic #tolkien #tolkien fic #echo's fanfiction #I don't actually know where I'm going with this xD #disabled tolkien characters #shine still brighter

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pbaz7 · 4 months ago

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so so so so so incredibly excited (my day was once again absolutely awful so im hoping for a pick me up happy chap :) )

warning: suggestive content

From the other end of the line, Elle’s cheery voice replied, “Good morning, Azzi.”

she does remember that az is taken... right?

“Pai…my girlfriend is asleep

ALMOST OUTED HERSELF LMAO

There was a slight pause before Elle answered, a hint of disappointment in her tone

knowing her this bitch probably chose to not hear the "pai"

Later that day, after they’d woken up, brushed their teeth, and taken a long, warm shower together, they’d ended up right back in bed. The morning had melted into the early afternoon as they laid around, playfully rolling across the sheets, teasing each other, play fighting and stealing kisses in between laughs.

this is so gross (adorable) i hate gay people we should ban them (im literally a lesbian im just annoyed that im single)

Elle (Comms Class):

THE PARENTHESES AFTER THE NAME IM DEAD. SHES SO INSIGNIFICANT AZ MIGHT FORGET LMAO

Without lifting her head, Azzi mumbled against her skin, “You’re gonna win the bet.”

well no fucking shit sherlock.

You’re gorgeous Az can’t really blame her.”

I mean who wouldn't want the Azzi Fudd to be fair

“I’ll be subtle. Just a little something to remind her that you’re taken.”

Paige doesn't really know subtle...

“Your version of ‘subtle’ isn’t subtle at all.”

LMAO STOLE MY WORDS

Well, Paige was driving.

Azzi's her passenger princess of course

“you mentioned your girlfriend yesterday. What’s she like?”

6 foot, blonde, insanely attractive, great hands, star player for uconn women's basketball. sound familiar?

“And what does she look like? Is she as tall as you? Blonde? Brunette?”

hotter than you. taller than you. blonder than you. better than you.

“Why do you want to know?”

clock it azzi

“does she ever get jealous? You know, with how much time you spend with Paige?”

is she blind? we learned she was deaf last chapter when she didn't hear Paige being the freak she is. is this ho Helen Keller reincarnated?

But, I mean… Paige is Paige Bueckers. Gotta be a little intimidating.

oh elle. if only you knew.

if I were your girlfriend, I’d definitely be keeping an eye on Paige.

this is Hermione trying to make a move on Ron in half blood prince at the bar lmao

“She doesn’t mind Paige,”

guys I can't take this anymore. id personally scream at Elle or just start violently making out with Paige in front of her

but I’d rather not talk about my personal life anymore. Let’s just focus on the project.”

FUCKING CLOCK IT.

“I can see why someone would… want to be around you all the time.”

she knows subtle less than Paige jeez

Azzi blinked, her stomach tightening as Elle moved a little closer, leaning in with an expression that was far too intense for comfort.

SHE HAS A GIRLFRIEND. YOU KNOW THAT. DOES SHE HAVE MEMORY LOSS TOO?

💗: Not done yet, but I might need you to come sit here while we finish.

Paige is fuming somewhere. also it's so sweet that she can just like text p and she come to her rescue and protect her

💗P: Something’s wrong though I can tell

she knows az so well she can see her emotions thru a text message

P 💗: I’m omw

Paige leave the weapons at home please

“Hey, pretty girl.” The words lingered between them for a moment, the intimacy clear.

elle is about to start tweaking im scared

Paige immediately noticed and glanced over. Without a word, she pulled off her hoodie and handed it to Azzi, leaving herself in a snug-fitting black t-shirt that clung to her toned frame and her silver cross glistening from the light.

was gonna comment on p being sweet but then like the description of p was so hot so idk what to do here guys

“Everything okay over there?” Paige asked,

Paige is having too much fun lmao

“I haven’t even started,”

im so scared but so excited

“You’ll be lucky if you can even walk to practice tomorrow.”

I VOLUNTEER. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE.

I’ll make sure everybody can hear who you belong to,” Paige whispered, her teeth grazing Azzi’s earlobe before pulling back slightly.

holy fuck.

“You like that, don’t you baby?”

I need elle to walk in

her thighs pressing together as her need for Paige became overwhelming. “P-Paige baby…” she started, her voice barely audible.

the overwhelming urge I have to shapeshift into Azzi fudd

“You’re so obvious, baby,” Paige murmured, her voice low and teasing. “She can see how desperate you are for me.”

I am literally. I can't. I. yeah.

imagining the necklace dangling above her, its chain brushing against her skin as Paige—

poor elle honestly she's basically watching porn (jk I literally could not care less)

Elle, at this point, didn’t need any more hints.

finally.

“do you want to come over here so we can go through the final slides together?”

why is she still flirting.

Paige let her hand trail along Azzi’s arm and then down to her thigh.

elle is like um guys..

“I never would’ve tried anything if I knew it was you Paige. I’m sorry.”

but it's ok to try stuff if its not Paige?

the door barely clicked shut before Azzi grabbed Paige by the shirt, pushing her firmly against it. Her lips crashed against Paige’s, her kiss full of pent-up frustration and desire.

poor azzi had to endure not only elle hitting on her but p literally teasing her for hours

“What you did wasn’t funny.”

it definitely was

“I’ve wanted to rip your clothes off for the past hour,”

never read something so relatable

“I’ll let you go first,” Paige said smoothly, her voice low and dripping with confidence. “Because I promise, Az, you won’t be able to move when I’m done.”

I don't think im ever recovering.

You looked so good in there,"

let's be real tho... doesn't she always look good?

"Be patient, baby."

Paige doesn't know what that word means lmao

"I won’t make you this time, baby,"

THIS TIME? AUTHOR OH HOW YOU'VE ROBBED US

Paige’s control wavered, her breathing quickening as she clenched the sheets beneath her.

you robbed us two chapters in a row. I better see a continuation of this next chapter.

good lord author. I felt so many emotions but most of them were "oh my god I hate elle" and "oh my lord Paige is so fine"

this definitely made my day better, I love you!☺️

-🍉

i’m so glad i made your day better 🥹

you struggling more than azzi was in the chapter with your reactions lol 😭

i pinky swear i won’t rob you next time you’ll love it 🙂‍↕️

ilysm and i hope you have a amazing day tomorrow 🍉

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kaylinalexanderbooks · 1 year ago

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OC questionnaire

Thanks to @drchenquill here, @somethingclevermahogony here and here, @mk-writes-stuff here, @elsie-writes here, and @dyrewrites here!

My last questionnaires:

Robbie, Gwen, Maddie, Noelle, Jedi, and Kelsey here.

Carmen, George, Akash, Sam, Lexi, and Ash here.

Gabriel, Carla, Parker, Rose, Alex, and Ewan here!

Below the cut I'll do: Liam, Hye-Jin, Wendy, Wade, Issa, and CJ!

#1- Liam

Which color do you hate?

“Beige. Oh my God, it's just a boring color. I thought that we were past this. Different shades of beige and brown are being used to be the ~aesthetic~ of so many people on Tiktok. Ma'am, where are you from, Boringsville??? I'm not dissing brown. Brown is a great color. But beige??? Who thought this would look nice on anything, much less everything? Why are all of your walls beige--you look like you live in a sandcastle. Man, I feel bad for Hye-Jin. Her powers appear beige! You poor thing. I have brown. An awesome color, remember. So earthly. Anyway, beige can go die with the sand in the Yukon River Basin for all I care. If I go into your house and see one beige wall, I'm leaving. A rainbow is weeping. You disgraced the rainbow. How dare you.”

If all the sounds in the world would cease to exist, which sound would you miss the most?

“I don't see the point in making me choose a favorite sound. Also, how do you know sound stopped? Ceased to exist? Sound exists as a vibration through matter. Why would that vibration suddenly stop? How do you know we didn't all just go deaf? That's a significantly more logical explanation than sound disappearing. And if you think I don't have an answer and am just avoiding the question, you're very mistaken. I'd miss people's voices. For a variety of reasons. Connection, analyzing tone, nuances of emotion or thought, even my own voice. Sure, I'd be able to learn a gesture-based language--I am not saying voice is the most important thing to hear. But considering I like a good oral debate, I would still miss it, even if it would take me time to adjust to the new mode of speaking. Next!”

What is the first rule you learned as a child?

“You are going to have to rebel and argue your way out of everything. You may or may not be able to tell, but I am a strongly opinionated person. I can make an argument out of everything. Knowing how to back stuff up with logic and facts to get your way. Push and push and push. Know your shit. If you're wondering how this was the first rule I learned, one of my first memories is refusing to eat my carrots because they were bad. I was...three and a half maybe. And I told my mom, 'if I eat these carrots, I will throw up, and then I'd have to eat more food, and you get mad when food is wasted'. I then ate carrots and threw up. Never had to eat them again.”

#2- Hye-Jin

What is one embarassing memory from your childhood that you can't shake?

“Oh, oh no. First day of class, kindergarten. I had to introduce myself in front of the class. I was so excited for my first day of class. I wore this cute little dress, my hair in high pigtails and bows. But when I stood in front of everyone else, I got so sick I threw up. I think I ate something like prune juice in the morning. My dress was ruined. Had to be walked to the nurse to change. Wore that the rest of the day.”

What would you take with you if you were trapped on a desert island for one week?

“Food, water, and shelter. Sunscreen. I'm not pale, but that doesn't mean I'll be protected from UV rays. I would like a change of clothes just so I feel clean. I wouldn't mind bringing one person along with me, but you said what, so that may not be an option. But I really think I could do it.”

What is your favorite animal?

“I actually really like snakes. They're super cool in terms of design. Love reading about them, and I have a snake themed room!”

#3- Wendy

What is your favourite animal?

“Changes depending on the day. Yesterday it was tigersharks. Today it's a water dragon. Tomorrow it may be a capybara.”

Do you have any obscure skills? What are they?

“I can basket weave. Some people think that's obscure.”

If you could change one thing about the world you live in, what would it be?

“More hours in the day so I can do what I want to do.”

#4- Wade

What is your favorite song?

“Rasputin. How can you not love that song? Mr. Brightside is up there, too.”

Do you like consuming happy, positive media, or sadder, more thought-provoking media?

“I like both. You need a balance in life. But thought-provoking in general. I like thinking about things, analyzing them. Not necessarily sadder stories, but thought-provoking.”

What is your favorite type of weather?

“I like it warm and sunny, but enough cloud coverage. The kind of weather where everything is greener, that makes you say out loud, 'it sure is a beautiful day.'”

#5- Issa

When is the last time you were afraid?

“Last week, I was staying up late working on an essay. I was home alone--something I rarely am with six siblings. It was eerily quiet. I already felt uncomfortable. I was on the phone with Alex, multitasking, so I could have someone to talk to to ease my nerves. She got up to pee, which left me alone in my living room for a few minutes. In that time, I heard a banging on our garage door. It was harsh, constant. I thought someone was trying to break in. Then as quickly as it came, it was gone. Alex got back on the line then. I would've felt much better if whatever that was happened any other time.”

Does the fear haunt you still?

“Not really. It was only a minute, maybe two. Took about an hour talking to Alex. But I stopped working on my essay for the rest of the night. Not that I didn't try, but Alex convinced me to stop when I couldn't concentrate due to my heart pounding.”

What do you do when you're afraid?

“What's with all the fear questions? Well, I usually stand my ground. I yelped a bit when that happened. I was frozen for a bit, but I actually was about to get up to check what the banging was when it stopped.”

#6- CJ

What was your favorite toy as a child?

“I had little mini figurines of a bunch of Puppets* characters. I liked them because most of my playtime consisted of me ordering them based on height. After I lined them up, I would play. I also liked burying a bunch of rubber balls in the yard, leaving them there for, like, a week, then digging them up again. My shovels were definitely a favorite. There was also some cool Alii tech thing that simulated growth of a plant. The entire life cycle, in fact. Man, that was awesome.”

What makes you laugh every time you see it?

“Issa and Alex invite us to their improv shows each Friday. Issa is the best at anything they give her. I could watch her all day. She loves putting inside jokes in her skits for me, and is great at linking back previous gags. And then Alex wins Can You Ask a Question? each time. But it's hilarious how she and Issa interact. One time, Wendy laughed harder than I'd ever seen, and she spit out her drink. Then this one asshole Ellie slipped on it during her turn. So yeah, the improv shows.”

Who is the most annoying person you know?

“Issa is annoyingly optimistic sometimes, but that's why I love her. Parker is also a bit annoying at times, but he's funny as shit, so I don't care. Gabriel is quite annoying. Everyone tells me that we're very similar, but I don't see it. Honestly, yeah, it's Ellie. I didn't want to say she was annoying cause she's mainly rude. She's constantly making fun of me for everything I do. Like she doesn't like how organized and specific I am for some reason. She asked for a pencil once, and I told her no, I have my pencils for a very specific reason, and don't let anyone else use them. I think she's hated me ever since. It's probably not as petty as that, unless it is. I don't know. Thankfully, I don't know her well enough to answer that question.”

*this universe's Muppets

TSP intro

I'll tag @gracehosborn @little-peril-stories @willtheweaver @willowiswriting @rickie-the-storyteller @mysticstarlightduck @badluck990 @unrepentantcheeseaddict @winterandwords @oh-no-another-idea @awritingcaitlin @cwritesfiction + anyone else who would like to play!

EDIT: I DID NOT GIVE YOU QUESTIONS OH MY GODDDDDD I'm so sorry

What's something that was horrible in the moment, but in hindsight is hilarious?

Do you often get lost in thought? Where does your mind go? How do you focus?

Who do you worry about the most?

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

#the secret portal #tsp #teaspoon #oc questionnaire #oc tag game #my ocs #liam beaumont #hye-jin song #wendy amante #wade attwood #issa johansen #cj reynolds #writers on tumblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #writing on tumblr #writeblr #writeblr community #writing tag game

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alphyser · 6 months ago

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I come back to post about Kaminari and ended up posting about Monoma instead.... anyway, here are some Monoma things in my Dr ☕

(Also for some odd reason he looks like Satan from obey me....)

(Just look at that... it's so uncanny..)

— he is partly dutch, he doesn't talk about it much though. He does brag about his gramma being a royal (we don't know if this is true)

— He is prideful and boastful, not about himself though. Mostly his friends or his family. He loves them to death and is their ultimate hype man. Bro's the type of guy who doesn't mind being insulted but look at his friends the wrong way and he'll beat your ass

— EXTREMELY bad singer. Like, I think he's tone deaf, one of my favorite stories (that I heard from Kiri who heard from Tetsu) was that Monoma was singing in the showers and everyone could hear it in the dorm, it got so bad to the point that Manga screamed at him and the text bubble broke a wall 😭

— He's actually a very quiet person (just get him away from class 1-a and his opps). He much prefers to study or read cooped up in his dorm room. He's just an introvert in disguise guys, trust me.

— Theater kid! Despite his lack of vocal ability, the man can ACT. Okay for a bit of context, UA has a lot of events in the SY, one of those was a play put on by the students, written by the drama club and performed by the drama club and whoever wants to audition. During our year, they performed Be More Chill, and Monoma got Michael as his role and he ATE. I cried. Izuku cried. Most of us did.

— UA had the school festival, but they also have University week! It's basically a break for the students to just enjoy and celebrate the legacy of the school! There are stalls all over with food and a few events set up by the students. Why did I say all that you may ask, well there's this improv game that happened in the courtyard of UA's main campus and anyone could enter, from any course and any grade. Monoma joined it and he slaughtered the competition... it's actually insane how easily he can go from insane and deranged to giving the most heartwrenching monologue...

— He is fake pretentious 😞 He says he likes tea and wine but he is a liar. He loves shitty coffee. His favorite are those vending machine ones because they're sweet. His "wine" in lunch? grape juice 😞

— DnD player. This is actually how I figured out he's a chill guy. He is a great Dm and is actually very considerate of his players. The first time I played with him he taught me how to do character sheets properly, also he owns so many dice but they're all basic as hell (apparently he prefers the clean look). He also has a dmpc, it's a half-goblin btw.

— Was bullied as a kid, not for his quirk really, it was mostly because he was a little... chunnibyou. Think Kaidou from Saiki k, he was a lil weirdo 😞 (He's recovered now. He's not like that anymore but sometimes he does do rp online)

— Shit spice tolerance. It's so bad. He can't even handle black pepper and peppercorns 😞 He pretends like he has god tier spice tolerance though.

— Language man, he speaks many! Mostly european languages though. Japanese, English, Dutch, German, and French. He likes studying them and is currently learning Spanish

#neito monoma #shifting blog #shifting #mha #mha dr #my hero academia #my hero acedamia #my hero academy fanfiction #monoma neito #Alli's mha dr ｡𖦹°‧ !!

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bylerposting · 1 year ago

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Max knows about Billy & Karen and that's what's in her letter to Mike: Season 5 Theory.

I've always wondered what the purpose of Mike being in this scene was, because it feels like such a specific choice. This scene is about Max experiencing the nosebleed symptoms. Mike is all the way in California having gay thoughts about his best friend. What's he doing here in Max's flashbacks? Why was it important that Mike saw Max getting this nosebleed?

From his perspective, Max's hair would be blocking his view from the blood, so mabye he didn't notice the nosebleed specifically. But he noticed something was wrong.

Check out these BTS pics. Look at how much went in to this scene.

All of those extras, the classroom location, outfits for everyone, makeup, props, just for a few shots of B-roll.

Note how Mike is blocked at the start of the shot, and the camera pans right to reveal, as well as racking focus on to him.

It could be just to show growth between the two characters. They both take math class together, and they sit next to each other. Mike and Max have been at odds with each other a lot, so its nice to see them a little closer.

It does keep Mike's from feeling too disconnected from the main Hawkins plot. But due to the nature of his story this season, his character was going to be little disconnected regardless. That's why I like to think there's more to it.

Remember that thing Karen/Billy had?

As lots of time has passed between seasons, a lot of fans have criticized that for it's characterization of Karen because, while it provided excellent subtext for what happened to Billy as he was flayed, it doesn't condemn Karen's involvement. Therefore it comes off as painfully tone-deaf toward the predatory nature surrounding that dynamic. If they weren't going to condemn Karen's involvement, then why characterize her this way in the first place?

At the same time, people have also noticed that season 4 seemed to slowly build something up with the Wheeler family. Namely, with Nancy's vision in S4E8 showing her Karen, Mike, and Holly presumably dead.

And I think the final piece could be hidden in Max's letter to Mike.

Season 2 Episode 8: Billy and Karen meet for the first time and are instantly infatuated with each other.

Outside of the meet-cute, Billy is looking for Max, and Karen knows where she is. Karen gives him the address and says "And when you see Mike, tell him to come home already, yeah?"

Both Mike and Max get tied to this from the start. Billy and Karen talk about Max and Mike as their responsibility, even though Billy is only 17.

As of up to season 4, neither Max nor Mike have any clue this even happened.

But I think Max could know.

Season 3 takes place 6 months after season 2. Billy and Karen met before the 1 month time jump at the end of S2E9, Add that up and from their first scene together up to their last scene together, Karen and Billy have known each other in-universe for 7 months.

Maybe sometime prior to S3, Max could've seen Billy and Karen together. Maybe she could've overheard how they were talking to each other, and and maybe just didn't know what to do. (I wouldn't blame her. She's 14. She shouldn't have to have a conversation like that.)

Mike's presence in this scene could therefore be to represent that secret. To hint at what she was hiding that got her the symptom.

As of Season 4's ending, Max is in a coma, and she instructed that her letters only be read if she died. Right now it's 50-50 on whether they'll actually be read in S5.

Mike finding out this truth would be really interesting. Finding out your mom cheated on your dad with Billy Hargrove makes a great catalyst for a TON of conflict. I think there's so much that it could lead to.

Argyle being cut in half in that shot with Mike and Karen; "your dominoes are gonna fall."

#st5 #st5 theory #st5 speculation #stranger things #max mayfield #mike wheeler #wheeler family #karen wheeler

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ask-cinnavanillamelody · 1 year ago

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Momentary Mod Explanation and Apology

It has come to my revelation that I may be hurting people unintentionally with my choice of wording sometimes, and I would like to explain myself and apologize.

I really hate being accused of things, especially of saying words and phrases I didn't say. I also have a bit of a speech impediment, (I consider it one) sometimes, I have occasional slurred speech, and people cannot understand me when I am speaking. I also have voice modulation issues, so sometimes I am speaking quieter or louder than I realize.

(I am also half deaf in my left ear and have audio processing issues due to ADHD)

Because of these facts, I always take great care in saying exactly what I mean as clearly as I can, so there is no room for misinterpretation. Sometimes, I punctuate my sentences out loud, or I talk like Yoda does, (thing, verb, question) for example:

"Do you want pizza for dinner?"

"what?"

"Pizza, Dinner, You want?"

still with me?

this care I have in communication with others carries over in text conversations, and I realize that when I type a certain way, I have a very sarcastic voice or a very stern/upset tone. Sometimes I don't realize I am upset until I am actively typing in an upset state of mind. I have a short temper, and it is very easy for me to get poked into that state of mind. All facial expressions or vocal cues are lost, and it's very easy for others to misinterpret what I type, for being aggressive and meaning something else that I did not mean at all. For example. I might text someone,

"Hey, sometimes *thing you do* is really annoying to me, could you *change behavior*?"

and it can be interpreted as:

"Hey you're REALLY annoying, could you like, not?"

This is a very loose example, but it illustrates my point well. Another thing is if I use a word that's very similar to another word, and its meaning gets misconstrued.

I told someone they were exhibiting "childish behavior" and they took that as "You are a child".

I said the phrase, "You cannot lie to me" and it was taken as "You are lying to me. (actively)" or "You have lied to me"

Those two phrases have two entirely different meanings and connotations. Saying someone is "being childish" does not mean you are calling them a child, it means they are exhibiting behavior that a child would.

"You cannot lie to me" means exactly that, "You cannot actively lie to me" That is not calling someone a liar, that is saying they do not have the ability to lie directly to you.

I can see how those two phrases can be misinterpreted, however, if they appear to be coming from an aggressive party. And for that, I deeply apologize. I did not mean to lose my temper, and I did not mean to throw out any sort of insults. If I have ever not clearly communicated with any of you, it was not my intention to cause harm, I am just very bad at communicating, and am easily misunderstood.

That is all,

-Mod Mocha 🍫

#mlp ask blog #ask box open #cinnavannilamelody #cinnaverse #lemonverse #mod mocha #thank you

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selkiesstories · 2 years ago

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I was going through your grrm critical tag and I have to say you really hit on a lot of the points I always noticed with his writing but could not articulate and I think you're way better at being critical of him, than like 90 percent of the fandom that just glosses over his shoddy world building and weirdness lmao. I think that GRRM has a big problem with tone deafness, not being consistent about the supposed themes he's exploring, distorting history yet claiming realism, and just over all not understanding the implications of some of his more baffling writing choices.

Also, I think that fandom tends to project the plots, characterizations, and themes they want this work to be about, and not what is actually presented in the text. A lot of this is of course his fault for not finishing the books, because he uses a lot of POV traps, misdirection, vague retellings of events, ambiguity, which is all fine and well.....if the author actually delivers a resolution to the seeds that he plants thus giving readers some semblance of answers to these questions. I doubt Martin ever will at this point.

That being said, I think fandom also thinks he's some moral philosophy teacher that is imparting 'lessons' with a lot of his writing choices especially when it comes to the sexualization of pre-teens and teens in his work and I just.....don't think that's the case. I think he's a bit of Freak and uses 'well, this is set in medieval times' to place barely teen girls in unambiguously romantic/sexual relationships with older men. I also think the whole 'well, he's really doing a massive critique of incest' in his work and....I just don't see that as the case lol. I remember reading Fire and Blood and him describing how 14/15 year old Alyssa marries her brother Baelon and it's a great marriage, and relationship, and she was so hot for him her cries of passion could be heard through the castle on their wedding night lmao. I see fandom propagate that GRRM thinks incest is this disgusting terrible thing and is always framed badly and it's....not? lol. I'm not endorsing these narrative choices btw, I just think a lot of people don't want to admit that they like a series that would be considered deeply problematic in 2023 and instead try to twist themselves into a pretzel to make GRRM into the most Woke Author to have ever Woked.

Also, don't even get me started on this man choosing to have half his main characters be either literal children and pre-teens and then just treating them as if they are 25-years-old both in terms of mental and physical development (because he obviously has no idea how teens develop). Like, if you have no concept of a the differences between a 12 year old girl a 15 year old girl and a 18 year old you.....maybe don't have the characters start off so baffling young because it makes you look very Weird considering the writing choices in the series.

Aww thank you so much! I think I owe a lot to my realization that I just wasn’t enjoying the books and was under no obligation to finish them. I have no need to twist myself into intellectual pretzels to justify my preferred ending or why actually Martin loves my favorite character or why my ship is endgame. He’s never finishing the series anyway Obviously he’s the author and can say whatever he wants, but he also says that Daemon Targaryen is the most complex character he’s ever written.

Anyway the moral of the story I guess is to not overly identify with whatever it is you like to the point where you think that it has to be above moral reproach because otherwise it reflects badly on you as a person. That, and not insisting on historical accuracy in a story featuring dragons.

#grrm critical #he just isn’t to my taste #ASoIaF is really him writing a dark fantasy with protagonist centered morality #which is fine #just be upfront about it

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tired-truffle · 4 months ago

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Something’s Gotta Give

A CullenxLavellan fic

Chapter Word Count: 3.6k

Part 8 - Impertinence and Other Skills

HENRY: Why are you here for her? You have put yourself at great risk. MARY: Because she is my sister, and therefore one half of me."

Masterlist

Ash found Solas on the bank of a trickling stream, legs crossed and hands laid on his knees. His face remained blank, his breathing even, and his posture relaxed. Serenity like that wasn’t something Ash had ever experienced and she took a little joy in ruining it for him.

“Apologies for interrupting what I’m sure was a very insightful session of, uh, thinking, but we need to talk.”

His fingers twitched, tension crawling up his neck. He kept his eyes closed. “Urgent enough that it cannot wait?”

Ash tapped her foot impatiently. "Nope, not waiting. Unless you'd prefer I start singing. Fair warning, I'm tone-deaf and know exactly three bawdy tavern songs and one lullaby."

Solas's eyes snapped open, a flicker of alarm crossing his face - rude - before settling into his usual mask of calm. "Very well. What is it you wish to discuss?"

Ash plopped down beside him, the damp grass cool against her skin. She plucked a nearby wildflower, twirling it between her fingers as she tried to formulate her question. "So, Rae tells me you know a lot about spirits, that you’ve met them?"

Solas inclined his head. "You are correct. I have encountered many spirits in my journeys through the Fade."

Ash leaned forward, the wildflower twirled faster between her fingers, petals blurring into a soft pink haze. "What are they like? I mean, are they all wisps and whispers, or do some of them look like people?"

He arched an eyebrow, his gaze drifting to the stream. "It depends on the spirit. Some appear as nothing more than flickering lights, while others take on more complex forms. Spirits of wisdom often appear as scholarly figures, while those of courage might resemble great warriors." Solas turned back to her. "I fail to see how this line of questioning could not wait until a more appropriate time."

Ash waved her hand dismissively, accidentally flinging the flower into the stream. She watched it float away, carried by the gentle current. "Oh, don't be such a stick in the mud. It's a beautiful day, perfect for a chat about otherworldly beings."

Solas's eyes narrowed, studying her with an intensity that made Ash's skin prickle. The gentle babbling of the stream filled the silence between them, punctuated by the occasional chirp of a nearby bird.

"Ashvalla," Solas said, low and measured, "while I appreciate your curiosity, I suspect there is more to your inquiry than mere academic interest. Perhaps it would be prudent to address the true nature of your concern."

She plucked another flower, this time a delicate blue, and began methodically shredding its petals. "Fine. You can sense spirits, right? Like, if one was nearby, would you know?"

"Ah, I see,” Solas said without missing a beat. “You're asking if I can sense the spirit possessing you."

Ash cursed beneath her breath, letting the mangled flower fall from her fingers.

Solas's lips twitched as though about to break into a smile. "Spirits of Love are exceedingly rare, you should be honoured.”

Ash's mouth opened and closed, words failing her as she stared at Solas in disbelief. She ran a hand through her hair, dislodging a few strands from her braids. "How long have you known?"

"Since our first meeting," Solas replied, his tone surprisingly gentle. "The spirit's presence is…subtle, but unmistakable to those who know what to look for. I spoke to her in the Fade and she assured me that this was what she wanted, even though it’s a terrible idea."

Ash groaned, covering her face with her hands, trying not to let her panic overrun her. In the span of a few months, two people had uncovered her secret when she’d spent decades without incident. "Fantastic. Just fantastic. Any other deep, dark secrets you'd like me to reveal while we're at it?”

“Not at the moment, but I’ll let you know should that change.”

Lowering her hands, Ash glared at Solas who seemed far too pleased with himself for her liking.

"So, you've known all along." Resignation pitched her voice lower. "And you just…what? Decided to keep it to yourself? Watch me squirm?"

"I apologize if my approach has caused you distress. That was not my intention. I simply believed it was not my place to reveal such a personal matter.”

Ash snorted, plucking another flower. "How noble of you. And here I thought you just enjoyed having one up on me."

"While I won't deny a certain satisfaction in knowing something others do not, that was not my primary motivation," Solas replied. "I was curious to see how you would manage around so many and in battle against demons. You use so little of Love’s power, I can’t help but wonder why.”

“And you will continue to wonder.” Ash flicked the flower into the soft breeze, watching as it floated away, a question banging on the inside of her teeth. "Are you going to tell anyone?"

Solas shook his head. "I have no reason to do so. I do not wish you or Love any harm. Many are ignorant to the true nature of spirits, and their fear leads them to violence. I understand why you have kept this a secret."

Relief washed over Ash, her shoulders sagging as the tension drained from her body. She looked up at Solas, a wry smile curving the corners of her lips. "Well, that's good. But you're still a condescending prick, you know that?"

Solas chuckled, rich and surprisingly warm. "No one’s perfect. Not even me."

Ash couldn't help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation finally hitting her. Here she was, sitting by a stream with an elven apostate she disliked, who knew her deepest secret, trading barbs and chuckles like old friends. She’d kept this secret for twenty-three years, and he’d discovered it within minutes. How horribly aggravating.

As Ash's laughter faded, she found herself studying Solas with newfound curiosity and an undercurrent of worry. The sunlight dappled through the leaves overhead, casting shifting patterns across his face, softening the sharp angles of his features. For a moment, she could almost see why her sister found him so intriguing. Almost.

A rustle in the nearby bushes caught her attention, and Ash turned to see Rae emerging from the foliage, twigs caught in her shaggy blonde hair. Her sister's gaze darted between Ash and Solas, surprise and suspicion in the raise of her eyebrows.

"Well, well," Rae drawled, placing her hands on her hips. "I see you two are getting along. Should I be worried?"

Before Ash could respond, Solas spoke up, his tone dry as autumn leaves. "Even us condescending pricks can learn how to coexist sometimes."

Rae's eyes widened, her gaze snapping to Ash. "Did you really call him that?"

Ash shrugged, unrepentant. "I regret nothing."

Her sister let out an exasperated groan, pressing her fingers to her temples. "Creators, give me strength. You're impossible."

"It's part of my charm." Ash rose to her feet and brushed grass from her robes. The fabric clung to her legs, damp from the dewy ground.

"Ugh, let's go. It's time we get back to Haven. I'd rather not give Cassandra another reason to glare at me."

Ash stretched, her joints popping satisfyingly. "Fine, fine. Back to the land of snow and Ferelden repression, we go." She turned to Solas, who had risen as well, his posture as impeccable as ever. "This was…enlightening. Let's never do it again."

Always the cryptic, he said, "As you wish, though I suspect fate may have other plans.”

Ash trudged through the snow-covered paths of Haven, her boots crunching with each step. The chill mountain air nipped at her cheeks, turning them a rosy pink - though she didn’t feel it, her body was always too warm.

Rae had asked her to attend the war council meeting on behalf of the mages, as Grand Enchantress Fiona was preoccupied with settling their new allies into Haven. This was an important responsibility, one she couldn't afford to mess up. The mages were counting on her, and more importantly, Rae was counting on her.

She pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the Chantry, the hinges creaking in protest. Ash strode through the dimly lit hall, her footsteps echoing off the stone walls.

As she approached the war room, voices drifted out, muffled but clearly engaged in heated discussion. Ash took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and pushed open the door.

The room fell silent as she entered, all eyes turning to her. Leliana, Josephine, and Cullen stood around the massive war table, maps and markers scattered across its surface. Cassandra leaned against a nearby wall, her arms crossed and her expression as stern as ever.

"Ah, Ash," Josephine greeted her with a warm smile. "Thank you for joining us. We were just discussing the placement of the mages for the upcoming attempt to close the Breach."

Ash nodded, moving to stand beside the table. "Happy to help. What's the plan so far?"

Cullen cleared his throat, gesturing to the map. "We've been considering positioning the mages here, at the base of the ruins. It would give them a clear line of sight to the Breach while keeping them at a safe distance."

Ash studied the map, her brow furrowing. "That might work, but it's awfully far. The mages will need to be closer to channel their power effectively."

"But moving them closer puts them at greater risk," he argued, “we don’t know how the Breach will interact with their magic.”

"I understand your concern, but if we want this to work, we need to take some risks, Ser."

He narrowed his eyes. She’d done it again, hadn’t she? Used the honorific as a tease. “Why does it feel so…impertinent when you say it?”

Ash flashed Cullen a coy smile. "I'm simply showing you the respect your position deserves. How could that possibly be impertinent?"

Cullen's jaw clenched, a muscle twitching over bone. "Your tone suggests otherwise."

"Enough," Cassandra cut in, pushing off the wall. "We don't have time for this. Herald, your opinion would be most welcome.”

The discussion continued, voices rising and falling as they debated the merits of various positions. Ash found herself warming to the task, her initial nervousness giving way to determination.

The meeting wound down and though the final plan wasn't perfect, it should work.

Leliana rolled up the maps with practiced efficiency, while Josephine scribbled final notes in her ever-present ledger. Cassandra pushed off from the wall, her armour clanking softly as she strode towards the door.

"We'll reconvene tomorrow to finalize the details," Rae said, her posture straight and authoritative.

Ash nodded, gathering the few notes she'd scrawled during the meeting. As she made her way to leave, she found herself falling into step beside the Commander. The torchlight flickered across his face, casting shadows that accentuated the sharp line of his jaw and the faint scar on his lip.

Cullen cleared his throat, his eyes flicking towards her before darting away. "The armour is faring you well?" he asked, gesturing vaguely towards the gleaming silverite chest plate she wore.

A mischievous grin tugged canted across Ash's mouth. "Oh yes," she replied. "My back pain is much improved."

Cullen's forehead pinched in confusion. "Your back…?"

Ash's grin widened and she leaned in slightly, close enough that she could catch the faint scent of leather and armour polish that clung to him. "Well, you know," she said, dripping with suggestion, "it was quite the burden, carrying around all that weight up front. The chest plate keeps everything tight and distributes the weight more evenly."

Realization dawned on Cullen's face, a blush creeping up his neck to stain his cheeks a vivid pink. His eyes widened, darting down to her chest before snapping back up to her face with almost comical speed. "I…that is…forget I asked," he stammered.

Before Ash could tease him further, Cullen all but fled, his long strides carrying him swiftly down the Chantry hall. She watched him go, chuckling to herself as she admired the way his cloak swished with each step.

"You're terrible," Rae's voice came from behind her and she turned to find her sister leaning against a nearby pillar, arms crossed and a wry smile on her face.

"I have no idea what you mean," Ash replied innocently, batting her eyelashes for added effect.

Rae pushed off from the pillar to join her. "Of course not.” A heavy pause and she stuffed her hands in her pockets. “We have enough mages coming with us to the Breach, you don’t have to go too.”

The defensiveness within Ash bristled at the back of her neck and she tamped it down - Rae hadn’t ordered her to stay behind. Yet. “Why ask me to represent the mages if I wouldn’t be there? I can’t tell them what to do and then sit back and relax. Besides, you’ll be there at great personal risk, we have no idea what that Breach will do when you try to close it.”

“Or what it will do to the mages,” Rae countered, her shoulders hunched. “I don’t want to have to worry about you when I should be focusing on the Breach.”

Ash took a moment, examining Rae’s closed-off posture, the tension in her jaw. The stress she was under as she reached her ultimate goal, the lives of everyone in Theda’s resting on her shoulder, was enough to crumple just about anyone. Yet Rae continued standing, stubborn and willful, but she didn’t have to do it all alone.

“Since when do you worry about me?” Ash pushed lightly at Rae’s shoulder, earning herself a wicked glare - but she’d succeeded in getting Rae to straighten and she’d take her wins where she could get them. “I’ll be with dozens of mages, all of us supporting you. I’m not going to miss this.”

Rae's eyes narrowed, her jaw clenching as she studied Ash. Tension crackled between them, like the buildup before a lightning strike. Then, with a deep sigh that seemed to come from the depths of her soul, Rae gave in.

"Fine. But you stay at the back of the group, and if anything goes wrong—"

"I'll run faster than a goat with its tail on fire," Ash finished, grinning. "Promise."

Rae snorted, smiling reluctantly. "I was going to say 'follow Cassandra's orders,' but that works too."

As they stepped out of the Chantry, the crisp mountain air hit Ash's face like a slap, bringing with it the scent of pine and woodsmoke. The sun hung low on the horizon, covering Haven in hues of gold and orange. The bustle of the day was winding down, replaced by the quieter sounds of the evening.

Ash's gaze swept over the village, taking in the sights that had become familiar over the past weeks. Mages and templars mingled uneasily near the tavern, their old animosities set aside in the face of a greater threat. Chantry sisters hurried about as they tended to the wounded and the weary. And everywhere, the subtle undercurrent of anticipation, of holding one's breath before the plunge.

Tomorrow, they would attempt to close the Breach. Tomorrow, they would learn if all their efforts had been in vain.

The Breach loomed ominously above as they readied themselves for the final confrontation. Cullen came up beside her. "Good luck," he said gruffly, shifting his weight from foot to foot, his mouth opening and shutting like he wanted to say more, but didn’t know how.

Ash's eyes darted to Cullen's mantle, where a vibrant red leaf nestled itself among the thick fur. Without thinking, she’d reached out, her fingers brushing against the soft pelt as she plucked the leaf free. Her knuckles grazed the warm skin of his neck, sending a spark of electricity through her hand.

A faint blush crept up his neck at her touch, staining his cheeks a dusty pink that Ash found oddly endearing. Ash's gaze drifted to Cullen's lips, noticing the way the scar there pulled slightly as he swallowed hard. She wondered, briefly, what it would feel like to trace that scar with her fingertip, or perhaps with her own lips.

"I, uh…" he started, then trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Thanks," she said finally. "For the luck, I mean. We could use some of that today."

He nodded politely. “Of course.”

And because she couldn’t let him go that easily, she added, "You know, Commander, if you wanted to give me a token of your affection, you could have just asked. No need to hide it in your mantle."

Cullen's blush deepened as he fought back a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

They departed for their stations, Cullen to join his men in case it all went wrong and they needed to fight back hordes of demons, and Ash to join the other mages.

Rae stood at the forefront, her slight frame dwarfed by the swirling vortex of the Breach. Yet there was an unmistakable aura of power surrounding her sister, the mark on her hand pulsing with green light. Ash watched, breath held, as Rae raised her marked hand towards the sky.

The signal came - a sharp nod from Rae - and Ash felt the surge of magic rise within her. She poured her power into Breach feeling the combined strength of dozens of mages joining with her own. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at once, like standing on the edge of a cliff and leaning into the wind.

The Breach pulsed and writhed, angry wisps of green light lashing out against the assault. Ash gritted her teeth, pushing harder, feeling the strain.

Love stirred within her, agitated and confused. The spirit's usual warmth turned erratic, flickering like a candle in a storm. Ash's concentration wavered as she felt Love's distress rippling through her.

"Not now," she gritted out through clenched teeth, trying to maintain her focus.

But Love's unease grew stronger, her essence stretching and twisting inside her. It was as if the spirit was being pulled in two directions at once - drawn to the Fade beyond the Breach, yet tethered to Ash's mortal form. The conflicting forces sent shockwaves through Ash's body, making her magic sputter and flare unpredictably.

Sweat beaded on Ash's brow as she fought to control the chaotic energy surging through her. The world around her blurred, reality seeming to warp and bend. For a dizzying minute, she thought she could see through the Breach - glimpses of impossible landscapes and fleeting visions of spirits just beyond reach.

Love's confusion bled into her own thoughts, memories and emotions tangling together. Ash saw flashes of her childhood, felt the warmth of her father's embrace, tasted the bitterness of loss and the sweetness of newfound purpose. Through it all, Love's presence pulsed like a second heartbeat, frantic and erratic.

Clenching her fists, Ash redoubled her efforts. She could feel the other mages' power flowing around her, steady and strong. She couldn't let them down, couldn't let Rae down.

Ash wrenched her magic back under control. She built walls in her mind, cordoning off Love's fraught emotions, creating a barrier between herself and the spirit's distress. It hurt, like trying to sever a part of herself, but she pushed through the pain.

The Breach contracted, the swirling vortex shrinking as Rae's marked hand glowed ever brighter. Ash poured every ounce of her strength into the Breach, her vision narrowing until all she could see was the pulsing green tear in the sky.

A deafening crack split the air, and for a heart-stopping moment, Ash thought they had failed. But the Breach collapsed in on itself, green light imploding with a final, thunderous boom.

The force of the Breach's collapse hit like a battering ram, sending Ash and the other mages sprawling. She tumbled across the frozen ground, her armour clanging against rocks and debris.

As the dust settled, Ash found herself flat on her back, staring up at a sky suddenly, blessedly whole. The Breach was gone, leaving only empty air where it had once dominated the clouds. She blinked, hardly daring to believe it was real.

Rae. Where was Rae?

Ash scrambled to her feet, ignoring the protests of her bruised body. She scanned the battlefield frantically, searching for any sign of her sister. All around her, mages and soldiers were slowly rising, but she couldn’t see Rae.

There - a flash of blonde hair amidst the rubble. Ash's heart leapt into her throat as she spotted Rae, struggling to her knees. Without a second thought, she was running, her feet barely touching the ground as she raced towards her sister.

Ash reached Rae just as she managed to get one knee under her. She slid to a stop, kicking up a spray of pebbles and immediately wrapped an arm around Rae's elbow. "Up you get," she said, helping her sister to her feet.

Rae leaned heavily against her, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps - Ash feared the worst. But then Rae lifted her head, and a tired smile spread across her face. Relief flooded through Ash, so intense it made her knees weak. Rae stepped away and Ash released her.

"You did it," Cassandra's voice rang out across the clearing. The Seeker stood a few paces away, her sword hanging forgotten at her side as she stared at the now-sealed sky.

As if Cassandra's words had broken a spell, a great cheer erupted from the gathered forces. The sound swelled, echoing off the mountains and filling the space with triumph.

Ash felt Love stir within her, the spirit's earlier distress fading into a glow of contentment. The feeling spread through her, amplifying her own joy until she thought her heart might burst. She turned to Rae, grinning so wide her cheeks hurt.

“I think we’ve earned a celebration, don’t you?”

Next Chapter

A/N: I'm very excited for the next chapter and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did! Fun times and…some not so fun times.

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convenientalias · 4 months ago

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Kdramas I Watched in 2024

A little roundup as the year comes to a close :D

First, the dramas I watched that aired in 2024:

A Shop for Killers - I wasn't as big a fan of this as I expected to be. I liked Jeong Jian, and the uncle-niece moments, but there was a lot of screentime that was just gunfights and explosions, which kind of bore me. When it comes to action, my preference is fistfights and swordfights. I also think I might not actually be a Lee Dong-wook fan; this is the third show I've watched of his, and I never quite get into the characters he plays. I'd rate it 2/5.

Bitter Sweet Hell - Ever since watching Mine, I'm always looking for the next female-led thriller that can deliver the same femslashy energy, or at least an intense and complicated relationship between two women. Bitter Sweet Hell seemed like a good bet for this, as the two leads are both women (a woman and her mother-in-law), but it never quite hit for me. It is a bit femslashy between our FMC and the woman having an affair with her husband, especially towards the end, but overall, it's not a very shippy show, and as a thriller, it never quite got me fully invested. 3/5.

Black Out - I watched this show primarily for Byun Yo-han but also because I like plots about ppl getting framed for crimes. I read the book beforehand, which led to me constantly scrutinizing it for differences lol, and there were many. Some good, some perhaps less so, but I won't go into that here! I really enjoyed the whump (lots of that in the book too) and I loved Geon-oh's character, who barely appears in the book but here actually got some screentime. There are a LOT of terrible people, of course; probably the majority of the characters have committed some crime they are trying to cover up, and after a certain point, you're constantly watching them rip into each other and throw each other to the wolves. Barely anyone makes it out intact. I would recommend this one! 4/5.

Queen Woo - The first few episodes of this show are amazing. Beautiful costumes, political intriguing, complicated relationships, and a villain played by Lee Soo-hyuk who comes across as both sadistically evil and rather pathetic. Then the second half of the show is consumed by chase scenes and fight scenes, and the political intrigue kind of gets confusing and falls apart, and Lee Soo-hyuk barely shows up anymore, and the female lead's character goes from survival mode to girlbossification. This show infuriates me in a way only a show with great potential could. I still love the first few episodes though. Queen Woo/Go Bal-gi forever. 2/5.

The Trunk - I'm not sure what to think about this one. I really liked the two lead actors, Seo Hyun-jin and Gong Yoo. The atmosphere of the show (especially at the beginning) is strong, in turns mellow and tense, very absorbing, a bit slow paced. And the exploration of two people cohabiting, in a "marriage" that is at first stiff and impersonal but that slowly becomes something more. At the same time, I'm not sure I buy the central relationship as much as the show wants me to--I'm not sure I'm convinced that either lead would get over their past so quickly, or that these two really could not just be interested in each other but love each other. Maybe they just sold a tone of estrangement and nostalgia too hard, idk. I also don't love the way the second female lead is portrayed less and less sympathetically as the show goes on--the last episode tries to dial it back, but she's become very flat by that point. So, mixed feelings all around. I'd recommend more for vibes than for plot. 3/5.

When the Phone Rings - I'm only 2/3 through this one so I won't rate it yet, but so far it's been good. I love the identity porn and the complicated central relationship. Also the representation of mute and deaf characters, though I'm not sure the female MC would technically be called selectively mute, as she seems to be able to talk and chooses not to. In any case, the sign language is a cool aspect of the show. And I hadn't seen Yoo Yeon-seok in anything since Mr. Sunshine, so it's fun to see him again! (I also hadn't seen Byun Yo-han in anything since Mr. Sunshine until Black Out, so I'm associating these two shows in my head lol.)

Shows that didn't air in 2024 that I watched this year:

Circle - This was my fourth time watching this show lol. I think I've said all my feelings about this show before but!!! ITS SO GOOD. There are lots of shows that play with a split timeline, showing half the show in a flashback and half in the present, or just a short flashback every episode, but I've never seen a show use the format as successfully as Circle. The way it uses the separation of time as well as space to show the longing of two separated brothers to find each other; the way events in the past are slowly revealed at a pace that makes sense given what's going on in the future. The fact that the future portion has a significantly different setting in a dystopian sci-fi city, and the very existence of this city ties into what happened in the past. THE ACTING. Yeo Jin-goo and Kim Kang-woo at their best! AMNESIA. MIND CONTROL (of sorts). ALIENS. This show truly has everything. I know it came out in 2017, I KNOW I have recommended it a hundred times before, but I am never over it and yes, that's right, I'm not over it now either. Not only 5/5 but 100/5 To Me.

Crime Puzzle - This show? is not? good? Speaking of shows that use a bunch of flashbacks, that happens here too, but? it's just not well done? It was so boring I can barely remember what happened in it, and just... not satisfying. My favorite character died. The answers to certain mysteries were kind of obvious. I feel like the central relationship could have had Flower of Evil vibes if I had cared about them at all, but the chemistry was simply not there. 1/5.

The Deal - Kidnapping show! Kidnapping show! I LOVE KIDNAPPING it is my favorite trope of all time. And I don't know if I've ever seen a show that was as purely "Hey, wanna watch a kidnapping go wrong and everything be whumpy and fucked up" as this one. The two kidnappers and the kidnap victim are equally protagonists of the show, and both sympathetic. You just want them all to somehow come out of this situation okay and yet everything is constantly going wrong and the longer the show goes on, the more emotionally unstable everyone gets. Incredibly shippy between all the main three characters. I AM BEGGING YOU TO WATCH THIS SHOW. mostly bc I need more fanfic but also I would settle for just more ppl talking about it. 5/5, the best show that I watched for the first time this year.

Jirisan - I'd recommend this show primarily for the atmosphere and setting. It takes place on a mountain (Jirisan) and is about rangers trying to save people from life threatening accidents (and also murder). There's just so much panning over the landscape and it's absolutely gorgeous. Lots of hiking etc. As a thriller, it's decent; the setting leads to different sources of tension than usual, a lot of man vs. nature rather than the usual man vs. man conflict of the average thriller. But also a certain amount of detection and investigation. Also, one character spends a certain amount of the show as a ghost!!!!! which is very cool but I won't give too many spoilers on that. The only downside of this show is that the pacing can get kind of slow if you binge watch it due to the aforementioned focus on the beautiful landscape. 4/5.

Pale Moon - I rarely watch a show focused on an affair that I actually like, but Pale Moon really did it for me. Part of it's the acting. Kim Seo-hyung in the lead creates a quiet, withdrawn character who sort of steps out of her life and starts creating the world she would want to live in: A younger lover rather than her distant and dismissive husband, a lover she can pamper with her own money rather than accept money from submissively. But it's fake - the money is embezzled from her job at a bank, and the lover, at first awe-struck by her and utterly infatuated, becomes less the person she loves the more support she offers him and the more success he finds on his own. Money courses through the show, enchanting and corrupting all the characters. The minor characters are also great, especially the MC's best friend, played by Yoo Sun. And the ending, while not entirely tragic, is still emotionally devastating (or at least, it devastated me). 5/5, maybe not for everyone but I think more people should try it out.

I also watched a lot of Korean movies this year! I won't go into too much detail here but I did rank 15 Park Sung-woong movies here. TLDR everyone should watch Daemuga, For the Emperor, Method, and New World. Apart from that, a brief summation:

In Dream (2023) - Spooky dreamwalking, but basically your average serial killer thriller apart from that. 3/5.

Love and Leashes (2022) - I came for the femdom and I did enjoy it but the structure of the plot is still very man-pursues-woman, plus the femdom in question barely seems to enjoy BDSM. So, it wasn't quite what I hoped. 3/5.

The Night Owl (2022) - Spooky happenings and Murder in Joseon. Lots of political intrigue. 5/5.

Tomb of the River (2021) - I just wanted to see Jang Hyuk in a gangster movie and I did get that. But the plot was not so strong, and after all the Park Sung-woong movies I watched this year, my standards for gangster movies have gotten higher. 2/5.

Burning (2018) - Have you ever watched a Murakami adaptation and said to yourself, yeah, that sure seems like a Murakami? I hadn't until this year but now I have. That said, it did make one change that, without having previously read the short story, I could completely pinpoint--there are some things Murakami just doesn't do. I liked the change, though, and I liked this movie. 4/5.

The Divine Move and The Divine Move 2: The Wrathful - I like watching people play go and murder each other in convoluted ways. Both these movies are a bit ridiculous and over the top, but I enjoyed them! And Woo Do-hwan is in one of them :D. 4/5.

Old Boy (2003) - Wins the "most fucked up movie I've watched this year" award. If you know, you know! 4/5.

Overall, I had a good year for kdramas and Korean movies both. The dramas I would recommend the most would be: First and foremost, The Deal, more people need to watch it ASAP. After that, Pale Moon and Black Out were really good; I also would recommend Jirisan but you do need some patience!

I hope you watched good kdramas this year too! We'll see what the next year holds :D <3

#kdramas

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reservoirreputation · 2 years ago

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'Birds in the Spider's Nest' extras part 2

Below is draft one, containing two chapters, and some notes on changes to draft two. Current author's notes are in []

spoilers below

Draft One

Chapter One

1992

The doors to the warehouse burst open, two men wearing suits spilling through. Entrance shut, the hot LA sun banished to the other side, and they wait for their eyes to adjust to the darkness. It helps to take off their shades, of course, which is exactly what Blonde and White do. Sweaty, wired with adrenaline, the two of them break out into smiles. The heist went off without a hitch. The whole crew, soon to reach the meetup, along with their loot, are all but rich beyond their wildest dreams.

White’s feeling particularly excited, and slaps Blonde’s arm, bringing the tall bastard in for a hug, “We fucking did it!” he laughs, pulling away, “We’re set for fucking life, man.”

Blonde doesn’t make a move, just keeps smiling. It’s a bit unusual for him, personally. He’s just a stoic kind of guy. But, hey, who wouldn’t grin from nabbing hundreds of thousands in dollars in diamonds? He imagines himself and Eddie, taking the money and just going. Somewhere, anywhere. Didn’t matter, as long as it was the two of them.

More people join, first Mr. Pink, with the loot in hand, then Brown, who fled the scene with Mr. Blue, and then Joe and Eddie Cabot, their bosses. Joe, the patriarch, is beaming, “Great work boys.” he jabs a thumb behind him, “Let’s blow this joint.”

Any good job needs a good hideout. In this case, Northern California’s the place. The drive, in two separate cars, takes several hours. By the end of the day, they’re surrounded by woods and nature, truly as far away from any major city as they can get. It’s getting dark, so they crash at a cheap motel for the night. Blonde and White, though they don’t say it out loud, let alone to one another, think about how it’s been nearly twenty years since they were last up here. It sours their respective moods just a little, but neither show it around the other guys.

The whole group has since changed into more casual clothing, better fitting the colder climate. They head to a local diner for breakfast, not unlike their activities twenty-four hours before. It’s all joking and smiles, talking about anything other than the robbery, but they seem alone in their jovial mood. The rest of the patrons, some half dozen of them, hold an air of tension about them. After the first fifteen minutes or so, Eddie’s slapping arms and kicking feet under tables, telling in all but words for the rest of these chucklefucks to read the room.

“Wonder if someone died.” is Brown’s tone deaf response.

“The guys I sent out here a month back didn’t mention anything.” Joe says, “Must’ve been more recent than that.”

“Well, let’s ask the waitress when she comes back over.” suggests Pink.

“Don’t be tasteless. She’s just here to do her job,” Blue begins, “not serve as tour guide.”

“If she wants a tip, she’ll tell me whatever I need.” he gives a humorless smirk, and does just that.

“Oh- this?” the older woman, maybe mid-fifties, gestures to the rest of the diner with her pen, “Yeah, it can be a bit of a dramatic bunch, here.”

“What happened?” Pink asks, more than a little impatient.

“Just some ghost stories going about. The more gruesome, the better.” she shakes her head, “You know how small towns are.”

Pink nods his head in agreement, tipping the lady one whole dollar at the end of their meal for her troubles.

Back on the road and thirty minutes later, they stop at a gas station for a top off and some supplies; namely that of beer and smokes. Brown gets the gas, and White heads inside. There’s not many options, but enough in supply to last them about a week. He’s got a couple of cases in hand and a basketful of snacks as he heads up to the counter. There’s one person ahead of him, waiting for assistance.

White can’t help but the stare; the guy in front of him is pretty cute, at least from behind. Almost like he can feel White staring, the man looks ever so slightly over his shoulder, blond hair falling just a bit into his face, and White would swear he’s smirking.

“You’ve got more than me.” The stranger steps back, pack of cigs in hand, “Why don’t you go first?”

White blushes, feeling like he’s been caught, “You don’t have to.”

“I insist.” There’s just the hint of teeth in his smile, and White gets a real good look at the guy in just a few seconds; Big green eyes, with that puppy dog quality, an even bigger nose, and the kind of rounded face that guarantees he’s gonna get carded for that pack. There’s something else, specifically about the eyes that gets White’s attention. He gives in before he can think about it more.

Now at the counter, White’s on the receiving end of stares, “Great ass for a grandpa.” Jesus, was all of California this forward? He thought that stuffed was relegated to LA. Serves him right for looking.

“I’m not that old.” he sets the beers on the small counter, basket in hand, not even dignifying the comment by turning to face the guy.

“So, just daddy?”

That shouldn’t be as funny as it is. White fights a grin, “You sound desperate.”

“You started it.”

“Did I?”

“Look me in the eye and tell me otherwise.”

The attitude on this guy. Well, he’s acting more like a cocky kid, and White can’t help but think of him that way. He turns around, and the kid’s wearing an admittedly great poker face. Actually has some air of authority to him. Where the fuck did he learn that? Worst of all, White can’t even get a word out without grinning.

“Thought so.”

“Shut up.” he laughs.

“Tracy’s still on her smoke break,” the kid observes, “you probably have enough time to give me your number.”

“I can’t do that.” and White actually regrets having to say it.

“Alright. Where you headed?”

“Why would I tell you?”

The kid nods to the van White and company came in, “You telling me you and your buddies are scared of one fag?”

“Of course not.”

“I’ll make it fair; I’m going up to my family’s cabin. Gotta check out reports of squatters. Wouldn’t care normally, if they weren’t making such a racket.”

The more they talk, the more White feels like he’s met this stranger before. Not physically, but in demeanor. He just can’t quite think of the name. Until he does.

“My friends and I are meeting up with Matthew.” like he’s a local, “Staying at his cabin for the week. He’s real generous like that.” Most of that was a lie; Matthew was dead.

The kid’s face becomes unreadable, “Matthew, huh? Got a last name?” before White can decline the information, he continues, “Matthew Reynolds?”

Shit, “Uh, no, don’t know-”

“Cabin number nine?”

Oh. Fuck. “I mean-”

“You know he’s dead.”

White does know that. Tries not to think about it. And that’s been especially difficult over the past forty-eight hours, “… I know.”

“What you don’t know is that number nine is my cabin.” he looks White in the face, studying him. A small smile, “Have I finally met the squatters?”

No way to un-ring this bell, “We only just got up here, I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” for once, the truth.

“You know it’s probably a mess up there?”

What’s that have to do with anything? “Which would only be a problem if we were going to number nine. And we’re not.”

“Gonna go throw a rager of a party?” he gestures to the copious amount of beer on the counter.

“… No?”

“Because I’m looking to sell the place, but gotta tidy up first. How about I let you and your buddies hang out, I get to tag along, we get to screw each other’s brains out, and you all help me clean up at the end of the week?”

The cashier returns, and White doesn’t know if it’s a blessing or a curse, “I need to talk it over with my friends.”

The cheeky fucker practically takes it as a ‘yes’. “You do that.” as Tracy begins to ring White up.

Because he’s already deep in it, and because he’s infinitely curious, “You bought the place from the Reynolds?”

A flash of sadness in those green eyes, “Inherited it from my parents, same way they got it from my Uncle Matt.”

Oh. That changes everything.

They owe this kid.

As the older man leaves, Freddy turns his attention to Tracy, “Long break.” he says playfully.

“Had to get something from my car.” She pulls a crumpled paper bag out of her jacket, “My boyfriend’s aunt made me promise to give it to you.” Tracy holds it out.

Amused, Freddy takes it, looking inside, “Table salt and a bundle of sage?”

“For the ghosts.” she tries to smile it off.

“There’s no such thing.” he tries handling the bag back. Tracy doesn’t reach for it.

“Burn some sage when you get to your cabin. Pour some salt at every window, every doorway.” like she’s reading from her aunt’s recipe book, “Make a circle and stay in it for protection. Make a circle around an entity to contain.”

Creeped out, “When did the locals get so superstitious?”

“Spend more than a few summers here and find out.”

He smirks, “Now I get it. Always an outsider unless you’re born here. You don’t have to pull my leg.”

“It’s not cabin that’s haunted.” [WTF is this sentence??]

“It’s squatters.”

Tracy rings up his cigarettes, “Stay safe, Officer.”

“Retired. Have a good day.” Freddy tries being pleasant about it, but his stomach’s in knots. His mind’s been on his uncle a lot, and it’s the kind of thing he’d say.

Uncle Matt and his sister, Freddy’s Mom, were different in many ways, their opinions on the afterlife just one of many, and not even the most controversial. So very often Freddy wanted to side with the former, but the idea of wandering spirits, restless after death, just makes him uncomfortable. These troubled thoughts leave him as he watches the handsome stranger talk with his companions, Freddy’s mouth upturned in a smirk.

“What the fuck are you on about, junior?” Joe demands, “How the hell does he know where we’re going?”

“It’s Matty’s nephew!”

“Who the fuck is ‘Matty’?” Pink asks from the backseat.

“The guy whose cabin we’re hidin’ out at.” Eddie says, “Old employee of Daddy’s disappeared years ago.”

White shouldn’t be surprised, but still gives Joe and incredulous look, “We owe it to the guy to not kill his family.”

“Right, the nephew of a guy that used to work for me just happened to be in town.” Joe shakes his head, “Go with him in his car, make sure he meets us at the, and we’ll whack him there.”

“Joe-”

“He’s making it up!”

“Just, listen to me!” White composes himself, “Take one look at his eyes, and tell me it’s not Matty’s kin. If you don’t believe me, I’ll take care of him, myself.”

“What exactly would you mean by ‘take care of’?” because Joe’s not stupid and White’s not that slick, “Seems to me you’re eyes have been wandering again, buying us more trouble than we need.”

“Come on man, just take one look at him.” White waves the guy over, baggies in hand. For the first time, White sees the kid walk, and there’s a distinct limp to it.

“Christ they even got the same shitty fashion sense.” Blonde mumbles, causing Eddie to turn to look at him.

“You’ve met this ‘Matty’?”

“Ages ago, before I even met you.”

The kid leans in just enough to be heard through the open window, “You the guys that are gonna wreck my place?”

Joe sighs, ‘fuck, that’s his fucking nephew, all right’, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Want me to go ahead so you fellas don’t get lost?”

Blue chokes back a laugh, covering it with a cough, ‘boy’s got a death wish’.

Back on the road, Joe comes to a few conclusions; one, it’d be tacky to kill Matty’s kid, after all is said and done. Two, the kid obviously had no fucking clue who any of them were, or what his Uncle did for a living, else he wouldn’t be so cavalier. Three, Larry made the right call in bringing him along. As far as Joe’s concerned, this nephew is going to be the most welcome hostage in history, to the point where he won’t even know he’s there against his will. By the end of the week, they’ll just leave the little bastard in the dead of night, and get several hours on him before he comes to.

White’s sweating as the kid calmly leads the caravan of two. The air between them, at least on his end, is awkward as fuck. Every idea to break the ice just screams ‘terrible’, and White doesn’t know what to do with himself.

“So, what’s your name?” a brief glance over, and it shouldn’t be as much of a turn-on as it is.

“We’re not supposed to say.” He tries being light about it, like it’s no big deal.

“A masquerade minus the masks?” he smiles, and shit, he’s so hot.

“You could say that.”

“Got a pseudonym? Something better than just ‘Daddy’?”

White laughs, “Oh god, you weren’t serious about that?”

“Depends on how you like it.”

He shakes his head, “My boss’ son calls him that, so I’m afraid not.”

“Oh, that’s cute. He like, five or somethin’?”

“He’s the redhead in the car behind us.”

The kid bursts out laughing, “The one in the tracksuit?!”

He can’t help it, joining in, “And the bald guy in the front seat’s his ‘Daddy’.” the combination of words feels weirdly cursed, and would earn him a hard smack from either Cabot if they heard him.

“The fucker that looks like the Thing?!”

He tries covering his mouth, holding back the laugh that threatens to come out. Failing miserably, White wipes tears from his eyes, “You mean the rock monster from the Fantastic Four?”

“You see it, right?”

White’s stomach hurts, afraid he’s about to pull a muscle, “Jesus christ, I can’t unsee it.” God, when’s the last time he laughed like this? ‘Too fucking long’.

“So we got tracksuit, we got the Thing, what are you called, stranger?”

Oh, fuck it, “Mr. White.”

He nods, “No first names?”

“Nope. And I wouldn’t call those two ‘tracksuit’ and ‘Thing’ if I wear you.”

“And the others?”

He shouldn’t feel this uneasy, the codenames are there for a reason, and what else was the kid gonna call them? “The really old guy’s Mr. Blue. Tall and silent is Mr. Blonde. The weaselly looking guy with the bug eyes is Mr. Pink. The nerd with the soul patch is Mr. Brown.”

“Oh god, is this party ‘Clue’ themed?”

Another laugh, “Shit, hadn’t thought of that.”

“At least their names are a lot more interesting and varied, what with ‘Plum’ and ‘Mustard’. We doing some murder mystery game?” He seems really into the idea, “Can I join in?”

White actually regrets having to say, “No, there’s no game, and even if there were, you probably wouldn’t be invited.”

His mouth twists at that, “Okay, but I get a name, right?”

“Why the fuck not? Pick your favorite color.”

He frowns, “Blue’s already taken.”

“Second favorite.”

The kid glances at the charm hanging from his rearview mirror, it being a leather cord with orange glass beads. “Orange. How’s that sound?”

‘I’d rather know your real name’ White pushes the thought down, “Great. Where’d you get this?” he gently holds the beads, cool to the touch.

“From my Uncle.” is the subdued response, “Guess this whole weekend’s just gonna be a tribute to him, huh?”

Guilt twists in Larry’s gut. White smiles it away, “Can think of worse ways to spend the time.”

“You knew him, right? You didn’t just pull a name out of your ass and decide to crash at his place.”

“Yeah, I knew him. Not terribly well, but we worked together a bit.” Shit, was that too much?

“That could mean anything.” he smiles, “My Uncle never held a steady job in his life.”

“That’s freelancing for ya.”

The kid- Orange- is so happy to hear that. Like he barely got to know his family member. And really, that could be the case; Larry was last up here in, what, 1974? Thought he’d never forget, but the years have a funny way of sneaking up on you. Eighteen years, and Orange couldn’t be thirty, yet. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat.

The cabin looks worse than what both Orange and White were anticipating. Aside from the dirt and grime coating the wooden roof and walls, the vegetation surrounding it overgrown, several species of vine climbing into crack in the interior and through broken windows, the fucking door was gone. Just, ripped off its hinges. A quick survey shows it lying some twenty feet away, partially hidden by some bushes. As both cars stop, and everyone begins to file out, White watches the other’s face, heart hurting is sympathy; the kid looks shocked, eyes more than a little moist. He shakes it off, and steps out, White following close behind.

Everyone helping with bags of supplies, the group starts to file in, careful not to step on shards of glass that litter the hardwood floor. It’s not rained up here in a minute, so there’s no sign of water damage, making it all the more clear ‘door incident’ happened fairly recently. There’s a somewhat large room in this small cabin, and after some examination, it’s clearly meant to be both the living room and the kitchen. Every surface is dirty; if it’s not dusty, it’s moldy, if it’s not moldy, it’s covered in literal dirt. The furniture is musty, the fire place long cold, and no one can find any kitchen utensils to speak of. “Guess someone took them.” is Orange’s toneless observation.

“Fuck’s sake, my boys didn’t tell me the place looked like this.” Joe turns in place, taking it all in, “I swear, it’s only been a month.”

Orange just slowly wanders down the short hall, to what one would assume to be the bedrooms.

“Hey!” Eddie tries calling, but is ignored, “He can’t- we can’t just let him go off-”

“It’s his place, junior, let him be.” White says, just a little bitter.

“What are we gonna call him?” Brown wonders, “Can’t exactly ask for his real name, and not expect him to ask the same thing back.”

“He’s not a fucking dog.” Pink rolls his eyes.

“We-” oh no, “-ah, already settled that.” White pretends to look around the decrepit room in order to hide his deepening blush, “Told him we were having a party with codenames. He’s Orange.”

Eddie stares at him like he’s crazy. Blue says what the others are surely all thinking, “He’s not one of us.”

“He’s our host that’s pretty fucking chill about us crashing here. Consider him a temp.” White looks back at Joe for his approval.

The boss’ face is unreadable, and then, “It’s a good idea, Mr. Brown. Can’t ask something of a man you wouldn’t answer yourself.”

Brown looks over the moon at the praise, and Pink frowns.

“So good, we should follow suit.” he turns to his son, “You’ll be Red, I’ll be Black.”

It’s the final straw, “Seriously?!” Pink whines.

“I’m in charge, I get pick of the best names.”

Orange sits at the edge of the bed, dust being sent up into the air. He waves it away from his face, then looks down at the shelf in front of him. It’s short, would come up to just his knee if he stood, and is filled sci-fi novels, both the short ones you devour in a weekend and the long ones that can feel like epics. Orange remembers some of his earliest memories of this place; his parents taking him up here the summer before starting pre-k, bringing a mish-mash of items meant to keep his attention. How, even at four years old, he gravitated towards the covers of robots and spaceships, just to look at them. The way his brain filled in what the adventures may be taking place before he could even properly read. To say these pictures of tech-heavy skylines, desolate alien worlds, otherworldly women and (later on really hot) muscular men started his love for the genre, and led to his love of comics, specifically of science experiments gone wrong, ordinary people becoming something more, it was all connected. It all started here.

A twinge of pain as Orange stands back up. He has a low-level amount of pain, these days, usually it can be ignored. The drive up here definitely aggravated things, though. Pills or pot, which would he choose this time? He hopes that a bit of the devil’s lettuce isn’t a hard line for these guys, all things considered. A smile as he thinks of it as yet another habit of his Uncle’s that he picked up.

Getting a cigarette instead, Orange lights up, turns to see Mr. White in the doorway. “You okay?” he is asked.

“Yeah, I just-” shit, why’s his throat so tight? “Usually when I check up on the place, I don’t get any further than the main room. Make sure the place is still standing and then fuck off.” pack and lighter now safely back in his pockets, “Don’t know why y’all wanna stay here, there sure as shit ain’t enough room for ya.” a forced smile, startling after all the others for this stranger came so easily. When White doesn’t answer, Orange feels the need to get into ‘host’ mode; “There’s two bedrooms. This one was my Uncle’s, and for two weeks out of the summer, it was my parents’. Room next door was mine. If Uncle Matt was visiting at the same time, he’d take the couch.” A few puffs, “He was a good host like that. Guess I should do the same.”

White shrugs, “The youngsters can crash in the car. Although, it is looking like the better option at this point.” and Orange shares in his smile.

“God, I’m sorry.” Orange stubs out the butt in a very dusty ashtray, “I feel like I’ve been nothing but a downer since we pulled up.”

“Nothing wrong with that.”

“No, I was approaching this-” points between the two of them, “-as a chance to fuck around, have fun. Instead, I just feel fucking depressed.” he sits back down on the edge of the mattress, “Feel like I’ve promised you something I can’t deliver.”

White takes the spot just to Orange’s right, “No problem, at all. Really, I’m just flattered you were interested to the first place.”

“I still am, I just-” he sighs, “I knew coming up here would be tough, especially alone, and I guess I thought a gaggle of guys would make it easier.” That makes White laugh, and Orange feels so damn accomplished, “Guess I was wrong.”

“You never know, it could get better.”

Orange is a bit surprised at how much he needed to hear that, “Yeah, it could.”

Rejoining the rest of the party, Orange sees the guys have already begun tidying up; he knows it’s for their own comfort, but can’t help seeing it as being supportive. ‘You’re not that important to them. They don’t know you.’ he frowns at the thought. He’d be a fool to think otherwise, but usually he was kinder to himself than this. Shaking it off, Orange grabs a pillow from the couch, takes it outside and starts beating the dust off of it. The one called Mr. Brown is also out front with his own cushion.

Looking over, “Orange, right?” seems friendly enough.

He nods, “Mr. Brown?”

More than a little bitter, “Yeah, yeah, Mr. Shit.” he grumbles.

Biting back a laugh, because the guy really seems to care about it, “What are y’all allowed to share? Can you tell me what you do?”

“Freelancing.”

“Ah.” as if this is the only answer Orange will ever need. “So, are y’all like nomads or somethin’? Part of a homeless caravan?”

“Do I look homeless to you?”

A bit unexpected, “You look well off and that you have the protection of a group. And that you were wanting to break and enter private property.”

Brown’s face softens at this, “Well, when you put it like that, I guess that does look like what we’re up to, huh?”

“Really, I don’t care if you just want a place to crash.” Orange starts on the other side of the pillow, “Just curious about where you’ve all been.”

“Well, we’re not homeless, and we’re not nomads.”

“That all you can say?”

“Look, I know that with you’re Uncle, you’re kinda one of us, but we really can’t talk about it.”

That’s not at all what Orange wanted to do, “I’m not-” and the other’s already off, back inside, “-one of you.”

1974

Vic Vega is led into a nice office, where two men already sit. Spotting him being escorted by the henchman, they both stand. The man behind the desk is the infamous Joe Cabot, and, if Vic plays his cards right, his future boss. The guy is tall, imposing, reminds him a bit of a bulldog. The guy in front of the desk, next to the empty chair meant for Vic, seems to be the complete opposite; he’s quite short, but stocky. Much younger than the big guy, and actually looks quite kind. Vic notes to watch his back around this one; kindness was always an ominous sign, as far as he’s concerned.

Joe gestures for him to sit, then gives his attempt at a smile, “Mr. Vega. You come highly recommended. Your brother has nothing but good things to say.”

“A miracle, really.” is his dry reply, because Vic and his brother rarely get along.

“Maybe he thinks you’re qualified, maybe he just wants you to get some work and fail miserably. Either way,” he looks up and down at Vic’s imposing height, “You’ve got potential. You interested in interning?”

It’s the most exciting thing to happen to Vic in years, “Sure.”

“This here’s Larry Dimmick.” The man to Vic’s left gives a polite nod, a slight smile, like he knows he’s gotta handle him with kid gloves, “He’ll be your mentor.”

The first week of on-the-job training is interesting, to say the least. The first day was nothing but talking and driving, meeting some people in very public places, making small talk while Vic waited in the car with the windows rolled down. The next two days involved even more driving, but with Dimmick going into various buildings; houses, apartments, small businesses. Again, Vic not allowed anywhere near the conversations. Day four of being on his best behavior, Dimmick looks over and says, “If you can keep your mouth shut you can tag along for the next meeting.”

Vic doesn’t respond with anything more than a nod.

‘Meeting’ turned out to be a shake down, with some associate being behind on payments. Three months worth. Vic could feel dread build in the pit of his stomach, but still wears his best poker face. He’s been pretending he doesn’t give a fuck about any awful thing since he was ten, this would be no different. So, when Dimmick and another heavy grab the bastard’s arm, smacking his hand on a flat surface, he’s expecting to see broken fingers. When Dimmick gets out a knife, instead, Vic can’t help but look away.

The sound of steel cutting through flesh and bone will haunt him just as much as the man’s screams.

As the weeks wear on, Vic’s exposed to more of the inner workings of the business. He meets various employees, most of whom are very out of the loop about Joe’s activities. It’s a silent lesson; the people around you only know as much as you allow them to. The debt collectors don’t need to know the same things as the accountants, despite how connected the two are. The wholesalers don’t need to know everything about the dealers, and they’re meeting one such of the latter, right now.

Larry’s a protective sort, despite being much shorter than Vic. Every new face Vic comes across, Larry insists on leading, physically keeping Vic behind him. So, when they meet a pot dealer named Matty, also a short fuck, Vic just feels like ac overgrown freak.

Larry doesn’t quite like Matty. That much is obvious. Later on, Larry will say to him that not many people do, because Matty’s a bit of a screwup. The initial meeting, though, the guy seems quite nice.

The dope dealer is about Larry’s age, maybe younger. He has light brown hair, a thin face. Skin is freckled and pale, and eyes a striking green. He wears jeans ripped at the knees, a loose t-shirt and an even bigger plaid button-up over this, like the guy’s permanently wearing someone else’s clothes. He stinks a bit of pot, but of the good stuff. His expression is tired, like he doesn’t get enough sleep. Like he doesn’t get enough of anything. Where Larry comes across as being in control, Matty seems like he’s just along for the ride. Vic can’t help but see part of himself in the dealer, the kind of instant connection when you see someone who’s the same kind of fucked up as yourself.

Chapter Two

1992

The first night is ended with a supper of gas station snacks and a lot of booze. The talk is pretty minimum, tight-lipped. Orange feels less and less welcome, despite the loving glances from White. He just… doesn’t want to be here. There’s something about the place that feels oppressive, forbidding. How can the place where his happiest childhood memories were made now feel so awful? Orange thought he’d be a lot more conflicted about selling the place, and now he can’t get ahold of the papers fast enough.

The group as a whole is also disappointing; Orange was hoping they would throw a rager of a party, fuck shit up, making chucking everything that much easier. It’s hard to feel bad about throwing out broken things, after all. Now? The group might as well be sitting on their thumbs. Plus, there’s no TV to watch, as the set was busted years ago, none of them brought books (Orange selfishly wants to keep his Uncle’s all to himself, afraid one of these guys will pinch one), no one even brought a deck of cards. It reminds him, “Anyone wanna play a board game? Scrabble, Monopoly, something like that?”

Brown seems interested, Pink just rolls his eyes, “I’ll take whatever you’ve got.” says the former.

“Great!” Orange replies, a little too eager, himself, “Just need to see what we’ve got.” He gets up from the couch, heading towards the kitchen.

“You keep your games in the kitchen?” Blue says, just to give the kid shit. He doesn’t see Black or Blonde glance over to one anther, watching Orange carefully.

“No, in the basement.” Orange answers, opening a door and stepping through.

“This place has a basement?” White asks out loud, not really expecting a reply.

“As if the shit hole couldn’t get creepier.” mutters Pink, “Watch it, he’ll come back up with a fucking ouija board or somethin’.”

“Oh, I can’t handle that.” Brown shakes his head, “Think I’d have to ditch y’all and take the car the fuck out of here, at that.”

“You’d ditch your cut?”

“Nothing’s worth sticking around after fucking with a demon.”

“There’s no such thing.” says White, like Brown’s just a child bullshitting at the playground.

“Easy for you to say if you don’t believe in hell.”

White just shrugs at that, “It certainly helps.”

“But, what about that talk of ghosts?” Brown says, “The waitress said the town’s spooked.”

“She’s probably just fucking with us.” Blue yawns, ready to sleep then and there, “Was hoping for a better tip.”

“Shut up.” Pink retorts, getting up to stoke the fire.

“Okay, so the alternative is that it’s animals.” Brown adds, “Worse yet, people.”

“Anyone skulking around out there should be afraid of us,” Eddie says, “Not the other way around.”

“What if it’s a serial killer? Or a murder cult?”

“Geeze, will you give it a rest?” Pink whines, “’Bout to throw myself in this fire.”

“You’re the one that brought up ouija boards.”

“So I should go fuck myself?”

“Shut the fuck up, the both of you.” Joe glares, “Quit working yourselves up, or go fuck in the car, I don’t care. Just shut up about it.”

The kitchen door gently closes behind him, as Orange fumbles for the light switch. Finding it, his path is illuminated; the stairs have about twenty steps, leading down into the basement. at the foot of it, he turns, facing the room proper. It feels wrong, like he’s seeing the space with fresh eyes. This must be what they mean, in that everything’s bigger when you’re a kid. Back then, the room felt huge, with tall shelves he couldn’t begin to see the tops of. Now, he saw the tops easily, barely an inch from the ceiling. God, even the floor looked different. It’s like Orange doesn’t recognize the place, anymore.

Going over to a dusty, plastic bin marked ‘games’, he opens it, the smell of old cardboard wafting out. He grabs a box, and nearly jumps when he hears a whisper.

“Hello?” Orange whips around, thinking he’ll see one of the guys at the top of the stairs, “Did one of you say something?”

Silence.

Cold sweat dripping down his back, Orange grabs the game, and does everything in his power to not sprint up the stairs. At the top, throwing the door open, he hears the tail-end of a conversation.

“We’re not-” Brown starts.

“It’s not like-” Pink says at the same time.

“Found something!” Orange catches his breath. Realizes he never properly looked at his pick, “Er- Trivial Pursuit? Yeah.” A totally not nervous laugh, “Sorry, couldn’t find Clue down there.” he looks at White, who gets the joke, and just tries to focus on him, like the older man is a lifeline.

“Great, didn’t think it could be worse.” Pink quips, and Orange is completely lost.

To the surprise of most, Black elects to sleep out in the car, and maybe White was right about that being the better option. Blue seconds it, being able to sleep anywhere, really, and Pink attempts to be polite, asking Orange if he can sleep in his car. Unlocking the doors, but keeping the keys, Orange does, and just hopes the guy doesn’t know how to hotwire stuff, or at least chooses not to.

Red and Blonde claim the main bedroom, and Orange shouldn’t be that surprised; the two are obviously together, even if the big guy’s weirdly quiet. Orange is about to say he’ll take the couch, when Brown’s already there, blanket and all, fast asleep. It doesn’t feel right, like Orange really got a certain notion in his head that the only way he can be a good host is by doing what his Uncle would do. And, again, when things get confusing, there’s White as a lovely distraction.

The two of them end up crashing in the guest bedroom, what was usually reserved for Orange. Thankfully, the mattress a full,

(White and Orange talk, Orange shares memories about Uncle Matt, and White feels guilty. Tell Orange his version of the truth. The realization that Orange knows about the robbery down in LA, and how he detests the LAPD specifically, come up. That there’s a few good ones, but they’re kept in the dark about the important stuff. White asks if Orange is ‘one of them’, the latter saying no. When trying to press further, they hear a scream. Rush out of the living room and see Brown sitting up, looking terrified. He stares back at them, including Red and Blonde, and says, “That wasn’t you?” pointing to Orange)

Draft Two, because draft one is both too similar to NMO and is lacking a certain pizzazz:

Keep the first few paragraphs the same. Have Larry and Freddy have their meet-cute. Larry gives the name ‘White’ and that’s it, both assuming they won’t see each other again, both regretting not jumping at the chance.

The robbers get to the cabin, and Freddy hangs out in town an extra day, because he’s further putting off the checking up of the cabin. Thus, we get the guys in a much looser, more natural environment, where they get to freely share their names/talk about their plans with their cuts. Cutesy shit ensues. Eddie and Vic, established couple, claim the master bedroom. Brown and Pink (Dennis and Mark?) cautiously claim the spare, being real hot for each other, but not wanting the others to necessarily see. Blue and Joe crash in the car, because Joe doesn’t wanna hear his son fucking, and Blue is over it, too. There’s not really room left for Larry, and Joe snores, and he can at least get a room between himself and the horndogs. This is where he starts to think of the missed opportunity of the cute twink at the gas station.

Mid morning the following day, and the group gets quite the surprise; a car pulling up out front. See, the robbers hid their car out back, and even went so far as to cover it with dead branches (maybe not), so Freddy doesn’t see that anyone’s ‘home’. He’s spotted, and there’s a couple of the guys waiting behind the door, gun in Freddy’s face before he can even blink.

They can’t get a word out before Freddy confusedly says, “Mr. White?” and a short version of the gas station is recalled, “What are you doing in my place?” “Your place? This thing’s abandoned.” “I might not have been here for a while, but it’s my cabin.” “Say I believe you (could be Eddie or Joe talking) why show up here, now?” “Because I’d been getting calls about disturbances at my place. Finally got the time to come up here and deal with it.” Brown voices, “You mean what the locals say are ghosts?” “Yeah, but I guess it was just you guys, right? Look, I don’t care if you’re squatters, we all gotta make it however we can, but maybe don’t wreck the place?” “You assume I believe any of that shit.”

[how my fics tend to go is that I have an outline, but will wing the details, some of the more interesting stuff I've come across being the result of improv. And, sometimes it just doesn't fit, or things progress too quickly/slowly. In this case, it was too quickly, and we didn't get a chance to get to know the characters before they clammed up, again.]

[Freddy noting how different the basement feels is a hint about how the room got renovated and rearranged for 'reasons']

#reservoir dogs #fanfic #writers #writing #behind the scenes #extras #nerdy shit

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