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summercreolefanfictioner · 2 years

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(would’ve asked you in private but we’re having a very important convo about your dog and i just can’t take a break from that) gil to me seems like someone who like warmer climates, france seems warm to me tbh and i can also picture im in the south of france most of the time and of my girl dev sets foot in the human world for someone other than business, you’ll literally find her in the most far away place in scotland where it’s cold and rainy and cloudy and i was curious, if my hc about gilbert liking warm climates how would he view spending a holiday with devyn in scotland?

you make me write abt gil and dev in ungodly hours haha

you've never been to heaven, have you? || autumn dates with devyn

characters: gilbert feinze, devyn kang (feat. aurora and karlheinz)

tw: mentions of sex

-it's safe to say that gilbert is not a fan of colder climates, but it wasn't like he despised it either; but hey at least scotland is not a fvcking scorching summer ground

-so yeah he still followed our darling devyn there bcos boy was so lovesick and he needed answers after their slowburn moment of almost kissing in the one ball

-the night where gilbert was sure something did happen between them

-so when he showed up at her doorsteps, dressed in his high-fashion winter outfit looking like a mafia winter playboy magazine cover of Chanel, devyn almost shut the door in his face, her face red as a tomato as she couldn't believe that he flew all this way to follow her

-and all for that one reason she's trying to avoid

-"I told you not to follow me."

-"I didn't follow you, darling Devyn. I came here after you. If I followed you, then I should've been here the day you arrived."

-devyn swore she wanted to wipe off that shit-eating grin from his face and kick him out so he can bury himself in the snow, but at the same time, she supposes a company from a friend won't hurt

-so yeah she just let him be. besides gil was even helping her out like serving her coffee or arranging some of her paperworks so she can be quickly done. would even feed the dog for her

-even cooks for her bcos devyn is not aware of lunch hours until her stomach started growling out of nowhere

-yes i do the cooking yes i do the cleaning

-he was even helping her find solutions on some of the problems for karl's projects, so let's say there's a dispute between a mining company and an agriculture organization, he will provide a different angle so devyn can formulate an arrangement

-how nice, she thinks, it's like the same old times

-nah it wasn't the same bcos sometimes she would catch him looking at her like she was the most magnificent piece of abstract art

-so once she was done with her work (mind you, she stayed up all night), she spotted gilbert already cozying up on the couch, wrapped in one of her spare thick blankets bcos he can't fvcking stand too much cold

-devyn approached him, carefully shaking him while saying, "you can sleep on my bed, it's far larger" (yeah bcos man is so tall I swear)

-"Are you inviting me for sex?"

-"W-wha—I AM NOT!"

-"Then don't casually offer that suggestion, or I might not be able to control myself."

-so devyn went back to her room and slept, convincing herself that everything is like how they should be, sleeping and hoping to travel in good dreams

-however, all she could see was darkness and despair, flashes of lighting and a huge wave of flood rushing towards her until she saw her beloved and precious aurora giving up every fiber of being she has, chanting devyn's name like a song

-and then she drowned and was never to be seen again. devyn was overcomed with grief as she tried to rescue her

-but no, she saw karlheinz drowning aurora even further, making sure this will be her last breath so she wouldn't be able to touch devyn again. he was smirking evilly as if to say everything played right under his palm

-and that's when devyn woke up with a start, with gil knocking on her door and asking her if something bad happened

-she quickly jumped out of the bed, opening the door and hugging gil as if to tell herself that someone she loves was still alive and untouched by karl, her tears staining his shirt as she cried on his chest

-when gil finally felt her calming down from her heightened emotions, he took her to bed and made sure she was warm and comfy surrounded by blankets

-"I'll go now, darling Devyn. You need sleep because you still have work— "

-but she won't let go, grabbing him by the wrist as she desperately whispered, "Please don't leave. Stay. Stay with me."

-"I'm not going anywhere. I'll leave Scotland the same day you are."

-No!" she almost cried, her eyes glassy with tear stains on her cheeks. "Not that... just... don't leave me here. I... I need you."

-and she kept repeating to him

-"I need you."

-"I NEED YOU."

-he grabbed her shoulders and made her look at him seriously.

-"Listen, Devyn. I will do anything you want me to do for you, and that's how much I'm willing to go. However, once this happens, there's no turning back. We'll be risking everything, even our lives, just for this. Are you sure this is the way you want to die?"

-she nodded, desperate to be in his arms

-and afterward, everything was a hazy blur of needy kisses, hot whispers, tangled limbs, and devotions of love and passion

-they were in heaven... for now

-because this sinful affair will lead them to hell after

#diahell #diabolik lovers #diabolik lovers headcanons #diabolik lovers oc #dl oc #diabolik oc #diabolik lovers imagine #diabolik lovers scenario #gilbert feinze #devyn kang #kang devyn #karlheinz #diabolik lovers karlheinz #karlheinz sakamaki #tougo sakamaki #aurora

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myelocin · 4 years

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infinity times infinity | matsukawa i.

synopsis: issei feels the kind of familiar where you know you’ve loved him in your lives before this, but it’s in this life and in this moment where you realize you don’t want to forget and start over again.

characters: matsukawa issei, you

genre: hurt/comfort, reincarnation!sortofau lol, smidge of angst, i guess some fluff bcos yall cuddle

wc: 2000+

a/n: saturn, by sleeping at last is the song that’s been on repeat and this piece is heavily inspired by that song. please listen to it, it’s worth it. i yacked this piece out last night when i was crying and in a weird mood lol. @/kate, this is for our brainrot ab the song last night ;w;

“how rare and beautiful it is to even exist,” are the words that loop in your head over and over again every time issei holds your hand under the night sky.

you think of how the space around you feels like a pool of nothing. like you’re suspended in a void of just whatever nothing was made out of. even if in the back of your mind you’re aware of how issei’s car is parked some distance away from where you lay on your backs, side by side as the night sky above watches you. you’re aware about how his grandmother’s house is only a few streets away from this space of temporary nothing—but somehow when you look up, then around the space that still looks like just a void, the moment feels still.

so even as you begin to feel yourself drift up with the stars, the moon’s pull sounding like the siren’s song you’ve been warned all your life to never drift towards—earth’s gravity manifests in the form of a boy whose hands are warm like the sun.

“what time is it?” you know you should probably ask, because the lights from the houses in the distance are dim by now.

issei next to you can hear the unspoken question, so he smiles as he reads you, but ultimately chooses to not answer either way.

“how have you been feeling?” is what he voices out instead, and when you don’t turn your head to face him, issei shifts to his side and turns to look at you instead.

saturn, he thinks. he thinks he sees the rings of saturn swirl around your eyes. but when he squints and tries to look closer, issei can only smile more when he sees the stars from above reflect in the depth of your irises—looking more like twinkling fireflies instead of the balls of fire that could very well give life.

and stars, issei smiles. probably the most heartbreaking metaphor the universe could offer. the lights in the sky that’s probably live longer than he; coming from stars that are long gone—their very essence scattered across the dark space of a universe who can’t be known of whether it is kind or cruel.

“how do you want me to answer that?” you reply that comes in the form of a question, the corners of your lips quirking up into a smile.

then when you blink, a gleam of light from above is caught in your eye before you turn to face him, the traces of it quickly swallowed back into the depths as you turn from the light. black holes, issei recalls.

he thinks that tonight you reminded him a little bit like the universe. and because the universe witnessed nothing but truth as humanity thrived and evolved under its watch, he opens his mouth as he asks you for your truth.

“just answer it however you want to answer it.”

“i feel like every time i look at the sky, i’m only reminded of how much of a flicker we only are,” is your truth that you whisper to him. and much like the listening ears of the void, issei stays still next to you, but lets his presence be known through his silence.

but in his silence, you find safety, so you look up at the sky again and continue.

“i think about this life, the past, and the next. maybe i knew and loved you in the life before this, maybe i didn’t. maybe i loved someone else as much as i love you now, issei. and it always trips me up because what if that’s the grand plan for us after this life. what if we’re only meant to love each other in this life and only get to brush shoulders a couple of times as strangers in every life after this?”

“i don’t want to forget you, issei,” you whisper as you finish confessing the truth that’s weighed heavy on you.

beside you, issei exhales and looks at the sky. at the moon whose phase he can’t quite recall the name of and like its gravity that gently pulled you—he felt himself rise to the sky with his emotions.

he knows that something inside him aches—has ached— but for as long as he felt it he could never find a name for it. your hand, a little cold in his, shakes, and just like that issei knows that the storm inside you is raging at its greatest speed.

“i think of the lady down the street all the time too, you know?” he hears you speak again.

he hums, squeezing your hand motioning for you to continue.

“when she used to give me cookies during the holidays, i’d always say thank you to her and to who she could have been before because every time i eat what she makes, it tastes like i’ve had it before. i know no one in the house really had time to bake, but that auntie felt like an old friend. “

“but then again, even if that was the case, who she was in this life is who is in my memories. i didn’t like her because i felt like i knew her, but i did because i got to know her. in this life.”

you pause to exhale. shaky, issei notes, like the almost unnoticeable tremble of your hands. he knows that if he were just to loosen his hands in the slightest, that he would miss it. but because he is still next to you, still like the void that listens to the very universe that cradles and destroys galaxies whisper its truth over and over again, he still hears you.

“i feel like i’ve known you for lifetimes,” you say as you finally turn to face him, cradling his face in the palm of your hands. your breath hitches because every time issei looks at you—you know that he sees you. he’s always understood you. always made the madness in your head and scattered bursts of emotions in your heart make sense even if in reality it’s anything but fluid.

like scattered light, you think. the sparks you see during the new year that build and build and build until it bursts.

then when it scatters, the feeling that comes to you is one that you understand despite the lack of words to frame it with.

“we probably have,” you hear him reply, softly. kindly. in honesty.

but the rage in your heart doesn’t succumb to the call of silence. because like scattered light, it’s in this lifetime where the epiphany hits you that you love him with an intensity as such. you know the fireworks are beautiful and are only in the sky to be seen by your eyes, but much like the stars you know that even if the remnants of their light remains for the shortest while—they, themselves, will cease to exist.

and the fact that you don’t know where they would go after is what terrifies you the most.

“i don’t wanna chase you again and again and forget this,” you whisper.

“us,” you continue.

“matsukawa issei is the name of the man i love in this lifetime and i don’t want you to become just familiar,” you cry.

“i don’t want us to just be stars,” you finish.

your truth, issei begins to think, is what sparks questions for him. for as long as you tried to explain the infinite, he has always just listened.

the void.

where weightlessness was the constant he felt when he was with you. the kind that’s in between space and earth; where he’s caught in a trance when he’s with you until he eventually drifts too close to the edge until gravity starts to take hold and pull.

but even as issei hurdles towards earth, his speed too unprecedented that it comes to a point where he’s confused of whether he’s diving or soaring—in the midst of its chaos, issei only knows peace. because whether he looks up at the sky or down where he’s meant to land, the black of the sky and the inked navy of the ocean looks the same.

do we soar to the stars or dive headfirst into the ocean? is the question he thinks of, and just like that the infinite remains unanswered.

“the inevitable is something that will never be in our hands to change,” issei replies instead, his voice hushed.

and he knows you hear him because just like that, you tremble in his hands and cry at fate’s truth.

“to think that i have loved you, am loving you, and will be loving you, i think is really the universe’s only way of being forgiving,” you hear issei mumble, as your heart clenches even further.

the scattered lights are back, you notice. you see them vivid behind your eyelids as you press the heels of your palm to your eyes to fight back the tears. the words you wish to say come in pieces of letters instead of coherent sentences while the feeling in your heart feels like it’s already at its peak.

looking at issei, you scramble for a sense of fluidity so you can capture your thoughts and lay them out as how you feel them—but your mouth comes dry.

and like the simplest lullaby that never failed to hum you to sleep, issei’s voice chimes: “how rare and beautiful it is to even just exist.”

“in this moment, in this very second we’re in the same life and loving each other with names we’ve come to know.”

and because you’ve always thought that the listening void deserved the greatest honors, before you could even allow it, your heart calms as the puzzle pieces snap in place.

“do you really think that the universe is still forgiving? despite it making us chase each other in different lifetimes with different faces and names every single time?” you ask, looking for comfort in his truth.

“your soul remains,” issei says, the twinkle in his eyes looking like stars.

“i love you by your soul, and not your name, and neither the universe or fate could ever take that away from us,” he finishes.

you decide that the stars you see in his eyes are those who are still alive.

“are you certain? that the universe won’t take that away from us?” you ask, exhaling your truth as a question instead of a confession.

“could we ever truly be certain?” issei replies, not really knowing the answer himself.

earth’s gravity reminds him of its presence when issei turns to look at you and sees the hem of your sweater fall onto the blades of grass. and for what it’s worth, it brings him comfort; it reminds him that despite the uncertainties and cruelty of fate, the universe’s mercy also exists.

where you and him with the souls that probably have loved again and again, in the moment exist together under the stars.

the truth you hold is one that speaks of an unsourced ache.

and though shrouded in mystery, as you turn to look at him and offer him a smile where he knows he may have just seen in this life but found a familiar refuge in from his soul—issei can never deny the beauty the universe holds when it comes to exhale its truth.

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ennui-gt · 3 years

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Here it is. A Piece Of Borrower Content Written Entirely In Stream Of Consciousness:

AN: so this is incomplete and very…needs revisions to the timeline to incorporate some things I added later! It’s the original universe that Mira’s from! I edited it like Slightly to just change Ross’s name to Ross (if u see Max anywhere that’s his old one I just felt like changing it so that’s just him but different. Anyway) Everything's under the readmore tab, cheers!

The Library Fairy:

Basic Plot (Chrono, comic starts from human perspective abt the ‘legend of the library fairy’ ig maybe. Nothing here is permanent cept the characterization)

Part A

1- Mira is borrower currently chillin in a college library

2- She lives off of the cafe on the second floor nd reads lots and lots of stuff about everything when the upper floors close (lower floor open 24/7 but upper floors r vacant p much after 12:00 AM)

3- she starts getting increasingly curious about human stuff cos she’s literate nd books r pry neat

4- it starts one night when she spots an unattended notebook and a half eaten blueberry muffin, nd it’s 12:30 so nobody’s coming back in atm (it’s the 80s so no laptops for the plebians quite yet)

5- so she goes ‘welp’ nd takes part of the muffin, then sees the work on the page and goes ‘hmmmm this is incorrect’ so she helps our and leaves notes here n there to point the kid in the right direction and puts down some book refs for further study bcos at this point she’s been there for 2 years and she knows where most things are

6- she stays behind to see if the human comes back for it, hidden in a hidey hole near the desk

7- human comes in, sees notebook, practically melts w relief nd stuffs it in his bag

8- next day human comes back nd leaves nother notebook and a cookie, along w a hidden camera

9- Mira goes ‘o boy, this a trap, innit’

10- Mira then decides ‘eh whatever I haven’t had contact w anyone in years now so I might as well’

11- she steals the camera film nd leaves a lil scrap of paper saying ‘nice try ;)’ on it

12- student comes back, sees paper, goes ‘dammit’, then leaves note addressed to the ‘library fairy’ and another cookie, as well as more of their work for her to help with

13- bout a decade goes by and now the “Library Fairy” is an urban myth, it’s currently 2003 so she’s also wound up on the school’s unofficial Wikipedia page under ‘local cryptids’

14- most library employees know of her but they don’t go looking out of fear stemming from superstitions bout her, somehow the legend grew from ‘can’t be photographed’ to ‘a student once saw her and died that day’

15- there’s now a small shrine devoted to her where ppl bring offerings hoping to get good grades in return, sometimes they will leave papers for her to proofread nd stuff

16- new prof (named Alexei) finds online article thinks he Knows What’s Up bcos he had a borrower friend as a kid, but they left when borrower’s fam found out about them knowing each other

17- he leaves note wedged in one of her secret entrances behind outlet, asking if she can meet w him at some point

18- Mira, already In it, goes ‘Okay. Alright. This has gone on for long enough. Time to go and never return’ but ofc she’s curious as all hell and like she decides she will at least honor the guy’s request for a convo b4 she goes, but on her terms and w/o speaking face 2 face

19- they Talk in the library after hours, bcos he paid off the janitor to let him stay after hours nd most of the student employees recognize him as a prof nd leave him alone

20- they talk again for every subsequent night

21- she uhhhh finally decides to reveal herself nd prays that her hunch was right nd he won’t try to grab her or anything

22- he doesn’t but she’s nervous so she winds up gettin caught in her own climbing rope like idiot, is now dangling from ceiling in tangled mess

23- he stifles chuckle nd she says smthn sarcastic

24- he moves closer and offers to untangle her

25- she’s like ‘please’

26- so he do, but her grip on the rope slips nd he has to catch her

26- so now she’s in his hand and he just sets her down and now he’s a bumbling embarrassed mess bcos he said he wasn’t going to hold her and he just did and o dear pls forgib him

28- nd she’s like ‘dude u just saved my life it’s fine ur fine chill’

29- internally she’s going HOLY FUCK AAAAAAA but externally, her human’s already worked up enough as it is so she’s gotta b the level headed one

29.5- after a while they both kinda get used to each other more, he gets tenure, they celebrate, some more stuff happens, Aleksei got married (not to Mira, Mira hasn’t actually rly thought about being in a relationship w anyone cos she’s laser focused on gaining as much knowledge as possible)

30- eventually Alexei’s like ‘hey so I’m dean of faculty for the biotech branch now uhhhh would u like actual job teaching students? Cos, uh, you can do it remotely thru online lectures n stuff, no in person interaction, and I uh was just kinda wondering—‘

31- she’s like ‘yes. Yes!!! LET ME HELP PEOPLE OFFICIALLY KINDA’

32- so now she’s a professor, and has revealed her Secret a few times here n there to a number of the faculty, nd she has recorded her own findings in a personal journal

33- ‘humans will treat u like a human if they think ur human first. The kids call it ‘catfishing’’

34- enter Ross, an mall goth who accidentally tripped headfirst into a premed program

35- Mira’s favorite field of study is bio so naturally she’s his prof for a majority of his classes

36- being the good boy that he is, he now knows Mira’s secret. There is an Entire Chapter on him finding out and legit just continuing their conversation as if everything was normal bcos he thought that was how he was supposed to handle the situation

37- then she says ‘u can ask questions, u know’ he’s like OH THANK FUCK CAUSE I HAVE SEVEN HUNDRED OF THOSE

38- and now he kinda knows what to look for in terms of ‘do borrowers live here check yes or no’

39-in his apartment, the answer is yes and he mistakenly kinda stumbles upon the mom one night when he wakes up in the middle of the night for Snack and opts to pretend like its not happening. Unfortunately the thing she was trying 2 borrow (piece of crumb cake for Son Boy’s birthday) is the thing he wants 2 eat so he’s like “uh. ‘Scuse me, ma’am.” and he peels back the saran wrap on the other side of the plate, takes piece, nd then leaves some there for her

40-so now the woman is like ‘welp guess it time 2 Leave’

.1- she and husband Talk

.2-they decide it best 2 go

.3-theyre Packing

.4-lil bab Ellie confused

.5-hawk attacke

.6-cut to Ross

41- Ross also happens to work at a bar and he goes outside for a break

43- he finds smal child—smol smal—on the sidewalk and said child is missing an arm, nd has lost a lot of blood, so he’s uhhhhh Losing It highkey

43.5-parents r nowhere 2 b seen, but the hawk is nearby and circling. Ross gets an idea of what just happened

44- he up and leaves work, thankfully his apartment is above the shop so he jumps up the fire escape w the child and

45- he make tourniquet

46- he calls Mira nd asks her 2 come over to ASAP. he’s A Mess at this point

47- it is Very touch and go, kid needs blood, Mira is the only viable donor so she’s just gotta pray that the blood type is fine and won’t kill him

48- and then eventually they manage 2 stave infection thru antibiotics properly dosed to his size, Mira does Math and Prays basically

49- ‘bout a month in, kid wakes up

50- kid doesn’t rember much since he’s only 3

51- hes v scared of Ross at first but over time he gets used 2 the human

52- kid (elliot) starts 2 call Ross ‘dad’ after a while

53- Ross: *internal screaming but in a good way*

54- the end kinda for now

Part 2

A- New Borrowers In The Building

—three of em. paranoid dad, mom, nd daughter that’s Elliot’s age so he’s pumped

B- Elliot offers them a place 2 stay briefly

C- he knows by now bout like, how borrowers don’t typically interact w humans and Auntie Mira’s a bit of a weird case so he just doesn’t tell em bout his dad being the human

D- the kid finds out first nd doesn’t tell the parents, but they figure it out later kinda and think that it’s a ‘o god he’s being kept as a pet’ sitch so they’re >:| abt it

E- they move out and try to take Elliot w them (by force bcos they think he’s brainwashed) but he escapes and makes it to Ross, who’s like “uhhhhhh”

F- and the mom come out the hole near the counter n starts yelling at Ross, who is…kinda used to it since Mira brings in ppl who need help from time 2 time and they typically don’t react well when they’re lucid enough to understand what’s going on. He’s just not used to being questioned about his own kid

G- so they’re like “WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING WITH HIM”

H- and he’s like “r…raising him???”

I- and Ellie steps up and he’s like “this is my dad. I decided he was my dad when I was three. He’s being a good parent”

J- and Ross is like “yeah what he said. I’m a good parent.”

K- Ross is riding that high til the end of fucking time but like back to the story at hand

L- this is when the husband comes out nd is like “lissen. wifey. ily but that is a very big human and he hasn’t grabbed us yet so let’s count our blessings and gtfo”

M- but she’s like “uh no we stay until I’m sure Elliot is Safe and fucking Sound”

N- so they stay for dinner nd stick around a little longer.

O- Val (the kid) gets closer 2 Elliot and also Ross a bit

P- Mira shows once or twice, first time she shows up they’re like “oh god it’s the crazy doctor lady this all makes sense now” (bcos Mira does check up on as many borrower families as possible in her free time so word has got around by now Of her, and the number by which to contact her in case her services r needed)

Q- After a month or so, then they decide to leave bcos they’re like “look we get that ur son is ur son and he only has one arm and in our profession that is kind of a death sentence but we can’t have our kid getting used to dealing w humans who know about our existence” so they go and leave on a kind of sour note bcos Ellie can do anything he wants to do just as well as any other borrower Thank You Very Much and Ross is ready to fite anyone who thinks otherwise

R- Elliot starts trying 2 b more independent, basically from now on he’s like ‘I can do everything my Damn Self Thanks’

S- but uh he does it to a point where he’s going out of the way to endanger himself

T- so they get into a fite about it and ross Yells and Elliot is like ‘kthxbye’

U- and the boi just. Fuckin bolts. Runs Away. Ross is a Mess, he starts smoking again (he quit cold turkey the day he took Elliot in) to curb the depression, he’s jus. Not doin good, worried that his son is dead and the last time they talked it’d ended badly

V- FREEDOM!!!1! Except Ellie doesn’t kno how to take care of himself so it’s a rough month or so and then he runs into some other borrowers livin in their own town in the wild ig, chillin, being hella independent, and he’s like “uh yes ofc I will join u, I was w my dad for a while but.........” he neither confirms nor denies that his dad’s dead but everyone kinda just assumes.

Part 3

W-anyway a year goes by and then the borrower group gets hit hard w some kind of sickness ig. Elliot gets it too he’s basically incapacitated n drifting in and out of lucidity. So. They contact the weird crazy doctor lady who hangs around humans, a.k.a. Mira, and she’s like “oh. fuck. I know this kid.” bcos she does, u kno, and she jus treats em all for their ailment and shows them how to make antibiotic poultice thing in case smthn like it happens again. Mold. Penicillin is basically what it is

X-she and Elliot hav a Chat (Mira basically yells at him a lot) once he’s fixed up and he decides he’s gonna visit his dad but he makes it very clear that he is a Grown Up (he’s not, he’s literally sixteen), and he is living on his own now

Y- he agrees to stay for a week tho since he misses his home a lot tbh and Ross is just. Over the fucking moon to know he’s ALIVE, he’s not gonna fuck up their relationship by insisting that he stay. Or like, by keeping him ofc he would never

Z- unfortunately the borrower community put two and two together and figured out his dad’s human so they have his stuff packed up when he gets back w mira, who’s ready to go the fuck off on them

End 1:

-Ellie is living at Ross’s place atm and hopeful about the future basically. He eventually will go off on his own but he’ll keep in contact w his dad and stuff

Part C.5

55- few yrs later

56- elliot is Adult now he does adult borrower stuff

57- he moves out

58- finds nice borrower gf (her name’s Tess)

59- doesn’t tell her about his dad being human but talks about his dad a LOT

60- so when she asks to meet said father he’s just like “uh. Maybe we don’t do that actually”

61- and she’s like “y tho”

62- and he’s like “bcos”

63- anyway she decides to look into it cos she knows he goes to see his dad nd keep in touch but his dad is allegedly “a recluse who lives in the big scary human’s walls to avoid other ppl”

64- which is. Not true in the slightest tbqh he’s def not an introvert he’s just a workaholic and he Is the big scary human

65- anywho they run into Val and her wife and she’s like “how’s Ross been?” And Elliot is acting Very Suspish so she, being Smart, calls it immediately and is like “oh shit u haven’t told her yet have u”

66- Tess: “told me what”

67- Val: “El’s dad is a human, bro.”

68- Tess: “I’m sorry?”

69- this results in a Big Fight and they separate for like, a month. Elliot blames Val bcos he’s being irrational and doesn’t wanna admit to the fact that lying to his girlfriend for over a year was Real Bad Actually, but over time he’s like ‘yeah it’s my fault sry for snapping at u’ cos he works thru his emotions n stuff

70- Eventually gf comes back cos she’s like “ok so. I understand why you lied to me about your dad. It was a dick move but I do get it and I still care about you a lot. I would like. To meet him.”

80- this is a lie she does not want to meet him she is doing this bcos she does not want to lose Elliot and that outweighs the fear of his dad

81- so they go to meet him but she’s just kinda. Behind the wall at first like “that’s a crazy big human this is crazy ur crazy it’s time to gO”

82- Val is also there bcos she hasn’t seen Ross in a while

83- they eventually coax her out of hiding

84- and by that I mean Val picks her up and drags her out into the open by force bcos she basically freezes up the second she catches sight of Ross and Val’s like “u didn’t come all this way for nothing, bich”

85- they have a Painfully Awkward First Meeting, Tess is trying her best but oh god he’s just too fucking. Larg. Ellie ur dad too big

86- tbh tho the ice kinda breaks after Ellie and Ross get into a fight over smthn stupid (im thinking Elliot grumbles bout Ross’s hair being unruly and he’s worried that mira’s using it like a personal storage system again and Ross is like “I’ve been keeping better track of that actually” and then like a little line of paper clips and a few hand-bound notebooks tied together w some string fall out of his fucking mane and he’s like “I can explain”

87- “dad you can’t keep letting her use your hair like a fucking NEST”

88- Tess is laughing now cos god damn this was not what she was expecting

89- that’s it the end it ends w Tess laughing at them being idiots good times r had by all

Uhhhh that’s it so far. I have More but it’s kinda jumbled rn and I need to fit stuff in places. Anyway.

#was gonna make this into a comic lawl #if I like actually manage to get off my ass over the coming weeks I probably will be able to do that! but yeah #also this was once posted b4 and I deleted it but it’s back now say hellow #Library Fairy #oc: Mira #oc: Ross #oc: Elliot #oc: Tess #oc: Val #oc: Alexei #anyway yeah here it is behold #the uhhhhh most slice of life thing I have ever created

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angrylizardjacket · 4 years

Text

too old to trick or treat (too young to die) // charlotte&lola (penny&jupiter)

Summary: Two Halloween costumes Tommy witnesses the creation of, twenty years apart. His cousin’s, and her daughter’s.

A/N: 4001 words. knocked this out in literally 3 hours. okay so The Road Warrior didn’t come out until December of ‘81, and Supergirl didn’t come out until ‘84, but whatever, the timeline has been massaged for a number of reasons, bare with me, suspend your disbelief abt halloween costumes. ANYWAYS this came to me very suddenly and i had to write it. i’ve had enough angst, so have cute charlie & penny halloween moments now instead please and thank you. @misscharlottelee as always owns my heart w/ her characters. also mild sexual references in the first part bcos of mishearing something/misunderstanding a situation.

[ part of the charlotte&lola au of Run to Paradise ]

----

In 1981, Tommy dresses as Mad Max for Halloween; all pulled back hair, and a truly awful attempt at an Australian accent. He’s even butchered a leather jacket he’d found second-hand, much to the rest of the household’s horror. He’s pretty proud, despite Mick telling him to shut up since Tommy refuses to stop using the accent.

Mick’s not wearing a costume, and isn’t going out with the rest of the band and the girls, he’s only here to give his opinions on their costumes, and drink with them until they leave.

Nikki’s made no secret of the fact that he’s going as that guy from A Clockwork Orange, which, okay, is actually surprisingly subdued for his usual going out attire, and Vince would not shut up about the all-white suit he bought to be John Travolta in Saturday Night Fever. Something about both Vince and Nikki in all white makes Tommy think everyone’s going to ask if they’re both the same character, regardless of their various accessories, and they’re both going to be mad as all hell by the end of the night; if he had to hazard a guess, Tommy’s pretty sure he’s going to find it incredibly funny, and Nikki’s going to chase him down The Strip for laughing.

Lola’s had her hair in rollers all day, and came home the other week with a legally obtained, sparkly, black, singlet, which was kind of a big deal when Lola either lives in the bands’ clothes, or steals herself pants that actually fit. Her actual costume, however, is escaping him, right up until Tommy walks into the bathroom, to see Lola, in said singlet, black underwear, and nothing else, sitting patiently while Charlotte diligently applied dark eyeshadow further up lola’s brow than he’d been expecting.

“Frank N Furter?” Tommy asked, pleased and amused, still in his attempt at an Australian accent. Both Charlotte and Lola made a face at that, but Lola confirmed after a beat, lips overdrawn, shiny, a deep berry red. The idea that Lola had ever seen Rocky Horror Picture Show in cinemas enough to dress up as it’s main character was a strangely humanizing idea for the often-seemingly feral roadie.

After a moment, however, Tommy takes in his cousin’s attire; she looks incredibly pretty, of course Charlie’s naturally pretty, but she’d gone out of her way to highlight it tonight. White dress, little tiara atop her head, makeup understated and still somehow glamorous, her hair’s still dark from where she and Lola had died it a few weeks ago in the wake of her split with Duff. Maybe they’d re-dyed it.

“You look pretty, Charlie, who are you meant to be?”

“You know you sound British, right, not Australian?” Charlotte doesn’t look up from where she’s working on Lola’s face.

“Shut up, you don’t even know anyone British,” Tommy counters, nose in the air, “and you haven’t even seen Mad Max, so shut it, you don’t know what an Australian accent sounds like.” And he’s haughty for all of a minute before he’s coming back with, “but seriously, who are you?”

A wicked grin spreads across his cousin’s lips.

“That’s for me to know -”

“- us to know.” Lola corrects quickly.

“Us to know,” Charlotte agrees, “and you to find out.”

Super ominous. Charlotte’s been cagey about her Halloween costume since they’d decided to hit The Strip on Halloween as a group. Usually, Charlotte’s overflowing with excitement about her costume, back in high school, she’d roped him, Vince, and a few of their friends into being the Scooby Gang. She’s been various animals, movie characters, and last year, she’d spent almost a month putting together a truly gorgeous Cinderella costume. For all that she was detailed about her costumes, he’d always known her to play it safe.

But this year she’s been quiet. It’s unusual. Tommy blames Lola entirely.

The girls allow Tommy to stay in the bathroom until Lola’s face is done, and then, instead of leaving, they both demand he get out, closing the door after him, giggling conspiratorially like teenagers.

“What’s their problem?” Nikki asks, attempting to apply eyeliner, though the only reflective surface he had was Mick’s sunglasses, and Mick looked about ready to throw him through a window for getting so close, and so Tommy moves on instinct, snatching the stub of an eyeliner pencil from Nikki’s grip, beckoning him out of Mick’s personal space.

“Not sure; they’re either hooking up, or plotting to kill us,” Tommy muses, trying his hardest to not poke Nikki in the eye.

“Hot?” Nikki sounds like he’s not quite sure about that sentiment himself.

They can hear Lola and Charlotte talking in low voices, indistinctly in the bathroom, and clattering, and then - Take off your fucking heels! - Charlie, loud and nervous, followed by some begrudging grumbling from Lola. Scuffling, more clattering, and grunting.

“They’re definitely hooking up,” Nikki mutters. Tommy’s turning red. He’s not a prude, Christ, not even close, but... Charlie wouldn’t... right? Not when she knew how thin the walls were... Not with Lola, surely!

“Let go of me, I don’t need you to steady me -!” Lola now, and Nikki’s stepping back, laughing at the look on Tommy’s face. He’s not quite sure how he feels about the idea of him and his cousin both having -

“You’re shaking, you’re going to drop it!”

What?

Silence, a few more indistinct, now muttered words, far quieter, far calmer, then - a loud, strange rush of liquid, like the shower being turned on, but much more immediate and shorter.

“Holy shit, dude!” Lola’s yell radiates through the whole house, followed by a loud clatter, like something empty being dropped on the tiles, and Charlotte’s response is too quiet to hear. It’s followed by what is distinctly the sound of the hair dryer, and by now, all three men in the living room are just confused.

Vince finally surfaces from his and Tommy’s room almost ten minutes later, hair appropriately slicked back, white suit impeccable, making a beeline for the fridge, equally confused.

“What the fuck is happening in there?” He asks, joining the other three, currently cutting up lines of coke on a plate, in the living room.

“I still think they’re hooking up,” Nikki says, frowning down, as if the intensity of his gaze will keep his hand from shaking where he’s trying to cut the coke.

“Wishful thinking,” Mick grumbles, sitting back and taking a long sip of his vodka.

“Pretty sure lesbian sex doesn’t involve hairdryers,” Vince has to agree, and Tommy’s frown deepens.

“They’re not -”

“Fuckin’ semantics, man, sex without guys, you know what I meant,” he headed Tommy’s protests off before he could properly speak them, and Tommy’s own frown deepened. Mick looks like he wants to protest, but also knows all three men far to well to have any illusions about the abhorrent range of pornography they had consumed.

The hair dryer turns off.

“You wouldn’t have half a fuckin’ clue about what real lesbian sex was like,” is what Mick chooses, instead, to say, and Vince flips him off, right as the bathroom door bursts open, and Lola, comically wide-eyed, stumbles out, what looks like blood splattered on her shins and thighs, high heels in one hand.

“Holy shit,” she’s gasping, laughing, disbelieving, “you guys are not fucking ready for this,” she’s looking altogether like a delighted Frank N Furter about to reveal and revel in her latest creation. The guys are so caught up in seeing Lola in her costume, that seeing Charlotte coming out after her is like being hit by a train.

She’s covered in blood. Head to toe, apart from her face, which she must have been covering with her hands. Bright right. Face serious and eyes wide and Tommy knows that expression, that look, that blood -

“Carrie!” He exclaims, “Fucking Hell, Charlie!” He announces at the top of his lungs, and Charlotte’s expression cracks to a bright smile, to delight at being recognized.

“It’s paint!” Charlotte announces, giving a spin, and suddenly the hairdryer, the chatter, the confusion made sense.

“Charlotte, you look fucking killer,” Nikki’s got a look in his eyes that reads as both intimidated and turned on, a look usually reserved for Lola, but Charlotte doesn’t seem to notice.

“Peach and Eileen are going to fucking scream,” Lola was absolutely delighted at this prospect, doing a line of coke when Nikki offered it, before pulling on her heels.

Charlotte is beaming, looking cool as hell, and delighted with how the whole costume turned out.

Only later that night will any of the boys discover the murder-scene the girls had left behind in the bathtub in their excitement to hit The Strip. Tommy feels like he’ll never get the image of the blood splattered tub out of his mind.

Which is why he finds it so baffling that he’s blindsided by it exactly twenty one years later.

In 2002, Charlotte’s daughter, Penny, now all of twenty years old, the exact age Charlie had been that iconic Halloween, and Tommy’s kid, Jupiter, eighteen and a half, the pair raised practically as siblings, had been marathoning mostly-trashy horror movies all through the month of October in anticipation for the night itself, and Johnny Hudson’s Halloween party.

Jupiter had announced their intention to dress as Nancy from The Craft for the third year in a row, which ties it with the costume they’d chosen for the three years prior to that, which was Eric Draven, the main character from The Crow.

“Yes, it’s because I have a thing for Fairuza Balk in that movie,” Jupiter had announced defiantly when they’d made their intentions known at a dinner that Lola fortunately had time enough to attend, in between tours.

“That’s how I picked all my Halloween costumes at your age,” Lola had admitted with a shrug, though that just made Tommy frown as he goes to take a sip of his drink -

“Tim Curry as Frank N Furter -?”

“Lola did you go as Frank N Furter one Halloween?” Penny, delighted at the concept, leans forward over her pasta, eyes alight with mirth at the idea, looking so much like her mother that it almost stings. Lola herself has gone red, trying to suppress a smile.

“Tom, that’s not a discussion I want to have right now, but yes,” she says, slight warning in her voice, and Tommy chokes on his drink, both because he doesn’t quite know what she means by that, and because it’s rare for her to call him Tom, but then she’s looking up at Penny, smiling enough that it creases by her eyes, “and yes,” she deliberates, before adding, “I’m pretty sure that was the year your Auntie Eileen surprised everyone and dressed up as Uncle Mick, top hat and all,” Lola said, voice warm and fond at the memory, “he had no clue how to take it, shocked him enough that he actually came out on the town with us; I think it’ll always surprise him when people think he’d be a cool Halloween costume.” And she looks to Jupiter at that, while Jupiter themselves made direct and unwavering eye contact with their own pasta, while Penny nudged them, voice turning teasing, picking up on Lola’s cue, gently ribbing her cousin about the time they’d dressed up as Mick for Halloween, if only to spite the rest of their family.

The conversation moves on, and Tommy thinks fondly of the memory of how bright Charlotte’s smile had been after she’d come out of their bathroom, looking as thought she was covered in blood.

So this year, Tommy’s hit with a strange sense of deja vu in the lead up to Halloween, with Penny being cagey, and obviously in cahoots with his own child.

“Looking badass, as always,” Tommy grins, showing off his cheap, vampire fangs, as he leans in the doorway of his kid’s bedroom. Penny’s applying lip-gloss atop their black lipstick, but gives pauses as they both turn to him, scrutinizing his party-store vampire costume. With his own kids going away for the night, Tommy had been more than happy to host a Halloween party of his own for friends still in the business.

“I feel like you used to put more effort in,” Jupiter says slowly, looking from the too-small, satin cape, back to his face, and Tommy shrugs.

“I guess I could always put on one of my old eighties stage costumes,” he muses, playing like he’s seriously considering it, acting as though he couldn’t see Jupiter and Penny’s expressions both turn horrified, “I’ve still got them somewhere in the back of my closet -”

“Oh Jesus, dad,” Jupiter hisses, “you know we all know too much about how Lola felt about that weird fetish shit you guys would wear on stage, please don’t -”

“It’s not fetish shit, Jup,” but Tommy’s grinning at how embarrassed they both were, “it’s hair metal, it was hip!”

“It’s a red and black leather harness at best, and tights; I’ve seen more conservative outfits at a BDSM dungeon -”

“Dude!” Penny’s eyebrows shot up, and Tommy’s mouth dropped open. Penny, horrified, looked to her uncle; “it was one time-” she says, trying to make things better, but doing the exact opposite right as Jupiter tries to tell him it was a joke. Penny and Jupiter look to each other, both horrified at what the other had said, how it must look.

“Pen!”

“It was Johnny’s idea!” Penny blurted out, and looked to Tommy, as if realising she was digging herself deeper, “we went there as a joke!”

“That part is true,” Jupiter conceded, but Tommy kept his mouth shut, raising his hands in surrender, as if to say ‘that’s your business, as adults, but I’d rather not know’, and he’s quick to leave them to their mutual, horrified bickering.

He hadn’t even thought to ask what Penny was going as. All he knows is that she and Jupiter had been arguing because ‘it’s a trashy movie, Pen’ - ‘I love it, so shut up; you get witch powers from being an angry loner, I get them from being prom queen’ - ‘did we even watch the same movie? That’s not -” - “then just picture the original, you liked the original!’ - ‘oh, I’m past the movie itself, it’s the - they’re both angry loners, Pen,’ - ‘yeah, okay yeah, but it’s a cool aesthetic, Jup, come on -’. That was a few weeks ago, Tommy still isn’t quite sure what it could be, beyond witchy powers. Usually Penny’s costumes were straightforward, or she’d at the very least announce them in advanced...

Tommy finds himself blaming his own, erratic and mischievous child entirely; just as Lola had been known to be a bad influence on Charlie, so too could their children mirror this dynamic almost uncannily.

It only gets stranger when, an hour after doing Jupiter’s makeup, they both seem to be in full costume, and should be ready to go, they’re nowhere to be found, but they haven’t said goodbye.

Penny comes rushing past Tommy in a whirlwind, carrying something bulky in her arms, making a beeline for the downstairs guest bathroom.

“Pen, whaddya got there?” Tommy calls out, and Penny stops dead. She’s in a pretty, white dress, with her hair all done up, and a tiara sitting on top. It’s... familiar.

“Glue?” Penny’s obvious lie has Tommy frowning.

“Glue?” He asks, with a huff of disbelieving laughter. When she swivels towards him, he can see that she’s holding a large, white, pourable bottle, the label of which, Penny is conveniently covering.

“We’re sniffing it?”

“Penny, what the fuck?” Jupiter calls from the bathroom, and Penny takes off at a run, avoiding Tommy’s further questions, and Tommy himself, who, with a sudden nervousness at whatever the real situation was, follows quickly. All he can see is large, clear plastic sheets covering every single surface and every wall, like the lair of a murderer in a movie, and then Jupiter’s face with all it’s dark makeup and sprayed up hair, as they’re apologizing, and slamming the door in his face. He’s pretty sure he read the word blood on somewhere on the bottle that Penny had put down.

“Jupiter Carlotta Lee, I’ve told you before that we don’t fuck with real witchcraft!” Tommy jiggled the handle, but the door was firmly locked, “not after what happened with Nikki and Lita!”

“It’s not witchcraft!” Jupiter calls back, and Tommy can hear Penny groan about how he’s still going to kill them.

“Don’t murder your fuckin’ cousin in there, you hear me?” He jiggles the door handle again, harder this time, not quite sure of what was happening in there, but concerned nonetheless.

“Hey!” Penny shouts back, “why do you think I’m the one getting murdered in here?”

“I was addressing both of you,” Tommy sighed, leaning his forehead against the door, defeated, “what are you doing? What’s so bad that you have to keep me locked out?”

“I’ll tell you when we’re done -”

“Jupiter!”

“It’s messy,” Jupiter explained, and followed it up with a quiet, “okay, get in the bath, take off your shoes,” clearly not aimed at Tommy, before yelling back to him, “I’d rather do it, clean it up, and then beg for forgiveness in that order before you decide whether or not you want to murder us.”

“Are you sure it’s safe to stand up there?” Comes Penny’s soft question to her cousin, followed by a phrase burned into the back of Tommy’s mind, somehow still there after everything it’s been through.

“Let go of me, I don’t need you to steady me -”

And everything clicks into place, the blood, the outfit, the mess -

“Are you pouring fake blood on your cousin right now?!” Tommy’s tone is disbelieving, and he’s met with silence, and then the slow sound of liquid being poured.

“No?” Penny calls back, before spluttering a little, “it’s in my mouth.” She hisses.

“Then close your mouth!” Jupiter hisses back.

“I wasn’t talking to you, Pennylope; Jup?” Tommy squeezes his eyes shut as he remembers exactly how much scrubbing he and the rest of the occupants of the Motley House had to do over the next week, and even then the bathroom was never quite the same.

But he’s met with silence, and then he starts to hear what can only be the excess fake blood dripping into the tub. And then the sound of a much emptier bottle being put on the bench.

“No, I am not currently pouring fake blood on my cousin,” Jupiter announces; Tommy thinks he can feel a headache forming with each moment that passes. There are moments exactly like this one, in which he is reminded that Jupiter is without a doubt his and Lola’s kid, which is both a blessing and a curse.

“Penny, stay in the tub,” he calls, “make sure you wash your feet off once you’re dry; a hairdryer helps it dry faster.”

Despite their confusion at how he would know such a thing, the pair in the bathroom know better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. Tommy, for his part, breathes a sigh of relief; this, at least, he knew how to handle. At least they put more thought into it than Charlotte and Lola had back in the day.

Heading upstairs while they let the fake blood dry, he finds the photo Lola had dug up from her archives in her and Nikki’s garage.

Eileen, Charlotte, Lola, and Peach, all in a row outside the Starwood, all grinning from ear to ear. Eileen as Mick, Lola as Frank N Furter, Peach as Supergirl, and Charlotte, beaming, covered in blood red paint, as Carrie.

By the time he resurfaces from the wave of memories that had overwhelmed him, Tommy gets downstairs to see the guest bathroom door open.

“How messy is it?” He calls, concerned. Jupiter sticks their head out. The hairdryer is still going.

“Not as bad as I thought, should all just wash down the drain; the plastic on the walls was probably overkill,” they admit, and Tommy gives a thin-lipped grin, remembering the splatter that came up to knee height on the walls by the bathtub in the Motley House. Though, to be fair, Lola was simply pouring an entire bucket of thinned house-paint over Charlotte’s head - it was neither Lola nor Charlotte’s brightest idea, in hindsight - Jupiter, with a bottle of screen-grade fake blood from the looks of it, would have a much more controlled pour.

And Penny would definitely have a much easier time getting it off.

When Tommy sees Penny, it’s like looking into a window from the past, the way she’s beaming, pleased and bright and covered in blood, she looks so proud to be horrifying.

“What now?” Penny asks, fond but exasperated, and Tommy snaps out of his thoughts, “what exactly about this,” she gestures to her whole self, blood soaked and standing in the tub, being hairdryed by Jupiter, “reminds you of mom?”

“What do you mean?” Tommy asks, playing dumb, and Penny’s expression softens, but she still rolls her eyes, arms out while Jupiter dries her.

“You get a look in your eye when I do something that reminds you too much of mom, and yeah it’s sweet, but this specifically is a really weird thing to get emotional -”

“This is your mom on Halloween, nineteen-eighty-one,” Tommy holds out the photo so she wouldn’t have to touch it, incase the blood on her hands was still wet, interrupting his niece.

“Oh,” Penny’s voice is so quiet, “for real?” She asks, eyes wide and misty when she looks at Tommy, and he gives a fondly amused look, and nod in response. “I didn’t even know,” Penny gave a quiet, disbelieving laugh, her own gaze turning adoring as she takes in the photo once more.

Jupiter twists to look at the photo, still drying Penny, then looks in the mirror, then back at the photo, and scowls, but keeps quiet about how they’ve just realized, at least in terms of makeup and overall pallet, how similar their costume is to their mother’s. But they’re well aware that this isn’t their moment.

“Did Lola own pants?” Jupiter does mutter, more to themselves than expecting a response, and not getting one anyhow.

“Lola poured a bucket of red paint over her head in the apartment we shared, took five of us a full week to clean it all up after,” Tommy explained to Penny, smiling.

“No wonder you were worried about us doing the same thing,” Penny snorted, and leans in, looking at her mother’s smiling face; almost the same face she sees in the mirror, if not for the blue of her eyes.

“Yeah, but I should have known you two would be smarter about it, much as I love your mom, Jup, when we were young, she wasn’t exactly known for her common sense,” and as Tommy says it, even the quietly resentful Jupiter cracks a smile.

“She looked so cool,” Penny muses, “they all do; that’s Aunt Eileen and Peach, right? The other two?” And Tommy confirms as much, also making sure to note that all four women were always better at Halloween than the rest of the band; in a move that Tommy’s seen Charlotte do a thousand times, Penny rolls her eyes, smirks, and says ‘yeah, obviously’ all smug and amused.

Tommy just smiles, asks if he can take a photo once Penny’s all dry, reminds them to call Lola and Nikki if they need a lift home, and waves goodbye to them when their taxi arrives.

The minute the taxi is off the property, Tommy’s cracking open a beer, and dialing Lola’s number in the minutes before his own guests are due to arrive.

“Lols, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe what just happened.”

#Tommy Lee #tommy lee imagine #tommy lee & oc #the dirt #the dirt imagine #motley crue #motley crue imagine #charlotte&lola #lola & charlotte #the angry lizard speaks

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solasan · 4 years

Note

hey Mollie! i see you've created a new V 👀 what crimes will she commit?

anon i literally cannot express enough how sorry i am that this has taken so long but i FINALLY have verona lore to drop so let’s go thank u for asking abt her i am in deep love with you

(under a cut bcos this will probs get long ??? tw for miscarriage and toxic, somewhat abusive relationships)

her full name is verona vitória guerra valdez but if u heard that no u didnt. she was nicknamed ‘vv’ by an Important Person In Her Life who we’ll get to in a minute, and that just eventually became ‘v’

she is the Definition of be gay do crimes by which i mean shes bisexual and likes explosions

fuck canon she’s not 22 she’s 32 by the time of the game’s events so she was born in 2045. shes a scorpio 😙✌

she wasnt born into the bakkers clan !!! she was actually born into the jodes clan, which is the clan she stayed with until she was in her early twenties

she grew up fiddling with cars and crafting stuff and helping w the guns and stuff so shes very Technically Comfortable. also hotwiring cars eventually became hacking into low-end devices which during the game finally becomes full-blown netrunning hell yeah for her

seriously shes the queen of sneak attacks, stealth, quickhacking, and datamining. love that for her

both her parents are dead rip in pieces. her mom died when she was like three but her dad died when she was nineteen

(he got killed in a raid by some raffen shiv it was all very dramatic and sad. verona did avenge him tho so thats the first time she killed :))

to this day she hates raffen shiv Very Much and im not 100% on her whole moral philosophy on killing bcos i usually just do non-lethal takedowns but she Absolutely Kills The Shit Out Of Them if she comes across them

in 2068 when she was twenty-three she met rafael ibarra, a member of the bakkers clan, on a job that went wrong

(this is the Important Person In Her Life so hello ‘vv’)

they struck up a kinda volatile destructive relationship that largely consisted of bickering and talking shit and lots of smirking and also just. hooking up on every piece of furniture they could find shdjsdlk

they’ve literally shot each other before. love that for them

(also johnny reminds her of rafael at times which she very much Does Not Appreciate shdjskdksd)

anyway about a year into this (2069 haha n*ce), verona falls gregnant (uh oh) and they basically have a shotgun wedding (mistake)

verona joins the bakkers clan, moves in with raf, yada yada yada, neither her nor him are rly content w life but they kinda figure alright well. we gotta be grownups for this fucking kid ig

only no they dont, surprise !!! bcos verona has a miscarriage abt two / three months in during that period when it’s a lil touch-and-go

now neither of them were exactly looking forward to being parents anyway, and actually spending regular time with each other outside of jobs and arguments and sex has proven that actually theyre very badly suited for each other, so in some ways this is a relief

however. they are still married. verona left her whole life for raf and this future that never even happened, so it’s very complicated just. Emotionally.

they spend another two years sort of trying to make it work bcos they just dont know what else to do. things get very toxic and abusive on both sides during this time; lots of things are thrown, lots of nasty shit is said, they’re constantly walking out on each other and then going back

but then after two years (2071, verona’s twenty-six) both of them are just. exhausted. and theyve had enough of each other and this situation. and verona just wants that future she was promised, not so much as in she wants to have a marriage and babies, but just that she wants to have Something, bcos her life has just been a whole lot of nothing these last few years

so she walks out. im not sure if her and raf ever even formally get a divorce or if she just makes a split-second decision one day while she’s driving and never comes home

anyway she ends up taking that smuggling job with jackie as we know and then once they come to night city theyre both super close. she stays at the welles house for the first like year or so; her and mama welles are super close, bcos verona’s never had a mom around really and she just. loves having that figure now

after the first year she’s saved up enough through jobs and also hustling the shit out of gamblers with jackie that she moves out of the welles place. she still comes over every sunday for dinner. mama welles often refers to her as a daughter. jackie has taken on his assigned little brother role with relish

her and jackie spend the next five years working jobs to get by and trying to Make Something Of Themselves. viktor steps in to be verona’s surrogate father so now she has 2 parents hell yeah.

and then that all just eventually leads to the game’s events

thank u anon again ur very sweet for asking abt her im so sorry ive taken so long to answer this shdjskdksk

#anonymous #answered #ch: verona valdez #miscarriage /#abuse ment /

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penny-anna · 4 years

Text

Love Yourself Challenge

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc. ) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

I was tagged by @jaskier-wearing-dresses - thank you! <3

1. sandstorms and hazy dawns

Geralt loves her, his lion, his dæmon. He loves her with every fibre of his being. She comes to him in the night, breath hot against his ear, and says, “can we keep them?”

Geralt wants to keep Jaskier at arm's length. His dæmon has other ideas. Jaskier and his dæmon are made of sterner stuff than they look.

i already talked about this one uhh a lot for the commentary meme so I will not say much but I am so pleased w how this one came out... i love daemon AUs and I like to think I did a good job w Geralt’s voice and characterisation

2. Half a Brick (Or, what comes around)

That Tuesday evening, the world came back into his life in the form of half a brick through his kitchen window.

Gandalf is part of an ancient order of immortal beings sent to earth to prevent interference by certain malevolent forces that ought not to be there. He has bigger problems to deal with than troubled teenagers with a habit of breaking things when they're stressed. He certainly doesn't need to take another child under his wing. Or, Gandalf adopts Pippin.

ok look. LOOK. i love gandalf & pippin’s friendship. i can’t believe there isn’t more fic about them. anyway this one took FOREVER to write and it’s super niche and weird but it was so worth it!! i love modern au pippin.

3. Constellations

"I know how soulmarks work. If a person has two names writ upon them by destiny, then one is to guide them to their true love and the other to their worst enemy. Everyone knows that." / "That’s an old wives’ tale."

When Jaskier was fourteen, two names appeared on his skin: 'Geralt' and 'Yennefer'.

feels a bit cheeky... putting my most recent fic in here... but i love this one very much, had such a good time w it, gave myself emotions.

4. Downpour

They had all afternoon. Sam could see it stretching out before him, sweet and golden. They’d stay in bed till dinner time. They’d talk, and cuddle, and make love again if they felt like it.

i had the idea for this one for... so long. i go back and re-read it a lot bcos it is just so sonft and good.

5. Uncanny

He had travelled far in his life and met many Men and Women whose dæmons were small and often hidden; and he had known some dæmons who preferred to talk only to their Man or Woman, when alone. Both together he had not encountered before, and he found himself unnerved.

this is another idea i sat on for a long time bcos i couldn’t figure out the logistics. there should be more frodo & boromir fics. loved writing a story where Gentian is the star (i love Gentian)

uhh ok who do I know who does fanworks... @herb-acious @thescarletpaperback @rhubarbdreams @a-kind-of-merry-war

#every time i get tagged in one of these i immediately forget the names of every single writer & artist i know

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gotatext · 5 years

Text

hello, its nora (she/her, gmt) n this is the ethereal but spoiled alma olive putnam (she goes by all 3 names cos she’s pretentious as fuck). raised in a farmhouse in vermont, big horse girl energy. very hungry for everything life has to offer. wakes up and smells the success in her blood. luvs the smell of libraries and listening to french music from a tinny record player in knee socks. here is pinterest. bio is below the cut, like this post to be bombarded with plotting messages but i might forget tho so pls message me x

application template.

『ELLE FANNING ❙ CIS-FEMALE』 ⟿ looks like ALMA OLIVE PUTNAM is here for HER JUNIOR year as a CLASSICS student. SHE is 21 years old & known to be RESILIENT, MAGNETIC, CALLOUS & PROUD. They’re living in PERKINS, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ NORA. 24. GMT. SHE/HER.

aesthetics.

a red beret nestled on top of bright platimum locks, neck scarves tied around your throat the way they do it in french new wave films, running barefoot through the woods in feckless hedonism, china dolls with porcelain faces lined against the walls of your room, the mona lisa smile, knee-socks tugged over the hockey grazes on your knees, a forged botticelli drying on your easel, ophelia floating in the middle of a lake.

proceed w caution, tw for death, drugs, alcohol, violence

the short form.

— studying classics cos she thinks it makes her sound smart, but actually hates fuckin latin and just loves learning about feckless hedonism and the festivals of bacchus and writing about how all women in myth are literally forgotten. was expelled from princeton in her first year so her parents basically paid her way into radcliffe but she made an impression.... like... super fast and in her sophomore year she was upgraded to perkins accomodation n a paid scholarship bcos i think the governors kind of expect to see her in the supreme court one day or.

— born in vermont in a big old farmhouse. her great-great-grandfather moved to america as an immigrant and worked on a plantation, made his way up cos he could speak a lot of languages and therefore win more people over. for the last two generations, putnam men have owned the farm and do little of the dirty work. big in the meat industry.

— both her parents had large personalities, so alma’s never really been shy around adults, even as a kid she’d speak to them in a forthright, confident manner, and because she was always surrounded by adults, she’s always seemed a bit wise beyond her years.

— very much a consolidation of every character in the secret history. has a morbid longing for the picturesque at all costs. obsessed with w.h. auden and the beat poets. — ”aestheticism is the only thing worth pursuing and even that is pointless” — is majoring in classical civilisation. can read ancient greek and latin. also speaks french.

— studies hard and plays hard. she gets top marks but it’s because academia is literally her life, she loves the smell of libraries, the ancient smoke of learning, of feeling like old wine in a new bottle reincarnated from the bones of some old, dead witchy woman who invented a cure for cowpox or somethin.

— isn’t a foward-planner, however. alma prefers to leave her options open, play the field, live in a spontaneous manner so her study style is mostly cramming a few days before a test, or staying up all night writing an essay on a massive adrenaline boost powered by red bull or probably adderall, scribbling (or typing) furiously into the night.

— pretentious motherfucker. loves poetry, especially the romantics, loves morbid ones too, edgar allen poe, sylvia plath, allen ginsberg, she just loves them all. can’t get enough. her favourite films are like…. wanky artfilm independent european cinema. especially french new wave. “what do you think of goddard’s work??” while snorting a line off someone’s sink at 5am on a school night, but you can bet she’ll make it to that 9am class. — very intelligent and beautiful and knows both of those facts. plays devil’s advocate. humanitarian, vegan. — judgemental but takes great care not to appear so. petty and vindictive

— obsessively devours mystery and thriller novels. she herself is a gillian flynn book waiting to happen. — tries to be an enigma. wants to be mysterious and unreadable because that’s what books have taught her makes women desirable and interesting and cool. very amy dunne in the way she expertly reinvents herself to suit her audience, when she wants to impress

— act like the flower but be the serpent under it. is a user. manipulative. leads people on. will throw another student under the bus to demonstrate her own intelligence and integrity — heavily involved in the theatre society. loves attention. — has an addictive personality. seems unable to do anything in a small dose, she has to let it utterly consume her. with sports, she’s fiercely competitive, runs track, played lacrosse at school, now is a cheerleader probably. with alcohol, it’s never a shot, it’s a whole bottle – wine or whiskey – she’ll be table dancing before the night’s up and making out with someone she’ll regret in the morning.

— her clothing style is like…. vintage thrift store but make it preppy. berets and cute hats, neck scarves, large fluffy cardigans or like those leathery jackets with big suede fringes on them, mini skirts (very 70s), and knee-high socks or boots. quite often she’ll be in sports kit, maybe a cute tennis skirt, n when she’s feeling casual she’ll wear like, a talking heads tshirt with a pair of mom jeans and converse, but otherwise, the library is her catwalk. — relates to ophelia from hamlet and sibyl vane in dorian gray. weirdly obsessed with women who commit suicide. loves jackson pollock paintings and abstract art. – likes old things. old books, old music, old houses, it reminds her of happier times like when she wasn’t alive. buys all her music on vinyl and has a gramophone because “the sound quality is better” kfdsjj.

plots.

here are some generic wanted plots but by all means message me so we can flesh them out more if any strike ur interest:

study buddies !! someone who is equally unprepared and so spends all night in the library with alma before a big deadline, maybe they even met in the library

if they’re from new england or vermont, then cousins . second cousins / extended family / family friends – probably spat volavons on your character once as children, omg childhood friends !

people who live in perkins n feel like they r constantly competing with one another to keep their place as one of the #elite only know each other from brief interactions in the lift or the canteen

honestly someone who is fully in love with her or crushing on her that she can just break would be sweet :/ or on the other hand someone she unexpectedly gets feelings for and actually wants to guage her own eyeballs out bc of it

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! former best friends separated by sporting or academic rivalries !

hockey / cheer friends who are on other teams but who she absolutely loves playin against!!!

fellow academics who like meeting up to discuss latin and greek ! gimme a secret society bonding by their love of ancient learning

i reckon she’s in a lot of societies, definitely the film club, maybe works as a projectionist at the uni cinema if they have one so give me ppl affiliated with that, give me fellow wanky pretentious art-lovers and poets and historians who will go to museums and galleries with her and listen to the velvet underground on vinyl

people she gets mortally fucked off her tits with at parties

people who think she is throwing her academic potential away by caving to hedonistic impulse

A SECRET SOCIETY !!! honestly i would die for a slug club esque thing in which the children of notable families are invited to dinners OR alma’s also an art forger, so maybe like a club of students set up to basically forge paintings and documents from the university special collections

people she has drunkenly made out with, hooked up with, or regularly sleeps with casually, maybe even a friend w benefits she is repressing feelings for, i love angst,

people she used to date or unrequitedly likes, but to them it’s just a physical thing, give me all the thirsty angst plots, and maybe some softness too, i need some religion in this girls life, she is a roman catholic after all

full biography.

alma olive putnam.

intro.

the girl is a knife. razor-sharp, double-edged, the bright shine of a two-faced, lovely thing. silver like the secrets you magpie thief from other heads. you’re a scavenger of knowledge, of tidbits, of gossip to lock away for later use and late-night re-inspection. a mind is like a clock if you get to learn the pieces. bit by bit, you dismantle the inner workings of the brains that tick around you – how easy it is to change it’s path, how words and their meanings can make a person laugh or cry in an instant. to have the power to control that is to be a god. it’s the power trip you crave wielding pom-poms in your hands; a possessive need for control that a younger you, small and weak, never had as a child. small lips, smaller smile, a doll clutched in your too-hungry fingers, hard enough to shatter the bones of a real infant. you cut your hair with your mother’s kitchen scissors before the autumn falls, rendering you out of season, unfit for the cold weather that beats against the nape of your neck, where a stick-and-poke marks the star you were born under ; the bull. “mama, when will i be a queen?” as soon as they find a crown small enough not to slip from your head.

biography.

if you get hungry enough, they say, you start eating your own heart. hands red, stained by pomegranate seeds, the empty pulp of its shell splattered on your thighs you find yourself wondering – what would it be like to want? in the beginning, you never knew hunger. twins, born under the same star, you first, him second – a nuclear family. never a sister to compete with, you were always the cherry pie of your parents’ hearts. white-haired, blue-eyed, beautiful baby of mine. the townhouse in vermont and the summer house in lyon, you wanted for nought, showered with attention, saddled with gifts - hardly a wonder you came to rely on such affection as a confirmation of your own worth.

at eight years old you first met death, blood on a gingham-print dress, a smear of it over your cheekbone and the pulp of a mangled animal at your feet murdered by the hands of a stable boy. “alma, my precious baby, you get away from that filth,” your mama would cry from the upstairs balcony – cigar in one hand and a bloody mary in the other – though whether the filth she referred to was the dead pig or the boy with a kernel of corn in his mouth, you never did find out.

your family earned their keeps in farming, great-grandfather wolfgang hildegarde a german immigrant, great-grandmother maura lisbon a prairie girl. they fell hopelessly in love between troughs and pig-shit, working for three dollars a day at a farm their descendants would later own, trade deals with the indians, vacations to calcutta, your father todd putnam in the kind of sheepskin coat his father’s father could only dream of owning. he worked hard so that you’d never have to. your mama once asked – you heard it through the window, rounding cartwheels across the picket-fenced lawn – could he not find a respectable career rather than selling shrink-wrapped pork for a dime a dozen? that blood money had no business raising a child. you look far back enough, edie, your father had said in his low, strong voice that could bring a civil war to silence, and i think you’ll find that all money is blood money.

language was never fickle on your tongue, french dinner time talk by the time you were out of your hush puppy shoes, your mama fixing the au pair a smile as she fixed herself another martini. you learned the clarinet at four and how to dance with the grace of a swansong at six, ethereal under a spotlight, an audience captive in the palm of your hand. by eight you knew that you’d always been destined to be loved. loved so hard they would want to taste you, bite into the soft plump of your cheek and eat you alive. that was how magnetic you wanted to feel. but mother hamsters eat their own young when penned in together too long, and soon you became too wild, too restless, another package on your father’s delivery invoice, box-shipped out to english boarding school.

fitting in had never been something you had to concern yourself with. you were always the shiny new toy the other girls wanted to play with, bright like a dropped coin from a magpie’s beak. wherever you went, you seemed to leave a trail of awe, pig-tailed harriet’s adoring you, imitating you, teachers forgiving your class-time chatter for the sake of your wild heart and the restless spirit you possessed. tell us what it’s like in the states, alma. they’d coo, enamoured by your hollywood drawl. does your father own a gun? you hardly knew. barely even knew the colour of his hair, for the scarce amount of times he’d stoop to kiss your cheek, though you’d tell silver-tongued tales if it’d guaranteed you an audience. when you learned how to smile at the right times, and that flattery would get you everywhere, it soon became apparent that charm would pave the yellow brick road to success even when your lack of drive couldn’t.

the road you followed – gum-snapping, roller-blading, friendship bands all up your arm – eventually led you to radcliffe. bright-eyed and gingham skirted, you’d always known you were more. there was a hunger in you to be something extraordinary, a want so adamant to be imagined and desired that it was almost savage. in leather-bound volumes and a circle of stones, you were helen of troy, the girl for whom they’d launch a thousand ships. but there’s so much rage within you, collecting like sawdust in cavernous parts. hockey helped. there was something grounding about the feeling of a stick clasped in your hands. sweat. stiff knuckles. feet pounding the earth. the smash of wood against flesh in the scram of a game, passed off as mere enthusiasm. “slipped, sorry.” hockey is the one thing you had that was yours alone – a feral instinct that motivates you to play; something primitive within you that sparks an energy like no other. on the pitch, you feel alive. you feel like a god.

#screeches from the rooftops like a banshee #radintro

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dystovian · 7 years

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Ok so, can I has meh a HC of how the boys would react to their female crush having a three legged mutt named Chicken? She just found the dog rummaging through trash in an alley way so she took him in and instantly fell in love. Now Chicken is super protective of her.

I totally went off track but that happens all the time but,,,here u go! Pidges one is rlly short and idk I just couldn’t think of what else to put

[Hunk:]

•have you ever wondered what hunk looks like when he’s crying? happy tears?•ok so basically you guys met at school and he would take u places every once in a while•and after a bit of going to his (I hc him as having 2 mamas) moms café, you said •"hey! you’ve never been to my place! Wanna come over?“•he’s like yeah sure why not•he’s crying because he’s going to his crush’s house•so you’re waiting up or him, jus chilling and he knocks on the door •you open it and your dog is like oh my gosh!!! someone’s here!!!! boof! •let the struggle….ensue•you have to use your knee to hold your dog back so he doesn’t jump all over Hunk•Hunk literally comes in, shuts the door behind him, and just GASPS•and he’s standing there and his excitement is boiling over the top and his lid is about to POP•and you just grin in embarrassment and scratch the back of your head, thinking, wow maybe he’s scared or allergic and I never asked•he goes "hiiiiii!!!” And puts his arms out and your dog runs through your legs and just flops into his arms and he’s literally crying•but,,,Chicken,,, doesn’t know how your relationship is with Hunk•currently Chicken is just excited to see someone new because he’s always been very kind and welcoming to others•so after you explain to Hunk how you found him and such, he immediately fell in love with Chicken and fell in love with you even more•so you guys go on the couch and he goes to put his arm around you while you’re watching a movie•and Hunk just hears growling and he gulps and turns and oh what do u kno•your 3-legged, Pitbull-Rottweiler, 10 month old puppy is baring his huge teeth and growling•ur not close with people like you are with Hunk so yr pretty surprised, and you pat hunks lap and the dog just gleefully goes over and lays across you two•Hunk PISSED himself I kid u not•he excused himself and texted Lance and Pidge•they laughed•when Hunk goes missing, you were at his mothers café, when they broke the news to you and you ended up breaking down into tears and just crying while his mothers comforted you and offered for you to stay with them for a while. Maybe until Hunk came home or when you felt better

[Lance:]

•HA•alright, here’s the thing, your dog is GIGANTIC•despite your puppy being quite young, their growth rate is crazy•you only know one part of your dogs mix unfortunately, but it sure does explain why they’re so large•a giant, 3 pawed Bernese Mountain Dog, mixed with something unknown•the dog at this point is taller than you while on back legs•anyway•you’re taking Chicken for a walk, getting him used to the whole,,, 3 legs thing. •you aren’t dating Lance at the time but you weren’t expecting to see him. a happy surprise.•you let your dog run around the park for a while, doing some homework on a picnic bench•"y/n? is that my favorite person ever!?“ And he runs over and sits beside you•he’s helping you with homework when he feels a light tug at his pant leg•and he’s like,,,haha *wink* you’re so crazy Y/n. In public? hmm I guess•and you’re like ????wat•YOUR DOG TUGS SO HARD LANCE GETS DRAGGED UNDER THE TABLE AND YOURE BOTH SCREAMING•you grab your dogs collar and you’re like omg let go stop it•your dog does and ho boi he is mortified•you also like Lance, so now you think, oh wow. he hates me now •and he says, after some silence and heavy breathing•"man, I love your dog”•he’s a sucker for big dogs and the fact your PUPPY is gigantic and soft and only has 3 paws? just even better•you tell him the story of how you found him, 4 months old, abandoned and eating raw chicken that was no doubt moldy, in a dark and unsanitary alleyway in New York (you were visiting friends)•he fell in love, with the dog and you•ended up asking you on a date while kissing your dogs face and you said YES•when he went missing, you saw it on the news. and immediately grabbed your dog and ran to his house•knocked on the door and one of his siblings answered, very obviously visible that they were just crying. and this is where YOUR, the reader, tears come in•Lance never shut up about you and told his entire family about you and they could easily recognize you because he’s so detailed about your features . Even told them about the dog•they immediately dragged you in and hugged you and you ended up spending a lot of time with them while they also fell in love with u, and Chicken.

[Shiro:]

•totally a dog man•like, he’s had many pets, mostly dogs of course and he loves them•your dog: a labrador-husky mix. bright blue eyes and golden fur. 8 years old•3 legs, a white prosthetic •you found him on the side of the road, he was abandoned at the age of 5•anyway, to begin•Shiro goes up to you in the library after a couple friends finally convince him to•and he’s like, hey, since yr my partner for the project and all, where should we meet?•and you’re like, hm, how about my place?•OKGKKF he nods a bit too excitedly but you exchange numbers and you text him the address •"the doors unlocked so you can just come right in" you text him•he goes aight,,,,, and he walks in and leaves his rained on sneakers at the door•and you’re in the kitchen making some grilled cheese w ham•and your tossin Ham at your dog, who’s jumping up to catch it•he chuckles because your standing there in pajamas and tossing your dog Ham like you’re scoring 3-pointers in basketball•and your dog just stood and books it over to Shiro and when you turn and your dog isn’t there you’re like ???? WHATDH•you look over the island and there’s your dog standing his ground against Shiro and Shiro’s like uh…hehheh•"omg chicken get over here" chicken goes back to normal and prances over to your •"little shit I swear to god"•Shiro’s like, I never thought I’d be scared of a dog before•you smile and go hug him and just hear more growling from over the counter and he’s like ohnyktidjd•you end up going to put the dog in your room because he’s not allowed in the living room and Shiro offers to just watch movies in your room while you guys work on the project•"I don’t wanna have him feel left out cos of me, yknow?“•"yeah you’re right”•you all fell asleep together no lie and if anyone was around they honestly thought it was the cutest thing (shiro drools and has lil light snores and he just looks adorable)•when he went missing, you were heartbroken and didn’t know who his family was because you never got to visit them•you ended up visiting Pidge because you became friends with Matt as well•you hugged Pidge and always took her out to but things and you also helped her sneak into the garrison•when he came back for like,a day, you were in Keith’s shack when they all got there because you wanted to know if he could get in contact with Pidge for you because you were sick from school•Shiro came in and when he woke up you were sitting beside him on the floor, head against his shoulder and your dog was on his thighs

[Keith:]

•American Bulldog puppy mix, that HE actually gave to you•he was setting up posters around the garrison because his neighbors dog was pregnant•you were one of 3 people to approach him, after like a month of it being up•he’s always liked you and he just like, sndjjsjsk, I can give it to you today•and he does, you walk with him to said neighbors and you take home the puppy •this was freshman year so the puppy is 1 year old now•and after you guys became decently close, he asked you to tutor him in Spanish•because compared to him your grades were a bit better and he refused to ask Lance because Lance wouldn’t even say yes?•but he ends up going to your house and knocking because he didn’t get the chance to ask at school, and you just let him in like it’s normal and you don’t even think it’s weird•and he comes in and as soon as he sits down here comes your dog, now 3 legged and slaps into Keith’s face•and he’s like WHAT•one, he forgot you had the dog•two, since when did the dog have 3 legs•turns out, one night the dog escaped and you couldn’t find him for hours•the dog ended up getting hurt and you had no choice but to take him to the vet, where they also had no choice but to remove his log•the dogs name was Wudley, but since the incident you tend to call him Chicken as his nickname•Keith hears about it nd is like, “I’m surprised you kept him, lots of people usually put disabled dogs up for adoption” •"I’d never do that. If it means he has a higher chance of getting put down then that’s just purposely putting him in a slaughter house"•Keith hugs you and his heart swells because you’re so sweet and kind and wow he likes you more than he thought•he hears Wudley growing and nip at his elbow and he just chuckles and plays with him and let’s just say he came over more often to “study Spanish”•by “study Spanish” I mean “play with Wudley for like,,,4 hours straight all the while getting to know you”•when he went missing you knew damn well that this classified info was aliens and ended up living in his shack and doing research while you’re dog stayed with u

[Pidge:]

•this one is a lot different •yr dog is half beagle half terrier•Pidge was walking their dog, and you were walking yours•you shout “omg! Hi Pidge!” •yes this is during the garrison, you were the same age but you went to a different school. you visited the garrison as a sort of field trip with your class and that’s how you two met•"hi Y/n! Is this your dog?“ •your dog stops and just stares and you guys are literally 10 feet apart and you’re like ????•you didn’t notice Pidges dog yet bcos u also have a crush on Pidge and were currently paying more attention to them•Chicken goes full speed at Pidges dog, and they end up fooling around•the two of you end up talking for at least an hour, while sitting on a bench•you play games on your phones and ask each other questions to get to know each other even better than before•next thing you know you both here growling and each dog is growling at one of you. Pidges dog at you, Chicken at Pidge•you panic and apologize and pick up your dog and Pidge says "oh no it’s okay my dog usually doesn’t do this either so I should apologize”•you guys literally apologize to each other for 4 minutes before you just laugh•when Pidge goes missing you end up visiting their mother, sometimes watching their dog as well and doing chores while Mrs.Holt recovers•she lost her whole family, man

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solasan · 4 years

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2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14, 16, 18, 20, 25, 30, 35 + june and adam 🌞

2. how’s their team work? do they share well?

in the beginning? fucking horrifying. they butt heads like no one’s business. there’s no team work at all, bcos they just… can’t fucking work together. but by book 2 this is improving, bcos they understand each other better now and have also proven themselves to the other. they share well by this point, too; they kinda know how to play to each other’s strengths a little more practically, while like… sharing in other contexts is kinda not something they even rly think abt before doing

4. first impression of each other? was it love at first sight?

shdkhskdjfk ok technically: yes it was. less technically: they wanted to kill each other, lowkey. june thought adam was a fucking asshole talking down to her, and that he was patronising and boring to boot. adam thought that she was a smartass and a naive little fool, and also far too tenacious and curious and stubborn for her own good. he at least sort of semi-realises his feelings before she does, though, because she doesn’t even fully realise there’s anything more than frustration there until the gap between book 1 and 2

6. any tasks that are always left to one person?

technical stuff goes to june. i dont just mean in missions, either; once they’re together, if adam’s phone or other tech is messing up, she’ll take it apart and figure out the problem. adam is designated High Shelf Reacher, because june is the size of a fucking walnut. he never outright mocks her for this, but he’s smug abt it — he also likes it, though, bcos he likes to be needed. idiot.

otherwise they probably have a chore wheel for like. day-to-day stuff. bcos adam likes to be organised and june is incapable of getting her shit together on her own

8. what do they like best about their partner?

adam will deny it till the cows come home, but he loves june’s tenacity, her stubbornness; in the day-to-day it might frustrate him from time to time (less so after book 1) but it also means that she’s determined when it comes to the job, and he admires that. he does also like her… brightness, i guess ??? it’s a joy to see

she doesn’t know it yet, but adam’s smile is going to be june’s fav thing to look at one day. personality-wise, she admires his capability; he’s good at his job and can take care of himself (and others), which june is Bad At, and also she’s been surrounded by other people who are Bad At That her whole life, so ???

10. who drives? cooks? does the handiwork? cleans? pays the bills? handles the public?

even if u can get adam in a car with her, june’ll drive. she can’t cook to save her life, so between them adam’s probably more likely to do it, but he’s not a big cook either, so ??? he does the handiwork, they both clean, they both pay the bills, and june handles the public. bcos, seriously — can u see him doing it ???

12. is there a wedding? what was the proposal like? any kind of honeymoon?

there is a wedding — it’s a small ceremony, nate’s the best man, verda walks june down the aisle. adam cries very very very lowkey and june roasts him abt it that night. the proposal was also a very quiet kind of thing; they had a private dinner at her place (which nate cooked shdkfhskd) and then he asked her on her balcony near-ish sunset, bcos he’s disgustingly romantic. (this is the ring lmao)

they honeymoon in southern france and do a lot of fancy wine-tastings and the like, and then june drags him to disneyland bcos she’s never been. he’s not even mad abt it — even when she shoves one of those dumb mouse ear hats on his head — bcos she’s so happy and enthusiastic abt it that shes glowing shdkfhdk

14. anything they both dread?

mostly just. the dangers of their job ?? they’re scared of the other being taken away from them through any means, but esp death, obv

16. do they keep secrets? lie? cheat?

once everything wrt each other’s pasts etc is out, no, not rly. that takes some time tho bcos neither of them are exactly the sharing type

18. what are their dates like? how long do/did they date? do they ever feel the need to take a break from each other?

depends. sometimes they’re quiet, like dinners out etc., bcos adam’s kinda traditional. other times they’re a little more unusual — june’s dragged him to the wayhaven arcade more than once, just so they can be competitive and stupid together. i think they date for a couple years before they get married, bcos they both prefer to take their time with that kind of thing, but they’re happy and comfortable w that.

sometimes they do have to take breaks from each other, but it’s not as often as you’d expect. most of the time they’re happy to just chill w each other, but everyone has Those Days, so

20. what does their home look like? their room?

june grew up in a big, empty house, so she kinda resists the idea of getting anywhere big for a little while, but once the kids are born they…… do have to live somewhere other than her apartment, bcos there’s no room. they get a place near the cobblestones, and even though she worries it’ll be like her family home, it isn’t at all — it’s full of laughter and comfort and love.

i think it’s a tudor-style house, four bedrooms (so that an uncle or aunt from the unit can stay if they want), and nate and farah definitely helped decorate, bcos neither june nor adam are brilliant at it. allll the latest tech, bcos it’s june. it’s just….. comfortable ykno

their room is cleaner than u’d expect from june, bcos adam Cannot Abide mess. probably blue walls ??? a bigass bed, obviously. they have quite a few bookshelves in there, i think ??? no desk tho bcos they both agree this is the safe space away from work

25. how much time do they spend together? do they share their feelings, or hold things in?

they spend a lot of time together, actually. they’re comfortable with each other, and they like being in close proximity as often as they can be — adam feels like he can look out for and protect her better when she’s nearby, but also she just… makes things better by being there ?? she makes him smile, reminds him he’s a person. all im seeing is her with her head in his lap while they both do work i love them…..

june shares her feelings. shes very vocal. it flusters him and she adores doing that, but also she just… adores him lmao. adam is less vocal and more abt actions, but once theyre together he makes sure she knows without a doubt how he feels abt her. the whole pre-relationship thing means hes got a lot to make up for sghdjdhskd

30. could they manage a long distance relationship?

i’d hesitate to say either of them could manage a long-distance relationship w anyone else, but i think they might make it work with each other ??? they’d be very grumpy abt it tho

35. do they bring out the best in each other, or the worst? do they have a fatal flaw?

oh best for sure. like i said, she makes him smile, reminds him he’s not just a thousand-year-old block of stone. she also brings out the humour in him; he jokes around with her, which he hasnt done with anyone in so long. meanwhile, he brings out the more serious side of her; he keeps her grounded, makes sure she’s a little more careful about choices she makes, that kind of thing. they rly do balance each other out perfectly

#thank u queen airika ur the best #look at these morons........... look at them #ch: june lovelace #chuckhansen #answered

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gotatext · 5 years

Text

by this point im p sure u all know the drill.... i’m nora, 23, she/her, gmt and tonight matthew im going to be greta o’driscoll, a terrible person but a hot one which frankly makes it almost ok. here is her pinterest..... this intro is literally just copied n pasted frm the last time i played her so soz if u’ve read it like 10+ times....

「 diana silvers. cis-female. 」have you seen greta o’driscoll around yet? i hear she decided to be in POTENTAS for their SOPHOMORE year as a CRIMINAL PSYCHOLOGY major. the 20 year old SHEPHERD is known to be tenacious, magnetic, capricious and evasive. ➨ the muse is written by nora, she/her, gmt.

was adopted as an infant. had two foster moms and two older sisters so always surrounded by women. lived in a boarding house, very much like the one in 20th century women, with lodgers coming in and out all the time, mostly artsy young women because her gay moms were both high school teachers trying to set up their own arts collective. one of her moms left when she was 4, n she doesn’t really remember her.

while living with entirely women made her super into catlin moran and the guilty feminist, as a teenager she often let boys walk all over her bc she just craved male attention jst bcos she’d never really experienced it. saw it as something aspirational, like sitting in the back of chad’s second-hand truck while he drove you to macdonalds and offered you and his five friends with identical haircuts weed was the height of being cool to greta, she wanted to be their dream girl, even if it meant compromising her beliefs

was always a really sporty bitch. it started with a junior athletics squad, which turned into athletics and cheer, which then became athletics, cheer and hockey until she basically was doing a different activity every night. she came to see her body as a tool that she could make work for her if she trained it up and this attitude’s always kind of stayed with her that as long as her body is strong she is capable of anything. runs every day.

bubbly bitch but also massive snake. metaphorically and literally, always shedding her skin. loyal to few, ruled by none, out for herself, babey!! every place she goes, she becomes a new character, someone who’s a figment of her imagination, as if each city is repertory theatre and she’s a character actress, so as a result som ppl think she’s called rita, some ppl know her as margot, she just flicks through identities like nobodies business.

left school at 18 n went backpacking around the states making money in the casinos by being a shot girl (yeehaw) and trying to make it as a mysterious 1920s widow with a smoky voice, a dark secret n a heart of gold, looking for love in the big city. all she found was producers and acting agents who’d promise her stardom n actually just fuck her in a motel n then ignore her calls.

TW domestic violence, TW gun, her watershed moment came when she met luke in sioux falls while she was working at a strip club. he was a few years older and had a car, and they kind of went from seeing each other to being that super intense couple who are just necking all the time.

they got engaged like 3 months after they met n rented a flat together, much to her family’s annoyance but she was 19 so there wasn’t much they could do. their relationship was super super intense though, often really heightened and when they fought it could become quite violent, but she’d pass it off as just him being really passionate.

one of their fights got really heated and greta threatened him with the gun he kept in the glove box of his vauxhall corsa, but the safety was off and she accidentally shot him. she pleaded self defence in the trial n cos of the amount of times she’d been hospitalised for various concussions n things like ‘fallling down the stairs’ the police were like yea… pretty watertight evidence that he was a bastard who [chicago voice] had it coming…..

she’s now under witness protection, rehoused in livingstone as a sports-scholarship student, due to the amount of police involvement in the area, it would mean should one of luke’s family members try to track her down, she’d be relatively safe

massive sports fanatic. plays tennis. on the cheer team. was a track superstar in her high school. honestly just that sporty bitch, you’ll see her doing lines at a party at half four and then on your way to your 9am lecture you see her running across the park like a fresh fucking daisy who is this bitch. maybe it’s maybelline, maybe its coke.

massive feminist. low key quite scared of powerful men bcos of her ex. wants to start a female only lesbian commune bc she misses her childhood in a south dakota boarding house and has endless support for women. honestly annoyed that she is attracted to men, would so be 100% gay if it was a choice. cuffs her jeans and can’t drive. is That bisexual. skateboards. wears backwards caps. i hate her

isn’t a foward-planner, however. greta prefers to leave her options open, play the field, live in a spontaneous manners so her study style is mostly cramming a few days before a test, or staying up all night writing an essay on a massive adrenline boost powered by red bull or probably adderall, scribbling (or typing) furiously into the night.

has an addictive personality. seems unable to do anything in a small dose, she has to let it utterly consume her. with sports, she’s fiercely competitive. with alcohol, it’s never a shot, it’s a whole bottle – wine or whiskey – she’ll be table dancing before the night’s up and making out with someone she’ll regret in the morning.

not afraid to go after what she wants !! ambitious academically and romantically thirsty !! she loves the adrenaline of the chase. when someone’s easy to get, she becomes bored. very bisexual and very proud of it. feminist as fuck nd part of a queer representation in the arts group which holds fortnightly meetings to discuss lgbt representation in film, literature, art etc.

old soul in a young person’s body. all the shit that has gone on has kind of aged her. she’s quite cynical about everything now. always smoking smoking smoking. very edie sedgwick in that way. little girls skirts bought for next-to-nothing at the market because she’s skinny enough to get away with it, barely long enough to cover your bum, and then the ugliest baggy sweater you’ve ever seen thrown over it.

likes old things. old books, old music, old houses, it reminds her of happier times like when she wasn’t alive. buys all her music on vinyl and has a gramphone because “The Sound quality is Better” kfdsjj.

super into pop art and andy warhol. puts female friendships above everything but at the same time, would fuck her best friends man

her clothing style is like…. vintage thrift store but make it preppy. berets and cute hats, neck scarves, large fluffy cardigans or like those leathery jackets with big suede fringes on them, mini skirts (very 70s), and knee high socks or boots. quite often she’ll be in sports kit, maybe a cute tennis skirt, n when she’s feeling casual she’ll wear like, a talking heads tshirt with a pair of mom jeans and converse, but otherwise, the library is her catwalk.

aesthetics:

a bubble of pink gum on chapped lips, mom jeans, a beaten up pair of adidas, denim jackets, strawberry laces, knee-highs, chapped lips, peeling sticky plasters, split knuckles, bruises you try to cover with concealer, stick and poke tattoos, hot coffee, sleep caught in your eyes on a lazy afternoon, kissing girls, cigarette smoke shrouding you like a veil, alien conspiracy theories and sci-fi paperbacks, doc martens with fraying laces, the red string of a thong peaking out purposely from jeans, leonine arch of your back and that stellar smile that says ‘you have no idea who you’re dealing with’, a rucksack permanently packed for the move, a streak of red across your lips, roller blades, cut knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, and piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your mom wouldn’t take you, kate moss posters lining the walls of a teenage bedroom, his name scrawled in rage across the pages of a diary, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, a tennis racket you punched through in a fit of temper, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes.

wanted plots

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! former best friends separated by sports rivalries ! sporting friends who are on other teams but who she absolutely loves playin against!!!

since greta literally can’t differentiate between romantic and platonic love, she’s got off with so many of her mates, so i want awkward friendships where they nearly dated, or exes that have now just turned into weird friendships

girls from the cheer team who she’s like, weirdly intimate with like the shower together but its not a Thing cos the other girls straight !!! what do u mean !! aha just fun !

and I want like, fellow criminology students who are like?? how is this bitch still passing?? i swear she goes out every night??

she works part time at a fast food restaurant, i want a mate that just goes and sits in there talking to her until her manager gets angry.

ppl she did a few modules with ie. art history, bio-med, film studies, before changing course and somehow sort of remaining in touch with

ppl who she runs track with.

someone she’s trying to make a zine with.

here’s a list of plots on her old blog if u want any of them w her.

would love plots of any type, throw them all at me please, i cnt wait to interact w all of u. like this if u want me to message you about connections / plots! xo

full biography if u can be bothered

trigger warnings: drugs, domestic abuse, gun.

you never meant for it to happen. you’d heard the stories, of girls who let their man walk all over them, and thought to yourself “i’ll never be one of those girls…” the kind that eat low-fat yoghurt and drink slim fast to shred a few extra pounds because he said she was getting round in the tummy, or the ones who spent their evenings tied to a kitchen sink drinking wine while him and the boys played poker, wishing god, if only I could get out of here. not you, not you raised by strong women, four bright shining beacons. single mother with her hard-as-nails attitude and her stony glares, elder sisters (twins) one ginger, one blonde, one doctor, one lawyer, both determined to take a bullet to the brain and a hammer to the patriarchy before they let a man touch them without asking. you were always so inferior, so insecure and small, like a bird (like a sparrow) with blonde plaits down your back sucking tropicana whilst your busom buds sucked dick, their lips permanently ripe with stories of their sexual exploits, fake tan and glittered nails whilst you sat in the unbroken egg of virginity wondering what it was like to be loved. one day you found out.

lily milligan’s parents gone and a free house for the night, bottles of ouzo and tequila swiped from your mother’s liquor cabinet thinking she wouldn’t know (she always knew) your legs, hardened from pep squad, slut dropping on a kitchen table because the boys thought it would be fun to get the quiet girl drunk. you’d never had a sip before that night. band t-shirts, denim shorts and the split soles of rotten converse that you refuse to let go of, you still clutched with both hands to your youth, but in a tube top now (borrowed from alice carmichael who had a sister in college) and a short tennis skirt, your feet not in trainers but in thigh-high boots. uncomfy as hell but lily said you needed to look sexy. you didn’t know if you wanted to be sexy. you didn’t know what kind of girl you were, if you were even a girl at all. but robbie looked at you like he knew exactly who you were, like he knew you better than you knew yourself, and his lips had the pink cupid’s bow of a movie star, and his hair was dark locks, curling like a mane. his hands were soft, and suddenly on your waist, and after three more shots his lips were on yours and his name was the only sound in your head and on your lips as you lost it in lily’s college sister’s bedroom beneath the glare of a T-Pain poster. you bled for what seemed like hours, his hand still in yours, kissing on the sofa as truth tellers and dare devils continued to spin a bottle of unprecedented youth. you thought it was love. robbie was the one. he loved you, you knew it, how else could someone be so soft? but soon he grew bored, scrunched up your paper heart and set it alight. then came the tears, the hatred, the ‘fuck robbie, in fact, fuck all boys.’ and that you did.

you were known for being easy. any boy could be yours for a night, as long as he promised to love you for those few short breaths and pants before you cried yourself to sleep. you felt poisoned, but poisonous as well, as if by ensnaring these young boys you were gaining power over them, and not the other way around. soon it started to work. they’d want more, but you’d deny them it, sick of sucking off silly schoolboys, they’d call you a tease, a vixen. maybe you were, but you couldn’t help but want older men. you got the history teacher first time, him bending you over his desk to sneak a hand up your tennis skirt as the after-school clubs carried on next door, unawares. love didn’t exist, not for you. it was nothing but a game for pretty young girls to play, bubble gum in their canines and a hand tugging at the hem of their cheer skirt.

there was so much anger inside of your small body, ‘beware of boys and their hook-like words’. hockey helped. there was something formidable about the feeling of a stick like a weapon in your hands and the thwack it made against thighs in the heat of a scrum - “slipped, sorry!” - you’d utter with a snakeskin smile, millicent quinn knowing that you’d hit her on purpose because she shagged robbie at that party last week. she couldn’t prove it, cobbled acne on her forehead turning green with disgust. ben came into your life like a car crash. two years your senior, with a baseball jacket and shoulders like a god. he became your personal hero. on the pitch, he was lethal. together, you could bring anyone to their ruin. each day after last period he’d be waiting in his car. you’d leap into his arms like a girl-half starved, love me, love me, love me, your heated kisses the envy of every junior girl. he was yours for three blissful years, utterly yours, and you were his, his star-spangled girl, and he was your knight - you were both the same, playing games, always difficult to predict. it was a shock to all when he proposed, high-school sweethearts find love in south dakota.

the engagement was a bittersweet affair; three months – you barely out of your gingham print skirts and into a graduation gown, him, a surly quarterback towering above your sisters, cigarette at his lips and a scowl like a fart in a lift. they hated him. so did you. but you were eighteen and in love, and he fitted the cookie cutter mould. everyone wanted him, and you had him. you had him and you were happy, happy, happy, and he loved you. he said he’d give you the world, anything you wanted hand-picked and given to you. instead, he gave you a jack russell terrier and a flat you couldn’t swing a cat in, wallpaper peeling like the rotten bits inside of you, the bits that only he knew. and you got tireder and tireder of the sad excuse of a life he’d picked out for you, him out doing god knows what to pay the bills, and you dancing on tables to pave your way to stardom, and this was love, this was real, until the shine wore off and your fresh-faced, dimple-cheeked cheerleader facade faded and the ugliness started to reveal itself, the whining, the petulance, the sharp-tempered cruelty, the mind games, the need to always win, win, win. he was dull, he was boring, he was nothing like the boy the girls had said he was and no chiselled six pack could hide his lack of anything remotely interesting, your patience wearing thin until it snapped like rubber, a rucksack on your back, running shoes on your feet and the joint bank account emptied into your eighth grade birthday wallet.

you built your small fortunes working the casinos of sioux falls, a crimson dress and an attitude to match. bookish archie with his little dipper freckles was fun for a month, before he became just as dull and dreary as the rest. a three hour bus and you were in minneapolis, bright eyed and bushy tailed, fresh meat ready for the pickings. a hostel here, a friendly co-worker’s sofa there as you made what you could by taking off your clothes and shaking your ass like you were back in pep squad, doing what you did best. you met your fair share of creeps, and soon it was back on the road to escape a wide-eyed stalker and a restless itch for more. milwaukee, chicago, you made the roads your own. log cabins and lodgings, and the occasional motel, a beaten up pick up truck purchased at a scrap merchants – you got a few miles out of it before it bit the dust, and when you finally set it alight after nights spent lounging across the driver’s seat, a parka tucked over you as a duvet, you were sad to see it go. you’re nomadic by fault, never attaching to place, people or things, creating a new personality in every place you go like a character actress; each town is a different repertory theatre, and you’re the star. a compulsive liar, you even fib about your own name, to some you’re ellen, nineteen, bookish, a law student who likes smoking and cosmos. to someone else you’re rita, you’re twenty five and look young for your age, like smoking, comics and fucking in public places.

in the bright lights of michigan, you found charlie, sweet charlie, too good for you, though you let him spoil you while he thought you were the small town girl of his dreams. next came abigail, who was fun until the jealously kicked in, and then luke, gorgeous luke, dangerous, exciting, who despite his temper, despite the fights, despite bruises down your spine and your teeth marks on his arms, loved you with the strength of a wild fire. there was destruction in your wishbones, a savageness from the field, from the pitch and now somehow in his arms, you were godly. he was cruel, he was careless, and he refused to fall at your feet like so many other boys had, which only you made you want him all the more. you were rage incarnate. you hated him so fiercely you thought you might kill him, so he played the only card you wouldn’t predict; proposed.

the house you shared was a backstreet flat in detroit, you making your name as a downtown singer while he footed the bill with pills. they had a drug for anything these days, to dull the senses, to pick them up, to drive you to insanity or pull you out of the madness hole. the two of you lived like criminals on the run (you never told him that you were, living out your days as the enigma he wanted you to be), you with your voice like caramel and fishnet legs. you were his and his alone until his hand was at your throat and the gun was in your hands screaming at him to stop, stop, stop, until a bullet stoppered his brain, crimson staining linoleum as you cast yourself out like lucifer. self defence was decreed the moment they saw your violet neck, black tears and headlight eyes and mind screaming red, red, red like the pom-poms you shook so willingly in school and the insides of his skull. you were gone, and “you” was born, renamed “greta”, boxed, shipped-out, and next-day delivered to livingstone where under witness protection you were a student, blank slate, fresh-faced in a place where no one knew your name, doing what you always did and starting again.

#this is soooOoOOO fuckin long cos every time i play greta i add more shit to it..... her seventh form will just be an entire fuckin novel.#anyway call me beep me if u wanna reach me #aka pls msg me either here or on discord. my discord is linday lohan's meth8664 #wshedintro

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