#if you were a cis boy you had a bowl cut
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shoulda known i was neurodivergent the way i was stackin cans like the autism baby
#ft rare never before seen pic of baby me#stackin me some arabic canned food (as i should)#autism baby#also featuring my fuckass bangs#convinced that every white child in the 2000s looked like this with the bangs#if you were a cis boy you had a bowl cut
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! * , (dylan o'brien, thirty one, cis male, he / him) ! * , hey, did you see RYAN SHEFFIELD. unloading their boxes from the moving truck? i heard they are THIRTY ONE years old and work as a BARTENDER at MOLOTOV PUB. they totally remind me of BOY IN THE BUBBLE by ALEC BENJAMIN, BRUISED KNUCKLES and A PERPETUAL SENSE OF LONELINESS. they’ll probably hang out at MOLOTOV PUB the most if you were looking for them.
𓂅 𐫱 ❛ regarding ; ꒰ basics ꒱
name : ryan sheffield
age : thirty one years old.
gender : cis man
pronouns : he / him
height : six feet, two inches.
tattoos : none.
piercings : none.
sexuality : bisexual / biromantic. ( leans towards women )
relationship status : single.
faceclaim : drew starkey.
𓂅 𐫱 ❛ regarding ; ꒰ history ꒱
birthday : october 12th.
zodiac sign : libra.
place of birth : annapolis, maryland.
parents : jameson sheffield ( father ) & penelope sheffield ( mother )
siblings : one younger sister & a younger brother. ( his siblings are twins )
criminal record : nothing that ever really stuck, despite him getting into some trouble when he was younger. he's much more careful with his actions now that he's an adult.
𓂅 𐫱 ❛ regarding ; ꒰ deeper dive ꒱
personality type : istp.
temperament : choleric.
alignment : neutral evil.
personality traits : positive ; fervent, pragmatic , resolute , stoic & tenacious. negative ; abrasive , argumentative , bellicose , haughty & obstinate.
mannerisms : tends to tap his fingers and feet frequently when he's been still for too long, clenches his jaw when frustrated & cracks his knuckles regularly.
educational background : graduated high school with a 3.9 gpa. dropped out of harvard university because he decided secondary education wasn't for him. he decided it was time to stop living up to his parents expectations and began to live for himself instead.
notable skills / talents : can hotwire a car, has excellent memory retention & he is excellent with computers.
phobias : deep ocean.
pet peeves : people who don't use the left lane properly on the highway, the sound of gum smacking & the sound of utensils scraping against a plate or bowl.
hobbies : despite his closed off personality, he does enjoy bartending, apart from the socialization aspect, and spends some of his days off at the bar too. he doesn't have any things he'd definitively call a hobby, but he does keep himself occupied.
dreams / desires : all he's focused on is detaching himself from his family name. being raised into an excess amount of wealth wasn't all it was cut out to be in ryan's eyes, and all he wants to do is become someone other than the disgraced son of a billionaire.
𓂅 𐫱 ❛ regarding ; ꒰ backstory / tidbits ꒱
ryan is the son of a well known billionaire, and the oldest of the sheffield family. he was the one jameson had intended to carry on the family name and establish himself in society. this, however, was not something ryan wanted for himself.
due to the fact that he wanted nothing to do with establishing himself, he began to act out and get himself into trouble to prove to his father he would never be the son that he wanted him to be.
ryan built a bit of a terrible reputation for himself back at home, and made it known to anyone and everyone around him that he was not someone to be messed with.
he has never shied away from a fight, and he's someone who is easily provoked. it's something he's tried working on in the past, but he's never had any success in doing so.
ryan, despite his determination to show his father he wouldn't be the kind of person he wanted him to be, still did incredibly well in school and managed to get himself into harvard. however, he did drop out after his second year once he decided he didn't want to pursue law or do any sort of secondary education.
he didn't care to hear the criticisms of either of his parents, so, after leaving harvard, he decided it'd be best to get a fresh start. so, after doing his research, he settled on wilma lane. he decided to try something completely new to him when he gave bartending a try. though he isn't vocal about it, he does enjoy it. it comes easily to him.
ryan is not exactly the most sociable person out there, he's a reserved person and hasn't ever really opened up to anyone before. he also has no desire to. he's content with loneliness at the moment, as he's not a fan of bonds or attachments.
he's perceived as an asshole, and he wouldn't really disagree with that statement, either. he's far from a people pleaser and doesn't ever hesitate to speak his mind. he isn't the kind of person who considers the feelings of other people, and he never has been.
it has been said that he has the mouth of a sailor with no filter whatsoever. that is true. he curses often and doesn't think before speaking at all. this has also gotten him into trouble, but he hasn't changed his ways regardless.
while he doesn't do attachments, he's not opposed to flings. he's a known flirt and is capable of being quite charming if he's interested in having a good time with someone.
he's not exactly close with any of his family members, but his resentment is strongest towards his father. his relationship with the rest of his family members could be salvaged if he put in the effort, but he has no interest in reconnecting with his father.
ryan lives alone with his dog that he got a year ago, he's content with his life and will occasionally do additional work on the side to make extra money just to build up his savings which did take a bit of a hit after leaving harvard.
𓂅 𐫱 ❛ regarding ; ꒰ wanted connections ꒱
bar regulars. ( 5 / 5 available ) these would be the people he sees more than anyone else at the bar. despite him not really caring to, he's definitely been made aware of many of the personal details in their lives. he remembers everything they share with him, too.
neighbor. he's not close to his neighbor at all, but he's at least a decent neighbor. he's respectful of time and doesn't do anything to be disruptive. he doesn't really even know his neighbors name, either, but he'll occasionally speak to them if they're both outside at the same time.
a dog walker. someone he pays to walk his dog on the days where he's swamped and cannot take a break and head home to do it himself. they don't really have much of a relationship outside of his dog, but he's relatively kind to them, because he does appreciate the help.
general acquaintances. ( 5 / 5 available ) people he's familiar with, but he doesn't know them well enough for their relationship to be defined by anything.
an enemy. he's definitely the kind of person who has enemies, and doesn't have any difficulties with making them, either. we could definitely discuss what happened between them to sour their relationship, as there are too many ideas to list here.
drinking buddy. they don't know all the details of each other's lives, they keep their conversations brief and unpersonal, but remarkably, they're one of the few people he can actually get along with without complications. they sit at the bar and keep each other company a couple of nights a week to let off all the stress while having a good time.
siblings. ( 2 / 2 available ) i'd love his two younger siblings ( who are twins ) to show up to town unexpectedly. his relationship with them is not the best as he distanced himself from his family altogether in his determination to detach himself from his father's name and ideas of who he should be. i'd love for his siblings to be pissed at him and see how their dynamic could evolve without the presence of their father.
ex girlfriend. this would absolutely have to be someone who came from maryland or harvard and happened to randomly pick the same place to move as he did. they did not end on the best of terms, so seeing them would leave him feeling unpleasant and lead to some tension. they'd be the only person he'd seriously dated before giving it all up.
hookups. ( 2 / 2 available ) he may not do attachments / relationships anymore, but he still has needs and likes to keep himself occupied. he's open and direct about the fact that he doesn't want anything serious.
a friend. he isn't someone who gets attached, but somehow, there is a connection with this person, and he does look out for them. they're the person he's closest to and while he may not be great at expressing himself, he would do anything for them and he actually does occasionally open up to them.
#𓂅 𐫱 ❛ answered ꒰ ryan sheffield ꒱#𓂅 𐫱 ❛ starters ꒰ ryan sheffield ꒱#𓂅 𐫱 ❛ mirror ꒰ ryan sheffield ꒱#𓂅 𐫱 ❛ study ꒰ ryan sheffield ꒱#𓂅 𐫱 ❛ prose ꒰ ryan sheffield ꒱#wilma.intro
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"Before she even understands the concept of gender identity"
That's always baffling to me. When I was in junior kindergarten, ages 3-4, we were told to line up into two lines "girls" and "boys". How would we have done that if we had no concept of gender identity? We were already being sorted!
Well very close to my first few days in class my hand shot up "Mrs. Teacher, Alex is in the wrong line!"
Alex being a kid with baggy overalls and a stripped shirt and a long bowl cut. Looked very Dennis the Menace-y. I was then informed that "No, Alex is in the correct line, Alex is a girl."
And she was a cis girl, she just looked like a boy to me. This was my first introduction to the concept of a "tomboy" - le gasp, another gender identity. But I was four years old and had a concept of gender identity.
I was already being taught the "rules" for how boys and girls should be and I was already trying to enforce them on others because that's what I thought you were supposed to do.
So everyone saying like ten to twelve year olds have no concept of gender identity is just utterly baffling and alien to me.
"why not just make the bathrooms gender neutral then huh?????????" is the new "if we make gay marriage legal whats next, POLYGAMY?????"
#ty Alex and Mrs. Teacher for expanding my worldview mere days after coming out into the 'real world'#my mom tried so hard to make me the most feminine little doll you ever did see so knowing that#being other than that was an option freed me at a very young age#i love you both though i have no idea what has become of you thank you
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I hope it's okay to answer to the tags in that post about questioning. I thought I was a trans man or a masc NB person for many years to the point of almost starting transition (I had already come out as a man to many people) but after being seen as a man and seeing the expectations people had on me and re-evaluating my relationship with my body I found out I am more comfortable as a woman and I can reach happiness all the same. Of course this is not invalidating people who transition 💙 It just wasn't my thing at the end. So your tags seemed pretty validating for me.
aah sorry this took a few days to get back but i'm glad you found it validating!!
i don't really bring up my highschool days cus i never want someone believing i thought it was a "phase" or whatever. if anything i think i'm proof that giving kids the freedom (granted i was in catholic school and my parents were conservative but also didnt give a shit what i did so not really freedom) to explore their gender does NOT turn cis girls into men. i even had a therapist ask me like "do you feel like a boy inside?" and i didn't say yes cus i knew i wasn't sure enough to pursue like medical transition even tho im p sure i was wearing some shitty 15$ chinese amazon binder at the time lmao
but yea once i got out of my parents house i realized my desire for masculinity was probably more a daddy issues thing and not a gender dysphoria thing but no harm no foul all i lost was a few years to an awful bowl cut ya know. so yea big believer in letting kids self determine their identity even if i was wrong many times myself. it's the process or whatver.
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Oliver Adams - HPHM Profile [redone]
(information is as of sixth year - shared universe with @ask-hphm-crew)
Identity
Name: Oliver Tyler Adams
Gender: Male (cis)
Age: 16
Birthday: May 28th, 1973 (gemini)
Species: Human/wizard
Blood Status: Halfblood
Sexuality: Pansexual
Alignment: Neutral Good
Residence: The family farm in the Irish countryside. It's huge, a bit outdated decoration-wise, and homey. His room is on the third floor, looking out over the field and he can see the sunrise if he wakes up early enough. The farm is so old and imbued with magic that Oliver can use underage magic without the Ministry finding out
Personality Type: ESFJ-A (the consul)
Magic
Wand: 13 3/4 inches of pliant pine wood encasing a phoenix feather core. The wand is thick and heavy, light in color, and with no defining marks other than Oliver's name carved into it with a knife. Doing this did not damage the wand in any way, but when Ollivander saw it he nearly had a heart attack.
Animagus: A mixed breed cat, Siamese/Ragdoll, similar to the stray cats that lounge around the farm
Misc. Magical Abilities: Legilimency and Occlumency, though he doesn't practice them often
Boggart Form: In earlier years, it was a werewolf, since one could be heard howling somewhere near the farm during full moons. As he got older and met actual werewolves like Chiara, Oliver lost his fear of them and his boggart changed to a mortally wounded vision of himself, having failed to save anyone from the vaults and meeting his own painful end
Riddikulus Form: The vision of himself is instead only afflicted with a concussion, with his Quidditch team mothering him as he insists he's fine
Amortentia (what do they smell like?): Oliver would smell like roast chicken, fresh tomatoes, and bright sunshine
Amortentia (what do they smell?): At the current point, Oliver smells the ocean, cat fur, and wood polish. As he has no strong romantic interest (though that may change very soon) the smells just make him happy and aren't related to any specific person
Patronus: Dolphin
Patronus Memory: His first time seeing the ocean. Nothing went wrong that day, and he got to see dolphins for the first time too. He and his family all had a great time together.
Mirror of Erised: His mother and grandparents standing proudly behind him. It's his graduation day, not an injury to him. Everything turned out okay
Specialized/Favorite Spells:
- Reficere Aspectu - temporarily repairs his vision. The spell he uses for Quidditch matches.
- Lumos, Aguamenti, Wingardium Leviosa - extremely useful spells for around the farm
- Arania Exumi - spider repellent is always useful
- Orchideous - he conjures flowers for his mother and grandmother all the time
- Reparo - the first Transfiguration spell he got on the first try
Appearance
[concept image made using the zepeto app]
Height: 6'3
Weight: 191 lbs
Physique: Skinny with noticeable muscles from all the Quidditch and farming
Eye Color: Light, slightly greyish blue
Hair Color: Dirty blonde, usually kept in a bowl cut that his mother gives him. Oliver knows it's not fashionable (Andre is constantly nagging him to change it) but he doesn't really care enough to learn hair charms
Skin Tone: Light, no freckles. He burns easily so when he comes back at the start of every year he's a bit pink
Body Modifications: His eyesight is atrocious. He wears round glasses most of the time and uses a temporary vision charm for Quidditch
Scarring: Oliver has a nasty scar on his back from being kicked by a cow as a kid, and some scratches on his arms and legs from the various animals and work around the farm
Fashion: This kid has no fashion. Andre is in hell. Oliver wears shorts whenever he can and t-shirts. If it's cold he'll add a flannel. Around sixth year he starts updating his wardrobe a bit, but keeps his usual clothing for around the farm. No point having decent clothing get all dirty and ripped up
Hogwarts
House: Gryffindor
Class Grades:
- Astronomy: E
- Care of Magical Creatures: E
- Charms: A
- Defense Against the Dark Arts: E
- Divination: E
- Flying: O
- Herbology: O
- History of Magic: A
- Potions: A
- Transfiguration: A
Quidditch: Keeper since year 3
Extracurriculars: Dragon Club, Gobstones Club
Favorite Professor: Professor McGonagall. She's his head of house, and she reminds Oliver a bit of his grandmother with her stern but kind nature. She encourages his love of Transfiguration, even if he isn't the best at it, and she's a huge Quidditch fan
Least Favorite Professor: Professor Dumbledore. Oliver is an easygoing, agreeable guy most of the time. He respects his elders as his grandparents taught him, but only when they deserve it. Dumbledore most certainly does not
Relationships
Mother: Katie Adams
- Katie is a shy, quiet woman. She was homeschooled for most of her life, receiving at-home tutoring in her later years as her mother Gertrude was unable to properly teach her what she needed to know, and she's only seen the inside of Hogwarts twice: when she sat in for her O.W.L.s and her N.E.W.T.s.
- As a mother, Katie made sure to raise Oliver to be kind and always drink his Respect Women Juice. She had him take on some of the farm duties at a young age to help teach him responsibility
- Oliver got kicked by a cow when she turned her back on him for no more than ten seconds. Katie's boggart is what would have happened had Oliver been standing slightly closer - he would have been paralyzed, as the kick would have hit his neck
Father: Kyle Donovan
- Oliver never knew him. He was a muggle who left Katie shortly after she became pregnant
- He was a decent guy in general, but the idea of being a father at the age of 24 scared him and he ran like a coward. He never knew about the Wizarding world, and even if he wanted to return to try and make amends he'll never be able to find the family farm ever again, thanks to Marvin
Grandfather: Marvin Adams
- Marvin is a cranky, slightly old fashioned kind of guy. He cares a lot about tradition and keeps telling Oliver that one day the farm will be his, and then his kids', and then their kids'. Oliver doesn't have the strength to tell him he's not sure he wants kids at all
- Marvin loves his wife. There were many times in their relationship where it looked like the marriage was about to fall apart, but they were somehow always able to get through them - mostly by him apologizing to Gertrude
- Oliver is able to hold his own in a duel thanks to Marvin. Despite being an old crud, he's got a lot of fight in him
Grandmother: Gertrude Adams
- Gertrude was horrified that Oliver was going to grow up without a male influence, which is why Katie never moved off the family farm with him. The old woman made Oliver learn to cook and sew so that he wouldn't be a useless husband in the future
- She's the type of person who'll say that she still dreams of marrying her teenage sweetheart and moving to an island with him, but she doesn't mean it. She loves her family and her life, but she does one day want to retire on an island
- After Oliver graduates Hogwarts and takes over the farm, Gertrude will finally be able to convince Marvin that they can retire without worrying over the farm, and they'll move to a lovely beach house. Her last ten years will be spent in her own little paradise
Love Interest: Isla Lyall @sapphicsaffir
- Isla is the twin sister of Vera, one of Oliver's closest friends in Gryffindor. Isla is in Ravenclaw, so originally they didn't spend much time together. However, Oliver always found Isla cuter than Vera
- People who didn't know them well thought Oliver and Vera liked each other, but anyone who did know them knew Vera would rather die, and that Oliver preferred the red haired twin over the blonde one
- Vera is the one who keeps pushing to get them together. She told Oliver that she knows Isla likes him, but he refused to believe it. Still, she kept trying, saying that if anyone had to be her brother-in-law she'd rather it be him
- In fourth year, Ravenclaw lost a crucial match and it took them out if running for the House Cup. Isla, a chaser, was disappointed, but went to the final match to support her sister and her crush
- Gryffindor won, and in the excitement, Isla ran up to Oliver and yanked him down so she could kiss him. Oliver understandably short-circuited, while Vera yelled "Finally!"
Best Friend: Andre Egwu
- When Oliver first met Andre, they didn't like each other at all. They were on opposing Quidditch teams, after all. But their mutual friends forced them to spend more time together, and now the two are practically inseparable. It makes little sense to most people.
- They're the kind of best friends who insult the living daylights out of each other to show their love
- They went as friends to the Celestial Ball. A few people got the wrong impression, but they've never considered dating each other. They feel more like brothers than anything else
Rival: Anyone on an opposing Quidditch team. Even if the rivalry doesn't affect them off the pitch, Oliver's instinctive reaction when he sees his opponents is one of distaste (ironic since both his best friend and his girlfriend are his rivals)
Enemy: Every last member of R
Dormmates:
- Charlie Weasley
- Ben Copper
- Jae Kim
Pets: a barn owl named Priscilla, and a sheepdog who stays at the farm named Sparky
Closest Canon Friends:
- Charlie Weasley
- Nymphadora Tonks
- Diego Caplan
Closest Noncanon Friends:
- Vera Lyall @sapphicsaffir
- The gang from @ask-hphm-crew
- Unnamed members of the Gryffindor Quidditch team
Storyline
- Oliver was raised a happy, carefree little boy. His incident with the cow never deterred him from helping his mum and grandparents around the farm, and he even gave the cow an "I'm sorry I provoked you" treat as soon as he could. He didn't ask about his father until he was ten, and Gertrude sat him down and told him what happened. Oliver resents the man that fled his mother. Gertrude knew he'd be angry and didn't tell him his father's name
- During his first couple years at Hogwarts, Oliver made friends and charmed his way into most of the professors' good graces. In year three Oliver joined the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and after his first match against Ravenclaw, he and Andre started butting heads until their other friends forced them to hang out more
- Oliver gets involved with the Cursed Vaults almost by accident. He has no cursed brother like the game says, but he does have a desire to help people, so when he hears of a group of students trying to save the school from certain doom, he gets involved right away
- His discovered Legilimency throws him for a loop, as no one in his family has that power. He rarely ever uses his mind reading without permission, but when it becomes necessary he's usually able to do it without the target finding out
- After Hogwarts, Oliver will take ownership of the family farm for a few years, but it's not his passion and he hates the idea of being stuck there for the rest of his life. At age twenty two he sells the farm to one of the farmhands with three young kids and uses the money to buy a bakery with an apartment above it. He grows some of his own ingredients and buys the rest at discount from the old farm, and also runs guitar lessons out of his apartment. His grandparents are a little disappointed, but they understand, and his mother reveals that she had a secret boyfriend who she moves in with and later marries. He's a nice man with a kid a little older than Oliver
- Oliver and Isla have a small wedding a little before the Battle of Hogwarts. A few years later, Isla gives birth to twin girls Kenzie and Kleio. Five years after that, their son Caspian is born
Extra Info
- Oliver is a family man through and through. If he had to, he would have stayed on the farm forever to support his family. When he has his own family, he's an extremely devoted father even though he was never sure he wanted children when he was younger
- Despite not moving on to play Quidditch professionally, Oliver does join a recreational team after he sells the farm, as does Andre, who starts up his own fashion line
- Oliver is a total house husband. Isla is a cursebreaker, and Oliver brags about her to whoever will listen. She often comes home to a fresh cooked meal/baked goods
- Oliver's a cat person. He adopts two stray kittens when he moves to the bakery and loves them with all his heart
- He can't be alone for more than a few days or he'll go crazy. He loves spending time with his friends or even meeting new people
- He starts playing the guitar at the age of seven. Marvin is the one to teach him. Later on he learns about the muggle electric guitar and buys one as soon as he can figure out how to get electricity into his apartment
- Oliver visits his grandparents at their beach house at least five times a year. He can't get enough of the ocean, even when it's too cold to go swimming (and he'll usually do it anyway)
- He's the tallest one in his immediate family. Oliver assumes he got his height from his father, but he actually got the height from Gertrude's side of the family
- Oliver will always prefer to cook himself than to go to a restaurant
- He's a fairly good dueler, but Diego could always kick his ass
- Oliver will try to arrange a big meetup with all of his friends at least once a year. Not everyone can make it every time, but he refuses to let their friendships fade into the past
- He loses the bowl cut in year seven, when Andre convinces Tonks and Diego to hold him down so Andre can fix his hair. Oliver ends up liking it and keeps it that way for years to come
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multiples of 3 ✌🏼-sgmdrcklee
@sagemoderocklee you’re really trying to kill me lol
This got long as heck so I’m throwing it behind a cut. Read on for answers and fic recs! (Mostly the fic recs)
3. favorite line/scene you wrote this year
This is a tough one to answer for me generally because I tend to spit words onto the page and once I have written them I no longer remember writing them. And 2020 has stretched on so long that as I’m looking at some of the stuff I wrote in the beginning of this year, I hardly remember what’s even in it. I think at one point someone (@goblin-draws maybe?) mentioned a line in Sleeptalk with Me where the innkeeper calls Kankuro “chubby boy”, and I was like “Oh ... did I write that? Yeah, sounds like something I’d have someone say to Kankuro ...”
It might be easier to talk about this in other terms. One of the scenes I worked the hardest on this year was the fight scene in Chapter 3 of Skeleton Key. The original draft of the scene was a lot shorter, and a lot of the backstory for Misaki’s revenge quest was elided. The scene as originally written was clunky, confusing, and as my lovely wife/beta put it sounded “like a Naruto villain” was doing the dialogue, when previously she’d found Misaki sinister and intriguing. Which wasn’t what I wanted. I basically entirely overhauled the scene and re-wrote it several times. I wouldn’t call it a ‘favorite’ scene (I hate writing fight scenes generally; having chosen to immerse myself in a fandom about ninja where much of the drama comes from battle is my eternal regret), but it is a scene that I put a lot of effort into, and I’m moderately satisfied with the improved product that resulted.
6. least popular fic this year
By far my least popular fic by kudos ever is Pitch Perfect. Which makes complete sense to me. It’s a fic where I’ve written 2 characters who are men in canon as cis women, which pushes a lot of uncomfortable buttons for a lot of people. It contains F/F smut, which is something that a lot of people who choose to read GaaLee probably aren’t out there looking for. And people comment and kudos less on smutfics, I assume because they don’t want their username attached to porn or because they’re embarrassed (which I totally get, no shame there). It’s a modern AU with a sports twist, and AUs are often less popular than canonverse in my experience. I will say though that it has a surprisingly high number of private bookmarks compared to other fics with comparable hit and kudos counts. So I assume people are just a bit more shy because the premise is so ‘out there’. I will say as far as my fics go, it’s one of my personal favorites and probably one of the most intimate and true-to-life things I’ve written? So it actually is a little comforting to know that something so vulnerable has relatively little attention.
9. longest wip of the year
If we’re going based on stuff that’s partially published but not complete, my Gaara-adopts-Shinki fic On My Way Home is my longest in-progress fic at just over 20k words, although technically I started it in 2019. It will probably end up being right around 40-50k when it’s complete, which might end up situating it as my longest fic ever?
12. favorite character to write about this year
Okay, this is an easy one. I love writing Kankuro. I think he is hilarious. He is the devil on my shoulder and a creature of pure id, and every time I write a line of dialogue for him it’s the summation of my rudest thoughts about a situation put in the crudest possible terms. If there were a megaphone directly from my unfiltered brain giving running commentary, that would be Kankuro.
15. something you learned this year
I have learned SO much this year! This is only my 2nd year properly ‘focusing’ on writing fic and investing any substantial time into it. I think the biggest thing I have learned, though, is how to overcome a lot of my self-consciousness about writing stories with NSFW elements in them. Starting out, I was so extremely shy and mortified about writing fic at all, much less things like hugging or (god forbid!) kissing. So taking on the smut prompts I took this year and really buckling down on learning to write the mechanics and emotions of sex has been a massive learning experience. (And sorry, by the way, if I haven’t gotten to a prompt you sent me in January yet. I do intend to write all of them eventually!)
18. current number of WIPs
Ah. The call-out question. My general fic process is idea -> outline -> wip -> edit -> ready to post (where the final draft sits in my docs until I gin up the courage to actually post it). So skipping fics that are just “ideas” on the big mega-list, I have 3 fics in the “outline” stage, 13 fics in the partially written “wip” stage, 1 fic in the “editing” stage, and 2 that are complete but yet-to-be-posted. So, like, 19 total in the offing. (The “ideas” list is even worse lol.)
21. most memorable comment/review
This is such a difficult question because every single comment I get makes me do a little dance for joy. That’s not an exaggeration btw I really sit there and like bounce around in my seat for a moment before I open the Ao3 email. I am not an especially emotive person irl, but there have been times I’ve been brought near tears by comments. I’ll also occasionally show them to my wife like !! look at this nice thing this person said !! and she’s indulgent enough to actually read them. There have been a couple comments that have really stuck with me, that I starred in my inbox and return to frequently, but I don’t want to bring attention to someone else without their permission. I will say there was one person recently who mentioned (not in the comments on one of my fics) that they had found someone who does physical binding of fanfiction and they were about to ask my permission to do that, but then the person who does the binding only does certain ships that she likes ... so that, just, absolutely floored me. The idea that someone might actual want a physical copy of my stupid little ninja fanfictions is, like, so truly immense and completely overwhelming?
24. favorite fic you read this year
You can’t make me pick just one!! (For reference, I have bookmarked right around 180 fics in the past year, and that’s not including fics that I just read, really enjoyed, but didn’t think I could ‘handle’ a second time around.) So, skipping over the ones that AREN’T Naruto ... here is a brief sampling of some faves:
Silica by deepestbluest (rated E, GaaLee, ShikaTema, and Kankiba) - An absolute emotional powerhouse of a fic that manages to skillfully interweave three complex relationship dynamics, satisfactorily resolve them, and give you ALL the sandsibs feels in just over 10k words.
Childhood Not-Friends (series) by MegaWallflower (rated G, KakaGai) - @megawallflower is a KakaGai god for good reason. Absolutely adorable relationship development fics (five of them!) with the premise that Kakashi thinks he and Gai have been dating since they were kids ... Gai just hasn’t been clued into it yet. These stories will give you heart-eyes.
The Bright Side by gidget_goes (rated T, GaaLee) - This is the Buffy AU I never knew I needed, because I’ve never seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer. But truly you don’t need any Buffy knowledge to enjoy this fic. @gidget-goes command of imagery is masterful, and the way they manage to snap from snark to tugging at your heartstrings is awe-inspiring. Gaara breaks my heart in this. And did I mention Kankuro wears a 10-gallon hat? Because Kankuro wears a 10-gallon hat.
Nature vs. Nurture by Bidiza (rated T, GaaLee) - So introspective and so poetic. This looks like a WIP but it’s actually multiple oneshots, although by the end of the second one you’ll be dying for the rest of the promised series.
I’m a Fool to Want You by BeelieveRosemarie (rated M, GaaLee) - Turns out @tuttiefruttiegaalee isn’t just an amazing artist, they’re a writer, too! Slow-dancing that will break your heart. Listen to the Frank Sinatra song while you read this for extra tear-jerking effect.
Let Love be Known (series) by TenTomatoes (rated G, GaaLee) - This is the twist on the arranged marriage trope and Beauty and the Beast that I didn’t realize this fandom was missing. I’m absolutely obsessed with their concept of Gaara as the Beast
I Could Be by LilacNoctua (rated T, GaaLee) - I know I big up @lilac-writes Worthwhile series a lot (deservedly so, because it’s so good it makes you look at the series and go “Why the fuck didn’t Kishimoto make this canon exactly like this?”), but this story made me absolutely die between the butterflies in my stomach and how hard I was laughing. There’s one line--you’ll know it when you read it--that absolutely bowls me over every time I re-read this.
And Then Continue by EgregiousDerp (rated E, GaaLee) - Obviously I’m biased because this was a gift, but @egregiousderp writes some of the the best characterized porn I’ve ever read. You will read this and go “Wow! This is exactly how it would happen!” It’s such a tender, beautiful exploration of Gaara’s insecurities and a very real feeling first time, for all its soft edges.
Cake by citronelle (rated E, KanKiba) - I don’t even know what to say about this one other than ... phew, this is extremely well written, extremely hot, and extremely in character. Just read it. I promise it’s worth it.
Saudade by YumKiwiDelicious (rated M, GaaLee) - I’ve run around reccing this to just about every person on the face of the earth at this point. If you’re in the GaaLee Discord you probably saw everyone salivating over every new update of this fic and with good reason. The twists and turns of this fic will have you on the edge of your seat, second guessing every single moment. And it will break your heart in the meantime. What more could you want?
the love potion commotion by floating_cats (rated T, NejiSasu with background GaaLee) - One of those fics where you wish the author’s sense of humor was your own. So many hilarious moments in this story, and it brought me a new appreciation for a ship I never would have even considered.
Finger Lickin’ Good by whazzername (rated E, GaaLee) - Whazz is another one of those authors where I literally want to rec every single thing she’s ever written, she’s just that good. (Speaking of which, if you haven’t read Fools Rush In and its sequel Degrees of Separation, you’re missing out on the best possible Metal origin story of all time. Don’t deprive yourself of this.) But this story is just ... so incredibly in character for a situation that reads like crack. It’s handled with the utmost straight-facedness and it’s so. freakin’. good.
heart lines by winterberry_holly (rated M, NejiTen and GaaLee) - I don’t even have the words to describe how perfect this fic is. It’s a truly beautiful exploration of Tenten’s relationship with her palmistry hobby and with the people in her life. My heart ached with every single line.
Standing on Ceremony by kuroashi (rated E, GaaLee) - This is just ... such a beautiful wedding story. So lovely, like getting the best possible warm hug from someone you love. If that love one was slightly strange and socially inept, because, well. It’s still Gaara doing Gaara-things. @baphometsss is another one of those authors whose handling of smut scenes is so stupendous it makes me wildly jealous.
Thrall by RokiRiot (rated T, GaaLee) - Idiots-to-lovers with a magic AU twist! This is such a wonderful story, and Gaara’s internal monologue is absolutely amazing. And Lee is Deaf in this fic, which I never ever get to see and which absolutely made my entire day/week/month/life.
Make-Out Consequences by LuxaLucifer (rated M, KakaGai with background canon Boruto ships) - I laughed so hard reading this that I had to take a breather to stop crying. That’s not an exaggeration. The characterization in this fic is impeccable and the humor is to die for. Naruto’s buffoonery truly shines here, and the author’s wit is just beyond anything I could even properly summarize. Hysterical. A++.
Thirteen Strokes by Luna_Lee (rated T, GaaLee) - Again, like, if you aren’t reading literally everything @sagemoderocklee writes, are you even really a GaaLee fan? But this fic is beyond even for one of Eeri’s incredibly excellent writings. The worldbuilding in this, the cultural notes, the imagery ... it’s all so lush and so fulfilling and so beautiful. It’s a story about love and it’s a story that you can tell has love poured into every single line. I can’t recommend it enough.
Checkmate by shadowstrangle (rated G, GaaLee) - The pettiness vibes ... this is so funny. Such a cute story and I love Gaara’s sense of humor here. Not a lot of writers give him a sense of humor, but I love how @shadowstrangle gives him a slightly odd, slightly left-of-center take on humor that still manages to be so funny.
To Court a Village by FanFictionEngineer (rated G, GaaLee) - Another one where my bias is perhaps slightly obvious, but the premise of this fic is amazing. I love cultural misunderstandings, and the idea of Lee trying his hardest to court Gaara ineptly is just so perfect.
affliction of feeling by theformerone (rated E, SakuHina) - One of those ships that it would never have occurred to me to seek out but that absolutely works with how the author’s set it up. The dynamics here are delicious. It’s so rare to find good F/F porn but this is one of them for sure.
Tried and Tested by twentysomething (Rated M, KakaIru with background canon Boruto ships and GaaLee) - Iruka’s narration in this story is just incredible. I haven’t laughed this hard reading a fic in ages. And the concept alone (that Naruto can’t be promoted to Hokage until he passes his chuunin exams ... as an adult ... and Sasuke gets dragged along for the ride) is just brilliant. Amazing concept, amazingly executed.
a fireside waltz by winterberry_holly (rated M, GaaLee) - I really tried not to rec a single author more than once here but for this one I had to. I got about halfway through this fic and immediately started running around ringing the town crier bell like READ THIS FIC! READ THIS FIC! An absolutely smoldering Regency AU with such beautiful, intimate dance scenes. My heart was racing every single time their fingers brushed. If you don’t read anything else on this list, at the very least read this.
27. favorite fanfic author of the year
I really can’t pick just one. I am lucky enough that @egregiousderp passes me her drafts under the table before (or without) publishing, and getting to read those is a private treat of unparalleled proportions. Some of my favorite things I’ve read this year I can’t even rec because they’re her unpublished stuff.
30. favorite fandom to read fic from this year
This is gonna come off strange because I just wrote such a long Naruto reclist, but I recently watched What We Do in the Shadows, and found an incredibly talented group of authors in that fandom with really amazingly good dialogue and narrative voice. I also read a lot of fic for the new It movies (even though I couldn’t watch the 2nd one for ~reasons~), and damn if there isn’t a talented crop of authors in that fandom, too. And finally with ATLA making its way onto Netflix, I had the chance to start watching that for the first time and found a ton of really good fic there as well!
fanfic end of the year asks!
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Post pictures of your first ever (fictional/celeb) crush to the latest one and tag five others to continue the game.
Ali tagged me, thanks. I guess 😘 @lanzhansmiles
A’ight so I’m simply taking this as an opportunity to show off my frankly impeccable taste 😌 *coughs into the crook of my elbow with my mask on and from a safe distance* More under the cut, godspeed!
I’m tagging uhh I really don’t want to expose anyone but uh. @morifinwes @ttaechwita @sunshine304 @treemaidengeek @flamingwell no pressure tho!!
Since 2006
Janina Fautz: Die Wilden Kerle, anyone?? Tbh i had a crush on quite a lot of the characters/actors but in hindsight Janina was and is the most influential one. Also probably my first ever girl crush (again, in hindsight bc it took me until 3 years ago to finally find out i’m queer lol)
Eva-Maria May: Yeah well I’m not gonna talk about where I know her from let’s say it was an incredibly bad soap opera my mom used to watch. She was one of the reasons why I went Yeah I Have Always Been Into Girls. I was pretty obsessed with her to the point where mini me secretly printed out a photo of her to look at lmaooo the signs have always been there and it’s truly amazing how I had been missing them for years
Amy Adams: Her as Amelia Earhart in Night at the Museum was also definitely a huge Thing to young me. Again, I had been completely oblivious about this crush for years
David Luiz: HAH! This is the point where we do NOT get into my football/soccer crushes bc this list would get WAYYY too long hahaha. I had to cut loads of people from my list for this post bc I develop a new celebrity crush every 5 minutes basically but yeah. David Luiz was definitely my biggest football/soccer crush out of..... everyone else
M*rvel
I don’t have a lot to say about any of them since I’m not into m*rvel anymore TFATWS makes me want to stick the tip of my toe back into m*rvel waters but otherwise NO THANKS
Sebastian Stan was, if my judgement of my archive is right, the longest highkey celebrity crush I’ve ever had. Mostly because I love Bucky a lot and he was so amazing in Captain America: The Winter Soldier. I must’ve had a crush on him for as long as I had been in the m*rvel fandom
Recent Past
some celeb crushes from last year that were all more or less short-lived tbh
Ester Expósito: As it often goes I didn’t find her spectacular in the beginning but as Élite went on I started to develop a huge crush on her. I still find her pretty hot but I’m not invested in Élite so yeah..... I have no object permanence
Mina El Hammani: Got to know her through Élite, too. She’s so incredibly beautiful. Had a hard time choosing a photo of her bc I’d stare at every single one for ages. Wow.
Danger Days!Gerard Way: Hah! The ones of you who’ve been following me for longer might remember my posts about wanting to dye my hair neon red. Well, him’s the reason and also clinical depression. Ended up with natural red/ginger bc my hair is too thin for bleaching lel. ANYWAY
Maxence Danet Fauvel: Pretty short-lived crush from my Skam days
Ramy Moharam Fouad: So Ramy has a brother, Tamino-Amir Moharam Fouad, who makes INCREDIBLE music. Ramy made some of his music videos (directed them? not sure), that’s how he came to my attention. Idk man he’s just so incredibly beautiful.... gives me a hint of genvy, too......
Janelle Monáe: Became a fan when Make Me Feel came out, listened to the entire album for days and eventually inevitably crushed on her
Lera Abova: Saw her in ANИА and fell in love. I screamed to my friends for weeks about how she was the most beautiful human being I’d ever seen etc etc. Eventually my crush went away mostly, but I still think she’s stunning
Keiynan Lonsdale: Keiynan said FUCK gender and I said 😍😍😍 and that’s all you need to know.
Current
*deep breath* alright let’s gooo
Bright (Wachirawit Chivaaree): Crushed on him for as long as I watched 2gether/Still 2gether lmao. I still like him a lot and sometimes lose my mind over him but I’m not exceptionally Thirsty™
Tul (Pakorn Thanasrivanitchai) and Max (Nattapol Diloknawarit): If you search either of them on tumblr you will have to scroll for a long, long time to find seperate photos of them. However, I’m not patient enough so here we are. Re: Tul, actually I want to copy/paste what Ali said bc DAMN a man who is confident about his masculinity and sexuality really is kinda hot. Same goes for Max tbh. Also Max’ lips look so soft I [redacted]
Lukas von Horbatschewsky: Also known as Lukas Alexander. He did an amazing job in Druck and he’s just a person I admire in general. As one of the few out trans actors in Germany, he had a main role as a trans boy in Druck and also co-wrote Druck’s seasons 5 and 6. He’s just a huge role model to me and, apart from that, Big Crush Material (h i s e y e s)
Li Wei: Someone suggested him as Hua Cheng for the TGCF live action and my life hasn’t been the same since. While I’m open for whoever will get that role in the end, I could look at his face for hours and not get bored. Major Genvy, too.
Li BoWen and Liu HaiKuan: I will have to deal with these two in one paragraph bc LanLan bc they have the exact same effect on me which is. that they’re not 100% my type but I WILL go absolutely feral about them at regular intervals, if you know what I mean
Song JiYang: ohh honey. oh honey.......... hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. I have a natural affinity for aquarius ppl and this one lives in my heart rent free. I’d even make him soup if he’d ask.
Wang YiBo: WELL HOLY SHIT. listen. LISTEN! the hype around him is 100% justified imo he really is That Bitch and I love him so so much for it. Fucking ICON
Honorary Mentions: Gender Envy
Here’s to the People I Thought I Had A Crush On But Not Quite until I learned the word Gender Envy:
Zhu YiLong: Man, this is the person who’s mainly responsible for me finding out AT ALL about not being entirely cis. The POWER he holds!!! His performance as Ye Zun in Guardian was like a breakthrough point for me which. certain people witnessed in real time hahaha oh I love this fandom!!
Zhu ZanJin: HIM. AAAH!! He’s literally so beautiful and whenever I see him I just go ZANZAN!! in my head and in the tags bc. well. hIM.
Xiao Zhan With Long Hair: Look, Xiao Zhan is always amazing but BLESS the person who made these manips. I can finally rest.
Wang YiBo: uhh what’s he doing here again?? Tbh YiBo is one of the few, if not the only person that gives me Major Gender Envy that I would also [redacted] if they asked. Do I want to be him or be with him? The answer is Yes.
I skipped the fictional characters bc I tend not to crush on them 👉👈 Instead I will just directly crush on the actors/actresses lol!
Thank you for bearing with me. As a prize, you can choose between a ladder supported forehead kiss, or a bowl of homemade soup. ❤
#[brother this took so fucking long]#[it was fun to reminisce but please never ask me to do this again ❤]#[sorry if anything doesn't make sense. i'm very tired my sleep schedule is fucked up and i have a major headache ❤]#[thanks ali for the tag it was really really fun!]#[also i think it's kinda sexy of me not to be ashamed of any of these. does therapy work? maybe so]#about#tag game#ali tag#r.txt
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✧・゚: * ( CIS MALE / HE/HIM / JASON MOMOA ) — welcome to ireyne, [ AILWIN VIDAR ] of [ HILAK ]. when the doom came, you were [ BLESSED ]. at [ THIRTY-FIVE ] years of age, your body has changed, and they now call you [ WATER STRIDER ]. the act of [ BOUNTY HUNTER ] suits you; after all, the whispers always said you were [ INQUISITIVE ] but also [ CRUDE ]. you are [ NEUTRAL TO ] the doom.
tw for child abandonment, brief mentions of implied serfdom, murder & violence
grew up in a small sea shanty type house along the docks of hilak, raised by a fisherman father & mother who had three older brothers above him to worry about.
he learned from birth how to be crafty, running barefoot along the cracking wood and climb the rigging of their small ship to help his father prepare for trips. often the last to be remembered after his brothers, he didn’t really learn any table manners as it was more shove the food down before someone else could snatch it.
it was a content little life, helping his father and brothers on the fishing trips, returning home to a dry bed and a small bowl of stew from his mother. he was prepared to live his whole life like this till the year he turned eight and everything changed.
unbeknownst to ailwin, years before he was born, his oldest brother had been taken by a group of cruel bandits looking for a ransom his family never could’ve afforded, so instead his father had reached out to a bounty hunter from a different kingdom, the man took the job but only with the promise that in ten years time, he would be back to collect the debt that was owed to him.
when the bounty hunter finally came around there was nothing to offer, except the fisherman’s youngest son, the one who was set to inherit nothing anyway and young enough to not put up a fight.
his mother cried as she packed him a small bag of clothing, slipping in a family necklace so that he hopefully would never forget his roots. he remembered his fathers face being stoic and that they had chosen a time when his brothers were at the market selling their fish to the town to have ailwin leave, so they wouldn’t try to fight.
ailwin left with the bounty hunter and still hasn’t returned to hilak since, the man told him that he didn’t own ailwin and the boy could leave if he chose to once he turned seventeen and had learned the trade. thus began his training, learning how to hunt, blend into any crowd, always be observant of those around you. he learned how to be always listening and retaining information, how to deflect a conversation.
he also became versed in the ways you can hurt a man, the simpliest way to cut a throat to fulfill a duty or stop a land dispute with a single pillow in the dead of night.
these didn’t leave a good taste in his mouth, but when he found himself to be at the crossroads of continuing or returning to hilak at seventeen, he chose to stay in arella, renting a small room in an inn in the poorer part of town, it wasn’t for lack of money but more for the reasoning that no one questions the shady folks in that part.
enter the DOOOOOOOOM.
ailwin was just returning from a job outside of the kingdom when the doom struck, rushing back to the quarters he had called home and beginning to check on the few friends he had made.
since then, he has indeed noticed the irony of a man with blood on his hands being blessed with a gift that was just a painful reminder of the place he no longer could return to.
while these new abilities have proved helpful in his job, they also stand there to mock him and tempt him constantly to return to hilak and check on his family.
some facts.
he has been known to turn on the original contractor if he ends up finding out they want him to hurt or hunt undeserving women or children.
has worked for free before and requested nothing but a warm meal as is he terrified of doing the same thing to another family as was done to him.
i’m open to literally any connection!! or if u would like to be one of his brothers let me know and we can plot some mischief~
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it’s all run amuck.
a server’s dropped two trays of fresh-baked scones, and the confections litter the floor like fallen leaves, purple-pink icing making the banquet hall look less like the site of a charity benefit and more like the streets of chilham mid-fall. it lights nostalgia beneath his ribs, and flip finds his lips tugging into a wistful smile.
but then a penguin-prettied guest clears his throat and arches a bristly brow.
“ right then, ” flip says with a curt nod. he clasps his hands, gaze sweeping one final dance across the sugar speckled floor. “ i’ll see to some replacements for you. ” he forces a gentle smile –– the chasm between the man’s brows only deepens.
amuck indeed.
flip glides toward the kitchen. he’s a smooth-sailing afternoon cloud; light. airy. bloody nervous.
oh, dear.
flip allan bell has a case of the collywobbles, theodore, his old assistant would tease whenever he’d drop a bowl, tray, or spoon. the best baker’s hand he’d been, that one. it’s a shame he ––
flip blinks. thinks of flames, of ink black smoke. then tries not to think about anything at all.
quick fingers collect ingredients, combine. get to kneading. in here, there’s no clammer. no crowd. just sugar, butter, flour. a baffled baker’s best friend. he’ll forget the chaos, for a little while. he’ll close his eyes as he brings cherry compote to a simmer, and think of home.
or, alternatively : greetings loved ones!! my name is linc ( 21 / est / she/her ) and here is the ever so lovely, ever so flighty phillip allan bell !
below the cut you’ll find a messy run-down of who he is, where he’s come from, and where he’s headed. i am so excited to write with all of you !! he’s fresh out of the oven ( just ask nika ) so i am head over heels for watching him grow in the windy city !
toss on some nat king cole, julie london, billie holiday, chet baker & let’s get cookin’.
— && guests may mistake me as david corenswet, but really i am phillip "flip" allan bell + cis male + he/him/his and my DOB is 02/29/1992. i am applying for the banquet manager position as part of the EHP and would like to live in suite 201. i should be hired because i am + breezy, expressive, peaceable, but i can also be flighty, perplexed, vacillant at times. personally, i like to bake sweets, not hum along to nat king cole while dancing around my flat alone, and most certainly never wear trousers that are just a bit too short to show off my eccentric sock collection when off the clock, but that won’t interfere with work. thank you for your consideration!
h i s t o r y .
born in the small english village of chilham, phillip allan bell never knew his parents––but they took great care in stapling a note with his name, birthday, and favorite color to the blanket he was found swaddled in on the steps of the local market. ( phillip allan. 29 february. needs green. ) or, at least, that’s how flip tells the story. it’s unclear whether or not his parents’ chicken scratch called for green the color, or green the currency.
when phillip started speaking, he couldn’t properly say his own name. hence the nickname flip was born. the other children in the group home took to it easily, so the single-syllable stuck.
he spent the majority of his childhood in and out of foster homes throughout kent, always returning to the same group home after intervals of six months to a year. he began helping in the kitchen early on, so he became known as flip baker –– whether in foster care or the care of group home supervisors, flip always came to dinner with a new sweet treat for the others to try. people wouldn’t want to end their time fostering him because they loved the food. but in the end, the poor boy wouldn’t be adopted. reasons tended to ring much the same, “ oh, he’s lovely, really. what a sweetheart. just a bit too nervous for us, we’re afraid. ”
in fact, nervousness colored most of flip’s young life. from loud noises to spiders to fitting in, his mind always spun about endless possibilities –– quite rarely the good ones. the kitchen was the only place he truly quieted this tendency. he baked and cooked with steady hand, when he was alone. other folks in the kitchen with him would disrupt that cadence, but flip was never one to complain. he’d just fumble a bit, laugh nervously, and move along. he’s a remarkable chef –– and the kitchen always has ample marks to prove it.
shortly after turning 16, flip relocated to london. an older couple agreed to foster and adopt him as their own, but that stability was short-lived. they perished in an apartment fire just two months later. their youngest son, theodore, agreed to take him under his wing. at only 18, the two boys became fast friends. when flip decided to open his own bakery, theodore offered to be his assistant. from then on, the sweet by & by was born.
the bakery quickly rose to fame in the london area. people traveled from far and wide to try the legendary fruit scones, fresh cakes, and scrumptious sourdough. the bbc did a feature on the bakery for one of their london food series, and the sweet by & by began attracting tourists for something more than its treats : its adorably frenetic baker. the kitchen was always spotted, his cheeks always dotted with icing or sugar. but he’d always greet customers with a molten-honey smile. tender green eyes. for years, the bakery prospered. flip prospered. he rose early to bake. he and theodore experimented with new recipes, danced around the kitchen to billie holiday, nat king cole... things were brilliant. radiant. whole. and then came the fire.
( tw: fire, death ) it happened while on a morning that was... well. most unusual. typically, flip and theodore would open the bakery together––3am sharp. they’d start preparing the day’s fresh goods, oldies playing softly on the stereo around them. but this september day in particular started off like no other: with theodore opening. alone. flip had stayed the night at one of his friends’ flats, unplanned. they’d hosted a housewarming party, and broken out his kryptonite: good bourbon. he’d drank more than his fill, and shot a text to theodore asking if it’d be alright if he started out the next day on his own. theodore agreed with a cheeky reply, getting some, are you, flip? right! as if. both men thought nothing of it. the opening, the slight shift in daily pattern. flip would be in by noon and business would carry on as usual. except flip always handled the faulty oven. on this particular morning, the device’s... quirks... slipped theodore’s mind. it took twenty minutes for the wires to start smoking. thirty minutes before theodore, swirling about the countertops with earbuds in, realized something was burning. on september 30, 2020 the sweet by & by burnt to the ground. and three days later, by smoke inhalation, it took flip’s dearest friend with it.
and that’s how it goes, innit? the story? the heartache? standing on the corner of upland and darrell road dressed in his funeral tie, squinting through scorched brick and metal like maybe, maybe if he stared hard enough, theodore, alive and well, might rise from the ashes. he didn’t. he didn’t, and flip visited the property each day for a week until he realized... he never would. he sorted through theodore’s personal affects. finally started his adopted surname, bell, as his own. he appeased reporters, for a little while. told the story, expressed how much he’d miss his best friend. his brother. but what about the bakery?, they’d ask. what about the sweet by & by? in the last interview flip ever did for the local stations, he reckoned perhaps that chapter, however sweet, was now meant to close. somewhere, online, there’s footage of him blinking through tears. twisting theo’s favorite ring around his own middle finger. green –– tsavorite. it means compassion, theodore had explained one night, after closing up. after they’d snatched a pint at the local pub and meandered on home. benevolence. beauty. somewhere, online, a reporter asks flip about that very stone. somewhere, online, flip pretends he didn’t hear it.
then came the bubble wrapping. the cardboard, packing tape. fingers rubbed raw from crinkling tape around itself, tearing it off, starting again. after theodore’s services, after relinquishing the bakery property to dulwich, flip packs his bags. he buys himself a nap, a pack of werther’s originals, and flees across the sea.
to chicago. the windy city. it’s always been circled on theodore’s map of america. that’s one i’d like to see someday, he’d say over a glass of bourbon. reckon they’re as tough as they seem? flip would always shrug, take a sip of his own drink. he didn’t know. but now? now, he would. on the plane, he spins theodore’s ring around his middle finger. even when he falls asleep, his forefinger and thumb stay there, shielding.
his initial thought is... perhaps he’ll open a bakery. but with the financial losses from the blaze, flip knows better than to embark on such an undertaking. so he does the responsible thing –– he finds a respectable job, at a respectable inn. the american experience, he hears theodore croon in the back of his mind, as he fills out his application. he’s jet lagged, distracted –– he doesn’t realize he’s checked the wrong box until the material’s been sent. and then he gets it. a banquet manager. oh, dear –– he hasn’t the faintest idea where to begin.
d i s p o s i t i o n .
born on a leap year. meaning he’s 28. but also 7.
for real footage of how flip handles himself in the kitchen, or just in general, check out this video. do i watch it daily? yes. did it inspire the general framework for flip’s frenetic kitchen tendencies? ...maybe. the chief difference lies in the result. things may crash and burn. it might look like it’s about to fall apart. but he always, always pulls it into a beautiful success.
he’s got a very deep-seated fear of fire. he’ll light candles in his flat only to flinch and snuff them out. if someone in the kitchen cooks with wine or vinegar and the skillet bursts into flame, he’ll look as though he’s seen a ghost. and he believes he’s subtle about it; oh, he truly does. but anyone with two eyes and a brain can piece together this man is very uneasy around flames.
he’s moved here with truly no plan, beyond experiencing chicago in all its glory, to make good on theodore’s dream. but as glorious and exciting as that is, he’s petrified. please help him.
there’s... a lot of unresolved traumas and sadness regarding his childhood. the bell family was the first to truly see him and give him, in all his anxious entirety, a chance. losing his last link to them has been... difficult, to say the least.
he’s a sucker for oldie music. god. it transports him. you can frequently find him in the malnati kitchens after hours whipping up something beautiful to a background of billie holiday or french classics. humming along, eyes closed, swaying... he’s graceful, truly –– when he’s not thinking about anything.
very terrible about crushes. very terrible about crushes on him. flirting sends his brain into overdrive and... often, he short-circuits. ask him a question about himself he isn’t expecting and he’ll handle it kindly, but will look like a deer in headlights.
amendment: more often than not looks like a deer in headlights.
peaceful at his core. but with the ruckus and the world raging around him, there’s always something more to worry about. if he gives you winnie the pooh vibes, it typically means he’s spinning.
he has a very delightful way of managing, mostly because he’s scared shitless of people being mean. he handles every blip and bump with ease. but inside? he’s fretting.
amendment: most often, he’s fretting. very little quiets his mind. baking, maybe. you can tell he’s having a shit time if he shows up unannounced with endless supplies of new recipes.
adores poetry. he likes reading in public spaces, people watching. he’ll often mouth the words to himself, brow furrowed, eyes lighting like he’s seeing suns rise and fall for the first time.
he’s been in love once in his life. her name was georgie. she was the epitome of breathlessness, milky sunlight, espresso brewed on a crisp morning. she was... not who he thought she was. ( she cheated, after two years of time spent together. he found them out, on a date, on an impromptu trip to brixton market for fresh supplies. )
pansexual and very aware of it. he’s in denial about people fancying him. but he very frequently develops small admirations for people, from afar.
6′4, very tall. his pants are always a slight bit too short. if you tell him, he’ll act surprised, the beautifully eccentric socks peeking out from underneath will suggest otherwise.
he’s never had a s’more. he can’t tell if he’s more intrigued or scared by the thought of them.
doesn’t like birds, particularly ones that swoop low. ( there’ve been incidents. ) he also doesn’t take a great liking to men in tall hats. ( another incident. )
make fun of his accent please i beg you. he does not know how to handle it. he’ll stammer and chuckle and it’ll be bloody amazing, i promise you.
c o n n e c t i o n s .
MAGNOLIA BARNES –– friend. they met during her time in london. neither of them are aware they’re in the same city now, let alone the same hotel. i imagine flip hasn’t told her about the bakery yet. it hasn’t really made news outside of england, so that will certainly be... a story to tell.
FLIRTATIONSHIP / SOMETHING MORE –– just imagine this nervous little bean navigating a new love connection... please... he’ll be a mess.
TOUR GUIDES –– ever wanted to show someone your version of chicago? now’s your chance! flip is so bloody new to this place. he gets lost almost always.
CONFIDANT –– they talk about anything and everything. perhaps not all of it. but there’s an unspoken trust between them. they likely met in the most unlikely of ways, and here we are now.
literally anything under the sun? oh my WORD it has been an epoch since i’ve rped and i’m just. here for any of it. all of it. cute neighbor shit. mailroom mishaps. friends. enemies. someone who keeps sneaking the last of the lobby mints. i want anything you want to throw at me!!
#death tw#fire tw#malnatiooc#intro.#☼ –– there’s a feeling within me; an everglow ! inspo.#ahhh i'm sO EXCITE
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» • * — ( benjamin wadsworth , cis male , he/him ) . i think i hear underdog by kasabian coming from apartment 2104. doesn’t balthazar ros live there ?? i heard they are a twenty-two year old chef from chicago , but they’ve been living in the apartments for two years . they come across a bit - wrathful and - rude , but they also seem like they could be + compassionate and + hardworking . whenever i see them , i think of denim jackets, guilty cigarettes, searching for a hug in a fist fight. oh , and don’t forget to follow them on instagram at tsar.zar ! ooc . ally, 22, she/her, est
hello y’all!!! i’ve been eying this rp for so long but have been. waiting until my mental state was Ready Enough to do it justice ! anyways, hello, my name is ally, i live in canada, i just got a job at walmart and i just learned how to french braid. those are my two biggest achievements during quarantine. anyways, this here is zar, he’s an emotional mess, please enjoy. there’s a quick novel-length introduction under the cut, but for more details, please click the following links. like for me to beg you for plots on discord !!!
full statistics. full biography. pinterest. wanted connections.
tw scars, emotional neglect, child abuse, physical abuse,
statistics.
full name. balthazar eduardo ros. nickname(s). zar. occupation. chef. age. twenty-two. date of birth. november 8th, 1997. nationality. american. ethnicity. mexican, iranian, english, ukrainian. orientation. bisexual/queer. gender & pronouns. cis male; he/him/his. religion. atheist.
height. 5’7”. weight. 145 lbs. eye color. brown. hair color + style. dark brown, curly, either styled haphazardly or pushed over his forehead. dominant hand. right-handed. distinguishing features. the scars on his face, that smirk, pretty boy eyes, and his plethora of tattoos.
biography.
had a... pretty shitty childhood honestly. sure, both of his parents were wealthy, but his mother, who he lived with at first in los angeles, was not only constantly busy but also emotionally neglectful. when his nanny from basically birth to age three was fired without any notice to him, for example, he cried for days. and his mother’s solution was to only keep the same nanny for a month so zar wouldn’t get attached.
he started to act out in school, because he, y’know, wasn’t getting any affection? and when therapy proved to be futile (meaning none of the therapists gave his mom the answer she wanted), she did the logical thing: blackmail your son’s father to taking him in or else she’d tell the whole world about their affair, and then put your six year old son on a plane to his father’s place alone without warning him or even telling him that he was going to live with his father.
he still has nightmares about the flight attendant pulling him onto the plane while his mom walked away, impassive. no biggie.
TO MAKE THINGS EVEN BETTER he was thrown straight into the lion’s den, living with his wealthy father and his picture-perfect family with five sons in chicago. of course, zar didn’t know that this man was his father until he was thirteen years old, but his stepmother figured it out almost immediately. and his brothers were all... spoiled brats, so she basically let them do whatever they wanted with him. i won’t get into specifics but imagine if you lived with five of your school bullies.
it’s also around them he finally looked his mother up on facebook only to find that she was now married and pregnant with another kid. he’d been replaced. this is high-quality parenting 101, folks.
food became... something of an important escape, for zar. he stopped eating with his family when he was about eight (it was basically a game of see how much we can abuse zar while the parents pretend he doesn’t exist), and started making his own little dinners. he associated dinners with the family meals he always saw on tv, portraying something he so yearned for; love, and family. to zar, cooking himself dinner each night became a way of practicing self-love.
he also developed a habit of picking up strays; he fed one stray dog, she curled up in his lap and slept, and he was hooked forever. it was the most affection he’d ever received. no matter how long it took, be it hours or months, no matter how angry or antisocial the stray seemed, he’d do anything he could to win their trust. (in fact, he kind of liked the angry ones; they always turned out to be the sweetest.)
he still acted out at school, had been diagnosed with conduct disorder and then oppositional defiant disorder. maybe he bit a psychiatrist or two who knows. and when he discovered who his father was and that everyone had been lying to him forever, well, he saw no need to hold back, now. he fought back.
he became a bona fide Bad Boy, passed from boarding school to boarding school, expelled for a laundry list of reasons. public drunkenness, assault, sucking the housemaster’s son’s dick in the showers. his parents tried military school; he spat in his drill sergeant’s eye.
finally, for his junior year, he was just put into public school in chicago. there, he was lucky enough to stumble upon the hospitality program, there, and fell back in love with cooking. this was the first thing in a long time he realized he could really do. sure, in an attempt to avoid his brothers he was now living in the attic, but still. life was looking up.
with a shining letter of recommendation from his instructor and a killer portfolio, zar was able to get into the culinary institute of new york. it was during his senior year that he moved into ten 23, and he decided to stay for a while. this apartment is probably the first place he thinks of as a home.
tl;dr abused son becomes a bad boy, learns to love via food and animals, moves to new york for school and career,
personality.
burnt marshmallow: smoky and crispy on the outside, ooey gooey on the inside.
but theres a lot of smoky/crispy; he can be very rude and blunt, and he still has a hair-trigger temper. he’s working on it, though.
honestly, he fits right in as a chef. even at the four star restaurant he works at, gideon’s, the entire cooking staff still swear like sailors.
to keep his temper intact, he smokes (he hasn’t even tried to quit) and he also does amateur mma in his free time.
sarcastic af. please someone tell him to shut the fuck up.
still will stop everything if he sees a stray. the only thing that will maybe dissuade him is work, and even then he’ll show up a little late after he makes sure the dog has water. keeps cheap doggie bowls, a water bottle, and little ziplocs full of kibble on his person at all times.
volunteers at the animal haven weekly. he still loves all the animals there.
he also has four dogs and one cat that thinks she’s a dog. does ten 23 not allow pets? doesn’t matter. he still has illegal pets. rip his roommates.
if he wants to make you feel better, he will cook for you. if he thinks you’re eating like shit, he will cook for you. if you’re hungry, he will cook for you. again, food is his way of showing love, and underneath it all he is a very loving person.
vegan, but. has to handle non-vegan things as part of his job. but still a big vegan.
horny 24/7. bi but only tops in emergencies. again, rip his roommates.
never really had a real relationship because he. gets jealous enough as it is. is constantly paranoid that people will leave him.
mom friend underneath it all. but like... an angry mom friend??? like he’ll nag you and tell you you shouldn’t have hooked up with your ex you basically asked for this but he’s doing this while making you cookies and peanut butter hot chocolate.
lowkey highkey hates himself and although he pretends otherwise he has the self esteem of a thirteen year old at their first high school dance.
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hi i’m nora ( 23. gmt. she/her ) and it turns out i really miss playing bridget ! i wasn’t feeling frida bt i wanted to explore som of her backstory more so ive kind of fused bits of her into bridget..... sue me.... for those of u who didn’t know her before i dropped her, bridget grew up in a trailer park in texas, she’s an angsty socialist leftie who gets fucked at the pub and goes off on one about capitalism. film nerd. got in on a partially subsidised scholarship and works in a bar and a fast food place to pay for her accomodation. here’s a pinboard !! everythin else is below this cut, like this post n i’ll (probably forget to) smash that im button for plots x
application template.
( cis-female ) haven’t seen BRIDGET MATUSIAK around in a while. the MARGARET QUALLEY lookalike has been known to be GARRULOUS & CANDID, but SHE can also be FICKLE & ERRATIC. The 21 year old is a JUNIOR majoring in FILM. I believe they’re living in AUDAX but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door.
aesthetics.
thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, roller blades, grazed knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes. piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your dad wouldn’t take you.
connection to tatiana & did they choose her name during the watershed?
knew each other from the cheer team in bridgets freshman year and tatiana’s sophomore year. had a competitive friendship to start with but then they got into a discussion about politics at a party one night, and maybe hooked up a few times after tatiana had jst broken up w someone. they were sort of seeing each other very casually for a bit, but…. they came from vastly different circles n it didn’t really work. they were in a bad partch at the time of the reaping so to speak, and bridget picked her name For A Giggle but now regrets it big time obviously
tw drugs, teen pregnancy
BACKSTORY TIME.. her mother was from the wrong side of the tracks, was chucked out of home pretty young after a teenage pregnancy, wanted 2 go to art school and started working as an erotic dancer to pay for college but then jst…. ended up staying there. one of those girls u see in the documentaries who had Big Plans but ultimately never got to pursue them n jst got…. sucked in by the money
her mom n dad met in high school at a parents evening. alice was fourteen, toby was thirty-one. bridget’s mom alice was a roman catholic – uneducated in matters of safe sex, mother mary around her neck, bras hanging over wooden crucifixes – and willing to give it to the first boy who seemed interested enough, gift-wrapped or not. toby was the father to a girl down the road who alice knew nothing of besides her name and the few encounters in the corridors facing a stoney stare that screamed homewrecker. it only happened once, but once was enough. alice was out of the house as soon as her parents knew a child was growing in her womb.
bridget n her mum alice were more like sisters growing up, probably because of the closeness in age. alice should’ve known that you couldn’t have a thirteen-year-old-daughter at 27 without everyone knowing you’d been one of those girls who gave it away fast as a hot potato, and maybe bridget should have known that she’d inherit more than her mother’s wide eyes, that things have a way of circling back to us --- that at fourteen she too would lose it on the floor of a swimming pool changing room, soggy back, polka-dot nylon of a swimsuit pulled down to her ankles.
she grew up in a trailer park just outside of orlando resort, but she was raised in dressing rooms surrounded by sparkly costumes and nipple pasties and leotards and the like. as a kid she’d try to trot about in her moms heels n yearned for the day she’d be able to be on stage.
if you’ve seen the florida project its a bit like tht.... just kids left to do their own shit.... mother’s a bit all over the place... made money by stealing wristbands off orlando theme park visitors, and bridget was p much raised by the community, to be honest. most of her youth was spent scurrying about half naked in cowboy boots and glasses too big for her face. a smol feral child
gilly (referred to as junior) was born four years after bridget, the son of a carpenter and sculpture artist named gilbert “gilly” senior, her moms latest squeeze. whenever she wasn’t at school bridget would be in gilly’s workshop doin her homework surrounded by parts of furniture or hanging out with the kids who were visiting disneyland but couldn’t afford the hotels on the resort
like her mother, bridget fell pregnant barely out of her gingham print dresses, hair in two plaits down her back, teddies still lining her bed. unlike her mum, she was not box-shipped out to a home for fallen women but rather booked into a clinic, given a pill, just like taking your vitamins.
her mother flaked out when bridget was around fifteen and junior was eleven. they were in the system for a while, before gilly was finally granted custody as legal guardian. the three of them moved to marfa, texas so that gilly could run classes in sculpture and woodworking at the art institute. they’re not sure where their mother went. some say she rededicated herself as a virgin and joined the convent in penance for her sins. some say she works in a las vegas strip club and sells pills to minors. bridget likes to believe that she’s an actress, her name in newspapers and her face in a star-spangled dressing mirror.
bridget used to do sponsored silences and hunger strikes for kids in developing countries. was that kid in school who was always raising money something. i mean its kinda cute but also she just wanted the acclaim and attention so…. and most of the time it didn’t even make it to the disadvantaged kids she was raising it for cos her mom needed rent money or to buy the kids new shoes n they could barely afford much themselves
she’s a strident feminist, an activist for human rights and animal rights, a vocal vegetarian and an all-round soapbox sadie. catch her in the quad shouting about human rights through a megaphone. will most definitely have quizzed your character on institutionalised racism whilst inhaling nos at a party and snacking on a big bowl of cheesy wotsits
aesthetic: big military or leather jackets over tiny little sundresses. always in docs or creepers and a beret with an anarchist symbol painted on it. wears a long green trench coat covered in badges for alt punk rock bands or a red denim jacket that she hacked into a crop jacket with a pair of kitchen scissors. cuffed jeans, thrifted or stolen. white converse, more grey tbh through years of wear. crop tops and plaid shirts tied round her waist. smudged mascara. glitter smeared over cheekbones from the previous night. cigarette smoke shrouding you like a veil, the red string of a thong peaking out purposely from jeans, piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your dad wouldn’t take you, kate moss posters lining the walls of a teenage bedroom, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson.
an aspiring screenwriter. she has a very image-based view of memory and experience. always doing a screenplay or shooting film. her style has a lot of catholic iconography (think virgin suicides style or baz luhrmann’s romeo + juliet if it was done on a super 8 camera) bcos catholicism is one of the few things she remembers about her mother. she’s never actually tried to find her mum / find out about her, jst…. occasionally channels that energy into her work.
struggles with self-image and the need to be Loved By All a lot. uses sex as an affirmation of her worth and also kinda manic-depressive (though not officially diagnosed) bcos her upbringing was a bit unstable, she was a looked after child for a while when the adoption papers were still going through… struggles a lot with feeling unwanted, especially since her grandparents refuse to acknowledge her existence cos she was born outside of marriage….. so she craves feeling wanted,, like despite being a real women’s rights activist and hating objectification, at the same time to bridge there’s nothing better than someone sizing you up with hunger in their eyes
she’s queer, but i guess she favours women, and is incredibly vocal in her support of the lgbt+ movement. often at rallies. has done a face-sitting protest. really is that bitch
there’s a degree of anger for anger’s sake in bridget. she likes passionate, angry music – particularly garage rock, punk and riot grrrl. she loves the slits and skinny girl diet. viv albertine inspired her to take up bass guitar.
back at lockwood she was working two jobs to pay for uni !! at the bowling alley polishing the shoes and fixing the bowling lanes, and also as a burger flipper at mcdonalds. in amsterdam she’s managed to secure a part-time bar job at one of the hendrix university bars
massive film buff. is majoring in film at uni also spends a lot of time at the movie theatre n probably has like a season ticket. is one of those pretentious film nerds who’re like “what do u think of goddard’s work?” but also just really into shitty horror movies
she spends her evenings in downtown bars willing away her boredom, trying to find something that’ll jerk her out of apathetic lethargy. she toys with the idea of becoming a stripper — it certainly pays better than flipping burgers — but she lacks the energy to dance for several hours a night.
she loves b movies and slasher flicks. at parties, she’ll occasionally try to make a horror of her own, on a super 8 camera in someone’s basement, very paranormal activity, but she’ll inevitably get bored, or too drunk and give up, like she does with most things in her life. she lacks drive and motivation. she’s bright but there’s no hunger in her.
she’s fickle and enigmatic. one moment she could be your best friend, the next, she’ll behave like a total stranger. bridget’s unpredictable because she’s still unsure of her own identity, frequently flitting between different characters, like snake skins, before she grows bored of being bubbly and eager and becomes spiteful again. her core personality traits are probably forthright, impulsive, restless, thrill-seeking, selfish, gregarious, easily bored, childish.
SOME ?MILDLY AMUSING? FACTS
writes shitty poems on the back of napkins and quotes dead philosophers she’s never read. romanticises herself a lot. like will be standing there in a ripped t-shirt and her undies smoking a cig like “hmmm… i bet someone is falling in love with me right now”
is vegetarian for environmental reasons but snorts coke at parties like that isn’t shit for the environment ?? sis, it don’t add up
loves dirt. ate a worm once because someone dared her too. shamelessly disgusting.
she’s slightly obsessed with true crime, up late watching documentaries on the manson family murders.
favourite drink is cherry coke
a lot of her time is spent in the record store, plugged into a set of headphones, head-banging in the corner to a scratched record. music, for birdie, is a form of escapism. that and dropping acid in parking lots lmao.
sells nudes on twitter. whenever she gets low on cash she contacts one of the seedy old men who used to visit her mom’s club to venmo her $500 in return for pictures
that girl who’s always harping on about body positivity on instagram while wearing cute underwear and looking absolutely bomb
really good at rodeo bull riding. the club in marfa had one so as a youth she got really good at it bcos she was constantly tryin to outdo her friends on who could stay on for the longest. a video of her staying on one for like 4 minutes after downing several jager bombs went viral once.
micro-doses acid for mild depression bcos she didn’t believe in “that CBT bullshit”, thought that therapists, like her, were jst con artists so always a bit spaced out
volunteers at one of the local galleries but mostly just rants to old white dutch men about how cis white men have dominated art for years :/ is one of those SJW-types , like.... have a day off, jameela jamil......
has a pet rat called popeye
takes photographs of dead animals to use in her art and often posts them side-by-side with stills of women in porn to show the shelf-life of female sex workers in a patriarchal-dominated industry or some bullshit idk
big into spoken word poetry, even if its shit. likes savage depictions of femininity
wrote a thesis on art as an act of masturbation that got published
this bitch HATES capitalism and LOVES karl marx
time isn’t real. nothing exists. the self is a social construct. finger guns.
an awful person, really
plots i want that i mostly stole from the tags
muse a tries to stand up for muse b in a bar but unfortunately cannot fight for shit.
muse a (prob bridget cos works in a bar) works somewhere that’s open late and muse b comes in to take shelter from the storm.
‘I got in my car and you were sleeping in the backseat who the hell are you and how did you get into my car’
umm a wlw plot isnpired by san junipero ! esp this post. could have been a former fling that ended sourly !! cos i dont like ship forcing but still?? give me wlw stuff
“i just decked you in the face because i’m drunk and you were pissing me off but ow my hand really fucking hurts i think i might have broke it and oh look your nose is bleeding and now we’re both sitting awkwardly in the hospital while i glare at you from across the room. but wait are you giving me sex eyes?? stop that i’m supposed to mad at you??”
“platonically sharing a bed until i wake up and you’re curled round me and my nose is buried in your hair so i’ll pretend to stay asleep to keep this for a little while longer” plots
“highkey want a ‘someone wrote your phone number on the wall of a bathroom in my dorm with ‘call for a good time’ and i just texted you to let you know that i scribbled it out and oh wait you’re actually funny and easy to talk to and now we’re talking every day and i might have a tiny little crush on you even tho i don’t even know your name’ plot”
goddamn its another shippy wlw plot apparently that’s all my tag is but this post
“known for being rebels without cause, MUSE A and MUSE B are synonymous to their fast cars, nights out beneath the stars, empty bottles of alcohol, and loud music. they meet by chance one night and immediately click, and embark on a careless adventure after it despite not knowing each other. it’s them against the world: after all, what could go wrong ?”
any of these sad sour unrequited love plots
‘we take the same elevator every day and due to a misunderstanding I assumed you didn’t speak english and I’ve been talking to my friend about how hot you are for three weeks and apparently my friend has known from the start but you agreed not to tell me bc you both think its hilarious what the fuck’ au
‘I accidentally dropped you while you were crowd surfing and you broke your ankle and now I feel responsible so I’m carrying you out of the moshpit’ au
walked in on my roommate and you screwing except i know you from class and i freaked out a little
i was hustling you in pool for money but you were hustling me for free drinks so who’s the real winner here?
bridgot goes to strip clubs n peep shows like every day, cos she’s writing about the history of pornographic film n its basically research for her, so if ur characters would be into strip clubs they might see her there
i feel like she’d be on student council if they had one of those. shes that kind of bitch, turning up like elle woods with a big feather pen or a light-up heart marker, slamming down some truths before upping and leaving to go for her 11am chai latte break
som1 who attended the art institute in marfa for a summer n maybe knew her when she was a bit younger ??? idk
drama. angst. horror. also nice bike rides in amsterdam please
feel free to im me if u wanna plot, or, like this post and i’ll hit u with a message!
#i have literally just slapped bridget n frida in a blender.#sorry if u had plots with frida. pls feel free 2 discuss w me n we could just do them w one of my other characters instead if it fits.#xxxx plot with me my goblin children xxx#water:intro
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NCT DREAM REACTIONS
➖Request ; “could you do dreamies taking you for ice cream and you come out as trans or you tell them you’re trans and go get ice cream to cheer up, because you cried?”
MARK ; MARK LEE
Mark is very open minded and is capable of having his own opinions. He takes you out to ice cream one day and it sort of slips out of your mouth because you’ve been holding it in for so long.
Mark: Yeah! I’ve always wanted to be an ice cream man, you know?
(Y/n): Yeah, I’ve always wanted to be a cis boy, but here we are.
Mark: ...Did you just come out to me? In front of an ice cream shop?
RENJUN ; HUANG RENJUN
Renjun, I feel, would be the most curious. He would ask the most questions and let his ice cream melt as he’d learn more about the trans community. He tries to keep it lowkey as to not come off as disrespectful.
Renjun: Sorry, I don’t want to be rude.....
(Y/n): (Y/n), Ren.
Renjun: (Y/n)! The name suits you! Ah, I’m sorry, I don’t want to ask questions that make you too uncomfortable!
JENO ; LEE JENO
You try to butter up Jeno before you flat out tell him. Seeing as one of his favorite foods is ice cream and his favorite flavor is mint, you get him a bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. He grabs you a spoon to share, but you’re too busy already crying.
Jeno: Jagi? What’s wrong? What happened? Are you breaking up with me? What’s going on-
(Y/n): I’m a boy, Jeno. I understand if you want to break up.
Jeno: Why would I? You bought me ice cream, so now I can get you whatever you need in order to transition.
(Y/n): You don’t-
Jeno: I want to. Especially if you keep getting me ice cream!
HAECHAN ; LEE DONGHYUCK
When Hyuck invited you to ice cream, you knew you had to stop postponing your coming out to him. You felt like you were hiding so much of yourself to him, and you guys had been dating for a while. You finally muster up the courage to cut your hair to a more masculine style and pick out some that hides your chest. When you guys finally meet up, he cannot take his eyes away from you, and at first he’s confused.
(Y/n): Hyuck!
Haechan: What? I don’t.. Oh. Oh! You’re so handsome, uhh..
(Y/n): (Y/n)!
Haechan: (Y/n)-ah~
JAEMIN ; NA JAEMIN
Jaemin kind of shrugs it off. You’re sitting there, ranting about how this could affect his career if someone found out you were dating someone. Especially if that someone was a trans male. But, he seems so collected and calm that you get a bit more anxious.
Jaemin: With a mouthful of ice cream. Who cares what they think, we can run away to America where it’s acceptable to be that short as a guy.
(Y/n): Nana! This is serious!
Jaemin: Who said it wasn’t?
CHENLE ; ZHONG CHENLE
With Chenle you don’t feel much pressure to tell him, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t anxious. You take him at a fancy restaurant you invited him to and he almost dies choking on his drink when he sees your eyes tearing up.
Chenle: Jagi, we’re teenagers and you brought me to a fancy restaurant to tell me this? Let’s go get ice cream.
(Y/n): Is t-this your way of showing your support?
Chenle: Of course. I’ll ask for extra sprinkles.
JISUNG ; PARK JISUNG
Jisung is a little more hung up on the fact that now he’s either gay, bisexual or a sexuality involving being attracted to men.
(Y/n): Are you.. not comfortable being with me anymore? Because it’s okay.
Jisung: No.. I just owe Lucas twenty dollars, because I bet him that I wasn’t gay, but here I am with a whole boyfriend now. Also, being a transphobe isn’t okay, babe.
#nct#nct dream#nct dream reactions#nct reactions#nct dream x male reader#mark lee#mark lee x male reader#huang renjun#ren jun#renjun x male reader#lee jeno#jeno x male reader#haechan#lee donghyuck#haechan x male reader#donghyuck x male reader#na jaemin#jaemin x male reader#zhong chenle#chenle x male reader#park jisung#jisung x male reader#x male reader
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Sorrows in a Glimpse
Character(s): Toya HeLin; Akiyama Touma Warnings: AU; Not at all FFXIV HeLin reflects on the three years he spent cultivating and searching for Aka, and the reason he can no longer wield a sword. ((A modern AU that blends MXTX novel (Mo Dao Zu Shi; Tian Guan Ci Fu; Scum Villain) inspired Cultivation with many other magical practices across the world. Exchanges with @the-lost-shrine ))
Resting fingers against the chords, the song paused. The reverberating final note mingling with the breathing of his uncle, whose blade was drawn and white hakama stained with tainted blood. How many of those corpses had sprung back to life in reaction to his purification? Would they have to cut down each of them one-by-one. Those lids were heavy. HeLin’s lashes rested against his cheek while gaze cast itself down upon his hands. The right hand trembled as the nerves were starting to wear thin. A minor handicap that he had gotten in a training accident. One that saw him no longer using a sword. One that had forced him to wait.
* It was shortly after the incident at the Ghost City with the child ghost. An XingJun – his shifu – and Bai Biming both had come to find him after he had been missing for more than a moon’s passing. For HeLin it had only been a day, maybe two, but time was different between here (the Ghost City) and there (the living world). The ghost child was properly seen off to the next life while the boy was returned to the An Feng sect for lectures and punishment. HeLin truly had to recite the tenants in handstands from sunrise to sunset. In the middle of the courtyard for all to see. Until he recited the last line for the thousandth and first time exactly. Two moons wasted that he could be chasing leads to find the onmyouji and where they had spirited his Aka off to. Who was he fooling though? HeLin was no sleuth or master of finding others. Even the use of the guqin’s finding and spirit speaking techniques had fallen flat. The only possibility was one of two things: Aka was dead, or Aka was hidden behind something greater than his cultivation could see through. Death wasn’t a possibility. As stated, the ring would have tarnished or broken with the loss of the other. It was a binding that was laced with promises, and here he was struggling to uphold them. Young. Inexperienced. Dumb. A Cultivator still yet grown enough to have his golden core, and too distracted to see through to its formation.
Another month spent in seclusion playing the guqin until his fingers bled. Three moons in which he found no trace.
On the last day of that playing An XingJun came. His words promising. Their conversations long. HeLin would not be allowed to venture to the Ghost City and take its ways to the Youkai Markets until he finished the growth of his golden core. It had sparked a fury in the boy, and for the first-time this young disciple argued with master and slammed a door in his face. For three nights a fit was thrown. His protest meant he fasted and meditated, ignoring the outside world. HeLin pushing his body until it begged for nourishment and he could no longer thwart Bai Biming’s reasonings being recited outside his door. At last the disciple came out to the training grounds, ate at least three bowls creamy rice congee (that was far too mild for his tastes), and finally partook in the spars between the other disciples. One such bought growing heated as he kept pushing himself further and further until a blade slipped just right and a blow wasn’t diverted properly, slicing his arm in such a way to render it useless. Progress was slowed. HeLin could never properly weild a sword with his right arm again. It took almost another year to form his core, and after another year to perfect the cultivation of the transformative arrays all while still playing in hopes the spirits would offer some clue or rumor to where his Aka could be. Until XingHua was remade successfully without damage to the spirit of the tool. Only then would the An Feng sect allow him to run about again and return home. So much time lost. Please, Aka, I’m still trying to find you. Please be fine. The only clue he had was that ring that still could not be undone, and rumors that were two years old, when he returned to Japan. *
HeLin pushed back the hat and let the veil fall away from his features as he looked through the branches and up to the moon that was making its descent now. The way his heart tugged in that moment. It felt like something truly dreadful was nearby. The overwhelming sense of it clouding out what the source possibly could be, but the son of Hua Jin would be a fool not to recognize the true depths of demonic cultivation. “Whatever did this is near,” Touma stated the obvious, “we should head that way.” “Will it be safe?” “Likely not, but I’ll send a signal just in case.” They both knew. It was something far worse than HeLin’s true father, or at least on his level. The two turned to run that way. XingHua returned to the state of a hair pin held firmly in his left hand as they went. His soft soled boots hardly making a sound upon the leaves. When they broke past a the third path and past a large old tree, one of the corpses were near. It saw them and lunged only to be stopped on Touma’s blade. As it hung there, HeLin froze. Green eyes locked on the symbol of Hanakaze shrine – a long gone place.
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{ SOFIA BLACK-D’ELIA, 27, cis female, she/her, muse an } welcome friend! you know, i just saw ANDROMEDA “ANDY” WILLIAMS in town. it’s good to see them. they’ve been staying in town for ONE YEAR and making a living as an ASSISTANT MANAGER OF THE BOWLING ALLEY. not too bad. i hear they can be a bit CRASS, but LOVING. so, really who blames them? i hear they’ve been thinking about SETTLING DOWN AND FINDING PEACE. good for them. { it’s ash, y’all }
here she is, finally, the chaotic bisexual who likes to ruin lives, under the cut you’ll find bio info and some wanted connections !! suicide mention and death and severe poverty tws below. like this or just hit me up for plotting !!
info:
andromeda roselle williams was born in nyc in 1919 to very wealthy parents, her father being old money
only child
she’s born on halloween
her childhood was very lavish and she was wanting for nothing ever
she had the pony, the private tutors, the friends, she had everything
ever since being very small, her parents valued her education and by the time she was old enough to walk practically, she was being tutored in french, german, italian, russian, and japanese
she also loved spending time in her father’s office when he was working, trying to make sense of the stock business
she never liked going by andromeda, and instead preferred her father’s nickname of “andy”
her life was just short of perfect until late october of 1929
everything was lost
everything, her family had nothing come the 29th of october and that night, her father killed himself
her mother was distraught and andy was numb, not understanding fully what was happening
her mother tried to send her away to her aunt’s house, she wasn’t too bad off yet, and her mother didn’t know how to raise a child by herself and she just wanted the best for her daughter
andy didn’t understand this, and grew angry with her mother, so on the train to her aunt’s house, andy snuck off and disappeared into the night
she was an incredibly smart child, so she made it work
chores and favors here and there for people for food or a place to sleep
when that didn’t, she stole or conned for the the things she needed
to get around, she rode the rails, hitchhiked, walked, she one time even found an abandoned horse in the dust bowls of oklahoma and she rode him to minnesota before finding him a good home
met the worst and best of people on her travels
and andy met who a little boy who basically grew to be her little brother and she took care of him
his mother was sick, but took care of him and when andy landed on her doorstep, she took the girl in too
the dad was long gone
the mother ended up dying, but andy promised to take care of the little boy
and she did
she took him on all of her travels and they grew to be a real family, just the two of them
she took care of him and fiercely loves him
the issue is now she was another mouth to feed and he’s even less useful that her for work, so stealing and conning it is
she got really good, like could make only her fool good
as they grew, they became the scoundrels of the tracks, but they had each other
one snowing night in 1937, now 18, they found themselves in new york city
her brother wanted to see the sights, and andy finally grew enough courage to go back to her hometown
while exploring the poorer parts of the city, she found a person she never thought she’d see, her mother
and her mother was on her death bed
they reconciled and andy held her hand as she died
the loss of so many friends and family was beginning to take a toll of the girl, and she started going down a darker path, blackmail, threats, and injury were no longer things she wouldn’t do to survive
she killed her first man 1938 when he tried to hurt her brother
she didn’t like it, but she also felt absolutely no remorse for him
her and her brother never spoke about it
the heists, the cons, the embezzlement, all of it started getting riskier
as things were improving in the late 30′s and 40′s, so did their lives, but andy wasn’t keen to give up her way of life, she just really didn’t know any other way and change terrified her because change had very rarely ever brought the girl anything good
change came for her though, two days after the bombing of pearl harbor
she was arrested off the streets and brought to building she hoped never to see, the headquarters of the fbi in new york city
her language skills, her proclivity for violence, her insane wit, and her skill set didn’t go unnoticed
she was given a deal she couldn’t refuse, she was given immunity for her numerous crimes and her and her brother would be made legal family, he’d be taken care of, and he’d be given immunity from the draft if she served as a spy and assassin for the military in their most delicate cases
if she didn’t she’d definitely be going to jail and he would be drafted immediately
there was quite literally no other choice
so, the was recruited into the early form of secret services
when they were doing weapon training, discovered what a deadly shit andy was
she helped get important info the d-day invasion, intercepted a lot of plans and cargo lines
has over 150 confirmed kills
was entrusted to do spy work and take out high, sensitive, and valuable targets
as well as intel gathering and transporting high priority and highly sensitive messages and info
she has been personally thanked by the heads of the allied forces for her service
earned a reputation for being a cold blooded and terrifying killer, and a nickname, the red butcher
after the war ended (she was involved with the manhattan project and man, does that keep her up at night), she and her brother moved out to redwater for a fresh start
she’s working as an assist manager at the bowling alley mainly because would you tell her no?
she’s tired man, she’s just tired and wants a break
does not care what you think
is mysterious
wanted connections:
alright, here we go
she’s... a loose and fast lady, so friends with benefits, girl, boy, whatever, doesn’t matter, but also, rip if you kiss and tell with her, she likes being discreet and likes the less known about her as possible
drinking buddies, she goes out at night and dances and gets drunk
someone come fight with her, she loves a good fight
people to go shooting with tbh
outdoor activity buddies in general, she loves hiking, canoeing, fishing, hunting, horse back riding, all of it
a friend that like, they actually cuddle and she opens up to and has a good relationship with
if you are looking for more characters, then her brother and the other half to her plot would be awesome!!
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gay goth boy trans ftm4ftm story chapter 4 under cut.
content warning: f*g used by gays in punk songs/underage substance use
Chapter 4
Goat Mansion already had a lot of people sitting outside when I got there, which was way too early. The sun was still on the edge of the horizon. I parked my car two streets away, since I don’t like being a designated driver for more than my friends. I walked over to the house, approaching from the street side, and saw the gaggle of people from half a block away. They were sitting on the sidewalk and gathered in a little circle near the fence that divides Goat Mansion space from the edge of the public lands by the train tracks. The teenage goth kids were fraternizing with some crust punks and some people who might have been homeless teenagers from the group that lives in the train tunnel downtown. I didn’t recognize anyone, which made sense because OVID was coming from out of town so probably brought out different fans. One of the teenage goth kids had a thing of cheap boxed red wine but had taken the wine bag out of the box and was passing it around to her friends, having everyone chug, shouting BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD. One of the girls with her let the wine overflow her mouth and run down to soak into her black mesh shirt. They were all about my age or a little younger. I thought it looked like fun, but I don’t like drinking, so I didn’t get too close as I made my way around the house to the back. I knew people would be starting a bonfire.
Bonfires in late summer are hard, because lately there’s been a burn ban for longer and longer into the autumn. This September, there hadn’t been enough rain to totally put everyone in the clear. And nobody wants to start a wildfire. But Goat Mansion has a rock pit that’s pretty big, and it’s easy to put out the fire with sand and water if it gets too much or starts sparking. When I got there, Acorn was piling the logs up and working with a piece of flint to spark it. Xie doesn’t use any gasoline because, again, too much risk for a big burn that gets out of control.
“Hey,” I said to Acorn. “Seen anyone from Rocketpizza yet?”
Acorn turned. “Oh, hey, James,” xie said. Xie nodded hir head towards the sliding doors at the back of the house. “Just Ian. I think he was with Ken earlier, but Ken said something about 4Lokos and walked to the store and hasn’t come back.”
“Who’s buying Ken 4Lokos? That sounds like a bad start to the night,” I said. “Has anyone here brought up that sober space thing they’re trying at Fleur’s North? Suggested having a sober only show sometimes?”
“No, we’ve always kinda been a party house. Not likely to change. Somewhere needs to be messy. People don’t like it, they move. Why?”
“There’s definitely some visible and intense public underage drinking happening out front right now.”
“Shit,” Acorn said. “Is it those goth kids?” Xie pushed hir hair out of hir eyes. Acorn has really long hair and a beard that increases in both length and glossy volume every time I see hir. Xie wears mascara to shows. Tonight xie had on a Carly Rae Jepsen shirt and a plaid skirt.
“Yeah,” I said. “Nobody from Compton, but definitely under eighteen. You want me to go tell them to come back here and be more discreet?”
“Just like, get them some water and tell them to chill. They’re gonna pass out before the show even starts, or start moshing and hurting someone. I hate when there’s too many teens at shows. No offense,” xie added. “I forget you’re a teen because you’re chill.”
“I don’t drink much. If I did I’d probably be rowdier. It is a teen band tonight. Or like, two, actually. With Quince Quest.”
“Maybe I’ll make some food and cultivate a chill pre-show vibe and get some calories in the kids. Some bread. It’s not that I don’t want them to enjoy music.” Acorn prodded the little fire that was starting in the pit. “Just like, read the agreements for the space that we put on all the doors of the space, you know?”
The agreements, for Goat Mansion, on all the doors, were as follows:
NO NAZIS OR RAPISTS.
DO NOT fucking come to a show looking to start a fucking fight.
NO COPS
Don’t get fucking wasted before 10 PM.
Don’t touch anyone without asking
NO SMOKING OR DRINKING ON THE STOOP. Come to the backyard.
DO NOT MESS AROUND ON THE STREET! Come to the backyard.
IF YOU MAKE A MESS HELP CLEAN IT.
IF THERE IS NO TOILET PAPER, OR THE TOILET FLOODS, PLEASE YELL FOR ASSISTANCE. DO NOT SNEAK AWAY.
FOR REAL ABSOLUTELY NO DRINKING OR SMOKING ON STOOP. FOR REAL. THERE IS A BACKYARD.
It was a pretty concise list that covered most things that anyone cared about. And it was pretty easy to follow, though of course I had no way of knowing if any nazis or rapists ignored the first bullet point.
I went around the corner of the house and into the kitchen. I filled a big old plastic pitcher that seemed relatively clean with tap water and grabbed a sleeve of plastic cups from under the sink. I knew where everything was here, even though I didn’t have any friends who lived here any more except Acorn. Last year I had been the one to clean the kitchen for the first time in a decade and stock it with plastic cups. If you don’t have cups everyone ends up drinking out of the tap like dogs or just getting disgustingly dehydrated.
“Hey,” I called to the goth kids, stepping out on the front porch, “You all look like you might need some water soon.”
“Thanks,” the mesh shirt girl said.
“You’re starting early. Can you bring the party around back? We don’t like annoying neighbor people too much. They call the cops sometimes,” I said. “There’s more room back there, too.” I felt okay bossing them because none of the goth kids would have the nerve to question the authority of someone who was wearing safety pin earrings like they were.
“No problem,” the girl holding the blood bag of wine said. She giggled to her friends, probably about how messy they were being.
I sat around with the goths by the smoking baby bonfire and smoked a bowl alone before I saw Ian. He was walking quickly around the corner of the house, looking like the human embodiment of that cat meme where the cat is grimacing. I got up and jogged after him.
“What’s the deal with Ken?” I asked, catching him by the elbow. “Heard he like left and didn’t come back?”
“Don’t fucking ask,” Ian said. He had glitter makeup on, which I thought was cute, if a little 2012. He looked really good. “Ken’s fucking gone as far as I’m concerned. Which is whatever. We knew this day was coming.”
“Wait, Rocketpizza is still performing, right?”
“Yeah,” Ian said. “Some kid from Centralia who’s playing drums for Quince Quest is here, she said she’d do drums for me. We went over the basic stuff with the songs earlier. She can’t be any worse than Ken would be. He was getting plastered at noon when I went over there today. I have no idea where he is.”
“Dude, that fucking sucks,” I said.
“I mean, you guys were all absolutely correct about him. I’m stressed right now but I’ll be fine.”
“Where’s swimmer boy?”
“We broke up.”
“Shit, dude.”
“Don’t wanna talk about it. I’ll process with you tomorrow.”
“You need help with merch?”
“Yes, absolutely. Later, though. No point right now. After the show. Right now we’re doing music setup shit since we’re on first.”
“At least you’ll have a crowd.”
“These druggy Seattle kids?” Ian rolled his eyes.
“They’re just drunk. I’m working on hydrating them.”
The sun was going down, and more people were arriving. I put Ian’s merch in a taped up box underneath the table by the door that had been set up to collect people’s pay-what-you-can donations to Goat Mansion. I wanted to talk to him more, but it was clear that wasn’t gonna happen. I sat with the table. Acorn was drawing smiley faces on the hands of people who paid. People who didn’t pay and didn’t get smiley faces wouldn’t get kicked out, but they might get snarked at by someone if they were being obnoxious and they wouldn’t be allowed to drink any house alcohol. Everyone expected the show to start one to three hours after the posted start time, but everyone turned up at the time on the posters anyway to smoke or catch up with people or drop their backpacks and walk eighteen blocks away to the store to buy beer. The sun slanted through the windows like liquid gold and someone put a VHS of Fire Walk With Me on in the living room, where it already smelled like cigarettes. It was all cis men in there, who seemed like they all knew each other and might be shitheads, so I stayed outside once the merch was set up. Everyone in the backyard was vivid shades of gold and pink and brown against the bright green of the trees. The smoke was rising more and more out of the fire pit. That was when I saw the guy from King David’s. Orsino. He was getting out of a pickup truck.
His hair was still fucked up and wispy orange and crackly from bleach, and he had a fucked up little mustache still, but he was wearing a different stupid shirt. This one was black, had a big gray alien head on it, and it said ROSWELL. It was tighter around his chest and stomach and arms than the dolphin shirt had been at the diner. He was wearing ripped up pants that terminated just below his knee. They looked like they’d been chewed by dogs. His calves were thick and covered in dark hair. He had on hiking boots with wool socks. He didn’t see me. As soon as he got out of the car, he turned back and started talking to someone on the driver’s side of the car. He was still somewhere between pretty hot and extremely hot.
I saw the person get out on the other side of the car and realized that it was Jukebox. Jukebox had a guitar case with them and stuck around for just a second before heading into the garage, where I knew that Ian was setting up. Orsino said something to them and then walked toward the house, lighting a cigarette as he went.
I wondered what Orsino’s personality was like. I didn’t know Orsino at all. But I felt something about him already—something sort of like what Therese feels for Carol when she first sees Carol in The Price of Salt by Patricia Highsmith or Carol (2015). When her eyes go wide and she knows it doesn’t matter what happens next, because the important thing has already happened. She’s seen her. Or maybe that was dramatic, but like, I was a little stoned. I wondered if I should go say hi.
“James!” Opal shouted at me from across the yard.
I looked over to see Opal and Barb and Goober coming towards me, accompanied by a dude I didn’t know. Opal was wheeling their chair over the mangled grass. I hoped that there weren’t any nails around that might puncture the tires.
“Oh hey,” I said, waving.
“Jamie!” Barb rushed in and gave me a hug. She has pink short hair and lots of sun freckles and deep wrinkles around her eyes. If you ignore her skin, she looks like she’s about sixteen. She’s always sort of manic and I think she’s really smart but you probably have to wait until four in the morning for her to start talking about smart people things. She reminds me of a version of my mom that took up dance and punk music and boxing instead of becoming a teacher.
“This is Duke,” Opal said, raising an eyebrow and gesturing to the man. I looked up at him. He didn’t look trans. He had a really curly head of long back hair and a thick beard and a lot of tattoos and smiley eyes. He looked like a biker that a country singer would date.
“Sup,” Duke said. “Nice to meet you.”
“You’re meeting everyone tonight,” Goober said, throwing her blond hair over one shoulder. “James works at Compton House too, with the teen council thing.”
“Hey Duke,” I said. “Nice to meet you. You like OVID?” I gave him a man handshake, with a firm grip. He looked like he would respect that.
“Yeah, since they got started I’ve come to almost every show,” Duke said. “Me and Stacey go way back.”
“Barb used to date Stacey, right?” I asked. “Is that how you guys know each other?” I wasn’t going to allude to the fact that Barb and Duke were fucking.
“Kind of,” Barb said. She sat down on a stump next to me. “I love that we’re all here at this show together. I feel a great kind of continuity.” She grinned up at Duke, who looked at her with the most disgustingly lovey gaze I have ever seen in this world. I looked at Opal, who shrugged.
“You seen Ian yet?” I asked Opal.
“No. What’s up?” Opal could tell in my voice that something was wrong.
“Ken is drunk somewhere and Ian is gonna do the show with a replacement drummer,” I said.
“What? Who?”
“Some kid from the other band. Quince Quest.”
“The fuck he is. I’m gonna drum for him. I have to join his band,” Opal said. They started rolling their chair backward and pivoting it toward the garage.
“Maybe later,” I said. “Not tonight. He’s stressed. Swimmer boy troubles. Drummer troubles. Too much. He’ll snap at you.”
“I know his songs, dude,” Opal said. “I know he’s stressed, but I can do it better than a quince kid. I’ve been practicing on the drums at Barb’s.”
“Do you need help getting to the garage?” I asked. There was a lot of gravel between here and there.
“I’m good, dude.” Opal turned away from me, and I felt a little abandoned.
“Do you want backup?”
“Let them go talk to him,” Goober said. “You’ll be all touchy feely and Opal will just boss him. That’s what he needs.”
“You said it,” Opal yelled over their shoulder.
Duke turned to me. His eyes were irrepressibly crinkly. “So James. Barb talks about you and Opal and Compton House all the time. How long have you been on the Compton House teen council? What do you think of it?”
I shrugged. I didn’t want to give this guy too much of a leg up on the competition if he was really applying to be director. “I mean, it’s very important. We did an awareness training for a church two weeks ago about mental health and teens. I feel like I’m connected to local politics and stuff, even if it means I know the dirt about everyone.”
Barb laughed.
“You remind me of me. I was involved in the first committee for Ladyfest when it happened here in 2000,” Duke said. “I was on security. I sat in on all the meetings for planning.”
“That’s nice,” I said. “Continuity.”
I looked away from Duke and Barb, hoping they’d see someone they knew and go talk to them.
***
It was two hours later when word spread slowly through the mass of people that the show was starting. The sun had gone down and I had three mosquito bites, even though it should have been too cold. There was standing water in one of the barrels behind Goat Mansion, and that always meant the mosquitos survived longer here than anywhere. Everyone but me was getting drunk. I hadn’t gotten any closer to Orsino, though he’d caught my eye just before everyone went down to the garage and crowded in through the single side door. I thought I saw him smile, but I could have been wrong.
The room was dark and ugly and packed. There are lights on the stage and then a tangle of wires near the stage that some fire safety expert was supposed to probably evaluate at some point after the Ghost Ship fire, but I don’t think it ever happened. There’s a lot of random piles of shit near the door that should be a main point of egress, and people sit on it like it’s benches at a ball game. It’s definitely not structurally stable. The lights that shine down on the tiny little stage are beautiful. Tonight there was pink and red gels over them, so it looked like a sex party or a weird pretty Hell.
Ian was wearing his fishnet arm wraps, a lot of glitter, and Goober’s leather miniskirt that that she’d worn to Pride in June. His wrists were covered in bangles. His chest was bare. His hair was sort of flopping over his face. He was fumbling with a lot of wires onstage. Opal was behind the drums. I hadn’t actually heard Opal play before, since they’d only started after they moved to Barb’s house. I didn’t know if they were good or not, but I guessed that they might be if they were going up. Opal was pretty clear-headed and wouldn’t put themselves on the spot if they thought they’d fail. Devon had on his normal clothes and looked pissed as fuck, but he was tuning his bass just the same.
“ROCKETPIZZA!!!!!” Barb yelled. Some of the goths yelled too, as did the cis men who had been watching a movie inside. There were suddenly a lot of people around me, and I was worried about my feet getting stepped on by the dudes with the steel toed boots. I’m not dumb enough to wear non-sturdy footwear to a show, but I’m small.
Ian looked into the crowd, squinting. I don’t know if he knows Barb’s voice well enough to recognize a screech. He dropped some wires and stepped to the mic.
“HEY BITCHES AND BABES AND FAGGOTS,” he yelled into the crowd. His voice got soft on the last word. There was a mix of cheers and uncomfortable muttering. Ian was oblivious to the latter. “HOW ARE YOU DOING?”
Barb and Duke both bellowed at the stage, incoherent jumbled exuberance. Old punks at least know how to bellow.
“I’LL TELL YOU HOW I’M DOING,” Ian yelled into the mic, which twanged painfully over the speakers. “MY BOYFRIEND AND I JUST BROKE UP AND I LOST MY OLD DRUMMER BECAUSE HE IS A DUMBASS.”
There were some confused boos and apologetic noises, particularly from the goths near the front of the stage. All the teen goths were pretty far gone. I saw one of them swaying in her heels.
“BUT THAT IS OKAY,” Ian continued. “ROCKETPIZZA DIED TONIGHT. I LOOK GREAT. OPAL LOOKS GREAT ON DRUMS. GIVE IT UP FOR OPAL.”
I yelled at the top of my lungs, feeling like it was a kind of weird ecstatic prayer. The guy with a beard next to me moved away from me in surprise.
“WE ARE A NEW GROUP NOW. OUR NAME IS MISS SAN JUAN AND THE DUSTIES. YOU’RE HERE TO WITNESS THE BIRTH OF A GOOFY NEW QUEERCORE BAND. ISN’T THAT EXCITING?”
Ian was good at riling up a crowd. People were getting more interested in this seventeen year old twink yelling at them.
“ALSO YOU WILL PROBABLY WITNESS THE DEATH OF MY VOCAL CHORDS BECAUSE I AM ABOUT TO SCREAM MY GUTS OUT. THIS IS A NEW SONG. IT IS CALLED FOOLSLUT IN RETROGRADE.” Ian shook his head and smiled and blinked in the way that had made me fall sort of in love with him when we were fifteen.
The drunk baby goths went hog wild, and I screamed at the top of my lungs again and whistled through the gap in my teeth, like my grandmother had taught me to do when I was five.
Then Ian opened his mouth to sing.
(insert here: a piece of torn notebook paper, with the title: FOOLSLUT IN RETROGRADE LYRICS)
THOUGHT YOU WERE GONNA SHAKE ME
FROM THE POOL OF BLACK INK
ATOP YOUR FIRE ESCAPE
I BREATHE IN THE STINK
OF YOUR SMELLY BALLS
I FEEL NOTHING AT ALL
THE PLANETS WERE ALIGNED
NOW WE’RE BADLY COMBINED
SOLO QUIERO LLEVAR TUS BRAGAS
SOLO QUIERO TOCAR TU BOCA
SOLO QUIERO TENER TUS LLAGAS
PARA TERMINAR ESTA EPOCA
I’M IN PAIN I’M INSANE
WE ARE SMASHING THE WORLD
I’M IN PAIN I’M INSANE
YOUR DEPRESSED BITCH GIRL
BOY
SHUT UP YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING
BOY
SHUT UP YOU DON’T KNOW ANYTHING
FILL MY MIND WITH SMOKE
SMOKE IT IN YOUR BONG
GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE
SO LONG SO LONG
WE DON’T WANT IT OR NEED IT
I NEED YOU TO BEAT IT
END THE WORLD
END THE WORLD
END THE WORLD
FUCK
(end paper)
When Ian’s set ended fifteen minutes later, the pit had fully opened up.
People were swaying and had been punching and pushing into each other. I’d gotten slammed against the wall twice and had been shoved into someone’s armpit four times. Which was like, not normal for an opening band. Usually people just stood awkwardly staring with their PBRs in their hands, rocking a little or jamming their heads if the band was good. But some combination of everyone already being wasted and of Opal’s drumming—which was actually really good—and of Ian jumping fully into the air…everyone got electrified somehow. I felt my B.O swelling up toward the ceiling with everyone else’s and the heat from us all supercharging the air like it was some kind of ancient magically charged sweat house made of old cedar in the deep wilderness of the Russian steppe. Ian’s glitter was dripping down his chest in waves. I felt my own shirt soaking with the sweat. My lungs hurt from yelling, and I was reeling still. I watched Ian turn and unplug his amp and walk offstage just before the crush of bodies trying to get out into the cold air totally obscured my view of him. I tried to keep my head above the crowd, thanking god that I wasn’t super sensitive to noise, smells, or sensory overstimulation.
“That was incredible,” a voice behind me said. I didn’t recognize it. I turned slightly. Jukebox January was behind me, smiling. Their chin hairs were darker than I remembered them. They were shorter than me. They had smudged pink eyeliner in one long band around their eyes. Their shirt was torn so I could see one of their nipples through the fabric.
“Yeah,” I said. “It got so hot in here so fast. We gotta wait a bit for the air to cool down before yours, huh.”
“That set!” Jukebox exclaimed. “Like, that was phenomenal! So good and raw but also like, they’re real! They’re so good. We gotta get this kid a record deal so fast if he wants to sell out! He’s your friend, right?”
I smiled. I felt so happy for Ian. He loved OVID. Tonight had been hard, but it was going to turn out so good for him. “Yeah,” I said. “I’m James. We go to school together. I’ve known him a long ass time. He’s so good.”
“What’s going on with the band?” Jukebox asked. Their teeth were all showing in their smile. “Some shuffling stuff? Do you think the current situation will hold together? They literally sounded so so good.”
“I literally don’t even know,” I said. “But he loves you, he loves OVID. Like he and his followed you to the Gorge this summer and then down to the Bay when you were on tour. You should talk to him.” I was glad I was able to be so chill when my heart was pounding into my ears from the adrenaline.
“Let’s go,” Jukebox said. “I gotta touch base with my bandmates in a second but I wanna give him props. What’s his full name? Does he go by Miss San Juan? Or she?”
“Ian,” I said. “Ian Arroyo. And he uses he/him, at least for now.”
“Cool. What about you?”
“James,” I said. I led Jukebox out into the yard. The cool night air with the smell of decay and everything hit my skin and my mouth all at the same time. It was a second before I saw Ian over by the truck with Opal in the dark. Opal was smoking, and Ian was moving something in the bed of the truck. I screamed loud and high pitched as we got close so he could hear me.
“That was incredible, bitch!”
Ian turned. He smiled weakly. “I’m so so so shaking,” he yelled back. His bare chest was getting goosebumps in the cold. He was so beautiful.
“Look who I brought,” I yelled, thrusting a thumb back at Jukebox, who lifted a hand in greeting. Ian stood up immediately. He leapt over the side of the truck bed to land on both feet in the gravel in front of us.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” Jukebox said. “That was incredible. I wanted to make sure you knew. I’m Jukebox.”
“I know,” Ian said. “I can’t wait for your set. I’m so so tired but I’m gonna stay here till the end.”
“I literally haven’t ever played drums live before,” Opal said.
“You were great for all that,” Jukebox said.
I turned away from them and turned toward the bonfire. I tried to make out through the dark who was still here that I knew. People were dancing a little near the fire and there was a cluster of lit cigarette ends floating in the shadows just beyond my field of vision.
“Come hang out with me,” Jukebox was saying to Ian. “My friends are over here. My girlfriend Robin was loving your set too, but she has issues with moshing so had to step out when it got intense. Someone threw a bottle and it nearly hit her.”
“Oh, that sucks,” Opal said.
We moved over toward the patch of the yard where Jukebox’s friends were. I could smell the smoke and the blackberries and the wood and sweat and smoke and I felt like I was still on some kind of crazy high. Orsino was sitting there, like I knew he would be. There was a space next to him on the log he was sitting on. He looked up and smirked at me and I sat down next to him without a second thought.
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Falling for Danger // Ethan Dolan
Summary: Meeting the twins in the most unconventional way in pursuit of an armed suspect wasn’t something you imagined. As a SWAT member you keep them self in the rush before leaving them with nightmares and haunted memories. Of course that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t see them again.
Characters: Ethan Dolan x Reader, Grayson Dolan, Hondo, Deacon, Tan, Chris and Luca.
Words: 2.2k
Disclaimer: I do not own the SWAT tv series or the characters involved. I don’t own at gifs or images that may appear.
Warnings: Swearing, blood, fighting, and guns.
Author: Caitsy
A/N: I grew to love the reimagined SWAT tv series that’s based on the original 1970s show. This one stars Shemar Moore. I thought a crossover with the Dolan Twins would be cool and there is one more part to this. Enjoy and comment, reblog and like.
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Youngest member of SWAT in history with six months under your belt and you were already part of the family despite the bad start. You were nearly late on your first day ending with a few choice words with the team leader and a speeding ticket on your motorcycle. It was hard to get where you were but you enjoyed it. You were the one that more background driving with severe talent and a gift of drifting.
You were in the debriefing room with the rest of the team watching the two screens lift from the table into eye level. Hondo, the new team leader was on the other side of the table with teammate Victor Tan and Dominique Luca. To your left was the only other female Chris and Deacon to your right.
“We’ll be going in through this side while Mumford’s team will parallel the other side.” Hondo pointed out stepping back from the screens, “Suit up.”
Once in the SWAT truck you patiently checked your uniform as Luca started driving the truck you had nicknamed Betty. Chris sat across from you strapping on her helmet while the others got ready for another dangerous mission.
“Alright listen up?” Hondo spoke. Everyone nodded before Chris roughly shoved open the back doors of Betty, “My CI says the heroin drop was last night. Supplier rented an Airbnb to cut and package it in a seedier part of town. Three maybe four guards.”
“Be ready for surprises.” Deacon called from the front seat.
You and Tan maneuvered yourselves to the left side of the wall while the others got into position, once everyone was close you pulled four black circular devices out and placed them in the corners of the door. Once all were blinking a blue colour you stepped back to take cover before pressing a button. The door exploded while everyone flooded inside.
“LAPD SWAT.” Hondo called out followed by the echoes of the rest of the team.
Making quick work you grabbed a perp holding a pipe to kick his knee and push him face first into the ground.
“Stay down!” You yelled at the perp struggling below you. You zip tied his wrists while Tan held a gun over him. Out of the corner of your eye you saw a perp racing out a door, “I got the rabbit!”
You put the safety on your rifle before securing it on your back while you ran after the perp holding tight on your Kimber pistol. The perp ran into the alley between the terrible run down house through a few blocks before you found yourself in a warehouse dominated area.
“Stop!” You called out taking cover behind a car when he stopped to shoot you. Peeking out you aimed your gun on him unable to get a shot before taking race once more. He ran inside an open warehouse before stopping.
“LAPD stop!” You shouted once more as he pointed his gun at you. Screams from up above rang out, “Put the gun down now!”
Ignoring you he hid behind a wall while you quickly traded the pistol for your rifle once more as you plastered yourself against a wall. You peeked around the wall to see a jittery pair of young men, you gestured them away while you moved along the wall but when you turned around the wall where he was but he was gone.
You started to stand straight when you were shoved to the ground with a lot of force by the long haired perp. You grunted rolling over top of him your rifle shoved out of your hands while the gun was pointed at you. You gripped the wrist of the arm holding the gun twisting until he dropped it and grabbing your rifle.
“Stay down.” You firmly spoke.
“Bitch.” He spat grabbing under him to pull another gun.
Two bangs echoed in the warehouse as he fell limp on the ground with blood spreading on his shirt and below him.
“Suspect down.” You spoke into your comm before giving the address of the location.
“He’s dead.” A whisper spoke gaining your attention. Your rifle was swiftly levelled on the two males staring at you with wide eyes, “Don’t shoot!”
In a few minutes Hondo on the others were inside the warehouse gathering around you while the two strangers sat pale in chairs. People milled around the body both officers in blue and a detective with FBI involved.
“I’ll talk.” You nodded heading over to the boys sans your helmet and kneeling, “Hey guys. I’m Y/N, call me Del.”
“Del?” The one boy asked confused.
“Short for Citadel. A while back I talked to a young boy with a learning disability and highly intelligent. He told me I was like a Citadel trained to protect during the attack on him. It stuck.”
“Oh.” The other one gulped.
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” You softly spoke, “What are your names?”
“Ethan Dolan and this is my brother Grayson.” One spoke and you took the time to take in their features. Both had hazel eyes and dark hair with tanned skin. Each had beauty marks on their faces in different areas.
“Twins?” You asked.
“Yeah.” Ethan smirked at Grayson, “We learnt we’re identical.”
“Aren’t you a little young to be SWAT?” Grayson asked you ignoring his brother.
“Maybe.” You chuckled standing up when a male detective made his way over, “Detective Ryan will take your statement.”
You wandered back to the team speaking with each other before drawing you into the conversation. You were all successful in collecting drugs equivalent to a few thousand dollars and helping a hostage discovered when you took chase.
“Nice job team.” Hondo spoke making sure to meet all of your eyes, “We’ll head back to HQ for paperwork and we’ll go on our way.”
On your way out to Betty you turned to see Ethan staring at you in interest while the colour slowly returned to his face. With a tap on your shoulder from Chris you climbed into the back of Betty settling in with the rest of the team. The adrenaline slowly wearing off like it normally did.
The cafe was fairly busy on your day off while you were reading the novel you were slowly making your way through. An aesthetically large white coffee cup sat on a matching small plate with an empty bowl of your breakfast. Many mornings you were unable to sleep in so you would make your way to the local cafe to start the day.
“Y/N right?”
Your head moved to look up at a male standing in front of you with the sun blocking your vision as to who it exactly was. When he stepped closer you pegged him as one of the Dolan twins from a few weeks back. You dog eared the page you were on before sliding into the backpack at your feet.
“Your one of the twins right?” You asked confused.
“Ethan.” He smiled, “Can I sit?”
You inconspicuously scanned the cafe seeing many open tables before nodding him to the other side of the table for two. You scanned his features looking for any hints of residual trauma but found only the faintest shadow under his eyes.
“How are you doing?” You asked sitting straight, “Any nightmares?”
“Uh. No, not anymore.” He spoke blinking slowly, “I mean Gray and I did go to the recommended therapist you guys suggested. It worked a lot.”
“That’s good.”
“Do you work today?” He asked, “I don’t know how being a SWAT member entails.”
“It’s my day off.” You smiled at him, “What do you do Ethan?”
“Grayson and I run a YouTube channel. We’ve been doing it for years now.” Ethan beamed, “We started on Vine when we were fourteen and it’s been nonstop since.”
“How old are you guys? Nineteen?” You asked taking a sip from your cup.
“Twenty.” He smiled, “What about you?”
“Recently twenty-two.” You chuckled pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear.
“This is a little forward but can I have your number?” Ethan questioned. You tilted your head thinking of the pros and cons on the question.
“I’m a cop.” You slowly answered, “I live a life that people find hard to be in.”
“There’s something about you I can’t get out of my mind.”
“I killed someone in front of you. Unless you had amnesia than I don’t find it odd that you remember me.”
A shiver ran down Ethan’s back visibly shaking the memories off with a wince included. You watched carefully as the skin pinched between his eyes and a black cloud fall on him for a mere few seconds. You saw the naive version of yourself on the first day of your job not prepared for the lives you would have to take.
“Yeah.” He nodded gazing past you at the art filled wall.
“It’s okay you know.” You spoke, “To be afraid of memories.”
“You don’t seem scared.”
“I’m SWAT.” You crookedly smiled frowning when your phone beeped with the signature sound you associated with the job, “Shit.”
“What?” Ethan asked as you hurried to get up and collect your things.
“Duty calls.”
“I thought you were off?”
“I’m never truly off.” You chuckled handing him a card, “That’s my card if you ever want to talk or get a tour.”
He stared at the card while you grabbed a motorbike helmet off the the ground jogging to the entry of the cafe. You strolled to the Honda 600 Hornet you were proud to call your own before sliding your backpack on followed with the helmet before starting the bike.
Ethan stood outside of the cafe watching you wave and take off into the traffic away from him and closer to danger. You whizzed past the cars before stopping at the little parking area designated to motorbikes. Once inside you bumped into a male you didn’t recognize.
“Sorry.” You mumbled jogging into the debriefing room where Hondo, Tan, and Luca were standing.
“Sorry to pull you all off from your day off.” Captain Cortez announced holding tablet in her hand watching as the other members joined the rest of you.
“Okay, what wrong?” Deacon asked crossing his arms.
“We have a festival going on near the area that we had the riot a while back. We’ve been asked to send in a team to patrol the grounds. Mumford’s team is on call for another assignment.” Captain Cortez explained with a sympathetic smile.
“Alright. You heard the lady. Suit up.” Hondo spoke already circling the table for the doorway not before sharing a fleeting look with Captain Cortez. Your eyes settled on them for a millisecond before you continued to the locker room.
It felt a little odd wearing the police dress uniform with the short black sleeve button down over the white t-shirt. Your badge secured on your left breast bone along with the radio strapped to the front of the shirt and your name tag on the opposite side. Your duty belt holding the handcuffs, hand ties, your gun along with the other pieces.
It looked like the cheap version of a music festival with litter on the ground and people milling around the area. Tan and you walked the perimeter with practiced ease maneuvering around people and keeping an eye on others.
“Did you know that Buck had a kid he was a mentor to?” Tan asked crossing his arms as you both came to a stop, “It came down to you and some guy named Street.”
“Street?” You scoffed, “What the hell kind of parent names their kid Street?”
“Last name.” Tan informed you, “He’s joining Mumford’s team.”
You chuckled watching the crowd in a more simplistic way as if you were an artist searching for inspiration compared to a cop. This was something you had been passionate about since you were a little kid playing cops and robbers in the dark. When you finally made SWAT it was a major thing in your family, your father had tried out for SWAT and hadn’t made it. Your grandfather followed your grandmother’s wishes to not add more fuel to fear of losing him.
“Y/N?” Ethan’s shocked voice questioned from behind you. Behind him stood his twin brother crouching on the ground to tie his shoe.
You were about to answer when screams broke out around you following a gunshot that echoed around. Within seconds you tackled Ethan to the ground before the second one reverberated the area.
“Shooter on top of the building across the way.” Hondo called through the comms.
“Get down!” Tan shouted as people furiously ran in a similar direction frantically pushing each other.
“We really have to stop meeting like this.” Ethan groaned as you pushed off of him and back onto your feet.
“Talk later.” You called over your shoulder at Ethan before pulling your gun. You spoke into the comms, “In pursuit!”
Swiftly moving tree to tree until you were on top of the building with your team members scouring the rooftop. Instead of guns you found speakers pointed in the festival directions, camera pieces and two severely freaked out college kids.
“False alarm.” Hondo spoke pushing his gun back into his holster, “What were you guys thinking? Using realistic sound effects to freak people out?”
“We thought it would be cool to add this into our film.” The lanky male admitted as Chris and Luca patted them down for weapons, “We didn’t mean any harm?”
“What about the psychological trauma the festival goers are having?” Hondo spoke crossing his arms, “Deacon and I will wait for LAPD officers. Everyone go home, our shift is over.”
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