#jean would probably like. legally blonde | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rbbrbikerthorp · 1 year ago

Text

A New Neighbour Moves In

[Please note: all characters are 18 plus and any reference to boy or girl is purely descriptive or used in dialogue between the characters.]

Mitchell was living the life much like any typical 23 year old male would. He’d graduated university, he had started his career in recruitment for legal and financial services and was starting to earn good monthly commissions on top of his basic salary. He’d used all the money inherited from his grandparents to buy a 1-bedroom flat in a new development, just on the edge of the city centre. Mitchell didn’t have a steady girlfriend – he wasn’t in a long-term relationship place. As he told his mates at the gym, he was a ‘date them and ditch them’ once he’d managed to ‘get them in the sack’ kind of bloke.

It was a Monday morning and Mitchell needed to get to work. First, he had to navigate his way carefully out of the flat where he’d been invited to spend the night. The girl he’d met in the club the previous evening had taken a shine to his blue eyes, rugby toned body and wavy blonde hair. “Another notch on the bedpost,” Mitchell thought as he tiptoed his way out of the girl’s bedroom. Mitchell made it a policy to only meet women in person and he would never exchange contact details. It meant that none of his ‘conquests’ had any idea of how to find him and, as he was enjoying his ‘tom cat’ life so much, he sure didn’t want to be found. He went on his Uber app and requested a taxi. In less than two minutes one had pulled up in front of him. He took one last look up at the window to check the curtains were still closed and the car pulled away from the curb.

He arrived back at his flat in plenty of time to get ready for the day ahead. He shaved his weekend beard growth and then turned on the shower. Whilst the water warmed up, he took a moment to admire himself in the mirror. He loved how beefy his legs looked from the years of playing rugby first in secondary school and then in the university’s first team. His regular attendance at the gym meant he had a well-defined chest and arms. Women loved his bum as it stood out, firm and muscular. Yes, at that moment as he entered the shower cubicle Mitchell was very content with his life, but on this day, things were about to change.

As Mitchell locked his front door, he noticed piles of boxes outside the flat next door. As he turned towards the lifts, he ran into a large man. He barely stopped as he fell into him. Stepping backwards he said, “I’m really sorry, I didn’t see you there.” As the guy regained his balance, Mitchell noticed the man’s shaved head, jeans with bleach marks with tall black boots with white laces tucked into them. Even though he thought of himself as a tough, well-built guy, he stuttered feeling inadequate and intimidated by this stranger. “I…I…I’m Mitchell,” holding out his hand, “n... n… nice to meet you. So, you’re moving in next door? I… I… always wondered who my new neighbour would be? It’s been vacant for ages.

The man smiled, “I’m John and yes, it was quite a steal really. Apparently last owner had been shacked up with his fiancé for the last few months and they were about to get married. I made an offer a bit less than what they were asking for, but, because he needed to put money down as a deposit on a new house, he had no choice but to accept.”

“Well,” Mitchell replied being polite, “I… I… I’ve got to get my bus.”

“Yes, I can see you’re dressed for an office. As you can probably see I’m not a suit person myself.”

Mitchell laughed nervously. Why was he feeling so unsettled by this guy?

“Look, why don’t you drop by when you get home from work. I always like to get to know my new neighbours.”

On the spur of the moment, Mitchell couldn’t think of an excuse not to accept the invitation, so he said, “why not? Must go!” As he walked away, he could sense the man was staring at him. He shouted, “good luck unpacking” and then lowered his voice a little, “weirdo.”

John couldn’t help admiring his good-looking young neighbour’s physique, and he shook his head hearing Mitchell mumbling that last word. He began to create a mental picture of what Mitchell might look like wearing less formal clothing. Tattoos were common on young men of a similar age these days, so John wondered if he had acquired any ink yet. He was sure to find out later when Mitchell would drop in for a chat and John would explain was his lifestyle was all about. John set about unpacking so that he could prepare for his young neighbour’s visit.

It was around 7:30 in the evening when John heard a knock on the door. He opened it to find Mitchell had changed out of his work suit into a t-shirt and sports shorts. “Come in.” It felt more like an order to Mitchell than a pleasantry.

“You got everything unpacked I see.” Mitchell said trying not to stare at the many pairs of tall lace-up boots all lined up by the door; taking in the various bomber jackets hanging on the coat rack and the skinhead themed pictures and posters on the walls.

John noticed Mitchell’s “That’s nothing lad, I’ve got way more kit in the bedroom.”

Mitchell really didn’t want to know any more about what might be in John’s bedroom, “takes all kinds I guess,” he thought as John handed him a beer. The two men chatted, but as Mitchell sipped away at the beer, “wow”, he thought, “this stuff has a real kick.” He found himself becoming more relaxed and more willing give direct answers to John’s questions; about his job, his personal life, his family and friends. Mitchell was hoping that by dressing as though he was going to the gym and John would bring their chat to an end and let him go on his way. Mitchell was starting to fidget as you do when you’re about to stand up. However, John had different ideas, “stay right there lad, and I’ll get us another beer.” Mitchell suddenly found himself wanting to stay and slumped back into the sofa.

“So wh… wh… what do you for a living?” Mitchell asked with a slight stutter and slur as John handed him another glass of beer.

John smiled, “I’m glad you asked. To put it simply I change people.”

“Change people?” Mitchell asked thoroughly bemused.

“Yes, I change people. I take ordinary people, with very traditional upbringings and boring lives and I change them into whatever takes my fancy.” You, young Mitchell are just the sort of person I look for to mould into something more, hmm, you know ‘out-there’.”

Mitchell had downed half the glass of beer at this point.

John continued, “maybe I’ll slowly take them from the lives they are currently leading and over a few hours, a few days, maybe a few weeks transform them. They might end up as a…”

John could sense Mitchell’s fear about what might happen to him but continued, “The next person I change may end up as filthy mohawked punk, a dirty greaser biker, a Leatherman, a goth, a rubber slave. Who knows? It’s whatever takes my fancy at that moment. After a time, I get bored and need a new challenge, so I sell them on to people into the lifestyle and I move on to my next…”

Mitchell couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He opened his mouth to challenge what John was saying but he discovered it wouldn’t move. His heart was pounding, his anxiety levels were on the rise – no matter how hard he tried he was unable to form any words.

“Mitchell, I want you to calm down! Mitchell is such as pompous name, so from now on you’re gonna be called Mike. Now, I will carry on. John pulled out an amber charm which he swung from side to side, glowing eerily in front of Mike’ glazed eyes. When I combine this fine-looking stone with a special ingredient I have – oh you know I added a few drops into your beer, my victims become more… open to the changes I want to make to them. More compliant.” Mike’ eyes were affixed on the stone. “That’s right, just follow the stone, from side-to-side, follow the stone, transfixed by its glowing beauty/” John was comfortable in the knowledge that Mike would soon be his personal boy toy. “Isn’t that the most striking, bright and coloured stone you’ve ever seen Mike?”

He tried to open his mouth in one solitary second of defiance, but all he could managed was a barely audible squeak. His independence, his free will, his ability to fight and think freely had departed. There was no resistance left in Mike. His mind was now mush, the lad could only obey and conform.

John pulled Mike to his feet and dragged him to the bathroom. Once there, he placed him in a chair. “Right Mike, I’ve been thinking all-day about the life I want to give you. How do you fancy being my skinhead son? I’ve always wanted someone I could call a son, but being gay it was never going to happen, and I think you will make the perfect skinhead.” John didn’t wait for Mike to reply - he couldn’t; he did however see the confusion and distress in Mike’ eyes. He chuckled to himself.

John walked over to the bathroom cabinet and took out several items: some electric clippers, scissors, a pack of Mach 3 razors and a can of shaving cream. Turning his head to look at the boy, he smiled, “Only real men have hair. So, yours needs to go Mike. I’ll start on your legs and then your chest, all of that lovely blonde hair on your head and not forgetting the parts in-between. I’m going to enjoy getting rid of that wavy blonde hair. When I’m done, you’ll have a perfectly smooth bonehead.” John cut through the lad’s t-shirt revealing a well-defined torso. Staring at the blank canvas and thinking what he would do to it, he couldn’t help but squeeze one of Mike’ nipples. John detected the tiniest of yelps, so he squeezed the other nipple. There was no reaction this time, Mike’ mind was lost. He continued to stare into the amber jewel that was hanging in front of his face.

John turned on the clippers, starting with the boy’s left leg. Hair started falling in clumps on the floor. Once the left leg was done, he moved on to the right one. Soon John was wiping them down with a cloth, applying a astringent lotion so that the smooth skin shone in the bathroom lights and after a few more applications, regrowth would never be a problem. Then it was onto the chest. Although Mike was only in his early twenties, he’d already got quite a covering of fur, which John’s clippers made quick work of. Mike’s arms were also denuded of hair. John turned off the clippers and, with the same cloth, applied more of the special lotion to the recently clipped areas.

John stood up and smiled. He paused for a second, “this is the last time there will be any hair growing on your head.” He pressed the on switch, and after hearing the familiar ‘clack’ he began ploughing all the way through the boy’s golden locks. In no time at all Mike was motionless sitting in the chair with a zero-grade cut. John picked up the can of shaving cream, squirted it into his hands and rubbed it copiously all over Mike’ head. He took the necessary time to ensure all the fuzz was removed and Mike’ head felt like a cue-ball. In no time at all there was a shiny hairless skinhead son sitting in front of him.

Looking down, John smiled as Mike’ identity lay on the floor in clumps. He looked up at Mike who was sitting perfectly still, with the same glazed eyes and dazed expression on his face, oblivious to the changes being made without his consent. He took the cloth, poured some more lotion into it and rubbed it into his son’s head.

“Stand,” John ordered. Mike complied, happily obeying his skinhead master. The sports shorts were pulled down over the now smooth legs and John stood back as he grabbed the clippers. “Now boy, I need you to get nice ‘n’ hard so I can make sure I get all your hair… down there...” He watched as slowly but surely there was movement in Mike’ groin. John grinned as in no time at all full mast was achieved. “Very nice boy,” John said out loud, “I bet you were popular with the women. Is that six, possibly seven inches? Good and think as well. Unfortunately for you, you’re not going to have much use of it as my son, but it will look amazing with a thick gauge PA, and a Jacob’s ladder.”

‘Clack’, John turned on the clippers and began the removal of the last remaining hairs on Mike’ body. He had to hold himself back as he rubbed the special lotion into the skin around the groin and on the mounds that had once been covered in thick hair. When he was satisfied the boy was as smooth as the day he was born, John left the bathroom to get something from his bedroom. When he returned Mike hadn’t moved, he was still lost in the stone “Now here I have the perfect thing to complete you. Now stay perfectly still.”

Later, John walked into the main room of the flat dressed in full skinhead gear. As he gazed at his newly denuded skinhead son, he felt his manhood straining inside a pair of skin-tight bleachers, which were turned-up and touching the top of a pair of 30-hole red ranger style boots. He was looking lustfully at the 23-year-old standing to attention, still wearing the expression, he had when the amber jewel turned him into the compliant vessel he now was. “It’s time for the next stage in your transformation lad.” With that John walked over to a cupboard an opened the doors.

The cupboard contained piles of skinhead gear from boots to bleachers to braces to bomber jackets. First, he instructed Mike to put on a yellow jockstrap. “You’ll be wearing this non-stop for a few days – it needs to get in nice ‘n’ ripe.” Then he passed the boy a t-shirt, which Mike willingly slipped over his head. “These are your bleachers; they’ve got two zips – front and rear – you’ll soon find out why,” he grinned, “slip them on.” Mike pulled up the tight-fitting jeans that had been liberally splashed with bleach. Mike didn’t take any notice of the fact that they’d been cut off just below the knee and turned up so that they would show the full extent of the boots he would almost always be wearing when he wasn’t in his work gear. John walked across to Mike carrying a pair of red braces which he attached to the bleachers, pulling them right up his bum crack – so much so that Mike let out a little groan. To finish this stage of the transformation, John handed Mike the left boot. It was black with 20 eyelets and partly laced. John talked Mike through how to ladder lace the boot tightly and perfectly. John fitted a padlock at the very top of the boot before handing over the right one. When John was happy with the way that one was laced, he fitted another padlock. “Stand!” Mike stood up. “Turn to look in the mirror, see the Skinhead son I’ve created. This is what you are now a proud skinhead and my skinhead son.

“Now, we can begin your training. Kneel!” Mike complied. “I know your tongue will still be a bit tender, so I’ll be gentle. Open!” John commanded, and with that he slid his cock into Mike’ open mouth. “Move your tongue slowly, showing how much your love the bottom of your skinhead dad’s cock. Make sure you keep your lips tightly closed as I don’t want you to spill anything.”

He sat back as his cock was held between Mike’ virgin lips and soon found himself about to cum as the hard stud, he had introduced to the lad’s tongue work its magic. The combination of it all and the sensitivity soon had John unloading his massive load. “Swallow!” Mike swallowed quickly trying not to “spill’ as he had been instructed. John soon slid from the lips of his new son and quickly zipped up his own bleachers. “Yes,” John thought, studying the boy who, in addition to the tongue piercing also had a stud in each lobe and four more studs all the way up each of his ears. Mike would serve him well as his skinhead son, but first he needed to complete the lad’s transformation. “Right son, let’s go – I need you to see a friend of mine.”

With that John grabbed a green bomber jacket with orange lining and threw it to Mike, “put it on,” he instructed. Mike slipped on what he would get to know as an MA1 and followed John out of the flat. Right away he found it strange walking in heavy soled, tightly laced boots, but he didn’t complain – he couldn’t.

The skinhead and son waited a few minutes at the bus stop before one came along heading in the direction of the city centre. They alighted just before the main shopping area. It was an area that would be unfamiliar to Mitchell, but Mike was oblivious to everything now. He obeyed his skinhead dad, just as any good son would do. The two skinheads walked side by side into a small industrial estate. One of the units had a sign saying, ‘Anaconda Tattoo Studio and Piercing’. John walked ahead of Mike, as they got to the door, John walked in but for a second Mike hesitated. John knew this sometimes happened, especially with all the distractions of the outdoors. He pulled the amber stone out of his pocket and held it in front of Mike. “This way boy,” he ordered. Mike complied; his eyes once again completely transfixed on the glow of the jewel.

Once inside the tattoo studio, John turned to Mike, “stand here son. I need to talk to the owner.” Mike waited as instructed. Despite tattoos being made popular by the countless athletes and celebrities who adorned their bodies with intricate permanent markings, the old Mitchell would have never crossed the threshold foot into a tattoo studio. But here was Mike waiting to submit to whatever his skinhead dad was discussing with the owner.

John came out of the back office followed by a hulk of a man who was wearing tight leather trousers, a black vest, which exposed his muscular arms covered in tattoos, shaved head with long unkempt beard and on his feet were heavy biker boots. “Son this is Griff, he’s going to give you some more piercings and your tattoos. But first, you are to strip down to your jockstrap. When you’ve done that, go over there and sit in the chair. From now on you will do exactly what Griff tells you to do. He’s going to give you your first marks to show the world that you’re a proud skinhead. After you’ve got your first ink, he’s going to give you some more metal. I’m going to leave you for a bit, but I’ll be back to see the finished work.” Turning to Griff, John said, “he’s all yours.”

Griff walked over to Mike wearing only his jockstrap sitting obediently in the chair. Since John had already removed all the boy’s hair, Griff simply wiped clean the areas to be tattooed and then laid the first outline template on the skin. His machine was then started up, some ink was added, and the needle started to buzz.

He then began applying the needle over the site of the first tattoo, Mike felt a dull pain but didn’t flinch. Once the first tattoo on the boy’s left arm was completed, Griff went on to add the other tattoos as instructed by John. He started work on a full sleeve on Mike’s right arm, which would take four or five visits to complete. Then he added a bulldog to the rear of the lad’s right calf. Finally, two swallows were added to the back of the each of the lad’s hands. Griff whispered into Mike’s ear, “that’s all I’m doing now lad. John has booked half a dozen more sessions, so you’ll be coming back to get your neck, back and chest inked, and I can finish off the full sleeve. Now stay still. There’s a couple more things to do. Griff pushed away his tattoo cart and returned with another.

Griff looked at the docile boy in the chair. I think we will start with the nipples. Griff played, stroked and flicked them for a few moments until they were firm. He then slipped a needle through the left nipple, at which point Mike squealed. He then installed a barbell through the hole left by the needle and screwed a ball onto either end. He repeated the process for the right nipple. “No touching lad.” Griff then turned his attention to the lad’s groin and applied a topical cream to the so-called policeman’s helmet (bell-end to others). “Right, we’ll give that a little while to take effect and, in the meantime, we can sort out your nose piercing. This will hurt, but only for a second.” Griff then picked up a clean needle from his trolley and quickly passed it through the front part of the septum. Mike’s eyes began watering, so he knew the boy was feeling the pain from the intrusion of the needle. Carefully he inserted a ring into the boy’s septum, and then said out loud, “That will take six weeks or so to heal, then John wants it swapped for a bigger ring.” Now, the cream should have dulled your senses on your knob so let’s add the final bit of metal you’re getting today. He wiped the area to be pierced with an antiseptic skin cleanser, put a mark where the piercing was to be made, and begin the piercing process. The most painful moment for Mike in the piercing process was when the piercing needle punctured his urethra. One the needle was through, Griff inserted a circular barbell and spoke again, “don’t worry if you feel a bit of discomfort – a dull, throbbing pain that’s to be expected.

At that moment the door opened, and John walked in carrying a large shopping bag. “He’s all done, just as you instructed John. Don’t forget to leave the starter jewellery in for six weeks – no less, and make sure you use the aftercare solution. After that we can do a bit of stretching to your liking.”

As the days turned into weeks. John had started his son on the path to being a smoker. First, he gave him a gum to chew to introduce nicotine into the body, then he encouraged him to vape. When he felt there was an addiction starting, he told the boy to smoke cigarettes, starting him on five a day, and quickly moving onto ten, then fifteen. Within a couple of weeks, he was getting through a pack a day.

Mike also kept up his weekly visits to Griff, as more of his skin was covered with ink. Over the period, the full sleeve was completed, the Union flag was tattooed on the back of Mike’s next, the word skinhead was tattooed in script of his back and the letters that made up the word skinhead were inked on his knuckles and finally a Celtic cross was inked on the left pectoral. On the most recent visit Griff replaced the rings in his septum and PA with heavier gauges. As per John’s instructions, he also replaced the studs in his ears with rings and the ones in the lobes with spreaders. Mike joined his skinhead dad in a new gym, one that was run by an ex-boxer friend of John’s. John made sure to get Mike in the boxing ring so that his pretty boy face could get roughed up a bit. John wanted his son to look a bit freakier.

Mike didn’t look like the sort of person who would work in an office anymore, so he was signed up to work in the city council’s recycling centre – they were always in need of people to sort through other people’s waste. Five days a week he stood by a conveyor belt dressed in dirty Hi-Viz gear, and safety boots separating glass, metal, plastic, paper and cardboard into different bins.

After work, the boy would return to his skinhead dad’s flat, which was much bigger now that the wall had been knocked through joining what was Mitchell’s flat and John’s flat together. This night was special because as soon as he got home, Mike got out of his stinking workie gear he’d be in since just after dawn and into the skinhead gear his dad left out for him. Tonight, skinhead dad would be introducing his skinhead son to the lads in the pub. Mike dressed in his bleachers, a black Fred Perry, yellow socks and red 20-hole boots. Mike was ready in time for his dad to return home. John walked through the door and saw the perfect skinhead son standing there. “C’mon son. You’re gonna meet your skin bruders.”

#ranger boots #tattoos #bleachers #conversion #skinhead #workie

429 notes · View notes

joelswritingmistress · 10 months ago

Text

You Scare Me, Professor: Chapter 39

Summary: The reader is taking graduate classes at a local university in the wooded upstate New York. She is drawn to her professor, Dr. Joel Miller, though she is also inherently aware that he has something dark about him that she can't quite put her finger on. As the reader's attraction grows deeper, she has to decide whether to endure the danger or run away as fast as possible.

Pairing: Professor Joel Miller x f!reader

The lodge was buzzing. The big, open area was lined with rows of long tables, accompanied by high top tables on the ends. Down one end a group of guys was singing a cheery song that I had never heard before, but it made me smile. People of all ages, all clad in winter hats and hoodies, were slung about in small groups having a good time.

“Beers all around?” Carol asked, once the four of us were seated at a high top table by the bar.

After the elegant night at the winery, and bumping into Carol and Will before they went to the strings concert, I loved that Carol easily slipped into the more casual scene and could sling back beers on a whim. I was really looking forward to getting to know her better.

Dr. Miller rose to his feet and reached into the back pocket of his jeans for his wallet. When Will went to stand along with him, he motioned for him to sit. “Everything is on me tonight. What’re we drinking?”

“I saw a beer on tap as I passed by called Road to Ruin,” Carol explained, “I have to try that one.”

“Which means we may be on the road to ruin,” Will joked with a laugh. “A Miller Lite is fine for me.”

Dr. Miller looked at me with a smirk and a subtle wink. I smiled at him. “What kind of beer is the Road to Ruin?” I asked, glancing at Carol.

“It’s a double IPA.” She made a guilty face and looked to Will, who smirked and shook his head.

“I’ll try it,” I said to Dr. Miller.

“Two Roads and two Millers.” He motioned to himself and Carol. It took a second for it to click as he added, “I’ve got more Dad jokes up my sleeve.”

“That’s why I’m getting the Road to Ruin,” his sister joked.

When Dr. Miller went to retrieve our beers at the bar, Carol focused her attention on me. “My brother really seems to adore you.”

“Oh.” I smiled and raised my eyebrows, feeling my cheeks grow hot. I wished I had a drink to hide behind. “Yeah.. I.. I feel the same way.” I was so awkward and I couldn't hide it.

“Honey, don't embarrass the poor girl,” Will put a hand on her forearm with a chuckle.

“I'm just saying,” Carol went on. “You both seem very happy.”

“We are.” I gave a nod and a smile I couldn't contain. “I've never met someone like Joel.” When I sighed out loud, both of them gave a laugh and my cheeks reddened some more. “How was the concert last night on campus?”

“It was very nice.” Carol looked to Will and then back to me. “Elizabeth was one of those students you’ll always remember. She even came back to help out with building our school’s drama club set this year. They spent hours, probably too late most nights, working on all that.”

“Great kid,” Will added.

“What drama production are you guys putting on?” I asked.

“Legally Blonde,” they said at the same time, making Carol chuckle.

“I keep having to chase that little dog around the auditorium, nightly,” Will said with an eye roll and a smirk. “This one’s been eating her dinners alone a few times a week.”

“I’m a big girl, I can handle it.”

Dr. Miller returned, barely able to carry all four beers, which so happened to be in oversized, frosty mugs. “They asked if I wanted the sixteen ounce or twenty-two ounce beers.” He gave a shrug, “I didn’t think anyone would oppose the twenty-two.”

“Certainly not,” Will said with a nod, reaching for the one Dr. Miller slid in his direction.

“Should we toast?” I asked, gently raising my glass just a few inches off the table at first.

“To Carol and Will,” Dr. Miller raised his glass before anyone could intervene, “May you have the long, happy life together.” He added, glancing at Will, “And to gaining a brother.”

“Amen.” Will tapped his glass against Dr. Miller’s and then mine and eventually Carol’s.

“Amen.” She smiled wide and that same warmth and happiness radiated out of her when she looked at her husband-to-be. “Should we get drunk and fool around?” She asked him, prompting Dr. Miller to plug his ears as if he was twelve years old.

I laughed out loud and Will snickered and shook his head.

“And she’s not even drunk yet,” he said with a laugh.

“Maybe I should’ve gone with the sixteen ounce,” Dr. Miller said, shaking his head with a smile.

“Are you going to do any skiing before the wedding?” Carol asked us.

Dr. Miller extended an arm across the back of the chair and grinned. He glanced at me and then back to his sister. “Possibly some snow tubing.”

“Safer.” She sipped her beer, “Good choice.”

“And are you two going to risk breaking a leg on the slopes between now and Saturday?” He asked them.

“We’re going to skip the black diamond,” Will said, joking around. “But we may take a few runs down the slopes tomorrow.”

“Risky business.” Dr. Miller brought the beer to his lips.

“It’s in our genes,” Carol reminded him.

“I would have to agree,” I chimed in with a shrug, “I mean, you started dating me.”

Carol gave a laugh. “I wasn’t going to say anything.” She purposely looked away and then back right away.

“Already the women side with each other,” Will said, pretending to be exasperated as he shook his head.

“Happy wife, happy life,” Carol reminded him with a little wink.

“Yes, dear.”

The night was fun and lowkey. Dr. Miller went up to get several rounds of beers for the group, denying each person who tried to jump in and pay, myself included.

The same group of guys down the end that had been singing earlier got the entire room singing Sweet Caroline when it came over the speakers from someone’s jukebox request. It was one of those nights that got sillier and sillier and sillier.

I hadn’t been drunk in quite awhile, but I began to feel the effects of the alcohol and found myself singing along, swaying and holding Carol’s hand as we pumped our fists in the air to the, ‘Ba, ba, ba’ part of the song.

Honestly, I had never seen Dr. Miller so carefree since I’d known him. It was refreshing and rejuvenating to be a part of such a cheery, upbeat atmosphere. All the tenseness from the week had all but vanished. And it felt amazing.

When we finally cashed out and decided to call it a night, we exchanged hugs all around. I turned to Dr. Miller and gave a him a firm kiss on the lips when his sister and Will had rounded out of the lodge.

“You’re not ready to call it a night, yet, are you?” He asked.

I smirked at him. “What do you have in mind?”

Dr. Miller eyed an oversized clock on the wall. “We have about forty-five minutes-”

“Until what?” I interrupted, largely because of the buzzed feeling that left my filter flying out the window.

He laughed a boyish laugh. “Let’s get our coats.”

“And then what?”

“And then I’ll show you.” He held out a hand and led me back up to the room. We bundled up quickly, despite my several silly attempts to seduce him, and then I let him lead me out into the night.

“Thirty minute warning,” a worker with a bright, red jacket informed us as we made our way toward the thinning crowd on the slopes.

“Where’s the tubing hill?” Dr. Miller asked.

The man extended an arm, “Take that lift up right over there.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, no.” I smiled and laughed as he towed me toward the station to retrieve a pair of snow tubes. We then made our way toward the lift.

When we got there, Dr. Miller helped me onto the seat with a one, two, three and then we were being raised into the cold, mountain air.

“Wow.” I soaked it in. “I’ve never even been on a ski lift. How do we get off?”

“We kind of.. glide and run.”

“Great.” I laughed again. “You may have to catch me.”

“Always.” Dr. Miller continued to stare in my direction until I turned back to him so we could share a kiss.

“Thank you,” I said.

“For what?”

“For one of the funnest nights.. ever.” It was all I could come up with at the moment and we laughed together.

“It has been fun,” he agreed.

When we got close, he motioned up ahead. “Alright, we have to kind of just jump off and pepper your feet as you go so you don’t fall.’

“I’ll try.”

“Ready?”

“Nope!”

The bar raised and I giggled as he helped me off, stumbling as we went onto the snow. Neither of us fell, but it was hardly graceful.

“Wow, okay!” I reset. I was ready. “Now what?”

“Come on over.” Another man in a red jacket waved us on and we wandered down over toward him. “You can go side by side in these two lanes if you want.”

I could clearly see the man made snow lanes that had been made. They looked like giant, icy slides.

“Ready now?” Dr. Miller asked, taking the lead as he planted his tube and laid head first on top of it where the worker instructed him to do so.

I breathed out a wintery breath and laid down on my tube beside him. “What does the winner get?”

“What does the winner want?” Dr. Miller smirked at me.

“Beers or sex,” the young man butted in from behind us. When we both looked back at him he added, “That’s what people usually bet on up here.”

I let out a laugh and raised my eyebrows. “How about both?” I asked him.

“Sounds like a win-win,” Dr. Miller said.

“When you’re ready to go, just push yourself to the spray painted red line,” the worker explained, “ Once you’re past that, there’s no turning back.”

I walked myself up with my hands and feet, feeling like a turtle with an upside down shell. When I got to the faint line, I glanced over at Dr. Miller. “Should we count to three?”

“One..” He began, “Two..” There was a dramatic pause and I finally cracked a smile. “Three!”

CLICK HERE FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER

@untamedheart81 @suttonspuds @cesspitoflove @michilandcof @grogusmum @morallyinept @akah565 @brittmb115 @magpiepills @poodlebae @gobaaby-blog-blog @mermaidgirl30 @mandijo17 @shotgun-shelby @itscatrodriguez-thepearl @macaroni676 @acciowolfstar1 @smolbeanzzz @sarcasm-theotherwhitemeat @bandluvr97

110 notes · View notes

starsstuddedsky · 1 year ago

Text

What? Like It’s Hard? [teaser]

gn reader x soonyoung

summary: With the help of a little bit of bleach, Soonyoung is certified legally blonde–complete to last minute-dedication to scoring as high as Elle Woods on the LSAT. While he has no interest in law school, he’s notorious for never turning down a dare. So how does a frat bro in serious danger of failing his senior year get a 179? He asks the smartest person he knows.

Or, studying for a law test has never seen this much chemistry.

genre: fluff, angst, non-idol au, uni au, friends to lovers, opposites attract

warnings (full fic): swearing, drinking, food, arguing, refusal to acknowledge feelings, what's the word for beyond oblivious????

teaser wc: 1.7k

full wc: ~20k

a/n: hello my lovely readers!! i heavily debated posting this because there's always a chance that i just. never finish it, however i really love this story, so i don't think that will happen. that said, i have no idea when the full fic will be posted. (to my delight) my summer is extremely busy and i fear the fall semester will be as well, but i toil away slowly at this fic and one day it shall be posted <3 i hope you enjoy and are as excited as i am for the full story!

another teaser bc writing this is taking a while :)

want to join the taglist? just send an ask <3

“Nope.” You grab your backpack, shoving your laptop inside, but he gets to your water bottle before you can reach it.

“Come on.” Soonyoung pouts his lips.

“I won’t do it,” you say.

Soonyoung hugs your water bottle hostage against his chest, dark blue against the pale pink sweater he wears. It’s an unusual choice for him, normally clad in baggy jeans and loose t-shirts. Still, the color highlights his hair, blonde bordering on white. Knowing Soonyoung, it was probably a dare.

“Please! I’m desperate!” He cries again, stepping closer, though he keeps a firm grip on your water bottle. You never should have told him how emotionally attached you are to it; you should have known it would be held against you.

“No,” you say. You sling your backpack on, just in case he gets any other ideas. You’re starting to attract attention from the people in the library who are actually there to study (which included you, until Soonyoung arrived). So you grab him by the arm, rolling your eyes at how he jerks his water bottle out of reach.

“Walk and talk, we’re not doing this here,” you say, folding your arms over your chest.

“Come on, how hard can it be?” Soonyoung asks. “It’s just a test.”

“Just a test?” You snort. “Soonyoung, you are aware that most people that apply to law school don’t do it on a dare?”

“I don’t have to get into law school!” He says. “Just get a 179 on the LSAT.”

You shake your head, trying to plan how to get the water bottle from him. Maybe you should consider it a lost cause and just swing by the bookstore to get a new one instead. But that water bottle has butterfly stickers that survived freshman year and a dent from the time Jun tried to use it as a weapon in a fight against Jihoon (that was declared a draw when the bottle busted open and doused both of them equally); it holds memories better than water and you’ll be damned if you let Soonyoung hold it hostage.

“That’s actually harder,” you mumble. From the corner of your eye, you can see him tucking the blue bottle under his right arm, farthest from you. He won’t make this easy, especially since you saw the poorly disguised thirst trap of him and one of his frat brothers at the gym: those arms are not to be underestimated.

“I’ll pay you!”

“With what money?”

Soonyoung pauses. You’ve reached the exit by now, sunlight warming you through the glass doors. He turns to the sunlight, and you know he’s pretending to be a main character from an artsy film. He takes a deep breath, as if he already regrets what he has to say next.

“Okay, I’ll offer you the only services I have.” He turns his head to face you, eyes on the floor.

“Oh my god Soonyoung!” You shove his shoulder. “You are not selling your body for a test!”

“But it’s all I know!” He says. He pokes your arms. “You could have so much muscle if you lifted just twice a week.”

“Oh.” You blink at him. “You meant working out?”

“Wait what did you think I meant?”

You feel heat rush into your cheeks. You push the door open, praying Soonyoung doesn’t notice. “It doesn’t matter,” you say, not daring to check if he’s following. “I don’t have time to workout.”

“Then what do you want?” Soonyoung asks. He stays just out of reach, adjusting his grip so that the water bottle hangs from his hand. “Please, I’ll do anything!”

“Why do you need me?”

“Because you’re the smartest person I know.” He says without hesitation. In the three years of your friendship, you’ve learned that the only time Soonyoung isn’t serious is when he flirts.

“You are,” he insists. “Plus you’ve already taken it, so you’re my best chance. My only chance, it’s not like I have a good track record with tests.” He gives you a lopsided smile as he tries to pretend like he’s joking. But Soonyoung has always been easy to read. You can see the sparkle in his eyes dim, and you remember freshman Soonyoung, when he failed the midterm and holed up in his room in the frat house for two full days, not even venturing out to party. It’s that damn sparkle that gets to you. He isn’t paying attention anymore, water bottle hanging loosely from his hand, but you can’t bring yourself to snatch it.

“You can pass it,” you say with a sigh. “It’s about studying correctly.”

“I don’t know,” Soonyoung says. “I’ve never really studied.”

“Well, that’s what I’ll teach you.”

Soonyoung freezes, grabbing your arm. “Seriously?” When you turn to face him, his smile is so bright it warms you from the inside out, hotter than the actual sun on your skin. He throws his arms around you, wrapping you in a hug so tight he lifts you off the ground. Your heart does this strange thing where it hops into your throat. Your arms come up as a reflex but his embrace is too tight for you to even hug him back.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” He shouts. He doesn’t let go, even when he sets you back down. He loosens his arms just enough to look at you, the full force of his smile directed at you. “I swear you’re welcome at the frat house any time, I’ll buy you anything you want when I have money, I’ll drive you wherever you want if I can get Seungcheol’s car, I’ll do whatever, just thank you, thank you, thank you.”

You know you should answer, or say something, but thinking is too much when he’s so close you can smell the strangely sweet combination of laundry detergent, cologne, and sweat. You push out of his arms, snagging your water bottle on the way out.

“It’s whatever,” you mumble. Though his arms aren’t around you anymore, you feel strangely hot, like your blood is boiling, and your heart still pounds.

“It is not whatever,” Soonyoung declares. “I swear, whatever you want, I’ll do it.” He holds a hand over his heart and if it was anyone else you’d think they were joking but it’s Soonyoung, which means he’s deadly serious.

You can’t handle his gaze anymore, turning to study your beat up sneakers. “Really? You’ll get Jun to return my first edition copy of Pride and Prejudice?”

“I’ll get that book back.” He glances at you. “It is a book, right?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Though there’s been some good adaptations.”

“That’s the one with the zombies?”

“Zombies?” You frown. “Oh my god, do you mean Pride and Prejudice and Zombies?”

“That’s not the original book?”

“No,” you say, laughing. “The original is my Jane Austen, in the 1800s.”

“Oh,” Soonyoung says.

“I’ve actually never seen that one,” you say. “It’s the only adaptation I haven’t seen.”

“How many movies are there?”

“Well, there’s the 1940 adaptation, the BBC series that’s widely regarded as the most faithful adaptation, the 2005 Kiera Knightley movie that stands iconic, plus the Lizzie Bennet Diaries, which is a vlog-style Youtube adaptation. Then of course there’s Jane Austen’s other works, like Persuasion, which, the new one, for the record, was a terrible adaptation.” You stop when you realize you’re dangerously close to going on what Jihoon calls ‘an Austen tirade.’

“I liked the movie,” he says after a pause. “I don’t know if it was that good, or close to the books. But it was fun.”

“I’ll have to watch it, then,” you say. “I know it’s the obvious choice, but Pride and Prejudice really is my favorite Jane Austen novel. Good luck getting it back from Jun though. He’s studying abroad this semester.”

“He’s the friend from your history class?”

“No, that’s Jihoon, my roommate,” you say. “Jun was in my language class.”

“I thought you hated everyone in that class.”

“Oh believe me, I do,” you say. “But Jun is friends with Jihoon, so he sort of just became my friend too.”

Soonyoung hums, saying nothing else. You don’t recognize the song, though you tend to mostly listen to classical music when you study or whatever Jihoon blasts from his room, so it’s not that surprising. The melody is nice, though. Well, Soonyoung’s voice is.

“I really am grateful,” Soonyoung says. “I know I was begging, because I don’t think I can do this without you–well, I don’t know if I can do it with you, but you’re my only hope and–I’m rambling again.” He flashes a smile. “The point is, thank you.”

You shrug, feeling shy under his gaze. “It’ll help me study anyways,” you say. “You learn a lot when you teach.”

“I thought you already took it?”

“I only got a 150,” you say, sighing. “I need at least a 165.”

Soonyoung nods, forehead creasing like it always does when he’s lost in thought. “Thank you anyway.”

“Well, you swore to do whatever I tell you,” you say, desperate to change the subject. “Don’t think I won’t abuse that.”

“Oh, YN,” he says slyly. “I’m counting on it.” He even winks.

You cough, choking at the outright flirting. Soonyoung hasn’t tried a line on you in so long you thought he’d used them all. He isn’t serious, it was engraved in his DNA the second he became a fully fledged member of Sigma Beta Tau but it’s not like many people flirt with you, so it’s hard to stop your heart from jumping.

You check your phone, unable to look him in the eyes. It’s 2:18 now, prime naptime if you can get back to your apartment before Jihoon gets back. But if it’s past two, unless he lied to you at the start of the semester, that means Soonyoung should be in his data ethics class. “Hey, don’t you have class right now?”

“Shit.” Soonyoung takes off. He sprints across the grass, dodging three picnics and narrowly avoiding getting rocked in the back of the head by a frisbee. He pauses at the edge, turning back around to wave wildly at you.

“Thank you!” He shouts. The picnickers glance between you and him and you can feel the blush returning. Soonyoung doesn’t notice all the eyes on him, waving like a goofball one final time before sprinting off again.

#seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt #svt reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fluff #kwon soonyoung #hoshi #svt hoshi #soonyoung x reader #hoshi x reader #hoshi fluff #soonyoung fluff #hoshi angst #soonyoung angst #soonyoung #svt x reader

173 notes · View notes

kahlanmars · 1 year ago

Text

PAPER RINGS part. 9

Helloooo! THANK YOU for all the likes!!! BTW here and on AO3 they suggested Ana de Armas for Daisy and I honestly love her.

MASTERLIST

9. Deep waters

The bad feeling doesn’t lose you for the trip. You walk and you take a bus, you get lost two times but finally you find Lavinia’s apartment. You hope she won’t think you are crazy, but Lora is nineteen. Technically an adult, but Katniss is just a year younger and she needs a legal tutor. And the way she talked to you at the party is not… is not Lora. Lora is kind, gentle, and she is always an optimist. If she changed so much in such a brief time it is all your fault, you and Perla should have listened to her more.

You ring the bell, but nobody answers you. So you ring again, you are not exactly a patient person. You are well aware you look crazy, flying around in your red shirt and black jeans, an outfit so not you, but you had other problems this morning and you thought you were going just to Perla’s home.

Instead you are running around the streets of Capitol City. Fine streets of Capitol City, too fine to not feel a little overwhelmed.

«Lavinia? Do you remember me? I’m Daisy. I was looking for Lora.» You yell. Holly would be horrified by your manners - one day she scolded you because you said “Thank you” badly, it wasn’t that you didn’t say “Thank you”, you said it badly, that how your mother is, and probably Effie too, but you need to know where she is.

It’s effective nonetheless, because she hears you now. Or she heard you before but now she doesn’t want you to embarrass her.

Effective either way.

«She is not here.»

She finally opens the door. Lavinia is always beautiful, but she looks ready to go out even if it’s just four p.m.. She wears a beautiful long blue gown that looks like a butterfly. It has diamonds on the corset and long lighter blue sleeves. It’s exquisite, and you are quite jealous you don’t have one like this, but she looks… vintage, maybe. Definitely before the revolution. It gives you the ick, like nothing you lived ever happened. Then again you see how Effie looks at her older dresses, how much she wants to try them on, and there is nothing bad about it.

She doesn’t let you in. Like she has a big secret or something.

«Didn’t she move in?» You ask her. Your makeup must be smudged now and maybe you look a little scary. Good. You suddenly remember she must have seen you on television last year. She saw you surviving a shark, the caves, she saw you saving Lora from the sagittaria and she definitely saw you killing Clark.

«Well, no. We thought about it, but then in the morning she stormed out.»

She sounds like she has no idea what happened, but the girl you know doesn’t behave like that and Lavinia is a mediocre actress. But the point still stands, a nineteen year old girl is missing.

«Stormed out? Oh, please, let me in. I’m worried.» She has to feel the urge in your voice, doesn’t she? She is Capitol but she has a heart too, the way she moves, like she is not interested at all in Lora, makes your blood boil.

«I’m sorry, I’m busy.»

She is busy. Busy.

You force the door. You are heavier than her and definitely more pissed. The look on her face tells you she is scared of you, but now you don’t care anymore that her blonde hair is shiny or her face is perfect or her legs are endless, you don’t care she is more than you, her apartment is big and rich. You look around a little, her apartment is huge, bigger than Effie’s and still full of trinkets. It doesn’t look very lived, though. It looks like a magazine that wants to sell you a house, not a home. The couch is cream, the walls are white, everything is clean and spotless, but it’s not natural for a home to be so immaculate. You don’t even remember the last time your house, old or new, has been so stainless. Probably never.

She still has a housekeeper. She is still rich.

«She is your friend too, you don’t want to know where she is?!» You are raising your voice, but right now you are very proud of yourself because you are not jumping her throat.

«Listen, we are not friends, we go out sometimes, that’s not a friendship.»

You clearly remember the two of them going out together for months. And now that piece of garbage tells you she is not her friend, probably because she is district, or not wealthy enough for her.

«Where is she?!» You are growing angrier and angrier every minute you spend with Lavinia. Breath, Daisy, breath.

You don’t breathe really well because the next thing you do is take her arm in a very strong grip.

«I don’t know where your friend is! Let me go!» Her voice is squeaky. I could break her arm, she is so slim she can’t be strong, I can outstrong her easily. But I don’t need to do this, I can’t let my rage win. I never killed because I wanted to, I always did it to protect someone and this wouldn’t protect Lora.

You let her go. She looks scared but she stays in her place.

«What are these?» On the sofa there are pictures. Pictures of you and Finnick. You are crying and he is consoling you, everything is innocent but you have to admit that from some angolations it looks like you two are kissing. Studied angolations, and there are a lot of those. Pictures with you and Effie, with you and Perla, Perla and Finnick, Finnick and Effie. It’s like someone, her, was trying to catch something. The victors in the Capitol with sparkly dresses in a famous club. Like you are wasting your victory and you are becoming what you fought for so long.

«What?» You ask. It’s not like you trusted her, but this is traumatising anyway.

«If you don’t leave my house I’ll call the police.» She is more dignified now, but you don’t really need the police. You are charged for a murder, you are a rebel, and people don’t like you anymore after the pass-pro.

«Did you take these?» You ask her, in a really angry tone. You can’t believe she saw you crying and the first thing she thought was “Oh, I’m going to make a lot of money with her tears!”. Little bastard.

«Daisy, please.» Her voice is so calm, you don’t think she understands the urgency of the situation.

«Did you take these pictures of me and Finnick?» You yell, and you throw her over a wall. She is so thin it’s not even difficult, even if you were ready to play tough. Finally her eyes are terrified.

You would like some recognition for being a Hunger Games survival.

«Where is Lora?» You repeat, getting annoyed and tired of it.

«S-she found the photos and she started screaming…»

«Of course she started screaming! You took these pictures, it is all your fault.» You let her go. You are not a monster, you don’t want her scared all the time, you just want to find your friend.

«Come on darling, you were a tribute and you were entwined with Finnick Odair. You know how it works.»

She is so cocky now that she is far away from you, but when you take a step close to her she shuts up. Good. She is hitting your nerves.

«You are a model. Did you have to?» You can’t imagine she doesn’t have money. She is out clubbing every night.

She has the audacity to light a cigarette. You want to make her eat this damn cigarette.

«Someone was going to get these photos. I just took the chance. Don’t cheat on your boyfriend and this won’t happen.»

«I wasn’t chea- it’s not important now, okay? I just need to know what happened with Lora. She is young, and she doesn’t know the city as well as you. If she is alone, maybe she got lost.»

«She is an adult! She stayed alive during the games.» She doesn’t dare talk about the games like it’s a casual thing someone could run into. You were there because her people put you there. Lora was robbed of her life because of them. Now you understand the hatred Haymitch has towards Capitol citizens, they will never understand.

«If you know where she is… Think, please.» Although for her it must be hard.

«I mentioned something to her earlier.» She knew something, you were sure of it!

«What? What did you mention?»

«Oh, if she went there she would be very immature.»

«She is nineteen! She has every right to be immature!» You put a finger on your temple, trying not to strangle her. «Lavinia, I’m this close to hitting you and I’m really sensing that the only person who is trying not to hurt you it’s me, the person who is going to do it so please, just tell me and then shut up!»

«Capitol moved your arena into the city. They don’t know what to do with it, they tried to use it but they can’t, and they just put it there. I told Lora…»

The arena. You feel a shiver on your back. You don’t want to go to the arena, you don’t want to put a hand on it again. The most horrible experience of your life has been there. You would prefer to return to district Thirteen, but not the arena.

«Fuck, fuck, fuck.»

«She stormed out! She felt responsible or something. She said that she was my friend and I took the pictures, so…»

«And you let her go.» You accuse her. Of course she felt responsible, she probably got into a fight with Perla too, she said those words towards me and she probably thought Lavinia was her only friend left, and then she felt betrayed. That’s a mess, a raging mess.

«It was the dawn, I was wasted, she was wasted, it’s a miracle I remember it.»

You easily take the cigarette out of her hand - thanks to the exercises with Haymitch in the gym - and you watch her closely.

«You hope I’ll find her soon.»

You are frightened. Lora is alone and this is your fault too. Perla was busy with her job and with Cinna, and you too, but you knew she was fragile and she deserved more attention. She was alone, without her family, and Capitol City can be tricky. In no time you go from being happy for a new adventure to remain home because you are ashamed of who you are. You feel guilty because you don’t have the right clothes, less money than them, the right body type and because you are district. The revolution happened but they still think they are better than you, and Lora is District Eleven like you are District Twelve, the poorest districts. You have Effie that reminds you of your worth, but she is alone.

It wasn’t hard to find the arena. It’s abandoned in a suburb area, you just had to take a bus to get here. It’s quite famous, if you don’t live in a bubble sewing and consoling your friends. You are positive Haymitch and Finnick knew that, but they tried to shield you.

You are not ready to come back to the arena. Even if you can see it’s all staged, it’s abandoned and there are no cameras, you don’t want to go there. You want Haymitch, you want Effie, you even want your mother who is in District Twelve and she definitely can’t come rescue you now. You start to shiver. You can’t. There is any public phone or shop nearby, so you can’t even warn anyone.

But Lora is in there, a voice tells you. Lora is scared and alone and maybe even in danger, because the place is wonky and unstable. And there are caves.

Dear heavens, you hope she is not hiding in the caves.

You trespass because there is no real security.

It all seems… fake. The caves are not real, and with light you see the exit. You hope there are no more poisonous plants, but you dare walking fast and you scream your friend’s name.

You finally find her and she is a mess. She has been crying, her mascara is on her cheek. And she is near the Cornucopia, water between her and you.

Oh God, oh God.

They couldn’t leave a shark in still water, right? Sharks die this way. They removed the shark. They definitely removed the shark.

Unless… How do you remove a shark? After a revolution, with no funds and no money, and you don’t imagine Capitol City being big on animal facilities. They used mutts for years without questioning any ethical issue. You suddenly remember the first hours in the arena, it hits you like a bus.

You run as much as you can to the caves, often falling, and suddenly from the ice emerges a giant black shark.

A shark.

You are going to be killed by a shark. There is no way you can run away from a huge shark, with a big mouth and big teeth.

You calm yourself down.

«Lora?»

She lifts her eyes up. She is in a dress, and she is soaked wet, she is going to catch a cold. And the Cornucopia is full of weapons, if they didn’t take them, they are rusting now and they are dangerous.

«Lora, now please… remain calm. I’ll be here.» You really, really, really don’t want to go into the water.

«Don’t come any closer!» She yells. She is shivering, you can see it and you feel so guilty and worried it’s choking you. You failed her, you failed Lora and now you feel helpless and powerless, you don’t know what to do. You damn yourself because you didn’t wait for Perla, she always knows exactly what to do. But you remember the time she almost died because of the sagittaria.

Lora still has the plants in her hands, and you take them from her to toss it on the ground.

«Are you okay? Did you eat something?» You ask her frantically, watching her and touching her face in suspect of something weird on her body.

She looks shocked, maybe she was friends with the other tribute, but she shakes her head. «No, I was about to but… no.»

You almost faint in relief. «Dear Heavens, girl. You scared me to death.»

«That should be easy.»

No, now it’s not time to joke around. What was she doing here? You hope she didn’t want to do something terrible. You hope it was just a crisis and she wanted to be alone. You hope, but that is not enough.

«I didn’t want to do it, Daisy. It broke.»

It broke. They must have taken the cornucopia closer, and she walked there but then the little platform started moving to the centre, and she got trapped. Just like her situation in Capitol City.

«That’s a relief but now you have to take my hand.» Maybe she can come to you, because you don’t really think you are able to swim. You have never swam again after the shark.

«I can’t.» She is stuck, paralysed, she can’t walk. You get it.

The only opportunity you have is the bracelet that’s never out of your hand. Maybe Haymitch does not have the beeping thing anymore and he doesn’t know where you are, but there is the possibility that he kept it, your paranoid boyfriend. You adore that he is paranoid, it comes handy. You press the little daisy charm and you hope for the best, because that is the only chance.

«No, no you can.» You try to convince her but she shakes her head vigorously.

«I just wanted somewhere calm.» She explains.

«And you had to pick a place with water?!» No, you have to calm yourself down, you can’t scream at her. You have to pretend you are in a class with kids. You were a teacher for a brief piece of time, you should be able to do it. At least, to do it.

If you fall you are over, everything is over. But no, you have to fall, you have to swim to save her. You can freak out later.

«Everything is falling apart.» She whispers, but you catch it.

«No, Lora, don’t say that.»

«But it’s true! I don’t have a job, I don’t have a house, I don’t have someone who loves me!» That is not true. She managed to win even Effie over. She is adorable, everybody likes her. The only reason Chaff doesn’t want her in his house is because he has a severe problem with alcohol and he doesn’t want to be a danger for her.

«You have plenty of people who love you! You have me, you have Perla.»

«Chaff can’t take care of me. My mother and father are gone, and so are my brothers. I’m alone, Daisy, and I thought maybe Capitol could distract me but I feel so alone…»

She is alone. As you are, as Perla is, as everybody is in this city, but she is a little more alone because her parents died in the war and she is a kid who never had a chance to say goodbye.

«We can stay together, you can stay at my place!»

«You don’t really want me!»

You have no idea how to, but this can work. Haymitch likes Lora, you will go back to Twelve after the campaign and you think she will be fine in Twelve.

«Yes I want you! And you are scaring me.»

«I should be able to take care of myself but nothing is right. Nothing is right, nothing I do is right…»

«You survived! That is a pretty big thing and you are so young, you are barely twenty! Lora, you need to slow down. Give yourself time to understand what you want. You don’t have a job yet, and so what? You are a kid. Slow down, you are doing fine.» She is marvellous, that is the truth.

«Am I?» She watches you for the first time.

«Yes. You survived, you are a survivor. And I love you. Perla loves you. Chaff loves you, baby we all love you.» Believe me, believe me, please believe me.

«But the pictures in the magazines are my fault.»

«Nothing happened! Haymitch and Annie didn’t believe any of it, nothing is ruined. Stay there, I’m coming.»

Every step you take in the water, much lower than in the games, you think the shark is going to catch you. It will bite you. It will murder. It’s over, it’s over, it’s over, that’s it, that is how you are going to die, all you can think about is their giant teeth.

And then you take her hand and you take Lora in your arms to lift her up, suddenly you are back in the land.

«Okay, it’s okay, we can stay here for a while. Just a while, until my legs begin to work again.» You murmur to her ears, and you lull her. «Everything is going to be okay.»

You two are both in shock, and when Haymitch walks towards you he finds you rocking with Lora, silent, in that damn arena.

Your fiancé is perfect. He deals with Lora, he takes her to bed and he leaves you alone for a while, to let you decompress.

When Haymitch finds you, hours later, you are shivering in the bathtub. Your hand is white and you feel like ice, the water is very cold. All you can think about is that you hate water. You could have fallen, maybe a shark was there. You can’t help but fix your thoughts on the giant teeth, the bite it could give.

«Sweetheart, what are you doing?» He takes your hand, and he gives you a look when he finds out it’s glacial. He kisses it. You hate to worry him, especially after a discussion. He has been great, he took care of Lora like she was Katniss and he let you deal with your emotions.

«Where is Lora?» You ask, lifting your head up to see him. He watches you with worry in his green eyes.

«She is sleeping, I made her hot tea and everything, don’t worry about the little one. I’ll check on her in a hour or two, but now she is exhausted. You, on the other hand.» He gets up to take a towel, «Are freezing. You are going to catch a cold, what are you doing in the bathtub?»

«Doctor Aurelius said to do this when I’m scared of water…»

It's not working the way it should be, you can still hear the water in the caves, you still have a foot in the Arena. The last Arena.

It's funny, you didn't think about it almost at all in District Thirteen. The war was on and you had to fight, to protect the ones you loved and to survive.

After the war ended the nightmares began again, and most of them were, and still are, about water.

«Yeah, maybe with hot water. I’m lifting you up, okay? Is that okay?» He wants to be sure because one time you had a crisis. You were spiralling and he touched you, you didn't realise it was him, you were so scared.

«Okay.» You whisper, and you close your eyes against his chest. He wraps you in a towel and keeps you in his arms, going straight to the bedroom. You are soaking his shirt, but he doesn’t seem to notice or he simply doesn’t care.

«Let’s put you to bed, Princess.» He tucks you under the sheets and he comes with you. You are immediately glued to his side, and you cry silent tears while he is petting you and playing with your hair.

«Thank you so much. I’m sorry.»

«You are sorry you just saved a life? Daisy, come on.» He is not big on cuddling, not without some heat, but he is just being flawless.

«But you have to take care of everyone.»

«Not everyone, just you. And I like that.» He lifts your chin up. «I like taking care of my wife.»

«I was just so scared of losing her.»

«You won’t.» He tights his embrace. «You won’t lose her.» Like I lost Maysilee. That’s the silent end. The girl he allied with, the original owner of the mockingjay pin, the little kid who died during the games, attacked by pink birds. Haymitch, at sixteen, stayed with her holding her hand until she died and then he won.

«I like taking care of you too.» You swear. You are not the only one who is bad sometimes, he still has an addiction, even if he doesn't touch alcohol anymore. He trembles and he occasionally throws up because he can't take it anymore. He is grumpy for days or he doesn't go out of his room.

His ways are just different than yours.

You two stay silent for a while, but you can’t sleep. Everytime you close your eyes you only see horrible scenes, the shark who tries to kill you or Lora, Lora scared and alone, Perla during one of the crises, Effie who cries on the couch, Haymitch who tries and fails to stay sober.

Everyone you love is full of problems. The Games screwed up your people.

«Do you believe in a God?» You whisper in his ear, because you know he is not sleeping either.

«Sweetheart…»

District Twelve does not ask questions about it. People there are just too busy to notice, or they wouldn’t like the answer. They knew something in the old days, you barely remember your grandmother singing an old, old song about a religion, a goddess or someone like that. “Salve Regina mater misericordiae, vita, dulcedo et spes nostra salve.” She sang it with her heart, but she memorised the words, not the meaning. Your mother tried to sing it to you but you were too little and she had other things in her mind.

But you keep thinking about Lora and the way she could have died in that damn arena. Having her in another life is a consoling thought.

«I nearly lost Lora today.» You put your head on his shoulders, crying. He pats and kisses your hair. «If there is a God, maybe I could see my parents in the afterlife. Maybe we are not so alone.»

He sighs. «You wouldn't like my opinions. But I do hope there is an afterlife, I hope my parents and brother are okay, I hope they are happy. And I hope we will be together even there.»

«So, you don't believe a God exists.»

«I don't know, but if there is someone they have to explain a lot of things. If God exists he has let innocent children get slaughtered for years, women dying in childbirth, not to mention the war… he is either not powerful enough or just plain evil.» He kisses your hair, «I don’t know if there is an afterlife or not, if it’s related to a God or even if there is a God, but I don’t trust it. I believe in you. I believe in my children. We have each other.»

You snuggle your nose against his cheek. «I believe in you too.»

«My beautiful, beautiful woman.» He bites your lips. «I don’t know if God exists, but I must have done something good in my life to have you.»

33 notes · View notes

sometimesalien · 4 months ago

Text

how barbie helped me embrace my femininity

The cinema is one of my favourite places to go. Somewhere where I can sit for a couple of hours and just relax, let my mind be taken away and come out the other side having absorbed what story I discovered and how it changes my viewpoint on life.

This has happened whilst sat in a packed cinema with no spare seats for No Way Home, sat by myself in the empty IMAX screen for Civil War but the most impactful? Barbie.

Picture the scene, it’s the beginning of 2023 and the trailer for Barbie just dropped. I very quickly fell in love with the pink and the plasticity and how it made me feel. I had been a tomboy, hated the colour pink and refused to wear dresses. Everyone thought I would have preferred to watch Oppenheimer, as the vibes were more with what I matched. But it didn’t appeal to me.

Very quickly the day came around, I had work. I ran out of there as soon as I could and drove over to the cinema. I went with a friend, we met up just before and went in. We left that cinema changed people.

What did Barbie mean to me? At that time of my life I was having a personal crisis with my identity, and the ability to have something like Barbie, which is all about finding yourself in a world where there’s rigid roles and places that everyone had to stick to, really meant something to me.

The idea that you could change and learn and grow. How it’s okay to not fall in line, and standing out is perfectly fine.

When I sat in the cinema watching Barbie I finally felt at peace. Up to that point turmoil in my life was common, I had moved around the country and I was home for the first time in months. When I was there, there were mothers there with their daughters. Parents with their children, grandparents. The atmosphere was electric. Sure it was funny, the humour didn’t always hit but it was incredible.

How did Barbie help me embrace my femininity? Well.

Being a tomboy and being actively against any sort of feminine identity and lifestyle made me repress the feelings that I would enjoy femininity. I hated wearing dresses (still do now) and you would not get me in a skirt. I was (and still am) more comfortable in jeans and trousers but I’m not afraid to bring a skirt out.

Seeing the diversity of actors playing different Barbies with different careers and different styles and different everything made me so inspired and I was in awe. Only a couple of weeks prior I had seen Legally Blonde for the first time, and for a law student, that felt incredible knowing people would take me seriously.

Barbie had the same effect. I felt like people could respect me now as a feminine presenting person, and that I didn’t have to hide behind suits and trousers. I rock a suit, but all my little quirks are deemed acceptable. Fun little earrings and enough rings to make my fingers jangle when I wave my hands. Seeing the Supreme Court scene where all the Barbies reinstate the constitution made me so excited and so happy.

My femininity has been a struggle. One that I am still fighting now, one that I will probably always struggle with. I often dress androgynous if I can, but I’m not scared to change it up a bit.

Seeing people so excited to see this movie and then seeing it myself was so fun. Laughing and crying and feeling a rollercoaster of emotions whilst learning about myself was an experience I will probably never recreate. However, it’s made me appreciate myself more, proud that my body has gotten me this far.

#barbie #media analysis #margot robbie #barbie movie #essay #personal essay #in this essay i will #cinema #film analysis #i love this movie #sometimesalien films

6 notes · View notes

xi1dius · 3 months ago

Text

Heather

prologue

(three weeks ago)

It had been a long night of finally legal drinking. It had been Ares’ 18th birthday, in England that means so many more things became legal. He was no longer a teenager yet the ``amazing`` idea of having a drinking party with everyone in his specialist figure skating school had sprung to his mind. Around midnight, Ares’ boyfriend, Astor, had been taken home by his best friend and had left almost everything but his phone, Except he just wasn't answering it..

Ares picked up Astors coat and skating kit items and left. His house was a mess and he would only have tomorrow to clean before his parents arrived home from their week long Ibiza clubbing trip.

As Ares was walking down the street he noticed Astors bedroom light on. Good, that meant he was safe. He walked towards Astor's front door and knocked a good few times. Receiving no answer, Ares backed to look at Astor's window. The light was on and he could hear something happening due to the open window but just what?..

Ares took a few steps back and noticed two figures, one was Astor, the other was Daria…

Something was going on up there but Ares couldn't quite see what so he called out,

``Astor? Daria?``

He walked back onto the pavement and kept looking through the window, no answer.. It took a few seconds for his eyes to focus but he saw them.. Kissing?.. What, no Astor would never cheat on Ares.. Would he?..

It became obvious, Ares could see it plain as day.. He was being cheated on. Ares staggered back, close to falling onto the road as his eyes widened and welled up with tears. They came down like waterfalls as he dropped Astors items and bolted away - like his life depended on it.

one

It was the first day back to college, A-Levels were soon and it meant that Ares only had a year left to deal with his cheating boyfriend and his ex-best friend. Both Daria and Astor had messaged, called and knocked on Ares' door multiple times but he'd only ignored them. What do they expect?!

Ares pushed his way through the bustling and excitable crowds of friends reuniting and headed towards the ice rink. He knew well the rink would be empty this early in the morning and he needed to get away from everyone.. everything.. so there was no harm in going for a skate.

He walked through the hardy and robust steel doors and allowed the chill of the area to envelope him. As Ares suspected, no one was there. He took it upon himself to walk into the changing rooms and put his belongings in his ‘rink lock’ - as they called it - and put on his skating shoes. Ares was feeling the nip of the area and didn't plan to do a full blown routine so he decided to stay in his jeans, shirt and jacket.

He was swiftly over to the entrance of the rink, whereupon he opened the flimsy entrance door and glided out onto the ice. The feeling was normally euphoric as Ares spun and gilded around. It always felt miles better alone than with others but not this time... His blonde, fluffy and uncontrolled hair normally spun round with him, all the jumps, the tricks, everything.. but this time it stayed its little uncontrolled mess firmly on his head, like something wasn't exactly right, but what?.. At this point Ares didn't even have the energy to skate properly so he just slowly brought himself round the rink. By now his cheeks and nose were a desaturated red and his hands were struggling to move at the pace he wanted them to.

Suddenly there was a loud bang at the door, someone had opened it?.. It was probably Daria or Astor coming to pester him again so Ares just kept his head down and continued to aimlessly skate over the ice. Although, when he turned to look at the newcomer it just looked like a rather angry teenager - also known as Flynn, a mammoth of a boy who didn't take kindly to anyone, people loved him though; Ares really never understood why.

``Can i join you?`` A deep and obviously pissed off voice came out. Ares nodded, Flynn was rather intimidating anyway. He was tall, very tall, a good 6’2 compared to Ares’ 5’8 structure. He had a long, brown, gelled crew cut that looked expertly styled merely days if not hours before. He, was in pretty thin clothing, like he had not intended to skate that day. Ares looked up towards Flynn, something was off about him.. He didn't seem as riled up like he wanted to hit something or happy after hitting something, those were the only two expressions he'd ever seen on Flynn but he still had something off…

Flynn chuckled as he looked down to Ares, something was clearly wrong.. But they had just met, could he even ask? Flynn just took himself round the rink a few times before coming back to Ares who had barely made it halfway round. Flynn gave up with his barriers and allowed a worried expression to mask his previously stone-cold face. Ares noticed this quickly, his aura just felt.. Different.. How could someone create a whole barrier of an aura that wasn't really them?.. How could someone just switch it off with the change of a facial expression?

``Are you alright, mate?`` Flynn spoke up with an edge of a worried tone, it couldn't be heard by someone so crappy at emotional cues like Ares but if you were to really focus..

``yep.`` Ares bit his lip and nodded nervously as his spine trembled due to the cold.

Flynn wasn't accepting with other people telling him no but something was different with Ares, it was like he just had to listen, maybe this was why so many people liked him so much.. Did Flynn like him?

two

Ares had left the ice rink by now, nevertheless his face was still red and he still shivered. Flynn had kind of made his leave due to him nearly passing out so he was currently sliding around the halls in the attempt to find his lesson without running into Astor or Darius. His plan failed massively. He noticed the library, it beckoned him over and Ares mustered his body to move in a sprint towards it, he didn't want to go to lessons anymore.. but something stood in his way.. Astor.

The second Ares layed eyes on Astor, his breath became erratic, unpredictable and shallow. He halted to a stop in front of Astor before he was grabbed and dragged into a nearby locker room. It was deserted and lonely other than Astor and Ares.

Before Ares could react or reply, he was pinned to the floor by Astor. He looked really pissed, so mad but not at Ares.. The hell is going on? It felt like hours he was pinned to the floor but in reality it was mere seconds. His body didn't want to move so it stayed glued to the floor, Astor was just glaring down at him with stone cold and intimidating eyes.

``I didn't do anything wrong, why are you ignoring me?!`` Astor suddenly burst out, a hint of annoyance shrouding his voice.

``what-`` Ares was so.. Confused.. He very clearly did do something. He cheated on him for god's sake! ``You CHEATED on me!`` Ares confirmed, his voice rattly.

``No I didn't! You've ignored me ever since your party, how did I do anything wrong?!``

``I saw, after my party! You and Daria.`` Ares' words came out like a pained hiss, nothing could make his emotional barrier crack more than reminding himself of them.

``What?.. No no no, I was with you after the party.. Remember, you left to take me home.. Right?!`` Astor backed up so he was hovering on his knees, still over Ares.

``No, you were with Daria.``

``no no no no no no no no..`` Astor started hyperventilating, his hands back on Ares’ shoulder, effectively pinning him to the floor. Tears ran down his cheeks like little kids, running around for sweets, as he pleaded.

``I was with you! I know I was with you! I would never do that!`` Astor pleaded. He knew he was with Ares, there was nothing else… he wouldn't do that with anyone, let alone Daria. What Ares was saying had to be fake right?.. It had to be.

``No, I stayed, Daria took you home and you were making out with him. I saw when I took your things to your place. Who else would have just left it on the side of the road?!``

It took a few seconds for Astor to even think.. He honestly couldn't believe what he had done..

``Im sorry.. I'm so so sorry!`` Astor cried, he leaned over, gently pressing their lips together.. nothing but love in his touch. Ares pulled away and reached out and nodded, putting a hand on Astors cheek and rubbing it.

``Its ok-``

Suddenly, the door flung open.. A group of Astors friends had been looking for him and they'd been directed into the locker room. One problem.. Ares and Astor was a secret, it had to stay a secret or who knows what would happen, they were about to find out..

so i based his off a “Heather” Animatic i watxhed a while back, not sure when is rite his in all honesty.

#mlm #m4m #lgbtq #original character #heathers

2 notes · View notes

the-ravenclaw-werewolf · 1 year ago

Note

What about if you did Live-Action movies? Though probably best not to do any very long or interconnected ones (like the MCU for example).

One of my choices would be Inspector Clouseau (played by Peter Sellers) from the Pink Panther films.

Here we go! (And you have no idea how happy it made me when you picked Sellers!Inspector Clouseau.)

I also don't know if you wanted regular movies or movie musical, both of which I can do. But it's just funny to me how half the cast would watch the musicals and be like, "How you guys breaking out into song and dance like that?! What, did you plan this?"

And the musical cast is like, "No?! I don't even remember doing that!"

(For those not in the know, musical numbers just help to progress the story and or be an entertainment piece for the audience, meaning they are non-diegetic, meaning that have no direct effect on the story world, like the soundtrack you hear during a movie.)

The Pink Panther (Inspector Clouseau) Ocean 11 (1960) (Danny Ocean) The Last Days (a 2013 Spanish science fiction thriller film which was amazing and I HIGHLY recommend it) (Marc) The A-Team (2010) (Murdock) Forrest Gump (Forrest Gump) Home Alone (Kevin McCallister) Jaws (Brody) Jurassic Park (Alan Grant) Back to the Future (Marty McFly or Doc Brown) V for Vendetta (V) It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad World (Captain Culpeper) Holes (Stanley Yelnats or Zero) Night at the Museum (Larry Daley) The Princess Bride (Westly or Buttercup) Legally Blonde (Elle Woods) Little Woman (1949) (Jo) Men in Black (Agent K or Agent J) The Matrix (Neo) Jumanji (But only the 1995 one) (Alan Parrish) Zathura: A Space Adventure (Astronaut) Sound of Music (Maria) West Side Story (1961) (Tony or Maria) My Fair Lady (Eliza Doolittle or Henry Higgins) The Music Man (1962) (Harold Hill or Marian Paroo) Mary Poppins (Bert) The Rocky Horror Picture Show (Frank-N-Furter) The Wizard of Oz (Dorthy) Labyrinth (Sarah or Jareth) How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying (J. Pierrepont Finch) Singin' in the Rain (1952) (Don Lockwood or Kathy Selden or Cosmo Brown) Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (Charlie Bucket or Willy Wonka) Guys and Dolls (Sky Masterson or Nathan Detroit) Little Shop of Horrors (1986) (Seymour Krelborn) Annie (1982) (Annie) Tick, Tick… Boom! (Jonathan Larson) Grease (Danny Zuko or Sandy Olsson) Les Misérables (Jean Valjean or Cosette) Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (Sweeney Todd) Phantom of the Opera (2004) (Christine Daaé) Meet Me in St. Louis (Esther Smith)

#main character syndrome (with exceptions)#the 40 #the_ravenclaw_werewolf #ask & answer #hulkchloron99 #movie 40

20 notes · View notes

l0verr-girll · 5 months ago

Note

1. what song makes you feel better? My Girl by The Temptations, no idea why specifically it just makes me feel a bit better when I'm down

2. what's your feel-good movie? I think Legally Blonde, the one from 2001, I dunno it's just a good movie I've always loved it

11. what's your ideal date? For some reason I've always lovedddd the idea of a picnic, seems so peaceful if the weather is nice :3

23. favorite piece of clothing? It's probably lame BUT this south park shirt I thrifted and cut the neck out of or these kinda boot-cut ripped jeans I have, they're one of the only lighter color jeans I have and they fit so good

27. which character would you like to be? This is a pretty vague question, like if I was given a show/movie I could pick one but damn that's vague so I have no idea

3 notes · View notes

quiveringdeer · 2 years ago

Text

ok but in a universe that didn't suck, Gabi would literally be like Sasha's mini me and shadow!

you shan't convince me otherwise!!

it kills me that they literally look so much alike too!! we ain't gonna talk sad shit on this post but gods connie and jean watching gabi grow up in canonverse and her looking so much like their sasha!!! 😭😭

ok but for real, they'd be like two peas in a pod. Gabi is just as rambunctious and matches Sasha's infinite energy! They're always getting into shenanigans and pulling pranks on the others! Jean. Connie. Reiner. Porco. Eren. Bertie. Even Annie and Mikasa at one point! No one is safe from these two's hijinks!

Imagining them having their version of "girls day". Getting up really early to go hunting and exploring. They help Sasha's mom with dinner and then afterwards, Sasha's siblings join them for snacks and movies on the living room floor. Kaya picks out the amazing feminist classic, Legally Blonde, starring Reece Witherspoon. Gabi's never seen it before and is a little 😕 --cause at this age she probably is in the I don't like pink and doing all those "girly" things stage-- but Sasha says she loooooves this movie and has seen it so many times that her and Kaya are quoting parts and so Gabi is paying attention cause if her "big sister" (I'm crying 😭😭😭😭) likes it than it's gotta be good?

By the halfway point Gabi is INVESTED! When Elle ends up sticking to her promise of keeping Brooke Taylor's alibi secret, Gabi is all like, "Elle what're'you doing!?!?! You're gonna lose the case! Just tell them!"

Kaya is about to say something but Sasha puts a finger to her own mouth and shakes her head for her to just let things happen.

Gabi is rolling her eyes like all the other characters with the way Elle is fumbling through her cross examination and grumbling how she was starting to like her but this was such a dumb move. BUT THEN!

Then comes the iconic moment! Elle zeros in the inconsistancy in Chutney's story and goes in for the kill. So to speak. Gabi's eyes are huge as she watches it all unfold. And when Chutney ends up blurting out her confession Gabi literally throws both her arms up in surprise and elation!

They spend some time talking about the movie after and because they're all still wired off snacks and Elle's badassery, Sasha proposes another movie and they end up introducing Gabi to Mean Girls. 😌

#i just need her to have positive role models ok!!!#and the way Sasha would take her under her wing!!!!#and Gabi would gravitate to her too!! cause she's such a badass #uuuuugh #nat talks aot #sasha braus #sasha headcanons #aot headcanons #gabi braun #gabi headcanons #kaya braus

20 notes · View notes

newmiriamsmysteries · 22 days ago

Text

"Heartbeat"

((Revisiting an old prompt list))

[November Writing Prompt - Day 1]

“Heartbeat”

It’s hard to explain the effect a Vampire’s bite would have on a person.

For some, it’s the best high you’ve ever been on. A drug in every sense of the word. It can propel you into the stratosphere like any hallucinogenic can. For others, more often than not, it can cause agonizing, debilitating pain. Or it can be much like a snake’s venom to paralyze their prey.

So there I sat, in an interrogation room next to Nathan Walton. Across from us was a young woman, early to mid-twenties probably. She was a very pretty girl with gorgeous green eyes that were glazed over and dreamy. Her blond hair was curled in loose waves over her slim shoulders. She was dressed for a night on the town, most definitely, from her skimpy crop-top down to her six-inch-heels. A tight black mini-skirt left little to the imagination, she seemed like a very conservative type though. I could tell by the black leggings she wore beneath the skirt and the red leather jacket that draped over the back of the chair.

It was November 1st, the day after Halloween. Inwardly, I felt a part of me die. Next to Christmas, Halloween was one of my top favorite holidays. The haunted attractions, the old horror movies that never seem to get tiresome and of course, the parties. The girl before us had gone to a Party the night before. She no doubt met her attacker there.

“Tell us again, Miss Winters,” Nate started, looking down at the yellow legal pad before him. He lightly tapped the eraser of his sharpened number two pencil on the table. “Where did you go last night?”

I sat back in my chair, slouching a bit with my arms crossed beneath my bust. My own leather jacket draped behind me. I wore Max’s wrinkly Marilyn Manson t-shirt that I slept in. My skinny jeans were pulled on over sleep shorts and ended in black and white Converse sneakers.

“I already told you,” She replied, her voice slurring as if she’d had too much to drink.

“We just want to make sure we got all the information down correctly.” Nate said, looking up at her over the rim of his glasses. Always the diplomat, Nate, which is probably why he’s the best homicide detective in the city. “Please answer the question.”

“Can you close the blinds? The sun is giving me a headache.” Miss Winters whined. She put her hand on the side of her neck where a gauze bandage had been placed. “This is so itchy…”

I got up from the table then and crossed over to the blinds, closing them. “Does anyone have a cigarette? I need a cigarette.” She continued.

“Miss Winters,” I said, walking back over the table. I put my hands down on the tabletop, leaning forward to look straight at her. “Can I be honest with you? I am exhausted. We’ve been here all night. You’d be in the drunk tank right now if not for that bite on your neck. Now you know and I know that fake fangs don’t leave hickeys like that. You need to tell us what’s going on. Now.”

“Why are you mean?” She looked back at Nate. “Why is she mean?” She was definitely intoxicated and it wasn’t alcohol or drugs.

Nate took his glasses off and put his thumb and forefinger on either side of the bridge of his nose. “Miss Winters…” He said.

“Alright, alright!” She replied, leaning back in her chair and putting her hands up palm out. “I went to a dive bar on the South Side of town. There’s a dance club there in the basement. It’s one of those ones that you knock on the door and the guy slides the panel aside to see who you are. Real quiet like one of those old speakeasy bars.”

“A speakeasy?” Nate asked, lifting his brows. “It’s 2024, speakeasies went out of style after Prohibition.”

“No, not entirely.” I offered. He looked at me. “There’s one that I know of. It’s called ‘Heartbeat’.”

“Yes! That’s it! That’s the one!” She giggled. “There were a lot of good looking guys there. The long-haired broody type. Goth guys are kind of my weakness.”

“And you know about this how?” Nate asked me. He always was protective of me. Even more than my own brother sometimes. Always making sure my fine sensibilities remain intact in this wide, scary world.

“I’m not the one being interrogated here, can we focus?” I asked, gesturing to the girl before us.

“Are you two married? You act like you’re married.” She observed.

“Anyway…” Nate interrupted. “Who did you meet at ‘Heartbeat’? Think of anyone you can.”

“Well, I went there with Nicole. She said it would be a good time. I met a few nice looking guys. Daniel and Alexander were two of them. They said they were friends, but I didn’t think so. Well, not just friends anyway. More than friends.”

“Go on.” I said as I heard Nate scribbling on his notebook.

“Well, me and Nicole found out they were actually together. Lovers, you know? Which, hey, I’m not here to judge anyone. Love is love and all that. In fact, my brother is starting to date this guy named Ted, he’s really cool and – what was I talking about?”

“Daniel and Alexander.” I said.

“Oh yeah! Right.” She shifted in her seat a little, pawing slightly again at the bandage on her neck. “We danced with them all night. I must have been really gone cause I didn’t even notice that Nicole left. Why does my neck hurt?”

“You didn’t see her leave?” Nate pressed, getting her back on track.

She leaned forward again, elbows on the table. She placed her chin in her palm and looked off to the side. “Daniel, Alexander and me were getting ready to leave the club and I looked for her, but the bartender - this really good-looking guy named ‘Hallowed’ - very edgy - said that she’d gone. I was kind’a ticked off that she ditched me, but I also had two hot goth guys with me so I wasn’t too mad at the time.”

She lay her head in her arms on the table, the high must have been starting to wear off. I looked up at the two-way mirror and gestured for coffee. We were going to need it. “Then what?” Nate asked.

“So, the guys took me back to their place, which I guess wasn’t far. I was drunk so I didn't care. We went up to their apartment and one thing led to another.” She said as the door opened. A police officer brought in a carafe and three cups. I poured some coffee for Miss Winters and myself.

“With both of them?” Nate asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh c’mon Nate. You never dreamed of having hot vampire sex with two female vampires before?” I teased. Nate shot me a warning glare and straightened his collar. I shot the police officer a kind smile as he left with a smirk of his own.

“Yeah, with both of them. Then one bit me… I don’t remember which one it was.” Miss Winters picked up her cup of coffee and took a sip. She made a bitter face and shook her head.

“I just thought it was one of their kinks, you know? But then I blacked out. Next thing I know, I’m being picked up off of the ground in front of ‘Heartbeat’ and I had no clue how I got there.” Her voice trailed off as she stared at the top of the table.

“Hey,” I said quietly, placing my hand on top of hers. She looked up at me. “You’re going to be fine, alright? I promise. My sister is a counselor, if you need her, I can give you her card, okay?”

Nate watched the exchange then finished writing her statement almost to the letter. Good ol’ fashioned police work in action. The door opened once more and a plain clothes officer walked in.

“Detective Walton, Miss Winters’ boyfriend is here to pick her up. Are we booking her?” He asked, offering me a nod. I waved back.

“No. We don’t have anything.” Walton replied, closing the leather cover of his notebook.

“Tyler’s here?” Her eyes went wide in panic. “You’re not going to tell him what happened are you? You wouldn’t dare!”

“It’s your business, Miss Winters, we just want to find out who or what attacked you.” I said. “But you probably shouldn’t keep it from him for too long. And stay away from ‘Heartbeat’ for a while, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.” She nodded. She got up and stumbled a bit. The officer helped her put her jacket on over her bare shoulders and escorted her out, leaving me and Nate the room.

“Will she turn into… you know…” He asked, putting two fingers against his neck as if they were fangs.

“I doubt it.” I shrugged, sitting on the top of the table. “I don’t think they would have let her go if they planned to change her. Vampires are picky, they keep the ones they like. Miss Winters may have just been in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Doesn’t vampire creation violate The Accord?” Nate asked as he sat back in his chair. Putting his hands on his head, interlocking his fingers.

“I don’t believe so. As long as it’s consensual, that’s a bit of a gray area though.” I replied, referring to the treaty between Vampires and Humans that was drafted thirty years prior.

“I’ll put a loose watch on her though, just in case.” Nate replied. “Wouldn’t want to risk any Accord violations. That’s all I’d need for a good old suspension.”

“You’d never get suspended, Nate.” I said, hopping down off of the table. “You’re too good at what you do.” I stepped over to my chair and picked up my jacket. Slipping it on over my shoulders, I pulled my brunette hair from beneath the collar, letting it fall half-way down my back.

“Where are you going?” He asked me.

“Home.” I replied, taking my keys out of my pocket. “I have a date with the inside of my eyelids. I don’t think our vampire pals will be too active anyway. I’ll check them out tonight though.”

“I really wish you wouldn’t.” He warned, taking a drink of his coffee.

“I love you, too.” I teased. “Send Rachel and the kids my love. If I find out anything, I’ll call.” I started to leave.

“Miriam,” He began, I turned and looked at him as I held the doorknob in my hand. “Don’t go visit Archer without me.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that vampires know how to use cell phones then, huh?” I joked. “I’ll be fine. I can call Archer while I make dinner for me and Max.”

“His apartment building getting fumigated again?”

“My couch is his couch.” I shrugged. “Good night, Nate.” I pulled the door open and stepped out, leaving the Detective and the Police station behind.

#stories #blurbs #miriam my girl #rough draft challenge

0 notes

fortressofserenity · 24 days ago

Text

Finding Adam

By Ada Mina, with characters by PD James

18-year-old Mick Dalgliesh inherited the dark good looks of his parents, though he never had much interest in his parents’ literary pursuits. He likes Goth bands like Sisters of Mercy and listens to their songs on his playlist, but he wondered if he did this because neither of his parents saw each other anymore. The last time he saw his father was when he was 16, the time he became a legal adult. Perhaps Adam Dalgliesh lost interest in his wife, Emma, and he’d often write poems about dying. Mick thought he was probably suicidal, since he expressed a desire to kill himself whenever he wasn’t feeling good.

Adam rarely feels good ever since he lost his first wife and child, no woman would ever satisfy him, not even Emma. In fact, whenever he gets upset she’d administer medicine to him and oftentimes he takes it, but at other times he found it utterly unnecessary that he’d go away from her for long periods of time. So he often visited the pub, with a notebook and a pen in his hand. He often feels guilty for not being a good husband to Emma and not a good enough father for Mick that he’d drink everyday to numb it, he’d even frequently submit those morbid poems to magazines and websites. Mick felt alarmed because it’s like he wants to kill himself.

He tried to stop his father from drinking and writing those, but he never stopped so he got hospitalised many times over. Emma didn’t like being alone and would often seek the company of other men to keep herself calm, but oftentimes sleeping around with them and sometimes having flings with bodybuilders and footballers. Mick didn’t like that whenever she brought along a new man to their house, that he’d often leave her for his friends, Danielle Mercer and Abe Haskins. He’d hang out at their houses to play Sisters of Mercy songs on their computers and smartphones when he has the time to, since Emma would take him back him even when he didn’t feel like it.

Once again, Emma brought home a new man and his name is Brian Murphy. She met him before while feeding foxes together, so they’d visit each other whenever they went out to feed those animals. Murphy is a few years older than Mick, he has high cheekbones, light brown hair and preternaturally blue eyes. Emma found him to be very attractive and would kiss him often whenever he came here, but Mick doesn’t like that and went to his bedroom to avoid seeing her with another man. In his room, he plays ‘More’. Though alone and bereft of his friends, at least he wouldn’t see his mum flirting with another man for long.

Then he starts emailing his friends to come over to his house, so that he wouldn’t feel so lonely for long. He waits for hours, hoping they’ll arrive and come to his rescue. Then these two finally arrived at the doorstep, Danielle with her dyed and teased blue-black hair, black tights, combat boots and little black dress met Emma. She closely inspects her unusual appearance, those curiously blonde eyebrows and roots of hers and her thick eyeliner. Emma believed her to be suspicious though she’s oblivious of the fact that she herself often made out with any man she finds in Adam’s absence.

Abe Haskins looks more normal, with his blond hair tied in a ponytail, black Sisters of Mercy shirt, bifocal glasses and blue jeans. Then he starts talking.

‘Madam, where’s Mick?’

Then Danielle followed.

‘He told us to come over here, so where is he?’

‘He’s in his bedroom. Who are you both?’

‘My name is Danielle Mercer, nice to meet you. What’s yours?’

‘Emma Lavenham-Dalgliesh. Why do you dress like that?’

‘It’s my style, don’t get too worked over it.’

‘I’m Abe Haskins, studying psychology in uni.’

Then Mick arrives and takes the two in his room, but Emma wasted no time introducing both of them to her new boyfriend.

‘Danielle, Abe, this is Brian.’

‘Hi Dani, hi Abe.’

Then Mick retorted.

‘Mum, this is embarrassing!’

He shooed her away, along with her boyfriend to be alone with his. Mick has been embarrassed by his mother’s promiscuity, wondering why she never bothered bringing back Adam since he told her to. But then again Adam would make himself disappear for long periods of time, making it hard to find him so Mick had to put up with Emma’s new boyfriend every time. That Adam got hospitalised for his depression and alcoholism made him grow fonder of him in some way, despite being equally appalled by his suicidal tendencies. With Danielle and Abe, he found comfort and solace. They’ll never betray him, they’ll never abandon him even if they themselves mess up.

Danielle with her commitment to her biology studies, Abe’s commitment to psychology and that Mick works as a DJ in his spare time. Mick also never really liked how Emma would come home smelling of fox urine, telling her to stop feeding foxes even though it’s taking a toll on her hygiene. He did his best to keep her company, often talking to her about his favourite books (his were often about Goth bands and rock music in general) and reading his father’s poems out loud. But he knew that his father lost interest in her, not that he disliked her but he grew more aloof from her the worse his depression got. Adam never legally separated from Emma, but over time they led separate lives.

Emma with her foxes and boyfriends, tending to Mick’s feelings from time to time. But he also felt that she practically forgot about Adam now, since she doesn’t see him much anymore. Looking very distressed, both Danielle and Abe played ‘Dominion’ another one of his favourite Sisters of Mercy songs. Abe starts patting him on the back while Danielle wiped his tears, doing their best to comfort him. Mick wondered why he was born to a man who lost interest to the woman who’s his mother, why his mother would be obliged to either feed foxes or sleep with men whenever she felt lonely and distressed. His friends’ parents aren’t like that.

Danielle’s parents Steve and Janet deeply love each other, they always have each other’s backs when tragedy strikes. Both of them are deeply supportive of her career in biology, of the three she’s best equipped to put up with Emma’s other habit of feeding foxes when she’s not sleeping around. Abe’s parents are also supportive of his career in psychology, where Abe aspires to work in that field. He’s best equipped to understand Adam’s state of mind and tendency to disappear whenever he doesn’t feel good, perhaps they are the only ones who understand what Mick’s going through.

‘Danielle, my mum keeps feeding foxes. She’s been doing this whenever my dad leaves her.’

‘You should go tell her that she should be careful with those, lest they get too familiar with people for their own good.’

‘I can’t stand the smell these buggers give off.’

‘That’s got to do with the glands in their bodies.’

‘Good point, now that I realised.’

Then Mick turns to Abe.

‘Abe, my dad keeps writing poems about wanting to kill himself. He’d do anything to leave, trying to do that.’

‘Mick, that’s a red flag. Has he been medicated or hospitalised?’

‘Many times over, by the former by my mum.’

‘I better find him, can you accompany me to the hospital he’s in? It’s somewhere here.’

The three went outside to find him, with Mick telling them where he has been. Minutes turn to hours when they finally arrive there, looking for him whenever they can. Then they go on asking where Adam Dalgliesh is, they say that he’s somewhere upstairs. Looking for the room where he could be, they went left and right for it. Eventually Mick spotted his father taking medicine from a nurse, his bandaged arms a sign of self-harm.

‘Hi, Dad. It’s me Mick, haven’t seen you in a long while.’

‘Mick, I feel like s---.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m not good enough, everything I do is wrong.’

‘Sometimes I feel I’m not good enough either, that I should’ve stopped her from cheating sooner than later.’

‘I don’t like it whenever she forces me to take medicine. Actually I don’t like being medicated much, it’s demoralising.’

‘Good evening, Adam, it’s me Danielle. Mick’s worried about you and he wants to see you.’

‘Adam, I’m Abe. Can I help you?’

Adam withdrew from them, locking up the room when he told them to. He goes on writing poems again, away from their sight and alone with the nurse. Mick felt disappointed because he wanted to see him again, but he pushes away people. Nothing can make him happy, even those who love him the most. They all go to Danielle’s house, Mick feels safer but still yearns for his father. Isolated, even with people by his side.

#p.d. james #pd james #adam dalgliesh #short story #fiction #literature #dalgliesh #gothgoth #sisters of mercy #goth music #the sisters of mercy

0 notes