#this one was brought on by the realisation that they both get the shoot animals option AND can die from others inaction.

[midnightdemonhunter]

sometimes, doing nothing is the worst thing to do.

[chronicowboy]

i love you (and i like you) aka the parks and rec au | 65k

"Dad!" Christopher shouts suddenly, moving past Buck with frankly impressive speed. "There's a petting zoo!"

Buck spins around to greet Shannon's mysterious ex and he has to rub his eyes to make sure what he's seeing isn't a hallucination brought on by the sleep deprivation and blaring summer heat because Eddie Diaz is hefting Christopher up onto his hip like he weighs nothing, big cow eyes softer than Buck has ever seen them as he listens to his son—his son!!—ramble about the farm animals with a smile that almost brings Buck to his knees.

"Fuck," he hisses to himself.

"Yeah." Shannon sighs solemnly in solidarity. "They tend to have that effect on people."

"Christ, did you know this whole time?" he asks suddenly. Shannon grins at him.

"I had my suspicions after Eddie disappeared on us at Macarthur park and came back looking like a broken man." She shrugs. "But I didn't know you were the guy my ex-husband has been talking about constantly for the past week."

"Constantly?" Buck croaks. Shannon nods, a twinkle to her eyes. "All good things I hope, but all bad things I assume."

"All good things said with the tone of a man talking about the bad things," she says cryptically.

"Oh, God," Buck blanches. "I told him he hated kids."

"Oh, yeah." Shannon laughs. "That was a fun day for me. For Eddie, not so much."

And Buck hasn't taken his eyes off Eddie since this revelation which is how he knows Eddie hasn't once looked away from his kid, but it also means he's looking when Eddie looks back at him with something wary to the set of his jaw. Shannon steps forward then and starts ushering Chris towards the petting zoo with a pointed glance at the both of them, and Buck is widening his eyes apologetically before they're even out of earshot.

"Eddie, I am so fucking sorry," he rushes out. "I was angry when I said that, but I had no right to accuse you of it, kid or no kid or best kid in the whole world. Which. I don't have to tell you how many kids I meet in this job, Eddie, but I've never met a kid like Chris."

"Yeah, he's pretty special," Eddie murmurs, eyes on Christopher as he navigates his way through the crowd. "And I appreciate your apology," Eddie says to him, "but your fourth outburst was actually kind of helpful?" He squints at himself before shaking his head. "What I mean is that I do everything for that kid. Absolutely everything I do... It's all for him, you know?" And, God, the pure, unfiltered love in Eddie's voice is enough to make Buck reconsider religion because this must be what real worship looks like. "But sometimes I get so in my head about what I'm doing for him that I forget that its, you know, for him. You reminded me of that," Eddie says softly, only turning to meet his eyes once Chris is balanced against the railing of the goat enclosure. Buck gets a little breathless at the remnants of his gentle love on his face. "So, thank you. For reminding me." Eddie smiles at him for a beat before it twists into an expression of realisation. "Wait, you're the park creep that befriended my son and flirted with my ex?"

"Well, that's not..." Buck rubs a sheepish hand over the back of his neck and kicks at the ground. "Shannon flirted with me first, it was instinct to flirt back. And she's the one that called me a creep, Christopher thinks I'm cool."

"Yeah, he does," Eddie breathes out. "Shannon told me what you did for him. With the swing."

"Oh, I didn't do anything." Buck waves him off. "He looked interested is all."

"Well, you made his week. Couldn't stop talking about wanting to be a park ranger. Still won't stop talking about it actually." Eddie shoots him one of those soft-eyed looks.

"There'll be an internship waiting for him when he's sixteen," Buck mutters hoarsely before stuffing his hands in his pockets and averting his eyes. "You know, if there's still a parks department for me to be a part of."

"Well then, guess I'll have to see what I can do." Eddie winks at him, then blinks at himself like he's wondering what the fuck he just did—and Buck is right there with him—before gravitating towards his son.

tags and a bonus under the cut!

@danielsousa @gracelcdomas @angstydiaz @jamietarts @butchdiaz @shitouttabuck @haradrimculture @pinky-promisesss @starlingbite @dontneedmyheart @spaceprincessem @prince-buck-diaz @shortsighted-owl @buck2eddie @diazly

[bowieandqueen11]

Can’t Lose Family / Joel Miller Imagine

Request: Joel request- him helping Reader get her medications and she repays him with a kiss even though they aren't together?

This turned into a much cuter found family fic than I meant it too lmao but also sorry not sorry  @miraclesabound!!

Warning: strong language, fighting infected, mentions of guns and knives, mentions of what happens with Sam and Henry, mentions of blood, and mentions of Sarah!

This one’s pushing 4,000 words lads which has to be my longest one shot - I spent all day writing this, so if you enjoyed please support me by commenting and reblogging!

(I do not own the Last of Us or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @manny-jacinto.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

If you found one more goddamn empty first aid kit, you were going to tear a clicker’s head clean off its stupid mushroom neck.

It hadn’t been an easy journey even getting to this point. Despite Ellie’s numerous protests, snide looks, and even grabs at your jacket with a ‘questioning your sanity’ kind of look, you and Joel had both agreed that a supermall was the best next place to look for the specific kind of medication you needed. 

‘It’s the only place left in this state we haven’t already scoured’, he had muttered from in front of you, pulling up Callus’ reigns and bringing the horse to a sudden halt. The building seemed to loom up from the corner of your eyes like a shooting spore; beams of light seemed to light up its cracks, spraying dust upwards through the shattered windows and clawed bricks until they flew out and danced across the sky. It whistled with every blow of wind, grumbled and heaved with the weight of its walls, howled with the furious screeches of the horde of infected that vacated the forgotten premises.

From where she was sandwiched between the two of you, Ellie managed to squeeze her head out past Joel’s shoulder and scoff. Your grip on her shoulders tightened as she tried to turn her head back to throw you an averse scowl. ‘If you guys go in there and make it back in one piece’, her words are jolted by her nose face planting into the back of Joel’s jacket, Callus rearing up his front legs and whinnying at the piercing cry of what sounded to be a recently turned runner convulsing about in horrendous pain. You straightened her back up on the saddle, and she let you wrap your arms around the top of her stomach to keep her balanced. ‘I swear, I’ll eat my backpack.’

Joel just looked past his shoulder to give her a bemused look.

‘Still would be better than having to hear another one of them lines from your joke book.’ Ellie slapped him on the shoulder, but she couldn’t hide the fact that she was looking down at the sprouting shoots breaking through the strewn concrete on the road to hide her growing smile. ‘Shut up old man. You can never escape Will Livingstone.’ 

You tapped Ellie’s shoulder, and when she turned to see the mischievous glint in your eye, she nodded with a grin. ‘Hey Joel’, you started, waiting for his grunt reply. ‘Do you know the last place I went before the outbreak was too a zoo?’

‘Is that so’, he sighs, not even bothering to turn his head with the foresight to realise where this was going. Hearing Ellie snicker into her hand, her other clutching into his shoulder with anticipation also brought some clarity.  ‘Yeah, the only animal there was a dog. It was a Shizu. Get it? Get it, a Shit-zo-’. Joel just gave a groan that erupted from the pit of his stomach, pretending not to laugh as Ellie erupted into giggles, throwing her head back against your chin.

Joel gazed forward, looking out past the large stretch of empty highway and over the impending treeline speckled in the distance towards the swirl of dull pink and sweet lavender that had begun to transfigure the sky. ‘Yeah, see, this is the problem’, he grunted, ‘maybe being a runner wouldn’t be so bad.’ He couldn’t hide the fact that he was beginning to grin too. 

Ellie snorted, and waved her hand out towards the upcoming building. ‘Well if you go in there, I think your wish will come true.’ Her words brought a fresh wave of silence over the three of you; the kind of forlorn, contemplative stillness that hadn’t shrouded itself over your little makeshift family since you all lost Sam and Henry-. You shuddered, not wanting to go back there anymore. It had been hard enough burying them, let alone trying to deal with the solitude of Ellie’s guilt and the barricading walls Joel had thrown back up at even the mention of the too small grave. It had been hard, the last few weeks, and you didn’t want the people you loved most in this derelict world to fall back into a hopelessness you had fought so hard to drag them out of. 

You didn’t miss the way Joel had glanced back down at his watch though, his face hardening as he steered Callus on.

‘It will be alright, Ellie’, you patted her shoulder and winced as the sound of more infected began to ring out through the dusk and pierce your ears. Ellie shook: not with fear of them, but with terror at the thought that it could take just one wrong move, one wrong moment in this life for her to be left alone again. To be left behind. To lose everyone she loved, yet again. 

But she was brave, and strong, and ready to fight for every scrap she had in spite of the world’s indifference. ‘I know,’ was all she whispered as the three of you came to a stop in front of the mall’s perimeter. The resignation didn’t last too long, though; as soon as Joel had given you his hand to help you down onto the curb, Ellie had started up again at the groans of the building’s floors constricting with the cold.

As Joel had given you a boost up past the half-blown brick wall leaking frost out from the west side of the building, Ellie had thrown her hands up in disgust. ‘Fine!’, she grabbed Callus’ reigns and led him over to a bent piece of iron fence at the edge of the perimeter. ‘If either of you fuckers decide to become infected, I’m gonna kick your shins!’ Even with the crossed arms and huff that followed, when you turned your head to look back at her, she had given you a silent, pleading nod warning you to both come back in one piece. With a final reassuring smile in her direction, you had left the girl stroking Callus’ back, and leant down to heave Joel over into the grave darkness.

The first thing you heard was the sound of sneakers pounding through the walls, the huffing and sliding of about ten bodies coming running towards you. Drawing out your knife from your back pocket, you readied yourself for the oncoming onslaught, but it never arrived. Instead, you were blinded by the sudden flash of gunfire as Joel stepped in front of you, using himself to shield himself from the infected unhinging their mouths and running into the gunfire. Only when he was sure the last one had stopped twitching on the ground did he lower his gun and turn to look at you, raging frenzy clear in his eyes. 

Yet he was so gentle. So, so gentle with you. He clicked on his torch and clipped it onto the lapel of Frank’s old plaid shirt, stained once again with the scent of blood. He reached out a hand towards you, chest heaving as he turned his back to the litter of bodies now staining the linoleum floor. 

‘Are you- are you alright?’ He didn’t know exactly what to do, bless him. So unsure as to how, or if he should show affection anymore. His face fell stern as he looked you up and down, yet his fingers itched against his thighs and clawed at his jeans, as if he were desperate to touch you and make sure himself. You reached out to him with one arm, and he tenderly took your wrist within his fingers. He couldn’t quite bring himself to hold your hand yet, to allow himself that sort of vulnerability, to ever give in to that sort of familiarity with another person again, but it was a step in the right direction.

‘Are you okay?’ The question was more desperate now, more sober, and the most genuine reflection of his pounding heart as he flipped your hand over and used his pointer finger to check your pulse. Sometimes, when the three of you got into tough scraps, it would be the only thing that could bring him back from that fear induced rage. You pretended not to feel his thumb shake against your wrist bone, instead nodding and dragging your fingers down to squeeze his own. ‘Let’s keep going. Ellie will be freaking out by now.’

‘Yes, I am! What the fuck was that!’, you heard echoing in from outside, the alarm in Ellie’s voice filling the vacuous hallway. 

Joel managed to huff out a laugh, before shouldering his gun back round his side and nodding at you. He swallowed thickly, but even as you brushed past him to head further towards the shops, you could see how desperately he was scrunching his lips to try and push away the worry that flickered in his eyes.

And now? After all that? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

You kick the empty case clear half way across the store, grunting in victory as you hear it smash against the legs of a frayed mannequin and toss it down onto the floor. An ash cloud of dust sprays up at the movement, making Joel cross his arm in front of his mouth and hack a cough as he’s sprayed in white.

‘We still haven’t tried the door behind the counter.’

‘Joel, we’ve tried every damn door in the country. Plus, it’s sealed shut, and I don’t see you packing any shivs to open it.’ You sigh and squat down to the ground, holding your head in your hands for a second. You only open them once you realise the thudding sound you hear is Joel moving over towards the back wall of the pharmacy, straight towards where a huge mass of spasming, bloated fungi seems to be pulsating on the wall.

‘Are you out of your damn mind?’, you seethe, as Joel reaches into his backpack to strap his gas mask on. 

‘On the contrary, I seem to be the only one in this room with any sense.’ Although his words seem to bite, you can hear the mocking tone drip through the crinkled words as they rasp out past the ventilator. Joel joins you in squatting down to the floor, although his movement is done a lot less gracefully and with a lot more complaining about sore joints. He moves the light away from where its strewn over the floorboards to land straight in the middle of the heaving mess, and the sight nearly makes you gag in shock.

‘Ugh, Jesus’, Joel mutters, his face contorting in disgust as he clenches his fist open and closed in preparation. The figure clenched into the wall in front of him was barely recognisable: it’s drooping face was now sprouting from behinds its eyelids, mouth open as if in a never-ending frozen scream, its lab coat caked in dried old blood that seemed to suggest he wasn’t the only one to die in this dank room. ‘Well, here goes nothing.’ Tentatively inching his hand forward, Joel waits for the poor bastard to come tearing off the wall and clamp its three teeth left around his fingers. Thankfully, both for his sake and your heart, which had decided to start pounding through your ears, Joel is successful in inching the infected’s hand out of the way. He reaches into the breast pocket, sighing in relief and turning towards round to your expectant face. 

Perched between his thumb and pointer finger is the rusted tip of a key.

‘Bingo’, he whistles as he stands up, stretching out his back and clicking his spine back into place. You shake your head as he heads off, following him round the counter edge and butting him out of the way once he reaches the back door. Shaking the handle one more time for good measure, you nab the key out of his hand and ignore the cry of indignation he gives you.

‘It’s my stuff we need, so I go first. Those are the rules.’

You slot the key into the lock and give it a firm twist. 

‘Absolutely not.’ You nearly jump when you feel Joel’s hand firmly clamp down on top of your own, effectively trapping you against the doorknob. You glare over at him, but feel the bitter remark you were about to whip out about how ‘he always puts himself in danger before me or Ellie’ dies on the tip of your tongue when you see how scared he looks. 

‘I go first.’ You tut. The grip on your hand grows firmer. His breath hitches as he bends and takes a step closer to you. He’s so close now, you can feel the rapid air escape his nose and brush over the side of your cheek. For a moment, neither of you are able to move; you’re both caught in some invisible entanglement, some building consequence the two of you have never been brave enough to breach before, some kind of tender understanding. You nod your head, realising now just how earnestly the two of you had been dancing around it: how the whole time you had known each other, one was always preparing to die for the other.

‘Please...I go first.’ His gaze drops to your lips, and then to your nose, and then finally settles, for the first time in a while, firmly on your eyes. Unwavering. Resolute. He lurches forward on the balls of his feet, and for a second you think he’s either about to headbutt you or kiss you. Instead, he gently uses his side to butt you out of the way, before turning his efforts to shouldering the door open in three abrupt pushes.

He lurches in, the door giving way before he expected it and taking his feet out from under him. He rolls to the floor, grunting with the effort as he nearly side rolls straight into the side of an empty rack of shelves. With the light in the musty room as bright as a grave, you’re left trying to figure out where Joel has gone by the sound of an empty pill bottle rolling across the room.

‘Joel? Joel! Where the fuck are you?’, you whisper, reaching your arms out and crouching down to try and find him in the darkness. ‘Shit, is that you? Are you alright?’ You grip onto something soft and squishy, Joel’s leg? It seems clad in denim, although slightly torn, as if he had skinned his whole knee slamming against the floor.

You realised your mistake only a second too late. Instead of the welcome, gravelly honey voice of one Joel Miller, and perhaps even the calloused fingers cupping your cheeks before taking your own to lurch himself back up, you were met by the spitting shriek straight into your face. ‘Oh, fuck!’ 

You roll backwards, slamming the back of your head straight into an iron railing. ‘Oh, doubley fu-’ Your shout is muffled by fingernails scraping over your forehead, a hand grasping onto your face and digging in until you could feel blood begin to run down the bridge of your nose. Grappling with your hand, you simultaneously try to pitch your knee up to stop the clicker from completely detaching from the wall and clambering on top of you, and wrestling past its bumpy elbow to reach the knife stuck behind your back. Gnashing teeth leaves drool dripping down onto your neck, and you groan with the effort of trying to stop them from tearing a chunk out of your jugular.

You finally manage to grasp onto the hilt of your knife, trying to lift up your backside to slide it out of your pocket and straight into the skull of the infected on top of you. It doesn’t matter though. A second later, it feels as if molten is being poured in gushes down onto your bare skin; you stifle a shudder as the blood leaks out from the clicker’s eye sockets and sprays over your shoulder blades. You squint, just about managing to make out the outline of Joel’s clenched teeth and furrowed brow as he pulls the crowbar he had managed to find out of the thing’s skull. Pushing it to the side, it flops unceremoniously onto the floor.

‘Jesus...’, you warble out, still slightly in shock that you had come so close to the end right there and then. So clumsily close. So stupidly.

Joel doesn’t give you a chance to finish your thought. You swear it must have hurt when he threw himself down onto the ground, not even pretending to be calm and collected as he comes sliding on his knees over to you. 

‘Are you hurt?’ 

‘H-huh?’

His hands are shaking as they reach up to roam over your face, his movements rapid and rushed and so carelessly unlike him that it only winds you deeper into your confused stupor. Before this - sure, he may have been concerned, but it was always hidden behind a thick wall of confidence and level headedness. But this, this was different. He was gripping onto the sides of your face as if the skin was about to peel away from your body in front of him; he was trembling in the way only a man marred by ghosts could be. As the flashlight blinked across the floor, the glass smashed into fractured shoots by Joel’s fall, all his mind can see with each glare is Sarah suspended in front of him.

‘Are you hurt?’ His voice is shaking as he speaks, tilting your face back and forth as if he’s scanning you for any scrabs and bites, yet his fingers are moving too quickly to truly take any of you in.

‘I’m fine, I’m fine. I just, ah-’, you cup his hands and bring them to rest within your own, both of you using each other’s weight to try and lever yourselves to a standing position again. ‘I think my ankle is twisted slightly.’ You watch his eyes widen, and try your best to shoot him a reassuring smile despite how shaken you were feeling. ‘It’s alright, it’ll be fine once I shake it off. Especially since I see another med-pack over there.’ You let go of one of his hands to point past his shoulder, finally coming back to yourself when you spot another plastic box hanging, squished in between the pharmacist's desk and the wall. 

Despite the elated glow that seems to suddenly gleam in your eyes as you hobble over bits of broken glass and clamber over the smashed up computer monitor, Joel doesn’t let go of you the whole way. Not even when you unclasp the lock and throw the lid back, tilting your head back and laughing in near hysteric delight when you see the full bottles still nestled in dust inside. They move from your hands, up your arms and around your shoulders, squeezing your biceps as the two of you make your way quietly back through the supermall and back out towards the hole to freedom.

‘Fuck me! I thought you guys were gonners for sure!’ For a second, as you glanced out and saw Ellie bent over with her hands on her hips with the relief of seeing the two of you dumbasses hobble back into view, you thought the young girl was going to collapse to the ground. Instead, she took a deep breath and turned back to you with a surprisingly serious look on her face. ‘Did you find any comics in there?!’

‘Are you kidding-’ Joel murmurs out with a huff, waving his hand at her in dismissal. Ellie only raises her hand in a shrug before flipping him off, but the two of them are both smiling as Joel offers you his hand. You take it easily, but before you drop down to the grass again, you surprise Joel Miller for about the third time that day.

Before he even has a chance to blink, you lean towards him and press your lips against the side of his stubbly cheek. His eyes widen, but even as you press a second, quicker kiss against his cheek, he seems too stoic to pull away. When you finally do, he raises two fingers up to the wet patch now gleaming on his skin, and looks at you with a rapturous confusion.

‘Thank you. For everything. For still being here’, is all you whisper with a final look back at him, before falling down through the sliver of dark orange that still falls like firelight between the breaks in the pine trees. Ellie welcomes you back energetically, nearly knocking you over with the speed in which she comes running towards you and wraps her arms around your midriff, squishing the side of her face into your chest.

Joel watches the two of you for a moment: the way Ellie looks up at you as if you were pure unbridled hope as she unlatches herself from you, the way you grab her hand and help her hop back up onto Callus’ back, coming to rest on the side of the saddle before animatedly falling into conversation with her, most likely checking up to make sure she was doing okay with all of this.

He blinks back the wistfulness from his eyes as he stands on the stone strewn crag of the building, the soft ground suddenly seeming so far away. As he watches you, he tries to figure out what he feels: love? Longing? Guilt? Before he even notices, he finds his gaze has drawn itself back down to his wrist, the shattered clock face seemingly staring him down and stifling whatever happiness he was trying to feel.

He covers it with his hands, rubbing his fingers over the side as if it were burning his skin and he couldn’t bear to carry the weight of it anymore. But then you call over to him, and Ellie waves her hand up and beckons him to come down with a bright grin and yell, and suddenly the heaviness seems to unburden, to unlatch its grip on his stomach. 

Sure, the misery of his past still haunted him, still dragged behind his head as he jumped and landed on the ground with a thump. But as he slowly jogged back over to the two of you, the shadows were beginning to lift. The light was beginning to break through, and Joel Miller couldn’t remember feeling so bullishly light in all his life.

[humbledragon669]

S1E5 – The Doomsday Option Write Up P2 - Saturday (The last day of the World) from "the wiggle on" to "He was waving"

Alright, so now we have the seed of hope planted for an Aziraphale/Crowly reunion, this episode moves, pretty swiftly, through a number of plot threads that now all need to be brought together to serve as the climax for the season.

Thread number one: Madame Tracy and Shadwell, and their purpose in the storyline.

I don’t have a great deal to say about this scene, only one tiny question. Why is that Julia makes no move to hand over a “donation” to Madame Tracy?

Both Mrs. Ormerod and Mr. Scroggie (brilliant names by the way) are clearly well-prepared to be handing their money over, but not so young Julia. I don’t think it’s important, just one of those little things I wondered about when I was watching the scene back.

Thread number two: bringing the Four Horsemen together.

Couple of things to point out in the next montage sequence, including an Easter egg or two. Firstly, the immigration official has clearly become disillusioned with her job in the short time that she granted Anathema into the country.

It’s a very different interaction than the one she had with Anathema where she was actually paying attention. Even Famine seems puzzled at her lack of interest. Next up I just want to say that I really didn’t have the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse down for being tea-drinkers. Don’t get me wrong, I’m British. Tea is the foundation of civilised society as far as I’m concerned. But that’s kind of the point, isn’t it? These four characters are about to, quite happily, undo all of civilisation. Always time for a cup of tea I suppose though. And now for an Easter egg! Feels like it’s been a minute since I’ve pointed one of those out. The top scores on the arcade game next to the one that Death is playing on are all allocated to D.EATH, except for the #1 spot, which goes to T. PRATCHETT.

There is another Easter egg here for the eagle-eyed, this one of the apple variety – one of the questions on the quiz machine asks what year Apple Computers was founded in.

And the last thing about the quiz machine: the machine that displays the “GAME OVER” sign is actually not the machine that Death has been playing on:

As a little side note, once we realise that it’s Death playing on the quiz machine, we can appreciate that he has in fact been there from the beginning of the scene. I wouldn’t swear to it given the camera angles that are used, but I don’t think his bike is in the car park when War arrives. You could argue that it’s out of shot, but I’m still pretty sure she would have recognised it for what it was and known that he was already inside. Famine and Pollution too. So why aren’t they aware of his presence from the outset? Again, probably not important, and the little quiz machine interaction provides some much-needed light comedy.

Back to thread number one. I found little of interest in this scene prior to Aziraphale’s arrival from the spirit world, aside from the vapid personality of Mrs. Ormerod and the obvious dig at the validity of psychic mediums whilst using the delightfully oblivious Mr. Scroggie. What I do really enjoy about this scene is the sound editing (I know, you’re all shocked I’m picking up on sound cues…). We know that something is about to happen when a low rumble begins, enforced by some lightly flickering candles in a room with no breeze, but the real joy here is the sequence of noises, animal, human, and object, that issues from Madame Tracy’s mouth as Aziraphale takes up residence in her body. Miranda Richardson does a pretty stella job here too – this was either really fun to shoot or incredibly embarrassing. I’d lean towards the former, given she’s largely a comic actress, but managing to keep a straight face throughout the whole thing must have taken an incredible degree of self-control. I’d be quite interested to know how much free reign she was given with this, how much of it was improvised, and if she knew there was going to be extra noises added in post-production. Here’s a list of the noises that I could pick up in the sequence that takes place during Aziraphale’s possession:

Rumbling noise before Madame Tracy starts vocalising.

Madame Tracy making a low rumbling noise.

Elephant trumpeting.

The noise of something ramping up, like a turbine engine but not. No idea what this noise actually is!

Thunder (from outside the house – accompanied by lightning).

Madame Tracy’s short shout followed by very high and musical almost-screams.

Another one of those weird ramping up noises but shorter and sharper.

Panting.

Madame Tracy blowing a raspberry.

Loud singing (enforced in the soundtrack) of the William Tell overture.

Madame Tracy belching.

A little quacking noise made by Madame Tracy.

A fart (no way was I leaving this off the list), which puts a definitive stop to any other noises that are ongoing.

Pretty impressive. Those sound editors aren’t done yet though, because aside from another chaotic sound sequence for Ron’s possession, there’s still a load of work to do with the voices coming out of Madame Tracy’s mouth. I love the way they shift between her voice and Aziraphale’s during the following sequence, starting from the very first sentence that she says after the possession has completed – she starts out as Madame Tracy and finishes as Aziraphale (in German, which we were led to believe that he couldn’t speak back in 1941). There are times in this scene where both voices come out of her mouth at the same time and there are other times where Madame Tracy speaks in her own voice but in a deeper tone, and times where it’s one or the other speaking, and it’s all so seamlessly stitched together. Not to mention the fact that it never once looks like it’s not Miranda Richardson speaking – her lip movements match the words exactly. She even adapts some of Aziraphale’s mannerisms when she’s speaking as him.  It’s a really brilliantly put together scene. The sound sequences for Ron’s possession (played by none other than Johnny Vegas) are more difficult to pick out because the surrounding scene is very noisy (not that Shadwell would know anything about that, sound asleep in the unaffected boudoir) but I did manage to pick out:

Another raspberry.

A short squeal.

A line from “Moonlight Becomes You” (by Johnny Mathis, I couldn’t see any immediate Easter eggs or references from the lyrics).

A prolonged shout.

More thunder.

What sounds like a piano string or strings (from low down the keyboard) being struck.

A retching noise like someone’s about to hurl.

Something bubbling.

Howling.

Lightning.

Fireworks, used in the same way as the fart in the first sequence – to cut off all the other noises.

It feels like quite a jolt moving from all that cacophony into Madame Tracy’s peaceful kitchen. There’s one little thing that really makes me giggle in this scene:

She seems pretty blasé about the fact that there’s a blonde, slightly transparent, male figure staring back at her from the mirror. It’s only when he actually waves back at her that she reacts at all, and even then it’s pretty muted. I think most of us would have taken off screaming at that point, or pass out, but not Madame Tracy, she’s way too worldly-wise for that dramatic nonsense.

I was a little puzzled at the choice of soundtrack for Crowley’s battle against the traffic in the next scene, but then I wondered whether it was a reference to the M25 being another one of Crowley’s plans that started out so well and then ending up foundering “on the rocks on iniquity”, which appears to be a bit of a running theme throughout the show – first the misplacing of the Antichrist, again in his desperate pleas to Aziraphale for them to run away together, and in his failed rescue of the angel. This particular instance of Crowley’s well-intentioned failings would suggest that it’s a characteristic he has been prone to for a long while, and that the foundering of his plans can take anything from seconds to decades. And just for a bit of fun, a tried to get screenshots of the M25 before and after Crowley’s interference:

I also noticed that the projector Crowley uses is marked as belonging to Room 11:

Having fallen foul of my neglect in consulting Strong’s Concordance with numbers in my write ups before, I did actually remember to look this one up. According to my scant research, 11 in Strong’s Concordance represents a place of destruction or ruin. Whether this is a reference to Crowley’s original intentions for the M25, the eventual fate and purpose of the M25 in the show, or a tongue-in-cheek remark to the experience of actually driving on the M25 in real life isn’t clear. Maybe it’s a bit of all three. Or maybe it’s just a random number. Unlikely I think.

Now that Shadwell’s had a nice little snooze, he also seems to have had some sort of personality transplant. That’s the only real explanation for the impassioned attempt at protecting Madame Tracy’s dignity, right? I think we as the audience all know better, but he clearly forgets himself in the heat of his jealous moment. Interestingly, the mirror no longer appears to show Aziraphale’s reflection:

I think this might just have been a case of budgetary or time restraints rather than an intent to convey anything specific. Whatever the reason, Aziraphale doesn’t seem too upset at Shadwell for discorporating him. One question though – how does the angel know that Shadwell has referred to him as “the Southern pansy” before? As far as I can remember, he never uses that name to his face, which only really leaves the possibility that he has obtained the information from Madame Tracy, who has heard him refer to Aziraphale in that way at least once before. I find it unlikely she would have told the angel the offensive name that had been allocated to him, which suggests he has obtained the news from her own thoughts. Obviously at this point Madame Tracy is sharing the residence of her body, but it does raise an interesting question for later when Aziraphale and Crowley perform the body switch – would they be able to read the thoughts of the other without the sentience of that other being present concurrently?

Whilst we are on the topic of how people know things that they do, how does Crowley know the M25 has just combusted into a ring of infernal flames? I know we’ve had the whole “Crowley turned the M25 into a hellhole” scenario written out for us already, but that was to do with the eternal traffic jams he caused, not some sort of hidden boobie trap that would cause it to spontaneously combust. Presumably this is one of those things his demon-sense tells him has simply happened, like when Adam welcomed the Hellhound into his life.

I find the next scene with the cold caller provides an interesting overview of the way nuisance callers have evolved across the years. The basis for the call in the original book was double glazing, but we’ve moved on to ambulance chasers in the show. As a society I think it’s likely we’ve moved on even further now, from using actual real people to individually make these calls to automated recordings, but Hastur wouldn’t be able to eat them all in that case, thus denying the audience the satisfaction of the sick justice he unwittingly wreaks on the call centre staff. Got ourselves a little Easter egg here too – the message that Lisa types out on her screen (to a colleague or as a note on a casefile isn’t clear) is the title of a Queen song:

This happens to be the very song that Crowley was listening to in the Bentley on the M25. She also types that up right before she arrives his own casefile (titled “Anthony Cowwley”, which differs from the book’s “A J Cowlley”).

Shifting back to Crouch End now (this episode really does jump around a lot doesn’t it?!), can we just take a moment to gape at Aziraphale adamantly declaring that the Antichrist must be killed. The Antichrist who is a child. It really wasn’t that long ago that he was vehemently stating that he himself could never do such a thing, nor could he endorse it without suggesting that it would be for the good of Heaven’s reputation. Now though, he’s very happy to encourage a human, for whom the consequences of killing an innocent child would be dire in Heaven’s eyes, and even worse for killing the Antichrist as far as Hell is concerned, to do the deed, but this time the motivation is nothing to do with his employer; it revolves around the fate of the World. It feels like something of an oxymoron – his siding with humanity driving an incredibly inhumane act. In fairness, Shadwell follows it up with an oxymoron of his own:

So, as far as Shadwell’s concerned: witches? Kill without question. The Antichrist? Not so sure. Even if he’s going to bring about the end of the world. Sounds like he’s all good with the plan when Aziraphale tells him that he has traits associated with witches though. Good morals Shadwell, well done. Perhaps not quite as terrifying as Aziraphale’s declaration of triumph when the sergeant suggests they can use a massive antique gun to fire lumps of building materials to assassinate the Antichrist. Again I’ll point out that Adam is a child, but perhaps it wasn’t clear enough earlier on that Aziraphale also knows he’s a child.

I don’t know whether what I’m about to say describes a typically British behaviour when caught in traffic jams or not, but here goes. Anybody else find it suspect that other people aren’t either already driving down the hard shoulder or that Crowley doesn’t have a giant tail of cars following him? I’ve been in my fair share of motorway gridlocks, enough to know that once some entitled prick starts driving down the hard shoulder in attempt to assert their own self-importance over the rest of the people caught in the chaos, anybody else with delusions of grandeur will follow suit very quickly. Not for Crowley though, he’s just pottering down the escape lane under his own steam. And is it just me, or does it feel like a bit of a violation when Hastur removes Crowley’s glasses? Looks to me like Crowley feels like that as well to be fair.

He manages to get over his surprise quickly enough though, characteristically engaging his brain into full gear to try and find a solution, which he does with an interesting choice of music:

I find it interesting because it deviates from what we have come to believe is his usual taste in music. Mozart would actually seem to be more Aziraphale’s taste than Crowley’s. It’s also a pretty sedate underscore for what he’s about to do. As a side note, this piece not only doesn’t actually start from the beginning when it starts playing in the Bentley, but is also used in another one of my favourite shows – Our Flag Means Death. In that show, it’s used as background music in the final episode when Prince Ricky is strolling down the street his victory over the pirates with another naval officer. The Mozart doesn’t stick around for long though, morphing into Queen’s “I’m In Love With My Car” (no need to point out the reference with this one) as Hastur starts to lose his calm. For those who haven’t read the book, or just don’t remember this detail, there is mention of this phenomenon in the original text – the apparently common mystery that every tape or CD left in a car is doomed to become a Queen album eventually, but this little detail is left out in the show, with the audience instead being led to believe that the CD player plays mood-appropriate music instead.

The speech we get from Crowley here goes a long way to showing us how much he has come to love both humanity and modernity – he’s actually quite complimentary about humans and their ability to invent new things.

Lovely clever people, inventing cars and motorways and windscreen wipers.

He also, in a very dismissive way, puts a clear distinction between himself and Hastur with his marking of the difference between his feelings towards the 14th century and what he believes the Duke of Hell would have thought. That simple little line actually says a lot to me about how he believes he distanced himself from the other beings in Hell – it’s a clear declaration of “we are not the same”. I also find myself wondering if Crowley had little to no contact with Aziraphale during the 14th century, contributing to his dislike of the time period. We certainly never see anything of the sort – the meetings we bear witness to have a large gap between 537 and 1601, though the book and script book tells us that there was definitely a meeting in 1020, and the script would suggest that there were several (dozens of them in fact) meetings between that and the 1601 meeting.

It's interesting to hear that Hastur is concerned that he’s going to be discorporated as it confirms he’s been issued with a human body, just like Crowley, even though he doesn’t reside on Earth. I’d be interested to know if the body was issued to him in that state or whether it looks pretty run down because of Hastur’s lack of appropriate care (which would in turn suggest that both Aziraphale and Crowley have had to work towards maintaining the appearance of their own corporal beings). And whilst we’re on the subject of bodily appearances, I love the little detail that the snake component of Crowley’s eyes now fill his entire eyeball as he maniacally drives through the flames.

I have a suspicion that the size of the snake “irises” (for want of a better word) is reliant on his emotional state, but I don’t feel like I have the patience to go through the show and test the theory. And I don’t know if those little horizontal lines on Crowley’s nose were intentional here or whether that’s just a natural crease in David’s face, but they certainly strengthen the snake resemblance. As a final comment on this scene, we actually hear God telling us that Crowley really is fundamentally different from his peers – he has an imagination. Which is not so different from the idea that Aziraphale is different from his peers because he has free will, a theme that has been presenting itself, with increasing clarity, throughout the series.

Final little note for this section, and it’s about this snippet of epic:

Apparently the most amazing thing about this, according to the local bobby, isn’t the fact that the car is on fire, or that it’s just driven through a wall of fire, or that it’s still moving forward, or even that the person inside it is not only alive, but unharmed and still capable of driving. No, the most amazing thing is that the driver is waving. Gotta love the way us Brits have a way of stating simple facts to display complete amazement.

Right, this section went on for way longer than I thought it was going to so I’m going to cut it short. I was hoping to get as far as the defection of The Them from Adam, but as soon as I started watching that scene I realised I had more to say about it than I thought, so I’m going to let you go for now. As always, questions, comments, discussion – always welcome! See you next time 😊

[paeliae-occasionally]

Marsh sounds hilarious, so I'll ask: Loredump me about him :) Tell me every dumb little headcanon (or canon) you've got. I wanna hear everything!

Gladly!

Intro

Marsh first arose because I wanted a villain who was doing bad things, but not because of trauma or because something was making them do it, so Marsh is the happiest of all of my characters and has the most autonomy. This makes his decisions to do bad things even more impactful, because he has no excuse, he just enjoys it.

Backstory

Marsh and Daimion were born in a small town to a pair of working class people, and even at a young age Marsh was a problem. He killed a couple of wild animals in the woods just to see how they died, and also received many reports from teachers about misconduct and strange comments and questions he asked. He realised from a young age that he gets a sense of joy and fulfilment from ending lives he deems useless, but at this point he is still a little afraid of the social consequences and moral implications of this.

Marsh’s parents, not knowing what to do, sent both boys to train in the military at the youngest age they could, 13. (They were not stationed anywhere, just trained for when they were old enough to serve.)

Both of them advanced quickly in the next few years. When they turned 18 and were both able to be selected for a division, they were both selected for an elite unit which carried out high importance operations and had almost complete immunity from any war crime, or human rights concerns. By this point Marsh decides to accept that he enjoys killing, and stops holding himself back for the sake of morality. He finds this really freeing and feels much happier after this realisation. Because of this he tries in vain to convince Daimion to do the same as him.

The men here were basically raised together and there was a strong lad-ish culture which Marsh and Daimion engaged in for a while, then later steered clear of. Daimion is always more hesitant of the violence part of the job, but marsh assures him that he just has to accept that he likes it, then he could stop worrying and enjoy it. Daimion secretly does enjoy it, and hates himself for doing it, he could never accept it the way Marsh does.

As young men they served with enthusiasm, Marsh particularly enjoyed torturing and killing spies that were brought in, and he gained a bit of a reputation in the military because of his skill at it. The division was happy for him to enjoy it however he liked if he kept getting information, but Daimion became uncomfortable and the other people in the division stopped talking to Marsh.

Hazi

One day, 5 years into their service with this unit, they were ordered to fire on innocent civilians and massacre the whole village with no survivors. The village was called Hazi. Marsh and Daimion both started shooting, but Daimion had a giant mental breakdown at his waring ideas of loyalty and following orders, and his morality and sense of justice. He ends up being unable to bring himself to keep shooting, and knowing what the unit will do if he disobeys a direct order, he runs away.

The survivors of the initial killings managed to escape as the unit was re-assigned to finding Daimion, rather than catching stragglers.

Marsh is annoyed that Daimion didn’t come to him first before running, but decides there is no place for him here anymore, and he would be bored without his brother, so he opens fire on his comrades, killing 5 and wounding another 3 He tries to kill a boy who he knew well and cared about, but is stopped when he feels an irrational pain at the idea of killing someone who he would rather see alive. He has felt a similar pain when he tries to kill someone he considers useful. From this moment on, he never tries to kill someone useful, or that he cares about, because the joy he usually feels is replaced with pain, and that is not worth his effort.

Marsh ends up back in a nearby city sleeping on a rooftop with his weapons. Eventually he gets bored again and travels down to the central square and proceeds to kill 32 people and wound 14. He is arrested and sentenced to 32 life sentences, but in no way regrets it because of how much he enjoyed the experience.

His military record gets him placed in a high security prison, but in time he finds a way to escape his cell. He kills a guard with his own weapon, and taking his keys, he escapes his cell and goes on another killing spree, killing 41 inmates and 16 guards. When he gets tired, he just returns straight back to his cell, with the keys. The guards would try to take the keys back, but he also kept his weapons and people are terrified of entering a cell with him.

After a few years of moving him to more and more secure prisons, Marsh is visited by Daimion and his girlfriend Zahra. They ask him some questions about Hazi. They are trying to return a child to the survivors of the massacre, and asked Marsh’s help in finding them.

Marsh says he’ll think about it, as soon as they leave the room, he knocks out a guard with their own weapon and shoots everyone in the room. Daimion and Zahra run. Marsh shoots 52 more inmates and 22 guards in this attack alone, then fully escapes the prison to join Dai and Zahra.

This is the point at which the WIP starts, so I will leave it here for now. Hope this is interesting. <3

[squarebracketsmileyface]

sorry to be annoying in your asks again but holy shit blood sport by sleep token is S,IL jaylex

especially the line "I'm still your favourite regret, you're still my weapon of choosing"

you gotta listen to this specific version of the song

https://open.spotify.com/track/0KXo5mxUPK5KTK4BRqAGVh?si=qBWhkqNHRpyUxkNT40pm4Q

It took me so long to get round to listening to this I'm so sorry 💀

God you're so good tho, this is literally so perfect for them. Specifically Alex, this just sounds like Alex to me, like Alex when he's kinda starting to really realise he really did like Jay back but was too scared in uni to let himself realise that.

Tho, that lyric you picked out is VERY Jay. Like, he is indeed Alex's favourite regret, and Alex is his weapon of choice. He uses Alex as a weapon against himself, like, the way Jay treats/uses their scenes? (The way he treats/uses Alex) That's just self harm baybeeeeeee. He uses their scenes to hurt himself, and also hurts Alex along the way 💀

Very healthy dynamic they've got going on there /sarc

Anyway, some more specific lyrics under the thingumy:

I want to roll the numbers I want to feel my stars align again Even if the earth breaks like burnt skin And the heavens just won't open up for me Would you invite me in again? Won't you pay for your arrogance? Won't you show me your weakness?

I made loving you a blood sport (X2) I made loving you a blood sport i can't win I made loving you a blood sport (X2) I made loving you a blood sport i can't win

Just. Yeah just them. Their relationship really is a blood sport 💀 (Google says a blood sport is: a sport involving the hunting, wounding, or killing of animals.) and they do in fact hurt each other, and i mean, chapter 1 of Sorry, Its Locked they did do a bit of vaguely primal stuff, so thats the hunting aspect of it too lol.

And neither of them can win. No matter what they seem to do, both of them always seem to lose (tho Alex keeps seeming to lose harder than Jay does 💀 I'm so mean to my poor baby boy). The only way for them to win is to stop playing the bloody game, but they're not going to until something absolutely awful happens and forces them to (and until Amy comes along and talks some sense into Alex).

And somewhere Somewhere the atoms stopped fusing I'm still your favourite regret You're still my weapon of choosing And out there stuck in a quantum pattern Tangled with what I never said You say it doesn't matter I want to be forgiven I want to choke up chunks of my own sins Even if the sky cracks in mourning And the heavens just won't open up for me Would you invite me in again? Let me pay for my arrogance? Won't you show me your weakness?

Again ALEX. The fact that he couldn't realise how much he genuinely did like Jay back in uni is wrapped around him so tightly during the events of MH in S,IL. Those things he never said, never realised, are the entire reason he does what he does in the original fic of Sorry, It's Locked, they're the reason he is so cruel to Jay the morning after, they're the reason he reaches out to him again, and fucks him again. Because he knows how he felt now and he can't say it, but he needs to try and do something about it. But then he realises how much danger that's putting Jay in, and he realises he loves Jay too much to keep putting him in danger, so he has to try and break his heart so that he doesn't have to shoot him in it instead.

That bit about being forgiven could also be Alex wanting to be forgiven for "what he did in uni" (which in the grand scheme of their relationship, he reeeeeaaaaally wasn't the one causing most of the problems or the one doing the worst things *cough cough* Jay being way too pushy around sex *cough cough* the piece of shit *cough cough*) BUT I also kinda wanna see it in conjunction with the next like about choking on his sins. Like, Alex was brought up religious, and sure heading off to uni he figured out his own world view and decided "hey all my queer friends are literally fine? They're not evil or sinful or whatever", but that doesn't mean he'd managed to get it into his own head that it was okay for him to be queer too. Like, "it's fine for my friends but not for me" type shit.

And like "the heavens won't open up for me" too, another bit of Alex being like 'welp, im not getting into heaven, but maybe thats okay if i can reconnect with Jay again and hey maybe god won't accept me, but maybe Jay will.' Then that backfired because he realised "SHIT THE OPERATOR, GOTTA PROTECT JAY" lol

I made loving you a blood sport (X2) I made loving you a blood sport i can't win I made loving you a blood sport (X2) I made loving you a blood sport i can't win

And somewhere Somewhere the atoms stopped fusing I'm still your favourite regret You're still my weapon of choosing And out there stuck in a quantum pattern Tangled with what I never said You say it doesn't matter

[caliburn-the-sword]

AUSTRALIA HAS FERAL CAMELS??

no hate at all, just w h y?? what about this question is so embarrassing that you gotta be anonymous?? also i don't remember ever mentioning we have camels on this page so i love how you just consult your friendly neighbourhood aussie instead of like. google FKSDHFHKS. i was about to go "omg how DARE you just assume i'm from the outback and just know these things i'm literally a city rat" and realised that i DID in fact know these things because of school LMAO (astronomically rare aus high school curriculum W for not glossing over the history of poc in this country). i don't normally do this but that question was so random and shocking that i just HAVE to dive into this lmao just don't expect this to become a regular thing

okay, i wouldn't know about FERAL camels, but i do know about camels. south asian and middle eastern cameleers are the unsung heroes of australia fr, so time for a crash course in history with me <3

now, australia is REALLY fucking big right?? we're only a bit smaller than mainland usa. and like a WHOLE lot of australia is desert, which the useless brit colonisers couldn't traverse if their lives DEPENDED on it (both figuratively and literally; many died) but travel across states and exploration was becoming increasingly necessary. now part of this reason is that horses are Not built for the outback. but you know what IS built for desert?? camels. and who has both access to both camels and an ability to traverse desert?? south asian and middle eastern people.

so between the 18 hundreds and 1920s (you'll have to forgive me for a lack of specifics because it's been 3 years since i've last taken modern history) australia started letting in cameleers predominantly muslim from india and pakistan. these amazing people were the absolute BACKBONE of exploration, transporting goods and stuff between cities and all that. they also established the firsts mosques in australia!!

the need for cameleers pretty much stopped in the 1920s. most cameleers couldn't remain in australia because of the white australia policy, which basically barred immigration of anyone who wasn't a WASP. they were forced back to their old countries, and released their camels into the outback since they couldn't be brought back.

now i think feral camels DOES ring a bell from what i studied of robyn davidson in eng adv. the camels descended from the cameleers' camels are the feral ones in the outback. she was the first woman to cross the desert back in the 70s. check out her autobiography tracks. the only thing i really remember from it was her having to shoot and kill feral camels to survive, but not because it's poorly written, just because i have to read a LOT for eng LMAO. my entire class was actually really invested in it.

like MANY animals introduced to australia, camels are actually NOT good for the environment. very harsh on native plants and wildlife. can't go into specifics because i frankly don't know enough and i'm too lazy for google (i guess that would make two of us) but that's not the camels fault or the cameleers' fault obviously. everyone say it with me: fuck the brits.

ANYWAY this is far from extensive. as fun as it is for me to get to ramble on about history, i'm no expert, and i'd definitely recommend reading more up on it if it's of interest to you. and PLEASE don't trust me on this, i'm just a stranger on the internet. i didn't google jack shit, just went purely off memory. fact check me. don't just completely absorb this blindly. or do. who am i to tell you what to do?? i'm not your mum.

this was fun!!! i really hope dear anon sees this, or if they're not following me, that it happens upon their feed by some stroke of luck

[marshmallowsqoosh]

[MW2 | Apex]

Fandom: Modern Warfare 2 (2022) Title: Apex (AO3 Link) Rating: Teen CW: Mild depictions of violence and death Lesser Warnings: Merfolk Ghost and Soap, I 2000% don’t belong here oops, not beta’d, super short Summary: Super short and quick thing based on this gorgeous Mermay piece by  @ FanartByFire (Links go to twitter!)

My knowledge of Ghost and Soap is fanart and like three sections of MW2 (Specifically the Escape Scene ... I’ve watched it a shameful number of times), please be gentle orz I am way too tired and depressed to commit energy to playing myself, even though I want to.

Extras: Status: Complete Word Count: 1609

♠

Soap starts to wake up to pressure.

Familiar pressure, at first—being properly submerged instead of folded and squished into the horrific invisible barriers humans used for containment. Too weak to thrash, barely conscious most days. Whatever had kept him drowsy in the too small prison is starting to wear off, he thinks… he hopes.

Something thick in his mouth, wrapped around his head, had kept him from gnashing at the humans the few times he was coherent. It's still there, he realises, as more awareness returns to him; thick like too many kelp blades, when he needed something to bite down on while Ghost treated injuries—

A new sensation of pain makes his eyes dilate and awareness shoot through his body, senses starting to register everything all at once.

A secondary pressure all over his body—bound arms and body. He can kind of see long cords in his peripherals, attached in various locations to the shark body and connected to heavy… anchors, he thinks, they're called. He can feel them pulling on his pectoral fins, as well. Something heavy on his dorsal and tip of his ear, as well.

Something around his neck, as tight as everything else restricting his movement.

But what got his attention, he very quickly realises, is his own blood. A deep cut behind his left pectoral. Trying to dig his liver out—orca hunting? He thinks he remembers one of the humans mentioning a starved orca. They have another thing coming, if this is where they brought him to bait out a "starved orca".

One of the humans putting their hand in the wound confirms they're going for the liver; but, it just makes him thrash against the restraints and he does, briefly, dislodge at least one human. In the midst of the thrashing—he can kind of feel the humans trying to keep him still—he can hear… a song. A very familiar song that should be absolutely terrifying as it echoes off the rocks around him.

Ghost.

He sees the shadow beneath him, briefly. The humans don't notice, still occupied trying to get him still again. He feels the restraints tugging more and only begins to still his thrashing as he realises exactly how much danger he's putting himself in. Ignoring the blood—he isn't worried about the injury, that can be treated later—he can definitely tell some of the anchors are beginning to loosen. His chest heaves as he tries to bite through the thickness in his mouth; the humans make gestures at each other. Excited gestures—more and more animated and frantic whenever Ghost's song echoes around them. When it gets louder. Confusion when it gets softer or the moments it goes completely silent.

They have no idea how terrified they should be when it's so quiet.

Ghost is closer. He knows it. He needs to keep attention on himself—he knows both of them have the horrible weapons that put things to sleep. He wanted to have his own teeth available for this; but, he just needs to make due. Not difficult, when he feels the hand go into the gash on his tail, again.

They want him to thrash and look like a weak meal? He's all too delighted to comply—well. Not delighted. But he will be as soon as he gets his mouth free. For now the thrashing keeps attention on him, right up until Ghost more or less materialises behind the human with their hand in the open gash.

He knows it doesn't take much effort for Ghost to tear the human apart—claws digging into the torso and tearing upwards until it's severed from the lower half and his attention goes to the second human without missing a beat.

The second human tries to escape by swimming under Soap—maybe hoping that Ghost will be distracted by a free dinner. Distracted, yes—but just long enough he can tear at the binding on Soap's back. He sees the restraints fall off his front, the ring and everything attached to it slowly sinking; but, he doesn't let it distract him for long, already tearing at whatever's in his mouth until he finally gets it out—a thick strap, like the rest of the restraints—and immediately turns his attention to trying to twist in on himself to get his own teeth into the human.

"John—Johnny, hold still—!"

He maybe forgot about the rest of the restraints. He may be smaller than Ghost—and, generally, not nearly as strong—but in that moment of pulling his entire body to catch the human, he ends up pulling all of the anchors loose and it's only Ghost getting his claws through most of the connected cords that keeps Soap from being dragged into the depths or having any part of his tail torn off.

He'll be grateful later; right now, the only thing he's focused on is tearing the human apart with his teeth. Until Ghost finally pries the body away from him—well. Calling it a body is probably being generous. Scraps is more accurate. But, as those scraps float away, towards the surface, and Soap struggles to pull his breathing under control—torso heaving with shallow, rapid breaths—as Ghost turns his face, clearly looking for more injuries… everything starts to hit him finally and the anger starts to hit different.

Panic. Relief. He catches Ghost before he can circle to assess the open wound and just latches on as tight as he can. If his claws are digging too hard into Ghost's back, he doesn't say anything. Just closes his arms around Soap, until he's completely enveloped.

"I got ya, Johnny. I got ya. Let's get you home. Get that taken care of and you can have whatever y'want."

"... Wha'ever I want?" He means it as a joke. He means for it to be a lot more light-hearted than it comes out. Not as the quiet, almost stutter, of words that he's fairly sure gets lost against Ghost's chest. But, he's still comforted by the rumble caused from the quiet chuckle. A soothing vibration from deep in the orca's chest.

"Within reason."

Soap doesn't argue or try to fight against Ghost working himself free and ushering Soap along to their grotto. Not a far swim—it makes Soap painfully aware of the fact the humans have at least been tracking Ghost for… who even knows how long. Long enough to know where he preferred to hunt and sleep. Long enough to know where "bait" would be most effective.

The adrenaline is wearing off by the time they get home and it takes a concentrated effort for Soap to hoist himself onto the dried land mass in the center of their grotto. Enough that the gash isn't submerged anymore and his upper body collapses across the ground. The chill of air is already setting in, even as the part of his tail still in the water sways and his caudal fin splashes water up to keep his skin from drying out too horribly.

He's tired. Emotionally exhausted—still working his way through various stages of processing—and just physically exhausted after being in the cramped containment for… however long it's been. He wants to ask. Maybe he'll remember to later—

Of course, that's quickly the last thing on his mind as he feels something extra cold slathered onto his injury and it's only the awareness that it's Ghost that keeps him from turning and getting his teeth around the source of the unwelcome sensation. He still snarls out a curse—lost under his accent—and Ghost simply runs a heavy, albeit gentle, touch up his back.

"Easy. Know it ain't pleasant, but sooner it's done, sooner you're back in the water."

Soap does his best to hold still while Ghost works—a few more irritated growls and his caudal fin slapping the water in equal irritation… it might bring him a little bit of amusement went Ghost warns him to stop splashing him. He listens; but, it was still worth the short burst of pleasure.

He doesn't fight Ghost easing him back into the water, once the salve has a chance to set; easier to wrap his body in long strands of kelp binding, in the water, just to keep the wound covered while it heals. Soap promptly lets himself more or less collapse against Ghost's chest, again, once the binding's set and just stays there. He can still feel the weight on his right ear and something heavy on his dorsal. He saw something on his hip, earlier, but he's too damn tired (and maybe a little scared) to actually look at it.

"... So, what were you sayin' about reasonable, now?"

Ghost chuckles and runs a gentle claw back through Soap's hair, fingers flexing and skrtiching a soothing sensation into his scalp. "Reasonable in that it innit gonna send me too far. Think I'm leavin' you alone in this condition?"

Soap hums and moves up until he can push his face, stubbornly, into Ghost's neck. "Damn right you're not goin' off without me. One of us goes, we both go. … Just wanna rest right now, Si… ain't hit me yet and I know it's gonna. Want you right here where I can find ya and make sure this fuckery actually is over, aye?"

If he sounds like he's trying to convince himself, more than Ghost, neither of them say anything about it. Ghost simply pulls him down until they're laid out on the large, flat rock they use for a bed, and curls himself around Soap in a protective, secure hold.

[sarambcreates]

Through a Lens: Making the animation

I started out with the sequence that starts with the one frame I did by hand in class in order to define the stylizatiion. Rotoscoping was going to be my main animation techncque, so I had a sequence of myself filmed where I went from a sleeping position to covering my ears as if to cancel the noise out. I then uploaded this video to procreate, where each frame of the video gets uploaded as a separate layer.

I used each frame as base of the position the character needs to be in by loosely outlining myself. As seen below this is the result of how the image stays in the end stylised and with the character design, but uses my body as base for the movements she is about to make.

I repeated this process several times, making loose guies of the pose the body needs to be in for the animation

Once I had all these rough guidelines, it was time to make it stylised and part of the actual animation. Something that I still needed to consider were the expressions, as those were not captured in my video. To help myself out I made a small timeline guide of how her expression changes throughout this sequence, from start to finish.

With all frames of this sequence stylised and animated properly, this is the final result of this sequence.

Video also available at: https://youtu.be/dYe_RWPw7mI

With this sequence done, it was time to start the second one, which is actually the starting scene that leads into the completed scene. I did the same process again where I made a video of myself and traced it to make the animation. To get the right angle I wanted I had my friend stand over me.

However, since we were only two and this scene has one more character in it, I had to shoot it separately so that I can then have a reference for both characters. With that I managed to add the character in to the first frame and copy paste it to the second frame, and alter as needed.

I repeated this process again to finish this sequence, and pieced them both together. This post only allows one inbed image so from now on it will have links to the videos in question.

Result of two main parts pieced together: https://youtu.be/vI12QwUrOko

The first sound that affects the girl is her partener snoring, so I need to make that more visible. So I added the movement of his breathing, and of his mout falling open as his snores get louder.

result of first addition of breathing movement: https://youtu.be/HBi5ymNlPd8#

I was not very happy with the result as his breathing felt rigid and unatural. I realised it was because of the time between inhale and exhale, which was too short. I added then more time between this by freezing the frame for a few beats and added as well as her expression annoyed by the noise and jerking her away from nearly falling asleep.

video of improved breathing and addition of her reaction here: https://youtu.be/VfFIRw4AAao

Before editing the two sequences in imovie, I noticed that the line art in the second sequence is considerably thicker than the one in the first part, so I tested a frame and made the lineart thicker to see how it would look. While it makes the artstyle more cocnistent, I realised that it disrupted the zoom in that there is in the second sequence, as it makes sense that when you are closer up to the girl the lines are thicker. Overall it is not that significant of a change and it would be very time consuming to implement into every single frame of the first sequence, so I decided that it was not worth the time.

I brought the sequences into imovie, where I can play with the animation I already have and snip parts in order to complete the base animation.

The first thing I did was duplicate the second sequence, and used the the reverse tool in imovie to make the scene be of her taking her hands away from her ears and back into a sleeping position as the noise dies down and she can try to go back to sleep again. Then after this she had to open her eyes again due to a new noise disrupting her attempt at sleep, so she needed to open her eyes again. I just recycled the beginning of the second sequence where she opens her eyes, right before she moves her hands to cover her ears.

Result of new sequence made in imovie: https://youtu.be/WWkRDH9CeSE

At this point there were two main things missing (besides the audio) in order to finish the animation: 1) The very last few frames, where there is a zoom in on her face and she cries because she realises it is morning already. 2) the visual representation of the noise that goes over the base animation.

In order to do these two parts, I downloaded the new sequence and brought it back into procreate so that I could add onto the end of the sequence and also add the visual noise.

The noise was something that I wanted to be represented in an abstract manner, using mainly colour and texture to interrupt the animation beneath. I decided that a simple circle could be base of it, a spot of colour that "taints" and disrupts the neat lineart animation beneath. I chose yellow because it contrasts well with purple, and also because to me it is a colour often associated with light, and while the noise does not come with light, light is often associated with something disruptive to sleep, which made this a great chocie. I started with a simple circle that is born from the source of the sound (in the case of the snoring for example it comes from her partner's snoring, so it is born on his face), and gradually increases and decreases depending on how disruptive the noise is being to our main character. I then tested different textured brushes to erase chips of the circle so it has some texture, and settled on this brush that are dots. I made these new layers at 50% opacity so we can still see what is below, and the opacity can also be turned even further down to show when the noise is fading away/being less disruptive to the girl.

result of adding noise visual in first sequence: https://youtu.be/Od9YdlD_16I

result of adding noise visual to second sequence:

After doing this sequence, I realised that when the pattern within the yellow bubble changes with every frame, it creates a movement that emphasises the idea of noise and disturbance. Because I liked this effect I decided to make it happen on every moment the noise visual appears, so to do this I had to use boiling (drawing the same thing again with slight differences in order to give the idea of a wiggle in the animation) so to make this effect happen. When it was done this was the result and I really liked the effect as it makes the noise nearly like a living thing that takes over the character's environment completely.

With these decisions made concretely, I managed to finish off the animation fully. All that was left was the audio, which I did using Garageband. In it there is a feature where I can upload videos and have them play exactly in time with the video, so that the audio I edit together is in sync with the video.

This is the result of the final audio, and as you can see in the yellow lines which indicate the volume, I played around with them to make them gradually louder and quieter whenevr they needed to. I decided to make the noises that fade off not fully go out, as they usually do not and are still faint in the background, so each sound is adding on each other's noisy-ness.

With the audio done I pieced it all together in imovie, and I realised that as a whole the action in the animation starts too abruptly, and there is not much time for the viewer to process the scene before the action starts. Since I had a few seconds to spare before I reached the limit of 20 seconds, I double the first sequence, and used imovie's tool to freeze the very first frame, so that it allows a few beats of quiet before the disruption of the noise, which adds to the purpose of the action.

[ctntduoarchive]

i have this au where c!tntduo are both rival spies and it goes a little like this

warnings: lots of mentions of guns, shooting and assassinations

so. it starts off with them meeting in a ballroom of sorts. lights, dramatic music and dancing. super formal and stuff, y'know. they've both been sent to assassinate the same person. problem is: wilbur didn't bring a weapon.

so, they're dancing center stage (and the two dramatic bastards are doing twists and turns, while trying to cover up just how bad they are at it) and getting swept up in a long conversation. in a flash, wilbur reaches for the gun, hidden snugly in quackity's inner coat pocket, and goes fuck it and shoots who he came here to get. not very spy like. then, quackity realising the event is already going to shit, he quickly gets the gun back and shoots them a second time to make sure they stay dead.

safe to say, there's a lot of screaming. in the heat of the moment, wilbur reaches for the gun (why not?) and bolts towards the door. quackity tries to chase after him, but loses him in the crowd and remembers he also has to get out.

somehow, they both escape with their heads intact.

and somehow, they meet again.

now, within the crowd of a festival, they push and shove their way through. they've both been sent after the same thing, yet another murder, as each other, once again (how bizarre? what could their organizers possibly want?).

so, inevitably, almost as if destined to, they meet. wilbur's plan to switch off the main electricity switch and quackity's plan to let out the animal enclosure combine, leading everything into chaos. in a rush, quackity leans over to wilbur and snatches his gun back (well, maybe he had brought it in the hopes a certain someone would notice) and hits the mark. as q now runs to get out, wilbur (the petty bastard) runs after him, but suddenly he disappears from sight. he thinks he is gonna miss that gun.

next mission, wilbur isn't on it. instead, tommy, a close associate of his, is sent out. quackity is... fine about this (lying, he brought that one gun with him for a reason. it hadn't even mattered before he met wilbur). he does ask how he is, and tommy gives him some basic responses (he seems like a lovely fella, but he is also wilbur's arch-nemesis and whatever). safe to say, quackity is a little (lot) energetic than last time.

when tommy tells wilbur when he gets back, wilbur says something about them "sharing custody" over the gun (whatever the fuck that means).

turns out all those murders where targeted at a massive corporation that runs deep in their city's politics and leaders. and now they've kidnapped the two people responsible for lots of their employees deaths. after being tied down to chairs and their ropes binding their hands together, wilbur and quackity realise they are going to have to work together to get out of this.

so, they do. they actually make a pretty great duo, both being quick-witted and fast on their feet. and maybe when they're making their great escape, quackity passes his gun to wilbur for him to use (maybe they're more pleased about that then they should be).

maybe it's because they worked together they made it out alive (if it isn't, maybe that doesn't matter to them). even after, they agree to go back to be enemies or rivals or whatever they were, but neither of them agree to never see the other again.

[elysianightsss]

Okay so I’m a fan of Dreamsmp and after watching the new Sad-ist animation, Hog Hunt, I can’t get this situation out of my mind.

Technoblade x reader

Dreamsmp reality.

Your hands shook as you stirred the soup in the pan. Sniffles were the only thing that could be heard, tears falling constantly. The man you loved was dead, you didn’t know how you could possibly go on now. You were staring at the wall for so long you didn’t realise the spoon in your hand had fallen flicking soup everywhere. Your eyes scrunched together and more tears fell as you let out whimpers. Loud sobs that reeked of sorrow.

“Stay here.” He said. His deep voice rumbling through him.

“No Techno, please..” he looked down at you with those big eyes and sigh. “Please don’t go.” You begged.

“I have to. If I don’t they could find you, hurt you. I couldn’t live with myself if anyone hurt you.” He placed both hands on either side of your head and brought his lips to your forehead. Your eyes closed letting the tears that had gathered in your eyes, fall.

“I love you.” You whimpered, clutching his shirt desperately hoping if you held it tighter he’d stay.

“And I, you.” He tilted your head up and kissed you deeply, lovingly. Quickly he left knowing if he took one more look at you he’d burn the world down so he could stay. He had to do this to keep you safe.

Techno fought them with every trick he knew. He was winning until, the man you knew as Quackity had Carl’s reigns in his hand and an axe.

“No Carl.” You had named the horse after the man who had once protected your life with his. Karl Jacobs, he was just a boy and your were just a girl when you met. He saved you from drowning, that was the first and last time you saw him but you wanted to honour him. So you named the injured horse you found Carl and you nursed him back to health with the help of Technoblade. You watched, helpless as Techno dropped his weapons and cloak. The four L’manburgerians ushered both the man and horse you loved into the forest.

You curled into yourself. Pulling your knees to your chest and putting your forehead forward. But a knock on the door made your head shoot up. Frowning you stood up and made your way to the door and opened it.

“Tommy.” He took in your miserable appearance.

“Where’s Techno?” He asked, a look of confusion on his face.

“Tommy.” You cried sadly stepping forward, he took you in his arms and hugged you as you weeped. He had been like a little brother to you. Your heart always broke a little when you thought about how he was exiled from his beloved country and hurt by Dream.

“He...they took him.” You wailed gripping his snow coat with everything you had. Something, anything to ground you. Technoblade was your anchor and now that he’s gone you just felt like you were floating out there, unsafe and alone.

“Darlin?” Your whole body tensed at the sound of his voice. Two hands made themselves known on your body, taking over Tommy’s gently hug and pulling you into a new, bone crushing one.

“Techno.” You whispered clinging to him. You didn’t even have to see his face. The smell of him, the sound of his voice was enough.

“It’s okay. I’m here.” He replied with a gentle tone. He held you with everything he had. Cradling your head with such care.

“Well this is awkward.” Tommy chuckled making you giggle into Techno’s chest.

“Give me a minute Tommy. I’ll be back.” Techno said to his nephew and pulled you up with him. Escorting you into your house and upstairs. He held you close to him, not letting go even as he sat both of you down on your shared bed.

“I thought I lost you. I was so scared.” You told him quietly.

“I made you a promise once didn’t I? Remember what that was?” He asked tilting your chin up to look at him.

“You’ll never leave me as long as you breath.” You remember it perfectly. It was the night you’d vowed to be with each other til death do you part.

“I love you more than words can explain.” He muttered taking your breath away with a searing kiss. Everything was there, love, lust, passion, care. That’s what you loved most about Techno. He didn’t even need to say he loved you for you to know that he did. He just needed to kiss you.

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Divination Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 占卜之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ Released on 16 September 2021 ]

MC: Gavin, I’ve been way too unlucky recently! I fell down while riding a bicycle, the water supply was cut halfway during a shower, and last week, three flights were delayed by more than two hours within the span of three days... Sob sob, life is so difficult...

It’s a Saturday, and Gavin has come over to my house to kill time as usual. The moment we meet, I can’t help but wail about how I painstakingly got through the week. 

As though he’s comforting a small animal, his palm gently covers the top my head.

Gavin: You’ve already told me these things.

He pulls me over to sit on the sofa, then leans over to look at my knee. Knowing his intentions and feeling afraid that he’s genuinely worried, I hurriedly wave my hands.

MC: Actually, it wasn’t a serious fall, and my skin didn’t tear. There were a few red cuts, but they're gone now.

Even after confirming the veracity of what I said, Gavin doesn’t straighten up. His fingers rub my knee, conveying his belated consolation.

After a while, he rests an arm on the sofa while turning his head towards me.

Gavin: Want to drink milk tea or eat cake? Didn’t you say that with these two things, even the worst of moods can be turned into the clearest of skies?

With this reminder, a location instantly flashes past my mind.

MC: Let’s drink coffee!

I reach for my phone on the coffee table. Tapping on my saved searches, I show Gavin a shop.

MC: This one - Witch Café. The name’s a little outdated, but it’s really popular recently. I’ve seen many people checking in on Moments. 

MC: The manager of this shop knows divination, and the reviews mentioned that she’s really accurate... 

MC: Also, if the results from the divination aren’t that great, she could help turn my fortune around. 

MC: The shop sells lots of objects used for changing one’s fortune, such as crystal rings and bracelets. 

MC: I think what I need most right now, aside from you... would be a change of fortune!

Gavin bursts into a laugh, then lifts his head to look at me.

Gavin: It’s my fault for not learning divination to change your fortune for the better. Otherwise, you’d only need me.

Gavin’s quick wit causes me to do a thumbs-up.

MC: Wow. Your logic... makes a little bit of sense.

He scrolls down my phone screen, taking a casual look at the café’s introduction.

Gavin: Mm, it looks really interesting and isn’t very far.

MC: It’s really nearby. It’s only a few kilometres away, and there definitely won’t be a traffic jam at his hour. But it’s the weekend, so I’m not sure if we’d need to queue.

Gavin takes my phone from my hand, then pushes me on the back gently.

Gavin: Get changed. I’ll give them a call to make a reservation.

I immediately get up, giving him a deliberately formal bow.

MC: Understood.

-

The internet-famous café is even more popular than I imagined. Although it isn’t time for afternoon tea yet, the shop is already fully packed.

Fortunately, we’re seated in a relatively quiet corner next to the window. However, we can still hear a few ladies from the neighbouring table fervently discussing the results of their divination.

I tug on Gavin’s sleeve from across the table.

MC: Gavin, you’ve never believed in such things, have you?

Gavin: Divination?

Gavin nods frankly, then suddenly chuckles.

Gavin: I initially wanted to say that I didn’t believe it. But I suddenly remembered that an Evolver who can predict the future is sitting right in front of me.

MC: ...that’s true?!

Realising this, I sink into a deep contemplation. Gavin reaches out to scratch the tip of my nose.

Gavin: I meant that as a joke. It’s impossible to meet a second Evolver with a precognition ability.

I glare at Gavin angrily. He shifts his gaze, looking at the manager who is currently talking to patrons.

Gavin: But she is an Evolver.

MC: Really? 

I turn my head to look. The manager is wearing a black apron, and she’s bending down as she patiently explains the divination symbol to a patron, her smile warm and amiable.

She exudes an aura which makes whatever she says very believable.

Just as my anticipation is hooked, Gavin stifles it with his words.

Gavin: But it definitely isn’t related to precognition.

MC: I see...

When Gavin sees that my anticipation has dampened, he pushes a blueberry cake in front of me.

Gavin: Don’t feel disappointed yet. Divination has never needed to rely on Evol. You’ll know if it’s accurate after giving it a try.

He digs a small piece of cake with a spoon, then brings it over to me. Munching on it, my eyes widen as I look at him.

MC: Incredibly! Delicious!

The cake exceeded my expectations. Thinking that the coffee might be pretty good too, I quickly lift the cup of coffee from the table.

In the meantime, Gavin picks up the explanatory card the manager had just brought over, and starts reading from it.

Gavin: It says that once you’ve finished drinking the coffee, you have to press the bell to call for the manager. The manager will obtain the divination results after observing the shape of the coffee sediments. 

Gavin: Before the divination, you could think of the contents of the divination first.

Gavin: If you have a ring or another token, you could prepare it beforehand. Place it at the bottom of the cup afterwards to increase the effectiveness.

After reading this, he rests his chin against his hand while chuckling softly.

Gavin: It’s almost the same as the tarot cards we tried the last time.

I take the explanatory card from him. Opening it up, I give it a sweeping glance.

MC: ...so it’s tasseography. I did research on it when we were playing with tarot cards the last time. Afterwards, I realised how complicated it is to interpret the divination results, so I gave up on learning it.

Finishing the rest of the coffee in one gulp, I press the copper bell at the corner of the table.

Upon hearing the bell, the manager looks up and shoots me a smile while washing a coffee cup. After wiping her hands, she walks over to us.

Manager: Are the both of you done with your coffee?

Seeing me nod in anticipation, she picks up the serving tray on the table, placing it next to the coffee cup.

Manager: May I know how I should address you?

MC: MC.

Manager: MC, lift the coffee cup and sway it gently while contemplating on your divination question. Once you’re done, place the cup upside down onto the tray.

I follow her instructions.

After a short while, she uncovers the cup, displaying the shape of the coffee sediments inside it.

Manager: Based on the results, you seem to have been going through a rough time lately, and your mood hasn’t been great. Is this correct?

MC: !!!

I immediately look at Gavin, thinking that this is far too accurate.

The manager seems to detect an affirmation from my expression. She sets down the coffee cup, then retrieves two wrapped chocolate cookies from her apron.

Manager: I made them this afternoon, and they’re for you. Based on the shape of the coffee sediments, although you might have experienced some rough moments recently, all the unhappy moments have already passed. Over the next few days, you’ll receive good news in succession, and you’ll be happier.

While saying this, she leans over, her slightly curled hair exuding a floral fragrance which refreshes the soul, causing me to be left in a mild daze.

Gavin suddenly speaks up.

Gavin: You’re using Evol.

The manager pauses in fright. For a moment, she’s at a loss, and has no choice but to bow slightly with her hands by her side.

Manager: I’m sorry, have I offended the both of you?

Seeing her frantic expression, I hurriedly shake my head.

MC: I-it’s fine... we don’t discriminate against Evolvers. And I’m sure you didn’t have malicious intentions.

The manager’s shoulders slump in resignation, admitting her “little magic” to us candidly.

Manager: ...I just wanted to send a flower into your memories.

MC: Send a flower?

Seeing that I didn’t understand what she meant, she explains patently.

Manager: Sorry, that’s a phrase I use in the shop.

Manager: Through tasseography, I can truly tell that you haven’t been in a good mood recently. But it’s very difficult to change your future fortune. 

Manager: In order to lift the spirits of patrons who do divinations, I use my Evol to alter their memories slightly.

Manager: However, my Evol has its limits. The only thing I can do is add something small that’s worthwhile of happiness into their unhappy memories, such as a flower. 

Manager: Are you willing to give it a try?

Considering how frank she is, I can’t find a reason to refuse. Furthermore, no incidents will occur with Gavin around.

MC: Mm...

The manager’s hand gently glides across me. Although I feel as though nothing happened, she signals that she’s done. Gavin stares at me curiously.

Gavin: Are there any changes to your memories?

I inexplicably recall the time when I fell off the bicycle, and images beginning from the moment I fell surface in my mind -

The path in front of me is tilted, and I can’t control my plummet towards my left side. 

These images are exactly the same as what actually happened, but in the very last snippet -

In an unremarkable corner of the crosswalk, a blue wild flower sways along with the breeze.

MC: A flower? There’s really a flower!

For some reason, seeing this flower enveloped in sunlight causes my emotions to become much more composed, reducing the annoyance I felt about the fall.

The manager releases a joyful sigh, then continues her soft explanation on why she does such things.

Manager: People often have a deep impression of negative things, while happy moments are fleeting. Unhappy memories linger much longer in memories.

Manager: So I thought - if I could add an element of happiness into the unhappy memories of patrons, such as a flower, or a ray of sunlight...

Manager: Their unhappy memories may become a little brighter. On a subconscious level, their mood would naturally become better.

Manager: With a good mood to lift them up, they’d focus on the positive aspect of things the next time they face something else. That’s why they’d find that their fortunes have truly turned for the better.

After saying this, the manager looks at the both of us before apologising again softly.

Manager: Even though I use Evol on patrons, I don’t have malicious intentions. Could you be magnanimous and not report me?

I toss a glance at Gavin, hoping that the Captain would close an eye this time.

After pondering for a moment, Gavin nods calmly at the manager.

Gavin: I won’t report you, but don’t use Evol on patrons in the future.

He looks at me from the side, then reaches out to grab a tissue before wiping it gently against the corner of my lips. Lowering my head, I spot blueberry coloured cream on the white tissue.

Gavin: I believe that your coffee and snacks are enough to bring patrons happiness.

The manager grabs my hand in relief, thanking me repeatedly.

Manager: Thank you both for liking my coffee and cakes. I’ll give another present to the both of you.

-

By the time we leave the café, it’s still early. Gavin and I aren’t in a hurry to go back. Holding hands, we take a stroll beneath the shade of trees.

We can’t help but bring up what happened in the café earlier.

MC: It turns out that it’s so simple to change one’s mood. Adding an element of happiness into unhappy memories is enough.

Surrounded by the chirping of cicadas, even Gavin’s voice reveals a refreshing and carefree touch of summer.

Seeing his slightly sweat-damped fringe sticking to his temples, I retrieve a tissue from my bag and wipe it for him.

Gavin: I remember that you once mentioned that the secret to maintaining a happy life is to focus on the positive side of things.

While saying this, Gavin takes the tissue in my hand and stores it into his own pocket.  

MC: Mm, that’s right! Actually, such forms of self comfort are pretty effective. 

MC: Even though I fell while riding a bike, I told myself that it was fortunate that it wasn’t anything more than a fall. 

MC: When the water supply was cut while I was showering, it only happened because I didn’t pay attention to the announcement by the property management... 

MC: I’d just learn from this experience and check the announcement board more often. 

MC: Also, the flights were delayed due to torrential rain. It was an objective reason, and nobody could have expected it.

MC: A lady from the airline company even gave me orange juice and a small gift.

Gavin chuckles leisurely, meeting my gaze from the corner of his eyes.

Gavin: Many things may not have happened according to how you wished over the short span of a week. Immersing yourself in the state of mind that everything wouldn’t go smoothly made you forget to look at the positive side of everything.

MC: Mm, but I can’t help it... Maintaining an optimistic outlook is really difficult. It’s inevitable to feel discouraged.

While saying this, I tighten my grip on his hand.

MC: But now, I know that if I face any unhappy moments in the future, I just have to search for a flower.

Gavin stops in his footsteps, lowering his eyes and giving me a smile.

Gavin: Have you thought of a new method to cheer yourself up?

I release a matter-of-fact “mm”. Pulling his collar, I give him a gentle peck on the chin.

MC: Whenever I face an unlucky incident, all I have to do is tell you immediately, and I’d immediately be comforted by you... 

MC: That way, I’d no longer be unhappy.

Gavin is taken aback momentarily. Then, he smiles faintly while looking at me.

MC: Whether it’s a fall or a delayed flight... The moment I share these things with you, the moodiness in my heart vanishes like smoke. The reason why I specially complained to you today was just to play coy.

I draw closer to him, swinging our interlaced hands.

MC: In the café earlier, I didn’t take the crystal bracelet she offered to change my fortune for the better... 

MC: I already have a bracelet which can bring me the greatest luck in the world.

I lower my head. Fragments of sunlight fall onto the ginkgo bracelet, refracting resplendent and exquisite faint light.

MC: This ginkgo leaf makes me happier than any other flower. No matter when, simply looking at it lifts my mood instantly.

Gavin doesn't release my hand. Instead, he pulls my hand to his back, bringing me into his arms gently.

The verdant trees and chirping of cicadas intertwine. The clean fragrance of shower gel from the side of his neck causes me to wrap my arms around him tightly.

Gavin: I knew that you were playing coy. Trivial matters have never influenced your mood. You’re always very good at comforting yourself and seeing the positive side of everything. But the bracelet alone isn’t enough. The next time you come looking for me, I’ll definitely do something that’d make you even happier.

After saying this, he can’t help but release a resigned chuckle.

Gavin: ...even though I haven’t thought of what I’d do.

I burst into a chuckle, then bury my head into his embrace completely.

Gavin: But there will definitely be things that I can do to add an element of happiness into your unhappy memories.

Dense green hues and shadows fall on his shoulders. Lifting my head, I see faint light riding the wind through crevices of large clouds in the faraway sky.

Leisurely and carefree ants pass by the slabstone road, winding around a fallen green leaf, and I can’t tell if they’re taking a stroll or scavenging for food.

Summer is flourishing, and this moment is incomparably tranquil.

My heart is filled to the brim with contentedness and happiness. Even my tone is relaxed and at ease.

MC: Gavin, you have to promise me one thing. If you’re unhappy about something in the future, you have to tell me about it immediately, okay? I can add many, many elements of happiness into your memories so that you wouldn’t even have half a second of unhappiness. I can guarantee that.

I lift my head to look at Gavin. With our close proximity, I can see his amber eyes reflecting large swathes of lush branches and leaves belonging exclusively to midsummer.

The gentleness flowing from these eyes aren’t stingy at all as they land on my face.

MC: We have to be the ever-fresh and blooming flowers in each of our memories, forever swaying in the wind.

Gavin releases a soft “okay”. He rests his chin on my shoulder, tightening his grip around my waist.

He murmurs at my ear.

Gavin: There’s no need for a guarantee. Your existence has always been the most brightly-coloured flower in my memories.

[ MOMENTS ]

Gavin’s Post: Different flavours of sodas seem to be really popular this summer.

MC: In order to clear the existing stock in the fridge, it’s time to have supper!

Gavin: Pick between mala crayfish and barbecue?

-

Gavin’s Post: Different flavours of sodas seem to be really popular this summer.

MC: Soda is always the best!

Gavin: Although that’s true, it’s best to drink fewer cold beverages.

-

Gavin’s Post: Different flavours of sodas seem to be really popular this summer.

MC: Pick between white peach and tangerine!

Gavin: I’ll pick the one you like less.

☕ Call: here

☕ Support the café (not the one mentioned in the date) by dropping by the tip jar!

[rumblelibrary]

I was listening to Dust to Dust by The Civil Wars and it came to my mind that this song would be a great source of inspiration for a headcanon for Modern!Laszlo Kreizler. What do you think?

What me? Crying my eyes out??? How did you know?

The night was happy and light, the chorus of laughter that bursted around him made his lips twitch instinctively into a tensed smile.

A sense of emptiness pervading him, a sense of loss even though in the happiest of times: the case was solved, the disappeared child was back.

The joyous parents kissing those puffy cheeks, Sara sipping her wine and darting engaging looks at John. Laszlo scratched his cheek lightly as he observed them, he didn’t need all those degrees to see what was bare in front of his eyes. His soft scratching was a mix between a show of tension and a reassurance to himself.

After all that running around, fear of finding the corpse of a child, after all that begging and researching and striving.

Then why happiness didn’t hit him? Why there was no relief?

He knew the truth, but the reality of things was that he wasn’t ready to admit it.

“Already going away?” John asked him as he picked up his coat from the chair where he abandoned it.

“Yes, I have an early round of appointments tomorrow”

“We couldn’t have done it without your insight” John insisted. To celebrate in the conference room of the police station just showed how much the happy ending of such a potential tragedy struck everyone.

Laszlo’s eyes darted slowly over the happy family in the corner, the father holding the baby daughter kissing her cheeks as the mother kept a steady hand on her small back, her smile was everything that a sight should be graced of: fullness, undivided love and tenderness.

“I know” Laszlo said only making John huff and chuckle joking that he is humble as always. Laszlo only smiled holding the coat under his arm as he gave him a nod and left.

Only once he was out he realised he came in John’s car, so he resumed to walk his way home, he needed some fresh air.

He never regretted his divorce, he was dragging a dead horse. His ex wife hated the guts of him and he never realised how much he didn’t trust her until the time to get parted came. Until he saw how many times he closed, how many times he felt that she was there to hurt him and, ultimately, she did when the right time came.

He brought it upon himself, that’s what he kept saying.

He tried, but not hard enough, he offered his heart but her pain was so vivid back then that he wondered did he ever gave it all? Or maybe he just believed it, he believed to have done it.

The happy smile of the woman that just had her baby back kept hunting him, the unfiltered happiness they felt caused him a primal form of envy that he refused to acknowledge to himself.

The soft tug on his back woke him from his trail of thoughts. Hand pulling his shirt shooting him back to reality.

A lone man walking home with the damn expensive watch he wore, any other person would have been worried.

And yet, when he turned around and saw you he was the worried one, like you just pointed a gun at him. He opened his mouth lightly but didn’t speak up.

“John told me you left, I hoped to catch up on you”

The way you spoke, the way you smiled, the little huffing in your breath showing you run after him. This is so wrong. He kept telling himself.

He just, he didn’t deserve this, the way you looked at him.

You’re just good at crushing anyone else Laszlo.

The words of his ex engraved onto his mind more than he would ever admit.

“I was just going home”

“Are you close?”

“Yes”

You looked at him with a soft sigh veiled by a smile, like you were dealing with some stubborn child.

“May I walk with you?”

“If you like”

“I do”

He titled his head down looking up at your frame, the way you looked at him teasing something inside him, something that was scratching, a loud white noise in the back of his head that you made audible.

He moved on side as you positioned yourself on his right.

You didn’t speak as you just walked with him, he didn’t talk either.

A shiver run through him, a sense of nervousness pervading him as his street got nearer after every step.

“You should go home, I mean, it is already late, I could call you a taxi”

“Do you really want to get rid of me, don’t you?”

He didn’t answer, because the answer was yes.

He needed to keep you far from him, since he met you your presence was both joy and pain to his eyes.

You sparked a new light, you opened his mind, got his interest. Hearing you talk, watching you move, even the smallest quirks and the little pet peeves of you. Everything was entertaining to him. He felt this need, the need to get under your skin, both mentally and physically. He wondered how it is to blend against your body, to kiss your lips, to taste your tears and your skin. He wondered if you cry while watching sad films, if you have childhood fears, if you talk in your sleep. He wondered if you ever found him attractive, if you’d refrain from his touch, if your kisses begin slow or passionate.

The truth was that he was the one not ready for you, he was the one afraid to let you touch him, to be bare with someone once again.

“I live here” He said noticing the apartments building standing on his left.

You looked up at it and smirked as it was an old building, one of those that survived after hundreds of restyling and it ket this old beginning of 1900 kind of feeling.

“Can I come in?”

“You’re shameless” he said as he indeed was admiring your persistence.

“Also that”

He looked at you for a moment, you didn’t blink away, not even for a second.

Just leave, please, just go away, stay with me, no go, better if you go.

He kept debating inside himself as you waited silently.

“I can’t do this”

You leaned your head on side at his words, you waited for him to explain himself.

“This thing, I mean, I can’t really get anyone in my apartment, alright? It is still a work in progress”

“You have done fooling me around with your excuses Laszlo” you said to him “you can’t take decisions for me and you won’t”

“I am not good at this, I will just hurt you, I am good at the beginnings but I just fail with time, I get sloppy, I won’t be a good choice on the long run”

“Laszlo” you interrupted his rambling as he stared at you. His eyes were begging you, begging you not to force him into this.

“Stop it now” you took a step forward as the space between you two closed abruptly, he felt the warmth radiating from you, the way your eyes shone for him, a sense of being lost and found taking over him, the unreasonable fear of something happening at that ungodly hour, like the building falling, anything, something that will ruin this moment.

“Aren’t you tired?”

You asked it so simply and yet he felt like he was the child that got lost in the night and was now being found again.

He parted his lips, eyes erratically escaping yours as he looked for any word, any excuse, any reason.

“Terribly”

He just said it as your hand gently raised, it was a slow movement like you were about to touch some frightened animal.

His eyes were fixed onto yours as your fingertips traced his cheek and up his temple. Your hand was a little cold against his skin, yet warm into your intentions. He leaned forward slowly pressing his forehead against yours.

“I can’t do this to you”

You smiled as your hand gently moved down his neck giving him a soft caress.

“You have been lonely for too long” you whispered.

He opened his eyes slowly, dark lids blinking into yours as his jaw tightened, a little redness forming as he tried to conceal the emotions running through him.

“Don’t let me hurt you”

“You won’t”

“I will”

“Then I’ll be there” you just said “I’ll be there for you, for us”

He shivered closing the space between the two of you with a sealing kiss, the push that got through him, like his whole body rebelled his mind, made him crush you against the heavy bricks of the entrance.

You could almost sense the immediate regret he felt, but you tugged him in, you pulled him closer as your lips sweetened the kiss from its initial desperation.

There was no pain in what it was about to begin and you wanted him to feel it.

You had no fear, no fear of the empty dark spaces of his mind, of the loneliness of his soul or the searing pain of his past.

You watched him consume himself for too long.

The time of excuses was over, and as your hands cupped his cheeks and whispered softly to him he could almost feel the abrupt silence of his mind after the loud noise of you tearing down his first defence wall fainted into that kiss.

Tagged @cazzyimagines @lieutenantn @handmaiden-of-mischief @thesunflowersutra @zemomybeloved @fictionlandslanddreams@charistory @greeneyedblondie44 @apparrio @hb8301 @whatawildone @rhymerhymerhyme  @thehuiabird @lilith-blackrose @unbeatablecurlgirl @obsidianlaszlo @alindeluce @zemosimp05 @baronesszemo-blackwood @nocapesdahling @everythingbeginsineternity-blog @archangelproperty

[wdwmarveldisney]

Monster

Pack x fem!reader and slight Stiles x reader

Summary: Reader loses control of her powers during a panic attack and ends up accidentally barely hurting Stiles. She ends up seeing Stiles and Scott when being chased by the company she had escaped from.

Masterlist

A/N: So the reader has a mix of powers like Eleven and Wanda. I’m a massive Marvel fan and I just finished season one of Stranger Things and was in the mood to right so here you go. I’ll probably write one for marvel too.

Shouting.

Just breathe.

Screaming.

Just breathe. Just breathe. It would be okay, you'd be okay. Your nails dug into your palms piercing the skin but you were numb. You were trapped, as if you sat in the corner of a dark damp room as you curled into a ball and held back tears. It was like someone had thrown you into this dark, terrifying place and twisted the lock shut and no matter how loud you screamed or how hard you banged at the door, nobody came. Your breathing was uneven and your vision was blurring. The small, deep gasps of your breath sounded as if you were about to pass out. Your eyes were filled with such nervousness and almost fear that anybody who made eye contact would surely be greatly concerned for you. But nobody would make eye contact with you because they were too busy arguing. Shouting.

"She's dangerous! You saw what she did to the guy back there! She killed him Stiles!"

You didn't mean to, you didn't mean it. You thought back to everything, training and discipline and the rules, the punishments. The small cupboard where you were trapped whenever you'd mess up, the killing animals, the focusing your powers to stop people's hearts, snap their bones, empty their lungs. You didn't mean to kill him but he knew. He knew everything about how you were raised, what you had done, what you were forced to do. He knew the people you hurt, you killed. He was taunting you, messing with you. It had built up, like it was now, and a switch was flipped. You eyes glowed purple and suddenly his neck had snapped. But you didn't mean to.

"It was protection Scott! He was trying to kill her!"

"Stop it," you whispered, voice shaking but they couldn't hear you. Everything seemed to close in, slowly depriving the room of oxygen. You felt as if the four white walls were dragging themselves forward and surrounding you to the point were your body ached from the pressure of having to squeeze yourself close. You was quick to bury your face between your knees to try and drown out any colour, any shadows, any movement, any shout. "Stop, stop it. Please stop," You sobbed, shaking as you rocked slightly on the couch, the blood from your palms staining the knees of your jeans. You looked up, eyes flickering purple every now and then as they continued to shout.

"She murdered someone!"

"It was self defence!"

"He said she'd killed before, that she kill again! She can't be trusted!" Scott was right. You couldn't be trusted. You were dangerous and out of control and you were a monster. And now you were tearing apart the pack unintentionally. "Stop it, please, stop," You noticed Lydia look to you along with Kira and Liam. They seemed to know just how on edge you were, worry but also hesitance etched on their faces.

"We don't know that, we don't know who that guy was!" Stiles shouted and you shot up, hands faintly glowing the same shade of purple as your eyes. Tear marks stained your cheeks and your whole body shook in fear as the power coursed through your veins. Stiles and Scott still didn't notice, too engrossed in the argument to spare a glance. The rest of the pack, however, noticed. They backed up, trying to subtly get the boys' attention. But that didn't happen, they didn't stop. "Stiles, face the facts-"

"STOP!" You voice was distorted, hair flying back in the blast. A wave of purple mist hit the group, all of them stumbling back and a couple even falling over. Windows smashed, walls cracked, shelves tumbled, belongings falling everywhere. You fell, collapsing to the floor from where you had been floating inches off the ground. You shook slightly, looking round at the scared teenagers as you eyes flickered again. You breathing became uneven once more, a knot tightening and n your chest when you saw the blood dripping from Stiles' nose. With a sharp intake of breath, you fell back against the sofa and stared at your shaking hands in fear. You'd hurt him, how could you do that.

You couldn't be trusted.

You were hurting people.

Murderer. Monster.

"I'm sorry, I didn't- I don't- hurt you, I'm sorry," you stood slowly, watching them flinch in fear as you looked at them all. Stiles seemed to be the only one who wasn't terrified, quickly getting up and carefully walking towards you. "Hey, I'm fine. See," He wiped the blood from his nose only for more to fall. He went to take another step forward but you shook your head, backing away towards the door, "Don't. I didn't- please don't. I'm- monster, I'm sorry," the door had flung open, the purple mist from your hands, and now at the door, fading away as you stumbled out. You managed to get down the steps and onto the pavement when you heard the calls of your name from all of them. Knowing they were following, you spun round with your hands held out. The mist not only surrounded your fingertips but had made a small wall between you and them. One hand stayed aimed towards them whilst you looked around for some kind of car or transport and with a wave of your hand, a bike had flown over to you. Looking back to them, your eyes met Stiles' as you spoke, "Don't,"

Your hand fell as the wall disappeared and you wiped your bleeding nose as you hopped on the bike, starting down the road shakily.

-

Run. You just had to run. Either you run or they get you and you were not going to let them get you. In hindsight, running in the forest barefoot with your ripped and ragged clothes wasn't a good idea. You could feel twigs and thorns pierce your skin but you didn't stop. You cringed every time a leave crunched or a stick snapped but you didn't stop. You could hear their shouts in the distance and with one last quick glance over your shoulder, you saw the flash of a gun and sped up.

Reaching a road, you let the panic settle in as you watched them catch up. About to continue down the road, you heard the blue jeep before you saw it. Scott had opened the passenger door and heard to the back as he called for you, "Get in!" Looking at the guns that were aimed at not only you but the jeep too, you shook your head. Stiles got out of the jeep and began to make his way over to you, Scott just behind him. "Come on, we'll get shot!" Shaking your head again, you watched the soldiers surround you before watching one man step forward ever so slightly, Dr Smith. "Test subject 095, come in and these boys won't get harmed," you glared at him, eyes glowing purple as you got into more of a fighting stance. "Liar,"

He took another step forward, hand by the gun he had at his waist, "Come back peacefully, that's all we ask. I'm going to make you better again, you're sick," You didn't dare look to the boys next to you instead focusing on the approaching van they'd no doubt take you away in. You watched two more soldiers leave it and let the power freely surge through your veins. "Liar!" You screamed, hands moving fast as the soldiers' eyes flashed purple and they aimed their guns to the doctor now. He held his hands up in surrender as you marched forward. "Don't shoot me, I'm the only one who can make you better," With a shaky breath, you leaned forward and being able to see your glowing eyes reflected back to you didn't faze you. "Mercy," you growled, waving your hand to make the soldiers snap out of it and willingly leave. You knew none of them were in control when working for the company, all being forced to work there. You'd have to help at times, keep them under control that is.

The doctor's hand dropped and you waved your hand to cuff his hands. Nose scrunching at the feeling of the fear in your veins, you pushed it down to pick up a gun and press it against the man's back to force him into the van. You watched as he reached for his pocket as pull out the syringe and with a heavy sigh, you dropped the gun and took a couple of steps back, "No," You brought your hands up and watched as you lifted the van, making it fall onto his legs after tripping him up. He screamed as you turned, feeling the blood drip from your nose and ears, coming face to face with a shocked Stiles and Scott. "That was...awesome!"

You smiled sheepishly almost at Stiles' comment, glancing to a grinning Scott. The werewolf's expression fell as he met your eyes, "I'm sorry, I didn't realise and I was wrong. Can we be friends?" You nodded quickly, a grin taking over your face as you rushed over to the jeep, jumping into the back. Both boys climbed in too, watching as you moved your hands over your scratched feet and legs, the skin sewing itself together it seemed. You then reached up to wipe the blood from your nose on your already red stained wrist but Stiles passed you back a tissue with a quick worried smile. Nodding in thanks, you wiped your nose then you wiped the blood from your ears, glancing down to your ruined clothing. The jeep started up and you remained silent as you fiddled with your fingers.

"Sorry," you mumbled slightly and saw both boys look to you. Scott sighed and shook his head, "No, it was our fault," due to a pointed look from Stiles, Scott changed his words which made you smile, "My fault. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions and I'm sorry," you nodded in understanding before leaning forward to speak to Stiles, "I hurt you, sorry," the boy shook his head, sending you a gentle smile. You worried he wasn't going to accept your apology but he chuckled slightly, glancing to you, "I'm fine," he looked to your lips and with a small shrug, lent forward to peck them making you both grin like mad. Clearing your throat, you ignored the blush in your cheeks as you watched him smile widely as he faced the road. "Promise?"

"Promise,"

[wizkiddx]

unusable faces

i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)

PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker​ --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link

Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader

^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)

A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA. 

To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:

Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.

Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning

Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set

The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.

Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.  

The joys of success hey?

Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.

“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently

“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave. 

“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.

“You mean laugh at us?” 

“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.

Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.

“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.

“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable. 

“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed. 

“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend. 

“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.

“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially. 

“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid;  when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be. 

“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.

“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”

After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.

At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that. 

Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks. 

“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)

Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras. 

So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man. 

“You good?” His answer was predictable. 

“I’m so fucking shattered”

Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.

“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”

Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands. 

Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other. 

So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end. 

Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.

“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything. 

So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.

“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”

“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away. 

Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.

The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph. 

“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.

For fear of getting hurt. 

So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his. 

“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing. 

The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.

“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.

“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”

“Yeh me… me too”

And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.

What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.

It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.

Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.

Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else. 

So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep. 

[kiyoominous]

test drive (miya atsumu)

synopsis: miya atsumu, despite popular belief, is enamoured by long-term relationships. it just sucks that his girlfriend doesn't and all you can do is just watch everything around him burn.

pairing: miya atsumu/reader

warnings: mentions of a toxic relationship

genre: fluff, angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort

cross posted to ao3!! 

Atsumu loves his girlfriend. So much. He loves the way her fingers curl around his, the warmth of her smile, the taste of her lips. Osamu jokingly says that he's so in love that it's sickening. But somewhere deep inside him, he knows that her charm is just a wall that's bound to tip over.

He's seen the way she stares at him. Her eyes are always half-lidded, as if she only wants him for pleasure. After back to back nights with entangled legs and heaving bodies, he starts to think that maybe it's true.

He's seen the way she sits with his friends. Once he brought her to an Inarizaki VBC reunion dinner and she didn't laugh once. Not at Suna's jokes, not at Aran's quips, not even at him. She smiled sweetly at them but he could see the poison dripping from her features. When they left, she was all over him and told him how much fun she had and he forgot that she ever made that face.

He's seen the way she steals his time from him. When was the last time he hung out with any of his friends on his lonesome? He couldn't tell you. If he isn't doing volleyball related things, he always finds her clinging onto his arm or hovering over him or squirming underneath him.

Atsumu knows that these are red flags that are practically flapping around right in front of him but he stays unsure. What if he's overthinking it? Maybe this is normal. Maybe this is the compromise that he needed to practice in relationships. Besides, she's so beautiful, so intelligent, so radiant. He doesn't want to lose her over such minor details, he loves her too much.

What is love truely like anyway?

He knows he loves Osamu, volleyball, his friends. But that's different, right? At this point, the differences are arbitrary because he feels love is not the relationship that he's drowning in now. He loves her and she loves him but every time she's around, he can't breathe. It's not the good kind of breathlessness either. Atsumu feels like he's being held down. He doesn't like it but he figures that maybe her demanding nature could whip him into shape or something.

After all, the last time he told her that he felt insecure about her love, she proclaimed that he wasn't allowed to feel like that ever again because it made her feel doubtful too.

In amongst the whirlwinds in his mind, he always finds himself trailing back to you. You, the childhood friend who played pretend with him and Osamu every day after school. You, his personal tutor when exams were creeping up on him. You, the person who made his heart feel so full and happy.

Perhaps you were love personified. But he'll never know anything of you, of your love, of maybe his love for you. He doesn't even remember the last time he spoke to you. It's a good thing that you do.

It was right before he was swept up from his feet by infatuation. He used to talk your ear off about her all the time, until he didn't. You met her once too, being met with the same poisonous smile. With every passing day, he notified you of at least one thing that she did that day and it became painfully obvious that she wasn't in it for his whole. Each fragment was minor on its own but piling it all together painted a big red flag. You hated it.

His incessant texting became more infrequent and suddenly, he wasn't talking to you anymore. Every time you messaged him, you were met with radio silence. Not even the hostile kind, just one full of emptiness and nothing. If you have to be honest, you miss it. The 'good morning' texts, the pictures he sent whenever he met up with Osamu, the secrets you two would whisper in the dead of the night.

You miss Atsumu.

So you message his twin brother, your other childhood friend that you haven't lost yet.

To: samu

how's atsumu, by the way?

kinda miss him :(

From: samu

you miss him?? D:

jks, i miss him too

his girlfriend broke up with him a week ago so not very well

You will never admit it but you love him so dearly. How could you not, he's a shooting star that burns so brightly that the image of him is engrained in your retinas. An explosion of personality, you had once kindly put it. You only registered that you felt such a poignant emotion for him when it was too late, when he had set his eyes on the girl that just shattered him into pieces.

Nothing could ever compare to the pang in your chest when you realise that he isn't and wasn't being loved the way that he should be.

Atsumu's lost all that he loves and all you can do is watch. No reaching out, no late night drives to his place for a cry, no laughter filling his empty apartment. He's drifted away and it's gonna take a miracle for either of you to float back to each other.

But then again, you can make that miracle happen, right?

And you do while standing at his front door, shivering in the November cold. You knock once and the door immediately flies open, revealing a snotty-nosed Atsumu. You'd laugh at the sight but sorrow washes over you too quickly. His eyes widen like saucers as he chaperones you into his one-bedroom apartment.

It's not long before you're both hunched over in laughter, anger and misery all in the same breath.

"She said that she jus' wanted to test me out. What am I, a second hand Honda Civic?" he practically spits.

"Personally, I think you're more of a Mercedes kind of guy." you reply in jest. Atsumu smiles warmly for a moment before he gives you a look of mock betrayal. The warmth spreading through his chest reminds him that he missed all of this, all of you. He hopes you don't catch him getting all soft and sappy.

"Mercedes, huh? I'm not good enough to be a Ferrari?" you can only giggle back at him.

The conversation dips into silence for a moment and you feel the weight of it draped over you like a blanket. A stupidly heavy blanket. Atsumu thankfully opens his mouth to speak.

"Thanks for comin' over, I wasn't expectin' ya to after..."

"I know. In any other circumstance, I would've had every right to be mad so it helps that I'm not a jerk."

"Shut yer trap."

"Love you too." Somehow, the words held a bit too much love in them when you let them slip from your lips.

With that, Atsumu decides that he wants to watch Finding Nemo — apparently the 'best animated film of all time' — with you in tow. Who are you to say no to his innocent request?

The glow of the flat screen fills the once dark and empty apartment. The blonde finds that he's not paying as much attention to the animated fish on screen as he usually does. Nemo's not as interesting as you are, he muses. Unlike him, your eyes are fixed to the aquatic story in front of you, legs tucked under crossed arms. 

As he periodically steals glances at you, he thinks that after he heals from this mess, after he becomes more whole, he'll come to you. No matter how long it takes for him to get over his former lover, you’ll be the one he’ll aim for. You burn way brighter than she did anyway.