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imaprettygirl · 7 months ago

Text

A drop of ink, a blot spread across time

(Vintage au)

Plot summary: It was 1950s when pen pals were popular and almost everyone had one! You used to have a handful of them but the camaraderie between you and them faded as you got older. One day, you found a newspaper on your late great-grandpa's shelves in his bedroom. Excitedly, you flipped the papers to get to a specific page and bingo! There was a section for the addresses of people who are looking for a pen-friend much like yourself. After randomly choosing, you sent out your first letter and he replied back! However, you noticed something weird in the photo he sent...

Crds to @drinkthesky for the divider!

Men I deem fit: Alhaitham, Albedo, Imbibitor Lunae/Dan Heng, Dr Ratio, Diluc, Zhongli, Venti, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Sunday.

(Fck alphabetical order, I can't do that sh*t)

The amber glow of the afternoon sun bathed the room as the open windows situated at the opposite of the door allowed sunlight streams to enter the room as its panes quivered in hushed symphony due to the beckoning of the hot air. If you moved closer to the windows, you could see dust particles illuminated by the natural light. Even after the passing of your great-grandfather, the bookish scent of his cologne still lingers in his bedroom along with his possessions which were either coated with a thin layer of dust or covered with a big white cloth.

The wooden floor creaked beneath you as you walked towards his bookshelves in hopes of finding pieces of classical literature and maybe learn a thing or two from it. You delicately traced your index finger through the long vertical rows of books, leaving a trail of dust on the pads of your digit. As you peruse through countless novels only to be unsatisfied until you saw a newspaper at the edge of the shelf, untouched by the dust that plagues the rest.

'How strange...' you thought to yourself as you rubbed your thumb and index finger against the surface of the paper to determine its texture: it was sandy and rough, definitely ancient but the format was similar to the ones your dad reads in the morning so it must be a freshly produced newspaper, albeit printed in a different quality of paper.

Or so you thought...

The newspapers in your hands gave you a glimmer of hope; it was an opportunity to find a pen friend! You used to have a few ones but stopped writing to them either because they used too much colloquial words or they had at least twenty spelling mistakes in each sentence which gave you a migraine whilst trying to make out if your correspondent was writing in a foreign language or not. But this time, maybe you could hit the jackpot and find an actually nice pen-pal. Excitedly, you flipped through the papers and stopped at the specific page which had a list of names along with their addresses under the bold heading:

'Pen-friends! Make new friends around the world!'

Your eyes scanned across the list of names, allowing your intuition to guess the personality of that stranger based on their names alone. But then, a specific name caught your eye- it was uncommon which was the main reason it stood out from the rest of the names which probably were taken from 'Top 10 best names for children of this year'. You took a closer look of the address below that person's name and turned out, both of you lived in the same area! A surge of enthusiasm rippled throughout your body and immediately tucked the newspaper into the inside pocket of your coat.

~~~~~♡~~~~~♡~~~~~♡~~~~~

The curtains of your living room slowly opened as you peeked your head out and pressed your face against the glass. A day had passed after you had sent your very first letter and heck, you even went a mile far by sending a photograph of your two cats to make a memorable first impression. Then- just like you had anticipated- the postman on his bike suddenly came into view and halted his vehicle by your mail-box and placed a letter inside. You clutched the folds of the curtains unable to contain the happiness blossoming inside you. As soon as the postman disappeared out of your eyesight, you rushed outside to take the letter out of the mailbox. The first thing that greeted your eyes was the immaculate handwriting and the scent emitted from the paper.

'How sweet of him...' you thought as you continued reading the letter in your mind. The paragraphs were neatly organized and made of outdated vocabulary that you wouldn't understand had you not taken an interest in classic literature. You could tell this man practiced utmost eloquence just by his letter alone. Overall, he wrote a few things about himself and asked you about your hobbies, what you like and blablabla.

But then, something struck within you concerning with the photograph he sent and notes written behind it:

"The construction of the mall is making my ears bleed. I cannot stand the constant sounds of the drills and other sounds coming from it. I daresay, you must be experiencing the same disturbance as we are only one street apart from each other. Perhaps we should plan to meet up after the mall opens. What do you think of it?"

The more you stared at the photograph and the note, the more confused you became. The picture showed the mall with the same as the one down the street but it was still in construction according to the photo. 'Huh?' A frown stretched across your face. That specific mall had been going on more nearly a century now to the point that the community had been urging the government to shut it down in order to build a more innovative one. Didn't it finish construction like a hundred years ago? But his photo told a whole new different story.

Suspicions rose inside of you as a spiral of questions revolved around your head- you found it difficult to process it. Not missing a beat, you hurried to your room to find that newspaper you took from your late great-grandfather's shelf. You mumbled in frustration when you couldn't find it; you swore you left it either on the desk or on the bed. Finally, you found it under the bed and oh my...

The letter was published a century back in time which meant that...

"T-The man I just sent a letter...was from the past...." The newspaper dropped from your hands. Your letter had ripped its way out of the fabric of time and went into the mailbox of a man who lived in the same area as you but different time period. He was in the past, you were in the future.

Still, a part of you felt curious about the interaction between two people of different dimensions. So you decided to reply back to his letter. What could go wrong...right?

To people who are more knowledgeable in time travel or parallel universes, pls don't attack me, I know what I wrote may or may not make sense for some of you but pls don't mind me 😭😭😭

And also, not proofread because I wrote this around midnight and I'm literally on the verge of dozing off- (Ik I have such healthy sleep cycles and I have to wake up at 6 am yayyy!! Sleep-deprived-students-core😘🙆🤗)

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gomzwrites · 2 years ago

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The taskforce 141 reactions to your display of jealousy

a/n: I’ve seen a fair amount of fics and writings that show them being jealous, but what if we are the ones that get jealous then? ;)

In this fic, the reader is more like in denial sort of jealousy + first time feeling jealous kind of thing. I decided to do a mix of displays from reader, Price and Ghost are subtle, Soap and Gaz are more direct!

I might do another one where it's more action-based and possessive like reader beating the strangers up or something

also the relationship between reader and tf141 is not exactly publicly known :) Notes:

dividers drawn by @gomzdraws (click for better resolution!)

reader's texts are in purple

Tags: xgn!reader, established relationship(basically already dating), incorrect military terms, implied nsfw but its sfw I swear, cursing

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Captain John Price

Captain Price has been going around giving meetings and distributing tasks as you follow along and help him carry the essential documents all day. In the last meeting, he will meet one of the operators to explain the upcoming missions. You decide to wait on the other side of the room as you watch the captain carry out his duty.

Everything was fine as the conversation went on. You may be standing at a distance, but you can faintly hear the discussion. You can tell he is quite impressed with the soldier’s skill, and the exchange was beginning to be less serious as they started talking about things that were out of topic. You watch from the corner of your eyes as the person starts leaning closer, even cracking jokes as they pat John’s shoulder.

Well, whoever that is, they sure know how to butter the captain up.

You thought for a moment before internal cursing as you shook your head.

Get a grip; he is the captain; surely he knows what he’s do-

Your thoughts stop as you watch the person lean in and whisper something to John’s ears, and you notice how the Captain shifted slightly and cleared his throat. The soldier proceeded to shuffle something into his back pants pocket before leaving, even winking at him before the door was closed.

What the fuck?

You furrow your brows as you watch Captain sigh, walk back to his desk, and take his seat. You waited until he gestured for you to come to him with his hand, and you decided to act naturally as you organised the messy papers and reports on his table.

This is not something you should be worried about in the first place, so don’t even bring it up. You say this to yourself internally as you take a seat next to him and read through the documents. But your mind keeps racing, and there's a burning feeling inside you, clouding your thoughts as you tap your finger softly on the table repeatedly.

"Y/N", the Captain said as he lifted your chin up. You followed his hand and slowly glanced up and stared at him with a hint of embarrassment. Did he find out what I was thinking already?

Yes, sir?

You answer back with the most steady voice you can muster at the moment. You watch as he softens his gaze and brushes your hair away. You recognise that look.

You’re not talking to the captain now; you’re talking to John.

He doesn't say a word as he takes out the paper from his back pocket and places it on the table. You try to maintain your composure and remain as calm as you can when you see a number scribbled on the paper, but you can't help but let out a cold glare at the paper for a second.

That piece of shi-

He taps your chin twice lightly as he grabs your attention again before running his hand down to your neck and resting it there. You know this signal, so you promptly hold out his favourite lighter that you carry around and light up his cigar. He hums appreciatively as he takes a drag and puffs out the smoke.

He looks back at you, silently telling you to keep your eyes on his as he takes the cigar out of his lips, twisting it between his fingers before he rolls and holds the cigar vertically, the evenly burned red-orange cherry side at the end facing downward. You follow curiously before watching him plant it firmly on the paper, twisting it until a hole appears as he smiles and kisses your cheek.

"You know I’ll only look at you, sweetheart," he whispers with his deep, husky tone as you blush and glance away.

You knew? You say it softly as he leans in and brushes your neck in slow circles as he nods and chuckles.

"Course I do, I know everything about you," he said before taking another drag from his cigar as he smirked and leaned in closer.

"You look like you were about to punch that person in the face; it’s pretty hot, actually," he says as he watches you shake your head and roll your eyes lightly.

Hot? Woah, who knew you liked me being violent?

You joke back as he kisses your ears softly, feeling his beard tickling you as you sigh. He gives you a dark look, dipping his voice another octave lower as he moves his hand from your neck slowly down to your hip.

Oh, I love it when you get all rowdy and rough, especially if you’re doing it because of me, like last night, hm?

That instantly makes you go red as you give a nervous laugh and squirm in your seat at the memory. He gives you an amused look as he puts his hand on your waist and pulls you in closer.

Well, it looks like tonight will be the same.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

John Soap MacTavish

You were idling around the base after just finishing healing from a previous mission. Technically, you’re not supposed to move around so much, but you were already getting bored as you stared up at the same ceiling for days. You know Soap has been helping you out immensely by practically moving into your room and keeping you company. But he went on a mission and won’t return until today, so you decided to sneak out of the room and brew yourself a cup of tea. You hum as you take in the smell and sigh.

This is certainly better than water, that’s for sure

you think to yourself before deciding to walk around and explore the base. Well, just glancing around to see if there’s anything new that has happened. That’s when you spotted a few jeeps with a group of people and a few regular faces you recognised: Ghost, Gaz, Price, and your boyfriend Soap getting down from the vehicle. You wanted to wave and call out to Soap before noticing someone else beside him, but what really caught your attention was the jacket the person was wearing; it was his jacket. Your favourite jacket of his.

You stop dead in your tracks from a distance as your grip on the tea mug tightens. You observe as Soap and the gang talk and laugh, you know like they always do post-mission, and yet something just doesn’t seem right for you as you fixate your gaze on the person that has been clinging to Soap, wrapping their hands around his arm as they also joke along. You can see Soap politely patting their arms away as he bumps their shoulder.

Right, he’s doing something about it. You thought to yourself before you quickly went back to your room. You knew Soap wouldn't do anything that would upset you, but yet you couldn’t shake that thought away—the thought of someone else whirling him away. You hate it; whatever it is that you’re feeling, it feels wrong, even toxic, but you just can’t help it. You know it's not his fault, and you’re well aware that he can’t control everyone’s actions. You decided to lie on your bed and pull the blanket over yourself as you tried to sleep it away.

Not long after, Soap knocks gently at your door and enters your room. He notices how you are facing the wall and bundled in a blanket, breathing normally, which indicates that you aren't sleeping despite your eyes being closed.

Heeeeeyyyy, how’s ma favourite cutie feeling, hm?

He asked in his usual light tone as he sat on your bed and petted your blanket. He stared at you as he leaned in and kissed your shoulder softly.

Ya awrite?

He asked as he noticed how you were quieter than usual. Your heart broke slightly as you noted how his tone became worried, so you turned around and gently brushed his cheek as you shook your head.

I'm okay, dear. Just tired. You lied as you smiled and watched as he took your hand and cupped his own face. “Anything ah can do for ye?”, He asks again with puppy eyes as you chuckle, pulls his face close to you, and kiss his lips softly. Cuddles. You whisper softly as he smiles and hugs you close. Ayeee, then it's cuddles you're gettin’

He says as he lays down beside you, nuzzles his neck on your shoulder, and pulls you close to him. You sigh happily as you let the jealous thoughts slowly dissolve away, but that doesn’t mean you forget about the incident.

A few days later, when you were doing laundry, you spotted his jacket again—the one that fuc—you mean, the other person—was wearing that time. You stared at it as you lifted it up from the basket, and instantly a whiff of perfume or cologne that you did not recognise got picked up by your nose. You frowned and glared at the jacket for a moment, seething in anger as you decided to toss it into the washer. After washing and drying it, you had an idea and opted to wear and keep it. Naw, this is my jacket now. You thought to yourself as you walked around the base with the jacket, a proud look clearly showing on your face as the jacket had a clearly huge "Soap" behind it.

Soap notices as he smirks and walks towards you, crossing his arm as he stands beside you. “Oi? Is that ma jacket?”, he says as he takes a good look at you, grinning ear to ear as he glances you up and down. He won’t lie, he never knew how good you looked wearing his stuff.

Your jacket? I have no idea what you’re talking about; it's mine now.

You replied back nonchalantly when you noticed that same person who was with Soap the other day staring at you from across the hall. You gave them a death glare as you turned and pulled Soap down by his collar, making him jolt forward as he gasped slightly at the sudden motion. You kept eye contact as you whispered to Soap.

Not only the jacket, but you’re mine as well

Your lips barely brush his ears slightly as Soap blushes and gives out a surprised laugh.

Well, well, well.

He replied back in a shocked tone as he watched the direction you were looking at before he gave an "ah" sound as he made the connection. He giggled as he stared back at you with a loving stare. “Hmm, didnae take yer a jealous one”, he says before holding you closer to him by the waist and kissing your forehead. Mmm, you give a grunt as you feign annoyance and glance away. He laughs as he nuzzles you close and gives you a hug. “Aw~ dun get mad at me, yer know I love ya, and only ya”, he kisses you on the neck softly to tickle you as you drop your frown and giggle at him to push him away playfully,

Oh fuck off, don't go all sappy on me now.

You roll your eyes as you try to wiggle your way out. “Nuh uh, I will show yer how much I love ya”, he says before he picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder. You let out a yelp as you move around and let out a whine. MacTavish! Put me down this instant! You say it with a laugh as he smacks your ass and shakes his head as he walks towards his room.

“Nope, ah won't, you're going to get all the love you missed.”

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Kyle Gaz Garrick

You wake up early after preparing yourself, walking slowly to the kitchen to carry out your routine. You like to start your day off with coffee, and on the other hand, Kyle likes to have tea in the morning. Jasmine tea with two teaspoons of sugar and some milk, just the way he likes it. So every morning for the past few months of dating, you always make sure to brew him his tea as well when you make coffee. You shuffle around the shelves as you look for his mug, being confused when you don't see it at the usual spot. You glance around before you hear Kyle speaking to someone on the other side of the place. You follow the voices and take a peek behind a wall as you watch him talk to someone with his mug in his hands already.

Hm, so he brewed it himself today? That’s odd, maybe because he woke up earlier.

You didn’t think much of it as you went back to the kitchen to make yourself a coffee and go on with your day.

The next day, you walk to the kitchen and find his mug, only to find it not there again. You frown as you try to rationalise your thoughts.

Okay, maybe he was in a hurry.

You think again as you shake those thoughts away and carry out your duties. But then it starts to bother you when the same thing happens again the next day and again for the following two days.

He never brought it up and neither one of you talked about it. You assume maybe you messed up the way you make his tea or maybe he changed his preference. But it still confuses you, and it hurts a little too; he could’ve told you if that's the case. However, something else is notable: he has been getting more headaches recently, and you’ve asked him about it.

Are you sure it's not something serious? How about going to the medical bay to check if everything’s alright?

No, no, it's fine; it's just stress.

You decided enough was enough as you woke up extra early today to question him in the kitchen about why he started making tea for himself. But then that's when you saw it—a figure that opened the top shelf and took his mug out. You recognise that person; it was one of the recruits Kyle has been speaking to lately. You immediately stepped forward and grabbed their hand as you spoke calmly.

What do you think you’re doing?

“Huh?”, The person gets caught off guard as they glance back at you, a frown forming on their face as they continue; it's almost as if they’re annoyed that they were stopped by you.

Erm, making coffee for my superior? Why? Because I can? So you’ve been doing this for the past few days? Yeah.

The recruit replied back with a proud look as they rested their hands on their hips, not hiding the fact that they were doing Gaz this favour for obvious reasons when the blush on their cheeks was prominent.

That’s when it clicked: he hasn’t been making tea himself, and the source of his headaches is because of this dumbass. Kyle can’t hold his caffeine; it always gives him a splitting headache. You also know how he has trouble rejecting kindness from others and has always kept silent about his actions. You sigh as you take the mug from the person.

Hey! What’s your problem? Give it ba-

You watch your tone.

Your sharp voice cuts through the air as you turn and stare down at them, leaning closer to the recruit as venom seeps out of your mouth.

Sergeant Gaz doesn’t take coffee; if you wanted to flirt with someone, at least be smart about it. Oh, wait, never mind about that... (You trail off as you firmly press your hand on their shoulder, gazing down as the recruit gulps and shivers nervously under your scrutiny.) You probably don’t even know he’s taken already; poor you. How did you end up here with such an empty head anyway? I thought everyone here was smart and observant; clearly, you’re not.

The recruit gasps as tears prick up in their corner, and they immediately falter and shamefully run away as you sigh.

Okay, maybe that was too far.

You mumbled before hearing something shuffling behind you. You felt your back warm up as Kyle hugged your shoulder from behind. You smile as you kiss his arm and stare up at him.

“I'm sorry; I should’ve told you about it.” His voice is a low whisper as you softly caress his arm soothingly. You know, you could’ve poured the coffee away or let me drink it. You speak gently as you slowly turn around to face him.

“I know, but I didn’t want to waste it or deny the coffee when someone had made it for me.” You sigh as you brush your hand on his cheek and continue.

Well, they won’t anymore, and only I will be the one making you tea from this day on. You give a smile when Kyle chuckles and kisses your forehead. “I’ll have to admit that watching you speak like that was pretty cool”, He said it with a smirk as you shook your head. Ah, so I wasn’t cool before? You tease him back as he quickly shakes his head and kisses your hands. “I didn’t say that.” He giggles as he sighs and rests his head on your shoulder. “Can you make me tea again? Just the way I like it?”, He whispers with a smile as you nod and kiss his cheek.

Always.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

Simon Ghost Riley

It was one of the sparring sessions where Ghost and Soap were tasked with providing training and demonstrations to the new recruits. You decided to join and watch from the side and provide any needed assistance, but truthfully, you just wanted to watch Ghost. It's moments like these where you get to see him roll up his sleeves and flex his muscles. Sure, you get to see all of him whenever you’re in his bedroom, but watching him display himself confidently in public? That’s a different kind of look you will never get tired of.

The session went on normally, and most recruits were obedient and managed to replicate what Ghost and Soap have been demonstrating, with just a few slower soldiers that require more attention, which they supervise and guide on a one-to-one basis.

And there was this one recruit that Ghost has been teaching for some time now. You note how the recruit was standing slightly closer to him, and the way they looked at Ghost made you uneasy—not in a way that you think that person is going to hurt him, but in a way that you feel that the person has an ulterior motive. You don't miss the way the recruit brushed their hand across his arm, or how they were pressing their body against his in a way that was definitely unnecessary in the training, or how they deliberately messed up a step and let out that annoying giggle-

I'm overthinking.

You thought to yourself when you realised you were frowning and your hands were balled into a fist. You decided to step outside and take a breather as you tried to calm yourself. You sat on the bench alone as you breathed out and ran through your mind again.

Stop overthinking. They’re just training; Ghost is literally an adult. I don't have to fret over something like this, do I? Okay, what was that question? Of course I don't. Right, but why the hell did they stick so close anyway-

You drown in your own inner monologue as your eyebrows furrow, and you sigh again as you rest your head on your knees, all the while Ghost has been watching you at the corner.

He saw and noticed when you were staring just now. Well, you always do stare, and he likes it, but this time he felt your gaze was different, and from the way you stand with that tense shoulder and the way your hands were forming a fist, It didn't sit right with him, so he told Soap to take over the recruit, not even answering the "why" from the person as he quickly followed you when you left.

"Love…?" Ghost said as he cautiously stood behind you and looked down with a concerned expression, he watched as you glanced up and smiled at him.

That’s not a smile he knows.

Oh, hey Ghost! I'm just resting, don’t mind me.

"No, you’re not; I can see you thinking." Ghost replies back instantly as he takes a seat next to you and rubs your hands, softening his gaze as he leans in and rests his forehead on yours. "What is it, love?", Ghost asks as he takes in your demeanour. He watches as you clench your jaw and hold your breath, then glances away as you sigh, and then you look back at him again as you frown. He always likes observing you, and he can tell that you’re contemplating, so he gave your hand a squeeze to urge you to continue.

I just… I just didn't like how the recruit was acting around you; I don't know why.

You finally spit it out as you nervously grab his fingers and fiddle with them as you try to calm down. After saying it out loud, you do feel a little childish, and you don't know what his response will be either.

Ghost remained silent for a moment as he processed your words and thought back about the training. He did find the recruit slightly annoying because they’ve been deliberately repeating the same mistake over and over again, but he has not realised why they did so. Until now.

His thoughts click as he tilts his head slightly and looks back at you, now with a smirk growing as his mask shifts slightly.

"You’re jea-" No.

You cut him off as you turn away from him and face your back at him. He watches as redness forms at the tip of your ear. He chuckles as he leans in and rests his head on your head, kissing your hair slightly as he watches your pout which makes your cheeks get puffy.

Cute. So this is what you’re like when you’re jealous. He thought to himself before he raised his hand and pulled your cheek, causing you to gasp as you thrashed around.

What the-hey! Get off!

You complain back angrily as he does not stop and squishes your face after he pulls it a few more times. You protest more as you grab his hand until you can't help but giggle at him when you know he won’t stop.

Stop it! You’re going to make me have wrinkles!

He gives a soft huff of air as he shakes his head and grabs your right cheek with his thumb and index finger and bites it gently,

“I don't mind wrinkles”, he whispers as you let out a "hmph", grabbing his sleeve as you glare at him. He laughs again as he plants a kiss on the cheek he bit earlier.

I hate you.

I love you too.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

a/n: this is for all the Ghostie lovers out there to make up for the last fic <3 Im a firm believer that Ghost is silly in relationships, like come on man was putting out puns and jokes during the mission in the game! also bonus from my friends' reactions to Gaz's part:

Likes, reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated Have a good day/night! :D

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leonaquitaine · 1 year ago

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Virtual Photography Guide: Composition (Part 2)

Let's continue exploring composition with a few more guidelines used in real-life photography, together with some FFXIV examples!

Rule of Thirds

The Rule of Thirds involves dividing the viewport into a 3x3 grid by drawing two horizontal lines and two vertical lines, resulting in nine equally sized rectangles. According to the rule, placing key elements of interest along these gridlines or at their intersections create harmonious compositions and draws the viewer's eye in a visually pleasing and balanced way:

Rule of Odds

The Rule of Odds suggests that using an odd number of elements, such as three or five, tends to be more visually interesting and engaging compared to an even number. The Rule of Odds can be used to create a sense of asymmetry, tension, and visual flow:

Rule of Space

The Rule of Space emphasizes leaving empty space or room within the frame, specifically in the direction that the subject or elements are moving or looking towards. It adds a sense of direction or movement and allows the viewer to engage with the image more effectively:

Golden Ratio

The Golden Ratio, also known as the Divine Proportion or Phi (Φ), is a mathematical concept and compositional guideline used in various art forms. It is a ratio of approximately 1.618:1 and is considered aesthetically pleasing to the human eye. In photography, dividing the frame into sections based on the Golden Ratio and positioning important subjects or focal points along these divisions creates a visually appealing and balanced composition. That way, compositions that feel harmonious and naturally pleasing:

So there you have it! while not comprehensive, these guidelines may help create shots that are engaging and pleasing to the eye.

You can now find this and all the previous guides and reference materials in our Discord server, Sights of Eorzea. Come check it out!

#ffxiv #gpose #aquitaine studio #Sights of Eorzea #gpose guide #ffxiv tutorial

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finleycannotdraw · 8 months ago

Note

yo, hi,

please rant about the use of colours/shots in dead boy detectives (if you want to), that would be amazing to read!

omg hell yeah i would love to. <3 buckle up everybody!

(there were some other people in the comments who wanted to hear more as well. for convenience's sake i'm going to keep it all in one post.)

I'm not going to talk about every single frame in the last post, because there are a lot, but I'll be sure to touch on all of the ones that have a good amount of depth beyond the dramatic lighting. (sorry, Angie shot.)

...this is going to get long.

so first, this one:

With Edwin's brown coat, Niko's green coat, the brown bushes in between them, and the trees behind Edwin, this shot is cohesive and satisfying. I drew the orange lines to sort of illustrate how your eye moves across the frame; the line of eye contact, the tree branch (dashed lines) almost parallel to that, the sidewalk/grass line, and the lapels/shadows/folds of their jackets all form a general diagonal streamlined snapshot. Then the black post behind Niko, the tree between them, and the tree trunk behind Edwin continue to divide the frame vertically and add to the additional invisible "line" created by their height difference. Finally, the sky behind Niko, as well as her hair, contrast heavily and very well with the darker colors of the tree behind Edwin, though there is still white on his side (the building) and brown on hers (tree branches). If you were to take a single diagonal line from the bottom left corner to the top right, you would get two incredibly distinctly colored sections, but they complement each other so well.

This whole scene is gorgeous because of the pale sky and water up against Niko's hair and the brown tree trunks with Edwin's jacket, but I also love it because it's so simply colored. We have the classic blue+orange color dynamic, but diluted down to very pale blue and very dark brown. This shot specifically features Edwin focused at the center (the blue lines show that he is standing mostly straight up, while the trees on the borders of the frame are all leaning inwards), with Niko crouched down to fit with the shape of the hillside (orange) AND the silhouetted rocks in the foreground. Then the hillside, the shadow on the water, the general cutoff of the tree branches, and the island in the distance (purple) frame the two of them in the middle without making a Point of it. It looks very natural, especially with the dark shadows around the border of the frame. (personally sort of brings to mind Wanderer Above The Sea of Fog).

I don't think I need to add any annotations to this one. The lighting is sharp and so are the shadows. The fog and the shine on the water, his hair, and the collar of his coat are starkly lit, while everything else, including his face, is deeply shadowed. Plus it's all an ominous, murky green. It's almost the opposite of Lilith coming out of her blood-red ocean. 10/10 frame, I have no words.

I gasped the first time I saw this shot. There are so many vertical lines (orange), which make the space feel thinner: the spike, the bulletin board(?) on the far left, both doorframes, the edges of the table and boxes, the tile on the wall on the right, Maxine herself... and then there are the diagonal lines, all sort of spreading out from Maxine, which includes the table edge, the shadows, and the wall tiles again. Then there's the fact that it's all so dark, but not quite pitch black. Once again we have a green/orange combo, and the light behind Maxine being so small in the whole frame makes it very effectively claustrophobic. We also never saw her enter this room from behind, which elevates her as threatening, because the camera work makes it seem as though we, the audience, are backing away from her as she enters, and then hiding from her as well. While I am devastated by the lack of a sapphic romance arc, I have to say I was blown away by the production of this scene.

I love this one because they're arranged so neatly around the book. I didn't draw a curve over their heads, but it's easy to visualize by following Monty's hairline up to Edwin's, and then Edwin's down to Charles' down to Crystal's. The height order is perfect. Then there's the black-brown-black-brown of Monty's jacket, Edwin's jacket, Charles' jacket, and Crystal's hair. The book itself helps frame their faces (diagonal blue lines), and their clothes fall into uniform with the vertical trees behind them, creating a satisfying, natural, unobtrusive background. This is definitely more visually appealing than a shot of them leaning over and looking down at the book/camera. It's also broken up very nicely by the greenery. Plus, none of their faces are shown from the same angle! Refreshing!

Poor Monty :( but hey, he gets a really awesome shot here! We're back to orange+blue, and the angle of this shot makes it look like the vertical trees behind him are positioned diagonally (orange) to follow the dark blue shadow behind his head. We also get two light sources: one of them is the moon, and the other one comes from the same place as the music. The moonlight (blue) sort of encircles his head and cuts off at the line of trees about halfway across the frame. Both the back of his hair and the far side of his face are illuminated, which is very effective in terms of bringing him into the foreground and making him the focus of the shot even though he's not in the middle of the frame. It's also balanced nicely by having background detail on the left, with the orange trees, but not on the right, where there's nothing but dark blue behind Monty. This is also a great shot when it comes to his hair and jacket, because the jacket is used to add to the framing of his face with the dark blue background, and his dark brown hair is lit sparingly, which ties in the left side of the frame.

Like the frame with Maxine, this one has a lot of shadow and a little bit of light, and again works with an orange/blue (or teal, really) color scheme, but this one is much friendlier. The windows are larger than the doorframe and Charles isn't actually blocking the light the way Maxine did. Instead, he's illuminated from the right by Edwin's orange lantern, and the shot is balanced by highlights (blue) that stop it from becoming cramped and stressful. There are stable vertical lines (purple) and rafters and shadows spreading out from the center (orange). Charles, though he is blocking the window, is wearing a white tank top, and his skin takes on the warmth from the lantern, so he's not in silhouette and he blends very nicely with the scene. I love that he's not at the center of the shot, but instead framed almost perfectly in the right window. (Another thing I love about this show is that the characters almost always interrupt the continuity of the background even when they're positioned to be framed by it. It makes the scenes feel much more natural even while they continue to be gorgeously directed from an artistic/stylistic point of view.)

This is one of the simpler ones, but it's perfect. The Night Nurse's hair and vest are the same brownish orange, and her shirt is the same as the walls, sticking with our tried and true brown/green (easy variation on orange/blue) color scheme. She is framed in the blackness of the doorway, but once again interrupts the white doorframe on the left side. Even the lamp and the board (?) on either side of the frame fill the negative space in a natural way. Also, the vertical lines of the board, doorframe, door, and lamp aren't perfectly spaced apart, which makes the whole shot feel more down-to-earth.

There is so much going on in this shot. The beams of light (orange) are emanating from behind Edwin in a shape sort of reminiscent of wings. The angles of light/shadow and the immediately obvious position of some of the mirrors (blue) also spreads out from behind him, reinforcing the wing imagery and focus. The background is lighter than the floor, and Edwin's clothes blend in with the floor and the reflecting highlights (green) in the mirrors. It's all balanced by shadows (purple), which aren't so much shadows as they are dark-colored mirrors and the blood on Edwin's face. This shot is an unsettling combination of chaos and order, increased by the strange phenomena of mirrors endlessly reflecting into each other, especially since Edwin doesn't show up in any of them. You'd expect him to look out of place, and he mostly does, but there's just enough immediate immersion with the color scheme and light angles to make him fit perfectly. And he wouldn't fit in this shot nearly as well if he were wearing his usual clothes. It's such a good way to introduce Despair. I love this scene.

Now I needed to include these two next to each other, because they're. They're the same scene. Maren is on the porch looking down at Crystal and the boys, but the color schemes and blocking are so starkly different. Maren is wearing black, and the house is washed-out yellow and maroon, both unfriendly colors in this scene. The windows all show the gray reflections of the dead tree instead of even a glimpse inside the house, immediately showing that Maren is hiding something. Then in the shot with Crystal and the boys, they're positioned behind her on the path. Edwin is next to the brown gate and gray stones, and Charles is sort of shadowing Crystal and framed by the green bushes. Crystal's shirt is flower-patterned to match the pink petals on the ground, and her red hair and purple jacket make the whole shot more vibrant and friendly-looking than Maren's, even though Maren is supposedly the one being helpful/friendly/hospitable. The first time I watched this episode I knew I couldn't trust Maren as soon as I saw her standing on her front porch. This scene is, as Charles would say, brills.

Okay, last one, I have to stop somewhere. (I have so many more. I have. SO many more. that i could talk about. but this post is so long already). There are three windows, evenly spaced, white light and curtains framed in them. Charles is in nearly full silhouette as he opens that chest; his head and the lid of the chest intersect with the vertical window frame, and his arm runs parallel to the middle bar. He also blocks a good portion of the leftmost window, while Edwin stands in front of the one on the right. He's fully framed by the window and standing farther back than Charles, not quite silhouetted but still very dark compared to the background. When he ducks down to inspect the cabinet, his head ends up in front of the wall between the two windows. This whole scene is an excellent display of blocking/framing/lighting, just in terms of where they end up holding any given position while they talk. Once again, there's nothing artificial or manufactured about their blocking. These aren't statement shots (all film projects have a few Really Good Shots, but they're often at extremely important, pivotal, or emotional times, instead of spread out through the storyline.), which makes them even better.

I might have to make another post and include shots with Jenny, the sprites, the Cat King, Esther, and more landscape shots. There is no shortage of stunning frames and scenes, and there's no reason not to dive into the production and hidden meanings.

TL;DR: this show is an ARTISTIC MASTERPIECE. Please watch it. :)

#dead boy detectives #edwin payne #charles rowland #crystal palace #niko sasaki #monty finch #monty the crow #film stills #cinematography #this. got away from me.#appreciation post #color schemes #film techniques #analysis #symbolism

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cyb-by-lang · 1 month ago

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Cascade (part 4)

And here we have the internship beginning.

(Kei notes some divergences from what happened in Shell Game in her narration as we go. For the most part, these can be attributed to having way less time to meet up with her teammates and get them acclimated to Japan.)

Sorry, Ingenium.

After saying goodbye to the other students at the Musutafu train station, neither Kei or Iida talked during the trip to Hosu City.

While it wasn’t that uncommon for Kei to zone out completely on public transit, Iida would’ve said something out of politeness at the very least. There wasn’t that much of a crowd on the late morning train compared to either rush hour. They’d even both managed to find seats rather than clutching the overhead handles or the various vertical handholds.

Instead, Kei dug a book out of her non-regulation backpack and read with her forearms leaning on her costume’s carry case. Every once in a while, she’d either shoot a deadly glare at someone trying to approach the more-recognizable Iida or look at her classmate in concern. The former scared off interlopers, while the latter had no apparent effect.

Iida just sat there, like a super-tense robot.

Kei wasn’t even as close to him as Midoriya and Uraraka were, so directly asking how Iida felt…didn’t quite work, in her head. She didn’t have the kind of rapport where she could just say what was on her mind. Or punch it out of him and remain friends after. That was a Gai thing.

And we would not want that.

Though guess being genuinely me could still go worse. With a sigh, Kei turned her attention back to her light novel. Hopefully, some fictional violence would take her mind off some of the impending actual violence for a while.

Before she knew it, they were walking out into bright sunshine in a city Kei had patrolled once. Just not as herself.

Manual, the Normal Hero, turned out to be a plain-faced man with a generic ocean theme to his costume. His visored helmet even had a fin top, though nothing functional. Practical white boots, yellow gloves, and a skintight shirt divided evenly between blue and white rounded out the look. He greeted his case-toting interns with a smile and a wave and didn’t seem at all awkward about it. Manual didn’t seem to mind that Iida’s behavior and countenance was a little terse or that Kei tried to stay in Iida’s shadow all the way from the train station to his pro agency.

While Kei’s counterfeit Quirk was stronger than his by orders of magnitude, Manual was really no weaker than the average Kiri-nin. Like most shinobi, he relied on water already present in his environment to do his work, but in a city, he was never that far from a fire hydrant. More importantly, operating in an urban environment usually gave him a lot of pro hero allies within shouting distance.

For all intents and purposes, he was an ordinary pro hero with ordinary responsibilities in a city with a serious serial killer infestation.

Kei felt kind of bad for him, because both of his interns brought ulterior motives along with their literal baggage. Not bad enough to confess to anything, of course, but the thought lingered.

“Well, now that you’ve both arrived safely, let’s get you situated.” Manual didn’t have the same kind of winning smile as, say, All Might, but he didn’t really need it. He beckoned them to follow him into the building. “To cut down on the commute somewhat, my agency will provide room and board for the week. We also have locker rooms so you can get changed quickly for our first patrol. Meal breaks may vary a little depending on what’s happening in the field, but we’ll take good care of you.”

“Thank you, Manual-sensei,” Iida managed with a third of his usual bombast. Still, he bowed.

Kei clasped both hands over her costume case and mirrored him. “We’ll be sure to learn a lot from you this week, Manual-sensei.”

“I have no doubt!”

Kei’s borrowed room was smaller than her apartment’s bedroom, but it didn’t need to really be more than a cot and bathroom access to make her happy. Manual’s agency even had on-site laundry service, so the backpack she’d brought along would suffice for the entire week. Locking the door behind her, she quickly stripped out of her UA uniform and made the change to her “hero” costume.

Unlike some hero students who a) thought out their requests and b) chose a company that could take criticism, Kei dreaded looking at what she’d be wearing for most of this week. Even now, the design was a short, sleeveless kimono in dark blue wave patterns, long (unarmored) gloves that reached her biceps and only covered one finger apiece. It’d taken a round of angry revision notes to even get ultra-lightweight armor incorporated into the torso keep her vital organs covered.

Maybe they’d only given ground because Kei destroyed the first iteration “by accident” during the USJ incident. She’d probably never know. It fell on the cot with a faint rattle, though, so at least the nano-whatever weave chainmail component was still there.

Might as well get it over with. Kei took a deep breath and checked on the rest of the costume.

While the boots included shinguards, the designers went with a tabi look for the actual shoe component. The pants appeared to be basically skintight swimming trunks, probably because her listed Quirk incorporated so much water manipulation. And for some fucking reason, there was an obi with a massive bow on the back, trailing behind her as she walked. Kei was going to trip and eat pavement because of that thing someday.

Overall, what Kei pulled out of the case had barely been changed. She just got an extra belt with some pockets for stowing things like utility knives and little adhesive bandages for civilian boo-boos.

When Kei inevitably did an about-face and started her career of villainy as Cascade, the City Drowner, she’d start with the support company and knock their building down brick by brick. Yes, a safer bet would be to go to UA’s Support Department and demand revisions from people who weren’t so obstinate, but it would be so satisfying. Vindictively.

Still, she put it on. Including the hitai-ate that wasn’t Konoha’s. And the makeup to downplay her scar. The goal here was to appear as normal as possible—as a hero hopeful—to anyone observing her and not rock any boats. Certainly not literal ones, either. No matter how much looking at her reflection in the provided mirror felt wrong.

“All right.” Kei clapped her hands together to shock herself awake. She closed her costume case and took a deep breath. “I can do this.”

Kei emerged from her temporary quarters feeling as awkward as she had during the Sports Festival, but no longer concealed by her official gym uniform and a whole crowd of similarly-dressed kids. There was no more camouflage to be had.

“Ah, Gekkō-san, right on time.” Manual got up from his desk and waved. “Once Iida-kun is ready to go, we can take on your first patrol as young hero-hopefuls.”

“Thanks, Manual-sensei.” Kei crossed her arms as they settled in to wait for Iida in the agency’s lobby. It didn’t really help cover her discomfort, but it did make her feel slightly better.

“Hm, that reminds me—what’s your hero name? I don’t remember seeing it on your paperwork.”

“Oh. It’s, um, Cascade. The Mist Hero.” Ugh, I sound like such a fake. Kei managed to mutter a rather lackluster explanation involving deadlines, not really enunciating any of it.

Manual gave her a thumbs-up likely meant to inspire confidence in the downtrodden. “That’s all right, Gekkō-san. I’ll just be sure to use it so you can get used to how it feels. I’m sure you’ll live up to the aspirations embodied by that name!”

More like live down to them. Heroes like Manual were so painfully earnest it made Kei’s hair want to stand on end. What did she do with that? “That’s…nice of you to say…”

“Well, here’s one more nice thing then: I think your hero costume looks good.”

Kei winced. She felt her whole body lean into that scrap of honesty and hated it just a little.

“I take it you don’t?”

“…No, Manual-sensei. It doesn’t feel like me.” Because it wasn’t. Not really.

“Maybe one of the goals you can work on for this internship can involve that, then.” Manual suggested it like it wasn’t a big deal. “Feeling comfortable with yourself.”

To be fair, it probably wouldn’t be an important issue once Kei got into an actual fight. Most of the distractions faded away once her blood was up and there was someone who needed a beatdown.

But in the meantime? Uuuuuugh.

Thankfully, there was a shiny and chrome option right there. Manual also noticed, then waved, “Oh, Iida-kun! Over here.”

Iida’s full-on Ingenium look was so much more complicated—visually and emotionally—and storied than Kei’s ongoing fight with support companies. He got to look like either a sentai villain or a turbo mecha, and his armor theoretically deflected attacks before he had to see if they’d bounce of his bones. It was one of the reasons that Iida was completely jacked, apparently. Besides, well, the whole running lifestyle. His hero outfit also came with a helmet that almost entirely concealed his face—except for his eyes—and made his voice echo in a simultaneously cool and kinda creepy way.

Iida really should’ve taken a better internship somewhere else. Anywhere else.

“Manual-sensei, I’m ready for duty,” Iida said firmly, despite Kei’s doubts. He was so serious about this that he didn’t even swing his arms for emphasis. “Please lead the way.”

“Of course. Come along, you two.”

Patrol as a concept was…fine.

Mostly boring.

Kei didn’t exactly mind walking all over cities. A lot of what Hosu citizens wanted out of their local heroes was a token showing. If that meant they also got help taking in their laundry or rescuing cats from trees, so much the better. She did a lot of the same things in Konoha when just starting out as an adorable little genin. There was little expectation of violence in broad daylight. Even petty criminals—those stubborn or uncreative enough to strike without any stealth consideration—were lying low for the moment.

Basically, the point was deterrence. Though the Hero Killer had earned that title, he didn’t attack groups of heroes. No, he hunted solo operators. Or maybe just whoever separated from the pack, regardless of specifics. Now the city was crawling with potential fights and potential victims.

Kei mostly hoped Iida didn’t plan to shove his way into the ring. When Ingenium was attacked, he’d been running ahead of his sidekicks and fought a guy specialized in close combat in a blind alleyway. Obito barely managed to get him to the hospital afterward, and if not for Kakashi’s tracking abilities, they might never have found him at all. From what Kei’s teammates said about it, there was a real chance Iida Senior would never get the full use of his left arm back. And the engine in it was probably beyond repair.

“We’ll mostly be patrolling the local area so you can get a feel for how this works,” Manual said, living up to his name. “Later, we’ll branch out.”

“Yes, Manual-sensei!”

Still, Kei did miss running across rooftops with her friends. Her job today, though, was to stay firmly bound by gravity and societal expectations. And not hunt down Stain like the slippery bastard he was.

So, Kei patrolled. Mostly, this entailed following Manual like a duckling while making sure Iida didn’t stray. Though that last part wasn’t said aloud.

Broken up by meals, breaks, and gentle encouragement from their pro mentor, the first day passed peacefully. Almost too peacefully for Kei to sleep soundly that night.

But the next day was similar, despite her worries. The absolute highlight of the entire eight-hour stretch was when Manual asked her to create water for him to manipulate and put out a car that had hit a light pole and caught fire. Iida managed to keep the victims calm while alerting emergency services, who then had to cut the driver out of the vehicle. Overall, it was a good deed and only ruined progress during rush hour for twenty minutes more than usual.

And then, the third day. Honestly, Kei would’ve called it superstition if trouble had waited one more day into their internship, but it wasn’t to be.

On the third day, the patrol shift split between a morning and afternoon set. While Manual did lead Kei and Iida around until lunch, the next few hours after that involved a little bit of training and a lot of paperwork. According to Manual, almost everything pro heroes were responsible for involved forms in triplicate, and they’d be lucky if computers got involved at all. A lot of the smaller agencies loved their carbon paper. Even snagging the time for a nap amid the flurry of bureaucracy didn’t really improve Kei’s opinion of the whole thing.

Suffice to say that when it was time to head out just before sunset, Kei was happy to see the sky again.

“We’ll be patrolling Kyoto a little later tonight,” Manual explained as they went. “Sorry this is so monotonous.”

“No, it’s better this way,” Iida replied.

Kei nodded along, taking a moment to yawn and stretch before a potential third night of nothing much.

Instead of just continuing to walk until their feet all fell off, Manual drew up short and turned toward Iida. An unusually serious look was on his face. “Hey, Iida-kun. This is kind of hard to ask, but you’re after the Hero Killer, aren’t you?”

Iida startled. “How did you…?”

Manual’s expression went sheepish and self-deprecating laugh popped out of him. “I couldn’t think of any other reason you’d come to my agency.” Then his brain seemed to catch up with his mouth. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. I’m glad you did, but…you shouldn’t be pursuing personal grudges.”

Good thing someone wants to talk about that.

“We heroes don’t have the authority to arrest people or punish them. The only reason we’re allowed to use our Quirks is because of the regulations put on them,” Manual pointed out.

…Though that part’s still bullshit.

“That’s why, no matter what their reason might be, a hero must not use their Quirk for themselves.” Manual actually glared at Iida. “If a pro hero used their powers solely for their own ends, it would be a very serious crime.”

Iida lowered his head just the slightest bit, as though shamed. Just a bit.

Conscious of the awkward atmosphere, Kei coughed to remind them both that she was still present.

With that tiny reminder, Manual’s seriousness cracked. Using the kind of choppy hand gestures that Iida normally did, he stumbled his way through his attempt to downplay how serious he’d been. “I’m not saying the Hero Killer isn’t incredibly guilty! You just seem like the really earnest type, you know? I’d hate for you to focus on one goal and ignore everything else.”

Like Iida doesn’t have tunnel vision fit for a train.

“Thank you,” Iida said, giving nothing away. “I appreciate your concern.”

Yeah, that wasn’t an actual concession. That was a very careful sidestep.

“Oh, it’s fine as long as you get what I’m saying.” Manual turned to lead them onward. “So, we good?”

He totally missed the way Iida’s fists clenched at his sides, the tension in his shoulders, or the weight still dragging him down. Or, if he did notice, Manual didn’t have the tools necessary to deal with Iida’s bellyful of vengeance before the Hero Killer finally put in an appearance.

Kei tapped Iida’s armor with her knuckles as she passed, since he was falling a little bit behind.

“Gekkō-san, what is it?”

“Let me know before you do something reckless,” Kei told him, pitching her voice carefully enough that Manual’s helmet wouldn’t let him catch it. “Don’t just run off.”

Iida didn’t say anything in reply. It was like he couldn’t acknowledge her concern without exploding, and thus needed to keep his focus entirely on putting one foot in front of the other. If it made him rude, maybe he’d be able to apologize for it later. When he felt better.

But Iida also didn’t notice the tracking seal she'd just pasted to his black bodysuit, which Kei figured made up for that.

#cascade #keisuke gekko #iida tenya #crossover #shell game #my hero academia #catch your breath fanfic

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beefrobeefcal · 2 months ago

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Dave Made Me Believe feat. Dave York

Summary: Dave is kind of a jerkwad with an agenda. for my own Dave York Made Me Believe challenge.

FBI!Dave York x f!reader | Rating: 18+ MDNI | Word Count: 1,974

Content Warnings: dave york is a jerk and bad lover, aliens, back seat sex, unfulfilling sex, bad sex, male orgasm, no female orgasm, vertical defenestration, old ladies, allusions to missing cats

Author's Notes: i apologize for how dumb this is. thank you to me for being such a noob and getting this posted before midnight on halloween. also, I have only even see one episode of the x-files (the one with the tapeworm human hybrid - yeah that one) and the two movies.

Thank you to @noxturnalnymph for their eyes and support and love and @strang3lov3 for humoring me and my delusions. thanks be to @saradika-graphics for the dividers

No more tag lists - follow @beefnotes + turn on notifications for fic updates!

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this in the early hours of the day after Halloween.

You were just supposed to be helping a government agent investigate the cat disappearances that were plaguing your neighbourhood. It was supposed to be simple and painless and like maybe a week’s worth of work tops.

But it wasn’t.

Dave York had knocked on your door a week prior, looking unamused and vexed that he had been saddled with this task by the higher ups. He said he needed an ‘in with the locals’ to discuss this ‘epidemic’ while he rolled his eyes at you. He seemed like a jerk, but his badge compelled you to cooperate. It meant a week off work - paid - at least because he was able to flash his badge and official letterhead at your boss, and thusly, you were at his side while he went door to door, taking statements while he looked like he wanted to hang himself.

The first day, you couldn’t get anything out of him beyond his name and his absolutely horrendous sweet tooth. Every home you were invited into, you were offered coffee or tea, and in both of them, he would ladle sugar into the cup. Both coffee or tea became syrup and he actually drank it. You could do nothing but assume that his government job came with amazing benefits - specifically dental.

The second day was much like the first except it rained.

The third day, however, was different. It was raining again, but one of the old ladies that you stood back and watched Dave interview said something that gave you pause. She’d mentioned that she had let her cat, Jojo, out the back door because had been scratching and clawing at it, and even though he had been an indoor cat his whole life, the crazy way he’d been behaving made her feel like she had no choice but to let him out.

“... and as soon as I opened the door, there was this bright light and big, low noise that - “

“Thank you for your time.”, Dave interjected and closed his little leather bound notebook. He glanced at you as he stood up.

“But the light and the-”

“Thank you again, Mrs. Roman. Please let my friend here know if little Jojo comes home.”

His forced smile and cold eyes stifled any further chance of the story coming from Mrs. Roman’s mouth and she nodded. You and Dave walked out of her house and back into the rain.

As you stood under the awning of your front door with Dave, watching him scribble notes in his little book, you decided that if Dave was going to kill you or seize your house or force you into a small room with nothing but saltines and crab juice to eat, he would have done it by now. You cleared your throat.

“So why didn’t you want to hear Mrs. Roman’s st-”

“Mouth. Shut.”

You stared at him incredulously. This was ludacris; you had spent the last three days following him around, ensuring the neighbours trusted him enough that they didn’t give him any friction, and he wasn’t even willing to tell you what you were doing beyond asking old ladies about cats. You tried to push for more information, but you were met with a cold glare and a firm finger pointing directly at your face.

“No.”

Day four started like all the other days with Dave knocking at your door, you open it, and you are greeted with his sour puss. Normally, you would have followed after him wordlessly and begun your routine, but today, you just stood back in the open door.

Dave had already taken a few steps before he realized you weren’t following. He turned around and gave you a “Are you coming?” full body shrug and you crossed your arms in response. You knew how to talk without words, too.

Dave huffed and stalked back towards you, and once there, he put his hands on his hips.

“What now?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. What now? How was that an appropriate response to you? When had you offered any resistance? You had gone along with everything he had thrown at you with no questions because of the badge he carried and you felt you were doing your civic duty by cooperating. But what now?

“Eat shit, pig.”

You flipped him off and slammed the door in his face.

You didn’t see Dave the rest of the day but he did show up again the following morning, same as before with a knock and a scowl. This time though, he held out a paper coffee cup from the bistro down the block. You took the coffee and you both silently made your way to the house at the end of the cul de sac.

That house was a little weird. It never seemed to adhere to the HOA standards and looked more dilapidated each spring when winter subsided and you were always surprised to find that it was still standing. You had mentioned it once to one of your older neighbours a few years back and they said that Mrs. Anastasia von Beavertrout was a recluse and didn’t bother anyone so you and them shouldn’t bother her. On the rare occasion that you watched the house long enough, you did see movement and the occasional light, so you ignored it for the most part.

But now Dave was marching you right towards it.

In what could only be described as the let down of a lifetime, the one and only Mrs. Von Beavertrout was real and was a recluse, and that was about the most interesting thing about her. She had no information to offer Dave in his line of questioning, and was fairly pleasant, although the tea she offered you tasted odd and made your head feel light. Dave had declined the tea, despite the old woman’s crooked sweet smile and gentle pushing. Dave was not one who liked to be influenced to do anything, let alone that, even if it was an old lady asking nicely.

You’d spent the majority of the day there, feeling like you were lost in a haze as she and Dave were conversing, and the hours seemed to slip away. Now that you were walking back down the street, it was well past dusk and the kids were out trick’r treating, dressed in their spooky best. While you would have been happy to just meander back home, Dave was on a mission. When you moved a little too slowly for his liking, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you along to keep up.

As you got closer to your paved walkway up to your door, Dave yanked you over to his car and shoved you into the backseat. You didn’t react until he was already in the driver’s seat, pulling away from the curb.

“What - Dave?”, you drawled out.

You sighed when he didn’t respond to you and laid back, watching the houses and kids and lights pass by in a blur, although you doubted Dave went any faster than 20 miles an hour. You were fairly certain now that you’d been drugged by that weird old bat and the more you thought about it, the more the absurdity of Dave and his old lady interviewees made you laugh.

“What’s so funny back there?”

Dave’s voice cut through your giggling and you sighed with a stupid grin on your face.

“Nothing… just funny because you’re actin’ like you’re hunting old lady aliens or somethin’.”

Dave slammed on the breaks and youabruptly smacked into the back of the front seats, getting wedged between them and the backseat on the floor.

You groaned and he got out and ripped open the back door, pulling you back up onto the seat and leaning over you.

“You didn’t hear or see anything today. Got it?”

HIs intense stare and firm tone told you that this was no time for levity, but you ignored that inner voice and sat up and kissed him.

Much to your surprise, he kissed you back.

Even more to your surprise, he pushed you back and crawled on top of you and he deepened the kiss. Just when you felt like your head was clearing up enough to enjoy, he pulled back and crawled off you and out of the car.

You sat up. “Whoa, wait - Dave? Was that - what’s-”

It was then you realized he’d driven around to the back alley and up behind Mrs. Von Beavertrout’s home on the hill, overlooking the valley below. “Why did you bring us-”

Turning back to Dave, he was hastily undoing and removing his pants. When he saw your eyes go wide, he raised his brows and gestured to you as he stood with his dress pants and white briefs around his ankles. His cock was peaking through the bottom of his dress shirt right below the last button. You took the hint and pulled off your leggings and underwear.

“We don’t have much time.”, he grunted against your mouth, crawling back on top of you. He managed to close the door behind him.

Oh. Dave was one of those guys. No prep and he spit in his hand and pumped his dick a few times then gave you a cocky half-grin before pressing against your hole. You watched his tongue pop out in concentration as he worked his way in. You winced once but he didn’t seem to notice (if he cared at all) but once he was fully seated, his mouth came down to yours; even if he was a bit of an inconsiderate lover, he was a hell of a kisser.

He began to move his hips, setting an even and steady pace. I might actually come. You thought to yourself.

“I kn-know you figured it out… the aliens. It’s what I’m working - uh… uh - trying to work on.”

You wanted to roll your eyes. “Aliens don’t exist. Just shut up and fuck me.”

“I know, I know…I didn’t… I didn’t actually need your help but you’re hot and - oh fuck… you’re pussy is perfect.”

Shut the fuck up and do NOT ruin this. Your thoughts were trying to keep you on track to at least getting an orgasm out of this asshole, so you tried to play along. “So what? You’re like a… like a Fox Mulder Alien X-Files guy but real?”

“Yeah,”, he nodded. “Some-something like thaaaa - oh fuck, you close, baby?”

This was painfully bad sex. You were getting poorly fucked in the backseat of some federal assholes’s sedan and he was going to blow his load before you were really even wet with something other than his saliva.

“Yeah… sure.”, you mumbled as he whined softly and rutted into you.

A few more thrusts and Dave pulled out and let out a long, loud, open mouth groan right into your face. His cum covered your mound and disappointment wasn’t a strong enough word for what just happened.

Before you could make a comment or push him off you in the most insulting way possible, your eyes caught movement over Dave’s shoulder in the window. It was Mrs. Von Beavertrout, but her eyes looked a little larger and her mouth was open, baring her unnecessarily long, beaver-like teeth.

“What the fu-” was all you got out before the old woman smashed the glass and a blinding light enveloped the cab of the vehicle.

You heard Dave scream and felt his body get ripped off of you as he was sucked out the window.

And then it was dark again. The only sound was your shaky breathing and the light wind running through the grass outside. You were alone.

Dave York made you believe, even if he didn’t make you cum.

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