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hatterstan-shameblog · 3 years

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Nobody asked for this but I'm gonna do it anyways...

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Fluff Alphabet: Takeru/Aguni Edition

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A = Attractive what do they find attractive about the other?

Takeru: only reason he let Aguni wear regular clothes and not swimwear is because he saw ARM in that tank top and was like "oh damn okay 😳." So, y'know, that. (And he'll never admit it but he kinda likes how Aguni is a little bit taller than he is....) Also likes that Aguni has a really dry, deadpan sense of humor—he ways finds a way to make Takeru laugh, even when he's not really trying.

Aguni: I think the physical aspect of things wasn't really a make-or-break for him at first—like, yeah, Takeru's a good-looking guy, but that's secondary. He liked how Takeru is such a live-wire, very loud and colorful and seemingly fearless, no matter what kind of trouble they got into. (But also...he likes the hair. That's a thing for him.)

B = Baby do they want a family? why/why not?

Takeru: If they end up with one somehow, then, sure. But, like. He's not going out of his was to make it a thing. (But also, he has his cat, Ziggy, who he calls his baby, so...)

Aguni: Would secretly love to be a dad but is too worried he might mess the kid up or something. Is more than happy to be 'unofficial parent' to the neighborhood kids, though. Handing out ice pops to the kids that show up at the shop, keeping an eye out and telling them to get home before dark, maybe even showing one or two of them how to throw a better curveball...you know. Real Hallmark channel shit. (And yes, for those who were wondering: Ziggy the cat loves him and often curls up on his lap while he watches TV)

C = Cuddle how do they cuddle?

They don't really "cuddle" outside of bed. Just kinda sit next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, no big deal. But in bed, Aguni lies on his back with his arm sorta outstretched while Takeru...well, my man is worm on a string but OFF the string, he just flops all sorts of ways and a lot of them don't look comfortable but he falls asleep in minutes so whatever.

D = Dates what are dates with them like?

I don't think they do "dates"—they've got a long-term thing going on, so they often end up on the couch eating takeout and watching movies. I think they'd go to the movie theater sometimes (and talk shit for the entire film lol) and every once in a while grab dinner somewhere nice...but, usually because they have some cool limited-time-only dessert item that Takeru insists they try. (And Aguni pretends to be upset about having to get dressed up and go out, but is actually rather pleased to have a little romance...and get something to satisfy his sweet tooth.)

E = Everything you are my ____ (e.g my life, my world…)

Aguni: Emergency Medical Contact

Takeru: Co-Signer On The Apartment Lease

F = Feelings when did they know they were falling in love?

Takeru: About a week after Aguni (drunkenly) confessed his crush. Literally spent a whole week like, "Wow, it's a shame I don't love him back. He's so kind and handsome and smart and funny...too bad, I guess..." until one night he sat up straight in bed and said "Hold up." He then immediately called Aguni and began demanding why Aguni didn't tell him he was in love with him this whole time.

Aguni: They had been friends since they were kids, so it's hard to say when his feelings went from "you're my best friend" to something different. But, once he figured it out, he swore never to mention it because that could complicate their friendship.

G = Gentle are they gentle? If so, how?

Takeru: Yes and no. He's got a bad case of "grabby hands" and often yanks Aguni to and fro to look at something or whatever. Just zero respect for the man's personal space. But otherwise...I imagine he's not particularly rough or gentle, just kind of normal. EXCEPT when it comes to the emotional stuff—like, the real heavy things. I think he's very gentle with that, not asking too many questions and just sort of taking care of him where he can.

Aguni: Generally gentle—physically, emotionally, whatever. But I do think that he's confrontational, like when there's an issue, he comes straight out and asks Takeru what's going on. Even corners him, sometimes. He seems like a "no bullshit" guy, and since Takeru is "Mr. 99% Bullshit" he's gotta deal with it as best he can.

H = Hand/Hold how do they like to hold hands?

The only time they "hold hands" is when Takeru is grabbing Aguni's wrist to drag him somewhere (or run away lol) and when Aguni is pulling Takeru's hand back to stop him from touching something...

I = Impression first impression/s

I headcanon that they met very young, like grade school age. After school, in the park, where Takeru was chilling in a tree and Aguni walked by and he was like "Hey, there's a spider up here, wanna see?" and Aguni is like "Not really, I don't like bugs..." Now, Takeru, being "weird bug kid extraordinaire" can't believe his strange little ears and hops down from the tree and starts explaining why bugs are so cool and that Aguni is wrong...and Aguni listens as this funky, tiny firecracker just talks his damn ear off. Aguni liked how excited Takeru got about things, and Takeru liked how Aguni actually listened to him. And they were fast friends after that!

J = Joker are they into pulling pranks?

Takeru fucks around all the time...and doesn't often find out, because Aguni tolerates all his antics. (To a certain point, but still.) Every once in a while, Aguni will tell some harmless little lie just to watch Takeru freak out—he told him once that Lady Gaga was leaving the music scene forever, and Takeru screamed so loud the neighbors filed a noise complaint.

K = Kisses how do they kiss?

I think they most often do quick pecks—at the breakfast table, when they get home from work. You know. Domestic stuff. But when it's not like that...I think 9/10 times it's Takeru initiating, and Aguni reciprocates by wrapping his arms around him in a big hug (because he likes it but also to keep that skinny little weirdo from wiggling so damn much, he's always moving, he can't just be still—)

L = Love who says I love you first?

Neither! I don't think they really say it at all! Why say something that doesn't need to be said? (At least, that's how they see it...)

M = Memory their favorite moment together

Aguni: It's not really a memory, but...just how they have breakfast together some mornings. Sipping coffee, discussing whatever's going on in the world, the general "togetherness" that comes with it is one of his favorite feelings.

Takeru: The time they spent a full 24 hours in a karaoke booth singing 80's hits and knocking back tequila shots and ordering way too much food.

N = Nickel do they spoil? do they buy the person they love everything?

Takeru: Absolutely buys stuff for Aguni all the time. Mostly random snacks, or little knick-knacks that catch his eye. And also clothes, but...Aguni doesn't always approve.

Aguni: Doesn't buy Takeru stuff BUT leaves vases of flowers he grew on the table for Takeru to find.

O = Orange what color reminds them of their other half

Anything bright and obnoxious reminds Aguni of Takeru—red in particular, which also happens to be Takeru's favorite. And Takeru thinks Aguni has calm and soothing blue-green vibes. Like the ocean, beautiful and serene, but also dark and capable of incredible destruction.

P = Petnames what pet names do they use?

Takeru: All of them. Darling, babe, sweetheart (but he calls everyone those lol). Aguni-specific ones are always over-the-top and ridiculous like "brightest star in all of the heavens..." and he always gets an eye-roll for his efforts.

Aguni: Absolutely does not use pet names. Just says "hey you" or something. Once called Takeru "babe" and Takeru had to stop washing dishes and sit down because he was laughing so hard.

Q = Quaint what is their favorite non-modern thing?

Takeru: I feel like he would collect a ton of vintage stuff—clothes, records, just random little bits and bobs he comes across. But his favorite is definitely his record player—it belonged to his dad, and he keeps it in a place of honor in the hat shop.

Aguni: A set of very old and well-cared-for gardening tools. Takeru got them for him for his birthday, and he legit treasures them.

R = Rainy Day what do they like to do on a rainy day?

Lay on the couch and do literally nothing. Takeru gets the left end, Aguni takes the right, and they binge trash TV shows all day. (And also they make box-mix brownies and eat them straight out of the pan. It's "their thing.")

S = Sad how do they cheer themselves/each other up

Takeru: Aside from all his self-destrictive behaviors (binge-drinking, dangerous situations, etc.) he just really needs a good laugh. And Aguni somehow always manages to make him laugh with an unexpected, deadpan comment. Also, he makes Takeru actually talk through his problems instead of ignoring them...

Aguni: if he's in a bad mood, you just need to let him work through it on his own. He hates being "talked down to" and feels that most attempts at cheering up are cheap, so most people don't attempt. Buf...Takeru is not "most people" and breaks out his most ridiculous jokes to try to get Aguni to crack a smile.

T = Talking what do they love to talk about?

Other people! You know Takeru is the "XOXO Gossip Girl" of the neighborhood, but Aguni...he's like a little old church lady and ADORES hearing all the latest drama.

U = Unencumbered What helps them relax?

Both of them have the same method of relaxation and it's...bubble baths! Aguni does a basic, skin soothing soak and just hangs out in the warm water with a book or maybe just his thoughts to keep him company. But Takeru? He's got some fancy bath soaps, and he takes in a glass of wine and lights a few candles and does a face mask and it's a whole EVENT.

V - Very thoughts about each other

Takeru: Thinks Aguni needs to loosen up and take more risks...but also just loves the guy to pieces.

Aguni: Kinda wishes Takeru would calm tf down sometimes...but also knows that it's just how the guy is and wouldn't dare change him.

W = Wedding when, how, where do they propose?

They're not really the marrying type! They just have a mutual understanding of commitment and that's that.

(But if they did have a wedding... I think it would be a relatively small affair with all their closest friends and family. Like a dinner party, but somewhere extra nice and with lots of good food and alcohol. Intimate and meaningful, with just enough "extra" to satisfy Takeru.)

X = Xylophone What’s their song?

"Total Eclipse of the Heart" because they hid out in a karaoke booth (different from the 24-hour event that Takeru cherishes so much) to es ape the Yakuza and Takeru sang it over and over to pass the time.

Y = You the ___ to my ___ (e.g the cookies to my milk, the macaroni to my cheese)

"Breaking" to my "Entering." The "Assault" to my "Battery." (They both hate this sort of thing and try to come up with the worst answers possible lol)

Z = Zebra if they wanted a pet, what pet would they get?

They already have the cat, Ziggy, who is their perfect little angel.

#alice in borderland #hatter #danma takeru #alice in borderland netflix #imawa no kuni no alice #imawa no kuni no arisu #writings and such #hatter/aguni #aguni morizono

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scrawnytreedemon · 3 years

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Shit I’ve Been Winding Up For A Long Time Now But Am Very Aware Will Probably Hold No Relevance Should I Actually Go Into This More--

This is about Bhunivelze.

You know, when I was chilling out, on my bed, that evening on that half term in early June, deciding to check up on ClementJ64′s FF retrospective because-- Hey! It’s been awhile, I wonder if he’s got around to doing the final bit of the FFXIII saga --You know, I was there, chilling, just for a laff. Just a laff.

The rest of that week was spent spiralling into a hyperfixation I absolutely did not anticipate in any way, shape, or form, because the way they introduced that character was “wwhdhfjjhHJDFJKHKJHW H A T??”

That retrospective and a good amount of wiki-scrounging is all I have as a basis for this. This is not a coherent character analysis-- Though I might tag it as that for ease of access. This is not, by any means, the thoughts of someone deeply familiar with FFXIII on the whole beyond plot synopses and overarching themes.

I don’t think I’m brave enough for that.

Reading the vast yet surface-deep lore on those wiki pages on my birthday while in a delirious state of mind was enough to make me somewhat nauseous.

Do you think I’m going to go through all of that in real time?

(Someday, someday.)

Ugh, I don’t know how to begin, but let us, I guess. I’d recommend you read this church-mime-demiurge’s FF Wiki page if you want the same level of base-knowledge I had, and maybe the aformentioned retrospective if you want the experience, because I don’t think I have the wherewithal to get into all of that from the bottom-up.

I am also, so, so fucking sorry for any remaining FFXIII fans in advance. There is like, a good chance I may be butchering the characterisation completely, so bear with me here.

With that... we begin?

Where do we even start with this guy?

How on earth to you begin to explain the absolute monolith you’ve constructed from crumbs of a Guy, some material no doubt spliced in from the Pale King, Sephiroth, y o u r o w n G o d O C and other characters, and the mountains of religious trauma you carry around at all times that is probably the only reason you’ve been able to latch on as hard as you did?

I’m going to try.

What gets me, in summary, about Bhunivelze is how he’s a prime example of how love and concern can become deadly forces if in the wrong hands. His first acquainting with human emotion was by deceiving and possessing Hope, reverting his body to a teenage state, and planning to live among humanity through him. He sees human sorrow and suffering, and decides that, to End This(because it must be ended, you see) he’s going to destroy all the souls of the deceased that make up the Chaos that’s been eating this world for the past five-hundred years so they all forget and Are Happy. :).

Capital G God here hasn’t been present for the vast part of human history because he’s hidden himself away from Everything due to paranoia from killing his own mother and throwing her body into the Cosmic Basement, THEN creating the beings that would come to create humanity and OTHER beings because he didn’t have the keys to the cosmic basement. And also he believes death is a thing because she’d’ve somehow cursed all things to pass(including him) out of Spite.

Which explains why he’s so fucking averse to it and anything to do with it.

Bhunivelze, to put it lightly, is Shit at stepping into others’ shoes and Getting their experiences-- All the FalCie in FFXIII are, but him especially. It’s clear(again, in the f u c k i n g JP--) that he makes attempts to sympathise with them and does what he can to help, but it’s with such a loftiness and a complete inability to Understand why anyone would want grief, The Worst Fucking Experience In Existence, and even less why they’d be willing to Go Up Against Him And HisThe New Perfect World just for it-- And what would it matter, anyway, forgetting their loved ones. It’s not like you can grieve lost memories, right?

Right.

It reminds me of when at the end of the story of Job in the Bible, where, after putting this man through hell on earth, God rewards Job by giving him ten new children to make up for the ones that he lost. I. And that’s fucked! Nothing can replace the sheer uniqueness of each individual person you loved so dearly! But if you were a nigh-omnipotent deity high and mighty, with a cursory, almost mechanical knowledge on the functionings of the human psyche, that would seem adequete; enough.

Bhunivelze is doing that on a cosmic level.

I now want to get onto the romance: that being, his affections for Lightning. I don’t know how much I’m going to say, but it’ll probably be alot. It’s something that hits very close to home.

There is this... thing, within certain branches of Christianity, perhaps even in those of various Abrahamic faiths, where God’s love is posited to be the love-- The ultimate, most-fulfilling, all-encompassing love you could ever imagine --Because, well, he is love, so the story goes, and so often the best way to convey that is through the imagery of...

Marriage.

Giving up yourself so completely, to serve, to be the Bride; to be bound by him for all eternity; and for there to be no higher bliss than this.

This angle is pushed on young girls and women the most; from the mere parallels to the woman’s role in marriage, all the way down to downright-horrifying ultra-Evangelical purity pacts. With men, God is your dad, your best bud and confidant, your boss, your king, your this, your that, and the ‘marriage‘ as it were is relegated to a sort of half-thought; a metaphor.

For me, God was an attempt at all that, and my arranged groom.

(It was almost incestuous; was incestuous, that my own Divine Father would reach for my hand in marriage.)

Bhunivelze experiences Emotions™ for the first time through Hope, experiences Hope’s sheer overwhelming admiration for Lighting(whether there were any baby-crush feelings mixed in, I can’t say), and promptly falls into a nigh-romantic obsession with Lightning, deciding that she will be Etro(his all-but daughter)’s replacement, will be his Goddess of Death to-be-- He even calls her as such, before the final boss-battle--

...In the JP.

What happened in localisation, probably due to a number of factors, all the way back in early 2014, was that everything emotionally challenging about Bhunivelze was scraped off, like it was extra fat, and tossed aside, leaving us with the bland, clichéd shell of a foe-god we’ve seen time and time again. And I mean everything. I mean his very love for humanity; the fact his ploy was, in his eyes, to save them. Because if they’d left that all on, then it would raise the question of even if there was such a seemingly pure, all-knowing, loving being hell-bent on setting things “straight,“ would they truly be unquestionable? Would we have the right to fight for our humanity in the face of the Creator of the Universe?

To reject a love so personal?

That’s what gets me about FFXIII’s tackling of God, no matter how hackneyed and poorly-executed. It’s personal.

It’s from a feminine experience.

I know that terming is... vague, and problematic, but the way Christianity and much of the video game industry handle femininity itself is weird and problematic, so as it stands, I’ll have to simplify it. Apologies.

What sets FFXIII’s Let’s Kill God™ plot aside from most JRPG Let’s Kill God™ plots is that with our protagonist being a woman, and one who is very in touch with her femininity alongside her sheer strength; often, in these stories, God is reduced to Yet Another Foe, expected or unexpected, and you are tasked with taking him down unquestioningly for the Good of Mankind-- You will fight God, because you are right to, and you will go man-to-man-to-however-many-men you decide to bring along for the bloodbath.

And that just, doesn’t speak to me.

Even as an Extian.

Especially as an Extian. And an AFAB one with a deeply complicated experience with my gender, at that.

Leaving Christianity was painful. Questioning God was painful. Coming to terms with the fact that I had been mentally, emotionally, and spiritually traumatised under the guise of All-Encompassing Love was so, so fucking painful. I had been taught since I was five years old to devote myself to him, spent my life desperate to feel something, anything, to stay connected because I just, I never could Feel It on a deeper level, never could Give Up Myself, all I was, couldn’t Die A Spiritual Death And Be Reborn As His Eager Vessel, thus deeming myself to be worthless and a broken vessel for years and years on end... And for all that to have been... Nothing.

Lightning is hollowed out, the shards of her dead sister ripped from her in-stasis, leaving her emotionally numb for the majority of the game, Bhunivelze sweeps it under the rug, pretends he’ll perform a miracle and return Serah to life in exchange for her compliance, then sends her on her way to do his work, all the while knowing he’s going to pull said-rug from under her and elevate her such dizzying heights in the aftermath--

That he’ll deny her humanity.

Sand down all the rough edges that make her her, and polish her up afterwards, gild her as he is gilded, make her a Goddess.

And he’ll do it all because he loves her.

You can’t fight God like you can everything else. To fight It is the fight Existence Itself; FFXIII even conveys that by making Bhunivelze’s model part of the arena; it’s baked into the fabric of the game, no matter how minute.

While Lightning Returns is far from perfect in its execution of this concept, and that in itself makes me wince, not even taking into account the horribly botched excuse for a localisation Bhunivelze endured, it speaks to me more than anything else I’ve seen so far.

And it’s helped uncover some things within me. Helped me untangle them, just a little more.

So, yeah. I have alot of Thoughts on Bhunivelze, I want to share them, and I’m kinda really sad I have no one but my currently-absent friend Vee to share them with. I could get into alot more, like his very Fucked relationship with familial bonds, and how Lightning’s role as saviour so deeply parallels the overwhelming panic and never-ending guilt of Evangelical proselytisation, but I think I’ll leave those for another time.

In short, Bhunivelze is the epitome of Divine Love gone deeply wrong; on all fronts.

And if all of that isn’t enough to intrigue you, then, in Vee’s words, Lightning and Velze are literally canon endgame Sefikura lmaOOOOOOOOOOOOOO--

#ffxiii #lightning returns #bhunivelze #analysis #scrawny speaks #scrawny rambles #this was written on and off over the course of a couple months #i know this will only get two notes #if even that #but fuck it i love this guy and i'm going to puke words for his sake #religion mention

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cautionworks · 3 years

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Okay, so I wanted to write some NSFW Headcanons for Hisoka. All of these headcanons I said are purely based on my interpretation. I have read some other Hisoka headcanons before but I forgot about them a while ago. Plus I know nothing about actual sex. So I'll have fun writing this. Here we go lol.

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

It depends on who's he with. If it was just a one-night stand he won't attempt to be comforting or try to care about the other party. The most He'll do is clean himself and nothing more. If he had a "significant other" that's a different story. He would cuddle the hell out of you. I imagine him as a clingy person (Which I hate). Once he's finished he just wants to fall asleep with you under his arms. He finds it relaxing to have your back against his chest. Especially when it's soft.

B = Body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

The back. I do not know why but I have the feeling that he would like a person's back. Especially if the person has slightly defined back muscles. Something about a person's back seems so vulnerable to Hisoka that he leans towards it whenever he’s behind someone he finds attractive. It's part of the reason why he likes to be behind people. Because he feels it's the most vulnerable place and he won't hesitate to take advantage of it when it comes to his enemies. Seriously don’t have this man around women with shirts that expose the backside. Or bikinis. He will not stop staring. Now I think about it I think he’ll like a virgin sweater.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically... I’m a disgusting person)

Hisoka will eat it/swallow it. He's no stranger when it comes to being nude in his abode. So him being in his natural self, he won't hesitate to taste his own or his partner's bodily fluid. (Not pee you weirdos).

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Hisoka is a secretive man. It's literally what his name means. When asked direct questions he'll find a way to dodge them without seeming suspicious. And he's a liar. But when it comes to the bedroom. It's another side of him. He's not so secretive about it. It's just no one asks him about it and so he never felt the need to mention it. But when he did he will say it all. This man has done very risque things in his life. He once fucked a girl in an office building right after he killed her boss. There’s was a huge gathering of people including the girl's boyfriend. And he did it in one of those rooms where there's a glass that's see-through on one side and the other is not. Which the boyfriend happened to be there. You can guess which side he did it on. In the end, that girl was left with the time of life of her life and the loss of her partner and her job.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Extremely experienced. I'm sorry I'm a firm believer that Hisoka got laid many times by various women and men. If he's so strategic and calculated in fighting people then it's no surprise that he has skills in the bedroom. Plus he needs the release. I can't imagine how bored and frustrated he is when he can't kill anyone or there are no strong opponents. So it's understandable that he looks for partners to ease his stress. If there's nobody available at the moment. Then he will do what any man would do. Le master debate.

F = Favorite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Again this one depends on who's he with. If he just with one of his late-night booty calls he would do the normal doggy style. If he's with someone he's heavily interested in. He will do all sorts of positions. His favorite position is where he can always see your face. Because one he wants to know if he's doing a good job. Two. He likes to watch your face morph into different facial expressions as he touches you in different ways.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

He can be hella silly sometimes. If he's having sex with you for a while he will feel comfortable being playful. Of course, he can be serious if he needs to. But that rarely ever happens. The only times he would get serious if he was actively trying to get you pregnant for whatever reason. Which is not an issue. He uses bungee gum. It contains rubber and gum. Free condoms everyone. (Lol)

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Oh hell yeah the carpet matched the drapes! You were surprised that it was the same hair color as his hair. You were so in disbelief that you considered that he just dyed it. Which was not the case. Let's just say Hisoka likes to keep things short. Normally you would find it to be shaved. Yet, sometimes he'll leave some hair to grow. A little hair never really bothered him.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)

*sigh* This one depends. Ima skip this one because Hisoka is not romantic. Just kidding. Because I think he would be good in the bedroom, I think he CAN be a romantic partner. Romantic how? I don’t know he can be that’s all there’s to it. (Talk about laziness)

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He does it more often than the average person. Like I said in my (E = Experience) Hisoka would do it if there’s nobody available at the moment. What I didn’t say is where and when he would do it. He’ll do it anywhere. This man has no shame. He will do it in a church, public bathroom, or hospital bed. Inside or out. It did not matter to him. Unless if it was raining. That would be his own little rule but he breaks it all the time. For some reason, many opportunities for sex happened to be on rainy days. When? He’ll do it even when he has a mission to do with Illumi. If he’s in the middle of a job and He's in horni mode. He’ll find a way to release without anyone knowing. He could do it right in front of a person without them knowing. Sometimes he just stands there with an orgasmic face on. The only way he’s able to masturbate in public is because he is using bungee gum. I know for a fact he’s use’s this ability in his sexual encounters with people especially for himself. This man could just stand there and you wouldn’t know if he was just being weird or he’s just doing it again.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

KINK SHAMING IS HIS KINK! I’m just kidding. Without a doubt, Hisoka would have one or two kinks. Bondage. Bondage. Bondage. As boring and well known this kink is. It makes sense at least to me it does. Hisoka bungee gum ability can grab, stick or even trap a person. So he finds pleasure in watching his partner's skin be wrapped in his bungee gum. He has so much control over it. How tight it can be. How rubbery or gummy it can be depending on the situation.Another thing I’d like to say. Hisoka is A SADIST AND MASOCHIST. He likes giving and receiving pain. That’s just how it is.

L = Location (Favorite places to do they do)

Anywhere that has a good spot to fuck you against something. Any surface that he can place you on. But if he were to have a “favorite place” it would be in places that are morally wrong to do or somewhere exciting like a carnival/circus. Hisoka hasn’t set limits to himself so usually, it's his partner that sets the boundaries.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

If he sees you in revealing clothing (Especially if your back is completely exposed) his wood is rising. You could just be lying on your stomach on the couch, scrolling on the phone. If you’re wearing a bra or nothing on and Hisoka happens to be there. There’s no doubt he'll find ways to lay his hands on you. It's not just the back that could turn him on. THIGHS AND HAMSTRINGS will have the man going. In particular, he likes it when it's Thicc/meaty. My man likes dem Thicc thighs. (Lol)

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

This one is only one of my most important headcanons ever. And I won’t accept anything other than this. Rape/Noncon. Hisoka does not find any joy in forcing himself on his partners. It’s not fun for him if his partner isn’t enjoying it either. The biggest turn-off for him would have to be anything related to bodily wastes like pee or poo.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Oh, he likes receiving it more than giving it. But that doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy giving his significant other pleasure too. I would say his skill level is pretty good. Let’s just say when he does it, it's more than enough to please his partner. When he receives it expect lots of hair pulling and heavy groans.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Fuck! It depends on his mood. Normally he likes to do it slow and sensual. But on a bad day, he does it rough and fast. A Good example of this was after Chrollo told him he can not use nen. Hisoka kept his emotions to himself. The only face he allowed himself to show was his normal displeased face. But inside he’s pissed. Once he leaves the troupe he heads back to his partner's place and sleeps with them. At least he released his frustration without killing anyone. (Omg Imagine fucking Hisoka was the leading cause of people still alive) Other than that he just aggressively masturbates.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

*Deep inhaling* Hisoka IS THE KING OF QUICKIES. He’s a master at it. While he’s patient for riping fruits he rarely has patience for sexual activities. He's on the go constantly. If he finds someone that catches his eye he’ll go after them. So a nice quickie is great and all but it doesn’t entirely satisfy him. Because it doesn’t satisfy him overall, a proper well spent “shagging” (This will be the first and last time I’ll ever write “Shagging”) He’s happy. Just happy that he can give his all. Which he can not do often.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Absolutely! Hisoka has his life on gamble all the time. Whether it may be life-threatening or a simple card game. Risking taking is his character. Even if it's too crazy. He’ll do it anyway. He's an exhibitionist for sure. He’ll let people watch as long no one touches his partner.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)

To my knowledge. IRL men need a break after sex. In the show, Hisoka was able to clear the hunter's exam easily. So we know Hisoka has a lot of endurance than the average human. He’s stronger and faster. So that means Hisoka will not get tired after one round of sex. I think he can go at least 10 rounds. Of course, Hisoka would get tired at some point. He’s still human. Hisoka just has a lot of stamina. And that’s a fact.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Yall are probably gonna hate me for this but Hisoka doesn’t own toys. If his partner wants it during their time together, he will not hesitate to get it/use it. He doesn’t feel the need to use it since he’s very confident in his ability to please his partner without the use of toys. For himself? if wants something inside him then he’ll just look for a guy that’s decent for his standards. But that doesn’t stop him from using a dildo/vibrator for himself.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Hisoka is a sadistic devil. He can be cruel sometimes. One time he had this girl close to climax and he stopped in the middle of it. Or He would cause arousal to his partner and pretend it was all an accident. He’s a huge teaser. He likes to watch his partner be in ecstasy and switch to fits of anger.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

He’s a fucking whale. (LMAO) He’s the reason why kids know what moans sound like. He’s hella vocal in his private moments. He so loud that almost every troupe member recognizes his moans every time they hear them. But that doesn’t mean he can’t be quiet. Contrary to popular belief, Hisoka can be dead silent when he needs to be. He can be quiet as a mouse. Even quieter than the mouse. Now, what does he sound like? Well, we all heard his moans his fights. But I think it's different. I think his moans in fights are different while masturbating/sex. Just a slight difference. His moans would be more intense and he's a heavy breather. His tone of moans is a bit feminine with a tint of masculinity. He has the best of both worlds.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He likes to have pictures of you. Like a lot. He has a private gallery full of pictures of you on his phone. That’s why this time he actually takes care of his phone. He’s prone to get his phone destroyed in his missions. So he’s much careful with it now. These pictures can range from cute photos of you and him together to butt naked pics of you not looking.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture, or words)

Now you horny Hisoka Simps think he has a 12-inch dick but I don’t think that’s the case. (I mean come on) I know there are Chinese HxH fans who took the time to measure his length by looking at manga panels. Based on what I found. Hisoka is 5 inches long (aroused) and 6 inch Inches long (aroused). To make him above “Average”. He is 6 inches long (aroused) and 7 inches Inches long (aroused). Beyond that I don’t know how a female or male have can have a size like that fit in them. Or maybe I’m not educated enough on this topic. I don’t know and I don’t care.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Very High. A lot of people who write Hisoka smut fics tend to make him a horny bastard. For me, I think that is the case. But my reasons are different. As I said in my E = Experience. Hisoka would look for partners to ease his stress. His obsession with finding/fighting strong opponents takes a toll on his mental and physical state. So once he can't think of another outlet for his tremendous amounts of energy, he'll use it to please himself with different partners.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

I'm going to say that depends on the person. If he only did 2-3 rounds of sex with an average person he's not going to fall asleep easily. Eventually, he will. Due to being bored and little tiredness. If he were to do it with a skilled nen user like Machi. He would get tired a lot more.

Oh woah that took forever to write! Let me just say it again this is purely my own headcanons. The questions are not mine only my answers. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!

#hisoka x machi #machi x hisoka #hisokansfw #nsfwheadcanons #hisoka headcanons #hisokansfwheadcanons

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windhamsrotunda · 3 years

Text

HANGMAN ADAM PAGE - TAKE ME TO CHURCH PART TWO

Pairing: Adam Page x Y/N

Category: SMUT // ANGST.

Summary - Right after Hangman Adam Page confesses his secret love for Y/N, things get a little heated. ~~~

Warning(s) - 18+ READERS ONLY! SMUT, AND LANGUAGE.

WORD COUNT - 1K+

REQUESTED BY - @lghockey!

Tagging: @adriii-omega, @abadamn, @ringer04, @justamess44, @luciddrreamss, @wardlowobsessed, @warinhisname, @demonqueen29, @writtingrose, @omegabaybay etc.

"So, you never have made love to anyone before?" Questioned Adam out of nowhere. Y/N turned her attention to her boyfriend, Adam. She gasped, "Uh--- no, not really." She bit her lip, fumbling with her keys. "Would you like for me… to show you sometime how to do it the right way?" His voice lingering with lust. This was a hint, an actual hint of "I want to have sex with you." hint. Smiling darkly, he walked past Y/N and smacked her lightly on her bum. "Take me to church." She stood there, her cardigan slipping off over her shoulders. "Later." He added, smirking. She never had a love making session, ever. Not even with any guy. She knew she was still a virgin. "I want to let you know, I'm still a virgin." Y/N explained, tucking her hair behind her ear as she turned the conversation into a heated one. Adam grasped the drink in his hand, and eyes went on his girlfriend. "So, you're telling me, you never had sex?" "Well, yeah." She replied, very humiliated.

"I'm going to turn that around for you, sweetie." "But not right now, you're gonna have to wait." He chuckled lightly, "But Adam----" He cut Y/N off, "No but's, love. You're gonna get punished sooner or later if you keep having that mouth of yours complaining." He warns, grabbing the jaw of his girlfriend. "You're mine later. Got that?" She nodded, showing no fear in her eyes. Letting go of her jaw, it left her jaw sore from Adam's grip. "He's teasing you, Y/N!" She thinks in the back of her head, trying to play the game Adam is playing. He walked away, leaving her wanting him.

It was 12am, Y/N was laying in her bed. She layed there stiff, wondering what Adam Page had in store. He told her he was going to be back, he had to go do an errand or some sort. A few minutes of waiting, she got a text. It read: Adam: "So sorry to keep you waiting, honey. I know you want that big c*ck stuffed in you. Wait until I get home." She didn't text back, all she did was bit her lip. Trailing a hand down her pants, she softly moaned out Adam's name, imagining it was him actually doing it. She hissed as her finger slid inside of her, pumping it slowly. Waiting and waiting, she finally climaxed under the sheets. Suddenly, a door handle turned. Shit! -----

The door swung open, it was Adam with big glasses of champagne in his hands. "Are you fucking serious?" He seemed shocked, but very angry. "What in the fuck are you doing Y/N?" He questioned, his voice starting to fill with rage. "Nothing!" She lied, trying to cover up. Adam slowly set the champagne glasses down for him and Y/N, then walked over to her --- "Get on the floor and get on your knees." He demands, dominant voice in mind. "Yes." Was all she could say, when she got on her knees, Adam slapped her. "Are you going to explain yourself? Hmm?" He waited calmly for a response. "Y-yeah… I was just masturb*ting." She admitted. "Oh, about who and why?" "A-about you Adam… I imagined your big d*ck stuffed in me, and how you'd fuck me." She was on the verge of tears, looking up at Hangman. "I-I'm so sorry." She stutters. Adam's facial expression turned into a neutral face. "I love you so much, Y/N. But you're still going to get punished." Without continuing on his talk, he pulled his jeans down, then shoved Y/N's face into his crotch. "Fucking suck." He demands, Y/N bobbed her head, taking him all in.

Adam shot his head up to the sky, and moaned. "God. God!" He exclaimed in pleasure. "You're so good at this for a beginner, Y/N." He gripped her head close to his length, muffled crying was heard from her. She did it until he came. "Good girl." He then bent her over on all fours on the floor, and gripped her braided hair, sliding inside her tight hole. "ADAM!" She screamed, pounding inside her. "You know, Y/N. You're my first too." He confessed, grunting in her ear. Her eyes went wide, "O-oh real-ly?" She moaned, tears of pleasure stinging her cheeks. The faster he went, the more closer he was close to c*mming. He then slid out and came on the floor. "Mhm, fuck." He whispered to himself, "You're mine, I told you this before. And you're going to be mine forever and beyond. I love you." He proposed, kissing her hard. Leaving her very sore, she could see stars. "I love you too." She smiled weakly, then he came to the aid of Y/N to cuddle her. Stroking the back of her head, Adam kissed her again.

"You're so drop dead gorgeous." He whispered, reminding her how gorgeous she was on the inside. "And you are handsome." She smiled widely, intertwining fingers with him. Laying her head on his shoulder, she heaved a long sigh. "What's wrong?" Questions Adam in curiosity and concern. "Oh nothing, it has just been a long long day." Y/N had undid her braids, revealing her blonde, curly wavy hair. "Alright." Was what he said --- "Time to go to sleep, lovely." He yawns, "All that sex tired me out." She agreed with him, walking over to the bedroom, then flipping off the light. "Hey! I can't see!" Laughed Adam, then coming from right behind her, scooping her up in his arms in the dark. "I'm so lucky to have you apart of my life." He smiles. "Me too." Walking over to the bed, she rolls in the bed with Adam, and gave both each other kisses for the last time of the night. Y/N knew Adam was the one to have; But nothing could change that, it was Hangman Adam Page and Y/N Against The World.

#all elite wrestling #aew imagine #aew #aew fanfiction #adampageoneshot #adam page x reader #adam page fanfiction #adampage #aew one shot #aewimagine #cowboyshit

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three-houses-text-files · 5 years

Text

byleth/dorothea

c-s support + paired ending + night of the ball

D: Well, I had fun today. Of course, you'll want to see me again, yes? NPC: O-of course! I'd love to, Dorothea! D: Well, until we meet again! D: Oh! Hello, Professor. Were you...watching that?

>That's a different guy than I saw you with yesterday.

D: Yes... Is there a problem with that?

>...

D: You look like you have something to say, Professor.

D: Look, I know what I'm doing. My acclaim as a diva won't last forever, after all. I must look to the future. D: As a man, you may not feel so rushed about these things, but I know my beauty will eventually fade. (m!byleth) D: You might think about doing the same thing. Your beauty—and you're gorgeous—won't last forever. (f!byleth)

>We all feel anxiety about aging.

D: You? Really? I never would have guessed.

>Getting older doesn't bother me at all.

D: I wish I could be that easygoing.

D: Anyway, I'm not just playing games with these boys. This is for my future. You have no right to object. D: I very much want to find a good partner here at the academy. Someone who will take care of me for the rest of my life.

>Do what you will.

D: I'm glad you understand. Not everyone appreciates the necessity of taking the initiative while you're still in your prime.

D: Or are you just saying that?

>Is that really what you want?

D: Finding someone to take care of me? Of course it is!

D: Who could ask for anything more?

D: Anyway, I value your opinion, Professor, but I won't have you interfering with my life plans. D: Unless you'd like to take care of me into my old age? That'd be something, eh? How about it, Professor?

>OK.

D: I wasn't— You aren't being serious, are you? I was just teasing.

D: Or did you really just consider spending your whole life with me?

D: If you did that...that actually makes me... It makes me happy. I had no idea you might look at me that way.

>I don't think so.

D: The thought hadn't crossed my mind before, but come to think of it...that might sound pretty nice. D: You've gotten awfully quiet... You might even be blushing a bit. Have I embarrassed you? D: If so, I'm very, very sorry. I should be going anyway. I'll see you later... Professor.

——————————————————————————————

D: ...

>What's wrong?

>Troubles with love?

D: Professor?! I— Oh...don't worry. It's nothing. D: ... D: Actually, could we talk for a bit? Somewhere a little more...private? D: ... D: I'm just gonna come right out and say it. I find you a little difficult to be around. D: I know, I know. I'm your student and you're just trying to watch out for me. D: But the way you look at me sometimes...it's like you're seeing right through me.

>I'm sorry.

D: No, don't apologize. I know you don't mean anything bad by it. I'm just self-conscious, I guess.

>Seeing through you?

D: Don't worry. I know you don't mean anything bad by it. I'm just too self-conscious, I guess.

D: The thing is, I don't have anything to call my own. No land, no birthright, no fortune. Little knowledge or battle skill. D: I think that's why I always clung to my popularity as a diva. Even after leaving the stage behind, I sort of kept up the act. D: When I look at you, it's like your eyes are accusing me... Telling me that you see right through it. D: That's what I mean when I say it's difficult being around you. D: Hey, uh, this might be nuts, but maybe you could show me some kind of weakness of yours?

>Excuse me?

D: You know my biggest fear. If I know one of yours, maybe I'll feel less, I don't know...vulnerable.

>I have no weaknesses.

D: Oh, come on, Professor. Everyone has some kind of weakness.

D: You know mine. If I know one of yours, maybe I'll feel less, I don't know...vulnerable.

>Well, if it would really help...

D: Excellent. Well then, don't mind me. D: You know, Professor, I never hear any gossip about you. Of a romantic nature, I mean. D: Would I be right in assuming you're not very... experienced with romance? Maybe we should find out somehow... D: I bet I know your weakness. It's not mental, is it? It's physical! You're ticklish! Here, I'll prove it. D: That's right. The next time you gaze into my soul, I know just how I'll retaliate! D: Um... Professor? What's with you? Why aren't you reacting to anything I'm doing? D: Oh, come on! Is your heart even beating? You're making me lose my confidence... D: Come on! I thought that was funny. I swear, it's like your heart isn't even beating.

>Sorry.

D: That's all right. I didn't really think a little tease like that would be enough to get to you, anyway.

D: Though it does still make me lose just a little confidence in my own charms...

D: Though I was giving it my all. You're pretty tough to resist that.

>Actually, my heart isn't beating.

D: Ha, don't be so silly... Huh? It really isn't beating?!

D: Is what I'd say if I were more gullible. You're just fooling around, Professor. I'm not sure how you did it, but that was a good one.

——————————————————————————————

D: This may seem a bit sudden, but...I want to thank you, Professor. D: That is, for letting me live my life the way I want. D: I've noticed you've been giving me fewer of those soul-revealing gazes lately. D: I appreciate you making an effort to not trouble yourself over who I spend my time with.

>So, you found me out...

D: Well, of course. Did you think I wouldn't notice? It's kind of sweet, in its own way.

>I don't know what you mean.

D: If you say so... But I notice you doing it all the same. It's kind of sweet, in its own way.

D: Professor, may I tell you a story about when I was younger? D: I was an orphan, living in the back alleys of Enbarr, until one day I was overheard singing... D: That was when my new life began. I was suddenly a songstress in the Mittelfrank Opera Company. D: Performers, nobility... I met so many people. But none of them ever really knew me. D: I was just some young, pretty girl who could sing, a spectacle to be admired. D: Even though everyone praised my looks and my voice, and they showered me with gifts... D: I knew, one day, I'd be old. My looks would fade, my voice would change, I wouldn't sound the same. D: And I started to wonder, when I did get old, what would I have left? D: I'd be old, alone...and back on the streets of the capital, right where I'd started.

>I don't believe that's true.

D: You can never be certain about what the future will bring.

>I won't let you be alone.

D: That's sweet of you, even if you are just flirting.

D: I never had much to begin with in life, and I worry that one day, I'll be that way again... D: That's why I keep searching for someone who will love me. D: Someone unaware of the songstress, who can love a girl that used to be scared and alone on the streets of the capital... D: I wonder if such a strange person can even exist.

——————————————————————————————

D: Oh, is this where you've been? Everyone's looking for you. D: With the war over, I'd like to think they'd at least give you a few days' rest. D: Don't worry, I won't tell them you're here. D: It's a rare occasion for me to have you all to myself.

>Not looking for a guy to share the victory with?

>Did you ever find your "strange person"?

D: No, I've given up on that. I realized there was no point. D: Besides, maybe the person I've been looking for is closer than I realized.* D: Besides, maybe the person I've been looking for is closer than I realized.* D: See...there is one person I must confess I'm just a little bit interested in.

>In that case...

D: What? Is that— That's a ring.

>It would be very embarrassing if I had the wrong idea, so I have to ask...

D: Are you proposing? Here? Now? T-to me? D: I don't know what to say. D: Are you sure? You want to spend your life with…me?* D: Are you sure? You want to spend your life with…me?* D: Even though I'm not a songstress anymore? And I don't come from a noble family or have any wealth or land to my name? D: You won the war. You could pick anyone in the world. Why would you... D: OK. I mean, yes. Yes! I love you madly, and I'd be happy to marry you! D: But if we're going to be married, I had better think up a cute nickname for you. Don't you think? D: Oh, I wonder what I should call you now... Darling? My beloved? So many options! D: I starred in so many operas where I captured the heart of my beloved... D: But I never dreamed that it would feel this wonderful when it actually happened. D: A life singing for you in a peaceful world... D: I imagine that life will be more wonderful than I ever could have hoped. D: I love you. D: I could never sing anything as pure as those three little words.

*i’m guessing the duplicates in this case are for different model codes, since dorothea can romance both m!byleth and f!byleth; maybe the action she does is different between genders?

——————————————————————————————

paired endings

After ascending to the throne as the first leader of the United Kingdom of Fódlan, Byleth announced hies/her marriage to Dorothea. The former songstress resolved to stay out of the public eye, keeping to herself and her family, but as Byleth worked tirelessly to restore Fódlan, she did offer advice from time to time. It is said that her experience growing up as a commoner provided a useful perspective. Many years later, her diary was uncovered, revealing the full extent of the happy life the couple shared. The love poems that they wrote to one another were published as a collection.

After taking on the role of archbishop of the Church of Seiros, Byleth announced his/her marriage to Dorothea. The former songstress resolved to stay out of the public eye, keeping to herself and her family, but as the archbishop worked tirelessly to restore Fódlan and the church, she did privately offer advice from time to time. It is said that her experience growing up as a commoner provided a useful perspective. Many years later, her diary was uncovered, revealing the full extent of the happy life the couple shared. The love poems that they wrote to one another were published as a collection.

Almost immediately after the modest wedding ceremony between Byleth and Dorothea was over, the battle against those who slither in the dark began in earnest. Dorothea chose not to take the field of battle with a weapon but rather to tend the household in her spouse's absence and provide emotional support to his/her effort to bring lasting peace to Fódlan. Many years after the war had ended, Dorothea's diary was uncovered, revealing the full extent of the happy life the couple shared. The love poems that they wrote to one another were published as a collection.

——————————————————————————————

night of the ball

D: Ah, Professor! You showed up!

>Why are you here?

D: Um, I'm the one who called you here, remember?

>Why do you look so happy?

D: Well, because you're here, of course!

D: You came here because you read the letter I sent you, right?

>Not that I recall...

>What letter?

D: Are you saying this is...a coincidence? D: How disappointing to think you didn't come here specifically to see me. D: Still, if we're meeting by complete chance... that has a certain appeal too. It's as if destiny brought us together! D: And tonight is the night of the ball... Lucky me.

>What are you plotting?

D: Plotting? That's a bit rude, don't you think?

>I thought you weren't comfortable around me...

D: Oh, that's just when you're looking through me in front of others. When it's just us...I kind of like it.

D: Originally, I wanted to see what you'd do when you read my letter. D: I just wanted to see if you'd come here like I asked. I had a feeling that you would. D: Though, I suppose you didn't even read the letter to begin with... D: I should just be thankful I wasn't left here waiting. All alone. Forever. D: Do you know it's been almost nine whole moons since you arrived at Garreg Mach? D: You must have found a special someone by now, haven't you, Professor?

>I have.

D: Ooh? Who could it be? You've made me so curious.

D: Oh, don't worry. I'm not going to pry if you don't want to share. Your private life is private, after all.

>I have not.

D: Uh-huh, right. I bet you're just hiding it. There's someone you're sweet on...

D: Don't you worry, I won't pry if you don't want to share. These things are private, after all.

>Is that what you wanted to talk about?

D: Are you changing the subject? Don't do that. Ohh, I bet that means you do have someone, don't you?

D: Don't you worry, I won't pry if you don't want to share. These things are private, after all.

D: Well, I oughta get going... D: I wouldn't want to be in the way if your special someone shows up. D: Either way, I do hope you'll share a dance with me later.

#fire emblem three houses spoilers #fe16 spoilers #fe3h spoilers #byleth x dorothea #dorothea x byleth #romantic

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queerlynx · 4 years

Text

tagged by @elinaline lets fucking go

1. What is the colour of your hairbrush?

my what (have you seen my hair, seriously)

2. name of a food you never eat?

garlic and i WILL die on that hill

3. are you typically too warm or too cold?

always too fucking warm. im literally never cold. people ask me 10x/day ‘arent you cold’ even tho ive told them 1000x that no, i am never cold

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago?

i think i was still at the shops or maybe getting ready to go to the shops?

5. what’s your favourite candy bar?

always a slut for a snickers

6. have you ever been to a professional sports event?

i dont think so? what would i do there anyways ……oh wait no i went along to a professional tennis game w my ex’s brother i think? i can barely remember it was like 6 years ago

7. what is the last thing you said out loud?

genuinely can’t remember even tho it was probs less than 15mn ago to my flatmate. most likely something about the cat being cute. or maybe it was TO the cat. who knows.

8. what is your favourite ice cream?

chocolate probably? or banana? banana and chocolate is also good

9. what is the last thing you had to drink?

lemonade cause thats all i drink

10. do you like your wallet?

it’s BB-8!!! so yeah of fucking course

11. what was the last thing you ate?

a bagel w blue cheese laughing cow, ham, and one of them shitty toastie super processed cheese slices

12. did you buy any new clothes last week?

me and whose money lmaoo i can barely afford food rn

13. last sporting event you watched?

nope

14. what’s your favourite flavour of popcorn?

recently ive discovered you can drizzle maple syrup on popcorn and oh boy. other than that probs salted caramel sauce. but like i almost never have popcorn

15. who was the last person you sent a message to?

im gonna assume this is any message and not just tumblr, in which case it was my fiancé @yearningcurve on whatsapp

16. ever go camping?

i love camping but last time i went was at least 6 years ago ):

17. do you take vitamins?

lol no

18. do you go to church every Sunday?

………moving swiftly on

19. do you have a tan?

i avoid sunlight like the plague so i’ll let you figure that one out

20. do you prefer Chinese food or pizza?

probs pizza but i like both

21. do you drink soda with a straw?

i chug it straight from the bottle lol who’s got the time

22. what colour socks do you wear?

im almost constantly barefoot unless i HAVE to put on shoes and even then i won’t always put socks on if i’m not gonna be outside for long

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit?

im always p much 5mph above the speed limit (fun fact, the display in cars shows your speed as roughly 2mph higher than it actually is, you can check it against a gps on your phone; AND speed cameras allow for +5mph anyway, so why the fuck wouldnt i be)

24. what terrifies you?

like in general?? people leaving me, rejecting me, abandoning me, cutting me out, hating me in secret; not being a good person or liked or useful; people thinking i’m annoying or embarrassing or ridiculous or boring; the list goes on

25. look to your left what do you see?

a very roumd and somft kitty :3

26. what chore do you hate?

anything administrative or on the phone. i dont think it counts as chores but i genuinely enjoy tidying and cleaning so.

27. what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent?

i cant tell an australian accent when i hear one

28. what’s your favourite soda?

lemonade, or fanta

29. do you go into fast food places or drive thru?

ever since ive gotten a car p much always drive thru cause why would i sit in a crowded fast food restaurant w screeching kids and angry karens when i could enjoy my disgusting feast in my own home???

30. who was the last person you talked to?

IRL that’d be my flatmate

t31. favourite cut of beef?

sirloin

32. last song you listened to?

Echoes by the Rapture, it played on my shuffle in my car and reminded me of how good Misfits was lmao

33. last book you read?

it would’ve been over seven or eight years ago. can’t remember.

34. can you say the alphabet backwards?

z y x w v u t s r q p o n m l k j i h g f e d c b a

apparently so but it took a while tbh

35. how do you like your coffee?

i mostly drink flat whites w hazelnut when i drink coffee but tbh despite being a barista w a professional grade home coffee machine i barely ever drink any outside of work lmao

36. favourite pair of shoes?

grinders boots AND my trans pride converses. can’t pick between them soz

37. the time you normally go to bed?

really is no normal. anytime between midnight and like up to 5am esp rn during lockdown. i never went to sleep last night actually i’ve been awake for like 28h now

38. the time you normally wake up?

see above. anytime between 10am and like 6pm depending on when i went to bed. outside of lockdown i would wake up exactly an hour before i have work, so anytime between 5am-11am

39. what do you prefer sunrise or sunsets?

sunsets but i really love both

40. how many blankets are on your bed?

one bedsheet and one soft blanket

41. describe your kitchen plates?

they’re green. nobody is surprised

42. do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage?

cider. i be drinkin that shit like its juice

43. do you play cards?

not really altho on lockdown i’ve taught my flatmates a french card/money game called Nain Jaune and they enjoy it so that makes me happy

44. what colour is your car?

dark red like……burgundy kinda?

45. can you change a tire?

probably not lol

46. your favourite province?

province of what lol. either way it’s Brittany.

47. favourite job you’ve had?

ive only ever had the one lmao so, barista it is

48. how did you get your biggest scar?

top surgery (’:

49. what did you do today that made someone happy?

fuck if i know. i guess i made coffee for my flatmates but like i do it everyday so they p much expect it by now i dont think it makes them any happier or like if it does they dont really say it rip

not a big fan of tagging ppl so just. do it if you wanna lol

#Also Sprach Loïs #txt #elinaline #long post

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mattskeebah · 5 years

Text

PLEASE READ

I know how much y’all hate “your fave is problematic” posts...but it’s necessary.

Summary: Matt Skiba, singer of the band Alkaline Trio and member of Blink-182, has nazi tattoos, is a fan of nazi bands, made tasteless nazi related paintings, is best friends with Boyd Rice, and in fact, owns nazi insignia. Matt claims to be a feminist but likes countless scantily clad pics of young models and sex workers and follows actual porn actresses on IG. Also, he never distanced himself from Asia Argento and still sells t-shirts with her face on them in his webstore. Matt supports the police and the military and he has a weird gun fetish. He attacked fans who criticized his behavior and his problematic associations.

---

WHY I STOPPED BEING A FAN OF MATT SKIBA

He supports the police as an instutition, specifically Chicago PD. He made a post on Instagram in favor of CPD which ofc received backlash from fans but he ignored the negative comments and brushed it off as “there are bad people in every profession” and then he deleted the post. Thanks to a Tumblr user who screencapped it: [x] please notice the tiny blue (lives matters) heart. Also, here are some “cute” pics of him wearing police-related stuff [x] [x] and check out this post of him “repping” new CPD merch on his car [x] (he disabled the comments).

He supports the military, which might be because his parents served in the Vietnam war, but that doesn’t make it less shitty. Examples for his military-support can be found all over his Instagram. [x] [x] [x] [x] [x] and so on... and in this post he’s delighted that a soldier in Afghanistan is wearing an Alkaline Trio patch. [x]

He’s close friends with Asia Argento / or had possible romantic relationship with her and he still sells t-shirts with her face on them in his merch shop. For those of you who don’t know her, she was one of the leaders of the #metoo movement but then it was revealed that she herself had sex with an intoxicated 17-year-old (!) and her bf Anthony Bourdain gave the boy money so he would keep his mouth shut about the incident, ((later Bourdain committed suicide))

Story of a fan who gave Matt a letter criticizing him for being friends with Argento, and the same night he posted a picture of her on IG (I think it was this post)… which seems like a subtle F*CK YOU at the person who gave him the letter. (he can’t take criticism, can he?)

His IG activity is .. something else. Matt’s major interests are motorbikes, cars, and young, attractive, half-naked models and strippers. One of his recent likes (nudity and bruises cw) [x] [x] [x] [x]….that one is an actual porn actress he follows and thirsts over: (more nudity cw) [x] he commented ‘cool butt momma. miss you xoxo’ [x] [x] (liked)…and my “personal fave” a picture with a sex worker [x] he deleted the picture ofc

HE LOVES GUNS (+said that he would use them) he has quite a big gun collection: SIG SAUERs, a Morning Star, many knifes, a shotgun, a Desert Eagle gun, a samurai sword, a faux snakeskin baton, and more stuff I can’t remember, he posted his collection on November 5th 2018 on IG, but unfortunately I didn’t take a screenshot!! but he posted them individually on IG. [x] [x] [x] [x] etc. and a recently deleted pic at the shooting range [x] ……also this pic exists.. edgelord (tw gun to the head).

In the comments of the same post (I swear on my life it’s real, you have to trust me) a user commented that he’s a Trump supporter but he would still defend Matt, even if he’s “politically left”. Matt’s answer: “I would defend you too, my man!”. o k a y. then Matt said he identifies as “quite a bit left” o K AY. MATT. Just so btw. the user also had a name including “88″ ( is a code phrase commonly used in fascist circles for “Heil Hitler”) or he just meant the year 88. but I saw some racist “memes” on his IG too.

Matt has a weird obsession with WW2. He literally watched a holocaust docu on HIS FUCKING BDAY (or at least he posted about it) and he said he collects WW2 books. Theoretically, nothing wrong with being interested in history, but in the context of everything… bad vibes……….

He really loves Nordic/Scandinavian-related stuff, like jewelry of the Hammer of Thor etc and he even uses MS runes for his merch. Runes are popular among occultists but they also have a really problematic history concerning WW2 and the nazis. Considering one of his most favorite bands Death in June mentions runes in their lyrics and they are a REALLY REALLY questionable band flirting with nazi imagery and being openly affiliated with fascist and far-right satanists, I have every right to question Matt’s intentions.

He literally has a crutch cross tattoo on his chest (which was used as the symbol of Austro-Fascism, and is also the logo of the neo folk - nazi band Blood Axis) PHOTO 1, PHOTO 2 and an EDELWEISS tattoo [x], which is the national flower of Austria and is considered a magical flower in occult circles. Nothing wrong with having a flower tattoo but it was used a lot in the context of nationalsocialism and “traditional values”. To add, it was also used as a symbol of the 1st Mountain division “Gebirgsjäger” in WW2 (Hitler’s elite formation of the Wehrmacht who were involved in large scale war crimes).

Matt OWNS NAZI INSIGNIA. He is wearing a WW2 Edelweiss patch in this pic [x] and here [x] combined with a crutch cross patch (Alk3 used an iron cross backdrop at their concerts 2014ish and a crutch cross symbol on their guitar picks btw.)

He owns several Death In June patches, their merch [x] [x] [x] [x] etc. and other patches and buttons featuring nazi-related symbols. [DIJ WIKI]. He is also friends with their singer. Matt’s a huge DIJ fan, attended their concerts [x] and Douglas P. reads the intro of the Alkaline Trio song “I Found Away”. DIJ uses fascist symbols and “aesthetics” for the band, including an SS Totenkopf logo.

Matt painted the same logo and exhibited it at an art show [x]

HE LITERALLY DID PAINTINGS REFERENCING DOLLFUSS AND MUSSOLINI and another piece of “art” called “surf nazis” [x] what the actual f u c k .. and here he is with his painting of Mickey Mouse as Hitler [x]

HE IS BEST FRIENDS with Boyd Rice, (here’s a picture of them holding Wolfsangels, a nazi symbol) they are REALLY CLOSE. According to Rice’s IG they meet every week and hang out and Rice considers Matt “family”… the entire Boyd Rice shit can be read in this post (important please read). Matt even attacked fans that were calling him out and called them stupid.

The first liked video on his Youtube channel is a video about neo-nazi biker gangs in Germany....... [x]

He is friends with Kat von D, she did a few of his tattoos and she appeared in the Alk3 video “Help Me”.

He collabed with Jeffree Star on a violent song [x]

He was at an art show of a friend who used nazi symbols (!)

posts like these [x] [x]

In this interview [x] he’s pretty much romanticizing that people got stabbed back then at concerts and that there was a big skinhead scene (he wasn’t “stoked” about the violence happening BUT “the energy surrounding” was “very ATTRACTIVE” to him. Make of that what you will.)

When he was a sophomore in HS (and on acid) he beat up a classmate who threw a U.S. flag on the floor. [x]

Matt made a racist remark a few years ago about Chinese people [x] and according to him //or he’s joking// he has a tattoo on his dick that says “welcome to Jamaica” which can be interpreted as racist.

Many of the movies he praises blatantly depict violence against women, like Blue Velvet, Funny Games, A Clockwork Orange (it has almost 3 rape scenes in the first 15 minutes), lyrics like “Radio” can be seen as misogynist, he literally wishes that his ex-GF (/or someone’s ex-gf) should take a bath with a radio and get electrocuted.

A person on IG commented that his ex-girlfriend accused him of domestic violence, I have no proof for that but he deleted the comments ofc and then a few days later he donated money to a women’s shelter in LA… which seems like he’s trying to avoid a shitstorm…

He compared L.A. women to zoo animals in this interview [x].

He cheated on his ex-gf(s) which I think should go on this list too.

Matt used to be a member of the Church of Satan, just leaving this here. you can argue if it’s good or bad but there seems to be a connection between satanists and neo-nazis .. sadly.

He listed the song* “Los Angeles” by X among his faves in this interview [x] (*edit: Someone has reached out to me and explained that the song was not racist, antisemitic or anything but from the *perspective* of a racist. However, we don't know Matt's reason for liking the song and considering his WW2 fetish, it's sketchy that he would consider the song as one of his favorites. Maybe he likes it because the song openly says things out loud under the veil of "sarcasm" that would be criticized under different circumstances. See also: [Oscar Wild was right.] Matt still listened to the band in 2014 and was at a concert of them [x], even months after their singer spew right-wing conspiracy theories concerning (school) shootings.

THIS FUCKING PICTURE OF HIM WITH A CHARLES MANSON DOLL AND A SW*STIKA. He still had the doll in other pictures [x] [x].

This picture I found on a fansite. It’s supposed to be Matt as a child.. where does that even come from and why is he wearing a military hat with something that vaguely looks like an eagle (?)

I can’t be the only one who noticed that but Matt had a vaguely ~nazi haircut thoughout the years and even some sort of nazi / white power aesthetic~ going on, even fans recognized it as such [x] [x] [x] and in the context of him hanging out with Boyd Rice like this in this picture [x] it’s safe to say he was EXACTLY GOING FOR THAT LOOK.

When he was in Germany during the Blink-182 tour 2017 he proudly posed at a famous Third Reich location in the Alps. Yk. nothing wrong with visiting historical locations but in the context of everything mentioned in this post. IT LOOKS REALLY BAD.

…probably more.. this man is a walking disaster

- - -

In this post I listed a lot, there are probably some things you would consider “minor” because they happened years ago but I thought I’d mention them anyway. Also, I’m not saying he has those beliefs but he definitely doesn’t distance himself from nazi(-sympathizing) scum like Boyd Rice and keeps being BFFs with him. And what’s up with the problematic tattoos and WWII insignia? I can’t be the only one who thinks this is not okay!!!

Thanks for reading.

#I never thought I would write this... he meant so much to me.. he was my inspiration. wtf #RECEIPTS #PLEASE DONT IGNORE THIS!!!!!#matt skiba #alkaline trio #blink-182 #blink182

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timeslipselfships · 3 years

Text

Shaky Next Step A Ruv (FNF: Mid-Fight Masses) Self Ship Fic

A/N: AAAAASHWAIKAAFS I actually did it holy hell, my first ever proper self-ship fic.

Also @prick-o yer hcs inspired this bless

It had been about two months since Kay found themself indefinitely staying at the church. A strange thing to think about as it wasn't like they were being held captive here, but as long as they didn't have any identification, money or means of contact with their family they didn't have anywhere else to go. They were but a simple tourist who had won a week-long trip to Moscow, Russia, in a raffle they had entered on a lark. It was the furthest they'd ever been from home but it was as exciting as it was nerve-wracking.

The trip was pretty great at first, a nice hotel, delicious local cuisine and beautiful architecture abound.

Around three days in, however, things fell apart.

Kay had been attending a local concert that went on to late in the night. They knew the area by now but the darkness of night tended to make things startlingly unfamiliar. It wasn't a far walk from their hotel but they couldn't help but feel anxious as they passed the shadowy alleyways and dark buildings. Next thing they knew they felt a hand on their shoulder and they were pulled into one of those very alleys. They felt a knife pointed to their chest as the thuggish figure demanded something their grasp on Russian didn't quite comprehend, but likely was along the lines of "Your money or your life."

Kay should have screamed for help, they should have just given him their bag and ran. They didn't do either of these things.

Instead, Kay lifted their leg and kicked him square in the groin. It was pure fight or flight instinct. For good measure they took their bag off and beaned him in the head while he was clutching himself and heaving.

Huh, never thought they'd react quite like that. Kay almost felt proud of themself for teaching the thug a lesson. At least until they found themself surrounded by a whole group of similarly dressed and armed figures.

Kay didn't even get a chance to curse themself out internally before something large and metallic hit the back of their head.

The next time Kay awoke their vision was blurry. They were lying somewhere cold... very cold. They could see the vague shape of trees and... snow. They heard vague yelling and struggling as they tried to sit up, to no avail as they were simply too weak and fell back in the snow.

The last thing Kay saw as their vision faded once again was a tall, imposing figure decked in grey looming over them.

That was the man Kay would later come to know as Ruvzayat, or Ruv for short. He had come across the thugs carrying their unconscious body through the wilderness, likely looking to leave them to the elements to die. He had intervened and saw them off (rather violently) before taking them to the church they currently resided in. There they’d meet Sarvente, or Sarv, who did her best to treat their wounds and make them comfortable before they woke back up.

It was definitely a shock as Kay woke up in a strange, somewhat run-down looking church. They had always been rather uncomfortable with religious subjects, having had more than one unfortunate experience with people using their faith as an excuse to spread hatred and cruelty. Fortunately, Sarv was every bit as kind as the good book encouraged, immediately at their side as they first observed their foreign surroundings.

Sarv was an interesting character to be sure. Doting on Kay like a concerned parent, she would always ask if they were comfortable, if they needed anything to eat or drink, if they needed new bandages or more pain medication...

Kay was indeed rather roughed up from their experience. Their worst injury was their broken left foot, currently in a makeshift cast and propped up on pillows, as well as being rather chilled from exposure to the frigid Russian air. They also had some bruised ribs and a (surprisingly only) minor concussion, alongside a myriad of minor scrapes and abrasions as well as some broken teeth. Of course they were also stripped of everything but the clothes on their back. No phone. No ID. Nothing.

Thus, Kay was left at the mercy of Sarv, who was also rather unique physically. She was almost seven feet tall with her heels, wore an oddly form-fitting nun's outfit and...

Had odd ivory white skin with streaks of pastel pink marbling, as well as large, blank white eyes.

Kay would be a pretty massive hipocrate to question others' physical appearance, they weren't anything special themselves. Nonetheless, this was still something that gnawed at their mind.

Then, there was Ruv. He was arguably even more doting of Kay, without fail appearing every waking hour making sure they were in need of nothing. He was surprisingly quiet despite his appearance, seeming to appear without a sound. And even with his deep, bassy voice he'd always talk just above a whisper. Taciturn and blunt yes, but he seemed to care just as much as Sarv.

If only Kay knew it would become so much more.

Indeed, Ruv was oddly determined to find the rest of those thugs and show them what petty, cheap thievery would truly earn them. Even in his criminal career, he only targeted either other gang members or those that could defend themselves. He didn't look on his past fondly but he liked to think he had some standards, of a sort.

But for now, that could wait. For now, making sure this stranger, Kay, was safe and healing, was more important.

He wasn't sure why he was so concerned about this Kay figure. His best guess was that seeing this simple civilian being dragged around by some wannabe crooks to be left to die alone... angered him. A rare kind of anger that seeped through his soul and made his blood white hot.

He wouldn't, couldn't, just leave them be.

And now, a mere three days later, he kept having to check in. Less to make sure Kay was taken care of, but to keep them off their feet and resting.

He was shocked the first time he saw Kay trying to walk on their bum leg. Clearly struggling and practically dragging themself using a pew for balance.

"what are you doing."

Kay stiffened briefly at his voice before relaxing somewhat.

"I c-can't just sit around and watch you two runnin' about..." Kay stammered out, sharply inhaling as they took another quivering step. "Let me d-do somethIINGggH!" They choked out as their knee suddenly buckled.

Ruv was right on top of them, arms around Kay before they hit the ground. They couldn't help but blush at the contact as Ruv carefully scooped them up bridal-style and brought them back to the mattress they had spent their stay on.

"stay here."

Kay let out a sigh.

"You sure you don't want me to do anything?"

"just rest."

Kay hated this. They felt like little more than a burden loafing around like this. Surely they could walk a little bit by now...

"...you really want to help?"

Kay nodded.

Ruv left the room without a word. Kay sat there awkwardly, worried they had offended him somehow. However, Ruv soon returned with an armful of papers, setting them on a nearby pew.

Kay blinked curiously before being scooped up once again and placed next to the pile, soon surrounded once again by blankets and pillows as they were made comfortable as possible in their new seat.

Ruv pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Kay before pointing to the stack of papers.

"fill in the names."

He handed Kay the first paper in the stack which contained a list of names.

"one each. put them aside when you're done."

Kay took a quick look at the papers. Some kind of newsletter. How quaint.

"you... k with that."

Kay, for the first time since their arrival, beamed.

"That's the name!"

It took Ruv a moment to process the joke before giving an ever so subtle ghost of a smirk.

As Ruv turned around, Kay called out to him.

"A-and... uh... thank you..."

Ruv turned his head slightly.

"...no. thank you."

Kay blushed again as they quickly turned to their work, unaware of Ruv quickly retreating to hide his own matching shade of pink.

And now, the two were surprisingly close, much to Sarv's delight. She had wanted Ruv to open himself up more to others for a long time and their new guest seemed to click well with him.

It wasn't unusual to see the two of them sharing a comfortable silence together. Sometimes Kay would be face down in a book as Ruv simply seemed to be in his own little world, before Kay would pipe up with something they found particularly interesting, with Ruv making a grunt of acknowledgement before sometimes adding his own two cents.

It was... peaceful. And true to their word, Kay was more than willing to help with whatever needed doing in the church, whether it be paperwork like before or, as their injuries healed, physical labor. Carrying boxes of donations, sweeping the hall etc.

Kay felt they could never truly repay the two for saving their life, but for now, this would have to be enough.

Today however, was a quiet, relaxing one. No chores were in need of immediate attention, nothing scheduled, and Sarv was out in town today, so the two were content to simply sit in the church hall and talk whatever came to mind.

"I'm just sayin', we know more about outer bloomin' space than we do the ocean. Who's to say what's down there?"

"so you're saying there's still megalodon out there."

"No, no. I'm saying it's entirely possible some descendant of megalodon adapted to life in the deep ocean. Megalodon is extinct, but a new, different species of mega-shark lives on in their stead."

"ah."

Neither one was really sure how they got on to this topic, nor did they really care. Just listening to Kay talk at length about something they evidently cared about was enough to make Ruv happy.

Their peaceful banter was suddenly interrupted as the large double wooden doors of the church burst open. Both immediately turned to see an unfamiliar figure. Kay briefly feared it was one of their thugs coming to finish the job, but soon found he didn't have the same "uniform" those petty crooks wore, just some off-brand trackwear and knit beanie.

The man looked around the place with a confident smirk and his hands in his pockets as he walked towards the pair.

"Nice place. Little plain but that can be fixed. I'll take it." He punctuated his last statement with a cocky grin towards the two.

"What?" Kay remarked.

"I said I'll take it." The man rolled his eyes like he was talking to an idiot. "This joint'll make a nice little hangout for me an' the boys."

"Wh- you can't do that!" Kay stood up before pausing "Uh... Can he?" They asked their tall, silent companion.

"'Course I can!" The man made his way towards Kay, pulling something shiny and metal out of his pocket. Kay felt their hackles raise thinking it was a weapon until...

A... microphone?

"Unless you wanna rap for it." The man said with a toothy grin.

"...What?"

Kay looked wide eyed between the mic, the man and Ruv. No one moved. The man's expression didn't falter.

Oh... he was serious.

Not only that, but according to Ruv's reaction, or lack thereof, this was not an unusual means of conflict resolution.

"Whoa, whoa, wait!" Kay raised their hands defensively. "I don't think you get it! I can't sing or dance or anythin'!"

"So you forfeit?" The man's slimy smile made Kay's skin crawl. "Guess you better pack your bags then."

Ruv evidently had enough, as he stood from his seat to his full towering height and soon stepped between the two.

"this is a sacred place." Ruv glared down towards the interloper. "show respect or leave. your choice."

Kay saw Ruv's hand leave his pocket revealing a microphone of his own. Did... did he have that on him this whole time?

The man snorted back laughter looking Ruv up and down, seemingly unintimidated. "Big man gonna hafta protect his widdle pwincess?"

Ruv's eye narrowed. "last chance."

"Pffft..." The man mocked. "Bring it stringbean!"

Kay retreated back a few as the two combatants stepped away from each other. They were about to question things further until the speakers installed in the church walls suddenly sprang to life as if on cue.

Kay was about done questioning things at this point. Or so they thought.

The first few verses passed by quickly as Kay had a hard time keeping up with the lyrics, thanks to both the speed of the song and the fact that the two seemed to be singing in their native language, Kay not being nearly versed enough to fully follow.

Ruv had a surprisingly nice voice all things considered. Made them wish he sang more often.

Then there was a brief pause. Ruv took a breath.

If Kay had a hard time following beforehand, they definitely were completely lost now. As Ruv sang, his voice was nearly incomprehensible at the sheer volume. The building shook and his opponent had the expression of someone who had made a massive mistake as he stumbled, grabbing onto a nearby pew to maintain balance against this pure vocal force.

For his part, he tried to continue, albeit rather shaken and fumbling his words. He... tried.

Ruv didn't relent, continuing his lyrical assault as he marched towards his foe, his footsteps seemingly in time with the rhythm, giving the impression of the quaking being caused by his very approach. The man finally lost his balance and fell. Ruv loomed over his opponent as he gave pause for the thoroughly shaken man to retaliate.

"Ah… eh… I..." The man stuttered and mumbled before dropping his mic with a feedback ladden clang.

An eerie silence fell.

Then, a noise, a mundane, inconsequential sound that had no right to carry as much dread as it did.

Click. Eeeee...

Ruv's microphone wasn't even on.

This broke something in the intruder. He scrambled to his feet and ran, clambering about on his shaking knees while yelling something along the lines of "What the hell are you!?" as he fled.

Ruv picked up the dropped microphone as he placed his own back into his pocket after turning it back off. He examined it idly as he silently walked back to Kay.

"sorry about that." Ruv simply stated as he sat down next to his shaken friend, before presenting the discarded mic to them.

"here."

"...Huh?"

"don't think he's coming back for it."

"..."

Kay quietly took the microphone, shiny and unused beyond what had just happened.

Kay looked over to Ruv only to notice him avoiding their gaze.

"...soooo..."

"..."

Kay tapped their fingers along the mic in their hands as they thought over their wording.

"That was..."

Ruv closed his eye waiting for the inevitable words. Terrifying. Monstrous. Freakish. He'd heard it all over the years.

"Awesome..."

Ruv's eye opened wide. Scratch that. He'd hadn't heard that one before.

Ruv turned to Kay, trying to read their expression for any signs of a lie. All he saw was an honest blush of bashful admiration.

"...huh."

"Yeah. I know. Weird. But..." Kay looked at their feet as they talked. "Can't say I know many folks who can make the roar of a crowd with only one man." They looked up again with a small smile.

Ruv wished he could properly smile back. "i... thanks."

"How do you do that anyway?" Kay suddenly had a look of earnest curiosity as they looked him in the eye, a rare feat for them.

"it's not exactly something you can learn."

"Don't care."

Ruv paused. He had never told anyone the origin of his voice. Never really had the chance. Only Sarv knew because she was there when it all happened.

"it's a long story..."

"I've got time."

...

"fine."

Kay smiled and turned fully to Ruv. They tucked their knees to their chin and looked on with rapt attention.

"let's see..."

-NOTE: THE FOLLOWING SECTION DEPICTS SCENES OF GUN VIOLENCE, GORE AND BODY HORROR. IF THESE TOPICS ARE TRIGGERING TO YOU OR YOU OTHERWISE WISH NOT TO SEE SUCH CONTENT, PLEASE CTRL+F AND TYPE IN 'END OF SEGMENT' TO SKIP SUCH CONTENT. PLEASE TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF FIRST.-

It was a peaceful day at the church. Sarv had just finished dusting the hall and was looking upon the room with pride when a sudden noise burst through the afternoon air.

BANG

Sarv jumped. A gunshot? Her thoughts were soon interrupted by another bang, this time against the church doors. She rushed over only to witness them opening as Ruv's body fell like a sandbag to the floor.

"Ruvzayat!"

Sarv rushed over to her friend’s body, alarmed as she saw a fast forming pool of blood underneath.

"Ruv, please! Speak to me!"

No response.

Sarv turned Ruv's body over, gasping in shock and fear as she saw just what had happened.

Ruv's chest was absolutely eviscerated. Red, raw flesh and shattered bone were plainly visible along with a vital clue.

Buckshot.

Figuring out who had attacked Ruv and why could wait. For now, Sarv had to desperately try to save her childhood friend.

How though? Her mind blanked in panic. She could do basic first aid, but she was no surgeon. Calling for medical assistance would be fruitless, with their remote location it would take far too long for help to arrive.

She was running out of time. Ruv's breathing was weak, shallow and wet, he was fading too fast. Sarv couldn't... wouldn't lose him.

She shouldn't... using her powers like that was not only risky but would forever mark him as her indebted. In most eyes his soul would be beyond saving, damned.

Then again, she was a demon who had chosen a holy, righteous path. Maybe, just maybe, if she kept to that path, the powers that be would find room to spare him.

Sarv took a deep breath and started chanting some kind of unknowable language. Her light, charming voice started to echo with arcane power as she hovered her hands over Ruv's wound as they emanate a deep red glow which soon was shared by Ruv's injury.

Ruv's bones and flesh started to move on their own as they started to knit together and reform. His lungs and heart not only healed as the stray bullet remains were forced out, but strengthened and grew. His rib cage followed suit, and as his skin regrew around it, it became clear his overall chest area was now significantly larger.

-END OF SEGMENT-

Demon magic was always unpredictable, but it seemed that beyond some minor alterations Ruv was fully healed. Though Sarv couldn't help but wince as she saw Ruv's already pale complexion fade further as grey marbled stripes formed throughout. Not at all unlike Sarv's pink tinged patterns.

Turns out, being marked by demonic influence was quite a literal term.

Still, Ruv was alive and breathing, Sarv watching his chest steadily rise and fall with a small smile of relief. She soon got up to grab a blanket and pillow so Ruv would be somewhat less sore upon awakening.

Hours later, Ruv awoke with his mind in a haze. The last thing he remembered was that an old 'acquaintance' from his past had tracked him down and was more than willing to not only get some bloody revenge on him, but anyone he associated with. Naturally he couldn't let that happen.

A brief but intense brawl ensued. The would-be assailant was battered and beaten, greatly underestimating Ruv's physical strength as he attempted to wrench the gun from his opponent's hands.

However, all it took was one pull of the trigger.

Ruv had just enough strength in him to punch his foe out and stomp on the dropped weapon hard enough to render it at least temporarily unusable before his adrenaline ran low and he stumbled his way to the church doors in a daze before collapsing, completely unaware of the sheer severity of his injury.

He felt... surprisingly alright all things considered. No pain, just stiffness from laying on the floor.

Ruv sat up and looked around him. His destroyed shirt and coat had been removed alongside his hat, the latter likely had fallen off when he collapsed. He was still near the doors but found himself draped in a blanket and...

Uninjured...?

Ruv looked down at his chest. It was unmarred, no bandages, stitches or scars to be found. Instead he found his skin was even paler than before. Porcelain white as opposed to simply fair. Not only that, but grey stripes and markings dotted his flesh, covering his hands like mismatched gloves.

It didn't take long for him to realize the resemblance.

As Ruv examined himself further he realized how... strange his chest looked now. Maybe it was just because it had been destroyed in what felt like mere moments earlier, but he could swear there was a slight... vibration to it as he breathed. Putting a hand to his upper body it felt like his ribs were thicker somehow as he could feel his heart pounding with strength that wasn't there before.

"Huh..."

Odd, but nothing he couldn't live with. Whatever Sarv had pulled seemed to work better than any typical medicine.

That is, until his dry mouth elicited a cough.

As suddenly as the hack escaped his throat, the building shook.

Ruv braced himself in his sitting position as the quake ceased as soon as it began. An aftershock?

It was at that moment he realized he hadn't seen Sarv since he awoke. Normally she'd be by his side in an instant as soon as she so much as heard a sniffle, let alone anything more. He recalled the man from his past, his intent...

"SARV!"

He shouted for her as fear gripped him as he stood up, only to fall to the floor as another quake rocked the area.

Shit! An earthquake here? Now?

No... It stopped once again. What on Earth was going on?

"Shit... Shit!"

Ruv got to his feet again, one hand on his bare chest, feeling his heart pound. It didn't feel... strange or uncomfortable though. It felt like it was his normal heart rate, just... harder.

"Ruv!?"

Sarv's voice! Ruv spun to face her as she made her way down the hall.

"Sarv! Stay there! Something’s-!"

The quaking started again as Ruv fell to his hands and knees as Sarv stumbled to grip a nearby pillar. Stronger and longer this time.

Through the cacophony Ruv heard an ominous crack. He raised his head to see the pillar Sarv was leaning on splitting apart. Ruv shouted out once more, realizing too late the true source of the quakes.

"SAR-!"

Ruv clasped a hand over his mouth as the realization struck him. Once was nothing. Twice a coincidence. Three times a trend.

He... He was doing this.

From his all-fours position he could feel the force emanating from himself. He felt how his chest vibrates violently with his voice.

Something was indeed wrong... with him. His body.

His thoughts were only interrupted when a violent, grinding crunch sounded through the building, his eye looking up just in time to see Sarv disappear behind a cloud of dust and debris.

Silence...

Dread like none before filled Ruv as the dust settled. He wanted to call out to Sarv desperately, but...

His lifelong friend, the only other person in his life...

She'd saved his life, and he'd taken hers...

Sarv emerged from behind the pillar, mere inches away from being crushed beneath it. She looked to where she last saw Ruv only to see him curled up on himself, eye wide and teary as he tried his best to hold back sobs. She hadn't seen him in such a vulnerable state since they were both but children on the streets.

"Ruv... Ruv it's okay. I'm right here."

Sarv startled as Ruv shifted away from her as soon as she made herself known. He looked at her with fear and remorse, silently begging her to stay away.

Sarv refused to have that.

She approached Ruv as he closed his eye and curled up further, though he didn't resist as Sarv draped herself over him in a tight embrace.

"It's okay. It's okay... I'm fine, see?"

Sarv tried to get a look at Ruv's face but he evidently was avoiding her gaze, shame clear on his features.

"It's alright Ruv. We'll figure this out. I promise."

The two sat there in silence for a long time, letting the events of the day fade into memory as they made a silent reaffirmation of their friendship.

They'd adapt. Just like they had before and inevitably would again.

Apparently, when Sarv healed Ruv's fatal wounds, she also effectively supercharged the affected area, resulting in Ruv now having far more powerful lungs, heart and vocal chords than any regular human. Naturally, Ruv didn't have any knowledge regarding how to handle these changes, thus a long, difficult learning process.

Kay sat in silence as Ruv concluded his story. His face was hard to read, on one hand it wasn't fun revisiting some of his more painful memories. He hated how vividly he remembered the horror of potentially losing Sarv twice in the same day, both as consequences of his actions. On the other, it felt kind of... nice. Like he was getting something off his chest.

Which Kay wasn't very good at hiding her wandering gaze at from him.

"Sooo... I guess you figured out how to control it?" Kay said after realizing they'd been caught staring with a blush, trying to change the subject.

Ruv hummed in response.

"yeah. didn't talk at all for a while. sarv wouldn't stand for that for long however."

"How'd you go about it?"

Ruv considered for a moment.

"singing, honestly."

At first Kay wanted to question this, but reconsidered. It wasn't that odd really. Singing did require a lot of vocal finesse. Controlling one's tone, inflection and, well, volume...

Sheesh... they hadn't even given much thought to the almost casual revelation that Sarv, kind, chaste, charitable Sarv, was a genuine demon. That's something they'd have to explore further at a later date.

Something else was bothering Kay now though, it was clear on their face.

"what's up."

Kay jumped slightly before blushing brightly.

"This is gonna sound really weird but... you said your, uh... chest was all different right?"

Ruv nodded, his expression stoic as ever.

"Could I... look? Justoutofcuriosity...?" Kay sputtered, knowing what their request sounded like.

"..."

"k."

Kay blinked. They didn't expect that to go over so well.

Wordlessly, Ruv shrugged off his coat, revealing his well-toned arms. Kay felt like their face was already on fire.

Next, Ruv deftly pulled his top up and over his head, managing to keep his hat in place. Kay could only imagine from practice alone as they tried to hide their flustered sweating.

"It's purely... scientific curiosity... yeah, let's go with that." Kay tried to rationalize their thoughts.

Indeed, Ruv was speaking the truth with his recollections. It almost looked like someone had taken the barrel-like, deepend thorax of a horse and just tucked it under human skin. Muscles only somewhat obscuring heavy, well-sprung ribs.

Kay found themself raising a shaky hand before pausing.

"M- May I?"

Ruv nodded.

Kay pressed their hand against Ruv's bared chest. They could feel his heart thumping against his ribcage, the slight vibrations from his breath alone.

“Woah…”

“Ah, Ruv, Kay, how are you doinOHMYGOODNESS!”

The two’s heads snapped in the direction of a beet red-faced Sarvente.

“Ah, aahah, I’ll leave you two besorrysorry!” Sarv sputtered as she backed off through the doorway she had just entered from, eyes looking… anywhere but at her two companions.

The pair instantly realised how intimate they appeared to Sarv without any context. Ruv was hurriedly pulling his top on, his expression neutral but face flushed pink, while Kay was just covering their face, barely holding back an embarrassed squeal.

They would explain, or try to, later. For now, as they caught each other's glances briefly, they quietly filed away this memory.

They would only make plenty more.

#Self ship #Self ship fic #self insert x canon #Hope I got this right #Also #Is half of this just my general background/weird anatomy headcanons?#Yes #Yes it is #Karuv #Violence text #Gore text #Body horror text

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quantumrpg · 6 years

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NAME: Jake Ryleigh AGE: 33 SPECIES: Werewolf OCCUPATION: Tattoo Artist YEAR OF DEPARTURE: late 2011 RESIDENT FOR… six years FACECLAIM: Bob Morley

t i m e i s a n i l l u s i o n, b u t n o t o u r s t o r i e s…

TW: Drug Abuse, Alcoholism, Death, Domestic Abuse, Assault, Racism

When people hear Ely, Minnesota not much comes to mind. Born and raised in small town, USA, population less than 4,000, Jake grew up surrounded by what he fondly refers to as the lower working class. For every family resting comfortably in the working class, there were those that barely managed to scrape by. Small towns aren’t exactly booming with opportunity. Especially, for two high school graduates.

Jake was born to two teenage parents. His mother belonged to a religious, white, middle class family. His father was an immigrant working alongside his brother for a contractor in town with nothing to his name save for work ethic. Needless to say, his grandparents were not pleased with the elopement so Jake has few memories of them from before the age of seven. They were there for no birthdays and holidays; they weren’t even at the hospital when his little sister was born. It wasn’t until his father passed away, victim of a heart attack caused by an undiagnosed health condition, that they surfaced. Jake was seven at the time and from there things quickly swan dived.

His mother struggled to find work without job experience and the small family drowned under the funeral expenses. Although she had to bite her pride, Jake’s mother agreed to live with his grandparents. This arrangement was supposed to last until she got the family on their feet, but his mother took the first out she could find. It came in the form of a toxic relationship, which scars went beyond her to Jake. His sister was too young to remember everything, and that was the only good part of that time period.

By the time Jake was nine years old, his mother managed to get enough footing that they moved into a modest neighborhood. He wound up making his first real friend after the move with a boy that lived close by. His name was Lee Randazzo and the two became an inseparable pair. So much so that they decided to start a band at the age of fourteen. Things were fine enough. He was no stranger to childhood bullying. Kids didn’t understand why his clothes didn’t fit right and why he never had much until they were older, but by then it hadn’t mattered because his mother remarried. Two incomes instead of one made things easier, and Jake already learned that the best way to get by was to laugh first. Even if it was at himself, and having Lee around made it better.

At the age of fourteen, Lee and Jake decided to start a band on a whim. Lee, as discovered by their choir teacher, could actually sing. Jake liked the bass that Lee’s dad kept in the basement. They met Ken, their first drummer, after school. He was a jazz band kid, but he wanted more, and they needed a drummer. Keith came a few months later; then, Jeremy a year later. Lee found them and that was how they built the band. Over the next three years, each of them got a little better at being a band. They started playing locally after school despite their parent’s complaints, and they practiced in Lee’s basement whenever they had the time.

By the time senior year rolled around, Lee, Jake, Jeremy, and Keith were ready to commit to the band 100 percent. Ken was not. Ken wanted college, so he left, and they came to a fork in a road. Luckily for them, Aaron found them and unlike Ken he wanted the band just as much as they did. With Aaron on board, they were able to find the right and venues and Oliver Fink, agent for Hollywood Records, found them.

At nineteen, Jake and the rest of the band moved from Detroit to sunny LA. They all fit it with ease. They were on top of the world, and it stayed that way for five years. Five years and four records was a lot. If they weren’t in the studio they were on stage. Jake loved it. He loved traveling and meeting new people, one of his first serious relationships happened during this time with a girl named Kat. He was living a life he never expected, chasing after a dream and living comfortably alongside his friends.

Lee started to crumble and his drinking and self medicating hit its peak during their second tour. Jake and Aaron begged for Lee to go to rehab. They insisted that putting the band on hold would be worth it if he could get clean. The band wouldn’t keep afloat if they kept cancelling shows and missing rehearsals. Lee insisted he was fine, and for a few months thing seemed that way.

In 2009, their fourth album was in production when Lee went out for the night. Jake planned on going with him to a mutual friends house, but when he got stuck in traffic Lee told him to meet him there. He was only a hour and a half late when he got to their friends house and saw the ambulances surrounding it. Dead on scene, is what the paramedics said. Accidental overdose was the official report on the autopsy. According to their friend, Lee was already at their house when Jake called. There was nothing he could have done, but Jake wasn’t so sure.

In the months after Lee’s death, Jake and the rest of the band tried to get back on their feet. They looked for a new main vocalist, but nothing ever worked. By the time their fourth album released, they knew it would be the last. The band went their separate ways within a month of the album’s release, and Jake? Jake was beginning to crumble under the same demons that took his best friend, and he could see the dead end from a mile away. He made the decision to move from LA to New York on a whim. It was a last ditch attempt to save himself before he was completely lost.

Within his first few months of living in New York, Jake ran into Kat again and the two started dating after a few months of hooking up. Things were going well. As someone that was always more artistically inclined and a fan of tattoos, Jake decided to leave the music scene in lieu of becoming a tattoo artist. His first year as an apprentice was a challenge, but rewarding. He and Kat were supportive of one another’s goals and happy, but things started to go south during the fall of 2011. They started to fight more, and Jake struggled to find the reason why. It wasn’t until he came home one night and saw Kat using in their bathroom that he put two and two together.

If things were different, if there was no Lee, and if Jake hadn’t found himself in a similar place, he would have stayed in the apartment that night and talked things out. Unfortunately, things weren’t like that for Jake and he walked out. He intended to to go to his best friend’s house and return in the morning. Jake was halfway to Silas’s house when his friend convinced him to turn around and go home. Jake made a call to Kat that night to apologize and to say he was coming home. That never happened, though. Instead, he slipped into the liminal space.

What he found was another family in his apartment and no sign of anyone he knew. He had nothing except for what was on his person. While he could look at his friends and family online, it was a one way mirror and no one could see or hear him. Jake began to crumble on his own. This time, there was nowhere and no one to run to in order to save himself. He quickly crumbled to his demons and was fully prepared to let them eat away what was left of himself.

Despite his best intentions, Jake wound up meeting people during his first year in the liminal space. One of them was a girl named Ophelia. Ophelia was fun at first. A nice distraction from the loneliness and anger he felt at not being able to return home. Ophelia was not content with being nothing more than a fling, and she disliked watching Jake spiral so she took matters into her own hands. She bit him. She gave him no choice but to live.

Alone and afraid, Jake spent the first few weeks after being bitten avoiding her at every corner. He met a dormant werewolf and her boyfriend during this time and the two managed to keep him together long enough for the first full moon after Ophelia’s attack. It wasn’t until days before the first shift that Jake realized that he didn’t have much of a choice: he was going to have to live a sober life. It was either that or waste all of his money trying to fight against a body that needed more of everything to feel high.

It’s been six years since he slipped and at times Jake feels the same as he did during the first week. He feels alone and aimless in a place that is real, but not by the standards he used to understand. On other days, he feels almost human. He has a job, and a place to sleep. He’s more in control of himself and his werewolfism with every year, and he has even found himself coping with music and work. There a few people he would consider friends, too. It’s not the same, but it’s fine. Yet, that’s the problem. It’s fine. Every now and then, he revisits his friends and family online. It’s a bittersweet comfort to see that they have moved on, and on some days he’s better at moving on, too.

t e l l m e, a r e w e a p r o d u c t o f w h o w e u s e d t o b e?

Jake’s a complicated mishmash of a person. On one hand he appears to be a very laidback person in the sense that people can rarely make him mad. Annoyed? Sure. But Jake’s the type to be annoying right back and he does it with the biggest grin. Most people find this infuriating. Jake doesn’t really care. He’s the type of person that goes over like a fart in church for some people. He’s too loud, too talkative, and for some people, too unfocused, for them to take seriously. Despite this being a core of Jake’s personality, it has always functioned as a barrier of sorts. As a kid, it was all armor against anyone trying to pick on him. As an adult, it’s a ruse that makes people feel close to him without actually being close to him. It’s hard to notice that a person is actually distant when they always seem at ease and happy with company. Underneath the ruse, Jake swirls with turbulent emotions and regrets. He’s been hollowed out with loneliness and self hatred. He has always put blame on himself for the things that have happened in his life, and slipping into the liminal space was no different. In order to keep himself afloat underneath the weight of his self loathing he tends to run away. Whether it be by changing his own setting or through humor, Jake’s usual response to his own negative emotions is to distance himself. He’ll go from being lighthearted to numb and blank when he’s alone in his room if he’s reminded of the past. In spite of this, Jake is stubborn and intensely loyal when it comes to other people. It is both a blessing and a curse as he tends to make lasting friends with those he becomes close to, but fails to let go easily, even if it is at his own expense.

#bob morley #werewolf #taken #jake ryleigh

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druidcore · 6 years

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nsfw alphabet and split it up between all of our muses because... stealing your words... IDC DO IT DANI

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Tessa I can imagine being super snuggly after sex. Running her finger down Ford’s chest, sighing contentedly like a happy little kitten. She stretches out, burrows down into the bed and will stroke Ford all over. Her hands will grip his biceps and rub all the way down to his hands and up again, while she hums.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

April’s favorite body part for herself is actually her stomach. She’s spent hours before in front of her mirror running her hands over her taut skin, admiring the way her ribs don’t protrude, but expand like wings wrapped around her heart. She deeply romanticizes forgotten ares of her body showing them the love that the rest of her body gets without prompting, but her stomach is her favorite one. She intends to preserve it forever.

On Dominic, her favorite body part is his back. It’s corded with muscle speaking of years and years of dedicated work and labor. She daydreams daily of kissing him there, an inch above his jeans all the way to the nape of his neck. Her fingers itch to knead into his skin, working out all the tension and stress knotted there. His back is magnificent.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

One of Rhiannon’s dirtiest fantasies is to have not one –– but multiple people cum on her face. There’s something to the act, a little degrading and a little rewarding which pleases her. To be an object of desire that not just one but two (or even three) guys are obsessed with is something that has always fascinated her. She’s never admitted it to anyone though, out of partial shame and fear that she’ll be ridiculed or slut-shamed for it. Opinions on the matter tend to vary, and if she’d ever do it, she’d want to do it with people that wouldn’t make her feel dirty (in a bad way) for it.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Penelope once masturbated in the Quidditch stands. She was one of the only people there –– it was a cold day out –– and the Slytherin team was likely practicing and she was trying to study, but the more she watched them practice, the more she got the urge to do something a little… dirty. And before she knew it, her fingers were her down her skirt, behind her books. She came once and instantly stopped. The whole experience was incredible, but extremely nerve-wracking and she never did anything of the like again.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Safe to say Mandy’s got little to no experience. The first boyfriend she had tried to pressure her into sex and she didn’t want to and ended up running out of his house. The most they did was over the top petting and he made her stroke him and she hated it because he kept pointing out everything she was doing wrong, and it was all just too much too fast. And then her next boyfriend was a kid from her mom’s Church, and she set them up, and when Mandy was making out with him and actually wanted to jerk him off, he shamed her and made her feel dirty. Her relationships since have been with guys who make out with her and bring her to family events and stuff, but she always gets cheated on with other girls “willing to put out”. Because she’s from a small town there’s word around that she’s a goody goody among the school kids and then that she’s promiscuous among the church kids. Either way, no one is giving her any, so she hasn’t had chances to explore what she likes or not.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Ronan’s favorite position is actually simple missionary –– he likes to see a woman’s pleasure on her face as he’s, ahem, giving it to her. And honestly, what woman would protest that? Having him above with a hand braced on the wall, driving into her? It’s been nothing than successful so far.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Zahra is definitely kinda goofy. She likes to make her partners feel comfortable and will probably like laugh and smile a lot during sex, which sometimes intimidated some of her ex boyfriends because they weren’t secure in their confidence as a result of hers. She likes having fun, wild sex and trying new things and sometimes kind of embarrassing incidents occur and sometimes you just have to laugh them off and she’s great at that.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

Before the whole apocalypse started, Willa occasionally shaved down there when she had to –– for bikini season and for swimming classes. But after, obviously things sort of took a turn. Razors weren’t really one of the most important things to stock-pile or focus on, so that… kind of took a backseat to bigger and more important things. Still, when her and JP started sleeping together, she put an effort into finding a pair of scissors at at least trimming a little when things got too wild. She’s not too bothered about the situation down there though, she’s never been too hairy, and honestly if he can’t deal with her body hair during the zombie apocalypse, there’s no way they’re ever going to make it out of it.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Nesrin has a hard time being intimate, if she thinks about it. Her favorite sex positions are reverse cow-girl and doggy, just because that level of eye contact and kissing during sex are so... intense and she never knows how to handle it. She’s never really had sex with someone she was in love with, and whether she knows it or not, it’s like she’s subconsciously waiting to be fully intimate (and romantic) with someone she does genuinely have feelings for. Malcolm, probably, would be the first. Uh oh.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Fallon can never get herself off. It’s just one of those things where it’s unsatisfying and she’s always left more frustrated after than before. She can’t manage to get out of her head –– she needs to be firmly planted in the moment to really get off. Her inability to do so leaves her feeling discontent and insecure. She’s tried –– believe her, but at a certain point she sort of just gave up and hasn’t bothered to keep trying. Now she only orgasms when someone (Graham) gives her one.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Mera’s definitely got a huge daddy kink and is always interested in a lg/dd type relationship. She wants to be pampered in every aspect of life and being “daddy’s little princess” is something that highly appeals to her. Her dating history has always landed her with attractive but trifling and broke men and so she needs someone sturdy and reliable, but still a little wild and sexy (and preferably rich lmao) to lay it down good, and spoil her with goodies and love and lots of sex.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Dana’s favorite places to “do the do” are pretty wild, as compared to the usual bed, bathroom, etc. She likes doing it in wide open spaces. Her biggest fantasy is to do it in big palace courtyard or something of the sort. Other places that rank up there are rooftops (element of danger there, obviously) and her high-school basketball court (the acoustics in that thing are phenomenal okay??).

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

There’s just something about sexting in plain view which gets Lauren wet like no other. When her and Josh are on opposite ends of the counter, looking so innocent as they wait for new customers in silence, but being so absolutely filthy in reality, she sometimes feels like she could hop onto the counter and ask him to have sex right there and then.

And the way his arms flex whenever he does anything flexible is also an incredible turn on. He’s got strong arms, and large palms. She finds herself daydreaming about their imprint on her ass more often than not.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Taylor’s absolute biggest no-no is anything to do with bodily fluids separate from cum. No golden showers, none of that. Despite being pretty nasty in bed, this is the one thing she’ll be super judgemental about and easily disgusted by, not only because personal hygiene is important to her, but because she also thinks it spawns terrible expectations and ideas in people’s minds.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Wes likes to receive more –– but that’s just because he’s so used to giving in all other aspects of his life, that getting feels like a huge gift to him? I feel like he really savors and appreciates every single blowjob he ever gets. As for his own skill in giving, his first girlfriend was older than him and boy did teach him him well.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Cassia is as #romantic #aesthetic sex as it gets. I’m talking like, candles and having slow sex in the moonlight. It’s hips writhing like the slow roll of the ocean waves and the drawn-out rise and plunge of herself on his length. It’s the complete opposite of frenzied. It’s intense, and yes, incredibly sensual. It’s a stimulation all over the body, everywhere they touch.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

It depends on the person she’s with, when it comes to Aislinn. She’s come to hate them with her boyfriend, because it feels impersonal and almost disrespectful, but she has a feeling that might not be the case with Jax, because he actually pays her pleasure attention.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Parker’s kind of wild tbh. He’s experimented a lot. He love love loves rectal stimulation and is always down to try new things, including but not limited to: threesomes, sex parties, sex swings, swinging… Anything along those lines he’s always ready to try at least once. His mantra happens to be: try it once, and if you don’t like it try it again just to make sure.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Justine is kind of-kind of not a virgin. There’s never been time to lose her virginity to someone, as in have sex, but she has broken her hymen before using –– yes, you guessed it –– a hairbrush. It hurt a lot and she had to weather it herself, but it hasn’t scared her off sex. She just hasn’t had time to have a boyfriend or anything, but she’s eager to actually have sex for the first time, especially since she won’t have to deal with the pesky issue of losing her virginity to someone who’ll blunder through it. She wants someone experienced who will take care of her right. But again, where even is the time?

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Tessa has tons, tons, tons of toys. In her line of work she prided herself on not having to sleep with anyone, but since a) not many of her past boyfriends had ever been adept at finding her G spot (or her clit) and b) she’s sometimes had to go through long dry spells without sex, she’s built up quite a nice little collection of toys. She tends to prefer dildos to vibrators because most brands tickle her too much, even though dildos are more work. Her favorite one is a waterproof clear silicone one that she saves just for when she wants to take a bath or shower –– which is, for some reason, her favorite place to masturbate. Something about the steam and the atmosphere.

She’s proud of her toys, and even when she’s in a relationship with Ford, she won’t throw them away. They’re her babies –– in fact, she might even have names for some of them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Tessa is not a tease. Not at all. She has very little patience when it comes to someone she actually likes. If she wants him, she’ll make it obvious and she’ll go for it. And as for being teased, she has a love/hate relationship with it because on one hand she’s getting the attention she wants, but on the other hand, god damn it, its not enough –– she wants more.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Taylor is, of course, loud. Not only is she loud, she’s vocal about everything she’s feeling too. She grunts when Tyler bottoms out, she swears when she’s close to the edge, and during particularly exhaustive romps where they’ve fucked more than once in one night, his name tends to blur into other words. And she’s always been this way –– uninhibited. She’s the roommate you never want to have because sometimes not even wearing headphones is enough to block her out. If you’ll recall, she’s got the lungs of a future broadway star. Her voice can pitch super high –– the shitty university dorm walls never stood a chance.

BONUS: Tessa gets… very complimenting in bed. Ford can expect a lot of “oh god, I love your cock! don’t stop!” during and after. She’s also opinionated and will easily give directions like, “go faster!” “harder!” etc. until it’s perfect and by then she can hardly speak, save for the gibberish that’s coming out of her mouth.

EXTRA BONUS: Fallon is quiet. She’s not a screamer, she’s not loud, but in contrast it’s intense and earth-shattering the way she comes. Her breathing deepens and stills and she makes these short keening gasps the closer she gets to orgasm. She’ll try to moan Graham’s name, but the sheer pleasure makes it impossible for her to get past the first three letters before her eyes are rolling to the back of her head and she’s coming for him.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

It had to happen. It’s not that she’s got a dirty mind (alright, she sort of does) but they work at a bagel shop, for Christ’s sake. It’d be criminal of them to not take advantage of the fact. One day Lauren proposes to Josh that they make a bagel with a hole big enough to fit his dick through because… Well, why not? All the tools (pun intended) are at their disposal, and they’ve got the whole place to themselves after they lock up. Even if he doesn’t agree, it was worth a shot to ask, and to see the look on his face.

And if he does agree? Well, she loves Bagels, and she loves Josh’s dick so… Best of both worlds.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Yeah, Jasey definitely has a piercing down there. Her clit is pierced, something she got done when she was 18 and wanted to do something wild. Her and her best friend got it done together and cheered each other on. Jasey swore up a storm when it was done, because she’s incredibly sensitive down there. It also was a very hard healing process for her because it got infected once, but she took care of it afterwards and now it’s all good. She also happens to not shave or wax, but trips the pubes when they get too long. Her hair is light brown and slightly coarse, and grows slowly. She has to do maintenance maybe every three weeks.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Kaja’s sex drive has never been too high. She’s been called a prude many times simply because of it. Sex has just never been one of her primary, or even secondary interests. She’s also never met anyone where the connection between them has been electric. To be honest, her life has been pretty bland, as far as things go. She entirely expects for sex to be the same, even when others claim it’s this awesome, epic thing.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Nat never really falls asleep after sex. Due to always having to be on the run and on the move, there’s never anytime to sleep, and even if there was, she usually never trusts people enough to fall asleep next to them. However, down the line with Nik, I can imagine that show of like… vulnerability almost where she’d finally allow herself to nod off? I don’t know if she’d tell him the significance of it, though.

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boystownbirdie · 7 years

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LMWTV4U: GOT S7E7

Welcome back to Let me watch TV 4 U? The blog where I watch TV for YOU! Last night was the season 7 finale of Game of Thrones. What happened? LET’S FIND OUT! Spoilers ahead you’ve been warned. You’ve also been warned that you are about to be #SHOOKETH.

Again, I was fully #shook the entire second half of this ep. But the first half was less shocking, so let’s get that out of the way first, shall we?

We open on Greyworm and the rest of the Unsullied army…

And they are in #formation on the lawn of King’s Landing. Jaime and Bronn watch from a tower and discuss dicks and basically conclude that dicks make the world go ‘round which is A. GARBAGE and B. WELCOME TO THE SEASON OF THE KWEENS. Also Bronn oversees the Lannister army’s production of “pitch” which I’m assuming is like tar (I know this from Into the Woods, thanks Sondheim!). What is this pitch for? IDK it’s never mentioned again! During their dick-discussion, the Dothraki forces ride up on their horses through the Unsullied formation and J and B are, frankly, spooked.

While the Unsullied and Dothraki approach by land, the big wigs ride in by sea. We’ve got Tyrion, Previously-Traumatized-Theon (PTT), Sleevey, Bae, No-Knuckles (NK), Stoney, and Missi on deck. Down below, the Hound checks to make sure the ice zombie they obtained last week is still zombie-ing. As they approach, Theon’s Uncle Crazy-Pants (UCP) has his whole fleet of ships guarding King’s Landing. We check in quickly with Queen Pixie Cut (QPC) who is reminding her zombie-bodyguard, The Mountain, to kill everyone please.

As we approach the GoT-Model-UN, Bronn strolls up with Ladyknight and her squire, Pod on one side and are met by Tyrion and the rest of #TeamKhaleesi at a fork in the road. Pod and Tyrion and Bronn all used to be besties, so it’s kind of weird for them to be meeting like this, but OH WELL we’ve got ice zombies to discuss! The Hound and Ladyknight reunite which is cute because last time they met she left him for dead. They both chat about how they are proud that their little Arya has grown up to be a skilled assassin.

They approach the Courtyard by Marriott presents, the DRAGONPIT space that QPC has rented for their Model-UN conference, which is actually a giant pit where the Targaryens used to keep their dragons. It looks like one of those stadiums that was shoddily-built for the Olympics 25 years ago but has not been touched since. #TeamKhaleesi and #TeamBae all take their seats and then QPC and co. roll up with Uncle Crazy Pants. We get a reminder that the Mountain and the Hound (who are brothers) do NOT like each other. QPC is like, umm… Where’s Khaleesi? And then in the least surprising entrance ever Khaleesi flies in on Dragon #1 with Dragon #2 in tow and is like, what? Am I late?

Uncle Crazy Pants has to remind us all that he’s crazy and rather than let the grown-ups chat, he yells at his nephew PTT and is like, hey, I still have your sister, remember? Tyrion tries to steer the convo back to Model-UN business but then UCP goes on a rant about how he hates dwarves until QPC is finally like shut all the way up, UCP. Tyrion and Bae co-present the case for their country in this model-UN, Khaleesi-ville. There’s a lot of back and forth but T makes a very good point when he says there’s “no conversation that will erase the last 50 years.”

Their presentation concludes with a real-life-3D-representation of the threat to their country, an ice zombie fresh from beyond the wall! The Hound sets him loose and he comes right for QPC’s face. She looks truly horrified while her “Maester” (who is into human experiments and keeping dead people alive unnaturally) is kinda turned on? Bae shows us that the 2 things that can destroy the ice zombie are fire and dragonglass, thus completing his presentation. Good job, Bae, A+ and extra points for visuals!

UCP is not having this and is like, can ice zombies swim? Bae’s like, naw dawg they cannot. So UCP is like k, BAI and peaces out. He and his people live on an island so they’re safe from ice zombies as long as they stay put. Since Khaleesi recently purchased an island-condo, he advises her to do the same. QPC agrees to a truce with #teamKhaleesi on the condition that Bae heads back to Winterfell and not “choose a side” between Khaleesi and QPC. It seems like a good deal but Bae is like sorry I already chose a side I’m #teamKhaleesi til I die (again). QPC is like k, kewl, bai and her whole crew leaves without deciding on their model-UN resolution. Ladyknight appeals to her old pal Jaime to have some common sense but he is too #inlurve with his sister to listen.

Everyone left at the Courtyard by Marriott is like Bae couldn’t you just have told a little lie to QPC? And he’s like naw, not a liar. Can’t do it. Tyrion is like ok well I’ll go talk to my sis, she’ll probs kill me but, it’s been a fun life! Meanwhile, Khaleesi and Bae get a little heart-to-heart where she AGAIN mentions that she can’t have children and he’s like well who said that? And she’s like oh this witch doctor lady who killed my first husband. And Bae is like, she wasn’t even a licensed medical professional, what does she know!?

Tyrion and Jaime have a quick moment of brotherly love before T goes to see QPC. T is like, ok sis, just kill me. Your giant zombie-bodyguard is here just give the order and have me killed. And then she doesn’t kill him. Instead, she declines his glass of wine because she is #drinkingfortwo now, that’s right, she preggers (or at least she claims to be). Somehow, telling Tyrion about her pregnancy leads her to change her mind so she returns to the Courtyard by Marriott to tell the crew that she will have her armies march North to face the “great war” of the ice zombies. Huzzah! Our mission is complete. OR IS IT?

Let’s pop into Winterfell, shall we?

Sansa finds out that Bae #boweddown to Khaleesi via a very informative letter and discusses this with Littlefinger. LF is like well, I guess Bae is a traitor now so maybe you should be in charge? And she’s like hmmm… but my sister is acting weird. And then he tries to tell her that her sis wants to kill her to become the “Lady of Winterfell” and take power. She’s like, well… I guess I better do something about that. A few scenes later, Sansa is busy looking out at the winter-y landscape and tells a guard to have her sister, Arya, brought to the Great Hall.

In the Great Hall, Arya walks into a room filled with judgy-looking dudes in pointy hats and is like, did I miss something? And Sansa is like well… there is a traitor in our midst. And Arya is like, oh really, bitch? We gonna go there? And Sansa is like yep, you’re accused of treason, murder, and conspiring to kill your leader……… LITTLEFINGER!

WHAT? TABLES TURNED BIOTCH YOU ARE DONE LITTLEFINGER.

LF tries to talk his way out of this one but it turns out the sisters have been plotting against him all along and there’s nothing he can say that can combat that. Plus Bran is there and he can see the past so he offers some helpfully incriminating testimony against Littlefinger. LF is down on his knees begging Sansa for his life and she’s like #boibye, do it sis. And Arya cuts his throat! And then he is dead-o as dead as any dead thing that ever died. I truly cheered out loud at this scene. Like, I should have seen it coming but I didn’t. Thank you, GoT, for not only killing off a main character, but one we all wanted to see die anyway! Later, we get a scene where Arya and Sansa fully make up and are friends again, TG!

Back to #teamKhaleesi...

they’re debating travel plans to head North. Stoney is like, Khaleesi you should take the dragon express, but Bae is like no, sail on a boat wit me. And Khaleesi is FEELING BAE so she’s like sorry, Stoney, gotta get that D. Then we have a sweet scene where Bae and PTT resolve their past differences and PTT is like wow you are one good dude, Bae.

Inspired by this convo, PTT heads to the boats to ask the small crew of his sister’s sailor-guys to sail with him to save his sis from UCP. The main sailor dude is like NOPE, you heard UCP, we’re heading to an island! PTT is like NOT TODAY, SATAN, and he starts fighting the main sailor dude. After taking several punches and getting back up again (that, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call tub-thumping (thanks Kimmy Schmidt), when you get back down but you get up again), PTT is hit hard in the groin by the main sailor dude but jokes on him cuz PTT is like a Ken-Doll down there! PTT uses this momentum to wipe out sailor dude and after beating him up, rallies the troops to go save his sister! Good job, PTT!

Back in King’s Landing…

Jaime is ordering the Lannister forces to head up North to fight the ice zombies when QPC walks in and is like lol wut? Jaime’s like just doing what we agreed to do at the Model UN conference! QPC is like, oh that’s sweet, you thought I was serious? I’m not gonna make a truce with Khaleesi! I’m gonna move in as soon as her troops head North! And Jaime is like how? We don’t have an army! And she’s like oh remember when UCP said he was going to leave and head back to the Iron Islands- psych!- he’s heading to the other side of the world to bring the “Golden Company” (a huge army of soldiers for hire that QPC bought with all that Tyrell gold) back here.

Jaime is NOT PLEASED because A. he wants them to keep their word and B. he’s like if these ice zombies win we’re all f$%-ed and C. QPC kept him in the dark about all of this. He’s like I know you murdered thousands of innocent people in a church and you’ve been 100% evil for the past 5 seasons, but this is the LAST STRAW. And he goes to leave and she’s nobody walks away from me and her zombie-knight is there. And Jaime is like ok, kill me. Which is cuckoo because this is the second time in this episode where QPC is faced with a brother saying “ok, have your zombie knight kill me then” and each time she doesn’t do it.

So Jaime storms off and it seems like he is finally dunzo with his twin sis/lover and is headed...North? IDK? As he is leaving King’s Landing, though, SNOW STARTS TO FALL whoa #winteriscoming #vintagenedstark #amiright ladies?

Let’s check in on Winterfell again!

Sam arrives with Gilly and bb Sam and comes to see the artist formerly known as Bran Stark aka The 3-eyed Raven. Bran tells Sam he is the 3-eyed Raven now and Sam’s like….k? And Bran is like I need to see Bae to tell him about his parents. Bran is being a real know-it-all which is I guess his gig now and he’s like he’s not Jon Snow, he’s Jon Sand, he was a bastard born in Dorne (Dornish bastards have the last name Sand instead of Snow cuz of the climate) to Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark. And Sam is like HOLD THE PHONE I just remembered that Gilly read aloud from this old dude’s diary that Lyanna and Rhaegar were legally married and he got offish divorced from his first wife!

And then Bran goes back in time and watches the marriage and is like yep it happened and meanwhile he’s narrating all of this, Khaleesi and Bae are on a ship headed North when he knocks on her door late at night. She lets him in and then before we even get to witness their first kiss they are #doingit that’s right straight up boning and fully nude. It is very hawt but also we are confirming that she is his aunt at the same time. And Tyrion, meanwhile, watched Bae go into Khaleesi’s room and is feeling some kinda way about it?!?

I’m too verklempt to describe the sensuality of these 2 beautiful people in the nude so let’s cut to our last scene. Gingerbae and Eyepatch are still at Eastwatch when GB spots a bunch of ice zombies walking up to the wall. He’s like oh snap they are very close now we better get our shit together. And then ICE ZOMBIE DRAGON flies up, with the Night King on his back and BURNS DOWN A HUGE SECTION OF THE ICE WALL WITH HIS FIRE/ICE BREATH!?!?!?! GB and Eyepatch seem to be ok but now, we have for the first time ever, a bajillion ice zombies who’ve successfully crossed into the realm of the living and are really, definitely coming for all of us. END OF EPISODE.

Phew thanks so much for reading! Sorry bout my technical difficulties. I’ll see you next season!

#game of thrones #game of thrones recap #game of thrones review #gotrecap #the dragon and the wolf #jon snow #khaleesi #ice dragon

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demi-dufresne · 7 years

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Haunted*

Hello! Still feeling particularly halloween-esque. Here’s another entry for the red vs blue bingo, hosted by @rvbficwars ! This one’s for gen, seeing as I’d probably tag it as that if it were on ao3 or something. Break a leg, blue team!

Church hated halloween. He fucking hated it. It was this time of year that kids got the bright idea to whip out the Ouija boards, trying to summon deadass spirits who want to haunt their houses or some shit. Nine times out of ten, one of them would move the pointer thing anyways. What was even the purpose of calling him there? Church hated it.

Like, okay, October did have its perks. For starters, it was the time he actually had the most communication with the living, being a ghost and all. That was pretty nice. He had very little memories still intact from when he was alive, and being around living people sometimes brought them back. And he really liked the smell of pumpkins, which was all over the damn place this month. So cool. October. Not cool? The responsibilities of being dead.

Every time a person put their grubby little fingers on the Ouija board, the nearest ghost was summoned. Okay, yeah. That makes sense. It just sucked that, in Church’s little suburb of Valhalla, he was pretty sure he was the only dead guy who cared to stick around.

One perk he got out of that? Messing with people.

It was twenty days until Halloween when he got yet another call. Every time this happened, Church felt like his stomach was being dragged up his throat by a vacuum cleaner. This time was no different. He choked on air, as if he needed to breathe, and then suddenly, bam! He was in some random house in the middle of town. Grand.

“What do you even want?” He grumbled. Of course, they couldn’t hear him. There were four kids sitting on the floor there, each with one hand pressed to the pointer thing. Church hadn’t been dumb enough to mess with this shit as a kid. Like, come on. You’re begging for trouble.

“Uh, dear dead guy, or something,” one of them said. He wore a obnoxiously teal (aqua?) shirt, and for some reason held his head down in prayer. “Welcome to my house, I guess. I live here. It’s pretty great. Bet you’re glad to be in my presence. But uh, hey. Don’t like, kill us, I guess. Amen.” The other three nodded, one in dark blue a little more enthusiastically than the others.

That first one of the kids- okay, hold on. They weren’t really kids. They were somewhere around seventeen, old enough to know better. That almost pissed Church off even more. “Okay, guys,” the dude said. He had dark black hair cropped close to his head, with a darker skin tone than the rest. “We need to remember to be, like, polite and stuff. I think. Maybe. Or wait, did it say aggressive? I don’t know, I’ve only looked this up on wiki-how once, in like, seventh grade.”

“Thanks, Tucker. Nice preparation. Always great to hear you have an expert on your team,” a second guy said. Ginger, curly hair, glasses. Looked like a fucking dork to Church.

“Let’s just get this over with. Why can’t we like, sit around and eat popcorn and watch movies like normal teenagers?” This third dude looked kinda… Hawaiian, almost? He definitely had a point, though. These motherfuckers could be doing literally anything else, and they chose to summon ghosts. Great.

“I like ghosts. My cat Apples was a ghost once. She came to me in a dream,” said the fourth one. Don’t do drugs, kids, Church thought to himself. Even sitting down Church could tell this guy was tall as hell. Something about him seemed familiar. Fucking druggies. There was always one of those in a group, it seemed.

“That’s nice, Caboose, but we’re not here to summon a dead cat. Don’t think they can talk, anyway,” the first guy- Tucker- said. “Alright, come on. Let’s think of some questions.”

“Ooh, I know. What is your favorite color?” The Caboose guy said. Church felt his face fold into a scowl. He came all this way for this? Who the hell cared about his favorite color? He was a ghost, for Christ’s sake! At least ask about, like, ghost stuff! Or something!

Either way, he was bound to the damn thing. “Hey, look! It’s actually moving,” nerd boy said. Church touched the pointer, sliding it across the board. The four teens started in awe, watching it glide slowly. Church didn’t have fucking time for this.

“Uh… B- wait, no- oh, yeah. B-L-U-D? Blood? Oh my god it’s gonna kill us! Why the hell couldn’t we have just like, watched Star Wars like you guys said we would? Holy shit I don’t wanna die,” the Hawaiian guy said.

“Shut up, Grif, it’s B-L-U-E. Blue. Dumbass,” nerd boy said.

“Oh. Hah. Right,” Hawaiian guy- Grif- continued. “Favorite color blue. Gotcha.”

“This isn’t even real, it’s not like it matters,” nerd boy complained.

“Oh, boo hoo, I’m Simmons and I don’t believe in things I can’t see,” Tucker mocked. “Grow a pair, dude. Grif, your turn for a question.”

“Right. Uh, I guess… What’s your name?”

If Church was able to kill them, he just might. Everyone started with that stupid question. Like, he was never asked anything of relevance. ‘Hey Church, what’s it like being dead?’ ‘Hey Church, do you want us to light a pumpkin candle?’ ‘Hey Church, how do you feel about not eating?’ Nah, instead it was a bunch of bullshit about favorite colors and names. Ugh. It drove Church nuts.

He did toy with the idea of giving his first name. Then again, who respects a ghost named Leonard?

“C---H-U-R-C-H. Church. Huh. That’s a weird name,” Tucker said. He then turned his head to the ceiling, shouting at what he probably thought was Church. “We didn’t ask you your place of worship, dude!” Church sighed.

“Oh look, he’s spelling something out again!” Grif called.

“I-M… okay, I’m, what’s next? Oh. J-E-W-I-S-H. Hey, he’s Jewish,” nerd boy- Simmons- said.

“Never said he was a dude,” Grif said. Simmons bit his lip.

“I- I just hope it’s a dude, I wouldn’t talk well to, uh, lady ghosts I don’t think-” Simmons stuttered out.

“Apples was a lady ghost,” Caboose said. “Oh! I know! Ghosty-man, do you know Apples?” Church laughed. If there was a druggie’s cat-ghost floating around with him, maybe life would be a little more interesting. All four teens started intently as the pointer moved to “No.”

“Whelp, sorry Caboose, looks like our Jewish Church here doesn’t know your dead cat friend,” Tucker said. “Church! Tell me buddy, are you the only ghost here?”

Church looked around the room. Of fucking course he was. Everybody else died and got to go up or down, but Church? He didn’t know. They couldn’t find a place for him, so they stuck him in the middle. Figures. He was alone his entire life, why should his afterlife be any different? He moved the pointer to “Yes.”

“I don’t know guys. I don’t think this is real. Tucker, are you moving it?” Simmons asked.

“The only place my fingers will be moving tonight is inside your sister. Bow chica bow wow.”

“I don’t even have a sister, assbag,” Simmons said. “Now grow up. This is fake and we all know it.” He stood to leave.

“He’s the only reason I’m here. He’s out, I’m out,” Grif said.

“Wait!” Tucker called. “Here, let me- Church! If you’re hearing me, prove you exist. Like, I don’t know, float something or whatever.”

This was another thing Church hated about Ouija boards. The people behind them almost never knew what they were doing.

Church moved the handle to “No” again. Tucker whined.

“Aww, come on man, don’t be like that!” Tucker said. Church rolled his eyes. “Wait guys, don’t leave, he’s moving it again. Uh, C-A-N-T. Can’t. Oh, come on. Dammit, Church,” Tucker said.

“Right. You two have fun with your fake ghost. We all know it’s you,” Simmons said. Caboose looked up at him with wide eyes. “Well, at least, Grif and I do. Now if you don’t mind, I’m gonna head.” He left Tucker’s bedroom, Grif trailing behind.

“Hey, ghost-Church,” Tucker whispered. “If they leave the house, you should haunt their asses.”

Okay. There was one rule of the Ouija board that it bugged the hell outta Church if people didn’t follow. That rule was saying goodbye. Like, not only is it common courtesy, but it leaves the portal stuck here. He’d have to stay in the shitty room where the kids were goofing off, and he couldn’t leave until they opened it again and closed it properly this time. If Church had learned anything about these motherfuckers over the past twenty minutes, it was that they certainly wouldn’t know how to close it. That aside, he didn’t want to see what Tucker got up to in here, his bedroom. Fucking gross.

If they did ask him to do something like a haunting, where he’d need to leave the house, however… and he agreed to it… he wouldn’t be stuck here. That sounded nice.

“S-U-R-E. Oh my god he’s actually gonna haunt them,” Tucker said to Caboose. “Dude I wasn’t being serious.”

“T-O-O, too what? L-A-T-E- oh god, dammit,” Tucker swore. “Fuck.”

“Maybe ghost-Church could say hello to Apples for me. I know they’d be best friends,” Caboose said. He still seemed a little too familiar.

Behind him, Church heard a door close. He followed after the noise, knowing Simmons and Grif to be the culprits. Afterall, he had some haunting to do.

II.

“Ooh, it’s really cold all of a sudden,” Simmons said, wrapping his arms around himself. Church knew that was his fault. Stand too close to someone and wow, it’s like they’re a living icicle.

“It is fall, dumbass,” Grif said. “Here, take my jacket.” He shrugged an orange jacket off of his shoulders, passing it to Simmons.

“You sure?”

“I don’t need a jacket, I’m always hot,” Grif boasted. Church smirked, taking a step closer to Grif. Grif visibly shivered.

“Grif, you’re a fucking liar. Now come on, we can’t just stand here on Tucker’s doorstep all evening. We still on for pumpkins tonight?” Simmons said.

“Oh yeah! I almost forgot about that. My mom did buy them this morning, so they’re ready whenever you are,” Grif said, walking off the porch. Church was all but beaming. Not only did he get to fuck with these bozos, but he fucking loved pumpkins. If only he could eat, man. His (after)life would be complete.

The two of them walked silently, side by side down the autumn streets. Leaves were everywhere. Yellows and oranges and dark reds. It was kinda pretty.

And damn, what Church wouldn’t give to have the energy to read their minds right then. Shame he got so tired after a seance, because usually that wasn’t a problem. The joys of being a ghost, he guessed.

“Hey, Grif, can I ask you something?” Simmons said, looking over.

“Yeah, sure,” Grif said. “You want to borrow the jacket?”

“Uh… y-yeah. Right. Thanks,” Simmons said, his face suddenly flushing red. Grif passed him the coat, and he shrugged it over his shoulders wordlessly. A few moments passed before he said something. “Ugh, it smells like smoke.”

“Well, I smoke, my mom smokes… and I’m pretty sure Kai smokes weed,” Grif said.

“It’s gross. You’re gonna get cancer and die, dumbass,” Simmons said.

“Yep. That’d leave you sad and lonely.”

“Ppsh. Yeah. I don’t know what I’d do without you eating all of my parents’ food and making bad first impressions. And second impressions. And really, all the impressions,” Simmons said sarcastically.

“You eat all my parents food too,” Grif protested.

“Uh, yeah. If by that you mean I eat half a serving and then you finish mine, yours, and Kai’s without even asking, then yes. I do eat all your food,” Simmons said.

“Don’t make me take that jacket back, Simmons,” Grif said.

“Is that a threat?” Simmons said with a chuckle. Church looked between the two of them. He was having trouble telling if they hated each other’s guts or there was just a lot of, uh… tension. Romantic tension? Sexual tension? Friendly tension? Just plain regular tension? It beat Church.

They arrived at Grif’s house a couple minutes later. He opened the door, sliding into the house. It wasn’t even locked. Church was pretty sure that when he was alive, he must have been born in a city, because he hated unlocked doors. Something about them just set him off. He wasn’t sure what. Simmons shut the door behind him and Grif, and Church took a bit of his energy to lock it. Something about unlocked doors, man.

“Sister! Mom! You guys home?” Grif called. No one responded. “Whelp. Guess it’s just you and me, Simmons.” Grif waltzed into the kitchen, checking twice for good measure. Nope. No one else was here. A line of six pumpkins sat on the counter next to the stove, and some newspaper was spread out across the floor.

It kind of reminded Church of when he was a kid. It wasn’t a clear memory- those rarely occur- but it sort of seemed like something he’d done. The spreading out the newspaper, cutting off the lid, collecting the pumpkin seeds to put in the oven… It was familiar to Church.

Something about that made him wonder what year he’d died. He had no idea.

“Cool. Let’s grab some knives, it looks like we’ve got some pumpkins to carve,” Simmons said. Grif grinned.

“Hell yeah we do,” Grif said. He pulled down two of the six pumpkins off the counter. “Bigger one or smaller one?”

“Eh, whichever one you don’t want,” Simmons said.

“Dude. It’s a pumpkin. Just pick one,” Grif said, sitting down on the newspaper. Simmons plucked two knives from the butcher’s block, sitting down next to Grif.

“Fine. I’ll take the smaller one,” Simmons said.

“Hey, I’ve always said size doesn’t matter, it’s what you do with it,” Grif joked. Simmons gave a forced smile.

“Heh, yep,” he said quickly. His cheeks were going red.

“Oh, relax. Grab the pumpkin, nerd,” Grif said.

“You’re a fucking pumpkin,” Simmons muttered under his breath.

“I heard that,” Grif said, nodding his head. “And Simmons, you know I can’t let that pass.”

“Grif, Grif, don’t- Grif-” Simmons said, but it was too late. Grif tucked his fingers into Simmons’ side, tickling him relentlessly. “Grif, Grif!” Simmons chuckled.

“I’ve got you now!” Grif called, laughing himself. Simmons had fallen over, sprawled out across the newspaper, giggles leaving his mouth.

Church stared down at the whole thing with one eyebrow cocked. What the hell.

Grif pulled away, panting with laughter. “Are you really out of breath from tickling me? Wow. You really are a fatass,” Simmons said.

“Kissass,” Grif panted out, falling next to him on the papers.

Simmons met Grif’s eyes. They just sat there for a second, making weird eye contact for longer than Church knew to be normal. Or at least, thought to be normal. Was everyone more comfortable with each other in the future? It beat Church.

Grif’s eyes flicked down for a second. Just a second. But Church knew what that meant. Simmons tilted his head, his eyes closing.

That’s when they heard someone pulling the door.

“Hey, dirtbags! Who’s bright idea was it to lock the door?” A harsh, almost southern accent filled the front of the house.

Grif groaned, rolling away from Simmons. Simmons jolted up, rushing to get to the door.

“Sorry sir,” Simmons called, “It was probably Grif.”

“That no good, lazy, son of a gun…” the southern man said, his words trailing into muttering.

Within the few seconds of the man coming to the door, both Grif and Simmons’ demeanors changed entirely. The two of them went from being relaxed and content and- maybe about to kiss?- to Grif starfished out on the floor grumpily while Simmons was wearing the biggest grin in existence. Church didn’t know what was going on, but he wasn’t sure he liked it.

Simmons unlocked the door, grinning up at the man who stood behind it. He had greying hair with a military buzz cut, and a bit of stubble surrounding a firm scowl. “Took you long enough,” he said.

“Sorry, sir. Grif and I were about to start carving pumpkins,” Simmons said. “Would you care to join us?”

“Join you? Grif, how dare you start pumpkin carving without your dear brother!” the man called. He pushed past Simmons into the house. Simmons, instead of protesting, just sat up straighter. He struck Church as the type to always be eager to please. The man made his way to Grif, looking down at him sprawled out on the newspaper. “At least wait for Donut.”

“Listen here, dickhead,” Grif said, sitting up from his position on the floor. “Just because you got with my mom doesn’t make you my dad. And it sure as hell doesn’t make that stupid son of yours my brother!”

Oh. Now Church could see what was going on. This man was Grif’s stepdad. That Donut guy was his step-brother. Got it.

“Oh, hey boys!” Someone else was standing in the doorway, looking between Simmons and Grif with a grin. Just by his looks Church could tell this guy was named Donut. He just… looked like a Donut. Short blonde hair, a pink tank top tucked into denim short shorts- if that didn’t scream Donut, Church didn’t know what did.

“You know what? Fuck this. I’m going to Simmons’ place. At least his parents seem to ignore me,” Grif said.

“My parents hate you, Grif,” Simmons said.

“As they should! All you do is eat and sleep! Why can’t you be more like Simmons here, listening when people tell him things-”

“Really? Thank you, sir!” Simmons said.

“-and then misreading them entirely, messing it all up! At least that’s humorous!” the step-dad said with a hearty chuckle. Simmons took a second, his face falling.

“Don’t talk to him like that,” Grif said. He stood at his full height, narrowing his eyes at the man. “Come on, Simmons. We’re leaving.”

“Yeah. See you later, Sarge. Bye, Donut,” Simmons said, following Grif outta the house with a shrug. Church sighed. He really wanted the smell of pumpkins.

With that, Church felt a tugging feeling in his gut, like his stomach was being dragged up his throat by a vacuum cleaner. He knew what that meant. Another seance! Great. Just what he fucking wanted.

III.

“Dear father, son, and holy ghost- we come with peace in our hearts and curiosity as our intention. We wish no harm and only to learn of the other world. Vile spirits be warned. Amen,” started the first guy.

“Amen,” the group chorused. That group being distinguishably recognizable. Dammit. Church was ready to kill a man.

This was probably the last place he’d wanted to be. But, as cruel as fate is- he was back in Tucker’s bedroom.

This time, though, an Indian looking teen in a purple hoodie was leading the seance, blocky black glasses over his closed eyes. He’d gone and lit some candles, too. They weren’t pumpkin candles, but hey. It was close enough. At least someone had some respect for the undead.

“Peaceful spirit, we ask you to please state your name,” hoodie said, pressing his fingers lightly against the pointer. His eyes flickered open. The group- consisting of Tucker, Caboose, and some blonde guy in gray and yellow- followed suit.

Church sighed. He was so sick of this.

“C-H-U-R-C-H. Oh, hey there, Church, buddy!” Tucker called. “I was hoping you’d be back.”

“I wasn’t,” Church grumbled, but it fell upon deaf ears.

“Church! We wanted to tell you not to haunt Grif and Simmods!” Caboose said. His eyes were squeezed tight, as if he was trying to mimic the guy in the hoodie. He wasn’t doing it very well.

“His name is Simmons, you fucknut,” Tucker said. “Anyway. You can stop haunting them or whatever, but first you should definitely tell us any dirt you caught on them. Any secrets? Any mystery women? I mean, come on. Grif strikes me as the type to hold an illegal sex ring.”

Church had never realized the capacity of stupidity. These people freakin’ embodied it.

“Grif wouldn’t. I wouldn’t put it passed you, Tucker, but then again, I wouldn’t put much of anything passed you,” the blonde guy said. His whole face said ‘exasperated.’

“Why are you even here, Wash?” hoodie said. “You are obviously a skeptic of the supernatural arts. I can read it all over your face.”

Blondie-- Wash-- rolled his eyes. “I was told there would be cats. As of yet, I have seen no cats,” he deadpanned.

“Cats? Did you see Apples? I want to see Apples!” Caboose shouted, his eyes slamming open.

“Seriously. Shut up,” Tucker said. “Back on topic, Church! What did you dig up on our friends?”

Church moved the pointer with a sigh. These people were ridiculous.

“T-H-E okay the, wait not the, T-H-E-Y-’-RE. They’re. They’re what?” Tucker translated. “G-A- game? Y. They’re- oh.” Tucker paused. “They’re… They’re gay.”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Wash said. “Have you seen the two of them?”

“I knew it! I always thought Simmons was a secretly a gay robot,” Caboose insisted. Church raised an eyebrow. For as strange as that sentence was, he swore he’d heard it before, somewhere.

“Ppsh. No you didn’t. That’s what you used to say about… uh, Leo,” Tucker said. At those words, everyone got real quiet. Wash’s head hung down. Hoodie bit his lip. There was something going on, and Church couldn’t tell what.

“Tucker,” Caboose said. His voice was lower than usual, almost at a whisper. “I miss him.”

“Me too, buddy,” Tucker said. He moved his hands from the pointer, swinging an arm around Caboose’s shoulders. “Me too.” Caboose’s eyes stayed locked on the board. He wasn’t moving.

“Caboose. It wasn’t your fault,” hoodie said.

“Thanks, Doc,” Caboose whispered. “But you do not have to play pretend. I did bad.” It almost looked like he was going to cry.

“He was your best friend. There’s no way you would have done that on purpose.” Wash said.

Church took a second, looking at the people across the room.

That’s when it hit him.

Church had that feeling again. The stomach sucked through a vacuum cleaner kind of feeling. Except this time, he wasn’t travelling in space. His mind was going back in time.

A flashback. A flashback of when he was alive.

He knew where he was, somehow. He was outside Michael’s house. He stood with his hands in his pockets, a beige newsboy cap over his messy black hair. He could kind of see his breath, if he tried really hard. He had to squint to really see it.

He must’ve been like, eleven at the time.

It was such a vivid picture. For the minutes it took, Church felt like he was actually there. The details of Tucker’s bedroom faded out as the muted yellows of Michael’s house faded over his vision.

He rapped his knuckles on the screen door, waiting a couple of seconds. Church rocked back and forth on his heels. It was mighty cold outside, especially for the time of year. Leaves were a muted brown and red, occasionally bright yellows sticking through. It was October. His birthday was coming up. He was gonna be a big twelve year old soon, and he couldn’t wait. One more year until he could actually get into PG-13 movies in the theatres! He wished his mom was still around. Maybe she could have taken him. God knows his dad wouldn’t.

“Michael! Hey, Michael! Michael J. Caboose, open the damn door!” He called to the upstairs window. Of course he didn’t think to try the handle. It was always locked. That’s how the Caboose family was- always locking things.

This was the one time they didn’t.

Church rocked on his heels again, whistling some melody off key. Two flights of stairs up, a certain Michael leaned over the window, looking down at Church with a grin on his face. Boy, was Leo gonna love him! He had the funniest idea for a prank. All he had to do was startle him, drop the thing twenty feet to his left, and laugh about it later. Nothing could go wrong. It was the perfect plan.

Church didn’t hear the window upstairs slide open. He certainly didn’t see the bright orange of a pumpkin being pushed out of said window, a smiling Caboose looking down over him. And he definitely wasn’t awake long enough to feel the brute force of the impact, the pumpkin smacking into his head and his head smacking the cement. It all happened too fast.

Caboose’s smile slipped slightly.

“Hey guys, we’re back. We- oh, come on. You’re still playing with that ghost bullshit?” Simmons’ voice interrupted. Church’s flashback came to an abrupt end. Grif and Simmons stood at the door, Grif peering over Simmons’s shoulder. His eyes were trained on Church, almost as if he could see him. But he couldn’t. No one could.

Church took a step back, suddenly heartbreakingly aware of the people in the room.

Tucker. Lavernius Tucker. He’d lived on Second Street, right down the block from Church’s house. They’d learned to ride bikes together.

And Doc. Frank DuFresne. That idiot thought he could heal anything, though he’d barely even earned his nickname. Hell, Church was the one that gave it to him. Once put a band-aid on Church’s mouth to get him to shut up.

Simmons. Richard. And Dexter Grif! They were the two kids on the playground who would always fight over who got the basketballs at recess… Dexter would only fight Dick about it to piss him off, and Dick would throw a hissy fit. God. It seemed like forever ago.

Wash didn’t ring that many bells, but even Donut was starting to seem familiar. He knew them. He’d known them.

And Caboose.

He’d killed him.

“And like, dude,” Tucker continued talking to Caboose, as if Simmons and Grif still weren’t there. “We’re not stupid. We know why you turned to ecstasy in the first place. But like, man. It’s really fucked you over,” he said. “It’s been five years. You need some closure or some shit.”

Caboose still hadn’t moved his eyes from the Ouija board. Church took a second, looking at this broken man. He was labelled as a murderer at twelve years old. And, as Church slowly realized, he’d turned to drugs to forget about that. To forget about the one time he fucked up and ended his best friend’s life.

But he couldn’t.

Church didn’t have much energy left, but damn if he wasn’t going to try his best. No hands were left on the pointer. In the moment, that didn’t matter.

“Wh- guys, it’s moving. What?” Simmons said. He took a step further into the room, Grif on his tail.

“What’s it say, what’s it say?” Tucker said.

“Will you be quiet? The spirit is trying to contact us, how could it possibly think over all this chatter? What you guys need is some Chamomile tea, that’d calm you down,” Doc said.

“Doc, shut up, I’m trying to read it,” Grif said, squeezing into the circle. All six of them crowded around the board, watching quietly as Church moved the pointer slowly, carefully. All of his energy was going into this. It was all he had.

“Caboose. It’s me. It’s Leo,” Church muttered, using the pointer to spell his words as he spoke them. “Leonard Church. I’m here.”

“Holy shit. Holy fuck he’s here,” Tucker said. “Holy shit.”

“Maybe this is the reason I stuck around, my unfinished business. It’s been years, dude. I’ve always been here,” Church said. Caboose’s eyes were going glassy. He still hadn’t moved from his position, and hadn’t uttered a word. “I just wanted to say I forgive you. I do. It wasn’t your fault. I mean, yeah, it kind of was, but you didn’t mean it to be.” At this point in his speech, Doc had begun writing his words down letter for letter. Church noticed this, and used it as an excuse to move the pointer a little faster. “You aren’t defined by mistakes, Caboose. Michael. You’re defined by your decisions.”

Caboose pulled his knees up to his chest, blinking his eyes hard and fast. This was getting too much for him.

“And I mean, yeah. You’re a fucking dumbass. And so am I, I guess. But I’m starting to think it’s time to let go.” He paused the pointer here, looking around the room. Six faces stared at his hands intently. Five people he’d known his whole life, but hadn’t known until just a few minutes ago. Candles were lit around him, and faintly in the October air, he could smell a trace of pumpkins. It was time to go. “I’ll say hi to your cat, buddy, if I see her,” Church said. “Good luck.” With that, Church used the last shred of his energy. He moved the pointer hesitantly to the ‘Goodbye.’

Six faces looked up, searching each other to better understand. Their friend was gone, but up until now, he wasn’t really. No one said a word.

Huh. Church had always wondered what would happen when he ran out of energy.

He guessed he’d find out.

#rvb bingo wars #blue team entry #halloween #church #grimmons if you squint #not really #it's kinda more church being an assuming asshole #what's new though amirite #leonard l. church #ghost church #grif #simmons #tucker #doc #caboose #agent washington #wash

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hellstate--rp-blog · 7 years

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↪ b a s i c s ;

N A M E: Vanessa ‘Mama’ Hendricks A G E: 43 P L A C E O F O R I G I N: Montgomery, Alabama G R O U P: V. A. Medical Center O C C U P A T I O N: Leader F C: Queen Latifah

❝ Nothing will work unless you do. ❞

↪ p e r s o n a l i t y ;

P O S I T I V E T R A I T S: wise ; asssertive N E G A T I V E T R A I T S: domineering ; sarcastic

↪ b i o g r a p h y ;

L I F E B E F O R E T H E O U T B R E A K:

The center of the community, that’s what she was. If there was a fundraiser, a car wash or festivities in the local park Mama was involved. If there was something to be done she was the woman on hand to make sure it got done right. And it had always been that way. She’d raised two brothers and a sister on that same motivated spirit. Early mornings filled with complaints for her twelve year old ears as she readied her younger siblings for another day. While they seemed to struggle to brush their teeth right she pushed through horrid slurred words from her father and the lack of any kind of maternal figure. There was no praise for the work she did, it was all mice work. Early morning shuffling and the late night scuttling, all behind the scenes magic that allowed the world to keep turning. She was sure that if she stopped the world would turn anyway but she didn’t want to risk it. Soon her brothers and her sister were old enough to put cereal into their own bowls and walk themselves to school and she let them. Not a mother, but gifted instincts far beyond her years. The situation wasn’t the worst it could have been, but she certainly did make the most of the bad she’d had to deal with.

Her father found a woman, an ill-fated woman who had love in her heart for him. She moved into their home and her name was uncomfortable. It was uncomfortable to say as much as it was to hear. That woman was her ‘not-mother’ who had made an appearance much to late. Vanessa already held the world in her chest, holding so many seams together as best she could. This stranger in her house tried so desperately to call herself mother, to do as a mother did but she couldn’t even begin to understand. She didn’t have children of her own and believed that she could just step in and live the life rather than earning the stripes. Vanessa could only watch the woman make beds the wrong way for so long. The house stopped being home for her, it had turned into a aged house that anyone could have lived in. It was not the house where her sister broke her arm after a silly stairs jumping stunt to impress her brothers. It wasn’t the house that three pre-prom parties had seen, food for everyone and pictures to last a life time. Vanessa wanted her home again, but knew that she’d have to make her own.

She worked jobs that had endless days. Where clocking in felt like clocking out and breaks were reserved for sleeping. Every day was a work day, the money was never enough and being tired had become an emotion in her mind. The money went into rent on one of the smallest dorms she’d seen when in search of colleges. While loans piled up around her she adored her college life. Education was why she’d gone to college, to learn and then to teach. Four years and a masters degree later she was Ms Hendricks to her students. All of their glazed eyes just made her work harder. There was no praise to be had in the early days and she didn’t need it to do everything in her power for those children. Vanessa believed that in high school so many kids didn’t realise the paths they had until they’d already found themselves half way down one of the possible routes. To her, her job was to educate and to clear all paths so that those young minds could really see their potential. Lemons were never lemons around that woman, they were lemonade to be shared with every soul she met. When not in school she did everything she could for the local church and community. It didn’t matter if people didn’t believe, once they were coming together positively they were working in the way the Lord had intended. She was the driving force within the community, the soon to be principal of the local high school. But plans always did change and the outbreak scuppered the future she’d seen for herself.

L I F E D U R I N G T H E O U T B R E A K:

At first she’d done everything in her power to keep the people calm. The local community had met in the church for a vigil. They prayed for the world and for each other but that didn’t seem to stop madmen from looting and turning their town riotous. Slowly people began to peel away from their refuge, choosing to run or choosing to join the madness. Vanessa stayed with her people, she stayed with the faces she recognised and held their hands as they wept over what had happened. It seemed to happen so quickly and so devastatingly. Slow news reports lacking details and then soon the world was deafened by atrocities only ever portrayed in movies. There was a sadness that was felt around her edges, but her strength and determination didn’t wane. How could she give in to grief when there were so many that looked to her? Instead she led prayers and invited people to speak on how they were feeling and she attempted to quell the fears they had. But that serenity didn’t last long.

The food began to run low. Families whispered amongst themselves about new plans and friends attempted to ration themselves more than what they were due. It was falling apart at the seams while Vanessa did everything in her hold it together. Mothers and fathers began to complain about their children’s hunger and then their own. The doors of the church were swinging with each little group that left; one by one until she was left with a group that had nowhere else to go. They were ones that never missed a Sunday mass and ones who all had houses dedicated to the Lord that they knew was going to save them. They needed a leader and she was the figure head they were used to, the woman that mothered them all in times of need. Everyone in the neighborhood called her Mama and a mother never let her people down.

But then the food ran out. There was nothing left for them in that church bar a closer connection to God. She knew they had to leave and find somewhere to go, but it was difficult. Vanessa was leading people on a path they could only see with each new step they took. First it was the outskirts of their town, then the edge of the state line. It was hard to keep the group motivated but Vanessa knew they’d come across something if they just kept pushing through. Cheyenne had slowly become their focus with so many telling them that it held supplies and a collection of survivors. She knew that she needed direction to keep the group at her back following. Some were lost along the way via attacks and raiders attempting to rob them blind, but after twenty six days of trekking they made it to Wyoming. Mama V had led her people, she’d done right by them and could have collapsed right then and there with gratitude for the ability to due so.

L I F E A F T E R T H E O U T B R E A K:

The group decided that rather than moving on right away they might stay awhile. Some did stay on the outskirts of camps and things while others decided to move on and Vanessa waved them off as they went. The world was in a time where saying goodbye really did feel like the last time. When she thought about herself and what was right for her she felt drawn to the sense of community within the camps. Vanessa took on the leadership roll at the V.A. Medical Center because she felt it was the position she was succeed in most. It was the one thing that allowed her some normalcy in all the chaos that surrounded Cheyenne. The medical supplies were abundant and she looked at the camp as a Mecca for those in need and she happily stood by that. Her work ethic was a simple one, that they all worked for each other. The more work they put in, the more successful the camp would be. She relied on goodwill and comradery create a welcoming and warm environment for survivors.

Vanessa didn’t change much. Perhaps she’d hardened a little and gotten kinder to make up for the darkness of the end of the world. But she was still the same rambunctious woman she’d always been. She insisted the friends called her Mama and that if they ever needed anything then they were to come to her. Vanessa was a problem solver, there was no situation too adverse and no question too heavy to ask. Of course, there are some evenings where she looks back on the crux that her life had been in and wonders what it would have been like. Principal Hendricks, the bigger office and a whole school really looking to her as the example. Maybe she would have met someone that year, someone who would have stayed and then she could have had kids of her own. It’d been all she’d ever wanted. Someone to call her Mama who actually had the birthright to say it. But with how busy she kept herself the thoughts were always soon waved away and she plunged herself into doing as much as she could to make the best of her new little family.

#queen latifah #rp #rpg #semi appless rp #semi appless rpg #semi appless roleplay #a.#f.#40 #v.a.#jess jr.#vanessa hendricks.

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thehillneedstowrite · 7 years

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I never understood why I wasn’t allowed to sleep in on Saturdays.

Normally, when one is five years old, wake-up times would vary on Saturday mornings, and a slow getting out of bed would be followed by what was called Saturday morning cartoons. The whole idea never made much sense to me, why would anyone have time to watch TV if everyone had school on Saturday?

I was two years old when I started my Saturday German classes. My parents, upon deciding that becoming bilingual would be the best way to spend my time on Saturdays, enrolled me in a class with the Deutsche Sprachshule (translation: German language school) and had me awake at 7.00 every Saturday for me to finish homework, conjugate some verbs and name objects around the house in German as well as their articles before the descent to hell began.

Of all things, there was nothing I hated more than the 15-minute drive to German school every Saturday. From the age of two up to the age of sixteen, I would sit in my mum’s average-size Toyota with nylon seats, waiting for her to park in the main entrance of some massive building and we would walk in together, hand-in-hand, as though I was going to forget where my imminent death had lain.

The cold tiled floor and the open, large foyer that lead into the school did not provide me the atmosphere of learning that one could define as comfortable. The foyer, splitting into three hallways, smelt in the summer of bleach and lemon cleaning product and was only lit by the large windows that encompassed the door. In the winter, there was little light and the smell of damp shoes would fill the space- one would find it preferable to hold one’s breath when walking in. To the left was the only hallway that – to my knowledge – actually existed in this large rectangle of a place that, when I learned to read, was called “Winston Churchill High School.” Not understanding what any of those words meant altogether, I continued my lessons, agitated by the smallest of things: pens tapping on desks, kids who read out loud, and worst of all: people who rubbed the square, multi-coloured puzzle mats that you see in kindergarten classes together to create static, which would magically attract dirt for no reason whatsoever.

The floors often felt grimy and were just as cold as one would imagine the temperature outside to be in the middle of January. The desks were oddly attached to their chairs which often had baskets underneath (“They are for the children who attend class here over the week” my first grade teacher, frau Schertzinger [translation: love singer] explained). Still confused by the fact that there were people who would willingly go here during the week (I could barely survive one day), I stood up from my place on the floor and went over to the windows. It had started to snow in mid-November that year, and I was only thinking about the hot chocolate I would get when I got home.

That’s not to say that the lessons hadn’t paid off.

By the time I entered kindergarten, I was reading in both German and English, and, to the delight of my mum and the fear of my father, preferred to converse and write in German.

If German school was confusing, the concept of Kindergarten was like rocket science. “Why am I going this way?” I would ask my father as we waited for the sun-coloured school bus to pick me up in the morning.

He asked me to repeat the question, in English this time.

I kept my mouth shut. It wasn’t important anyway.

Walking down the short and narrow corridors of yet another school, the only thing that shared any resemblance to my weekend hell was the tiles on the floor. The finger paint, the sensation of sand between your nails and recess were all alien to me. Was I allowed to come here every day? Where was the signs with impossibly long words on them? Where was frau Eeble yelling at me to colour between the lines? Why was my name written on a coat hook and on a spot on the floor? Where were all my friends from German school? Were they late?

I soon realized that everything I liked from German school wasn’t allowed here. I couldn’t pass notes to other students (because they couldn’t read them) and I wasn’t allowed to leave morning circle to look out the window to the trees and the seemingly never-ending street outside. My day was structured, boring and predictable. Soon I got tired of not talking to anyone and took to the limited bookshelf that stood often untouched in miss Iaccobellis’ classroom.

The teachers called my father into school one day and invited him to “observe Johanna’s day-to-day actions within the classroom”. I remember him staying for about ten minutes, then asking if he could talk to my teacher, followed by him leaving.

The next day, I was taken out of class and put into, what I now understand as, an ESL course. When they found out my mum came from a non-English speaking country, they figured the German influence was so large at home that it was hindering my success as an English speaker, which would explain why I didn’t talk to other children or respond to anything but my name.

Little did they know I understood perfectly well what was going on and I chose not to respond. One of my strongest memories was walking up the cold, salt-smelling stairs, holding the cold handrail, making my way up to the small classroom that was to be my ESL class until I convinced my imposing teachers that I was able to comprehend their mindless nattering and gossip.

ESL began to remind me of German class. Nouns, verbs, flash-cards galore, the only thing out of place was my teacher, miss Scenge. With grey hair as crazily wound as she was catholic, she stood about four feet tall and wore the most hideous of black shoes that could have possibly existed on earth. She would take me and my fellow classmate, best-friend-to-be, Brandon as well as a couple of first and second graders and have us sit in a circle as she droned on and on about how some words sound the same and how some words rhyme with other words. She would continue by going impossibly slowly through the alphabet and explaining how the letters s and h together make the sound “shhhhhhh” and would put her finger over her mouth. 2004’s teaching tactics required visual stimulants to otherwise boring and self-explanatory concepts.

After the second month of ESL, I had memorized the layout of the room. Scenge refused to turn the light on (something about the grass colour really inspired her), so the single one-meter by one-meter window provided minimal light to the narrow, white-walled, green-tiled floor that occupied what was now the most boring half hour of my life. There were days when I wished I could go back to German school, knowing that I would have a considerably more entertaining time, should I be there as opposed to here, in which desks that were too high and a woman reading the same alphabet book over and over and over again to occupy my time.

One day, miss Iaccobellis came into the ESL room and asked to see if Brandon and I were progressing at all.

“Johanna?” Scenge called my name, slowly. Ringing out every single syllable as though she was trying to spell out a word like flachswichser (translation: flat wanker) which would be a word that, if I had known it at the time, I would have liked to call her. “Would. You. Like. To. Show. Miss. Iaccobellis. You. New. Reading. Trick?”

Anything to get you to stop talking to me like an idiot, please.

I grabbed Scenge’s alphabet book and read it. It wasn’t a read, moreso than I reciting of lines from a plat. “The cat is C. The cat goes meow” flip. “The dog is D. The dog goes woof” flip. I cared so little about the words or the content of this book that I kept flipping the pages before the one I had just read hit the other half of the book.

Scenge grinned; she probably thought that she was an accomplished ESL teacher. I let her have her moment.

Miss Iaccobellis smiled at me. “You have a real talent for reading, Johanna. Well done.”

“Thank you, mith yak-o-bell-ith.” The lisp was something that ESL couldn’t help me get rid of.

The two teachers exchanged a look.

I didn’t have to go back to ESL the next day.

Balancing kindergarten with German school became a struggle. I still didn’t talk to any of the other kids in my kindergarten class (except for Brandon, but he still didn’t understand English very well so our conversations consisted mostly of pointing and gestures, as well as nods and headshakes.)

With my mum arranging a custody agreement between the two languages, I spoke English on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, and German on Tuesdays and Thursdays, but Saturday was the most German filled of them all. Sunday, I stayed in my room after church and re-wrote renditions of Little Red Riding hood, in which the wolf was actually a bunny and that Little Red was very afraid of the forest and would imagine big, scary things trying to eat her. Both German and English versions were available, of course.

Time would pass that my German would slip away, but my hatred and resent for German school would not. Regardless of how many months have gone by since my graduation, my heart sinks when I wake up automatically at 7.00, but the power I feel when I can shamelessly roll over is incomparable when I can waste my Saturdays away, never needing to step out of bed and face the horrible world of schoolwork and activities that would cause me to do otherwise.

Fertig.

#memoir #15.02.2017

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