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ammapreker · 5 years

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CELIA ST. CLEMENT 19 / theater actress

[ content warning for alcoholism ]

an inescapable need for more ∘ blurry memories ∘ waking up inexplicably bruised ∘ forgetting yesterday ∘ tangled limbs ∘ stage lights spilling across an empty stage ∘ crumbling flower petals ∘ shakespeare’s words caressing careful tongues ∘ empty wine bottles rolling against hardwood floors » a dramatic creature with a mercurial temperament / some days, her jovial moods can conjure only the bright beam she makes herself into; others, the shadows hang closer, shrouding her in darkness / her sister’s mirror image, only just noticing the spidery cracks crawling through the glass / widely considered the dark shadow to clara’s gleaming light, but perhaps it was always the other way around (or, better yet, maybe neither of them could ever have made a claim at innocence) / drowns her traumas in alcohol even before scarlet floods her palms, a symbol of her guilt that can’t be washed away / sobs harden in her throat, echoes of how could we have— silenced roughly before she speaks the final words, makes them real / life, she begins to believe, woozy with alcohol and drugs as her feet drag across a stage, has lost all sense of reality / regret seeps into her bones, flooding her senses until only two artifacts of her former life remain: the flask hidden within her pockets and the lie that keeps them safe—for now.

connections » clara st. clement [twin sister] / shiloh spencer [co-actor]

needs » the rest of the murder crew / theater actors for the shakespeare festival / former (and/or current) lovers / drinking buddies

DAWSON HUGO 35 / songwriter

piano notes spilling from a dark room ∘ whispered temptations ∘ subtle humor ∘ hidden desires ∘ script-filled notebooks ∘ creeping loneliness ∘ a toe stepped carefully over the line ∘ secrets locked behind sealed lips ∘ slipping into the darkening night » a lesson on monetizing the thoughts swirling in his mind, the temptations beating in his heart / a man who came from just above nothing and now has everything he’s ever wanted—or does he? / a former keyboardist in a band that never made it who’s risen on the back of his own penned verses / doesn’t feel pity for the bandmates whose lives he once knew as well as his own, rarely seeing them after their fall / he knows he’s gifted, talented, creative—perhaps too well / even so, he feels safer in the shadows—unremembered by crowds, sought by artists wishing to give voice to his scrawls / a dreamer who plucked his dreams and thrust them into reality before finding they’d lost their glimmer / unsatisfied, and reconciled with it (or so he thinks) / jumps from girl to girl and song to song so often, throwing himself into each before his interest wanes / finds a girl for keeps, or so he thinks until another comes his way / pleas of just this once slowly burning away every line he’s never crossed / he steps, and steps, and steps (he thought he was better than this) / he’s drunk on a girl he shouldn’t be, losing himself to the toxicity / addiction’s never felt so sweet.

connections » birdie barnes [roommate & songwriting partner] / daisy howard [girlfriend]

needs » his former bandmates who may or may not hate him for ending up with a songwriting deal even after they crashed and burned (he was the keyboardist) / a brother who never quite got over living in his shadow / exes he’s fooled around with and inevitably left due to prolonged disinterest / friends in the record industry / friends in general / singers he might have worked with in the past

FRANCESCA MANCINI 21 / croupier

[ content warning for murder, hit & run ]

a bookcase filled with whodunnits ∘ expired contacts littering the trash can ∘ waking to an early dawn ∘ fervent “i told you so”’s ∘ a tendency to over-prepare ∘ stepford smiles finally loosening their grip ∘ a desperation for salvation ∘ crippling paranoia ∘ a sudden recklessness ∘ too smart for your own good » the clever girl gone sour, gone cold, gone fearful / once, she might have convinced herself that the bright future she saw before her could remain as it was—true, pure, incapable of being tarnished by any deed she might commit / (she hadn’t known, then, what she’d be capable of) / one moment, they’d been light as air, flooded with victory; the next, a crash had left them plummeting to the ground with no safety net / they keep the secret, cover their tracks—they know how, after all / she thinks, then, of all the crimes she’s witnessed, solved; what would i have done, she’d wondered, to not get caught / perhaps she’d always known that she’d find herself on the opposing side, another criminal aching to bury her secrets / they don’t bury them deep enough; i know what you did, the letters say, promising retribution with words unspoken / all she can think: what will i do to not get caught.

connections » ludovica mancini [sister] / audrey astor, luna graves & the rest of mystery inc. [best friends]

needs » scooby doo-inspired request / co-workers for the illegal gambling den she’s currently working undercover at (with plans to expose them) to feel less guilty / exes galore / friends outside of the scooby gang who she’s likely distanced herself from as a result of what happened / literally anything, she’s completely open!

LIAM HANLON 31 / paralegal

[ content warning for death ]

newspaper pages tossed aside in a flurry ∘ clenched jaws ∘ pulsing migraines ∘ eyes glued to a phone screen ∘ a life passing by, unnoticed ∘ grasping to self-assurance as the world collapses into ruins ∘ burnt coffee ∘ time ticking endlessly away on a watch face ∘ brisk strides ∘ this cannot go on » a man consumed with a future that’s not his own / wants and dreams glisten upon the ladder he’s thrust himself upon, certain that the top will provide everything he wants—a name, a position, a surge of support swelling beneath him as he makes his own political strides / if he ever reaches the top; if he ever manages to pull himself from the outskirts of history into its center / currently a paralegal with dreams of a brighter future that’ll never come to fruition / driving himself mad with impatience and jealousy / stares at the ring on his fiancée’s hand and wonders if it would be better to leave, better to break up the monotony with a complete abandonment of his current life / the death of her sister dismantles any actions he might have taken; their inheritance of a two year old with only an aunt left to claim her submits them to mere fantasies never to be made real / the pressure mounts—the baby’s cries, zara’s grief, his mother’s new book—until the cracks begin to show / it’s only a matter of time before he breaks.

connections » zara şensoy [fiancée]

needs » siblings who are equally f*cked up with a mother whose parenting books delved a little too deeply into their childhoods / exes galore / friends. he’s a lot but he needs them / especially friends with children because he somehow has a baby now???

ROSCOE RYAN 21 / student

unquenchable curiosity ∘ obedient tongues ∘ 20/20 peripheral vision ∘ whispers quieting after stepping foot into a room ∘ a diary full of words unspoken ∘ burying a past with dulcet lies ∘ unrelenting pride ∘ a villain casting himself in the role of the observer, nothing more ∘ imminent betrayal » a boy born to trailer parks and unappeasable parents no, let’s rewrite the story, shall we? / a boy born beneath the glistening stars of los angeles (true) with parents unaffected by his presence (true) and consumed by the monotony of their daily lives (true) as heirs to a fortune passed down from his grandfather (lie) / the moment he steps within the bounded gates of ucla, he reinvents himself, sprinkling importance and wealth into a past bereft of both / the collections of photographs that hang upon his walls impress upon the viewer two facts / the first: the frat he’s grown in, thrived in, means everything to him / the second: his life, as he’d prefer it, began three years prior with his steps upon the college lawns / perfection blooms in every scene, every pose, even as whispers threaten to tarnish the gilded legacy he’s built / did you hear? the students gasp amongst each other, their gazes sliding across every boy decked in the letters of sigma chi / the rumors—hazing, terror, oh my god, is he—spread like wildfire / still, the kid won’t speak / still, guilt hovers above them all, awaiting a place to rest.

connections » pierce griffin [fraternity brother] / bambi wheeler [former friend & neighbor]

needs » frat boy crew (request to come!) / miscellaneous hook ups / old trailer park acquaintances he’ll pretend not to know / someone to tell him his frat almost put the blame on him for the hazing incident

SILAS GRAVES 24 / vampire bartender

last night’s glitter clinging to your skin ∘ hollow laughter ∘ cheshire grins ∘ jumping into pools fully clothed ∘ fake blood recipes ∘ coffins are rather comfy, you know ∘ locking memories away ∘ empty wine bottles cluttered around sinks ∘ gathering fog ∘ dark streets slick with rain ∘ sink your teeth in » a boy who glorifies in bringing the traits of the undead into the land of the living / is it all real, or just an act? that’s a secret sealed behind reddened lips, one he’ll take to his grave / you can only guess as rants regarding edward cullen spill between the would-be vampire and his audience, compelled—by curiosity, by magic, who can say?—to listen the dulcet tones of his voice uninhibited by the fangs curling around his teeth / believes himself untouchable, untethered—free / still, his past clings to him, pulling him backwards at every turn even as he crushes the memories that seek to undo him / he’s nothing more than this—a glitter-clad man longing to be a monster known from fables / untouchable, untethered to the reality that everyone else finds themselves bound to / that, there, is true freedom.

connections » oskar björk [employer] / fleur zhao [being catfished by her]

needs » additional coworkers for the horror bar / exes, currents (flings and flirts) / people for him to argue with about the merits of edward cullen’s popularity amongst vampires / more people for the adoptive graves fam / friends who either embrace or ignore his weirdnesses / literally anything else

SPENCER LINDSAY 23 / con artist

ghosting™ ∘ sharp stilettos clacking on a subway car ∘ longing for a stranger’s touch ∘ swollen lips ∘ empty houses ∘ discarded half-smoked cigarettes ∘ strawberry milkshakes ∘ silent screams ∘ hope lingering just out of reach ∘ a crunch of glass underfoot ∘ never look back » a ghost, haunting the remnants of her former life / past spencer lindsay: beautiful, popular, a bright future gleaming in her eager palms / current spencer lindsay: beautiful, nameless, stolen money and jewelry sparkling against the bright gleam of a street lamp / the division: a fortune nearly lost, a mother’s desperate act, a stepfather’s final breath / her father’s fraud charges and subsequent rush out of the us barely merited a recollection outside her social circle; her mother’s murder trial, however, summoned the attention of los angeles and it held her captive / her mother loses; she disappears in the night—door left open, a broken wine glass scattered in pieces on the living room floor, a closet full of clothes she couldn’t carry with her / no investigation can cease the steady stream of rumors even now—dead, killed, gone / she waits in the wings, knowing she should never have come back, unable to keep herself away.

connections » nicholas hawthorne [ex-boyfriend] / benji wyatt [ex-boyfriend] / chloe valentine [con besties] / willa de witte [former best friend]

needs » the o.c. crew (request coming shortly) / people to steal from / the bling ring crew (request to come!) / exes from her high school days / people to hook up with while she pines away / people she f*cked over back in the day / people she’s f*cking over now / someone who knows her by one of her other aliases and who she may or may not have stolen from (oops) / people who/whose families her dad stole from back in the day who might be holding a grudge

TRISTAN BENNET 22 / runaway

crooked smiles ∘ unspoken desperation ∘ dreams warring against doubt ∘ ripping away old skins ∘ the growing ease of a lie ∘ worn sneakers ∘ festering distrust ∘ crumpled bills stuffed into pockets ∘ rush of adrenaline ∘ being watched ∘ shoes pounding against asphalt » formerly a texas boy, he’s since shed his accent, his history, his very own name—the only truth he’s maintained is his sister / they stole away in the night on the eve of the wedding their parents had forced upon her, giving up their lives as they knew them for a chance at freedom / freedom is: devouring every matt damon and ben affleck movie they can get their hands on, learning the twists of the boston accents they’ve affected; bringing their sister back from the dead as their “connection” to los angeles, forcing their memories of her into the role of hopeful young actress dreaming of the big screen; learning to force smiles upon his lips as nerves eat away at the blessed happiness that had encompassed him upon their escape / it’s terrifying in its splendor, in its ephemerality / he thinks: if they find out. he thinks: they can’t. / spends his nights waking to every footstep outside the motel door and his days jumping at each and every craigslist ad he can get his hands on / the money he’d stolen as a second thought dwindles in his palms and he’s starved for safety, for survival / he thinks: what might i do, for that.

connections » juliet bennet [sister] / the shakespeare theatre crew [he works part-time backstage]

needs » friends are likely in short supply since he tends to keep himself ~under the radar~, but he should have some anyway / maybe a drug dealer for him to get involved with to make more $$$ / people with some fun craigslist requests for interesting threads / potential make outs now that he’s ~free~ and able to explore his sexuality (he’s a virgin, please be gentle) before he ghosts them

#throwshaderp #m: development #please kill me if i make any more.

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thats-immortality · 5 years

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hi everyone! in honor of reaching 500 followers here (woo!) i wanted to write a little something to celebrate. as you all know, our little emison family is hurting right now, so i thought i would take the opportunity to write their current situation my way, and how i hope it will come to turn out. but otherwise, enjoy my loves and thank you for 500 followers xx

———————————————————————

It had been a long day. Too long of a day. Her students had given her a hard time about their grades, which were absolutely deserved. Exams were coming up. She would be having her TA evaluation soon and her nerves were utterly shot.

And on top of it, she missed her girls. More than anything.

It had been a few days since she’d talked to them. With everything going on at BHU and the cops circling every hour on the hour, she thought it best to keep a little bit of distance. It was easier that way, she could keep them safe.

But it had quieted down for the evening, all the cops had returned to the station for the evening and the majority of the students were holed up in their dorms cramming for exams. It had just turned 3am and Alison knew that her time was now.

She climbed up on her desk chair and unplugged the Beacon Guard from the wall. She then reached into her purse and grabbed the small metal contraption that Mona had faceted for her. Mona swore it would work, but it was the first time that Alison would be using it, and she admitted to no one in particular that she was nervous. The contraption was supposed to disrupt any frequencies that may or may not be listening in on Alison’s apartment. Each and every day Alison was more and more convinced that every inch of this campus was bugged, her apartment being absolutely no exception.

She searched for the small switch on the side and flicked it on. And just as Mona instructed, she counted to 15. That was supposed to be enough of a grace period for the little machine in Alison’s hands to work and transmit a faulty audio to whoever may be listening.

God did she hope this would work. She didn’t know if she could handle another day without hearing her favorite voices.

She quickly climbed on her couch and got herself comfortable, her favorite blanket from home wrapped tightly around her. She grabbed her phone and dialed the number she knew by heart. She glanced at the clock on her wall. Just past 3:30. 6:30 back in Rosewood. She pressed the call button and, rather impatiently, awaited someone to answer.

“Well, you’re up late,” said a warm voice on the other end of the phone. Alison smiled to herself, that voice always brought her back, grounded her, made her feel right at home no matter how far she might have strayed.

“Well, I had to be sure that I wouldn’t be interrupted,” Alison said, letting herself smile like an utter idiot at the sound of her favorite person’s voice.

“Long day?”

“The longest. Especially because I didn’t talk to you,” Alison said, her mood slightly dampened again.

“Your rules. Remember?” reminding Alison of the rules she had set in place a few days earlier.

“I know, but still. I just hate going all day without hearing from you,” Alison said, trying to bat away the tears from her eyes.

“That makes two of us,” the voice said, rather short.

“You’re still mad at me, aren’t you?” Alison asked, her voice small and quiet.

She heard a deep breath being taken from the other side of the phone.

“No.”

“Liar,” Alison said, chuckling slightly.

“Well, maybe a little,” the voice joined in the laughter.

“I’m sorry,” Alison said, “I really am.”

“I know. I know. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

“It won’t be for much longer. I promise,” Alison said. She was a little worried when there was no response on the other side.

“Do you hear me? Emily, I promise you, this is all for show. All of this. I had to draft up the papers. I had to make it look like you were out of the picture. I had to make sure that I threw everyone off. I couldn’t stomach if you were dragged into this.” Alison said.

“And you think I can? Ali, I have to stop myself every day from buying a plane ticket and getting you the hell out of there!” Emily exclaimed.

“I know, Em. Believe me, I do know. This isn’t easy for me either. But I have to keep you safe. You and the girls. That is the only thing getting me through this every day. You three are the only thing that get me up out of bed in the morning. You’ve always been the one to protect me, but Em, now it’s my turn to protect you. And I need you to be safe,” Ali said, her voice thick with tears.

“I know,” Emily said, in a quiet voice. They’d been having this conversation for days. And even though it was fake, the act of signing divorce papers made them both sick to their stomachs.

“I’m sorry,” Ali said, “I’m sorry that I’m putting you through all of this. God, Em you deserve so much better than this. Than all of this.”

“Stop that,” Emily said, the urgency in her voice cutting right through to Alison, “Don’t do that. Ali, I love you. I love you. Nothing is ever going to change that. No long distance marriage, no murder at some college and certainly not some fake divorce papers. You said it yourself, this is not forever. But we are.”

“I love you,” Alison said, wiping her tears with the back of her hand, “And I miss you.”

“We miss you, too.”

They fell into a normal conversation, discussing the days’ activities and Emily filling Alison in on all the latest preschool drama. Moments like this were amongst some of her favorite things in the world. She wouldn’t mind spending forever getting lost in the sound of Emily’s voice.

“Ali?” Emily asked a few minutes later, breaking their comfortable silence.

“Yeah, babe?”

Emily took a deep breath before answering, “Just don’t-don’t do anything stupid, okay?”

Ali couldn’t help the slight chuckle that escaped her, “Well babe, I think it’s a little late for that.”

“Well, don’t do anything really stupid. I’d still like to have a wife after all of this is over, if you don’t mind. Disregarding the divorce papers, of course.”

Ali laughed again, she couldn’t wait to be back home, laughing with all her girls again.

“Like I’d ever let anything keep me from coming home to you.”

“How many more days?” Emily asked.

“Hold on,” Ali said, sitting up and reaching for the little pocket calendar she kept on her at all times. It served more as a countdown than to keep track of her day to day activities. It was far more satisfying to physically cross off the days on this little pad than just watching the calendar on her phone.

“Just a little over 4 months left,” Ali said, flicking through the pages.

“How many days?” Emily asked quietly.

Alison took a moment and counted. And counted again to make sure.

“125,” she said.

“125,” Emily repeated, “Goes quicker that way.”

“It’ll be here before we know it.”

“I can’t wait,” Emily said.

“Hey,” Alison said, waiting for Emily’s attention to get focused back from where it inevitably ran off too.

“Hmm?”

“I love you,” Alison said, “And nothing will change that. I chose you, and I will always choose you. You are my forever.”

“And you are my always,” Emily replied and Alison could hear the smile in her voice.

“125 days,” Alison promised.

“125 days,” Emily repeated.

#emison #emison fanfiction #pretty little liars #alison dilaurentis #emily fields #emison oneshot

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