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dallonm-archive · 3 years

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[image description: a cropped image of a pink sky. on the right hand side is a bunch of darker pink clouds. Just left of the centre is a full moon. In the centre, in a white serif font reads "writing update" /end id]

july writing update

Hi friends! This writing update is me pretending I did Camp Nano and didn't kinda give up a week in! I had a proper goal and everything, but a lot of things got in the way that I'm not gonna talk about here because I already ranted about it in another update I'm drafting rn. Lets just say it's Disability Pride Month and being not neurotypical or able bodied in writing communities and their inherent focus on productivity is Hard.

But I did get some writing done and wanted to do a little Camp wrap up post regardless. And I'm doing it now because I'm cancelling the last week of July for some rest/self care and I do not want to think about writing for that time and if I write a tumblr post about July Nano being over my brain will think it's actually over <3 I will probably do updates like these for most months tho! Depends on how much I write lol! This one is not too long (by my standards) and has some Revelations, Revelations, Life Cycle of Massive Stars, Nocturne for the Holy and a new wip idea 👁️

excerpts under the cut!

general taglist ; ask to be + or - ; i only have one! ; @childhoodlovers @svpphicwrites @abiandwriting @kowlazovdi @avi-why @ryns-ramblings @kitblogsthings @bijouxs @bookphobe @moonhungers @alicewestwater @bookpacking @shaelinwrites @onlyganymede @theelectricfactory @write-like-babs @oceancold @sidhewrites @wolf-oak @oasis-of-you @coffeeandcalligraphy @cecilsstorycorner @howdywrites @keira-is-writing @flip-phones @piyawrites @avakrahn @goose-books @finch-goes-write @ziyin @aphaimaniis @isherwoodj @laughtracksonata

I'm also editing this in to say I only just realised that July is my writeblr birthday month and that is very weird to me! A year and a couple days ago I impulsively turned an old blog into a place to document writing for me and ended up meeting people who now mean the world to me and my writing blossoming in a way I never thought it would. And the funny part is it doesn't feel like it's been a year, ever since I joined it's just felt like life has Always been this way and I cannot fathom that it hasn't. I'm sappy bc it's 4am lol but ultimately the friends I made (you know who you are) and the community I found is what retaught me the value of writing and helped me unlearn toxic ideas and whilst the last year was tough I wish I could tell July 2020 Dallon (who did not realise he was Dallon yet </3) what July 2021 would look like.

revelations, revelations ;

Oh the absolute state of affairs with this book rn. Nothing bad but I don't know when I'm gonna update y'all because sometimes I do not know where to start when talking about this wip lol! Currently on a break with it (but also my thesis work is on late 20th century queer lit/history rn so am ever really free of RR? <3) but had a lot of fun with it at the end of June/start of July. Anyway here's Dorothy finally revealing more of herself to me after a year. Dorothy as a character is like, I truly believe she is capable of killing a man but the story she is in just does not allow that so I am trying to grow her unhinged side a little bit in other ways bc I know she has it in her but I also really cannot deal with the plot repercussions of her actually killing a man! I'm sorry Dotty but this'll have to do!

(cw for groping/a man being creepy as hell, death/funeral mention, drug mention, drowning imagery kinda)

There’s too much to tell Felix. That his sister lives on the fringe of Castro and has attended three funerals since September; that it’s January 11th and she’s already attended one this year. That his sister drives through sunsets and imagines parties: the amber dusk, warm mosaic tiles, platters of Greek salad skewers and shrimp tostadas, and sometimes Jolie joins her and they share a blunt on the hill. That his sister bought an aquamarine body-length dress for six bucks in a thrift store sale bin, so when her and Jolie broke up for the second time, she waltzed into a sunset party, locked arms with a CEO’s son and gave him a fake number and plucked strawberries out of champagne and blended so well nobody noticed when she left. That during the summer of ’83, his sister walked a neighbour’s Golden Retriever on Wednesdays, and on the sixth Wednesday he gave her a wad of tens with one hand and palmed the back of her neck with the other, so she walked his dog to the beach and stole another hundred from his wallet. That his sister bombed an interview for a Nursing school and didn’t get home until night and missed their monthly call, and Jolie heard the phone ring and didn’t take a message, so his sister snuck into the CEO’s son’s villa and floated in the centre of their heated pool like a cloud. A pause, a breath, an Opheliean threat.

life cycle of massive stars ;

Switched to LCOMS this month because I was burnt out with RR and it made such the difference! I really love working on two novels at once because it keeps me consistently creative but also both of these books are so different so its always refreshing to bounce back into one from another. I have a whole update in the drafts rn for this so keeping this part brief but still love this book, still the best thing that has ever happened to me, me and this book will have a glorious summer wedding etc etc. These excerpts are from chapters that summarise the first semester of each character's first year and have to say it. has been Very Fun to get into the mindset of Freshers Melodrama. Here's Junie having a crisis and an unhealthy relationship with her hetero flatmate :( (alcohol cw for both excerpts)

In October you are drinking double espresso and trying to breathe normally in lectures and you are trying to figure out your favourite colour because Fleur asked and you stumbled out an answer (Purple, I think. Violet? Lavender? Indigo?) and it didn’t match hers (I like yellow. I like sunlight). You buy mugs from IKEA to paint you paint cats and fireworks and constellations and moon phases and daisies. You try to scratch paint stains off your desk. You do laundry at 2am. In October you colour code your notes with pastel highlighters. You go to the library at 3am. You paint your nails sunlight and hate it. You finish an essay that’s due in December. You knock on Fleur’s door at 8am so she makes her 9am. You wear off the shoulder tops and you let a girl dab glitter on your collarbones and you are watching Fleur kiss a boy from the neighbouring hall. You bite your sunlight nails. You break the handle off your IKEA constellation mug. You leave your keys in a lecture hall and stand at the reception for forty minutes waiting for them to realise that the keys on the desk have the moon chain you mentioned - or, you are waiting to say it yourself. You are watching the rain trail down your window. In October you get a halo headband tangled in your hair you are sipping a vampire themed cocktail that tastes like acetone you rip your heels off and you go home early and do laundry at 2am and you are waiting for the courage to tell Fleur you don’t like clubbing - or, you are waiting for her to ask where you are. In October you are many things / a good student a dancer a painter an angel a big sister an alarm clock you are nocturnal and a lucid dreamer and confused about your sexuality / and it’s still October but it’s not because it’s November now and you are still Junie but not because you don’t know who Junie is. It’s November, it’s September October November December. It’s 2016 2017 2018 2019. You are fragments and you don’t know if you are a kaleidoscope or shattered glass.

And here's first year Tomas being like I Moved Countries For University And All I Got Was Homesickness And A Crush On My Flatmate And Resurging Autistic Symptoms And This Lousy T Shirt (cw: vomit mention, injection mention, parental death mention)

Kristen is seven months younger and five inches taller than you. He’s the last flatmate you met and the only one you talk to beyond kitchen greetings and passive aggressive texts about dirty dishes. He is too quiet and too loud and not the type of person you befriend. The first night, he lost Ring of Fire and downed the concoction of Echo Falls, Dark Fruits, Jack Daniels and coke, vodka and lemonade alongside a cigarette and said he’d let God figure out the rest. He held your hair back when you threw up amaretto and held onto your knee when you first self-injected testosterone. He taught you Yorkshire dialect and you pretended to understand the Yorkshire dialect. He told you he got diagnosed at four and you told him you didn’t get past the first assessment but sometimes you flick the bathroom light on and it’s fire: the orange on the orange towel is louder, the white on the white tiles are louder, the colours and light and sink and showerhead are prickly and all you can do is blink and breathe until it fizzles out. You reminded him to take his meds and asked if you were weak for wanting to drop out and hop on the first Eurostar to Rotterdam. He reminded you to take off your binder and asked if he was robotic for not grieving his mother. You spent inky nights on the kitchen floor, counting the dead flies in the lights and scooping crumbly coconut ice cream out of a maker you got for half price in TK Maxx. You spent dusk-dusted afternoons at the global street food markets, at the vegan markets. Spent student loans on raspberry lemonade in recycled cups, veggie burgers in beetroot buns, got him hooked on poffertjes and advocaat and could’ve cried when the vendor spoke to you in Dutch. Sometimes you didn’t buy anything. Just liked hovering at stalls ambered with fairy lights, writing down Etsy stores on your notes app; just liked Kristen’s impulse to trek forty minutes into the city for a market he didn’t know existed until five minutes before; just liked how he always invited only you, cancelling your other plans last minute, the feeling of being ambushed; just liked how he stopped to take photos of dogs and the sunset; just liked how he looked haloed under lampposts waiting for Ubers, golden on golden.

This is also nearing creative nonfiction because Sheffield truly is a haven for just. vegan markets and cafes lol! I experimented with veganism there and never struggled to find something and at this point I call myself a fake vegan because it's too easy to be vegan in Sheffield and too difficult to be vegan in my actual hometown. And the global street food markets!!! SO GOOD! I miss pre pandemic days

nocturne for the holy ;

Giving her a little shout out because she does exist actually! I've figured out a really good system for working on two novels at a time, so my plan is maybe to start properly on this after I finish either RR or LCOMS. Idk I got 3 novels to pick from haha oops! I did do some free drafting back in April though and found it recently and I Like It! And I edited it so it counts as Something I Did This Month :) Also have decided that I loathe this working title <3 Okay see you with an update for this novel in like a year, sorry for the absolute zero context for this excerpt hehe

The morning I was due back, I hadn’t yet decided that this would be my last visit. I wandered between rooms like an overstayed guest, like I didn’t know which crockery lived in which cabinet and which bedroom had the best view of the overlapped hills. Dad would wake for his run in an hour, plastered to his twenty-year-old routine. Mum would pretend to be asleep until breakfast. Until then, it was myself and the house, hazed by sleepy sunrise. Downstairs. The peeling paisley wallpaper in the lounge, the lilies in the middle of the kitchen table, the vases of candy floss pink peonies wilting on every windowsill, the desolate double swing-set in the garden. The mist-clogged mornings. I stood outside in my dressing-gown until my fingertips felt numb. Upstairs. The sage coloured bathroom. The bathtub I’d laze in with my clothes on and no water because it was the quietest room in the house. The dusty dance trophies on the top of my wardrobe. Wine-flushed Jeanette in my teenage bedroom. The stale grey mum painted my teenage bedroom after I moved out. Minus their room, I stalked the layout of the house three times before settling back into bed - teenage Nora’s bed. Nora who cared for peonies and pushed her brother on the swing set and flung her ceramic ballerina at the wall and jogged with her father and collected wine bottles and acorns and kisses from girls who were supposed to visit for dance practice. Before I left, I’d have cycled each room another three times. And in every room he was there, hovered in the corner like black mould.

love this update bc it's like i've got my third person, my second person, my first person! collecting all the POVs like chaos emeralds :)

eulogy for our burnings ;

-looks away-

girl help I did it AGAIN!!!! Apparently Camp Nano is just the perfect time for me to get novel ideas. I made this post specifically to talk a bit about this because I have no idea when I'll draft it but it's certainly not soon. This is not me trying to doubt my own skill but I feel like I am not in the place I'd like to be as a writer to tackle this project with the zest it needs, however I am v excited by the prospect of it! Don't know how I feel about the working title bc I'm like "that doesn't sound right but I don't know enough about this wip to dispute it" but the only purpose my working titles serve is to sound pretty lol! But here's the tea:

1991, UK.

2nd person present + past. Very flexible form. I can't decipher how yet but I'm feeling interviews, newspaper articles, receipts, grocery store lists weaved with actual narrative, that kinda vibe.

Best summary is we follow our nameless narrator, a stealth trans man, as he becomes unhealthily obsessed with a man who "hires" him to photograph the buildings he burns

Very,,, isolated? Minimal settings, minimal characters, minimal prose etc. Almost claustrophobic

There's basically only two characters and they are probably the most morally deplorable, indefensible characters I've created which just means most of you are gonna LOVE this /lh I do too I do too

Only comp title I can give is it has the vibes/tone of Boy Parts by Eliza Clark (just with none of the nsfw content lol if you've read the book you know what I'm talking about) (also that book is great for morally deplorable women protagonists but omg look up the content warnings because it caught me off guard! enjoyed it tho gave it 4 stars)

The pinterest board is the best visualisation of the Vibes also follow me on pinterest lol

And that's all I've got today! A bigger Life Cycle of Massive Stars update coming in the next few weeks. Might do a proper intro post for Eulogy For Our Burnings but idk!!! It's a surprise :) Thank you for reading this far!

#also i have LOTS to catch up on so if u tagged me in anything im gonna do a big queue of rb's soon!#promise im not ignoring anybody!#just barely functioning <3 #atlastracking #writing update #revelations revelations #life cycle of massive stars #nocturne for the holy #eulogy for our burnings

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rein-ette · 3 years

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hahaha sorry I had to follow up because this is something that interests me so much. Do you distinguish their views on Arthur from his other siblings? For example, are there countries that feel more closely related to Wales and Scotland than to England? Also, where does Tonga fit into these categories (do they have their own since they were never formally colonized and instead signed a Treaty of Friendship?)? And what about the colonies that weren't populated by British citizens like Guyana, do they fall into the categories of the countries that populated them, in this case India?

Tough questions but fascinating ones! I had to do some sleuthing on Wikipedia to answer these with reference to the specific countries you mentioned, but hopefully this is what you’re looking for!

Do you distinguish their views on Arthur from his other siblings? For example, are there countries that feel more closely related to Wales and Scotland than to England?

I’m not sure there are countries that identify more with Scot and Wales than England speaking, since Welsh and Scottish immigration within the Empire was mostly in confined to certain enclaves of larger countries. Examples are the Maritimes of Canada (Nova Scotia, Labrador), various parts of the US, NZ and Australia (formerly New South Wales). But certainly there’s deep feelings of kinship there. Scot’s brusque personality and temper might have gotten in the way a bit of bonding at first, but he’s a softie on the inside and Wales is just, like, soft in general :,) Outside of the Anglosphere, however, I don’t think Scot and Wales developed much of a bond with the colonies. This is somewhat the result of their personalities -- Arthur is a very outward looking character, and his lonely and violent childhood and ongoing problems with Europe means he feels most comfortable on the seas and away, whereas I think Scot and Wales prefer to be with their land and their people, respectively. However, it’s probably also the result of deliberate planning on Arthur’s part: centralization of power is absolutely crucial to the survival of an Empire, as Arthur surely understood, so he would want colonies to feel loyalty only to him.

At the same time though, empires are hard work to maintain, so Scot and Wales probably still travelled frequently gathering intelligence, solving problems, signing agreements, and pruning officials abroad as necessary. That is to say, they held a position of power in the English household, probably second only to Arthur (and maybe Matthew later on, but that’s another thing). So they certainly would have interacted with much of the British empire. Still, I don’t think there was doubt in any colonies’ mind who really had the final say in the empire. Interestingly, there’s a not-insignificant population of Scots in Argentina, Chile, Brazil, parts of Britain’s “Informal Empire”, which makes me think Arthur might have often sent Scot there to manage business/trade while also keeping him away from delicate conflicts/issues he didn’t trust Scot with/just so they didn’t have to see each other :P

Also, where does Tonga fit into these categories (do they have their own since they were never formally colonized and instead signed a Treaty of Friendship?)?

I admit to not knowing much about Tongan history, though I did list it as a protectorate in Group 3 along with countries like Iraq, Libya, Afghanistan. In terms of “colonial” (if it can be called that) relations, these countries had minimal contact with England himself and basically just minded their own business. Tonga specifically is probably one of those with no particular strong feelings at all towards England -- they’re passing acquaintances at best. Countries like Afghanistan, however, probably have some opinions about British meddling and posturing (considering the contention there during the Great Game, a period of intense rivalry between the British Empire and Russia), and countries like Libya definitely have some opinions about European imperialism as a whole.

And what about the colonies that weren't populated by British citizens like Guyana, do they fall into the categories of the countries that populated them, in this case India?

Guyana I put under the “Taken In as Young Child” list because they were originally a Dutch colony that was formally ceded to Britain in 1814, but after your question I went back and looked into it a bit more. It is a bit of a complex case, because Guyana also retains significant indigenous and black populations as well. I would probably say Guyana was still began as the representation of first Dutch plantation colonies, but did not age very quickly and so was probably only a few years old when it came under British rule. As British Guiana, he was probably an entity similar in nature to the HRE; a half-state that encompassed many rival groups with their own semi-nation like representatives such as the newly freed slave population, the Indian migrants, and the remaining indigenous groups.

In the beginning of the new anime they actually mentioned off-hand that nations were “mysterious beings who might exist for a day, a week, or hundreds of years and then disappear” (i’m paraphrasing), which I think is a interesting concept and supports the idea of semi-immortal “nation” representatives. As for Guyana’s relationships, he probably has nothing nice to say about Arthur and certainly not the US, who has exerted more influence on Latin American than London has in the last century (and hardly any of it good influence). That sets Guyana apart from and probably even creates some resentment against the “heirs” or “princes” of the British Empire (the Anglosphere + some others), who Arthur truly loved as his own. But being taken in at a young age also makes Guyana different from Tonga or the others in Group 3--hating the only family you’ve ever known for not loving you is not the same as hating someone you met as an adult for telling you what to do.

TLDR: It really depends on the colony. Incidentally, this is why I found the categories so helpful in the first place: not because they generalize all the countries in each group but because they help me identify how each one didn’t fit the pattern in some ways, how each nation’s colonial experience was unique.

#hws england #aph scotland #aph wales #oc: tonga #oc: guyana #kinda they're not really fully fleshed out characters #fun times with the Commonwealth #that's what i'm calling this now #another long boi #my hcs #ask #needcake

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a-bts-world · 3 years

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Get to know me

I was tagged by @yutahoes, and I am tagging: @skrtbabe @fairyjunn @koreanmadeingreece, @hyunjaeo, @bluecrane01 and anyone else who wants to do this!

What is your birthday?

15 september, 2000

What is your favorite color?

Green! one that resembles nature

What's your lucky number?

4, whenever I have a gymnastics meet I always want to be the fourth gymnast to go and do my routine.

do you have any pets?

we have 2 cats at home, they are so cute. I love them!

how tall are you?

1.60m

how many pairs of shoes do you own?

I don't really know, about 6 or so, but I wear like one pair and sometimes my flipflops.

favorite song?

right now it's 0x1 = lovesong (I know I love you) (TXT). Of all time, I think it is Little mix's little me or strip. But I also love from home (NCT U), moonchild (RM), Magic shop (BTS) and where do broken hearts go (1D). also the Riot, with Ten and Xiaojun is like the perfect combination of EDM and Kpop. I adore that song so much!

favorite movie?

another difficult question, I think the Narnia series are my favorites. especially the second one, prince Caspian. But also, the dutch movie 'Letter for the King' is amazing and just reminds me of my childhood so much!

what would be your ideal partner?

someone who likes me, but also it turns out I have a thing for tall people. like anyone taller than 1.80cm, you are good to go!

do you want children?

yes! for sure, I would like to atleast adopt one child, but also have a child of my own. and I also would like to be a foster parent. So yes, children are a must.

have you gotten in trouble with the law?

nope

what color socks are you wearing?

grey

bath or shower?

showers

favorite type of music?

Eurovision songs, EDM and Kpop. The riot, with Ten and Xiaojun is an example of a perfect combination of EDM and Kpop, like I said before. I love it!

how many pillows do you sleep with?

two

which position do you sleep in?

on my stomach, with one leg up to the side.

what you don't like when you're sleeping?

well if I am asleep, then I won't really wake up by anything, so do whatever you want when I am asleep. However, before I am asleep everything needs to be quiet and dark.

what do you have for breakfast?

yoghurt with cruesli.

have you ever tried archery?

like one time, it is not my thing.

favorite fruit?

I don't eat fruit that much, but the only fruit that I can eat everytime is a cantaloupe melon. I adore those.

favorite swear word?

I try to use as little swear words as possible, but when I slip up. I mostly us f*ck

do you have any scars?

ofcourse, so many. Most notably one on my nose, which I got from trying a double front flip and hitting my knees to my nose.

are you a good liar?

I don't know

what's your personality type?

INFP-T, but it has been a while since I did the test

what's your favorite type of girl?

someone who knows what they want and are happy by themselves. I don't really know how to describe this, but like anyone enjoying their freetime no matter what they are doing are amazing.

innie or outie?

left or right handed?

favorite food?

wow that is a great question, I think I like Lasagna the most, but I mean steak is also great aswell.

are you clean or messy?

both, I am a messy person, but I can't function whenever my room is messy, so I always clean up every two to three days.

favorite foreign food?

anything Italian is good!

how long does it take for you to get ready?

When I am in a hurry, I can do it in like 20 minutes, If I have the time, it could take an hour or so.

most used phrase?

don't really know the answer to this one. maybe something along the lines of; I can't!

are you a good singer?

do you sing yourself?

only when I am sure I am alone and not bothering anyone.

biggest fear?

spiders, not being loved.

do you like long or short hair?

it depends on my mood, one moment I want to chop it al off, the next I want it to grow even longer.

are you into gossips?

who isn't?

extrovert or introvert?

ambivert, I think. I don't know.

favorite school subject?

history! especially Greek and Roman history.

what makes you nervous?

everything, like what doesn't?

who was your first real crush?

someone in my class when I was like 11, we alsways said to each other that we were rivals, but I feel like we just liked eachother.

how many piercings do you have?

I have my earspierced, but I never wear any earrings. also almost everyone has their ears pierced in the Netherlands, so I don't really see them as piercings. We even started calling them different, than all other piercings. So I believe all Dutch people don't really see them as piercings anymore.

how fast can you run?

like how do I answer this, I don't know. I haven't run for a while. except for a warming up for gymnastics, but I always half assed those.

what color is your hair?

like a redish brown, I don't know. a weird color, because I died my hair 6 months ago or so and it's still not completely gone.

what color are your eyes?

grey, blue, green? who can tell?

what makes you angry?

when I get costumers 5 minutes before closing time, at the coffee shop I work at. Like, I tell them we are closing in five minutes and they still decide to have a drink on the terrace. Like no, madame, I want to clean everything, not serve your drinks!

do you like your own name?

I like it, however it is not really a good name to use for foreigners, because of the famous dutch 'ng' sound, that is difficult to pronounce for non-native speakers.

do you want a boy or a girl as a child?

doesn't matter

what are your weaknesses?

talking so much, that I forgot to ask the other person questions back. like if you ask me one thing, I will continue to talk about it for like a hour or so and then forget to ask you a question back. I also hate silence, so whenever there is a silence for a bit longer then usual I also start to talk.

what are your strengths?

I don't really give up that easily and because of gymnastic I like to believe I can endure a lot of pain.

what is the color of your bedspread?

green

color of your room?

green

#tag games!#lovely moots 💕#get to know me

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cynic-spirit · 3 years

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The Poem Series (5) A Red, Red Rose– John Wick

John steps out of his car, and with the bouquet in his hand strides to the door of Diana’s house. The night was indeed beautiful. Breeze strolled over and added to his decorum. John raised his hand and rings the doorbell. The assassin hears the clicks of the heels, and the subtle turning of the door knob. His period of lonely respite has come to an end. The door opens to reveal Diana. The moon’s delicate light turned the world a-flame when John saw her. Her arched eyebrows inclined slightly when she saw him. Her languid eyelashes of velvet black blinked slowly as if to urge me to speak something.

“Hi”

“Hi John”

“These are for you”

John hands her the bouquet. She received them with an expression John had never seen in his line of work. What was it? Gratitude, affection, surprise, or contemplation. She smiled.

“Thank you”

There it was, The saccharine voice again, that sent an electric jolt in John.

“I will just keep them in a vase and we can leave”

“Yes, sure”

It was when she was putting the flowers in the vase that John actually saw the outfit. In the sea of the loud and ostentatious froth of clothes that John had seen on women, Diana was the sartorial antidote in the form of class. An elegant outfit with sleek appearance. Diana commanded respect just by her appearance.

Diana, on the other hand was equally breathless. She had not expected to see John with a bouquet of flowers. She could not resist going back to her past. When was the last time Samuel brought her flowers, In two years, never. She realized what was she missing in life. She wanted respect and partnership from a man, Samuel was anything but, and now she is willing to move on from him to the mysterious John Wick. After putting the flowers in a crystal, long stemmed vase, Diana turns.

“Lets go, John”

The walk to the car was short. She sat as John opened the door for her. She was sure he could see the pink on her cheeks. This would be a long night.

John takes Diana to a restaurant. It is not too fancy but it is not too casual either. The place is dimly lit. There are a few people and couples scattered here and there. The place had a stage with a band playing some smooth jazz. Diana was enchanted by the place, but she was brought out of her reverie when she felt John’s hand on her back.

“This way”

Diana walked with John to their table. It was in the back of the restaurant where a gigantic window showed a wonderful view of the lake outside. The table had a beautiful crystal vase with a scarlet rose adorning it. He pulls the chair for her. She whispered a small ‘thank you’ furiously blushing. The waiter left two menu and left them alone at the table. There was something in the air now- what was it? Mystery, intrigue, anticipation, nervousness, attraction, love? Diana looks up to John and finds him staring at her. Should she talk first or wait for him to speak?

John could not believe that the woman who has consumed his thoughts for the past 24 hrs is sitting in front of him. There are so many thinks he wishes to speak to her. He couldn’t sleep, He couldn’t eat, He couldn’t do anything but think about her. At night he dreamt of her, all day he waited to see her, and when he is seeing her, his heart turns over and he thinks he will faint with desire. He could look at her all evening, but he will talk. He want to know his beloved even if he cannot reveal much about himself to her.

“Do you like the place?”

“Yes , its beautiful. Do you come here often?”

“I do”

“Alone? Or with someone?”

“You are the first one whom I brought here.”

“I find it hard to believe”

“Why?”

“Because, look at you. You must have women swarming around you”

“Those women, they don’t, … they never did what you have done to me in a few hours Diana”

“What have I done to you?”

“Humanized me”

Diana gasps a little. He feels humanized, by me? How tormented he must be? It is no surprise that he doesn’t talk, doesn’t trust. Diana saw a little of her own self in him. Maybe they can heal each other together.

“I am not such a human myself John.”

“Now, I find it hard to believe”

“Tell me something about yourself John. “

“Ask me”

“will you answer?”

“Yes”

“What do you like John?”

“You”

“are you trying to be cheesy?”

“I am trying to impress you.”

“By being cheesy?”

“By being truthful”

“Why do you want to impress me?”

“So I can go ahead”

“go ahead where?”

“to the next step”

“which is…?”

“confessing my true feelings for you”

Diana is startled. She has never met a man so mysterious yet so honest. She was falling for him herself. After Samuel, she had decided not to involve herself with any man for a long time until John came and hit her like a freight train. There was a significant age difference between them, She was 25, he was nearly 42, but was it really significant enough to become a problem? No, because life is not governed by will, rules, or intention. Life is a question of nerves, and fibres, and slowly built-up cells in which thought hides itself and passion has its dreams. You may fancy yourself safe and think yourself strong. But a chance tone of color in a room or a morning sky, a particular perfume that you had once loved and that brings subtle memories with it, a line from a forgotten poem that you had come across again, a cadence from a piece of music that you had ceased to play — it is on things like these that our lives depend. Diana wanted her life to depend on John. She took a leap of faith.

“What are your true feelings for me John?”

“If I tell you, you might find it too soon”

“If you won’t tell me, I might think you hate me”

John was shocked. How could she think so low of herself. How could she think that he can dare to hate her when all he wants is to worship the ground she walks on. John looks at her, When he looked into her eyes, he learned the most important part of the language that all the world spoke — the language that everyone on Earth was capable of understanding in their heart. It was love. Something older than humanity, more ancient than the desert. What John felt at that moment was that he was in the presence of the only woman in his life, and that, with no need for words, she recognized the same thing. Because when you know the language, it’s easy to understand that someone in the world awaits you, whether it’s in the middle of the desert or in some great city. And when two such people encounter each other, the past and the future become unimportant. There is only that moment, and the incredible certainty that everything under the sun has been written by one hand only. It is the hand that evokes love, and creates a twin soul for every person in the world. Without such love, one’s dreams would have no meaning.

“Diana, I have for the first time found what I can truly love — I have found you. You are my sympathy — my better self — my good angel; I am bound to you with a strong attachment. I think you are good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my center and spring of life, wraps my existence about you — and, kindling in pure, powerful flame. I want to fuse your soul with me in one”

“John!”

“Yes Diana. Those are my feelings for you”

“They are strong, intense”

“You find it too soon, dont you?”

“I wish I did ,but you have consumed my thoughts too John. I don’t know if I love you, but I like you, I like you more than just being a friend, I find you attractive and alluring, so much that I do not understand them myself and I am willing to delve into this strange journey with you without a second thought to find out.”

At that honest confession from her, John feels relieved. His beloved has accepted him. For the remaining of his life he would spend it making her feel loved and cherished. He would protect her, be with her, and love her.

“Does that mean I get a second date?” (John smiles and asks a little playfully. Things have been intense between them since they met.

“It means you get as many dates as you would like John” (Diana smiles and winks to him. The waiter comes with their order and her attention now gets to the red rose on the vase at their table. It was a small turn of her eye, but the observant assassin did not miss it)

“Do you like flowers, Diana?”

“Yes, I do John. A lot. I always wished to have a garden for myself, but my job and my place cannot accommodate that desire.”

“It’s a beautiful rose, Schatje”

“What does it mean?”

“What does what mean?

“the word that you used”

“It means little treasure. Its Dutch”

“What other languages do you speak John?”

(John leans in on the table, .takes her hand and kisses on her knuckles lightly.) “Don’t you wanna find out ?”

Diana chuckles. She touches the petals of the rose lightly. “You will have to do better than steal my words John Wick”

“I am up for a challenge” John Smirks.

“Is that so?” Diana challenges.

(John takes the rose from the vase, and touches Diana’s hands with its petals. To her astonishment, he speaks, oh lord! he speaks, in that baritone voice of his, something that she never expected him to say)

“O my Lve is like a red, red rose

That’s newly sprung in June;

O my Luve is like the melody

That’s sweetly played in tune..”

Dammit John, she thought, of all the things she imagined John would say or do, narrating Robert Burns was not one of them. If Icarus was here, he wouldn’t need to fly near the sun to melt his wings. John’s voice was enough. His fiery presence was enough.

“I thought you said you don’t understand poetry John”

“I don’t understand poetry Diana, But I do remember them”

Diana found it difficult to breathe after that. She remembered something that she had read a long time ago and it seemed it was true. John is more herself than she was. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. Diana recollected those lines.

#john wick #john wick fanfic #john wick x ofc #john wick x original character #john wick x original female character #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick x oc #john wick fanfiction #keanu reeves #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #the continental #continental #baba yaga #the boogeyman #boogeyman

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ducklooney · 3 years

Note

Which version of The Triplets (Huey Dewey and Louie) you like most?

Well it depends. For me, the best are the classic version of Donald's nephews (the usual one), but who sound like boys their age, not like their uncle or sound like adults. Mostly because I grew up with those versions. First of all, the version of HDL Duck in the original Ducktales and in European comics, such as Italian and Dutch.

I know a lot of people don’t like that version because they supposedly think there’s no difference between them, and those people don’t absolutely know that this is their gag. I don't know if you know that even today there are people who are three-member siblings who look the same. Not seriously, there really are such people and it’s no problem for that characters in cartoons and comics to be like reality.

Certainly, they went from the big naughty boys who often caused their Uncle Donald's problems in classic shorts and early comics, to becoming disciplined over time and becoming good and intelligent boys and members of the Junior Woodchucks in Barks's and later comics. They are also moral verticals in Scrooge's adventures, and they also help their uncle in trouble. Also, they love their uncle Donald very much, which I am especially glad about. However, for me, HDL is good both when they are naughty boys (boys by nature) and when they are very intelligent. I don't like it when these boys are completely evil or when they are completely smart like big nerds. Sometimes in comics, these boys act like jerks, which I don't like, but since they have similar characteristics as their uncle, then they're fine, but sometimes they get the punishment they deserve, I mean moral punishment. And I prefer when they wear different colors of clothes than when they wear black T-shirts. Also, I love when they’re superheroes (little Paperiniks, or partly when they’re Q-Galaxy (though the comics about them are partly bad)) so sometimes Duck Avenger and Super Daisy help in trouble. I have to say that in the original Ducktales and partly in European comics, despite the fact that HDL look the same except in clothes, they still have different features and different types of interest.

Of course, I also love the Quack Pack version of Donald’s nephews as teenagers and it may be the only permanent version where these boys were older than usual. I don't know why many people hate that version, but they are basically classic nephews, only with more differences and they are older boys. Huey as in comics and in OG Ducktales is the leader of the triplet, with the fact that in Quack Pack he loves girls, Dewey is the brain of that trio, but sometimes makes jokes with brothers and others, and Louie is a sports triplet, who likes exciting things is also naive, but loves comics and defends animals from poachers. I know, there were some issues in the Quack Pack, but I think if we avoided the 90s model, the HDL from that series would be customizable in other cartoons and comics as well, you just need to use them the right way. Even though the older boys sometimes make fun of Donald, they also help him when he is in trouble. Even though they are different, they are almost always together. It is unfortunate that only in two comics after that series, that version appeared and nowhere else, but it may be used in other ways in the future.

As for the version of Donald’s nephews in the Ducktales reboot, so I don’t mind that they changed their traits and what that difference is seen, as well as their tricks in that series, but I’m disappointed that their triplets characterization development didn’t go down well and I’m sorry is for Huey not getting his good focus, yet he had the traits of a nephew from comics and OG Ducktales. Also, even though Donald defended them all the time, he doesn't feel like they are for him, they go to Scrooge or Della more than to Donald, which is sad for me. So I’m sorry, but I’m not a fan of the 2017 version of Donald’s nephews in Ducktales. But I certainly respect other fans who love DT17 nephews and I’m glad about that. What the next version of Donald’s nephews will be, I’m not sure, but I don’t believe they will be in the DT17 version because of the problems they have. But there will certainly be other versions of HDL that we will see in completely different ways, with the proviso that they will still be triplets, not OCs. But we'll see how time will tell.

I mostly like the classic version of Donald’s nephews (OG Ducktales and European comics) and the Quack Pack version of triplets. I apologize if I offended you in any way with my comments, I apologize, I just said my opinion and my impressions of Donald's nephews. I hope you understand me. If you don't agree with me, it's okay, I respect your opinion. I hope you are satisfied with my answers and I am glad you asked me. If you have more questions, feel free to ask me. Also, have a nice day.

P.S. I would like crossovers to take place where there would be joint encounters between different versions of Donald's nephews. I wonder what the rivalries and harmony would be between those versions.

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the-busy-ghost · 4 years

Note

If you don't mind answering, what are some things that you really, really wish you'd see more of in depictions of medieval Scotland/Early Modern Scotland?

I absolutely don’t mind answering, thank you for asking!

I’m told there are some better quality novels than there are tv shows and films, so there are some aspects that have been done in good novels (though I’m not so familiar with them). There are so many things though that could be done on screen:

- Chiefly I spend a lot of my time wishing that there was more attention paid to the actual geographical make-up of Scotland and its regional variety, e.t.c beyond just splitting everything into Highland/Lowland, or just portraying everyone as being part of a Clan in the Highland sense, or just sticking everyone in Edinburgh as if that was the only place where anything happened. Orkney was very different to Galloway, and the Borders were very different to the Western Isles, and Ross was different to Aberdeenshire.

Now if this was true for the sixteenth century, it is even MORE true for the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth centuries. Between the early Middle Ages and the end of the thirteenth century, Scotland was settled by a lot of different cultures- so in the twelfth century for example, much of the country (the traditional heartland of ‘Scotia’ north of the Forth) may have spoken Gaelic but Lothian had been settled by speakers of Old English some centuries ago and their language became Scots in time, and spread north of the Forth into Fife, Angus, Aberdeenshire and elsewhere so that by the sixteenth century it was much more widely spoken and the language of government. The south-west, especially the area around the Clyde and Glasgow was a British kingdom for a long time, speaking a language not dissimilar to Old Welsh- this kingdom had (sort of) disappeared by the mid-twelfth century but the language took a while to completely disappear. Up in Orkney, Shetland, and Caithness, rather like in Iceland and the Faroes, Norse settlers had taken over and Norse culture has still left traces there today. From the fourteenth century, Scots began to take over in the Northern Isles but there was still a very clear Norse background in the sixteenth century. Meanwhile in the Western Isles, the Norse newcomers did not manage to erase Gaelic so completely as they did in the Northern Isles, but they did leave their mark on the Hebrides, to the extent that the inhabitants in the Western Isles in the in the twelfth century were descendants of both cultures- they are sometimes called Gall-Ghàidheil in Gaelic, meaning ‘foreigner Gael’. Then over the course of the twelfth century more new immigrants moved in. The ranks of the nobility were swelled by Norman, Breton, and other French settlers- unlike England, there was no ‘Norman Conquest’, and the process was more gradual, but although the French language never had the same power in Scotland as it did in thirteenth century England, these settlers left their mark on the feudal system and other aspects of Scottish society, and in turn they too were affected by the cultures they encountered in Scotland. Other smaller pockets of immigration existed- immigrants from Flanders and the Netherlands, for example, were instrumental to developing Scottish towns and improving agriculture. In the east coast burghs of Fife and Lothian you can still see some architectural elements that may have been the result of trade with the Dutch- crow-stepped gables and red pantiles for example.

Although most of these cultures have altered and changed by the sixteenth century, the fact remains that the cultural backdrop to fourteenth or fifteenth century Scotland was a real mix- Gaelic, English, French, Norse, Flemish, British- and, perhaps, whatever it was that the elusive Picts left behind beyond their wonderful stone monuments. I have perhaps oversimplified things here but the point is that mediaeval and early modern Scotland was not a cultural monolith- something which both Scottish and foreign film-makers would do well to remember.

There are also changes to these regions across the years- Orkney going from being a Norwegian/Danish territory to becoming part of the Scottish kingdom, or the borders which had some of the best farmland and richest abbeys in the country in the thirteenth century becoming a very militarised and rather lawless zone after the Wars of Independence. I think it would be really interesting to see that portrayed on screen.

- Ok so that was the fundamental thing, apologies for the rant. But to go with that, more understanding of the landscape and architecture. In all fairness most tv shows and films involving Scotland, no matter how bad they are, at least have some lovely panning shots of the Highlands but there’s more to the country than Glencoe- you could really work with views like the sun on the sea from the Carrick coast or the beautiful if ruinous religious architecture- like the abbeys of Melrose or Arbroath or somewhere like Elgin Cathedral or Rosslyn Chapel or Inchmahome Priory.

- Costuming! Again this fits into the regional thing a bit, but it’s also more general. It’s a quibble I have with almost any medieval media but especially when it comes to Scotland people get really lazy with the costuming and just slap some shortbread tin stuff together rather than putting any thought into it.

- More traditional music! A surprising number of ballads and songs that are still popular among folk singers today are thought to have their roots in early modern if not mediaeval Scotland. And again the musical heritage of Scotland is varied depending on the culture it comes from.

- More properly developed female characters. Even though half the historical films made about Scotland are about Mary Queen of Scots, there are almost no good depictions of historical Scotswomen- and that’s NOT because there aren’t any interesting women in Scottish history before the modern period! There are lots of fascinating women’s stories from mediaeval and early modern Scotland, and although we are often frustrated by a lack of sources, we know they were there. More importantly, even if every woman was not a Certified Bad-Ass, as a whole women in Scottish history are not invisible and we can often see them in the records, whether operating in domestic, business, religious, or political contexts. Oddly, in their quest to show how Uniquely Misogynistic and Evil the Scottish nobility were to Mary Queen of Scots or Margaret Tudor or whoever, film-makers often end up ignoring women’s stories and therefore perpetuating the sexist view of history they claim to hate. (Though, yes mediaeval and early modern Scotland WAS misogynistic- but show me a country that wasn’t. Also it was misogynistic in a slightly different way to some other countries). I could list off dozens of interesting Scotswomen who lived before 1603- even though we sometimes can’t tell that much about their inner lives from the surviving sources, it’s obvious they were of some importance. And again it fits back into the cultural variety thing, because that was not limited to Lowland, Scots-speaking noblewomen.

- More art and literature and architecture and education and music and EVERYTHING. Scotland lost a LOT during the Reformation and due to Anglo-Scottish warfare (that’s what happens when the main centre of your kingdom is near to a border). But we know that, though it was sometimes an out of the way place, Scotland could be just as heavily tied into European cultural trends as any other northern country. And there are some beautiful surviving cultural artefacts that hint at a more vibrant past- both produced in Scotland (in the Gaelic and Scots-speaking environments) and imported from abroad.

- Equally on that note, more focus on its connections to countries other than England. Scotland had three universities by 1500, and yet many Scottish students still went to study abroad, especially in France, but also in England, the Low Countries, Italy, and elsewhere. An Italian humanist taught at the Abbey of Kinloss away up in Moray in the sixteenth century, and Scottish thinkers were in touch with other great minds of the day. Scots also fought abroad (see mercenaries in Sweden, or James IV’s support given to his uncle the king of Denmark, or the Garde Écossaise), and traded heavily across the North Sea (there were multiple Scots merchant colonies on the continent, not least at Veere). Scotland’s relations with Norway, Denmark, the Low Countries, the Papacy, Ireland (both as part of the kingdom of England and with individual Irish families), and other countries could be almost as important as its relationships with France and England. The eternal triangle of Scotland, England, and France, was not actually always the story- there were occasions when England and France played very little role in Scotland’s foreign affairs, let alone its domestic history.

- In particular an acknowledgement of the high quality of Scots poetry in the late fifteenth and early sixteenth centuries wouldn’t go amiss.

- This is one which applies to all mediaeval media- but a more varied and interesting depiction of mediaeval religion would be good. In Scotland, this was also linked to the way people saw their own history- any sixteenth century Scot would have known some of the native saints, and anyone half-educated might have heard the names of David I and St Margaret and Columba, and known where the great abbeys in the kingdom came from.

- Actually a basic knowledge of Scottish history and legends beyond a few famous names. For example family was important in noble society- just because the stereotypical The Clans Are Gathering model is massively inaccurate, doesn’t mean that noble families in Scotland didn’t care about ancestry and kinship. But it would be great if tv shows and movies could actually think about how to portray that- and it really shows how little some of these scriptwriters know about their characters when they’re supposedly obsessed with the honour of the clan but the only piece of their country’s history they know is the name William Wallace. If you’re portraying the Douglases- even the earls of Angus who weren’t directly descended from him- the legacy of Sir James Douglas would have been a source of some pride. For actual ‘clans’, you could be dealing with some of the clans in the west of Scotland who, like some families in Ireland, claimed descent from Niall of the Nine Hostages. Some family histories got warped along the way- the Stewarts, for example, seem to have forgotten that they were descended from a Breton named Flaald by the fifteenth century and instead latched onto a story involving a character named Fleance (the one who later appears in Macbeth). As for legends- you could have a lot of fun with the different kinds of fairy belief that existed in Scotland, from the Borders (where it inspired ballads like Tam Lin) to the Highlands, or you could bring up legendary figures that are shared with other countries like King Arthur or Fionn Mac Cumhaill or Robin Hood or Hector of Troy. Sometimes the legends even cross over into real life- Thomas the Rhymer, hero of ballads and fairytales, seems to have been based on a real person who lived in the reign of Alexander III; while stories about William Wallace and Robert Bruce often became folk tales in the tradition of other greenwood outlaws like Robin Hood.

I think it’s pretty evident that my main issues with depictions of mediaeval and early modern Scotland on tv and film are largely because it’s so utterly unlike anything I see in the historical record. I’d love to list specific details and characters I’d like to see portrayed on screen, but before we even get to that point, the whole Generic Portrait of Scotland needs to change, because it doesn’t currently feel very realistic or interesting. All I really want is for the same level of research to be done with regard to Scotland as is done for England or France or any other country- England is often portrayed inaccurately, but there’s still at least 200% more effort put in than for Scotland.

On that note though, James I’s career (or at least the early fifteenth century as a whole) has been ripe for a television adaptation for years. Also I’m personally fascinated by ordinary rural life, patterns of agriculture and landholding, e.t.c. so even just an ordinary story set in an early sixteenth century fermtoun would be cool. But I don’t really think these stories would make any sense to people if Scotland was just portrayed the way it usually is - a generic country with no culture beyond a few scraps of tartan and alcohol and Anglophobia.

Thank you for the opportunity to rant, and apologies for the screed! I couldn’t express my enthusiasm very concisely I’m afraid. I genuinely don’t mind if there’s some inaccuracies to portrayals of Scotland, but now all portrayals are exactly the same and almost wholly inaccurate so it gets frustrating.

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darthyentruoc · 4 years

Text

Damn O'driscoll's

Abigail Roberts x Reader

I suck at using punctuation so please forgive me if parts make no sense.

Also use whatever name and pronoun that makes you comfortable

..................................................................................

You and your brother arthur followed dutch into the shady belle plantation house as he rambled on about certain leads he had found out from Mayor Lemieneux's party 'so whats the plan now dutch?' You asked as you followed him onto the balcony overlooking the camp 'i dont know, me and hosea have been toying over the big city bank but we cant hit that yet the only other thing was the trolley station. ill go down there tomorrow see whats what' he explained as he took a long drag out of his cigar.

'Good take young lenny with ya' arthur added which made Dutch raise his brow in confusion 'not micah?',' well that depends on whether you want a massacre or a payday' your brother finished you gave him a agreeing nod as you knew all too well how much of a hothead micah could be.

You leaned out over the balcony taking in the warm breeze and the swamp air when you saw something from a distance approaching the house 'what the hell is that?' You asked your eyes scanning the mysterious figure that was approaching, 'AHHHH....ITS KIERAN' mary-beth screamed 'LOOK THE TREELINE....EVERYONE GET BEHIND COVER' dutch screamed as he and arthur darted behind the balconies pillars and began firing at the O'driscoll's that were attacking.

Your heart raced inbetween shooting the enemy and trying to find your son and girlfriend Abigail you carefully scanned the ground below you catching sight of both of them hiding behind a large crate. 'Arthur, y/n get down there now!' Dutch yelled as he vaulted the balcony, you instantly following and landing in the mud below you, firing wildly as you took cover on the opposite side of him.

'JACK NOO' you turned to see your son jack in a panic running out into the open within a split second and without thinking you darted over to him whisking him into your arms and diving back next to abigail who at this point was frantic 'sorry pa/mama' jack cried in fear 'its ok son, youre alright' you answered as you continued fire.

'Everyone back to the house' arthur screamed as he busted through the front door. You dragged both of your loved ones quickly into the house and herded them into hoseas room which seemed to be the safest 'stay here all of you, dont open the door unless you know its one of us' you finished slamming shut the door behind you.

After shooting the O'Driscoll's for a while through the windows of the building you and Charles decided to make a break for the front of the house again and rushed out of the side entrance, as the door opened Charles reacted instantly pinning down an attacker and impaling him with his hatchet. 'Come on aint too many more left' you shouted breathlessly as you sprinted into cover and fired perfectly killing the rest of the fleeing o'Driscolls.

'We did it...were alive' Dutch said as he approached you 'yea all but poor kieran','colm can really hate dutch' arthur spat as he stared down at kierans lifeless body, 'so can i arthur so can i....now lets get this mess cleaned up'.

You ignored his words as you raced back into the house and pounded on the door 'open up its me'.

Abigail practically tore the door off of its hinges instantly falling into your arms tears staining her cheeks 'its ok....are you alright' you whispered as you held her for a few more seconds 'yea were ok.....but the boy, gave me a goddamn heart attack running off like that' she explained as she pulled jack into the hug 'why did you do that son?' You asked as you crouched down to his level 'i was scared pa/mama','yea i know... but you cant do that ok especially not while people are shooting you couldve gotten hurt, then what would we have done huh....i aint mad at you son, you just gave your mother a fright is all' you gently patted his shoulder reassuringly.

'What about you did you get shot?' Abigail said as her eyes searched you for any stray blood marks that werent meant to be there, 'ill survive' you smirked as she dusted you down of all the dirt and swamp bugs 'well good i need you y/n Morgan, dont you go leaving me just yet','wouldnt dream of it Miss Roberts' you smiled as you returned back outside to help rid the place of corpses.

#rdr2 #abigail marston x reader #abigail roberts imagine #abigail roberts x reader #abigail roberts #abigail marston #rdr2 fandom #red dead fandom #red dead redemption 2

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ruthoakenshield · 4 years

Text

The Lady in the Black Leather (Ch 20)

catch up here: [chapter 19]

Richard X reader , Aiden X Scarlett X Reader

Morning came all too soon for you. Aiden & Scarlett woke you up knocking on your door at 8am. The officer from last night looks up at them then over to you. You grin and nod and he motions for them to enter.

Scarlett comes in and plops on the bed and hands you a hot cup of coffee. You thank her and sip on it. The officer stands and tells you that he will go out in the hallway and let you have some time with your friends and to call for him if you need anything.

You thank him and he heads out to the hall.

Aiden wandered in and plopped down on the floor and petted Phantom. “So, how’s it going with Rich?” he asks. “Good.” You reply with a smug grin.

“You two getting pretty close? He looked so worried about you yesterday after you had been shot. It really scared him, Harley. I think more than he wanted to let on.” he tells you.

You nod. “Yeah, we have talked a lot and are getting close. I have never been treated the way he treats me. All my prior boyfriends were jerks compared to him. They never treated me with kindness and only manhandled me roughly.” You tell him. Scarlett rolls her eyes and says, “Now that’s and understatement if I ever heard one!”

You glare at her and continue, “Richard makes me feel safe and loved. It’s still hard for me to get used to. It helps though that he always has a hand resting gently on me. Either on my back or around my waist or on my arm, or just holding hands.” You reply.

Scarlett and Aiden grin. “Yeah, we noticed he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you.” They both giggle. “He can be quite possessive, but it’s always in a good way, don’t worry.” Aiden tells you.

“Chivalry certainly isn’t dead with him!” Scarlett giggles.

You giggle. “Well, I don’t want a knight in shining armor.” You reply as you raise the bed up more so you’re more in a sitting position. You wince and adjust your weight, so it isn’t on your left leg as much.

Aiden looks at you confused. “I thought that was what all women wanted, a knight in shining armor to come rescue them and take them to the castle to live happily ever after. Why don’t you want that?” he asks.

You chuckle. “Thank You Disney for giving young impressionistic women such a dangerous ideal! I much prefer Tolkien’s version of Knights/warriors and royalty. If I’m gonna have a knight come and rescue me, I want him in dented and dinged up armor. A knight in shining armor means he hasn’t seen battle and never waged war. You don’t know if he’ll stick around when the battle gets intense, or if he’ll tuck tail and flee, leaving you to fend for yourself.

Whereas a knight in dented and dinged up armor shows he HAS seen battle and had his mettle tested. It means he has fought, defeated and survived what the world has thrown at him. And not fled when the going got tough. He stands and fights to defend what he loves and cares about.” You giggle. “He’s a real warrior!”

Scarlett nods. Aiden just smirks and grins widely. “I guess I never thought of it that way, but I get what you’re saying. It makes sense.” He tells you as he takes a bite of his breakfast sandwich.

“So, speaking of knights, what are your plans for today? Isn’t Sir Guy working all day today?” Scarlett asks.

You giggle and nod catching her Robin Hood reference to Richard. “Yeah, he’s workin’ all day today. He asked Graham if he’d stay with me today and meet with the attorney that Rich hired for me.

I guess I have to appear before the judge to tell him my side of the story. Then I have to appear before him again as my ex stands before him and explains himself. After that, the judge will make his ruling on the restraining order being made permanent or temporary.” You explain.

“How are you going to appear before a judge when you’re in the hospital?” Aiden asks.

“I guess Alex was going to try to set something up using the internet and video calling.” You explain. “I am not entirely sure.”

“Ah, that would make sense then.” He replies.

You nod and are quiet for a few minutes. “Thank you for the flowers and balloon, you two.” You tell Aiden and Scarlett.

“Glad you like them, Hun.” Scarlett says. “You seem pretty quiet this morning. Didn’t you sleep very well?” she asks.

You shake your head. “No, the nurses were in and out a lot checking on me every hour. The officer assigned to guard me ended up telling them to let me sleep and to leave me alone for a while.” You tell her. “I’m just tired and been thinking about a lot of stuff.” You reply.

(You spent a lot of last night thinking of all the people who have helped you and wondered how you can thank them for everything. Saying ‘thank you’ just doesn’t seem to be enough.

You decided to do something nice for each person who has helped you through this. Starting with Richard and Graham. You make a note to ask Graham what you could do for something special for Rich.

You thought about Graham and how far away his family is. You wish you could meet them and say “Hi” so they can put a face with a name. You decide to ask him about his family today and ask him what their names are.)

You ask Aiden how long he has known Graham and Rich. He replied they all met on the set of the Hobbit films. You ask him what kinds of things does Rich like. You explain that you realized you didn’t know much about him, he always turns the conversations to be about you.

Aiden chuckled. “He always does that. And it can get to be annoying. He hates talking about himself. I’ve learned most of what I know just by watching him & listening & observing.” Aiden explains. “He likes to read, and has several Lego sets of the Hobbit. He’s just a big little kid at heart. He likes a good wine, chocolate ice cream, and good coffee, and was pretty good at horse riding and sword fighting. He is frugal with his money, but isn’t afraid to splurge on those he loves. He did mention one time that his Mom used to help him answer fan mail and it meant a lot to him. He really misses her, she passed away a few years ago.

He doodles, and dances, and tends to write back stories for his characters he portrays.” Aiden tells you.

“So, if I wanted to do something super special for him as a ‘thank you’ for all the help he has been, what would be something meaningful for him?” you ask.

“Hmmm. I don’t know. Maybe a nice journal for him to do his writing in, or taking him to a winery for a private tour? I guess it depends on what you want to spend. He really just seems to cherish spending time with you, Harley.” Aiden tells you.

You nod.

“Well, I need to get ready. I’m supposed to spend the day with Graham. I have no idea what we are going to do other than meeting with the lawyer. He said to let him know when I was up and ready to go.” You tell them.

“Ok.” Aiden says as he stands up. “If you want some company, let us know. We can meet up with you later on.”

“Thanks, Aiden, I’ll let you know.” You tell him.

“I’ll head out and get us some breakfast while you get ready. What do you want, Scarlett?” He tells her with a kiss to her cheek and brushes a strand of her curly, red hair off her face.

“I’ll eat whatever you find, Sweetie.” She tells him.

“What about you, Harley?” he asks.

“Thanks, Aiden, but Graham is picking up breakfast for me on his way here.” You tell him.

Aiden nods and heads out to get himself and Scarlett breakfast.

You grab your phone and text Graham. “Morning Pops! What’s the plans for today besides meeting with the attorney?”

He texts back “Morning Sunshine! Not sure what we’ll end up doing. We can figure that out when I get there. Still want breakfast? How’d last night go?” he replies.

“Ok, Yes, can you pick up something for breakfast, please? Didn’t get much sleep. Nurses kept me up checking on me every hour till the officer told them to leave me alone and let me sleep.” You text him. “When ya coming up to see me?”

“Be there in about an hour, Sweetie.” He texts back. “Finishing up some stuff here before I go.” He replies.

“Ok Pops, see ya soon! 😊”

Scarlett grins and shows you that she brought up some of your tops and corsets. “So you feel a little more comfortable.” The nurses said you can put the tops on but want you to wait with the corsets till later.” She tells you.

Scarlett helps you find something to wear and you end up putting on a long sleeved black peasant top with the shorts the hospital provided. A nurse helped with the ports, disconnecting them long enough for you to put the top on and then re-connected the iv’s to the ports.

Scarlett helps you with washing your face and helps with your hair and the two of you have fun playing around with a few different hair styles for your incredibly long hair. The two of you settled on a 5 strand Dutch French braid.

Aiden comes back in after a bit with breakfast for him and Scarlett and said, “Oooohhh! I like the hair!” as he comes over and admires your braid hanging over your shoulder. “Your hair is SO long, Harley! How long did it take to grow it out like that?” he asks.

You giggle. “10 years!” you reply and laugh as Aiden’s jaw drops.

“What?!?! Did you just say 10 years?!?!?!” he asks.

You nod.

“Wow!” he replies as he runs his fingers along the braid. “How do you keep it so soft and nice looking?” he asks.

You chuckle. “Hair oil, and I get it trimmed regularly to control split ends. I also try to keep it in some kind of braid or updo so it’s not just flying all over and getting all tangled up.” You reply.

He nods. “I can’t imagine having hair this long. We thought the long wigs we had to wear for The Hobbit were annoying. They kept getting in our faces and making it hard to see. When we weren’t filming, they were all tied back so it was out of our faces.” He tells you.

You giggle. “But you all looked so damn sexy with long hair!” you tease. He blushes and grins.

Scarlett digs through the bag of food Aiden brought and hands him a breakfast sandwich, “Here, Aid. Sit and eat.” She tells him as she pulls out one and a container of tater tots and sets them on the bedside table.

You giggle and snitch a few tater tots and pop them in your mouth. Grinning wickedly when Aiden says, “Hey! You said you didn’t want anything!”

Scarlett smacks him on the arm. “Oh hush! She can have a few of the tater tots to hold her till Graham gets here!” she scolds.

Just then you get a text from Rich. “Hey Love! Am just taking a break on set and thought I’d say, ‘hi and love you!’ How’s it going this morning?”

You reply back, “Hi Hon! The morning’s going good. Just getting ready for the day. Aiden and Scarlett are here now & Graham will be here in an hour. He had to run some errands before we meet with the attorney.” You message back.

He sends you a thumbs up emoji and ‘Have fun, sweetheart! See you after work. Xoxo’

If you wish to be added / deleted from the tag list let me know:

Tagging: @fizzyxcustard @thorinthehottytotty @dumbassunderthemountain@deepestfirefun @thetherianthropydaily @daisy-picking-lady @spookybunny-blog @dabisburntnut @emrfangirl @midnight-reader-morning-sleeper @hilary456 @criminaly-supernatural

#richard armitage #reader x richard armitage #aiden turner #Scarlett #Harley #Phantom #breakfast #getting to know each other #getting to know you #chit chat #making plans #love notes #fluff #affection

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cocopubpotato · 3 years

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a thor movie summary notes whatever

heya so nobody asked for this but here goes my entire notes of a summarry of the first thor movie

this was for a class work okay

saved you from having to scroll through this

New Mexico ; a person tries to register an anomaly an astrophysicist okay this movie starts differently than I thought thunder storms coming someone up there appears from the vortex and they run over him explanation of Norse mythology and they tell us about the war between Odin and the frost Giants. Orient took their power sources back to Asgard. Because it's a movie it has a chance to show us how radiant and perfect in comparison to New Mexico the reason the story is being told is to show thor and loki that war isn't good the next thing we see is thor being crowned Crown Prince in the event of a frost giant snake into the Asgardian vault to recover their power source and end up interrupting the ceremony. They failed their mission because security at the vault Teresa beat of a Maniac doesn't think properly of his actions this is a bunch of friends that don't matter.

I'm here thor decides to break the rules and still go to Jotunheim even though his brother Loki, who is a chaotic neutral at best, not to and also his friends advised he shouldn't do it but he doesn't care and does it anyway.

Thor's friends are going through Jotunheim to cause a big mess, Thor demands some answers from the ruler of jotunheim, he mentions theres a traitor(ps it's loki) it odins house and ignores that the frodt giant is actually nice and let's them leave but thor starts a fight anyway.

*insert action scene cause this is an action movie* (we also discover as does he that loki is actually a frost giant that was taken by odin during the war)

we can also see thors magnificent strength, odin come to save thors gang cause thors stupid and almost started a war then they have a fight and odin has to punish thor for his arrogance and stupidity by sending him to earth. While taking his powers away and giving the power to anyone worthy of holding mjiolnir thor's hammer.

now we retur to the start of the movie, thor being run over by a pair of scientists and getting tasered by an intern. thor goes a bit crazy on earth because who are these people doing something to the allmighty thor. we also get astrophyiscist science explained. then he gets runovered again. his friends over on asgard are talking about how horrible thors banishment is and loki reveals that he is the one that alerted odin, one of them suggests that loki might be a traitor ; loki goes for the frost giants powersource to learn more about what he is and finds odin. Now we go back to earth and see that thor doesn't know human etiquette.

talking about the hammer, here people find it and since noone is able to lift it a lot of people go near and try to take it; like the sword in the stone. until a certain organization comes and puts the whole area on lockdown to investigate.

the main scientist is called jane and honestly she makes very bad decisions(love interest) gets recommended not to keep on checking thor out; government takes away all her stuff and she gets pretty mad since they take her research. Shield James science equipment and research since discover for some reason she was there in the day the the aka the hammerfell I have some research basically no illegal wait but it's not illegal because they are the law. at Asgard well now remember at the Berkeley Loki is Apple Dutch angles oh yeah look at those odin link has fallen asleep and can't wake up loki is King in the meantime and denies the request to bring out door of his banishment.

back on Earth it's more about Norse mythology because he's curious about thor and everything. Jane takes by thor to the Hammer because she has nothing else to lose so might as well should we get some bad scenes of them flirting cringly that remind me so much of Star Wars Episode 2 which I hate. I really hate how back and forth to the plug go between now we are not now we are on earth we get a little bit of clear statement that I've actually loved Loki as her son as well no door is going to search for the hammer he's like right there I'll decide he only has two Frankie's weighing to hammer sentence on lockdown with hydrogen's hey I know that now PS he doesn't manage to lift the hammer heme Ethan Ward outfit because a crazy psycho that hasn't learned his lesson listen action scene action movie the good thing is that we get to see more dad even though you're lost his Godly Powers he is still very strong and at least holds his experience since most of what he did was close quarter combat combat that's it's an skis and able to live there he gets really mad barroso kinda sad to Luce these thoughts right now so it depends on the script on the right Bluetooth I submit my book like press that he can't do what he used to what's taken away government police.

Loki appears in front of thor and tells him the biggest lie the golden age that because because the war on coming to banish him kills me from the inside he also told him that because your character Golden Tones that I am the one on the throne home Barbie supplies. yeah I'm going to go to war as long as stars exiled and apparently agrees that he shouldn't come back and he has come to say goodbye the end. also Loki isn't worthy of the hammer.

now we give some bonding time foreign doctor Selvig because we need to to care about humans. but also thor takes note of how horrible person he has been. now we see the Loki is truly Daughtry tour and brought some of the soldiers into Asgard there is a key doesn't kill all them himself is because of the weekend that's suspicious if the new king kill the previous one. Heimdall doesn't believe any of lokis s*** price Val doesn't follow the rules he only believes in what's right it's like the most normal character in this thing

Now we get to see Torrid Jean because dorbrook dr. Selby after he drank passed out. Now we get to see more torrin James bonding okay but Jason is actually Exposition because store tells her about the 9 Realms of Asgard which is Earth and the others he apologizes for being a dick she apologizes for running him over oh and give her her research notebook because he grabbed it from the lockdown no to research more because she's actually right about her research on interpreting they have the look in their eyes pierdas relationship lasts yeah like two movies break up off screen. I want to sleep now. yay we get to see the sidekick Arjun game about going back to Rescue I'm bringing back to Asgard I have a lease on board because he doesn't believe inloki's reign yay now the sidekicks are not aired and they're going to search for tour but loki noticed that they left I never remember the name of this enemy but he reminds me so much of the one from X-Men Days of Future Past

Thor's friends found him yay I hear third Lair devil oketokun was a big lie because all his friends are like to know he's in there he's just asleep and then the enemy that guy Air Jordan wrecks havoc and beats Sidekicks up because they suck now they're evacuating the CD so that the Scythe cakes can keep the evil guy's he doesn't kill anyone going because killing is bad okay so because the bad guy is beating everyone really wants to kill tour Thor goes to find friends and he says some inspiring words to save so that she doesn't die kids and now he is worthy because he risked everything to save the others and has become a better person in the span of 10 minutes. thor tells Jane that he will come by he promises her that he will come back but we all know that he doesn't come back until like two years later because the bifrost is broken at the end of this movie because loki overcharge the bifrost it is going to destroy asgard and he can't let that happen but because of that he won't be able to see Jane ever again and he and Loki are almost falling to the universe and Loki let's go and disappears into the universe.

As a very merry and all the people in osgard are celebrating and everything Contender stories their mother and Thor are sad because Loki has gone and they love him like a son and brother and he also misses jane

#i feel like i lost braincells #really i wanna sleep #used dictation.io for this #it is pretty useful for taking notes actually #recommend using it #but ye this movie ain't that good #thor #marvel #mcu

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nightwingshero · 4 years

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Hold Me Down Chapter 2

Yasss! Not only did I find the original chapter, but it’s way better than it was before. I’m super happy for this one! @ja-crispea @chazz-anova @faithchel I thought it would be important for you to know what happened with Wren and her ice cream, because let’s be honest, that’s the true ship of this fic. There’s the twist, spoiler alert. Wren x Ice cream.

It was a hot day, hotter than what it had been for the past few days. I huffed as I made my ascent, my ponytail swayed, sweat gathering at the back of my neck and my shoes slapped against the ruined tile as I went. A small plastic bag in one hand, and a large brown bag cradled with my arm. I was eager to enjoy the rest of my day in my apartment, eating ice cream and wallowing in my self-pity before coming up with another score. My pride was still wounded from getting caught. It pissed me off even more when I had found a chip in my throwing knife. Fucking bastard.

I hated grocery shopping only due to the fact that I didn’t like being around people. Dutch often joked to us darkly that we were in the business of people. Just that most of the time, they ended up dead. He wasn’t wrong, and perhaps that was what twisted my stomach so much. Despite him taking me off the street and teaching me everything all he knew, creating who and what I was, I could never come to agree or appreciate his values. I didn’t like killing and cutting my emotions out was nearly impossible. I was his greatest failure but was far from his greatest disappointment. No, she would always hold that place.

I freeze when I come to my floor, eyeing the man leaning against the wall next to my apartment door that was cracked open. He had a hand in his pocket, the other fidgeting with the toothpick in his mouth as he looked at his shoes. I could tell that his dark tan suit was cheap, his longish dark hair swept back just a bit, and I couldn’t help wrinkling my nose in disgust from his demeanor. I could almost guarantee that he was showered in cheap cologne as he used his false confidence to throw his weight around and I crinkled my nose at the sight of his badge on his belt. Cops. My veins turn to ice as I eye it, fear twisting in my gut. I had been so careful. But I square my shoulders, because I know my rights well enough that he needed a warrant.

“Can I help you?” I asked, my voice curious and a bit annoyed. He wasn’t welcome here, not from a long shot, and I wanted him out of my space.

He looked up, his brown eyes sweeping over me before giving me a lopsided smirk. “Well, hey there.” He straightened, shifting his weight. I eyed his stubble and his hair was gelled and combed back half assed. I fought the urge to rip into him, I didn’t need a detective who believed he was nothing by a womanizer sniffing around me. “Wren Blake, right?”

“Who’s asking?” I replied, narrowing my eyes at him.

He just chuckled. “We’ve been waiting for you.”

“We?” I asked, glancing in my apartment. A woman stood taking pictures with her cell phone in gloved hands. Her dark hair was braided to the side and shined in the light my living room as she took pictures. His partner, I was sure. Her suit was crisp, the black blouse unbuttoned a bit to show off the golden cross around her neck. It’s fast, the way I take her in, but I was trained to be observant. One of the reasons I had survived as long as I have. But I’m tense as her dark eyes find mine, stern and professional. I narrowed my eyes at her. “Do you have a warrant? Because breaking and entering is illegal, Detective.”

“You bet your sweet ass we have a warrant.” The man cut in, taunting me with a smirk. “We’ve been keeping an eye on you, sweetheart. You think you could charm your way out of this?”

“Pratt.” His partner scolded before giving another glance around the apartment as she lowered the phone. She barley acknowledged the underlining threat as she turned and studied me. “Wren Marie Blake. You are wanted for assault, larceny, false pretenses, and I believe there’s a count against you for arson. There’s more, should I continue?” Her voice is confident, borderline cocky, but I don’t rise to the bait. “Wanted in many cities, at that. Word is you made quite the splash in Los Angeles. You’ve been busy.”

“And you didn’t answer my question.” I shot back, shift my weight to my other foot as I adjust the paper bag full of food. “Do you have a warrant?”

The woman took a step forward, her eyes drilling into mine. “You’ve got one helluva rep sheet, Blake.” She whipped a piece of paper out in front of me and I frowned. “And I’m going to need you to come with us.”

I sigh, glaring at the floor by her feet. Defeated, I sigh. “Fine, but can I at least put my food away? I have ice cream in here.”

I couldn’t tell you how long I waited in the interrogation room, but it felt like hours. The room was only lit by shitty fluorescent lighting that gave the room a more eerily feel. I could almost roll my eyes from the drama of it. I leaned back and crossed my arms. I knew they were doing this on purpose, a tactic I wasn’t exactly unfamiliar with. It didn’t really do any good, all things considered. If anything, it gave me time to prepare for whatever they were going to slap me with and asking for a lawyer was the card up my sleeve if this went south quickly. I was ready for every scenario.

The door opened, bringing my attention from my inner musings and to the four people that had graced me with their presence. Two of them were the same detectives I had seen earlier, Thing One and Thing Two. An older man stood next to them, to the side with big glasses and a weird mustache. I could take a guess that he was the Captain of the precinct, but I wasn’t for sure. The other man was pretty much bald, his hair cut tight against his head, and a goatee that almost had me laughing. His dark skin looked almost pale with the lighting of the room, especially with the cheap blue suit and white oxford shirt underneath. He held himself with an air of authority that put him on a pedestal. I groaned internally. I had a feeling I wasn’t going to get along with this man.

He slammed a file down on the metal table, watching me close for a reaction, and I raised a brow at him. It was apparent he had an air for dramatics. “I’m Special Agent Cameron Burke, this is Captain Whitehorse, and you’ve already had the pleasure of meeting Detective Pratt and Detective Hudson.” Ah. He was a fed. That explained so much. He leaned against the chair in front of me as he stared me down. “You see that? We have a whole file against you. You’re gonna go away for a long time.”

I just continued to stare at him, unimpressed. “Yeah. It’s a file. That was a little unnecessary, don’t you think? Things echo in here.”

He sneered. “You think this is funny? A game?”

“No, on the contrary, I find this rather irritating. What so-called evidence do you have against me?” I replied icily. I didn’t have the patience for this, I wanted the hell out of here. He smirked and flipped open the file, spreading pictures and documents across the table.

I kept my face neutral, still unimpressed, but my insides were panicked. I schooled my expression as I studied the black and white shots of me doing different jobs in different cities. Some in wigs, different outfits, and even one from last night before I had walked into the charity gala. I studied the bank statements from an offshore account before I looked at him. “What’s this supposed to prove? Other than the fact that you’re stalking me for no reason?”

Burke scoffed, a dark glint in his eyes. “We shook down one of your fences, Blake. I’m sure Victor Boshaw rings a bell?” He pushed a photo forward of the gruffy bearded man, and right there next to him, was me.

Victor “Sharky” Boshaw was a fence I had been using for a few years, first meeting in Montana. He was completely erratic an unorthodox, and definitely obnoxious. There wasn’t ever a boring moment with that idiot. But I could always depend on him to move whatever I brought him, and he always gave me a decent price. One of the few people in the market that didn’t screw me over, and as off-the-wall he was, he wasn’t snitch. Sharky always had my back, I knew better. He wouldn’t say a damn thing.

I glared at him. “You’re starting to sound like my father who is telling me its illegal to have friends.”

His face burned as he shoved the chair out of his way, slamming his hands on the table. I jumped as he growled at me. “I’ve had it with your bullshit!” I pursed my lips as his eyes pinned me down. “Look, I’ve been onto you, watching you for a few years now. I know you have ties that you try to hide. I’ve been trying to pin down Dutch and that entire organization.”

I paled immediately, swallowing as I felt my body become weightless. That wasn’t expected. “What?” I breathed out and he smirked.

“That’s right, princess. I know all about that.” He slowly straightened, crossing his arms as he began to circle me. “Taking teenagers off the streets, kids that have no future or have been victims of tragedy. Training them young is key, isn’t it? Teaching how to steal, trick, and to read people. Running cons…but it gets a bit darker than that, doesn’t it? That’s just tip of the iceberg.”

I clench my teeth as flashbacks hit me. The abandoned factory had lighting much like this room. It was always cold in that damn place, and the memory sent a chill down my spine. I hated that building. I hated the way that I had looked up to him as a father figure as he put a knife in my hand, and a gun next. Hand-to-hand combat, knife throwing, shooting…the real operation was far darker than stealing diamonds from a plastered elite.

He grabbed the back of my chair leaning to talk in my ear, the smell of his hot coffee breath fanned across my face. “Training future hitmen and assassins in the underground is definitely something the FBI is interested in taking down. I’ve tracked your every step; I have eyes and ears everywhere. Sounds like a certain someone is pretty upset that their perfect little protégé turned her back on them.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. How the hell had he found out? My palms became sweaty, my heart racing as thoughts flew through my mind. I wanted to scream out of frustration, but I knew I couldn’t. That stupid male detective, Pratt, wouldn’t stop smirking and I was ready to claw his face off. My pride was shot to hell and I was pissed that he had known.

“It would be…such a shame if someone were to leak your position to them, wouldn’t it?”

Pure dread settled in as anger raged through my veins. I clenched my fists tightly. “What’s your point?” I hissed. Burke moved again, walking away with a sickening swagger.

“Well, despite the fact that we’re hunting down Dutch and his posse, it occurs to me that well…it seems a bit pointless to use you to track him down with you being defective.” I flinched at his word choice when he finally turned back to me. “The DA believes he has a bigger issue than what us feds have going on, being less concerned for the bigger picture. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Seed family by now?” I furrowed my brow as I looked at him. “I’ll take that as a yes, then. Perfect. That makes this easier.”

“What do they have to do anything? What’s your point?”

Hudson stepped forward with another file, placing it down like a normal human being. “Joseph Seed is at the head of a major crime family, as you know.” Flipping the file open, she placed four pictures in front of me, pointing as she went. “His brother Jacob is in charge of security and running guns. He’s involved with underground fighting rings and training their personnel. His military background helps him out, obviously.” His beard was gruffer than Sharky’s, but his red hair was to the side, with a tight cut on the side. Scars littered his face, almost like burn marks. She would recognize those anywhere. “Then there’s the little sister. The little angel. We don’t have much detail on her, but as far as I know, she seems to be the one recruiting. She’s also their loan shark, so to speak. She also helps set up deals for this one,” she lands on a picture of a man I’m all too familiar with. “In particular. And he is hard to tie down. John is their lawyer, and he’s a damn good one. Knows how to read people like the back of his hand. He’s known for extortion, blackmail, and a few others. He has a lot of important people in his back pocket, making him practically untouchable. And as scary and dangerous as Jacob is, John is the one to look out for. He is known for cutting into people as punishment and is merciless.”

“Grade A psycho.” Pratt muttered with a twist of his mouth and his eyes cast downward.

“The point is, if I had to choose, he’s going to be the most dangerous to you.” Hudson continued, and I looked up at her confused. They hadn’t known about what happened a couple nights ago, did they?

“What do you mean?” I asked. “What the fuck do I have to be worried about? That sounds like your problem.” I replied with a snarky tone, and Hudson glared at me with her jaw ticking.

“Its your problem,” Finally, the Captain spoke and stepped forward a bit. He tried to seem confident, but there was a weariness that I couldn’t exactly place. “Because you’re going to be working with them.”

I stared at him as I let it sink in, and turned my gaze to the fed. “What?” I whispered harshly.

Burke seemed to be enjoying this a little too much as he grinned like the damn Cheshire cat. “We’re going to use those skills of yours to our advantage, since you’re here with your hands tied and off Dutch’s radar. You’re going in as a double agent for us. You’ll be feeding us intel as you spy on the family and help us take them down by providing incriminating evidence that will put them away for life. Things that even the baby brother can’t weasel out of.”

“Are you fucking insane?” I breathed out, eyes wide. “You want me to be a mole? Do you know how hard it is to get into a family like that? And assuming that, by some fucking miracle, I do…you know what they do to people like that? Do you have any fucking idea what they would do to me? They would kill me after making an example of me, you know they would!” I snapped. Frustration was so close to turning to tears as I shifted in the metal chair, but I quickly blinked them away.

“Then I suggest not getting caught.” Burke sneered. “But you would die for a greater cause, Blake. Maybe that makes you feel better.”

“And if I say no?”

He leaned forward slowly, menacingly, and got in my face. “You’re either with us or against us. You either do this…or you go to prison. From my position, it doesn’t seem like you have much of a choice. But what do you say? You in or are you out?”

I walked quickly in the Georgia night, anger and determination fueling every step. I stopped only to light a cigarette, inhaling and savoring the burn in my lungs. I was nothing but a bundle of nerves. They had told me the family would be at the club tonight, celebrating something, but their intel was good. My mind reeled, trying to come up with a plan that could even work. I hadn’t told Burke that John and I had already met, making this nearly impossible. I contemplated approaching him, admitting what was happening, and then getting the hell out of dodge. But the feds were following my every move now, and there was no guarantee John would let me walk away from that meeting alive.

I was going to do this my way, at my pace, and on my own. I had insisted. A dead informant wasn’t exactly beneficial. They laid down the ground rules with check ins and all that. I wasn’t allowed to leave town, let alone the state. I had to stay where they could keep an eye on me at all times. Something told me that Burke had a control issue.

I looked at the half-smoked cigarette before throwing it on the concrete, smashing it with my heel. My black dress hugged my curves tightly, the plunging neckline just subtle enough to keep the classy look. I kept my hair down again, curled just a bit. I pulled it up a bit, adjusting the top so my boobs weren’t spilling out. I sometimes loved this side of it, dressing up in cute, and even sexy, outfits. Sometimes I absolutely hated it, and tonight was one of those nights. I had planned to take it easy for a while, but after the loving conversation with the officers earlier, I had a change of heart. Apparently.

All it took for the bouncer to let me in was a bat of my lashes and coy smile, which I dropped the second I crossed the threshold. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but a dark lounge wasn’t it. Not that I complained at all, considering that I’ve had a rough day so far. I took the dimmed lights, the neon accents creating an ambiance of something I couldn’t quite describe. But it was as if I had stepping into a completely different world. I could get lost to the music playing through the speakers as a group of people danced.

Making my way to the bar, I motioned for the bartender as I folded my hands in my lap with my clutch. I smile brightly at the younger man. Blonde, curly hair with bright eyes, and maybe just a little too eager. I lean forward just a tad, a small smile on my lips. “Martini, dry with extra olives.”

He gave a quick nod before hastily getting everything together, but I paid him no mind. I searched, my eyes scanning face after face, desperate for the target. Detective Hudson had sworn they would be here, no doubt in her mind. Well, good for her. That didn’t ease my doubt one bit. Then again that she had to say could, I felt like I was being fed to the wolves. I hated every bit of it. The bartender returned, placing the glass down gently. I knew he was waiting to engage, but I just grabbed it and kept my attention on the crowd. I wasn’t here for social hour. I was here to watch. And so, I did, taking a sip of my drink.

I spot the sister first. A perfect white short dress with sleeves, her hair falling in waves and her ankles are crossed, ever the lady. Then the rest came into view, my heart pounding hard. A red-haired woman sat with her, holding her hand. They had mentioned that there were significant others, spouses, involved, and as I find Joseph Seed, I see his blonde wife with him. His hair is long, pulled back into a bun, and even though it was late at night and inside, he wore yellow aviators. Just like he had in the photo.

“I believe,” a voice called from behind me, and I freeze for only a second as he placed his hand on the bar behind me, his breath ruffling my hair as spoke in my ear. “I told you the next time I saw you, I would kill you.”

I take another drink as he moved from me, circling around with his eyes on me before taking the seat next to mine. Finally, I found my tongue and spine. “I think it was ‘if I catch you doing this again, I won’t hesitate to kill you’. If I remember correctly.”

John gave a charming smile, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “You think you’re clever.”

“No, I know I’m clever.” I scoffed, taking another sip, my eyes falling on his family again. I finally see his other brother, Jacob, standing with his arms crossed in his grey shirt.

“How cute.” he taunted. I opened my mouth to say something, but that’s when I see her. It takes all the years of my training to maintain my composure, because there was nothing I would love to do than to let the glass in my hand shatter against the floor. Rowan.

She looked the same, just a few more years older. Her dark hair was still long and wavy, her bright smile hadn’t changed a bit. It’s a shock that I can’t really shake, because she’s there, after all these years. I had thought she died, someone finally hunted her down. That’s what Dutch led us, me, to believe. To prove and show what happened if you turned your back on the family. And yet, here we both were, survivors of the dark world Dutch had brought us in.

I feel a hand on my knee the second her dark eyes catch mine and move away, not even hesitating as she looked around the room and the hand squeezed, bringing my attention to the company I was keeping. “I warned you about coming near my family.”

I turned to him with a glare. “You threatened me with your family’s name, and if I’m being honest here, I’m getting tired of it, Johnny.” I sneered, shoving his hand off my knee. I grabbed the toothpick out of my drink, angrily eating the olives. I glanced over again, but she continued to laugh in that dark green dress, like she hadn’t seen a blast from her past. As if she didn’t know me at all. It stung, but I couldn’t tell if her noticing me was a good thing or not. She would blow the whole thing before I could even get started.

John’s mouth twisted and I felt my stomach sink in dread at the realization of what I had just done. Rowan was just one issue, but I completely forgot the one sitting with me. “Better be careful, sweetheart. You’re playing with fire and you’ve been warned already.”

“And you owe me a new knife, Johnny. They are custom made and expensive, and due to your carelessness, the one has a chip in it. Where shall I send the bill?”

“You’re not as charming as you think you are, darling.” He leaned in with a sneer, his eyes promising danger. “And my patience is running very thin with it.”

I leaned forward, my nose crinkling unimpressed. “And you’re not nearly as scary as you believe you are. Now, if you don’t mind, run and get the big bad brother. I’m above dealing with the baby, Johnny Boy.”

His hand flew back to my leg, squeezing and digging his fingers hard into the meat of my leg. My back straightened as I clenched my teeth from the mix of pain and something else. I kept my composure the best I could, but I never hated John Seed more than I did in this moment. Pure loathing like venom on my tongue for the way he always found the upper hand.

“Would you like another, miss?”

I turned to see the young bartender smiling at me, his eyes wandering down before meeting my eyes again. “No.” John replied, throwing the guy a charming smile. “She’s just leaving.”

“Cool. Well, it’s on the house.” He said, throwing me a wink. I gave a fake smile as he walked away.

“It most certainly is not on the house.” John snapped. “I’m not paying for your drink.”

I raised a brow at him. “Oh, the big-time lawyer owns a bar and can’t afford to buy a lady a drink?”

“It’s a lounge.” He growled at me. “And you are not a lady.”

I smirked, my hand finding its way back into my clutch. Grabbing what I was looking for, I quickly press the tip of my knife against his inner thigh. He stiffened, and my burgundy lips curved even more. “Now, I think that you should know a few things about me, darling.” I leaned, my lips finding his ear to whisper. “I don’t like it when men feel the need to put their hands on me without my permission, no matter how big they think they are. And when they do, well…I’m very skilled with knives, John. I’m sure you can use your imagination. Now, if you don’t mind.” He slowly removed his hand, and as he did, I shifted, rising from the barstool. “Thank you. You’re such a dear. Here’s to hoping our next meeting is as lovely as this one.”

“You should hope we don’t meet again, sweetheart. Because I’m not going to be so kind anymore.” He breathed out, his voice ice. I placed a kiss on his cheek.

“If this was you call being kind, then I look forward to seeing the big bad wolf. I don’t mind playing rough. Just make sure you can take it as well as you can dish it.”

I move away before he can register and react. My heart was hammering in my chest, shocked by what I had just done and cursing myself. I was supposed to get in and win them over, and instead I was antagonizing the youngest and one of the most crucial members of that damn family. The one that I needed to watch out for even before any of this happened. And no one knew. I made the decision to keep it to myself out of fear. If they thought I couldn’t do it, I would’ve been done for. I needed to play along until I could find a way out of this damn mess.

I took a turn, a block away from the lounge, and I started to relax. The fear of him coming after me melted away with each step. Passing a dark alley, I slowed to light a cigarette for good measure. A hand slapped my cigarette and lighter out of my hands, and another grabbed a fistful of hair, painfully yanking it back. Fear pierced its way into my chest as I tried to fight back, a black bag being shoved over my head. I screamed, punching and kicking blindly. I suddenly felt sharp pain at the base of my neck, and I dropped to the ground.

`The bag got yanked off harshly, and I squinted from the bright light. It took me a moment to adjust, and then I was finally able to take in my surroundings. I was in a mansion, that was obvious. Marble floors with weird ass designs that rich people swore made them look classier. That was a fucking lie. There was a double staircase wrapping around the room, and directly across from me, the double doors were open and gave me a good view of their pool area at night as thin white curtains danced in the evening breeze.

I go to move, but find my wrists and ankles were duct taped to the chair I was sitting in. It was then that I finally took account for the bulky men in black, standing around quietly with their hands clasped behind their backs. “Well, look who decided to wake up!” A loud and obnoxious southern voice pierced my eardrums, making me cringe. An overweight older gentleman began to make his way towards me, a cane in his hand. He wore just a polo and tan dress pants. I made a face at his sleazy appearance, the slicked back hair and stupid mustache. “It’s about damn time. We have some business to discuss.”

I sighed heavily, a sneer on my lips. “Oh, you got to be kidding me.” He stopped his advance for a moment, glaring at me. But I didn’t care. Tossing all caution to the wind, my anger got the best of me. “I’m not in the fucking mood for any of you. Do you know what kind of day I’ve had? Seriously? What is this? Some backwash hillbilly mob family from the fucking Georgia swamps? Is this what I’ve come to? Which one is the jackass?” I snapped.

His mouth twisted, and he moved faster than I had given him credit for. The sting of my face and the blood that filled my mouth was the only way I registered him hitting me. I spit out blood on his floor, some running down my chin as I slowly gave him a death glare. “Now I have your attention. Damn women.” He turned to the side, eyeing an older blonde in a red dress. She pursed her lips as she held her head high. “None of you listen. It’s why they should never do a damn man’s job. But here we are.”

“Who the fuck are you and what do you want?” I growled.

He scoffed. “Hurk Drubman Sr. I own one of the biggest marinas in Atlanta, selling sailboats. Also give those damn Seeds a run for their money when it comes to smuggling and gun dealing.”

“Haven’t been giving them much of a run, darlin’.” The blonde mocked with a smirk. He muttered something before turning back to me.

“I heard that you’re gonna help those damn feds take ‘em down. That true?”

I just stared at him, my face twisting in shock at the absurdity of the situation. “Where the fuck did you hear that?” I asked, completely exasperated.

“John fucking Seed isn’t the one with ties in the fucking police department.” I frowned, but he didn’t give me time to process that. “Either way, they’re undermining my slave trade, beating my gun deals—”

“Your…what?” I asked, hoping I heard him wrong.

His sick smile grew wider. “Slave trade, girlie. Sex trafficking. Its what’s making most of my money with that damn family taking the most of our business. And if you’re a good girl, you won’t have to worry about it.” A shiver went down my spine as I tried to wriggle in my restraints, but he paid me no mind. “Now, I know you cut a deal with those pigs downtown, but don’t worry about that. What I need you to do, is spy on them and get me information that will help my business grow.”

I sighed, giving up and glaring at the old man. “Are you serious? You expect me to play the Seeds and the feds? What the hell is wrong with this city?” I breathed out. “You’re insane. I would be lucky to even get close—”

“You got pretty close tonight.” He snarked back. “Left a pretty little mark on little Johnny’s check, my men say.” He walked, a cane in his hand as he limped forward. “We can do this the easy way, which is you agreeing and being a good little girl, doing what she’s told. Or, we could do this the hard way. I torture you, force you to agree, and if that doesn’t work…well, I could sell you or kill you. We could flip on it, make it a surprise.”

I forced the bile back down as my stomach twisted. I glanced to my right, catching the eyes of the old woman. She held a frown, glaring at her husband. When her eyes caught mine, she gave the slightest smile and nod, almost reassuring. “Well, let’s assume I say yes and do this, what do you plan on doing? You have the feds on my ass, and if your men aren’t totally blind, they would know that John and I aren’t exactly friendly. I don’t know what you expect.”

“I would like you to learn the ins and outs. Nothing too different than what you’re already doin’. Except you’re gonna give the information to me, frame the family, and take them down from the inside, while I get all their business.”

I made a face. “Oh, you’ve been watching way too many movies. There’s no fucking way—”

The end of the cane was pressed against my throat, cutting me off completely as I gagged. “There is a fucking way.” He leaned in closer, the cane pressing harder. I fidgeted, trying to catch my breath. “And I know something the feds don’t. That tonight hasn’t been your first run-in with John. They know you went to that stupid charity gala, but they have no clue what happened. Johnny can be handsy, can’t he? Especially when he finds out you’re workin’ a job on his turf.”

Stepping back, he finally removed the cane. I took a greedy breath of air. “Then you know that it’s going to be impossible. He hates me. And I would take him ignoring my personal space over this. He isn’t the one that has kidnapped me and tied me to a goddamn chair.”

Hurk laughed, with a shake of his head. “Not yet, he hasn’t. You think is bad, sweetheart? Oh, you’re not that smart, are you? Johnny would have you in the dark with knives digging into that pretty skin of yours, and he would be more than happy to do the honors. And he’s done it to men who have done less than what you’ve done already. People don’t get a second warning from the Seeds. You have, and I’m goin’ to use that.”

I rolled my eyes. “The fact is that I’m on some seriously thin ice with that man, and I won’t be able to get away with whatever it is you have planned. He won’t let me anywhere near that family.”

“You’re going to do this, and I don’t care what you have to do to do it. Become one of his coked-up buddies he keeps around, for all I fucking care. If you value your life, you’ll do this.”

Silence fell between us as I stared at the shiny floor. I weighed my options, not that I had many, and I couldn’t find a way to get out of this one. It just went from bad to worse in less than 24 hours, and I couldn’t believe the amount of trouble I had brought upon myself from going to one damn gala. Swallowing my pride was bitter, but I did it anyway. “Fine.” I bit out. “Whatever. I’ll help you steal the business and take the family down.”

A twist of guilt settled in the pit of my stomach as Hurk smiled. “Perfect! I’m so glad we could see eye to eye. I look forward to our business relationship, Blake.”

“And what do I get out of this?” I asked with a roll of my eyes.

“Hmm…well, how about you don’t go to prison? That you’ll get to leave Atlanta? I think that seems fair, don’t you?”

No. “Sure.” Not in the fucking slightest.

He gave a nod to his men. “Get her out of here. I’m done.”

I opened my mouth to say something, but only a strangled shout of surprise escaped at the black bag returned, blinding me once more.

They had dragged me out of the damn house and thrown me into a van, fully restrained. I had no idea where we were going, but it wasn’t a smooth ride. It’s when we stop do they finally pull the damn bag off and cut my restraints. The bulky man grabbed me while the other slide the door open with more force than necessary, and the shoved me out before speeding away.

I hit the concrete hard, my palms and knees immediately getting scraped. I grunted in frustration as I sat on the sidewalk, yanking my heels off. My body was exhausted, muscles screaming at me with bruises forming on my leg. There were angry red lines on my wrists, complimenting the tattoos on my wrists. I wanted nothing more than a cigarette, and I cursed, realizing that they never returned the clutch purse I had. Anger swelled in me and I fought to keep the tears at bay. I had smoked more in the last few days than I had in months. I had quit, but the new stress was threatening to give me the habit again, and I was more than pissed that I couldn’t indulge in this moment.

Snatching my feels off the ground, I stood and walked into my apartment building. I longed for my bed, and I was set and determined to do absolutely nothing tomorrow. I could practically hear my ice cream calling for me.

The stairs were harder to take than they were this morning, and I hated every step I took with a fiery passion. This night, this whole day, had been nothing but a clusterfuck, and I didn’t know how all this shit could happen in 24 hours. Arrested, manhandled twice, threatening and being threatened, finding a new way to piss off the youngest Seed, being kidnapped, hit, blackmailed…what the fuck could happen next? I was done with the bullshit. I could put a smile on my face, figuratively, and agree to help Drubman so I could get the fuck out of there. I could off both parties while I made arrangements. I was getting the fuck out of dodge while I could, while I was still breathing.

Coming to the floor, it was like déjà vu. I froze seeing the door to my apartment wide open and dread settled heavily in the pit of my stomach. I rushed forward, my hands resting on the doorframe as I looked around.

The door had clearly been kicked in, the frame busted and a small dent in the cheap door. I swallowed as I took in the busted coffee table, torn up and flipped couch and chair. My TV was on and flickering, the screen cracked as the static filled the room. I stepped in cautiously, watching my bare feet so not to step in the broken glass of the table and some of my vases. Water, rocks, and flowers littered the floor. Down the hall, I could see my bed flipped on its side with the bedding ripped to shreds, the feathers from the comforter and pillows blanketing everything like freshly fallen snow.

The kitchen wasn’t spared, with cabinets thrown open, and broken glasses and plate along the counter tops and floor. My fridge and freezer were left ajar as food had been strewn, almost shoved, from its place. My face twisted and I clenched my fist at the site of melted ice cream on the tile. The wall against my counter bar held my busted landline and a note with my knives embedded in the wall to hang it. The same knives that was in my clutch.

I stepped forward and read the note, each line fueling my anger more and more. A threat, clear as day, from my most humble hosts this evening. My hand fell to my side as I look around hopelessly. It was a message within itself. The note was just a cherry on top. Whatever the Drubmans had planned, they were serious, and they wanted to make it clear. I did get some relief when I spotted my clutch on my small kitchen table, my cell phone falling out.

Grabbing it with shaking hands, I send a quick text, trying hard to focus on the keyboard. We need to meet asap. Tomorrow afternoon good?

I only waited a few more minutes before I received the confirmation text, and I fall to my knees, clinging the phone to my chest as I run my hand through my hair. The shaking becomes worse and I let out a sob as the tears break through. I can’t help the panic attack, there’s nothing for me cling to in order to keep me from the spiral. It’s a mixture of rage, helplessness, and stress. I didn’t ask for any of this. I wanted a better life, and I tried to stay in my lane the best I could, keeping my head down. And in less than a week, I had the threat of a rival crime family and the feds breathing down my neck. And worst of all, the potential of Dutch finding me was too close for comfort. Everything I had built, all the work I had done over the years, would come tumbling down around me. And I didn’t even have the chance to process of Rowan being alive. I needed to leave, get out of Atlanta as fast as I could, and never look back.

#deputy wren blake #wren blake #john seed #wren x john #ice cream #wren x ice cream #mafia au #Far Cry 5 #far cry fic #my writing

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inanawesomewave · 4 years

Text

FIRST THING I NOTICE IN A POTENTIAL PARTNER? THE AUDACITY.

Hi, me again, and today I’m here to talk to you about dismissive/avoidant attachment style. Get comfortable and steel yourself, because if you have this attachment style, I’m about to make you feel very seen, and this is only because I had to endure this recently when I was bored and idly doing online quizzes about my own brain because I might not be able to emote healthily, but I sure as heck can over-intellectualise the feelings I should be having whilst I’m distracting myself by doing online quizzes instead.

Attachment Theory was formulated and popularised in 1958 by psychoanalyst John Bowby, and supposes that the first attachments we make (with whoever our caregivers may be) will form the blueprint of the attachments we do or don’t form over the course of our adult lives. My therapist said to me that these attachments begin to be cemented into us when we are pre-verbal, and I thought - well that can’t be right, but sure enough before we can speak we are of course seeking attention and affection from our caregivers with smiling, crying, babbling, cooing, clinging, following etc, and how those behaviours have been responded to will tell us how we should or shouldn’t attempt to attach to others. It’s worth reading up on, if you’re interested in that kind of thing, and I recommend the Strange Situation Experiment in which attachment theory was explored in infants depending on how they responded to being with a parent, without a parent, with a stranger, and alone.

So when I was doing all these online quizzes, I learned a bunch about myself. Did you know I have lots of dark triad traits? That I might be a narcissist? That I am possibly a sociopath? I know, news to me too. I had to sit down. I also learned that if I were a tyrant I would be Col. Gaddafi, and that i have more masculine traits than feminine ones. I have an oral-aggressive personality type, and also: I have a dismissive/avoidant attachment style. And that’s what I want to talk about today, because if you’re reading this blog, you possibly either have it or you care about someone who does.

Dismissive/avoidant types typically grew up without a secure base of safety at home. We had to meet our own emotional needs because it was more reliable and less painful than repeated rejection from our caregiver, and we have disconnected from our own needs for closeness as a means to avoid the shame of feeling dependent on anyone but ourselves. I relate to this hugely, and now I know what my attachment style is, I can pinpoint exactly where I have gone wrong in my close relationships, and why I find it hard even now to really get close to anyone. So, what are some things a dismissive/avoidant person might do? I’ve made a list of mine, and I’ll talk you through some examples. I hope this will help you understand yourself, or the sociopath in your life who seems to be extremely stubborn when it comes to guarding their own love in a miserly way. No judgement: I am that miser.

I will undervalue the importance of anyone’s feelings but my own. I accept I have a complex emotional world, I just don’t find it very easy to access it, communicate it, or assume anyone else has it. Maybe this was because my mother was very cold and emotionally insincere, or maybe it’s because I was always told I was, but that’s the truth. Yes, it’s selfish, but it’s how I’ve always gone about things. Example: arguments in which I rant about my feelings being ignored or dismissed whilst, you guessed it, I refuse to address the emotions of the person who is currently being told how my emotions are being dismissed in quite a heavy-handed way. Not cool.

I have very little space in my emotional world, and I therefore expect perfection in that space. I live by a secret code of etiquettes and ethics that for some reason I have forgotten to tell anyone else about because I had thought for a long time that the way I thought was normal. I thought everyone had these standards that I have, but really they’ve been tricks and pitfalls that partners have fallen down. It’s never been intentional, I just think that things are done a proper way and a wrong way; acceptable or unacceptable. I didn’t realise this for a long time, but I am really good at enforcing what I believe is acceptable, in a wholly unacceptable way. This is why I nitpick and find faults in others, it’s a good way to keep someone at arm’s length.

I say I don’t want commitment whilst silently fully committing to someone without ever letting them know. I have refused to move in with a partner until I have had nowhere else to live and it was the only option left. I had a fiancee who proposed to me four times before he got a yes. I wanted to say yes the first time but I didn’t. Why? I didn’t want him to get too close. It felt like an invasion. Traditionally, when I enter a relationship, I’m the asshole who says, “look, it is what it is, yeah?”. I’ll talk about my disdain of marriage and cohabiting, and then I’ll casually move in and tell you it’s purely logistical. I will be with you for years, maybe a lifetime, and I’ll act completely like this all happened because of chance and circumstance. I will even believe this myself.

I don’t really want to share my feelings with you. I don’t know what they are, I don’t know how you’ll react, I don’t know how they’ll come out and I don’t know what you’ll do with them. It’s much easier and safer for me to keep it all in and then just blow up when you haven’t secretly guessed what they are. You had to guess because I couldn’t tell you, because I didn’t know. You think I’m disconnected from you? You should hear how disconnected I am from my own self.

I will dwell on the past instead of focussing on the future. The future hasn’t happened and I don’t know what it holds. The past is concrete; I have lived it and learned from it. Normally what I’ve learned (perhaps wrongly, because of our old friend confirmation bias) is that all my fears and suspicions are correct and nobody can be trusted. That’s solid, I can take that to the bank. I will very much live in the past where we were briefly unhappy instead of looking to a future where we could be endlessly in love because it feels unrealistic to me -- love feels unrealistic to me.

I’m much better at sexual closeness than emotional closeness. The sex will come first, then the feelings, perhaps. You wanna bone down? Nice. Me too. Do you have any fantasies you never explored before? I bet I know what they are, and I bet I’m into it because there’s a reason I sought you out. I could sense it. I want to never get out of bed, I want to do all of it all the time. For some reason it is much easier for me to feel extremely close and connected to you whilst we are having sex than it is moments later when you are lying next to me wanting to cuddle. I have a healthy relationship to sex, let me be clear -- I’ve always felt perfectly fulfilled in casual set-ups, even one-night-stands. Early on in relationships we’ll do it all. Our relationship will survive for a very long time if the sexual connection is good, even if the emotional one is a shit-show. This is a closeness I feel safe with. Find another time to tell me you love me. You probably don’t even mean it, is what I’m thinking. By this point I’ve fooled myself that you’re in some kind of sex-trance, that I’ve merely fucked you into a relationship you didn’t want to be in. So I’ll tell you that you’re free to leave. I’m told this is hurtful, because if you’ve developed feelings for me, I never saw that coming. I promise. In fact, when I’ve had my “first times” with people I know I might end up loving, I’ve had to be some level of drunk. Not blind drunk, but enough to ease my nerves. I can’t be sober in that environment, I need Dutch courage. And, once the sex disappears on any level, I’ll begin to pull away completely because after that, I begin to believe we are merely friends, and if we are merely friends, then what’s even the point?

I will sabotage a relationship when vulnerability is required of me. This one is quite standard and kind of explains itself. When I find I’m getting very close to someone, when talks need to be had, I make a lot of jokes and when the jokes run out or the person I’m having this intimacy with isn’t laughing, I’ll just dip out in any way I can, and it’s much easier for me to frame myself as the villain because then you’ll hate me and that’s a good job done -- if you hate me, you won’t want to get anywhere near me ever again. I’ll get drunk and say awful things, or I’ll stay out with my friends all night, or stop answering the phone. For this same reason, I don’t tend to love personal displays of affection because then I’m being vulnerable with you in front of everyone. Again, I don’t think any of this is warranted, and I’m not making excuses. I’m just explaining.

I am prone to pining after a partner I have already discarded and have inexplicably begun to idealise. Okay, this is a very hard one to write but I’m going to just write it and I’m going to give an explanation from a personal experience I had that I regret and do feel remorseful about. I used to date someone I fell in love with. He was the first person I’d ever really felt immediately attracted to, someone I could identify very quickly that I was in love with, and that hadn’t happened to me before. I had been in two very long, very serious relationships before him, with people I never felt especially close to. They were a fine example of what they describe as “parasitic lifestyle” in the DSM-V criteria for ASPD: it’s not that I didn’t care about them, but the benefits outweighed the costs - they gave me a place to live when I had nowhere to go and gave me the basic affection I craved. But they both felt like some kind of arrangement after not very long, and whilst I did initially care, I stopped caring, but didn’t leave. I had nowhere else to go so I played the part. It’s worth mentioning too that the first person turned out to be horribly abusive. Then this new man crashed into my life and he was everything I didn’t know I wanted. Our connection was immediate and he had very real, very sincere love for me that he had no issues whatsoever communicating. He’d write me poetry and songs, he was happy to slip into a submissive role completely consensually as I took the dominant role. On paper and in life, it was perfect. We broke up a few times and the first time was because... I can’t explain it. I was head over heels in love with him so one morning when we woke up together after a night of cuddling and talking and laughing, I asked him to leave and not come back. I feel pained about this on reflection, because I remember the look on his face. He left. He got drunk. He drunk-called me. His brother reached out to me. His friends started looking at me with contempt because I had hurt someone they really cared about just months after he told them how happily in love with someone he was with someone he felt was perfect for him, and after I had been making it known that I felt the same. I just told him to leave, and he did, and for whatever dumb reason, he came back. And we were happy again, for a time. He ended up sleeping with someone else after about a year of me doing everything to push him as far away from me as possible on an entirely subconscious level, because I really thought at the time that we were vibing really well. I know the night he did it, and it was the night I told him to leave me the fuck alone and never speak to me again after an argument that we were both raging through (I’m not going to pretend he wasn’t also without his demons, it’s why we were attracted to each-other, after all), the argument was specifically to do with my tendency to push him away after all he’d done for me. And he was right, completely. He’d done a lot for me. And for some reason, I had a massive problem with that. I had become suspicious to the point of paranoia, accusing him of all sorts. I remember telling him how stifled and suffocated I felt, I wanted to know why he was moving so fast (and was he? Really? No, not at all). So, after a long weekend of yelling and crying and frustration and “is this the end?” talks, it reached a peak and I told him to just get the fuck out of my face and stop with all this pressure and bullshit. He went out. He got blind drunk. He fucked someone else. And that still somehow came as a surprise to me, after all, the sex was non-stop, so what could we possibly have had to really worry about? But he had a point when he said I was talking fucking nonsense with all this talk of being stifled. Because when I ended up moving in with him, he gave me my own room because he understood my need for solitude. We would spend most nights together but sometimes I’d need to slope off to my own space, he was seemingly fine about it. When he drove me places I would sit in the passenger seat sometimes on the phone, sometimes just listening to my music with my earphones in. He understood. He said he knew I was an anxious person. I’d sit there ignoring him and occasionally letting him know I was still there with a smile and he’d smile back. Sometimes when we went out walking to the shop or whatever, I felt I had to walk a little bit in front or behind. Not because I didn’t want to be close to him, but I was falling so hard for him that I needed to protect myself via isolation and any desperate grabs for independence I could find. We argued a lot. I started most of those arguments, and sometimes when he fought with me out of sheer frustration, I saw this as petulance and dismissed it completely. When he did cheat, I felt heartboken, but weirdly vindicated in walking away. This was the break I needed from loving and being loved. We broke up for good this time, and what followed was two years of me and him sneaking around behind future partners’ backs to continue sleeping together. And here’s the kicker -- when we were no longer in a relationship and merely having affairs together, I had no issues whatsoever telling him how much I loved him and how much I wanted to be a positive influence in his life, help him through his own neuroses, hold his hand through his own mental health struggles, care for him and protect him. So long as we had this casual relationship, I could finally reveal to him how I felt. I ended up in a terrible relationship after him and I was much happier staying in that terrible relationship with someone who also was very avoidant (though he was also fearful, so had bouts of clinginess and neediness whereas I was more likely to run away). In fact, the person I ended up settling with was also high-key abusive, but so long as I had my ex to run to, I didn’t mind. I had my cake and ate it too -- I had the fucked up security of settling down with someone completely inappropriate, and the escape route of sleeping with someone I was absolutely crazy about. And whenever he, the real love in my life, asked me if we could start again, I was able to play my trump card, the thing that got me out of the commitment: you cheated on me. It was almost too perfect, that I had this perfect excuse to never get close to him again and, in doing so, I could be as close to him as I liked. He took this opportunity too, and we just went on being in love for another two years. We’d go away together, talk about our future, name our kids, plan the wedding we were never going to have. I proposed to him when I was dating someone else. He said he couldn’t take that offer if I wasn’t going to be with him (which is... extremely reasonable). I saw this as another vindication: aha! You just rejected me! I NEVER have to commit EVER AGAIN! And what did I do when everything went to the shit? I idealised him. I pined. My God, I lived in my memories. I never stopped thinking about him. I wrote a fucking book about how much I loved him and had it published. My biggest writing credit to date, dedicated to this one person. This weird bout of romanticism I suddenly had for someone I had spent years pushing away and, someone who inexplicably took this pushing away for what it was. He’d even say things to me like, “why are you so frightened of loving someone?”, “why won’t you just let me love you?”, “what happened to you?”, “what can I do to support you?”. He understood the small things, like the time he wanted to take me away for the weekend and said to me: “I’m just going to leave you in charge of planning where we go to eat for all the meals” because he knew I needed to have that control and he was fine with it, and when I was endlessly boring the hell out of him thinking out aloud about why this restaurant would be good but this one would be bad and this one doesn’t have a menu available online and this one is okay but it’s too far from the hotel and all of that relentless, constant meaningless babble revolving around ultimate control, he just laughed and said: “I’m being patient with you because I understand you”. And he did. And I loved that. And sure enough, I hated that. Time to do something unpredictable, probably. And the wily fucker always saw it coming. The burden of reciprocated understanding, love and patience, right? What a bother.

*heavy sigh*

And I hinged on this lost love for a long time. It felt like pain, it felt like a void. I felt like, with him gone, I might never love again. In my head we’d had this windswept romance that never faltered. I seemed to forget all about the non-stop arguments, I began to understand his infidelity, I excused it, I loved it, I loved him unconditionally once it had all crashed and burned to the ground. So then why did I love him this much after it was all over? So I could continue this cycle of dismissiveness and avoidance. If I was in love with the past, I’d never need to love anyone ever again or let anyone love me. I could resign myself to a lost history and refuse to get close on the grounds of being hung up with my emotional baggage. I used the disaster of that relationship to sabotage future attempts at closeness. I used him as the benchmark to how lovers in future should treat me -- with what, a masochistic acceptance of my push-and-pull approach? It’s terrible, and I hate it. But that’s how that went down. I think a lot about the love I gave to him in spades right before it all went away, and whilst I know in my heart he knew that I really did love him, I will never stop regretting that I didn’t just make it easier on us both. *** I know deep down that my mistrust and disdain for personal relationships, romantic or otherwise, is borne of a fear that I don’t truly believe my own needs are worthwhile or even real. I find myself doing it with friendships, I get close to someone and in my head I start finding fault with them, and I have to stop and ask myself: has this person really done anything that bad, or am I looking for excuses to just not like them? And why am I doing that? Is it because yet again I pride my solitude over anything else in the world? Because my inner monologue is always going crazy with thoughts such as: you don’t actually need anybody, where has needing anybody ever got you before? You’ve got to protect yourself, nobody else will do it for you. Keep some of yourself to yourself, it’s unwise to share who you are with anyone. If you get too involved you will end up disappointed. And, whilst we’re on it, why is this person demanding all my time and energy? What’s wrong with them? What’s their game? I don’t love me, so why do they? What do they want from me? And I know it’s because I was over-controlled and under-loved as a child, teenager, into adulthood, by my mother. She didn’t like me having friends or partners, would chide me for spending time with anyone but her, and whenever I loved anyone else (such as my father), she would go to great lengths to try and blacken that person’s name to me with lies and accusations, try to give me reasons that this person was in fact perverse, hateful, not to be trusted. I carried that into my adulthood, I let it control everything about me. It made me extremely suspicious of any intimacy and closeness and, just like my relationship to empathy, there is a large part of me that will always believe the expression of interpersonal love is some kind of scam designed to catch idiots like me out, and I must always be on my guard. For years I had a folder on my phone full of incriminating screenshots of conversations I’d had with those close to me, people I actually loved, because I never knew when I would need to hit back against them. I needed to have evidence that anyone who loved me was as my mother told me they were -- perverse, hateful, not to be trusted. I deleted that folder when I began therapy, and when I resume therapy again very soon, I have a new goal: I need to learn how to love people and let them love me. No pretending this time, no mask. Teach me how to actually do it. Because I cannot keep hurting the people I love just for loving me, or worse, because I love them. There is no goodness or acceptability to lashing out at those who love you, it’s abusive. It’s completely wrong. There’s no excuse good enough. But now I know why I do it, and I can go fuck myself if I think I’m passing this onto my children. I would never push them away or treat them as my mother did, but they still cannot learn from my example.

So, there it is. My dismissive/avoidant attachment style, and how it looks, and what it’s done. I hope this helps anyone with this attachment style understand themselves, and anyone who loves anyone with this attachment style to understand them -- not so you can put up with it, but so that you can just leave if you need to. After all, if someone is pushing and pushing for you to go, then we should not be surprised when you go. It’s what we’re aiming for.

#actually aspd #antisocial personality disorder #actually antisocial #antisocial tag #aspd tag #cluster b #attachment #psychology #therapy #abuse #neglect #trauma

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nickydestati · 4 years

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tag game: 50 Qs

I was tagged by @bookersebastien to answer 50 questions. thank you so much!! 💙💙

what is the color of your hairbrush? just plain brown

name a food you never eat: cucumbers, they have zero taste imo lmao

are you typically too warm or too cold? lately i’m always too cold but it really depends

what were you doing 45 mins ago? painting!

what’s your favorite candy bar? i think mars or twix, i don’t eat that much candy tbh

have you ever been to a professional sports game? i don’t think so... hm, strange i never thought about that sjfjsk

what is the last thing you said out loud? “Salut, gij ook!”

what is your favorite ice cream? ben & jerry’s half baked 🤤

what was the last thing you had to drink? water

do you like your wallet? yeah! it was a birthday gift of one of my best friends and it’s a beautiful deep green color with nice patterns on it

what is the last thing you ate? some leftover pasta from yesterday

did you buy any new clothes last weekend? no

what’s the last sporting event you watched? oof i wouldn’t know for the life of me

what is your favorite flavor of popcorn? i don’t really like popcorn but i think the sweet one?

who is the last person you sent a text message to? to a girl i’ve been dating lately 😏

ever been camping? with my brother, sister-in-law and sister in france, but the weather was horrible so we had to return early lmao

do you take vitamins? i should really take vitamin d but i always forget it rip

do you regularly attend a place of worship? no, but when i go on a citytrip or something i like to visit churches for the art and architecture!

do you have a tan? not at the moment no

do you prefer Chinese or pizza? pizza all the way

do you drink your soda through a straw? nope

what color socks do you usually wear? i have these really cool socks with all kinds of art pieces on them, today it’s the venus of botticelli for example, i love them sm

do you ever drive above the speed limit? no but i don’t drive that much so

what terrifies you? gonna borrow the being alone/unloved one from gabby, but also being a failure or disappointing people

look to your left, what do you see? the apartment building across the street from my dorm

what chore do you hate most? dusting

what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? brekky (isn’t that what they call breakfast or sth?)

what’s your favorite soda? ice tea!

do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? go in, though it’s been ages since i’ve last been to a fast food place

what’s your favorite number? 6

who’s the last person you talked to? my mom

favorite cut of beef? i don’t even understand this question sjdfsdjk

last song you listened to? dopamine by barnes courtney

last book you read? i’m currently reading the solitude of prime numbers by paolo giordano, but the last one i finished was maurice by e.m. forster

favorite day of the week? saturday!

can you say the alphabet backwards? apparently not (i just tried lmao)

how do you like your coffee? no coffee for me please

favorite pair of shoes? my sneakers

time you normally get up? 8 am, it’s almost scary how i always wake up at exactly that time

what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? how could i ever choose?

how many blankets on your bed? just one!

describe your kitchen plates. Uhm we have some square white ones but also light blue ones with beautiful mandala-like patterns!

describe your kitchen at the moment. a little untidy, but not terribly dirty

do you have a favorite alcoholic drink? i don’t drink alcohol

do you play cards? very sporadically

what color is your car? well it’s not technically mine, but black

can you change a tire? no???

your favorite state? i don’t know enough about american states to answer kjfhljdsh

favorite job you’ve had? i’m working a student job for a professor of mine, collecting data for a database on dutch translations of ancient greek texts he’s making and it’s really interesting!

I tag: @died-by-the-scimitar, @josieforbes, @nicolorenaldigenovia, @destatinicky and @holdingmoonlight and of course anyone else who wants to do it!!

#thank you again!!!!#it was reallly fun!#tag game #hegel talks #not tog

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ofbloodmagick · 4 years

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ROSE ARABELLA GORE

pronouns: SHE & HER + THEY & THEM

age: TWENTY - FIVE

sexuality: PANSEXUAL * DEMIROMANTIC * MONOGAMOUS

astrological signs: GEMINI SUN * SCORPIO MOON + ARIES RISING

occupation: BARTENDER @ DUTCH’S + MULTIPLE SIDE HUSTLES

+ traits: PERSUASIVE. ARTISTIC. RESILIENT. FASCINATING. ORIGINAL. RESOURCEFUL. WISE. ADVENTUROUS. BOLD.

-- traits: ECCENTRIC ( CREEPY ). SECRETIVE. DAMAGED. RESTLESS. TWO-FACED. JUDGMENTAL. RECKLESS. IMPULSIVE.

faceclaim: BILLIE LOURD

soul sounds: PLAYLIST !

aesthetic: ( TW: BLOOD ) BOARD !

YO YO YOU YO — it’s lydia here with my lil blood witch arabella , i have yet to get the chance to r e a l l y play her and i’m super excited for the chance bc i love them so very much. i have headcanon after headcanon for them , so hit me up if you want to do something bc i am ready to do some shit. anyway , LYDIA ( nary , nettle , snottie , etc. ) here again and i love a good name change , i’m twenty-five years old , a pansexual demigirl ( she / her * they / them ) like arabella themselves , and i reside in the central timezone ( FLORIDA IS HELL ). continue reading to learn all about ARABELLA GORE — the intense , mysterious clever little powerhouse that loves to be number one.

PERSONALITY

RULING PLANETS: pluto — planet of power & regeneration * mercury — planet of communication * mars — planet of war & energy BODY PART: crotch * reproductive organs * shoulders * hands * head * face GOOD MOOD: resilient , magnetic , passionate , loyal , protective , artistic , brave , fascinating , original , resourceful , wise , adventurous , unstoppable , bold , devoted BAD MOOD: obsessive , possessive , jealous , secretive , vengeful , manipulative , eccentric ( creepy ) , restless , two-faced , judgmental , proud , self-centered , impulsive , bossy , stubborn , reckless ( SOME ) FAVORITE THINGS: obscure underground music , spicy food , an air of danger , one of a kind objects , organic ingredients , vinyl , magic , the color black , horror films , blood , fast cars , guitars , new clothes , road trips ( in fast red cars ) , expressing themselves through stunning verbal and physical feats ( SOME ) THINGS SHE HATES: simple small-minded people , insincere flattery , personal questions , living at someone else’s house , mornings , dress codes , authority figures , silence SECRET WISHES: to have complete and total control + to have all the answers + to be number one HOW TO SPOT THEM: intense eyes , hawk like gaze , smooth movements , dry blood/bruises/cuts/scars on pale skin , silver hair , big black bow , mischievous twinkle in their eyes , talking with their hands , focused or manic energy , aggressive stance WHERE TO FIND THEM: listening to bauhaus in her dark room , sitting at the corner table of a shitty underground bar smoking a cigarette , selling her magic and / or blood in some dimly lit room KEYWORDS: intimacy , secrecy , power , intensity , obsession , cleverness , wittiness , inventiveness , ingenuity , willpower , initiative , determination , passion , self-belief

arabella’s mind and mouth are busy machines , always moving at warp speed. this witch is one of the most curious and cutting-edge individuals you will meet. there are at least two personalities inside of her at all times. adventurous , she can change her mind faster than the weather and is constantly flipping between moods.

a true pioneer and trailblazer they’re the first to initiate things , fight for their beliefs and fearlessly put themselves out there. headstrong and determined , ella’s energy can be stubborn and willful a lot of the time. she does have a tendency to dig in her heels , stand her ground and absolutely refuses to be pushed around.

they will butt their own metaphorical horns against the same obstacle until they break it down — often with sheer force of will. extremely confident , she believes in herself and will on occasion champion others she deems worthy.

she does love to chatter and has a million great ideas , always keeping a notebook handy to jot down her thoughts and ideas at any time. at times , their energy can circulate in a quick and frenetic way , the silver haired wiccan is known to inspireswitty wordplay and dynamic dialogue.

when she applies herself , arabella is great at brainstorming and socializing. she also craves her “ twin flame ” and kindred spirit’s energy , always up for an intellectual meeting of the minds.

under the influence , they find themselves with the gift of gab; talking and conversing with others for hours , hopping from pop culture trends to deep political topics. beware “ gossip girl ” ella though , they can crank up the rumor mill sometimes unknowingly. as renowned dr. bernie siegel says , “ [ we ] have the ability to cure with either ‘ words ’ or kill with ‘ swords. ' ”

powerful and sensual arabella is perhaps one the most misunderstood and mysterious person you could ever meet though. secretive by nature , this southern witch tends to linger in shadowy and hidden places that most wouldn’t usually have the courage to face.

she believes strongly in life , death and resurrection and arabella embraces these life cycles. she is continually transforming and reinventing herself. there are actually more like four sides of arabella and it really just depends how she feels about you.

the first is venomous and possessive like a scorpion ; the second as slippery , charming and deadly as a snake ; the third like a soaring eagle whose piercing gaze sharply observes the landscape ( and its prey ) below ; and the fourth side ever burning and all seeing as a phoenix that rises up from the ashes into eternal rebirth.

your muse may find themselves dealing with an intense individual with lots of energy. she has been known to hole herself up late at night to process complex emotions or channel her overwhelming feelings into focused work and creativity.

the essence of arabella’s personality is magnetic , fascinating , original , passionate , loyal , protective , trendsetting , controlling , unstoppable , bold , powerful , resourceful , wise , adventurous , focused , bond oriented and brave. on the flip side though , she can also be obsessive , possessive , jealous , prideful , self-centered , impulsive , bossy , stubborn , reckless , competitive , two-faced , judgmental , overwhelmed , secretive , vengeful , to even cruel , calculating and manipulative.

she channels her intuitive tides into a forceful stream of psychic and healing energy. arabella excels in exploring the darker , unexamined sides of life. it has given her excellent research and sleuthing skills , helping her plumb the depths and peer below the surface. this witch likes a challenge , but she does have to really try hard not to fall into being selfish and domineering.

she will without question help out in the darkest hours; this witch bitch is not afraid to go into the murky waters of the emotional and spiritual unknown. intense feelings surface around her closest ties , but around those she isn’t close to ella has a wall up.

believes strongly in merging , bonding and sharing resources. she may get obsessive about a passion project or lover ( forrest ) , even becoming jealous or insecure. this mysterious demigirl wants to hide all of their vulnerabilities. yet , those raw and unprocessed feelings are often their access to power.

arabella can be tricky to understand. with her reserved persona , she seldom starts a conversation or expresses interest in others openly — unless she feels out the situation first.

once you get her to open up , however , you’ll feel her scorching passion for whatever topics fascinate her. be warned: arabella can focus on one subject to an extreme , so you may be in for a deeper dive than you or your muse expect — or want lol

her natural charisma can quickly pique someone else’s interest in the topic too though.

another way to spot the witch ? look for her piercing gaze , which is hawk like at times narrowing in on her “ prey ”. if you happen to be the focus of that look , watch out. you will feel read as easily as a children’s book as arabella seems to just KNOW all your secrets , soft spots and fears.

their focused attention can be addictive , even painful when pulled away. be careful how quickly you fall down their rabbit hole — it’s not as easy to crawl back up once you do. when you befriend them , you are likely entering into a power couple or formidable alliance. while she doesn’t give up loyalty and trust easily , once she does she’ll stick with you through thick and thin.

don’t even think about double crossing her tho bc she WILL unleash her fury on you , divulging secrets and airing dirty laundry or worse. revenge is her favorite dish to serve and it’s ice cold. on a positive note , arabella’s like the perfect person to help explore darker emotions or sexuality , happy to guide most through fifty plus shades of irresistible and soul communing experiences.

arabella can come across as clever and quick-witted , but part of the fun ( and curse ) of interacting with the witch is that you’re never quite sure which personality you’re going to experience. will it be the vivacious jokester or the snarky , mean-spirited critic ?

although they may crave complete and utter control over everything , they secretly yearn for the very thing they fear: true intimacy with others. it takes a lot for ella to reveal her vulnerability , so guard that privilege with the utmost care. as she opens up and learns to show her shadow side , she can heal in ways that are truly profound.

highly impatient and competitive , they have the fighting spirit. ella were born to be number one , a star who steals the spotlight and inspires with her confidence. yeah , they can be impatient , even a little bossy , especially when they don’t get their way. she need lots of attention and can throw quite the tantrum when she doesn’t get it. fortunately , arabella rarely has a problem turning heads.

others love to follow as they take the lead on the latest adventure. she has to be reminded to make sure and let other people be the boss every now and then too , because she has a tendency to alienate potential allies. when they focus their competitive streak into a diva-worthy goal and delegate , they will always rise to the top !

they have a lot of energy , which they apply to everything from tackling supersized projects to unleashing their lusty libidos with forrest. this confident demigirl is known to leap before looking , diving into each new experience with a zest for life that few others can muster.

they love to be number one and can be a bit of a trendsetter. she has been described before as ‘ a true original who inspires the rest. ‘ with all of their fire power and can-do attitude , there’s nothing arabella can’t ( or won’t ) take on. at times , ella can be selfish or overly focused on herself and it can be a “ blind spot ” for them , they may need a gentle reminder from time to time to share.

she likes to shatter glass ceilings but can also be off-putting to people in extreme doses. this go-getter can come across as abrasive or overly aggressive , however; arabella will never back down from a challenge and can take on being the champion of those in distress when need be.

BACKGROUND

( TW: child abandonment ) so arabella doesn’t know her parents are but she does know that they ended up in some small southern town called suspiria , located in virgina of all places. her mother was really into the surface level southern gothic aesthetic suspiria offered and the unlikely couple settled there until arabella was born. her parents didn’t keep her very long though seeing as their shotgun wedding was never built to last and after she was born they both returned to where they came from or at least that’s as far as the story goes if you ask anyone in suspiria.

( TW: military ment. , death ) her parents actually went their separate ways , her mother returned to her wealthy family and comfortable life never to seek out the unnamed child she’d left behind in some no name town. her father went on to join the military and was lost in the line of duty with no one to even pass that knowledge on.

the infant rose , as they were first called back then , was left on the doorstep of an orphanage and that was where they would spend their childhood. it was not a pleasant place to grow up at all , but she was incredibly lucky in finding her twin flame in a sad , lonely young boy also growing up there.

little ella was never once adopted and she made damn sure to change the minds of anyone who so much as looked in her direction or asked her name. they grew an unhealthy attachment to forrest almost the minute they laid eyes on him , but they are connected very deeply and even as children arabella was acutely aware.

growing up ( maybe even to this day ) they were considered a loner , an outsider , the weirdo , a creepy kid , etc. and the bullying only got worse. the people in the shitty children’s home and the tiny backwoods town in virginia ? they didn’t really respond too well to the two strange kids that collected animal bones and hunted for ghosts.

in their early teen years ella started practicing satanism , but that was really just a gateway religion into wicca and her true passion , witchcraft. forrest took to it just as quickly as they did and soon the two had formed their own little coven , something that didn’t stay secret very long.

forrest , being the more scholarly of the two , found himself working for the governor on his campaign and eventually recruited arabella to do the same , but she worked more closely with the governor’s wife and the children. it only took a week , two tops , for the power hungry woman’s true intentions to came to light — dark magic.

( TW: cheating , infidelity )it’s true that ella helped with the gardening , the children , the cleaning , the cooking , all the usual suspects but she also did a number of spells involving blood and shadows. the items they created most for the governor’s wife was their own recipes for love potions and anti-aging blood serums. the woman was extremely suspicious of her husband having affairs with younger women , pretty self explanatory as to why she was seeking help from a known magic user.

( TW: blood ment. , devil ment. ) it was something of a hot topic in suspiria , the governor and his family hiring the two freaky orphans and why. not long after , a photo was leaked of the governor’s wife as arabella painted her face in the bright crimson blood serum they had concocted themselves. it was common knowledge by then that the two practiced witchcraft and suddenly every headline was about the governor and his wife being ‘ corrupted by the evil devil worshipers the kind family had taken pity on. ‘

( TW: assault ment. , death , arson , house fire ) the town ? literally ready to burn them at the freaking stake and the two couldn’t go anywhere without fear of assault of some sort or worse. to make matters all the worse , the governor’s wife and children perished suddenly in a terrible house fire and who was the easiest target to pin it on ? arabella and forrest , the two town rejects , which is exactly what the governor did. they were treated as murderers , hunted like criminals , which is why as soon as they found out about the raging fire they left town.

( TW: death ) for the next four years arabella and forrest were on the run from the governor and his goons , not stopping in any one place for very long for fear of being caught up to. over a year ago they finally got word that the governor had kicked the bucket and that anyone still looking for them likely had stopped by now. not long after , arabella came across a beautiful , vintage gothic home far more expensive than it was priced , but luckily for them the home had a rather grisly history and had been on the market for so long that the owners had cut the asking price tremendously.

( TW: scamming ) arabella was convinced that it was a sign from the universe letting them know it was okay to settle down for good now and once she’s convinced there’s no real changing her mind. so , by halloween of 2019 they were moving into the beautiful gothic home of the witch’s dreams and not long after they had rooms in their ‘ haunted home ‘ listed on every website possible to lure in dark tourists everywhere. how true everything is ? well , the two did take quite a few creative liberties and the occasional diehard , truly experienced fan of the paranormal would ( possibly have ) call them con artists.

( TW: scamming ) not only do they rent out rooms , but they also have the occasional ‘ murder tour ‘ of their ‘ serial killer ‘ house. what it really boils down to is arabella has been hustling their whole ass life and it’s never going to stop. there is quite a bit of truth to their stories , but though both ella and forrest have encountered the paranormal multiple times in their lives , not just in pleasance either , they’ve never had any real activity that could count as reliable proof. everything involving the businesses run out of the house are little more than sideshow entertainment for pleasance dark tourists.

( TW: blood ) the witch also has a part time job working for jules at dutch’s , her official title would be a bartender but she really just does what is asked of her. you probably guessed it already , but she does also have a side operation selling her blood magic from underneath the bar at dutch’s and they’re hopeful that their boss is none the wiser.

ETC.

she does still have a slight accent because she is from such a small town where everybody had a drawl or twang. she doesn’t have a good education by typical societal standards , because she had such shitty public education growing up as an orphan and no one who enforced her learning or attending. they are , however; incredibly street smart and by no means stupid. they have since taught themselves how to learn in a way best for them and are always devouring book upon book in order to teach themselves things otherwise she may never know.

( TW: blood ) ella is a blood witch and often uses her own blood , animal blood , someone else’s blood , pretty much if there’s blood in any form she’s set. she 100% sells her magic to anyone who wants it and does dabble in the shadow side. it might not actually work all the time , but that’s not entirely her fault.

( TW: bruising / injury ment. , blood , scar ment. , self harm ) a pretty big feminist , used to be in an all femme band called the hex girls ( come for me ) , goth and proud ??? a really big horror movie fan , pansexual demigirl representinggg ! always has bruises and cuts , dried blood covers their skin a lot where they miss it or just don’t care to hide it , also has quite a few scars from where she’s cut too deep ( some maybe on accident , some maybe on purpose ).

( TW: blood ) ella’s very creative ! they like to read , write , make art — out of blood lol she uses blood of all types to create a lot of art. she takes blood baths ( animal blood ) occasionally on the full moon , drinks animal blood during certain rituals , etc. also super into bone and taxidermy , you can definitely find her at deblanc’s. they also like to haunt the cemetery and creep around spotlight cinema , film is a big passion of hers.

( TW: drugs & alcohol ment. , blood ) DOES imbibe lol a partaker of alcohol ( prefers animal blood with red wine or vodka ) and certain drugs. ella definitely smokes weed & cigarettes , they enjoy partying just like the rest but she’s more reserved and likes to people watch.

okay so it’s getting late and i can’t believe how long this intro actually took me to finish tweaking , but if you want to plot with me pls pls pls hit me up bc i’d love to do some stuff !! my tumblr DMs are always open and you can always hmu on discord too !! i also write bryce winslow ( milo ventimiglia FC ) but you likely know that lol. i’m sure there’s more i could say about arabella honestly , but if you have any specific things you’d like to know or it seems like i left something out or need to take a second look at something i’d appreciate any / all feedback. can’t wait to get some replies out , but that might have to wait until the morning. @phqextras

#DOSSIER.#phqintro #TO BE TAGGED.#she like actually has tags #i swear #like already done #bless up #swear to post them tomorrow #BLOOD TW #DRUGS TW #ALCOHOL TW #INJURY TW

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