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avatar-anna · 3 months

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The One About the Documentary

i watched part one of the yolanda and selena documentary so you don't have to...and it pissed me tf off. anyway enjoy!

Harry Styles x Latina! Reader Masterlist

When his girlfriend asked to watch the documentary, Harry said yes, but hesitantly.

In all honesty, Harry didn't think Y/n would have any desire to watch it, but at eight o'clock sharp, she was on the couch armed with a bowl of popcorn and two bottles of coke, one for him and one for her.

"Can I ask why we're—"

"Shh! It's starting."

Harry settled into the couch, his arm around his girlfriend, whose eyes were glued to the TV the second the documentary began.

*.*

"So Yolanda's the only one who knew about this alleged affair?" Y/n said to no one in particular. "Yeah fucking right. I hope Chris Perez never watches this."

Harry covered his hand with his mouth to hide his grin. His girlfriend had a knack for talking about people she didn't know as if they were good friends.

Taking a handful of popcorn out of the bowl, he kissed Y/n's cheek. "I don't imagine anyone close to Selena is watching this."

Huffing, Y/n slumped back against Harry's side, angrily chewing popcorn. "I hate her," she grumbled, and he knew she wasn't talking about Selena.

Playing with a strand of her hair, he turned his attention back to the TV. "I know."

*.*

"¿Un accidente? ¿Fue un accidente?" Y/n all but shouted at the screen. Her brows were narrowed in an adorable glare, nose slightly crinkled in anger. "Are you kidding me? You shot her! In the back! Twice!"

Harry debated whether to intervene or stay seated on the couch. His hand reached for the bowl of popcorn in the meantime, taking a handful as he watched his girlfriend shout at Yolanda Saldivar.

"Lovey, maybe we should turn it off," he ended up saying.

Her head whipped around, her glare landing on Harry, though he knew it wasn't aimed at him. "Why?"

Why? he thought. Because you hate Yolanda and I'm not sure my arm can take anymore angry punches.

"You seem a little...heated?"

Y/n's eyes blazed. "Of course I'm heated! This whole thing is bullshit!"

Harry knew his girlfriend was passionate, it was one of the things he loved about her. And one thing Y/n happened to be passionate about was Selena Quintanilla Perez.

"I know that, and you know that, so why are we watching this?"

Y/n had sent numerous messages about the documentary in question when word first got out that it would be released. Fiery texts about how ridiculous it was that someone so horrible was making a documentary after all these years, about how no one would ever be stupid enough to take Yolanda's side, and so on. Harry, of course, was inclined to agree, but he also thought Y/n was merely ranting about the trailer. He didn't think they'd be sitting down to watch it. Honestly, he thought his girlfriend wouldn't have given it the time of day.

"I—I don't know, but I can't just not finish it," Y/n said. "I'm watching in protest."

Swallowing a laugh, Harry pulled his girlfriend back onto the couch. "Okay, then, lovey. Then sit down and let's finish it."

*.*

"Oh come on, Yolanda," Harry groaned, his voice nearly reaching Y/n's frustrated levels. "If all this evidence has been sitting in some storage unit for all these years, why is it only coming out now?"

Y/n was practically bouncing in her seat on the couch as the woman in question spoke. She shook Harry's shoulder with her hands, but he was used to it by now. This was a normal occurrence for any movie night.

"That's my point!" Y/n said. "She's evil. She'll be hard pressed to find an unbiased jury when it's time for her parole."

"You think she'll really be let out on parole?"

Y/n shrugged, her eyes on the television. "She'd probably be safer in solitary."

"Y/n!"

"What? It's the truth!"

*.*

"¡Bruja! ¡Mentirosa! Who the fuck is buying this? You admitted! ¡Me cago en la reputísima madre que te parió la reconcha de tu—"

"Aaand that's where we'll stop," Harry said, turning the TV off with a definitive click of the remote.

"Wha—Why? It's almost done!"

Harry ignored Y/n's protests and took her into his arms, taking her away from the TV and the couch and the popcorn, which she'd begun to throw at the screen in outrage. As he took the stairs up to their room, Y/n turned to begging, promising she'd behave and stop throwing popcorn, but Harry was having none of it.

"This is for your own good, lovey," he said. "It's not healthy to be angry like that."

"Oh, so I'm being irrational?"

Harry merely rolled his eyes. "Now you know I didn't say that."

"Well...You're...Put me down! I need to finish!"

"Not tonight, lovey."

Harry set Y/n on the bed gently. She crossed her arms and glared at him, but it was half-assed, and not entirely directed at her and still at Public Enemy Number One.

She gave him the silent treatment as they got ready for bed, but Harry knew it wouldn't last. His girlfriend had a short fuse, but the emphasis was on short. Y/n didn't stay mad for very long, she never had as long as he knew her. Harry gave it until he got to the second chapter of his book and the silent treatment would come to an end.

It took the third, but Harry smiled a little as Y/n held hos cheek in her hand and kissed the other. "I'm not gonna apologize for being angry," she said.

"I wouldn't expect you to. I know how you feel about Yolanda Saldivar."

Y/n hummed. "But, I apologize for the popcorn. And the excessive profanity. And for bruising your shoulder."

Setting his book down, Harry looked at his girlfriend, nothing but affection—and perhaps mild amusement—in his gaze. "It's okay. I hardly felt a thing."

"Liar," Y/n giggled. "But thank you for putting up with...I don't know, me, I guess."

Harry took that as his opportunity to kiss her properly. Y/n squeaked in surprise, cradling his face gingerly as he slotted his lips over hers. Laying her down properly on the bed, he hovered over her, his hand running along her bare thigh and up past her night gown. Because Y/n was the kind of woman who wore little nightgowns before bed.

That was how Harry knew she wasn't totally mad at him. She wore one of her shorter, more revealing ones. She had a couple that went down to her calves that weren't expressly for when she was pissed at Harry, but he knew—though the joke was on her, he thought she looked just as sexy in those.

Y/n wrapped her legs around Harry's waist, her arms twining around his neck as he kissed the shell of her ear, the curve of her jaw. "It's not 'putting up with,' lovey," he murmured. "You should know that by now. If anyone puts up with anyone in this relationship it's you."

Leaning up on her elbows, Y/n made Harry look her in the eye. "So we're both a little crazy. That's nothing new."

Harry just grinned down at his girl, admiring the soft look in her eyes, the amused arch of her brow, her swollen lips, and chest that breathed heavily. Y/n might have had a short temper, she might throw popcorn at the TV when it made her mad, and she might curse and hit him when she felt particularly outraged, but she put up with all of his quirks with a smile too, loved him for every single one. Harry took up most of their shared closet space—which he had a weird thing about color coding—he had a tendency to talk in his sleep, he had to sit on the same side of the couch and made Y/n move if she was sitting on it (though now she knew better), he often scraped the bottom of the rice pot into the sink before Y/n could save her favorite crunchy parts which drove her nuts, and he had the unfortunate habit of leaving the cap off his toothpaste.

And there was the whole no-privacy thing because of his job, but that wasn't much of a quirk.

"I'm cool with it if you are."

Y/n smiled. "So you'll watch part two with me?"

"Hell no. But I will support you if you decide to scream at Yolanda and her fucked up family through the TV a second time."

"You're gonna regret that," Y/n said as she began to run her hands down Harry's broad shoulders. "Selena. Morning and night. Every minute of every day."

"That's...not a threat, lovey."

Y/n pouted. "Shit, you're right. I'll...only speak Spanish around you so you never know what I'm saying."

Harry's grin widened as he leaned down to kiss her collarbone. "I don't think you realize how sexy you sound, even when you're cross with me. Or your arch nemesis, for that matter."

"Well then I'll—"

"Face it, lovey. There's very little you could use to threaten me," he said, dragging the words over her neck. "Now let me love on you a bit before bed."

"What if I said no?" she asked, even though they both knew she wouldn't. Y/n just liked to be contrary for the sake of it.

"Well that would just be cruel to the both of us, wouldn't it?"

Finally relenting, Y/n slumped back against the bed, bringing Harry with her. She held the back of his head, her grip firm as she brought his lips to hers once more. Harry hummed triumphantly against her mouth, savoring the taste of her on his tongue. They eventually found themselves tangled together, Harry on his back while he hugged Y/n close to his chest. One hand was buried deep in her hair while the other kept a steady grip on her waist. He already knew each little sound she made, each reaction burned time and time again into his mind. But he collected each sigh, each graze of teeth like it was the first time, savoring it like this would be his only opportunity to ever kiss her.

Infatuated. He was infatuated with her. He loved when Y/n was loud and bright and opinionated, and he loved when she was shy and demure and unsure of herself. He loved the way she said his name when she was exasperated by something he did, and he was obsessed with the way she sometimes started speaking in another language without realizing it. He loved the way she loved him, so confidently, so tenderly—he loved that each devouring kiss seemed to say that she was just as infatuated as he was, that he wasn't alone in these intense feelings.

"Love you, bubba," Y/n murmured, the words getting tangled in their kiss.

"Love you," he replied.

It was all there really was to say.

#harry styles #harry styles x latina! reader #harry styles x latina reader #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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thestoryofusstan · 4 months

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Soldier, Poet, King

pairing: harry styles x fay!reader

summary: amidst a fay hunt in your village, you fled to a different town far away. a human town. wanting to keep your identity a secret, you allow the townspeople to name you angelina. you're doing fine in the town until a mysterious man appears for unknown reasons. harry. and you don't trust him one bit.

warnings: cursing, violence, a religion similar to christianity gets bashed (not actual christianity though), magic (duh), angst, slowburn, some triggering topics such as abuse, murder, and sa.

—

thankfully, harry didn’t have to wait long to spot angelina, or angel, again.

he was wandering around the square, looking at the different merchants, when he heard that silky smooth voice.

“in my old village, we had a story.”

“what story!” the children gathered around her cheered. she was sitting on the well, and harry almost worried that she’d fall back, into the well.

“it was a legend about three people.. and we had a little song for it, too.”

“sing the song, miss angelina!”

“sing it!”

she laughed, “if you wish.”

she stood up on the well and began dancing around.

“there will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword,” she posed as if she was holding a sword. the children giggled.

harry came closer, still lingering in the shadows.

“he will tear your city down, oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. he will tear your city down. oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord.”

the townspeople who gathered began clapping and stomping to cheer her on.

“there will come a poet whose weapon is his word,” she bent down to the children’s level. “he will slay you with his tongue,” she snapped her fingers in a kids face. he jumped and she laughed a silvery laugh. “oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. he will slay you with his tongue. oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord.”

“there will come a ruler whose brow is laid in thorn,” she grabbed a book from someone and set it on her head, balancing it as she walked across the cobblestone platform of the well. “smeared with oil like david’s boy. oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. smeared with oil like david’s boy. oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. he will tear your city down. oh lei, oh lai, oh, lord. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh, lord. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh lai. oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh lai, oh..”

and then everyone in the town shouted, “hey!”

everyone flooded out of the square and went back to their lives. their parents grabbed them and yanked them away, scowling.

angelina, however, smiled as she hopped off the well.

“the soldier, the poet, and the king,” someone commented behind her as she walked away.

she turned around to see who shocked her, and saw harry.

“you know it?”

not many human people do. it was a fay folktale from many years ago. it predicted exactly how their kind had grown scarce. the introduction of the new religion deemed them evil beings. people came to slaughter them, so as to cleanse the world of evil. the soldier. the poet was their supposed prophets who heard this all-powerful deity. the poet. their deity wore a crown of thorns. the king. the remaining fay villages still sang the song, because it could very well happen again. and they didn’t want to forget their ancestors.

“i do. it was very famous where i came from.”

she inhaled, before, “and where is that?”

“where is what?”

“where you’re from. you’ve got an accent.”

"so do you," he pointed out.

"mine is still of this country."

he hummed before answering, "overseas."

"overseas?" she gaped. she hadn't been aware there were lands overseas.

he nodded, "what about you?"

"a village. far, far away from here--"

"another world from yours," they said in unison. her head snapped to meet his gaze. he held a knowing smirk.

"how did you know i'd say that?"

"i've asked around about you."

she tensed, "why?"

"you confuse me. i'm curious."

"well, stop," she snapped before storming off.

—

she didn’t see much of harry for the next few weeks as the winds grew colder. winter solstice was approaching, and angelina very much wished she could go home for solstice.

until she got a letter from the postman.

nobody mailed her.

except…

“miss—“

she clocked the feeling of magic from this postman immediately.

“do not say my name here,” she quickly told him. she stared for a moment before recognizing him. alvaro. a fay from her village who would often find fays hiding in human towns to send them intel.

in this case, her.

“i apologize. but.. the people here do not know it. i figured it’d be safer this way.”

“right. of course. from.. the motherland.”

motherland.

her mother. that’s what they’d say so humans didn’t know they had family elsewhere.

“thank you.”

he nodded before leaving. she shut the door and went upstairs, to her rooms.

she grabbed a letter opener and broke the wax seal, making sure to preserve it. her mother had the most beautiful seals.

dearest —

she paused. someone could break into her house and read this. she skimmed the letter and made sure to block out her name anywhere it was said.

dearest —

i hope this letter finds you well. we have taken up residence in the olden lands. i couldn’t bear to not have my daughter home for solstice, —. so, i have made sure, and it is safe. please come home for solstice. i have figured out where you have taken residence in. a word of warning: be wary of those you do not know, and even more wary of those you do. it is the least expected who betray us. anyway, in order to find us, look inside your heart and find the river. follow it where your gut tells you. that is where we are.

please return by the second night before solstice celebrations. we are beginning festivities. please, do not bring friends unless fay. we cannot risk it.

love,

your mother.

she smiled. she could return home for solstice. and although the directions would’ve made no sense to anyone else, she knew exactly where her coven resided.

you see, solstice was a big deal for all fays. but fays were grouped in covens, who all worked and functioned differently. typically, most covens all had one general ability. her coven was different. her coven had all kinds of abilities. one thing that was the same for all fays, however, was that solstice was a celebration. decorations, festivals, presents, everything like that. and fays were their most powerful on solstice, so her coven had.. a ritual, of sorts. you weren’t allowed in on it until you were thirteen, so she’d only experienced one before she’d fled. she hadn’t celebrated with her coven since.

the ritual was one of gaining the power for the coven. the women would travel into the woods (the women went only because female fays tended to be stronger, and the ritual also required only women. men were allowed to watch, though. they simply couldn’t participate, and celebrate mother nature for getting through another season, and creating their kind.

in gratitude for their thanks, mother nature would give them power that they’d share with the coven.

fays were always powerful, but solstice was like a recharge. it wasn’t as if powers could fizzle out, but if a fay was either older or younger, their powers would need more refreshing.

solstice was in a month. and if they were living where she knew they had to be, it’d be a week journey, meaning she had three weeks to prepare. solstice was only one day, but festivities lasted a week—

suddenly, she had a gut feeling. see, fays had intuition. and with their coven, it was stronger than it was with any random stranger. she could sense if someone in her coven was in danger. and who it was that was in danger.

and she felt like alvaro was in danger.

she dropped the letter and ran down the stairs, and out the door of the flower shop.

she followed the pull of her magic, like a rope, until she was led into an alleyway. she hid and listened in.

“what is your business?”

“i was delivering mail! nothing else!”

“to whom?”

“i— i..”

“to me. unhand him, harry. now,” she demanded. she was right. harry was untrustworthy and dangerous.

and for some reason, harry did as she said. he removed the dagger at alvaro’s neck and pushed him away, towards angelina.

she grabbed him and pulled him behind her. she turned quickly to whisper, “go home. do not tell the others of this. i have it under control. now go.”

alvaro nodded and ran off. angelina composed herself and crossed her arms.

“is there a reason you were threatening him?”

“who sent you mail?” he fired back.

“my mother invited me home for the holidays,” she simply answered. it was a common enough occurrence.

“i didn’t take you as one to celebrate the forthcoming.”

that was the new religion’s holiday. a sad excuse for solstice. it wasn’t celebrated on solstice, but they celebrated similarly. trees and presents and festivities. only theirs lasted one day.

she shrugged, before there was a beat.

“walk with me,” he said. not a question, an order.

she sighed before following him as he walked. they began walking through town square in silence. it wasn’t too busy.

“you are a mystery,” he said.

“i don’t try to be.” a lie. she did.

“i want to know why you let everyone call you angelina.”

“a name is the definition of who a person is. if they think i’m angelina, then i’m angelina.”

“but that isn’t your birth name.”

he said it as if he already knew the answer, “no. it isn’t.”

“so it isn’t a true definition of who you are. your birth name is your definition.”

“i suppose you are right.”

after that, he dropped the subject. and began doing anything he could to make her laugh. and as she was laughing at him attempting to juggle some apples from a merchant booth, she heard a name behind her.

“angelina?” the voice was betrayed.

she tensed and turned around. aven was standing there, looking betrayed. of course, she did. she thought harry could be her suitor.

“what is wrong with you?” she asked before storming away.

“aven, wait!” she called, chasing after her.

aven stopped and whirled around. “you knew i liked him!”

“no! all i knew was that you said a man came into town and he was suitor age! i didn’t know! nothing is going on, we are only talking!”

“you’re such a liar, angelina. about everything! angelina isn’t even your name!”

even if it was true, that hurt. her lies weren’t hurting anyone. they were to protect herself.

“do not pull that aven, you know why i don’t tell people my name!”

aven had asked one day, and angelina answered.

“where i came from.. it got too dangerous. my family and i were trying to escape and i got lost. i didn’t want the people chasing us to find me.”

“no, i know the vague answer you gave me that answered nothing at all! talk to me when you’re ready to actually tell me your name.”

she stormed off, and angelina stood still, blinking away tears.

a hand grabbed her wrist and she jumped, ripping it off.

“it’s just me.”

harry.

as if that was any more comforting after he tried to slit alvaro’s throat.

she turned around. “i don’t want to see you again,” she said.

“what?”

“you just ruined the only friendship i had.”

this was irrational, she knew that. it wasn’t harry’s fault. it was hardly even her fault. but harry was dangerous and had too many questions. he was curious. and she knew he’d figure her secret out, and then she’d be dead.

“don’t do that, angel,” he warned.

“goodbye, harry,” she mumbled, turning and walking away. she was barely fifteen feet away, when he spoke again.

“i know you’re a fay.”

it was said like a threat. her blood ran cold, and she froze.

shit.

—

a/n: .. hey.. !!!!!

taglist: @boomitsallie1

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lucaswarmhotchocolate · 2 months

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harrymort but harry has a gun. please. someone tell me I'm not the only one who has thought of this. I just feel like harry would be a very good mid-range handheld pistol (I think that's what I'm thinking of idk) user. like 1. it's hilarious to imagine Dumbledore being all vague and mysterious about a Very Important and Serious Weapon that he wants harry to learn how to use, and harry getting all nervous like "omg what niche magical artefact is he talking about" only for old dumbles to pull out a western-style very ornamental gun like "don't point it at anyone and only turn off the safety when you're in mortal danger. good luck" and running off, but ALSO because 2. it's hot and 3. I'm fairly certain it's very illegal in the UK which I find hilarious

bonus point I think harry using muggle weapons is really compelling because it challenges the idea that these wizards are inherently more powerful than muggles which is important to remind their society of if they have any intention of continuing on with the statue of secrecy

It would also be interesting to explore the nature of guns as a uniquely muggle creation that is still illegal in muggle britain as a sort of parallel to Harry's own struggles. Growing up in the muggle world and not feeling like he belongs anywhere because of his abusive family that isolated him from any potential support system he could have had, but still understanding that muggles are not evil as a whole is similar to the concept of guns being illegal in his muggle country even though the weapon itself isn't actively evil or wrong (idk if I phrased that well might edit this bit later today)

Continuing on with the parallels between my weapon of choice for harry and his own history, Harry was abruptly introduced to the wizarding world and had his entire understanding of the world flipped on its head, and went to hogwarts without any real explanation with what was happening and had to pick things up as he went. This theme could be very gracefully continued by having Dumbledore once again putting harry into a dangerous position by giving him a very deadly weapon without much instruction on how to use it nor any reasoning for why he is bestowing it upon harry. NOT in a dumbles bashing way tho, but rather in a "I have no idea how to use this thing, neither does anyone else in this school, but it is probably going to be your only chance of surviving in this war when no wizard expects it. here is the most surface level safety information, it is all I know, I hope this is the right choice" kind of way.

it also ties in well with harry's guerilla fighting style; he can conceal it with minimal effort, reach it easily, and use it quickly, all without relying on physical strength but rather on quick strategic thinking and swift movements.

plus like can you imagine Harry managing to get the upper hand on Voldemort by shooting one of his legs out from under him, immobilizing him, and taunting him by getting up close and threatening to finally dish out the finishing blow, only for voldemort to bite the barrel like "shoot me, I dare you" I think that would be really cool/hot in equal measures

#harrymort #harry potter #voldemort #gun cw #gun tw #guns #hopefully that'll work for tag filtering #anywho am i right or am i right

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justsomerandomfanfic · 1 year

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I Just Want To Say...

THANK YOU to the fellow writers, creators, authors, and artists that are listed below! You guys have inspired me on so many levels! Your work, art, and fanfics always bring a smile to my face, I love reading them so much. I hope you guys keep creating more amazing works and continue to inspire and make others smile too! I'm rooting for all! And I can't wait to see what you all do next! - Chloe <3

I implore those who see this post, to check out these fabulous creators, give them love!

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@waitimcomingtoo - Works; Tom Holland, Spider-Man, The Devil All The Time, Brad Simpson, Stranger Things, Marvel, and Sebastian Stan (I am so impressed with all their work)

@tiffdawg - Works; The Mandalorian, Narcos, Triple Frontier, Kingsman, and more!

@queridopascal - Works; Narcos, Triple Frontier, Kingsman, The Mandalorian, The Equalizer, We Can Be Heroes, House Comes With A Bird, The Bubble, and more!

@oonajaeadira - Works; The Bubble, The Mandalorian, Prospect, Triple Frontier, Kingsman, Unbearable Weight Of Massive Talent, Narcos, The Last Of Us, Bloodsucking Bastards, House Comes With A Bird, Game Of Thrones, and more!

@fuckyeahdindjarin - Works; The Mandalorian, Narcos, Kingsman, Triple Frontier, The Bubble, and more!

@huffle-pissed - Works; Marvel, Pedro Pascal, Star Wars, Stranger Things, Supernatural, Harry Potter, and Dragon Age Inquisition

@brandyllyn - Works; Bloodsucking Bastards, Den Of Thieves, Ex Machina, The Great Wall, Hannibal, Horizon, Kingsman, Law And Order SVU, The Letter Room, Narcos, Mayans, Prospect, Star Wars, Suburbicon, and more!

@sgt-morgan - Works; The Mandalorian, Marvel, Hozier, Keanu Reeves, and more!

@tegerton - Taron Egerton, Eggsy Unwin, and Eddie The Eagle

@make-me-imagine - Works; Briderton, Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Criminal Minds, Doctor Who, The Mandalorian, The Originals, Merlin (BBC), Star Trek, Supernatural, Sherlock (BBC), Teen Wolf, Marvel, The Hobbit, Lord Of The Rings, Harry Potter, and more!

@iamnotoriginalphil - Works; Once Upon A Time, Ineffable Husbands, Merlin, and more!

@forever-rogue - Works; Stranger Things, Spider-Man, Star Wars, Pedro Pascal, The Mandalorian, The Last Of Us, Marvel, and more!

@companionjones - Works; DC, Criminal Minds, Doctor Who, Hamilton, High School Musical, Les Miserables, Marvel, Once Upon A Time, Star Trek, Star Wars, Twilight, Teen Wolf, Stranger Things, Starkid, Sherlock (BBC), Shameless (US), Victorious, and more!

@dainty-fingertips - Works; Marvel and Spider-Man

@zafirosreverie - Works; Encanto, Jurassic Park, Jurassic World, The Hobbit, Lord Of The Rings, MCu, Rise Of The Guardians, and more!

@jonathan--majors - Works; Better Call Saul, Bullet Train, DC, Marvel, Stranger Things, Top Gun, and more!

@ardentmuse - Works; Harry Potter, Kingsman, Marvel, Game Of Thrones, and more

@classic80sand90smovieloves2 - Works; Pretty In Pink, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Ferris Buellers Day Off, Heathers, Back To The Future, Say Anything, Can't Buy Me Love, Some Kind Of Wonderful, Dead Poets Society, School Ties, Grease, and more!

@livinglifelowkeyloki - Works; Marvel

#writers #authors #fanfics #fanfic writers #artist #comics #support #support your favorite writers #fanfiction

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jonathantaylorthomas · 1 year

Text

Afterward, he walked onto the empty floor of the arena, and I asked him about Swift’s cameo. “It was really based of Taylor to do the show,” he said, seeming a bit awed that it had happened. A fake set list was circulating on Twitter showing Harry Styles as the guest for that night’s performance. In the British press, Healy is sometimes positioned as Styles’s Wario, his evil twin. Their bands became popular around the same time; both men are straight-leaning but, like Mick Jagger and David Bowie before them, enjoy revelling in sexual ambiguity. Healy said the band had asked Styles to come. “He gave us a hard no,” he added, laughing. “He’s afraid that he would have to say something.” Healy found it annoying that, at a certain level of fame, celebrities can cultivate liberal auras while avoiding the risk of taking real political stands. (Swift, I thought, but didn’t say, seemed to be excepted from his critique.)

When I tell you I giggled 🤭

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heystephen · 1 year

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Ratty has been living a 1989 fan fic for 10 years 😂 the jalousy and obsession with HS is sending me!!

"Afterward, he walked onto the empty floor of the arena, and I asked him about Swift’s cameo. “It was really based of Taylor to do the show,” he said, seeming a bit awed that it had happened. A fake set list was circulating on Twitter showing Harry Styles as the guest for that night’s performance. In the British press, Healy is sometimes positioned as Styles’s Wario, his evil twin. Their bands became popular around the same time; both men are straight-leaning but, like Mick Jagger and David Bowie before them, enjoy revelling in sexual ambiguity. Healy said the band had asked Styles to come. “He gave us a hard no,” he added, laughing. “He’s afraid that he would have to say something.” Healy found it annoying that, at a certain level of fame, celebrities can cultivate liberal auras while avoiding the risk of taking real political stands. (Swift, I thought, but didn’t say, seemed to be excepted from his critique.)"

I don't think is wrong about celebrities politics there but man that inclued Taylor in many ways. None of what he's saying makes her looks good this last line is... Yeah 😵‍💫

slightly unrelated but what is this guy’s obsession with insulting ppl who actually like his band. like it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why harry styles wouldn’t want to do their show when he’s been on tour for like, what feels like 10 years. but no yeah that last part is soooo ironic considering.. 🤔

#i got mail*#anonymous

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fiction-justanotherstateofmind · 1 year

Text

Here I'll write the comments as I watch the new Teen Wolf movie, so SPOILERS!!

SPOILER

1) WTF! Why would you keep a evil spirit IN A RESTAURANT?! Easily accessible to anyone. And what if you open the wrong jar while cooking?!

Unbelievable.

2) All the Scott's first scene... kinda cringe

3) I'm not gonna lie, I missed the intro song 🎶

4) I've never heard Deaton speak so much (and for my Italian friends: lo vedo un po' sciupato)

5) Derek, my beautiful love! And hello, Stiles and Derek's son (called like Stiles' grandfather, Elias. iykyk)

6) Why do they talk about the Nemeton like they don't know it?

7) I love Derek as a dad. My heart is melting.

8) Parrish and Malia don't make any sense.

Update from the end of the movie. Ok, I kinda like them, but they still don't make any sense.

9) Apparently Deaton can fight now. Plus every time I see the nogitsune all I can see is this:

10) For a moment I thought I was watching the Winx... I guess some things never change. I surely didn't miss the bad special effects.

And why does everyone needs to be naked??

11) OMG!!! VICTORIAAA. This woman scares me even now

12) I've always dislike Allison, now even more: my poor poor Derek! 😭

Ok no, false alarm, but I don't change my opinion.

I really love Dad Derek btw.

13) I missed Peter and Chirs together. My other ship

14) Scott to Eli: "Find your dad". What if instead you tell him where his dad is too, since you do know Derek is at home but Eli doesn't *facepalm pt.2*

15) The parallel between Dark Allison and Scott and Dark Allison and her killing spree against my precious Erica and Boyd. YOU SEE WHY I DON'T LIKE HER?! (She didn't even say sorry for that btw)

16) The Sheriff killing Oni while sitting on the couch is on another level

17) Derek dies pt.2 (my heart can't take it anymore)

18) What?! Why, tell me why did you run against theirs swords. You literally killed yourself, Eli. *facepalm pt.3*

19) Peter, that was cringe af. And Chris wdym with 8 hours at most when we know from the show that it takes about 24h before the death?? Omg I can't with this movie

20) And now why do they care about the game? Hello, your father's going to die, Eli!!

21) Oh, she's really doing it. I didn't expect it (Allison shooting at Scott)

22) Ouch, that must hurt (Nogitsune with a new hole in the middle of his forehead)

23) I missed Chris and Peter's duo, but please give me back Peter's old hair style, this one is a death crime

24) Jackson my beautiful little lizard. I've always loved you ♡

25) How disgusting! It's like Rufus (from Kim Possible) became the Darach:

Do you se the resemblance too? Unfortunately I don't have a photo of the nogitsune unmummified.

26) The scene is kinda cheap but gods if I missed them

27) Why are Derek's eyes blue?? They were yellow again after the the Mexican fountain of youth

Update: nevermind. They reminded me that after Derek evolves his eyes go back to blue.

28) Can anyone stay dead in this city?? Harris too, come on!

29) You're giving your son TO SCOTT?? Are you serious, Derek?? It's like a big child, he can't take care of Eli. If Stiles was there, he would tell you the same (but if Stiles was there, Eli would be with his other dad -Stiles- so Scott wouldn't be even an option but I stand for my objection)

30) HIS EYES!! HIS EYES TURNED RED LIKE A TRUE ALPHA (btw, Derek, you've always been the alpha to me)

31) They've vanished. No corpse no death. And even then, we're in Beacon Hills so what is one more resurrection, right? Right??

32) SCOTT, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!! YOU'RE IN YOUR 30s, ALLISON IS STILL 16/17!

And why are you kissing anyway! Derek's dead*! (*to them, 'cause in reality Derek's alive, safe and sound. I know it)

33) Excuse me, can I see at least one tear for Derek Sourwolf Hale, please? Are y'all being serious? Scott is almost smiling!!

Also, they had a funeral for Derek but didn't invite Cora, his sisters... they didn't even tell Isaac that Allison is alive (you know, Allison, your boyfriend. I know you kinda forgot him even when you were dying but if you remember everything then Isaac is supposed to be in that everything too). They didn't even call Stiles!

35) Why does it seem that when the Sheriff was talking about the jeep he was actually talking about Stiles and Derek (or sterek as a ship/concept). No matter what, we sterek shipper will stand. Always and forever.

Final thoughts

I thought worse but at the same time it felt rush. I wanted to see more Eli and Malia bonding. Also the way the Sheriff cares about Eli it seems more like a grandfather to a grandson (if you know what I mean) but we couldn't really see that. And can we talk about Derek and Noah (John for the friends)'s partnership? Or how Derek speaks about Stiles with Noah as he's still in touch with him??

And where is Eli come from anyway?! Are we finally normalize mpreg?

Final final thoughts

I didn't like this movie. It was like a big bad Scallison fanfiction found on wattpad (ao3 is better). A lot of things were forgotten and other changed.

BUT

There's always a but (as in the Derek's "death" *wink wink*).

This movie gave us a lot of sterek material.

I'm afraid of what Jeff Davis' mind could possibly come with for another movie, probably more about Eli's past which means a mother for sure (unfortunately the world isn't ready for mpreg yet I'm afraid) and less sterek material. But at the same time I want to see Derek alive again, I want to see how they would manage with two true alpha and how Derek and Eli's relationship would evolve.

I want a lot of things to see but I'm afraid they won't give me any of them, so I can't decide either I want another movie or not.

What do you think?

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #derek hale #sterek #stiles x derek #gif #dylan o'brien #teen wolf movie #teen wolf the movie #scallison #teen wolf movie reaction #derek is alive I know it #werewolves #werewolf #elihale #eli is stiles and derek's son

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justforbooks · 1 year

Photo

The actor Lance Reddick, who has died suddenly aged 60, played figures of authority with such panache that no matter how many times he was handed such roles, he never seemed typecast. He is best known on film for his part as Charon, the all-seeing fixer in the John Wick movie franchise, but his image was forged playing two ambitious high-level cops on television, Cedric Daniels in The Wire (2002-08) and Irvin Irving in Bosch (2014-21).

In each case he was contrasted with a main character: his anguish at the plight of Baltimore as portrayed in The Wire was expressed with internal restraint, opposed to the knee-jerk reactions of Dominic West’s chronic screw-up, McNulty. In Bosch, he was the politician tormented by Titus Welliver’s relentlessly uncompromising Harry Bosch.

Bosch author Michael Connelly said Reddick “took a character who was paper-thin in the books and made Irvin Irving”. He used his tall, angular frame to express authority; moving his body precisely, deliberately stiff and controlled, his face echoing that pose, covering up the machinations inside his head. Audiences watched as he took in, contemplated, and finally reacted, in a voice pitched with the deep tone of authority. His work in Bosch’s second season, where the death of his undercover cop son opens huge cracks in his closely controlled persona and makes him the centre of the show, is a lesson in transcending ensemble play.

Reddick’s highlights in variations of authority-figure themes came in the TV series Fringe (2008-13), running a unit of Homeland Security; Corporate (2018-20), as a CEO; and Intelligence (2014), where he was head of the CIA. On film he was head of the secret service in Angel Has Fallen (2019), and he played Albert Wesker, boss of the Raccoon Police special tactics unit, in the Netflix TV adaptation of the zombie video game Resident Evil (2022).

He was so good that the star of Wick, Keanu Reeves, given a day off from shooting for his birthday, told his girlfriend he wanted to visit the set, just to watch Reddick in action. Reeves then handed him a note thanking him for “what he brought to the character of Charon”.

Bosch also afforded Reddick the chance to play the piano, thoughtfully improvising at home as if to sort out his thoughts; this might be seen to reflect his own hard path to acting success. Reddick was born in Baltimore to Solomon, a lawyer, and Dorothy (nee Gee), a teacher. His musical talent was apparent at Friends School of Baltimore, and he went on to study at the city’s Peabody Institute, a secondary school specialising in the performing arts. He took a degree in composition at the University of Rochester’s Eastman School of Music and moved to Boston, intending, in his words, to become a rock star.

But his style of music, influenced by Miles Davis and Sting, never fitted a rock star template, and having married his college sweetheart, Suzanne Louis, in 1986, and had two children, he found himself working odd jobs, including as a singing waiter on a riverboat. Crucially, on a night shift at a newspaper delivery depot, he injured his back shifting bundles of papers. Forced to lie in bed, he contemplated how he could support his family, and decided to turn to acting, where he noticed there were more auditions available.

He wound up gaining a master of fine arts degree at Yale Drama School in 1994, and two years later landed his first television role, on New York Undercover; he debuted on-screen in 1998’s ill-judged modern-set Great Expectations.

In 2000 he was cast in David Simon’s The Corner, which led to his part on The Wire, while he also attracted attention with a memorable role as an undercover police officer gone bad in the prison drama Oz (2000-01). Recurring parts in CSI:Miami (2005-06) and Lost (2008-09) followed, and he played James Baldwin in the 2004 movie Brother to Brother. He was the voice of the Falcon in the animated Avengers (2012), and of the villain Ras Al Ghul in Beware the Batman (2013), as well as voicing Commander Zavala in the Destiny video game series, and Sylens in Horizon Zero Dawn (2017) and Horizon Forbidden West (2022).

Along the way he finally got to be a rock star, playing a cop in the music video of Jay-Z and Beyoncé’s ’03 Bonnie & Clyde. In 2007 he released an album of his own music, Contemplations and Remembrances.

John Wick 4 has just been released, and he also leaves behind a store of work that has yet to be seen. Reddick will appear in a remake of White Men Can’t Jump; as Charon in a Wick spin-off, Ballerina; in the Shirley Chisholm biopic, Shirley, and as Capt Blakely in The Caine Mutiny Court-Martial. He also voiced the ultimate authority figure, Zeus, in Percy Jackson and the Olympians for Disney+.

Reddick is survived by his second wife, Stephanie (nee Day), whom he married in 2011, and the two children, Yvonne and Christopher, from his first marriage, which ended in divorce.

🔔 Lance Solomon Reddick, actor, born 7 June 1962; died 17 March 2023

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at http://justforbooks.tumblr.com

#JUST FOR BOOKS #Lance Solomon Reddick #in memoriam

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prohaloplayer · 1 year

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Harry styles is just like a nice dude I think. Like normal human level of nice and has managed to hold onto that even while being surrounded by devils so they’re like damn dude I’ll do it for you harry sure because he’s not as corrupt and evil as every other guy in the industry like he’s just doing the bare minimum of being a nice bloke and music/movie execs are like I really just like this guy there’s just something about him. Plus he’s got all the garenteed fans from 1D that will buy any+everything he farts or poops

harry i know it's you

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saintsenara · 2 months

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I love your takes on different ships, they are both hilarious and oddly insightful.

my contribution to the asks: grindeldore, snape/aberforth, orion/walburga, sirius/peter, albus/minerva, harry/dumbledore

thank you very much, anon. "oddly insightful" is my middle name.

grindledore

so, this needs to be prefaced by me saying that i've never seen any of the fantastic beasts films and that i've gone out of my way to forget everything i've ever learned about any of them.

but i love the little flashes of grindledore we get in canon. the image of the owls flying back and forth at all hours of the night because they can't bear not to be talking to each other is one of the most romantic things which happens in the series, and i adore the complexity that the memory of grindlewald brings to dumbledore's character [especially the way it informs his thinking on love, desire, sacrifice, atonement and so on - all themes which are throughlines in the series in the way he and he alone thinks they should be].

and obviously, as a committed riddledore girly, it aligns extremely well with my interests that dumbledore is canonically ready to risk it all for an evil twink.

aberforth dumbledore/severus snape

i'm afraid that aberforth/goat is the one canon ship i can never accept seeing broken up.

orion black/walburga black

i find orion and walburga's relationship interesting so long as its written as paternalistic and sexless, maxim and the second mrs dewinter style. i have a very low tolerance for "the black family are all hot and sexy because arisocrats are hot and sexy" because it's dull.

sirius black/peter pettigrew

i am obsessed with the mingled contempt and respect sirius has for peter in canon, and i find the idea of him being an extremely toxic boyfriend to someone he thinks is beneath him, while that man is instead seeking to bring about his total destruction very compelling indeed.

albus dumbledore/minerva mcgonagall

i have an enormous fondness for albumin - or whatever we used to call it - because it feels so retro. it was obviously the big dumbledore ship prior to the grindledore reveal in deathly hallows, and you can see why - mcgonagall clearly adores dumbledore, and his respect for her [while it looks much less sincere in the light of all the secrets we now know he was keeping in the first six books] is also palpable. but i also think it can be filled in really nicely with the details we have about the two from deathly hallows and post-series information. their shared grief [and the complex relationship both have with the intersection of desire and loss], their similarly ivory-towerish demeanours, their extremely flawed understanding of what is an appropriate way to run a school, and so on are all really enjoyable things to explore and i back it.

harrydore

i back anyone writing this with the canonical age gap, because that level of derangement is simply too powerful. i back anyone writing it as a time-travel ship less, because without that wild level of derangement i don't think dumbledore's into harry. because of the evil twink preference discussed above.

#asks answered #asenora's opinions on ships #grindledore #and others #some of which are #unhinged and deranged ships

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masterwords · 1 year

Text

chill out

Summary: Derek and a friend make some pot brownies to help chill Hotch out. (Post Route-66)

Pairing: Hotch/Morgan

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: a lot of talk about marijuana, grief, pain, doctors

Notes: Is this a crack-fic? I dunno. Maybe. The idea started with the @yearoftheotpevent February prompts "established relationship" and "different"...and kind of spiraled from there with a lot of help from Harry Styles. If you haven't read prior stories involving my delightful (slightly evil) OC Coleen, here is a bit of history: the high price of shame

The house, modest from the outside, was nothing like Derek expected as he approached. Its bones screamed mid-century rancher, single level, low ceilings. But from the moment he was in the entryway, he realized how wrong he was. The hallway, beset with a hanging lamp in shades of deep brown and gold, opened up into a sunken great room with a vaulted ceiling and a wall of windows overlooking the city, at least once you got past the sizable estate that stretched out emerald green for ages. David Rossi might even be impressed with this.

"You live in a house..." he mused, stepping down into the main area and peering around at all of the impeccable mid-century details that would have made Carol Brady's knees buckle from sheer joy. He grew up fantasizing about houses like this as he wandered through his modest inner-city Chicago home with neighbors close enough to hear your dinner prayers unless you whispered. This was the stuff of sitcom families, well-to-do but parading as somehow being middle class. His socked feet sunk deep in the burnt orange shag carpet that didn't look a day past being straight from the showroom and yet he couldn't think of a single place you'd get something like this nowadays. And he'd looked, too, for one of his properties that had bones like this. No, this was original. "Where do you want these?" He gestured to the grocery bags in his arms full of all sorts of baking supplies and a bottle of wine for good measure. With a sneer she gestured toward the kitchen.

The kitchen. He'd always loved to picture his mom in a kitchen like this, a kitchen like she deserved. Throwing together a pot of chili or a peach cobbler with counters stretching as far as the eye could see. More cupboards than you could ever fill. Hell, he would have settled for a dishwasher or a sink that didn't back up once a week though. Probably Coleen wasn't as well-acquainted with a plunger as Fran Morgan had been.

"Not what I pictured..." he said, finally, setting the bags down and emptying them on the counters. Coleen snorted at his candor.

"What did you expect?”

“Always had you pegged for someone who lives in a cave. You know, big bubblin' cauldron over open flames...some ancient book of spells on display, eye of newt and some gnawed on bones...a raven or some shit boppin' around...that sort of thing.” He spent too much time with Spencer, being able to pull all of that out of thin air. He really needed to find new friends. Or introduce Coleen and Spencer, perhaps...let him off the hook.

“Us modern witches keep all of that in the basement."

He smiled at that and shook his head, admiring the carpentry of the cupboards while she sorted the groceries and made sure he brought exactly what she'd asked. “You didn't bring Aaron.”

“He's sleeping. Lazy bones.” The last bit Derek said softly, and it was her turn to smile. Derek, for all of his biting jokes at her expense and excess nervous energy over this undertaking, adored Hotch. Which was why he was there in the first place. The two of them were otherwise not frequently able to find much common ground. She reminded him of George Burns playing God, or the Devil, maybe both and she left him feeling ill at ease. In turn, all of Derek's sunshine made her uncomfortable. It wasn't that they didn't care for each other, but without Hotch being present they quickly found that they had little in common.

Until Derek mentioned Hotch's heightened stress and anxiety, his return to work taking more out of him than they'd anticipated. Of course, Derek had tried to talk him into taking a full six weeks of leave but that had been vetoed quickly. As soon as he was able to fake his way through a fitness for duty exam, he was back. Add to that the ongoing situation with Sean's sentencing and it had become something of a perfect storm. He hadn't ever been very good at relaxing, but it seemed that now he couldn't even begin to figure out how...and each doctor's visit ended the same way. Find a way to lower your stress or you're going to end up back in the hospital. Or worse.

Well, Coleen understood worse. She'd lost a husband to that. Maybe her favorite one. So, when she approached Derek quietly while Hotch showered after physical therapy and told him she had just the thing, he couldn't say no. He knew what it meant; he'd heard all of her tall tales and her interesting medical theories. He also knew it came from a place of love, and he had started feeling bleak about the whole situation. He probably would have tried anything, so really, this was fairly benign.

Just some hash brownies. Besides, the woman was ancient...she had to be doing something right.

Derek had intended to bring Hotch along, figuring a visit might do him some good. But after a morning spent at physical therapy and then breakfast with some of the ladies at a chic little cafe afterward, he could scarcely keep his eyes open let alone stay upright. Derek insisted he be home and sleep. With Jack being out of town with Jessica's side of the family for the whole weekend the house was blissfully quiet. Just Hotch and Clooney, two old men and their favorite blankets in an empty house.

“He did great in the pool this morning,” Coleen said, tapping an egg on the rim of a bowl with one manicured claw. Her red nail polish was the color of blood. “Haven't seen him so spry in a long while now.”

“It's coming back slowly.”

“He's old, let the poor creature take his time.” She took a drag on the joint she'd lit without him even realizing it, holding it tenderly between steady gnarled fingers. Did she just roll it? Did she have it in her pocket? It was like magic, the way it appeared out of nowhere.

Derek didn't like the sound of healing slowly, but he had no control over what she said nor how Hotch healed. He had no control over anything much these days.

“You'll want to watch me make these, dummy,” she said, snapping Derek from his spiraling thoughts. “I refuse to write it down for you. This recipe dies with me.” She offered him the joint with a caustic, dangerous smile. He would take it, just a little, just for now. You can't make brownies like this without being a little high right?

“I wouldn't be able to read it anyway,” he croaked, leaning over her shoulder expectantly while he locked the burning lemony smoke deep in his lungs. She was so tiny, a little bag of bones, it didn't take much for him to completely engulf her. She didn't seem to mind. “I can't read Latin.”

Coleen smirked and whisked the eggs and sugar together, the yellow bowl huge in her thin little arms. “I in malam crucem.”

“Whatever you say, lady.” He didn't really want to know what she said, but he could probably ask Reid later to give him the cliff's notes version. He knew it was nothing good, probably the Latin equivalent of go fuck yourself. Frowning, Derek moved to examine the ingredients on the counter that he hadn't brought, the key component being a brick of hash the likes of which he hadn't seen since his beat cop days. “What about the leeches? Thought all you old timers used 'em.”

“What in the heavens would he need those for?" She paused for effect before continuing. "The leeches are mine. How do you think I've managed to maintain my youthful glow all these years?”

“Sorta figured you for a bathing in the blood of your enemies type.”

Coleen sniffed indignantly and turned away from Derek to reach up into her cupboard for a small glass jar way in the back. The kind she had to shoo other things out of the way of before her claws could grip and pull. It was a jar of what looked like some kind of honey, thick and dark and odorous. God, the things he could say about that, how putrid and horrific it looked, but he kept his mouth shut.

“I'm moving this as soon as you're gone, so don't go getting any ideas.” She smirked and Derek rolled his eyes dramatically. He didn't even really know what it was except that it looked potent and a little scary...he had only enough experience with marijuana to have enjoyed it a few times in college after he blew out his knee and had to recalibrate his entire life's trajectory. He'd gone off the deep end for a short time before pulling himself together. It was a rough time, one that didn't garner him much favor in his mom's eyes. Of course, his time as a cop (and now this) showed him that what he'd considered the deep end was nothing but a shallow and tepid kiddie pool. From what Hotch has divulged of his own troubled youth, he had far more experience with the stuff (and possibly worse, though he'd spared Derek any specifics), and a lot more hate than love in that old relationship. All in all, this had been a hard sell.

“I work for the government. You think I don't know all the best places to get this shit? Come off it. You're gonna have to produce a lot more than that to shock and amaze me, Methuselah. Now show me how to make these brownies before he wakes up from his nap and I'm not home.”

They quieted after that, the snips and snaps dying down while Coleen shared with him a recipe that she'd held close to her for decades. Her sister had asked for it once and, though Coleen wasn't exactly beaming with pride over her response, she'd more or less said over my dead body. Of course, her sister having been dipped in the same scalding solution of genetics as Coleen herself said she could arrange that and though Coleen couldn't prove it she thought maybe she'd tried once or twice over the years. And good for her, too.

If she knew how readily Coleen was willing to give it up for that sack of bones snoring beside a german shepherd across town, her sister would have a few harsh words to say. The thing was, she was soft for Hotch and she simply couldn't help herself. Maybe he reminded her of her favorite ex-husband, the damn fool who went and died on her long before she was ready for him to be gone. Who bought her flowers and saw to her every need, with never a cross word. Who spoke gently in direct opposition with his size and intimidating demeanor. He was an accountant, a big burly man who had to have his suits custom made, who captured spiders beneath glasses and released them out the backdoor rather than smashing them. A gentle giant.

She wouldn't admit it, but she was soft for Derek too. And the minute they came into her life, she was theirs. Hotch and his unruly black hair pushed up in tufts, walking slowly with his hand pressed against his scarred stomach like he was holding his insides where they belonged. Considering how often they'd nearly been spilled; she couldn't blame him. He approached the pool apprehensively, studying his options, looking for the path of least resistance. She could tell he wasn't someone who was used to obstacles in his way, and when they appeared they weren't there for long. She'd almost slithered from her side of the pool to him, to offer to help, but there was Derek coming up behind him from out of nowhere, hand on his hip...he didn't really do anything, she had noted. He just offered support. Hotch set his features and gripped the metal railing, leaning heavily against it while he stepped one foot after another into the pool and she caught that little slip of a smile when his body was weightless and in his control again.

Yeah, she liked him. A lot. And she had a feeling a lot of people behaved similarly to that...he was frustratingly endearing and handsome to boot. A combination she'd never been able to resist. Besides, how else would a scowling curmudgeon like him have landed this hunk of chiseled marble standing in her kitchen, zipping up his worn-out old motorcycle boots? She could think of a thousand more fun things a ball of energy and stamina like this could have been doing with his Saturday morning, and he was here learning how to make brownies from an old lady. Hook line and sinker.

“Take this,” she finished, snapping a thick layer of plastic around the little pink tupperware of perfectly cut brownies. “And this.” She handed him a log of what looked like frozen chocolate chip cookie dough. “Just slice off enough for one at a time, it'll keep for months in the freezer. For desperate times.” She winked at him.

“Thank you,” he replied sincerely, not a hint of his usual sarcasm. “Really appreciate it.”

(x)

“You two conspired to drug me?” Hotch asked, wrinkling his nose at the tub of brownies on the counter. He knew even before asking what they were, the smell was that strong. He hadn't woken up from his nap long before Derek walked in. Still groggy, he wasn't sure he had the capacity to make a good decision here.

“To help you.”

“Right.” Hotch sighed, lifting the little tub and turning his face away as the smell smacked him right in every one of his senses. “Wow. Did you use Willie Nelson's recipe?”

“Funny you mention Willie. She said he actually uses her recipe. Guess one of her ex-husbands was some old Hollywood bigwig type and they had this party at their place and...”

Hotch was blinking slowly, staring at Derek with a look of utter confusion on his still exhausted face. “Who are you?”

“Hey. She's your friend.” As if that answered for all the rest of it, Derek huffed and popped open the container. Hotch nearly gagged on the smell. “Come on. You've been a huge stress monster and your doc said he'd give you a medical green card to help with the stomach pain anyway. We gotta find you a way to relax before your heart pops like a fuckin' water balloon, baby. Give it a shot?”

“Define a shot.”

“One bite. They're gonna be really damn strong, I don't think you could handle more than a corner...”

Derek extended what was more or less a glorified crumb, the corner of one thick dark brownie broken off. It was crusty and smelled absolutely green in spite of the deep, dark chocolate color. He hesitated.

“And if I hate it?”

“I got orange juice in the fridge, that'll take the edge off if it's bad. And I'm gonna be right here stone cold sober the whole time. We can go take a shower, lay in bed, sleep it off. You trust me?”

Hotch frowned, but took the bit of brownie between his finger and thumb anyway. “Implicitly.” He looked doubtful but he meant what he said. He trusted Derek with his life and, though the brownies looked and smelled dubious, he wouldn't start faltering now.

With one last worried glance at Derek, a chance to tell him to stop, he popped the bite into his mouth and washed down the foul flavor with a glass of water, shaking his head. “Disgusting.”

“I don't think the flavor is supposed to be its selling point.”

It wasn't. Not by a longshot. They wouldn't be winning any county fair awards unless the judges were looking for the best and fastest high...then it was a blue-ribbon recipe. It didn't take long before Hotch was melting into the couch, his entire body languorous and vibrating at a slow, steady rhythm set by the pumping of his heart. The ache in his chest that had been there weeks now, since before he collapsed in the conference room, dissipated gradually. It didn't quite vanish, but it moved around, seeping into quiet places where it could rest.

Clooney began sniffing around in the kitchen, ill at ease with a familiar old smell he was trained to detect which struck Hotch in such a silly incongruous way that he let out a little chuckle. That chuckle, from deep inside his chest, grew in strength until Derek noticed and smiled in return. He'd been busying himself with some case files, hoping that Hotch would just ease himself into oblivion happily and without his constant vigil. That would only make him nervous and question every tingle, every wave. Probably set off a panic attack. This way he just rode the surf on his own.

“What's so funny ya old geezer?” He plopped down beside Hotch, wishing he could enjoy some of the brownie himself. It was so tempting. But he'd promised...not this time. Not until they knew if it was going to be okay. Coleen had warned him that she was making them half strength but it would still be potent and had the potential to expose some nervousness that even Hotch's vault kept locked up tight. Some latent paranoia, or disastrous memories of he and Haley...or maybe something worse. Something he couldn't even put his finger on. That fear had crept up on him the first time he got high, the thought that it might unlock memories of his own childhood, the crystal clear night sky over a dark cabin...if Hotch kept anything like that locked up, he'd rather it stay that way. The threat loomed dangerously over his head but was assuaged by the gentle laughter he heard coming from the couch.

Now he just wanted to join him. Be in that delicate, happy place with him.

Hotch licked his dry lips and let his eyes close for a moment while he lazily sorted through his word bank. It had been a long time since he'd been high and even longer since he'd enjoyed it. This was such a strange mellow feeling, warmth spreading like musical notes through his sinew.

“Clooney,” he started, smiling. “He's sniffing out your supply Agent Morgan.”

Derek laughed and made a high-pitched whistling noise, drawing Clooney's attention to him immediately. “Forget it buddy. Lay off my stash.”

Clooney's tail wagged and he nosed at the counter, right below the offending Tupperware. Dog hadn't been with the Chicago PD for years now, but his training was solid, not easily forgotten. Old dog and his old tricks. “Busted...” Hotch whispered, leaning against Derek.

First Hotch just sat there, quiet, still as a mouse. Staring at the ceiling, and then at the television that was turned off, zoning out. Derek wondered what he was thinking but was too afraid to ask. After a while, he spoke softly of small things. What would Jack think about his dad being high as a kite? Would he try to steal the brownies? Would the team know what he was doing? What if he got drug tested?

“Green card,” Derek reminded him thoughtfully. “Your doc's already got it in the works. I don't think there's a single person that's gonna mistake you for a burn out. Stop trying to find ways to let your anxiety creep back in...”

“Maybe you could turn on some music?”

“Yeah. I could do that. Any requests?”

Hotch shook his head and let the smile smooth out his features again. “Surprise me.”

Flipping through records, some crisp and new still in the plastic and others worn soft at the corners and smelling like the dust of decades gone by, Derek settled somewhere between his taste and Hotch's. The opening notes, deep and broody, made him long for a nibble. Just a corner. He wanted to feel what Hotch was feeling, he wanted it so badly.

“You think you're gonna be good to ride this out?”

Hotch laughed a little in spite of himself. “Why? You want to join me?”

“I doooooooo...” Derek whined. “I really really do.”

“You don't have a green card,” Hotch said, his tone a gentle mockery of something serious. He didn't pull it off well, not when his entire body was melting into the couch cushions while Jim Morrison's voice slithered and slunk through the room all heady and dark. “What if your boss finds out?”

“He's a pushover. Kinda think he's a burnout, too.”

A kiss, quick and soft, took Hotch by surprise. Made him grab hold, fists twisted in Derek's t-shirt, holding on for dear life. He just wanted more of that. His eyes went wide at the sudden bright burst of expectation. They hadn't had much of a sex life lately, and the feel of Derek's breath rushing over his skin startled him in all the best ways. Maybe Derek having a little bite wouldn't be the worst thing in the world...might make it easier to drag him into the bedroom to mess around for a while without Derek stressing out over hurting him. After they got some food, though. He was starving. “One bite. This stuff could likely knock both Willie Nelson and Snoop Dogg out.”

“What, just cos it knocked you on your ass? I'll be the judge of that...” Derek announced striding confidently into the kitchen, but he was good.

Only a bite.

For now.

They had all weekend.

#aaron hotchner #derek morgan #clooney the dog #hotchgan #hotch x morgan #tw: marijuana #yotp 2023 #criminal minds #fanfiction

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meaningtotellyou · 1 year

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Re Harry Anon. Oh i remember and Matty just has to mention it again apparently 🙄

"he walked onto the empty floor of the arena, and I asked him about Swift’s cameo. “It was really based of Taylor to do the show,” he said, seeming a bit awed that it had happened. A fake set list was circulating on Twitter showing Harry Styles as the guest for that night’s performance. In the British press, Healy is sometimes positioned as Styles’s Wario, his evil twin. Their bands became popular around the same time; both men are straight-leaning but, like Mick Jagger and David Bowie before them, enjoy revelling in sexual ambiguity. Healy said the band had asked Styles to come. “He gave us a hard no,” he added, laughing. “He’s afraid that he would have to say something.” Healy found it annoying that, at a certain level of fame, celebrities can cultivate liberal auras while avoiding the risk of taking real political stands. (Swift, I thought, but didn’t say, seemed to be excepted from his critique.)"

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whetstonefires · 1 year

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oh sorry for sending you down a random and inane internet rabbit hole that's what i get for speed typing on a tiny iphone screen and just sending it without checking lol. i think i mean to write what if instead of the batman 2022 it was the owlman 2022 movie. because i think pattinson could play a very scary villain if they gave him the material.

🤣 ahahaha oh, I see!

okay, then...i think an owlman movie in the style of the batman 2022 could be great, that is fun, but crucially i would want it made in the context of battinson already existing.

mirror universe rpatz, just taking his already hingeless and vaguely stunted yet deeply sincere portrayal of the character and upping it to true detached-door levels.

since the official position is to not have owlman be mirror bruce, but his brother thomas jr, they obviously would never make this, even leaving budget considerations aside.

but there just haven't been enough owlmans for batman 2022's specific treatment of the material to work as a dialogue in the same way, so i think it could only really land if it was done as a dialogue with their own, existing film.

so then, what would an owlman launching from the world established in the battinson film want? he believes all the worst things about his father, i guess. he believes all the worst things about everything and thinks it makes him rational and clear-eyed; he's got to be the most self-congratulatory cynic ever, and also walk around in a bird hat in total seriousness.

he's out to master the Gotham underworld and also control its politics. you could do something with his owning the mayor?

or with a contrast to battinson's hatred of being in public etc where owlman is the one running for mayor?

if we pursue the themes around Riddler in that movie, battinson owlman probably encourages the bitterness and disillusionment of The Youth and their radicalization, and takes advantage of it to turn them into weapons against society. very modern and yet utterly traditional!

idk, owlman is a hard villain protagonist to work with imo, because he's such a control freak and so selfish you need a big external problem to get any story out of him. absent the 'thomas jr vs police commissioner thomas dad' drama at least, which is hacky but hey it's comics ig. otherwise he just keeps chugging along doing evil, unless you want to chase down the nietzche multiverse breakdown from the Crisis on Two Earths or something.

i'd want to pitch a version of jokester at him to get some dynamism in there, but realistically then i'm just using battinson as a set of action figures to play out my fanfic lmao.

robert patttinson could certainly do a good villain, in that he seems to revel in the camp end of melodrama without checking out on acting while doing so, and also he has the capacity to be quite threatening because he's demonstrated that he can go ham while maintaining character. which is not actually easy to do.

but i'm not sure how well drawing the audience's attention to the fundamental idiocy of owlman as a concept would work when he's not uh. very lovable. because battinson works because he attracts our derision and our affection simultaneously, you know?

and i've never seen pattinson play anything he wasn't making fun of--i've only seen snippets of him as cullen, come to think of it, and if i saw the fourth harry potter movie i formed no memories, but anyway.

mostly what i'm coming away with here is i'm now curious to see what pattinson would do with an actual serious dramatic role. which is not how i would describe owlman.

#ask #hoc est meum #Anonymous #owlman #battinson #hypothetical films #unsure to what degree contempt upon the world is pattinson's actual baseline setting #and to what degree he plays it up because it's his brand #but it's definitely not all fake so idk how much he can turn it off?#would be interesting to see #but i appreciate that for all it harnesses the energy of irony poisoning batman 2022 is a pretty sincere film #and you can't really capture that balance with a villain movie in the same way #...i'm thinking maybe owlman dies at the end #batman #i guess #it feels off to have the owlman movie be a refutation of owlman #but i can't imagine what else it would be

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