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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

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Tattoos II

Mapi Leon x Ingrid Engen x Child!Reader

Summary: Mamí has pens now

You break into the box of Mamí's skin pens that night.

It was very fun to draw all over her arms like how she was drawing over Tia Alexia's. The little pictures on her arms are very fun and Mamí's even got your name written there too because she loves you so much.

Mamí always says that you're a little artist because all of your artwork gets hung up on the fridge at home. When you draw, Mamí says that it's abstract because you always tell her that you like to draw your feelings and Mamí says that's a very good habit to have for an artist.

You think Mamí's an artist too but a different kind of artist to you. She does art on people's bodies instead of on a canvas. It must be fun for her, you think, which is why you're pressing the pen to your own skin to see if it's fun for you too.

Mamí is outside the hotel room talking to Tia Patri and Pina while Mumma is in the bathroom, on an adult call with her parents.

That gives you enough time to grab the pens and start drawing on yourself.

They're a little ticklish but you mix a few of the colours together to reflect your feelings and try to draw a picture of Bagheera too.

"Oh, teeny," Mamí chuckles when she comes back into the room," Did you get into my pens again?"

It's a fairly adorable sight. You're sitting on the floor with your tongue poking out of your mouth as you run the yellow pen up and down your arm as Mapi catches sight of a black blob that was clearly your impression of Bagheera.

"Like you," You grunt as you drop the pen and reach for another one.

Mapi intercepts you before you can, pulling you into her lap and reaching down to put all the caps back onto the pens again. "Like me? Like my tattoos?"

You nod, trying to reach for the pens again.

"How about I do them?" Mapi asks," And then we can compare styles?"

You nod at that too, suddenly excited. At home, Mamí likes to sit with you at the kitchen table and draw together before swapping pictures.

The pens are still ticklish even though Mamí's using them and it brings a big smile to your face as the nibs run over your skin.

Mumma comes back out through the bathroom, shaking her head in amusement at her phone. She looks up at you and Mamí and her smile gets even wider.

"Look at you!" She laughs.

"Like Mamí!" You say proudly, looking down at your arms and then back at Mumma again.

"I can see that. You're just like your Mamí."

That makes you feel very good and the sunshine yellow you already put on your arm reflects that.

"That washes off, right?" Mumma asks Mamí, giving her one of the looks that she gives her when she forgets to put your clothes in the laundry after a bath," And it's not going to stain?"

"It definitely washes off," Mamí says, switching colours to add the finishing touches.

"And the staining?"

Mamí stays silent for a little bit. "Only a little? It's barely even noticeable!"

Mumma sighs, massaging her temples like she did that time Tia Patri and Pina babysat you and she came home to them passed out asleep on the floor and the kitchen covered in flour.

"If anyone makes reference to it tomorrow," Mumma says in a tone that means she's being very serious," Then you're in trouble."

You frown. "Me?"

Mamí laughs. "No, teeny, your Mumma means me."

You think for a moment before smiling. "Okay!"

Mumma starts laughing at the offended look on Mamí's face and you give her a toothy grin in answer as she shakes her head in disbelief and puts the pens back on your arm.

Mamí works away for a few more minutes before putting the lid back on the pen.

"All done," She says to you.

"All done?"

"All done."

You look away from the video Mumma's showing you on her phone to look down at your arm. You pull at the skin a little bit to see all of it before you crash into a hug with Mamí.

"Mumma! Mumma!" You say excitedly," Look! Look! Like Mamí!"

"Wow!" Mumma says," You're exactly like your Mamí! Should we take a picture?"

You nod. "Picture! Picture!" You tense your arm like how Mamí does when she wants to show off and beam at the camera.

"And how about one with Mamí too? Because you both look so similar."

"Mamí! Mamí! Picture time!"

Mamí kneels down next to you, flexing too as she smiles at the camera.

"Send me that," She says to Mumma," I think that'll have to be my new home screen."

#woso x reader #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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jeridandridge · 10 months

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Hello!

If your requests are still open I would like to request a Mel x reader when they went to college together but after Mel came back to Philly and the reader to California. They never lost touch but now the reader is coming to work in Philly and Mel revisits old feelings. Can you make it with a happy ending? Thank you!

This is long, I hope you dig it as much as I had fun writing it. 🩷

All I Wanted

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It started decades ago in a dorm room. You and Melissa were inseparable and were part of a friend group dubbed the ‘brat pack.’ All these years later you still had those same feelings for the red head.

“I dunno, Red. He was kinda boring.” You hum from your spot on the floor. You went on a date earlier in the night, and of course it didn’t go well. A date can’t go well when you’re in love with someone else.

“Maybe the next one will be it.” She gives you a half hearted smile. She felt relief hearing it hadn’t gone well, a burning feeling in her stomach arose whenever you had a date. She knows she’s selfish. She’s with Joe after all. She shouldn’t have these feelings.

“What about you?” You question looking up from the magazine you were thoughtlessly flipping through. “Is Joe the one?”

Melissa bites her lip not meeting your eyes right away. She wanted to wait until after graduation. She wanted just a little bit more time with you.

“He asked me to marry him.”

You’re certain the pain in your chest is your heart breaking. Never the less, you school your features and plaster the best fake smile on your face.

“I’m happy for you, Mel.”

Today you walk around your studio in California instructing movers where to put things as you hold your phone to your ear.

“Hey, Red. Miss me?” You grin into the phone when Melissa answers.

“Where the hell you been? I’ve called and texted you a thousand times. You’re lucky I didn’t get on a plane and come out there.” Melissa smiles into the phone.

She loved the almost daily phone calls you two shared, never missing a day no matter what time zone you were in or what was going on in your lives.

“That’s why I’m calling you.” You laugh. “I’m moving back to Philly.”

Melissa lights up nearly dropping the bottle of wine she’s holding. “You better not be playing with me, y/n.” She scolds and she leans against the kitchen counter.

“I’m serious. I’m the new director of the Philadelphia museum of art. You’re gonna be stuck with me for a while, Red.”

Melissa’s eyes are watering at the knowledge of you coming back. She’d missed you the last four years that you were in California and now, she feels like she’s getting a second chance with you.

A week later you’re grinning like an idiot when you see Melissa pull up to the curb to pick you up. She immediately gets out of the truck running over and barreling into you.

Your entire body relaxes when your arms wrap around her and the scent of her perfume hits your nose.

“I can’t believe you’re here.” She squeezes you.

“You can’t get rid of me for too long, Mel.” You beam rubbing her back before you pull away.

With your bags loaded up you can’t take your eyes off of her as you two talk, catching up about the last few days.

“You got a place already or what? You’re coming back to my house anyway.” She smiles not leaving you room to argue.

“I have an apartment downtown. Right down the street from the Eagles Stadium.” You grin.

When you get to Melissa’s you look at the house realizing joe lived here before their divorce. You never came back to Philly after they were married. Your friendship with Melissa had been full of phone calls and post cards sent from wherever you were working at the time, and her coming to visit you.

“Dang, Schmmenti. This is nice.” You smile as you wheel your bags in.

“Not bad for a teachers salary, eh?” She teases.

“Hey, you know I was about two seconds away from being a teacher too.” You remind her.

Melissa can’t help but shake her head with a smile. After all this time you were standing in her house, your bags by the door.

“Cmon, make yourself at home, I have a fresh bottle of wine for us.”

Kicking off your shoes and hanging your jacket up you follow her into the kitchen, smiling sadly when you see a photo of you two from graduation day on her wall. The smile hadn’t really reached your eyes even though Melissa was clinging to you. You knew by then that she was marrying joe and you would be going to Portland for a job.

“Hey, we have to drink before we go down memory lane.” She smiles handing you a glass.

You laugh happily taking it.

“I was admiring the layout. This place is very you.”

“Yeah, I’ve had a while to make it my own.” She nods before she takes your hand to drag you to the couch. When you two plop down you two are so close you rest your hand on her thigh as you sip your wine.

“I’m so glad you’re back. I couldn’t take another trip around all those hippies.”

You laugh gently squeezing her thigh. “Everyone in Californias a hippie?”

“The ones you worked around? Duh.”

You’ve missed this so much. Over the phone it’s just not the same. You were ready to settle into life in Philly again.

Almost a week later you’ve gotten into the swing of things again, happy to be in familiar territory. You fall into work easily making friends with your new colleagues and finding the work fascinating. On top of all of this, you go to Melissa’s almost every night for dinner and tonight would be no different except you’re meeting Melissa’s friend Barb.

When you get to Melissa’s you walk upto the door stopping in your tracks when you hear the two women through the screen door.

“Melissa it’s been long enough, don’t you think you deserve a chance at being happy? I haven’t even met the woman and I know she loves you more than joe ever did.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. You take a deep breath to calm yourself before you knock on the screen door and go in. When you do Melissa shoots up from the couch with a smile. “Hi, hon.”

“Hey, Red.” You beam holding up a bottle of wine. “I brought the good stuff.” You joke, “You must be Barbara, it’s so great to finally meet you.”

“Likewise, y/n. I feel like I know you already from what Melissa’s told me about you.”

“Oh no,” you laugh. “I hope she hasn’t talked your ear off. I’m pretty boring.”

Melissa scoffs as she takes the wine from you. “You’re not boring. Come sit down, I’ll get the food out.”

“Let me help you,” you follow her resting your hand on the small of her back.

Dinner goes just as amazing as you thought it would, although thanks to some of Barbara’s comments you have questions.

“I swear I’ve gained five pounds this week just from all the home cooked meals.” You laugh before taking another bite of Melissa’s freshly made garlic bread.

“You need it, all that kale and green juice crap out there.” She rolls her eyes. You can’t help but laugh and smile at her adoringly.

When the night wraps up, you start on the dishes and miss the look Barb gives her friend before she leaves.

“You’re Barb approved.” Melissa grins coming up beside you.

“I’m glad. I’ve been wanting to meet her for years.” You beam. “I was happy knowing you had someone here for you while I couldn’t be.” You try to make it sound as casual as possible, but the guilt you’ve felt all these years is bubbling to the surface. You want her to admit to what you heard.

“But you were there for me, hon. I had the phone bills to prove it.” She smiles reaching over to take the plate from your hands.

“I was cleaning that.” You chuckle.

“Leave it, c’mere. I wanna talk to you.”

She’s turned around and over by the couch before you can say anything. As you dry your hands you take a deep breath. Everything would be fine you told yourself.

Sitting down you curl your legs under you and eye your friend. “What’s up?”

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, ya know?” She hums playing with one of the gold rings on her finger.

“Uh oh.” You tease wanting her to relax a bit.

“Shut up.” She laughs. You reach over entangling your fingers together when she meets your eyes. God she was beautiful.

“Do you remember when I was angry at you for not coming to my wedding?”

The question hits you like a brick. Your mind snaps back to that time over twenty years ago. Instead of going back to the Philadelphia area you hopped on a plane to London, drinking and fucking your feelings for the red head away.

“I do.” It comes out hoarse and almost scared.

You’d never seen Melissa so nervous before in your entire friendship.

“I wanted you there to talk me outta doing it.” She admits with a soft look.

“Does this admission have to do with what Barbara said before I came in?”

“You heard that?” She nods like she knew. You smile squeezing her hand.

“I’d like to make you happy, Mel. It’s all I’ve wanted to do since we were in that shoe box of a room. I couldn’t watch you marry Joe. I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t have been able to interrupt it either. If I walked in there I would’ve been brought out in handcuffs.”

Melissa’s eyes are glossed over, a tear slides down her cheek.

“All I wanted was you.”

You can’t take the sight of her crying. Scooting closer you practically pull her onto your lap and brush the tear away with your thumb.

“You’ve always had me, Red. I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember.”

Melissa doesn’t waste any more time. Cupping your cheeks she leans in meeting your lips in a kiss she’s wanted to share for a long time.

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti #Lisa Ann Walter #lgbt fiction #wlw #college years

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kryptalia · 4 months

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Just One Night

(tiny Mizu fic snippet, to be posted in full to AO3 sometime soon)

So I totally said somewhere in my last couple posts that I was going to post bes fanart sometime during winter break... then I didn't. My bad. Art block, tiredness, all that. Figured I'd make up for it with a little bit of the fic I'm working on where Mizu is so filled with rage and frustration from her failing revenge quest that she takes a risk to blow off some steam.

Enjoy!

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“You seem different from other patrons I’ve known. So serious and quiet,” the woman commented. “Is this your first time, sir?”

Mizu laughed humorlessly. “I’m no virgin. This is my first time as a customer at a pleasure house, though.”

“I see,” she said thoughtfully, “so you might not know what to expect. Why don’t we start--”

“I know what I want,” Mizu interrupted. “I don’t seek my own pleasure tonight.”

The courtesan’s face shifted into confusion from being thrown off her game; nonetheless, she handed the reins to Mizu. “Alright, samurai. Tell me what you seek.”

The playful tone of the courtesan gave Mizu confidence. “I seek only to please you. To touch you, to taste you…that is what I want.”

This courtesan was not young, she was decisive, practiced, and comfortable when she entered, with probably years of experience guiding her. Yet Mizu’s request seemed to be a first for her. Her shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly, her eyebrows raised, and she leaned forward to catch Mizu’s eyes as she thought of a reply.

“You are a strange one.” A minute passed in silence while she poured more sake for herself and Mizu, watching a bead of nervous sweat work its way down the man’s forehead. After a tentative sip, she spoke. “Drink up and show me your skills, samurai.”

Mizu downed her fourth cup quickly, noting the warmth sprouting in her cheeks and trickling down to her stomach. The courtesan’s loosely tied kimono slipped to expose the top of her breast and she instantly felt the warmth bleed lower.

“My name is Mizu,” she stuttered out, a little buzzed, a little nervous. “But I don’t mind you calling me samurai.”

#blue eye samurai #bes #mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai fanfic #bes mizu #mizu fanfic #ao3

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oh-katsuki · 1 year

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im listening to that fucking charlie puth song “i don’t think that i like her” because there is the INKLING idea of a fic / art there that i literally cannot put into words and it’s gonna make me blow up so here’s my best attempt....

tsukishima who is absolutely JADED about dating. not in a like... weird way... but just because he’s always hated it when people get close to him just because they think he’s handsome. hates when people behave that way.. feels like he’s being used. n to make things worse, when he does decide to give it a try... it never works and they always end up breaking things off right when kei starts to catch feelings.

so when he starts liking you first... it drives him absolutely crazy. i mean... you haven’t even confessed to him (yet)... what’s he doing tying himself up in knots over you?? really... it’s the first time he’s liked someone this way and it makes him antsy... makes his chest hurt... makes him feel like his skin is crawling in a way that he (alarmingly) doesn’t hate.

but see... he’s got this nasty little complex. kei doesn’t want to be close.. he doesn’t want to feel this way. hates how he gets red in the face.. how he feels like he has to clutch his chest whenever he thinks about something you did that was particularly cute. makes him gasp for air. it’s childish, really. a childish aversion to feelings and dating stemming from his middle and high school years. nothing extreme, but enough to be considered a complex.

yamaguchi, of course, figures out that kei likes you immediately. he knows his friend like the back of his hand, so it doesn’t take long for him to confront kei and wrench the embarrassing admittance from his grimy hands.

in kei’s defense... it’s pretty hard not to like you. you’re friendly and upbeat, rarely ever gloomy and when you are, you get this earnest expression on your face that makes him want to fix all of your problems for you. you’re genuine, or at least you come across that way. kei and his complex know better. kei’s seen all of the tricks (he thinks). sure, maybe his ego is a little big for the bag it’s in, but kei likes to think he’s got it all figured out, feelings aside.

“i don’t think i like them anymore,” kei admits one warm spring afternoon in yamaguchi’s dorm.

the heat in the room that day is almost stifling and even the open window doesn’t help. for some reason, humidity creeps into the air early and kei adjusts the collar of his shirt.

“oh?” yamaguchi spins in his desk chair. “what makes you say that?”

“i’m over it,” he lies (unbeknownst to himself). “it’s all the same anyway. they’re just playing with me.”

“you know,” yamaguchi laughs, “for someone who’s hardly ever had what could be considered a girlfriend, you sure are jaded.”

kei shrugs his shoulders, avoiding sitting up to keep yamaguchi from seeing the pink covering his cheeks.

“so what?”

“so maybe don’t be like that,” yamaguchi rolls his eyes, not that kei can see it, but he knows that he does.

“like what? practical? proactive?”

“paranoid,” yamaguchi says.

“whatever, i’m serious,” kei says, “i don’t like them anymore.”

“right,” yamaguchi says, “i don’t believe you.”

“you don’t have to,” kei scoffs, “but it’s true”

course, kei knows somewhere deep down that he’s lying. of course he is, usually he doesn’t give so much as a word to yamaguchi about these things, let alone announcing to the world that he “doesn’t like you anymore”, but what else can he do? so kei and his complex convince himself that there’s no feelings.

course that all flies out of the window when you come up to him in the library and kei once again has to resist clutching his chest like he’s having a massive heart attack. he “doesn’t like you anymore”, but you send his world candy-colored anyway.

#tsukishima x reader #drabble #[ 📕 – writing ]#i like this idea but idk what it is #it's cute tho

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michiviv · 6 months

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comfortember, prompt: leaves changing, books

pairing: timeskip! akaashi keiji x gn! reader

sypnosis: akaashi falls in love with the owner of the bookstore along the season.

warning: akaashi calls reader pretty, idk if anything else

notes: slow burn is a joke

word count: 1148

When you officially take over the story the leaves were still green. They framed the shop so perfectly it seemed quaint, homey even. The leaves were still green when you met him for the first time.

By him, I mean the man you'd be silently admiring for months, exchanging few words here and there. He was just so pretty… although he always wore a slightly-exasperated expression as he skimmed through the rows of books. He always made an effort to go through the entire store (it wasn’t much, but he still did), however he always remained near the manga section. Skimming through manga, mostly shonen.

Was he a shonen fan? Did he only read shonen or did he branch out?

Sometimes, when you were tending the counter, he would buy himself a volume and order himself some coffee before sitting on one of the tables facing the counter. The steam from the coffee often fogging up his glasses, which made you giggle as he wiped them. It was a slightly endearing sight. If it wasn't manga, it was a sports magazine, however you would only catch him reading the MSBY section.

You honestly felt like a creep, picking up on his habits. He only came once a week yet somehow you knew all of his reading habits but not his name.

Akaashi was the same too however. He knew your habits, always greeting him with a smile. You always drew animals as your latte art, you drew him a swan once. On your breaks you read romance novels, he saw you pick up a manga once but he didn’t know what you were reading.

Did you read obscure mangas? Like maybe Kiss of the Rose Princess? He didn’t catch anything he personally edited so he assumed you didn’t read much shonen. He had attempted to talk to you, maybe suggest one he had edited but every time he had tried someone wanted coffee. It was his curse.

slowly, overtime the leaves started to grow yellow and the weather slightly chiller. You stared off, outside the window. Thinking of anything you possibly could’ve. Books, rent, taxes, the pretty boy…

“What stage is your favorite?” A voice spoke, it was calm and kind of monotonous. You turned to look at the source and there he was- the man you were just thinking about. maybe you summoned him into exists, “of the leaves, i mean.”

“hm, i don’t think i have one.” you murmured, turning to look at the leaves. you imagined the shift from green to yellow to red to brown. “do you have one…” you trailed off, hoping he’d give you his name.

“akaashi, akaashi keiji.” he introduced himself with a small nod, “i think i like them when they’re green. it’s normal but it’s nice… it’s just right.”

finally you knew his name and it was just perfect. such a pretty name for a pretty boy, you made sure you would **never** forget it. you began to write down notes on his cup, silly little words of encouragement and drawings. one day it’s a cat and the next it’s a pig, he’d never know.

some nights when he came near closing, you’d stay hours just talking with him and learning about each other.

“what were you like in high school?l” you asked him, scrubbing the expresso machine.

“me?” he asked, his eyes widening slightly in surprise before he smiled a little bit to himself. gods, you’d kill for that smile. “i was vice and eventually captain of the volleyball team.”

you gasped a little, listening to his revelation. he didn’t seem like the type to be one of those jock volleyball players, “really? you’re joking.”

akaashi chuckled and shook his head, “dead serious. we competed in the tokyo nationals and my best friend is now a member of the black jackals.”

“that’s amazing, akaashi! show me, who is it?” you asked him, eager to know about his past.

akaashi sought out a sports magazine and brought up a team picture of the team, and started pointing out all of the players he knew and/or played with. in total he had previously met 4 people, bokuto, atsumu, hinata and sakusa. when he pointed out that bokuto was his best friend i could help but let out a ‘damn!’ that guy was ripped!

“you’re telling me— the buff guy is your best friend?” you asked him, sort of in disbelief.

“yes,” he replied, amused, “what? don’t believe me?”

“no, yes… i mean- you two are quite distinct. i can’t imagine you two talking in high school.”

“he was something..” he said with a dramatic sigh, causing both of you to laugh.

as the leaves continued to change, he began coming more often, and maybe his comments became flirtier. you two held contact for a while, began walking around the block together ‘accidentally’ brushing hands. neither of you backed off, yet neither of you took action. which was starting to piss you off.

why couldn’t you just do it. why couldn’t you just hold his hand or ask him out on a date. not that you haven’t tried, the words just get stuck on your throat and you end up asking him to have a walk with you or you offer him a cup of coffee for the cooling weather.

as you berates yourself while decompressing the coffee machine, akaashi walked in. he sauntered over with his hands behind his back. you looked up at him and smiled, “hey, akaashi. how was work?”

akaashi hummed as he pondered a response, “it was alright. work is work.” he started, pausing. he took enough time pondering his response that you had stopped what you were doing and completely turned to look at him; giving him your undivided attention.

“listen, i…” he took another deep breath before looking at you seriously. although his face was serious you could see the uncertainty and nervousness shift in his eyes, “i’ve been interested in you for a while. you’re pretty, you’re smart, you make me feel so happy and alive— basically, what i want to say is that I want to take you out on a date.” he finally confessed, pulling his hand from his back and revealing a bouquet of flowers.

your face had flushed red long before he finished his confession, slowly you took the bouquet of flowers, the grin that slowly grew on your face practically cementing itself there. “akaashi, i-“

“only if you’ll have me.”

“right,” you chuckled, “well, i would love to. these flowers are beautiful.”

“how about tomorrow night… at 7?” he asked, you could see the tips of his ears turning pink as he fidgeted with his fingers, “i’ll pick you up.”

“that sounds perfect.” you reassured him, leaning over the counter to plant a kiss on his cheek.

finally, the leaves had turned red… and they were your favorite.

#haikyū!!#hq #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #haikyu #fluff #comfortober #fukurodani #akaashi keiji #akaashi x reader #haikyuu akaashi #akaashi fluff #hq akaashi #akaashi keji x reader #akaashi x you #imagines #fukurodani x reader

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

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Hella weird but I want Devlin to chase me, like if it’s just an intense game of tag or I’m genuinely trying to run away idc I want that man full on sprinting after me while I’m running away from him. Sounds like a fun adrenaline rush idk

The ride is unusually quiet. Your partner with his rambunctious and unruly self had hyped up the outing up until this point, eerily quiet as his eyes focus on the road. How well that attention spared was beyond you as you were fairly certain he didn't have a driver's license mainly due to the fact he's been alive nearly as long as vehicle transportation itself, but its better not to sweat the small things. He keeps a hand on your leg the entire drive, mindlessly tracing patterns along your thigh muscles. That mischievous grin of his returns as the car breaks to a stop.

"We're here~"

The happy jingle in his voice can't mean anything good, but you pop your seatbelt and follow him outside out of the trust he longed for and you felt you could give. Devlin grabs a bag from the back and your hand as he steps off road and into the treelining. He kisses the top of your hand as he closes your fingers around a flashlight.

"I'm so exciting, babes. No matter what, just remember you'll be safe- as long as you stay close to me and don't pass the blue trees when we get there."

That's definitely comforting. "What are we doing out here?"

That impossible smile only grows. "You'll see."

Devlin leads you into the wood. There's not much on your walk besides trees and rocks, until you come across the stained walls ejected around the forest floor. Vegetation and the hands of time had done their damage, but you could make out what looks to be spray paint art. The tiny monuments gradually incress in size till you're facing down small cobble huts throughout the area. Devlin stops in what appears to be the heart of the field and spreads his arms.

"Ta-da! Cool ain't it?"

You look around, airsoft goggles abandoned by a tree stump. "Is this... a paintball field?"

"Yup. Built right over the cemetery in the town I grew up in. Had some quality fun when was open. Probably the reason it closed too. Yellow eyed devil is what they called me. So fucking lame."

"I'm glad you showed me a part of your past, but is sight seeing all we came to do?"

"Nope."

Devlin snatches your light and tosses it into the trees. He pulls off his coat and lays it over a wall.

You back away as he streches. "I'm confused.."

"I'm gonna hunt ya down, silly. Just a little bonding experience and a way to relieve all the stress I got from watching you mingle with others. Most importantly, it'll be good to see how fast you can run if you flake on me and I have to drag your cute ass back where you belong.

He's dead serious about this. Some warning would've been nice, but the only way out is if you play alone. "What are the roles?"

"You try to make it back to the car without me catching you. It's pretty much a straight line besides the baracades so whether that's an advantage is on you. I'll give you a ten second head start. If you win, I'll do whatever you say for the night. If I win.... well- you'll see soon enough.

It probably would've been best to calculate your chances of winning, but it was clear he was getting antsy. "Alright. I'll play along. You better not be a sore loser like you were when we played operation."

Devlin looks ready to burst from excitement. "Scouts honor. We start in five."

You face the starting point, counting off in your head. You hear Devlin pacing behind you as you get in position. On the final number, your feet sink into the soft earth as you take off. Your countdown continues as you sprint down the path, seconds ticking by until the chase begins. Glancing over your shoulder, you see that Devlin isn't even looking in the direction you're heading. As the second countdown finishes, he takes a knee - running off to your right.

You make up for the wasted time by kicking your flight into second gear. Wasn't the best idea to put all your energy in at the start, but he was up to something and you knew it. Just keep looking ahead and pushing forward. The trees off the path were two dense for him to make it through and somehow catch you. There was probably a trap somewhere or-

Devlin cleans tree leaves out of his hair as he steps onto the path. The fall hurt his ankle, but with a few rolls of his foot it's good as new. You stop dead in your tracks, flinging yourself behind the nearest wall before he can spot you. That bastard was in the trees - waiting for you. You knew he was fast, but that seemed impossible. You peak around the wall to see if he's noticed you.

"Anybody ever tell you how hot you are covered in sweat and afraid?"

Devlin leans over the wall, winking at you as you look up. Grabbing the closest thing to you, you throw a small rock in his general direction as you race off in the direction you came. He catches it and hops over the wall.

"Oh you play dirty, huh? Here I thought I would have to go easy on you."

Your chest burns as you make distance from him as fast as humanly possible. He's gone off road again when you check, but this time you catch a glimpse of him through the thicket of trees right before he bursts out again in front of you. You pedal backwards and into one of the area towers, crawling beneath the glass free window to make it to the otherside. Devlin is already there and covers your mouth before you can scream. He pins you to the wall and celebrates his victory with a kiss to your sweaty skin.

"Looks like I won. I think it's time for the real fun to begin."

Devlin picks you up and sits you on the window sill. You catch your breath as his hands paw your thighs, tongue rolling over your salty skin.

"Another... round."

His ears perk up in tune with his lecherous smirk. "Oh?"

"I... wasn't- ready. If you win, I'll give you... an entire week of doing whatever you want."

Devlin backs off you, the flames of adrenaline rekindled in his eyes and burning brighter than before. "Oh, Y/n. You have no idea what you've just submitted yourself too."

#Carried away cause he my... fifth wife #yandere oc #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #male yandere #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere blurb #yandere drabble #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling

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darlingillustrations · 3 months

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Will You Be My (Platonic) Valentine?

Valentine’s Day is one of my favorite holidays. I’m as shocked as anyone to realize this, especially since I haven’t had a serious romantic relationship in years. But February 14th isn’t just a day for traditional lovers. It is also the day I came out of the closet as queer. It is the day I chose to stand up and show the world who I am. It is a day about self acceptance.

It is a day on which I commemorate loving myself.

After my divorce I started a tradition. Each year for Valentines day, I ask a single friend of mine to be my Platonic Valentine. Every time I do, it creates so much joy and surprise that I can’t help but wonder why more people don’t do this.

There are so many ways to love and be loved. That’s part of what inspires my Affectionate Animal series, in which I strive to paint as many different expressions of loving connection as I can. To me, deconstructing what our ideas of “love” are and reconstructing something that works for us is what lies at the heart of being queer.

I don’t have a boyfriend or a girlfriend. I haven’t even had a date in longer than I can remember. But I remain open and curious to what the universe has in store, and I believe in the power of connection.

Love saves us, in the end, from a world of isolation, both in the giving and the receiving.

If you would like to send someone a little love this Valentine’s Day, consider one of these ideas:

1. Mark the Calendar

Schedule a time to meet for drinks or take a walk and catch up. The anticipation of plans warms the heart as much as the actual plans themself. Quality time is one of the most cherished things we can share.

2. Write a Letter

Artifacts of our connections, like letters and notecards that we send through snail mail, have a way of anchoring our relationships with a weight that online “likes” and “reblogs” do not carry.

3. Potluck

Breaking bread together is one of the oldest forms of intimacy, and it doesn’t even have to be fancy to hold meaning. Invite a loved one over for spaghetti or pbjs. Light a couple candles to make it feel special. Or make time to play a board game afterwards.

4. Book Club

Read your best friend’s favorite book, then talk with them about it. This has been my favorite way to show my kid I love them lately, by reading the Percy Jackson books they are obsessed with, then watching The Lightning Thief TV shows on Netflix with them.

5. Early Spring Cleaning

Make a pact with your friend to each fill up a box with things you don’t need anymore and drop it off at a second-hand store together. Maybe even stay for awhile and thift something new to cherish once you get home.

We’ve all heard Marie Kondo’s mantra “Does this spark joy?” It’s time to apply that to your relationships, as well, and make time for the people who spark joy in your life by letting go of those who don’t.

6. Lend a helping hand

When you feel isolated or lonely, one of the most effective ways to dig your way out of that is to uplift others. Talk about your friend’s hard work or business online, raving about them. If your friend has an event or a project, spread the word about it. Use your voice to spread awareness of others’ dreams, and that will strengthen your connections.

7. Say “I love you.”

It’s so simple, but many of us go so long without hearing simple words of affirmation. It’s never too late to say it, and it’s never too much.

My Affectionate Animal series is available as art prints, notecards and stickers. You can buy them in my online shop.

#platonic valentines day #queer your valentines #queer community #be my valentine #affectionate animal series #affectionate animals #darling illustrations #erin speaks

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mae-gi-writes · 2 years

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More love, more us, more healing . mark lee

Burnt out and overworked, your boyfriend Mark decidedly takes your mental state into his hands and shows you that life is much more than just jobs and routine.

Genre: fluff, angst, feelings of anxiety and helplessness, mark is a cutie.

A/N: For all those who are struggling with their day-to-day life, this is for you.

Song inspiration: More - Sam Ryder

----

"No."

Mark looks at you as if you've grown two heads, "what do you mean, no?" He demands with wide eyes.

"No means no. I need to finish this chapter before I can chill out," you don't even bother looking at him as you type out the words, the sounds of the keyboard bouncing off the walls of your Air BnB apartment that you've rented out for this week.

"You're in Dubrovnik," Mark leans over the table to catch your eye, though you do a good job of avoiding his, "there's no way you're being the slightest bit productive--"

"Mark, please. I'm really trying to finish this here," you send him a look that shows you're actually serious, "just give me ten minutes and I'll be good to go."

A sigh escapes his lips and he collapses into the chair next to yours, looking out at the panoramic view of the seascape speckled with shards of white from the reflection of the sun.

You're actually surprised and glad that he's listening to you, and resume typing up the last chapter for the story you've been posting online for free. It's easy getting back into that headspace when the silence overtakes the room, the quiet buzz of the air conditioner providing good background noise to channel your focus.

But all that is quickly shattered when Mark suddenly bolts upright, chair squeaking. He grabs onto your forearm and tugs you up to standing

"What the--Mark!"

He closes your laptop and drags you out of the door.

"Mark!" You're fighting against his iron hold even if you know it's in vain. He's not going to let you go so easily, so soon, "I didn't even save my work!"

He responds with a mere “later” as he continues dragging you out wherever he’s planned this small adventure.

Your mind immediately starts racing to all the things you still have not yet done; you forgot to send that work email that had been promised this morning, your files still need to be sorted and you briefly remember seeing your colleague’s message pop up on your screen as you were writing out your story instead of focusing on work. You mentally groan; why couldn’t have started with the ones that needed your attention the most?

It’s always this weird downward spiral in which you realize that you haven’t accomplished what you hoped you would. And then, the disappointment seeps through. Followed by shame and irritation.

Mark must have seen the look on your face, for he’s quick to press a kiss to your forehead. You blink, steered right back into the present.

“You’re getting distracted again,” he grins lopsidedly as he always does, that crooked smile that always gets your heart beating a little faster somehow, “stop that brain for a minute,” and he presses a finger to the same spot he’d kissed earlier.

“I’m trying,” you mumble out.

It’s not just work. It’s the fact that you’re not even doing a job you particularly enjoy. You spend your days wasted away at a desk, filing paperwork and printing stuff for people upon request. So whatever you do after work-hours has to be decidedly productive or towards your ideal career, that’s what your brain has trained you to think, anyway.

Every day upon coming home, it’s routine to dump the laptop and work bag on the couch before opening up your personal PC, where you’d type away at a new chapter in hopes of getting it done by the time Mark gets home for dinner. You take a small break during dinner to have nice, simple conversation, then you switch to the small art pieces you’ve been trying to create and that means splitting your time between actually making the art work and actually managing the Instagram page.

There’s no time left before bed. And the next day is the exact same cycle all over again.

No sooner have you started this so-called ‘productive’ routine that it turns toxic, though you don’t see it. Mark does and he’s reprimanded you multiple times for it.

“That much social media ain’t good for you,” he used to say as he watched you from his spot at the sink. He’s the one on cleaning duty while you’re the one cooking. It’s only fair that you divide the tasks.

“I need to do it.”

“You don’t need to do it.”

“Yes. Yes I do,” you looked at him then, “easy for you to say when you write songs for a living. That’s literally the best life anyone could ever ask for.”

“It’s a job,” Mark replied, “at the end of the day, we’re all tired.”

He’d been right that time. He’s always right.

But he came from a place of success. He had multiple opportunities to show his talent. Had the choices given to him.

And you always had to grovel as if you were being left behind.

“Alright, we’re here.”

Mark’s voice jolts you back to the present and you snap back to attention, only to gape at the entirety of seascape that dwarfs you over the horizon, beyond the bus windowpanes from behind which you’re watching. Mark’s hand finds yours, squeezing softly as he leads you out of the vehicle and it isn’t until you’re stepping onto the pavement that he throws his arms out, head tilting back up to the sky.

“Breathe in!” He sucks in a loud breath and you giggle, swat his arm for good measure, “stop it. You’re so embarrassing.”

“That’s my middle name baby,” he winks at you, causing you to swat him again as embarrassment takes over. Always the one with the flirting, even after four years together.

The roads in Dubrovnik aren’t like normal city streets. They follow the flow of the mountain, winding up and down, going narrow then expanding wide whenever it allows for space. They are flanked by multitudes of rocks and a rich foliage of green adorning the houses that line the street.

You spot other tourists making their way down the stony steps leading to the beach, where Mark is currently directing you. Beyond lies the glimmering turquoise sea water sloshing up to the bank of jagged rocks from where people are currently jumping off of. In the distance, you hear the sound of waves, the call of seagulls, the chatter of voices.

Life, in general.

"Shall we?" Mark gestures towards the stone steps leading to the beach and you nod mutely, still on the fence about leaving everything behind. Aren't you just wasting time like this? Maybe you should--

All thoughts scatter when he tugs you to him and before you know it, he's sauntering down the said stairs, whistling a tune under his breath, you in tow.

"Mark, I--"

"If it's about doing something productive, I don't wanna hear it."

Your laugh escapes you before you can stop it, "actually no, it's about the beach thing."

"What about it?" He turns to look at you and his sunglasses slip down his head to his nose. Your laugh increases tenfold and if you had taken notice of him, you would've seen the grin widening across his face.

"Well, I wanted to tell you that I'd prefer the shade," you say, following down the rest of the steps until you reach the rocky floor leading to the water, "it's hot and I don't feel like burning myself."

"That can be arranged princess."

You flush once more, swat him on the arm, "stop it you idiot.”

"You like it when I call you that huh?" Mark teases as you move to a shadier area and you pull a face at him, knowing that hitting him won't have any effect anyway.

People are everywhere; lounging along the beach on towels, sunbathing like cats in the sun, plunging in and cliff jumping like there's nothing else more important in the world.

You’re about to say something, only to be interrupted by Mark grabbing your cheeks and squishing them up.

“Gotta smile a little,” his voice is bubbly and yet, it’s the tenderness in his eyes that makes your heart feel all fuzzy, “life’s good. Right?”

“Right,” you mumble, mystified that this amazing man would want to go out with the likes of you.

But true to his promise, Mark is right. The water does cool you down and allow the thoughts to melt away as you submerge yourself. The freshness makes you gasp, hairs on the back of your neck rising with goosebumps as your body automatically moves to provide some warmth.

You can’t help but yelp when he inevitably splashes you with water, “Ugh Mark!”

He laughs, shrieking as you splash him back, “okay okay!” He giggles, ducking this way and that in an attempt to avoid your assault, “truce! I call truce!”

You lower your hands, lowering your guard and it’s only when you’re swimming away that his hands come pressing down on your shoulders.

He dunks you headfirst and you come up screaming.

“You are so annoying!” You push seawater and hair out of your eyes, hands blindly splashing him some more.

“Oh gosh Y/N,” he’s chortling and choking on water, hands coming up to shield his face, “your face! You should’ve seen your face!”

“I hate you!”

“No you don’t!”

And in a flash, his arms weave around your waist.

He blocks your arms at your sides, cages you in his hold until you’re face to face.

He grins at you with adoration in his eyes and you find yourself grinning too.

“You’re an idiot,” you murmur while his forehead leans against yours.

He chuckles softly before one of his hands slide up to cup your cheek, “an idiot for you, surely.”

“Oh stop it with the sweet talk.”

“But how am I supposed to woo your pants off?” He pouts.

“Easy. You don’t.”

"I so do."

Your hand clamps down onto his mouth, “you talk too much.”

He mumbles a string of incoherent words that make you laugh even more, only to lick your hand.

You yelp, pulling away as he smacks his lips, “hmm. Salty.”

"You are disgusting."

"But you love me."

"Not when you do that, no."

"You dooo," he whines like a kicked puppy, "you can't live without me Y/N."

Sighing, you're well aware that he's saying the truth, "you're right. I cannot--"

He's quick to interrupt with a kiss. He grins at your astounded expression. Then, heat flushes right up to your cheeks.

"Idiot," you hide your face into the crook of his neck so as not to show your embarrassment but it's of no use. Mark pulls you away to grin at your flustered expression and you know, despite the fact that you hate how transparent you are, Mark loves it terribly.

"Cute," he steals another kiss before you cab say anything else, and you splutter, "y--you--"

"Yes? I? Blew you off your feet?" He nuzzles his nose with yours, "as I always do?" And proceeds to kiss your cheek, giggling.

This is presumably what you love the most about Mark. He makes you forget the troubles of life if only to live in the moment. You can let go of everything and just be for a little while, you can relax and be yourself. The self that isn't weighed down by the numerous impossible tasks set for you.

You get cold soon enough and decide to warm up in the sun, sitting atop rocks with both legs dangling as you talk about everything, about life, about what you should do for the rest of the day.

"I'm hungry." You tell him after a while.

He hums, "what shall we eat? I know they're famous for their seafood."

You decide on walking along the street, as per what Mark likes to refer as "Hakuna Matata" style. That is, until you stumble upon a hot dog stand.

"You want that?" Mark asks after noticing the way you keep glancing back at it.

"Do you?"

He slings an arm around your shoulder with a grin, "if you want it, I want it too."

Afterwards, you decide to visit the famous Old Town, a tourist village of old stone buildings, millions of stone steps winding in and out of the main road as if you've stumbled into a fairytale. Your eyes take in the red-tiled rooftops, the buildings made up of stone pieces and the beautiful architecture that surrounds it. And you suddenly realize one thing:

You're incredibly lucky.

You are lucky to be here. Lucky to even have the opportunity to see all this.

And yet, you had been stressing about work and about not meeting deadlines.

It's when you're sitting outside on the steps leading to a random cathedral eating ice cream that you voice this out to Mark.

"Yeah you stress a lot Y/N. Sometimes you gotta just--" Mark gestures a wave with his hands, "let it go."

"I know," you mumble, finishing off the last of your ice cream, "it's easier said than done though."

His hand rubs comforting circles over your shoulder. Then, he motions for you to get up.

"Come on," he wipes the dust from his shorts, reaches a hand out for you to take, "let's go do something wild."

Turns out that "something wild" means cliff jumping on the edge of the open-air Pub that overlooked the ocean.

"You want me to jump that?" Your fear gets the better of you. You peek over the rock edge down at the deep aquamarine of the water below and wonder if this is the day you'll die.

"You better, because there's no other way down than this one," one of the other boys who had climbed up after you and Mark says. And then off he goes, catapulting into the water with a huge splash and a cry.

You look at Mark, "you want to kill me."

He laughs, a hand circling your waist before he presses a kiss to your forehead, "you want me to go first?"

"No no," you know that if Mark goes first you'll never have the courage to jump, "I'll go."

And so you do.

Taking a deep breath, you try to atabilize yourself and close your eyes. Then, without thinking twice, your feet kick off the stone and push yourself into the void, adrenaline rushing through your body.

You float in mid-air for a moment and you can't help the scream that tears out of your mouth.

And then the water hits. Your body plunges into the depths.

It's refreshing. It's cool, and the sound of rushing water fills your ears as you float up to the surface.

A grin blossoms across your face as you look up at the rocky cliff.

"Wooo!" You yell at Mark, "this is so cool!"

"Woo!" He yells back, "catapult! Incoming!"

And a second later, he's splashing in right beside you and you laugh. A full, deep-bellied laugh for the first time in ages.

"Pretty cool huh?" He pushes his wet hair back from his face and you help him, an affectionate smile on your lips, "yeah, pretty cool indeed."

"See? You would've missed all this if you were cooped up in your room," he nudges your arm with his as your hand finds support on his shoulder.

“Maybe I would’ve finished my work earlier,” you joke.

“But you’d just go back to work on something else,” he pushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear, “at least you get to enjoy yourself a little.”

“Have you ever considered doing a ted talk?” You ask him as you start swimming back towards the ladder, the cold finally seeping into your bones and making you shiver, “you might want to switch careers.”

“Nah but then I wouldn’t be able to personally counsel my girlfriend,” he looks up at you while you rummage for some dry towels. Tossing them at him, he continues, “where’s the fun in that?’

“Your girlfriend can do just fine.”

“Can she?” He raises a brow, “I don’t doubt it. But she still needs someone.”

It’s the way he looks at you as he says those words coated with nothing but a deep, full-fledged affection that makes you want to burst out into happy tears. You blink them back fiercely, turning away so as not to make a fool out of yourself as you grovel for an answer, “stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” His grin widens. He moves closer, chest almost touching your shoulder before he leans in and ever so slightly, murmurs into your ear, “like I love you?’

“Yes,” you narrow your eyes, “exactly that.”

Laughing some more as he winds an arm around your waist, he squeezes you to him, “love you,” he mumbles into your hair.

“Love you too.”

As the sun falls over the coast of the island, the pair of you decide to dash back to your little accommodation for a quick shower before deciding to have an early dinner by the beach. You walk along the shore spanning from one coastline to the next and as the golden hour comes up to unfurl its dreaminess onto the Croatian landscape, you can’t help but lose yourself in the beautiful way the sun glimmers over the waves to cast amber light over its surface, the sky turning a bright pinkish orange with cotton candy clouds that makes you dream forever.

You find a little spot by the rocks where the waves lap up at intervals and, with your Mcdonald burgers in hand — as basic as you are despite the abundance of amazing Dubrovnik food in the area — you sit back and watch the sun cast a final goodbye over the horizon before its like disappears.

“I actually don’t want this day to end,” is what falls out of your mouth when the final slithers of the sun drop away from view to cast shades of blue over the beach, “I don’t think I’ve laughed that much in a while.”

“It’s nice to see you like that,” Mark turns to you then, that same soft smile gracing his lips and making your heart tickle. He presses his shoulder to yours, a gesture of comfort that warms you up, “you work so much that I tend to forget how you look like when you smile—“

“Don’t be so dramatic—“

“I’m not, Y/N.” His eyes find yours, “I mean it. You come home always tired and I don’t know what’s going on because every time I ask you, you brush me away and say you don’t want to talk about it. That’s fair enough, but do you know how helpless I feel when you’re literally sleepwalking around the house? It hurts me more than you think, Y/N. And it’s worse because I can’t do anything about it.”

Everything he says rings with truth, and despite the fact that he’s being gentle and is actually saying this for your benefit, you can’t help the tears that swell up in the corner of your eyes and you look away in fear that he’ll see you sniffling, hating how ignorant you’d been of what Mark was going through because you were too wrapped up in your own little world to care.

“I’m sorry,” is what you mumble out, “I didn’t realize how bad it had become.”

Mark shakes his head before his arm weaves around your waist to tug you closer, “no need for sorry’s,” his lips ghost over your temple, “I just want you to smile more, to be happier, to have things to laugh about.”

“I’ll try to take care of myself more.”

“Yeah and I’ll be there to bully you if you don’t,” he grins against your forehead.

You push at him in response, though there’s a wide grin almost splitting your face in two as you nuzzle even closer to try and hide your face into the crook of his neck. A comfortable silence takes hold and you bask in the serenity it brings; here with Mark and with remnants of salt on the tip of your tongue, you allow yourself this moment to enjoy the lapping of waters, the soft rocking of boats tied to the harbor, the call of birds to signal the end of the day. And you know that you’d live for more days like this with Mark at your side.

“Hey,” Mark’s murmur causes you to blink up at him, only for his mouth to descend on yours, sealing that moment with a sweet kiss.

You stifle a breath to kiss back, one of your hands sliding up to press along his neck to deepen it. His tighten his hold around your waist and as your bodies press together, your mouths start moving in sync, slowly, slow waves softly bobbing and meeting half-way. Goosebumps rise along the back of your neck, heat coiling through your stomach the more you keep kissing, the more your lips chase each other’s as if there’s nothing else in the world that matters but this moment, this touch from him to you, from you to him.

Mark tilts his head to the side and you angle yours as you feel the warmth of his tongue licking along your bottom lip. You open up to him, allowing him to delve in as a soft whimper jumps out from your throat. He grunts in response and pulls you even closer if that’s possible.

As light-headed as you feel, you pull away in order to halt yourself from getting too carried away by the magic of it all. You are in a public space after all and definitely not in an appropriate one to exchange such intimacy.

Mark’s forehead finds its way to yours and he grins down at you wickedly, the same little mischievous boy that has stolen your heart for safekeeping.

“Thank you,” you breathe out in the comfortable silence wrapping you up in a cocoon of warmth you’d like to call home, “thank you for taking care of me.”

“Thank you,” he says back before pressing one last kiss to your lips, “for loving me.”

“Ew, how are you so cheesy?” You try to wrinkle your nose, even lean back for good measure, but he beats you to it by caging you in his hold and chuckling when it’s clear you won’t be able to get out so easily.

“Just for you, baby,” he smiles at you easily and your heart melts in your chest.

Mark’s right. You need to stop, and breathe, and live a little more. All this time you’ve been running around the clock in a competition against no one but your own shadow, and at the end of the day, you’re still human. You still need to rest, to have peace, to have love. And to be loved.

To be loved, and to give more love.

And you can’t think of anyone else you’d like to share it with other than Mark.

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myveryownfanfiction · 23 days

Text

18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI

requested by @onedirectionlovers2014

request from: @poohsources

prompts: “I just want you to know how I feel…in case one of us won’t make it.” And “I have no idea how I ever managed to fall in love with someone as infuriating as you.”

tags: @illiana-mystery

warnings: swearing, elevator breaking down

I wrapped my scarf around me tighter as I waited for the elevator. Dan stood next to me, shifting from foot to foot. The winter advisory had us spending the night in the courthouse. I wasn’t thrilled about it but there wasn’t much I could do.

“where is the damn elevator?” Dan muttered. I rolled my eyes at him.

“It’s cold Dan.” I shot back. “It’s going to take some time. But if you’re in such a hurry, you could take the stairs.” He shuddered and I chuckled. “Yeah that’s what I thought.”

“oh shut up.” He said as the elevator finally dinged. We both entered and pushed the button for the basement.

“could be worse.” I teased. Dan shot me a look.

“yeah?” He asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “How, pray tell, could it be worse?” We jerked into each other, Dan reaching out to catch me as we stumbled. The elevator ground to a halt as we looked at each other.

“that.” I breathed out. “That’s how it could be worse.” I looked up at the ceiling and frowned. “And here’s hoping they realize we’re missing and art can get the elevator moving again.” Dan let me go and moved to the corner. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head.

“why me?” He moaned. “Why is it always me trapped in here?”

“hey at least it’s not sumo wrestlers again.” I tried to joke, my nervous tone ruining it. Dan shot me a look and sat down in his corner. I shivered as I sat in the opposite corner.

“last time i was stuck in here while it was cold, i nearly froze. So don’t get your hopes up that we’ll be rescued soon.” Dan pointed out. I nodded and pulled my coat tighter.

“I remember that. Guy with the dog breeding right?” Dan nodded.

“bull still shows that picture around on bad days.” I said, smiling softly at the memory. Dan shuddered and curled in on himself.

“don’t remind me.” He said. I pulled my knees up to my chest and rest my chin on them. Time passed slowly as we sat in silence. My breath started coming out as vapor and I bit my lip as I shivered. It was near constant now. Dan looked over at me and frowned. “You alright?” He asked, white steam floating in front of him too. I shrugged and Dan looked me over. He sighed as he got up.

“what are you doing?” I asked, teeth starting to chatter. Dan sat down next to me and held his arm open.

“we’re going to freeze to death. Might as well delay the inevitable.” He said, waving his hand to try to make me move faster. I scooted over towards him and ducked under his arm. He pulled me close and made sure his coat was tucked around us both before leaning into me.

“why are you being so nice?” I asked, unconsciously leaning closer to his warmth. Dan sighed.

“I just want you to know how I feel…in case one of us won’t make it.” he said after a second. “Never thought I’d actually tell you. But then again I didn’t think I’d be stuck in this damn elevator again.” Dan sighed as he leaned his head against mine. I stiffened slightly before turning to look at him. He was incredibly close and it would have been nothing to lean in to kiss him.

“what do you mean?” I asked softly, eyes flicking down to his lips.

“I have no idea how I ever managed to fall in love with someone as infuriating as you.” Dan scoffed. I laughed until I realized he was serious.

“wait really?” I asked, eyes wide. Dans gaze fell to my lips before closing the distance between us. I gasped as he kissed me, unsure how to react until he started to pull away. Coming to my senses, I kissed him back; grabbing his collar and pulling him closer. “Holy crap.” I breathed out when we finally broke apart.

“you’re telling me.” Dan chuckled, brushing some hair off my face. I nodded. “I’ve felt that way for a while. There’s a million better ways to have told you but…” he shrugged, pulling me closer.

“it doesn’t look like we’re going to be saved anytime soon.” I finished. Dan nodded. I smoothed my hand over his chest and Dan smiled at me.

“this is a much better way to spend our remaining time though.” He shrugged. I laughed. Dan leaned in to kiss me again and I let him. He had just pulled me into his lap when the elevator started moving again, the doors opening to reveal art and Harry.

“Dan you really need to…oh…” Harry said, making us pull apart. “Sorry.” He blushed as he turned to walk away.

“really Mr. Fielding you have the shittiest luck.” Art said, propping the door open while we stood up. Dan took my hand and held it tightly as we walked out.

“I wouldn’t say that.” Dan said with a smile towards me. “This time wasn’t so bad.”

#john larroquette #john larroquette fanfic #john larroquette fanfiction #john larroquette imagine #john larroquette x reader #dan fielding #dan fielding x reader #dan fielding fanfic #dan fielding fanfiction #dan fielding imagine

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lucienne-thee-librarian · 1 year

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Desunity 😏

HERE WE GO 😤🥂

when I started shipping it if I did: Not that long ago, just a couple months after I'd seen the show versions. When I first saw the show's change to make it something like an actual relationship, I thought "huh that's an interesting take". And then a few weeks later I saw some memes and art by @fishfingersandscarves that made me laugh....and then a few days later read a semi-humorous fic that still awakened Emotions and Thoughts. And then the wheels started turning in my brain and I somehow I blacked out and woke up in a pile of drafted half coherent DM metas and a whole goddamn playlist and a new set of shrimp emotions about this, so.

my thoughts: The possibilities opened up by making this an actual relationship are FASCINATING because there's so many directions you can go with this. You can lean into the tragedy and psychological horror potential still there, make it a dark comedy of this good hearted girlboss and amoral but devoted cat-spouse/catwifeband, look for the sweet moments in between the beginning and the inevitable end...there's so much you can play with.

What makes me happy about them: Unity spoke so fondly of her golden eyed stranger and you Know she had to suspect they weren't entirely who they seemed. And yet she still loved them. She probably thought they were a vampire or who knows, an actual god for all she knew and she just rolled with it. Hence why it's actually quite easy to imagine that while for their purposes Desire appeared to her mainly in the form of a man, and they probably didn't feel they should show off their true gender-transcending nature to an early-20th century gal without breaking her brain or scaring her off, they might have let slip glimpses of it, playing with gender in more understandable, to her, ways via "cross-dressing". Also because it's difficult to imagine Desire being willing to tie themselves to any one gender performance for very long. (This is fully a headcanon but it's one of my favorites.) Oh, and the fact that since their life together basically happens in the Dreaming means they can go ANYWHERE together, and they have a buffet of experiences to sample. Unity wants to go to space? They can go, Unity wants to go travel the world in dreams, the pair can do that. The opportunities are, well, endless:)

What makes me sad about them: That imo, it's totally impossible for them to have a truly happy ending, unless you're doing an au or some serious and specific canon divergence to make Desire basically come clean early or call off the whole vortex scheme somehow - or unless you can somehow completely ignore the horroresque implications of what Unity is being just straight up lied to about or not told in order to keep the happy family going. Because...Desire fully sowed the seeds of the destruction of not just their own children, or grand/greatgrandkids here but of the possibility for the relationship to last, by doing this. Even if they end up catching genuine feelings for Unity along the way - like is someone like her who loves Rose and Jed so much really going to be able to forgive that easily, if at all? Plus she's mortal, and Desire asking Death for a Hob Gadling-style boon has the teensy little problem of...risking having their sister who like Unity, is NOT stupid but UNlike Unity, knows the millions of years long track record of their bullshit, poking around and figuring out the whole plot. Which I believe is the primary unspoken threat Dream was delivering in that confrontation scene near the end. He didn't tell Death and the others about what Desire did for a reason, because if he did they would be PISSED and despite everything deep down he does love his sibling. So no matter what, this relationship was doomed from the start by the way Desire started things, or by them fathering a child with her. It has an inevitable time limit one way or the other. They painted themselves and their relationship into a corner here. Mind you, the tragedy is part of the appeal for me, I have developed a taste for problematic charismatic bitches accidentally sowing the seeds of their own downfall, getting caught in their own honeytrap, so to speak. Also there really is something to the sweet sweet irony of the idea of Desire of the Endless, who always pokes fun at how easily enslaved Dream is and mortals are by love and desire...falling into the same exact hole. But imo, in the canon universe, a tragic ending one way or the other is unavoidable. If you're doing an au or a divergent canon ofc the rules can be different.

things done in fanfic that annoys me: I haven't seen it often, but if somebody includes the events as laid out in show canon and then just. Has these two meet and make up later easily no muss no fuss. I get it's about wish fulfillment (fittingly, lol) but I just don't see Unity as a character having it in her to forgive, certainly not easily, someone who whether their feelings for her end up being genuine or not, still started this as part of a plot to use their children, Desire's and Unity's descendants, as walking time bombs to get to Dream. Not without her being basically lied to forever. (Now depending on how well the fic is written it might not be a deal breaker because fam the pool of choice here is TINY. Tiny)

things I look for in fanfic: These characters to be together and finding moments of happiness, maybe in another world where things didn't get ruined from the beginning so they could end happily maybe, or explorations of the tragedy...I just want more lol, but above all I want the unconventionality and spice that would makes these two characters compelling together. Like, that unique blend of fucked-up-but-still-with-shockingly-sincere-doomed-mutual-love canon compliance OR an au where their relationship is still not exactly conventional in some way, it raises people's eyebrows but these two don't care because they're happy together, whatever they have works for them. The one thing it won't ever be is boring.

Who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not each other: Unity and peace of mind lmfao, Desire - honestly I don't really have any other ships for them that come to mind, they're already an essay and a half's worth of character on their own *shrug* also the aro/ace/aroace Desire headcanons are equally fascinating AND imo, actually matches what we see of them in the series a lot more than you'd think.

My happily ever after for them: In an au tbh xD where they get to start on a foundation that was built on something honest and forge their own unique bond and just be who they are, together.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: At first it's mainly Unity as the little spoon but over time they switch more, Unity loves to be cuddled but also to cuddle her minx, who ofc, absolutely does not mind being spoiled

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: Dancing. Attending the opera or a ballet together. Unity has a genuinely captivating passion for the arts that Desire shares and appreciates. Even if they have Opinions about when a singer/dancer is underperforming and won't hesitate to mutter comments under their breath to make Unity elbow them or start giggling to the point where if this wasn't the Dreaming they'd get kicked out of the theater.

#desunity #unity x desire #unity kincaid #desire #ship and characters meme #a desire for unity #the pain of shipping something but not only is it a rarepair its often in *such* a specific way you need to see it

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scorchedhearth · 2 years

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for the drabbles can i request kyle drawing/painting jason

you sure can! this was fun :>

get your own drabble

This is wildly underwhelming. Given, Jason’s interactions with art have been few and far between, his knowledge comes mostly from movies and books which isn’t the most reliable source, yes. To say he wasn’t prepared would be one way to put it. Still. This is underwhelming and now he has to temper down his expectations.

Because posing for Kyle is nothing like he imagined. He may have kept himself from saying ‘Draw me like one of your french girls.’ out loud but he thought about it anyway, who wouldn’t have when asked to model? But whatever he imagined didn’t include Kyle making him keep a position that cramped at least two muscles at a time for twenty minutes before moving him into another one that he finds interesting enough and starting the clock again, over and over. Quick studies he told him, just to warm up before starting on a real piece.

So now Jason is in Kyle’s living room turned studio, naked and sitting down on a sheet spread over a few boxes with his limbs twisted in a way that provides excellent shadows and contrasts Kyle told him. He believes him, elbows aren’t meant to lay like that on knees, the strain in his joint attests to that. And sure he could leave, he could stand up and go do something more exciting, easy as that. But the soft smile Kyle made when he sat down behind his easel with his pencils and charcoal made something tug in Jason’s chest.

It had been weeks since he could draw, even longer since he managed to sneak studies and real-life drawing, Lantern duties keeping him busy along with the League and Earth troubles. The happy thrum in his fingers and satisfied hums he sighs every so often are too good for Jason to rip them out of his hands. So he sits as he’s told, listens to the city noises and lead scrapping paper as Kyle is lost in his own head.

When he’s not making him face away, Jason seizes the opportunity to study him in return. They’ve been growing closer and closer these past few months, and Jason does his fair share of staring of course but Kyle always catches up to it and shoot him a smile or a wink, breaking the spell of watching unseen. But here, with Kyle lost in his piece, too busy focusing on working the right shade or getting an angle perfectly, he doesn’t register Jason’s gaze. That leaves him to drink in the sight, the lines of his face, the swoop of dark hair right above his eyes, the muscles straining in his forearms with each flick of his wrist, the tapping of his foot when he’s getting frustrated on a particular spot. It’s nice, to take his time in studying him for once.

It’s interesting to see Kyle treating him like a model and not the friend slash somewhat boyfriend they’ve become. He doesn’t look at him with his usual mirth and spark of life, instead his gaze is highly analytical, looking at flesh and skin and the way light plays over those, thinking over the mechanics and how-to of his body instead of the esthetics. It does something to his head, to have Kyle’s gaze glance over him and take him as nothing but a sum of details to decipher and sketch. He doesn’t touch him either as Jason had expected, he only instructs him from afar, shows him what he wants him to do with various limbs and body parts, how to ruffle his hair in a more interesting way. But he keeps his distance, looking at him from his easel positioned a few feet away from him, detailing his body as he might with any other subject.

He likes it, somehow. It’s another side of Kyle he doesn’t get to see. That not many people get to see, really, because as open as he is about his career and work, Kyle is rather guarded about his process. He doodles when out and will show off from time to time a more complex drawing but any more serious pieces are created behind closed doors. Be it his commercial work or more personal ones, he will shutter himself away and come out days and weeks later with the final piece to show. Jason tries not to think too hard about what it means that he’s part of the tight circle of people who Kyle allowed near him as he works.

His eyes catch the clock sitting on the table nearby and Jason allows the hand another run full circle before he speaks up.

“Time’s up.” His voice sounds incredibly loud in the quiet of his studio.

“Uh?” Kyle’s head shoots up, a frown between his eyebrow.

“I said, time’s up. Pens down, you’re done.”

“Right.” Kyle looks at his easel, then Jason, then back at it and before he can fidget with it anymore Jason stands up and take away his scene, gets his knees under himself and slowly unrolls his spine, stretching his sore shoulders.

“You’re done. You told me twenty minutes no more.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Kyle huffs and set his charcoal down, wiping his fingers on a rag sitting next to his stool. He tilts his head to the right, then left, and sighs. “Think I’m done with those for now. I wanna move on to paint.” He glances at Jason who’s busy pulling on his arm to work out a crank. “You alright with that?”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “Give me ten, I need a break, and then we can do whatever you want.” He doesn’t forget to grin at the slight pink that brushes Kyle’s cheek at the innuendo.

“Shut up.” He tries to grunt but it comes out amused so Jason considers it a scored point for him. “Want anything to drink?” He asks as he picks up the robe from the nearby chair and hands it to Jason. “I think I need a break too, my wrist’s getting tight.”

“Lead the way,” Jason gestures toward the kitchen and follows Kyle, eager to share a conversation with him instead of only standing around looking hot and handsome. He says so out loud and Kyle’s laugh is almost worth the shot at his ego.

#asks #anon #dc #jaykyle #yes modeling isn’t supposed to be uncomfortable but jason was being a dick and a show-off #so kyle took advantage of that and got some nice drawing out of it #*myfic #jason todd #kyle rayner

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archduke-enver-gortash · 1 year

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❌🌹🌺 for Ven?

❌ What kind of things would end any relationship for them? Is there a history behind why these things bother them? Could they ever take someone back despite this? If so or if not, why?

generally boring her. ven doesn’t have many friends at all and she is super quick to drop anyone if they can’t entertain her anymore. for sexual partners it used to be catching feelings for her lol. she’d always immediately end anything as soon as the person started genuinely liking her. ven was just like. trying to not be a person as hard as possible and someone bringing in feelings for her WAS always a dealbreaker. with regongar it’s like. oh he confessed. fuck. but uhm i can’t break up with him he’s so fun! (few months later) ok it’s getting serious now i HAVE to break up with him. well. maybe just let him rail me one more night. i’m going to miss him… NO. STOP. just the sex. not him. why did i start crying. I DON’T LOVE HIM BRAIN. ok. ok. maybe i do— (cue mental breakdown) (she’s a fucking mess guys)

🌹How easy is it for them to connect with others and make friends? On the flip side how easy is it for them to make an enemy of someone? Are they the kind of person who hangs around the food table at a party and never talks to anyone or are they the type who can talk to anyone?

like i said before, she does not have many friends. her best friend is obviously reg, and she gets along with jubilost pretty decently but that’s about it. (reg/ven friendless loser duo lmao) it’s not easy for her to connect with people; it literally took several years and so many tears for her to let reg in, tell him about her past, or just. what she’s feeling in the moment. telling him that she loves him took her months and she almost puked (out of nervousness) right after.

ven doesn’t really have enemies either honestly. she doesn’t really hate any of the major villains (i don’t know how far you are into kingmaker so i don’t wanna spoil you) one of them even becomes her advisor later on! it’s sort of a me or them situation and she doesn’t care about the results, as long as she has fun. regongar often picks out their enemies for them lol. and with him it’s like. speak to her on a wrong day and he slits your throat. and ven is just going along with what he says most of the time, because she doesn’t care anyway.

at a food table she would mostly people watch. despite what it seems like, ven is actually more introverted than extroverted. (still an ambivert tho) she prefers to observe rather than be the focus at a party. most talking done at those gatherings is like personal questions and she fucking hates those. if it was a super boring party she’d absolutely start shit though. it’s just if she doesn’t have to intervene, she doesn’t.

🌺 Does your OC have any tattoos or other body art? Does their body art have any specific meaning behind it? Do they have any scars? How did they get those scars? Any birthmarks?

yup! here’s her tattoos:

they honestly don’t have any meaning besides the color (she’s a water/fire kineticist. blue + red = purple) i just think they look cool.

she has a massive scar across the back of her head because her first adoptive mom erphee tried to give her the fantasy version of a lobotomy. she desperately tries to keep it hidden at all times, but one time reg finally noticed it and spoke to her about it. he probably wasn’t even super serious, like “wow that’s sick how’d you get it?” and ven completely freaks out on him and they have their first and one of their only genuinely serious fights ever.

she has lots of birthmarks (big and small) all over her body :) (something i decided for her a short while ago, so it’s not in this months old pic) (she gets lots of kissies from reg on all of them)

#thank you for the ask!#oc: ven #aeoncoded

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robotskilledmygrandma · 10 months

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A lil guide for anyone looking for some fanfiction or now my AI artworks

Hello! I accidentally deleted my pages for writing so I'm just gonna pin this post with all the info for the very few fanfics I have written and also anything I am going to post on here. Marvel Fanfiction What Should We Name Her? Bucky Barnes x Reader Summary: Who knew that Bucky’s undoing would have eight legs? Damsels In Distress: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Bucky Barnes x Reader. Summary: Bucky and Steve don’t usually get captured, but their missions don’t usually involve zombies. Now he has to deal with the fact that the emergency alarm went out to not only the team, but to you, his girlfriend. This is not the way to a girl’s heart.

Hogwarts Legacy Hogwarts Legacy AI Art :) AI Art WIP (that I have probably abandoned but were cool ideas) Let me know if you want me to complete them, hold me accountable! MARVEL Bucky X Reader #1: After losing his arm in a car accident, Bucky Barnes struggles with every day tasks but after already having some hired help, he refuses to get more. Natasha however, isn't having any of it and goes out of her way to hire him a private chef.

#2: I don't like tea and other lies Bucky tells himself. Bucky wakes up in a strangers house after passing out on their doorstep after a particularly bad fight. He is resistant to their help but this stranger isn't having it and takes it upon themselves to get his stubborn ass back to the Avengers Tower

#3: This is not a safehouse. The mission goes horridly wrong to no-one's surprise and the safehouse is destroyed. Steve and Bucky follow Natasha to another safehouse, except that it's not and now it's time to meet Natasha's "old friend".

#4: Lessons in apologies and being a disaster by Bucky Barnes Being a superhero is hard and Bucky can't catch a break, he's just trying to get by and start enjoying his life. But a tense encounter with a person he mistakes as a reporter makes his relationship with his new neighbour all the more strenuous that it has to be. It's Sam to the rescue.

#5 An egg for a brain. (I fucking love this one and do intend to continue it.) Bucky is well versed with Murphy's Law but this is one of those times he thinks the world is just out to get him. An accident causes Bucky to lose all his memories except for those from before World War 2. Steve is the only person he knows, he's lost in a modern world that he dreamt of living in, is struggling with the fact he can't remember shit about who he is (everyone is quick to chime in though) and to top it off, he can't seem to face the woman he fell in love with. #6: A Serious Problem It's Tuesday and portals open above New York. Again. The first on the scene is not the Avengers or even any of the other local crime-fighting vigilantes. The first person appears seemingly out of nowhere, brandishing rebar and a fiery attitude. Of all people, it's Spider-Man who they say hi to while sprinting past covered in alien blood.

Stucky - Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (my beloved ship omg)

#1: Shit My Soulmate Listens To (The story of how Steve Rogers loses his mind, just a little. (Another one I intend to finish cos it's gonna be so good). It's not that Steve is a snob. Really, he isn't. It's just that he has good taste. And his Soulmate certainly does not. And he swears if he has to hear the same damn song one more time, he's going to punch someone.

#2 Becoming (My post-endgame somewhat fix-it that finally tackles the abandonment of Bucky by Steve). This is a story about heartbreak, grief, healing and self-discovery. Bucky knew that Steve wasn't returning after he put the stones back, but that didn't stop it from it hitting him like a truck. He takes a break from being a superhero, learns to be Bucky Barnes again and learns that some endings are actually beginnings.

#3: Doom. Or how Bucky Barnes got fucked over, lost an arm, went to Hell and came back laughing. (A Marvel and Doom video game crossover) Bucky Barnes has been imprisoned on the Mars UAC facility after defying his CO. He's not imprisoned though, he's a fucking test subject for a squirrely scientist named Arnim Zola whose didn't stop to think about the consequences of messing with Argent energy. After a mysterious explosion destroys the facility and leads to the worst infestation known to man, SHIELD sends the Avengers, a Rapid Response Tactical Squad led by Steve Rogers to gather intel and lock down the facility.

#4: A roommate AU Bucky responds to Steve's ad for a new roommate. It turns out food isn't just good for the soul but a fast track to the heart of the hottest man Bucky has ever met. #5: Atlas Shrugged All eyes are on Steve who frankly does not give a shit. His eyes instead are on the shield, the gaudy thing they insist is his and expect him to pick back up again even thought he doesn't remember a thing about why he picked it up in the first place. Bucky says it was because he's an idiot and never knows what's good for him. But Bucky is the only one who is against him picking it up again. "It's not your job." Bucky had said one night when they both couldn't sleep. His metal hand nursing the bottle of Vodka while he looked downright miserable. Undecided Ship #1: A Marvel and Fallout crossover, staring all the Avengers but my main man, Bucky Barnes The second the platform stops moving, Bucky’s knees buckle and he drops to the ground hard and grasps at his chest. Just like the platform, his breathing has all but stopped, panic setting in.

He gasps and gulps and tears flow quick. In all his years he has never felt desperation and grief as he does right now. All he hears are his own choked sobs on top of the silent hill and it scares him how silent everything is. Anywhere he looks there are signs of death and destruction despite the regrowing nature. Skeletons litter the ground, all the families he had passed on his way to the Vault all those years ago, and all the workers, even the Vault-Tec guy.

Instead of standing, Bucky scrambles over to the dirt around the platform, searching desperately for any signs of footprints, of life.

There are none.

#fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #pinned #navigation #masterlist

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nitrateglow · 8 months

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Halloween 2023 marathon: 9-11

The Slumber Party Massacre (dir. Amy Holden Jones, 1982)

A serial killer breaks free from jail, but the local high school population could not care less. There's sex to be had and joints to be smoked at the latest slumber party. Anyone not invited to the party either aims to crash it (the horny high school boys) or stay at home trying not to think about how uncool they are (the new girl who's better at basketball than her catty peers). All will be drawn together once the killer makes his way into town with a handy power drill that totally won't be used inappropriately.

I saw this movie for the first time earlier this year and immediately fell in love with its goofy charm. Apparently, it was written to be a parody of slasher tropes. The movie isn't played for broad comedy, but the humor is ever present in both overt and subtle ways. There's also a blend of cattiness and affection between the female characters that reminds me of the sorority house dynamics of Black Christmas, and the dialogue is often hilarious.

However, for all the humor, there are some creepy moments. The Driller Killer's "love" monologue is skin-crawling-- even if it is followed by a glorious parody of "the killer should be dead but isn't" trope.

This is one I love showing to other people. Everyone usually falls over laughing by the end, so it's a great group movie, but even alone, it's a fabulous time. You can currently catch it on Tubi for free.

Eyes of Laura Mars (dir. Irvin Kershner, 1978)

Controversial fashion photographer Laura Mars starts having psychic visions of the murders of her associates right as the crimes are being committed. She and everyone she knows become suspects of the slayings. The police find it particularly interesting that Laura's photos, which pair high fashion with images of murder and violence, resemble the subsequent crime scenes. Confused and feeling guilty, Laura teams up with cynical investigator John Neville, hoping to track down the killer before she or anyone else she loves becomes the next target.

This is a new-to-me horror film I caught on Tubi. All I knew about Eyes of Laura Mars is that it was directed by Irvin Kershner, a journeyman filmmaker best known for The Empire Strikes Back, and written by John Carpenter (though tampered with by many before shooting began). The movie is essentially an American spin on the Italian giallo genre. You have the familiar setting of the fashion world, sexy models who become murder victims, a hapless protagonist drawn into the mystery, and some very nasty kills.

There's a lot I like about this film, but in the end it didn't completely work for me. Maybe it's because unlike the best giallo, the movie doesn't have that otherworldly, psychedelic vibe that makes an audience able to swallow the sillier parts of the story. This is a very grounded, gritty presentation of New York City, making the more outrageous things in the film (like the unexplained psychic powers) stand out and not in a good way. Faye Dunaway's performance also verges into unintentional camp, with her wailing like she's in a 1940s melodrama much of the time. And I love melodramatic 1940s movies with appropriately overheated performances, but when the rest of your story is trying to be more realistic, that approach just takes me out of it because it doesn't gel. (Don't even get me started on the final twist, which I can't decide if I find laughable or clever.)

And yet, this is hardly a bad film. What frustrates me so much about it is that there's a lot that's pretty great. The supporting characters aren't the deepest in the world, but they are likable, so when they got picked off, I actually felt something. The movie also has an appealing time capsule element in its presentation of NYC during the height of the disco era. The fashions and the music are dated in the best way.

Despite my complaint about Dunaway's campy moments, Laura Mars is an interesting protagonist. She takes her art very seriously despite the derision she receives from her critics. She doesn't allow anyone to push her around, be it her boozy ex-husband, hostile reporters, or the police. She clearly loves the models, make-up artists, and other associates who work with her, and Dunaway does well lending a genuine sense of bereavement to the character as her social circle gets picked off one by one. However, I feel like the movie doesn't do much with her and she doesn't really have an arc.

I just really wish this film were a better version of itself. However, I can definitely see myself rewatching it someday, so maybe knowing the twists will make me better appreciate what is there. I don't know.

The Curse of Frankenstein (dir. Terence Fisher, 1957)

From adolescence, Baron Victor Frankenstein has had one dream: to cheat death. He and his research partner Paul Krempe delve into the mysteries of life, managing to reanimate a dead dog. Paul is satisfied with this achievement, but like a Disney Princess, Victor wants more. Like, creating a superbeing from bits and pieces of corpses more. This does not end well. At all.

It isn't spooky season without some Hammer Horror. I really have a hard time picking a favorite Hammer film, but The Curse of Frankenstein is definitely up there. Peter Cushing is so perfectly amoral and charming as Victor Frankenstein. I love Colin Clive in the Universal movies, but Cushing is my favorite in the part.

I've always admired how this movie sets itself apart from the Universal series without overdoing the opposition. The Universal movies were influenced by 1920s German expressionism, whereas the Hammer films go for more of a Victorian gothic meets explicit (by 1950s standards) sex and gore vibe. The sets and costumes are always wonderful in these films. I really love Cushing's glorious jackets, particularly the emerald green one.

Curse is also interesting for its frame narrative with Frankenstein telling the story from prison the hour before he is to be guillotined for his crimes. No one believes there was ever a creature and Victor wants everyone to know that, hey, he didn't commit ALL the murders. What's most fascinating about the frame story is the way it presents Paul, Victor's former tutor and research partner. Throughout the story, Paul is an unheeded voice of conscience tormented by the crimes Victor commits to achieve his goals. It's also implied Paul is in love with Victor's fiancee Elizabeth, and that this passion ignites further resentment against Victor on Paul's part because Victor clearly does not care about Elizabeth at all but is going to marry her anyway.

The film ends with Victor begging Paul to tell the authorities about the Creature, but Paul acts as though Victor is insane or just making it all up. He doesn't want to save Victor-- but is that because he wants to see justice done? Or is he also tight-lipped because he wants to secure Elizabeth for himself and knows she'll feel too duty-bound toward Victor (who supported her and her destitute aunt during Elizabeth's childhood) to break off the engagement unless the groom-to-be is, well, headless? It's a wonderfully ambiguous touch and it makes Paul more than just a nagging moral center.

Anyways, this is a perfect Halloween movie. Don't miss it if you've never seen it!

#the curse of frankenstein #slumber party massacre #eyes of laura mars #thoughts #halloween 2023 marathon

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