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1025cherrystreet · 3 years

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funeral

y/n attends a funeral and feels hopeless after losing her best friend until she meets her late bsf's cousin Harry.

a/n: this is for @harrystylescherry Playlist Fic Challenge!!! this is inspired by the song Funeral by Phoebe Bridgers. i used the name Phoebe in the story but i wasn't picturing Phoebe Bridgers when I was writing that character, i just liked the name and decided to go with it! but, y'all can picture her however y'all like lol. i went from loving this story to hating it, but i hope y'all like it! any feedback is appreciated!! <3

**despite it being surrounded by depressing matters, it's actually a cute and fluffy story lol! just wanted to point that out because i, myself, kinda avoid reading sad stories

warnings: a LOT of talk about death and dying and funerals, mentions depression/depressive episode?, mentions drugs and alcohol, swearing. i'm ceo of rushing the ending, soz <3 (also, gave up on proofreading lmao)

word count: 8k+ (this is the longest piece i've ever written lol)

Y/N has this dream. Where she's screaming underwater while her friends are waving at her from the shore. She's desperately calling for them, hoping and waiting for them to help, but, seemingly, her friends can't hear... and can't help. Submerged beneath the thrashing waters, her wails fall silent; her familiars deaf to her pleads. The more she struggles to get to the surface for air, the deeper she sinks. Her friends just waving at her as she drifts to the bottom. Every time she jolts awake from these dreams in a sweat stained bed and sticky clothes, she decides to brush it off. Not wanting to think about the problems she needs to face or what she needs to work on. Always concluding that she doesn't need anyone to tell her what it means or overanalyze her life through misplaced visions. Deciding to not believe assumptions made from vague, painful pictures.

As the familiar sinking feeling in her chest starts yet again, Y/N snaps her eyes up at the casket as the sound of her best friend's mother releasing a heart wrenching sob catches her focus.

The contrast of the white roses that lay on top of Phoebe's mahogany stained casket almost glow in the evening light, seeming like a mock to such a somber evening. The way the living looks so effervescent and bright, casting shadows on the less fortunate. The dead never celebrated in such light but rather mourned in dim grief and sadness.

Y/N doesn't like funerals, and not just because her best friend of 10 years is the recipient of this one. She's never cared for them. Believing they're just an excuse to get over the one they are to be honoring, they carry a stigma that everyone in attendance has to cry or you're seen as heartless, while the people who were never close to the deceased are presumed fake for showing emotion. Y/N thinks they're a big joke... with a cruel, cruel punchline.

The sound of despondent music playing and cries ring throughout the cemetery as Phoebe's casket is lowered six feet into the ground. The unchecked emotions start to boil inside of Y/N. Anger boiling deep inside of her quickly reaching its point, anger that stems from betrayal, that stems from hurt, that stems from...loss. She quietly scoffs, shaking her head with a stone cold look, before quickly getting up and walking away from the ceremony as her late friend's uncle, Bill, wraps up his poor excuse of a eulogy.

Phoebe wouldn't have wanted this. She wouldn't have wanted people to cry over her casket, stuck laying in a padded box while people who don't even know the real her, speak of her existence like they were the best of friends. They weren't. She was. Y/N was her best friend. These people don't... didn't know her like Y/N does. It's all bullshit.

In Y/N's quick pace away from the tent around the damp open ground, she spots a bigger gravestone with a stone bench built into it and takes a seat.

She inhales deeply, taking a moment to herself to look up at the sky. The clouds that overcast part of the blue sky drifting farther away from the graveyard as the sun starts making its way to set. She breathes in, the delightful scent of honeysuckle and dewy grass filling her nose before it's tainted by fumes of petrol from the road just on the other side of the cemetery gates behind her. It's so unfair; why of all people did Phoebe have to-

"It's all a joke," A deep accent says to her left.

She almost jumps out of her seat when she turns to the man who took the empty spot next to her. Jesus Christ, where the fuck did he come from? she thinks to herself. He had brown curly hair and green eyes (well, thinking green from what she can gather staring at the side of his face), wearing a black suit with a black button up shirt underneath. Rings clad his fingers and the sunset gleam shines off his cross necklace. She stares wide-eyed at him for a few moments before shaking her head to get out of her daze.

"Huh?" She says when she realizes he had spoken before.

"It's all a big joke," He repeats himself, the British accent more noticeable this time around. His head faced towards the funeral, having not spared a glance at her once this whole time.

She settles back into her seat, shifting her gaze to match his with the group of mourning people in the distance.

"Yeah." Y/N sighs in agreement.

The two of them sit in silence for a moment before Y/N decides to speak. Thinking to herself that if anyone would listen to her thoughts, a man who's also ditching the shitty eulogy would be her best bet.

"They all talk about her as if she was God." She chuckles humorlessly.

He scoffs with a small smirk, "Far from it."

Another wave of silence crashes over them, before Y/N breaks it once again.

"She would've hated this," She whispers, "People she barely even knows crying over her like they had any significance in her life. She probably only talked to five people here. She didn't even like her uncle." She laughs, referencing the man who gave the half-assed eulogy about how Phoebe being such an innocent, bright young girl.

"They're grieving her loss instead of celebrating her life, it's all fucked," He clears his throat before continuing, "Funerals are for the living."

"I hate funerals..." She says in reply.

Glancing at the boy beside her when she hears him digging through his jacket pocket, pulling out a flask. He takes a sip, and another, before gesturing it to her. Not overthinking it too much, she takes the cool metal bottle and takes a big gulp. Tasting the burn of vodka in her throat and mint from what she supposes is the mysterious strangers mouth.

Handing the flask back she says, "She would've wanted a party. Something where everyone was having fun in her honor, not some substandard funeral full of random people and careless words."

This time he's the one who chuckles humorlessly, "Yeah, she would've wanted everyone t'take shots and dress up in fancy clothes n' wreak havoc on this fucking town,"

Y/N smiles at this because Phoebe really would. Phoebe was the type of person who everyone wanted to be friends with, but also who everyone was scared of. She was mysterious and intimidating (a bit like the man next to her, Y/N thinks). Phoebe was a master at persuasion and could get almost anyone to go on crazy fucking adventures with her. One of Y/N's favorite memories with Phoebe was when they dressed up in wedding dresses they had gotten from a second-hand store and walked down the street yelling random things at strangers, taking turns drinking tequila from a metal water bottle.

"She really was something else, huh?" Y/N says a bit somberly, reminiscing on her late best friend.

"Definitely, a know-it-all," He laughs, bringing the flask up to his mouth.

"Oh, of course, she always thought she was right." She smirks.

"I mean, most of the time she was." He shrugs.

"Yeah, how did she always know everything?" The two of you laugh, taking turns drinking from the flask.

He shakes his head in disbelief, silence settling over the pair again.

"How did you know her?" He asks, still staring at the gathering of people in the distance.

"...She was my best friend," Y/N responds quietly, still staring out at the sunset.

He hums in return, "You?" She asks as she hands the flask over.

"Her cousin." His rough voice speaks out.

"You're Harry?" She says, less as a question and more in disbelief. Phoebe always mentioned her cousin Harry from England, always telling Y/N of stories they had together getting into reckless shit.

She turns her head to look at him just as he does, "And you're Y/N."

He offers a soft, knowing smile, both having heard countless stories of one another from Phoebe. He leans back and extends his arm on the top of the bench behind her, feeling the warmth of his body radiate off of him.

"I wonder what she'd say to me now. Sitting on a random gravestone in our hometown, drinking out of her cousin's flask, ditching what's supposed to be her remembrance." Y/N says, leaning back on the bench too.

"She would've said, 'quit y'crying, it's a sign of the times' and then would drag your arse t'the nearest pub." He laughs.

She joins in on the soft laughter, shaking her head because she knows that's exactly what she would've said. Phoebe was such a joy to be around, her presence unmatched.

"You know, she always talked about wanting to leave a legacy behind. Most of the time, I just laughed at her, thinking it was just another bizarre thing to come out of her mouth. But, she was always saying she wanted to be remembered as some enigma when she dies..." Y/N recalls the many memories of her and Phoebe staying up til 4am talking. Chills suddenly covering her body, not only from the cool Winter air but because of how Phoebe had talked about her death and now she's actually...dead.

She turns her head to look at Harry and he has a bittersweet smile on his face.

"I think she's accomplished that quite well, hasn't she?" He replies.

"How?" She questions softly with furrowed brows.

"Well, f'starters, her funeral is full of people who never even knew her, or frankly even cared about her, while two emotionless people just got up and stormed away from it t'drink vodka out of a flask on some random person's gravestone." He laughs before tacking on, "Trust me, the people over there are wondering who the hell she was and who she knew, right about now."

She turns her head from the (quite pretty, she thinks) boy to her left, looking at the wake, only to be met with a few people staring back at them.

"Well, I'll be damned," She scoffs. "Of course, the bitch did it." A smile bright on her face, probably the only real grin she's pulled since Phoebe's passing. Her best friends wishes coming true makes her heart warm just a tad, a relief to how cold losing her best friend made it.

"Always able t'make her life seem like an episode of Pretty Little Liars." He says shaking his head with a knowing smirk.

This comment makes Y/N laugh quite loudly, drawing a few — what she could only think were glares — back at her. Wiping a stray tear from her face that fell due to her laughing. The sweet sound coming from her lips only tacking on Harry to join her.

"Oh my god, she practically lived in an indie movie, always the role of the mysterious main character!" She chuckled out, creases forming at the corners of her eyes that Harry has taken a liking to.

As both of their laughter slowly dies out, another silence comes over them; only this time it's almost deafening. It's like the weight of the matter finally settled in.

Harry lets out a deep sigh, staring out at the never ending field of stone. Flowers accompany very few of the many graves; some wilted, some looking fresh, some long gone by now. Name placards littering the ground, all of these lost and forgotten people just decomposing underneath them. People coming and going to visit, only to be forgotten as time goes by, memories fading from their loved ones' mind. He wonders if he could ever forget Phoebe. No, I could never, he thinks to himself. He could never forget the only person that ever truly believed in him and embraced him for being himself.

Deciding he doesn't want to give anymore thought to the painful insight that one day he might forget Phoebe, he asks Y/N something instead.

"Y'wanna get out of here? M'starvin'."

The quiet girl next to him looks his way, his green eyes meeting her's that shine in the last few minutes of orange sunlight. Her eyes are so pretty, he tries to mentally shake that thought out of his head. He can't be hitting on his late cousin's best friend at her funeral, for fuck's sake.

Y/N only nods in response, gathering her bag and phone before standing from the bench. Harry towers over her when he gets up and the observation of how tall her his makes Y/N feel all giddy inside for some reason. Placing the flask back in his suit jacket pocket, he leads the way to a small restaurant nearby. She walks beside him the whole way there, the two of them just quietly observing everything around them.

***

The crisp, cool air passes through, goosebumps creeping up their arms as they sit in the outside seating of a small restaurant. Comfortable silence wraps them up and spits them out as their minds explore all the vast depths of their troubled minds, giving them time for their treacherous thoughts to eat at their sanity bit by bit.

"Phoebe told me once," Y/N cleared her throat, trying to get rid of the scratchy feeling from not using it. Harry's green eyes moved to her from his observance of the lonely street they're next to as she spoke softly. "She told me the only time she truly felt alive was when she made decisions that were reckless and spontaneous. She said living her life precariously was the only reason for her happiness, claiming that the perfect life is just an illusion. That dreaming of labor should not be the goal, but instead becoming your authentic self and living with no regrets..."

Harry stays quiet, reflection in his eyes as he stares at her from across the table, chewing the food in his mouth. Y/N plays around with the food on her plate with her fork and waits for his acknowledgment (although, she doesn't even know if he would say or do anything -- she doesn't know why she decided to tell him that)

"I mean, she's right, righ'? I never understood when people would ask what your 'dream job' is from a young age. No one's dream is t'work everyday 'til they die. They have to, t'make a living and survive, but what's the point in living if you aren't enjoyin' it. But, if y'workin' all the time, how do you make the time to really live?" He says, furrowing his brows as he talks.

Y/N takes in his words. The moonlight and street lamps casting a soft glow on his face, his carved features looking even more beautiful at night.

"Yeah... I guess, I guess I just envy how she viewed life, ya know?" She states, looking at the cars drive by as she tries to explain how she feels. "Always saying things to make you rethink your existence and purpose..." She looks back at Harry and whispers, "...She talked about life so much like she knew she was going to die."

"Well, we're all gonna die eventually." Harry rests his arms on the table with a quiet sigh, his features passive, but his mind is thinking of how he just wants to hug her and tell her everything is going to be alright.

"Yeah, but she just...she talked about it like she knew all the answers. She knew exactly what to say, when to say it. Sometimes, I feel like she was telling everyone around her how to live in complete happiness because she knew she didn't have much of her own, despite convincing everyone she was carefree and unbothered." Y/N shrugs and watches as they fall into a short silence.

"...I miss her." Harry breathes out after a moment, reaching his hand across the table to hold hers. Her skin is soft against his as he rubs his thumb against her hand in an attempt to comfort both of them.

Her eyes soaking in his softened expression, her cherry tinted lips whispering, "Me too."

They eat the rest of their dinner in silence, the only sounds reverberating from the road with the occasional car or pedestrian. Harry pays for the food, but not without many protests from Y/N.

As the two walk side by side down the street, back to the cemetery to pick up their cars, Y/N suddenly falls anxious. She doesn't want to be alone tonight, scared of being alone with her thoughts when she goes back to stay in her childhood home. Her parents, still living in the house they lived in since her youth, had to drive up to another town for a few nights to stay with her cousins because they planned to go there before the news broke about Phoebe. Leaving Y/N alone in the empty house since there wasn't room for her at her cousins.

The black cemetery gates coming into view, eeriness and gloom becoming more apparent when the sun is down, Y/N and Harry can see their two cars sitting idly on the side of the road. Y/N fidgets with her fingers as they grow close to departure.

"D-do you, maybe, wanna hang out for a little while longer?" She turns to face him, looking up at him nervously. "I just don't want to be alone right now." She rushes out when he doesn't respond.

"Yeah, I didn't really want t'go home alone right now either." He offers a sliver of a smile before unlocking his car, grabbing two brown paper bags that look to hold bottles, and gesturing his head, "C'mon, we'll pick up my car later. Let's go celebrate Pheebz, yeah?" He grins.

She smiles at him, unlocking her own car and waiting for him to get in, putting on a playlist full of Phoebe's favorite songs. She drives through her hometown, memories stirring up of her and her best friend smoking weed in the park the summer before graduation and jumping in the lake naked in the middle of winter. The two end up at her house sitting in her abandoned driveway, both unbuckling but neither making the move to get out of the parked car, the engine still running as they sit listening to the melodies playing from the speaker.

Harry suddenly pulls out two bottles from the brown paper bags at his feet, one of vodka and the other tequila.

"Pick y'poison." He says with a smirk.

She picks the vodka and Harry mutters, "Good choice, tequila is more m'speed."

"Weren't you drinking vodka at the funeral?" She laughs, unscrewing the cap.

"Yeah, figured I'd drink Phoebe's favorite since it was her party." He chuckles.

"To Phoebe." Y/N says, sorrow lacing her voice as she turns in her seat to face Harry.

"To living your life precariously." He says before the two of them take a big gulp of the sharp liquid, starting what will only be the beginning of a long night.

***

Light shines through the white curtains, the room glowing bright in the soft, yellow sunlight. The white comforter tangled up in bodies as birds chirp in the morning tranquility. Y/N's eyes flutter open, immediately feeling sweaty and clammy. The headache that sets in reminds her of the amount of alcohol she consumed last night. Waking up in her childhood bed after blacking out in the backseat of her car the night before doing very little for her sanity.

As she lays in bed, groggy, she needs to pee. She moves to get up and walk to the bathroom connected to her room, only to freeze when an arm wraps around her and pulls her closer. Warm breathes pant at the back of her neck, unintelligible murmurs coming from the person behind her. Her eyes widen, realizing Harry is the one she is snuggling with in the early morning (afternoon?) light. Despite needing to pee really badly, she finds herself only melting into his touch. She can't remember the last time someone held her like this, can't remember the last time she felt this content. In fact, she thinks the last time she cuddled with someone was with Phoebe when she slept over in her room at their apartment... Well, just Y/N's apartment now.

Y/N and Phoebe would have movie nights in Y/N's room and in the midst of the fun, they would grow tired. Phoebe would never want to leave the comfort of Y/N's warm bed, so she always asked, sleepover?, with a wide grin. To which Y/N never refused and the two would put on The Notebook and fall asleep spooning one another. The first time it happened, when they were children having sleepovers, she tensed a bit; thinking it weird for her friend to cuddle her because no one had ever done that. But, as the years went by and their friendship grew stronger, knowing that despite both of them being bisexual it wasn't an act of intimacy, but one of platonic comfort.

So, Y/N figured (in her touch deprived mind) that this was just an act of friendly, platonic intimacy...nothing else. After coming to that conclusion, she let herself relax into his touch, his warm embrace nodding her off to sleep once again.

What wakes her up the second time is the sound of a gravelly voice groaning. The arm around her waist squeezes tightly before the body it's attached to tenses up. Harry tries to take in the position they're in -- his arm snuggling her close to his bare chest and legs intertwined with hers -- but his hangover headache clouds his mind too much to think about it. Only registering that he's never felt this comfortable with someone before, never felt someone so warm and cozy. He's cuddled lots of girls (and guys), has spent many mornings waking up in someones hold or holding someone in his, but they've never been as addicting as her. Never being so relaxing, so soft. He's about to just say, fuck it, and fall back asleep as to spend as much time with her in his clutch, but Y/N had stirred awake from his groaning and she really has to pee!

She slowly turns in his arms, their legs shifting apart, and is met with probably the cutest sight she's ever seen. His eyes are glassy and the green of his irises shine in the soft light. His lips pink and his face holding a hesitant look, like he thinks she might yell at him for accidentally ending up in his arms throughout the night, but she can also sense the underlying feeling of content reading on his face. The way his eyes soften when they meet hers and the way his hand involuntarily squeezes at her side. The serene feeling almost tangible as her childhood room becomes their own little world. All the responsibilities and pain of the outside fall ceased at the door decorated with heights of a growing Y/N.

"G'morning," His gravelly voice going straight to her heart, melting it at the beautiful sound.

"Good morning," She says in a raspy whisper, her throat dry from the alcohol and singing at the top of her lungs the night before.

She takes the quiet moment to look at his body, her gaze drifting from tattoo to tattoo, not realizing how many he has. She knew he had some from the ones on his hands yesterday, but she didn't know he had so many. His long sleeve button up had covered the view of the ones adorning his arms, but she looks at them now in awe, thinking how pretty they are.

She's about to tell him how much she likes the butterfly tattoo on his chest, when her bladder has other plans.

"I'm sorry, but I really have to pee," She bashfully smiles as she looks at him.

"Oh, m'sorry. Probably should've told ya' I'm a cuddler." He gives a small smile with embarrassment soaking his words, thinking he's made her uncomfortable.

"No need to apologize," Her eyes light up at his out of character shyness, "I am too, I just really have to go to the bathroom." The harmonious sound of her giggles soothing every worry in Harry's body.

He playfully sighs, "Fine, I guess I'll let y'go piss."

A smirk pulls at his lips as she rolls her eyes and gets up, but he can see the corners of her lips turn up.

She goes to the bathroom, doing her business and washing her hands. She takes the time to brush her teeth and wash her face, cringing when she looks in the mirror. She feels gross that she looked like this when Harry woke up with the resemblance of an angel.

When she's finished, she walks out back into her room, excited to get back into the warm bed (and hopefully cuddle with Harry some more, but she would never admit that out loud), but she's met with abandoned sheets and panic consumes her. Did he leave? Did I make him uncomfortable by waking up in his arms? He was the one to cuddle me and he joked about it! But maybe he was just trying to be nice so he could escape? Her mind starts to race a mile a minute of anxious thoughts before they're all suddenly wiped away at the smell of coffee wafting in from the open doorway.

She throws on a sweatshirt and socks and makes her way down the stairs of the familiar, yet foreign after spending so long away from home, house. Her sock clad feet pad on the hardwood floors as she walks into the kitchen, spotting Harry silently staring at a spot on the wall with a cup of coffee in his hand (he's using the same pink and green mug with a little ceramic pig sitting on the top of the handle that Phoebe would use every time she'd sleepover in high school).

She walks in quietly, coming up behind him and grabbing a cup of coffee for herself, noticing the two pain killers next to the pot (which made her heart swell if she's honest). He had heard her coming down the stairs, but despite her presence his focus is still on the spot on the wall. Taking a sip of her pick-me-up and swallowing the pills, she takes up space next to Harry, following his eyes that stare intently at a picture frame hanging up and her eyes immediately soften.

"That was freshman year," Y/N spoke delicately, staring at the picture herself, "We had both been asked to prom by these senior guys. I was ecstatic because no one had ever shown any liking to me, but Phoebe had played it cool, of course." Harry lets out a quiet breathy laugh because of course Phoebe didn't care.

"We spent weeks planning out how prom night would be. Imagining how the senior parties would be like and if the boys would kiss us by the end of the night or not. She came over at 9am the morning of the dance and we spent all day getting ready and laughing with each other. She had even done my makeup all pretty and I helped her get into her dress. I remember I laughed when she decided she was going to wear converse under her dress, and she almost convinced me to do it too because she said 'you're not gonna be the one laughing when we're at all the after parties and your feet are killing you'." A genuine smile forms on Y/N's face as she reminisces on the cherished moment.

"But, two hours before the dance, our dates cancelled on us and told us they were going with these senior girls." Harry scoffs bitterly, understanding how cruel teenage boys are.

"I remember I was so upset because the one time I thought someone actually liked me or thought I was pretty enough to go to prom with, had just made me a second choice..." She recalls to Harry, who is now looking at the side of her face as she looks at the picture of Phoebe carrying Y/N on her back, piggy-back style, in long prom dresses, dirty white converse peaking out from under both girls' dresses.

"So, she grabbed me by the arms and looked me in the eyes and said 'Y/N L/N, we are deserving of the love we wish for. No senior boys are going to make us doubt that. We are not little freshmen girls who can be seen as cheap thrills and easy hookups. We are women, who demand respect and complete infatuation.' Then she took the tickets that the boys had pre-purchased for us, took my hand, and dragged me to that dance. We had been each other's date and made prom our bitch. She even got us into a party afterward...And we had one hell of a night."

She smiles fondly at the sweet memory. Harry's eyes flutter between the picture and the beautiful girl next to him. How could she ever think of herself as a second choice?, is all he can wonder to himself.

Letting his gaze fall to the picture one last time, he mumbles, "Well, those boys missed out on the best thing t'ever happen t'them."

He doesn't catch Y/N's blush that creeps up on her cheeks as he turns around, taking a sip from his little pig mug.

She shakes her head as to get out of the crushing haze she falls into, turning and walking to the countertop, leaning against it as Harry stands in front of her on the other side.

"Thank you. F'letting me stay the night, last night." He speaks up.

Y/N notices how he's still lacking a shirt, making her mouth dry up just a little at the sight of how fit he is. The tattoos stretching across his tan skin so perfectly, the black ink creating such a beautiful contrast on his body. He catches onto the not-so-subtle gawking and smirks.

"Uh, yeah. It's really no problem. There's no way I'd have let you drive home intoxicated and it was the least I could do after I made you practically spend the day with me." She blushes.

"Y'didn't make me," He shakes his head gently with a smile.

Y/N doesn't know to feel about how her cheeks heat up at his remark, shyly looking away as the teasing gleam in his eyes might make her combust.

"O-okay. Good to know." She squeaks out, the action only fueling Harry's ego and playful mood.

"I should go get m'car from the cemetery before it gets towed," He says almost disappointedly, like he doesn't want to leave yet. If she's being honest, she doesn't want him to leave yet either.

"Yeah, that wouldn't be good. I'll give you a ride." She says, shaking off the saddened feeling of his departure.

"Oh, you don't have t'do tha'." He shakes his head but Y/N quickly shoots him down.

"Nonsense, I'll take you. It's no big deal."

He smiles at her objection, nodding, and going upstairs to grab the rest of his clothes, feeling uncomfortable in his dress pants from the funeral that he had put back on when he got up this morning, not wanting to make Y/N feel weird by staying in only his boxers.

***

Vodka Lover: hey... are you up?

She chews on the skin around her thumb, a nervous habit that Phoebe had always teased her about, as she sends the text to Harry (having exchanged numbers when she had dropped him off at his car at the cemetery). Phoebe had always said, 'You're not gonna have any thumb left to chew, babes, if you keep at it'. To which Y/N just rolled her eyes, but in the deafening silence of 4am, she wishes she cherished those moments with her best friend more. Wishing she didn't take for granted in those little encounters of Phoebe's care and concern with her well-being. Y/N would give anything to be able to spend one more minute with her.

Butterfly Boy: yeah, everything okay?

Vodka Lover: um, can i call you?

Suddenly, breaking the bitter quiet with a ringtone, her phone she holds in her palm lights up with Harry's contact. A tear falls from her face onto the screen and she has to wipe it away before she presses accept.

"Y/N?" Harry's deep voice rings out, laced in worry, from the other line.

She chokes out a sob, not being able to hold it back anymore. The floodgate of her emotions she has been trying to keep at bay suddenly burst. Salty tears fall onto the blue fluffy blanket from her senior year she's wrapped up in.

"Hey, hey, s'everythin' okay? What's wrong?" Harry says, more alert now that he hears her in such a fragile and frantic state.

Y/N just cries harder, desperately trying to catch her breath, she feels like she's suffocating.

"Hey, love, just breathe. Just breathe, Y/N." He tries to coax her down in a soothing voice.

A raggedy breath is heard on Harry's side, making the worry dissipate just a little now that he knows she's breathing. Harry sits up in his bed, calling out to Y/N, repeatedly telling her to just keep breathing. He can't get to what's wrong if she hyperventilates.

He was laying restless in his bed when she had texted, lost in thoughts of life and replaying memories with his cousin. Trying to grasp everything she's ever told him before, hoping that by watching the moments he spent with her like a film reel in his mind would help him not forget them.

"Love, can y'tell me what's got you so upset? Please," He asks softly when she calms down enough where her breathing is regular and not sporadic inhales gasping for air.

"I-I-I miss her," She cries out into the phone, the thought of embarrassing herself by breaking down to Harry not on her mind; the only thought she has is how empty she feels.

"I know, I know, love. I miss her, too," He sighs out sadly, wishing he could take away her pain, hating the way her voice quivers with every word. "Do you want t'talk about it?"

She wipes the tears that sting her eyes and cascade down her face with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. The one she wore when Harry slept over, smelling a little like him still from the car ride to his car that day, three days ago.

They had been texting each other and talking every day since then, usually about light topics like asking how their day's were or what they were doing. However, tonight (or early morning), everything felt like it was crashing down on her. Y/N's strong front she had put up since the funeral for Phoebe's family finally collapsed, and she's found herself stuck under the rubble. She was trying so hard to keep it in because she shouldn't be feeling sorry for herself when someone's kid is dead.

She had bored herself to tears, not knowing what to do. The only thing that seemed right was to call Harry.

"Talk to me, babe." He begs her, running a hand through his disheveled curls.

"I-" She sniffles, "I feel like I'm fucking drowning,"

He hates how defeated her voice sounds and he wishes he could just be there to hug her and tell her everything's going to be okay, eventually.

"It-it feels like my whole life is in ruins. Harry, I miss her." Her face scrunches up again as she starts to sob, "Sh-She was my best friend, I d-did everything with her. How am I s-supposed to do this without her? How am I supposed t-to live without her?"

"Oh, darling. I know, but you will..and you can." He frowns, racking his brain for the right thing to tell her, "You got t'live so you can experience all those ways of life she always talked about. Y'haven't experienced all those feelings Pheebz would mention when she would live her life precariously. Don't y'want to know how she felt when she would talk of such a beautiful life she lived, yeah?"

He hears a hiccup and a quiet, albeit breathy, yeah, from the other side of the call.

"You are so strong, Y/N. I don't know how y'made it this far without breaking down..." He tells her whole-heartedly.

"D-don't know how you haven't either," She gets out, realizing how selfish she's probably being, bothering Harry with her grief when he has his own to deal with.

"Honestly," He breathes out through a somber smile, "The only reason I haven't is because I have you, love."

Y/N's heart swells tenfold, she thinks. She didn't realize Harry needed her just as much as she needed him.

"...I'm sorry for calling you, I know it's late." She says through sniffles when she notices the time.

"There's no reason to apologize. It's okay, love. It's okay to hurt or be angry or upset. No one expects you to be perfect all the time." He pauses, listening to her breathing.

"Ya know, one day, it won't hurt this much. One day, you'll be able t'look back at this moment and it won't break y'heart as much as it does now. You're just in the thick of it right now, pretty girl. But, the light's coming soon, I promise." He continues and Y/N feels her heart beat faster at the pet name.

"You promise?" Her voice barely above a whisper and Harry thinks his heart just broke at the sound.

"Promise." He says, wiping the stray tears rolling down his cheeks, "Phoebe wouldn't want y'to be this upset. She would want you to keep living your life and find out the ways to how she was so in love with it. If not for yourself, love, then for her...F'me."

She nods, despite knowing he can't see. Silence falls over the pair, only the sound of bated breaths assuring the other one is there.

"One summer," He speaks up, "One summer, my family had come t'visit them, partly because of the lake near her house. It was after we had moved t'the States from Cheshire, and Phoebe and I would go walk to the little pond near the park,"

"The one near Hope?" She asks quietly if they had gone to the park she had always played at as a little girl.

"Mhm. We would walk there in the blistering sun and when we got there she tried to convince me how fairies were real." He said in a calm voice.

He hears an airy puff of breath escape her mouth, which he takes as a small giggle -- making him want to continue his story as it's helping her cheer up, and because he'd probably do anything to hear her that sound from her.

"Yeah, fairies. She told me that they live at the pond and t'see them, I would have to find a pretty flower and then jump in the water with it in only m'underwear." He breathes out a laugh.

Y/N gasps, trying to keep quiet but fails when she lets out a loud laugh.

"Oh my, did you do it?" She asks bewildered, laying down so her head rests against the pillow.

"So, I told Phoebe 'no way', yeah? But, then she said she can't just tell me about them and not follow through with seeing them. Convinced me that it would bring bad luck." He scoffs, remembering the memory vividly.

"Bad luck, indeed." She giggles and it brings the dimple out on Harry's face.

"Yeah, so of course, me being like 8 or sum', I stripped down to m'pants in the middle of the day and jumped in the water." He smiles when he hears her laughing, even if it's at his expense. "Y'laughing, but I think I got ringworm after tha'!"

"I can't believe she got you to do that! I wish I'd been there." Y/N says, out of breath from laughing.

"Scarred me of ponds for the rest of m'life." He chuckles and a pause takes them both over as they settle back down.

"...Thank you, H." She whispers into the phone, adoration taking up all her features.

“F’what?”

“For being you, for being here. Just...Thank you.” She sighs.

They get lost in recalling stories of their loved one for the rest of the night, repainting her memories in gold. They laugh with each other until all the pain seems to disappear. The weight, of what felt like the world, lifting off of both their shoulders. Finally being able to breathe after days of endless battles of trying to stay strong for Phoebe's sake.

***

Days pass since the lonely 4am phone call and Y/N and Harry are still talking everyday.

She finds out he lives in her city, only a few blocks from her apartment she shared with Phoebe! She didn't believe him when he first told her, but he said he was always busy with college whenever Phoebe tried to meet up. Y/N's not going to lie, her heart picked up when she found out he'd be so close to her, wondering if he'd want to hang out with her when they leave her hometown.

Almost everyday of the last few days they have visiting, they've spent at Y/N's empty childhood home. Harry asking her to explain pictures and what she was like in high school, whenever he gets the chance. In turn, she's been picking his mind on what Holmes Chapel was like and how his family was growing up. She found out that he lived with his sister, Gemma, and his mom, Anne. They talked about everything, from their favorite things to every pet they've ever had (Y/N, particularly, falling in love with the pictures of his cat, Evie).

Just as the last few days have been spent, they are spending Y/N's last day in her hometown together before she goes back. Harry told her he had to stay a couple more nights with his family before he could leave, assuring her he would've gone back with her if he could've. That comment made her blush and she had to pray the butterflies growing in her tummy to relax.

That's another thing. Y/N had stopped lying to herself and denying the ache in her chest that would form when she was away from Harry, growing very fond of him since their first encounter at the headstone bench.

Harry, also, couldn't deny any longer the way his heart would flutter at every little thing she did. Just wondering to himself how everything about her was just so pretty. He loved the way her eyes would light up every time she saw him and how he would catch her checking him out whenever he took off his shirt.

He especially loved the way she let him sleepover a few times and how they would end up cuddling into the late hours of the morning. Both parties not minding one bit, the comfort and warmth actually preferred than sending Harry home to sleep in his own bed.

"Bet I can reach that branch right there," Harry shouts with a gleeful tone, a bit out of breath as he tries to stretch his legs far enough so his shoe brushes against the leaf on the end of the tree branch.

The two of them decided to go to Hope park, where they both held fond childhood memories at. They settled at the swingset, calm swaying in the seats quickly turning into a competition of who could swing the highest. Harry won of course, his legs being much longer than hers giving him the advantage. Playful giggles and sweet conversations of things occurring in that moment help distract them from both Phoebe and the fact that Y/N is leaving.

Y/N is distracting herself from worrying about if Harry will reach out to her when they get back to the city, if he even wants to talk to her again after this weekend or if this was all just out of politeness.

Harry, on the other hand, is distracting himself from wondering if she fancies him. He wonders if the cuddles and small touches meant as much to her as they did him, if after this weekend she would want to hang out again or if she was just being nice because he knows what she's going through.

"Bet I can reach it before you!" She giggles as her hair whips around in the wind she's created. Pumping her legs back and forth, desperately trying to get higher so she can beat Harry in her made up competition.

"Now, love, not everything has to be a competition," He huffs, really reaching out this time, "But, I wanna win, if we're playing a game, I wanna win." He grins, the cute dimple that Y/N has fallen for making an appearance on his face.

The two try their hardest to be the first ones to touch the tree branch hanging not too far from their swinging feet at their highest point. Harry, however, attempts a little too hard and flies off the swing when he lifted up his leg to make the two inch gap he was short of.

Tumbling to the woodchip covered ground, he ends up laying on his back. Groans spill out of his mouth and Y/N's eyes go wide with concern. She slows herself down just enough to safely jump off the swingset, rushing to Harry's side.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" She asks worriedly, trying to hold back the laugh that's trying to bust out. Crouching down to him, she runs her hand over his arm that's grabbing his leg.

He rubs his knee with a pained smile, "Yeah, just peachy, pet."

"Is anything hurting? Bruised?" She questions with a loving smile.

"Just my ego," He chuckles, looking up at her and admiring her caring nature.

She can't hold it in anymore, she laughs loudly at his comment, her carefree happiness making Harry's ears perk up and his heart warm.

"Yeah, love, just laugh at the crippled man." He jokes, smiling up at her happy face, wishing it could stay that way forever.

She lets out another laugh at his comment, delicately grabbing his arm to help him up, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. It wasn't funny," She attempts to calm herself but fails, "Okay, it was a little bit funny!"

Giggles fall out of her mouth as Harry brushes off the mulch from his jeans, "See how much you're laughing when I push you out of the swing."

"I'm soo scared." She mocks fear.

"Oh, just wait, pet. You'll never be safe on another swing set again." He playfully grabs her sides to tickle her, but her fighting his tries just ends up bringing her closer in his hold.

Their laughs quickly die out when they realize he's holding her in his clutch, his hands at her waist, hers around his neck. Harry stares into her eyes as she stares back into his. The empty park is serene, no other noises besides the chirping of birds and the sounds of other animals sprawling about. The sweet moment causes Y/N's breath to hitch and her palms to sweat. They've only been this close when cuddling, she's never been this close to his face before. His features glow in the sunlight, his green irises complimenting the bounce of his skin and dark eyelashes. Her skin is soft and warm against his, and he just wants to lean in and-

Y/N's eyes flutter close as Harry's face comes closer, his lips meet hers in a gentle caress. With the sweet kiss, he takes note of how soft her lips are, how warm and fuzzy her intimate touch is making his head. While one hand is squeezing at her side, the other is brought up to cradle her face and she leans into his touch. Harry sucks on her bottom lip before peeling away so they can catch their breath.

Y/N lets out a whine at the loss of contact, her bottom lip jutting out as he pulls away.

"What are y'pouting for, pet? W-was that not okay? Should I not have done tha'?" The blood almost drains from his face at the pouty look on her beautiful face.

She shakes her head at him, "No, I liked it. I want more," She pants, pulling him by the collar of his shirt to bring him back to her lips.

He chuckles at her cute antics (and in relief of not fucking up his shot with her). He smiles against her lips as he melts back into her, her hand around his neck reaching up to tangle in his curly hair. He groans when her nimble fingers pull tenderly at the curls at the base of his neck, causing him to squeeze her side gently.

She breathlessly kissed him, slotting her lips between his and immediately opening her mouth in acceptance when he brushes his tongue against her bottom lip in a silent ask to take it further. As the kiss deepens, the need for air increases. They naturally separate, Harry sucking her bottom lip as he goes until it pops back.

Taking in her reddened swollen lips and her pretty flushed face, he presses one last chaste kiss on her lips, and one to her cheek and her nose.

A big, genuine grin adorns Y/N's face as she stares up at the man in front of her.

"Thank you f'letting me do tha'." He says with a gravelly voice.

"I've been thinking about you doing that since the first night you stayed at my house." She tells him bashfully.

"Me too, love. And it was better than I ever expected," He says whole-heartedly, leaning in to press one more quick kiss to her lips again.

"So, does this mean we're gonna hang out when we both go back home? Because I really want to do that again." Her glassy eyes blink at him with hope awaiting his answer.

He smiles and shakes his head, bewildered at how she could ever think that he could just ghost her after that, "I think Phoebe would come back just to slap me upside the head if I ever kissed her best friend and just never saw her again."

She chuckles at his comment, shyly looking down to her hand on his chest when he doesn't say anything else.

"Of course, I want to hang out when we get back. I want to take y'out on a real date, if you'd let me." He looks at her all starry eyed, squeezing her waist.

"I think Phoebe would come back and slap me upside the head if I ever kissed her cousin and just never saw him again," This time he's the one that laughs.

"I'd love that very much, Harry." She beams up at him.

Going back home couldn't come sooner to the both of them.

******************

ahhh i hope y’all liked that, i’d love feedback :) i’m thinking of making a series out of it, but only if that’s something y’all would like! so, pls let me know if you enjoyed it or if i should make a part 2 ??

anyways, stay safe and much love <3

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spiked-tea-writing · 3 years

Text

and they were roommates?!

SapnapxFem!Reader

Summary: Imagine being in love with your roommate, couldn't be you.

Pronouns: She/her

Warning: Swearing

Word Count: 2.3k

A/n: I don’t watch or know anything, I just like these people and I had a concept. Also, he and Dream aren’t roommates in this for the sake of I can’t figure that out. Also also, my timeline is probably fucked but who cares

The dynamic in the apartment was...interesting to say the least

In the two years of living together, it had shifted a lot

In the beginning, you and Sapnap had been... less than cordial to each other

Both eighteen, fresh out of high school, off to college thinking that you knew everything.

There was lots of fighting, to say the least.

All of the “No it’s your turn to vacuum”, and “I swear to god Sapnap I will punt you halfway across the world if you eat my pineapple again”

The only reason you didn’t slit each other’s throats was that if the other person was dead, who would pay rent?

It was the summer before college started at the time, and you were working long hours minimum wage so coming]’/ home to an annoying prick caused a crap ton of conflict

After a few months of being little bitches to each other, y’all got piss drunk in the apartment and it all just sorta fell apart

Got that good drunk therapy, spilling your deepest secrets

(y’all were underage but shhh)

So by the time college started, the two of you had become actual friends and started enjoying each others company

A few months into the friendship, you encouraged him to post the video of “Minecraft, but it’s Raining Cats and Dogs” on a whim

Lmao little did you know what you had created (we’ll get to that later)

You mocked his train of thought constantly, laughing at the timing of it all.

“Ahhh yes, I am Sapnap, the genius who thought it’d be great to become a YouTuber while in my first year of college.”

He’d always just laugh and roll his eyes, playfully shoving you while stealing your chips.

The next few months were a haze of studying, work, and him.

It was truly a friendship of convenience since you guys were so busy, him starting his youtube career, and you working restaurants, then school on top of that, it was just easy to find friendship in your roommate.

Of course, he had his close friends which he spoke to over the internet, and you had your friends from back home, but as for college, it really was only him.

You guys had a fun time just hanging around the apartment, and it became so easy to be friends with him

And it WAS truly platonic (we’ll get back to that as well)

The best thing he brought to the friendship was his animals

You got on fabulously with Cash and the cats

They were all so cuddly and honestly loved you more than him lmao

You guys were just trying to get degrees and not be too stupid, was that too much to ask???

Well to a certain 2020, it was

The beginning of that year was great.

He was sorta realizing that he liked putting himself on social media, but on top of that, it seemed like a great start to a year.

February brought him to twitch, which you loved

You found it hilarious how he would just sorta play games and have people watch him live.

But you were incredibly supportive, as a friend, of course

He really liked it so, you tried to ignore the shouting at three am, and the loud anthems at night

Sure you’d give him hell in the morning, but why kill his fun?

March started great, as it was his birthday.

You got him a glittery lighter as a gag, but it was the perfect gift for a broke-ass college student

Then a certain pandemic came a-knockin’ on y’all’s door

It was a hard hit on both of you.

An executive decision was made that you two would stay put, but being away from your families was incredibly tough.

That spring was the birth of The SMP.

It brought him so much joy, which in turn made you happier.

The rest of the school year was a blur of zooms and test

Nick nearly killed you on multiple occasions when you made fun of the fact that he was learning computer science over the computer or made him help you figure out what the fuck zoom was since it was tangentially related to his major

“SAP HELP ME YOU SHOULD KNOW THIS ITS YOUR FUCKING MAJOR!!!”

“NO, IT’S- AHHHHHHHHH”

Yall got more than a handful of noise complaints shhhh

That summer was fill was spent trying to fill the time in weird ways

Note to self, he can’t cook (which you learned the hard way)

Yall spent so much time trying to cook and bake, then sweating off the calories working out with The Fitness Marshall lmao

As sucky as the situation was, that summer was so incredibly fun for the both of you, and truthfully the only arguments were about what music to blast

“Y/n I swear if I listen to Cosmicandy one more time I will drown you.”

“Well if I hear American Idiot one more time someone’s knee caps are getting harvested.”

(that argument was settled with Elton John.)

When school started up again that fall, something shifted

After a year of actual friendship, you guys were no longer just friends, and the tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife

You had watched every single one of his streams since day one, but within 2 seconds of his Love or Host, you felt the need to hurl for some peculiar reason

It was bizarre because there was no way you could ever like him, of course not.

Within the apartment, you guys suddenly got a lot more touchy, but only because it was getting cold with winter and all that jazz.

It wasn’t because yall were secretly in love, what is this, a romcom?

The number of times you guys woke up on the couch, definitely not cuddling was too many to count

You started sitting in his room while he streamed, definitely not watching him with heart eyes because of how excited he got

He always had a pot of coffee full and a 6-pack of monster in the fridge since he knew you ran on spite and caffeine, and definitely not so that he could spend more time with you in the early hours of the morning.

The laundry started getting all mixed around, resulting in just sharing any sweats, hoodies, or socks.

The same thing went for food.

No longer was anything labeled with a name, if it was in the fridge, it was fair game (unless there was a post-it because come on, yall weren’t monsters)

But no, y’all were just roommates, not dating, lets make that clear.

Feelings? We don’t know her.

This entire time, his friends have had to hear about you rip.

But they got front row seats to your relationship development

“OMG my roommate is the worst she ate all of the frozen strawberries”

“Y/n kidnapped Storm all day while she studied and I thought I lost the fucking cat asjvdk”

“I had to run down and talk to the landlord because we dropped a pot of pasta sauce all over the carpet and couldn’t get the damn stain out.”

“She is so nice in preparation for a family dinner zoom, she ran out to the local Filipino food place and pick stuff up.”

“Sorry I’m late I overslept and didn’t want to wake up Y/n.”

They weren’t stupid, and could clearly see how whipped he was.

Dream and Geroge teased him about it constantly.

“Woah, calm down Sap, you should probably tell her you love her before you propose.”

“Yeah Dream’s right, it’s kinda weird that you’re living together before ever dating.”

He always flushed and denied it with a shake of his head.

He wasn’t into you, are they crazy?

Quackity and Karl messed with him in more unorthodox ways

There are a solid number of clips where they are fake crying over how he’s cheating on them, and even more tweets to match

It only got worse when you met them accidentally.

He was chatting post-stream on a video channel with George, Dream, Karl, and Quackity, and just his luck, you came into his room.

Like of all the times you could walk in, it was the time he was with his five closest friends but I digress

“Yo I got some extra tips yesterday so I picked up some extra Red Bull if you want to do one of your weird all-nighter streams.”

“Y/n I’m on channel.”

“Oh shit sorry my b. Catch.”

All the guys heard was a thud and a groan from Sapnap as the six-pack hit him in the chest.

Dream was the one to recognize your name.

“WAIT IS THAT Y/N I WANT TO MEET THEM!”

You could hear Dream’s voice through his headphones

“Sap… who is that?”

“No one. I’ll be out in a sec to help with dinner.”

You could hear a British voice come through.

“Oh so we are no one now, huh.”

Another voice piped through.

“Common... ¿Qué intentas ocultar?”

You cut in.

“Your headset it shit my guy. I can hear everything. I’m down to talk to them.”

He let out a groan.

“Fine. But you’re gonna have to do the dishes tonight.”

“Deal. Now move.”

“What? No.”

“Fine bitch.”

You collapsed onto his lap, plucking the headphones off of him.

“Hello, Sapnap’s friends. I am Y/n. A pleasure to meet y’all. Can you hear me?”

You heard a series of laughs through the headset, and a voice came through.

“Yes, we can see you too. I’m Karl, it’s so nice to finally meet his girlfriend.”

A blush rose on both of your faces, and another voice came through.

“Yeah, we’ve heard lots about you. Plus we can’t see your face in that picture Sap sent us. I’m Quackity”

That remark stopped your embarrassment in its tracks.

“What the fuck? How do you guys know me? I’m not even his girlfriend? And what picture?”

Sapnap grabbed your arm to calm you down as another voice cut in, but his one you recognized as his friend Dream.

“Hey, it’s okay. He just talks about you a bit, and the picture I believe was of you holding like three cats with like a red bull can on your head.”

“Jesus fucking christ why do they have that photo??”

He looked guilty but chuckled.

“Because that photo is a damn masterpiece.”

Karl’s voice came back in with a giggled.

“Soooo, Y/n we’d love to hear about you. Specifically anything funny or embarrassing that you have learned by living with him.”

Sapnap let out a groan from behind you as you went off.

“WELL lemme tell y’all, he has no cooking knowledge, well I mean, now he does, but one time, about a year ago, I had I been keeping a pot of water boiling for about an hour, soft boiling eggs, cooing noodles, blanching bok choy, etc. but this fucking genius is like ‘oH tHe HaNdLe Is StIcKiNg OuT. LeMmE mOvE iT wItH mY bArE hAnD.’ Needless to say, he burnt the crap outta his hand and kept the bag of frozen blueberries on it for the entire night. It took me like a solid five seconds to actually help him because I was laughing.”

By the time you had finished that story, you had seen Nick roll his eyes like 5 five times while the rest of the guys were wheezing.

“Yeah, well remember the time you were trying to imitate Rapunzel after we had watched it over Zoom with my sister, and you swung the edge of the frying pan into our head and got a nasty bump on it? At least I moved quick enough to put some ice on it.”

“Ice? It was the damn leftover Slushy that I had been freezing.”

“True, but you got to drink it after, so it was a win-win situation.”

“Sap, I had a bump the size of a golfball coming off of my temple. There was no winning.”

“Fine, you’re just making me sound like such a shit roommate.”

“No that’s not true, you do all of the talking to the landlord, and you at least tried to muffle the noise when you stream.”

“I guess that’s true, but you do like 80% of the cleaning.”

“Yeah but only because you’re working. Plus in the past 6 months, you’ve made coffee every morning, AND made sure I was taking my meds.”

“Those things aren’t that hard and I do it to make sure you don’t die because I lo- care about you.”

“What?”

You heard Dream’s wheeze laugh and remembered that you guys were still on call.

“Smooth.”

You both went red, and Sap moved his arm around you to leave the channel.

The next few moments were complete torture, the two of you just sitting in silence.

You were wondering if he meant what he was about to say and he was scared that you had heard it.

He was the one to break the silence. (mind you you’re still sitting on his lap lmao)

“I’m sorry about that.”

You weren’t sure how to respond. Should you ask him if he meant it? Because that wouldn’t be that bad. Or just pretend it never happened. Nah that’d be hella awkward. Or-

“I love you too.”

“You what?”

Wow, okay your brain is being a little bitch rn, but fuck it. Balls to the walls baby.

“I love you, and I have for a while now. I just want you to know.”

You finally looked him in the eye, and he was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“Thank god. I love you, and nearly fucking told you for the first time in front of my friends accidentally. Damn, I’m smooth.”

You laughed and he smiled wider.

“Can I kiss you?”

After a quick nod he swooped in and holy hell his lips felt great. His arm wound around your waist and your hands made their way to his jaw as he pulled you closer to him.

The only thing playing in your mind was “and they were roommates”

#sapnap x reader #sapnap #sapnapxreader #sapnap fluff #sapnap fanfic #sapnap fanfiction #sapnap x you #sapnap x y/n

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kayliemusing · 3 years

Text

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you? - If you're talking about aliens or ghosts, yes lol

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you? - 3. I can manage but sometimes I get unnerved, especially if I'm alone in the dark outside

3. The person you would never want to meet? - Anyone who could hurt me

4. What is your favorite word? - Wonderstruck. I also like the word 'elegance' bc I like the way it sounds.

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be? - cherry blossom tree

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought? - 'Ew'

7. What shirt are you wearing? - I'm wearing a blue sweater

8. What do you label yourself as? - A few things: a romantic, writer, daydreamer, perfectionist, etc

9. Bright room or dark room? - Bright

10. What were you doing at midnight last night? - Heading to bed

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far? - I think I liked being seventeen, but I can't really remember

12. Who told you they loved you last? - My mom probably lol

13. Your worst enemy? - My sister's abusive ex

14. What is your current desktop picture? - A forest

15. Do you like someone? - No one in my real life, but I've developed a sudden crush on Evan Peters in the last 24 hrs lmao

16. The last song you listened to? - The Last Great American Dynasty by Taylor Swift, I think

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? - My sister's ex

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face? - My sister's ex

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? - Idk if I'd have a slave tbh lol

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional) - My hair, I guess

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do? - I'd probably look like myself, but maybe taller and obviously more masculine. I don't know what I'd do. I don't think I'd be a writer, because maybe my experience would be different. So...not sure.

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it? - This is weird and if anyone asks me, I'll deny it, but I can make stomach grumbling noises without opening my mouth. Honestly not hard to do, but I think I'm really good at it lmao

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? - I don't really have a unique fear. I think what I'm afraid of is normal. I'm super afraid of failure, loss, and getting older bc I feel like growing old comes with loss. Terrified of spiders and most bugs. Deep water bc I can't swim well. So...Pretty basic I think.

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal. - A standard PB and J.

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it? - I'd probably just take it to the bank and put it in my bank account, which would most likely end up going towards makeup, books, skincare or clothes.

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go? - Maybe NYC? Or totally the opposite and going somewhere super quiet and beautiful, like a countryside in England or France lol.

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be? - I feel like an angel wouldn't offer me that, but maybe a dessert wine. I'm not really a fan of alcohol so Idk what else I'd choose lol.

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? - Everyone listens and loves Taylor Swift, if not, you're going to jail

29. What is your favorite expletive? - 'bitch' I think lol

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno? - My laptop

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? - Probably an embarrassing moment. I would want to erase traumas but then I feel like that would actually end up messing everything up. i.e., would lead to confusion or misunderstandings about love, etc.

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world! - Interesting. I'm not sure what the question is, but if I could move anywhere else in the world, I'd probably move to a big city like NYC, Vancouver, or LA OR I'd go the opposite and move to a super cozy cottage in a countryside somewhere.

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back? - My dad

34. What was your last dream about? - Last night I had this bizarre dream that I was camping with Matthias from YouTube and he was being super mean to me lmao. Then all of a sudden I was in Calgary with my sister and we were just like wandering around.

35. Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]? - I feel like you're asking if I'm a good person, to which, I think yes.

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital? - No

37. Have you ever built a snowman? - Yes

38. What is the color of your socks? - I'm not wearing any, but they're usually white or black.

39. What type of music do you like? - Pop, Alternative/alternative pop, folk, country, country-pop, some 80s stuff, acoustic, etc. I span through a few genres, but I think I like something with a catchy melody and good songwriting.

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets? - Sunrises

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor? - Vanilla, bc i'm basic

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer) -I don't watch football oops

43. Do you have any scars? - A few. Mostly acne scars rip, but also a big scar on my elbow from when I fell off my bike when I was a kid. I have a few chickenpox scars on my forehead that like to peak out every now and again too.

44. What do you want to be when you graduate? - I already graduated High School, but I just applied to college so the plan is to be a Copy Editor and a novelist on the side.

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? - That I had a flat stomach

46. Are you reliable? - Tbh no. I think I'm pretty flaky :/

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be? - How did it turn out?

48. Do you hold grudges? - Yes, unfortunately

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create? - Maybe like a bird and a chinchilla or a fox or something so it would be like this flying fox thing. Idk. I saw a fantasy drawing on pinterest of a bird/something-else and it was super cute.

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had? - I don't know actually lol

51. Are you a good liar? - No, because I get super nervous and can't make eye contact or I start smiling. Even worse, sometimes it's both.

52. How long could you go without talking? - I'm pretty quiet, so a long time. Maybe a day, but not two days lol.

53. What has been you worst haircut/style? - I got a perm when I was in the sixth grade and everyone laughed at me so.

54. Have you ever baked your own cake? - Yes

55. Can you do any accents other than your own? - Not well, but sometimes I like to butcher a British and Australian accent. Usually happens when I'm alone which is worse.

56. What do you like on your toast? - Usually I'll just put margarine on it or jam. If I feel like being fancy, I'll put brown sugar and cinnamon on it.

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of? - I probably doodled some hearts not too long ago

58. What would be you dream car? - Probably a red 1960-70s chevy convertible.

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain. - I talk to myself in the shower a lot which is weird but i'm just kinda processing my thoughts out loud lmao. Sometimes I'll sing or hum to myself.

60. Do you believe in aliens? - That would be a hard no.

61. Do you often read your horoscope? - No, unless it's in a fun meme like the signs as tv shows or something

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? - I have never thought about this before tbh. Maybe S? or R? or C? Idk

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons? - Dragons

64. What do you think about babies? - Cute

#survey

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smallcowplant · 4 years

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[ P A R T T W O ]

my favorite thing is monsters (book one) by emil ferris 🧟‍♀️🔍🧛‍♀️

quick synopsis: adult (coming-of-age story from the perspective of a young girl, but definitely targeted at an older audience)/graphic novel. set in late 60′s chicago, the fictional graphic diary of ten year old karen reyes recounts her experiences as she tries to solve the murder of her beautiful and enigmatic upstairs neighbor, a holocaust survivor.

page count: 416

rating:★★★ (this is a hard rating for me...think 3.7-3.9....oscillating to a 4....4.2....I don’t know, man)

review: I keep doing this fun and cool thing where I buy a book without realizing it’s the first in an (unfinished) series, and then end up being cast woefully adrift by reality. that’s what I did with this one. purely based on the artwork alone, I can tell you that this book is a treat for the eyes. a lot is going on here, and there’s something so engrossing about being swept up into the chaotic pen strokes and colors. the story is an interesting one, and not entirely what you expect. the characters are all distinct and layered---really riveting people who feel near-painfully real. as the first book in a two (?) book series, it leaves off with the central (and now additional) mysteries unsolved---which leaves the reading experience feeling unfinished and kind of disjointed. I’m stuck in a bit of a confusing mid-zone with this one, where I truly....well, I can't say I enjoyed it, since this story is so much more than that? I was...fascinated? enveloped? I’ll be reading the next one, definitely.

one of us is lying by karen m. mcmanus 🥜🚓📱

quick synopsis: young adult/contemporary mystery/suspense. five students walk into detention. only four make it out alive. who did it...and who is lying?

page count: 361

rating:★★★ (firm 3.7)

review: the breakfast club....but with murder? if you’re down for that, you’ll enjoy this book! it certainly kept my attention. and MAN was this a suspenseful and super stressful read. (if you need a book that’ll make you go “wow, I’m glad I’m not in high school anymore”, this is it lol!) there’s a bunch of really interesting character studies going on in this one, and it definitely lends to a tense and involving read. the only reason the rating isn’t any higher is just that certain elements of it didn’t work...entirely...for me. that doesn’t mean that they were bad...just not what I...wanted? there’s two more books in this series, and while I’m not anxious to get my hands on them, I’m fairly sure I would read them!

murder at morrington hall: a stella and lyndy mystery by clara mckenna 🐎🍵💏

quick synopsis: adult/historical mystery. 1905. stella kendrick, a lively and confident american heiress, is tricked into an arranged marriage by her coldly ambitious father. her groom-to-be is viscount “lyndy” lyndhurst, who is both roughish and financially strapped. despite this rough beginning, they find themselves oddly drawn to each other. could they actually be a good match? however, all courtship is set aside when the pair discover the vicar who was to marry them----dead in the library. now they must work together to solve the crime and find the culprit.

page count: 304

rating: ★★

review: ugh, it pains me to say, as I thought I was signing myself up for a fun turn-of-the-century murder mystery/romance...but this was just...meh. a meh story. I feel like it had potential to be an enjoyable, soapy romp with a dash of sensuality...but it was none of those things? (basically, I wanted a self-indulgent and delicious slice of chocolate cake...but I ended up with a week-old raisin muffin.) it didn't help that I had some issues with certain things the writer included. in particular, I REALLY didn’t like the equating of fat = mean/ugly and the repeated use of the word “bulbous” to describe certain characters noses----I had to do a quick google search to see what the hell the author was talking about. still not sure if she was trying to imply that the characters had rhinophyma/rosacea or just that they had bigger, “ugly” noses, but neither is good lmao. whenever you put a “plain/regular-degular person” with a big nose up against your array of stock White People™ characters with thin noses and angular faces, AND make those “plain” characters play the “wow, I’m so ugly but these characters are so pretty oh woe is me” bullshit in their inner monologue, I’m dipping. I’ve collected my paycheck, clocked out, left the building. (your story is already about a bunch of rich, straight, white people in 1905...I’m already skeptical, don’t test me. jk, but also not.) I’m fairly sure this would have caused a decent amount of people to DNF this book, but I’m a stubborn little bitch, and if I paid actual money for the hardcover copy at goddamn Barnes and Noble, I’m reading it. this is all to say that....if I’m being thrown out of enjoying your soapy historical murder mystery to gripe about random shit, there’s a problem. other than that? carpet was described a lot, the twist was decent, the romance was okay (no smut---or anything even vaguely close to romantic/sexual tension---and the kisses were not described at all, so I have no clue if either of them do more than press their lips together while admiring each others pale necks, but whatever), and the setting was the most interesting thing about this book (a crumbling english estate in the countryside?? sign me tf up). I won’t be reading anything more in this series, but that cover is pretty cool isn’t it? (I don’t know that the vase had anything to do with the story I read, but it does look really neat.) sidenote: hate to be a smarmy asshole, as I know full well how much work goes into writing, and I’m in no way trying to shame the author...this book just didn’t do it for me.

wilder girls by rory power 🌳🦷🥀

quick synopsis: young adult/horror/mystery. on an isolated island off the coast of maine, raxter school for girls is under quarantine. a mysterious disease has wracked the island, leaving teachers dead, students twisted and changed, and the woods that surround it dangerous and wild. while the disease consumes the island, the girls wait---for help, for the cure that was promised to them. but when hetty’s best friend disappears, she must venture out of the safety of the school, past the gate that separates them from the woods---and what she finds will change everything.

page count: 363

rating: ★★★★★

review: powerful, blistering, and utterly terrifying. that’s what immediately comes to mind when thinking about this book. I read it in a breakneck pace, devouring the whole thing in a feverish five? hour haze. once it was over, I sat bleary-eyed, the air around me feeling different than before, my hands tense and my stomach jumping. “you were a good one.” I said softly, kissing the spine. so yeah, it’s good. it’s very good. heartbreaking and awful and shockingly beautiful. this one hurts. I felt this one in my bones, in my soul. read it.

lovely war by julie berry 🌷💥💞

quick synopsis: young adult (but the youngest character is 18...so I think this could comfortably slot into adult)/historical (with a touch of fantasy). the intersecting stories of hazel, james, aubrey, and colette: a classical pianist from london, a british would-be-architect-turned-soldier, a harlem-born ragtime genius in the u.s. army, and a belgian orphan with a gorgeous voice and a devastating past----told by the goddess aphrodite, who must spin the tale or face judgment on mount olympus.

page count: 468

rating: ★★★★★

review: do you know how many times I CRIED while reading this book? because I certainly don’t! I lost track, as there are simply too many painful and beautiful things contained in this book. heart-wrenching, sumptuous and intoxicating, vivid in the best and worst ways, sharp and soft at the same time. I met my boyfriend while he was still active-duty military, so the wartime/seperation themes hit me very personally....but even without that, this book is excellent. expertly weaving together mythology and history in one gripping piece of art, it left me with a wistful smile on my face and a faint ache in my heart. it’s good. very good.

we have always lived in the castle by shirley jackson 🏡💀🐱

quick synopsis: young adult? adult? who knows!/mystery/horror. mary katherine blackwood is eighteen years old and lives with her sister constance. she has often thought that with any luck at all she would have been born a werewolf, because the two middle fingers on both of her hands are the same length, but she has had to be content with what she has. she dislikes washing herself, and dogs, and noise. she likes her sister constance, and richard plantagenet, and amanita phalloides, the death-cup mushroom. everyone else in her family is dead.

page count: 146

rating: ★★★★ (4.5/4.6!)

review: delightfully creepy and utterly odd, with a full cast of extremely unlikable characters and one of the strangest protagonists I’ve ever read. at NO TIME did I have any idea where the story was going, which lead to an completely bizarre (but fun!) reading experience. twilight-zonian/gothic...but better. very eager to read more of shirley jackson’s catalogue, because that lady sure knew how to weave a tale. very glad I read this one.

sadie by courtney summers 📻👥🎙

quick synopsis: young adult (mc is nineteen, and imo I feel like this slides into adult tbh)/contemporary/true crime. told from the alternating perspectives of nineteen-year-old sadie, who runs away from home to find her younger sister’s killer, and a true crime podcast exploring sadie’s disappearance.

page count: 308

rating: ★★★

review: sad, awful, raw. that’s this book, simultaneously bright red and angry and deep blue, sadness upon sadness. this book reminds me of every true crime documentary I’ve ever watched---how it wraps itself up in a depressingly soft way, all the emptiness left behind and everything forever-changed. gives me the same icky voyeuristic feeling consuming any true crime content always leaves with me---this peculiar feeling of peering in to others heartbreak, of their horrors. this is a hard book. it’s difficult and not easy to stomach---and it never lets up. know that before you go in. what you may expect/want is NOT what you’ll get. and that’s the trueness of this book. I have my own personal feelings regarding the story, thus the three star rating, but that’s on ME. this book is incredibly well-written and insanely gripping. I finished it the same night I started reading it. if you want a gritty, intense read set in the very bleak reality of our world, this is your book.

FEBRUARY

BOOKS READ: 14

PAGES READ: 4225

# OF 2020 BOOKS READ SO FAR: 17/50

in reflection: my goal for this month was to read ten books, and I did that ...plus four more! so I’m pretty proud of myself, lol! there were a lot of stellar reads this month, and I had so much fun discovering them all! definitely a TON of new favorites to add to my bookshelf! :^)

disclaimer: all fourteen of the books I read this month include/focus on potentially triggering content, although they do fluctuate on the scale of intensity and subject matter. my wrap-up reviews do not contain spoilers/a comprehensive list of potential triggers. I urge everyone to do their own research regarding the content of these books if you’re interested in reading them, and I’m always available for questions. my reviews are just that, reviews, and books that work for me may not work for you (and vice versa).

#sam's 50 books of 2020 #nonsims #sam speaks #body horror cw #for wilder girls cover #and for wilder girls in general lol

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tomjopson · 4 years

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Hello, I am very new to this fandom, somehow I started reading nonfiction and it funnelled into the show and book. I noticed a post that the book is apparently anathema in the fandom. I tried looking for reasons why that is the case, since the usual consensus is "The book is always better than the show/movie/musical etc." But have come up dry. Do you have any insights on why? Thank you.

Oh sure! It’s been over a year since I read the book, but here goes.

The book is very, very different from the show. They follow roughly the same storyline, but the showrunners infused a lot more historical accuracy, more of an ensemble POV, as well as providing better nuance and autonomy to its Inuit and female characters.

Now, I’ll always have a fondness for the book because it was my introduction to the Franklin Expedition as well as the show, but I imagine for other people, who either knew the history of the expedition or watched the show first, a fondness such as mine never developed (and ya know, that’s fair).

I would categorize Simmons’ book as a horror or action/adventure novel way before I’d label it historical fiction. And in light of that genre, Simmons does some things really well. For example, the Carnivale scene or Thomas Blanky’s escaping the Tuunbaq into the rigging.

But Simmons also falls into a lot of sexist, racist, and colonialist pitfalls notorious in those genres, particularly in his treatment of Lady Silence (who, among other things, is naked. a lot. for no real good reason).

The book feels much smaller in scope as well. Like I said above, the show does a really good job having an ensemble cast, but the book is separated into chapters from the POV of Crozier, Franklin, Goodsir, Irving, and — to a much lesser degree — Hickey, Peglar, Bridgens, as well as a few solitary POVs toward the end.

The book is not high literature by any means. It’s written by an American author who didn’t know how to set aside his Americanisms to write a book about Victorian British sailors, and he treats Crozier as some bizarre 80s-style action hero that I can only assume fulfilled some macho power fantasy on Simmons’ part lmao.

What makes the book offensive is a small part, but a critical one, given the Arctic location. His portrayal of the Inuit characters is pretty damn abysmal; the family that Irving meets toward the end verge on caricature. Also unlike the show, Lady Silence is mute from get-go, and so she is only given perspective via the characters who want to bang her or (this is kinda a spoiler sorry) who end up banging her via his weird assimilation into an Inuit tribe after everyone else is dead.

Anyway, there is much more that can be dissected, I’m sure, but here’s my quick rundown:

The book is fun & longwinded, but ultimately surface-level and not much more.

The show, despite being only 10 episodes long, manages an astounding amount of grace, clarity of purpose, and nuanced storytelling that Simmons does not come even close to.

#helenarasmussen87 #asks

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cookinguptales · 6 years

Text

So while I was in NYC, I got to see Mean Girls, Spongebob Squarepants, and Anastasia. It was really a combination of lottery winnings and tkts, though I did splurge and get myself the Mean Girls ticket ahead of time. Despite how I got the rest of the tickets, I actually had pretty good seats at all the shows! So that part was nice.

More in-depth thoughts under a cut, but can I just say how weird it is that like... I think I had the most fun at Spongebob? I only went bc I won the lottery but like. I genuinely enjoyed that show. lol. Reminds me of when I went to see Shrek: The Musical on a lark with my friend, and we were shocked that it’s actually a great show.

I saw Spongebob first, an evening show. It was also my most high-pain day, so I have to admit that something funny and a little stupid (with a good heart) was probably exactly what I needed. The music was fun and catchy (not a shock, I guess, considering the people they got to do music for them) and the actors did a really spectacular job. I realized after coming home that I had some different actors than appear on the recording, but I liked my actors more. The Mr. Krabs I saw sounded so spot-on that it was a little creepy, lol, and our Plankton was super fun. I was kind of shocked when the guy who played Squidward started talking in a straight-up British accent after the show, lmao.

I laughed at a lot of the jokes, and though I never really expected to see Patrick Star leading a cult, it was apparently exactly what I wanted out of my evening. Plus, it actually had some pretty good lessons for kids. Don’t turn on each other and scapegoat immigrants when bad things happen, think for yourselves and always try to fix problems rather than running away from them, sometimes people say things that sound profound but won’t actually help you, diversity is valuable… I think it kind of veered into a trope I’m not in love with (immigrants are great because they’re useful) but I think it was also good for kids to see a character who was female (and played by a black woman) who was fantastic at science, kind, determined, and the one who ultimately saves the day. I also liked that the show was clear that her pain and wariness didn’t go away just because people started accepting her again. I think it managed to go in on some really good lessons without ever feeling preachy about it.

Plus, again, the show was just super fun. I love how it played with the space (like the way the actors kept interacting with the band and the conductor) and the jokes were genuinely funny. Patchy wandering around and trying to crash the show was great. The songs were catchy and fun and it was really cohesively done. Also, I think it really managed to nail the feeling of the characters and this underwater world without being too on-the-nose. (I’m looking at you, Little Mermaid.)

Was it the deepest, most memorable show I’ve ever seen? No. But it was a lot of fun, and fun is frankly what I needed right then.

Next, I saw Mean Girls. I’ll admit that my enjoyment of this show was marred by a couple things. It’s not the most accessible theater (I never did get to see the merch booth…) and the lead actress was out. There was a standby actress who could play like… 6-7 different characters? And I was really ??? when I saw that, like. There were really two options. Either she’s the best actress on earth, who can totally transform herself so she can play such diverse roles… or she’s generic af. Unfortunately, she turned out to be the latter. Like, don’t get me wrong! She was technically proficient and could sing really well! She just didn’t feel like Cady. There was something missing there, y’know? Some spark or charisma. She was just boring to watch, which kind of dampened the whole show. I overheard that it was her first time playing Cady, though, so idk. Maybe she was just nervous.

That aside, though, I did enjoy the show! It was a Wednesday (so I did wear pink) and it had a lot of the heart of the movie. It was really funny, and I liked how Janice and Damien were used to frame the show. They made for great, hilarious narrators. I really enjoyed most of the songs, too. Some were a little forgettable, I’ll admit, but others were really touching (particularly Gretchen’s solos) or super funny. Damien sings a whole song about how sometimes you just need to STOP and I loved it. The song was hilarious. The script itself was packed with good stuff. There were great jokes and good social commentary, more depth for some of the forgotten side characters and some really touching moments.

Plus, Cady aside, the rest of the actors did a tremendous job. My one gripe with the original movie is that… idk, the actress who played Regina George never quite felt like she could actually be a queen bee in a real school. Is that weird to say? The other girls around her just felt prettier and more charismatic, so it was hard to buy that she would actually be in charge. The Regina in the musical, though? Holy shit, you feel it. That woman could walk through Times Square and every eye would be on her. She did an absolutely fantastic job with Regina, and the other huge standouts to me were Gretchen and Janice. Just excellent, excellent jobs all around. I really love how much time the show gave to Gretchen so you could really get where she was coming from. Get that poor girl a therapist, honestly.

I think part of the problem is that, all things considered, it’s difficult not to compare Mean Girls to Heathers. And frankly, Heathers is a better show, imo. They’re both good! But I do sort of feel like Mean Girls could’ve gone in a little harder, and its music wasn’t nearly as memorable as Heathers’s. That said, like Heathers, Mean Girls: The Musical has a LOT more potential for f/f than the movie. lmao. And isn’t that really what we’re all here for?

(I mean no, probably not, but it’s what I’m here for.)

The third show I saw was Anastasia, and I gotta admit it. I’m shocked how much I didn’t like Anastasia. I’ve been wanting to see it for ages because that movie was my childhood, but I bounced hard off that show. Like I was kind of hanging in there for the first act, but I was literally wishing I could check my watch during the second act. Plus we had an u/s for Dmitri and he was. Not fabulous. I always feel bad saying that about understudies but like. He was……… not fabulous. So the criticisms I have going forward about Dmitri in the show might be colored by that. Bear with me.

Now, the show is super different from the movie. And I understand why they chose to go for realism rather than fantasy, but I disagree with that choice very, very firmly. Not only did it make the whole show a real fucking downer, but like… I feel like when you make movies about real people, you either have to go completely realistic or go real fucking far off the deep end. Like the movie really went in on the near-mythic stature that Anastasia and Rasputin had in history and folklore during that period. It went in hard with magic and zombies and had a real fairy tale feeling that only really worked because of the wild tales people were already telling about the historical personages. No one watched the animated movie about Anastasia and went “wow, I bet that’s just like real life”.

The show decided that they wanted to be more realistic and talk about like. God, execution of political prisoners and people starving in the streets and refugees and just generally the politics of Leningrad. So not only was that fucking depressing, but it really pulled things back to be like… If you’re being all realistic about this, shouldn’t you be more realistic about the real life people you’re using for this story? This isn’t how Anastasia’s life went, and I can buy that in a fantasy what if? AU, but when you’re aiming for gritty realism, then telling this story about a person who was executed (and yes, we now know she was executed) is just… It feels disrespectful, y’know?

Plus once you start bringing in the real politics of the world, I’m going to start examining the characters through a real historical lens. A love triangle is annoying and unnecessary anyway, but you managed to make it fucking creepy by having this guy stalk her after his dad killed her entire family, and while he’s still working for an oppressive regime. That’s not romantic! But you also managed to fuck up royally by making that actor far more handsome and charismatic, not to mention a much better singer, than the actual love interest!

Like! Dmitri only barely worked in the movie, y’know? You have to straddle such a fine, fine line with a lovable con man. If you take out the lovable, he’s just a fucking con man. And in the show, he just felt like a con man. Again, the fact that the u/s couldn’t sing all that well (he went sour several times and sometimes sounded just like Ernie, of Sesame Street, which is kind of the opposite of sexy) did not help things. But he was also just a fucking dick to Anya and it was difficult to tell why she liked him, other than the writing’s new decision to make her basically a street urchin like him. (As in, she’d been living on the street for many years previous to the show’s start — he also never worked in the palace and saved her life in the musical; it was never actually stated how she escaped in the musical.)

The actress who played Anya did an amazing job, but the writing for her character was pretty ??? most of the time. Like I get that you want to make her feisty (and why did you choose AN ATTEMPTED RAPE TO DISPLAY HER STRENGTH?) but if she’s really so street smart, why does she constantly make bizarre decisions? Why does she want to go to Paris if she doesn’t have the Together In Paris necklace? Why is she having a weird love triangle between a man who verbally abuses her and a government official who wants her dead? WHY DID YOU MAKE IT CLEAR THAT SHE HAD A DOG AND THE DOG IS DEAD? Poor Pooka!

Speaking of people I can’t root for knowing actual historical fact, they changed Sophie into an ex-Russian dilettante named Lily who spends all her time complaining that she used to be rich af in Russia and it’s so sad that all of the Russian elite had to give up their major Russian fortunes so they could… have minor French fortunes and cushy jobs. Like every time they started reminiscing about the good ol’ days in Russia, I was just like “oh right, that’s why they had a revolution, eat the fucking rich”. Like the new background they made up just made me despise her and all her friends.

They also made Anastasia’s grandma kind of a bitch. You’re really kind of forcibly reminded how awful monarchies can be whenever she talks about politics! And that cute, short scene in the movie where she finally meets Anya? Drawn out to like a half hour of this old woman rambling about how awful the world is and how she hates everyone and Anya is just a tricksy bitch. Fun times for all!

Plus like. I don’t remember a single song from the musical that wasn’t in the movie. I hate that they took out all of the magic and the talking animals and Rasputin (how did they never even mention the HISTORICAL one?) and they just had to rub it in by cannibalizing In The Dark of The Night and turning it into a depressing-ass song about political refugees who were fleeing Russia and would never see it again. (Note: the singer of this song was shot in the head by Russian authorities shortly after singing it.)

The only thing the musical really did was make me so sad for these people who had a revolution because their rulers were deeply corrupt and used the lives of the poor like pawns, and then had an equally corrupt government regime move in. The people were starving either way! And the musical trying to romanticize all that (they kind of wanted to acknowledge the historical crimes but still make me like the people who caused the problems??) just felt awful. They tried to work this story in with the real historical timeline by being like YEAH SHE WAS REAL AND THEY REUNITED BUT THEN SHE DECIDED TO LEAVE AND NEVER TELL ANYONE WHO SHE WAS AGAIN SO THE CREEP IN THE GOVERNMENT DIDN’T GET IN TROUBLE AND NO ONE EVER KNEW THAT THE REAL ANASTASIA WAS ALIVE. Like what. No. They found her fucking corpse. You can’t try to follow real life and have her actually be Anastasia. You can’t have your cake and eat it too! Do you want to make a musical about the plight of the Russians during this time period, or do you want to write a fairy tale? You can’t do both! All you’ve managed to do is play out some bad history and make me feel kind of gross.

….and boring music, questionable politics, and fuckin dreariness aside, the writing was just bad. The second act dragged on and on and on because they would never say in a minute what they could say in an hour. I was kind of bored and annoyed both. If you’re going to change a story and add an hour and a half of material, it better be good material. And it wasn’t. The only bright spots for me were the spectacular costumes (really gorgeous), the interesting sets, and the woman who plays Anastasia.

Other than that, I was not thrilled. All it did was make me want to go watch the ding-dang movie so I could just see the ding-dang bat.

#I have a lot of feelings apparently

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onehellofawaitress · 6 years

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I think Lizzy knows way more than one might initially think

Not just in the current arc (which is somewhat obvious given her fighting so valiantly to protect real!Ciel and refusing to stay by our!Ciel’s side) but like. In general. Idk if this is like well known by most people but I just wanna compile my thoughts together with evidence just because.

Still wanna read? Ok dokey lets go

So we know, as of the Campania arc, that Lizzy was raised to be an expert swordswoman from the time she was very young. In her flashback, when arguing with her mother about not wanting to be a swordswoman because it’s “not cute”, we get this scene in chapter 58:

“I know it’s hard, but it’s for his sake and yours”, her mother says, “you understand, don’t you?”

And then Lizzy’s eyes widen, and she accepts the argument, even though she’s unhappy about it.

Francis Midford does not seem like the type of woman who would keep her children in the dark about too much. Especially not her daughter, who is going to become the wife of the queen’s watchdog.

In chapter 132, we get this scene:

“…placing such a burden as the duty of the Queen’s watchdog on a sickly child’s shoulders is far too cruel!” she wouldn’t let her daughter become involved in a game she knows nothing about: this heavy burden requires not only strength but knowledge. Which is why she trained Lizzy in the first place to become a fighter to protect Ciel if he were ever to need it.

In chapter 58, Lizzy lists what girls are supposed to be. One of them is being an unknowing angel. “However,” her monologue says, “In one way I was always different than other girls.”

Arguably, one could think that while she knows about Ciel’s position as the queen’s watchdog and that it is dangerous, she doesn’t know that much. But I think she knows a lot more about the job than she lets on and she just feigns ignorance to remain “an unknowing angel” to Ciel.

I mainly got this impression throughout the entirety of the Campania arc.

In chapter 53, when Lizzy follows Ciel and scares him, he points a gun to her face. He is literally pointing a gun at her face and while she’s surprised, she’s not terrified of it and recovers remarkably fast – acting normal afterwards. She’s not surprised he has it or even questioning why he has a gun out when on a luxury cruise ship. She knows that his presence on the ship is likely not a surprise for her but that he’s there on the Queen’s business.

In my interpretation, she is feigning ignorance and innocence by going back to the way she “normally” acts after he puts the gun down.

On the next page, Ciel says he “can’t be fussed with her” and tells her to go back upstairs. Lizzy pauses for a moment, considering, but then decides to follow him. In my interpretation, it’s a mix of her just wanting to be by his side here, but also for her to make sure he’s safe.

When they are attacked by the bizarre dolls, Lizzy is… surprisingly quiet. She is shocked but does not scream or freak out – as my initial interpretation of her character from early chapters would think she’d do. Instead she allows Ciel to protect her, obeying his instructions without going into a panic.

In chapter 54, while ascending to the top of the luggage, is when she seems to exhibit that panic. Lizzy looks like she’s about to panic here – she was probably prepared to jump down and kick mr bizarre doll’s ass, lmao. I wouldn’t doubt it.

Lizzy is not completely knowledgeable about what is happening, as exhibited when they’re sitting atop the luggage discussing what’s going on and she looks disgusted by the idea of animated corpses.

She also does not seem to question how Sebastian – one single butler – can wipe out all the bizarre dolls. While Ciel did shield her vision, she can see the carnage left. All performed by one man, with no weapon (except maybe cutlery)? It’s inhuman. It’s odd.

Yet, Lizzy doesn’t question it. Not out loud, at least. Instead she allows Sebastian to help her down from the top of the luggage and doesn’t make any comments.

After Ciel sends Sebastian to check on Lizzy’s family, he holds a gun to Rian’s head and threatens him. All of this is happening in front of Lizzy – who is conveniently not shown very often during this part. Her fiancée is holding a gun to a man’s head and she’s silent. I sincerely doubt the reason she’s not shown is Yana being lazy and not including her reaction to the scene – It’s very possible we may get a full reaction and a window to Lizzy’s thoughts in a flashback when we next see Lizzy after the 2CT has been confirmed? Or not – I may be hoping for too much. I cry.

But, regardless, Lizzy lets Ciel do his job as the Queen’s watchdog here. She is choosing to not make herself a nuisance for him. This is deliberate.

This scene (though it honestly just cracks me the hell up and it’s brilliant and I’m so pissed it wasn’t in the movie but I DIGRESS) is also a pretty good indicator at how observant and intelligent Lizzy is. She knows nothing about this secret society or what’s going on, but when she sees Rian doing the ridiculous pose, without question she joins in with Ciel and Snake to do it. She picks up on it very quickly.

(Snake also picked up on this like her, but Snake being kickass totally deserves its own post and this is just an analysis of Lizzy lmao. Plus, he at least was told by Sebastian and Ciel they were infiltrating a society so the idea of there being a ‘secret handshake’ like thing to be considered part of it is not completely shocking, but Lizzy was completely in the dark about that.)

One instance where her mantra breaks is when they’re trying to climb through the ducts and Ciel tells her to get out of her skirts. I think this mortified Lizzy for numerous reasons (looking uncute in front of Ciel, and having to get undressed and be in basically underclothes in front of a boy/her fiancé of all people) and because of her mortification her resolve broke for a minute. Once she remembers how dire the situation is and sees Ciel’s real anger she apologizes.

(SUCH CHARACTER GROWTH FROM CHAPTER 2 JESUS FUCK I LOVE IT)

And, finally, we have one of my favorite pages ever:

“I am the daughter of the leader of the British knights, Marquis Alexis Leon Midford: Elizabeth!” was said on the prior page, “The wife of the Queen’s watchdog!”

Her line here is what makes me so sure she knows what’s up. She knows his darker title, she knows the dark history of the Phantomhives. Francis is not the type of woman who could ever keep Lizzy in the dark about this.

“Mother’s teachings” – parallels both the use of the sword and the knowledge she has, that she doesn’t want Ciel to know she knows.

TL;DR I believe that Lizzy is much more observant/intelligent than she’s given credit for by Ciel and Sebastian; hell, actually by most all of the cast except perhaps her immediate family.

I could go on to describe why I think Lizzy knows about real!Ciel, but I will save that analysis for another post when i’m not exhausted after pulling this all together xD

Thanks if you read this far! I love Lizzy <3 <3

#elizabeth midford #character anaylsis #kuroshitsuji #lizzy midford #headcanon #mine #cielizzy #sorta #lmao

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news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog · 5 years

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Instagram verification will make you Public Enemy No. 1

This piece is part of an ongoing series exploring what it means to be a woman on the internet.

In a folder on my phone called “PUBLIC FIGURE,” I save screenshots of some of the most outrageous messages strangers have sent me since I got verified on Instagram, primarily because I still can’t believe I get so many. There are dozens of DMs that demand to know “why tf” and “how tf” I got a little blue badge.

People will scrawl “who are you lmao” under a bunch of my photos all at once, which is a singularly mortifying experience that has no equivalent on Twitter or Facebook, where my profiles also have blue ticks. On a few occasions, I’ve commented on a celebrity or brand’s post, then watched as the replies to my original comment devolve into a fight over whether a person can buy verification and, if so, whether that’s what I did. To be clear, I didn’t. I’m a journalist and was verified for my job. My profile is categorized under “Journalist” and a Story highlight full of screenshots of my work appears right at the top of my profile.

The messages are sorted into my “requests” folder but are often accompanied by a push notification telling me a user “wants to send [me] a message.” I always know what it will say before I even unlock my phone to check. By far the worst one came from a user who asked how to get a tick a few times and when I didn’t answer, viewed my Story, noticed I was watching Gossip Girl for the first time, and sent me a spiteful DM telling me who Gossip Girl was, spoiling the show.

In receiving this unexpected aggression, anger, and attention, I’m not alone. Several women verified on Instagram told me similar stories — with their experiences ranging from annoying to creepy to scary. And yet, men in media who I spoke to about this phenomenon generally have positive feelings about Instagram since being verified. No, this isn’t representative of all men, but it’s been shown that women are twice as likely to face online harassment and the men I spoke to didn’t report, say, getting unsolicited dick pics at a higher rate.

The DMs I get may seem trivial compared to revenge porn or other online harassment people face daily, but my “PUBLIC FIGURE” folder has evolved from an uncomfortable joke to a museum dedicated to the hostility that manifests itself in various ways for women across the internet and in real life. The messages may not necessarily be dangerous, but other manifestations certainly are, which is why they’re all worth investigating.

According to Instagram, the checkmarks are designed simply to “help people more easily find the public figures, celebrities, and brands they want to follow,” but among users, they function more or less as a mysterious status symbol. The general assumption is that Instagram either confers a marking arbitrarily on accounts with thousands of followers or the people behind smaller accounts buy them.

How I got the tick

When my former boss asked me if I wanted my Instagram account submitted for verification, it never occurred to me the small marking would be controversial. All I felt was a little excitement, but I tried to be cool with my response.

I probably said something like, “Yeah, that would be super funny,” which, two years later, it still totally is, even though the tiny tick has brought me an outsized amount of harassment.

I don’t really self-identify as a public figure, celebrity, or brand; I’m a young woman who works in media, which bizarrely qualifies me for the badge as much as it qualifies Oprah. If and when I use my account to reach out to sources or act on behalf of a media company, it needs to be clear I’m not bluffing.

At present, I have about 2,600 followers. Similarly, 2,900 accounts follow my Twitter, which is also verified and is where I actually post my work, but I’ve never gotten any harassing messages about my verification on that platform. Twitter’s indefinite pause on verifying users may contribute to that — or perhaps, a Twitter verification doesn’t have the same weight as one from Instagram on the social media totem pole. At any rate, I’m expected to have a badge on the app where I share links to my articles, not on the one where I share pictures of my face. Getting Instagram verification almost felt subversive, if self-serving.

It also felt surprisingly validating to meet the standards for obtaining something so ostensibly prestigious. The feelings of success and belonging would prove short-lived, but there was a part of me, at first, that saw the badge as a sign I’d somehow made it, at least in terms of an admittedly subjective importance.

Like I said, though, I wanted to seem aloof with my boss, not like I actually cared. Online, it often seems like sincerity is the enemy of prosperity, but the dirty little secret is that we all do care. That’s why I ended up saying I wanted to be on the verification list with the rest of my coworkers even though I knew my friends were going to make fun of me for taking myself so seriously. (And they do!)

I was expecting the attention and ribbing from my friends, but I wasn’t expecting the explosion of outrage from total strangers. As it turns out, there are people who care a lot about their online image and have no problem making it known they, too, want a checkmark, even if it’s obvious they don’t know what its purpose is.

The "public figure" folder

The proof is in the “PUBLIC FIGURE” folder.

I’ve fielded emails and text messages about the checkmark, which always feel invasive, because I have contact information available on the page since, well, the whole point of the verified profile is to enhance my ability to do my job. I don’t usually respond to the messages or comments, but when I do, I just write that I work in media and didn’t buy anything. “I’m sure you didn’t get yours the right way because you don’t have much fans,” someone wrote back once, which is a pretty common theme among the messages, although the moralistic resentment over “the right way” added a unique touch.

Notably, four guys I’ve gone out with have brought it up in person, each with a different combination of annoyance and awe. One of them was an aspiring entertainer with no concrete acting credits. He admitted to googling me before our date (which was both our first and last one), then indignantly told me that if either of us should be verified, it was him, the actor. Another also worked in media and was frustrated no one at his organization knew anyone at Facebook, Instagram’s parent company, who could make it happen for him. I sipped my drink. What am I supposed to say to that?

I reached out to the Gossip Girl spoiler, who is purportedly a British teen, for this piece and they agreed to chat, but quickly retracted the agreement when I asked about the whole show-spoiling thing. The user did tell me I could quote this: “When I sent them things it was a joke and I never thought you’d open them because of your tick.”

SEE ALSO: Instagram's 'Hashtag Mindfulness' boom: The good, the bad, and the ugly

It’s not a joke, though, and if it were, it would be much less funny to the verified women I spoke to than the verified men. (Instagram declined to comment for this article, as did a few verified users claiming to be selling badges in the comments of celebrity posts.)

What about the others?

Andrew Kirell, the senior editor at The Daily Beast who has 755 Instagram followers, says he gets more spam messages, but not necessarily harassment. Jon Levine, The Wrap’s media editor who has 2,105, says his harassment has neither gone up nor down post-checkmarking. KHarlles, a recording artist with 3,178 followers, noted that there has been an increase in DMs inquiring how he got his badge, but largely, getting verified on Instagram “was very positive” and has been useful to his career.

Polly A., a verified musician with over 12,500 followers on the platform, however, doesn’t agree that the tick is useful in any way. She’s noticed “no effect” beyond “annoyed” messages from unverified users: “I guess the only thing I notice is that some people almost make you feel unworthy for having one if you’re not ‘famous.’”

When asked about any effect she’s seen since getting her checkmark, a female journalist with a little over 1,000 followers asked to remain anonymous (as did every woman in media contacted for this story, for fear of further harassment). Granted anonymity, she confided she’s seen a definite increase in not only the sort of spam reported by Kirell and KHarlles, but “weird guys” and “creepy messages” from men. The dick pics and “inappropriate comments” she described aren’t uncommon for any woman online, but the amount she receives tripled after she was verified on Instagram from one or two a month to five or six.

A second woman in media whose follower count sits around 3,000 said she, too, got an “insane amount” of spam DMs from people who wanted to purchase her account, but those halted and gave way to a wave of men offering out-of-line opinions on her appearance.

Another woman in media I spoke to declined verification altogether simply because getting it would have meant she would need to make her account public, which she was unwilling to do.

All of this raises a question, of course: Is it worth it? For women, especially, is solidifying a brand or public position through the use of the app’s verification badges really worth it?

For the most part, in spite of creepy messages and straight-up aggression, no one I spoke to, whether in entertainment or media, said they fully regretted getting the tick. Almost everyone mentioned a bump in engagement and, honestly, a little self-aware gloating among friends (along with the same roasting by those friends that I correctly anticipated, too).

Moreover, media women who have seen an increase in the receipt of creepy messages or unwelcome nudes noted that yes, their messages to potential sources get answered faster and more reliably than messages sent by unverified colleagues. Even with my relatively low following, I, too, noticed that when seeking out sources for this story and others, I got a solid response rate I just didn’t see before I got that badge. When it needs to, the checkmark does its job. It also happens to bring a lot of anger and dick pics with it.

Whether being verified is “worth it,” then, depends entirely on what “worth it” means to each individual. We already know women experience more harassment just for being Online While Female. The extra visibility of appearing at the top of comment sections or searches can only add to that.

One artist, Thea & The WIld, who has 2,545 followers, shared a particularly rosy outlook about her checkmark and whether getting it was worth it. “[W]hen I search for known people I want to follow, I obviously look for the verification sign to avoid ‘fake’ profiles and weird content,” she said.

She’s received a few nice messages from fans, she added, and while she’s concerned overall about the general addictiveness and vapidness of social media, she still gleans a little joy from her badge, which is probably the attitude we should all try to have: “For me, I think it just felt positive and probably affected some dopamine in my brain when that tiny mark appeared.”

If I could go back in time to the moment my former boss asked if I wanted to get verified, I’d probably still do it, too, even though I audibly groan whenever I get a push notification alerting me that someone I don’t know “wants to send me a message” on the app. After all, it does its job of identifying me as a legitimate, trustworthy professional, even though one user did rather unkindly (but fairly!) surmise I must not be “one of the better known” journalists after I commented on an influencer’s post. Like other women harassed online, I’ve embraced blocking and deleting and I can’t recommend it enough.

Maybe one day I’ll grow into my badge and have the kind of account that seems like it ought to have one to the average user, but I know if and when that happens, I’ll face harassment for something new, simply for being a woman on the internet. In the meantime, at the risk of committing the most grievous online sin and seeming like I care, I invite you to follow me on Instagram. I’m verified, you know!

Lindsey Ellefson is a journalist who lives in New York. Find her on Twitter, @ellefs0n.

WATCH: Queen Elizabeth II posted on Instagram for the first time

#_category:yct:001000002 #_lmsid:a0Vd000000DTrEpEAL #_author:(Deleted account)#_uuid:3aa6939a-29ef-32cd-867b-33612af3a720 #_revsp:news.mashable

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jack-thepumpkinking-blog1 · 5 years

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Jack Skellington -- Character Sheet

everybody's waiting for the next surprise / skeleton Jack might catch you in the back / and scream like a banshee / make you jump out of your skin / this is halloween, everybody scream

won't ya please make way for a very special guy / our man Jack is King of the Pumpkin patch / everyone hail to the Pumpkin King, now!

Archetype — The Hero Birthday — October 31, 1960 Zodiac Sign — Scorpio MBTI — ENFP Enneagram — 7, the enthusiast Temperament — Sanguine Hogwarts House — Slytherpuff Moral Alignment — Chaotic Good Primary Vice — Pride Primary Virtue — Charity Element — Air

[tw -- miscarriage mention, implied abuse (but v vague)]

Overview:

Mother — Eve (nee Meyer) Schildkraut (deceased) Father — Benjamin Schildkraut (deceased) Mother’s Occupation — homemaker Father’s Occupation — construction worker Family Finances — Poor (until Jack got rich.) Birth Order — Only child. Brothers — None. Sisters — None. (Had a miscarried sister.) Other Close Family — Fern Bristlecape (second ex-wife) (FC: Sarah Michelle Gellar), Nemesis Hellsplat (first ex-wife) (FC: Katey Sagal), Hecuba Hellsplat (daughter, 32) (FC: Natalie Portman), Luna Bristlecape (daughter, 22) (FC: Emmy Rossum) Best Friend — None. Other Friends — None. They all dropped him when he fell out of favor, think about THAT. Enemies — None, tbh. Anti-Magick people probably. Pets — None. He should probably get a dog or something. Home Life During Childhood — Rough. His dad was a drinker and spent all their money, and he wouldn’t listen to his wife about needing to save any of it. Jack was always a...creative boy and his father saw it as emasculating, so he didn’t really tolerate Jack’s love of theatre. Which is why he moved out at such a young age (18). Once he had the money, he tried to convince his mom to move to LA with him, it didn’t work. Town or City Name(s) — Swynlake, England (born), LA, California, USA (where he’s lived most of his life.) What Did His or Her Bedroom Look Like — POSTERS. POSTERS EVERYWHERE. Jack spent the meager amount of money he did make as a young boy mowing lawns to go to the movies and to buy posters to decorate every surface of his room. Any Sports or Clubs — Drama club, secretly. Football, outwardly. Wasn’t actually half-bad but he got benched a lot because his heart just wasn’t in it. Also! Plays jazz piano. His mumma taught him. Favorite Toy or Game — Make-up. Dress-up. Dolls, so that he could act out his favorite scenes from movies. Spent a lot of time just--memorizing shit and monologuing to his mother while she cleaned the house. She called him her little parrot. Schooling — Went to Swynlake Primary and Secondary. No university. Favorite Subject — English and Drama. Popular or Loner — Popular. Definitely. Important Experiences or Events — Moving to LA! His first job! All his subsequent jobs! The birth of his daughters! The destruction of his career. Nationality — British Culture — LA (yes, that is a culture fight me.) Religion and beliefs — Jewish, but nonpracticing. Believes in hardwork.

Physical Appearance:

Face Claim — Jeff Goldblum Complexion — Darker skin tone but still fair. Hair Colour — Salt’n’pepper, used to be black. Eye Colour — Hazel. Height — 6’4 Build — Skeletal Tattoos — None. Piercings — None. Common Hairstyle — Coiffed. Clothing Style — Eccentric, loves a good turtleneck. Mannerisms — Very Loud and wiggly. Is never sitting still for long. Likes to climb on furniture. Doesn’t sit in chairs properly. Usual Expression —

Health:

Overall (do they get sick easily)? — Nah, he’s in good health. Physical Ailments — None. Neurological Conditions — None. Some depression? Allergies — Probably seasonal. Grooming Habits — Pretty good, ofc. Has to keep in Tip Top shape, even if he no longer has stylists Sleeping Habits — Has a bad case of insomnia. Eating Habits — Eats well, he’s a vegan. Exercise Habits — Exercises more or less regularly. Does yoga mostly. And like...cycling. Emotional Stability — Has a lot of shit going on underneath but pretty chill outwardly. Body Temperature — Runs a little cold actually. Always has cold af hands. Sociability — Super social! Though mostly for his own benefit. Addictions — None. Drug Use — Used to be heavier. Probably smokes weed, but also do we want a Jack high on the marijuana? Alcohol Use — Frequent but not abnormal.

Your Character’s Character:

Bad Habits — Talking over people, being self-centered, being insensitive. Good Habits — He tries !! and he’s very healthy aha Best Characteristic — He CARES, he’s just not great at showing it Worst Characteristic — Literally does not care. Worst Memory — Getting absolutely destroyed by all media outlets and falling from grace. Best Memory — The premiere of hemlock hill ofc! Proud of — His career. Embarrassed by — Not much, really, but deeply upset about his career being trashed. Driving Style — Erratic lmao Strong Points — He is a very good teacher, when he actually focuses properly. Temperament — Always good-natured! Unless you really piss him off, he can turn really cold and vicious almost without warning. Attitude — Happy-go-lucky, outwardly anyway. Weakness — Caring too much what other people think, while also not listening to anything people say when they give advice. Fears — becoming irrelevant. Phobias — None. Secrets — That he is Deeply Unhappy. Regrets — Lots of things, mostly not having a good relationship with his daughter, Hecuba, which is why he has a better one with Luna. Feels Vulnerable When — People drag up the shit that made him lose his career and fame. Pet Peeves — People not recognizing him or being purposefully obtuse. Conflicts — Wanting to continue to be famous v refusing to change. Motivation — To be Famous. Short Term Goals and Hopes — To be Famous again. Long Term Goals and Hopes — To be Famous again. Sexuality — Straight, but he can be convinced, probably has had dalliances with men. Exercise Routine — Does yoga every morning and evening. Day or Night Person — Night owl, for sure. Introvert or Extrovert — EXTROVERT. Optimist or Pessimist — Optimist.

Likes and Styles:

Music — Jack can play the piano and was in a jazz band for a while, so he loves music, especially jazz! But, really, he can get into anything. He tries to stay #hip for his students. Books — His book, of course, you should read it. Also reads a lot of plays/scripts. Magazines — Any magazine that mentions him. Foods — He’s a vegan! So, vegan food. Loves a good tofu. Has to eat well to keep his svelte figure. Drinks — Tall, half-caff, soy latte at 120 degrees. (I have absolutely no idea what this means but I googled “complicated starbucks orders” and this is what came up.) Also, likes tea. The like one piece of British culture he retained. Animals — Jack is very fond of strange animals–like okapis or the maned wolf. Animals that are just truly bizarre looking. Bonus points if they are obnoxiously large like giraffes. Sports — Played football in secondary. Wasn’t that bad. Social Issues — Magick Rights! Also, considers himself a feminist. (He’s not a terrible ally...but he’s also not perfect by any means.) Favorite Saying — “Acting is not about being someone different. It's finding the similarity in what is apparently different, then finding myself in there.” ~ Meryl Streep Color — Jack is a big fan of black and white–a solid, classic combination that you can’t go wrong with. That’s not to say he doesn’t love color, because he ABSOLUTELY does. It is just that black and white is his favorite combination. Clothing — Loves to dress brightly and fashionably! Jewelry — Not a whole lot. Wears nice watches, probably some rings/necklaces. Websites — His website, which I should make lmao. TV Shows — Hemlock Hill. Movies — His movies, Greatest Want — To be famous. Greatest Need — To learn.

Where and How Does Your Character Live Now:

Home — A large, eccentric mansion on top of a hill. I like to think that it is across from Cruella’s house. It is, of course, called the Skellington Mansion. Household furnishings — An eclectic combination of modern with like the skeleton of a Victorian mansion, so like really ornate, heavy curtains--but a white leather sofa. Favorite Possession — His Emmys. Most Cherished Possession — Is this not the same thing - Jack Neighborhood — The Woods Married Before — Twice! Once to a sorceress-actress, once to a fairy-model. Significant Other Before — Lots of girlfriends probably (all Magicks). Children — Hecuba Hellsplat and Luna Bristlecape Relationship with Family — Estranged for the most part. He barely, if ever, speaks to his ex-wives. Talks with Hecuba very rarely. Has the best relationship with Luna. She’s his bb girl. Car — Some speedster probably, a nice fancy, flashy car. Career — Actor. Dream Career — Actor. Dream Life — He had his dream life. Cry. Love Life — More or less nonexistent. Talents or Skills — Excellent at memorization. A good parrot (can mimic mannerisms/speech patterns really well.) Can play the jazz piano! Intelligence Level — Quite high on certain things, absolutely clueless on others. There is not a lot of in between, really. Finances — Still wealthy af, he has like a successful 40 year career to live off of for the foreseeable future.

#about #character sheet #inspiration #love u my sweet son

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