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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

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Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 11

Cult Girl goes on a little solo excursion while Hannibal works.

@wisesandwichshark @pearlstiare

Trigger warnings: (fake) blood, mentions of death overseas, anti-choice harassment, discussion of abortion

Archie and Max leaving the picture was a problem you couldn't bring yourself to deal with when you awoke the next day. You anticipated a massive downward spiral if you didn't do something for yourself and fast. You'd spent so much time worrying about your schoolwork and your baby that it was long past due.

You made a couple of phone calls and found a GameStop a little out of the way with a used copy of Pokémon Alpha Sapphire for sale. About twenty minutes drive. Hannibal had back-to-back appointments clogging up his day, so it gave you an excuse to go on a little excursion.

You climbed into your car, picked an extensive playlist of your favorite songs and set off. You plugged the directions into your phone and let the map guide you. The roads narrowed as you watched your surroundings grow less and less familiar.

Soon enough, you pulled into a parking lot. Nestled between a Planned Parenthood and a used bookstore, the GameStop beckoned you. At the end of your tunnel vision was that game and nothing could stop you from getting it.

Certainly not from lack of trying.

"Stop right there!" A voice said. It chuckled, trying to make the rude interruption seem friendly.

An obstacle appeared in your line of sight: a plain-looking middle-aged white woman with dyed blonde hair. Just your garden variety Karen.

"Can I help you?" You said, giving your voice a distinct, annoyed bite.

She smiled, though not without discomfort. "Are you going, y'know, in there?"

She gestured to the building behind you. Uncertain of what she wanted or why she was making a trip to the GameStop so weird, you answered in the affirmative.

"Yeah, why?"

She wrapped her hand around your arm, as if to restrain you. Her touch made your skin crawl.

"I really don't think you should go in there."

You finally put the pieces together. This lady was just some anti-choice maniac, waiting outside a Planned Parenthood for any random pregnant woman to approach.

"Yeah, I totally carried this baby for five months just to get rid of it within a week of the legal termination threshold." You rolled your eyes. "I just want it to feel the maximum possible amount of pain when I destroy it."

The woman's face turned into one of abject horror and you smiled, feeling proud of yourself. You yanked your arm from her hand with full intent to walk away. That should have been the end of it.

"Wait!" She shouted, snatching you by the shoulder. "Please, reconsider. God gave you that little one because he wants you to be a mommy!"

"For the love of fuck, woman." You snarled. "Can you seriously not pick up on sarcasm? I'm not even going to the clinic. I'm going to the GameStop."

She wasn't convinced. "See, I think you're lying to me. I think you're telling me one thing and then you're gonna do another thing."

"What the hell is it any of your business, Karen?" You scowled at her. "Leave me alone!"

"Just pray about it, please!" She pleaded. "What if your baby grows up to be a soldier? Protecting your freedom?"

"Oh, then I should definitely kill it now." You snarked. "Would save him the trouble of getting blown up by other Americans in a senseless war like my dad."

Adda girl, [F/N]! You thought to yourself. Nothing gets nosy strangers to go away quite like revealing even more personal information!

She put both her hands on your protruding belly. "Don't worry, angel. Mommy isn't going to kill you! Aunt Laurie won't allow it!"

You vaguely remembered your obstetrician saying something about how twenty-week fetuses could hear the outside world. You weren't planning on subjecting the kid to violence this early on, but desperate times call for desperation.

You grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved her down. She screamed, getting the attention of a few onlookers.

"Help!" She wailed, lying on the ground as if she couldn't get up. "I'm being attacked!"

You dashed as quickly as your legs could carry you into the GameStop. The lone cashier, a purple-haired girl with a nose ring, pretended that she hadn't been watching the altercation and looked back down at her sandwich.

"Welcome to GameStop." She said, hesitantly. "Are you... [F/N]?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I'm here for that copy of Alpha Sapphire."

"Tubular." She rummaged in a drawer beside her for the envelope.

A rather massive eevee plush displayed behind the counter caught your eye. "How much for her?"

The cashier placed the game on the counter and looked back at the massive eevee. "Fourty-four ninety-five."

"I'll take her too." You said.

The cashier pulled the eevee down from the shelf and scanned its tag.

"Aight, your total is sixty-nine eighty." She said.

"Nice." You snickered, reaching for your credit card.

The cashier smirked as you inserted the chip. "Hey, was that crazy lady accosting you outside?"

"I take it she does that a lot?" You asked.

She heaved a sigh. "You have no idea."

You looked behind at the large windows and saw the woman standing outside the door, waiting for you. You felt like a caged animal. Your eyes scanned the room and landed on a couple ketchup packets. A sick idea formed in your head.

"Are you gonna use those?" You asked, pointing to them.

The cashier glanced at the woman and raised her eyebrow. "Not if you have a better use for them."

The bell jangled as you walked out of the store with a shopping bag around your wrist and a ketchup packet in each hand. Just as suspected, the woman grabbed your arm.

"Oh, honey!" She exclaimed. "Before you leave, god put it on my mind to say a little prayer for the unborn soldier he's gifted you in your womb."

"I'd rather you not." You said, trying to yank your arm out of her surprisingly strong grip.

"You're brave, but foolish, girl." She barked, positioning herself in front of you. You fidgeted with the ketchup packets behind your back, opening them just enough.

The woman put both her hands on your belly. The second you felt her touch, you threw yourself backwards. You landed, not without pain, squarely on your ass.

"Oh my?" The woman covered her mouth with her fingertips. "Are you--"

You leaned forward and moaned in pain, clutching your baby bump with one hand while drenching your shorts in ketchup with the other. You pretended to cave around the pain, then threw yourself back, revealing a bloody stain leaking from between your legs. The woman shrieked.

"Oh my fucking god!" The cashier from the store said, rushing to your side. She put her hand on your shoulder and glared at the woman. "What did you do?!?"

"She pushed me and I think it hurt my baby!" You wailed.

"Holy shit, why would you hurt her baby?!" The cashier shouted, allowing you to slink your arm around her shoulder for support. She then snatched your shopping bag from the ground.

"I didn't mean to, honest!" She said, on the verge of tears. "I was just trying to spread god's love and joy-"

"By assaulting a pregnant woman?!" The cashier yelled. You were clutching your stomach in fake pain. She helped you to your feet. "Come on, let's get you to the clinic."

You conjured up some fake tears. "You killed my baby!"

"You wicked woman!" She cried out. Her voice faded out as you approached the clinic. "You don’t deserve a baby!"

You kept up the crying and wailing until you arrived at the Planned Parenthood. More interested in covering her own ass than begging for forgiveness, the crazy woman made herself scarce. Entering the clinic with an incriminating bloodstain on your pants was awkward, for a moment. But it was easy enough to explain and even earned a laugh or two from the doctors on staff.

Once you were completely certain the crazy lady had left, you scooped up your shopping bag, said goodbye to the cashier and climbed into the car.

Before you put the key in the ignition, you took a moment. You took a moment to do something you knew you shouldn't have.

You placed your hand on your belly and stroked it. "We make a pretty good team, huh?"

You didn't know why you paused. It wasn't like the fetus was going to answer.

"Sorry you had to see that." You said. "Or, I guess, hear that. I wish I could tell you that people aren't really like that in real life, but I can't. Either that or I'm just a magnet for insane people. Hope that it's not genetic."

It just occurred to you that, if your obstetrician was right, the fetus heard everything that you said about killing it. Logically speaking, you knew it wasn't developed enough to comprehend what you were saying, but you still felt like you owed it an apology.

"Hey, scamp." You said, appropriating a nickname your grandfather gave you. "I'm sorry that I talked all that shit back there. About killing you and whatnot. I don't want to kill you. I actually want you to live an amazing life."

Just then, you felt a kick. The doctor war right: there was no mistaking it. The baby kicked.

Your mouth hung dumbly open, delight and fear chasing each other around in your mind. "Holy crap!"

You drove home as fast as legally possible. You needed to get home. As you pulled into the driveway, you noticed that Hannibal's car wasn't there.

He'll be home any minute, you thought. Might as well stay out here to catch him when he arrives.

That was an hour ago. Not that you'd noticed. You would have sat in that car, talking to your baby for an eternity. It wasn't until you heard a tapping on the window did you exit your trance.

Hannibal examined the scene. The ketchup, the massive eevee and his suddenly very chatty fiancée shooting the breeze with her fetus. He smirked.

"Did we have a fun afternoon?"

#hannibal x you #hannibal nbc #hannibal x reader #hannibal lecter #hannibal lecter x reader #cult girl #cult girl doctorate #cult girl 2 #tw abortion #tw pro life #Karen

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nalgenewhore · 3 years

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masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter

☽ ☼ ☾

six years ago.

“I so am not going,” Elide shouted, gripping the slats of her headboard as her roommate pulled on her ankles. “I was at the shop all day, I’m tired.”

“Elide Lochan, get your bodacious bod out of bed and into something spooky,” Aelin commanded, bracing a high-heeled foot against the sideboard. “Get. Up. Now.” Elide groaned and flipped onto her back, blowing her bangs up with a huffed breath. They glared at each other, neither backing down. Aelin clicked her tongue, “Come on, it’s Samhain!”

“All the more reason not to go,” the dark haired girl said, crossing her arms across her chest. “It’s the sabbath - I will not go to your blasphemous boyfriend’s blasphemous party.”

“You know you love Ro-Ro. And c’mon,” Aelin whined, not above stomping her foot like a petulant child, “it’ll be fun!”

She sighed loudly and flicked her eyes upwards, “Fine. I’ll go.” Elide pushed herself to sitting and stood up. Aelin clapped her hands and collapsed onto the mattress as Elide slunk to her closet and flung the doors open. “I think… goth Barbie. Yes, no?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” her friend agreed, lounging about as Elide perused her wardrobe.

First, she pulled out her patch jeans. Not tonight. She looked at a corset dress and hummed, her head tilted to the side, “Maybe…” Elide unhooked a PVC pencil skirt and spun to Aelin, “Thoughts?”

Aelin propped herself up on her elbows, her brilliant eyes narrowed in scrutiny, “Ooh, with your new corset and the red top with the sleeves?” She made a vague gesture to represent the long sleeves. “Oh, wait, let me get you some shoes. I have the perfect boots.” Her long hair was a flash of gold as she launched herself up and out of Elide’s room.

Elide tossed her outfit onto her now vacated bed and sat at her vanity, fluffing her layered pixie-shag hair cut. She plugged in her hair straightener and as she waited for it to heat, she started on her make-up.

When the door was slammed open, Elide held her finger up. She filled in her wicked sharp eyeliner and used the tip of her ring finger to smudge some along her lower lash line. Then she stood up and turned, eyes landing on the red patent leather ankle boots. “Are those them?”

“Mm-hmm, how perfect are they,” Aelin asked, passing them to Elide. “I’ve been meaning to give these to you - they’re too small for me.”

“Ae, these are gorgeous,” Elide gushed, picking one up and running her fingers over it. “They’re beautiful, are you sure?” She hugged it to her chest, softly petting it.

Brilliant laughter spilled from Aelin’s glossy lips, “Yes, take them, please. I never wear them, I only bought them ‘cause they were, like, seventy-five percent off.”

“Oh, I love love love you,” Elide sang. She picked up her phone and opened her music, choosing a playlist at random. Her hips swayed to the bouncing beat of I’m Gonna Love You Too and Aelin laughed, singing along and dancing around.

Elide picked up her straightening iron and held it like a microphone, dramatically reaching towards her roommate, “You’re gonna say you’ve a-missed me, you’re gonna say you’ll a-kiss me…”

“Yes, you’re gonna say you’ll a-love me, ‘cause I’m a-gonna love you too,” Aelin sang, shimmying her shoulders.

Elide sat and hummed as she revamped her layers, curling them upwards into horn-like wisps. She clicked the straightener off and stood up, laughing and joking with Aelin as she got dressed. Once the underbust corset belt was snug and tied, Elide zipped her skirt up and smoothed any fussy wrinkles away. She twirled and popped her hand on her hip, “Well?”

Aelin studied her. Then she stood up and plucked the toy tiara Elide had once used in a costume and put it on her head. “There.”

Elide turned around and looked at herself in the mirror, fixing the tiara. “And now?”

“Be still, my foolish heart,” Aelin proclaimed, tapping her hand over her chest in an imitation of her beating heart. “You look absolutely ravishing, darling girl.”

Elide smiled and held her hand out, “Shall we? It’d be rude of the host’s girlfriend to be late.”

Aelin slung her arm around Elide’s waist and pulled her towards the door, “I thought I told you already, I’m never late. Everyone else is simply early.”

“Oh, yes, how could I have forgotten?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea, Elide,” she sniffed, primly turning her nose up. “Everyone should listen to what I say all the time. How else will the world turn round right?”

“You are my favourite person in the world, golden girl,” Elide laughed.

“I better be, I put a roof over your head and booze in your stomach.”

Elide laughed again and unscrewed the lid off the vodka bottle, pouring them both generous shots in the bottom of two random glasses. She passed Aelin hers and lofted her own, “To…?”

“Being, young, wicked smart, fucking hot and having zero responsibilities!”

☽ ☼ ☾

As he walked up the pathway to the creaking, booming house, he could feel countless sets of eyes burning into him. He rolled his shoulders and resisted the urge to glare at those staring. Honestly, he should’ve been used to it by now. It was either his height, his hip-length hair in a loose braid, or his… aggressive wardrobe.

Fenrys, the little shit, told him it was because of the frown on his face, but Lorcan didn’t believe him. He never had a shortage of offers, from whomever he so wanted and so chose. He thought it was because people considered him to be a challenge, a lost and wandering soul to tether.

Lorcan was just genuinely disinterested. That twelfth grade pipsqueak didn’t know what he was talking about. Lorcan regretted the day he ever agreed to let the high schooler’s band play a show at the club. The boy fell in love every single day with a new person.

Almost as if he had summoned him, someone familiar crashed into his back, lanky legs wrapping around his torso and reedy arms locking around his neck. Lorcan groaned and shook the kid off, “Fen, fuck off. Go home, you have school tomorrow.”

The dark-skinned boy hopped around to face him, a maniacal grin splitting his face in two, “No, sir, I got a pro-D day tomorrow. I’m up all night, all night, boy!” Fenrys howled and Lorcan shook his head at him, muttering something rude. Fenrys slung his arm around Lorcan’s waist, “Say, what are you doing here, Lor? I didn’t think the law students let anarchists in their fêtes, as it were.”

“See, my plan is to stay until they toss me out on my ass. I think I’m pretty unnoticeable, yeah?”

Fenrys laughed and slapped Lorcan’s back, over his patch jacket, “Yeah, thank the gods that you don’t have a huge red ‘A’ on the back of your coat or whatever.” Lorcan snorted. “I mean, you’re not all master of disguise like me.”

Lorcan eyed the spikes Fenrys had styled his kinky, dense hair into and chose not to comment. “How was your show tonight?”

“Dude!” Fenrys shouted, “It was crazy. I thought my arms would fall off.”

The boy started imitating playing the drums, violently, and Lorcan shook his head, “Come on, kid, let’s go.” He slung his arm across Fenrys’ shoulders and steered the drummer into the kitchen. Under the lights, Lorcan saw a flash of silver-blond hair, “Look, there’s Rowan, go talk to him.”

“Yo, Whitethorn,” Fenrys yelled, his hands cupped around his mouth. Lorcan rubbed his eyes, muttering something. Rowan turned around and smiled, lifting his hand to wave. He grabbed something and made his way over to them.

“Hey, man,” Lorcan said.

“Hey, guys, thanks for coming,” Rowan said, passing Lorcan a can of beer. “You just get here?”

“Yeah,” Lorcan said, “I had some stuff for class and Fen had a show.”

Rowan nodded, “Oh, you know what, you should tell me when your next show is so I can come.” He looked so eager, so earnest, Lorcan almost felt bad for him.

Fenrys roared with laughter and cuffed Rowan’s shoulder, “That’s fuckin’ funny, man, I’m going to go see if I can find Ashryver.” He departed, his head bopping to the beat of the music.

Rowan turned to Lorcan, his brows furrowed, “Funny? Why?”

Lorcan pressed his lips together to avoid smiling, “I think that Fenrys is saying that his music… it isn’t really your style, ya dig? It’s very nice of you to support him, but c’mon, Rowan. You went to one show last year and were scared to touch anything. Now we have to go find Fen ‘cause I’m not dropping him off at home wasted again. Emrys will beat me to death and cook me.”

His silver-haired friend laughed and they walked to where they could see Fenrys’ bleached-blond liberty spikes sticking above everyone else’s head. He was standing at one end of a ping-pong table, opposite two stunning women. The dark-haired one caught Lorcan’s eye and he stared for a moment, trying to figure out where he recognised her from.

“Salvaterre, do you want to keep drooling over my little sister or do you want to play?”

“I hope you choke to death on Rowan’s dick, Ash,” Lorcan replied evenly. He didn’t turn his gaze from the girl, who stared back at him, her eyes brazenly surveying him. Lorcan saw the challenge in her eye melt into heated appreciation. He ducked his head to hide his barely-there grin from Aelin’s hawkish glare and bounced a ping-pong ball off the table, “Are we playing or do you just want to keep guarding your sister’s virginity for eternity?”

The woman standing next to Aelin cackled with delight and leaned over the table, “It’s a little too late for that, but it gives her a sense of purpose now. I’m Elide, if you ever want to stop referring to me as ‘Aelin’s little sister’.”

He laughed quietly, “It’s nice to meet you, Elide. I’m Lorcan, this is Fenrys,” he gestured to the boy next to him. Fenrys gave her a toothy grin and a two-fingered salute. “So, are we playing or what?”

“That sounds like a challenge, Lorcan,” Elide mused. Lorcan arched a brow and slowly looked her up and down. The black skirt she wore clung to her sinful curves and the corset cinched her waist tightly. Against her pale complexion, the blood red, long sleeve top she wore made an alluring and tempting contrast, matching her crimson-painted lips.

“Maybe it is,” he countered, tilting his head to the side.

Her eyes sparkled with something and she kissed the ping-pong ball before tossing it. It soared in a perfect arch and landed directly in the cup nearest to him. Lorcan’s brows raised and Elide laughed a delicate, smokey and sultry sound, “I like a challenge.”

☽ ☼ ☾

“Come with me,” Elide said, holding her hand out expectantly.

Lorcan looked between her outstretched hand and her face warily, “Where to?”

“The kitchen,” she said, waving her fingers, “c’mon, my drink is empty.”

He stood and let her pull her behind him, laughing under his breath at her cockiness. Lorcan drained the last of his drink and tapped it against his bottom lip. “Where do I know you from? I feel like I’ve met you before.”

She turned and walked backwards, their joined hands hanging between them, “Hmmm… I don’t know. I go to the Vaults a lot, maybe I’ve seen you there?” she asked, referencing the local punk club near the university. Elide gave him a cheeky once-over, “You seem to be of that… persuasion.”

“As do you,” Lorcan replied, nodding his chin towards her layered, wisp-filled pixie cut. “Very Twilight of you, I must say, princess.” He reached out and flicked her tiara.

As they arrived at the kitchen, Elide dropped his hand and hopped up onto the counter beside the collection of various bottles of alcohol. His hand tingled at the loss of contact and he squeezed his fingers into a fist. “I love me some Alice Cullen. She was my queer awakening.”

“Ah, mine was Heath Ledger,” he replied back, smug. Lorcan grabbed the bottle of whiskey and poured a long, long shot into his cup. Then he got a can of Coke from the ice filled cooler and poured that to the rim. Elide chuckled when he bent to sip in case of a spill.

Lorcan pushed his hair back as he stood back up and watched her pour a sickeningly green liquor into her cup. “Damn, that’s… green, shit, Lochan.”

“Yeah, I like my tongue spooky colours,” she said with a shrug, putting the green one down and drowning it in vodka and Sprite. “Don’t you?”

He laughed, “Maybe. What kind of spooky are you talking about?”

Elide hummed coyly, taking a sip of her, indeed, spooky drink, “All kinds of freaky shit.” She patted his arm, “So, if you live with Ro, why do I never see you?”

“Oh, I’m- I’m a photographer so I’m not home much,” he said, drinking from his cup. “I go to a lot of concerts and stuff.” Lorcan leaned against the counter opposite her and lifted his leg to kick her foot. “So what do you do, hmm? Are you in the art program?”

Elide tilted her head to the side, “Well, I was. I dropped out first year for a tattoo apprenticeship and I’ve been doing that for a few years,” she said, scrunching her nose up.

“Y’know what, I think we had a class together first year. I think I… spilt coffee on your drawing.”

Her eyes lit with recognition, “Oh my gods, yes! I so remember you, I was so mad about that.”

He ducked his head, “I’m real sorry about that.” A lopsided grin spread across his lips and he looked up, “So, where are you apprenticing?”

“The Omega on Main street, you know it? Run by Blackbeaks, exclusively?”

“Holy fuck, yes. I’m getting a tattoo there next week,” Lorcan said, his eyes wide. “Their tattoos are… amazing. It’s fucking art work.”

“I know! You know, if you know what you’re getting, I might’ve worked on it.”

“I’m getting an old school, traditional style raven on my chest,” Lorcan said, gesturing from shoulder to shoulder and down his sternum. “I got one of the freaky twins. Fallon, I think.”

Elide nodded, “Fallon is amazing. She’s actually hilarious when you’re with her one on one. She likes Enya and has her on her tattooing playlist, so prepare for that.” She hopped off the counter and hooked her finger in his belt loop. Elide pulled him, once again, and guided him towards a couch. They sat down, Elide’s legs haphazardly strewn across his lap. Lorcan’s hand splayed above her knee and he toyed with a rip in her tights.

Lorcan rested his chin on her shoulder and bumped his nose into her jaw, “So, what’s your Samhain declaration?”

She leaned backwards and regarded him seductively, “Hmm… to new things and new… people.”

Lorcan lifted his cup and said: “To new things and new… people.”

☽ ☼ ☾

Lorcan wrangled Fenrys, “Boyo, come on. I gotta get you home.” He sighed and tossed the bony boy over his shoulder.

Elide shrugged on her faux-fur coat - white with black hearts - and laughed at the sight as she fluffed her hair, “Aww, you take good care of your baby. Look at the little guy.”

He grinned and leaned against the porch column. “He sure is a champ in the morning. So perky,” Lorcan slapped Fenrys’ ass and chuckled when Fenrys whined, drowsily mumbling a protest.

She giggled tipsily and walked out, impressively straight given how much vodka she’d consumed. “I’m a Blackbeak, bitch. We bleed vodka,” Elide said, pronouncing the last word with the accent of her mother.

“Oh, shit,” Lorcan mumbled, “I didn’t mean to say that outloud. Whoopsies.”

Elide laughed and patted his cheek before she leaned in and kissed his face, “Goodnight, my darling.”

He laughed, the sound slightly choked, “G’night, princess.”

She clicked her tongue and walked down the steps, going to the cab she’d called. “Give Fenny Poo some meds and water and don’t call me ‘princess’!”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Don’t call me that either!”

“As you wish, princess.”

She scoffed and held her middle finger up high, “I loathe your existence, Salvaterre!”

“Oh, don’t be mean to me, please, gorgeous, I’ll fall in love with you,” he crooned, smiling wildly.

In retrospect, it hadn’t seemed so likely.

☽ ☼ ☾

an: i luv them 🥺couple notes: - aelin & rowan r three years older than elide & lorcan, fenrys is in twelfth grade ! - lorcan is anarcho-punk and elide is riot grrrl !

songs played in chapter: (by order of appearance) 1. I'm Gonna Love You Too - Blondie (cover of original by buddy holly)

@mythicaitt @werewolffprince @schmlip-scribble @the-regal-warrior @ladyverena @ttakeitbacknoww @shyvioletcat @alifletcher2012 @tswaney17 @ourbooksuniverse @flora-and-fae @thesirenwashere @queenofxhearts @maastrash @mynewdreamwasyou @cursebreaker29 @empress-ofbloodshed @b00kworm @hizqueen4life @silversprings98 @amren-courtofdreams @minaidss @superspiritfestival @sanakapoor @ireallyshouldsleeprn @spyofthenightcourt @thegoddessofyou @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx @claralady @neonhellas @darlinminds @readingismyonlyhobby @autophobiaxx @silversprings28 @myshadowsingeraz @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @elriel4life @always-in-a-daydream @jlinez @ladywitchling @mariamuses @darklesmylove @adelzd-bookblr

#star-crossed & moon drunk #sc&md chapter two #elorcan #elide x lorcan #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #stella luna salvaterre lochan #isa writes #nalgenewhore

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carewyncromwell · 3 years

Photo

“I think that somehow, somewhere inside of us, We must be similar, if not the same, So I continue to be wanting you, Left of center, against the grain... And if you want me, you can find me Left of center, off of the strip, In the outskirts and in the fringes, In the corner, out of the grip...” ~“Left of Center,” by Suzanne Vega

x~x~x~x

I BLAME THAT OTP AU ASK FOR THIS COMPLETELY. Once I got the image of Hipster!Barista!Orion in my head, I just had to slap it down on paper to get it out of my head.

A few notes on his tattoos: on his neck, you might just barely make out a hamsa, or Hand of Fatima, which can protect against the evil eye and bring good fortune; on the outside of Orion’s arm closest to us, we have a magpie surrounding by flowing ocean waves, and finally, on the inside of his other arm that you can’t see as well is the Orion constellation. And he has multiple piercings because of course he does.

So yes. Orion Amari is a senior barista at a coffee shop called the Jam City Cafe (LOL) who’s best known for his wonderfully chill attitude and for his tendency to dispense oddly wise advice to his more regular patrons. It wouldn’t be unlikely to see him in a supporting role in some Hollywood hopeful’s screenplay as this odd sage that helps the leading lady with her romantic turmoil in the third act and then disappears into the void, never to be seen again. And honestly, as much of a fixture as Orion is at the coffee shop and therefore in many people’s day-to-day existence, not a lot of people know him very well. Most people don’t know that he was a philosophy major in college, or that he was the captain and second striker of his high school football team, or that he was raised exclusively in foster care, with no permanent home to call his own. But Orion isn’t troubled by this -- he’s always been sort of on the outside looking in and he’s more than used to people not understanding his thought process. As long as his life remains interesting and he’s able to eventually get where he wants to go, that’s all that really matters. And in the meantime, he’ll keep on making orders for his regular customers -- “Doppio with extra foam,” “Iced White Caffe Mocha,” “Cafe au Lait spiked with Kahlua” -- he knows them by their orders more than their names.

One regular customer in particular, who Orion is rather fond of, is the one he calls “Salted Caramel Macchiato,” or just “Caramel,” casually. She’s always the first customer to pick up a cup of coffee every morning when the shop opens at 4:00, and she almost always sweeps back in the evening so as to work on her laptop for a few hours while sipping another. She’ll often have music playing in her earbuds while she’s working at her laptop, meaning Orion wasn’t able to talk to her for the longest time for fear of disrupting her focus -- so instead he would merely watch her curiously. From watching, Orion sussed out that she worked in a law office -- he noticed a logo letterhead featuring a set of scales on one of the documents she was editing on her laptop one day. And admittedly, she did dress the part too: every time he saw Caramel, she always wore sharp tailored jackets, colorful blouses, and vintage A-line skirts or wide-leg trousers, her ginger hair was always combed into a neat bob, and her lips were painted a daring red. Despite her conservative and very put-together look and the meticulous regularity of her schedule, however, Caramel did possess some interesting quirks. For one, her music didn’t match her look at all -- there were times Orion could hear the faintest sounds of rock and roll blaring out of her earbuds. Other times she actually would absently sing some of the songs aloud, and her half-hearted voice actually sounded kind of pretty. Her laptop wallpaper was a family picture with her standing with what looked like an older brother and her mother outside their lit-up house at Christmas with snow in their hair and trying desperately not to laugh while the older brother dances about, wearing his Christmas scarf like a feather boa. Whenever she’d turn on her laptop, Caramel would always take a minute to look over the picture and smile fondly before getting to work. Then there was the fact that she wasn’t the least bit stuck-up -- even if she didn’t really have time to socialize, she always looked every employee, from the baristas to the cleaning staff, straight in the eye and thanked them, rather than just treat them like automatons like a lot of the other customers that would stroll through. She also always tipped.

And so, the one evening that Orion was closing and he saw Caramel not wearing her earbuds, he approached her. Apparently someone snatched the earbuds out of her desk at work that day, and so she decided not to play any music while she worked, so as not to disrupt anyone. Since Orion and Caramel were the only ones in the shop that night, Orion said he wouldn’t mind if she wanted to play something.

“Preferably something softer than what you were playing yesterday, however,” he added with a wry smile.

Caramel had to laugh behind her hand, her almond-shaped blue eyes creasing slightly. “Oh -- I’m sorry, did it bother you?”

“Not at all,” said Orion. “But it did make for an entertaining image, seeing someone so poised fighting back the urge to headbang to the beat in her ears.”

Caramel smiled. “What can I say? Queen is iconic.”

Turning her focus back to her laptop, she then proceeded to turn on some slightly quieter soft rock, including a song about butterflies that she said was by Michael Jackson. She couldn’t help but sing along to the chorus once or twice under her breath -- the second time when she caught herself, Caramel quickly glanced up at Orion as if to apologize, only to meet his eyes.

“You have a lovely voice,” he complimented her.

Caramel glanced away, smiling modestly. “...Thank you.”

“I liked the song you were singing last Tuesday,” he pressed on, as he brought his cleaning rag along the espresso machine behind the counter. “I would’ve said so at the time, but you looked to be in no state to have a conversation.”

Carewyn gave something of a grimace. “Mm...yeah, Tuesday was a bit rough.”

Orion placed his arms on the counter and leaned forward, clearly ready to listen. Caramel, however, shook her head dismissively.

“Work drama. Nothing that exciting, just exhausting enough that you want an escape from it, when the workday is done...”

She typed away at her laptop as the next song in her playlist started.

“Which artist sings this?” asked Orion, as he shifted himself back up off the counter so he could continue cleaning.

“Suzanne Vega.”

Orion listened for a moment, closing his eyes absently. “...This is her, I think. The musician you were singing along to on Tuesday. There is a similar aura, to the lyrics -- detached and understated, and yet rhythmic in its poetry.”

Caramel’s almond-shaped blue eyes lit up. “Oh, I know which song you mean now...hold on...”

She opened her music directory and browsed the songs until she found what she was looking for and double-clicked on it. Once it started, Orion’s mouth spread into a full smile.

“That’s the one,” he said.

He spritzed the counter with some cleaner and started to wipe it down.

“Sing as loud as you’d like,” he added without looking up. “Calming music can be very helpful in finding one’s center of balance.”

Caramel cocked an eyebrow. “‘Finding one’s center of balance?’”

“Certainly. One always does their best work when one’s mind is at peace, their spirit focused, and their aura balanced, wouldn’t you say?”

“I suppose so. I just don’t know if I would’ve phrased it that way.”

“As to be expected,” said Orion. “You seem like the sort of person who never is at a loss for how to phrase things in your own way.”

Caramel blinked. Then her lips spread into a full, wry white smile of her own.

“And you seem like the sort of person who anyone would be foolish to underestimate.”

Orion’s black eyes glittered with something oddly like mischief as Caramel once again returned to typing away on her laptop. Not long after, he caught her singing along to the song in a fuller voice: the perfect accompaniment for him while he finished bussing the counter.

Caramel’s voice was really quite pretty -- like a robin’s.

From that day on, Caramel would take out her earbuds if she and Orion were the only ones in the cafe during closing hours. Sometimes they’d chat about philosophy, or animals, or the Olympic games -- once they even had a deep, meandering conversation about the movie Labyrinth being a metaphor for a young woman coming of age and the importance of fantasy stories to a child’s developing mind. And on those nights that were more crowded and Caramel had her earbuds in her ears, Orion couldn’t help but “reach out” anyway by drawing little custom designs in the foam of her Salted Caramel Macchiatos. One of his very first was a Michael-Jackson-worthy butterfly.

#'football' meaning soccer to us americans XD;#because really could you see orion playing american football?? uh no #I think this'll just be a one-shot guys #I actually know nothing about coffee shops I don't drink coffee LMAO #but I did think the image was cute #<3 #hphm #hogwarts mystery #my art #au #coffee shop au #orion amari #carewyn cromwell #my writing

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matthewtkachuk · 4 years

Text

still not sorry - pope heyward

the one where pope broke your heart, but still can’t say he’s sorry

pairing: pope heyward x kook!reader

warnings: angsty still (sry)

word count: 1.1k oops

a/n: oops, continuation of this blurb. s/o to @ptersparkers and @bluesiderudy and my spotify release radar playlist for inspiring part 2 I’ll get back to my blurb night requests tomorrow!!

“I don’t know what you see in him,” Scarlett mused over the rim of her mimosa. You rolled your eyes, you’d had this conversation with your girls so many times over it feels routine at this point.

“He’s smart and sweet and he likes me,” you told her for probably the third time that week alone. There were a million more things you could say about Pope, that he saw past how much money your mommy and dad had, that he was the first one to tell you that you were more than just your parent’s daughter, that you had value beyond being someone’s trophy wife. But there was no point, Scarlett’s mind was made up. To her, and truthfully almost everyone else you cared about, he was just a dirty pogue who would some day break your heart.

“Yeah, but you could say that about any guy on our side of the island,” Scarlett replied, taking two tries to successfully attach her cherry-red lips to the straw. Always a bit of a lightweight, she was clearly feeling the effects of two strong bevvys.

“You really can’t,” you rebutted, “name one guy you would call ‘sweet’ and I’ll buy the next round.” She thought carefully for a second, chewing on the inside of her cheek before she shrugged.

“Alright, you win this round. Mark my words though, babe, you’re gonna get your heartbroken.” You had laughed and finished off your drink, secure in the thought that your sweet boyfriend would never.

You were foolish, naïve, stupid even. To think that true love or whatever would be enough to cross the proverbial line in the sand between the two sides of the island. You had loved Pope despite or maybe even because of his status as a pogue. In turn, he hadn’t been able to look past your privileged upbringing. It was ironic, you thought, that they were so comfortable believing you to be the model of the kook stereotype, meanwhile they accepted two kooks into their ranks without hesitation. For the first few days you wallowed in that knowledge, that it wasn’t necessarily that you were a kook, but that the kook was you.

You had driven right to Scarlett’s front door after leaving John B’s, tears blocking your vision. You didn’t remember all of the drive, scarily having relied on muscle memory alone to get you there. Crying into her lap, she had soothingly ran her hands through your hair, lightly scraping at your scalp with her manicured fingernails. To her credit, she had only told you ‘I told you so’ once that first night, preferring to let you cry and let it all out. “Your heart is too big, y/n y/l/n,” she told you, “and he wasn’t worthy of it.”

Word had travelled in your circles quickly. A week later, you were spending time at the club with Scarlett, who was very satisfied with herself for not only getting you to shower and dress cute, but also dragging you out of your house where you had been hiding for days. You spotted the boys, fresh from a game of golf, shrinking down in your seat to try and make yourself smaller. You weren’t sure you had the strength for Topper, Kelce and Rafe’s inevitable ‘I told you so’s. If you thought Scarlett wasn’t supportive of your new relationship, those three put her to shame. You knew there was no lack of bad blood between them all, but you were blown away by their strong opposition to the relationship. Always protective of you, they didn’t think Pope was good enough for you.

It didn’t matter, because the second Scarlett spotted Kelce, she was waving them over. Bracing yourself for the worst, the worst never came. Instead, Topper nudged your shoulder with his in a show of silent support and Kelce sent you a supportive smile before sitting next to Scarlett and wrapping his arm around her. Rafe’s reaction was the strangest of them all, simply sitting next to you and asking you softly if you were okay. You just shrugged, what could you say, only a week ago the man you loved had taken your heart and ripped it apart.

“You were too good for him, y/n. Just say the word and we can take care of him for you,” He told you seriously, Topper and Kelce nodding in agreement. Truthfully, you didn’t know if it was for your benefit or just for an excuse to beat the pogue up, but you just shook your head.

Somehow, Scarlett is able to convince you to head to the boneyard, despite knowing the possibility of seeing Pope is almost a guarantee. To your chagrin, you’re not drunk enough when he corners you alone.

“Listen, y/n, I’ve been calling you…” He’s not looking at you in your eyes, rather he’s staring down at the sand.

“I wouldn’t know, Scarlett blocked your number,” you tell him honestly. Your best friend had resorted to the desperate measure two days into your wallowing, as you had cried about wanting to answer when he called. His eyes finally met yours at your words, looking hurt.

“y/n, you have to let me explain,” he begged again, reminiscent of when your relationship had imploded. “I love you,” Just a week ago, those three words would have sent your heart soaring, and truthfully you did feel your heart constrict at the information, but it was a case of too little, not good enough.

“When you love someone, you don’t talk shit about them behind their back, or let your friends insult them.” You snap back, fingernails digging into the palm of your hand from how tightly you’re clenching your fists.

“Just, let me explain, okay? John B and JJ were-“ you don’t even give him the courtesy of finishing his sentence, snapping back at him.

“Don’t you get it? You hurt me so bad, there’s no coming back from that. There’s nothing you could say that would make me change my mind. Despite what you and your friends think, I am a good person, I love a lot and sometimes I give that love to the wrong people,” he winces at that, “I know my worth, and I know I’m worth more than someone who is so ashamed of me, they speak terribly of me when I’m not around.”

“So that’s just it, then?” He asks, chest deflating.

“You didn’t even say you were sorry, did I not deserve that?” You ask, earlier anger dissipating in favour of misery.

Before he can answer, Rafe appears at your side, asking you, “Is he bothering you?” Topper and Kelce are close behind him, Scarlett probably saw Pope corner you and sent them.

“Doesn’t matter,” you say, turning your back on Pope, “I was just leaving.” Linking your arms with Rafe, you let him lead you away from Pope, heart breaking again at the realization that this is actually the end.

Pope is left there alone again, realizing that his mistake might have permanently cost you. Worse yet, he thinks he may have driven you right into Rafe’s arms.

my everything tag list: @velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @ohfreyfrey @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank

#pope obx #pope x you #pope x reader #pope x y/n #pope imagine #pope heyward x you #pope heyward x reader #pope heyward x y/n #pope heyward imagine #pope heyward fanfiction #diverdcwn writes #tuserscout

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toujourseven · 3 years

Text

Under the Radar | 3

A/N: Flashback!

Sorry for those expecting a steamy continuation of the ménage à trois. We'll get back to that in the next chapters. (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

I kind of decided to include a plot. It just flowed and it would be nice to put some late 20s perspective as the boys are slowly growing up to be dadd-- adults ahem. I hope you enjoy and I am SO SORRY for the late update.I will try to add Chapter 3 next week. keyword: try!!

Do you guys prefer --short chapters but frequent updates OR --long chapters but longer updates?

Stream PTD for baton pass!!! （＊＾ω＾）♪ hugsssss find me on twt @toujourseven ʕっ•ᴥ•ʔっ

Plot: RM of world-renowned group BTS met you on his private vacation. Things get serious as you both value the same things, including relationships– monogamous relationships, or?

Flashback-- 2 months ago

You moved the gear into park and reached for your camera bag haphazardly thrown in the backseat. You were so excited to walk around the hidden coast as part of your solo travels. You looked around the area and noticed that it was indeed a secluded place, judging by the lack of people milling around. There were a couple of local restaurants attached into the residents’ houses. And a lone bus stop can be seen just along the edge of the parking bay.

It was late in the afternoon and it was the perfect time to capture some photos. You marveled at the pink sand and long stretch of beach. Nobody was swimming, and only a handful of people were scattered along the beach. A couple were laid on a blanket on one area, and a man was sitting atop some rocks with his headphones on. You walked farther ahead where you won’t disturb the other nature spectators and filmed a couple of videos and photos for your travel vlog. The peaceful vibe also stimulated your brain and it pushed you to record some prose on your phone. Nothing can spark creativity better than nature, and sadness, you suppose.

After the sun has set, your stomach began growling. You only ate brunch and you realized it was not good to be this hungry if you were planning to eat lots of seafood for dinner. You traced back your steps towards the local businesses and chose a quaint restaurant with a rustic theme. The locals were friendly and one of the residents hanging out even sat beside your table to chat with you. After a comfortable pause, while the aged woman let you eat your meal, you heard her think out loud, “Oh poor dear, there are no more buses that come at this hour. He must have missed his ride. The next bus will arrive tomorrow morning.”

You followed her gaze and you saw the man wearing headphones earlier sitting under the bus shed, checking his watch and looking back and forth the road. Suddenly, the friendly woman stood up, presumably to inform the man of his mishap.

You finished your meal and was paying for it when the old woman returned, the man with headphones in tow. He was very tall and he was wearing a cap and a mask. He looked awkward and a bit sheepish, he must have realized his mistake already. “Oh hey dear, thank goodness you are still here. You mentioned that you were going back to the city tonight, correct? Would you be so kind to give this man a ride on your way?” Then the woman ushered closer to you and stage-whispered, “It’s fine, he’s a jolly nice man, and I made sure he is not dangerous.” Then in a normal volume of voice, “He’s a tourist too and he had some miscommunications back at the station. But he is in dire need to get back tonight, you understand, don’t you sweetie?” She hugged you close and offered the both of you a sweet smile.

The man rubbed the back of his neck and he looked completely embarrassed. You were more than happy to offer your help but you can’t say you feel too confident riding with a stranger for a 5-hour drive back to the city.

“I’m really really sorry to impose, but I have an appointment early in the morning and I won’t be able to make it in time even if my… friend drives down here at this hour.” You noticed that his voice was deep and he kept his face lowered which did nothing to ease your worries of driving with a stranger.

“Oh sweetie, you need to loosen up a bit. Maybe show a bit of your face to gain this lady’s trust. No one wants to drive with a faceless man.”

The man hesitatingly removed his cap and mask, then you gasped softly. You looked around to make sure no one else was around, or no one else had seen. No way. Maybe he just looks like him. But then, why hide? “That’s fine, you can put the mask back on.” You forced a laugh then addressed the old woman, “Better to be safe, right? With the virus and all.” You cleared your throat, and the man looked a little bit hesitant and more wary of you as he put on his mask.

“We’ll get going now, ma’am. Thank you so much for a delightful chat. I hope to get back soon.” You gathered your things and led the man to your car. Before you opened your door, you faced him and asked, “Best to get this out of the way first. My name is Jane, and I am an allied health professional. I live in New South Wales, and here’s my identification.” You showed him your drivers’ license. “Now, are you perhaps, a celebrity?” You stared him down- well, up, since he’s a lot taller. And your tone is reminiscent of a teacher scolding a child. But you just couldn’t help yourself. He must have felt the same way, because he answered with a small voice, “Yeah.” With his head still bowed down. You took a deep calming breath before continuing, “And you think it safe to travel in the suburbs of Australia, by yourself, without transportation??” You knew you sounded accusatory, considering you were talking to a stranger, but you just couldn’t believe how careless and thoughtless and dangerous the whole situation was. He squared up his shoulders a bit here and defended, “Well, I thought it was safe since it won’t be crowded in this particular locaion, and I did have a ticket back. I just…” he scratched his head and sighed.

A cold breeze fluttered your coat open, and you shivered. “Maybe, we should continue this inside.” He suggested, eyeing your shivering frame. You conceded, and both of you got comfortable inside your vehicle. You removed your coat, and he finally removed his cap and mask and ruffled his hair. You still couldn’t believe your eyes, but there was no mistaking it.

When you didn’t move, he looked at you and smiled, flashing his pretty dimples (curse him), and extended his hand, “Forgive me for forgetting my manners. Pleased to meet you, I’m Kim Namjoon.”

You gulped and shook his hand. You couldn’t say anything, so you just nodded and completed your pre-driving routine. You completely forgot that your phone automatically connects to your speakers and RM’s Seoul started playing. You froze and accidentally stepped on the brake. “Fuck.” You heard him snort and then laugh. “Sorry about that,” you muttered, referring to your embarrassing driving skills. Then he asked with dimples flashing, “So, you’re an Army huh?” You glared at him for a second then focused on driving.

“Well, the songs are good, can you blame me?” Then he chuckled and freakin rapped along. Your heart beat so fast because you couldn’t believe Kim Namjoon is rapping along Seoul while he is in the passenger seat of your car. Fucking surreal.

After a few minutes of silence, with just your playlist in the background, you told him, “You can sleep if you want, you did mention you still have a schedule in the morning.” You glanced at him and he was wearing an incredulous look. You paused, oh yeah. It would be more foolish to sleep in a stranger’s car. “Or not. Forgot about me being a stranger thing. And worse, a fan!” You chuckled. “No, it’s not that. I just don’t think it’s polite to sleep while you are driving for me. The least I could do is accompany you.” You smiled softly. You’re not even surprised he is that thoughtful. “Also,” he cleared his throat, “I don’t actually have a schedule. I just.. didn’t want my manager to scold me. I was about to call him using the phone in the restaurant, but the woman suddenly asked you to drive me. And well, I’d pick riding with a pretty girl than be scolded by the company any day.”

Your jaw dropped, and the man had the nerve to laugh. “Oh gosh, are you sure this isn’t a reality show, like- prank an army episode, oh god, y’all are not stalking me right?? How did you even know I was an army?? I was discreet!” And that just made him laugh harder.

“Relax. It’s definitely not a reality show. It is reality though.” A short pause, then, “Your music taste is so… varied.” And for some reason, that made you feel proud. Your playlist ranged from country music, to R&B, to anime OSTs, to Eminem, Barbra Streisand, and of course BTS.

After a couple hours of driving, your legs were feeling numb already. On your way to the coast, you had multiple rests since you were not in any hurry. But you were still a new driver and your legs are not accustomed to long drives. “Uhm, since you’re not chasing a schedule, is it okay if we stop over for a moment? My leg is killing me.” He instantly agreed, “Of course, Jane. Anything you need. Are there restaurants somewhere we can stop over? Do you want to eat? My treat!” You smiled. “Don’t be silly. You’re my guest and not everybody can do a favor for the Kim Namjoon so I’m treating you. I need something to brag about to my grandkids.”

Silence. “Oh. You’re married?” You laughed at that. “I wish. But, nope.” You took a deep disappointed breath. “What’s with the reaction? You’re still young?” He asked.

You parked the car, and faced him, “Well, you know how we have these certain expectations in our lives? Not other people’s expectations for us or society’s standards- just, a vision of how our life should be like.” You didn’t know what made you share your deepest disappointments in life with this man, but you thought, It’s not like I’m ever gonna meet him again anyway. I might even get a helpful advice or two from THE Kim Namjoon. You faced forward then, and played with your fingers as you continued. “I feel like nothing I envisioned for my life, back when I was just a youthful dreamer, ever came true. I didn’t live up to the expectations of 12-year-old me. And it bothers me everyday. As I get older, time feels so much faster and missing chances get all the more scarier and riskier.” There was a short silence as you both digested the sudden serious conversation. You didn’t want to make him feel more awkward so you showed him a bright smile and unlocked the door. “That was what the reaction for.” Then you laughed as you exited your door.

You noticed him looking out his window, at the queue for the restaurants. You walked around his side of the door and knocked on his window. “Maybe it’s better for me to just buy our food and eat in the car?” He looked worried but grateful at the same time. “I think that would be the best. Sorry.” He really looked apologetic. But you completely understand. “It’s fine, honest. Be sure to lock the doors then, and keep the windows closed. Do you know how to start the car so you can turn on the heater?” He rolled his eyes and held out his hand for your keys. “Sucks that my reputation precedes me. But yeah, I can do that much.” You started to hand him the keys and bit your lip. You were honestly worried he will wreck your car. You sighed, “Please. Don’t break my car.” Before turning and walking away, chuckling at his offended face.

Chapters: one | two | three

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32297806/chapters/80057497

#bts fic #bts fanfic #btsficrec #bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon fic #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bangtan fic #kpop fic #fanfiction #namkook fic #bts reader #ao3 fic #kim namjoon #jeon jungkook #namkook

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justwritethatdown · 4 years

Text

The Bella's house is haunted by the ghost of a girl who died there in the 80's . They have a seance. Things go very badly...

Rating: M for vivid description of violence

Words count: 3k

Trigger warning: cruent deaths, mention of blood

(I’ve been meaning to tell you)

I think your house is haunted

Beca had moved in the Bella’s house and had been living there with the other girls for just one week when she started to notice there was something weird going on in that place.

At first, she thought it might have been one of the girls – definitely Amy – who was playing tricks on her; it was just annoying silly things, really, like misplaced objects, doors that opened and closed on their own or songs that mysteriously changed to Cindy Lauper while she was listening to her Spotify playlists. All things Amy could have managed to do with little effort.

What made Beca question her believes were the events of that day she was sick and decided to stay home while all the girls went to class and then to rehearsals. She was home alone, so nobody could be pranking her, but strange things continued to happen – doubled even.

It started with her headphones; Beca could swear she’d left them on the desk, next to her computer, but when she came back from the bathroom they were gone. The brunette looked for them everywhere and finally found them in the fridge

“Mh, weird” she mumbled to herself, making her way back in her room to start working on a new mix.

Halfway through her mix, her laptop started to flash and then it showed statics

“What the fuck!? Come on you can’t die on me right now” lamented Beca hitting her laptop, she took her brand-new iPhone 5 and saw it was doing the same thing “what the hell is going on?”

She threw the phone asides and stated that she was delirious, probably due to the fever, so she decided to make herself one of Chloe’s infusions. Beca put the boiler on the stove and started looking in the cabinet for the infusion, when the home theater they had in the living room started to blast Time after Time.

“Who’s there?” she called out but didn’t get an answer. If she was honest, she’d admit she was starting to freak out a little bit.

The brunette slowly entered the living room to see that nobody was there

“That’s not funny” she called out, doing her best to hide the shake in her voice “Amy I saw you, you can come out” she tried, but again, no answer. She gulped and went to turn off the stereo, then slowly sat on the sofa to calm down, but the boiler’s whistle made her jump

“Fuck” she spat out marching to the kitchen.

Beca took a deep calming breath pouring the boiling water in her favorite mug, put the boiler away and sat down to enjoy her drink. The warm bitter liquid running down her throat was starting to relax her and free her lungs, she put down the mug and rubbed her face with both hands, when she heard the mug crashing on the floor.

Chloe opened the door and the first thing she saw was a baseball bat moving in her direction. She dodged it and saw a very startled Beca holding it

“Beca what are you doing?” she squeaked

“I- sorry I thought…” trailed off the brunette letting her weapon fall and tiredly hid her face with her palms

“Hey, what’s going on, how are you feeling?” Chloe asked removing Beca’s hands “Oh my god, Bec, you’re burning up! Let me take you to bed”

“I broke a mug” mumbled Beca while Chloe was helping her under the covers “and my phone” she added

“Your phone is working…” stated Chloe showing it to her “don’t worry for the mug, now try to get some rest” she whispered tucking a lock of brown hair away from Beca’s forehead.

Beca let out a heavy breath and briefly considered telling Chloe what she went through

“Chlo…”

“Mh?” the redhead asked turning around with a soft smile

“Thank you” mumbled the brunette before rolling on her side. “Ghosts don’t exist you’re just delirious” she told to herself before falling asleep.

“You’re such a loser”

“You will never be one of us”

“There’s no place for cowards in here”

“Ahahahah”

It was night, the cold air was making Beca shiver. The area of porch she could see from her bedroom’s window looked different than usual and she couldn’t recognize any of the voices laughing at her. She wasn’t looking down from her window, she was standing outside the window. She was barefoot.

“Come on, we don’t have all night!”

Beca swallowed hard, her head was spinning, she slipped.

Beca woke up in her bed, damp with sweat, her – now working – phone pointed 4AM, she groaned and went back to sleep.

Weeks passed and then months, objects kept disappearing and appearing in weird places and Beca made sure to never be alone in the house again, but she never talked to anyone about what happened, she was too embarrassed about it – ghosts don’t exist.

One evening, after helping Jessica find her bracelet that ended up being in a plant near the bathroom, she decided to talk to Chloe about it.

“Hey Chlo, can we talk for a moment?” she mumbled, still uncertain about saying it out loud

“Sure, what’s up?” asked the redhead putting aside her Russian lit book

“I uhm… this might sound weir but…” she trailed off

“You know you can tell me everything, right?” assured her Chloe leaning in to grab her hand

“I – not that I believe in this kind of things, but uhm… I think there’s a ghost in the house”

Chloe’s face fell and she cleared her throat sitting back straight “Yeah, that’s Molly” she said casually, going back to her reading.

“WHAT?” gasped the brunette

“Molly” repeated Chloe “she died here in the 80’s” she explained

“You don’t actually believe she- she’s living with us, right?” stuttered Beca

“Of course, she is-”

“What are we talking about?” interrupted her Stacie

“Apparently we have a ghost” explained Cynthia-Rose who happened to hear the conversation

“Cool, a ghost story!” gasped Stacie excited “wait, I’ll call the others”

They moved in the living room after Stacie gathered all the girls and Chloe started telling the story

“In the 80’s this house was the sorority house of the θγτ. Those girls were known to be the cruelest sorority Barden had ever seen. They always made their new members prove their worth through impossible dares, like eating worms or doing dangerous things. Most times the new girls run away crying and were thrown out of the sorority, but there was this girl – Molly – who wanted to be part of the sorority more than anything. She was willing to die for it-”

“How did she die?” interrupted Beca, her throat felt tight and her heart was beating incredibly fast

“It was initiation night. They gave her a dare, a test of bravery…”

The crunching of chips coming from Amy destroyed the mood Chloe was skillfully setting with her story

“Amy, would you mind!?” lamented Cynthia-Rose

“What?” asked Amy stopping with her mouth full of chips

“We’re kinda in the middle of something here…” added Ashley

“Go on” spurred her on Stacie

Chloe cleated her throat “they told her that to be a member of the θγτ she had to walk on the ledge from side to side of the house only wearing her nightgown. They knew she was scared of heights, they probably thought she would have given up, but she tried anyway…”

“fuck…” whispered Beca, she had chills thinking about her dream

“She fell” added Chloe in a sad voice

“Do you want to contact her?” offered Lilly in her usual creepy tone

“Yes! Let’s summon a ghost” squealed Stacie

“Dude, no!” gasped Beca horrified

“What? You scared Mitchell?” challenged her the tall brunette

“I’m not scared” retorted Beca

“Come on, it’s Halloween week, it’ll be fun” tried Jessica and the girls agreed. Beca didn’t like it, she didn’t like it at all.

Lilly seemed to be rather expert on the field. She made them move the furniture and drawn a pentagram on the floor in the middle of the living room, she turned off the lights and placed five candles, one on each point of the circled star. The girls were sitting in circle around the symbol while Lilly placed herself in the center and started saying something Beca assumed to be in Latin.

Suddenly a gust of wind turned off all the candles and the room feel silent

“You girls shouldn’t be playing around with seances” Lilly said in a demoniac voice and someone, probably Jessica or Ashley – Beca wasn’t sure – screamed. Some of the girls turned on the flashlight on their phones and they could see Lilly standing up, with her hair down on her face.

“Shit, she looks just like Samara” said Amy

“You foolish girls, must pay respect to the rituals” Roared Lilly

“Fuck, is she possessed?” gasped Cynthia-Rose

“Lilly that’s the best Halloween prank I’ve ever seen” laughed Stacie “You look disgusting”

At that Lilly howled in rage turning to Stacie and showed her face, her eyes were completely white, and her body was still facing forward while her face was turned to look at the brunette. The girls screamed and moved away but Beca noticed Chloe was still on the pentagram

“Chloe what are you doing?” she shouted to her

“Molly” tried the redhead swallowing hard

The monster turned to face her and Beca grabbed Chloe’s hand to drag her away. Molly grunted and started to walk towards Stacie, in the meantime someone had turned on the lights and Beca could see that Lilly wasn’t wearing her clothes anymore, she recognized the white gown she was wearing in her dream.

Molly reached Stacie and cornered her

“Please, please not my face! Or the boobs, please-” begged the girl, but the spirit reached out to her throat and ripped her trachea out making blood splash everywhere. All the girls screamed in horror crying out Stacie’s name and the lights went out again.

The Bellas ran away in different places of the house and Beca had no idea where the others went, except for Chloe who had never let go of her hand. She had dragged her in a room and locked the door behind them, everything was dark and Beca could barely make out the silhouette of Chloe’s face.

“I can’t believe Stacie is dead” sniffed Chloe

“Yeah, that’s crazy” murmured Beca letting the redhead hug her

“I’m glad you’re her with me” she breathed out

“Me too, I can’t imagine being alone right now” confessed the brunette and Chloe pulled away from the hug

“No, I mean… I’m glad that it’s you” clarified the redhead looking into her eyes

Beca swallowed hard noticing how close they were and in the dim light she could see Chloe’s eyes looking down at her lips for a moment. It’s funny how you throw all cares to the wind when you think you’re about to die. Beca leaned in and kissed her. Chloe responded instantly pressing her against the door and slipping her tongue into Beca’s mouth. Her hands were desperatcely gripping at Beca and for a moment the brunette thought that maybe this was worth dying for.

Their kiss was interrupted by Cynthia-Rose pointing a flashlight at them

“Finally!” she cheered making them jump “we need to go to the basement, unless you have something better to do…” she added in a judgy tone

“Why to the basement?” asked Beca clearing her throat “of all places…” she added with a shiver

“To fix the lighting maybe?” retorted Cynthia-Rose

“Okay but why can’t you go?” asked Beca hissing when Chloe hit her with her elbow

“Because the black and the queer characters always die first in horror movies, and if you didn’t notice, I am black and a lesbian! So, I’m definitely not going there alone” explained the girl

“Of course we’re coming with you” agreed Chloe.

“Lock the door” intimated Beca once they entered the basement. They reached the electric cabinet and Beca pointed the light of the phone to it “you know how to do that?” she asked

“Yep”

While Cynthia-Rose was working on the cables Beca let herself get lost in the comfort of Chloe’s body pressed up against her back and the girl’s fingers intertwined with her owns. It caused a weird warm sensation, like if it didn’t matter that there was a murderous demon around the house and that they were all going to be slaughtered by it.

When the lights started working again the girls turned around to find Molly covered in Stacie’s blood standing in the middle of the room. Beca whimpered and pressed herself more into Chloe who had pretty much the same reaction, while Cynthia-Rose threw her flashlight to the monster hitting her in the face and gaining them some important seconds

“Go go go go go!” she shouted, and they started to climb the stairs.

As soon as Beca and Chloe were out of the basement door, it slammed shut behind them trapping the other girl inside. They could hear her scream and hit the door trying to open it, so they started doing the same until Beca couldn’t hear her anymore

“Chlo…” she tried, but the red head wouldn’t stop “Chlo-”

“We need to get her out of there Beca!” she cried

“Chlo, it’s too late… she’s gone” she sobbed “we have to go” she added grabbing Chloe’s hand again, but this time it wasn’t enough to calm her.

They started to run towards the door, when the couch slid between them and their target, they turned around to see Molly slowly approaching them.

“You don’t belong here” thundered Molly tilting her head “you didn’t complete the ritual”

“Yes, yes she does” gasped Chloe placing herself in front of Beca “Bree didn’t want her at first, but then she was okay with it”

“Chlo what are you doing?” whispered Beca, but the monster suddenly turned around and walked away “what the fuck?” breathed out Beca in confusion.

They saw Cynthia-Rose crawl out from the basement and ran to help her

“How are you what did she do to you?” asked Chloe helping the girl up to her feet

“Slowly, slowly, I’m injured” she gasped showing them a bleeding wound on her hip “she pushed me downstairs, I must have caught a nail or something”

“Come on, let’s take you to the bathroom, Chloe has a first aid kit” said Beca pushing the girl’s arm around her neck to help her stand.

On their way to the bathroom, they found Jessica with a tear-stained face standing next to the staircase that led to the second floor, Chloe moved to hug her and saw Ashley’s lying on the floor with her neck broken and some limbs twisted.

“Fuck” sadly whispered Cynthia-Rose rubbing her face with her palm

“Lilly was following us upstairs, Amy got away” sobbed Jessica “I couldn’t leave her”

“It’s okay, come here, it’s okay" tried to comfort her Chloe.

The group made it to Chloe’s bathroom and the redhead was trying to medicate Cynthia-Rose as best as she could

“What else did you see in horror movies?” asked Beca

“About ghosts? They’re usually here because they have unfinished business- ouch”

“Sorry" whispered Chloe

“ ‘s alright. But those were movies I don’t know- OUCH!”

“I’m done" promised Chloe getting up

“I don’t know if it applies to real ghosts” added Cynthia-Rose

“It’s all we have" huffed Beca “I need to try, and we still need to find Amy"

“I’m coming with you" said Chloe

“No, it’s too dangerous I don’t want you to get hurt”

“You’re not going alone” argued Chloe and Beca gave up

“Alright. Jessica, you stay here with CR”

Beca and Chloe started to wander around the house, looking for Molly

“Why did you think the ghost was after me?” whispered Beca

“Her name is Molly” corrected her Chloe “and I don’t know…” she trailed off

“You mentioned Aubrey, did she tell the ghost- Molly, to haunt me or something?” suggested Beca

“What? No" gasped the redhead “I just assumed because she’s been here the whole time I was in this house, but since when you moved in, she seemed to be… more nervous” she explained

“I had a dream about her" confessed Beca “I mean I was her. In the dream. The night she died… I think she just wants to be accepted"

They heard a loud noise and suddenly stopped swallowing hard

“we should check that” said Chloe in a tiny voice

“I hope it’s Amy" huffed Beca nodding

As it turned out it was Amy, but she’d just been thrown against the wall by Molly.

“Amy” shouted Beca without thinking, letting the ghost know they were there

“Beca, finally! Save me, I’m too important to die" screamed Amy trying to free herself, but the monster shoved a hand in her chest ripping her guts out.

“No!” cried Beca “stop it, what do you want from us?” she shouted at the ghost

Molly let Amy’s body fall to the ground and started to walk towards them again.

“You did not respect the ritual" she kept saying, the lights were flashing like crazy and there was wind coming out of nowere

Beca took a step forward “what ritual? What are you talking about?”

Molly pushed her asides and took Chloe by the throat. The redhead gasped trying to free herself from the bloody hand chocking her, but it was pointless

“You must complete the ritual!”

“I’ll do it! I’ll do your ritual” volunteered Beca

Molly instantly let go of Chloe and turned to the brunette

“Bec no" begged Chloe trying to catch her breath

“You are a Bella now!” she declared, confusing both Chloe and the ghost

“I, as co-captain of the Bellas, declare that you have passed the test and are a Bella. You’re one of us" she gulped, her heart was beating so fast it was hard to breathe, like if she’d run a marathon. Chloe had reached her and was standing beside her

“And I, as the other co-captain, approve that" confirmed the redhead.

“Thank you" whispered Molly.

Suddenly the lights stopped flashing and everything seemed to be back to normal. Lilly’s body fell to the ground with a thud and Chloe immediately moved to go check on her but Beca stopped her

“What if she’s faking it?” questioned the brunette

“Why would she fake it?” pointed out Chloe and went to kneel down besides Lilly.

“Is she…” asked Beca

“She’s breathing” assured Chloe relieved

“We should call the police” suggested Jessica once her and Cynthia-Rose joined them.

The police was still taking their depositions and Lilly was taken away with an ambulance, it was clear that the girls couldn’t have been killed by a person, but the policeman refused to believe their ghost story and kept asking them if they’d taken any drugs or were drunk. He kept bringing up an animal attack, almost like if he was trying to convince them.

Chloe went to sit on the porch next to Beca, both wrapped in those panic blankets they’d only saw in movies before that night.

“You saved my life" she stated humping her with the shoulder

“Well, you tried that first” answered Beca looking down at her feet “I noticed you stepping in front of me"

“Yes, but it turned out she was never after you… she just wanted the head of the sorority to accept her"

“If I only figured that out earlier Amy would still be alive, maybe Ashley too" sniffed Beca

“Hey, look at me” told her Chloe reaching out to gently tilt Beca’s face towards her “it’s not your fault, okay? If anything you saved the rest of us. If it wasn’t for you I…” she trailed off shivering at the memory of that cold hand around her throat

“I’m glad you’re okay" whispered Beca with teary eyes before leaning in to kiss her.

#Pitch Perfect #horror story #ghost story #bechloe #halloween #beca mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe horror #bechloe oneshot #pitch perfect one shot

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robinisaghost · 3 years

Note

animatic ideas :0 (ramble away, i would love to hear them!!)

mk thank you for enabling me, i will now be yelling

anyway

this is gonna be so obnoxiously long i am so sorry

can you add read more's on asks? eeeekkkk because this got so damn long lmao

mild dsmp spoilers obviously

this is the playlist, by the way

-im sorry boris (wilbur soot)

i think it would work really well with mmm slightly post lmanburg niki. andby slightly i mean. well when she leaves (that is the whole thing of the song gdfjkhgsdf) also side note at like 1 minute 11 on that song theres a discord notification really subtly in the background and it makes me paranoid every time i hear it. anyway god its such a nice song. even for just like. the end of lmanburg. not necesarily paired with a character, just the sense of leaving a place that was so highly populated before it got blown up twice and was like. the main part of the smp. yeah. anyway also the lines "they'll knock down the pubs before helping you...they'll let you jump under trains before helping you" yeah those four lines have big niki vibes but also i think the song could work well with exile tommy or actually even with the finale when tubbo is about to sacrifice himself? mmmmm yeah

-this is home (cavetown)

mmmm got exile tommy vibes innit. a lot of these have exile tommy vibes tbf i just like sad songs and also exile tommy. plus the song has a lot of like. the message is sort of like. changing yourself to appeal to others? like with "ill cut my hair to make you stare" but also the repeated thing of "ill figure out a way to get us out of here" which is clearly the main character of the song trying to help everyone when they are clearly not in a good way themself. yeah thats got big tommy vibes in general tbh but more like. pre finale tommy. i think he got a bit more independant after that.

-soldier poet king (the oh hellos)

ok this is self explanatory and has been done to death already but d a m n its kinda funky. anyway i had thoughts and actually started this but then lost motivation and deleted it all lmaooo. the only proof of its existance is a shitty storyboard in my draw which will hopefully never see the light of day again (unless anyone wants to see it :eyes:) anyway i had the thought of like. sbi? so soldier techno poet wilbur and king tommy. but tbf tommy and techno are kinda interchangeable with that, cos while techno is obviously the better fighter, tommy is used a lot, especially in lmanberg era and also i think he probably will be now that wilburs back

-pyjama pants (cavetown)

ok so i honestly dont remember why this is on the playlist but tbf this could go well with a bunch of characters. thinking like. phil and wilbur? or wil and tommy, or tubbo and ranboo are two that like. i know for a fact that i did not put the song on the playlist specifically for them but god thinking about it now it works so well with them

-boys will be bugs (cavetown)

OH BOY THERES A LOT OF CAVETOWN ON HERE HUH (i feel like that probably says something about me but shhhhhh we dont need to talk about that) ANYWAY

I think this could probably work really well with tommy? because of the whole like. trying really hard to come across as not caring about others, but really being like. very vunerable. but at the same time it could go really well with wilbur for the same reasons. also the song fucks ok cant deny it. to be fair i think it works better with tommy, because he's younger and also he really likes bugs (unless i am mistaken) which is just a cool coincidence but still)

-brother (kodaline)

FUCKKKKKKKKKKK THIS WORKS SO WELL WITH SO MANY CHARACTERS AND IS ALSO ***SO ANGSTY*** WHAT

anyway

i added it because of tommy and tubbo because holy shit, but also it could work very very well with wilbur and tommy, techno and wilbur, probably techno and tommy, and oh my god i just thought of this but this would work so well with phil and techno!!!! but yeah i originally thought tommy and tubbo because i thought it was a funny coincidence with exile tommy waking up underwater, and theres a line that says "if you were drowned at sea, id give you my lungs so you could breathe" and like. just thinking about the compasses especially. me gusta.

-feel better (penelope scott)

fundy. that is all.

no ok this works well with fundy but also probably karl sapnap and quackity, and also very much wilbur, like it works well with both. just mainly fundy idk why its got big fundy vibes tho. very poggers.

-as the world caves in (matt maltese)

ok but like this goes very very well with the explosions of lamberg. either of them. i think probably the first one is better, but i think it goes well with both. probably the first one, because it was way more emotional i think? cos it was the first time that their homes had been destroyed and everything, but also because it was so personal, because wilbur was the one who did it. i think that also it would work well if it was set during the explosion but also focussed on different facets? so like. one bit about wilburs perspective, one bit about tommys, one about phils, one about fundys maybe? idk just a bunch of lmaburg citizens' povs for this. its good. as the world caves in is a song that can be so gender tbh.

-do you hear the people sing? (les mis)

obvious obvious obvious...... but like..... also tbh it goes well with a bunch of things. like, mmmmm wilbur in pogtopia. the butcher army. lmaburg independance war (obviously ghdskj) but yeah. also this song just goes so hard like b r u h

-wolf in sheeps clothing (set it off, william beckett)

SO MANY OF THESE ARE LIKE. PRETTY OBVIOUS IF YOUVE HEARD THE SONG

but yeah. it would go so well with like. well any betrayal basically. so eret, from tommys pov maybe, or about wilbur from nikis pov, or wilbur from anyone pov tbf, or quackity from charlie/purpled/foolish/sams pov, or sam from tommys pov, really it works well with so many people which says a lot about the characters tbh but shhhhhhhhhhhh

-need you here (idkhow)

OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD

mk mk mk mk FUNDY AND WILBUR THO

like b r u h that works so well with them

also i started this one as well but didnt like it, theres a story board in my draw as well for it because like. oh my god its such a good idea i just am shit at animating and don't have a decent enough program :')

also also

the line "daddy has to go, and that makes me sad, but daddy will always come back, he promised" fuckkkkkk that works so well with like. say for example, idk, when they're celebrating schlatts death and wilbur leaves to press the button? the sheer fucking angst of that is enough to kill any one person istg that is in fact the entire reason why i started the animatic in the first place. just that line. also all the lines sung by the child voice. fuckin angsty as hell. also ust generally a banging song, as is every idkhow song

-green (cavetown)

another cavetown song huh. ok sure.

mk so wilbur and sally and fundy. like. for a start, the imagry of a fish at the start? boom sally.

anyway the lines "you looked so good in green, i hope you're well, and you look so good with him, (schlatt ig?) and I'm proud of you still (wilburrrr and fundyyyy) i miss your perfect teeth, i was too blunt, i hope you feel happy, that's all I want"

FUCKKKK

the whole song is about missing someone you used to love and only hoping the best for them!!!! and wishing that they are happy and safe!!!!!!!!!!! and hoping they still think about you!!!!! but even if they dont its fine because all you want is for them to be happy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

-achilles come down (gang of youths)

OK I THOUGHT IT COULDNT GET ANGSTIER

so like. tw suicide but thats what the entire song is about and bing bang boom i just think it works so so so so so so so well with not only exile tommy (who obviously did try to kill himself) but also wilbur in a slightly more metaphorical way? so like. his self destructive habits leading him to a point where he had no choice other than to kill himself and to take his country down with him. and its all about other characters trying to help them and persuade them not to but also near the end there is a second voice trying to persuade them to go along with it, which im thinking like. if its wilbur, either dream or maybe just himself. his own brain persuading him to continue down the path that would inevitably lead to his and his countries destruction. also it works well with schlatt for the same reasons, except he doesnt want to die. maybe (since the song is so goddamn long) like. one verse for tommy one for wilbur and one for schlatt? dead gang poggg but also like. the verses cover fairly different things which work with one character but not so much the others, for example the first verse would be tommy because its mainly about persuading the person to not kill themself (which tommy did himself but shhh) the second for schlatt because its literally about drinking and smoking away your problems, and the third for wilbur since its more of a fight between the "good" and the "bad" sides, which is obviously what wilbur was experiencing. also obviously i have a soft spot for this song because its string instruments and french, basically my favourite combination ever (also i like his voice idfk lmao)

ANYWAY THATS ALL THE SONGS ON THERE SO FAR

i literally thought of another song while i was in the shower today but i dont remember which it was but a n y w a y the playlist will most definitely be getting longer, especially since there are so many more songs that are good for this but i just havent added them yet lmao. anyway ive been writing this for like an hour gsdfjhgdhfsg but still oh my god this was fun to write

#long post #tw suicide #only a mention at the end but still gotta be safe :)#dsmp #dreamsmp #dsmp animatics #robin talks #ask #thank you so much for the ask tho cos like. i dont wanna be annoying or anything? but also like. i really wanted to talk about this gsdfkjg #god i hope the read more worked or this is gonna be annoying to everyone ever #its fine probably maybe not really

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voidsaber · 4 years

Note

swanto - downfall (nightclub)??? ;👀👀👀

ALRIGHT SO. (i’m grinning just thinking about this stupid au). This all started like nearly 2 years ago when my coworker invited me to go to a club with them. I’d never been to a club before (not my scene and with experience still isn’t). So I go home at a reasonable morning hour but I can’t get to sleep cause on the way back my brain is full of Eli/Cygni brainrot with the silliest idea that basically. what if Eli was undercover in a nightclub (because fanfic plot reasons). And Cygni was there. and then they flirt and hook up. and that was meant to be it. that was the plot. i just wanted random cute one-shot swantos.

and then my brain made angst happen by giving thrawn a bigger role and slapping in some one-sided thranto. so then the fic kept going and we have thrawn meeting eli in the hotel the next morning and being Concerned but also jealous and hurt. and so thrawn confesses he’s got feelings for Eli but eli basically has none of it cause he’s kinda fed up with the manipulation schtick. in this au Pryce and Thrawn never meet and thus never help one another and so eli is stuck as an ensign and we get a lot of thranto angst and possibly some very vindictive space cowboy. it was initally titled “nightclub au” for ages before I gave it the temp. name of “downfall”. I have a playlist for this au also. i just checked and there are 18k words i don’t remember writing all of :’) it’s really fun writing eli/cygni interactions with cygni being a lil snarky and eli getting riled up but also getting snarky right back at him. and also being soft n cute. and also thrawn just pining really hard. and also eli’s frustration at a stagnated career path.

uhhh select snippets under the cut?

- - -

Cygni shrugged. "Spice, Dust, people... not my modus operandi."

"And I'm to believe you?"

"I told you - I'm in no position to lie. Besides, why would I? Is it that difficult to believe I'm not keen on those who profit off of the stuff? I've seen what it does to people. And I'm just me tonight."

"Just 'you'?" A flat statement more than a question. He didn't understand Cygni's words.

"Yes." The damn smirk was equal parts infuriating and attractive and infuriatingly attractive. Clearly there was a punchline he wasn't getting. Whatever. Eli pushed it aside, not caring for games. He cleared his throat.

"So," Eli ventured. "Whatever you're doing, it's not some kind of play. Or trap."

"Of course not. How would I even know you were to be here tonight?" Cygni smiled wryly. "You think if I knew I would show up, considering our previous encounter?"

"No. I don't think you'd be that bold. Or that stupid."

Cygni snorted from across the table. "Well, I'm glad you think so, at least. I'd say we're getting along just fine, wouldn't you?"

(at the hotel)

He watched as Cygni shuffled backwards to sit cross-legged on the wide bed. He followed suit and made himself comfortable facing him. The way he leant back and propped himself on his hands was very appealing. Eli let his gaze wander, down along the scrunched creases of his shirt at the shoulder, his arms, a little more muscular than he'd first thought, pale scars catching on his dark skin that gave Eli a twinge of cold uneasy recognition, of remembrance, and to those solid hands that had felt so good on his scalp. He dropped lower down to the drape of his shirt - really if he'd wanted to blend in at the venue he could have worn something a little more... exciting - past the strained fabric of his trousers, nicely fitting, quite tight, actually, and a strange blue-green colour that Eli wasn't sure blended well whatsoever with the pale shirt or dark skin but really he was just focussed on the want for their absence; and then with rising heat down elsewhere, to Cygni's feet. Eli suddenly felt very strange for wearing his shoes whilst on the bed. He gulped, getting back to the matter at hand - that being the growing desire inside of him for the man before him. He raked his eyes back up to Cygni's wry grin, though not entirely free of tension.

He must've had a strange expression on his face because Cygni spoke up in a jovial tone. "Not going to try and weasel some information out of me are you, Vanto?"

Eli huffed quietly, tension lifting. "As if you'd fall for that. And it's Eli," he said, and leant forward to kiss him again. "You can call me Eli."

(thrawn confronting eli the morning after. which is very rude of him)

"You are well aware it is against protocol--"

"I know, sir," Eli muttered, pained.

"--and more so it was unwise. There is conduct to follow, Ensign."

Eli flinched. He knew better than to try answering that.

"However, I do not expect any individual to solely rid themselves of any desires they have. As you said, the path of duty can oft impede or interrupt chances at proper rest or indeed.. indulgence. What I wish to understand is that it seems there are those on the Thunder Wasp who would respond positively from such an advance from yourself, and despite regulations I see no reason why you could not engage in sexual activity with those you wish to, whoever they may be,//such colleagues albeit within appropriate timeframes, provided it does not impact your work. Yet you have chosen to ignore this in favour of a different party. I do, of course, notice these things."

Gods what the fucking weirdest thing Thrawn was saying.

"Oh yeah," Eli replied sarcastically, unable to help it now. "I'm sure the Empire’s finest are dying to get a shot at screwing a Wild Space hick who barely made the cut at the Royal Academy and is getting such special treatment – all for being bilingual. Care to name a few?”

"I myself, am one such example."

"What."

(after thrawn and eli’s fallout)

Oh right - Thrawn was talking to him. Of course he was. And didn't seem to care that Eli wasn't listening. It's not like he wouldn't notice. He just expected Eli to pay attention to him. Like usual, he expected Eli to give him every waking moment. No time to think for himself, about himself, lest it lead to foolishness.

"Sir?" Eli said bitterly. All of this clamouring in his head was driving him mad. He felt sick. He couldn't remember half of what he'd been driving round and round in his skull, and from the rest of it he couldn't tell if it was his own spiteful hyperbole or if it was truthful. He didn't know which was worse.

A small flicker of something crossed Thrawn's impeccable features. Eli didn't know and didn't care what. He supposed he should. He paid attention. "I was suggesting, Ensign, that you be taken as ill. I have noticed your demeanour becoming--" he paused. muttered something, or maybe just mouthed it. Eli was frowning at him, hardly trying to stop himself, and could see the word was Sy Bisti. Still on translation duty after all these years. Only useful because it wasn't worth the hour programming a droid. Eli's existence could be quantified in a measly number of credits in that regard. And yet he hadn't even bothered to say the word, to ask Eli for that translation. Was he trying to be nice, or polite? What a first. Or maybe he wasn't even worth that anymore.

tldr: what if... we hooked up in a nightclub while i was undercover on a mission... and the encounter really gets to some hidden emotional part of me for reasons unknown... and then it turned out my commanding officer has been madly in love with me the whole time but my head’s too busy with whatever spell you put on me when we had sex that one time to even look his way... haha jk.... unless..?

#confuzing #swanto #thranto #listen.... nightclub au is good.... i just need to write it #thank u for asking about it...#i need to express my feelings for this ship somehow #mine #voidfic

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nightowlfandom · 5 years

Text

Min Yoongi- More Than What We Are

REQUEST FROM PROMPT LIST- RIGHT HERE! (I also write for anime too wink wonk)

Okay so I don’t have a screenshot since this person sent me this request via the little chat message feature. If you have a request that hasn’t been posted, it’s probably in my drafts.

“Can you please do a scenario where yoongi is an idol who is having a fwb relationship with the reader but the reader wants more than fwb but Yoongi is confused with his feelings. You can end it as you like add a little bit of angst and smut. ;) 1, 15, 23, 89 Thank you. :) “

1- How miserable must i be before you’re satisfied.

15- We can’t all be a perfect pretty boy popstar

23- It was foolish of me to think you could ever want a relationship with me, forget it

89- Me? A jerk?...I didn’t know you felt that way...I’m-

Leggo!

Okay so if you didn’t know FWB means “Friends With Benefits”

Also I’m going to be posting a music playlist of songs I like to jam to while i write soon...as soon as I don’t get lazy and...ya ALSO YOU GUYS BETTER LOVE THIS ONE BECAUSE IT GAVE ME HELL TO SAVE AND POST.

...

You and Yoongi both fell back onto the bed. You took in a huge breath before exhaling with a little laugh. Yoongi let out an audible groan, followed by a few curses. You sat up in bed, looking down at him, who was still trying to breathe in a little.

“You okay there?” you asked, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Shit.” he smirked, biting his lip. “Yeah I’m good. I’m just-” Yoongi didn’t finish speaking. “Damn.”

As much as you wanted to be happy in this instance...you couldn’t. Yoongi would soon get up from your bed, look for his clothes, then leave. It was a cycle. A cycle that you wanted to break, however you had some trobules doing that.

“It looks like it’s about to rain.” you commented, staring outside your window. Before you could continue, you heard a crash of thunder. “Correction...it’s raining.”

“Yeah, I’d better go.” he slipped his pants on.

“You know you could chill for a bit, it isn’t gonna kill you.” you mumbled. You made sure he couldn’t see you roll your eyes.

“...You know why I can’t do that.” he said, totally oblivious to your tone.

“I’m aware.” you mumbled.

“See you later Y/N.” he winked as he exited your room, still in the midst of putting his shirt on.

“...Yeah...” you sighed. “See you later.” you mumbled, staring outside the window. The rain was your only companion now. You wondered if other girls had to go through this shit show.

Yoongi wasn’t your boyfriend, you wouldn’t even go as far as to say you two were really good friends. You were basically who he came to when he had a rough day, a terrible break-up, or was feeling lonely. You didn’t want to say “friends with benefits” absolutely not.The word ‘benefit’ would imply that you were also getting something from this sad excuse of a relationship, but in real life? All you got to do was make Yoongi feel better when he was upset then end up being a notch in his bedpost. At least that’s how it felt

It wouldn’t be that bad, if he didn’t treat you like he didn’t know these emotions were going through your head.

...

“Whatcha doin?” you peeked over Yoongi’s shoulder as he hunched over his writing pad.

“I’m having trouble.” he sighed. “Trying to write.” he shook his head, throwing his pen down. “So what do you feel like doing?”

“I dunno.” you shrugged. “What about you? We could go out somewhere?”

“Nah, that wouldn’t work” he shook his head.

“Why not?” you raised an eyebrow. “You asked me a question and I answered.”

“Y/N you know why...” Yoongi looked at you with a weird look.

“Wow, so now we can’t get food without it being a problem?” you rolled your eyes standing up straight.

“We said no dates Y/N...” Yoongi sighed, standing up as well. “Dates would insinuate that we’re together.”

“First of all friends can go out and get food together. Or is that concept too foreign to you?” you huffed.

“For us it’s different. Especially since you know how I am about catching feelings for people.” Yoongi waved you off. “Especially you.” he mumbled, however you were too in your own head to hear that part.

“Oh so having feelings for me is suddenly a negative thing?” you laughed, rolling your eyes.

“I don’t know why you’re so upset right now.” Yoongi argued, making you roll your eyes.

“If you don’t understand then we have nothing to talk about.” you turned away. “It’s above me.”

“Y/N-” Yoongi sighed. “You know what I mean. You know what would happen if we start getting to close.”

“You act like it’s a bad thing.” you scoffed. “Maybe for you it’s a negative. We’ve already got past the awkward fucking stage to just casual fucking-”

“Y/N we talked about this-”

“No, you talked and I listened to you drone on about how we can have the sex, without the relationship to avoid any confusion well you know that....I may have made a mistake but you know what-”

“Then why haven’t you cut things off with me if you had such an issue?” he glared, making you cross your arms.

“I loved you too much to cut you off...it was foolish of me to think you could ever want a relationship with me.”

“How do you know what I want?” he asked accusingly.

“If all you see me as if your fuck buddy then you obviously don’t see me as anything more!” you replied, crossing your arms. “You’ve made it very clear that your only interest in me is to-”

“You don’t know what I see you as, Y/N” Yoongi calmed down.

“Wel you wanna know what I see you ask? A selfish jerk who has no idea when he’s playing with people’s feelings.”

“Me?...You think I’m a jerk? I...I didn’t know you felt that way.”

“Well guess what, that’s not all you don’t know. Yoongi you have two options, make up your mind or find a new toy. If being in a relationship is such an issue for you then maybe this friendship isn’t going to work out if all you gain from it is seeing me naked.” you whipped around, grabbing your purse off the table before stomping out the door.

.... (Two weeks later)

“What the fuck was that bullshit?!” Yoongi followed you into your apartment. He hadn’t shut up since you drove the both of you home. Yoongi had gotten kicked out of the bar. Why? Well, you were supposed to be on a date with a kind and sweet guy from your friends job who she thought you’d like, but apparently Yoongi had saw you two and went mad. It went a little something like-

(Flashback)

“So anyways, there I am literally running and my sisters are laughing their asses off still wearing those creepy ghost costumes.” your date tried to contain himself from laughing. You were struggling to keep it all in and he told his story. You were were at a bar-club, one of your favorite chill spots.

“You’re kidding!!” you hugged your sides to try to keep from laughing.

“I swe-...Hey...are you alright? You seem like you’re thinking about a lot.” he commented, setting his drink down.

“No... it’s just.” you sighed. “I just got out of this major situation, or should I say ‘shit-uation’.” you sighed, shaking your head.”Maybe I’m still in it since I had left his house without another word.”

“Is it a guy?” he asked thoughtfully, making you nod your head. “Ah, still not over him?”

“No, it’s not that.” you shook your head. “He’s just very confusing and right...behind you?” you trailed off. Yoongi locked eyes with you and he didn’t look pleased as he stomped towards you and your date.

“Y/N, who the fuck is this?”

“My date, is there an issue?!” you asked with just as much, if not more venom.

You didn’t have time to register Yoongi starting an argument with your date followed by him dragging you out of the bar.

(end of flashback)

“I should be asking you the same thing!” you fired. “You literally ruined my date!”

“So you think you can just go and get all casual with some fucker so quickly?!?” he crossed his arms. “You had me worried sick! You didn’t call me for two weeks Y/N!!!”

“OH” you began. “SO YOU DON’T WANT A RELATIONSHIP WITH ME?- SO WHEN I FINALLY DECIDE TO GET OVER YOU AND GO ON A DATE WITH SOMEONE ELSE, NOW THERE’S AN ISSUE?!” you spat, making him scoff.

“I never said I didn’t want to be with you! I said I had some things to work out! Why would you want to go on a date with that asshole anyways!?!.”

“Oh so any guy that shows a genuine interest in me is now an asshole. That’s real rich Yoongi!”you snapped. “And you never once said you had things to work out!”

“He’s obviously some douchebag, have you seen the way he dresses!”

“Well, we can’t all be some perfect pretty boy popstar! So let me get this straight. You don’t want to be with me, but you also don’t want to be with anyone else. JUST HOW MISERABLE MUST I BE BEFORE YOU’RE SATISFIED!?” you snapped. “Why I ever let myself fall for you, I will never know.” you said. No, you weren’t going to cry. You weren’t going to let him see you sad or mopey.

You were fed up. You didn’t care if this ended with Yoongi walking out that door and never speaking to you again anymore. “I gave up so much to make you happy, to make sure you were always laughing even if it meant crying myself to sleep after you left...I was your stupid shoulder to cry on your stupid cheerleader your special friend.” you said, crossing your arms. “....and I’m not gonna do it anymore.” you spat.

“Y/N-”

“So.” you cut him off. “Do you...or do you not...want to be in a relationship with me?”

“Y/N-”

“You...have ten second to answer my question before I kick you out...I can’t keep doing this with you!” you began, scratching behind your ear.. “I wo-”

“Yes! Yes, I do want to be with you!” he cut you off. “I can’t stand being away from you, seeing you with that guy just drove me insane tha-.”

“I don’t believe you, I don’t believe that you’re serious.” you replied.

“Then tell me how to make you believe me!” his voice wavered. You had never heard that from him before, but it didn’t mean you automatically believed him.

“Prove it to me.” you crossed your arms. “Prove to me that you know me outside of-....are you even listening to me?”

Yoongi looked deep in thought, like he was trying to find a way to reply.

“Your favorite colors are (insert top 3 favorite colors). Your favorite korean food is black bean noodles. One time Namjoon tried to prank you by switching your sweet and sour pork with spicy pork.” he began.

“What?” you were taken aback at his reply. How did he know this?

“You scratch your ear when you’re about to lie. You ran away from a small dog one time because Hoseok told you that they hated the smell of that perfume you always wear when in reality it just wanted some of of the sauce you had spilled on your pants.” he began, which caught you way off guard.

“Yoongi...stop.” you began choking on your words, mainly from confusion.

“You stay up late writing for your blog and playing video games.”

“How did you know I have a blog?” you slowly asked. “I haven’t anyone about that.”

“Who do you think sends you asks everyday.“ he hid a smirk rising on his face. You were taken aback.

“S-so...you’re ‘UndercoverCoolGuy’ “ you said, filled with partial horror. “That’s embarrassing...”

“Mhm” he nodded. “You’ve always loved coffee cold brewed. Your favorite sweets are cookies. You scrunch your nose up and flare your nostrils when you’re thinking hard about something. You talk in your sleep sometimes.”

“How do you know?” you suddenly asked.

“Sometimes, I’ll sneak back in and watch you, just to make sure your sleeping well.” he confessed, his cheeks turning pink. “You enjoy dancers more than singers and rappers. You have to sleep with the fan on, you organize your clothes when you go shopping.” he continued.

“The reason I didn’t want to catch feelings for you wasn’t because...I don’t deserve you.I don’t deserve to be loved by you, to be treated well by you.” he sighed. “Like you said I’m just some pretty boy pop-star. Girls only like me because of my talents, my looks even but they don’t care about me.” he continued. “You have men dying to be with you, always ogling at you and asking you out, any one of them would be better than me. Anyone of them would be better for you than me. Even when I tried to push you away you still fell back in-”

“Shut up...” you finally said...”Just stop talking.” You didn’t need another word. You didn’t need to hear anything else. You threw your arms around Yoongi’s torso, pulling him into a hug. “Yoongi, you’re crying.” you chuckled a little.

“I am not!” he denied, touching his face and wiping his cheeks. “I’m just...sweaty. Shut up and come here.” he mumbled, pulling you back into his arms. “Stay the night with me”

*~*..........

“WOAH!” You had shot up, looking frantically around. You inhaled sharply, running a hand through your hair. Your head was pounding at the onslaught of emotions.

“Hey...You alright?” A groggy Yoongi grabbed your attention. You looked at the clock next to your bed. 3:47AM. “What’s wrong?”

“W-wow...” you sighed. “just a bunch of weird thoughts...going through my head.” you sighed, “Very confusing.”

You felt a kiss on your shoulder, hearing Yoongi laugh. “Hm, wanna talk about it?”

“Just about everything.” you raised an eyebrow. You shook your head at Yoongi’s weird expression.

“What?” he raised an eyebrows. “Like about...us?” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around you. “I told you-”

“I mean you also did say that there are men dying to be with me and that I don’t deserve you.” you giggled, you stuck your tongue out at him.

“Oh really?” he chuckled, pecking your lips. “You are weird sometimes, but...I like it.” You threw your arms around Yoongi’s torso, pulling him into a hug. You grabbed Yoongi’s shirt collar and pulled him towards you. You kissed Yoongi, throwing your arms around his neck. “But I meant every word, I half expected you to laugh in my face and leave.”

Yoongi wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his body. Maybe this was a little different, but Yoongi has never kissed you like this before. He tangled you hair in his hands, running his fingertips through each strand. His other hand caressed your cheek. You tried to pull back to breathe a little but he pulled you back into his lips, moaning almost pleadingly as if he needed your lips on his, not that you minded.

You were yanked onto Yoongi’s lap just as you began to pull his shirt over his head. His body was warm, and heaving. His hands creeped under your shirt, but stopped. “No...we’re gonna do this right.”

Yoongi suddenly pinned you down onto your back, crashing his mouth over yours again. “I’m taking care of you from now on.” he whispered against your lips. “I’m gonna take you out every damn day, stay with you every fucking night, tend to your every needs needs...starting with-”

“Don’t say it.” you cut him off. “Yoongi you know how I feel about word and you know good and well that if you say it that I’ll-.”

“I’m gonna start with taking care of that sweet little pussy. “He cut you off with a sinister sounding chuckle. “What’s wrong Y/N...You don’t want me to tell you I’m gonna take care of that sweet. little. pussy? “ he cooed. “It’s the least i can do for making you wait so long.”

”You’re so vulgar!” you covered your face. His hands creeped under your clothes.

“Hm, I always am.” he laughed, yanking your jeans off. “Fuck, you better buckle up Y/N.”

“Um...what exactly are you planning.”

“Nothing much...it’s just gonna get messy.” he winked, yanking your panties down too. “For me anyways. So you’re gonna sit back and enjoy it”

Oh...oh shit was he gonna-

You were cut off by a lewd water sound echoing through the room, along with a huge shiver skyrocketing up your spine. You looked down to find Yoongi with his lips clasped to your clit. He must’ve noticed you looking because he began lashing his tongue against your hot flesh, flicking up your slit with each pass of his mouth.

Now he had never done that before.

You gripped onto the bed sheet, trying to stay quiet. You’re silent cries only urged Yoongi to make his movements more...well urgent. Yoongi once again, being the vulgar man he was sucked on your clit more harshly, this time moaning into your heat, just to send vibrations back down your spine. You felt his fingers slide into your tight hole, beginning to thrust into you.

“You’re so dirty.” you cried, almost arching into your back. “Smug B-bastard.”

“No I’d say the opposite. You on the other hand.” he chuckled. “It’s dripping down my chin.” he moaned. You watched as he licked his fingers. “But it’s dripping even more down your leg.”

“Stop it.” you covered your face, feeling your cheeks heat up intensely. “So vulgar.” you whined as Yoongi crawled over you, making sure to trail his togue over every slope of your skin.

“But you like it though.” he winked. “I’m not done with you yet.” he growled, hooking his arms around each of your thighs and yanking you closer to him.

“So uh...be honest with me. What’s the probability I’ll be able to walk in the morning.” you asked.

“Slim to none” he answered, yanking off his sweats.

“Thought so...” you replied, just as Yoongi pinned your arms over your head.

“I love you Y/N.” he mumbled before he took all of you.

(Lowkey have the urge to do some tsundere stuff....I dunno yet. Bro this was so hard to write I hope the request was what the ask wanted.)

338 notes · View notes

nazamax · 4 years

Note

All the sweetheart asks. Heh.

Are you kidding me... It took me AGES.

Talk about your first love.It was young and foolish. Full of hidden kisses, rules we’d both break, nightly sneaking out. Holding hands when we’d be alone and me teasing her whenever there were eyes on us. Quite dumb, when I think about it. It was fun while it lasted.

What’s the most beautiful songs you’ve ever heard in your opinion?The most beautiful songs are those who have memories that are dear and important connected to them.

How’s your heart feeling right now?A little hurt, still, however I can feel it heal. It’s a wonderful feeling.

What kind of self care is your favorite to do?Is working out self care? Because I do enjoy that. If not... I do enjoy letting myself turn off the phone fully, cook a delicious meal and let myself game for few hours. I don’t have much time for that in my life since it’s quite busy so I find it truly relaxing.

What’s your skincare routine?I use a cleanser, moisturizer daily. Sunscreen, lip balm and hand cream if needed.

How did you get to be so beautiful?I worked hard on it, haha. Thanks.

Do you have any stuffed animals?I actually have a few still back in London, haha.

Best trip you’ve ever been on?It’s hard to choose between Japan and Nice. Those are my favourite places to be.

Favorite thing about your room?I love the roof-windows. It’s nice to wake up to the sun lighting up the room so neatly.

Opinion on love?It’s something that shouldn’t be toyed with - the phrase “I love you” can be told without actual meaning behind it - one should be more careful about it. It can hurt, it can be ugly. It takes patience and time. It’s not all about kisses and sex, beauty and smiles. It’s about seeing the ugly parts of someone you want in your life, accepting them and working on with them. Love doesn’t change you, it only pulls out the new parts of you that you weren’t sure of.

Are you affectionate?Oh, I am.

Who do you look up to?That’s a great question. In a way - I guess it’s my mother. She’s a wonderful woman who has it all in life.

Favorite poet?I don’t have one.

Song that makes you happy? How about one that calms you down when you’re in a bad place?Aaron Smith's Dancin' & STRFKR - Golden Light.

Do you play an instrument?I can play a few chords on guitar haha.

Do you do art? Using what (pencil, watercolor, etc)?I’m not really good at it, I can make sketches with pencils though.

Do you dance? What style of dance?I remember learning to dance classical stuff like waltz and all, but really? If club-dancing is a thing, I’m good at that.

What’s your zodiac sign? Do you believe in astrology?I’m capricorn. I don’t actually follow the things, never was too interested, but it’s fun to read horoscopes or see stuff that actually turns out to be true.

Favorite old film?A tough one... I love The Shining.

What’s your hairstyle?Ranging between neat medium cut to buzzcut.

What weather is the most beautiful, in your opinion?I love the opposites - both when it’s chilly, you can snuggle up in your favourite sweaters with your fingers wrapped around a cuppa tea as well as hot days when you can sunbathe for hours.

What upsets you most about the world?Humans. Society. We destroy Earth, we destroy each other. There are so many things that are wrong in this world that it’s hard to name them all.

Are you in love right now?I am, yes.

Do you have a crush? If so, talk about them!I remember the first time I realised I actually have a crush on them. They sat across me, smiling, drinking their margarita, with a smile so bright and warm I could catch myself staring almost rudely. Whenever they’d look in my direction I couldn’t help but look away and act as if I wasn’t interested too much, laugh with someone else at our table and just nod and smile to my crush. On that evening I knew I was fucked. Not literally, of course.

Do you have pets? Talk about something sweet about them!I don’t have any pets.

Do you have a lucky number?No, I don’t.

Have you ever wished on a star? What about on a fallen eyelash?Yes and yes.

Do you believe emoji spells to work?What’s an emoji spell?

Do you believe in magic in general?I’m more of a science guy haha.

What’s the most beautiful thing in life, In your opinion?To be able to shape your life as you want it. Life is full of possibilities and you can have all you want - you just have to put work in it. I don’t mean you can force relationships or anything that concerns other people, but reaching one’s goals? Go for it. Create yourself. Be you. That’s beautiful.

Opinion on the color pink? What about baby blue?I do like both colours, actually.

What instrumental sound is your favorite?I do like the sound of guitars... But I can’t choose, sorry.

Do you like the sound of wind? What about the sound of rain?I enjoy both of these.

Who makes you happy?@cowieadam haha.

What makes you happy?To see where my life is going to. Despite all the dark times I’ve gone though, I’m happy with the outcome.

Imagine your ideal life, the life you wish to make, what will that look like?The way that it is now. I wouldn’t change a thing. I don’t want “ideal”, I don’t want “perfect”.

Do you wear makeup? If so what’s your favorite type of makeup or specific makeup product? Favorite store to buy makeup?I do wear it whenever I’m having my photos shot, but I don’t really know what kind of stuff they use - it’s always different.

Do you wear dresses? If so what’s your favorite dress you own?No.

Ever been heartbroken? How do you deal with it?Yes. Usually I take it out in a boxing ring, by travelling somewhere with my camera or crying it out alone.

Who’s your closest friend? What do you love about them?I have a few, actually, I can’t choose one.

Introvert or extrovert?Ambivert.

Do you like MBTI? What’s your MBTI?I’ve never done the test but I definitely should!

Would you be a fairy, a mermaid, a vampire, a siren, a or an angel?Perhaps an angel. Fairies are too small, mermaids... Good take but I’d pass, same with sirens. Vampires are cool but I love sun too much.

What’s the best song a friend has ever introduced to you?I really can’t remember.

Parlez-vous français?Oui, je parle français!

Most beautiful place you’ve been to?Ohhh this is so hard to choose! I did love the alps back in Italy, I loved the Tokyo metropolis, I love my home back in Russia...

Where/when do you truly feel at home?Both Volgograd and London.

Does smiling put you in a better mood? Try it right now, you’re smile is goreous!Yes, smiling helps!

Favorite shoe you own?My white nike sneakers. They’re a little worn out and I have more than one pair that look better than these, but I love wearing them when I travel somewhere to the nature.

Can you walk in stilettos? Do you like them?I don’t.

Do you feel loved?Yes, definitely.

How do you express love to those you care about?It depends on the person and how they decide to accept my love so there’s no answer for that that could be universal.

Favorite term(s) of endearment?Котик/darling/babe.

Most romantic thing someone’s ever done for you?The latest thing that is stuck in my memory - a date to a museum, followed by an evening picnic by the lake and enjoying the boat ride there. I found it lovely...

When is the happiest you’ve ever been?Now.

Are you happy right now?Yes.

What makes you smile?Currently - two kids fighting over a remote ahaha.

Do you laugh a lot?I guess?

What’s your favorite kind of aesthetic?I have few in mind but... Sun tanned skin, red wine, yellow houses, sunflowers, sea, the sound of waves crashing, distant voices, a smile of a beloved one, sunglasses. Something that takes me back to Italy.

Do you want to marry for love or for some other reason (like money)?For love.

What would your dream wedding look like? Do you want to get married?I never thought about it and perhaps it’s something I’ll leave for the future. Eventually though - perhaps if it’s the right person.

Favorite flower?Peonies. They remind me of France.

Favorite artist?Again, I can’t choose one! I’ll go with Warhol.

Favorite music artist?Picking a favourite is hard! I don’t know haha.

How kind do you think you are? Is kindness important to you?I think I’m kind to those that deserve it and show it back. I think it’s very important to show consideration.

Ever made a playlist for someone?I think some years ago, yeah.

Do you have anything you do to physically comfort you when your sad? Such as a favorite blanket? Or a relaxing bath?Again, I do enjoy going to the gym because my mind moves forward from sadness and pushes me forward. I as well enjoy hot relaxing baths or cuddling up on a couch and my favourite cushion.

Early bird or night owl?A bird that doesn’t sleep enough, for sure.

Morning routine?Wake up, shave, wash my face, jump into sneakers and my running outfit, go for a run, come back, set water for coffee to boil, take a shower, get the breakfast.

Night routine?I don’t have anything specific for nights.

What is the most lovely quality a person could have in your opinion?Being able to see past the differences, accepting more than they know.

Do you cry often? Does crying help you get the emotions out? Do you feel better after?I don’t cry too often, at least not anymore.

Do you like hugs?Oh, yes!

When was the last time you kissed someone?This morning.

Are you small or tall?Tall.

Do you like wholesome memes?YES!

Favorite thing about the past?I’ve learned a lot about myself and the world itself. It made me who I am.

Do you ever wonder about the future?Naturally yes.

Have you ever lived in a different country than you currently live in?Yes. France, Russia, Italy.

Do you like plane flights? Airports?I do, something relaxing about them.

Sunrises or sunsets?Both have their own magic.

The beach or a forest?I go to beaches more often but I enjoy the forest.

What time of day do you tend to be in the best mood?Past noon.

Do you push yourself to act together and in a good mood even when you aren’t?Yes, my job taught me that.

Favorite kind of tree?Acacia. Though it’s more of a shrub, but still.

Do you care about the health of the Earth?I try to, yes.

What did you like most about your childhood, if anything?Mom’s cooking...

Do you read a lot? What’s your favorite book?I love reading. I always wanted to read Camus’ L’etranger and honestly? I loved it.

What are you most nostalgic for at the moment?For the beautiful memories I spent with the wrong person.

What’s your favorite personality trait you have?I’m determined. No matter what.

List at least ONE thing you love about your appearance.My dimples haha.

When was the last time you truly felt calm, without much of anything to worry about?This night.

Do you worry a lot?I tend to, but I’m working on that.

The dazzling lights of the city or the relaxing countryside?Oh, both. I love both of these experiences...

Ever changed the shoelaces on one of your shoes? For what reason?My ex’s cat stole it so I had to.

Favorite pastry?A hard choice between crème brûlée and medovik.

Do you like doing little acts of kindness?I do, makes others and self smile.

How’s your day/night going?It’s great, I’m a little sore but that’s nothing too bad. ;)

#Asks.#Thanks ;)#cowieadam

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pikapeppa · 5 years

Text

Fenris/f!Hawke modern AU: Tequila

Chapter 5 of Damned Spot is up on AO3! It ends on a bit of a cliffhanger BUT THE NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE UP EITHER TONIGHT OR TOMORROW, I PROMISE. Posting this one tonight for @dadrunkwriting Friday!

In which Fenris and Rynne flail around like awkward idiots in the wake of the previous night’s party. Tiiiiiiny hint of smut. Previous chapters can be read here: [1] [2] [3] [4]

And beautiful art of this fic can be seen on the Tumblr of my partner in life and crime, the ever-talented @schoute.

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

2:21pm - you had fun last night. admit it!

Rynne’s phone made a little swish sound as it whisked her message away to Fenris. She grinned to herself as she pulled her sunglasses from her forehead down to her nose, then stepped out into the brilliant afternoon sunshine.

She was still on a high from how great the party was. After the intensity of the conversation on the balcony, Fenris had spent the rest of the night by her side. They’d both continued drinking, and he’d started loosening up, and Rynne lost her breath every damned time he laughed. He talked more than she’d expected, firmly sharing his opinions in the ebb and flow of conversations as they moved among the various groups of people in the house, and he was just…

He was so fucking smart. And articulate. And surprisingly opinionated. Rynne hadn’t expected that either, given how infrequently he participated in chit-chat at the Hanged Man. But now that she’d seen him talking more freely, it was more obvious than ever that his customary reserved silence masked an unceasing river of thought rather than a lack of anything important to say.

His opinions didn’t always match with hers. In addition to the lyrium issue, Fenris favoured the death penalty and really seemed to hate big corporations like Amazon. Rynne, on the other hand, supported rehab for convicted criminals and didn’t particularly care where her stuff came from as long as it was cheap. She and Fenris butted heads a few times, and the conversation became rather heated on more than one occasion - too heated for Isabela, who complained that this was a party and not a courthouse - but somehow, Rynne always managed to diffuse the tension and make him smile.

And as soon as Fenris smiled, every hint of cogent thought fled her foolish brain.

He’d followed her from the couch to the kitchen to the games room, scoffing at her jokes and returning her teasing with rapid-fire retorts that made her laugh so hard her stomach hurt. He’d point-blank refused to dance with her, but it hadn’t stopped her from dancing up on him like the shameless tart that she was. At one point, while she was twisting in front of him like a snake, he put his hand on her waist.

Fenris had touched her. Touched her of his own free will, twice in a single night. He’d shaken his head and smirked at her as his elegant, tattooed fingers squeezed her waist, and…

Maker’s balls, Rynne really wanted to fuck him.

But it was so much more than that. Usually Rynne was happy to hop into bed with whoever caught her interest, and if the fling became more than physical, that was a happy plus. But with Fenris… She got the sense that that wouldn’t work for him, and that she’d have to wait for him to come around to the idea of sleeping with her.

Rynne didn’t care. She was more than happy to wait. She would wait for him for months if she had to, because she could happily admit the truth: in the space of less than two months, she’d become more attached to Fenris than to any other romantic partner she’d ever had.

Fenris knew her worst secret, the one she’d been forced to hold most closely to her chest, and he didn’t think she was a horrible person for what she’d done. He’d given her a few secrets of his own, and she knew that was no small thing for him. Somehow, for some reason, Rynne trusted him at a visceral, instinctual level, just as much as she trusted Piper and Cullen. And in the most uninhibited depths of her heart, she knew that she would wait for him for as long as it took.

But hopefully it wouldn’t take too long.

She cheerfully hummed along to her tropical house playlist as she made her way to Athenril’s coffee shop in Lowtown. She was so busy rehashing the happy events of the previous night that she was halfway to Lowtown before she realized that Fenris hadn’t texted her back.

She pulled out her phone and swiped through to her messages.

2:33pm - fine, play coy, i dont mind ;) 2:33pm - seriously though i’m really glad you came

She popped her phone back in her pocket, but to her happy surprise, it dinged less than a minute later.

2:34pm - Thank you for having me.

I haven’t had you yet, she thought cheekily. But she would keep that thought to herself. For now, at least.

2:34pm - anytime ^^ 2:34pm - are you super hungover? did i wake you up? lol

2:34pm - No. I’ve been up for hours. Some of us don’t have the luxury of blackout curtains in every bedroom window.

Aw. So snarky, she thought fondly. She could imagine the crease of his eyebrows and the smirk on his lips as he texted her. The image fostered a warm feeling in her belly, and she grinned to herself as she stepped into the road.

“Hawke! Be careful!” A strong female hand grabbed her elbow and pulled her back, and Rynne squealed in alarm as a taxi screeched around the corner in the spot where she’d just been standing.

“Fuck!” Rynne gasped. She pulled out one earphone and stared up at Aveline, who was scowling at her with a look that she usually reserved for shoplifting teenagers. “Av! My hero! Kirkwall’s finest at her very best! How are you?”

“I’m fine. But you need to pay attention to your surroundings,” Aveline scolded. “Turn your music down. You would have heard that cab coming if your music was quieter.”

Rynne tilted her head playfully. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over my music. What was that you said?”

Aveline pursed her lips. “Very funny.” She waved a hand for Rynne to cross the street, and they made their way in the direction of Lowtown together.

“Seriously though, how are you?” Rynne asked. “How’s Donnic?”

Aveline’s expression softened at the mention of her husband. “He’s well, thank you. Enjoying paternity leave.” She smiled slightly, and Rynne grinned at the pinkness of the police captain’s cheeks.

“And how’s Carver doing?” Rynne asked. “I hope he listens to you more than he ever listened to me. It would be embarrassing for a police officer to get another ticket for parking in a no-parking zone.”

“He’s doing very well,” Aveline replied. Her tone held a hint of censure. “He’s a hard worker, you know. A good addition to the precinct. And yes, he listens well, so no complaints there.” Aveline shot her a sideways look. “It’s been a while since you’ve seen each other, hasn’t it?”

Rynne shrugged casually. “Yep.” It had been about six months, in fact. But it was better this way. It wasn’t like Carver wanted to see her, anyway.

She changed the subject. “What are you doing out in these parts, anyway?” she asked. “I thought you were more of a desk jockey these days. Are half of the precinct on vacation or something?”

Aveline pursed her lips again. “A good captain keeps her eyes and ears on the street whenever she has a chance,” she announced. She gave Hawke a knowing look. “You should be grateful that I’m out and about. You’d be roadkill otherwise.”

“That I would,” Rynne chuckled, and she slipped her hand through the crook of Aveline’s arm. “Care to escort me the rest of the way to Athenril’s, just in case I decide to wander into traffic again?”

Aveline smiled. “I’m afraid not. I’ll be leaving you here, actually. I’m off to the docks.” She patted Rynne’s hand, then pulled away. “Be careful,” she warned. “Volume down!”

“Yeah, all right!” Rynne waved and popped her earphones back in at full volume, then pulled her phone out again.

No further texts from Fenris. The ball was still in her court.

2:40pm - hey, those blackout curtains are necessary ok 2:40pm - you don’t know this, but im actually a vampire 2:41pm - i spontaneously combust in direct sunlight 2:41pm - none of that sparkly diamond skin twilight bullshit. i’m the real deal

She held her phone loosely in her hand as she strolled along. When he didn’t reply a few minutes later, she lifted her phone and tapped out another message.

2:44pm - what are you up to today? wanna hang out later?

She sent the message before she could stop to think twice. Maybe she was being overeager, but she’d really enjoyed spending time with him last night. They were both off work until Tuesday, and if she had to wait that long to see him again, she would drive Piper up the wall with her gushing.

By the time she reached Athenril’s coffee shop, he still hadn’t replied. But as luck would have it, he didn’t need to. As Rynne stepped into the cafe, she instantly spotted a familiar black-clad and hooded figure standing at the counter with his hands shoved into his pockets.

She grinned, then sashayed over to him and leaned against the counter. “Excuse me, sir. Are you a janitor? Because you’ve swept me off my feet.”

Fenris recoiled at her abrupt appearance, then his eyebrows rose as he recognized her. “Hawke! What are you doing here?”

“Inspecting the goods, of course,” she said. She bit her lip and gave him a coy smile.

To her slight disappointment, he didn’t smirk in return. Instead, he ran a hand over his hood and dropped his gaze.

Rynne straightened up. “I’m picking up an order,” she explained. “It’s our usual after-party thing. Unfortunately, I drew the short straw for pick-up today.” She stood on her tiptoes and waved at Emile, who held up two fingers to her.

She nodded, then turned back to Fenris. “Did you get my text?” she asked brightly.

“I did,” he confirmed. And he said nothing more.

Rynne frowned slightly. He wasn’t looking her in the eye. Maybe he was just really focused on getting his coffee, but she was getting a distinctly weird vibe from him.

Well, he’d been weird when she first him, and that hadn’t thrown her off. “So. What are you up to today?” she said. “Want to come over and hang out with us?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t,” he said. “I’ve… I have errands to look after.” He nodded at the barista as she handed him his coffee, then turned away from the counter and from Rynne.

Her stomach started writhing. What was wrong with him? Had she done something wrong? She could hear Isabela’s voice in her mind telling her to brush him off and let it go, but Rynne’s shameless, prideless tongue wouldn’t stop wagging.

She followed him as he moved toward the door. “Do you want to go for dinner with me?” she blurted. “There’s an Antivan tapas place that just opened in Hightown. I haven’t been there yet, but Varric said the fish tacos are to die for.”

“No,” Fenris said bluntly. “I mean - no, thank you. I will see you on Tuesday.” He finally looked her in the eye - the briefest, most neutral look - then pushed open the door to the coffee shop and left.

Rynne stood dumbly near the door as she watched him leave. Then she slowly made her way back to the counter.

“Hé, Hawke!” Emile glided over and handed her a tray of drinks and a paper bag as he reeled off their regular order. “One Nevarran spiced chai, one espresso, one black drip coffee and one Arlathan apple spice, and one mixed box of Orlesian petit-fours… hey, are you okay?”

She hauled her face into a smile. “Yeah,” she lied. “I just remembered I haven’t done my taxes yet.”

Emile’s face fell. “Ah merde, I haven’t either! My father will have a fit…” He pulled his phone from his pocket and began madly tapping at the screen.

Hawke grimaced guiltily and backed away from the counter. “Er, sorry! I’ll, uh, see you later.” She hurried away from the counter and left the cafe, but as soon as she was on the street again, she let her smile fall away.

Her chest felt heavy, like someone had dropped a pile of rocks into her rib cage. Why was Fenris being so cold? Maybe she’d said something stupid last night that she didn’t remember. She had been pretty drunk by the end of the night. Maybe they’d argued about something

Or maybe she was just a deluded idiot, and he wasn’t actually interested in her at all.

She pulled her sunglasses down to hide her burning eyes. It doesn’t matter. He’s just a boy, she told herself. A handsome, intelligent boy with hidden depths, but still just a boy. As Isabela would say, boys come and go - literally and metaphorically - and they were imminently replaceable.

Maybe if she kept telling this to herself, the stupid childish pain in her chest would go away.

Maybe if she kept telling this to herself, she would start to believe it.

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

Hawke slid Fenris’s water with lime across the bar. “Hey,” she said.

He nodded. “Hawke,” he greeted, but she’d already glided away to the other side of the bar.

Fenris watched her wistfully for a moment, then lifted his water and turned around on his stool to face the rest of the pub. The Hanged Man was relatively quiet, as was usual for a Tuesday; they didn’t do karaoke on Tuesdays, so the customary mix of 80s new wave and 90s grunge was pumping through the speakers and carrying the conversational susurrus of the laid-back post-work crowd.

Fenris sighed quietly. He slid his hand into his pocket and idly toyed with his phone. This was the first contact he’d had with Hawke since he’d run into her at Athenril’s cafe on Sunday. She hadn’t sent him a single text since then.

She’d only started texting him regularly about a week ago, but it was odd how quickly he’d become accustomed to the presence of her sunny swearing and ridiculous typos on his phone. Since the run-in on Sunday, she’d gone completely radio silent. It was…

Necessary, he told himself. It was necessary. She was getting too close, and Fenris couldn’t let that happen. The closer she got, the more dangerous it was for them both.

He’d been a fool at the party on Saturday. On the balcony during that moment of weakness, he’d told her Danarius’s name, and it was a foolish fucking mistake. Knowing even that much information was a risk to them both. What if she tried to Google Danarius, and someone was spying on her search histories and tracked her down to get information about Fenris’s whereabouts? Fenris used a VPN for all his online browsing, but Rynne didn’t seem the type to care about that kind of thing. Fenris wasn’t ready for Danarius and his men to come after him. He needed more time.

If Hawke learned anything more about Fenris, it could compromise his goals. His revenge would be at stake. Worse yet, Hawke herself would be in danger, and Fenris’s blood ran cold at the thought of any harm coming to her.

He briefly turned back to the bar and lifted his water. As he sipped from his glass, he glanced at Hawke again; she was leaning her elbows on the bar and giggling with a pair of businessmen.

“Puppy eyes.”

He turned and met Piper’s shrewd amber gaze. “What was that?”

“Puppy eyes,” she repeated. “That’s what Merrill would call your face right now.” Her eyebrows were lifted and her lips were pursed; her expression was the definition of unimpressed.

Fenris frowned and turned away. “There are no puppy eyes.”

Piper snorted. She leaned over the bar and stared at the side of his face. “This would be cute if we were all sixteen. News flash: we’re not. We’re all fucking adults.”

Fenris refused to look at her. He restlessly ran his thumb across his phone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes you do,” Piper retorted. For a long moment, she stared fixedly at him as though he was a bizarre piece of art, then straightened up and wafted away.

Fenris scowled at her slender back, then replaced his glass of water on the bar and went to sit by the door of the Hanged Man. Only one bouncer was needed on Tuesdays to monitor the inside the pub, but Fenris couldn’t help but wish he could sit outside today.

An agonizing few hours later, after the waitstaff had cleaned up and gone home, Fenris made his way to the bar while Piper and Hawke were starting to lay out the cash. But before he could say goodnight, Piper raised her eyebrows at him.

“I have to leave early,” she said.

Hawke’s head whipped up at her words. “What? Since when?”

“Since two hours ago,” Piper said pertly. “Cullen got off work early tonight, so guess who else will be getting off early?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Hawke groaned and rolled her eyes. “Wow. That was a stretch, even for you.”

Piper snickered and bumped Hawke’s hip. “It was clever and you know it.” She smiled as Hawke chuckled, then turned back to Fenris. “Can you help Hawke to count the cash?”

Fenris tensed, and Hawke’s grin immediately slid away. “What? No! I can do it on my own-”

Piper flapped her hands. “No, Fenris can help.” She looked at him. “I asked Varric already, he’s paying you for an extra hour. That works out for everyone, right?” Piper’s tone was light and friendly, but her eyes were like daggers on his face.

He clenched his jaw and gave her a hard stare, but her strong chin was belligerently lifted, and… well, the whole point of being here was the money. If he was being paid for an extra hour…

He turned his gaze to Hawke. “I’ll help. Tell me what to do, and it is done.”

Hawke stared at him for a second, then smiled tightly and shoved a pile of twenties toward him. “Fine. I hope you can do math.”

He frowned slightly. “Of course I can.” He sat on a bar stool across from her and lifted the pile of bills.

“Good,” Hawke said. “Because I can’t. Pipes is the brains of this operation.”

Piper laughed. “Nice try, bitch. You’re brilliant too.” She checked her phone, then hitched her purse onto her shoulder and waved at them. “Cullen’s just outside. Have a good night!”

“Bye. I hate you,” Hawke called to her departing back.

“Love you too!” Piper chirped, and then she was gone, leaving Fenris and Hawke alone.

Hawke stared blankly at him for a second, then shot him an alarmingly bright smile. “Who wants a drink?” She turned away and grabbed a lower-shelf bottle of tequila, then pulled out two shot glasses.

“Oh. Er - perhaps just one-” Fenris said dumbly, but Hawke was already pouring him a shot.

The pushed the tiny glass of tequila across the bar to him, then poured one for herself and immediately drank it. “Want a piece of peach with that?” she asked. “Piper calls it Fen’harel’s Fuzzy Cock. Well, she does when we add some lime juice to it. Three ingredients makes it a cocktail.” She winked at him as she poured herself a second shot.

“No,” Fenris said. “No peach is necessary.” He downed the shot and winced at the harsh burn of cheap liquor, then began counting the stack of twenties.

Hawke chattered the entire time they were counting the cash. Fenris listened as she complained about her favourite food stand in Lowtown closing last week and an outlandish anime she’d just finished watching and how she was planning a trip to Rivain in a couple of months. He watched with no small amount of wonder as she managed to swiftly count the cash and write the amounts on a spreadsheet while simultaneously talking and pouring them shot after shot of tequila.

By the time the task was almost done, Fenris was feeling a little hazy from the drinks, and he wasn’t sure how helpful he had ultimately been. “You may want to check this,” he confessed as he pushed a pile of dimes toward her. “I counted twenty-three, but I… I may have miscounted.”

She grinned at him. Her coppery eyes were brilliant from the booze. “Some helper you are,” she teased. She quickly counted the coins again, her face briefly furrowing into a frown as she counted them, then gave him a satisfied smile. “You’re good,” she said, and she wrote the amount on her spreadsheet, then began to tally it all up with a calculator.

Fenris watched her as she worked. She hummed to herself as she tapped in the numbers, some song that was vaguely familiar to him from earlier that night. Her face was peaceful and her tiny smile was sweet, and…

Venhedis, he wished his life really were this simple. If only he really was just a man working at a pub with a beautiful woman who hummed happy songs while she counted the cash. But this kind of simplicity, of uncomplicated peace and quiet… This was as foreign to Fenris as his native language was to her, and there was no point pining for something so bright when all his future held was blood.

She looked up from her spreadsheet and tapped at the computer over the till, then punched her fist in the air. “Yesss. Counted the cash while drunk. Pipes and Varric will be so proud! Or horrified. I can’t decide.” She grinned at him, but her smile froze when she met his eyes.

He stared at her, unable to breathe and unable to look away from her stricken expression. Then she dropped her eyes and began replacing the cash into the drawer. “Fenris, can you put the bigger bills into that envelope, we’ll lock it up separately in the safe-”

He reached out and took her hand. “Hawke,” he blurted, “I… I am sorry.”

Her hands went still, and her eyes darted back to his face. “Sorry for what?” she said faintly.

He hesitated as he realized that he wasn’t entirely sure what to apologize for. He hadn’t forced Hawke to talk to him, after all. She’d flirted with him and garnered his unwavering attention without any particular encouragement from him. He hadn’t asked her to be his friend. He hadn’t asked her to become the first person he’d trusted in a very long time. If he was sorry for anything, it was that he’d indulged her incessant attempts at conversation and gotten them both into this uncomfortable position in the first place.

But he couldn’t tell her that, not without explaining why they couldn’t be… whatever she clearly wanted this to be. Finally he settled on a cheap diversion. “You’re a beautiful woman. Is there no one else who has your attention?”

Her eyebrows leapt high on her forehead, and she smiled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that first part.”

He gave her a chiding look. “I’m a Tevinter gangster with years’ worth of blood on my hands,” he said bluntly. “None of those things bother you?”

She turned her hand in his grip and squeezed his fingers. “You’re not a gangster anymore,” she said.

A wriggle of guilt burrowed into Fenris’s belly, but Hawke wasn’t finished. “Besides, if I was interested in anyone else, I’d be with them. I’m only interested in you.”

He stared at her with growing puzzlement. “Why?” he said hoarsely. Now that he thought about it, he genuinely wasn’t sure why she was so drawn to him. He wasn’t even particularly nice to her. Kaffas, he’d been a downright ass the last time he’d seen her, and purposely so.

She raised an eyebrow and smiled slowly at him. “What, you want me to list all the reasons?”

With horror, he realized that it indeed sounded like he’d been soliciting compliments. “No,” he said hastily, but it was too late; she was already pouring more shots and talking.

“You’re smart. You’re funny when you’re in the mood. When you’re not in the mood, your angry face makes me want to rip my clothes off. I…” She trailed off and ran a hand through her tufty hair. “You get me, Fenris. Or I thought you did.” She downed the shot and poured herself another. “It also doesn’t hurt that you’re fucking gorgeous.” She tilted her head. “Why are you asking me this? Do you like me?”

With a slightly shaking hand, he gulped the shot she’d poured, then watched as she filled his glass again. “That is not the issue,” he hedged. “Whether I like you or not is irrel-”

She bluntly cut him off. “It’s a simple question, Fenris,” she said. “Do you like me, or don’t you? I can’t tell, you see. I need you to break it down for me like the idiot that I am.”

He shook his head in growing exasperation. This was not where he’d meant this conversation to go. Where… where had he meant this conversation to go? He couldn’t quite remember.

He lifted the shot glass to his lips. “We shouldn’t be together,” he insisted, then downed the shot.

She frowned, then placed her glass on the bar with a clatter and poured two more. “I told you stuff about me that no one else knows. And I thought… I thought it was the same for you. Was I wrong?”

“N-no,” Fenris said. He was feeling increasingly agitated. He was starting to get the distinct sense that he was being interrogated; ironic, since he was the one who had clumsily started this conversation.

“Then what’s the problem?” she asked. “Do do you like me or not? That’s all that-”

“Yes,” he finally snapped. “Yes, I do, all right? I like you, Hawke. I think about you, and… in fact, I’ve been able to think of little else.” He snatched the shot from the bar and gulped it in one big swallow, then slammed the glass on the bar and glared at her.

Her mouth had dropped into a comical little ‘o’. Fenris dragged a hand through his hair. “Why are you staring at me like that?” he demanded.

Her expression slowly lifted into a brilliant smile. “I didn’t expect you to say ‘yes’,” she said. Then she burst into laughter.

Fenris planted one elbow on the bar and pointed at her accusingly. “You see? This - your - you laugh like this and it… You drive me mad with your incessant flirting and your laughing and that macabre little dress of yours with the skulls-”

“Oh, that dress,” she drawled. Her voice was vibrant with mirth, like laughter smoothed and curled into speech. “You liked that dress, did you?”

“I…” He buried his spinning head in his hands, then scowled at her again. “I wanted to peel it off and watch it pooling around your feet,” he growled.

Her eyes widened, and Fenris watched with a nearly-vindictive rush of satisfaction as her cheeks turned pink. “Well, fuck me sideways,” she breathed.

Her evocative curse painted a brilliant picture in his mind: Hawke naked and sweaty, stretched on her side while he slid up behind her and stroked the inside of her thigh…

A roar of heat blazed through his chest from throat to groin, and he dragged in a heavy breath. His eyes were fixed on her lips, her plump and parted lips, and suddenly it felt like he couldn’t catch his breath, not even if he was panting for it.

Then Hawke lunged toward him and hooked her hand around the back of his neck, and before he could do more than gasp in surprise, she was kissing him.

Hawke was kissing him. Hawke’s lips, her fingers on his neck, it was… she was…

The next thing he knew, he was on his feet with one hand gripping her short dark hair as he leaned over the bar and kissed her back, and she was whimpering against his lips like the wanton little thing she was. There was a faint clatter of coins as she splayed her palm on the bar - the bar, the fucking blasted bar that stood between them, separating them and stopping them from doing something stupid-

She petted his neck and released a tiny sob of want when he nipped her lower lip. “Fenris,” she begged. “I want - I…”

“Come here,” he breathed. This was a foolish thing to do, an act of complete idiocy, but Fenris couldn’t stop: he was drunk on her, intoxicated by the reddened look of her lips and the taste of tequila on her tongue and the sheer shining joy in her eyes, and he wanted this more than he’d ever wanted anything in his cursed life.

Hawke smiled against his lips, then pushed away from the bar and hefted herself onto its surface, and Fenris gaped at her as she clumsily scrambled over the bar and onto her feet beside him.

She grabbed the lapels of his jacket. “Now, where were we?”

He didn’t waste his breath replying. He dragged her against his body and slid his thigh between her legs, then swallowed her rapturous cry with another kiss.

She slid her tongue against his own, then broke away with a moan as he slipped his fingers into her loose camisole and up along her ribs. “Fucking Maker’s balls,” she whined, then she gasped and thrust her hips against his leg as he snuck his fingers under her bra and pinched her nipple.

He breathed hard as he palmed her pert little breast. His body was thrumming, heavy and pulsing with the strength of his need for her, and he hadn’t felt this way in years. He hadn’t wanted this in years, not since he’d had the tattoos branded on his skin. The tattoos represented so many layers of resistance, of pain and emptiness and regret. Especially since leaving Tevinter, Fenris hadn’t wanted to be seen with these metaphorical scars staining his skin.

But in this moment, he would strip himself bare in the space of a second if it meant Hawke would strip herself as well.

He carefully licked her lower lip. “Let’s leave,” he whispered.

She pressed her lips together, then gasped again as he pinched her nipple harder. “Oh fuck,” she whined. “I… Fenris, we have to lock up the cash, I can’t just…”

He growled in frustration, and she laughed breathily. “You making that sound does not make this easier for me,” she panted. She pushed gently at his chest.

He reluctantly allowed her to step away, then penned her between his body and the bar. “A renegade with a work ethic?” he whispered in her ear.

She shivered prettily, and her hands were clumsy as she collected the cash. “Exactly,” she replied. “Never let it be said that I shirked my duties to this lovable dump.” She shoved the bigger bills into an envelope and replaced the remaining money in the drawer, then picked it all up and shifted away from him. “I’ll be super quick, I promise.”

He allowed her to move away, then shamelessly watched as she hurried to Varric’s office and let herself inside. While Hawke locked up the cash in Varric’s safe, Fenris pulled up his hood and wandered restlessly toward the door.

This was a bad idea, and he knew it. It was stupid and irresponsible, and he suspected that he was going to regret it tomorrow, but it just felt so fucking right. The lingering feeling of Hawke’s hands on his skin, stroking his neck and pressing against his chest - it warmed and riled him the more he thought about it. He thought about her lips and the sharp taste of her tongue, and it was so fucking wrong and selfish and unfair, and he was powerless to stop.

The distinct click of a lock caught his attention. He turned to see Hawke hurrying toward him with her phone in her hand. “I called an Uber,” she said. “It’ll be here in two minutes.”

Two minutes. He had two minutes to do the right thing. To tell her this was a mistake, that he was a complete and utter ass whose only legacy was a trail of bodies and blood and death, and that she should write him off altogether…

She slid her palms along his abs and lifted herself on her toes. “Kiss me while we wait,” she whispered.

He instinctively gripped her hips as she leaned into his chest. “You’re very demanding,” he said.

“Of course I am. This is everything I wanted,” she retorted. She bit her lip, and her gaze drifted up to his eyes. “You’re all I think about, too,” she murmured.

And just like that, Fenris was sunk. His resistance and his reasons were gone, obliterated by the woman in his arms, and in the muddled mess of his sex-scrambled mind, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

In this moment, all he cared about was her: the charming and infuriating woman in his arms, with all her merriness and her melancholy. And for tonight, Fenris was hers.

#fenris #fenris fic #fenris modern AU #fenris smut #damned spot #fenhawke #fenris/hawke #fenris x hawke #fenris/femhawke #fenris x femhawke #fenris/f!hawke #fenris x f!hawke #pikapeppa writes

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incorrectdeceptionquotes · 6 years

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A Bundle of Secrets Chapter 24

Chapter 24

A few days later...

“Berossi! You have a visitor.” A guard called.

Cornelia Berossi, formerly known as the mystery woman made her way over to the telephone station, wondering who would be visiting her, she had no family and her team had abandoned her. She was surprised to see Jonathan waiting for her by the phone. She sat down behind the glass and picked up the phone. “Hello Cornelia. That’s a lovely colour on you.” He smirked.

Cornelia rolled her pale blue eyes, “What do you want Jonathan?”

“Well, I have always wanted to see what it’s like being on the other side of this place.” His smirk turned to a frown, “And I came to say goodbye.”

“Goodbye?”

“You see, you were such an obsession for my life at one point that, it didn’t seem right to leave without a proper happy ending.”

Cornelia scoffed, “Happy ending?”

Jonathan raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Of course, this is me and my family’s happy ending. I’m done with you. You, behind bars with no legs left to stand on and... the odds of you getting out... are near impossible. Even if you did, you’d have a real tough time readjusting to society.”

She raised an eyebrow, “How are you so sure?”

“Oh, because you see,” He held up a newspaper with not only a picture of him and Cam having been reunited but a very clear picture of Cornelia’s mug shot in the corner, “The whole world knows who you are now.” Cornelia’s eyes widened as she looked at the newspaper, “There’s no more hiding for you. Time to face the spotlight.”

“Why did you do this?” She whispered as her nostrils flared.

“Oh, I didn’t do anything” Jonathan said putting the paper down, “I mean, with one of the Blancs having been taken to jail for murder of a civilian, the kidnapping and attempted murder of an FBI agent and that’s just naming a few, the article practically wrote itself.”

Cornelia sighed, “I wish you understood.”

“If you wanna be mad at someone, be mad at yourself.” The former mystery woman gave Jonathan a confused look and Johnny could help but... feel sorry for her, her life wasn’t easy and she clearly had problems that went beyond her hatred of his father but she had made her choices, “Look, you’re smart. Probably one of the smartest people I’ve ever met but you made one fatal mistake. You messed with my family. Now you have to answer for everything you’ve ever done.”

“You don’t understand, my mother made me who I am, I had to do things that no child should have to do.”

“So did I, so did Cam, so did a lot of other people in this world but they don’t all turn into psychopath killers who toy with people’s emotions and purposely ruin lives in the name of the greater good. Along the way, you start making your own choices.”

“People like our parents treated us like they could bend us to their will and never let us choose who we wanted to be.” She took a deep breath, “And when I finally found you again, I realized that it was our turn to win.”

“But you became a villain.” He chuckled grimly, “Because that’s what people like you do, your happiness has to come at the expense of others and that’s why you could never be happy.”

“But we understood each other.”

“You don’t know me. You never did. You thought you did but you didn’t. You didn’t know it was me you were looking for.” Jonathan stated bluntly, “You had thought you were looking for Cameron, that’s why you framed me for murder.”

“Jonathan-”

“But you know what, I’m glad it was me because if you had done that to Cam... let’s just say that it’s a good thing I knew Kay would get him out soon enough after what I did.”

“But you still left him there. You left your brother in your place, how does that make you any better than me?”

“Well, I can of one thing that makes me... at the very least, one percent better than you.” He leaned in to the window, “I. Am. Not. A. Killer.” Her expression didn’t change but Jonathan could see the anger build in her eyes, “Don’t get me wrong. I know what it feels like to be tempted to be the bad guy especially when it seems like that’s who the whole world wants you to be but... it isn’t something to strive for...” He raised an eyebrow, “It’s something to pity.”

Cornelia scoffed, “You pity me?”

“Yes. I pity you.” He gave her a genuine sympathetic look, “Because you don’t have anyone waiting for you to come home.” His light demeanor vanished. Jonathan’s eyes went dark and his nostrils flared, “But you deserve to be here.” He had to tell her why he truly hated her now, “You... are the reason I never got to see my little sister again. You are the reason she and her husband are dead. You are the reason my baby niece has to grow up without her parents who loved her so damn much!” He spat, “And the only reason, I haven’t done anything to you is because I need to be there for her now. I want to be there for her... and you’re not going to stop me. You took over a year of my life away from me but unlike you... I have something to live for now.” Cornelia didn’t say anything. Jonathan sighed, “Well, I said all I came to say.”

“Where are you going?” She asked softly, almost uncharacteristically as she looked at him again.

“My brother and I have a funeral to plan.” He gave her one last look. For a moment, he didn’t see the beautiful psychopath who ruined his life, he saw the innocent young girl who he met in Reykjavik, he shook his head slightly, she wasn’t that girl he had been friends with back then... not anymore. She made her choices and this is where those choices brought her and she had no one to blame but herself, “Goodbye Cornelia. I do hope... you can understand what you’ve done and maybe... you can redeem yourself.” It was foolish to think she could but he knew taking away someone’s hope was just cruel. He put the phone back in its holder, got up and left.

“Goodbye Jonathan...” Cornelia whispered into her own phone knowing that he was no longer on the line to hear her. She was alone... and she could only blame herself.

When he got back to the archive, he saw everyone combing through Fiona and Shawn’s personal belongings, trying to just organize it all. Cameron was the first to notice his brother’s return, “Hey,” He greeted, “How’d it go?”

Jonathan shook his head, “It was not what I expected...” Jonathan smiled, “But it... it really is over. We can actually move on.” He walked over to his brother and gave him a hug, “She’s out of our lives.”

Cameron hugged his brother tightly, “Welcome home.”

They pulled away from their hug, “Where’s Farrah?”

“Little girly’s helping Jordan with his music.” Gunter said with a smirk as he walked by, going out the door to get some takeout for dinner, “If I’m not back in an hour, it mean that they’ve screwed up our order and I’ve had to teach a lesson.”

Jonathan called out, “Jordan-”

“This is a Disney playlist I’m making for her Johnny, no swearing to be found here!” Jordan called from the other room. Jordan rolled his eyes, “Uncle Johnny’s being kind of the buzzkill now huh?” Farrah giggled as she kicked her legs to the music.

“I heard that Jordan!” Jonathan called back, “The kid learns any curse words before she’s ten, I’m blaming you!”

Kay walked into the room from the kitchen holding an apple in her left hand, it still in the sling, “So I finally found something that wasn’t pudding, candy, coffee or expired.” She looked up and saw Jonathan, she smiled, “Hey, how’d it go?”

Johnny shrugged but smiled, “It’s over. I can actually move on with my life... I can actually have a life.” He headed for the kitchen, “Now what’s this I hear about pudding? Do we have vanilla?”

“I saw chocolate pudding.”

“Even better.”

Kay walked over to Cameron, “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just a little overwhelming. You know if you had told me two weeks ago that all thing would happen... I genuinely would have said that it was impossible.”

“Cameron Black thinking something is impossible?” Kay joked. She noticed how he was just kind of combing through the things, almost as if he didn’t want to finish cleaning it up, “Need some help?”

“Uh, no, it’s fine, besides, your arm-”

“I still have the other one.” She said as she started to organize the books on the table.

Jonathan walked back in with a pudding cup in hand, “How’s the organizing going?”

“Pretty good. We’ve managed to sort out most of the photos and Dina’s gone to get plastic covers for them.” Cameron said.

“What’s with all the notebooks?” Johnny asked motioning to the pile of books that Kay was looking through.

“Sketchbooks, actually. They’re all Fiona’s. She was good...” Her hand fell to a black sketchbook with a silver spiral binding. Something about it seemed familiar so she opened it; she smiled as she flipped through the pages, seeing drawings of fairies, royalty and knights in shining armor, “She seemed to love fairytales.”

Jonathan had put the empty plastic cup aside and started looking through the books, “Here’s a page of where she was just writing down baby names. Man, she had a ton of names in mind for Farrah. Soraya, Regina, Ella, and Alice which is just naming a few... but it’s clear she liked the name Farrah the best.” Kay smiled as she continued flipping through the sketchbook until she flipped a page and pressed between the last page and the current one were two unmarked envelopes. Kay’s eyes widened as it finally clicked in her mind as to why the sketchbook seemed familiar.

Cameron smirked, “How are you so sure?”

Johnny flipped the book around for Cameron and Kay, who wasn’t paying attention, to see, “Well, given the fact that the name is underlined three times, circled twice in red and got little gold stars and pink hearts drawn around it, that’s kind of what tipped me off.”

Cameron chuckled, “Well, the name Farrah does suit her.”

Just then, Kay’s grip the apple she was holding loosened unconsciously and it fell to the floor when she opened up one of the envelopes and saw the words, To Cameron Black written inside the flap. Cameron and Jonathan both turned their heads to Kay who looked shell-shocked, Cameron gave her a concerned look as he picked the apple off the floor, “Kay? What’s wrong?” She didn’t respond for a moment and Cameron gently placed hand on her left shoulder, snapping her out of it, “Kay? Are you okay?”

She looked at Cameron with a look of disbelief in her eyes, “C-Cameron... did I... how long did I flat line when I was in the hospital?”

“You didn’t tell her?” Jonathan asked.

“I-I genuinely forgot to.” Cameron replied, “Just for a few minutes according to the doctor. Kay, why do you ask?”

“These... these letters...” She took a deep breath, still not believing it herself, “Fiona wrote these letters for the both of you but... she was too scared to send them...”

Jonathan furrowed his brows, “Wait, how do you know that?”

Kay let out a breathy chuckle, the look of disbelief still on her face, “She told me.”

...So Kay finally remembers what happened when she was unconscious! The mystery woman or... Cornelia is locked away and the Deception family can finally move on with their lives... or can they? I’m sorry I keep doing that, I’ll stop... eventually. :D

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, I actually enjoyed writing it more than I thought I would!

#deception #deception fanfiction #jonathan black #mystery woman #cameron black #kay daniels #jordan kwon #gunter gustafsen #kaymeron #a bundle of secrets #renewdeception #savedeception #deception abc

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kayluh1915 · 6 years

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My Final Post on Anthony*

*until he gets his shit together

So, as you all may or may not remember, I made A POST after Anthony’s atrocious April Fools day video claiming that I was DONE with Anthony... and I was... but not fully. While I did unsub from his channel (which was long overdue) I still followed him on Instagram and Twitter and actually left my tweet notifications on for him. I also answered SEVERAL other questions about Anthony through my inbox. However, this post is the last time I am mentioning Anthony on this blog as an independent creator.*

This post is nothing more than one big ass critique of Anthony and his content. This is my last shot at trying to reach out to Anthony to make some changes because after this, I’m done.* I WANT him and his channel to succeed so bad that seeing him fail like this and knowing that it’s his fault makes me sick. This post will show you why me and so many others are SO angry and will show you that Anthony knows what he’s doing, but for some reason continues to ignore us while he quietly loses subs and followers by the THOUSANDS monthly in the background. I CARE about Anthony and WANT him to succeed. That’s why I’m making this post. To try and help him (if he’ll listen) and show people that he is MUCH MORE than the content he’s putting out. However, if he doesn’t care, then I can’t care anymore. LAST SHOT!

Feel free to send this link to him through Twitter if you have the balls (cause I sure as hell don’t)! I WANT him to see it.

Buckle up, kiddo’s! It’s a long one!

Anthony’s content changes at the drop of a hat. I’ve honestly seen more consistency out of a fucking camelaian. You CANNOT be inconsistent on YouTube if you hope to succeed. Sure, changing things up once in a while isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but changing every few months just pander to some people is channel suicide. It may get you a couple of extra views at first, but you will lose the audience you already had because you are no longer who they subbed to in the first place.

When he first left S*osh, I think his plan to build an audience was to ride over most of the subs he had from S*osh while also collabing with a few well known solo creators to gain attention from people who didn’t watch S*osh. Not a bad plan to start off with, however he most likely did not gain as many S*osh subs as he thought he was going to, so he panicked and started using the dirtiest tricks in the book to get seen such as clickbait and LOADS of collabs as seen below which was the wrong response. The correct response was just to continue with what YOU wanted to make while also finding a balance with videos WE wanted to see and eventually the subs would have followed because they liked who YOU were... but he did not do this.

After the collab phase (which lasted about three months), I believe he tried to move on with videos he wanted to make which was the videos where he portrays a socially inept character. This within itself IS NOT the issue, it’s HOW he went about it. When creating a character persona separate from yourself, it’s important to let the audience know when you’re the character and when you’re you. You don’t have to come flat out and be like: “Yo, I’m Anthony today guys!” you can easily do this by giving your character a name or by SEPARATING how YOU act and how your CHARACTER acts. It’s just enough context clues for your audience to figure it out. Anthony fails at this. When your audience doesn’t see the character line, they get confused and wonder why the hell you’re acting so foolish. Most don’t get it. It makes the line even more blurry when you market a channel and social media as YOU and instead just use it as another outlet for your character or for promotion of said character. Newcomers have no line to see and it makes it almost impossible for the average viewer to get what you’re doing. You just look like an idiot to them... which most won’t subscribe to.

This is why, I believe, his videos without another popular creator or subject in the title barely breaks 100k which is MUCH lower than he probably anticipated which, again, caused him to panic and go back to clickbait. His titles ARE NOT creative and is using basic psychology to draw people in weather he realises it or not. Using titles like “I’M SORRY!”, “COUPLE GETS THEIR TEST RESULTS!” and “THE REAL REASON WHY I LEFT S*OSH!” makes you wonder. Why is he sorry? What did he do? What test? What test did they take? What’s the real reason? Our brains naturally want to complete things, so the average viewer will click on it because they HAVE TO KNOW by the nature of their brain. In my personal opinion, it is a DISGUSTING tatic of trying to get an audience. If you rely on clickbait, it shows me that you’re either:

A) Uneducated with the YouTube algorithm and don’t know a better way...

Except Anthony DOES know a better way and is well educated about the algorithm. How do I know? Well, in THIS episode of Game Theory, MatPat mentions that he worked with Smosh (AKA: Ian and Anthony) to help them with their audience. He’s also mentioned working with them several other times in other meta theories that he has done. So Anthony:

B) Understands how to properly build an audience and is WELL educated with the algorithm, but instead uses the knowledge to manipulate people into subbing instead of showing them that he is deserving of their sub.

While collabling and clickbait CAN help reach out to more people who would otherwise not see your channel, COMPLETELY relying on it is just PURE LAZINESS. I can understand using those tactics like once a month or further apart, but every other video!? If you want to succeed, you have to maintain a BALANCE between what people want to see and what you want to make. Just flat out relying on the algorithm to build your audience for you isn’t going to get you very far.

As gross as these tricks are, it didn’t boost him too much. He’s gaining in views, but his sub count is unsteady. The appropriate response to this is to continue doing what you were doing but start making subtle changes to help draw a character line and to subtly help the average viewer get your humor by dumbing it down a bit. I personally don’t think his humour is funny. The timing is TOO LONG and there’s no base for his joke which leave many seeking out Google to get the punchline. Dumbing down the humor and finding a balance between your normal humor will help bring in more average viewers. Also finding a balance between manipulative tactics and YOUR OWN content would also be a WONDERFUL response. This will in turn eventually grow your subcount to where you don’t even have to manipulate people into watching your content or subbing to you. My channel is practically dead and even I know that you can’t pull the BS that’s he’s pulling and make money off of it to pay for your fancy house that Gerard Way used to own.

To this very day, his sub count is EXTREMELY unsteady. According to his SOCIAL BLADE, while he is gaining a little subs, he’s losing a lot too. He’ll go for about a week or two gaining anywhere from 50 to 300 new subs a day to losing 100-400 a day for a solid 4-7 days.

It’s not a steady a count that you see with most successful channels. For example, many consider S*osh to be dead now, but their Social Blade tells a TOTALLY different story.

While not that impressive, at least it’s STEADY. They gain an average of 1,500 a day with only one bad day within a two week time span. THEY’RE GROWING... not fast, but still growing.

Between April 29th to May 8th, Anthony gained 1,484 subs, but between May 9th to May 14th, he LOST 1,913 which means that even on his good days, he ends up losing them later on during his bad weeks which isn’t great if you’re hoping to build an audience. He’s not growing... wonder why, guys?

THIS is why we’re angry at Anthony. We KNOW he’s better than riding off of the algorithm. He is a genuinely funny guy when TRIES to be, but all this pandering bull shit is pushing people away from him. He thinks it’s getting more views and subs, but it’s not. In fact, his Twitter and Instagram is FAR worse than his channel.

His TWITTER only had ONE good day in a two week time frame.

His INSTAGRAM is worse, losing an average of 600 a day and 19,000 within a month.

Weather you agree with me or not, numbers don’t lie and it’s CLEAR that he is doing something wrong to be losing so many followers and subs. Also, that “SUPER HILARIOUS” 4/20 JOKE he made the other day on Twitter with who he’s following, yeah he did that on purpose just to make a weed “joke.” It’s equivalent to your 10-year-old brother who just found a YouTube playlist full of MLG meme comps.

Don’t believe me? CHECK IT.

The dates even line up.

He keeps using these minuliptive techniques and won’t even TRY to make regular content and his numbers are suffering for it. For someone who’s obsessed with them, he sure doesn’t seem to want to build them.

Also, this isn’t about me being upset with his content. As long as he’s happy, I don’t care what he makes AS LONG as it lives up to his potential. IT DOESN’T. It doesn’t even come CLOSE to what he’s capable of. He could EASILY be one of the top YouTube channels if he gave a damn and TIRED. He’s not trying, HE’S MANIPULATING and it’s ABSOLUTELY UNACCEPTABLE for someone who once shone brighter than the sun not just to me, but everyone else. This new channel and “Anthony’s” behavior his A MESS and a disaster waiting to happen. You may have your mindless subs who buy your poorly made merchandise fooled, but you don’t have me fooled. If you have ANY hope of wanting to pay for your fancy house, bills, or anything you want, YOU BETTER start making some changes because you ARE GOING TO FALL eventually. You can’t keep running from who you are. Eventually, you will grow tired of trying to be someone you’re not and when you do, the people you tried so hard to please will be gone. You’ve already lost me who’s been nothing but loyal to you and Ian for over four years... who’s next?

I’m FUCKING COMPLETELY DONE!!!!!!!*

#so done #anthony padilla #kayla's ramblings #The Long Ass Anthony Critique #done #this is the last I want to hear about anthony unless a miracle insues #or if he does something with ian #those are the only exceptions

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prime-one-blog · 6 years

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12 Takeaways From Michael Jackson’s Thriller

(DISCLAIMER:This is a bit of a read.If you enjoy reading and music,I think you’ll like this.)

1982 was a year in music where a telephone number could function as a catchy rock song chorus (Tommy Tutone's "867-5309/Jenny"),where continents could get mad love or representation via Billboard-worthy singles (Toto's "Africa" and Men At Work's "Down Under"),and where "the number of the beast" was less a harbinger of earth's impending apocalypse and more a heavy metal masterwork (Iron Maiden's album and song of the same name.) It was a year that announced the arrival and breaking through of two artists that,together with Michael Jackson,would form the trinity of Eighties musical titans (Madonna and Prince,respectively.) As a rapper,it would be shameful if I didn't mention that 1982 was also a year where hip-hop was given a good,hard,from-behind shove into the mainstream courtesy of Grandmaster Flash And The Furious Five's seven-minute long rap treatise of ghetto life that was "The Message" and Afrika Bambaataa And The Soul Sonic Force's Kraftwerk-inspired piece of rap/electro bliss that was "Planet Rock." (The latter song also spawned the freestyle subgenre of electronic music due to its Roland TR-808 generated drum track that became freestyle's default rhythm setting.)

With 1982 having already served up more than a generous helping of killer tunes (enough to make for an extensive and excellent playlist in today's terms),a nice portion of tasty albums (Roxy Music's Avalon,Duran Duran's Rio,and the aforementioned Iron Maiden offering of Number Of The Beast,to name a few),and a few watershed moments for burgeoning styles of music,it was only appropriate that the King Of Pop enter into the arena and throw his hat in the ring.On November 30th of that year,Thriller was released and the album would go on to not only be a monster smash but a game-changer in the music industry.

As a kindergarten-age pup at the time of Thriller's release,I had no awareness or understanding of the significance of that moment in recorded music history.My concerns were not of the transpirations within pop music as they were with having fun with die-cast dinky cars.Fortunately,given that Thriller was a mammoth pop record and there was some adroit promotion of it,it was still scorching hot product nearly two years after its coming-out and,as such,ties into a few of my childhood memories that were made when the buzz about Thriller was at its loudest.After undergoing the lengthy transition from being a young boy who enjoyed looking through his father's collection of 45-rpm vinyl records and playing around with a Casio keyboard to a grown adult that had a fiery passion for music and who immersed himself in the making of it,Thriller became more than just something I listened to for pleasure and entertainment.Having become cognizant of how big Thriller was in terms of sales,production,impact on popular culture,and influence on future music acts,the album was an object of thorough and serious study as it provided me with valuable education on how to make great music.

All that aside,it's mind blowing that three-and-a-half decades have elapsed since Michael Jackson dropped the highest selling album of all-time on the world like a large nuclear warhead.On the anniversary of its release,I offer my twelve takeaways from what I deem to be the GOAT of all albums.

12."BRUUUUUCE!"

Rarely,if ever,does a major-label recording artist or band make an album completely on their own.Looking at the personnel listing of Thriller,Michael Jackson had a small army of talented musicians to help him make the record.Among all of the names were three men whom-along with Jackson-formed an indomitable foursome.There was super-producer Quincy Jones (whom I'll get to later on),British songwriter extraordinaire Rod Temperton,and Bruce Swedien.

The mention of "Bruce Swedien" to your average Joe (or JoAnne) would probably get a "who's that?" in reply.If they ever saw him,they might think Swedien played in the movie Cocoon and did commercials for Quaker Oats and Liberty Medical (diabeetis!) In the music producer community,however,Swedien is something of an engineering O.G.that has probably forgotten more about recording and mixing than most people would ever come to know.When the man speaks,you listen because you might damn well end up learning something that will make you a better producer.But I digress.

Thriller was an ambitious project.Included within its lofty goals was-in Quincy Jones' words-to "save the music industry" and for the album to represent the gold standard of sound and production.With production credentials dating all the way back to Count Freakin' Basie,Swedien's experience and expertise made him the right man for a big job.And,boy,did Swedien ever deliver as the production value on Thriller is quite high.The uptempo tracks on the album have a Sugar Ray Leonard-type punch to them and it's that punch which makes them exciting and exuberant pieces of pop music.There's a clarity of elements in every cut off Thriller and good use of the stereo panorama where Michael Jackson's vocals are almost hugged by the backing instrumentation in a way that isn't suffocating.And something should be said about the convergence of Hollywood and pop music via the creepy and cinematic sound effects on Thriller's titular track.In short,Thriller is a fine example of what a pop record should sound like but rarely,if ever,does nowadays with loudness being prioritized over the preservation of dynamic range or the maintenance of good mixing work. Though the time that Thriller was made and vinyl records still being an absolutely necessary medium of music distribution played a large role in the album's production quality,Swedien's work enabled the record to hold up nicely against those of the future that would be combatants in "the loudness wars." It's pretty safe to say that Thriller might very well not be the album it is or possess the sound that it does without Bruce Swedien's miking and mixing prowess.That said,we should all give him the props that he deserves.

11.Getting sued sucks.But sometimes it isn't always so bad.

I know,it's easy to say when you've never been litigated against.I'm sure that no one in human history that has been made a defendant in a legal matter was overjoyed by the possibility of having to fork over some coin due to some allegation of negligence or infringement.That includes Michael Jackson,who was made subject to a lawsuit by Cameroonian artist Manu Dibango for the use of "mama say,mama sa,ma ma coosa" in "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'."

One can't fault Dibango for filing suit against Jackson.After all,recording artists tend to get anal if one of their contemporaries pilfer or appropriate material that was borne from their creativity without so much as a request for permission of use and pursue legal action in response.Though Jackson had to compensate Dibango with more than just a few Cameroonian francs in an out-of-court settlement,it was more of a gain than a loss.For starters,the moolah that Jackson gave Dibango was a drop in the bucket to the haul that Jackson would eventually receive from sales of Thriller.It was not a bank-breaker for Jackson by any means.If anything,it was an investment into what has to be the best part of "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'." Though there may not be a direct connection between the song's subject matter and the "mama say,mama sa,ma ma coosa" which is repeated several times near the song's ending,it's easy to overlook.This is mainly due to the fact that it's so damn catchy.If the chorus hook with its "yeah,yeah" doesn't embed the song in your grey matter for some time after hearing it,the inclusion of the "Soul Makossa" chant is insurance that it will.It's triumphant,joyous,and it's a stroke of genius that isn't restricted to achieving maximum catchiness to the song.In the something-for-everybody approach that Thriller seemed to take premeditatively,the borrowing of "Soul Makossa" for its opening jam infused a world music flavor-specifically of the West African variety-into a Western pop song and it may also be a young black artist's musical acknowledgement of his mother continent.That said,it was worth every franc that Jackson doled out.

10.Eddie Van Halen was a bowse.

Before 1978,there was no shortage of guitarists that axe enthusiasts could revere or be influenced by.Page,Clapton,Blackmore,Iommi,Hendrix,Richards,Gilmour,and Beck were just a few names within the pantheon of string-plucking deities.Then along came a Dutch guy with a bad ass last name whose incendiary and almost futuristic guitar playing put him atop Olympus.Edward Van Halen was on a whole 'nother level and no one,save for the equally gifted Randy Rhoads (Ozzy Osborne's guitarist),was in the same tier.Sadly,Rhoads' young life was cut short in a March 1982 plane crash and his death left Van Halen alone at the top.Michael Jackson and Quincy Jones needed a guitar solo for the pop-rock combo of "Beat It" and "VH" was the most logical guy to go to first.

Right from the get-go,Van Halen was in bowse mode.He hung up the phone on Quincy Jones assuming that it was a prank call.Then he defied the "no doing anything outside of the band" rule that he and his Van Halen bandmates had by going down to Westlake Studios in L.A. and contributing to "Beat It." Then he set one of the monitor speakers in the studio's control room on fire in the process of laying down a seventeen-bar guitar solo for the ages that he didn't even ask a dime for! However,the bowse didn't stop there.When his Van Halen mates found out about their guitarist's breaking of band rules and told him that he was foolish for doing pro bono work on someone else's project,Eddie fluffed it off and stated that he knew what he was doing and he wouldn't have done it if he didn't want to.

Behind the dazzling and superhuman guitar shredding is a real dude that does whatever the hell he wants and doesn't care.Bowse.

9."The Girl Is Mine" was a significant moment in music history.

Perhaps rightfully so to an extent,"The Girl Is Mine" deserved the flak that it got from music critics.Though not a terrible piece of music,it likely was a wasting of potential that a Paul McCartney-Michael Jackson duet could have otherwise yielded and it does require a suspension of disbelief to listen to (although that potential ended up being better met the following year on McCartney's "Say Say Say.") Two guys fighting over a girl often get violent with each other and don't use words like "doggone" in their exchange (maybe "goddamn" but not "doggone.") Furthermore,if you're going to make a song based upon that concept,it's better to give it the crunchy,heavy,aggressive,and hard-edged sound of "Beat It" than it is to make it an ultra-sugary soft rock number.Nonetheless,it was a hit and probably so because it was aimed squarely at the older crowd,many whom indubitably met ex-Beatle McCartney and his fellow invaders from the British Isles with anything but resistance and rancor.

When you look beyond the saccharine character of "The Girl Is Mine" and examine the whole of the song,the significance of it becomes more visible.Macca and MJ teaming up to do a song was not only significant in that it was a pairing of legends on the same track but that it was a symbolic "coming together" (Beatle pun intended) of two major pieces of twentieth century music history:The British Invasion and Motown.

8.If it wasn't for Peggy Lipton...

Let's first establish who Peggy Lipton is before I proceed.Lipton is an actress who's perhaps best known for serving up coffee and cherry pie as Norma Jennings on the iconic television series Twin Peaks.At the time of Thriller,Lipton was Quincy Jones' wifey-poo and,as such,her lingerie and Hollywood connections would result in her making a contribution to parts of the album.

Yes,Peggy Lipton's intimate wear did indeed contribute to Thriller.Jones noticed that the lingerie said "pretty young things" on them which,in turn,caused a light bulb to appear over his head.His spouse inadvertently gave him at the very least a title to a song that could go on a Michael Jackson album and eventually did with the James Ingram-penned "P.Y.T. (Pretty Young Thing)." Aside from being a bouncy,relatively funky tune that perhaps gave a passing nod to the electro genre that was gaining steam at the time (with its vocoder elements),"P.Y.T." exists as a musical testament to artistic inspiration sometimes coming from the most unlikely or unexpected things.

Probably of more importance than her lingerie being the origin of "P.Y.T." was Lipton's role in having a big-named movie star do a feature on "Thriller." The song was already a danceable number that,at its surface,seemed like a celebration of the scary and horrific but there was something missing:A chilling spoken-word rap that gradually brought the song to its conclusion.Quincy Jones could envision horror-flick legend Vincent Price reciting this rap and Lipton did her part in making that a reality.Nowhere does Lipton's name show up on the Thriller personnel listing or in the songwriting credits but she helped in more than a small capacity,whether she intended to or not.

Speaking of Price...

7.Vincent Price sorta got shafted.

One would think that Price's evil,reverb-drenched laughter at the end of "Thriller" alone would have had the ducats coming into his estate even now never mind the rest of his masterful recitation of Rod Temperton's Edgar Allan Poe-like spoken-word rap.Nope.Michael Jackson and Quincy Jones paid a rather low "price" for Vincent's feature on "Thriller." $1,000 was what it cost to get the horror film star to be at his most creepy over top haunting and ominous pipe organ chords that have "Baroque period" written all over them.Obviously,the one-off deal was great for Jackson because he got a Hollywood icon on his record for cheap.The deal worked the other way around for Price whom,after seeing "Thriller" blow up the way it did,got salty about getting a measly grand for his feature.He attempted to reach out to Jackson with the intentions of appealing for a more generous compensation and was ignored.

On one hand,Price had no right to seek out more money for his cameo on "Thriller." After all,if he wanted a handsome sum of dolla,dolla bills,he could have used his celebrity and legacy to negotiate something with Jackson and Jones that was fair for all parties instead of agreeing to a one-off that would put only ten "benjamins" in his pocket.Price made the regrettable mistake of undervaluing his own talent and,rather than let it be a live-and-learn experience,he wanted to renegotiate a done deal.

However,it's hard to be devoid of sympathy for Price.He put down perhaps the most epic poetry reading ever through his magnificent voice-acting and gave "Thriller" the piece it needed to complete its spooky picture.The fact that neither Jackson or Jones revisited their deal with Price when the song had proven to be a hit and offered him more on the basis of it being the morally right thing to do was something of a douchebag move.It certainly wasn't one of Jackson's or Jones' shining moments,to say the least.

6.It's a good thing that Quincy Jones let one particular demo casette play.

Toto guitarist Steve Lukather,drummer Jeff Porcaro,and keyboardists David Paich and Steve Porcaro were making contributions to Thriller while concurrently working on their own band's 1982 project Toto IV.En route to the recording studio,Steve Porcaro had gone to visit his young daughter that had been living with his "baby mama." After arriving,he'd been informed about his little girl's terrible day at school,one that saw her being pushed off a slide by a boy.When asked by his daughter "why" this boy would do that to her,Porcaro told her that the boy probably liked her and that it was "human nature." In trying to explain to the best of his ability to his emotional young child why a boy could be so mean to her,it inspired Porcaro to later come up with a song called "Human Nature." He recorded a demo of the song on a casette tape.

David Paich was working on some keyboard grooves for Quincy Jones in this time frame.Knowing that Jones' assistant was going to stop by,Paich asked Porcaro-whom was staying at Paich's house-if he could make a casette with what Paich had been working on for Jones.Realizing that they had run out of tapes,Porcaro recorded Paich's material on the A-side of the casette that he had put the "Human Nature" demo on and eventually gave it to Jones' assistant.Jones was listening to Paich's grooves and ended up becoming preoccupied with something in his office,which allowed the A-side to play all the way through and for the auto-reverse feature on Jones' casette player to run the B-side of the tape.Porcaro's demo caught Jones' attention and he asked Porcaro if "Human Nature" could be used on Thriller.After being given the green light from Porcaro,Jones enlisted songwriter John Bettis to replace Porcaro's original lyrics as Jones wasn't too keen on them (save for the "why,why" and "tell them that it's human nature" stuff.) The inclusion of "Human Nature" to Thriller gave a song called "Carousel" the swift boot off the album.Though "Carousel" (later released as a bonus track on a re-issue of Thriller) was a fairly decent track that was so wonderfully early-Eighties in its sound,"Human Nature" was leagues above it.Being my favorite cut off Thriller,there's so much right about "Human Nature." Jackson's vocal delivery is breathy and from a place deep in his soul.The song's lyrics,with its clever metaphors and its underlying meaning,are well-written.The synth melodies are aural candy and sound like they were composed in heaven.All in all,the song is a smooth R&B track that is perfect for something like a night drive in the city.

Quincy Jones was of the belief that a higher power had a hand in making Thriller the successful pop masterpiece that it is."Human Nature" making it on to the album could very well be an attestation that divine forces were at play.Had Jones not been involved in something,he may have stopped the tape after hearing Paich's music and "Human Nature" wouldn't have seen the light of day.Fortunately,things happened the way they did and a little girl's lousy day at school was turned into something great.

5."Billie Jean" was all types of crazy

According to Jackson,Billie Jean was purely a fictitious female that was MJ's composite of all the groupies that he and his Jackson 5 brothers had to deal with.However,according to Jackson's biographer J. Randy Taraborrelli,the song may have been inspired by an obsessed female fan that had taken her obsession with Jackson to great lengths.In 1981 (the year before Thriller),Jackson had been in receipt of a few letters from a chick claiming that he had been a father to one of her twins.In response to her paternity claims and her expressions of love for Jackson and her desire to have a family with him being ignored,she got angry and sent Jackson a parcel containing her photo,another letter,and a gun.In the letter,she instructed Jackson to commit suicide on a certain date and that she would do the same after murdering the baby that Jackson had supposedly impregnated her with.If Taraborrelli's theory was correct that "Billie Jean" derived from something so chilling as to induce goosebumps and cause the tiny hairs on the back of the neck to rise,the song was already crazy in the literal sense by who and what inspired it.

In the process of writing "Billie Jean," Jackson's life could have ended more prematurely than it did with his June 25,2009 death at the age of fifty.Being so absorbed in this song that he was working on,he was completely oblivious that the vehicle he was driving in had a fire going in it and he had to be made aware of the situation by an alert and concerned motorcyclist.Add another layer of crazy to the mix.

Then there was the song itself,which was a smash hit that went deep in the upper deck.Though "Human Nature" is my favorite MJ tune and personal bias could compel me to say that it's the finest work in Jackson's catalog,"Billie Jean" was perhaps Jackson's magnum opus.From a musical standpoint,it had all the necessary ingredients for it to be a high-charting pop joint.The rhythm could implore one to get on the dance floor the very instant that the solo drum break starting "Billie Jean" off sounds.The bassline-a rather simple repetitive eight note sequence-grooves and can lodge itself in the listener's head.The pre-chorus alone is hook-ish never mind the chorus itself,which is hook perfection.There's the gradual introduction of funky synth,punctuated guitar,and dramatic string elements that keep the song interesting.And,yet,for all of the sheer pop goodness that "Billie Jean" offers,it just might be more frightening than "Thriller" because the subject fare of the song is far more real than zombies could ever be."Billie Jean" may well be as much a song about paranoia as it is about what could result from being famous and messing with a girl that has "schemes and plans" behind her feminine wiles.Adding to the stark nature of the song is the conflict that Jackson seems to have within himself.On one hand,he declares with conviction that "Billie Jean is not my lover" and that her "kid is not my son." On the other hand,his vocal delivery when he speaks of looking at a photo of the little boy and realizing "his eyes look like mine" is one of shock,fear,and resignation.It arouses wonderment whether Jackson's repeating of "Billie Jean is not my lover" a number of times late in the song is an emphatic proclamation of his innocence or a convincing of everyone including himself that the truth is really a lie.It all makes "Billie Jean" a crazy good song.

If things weren't crazy enough,the video for "Billie Jean"-deserving of its own exegesis-helped the fledgling MTV to soar into the mainstream.Furthermore,it was also the song to which Jackson-at the Motown 25 television special watched by an estimated 50-million people-created a craze by performing his famed "moonwalk" dance move for the first time."Billie Jean" had every crazy base covered.

4.Thriller was almost as much Quincy Jones' project as it was Michael Jackson's

Michael Jackson is the only name that shows up on the cover of Thriller.And rightfully so,as he is the performer that's front and center on the album.When all the other musicians and producers were finished with their work on the album,it was Jackson that took the songs from out of the studio and brought them to concert venues around the world.However,Thriller could have easily borne both Jackson and Jones' names and it would have been fair.

Jones was in possession of some incredibly keen ears.One could have dropped a nickel on the ground from half a block away and Q would've likely heard it.Jones had an amazing acuity for sound that went to its deepest level.Maybe of greater importance was Jones' encyclopedic knowledge of music.From that,Q's instincts were more often than not trustworthy when it came to chasing down a hit song.He could discern what would make a musical work fly and what could cause it to flop.Michael Jackson wanted to make a killer album and he knew that Q would make the odds of him doing so quite favorable.It likely took no arm-twisting for Jones to get on board with Jackson's vision and become as invested in it as Jackson was.Part of Jones' investment may have been spurred by what he would stand to gain if this album had succeeded in meeting all of its goals:A boatload of money and a larger-than-life addition to his CV.But it's hard not to get the sense that Thriller was a labor of love for Q,one that not only involved a love for good music and the making of such but a love that he felt for the artist with whom he was working.The relationship between Jackson and Jones wasn't solely a professional one,which meant that Jones had a more deeply personal interest in making Thriller a big-time record and giving the young pop singer he had been mentor to with the needed fuel to be a superstar.In so doing,Jones-along with Jackson-had went through approximately 700 demo recordings and only committed what was felt to be the creme de la creme to the album.

It was Jones who,inspired by The Knack's "My Sharona," came up with the idea of having Jackson foray into rock territory and who could visualize Eddie Van Halen performing a guitar solo in the instrumental midbreak of what became "Beat It." It was Jones who felt that a recitation of a spoken-word rap in the outro of "Thriller" was needed and he could hear Vincent Price doing it.And,when the initial finished product of Thriller revealed a falling short of the desired goal for its sound upon play through,it was Jones who rallied the dejected troops to do what needed to be done to correct things with the deadline fast approaching.It was Jones who willingly took on the rigor and exhaustion that came with the production of a highly aspiring album.It's beyond difficult to fathom Thriller being as magical or scintillating without "Q" as its executive producer.

3.Even the non-singles on Thriller were great tunes.

Though it's a given that Thriller is a hit-laden,solid from first-to-last track album,saying that 77.8 percent of its songs were singles really illustrates how insanely good it is.(It bears a resemblance to a greatest hits compilation.) However,the other two cuts-or 22.2 percent-that weren't singles are by no means filler material."Baby Be Mine" is a danceable love tune that seemed to be a continuation of the Off The Wall sound,albeit in a punchy post-disco vein where synthesizers replaced the orchestral element (usually string sections) that was present in scads of disco tunes like Jackson's own "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough." With "Baby Be Mine," Jackson's pre-Thriller fan base were able to enjoy some degree of consistency in Jackson's sound while tweaks were made to it to veer away from disco and warmly embrace the Eighties.Then there's "The Lady Of My Life," a gorgeous love ballad that closes out Thriller.With Jackson's soulful vocals,its heartfelt lyrics,and its warm R&B-meets-smooth jazz character,it might just be the perfect song for a newlywed man to put on and do his bride to.

"Baby Be Mine" and "The Lady Of My Life" could have probably been hits in themselves had they been on someone else's album or not pitted against stiff competition on its own.However,despite being overshadowed by the more behemoth songs on Thriller,these two cuts were sparkling necessities for the whole of the record.

2.There is an irony in Thriller.

If it's not an irony,maybe it's a paradox.If it's neither,I don't know what you would call it.

Prior to Thriller,Michael Jackson-inspired by Tchaikovsky's "Nutcracker" suite-wanted to make a colossal album that was the highest selling of all time and would launch him into the stratosphere of superstardom.And yet,something of a leitmotif is established on Thriller in the subject matter of 3 of the album's nine tracks:Jackson's dealings with the negative aspects of being a pop music luminary.Wasting no time,"Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'"-the lead off track on Thriller-is Jackson's ebullient counterstrike on media and their propensity for sensationalism and gossip.Long before Jackson had faced scrutiny for the lightening of his skin color and the surgical alterations to his face as well as allegations of sexual misconduct toward children,he had an issue with bad press and the spreading of rumors.He likens being a celebrity to being a vegetable that "they"-most likely the media but not limited to-will feed off for their own survival or gain.Then there was "Billie Jean," which I have already addressed in my fifth takeaway from Thriller. "Billie Jean" calls to mind Jackson's earlier celebrity/vegetable analogy from "Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'" (Jackson does mention the name "Billie Jean" on that song) but,on this occasion,the one trying to do the feeding is a girl claiming Jackson's paternity to her young child.Finally,on "Human Nature," Jackson touches on his longing to step out into the city night and walk around like an average person instead of being cooped up in his room and insulated from the world which he was known all over.Part of Thriller in essence was Jackson expressing the discontentment he had with life in the spotlight and letting his listeners know that fame and fortune wasn't all glitz and glamour.However,having been thrust into the spotlight as a young boy and being someone with an artistic soul,the possibility of giving up the life he'd known since his formative years and denying himself further opportunity to be creative wasn't realistic.Perhaps resigning himself to the notion that fame was inescapable,Jackson decided to embrace it to the best of his ability and make himself as huge a star as a human could be.

1.Thriller established why Michael Jackson was (and still is) the King Of Pop

If Jackson's fabulous 1979 effort Off The Wall wasn't his coronation as pop music royalty,Thriller saw the diadem placed atop his jheri curls.Jackson raised the bar so high with Thriller that he made it near impossible for anyone,including himself,to elevate.Though his death forced him to abdicate his throne,he was buried with his crown.

One only needs to reference Thriller to understand why Jackson is pop music's kingly figure.He was his harshest critic and a staunch perfectionist who never rested on his laurels.Though Off The Wall was a critically acclaimed album,he wasn't entirely happy with it.It was like he was constantly nagged by the thought do more,do better.He set huge goals and then pushed himself hard to accomplish them.He had the right people working with him to make his vision a reality.Jackson embodied indefatigable work and relentless drive.

Whereas we might refer to all pop music stars as being "artists," such a description of Jackson wasn't given to be polite but rather because it was befitting.He had such an appreciation for art.As previously mentioned,Jackson's inspiration for Thriller was Tchaikovsky,who had written suites like "The Nutcracker" filled with great music.He had instructed the musicians who had worked with him on Thriller to "think of Michelangelo painting the Sistine Chapel" and to do what they felt was necessary to provide the right "colors" for his songs.Jackson's art was transcendent of the audio medium.The videos for songs from Thriller were iconic as the songs were themselves.

Michael Jackson made pop music that was palatable.Jackson's brand of pop was so much different.It was pop that sounded like pop but yet didn't.Though,like all popular music,Jackson's material had the largest possible listening audience in its crosshairs,it frequently didn't come off as being kitschy and that was especially the case with the cuts off Thriller.Jackson's music reached into the handy-dandy grab bag of tried-and-true musical devices without conveying the impression that it was trying too hard to be a hit pop song.It didn't need to encourage people through chorus hooks to get on the dance floor or shake what their mothers bestowed upon them.People just got on the dance floor.Most importantly,Jackson's pop was staunchly avoidant of placing a best-before date on itself.Though Thriller may be very Eighties in its sound and its premeditation to be humungous (because everything had to be big in the "decade of decadence"),it contained the necessary preservatives to keep itself fresh over a lengthy span of time and there's an awfully high probability that it will never grow stale or become a relic of the period in which it came out.A sizeable quantity of pop music simply isn't in Jackson's league.As such,it doesn't stand out from its ilk but rather sounds like simulacra of it.It tends to be corny and irritating instead of stylish and agreeable.It makes itself easily replaceable by future music that will inevitably use the same recipe from the musical cookbook to whip up something for the Hot 100.

Perhaps the only way that someone can take the King Of Pop distinction away from Michael Jackson is if Jackson's soul is reincarnated in someone else's body.Otherwise,Jackson continues to reign and it's due in large part to Thriller.Happy 35th!

#thriller #michael jackson #1982 #quincy jones #bruce swedien #rod temperton #album #paul mccartney #peggy lipton #vincent price #toto #steve porcaro #david paich #jeff porcaro #steve lukather #eddie van halen #pop #music

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theladyofdeath · 7 years

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Kings and Queens. {Ch 13}

Summary: A Throne of Glass AU inspired by the Breakfast Club (1985). Five students come together for Saturday detention, and realize they are not all that different. You can read previous chapters here.

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy the remaining chapters, as there are only 3 left (and an epilogue) after this! I love writing this story, and it makes me so happy that you all do, too. Let me know what you think. :)

Lysandra

12:15

I hated people for judging me, and yet, I was just as bad as the ones who did.

I couldn’t help my eyes as they continuously glanced at Aelin Galathynius, who was the one person I had hated more than anyone else in that school.

She walked about, her head held high, both sexes constantly wishing they could be nearer to her. She was popular. She was the it girl……and I was the opposite.

It’s not that I craved popularity. The idea of being in the spotlight never appealed all that much to me. It actually terrified me. But, it would have been nice to not have to worry about hateful stares or getting ignored to the point that people didn’t even realize that they ran into me in the hallways.

She was different than I expected her to be. As she told us her story, I couldn’t help but cry. I had been there before, contemplating whether my life was worth it. Every word that came out of her mouth…..It had come from mine once, too.

I hated myself for it……but I was beginning to like Princess Aelin.

Maybe she was not all that bad, after all.

I had judged.

And I was ashamed.

We wouldn’t become best friends, for that was absurd. But maybe we could say hi to one another in the hallways in passing.

After our toast to the future, in which we all clanked together the random plastic bottles of soda and juice we had packed in our lunches, Aedion took out his phone and pulled up a playlist.

Dorian had pulled out a notebook and pen as soft Indie music filled the room, starting on our paper that he insisted he would write himself, and he would share with us once he had finished.

It was fine with me, as writing essays was my biggest enemy.

Gods, I hated school. I just wanted to draw.

Rowan and Aelin had gone off somewhere. I watched as he brushed his fingers along the small of her back, and felt like I was observing something intimate as a soft crimson stained her cheeks when she looked up at him.

“Aelin and I had grown really close after I moved here the Summer before Junior year,” Aedion began as Aelin and Rowan disappeared into the maze of books. “She was the only person I knew when I moved......and she never once mentioned him. But they look at each other….You can tell there’s a long history there.”

“They love each other,” I stated, for it was obvious, as Aedion took my hand and pulled me to my feet.

“What are you doing?” I whispered, glancing around, as he tugged me closer, his hands moving swiftly around the backside of my waist.

“Making up for lost time,” he said into my ear, sending chills down my spine.

“I feel ridiculous,” I mumbled, not bothering to move away.

“Why?”

I didn’t know why, but I made up an excuse as full discomfort coursed through my body. “Maybe it’s because I’m slow dancing in the middle of a library.”

“Some people would consider this normal,” he joked, his arms growing tighter around me.

It didn’t feel normal, though, not to me.

It felt too romantic, too intimate.

It felt too personal.

He must have noticed the way my body tensed because he pulled away, a crease forming in the middle of his brows. “What’s wrong?”

I shook my head as a thousand thoughts and insecurities filled my mind that I couldn’t sort out, that I didn’t even fully understand.

“Lysandra –“

“This is not a good idea.” The words came out in a rush, as if I didn’t want to say them, but it had to be said. “This is a terrible, horrible idea.”

Pain appeared in those bright, turquoise eyes. The eyes that I would have never imagined I would be staring into. “Don’t. Don’t brush this off and ignore it. Don’t –“

“We shouldn’t talk anymore,” I said, as every thought, as every horrible thing anybody had ever said to me rushed into my mind. “We should –“

“Stop.” This time, he cut me off. He wasn’t angry, there was no malice in his eyes, in his posture.

There was only hurt.

Disappointment.

He would have regretted it. He would have regretted it if we were to carry on. He would have regretted it with the first snide comment someone made in his direction, which they would. They would talk. The quarterback of Havilliard High’s football team is giving the time of day to….who? The basket case? The loser? The girl who nobody knew existed?

I was not the kind of person Aedion was meant to end up with.

Yeah. Yeah, he would have regretted it.

“Don’t push,” he whispered, not letting go of my hips. He would have if I asked. I knew that, all I had to do was say the word and he would have respected me.

“You’re making a mistake.”

He watched me, and I caught myself panicking at what he was thinking. But as his eyes searched mine, I realized what he was looking for. Any sign that I was lying, that I didn’t mean what I was saying.

They were, but I couldn’t have him knowing that.

“Let go of me.” The words did not come out confidently, but with soft spoken agony.

He did, just as I knew he would.

I gathered my belongings, and made my way up the stairs, opposite of Aelin and Rowan. It was silent, save for the soft noise of Aedion’s playlist that was traveling through the air, as I sat by the same window I had only hours before, when I did not know that Aedion and my secret internet admirer were the same person.

It was still cloudy outside, the small, crystal flakes still falling in heavy clusters. I longed to be outside in it, feeling the frigid breeze against my porcelain cheeks.

I wanted to cry. I wanted to punch things. I wanted to break glass. I wanted to run back down stairs, into his arms.

I wanted to fade into oblivion out of embarrassment, as what had occurred the previous two hours flooded my brain.

“Fuck,” I mumbled to myself, my face burning as I buried them into my hands.

What would he say to his friends come Monday? Would I be the topic of conversation at their party that night? Would they laugh, calling me a stupid, foolish girl?

Because that’s what I felt like.

A stupid, fucking joke.

I couldn’t believe I let him kiss me, put his hands on me….

I could still feel them as I sat alone, staring out of the window.

We hadn’t finished our conversation in the restroom. He had poured his heart out to me, he had spat out false promises that no man could keep, and I had walked away. It’s the right choice, I convinced myself, over and over and over again. You’re doing the right thing.

I wasn’t convinced, though, not as soft, hesitant footprints approached behind me.

“If you tell me to leave you alone, and never speak to you again, I will.” His voice was delicate, as if he was choosing his words very carefully.

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even look at him. If I did, I would have not been sitting in my chair much longer. I would have been on my feet, pressing my lips against the boy who had said so many kind, beautiful words to me when I needed to hear them most.

So, I sat, and I stared at the fluffy, white blanket that had covered the courtyard.

“Tell me what I can say to make you believe me,” he continued, a soft crack in his masculine voice. “Tell me what I can do to make you give me a chance, and I will do it.”

I didn’t. I wouldn’t. I sat. I stared.

“Lysandra.”

Damn him for saying my name, because when he did, it broke me.

I rose to my feet so quickly that I almost fell over, my eyes already blurred from the hurricane of emotions that were tainting my body. I wanted to yell, but I only said one word, and it came out in nothing more than a whisper. “Why?”

Golden eyebrows rose, his mouth forming a small circle at my question. “Why?”

“Yes, why?” I threw my hands up, incredulously. “Why would you want to be with me? And don’t give me that shit you fed me before. Do you really expect me to believe that you would be okay walking through the hallways, hand in hand, for everybody to see? Do you expect me to believe that you would be okay with thousands of kids, shit, everyone in this town for that matter, knowing that I’m your girlfriend? Do you expect me to believe that you are ready for all the shit that will be thrown at you, hateful words and all? Do you expect –“

“Yes!”

He yelled, as passion and fury dwelled in those beautiful, golden-ringed eyes, in his stature. “Yes, I do expect you to believe those things, Lysandra, because you do! You believe them, and that’s what terrifies you.” He took a deep breath, and rubbed his eyes, then his temples, before releasing. “Listen, I can’t tell you what’s going to happen. I don’t know. I have no idea what people will say, or do, and yes, I am aware how the kids in this school operate. I am aware of my status. I realize that it’s going to be different, for both of us, but I don’t give a fuck, Lysandra. I know you. And you know me. You know I am not the type of person who would just randomly stop talking to you because some people don’t approve of our being together. We can even take it slow, if you want to. Or, as I said before, if you want me to, I will stay away. I won’t talk to you anymore. I won’t try to seek you out………I just want you to be happy. Preferably, I would like to make you happy, but if I can’t…..Well, then I can’t.”

I did know him. I spent the last year talking to him more than talking to anyone else. I knew what he liked, and what he didn’t. I knew what he stood for. I knew what he believed. I knew that his heart was full of only goodness, and kindness, and passion. I knew things that the others didn’t. I knew of his sexuality long before the rumors began traveling through the halls. I knew of his mother, how he took care of her, how she was a drunk, how his father left before he was even born, and how he often tried to contact Aedion, with no luck.

I knew him, this boy. I had dreamt of the day when he would find me, and we would exchange names, and we would fall madly in love. I dreamt of us going to college together, then starting a life as one. And maybe that’s all they would ever be: dreams. Maybe our relationship wouldn’t even last a week, or a month, and maybe we wouldn’t spend years and years together, in love. But if that’s all they ever remained, dreams, without me ever giving them a chance……

Would I have been okay with that?

Would I have been okay with the not knowing? Would I have been okay letting him go? Would I have been okay saying the words that would keep me from him forever?

I had spent my entire life alone. My parents hated me, I had never tried to make friends. I preferred it, because it kept me from getting my heart broken.

But I was tired of it. I was sick of the exclusion. I wanted to live. I wanted to love.

I wanted to know how it felt to be loved.

Online, it was safe. Online, there were people to talk to, but it wasn’t the same. Even with the friends I had made online, standing there with Aedion, kissing him only an hour before…..it was different. It was more. Having him there, looking at him, feeding off his emotions….

No. No, I would have not been okay if I just walked away.

“I’m good at being invisible.” I shrugged, and let him see me. All of me, tears and scars and all. “I don’t know how to be anything but…..invisible.”

He shook his head. “You were never invisible to me.”

Before I could convince myself otherwise, my lips were against his, feeling their warmth, their safety.

I was terrified, but there was no going back.

I was going to live.

And I was going to love Aedion Ashryver, baggage and all.

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