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mor-beck-more-problems · 3 years

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Monsters of the Museum || Dakota and Morgan

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @dakotasgrant & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Dakota and Morgan try to open up to one another. Some things are scarier than glass-cased monstrosities.

CONTAINS: Mentions of alcoholism, parental abuse, death, and car accident

Despite the weird shit that happened when she and Morgan hung out last, Dakota still felt as though she needed to water this seed, because when it came to everyone else in town so far… Well, this was the only one that was growing. She felt a little bad about getting defensive, and she had already planned on apologizing again once she saw Morgan at the museum, but… Well, technically what she’d said had been true. Morgan knew a sensitive detail about Dakota, but she didn’t really know her. And if she was going to take her only friend’s advice when it came to making more friends, then she needed to know more about Morgan first.

The museum had been her own idea, and even as she sat on the steps waiting patiently for her company to arrive, she still thought it would be fun with or without her. In an effort to be a nicer person, though, she did have two coffees set by her side, her hands in her pockets. She hoped Morgan liked hot bean water sans cream and sugar.

Morgan’s nerves prickled like needles as she pulled up to the museum. For all the effort they’d put into their pop up display during the carnival, the actual building was kind of dull looking, like a refurbished old train station no one had ever cared about. She steadied herself, trying to narrate a version of this visit to herself that both didn’t end with more attempted theft, or factual education, and had her leave with her conscience intact. She couldn’t exactly coax Dakota into making a scene while she smashed her way through reclaiming some supernatural artifacts to restore to their rightful communities, like she had with Deirdre. Nothing came to mind, so maybe she would just ignore everything in the museum and focus on the conversation around them. They were here to get to know each other. She didn’t need to worry about corpses being disrespected by being called creations and elaborate hoaxes, or photographs of supernaturals who hadn’t wanted to be seen dismissed, or magic relics categorized as superstition. She would be fine, and the afternoon with Dakota would be a good one.

Morgan finally got out of her Subaru and jogged up to meet her friend. “Hey! It’s a great day to be inside where it’s warm, huh? Let’s go, yeah?” She offered a hand to help Dakota up. “I tried to come up with some kind of random fact like they make you come up with in cheesy ice breakers on the way but--” I was too distracted by knowing how much wrongful nonsense you’re about to fall for in here. “--I just couldn’t. I’ve had some memorable shitty jobs in the past? I used to have an online crystal shop? My cat that’s been with me the longest, Anya, liked to be walked on a leash and harness?” She held open the door for them as they went in. “What I’m trying to say is, I will try to be as much of an open book as possible, okay?” And as long as they kept talking, how hard could that be?

She stepped onto the shiny tile floor and came face to face with half a dozen dull-eyed, incorporeal school children in their uniforms. She squealed, covering her mouth a second too late and jumped back close to Dakota. “Sorry! This place is just--” Haunted. Full to the brim and fucking haunted within an inch of its life. Morgan couldn’t look in any direction without catching sight of at least two spirits hovering near the display cases. Shit, shit, shit. “--so impressive! Like, way more than I thought it would be!”

Dakota was a little bit more excited than she wanted to admit, especially when Morgan showed up. She wasn’t the kind of person she ever thought she’d be friends with -- she was quirky, and weird, and confusing… But she was bright and bubbly and seemed to be this kind of oddly positive, always “chipper” sort of person. Which, as anyone could see, was the complete opposite of herself. But it made her happy to see that even if she was such a cynic, the people around her could still exist in this sort of.. Care-free innocence, it seemed. Of course, that was all her own perception, but she still firmly believed that Morgan did have some sort of sweet innocence to her, whether or not that was actually true. And she was also a firm believer that being friends with someone like Morgan was the closest she’d ever come to being that bright and bubbly and kind and sweet.

“Hey,” she greeted, but within a short amount of time she was bombarded with words. She forgot that Morgan did that, but this time it was slightly more endearing than the last. From a crystal shop to her cat, she did realize that all she was trying to do was tell her that she was going to be as genuine as possible. Whether or not Dakota chose to believe whatever she was about to say for the next few hours was up for discussion, but who would lie about a cat being walked on a harness? “Right, yeah -- Um. I guess I just wanted to know more about who you are as a person, you know?” she began, holding the door for the both of them to shuffle in. “So, let’s start with --” she began, but was quickly shut up by Morgan’s reaction to the museum.

While Dakota was impressed by the tile and artwork, Morgan seemed to have jumped back only a few moments after being inside -- as if she’d just seen a scary bug. This forced Dakota’s brows to knit together, looking at her in pure confusion. “Uh.. Yeah, I guess so..” It’s not that impressive. “I mean, it’s just a museum -- in my opinion. Have you been to the MET? I heard it’s crazy nice in there.”

“Uh…” Morgan winced with genuine embarrassment. “Sorry. I think my bar was just set really low. I mean, stars, they even have headsets! Not that I want one, you can’t really be with someone when you’re doing that.” Another nervous smile. She glared at the school children floating in front of them in a way that she hoped said, get lost. But they only glanced at Dakota with their cataract eyes and floated, dripping, back to the display case they seemed bound to. Morgan side stepped them carefully as she started down the nearest open corridor. “I did go to the MET actually! It’s so incredible, I didn’t even get to see half of it. It was just a few hours, when I took that trip to New York City with my girlfriend. We wanted our second day to be more chill and get back to our room before Times Square got too crowded, so we just walked the parts of the MET together that we could, popped out and found a bakery, and walked to a historical cemetery after. But here was this great collection of Dutch and German renaissance art and some pottery from indigenous tribes from the southwest. You should go, if you ever get the chance. I just, you know, didn’t think it would be this nice or roomy here.” She cleared her throat, hiding the impulse to seize up at the sight of a headless woman drifting up and down the corridor with them, phasing through half the patrons as she did.

“I’m not really sure how to define what kind of person I am,” she admitted, lowering her gaze to gather herself better. “I feel like I’m in a state of flux. I’m afraid you really will just have to play detective on that one.”

In the spirit of trying to make friends, Dakota tried her best to ignore the way Morgan was acting at the moment. If she’d been to the MET, she shouldn’t have been this surprised by the roominess of the museum… But, of course, she had to remind herself of Morgan’s excitability, and simply dismissed the issue. You can’t dismiss everything entirely, though can you? She didn’t want to think about that. The Nordica was weeks ago, and she hadn’t seen anything other than a big open showfloor with a few intrigued patrons wandering. All who seemed normal, all who seemed human, and no sign of anything with horns, so.. Maybe that’s just how Morgan was. Excitable. A little strange. Definitely weird. All true statements, sure, but she was also a friend.

“Everyone’s always in flux, Morgan. That’s sort of what life does to people. So tell me about your stages, and… I guess I’ll tell you mine.” she stated -- not in a malicious or rude manner, because to Dakota, she was just stating facts. If she listed all the changes she’s been through in the last 30 years of her life, she was sure she could come up with a way she was changing even now, approaching 40 in the next three years. Ooh, don’t think about that, either. They started at the Mutated Dog Remains exhibit, which was really just a bunch of old bones reassembled that showed minor mutations, but she had to admit they all looked rather large. The plaque below a particularly strange looking resemblance of a creature that must have died a while ago mentioned the word hellhound, but debunked the term by stating it was an urban legend, a made-up story, folklore.

“I know that you’re a lesbian, and a wiccan, and that you like deathly stuff. I know you had a best friend when you were younger that made you realize you were gay, and I know you have a girlfriend, and I know you’ve been to New York City. I also know that you have a cat. I guess the reason we’re here is because -- I mean, if you want to talk to me about letting people get to know me, least of all Marley Stryder, then I think it’s fair that I get to know the person who’s giving this crazy advice. So what’s the stuff you never tell anybody? Or were your parents like, happy when you were a kid?”

“Well, I flux more or harder than most people,” Morgan said with a low laugh. “And that’s three cats, total. I got Anya in Houston, and my girlfriend and I got Moira together, and we took in Niamh when her owner, a friend of ours, died suddenly late last year.” She couldn’t help but laugh again, shaking her head ruefully now as the suggestion that her parents were happy. “Oh, stars above, no. I mean, we tried. They tried. And we had moments, like most families, and that’s what I try to focus on but…” Another dry laugh. How did you explain, ‘well my mom was magically cursed with true suffering and shared that curse with me when I was born, so!’ “It was really complicated. My mother was…a really hurt woman. She did what she thought was best, but by the time she had me, her perception of ‘best’ had been warped by a lot of fear and bad experiences. She was really accepting of me when I came out, but that didn't really make all the times she dragged me screaming to my room and locked me in for awhile go away, you know?” Morgan winced, wondering if this was already oversharing. “I’m okay now, obviously,” she hastened to say. “I was just raised under some really specific circumstances that are hard for a lot of people to understand.”

“More or harder than most people?” Dakota repeated, trying her best not to sound judgmental. Lord knows she was the last person to judge, but.. It still came somewhat natural to her. Gotta work on that. She listened, though, about the cats -- reading plaque after plaque of random artifacts that didn’t look more or less interesting than what she could find at Pottery Barn. The place was probably filled with hoaxes, but she wasn’t about to comment, because.. God, wasn’t she so tired of being cynical all the time? Despite her overall standoffishness, Dakota really did care about what Morgan had to say. She could relate in a lot of ways to the story she told -- the half truths she was narrating. She’d been locked in her room before, but probably not for too long, because she always found a way out. And the more she thought about it, it was probably because dad was angry, and nobody wanted to be around when he started yelling. He never hit, though. If she loved him for anything other than ABBA, it was because he never hit. But she wasn’t going to tell Morgan any of that. Fucking hypocrite, she thought to herself. Asking this woman to bare her deepest darkest secrets while you can’t even tell her the truth. If there was one good intention of Dakota’s, though, it was that she cared about Morgan, and if she wanted to get any closer than an arm’s length, she’d need to read the footnotes. “Kind of sounds like Sparknotes there, Beck.” she said, tucking her hands into the pockets of the coat she was wearing while they aimlessly strolled the museum. “You don’t have to go any deeper than that if you don’t want. I’m just.. Saying that you can. If that’s what you want.”

“Wow,” Morgan said, laughing unsteadily. “And here I thought I was oversharing.” She shifted a little closer to Dakota, dodging the spectre of a man with burnt, twisted limbs. He glowered at her, condemning her denial of him. “I’m sorry,” she hissed under her breath. And she was. But smashing glass and striking up conversation with the air in a room full of normies wasn’t going to fix anything. “Um, if you pick a number that’s a multiple of three I can give you the Nightline Edition of some quality trauma. We can pull up one of those number generators on my phone if we really want to play with fate.” She laughed at her own bad joke. No one knew better than her that fate didn’t let you play when she’d made up her mind. It had only been, what, fifteen minutes from the banshee scream on her life to the rebar pole skewering her insides? “Last year counts too,” she added. “I’m not trying to be cagey on purpose. Shockingly, I am actually trying not to scare you off by dumping too much all at once.”

She stopped in front of a framed photograph of the Bachman House, now a pile of rubble in the bend. The placard mentioned the number of unusual deaths on the property, with the usual highlights of trampled by own horse, impaled by own farm tools, unlucky trip down stairs, and those were just the ones that could be ruled by accidents. On the other balcony, she could see teeth in glass boxes and a singular framed wing. “Can I ask you something first?” Morgan asked, her eyes settling into an empty middle distance where there was nothing to see, nothing to hide, no problem. “Where do you think all this stuff comes from? The stories, the pain around it all. What do you believe about it?”

“A multiple of three, huh?” Dakota inquired, mainly just to amuse her. If she was going to be friends with Morgan, it was quite obvious that she was going to have to play by her rules -- meaning that she probably would have to settle for the goofiness, or the kindness, or the sunshine and rainbows of it all. Weirdest part about all of that was the fact that Dakota usually scoffed at people who seemed to be full of so much joy. What the fuck was there to be joyful about, ever? You’re born, you live, you work for fifty years or so, and you die. The monotony of life… The mundanity of it all. So what the fuck was Morgan Beck even smiling about, even if she did have a Nightlife Edition highlight reel of her trauma ready to share? Jesus, dude, go to therapy.

Morgan caught her off guard, just a tad, with her next question. Where did she think all of this stuff came from? What does she believe about all of it? Dakota simply shrugged, unsure of how to put her thoughts into words, which was a first. “I.. Guess the bones come from a bunch of different animals. Some of the artifacts have to be mass produced or ordered off, like, Etsy. The pictures and stuff? Well, anyone can go up to a creepy looking house that hasn’t had any tender love and care for a few decades and make up a story.” Dakota paused, bringing her attention back to the Bachman house. “I guess that’s what it is, in a nutshell. People wanting to believe things bad enough. People wanting other people to believe them bad enough. But the key is in making up the story -- because you can’t spell believe without L-I-E.”

Dakota let a lull in the conversation pass, tucking her hands back into her pockets, wandering off from the picture.“I pick 27, by the way. For the multiples thing.” she tossed over her shoulder.

Morgan nodded along. She couldn’t fault Dakota for speaking so callously without knowing how it all tied to Morgan. And there was some kind of awful experience sitting under her stiffness, something that made her mistrust goodness and acceptance. “I’ll give you a two for one special,” she said quietly. “The house in that picture is mine. And everything in that placard is true. I have the documents from the town archives to prove it. And there’s a few more deaths that happened off the property tied to my family. There was a servant girl named Constance who wanted to run away with one of the Bachman daughters, Agnes. They were found out by Agnes’ mother, Hannah Bachman, and the story suddenly went from a desperate romantic getaway to coercion. Constance didn’t have any family or friends to stick up for her, so word of her preying upon the innocent Bachman daughter spread, and she spent about a month living in the woods like an animal until she finally died.” Died because she surrendered her form to power a generational curse, but Morgan didn’t feel like arguing those particulars with a skeptic. “There are some truly horrible, inexplicable things that happen here that are just as real as the morning weather.”

She turned to Dakota, smiling sadly. “When I was twenty-seven, I was supposed to be finishing up my Masters’ in literature. I was living in this nice apartment with some other students and one of them was in my program. And she was so beautiful, and I would’ve done anything for her except say I liked her. One day I’m making sun tea and she pulls me aside about something, how behind on my share of the rent I am, and it’s going okay, but I decide to start opening up about--” The curse. Stupidly, she’d tried to tell her about the curse. “Some of the smaller crises that were going on, and she didn’t believe me and got really upset. And...okay, so the super swore later on that he had replaced all the windows so they were double insulated. This one windowpane had been missed. So when the girl threw one of my plants at the window, the whole thing shattered. I went to pick up the glass and she wanted me to stay away from her, and she pushed me, but because of the glass around her, she also cut herself and slipped and she went backwards just right out the window and fell through what was left of it. We were on the fourth floor, so…” Morgan winced. “Everyone heard us screaming before then, and my standing over the window-- I mean, it was so fast I was too late before I even tried to get close enough to catch her-- it didn’t look good, and they made me re-hash everything we’d been talking about and they didn’t like or believe it either, so I spent the evening answering questions from the authorities, and being yelled at by my roommates, and packing up my stuff. Then came the psych evaluation, which I was too anxious and scared to refuse, and that was pretty scary. And by that time it was eight o’clock or something, so I holed up in a Whataburger for a little bit and then drove around our college town trying to figure out where I was supposed to go next. I got a shitty little Motel 6 place for a few months before I could get leave of absence paperwork going and do depressed 20-something shit until I could start back again with a cohort that didn’t know me.” She thought back on that day, shivering at the memory of the body ragdolled on the gravel, the blood framing her and soaking her hair, the glare of the sun on her empty face… “Sometimes things just happen.” Sometimes they happened because the neutrality of the universe could hurt, and sometimes they happened because you were cursed to carry your great-great grandmother’s crimes on your shoulders.

Dakota had fully intended on continuing to browse the museum, already halfway to the next display whenever Morgan spoke up about the Bachman house. She listened, of course, but part of her didn’t believe a word coming out of her mouth. But she remembered something Erin had said a few weeks ago, something about how she herself had nothing to gain from lying to her, and Dakota couldn’t help but wonder if the same was true for Morgan. What would she have gained by lying to her? What would she get out of a story like that? Unless the woman standing before her was severely mentally ill, suffering from some sort of psychosis or a personality disorder, then what was Morgan getting out of lying about a picture of a house? She stopped in her path, turned back to look at her, and just as she was about to grill her for the evidence, she started talking about grad school.

Morgan shared, and after she’d finished, the exhibit they’d been standing in had been emptied of all people, most of whom had gone on to go see whatever else this place had to offer. Dakota didn’t mean to stare, but she was looking at Morgan for what felt like forever, and suddenly, deciding on whether or not the Bachman story was true wasn’t exactly the most pressing issue anymore. “Jesus Christ,” she murmured, because it was the only thing she really knew to say. She almost wanted to give Morgan a hug, but she wasn’t a touchy person, and she wasn’t even sure if they were close enough for that anyways, so she refrained. “Not sure I can follow that. You win on the trauma stories.”

“It’s not a contest,” Morgan said softly. “Honestly, it’s…” She exhaled slowly. It had been awful, yes. And it had taken her longer than usual to bounce back, to make friends without wanting to run or panic. She didn’t bother telling anyone about the curse at all after that, at least until White Crest. It was the kind of hurt you didn’t think about too much. Besides, there was always another one three years ahead. On and on until the day she died. “I’ve had worse. And it was over ten years ago. I don’t really, you know, think about it that much in the grand scheme of things. I have other, bigger things to worry about.” She did her best to brush it off as no big deal, but in the wake of the confession, she mostly felt bewilderment at her forming any attachments in White Crest at all. “Why don’t you tell me something about yourself, huh? I mean, I know you’ve shared a lot already, and I don’t mind talking more, I just don’t want to take all the air in here, either.” She looked sidelong at Dakota, unsure at how she was really taking all this. Did she think she was making this up? Did she think she was crazy?

Morgan was right. It wasn’t a competition. But if you did compare the two stories -- Dakota’s entire life and then the one incident that happened to Morgan when she was 27 -- Dakota would look like a spoiled goddamned brat. Of course, she could tell her about The Nordica… But she was still in denial about the events that unfolded that night. Erin was the only one she trusted enough to talk about that with because she was the only one she knew that had seen the event take place. She was the only one she really felt safe enough with to talk about the possibility that maybe that thing wasn’t just some rare animal, and maybe it was a monster. Regardless of that, though, it didn’t matter how many times Dakota showed up at Erin’s place to talk about it, because denial was more than just a river in Egypt. Dakota took the opportunity to lean against the railing that blocked museum goers from getting too close to any artifacts that weren’t held behind plexiglass, folded her arms over her chest and let out a little sigh. “I don’t feel like going by multiples of any particular number, so I’m just going to tell you everything, so try to keep up.” Here goes nothing. Or everything.

“I was born and raised in Detroit, but you knew that. It wasn’t the nice part of Detroit because we were really fucking poor. My mom worked at Valentino’s Diner on 8 Mile Road and I never saw her because she was always working -- double shifts, almost every day. I literally remember being a kid and dipping into the drug store to buy her cigarettes and dropping them off on my way home from school. My dad was an alcoholic. I still don’t really know much about him, but I know that he fell asleep in his recliner every night with old ass tv shows on with usually some type of scotch or brandy at his side. One time our house almost burnt down because he blacked out with a lit cigar in his hand -- he must’ve dropped it, because there was a huge cinched patch in our living room that we had to cut out of the carpet.” You’re really going for it, huh? “They fought… A lot. Because mom was doing the double shifts I told you about, and Dad bled their savings dry for booze, and they were always yelling at each other about money. When I was younger I remember asking my mom who “Bill” was. I used to think that we must have just had a lot of thunderstorms because the power kept going out, but really the power just kept getting shut off. Dad referred to her as a “ball and chain” to his buddies, but I think it was the other way around, because my mom was smart. And really fucking brave. And he knew that if he ever hit her, he’d be a dead man, because she wasn’t afraid to fight back. So I know what it’s like to be locked in your room. I didn’t understand then, but I know now that really she was just trying to protect me from seeing things I didn’t need to see, but must’ve forgot that I had ears. When I got older, I started sneaking out of my bedroom window when shit like that happened. Went and rode my bike, that sort of thing. I remember always being so pissed that I never knew what was going on, which is probably why I do what I do. I hate it when nobody knows what’s going on. All that misinformation..” she trailed off. Yeah, you’re one to talk. “Anyways, I was the poor kid with really greasy hair and hand-me-down clothes, and people talked. Kids are fucking assholes. But I took after my mom, because I’m pretty smart, too, and I worked my ass off and got to college. Chris -- my, uh, ex that I told you about -- he followed me. He was going to be a big businessman or whatever the fuck, and really I just wanted the stability, so.. I stayed. For a while. Then I ended up here. And you’d think that the bullshit would’ve stopped, but I know what it feels like to see someone die now, so.. I guess we’re on the same page there.”

“Oh, Dakota…” Morgan pulled her into her arms as best she could. “That’s not something you should have to know. Sorry doesn’t change anything, but… I am. And I don’t--I don’t think it’s too late for you to leave, if that’s what you want. This place is violent. Whatever, whoever you saw die...it’s just a lot more common here than it is in some other places. This place is violent and cruel and you have definitely suffered enough.” From Dakota’s expression, the same could maybe be said for her, but there was too much here. She felt bound to it, or maybe she was just mired and didn’t realize. “I know you’re just starting to find your way, but no one would blame you if you went.”

She pulled back, still touching the woman’s arm, lingering there. “Listen...if you…” Morgan hesitated. Dakota had made herself so vulnerable and Morgan knew exactly what she really wanted to know about her, and who was she to push Dakota to be more vulnerable and open with new people if she couldn’t even try to offer this? “Do you still really want to know what’s...why my body is the way that it is? Because I can tell you, or I can try to. But we should probably find somewhere to sit first.”

Can’t leave yet. “Yeah, but if I skipped town now, who would I cry to about personal shit in the middle of a museum full of hoaxes? Seriously, this is invaluable.” Dakota sounded a bit sarcastic, but she did mean it -- if she were to get the next plane ticket outta this place, she would most definitely be losing one of the only relationships she ever cared about in her life and leaving it behind. Even if White Crest was a cursed place, she’d still feel bad for leaving Morgan.

After she had pulled back from the hug -- which was accepted but not necessarily invited -- something was offered that had piqued her interest. An actual explanation as to why Morgan was the way that Morgan was. At least… Why her blood looked like tar and her skin healed at a superhuman speed. She was ready for the vegan preaching, and now a little more prepared for a cyborg arm than she had been before. If you can see Krampus in a movie theater, I’m sure doctors can create a superhuman arm. “I mean, I’d love to know, but you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” she offered politely, even though she was practically crawling out of her skin with anticipation. “I think there’s a cafe near the entrance, if you wanna..?

Morgan glanced quickly at the cafe area and thought better of it. Too many people. If this went badly, she didn’t want to be the center of a scene. She looked around the gallery and found a relatively empty bench. Well, empty of living people. There was a rather large group of ghost pirates floating around a piece of a ship encased in glass. Morgan made her way toward them, making a face she hoped indicated that she wanted some privacy. The pirates, however, had been dead long enough to not care and just cleared the bench so no one would be sitting through their ghostly bodies.

Morgan shouldered off her jacket and sat very close to Dakota, who she pulled down with her. “So, last April I was kind of in an accident. There was this light malfunction and that caused this huge wreck and it was so fast there was debris everywhere. And I was um…” She winced, remembering. “I was on the sidewalk. I was supposed to go home after work, but I stopped for ice cream with my friend, at this little stand. And it was just some terrible Final Destination bullshit, but my foot was caught and I couldn’t run and then I was on the ground, and there was this…” That pole. That fucking pole of rebar. Morgan had seen it almost every night during those magic nightmares. She couldn’t talk about that, not without knowing how Dakota would take the truth. “It was really bad,” she said. “I don’t know what the best way to explain is, but you can track the….change in my pulse, my heartbeat.” She rolled up her sleeve and held out her wrist. “Will you see? Please?” Her voice trembled with trepidation. Already, she was scrambling to brace herself for the worst; trouble was, she didn’t really know what ‘worst’ looked like yet.

As Morgan ushered them over to a nearby bench, Dakota started to realize that maybe this was a bigger deal than just some blood disorder or bionic arm thing. Whatever it was, she still thought that Morgan would be a friend regardless, because you’re not friends with people just because their bodies function normally. Besides, even if it freaked her out, Morgan was the closest thing to a friend Dakota had ever had -- and she didn’t mean that lightly. Not when she’d grown up the outcast, and not when fitting in always felt like jamming a puzzle piece where it didn’t fit. As far as she was concerned, Morgan could admit she’d committed several murders and partook in some shady drug lord businesses and she’d probably still be her friend.

As they sat, and Morgan spoke about an accident, Dakota just listened. She was good at listening, but it was more of the “getting it” part she hadn’t mastered -- at least...not when it came to people. The accident she’d described seemed horrific enough. Something Dakota prayed to a God she didn’t believe in that would never happen to her. At first, she was confused as to why she needed to feel her pulse, but her voice trembled, and she could tell this was important to her, so.. She gave it a shot, even though she didn’t quite understand. Placing two fingers on her wrist, Dakota searched for her pulse. She tried several different spots, but she didn’t feel a single beat, and her skin was still ice cold. “So… You have a weak pulse? Because of the accident?” she asked.

“You have to hold it for longer than that,” Morgan hissed. “Here.” She took Dakota by the sleeve and pressed her hand over her heart, firmly, where it would’ve been easy for anyone to feel at least a faint impression of a heartbeat. Morgan held it, and held it, and held it. “I’m trying to tell you I don’t have one anymore,” she whispered. “But I’m trying to prove it to you first. You need to understand that this is real.” She drew in a deep breath (In. Hold. Out.) and made sure Dakota felt it. Her chest expanded, the air flowed, but only because she willed it consciously. There was nothing in her that regulated her existence, no internal rhythm to keep up. Her will and her steady feeding were the only things maintaining her existence. “You can try checking on my neck, you can ask me to hold my breath, whatever you feel like you need to do, but I am trying, very hard, to show you the truth.”

Maybe laughing was a knee-jerk response. Actually, she knew exactly why she started to laugh -- because people laugh when they need to project dignity and control during times of stress and anxiety. In situations like this one, right here and right now, when Dakota was confused on all fronts, and anxious because she knew the truth was that Morgan didn’t have a pulse, or a heartbeat, nor was there even the faintest thumb against the palm of her hand through her chest, her response was to laugh. If there was no pulse -- if there was no beat, no rhythm rattling around in her ribcage, then she must have been… She had to be… Dead. Right? People usually laugh in a subconscious attempt to reduce stress and calm down. However, for Dakota, it often works otherwise.

It took a few moments, but she retracted her hand as if recoiling from a hot flame, and stood up immediately. She didn’t know what to say, much less what to do. She could make a break for it and get the hell out of there, but that depended solely on whether or not her legs would move, because they felt made of lead at the moment. She could continue the awkward, anxious laughter that had first bubbled up but has since dissipated to breathing somewhat shallow, quick breaths. Her thoughts raced, so much so that her words wouldn’t come out, and when they finally did, she sputtered. “Am I -- Am I fucking crazy?”

Morgan let Dakota withdraw her hand and grabbed her jacket, started double checking her pockets and bags to make sure she wouldn’t leave anything behind when she made her hasty exit.

“Them’s the breaks,” One of the pirates said. “Head empty as prawns, these humans.”

“Yes, thank you,” Morgan hissed. He was trying to be comforting, but she didn’t want to hear any of it.

She didn’t meet Dakota’s eyes or look in her vicinity as the woman continued to laugh (laugh) deliriously at what she was being shown. “No, you’re not fucking crazy. What’s fucking crazy is having to spend most of my daylight hours pretending to be alive when I’m not. We don’t have to keep doing this. I can go. You can stay and enjoy the--whatever.”

Dakota realized Morgan was moving quickly, like she was ready to flee the scene of a terrible accident. Pun most definitely not intended. She swallowed thickly, trying to think of something to say, but nothing came, not for a few moments that felt like an eternity when Morgan was getting ready to run. “Morgan, wait, I --” she cut herself off, because she didn’t know what she was asking her to wait for. It was like her mind had shutdown, only functioning on the essentials. “I didn’t mean to -- I just -- I don’t -- It’s not possible, which means you’re a -- You’re dead, but that.. You’re...” she was probably sounding like a basket case at this point, and she decided at that moment to stand up a little straighter, brush the hair out of her eyes. “I… I’ve got to go.” And with that, she practically ran to her car, fired up the engine, and got the hell out of there.

“The word you’re looking for is ‘zombie’,” Morgan said, grumbled between Dakota’s desperate stutters for understanding. She was ready to run right there, but Dakota beat her to it, and she had just enough pride not to race her out of this stupid, stupid idea of an afternoon. Slowly, she pulled on her jacket and arranged her hair over the collar just so, and put on her scarf. There was no need to rush anymore and no one curious enough to see her furiously blink back the sting in her eyes and swallow the lump forming in her throat. “Fucking humans, am I right?” She rasped.

The ghosts agreed, but only in silence.

#alcoholism tw #car accident tw #domestic abuse tw #monsters of the museum #wr dakota #wr chatzy #wr dakota chatzy #wickedswriting

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blaizeofglory · 4 years

Text

The Big Trip

In an AU where Peter still has EDITH, but Tony is alive.

"Mr. Parker"

"Yes, EDITH?"

"Are you sure about this trip?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He had never weighted the possibilities, never thought camping could go so... weirdly. But here he was, packing for a trip, grabbing everything he needed. It was almost christmas time. That's the first weird thing. Who goes camping during Christmas time. It was only the 19th, but still, they would be gone for four whole days, coming back a day before Christmas Eve.

"You don't know what will happen. The probability that something will happen is at its highest of 100%. Your Aunt May made a packing list, too. Would you like me to read it off?"

"One last time couldn't hurt." As EDITH started reading everything off, Peter replied with 'Check' and the occasional 'Wait, I need that?' After he had everything and went over the list one last time, he was sure he was ready for this trip.

The car ride to school was filled with 'I'll miss you's and 'Dont have too much fun's. Even if he didn't show it, he didn't like having to sleep so closely next to Flash. Who knew? One night he could wake up on the pond, or worse, in a tree!

As they arrived at school, the clock struck 5 A.M. The crack of dawn had struck and it was showing on everyone's faces. Mr. Harrington was bright eyed and bushy tailed, though. Worry had struck everyones faces when he said,"Now where did I put that map... I always lose that thing..."

The bus left at 6 A.M., but Mr. H wanted to give his normal, hour long," What are we not gonna do? Lose another kid!" And... well, he did. And the bus driver were deciding whether or not to leave without him.

As the students boarded the bus, the bus driver groaned about how they brought open food and such on the bus, yelling,"If you spill anything on this bus, I'll make my wrath worse than the chitauri's when they came to New York."

Flash, of course, decided it was a great opportunity to yell back,"Hey, why are you wearing aviators when it's not even sunny out?"

"Do you want me to come back there?" The old man turned and yelled in reply.

"Alright, kids, settle down. We've got a four hour ride ahead of us and we cant make our nice bus driver already not want to drive us!" Mr. H trembled.

Flash mumbled some thing under his breath, but was too busy looking at Peter's pants to continue, instead saying,"Hey Parker, nice Hello Kitty pants." Peter, of course, found this as a perfect opportunity, too.

"Well at least I'm not wearing a Gabba Gabba shirt." He had peered a few minutes ago through Flash's jacket to see the shirt. Now, he was trying his hardest to cover it up.

"You're gonna pay for that peter..." he mumbled again.

The next four hours were torture, but Ned and Peter survived. As they arrived at their campsite (more like open woods), Mr. Harrington put Peter, Ned, MJ, and Flash on Tent Duty.

While wearing the EDITH glasses, Peter had known exactly how much pressure he was applying to the poles, but didn't realise that as soon as he took the glasses off, he added too much pressure to the tent pole and...

*Snap*

"How did you mess that up Parker? You ought to be lucky. I brought a bunch of extra poles, in case Mr. Harrington broke a few more this year." Flash was right. Last year, Mr. H broke so many poles, it wasn't even funny... well... it WAS funny, but they promised not to laugh.

Peter, making the correct choice, put back on the glasses and let EDITH measure how much pressure he added to the poles once more, but as soon as he started sweating, he took them off once more and...

*Snap*

"Again? Really Parker?"

This happened about two more times before...

"PARKER! I SWEAR, IF YOU BREAK ONE MORE, ILL BREAK YOU" It didn't look like Flash was kidding, either.

This last one, it was perfect. Slid right into the other pole, no problem.

"Well, there's an hour's work." Ned exclaimed, looking at the huge tent that was displayed. Everyone got one per four people. Seeing as only 12 people, teacher included, came along, it didn't seem half bad. Even if Peter had to sleep in the same tent as Flash. MJ and the other 3 girls got a tent, a few stray boys got their tent, Mr. Harrington got his own tent, and Peter, Ned, and Flash got their's.

Mr. H came out of his poorly set up tent, exclaiming,"Bug spray, everyone! Wouldn't want anyone to scar from bites!" He looked slightly worried, but continued on," MJ, come on, let's get you sprayed" As everyone got their bug spray on, Peter stood quietly with Ned, waiting for their turn. Peter knew, in his mind, something bad was going to happen. Lucky, there was a long nearby in case he spontaneously combusted.

"Ned, come on over! No need to stand so far away, you too, Peter!" Mr. H called over to the pair. Ned strutted over while Peter was hesitant.

"OK Ned, you first." Mr. Harrington sprayed the bug spray onto Ned, some flying into Peter's face, making him cough. "Smells bad, I know. Well, dont worry, Pete, it's your turn!" Peter walked over, outstretched his arms and waited. Mr. Harrington shook the container violently as Peter sat there, T-Posing.

"Mr. Harrington?"

"Annnnd... got it! Let's go!" He started spraying the bottle. As soon as the spray hit Peter's arm, his skin turned bright red and hives began to form. "Wha-?" Mr. H started.

"OH MY GOD, HOW EXPIRED IS THAT?" Peter shrieked in pain,"MY GOD, THAT BURNS." He took a leap of faith into the pond, screaming.

After drying off and a call to Aunt May, Peter was all good to keep going. Even with hives on his body, he could still have fun.. even if... he wanted.. to itch... the hives... so... badly... But none the less! He must carry on!

"Well, after that disaster, we have now learned that Mr. Parker here is allergic to bug spray! Maybe we can try and enjoy our lunch. It is..." He looked at his watch,"12:27! We're going to have some walking tacos! Sounds great, right?" Everyone nodded in agreement, as they were starving.

Lunch and the afternoon flew by like a rocket aimed at a bus full of teens on a trip to see landmarks and soon it was time to sleep. Peter and Ned had noticed a small trail of spiders following them, but paid no mind. MJ and Flash however, nothing can get past them.

"What's that, dickwad?" Flash smacked Peter across the head as he pointed towards the spiders.

"Ow.. it's nothing, they probably just like the smell of the bug spray." Peter replied.

"Are you sure?" MJ chimed in.

"Pete said it's fine, so its fine. It's time to go into your tent and sleep. Okay?" Ned jumped in. Both muttered 'okay' and walked towards their tents in shame. As Peter and Ned walked back to their tents, the small army of spiders followed. Although Peter was Spiderman, he was deathly afraid of the things.

Night passed and Peter hadn't slept a bit, with the spiders climbing all over his face, resting like a cat right then and there, and waking up to jump from him, to Ned, to Flash, and then back. Plus he was frozen to the core every few minutes, he would grab a new sweatshirt and bundle up.

Ned woke up to see a tired Peter looking like a huge marshmallow, but a living ice cube.

Morning came and went almost the same as the day before, without the allergic reaction.

Mr. Harrington noticed a hot springs on the opposite side of their camping site and decided that everyone should go swimming! Splendid idea. After everyone got changed into their suit, Peter, although he had a perfect body, felt uncomfortable. As soon as he walked out of his tent, MJ wouldn't stop gasping and staring. They clambered into the springs, yelling for others to get out of the way. All the girls were interested in Petey Boy and all the guys were interested in the girls.

Except for Mr. Harrington, he tried, he really did, to keep his eyes off of Peter, but... who could resist such perfect abs?

The day then went on without a hitch and they all went to bed. But... Flash had other ideas.

He gathered up all of the boys, excluding Ned and Peter, and picked up Peter's blow up bed, sending it off on it's own journey into the pond.

Peter woke up to Ned yelling for Mr. Harrington, saying Peter is missing. At that moment, he was fully awake, and screaming. In fact, this scared him so much that he jumped off the mat and onto a tree.

Which was difficult to explain to Flash.

Who had seen the entire (not really, but he insists that he did) thing.

But, who cares! He's got an extra mattress and all ne needed to do was figure out a way down from this very high, very unstable tree.

The process of getting Peter down from that tree required 4 threats from Mr. H, many concerned students, 2 calls to the fire department (one making the call, the other canceling it) and a partridge in a pear tree.

Mr. Harrington was on his last straw with Peter. One last thing went wrong and they were ending the trip early.

But, the only thing that went wrong was on the last day after everything was packed up and on the bus.

"Okay, guys, since you all have no reason or proof that I can get me fired, I have decided to reward you all! Since we are only having lunch together and you'll be home for dinner, I have brought, drum roll please!" Silence,"Okay.. CANDY CANES!" Peter and Ned exchange 'The Look'.

"Okay, everyone, grab a max of 2!"

"I'll only have one Mr. Harrington, thanks though." Peter said.

"That's fine with me! How about you, Ned?"

"I'll take one, too."

"Great! Okay, guys, let's eat on the bus to save time!"

As everyone got onto the bus, they all started unwrapping their candy canes, except Peter.

He waited until about two hours into the trip to eat his candy cane.

Ned, sitting beside him, told him he should wait until he's home, so he can experiment. But, hey, go with the flow, man.

As Peter put the candy cane in his mouth, it started to burn, worse than the bug spray. He decided that the best option was to stay quiet and silently chew on the candy cane.

That was not the best option.

He started to cough, badly. Peter caught Ned's and Mr. Harrington's attention, who told the bus driver to stop and got up, helping Peter off the bus to spit out the peppermint cane and get water.

After that, everything else was fine.

They got to the school and Aunt May was standing with Tony Stark and a shiny car.

"So! How was your field trip?" Tony asked Peter and Ned as soon as the got into the car.

"It was so awesome!" Replied Peter

"Dude, you had two allergic reactions, had spiders up your arms the whole time, woke up one morning in a tree, broke a tent, and almost went into hibernation. It was not awesome." Ned sourly responded. In the background, you could hear Aunt May snickering.

Thanks for reading! And thanks @becausewhyknotme @agentpeggybarnes @ilovetomatoes3000 @night0seven for the inspiration!

#marvel #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fanfiction #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel cinematic universe

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americasmarauders · 4 years

Text

Get to know me:

I have decided to further expose myself on the internet, because why not? I have picked a couple of questions from this questionaire, feel free to send me an ask with another question I have not answered, I’ll happily reply :)

BASICS:

Name: Luíza (yes, there is a tiny line above the i, and yes that was on purpose. my name has that)

Birthday: October 12th.

Pronouns: she/her

Nationality: Brazilian, baby.

Personality type: INFJ-T

ABOUT MYSELF:

Do you collect anything?: Yes, I do. I collect mugs, pins and Harry Potter books.

Go-to ice cream order: coconut and any other thing. it is mandatory to have coconut on my ice cream order.

Favorite animal: bunnies, but I’m terrified of hurting them so I don’t actually like to hold them. Other animals just freak me out, I’m deathly afraid of them, including dogs and cats. And especially ducks. Don't get me started on ducks. (Ironically, I love ducktales)

Introvert or Extrovert?: I am an introvert, however I can be pretty extroverted when I want to.

Do I study?: Yes, a whole lot. I'm currently getting my degree in applied physics.

Fun fact: I get into really intense arguments with myself over anything really but mostly politics, science and superheroes.

FAVORITES:

Favorite movie or TV show: it really depends. I can't choose favorites at all. So if you count favorites by the amount you've watched something then it'll probably be Tangled, Shazam!, Spiderman: Homecoming. TV shows probably Modern Family and B99.

Favorite song: I don’t have one, put I’ll put a couple here:

the last great american dynasty, taylor swift.

blinding lights, the weeknd.

diamonds are a girl’s best friend, marilyn monroe.

morena (acoustic version), vitor kley.

not a pop song, little mix.

34+35, ariana grande.

Favorite book: just like songs, I can’t pick just one, so here’s a list:

Almost Midnight, Rainbow Rowell.

O Bem Amado, Dias Gomes (this one is a play but still).

Caminhos Cruzados, Érico Veríssimo.

Memórias Póstumas de Brás Cubas, Machado de Assis.

To KIll a Mockingbird, Harper Lee.

Moon over Manifest, Clare Vanderpool.

Harry Potter, J.K. Rowling.

#about me #luiza talks

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xaykwolf · 5 years

Note

Why don’t you spill your Bumbleby Percy Jackson au headcanons. I need help fleshing this out tbh.

Ohhhh man okay so:

Kali tried to teach Blake some of the Greek myths, and that’s where her love of reading comes from (Blake particularly likes to pick up the more...explicit stories when she’s older whups).

“You drool when you sleep” scene verbatim, because in hindsight we all know what that’s about and Yang would be like that™

Riptide’s pen form is one of those pens with a springy topper and that topper is a black cat (you can take this as seriously as you want lol)

Yang as a daughter of Athena is treated somewhat as a joke by some of the campers, because all they see when they look at her is an airheaded blonde

Blake: “Of course I would be in the Poseidon cabin. Alone, as usual. Maybe the gods are sending me a sign.”

Also Blake, being incredibly bi after metting Yang and Adam: “Holy SHIT, is everyone at camp hot???”

Ghira-as-Poseidon would be hilarious, because I can absolutely see him in Bermuda shorts and a Hawaiian shirt

Ilia is either Nico diAngelo or Reyna (*cough*crushing on Blake*cough*), though with her being Nico it would work better simply for the fading-into-the-shadows dilemma of Blood of Olympus as a parallel of her chameleon camo

(Actually the more I think about it, Blake as Percy is literally perfect, considering she canonically has a harem and like...so many characters fall for Percy...)

Ruby isn’t one particular character, but she’s a daughter of Hephestus (because iirc Trials of Apollo made it canon that gods can have kids with same-sex humans and even if it’s not canon you can fite me) and is a forge maniac. Like Leo-levels of ADHD and spends her time being the cabin’s weapon invention gremlin

In the same vein, Weiss is a daughter of Aphrodite, and her singing makes all the Apollo kids jealous

Blackjack is rainbow and is named “Pride” instead because reasons

As soon as she turns of age, Yang gets a motorcycle. Tai Has Concerns™

Yang is still deathly afraid of spiders, but Blake is the first person who doesn’t make fun of her when she finds out

Yang(’s arm) takes the strike meant for Blake that would’ve struck the one place she’s vulnerable on the bridge during the Battle for Olympus

I know we all dislike the idea of redemption-through-death for Adam the way Luke got it, so maybe the “final choice” of the prophecy was a radical rejection of Adam’s gaslighting. Blake choosing to believe in her own sense of what’s right, because letting Adam continue to hold Kronos won’t work out the way he says, it won’t bring the resolution they’ve fought for. And so Adam like...straight up tells her where his weak spot is and tells her she won’t hurt him because he’s arrogant he thinks she’s still wrapped around his finger and he gaslights her one more time. And then she chooses to reject that and stabs him with Yang’s knife. (Sorry the wording’s a little convoluted, my thoughts about it are pretty jumbled atm.)

Yang dislikes Nora for the simple fact that she’s everything Blake isn’t: loud, bright, and her abrasiveness isn’t from a rebellious attitude so much as simple obliviousness. But she also likes Nora because she’s like Blake in that she’s a bit flashy and impulsive (because lbr Blake would be exactly like That™ lol) and has that willingness to throw her whole self at a problem to solve it

Blake losing her memory to be sent to the Roman camp is super angsty because all she can remember is Yang’s name and that’s what drives her every action (also, who would Hera be? I’m trying to think of who to hate about the whole forced-camp-switch situation)

But also Blake isn’t surprised when she’s stuck in the “worst” Fifth Cohort, being an underdog feels like it tracks with the rest of her life that she can’t quite remember

When Yang receives the Mark of Athena she can’t believe it, because it’s the first time in forever that her mom’s even acknowledged her, and she had to do it like that???

“Blake smiled at her—that sarcastic, troublemaker smile that had annoyed her for years but eventually had become endearing. Her golden eyes were as gorgeous as she remembered. Her dark hair was swept to one side, like she’d just come from a walk on the beach. She looked even better than she had six months ago—tanner and taller, leaner and more muscular.” This entire passage. And then Yang judo flips her, a la Annabeth Chase, and threatens that if she ever leaves her again...

Yang has internal trouble asking Blake to drink from the Phlegethon, considering she’s prepared for the sensation of fire, but Blake is a Poseidon kid and oh god is it going to make her feel the opposite of when she’s in the water??? Like, she knows the stories about the river, but ohgodstheynevermentionifawaterdemigoddrinksitwhatifBlakegetshurt?

Just...an incredible emphasis on how they’ll be okay because they’re together

That scene at the Acropolis verbatim, because of course :3

#remedyhunger #Bumbleby Percy Jackson AU #I’ve Got More But This Is All That I Can Think Of ATM #Not That This Isn't Already Long Enough Whups #UGH Now My Wheels Are Spinning #I Need To Go Back And Reread The Series FACK

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grind-pantera · 5 years

Text

Blind Date. [Roger Taylor Oneshot.]

God finally, got it done here it is. Roger’s first date oneshot! WHOOP WHOOP. Reblogs and likes are much appreciated, thank you for reading guys! Can’t Help Falling In Love. [John Deacon.] Delving. [Brian May.]

Title: Blind Date. ( Pun totally intended.) Pairing: BoRhap! Roger Taylor x Reader. Words: ~3k. Rating: T. ( Just you know, Roger being a big flirt as usual. Are we surprised? Tiny bit of language, implied sexy times. ) Summary: Freddie was tired of hearing you complain about being lonely. Freddie was tired about hearing how lonely Roger was. He hatched a plan.

~~~~

Freddie was sitting in front of you, sipping a cup of tea on the couch. There was a comfortable silence around the two of you as you rubbed one of his cats on the head, the small purring against your fingertips causing you to smile widely. They were so content with you. “Maybe I should just get a cat instead of a boyfriend. Guys are too hard, too complex.” You were so lucky to have Freddie as a friend and as an outlet to your ramblings. You had previously been on a kick about how you lacked any sort of intimacy, how you wanted someone in your life like that, yet, Freddie noticed that you were too afraid to even try. He understood that, well… Raising his eyebrows behind his cup of tea, Freddie took one more sip. He understood it to a point. He himself craved another person's body next to him from time to time. The only difference between you and him is that he was willing to go out and find someone to love and shower with affection while you tended to linger behind, only a step over the starting line. “You talk so much about wanting companionship...” He mentioned finally, setting his tea cup back on its little plate before the entire set was rested on his nice, pristine coffee table. “Have you ever considered being set up on a date?”

“If you’ve got someone in mind, I’d be more than willing to try.”

“Are you just saying that so I drop the conversation?” He leaned forward in his seat, smiling to himself as your face dropped. You were caught. Freddie clicked his tongue lightly. “That’s what I thought, darling. Listen, I know a guy---”

“Freddie, I don’t want to be set up. I want to meet someone on my own and fall in love slowly and---”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” He held up a finger at you to get you to stop romanticizing. “This is real life, darling, we need to face facts and get to brass tacks. You are very, very lonely. You’ve resorted to cats. I don’t want to see my best friend become some crazy cat lady who licks their cats clean for fun on a Friday night,” Freddie shook his head in disappointment, “I’ve got a friend who is quite on the same boat as you. Lonely, dare I say somewhat desperate for someone to love,” He chuckled to himself, referring to one of his favorite songs that he had ever written, “Please, give me one of your cute little nods so I can set the two of you up. You’ll love him, I give you my word.”

Your eyes just narrowed at him as you watched Freddie sit up, staying in a somewhat seated position before scuttling his way towards you. Smiling at him for his movement was too good to not laugh at, he plopped himself next to you, grabbing your chin and the top of your head, forcing you to nod. He spoke in a falsetto voice, “Oh yes, Freddie, please set me up! I’m ready to get back out on the dating scene even though I’ve never really been on it!”

You swatted his hands away with a cute chuckle, drawing your bottom lip in and thinking it through. There wasn’t much you were going to lose. If it were one of Freddie’s friends, you were at least going to have a night full of joking and good company, seeing as that’s who he liked to surround himself with. “Fine, but if this one doesn’t work out, you’re never allowed to set me up on a date again.”

“Deal.” He said, bopping his pointer finger against your nose. “I’ll give him a call tonight.”

And that’s how you found yourself standing in front of a pub, a few raindrops hitting the top of your head which prompted you to move under the building covering. It felt like your hands were sweating profusely as you looked to the left and then to the right of you for what felt like the billionth time in the passed two minutes. You weren’t nervous or anything, you thought to yourself, a rather uneasy and awkward snort sound coming from your mouth. In fact, nervous wasn’t even on the spectrum of what you were feeling! Nervous would be putting it very, very lightly, in fact, so light that it felt like you were being floated around carelessly by the knowledge that you were waiting for someone you were going to be going on a date with, if they actually showed up. A blind date, you figured was the technical phrase for what you were about to embark on, and you were more than ready to book it down the street and forget that you even agreed to be here at 7. But Freddie--- He would never let you live it down if you just up and left. Freddie told you that you’d know the person he set you up with right away when they got there which told you they’d most likely be flashy, much like Freddie himself. Freddie tried to make it casual, which you somewhat appreciated but at the same time, you wanted to wring his neck the day that he even suggested that he set you up with someone that he knew. You tilted your head back, shutting your eyes and remembered it vividly, almost cursing silently in your mind that you somehow got persuaded into this.

Footsteps came from the left of you, wet and slamming gently against the ground as they rested under the same covering as you. You didn’t bother opening your eyes to see who it was as you tried to calm yourself down a bit. Taking a deep breath in, you finally urged yourself to roll your eyes open so you could see who had joined you away from the pouring rain. Your eyes widened before you squinted. He was wearing a pinstripe suit jacket, very close and hit the curves of his upper body perfectly, almost giving the illusion that his waist was small and accentuated with a pair of rather tight black pants. Swallowing softly, you admired the way that he was wearing the jacket and not the other way around and it finally dawned upon you that it was black and pink in nature when a car drove by and gave you a proper flash at the color, a black undershirt that was unbuttoned near the top being suitable underneath.

A roll of blond hair came into focus as the streetlamps finally kicked on, blinding you for a split second. Who ever it was, presumably waiting for the rain to let up, looked almost angelic in nature with the way that the light was hitting them. Then, he turned his face towards you seemingly in slow motion. You--- You knew…. With an open mouth, you stepped closer nonchalantly as possibly, stumbling a bit as you bumped into one of the chairs that was by a small table and muttered, “Roger?” You held up your free hand that wasn’t clutching deathly tight to your hand bag to point at him. You knew his face, only having a few brief conversations with him at a few of Freddie’s parties in the past few months. You shamelessly flirted with him given the drunken chance despite a few other people at the party warning you that he was a rather big womanizer. “It’s Roger, right?”

He had perked up at the sound of his name, a smile rolling onto his pretty, pink lips as he finally got close enough to realize who was addressing him, “Oh, god. (Name).” Roger gasped under his breath and held a hand out for you to take. You did just that, lightly letting your grip sink into his large hand for a moment. Roger leaned inwards, giving you the idea that he was going to hug you but you knew better. He did this sort of half side-hug thing with most of his friends, it was a habit at this point. You felt a spark which lingered desperately in your fingertips as he pulled away, “Fancy seeing another one of Fred’s party attendees in a place like this.” His voice was always so, so smooth. You had thought it was just your drunk self thinking that at the parties, but now that you were sober and listening to it, you wanted to dive right in and have him whisper things to you for the rest of your life. “What brings you here on a rainy Friday night? Why aren’t you inside, enjoying yourself?” “Oh, uhm,” You grinned at him bashfully and leaned towards him to whisper almost like it was a dirty secret between the two of you, “I’ve got a date. Figured waiting out here was better so I can spot them right away.” “Ah,” Roger wiggled his eyebrows comically at you and took his sunglasses off despite the sun having already set. It felt like you were diving into an ocean with how blue his eyes were despite the poor lighting outside and his thick eyelashes framed his blue eyes immensely, droplets of water sinking down his forehead from the rain he had just escaped, “who’s the lucky guy?”

“You’re not going to believe this,” You laughed slightly and looked around once again, expecting someone else to show up and sweep you off your feet, “Freddie set me up. I’ve no idea who I’m going out with tonight.”

Cynical. That was the way to describe the smile that took Roger’s face as some tiny bit of realization hit his mind at a painfully slow pace. Odd, the blond thought to himself and leaned towards you to make sure that he had heard your words right. He was there for the same reason. Freddie having set him up on a date with one of his friends. On his part, it didn’t take much persuasion to get Roger to come as the prospect of sex by the end of the night was very high on his priority list. But now-- his face was serious as he realized what Freddie had done. The severity of what Freddie had done. The fact that Freddie was very aware that Roger was undoubtedly attracted to you and was willing to chase after you the next time he saw you at a party. The nerve, Roger thought to himself and lifted a hand and rubbed it against his cheek. Roger was going to have a stern talking with Freddie later as he pleaded lightly to you, “I’m sorry, can you say that again? I didn’t quite hear it over the sound of the rain.” You smiled at him awkwardly, shuffling on your heels as you said a bit louder and clearer, “Freddie set me up on a date. I don’t know who I’m waiting for.”

“He’s set you up on a blind date, yeah?” “Yeah.” You nodded, swallowing hard as you avoided looking at him. There was always something there between you and Roger, whether or not it was subtle or known to the two of you was up in the air. The stolen glances across crowds when you went to Freddie’s parties, the way that you’d somehow gravitate towards him when you were drunk, the way that he leaned in to talk to you, bringing the focus to his pretty mouth by licking his lips, the sound of his voice, like velvet, wrapping around you and coaxing you to flirt in ways you never imagined you’d be good at. And by the end of the night and your last drink, you’d always have an excuse. You were drunk and Roger was good looking in charming schoolboy sort of way. You couldn’t help yourself. But now-- You weren’t drunk, you weren’t at some party and it was time to face reality as you asked him, “What are you doing here? Waiting for the rain to let up? Kind of crazy, it was so clear earlier.” “I’ve got a date.” You froze on spot, letting that sink in before you tilted your head almost robotically. No, there was no way that Freddie would----... “Freddie set me up. Figured I’d take my chances.” Roger shrugged his shoulder and very casually let his arm wrap around your waist. You were frozen once again, but didn’t digress against the sensual way that his hand flattened against the small of your back, right above your ass. “It was worth it, I think.”

Oh, shit.

“I swear on my own life...” Roger said and crossed his heart with his pointer finger. There was a small buzzed haze around the two of you as you were now sharing your last beer with him before forcing yourself to get up and go home. It was nearly midnight, or at least that’s what you thought for you looked at the clock only two minutes ago. Or what seemed like two minutes ago. You had lost all concept of time. You would stay with Roger for the entire night if he asked though. You would stay and chat, you would stay and drink more, you would stay and let Roger graze his fingers along your cheekbone, you would stay and let him get too close before ‘stumbling’ into a kiss. He was seated so closely to you that you could feel the heat he was giving off against your skin and it caused a nice feeling to rest in your chest as you blushed lightly. “I can balance a spoon on my nose perfectly. Who knows,” He grabbed a spoon off the bar, tapping it against the wood rhythmically, “where I got this God given talent or how I figured it out, but here.” Lifting his hand up, he tilted his head back and rested the neck of the spoon on his nose. It tilted sideways to the left and then to the right before finally balancing. “It’s like balancing a book on your head, right?” He spoke in a mumbled tone of voice, his mouth stretched almost comically to maintain the balance.

You threw your head back in laughter, grabbing his thigh for support so you didn’t go falling backwards. Roger tilted his head back, the spoon cluttering to the floor rather delicately as his baby blue eyes looked down at your hand on his thigh. Heat rushed through his entire body, fingers twitching with anticipation as he scooted towards you a bit so he was almost sitting on the edge of his bar stool. Your laugh was pretty, he thought to himself, his mouth agape as your laughter dulled into soft giggles, your praises being more than enough for Roger. “You’re quite talented, I must say. Drums and spoon balancing? I’ve got no ch--” Your eyes widened considerably as he cupped the side of your face, his hand caressing you very tenderly. “No chance…” Uttering that under your breath with your hand still on his thigh. Roger made it well known that you were still holding onto him as well as he clenched his thighs slightly, smiling widely as he leaned towards you.

“Do you uh---” You were panicking, looking to the side for moment and spotting the half drunk beer. “Want the rest of the beer?” Chuckling, Roger just shook his head no, his wonderfully colored blond hair following with that as you looked at his lips when his tongue peeped out to wet them. That action in itself was classic Roger and you didn’t want to have it any other way as your free hand came up to rest against his chest, feeling the bare skin against your fingertips. God, you muttered to yourself in your mind, how easy it would be to slither your hand down and unbutton his shirt and relish in the skin you dreamed about seeing. Whether your hand on his chest was for support or out of some attempt to keep him at a distance, you weren’t sure but he also wasn’t pulling away. Roger was still so close, you could feel his breath fanning over your cheeks and causing more heat to rise against your skin. His damned eyelashes, you thought to yourself and brought the hand from his chest upwards to drag your thumb tenderly under his right eye, feeling the tips of his eyelashes brushing against your fingers. Roger’s mouth opened in a breathless sign before he finally took that extra step, pushing himself off his seat, clutching both sides of your face in his hands and bringing his lips down onto yours.

It was quick, your eyes squeezing shut as his lips found yours after what felt like years of searching. Drawing a breath in through your nose, you cupped the side of his head, tangling your fingers into his silky hair, letting the strands sink in between your digits. “T-that’s a no for the rest of the beer?” “That’s a no, love.” Roger laughed against your lips, peppering the smallest kiss to your mouth before giving a kiss to each side of your lips. “I can tell you, I’d rather,” Another kiss, this one to your chin, “Go back to my flat,” A kiss to your neck was sent your way and you felt his touch flutter towards your shoulder where he rested so he could murmur into your ear, “And kiss you in places that aren’t appropriate for a bar. I’m sure we’d get arrested if I tried to kiss you like that.” He grabbed your shirt, urging you towards him. You were waiting for a pickup line and you were genuinely surprised that it took him this long to finally utter one to you. There was a ditzy smile on Roger’s face as he tugged your shirt ever so slightly, “I just want to kiss your chest, your thighs, your legs…” It was Roger’s turn to put a hand on your thigh, but, it was closer to where you wanted thick fingers most. “And…” He squeezed your thigh, “Somewhere else, if you’ll give me permission…”

You didn’t have it in you to reply verbally to him, merely nodding as Roger’s face was overcome by a cocky smirk that you had to admit was very attractive. The way that his eye lit up, the way that his lips curled around his teeth, showing off his sharp canines--- you wondered vaguely how those would feel biting into your neck and leaving a lovely spread of love bites. He took your hand in his, resting money on the bar for the drinks and tugged you impatiently towards the door. Swooning, you followed him with a bounce in your step. You needed to remember to thank Freddie later.

Tagging: @flyforeverfree @adonais @brianandthemays @attatchment-issues @wine-and-bread @fixedonroger @filmvinyls @p-eaach-es @bucket-of-kittens @honeydeacy @im-just-me-darling @imaginarums @wonderless-screwup @instantezra @rvndyscousegit @queensavedmylife @sleepretreat @dove-turned-destroyer @rogers-wristbands @brianmay-rogertaylor @annistrashbin @that70skiwi

#Roger Taylor #Queen #Bohemian Rhapsody #Roger Taylor x Reader #Roger Taylor Imagine #Emmy Writes #Fanfiction #Fanfic #freddie mercury

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possumon · 4 years

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I wasn’t tagged but it looked like fun to do anyway! Name: Summer

Nickname: Some of my friends used to call me SumSum in high school, but I don’t really have one! I just love any and all terms of endearment! 💕

Zodiac sign: Cancer ♋️

Height: Uhhh like about 5′3″ close to 5′4″

Languages: English. I know the basics of ASL and a smatter of Spanish but I would love to relearn/continue to practice both so I’m more proficient at them. I’m also open to learning other languages as well.

Nationality: American

Favorite Season: This one’s hard because my top 3 seasons are Spring, Summer, and Autumn, and I love all of them equally for their own reasons. But if I had to pick my absolute favorite, it would be Spring.

Favorite Flower: Peonies! Honorable mentions include hydrangeas, sunflowers, and dahlias

Favorite Scent: ANYTHING PEACH! I LOVE PEACH! I mostly just love fruit scents but peach is top tier 🍑

Favorite Color: PINK! I also adore warm colors and pastels

Favorite Animal: All of them! I’ve had a deep love and fascination/appreciation for animals since I was a kid and it’s the reason I’m going to school to become a conservation biologist! If we want to get into some specifics though, my favorite domesticated animal are dogs, while my favorite species of animal are marsupials, especially possums :V

Favorite Fictional Character(s): Pretty much everyone in DMC with Vergil and Dante being the top faves. All Might, Fatgum, and Rumi from My Hero Academia. And I can’t think of any others that immediately jump out at me. I like characters cause they’re either complex, hot, or both. I’m a simple woman lmao

Coffee, Tea, or Hot Chocolate: Mmmm it depends. Sometimes I want coffee, sometimes I want tea, but I usually never want hot chocolate. But I just choose water over anything else. Nothin’ like good ‘ol H2O

Average Sleep hours: It fluctuates but I usually get away with 5-6

Dog or Cat person: I love both!

Number of blankets you sleep with: Just one pretty heavy one but I’ll use two during the winter if I have to.

Dream Trip: GREECE! I don’t know what it is, it could be because I watched Mama Mia a million times, it could be because I read about it in school, but I’ve always wanted to visit Greece. But in all honesty, I would love to visit wherever I can, at least once while I’m on this earth.

Blog Established: Uhhhh 4 years ago maybe? I’ve had a history of deleting and resurecting my blog since I joined this site back in 2012. My DMC side-blog @balladeer-angelo is my newest baby though :>

Number of Followers: 26!

Random Fact: I was in a creative writing class during high school and something I had written was chosen to be in this creative writing anthology that was filled with pieces by students from other schools in the area. I had to read my piece, twice, in front of an audience. The first time was in this small, newly opened pizza restaurant in my neighborhood. The second was downtown at a Powell’s bookstore, but I was incredibly nervous each time since I’m deathly afraid of public speaking. But I think I consider that my crowning achievement as a writer since I never imagined the outlet that I used to express my bottled up emotions would lead to some silly poem about the moon being published. But now I’m either writing for character studies or smut, so we’ve either come a long way or regressed into having just a lizard brain, I can’t tell, I’m having too much fun.

I tag @charqee, @but-two-days-old, and anyone else who would like to do it! 💕

#about me #summer secrets

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all-hail-the-witcher · 5 years

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Portuguese red candle tradition

alright here it is, fizz’s Christmas present this is based on the hallmark movie “the most wonderful time of the year” which is on YouTube and you should all watch it.

______ ship: ralbert genre: idiots warnings: fake trees and mild scream sesh words: 2077 woooweee editing: nope scope rope ______

Albert Dasilva did not like dogs. Ever since his uncle’s dog had tried to bite off his thumb in the third grade he’d been deathly afraid of them. And yet, here he was, running a dog walking business.

But what he hated even more were cats.

They were just inexplicably evil. How was it that virtually every human being on the planet went all uwu whenever they saw a cat? Albert just didn't trust them. They were definitely in charge of the illuminati. Actually, Albert had made a video on that very topic on his youtube channel last year that had over 1.4 million views. It was his biggest accomplishment to date.

But we’re getting off topic here. What’s really important is that Albert hates cats.

So how was it that he found himself walking three of them?

Yes, you read that right. Walking not one, not two, but three whole cats. Through his dog walking business, which annoyed him to no end because it was clearly a dog walking business, not a cat walking business and plus there was the question of who the hell would pay someone to walk their cats? And it was also blizzarding. But he was a broke 24 year old living out of his van and cash was cash so he put himself through the torture of walking three yowling cats.

Finally, 2 whole hours later - which was an hour longer than it took to walk dogs, curse these stupid cats - he was trudging up to the fancy suburban upper middle class house to deposit the ferocious beasts and then go freeze in his van.

The door opened, revealing the semi attractive cat owner himself - he would have been actually attractive had it not been for the fact that he not only owned three cats but also paid Albert to walk them. Oh, he had a name. It was something strange. Tack? Ruce? No. Oh yes, Race.

“My furry babies!” Race squealed as bend down to embrace his cats. Rather anticlimactically, two of them ran right past Race into the house. The third tripped climbing through the front door, giving Race just enough time to scoop him up and pet him. Sorta like Cruella Da Ville. Exept with a cat.

“Thanks for walking them,” Race said, smiling as he shifted the cat to hand Al an envelope with his pay in it.

“Yeah you're welcome,” Al said, accepting the envelope.

“You got someplace warm to stay?” Race asked somewhat awkwardly.

Albert gestured to his van that was parked at the end of the driveway. “You’re looking at it.”

Race’s eyes widened and he nearly dropped his cat. “You live out of a van?”

Albert rolled his eyes, all but ready to throw a fat, wet snowball into Mr. McPrissy’s face. “I do. It’s easier than a house cause I just kinda come and go as I please.”

“You- you what?” Race stuttered. “I can’t believe in a car you're gonna freeze to death. And then whos gonna walk my cats! No one else is dumb enough to do such a job.”

Albert had had just about enough of this asshole and his dumb cats. “Listen. Not all of us are satisfied by being business executives-”

“Nurses.”

“-okay? I’ve been traveling around the country in that van since the night of my high school graduation doing weird things and meeting all sorts of cool people - except you, you're an asshole - and I’ve spent much colder winters than this in Minnesota in that van. I think I’ll be okay.” And with that he began to stomp down the snowy steps back to his van.

“Why don't you stay here tonight?”

Albert froze in his place and turned dramatically to look over his shoulder. “What?”

“I said, why don't you stay here tonight?” Race repeated. His arms were crossed and the wind was blowing his blonde locks into this hard set blue eyes. He definitely looked pretty, er, meant business.

Still, Albert retaliated. What an idiot.

“Did you not hear me? Winters in Minnesota.”

“I heard you,” Race said firmly. “And I’m not asking you to move in with me. Just spend the night someplace warm. I don't want you to get hypothermia, I can tell you from personal experience that it’s not fun.”

Albert sighed. He really wanted to say no, he really did. He didn't want to be anywhere near that weirdo or his cats anytime soon. But the prospect of an actual bed and a warm house was too inviting. Begrudgingly, he trudged back up the steps, uttering a small “thank you” before stepping inside.

And almost throwing up at the accursed sight before him.

“You have a fake silver christmas tree?”

“Doesn’t everyone?” Race said, pulling the door shut behind him.

“No?” Albert stared at his new host in disbelief. “People actually buy real trees. With needles. And sap. You’re not doing Christmas right.”

“How dare you mosey into my house and tell me I’m not doing Christmas right.” Race scoffed, crossing his arms. One of his cats mewed menacingly behind him. Truly it was nice touch.

“Well you’re not!” Albert exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “Look if I’m going to stay here, you’re going to have a real tree.”

Race looked skeptical.

Albert rolled his eyes, mimicking Race’s annoyed stance. “Think of it as a Christmas present. It is just a few days away.”

Race sighed loudly, looking up at the ceiling. “Fine,” he mumbled.

Despite himself, Albert smiled.

“And where might I get a ‘real Christmas tree,’ O Great And Powerful Christmas Tree Lord?”

“At a tree lot,” Albert said. “D u h.”

“Well I’m not exactly an official Christmas tree connoisseur,” Race said, reaching for his coat. “I assume we’re going now?”

“Of course. I refuse to spend one more minute in this house with that - that thing.” Albert said playfully.

“Oh shut up it’s not that bad. My grandmother used to have a pink one,” Race said, grabbing his keys.

Albert shuddered. “Good thing I won’t be meeting her.”

“She’s dead.”

Albert flung open the front door dramatically. “Even better.”

Race groaned loudly as he pulled the door shut and locked it, causing the giant wreath on the front door to fall to the ground with a small oof.

“Race,” Albert said disappointedly, “the wreath is too big.”

“No,” Race countered, picking it up, “the hook is too small.”

“So he a bigger hook.”

“I don’t have one.”

“So buy a smaller wreath.”

“I like this one.”

“You are so difficult I wish I had just slept in my car!”

“Yeah well you’re not exactly pleasant either, coming in here telling me that I’m doing Christmas ‘wrong’!”

“Who buys a fake silver tree?!”

“I do!!”

“It's not even green!”

“So?”

“So-it’s,” Albert began, but stopped suddenly. There was something about the determination set on Race’s face that made him want to kiss the shit out of him.

Albert you son of a bitch. You could have gotten the hots for anyone and you choose the guy who has three cats and a silver Christmas tree?

“Excuse me, Race, sorry to interrupt.”

Albert pulled himself out of his romantic exploits that may or may not have involved him and Race making out under the fake silver tree to see that another man had joined them on the porch, seemingly out of thin air.

“Hi Romeo,” Race said tightly.

“I just happened to notice that you haven’t put up your Christmas lights yet, and you know we’re goin for the whole street this year. Nothing fancy just white lights - only white.” He gave Race a pointed stare. “You don’t wanna be-”

“-the only dark house on Christmas Eve,” Race finished exasperatedly. “I know.”

“So you’ll get on it?” Romeo asked, seemingly oblivious to Race’s disinterest.

“Yes I’ll get on it, now if you’ll excuse me I really have to go run some errands.”

This time, Romeo seemed to get the hint and he scurried off back to his house next door - ah so he was a neighbor, that made more sense.

Albert turned to Race. “Change of plans,” he announced. “You’re getting the tree by yourself.”

Race eyed him skeptically. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to put up your lights. That neighbor sounded pissed.”

Race rolled his eyes. “You’re a dog walker, you’re hardly qualified.”

“And you’re a business executive.”

“Nurse!!”

“Same difference!” Albert groaned. “And besides, I’ve done all sorts of odd jobs, I was a handyman a few years back in Colorado. I know my way around a ladder.”

“Well,” Race saw that there was no way of getting out of this argument, “if you insist.”

“Oh I do insist. And I got a little something special to keep your neighbor away,” Albert winked mischievously.

“Alright, whatever,” Race waved him off. “Just don’t get me sued. And what kind of tree do I buy?”

“A big one, we need a thick stick!” Albert called over his shoulder as he headed over to the garage. With any bit of luck, this plan should work.

•••

By the time Race got back with the tree, Albert had just finished stringing up the lights so he decided to flex on his host - literally and figuratively - by bringing the tree inside and setting it up. The three cats - whom he had learned were named Steve, Peter, and Tony after Race’s favorite Marvel characters -mewed at it suspiciously before going to do their cat related activities, like take over the world.

They had just began to put the ornaments on, laughing and having a grand time singing along to crappy pop Christmas songs, when the doorbell rang.

Race set down the glass ball he was holding and went to answer the door. “I’ll be right back, do not munch that.”

Albert looked at him quizzically.

“I don’t know man, you just seem like the kind of person who would.” Then he left, leaving Albert to question his mental well-being.

However, all of that was abandoned when he heard the shrill voice of Race’s neighbor and he ran to the door to watch his plan unfold.

“Race,” Romeo was saying, “come here I need to show you something.”

Albert watched from the door as Romeo pulled Race out into the lawn and pointed up at the one red bulb he had put in the strand of white lights and couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s red.” Romeo said, holding out his palm. “I brought you a white one, if you want it.”

“No actually,” Albert said, stepping out of the house. “We did that on purpose. See there’s this thing where I come from called the Portuguese Red Candle Tradition - very old and sacred tradition - where you put out one red candle, or light, to keep away the dark spirits. It’s said to bring good luck.”

Romeo stood open mouthed.

“I have one inside if you want it.”

Romeo shook his head.

“Great, well then if you don’t mind Race and I have a tree to finish decorating. Ta ta,” he said, pulling Race inside and shutting the door, hearing the oof of the wreath falling off the door once again.

Race stood with his arms crossed. “There’s no such thing as the Portuguese Red Candle Tradition, is there?”

Albert fidgeted. “No.”

“And you know by putting that one red bulb there you’re going to drive him absolutely nuts right?”

“I had the general idea, yes.”

“And you know that he’s gonna drive me insane about fixing it right?”

“Well-”

“Is that why you do you just waltz into peoples houses and make their lives more difficult?”

“I didn’t do anything I was trying to help!”

“Oh like you were with the tree?”

“Hey, everyone deserves to have a good tree!”

“My tree was perfectly fine!”

“It was made of plastic!”

“Perfectly nice plastic!”

“Yeah well your tree can go to hell!”

“You know who else can go to hell?”

“Lemme guess, me?!”

“Exactly!!”

And then Race’s lips were pressed into his.

Albert had to admit, it wasn’t the most romantic kiss ever, what with the satanic cats mewing in the background and the ugly silver tree in pieces on the floor, but maybe, just maybe, it was a good idea that he didn’t freeze to death in his van that night.

______

we Stan a pair of idiots, happy Christmas fizzy babe I hope I did you a solid

tag list tomorrow

#saphie scribbles #ralbert #racetrack higgins #albert dasilva #hope you like fizz #i worked hard #eeeeee

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randomdcfangirl · 5 years

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50 facts about me

Idk why I'm doing this I thought it'll be fun lol 😂

I have 2 pitbulls

I have a cat

I have a lot of bird's (one inside that's mine and my dad has a whole bird Avery outside)

I live on an island called Bermuda (I live where you vacation)

My birthday is really late (Dec 29)

I'm 5'8¾

I'm really laid-back and chill (my last name is Mello and I'm really mellow lol)

I have 3 siblings (2 older brothers and a younger sister)

I love having siblings tbh (it's like having built-in bodyguards lol)

I love animals

Mulan is my favorite Disney princess

My music taste is all over the damn place lol

I'm a plus size girl (I'm only XL so idk if you count that as plus size)

My favorite video game is COD Ghost

My favorite songs right now are all by Eminem: Deja Vu, Mockingbird, Castle

My favorite show of all time is Bones

Favorite cartoon shows are Avatar Last Airbender, Young Justice and DBZ

Favorite dog breeds are Pitbulls and Yorkies (very different I know but I love all dogs too)

My favorite YouTuber right now is Gromiebear (he's a motovlogger, I like motorcycles)

I have a really dark sense of humor lol (it's not that bad but it's not for the faint of heart)

I believe in God but not the Bible (I'm not apart of any religion)

I hate dresses and skirts (like I said I'm a bigger girl and I don't like chub rub lol)

I'm super shy in person before I get comfortable with you then I'm a crazy weirdo lol

My mom is my best friend

I'm a mixed girl (I'm black and white like a panda)

I have really curly hair

I've been taught from a young age to except people for who they are (I'm proud that my parents taught me that)

I have a few controversial opinions (if you want to hear them ask)

I've always had really good street smarts

I live in kinda a ghetto area in Bermuda (only people from Bermuda will understand: I don't live in Court Street it's not that bad I live by Rangers and that's interesting lol)

I'm not a fan of the beach (surprising cuz I'm an island girl. I don't like the sand or saltwater I do like the pool though)

Movie's I could watch over and over again: Game Plan, Surf's Up, Mulan, The Secret World of Arrietty (probably a lot more I can't think of)

I'm really big on family, me and my family are really close and I love them

I'm probably one of the only girls who doesn't like their hair out (because it's so curly and thick it gets really hot it's just not fun)

I don't like cheesecake

Ride or die type of bitch

Really happy 95% of the time

Most of my friends are guys

I rarely go out (unless it's with my older brother and his girlfriend who I love to death and are my best friends)

I'm pretty easy to make laugh

I'm a night owl (you'll be lucky to see me awake befor 11 a.m. in Bermuda anyway)

I really love YouTube

I didn't fall in love with Jason Todd until I got a Wattpad account and started reading fanfictions

I hate reading anything other than fanfiction

I'm deathly afraid of cockroaches (I fucking hate those things)

I'm really sarcastic

I still play with Barbie dolls and I'm not ashamed lol (I promise I'm over the age of 14)

I love stuffed animals

I've been through a lot of shit in my life and I'd probably be depressed if I didn't have my family to make me laugh and YouTube

I love spicy food

These were just random facts about me, I'm going to bed now because it's really late for me lol 😂

#random #50 facts #idfk #idfk what to tag this #fun i guess lol #bermuda #bermudian #dc comics

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mintiemarmalade · 5 years

Photo

GET TO KNOW ME TAG

Rules: Post a picture of your simself with your traits and answer the questions so your followers can get to know you better!

I was tagged by the lovely @surreysimmer, @racingllama + @storylegacysims! Thank you so much bbs. ♡

I tag @pixeloasis, @simsiecakes + @gottacatchemallsims.

This has literally been sitting in my drafts halfway finished for the past week. Tbh I completely forgot about it until @storylegacysims tagged me this morning. 🙈

Anywhooo, this is my simself. I’ve given her the geek, goofball + foodie traits. (Truthfully, glutton would probably be more accurate but your simself is supposed to be a better, more ideal version of yourself, right?)

Questions below the cut ↴

1. What is your name?

Kayla

2. What is your nickname?

My family calls me Katy / Katy bug, for some reason.

3. Birthday?

June 17, 1994

4. What is your favorite book series?

Harry Potter, duh.

5. Do you believe in aliens or ghosts?

Yes

6. Who is your favorite author?

J.K. Rowling, duh.

7. What is your favorite radio station?

Octane, Pop2K, and PopRocks on Sirius XM.

8. What is your favorite flavor of anything?

Chocolate, banana, or pumpkin.

9. What word would you use often to describe something great or wonderful?

Lovely, wonderful, superb, idk all are viable options.

10. What is your current favorite song?

I honestly don’t even know.

11. What is your favorite word?

TUFT

12. What was the last song you listened to?

Misery Business by Paramore (I have my beloved throwback playlist playing.)

13. What TV show would you recommend for everybody to watch?

Boy Meets World - I firmly believe that the world would be a much better place if everyone had Mr. Feeny as a teacher.

14. What is your favorite movie to watch when you’re feeling down?

Harry Potter or pretty much any Disney / Pixar movie.

15. Do you play video games?

Way too much, if I’m being honest.

16. What is your biggest fear?

Being alone, rejection, socializing, tight / crowded spaces, etc. I’m a big scaredy cat, okay. Leave me alone.

17. What is your best quality, in your opinion?

I’m hilarious. I’m incredibly caring and loyal.

18. What is your worst quality, in your opinion?

My crippling anxiety.

9. Do you like cats or dogs better?

DOGS but cats are nice too.

20. What is your favorite season?

Fall - I sweat less and all the bugs die.

21. Are you in a relationship?

N O P E

22. What is something you miss from your childhood?

Innocence, being naive to how terrible the world actually is.

23. Who is your best friend?

Hannah ♡

24. What is your eye color?

Green

25. What is your hair color?

Auburn

26. Who is someone you love?

My dog

27. Who is someone you trust?

Hannah

28. Who is someone you think about often?

My sims

29. Are you currently excited about/for something?

CHRISTMAS

30. What is your biggest obsession?

The Sims, probably.

31. What was your favorite TV show as a child?

Boy Meets World

32. Who of the opposite gender can you tell anything to, if anyone?

Aaron and Joe, I suppose.

33. Are you superstitious?

Nope

34. Do you have any unusual phobias?

Fun fact, butterflies cause me a lot of anxiety for some reason. Conveniently, I found this out while in a one of those butterfly sanctuaries at the zoo.

35. Do you prefer to be in front of the camera or behind it?

Behind. I’m quite literally the least photogenic person ever.

36. What is your favorite hobby?

Playing video games, eating, sleeping. Do those count?

37. What was the last book you read?

I... actually don’t know?

38. What was the last movie you watched?

Crimes of Grindelwald.....

39. What musical instruments do you play, if any?

I mean, not to brag or anything but I played the recorder in fourth grade~

40. What is your favorite animal?

SLOTHS

41. What are your top 5 favorite Tumblr blogs that you follow?

You can’t make me choose.

42. What superpower do you wish you had?

Teleportation

43. When and where do you feel most at peace?

When I’m with Hannah tbh.

44. What makes you smile?

Making other people smile / laugh.

45. What sports do you play, if any?

Sports hurt.

46. What is your favorite drink?

Sweet tea

47. When was the last time you wrote a hand-written letter or note to somebody?

I have no idea.

48. Are you afraid of heights?

My fear of heights is directly correlated with my probability of falling.

49. What is your biggest pet peeve?

People who are rude to food service / retail employees.

50. Have you ever been to a concert?

Yes

51. Are you vegan/vegetarian?

I could never.

52. When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?

Teacher

53. What fictional world would you like to live in?

Stars Hollow

54. What is something you worry about?

Literally everything.

55. Are you scared of the dark?

Sometimes, it depends.

56. Do you like to sing?

Like to, yes. Am I any good? Not at all.

57. Have you ever skipped school?

Yes

58. What is your favorite place on the planet?

Wherever my friends are.

59. Where would you like to live?

I care less about where exactly and more about having the people I love near me.

60. Do you have any pets?

Yes, one doggo named Neville.

61. Are you more of an early bird or a night owl?

NIGHT OWL

62. Do you like sunrises or sunsets better?

Sunsets

63. Do you know how to drive?

Yes

64. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones?

Earbuds - headphones make my ears feel claustrophobic.

65. Have you ever had braces?

Nope

66. What is your favorite genre of music?

Early to mid 2000′s punk~ I never outgrew my emo phase, sorry mom.

67. Who is your hero?

My mom

68. Do you read comic books?

69. What makes you the most angry?

Seeing those I love get hurt / taken advantage of.

70. Do you prefer to read on an electronic device or with a real book?

I prefer the experience of a real book but I do appreciate the convenience of an electronic device.

71. What is your favorite subject in school?

Psychology

72. Do you have any siblings?

One brother + one sister

73. What was the last thing you bought?

Christmas presents!

74. How tall are you?

5′4

75. Can you cook?

I mean, I can follow a recipe sometimes.

76. What are three things that you love?

My mom, my friends, and my dog.

77. What are three things that you hate?

Tomatoes, socks, and loud noises.

78. Do you have more female friends or more male friends?

Well, I guess more male friends, with a ratio of 2:1. (I only have three friends lol.) Unless we’re also counting internet friends, then the females far outnumber the males.

79. What is your sexual orientation?

Straight

80. Where do you currently live?

Southern Illinois

81. Who was the last person you texted?

Hannah

82. When was the last time you cried?

Probably yesterday over something stupid. I cry a lot lol.

83. Who is your favorite YouTuber?

Jenna Marbles

84. Do you like to take selfies?

Not really, no.

85. What is your favorite app?

DISCORD

86. What is your relationship with your parent(s) like?

Mom - decent. Dad - non-existent.

87. What is your favorite foreign accent?

All of them. Accents are so cute OMG.

88. What is a place that you've never been to, but you want to visit?

Japan

89. What is your favorite number?

90. Can you juggle?

Lol no.

91. Are you religious?

Yes

92. Do you find outer space or the deep ocean to be more interesting?

SPACE

93. Do you consider yourself to be a daredevil?

Not at all

94. Are you allergic to anything?

Deathly allergic to sulfa - the doctors almost killed me when I was a baby.

95. Can you curl your tongue?

Yes

96. Can you wiggle your ears?

Nope

97. How often do you admit that you were wrong about something?

This is complicated because I doubt myself a LOT but I’m also incredibly stubborn.

98. Do you prefer the forest or the beach?

Beach

99. What is your favorite piece of advice that anyone has ever given you?

On the last day of my senior year, my history teacher left us with two words of advice before we departed: 1) never tattoo your face, and 2) don’t give your kids a stupid name. It still makes me laugh whenever I think about it.

100. Are you a good liar?

101. What is your Hogwarts House?

HUFFLEPUFF ♡

102. Do you talk to yourself?

Pfft she and I have full-blown conversations sometimes~

103. Are you an introvert or an extrovert?

More accurately, I would consider myself an ambivert.

104. Do you keep a journal/diary?

I’ve never been able to keep up with one.

105. Do you believe in second chances?

I do, and it kicks me in the ass more often than not.

106. If you found a wallet full of money on the ground, what would you do?

Try to return it.

107. Do you believe that people are capable of change?

Yes, but the person must be willing to change.

108. Are you ticklish?

Yes

109. Have you ever been on a plane?

Once, when I was five.

110. Do you have any piercings?

Nope

111. What fictional character do you wish was real?

CatDog, I have so many questions~

112. Do you have any tattoos?

113. What is the best decision that you've made in your life so far?

To love myself

114. Do you believe in karma?

I don’t know, maybe.

115. Do you wear glasses or contacts?

Glasses - I’ve never worn contacts.

116. Do you want children?

Eventually, yes...

117. Who is the smartest person you know?

Aaron’s a pretty smart dude, I suppose.

118. What is your most embarrassing memory?

My existence in and of itself is embarrassing tbh.

119. Have you ever pulled an all-nighter?

Many, many times. I stay up for 48+ hours sometimes~

120. What color are most of you clothes?

I own a lot of blue apparently.

121. Do you like adventures?

Yes, as long as they don’t involve any strenuous activity.

122. Have you ever been on TV?

Not that I know of.

123. How old are you?

124. What is your favorite movie quote?

I honestly don’t know.

125. Sweet or savory?

SAVORY

#this was so long omg #but FUN #personal #non sims

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archetype-online-blog · 5 years

Text

Archetype’s Great Choose Your Own Villain Adventure

You’ve finally done it — you have written an amazing hero.

She has all of your own best traits: kindness, bravery, stubbornness, cute glasses. You don’t know if you want to be her or marry her. Readers will see themselves in her and dress to match her style. Critics will fear her. And best of all, she is wholly, undeniably, ready carrying the weight of your complex plot.

But now you need to craft your antagonist. And this fellow really needs to measure up.

Don’t worry, though—in this post, we’ll break down some of the many tools you can turn to when creating someone to foil your protagonist’s plans.

Just how bad is bad?

A. An Evil Villain? This villain has no morals, or if she does, she buried them deep down a long time ago. She’ll sacrifice her family, friends, and everyone’s free will for eternal beauty, unlimited power, or world domination. Think the Evil Queen from Snow White or Sauron from Lord of the Rings.

B. A Disgruntled Opponent? This villain's had a lifelong streak of bad luck. His parents were killed by someone eerily similar to the hero, global warming flooded his lair last week, and the hero spilled coffee on his pants while saving a cat from a tree this morning. Really, all he wants is a nap—if he has to chain up a few good guys for some peace and quiet, it’s no more than he deserves. Think Luke Castellan from the Percy Jackson series.

C. A Good Person with Questionable Goals? Rational people presented with the same situation won’t always agree, because at the end of the day all people, even equally good people, have different values and morals. If your hero wants to flip the switch and save five people on the train track but your antagonist doesn’t think the one man on the other side should die, you’re probably going for this dynamic. This is Captain America: Civil War through and through.

Just how serious are they?

A. Funny and exaggerated? A villain like this is there to put a wrench in your hero’s plans (and probably provide lots of comic relief), but not seriously threaten anyone with bodily harm. They may think they’re irredeemable and say they couldn’t care less about another person, but they’re either confused or wildly incompetent. Think about it: nobody believes Dr. Doofenshmirtz is going to do anything more than mildly inconvenience them.

B. Menacing and exaggerated? Your villain shoots lasers out of their eyes. Their knuckles are embedded with knives. One whiff of their breath causes paralysis. One word from their mouth has civilians leaping off cliffs. They wear only black, and their evil lair says “Evil Lair” on the front door. They also probably have a lot of henchpeople. Basically, everything about them screams Bad Guy, to the point where it’s definitely not realistic. A good example is Gru from Despicable Me.

C. Spookily realistic to the point of goosebumps? The world is a scary place, and sometimes it’s important to represent that in your work. Antagonists can be made all the worse by the fact that they’re just regular people doing reprehensible, unforgivable things. Think Frollo in Hunchback of Notre Dame or Mother Gothel in Tangled—attempted sexual assault and child abuse are no joke.

Was your antagonist …

A. Brought into being because of the actions of your hero? Some villains might have been a cashier down at the 7-Eleven if it wasn’t for that chance encounter with your hero all those years ago. Now, though, they’ve sworn to get revenge for their slighted pride—stupid heroes and their ego, right? Buddy Pine, AKA Syndrome from The Incredibles, is a great example of this.

B. Morally transformed by a dramatic life event? Sometimes good people do bad things when they’re under a lot of stress, especially if they’ve been traumatized. Have they been forced to make an impossible choice with consequences that haunt them? Tortured because they were good? Watched their family die? Depending on who you ask, the Punisher falls into this category.

C. Doing the wrong thing for the right reasons? Sure, your antagonist stole the diamonds and fired a warning shot at the reception outside the gala, but the real baddie is holding her wife hostage at home. Your hero would have done the same thing—right? Think the origin story of the Hook-Handed Man from A Series of Unfortunate Events, or Killmonger from Black Panther.

On a related note, does your antagonist …

A. Have a history with your hero? In many cases, the protagonist and the antagonist go way back. Maybe they were once friends (this has tons of potential—do they know each other’s weaknesses? Have certain pet peeves they’ve sworn never to exploit?), or maybe they’ve just fought about this issue many times before. Have they dated? Were their parents friends? Think Catra from Netflix’s She-Ra reboot.

B. Fear your hero’s reputation? This antagonist knows your hero is coming, and as much as he tries to deny it, he knows he’s not ready. Maybe there’s a prophecy. Maybe the hero just has a really good PR team. Either way, the villain is going to try to shoot first—and if he misses, he probably won’t get another chance. Voldemort.

C. Have no interest in your hero whatsoever — the hero wants to stop them, but they don’t think the hero is a threat. There’s always a chance, though, that your villain doesn’t even think your hero is worth the time of day. Maybe they’ve heard of him, maybe they haven’t—what does it matter when they’re not going to be stopped either way? This villain feels toward your hero what Irene Adler feels toward Sherlock Holmes—totally unbothered, and maybe occasionally amused.

Other fun questions to ask:

Do they have a sidekick? Why does that sidekick serve them?

Do they have an accent? Is it real or for effect?

Do they have powers? Do they wish they did?

Do they have a color scheme?

Does something dramatic happen every time they come into the room (lightning strikes, mirrors crack, a woman screams, etc.)

If left in the room with a wailing baby, how would they handle it?

If left in the room with a barking dog, would they handle that differently?

What are they afraid of?

Things to be cautious of:

Excusing appalling behavior via redemption.

Some things are just inexcusable—or at least, they should be, if we don’t want to contribute to the negative energy out there in the world. So ask yourself … has your antagonist beaten their wife? Sexually abused someone? Harmed children? Acted extremely racist? Gleefully supported fascism? Brutally killed their own father in cold blood?

If you answered yes to any of these questions, think really carefully before planning a redemption arc.

If you want your villain to turn to the good side by the end, they can still do villainous things. They can lie, they can betray those who are close to them, they can plot world domination, they can even kill. But there are lines you probably can’t let them cross if you don’t want them to be hated by your other characters for all eternity. Let’s put it this way—Aladdin, whose worst crime is stealing bread, is redeemable. Loki, who was supposedly being mind-controlled during the first Avengers film, is questionable. Hannibal Lecter, who eats people, is a lost cause.

A really, really phenomenal example of a villain doing sometimes-okay things and yet not being excused for his misdeeds is Count Olaf from A Series of Unfortunate Events—both the books and the Netflix series. There are genuine, emotional reasons he’s a terrible person, and he even does halfway decent things every once in a while. And yet, he’s not forgiven by the characters or the narrative, and he’s treated as the villain he is until the bitter end. Actually, A Series of Unfortunate Events is great at this all around:

Charles: You have to understand, he had a very terrible childhood. Klaus: I understand. I’m having a very terrible childhood right now.

A less great example is Severus Snape from Harry Potter. When it’s revealed that he loved Lily and occasionally didn’t have it out for Harry by the very end of Deathly Hallows, it’s like the narrative wants us to forget about his bullying, bigotry, attempted genocide, child abuse, pet-murdering, deception, and every other foul thing he gets up to for thousands of pages.

Queer coding. There’s this thing Disney does that you might be familiar with. Let’s pick a few examples and see if you can pinpoint it.

Simba vs. Scar

Hercules vs. Hades

John Smith vs. Governor Ratcliffe

Ariel vs. Ursula

That’s right—male villains tend to be more effeminate and delicate than their tough heroic counterparts, and female villains are hell-bent on corrupting sweet, innocent princesses. Even if the characters themselves aren’t meant to be read as gay—even if they don’t appear gay at all, aside from the coded traits—there’s a history of this being used to reinforce negative stereotypes.

That’s not to say that you can’t have gay villains—make everyone LGBT+, if you want. Goodness knows there are enough straight characters out there to last several lifetimes. But if only the villains are gay, and all the heroes are straight, you’re getting into the dangerous territory of suggesting that the traits that villains have are traits that only gay people have, and vice versa.

The same thing applies to race—if all your antagonists are black or Asian or Jewish or Romani and all your heroes are white, what does that say about how your readers should view good and evil? And if all your villains are disabled or mentally ill and your heroes are able-bodied, might you end up spreading the wrong message?

Writing diverse stories is amazing and so, so worth it! But it’s definitely going to take extra sensitivity and care—so make sure you’re fully committed, or you risk doing more harm than good in the end.

Questions? Concerns? Send us your thoughts at [email protected] or leave us a comment!

#archetypeonline #genre fiction #blog post #antagonists #short stories #young writers #science fiction #fantasy #bad guys #character development

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theglowworm2008 · 6 years

Text

57 Facts Tag

I was tagged by @alienshootlove (I hope I can think of that many facts about myself. Lol.) Thank you for tagging me. :D

Rules: Post 57 facts about yourself and tag at least ten people. When posting include the tag “57 facts” in order for people to find out more about you and perhaps find a kindred spirit to talk to. :)

1.) I just turned 30 years old.

2.) I’m a mother of four, three boys and a girl, all under the age of ten.

3.) I’ve never been married and I’m not sure if I’m ever going to.

4.) I have a serious distrust complex about people, but I act really nice anyway.

5.) I curse like a sailor as much as possible when my kids are finally out of ear shot. Lol. I miss swearing so fucking much!

6.) My favorite food is sushi (Mostly because it’s expensive and I can’t have it all the time) and Chipolte rice bowls.

7.) When I can drink, I always go for a dark beer. I love it! I can’t deal with fruity, girly drinks.. like, at all.

8.) I have a fiance who I love/hate all the time. Secretly, though? I love that we argue as much as we get along. Arguing is honesty, and honesty is HUGE for me.

9.) I lost my virginity at 16. And duuuuuude... guys take forever to get good at sex. I didn’t get an orgasm from a guy until... I don’t know.. my early twenties? Lol. Just a note, watching porn doth not a sex god make, mkay?

10.) I’ve always had guy friends; I was into video games and playing sports and girls my age were into... not that stuff. Plus.. girls are fucking mean, lol.

11.) My best friends are also family members. I don’t really trust people and I just never clicked with anyone that way. My two best guy friends growing up.. one turned into a douche drug addict that was in and out of jail and the other, his wife was the jealous type and so we stopped talking. And then having kids.. well, you pretty much lose any friendships you have that existed once you have kids.

12.) I have too many favorite books, lol, but one series that I’ll never get bored rereading is The Sevenwaters Trilogy by Juliet Marillier.

13.) Growing up, I never lived in any home longer than a couple of years. Now, I hate sitting still too long. I don’t know if I’ll ever buy a house.

14.) I have never stuck myself into anything for long. As a kid, I tried out a lot of the stereotypes. Music, I have songs I like out of all of them. Religion, I like hearing all kinds of ideas and theories, but don’t like being stuck in one. Etc, etc.

15.) I’m insecure about myself (But who the hell isn’t, honestly?)

16.) My fiance calls me “The Ball Buster” because I am sarcastic and playfully fling insults at him when his ego gets too big for my liking. Lol. He says it’s how he fell for me. <3

17.) I used to be a correctional officer and I liked it, but kids and that profession really don’t go together. All U.S. jobs are insanely unsupportive of family vs jobs.

18.) I got pregnant at 19 and, having no resources, I had to give up on college.

19.) I still struggle with “what will I be when I grow up”.

20.) I have been homeless once and I never want to go through it again. I am, now, obsessively on top of my bills as a result.

21.) My name is Bryanna.

22.) I can type without looking at the keyboard since my grandma wouldn’t let me touch a computer for any reason other than to play keyboard learning games.

23.) My favorite video games will always be Zelda related, but I’m also into things like Dragon Age, Mass Effect, KOTOR, Horizon Zero Dawn, Super Mario, etc. When I was younger, I was really into Final Fantasy and Legend of Dragoon and .. god.. so many others. Most of my games had like.. four game discs. Lol.

24.) I am an insane coffee addict. Seriously, I will get huge migraines and throw up when I go a day without it. Even when we’re broke, I will scrounge for loose change to keep myself stocked. Haha.

25.) If I’m honest, I’m afraid of the dark.

26.) I’m also afraid of mirrors, especially in the dark.

27.) Because of those things alone, I avoid all horror movies. I just can’t even...

28.) I love Cheese-Its.

29.) I am deathly afraid of Spiders and bees/wasps/hornets.

30.) In fact, I hate most bugs.

31.) I was the type of kid who grew up with iguanas.

32.) I’ve literally beat boys up for trying to harm animals. Idgaf!

33.) I feel trapped in my life sometimes, as a mother and as a girlfriend. I wish I had more time for myself to just be Bryanna. Hense, this Simblr obsession! Lol.

34.) Although I’ve played Sims forever, this is the first time I’ve ever made stories with my sims and shared them. It’s made the game so much more fun.

35.) I hate being picked up or tickled.

36.) I love fall and, of course, all the pumpkin flavored shit!

37.) I really hate feet.

38.) I have never slept naked... ever.

39.) I really want to have a career involved in computers.. one that I don’t have to deal with people in that.. fake friendly way.

40.) My father died when I was 15.

41.) My mother has struggled with chronic pain for most of my life; it’s made things kind of hard in ways I’m still trying to understand.

42.) When I was younger, I did nothing but write stories and draw. I don’t do as much of either anymore.

43.) I have freckles everywhere and I love them.

44.) I hate that I have brown eyes.

45.) I never put the toilet paper roll on the holder. Ever.

46.) I have a small dog named Atlas. She’s more like a cat than a dog, though. And a total brat.

47.) I can deal with all kinds of stuff; blood, poop, pee, etc. But I HATE throw up. Ugh..

48.) I am honest to the point of almost ruining my life. Lol.

49.) Unpopular opinion; I am not a fan of Apple products.

50.) I have never been outside of my country. Traveling is something I’m going to do as soon as my kids are old enough to live on their own.

51.) I love to sing; I used to be good enough to be in choir and get paid to do Christmas carols... but lack of use has kind of killed my voice. Lol.

52.) I think farting is freaking gross. Lol. And rude. Do it somewhere else!

53.) My nick name ‘glow worm’ comes from the fact that I’m so white I “glow in the dark”. Me keeping it was a big middle finger to those that made it. Idgaf! Lol.

54.) I hate cake; I prefer ice cream cake on my birthday, with whipped topping.

55.) I am really blunt; sometimes I can hurt people’s feelings.

56.) When I’m sad, I will turn on Christmas music (Any time of the year) and sing along. I freaking love Christmas!

57.) I used to live in Florida; I moved to the top of the U.S. and now I can safely admit that snow is only good until Christmas is done, then it needs to fuck off! All the good it does, at that point, is keep all the bugs dead.

I tag: @mellocakes, @jupidella, @tigerellasims, @sparkiemonkey, @elliesimsx, @all-harlows-eve, @okruee, @oakella, @oakglow, @aharris00britney, @hiddenspringss

#57facts #57 facts

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jinnielovebot · 6 years

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soft bias tag! ♡

tagged by @bangs-chan @bangchans @seungminty THANK U I LOVE U

ok for real this tag was actually rlly fun to do :’)))

tagging: @jeongin @himeaegyo @hanjisunng @reosian @3rxcha @doublekn0t @felixeslee @jiisung henlo pls ignore if u have alrdy done this love u btw

DISCLAIMER: i get rlly mushy in this because every hour is softjin hour ;(

who is your bias?

kim seungmin hwang hyunjin!

what made you notice them?

ajsdjahdg his voice!! tbh his voice was actually the reason i got into sk in the first place ahahjsd LMAO can u believe i havent swerved for the last 8 months DAMN im loyal anyways im rlly particular when it comes to rapper n their voices n hyunjins rap part in hellevator just,,,fit in so seamlessly,,,and it just sounded so smooth n perfect nd you bet your sweet arse i did a Phat double take when his part came on in the song

what’s your favorite thing about them?

u want me to pick just one?????????

OKAY LIKE i think my absolute favorite thing abt him that made me LOVE him is like how hardworking he is like duirng the show when jyp criticized him a lot :((((( he still worked super hard even if he was a lil bit discouraged but in the end he!! did!! That!!!!! nd like i love that quality of him and i honestly look up to it like being able to work super hard n want to improve even after lots of criticism is so hard for me but watching him b so motivated n determined just makes me ;;____;; and wow he just alwys wants to learn!! and improve!! wow i m in love with him

OTHER THINGS I LOVE ABOUT HIM include how cute n cuddly he is like,,,,always clinging onto everyone else like how do u not love that and i also love the way he smiles and laughs like my god u thought the sun was bright?? well then u havent seen his smile ://// i love the way his eyes just kinda scrunch up when he laughs and its the Cutest thing EVER and every time he smiles or does his little scrunch thing i rlly. RLLY. just wanna kiss him but u didnt hear that from me ;u;

who would initiate skinship more?

probably him bc im shy af asjdkas and i can imagine just walking beside him when he randomly just takes my hand or swings his lanky af arm around me

who would hog blankets more?

ME bc im needy and i get cold easily :’D

who would be more clingy?

he wld be more physically clingy but i think i wld be more mentally clingy bc i get sad when im apart from people

who would say ‘i love you’ first?

i think he’d say it first just bc he doesnt seem like he gives any craps LMAO n would just go for it asjkdah i’d be way too shy to say anything first

who would be more easily flustered?

me bc i could just look at him and then get flustered let alone talk to him n be near him

what cuddling position would you two have?

he’d be the big spoon because have u seen how tall he is and then i’d be the little spoon because have u seen how small i am LMAOO but sometimes i would wanna face him so i can like throw my leg over him like a pillow if u know what i mean

which colors remind you of them and why?

peach and warm pink!! bc he’s a peach :(((( but i think its bc when i think of him i literally think of the sun and jus t how bright he is

which season would you like to spend with them?

winter!! bc imagine cuddling under blankets and watching movies and eating snacks in the dark w him while we wait for it to be midnight on christmas eve :( and also its sweater weather so him!! wearing hoodies!! all the time!!

i would luv spending summer with him too tho bc imagine all the late night dates we could go on since it doesnt get cold (in cali at least) at night nd spending all day doing dum stuff like the dum lovers we are :(((

who would bake the cookies and who would steal the batter?

LMAO GOOD ONE you can bet u will see us at the store buying premade cookies bc we dont got the time nor the skills to be baking

which one of you would make bad puns and how would the other react?

honestly both of us would make bad puns it would just depend on the day and the other would react like “i suddenly am single” every time

who would want to adopt 50 dogs and cats?

both of us bc we lov kkami and want more friends for kkami :’((

which one of you would nearly burn down the kitchen trying to microwave a pop tart and who would come to the rescue?

this is a trick question bc both of us would burn down the kitchen trying to microwave a pop tart

who likes to lean over tall railings and who pulls them back?

fun fact i’m deathly afraid of heights so he would probably be the one leaning over the railings and then i’m pulling him back telling him how one day he’s gonna fall over n how he should give me all his stuff when he writes his will

what would watching a horror film with them be like?

id be under the blanket and covering my eyes for dear LIFE while hes laughing and tryna pry my hands away from my eyes AND HE’D PROBABLY TRY TO PRANK/SCARE ME LATER AFTER THE MOVIE ASKDJHAHSDKJ

who would be the cheesy flirt and who would be the smooth flirt?

im the cheesy flirt bc i barely know how to flirt at all meanwhile

him: is doing nothing at all

me: god can u stop flirting with me already

who is more competitive?

IM SO COMPETITIVE AHSKJD im the type of person that says “wait best out of 3″ LMFAO so i can imagine us making a bet over smthn and then the loser has to pay for food and ill get petty and ask for a best out of 3 match LOL

who would have to be given constant reminders? (remember to eat, don’t forget your keys, etc)

also me bc i get distracted super easily and i forget to eat and sleep literally every day

who sends memes and who sends cute ‘i miss you’ texts at 3AM?

he sends the i miss you texts n then i respond in reaction memes

him: i miss you

me:

#tagged #tag game #THIS WAS RLLY CUTE LIKE ASDKHAKSD #I HAD SO MUCH FUN DOING THIS TAG ;;;;;#ugh take a shot every time i say lMAO #my vocabulary is literally equivalent to that of a pigeon #ppl i tagged i wanna see u guys get soft #open up them soft hours bc we all about unconditional love and support around here #except for mr lee know he can stop hurting me thank u

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professordrarry · 6 years

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Tagged by @belleslettres-love who will hopefully not hate me cuz I was so snarky when answering this but don't let that fool you! I had fun, I'm just a brat...

Rules: Answer any 20 questions about yourself and then tag 20 followers that you wanna get to know better!

name: Professor Drarry….ha you thought you were gonna get that out of me didn’t you?

nickname: Prof, ProfD, Jerkface, Egg, and occasionally “omg shut up you evil minion”.

age: 150.

gender: is a societal construct.

orientation: most recently I have been labelled a ghost apologist and an Arthurian Lesbian, which are both closer to accurate than I’ve ever come on my own, so… ;)

height: too short to reach the top shelf of my kitchen cabinet.

favourite colour: violently green green. And mint. But not together?

book recommendation: Holding Up The Universe, Jennifer Niven; We Were Liars, E. Lockhart (it is very hard to shock me with a book….but holy crap. This one had me shook fo daaaays)

movie recommendation: THE GREATEST SHOWMAN

anime recommendation: The Place Promised in Our Early Days

music recommendation: Matthew Barber. The Mountain Goats.

coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: whichever one is being brought to me in bed...

cats or dogs: dogs.

favorite meme: does party dumbles and Snape count? That might be just a gif. Guys, I'm old.

i want to live long enough to witness: I’m not optimistic enough to answer this question… I tried for like ten minutes to think of something not climate related.

weird obsessions: Tulips, Drarry dads headcanons, Walt Whitman

tumblr birthday: sometime in January? Am I supposed to know that?

how many sideblogs: none, just this messy disaster of a multi fandom blog where I never remember to tag ‘not hp’.

random fact about me: I am deathly afraid of goats. No I'm not kidding. No it's not funny. Well okay... Its funny until I am near a goat. Then not. Funny. Do not put the goat near me and pretend it's a sheep. Do not tell me there is a goat when there isn't. Don't buy me a surprise birthday goat. Not. Funny.

goals for 2018: actually write all the shit I’ve signed up for, land permanent job, obtain dog.

If you read all the way to the end of this YOU HAVE BEEN TAGGED. And we are gonna go with 90s bloody Mary rules on this one...you can pretend you didn't see it, and ignore the tagging. But you know every time you are in a dark empty bathroom... Wait. I've gone off track here...

#tag games #Adventures in oversharing #I am well aware of how crazy I am thank you very much #NO GOATS

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faustianexchange-blog · 6 years

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What’s Up Demons, It’s Ya Boys

For: somniiari Author: Wife-of-Queen’s-Watchdog Pairings/Character: Sebastian, OC, RC, implied Sebastian/Agni Warnings: alcohol mention Prompt: Modern AU Phantomhive twins as fake paranormal investigators, claiming their caretaker Sebastian is a demon. Author’s Notes: My attempt to modernize these characters may have made them a bit OOC, and due to the fact that we still don’t know much about Real Ciel (including his name), I had to get a little creative. i hope this is still enjoyable! It was a lot of fun to write!

“Hey guys – bro, come get in the video! Hey guys, It’s the Phantomhive twins again, back with another paranormal investigation video for you!” Two boys, nearly identical in appearance, appear on shaky video footage. The clip was obviously filmed on somebody’s phone, and the less enthusiastic of the two boys was half cut out of the shot. “This video’s gonna be a really good one, because we’ve finally gotten the opportunity to investigate someone we’ve been meaning to catch for a while. Now, Mom and Dad went out to, uh…” The boy who had been talking to the camera frowned slightly and turned to his brother, who smiled at him expectantly. “Where did they say they were going?”

“They went with Aunt Francis and Uncle Alexis into London for the weekend. I’m pretty sure they told us that like three times…” Ciel shrugged and grinned cheekily at the camera again. “Well, the point is they left us with this guy Sebastian, and we’re confident that he’s a demon. Now, we-” “-You’re confident that he’s a demon, I’m not totally sold on that.” Ciel was cut off by his brother’s interjection, and turned to him again. “You said you agreed with me!” “I said that because you wouldn’t stop talking about it and I thought it would get you to be quiet.” The boy looked at the camera disdainfully. “It didn’t.” Ciel Phantomhive sighed and clamped his hand over the camera lens and the clip cut off.

The next shot was similar to the last one, except this time Ciel’s brother was wearing a pained smile and was rubbing his shoulder where he had apparently been punched in an attempt to get him to play along. “Anyways, like I was saying. We’ve got good reason to believe that this Sebastian guy’s a demon. Bro, read off the evidence!” The other boy stopped rubbing his arm and whipped out his phone, turning it to show an outdated looking webpage entitled, “Signs of a Demon in Disguise.” “First, we’ve got ‘Aversion to Spirituality.’” Ciel nodded. “We’ve still got to test that one actually. Read the next one!” “Uh… ‘Alcoholism or Drug abuse.’” Ciel’s eyes lit up. “Oh, oh! One time, after our parents got back from some trip they were on where Sebastian was watching us, they invited him to have some drinks with them, and he did!” “That doesn’t mean anything. He was probably just being polite. That doesn’t mean he’s an alcoholic.” “But it doesn’t mean he’s not! Next point, please.” There was a pause while the voice of reason sighed in exasperation, then the words, “Supernatural Knowledge.” “Okay, so there was that time when you were scared that there was a monster under the bed, and Sebastian didn’t even have to look under there and he knew that there wasn’t. And then he was like “monsters don’t hide under beds anymore. These days they tend to wait outside the window for someone to fall asleep and then they come inside.’” “Ciel, that was you, not me! You were the one who was scared of the monster! And he was just messing with you! He was joking- AAAAHHH!”

Both boys screamed as the door behind them flew open and a tall, unsettlingly handsome man stood in the doorway. He looked surprised at their reaction, but then smiled wryly in amusement. “Telling ghost stories, are we?” the man asked. The video footage became extremely blurry as the camera was hurriedly pulled behind Ciel Phantomhive’s back. “N-No! We were just… playing a game!” “What do you want, Sebastian?” the boys responded, speaking over each other. Sebastian, perplexed, paused for a second before saying, “I came to tell you the frozen pizzas are done.” The boys were silent. One of them began to say “thank you” as the footage cut off.

The footage picks up with a view of the underside of the dining table, shaking slightly as the camera was held in secret under the table. “What’s the matter with you two today? You’re usually more rambunctious than this. Especially you, Ciel.” Sebastian’s voice, polite yet amused. There’s a stuttering clunk as two plates are placed on the tabletop. “We’re just…tired. Are you not having any pizza, Sebastian?” One of the boys asked. “No, I don’t eat this type of thing. I don’t see how you people do, either.” A boy’s hushed voice can be heard whispering, “You people…?” and was cut off by the other boy’s hurried “Shhh!”

The video blurs as the camera is retrieved from under the table, and is reoriented towards Sebastian, who has his back turned to the table as he washes his hands in the sink. There’s a zoom in on a strange tattoo on his hand. Ciel reached over to nudge his brother, then points at the older man’s hand. “What is that?” Ciel whispers louder than he meant to on accident. “What’s what? My tattoo?” Sebastian asked, turning back to the boys and frowning slightly when he notices the phone trained towards him. “It’s a pentagram, specifically the one we use as the logo of the band I’m in. You could have just asked, you know. No need to gossip.” Sebastian wipes his hands on a dishrag and sits down across from the boys. “Neither of you have touched your pizza.” He leans forward, placing his chin in his hands. “Why do I get the feeling you’re deathly afraid of me?” The footage shakes as the phone is hurriedly removed, but stops at the sound of Sebastian’s voice. “No, no, keep it out! We’ll pretend this is an interview. You two can ask me any questions you like, and I’ll try to convince you that I’m mostly nonthreatening.” The two boys look at each other, before hesitantly saying “…okay,” in unison.

“What’s your opinion on alcohol?” Sebastian raises his eyebrows. “My opinion on…? Neutral, I suppose. That’s a strange question to ask. I was expecting something more along the lines of ‘what’s your favorite color?’” A pause. “Well, what is your favorite color?” Ciel asks. Sebastian gives a short laugh. “I don’t know how to describe it. It doesn’t have a name that you would understand.” The boys stare at Sebastian, who flashes brilliantly white teeth at them in a sort of half-smile. “Next question, if you please.” Ciel asks the next question. “What do you know about vampires?” The man thinks for a moment. “Can’t say I’ve ever met one personally. From what I’ve heard they’re delightful conversationalists, if a bit self-involved. Werewolves, on the other hand. Stupid, terribly smelly creatures. If you’ve met one you’ve met them all.” Both boys sit in shocked silence again. “You’re messing with us.” Sebastian only smiles.

Ciel’s brother finally pipes up. “What do you identify as religiously?” “Not applicable.” “Huh?” “I said, ‘not applicable.’ I’ve never given religion much thought. Don’t see a reason to. That’s an odd question as well.” Suddenly, Ciel hands his phone to his brother, and then runs into the next room, returning with a large book. He holds it out to Sebastian, who peers down his nose at it. “Do you know what this is?” Ciel asks. Sebastian frowns. “That’s the Bible. Why?” Ciel thrusts the book towards the man. “Take it.” Sebastian moves away from it, throwing up his hands, which are covered in tomato sauce. “Oh, no, I still have some pizza on my hands. Don’t want to ruin your parent’s book.” The boy holding the camera audibly gasps. “But you just washed your hands!” Sebastian, once again at the sink, turns to the boy and smiles brightly. “Must have missed a spot.” Ciel looks at his brother in alarm, and sits back down, still clutching the Bible tightly. “That’s really freaky.” The boy mouths silently. Sebastian chuckles, making both boys jump.

“I seem to have you boys convinced I’m some sort of monster. A being from another world, perhaps? Well, I can’t imagine what I could have done to put that thought into your little heads, but I’ll tell you this: My name is Sebastian Michealis, I have five beautiful cats, I enjoy cooking and experimenting with recipes, I can play three different instruments, and I have great respect for and other inclinations towards a wonderful, and might I add, highly religious man named Agni. If any of those facts about me seem particularly monstrous, I’ll have to admit that you’ve gotten me figured out, and for that I applaud you. If not, well, it seems I’m just one hell of an ordinary man.” The two boys glance at each other. “Point taken.”

The next shot is the same as the first, with the two boys standing in a bedroom. Ciel looks disappointed, the other boy looks smug, but they both appear a bit rattled. Ciel speaks first. “Hey guys. Uh, so we didn’t really prove anything like we wanted to. But, on the one hand, we did-“ “Bro, we didn’t accomplish anything. We’re not gonna post the video, so there’s no point in filming an outro.” Ciel sighs as he realizes his brother is right. The footage cuts off as the camera is suddenly powered down.

The final shot starts off dark, and just as it starts to seem like nothing else will happen, a single flame flickers to life. Its glow reveals that it is dancing on the fingertip of none other than Sebastian Michealis, smiling slyly. He bursts into a grin, and as this happens his eyes begin to glow red, as if they too are on fire. His hair blows around his face in an invisible wind, and his steadily widening smile gradually becomes pointed with shark-like teeth. The only audio is a crackling, howling sound, like a mix between a windstorm and television static. It increases in intensity as the flame grows brighter and the man on screen morphs into a monster, so slowly it isn’t noticeable as it’s changing, like the hands of a clock. Just as it can’t seem to continue any longer, there is the sound of a doorbell, and instantly Sebastian has returned to his human form, and the flame is extinguished. His surprise is replaced with a smirk, and he looks into the camera. “Parents are home.” His voice says, though his mouth doesn’t move. Footage cuts out. End of video.

#Kuroshitsuji #Black Butler #Ciel Phantomhive #Sebastian Michaelis #Astre Phantomhive #wifeofqueenswatchdog #somniiari #Ciel's Death Day 2018 #fanfiction #submission

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