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touyasdoll · 3 years

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Complicated - Chapter Two

Chapter One: Here

Pairing: Dabi/Touya Todoroki x reader

Warnings: self-degradation/self-doubt

Word count: 2.2k

A/n: Gonna rework this and ditch the first person POV, jsyk.

A/n pt. 2: This story does contain spoilers for the show/manga. The dates/ages of characters are going to be shifted around a bit.

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It's been two days. Is he gonna call? Text? Completely forget I exist?

I sigh, trying to expel the anxiety balled up in the pit of my stomach.

Why would he call? We talked for, what, five minutes? He seemed older too. You were in your damn school uniform, idiot. He's obviously got more important shit to do than chat up a schoolgirl who can't mind her own fucking business.

"Ugh," I groan to no one but myself in my apartment. "I'm really just the biggest fucking jackass, aren't I?"

Flopping down on my bed, I let out another weighty sigh and bury my face in the plethora of pillows piled beneath me.

Relax. Maybe he'll text. Maybe he won't. And if he doesn't he's just sparing you the embarrassment that you would inevitably bring upon yourself.

A yawn escapes my lips as I feel a wave of drowsiness wash over me. Glancing at the clock, I could see it was hardly 5 PM.

Fucked up sleep schedule, here I come.

The familiar comfort of my bed allows me to quiet my thoughts enough to fall into a shallow sleep, until I'm startled awake by a vibrating sensation coming from underneath my chin.

I blink against the harsh light emitting from my phone, squinting to see who was disturbing me.

What the--oh shit!

It was an unknown number. Recognizing that it could be him, I sit up faster than I have ever managed to after a nap and fumble the phone into my palm, eagerly sliding my thumb across the screen to accept the call.

"Hello?"

My breath hitches and I bite my lip in anticipation as I wait, eager to hear his deep, silky voice on the other end.

But the pause on the other side of the line seems just a little too long. Something is off.

Is this him? Is it..just some creep? A prank? What the hell?

"We've been trying to reach you about your car's extended warranty."

My eyes slam shut, a shake reverberating through my spine as a cocktail of anger and embarrassment wash over me.

That's it. Hope is off limits from now on.

"Fucking great."

I tap the end button, half ready to throw my phone out the window.

Instead, I decide to check and see if I missed anything else while I was out.

Hope is off limits.

I shake my head, trying to erase the little embers of hope that persist, praying that maybe he did reach out.

To my surprise, there's a text from an unrecognized number.

Unknown: You free tonight, doll?

Holy shit.

Looking above the message, I see: Today 6:58 PM. I wince as I dare to look at the clock, which mercifully reads 7:26 PM.

Tapping the text box, I don't give myself the chance to overthink this opportunity.

Me: For you? Sure thing.

Tossing my phone onto the bed, I nod my head, processing the sudden burst of confidence I seem to have found.

I'm not like this. What is it about this guy? He's just that--a guy. One that I don't know. And now I'm just gonna meet up with him?

He's literally a stranger. Who the hell do I think I am?? Is my vagina just running things now? Gonna run out and meet up with some strange dude, because he's pretty and charming?

You know who else was pretty and charming?? Ted Bundy.

That's right, you said it. This is dumb, logically. This is everything everyone’s ever warned you about.

My phone buzzes and my heart rate spikes in response, tearing me from my spiraling doubts.

Unknown: Our spot. 30 minutes. See you there.

A noise that I've certainly never made before eeks past my lips as I process his instructions.

Fuck it. The possibility of this guy being a serial killer has been assessed. I'm going, risks be damned.

You're an idiot. You're an idiot. You're an idiot.

I sigh for the umpteenth time today, waging war in my own mind.

I don't know what it is about him, but I have to see him again. Nothing bad is going to happen. It'll be fine.

That's what I tell myself as I exhale, until I catch my reflection.

My hair is disheveled, my mascara askew. I didn't even bother to take off my uniform before I passed out.

As if I weren't flustered enough, now I gotta make myself looking somewhere near presentable and get down there in time.

Here goes nothing.

Fifteen minutes fly by and I think I've managed it as I step back to look myself over in the mirror once more.

The shortest pair of high-waisted shorts I own, paired with a low-cut black crop top and my favorite slip-ons. My make-up doesn't look perfect and there's not much of it, but it's touched up, and my hair is at least brushed.

Okay, no turning back now.

Grabbing my keys, I tuck my phone in my back pocket and make my way to the meeting place.

+++++++++++++++

Our spot. The man is smooth and I think that he knows it.

I re-read the last message he sent for probably the thirteenth time in the past five minutes.

The clock in the corner of the screen reads 8:02.

Maybe he won’t show. Maybe this is a joke. He and his buddies with come around a corner and laugh as they speed off.

Damn, can I chill? No. He’s going to be here. And I’m going to act like a human fucking being. A normal girl. Someone he could like; I’m capable of that.

Aren’t I?

Scanning my surroundings yet again, I take in the scenery. I never really get out at night, but the city looks so pretty this way. There’s not too much traffic, especially considering that it’s a Friday night, but there are some people milling about up and down the sidewalk. Some look like they’re on their way home. Some look like they’re on their way out for a night on the town.

“Hey there.”

My eyes are quick to follow the sound of his voice. I look up and he’s strolling up to the bench where I’m seated, the same one where I bandaged his arm the other day.

His hands are shoved in his front pockets, thumbs pushed through the belt loops of the tight, black jeans he’s sporting. His white t-shirt dangles off of his frame in a way that suits him, offering a glimpse of his muscular chest. A black coat completes his ensemble and he certainly looks the part of the typical bad boy.

But, damn, does it look so good on him.

“Hey, there. How’s the arm?”

I scoot over a bit, allowing for ample space between us if he were to take a seat. To my surprise, he sits towards the middle of the bench, so that his thigh brushes against mine as he settles.

I tuck my hair behind my ear, glancing down and covering the noise I want to make with a quiet clearing of my throat.

“It’s good. You do make a pretty decent nurse, sweetheart.”

He grins and pulls his coat sleeve back, revealing the still bandaged wound.

“Wait, have you changed that?”

You’re such a mom. You better hope he’s into MILFs, because otherwise this ain’t gonna get you where you wanna go, girl.

His brow furrows in an expression that tells me all I need to know before he even speaks.

“What do you mean? Changed what?”

A quiet sigh leaves my lungs as I hold out my hand.

“May I?”

His puzzled expression doesn’t falter, but he shrugs and offers his forearm up for inspection.

Carefully, I pull back the tape holding the bandages together and slowly begin to unwrap them.

That is, until the smell hits me. I barely catch of glimpse of the reddened skin before my nostrils detect the scent of burned flesh and excess viscera.

“Oh, dear. Have you even unwrapped this thing?”

Trying not to agitate anything further, I delicately wrap the bandages back around his arm, taping them down once again.

“No, should I have?”

I look up and my gaze meets his, a sense of true ignorance evident in his expression; I try not to laugh. I really try, but a soft giggle escapes nonetheless.

“Yes! I mean, if it doesn’t hurt, I’m sure it’s not that bad right now, but you should be cleaning and redressing a wound like that once every 12 hours at the very least. It’s been what, like, at least 50 at this point?”

His good arm reaches for the back of his neck, scratching at it as he dons an apologetic half smile.

“Sorry, I’m not exactly nurturing by nature, doll. I don’t know the first fucking thing about this kind shit.”

I cock a sympathetic smile as I look at him, sitting there looking almost helpless. I guess he is, in a sense. It’s actually kinda cute how he doesn’t seem to have an inkling of how to properly care for himself.

Because that’s absolutely what you want in a potential relationship. Someone to fix, how fun! Why not open up a shop for broken boys? Girl, when will you learnnn??

“Well, I don’t have anything on me right now, but if you don’t mind coming back to my place, I could clean it up there? And I’ll teach you how to keep up with it this time.”

I guess not today, motherfucker.

“Coming to my rescue again. You must be in a hero course, huh, doll?”

His smile is so naturally disarming as he stands and offers his hand out before me.

“I don’t mind, if you’re sure you don’t. I don’t wanna make you uncomfortable and I don’t wanna be a burden. I didn’t ask you out tonight for you to have to play doctor on me again.”

He seems so sweet, so genuine. Maybe he is broken, but everyone deserves kindness. He looks like he hasn’t seen much of that. And as cliché as it is, maybe I can help him. Maybe he can help me.

I slip my hand in his, smiling as flirtatiously as I can manage as he pulls me to my feet.

“I don’t mind. I was kind of hoping I might get to play doctor on you again anyway. Maybe you could even return the favor.”

I brush my fingers against his as our hands disconnect, taking a page from his own book and watching his expression as my skin glides against his.

Or maybe we could just do this. This works too. No muss, no fuss. But oh my goodness what if what I just did was weird and he’s not even interested??

His eyebrows rise for just a moment as he chuckles and glances down, still grinning as he puts his hands in his coat pockets.

“Well, sweetheart, I don’t know much about medicine, but I do know how to give a pretty thorough physical exam.”

Something twitched deep inside my belly as my breath caught in my throat and I damn near tripped over my own two feet as we started walking.

Thankfully, his reflexes were quicker than my inate ability to fuck things up and his good arm reached out to steady my frame as he stepped in front of me.

The delicious scent of his cologne mingling with remnant cigarette smoke nearly made me dizzy as my hands connected with his chest, now completely unable to ignore the muscles just beneath his thin shirt.

“You all right there, doll?”

Long, slender fingers find their way under my chin. His thumb just barely brushing the edge of my bottom lip as he strokes it over my chin.

His eyes are practically piercing mine as he carefully lifts my face to his. Who knew being in such close proximity to someone so beautiful could be this paralyzing.

Holy fuck. Forget fixing me. He can break me and I’ll probably thank him for it.

The strong hand on the small of my back threatens to rob me of my breath all over again and I have to fight to keep any semblance of composure in his arms.

“Yeah.” I tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear and will myself to break eye contact. “You always have girls falling for you this quickly?”

I pity laugh at my own joke, wishing my quirk was something that would allow me to disappear.

But then he’s chuckling too. It’s melodious at first, but then it morphs into a deep reverberation that sends all the right chills down my spine as I level my eyes with his again.

He looks like an enigma personified. His eyes look so gentle and warm, but his smile reads so sad. The words that leave his lips sound like both a warning and an invitation to my flushe red ears.

“Trust me, princess. You don’t wanna fall for me. I’m no good for you.”

Oh, but it’s too late for that.

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allamericansbitch · 4 years

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QUARANTINE ENTERTAINMENT MASTERPOST

I’ve had some people ask me for some recommendations and when i suggested a masterpost people seemed on board so! This is a very long post containing all my favorite movies, TV shows, and music to try and lower the boredom some of us are facing right now.

They’re organized by the form of entertainment as well as genres. The TV shows and movies include a very vague and brief summary of the entertainment with no spoilers, but if you really want to go in blind then feel free to ignore them!

Some of the picks are very known and you’ve probably watched/listened/read them already and others are some I don’t hear a lot of people talking about and deserve more recognition! I’ll probably be updating it whenever i think of more things. They are all below the cut! Have fun!

MOVIES

Horror/Thriller/Crime

Prisoners (R)

It follows the story of two children who go missing on Thanksgiving and takes you through the investigation and has many twists and turns, so if that’s your thing then you’ll love this movie. It mainly stars Jake Gyllenhaal and Hugh Jackman and they're both incredible in it.

Zodiac (R)

This is another Jake Gyllenhall movie... sorry. It follows an investigator and the team trying to catch the Zodiac killer. From what I recall, it doesn't show any of the crimes actually happening, more of the detective's perspective on everything.

Gone Girl (R)

A classic, if you haven't seen it please do yourself a favor. It’s about a married couple, and the wife ends up going missing and the investigation to find her, while also following her perspective.

Extremely Wicked, Shockingly Evil and Vile (R) (Available on Netflix)

This is a movie about Ted Bundy and it’s everything a movie about a serial killer should be, it doesn't glamorize anything and doesn't depict the crimes and honors the victims. It is told from the perspective of his longtime girlfriend Liz and how she is finding out about the crimes and worrying if Ted is involved. Amazing movie and really good acting by Zac Efron and Lily Collins.

Ready or Not (R)

This is about a bride on her wedding day who, on the night of her wedding, is forced to play a game with her in-laws and things... happen. That’s all I’ll say.

It: Chapter 1 + It: Chapter 2 (R)

Honestly, I prefer the first one over the second but both are amazing. The first movie follows a group of kids who are followed by an evil spirit that changes forms haunt them, and the second movie is when the kids are all grown up and have to deal with the spirit again.

Us (R)

This movie scared the fuck out of me so this might be the biggest "horror” movie on the list. Directed by Jordan Peele so obviously it’s good, it follows a family who see a group of people on their driveway... that look familiar? idk how to explain it without giving it away but that’s in the trailer so...

Get Out (R)

I feel like if you havent seen this by now you're never gonna but like... see it. It’s great and really layered and it has such a good flow to it, at no point did i feel like it dragged on.

The Invisible Man (R)

i LOVE this movie, it unfolds so well. It follows a woman who is running away from an abusive relationship and when she does get away, she feels like she is being followed by something or someone.

Comedy

Shrek (PG)

honestly any of these movies will do, they are still the funniest movies i’ve ever seen- donKEYH

Legally Blonde (PG-13)

invented the word iconic, truly. About a woman who gets broken up with and then gets into law school to prove herself.

Booksmart (R)

Coming of age movie with two friends who try and spend a wild night out on the night before their graduation.... literally every character, both side and main, are hilarious and i would watch an entire spin-off movie about them if it got made.

The Road to El Dorado (PG)

an animated movie that you've probably seen via a meme of at some point. two friends find a map to the lost City of Gold, then try and con their way to the gold to steal it.

The Nice Guys (R)

a duo of dudes who don’t get along at all are forced to come together and solve the disappearance of a young girl, all while other groups of people are looking for her too.

Thor: Ragnarok (PG-13)

yes i’m categorizing this as a comedy because it’s the funniest marvel movies ever... idk if i really need to explain the pot because it’s a marvel movie and they all kinda have the same one lol.

We’re the Millers (R)

A guy tries to create a fake family in order to hide the fact that he is trying to bring drugs across the border.

Bridesmaids (R)

It’s about a woman who goes through a breakup and then finds out her best friend is getting married.... idk it’s funny... who hasnt seen it at this point...

Game Night (R)

a group of friends come together for a game night, but one person from the group ends up being taken and after finding out that is not part of the game, the group needs to try and save them... it doesn't sound like a comedy but it is.

Romance (+ Comedy?)

10 Things I Hate About You (PG-13)

about two sisters, one is younger and wants a boyfriend while the older one doesn’t want one, and the younger one has a crush on another dude at her school and the other one is trying to ignore a dude who has expressed interest in her

Stuck in Love (R)

About a family of three, a single father, a daughter and a son, who all are having plots of their own. The son has a crush on a girl, the daughter is very anti-love due to her parent's divorce, and the father is still trying to get the wife back.

Before We Go (PG-13)

Two strangers meet and spend the night trying to find the women’s purse that ended up getting stolen and has to make it back to her hometown by the end of the night... it’s so cute and really easy to watch movie.

The Edge of Seventeen (R)

It’s about a girl who basically hates her life and finds out her best friend is dating her older brother, while also trying to find love for herself.

Obvious Child (R)

It follows a girl who’s a stand-up comedian who just got broken up with and has a one-night stand with a guy she met after a show, then weeks later finds out she’s pregnant. It stars Jenny Slate so... watch it.

Set It Up (Netflix)

Two assistants come up with a plan to get their bosses off their backs by setting them up with each other.

Atonement (R)

There’s not a lot to say without giving away spoilers so... a period drama about a potential couple?

Miscellaneous

The Bling Ring (R)

a movie about a real-life story of a group of teens who decided to rob a bunch of famous peoples houses, i have no idea what genre this is because it’s not really a thriller, you don’t follow the investigation so it’s not a crime movie, it’s not a comedy, idk... it flew by and was really easy to watch with an interesting plot so...

Tangled (PG)

everyone ignores this Disney movie... idk why. it’s very cute and it’s the story of rapunzel.... go watch it.

The Parent Trap (PG)

this is about two kids who, which attending a summer camp, find out that they're twins that they got separated when their parents get divorced and then they decide to pretend ot be one another, go back to their parents and reunite them...it’s kind of a comedy, romance, coming of age movie... it’s real cute.

Wall-E (G)

another disney movie that doesn’t get enough credit... a movie about how the earth has become overcome by trash and humans are in search for a new place to live, while robots are made to pick up their mess... one robot falls in love with another... real cute.

The Skeleton Twins (R)

after years of not seeing/talking to each other, the pair of twins (brother and sister), reunite after a set of tragedies and it takes you through them trying to become closer and figuring out how to help each other.

Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (PG)

I mean... it’s the story of spiderman but it’s animated int he coolest way possible, making it 1000x better and more entertaining... also john mulaney voices a spider pig.

TELEVISION

Crime

Criminal Minds

Follows an FBI team from the behavioral analysis unit who look at the worst criminals in the US and anticipate their next moves in order to catch them. This show is 15 seasons long and each episode is about 40 minutes so... a good commitment lol

Sharp Objects

A reporter returns to her hometown to investigate unsolved murders of children, and she reunites with her estranged family, which sparks traumatic childhood memories. It’s one season and 8 episodes about an hour-long

The Mind of Aaron Hernandez

This is a Netflix docu-series with interviews of friends, players and insiders, this examines how Aaron Hernandez went from an NFL star to a convicted killer. It’s 3 episodes and each is an hour-long.

Unbelievable

A Netflix series about a teen who reports being raped, then recants her story, two female detectives follow evidence that could reveal the truth; based on a true story. 8 episodes and they're about 40-50 minutes.

Mindhunter

FBI agents attempt to understand and catch serial killers by studying their damaged psyches. Along the way, the agents pioneer the development of modern serial-killer profiling. 2 seasons and 19 episodes altogether, each running about 40 minutes.

Cold Case Files

Netflix series that chronicles the re-examination of long-unsolved crimes and the journeys of law enforcement personnel who reopened them.

Comedy

One Day at a Time

Netflix series (now on POP TV) a newly single Army veteran, and her Cuban-American family, as they navigate the ups and downs of life. Now a nurse, she is raising two strong-willed children with the help of her mother. 3 seasons and a 4th premiering now, each episode is 30 minutes.

Brooklyn 99

Honestly... if you havent watched this show by now wtf... it’s a bunch of cops being really dumb watch it. 7 seasons and each episode is 30 minutes.

Schitt’s Creek

a wealthy family suddenly find themselves completely broke. With only one remaining asset, a small town called Schitt's Creek, which the family bought years earlier as a joke, this once-wealthy couple must give up life as they know it and are forced to face their newfound poverty head-on and come together as a family to survive. This has 6 seasons and each episode is about 30 minutes long.

Barry

low-level hit man Barry Berkman seeks a way out of his career, and while follows his target into an acting class and ends up instantly drawn to the community, so he tries to outrun his life of crime while his boss is trying to find him and hunt him down. This show is a mix of comedy and crime but to me it’s way funnier so that’s why i put it here, it’s 2 seasons and they're each about 30 minutes.

Veep

follows a vice president dealing with a political landscape and trying to move forward in her career... this show is so funny please watch it. 7 seasons long and each episode is about 30 minutes.

Superstore

this shows follows a bunch of retail employees that work at a ~superstore~ and it just shows how much stupidity retail workers have to deal with. It’s 4 seasons and about 30 minutes long each episode.

Parks and Recreation

If y’all haven't watched this damn show already... you dont deserve a description. watch it.

Middleditch & Schwartz

It’s a fully improvised comedy special with 3 episodes, it sounds boring but it’s the hardest I’ve laughed in an awhile. it’s crazy how they can have a 2-minute conversation with an audience member and create a whole hour-long story out of that little information they got. It’s a Netflix original and like I said, it’s 3 hour-long episodes.

Miscellaneous

Euphoria

follows the troubled life of 17-year-old girl, a drug addict fresh from rehab with no plans to stay clean. Circling in Rue's orbit are Jules, a transgender girl searching for where she belongs; Nate, a jock whose anger issues mask sexual insecurities; Chris, a football star who finds the adjustment from high school to college harder than expected; Cassie, whose sexual history continues to dog her; and Kat, a body-conscious teen exploring her sexuality. 1 season with 8 episodes that run about 50 minutes.

I Am Not Okay With This

A teenager navigates the complexities of high school, family and her sexuality while dealing with new superpowers. Each episode is about 30 minutes and it’s 1 season.

MUSIC

so my spotify can be found here and i’m gonna start this off by naming some of my favorite artists (mainly pop/rock/alternative), then at the bottom i will link the playlist of my current favorites full of individual songs that i’ve been listening to at the moment/all-time favorites.

Alessia Cara: SO UNDERRATED. some of my favorites are October, Out of Love, A Little More, Ready and Not Today

flor: they need to be bigger, their last album was one of my all-time favorite albums. some of my favorites are slow motion, never was mine, moonday, and money.

5 Seconds of Summer: this isnt surprising if you actually have paid attention but... good music. some favs are no shame, why won't you love me, high, wildflower and babylon.

Greyson Chance: his new stuff is everything. favs are Dancing Next to Me, Boots, and Shut Up.

LP: this music just makes me feel cool idk, the lower gritty voice and strong instruments are great. favs are Girls Go Wild, When We’re High, and Suspicion.

Angie McMahon: just a girl with a deep voice and an electric guitar... stunning. favs are Slow Mover, Missing Me and Pasta.

Isaac Dunbar: I don’t understand why he isnt big right now... the flavor. favs are Comme Des Garcons, Suicide (suicide tw), and Freshman Year.

The Band Camino: god their music is so good and addicting. my favs are Hush Hush, Less Than I Do, See Through and Daphne Blue.

bülow: this girl writes bangers. favs are Own Me, Puppy Love, Boys Will Be Boys and Wake Up

Carlie Hanson: all her songs get stuck in my head they're amazing. favs are WYA, Toxins, Back in My Arms, and Hazel.

Hayley Williams: if y’all havent checked out her new solo stuff... it’s amazing. favs are Dead Horse, Sudden Desire, and Why We Ever.

COIN: this band is just like... a teen movie vibe you know? some favs are Crash My Car, Hannah, Heart Eyes, and Malibu 1992.

AJR: i’ve seen people either love them or hate them... idk i like the quirky lyrics and large amount of trumpet solos. favs are Dear Winter, Birthday Party, and Sober Up.

Dermot Kennedy: i’ve talked about this man's lyrical magic before but... my god (also his voice is everything to me). my favs are Lost, Redemption, An Evening I Will Not Forget (THAT SECOND VERSE KILLS ME HE JUST RANTS), and Outgrown.

Tove Lo: it angers me more people don’t pay attention to her, she makes bop after bop. favs are Anywhere You Go, Mateo, and Mistaken.

The Driver Era: the fact this used to be a Disney group before two members split and made their own music is crazy lol. my favs are A Kiss, Nobody Knows, San Fransico, and Welcome to the End of Your Life.

The Aces: my extremely underrated indie-pop girl-group... the melodies are so catchy. favs are Daydream, Last One, and Just Like That.

Lennon Stella: nothing really to say besides the fact shes amazing. favs are Kissing Other People, Bad, Fortress, and BITCH.

Maisie Peters: her voice is so cute and soft but her lyrics are so good. favs are This is On You, In My Head, Feels Like This, and You to You.

Pale Waves: im gonna agree with the common criticism that a lot of their music sounds the same... but the sound is good so? my favs are Came in Close, Drive, Noises, and One More Time.

A R I Z O N A: idk man they're great. favs are Nostalgic, Freaking Out, Electric Touch, and Summer Days.

Sabrina Carpender: her voice... her... yes. favs are Honeymoon Fades, Pushing 20, Exhale and In My Bed.

Winnetka Bowling League: i’m fully aware this is the most indie band name you’ve ever heard, but the lyrics are too good to pass up, get ready for sad boi hours. favs are Alice, are you okay?, Something in the Air, and Sixteen.

LEON: bop after bop after bop, her voice is incredible. favs are Who You Lovin, You and I (SAINT WKND Remix), and No Goodbyes.

Winona Oak: her voice is everything and her imagery is insane. some favs are He Don’t Love Me, Control, Let Me Know, and Another Story.

Allie X: again.... why do more people no tknow about this melodic queen. favs are Regulars, Need You, and Casanova.

joan: really 80s and groovy. favs are Tokyo, Love Me Better, and Love Somebody Like You.

Oh Wonder: the most chill and beautiful music. favs are Happy, In and Out of Love and Lonely Star

girl in red: favs are bad idea!, we fell in love in october, say anything, and dead girl in the pool.

Wallows: these are, again, very 80s teen movie. favs are OK, 1980s Horror Film, Are You Bored Yet, and Sun Tan.

Favorite individual songs atm can be found on this spotify playlist!

That’s it! thank you for even bothering to read any of this! i hope you got some entertainment out of it! everyone stay home and stay safe!

#masterpost #here it FINALLY is lol #tp

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almostxinnocent · 4 years

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“Society wants to believe it can identify evil people, or bad or harmful people, but it's not practical. There are no stereotypes.” ― Ted Bundy Anyone who knows me also knows that I am a huge fan of true crime. Even knowing that, it has taken me a long time to actually write about this, or maybe just fear at re-living it over again has held me back. I figure if I don’t do it now I never will. It would be easier to simply do this as just another story. So here we go. (Part One)When I was fourteen other girls were reading Teen Beat and I was reading True Crime novels about Ken Bernardo, Jeffrey Dahmer and other serial killers no young girl should know about. So when I stumbled across the address to actually write one of them it was no surprise that I jumped on the chance.

For the sake of privacy and my sanity we will call him Mr. E. A lot of people don’t even know about it but there is a place called J-pay where you can write to inmates and see if they respond. I wanted to ensure a response so I included a couple of pictures of myself. I was fifteen and throwing modesty aside, I thought I was pretty attractive. It had been a few weeks since I had sent my first message and I rushed home each day to see if there was a response. It had become a routine for me. I quickly logged into the website and saw that I actually had a response. I had only written one person and immediately I felt like a ten year old on Christmas morning. I clicked to open it and greedily read what was inside.

“I have to say for a young girl you are not only intelligent, but beautiful as well. I would be more than happy to answer your questions but if I am going to be nice to you, you need to be nice to me too. I have a couple questions of my own.”

I read down further, scrunched my face up at some of the more personal questions like “How often do you bath” or “What does your hair smell like before a good wash” . I knew he was highly intelligent, and I was sure he would smell bullshit from a mile away. I can’t say I wasn’t nervous but it was more nervous excitement. I was going to write my reply, but hesitation got the best of me. I turned the computer off and went to drown myself in another book. When I finally did sleep I was thrown into some pretty intense nightmares. I woke up tired from the lack of good sleep I had gotten and rolled over in bed. It wasn’t unusual to remember my dreams, but this time I would rather not have. All night I had dreams of being visited by Mr. E. They seemed so real that I actually decided I would not write back at all.

After a couple nights of not having any nightmares and scolding myself for being a sissy, I gathered enough courage to write back.

“Mr. E,I would be lying if I said I wasn’t excited to see your response, even if you do ask some pretty weird questions. To show you that I will be an honest pen-pal I will answer them but first I want to ask a couple of my own. Do you ever feel sorry for what you did to the family of your victims? I already know how you feel about the girls that you killed. There are so many books written about you! What is it like not being able to be free anymore? What is your day to day like there? Do you get a lot of fan mail? Do you think I am a fan??”

I went down his list and answered all his questions, providing as little detail as possible. It did give me the creeps to think about a real life serial killer who tortured girls to death so close to my age having knowledge of my personal bathing habits and odors. Sometimes knowing someone is locked up isn’t enough, it’s wondering what they do with their time that can be unsettling. We had been writing for about four months before things started to get even more uncomfortable. Mr. E had always given me the answers that I wanted, although I tended to not ask any graphic details about his murders. Then suddenly he started to give me details on his own, some of them that I had never actually read in any of his books. I would be lying if I said that I wasn’t more jumpy than usual or that the contents of his letters were not giving me nightmares. The truth was I had been plagued by them, but I just could not stop responding.

I knew if my mother ever found out what I was doing she would probably take away my computer and everything else that provided contact with anyone in the world, and I think that was putting me on edge as well.I wanted to believe that Mr. E trusted me, but I knew his mail was being read. Since the details were just descriptions of his killing rituals and habits I guess it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he was revealing where more bodies were or anything. His personal questions started to became more intrusive too. The minute I started to feel too uncomfortable, or there was a lapse of response, I would get a kinder letter of assurance which motivated me to keep writing. I was playing a game of cat and mouse but was starting to feel I was more the mouse than cat.

Finally, in one of our conversations he asked for my address. He told me that he had a few drawings and poetry he wanted me to have. In this message he especially made it a point to compliment me and thank me for keeping him company. He told me about how most of the writing he received was from distasteful and rude women (I assumed grown-ups) that he would never consider responding to. I have to admit I was flattered and less uncomfortable but looking back I see I was being manipulated. I gave him my address. I figured being locked up forever would prevent anything bad from happening to me. I was safe, so why not? It was only a few days later that a small package arrived, and I ran upstairs before my mother could see what I had. I opened it carefully, and my heart was pounding so loud it seemed like it was coming from across the room. I almost lost my breath to be completely honest. Here I was, a teenager getting mail from a notorious serial killer! Who would believe it!

Inside the package contained two poems, with what looked like dried blood smeared across them. A lock of hair tied with what looked like some kind of frayed rope and three drawings. One of the poems went as follows; “Her lips looked like two berries. I knew I had to touch but my touch was so heavy off her face the lips I plucked I kissed the bloody space where they once used to be a beautiful and gaping hole but then she tried to flee I wrapped her up in ribbons I tied them like a bow Her mouth kept making noises So the hole I had to sew” I am sure you get the picture. In my young mind I wasn’t sure what to think, but I guess I thought it was to be expected. I wondered if there were any rules about what you could send someone so young, but then again I had never mentioned my age. I had only sent photos since you had to be eighteen to use the website. We had made an agreement that when his arrived, I would send my own. That night my nightmares were so intense that I woke sweating and feeling trapped. The next morning I cut off a lock of my own hair, pricked my finger and smeared some blood across it. I can’t explain how or why but Mr. E had some kind of hold on me. At this point you might be wondering what kind of laws they had back then about what you could or could not send into prison. I didn’t realize that we lived in a world with such liberties or restrictions. I was in a state of being embarrassed about my nightmares and thinking I was some hot shot getting details nobody else had gotten. Two more weeks went by and I did not hear from my pen-pal. I was confused and constantly checking my inbox. I wondered if what I sent had gotten him into some kind of trouble, but was more worried my mom might find out if someone from the prison contacted us. Then a week or so later, another box appeared and I once again ran upstairs to open it. I was lucky that the mail was there when I came home from school. I did not want to have to deal with a confrontation with my mom about strange boxes at our front door. I opened the box and was immediately confused. What I saw put goosebumps all over my body, not just my arms. It was almost painful. There was only a letter, and the box was too big for just a letter. That was strange enough. The letter was short itself was short. “I hope you are as excited as I am. It won’t be long now.” The more I thought about it, the less scared I was. I was actually angry. I felt like I had been betrayed. Then I realized how ridiculous that was. Why would I expect honesty from a serial killer? I bet this was his new way of getting his kicks now that he was locked up. I went to my computer and was ready to write a bunch of insults but when I got to the web page it would not load. That happened a lot, so I decided to just cut my losses and move on. I was embarrassed that I had been such an easy target, so even weeks later I never told my friends and obviously not my mother.One night I was out with my best friend and we went to our favorite spot, the playground. Yeah, I know. Juvenile, but it was the best place at night because it was private and nobody bothered you. After the usual talk about boys at school, and general gossip we decided it was time to head home. My mother was almost always gone on the weekends, and it happened to be the weekend my little brother and sister weren’t at home with me either. I tried to convince Lilly to spend the night but she said her dad would freak out since she basically spent every weekend at my house anyways. This meant flicking through television channels until I got frustrated enough to read a book and then go to sleep.My walk back home was short but it seemed like the perfect time for my mind to start thinking about Mr. E. It bothered me that I was so foolish and even though I knew I had nothing to be scared of I still felt a little jumpy when I was turning the corner onto my street. I finally got home and shut and locked the door and let out a deep sigh. It felt like I had been holding my breath. I had to laugh at myself as I walked upstairs to start a boring routine of spending a Saturday night alone. My little yorkie Koby was running around my legs wagging his stub tail excitedly. I picked him up and opened my bedroom door. “Hello pal, I told you it wouldn’t be much longer.” I felt dizzy and nauseous at the same time but I could not move. It felt like the entire room tilted. I stood there trying to process what was happening. He made no attempt to move from the bed. He was holding one of my stuffed animals in his hands. I kept telling myself this wasn’t real, it was another dream. This wasn’t him. This was not happening. This wasn’t him. The voice inside my head became more frantic and I put my hands on both my ears. I felt like I was losing my mind because there could not possibly be a man sitting on my bed, holding my stuffed animal. “Don’t be upset, I know I’m not who you are looking for but I promise I can give you much more than some man stuck in a cell could anyway. We have so much to talk about. I knew you were the one when you sent that hair back to me. I said to myself, here is a girl who isn’t afraid to do things out of the ordinary.” His voice was vibrating though me. I knew my only way to get out of this would be to either do what he said, or make him think I would. At the same time that thought was going through my head I also realized there was no way I was going to talk my way out of this. This wasn’t Mr. E, and this wasn’t a nightmare. I could tell this man was very tall from the height of him simply sitting there. His black hair was straight. He looked ordinary. He didn’t look like a monster at all. “How?....” I barely said the words as if speaking too loud might cause him to do something. “Well, I could insult your intelligence for not making sure the website you were using was actually the real website, but most of you young ones usually don’t bother. Let’s just say you were never writing to who you thought you were and start fresh.” All the terrible details from his letter came back to me. The way he stalked the girls, kidnapped them and then held for days while they were tortured. Like dolls, he played with them until they were no longer breathing.

“I thought I could trust you.” I whispered, still frozen in my place. I could attempt to run but he would just catch me on the stairs as I tried to go down. There wasn’t any feasible way to get away.

“Oh you can trust me. I never lied to you did I? Now come over here and sit on my lap and I will tell you all the fun things we will do together. I know you like the park, did you want to go back and swing on the swings again? You looked so fresh with your skirt flying up your legs.”

I shook my head and back into my doorway which was at the exact moment that he lunged at me. The fact that he had been watching me made me feel violated enough. I didn’t even bother to take time to think about how long he had been watching me but now assumed it was from the moment I sent him my actual address.

I let out a startled yelp as we both landed on the ground. He was quick and before I knew it he had my arms over my head was straddling me. He leaned down for a kiss but I kept twisting my head back and forth with tears streaming down my face. “Please don’t let him kiss me, please.” I begged God inside my mind to make it go away.

The next thing I knew he slapped me so hard across my face that I was seeing everything in two’s with blurred lines. I was no longer frantically twisting, but slowly going back and forth, still reeling from the hand that had rocked me. I was so dazed I could barely feel his mouth drooling on mine until he sharply bit down on my lip. It was so hard I came out of my daze screaming as loudly as I could before he clamped his hand over my lips and shook his head.

“There will be plenty of time for that.”

#serial killers #writing #short stories #horror #scary #true crime #true crime stories #goosebumps #stalkers #teenage #nightmare #nightmares #jeffrey dahmer #ted bundy #paul bernardo #kidnapping #scary stories #horror stories

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horrorslashergirl · 4 years

Text

Interview with a slasher groupie

Have you heard about Hybristophilia? No? Here’s a quick explanation.

Hybristophilia is a type of paraphilia in which a person “gets sexually aroused over someone else committing an offensive or violent act,” says Katherine Ramsland, PhD, a professor of forensic psychology at DeSales University.

This is an interview with a woman who found herself intrigued at hallucinating points with slashers and maniac from horror movies. She liked to stay anonymous. I am the one that interviewed her and I will address myself with the pseudonym Abigal Rockwood.

Rockwood: Where do you think all of this started? Been fascinated with these killers from horror movies?

Anonymous: I think it started at a young age, probably in my teen years when I was watching the 80s horror movies with slashers. I always loved this sub-genre. It seemed more realistic than the horror movies with ghosts, monsters and all the supernatural. It makes you feel like this could get real, you know? My favorite at the time was Scream with the Ghostface killer.

Rockwood: What were you feeling when you watched the movies?

Anonymous: At that time I was a little scared, but as I repeatedly watched the movies I looked more into the deeps of the antagonist, observing his behaviors, habits; the way they moved, everything. At some point I was feeling ever a little excited, imagine myself into these movies.

Rockwood: What do you find attractive about these antagonists? Do you even realize they are maniacs that can murder you if they were real?

Anonymous: *Chuckles* Yes, I do indeed realize this fact, that's why I love them. They are not real, so they cannot hurt me. Correct? And about attraction? Lets take a quick image of what the usual slasher looks like in a horror movie. He's tall, broad and enigmatic, not necessarily handsome because we cannot see his face, but that's where the attraction comes. The mystery.

Rockwood: Why do you think other women are attracted to fictional slashers?

Anonymous: I simply think they are not your average next door type of guy. You don't find a man like that on a blind date. If we ask just normally what we look for in a guy we might think of the type 'Someone tall, smart, charming as in personality'. That's the Alpha male that we women are instinctively attracted to. The slashers from these movies are the perfect epitome of an Alpha male.

Rockwood: Can we say you are attracted to real-life serial killers?

Anonymous: Now, I watched documentaries about Ted Bundy and I cannot call myself a fan of Zac Efron. *laughs* No. I think the word would be fascinated, but an attraction like 'I wanna marry that guy', definitely no. That's where I personally cross the line. I would prefer Hannibal Lecter over Bundy any day.

Rockwood: Who is your slasher crush?

Anonymous: Oho...That's a tough question because see, we don't settle for one. I cannot simply choose between Michael Myers and Jason Voorhees. We switch depending on the mood between the slashers because the fantasies are unlimited.

Rockwood: Have you found yourself aroused by these slashers?

Anonymous: On all the basics every day. Yes. Call us all masochistic, but that's the truth. Some people are aroused by dressing up as a kitten, others get them off by watching the neighbor sexy bimbo swimming in the pool naked. We get our kicks off by these slasher men.

Rockwood: What subconsciously triggers this attraction?

Anonymous: We might think that if these slashers really would exit they would spare us because we are special to them. All that yada yada. I think we might get ourselves a little narcissistic, thinking that we might be special than the other victims. Probably because we are self-conscious? It is a possibility.

Rockwood: In the end, it's just a fantasy, right?

Anonymous: Sadly I guess, yes. It's our little escape world where we picture ourselves with the slashers and if we don't like where the scene is going, we cut it off and we start over again. That's the fun part. Other picture themselves with their favorite celebrity, we picture ourselves with murderous slasher maniacs.

#Hybristophilia #horror movies #slashers #interview with a slasher groupie

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imaginesilenthill · 3 years

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Omg yeah I feel that abt silent hill 2… like yeah it was good!! But every time I talk to someone about silent hill they’re always like omg two is my favorite two is my favorite blbllb. And I totally respect that people have their preference and favorites! I don’t look down on anyone for that! But it just. Gets redundant. And then they kind of forget about the other silent hill games and it makes me pretty sad. I think the fact that it didn’t have much to do with the order kind of put me off. I’d label SH2 more as a spin off than a main game tbh. Also I hate James lol. OH AND ANOTHER THINg!! Someone who’s into dbd made a post about Heather saying she has like no personality and that she’s (jokingly) a terrible woman who ruins everything (something about dbd power ups, I don’t know I didn’t play the game) but it just INFURIATED ME CUZ HEATHER WAS A VICTIM!!! and she has SO much personality in the third SH game! I don’t even know if they played it smfh. I’d honestly, without any bias, say that she has a wider range of emotions than any of the other silent hill protags, she was written beautifully… I’m just mad that the dbd devs added her in DBD after ALL the suffering she went through as Alessa, not being able to live her life as Cheryl, being on the run from the Order her whole life, losing her loving dad and then killing ugly ass God… AND THEN in the dbd universe it was just. All for nothing. Now she’s in purgatory forever??? Hideous. Just hideous. Then P head is there. Wtf????? Masahiro Ito said his damn self that PHead is James’ monster and that he hates how PHead is just a cash cow for everything that’s SH. My god. My friend was like “dbd can’t add James with pyramid head because they don’t add two monsters at a time” LMFAOOOOO. But honestly, considering In Water or Rebirth, either of those could have led james into the Entity’s Realm I think. But since he killed ahem, you know who, I doubt the dbd devs wanted to stir up any controversy. Also I think all the survivors would kill him. SLIGHT SPOILER FOR ANYONE HERE WHO HASNT PLAYED SH3>>>: after you know who dies, Heather later is in the other world and there’s a room that she notes looks exactly like his. And on the bed is his notebook… and on the floor are bloody footprints walking away from the bed… it makes me think… is he now in purgatory? I mean of course i assume it was just the SH crew adding their typical psychological stuff, <<<END SPOILER. but it makes me think… what if he was in DBD? But who would be his monster? Not god obviously. Smfh. It just made me think. Also there’s that twisted fucking psycle path K Pop star (he’s cute) and he is obviously a human… so it kind of made me come up with a funny idea… imagine WALTER in DBD!! I think it would be so funny if he appeared in a match, and all the survivors are like huh, there are five survivors here, who’s the new guy? Then they see his gun, and he aims it at them. And they’re like oH SHIT—!!!! Also idk If you got my old ask but apparently SH2 takes place in the late 70s/early 80s and I have this whole thing pondering the timeline, if you still have that you can post it, I think I was anon at the time. SORRY FOR THE LONG ASS RANT. ALSO ON FB FOR SOME REASON IT SHOWED ME YOUR RECENT POST WHERE YOU GOR YOUR DEGREE OR SOMETHING, CONGRATS DEAR!! (We follow each other on Instagram so I think that’s how I saw ur post? Sorry if it seemed invasive )

Yeah, I just... I get so exhausted with the SH2-purist side of the fandom and I think that exhaustion bleeds into James. I don’t get people’s affection for him, in the same way I don’t get why people look at Actual Serial Killer Ted Bundy and go “Yeah, he’s hot.” Like, dude, no. James killed his wife because he couldn’t take the strain of being a caretaker, missed the “spark” from Mary before she was sick, knew she could probably never get it back, and felt like she was suffering. And instead of going to therapy, getting therapy with her, literally anything else, James decided he was going to booze it up (he talks about it in the hotel bar), kill Mary, and then have the brass balls to feel bad about it. The gross thing is that I genuinely think he did love Mary; he wouldn’t have been so torn up about her death if he wasn’t in love with her at some point. James just frustrates me as a person, because I have a partner and I love her, and the idea of killing her because she wants to die makes me ill. But sure; lets UwU at James. I would never dream of telling someone “You can’t like James because I don’t like James” but I will gladly say “It’s great that you like him, but James exhausts me emotionally.”

As for the Heather thing, I was helping to co-run SH Fogposting when that nightmare was going down. I like the idea of Heather being in DBD, since Konami isn’t doing anything with her. But her character model looks awful (par for the course in DBD, I know) and I think having anything that doesn’t belong to Behavior Interactive in the game (so all the movie monsters) is just fanfiction. I don’t count it as canon, I won’t unless someone from Team Silent says it is, and I probably won’t take DBD into account when writing unless someone specifically asks about Heather interacting with other characters in the game.

I think I got that ask, but I don’t remember knowing what to say to it beyond “Yeah, you’re right” and I wanted to save it until I had something constructive to add to it. I don’t think I will though, so I’ll probably just post it now.

(And thank youuu! It’s definitely not invasive at all! <3)

#answered asks #my opinion #other people’s opinions

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xxgoblin-dumplingxx · 4 years

Text

In Tatters: Two

Steve walked next to Bucky, their hands laced together. It felt good. The sun was shining, and Spring was finally here. And this, right here, he reflected, squeezing Bucky’s hand, was one of his favorite things about this time.

Affection wasn’t limited to dark corners or their apartment. They could hold hands. They could steal a kiss sometimes. It was just lovely. Comfortable. As they walked into the coffee shop looking for a snack and to find Bucky a coffee drink he might like, what he didn’t expect was for the shop to be mostly empty. He glanced down at his watch and nodded. It was after the morning rush but before the afternoon rush. Later then, he’d thought.

But then, they’d gotten distracted earlier in the bathroom. And one thing had lead to another. And well. It had been a good morning. Good enough, at least that Bucky had let himself be dragged to another coffee shop. Another coffee shop, another try to find a drink he liked beyond Black coffee. Another chance to pander to Bucky’s sweet tooth.

Still, neither of them expect to find one. And neither of them expect it when a girl breezes through the door.

Her hair is bound up in a messy bun, fly aways escaping and falling to frame a heart-stoppingly pretty face. Below that, a series of fashion choices. Thick combat boots, a knee-length hunter green pleated skirt, a black and white flannel tied around her waist, and a black t-shirt bearing the word “Killjoys” in red script handwriting. Cute. Modern. But Cute, they decide with a glance at each other. But she didn’t seem terribly interested in talking.

“You’re late,” one of the baristas called over the counter.

“I know, but I had a script to finish and then an episode to edit,” she says, yawning, “I haven’t even been home yet.”

“Did you sleep at all?” she asked.

“No, so do me a favor? Like three shots in that hippie.”

“Oh my god.”

“What? If my heart blows out of my chest, the hospital is like right around the corner.”

“Y/n,” she scolds, sliding you your pastry and taking your bank card.

“Eh, ‘s not like I’m using it anyway. Maybe a drag queen can soak it in formaldehyde and made a nice headpiece.”

That makes Bucky snort. Loudly enough that you turn around and give him a wink, “See, he gets it!” you tell the girl.

“Still, this much caffeine has GOT to be a liability. Ya, cryptid,” she says, handing you the cup.

“Yeah? Well, until I figure out who I’ve gotta blow to not do retail anymore, espresso and hope are all I got,” you say, giving her a mock salute and turning to stroll out the door.

“Hey,” the girl yells right as you’re at the doorway.

You half- turn with a ‘what?’ gesture.

“Tell Donny I need him to order me a new Lagoon Blue. And an Indigo Blonde.”

You nod and lope out, coffee in hand, and Steve and Bucky look at each other. They liked that. You were fucking feral, but still sweet. What they didn’t like was hearing a kid behind the counter say, “Fuck, she can blow me if she wants. I need a sugar baby.”

“With what fucking money?” the blue-haired girl asked, “She’s not gonna blow you unless your dick is gold plated, and you ejaculate chocolate. Not for no tip money and a coffee.”

__________

Bucky and Steve have a new favorite coffee shop after that. At first, they come in, hoping to catch a glimpse of you. Figure out your schedule. But they always seem to just miss you. It’s disheartening but, at least the coffee is good, and the kids behind the counter are funny.

Still. Even just the chance of seeing you is enough to keep them coming back. It keeps them wanting more.

So when you waltz through the door carrying with you the smell of a coming storm and for some inexplicable reason, a Chia Pet of Bob Ross, neither of them can breathe for a second. Your skirt, has sloths on in and your shirt is a white men’s button-down, A floppy sun hat shades your face. “Your usual, your highness?” A barista asked, grinning, clearly teasing you.

“I told you, Ivy. If drunk me does things, Sober me was not in the driver's seat and can’t be held accountable.”

“How’s your ankle?” she giggles.

“Not too bad after jumping off a third-story balcony,” you admit, putting a cellophane-wrapped cookie on the counter.

Behind you, Steve and Bucky trade bemused looks. Your night had probably been a lot more interesting than theirs.

“What happened to Tinder Boy?” she asked.

“Oh my god. Ive. He lived with his mother and had unironic rocket ship sheets. I am not trying to do some Bates Motel shit.”

“It couldn’t be that bad.”

You sigh, “No joke, she walked in on us making out because like. I was gonna give him the benefit of the doubt because I, too, am broke as shit. But like. She told us to hurry up so she could come back and tuck him in when he was done.”

“No,” she gasped.

“Yeah. So... pretty sure I’m lucky I left that house with both kidneys.”

You yawn, and she hands you a coffee with a sympathetic smile, “It was your first date since Pash, though.”

“And it was creepy enough that I’m not dating ever again. No joke. Just gonna adopt a herd of yappy little dogs and be single forever,” you tell her, taking a sip.

“We just have to find you someone really hot,” she pressed.

“Can you put some brains in there for me this time? Test drives are entertaining, but I’d like to be able to carry on a conversation without my uterus cringing in fear.”

“That’s fair,” she said, picking up the chia pet, “Is this mine?”

“Yeah,” you say, “You know. Since Joey and I broke your other one.”

Her face lights up, and your smile, “Thanks!” she says, not waiting for a reply before scurrying to the back to put it away.

You find an empty table in a patch of sunshine and sit down, watching people out the window. You like a slow start to your day. Some time to adjust to being awake. You’re blissfully oblivious to anything but the warmth of the cup in your hands. You don’t notice Steve and Bucky trying to work up the guts to come to talk to you. But when their bulky frames block out the sunshine that you’d been enjoying, you aren’t exactly disappointed.

When you look up, guarded but still smiling a little, Bucky feels his heart skip, and he knows Steve does too. You have pretty eyes and plump, juicy red lips. They have a soft spot for that kind of thing. “Yeah?” you ask, taking a sip of coffee.

“We couldn’t help overhearing about your last date,” Steve said, grinning.

“And do you want his number?” you counter mildly.

Bucky snorted, “No, but yours might be nice,” he said, “It’d be a damn shame if you didn’t give anyone else a chance.”

You cock your head and smile a little as you assess them, “So, you expect me to believe that Captain America and Bucky Barnes are interested in me?”

Steve takes a seat at your table, and Bucky follows suit, “Why not?”

“Because you don’t know anything about me,” you remind them, “I could be a psycho.”

“We know you’re funny.” Bucky said, “And I doubt you’re a psycho. Too many social skills.”

“Ted Bundy had social skills,” you counter.

When they look confused, you sigh, “Serial Killer,” you explain.

“Listen,” Steve said, smiling, “All we want is one date. A test drive if you will.”

When you smirk, Bucky gets a distinct impression that “test drive” doesn’t mean a date.

“A test drive, huh?” you say trying not to giggle. Your polite euphemism for a one-night stand sounds incredibly strange coming from Captain America. “We’ll see,” you stand up and pull a card from your bag easily, “Pick me up at 8?”

Bucky takes the card. It has your name and number on it. As well as an email. Apparently, it’s your card for freelance editing, writing, and photography. It was good to know you had gumption. You had to if you had enough money to live.

“Yeah?” Steve said, grinning.

“I’ve made worse choices on a Saturday night,” you tease waltzing back out of the shop with your coffee in hand.

“Steve?” Bucky said slowly.

“Yeah Buck?” he answered

“What are we gonna wear?”

There was a silence as the gears ground to a halt in Steve’s head and he sighed, “Fuck.”

Tags:

@past-perfect-future-tense, @lookinsidemyhead, @rinkashirikitateku, @dumbubblegum

#Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #stuckyxreader #fluff #banter #poly stucky

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disappearinginq · 4 years

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for the writers ask thing: (3) What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway) AND (6) What character do you have the most fun writing?

Hilariously, the first one is a Prodigal Son scene between the team (specifically JT) and I just wanted a...merger? scene between beginning season JT & Malcolm, where they just like to harass one another, to basically an embodiment of the Kink!Tomato explanation. I like that they’re not cozy with each other, but they go from purposefully hurtful banter to just off beat teasing, and I had a scene where that was spelled out. I wonder if I can find it...or possibly actually getting around to writing the fic that i wrote three lines of dialogue for when @rohanrider3 gave me a prompt for it. As for most fun -ooo. Hmm. Snarky ones. And family relations. I think one of my favorite things to write was between Bellamy and Kane for Left Behind, despite not watching the show for years now, and that fic sits languishing in writing purgatory.

And I really, really love to write unexpectedly smart/badass characters (or make canon characters into unexpectedly smart/badass characters, because no one can prove I’m wrong). Edit: FOUND THE PRODIGAL SON THING.

“No, JT, really, I want to know,” Malcolm snapped, holding his hand out – steadier than JT could remember ever seeing it – jabbing accusatorily at him. “What exactly was I supposed to do? Hmm? If you know, I’d love to hear it, because I haven’t got a fucking clue. I’m a bit of an outlier, you see – people aren’t good with things they can’t categorize. They want to stuff you in a box whether you fit or not, and I’m guessing as a Hispanic male combat veteran, there’s a couple boxes people like to tick off for you, right? Suicidal. PTSD. Temper problems. Into drugs and alcohol. Anyone ever tell you you’re a ticking time bomb, just waiting to go off?”

JT didn’t answer – it was rhetorical and both of them knew it. Veterans today had a rate of suicide comparable to WWII, and instead of trying to curb the trend by digging deeper to find out why, Washington just swept it under the rug – denied treatment, refused disability claims, shoved people out on the street like Monday morning garbage. The only time people cared enough to even Google the statistics were November 11th and the last Monday in May.

“Oh look,” Malcolm barreled on. “Finally, something we have in common. We don’t like it when people try to shove us in boxes to make us something we’re not. But you know what? You’re at least not alone. You can feel it, and it can seem it, but you’re not – one point three million people in our military, odds are at least one of them feels like you. Can understand what you’ve been through, why you are the way you are. Wanna know how many serial killers had kids? Huh?”

Malcolm’s pointed finger became a splay of five.

“Five. In the last half century, with their kids still alive today – five. Six kids total. Ted Bundy’s daughter has vanished so completely not even the FBI knows who or where she is. Dennis Rader’s kids? His daughter fucking wrote him a letter forgiving him for what he did and that she ‘hoped to see him in Heaven one day’ and that she still loved him, and her brother told the newspapers that despite killing ten people in utterly horrific ways, he was a good dad. And nobody comes close to the Surgeon’s body count – maybe the ones he was convicted for, but not what he’s suspected of.”

“Look, Bright, I – ” JT tried to cut in. Bright’s glare stopped him midsentence.

“No, no, no, no, you don’t get to derail this train now,” Malcolm snapped. “Not when you’re the one who keeps looking at me like I’m only one conviction away from being Martin Whitly’s sequel because I’m good at my job. And you know what, literally anyone else who is a profiler, or a criminal psychologist, or even a forensic psychologist is supposed to try and interpret the criminal mind, but I don’t see you avoiding Dr. Tanaka. My father was the monster, not me. I was fucking ten years old when I turned him in. All the other Serial Killer Kids were adults when the police found out their fathers were killers, but I don’t see the FBI keeping tabs on them, waiting for them to pick up where Dear Old Dad left off. So why me? Because I annoy you? Because it bothers you that because I can’t solve my own problems, I try to solve others? I have twenty three lives that were cut short because of the Surgeon that I have to make up for, and yeah, there’s only so many ways I can atone for my father’s sins.”

JT wasn’t the only one who noticed the change in Malcolm’s voice as he almost choked on the word father in relation to Martin, his already pale features turning slightly green at the mention of being related to the Surgeon.

“Since you seem to have all the answers, why don’t you clue the rest of us in? Hmm?” Malcolm threw his hands wide to encompass the whole room. “What should I be doing that would make you believe that I am not my father’s son?”

Dani shifted in her chair, looking like she’d rather be anywhere but here, but gave him a side-eyed glare that clearly stated she was actually on Bright’s side for this one. Gil hadn’t said a word the entire argument, but then, if he’d known Malcolm since the day he’d turned in Martin, then he’d probably heard it more than once.

Malcolm must’ve said it more than once, because that was a lot of statistics to rattle off that fast.

JT sighed, picking up a pen and tapping it against the notepad just to have something to do with his hands as he met Malcolm’s eyes.

“It’s not what you think,” JT said. “It…” he considered his next words, weighing the sound of them in his head before he said them aloud. “I think you’re so good at this, it’s killing you.”

Whatever response Malcolm had braced himself for – because that’s exactly what he was doing, keeping his hands firmly over his chest, hunching slightly like he was expecting a physical blow – that wasn’t it. The kid’s eyebrows almost shot into his hairline before they narrowed back in suspicion, and JT couldn’t really blame him.

“I knew these guys – combat guys, all of them. Saw some serious shit over in Syria. Afghanistan. Iraq. You name the shit storm, they were in it, boots on the ground. They didn’t fare much better than you. Nightmares. Depression. The twitchy hands. The mania. The insomnia. Insisting they were fine.” He absently let the pen in his hand doodle across the notepad, and he watched as Malcolm’s gaze couldn’t help but flicker towards the movement more than keep JT’s gaze. “Hyper vigilant. Some of them saw counselors, but you know how that goes…seeing them doesn’t mean they followed their advice. Sometimes it’s just a band aid on a bullet hole. A couple of them got jobs where they thought they could do some good – use those skills, those…habits, at work. Thought it gave them an edge. Kept them vigilant.”

JT clicked the pen, putting it down as he leaned forwards, his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers as he caught Malcolm’s piercing gaze. “It burned them out. One put a gun in his mouth Christmas Eve in his basement while his kids were asleep upstairs. The other one stepped in front of train during the morning commute. The other one gave himself a heart attack – he’s the one that lived. And you may not believe me, Bright, but I don’t want that to be you on the evening news. You may be good at this job, but I think it’s bad for you. Trying to make up for things you had no control over, keeping some tally in that head of yours of if the life you saved is equal to the one he took. That’s not healthy, and if your stupid habit of haring off after murderers without backup doesn’t kill you, then this life will. I don’t think you’re anything like the Surgeon, because if you were, this wouldn’t bother you at all, instead of eating you alive from the inside out.”

The room was quiet enough you could hear a pin drop.

Dani shot him her half smile reserved for special occasions and people she particularly approved of. Gil’s expression was still hidden by his hand over his mouth, but JT realized he wasn’t looking at him – probably hadn’t been for most of the conversation.

He was watching Malcolm.

Malcolm who was completely silent.

He didn’t think Bright did silent. He pretty much non-stop jabbered on, even when he wasn’t supposed to. Perhaps even especially when he wasn’t supposed to.

And now that piercing blue stare was levelled straight at him, and JT fought the urge to fidget under the intensity of it.

Malcolm’s eyes widened slightly, a funny little gasp that would’ve made more sense coming from someone who’d just had ice water dumped down their back passing between suddenly parted lips as he pulled his head back as if physically slapped. “You’re…not lying.”

JT frowned, glancing over at Gil who was still zeroed in on Malcolm. The older man hadn’t decided if this was good or bad, which put JT even more on edge.

“No, I’m not lying. Why would I lie about something like that?” He tried to catch Gil’s attention without getting even more of Malcolm’s, but the older detective ignored him.

#asks answered #games we play #prodigal son #prodigal son fic #sort of #one day maybe #malcolm bright #jt tarmel

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runningxscared · 3 years

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ac#001

1. What is your favorite Halloween treat? 😈

My favorite Halloween treat is the Reese's Peanut Butter Pumpkins. The peanut butter to chocolate ratio is spooktacular. Also, I’m a nerd for the Caramel Apple Pops.

2. Who is your favorite real life serial killer? 👻

I have an unhealthy obsession with serial killers and could never select only one. Therefore, my top three serial killers are Ted Bundy, Ed Gein and Jeffrey Dahmer. In no particular order.

3. Favorite horror movie villain? 🎃

Ugh, there are so many quality horror movie villains, but I’m going to go with Ghostface. Followed by Freddy Krueger.

4. If you could be any supernatural being, what would you be and why? 💀

Fairy. They’re magical af and the brattiest. TinkerBell, in particular, is my spirit animal.

5. Who, in Mile High City, do you think would die first in a horror flick and why? 💋

Vivian by default. Sorry! I could totally see her going into the basement instead of out the front door, or get lost in the attic she can’t find.

6. What do you want to be for Halloween? 🧠

His. jk Uhm, I’m going as TinkerBell, so I’ll stick with that.

7. Do you believe in ghosts? 🦇

100%.

8. Have you had any supernatural experiences? 🩸

Obviously. I’m gifted. Everyone knows that. My most recent experience was in my bathroom last night. However, you don’t want to know. Trust me.

9. Do you prefer painting or carving pumpkins? 🕷

Carving!!! Playing with knives is my shit. Although, painting sounds rad! Both???

10. Candy Corn; hit or miss? 🔪

MISS!

11. Have you ever played with a Ouija board? 😈

Surprisingly, I have not. I have no interest either. My gifts allow me to summon more than enough without involving that wicked board.

12. Favorite 'spooky' song? 👻

The list is ENDLESS, and this likely doesn’t qualify but idgaf.

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13. Which urban legend scares you the most? 🎃

I’m not scared of it now, but I was terrified of Bloody Mary as a child.

14. You're home alone and hear footsteps in your house. What do you do? 💀

Honestly? Probably scream at Eli to “Shut up!”

15. Do you have to watch something happy after a scary movie to fall asleep? 💋

Not at all. In fact, I watch scary movies in order to fall asleep at night.

16. In a zombie apocalypse, what is your weapon of choice? 🧠

Baseball Bat. Just call me Harley Quinn.

17. Name something you wouldn't want to run into in a dark forest or abandoned building? 🦇

I don’t know...a practicing cult?

18. Do you believe in multiple dimensions or world? 🩸

Who doesn’t?

19. Do you get scared easily? 🕷

Not at all, but I’ll act scared in exchange for cuddles tbh.

20. Are you the one who gets scared, or the one who does the scaring? 🔪

Do you want to find out...or...

#* / activity check #* / ac001

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justjessame · 4 years

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If Only Someone Looked At Me Like They Look At Guns 4

“Tess,” Murphy’s voice called, drawing me back to the living room and the two half-naked Irish men I was standing between.

“Yer alright, Tess?” Connor asked.

I blushed, hot and red to the roots of my wet hair. Jesus, these two. “I’m fine.” I gestured to their naked chests and cleared my dry throat. “I don’t need show and tell. Just tell.” They shared another of their looks and I snapped. “OUT LOUD!”

Both were chuckling now. Connor looked down at me. “‘Tis jist dat, we’re not sure where all da scars are.”

Murphy nodded, pulling my attention back to him with his corroboration. “Yeah, ‘ad dem fer so long, not sure without checkin’.”

“Checking for ticks.” I muttered to myself with a smirk. They both looked down at me curiously. “Sorry, something I heard a lot of back home from boys like the two of you.” I giggled at the sight of them looking at me like fish waiting to be hooked. “Nevermind. If you two are confused about the placement and number of your scars, take it to the guest room. I’ll wait here.” I pointed them down the hallway.

“Wha if we miss somethin’?” Connor asked, mischievously.

Murphy agreed, eyes twinkling. “Seen each other so much, al’ looks da same.”

“Saints?” I raised my eyebrows in disbelief these two had ever conned anyone into that belief. “More like demons.” I groaned. I had asked, after all. If I backed down, they’d know I was uncomfortable, and they’d be merciless in the teasing. I could just fucking tell. “Fine. STOP!” They had reached for their belts again when I agreed. “Topside first. Have to be fucking thorough.”

I ignored their grins. Fine, I thought, I could play this game. Damn demons. I turned to Murphy first. Looking into his eyes and forcing myself to smile. Teasing is it? Well enjoy this. I ran my hand down his right arm to take his hand in mine. I slid my fingers over his tattoos, stopping at the scars of red around his wrist. “One.” I counted, running my fingers up his arm like I was taking careful stock. The Celtic cross was intricate on his forearm. I kept my gaze on his skin, carefully turning his arm over for an inspection of the underside. Up to the right side of his neck, keeping my smirk to myself when his breath caught at the feeling of my fingertips on the sensitive skin. I turned his neck to the right to check the left side. Mother Mary’s silhouette stared down at me and for a moment I felt guilt. Shrugging, I continued on. My breath caught when I found a burned mark that was clearly masking another bullet wound. “Two.” I breathed. Tracing the rough skin for a moment before moving on, down the left arm, to the wrist where I saw the same reddening as the right wrist. “Three.” My inspection continued, rolling his arm so I could check the underside. Convinced the arms and neck were finished, I moved to his chest. Over his left chest was the name “Norman” in cursive, it made me curious, but I didn’t linger. Fingertips moving down as both upper chest sides were checked, I felt his abdominal muscles tighten as I skimmed down to where his jeans hung low on his hips. “Turn around?” I asked, feeling slightly breathless myself. He did as I asked, and I was confronted by the bottom half of Christ on the cross. I bet myself I knew where the top portion would be found. My hands roamed his defined back checking as carefully as I had the front. “So three, Murphy.” I answered, stepping back. I bit my lip when he turned and I noticed his eyes were darker, so very dark. “At least on the top half.”

“Is it my tern?” Connor asked, his voice husky. Clearly watching me paw his brother affected him.

I turned to him and nodded. “Have to make sure the tally is correct.” I stepped to him and began the same careful exploration. Starting on his left side, taking his dominant hand in mine and working up the same journey, only mirrored. I kept the exact same pressure on him that I had on Murphy, they were twins after all. Lightly checking over each arm, taking the same time to touch the sides of his neck. Having the same flash of guilt run through me when I encountered Mary on his left side of his neck. Feeling him gulp under the careful touch of his Adam’s apple, tilting his head to the left so I could check the right side. Down his right arm, to the hand, with a careful flip to make sure nothing was missed underneath. I pouted. “Connor, I’m not sure you have ANY scars on you.” I moved carefully to his back and smiled, having won my bet. There He was Christ's top half of the crucifiction. A thorough examination of Connor’s back confirmed my first theory. “You have no scars, Connor.” I came back around to stand between them. “That was a dirty trick.” I glared at them.

“Ye done already?” Connor teased.

Murphy piped in, having clearly regained their composure. “Tink we still ‘av bit o’ skin left unchecked.”

Damn them both, how had they just moved along. I was certain I’d affected them both at least a little. Fine then. Let’s keep fucking going. I gestured to their pants. “Then let’s get on with it.” I rolled my eyes, trying to look bored.

Dueling grins met me as their hands went to their belts. In unison they unbuckled them, flicking the buttons free, and the zippers sounded horribly loud as they lowered them. I shut my eyes for a blink and opened them as they shucked their pants on my floor. Thank God they were wearing boxers, I thought, feeling like I’d probably combust if they hadn’t been.

I cleared my throat and started with Connor this time. I realized I’d have to kneel in front of them to make it the same as with the top half and nearly died of shame. Too late to back out now, fuck. I kneeled in front of Connor and thought it best to NOT look up. I started at his left ankle. I hated feet and couldn’t care if one of their toes were missing, they had to remember something like that. Tracing my fingers up his ankle, up his calf, over his knee, I felt him twitch as I went slowly. Good, I thought, teach you not to fuck with me. Up his thigh, ignoring his boxers, and crouching to look at the back. My hands made the same trip down the back of his thigh, the back of his knee, and down his calf to his ankle. “I’m going to be truly pissed off if there isn’t a mark on you, Connor MacManus.” I growled, coming back around to his front. I heard him give a throaty chuckle, but ignored him. My hands wrapping around his right ankle and beginning the same trek. At the top of his right thigh I was FINALLY rewarded. A puckered rough scar like his brother’s clearly used fire of some soft to burn the wound. “One.” I said, gritting my teeth. I moved to the backside, and went back down to his ankle. Standing up to face him and I could feel the heat rolling off my face. “ONE. You couldn’t remember ONE fucking scar?!”

“‘Tis been eight years, easy ter forget.” He was grinning and I fought the urge to smack him.

Turning to Murphy, who was fast becoming my favorite twin, I lowered myself to my knees in front of him. I heard a little woosh of breath leave him and I could almost believe that they were having another one of their internal dialogues. I was terrified to even contemplate the conversation this time, so I left it. Starting with Murphy’s right ankle I moved along the same tortuous path. Nothing was found along the path I traveled and I was starting to rethink his place as my favorite twin. Around the back of his right leg, nothing again. I felt like pinching him. Instead I sighed and moved to the front of his left leg. “Murphy, I swear there had better be some kind of fucking mark on your legs or I’m going to give you one.” Up his ankle, over the knee, until I found SOMETHING on his thigh. “What kind of knot is this?” I asked, not looking up, but happy I found something.

Murphy’s voice sounded a bit strained as my fingers ran over the knot. “Shield,” he cleared his throat, “‘tis a shield knot.”

“Ah,” I answered, moving along the rest of his thigh, and going around the back. Return trip down to his ankle found nothing else. “So,” I said, rising as gracefully to my feet as I could. “That’s three for Murphy, and one for Connor.” They both wiggled their feet inside their socks. “Ugh, I could care less about your feet. I figure that if you’ve lost toes, you’d both remember that.” Gross. Feet. Blech.

I looked at the two of them and they were grinning like fools. “What?” I asked, staring at them in turn. I shrugged and fell back on the sofa, picking up my book. Acting like I wasn’t the least bit affected by two almost completely naked Irishmen standing in front of me.

“Yer lucky brudder,” Connor’s voice broke the silence.

“‘Ow’s dat?” Murphy asked, I could feel them staring at me.

Connor chuckled, kicking his jeans off his feet as Murphy did the same. “Thot she was gonna bite me, jus ter give me a scar.”

They came and dropped down on either side of me, while I steadfastly ignored them. Dumbasses. “Tank Bejasus I ‘av dat tattoo on me thigh.” Murphy said, from my right.

I shook my head, and reread the sentence I’d just attempted. By the third go, I was nearly ready to toss the book across the room. Damn it. They were just too fucking close. I could feel the heat from their bodies, and they had the nerve to sit here in their boxers like it was no big deal. Ugh.

“Wat are ye readin’ dere?” Connor asked, and I nearly screamed.

Instead, I cleared my throat and answered with the book title.

“Wha’s it ‘bout?” Murphy asked, clearly these two would be the death of me.

“If I told you it was about hiding the bodies of two Irish boys after they were maimed by a tiny brunette, would you leave me to it?” I asked, snarkily not taking my eyes off the same page. “Probably not, I think.” I looked up at the two of them smirking from either side of me. “It’s about Ted Bundy. And that’s the truth.” They looked appalled. Good.

“Wasn’t he a serial killer?” Connor asked, looking at me like he was a little shocked.

“Yep.” I answered, popping that p. “Handsome devil, too. Got away with it for so long because no one could believe someone so pretty could kill all those women.” I looked between them like I was coming to a conclusion. “Huh, you’re both pretty.”

They looked sick at the inferrance. “Told ya, we ain’t like dem.” Connor snapped. His eyes were slanted in a glare. Ut oh.

“Mass murderers, right?” I asked, testing to see how mad they’d get with me. “At least based on the definition.”

Murphy sighed, and then I heard him chuckle. “She’s tryin’ yer patience, brudder.” I didn’t turn from Connor, waiting to see if Murphy could make him see the truth. His glare held and I nearly felt fear, nearly. “Fuck’s sake, Connor, wus a joke.”

I watched as Connor’s face cleared, the glare lowered, and his smirk returned. “Called us pretty though.” I rolled my eyes.

“Dat she did.” Murphy answered, and I wondered if they could carry on multiple conversations at once. No fair tag teaming their teasing. Fuckers.

“I think I’m going to bed.” I stood, and realized at this vantage point they’d be staring at my ass. Oh well. “Have fun with the television, boys, but can you keep it down a bit. I have to open my store in the morning.” They nodded and watched me go. Please, for my sanity, I prayed, don’t let them follow me.

Sometime during the night I finally drifted off. They hadn’t made noise. In fact, it was oddly quiet in the apartment. My nerves, however, were stretched thin. Why were they so quiet, I wondered. Why didn’t I hear the television and one of the many action movies they clearly loved being dissected? Finally, my exhaustion must have taken over, because I was out until my alarm went off.

Groaning, I smacked it with my hand. Wishing I could throw the damn thing out the window. With it turned off, I looked around my room. I felt like crap. Not unlike the few times I’d drank way too much of way too many different types of drinks. Ugh, I felt like I hadn’t slept at all.

Rolling carefully out of bed, I stood, feeling like I’d rather throw myself out the window with my alarm clock than open the store. Making myself successful, and the promise of quiet of the store strove me to get dressed. Fixing my hair in a long braid over my right shoulder, I checked out my reflection in the standing full length mirror by my closet. Skinny jeans, another v-neck t-shirt, this time dark blue, and a pair of ballet flats completed my look. Oh and my glasses, of course. I cracked my neck and smiled at myself. Come on, you can face the two of them.

I walked out and realized they were gone. How they’d managed to relock my door was a mystery, but neither Connor nor Murphy was inside the apartment. I checked the guest room, clearly it had been slept in and the sheets and blanket weren’t perfectly made as it had been before. The guest bathroom was still steamy from at least one shower, but they’d found the hamper, so the towels weren’t tossed all over the floor. Neat, I thought. They were strangely neat. Huh. I wondered how they had managed the door, then remembered the fire escape outside the guest room’s window. Sure enough the window was closed, but not locked. Spider monkeys.

I grabbed a couple slices of toast with light butter and a little apple butter, and grabbed a jacket and my bag from the coat rack. I was out the door in minutes, and walking briskly to my store. Unlocking the door, and hearing the familiar bell tingle as I walked in the darkness made me sigh. Familiarity, routine, that was what I craved. Turning on the coffee and espresso makers, I started getting the store ready for the day.

I was gearing up for Marco’s arrival and had nearly convinced myself that the whole experience with Connor and Murphy was some long delusion. I’d imagined the entire encounter. They hadn’t come in yesterday for coffee. I hadn’t learned about their identities at Doc’s. They definitely hadn’t spent the night at my house after I, God was a blushing again, inspected their bodies with my hands for scars. If it weren’t for the tingle in my fingertip remembering the gulp I felt on Connor’s neck or the contraction of Murphy’s abdominal muscles, I would have convinced myself. Damn it.

Marco came and left, I barely even remembered giving him his double espresso. I’m sure I did, though, right? Fuck. I filled the display case with the fresh pastries, and reboxed the day old. I’d drop them at the soup kitchen during lunch. As soon as I heard the first light ring of the bell on the door, I knew it would be them.

“Welcome to As the Page Turns, can I help you?” I asked, sounding bored to my own ears. Turning I saw the two of them swagger in. “Coffee?” I asked, grabbing two cups. “Want the same as yesterday?” I didn’t wait for them to answer, just listlessly started making the two cups.

“Tess? Yer feeliln’ aright?” Connor’s voice asked, and I nodded. Tired as shit, I thought, but fine.

Murphy chimed in. “Yer sure? Cause ye soun’ a bit off.” Worried, they both sounded worried.

I turned to face them with two coffees, lids in place, paper wraps around them. “I’m fine.” I yawned. “Tired a bit.”

They’re brows were furrowed. Still concerned. “Did we keep yer up?” Murphy asked, taking his cup and taking a drink. He started to reach into his pocket for cash, but I waved him off.

“You paid too much yesterday.” I said, another yawn racking through me. “You didn’t keep me up, I just had trouble sleeping.”

“You’re too knackered to storekeep today.” Connor said, staring at me with so much concern it would warm my heart, if I could focus on it.

“Have to stay,” I answered, glaring at the implications. “My store, I’m the only employee. Finally made the damn thing a success. I’m not going to ruin it by taking a nap.”

Connor and Murphy exchanged one of their looks. “OUT LOUD!” I yawned with a bite. They glanced at me and shook their heads.

“We tink we know ‘ow yer can stay open.” Murphy said, over another of your yawns.

Connor nodded, not able to resist a sip of coffee. “‘Av a friend named Romeo. He could look after ye store and ya could rest.”

I looked at them with suspicion. “Romeo?” I giggled. “He gonna bring Juliet along?”

“Gone mad from lack o’ sleep.” Connor said, grinning at you.

Murphy nodded. “Call ‘im, brudder.” I watched as Connor picked up the store phone and dialed. I listened as they talked, but didn’t get the gist of it. Maybe they were right, maybe I was too tired to work.

“‘Tis set.” Connor told Murphy, and shot a look at me.

Murphy nodded. “Gud, let one of us take yer home.”

I shook my head. “Does Romeo know how to work my coffee and espresso machine? How about the register?” I asked, looking at each of them. They looked at me stymied. “I have to stay long enough to teach him.” I yawned again.

“Fuck, teach me.” Murphy said, looking as worried about me as Connor did. “Den I can wait while Connor take ya ‘ome.”

I sighed, and ran through the instructions with Murphy. He asked good questions, and I answered them as well as I could. I kind of wished I could hire him. Seemed detail oriented. Probably put me to shame. I giggled again, thinking of Murphy wearing my glasses. Jesus, maybe they were right, maybe I was delirious.

Murphy nodded us out the door. Connor was carrying my bag and had a hand on my back. “Shud jus carry ya back.” He muttered, seeing as my earlier energy was gone. I was shuffling along. Growing more weary as we walked. Did my apartment move while I was gone? I swear it wasn’t this far before. Finally taking initiative, he scooped me up into his arms. I gave a gasp, too tired to make noise. “Sorry,” he whispered against my head. “Be faster dis way.”

I nodded against the shoulder of his pea coat. The smell of cigarette smoke and another cleaner scent invade my nostrils. I sighed, and the next thing I remember is being laid on my bed. I wanted to thank him, but sleep pulled me under as he pulled the blankets up over me. I thought I felt a kiss on my hair, but I was probably dreaming.

#Connor MacManus X OFC X Murphy MacManus #Boondock Saints 2 #eventual smut #no twincest #alternative universe

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obsessedchildsworld · 4 years

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Ok, this is kind of a rant on the creepypasta fandom because it's kinda trash.

So... I'm somewhat getting back into the fandom because I do really love the stories. I was looking up Ticci Toby since he's one of my favorite stories, and I went in his fandom page. First mistake. The only reason was because I was curious about what his birthday was. I looked at his personality traits and one of them was waffle. WAFFLE... The entire fandom has created a completely fanon Toby that is entirely different from canon. In canon, he's a snarky, sarcastic bastard. In fanon, however, he's a happy-go-lucky sunshine child who's obsessed with waffles. This is one of the main reasons why I got away from the fandom in the first place because the people in it (not all, and I respect the good ones in this fandom) go this kind of thing to the characters, completely changing them. Also, on this fandom page, I looked at the comments. Second mistake. I cant even describe some of these people, so I'm just gonna quote some of the comments. "Since I have heard about Ticci Toby, I really want to be a creepypasta too. And since I'm a creepypasta-fan, I hear voices in my head and I'm talkin' to myself. Can somebody tell me: I'm gonna be a real creepypasta, or I'm just completely insane? I like blood too... hahaha, go to sleep" ... WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS COMMENT?!?! First off, you do realize that they're serial killers and fictional, right? Or no? Because from this comment, you seem to have 2 brain cells. And the voices are probably just them being obsessed with him as a character. And it's real cringe since they quoted another creepypasta, Jeff the Killer, and thought they were becoming a real creepypasta. They fictional hon, sorry.

Another quote from a few people,

"He dead that he kills people because that they say how much tics he has he has 0 (I have a crush on him) hehehe"

"What do you mean 'he dead'"

"I'm not stupid I love him!"

"I love him too so back off!!!"

...I cringed so much just reading that. Again, they are fictional serial killers. It's almost as bad as those people who idolize Ted Bundy. And also, did you learn proper grammar as well?

Another one,

"I'm a really big creepypasta fan I really want to be a proxy and be friend with ticci toby"

Hon, it's gonna take some heavy dreaming to even try to accomplish this. Most people just dont realize that the stories are meant to SCARE YOU!! You aren't supposed to have a crush on them, that's just stupid.

I know this turned into a huge rant, but oh well. The creepypasta fandom is such trash though, mainly because of these fangirls ruining the characters. The characters from the stories are supposed to be scary. They kill people. They aren't some hot hunks that can sweep you off your feet.

#this went on for way longer than i anticipated #but i just had to vent on it #the fandom has turned to absolute dog shit because of these fangirls #i dont mean to offend anyone #its just my opinion #i was one of them once a few years ago #but i have realized the faults in my prior ways #the stories are great #the fangirls not much #creepypasta

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otherluces · 4 years

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(About Craig) Ah, the power of favoritism. Characters you like must be attractive [to everyone] and characters you don't must be ugly [and despise by all]. (I definitely don't see Cartman being trading fat for muscle when he's older. But I don't think anyone can deny his fashion sense and hair; he has that going for him. Craig, I haven't seen portrayed as a jock much. Delinquent, yeah but not jock. He'll likely be average-looking who hits hard. Boring and practical, just how he likes it)

I’m guessing that this is a commentary on my bit about the fandom tends to interpret Craig as a hot dude. That’s definitely a very real observation, about how our brains associate attractive with “good” and ugly with “bad”. Old serial shows and cartoons and whatnot, that’s why the heroes and the damsels in distress were conventionally attractive and the villains were ugly. That’s also probably why there are women who still look at pictures of someone like Ted Bundy and go “I mean, I know he was a serial killer, but he could still get it”. -.-

Cartman is a decent example of how you can often tell how a creator feels about him, based on how they draw or write him older. It’s not a guarantee, but generally people who hate him (assuming the ever draw or write him at all), tend to make him fat and scowling in an unattractive way or sloppy or something, and people who like him portray him as growing into his body/looks and being very handsome...and typically thinner or muscular (which I’d go into how to me that can come off as a “well he’s not fat cause fat is ugly” thing, but that’s a whole other discussion).

Now I believe everyone is entitled to their hcs, even though sometimes in the past I haven’t been very good about expressing it, especially when I feel protective of my own hcs. So I’m absolutely not saying that any of these hcs about appearance of the character older is wrong. It just an interesting study of how we view characters we like/dislike.

In regards to Craig and the boring and practical thing, he could very well keep that personality/mindset as an adult, but also he could be totally different - which is the main reason that any hc of aged up characters is fine. We don’t really know what they’re going to be like, what things are going to happen to them, five, ten, twenty, fifty years in the future. Whether you’re 15 or almost 35, like me, I’m gonna bet that you’re not *exactly* like you were when you were 10.

Anyway, I feel like I’m rambling now and I’m worried that I’m gonna write something that might not be quite what I’m trying to say. =/

I guess tl;dr: all hcs are wonderful, but it’s an interesting sociological concept about how we as humans typically view good/bad in terms of attractive/unattractive.

#probably questionable ramblings from a fandom grandma #anon

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cuddleslutloki · 5 years

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I have a genuine question. How often do you actually deal with antis? I've been following you for a bit now and it seems every so often you bring up antis. I've certainly kept my interest about thorki shut and locked away in a box from my friends for the simple fact that all of them think it's incest. It's not an easy topic of conversation but you just seem to handle all the antis so well? Also on an off note about beast!Thor, his favorite pass time must just be rutting into Loki 24/7 🤔

when someone tells you that you're romanticizing abuse [bc i made a stockholm moodboard for a fic] I don't know what I'm supposed to say other than I don't condone it but I write about it? Is writing about abusive relationships bad in writing??? you're the only person i ask for advice so thank you for anything in advance

i’m honestly really glad you came to me. i really do like discussing this topic in this kind of way bc i’ll never reblog an anti or answer an anti ask. even if you’re arguing against them, i don’t think it’s worth it to argue against them if it means also spreading what they’re saying

the basic premise of all anti behavior and ideology is censorship. that’s all it is.

“i don’t like this topic, you need to stop writing it and making art for it. if you don’t stop there will be consequences.”

that is censorship and that is the kind of shit fandom has had to fight ever since there’s been fandom. women, poc, lgbt+ folks have been dealing with people telling us what we can and can’t write and enjoy for... well, probably forever. but we’re still here, creating the kind of content we want to see and indulge in.

as far as how to deal with antis, my advice is to ignore, ignore, ignore. they want what any bully wants: attention

you stop paying attention, you stop giving them time they don’t deserve from you, they’ll die off. there’s no point in fighting them directly. produce the content you want to see and enjoy what you want to enjoy. drown them out. you don’t owe them a response just because they come to you. they don’t have any qualms about being rude to you, so be rude back and just ignore them. i love blocking antis, personally. take out the garbage, y’know?

antis use the words ship and support as synonyms because they think that shipping is some radical call to action for lgbt rep instead of entertainment

shipping is not activism. shipping is about entertainment and enjoyment, nothing more

so this is why i have this very blasé attitude about antis. i just don’t give a fuck about them beyond making posts trashing their idiocy. because that’s what it is. it’s idiocy, but going deeper it’s puritanism at its finest. antis use fox news scare tactic logic under the guise of some pseudo feminist agenda because they don’t understand and don’t want to understand that enjoying dark fiction as entertainment isn’t equivalent to some greater moral stance

they use the same argument about shipping and fanfiction that WASP moms use against video games and loud music: that enjoying and consuming it will make you think it’s normal and there’s nothing wrong with it irl

okay, well, vlad the impaler never played CoD or far cry and caligula never watched hentai but we know why i’m bringing them up in this context without even heading over to wikipedia, don’t we?

they use the words abuse and pedophilia waaaaaayy too liberally and they’re doing more harm than good because they’re twisting and warping words that should have very specific meanings by using them so goddamn vaguely and irresponsibly

my own personal theory is that these people are terrified that if they don’t yell in opposition to these topics 24/7 and actively attack content creators that they’d probably enjoy it, and they’ve been so programmed by the echo chamber of tumblr and twitter that they think this means they’re bad people.

spoiler alert: that’s not what it means

i literally watched a circle jerk on twitter where screenshots of some mafia starker au got tweeted and retweeted w/ pictures of someone pouring bleach into cereal and people had asked to see more of the post. if you really don’t like something, you shouldn’t hate-read about it. it’s not productive, it does more harm than good if that’s the actual issue rather than some reverse psychology-style enjoyment they’re probably getting out of it.

they claim to hate this shit so much, but they’re reading hundreds and thousands of words and putting these images in their heads of their own free will. i don’t do that with shit i genuinely dislike. i avoid it.

i see antis say they enjoy thorki fanart because they think it’s cute, then they see it’s tagged thorki and they have an over the top reaction because the nature of anti ideology states you should never enjoy something like that, so if you do then you have to make the excuse of ignorance to prove that you’re still innocent and pure. enjoyment is apologism to them because they aren’t content to simply attack fan creators, they want to try and drive away the people who consume our art as well because they know you’re the cornerstone of fandom. consumers are why creators create. yeah, i write because i enjoy it, but i also write to connect to my readers and have people commenting on my fics when they like them.

it’s also worth noting that antis only ever talk about shipping. they only talk about sexual and romantic ships. i’ve never seen an anti talk about (often extreme) levels of violence in canon source material for the ships and characters they want to froth at the mouth over.

seeing someone bleed out and choking on their own blood after being stabbed or shot or bludgeoned? meh

seeing a character who was once a child have a sexual thought about a character who was also once a child and is also their close friend? omg why are we trying to make fandom unsafe for people?

personally, i’ve also noticed that fandoms with darker canon material tend to have more chill fandoms most of the time. i think it also depends on the average age in a given fandom. there’s a major difference between fannibals and steven universe fans, let’s just say that.

creating a moodboard for a dark fic is not “romanticizing abuse” and at this point antis honestly have no fucking idea what that phrase is. they use those words the way a bored CEO uses social media buzzwords and hashtags in a staff meeting

if antis want to see true romanticizing of abuse then they can go to serial killer thirst tags and spot the fucking differences between shippers and people who forget that ted bundy was weak, flaccid, cowardly piece of shit

writing something dark or violent or whatever else and condoning the act or doing the act are different. this is why stephen king isn’t under government surveillance or in prison.

make no mistake, this anti shit only applies to fandom. they’re attacking creators here because creators out at the professional levels don’t give a fuck. they’ve tried, and they’ve failed.

creators at the professional level understand something antis don’t: that being able to reconcile your enjoyment of dark media can be a sign of emotional intelligence and good emotional health. it’s cathartic. it’s allowed to be cathartic.

the most common consumers of dark fiction are members of minority communities and people who’ve been emotionally and/or sexually repressed for one reason or another.

antis want to say that fiction doesn’t exist in a vacuum and they are 100% correct! because writing fanfiction and original fiction that relates to parts of my life that nearly killed me gives me control over something that was beyond me in the original context. writing about fucked up codependent, violent romance allows me to process my shit in a way that’s healthy and produces something fun and enjoyable.

my therapist knows i ship thorki, she knows i write thorki. i’ve had her read pieces of fanfiction i’ve written in addition to pieces of original fiction. y’know what she said? “wow, baylen, that’s vivid. you have a way with words!”

i read her a line out of smart boy and told her what the story was about and this trained professional said “well it’s a productive way to process some emotion that you clearly need to let out”

but you know what? if someone doesn’t have the trauma i have? let them write it, too! let them create and enjoy the fictional content they want! more cake, y’all!

finally getting around to one of the first parts of your ask, lol. thorki is incest. thor and loki are brothers. they were raised believing they were blood brothers, even. loki being adopted doesn’t change a thousand years of personal history where thor looked at loki and thought that they came out of the same woman, y’know?

that’s his brother and in the comics his attachment to loki is even more intense. the mcu nerfed that shit. loki’s life has been intrinsically tied to thor’s ability to feel a full sense of joy.

enjoying an incest ship isn’t some sign of moral depravity. writing abusive relationships isn’t bad. gone girl was made into an award winning movie. art should look like life, and sometimes life fucking sucks. dark stories, sad stories, fucked up holy shit idk if i can go to sleep after i read this stories exist for a reason. we need them. we have to have an outlet for our frustration, our anger, and especially our fear.

so which is the healthier option of these

to write up a piece of fanfiction where two siblings are in love in a way that might be cute and soft or might be destructive, depending on your mood?

attacking strangers you don’t know online and threatening violence against anyone who doesn’t think like you do?

i know what kind of person i want to be.

ship and let ship, thanks for reading my doctoral thesis office hours are always

#anon #baylen chats

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nopityforthemajority · 4 years

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true crime asks - 1,2,3, and 4

Favourite Serial Killer, Why?

I would say Jeffrey Dahmer because of his methods? Like, the way he cut open his victims and everything else he did is interesting to me.

Least Favorite Serial Killer, Why?

Ted Bundy. Probably because he's overrated in my opinion and generally just unlikable to me.

Favourite Mass Murderer, Why?

Maybe Eric Harris (yeah, i know) because I feel I can relate to him in the sense of struggling with mental health and issues with anger. Maybe...i don't know.

Least Favorite Mass Murderer, Why?

Tj Lane. I'm not sure if he's considered a mass murderer but I'll say him anyways. He's rude and I don't like him 😡

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alexis-venkman · 5 years

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15 Questions 15 Mutuals

Are you named after anyone?

I'm named after a character on the soap opera The Young And the Restless. My name was going to either be Rebekah or Rhiannon, but my dad didn't like those. So, they picked the name that I have because my mom was watching TYATR when she went into labor.

When was the last time you cried?

I can honestly say that I don't remember. Probably last week? Maybe?

Do you have kids?

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

I speak it fluently.

What’s the first thing you notice about people?

Smile or eyes. Sometimes their butt :|

What’s your eye color?

Green or Hazel. Mostly green. Especially when I'm sick, though, they turn Hazel when I'm upset.

Scary movie or happy ending?

Scary movie. Fuck chick flicks (except for a few).

Any special talents?

I can burp on command like a classy broad.

I also know a LOT about Forensic Science and serial killers. I can tell you almost anything and everything about almost every serial killer. However, I CAN tell you anything and everything about Ted Bundy. I'm a walking encyclopedia on him. I've studied serial killers, mostly Ted, for over 15 years now...Probably closer to 16, actually.

AND NO I AM NOT ONE OF THOSE GIRLS THAT ROMANTICIZES THEM. I KNOW WHAT SICK BASTARDS THEY WERE AND I DO NOT CONDONE ANYTHING THEY HAVE DONE. NOR DO I CONDONE THE FACT THAT SOME PEOPLE LUST AFTER THEM. TO EACH THEIR OWN, BUT ANYONE WHO DOES THAT, CLEARLY KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT THAT KILLER OR KILLERS.

Where were you born?

New York, USA

What are your hobbies?

Studying the minds and crimes of serial killers - obviously, I love listening to music, watching movies and some TV shows, and I like reading.

Do you have any pets?

In the house, we have 3 dogs; 2 cats and a 1 bird. The 3 dogs are mine, though. I just share them with my family lol Except the one, she's both mine and my brother's.

What sports do you play/have you played?

I hate sports. Almost joined a soccer team as a kid, but decided not to. I did, however, want to play Rugby in high school because I'm a small ball of fury XD buuuut I can't play any contact sports, even with bodyguard.

How tall are you?

5'1" (1.55 meters) (61 inches)

Told ya, small ball of fury.

Dream job?

Working as a Forensic Psychologist in a jail, evaluating prisoners to see if they stand fit for trial (like Alexis). Though, that one is far fetched from reality.

I would love to have my own blog where I write about my every day struggles with my Major Depressive Disorder, ADHD, Anxiety and Panic Disorder, and Borderline Personality Disorder (BPD). And I would also love to help people who have the same issues, or if they just need to talk.

However, until I get my Bachelor of Science in Psychology, I will let them know that I am in no way a professional; that it's just my experiences, what I've learned about my mental disorders, how I cope with them, and urge people to get professional help. Because I can't legally help anyone, even with a Bachelor's degree, there's only so much I can do. But I could at least educate people more and broaden my blogs topics.

Favorite subject at school?

Anything science. Though I took Science Fiction my last year in school. SciFi class was just an English class that was branched off for Seniors. They had Mythology too, but I'm a fucking nerd so XD

In the class we would discuss the rules of scifi (like how robots DO NOT have feelings like humans. They aren't built to have them, they're just machines), we would watch a bunch of old SciFi things like The Time Machine; Star Trek OG episodes; The Twilight Zone; and those old "what to do when..." videos from the 40s and 50s when nuclear war was a huge fear. They were pretty fucking funny XD one boy just pushed his younger sister down into the hole of the bunker before he climbed in by using the ladder. After we watched those, we would have to write a 3 paragraph essay on them, based off of questions the teacher asked.

It was a fun class to say the least. And the teacher, Mr. Hendricks, was awesome.

Tagging: @silkenbone @juststeverogersnow @thebutcherandthebaker @breannasewell @satanskxds @welshwritings @thornstocutyouwith @heavenofgods @lcvethevcid @sayyoullalwayshauntme @confidentlybroken @bachelorbrucewayne @cagedanxmals @xtheroyalmusesx @theholyandthedamned and anyone else that wants to do this!

Tagged by: @xking-of-the-cloudsx

#ooc #about mun #mun speaks #ooc: this was actually fun #about

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