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sichengtual · 3 years

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jihoon had never really felt the need for a travel buddy, until he finds himself alone in europe on christmas night. cheers to long lost friends and warm strudels!

— pairing: lee jihoon x reader.

— au: friends to lovers, writer!jihoon.

— genre: fluff.

— word count: 1864.

— song: we all fall in love sometimes — elton john.

this is for linh, from your tct secret santa! i really enjoyed writing this for you, and i hope you’re having a merry christmas and some very happy holidays!

The scene in front of him is almost a perfect one. Sitting down in the middle of a cheery café, Jihoon can’t help but wonder what it would take to complete the picture.

There’s a strong scent of freshly brewed coffee rising from his cup, meeting his nose in the form of thick, creamy wisps of warm steam. He can see them clearly in this lighting; soft, color-tinged light coming from the stained glass lamps that almost cover the entire roof, illuminating the entire place like a sort of luminous kaleidoscope. Just like every Christmas night (according to a bright red flyer pasted on the door), a live band plays instrumental covers of famous festive pieces, accompanied with the occasional singing of the clients. There’s the distinctive sound of an espresso machine mixing in with the music, all blending together with happy cheers and excited conversations.

The place was nothing fancy; full of small families and large groups of friends. Everyone is happily drinking from a colorful assortment of cups that assured each and every one of the clients held a different one, including Jihoon’s pastel blue mug, and snacking on the varied home-made pastries.

In the end, the only person Jihoon could see sitting alone in the vivid establishment is himself. Everyone around him is talking loudly to one another, laughing at inside jokes in words he can’t really understand if he’s not actively focusing on it.

He can see people passing by from the large window in the opposing wall, the stars in the night sky shining bright over their heads, and it strikes him: he’s by himself, in a foreign country, being alone in all the possible senses of the word. There’s really not much he can do except sip on his coffee and write along in his notebook, listening to the music and occasionally looking up to appreciate the carved wood decorations laid all over the cabinets.

He had, much to all of his friends’ dismay, hopped on a plane in an effort to cure his writer’s block with a bit of foreign inspiration, looking for new, exciting people that could somehow inspire new, exciting stories. And he had been successful, or at least effective, no matter how much he wishes he could have someone to share a cup of coffee with in the middle of a bursting restaurant.

“Jihoon? Do you mind if I join you?” He hears, and can’t help but think of the irony behind his last thought and the incoming question.

The voice comes to him like a flashback from his past: from breaks spent together in highschool, sharing snacks while sitting down on the staircase. It’s soft as he thinks back of a childhood spent together but an adulthood spent apart, of old friends separated by the harsh passing of time.

“The waiter said there aren’t any free tables left, but since we’re both alone, I thought we could share. He offered me a place at the bar, but it’s right next to where the band is playing. ”

He’s not sure what to answer, because he’s not even sure what to think. He’s surprised, wide-eyed like a deer in the headlights as he looks up at you, recognizing you as he thinks of how different you look.

“Alone?” Jihoon asks, finally finding his voice as he closes his notebook. “How did you know?”

“I saw you through the window,” the voice adds. “That… sounds weird, sorry. What I mean is I was waiting to get in and saw you while I was in the queue. A table for one is not that hard to recognize.”

Jihoon nods. “Sit down, it’s alright.”

And so you do, looking all over the place as you do in an attempt to take everything in. Because honestly, your surroundings are a lot to process when you think of all the colors, sounds and scents mixing in like some sort of surrealist artwork you still don’t understand. You try to divert your eyes from the guy sitting in front of you, his platinum blonde hair falling over his face as he looks down and writes in his notebook.

“I’ve never been here,” you comment.

And Jihoon looks up, because even though you had asked to accompany him at the table, he wasn’t really expecting a conversation. He always welcomed one, though.

“Me neither,” he says. “I’m just here on vacation.”

“Yeah, me too,” you answer.

“On the holidays?”

“Well, what a better place to experience the season’s magic than getting to travel the world, don’t you think?”

The waiter arrives. Following your old friend’s advice, you order a latte and a warm apple strudel (the latter being a suggestion from the waiter because, after all, it was the house specialty). Jihoon gets a refill for his coffee and a pastry just like yours before the waiter walks away after being called to another table.

“Are you writing?” You ask, pointing to the small notebook as you take off your scarf. It’s burning hot against your neck now that you’ve finally found refuge from the cold.

Jihoon nods. “I’m working on a story. That’s the reason I’m here.”

“A Vienna love story?”

“Could be. I… still don’t know the route it will take,” he confesses. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the waiter finally passing your order to the baristas. “I’m just jotting down ideas as they come to me.”

“You always found inspiration in the strangest of places,” you say. Jihoon smiles at the words, a soft laugh accompanying them. “A whole different country, for example.”

In all honesty, Jihoon had never thought he’d ever see you again. You had moved away for college and never really met up again, both of you way too busy with your own lives to find some middle ground. Or even look for it. He had buried himself in trying to write the next big literary classic, and you were completely dedicated to doing your own thing. In the end, it had all seemed way more demanding than trying to catch up with the person that used to steal your blueberry jelly-beans when you were kids.

You look away from him as your coffee arrives. The moment you set your eyes on it you’re happy you listened to Jihoon’s advice, the creamy foam on top showcasing a clearly drawn tulip. You’re also met with a steaming, puffy bun covered in fine powdered sugar, some of it instantly melting as a product of the heat.

“I never expected to find you here,” you comment as you empty a small packet of sugar into your coffee. “I mean, no one expects to find their old childhood friend while vacationing in Europe, but still. It’s a nice surprise.”

And he agrees, because out of his entire trip, seeing you here had been what had taken him by surprise the most. It almost felt like going back in time, or being in an alternate universe, following a completely different timeline. Somehow, being with you inside a small, quaint café in downtown Vienna feels like a big what if, completely different from the route your lives had taken.

It seems like a story told by a different narrator, actions improvised and producing an entirely different outcome. And it feels nice.

“It’s weird,” he says. He takes a sip of his coffee, feeling the warm beverage travel down his throat, soothing it. “I don’t know if it will sound crazy, or just extremely weird, but it almost feels as if time hasn’t passed at all.”

“What, are you still stuck in the marvelous nineteen’s?” You joke. He smirks in your direction as a retort to your words.

“It just feels way too familiar, even when it’s entirely different,” he adds.

“It’s just us having been good friends, once upon a time,” you say. “I guess the bond still exists, even if it’s buried deep inside.”

You notice him staring as you bite into your strudel, but you don’t really make anything out of it, because as he looks at you under the colorful light, he knows what the what if refers to. What if he had told you how he felt back then? How we was completely in love with you, knowing you like the back of his hand and thinking he really could see himself sharing his life with you as he always had.

“Oh, I read your book when it came out last year!” You comment excitedly, once you’ve swallowed down the treat. “I can’t believe I was childhood friends with this generation’s Shakespeare.”

Jihoon laughs, feeling the blood rising to his cheeks. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“No, it was amazing!” You continue. “You were always so amazingly talented. Even my mom read it, and you know the only things she ever reads are the nutritional tabs when she goes grocery shopping.”

“God, do you remember going grocery shopping with your mom, though?”

“You were always her favorite, she kept buying you those chilli powder candies in exchange of you backing her up with her choice of chips.”

“I can’t believe I agreed on buying family-sized sour cream chips only on the promise of tangy chilli powder candies.”

And he laughs. He laughs, wholeheartedly, throwing his head back as he feels a weight finally being lifted from his shoulders. He laughs, to his entire soul’s content, for once being able to get lost in the feeling of it. It’s a feeling he knows, a feeling he misses, and it feels like coming home. Somehow, despite being miles and years away, your smile has brought him back to days spent in the sun, basking in the warmth of the summer.

He looks at you, a big grin plastered on both of your faces, a direct aftermath of the laughter, and he can’t help but feel like he’s just been given a second chance. It’s not that he doesn’t believe in coincidences, but as you look back at him, smiling as wide as your face allows, it almost feels as if the entire universe has conspired in reuniting you, once again, on Christmas night in a foreign country.

The band begins to play a very familiar song, one he can easily recognize even when the words sung are not ones he understands. But it speaks of home, and of love, and it’s finally, once and for all, something he can be completely sure he’s feeling.

And so he opens his notebook, his pen rolling effortlessly over the thick, creamy paper as he writes down the title of his next novel, undoubtedly his biggest hit to date. His first ever dedication, completely inspired by the moment he’s sharing with you. And the moments he hopes will come.

It’s a tale of two lovers separated by the cruel will of life, finally finding each other a thousand moonlights since their ways had parted. It’s a tale of hope, of love conquering even with the odds completely not in its favor. It’s a tale of luck, after all, of second chances finally allowing for happiness.

He smiles when he reads the words.

Coffee, Vienna, and love regained.

#tct secret santa #svtsource #caratwritersclub #seventeen scenarios #jihoon scenarios #woozi scenario #seventeen scenario #woozi scenarios #jihoon scenario #seventeen x reader #svt scenarios #svt fluff #woozi fluff #svt scenario #svt x reader #woozi x reader #mar.writing

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canyouhearthelight · 3 years

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The Miys, Ch. 114

I’m hoping this chapter find everyone safe and sound. Normally, I wouldn’t start off with something like that, but I am queueing this on 11/5/2020, and a lot has happened in our world. Not just my country, but earthquakes, shootings.. it’s a lot.

Please be safe. My only, most sincere hope, is that reading this can bring you some relief from everything going on. And if you are reading this far after the fact - I’m glad you’re here to read it. I appreciate each and every follower and reader, and I just want you all to be okay.

As always, shoutouts go to @baelpenrose for beta reading this chapter, @raven-fae for being the reason I dared to post my scribbles in public, and @charlylimph-blog for being a bright light in a dark world. Charly, I don’t think you will ever know how much everyone loves you. I mean that. And finally, @zommbiebro for the ever-fun to write character of Jokul. You pushed and pushed to have this character exist, and I’m incredibly glad you did, because he is so much fun to play with.

“Antoine told me that Conor is going back to therapy,” Tyche mentioned nonchalantly as we were heading toward the exercise area.

I arched an eyebrow at her. “What do you mean back to therapy? I didn’t know he ever stopped.”

She flapped a hand at me. “You know what I mean. Not a touchbase appointment, a ‘this isn’t working’ appointment.”

“Ah,” was my sage reply. “Yeah, there was a tense moment. To be fair, though, it’s the first time anything like that has happened since he started seeing someone, and I think it needed to happen.”

“In what world…” she started, hands on her hips as she stopped walking.

Turning, I held up my hand to cut her off. “The last time someone was upset about what has been triggering Conor, I ended up with a busted lip.” I stared at her meaningfully.

She stared blankly for a moment, and I could almost hear her brain whirring. Then her eyes got wide and her mouth narrowed into a small ‘o’. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“Ohhhhhh…. Well that makes sense I guess. So, does that mean you and Maverick…?”

“Yep, group therapy!” I threw my hands up half-heartedly. “And there was much rejoicing. Yay.”

Her gaze snapped over my shoulder and her neck twisted as something caught her attention. “What the…” She blinked furiously before rubbing her eyes and squinting. “I’m hallucinating. I have to be.” Without waiting for me to ask what she meant, she grabbed my shoulders and turned me around.

Now it was my turn to blink. Walking towards, very focused on what looked to be a heated discussion, were none other than Arthur Farro and Jokull Bjornson. But… they weren’t arguing. Both looked to be wearing gym clothes, and I could tell they were sweaty even from so far away. As they got closer, they both also appeared to be bruised, and Jokul was even bleeding from the corner of his mouth. Regardless of all that, the animated way they were talking to each other looked more like a conversation between equals than it did the type of discussion that would lead to….

Well, that would lead to the fight they looked like they already had.

Soon enough, they noticed me and Tyche - it couldn’t have been hard. We were standing in the middle of the corridor, staring in shock and tilting our heads like it would force the scene to make more sense. “Reids!” Arthur greeted as he waved. “I need you two to settle an argument. Fortifications, yay or nay?”

“I thought the sentient bacterium and twelve-foot talking mushrooms were the weirdest thing I would ever see….” Tyche muttered.

I was far more eloquent. “I…. Arthur… this… what?” I sputtered, gesturing frantically between the two men.

Some part of that seemed to make sense, because he glanced at the taller man beside him and just shrugged. “Jokull wanted to practice hand to hand combat, and I’m the only one willing to hit him after the… Exhibition match? Everyone on the ship was nervous for some reason. Well, except Charly, of course.”

Jokull shook his head. “I feel my chances of survival with Farro are far higher than another fight with Miss Harper.”

Arthur eyed him weirdly, clearing his throat. “That’s because there is zero chance of me missing and ripping your throat out by accident, because I don’t bite.”

“Indeed.”

“There is zero chance of Charly missing,” I interjected. “And that was once, and you had it coming.”

Arthur continued, ignoring me. “Anyway, it’s not like anyone else on the Ark wanted to spar with me after that little show, either. So, win-win. Besides, he’s not a bad guy when he’s not doing things to make me actively want to kill him.”

Jokull laughed, but I was pretty sure he didn’t realize that Arthur was only half joking. Maybe half.

“Again, I’m sure Charly would spar with you, Arthur,” I pointed out. Tyche choked on laughter.

Arthur just looked at me like I spontaneously grew a third head and it happened to be drooling. “What part of she bites did you miss?”

“That. Was. One! Time!

“Besides, I’ve seen how you small women learned to fight in the After. I don’t know how hard I’d have to hit her to get her to stop biting, and I’d rather not hit a student hard enough to find out.”

Jokull mumbled, “Surprisingly hard, and in a nerve cluster, apparently.”

Both of us looked at him, eyes narrowed. Arthur’s next words came out very slowly. “If you’ve decked Charly, Jokull, you are on a fast track back to ‘let’s try axe versus saber’.”

Jokull turned to me frantically, “Councillor, I wasn’t aware…”

I interrupted him, again. “Arthur, it was that time she chomped his collarbone. Old news.”

Arthur was still scowling. “As long as that was the only time…” He shook his head, clearing the glare from his expression. “Anyway, it’s been kind of fun, actually. We’ve been comparing notes about our experiences in the After. What it was like for our groups, people we skirmished with, things we did to keep our territories safe and our people provided for…”

Jokull nodded, very seriously. “We have discussed several ideas regarding sustainable settlements and potential fortifications once we reach Von, along with distribution of resources and sheltering against winter months.”

“I’m pro-fortification, by the way,” I responded, now that I was caught up on the context of that question.

Arthur scowled at me and shook his head. “Et tu, Sophia? The need for any fortifications is still up in the air, but the rest are really solid.”

“I told you, Farro, fortifications against people are also fortifications against wildlife.”

“And I told You the odds of predators on Von are very low. Grey said so theirself.”

“Moose. I’m talking about moose. We don’t need predators if there are herbivores that large!”

“Grey insists there aren’t any indigenous species larger than Lyric on Von.”

“Have you met a badger? Really…”

As they started arguing, I slowly turned to Tyche, meeting her matching wide-eyed expression. “Did we somehow walk into a parallel universe?”

“I don’t think so?” She turned toward the fierce debate. “For what it’s worth, I’m anti-fortification.”

“SEE!? One of the Weird Sisters has sense!” Arthur crowed triumphantly.

“Councillor Reid is on my side!”

As the debate grew more heated, I whispered to Tyche. “You love fortifications,” I pointed out.

“But that wouldn’t have added fuel to the fire,” she replied, magnanimous as ever.

I rolled my eyes, before trying to shout over the men. “We’re headed to the gym! Stop at a medbay pleasethankyou!”

Arthur waved at the same time that Jokul gave me a thumbs-up, but neither stopped their debate for even a breath.

Shaking my head, I tugged Tyche away. “Boxing today?” She hated boxing.

“Hmmm.”

“Ark to Tyche,” I gently shook her arm to get her attention. “Unarmed workout today. Boxing?”

“Huh?” She snapped her head at me and everything caught up. “What? No. Have you lost your mind?”

“It’s my turn to choose.”

“Just. Not that.”

“Ugh, fine,” I groaned dramatically. “Something with cardio, though. We both could use it with the gravity increases.”

“And what about armed workout.” For all that we were in a relatively peaceful situation, we were far from the only people on the Ark who practiced with weapons on a regular basis.

“Knives, duh.”

“Fighting or throwing?” She glanced at my expression and rolled her eyes. “Throwing. Of course. Why did I bother asking….”

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akaashishotthighs · 4 years

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Modern TID - Part 16

Part 15 - Part 17

They ended up going to her apartment anyway to pick up some things she needed. It was a quick visit. She packed her stuff in a suitcase, made sure everything in the flat was up to code, checked to see if any food would go rotten during the week, and off they went back to the Institute.

When they got back, Will had arranged a surprise for her. While they were at her place, he had asked Jem to vacate a couple of Will’s drawers, so that Tessa could pack her things there.

“And, if you want, you can keep some of them here. In case you come to stay over again.” He scratched the back of his neck and looked down to hide the blush that was creeping into his cheeks.

She had pushed his gaze up with her hand on his chin and kissed him softly. “I love it.”

He had smiled then, a toothy smile. “Great! It’s great that you love it.” He put his arms around her. “I want you to feel at home here.”

Home is wherever you are, she wanted to say. Then she shook the thought out of her head. Way too soon, Tessa. You’re going to scare him away.

She didn’t have time to say anything at all, for a loud, incessant and robust knock came at the door. Without being let in, Jessamine stalked into the room, in casual clothing. Or, at least, the most casual Tessa imagined Jessamine was capable of wearing. Her blonde hair was trapped in a loose braid across her shoulder. Her crop sweater was black and showed off a part of her tanned and toned abdomen. She wore a high waisted jean skirt fraying at the bottom. Her feet were in white strappy heels.

Tessa was confused. She knew this was some sort of fashion trend, but she was bewildered. Was she cold on the top, but hot on the bottom? Tessa didn’t understand. This was why she stuck to simple clothing.

“Are you ready or not?” Jessamine’s high pitch voice pulled her out of her fashion assessment.

“Ready for…?” Will asked the question before she could get it out.

Jessamine sighed and rolled her eyes. Tessa silently imagined throwing her in the river. “To go shopping? You promised.” She crossed her arms.

Will nodded. “Right.” He put a hand on the low of Tessa’s back. “Why don’t you go down to the car, while I go get Jem. We’ll be down in no time.”

“You better. I have a large number of stores I want to hit, which means we are on a rigorous schedule. So chop chop!” She clapped her hands and left with a whip of her blonde braid.

Tessa waited until she was out of listening range. “Please don’t leave me alone with her.”

Will chuckled. “Five minutes.” He took her face in his hands and gave her a quick peck. “If I take any longer, I promise I will make it up to you.”

“How?” She tilted her head.

He brushed her hair away from the most exposed part of her neck. He kissed her lips softly and then carried down with a trail of soft kisses all the way to her collarbone. Her head fell back, and her hands gripped his forearms. He bit down just as softly as he had kissed, pulling a gasp out of her. His lips left her collarbone to rest just under her ear. “Just like that.” He pulled away, grinning down at her, his eyes darkened to the colour of sapphires.

She took a deep breath and left the room while trying to calm her beating heart down. She was still thinking of Will’s hands on her body, his lips on her skin, the feeling of all of him against her, and the blue of his eyes as she sat in the back of the car next to Jessamine. The blonde had her eyes glued to her phone, as she typed faster than Tessa considered possible.

She leaned back on the seat and stared out of the window. She could see Cyril at a distance, carrying what seemed like cleaning supplies for the car. But she and Jessamine were on the vehicle. Was he going to wash the car with them inside? She saw as he pulled open the garage door, revealing at least three more cars. Tessa’s eyes widened.

“You didn’t think this was our only car, did you?” Tessa gaze slipped to Jessamine. She had turned her whole body in her direction, and her phone lay face down on the seat between them. How long has she been watching me, Tessa wondered.

“It was pretty naive of me to think so.” She admitted. She couldn’t look away. Jessamine’s light brown eyes were focused intently on her. She seemed to be trying to read Tessa’s thoughts and succeeding.

At last, one corner of her lips lifted in a malicious grin. “I did some research on you.” A chill went through her spine. “Theresa Gray. Daughter of Richard Gray and Elizabeth Gray. Niece of Harriet Moore. Sister of Nathaniel Gray. An alumna of some prestigious private school in New York.” Her manicured hand dropped down, her nails grazing the pastel pink case that covered her phone. “And that’s when the story got interesting. I did some further research. I found some fun little facts.”

There was white noise ringing in Tessa’s ears. Her hands felt shaky and clammy. Jessamine leaned in, and Tessa took a sharp intake of breath. Jessamine lowered her voice to barely a whisper. “I know your secret.” Her stomach dropped.

~/~

“What did she think of the surprise?”

Jem was pulling a sweater vest atop his short-sleeved shirt. Will wrinkled his nose to keep himself from laughing. “Are you ever going to stop dressing like an eighty-year-old trapped in a nineteen-year-old body?”

“You’re just jealous that you can’t pull this off.” He shoved his phone and wallet in his pockets. “Answer the question.”

Will told him the events of the bedroom as they descended the stairs. From Tessa’s reaction to Jessamine interrupting, to their little rendezvous before Tessa left. When he finished, Jem was shaking his head. “Are the two of you capable of going two seconds without feeling each other up?”

Will smirked. “Now who’s jealous?”

Jem rolled his eyes. “I am burning with the rage of the green monster.” Will chuckled. They were out of the house and approaching the car. He could see Tessa and Jessamine talking. “Seriously, Will, how are you doing? Still desperate to profess your undying love for her?”

Will scratched the back of his neck. “It’s harder than I thought.” They reached the car, ending any further conversation on this topic.

It really was hard. Every time Will looked at her, that he heard her voice, that he had even the most momentary thought of her, all Will wanted to do was scream that he loved her at the top of his lungs. She was in his dreams, her smiles as soft as her words, but always too far to reach. No matter how much he walked, how much he stretched his hands, Tessa was still just a bit too distant, her grey eyes always shinning. And he said it, he screamed it, and all she did was grin. She never said it back. During the day, his head rung with her name. It was like a song stuck in his mind. Tess, Tess, Tessa. She couldn’t have been named something awful, could she, like Mildred. He could not imagine himself singing “Mildred” all day in his head.

He sat on the driver seat and looked back at her. She smiled back at him, but it was strained. Had Jessamine said something? What was he thinking, of course she had, it was Jessamine. He was used to Jessamine’s cruel remarks, but Tessa wasn’t. He hoped it wouldn’t hammer around her head for long.

The drive had been quiet, Taylor Swift’s voice through the speakers. Jessamine was too focused on her phone to question why the radio had played not one, not two, not three, but more songs of Miss Americana. Tessa was looking through the window, too distracted to notice. Jem didn’t say anything, but Will did see him throwing him a sly grin as the second song started playing. Jem was the only one that knew that Will had a strong liking to her songs, and he always teased him for it.

They really spoke to his heart. What is a guy to do?

At last, they arrived at the shopping centre, and Will was quick to shut the playlist off. They had barely set foot outside the parking lot, and Jessamine was already commanding them to every shop they set eye on. Will got bored quickly, and Jem was right behind him. By the look on Tessa’s face, this was clearly not a favourite activity of hers either. Through the several shop’s Jessamine had hauled them to, Tessa hadn’t bought a single item. Jessamine, however, had filled both Will’s and Jem’s hands of multi-coloured bags.

They somehow convinced Jessamine that they needed a break to have lunch. She huffed and whined, but gave in. They hadn’t even finished eating, and she was already demanding to continue.

“Can we at least go down to the car to put these in?” Jem pointed at all the bags. “You two can go on without us, and we’ll join you after we’re done.”

Jessamine sighed. “Fine.” She gave them the name of the store and pulled Tessa behind her with such force that she almost ripped the poor girl’s arm off.

Will shook his head. “She’s going to kill me for leaving her alone with Jessamine. For the second time. In one day.”

Jem chuckled. “It was nice knowing you. What was it, seven years? Good while it lasted.”

Will laughed. “I always knew Jessamine would be my demise.”

~/~

After what felt like forever of holding Jessamine’s picks and separating them into two different piles as she had ordered, Tessa was starting to wonder if the other girl would notice if she made a run for it. At last, the blonde turned to her and smiled. “All done.”

Tessa sighed in relief. “Great. I think the queue to the check out is over there.”

“We’re not going to buy all of this.”

“We’re not?”

“Not yet, at least.” She shook her head, her braid whipping from side to side. “We need to try all of this on first.”

Tessa’s jaw almost dropped to the floor. She was going to try all of this on? They were never going to leave this shop. Tessa did a double-take. “Wait. Did you say ‘we’? You picked out clothes for me?”

Jessamine pointed at the pile in her left hand. “That’s my bag of clothes to try on.” She aimed to the one on her right side. “And that’s the bag of clothes for you to try on.”

Tessa’s breath faltered. This store was severely overpriced. She could barely afford socks here, much less the clothes that Jessamine had picked. She looked down at the bag. Tessa saw some of the clothes that Jessamine had chosen that Tessa had thought were really pretty; like a turquoise blouse incredibly soft to the touch, a pair of physique flattering jeans, and the dress that Tessa had fallen in love with the moment her eyes set sight on it. She looked back up at Jessamine. There was nothing wrong with trying on the clothes, right? It’s not like she was committing herself to buy anything.

She followed Jessamine into the dressing rooms at the back. These were considerably bigger than the stores that Tessa was used to. Jessamine insisted on sharing so that they could immediately see what the other looked like in a particular piece.

Every time she had to put aside a piece she loved and that not only fit but looked amazing on her, it hurt. Reading the price tags was like a little needle piercing her heart. It didn’t help that Jessamine’s pile of clothes to buy kept getting bigger and bigger. Tessa ran out of clothes faster than Jessamine, probably because she didn’t fawn over herself for long minutes whenever she tried on anything, unlike the blonde. There was only one item missing — the dress.

Tessa stood admiring it for a while. She couldn’t help herself. She flipped over the price tag. The amount of money necessary for the dress could pay a month’s rent on her small apartment. She shook her head. It was pointless to try it on because she’d only fall more in love with it and she couldn’t handle having to let it go.

She felt Jessamine behind her. “Try it on. It’s gorgeous, and it would look terrific on you. Trust me, I have a gift for this stuff.”

Tessa took a deep breath. It’s just trying it on. It probably won’t look that great on you anyway. She pulled it off its hanger. She was putting it on as Jessamine mumbled something. Tessa ignored her. The fabric felt amazing on her. She had chills all over. She reached back to zip it up and noted there was no zipper. She looked at the back on the mirror. The back closed like an old-timey corset, meaning she needed help to tie it.

She turned to Jessamine’s corner and noted she was all alone in the dressing room. Crap, she thought. Almost immediately, she heard Aunt Harriet’s voice in her head complaining about her choice of words.

Pulling the heavy beige curtain back, she tried to see where Jessamine had gone. “Jessamine?” She whispered. She saw a familiar face near the entrance of the dressing rooms. “Jem!” He looked up, confused and looked around until his eyes locked with her. He tilted his head. She put a hand out and motioned him closer. He came over to her, pausing to smile at one of the uniformed ladies. Tessa rolled her eyes. When he reached her, she couldn’t help herself. “Why are you so polite to everyone?”

He shrugged. “Kindness is free and is never harmful.” He looked around and then back to her. “May I ask why I was summoned?”

She huffed. “Jessamine convinced me to try on a dress, a dress that needs help being tied, and then bolted.” She put on her best grin. “Could you tie it for me?”

He smirked. “Oh, now you want me to be helpful. Funny how the tables turn, uh?”

“Please?” Her lower lip jutted out. He chuckled and nodded.

She pulled back the curtain, and he entered the dressing room. He closed the curtain behind him as she turned her back to him. “It’s like one of those old corsets.”

“Could you pull your hair up? It’s in the way.” She took her hair into her hands and balled it around her fist. She felt his fingers on her back, pulling strings and tying them together. He was a little taller than her and had bent his head to see better. Every time he exhaled, it hit her skin, causing little goosebumps along her arms.

He cleared his throat. “Is that a necklace clasp?” One of her hands flew down to the chain around her neck. “I didn’t notice you were wearing a necklace.”

“I wear it under my clothes.” Her lungs contracted. This was something very personal to her. Yet, somehow, for some reason, she felt alright with sharing this with Jem. She trusted him.

“You wear it often?”

“Everyday.” She pulled its pendant from the dress and turned to him to show it.

“May I?” He put his hand out, and she dropped it, letting him hold it. He inspected it, running his hands along with its details. “A clockwork angel.”

“It was my mother’s. When she died, my brother gave it to me and told me to keep it.” It’s what she would’ve wanted, he had said. “I hardly ever take it off. I wear it under my clothes because its something valuable, and my Aunt always told me it wouldn’t be safe to walk around with it on display.” She inhaled sharply. “But also because… it’s stupid.” She looked down at the floor.

She felt his fingers under her chin, making her look back into his eyes. “Tell me.”

She sighed. “It makes me feel closer to my mother. I never truly knew her. She died when I was five. I have small flashes of memories, but nothing substantial. This necklace is my only connection to my mother. Wearing it as close to my heart as possible makes me feel more connected to her. As if this necklace brings us closer together.” She said it all in one breath, afraid that she’d chicken out. She took a deep breath when she was done, her cheeks heating up quickly.

Jem smiled back at her. “I understand.” He gently dropped the angel. He reached into his shirt and pulled a chain out. Tessa’s eyes widened. At the end was a pendant, a jade pendant, a small Chinese character etched into a small golden circle at the centre. “I understand.” He said again, the words carrying a deeper tone this time.

Her hands itched to reach for it. She didn’t have to say a word. Jem took her hand and placed the pendant in it. She brushed her fingertips all over the surface, the warmth of the stone, giving her a small tingle. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s not the original. My mother’s pendant is currently in a box back at the Institute. My father gave it to her as a wedding gift. She passed it down to me and told me that I should gift it to my future wife. When she died, I couldn’t bring myself to take it out of that damn box. It’s the only thing of hers I have left, but she told me what its purpose was, and I will not oppose that.” His breath came out a little shaky. She reached out with the hand not holding the pendant and gave him a light squeeze in reassurance. He gave her a small nod and carried on. “I showed it to Will when we were fourteen. Told him the whole story. Then, on my birthday, he gifted this pendant to me. An exact replica, save one small difference.” He brushed a finger on the character. “My mother’s pendant has an old Chinese symbol for love engraved. This one is for friendship.”

“He made you a replica so you could wear it without feeling guilty.” She whispered.

He smiled, a small, loving smile. “I know what you’re thinking.” He fake fawned himself. “Oh, Will is such a good friend. How dreamy.” His voice was two tones too high, sounding disturbingly close to Jessamine’s.

She chuckled. “The story does work pretty well in Will’s favour.”

He took a step back, and the pendant slid from her hand. “Let me finish tying.” He made a spinning motion with his finger. She turned her back to him and felt his fingers on her again. She felt more comfortable, his breathing no longer causing goosebumps, but a reassuring chill. “All done.” He whispered at her ear.

She turned to the mirror, her fingertips tracing the flowery design of the red lace. The soft and silky black fabric underneath the lace brushed against her knees. The dress finished around them at the front, but the back went a little longer, grazing mid-calf. The neckline was heart-shaped, with two barely visible black spaghetti straps resting on her shoulders. A big black sash shaping the waist and separating the bust from the skirts. It was classy, and it hugged her figure handsomely. She loved it, even more now that she could see it on her.

Jem cleared his throat from behind her. She felt her cheeks heat up. She had forgotten he was there. She looked up at him through the mirror. His gaze met hers, and his lips broke into a grin. “It looks great on you.”

“I love it.” She admitted.

“Are you going to get it?”

She shook her head, frowning. “It’s way out of my budget.” She shrugged. “Guess you and I will be the only ones to know how incredible it looks on me.”

He chuckled. “That’s a shame. I happen to know a certain Welsh boy that would definitely have a heart attack if he ever saw you in that dress.”

She giggled. “It’s a good thing Will never got to see it then.” She pulled her hair up. “Could you-“ Jem was already taking the strings and untying them.

When he was done, he stepped back and made a small gap on the curtain to leave. Half out, he turned to Tessa. “If it helps to persuade you, it really does look incredible on you. You’re already beautiful, but that dress… That dress makes all the best of you jump out even more. And not because it’s a pretty dress in itself, but because you feel beautiful in it. And that shows.” He shook his head. “I already knew red was my favourite colour, but seeing you in that dress… I can’t tell if it’s the colour that fits you, or if you’re the one making the colour even more beautiful.” With that, he left, closing the curtain behind him.

Tessa let out the breath she was holding. Her hand flew to her angel, and behind it, as sure as the ticking of the clockwork in her pendant, was the fast beating of her heart, more rapid than she’d ever known possible.

~/~

Will’s fingers brushed the display of shirts softly. He had already selected a couple options for Jem and now was just walking around aimlessly to burn time.

His fingers brushed against a different material, bringing him out of the black hole of thoughts that his mind had descended into. A leather jacket. He shrugged. Why not?

He looked for his number and pulled it off its hanger. Throwing it around his shoulders, he looked at himself in the mirror. “Hello there, handsome fella.” He winked at his own reflection. “You look dashingly attractive today.”

“Are you talking to yourself?” He spun around quickly. Jessamine stood nearby, a mocking smile on her lips.

He shrugged. “It’s called uping one’s self-confidence.”

She snorted. “More like inflating one’s ego.”

“Either way, I look fantastic, and I deserve to hear it.” He peeled off the jacket and put it back where it was. Picking up Jem’s clothes, he strode towards her. “Where’s Tess?”

She smirked. “I’m so glad you asked.” With a swift turn of her heels, she was walking away. He went after her. “She’s really starting to fit in with our little group, isn’t she?”

Will grinned. “It’s great.”

“It’s terrific.” She inspected some over-priced blouses. “She and Jem have gotten close really fast, haven’t them?”

Will couldn’t explain the chill that overcame him. He felt like he was blindly stepping into nothing. “Yes, they have. It’s good knowing that my best friend and my girlfriend get along great.”

“I’m sure. Let’s hope Jem and Tessa don’t get along a little too well though.”

Falling. Will had stepped off the cliff, and now he was falling into nothing. “It’s not like that.”

“Maybe. But you know how these things go. A fleeting thought, the innocent brush of a hand, a lingering hug, the built-up sexual tension-“

“Jessamine.” He interrupted her, his voice sharply cold. He wouldn’t let his mind wander, wouldn’t let himself imagine it.

“I’m sorry. That was out of line.” It was fake. Her tone, her words, her body language. She was acting, but Will could see through it. “Tessa wouldn’t do that. Why would she? Tessa’s with you. Why would she want him? He’s just a kind, selfless, attractive, single boy. He’s incredibly wise and capable of cracking the occasional joke. He’s able to make friendship with a stranger in the street in less than two minutes. He has a positive impact on every life he touches. He’s a musician, offers free music lessons to children who cannot afford them, and is often described as a literal angel. Not to mention his unwavering loyalty. But really, what is he compared to you? You, with your one friend, because no one else can bear to tolerate your idiotic attitude. You, with the reputation of a playboy and of breaking girls hearts. You, caring about yourself and no one else. You, the one who’s not even enough of a man to face his own family.” She turned her malicious gaze on him. “Why wouldn’t she choose you over him?”

There were tears behind his eyes, threatening to escape. His sight locked on a distant point, he forced himself not to look at Jessamine. He forced himself to ignore her words, but he couldn’t. They rang around in his head, in the voices of those that hurt the most. She wouldn’t. Tessa wouldn’t. Why not? Said a voice, a sound too familiar. Everything Jessamine said is right, and you know it. He’s the better man, the best man. And you? You’re an inconvenience. An obstacle. A shadow. You’re nothing.

Stop! Will wanted to scream. Please, stop. The walls were closing in, and he felt like everyone was watching him. His vision blurred, little black dots dancing around. His right hand shook, and his knees threatened to buckle. His breathing was off, and his heart was too fast in his ears. He took hold of the wall and tried to make the voices stop screaming. Jessamine wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“And to answer your question, Tessa is in the dressing rooms. Jem is with her. When I passed by earlier, he was helping her take off a dress. It must have been a great dress. He said she was beautiful.” Her words drenched him like ice water. “Oh look, there they are.”

Will looked up. They were coming from the dressing rooms, laughing and smiling at each other. The voices got louder. But then his gaze caught Tessa’s. Her face changed, but not in a bad way. The look she gave him made the voices disappear, and Jessamine’s words fade into white noise. He saw her and only her, and the way she looked at him. As soon as she was close enough, he reached for her. He took her into his arms, brushed her hair away from her face, and just stared at her. She tilted her head, her brow scrunched in confusion. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.” He whispered. She lifted an eyebrow in question, but all he did was shake his had and bump their noses together. Her smile widened.

Jem cleared his throat, and Will flinched. How could he possibly face his best friend now? The things he thought… Jem would never do those things to him, would never say those things to him, would never even consider it, and Will knew that. He wasn’t worthy of Jem’s loyalty. “Are those for me?” Will nodded and handed him the clothes. Jem looked from him to Jessamine and back to him. He squinted his eyes at him. “You okay?” He mouthed. Will nodded. He could tell he didn’t believe it, but he let it go. “I’ll be right back.”

“Wait for me.” Jessamine stalked off behind him, a large pile of clothes in her arms.

Will looked Tessa up and down. “Anything good?” He didn’t see a dress on her. If it genuinely was that perfect on her, she would’ve bought it, right? Jessamine had been lying to get his insecurities acting up, and he had fallen for it. He was an idiot, indeed.

She gave him a sad smile. “No. Guess I have to stick with boring unfashionable clothes.”

He grinned. “You look beautiful, regardless. You feel comfortable in these clothes.” He cupped her cheeks. “That shows. You’re not worried about what people think of your clothes, you’re just being yourself. That is the most beautiful version of you.”

“Myself is the most beautiful version of me?” She chuckled.

He paused. “That doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

“No, but it’s the thought that counts.” She tilted her face up and pressed a kiss to his lips. He wanted to melt into the kiss, but she pulled away. He took her hand and didn’t let his harmful thoughts return as she snuggled into his chest, and they rested against the wall, waiting for the other two.

#tessa gray #will herondale #jem carstairs #jessamine lovelace #wessa #jessa #heronstairs #herongraystairs #the infernal devices #the shadowhunters chronicles #tid #tsc

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loquaciousquark · 5 years

Text

Hey, all, I’m probably not going to be around much for a few months aside from queues & TM posts.

Work stress has taken over my life in a way it never has before. A very long story short, my closest coworker (both friend-wise and workload-wise) took another job that began at the end of April. While she knew from November she was going to take this job, she did not inform administration until the very final contractual required moment of 30 days out. This means there has been no chance for admin to be looking for long-term qualified candidates to replace her position, since to get hired on at the school even on a temporary faculty basis takes about six-eight weeks.

(She told me about this job in November, but made me promise at the time not to tell anyone because she was going to tell them soon. Then, as schedules were being planned out for this summer and her time was being allotted under the assumption she would be there, she deliberately said nothing and made me answer the emails so she wouldn’t be “lying.” I have known this hell has been coming for me for five months and haven’t been able to do anything about it because I gave her my word.)

In addition, while not her fault, three other administrative support employees and two other faculty members have left/will be leaving in less than a month as well. One employee’s family member died unexpectedly, one employee was grossly incompetent (although I can’t remember the last time we actually fired someone for that), and the other faculty members are leaving for really good jobs elsewhere. Just very unfortunate timing that means we are all spread excruciatingly thin for now.

This all comes at a time where I am actively beginning that Service Director position for the primary care clinic on top of everything else. This position, while I think a great fit for me, what else I teach in the school, and how I plan/organize/relate to the students, has come at a terrible time because it in and of itself is a massive amount of work, especially getting it off the ground. If I’m going to implement all these new policies and changes I’ve been dreaming of for years, I need to do it at the beginning of my tenure--to try and keep everything going the way it has been and change later once everything calms down would be infinitely more work at that time & have a bunch more pushback from both the students and the faculty I now lead as part of this clinic, many of which have decades of seniority on me.

I’m doing the work of two-and-a-half full-time faculty right now. I do still really love this job, but right now I can’t handle it.

I’m grinding my teeth at night and clenching my jaw during the day. My dentist suddenly wants me to get a bite plate when before a few months ago, I’d never ground my teeth in my life. I’m getting excruciating stress/tension headaches almost every other day from how tight every muscle of my face and neck is. I’ve gained over ten pounds in the last two months from eating like crap because anything that requires more than two steps of prep is mentally, physically, and emotionally impossible, which has the added effect of making me want to cry every time I look in a mirror and see my stomach so far away from my mental “normal,” because I was already seven pounds or so more than I wanted to be. I’m only getting three or four hours of sleep a night despite melatonin because my mind is just reciting checklist after checklist of things I need to do to keep all my sudden responsibilities on track.

I saw my psychiatrist today (which in and of itself was overwhelming--I thought until I was leaving for the appointment that today was my annual physical, and it wasn’t until I was checking the auto-filled address that I realized it was in the wrong building for that. Turns out I’d independently scheduled both the psych follow-up & the physical within a few days of each other, and I’d missed the text appointment reminders for the physical because the psych ones were more recent. I have never straight up no-showed an appointment in my life before this.)

I only had about thirty minutes with her, but part of the problem is that I haven’t taken my meds regularly in over a month because even such a little thing was too difficult. I’m going to try to start back on that, but...

I told her it doesn’t feel like I’m trying to keep plates spinning in the air. It feels like I have them all under control at the moment, they’re just excruciatingly heavy. The only way I’ve been handling this sudden pressure of doing basically two and a half jobs with no margin for error in any of them is being ruthlessly, relentlessly organized. Which is fine, except that I can feel how that changes my personality when I have to go so hard and regimented, and I hate how it feels to have both no margin and no grace.

I had a student the other day email me about a flight she booked for a Memorial Day vacation at 6pm on a Friday, not thinking about how clinic does not always end on the dot at 5pm. We (both students and faculty) are required to stay until the patient’s exam is complete. Sometimes that’s at five. Sometimes that’s at 6:30. On rare occasions I’ve stayed until 9pm in clinical care because that’s what was needed at the time for that patient.

She wanted to get out of clinic with an excused absence. We require three weeks’ minimum notice because when a student leaves without coverage, we have to reschedule all the patients they were meant to see. Her schedule was fully booked, and I had to say no, because right now I have nothing left to try to find an alternative for her. I hate saying no to students, especially when it’s something I truly could help them solve with some investment on my part, but right now--I’m sorry, but I can’t. Why on earth did you schedule a flight for 6pm on a day you have clinic until 5, especially when the airport is a 20-minute drive from the school even without traffic? I can’t fix this for you, not right now. You have to show up to clinic or find your own coverage. I don’t care how you do it, but someone has to be there, and I don’t have anything left in me to help you figure out how to do it.

My mom listens to a guy who sometimes talks about how you have to have a margin in your life to manage your stress. A margin in your work helps you enjoy your leisure time; if you don’t have that margin, even scheduled play feels stressful because you have work playing through your head the whole time.

I’m out of margin. I’m ten feet over the line in every direction I’m so out of margin, and I am constantly being asked by students and other faculty, “How are you doing now that the person who you shared 90% of your work life with is gone? Who’s going to help take over [year-long highly-intensive Methods course] now that Dr. So-and-So is gone? Who’s going to help you teach it since we all know what a gigantic course it is and how it’s always required two people to run full-time, and now you’re down to one who’s also taken on a bunch of other responsibilities at the exact same time?”

and they’re laughing when they say it. and i’m laughing when i tell them the truth, which is “no one.” and we all laugh together and inside my head i am ripping apart under the pressure.

Even if they hire someone by August, it’s not going to mean any relief until September due to onboarding, and even then it won’t be what I really need. This woman I worked with and I had both taught this course together for years, and before that we’d both taken it as students. We knew how it ran inside and out. We knew what the responsibilities were. We had the workload divided evenly and didn’t have to consult over every decision that was made--it just got done. Even if they do hire someone at lightning speed, I still have to train them. I have to show them where the group drive is on the faculty intranet. I have to teach them how it’s organized. I have to show them how to upload quizzes and how to grade them and how to edit the Excel practical documents and the timeframe we expect the grades back and why our grading standards are the way they are and what to say to guest graders and guest lab instructors and show them where the file folders are kept and where the .docx’s are kept and the way things are sorted and how the tests are written and how to extensively edit a PDF file and give them the contact information for faculty IT support (which still ends up being me half the time) and the manual printer and the woman who orders office supplies and the woman who orders clinical equipment and the man who orders building maintenance supplies and when you go to one and not the other and how electronic testing works and how to grade it and how to upload a document with all the specific little requirements the program wants to make sure it imports correctly and how to deal with the errors this program will inevitably throw back because it’s niche software for a niche school and that means it’ll never be user friendly.

It took me almost two years to really feel comfortable being co-coursemaster for this course because it is so unbelievably massive. Even if they hire someone by August, I still won’t have a full-time coursemaster pulling their weight until 2021.

The other metaphor I used with my psychiatrist is that I’m holding on to a cliff’s edge with my fingertips. Right now, I’ve got a pretty decent grip, but that doesn’t change the fact that if you put another pound on my back it might pull me right off the rock.

I don’t see practical relief coming any time soon. “What can we do to help? We want you to know you are very supported right now. You let us know what you need.” What can you do? Hire someone tomorrow who already knows how our computer system works, who can troubleshoot their own IT, who can look at a list of tasks that need to happen to get this Methods course fully ready every single semester of every single year and do them without any handholding from me. Hire someone with as much attention to detail as I’ve had to have because it’s the right way to do the damn job. Hire someone I won’t have to clean up after because to them “the cart in the closet” is the same thing as “the specific place on the labeled closet shelf where the equipment belongs.”

I’m clenching my teeth so hard they’re hurting, so I guess I have to stop. If you see me in-game somewhere, believe me, it’s not because I’ve caught up. It’s because I haven’t and I can’t bear thinking about how much I still have to do.

#quark rambles #optometry /#kindly refrain from reblogging

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mischiefmanagedrp-blog1 · 5 years

Text

Marlene McKinnon

marlene mckinnon. gryffindor. sixth year. half-blood.

out of character info

Name/Alias: charlie Pronouns: she/her Age: 22 in less than a week!!! Join Our Discord: yes [REDACTED] Timezone: GMT Activity: 5-6ish. I tend to be around for plotting and chatting most of the day, but I like to take my time with replies and do them ‘properly’. Also, I tend to write way too much so that always takes some time as well. That being said, I try to queue my replies so that they post at least every 2-3 days. Triggers: none Password: Always Character that you’re applying for: Marlene McKinnon Faceclaim: i’d love to change the fc to Carlson Young, Virgina Gardner or Olivia Holt (order of preference), but I could do Skylar Samuels (Yes, we’ll accept Carlson Young!) Favourite ships/any nonships for your character: Marlene/chemistry really. I personally hate nothing more than forced ships and will always go for chemistry. That being said, I do enjoy Blackinnon if it works out. And I just love Marlene/bad guys or girls in general because, let’s be honest, she’d quickly get bored by a ‘good’ guy/girl.

in character info

Full name: Marlene Saoirse McKinnon Birthday: July 31st, 1960 Sexuality, gender, pronouns: bisexual, cis-gender female & she/her Age: 16 House: Gryffindor Year: 6th

Detailed Info

Personality: It’d be quite the understatement to describe Marlene McKinnon as outgoing. True to her zodiac sign, she’s an extrovert to the core and the life of every party. There’s hardly a party in school that takes place without her and if there is, it isn’t a good one as she’d like to say herself. She has zero problems with getting to know new people and throwing herself into new situations. If anything, she loves the challenge. Warmhearted and kind, it’s easy for her to make new friends and once you have a place in her heart, you’ll have a heart time getting rid of her again. Her loyalty comes without any conditions and even if she might make life hell for you if you betray her and can tease her friends quite a lot, she’ll always have your back, no matter what happens. As exaggerated as it may sound, she’d kill for her friends without thinking twice about it. Actually, she does a lot of things without thinking twice of them. The blonde is a person who acts first and thinks later. Something that has already gotten her in a fair share of trouble, not that she minds. She loves the adventure and generally goes by the rule ‘if it’s forbidden, that’s where the real fun begins’. Her recklessness is one of her biggest weaknesses. Directly followed by her impatience and the fact that she’s easily bored.

There’s nothing Marlene despises more than dishonesty and lies. Some might describe her as a little too direct and honest, tactless even, but at least you can be dead sure that she’ll never lie to you. She might - accidentally - insult you by being too honest, but lies are something she doesn’t do and if she tries to, she’s discovered quite easily as she’s a horrible liar. Nevertheless, she’ can quite charming if she wants to be - which is most of the time. In addition, she likes to flirt a lot and considering that combined with her good looks, it probably doesn’t come as a surprise that she’s already had her fair share of flings during her time at Hogwarts. She doesn’t sleep around, but there’s no harm in kissing and making out a little, is there? Many people would describe her as shallow and superficial at first glance, as she does care a lot about her appearance and has a great sense of fashion (and would never go anywhere without her trademark red lipstick), but those who truly know her, know how profound she actually is. She’s an amazing listener and can actually be quite philosophical around the right people. History: Born on a hot summer night on July 31st, 1960 in the Scottish highlands, Marlene came into the world screaming and fighting. The birth almost cost both mother and daughter their lives due to some complications, but in the end, both came through. Weakened and only barely, but they made it. As the only daughter, Marlene was the center of attention as a child. Their parents had hoped for a little girl to somewhat balance out the male energy in the house and she was everything they’d hoped for and even more. As much as she loved to play with dolls and was a typical ‘girly’ girl, she was also quite the tomboy, though, always begging her older brothers to take her with them, whenever they went outside to explore the wild landscape surrounding their family home in the middle of the Scottish highlands, or simply following them when they wouldn’t take her. She was a wild, loud and stubborn child, to say the least, but with that attitude, she fit right in with the rest of the McKinnons who were a rather loud family per se. Quietness was something you found seldom in their family home, most of the time there was at least someone shouting or laughing loudly, but it was always filled with unconditional love and support for each other as well.

Having grown up with tales and stories about her parents’ adventures at Hogwarts and having two older brothers, who went to Hogwarts before her, saying that Marlene was impatient by the time her own acceptance letter finally arrived would be quite the understatement. If it had been up to her, she’d have left with her oldest brother the moment he got on the train for the first time despite being barely 7 years old. So when the day finally arrived for her to get onto the Hogwarts Express for the first time, she couldn’t have been happier or more excited. Growing up knowing about the wizarding world and society, she’d already had her fair share of acquaintances and friends before getting on the train for the first time, but even if she hadn’t, she’d have fit right in either way. After all, even 11-year-old Marlene already had the self-confidence and outgoing personality of a girl much older than herself. It didn’t really surprise anybody - and especially not Marlene - when the Sorting Hat put her into Gryffindor, the same house as her oldest brother even if the majority of her family had been sorted into Ravenclaw. As this was the house she’d been hoping for, she certainly wasn’t disappointed at all and instead looked forward to having a great time in this new adventure that was the next few years of her life.

Despite having always had a keen perception, Marlene definitely wasn’t the best student of her year. Not because she was stupid or didn’t actually have the abilities to be better, but simply because she prioritized having fun and enjoying time with her friends over homework and school in general. If it wasn’t for her intelligence, she’d probably have gotten much worse grades, but still, she was average at best. Not that she particularly cared. For her life was about actually enjoying life and making every minute count instead of burying your nose in a book. If it wasn’t for a few studious friends (most important of all, her best friend Lily Evans), she’d have gotten into serious trouble at some point, but this way, she always scraped by. It wasn’t until the summer before her fifth year that she truly realized that she might start to study more if she wanted to have any shot at becoming an auror after graduation like her father and oldest brother which had been a long-time dream of hers. Because average grades wouldn’t get you into the program and wouldn’t even allow you to select the subjects necessary to qualify for the training. She barely managed to get the required grades in the OWLs to proceed with the right set of NEWT classes to become an auror in training, but she knows that won’t be enough to actually make it which is why she’s now more determined than ever to actually become a good student in her sixth year. The only real question is if that determination survives the first weeks of school or if it dies a quick death as soon as the first parties start again and the real fun begins. Sample paragraph: Merlin, Marlene hadn’t been that bored in a long, long time. And the worst thing about it was that she was to blame for her own misery. She could bite herself in the ass for having suggested that Lily and she studied for Potions together because let’s be honest, she’d much rather make out with the Giant Squid in the lake than waste another hour of that beautiful, astonishingly warm spring day inside remembering the recipes for the potions they were currently studying in class. And yet, she couldn’t quite ignore that little voice in the back of her head telling her that she strongly needed this study session if she wanted any chances of passing the OWLs with an Expectations Exceeded. “Honestly, I have no bloody idea of how you do this, Lilykins”, the blonde said with a slightly dramatic, over the top sigh of frustration and looked up from the book in front of her at her best friend, “how can you actually concentrate on that crap without going insane or boring yourself to death?” Her big blue eyes fixed on her friend, she stretched her long legs, that, like so often, were only barely covered by her skirt, under the table. Even though nobody in their right mind would have wasted this beautiful afternoon in the library, Marlene still couldn’t have let the chance of dressing up a little past. After all, if she already had to study, she thought she might as well look cute doing it. Besides, wasn’t dressing up about doing it to make yourself happy instead of doing it for anybody else any way? “Be honest with me, do you actually enjoy this?” Even though her tone was teasing and the little smirk gracing her red lips confirmed that she wasn’t out for a serious conversation and rather just wanted to have some fun, a keen observer would notice the hint of curiosity in her eyes. Sometimes Marlene wondered if there was something wrong with her for not being able to take her classes as seriously as some of her classmates, especially because her siblings were the complete opposite - not that she liked to share that insecurity with anybody else if she didn’t have to.

Her eyes lightening up a little and her smirk intensifying, she closed the stupid book with one determined motion. “Do you know what, I’ve had enough of that crap today”, she said, ignoring the fact that she spoke a little louder than appropriate in the library. Who cared if Madame Pinch threw her out, at least she’d have an excuse to go out into the sun then. There was always the next day to worry about exams, right? A part of her was well aware of how that attitude was going to get her nothing in the exams, but then again, hadn’t she already shown enough effort by studying for the past two hours? Wasn’t it about time they enjoyed the day? “And you have had enough as well”, she added, closing Lily’s book for her, ignoring any protests. “If you’re an old lady, you won’t regret not having studied an hour more, especially not because you don’t need it anyway. We both know that you could probably go into the Potions exam after a long night of drinking way too much fire whiskey and dancing without a single hour of preparation and still ace it. No, what you’re going to regret are the hours you didn’t spend with your friends. Or cute guys preferably.” A short pause. “Or girls, you know I’d never judge you either way.” Her words accompanied by a little, cheeky, wink, Marlene shrugged just slightly. “Talking up cute boys, what’s the latest update on you and Potter?” Wiggling her eyebrows, she chuckled amusedly as she saw Lily’s reaction. “Have you finally agreed to a date with that poor boy or are you going to let him suffer some more.” She knew she’d probably ‘pay’ for bringing up that topic, after all, it was no secret that Lily claimed to hate him and wasn’t ready to admit that the opposite might be the case. Which it obviously was, as a best friend you simply knew things like that even if your friend wasn’t willing to admit it just yet. However, that certainly didn’t mean that Marlene didn’t have a great time teasing her about the whole thing. The more Lily argued to be annoyed by his advances, the funnier it was really. “You know, I always know a few other guys I could hook up you up with if you really want him to stop hitting on you”, she suggested in playful seriousness, “I’m pretty sure, he’d get the message if you made out with, I don’t know, Samuel Bones, for example, on the next party. If you’re really not interested, that is.”

Other Information (optional)

Headcanons:

Even though the McKinnons have a long history of witches and wizards, they’re still ‘only’ half-bloods, as they’ve mixed with muggles and muggleborn witches a lot in past and recent history.

Quidditch Team: yes, Beater for the Gryffindor team Clubs: Duelling Club Any changes to the bio: none Anything else of importance: not really I think?

#accepted #accepted application #submission #marlene mckinnon

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writings-from-unknown · 6 years

Text

(Bomb) Rush Blush

Author’s note: I can’t believe out of EVERY fandom I’ve been in, this is the one that gets me to actively write a ship based fic and I can’t believe that it’s these two idiots in particular that did it or the fact that I still plan I writing more for the Splatoon manga at some point... Whatever, it probably isn’t good but enjoy anyways. The pairing is Goggles x Rider.

Rider had almost expected a peaceful day in Inkopolis Square. The absence of a certain loud and ridiculous team contributed to that, though their disappearance was a bit worrisome. Last time it nearly ended in one or two people being blended and the rest having to stay trapped or out live a certain maniacal electronic. If he didn’t come searching for one of the idiots, they would have been done for... Though, they almost were done for anyways, that phone had a few dirty tricks, a couple involving Rider himself... He’d rather not think of it if he can avoid it.

A slight shiver runs through the Inkling’s body before he shakes his head. Looking towards the shops, he decided to test the new weapons that arrived at Ammo Knights before trying anymore ranked for the day. He needed to clear his head after those kinds of memories anyways... However, the Inkling can already hear noise from the back of the store when he enters. Despite being irritated by the crashing, the Inkling couldn’t help but be curious about who or what could be making such a noise. Grabbing one of the new weapons he thought he might have vaguely heard Sheldon call a “Nautilus”, the Inkling heads out back to check on the commotion. Seeing the other Inkling in the back, Rider wonders why he’s as surprised as he is.

The other Inkling was a boy younger than Rider with blue tentacles, done up in a similar ponytail to his own. They wore a yellow and black jacket constantly now with yellow and black shoes to match. The goggles perched on the boy’s head was his signature and what he was nicknamed after, though it’s not as if Rider could comment much on that, being nicknamed after his own jacket. The happy but ridiculous Inkling was one of the members of the missing team, being mistaken for the leader by some as he usually ends up accepting or initiating the challenges that the Blue Team faced and through some combination of ludicrous luck and and absurd actions, he almost always gives his team the perfect opening for a win. Looking back on it, Rider can only remember a handful of times the team lost their match.

The blue one was apparently messing with the new dualies, whatever they were called and he seems to be having a grand time. Then again, that’s not saying much out of the norm for the boy. His entire team spends their match only concerned with how much fun they’re having and Goggles rarely doesn’t have a doofy grin plastered on his face. The green one debates on turning around and never letting the other know he was there but his mouth decides for him before he can stop it.

“I guess I should have known what all the commotion was. No one else in Inkopolis could make such noise just by testing a weapon.”

The other boy jumps a bit from the sudden chatter and spins around, his signature grin still plastered on his face.

“Oh! Rider! I didn’t expect to see you here!”

The blue one skips over to the older Inkling. Rider notices the bright glow from the other’s tentacles, realizing that he likely just stopped the other before they got to test the weapon’s special. The green one shrugs off the observation.

“I could say the same to you. Shouldn’t you be off somewhere with the rest of your team? You’re the only one I’ve seen here today.”

“Nope! Glasses caught a cold so we told him to stay home and Bobble is staying with Headphones at her place for now. I’ve been running around in solo queue.”

The older one nods a bit, unwilling to admit he’s mildly relieved to hear that’s the reason why he’s not seeing the energetic team out and about. One’s sick, the other two are taking a break. At least isn’t going to be an issue of hunting them down to see if they’re alive.

“Okay then, but why are you here?”

“I wanted to practice with new weapons while my team was out! Gloves made the dualies look pretty fun and I heard there was a new kind so I came here to check them out! They’re pretty fun so far!”

The older one sighs and shakes his head. The younger of the two was a C- in ranked and it was with good reason. He couldn’t take a match seriously to save his own life. So of course he’d be destroying the training area to amuse himself.

“So you’re destroying the test area for amusement rather than testing them out to actually learn them?”

“Well... Not exactly... I wanna learn them but whats the point in learning something if you can’t have fun with them?”

“It gives you an advantage in combat if you know different weapons regardless if you like using them, idiot.”

“Hey! Just because I don’t take everything super seriously like you, it doesn’t mean I’m an idiot!”

“Maybe not but you sure act like one some days. Weren’t you in the tournament against Emperor because you jumped off a tower and destroyed a truck?”

“We won that tournament!”

“But wasn’t that why you entered?”

The blue one goes silent and pouts when the older one smirks, obviously taking the silence as a victory. The silence carries on as the younger watches the older begin to test one of the newer weapons. Suddenly, the younger’s expression brightens up and he begins to wait for the other to ink a decent portion of the testing area before speaking.

“You know, maybe you’re right Rider. I should probably learn a couple weapons at least.”

The older glances back, slightly suspicious by the sudden change of tune the other seems to have experienced.

“Is that so?”

“Yep, but I should start by finishing my tests with this weapon and still have one thing left to try.”

The other turns to face the blue one with their wide grin, confusedly glaring at them until something suddenly hits him. His tentacles are still glowing. He never tried his special and they’re not the same ink color. The green one’s eyes widen in shock for a moment before returning to a glare and growling.

“Don’t you DARE you little-”

“Too late!”

The green one yelps as the first bomb goes flying past their head, turning around they see it coming back towards them and is forced to dive into their ink from their squid form to dodge that bomb and the many others that follow.

“I don’t know about you but I’m having a great time Rider! I should learn weapons with you more often!”

The green one once again growls and risks being outside of his ink for a moment to fire a few shots at his blue rival. A couple of the shots land before the other is smart enough to continue throwing bombs from a safer distance. It’s not as though the green one would actually seriously injure the other though, as reluctant as he is to admit it. He adores the blue nuisance even when he’s like this.

When the bombs finally stop the green one stomps over to the laughing idiot and makes sure to get a tight grip on the other’s collar so they couldn’t get away. The other would seem almost entirely unphased if it wasn’t for the light blue slowly creeping along their cheeks.

“... You know you look really cute when you’re angry or shocked, right?”

The green one’s grip slips for a moment and he has to focus on keeping his glare. What was with this idiot? He could be get punched at any moment and that’s what he chooses to say? The older one begins to believe more and more that there’s no bigger idiot in Inkopolis, as charming as he can be.

“You look especially cute when you blush. The green shows up well on you.”

“Shut up! What is with you?! Out of all the things to say in this situation, THAT’S what you choose to say!?”

The younger merely shrugs, still having a light grin on their face.

“I don’t know. I was just saying what I thought. I mean, it must be somewhat ok. You haven’t punched me yet.”

“... Goggles, just shut up.”

“Make me.”

“... What?”

“I said ‘make me’.”

The older one growls again and the younger’s grin widens.

“Not gonna shut up until you make me! You know I could go on for hours and-”

The younger was suddenly silenced when a pair of lips was placed over his own. The blue one freezes up for a moment from the suddenness but slowly melts into it, returning the affection. When the two break apart, the younger goes to look away, flustered from the action but the other grabs his chin and forces him to look back.

“Will that keep you shut up Goggles?”

“... Yes...”

“Good...”

The green inkling lets go of the blue one and turns away, still trying to figure out exactly what in Inkopolis made him think that was a good idea. Meanwhile, the blue one just stares at the green Inkling silently considering something.

“... Rider, can I say one more thing?”

“Make it quick Goggles...”

“I... I love you Rider.”

“... I love you too idiot.”

The blue one’s face breaks out into it’s signature grin before quickly and tightly hugging the other. Rider’s eyes widen in shock momentarily before softening and allowing a slight smirk to settle on his face. He accepts that he’ll just have to learn the new weapons another day soon after.

#splatoon #splatoon 2 #splatoon manga #goggles #rider #goggles x rider #rider x goggles

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still-a-hetalian · 6 years

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fruk!

Thank you for the ask!!!!

Big spoon/little spoon:

Honestly, I think it would justdepend on the kind of day either had.

Favorite non-sexual activity:

I think these ridiculousold farts just love sitting next to each other as Arthur works on his needlepointand France reads his current favorite romance novel. Like they strike me as thekind of people that really appreciate just being near each other instead of constantlyhaving to do something together.

Who uses all the hot water:

France, thelength of his showers is damn-near legendary, I mean it does take time to carefor those gorgeous locks of his tho

Most trivial thing they fight over:

Seeing as howthey bicker over everything I can’t think of the most trivial. Though one timeEngland said that Brie cheese is overrated and France kicked him out of bed fora solid week.

Who does most of the cleaning:

As for generalhouse cleaning I see both, they’re both busy and they know it’ll get donequicker if they work together. Since France always cooks though, Arthur alwayscleans up the kitchen.

What has a season pass on their dvr/who controls the netflixqueue:

Oh boy this isone thing they fight about a lot, England always wants to watch BBC dramas andFrance always wants to watch French art house films (and never with captions,the horror). It usually ends withtaking turns.

Who calls up the super/landlord when the heat’s not working:

England, theirlandlord is kind of stubborn and he has absolutely no qualms about beingaggressive and calling every hour until the heat gets fixed.

Who steals the blankets:

Both, thefights they’ve had at 2am over blankets could rival any war they’ve fought in. They’vehonestly thought about just buying two sets of sheets for the bed.

Who leaves their stuff around:

Both, Francehas a tendency to just throw clothes around when deciding what to wear, andEngland tends to leave paperwork and his craft supplies scattered around theirplace (France has stepped on many a stray sewing needle and is. Not. Impressed.)they both want to get mad at the other about it but they both understand thatthey are literally no better than the other. England also strikes me as theperson who never can find his keys, wallet, or phone, and France just stands sighingthere while England cuts around like mad until France tells him exactly wherehe put all of it.

Who remembers to buy the milk:

Neither, theygo food shopping together (England insists on him just going since France doesall the cooking but France 100% does not trust England to grab the right thingsfor him so they both just end up going even if it’s a little hard to navigatewith their busy schedules) and literally both of them forget every time. LikeFrance even always writes out food shopping lists of everything they need butstill forgets until they’re like on their front doorstep it hits them that theyforgot it.

Who remembers anniversaries:

I can seeeither or. Like they both live such busy lives that neither of them get angry overit if the other forgets. France usually remembers naturally but England alwaysmakes sure he marks it on a calendar or something to remind himself, sometimesworks, sometimes not. Really they only celebrate their anniversary every yearafter, say, their ten year benchmark because France is a die-hard romantic andEngland knows it makes France happy.

Who cooks normally?

FRANCE! Hewill not let England step foot in his kitchen!

How often do they fight?

Bicker?Literally all the time, it’s usually about the little stuff. But like full-onfights? I feel like there was probably a lot of that in the beginning of theirrelationship bc lets be real these two have some major baggage to sort out butas their relationship progresses I think after they’ve gone through it allso it’s really not often. I feel like France would be really pragmatic aboutworking shit out in their relationship.

What do they do when they’re away from each other?

Seeing as how they’rejobs keep them in different countries a lot I imagine there’s a lot ofphone-calling (France insists on calling every night, and England says itstotally unnecessary but deep down doesn’t think he could fall asleep if theydon’t talk at least once a day) and once Skype becomes a thing, the distanceisn’t nearly as painful since they do at least get to see each other. They’re also both thankful that they’re stillrelatively close since they’re usually just a train ride away.

Nicknames for each other?

Nothingspecial. Darling, mon cher, love, etc. They use the really sappy and ridiculousones sarcastically when they’re mad at each other tho (cuddle muffin, babycakes, etc.)

Who is more likely to pay for dinner?

England, Francewill always insist but England always is able to distract him and take care ofthe check before France even notices.

What would they get each other for gifts?

I am completelyconvinced France would get England flowers like all the time, but besides thatI can see them as the kind of people would surprise the other with little giftsthat just reminded them of the other. One time though England bought France amug in the shape of a frog and in return France bought England a “magic tricksfor children” set.

Who made the first move?/ Who started the relationship?

I think Englanddid, I know it’s kind of cheesy but I like to imagine that they were in themiddle of a huge argument and a “Because I love you, you idiot!” slipped outand cue them being together ever since. They just don’t strike me a couple thatcould get together any other way seeing as how they’ve known each other for solong and France is usually so flirtatious in general that if he tried to startanything, England would just write off as him being his usual thing.

Who kissed who first?

France, definitely, after Arthurtold him he loved him he just went for it

Who remembers things?

Neither,they’re a mess tbh. Both will remember something at the last minute and justcue the mayhem that ensues.

Who cusses more?

ARTHUR! 100%!The guy has the vocabulary of a sailor (yes that is 100% a pirate!England joke).Though France definitely has been known to mutter a few swears under hisbreath, mostly during particularly annoying world meetings…

What would they do if the other was hurt?

I’m not sure ifthis means in like a physical or emotional way. As for physical, like I’m surethey’re both pretty well versed in first-aid at this point after so many warsso there’s that. If it was serious I feel like they’d be the couple that getsangry at the other for letting themselves get hurt then just dissolve into apuddle of tears. And emotionally, teaand blankets can solve almost any problem.

#ask meme #hetalia #fruk #aph england #aph france

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pop-punklouis · 6 years

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Hi hello guys

I don’t know how to really start this, but for anyone who still keeps up with this blog or me i’m sure you’ve noticed the rise and decline of my moods and posts over the past six or so months. I haven’t been posting my writings on here. I haven’t been motivated to fully put myself into projects. I haven’t been myself- or the self that i’ve come to know and learned to love over the past few years, and that is a terrifying thought. I was in absorbed in a lot of darkness (depression, anxiety) before I was able to pull myself out and rediscover the life that isn’t always bleak or full of dispensable people, and I did well for the most part. Of course I had my falls and I still battled my mental illnesses, but I had built myself up into the self that I was proud to call me.

But, over the course of these last six months or so, I’ve had major fallout with who that self is and what she looks like and what her purpose is both personally and generally. I’ve watched as that self has crumbled piece by piece and the shadow of who I was before rear it’s head. In sum, I’ve become a similar version to the self I was- the self i promised myself i’d never let myself get back to. But I did, and that’s where I sit now.

Lost. Confused. Infuriated. Melancholic. Defeated. About everything. About how I allowed myself to become this version that I despise and can’t view in a mirror without negativity sprouting. About how I’ve isolated myself and closed my life off to every single person even remotely close to me where no one knows much of anything about me, and maybe i like it that way. maybe i like being a blank canvas that others can throw their problems or conversations onto without having to hear about my life on top of that. maybe i like being chained to it all. maybe i like being the convenient friend but never the dear friend.

regardless, very personal, very fragile, and very life-altering events have happened recently that has only intensified this self into expanding past what it once was, and i’m trapped in the process as i watch it overwhelm me. as i watch myself get hooked on hydrocodone to drown out the pain and reduce my insomnia. as i watch myself become the villain in others stories of life. as i watch myself form a worse body image onto who i am. as i watch myself smoke so much pot almost every night that i’m puking for days after. as i watch my acts of kindness & support rarely get recognition so i mess around with my emotionally abusive ex because i know he gives me a type of recognition no matter its implications. as i watch myself become less and less of who i know i am and more of who i don’t want to experience.

and i suppose i’m saying all of this (or venting more like) is because i’ve hit such a standstill with my mental state over myself and my future that i am wandering, wandering just looking for anything to help reconstruct me and i don’t know how long that’ll take or how much worse i’ll get before it happens. But what i do know is that I will be taking another huge step back from social media (as i did recently yet it didn’t seem to do much as of then) and figuring it all out and how to survive this looming aura that’s came over me. I won’t be keeping this blog as active during this time and most of my posts will be ran by a queue i’m sure.

Of course i’ll still pop in from time to time, but i am getting away for a bit to try and find that love and humanity that’s been stripped and search for the ability to feel again in the upmost capacity.

Thanks for understanding (for anyone who still cares enough to even be reading this far lmao) and I’ll see you on the other hopefully brighter side xo

#i shouldve made this a read more but alas #maybe ill try therapy again who knows #but thats all folks!#ciao

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angry-healers · 6 years

Text

Sometimes I wish AST wasn't as pretty as it is

Sorry, this is long and I don’t think it breaks rule 1 (correct me if I’m wrong)

So, I have a friend who is really bad at mmos who started playing XIV a few months ago. All fine and dandy, but he is not the best at mmos. He is one of those “I will do what I want for attacks and if people call me out, they are the problem” type people when it comes to these games, which is 100% frustrating because he’s not like this when it comes to most other things.

For the most part, I didn’t play with him and I assumed that he must have been learning decently considering he said that people on Primal had invited him to play with them and they had been showing him the ropes and it was really helping him. At the time, I played on Aether.

Cue some drama with my FC happening that’s totally irrelevant to this story (but could probably be submitted as a story anyways) and I move to Primal because I was done with that. Get settled with different friend, end up in nice FC, everything’s good.

So, new-to-xiv friend is like “aww I wish you would have moved to my server, we could have played together.” Feel kinda bad at the time, but I decide to see, “Hey, maybe he’s gotten a bit better since the other games we played together. People change. I’ll give him a chance.”’

He starts talking to me about how AST is his main and how he’s in love with it. At the time I have not much to say due to personal salt, and I just listen, thinking it’s good that he is enjoying himself.

Something comes up about how he plays AST as a DPS class more than a healer though, and at first, it doesn’t click. DPSing on an AST? Absolutely fine and all, and I encourage healers to at least try dpsing before they decide theyre 100% against doing it and let the end decision be theirs alone. I tell him that’s a good mentality to have and I’m glad he’s not afraid to try DPSing, especially because it’s much easier now to dps and heal.

Then, he says it. “Oh, I don’t heal. I just DPS. I play this as a DPS class.”

I can’t help but feel a bit confused a bit by this and I ask him “You don’t heal? How are you getting through dungeons without healing?” and he simply states that he just doesn’t go to dungeons. Weird, because he’s somewhere around 55, I think 58? I ask him how he leveled and he simply says that he grinds fates.

Well, his own thing, I shrug and tell myself. He’s not in the DF and he’s not inflicting it on people, and that’s all I can really ask of him without getting into a fight thats not worth it, because going into dungeons and refusing to heal wouldn’t fly in any group. And I wouldn’t blame anyone who refused to put up with that.

Flash forward to a bit later.

At some point, he brings up AST again and I’m almost afraid to ask, but I figure “I’m a sucker for this stuff, let me see what he says.”

At this point, he is healing. I’m relieved to hear that he picked up actually trying to heal, but it all slips away into nothingness fairly soon. It isn’t long before he’s slamming the other 2 healers because they’re not AST. I let out an audible groan, but whatever. He’s just being proud of what he is and maybe he just enjoys AST as his preferred healing class. I steer the topic somewhere else because I don’t need another speech about how I’m a WHM and I’m inferior.

Eventually we get to the topic of training, and I say I’m thinking of just spamming palace. He says he’s interested, I make a cross world party, and try to queue us in to 51-60. No bueno. He doesn’t have a 1-50 clear.

I tell him we need that out of the way, and he asks me if I can add a friend to go. I open up recruitment again, tell him to tell them the pass, and spend 50 minutes waiting while he makes small talk about whatever. I’m fine with wanting to chat about other things, but I’m just like “Dude, it’s been a while, is she joining?”

He explains how she doesn’t want to do palace and the two were just catching up. At this point I’m holding back my anger, but I try to be the good friend. I end recruitment and go to queue us with randoms.

Immediately he declines without telling me. When I figure out it’s him, I ask why. Apparently, he doesn’t like randos. I figure I’m 99/99 and I can easily do this, so I make an attempt. The two of us go in.

First 2 sets of floors are fine until the near end where I notice the following: He isn’t putting on diurnal. I tell him “Hey you should put that on,” and he just ignores me saying this.

We get through the 2nd set and go into the 3rd.

He still isn’t putting on Diurnal.

I bring it up again, and he just ignores me. Ok, maybe he just dislikes diurnal. Maybe he prefers nocturnal just that much.

4th set of floors. Alright. I can do this, I tell myself.

We hit 50. I tell him, “Oh, nocturnals unlocked. You should put that up.”

At this point, he’s apparently had enough and tells me to stop telling him how to heal. I’m so shocked I’m not even mad. I’m just completely in awe. I have to ask it at that point, “You know what your sects are for, right?”

At this point he’s practically yelling at me over mic how sects are worthless, how he doesn’t need them, how they’re wastes of MP, and why shields and regens aren’t beneficial to his healing style. He also takes the time to explain to me how he doesn’t “heal low content anyways” so he only keeps benefic 2 on his bar and if I “don’t like it,” then I can find some other idiot to babysit me.

At some point in the floor he hits a luring trap.

Sweet, sweet karma.

I watch him die. I don’t even try to hide it.

He whines that I wasn’t doing my job of protecting him, the healer, and I say "Huh, a sect and aspected benefic would have probably helped keep you alive while you dps them down" and I voluntarily take aggro before they can disperse. I purposely die and say “I have FC stuff to do now.” and I just drop call right there.

All I can say is why?

Needless to say, friend or not, I blocked his ass on XIV and I avoid talking to him about any MMO as much as possible now.

My fave thing about not blocking him on discord tho? He “forgave” me for this incident as he sees it as “no big deal, since it was clear I didn’t know what I was doing either.”

I knew exactly what I was doing.

(submitted by anonymous)

================

As long as you didn’t state actual names, it’s a-okay!

Also you don’t need a friend like that. I have friends who are similar. They’re really shitty in MMOs but fine in real life so I just don’t play MMOs with them. Games tend to change people. And your ‘friend’ seems to think FFXIV is like WOW or DnD where you can actively choose a path and play method for your class. A lot of F2P mmos are like that, especially those where potions are more high value than an actual healing class such as Elsword, Revelation Online and Blade&Soul. Those games also have leveling options that are mostly in the field rather in dungeons (well, except for Elsword but yeah).

If the first thing that came out of my friend’s mouth is “I don’t heal” or “I main X sect” or “sects are useless” I would literally go to their house, kick down their door, smack their face and throw their PC out the window.

-- Mod Mhi

#healer discourse #final fantasy xiv #healing horror stories #submission #notes from mod mhi #long post

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thisdiscontentedwinter · 7 years

Text

hunger - chapter 12

Hunger master post.

Stiles and Scott set up camp in the living room and queue up Netflix. Stiles knows what this is. This is denial. This is a desperate attempt to flood their brains with something normal—Parks and Rec, and popcorn, and soda—to drown out the fact that something just happened that makes no sense. Stiles and his dad were experts at this, when his mom was sick and then when she was gone. Stiles still can’t watch Night at the Museum without trying to push down a rising sense of dread. He still can’t remember his dad’s laugh without also remembering all those times it was so, so close to breaking. But that was what they did. They pushed on. They pretended things were normal, until they almost were again. The new normal, anyway. Then that was ripped away too.

Entropy.

All those nights in front of the TV with his dad, both of them pretending that as long as they kept looking at the screen and laughing at the jokes then they didn’t have to notice that their universe was crumbling.

Scott’s eyes changed color and glowed.

He can hear heartbeats.

He tracked Stiles by scent from clear across town.

There was something outside the house and it howled.

Denial isn’t going to be able to hold this dam back for long, is it?

Stiles sticks his hand into the bowl of popcorn. “Scott?”

Scott looks at him worriedly, like he knows Stiles is about to totally annihilate their fragile peace. “What?”

Sleep paralysis.

Imagination.

Frontotemporal dementia.

A nightmare.

It’s strange how the human brain rationalizes the things it doesn’t want to believe. It’s strange how hard it works to push away the things it can’t explain.

Scott isn’t some kind of monster.

Stiles’s mom wasn’t dying.

Everything is going to be okay.

Stiles crunches on his popcorn. “We should watch the Li’l Sebastian episode.”

Scott flashes him a grateful smile and navigates to the Netflix menu.

Stiles watches, but doesn’t take it in.

Entropy.

Some things are crumbling, but some things are also falling into place.

The night creeps slowly on toward dawn.

***

“Do not tell me you two have been sitting there all night,” Melissa McCall says when she gets home from work in the morning, and Stiles and Scott exchange a guilty look. Melissa narrows her eyes at the pair of them. “You’d better just have woken up early and decided to watch some TV before school, Scott.”

“That’s exactly what happened,” Scott says, but he’s a terrible liar. Stiles has only known him a few weeks at most, and he already knows his tells. The fact that he turns bright red is probably the biggest.

“Hurry up or you’ll be late for school,” Melissa says.

Scott almost flies upstairs to get dressed.

Melissa then turns her guilt-inducing stare on Stiles. “Try and stay diurnal, Stiles, please.” She sighs. “You might not have school to worry about, but your health is fragile right now. You’re underweight, and you’re still recovering from your fever. All night movie marathons and popcorn are not going to help you. Make better choices, Stiles.”

Stiles knows this is supposed to be a lecture, but he can’t help the way he warms to her words. He can’t help the way he relaxes, and his mouth quirks at one side.

“What?” Melissa asks. “Stiles?”

“Sorry,” he says. He meets her gaze and quickly looks down again. “You’re being such a mom right now.”

“Well…” She sits down beside him. “That’s kind of my job around here.”

“It’s been a while,” Stiles murmurs.

Melissa reaches out and takes his hand. She squeezes it. “Is it okay if I do that for you?”

He loves this woman. He really loves her.

“Yeah,” he says, not daring to lift his gaze still. Like, she’s already seen him at his worst, probably, when he was crying on her shoulder in the hospital, but that doesn’t mean he wants to break down in front of her every day, right? A guy has to maintain some sort of dignity, and Stiles thinks what he loves about Melissa the most is that she lets him do that. She asks if it’s okay for her to be his mom when he needs it.

She squeezes his hand again. “Good.”

They sit together on the couch for a long time.

***

Stiles pulls Scott aside on his way to school. “Tell Allison I’m here,” he says.

“What?” Scott’s brows draw together sharply. “Are you sure?”

He’s not. He’s really not.

“Yes,” he says.

Scott’s gaze drops to his chest. No, Stiles thinks, to his beating heart.

“I’m not sure of anything,” Stiles admits. “But even when we think we’re standing still, we’re really losing ground.”

He spends the day sitting in the living room, staring out the gap in the curtains, while Melissa sleeps upstairs.

Has Scott had a class with Allison yet? Has he spoken to her yet? Has he told her yet? Has she told Kate?

Stiles’s heart seizes with every car that passes. He expects the police to knock on the door at any moment.

But nobody comes.

By the time Scott gets home from school, Stiles feels like he’s held his breath all day.

***

Allison comes over after Melissa goes to work. She hugs Stiles so tightly that he thinks he hears his ribs creak.

“I was so worried about you!” she says.

“What’s your dad hunting in the Preserve?” Stiles asks her.

She releases him, her brow crinkled. “What?”

“Sorry. Total non sequitur,” Stiles says. “But also a really important question. What’s your dad hunting in the Preserve?”

Allison raises her eyebrows. “Um… a mountain lion?”

No, Stiles thinks, an alpha.

Allison tilts her head. “What has that got to do with anything?”

“I don’t know,” Stiles says. He holds her gaze and tries to read her expression. He’s aware of Scott hovering anxiously close by. He’s aware of how very wrong this can go. “Allison, I think your aunt had something to do with the Hale fire.”

A hundred emotions cross her face before her expression shutters. “What?” she asks flatly.

“I heard her on the phone to my dad,” Stiles says. “Telling him to drop the investigation or he’d regret it.”

“Oh.” Allison steps back. She smiles tightly. “Sure.”

Stiles watches her warily.

“You don’t want your dad to be a dirty cop, so you pick my aunt instead, right?” She presses her mouth into a thin line.

“It’s not like that,” Stiles says, but of course there’s the possibility that it is like that. Exactly like that. That Stiles is misremembering, that he’s delusional, that the electrical activity that should be lighting up his brain is flickering into darkness patch by patch, like a string of broken Christmas lights.

Allison’s expression softens. “I’m sorry about your dog, Stiles.”

“It’s not about him.” His eyes are stinging. “There’s more going on here than that. This isn’t just some revenge fantasy for my dog. This is--”

The sudden knock at the door startles all of them.

There’s silence for a moment and then:

“Beacon Hill’s Sheriff’s Department. Open the door.”

***

Jordan Parrish actually looks regretful as he puts the cuffs on Stiles. Stiles figures that’s probably for Melissa McCall’s sake more than his. Melissa’s going to be a lot of trouble.

“I didn’t tell!” Allison says, her face streaked with tears as Parrish leads Stiles toward the car. “I didn’t tell!”

It really doesn’t matter who told, does it? The end result is the same.

“I’m calling Mom!” Scott promises him. “And my dad! Don’t say anything until you get a lawyer!”

Stiles nods.

“Watch your head,” Parrish says, and helps him into the back of the cruiser.

The door slams. Moments later, Parrish sits in the driver’s seat and starts the engine. He regards Stiles in the rearview.

“Hey, Jamie. It’s not as bad as you think, okay?” He smiles slightly. “The sooner we sort all this out, the sooner you can put it all behind you.”

Stiles swallows, and turns his head to watch Scott’s street slide past the window. He blinks, and tears blur his vision. Coronas burst from the streetlights. He blinks again, and looks at the rearview.

“Who told you where I was?” he asks, his voice rasping.

“Got an anonymous tip.”

“Is Mrs. McCall going to get in trouble?”

“Don’t you worry about Melissa.”

That’s not an answer, is it? Stiles looks out the window again.

They’re getting closer to downtown now, driving though a street of warehouses. Stiles thinks he remembers this area from when his dad sometimes took him on patrols. Stiles felt very grown up whenever that happened. Sometimes his dad even let him wear his hat, and they’d buy takeout and eat it in the car. Stiles always looked forward to times like that, like they were special treats instead of nights when his sitter had to cancel. Stiles practically grew up in his dad’s cruiser, and the station.

Sudden headlights blind him, and he flinches away from the window.

“What the hell?” Parrish mutters.

The truck is coming up on them fast. Too fast. And then it’s colliding with them, the force of the impact sending the cruiser spinning off the road and into a fence. Stiles slams into the cage and bounces back onto the seat.

Not… not an accident? A pit maneuver.

Parrish grabs for his radio. His face is pale in the glare of the truck’s headlights, and there’s a bright thread of crimson blood running down the side of his face.

The truck backs up, and the engine roars.

The second impacts throws them around like pebbles in a tin.

Parrish tries to push his door open, but it’s stuck fast.

People approach the car. They’re silhouettes at first, but then they resolve themselves into people. Stiles sees two men he doesn’t know, both dressed in black combat gear. And he sees Kate Argent.

One of the men wrenches Stiles’s door open and drags him out.

“Kate?” Parrish asks. He sounds dozy. Concussed. “Kate, what’s going on?”

Kate ignores him.

“Hello again, Jamie,” she says. “I’m so happy to see you again.”

Stiles pushes back against the guy holding him, but he’s already cuffed, and the guy is as solid as a brick wall. The guy hauls him over to the truck and shoves him in the back. Then the guy gets into the driver’s seat and backs the truck up. Metal crunches as it disengages from the police cruiser.

Stiles struggles to sit up.

“Kate?” Parrish calls. “Jesus Christ! Kate!”

Stiles slumps against the door of the truck, forcing himself up so he can see out the window.

There’s a sudden flash of light and a rolling wave of heat.

Stiles’s mouth opens on a scream he can’t get out.

Parrish’s cruiser is on fire, and Parrish is still inside. He’s trying to kick the window out. And then… and then Stiles can’t see him anymore.

Kate’s holding a can of gasoline, and she’s watching with no expression as the flames take hold.

Stiles squeezes his eyes shut.

***

Kate smells of gasoline and burned flesh. She sits in the back of the truck with Stiles and keeps one hand on the back of his neck, pressing his face into the seat. Stiles can’t breathe. He doesn’t know if it’s the position he’s in, or his impending panic attack. He whimpers.

“Shhh, sweetie,” Kate croons, rubbing her thumb against the knot at the top of his spine. “Shhh. Be a brave boy for me, hmm?” He can hear the smile in her voice. “There’ll be plenty of time for tears later.”

#fan fic #teen wolf #hunger #sterek #discontentedwinter

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mulder-isms · 7 years

Text

The voices - Thorcid Fanfic

A\N: This is a wrap for the tour series! It’s quite an emotional ride, so prepare yourselves. I wasn’t feeling on my brightest mood to write lately, so I’m not sure if it’s any good, but at least it’s finished. The last months were so full with Thorcid activities I needed to make something special.

As always, any kind of feedback is always welcome, and let’s keep the flame going 🔥 ❤️️

Bob jumped three times on the doorway of his apartment to get rid of the snow on his coat. His bones were still shaking from the chilly weather outside, the lips frost and cracking. His assistant popped out from the elevator with the rest of the suitcases and bags mumbling complaints. Bob was fumbling inside his backpack to find the keys.

He was still jet lagged and it was almost 1 AM. When he found the sneaky keys, he felt the phone vibrating inside his jeans pocket.

“What the…” he started the unfinished sentence.

“You’re not getting any booty call until you help me unpack this shit” the younger man behind him protested.

Bob rolled eyes profusely as he recognized the name on the screen. He accepted the call placing one hand on the waist impatient already.

“What the fuck is going on?” he asked sharply before even the hello.

“I know you’ve just arrived from the trip probably but I really want to see you. Shane is driving me fucking insane, I don’t know what to do, I have nobody else to talk to.”

The familiar deep voice on the phone was a little bit higher and trembling.

“W-w-w wait Betty, where are you? I’ve just got home, bitch. I can’t with this telenovela of you two right now-

Jamin cut him before he could finish the sentence, “I don’t know where he is. Come here…please. I’m at that bar near my place.”

Bob deep sighed closing his tired eyes and checked the late hour again on his watch. His assistant was listening everything very interested but quite impatient for Bob’s decision.

“I’m there in maybe half an hour? Hold your damn horses”

He hung up and turned his back to his assistant with pleading innocent eyes.

“Yeah, girl, I need to go. Ya know.” he tried explaining cheaply while his assistant wasn’t impressed at all, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Bob hugged him anyways and got back into the elevator. He was heavy breathing again, but not from the cold.

“What the fuck did you do, Throgy?” he wondered out loud focusing on the floor numbers slowly descending on the display.

One month ago

Acid was listening to the audience back stage, the muffled sounds behind the black walls of the theater. He was a half way ditsy from the drink he was having. Memories of little Jamin in school plays flooding his mind. How did ever cross his mind being away from performing?

“Aaaaaacid Beeeetty!”

Bob’s voice was calling in the microphone and he walked to join the other girls for the questions and answers, the spotlights making him temporarily blind for few seconds. This trip has been nothing but a dream. He was surrounded by people that he loved and inspired him.

Sitting next to Thorgy turned out to be a constant distraction, he wondered if people could see the obvious behind his make-up, hair and sometimes mask. He was wearing all the disguises and still couldn’t help being drawn to him, with constant side comments as if there was anybody else in the panel.

When his eyes finally stopped scanning the faces in the front row of the theater, he glanced at Thorgy only to notice the outfit he was wearing. Naomi’s merch black t-shirt and some black slick pants with classic Thorgy pumps on.

Thorgy noticed Acid’s eyes resting on his lap and smiled caught up in the mischief.

“Sorry, girl! I decided to try it on and you know me, I ended up pulling off the whole look” he explained approaching Acid’s ear while Kim Chi was answering a question.

“I was going to wear this tomorrow” he replied smoothing Thorgy’s thigh distracted, his mouth dropped open. Thorgy’s eyes widened behind his thick arrow glasses but he didn’t remove Acid’s hand.

“What are you doing?” he asked amused exchanging glances from his thigh to Chi Chi that wasn’t bothered about them at all, refreshing herself with a huge fan.

Acid finally realized that they weren’t alone and he just winked and took a sip on his drink. Thorgy giggled and draw his attention back to Kim Chi.

Acid kept staring at his face, eyes all narrowed with the big smile, all under the big black hat.

Jamin knew the disguises were covering him, and still he felt like the audience could see right through him.

“Okay, bottoms up! So, Naomi, stand up!”

Shane, Jamin and Naomi were at the suspicious karaoke bar turning tequila shots after the show. Naomi almost spit his drink after Shane’s comment. Jamin was passed the point of being buzzed, the fish on his sweater were going to die from alcohol poisoning.

“Have you guys chosen your song?” Naomi asked reading the big book of song options as if he could see anything in the dim lighting of the bar.

“Mine it’s a surprise” Shane answered mysterious raising his brows, one elbow poking Jamin’s rib.

“I’m not singing with you, Shane” he protested again in a serious tone that Shane didn’t care at all, stealing a quick peck on his cheek.

“Awww, it’s so cute when you call Thorgy by Shane” Naomi pointed out tilting his head at them in an adorable way. “I’m sticking with Mariah. Heartbreaker is my jam”

“Ooooh I can be your back vocal for this one!” Thorgy replied excited slapping Naomi’s forearms many times in a row.

“Well, I’m going to refill and smoke outside.” Jamin commented expecting Shane to maybe follow him.

Shane glanced at him standing up, “I’m gonna stick around here. Don’t stay outside too long, I think I saw your David Bowie in the queue” Shane replied pulling lightly the fabric of Jamin’s pants.

Jamin collected Shane’s hand and squeezed, rubbing his thumb on his knuckles.

A group of college girls were singing Spice Girls with all their excitement and poor rhythm skills. Jamin observed them sipping his drink and smiled. He gave up the smoke break because it was too cold outside and he didn’t want to miss his song. His eyes traveled back to the table. Naomi and Kim Chi were talking at the edge of one side while Shane was talking to a man quite close.

He shrugged. It could be just a fan. He continued watching the chubby one going down to floor as she did the Zig-a-zig-ah choreography. He turned his glance back to the table and the guy was whispering in Shane’s ear and he was giggling. They seemed intimate.

“What the…” he whispered feeling the sting of jealousy.

He recollected himself a bit, sure that it was the tequila taking over. He walked back to the table and Shane didn’t even notice he was walking in their direction.

“Hi!” he interrupted them, standing in front of the table, and he wondered if the hi sounded too weird.

Shane finally draw his attention to him, and he was very excited pulling his arm to sit next to the stranger.

“Jamin, come here! This is Ethan, you’re not going to believe this!”

“We’ve shared dorms in university…among other things” the blonde muscular man answered and exchanged a meaningful glance with Shane. He looked like a hockey player.

Shane cleared his throat, because he noticed how Jamin wasn’t amused, he just nodded and draw his attention to his drink. Naomi was at the other side of the table, and she mouthed a curious “What the fuck?” noticing the jock next to Shane.

“We dated for what?” Shane asked him narrowing his eyes trying to remember.

“Almost one year. Until I moved back to Wisconsin”

Jamin noticed Naomi standing up because he was going to sing. He got up quicker than usual to remind Shane they were going to do the number together.

“Thorgy! It’s now!” he reminded him throwing a quick nod to acknowledge Ethan.

Shane hesitated for few seconds, his gaze shifting between Jamin and Ethan, but he stood up to join Naomi. Before leaving the table, he leaned down to say something to Jamin but he wasn’t quite sure what he wanted to say.

“This is weird”, he just blurted out laughing, the palms of his hands on Jamin’s thighs, using as support for his weight.

“He looks like the blonde guy from Karate Kid but on steroids” Jamin replied sharply making Shane cackle. They kept staring at each other, Shane focusing on Jamin’s lower lip.

“You look so damn cute with this stupid sweater” Shane noticed nibbling his bottom lip warily, pointing to one orange fish among the many featured in the blue sweater.

Naomi pulled him before alcohol would have speak louder. Jamin picked up his phone from the table not giving too much attention to Ethan.

“God, Shane still shakes me so hard” he commented looking at him and Naomi at the stage. Jamin widened eyes and looked up at him. “He didn’t have these…” then the blond man tried to make a gesture of dreads on his head, “going on, and didn’t look so sloppy…but damn, I’d still let him fuck me in a minute”

Ethan confessed as if was the most mundane thing, and took a sip on his own drink. Jamin was quite struck.

“Ah, you were in that drag show with him, right? I don’t watch this, I mean, I respect what you guys do. But it’s just not my thing...but hey, it’s TV!” and then he gave Jamin a little pad on the shoulder.

“Ahem, may I ask what is your profession so I can respect too?” Jamin scoffed with a smile. Ethan was such a brick he didn’t even notice the sass on his tone.

“I’m a lawyer.”

“Aaaahh respectful indeed” he replied full of disdain, but Ethan didn’t notice anything and continued throwing lustful eyes to Shane and Naomi on the stage as they were singing. “This friend of yours is quite cute…but damn…do you know if Shane is seeing someone?”

“You know, we are on the road all the time, who knows?” Jamin replied absently almost finishing his drink.

“Shane is still the best top I’ve ever had. When we were young people would see him as this feminine fairy but dude, in the bedroom he was just-“

Jamin was tensing up more and more as he continued listening to the conversation until the point he interrupted him standing up abruptly.

“Eh, I need a refill, do you want anything?” he asked in the speed of light. Ethan seemed a little bit suspicious and it took him few seconds to answer.

“No man, I’m fine” he raised his half full glass.

Jamin rushed to the bar. He closed his eyes, feeling a little bit nauseous. He didn’t know why he was acting up crazy like this. But Ethan’s presence was bugging him immensely. He went to the bathroom to freshen up and get a grip, and when he came back to the table Naomi was talking to Ethan and they seemed to be flirting. He checked his cell phone to read a message from Kim Chi saying he was at the hotel already.

He joined them at the table again, sitting by Naomi’s side and his eyes finally fixed on the stage where Shane was singing Head over feet by Alanis Morissette. Shane’s gaze settled on him. He was sitting on stool and looking at the TV with the lyrics but he kept shifting to Jamin.

He continued singing, almost talking the song, each verse full of meaning.

You’re the best listener that I’ve ever met

You’re my best friend

Best friend with benefits

Then he winked at Jamin that shook his head smiling softly. Jamin’s expression got introspective as Shane continued singing.

What took me so long?

I’ve never felt this healthy before

I’ve never wanted something rational

I am aware now

Shane was singing directly to him and Jamin nodded back.

He was aware too.

“Alanis is such a gemini, I love this bitch. “Bearer of unconditional things”, who the fuck writes a verse like this?” he broke the romantic verse as people from the bar kept clapping.

He got off the stool before the song finished clapping hands too. He met them at the table and Jamin had to slide on the bench so he could sit next to him. Shane drank from his drink and before he noticed Naomi and Ethan were making out by Jamin’s side.

“Can we go to the hotel already?” Shane pleaded laughing at the vision.

“PLEASE” panic on his eyes as the couple was almost towering over him.

Half hour later they were at the hotel lying in bed with a passed-out Naomi in the middle of them, because Kim didn’t open the room for him and Naomi lost his key.

“Tell me again why you need to sleep here” Jamin asked annoyed and Naomi pulled him closer by the waist. He sighed annoyed. Shane was laying behind Naomi.

“I don’t wanna be alone…I’m sick!” he mumbled annoyed. Jamin sighed frustrated.

“I told you you’re light weight, bitch. Why do you think you can keep up with us? Our livers are petrified already” Shane replied in his ear and he just kept mumbling complaints.

“Can I at least change position?” Jamin asked trying to remove his arm as if he was glued to his waist. Naomi’s long arm pulled Shane closer so he could spoon him. Shane hugged him placing his head over Nami’s head and exchanged a small kiss with Jamin when Naomi separated their mouths.

“None of this will happen here, okay…” she mumbled.

Jamin was getting pissed and Shane was super amused about the whole thing.

“By the way, Thorgy… how a jock like that is a bottom…we were making out and then we kinda looked at each other like…really? And now what?” Naomi commented in her usual dragged deep voice and then started giggling.

Shane inspected Jamin’s face for a reaction but he avoid looking at Shane.

“I’m taking a shower”

Jamin escaped from Naomi’s arms before Shane saying anything.

After a longer than usual shower, Jamin got out the smokey bathroom to find Shane sitting on the edge of the bed, legs crossed watching TV in a low volume, a bag of chips in hands.

Jamin was wearing the hotel’s white robe and started looking for his pajamas in silence. All they could hear was Naomi’s snorting and the bag of chips wrap sound moving in Shane’s hands.

When he was finally dressed up he sat next to Shane and grabbed a handful of the chips, watching absently the screen too. They stood there quietly.

“Are you happy with our sex life?”

He asked unabashed and there was no time to even regret. Shane was caught out of guard and he snorted confused.

“What?” he inquired giggling eating more chips.

“I’m serious, Thorg” he continued worried and awkward. Shane looked at Naomi’s corpse behind them.

“Is this because of Ethan? What did he say to you? Oh my god. I’ve never seen you like this. I kinda want to take a picture”

“He said that you were the best top he ever had” he confessed hesitating.

Shane just stood there staring at him, his mouth dropped open confused and amused.

“Look…” Jamin pulled Shane’s sleeve looking down. “I can bottom more often. It’s just that…” he smoothed one of his brows. “Sorry if I didn’t notice how much you’ve missed it, I don’t know, it sorta happened that way and you never looked unsatisfied and-

He looked up finally meeting Shane’s face that had his head tilted as if Jamin was the cutest puppy.

“It’s because I’m satisfied. Believe me, I would have told you if I wasn’t, bitch. And I wouldn’t have changed anything, how the things happened” he reassured him squeezing his thigh and Jamin deep sighed relieved. “But if you want to bottom more…You know, I am the best top in Ethan’s prestigious list…” and then he threw a little shimmy and Jamin laughed.

Jamin leaned to kiss him, his mint breath meeting Shane chips salty tongue until they felt Naomi’s leg separating them. The kiss was pulled apart.

They hopped on the other single bed and kept eating chips and watching TV. Shane was the one to fall sleep first, peaceful using Jamin’s chest as pillow.

Jamin glanced over Naomi sleeping and kissed the top of Shane’s head, still wondering about that younger version of Shane in a dorm room fucking like there’s no tomorrow.

He was getting turned on so he shifted his position to shake off his unholy thoughts.

“Think about awful things…Derrick’s emotional roller-coaster speech...” he whispered to himself laughing,

Magical things were happening in this tour.

And having a dressing room only for themselves was one of them.

When Jamin got the message from Shane, he took a long shower at the hotel and prepared himself for all the possibilities. He didn’t know why Ethan’s encounter lit this fire on him but he still felt like he needed to spice things up with Shane.

Even though magical things were happening, many obstacles kept happening from letting him have any quality time with Shane. Their last private moment, but not so much, was still in the plane…the memories of Shane’s head going up and down, the adrenaline of almost getting caught…

But there was always people that they needed to meet and the fans and the other girls constantly interrupting them.

He got wrapped helping Bob to fix his dress that literally ripped in the zipper of the suitcase. He checked his watch. It was almost time for dressing up.

“You’re set?” Jamin asked Bob again that was twirling looking at the dressing room mirror.

“Yeah, thank you Elizabeth. Girl, your face. You look like a teenager that stopped jerking off because his parents knocked on the door or something” Bob teased his friend with his raspy giggle that was clearly in a hurry. “Go go, Jesus”

Jamin left them to find Shane in the dressing room wearing just a long black tank top and boxers, putting his hair up, rolling the dreads in a sock, ready to put his make up on.

“Hi, I thought you would never come” he replied unaware of his boyfriend urgency.

Jamin just locked the door behind him with the key and reached for him as fast as he could for a desperate kiss. He was in no mood to talk or waste time anymore and stole Shane’s next words with a rough and thorough sweep on his mouth, pressing his lips tightly against his rooting for the closest fit, one hand escaping his tank top to tangle into the back of his dreads.

Shane just followed his act walking back as Jamin pushed him against the make up balcony so he could sit, some of the make up items falling on the floor.

From the other side of the wall the girls heard the thump sound coming from the other room. Naomi and Bob exchanged glances and Kim Chi looked at the ceiling.

“These old buildings are always making noises. Haunted mansion realness”

Bob tried to justify as Naomi laughed. He was worried that whatever was going on the other room they were all going to hear.

Shane wrapped his legs around him as his hands were removing first Jamin’s glasses, and then his own glasses, the t-shirt and opening his fly, the pants dropping on the floor, never breaking the kiss until the inevitable moment. He was an octopus when it comes to his boyfriend’s body. Jamin was naked in a matter of seconds, but Shane still had the tank top on.

“What’s going on…” he managed to murmur into Jamin’s ear as he planted kisses on the hollow of his neck trailing down to Shane’s stomach, pulling the fabric of the shirt up.

Jamin was removing Shane’s boxers slowly, scanning every bit of his long legs, the blue eyes darkened with desire, his lips still glistening. He placed two of the stools of the dressing room, right and left sides and Shane observed intrigued.

Then he grabbed one of Shane’s legs and threw over his shoulder, lowering himself to put Shane in his mouth. Shane was hard and aching for him already, and he arched his back in response letting go a soft moan, bumping his shoulder blaze on the cold mirror. He watched them in the other mirror in front of them, Jamin kneeled and buried between his legs, his head going up down and he fastened the pace, the vision was making him even more turned on.

Jamin shifted his attention to his lower parts, not before licking slowly the tip of Shane’s cock and looking up to check his reaction, but he had his eyes closed in trance.

He pulled Shane by the hips closer so could rim his entrance, digging his tongue inside him, his legs spread open.

“Oh my...Ja…” he tried to say something as Jamin kept fucking him with his tongue. Shane was using one hand carved on the balcony holding his weight and the other was stroking his own cock.

Jamin suddenly stopped, which make Shane wince and protest but he wasn’t going to break the contact for too long, as Jamin pulled him closer again for a kiss, pushing him against the wall one more time, his cock deliciously rubbing inside Shane’s tank top.

“Floor, now” Jamin commanded breathless.

Jamin laid on the floor and watched Shane fetching up a bottle of lube from his bag and placing a good portion on his hands. He also threw Jamin the small cushion he uses in airplanes. Jamin laughed putting it under his neck. He sat next to Jamin on the floor and took Jamin on his mouth gently, he was fully hard, so he didn’t tease that much just lubing him up.

“I hate you…” he begged and Shane laughed mischievously.

Shane straddled him gently enjoying the sensation of Jamin stretching him up as he lowered himself for a kiss, moaning in pleasure as Jamin thrusted his hips in circles very slowly as a response.

“FUCK” Shane muttered collapsing over him and laughing, breathing into his mouth and Jamin seemed a little suffocated with Shane’s weight over him. The floor wasn’t helping at all.

“Sorry!” Shane noticed relieving a bit of the weight removing himself a bit up giggling, cupping Jamin’s face.

“Don’t worry, my fat ass is absorbing the impact” he whispered with the voice coming out a little bit strangled and they both laughed as Shane begin slowly riding him.

Their playful expressions were languidly replaced by pleasure and heat. Shane’s pale skin was completely red and his knees were sore for scratching the floor, Jamin grunting with eyes closed as Shane moaned inside his mouth.

Jamin was really close but he managed to stop Shane’s moves, indicating that he wanted to change position.

“Lay on your back” he asked panting, Shane that was all flustered and heavy breathing took a few seconds to obey him.

Shane removed himself and laid on his back, relaxing his back and muscles, feeling like a puddle. Jamin sat by his side, almost kneeled as if he was going to give him a massage.

He kissed Shane cradling his face, planting small kisses on his cheek and the hollow of his eyes.

“We need to be in one piece for the numbers” Jamin whispered in his mouth as one of his hands reached for Shane’s cock and started rubbing.

Shane reached for Jamin’s putting him in his mouth as Jamin’s hand lowered his hand, one finger slipping inside. He could feel the humming vibration of Shane’s throat as he worked the middle finger deeper on him.

Shane couldn’t even focus anymore and just laid on his back waiting for the orgasm to hit as he stroke his own cock with Jamin fastening the pace, murmuring and nodding for him to not stop. He had his eyes wide shut, the mouth dropped open, the veins on his neck popping out as he ached his back and Jamin intensified his pace.

He emptied himself on his own stomach, one hand holding Jamin’s wrist pushing the finger deeper, still smasping, the legs wide open and knees bent. Then Shane removed removed his finger and closed his legs, Jamin was looking down at him satisfied, and kissed his chest, cleaning Shane with his own tank top. Shane searched for his cock still with eyes closed to finish him off, his legs still week from the orgasm.

Shane was very skillful and he knew exactly what Jamin liked, working on the tip of his sock holding the base with a firm grip. He didn’t last long and Shane won’t let any drop of him goes to waste, as Jamin fingers buried inside his dreads, whispering sweet nothings.

They both collapsed on the floor, completely exhausted. They could hear Bob’s usual Celine Dion playing from the other room.

“Ouch!” Shane protested removing a brush from behind his back and laughing. Jamin was still panting with eyes closed. Shane laid on his chest, kissing his nipple, the hollow of his neck and the inside of his forearm, where the doll- octopus tattoo was resting.

“That was fucking amazing…” he whispered in his ear before standing up, Jamin widely smiled and kissed him back.

Shane was the first one standing up and he checked himself in the mirror, his knees all red and busted. The hair a mess of dreads going wild. His lips swollen and his t-shirt all stained.

“God, I look disgusting. We have 40 minutes to be ready”

“I’m so glad I have that romper” Jamin finally said something standing up.

They wore comfortable clothes for the meet and greet. Bob was outraged talking to them like a worried mother, saying how he had to put Celine Dion in the highest volume since the two whores won’t stop making noises.

One month later

“What’s going on? You fucking scared me on the phone, girl”

Bob met Jamin alone in a booth of the bar, just with three beers as a date. Jamin looked more exhausted than drunk.

“Shane’s missing, he just left and didn’t say anything. I asked Alvy if he knew where was him, and he thinks he’s with his folks I just…”

He rubbed his forehead and shook his head.

“But what the fuck happened?”

“The voices” he answered vaguely. “He spent the whole month talking to these possible investors, to get the Thorchestra some financial support just for starters. And it didn’t work out. And all the paper work with the local musician’s unions of the cities. He had this project off this short tour, involving three cities, and he got overwhelmed it wasn’t working out, I don’t know”

He stared outside through the glass, the fog making the cars looking like hidden monsters.

“So Thorgy being Thorgy”

“He completely shut me off the two last weeks. It’s ridiculous. He didn’t want to do anything. But he doesn’t want any help either. I know he wants to be alone, and I respect that, because I’m a loner too. But I can’t get him out of this state…I swear, ugh, he annoys the fuck out of me”

Bob laughed in sympathy with his friend.

“Jamin, Thorgy is fine. He wouldn’t hurt himself. He just needs to adjust the engines of that crazy head of his”

“I know that. But how can he just leave without saying anything, who does that? It’s been a day and he haven’t even checked his phone. Well, no news here”

He was shaking his head annoyed sipping on his beer.

“What did Raga say?”

“Raga is pissed too, but she shares the same opinion. That I just have to be patient that he will come back” and the finished the whole bottle.

“You know, for some people, it takes a little longer to understand that they are loved. Thorgy still thinks nobody cares for him, that he would lose a Brooklyn white person with dreadlocks challenge…”

Jamin finally smiled, but his heart wasn’t at peace.

“He is fine…” Bob reassured squeezing Jamin’s forearm.

The next day he woke up with his bed still empty. He sat on the bed and observed their two personalized candles that were gifts from a fan on the nightstand. Thorgy’s smiling face mocking him. He put his glasses on that were next to them and checked his phone one more time. Still no sign from him.

He dragged himself to the bathroom to wash his face, his limbs still sleepy.

Then he headed to the kitchen, only to find Shane there sitting at the table all set for a cinematographic breakfast. Jamin stood there, still trying to figure out what emotion he was feeling, trying to find the words he gathered for long and that went missing.

After the longest seconds, the words finally come out, “Did you cook this?” he asked furrowing his brow in disbelief.

Shane was unarmed by his unexpected reaction. There was a jar of juice, donuts and waffles. Fresh made scrambled eggs and a jam pot.

“ I bought everything but the jam”, Shane started shyly rubbing his forehead. “My father made that jam. I told him I have a boyfriend now.”

He stopped to investigate Jamin’s reaction that just nodded.

“Um, he-he was surprised that it was you because he thought we hated each other because of the the show”

Shane laughed exasperated, but Jamin continued not offering any kind o response.

“So, you were at your folks” Jamin assumed closing his arms in front of his chest leaning on the counter.

“I was. Look Jamin, I-I I’m sorry. I just needed to leave the city for a bit. These fucking weeks worn me out and I didn’t want you to see how crazy I can get.”

“Shane, the Thorchestra will happen one day. You will fulfill your dream, and just because it’s not happening now it doesn’t mean you’re a failure. You don’t need to shut down people because you’re feeling sad or anxious. And you don’t answer your fucking phone, I think you deliberately try to make me crazy. To test me”

“I swear I’m not testing you, I just, when I’m on a crisis I can’t even think properly, it’s almost like an outside body experience. And then last night I sorta snapped out of it. And it sucks that it hurts you. I know that I have to understand that you love me, even when I don’t love myself very much. That I can’t just disappear anymore”

“No, you can’t” Jamin just replied in a demanding tone.

Then he approached him slowly and cupped his face for a kiss. He could feel Shane loosening up in his embrace and the tears rolling down his face making their kiss salty. Shane wiped them quickly.

“Sorry...I’m just relieved to fucking breath again” he replied laughing and wiping the other tears that kept bursting up.

Jamin sat to eat and Shane went along grabbing a donut. He was hungry, as he finally could feel the taste of food again.

He didn’t need to face the darkness alone, said one of the many voices inside his head. This voice was a good one. This one could echo forever.

#thorcid #rpdr fanfiction #thorgy thor #acid betty #bob the drag queen #naomi smalls #rupaul's drag race #rpdr season 8 #whorses

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houngba · 7 years

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@ayana-kabila replied to your post

I know i love interacting with you and kouha even if im hella slow

v_v this is quite a rant and I don’t really mean you. yer sweet. it’s more an overall thing and how I perceive things with my messed-up head.

I think loving to interact is something different than what I search tho. like, I miss the old 2013 days when people would look at what I say about my muse, or how he reacts in a certain moment, and then come ooc to me and ask, “hey Maya what’s up with him, that’s so totally not like what he’s usually like?”

but, uh, I guess aside from the different approach for what relationship we got with our muses, it’s also my fault for having such issues to get warm with new people? and having anxiety issues to be in ooc group chats with almost only people that I don’t know yet (but that all know each other very well already), people that chose to rather not talk with me, and then ofc the people that I admire from afar but that forgot me over all the other more outgoing and nice people out there.

that different approach that kinda keeps muses from having actual conversations ... like when I say nobody talks to Kouha I don’t mean that I don’t have anything to reply to. that I don’t get weird anon chain letters without a face and only a shallow meaning? I mean that the conversations in threads are often forced short and cut off. there’s hardly anyone willing to discuss with Kouha. to argue with him. to get to know how he ticks and maybe to influence him.

that and the fact that there’s more than one Kouha ... like, please guys, you keep saying, “oh but you are sooo different!”, but ... on what base? without there being any deeper interaction or bond, one can disappear and the same face will be found on another blog. there’s no loss in the end. Idk how the other Kouhas in the fandom are able to make you guys talk, but I know I can disappear and nobody would really notice. I already do disappear for weeks sometimes bc of work and health issues, and when I come back there’s no, “hey where are you? my muse misses your muse :(” (but, also, u know with that I can see where this comes from? like that it’s not only a chore bc the other knows I freak out else? if that makes sense) the only message I see is some, “I’m sorry I didn’t reply yet.” like yeah that’s better than no message at all, or waiting for replies for months without getting any word, but also kinda? did ya notice I wasn’t around either way and it wouldn’t have made any difference whether I got the reply a week ago or yesterday?

I know I’m pretty much only whining by this point. it’s not the first time I throw this tantrum, either. I could go search for what I want in another fandom. I could try to lower my expectations and look at rp from another angle. because every time I feel like this and try to say it, people come and say they like Kouha and me, and for a short moment I am happy because yay even tho it’s through drama and whining I got something like attention. but then everything goes back again to people and muses only going past and not alongside each other. well that’s just how 99% of the rp community on tumblr are? so, if I accept that’s just how it is, then I should be fine?

but -- that’s not what I want. if I have to choose between shallow rp and people that know I exist only when I comfort them or start to scream, or not rping on tumblr at all ... rn then I’d choose to not be here anymore. I know tho this is like a bad drug to me. I’ll keep on coming back and try to snuggle into somewhere, have too high expectations again and hopes that maybe now they will be met, and people will still remember what shit I pulled off and what I said before I left the last time.

long story and the more I rant and ponder about it ... I think it might be better for everyone involved if I just left (for a while?). it would be better for my head to not malfunction all the time and make myself more paranoid by every passing minute. it would be nice to just have a few days, weeks or months in that I am free of this. Idk tho if I will be able to stop thinking about this here, or come already tomorrow crawling back, “I am better now, I am sorry for everything I said, I didn’t mean it. please love me.” and well, in the end it would be better for you people, too. you can find Kouha on other blogs with muns that are easier to deal with. there’s no one active on here anymore who buit up a bond with Kouha that can’t be replaced, and who still wants to write with me. you can have him without him slapping hands away that try to touch him lol. and you won’t have to deal with me posting once a week about how bad I am doing and crying for attention xD because, let’s be honest. as much as we stress that we are here for each other and that we try to uplift people who’re not doing well, eventually it becomes exhausting and we just start to not look there anymore. I know how exhausting that can be, I know how exhausting I can be, and that’s why I don’t force myself on people anymore.

still, as said, my queue is still full of images. if I am able to stay away and think it’s better for me, then my time on this website with Kouha will slowly fade out till nobody even remembers anymore that this was once a rp blog, and then the queue will stop too and there will be no pain and no sadness.

#ooc #tw; drama

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whole-dip · 4 years

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Haunted Mansion

Okay so let's see if I can pull this off. I wanted to do a big analysis/breakdown of a Disney ride to help people better appreciate the art of themed entertainment, as well as help people see a little bit of what my experience is like as I'm riding. I figured I'd go with a fairly popular one, one that a lot of people have experienced, so I chose The Haunted Mansion. I'm gonna be doing the Orlando version because that's the one I've been on.

Okay so we begin in Liberty Square. You're standing in front of the front gate. You see the mansion up upon the hill, the path towards it winds through the front garden/graveyard to the entrance. The sign, at eye level, ominously tells you what's inside. There's a couple different things going on here. First and foremost, you're seeing a spooky mansion up on a hill. Classic example of forced perspective, building something so that when you look at it the proportions give the illusion of a different size. If you think about it, everything you do on the ride could never fit in the building you see before you, but the forced perspective is enough in your mind for you to accept it. As you walk through the line the perspective will slowly shift to make it all make sense to you. The more important thing here is that the mansion looms over everything in Liberty Square. You can see it from almost every part of the land, and that makes it fearsome. That makes kids say either "That big scary house is staring me down and I don't want to go" or "I'm gonna go in that big scary house and conquer whatever is inside" It's a big centerpiece of which the entire rest of the land is built around, the focal point.

Next, you start walking in the line. You're in the graveyard. Funny tombs surround you, and as of a few years ago there are now interactive graves. This is referred to as Scene One. It puts you in the mood, it starts setting the tone. We see a mix of darkness from the graves, but upon further inspection we see that it's all quite funny. This is the tone the rest of the ride will have, spooky whole, funny close up. There's also interactive elements, a ghostly eulogist, a musical crypt, a moving bookcase. This is part of Disney's more recent initiative of having interactive elements in ride queues. This one is one of the more popular examples of good implementation. All of the interactive elements are fairly minimal, main reason being that you need to be moving, not playing with toys.

Now, the doors are opened by a maid/butler and you're welcomed into the foyer. The portrait of the ghost host slowly turns to a skeleton as the voice welcomes you in. The doors close behind you. This is first and foremost, more scene setting. You're being told where you are, what you're doing, how it's gonna happen, etc. It's giving context. But also, you're being corralled unto a group, being more active, and feeling like you're not in line any more, even though you are. You're then welcomed to the stretching room. In Disneyland this serves an actual purpose as an elevator, here it's just for fun. Again, driving home that theme of spooky but fun.

Finally, you enter the load area where you'll be getting on your doom buggy. The doom buggy is an example of what's called an omnimover. The original idea for the ride was that you'd walk through it but the problem was that no one would want to keep moving. The omnimover was developed to allow guests to slowly move through a ride, be turned 360 degrees, but still be in a vehicle controlled by the attraction so that ride times weren't affected.

You quickly move through a small stairwell and then you're on to the hallway with paintings. Your buggy turns and faces you to the paintings, lightning flashing behind you as you hear thunder and the somewhat ominous paintings flash more viciously for just a moment. This scene really captures what the Haunted Mansion is all about. There's a couple of technical effects that are being used, somewhat sparingly if you think about it, to create the sense of "did those paintings just change, or was it my imagination?" that permeates the ride. Here, it's simple UV light being flashed on an otherwise normal paintings. Note the ghost ship, a reference to the original theme of the ride that would have focused more on a nautical home.

Next, the marble busts in the library. Personally, I've always found this room to be a tad boring. The busts are merely concave carvings that look as though they're following you, a common illusion. What's cool though is that this is the "worst" it gets, which is still pretty cool. The ghost host really lays it on thick with the puns here which normally I'd like but here it gets to be maybe a bit too much.

After that we see a piano, seeming to play itself, but a ghostly shadow below playing it on the floor. I think this is incredible because if you think about it for like, two seconds you know exactly how to do this, but it's just so perfectly done that to me I lose myself. I have to remind myself to look for the technical details when I'm riding because if not I'll forget and just see a ghost playing piano. That mastery over simple and straightforward illusions is one of the things that makes Haunted Mansion so perfect.

The infinite stairwell. This room has been changed a ton of times, and it might change again one day. I like that this room helps add to the impending madness of the ride that the story is supposed to be about. A lot of people forget that the Haunted Mansions is supposed to be the story of you questioning if the ghosts are real or if you're just crazy. I think a lot of the story on this ride isn't perfectly done, but this room filled with impossible architecture really helps sell it.

Now, the endless hallway, with a floating candelabra at the end. This room features a ghostly chill that I don't think really works honestly. I never got the sense of that going on, rather it just felt like a weirdly cold spot. The endless hallway is fantastic though, and a scene I think about often. It's such a sparse room if you think about it, but it works so well. It's one of the show scenes that I actually don't really know how they did it.

The opening coffin is the closest thing we've seen to an audio animatronic (AA) that we've seen thus far, and it's great. The way the green light glows from inside, the roughness of the hatch as it's being pushed open, fantastic. I've always loved it, especially as a smaller scene.

Next, another hallway, this time with less effects. We see the sinister purple and black wallpaper that's classic, such a small detail that's commonly known now, but I wonder what it was like for people to slowly notices the menacing eyes in before the internet. The portraits are fun, but repeat a bit too often for me. We end with a monstrous clock, striking thirteen, and the shadow of a massive hand passing over it. To me, this strikes the perfect balance of silly and spooky. Sure, it may be frankly ridiculous, but it's still completely menacing and out to get you.

Now, an incredible scene. Madame Leota's seance. Everyone's doom buggy slowly turns so that we're always in the a big circle, just like any other seance calling forth ghosts. You can look to the other buggies and see them, but of course Leota steals the show. She's a projection on top of the face inside the ball, giving here a ghoulish look, and if you pay attention, the instruments she calls out are floating around the room. I really love the sound design here, as she calls each instrument there's a pause, then a slow but deliberate response. This scene could've easily been far more over top and loud but there's a restraint here that could only come from the history of imagineering that came before it.

The ballroom. Maybe the most iconic scene, or at least one of them, this room is perhaps the most technically complex on the ride. We see the ghostly forms slowly appear before us, all doing their own thing. It's very much a party with some interacting with each other, some on their own. This is pepper's ghost, an old parlor trick commonly used with live actor but here it's done with AA figures. If you notice, you're at a very particular height, not low to the ground, but not on the roof. That's because you're actually about halfway up the room, with ghost AAs above you and below you. Because o the pepper's ghost effect all the figures you see are also on your side of the room, but cleverly the reflections appear as ghosts before you. Pretty cool, huh?

We move to the attic, the domain of the bride, Constance. We see the wedding portraits as the men slowly lose their heads, each one has Constance gaining another pearl necklace. At the end of the room is Constance herself, hatchet in hand. Theme park rides were pretty much invented by film people so they often are developed using film language. Something that has to be accounted for is getting the audience to look where you want them to. If you think about it, this ride is set up kinda like a tracking shot. Slowly you enter the room, meandering through it and ultimately ending on a focal point, in this case, the bride. Scenes like this, with so much cinematic quality while still not being a movie, this is what got me to fall in love with theme parks.

We now begin our descent into the cemetery outside. While many talk about the lore here, that of Constance allegedly killing you and throwing you out the window, there's a far more practical reason for this. At this point, you're on the second floor but you need to be on the first floor. The only way to do that is to lean you backwards for your descent, otherwise you'd be super uncomfortable. The lore is a really good example of adapting story to the physical necessity of the ride.

We're now full in the swingin' wake at the cemetery. The music is fully playing, the ghosts are all out fully having a party, and we're truly surrounded on all sides by show. Our eyes dart around seeing so much and it's sensory overload in the best way. There isn't much to say here in terms of design principles, it is what it is, an all out party. Something I love is the jumping heads behind some of the tombstones. They almost scold you for trying to look too closely, a fun little jump.

Finally, we see the hitchhiking ghosts as a sort of last gag, the projection of the ghosts in our own buggy as a last Wow! and then Constance once more on a mantle as a last scare. A perfect little bow on each aspect of the ride. We unload and exit through a spooky, but well lit, hallway and back outside. The exit quickly pulls us out of the spooky darkness and back into the level of the theming in Liberty Square we had before we entered the queue.

So there you have it, a full breakdown of Haunted Mansion. While I could go on and on about little secrets and the development history and whatnot, I wanted to just do an analysis of what it's like to ride it. All the trivia comes after that initial ride through that leaves you breathless and full of joy.

#disney #disneyworld #imagineering #rolly crump #goth #spooky #eddie murphy #scary #ghosts

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