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stealingpotatoes · 4 years

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After Hours

AO3 Link

Summary: Emily wakes up from a nightmare on the Dreadful Wale. But she’s not the only person awake.

(NB: If you think about Meagan’s Heart line "Some nights she wakes choking, hearing the screams of a young girl, watching - her mother die", along with the fact Emily has got to have PTSD in some shape or form after DH1 it leads to... stuff. This is stuff, I guess. Perhaps poorly executed stuff, but stuff nonetheless.)

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Emily gasped awake and shot up, panic gripping her entire body.

She looked around her frantically, before her shoulders dropped out of their tense position and her breathing became less ragged. She was on the Dreadful Wale, in her cabin. She was fine. She was safe. It was just a nightmare. It was just a nightmare.

But, of course, it wasn’t really just a nightmare, not really... most of it had actually happened. Not in quite the same way as the dream, but similar. Recognisable.

This wasn’t the first time she’d had a nightmare in the month-and-a-half she’d been on the Dreadful Wale. She didn’t get those kinds of nightmares that often -- not as often as when she was a kid, at least -- but they still happened enough.

In all honesty, Emily was hoping that with all she’d seen since the coup began, she’d have something else to have nightmares about. She’d hoped she wouldn’t have to see those masks when she slept ever again. But instead, all the events had merged into some horrid and warped amalgamation.

Tonight, it felt like she’d seen everything. She hadn’t just seen her mother killed, she’d seen the Golden Cat, the Loyalists’ massacre, her father turned to stone, Alexi stabbed. And all she could do was watch. Stuck still, no matter how hard she willed herself to move, to fight, to do anything. She was helpless. She could only watch, just like when it happened.

And the Whalers… the Whalers were there. They did it. All of it, for some reason, not only assassinating her mother. And Daud was in it. He led the Whalers. Emily couldn’t remember his face, not really. Just the impression of it. It made sense; she’d only seen it briefly, fifteen years ago. Still, she remembered his red jacket, and how big and scary he was. And his blade… his blade ripping through her mother--

Emily inhaled sharply and blinked away her tears. She needed some air.

Emily changed into her trousers and shirt. It probably wasn’t cold enough to merit her wearing her coat. Anyhow, everything felt too hot and stuffy; she could do with a bit of cold. She pulled her boots on, opened the door to her quarters and made her way to the top deck, staying as quiet as she could, careful not to wake Anton or Meagan.

She opened the outer door and was immediately met by the starry sky and a cool night breeze on her skin. Emily shut her eyes for a moment and breathed the sea air in. Exactly what she needed.

She opened her eyes again and quietly closed the door behind her, before walking to the side of the Dreadful Wale’s low-lit deck and leaning over it.

Emily stared out at the dark sea. The waves were calm tonight, as was the wind. The occasional gust rippled along the water (and blew her long, undone hair about her face), but otherwise the waves were low and methodic, gently beating at the Dreadful Wale’s side. They were small enough that they weren’t disrupting the reflections of Karnaca’s lights and the moon and stars all too much. It must’ve been about three hours past midnight, but the city still seemed to be as awake as ever, even from all the way out here.

Emily looked up from the reflection at the city itself. She’d understood why her father had missed it so much from the very second she’d seen it sailing in. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but there was a sort of magic about it. A certain joy or brightness, even now, with all that the city and the Empire was going through. Or maybe it was just because the sky here was actually blue, and not almost always depressingly grey, like Dunwall’s.

Emily laughed to herself a little. She’d also come to understand why her father complained about Dunwall’s weather so much after being here. Karnaca was so much warmer than home. Not oppressively hot -- at least, not most of the time -- but a nice, comforting warmth. She definitely preferred it to Dunwall’s weather too.

“Can’t sleep?”

Emily startled at the sudden noise. She looked over her shoulder towards the source of the voice: Meagan Foster, standing a few paces behind Emily on the deck. Emily chided herself mentally for not hearing Meagan coming before. Meagan was weirdly good at sneaking up on people; she’d made Emily jump a few more times than she was happy to admit, and Anton had made a fair few comments about it.

Emily smiled at Meagan. She couldn’t see her properly in the low light, but she could tell Meagan was fully dressed for the day, in that cream coat she always wore, despite how early it was.

Emily’s eyes lingered on Meagan’s arm for a few moments. She still wasn’t quite used to Meagan having both arms, or both eyes again, but that made sense, really; it had only been a couple days since she’d changed the past back at Stilton’s Manor -- only a couple of days since Meagan had got her arm back. Or only a couple days since Meagan had never lost her arm...? It was all a little confusing and Emily wasn’t even going to try to pretend she understood it completely.

Meagan walked up to Emily and joined her leaning on the ship’s side.

“Yeah- it was just a bad dream. That’s all,” Emily answered dismissively.

“Ah.”

Emily glanced at Meagan. Now she was closer, Emily could see her better. She looked tired, in that sort of way people did after a rude and unexpected awakening. Probably the same way Emily looked right now. Maybe even for the same reasons… Emily remembered something the Heart had said about Meagan once; something about how some nights Meagan woke up choking, hearing the screams of a little girl watching her mother die. Had that happened tonight? And who was that girl? Was it Meagan? The Heart was always so vague and she didn’t usually answer Emily’s questions, or explain much further.

Emily knew so little about Meagan’s past.

All she really knew was from Meagan’s aside comments and that… well, that didn’t add up to much. But Emily had decided Meagan’s past didn’t matter; what mattered was that she was helping Emily now. Emily wasn’t in a position to start being picky about her allies. And if Meagan didn’t want to tell her, Emily wouldn’t ask. She owed Meagan that much. She owed Meagan her life, really.

“I take it you can’t sleep either,” Emily stated, looking at Meagan through the corner of her eye.

Meagan gave a small nod.

“Anything keeping you up?”

Meagan hesitated. “Nothing in particular,” her eyes were still trained on the water.

Emily looked out to the sea too, and they fell into a silence. The peaceful water lapping on itself and the side of the ship took the place of their conversation.

“After we returned to the Tower- after all the shit that happened after my mother was assassinated, I used to get nightmares a lot.” Emily started, breaking the quiet. She was talking more to herself than she was to Meagan, and she knew it, “And I’d always ask my father to stay with me. Because I uh- I insisted I didn’t get nightmares when he was there.” Emily laughed a little, “I still got nightmares, of course, but…” she trailed off.

“But it was nice knowing he was there?” Meagan finished, quietly.

“Mm,” Emily hummed with a smile. She looked down at her hands and sighed, “I know he was busy- he was so busy. He had all the work he had to do as my protector, then as spymaster-- and he was pretty much doing half my paperwork too. But he never said no. Every time I asked, no matter what, he’d stay. He’d sit by my bed for the whole night sometimes, just because I was a little scared of a bad dream.” Emily looked up and stared out at Karnaca across the water, “I miss him.”

Emily glanced at Meagan. Meagan was still staring out at the water and her expression was almost completely unreadable. Emily caught herself. Right… Meagan probably didn’t want to be regaled with stories of Emily’s messed up childhood.

Emily made a dismissive motion with her hand, “Sorry, I- I’m rambling.”

“He sounds like a great father,” Meagan said after a moment, with a reassuring and unusual warmth.

“He is,” Emily smiled. Is . Emily was going to free him from whatever spell Delilah had put on him, and she was going to get him back. He wasn’t gone. She hadn’t lost him.

Meagan and Emily settled into another silence.

“My uh-” Meagan stopped and took a slow, steady breath, “My father wasn’t the sort of father you came to with your bad dreams.” She paused, “But he always knew what to say to us, and when to say it. When one of the t-- when one of my... younger siblings was freaking out about something, he’d say the exact right thing. Every time...” Meagan sighed quietly, almost too quietly for Emily to hear, "I guess I know what you mean."

Oh, this was odd. Meagan was telling Emily about her past. She was actually choosing to tell Emily about her past. Was Meagan just that tired? Had Emily picked up a new Void ability? Or maybe they were just friends now? They had known and lived with each other for over a month now, after all, and… Emily realised she should probably stop analysing the situation and just be thankful Meagan was telling her.

“Are you two close?” Emily asked tentatively.

Meagan let out a sort-of amused huff, “No. Last time I saw him was… it was a while ago. More than a decade.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Emily shifted her position a little. This was definitely going to be crossing a line; “Did something happen between you?”

Meagan’s mouth drew to a thin line, “We had a... disagreement . A big one.” Meagan paused for a moment, sombering, “The kind you don’t come back from...”

There was another silence and Meagan suddenly looked quite uncomfortable and almost confused, as if she’d only just realised what she’d been saying. The silence became more awkward.

“You should get some more rest,” Meagan finally looked at Emily again, pushing herself off the side of the ship, “Aramis will be here this evening to brief you on what he knows about the Duke’s palace.”

“Yes,” Emily stood up straight too. There was a short moment before Emily gave Meagan a small wave and turned towards the doors.

After a few paces Emily stopped and turned on her heel to face Meagan again, “Thank you.”

Emily was pretty sure Meagan gave her a half-smile, but she was a little too far off to see in the dark. Emily smiled back and turned around again, heading off to bed.

#emily kaldwin #billie lurk #meagan foster #dishonored 2 #dishonored #fanfic #potes wrotes #hope everyone's having a wonderful day!!!!

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dateamonster · 4 years

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Are you still taking ficlet requests? Can i have one for a werewolf girl coming home exhausted and hungry to her girlfriend reader who takes care of her?

sorry im so slow filling these. i might be a bit rusty. and a second apology that i wasnt feeling the reader/second person perspective thing. i write in second person from time to time but for the most part i find that overall style just not to my taste. regardless, i wanted to start with this prompt because i feel like my writing flows the best when im just overcome with that good good Loving Women energy.

They met in January, when Meagan was still working at San Marzano’s All Night Pizzeria. Now, like then, the streets were dusted with white like the flour on the wooden countertop. Even those many long shifts sweating out what was probably pure energy drink in front of an open oven hadn’t been enough to put her off the smell of rising dough, the yeast’s slow exhale.

There was a sound at the door then. Scratching. A low, distinctly animal whine.

Meagan wiped her hands on a dish cloth and danced on tip-toe down to the rear entryway where the washer and softly humming dryer and a few yet-unpacked boxes lived. She undid the deadbolt but left the chain in place so that when the click sounded and the door shot open with brutal force it only managed to swing a couple inches inward. Black claws wrenched themselves into the gap and a luminous gray-brown eye stared up at her.

“Little Meg, little Meg, let me in.”

She grinned, heart stuttering in her chest like the very first, but couldn’t keep from noting the weariness that undercut her growling timbre. She undid the chain and Leila spilled into her arms smelling of damp fur and the crisp notes of winter. She tucked her muzzle into the crook of her neck and took a leisurely breath as Meagan shuffled awkwardly around her to nudge the door shut.

“Babe, you’re–“ She squealed as her icy pillbug-black snout touched her skin. “–Stop! I missed you too! You’re dripping all over the floor, though.”

Out of the moonlight, Leila shrunk from her canid form like a girl shrugging off an oversized fur coat. Meagan pulled the spare comforter down off the shelf and wrapped it around her until she was barely more than a crop of messy dark hair and a few glimpses of flushed skin, scratched and scored by the nights’ mischief.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Mm,” the wolf hummed in lazy confirmation. “Jus’ tired.”

She frowned. “Too tired for dinner?”

A rumbling growl that had nothing to do with its owner’s animal nature sounded and Meagan giggled with relief.

“Never! You know the full moon gives me a crazy appetite. I could smell you cooking from a block away.“

It was a handy little homing beacon; put a little pork sausage and garlic butter in a pan, crack open the kitchen window just a sliver, and wait. Worked every time.

“If you can be patient a little longer,“ She was already groaning at the very suggestion. “There’ll be fresh bread to go with it. I was in a baking mood.”

“I can finish up, if you want. It’s late for you.”

“Thought you said you were tired,” she said, but didn’t bother to conceal her own yawn.

“Yeah but I don’t mind. You already did all of the hard work.”

She shook her head. “It’s nothing, just pasta and some thirty minute rolls. I think part of me kinda missed the nocturnal cooking. Everything’s so peaceful at night.”

“Not the word I would use but,” She planted a wet kiss on her cheek. “Okay. I’m gonna take a bath. Just call if you need me.”

When she heard door shut and the water start to run, Meagan tossed the discarded and slightly damp blanket in the laundry basket and fished out some pajamas from the dryer, still warm and smelling faintly of the pine-scented dryer sheets. She left them folded outside the bathroom door. Leila wasn’t the kind to allow herself to be doted on too frequently, but she seemed worn out enough that she wouldn’t begrudge her these little acts of care. She put the dough in the oven and turned down the stove. She closed the window and shuttered the blinds so that the pearlescent moon and softly falling snow were hidden from view.

The water shut off and her fingers flexed in the empty air at her sides. She set a timer and wandered back towards the bathroom door, thinking vaguely of the way something as simple as a little moonlight could make a body swell and rise like dough. Thinking of form and muscle, malleable beneath her baker’s hands.

#Anonymous #ask #cave scrawlings #werewolves

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stayextrafrosty · 5 years

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What About Us?

Request: Patrick walks off stage one night, after acting odd and distant from everyone for a few days and confides in the reader that he wants to start a family. The only problem is he isn't in a relationship with the anyone. The reader, without thinking is like, 'I can help you.' naturally, Patrick is taken aback, but the reader is so far down the rabbit hole at this point she's like, 'sure! Why not? Let's go for it!'

Words:2833

Warning: some sexy stuff but not a full smut

Authors Note: I have no idea what the relationship between Bronx and Meagan is so I just have Pete refer to her by name rather than “mom.”

Read on AO3 // Masterlist

I tossed the ball to Pete’s kid, Bronx and tried not to laugh at his awful attempt at catching it. I cheered him on as he made a pitiful attempt to throw it back to me. He really was one of the cutest. I did wonder why Pete brought them along on tours. I’m sure it was rough on them.

“You’re gunna tire me out kid,” I teased him. He let out this giddy laugh and ran after the ball I had tossed back to him.

I never gave a lot of thought to having kids. I suppose I did want them some day but I hadn’t found the right person. My parents were of course pressuring me to figure it out because I was going to ‘run out of time.’

I dared to look away from Bronx and check the time on my phone. Almost six. Pete or Meagan would be coming to get him soon. There was a text from my mom asking how the tour was going. She asked this every few days and it was almost getting annoying. There were the same stories about crazy fans trying to sneak backstage or some sort cool thing a fan gave them at the meet and greet.

I looked up as the door clicked open. Pete and the rest of the guys were laughing about something or other. Patrick brought up the end and he smiled at me as he walked in. I smiled back but had the wind knocked out of me by Bronx jumping into my lap.

“Careful there, kid! Don’t hurt her. You don’t want a new babysitter, do you?” Pete laughed as I glared at him, hugging Bronx.

“That’s all I am? A babysitter? Not like I’ve known you guys for years or anything,” I huffed. They all laughed as Bronx climbed off me. “Be good,” I called to him. He laughed as he ran up and hugged Pete.

“Let’s go little guy. Meagan’s waiting.” Pete held his hand as they walked out together. The other guys tossed themselves on the other couch, chatting away. Something about a new band they were both into. Patrick sat down next to me, taking off his hat and placing it on the table beside him.

“You’re really great with him ya know?” I shrugged and smiled at him.

“Maybe it’s just cause I’ve known him his whole life,” I said, stretching. Patrick chuckled and glanced over to the door. I could never quite pinpoint what he was thinking and figured it’d be rude of me to ask. He looked back to me, a blush dusting his cheeks.

“You don’t have to answer if it’s too personal, but have you ever considered having kids? You seem to be a natural.” I thought. I didn’t mind the personal question but I must have been quiet for too long. Patrick rushed to cover the silence, “never mind, that was rude. I’m sorry. I really should keep those thoughts to myself.” I raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, no. Not at all. Please continue asking me things! I want you guys to know about me. Let me think,” I paused. “I suppose I never bought into the whole ‘maternal instinct’ thing but I do like kids. Maybe that’s why I’m good at it.” I shrugged. “I haven’t given a lot of thought to my own kids but I guess when I find the right person I’ll want them.”

Patrick nodded and fiddled with his fingers. He looked like he wanted to say something but held back. For what reason, I had no idea. Joe and Andy called Patrick’s attention to whatever they were talking about. He looked happy but something wasn’t quite right.

Maybe it was rude to stare but I couldn’t pull my eyes away this time. I was curious about him and he never said a whole lot about his personal life. I think he had a girlfriend at one point but she never came around and then he stopped talking about her all together so I assumed they broke up.

He was cute but I had never thought about him in that sense. Not until today and it was more of a passing thought. I’m sure he could get a girlfriend if he wanted and he certainly had the free pick of girls.

A knock at the door signaled that it was time for them to get ready for the show. Pete stepped in the room.

“Alright, let’s get on it,” he said enthusiastically. The other three agreed and hurried out the door, Patrick taking up the back like usual. He looked back at me and I saluted.

“Kill it,” I said with a smile. He grinned but it seemed half-hearted. It was probably nothing I needed to worry about.

The show went without a hitch and Patrick’s mood seemed to improve drastically. The issue was it never stayed that way. He would get quiet unexpectedly, usually right before a show when Pete was taking Bronx to Meagan.

I tried asking him what was wrong but he would always smile and say, ‘nothing.’ I didn’t want to push him but it was like he was cutting everyone off. Where there some issues within the band I wasn’t aware of? Were they arguing about tracks or the writing process again?

Maybe the guys were due for another break but Patrick was usually very good at working things out within the band. And nothing seemed of with the rest of them. God knows Joe would say if he was pissed or annoyed.

“Dude, I hate to admit it but I have to agree with Y/N. Somethings been up with you,” Joe pointed out after I tried asking again. Guess I wasn’t as quiet as I thought when talking.

“Sorry. Just a bit out of it I suppose.” Patrick was never out of it. At least during shows. But this had been going on for the last few nights. It’s like his energy was sapped.

Yesterday was particularly bad. He doesn’t talk anywhere near as much as Pete but when asked a direct question he was super slow to respond. Joe even stepped in to save the joke. The songs weren’t affected but his general presence onstage was.

“Alright, well at least we have a couple days break. Will that help?” Pete rested a hand on his shoulder. Patrick shrugged and forced a smile.

“Yea. Probably just tired. We are nearing the end of the tour. I’ll be fine after some rest. It won’t effect any more shows.” The guys all nodded and made their way to the backstage area. Patrick didn’t even glance at me as he followed.

This cold shoulder was starting to hurt my feelings. I had to figure out what was wrong. I suppose I couldn’t force him to tell me anything but I thought we had become good friends.

The show went better and Patrick engaged the crowd. I could tell it was forced but hopefully the crowd couldn’t. I scrolled through their social media to see if I could find any mention of the changed attitude. If they did notice, most were telling him to get rest because clearly, he was tired.

I stood just offstage, watching as they laughed and thanked the crowd. Andy tossed his drumsticks from the night into the crowd. I wondered if anyone ever got hurt from those. It’s not like it was a guitar pick. I laughed as Pete was almost pulled into the crowd.

My eyes drifted to Patrick. He was waving but backing off the stage quickly. He gave his guitar to one of the stagehands and rushed out of the stage area. I ran after him, clearly, he was trying to get out and to the hotel before the crowds.

“Trick! Hold on!” He only slowed for a moment to look at who was calling him. But he continued his pace until he made it out the door. This asshole was running from me. What was his problem?

I finally caught up to him as he was getting into the car. I grabbed the door before he was able to close it and climbed in after him. The driver pulled out as soon as I shut it. I could see the look of surprise on Patrick’s face before the shadows took over.

“Y/N what—”

“What’s going on because this isn’t tired behavior. I know you better that you’d like to think, Trick,” I said quietly, crossing my arms. He turned away from me, pressing himself against the door.

“It’s nothing you need to worry about.” I stared at him through the darkness. We would occasionally pass under a streetlight and the shadows would cut over his cheekbones. I thought I saw a wetness in his eyes but couldn’t be sure. Maybe it was just sweat.

I let the rest of the car ride sit in silence. I studied him instead. He removed his hat and ran a hand through his hair. An image of my hand running through it instead passed through my head. Patrick was probably as perfect a guy as I would ever find. Of course, I only realized this in the past few days.

It was a small crush. That’s what I tried to tell myself. I would catch myself thinking about a future with him. I wondered if he would take care of me or let me work like I wanted to. But what if we had kids? Would he stay with me to take care of them?

The car pulled into the back lot of a hotel. He tried to shut me in the car but I was faster. I followed him inside and refuse to even acknowledge the stares we got as I kept pace with him.

“Patrick please,” I begged. “Please talk to me.” He pushed a keycard into the reader and slipped into his room, slamming the door in my face. I stood there in shock. He would never be so rude to anyone.

I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I sighed and stepped away from the door. Clearly, he wanted to be alone. I gave up.

I was surprised when the door creaked open slowly. Patrick’s hair was disheveled and face slightly red. I placed my hand on the door and pushed it open fully. There was no resistance from him.

I stepped into the dark room after him and let the door click shut behind me. He turned on a lamp by the side of the bed. The bed, freshly made, sank under his weight. Patrick dropped his head into his hands.

“Look, I’m sorry I treated you that way. I just,” he trailed off, voice shaking. I took a spot next to him. I wanted to wrap and arm around his shoulders but that might scare him out of talking.

“It’s just me. You can tell me anything and I won’t tell a soul,” I reassured him. “I like to think I’m a good listener. At least that’s what Bronx tells me.” Attempting a joke made him shrink back from me. Crap. He stood and ran a hand through his hair.

“Damnit,” he huffed. I raised an eyebrow. Was there something about Bronx that I didn’t know? Or worse, Pete didn’t know?

“Hey, did Bronx say something? Is he ok?” Patrick glanced at me but looked away quickly. He clenched and unclenched his fists.

“Yea he’s fine.”

“Well when I mentioned him you seemed to get anxious,” I pointed out.

“It has nothing to do with him.”

“Then why did you suddenly—”

“Because I want one ok!” He had never snapped at me before. I blinked in surprise and couldn’t register his words for a moment. I stood slowly, ready to ask what he meant. He took a deep breath and elaborated, “A kid I mean. A family of my own.”

Realization hit me like a car. No wonder he always looked so sad when Pete or Meagan took Bronx away. I didn’t know what to say to him.

“Well,” I started. “What’s stopping you?” He let out a sarcastic laugh.

“No girlfriend. No wife. Need one of those before I can even think about kids.” He sounded spiteful. Maybe he was thinking about his ex? I wanted to comfort him.

“Well that’s an easy fix. I’m right here.” I rushed out the first thing that came to my mind. An awkward silence settled on the room. I could feel the heat rushing to my face.

Patrick was staring at me with disbelief. He didn’t seem repulsed by the idea and a look of genuine consideration passed over his features. I wanted to run out of the room but I was all in. I wanted to try with him.

“You’re not just screwing with me, right?” I was almost insulted by the hesitation in his voice. I straightened my back.

“Never. I’m serious.” His cheeks turned red as he stumbled over his words.

“You mean… you really uh… wanna… with me? I mean… um… a relationship? And all the uh… other stuff?” I nodded and the awkward silence returned.

I bit my lip and stepped toward him. Now or never I suppose.

“Y/N?” I didn’t give him a chance to continue. I pressed my lips against his gently. I was a bit taller than him but it didn’t bother me. I waited for him to push me away but it never came. Instead his hands rested on my hips, and he kissed me back.

I shuddered as he pulled me closer. My hands wandered into his hair and I didn’t care if it was still damp from sweat. It felt nice to be pressed against him. He was warm and soft and I loved the way we fit together.

When we broke apart I took a risk. I pulled him back toward the bed. I wasn’t ready for kids just yet but there was nothing wrong with testing the water. Patrick followed me almost eagerly. His fingers gripped my hips and I pressed my mouth against his again. It didn’t last as long due to me flipping us around.

He sucked in a surprised breath as I pushed him down onto the mattress. He didn’t seem bothered when I straddled his lap and nipped at his bottom lip. I thought I heard him whimper and I grinned.

His hands drifted under my shirt and ran over my skin, making me shiver. I sighed his name and he pulled my hips against his. My excitement got the better of me and I crushed my mouth against his. I could feel him chuckle and respond just as eagerly.

His tongue touched my lips, requesting entrance. I opened up to him slowly but he never rushed me. I ran my hands over his chest and down to the hem of his shirt, lifting slowly. He sat up and we laughed at the clumsy removal of the damned thing.

His skin was warm under my fingers. I caught him grinning like an idiot and kissed both his cheeks. He rolled his eyes at me and I took his hands in mine. I bit my lip as I guided his hands to the hem of my shirt and pushed it up.

Patrick smiled and stopped his hands, placing a quick kiss on my lips. I didn’t have time to respond before he pulled my shirt back down and pulled me into a hug. I was confused. Was this not what he wanted?

“Y/N. As much as I want this, I refuse to rush it. We have all the time in the world. And won’t you at least let me take you on a date first? I want to do this in some sort of right way.” He chucked as he held my face gently.

His smile was so genuine and sweet I could have cried. I smiled and turned away from him in embarrassment.

“I guess I did kind of jump you,” I muttered. He laughed and pressed a gentle kiss to my neck. I shivered as his tongue touched me briefly.

“Only a little. Not that I really mind. Besides, I don’t need one of the guys walking in on us.” I giggled at the thought. Definitely not something I wanted either. I moved off him and he grabbed his shirt, still damp with sweat from the show. Patrick stood and grabbed my hand, goofy grin breaking through no matter how he tried to hide it.

“At least you don’t have to worry about whether I’m good with kids or not,” I joked. He rolled his eyes and laughed.

“I promise you won’t be a glorified babysitter. I’ll be there through the whole thing,” he said. He was already thinking so far ahead. But I couldn’t judge, so was I.

“Just remember you promised,” I said, hugging him.

“This is a partnership, Y/N. It will always be ‘us.’”

#band imagine #patrick stump imagine #patrick stump fanfiction #patrick stump x reader #fall out boy fanfiction #requested #my writing #thought about going into a full smut #but that just didn't make sense to me #so i settled for a make out and patrick being sweet #reader insert #fluffy #short and sweet #fandom #bandom

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bridget-multifandom-writer · 5 years

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❝cabin in the woods❞ serial killer! Cody/Jonathan (1/2)

Title: Cabin In The Woods

Summary: You and six of your other friends go out for a camping trip. When you arrive though, you find out the dark history. In the sixties seven teens were murdered, one decade later seven more died in the exact same spot. Now it’s the eighties. Will the tradition be carried on? And is one of your friends the person behind it?

Pairing: serial killer! Cody/Jonathan x Reader

Warning(s): Smut, Oral (female receiving), Fingering, Handjob, Orgasm (female), Descriptive Details of Murder, Betrayal, and Lying. Typical tropes for slasher movies (dumb cheerleader and jock, the “I’ll be right back” character gets killed right after they say it, a cabin in the woods)

Word Count: 2,263

Parts: 1, 2

Notes: @ccodyfern got me hooked on the idea of Jonathan being a serial killer. I sent in some ask and after planning out about nine of them I decided, fuck it, I’ll just write a story. Also inspired by the 1980s Slasher theme for AHS season nine. Which at first I wasn’t like psyched about but I am now.

When the bell rang out loud Meagan instantly grabbed your hand. Yanking you out of your chair and only giving you a second to grab your bag. You looked at her with wide eyes “Meagan!” you yelled “I almost fell on my ass!” you said. She laughed “But I wanna get out of this school and go camping,” she whined stopping full force at her locker. You brace yourself so you don’t hit her and roll your eyes “You just want to make out with, Zach and Cameron,” you mutter annoyed.

She laughed hearing your bratty behavior. Opening her locker she grabbed the few pictures she left up. Looking over at you she smiled, “I’m sorry, okay?” she asked “I’m just excited. It’s the last day of school and this is the first time we’re doing something in high school,” she explained.

You sigh and nod “Yeah, I know... sorry I got annoyed. Who all is going?” “Uh,” she thinks “Me, you, Cameron, Zach, Sean, Angela, and I think some sophomore named Jonathan or something like that.” “Jonathan?” you ask perking up “He lives next door to me! He super sweet, he’s a little shy though.”

She shrugs “As long as he’s cute, I don’t care!” she says in a sing-songy tone. You laugh and walk beside her hugging your books to your stomach. Meagan hums a song she heard over the intercom as you see Zach and Cameron emerge from the office. Meagan runs over to her and throws her arms around Zach before pressing a kiss on his lips. Cameron looked over with jealousy on his features. Call it sadistic, but, you couldn’t wait for this whole two-boyfriends thing to blow up in her face. You walk over picking up her fallen books and handing them over to Cameron. You look to the right to see Angela walking beside Jonathan as she talks to him about something. Jonathan spots you and gets a bashful smile on his face and your smile back to him. You jump when Cameron slugs his arm around your shoulder “Hey there, Y/N, ready to hear some scary stories by the firelight?” he asks.

Scary stories.... yuck.

Your body unconsciously shivers as the words repeat through your head. Zach chortles loudly “Y/N a scardy-cat... she’ll probably get freaked out enough just by being in the woods.” You roll your eyes in response pushing Cameron arm of your shoulder. You glare at Zack “Screw off, I’m not a scardy-cat.”

Angela and Jonathan finally reach your small group. Angela smiles big “Hey! Everyone ready to go camping?” she asks messing with her dark locks. Everyone gives a yes in response, Jonathan mumbling as he shies away glancing at you. You reach out and grab his hand as the others walk off to Zach's car. You look at him with gleeful eyes “Relax... I know you can get shy in groups. It’ll be alright, they’ll get drunk off their mind by the time we actually make conversation,” you laugh. Jonathan laughs back “I’m just happy your here,” he says.

You bite your lip and pull him along “Come on,” you urge “They’ll without us if we’re late.”

As you sit in the car, pushed inbetween Angela and Jonathan you couldn’t help but notice how isolated the woods were. You were at least fifteen miles away from anybody. As you thought about the more your mind drifted off to dark places.

The idea of someone watching you, stalking, just waiting for the right moment to get you and do whatever they want. Your breathing sped up as you built up more and more anxiety until the car came to a forceful stop and you were almost launched out of your seat. Jonathan threw his arm in front of you making almost a seatbelt and stopping you from getting thrown out of your seat. You breathed heavily looking over at Jonathan before swallowing the lump in your front “Thanks,” you breathe out. Meagan looked over at Zach with wide eyes “What the fuck?” she spit out. He looked over at her and shrugged “I thought there was a deer!” he says, “Get off my back.” Cameron stretches his arm behind Meagans’ head and flicks Zach “Maybe you should get glasses, dumbass,” he says.

Zach rolls his eyes and starts driving against. Meagan turns around and looks at your concerned “Are you okay?” she asks gathering her auburn hair into a bun. You nod “Yeah, Jonathan caught me.” She looked over at him and smiles nodding her head in approval before looking at you and winking “Nice choice,” she grins.

Jonathan looks over at you his curly brown hair in his face. He looks confused, you just shrug and turn to face forward making sure to glare at the back of Meagan's head.

Almost thirty minutes later the car stopped at the campsite. A small area that was clear of trees. The tents were already set up (courtesy from Cameron and Zach) and a campfire was built up in the middle of it all. Angela quickly opened the door but slammed it shut, Jonathan scoffed opening his and offering you his hand “Let me help,” he says as you grab it.

You looked up into the sky, the sun was already setting.

“Y/N! Come get your stuff!” Meagan yells loudly catching your attention. You look over your shoulder nodding and heading towards the car. You grabbed your small bag throwing it into one of the empty tents before sitting down. Cameron ran over to your hosting you over his shoulder “We’re all going swimming, and you're going in first!”

You all gathered around the dancing fire as the darkness came over the woods. You hug your knees to your chest for warmth as Meagan grabs yours and hers. She runs back, handing your light blue jacket. Jonathan sits beside you along with Meagan. Zach, Cameron, and Angela sit on the other side of the fire facing you.

The fire lit up everyone's faces in a morbid light. Zach leaned forward making him easier to see "Does anybody know the story about these woods?" he asked his voice low. No one came forward so Zach continued "Two decades ago seven teenagers came out here. They were camping for three days when someone invaded the camp when their parents sent out police. All they found was the gutted bodies of the campers."

Cold air blew hard making the leaves rattled together and the fire stir. You jumped in surprise and clutched your jacket tightly as Zach went on. He pressed his hands together “All the girls were tied up in their underwear and the boys were left in the tents. The police searched for any evidence but all that was left was the victims. They never found whoever did. One decade later, in the seventies, it happened again. Seven campers all dead. Some people think it’s a generation thing, or maybe the same guy, but everyone’s making bets that’ll happen again.“ You suck a breath in (and ignored the sinister smile Zach gave you). You clutch your jacket tighter as Zack let’s out a laugh and pronounces he’s going to bed. Leaving you and your other five friends alone surrounding the campfire. A hand touches yours and you jump, Jonathan gives you a gentle smile “Don’t worry, I’d never let anyone hurt you.”

You smile back at him and blush slightly. Jonathan was always so nice to you “Thanks,” you tell him for the second time this night. He nods his head “Do you wanna go for a walk? Clear your mind a bit?” he asks.

You let out a breathy laugh, God, you were so obvious “Yeah, I’d like that.” He held out his hand after he stood up, your fingers wrapping around his as he drugged you off into the woods.

God, this was like a bad slasher movie flick. Seven dumb kids go into the woods, two sneak off and get killed. You could already see the character cast. Meagan is the dumb, big-breasted cheerleader, her boyfriend Zach is the dumb jock, the dumb jocks best-friend, Cameron, is really a nice guy, Angela is the nerd, and Jonathan is the shy guy (that in most movies ends up being the killer). But what does that make you? The last girl?

You both walked through the woods on the gravel trail until you reached a lake. It had only been five minutes or so and you could still see the slowly dimming campfire light. Jonathan looked over at you “Zach can be a real asshole,” he says. You laugh “Tell me about it,” you pick up a rock and skip it across the lake water “He usually isn’t this bad.” Jonathan shrugs “I don’t really hang out with anyone here except for Angela. I didn’t even want to come, I only came to be around you,” he explains. You can see a slight blush on his cheeks. You smile “They’re not that bad... your probably the best though.”

Jonathan blushes even more than he already was. He turns his head to meet your glance. Slowly he closes the gap in between you two, pressing his dry lips against yours.

You kiss him back putting your hand on his cheek. He moves his hand to your thigh sliding slight closer to you. His tongue slides against your lip, asking permission to go further. You open your mouth shyly and your tongues dance together. He slowly lets his body weight push you down your jacket meeting the cold, slightly damp, grass. Your fingers tangle in his dark curls. He disconnects you lips and nuzzles your neck before kissing it. Sucking on it lightly as you lean your head back to give him more space. He nips at your skin causing you to gasp lightly, you can feel him smile against your skin.

He switches places to the little bit of your exposed chest to suck on. His hand trailing up your white t-shirt and lightly rubbing your covered breast. You moan and pull at his curls causing him to moan slightly against your skin. He stops sucking on your skin to look up at you. His cold blue eyes meet yours “Can I... can I do more?” he asks quietly. You smile and blush but nod for him to continue. He slowly pushes up your t-shirt and jacket exposing the flesh of your stomach to the cold air. He kisses below your breast making his way down while looking up at you. You feel his fingers slide up the back of your thighs before gripping the beginning of your shorts and underwear. He tugs them down sitting up on his knees and throwing them off to the side.

His hands grip your thighs hosting them over his shoulders as he leans down. You can feel him breathing against your warmth. Your breathing becomes heavy as he finally takes his tongue and slowly licks up your slit. Parting your lips until he reaches your clit and wraps his lips around it. He sucks lightly flourishing in the loud breathy moan that comes out of your beautiful mouth.

He unwraps his lips and begins to kitten lick at your heat. Sucking on you a few more times, before giving your heat a soft kiss. You bite your lip “Jonathan... please,” you beg softly. Once again you feel him smile against your skin before he gives one full lick to your core. Finally, he sped up and it was like nothing you had experienced. Sure, you had been with a couple guys before but none them were caring like this. Jonathan didn’t lap at you like a dog in heat. It was like he was gently kissing and watching for your reactions.

You feel his fingers slowly slide up your inner thigh before he pulls his mouth away. You whine at the loss of contact but it turns into a moan when Jonathan pushes his fingers into your wet core. You feel him chuckle lightly before bending his head down again and sucking on your clit. Slowly he pumps his finger in and out of you. Teasing you in the hope you’ll beg for more again. Finally, he digs his finger in knuckle deep bring it out completely to shove it in again. You moan loudly and arch your back in response to him. He disconnected from your clit to look up at you with his cold blue eyes. He slid his finger out of you again and presses another one to your hole and slowly slides them both in. He smiles as he hears you cry out his name. He lets them sit there before making a come-here motion with his finger.

He keeps doing it repeatedly and buries his head in between your thighs and sucks on your clit again. He doesn’t stop until your fingers fall out of his hair to pull at the grass and your body spasms with him between your thighs. “Jonathan!” you cry out loudly. As you come down, he slides his fingers out of your wet core. He moves over to sit beside you and grips your face with his still wet fingers. He leans down brushing his lips against yours “You taste so good,” he murmurs against them “sweet like honey.”

You almost moan as he presses his lips against yours sliding his tongue in. Your taste still lingering on it. He pulls away with a grin and stands up stretching his arms slight “Can you walk?” he jokes. You let out a laugh yourself “Yes... now go get more shorts!” you demand, kicking him slightly.

He grabs them and hands them to you. You notice your white cotton panties peeking out of his pant pocket. You bite back a smile as you see him catch you staring and force them down all the way. The moonlight showing his panicked eyes and red cheeks. You grab your shorts and slide them on before standing up. Grabbing Jonathans’ hand you lead him back to the camp. You look over at him, he’s wearing a goofy smile “What is this? I mean, I don’t usually do this.” Jonathan connects his gaze with yours “Well... I’ve liked you for a while so if you wanted to be my girlfriend?” he asked shyly. You smiled and turned around pressing your lips to his “I’d love that, Jonathan,” you tell him. You wrap your arms around him and he nuzzles your neck in the same sport he left a hickey. “Your mine, now,” he mumbles.

When you arrived back and camp Jonathan excused himself as being ‘tired’. You didn’t mind you were sleepy too. As he went into the tent you sat down on one of the logs near the fire. Thinking about everything that had just happened, you didn’t notice Zach exiting Meagan tent. You heard him let out a laugh and your head jolted to were he was. He looked at you with a smile “Are you still scared from that story?” Your eyes bulged "Wh-What? No!" you exclaimed. He laughed again before placing a hand on your shoulder "You get scared so easily," he taunted "Look, nothing bad is going to happen. You got me and Cameron here and who's going to mess with two huge football players? Just relax and get some sleep, alright?" he told you. You nodded and stood up "I wasn’t scared," you say “Night, Zach.” He smiled "Night, Y/N, I'm gonna go take a whiz. I'll be right back."

Zach walked away not noticing the looming figure that was Jonathan. He watched with rage in his eyes as you smiled at Zach and let him touch you like that. How could you? You were his. He followed Zach as he walked off into the woods and near to the lake. He watched as Zack let his pants fall down not paying attention to his surroundings. Slowly, he came up behind him taking the knife out of his pocket and digging it into his side. Zach let out a loud groan pushing Jonathan away from him. He fell down and looked up at him “What the fuck, bro?” he asks. Jonathan just crouched down pushing the knife into his chest repeatedly. By the time he was done his hands were covered in blood.

“Zach! Where are you?” he heard Meagan yell out. Looking through the trees he caught a glimpse of her. Standing by the fire in nothing but a t-shirt and panties. Jonathan looked away and stood up, washing his hands off in the water. He grabbed his knife and slowly crept back to camp.

It was time for the rest.

Then you’d finally be just his.

Hi! I originally was going to post a “Dating Tate Langdon Would Include” as my first post but I got spurged with inspiration and wrote this long piece in like three hours. I hope you enjoyed! Like I said this was inspired by @ccodyfern getting me hooked on serial killer Cody/Jonathan.

Below are my masterlist and taglist. Taglist request are always open, (one-shot, hcs) request are currently closed, ships are open. I write for multiple fandoms so check that out.

Masterlist

AHS Taglist:

Overall Taglist:

#ccodyfern #username:ccodyfern #cody fern #cody fern character #we named him jonathan #american horror story #american horror story s9 #american horror story season 9 #ahs s9 #ahs season 9 #ahs 1989 #1989 #slasher movies #jonathan imagine #cody/jonathan imagine #ahs cody/jonathan #jonathan wolfe #jonathan wolff

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theunderdogwrites · 4 years

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Shut Up Internet (Part One)

My Grandmother (of Scottish descent) was a bit of a “royal watcher”. I clearly recall her excitement when Prince Charles married Diana Spencer. She even purchased the commemorative plate. And she adored the Queen and all the history attached to that family. I’ve always loved this about her. Knowing she had this interest and it was something that brought her enjoyment adds another level of appreciation for the person who could see right through me and nurtured my sensitive, rambunctious soul.

I wonder, now, what her thoughts would be on recent events surrounding the Royal Family. She always had a compassionate view on life and while I’d like to think I inherited some of that class, I don’t suffer fools very well. I’d love nothing more right now than to sit down with her and a cup a tea and listen to her speak. But that’s not possible, so instead, I’m going to pour a glass of scotch and do what I do well – rip on shitheads.

I Googled myself once. There are A LOT of people with my exact name (including a greatly wanted criminal who messed up airport travel for a while) so it’s easy for me to be on the down-low. And I like it. I’d be a terrible famous person. To have cameras follow me around every time I left my house would be unsettling and expose all my idiocy. I can see the headlines now:

“Julie leaves the gym a hot mess! Does errands! Smells like salty garbage!

Doesn’t seem to care who she offends!”

“Julie screams at other drivers! Like, a lot!”

“Julie trips over an invisible line! Tweaks knee! Cries!”

“Julie punches paparazzo in the face! Kicks another! Threatens to troll a third on Instagram!”

Just take a moment and think about the things you do out of your home on a daily basis and imagine those things being on display for the world, if they care to look. When you go to the grocery store and forget your cloth bag and purchase a plastic one – international incident! Off to the pub two nights in a row for a few pints – crazed alcoholic! Wear yoga pants to the doctor – you’ve given up on life!

Now imagine being a member of the Royal Family.

I believe it is a well-known fact that the media/paparazzi were greatly responsible for the crash that ended the life of Princess Diana. I’m not going to get into the history of that tragedy except to say – the person who learned the most from that was the Queen. After Diana’s death, the Queen failed to properly navigate the tautness between her lack of imagination and her staunch need for tradition when failing to recognize that this death impacted the world and was not just a family matter. And the public let her know they were unhappy. She has since embraced some flexibility and understanding, which she proved in how swiftly she dealt with Prince Harry’s request to step back from royal duties.

Let’s get to the point….

The majority of us are free to live our lives with a minimal amount of scarring scrutiny. My cat, who often sees me foraging through the fridge and eating like a bear from a trash can while standing in the kitchen arguing with myself, isn’t judgemental about all the strange things she witnesses me do. Only when it comes to my unwillingness to keep her dish completely full at all times and sharing my bacon.

We are not followed by cameras. People probably are not publishing stories about us and then providing spaces for total strangers to make callous remarks about our appearance or life decisions. Most of us will never understand venom on that level.

When it came out that Prince Harry and his wife Meagan Markle wanted to leave royal life for a much more peaceful existence together while raising their son, I for one applauded the bravery. Going up against the Queen (your Grandmother) and her deep-rooted love of tradition and facing tremendous backlash from royal-watching zealots could not have been an easy decision to make. But I felt this difficult choice was made not only as a young loving couple but also as adoring parents wanting the best life for their family. So, imagine my absolute repulsion when people, upon hearing the news, pulled out their freshly sharpened talons and started ripping apart Meagan Markle and essentially blaming her for “Yoko-Ono-ing” the royal family.

What the actual fuck is wrong with people? And I don’t ask that as a rhetorical question.

Technology has given all the dimwitted, sad-sack shit stains of the world a global platform in which to exercise their right to be heard. It truly is a shame that an IQ test isn’t required to log onto the internet. But maybe I’m the tool. Totally possible because I fail to understand the desire… the need… the moral audacity of people wanting to take to their keyboards so they can insult, shame and judge those in the public eye. And do not give me the “well they need to get thicker skin if they want to be famous as intense criticism comes with that life” spiel because that is merely defending a bullying culture.

I blame the media A LOT. The calibre of writing and the content of reporting is being sacrificed for sensationalism and “clicks”. Catering to the lowest level of human being doesn’t make you cool and an industry titan. It makes you a scumbag. The “journalism” community should be embarrassed. And those who are not apart of this circus sideshow should be using their talents to expose and dismantle these hacks.

There are many ways to express your possible dislike… or unappreciation of people and their choices. It doesn’t have to be cruel or intended to cause serious emotional harm. Because let’s face it, we are all armed with an OPINION ABOUT EVERYTHING. My favourite is humour because not only does it require intelligence to execute correctly, it also requires intelligence to realize when you’ve been slammed in style. And that is why Mariah Carey never gets my jokes about her.

#prince harry #meagan markle #queen elizabeth ii #royals #mariah carey #youpeople

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razgriz438 · 6 years

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Personal validation in the form of A Long Ass Post ©®™ about Dishonored 2, probably some spoilers in here I dunno but the games like two or three years old so who even tags spoilers for it anymore

I'm playing through Dishonored 2 and I just finished the level "The Good Doctor", and damn if I didn't call that Meagan Foster was Billie Lurk from the Knife of Dunwall DLC for Dishonored 1 from the start of this fucking game!!!! I haven't seen spoilers for this game because I just love Dishonored and suck at keeping up with games when they come out cuz sixty bucks is so much sometimes so I avoid content about it like the plague (haha you're funny shut up) and God damn if I'm not right the writers missed a huge chance here but I've gotta be right so here's my conspiracy theory about why Billie Lurk and Meagan Foster are the same person:

1) Jessamine's Heart of a Living Creature thing tells you Meagan's got a secretive and brutal past. Being (potentially) Daud's second in command of the Whaler Gang, no shit that's an easy thing to say. But naybe she was just a street urchin or something, that's not something to rule out. I mean, she lost an eye and an arm so clearly something brutal happened and since she's still alive, I probably shoulda seen the other guy who came away way worse. TBH tho what character in Dishonored doesn't have a sad brutal background other than like the Boyles? Not downright convincing but definitely suspicious.

2) She has a really similar character model to Billie Lurk except Billy had both her arms and eyes but those are things you can definitely lose doing odd shipworking jobs for the fifteen years between Dishonored 1 and 2. Could potentially be a case of Same Body/Face Syndrome but one of Dishonored's big selling points is it's art style so it'd be odd to reuse a character model like that for an important character and not have them be the same person. Fairly good argument.

3) Meagan Foster's journal on the (second day? Time has no meaning in this game really it might have been just one day or a week who knows) start of the fourth mission to go and visit Kirin Jindosh says something like "maybe Corvo and I could have been super tight Best Buds if I was still lurking on rooftops and in the shadows tracking my enemies" like if that isn't fucking the entire MO of the whaler gang than I don't know what is. Hella convincing that this is Billie Lurk. Also Billie Lurk def had a journal in the DLC (even tho that's like the only way to convey lore in this game) so keeping up a personal habit like journaling makes sense.

4) In the low chaos ending of The Knife of Dunwall (which is the only ending I've completed cuz high chaos playthroughs make me sad because I Am Being Mean And Evil) Billy Lurk gets to live cuz Daud spares her after she betrays him so Billie Lurk is out of Dunwall and doing shit somewhere so why not Karnaca? Theory is still very possible and this supports a lil.

5) When I meet people in the game with names like Kirin Jindosh, Jessamine Kaldwin, Anton Sokolov, Piero Joplin, Morgan and Custis Pendleton, Corvo Attano, Hiram Burrows, and all these other grand ass names, you really expect me to believe that the name Meagan Foster isn't a fake name???? Hella odd to just be like yeah and uh fucking John Smith here is totally very important. Very offsetting so theory is still supported and even more so.

Conclusion: Billie Lurk got a ship cuz she moved the fuck out of Dunwall away from Daud cuz he said he never wanted to see her in Dunwall again and lost an eye and an arm in the past fifteen years and now is gonna be Corvo's captain on the Dreadful Wale until I finish Dishonored 2. I can't wait to do an Emily playthrough and just see what's different and all the different ways to complete objectives (and the first three levels won't take me fifteen hours of adjusting my settings and location exploring cuz I'll know where everything is!)

#personal post #no one cares time literally shut up #dishonored 2 #conspiracy theory #billie lurk #meagan foster #same person #mine #my posts #the knife of dunwall #dishonored 1 #long ass post #sorry yall

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miguels-talons · 5 years

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new buzzfeed unsolved theory: all shaniacs are actually demons like shane himself

#wow i talk #shut up meagan no one cares #bfu #buzzfeed unsolved #shaniacs

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mykittenkenma · 7 years

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When you're just a fucking tool in every relationship you have :)))))))

#lol I'm so miserable #shut up meagan no one cares

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allthefilmsiveseenforfree · 5 years

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The Intruder

Ah, the spring thriller. Not scary enough for Valentine’s Day or Halloween, but probably better than a bargain basement August release. The Intruder treads some pretty familiar territory - Scott (Michael Ealy) and Annie (Meagan Good) are a young urban couple who decide to go the country mouse route and buy a big fancy place out in Northern California wine country. Charlie (Dennis Quaid) is the super creepy owner of the house who is just a wee bit too possessive of his property, even after he sells it. And he sets his sights on Annie as the next piece of property he wants to own. Solid premise, if not all that innovative, right? Well...

Innovative is a big ask. I’d settle for competent, but alas, what we get is uh. Not that.

Some thoughts:

Ah yes, the “here’s a year’s worth of exposition in 2 minutes” scene.

Meagan Good is giving me huge Single White Female vibes with her haircut and clothes all throughout the film. I can’t decide if this is just part of 90s retro making its fashion comeback or if this was a conscious choice by the filmmakers. If I had to guess, I would guess the former.

So Charlie is introduced to us with deer murder, a creepy handshake, and a giggle. And his house is named after poison. I mean, I get that the movie isn’t really trying to play coy about who the villain is here, but doesn’t that just feel a tad on the fucking nose? This is basically the equivalent of meeting Cruella De Vil in real life. HER NAME IS FUCKING CRUEL DEVIL MAYBE DON’T HANG OUT WITH HER.

“I’ll throw in the tapestry” like this is some kind of perk? I don’t want your dusty ass textiles, since when is that part of escrow?

I think this is the only sex scene I’ve ever seen that incorporates overalls. They’re just not a sensual garment.

“Shut your magic lips” - who would EVER SAY THIS?

The music cues are so over-the-top, beat-you-over-the-head insidious that it just slides into comical. You can only hear a piano keysmash so many times wile Dennis Quaid smiles creepily before it loses some punch, you know?

But don’t get me wrong - Dennis Quaid is balls-to-the-wall NUTS in this. Totally bonkers, and totally captivating. You really can’t take your eyes off him, even though he’s chewing scenery like a motherfucking wood chipper. His go-to move is to look like he just smelled something AWFUL, and you know what, it’s surprisingly effective! There’s one scene in which Quaid is alone in his hotel room and just staring at himself in a mirror, shirtless (because why not) that is one of the creepiest, most disturbing sequences I’ve ever seen. Like you have to give him credit for really going for it.

In fact, the performances are hard to find flaw with across the board. I love Michael Ealy’s chill vibe and his sweet, easy rapport with Meagan Good. Their relationship feels lived in, real, and nuanced. They have real couple fights, and they have some baggage from their past that the performances really dig into. I appreciate that they seem to be doing a lot of character heavy lifting even though they have maybe not the best script to work with.

Side note - Michael Ealy in those grey sweatpants is just. Damn. I needed a minute.

Ok this script gets more and more awful by the minute. “No one ever tells you how hard it is to raise children.” Um, Charlie? That is literally all anyone ever tells you. I’m never having children, for many many reasons, but you know what one of the big ones is? Because everyone has told me that it’s like, really fucking hard.

There are approximately 17 too many dumb jump scares.

These logistic choices from the directors all lead to a sense of carelessness about the film. Like, during the big final showdown, it’s bright day, then dusk, then total night within a span of about 5 minutes. I recognize light is the trickiest element of a film shoot to control but this just feels lazy. And the biggest reveal of the movie centers around a door that is implied to be used dozens of times in secret. It is the SQUEAKIEST DOOR IN THE WORLD. So that implies the villain, who is trying to be as sneaky as possible and is portrayed as next-level anal retentive about the care and upkeep of his precious house, wouldn’t WD-40 that shit?? Lastly, Charlie’s big face-off with Annie and Scott culminates in one last big hit line, one last “fuck you” right? Except the sound mixing makes it impossible to determine what he said. No idea what that big final line was. People in my theater audibly went “Huh?” Unforgivable.

Instead the horror mainly comes from a general vibe of paternalistic old white man creepiness - like there’s a lot of slow motion groaning when Charlie is smelling Annie? And then there’s licking? So much more terrifying than a loud noise and a flash of lightning illuminating Charlie’s face.

Lastly, the ending. Why would Scott be ok with this plan? I understand needs must, but everything his character has told us up til now so adamantly and so fiercely makes this feel unearned and completely out of character. Like, for example, I’m terrified of spiders. Petrified. I would NEVER throw a spider at someone’s face in order to kill them even if it was the only way to do so AND ALSO THERE WERE OTHER WAYS SCOTT. Ugh. Just a lazy shart biscuit of a script.

Did I Cry? Hahahahaha NO.

If you’re desperate and really really love seeing Dennis Quaid go bananas, knock yourself out - you’ll probably enjoy the ride. Otherwise, you can probably skip this one.

If you liked this review, please consider reblogging or subscribing to my Patreon! For as low as $1, you can access bonus content and movie reviews, or even request that I review any movie of your choice.

#119in2019 #the intruder #the intruder review #meagan good #michael ealy #dennis quaid #movie reviews #film reviews

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dreamofawonderfullife · 6 years

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Virtue and Moir's post-Olympic party still going strong

Eight years ago, Tessa Virtue and Scott Moir's first Olympic gold medal was celebrated with a parade through Ilderton.

This time, the ice dance stars are flipping the script.

“It’s our turn to say thank you to everyone,” Virtue said this week from Halifax, where the cross-Canada Stars on Ice tour launches Friday.

The skaters are going to throw a bash for fans. The early target is the August long weekend in Ilderton, by the arena, right near the Moir clan’s backyard.

“Alma and Joe’s house, it’s a pretty good green room for a party,” Scott said, referring to his parents’ place. “I want to get some good people in there, some bands, and we want to give back and raise some money for charity. We’ve been so blessed. The London and Ilderton community has always given us such great support.”

They have been in demand these past two months since their PyeongChang return. Their winning appeal — and the fascination over their relationship status — landed them on Ellen’s talk show, giving the Canadians some well-earned publicity in the massive, yet hard-to-crack, American market.

“It was a lot of fun. There was so much energy, and we can always frame that in the context of what it means to the sport,” the 29-year-old Virtue said. “It’s good for ice dance and figure skating any time we have the chance to broaden that audience. We’re thrilled to do that. By no means was that ever a goal of ours. We just wanted to win the Olympics. The added benefits of whatever happened afterward, that’s just icing on the cake.”

Lately, the questions naturally have turned toward their future. What’s next?

Virtue is becoming a budding businessperson. She is the face of Nivea’s skin care line in Canada and has a keen eye for endorsement opportunities. When she’s not taking over TV networks for a day, she’s on the cover of another magazine.

She works hard to build strong relationships with companies and media partners.

Moir, who comes from a highly-regarded family of figure skating coaches, is helping out at the Ilderton club. It wouldn’t be surprising to see him eventually reach Brian Orser-like status, overseeing some of the best skaters in the world.

“I think the neat thing about our partnership is we’re so connected in what we do and the majority of our career has been intertwined,” Virtue said. “That’s been so incredibly special and we’ve talked at length about what that means to us. We’re also such different people pursuing such different things off the ice and it’s been nice to dive into various business opportunities while watching Scott passionately delve into the sport and setting up a competitive school. I’m so proud of him, much the same way I get support from him.”

“We still have that touchstone together always with skating. That will and always be the No. 1 priority.”

The tour — which arrives in London Sunday, May 6 — is booming. Ticket sale are “pretty insane”, according to Moir, and they’re preparing to perform in front of packed houses.

The skater, who famously skipped mandatory practice for the Olympic closing gala, couldn’t wait to start working on their show programs (which include Michael Jackson’s You Rock My World and, of course, the full four-minute Moulin Rouge free dance that clinched gold in South Korea).

“I was excited to come on tour. I never felt that way my whole career, and I love to skate,” the 30-year-old Moir said. “It usually kicks in a couple of days later, once you get rolling, but something stirred with us. It’s the cast we have here. There’s a great energy, and we’re seeing the impact of what the Canadian team accomplished in February. Back home, the numbers at the club are good. We have six dance teams and I’m proud to say we have eight boys skating at Ilderton.”

“I want to help them. I miss home when I’m gone. I miss being a contributing member of my family. That’s important to me. I do have a ton of projects, but I want to be involved in the lives of my nieces and nephews. I need to get back to that a little bit.”

He plans to visit schools, inspire young people and become a mentor, on and off the ice.

“I’ll focus on that the next couple of years, while I can, before people forget my name,” he said. “We’ve been lucky to be successful and have a bit of a platform. I think it’s my job and our duty to make sure we’re good role models, talk to kids and help them shape their lives through sport and extracurricular activities.”

“To me, that’s what being Canadian is all about.”

It’s not about the Internet meme that followed Moir since Games end of him standing up at the women’s gold medal hockey game, beer in hand and complaining to the referees.

“If there’s one athlete that doesn’t want that viral attention, it’s Scott,” Virtue said with a laugh.

Moir remembered talking to Olympic skeleton champ Jon Montgomery, still famous for chugging from a pitcher of beer on the streets of Whistler after his victory in 2010.

“He couldn’t shake that,” Moir said. “His corporate relationships, they just saw him as a beer-drinking party animal when that’s not really Jon at all. He’s a great athlete and person. I like to have a beer, but I also have to be mindful of what 13-year-olds see when they watch the Olympics. I want them to see sport moments. I try to stay away from that other stuff and I have Molson Canadian sending me fridges.”

“I don’t need to be on TV reacting to every single event. After that game, I did kind of shut it down. At the curling game, I was sitting between my parents being very well-behaved.”

Virtue and Moir were an important part of Canada’s Olympic viewing experience. It felt like they were on TV continuously, from the CBC documentary and commercials they did as lead-in, to carrying the flag at the opening ceremonies, through their performances and right until the end.

“Starting the Games by carrying the flag, that was an Olympic moment by itself right on par with competing,” Virtue said. “And then you go right through to the exhibition gala on the closing day.”

“We got a lot of Olympic time, which is awesome.”

They don’t get enough credit for their leadership in bringing together the Canadian figure skating team to deliver that first team gold — the one that made Patrick Chan an Olympic champ.

“I didn’t necessarily take that lead in Sochi (2014) and I regretted it,” Moir said. “After that Olympics, I talked with Meagan (Duhamel) and Eric (Radford, the pairs skaters who retired from competition Wednesday) and they were in the same boat. We felt we weren’t aggressive enough in our approach to the team event.”

“This time, we were. We talked about it a lot, sent emails. I’m pretty outspoken and maybe the guy branded as the captain because of it, but it was a complete team effort. Meagan drove the gold-or-nothing train. Because of Stars on Ice, we’ve travelled and lived together, grew up together and that was a special team feeling no other country had.”

“We relied on building each other up instead of cutting each other down, and we never let up.”

It turned into an old-fashioned blowout. By the time Virtue and Moir got on the bus to go perform their free dance, they found out the Canadians already had clinched gold.

“That was a different feeling,” Moir said. “Here you are, nervous and getting ready, and you look at your phone and find out you’re Olympic champion.”

But there was still extra motivation.

“For me, with all the Russian doping allegations, I wanted to crush them,” Moir said. “I didn’t want the Russian team to be able to say, ‘Well, oh, one of our pairs teams wasn’t here, so we lost (a nail-biter)’. We wanted to say back to them, ‘Yeah, are they going to skate seven times, because we beat you by eight points.’

“That whole event reminded us of how great Canada is. We do sport for the right reason. That win-at-all-cost mentality really brings us down. It was a tough year for amateur sport that way and we needed that at those Games.”

“I’m very passionate about that because that’s something we have to protect, clean sport.”

When controversy overtakes the Games, it ruins the stories the athletes want to tell. Virtue and Moir were able to make theirs shine through on their biggest stage.

“Tessa was really mindful of that,” Moir said. “She had that vision. It didn’t feel forced. Maybe when you’re younger, you’re playing the Olympian card, trying to prove yourself and it feels like you have four minutes on the ice to prove it.”

“We didn’t feel like we had to do that this time. We just knew that here it is, this is Tessa and Scott, we love what we do, we love each other and it’s a really authentic story.”

“People grabbed onto it and that has been fun for us.”

The partnership — and party planning — rolls on.

RYAN PYETTE

#article #very very very interesting article

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prettytragcdies · 2 years

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Fifty Questions Game;

part i: general information...

1. What’s your name? “My name is Meagan.” 2. Give us your full name. “Meagan Nichole Maynard.” 3. Do you have a nickname? If yes, what is it and how did you come to have it? “A lot of people call me Meg(s). Some people call me MnM, because my initials sound just like the candy. A few people call me MayMay, because of my last name and the way you pronounce my first name, but absolutely no one ever calls me Meggie -- not even my mom. I can't stand it.” 4. What species are you? (Human, werewolf, etc? Or are you an alien?) “I'm a human, raised by humans.” 5. Where were you born? “I was born in Los Angeles, California.” 6. I see. And that would make your age…? “As of right now, I'm currently on the edge of seventeen.” 7. Okay, now…are you a good guy, or a bad guy? “Does good with a few bad tendencies from time to time count?”

part ii: tell us more about yourself…

8. How would you describe your personality? “I'm definitely an extrovert, because I've always had to be up and doing something or entertaining someone ever since I was little. With that being said, I do enjoy curling up with a good book from time to time, though. Anyway, I know I have a bit of a rebellious streak, but that just comes with the territory of being a teenager, right? All in all, I like to think I'm a good person who just causes some trouble every now and then. I don't know. I'm terrible at describing myself for these things.” 9. Would you say you’re someone who can handle pressure? “Yeah, I like to think that I can, as long as it's not constant. I mean, everyone has their breaking point, you know.” 10. Do you like to read? “Mostly fiction, but of course.” 11. Favorite Color? “I mean, certain shades of blue are really pretty. I'm not sure I can settle with just one permanent color, though. It varies.” 12. Do you get along with others? “For the most part, yes. I try to be a team player, as long as everyone else does, too.” 13. Do you have any enemies? “I'm sure I do, but they're probably not going to make themselves known outright.” 14. How about friends? “Of course, us kids of first responders have to stick together. Well, and then I also have others outside of that circle, too.” 15. Are you patient? “Ha, that's a virtue I'm definitely still working on. Or at least so says my mom anyway.”

part iii: hypothetically…

16. Suppose that you could become any creature you know of. What would you pick, and why? “Is this a mandatory thing? I kind of like being a human and would just rather stick with that, honestly.” 17. One of your enemies in question 13 just complimented you. Response? “I'd probably have to question whether or not it was truly genuine, so I'd probably thank them with a bit of hesitation and slight side eye.” 18. One of your friends in Question 14 just insulted you. Response? “They were probably just doing it in a teasing manner, so I'd feign offense, and then we'd eventually just laugh it off and move on.” 19. If you could change anything about yourself… “Sometimes I wish I was taller like my mom, but I'm pretty happy with who I am for the most part, though. Oh, and also her hair. I mean mine is nice, and I can do a lot with it, but she's rarely ever had a bad hair day or style in her entire life.” 20. About your home… “I really like my house. It's the perfect size, and it's definitely my safe space when I'm not feeling the outside world. Yeah, it kind of sucks that we're surrounded by fault lines, bad traffic, and all that negative stuff, but it's just part of choosing to live in California.”

part iv: now we get personal...

21. What’re your parents like? “I never met my biological dad, and I don't think my mom really cares to talk about him, because the one time I tried asking her when I was about twelve, she pretty much shut me down in like five seconds flat. I have no idea who he was or what he was like, but maybe one day. My mom, on the other hand? I know it sounds sappy, but I honestly don't know what I would do without her. I'm really proud of what she does, especially since I'm sure it wasn't always easy working her way through the ranks to become captain. Fortunately she's pretty tough, which you surely have to be as a single mom who's also a first responder, especially when you have a daughter who's not exactly the poster child for innocence.” 22. Do you have any siblings? “As far as I know, I've always been an only child.” 23. What’s your occupation? “I'm a senior in high school and almost a freshman at hopefully UCLA.” 24. I see, that’s a good job to have. Do you like it? “It all depends on the day, honestly. Learning new things can be fun, just as long as it's something that interests you. Otherwise, I kind of can't wait until I get to college so I'll have more freedom and fun.” 25. Are you seeing/dating anyone? “Yeah, I haven't been single for a little while now.” 26. Married/Engaged/Other? “I'm too young to get married anytime soon, but I hope the relationship I'm in right now might last at least into my first year of college anyway. After that, we'll see what happens.” 27. If yes, how did you meet? “Let's just say that we met at school, although not necessarily mine.” 28. Tell us your biggest secret. “If I told you, it wouldn't be a secret anymore. Not only that, but certain people might read this who I really don't want finding out about it anytime soon, so I plead the fifth on this one.” 29. Your worst fear? You don’t have to answer this one if you don’t want to. “Oddly enough, I'd rather answer this one as opposed to the previous one. With that being said, my worst fear is definitely losing my mom. I used to have recurring nightmares about it when I was little, but it's easier to deal with now that I'm older. My mom doesn't have a normal nine to five job like a lot of my friends' moms do. She's a police captain, so there's always a risk -- even more so since she's the boss. I don't know. She's just the only parent I have, and just because I might be going to college soon, it doesn't mean I don't need her anymore.” 30. Favorite food and drink? “My favorite food is my mom's blueberry pancakes. They're the ultimate comfort food, honestly. My favorite drink is strawberry lemonade.” 31. Tell us one thing you’re the most proud of. “I'm actually really proud of how far I've come in therapy. I didn't think I would make it past like the first two sessions, even though I obviously needed it after all of my post tsunami trauma, but it's been incredibly helpful, and I've learned a lot about myself.” 32. Something embarrassing? You don’t have to answer this one, either. “I unfortunately fell victim to a group of fake friends a couple of years ago. They just wanted to use me because of who my mom is, but I couldn't see it at the time, despite what everyone kept trying to tell me. It took them wanting to hide something illegal in my locker so if it was found, I'd get in less trouble because my mom could supposedly so easily get me out of it for me to finally open my eyes.” 33. If you answered Questions 29 and/or 32, tell me why or why not. “I guess I kind of needed to get the first one off my chest somewhere outside of therapy. As for the second one, embarrassing things happen to people all the time. I don't have a problem with admitting to a few of mine. I mean, it's kind of a sad life to live if you can't make fun of yourself every now and then, don't you think?” 34. Is that a good reason? “Of course, or at least I like to think so anyway.”

part v: closing...

35. Are you satisfied with your life? “I'm always going to be looking forward to the future and what might be in store next for me, but if my life kept going the way it is right now forever without anything new happening, I would be happy with that. I could live with it.” 36. Anything you feel like you have to do? It can be something long-term, like a bucket list, or something you need to do right now. “I really need to finish this History paper that's due on Monday and then wrap the final few Christmas presents I have left, but other than that I'm good.” 37. Any hobbies? “I really enjoy hanging out with my friends, whether it be partying, shopping, etc. Cooking is a lot of fun as well, especially when it comes to baking during the holiday season. Oddly enough, I've kind of found a new love for writing after starting therapy a few years back.” 38. Quick, you get one wish! What did you just wish for? It’s alright, you can tell me… “Ha, nice try. If I tell anyone, it won't come true. I kind of really need it to, but I'm pretty sure it's also kind of obvious anyway.” 39. How would you describe that wish? Good? Bad? Selfish? Selfless? Other? “It's not exactly selfless, but it's definitely not outright selfish, either. I'd say it's a good one, because good things will happen to a number of people if it does come to fruition.” 40. Have you been honest with these questions? “I've done my best to be, yeah. What's the point, otherwise?” 41. Your personal quote? “Though she be but little, she is fierce. -- William Shakespeare, or technically Helena in A Midsummer Night's Dream.” 42. Do you like change? “It all depends on the type of change, really. Sometimes I can be adaptable, and sometimes not so much.” 43. What’s your most valued possession? “My mom has this really pretty necklace that she never wears. It's in the shape of a heart that's made out of my birthstone with diamonds around it. I found it in the back of her jewelry box a long time ago, and if I had to guess, I'd say it was the last thing my dad ever gave her and probably the only thing she actually kept from him. Don't quote me on that, but everything other than the timing makes sense. Regardless, I love it and kind of hope it might become mine one day.” 44. Who is the one person in your life you know you can always count on? "I know that my mom will always be there for me no matter what, even when I'm testing her patience by acting like the complete opposite of who she's worked so hard to raise me to be." 45. If you only had twenty-four hours left to live, how would you spend them? "I'd definitely spend my final hours with the people I love the most. I'd want to have one more adventure with them if I was well enough to make it outside. Otherwise, I'd just have them all over to my house to share memories and fun moments one final time." 46. Are you ready for this survey to be over yet? "Part of me is, and the other part of me is actually enjoying it. Well, at least the interesting questions anyway." 47. If you could live anywhere in the world, where would you choose? "I feel like I'm supposed to choose some exoticly romantic city that I've never been to before, but I'm honestly pretty happy living right here in Los Angeles. I might could be persuaded to see what all London has to offer, though." 48. Tell us about your favorite childhood memory. "Hmmm, that's a tough one. If I had to choose, I'd probably have to go with the Christmas when I was like five years old. My mom and I did a bunch of the normal traditions like baking cookies, going to see Santa, and decorating the tree together, but I think everything was extra special because she got the actual day off that year. Like, entirely." 49. Anything else you feel like sharing? “If anyone knows how to go about finding information about a biological parent without the other one finding out, hit me up. I could use the help.” 50. Last question!…yup, that’s it! How do you feel? “I feel like I should go and bake something, because I really don't want to write the rest of this stupid paper. Thanks for the distraction, though. It was kind of fun, and I guess admitting certain things to a complete stranger you'll never hear from again really can help more than I thought.”

#x.| meagan maynard ( main verse )#long post tw #flashing gif tw

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