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elliespeach · 10 months

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tear you apart | ellie williams

˗ˏˋ"if your friends won't watch over you, i will." ´ˎ˗

pairing ellie wiliams x fem reader synopsis ellie owns her own vinyl store and the day you wander in changes both of your lives forever. she quickly becomes infatuated with you, desperate for your love that she believes is meant to be. when things in your life begin to spiral, ellie is there to catch you, but you'd never suspect she was the reason you fell in the first place. heavily heavily based on the book/tv show "you" on netflix wordcount 4k warnings gosh where do i start, stalking both cyber and in person, ellie is obsessive, manipulative, a gaslighter, a pervert lowkey, possessive and easily jealous, she breaks into readers apartment and goes thru your stuff, shes also so delusional like top tier delulu, shes based off joe goldberg so i mean put the pieces together. this is all from her perspective, most if not all of the inner monologue is ellie's thoughts about you, the italics is verbatim what she is thinking in that very moment if that makes sense. like joe, all of her actions are justified in her mind, and she doesn't see anything wrong with them. reader has a dysfunctional family. pls lmk if i am missing something! authors note hi hello hi, i have been so excited to post this!! just wanted to clarify this rn, i am bringing in a LOT of elements from the book and show, especially in this part, if it seems very similar thats why. i don't plan on following the plot line for season one, but i needed a good base to jump off of, dont hate me. n yes, readers best friend is shauna from yellowjackets i couldn't help myself. i needed a girl group, sue me. cat is apart of this girl group, not ellie's ex along w dina, also not ellie's ex in this au lol

fuckin’ trash, ellie thought to herself, looking over the torn up vinyl in her hands. the guy who returned it obviously had no fucking clue how to take care of something. especially something so needing of love. she placed the vinyl down on the counter beside the register before stepping into the back of the store, grabbing her tools of restoration. as she rummaged through a drawer, the familiar bell rang from the front door indicating a new customer, but she ignored it and continued searching for the sandpaper she always left laying around somewhere. the last drawer she opened was the winner, taking her supplies, she emerged from the small room into the front of the store, the beads in the doorway swaying as she walked through them.

thats when her eyes found you, examining the vinyl left on the counter. you hadn’t noticed her yet, too engrossed in the mishandled vinyl. she watched you for a moment as you looked it over, tracing the scratches that lined it. to ellie, you looked to be the definition of a nice girl. sporting a flowy sundress that laid just below your ass. nice girl who likes attention, she thought to herself, looking you up and down from afar.

she played it cool, keeping her eyes on the sandpaper and cloth in her hands as she made her way back to the counter. you finally took notice of her when she stood in front of you. “oh, hi,” you smiled brightly, to which ellie looked up. “whoever handled this vinyl should be in jail.” a sense of humor, ellie smiled at you, letting a breathy laugh fall from her lips. and an appreciation for vinyls, rare.

“a life sentence, for sure.” she spoke, and you laughed. a laugh that was genuine, not forced by politeness.

“can you point me to where i could find a david bowie album, ellie?” you asked sweetly, and she had to remember she wore a name tag. flirting with me and you like david bowie? ellie’s grateful its a tuesday afternoon, the store is dead. giving her more time to talk with you. you, who seemed to never stop smiling at her.

“against the wall,” she pointed. “third box from the left.” she lets you wander over yourself, taking the time to admire the way you carry yourself. you had a pair of red, heart shaped sunglasses resting on your head. ellie could tell you liked to pay attention to details, it was evident in the way you matched your sunglasses to your dress, and she wondered just how many pairs you owned. both short dresses and uniquely designed sunglasses together. her head tilted at the thought, switching her over chewed gum to the other side of her mouth.

you rifled through the box as ellie’s gaze pierced your back, although you were seemingly unaware. david bowie, she thought again. not another stuck up gen z who only listens to who is in the top one hundred, no. no, you were special. ellie put her focus onto the vinyl in front of her, slowly dampening it with the cloth before grinding the sandpaper over the scratches. but she kept you in her peripheral vision and she couldn’t help but notice you were struggling to find a specific one, or at least it looked like it.

“need help?” she asked you, keeping her voice neutral.

your body turned to face her, meeting her eyes and a faux pout on your lips.“i think the only one i want isn’t here, or i’m seriously blind.”

ellie chuckled, coming out from behind the counter, “my money’s on blind, just organized this box a few days ago.”

you huffed lightly, standing to the side while she approached you and the box. “i can’t find the rise and fall of ziggy stardust, it’s one of my favorites.”

of course it is. ellie barely looked in the box before she saw the album, pulling it out and holding it out for you. “i’ll book your eye appointment,” she said with a light grin.

“ugh, my hero,” you gushed, taking the album from her hands gently. i’ll always be your hero, but something tells ellie that you didn’t really need her help to begin with.

“c’mon, i’ll ring you up,” ellie led you back to the register and you placed the vinyl down on the counter lightly.

“promise i won’t do what that guy did,” you joked, reaching into your bag for your wallet.

ellie almost wishes you would. you’d come in a few days later, apologizing for being so clumsy but asking if she could fix it for you. of course, she would say yes. how could she say no to someone like you? “you couldn’t if you tried, pretty sure he did it on purpose.”

“what makes you say that?”

“just a hunch,” ellie shrugs, scanning the barcode on the vinyl.

“maybe his dogs got it, or worse, his kids.” you kept eye contact as you spoke, which shocked ellie. a lot of people would break away, divert conversation, maybe even stay silent all together. but not you.

“if that guy had kids, i’d feel bad for them,” to a lot of people, this comment would rub them the wrong way, and ellie internally cursed herself for saying it. you’re a sweetheart in her eyes, someone who wouldn’t think things like that, but again, you laughed. the transaction was almost over and she was grasping at straws, so she kept going. “guys like him blame everything on everyone else, i wouldn’t be surprised if his kids actually hated him but,”

your head tilted, waiting for more. to ellie, it looked like you were hanging onto every word she said. and she relished in it. “–thats only if someone wanted to have kids with him, which i highly doubt.”

“from what i’m hearing it doesn’t sound like anyone would want to,” you’re trusting my judgment. ellie’s lips curled up with your words, and she bagged the vinyl in a plastic bag. you handed her a credit card, which was decorated with flowers along with your name. and you want me to know your name. you could’ve used cash, the vinyl was less than twenty dollars. but no, ellie knew better and she knew you better. your eyes found the scratched up vinyl yet again, “but you can fix it?”

ellie swiped the card against her own wishes. she’d give you the whole store if you asked with that pretty smile. “it’ll be back in the box within the hour, why? you like pink floyd?”

“yeah, for the most part. i haven’t listened to that album yet,”

“i can put it on hold for you.” ellie rushes out, and she feels like she came on too strong. you could easily listen to it on spotify but she reminds herself that you’re in her store for a reason. you probably own a vinyl player, an older model you got off of facebook marketplace because the newer ones don’t match your personality. maybe a pioneer or a yamaha, and now shes thinking about how you probably dance around your room listening to music. your response breaks her from her imagination.

“that’d be great, thanks ellie,” but she can see it so perfectly in her mind, you’d wear a big t-shirt and a dainty pair of underwear. twirling and spinning about, the t-shirt riding up as you did and as you stood in front of her in that short dress her mind seemed to unravel and she had to clear her throat.

“anytime–” she tacked your name at the end of her words with a smile, handing back your card which you very quickly put in your wallet. her eyes glanced down for a split second, admiring how the dress pushed your tits together before bringing them back up to your face.

“aren’t you going to tell me to have a good day?” you teased much to ellie’s enjoyment, reaching out for the bag she was holding for you.

“have a good day,” your fingers grazed hers, and ellie knew it had to be on purpose. a flirt, and a good one at that.

“you too, ellie. i’ll be back for that album.”

you left the store as quickly as you came, taking your sweet vanilla scent with you. ellie thought about your interaction all day, it consumed her walk home and when she entered her small apartment she fell to her couch and opened her laptop.

plugging your name into any and all social medias was easy, who could forget a name like yours? all your accounts were public, and very quickly ellie could tell just what kind of person you were. the sweet girl who loved vinyls who had an addiction to posting online. your twitter was filled with random, obscure thoughts and always with a hashtag at the end of them. from time to time you’d tweet about where you were, and ellie tsk’d out loud to herself. anyone could find you within seconds, you need to be more careful. you seemed to tweet about everything in your life and ellie refreshed the page, wishing to see a post about the cute girl in the vinyl shop who helped you find your favorite album.

yet, there was nothing. and for a moment it hurt her, but the more she thought about it, it was better you didn’t post about her. that means it was real for you, hope remains.

facebook provided the basics of your family, although the account was inactive. but your parents who divorced a few years back seemed to only post about your younger siblings, leaving her to wonder if they didn’t approve of your lifestyle in the city. she stalked their pages like it was her job and at this point it felt like it was. she discovered that your two younger siblings went off to college out west and your parents even sold their home to be closer to them while still living separate lives. ellie felt pity for you, how could they just leave you behind?

your instagram feed was an aesthetic one, pictures posted solely to appease your followers. a pretty sunset here, a mirror selfie there, a quick post about the food from the restaurant just down the road from ellie’s shop. there were also posts about your own art, colorful and detailed, just like yourself. a painting you did was the last thing you posted, but this one wasn’t like your other ones, it was black and white and had a lonely floating balloon in the center and the borders were lined with overlapping words. ellie could make out only a few of them, ‘melancholy’, ‘nobody’, and ‘distress’.

there were lots of group pictures of you with friends. ellie could see you looked more authentic than them, who all seemed to resemble something out of a factory for young adults. you were a pearl in a sea of clams.

out of curiosity, ellie brought herself to your friend’s pages as well. she needed to see the types of people you spent time with, seeing if they were someone she would approve of for you. one friend made an appearance more than others and she assumed that was your so-called best friend, a spunky city girl named shauna. her own instagram was like an influencer’s guide to posting online, and she seemed like someone ellie would avoid at all costs. shauna’s posts of you always had you in the background, or if you were directly in the frame it was a candid where shauna looked better. she's making herself look better at your own expense, can't you see that?

your other friend’s social media were bland and unhelpful. ellie brought herself back to the task at hand. she typed your name into google and watched the loading screen. your name brought up a string of links all connecting back to your art pieces you’ve submitted to local papers and art galleries. an artist in new york city, aren’t you ambitious. maybe your parents didn’t like the instability of being an artist. but yet, you still pursue your passion. its admirable.

what also popped up was a white pages link, with a few clicks, and a small charge to her credit card she found exactly what she was looking for. there wasn’t much she could do with your phone number, texting you would be creepy. there was no way for her to explain how she got it, so the next best thing was your address. which, lucky for ellie, was only six blocks from her own.

if she could find it this easily, she needed to make sure that no one else did. which is how she found herself standing across the street from your apartment, peering into the windows that had no blinds, no curtains, no protection from the outside world. you were on full display for all of new york. first thing were doing together is buying you blinds. you were lounging around on your coach, scrolling through your phone and periodically shifting in your spot to get more comfortable.

it was dark now, and again, luckily for ellie, someone standing on the sidewalk of new york wasn’t a weird thing to do and no one paid her any mind. for days she would stand in the same spot, studying your movements throughout your apartment. sometimes you would go to bed on the early side, but most nights you were fully awake, sipping something out of a purple mug which she could only assume was coffee, and drawing lines on a canvas.

everytime you would take a break and scroll through your phone, ellie would refresh every social media, waiting for a post. your fingers danced on the keyboard and after a few refreshes on ellie’s end, your twitter had a new post.

@yndoesartstuff: if anyone has tips on how not to procrastinate finishing a wip, please enlighten me

if you just put down your phone, i’m sure you could get it done.

one night she watched as you dipped your wet brush into the purple mug instead of the designated paint water cup. they didn’t even look similar, but ellie laughed to herself while you groaned, tossing your head back before getting up to dump the liquid out of the mug. this would also be the first night ellie gawked at you while your hands dipped below your shorts, she quickly looked around. no one else seemed to notice that you were pleasing yourself with your own gentle hands and her eyes found you again, sprawled out on your couch.

your back arched, obviously hitting your sweet spot and ellie swallowed hard. blinds. were getting you blinds.

some days, ellie was too busy with the store to watch over you and she hated herself for it. too tired to walk the six blocks and instead just looking over your social media again, looking through your friends posts to see if you’ve been up to anything. you had never come back for the album, which ellie had finished nearly two weeks ago now. but tonight, as she locked up the store she knew she was going straight to the sidewalk adjacent from your apartment.

when she arrived at her usual spot she saw you through the windows and you looked too well put together for a night to yourself. you were dolled up and ellie liked to imagine it was for her, you’d leave your apartment and head to the store for the album you said you’d come back for weeks ago. but her hope was squashed when a cab pulled up outside your apartment and a woman who looked way too old started to walk up the steps to the building and entered the main door. ellie had been here enough to know the general look of your building's inhabitants, and this woman wasn’t one of them. maybe someone's mom, maybe she's visiting a friend. she can’t be here for you. no way.

but through the windows, with no blinds, she saw you open your door for this woman and welcome her into your home. your mom. it has to be. ellie’s eyebrows narrowed when you pulled this woman into a hug, then pulled back and let your lips kiss hers. okay, so not your mom. who the fuck is this?

ellie, whose eyes were going from her phone to the big windows of your apartment, began to search through your online presence and found no traces of her. this mysterious woman who, now, you seemed to be having a highschool make out session with on your couch, was all over you, touching you, kissing you, and worst of all, pleasing you. that sweet smile that had previously been for ellie, was now for this woman and it made ellie’s stomach turn. but she didn’t leave, instead watched while the two of you began to peel each other's clothes off.

were getting you blinds and were getting rid of this woman.

the next day while she opened up her store, she couldn’t help but think about you and this woman. she was frustrated, of course. but she couldn’t blame you, obviously this woman was prying on your weaknesses for her own pleasure. taking advantage of you. it sickened her, and she had to know more. she had been through every following list she could think of and still, this woman was a mystery. and as she refreshed your twitter (a new hobby of hers), a new post popped up.

@yndoesartstuff: lunch date with @shaunamavisxx never felt so right – at hoppers tavern

seeing that, ellie locked up shop way too early. it was fairly easy to make her way into your apartment, all she had to do was play the part. “sorry, my girlfriend hasn’t given me a key to this door yet,” she said with a friendly smile to your neighbor, who out of the kindness of his heart let her into the building. she waited until he was in his own apartment before picking your lock.

it smelled like you once she stepped inside, and she let the aroma fill her nose as she walked around. it was messy, canvases piled up everywhere along with dirty paint brushes. clothes lined your floor from the bedroom all the way to the kitchen and she had to force herself not to clean it up for you. she examined your paintings up close, admiring how the strokes on the canvas looked. she noticed you draw a small bird in every corner, the bird is plump, uncolored and holding a small twig. it was your signature, and it matched you so well. but, what she really was after was your laptop, she found it sitting on your unmade bed.

no password? she was shocked, and made a mental note to tell you that you needed to secure your devices. it’s almost as if you wanted her to search through it to get to know you better, and ellie did just that. it was linked to your phone and as she went through your messages they all seemed to be relatively normal. for someone like you, at least.

loads of messages from a group chat labeled city gals, and she knew it wasn’t you who had named it being as you were funnier than that, and less basic. scrolling up, all the conversation in the chat was merely nothing of note, no mention of this woman to your friends which ellie found odd. maybe just a hookup? but even then, wouldn’t you tell your friends?

ellie could gauge your friends' personalities through the texts they would send, shauna was most definitely the unnamed leader of this group, probably also the one who named the chat. her texts were mostly about planning activities, meanwhile the others just tacked on with fake enthusiastic responses. even yourself.

leaving the group chat, she continued to scroll down your messages and found an unsaved phone number which seemed to be the winner. you don’t have her number saved, this is good. a lot of your texts to her went unanswered, left on seen and only responded once you’d ask for her to come over. that usually generated a reply within minutes from this woman, who ellie still didn’t know the name of. it angered her even further, realizing she was just toying you along. only using you for your body when you were so much more than that.

ellie jotted down the unsaved number into her notes app, saving it for later when she could find out just exactly who this woman was. it was clear from the texts that she wanted nothing to do with you, and you still kept texting her like a sad puppy. it was pathetic, really, but ellie didn’t judge. she knew that your attention seeking habits were brought on by your dysfunctional family, she just wished it was her on the receiving end.

she found herself in your emails and saw you had an abundant amount of unread ones. it was a lot of spam and a waste of time, so she moved on. she decided it was best to go into your search history, restaurants, art galleries that allowed online submissions, sometimes even silly questions that ellie would most definitely answer for you if you asked.

“how do magicians do their cutting in half tricks?” you would ask her from the couch while ellie made you both dinner.

she’d call out from the stove, “there’s a fake table, the girl puts her legs through that. the legs you see on the other end are fake, baby.” and you would giggle sweetly as you always did, thanking her for being a know-it-all.

but as she continued to scroll further and further down your search history, she saw that the day you two had met, you googled “vinyl stores near me” and ellie’s was the first to pop up. she thanked every star in the universe for such a coincidence, but the more she thought about it, it couldn’t have been a coincidence because to her, it was always meant to be.

suddenly your laptop dinged and a new message appeared at the top from city gals. it was shauna and she was proposing a night out and it didn’t take long at all for the rest of the chat to respond.

shauna: drinks at our favorite spot tonight?

dina: totally what time

shauna: like 8 ish?

cat: sounds good to me

shauna: im with our heavy drinker, she says yes too!! see u guys then

dina: hangin w out us :( rude

cat: yeah wtf

shauna: oh hush its no biggie, we’ll see you guys tonight

ellie sat back as the texts rolled in, heavy drinker? ellie didn’t like the sound of it, and your friends seemed to think it was funny. bet they don’t even watch over you when you’re plastered, leaving you alone where anyone could hurt you. a few clicks on your instagram and she found a group mirror picture in a dirty bar bathroom, and the location clear as day at the top of the post. she confirmed it with a few other pictures and a deep dive of your twitter. gotta stop putting your location everywhere.

ellie knew your lunch date with shauna would be ending soon and you’d return home to start getting ready for the evening. she shut your laptop down, placing it exactly where it was on the bed before and started towards the door to leave. as she was on her way out, a bright red thong caught her eye. it was so carelessly thrown between the couch and the table next to it and she stuffed them into her pocket before locking the door behind her on the way out. she knew you’d never notice, your apartment already looked like a tornado had been through it seven times over.

she played with the string of fabric in her pocket as she walked down the sidewalk back to her place, contemplating the night to come. if your friends won't watch over you, i will.

read part two here :)

#ellie williams #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams the last of us #ellie williams au #modern!ellie williams #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x reader

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larrylimericks · 1 year

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23Mar23

We’re feeling some internal friction At silver screen Louis’ depiction; All the world is a stage But it’s hard to engage When plot lines combine fact and fiction.

I get really rambly below the fold. Proceed with caution if you’re over the discourse already.

I debated seeing All of Those Voices in theaters. I didn’t see either of Harry’s films in theaters — Harries are too much of a wildcard, and I refused to sit through hours of squeals and gasps and reactions, not to the movie but to “omg! Harry’s going down on someone! omg, Harry’s bum!” So I was already tentative about seeing Louis’ film in a shared space, outside the protective silos of tumblr. But I bought a ticket, because I want to support him and because I was genuinely curious what story would be told. Then we got the trailer and I hesitated again, not wanting to watch a propaganda film. But, I’ve lived through all the other Bullshit moments, so I figured I could live through Bullshit on the big screen.

My theater crowd was great — pretty neutral aside from an amusing row of politely excitable Larries I was in secret solidarity with. And I pretty much loved the film. Well, 92% of it. I look forward to watching it again when it streams. I mean, it was an hour and a half of content featuring this fascinating creature we’re all obsessed with. I didn’t want to blink. I hung on his every word (when I could understand them). How cool to get, essentially, a long-form interview, where he’s not promoting an album and we’re not getting the same sound bytes. Louis is wonderfully open and vulnerable, and the story of his life (heh) is inherently compelling. The cinematography is beautiful. The behind-the-scenes are delightful and delicious. I can’t wait for the AOTV gif sets once we have it in high-def.

But it has some plot holes as wide and deep as the ones in Don’t Worry Darling.

First, there’s the confusing (to the uninformed) absence of a love interest. Louis is asexual, as far as the film goes. There’s not even a ghost of Eleanor, with whom he’s cumulatively spent a decade and who is supposed to have inspired so many great love songs and with whom he is supposed to have survived a pandemic. Props to E for living her best life now: going to see Scream on AOTV opening day, enjoying full custody of the pups, publicly supporting her assumed partner — sorry you got Kiki Layned from the film, but I’m guessing you weren’t even written into the script. (It’s not like the film was conveniently re-edited in the months since their break-up. Her stunt tapering was intentional.)

Then there’s the glaring absence of a baby mama (thank god; that family would have been even more insufferable). We’re cruising along for 45 minutes or so and then, wham, Dad!Louis enters the chat with a fully formed 6-year-old child. The kid just magically appears with no backstory — just like in real life ... twice (the first time with the pregnancy announcement and the second time with the revival of Dad!Louis after several years of dormancy, right in time for documentary filming. Just like Harry stunted with his co-star during filming and production, Louis stunted with his.)

The kid is cute, and faultless in this. The scenes are objectively sweet (as they were designed to be). But Louis, who normally keeps things very close to the vest, is all of a sudden an emotional spigot you can’t turn off when it comes to these scenes. It seems quite out of character. Which brings back to mind that this Louis *is* a character. The Freddie scenes just didn’t seem to have a point in the plot other than: Louis is a dad. And that role isn’t integral to the film’s story.

He’s incredibly emotional with Freddie, but the movie doesn’t tell us why. The storytelling gets lazy here. The lad/dad plot seems wedged in. The movie would be perfectly complete without it. I felt like it could have been integrated a few different ways: Louis experienced tragedy after tragedy after tragedy — loses 1D, loses his mum, loses his sister ... and then impending fatherhood either becomes another trial he must reluctantly face (in the surprise pregnancy narrative) or it helps him navigate the grief of losing his sole parent, his closest confidante. OR, Louis, not wanting to be like the absentee father he had, shows up for his own oopsie baby despite the unexpected circumstances. But there’s no exposition or rising action. No footage or photos from the first few years of the kid’s life that we haven’t already seen. Just an immaculate conception.

I think the most compelling narratives of the film are these:

Louis’ overcoming adversity after adversity after adversity. Holy hell. I lived through 1D ending, through the devastating news about Jay (god, I remember the shock and sadness of that day — it was incomprehensible), through the heartbreaking news about Fizzy, and then when you think Louis is gonna get his moment of victory with his first solo world tour, coronavirus pulls the rug out. (That sequence was well done: where we keep seeing the dates get closer and closer to March 2020, and we all know the villain that’s coming, but it’s still such a blow.) I lived through all that in real time, but seeing it in such a concentrated sequence really highlights the shit he’s been dealt, and hearing him open up about so much of it ... that’s the character development relevant to the film’s denouement. And getting to see Louis get what he deserves, finally, and hearing him acknowledge that he deserves it, was a lovely ending.

Louis’ journey to find his footing and his confidence as a solo artist after unfathomable success as part of a group. But, in a sort of plot twist, he’s not really solo, is he? The film gives a lovely introduction to his band now — and in their own words, reveals that they’re not just a backing band, they’re a *band* band. Louis has let them in. He’s forged a new brotherhood. *That*, for me, was the heartwarming story. I loved those scenes, loved seeing Louis in his element, which is in a collective, where he is both king and jester at the same time. (Or perhaps Oli’s the jester. Thank fuck for him, man. Oli is the standout. The breakthrough performance. The comic relief. I want a spinoff series.) It’s easy to miss 1D and glorify those short years and think nothing will ever top it, but Charlie’s storytelling of the LT Band is remarkable. We’re left looking forward, not back.

I know Louis’ dedication to his fans and his fans’ dedication to him is a huge focus, but I don’t really enjoy watching commentaries on fandoms I’m a part of. I’m living it. I don’t need outsider context. And in a fandom as fractured as Louis’ (and 1D’s) there’s not a universal experience. The film depicts dedication as sleeping on streets for rail, hopping from country to country and draining bank accounts — because that’s the kind of “superfandom” that gets easily turned into a marketable freak show. Show me the documentary on the fans who organize the light projects, who run the fashion accounts, who curate livestream sources on show nights, who have turned giffing into an art and science, who help promote Louis in the absence of a competent marketing team, etc., etc. I also thought the interview with the American(?) girls talking about LATAM shows was shortsighted. And showing the rainbow factions but not addressing them? What a missed opportunity to talk about songs like Only the Brave becoming a queer anthem. Straight artists can have gay fans, you know.

But the film doesn’t make the kid relevant to any of those storylines. He could have been worked into the first, but wasn’t. It was like a standalone narrative, with footage from a narrow set of days. I was at both those L.A. shows. The energy was so different from night 1 to 2. And in retrospect it’s clear Louis was performing the first night so Charlie could get the right shots. More like a choreographed play than a rock concert. It makes sense now why the Clarks weren’t in the VIP box with Freddie — couldn’t have them cluttering the frame or distracting the actors. Just, everything about the Freddie scenes is heavy-handed. Make a sign for your dad! Draw his logo in the sand! Fly a kite at sunset! He’s the spitting image of Louis! (Len does all the heavy lifting.) And all the maneuvering it had to take to get all those shots from the L.A. show?! In the VIP box from behind (and from the front, and when he just happens to be mouthing along to Two Of Us), side stage watching Louis end the show, on-stage watching Louis approach Freddie after the show, on-stage catching the moment Louis gives the lad a shout-out ... Charlie had a shot list. But sure, nothing was set up, it was totally organic.

I’m still unsettled by how heavily Charlie laid it on at the first premiere press conference — *he* was the one to bring up the kid, and was weirdly emphatic that nothing was staged, nothing was forced. It had the same energy of the “It’s. Not. Real” thrown baby doll moment, only it’s Charlie insisting that It. Is. Real. Thou dost protest too much, me thinks.

And of course, the lack of interaction between Louis and Harry remains, as ever, the biggest tell. We get poignant post-1D Nouis and Lilo moments in the film, but no Larry. We’re spoon-fed these Very Emotional Moments between father and son (“love you,” “Darling,” mouth kisses), when the real story, the real emotion, the real connection is in just a few seconds of furtive glances between Harry and Louis in the backstage footage of the last 1D performance. Christ, the way Harry’s eyes bore into Louis — chin tilted down, eyes glancing up from beneath a furrowed brow, lips tight, disguising his attentiveness with a hair flip ... they mastered so many forms of silent communication. The quiet call and response, the depths of love and care and concern and protection contained in micro-expressions. Fuck, give me 90 minutes of that. Just a silent film of Louis and Harry looking at each other.

Anyway. Sorry this sounds so grumpy. I did really love most of the movie. But I haven’t made sense of why this film was made. I don’t know its purpose. Maybe the introspection forced by the pandemic lockdown is to credit for this glut of music docs (“docs”) lately. Maybe nine minutes frees him up for nine more months or nine more years. I dunno. He obviously wanted this story told in this way.

Seeing a movie requires the willing suspension of disbelief. You have to ignore critical thinking in order to enjoy the story you’re being told. You tune out your knowledge that everything is fake for the sake of being entertained. We know that Superman can’t actually fly, but we still buy tickets to the cinema. But, a documentary shouldn’t require us to employ this semi-conscious perceiving mode. Yet here we are. I’m just not sure how much more or how much longer we can suspend our disbelief to enjoy fandom.

#larry #louis #louis tomlinson #all of those voices #aotv #stunts #babygate #bbg #spoilers #aotv spoilers #limerick-lt #march 22 #2023

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rebelliousstories · 27 days

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A Book A Day…

Relationship: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Request: No

Warnings: Fluff

Word Count: 2,302

Main Masterlist: Here

Criminal Minds Masterlist: Here

Summary: Running into colleagues at an unusual function, with an unusual title; just another day in the life of the BAU.

Reading is essential for those who seek to rise above the ordinary. - Jim Robin

“All I am saying is that Allyl Amethysts Cornflower’s sequel was just as good as the first one. I mean, come on. You can’t sit there and tell me that Feather Dust was not as amazing like Star Dust.” Penelope Garcia gushed, standing next to her friends in a line for a book signing.

“I’m hearing you mama, but we can’t forget about A Fallen Angel which was turned into a modern day classic.” Derek countered, waiting with one hand in his jacket pocket, and the other holding Penelope’s book.

“Okay but Song of the Nightingale? That was a classic of her work, and not just cause of how she played off the leading relationship being between two women.” Emily piped in, holding her own annotated copy of said book.

“Personally, I find her entire Thorns of a Rose saga the best. It super compelling and the characters just come off the page.” Spencer added, also holding a stack of books.

“How much longer is it until she’s about to come out here? My shoes are killing me.” Garcia complained, shifting from foot to foot and leaning up on Morgan while fiddling with her shoes. Spencer checked his watch before speaking up once more.

“We still have about ten minutes before she’s suppose to be here. You know, I’m amazed that you haven’t found out her real name yet, with your proclivity to snoop.” Reid added once more. However, the bubbly blonde looked accosted at the young doctor’s words.

“I will have you know that I respect that woman’s privacy. And I have wanted to snoop, but I have never. If she chooses to share that information with the world, she will.” She replied looking dignified. The other people in the line started to gasp and clap. Looking towards the table, the group was excited as they could finally see the author sitting down in her designated spot.

It took a while, but with every step forward, they got more and more excited. Garcia chattered more, and Morgan amused her little ramblings. Prentiss listened as Reid spouted on about the statistics around books and their releases every year. They made their way closer and spoke eagerly about their favorite moments from each book they had read or even seen on the silver screen. Pretty soon, it was their turn.

“Oh my gosh. You are so pretty. I mean, even more gorgeous than the pictures on your website and online. I’m sorry that was weird. I’m making things awkward.” Penelope could not hold back her excited ramble, to which the author just chuckled at. The bubbly woman frantically searched for her friend who held her book and nearly dropped it trying to pass it to the author.

“It’s totally okay. Are you all together?” She asked politely, pointing to the three others who lingered close by.

“Yes,” Garcia perked back up, “yes. We are all in the same group. I’m Penelope Garcia, this is the illustrious Derek Morgan. This beauty in a turtleneck is Emily Prentiss, and the tall dapper one in a suit on his day off is Dr. Spencer Reid.” Allyl took her time to shake each one of their hands, and held a genuine smile on her face.

“It’s wonderful to meet you all. Thank you so much for coming out to this.” She sat back down and took the blonde’s book first.

“Can I just say that the plot twist in Feather Dust… I mean, how do you even come up with that? With her brother and her mother, that was just- such a roller coaster.” Barely able to contain her excitement, Garcia continued to speak as she watched the author sign the inside cover of her copy.

“Honestly, that came from my boyfriend. He works in law enforcement and helped me with that twist.” Cornflowers admitted, as she moved on to the next book she was handed.

“I loved your sapphic take on this. It definitely helped get me through some tough times.” Prentiss confessed as she handed over her copy of Song of the Nightingale.

“Thanks! It was super important that I didn’t fall into any heavy tropes for Nightingale. Again, I consulted with two of my friends who are a couple to get a better grasp on the feelings for the tale.” Once again, she signed the book swiftly, and handed it back to the dark-haired woman. Next, Spencer brought his stack of books to the table.

“I couldn’t pick so I brought them all and hoped I would be able to decide my favorite in the line up. But I still haven’t made a choice. Which one is your favorite? You can just sign that one.” Like Garcia, Reid nervously rambled as he tried to remain coordinated. But, the woman behind the table simply chuckled.

“No, it’s okay, um… this would definitely be the one I love out of the line up most.” From the saga Reid has presented her with, she pulled Petals of Peonies from the stack.

“My boyfriend collaborated with me on this one for the law enforcement aspect. He works for the FBI so when I needed help making the bureaucracy real, he was there to help.” This caught their attention.

“Who is your boyfriend? Cause we also work for the FBI.” Garcia spoke up, looking like she was about to take impeccable notes in order to find this man.

“His name is Aaron. But he doesn’t like to talk about his job around me. He’s one of those that wants to keep home and work separate.” Finishing her signature on the book, Allyl sent it back to the doctor.

“Well, it has been great meeting you. Thank you so much.” Emily cut off the blonde before she could respond. They all shook hands with the woman behind the table and left to the adjoining cafe. Allyl went back to the book signing while the team of profilers ordered themselves a few cups of coffee.

“Is Hotch dating anyone? Do we know?” Prentiss whispered quite loudly. The rest of the team shook their heads as they looked between each other.

“He hasn’t appeared to be dating anyone. No spending extra time on his phone, no earlier nights from the office. There hasn’t been any indication that he’s seeing someone.” Garcia’s hands flailed as she spoke.

“Well, maybe he’s not dating anyone. How many Aaron’s are there that work in the bureau? She could be talking about anyone. Or her boyfriend is just feeding her garbage about being in the FBI. He could not work there at all.” The analysis from Morgan divided the table. Their guts told them to investigate, but they knew it would be in vain.

“What was that pact we all took about inter-team profiling, guys? We’re not supposed to do it.” Reid complained, taking a sip of his sugary coffee to mask his intrigue.

“How about we wait till she’s done with her signing? If she can stick around, maybe we can get more information.” Ever the sneak attack extraordinaire, Prentiss offered a solution to ease everyone’s curiosity.

So they sat. And waited. Watching not so subtly as the line continued to go down, down, down. Until there were only two people left in line. They had seen people have seemingly meaningful discussions with the author, others too overwhelmed with emotions to hold down a conversation. It was such a wide range of people that came to that table, but they had never seen anyone who looked like a significant other the entire time they had been watching.

The longer they watched from afar, the more the entire group felt like they would never be able to find out who the mystery man was. A final signature, and Allyl left swiftly afterwards. It did not appear that she was going to be sticking around. Deflating, they realized their window to find out about the author was gone. She had left the building, presumably. So the team of profilers turned back to their discussion on which of Cornflowers’ books needed to be made into a film next. That is, of course, until they heard two vaguely familiar voices approaching the cafe line.

“I think that went well, but I am dying for some food and coffee. Wanna get some lunch after we get something to hold us over here?” A feminine voice begged; a voice they knew to belong to the author they had just met earlier that day.

“Of course we can. I think we can both stomach a little lunch. Now, which cookie would you like?” With eyes the size of saucers, all the profilers turned towards the people who were at the counter ordering. That was Aaron Hotchner, their unit chief, with Allyl Amethyst Cornflowers, the author they were there to see. Mouths gaped open as Hotch held his son, Jack, up so he could see the cookies that were displayed, ready to entice.

“I want that one daddy!” Jack pointed excitedly to the sugar cookie with frosting and sprinkles. The woman beside him laughed, and ordered more for the group. But the profilers at the table were dumbfounded. Hotch called the author by another name, that sounded like a name but was not used in her pseudonym, and gave her a card before taking Jack over to watch the drinks being made.

“What the- wha? Huh?” Garcia floundered, which drew the attention of the author at the counter to the group at the table.

“Oh, hi. Is something wrong?” She asked, concerned she had done something.

“You’re, is Hotch your-” Penelope never got to finish her sentence as the man and his son made their way over.

“Hey. What are you guys doing here?” Aaron called, setting his down on his own two feet instead of holding him.

“What’re you doing here?” Derek threw back at the man. But the older agent just smiled, and wrapped his arm around his girlfriend’s waist while holding onto his son.

“She had a book signing so we’re here for that. But Jack got to explore the book section and get some new ones for his collection.” He answered, tugging the author closer.

“Wait, ‘Allyl Amethyst Cornflowers’. That’s an anagram for Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley, isn’t it?” Reid suddenly said, startling the rest of his friends at the table as he had an epiphany.

“Yeah, it is,” the author confirmed, “she’s the one that got me into reading as a child. Well, my mother read me her stories until I could read them. But she’s always been my biggest inspiration.” Her tone was now more shy as she explained, retreating into the comforts of her boyfriend’s arms. It was not too much longer that her name was called once again, this time by a barista who held three drinks, and three treats ready for pick up. Untangling herself, she moved away to collect what they had ordered, while Aaron faced the third degree.

“Why did we not know you were dating?”

“How did you manage that?”

“How did you guys even meet?”

“She seems nice.” All the questions kept coming at him, and made the older agent smile at his coworkers.

“Alright, alright. First, we keep it private for obvious reasons. Second, I don’t even know myself. Third, we met at another book signing some time ago. Lastly, yes. She is very nice.” He tried to get through every question before she returned, but he was not so fortunate.

“Just nice? Oh we are going to have some words, Mr. Hotchner.” She teased, handing him his coffee and biscuit. Before she could continue, she was cut off by the sound of five hones going off at the same time. Her lips pursed as she finished her sip of coffee, and gently guided Jack into her arms so Aaron could check his phone. With a reluctant sigh, the agents at the table stood up, and Hotch turned to his girlfriend and son.

“I’m so sorry.” He tried to apologize, but she waved him off.

“It’s fine. You gotta go be a superhero. Jack Jack and I will go get some lunch. I’ve got that other book signing across town anyways.” Rubbing her hand across his back, it made letting her go that much harder for Aaron. He pressed a kiss to his son’s head and gave him a big ole hug, before turning back to his girlfriend. Hotch rested a quick kiss to her lips, and hugged her close as she said something the team could not hear.

“Go be Mr. Big Bad FBI Agent now.” She let go of him, and tugged Jack near the doors where they had parked to finish out their day as a duo, rather than a trio.

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride.” Morgan clapped his boss on the back.

“Yeah, ‘Mr. Big Bad FBI Agent’.” Prentiss teased, walking past the stunned man.

“Do you think she’s be willing to sit down and discuss the fragile hierarchy that she constructs through her books? I’ve always found that fascinating.” Reid piped up, moving towards the door.

“Come on, oh captain, my captain.” Garcia gently guided him out the door where the three agents had gone. Two of them were snickering to themselves, and the other one was Reid. As they piled into the car, everyone stopped for a moment, and turned to Hotch with grins on their faces.

“Not a word to Rossi.” He conceded, and they took off for the office.

Perhaps we did not read so many books, or learn languages so quickly, as those who are disciplined according to the ordinary methods; but what we learned was impressed the more deeply on our memories. - Mary Wollstocecraft Shelley

#rebelliousstories #writing #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #spencer reid #emily prentiss #derek morgan #penelope garcia

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piracytheorist · 6 months

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Episode 28 thoughts!

Did I say I was elated by the political commentary from one (1) line in the previous episode? This one had LOTS and I am so excited to get more into the world building!

Since this episode is mostly focused on Yuri, this post will focus on his part. The other parts are light-hearted and unrelated to the plot of Yuri's part, so I'll make a separate post for them. Maybe.

I admit, though Yuri is nowhere near blorbo territory, I am genuinely intrigued by his character and I can't help kinda investing in how his story will progress.

It's almost scary, how good at his job he is. The SSS have truly hit the jackpot with him, considering how capable he is, how dedicated he is to protect his sister, and how young and easy to manipulate.

Their wanted guy does something completely non-suspicious and tries to run out the window the moment he faces arrest, because that's exactly what an innocent person would do! Anyway, he gets ambushed by Yuri and oh my god.

Yuri please. That's not a normal face to have after throwing someone down - especially someone who actually drew a gun at you? Interestingly enough, the guy didn't draw a gun in the manga.

Then we see about the anti-East stance of Westalis, and... that's a very interesting image there.

"The Devil's Republic" instead of "The People's Republic". "The Age of Confusion" and "The truth as told by photographs". Imagery of mass graves and harsh military law. Also, Cyrillic letters on the journals to the left and right! I wonder if they're actually translatable, but in any case it's interesting that it's the West that uses Cyrillic letters along with Latin ones. I'd have loved to be a Japanese-speaking fly on the wall when they decided on those stylistic choices.

So Perkin already had issues with the law, and was using his journalism skills to rebel against the Ostanian government.

As I said, I absolutely loved that we got some political commentary on this episode, as I've been dying for some signs on how Westalis sees Ostania. And well. It's not good.

Perkin lies and constructs scenarios that fit his "Ostania is a nightmare" narrative, manipulating the audience loud and clear.

Like, look, buddy. I know Ostania sucks. I know surveillance and censorship are the death of freedom, but you don't need to go that far. It's yourself and your work you're sabotaging that way.

And he's not even... like, he then mocks the kid and tells him if he continues to "not share his toys" he will be arrested and killed? Bro, chill.

That's what happens when you join the trenches of a cold war but have no sympathy for your fellow human. Perkin mocked and terrified the boy and then he left laughing. He had no reason to do either of that.

Looks like Perkin's mother died, and her death was caused by their poverty; probably a sickness they couldn't afford proper treatment for. So he's in for it for personal reasons, though again, that doesn't justify being so mean to an innocent kid and manipulating the people of a foreign nation.

Wait, wait. Perkin says something interesting.

According to what he says, people keeping their wealth for themselves and not sharing - aka capitalism - is what the West stands for. But then he's mad at Ostania's government for forcing them to live in poverty and thus causing his mother's untimely death? What's going on, and what is his reason behind making the child fear the West? Because what he says there certainly isn't going to inspire the kid to go against the Ostanian government.

I'm leaning towards him not trusting Westalis either - and is just using them to rile them up to help bring the government down - and/or having a lot of unresolved issues that he's bursting out irrationally on a little kid, because the kid can't defend himself and is an easy target for Perkin's ire.

The fact that Yuri of all people, the personification of no control over one's feelings, got so mad at Perkin for terrifying the kid like that, says a lot.

Yuri made all of those appendices about what clothes Perkin wore and what people rode the underground train with him, so when Yuri mentioned Perkin went to the market, I expected a "See appendices for what he bought there" lmao

Interesting detail that Perkin had a cactus and a succulent, plants famous for needing very little care. The ashtray is also full. Visual commentary!

At least whatever is wrong with him is really really funny. The way his superior has caught onto that though XD

And he's conscious of it lmao

It's a good sign, if you ask me.

Lotsa books and another plant, I can't tell what it is but it's one that seems to require water and sunlight; and it's seated next to their full library!

Meanwhile, Perkin unknowingly, but unsuccessfully, reaches for Yuri's sensitive buttons. Yuri writes his sentence about Perkin probably being motivated by his care for his family... but Perkin is the enemy, you see. Maybe kinda related to what I said in my meta about Yuri's extremism, to him the "other side" are monsters with no empathy who only want to bring chaos. Suddenly he's faced with a man who threatens the safety of the country Yuri's beloved sister lives in, and with illegitimate means to boot, yet his motivation is something Yuri can relate to.

Considering Yuri got so mad at Perkin for scaring the child, I wonder what Yuri's reaction will be when/if he finds out Twilight's core reason to be a spy. That would gut him, I think.

Yuri's original notes on the paper say "Although it is still in the investigative phase, these actions may be caused by his personality and beliefs. Another possibility is hatred of a particular group or individual. However, that seems somewhat insufficient for the motive. Is Perkin [motivated] by concern for his family?"

It's easy to call a man such as Perkin a bigot and use such a narrative to explain his actions, and thus dub him the "enemy" and a "monster", along with anyone who would ever oppose the Ostanian government. So Perkin caring for his family and their future shocks Yuri to the point that he rips the paper off, deleting any signs of sympathetic view towards Perkin.

Perkin waits for his opportunity; after the mail is cleared from "suspicious" letters, he takes over from his coworker so that he can slip his very incriminating - and very misleading - "evidence" in.

Apparently people aren't too suspicious of people offering to help.

Perkin knew what he was doing, though. After his father warned him, he hesitates for a moment before the throws the letter in the cart and seals his fate.

It is pretty terrifying, though. Defamation is no joke but it's one of the things free press has to tolerate, if it wants to be called "free". Legal action can be taken after the press is out, in a public court, and investigate on how much of it is a lie and misinformation aiming at hurting someone or a group of people. Letting prejudiced and brainwashed police officers dictate what should be said and what not is at the height of censorship.

Perkin realizes he's fucked. He's terrified, but he knew what he was getting into - and he has experience with getting in such trouble, after all.

He's not a nice person, but I felt so sad when he said goodbye to his father and just... walked out to accept his fate.

Something interesting regarding the SSS is that they refer to themselves as "kokka hoan-kyoku" (State Security Service) and that's their official name for them, but the people may call them either that or "himitsu keisatsu" (Secret Police). I don't think I've heard anyone but citizens (and WISE agents) use the latter. Like earlier, when Perkin threw the toy gun in the trash, one of the boys used the phrase "himitsu keisatsu". I feel that's interesting because it may show how using the latter may be less... "respectful" for them.

When Perkin is being arrested, for example, he uses "himitsu keisatsu", and then calls Yuri "the government's dog". So that shows how much he respects them, lol.

SOMEONE SLAP HIM ISTG

Heeeey, Yuri... what if post-identity reveal Yor really really fucking loves Twilight and will be devastated if he's hurt? WHAT THEN?

But also hey, the fact that Yuri felt the need to reply to Perkin? It's a sign that this whole case had a much bigger impact on him than he expected. He put Perkin in the mould of "bad person who wants to destroy the country my beloved sister lives in, who makes his family sad" in order to avoid the possibility of relating to him.

He'll get there. He'll get there. It's a good sign he offered to request for financial aid for Perkin's father. Perkin thanking him for that speaks for what truly mattered to him.

I just love how layered everything is. Since the whole story is mainly focusing on Twilight's side, we as the audience are meant to sympathize and want peace to be secured, and for outside forces to help bring down the totalitarian government. But we're not meant to justify Perkin's behaviour, whether that's his fictional narratives or the way he mistreats innocent children, and at the same time we're meant to understand his motives were sympathetic. No-one's perfect, and the road to hell is paved with good intentions. At the same time, we're shown that Yuri, the "enemy" of Twilight's side, also has sympathetic motives and can also show empathy.

I mean, yeah, he swallows it down and replaces it with projection and coldness. But isn't that what Twilight does, too?

God, my heart fucking aches. He's twenty years old. He has his entire life ahead of him and this is where the regime lead him into. It's terrifying, and it's meant to be.

Yuri is so confident he'll catch Twilight and the director is like "Yeah whatever. If that helps motivate you." I see now why he referred to him as a cute puppy in episode 8. Yuri has very little experience and dreams very high but in a way, that keeps him motivated to work his ass off and never doubt what he's being told to do.

... Huh. Another similarity with Twilight? (sans the lack of experience)

Yeah oh my god that's even scarier. The director thinks that catching Twilight is too much for Yuri, but he allows him that "illusion" because it motivates Yuri. Fuck. Disgusting.

You'd think that a household with a spy and an assassin living in it would be using their peephole a little more often. Instead Yor looks surprised to see Yuri at the door. Like I get how it needed to be this way for the show, but it's a funny concept XD

Their outfits are so cozy! I love how they use different shades of red for Yor. And a detail!

I love how every single piece of clothing Yor owns has rose-shaped buttons. It's like she has an unlimited supply of them in every colour and just replaces the normal buttons with them. I know it's for stylistic choice on Endo's part but it's a cute little headcanon to have XD

Anya <3 she doesn't understand and she's still freaked out by Yuri's obsession with Yor but she cares <3

And that's the thing! Anya cannot understand the intricacies of what's just happened. She just reads Yuri's mind and what she gets is "He needs comfort." And she offers it T_T

ACAB but that doesn't mean one can't be a sentimental bastard. You know?

The little heart on the moon ended me. What an episode!

Overall, I loved it, especially after writing down this analysis! Not much plot-wise but I really appreciated this look into the political situation and how all of it affects Yuri - and how there's a lot in him that can help him grow.

Oh, and reminder that I'm anime only, so please no spoilers from the manga 😁

#Spy x Family #sxf reaction #sxf meta

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elegantwoes · 1 year

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LMAO you have just completely lost the plot. That's so embarrassing. What is Sansa DOING in the Vale ?? It’s about to be book 6 out of 7 and she can’t even rule or command 3 flocks of peasants. NOTHING about her arc is about learning how to rule, not like Jon and Daenerys. Sansa doesn’t know how to tax, she's bad at maths, she doesn’t know how to negotiate, battle strategies or how to command armies. She’s NEVER had any experience in ruling much less run a household. Her biggest achievement is throwing a lavish feast and tournament for nobles (while winter is on the horizon and with it starvation) while Petyr hoards food to gouge prices and she does nothing about it and doesn’t even ask him about it. Do you think Elizabeth I, Wu Zetian, Margaret I of Denmark, or Catherine II of Russia were traditional, soft and delicate ??

Ah, sorry, I forget, Sansa also thought about Mya Stone, “She could be pretty, if she would dress up like a girl.”

Sansa’s narrative arc is a slow, subtle and steady one. Clearly she’s a dark horse character who is meant to take the reader by surprise. In order to enjoy her story in heart’s content you have to have a patient mind. The fact you can’t do that sounds more like a you problem rather than a Sansa problem. Secondly, running a household is what Sansa does in AFFC and the fact there hasn’t been problems indicates that she has been doing a good job. GRRM doesn’t have to spell everything out to you in order to get that, like are you a child? Read between the lines, anon.

I don’t know all the women you mentioned but I know a thing or two about Wu Zetian and Elizabeth Tudor. Are you seriously comparing Sansa to women who accumulated majority of their power in their mid twenties? At Sansa’s age Wu Zetian was a maiden still living at home and doing her homework like a good girl.. Elizabeth was being sexually abused by pedophile Thomas Seymour (just like what Sansa is enduring right now. Sansa shares similarities with her too, not just Eleanor of Aquitaine).

Thirdly, Sansa doesn’t need to learn everything for you to understand that she has a political arc and is groomed by GRRM to become a ruler. Like Jon has his pit falls too but that doesn’t take away his political arc. All that tells me is Sansa is exceptional in area where Jon is lacking and Jon’s strongest area are Sansa’s weaknesses. It’s almost like GRRM is setting them up to combine their skills and work like a team. Funny isn’t it. Fortunately they will likely meet in TWOW and then Sansa can learn what she lacks from Jon. So I say wait till the book comes out before judge Sansa’s TWOW sample chapter (which by the way is likely only a draft). Patience is a virtue, anon. Exercise some.

I fail to see what that random quote about Mya Stone has to do with the point you are making, but since we sharing quotes I will share one too:

By the time all the new knights had been given their sers the hall was growing restive, and none more so than Joffrey. Some of those in the gallery had begun to slip quietly away, but the notables on the floor were trapped, unable to depart without the king's leave. Judging by the way he was fidgeting atop the Iron Throne, Joff would willingly have granted it, but the day's work was far from done. For now the coin was turned over, and the captives were ushered in. (A Clash of Kings, Sansa VIII)

Sansa at the age of twelve can listen to hours of court hearings without feeling bored or restless, something what adults twice, or even thrice, her age cannot do, for some of them quietly leave court. In this scene Sansa is on the gallery (Sansa leaned forward, her hands tight around the gallery’s wooden rail) and she could just easily leave without being noticed, but she doesn’t. She stays till the very end. You what this tells me? That Sansa can handle the day to day boring bureaucratic work that is required from a ruler. In fact she loves it. I mean she voluntarily decided to attend the court that Ned held in AGOT and then excitedly told everything that happened in court to Jeyne. Miss. War Criminal on the other hand grows bored of holding court. So who exactly is not suited to rule here? It certainly isn’t Sansa.

#answered #sansa stark #anti daenerys targaryen

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pebblysand · 2 months

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HERE WE GO! WELCOME TO THE PAGE PALS PROJECT! THIS IS YOUR CONVERSATION STARTER FOR CHAPTER ONE. FEEL FREE TO SEND IN ASKS OR JOIN THE DISCORD FOR MORE!

HANDY LINKS/INFO:

chapter: i. out of sand (baby girl)

wordcount: 10, 157

playlist: notes here

castles FAQ: here

g e n e r a l t h o u g h t s:

I felt very emotional, beginning this chapter. There is a sense of finality in this project that I hadn't quite grasped before. This is - in all probability - the last time I read this fic. This is the last time I read this chapter. A chapter I have read dozens of times in the past few years - every time I was stuck, every time I needed to 'get back in.' Most of these paragraphs roll off the tip of my tongue when I read them out loud, because I've seen them so many times. And, I know that for you, reading this, this might not be the last time. Because you will go back, re-read this fic as many times as you like for as long as the internet exists. But I won't. That's not how my brain works, and I need to put projects behind me. To make room for new ones. And, so there is a sense of excitement, yes, reaching the end, but also a sense of grief.

If everything goes well, and if I do post the last chapter when I intend to, castles will have been four years of my life, almost to the day. COVID came and went, so did a couple of jobs, a relationship, a parent. I recently listened to an interview from Alexandre Astier where he described meeting someone in a supermarket once, who asked for an autograph for her husband. 'Ah, he's a massive fan,' she said. 'Though, to be honest, I never got into your work myself.' He was talking about how, for 'normal' people, people who aren't artists, someone else's art is just that: something that you like or don't like. But, for us, it's a part of ourselves. It's thousands of hours of work. And, sometimes, I wonder what castles says about me. What these thousands of hours have come down to. If I die tomorrow, which I hope I do not, this is one the things that I will leave behind me. And, so: what does it say about me? I mean: beyond the politics and the feminism and the quirky little interests. I mean: me, as a person. What do castles readers know about me? I'm not sure I even want to know.

t h e r e - r e a d:

I really enjoyed re-reading this chapter. It's funny to me how for you guys, depending on when you started the fic, you might have read multiple versions of this. I didn't make any big changes, nothing massive, but I did add a couple of scenes/lines here and there throughout the years, I'm curious to see whether you will notice.

in terms of the chapter itself, i think one of the things i like most about it is how it flows. it has that very distinctive castles prose to it, with the timeline that moves back and forth, the run-on sentences, the spiralling in and out of scenes. i recently got a comment on ff.net (lol) that said the chapter was messy and unreadable. and i think in a way, i like that. because frankly, if that bothers you in chapter 1, then you're probably not the right person for this fic, you know? i think chapter one serves its function well. a first chapter is supposed to be an intro, a taste of what you will read next, and i think it is perfect in that. it introduces the plot, the dynamic between the characters. it's long enough to signal that this isn't a fic where you'll read fifteen chapters in half an hour. i think you can read chapter one and tell if this is a fic you'll enjoy or not. and, that's what i want, really. that's what a first chapter should do.

having said that, i think there are two things i want to specifically dive into.

t h e h y p o:

early in the writing of castles, i used to get a lot of criticism about my version of post-war harry and ginny. particularly, there seems to be a subsection of the hinny-shipping crowd that basically thinks that harry and ginny would just meet after the war, scream at each other (or, that at least, ginny would be angry at harry for leaving her behind), kiss and make up, and pour their hearts out to each other about past events. specifically, these people believe that ginny is very good at weeding secrets out of harry, at getting him to talk, and thus the events of castles are not canon compliant with both of these characters.

i feel like objectively, it's not really my place to say whether that's correct. i think multiple versions of the same thing can be 'correct' depending on how you write them. but, if that's what floats your boat, if you have a very strong headcanon about this, then fine - by all means, go read something else (again, that's also the point of chapter 1). but i think this hypothesis sort of stuck in my head for a while, in light of the comments i was getting, because i couldn't help but wonder if that version of things isn't simply an idealised version of reality.

because, to read the books strictly: 1) ginny's anger at harry isn't obvious. you could argue it is there but she's actually quite calm in the break up scene. i am not sure she is that angry with him, especially when you think that she's just been through a war, lost a brother, etc. i think ginny is someone who knows there is a time and place for anger, and who is also incredibly strong and resilient. she still kisses him even after the break-up, after he's clearly decided to leave her behind , so i'm not sure she would lash out in these circumstances. additionally, 2) there's actually not that much evidence that harry and ginny talk to each other - ever. they're a hot and heavy thing, but they don't share much emotional stuff on screen. you can interpret the 'sunlit days' however you want, in the absence of further information, but it's not a given that ginny ever shares anything of importance about her past or her traumas, like what happened with tom. the one scene everyone always points to is the 'lucky you' scene, but that's a mutual understanding more than it is a conversation. she actually never mentions anything beyond very utilitarian details meant to help harry realise he's not being possessed. and, harry never canonically tells ginny about anything of importance in his life either.

and so what all of these comments drove me to do, a few months ago (i think i added this in september 2023) was to link that to the theme of those early chapters of castles. because one of the key elements of chapters 1-3, specifically, is this idea of the lifeline. of the way harry and ginny have spent months, at this point, idealising each other, idealising their reunion, for it to later come crashing down on them. and so i thought i would use the opportunity of chapter one to 1) try and address the 'criticism' above, and 2) make it fit within the world of castles. it led to this:

In his head, their reunion would have been something sweet, like her lips moving against his, the taste of the raspberry-flavoured lip balm she used to wear the year before. He would have confessed to all of his sins, to almost dying, to Hallows and Horcruxes, to the fear and the nightmares, to leaving her behind. ‘I’m sorry,’ he would have said. ‘I am so, so sorry.’ And, he would have tried to explain like he did last year, that all he ever wanted was to protect her, to keep her safe, and she would have yelled. Shouted at the top of her lungs in a rapid succession of angry jabs about what an arsehole he was. ‘I can take care of myself!’ she would have thrown back. ‘You left me!’ He would have looked to his feet. With time, he hopes that they would have fixed it. In reality, though, Ginny Weasley hands him a toothbrush that morning, as he sits back on his heels. Her stare digs holes into the side of his face and he wonders if, had he been Hermione or Luna (had he been a friend, still), she would have cajoled him. Handed him a wet towel for his forehead. Instead, she closes the door behind her on her way out. ‘You should shower,’ she says.

i love the sort of whiplash effect this scenes gives, of the fantasy v. post-war reality, which is obviously a massive theme in castles. and i also love the way it subtly signals that ginny might have changed (just like he has) throughout the war. because, obviously, she has, and we later find out why.

s e x a n d f u n e r a l s:

i cannot express how attached i am to that scene, and to that line in particular. i think there's a number of reasons for this:

first, it's the line that basically motivated me to start castles for real in 2020. i have said this before in other posts but i started drafting some sort of post-war hinny fic as early as 2007. i never finished anything, then when i was 17 (2010), i did a re-read and actually drafted something new. then dropped it again. and, that file transferred from laptop to laptop, from file to file for ten years without me touching it much. until covid came and i was looking through my drive, and i tenderly read what 17-year-old me had written back then, including this 'first time' sex scene which, to be honest, has mostly remained untouched in the final version of this. and, i remember finding it, reading it, and thinking the rest of what i had written was a bit cringe, but that one scene seemed to work. and then, i got to the (now famous) line: to him, the spring of '98 is about sex and funerals, and thought fuck, that's a good line. like, a really good line. and i didn't want to let it go to waste. and, so, four years later, here we are.

i think that line is a very good symbol of what this story is about. 'sex and funerals' - it's a metaphor for how life is about the good and the bad things. that they co-exist as one single entity, and that the beauty of what we do, of the way we live, resides somewhere in between. it's why i chose it as the summary back then, and why it is still the summary now. i really built the entire fic around that line. so, yeah, 17-year-old jo, you already had something going for you, darling.

l a s t l y:

a thought i had while re-reading (and please don't come at me for this), is that... this could have been a one-shot. like, it really could have. i finished chapter 1 and there's a sort of finality to it, isn't there? like, i'm glad i continued this fic, but part of me thinks that all i've been trying to say in the past four years actually is in this chapter. obviously, not as detailed or subtle, but it's there, you know? it could have been a one-shot, lmao.

but anyway, i'm curious, did you guys enjoy your re-read? did you notice the changes i made throughout the years? did you enjoy them? feel free to send me an ask or join the discord server to discuss. i'm so excited to get this discussion started and hear your thoughts!

#castles #chapter 1 #and so it begins

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etoilesombre · 6 months

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Never have I ever game-- you're known for playing with the source material in ways that don't change canon's outcome, but would you ever do a non-canon Black Sails take? An AU that is entirely different setting from pirates, mod au, fairytale au, space au, cowboy au, etc?

Oh that is a great question. I don't generally do AU, and especially not modern AU, because for me personally it is hard to put them into a high enough stakes environment to explore the elements of the show I'm interested in. HOWEVER. There is one that I started to consider a while ago and have pretty thoroughly fleshed out, and have a serious plan to start once other projects are finished, and that is: Russian Revolution AU! Ok. Stick with me here. [Or don't. I'm going to put this under a cut, it is a lot, and may not make very much sense if you don't already know something about the historical period.]

So, I love the idea of using the Russian revolution as a way to explore some of the same dynamics as the show because it is a period in which there was a lot of righteous idealism, and then it all went very wrong, which naturally brings up questions of ideological commitment vs survival, what are you willing to sacrifice, how do your ideals hold up in the real world, etc. It is also a time when how queerness was treated was very in flux, fitting well with 'we care if its politically convenient to care.'

Basically, we start in the early 1920s right after Lenin dies. Flint is a general, old guard party member, was a commander in the civil war. He is known for doing Really Heinous Flinty Shit during that period. He is sort of revered but also feared, and very ideologically motivated, and so of course he is about to get his ass purged when Stalin starts to consolidate and bring everybody into line.

Silver (10ish years younger) grew up during the upheaval of the 1905, WWI, 1917. He's his survivalist trauma bundle self, and ends up working as a low level NKVD (early Soviet intelligence) guy. He gets sent to keep tabs on/gather evidence against Flint - there is immediately a Frenemies attraction spark there. For Plot Reasons they have to do something together and become Reluctant Allies. I have some of the actual plot worked out but I'm not going to get much into it here, but there is absolutely a parallel conflict in values to the show, and choice that has to be made at the end.

IN THE MEAN TIME interspersed through all of this, in flashbacks: back sometime in the years right after the 1905 revolution, Flint is a promising young military guy who came up from nothing, and has a Hennessey parallel benefactor who sends him to school to be educated. He falls in with Thomas, who is the son of a minor prince, very queer and getting away with it, and is a radical in the Christian anarchist Tolstoy model. Flint gets radicalized through him and his friends, they spend happy years abroad in exile with Thomas writing and Flint being a tactician and doing direct action stuff. They come back in 1917, the civil war starts, Thomas is basically murdered by his family because he sided against them, and he is still set to inherit. SO, that is why Flint goes all Darkness and gets especially nasty during the civil war.

There is a Miranda proxy as well. I believe she disappears and her disappearance is what sets off Plot Events.

It's also set in St. Petersburg, if anybody is wondering. Moscow, with the level I have Flint at, would involve too much interaction with Actual Historical Figures, and while I know a fair amount about this era and am totally committed to research, but still, that gets to be Much.

So, there you have it, Russia AU! My delusional long-term goal is for this to be different enough from canon that it could be published. Thanks for the ask, it's helping me get excited about that project again!

#a lot of the point of Longfic is actually teaching myself to write well enough to do this #ok this is the last one of these i'll throw in the tag i promise #but i can't resist i love this project so much and will take any opportunity to talk about it #anon #black sails #my writing #fanfic #russia au #ask game #spinning shit out on tumblr is so much easier than writing

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theladyheroine · 7 months

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Miraculous Zorro AU! 🇲🇽

Okay this was actually an idea for an art piece that I came up with. But then I got too excited and decided to make a headcanon before that, like groundwork! I hope y'all enjoy!

┗━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━┛

Okay, now as for the time period I decided to go with the 1820s of Mexico, although I couldn't really think of a specific place for the AU? So let's just go with a port town or city maybe?

Also for those wondering, yes, I did take inspiration from the old Zorro movies lol. If anyone hasn't seen it I recommend it, although the sequel is kinda okay in my opinion. But the first one is better.

But anyways, going back in time, the Miraculous used to be in the hands of Mexican citizens during the 1820s. These heroes were known as La Mariquita and El Gato Oscuro, a pair of vigilantes set to stop the dastardly deeds of El Rey Pollillia. An underground crook who is known for sending out villains to do his work.

༻Characters༺

Rosita “Rosa” Sandoval is a local baker who works at her family's panadería in the middle of the city, as well as their delivery girl. While she is kindhearted and cheerful, she has a bit of an attitude. Whether it's with a customer or just anyone, she has a bit of trouble keeping to herself and doesn’t know when the right time to be honest is. This can lead to her coming off as brash at times, even without meaning to.

Enrique Aguirre is a Hispanic nobleman as well as the mayor's son. Since his father is a high political figure, Enrique does have a very formal demeanor but does his best to make others feel welcome. He has a big heart, although he can be a bit sensitive with other people. Leading him to be kind of timid. Especially about his occupation: he does not want his father's position.

Carlos Aguirre is the mayor of the city, who is also known as El Rey Pollillia. His son does not know he is a crook, but he tries his best to keep it from him.

༻Plot Line༺

When the two get their Miraculous, I had the idea of making their personalities similar to how Marinette and Adrien behave when they're superheroes. However, I added my own twist. Normally, Marinette acts a bit more confident when she is Ladybug, and the same can be said for Adrien when he is Chat Noir. Although I wanted my version of the character growth to be different since these Miraculous holders are different people.

Even though Rosa is headstrong, she learns to soften up and connect with someone close to her rather than just being “honest” with people. While Enrique learns that he has to stand up for himself in order to stand up for other people.

Because of this, I even had the idea to include the love square into the AU, but switched too lol. So to put it clearly, Rosa has a crush on her partner Gato Oscuro. Who she thinks is sweet and compassionate but also really cool. While Enrique has a crush on Rosa, who he meets at her bakery when he's trying to get away from his workload. Who he thinks is so passionate and brave.

༻Fun Facts༺

Instead of the piano, Enrique can play the guitar! Think of Manolo from the Book of Life; I can imagine Enrique sneaking out to go play with a mariachi band somewhere! 🤣

This idea I do wanna make an art piece of this if I can find a good reference, but I can imagine Mariquita and El Gato having a sword duel upon their first meeting. Kind of how Ladybug and Chat Noir met in the movie, but more bickering lol.

Maybe they both freak out at first, thinking the other is a bad guy or some kind of villain, and they have this epic sword duel jumping off of walls and barrels! Before realizing that they're the good guys destined to stop El Pollillia.

I can also imagine Plagg having the time of his life in Mexico due to all the food and epics! Like he sneaks into the kitchen at night to steal some leftover queso or even dessert.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous awakening #miraculous chat noir #miraculous au #miraculous movie #miraculous oc #zorro #the mask of zorro #mexico #mexican culture #miraculous headcanons #miraculous ladybug headcanons

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hardlypartying · 2 months

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Hello!! I love your riara fic! I never thought I would like that ship, but I love the way you write them, so I’m hooked. Read for the jjpope tag, stayed for the amazing writing (although I still love your jjpope crumbs)!

I’m so sad there are only 22 chapters, and I hope you end up writing more, but if you don’t, have you ever thought of writing more for riara in the future? 😊

Hi!! First of all, thank you so much for this message omg :’) I’m so happy that you ventured out into the world of riara, it isn’t for everyone but I like to believe there’s something compelling there! I love hearing how people are pleasantly surprised by it haha

Before I knew about any ships or anything really about obx, I would see bits and pieces of jjpope and fully thought they were together. Or at least would eventually get together because ?? The scenes ?? The pining ?? What was all that for?? There’s smth to be said about public opinion and how that mobilized j*ara to get together and they were cowards to not do anything with jjpope. Granted, like you said, my fic only has crumbs of them 😭 and I would love to write them more into the story or even do a fic for just them

We’re really nearing the end of this fic and I’m blown away by that because I’ve been writing this for a while! I’m just proud that I’ve gotten to this point where I can say that things will be wrapping things up. It’s so exciting getting to these chapters because they were the ones I knew I wanted to write when I initially thought of this fic, it’s sooooo rewarding to get them out now and have you and others comment about enjoying it!! 🫶

But with one door closing another one will inevitably open, as for Riara fics— I’ve got one I’ve been working on! However, it’s a lot different than KRCG which I intentionally kept very light and fun. This new one will be quite controversial because it’s more of a dark fic, darker than my bad habit riara fic at some points and I know that’s everyone’s major issue with riara in the first place. I’ve alluded to it in the past but it takes place in s3 when the plane goes down. Rather than Kiara getting kidnapped by Singh, she’s “rescued” by Rafe and works things to her advantage to plan an escape back to the rest of the pogues. Essentially it’s them being forced to work together since they both have leverage they’re using to be useful to the other person— they get involved in the illegal trades, there are heists, jetting off to various countries for prospective clients, black market business dealings, general politics re: the criminal underbelly of the world, etc. Almost like a mafia au but without Rafe being a suave mafiasso lmao he’s just as out of his depth as Kiara is. I’m having a lot of fun with this one since it’s fully an enemies to lovers and I really enjoy deconstructing K&R’s preconceived notions of one another bit by bit and letting them humanize each other and grapple with what morality means to them. Mainly, it’s just drammmmaaa and them being badass 🥰

I am preparing myself for this to not be as well received with everyone since it’s quite out there and includes all the typical elements of riara that people don’t like, unapologetically and leaning into it even more. But the thought popped into my mind when s3 first came out and drew said that sometimes it feels like he’s on a totally different show than the rest of the cast bc of the scenes he gets, and that never left my mind— it took me a year to plan out the plot and I have so many pages of my notebook covered in moments, plot lines, dialogue, plot twists, drama, reveals that I want to write and now it’s finally happenjng ! So I’m very stoked for it but can understand & respect that people might want to sit this one out!

#certified yapper I’m so sorry that I can’t just say thank you and call it a day #thank you so much for this truly I appreciate it so so so much #there are no words to express how unreal it is that you wherever you are read this little story and sent me a message appreciating it #and also more importantly #welcome to the riara family!!#despite the criticisms of the ship everyone here is an absolute angel 🩷#oh and nothing personal with the censoring of jiara lol it’s just not something I want to pop up in their tag #not my monkey not my circus #could’ve been my monkey and circus if they hadn’t rushed their development and let it happen more organically but that’s for another time #ask #riara

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elijahlittle · 1 year

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I have been scouring this fucking app for Julian fics, never really occurred to I can just request some lol.

So yeah, if you're up for it I've got a little plot/trope set up that'd id love to see. Outsider(fem)reader/julian.

Something along the lines of a reader moving into the park from the southern us, new to Canada and parks in general. As an outsider, Julian expected you to be trouble or judgemental, so he acts like a dick to you at first. Later on, he starts to see instead how kind you are to everyone, understanding and totally up for doing ppl favors even when there's nothing for you in the end. This makes him feel real guilty for bein an ass to you, and also makes him start to feel other things towards u.. Take the fic in whatever direction you'd I wanna see u work ur magic

( + no pressure 2 write it ofc!!)

pairing: julian/fem!reader fandom: trailer park boys tags: smut (cis man/cis woman), fluff, a bit of angst, idk this is one of my more normal ones, heavy plot some porn (i kind of felt more plot focused with this one), julian is kind of hung (he gives me big dick energy) author's note: i'm much more of a ricky kinda guy myself but when i got this request, i got really fucking excited. i loved the idea. i will say, this fic isn't structured traditionally. it's very dialogue heavy and kind of leaves some things up to the imagination. i wanted to establish relationships between the reader and other people in the park as well as share some of julian's private conversations about her. i'm really proud of the way this has turned out, though i'm sorry if it's not the interpretation you might have been hoping for (i'm a little insecure about the way i interpret storylines). i hope you like it, though. i worked hard on it and i'm pretty sure it's the longest julian/reader fic currently on the internet so i'm going to take that fucking win rn. also, i actually live in the southern united states. (fun fact: i'm looking to move because i'm a trans man and life here is kind of ass if you're trans), so i gave the reader a backstory that's kind of unique to what a woman in 1999-2000 would have gone through. i'm not satisfied with the ending though, i'm sorry if this fic is a little lackluster, but we can only go up from here i guess. text blocking this shit was a fucking BITCH. word count: 6,442

everything i've ever let go of has claw marks on it.

The cultural climate of Sunnyvale Trailer Park wasn't exactly the most inviting. There were people who lived in the park and then there was everyone else. For the most part, newcomers never lasted more than a few weeks. The bottle kids drove away the weakest among them, but if those kids weren't effective usually Ricky's antics drove away the remaining lot. Sure, there were a few people here and there who moved in quietly, but those were usually the kind of people that minded their own business because lot rent was low enough for them to just ignore Lahey.

But in general, new people were not welcome. Especially know-it-all hipsters trying to live the simple life by casting away their possessions in an expensive storage unit and downsizing to a more humble trailer. Those were the kinds of guys that gave up quickly. Plus, new people threatened the balance of park politics. For the most part, Julian was well-liked and well-respected among the others due to his caring nature and dedication to his loved ones. He protected his own. And if there was one thing Julian didn't like, it was newcomers coming into the park without already knowing someone in it.

"Barb, I really think you should reconsider letting this girl in. I mean, you don't even know who she is."

"Julian, this is a business, not a family estate. Her credit was just below decent, she has an okay-paying job, and paid three months of rent in advance. From a business perspective, she seems like she'll be a reliable tenant. It's a good thing you've grown close with your community, but you have to remember at the end of the day, this trailer park is here to make money. Whatever fit of paranoia you're suffering through, deal with it on your own time. Next time you come here with a complaint, make sure it's a business one."

And just like that, Barb had shooed Julian off. What more could he say to that? Well, he had a lot more to say to that but she didn't want to listen. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, she only guided him further to the door. If Julian thought he was the one who ran this trailer park, he had another thing coming for him that's what. This dump needed more reliable tenants - normal folks who didn't like to get into trouble. Barb was trying to turn the park's image around.

"Julian, I just don't understand why you're so against this lady stayin' here. You know I'm no fan of newcomers myself, but she's been mindin' her own. She actually keeps her yard clean, which is pretty fuckin' nice if you ask me. It's nice to pass a yard that doesn't have a million fuckin' pieces of trash thrown all over the front. She even has one of those pink fuckin' yard flamingos in her yard. It's so bright and colorful. There ain't nothin' wrong with a little bit of color, Julian. Ain't nothin' wrong with a little bit of change."

"Are you even listening to yourself talk Bubbles? Can you hear what you're saying? You're saying change for this park is good. Who knows what she believes in. She might hate dope growers, she may be workin' with Lahey, she could get nosy and bust us for dope and you know Ricky and I are growin' a lot of dope -"

"- I know, I've seen that big fuckin' setup you got in that fuckin' trailer in that shitty little lot -"

"- so then Bubbles you should know that new people aren't good. We can't trust new people, especially not now. Especially not when we're so close to selling them to those prison guards and retiring. A stranger could compromise the whole thing. Remember those bible scammers that came through here? I've learned my lesson since then and I'm not tryna repeat old mistakes."

"Jesus Murphy Julian, you need to calm down. Those fuckin' assholes were obviously scammers, it's not like this lady is goin' door to door scammin' people."

"Sure maybe she's not taking advanced orders on bibles Bubbles, but she is goin' in and out of everyone's house doin' favors for them. Why does she need to see the inside of everyone's house? Do you think she's lookin' for something?"

"Have you ever stopped to think that maybe she's just a nice person doin' a nice thing? Nice people exist. You've been dealin' with dope and crime and jail so much that it's like you forgot how to trust someone. All you think about is dope and how you're going to protect it from everyone else."

"You're only defendin' her because she brings you boxes of canned cat foods for your cats. She's buyin' you off and you don't even know it."

"So what if she's helpin' me take care of my kitties? My kitties are the most important things to me and unlike you, she fuckin' knows that. If someone's offering to help take care of my precious little kitties, who the fuck am I to say no?"

"Bubbles, look -"

"No, no, nevermind." Bubbles tucks a gray cat further into his arms, his posture becoming more rigid. It's clear that he's done with the conversation, no longer interested in trying to hammer commonsense into Julian's brain. He couldn't see past his own paranoia and it was infuriating. In Julian's mind, everyone in the world was out to get him - even the nice lady across the street who helped his friend support his kitties. "You just don't get it, Julian. I'm goin' back home, come talk to me when you get it."

Julian was still convinced he was right about this girl. If the bottle kids didn't run you out, he'd just take matters into his own hands. He didn't care whether or not Bubbles helped. Julian was a man of many connections, and even if he couldn't find someone else to get the job done he had no qualms with taking care of the situation himself.

"I mean, if you think that lady's dangerous then you know I'm gonna follow you Julian 'cause you got the brains and stuff behind the projector, but I just gotta let you know I'm still workin' on my grade ten so whatever idea you have you got to make sure it's not illegal 'cause I can't go back to jail, not right before Trinity's birthday. That means we can't do any property damage or breaking and entering or any shit like that."

"I promise you Ricky we're not gonna go back to jail, we're just gonna annoy the shit out of her until she leaves. I was thinkin' maybe you and Cory and Trevor could host like a really loud party across the street tomorrow night, you know - something to keep her awake. If we get a noise complaint, we'll just shut it down, but then once the cops leave we'll start it back up again. We'll do this for a few nights until she finally decides to move out."

"That's a pretty fucking good idea, that's smart. Plus, since it's a party we can get drunk and high."

It's 2 a.m. and that fucking party is still going. There were several times you considered calling in a noise complaint but you decided that it was a better idea to just wait it out. It had to end at some point and overall, it was never a good idea to get involved with parties like that because sometimes they got out of a hand, and you were too smart to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Though when you stepped outside to 'check your mailbox' - spy on the party still going on into the early hours of the morning - you find yourself tripping over something. You stumble onto your hands and knees and it's only when you pull yourself up do you really get a good look at the man passed out by your mailbox. It's Ricky, and he's mumbling things almost incoherently. He mutters something about dope, bitches, Trinity, more bitches, Lucy, and good booze. It's a pathetic way to be, but you can't help but feel bad for you.

You use the toe of your shoe to rock his face awake. Ricky sputters before waking up in a drunk panic. He's angry and yelling incoherently, but your promise of a hot shower and a hot sandwich satiates his anger. He struggles his way through a shower, though almost slips a few times. He eats hand to mouth, chewing loudly, and drunk conversation ensues. He shares a lot with you - stuff he probably wouldn't have shared sober. He eventually passes out, not remembering much in the morning. That morning you share breakfast and a little bit about each other. He tried to hate you, he really did, but you were charismatic in a friendly way. There weren't any ulterior motives, you just enjoyed conversation.

"I don't know Julian, she seems fine to me. I mean, she's not all that bad. Her yard is pretty clean and you know, she has that pink little flamingo in her yard and honestly it's pretty fuckin' cute. I mean yeah she's kinda annoying and I hate that fuckin' southern fuckin' cowboy accent she fucking has but whatever. I think you're gettin' worked up over nothin'. You've been so busy tryna push out this lady who hasn't done nothin' wrong to you while I'm over here slavin' away watchin' after these fuckin' dope plants and tryin' to study for my grade ten all while play peepin' tom spy guy on some poor fuckin' lady."

"You're just saying that 'cause she let you spend the night and made you breakfast."

"You know what I sure as fuck I am! She made me breakfast and kept me from sleepin' on the fuckin' ground drunk as piss and let me use her shower and shit and I didn't even have to put out! It's not like I trust her or anything like that - I didn't talk about dope or nothin' like that at all." That was the truth. "It's just at this point anything is better than fucking Cory and Trevor. I'm not sayin' you gotta like her or trust her, but she's not all that bad Julian. Maybe if you actually got to fuckin' know her like I have you'd see that you're just being a paranoid dickbag."

"You know what Ricky, you don't anything about her. You're just seeing what she wants you to see. But I'm smart, so I see right through it -"

"Come on Julian don't be like that -"

"- and since nobody is going to take care of this fucking situation then I guess I'll have to."

Julian felt like everyone around him was failing him. Nobody else seemed to feel the same way he did about your existence in the trailer park. As each day passed, Julian grew more overtly snide. When approaching Ricky and Bubbles, Julian never took the time to acknowledge you. It was obvious that he was just being an ass, so you opted to ignore it, preferring not to fight. Silence was Julian's strongest weapon. But as the days ticked by, the tension between you and Julian only seemed to mount itself higher.

It's not like you inherently disliked Julian. In fact, you liked to believe that there was good in everyone and you prided yourself in your ability to be able to pull even the toughest people out of their shell. However, Julian was no easy project. Every time you tried to approach him, he simply brushed you off. You weren't even sure that the two of you had even exchanged any greetings. He hadn't even said hello. So when trying to talk to him didn't work, you simply tried to stay out of his way. This was frustrating for Julian because what he wanted you to do was to blow up and make it a big ordeal. But you didn't. You simply kept to yourself and resumed helping others around the park without complaints.

There were times where Julian thought about approaching you in the way Julian thinks about approaching any pretty thing in a summer dress that talks to him. But he remains strong in the face of adversity. Gone were the days of chasing anything in a dress. He had a dope business to worry about.

But sometimes the thought would creep up onto Julian ever so slowly. Sometimes, he'd get this kind of fantasy in his head - especially on the Sunday afternoons you'd spend gently pushing yourself back and forth in your rocking chair, enjoying the summer sunlight. He could think of a million ways you two could enjoy the afternoon together, but he often pushed the thought out of his head. He had a park to protect. Friends to protect.

"You know, you have some real nerve comin' up here in this trailer park and putting on a show like you're doing."

You look up from the rocking chair you were gently pushing yourself back and forth in and offer Julian a small smile.

"So you're Julian?"

Julian can't help but be a bit enamored with your slight southern drawl. It sounds like you're somewhere from the deep southern United States - one of those more rural provinces like Texas or Alabama. He can't quite pinpoint the accent, but he secretly finds it endearing.

"And how do you know that?"

"I mean, with how much you do for the people here it's kind of hard not to know who you are. Plus, Ricky and Lucy both never seem to shut up about you. You know, if I didn't know any better I'd say they're both in love with you or something. Also, yesterday you came to pick up Ricky and he pointed right at you and said well, there's Julian, see ya later. I just put two and two together."

"I'm not here to make small talk, (name)."

"Then what are you here to do, Julian?"

There's silence. What is he here to do. There wasn't anything that he could reasonably do and he wasn't the terrorizing type if he didn't have to be. Fuck, he had even promised that his greasy trouble-causing days were over. But here he was, standing at the edge of the patio stairs, contemplating whether or not he should threaten a woman.

"I'm just here to ask you about your intentions with Ricky, that's all."

You can't help but laugh out loud at the comment. "Oh, please. There's nothing going on between us."

Julian knows that because if there was something going on between you and Ricky, Ricky wouldn't shut up about it and the whole park would know. But he's trying to be covert about his intent to interrogate you.

"Yeah, well . . . there better not be . . . Ricky's a good guy and I'd really hate to see him get hurt . . ."

"Why are you really here, Julian?"

Julian stands in silence, thoughtfully cradling his glass in his hand as he tries to come up with a clever lie - but it's hard to think when he catches a glimpse of your thighs pressed together underneath your thin summer dress. He squints and then looks away briefly.

"I just wanted to stop by and tell you more about the culture of Sunnyvale. You know, we're really tight-knit. Like family."

"I know."

"And you know, family protects family."

"I know."

"And you know, I'd do anything for my family."

"I know."

"Anything."

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm not getting at anything, (name). I'm just givin' you a little more info about our park, just trying to get acquainted with you."

"Oh, you're trying to get acquainted with me? This is the first time I've spoken to you in the month I've been living here."

"Well, you know, I was busy with the business I'm running -"

"- that lawn mowing business you and Ricky got?"

Is that what Ricky is calling it? "Yeah, we've had a lot of customers so I've been having to do a lot of bookwork to keep up with the business you know. But it's been busy, so I haven't had time to talk, but now I do and I want to get to know you."

"You want to get to know me?"

"That's what I just said isn't it?"

"Well I'll tell you what Julian," You push the chair backwards in thought, looking up at the bright summer sky. The sun shines in your face, warming your skin. It's a nice feeling. "If you really want to get to know me, you'll come over for dinner tonight."

Julian wasn't going to admit it but he was excited at the prospect of dinner. The last time he shared time - much less a meal - with a woman, she ended up stealing his dope plants and lying to him about being in love. In all fairness, most people would have been wary of someone saying I love you within the first week of getting to know them, but Julian (for the most part) was a hopeless romantic. He liked the idea of a life with someone else.

Julian told himself that this was strictly business - that he was here to set the record straight. This wasn't get-to-know-you dinner, this wasn't a date. He was just here to let you know that he wasn't going to tolerate funny business. He just happened to be wearing his nicest clean black shirt and he just happened to be wearing one of his nicer pair of jeans - the ones that didn't have the holes in them. Julian knocks on your door. The two minutes he waits for you to answer feels like an eternity but when you open the door, he's glad he's waited.

"You got a hot date you're going to after this?"

"What, this?" You look down at the pink summer dress you're wearing, "This is casual." You had always been the more feminine type, enjoying softer clothes and pretty dresses. Plus, unlike jeans dresses were more comfortable. You usher him inside and he obliges, being careful to not spill his drink when he steps in.

"Dinner is served." Dinner being a massive fucking bowl of macaroni and cheese with cheap ass hot dogs. "Sorry it's not exactly the best, but -"

"It's fine, don't worry about it." Julian sets his glass down. He's actually ecstatic. Macaroni and cheese and fucking hotdogs? "You know, I don't know where you're from but around here this is a five-star meal."

You give a dry laugh. as Julian picks up his fork to eat. "You'll have to forgive me, I'm kind of new to the whole trailer park life and the whole being poor thing."

"Oh yeah? Where are you from?"

"Southern United States."

"What state?"

"Texas."

"That's a long way from here, basically on the other side of the continent. Why'd you come up this way?" Julian tells himself that he's not trying to get to know you because he's interested in you - he's trying to get to know you to get dirt on you, to know what he's up against.

"I needed an abortion." You answer dryly, "And even though it's been legal for some years now, no physician was wiling to perform one on me."

"Why come to Nova Scotia? Why not just go to another state?"

"Well, I figured things were just better here than they were there. Don't get me wrong, it's not perfect by any means but it's better than where I was from. At least here I know if I need the service again, it's a little more reliably accessible. Plus, it's not like I had anywhere or anyone I could turn to. So I just kind of . . . stayed."

"Heavy stuff." Julian sets down his fork, "Didn't have any family to turn to?"

"No, and even if I did they're not the kind of people I'd want to be around."

Julian could relate to that.

"So you just came to Canada for an abortion and then decided to stay? You know, when Americans come to Canada they want to go to Quebec. Nova Scotia isn't exactly on the top of the list, let alone Dartmouth. Let alone fucking Sunnyvale Trailer Park. Nobody just moves in here. Come on, (name) . . . what's the real reason why you're staying here?"

Your mouth runs dry as you consider answering him honestly. "Well, uh . . . you know . . ." You twiddle your thumbs a bit, "I came to Canada with my passport and got my abortion and then . . . I just uh . . ." There's a long pause as your appetite disappears completely. "I didn't have anywhere to go to so I just . . . never left . . . this place was the only place that'd rent to an illegal resident . . ."

"Holy fuck you don't have your papers?" Julian wasn't sure what kind of story he was expecting but it wasn't that. Now he feels like an asshole. "How did you get a job? How did you even afford this place?"

"Well, I had some savings so that was a good cushion, but when that ran out I was able to find a job working as a waitress at that little restaurant just out of town. I'm not technically on the payroll, they just don't make me report my tips, and any extra money is kind of . . . earned under the table." You respond sheepishly.

God, Julian feels like such a fucking jackass for being a raging asshole to you.

"That's . . . hard." Julian doesn't really know what else to say.

"Yeah."

"Well, I've shared my deepest darkest secret with you. Do you want to share anything with me?"

You and Julian talk well into the early hours of the morning, swapping life stories, funny anecdotes, and talking about all of the small things in between. Honestly, he feels at ease with you in a way he hasn't felt at ease before. The conversation flows naturally and even the silence you occasionally fall into feels comfortable. It's nearly two in the morning when you both look at the small clock hanging on your wall and realize the time.

". . . well, it's a little late . . ." You stretch in your chair, still sitting across the table from Julian. You don't really want him to go, but you've both run out of things to talk about and you still have some errands you have to run before work tomorrow. "You know, I have some things I gotta do tomorrow . . . but if you're feeling nice, maybe you can pay me back for dinner by making some for me. I'm usually too tired to cook when I get home . . . you know, only if you want to."

It's hard for Julian to say no to that face.

"What time do you get off work?"

. . .

Julian continues to insist that he doesn't feel some kind of way, that he's just taking the opportunity to really get to know you - you know, in case you ever pose a threat - but the nightly dinner-dates seem to differ.

"Why is it so hard to admit that you have a hard-on for (name)? It's so fucking obvious."

"It's not like that Ricky. You know, I have somewhere to be so why don't you just fuck off and give me some fucking space?"

"Oh yeah I know exactly where you want to be, all up in -"

The truth of the matter was that even though Julian fantasized about it at night, truly nothing had happened. You were sweet, kind, intelligent, patient, compassionate - a truly wonderful person. And that was the problem. Normally, Julian found himself happy to jump into a relationship, but he found himself afraid of making a fool of himself. Guys like him didn't get with girls like you. Simple as that. Besides, love just wasn't in the cards for Julian. It just never worked out like that.

Tonight was yet another night of disappointment. You had lingered on Julian's doorstep after dinner, hoping that maybe he'd make a move and at least give you a kiss goodnight - but the two of you simply stood there awkwardly until he nodded, saying he was probably going to go off to bed now. It was frustrating because you thought you were sending all of the right signals. Light touches, flirtatious giggles, risque comments - the works. But yet again, you find yourself leaving empty-handed. It wasn't that you weren't satisfied with the friendship, you really liked the dynamic the two of you had. You liked that Julian showed you ways to save money, ways to spruce up the trailer home so it felt more roomy, showed you around town a bit - but it left you feeling a bit stupid because you could have sworn the two of you had something more. You could just feel it. But he never addressed it and it drove you crazy.

You knock on the door nervously, your hands shaking.

Julian answers the door again. "What's going on?"

"I don't want to go home just yet. This is about the time J-Roc films his adult films. Can I just sit here for thirty more minutes? He usually finishes up around one in the morning or so."

"Uh, yeah, sure, come on in. You can hang out here. I have to shower because, you know, I got somewhere to be in the morning -" Tomorrow was the day he was supposed to drop off the product with the prison guards, "- normally I'd wait up but I got some important stuff I gotta take care of tomorrow. I'm about to get ready for bed, so you can just leave whenever you're ready."

"Alright."

You find yourself sitting awkwardly on the couch as Julian disappears into the bathroom. The trailer shakes a bit when he turns on the water and you can hear the pipes rush before the water falls like rain into the tub. You sit in silence and contemplate. You couldn't keep going back and forth like this, it'd get nowhere. He had hinted a few times at maybe having feelings. Sometimes his hand would linger on the small of your back too long when he was moving past you, or he'd stand too close to you - so close your shoulders would touch - whenever he got the chance. But nothing would ever come of it, and you were tired of it. You think about maybe joining him in the shower but that's too ballsy of a move, so you simply sit there and listen to the shower run until it's turned off. There's more shuffling and you can hear him go into his room. The hallway light turns off and the door clicks close. You should probably get going by now, but you can't bring yourself to just leave.

. . .

You feel like a psychopath drifting down the hallway. You only came down here to use the bathroom, but now you were standing at his bedroom door - contemplating whether or not you should knock on the door.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Ricky, is that you? I told you to stop picking my fucking lock -"

"No," You answer meekly, "It's me. I uh, wanted to take that book back I lent you before I went home. I didn't see it in your living room so I figured you might be keeping it in here."

Julian stares up at the ceiling in thought. Julian is pretty book-smart and it doesn't take a genius to know the game you're running. He's been down this road a thousand times. He wants to say yes, but there's still the lingering fear of ruining the good friendship that's already there.

Julian turns his head to look at his nightstand, the small paperback book sat there. Shit, maybe you weren't playing any games.

"Yeah, give me a moment, I'll come bring it to you."

"You don't have to go through that trouble, I'll just come get it real quick . . . if that's alright with you."

". . . that's alright with me."

You gently push the door open, slipping through before gently closing the door behind you. You can only see the outline of Julian's body in the dark, a few shadows illuminated by the moonlight that drifts in through the blinds.

"It's right over here." You see the shadow of Julian's hand reach over and grab the thick book. Infinite Jest.

"I'll come get it." You pull yourself up onto the bed, you're knees on either side of his feet. Gently, you shimmy your way up, crawling over him on your hands and knees. Julian shifts a bit. Both of your breaths are heavy and as you sit yourself comfortably on his waist, you watch his chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. Gently, you pluck the book from his hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Julian's voice is barely over a whisper.

You thumb through the thick book, landing on a page barely illuminated by the moonlight, reading the page you've thumbed to. "Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it." Truer words have never been spoken. Like everything in life, Julian has sunk his fingernails so deep into it he's drawn blood. He likes to pretend he can let things go, but he can't.

Julian's hands gently grip at your hips, squeezing them softly - almost like he's afraid that if he squeezes too tight he'll hurt you. His fingers grip at your waist, gently pushing your hips backwards, guiding them in a gentle rocking motion against him. Your hips follow the movement of his hands, rocking against him with a pleased hum.

"Is that right?" Julian asks in a whisper.

"That's right." You respond gently.

"Me included?" He can't hope that you want him so bad that you'd sink your nails so deep into him that he'd never be able to leave you, even if he wanted to. And even if you wanted to leave him, he'd probably stay around and beg for you to take him back anyway.

"If you'll let me."

If he wasn't rock hard before he's rock fucking hard now. "I want you." Julian's voice is hoarse, completely contradicting his typically firm and masculine present. He melts under you. Whether he wanted to believe it or not, Julian was a romantic and the touch of a woman he really valued meant a lot to him. His breath is labored as he guides your hips against him, "Please, I want you."

If this were someone else in the park, it'd be a different story. Sleeping around with people in the park for Julian wasn't about emotions, it was about releasing a physical need, and when you can't keep a boyfriend sometimes you have to turn to your neighbors for some help. Everyone slept with everyone. But you're not them, this isn't just casual for Julian - he doesn't want to fuck it up. He shudders when your fingertips drag across his chest, tracing patterns and circles into his shirt as you rock against him, grinding your hips downwards to create more friction. You're a tease, you take your time, and he hates it but he loves it. Two large hands reach up to cup your breasts over your shirt gently, His hands trail downwards, over your abdomen, grabbing gently at your stomach for a short moment before finding themselves at the hem of your shirt.

"What are you waiting for?" You ask him between small breaths, still making rhytmic riding motions. It's a softly-asked question but also a plea for action. "Please, Julian. I've wanted this since the moment I saw you."

"God, fuck you're so fucking hot." It's like a flip switched in his head and he can't hold himself back anymore. Strong hands placed firmly on your hips flip you onto your back. Now he's on top of you, every part of him everywhere. His lips touch yours in a kiss, teeth pull at the skin of your neck, and tongue sooths the freshly bruised areas by rubbing itself on it in small circles. Like always, he can't help himself, and unlike recently, he stops wasting time.

Your shirt is the first thing to come off - Julian helps shimmy it off of you, throwing it to the side. The next thing to come off is your pajama pants, which he also tosses to the side after helping shimmy it off of you. He has half a mind to compliment the pretty color of your underwear and tell you it looks good on you, but he doesn't pay it any mind since it's about to come off anyways. His hands lift you up by the small of your back just long enough for him to unclasp your bra, letting you fall back down onto the bed. His hands hook underneath your knees, lifting them up and pushing your legs up so he can help slide your underwear easily off of your body. You're left naked under him while he remains fully clothed, lowering himself onto you before you can complain that he hasn't undressed yet.

His thumbs roll against your nipples, gently pinching and pulling at them before taking them into his mouth. Julian has never been the most gentle lover, especially when he gets excited, always eager to take matters into his own hands - but that's part of his appeal.

Kisses trail down your stomach, followed by him dragging his tongue along the skin, pushing your legs apart. He takes his time adorning your inner thighs with kisses, sucking on the skin and taking it between his teeth. He likes the way he makes you whimper and moan, it's intoxicating. But eventually the teasing becomes too much even for him, he's growing impatient, so he lends his tongue to you, circling it around your clit, strong nose pressed into sensitive skin.

Your body writhes as you feel a familiar pressure build in your abdomen, thighs tightening around his head so tight he thought he might suffocate. What a way to go that would be. Your fingers curl into his short hair, gripping and pulling at his hair while your toes curl. You whimper but that only encourages him to slowly push his thick index finger into you, followed by a second after you properly adjusted. His mouth and fingers work in tandem, his fingers curling and pressing inside of you in a come hither motion while his tongue continues to stroke your clit.

"Fuck, Julian, god, fuck -" But before you can climax, he's gone - pulling away. If Julian enjoys anything, it's edging. There's just something about bringing a woman to climax and leaving them nearly in tears that turns him on.

"You look disappointed." Julian catches a glimpse of your lopsided frown illuminated in the moonlight, "Don't worry, I'll take care of it." His shirt is pulled over his head, exposing his bare chest. When you touch the muscle, it's firm from years of consistent working-out. You trace a tattoos that look like they were done with a sewing needle and ink - probably stick and poke tattoos - but Julian frowns. He doesn't like those tattoos, he's not proud of them and he's not proud of his time spent in jail. But you only offer him an encouraging smile and place your palm over the tattoo before dragging your hand down to his belt, pulling at the buckle. Julian offers you a half-hearted smile. "Can't wait?"

Julian pushes your hand out of the way gently, taking his time to unfasten his belt and slowly pulling it through the loops. The belt is tossed to the side, along with his pants and underwear, leaving you both equals. Two hands hook themselves underneath your knees, placing your ankles on his shoulders while he uses his right hand to stroke his cock a bit, helping to harden himself up more. Sometimes the nerves just get to you.

"Holy fuck Julian you're big, you gotta be careful with that thing you're carrying a whole fucking concealed weapon -"

Julian chuckles a bit at the comment but presses a gentle kiss to your ankles. "I'll be careful with you if that's what you're trying to say."

The tip is pushed in slowly with great discomfort, pushing himself in. There's a stiff moment of silence as you let out a labored breath.

"You good?" he asks.

You nod, dragging your teeth over your bottom lip. Julian takes his thumb against your bottom lip, peeling it out from underneath your teeth. His thumb drags your bottom lip down, exposing the inside of it before pushing his thumb into your mouth. Your lips wrap around his thumb, letting your tongue slide against the skin, sucking on the appendage as he pulls out just a bit, repositioning himself before he thrusts back in. Your body pushes upwards with the motion, head pressing against the headboard slightly. His thumb is still pressed in your mouth while his free hand keeps hooked underneath your knee, pushing it backwards so he can angle himself better - each thrust pushing itself deeper inside of you. Sweat coats his chest and runs down the side of his face, abdomen flexing the closer he gets to coming, but he restrains himself - wanting to ride it out for as long as he could.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

"Oh, God, Julian -"

"Fuck, (name)."

"Julian -"

"(Name), (Name), (Name)."

"I heard you did a real good job of running that girl out of the trailer park last night, Julian."

"Hey, Barbara, why don't you fuck off?"

#julian tpb #tpb julian #tpb ricky #trailer park boys #tpb #ricky lafeur #julian x reader #julian x reader tpb #tpb bubbles #tpb ricky and julian #ricky tpb #julian x you tpb #trailer park boys reader insert #tpb reader insert

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lacunafiction · 2 years

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Progress Update: 9 August 2022

I hope you’re doing well! Hello to new and old readers. 💚

I somewhat recently shared the news about Book One being finished and submitted to Hosted Games. 🥳 You can find the submission news and a link to the overhauled demo: HERE.

Seeing your enthusiasm and excitement about returning to Fernweh means so much to me! I’m going to address some asks I’ve been getting so that you all might see the answers. :D

>Any news about a release date? When can I get my hands on TFS: Book One?

One anon just sent in: ‘*grabby hands*’, which is relatable. I’m like that too! Hosted Games has a queue for their publications with tentative release dates. I will be sure to let you all know when I hear where TFS: Book One might fall on this list after HG staff approve it and slate it for a date.

>What platforms will your book be on? I’m hoping for a Steam release!

Same! :D I’d like to reach PC players. Steam release is at the discretion of COG, so it’s not something I can politely request, though I do hope for it. Based on what I have seen in the past, I strongly feel that TFS: Book One will be out on Steam given its length (600,000 words in total) and the overall plot of the story, but we will have to keep our fingers crossed about it.

It should be available on the: COG website, iTunes App Store, Google Play Store, Amazon Appstore for Android, and possibly Steam.

> Book Two demo when? 👀

Lol, I’m 95% sure you’re kidding with me. XD There will be a Book Two demo, but I can tease and say it will be very spoilery as soon as you start the first page… I’ll need to wait for Book One to release so both new and old readers have some time to find and read it. It may depend on how far I am with my outline to try and stagger content for you to enjoy during Book Two’s wait.

- - -

> Here is what I have been working on:

- I have been working on finalizing some assets for Book One! I’m not sure how curious some of you might be about the process, but there are things beyond the chapters required by COG.

- I tend to think of it in three parts: the game files, the textual assets, and then the art assets. I might get more into these in future updates, since I don’t want to ramble too much in this one.

- The short and sweet news is that the parts are done; the tag lines, synopsis, tags, logo, etc.

- - -

> Here is what I will be working on:

- Book Two, my beloved! 🥰

- I have already started the base coding for the second book. I’m working on wrapping up the different levels of recaps since some players might want something condensed, while others may want a more detailed experience. (Eventually, you all should be able to import your Returning Visitor from Book One.) I will move forward with filling my outline; I’m thrilled to continue writing.

Thank you all for your support and patience with me! 💚

#interactive fiction #fernweh saga #weekly updates #(it's a progress update; not a weekly one. I post them whenever but that is my old tag; etc.)#who do queue think you are?#yes... yes i did change the picture for this because i found a pretty one with stars. Snakey is still canonically ebony though.XD

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mandomover · 8 months

Text

The Rookie

Chapter Twentyone - The Fall

A raid goes wrong and Carrillo is held responsible. Javi’s outspoken words shock you.

Warnings: swearing and smoking

Words: 2350

Next | Masterlist

Gaviria is getting antsy about negotiations with Escobar. He says he won’t negotiate, but word has come down the grapevine that former president Turbay, is pulling all political and financial support while Escobar has his daughter, and Gaviria, so new to his role, can’t risk losing any help he has.

So negotiations are ramping up between the government and Escobar yet you still wait like a sitting duck in the middle. Gaviria has given the CIA fucks the right to work again, allowing their surveillance planes to roam the skies, but you still don’t have full jurisdiction.

With a few coffee runs and a lot of flirting, the CIA agents have allowed you to listen in on their findings, meaning you aren’t all sitting bored in the office; Javi plotting maps while you take notes for what the team overhear. Murphy is due to return tomorrow, finishing off his paternity leave with Connie and Olivia and you had hoped you would have made some headway for him to return to.

Right now, you are sitting in the CIA’s office, a darker, smokier, and sweatier office than you thought possible, as they track and plan to support the search bloc on their attempt to find Diana and the other hostages Escobar took a few days ago.

This is Gaviria’s last hope before really having to succumb to pressure and negotiate with Escobar and while you do feel sorry for Gaviria in some manner, you are excited at the prospect of being here in case they free the hostages and get Escobar in the same breath, even if it kills you that it could be the CIA and not the DEA.

The room is quiet, the steady hum and buzz from the machines whirring while the staff sit at the control panels with their headphones and maps, ready for action. You and Javi are perched on a desk by the door, fresh coffee on hand from a run you did to the cafeteria ten minutes ago, giving you an extra buzz on top of the palpable excitement coursing through your veins at the prospect of this mission succeeding.

Javi is chain smoking, offering you one every few minutes when he lights a new one but you decline each time, too nervous to smoke right now.

“Ok, I have the coordinates locked, Gorilla was heard here not ten minutes ago so we’ll try there first,” Agent Moreno says into his headpiece, communicating with the search bloc. You are holding a walkie tuned to the same channel as the CIA so you can hear both sides while they speak, balancing an elbow on your hip to hold it close enough to both yours and Javi’s ears so you don't disturb the agents at work.

“Copy, we’re moving in now,” Carrillo’s crackly voice sounds over the walkie. “I’ll confirm when in position.”

You breath a sigh when the line cuts off, impatient and wishing you were out there to see what was happening instead of being stuck in here being babysat.

You sip at your coffee, wishing it were something stronger, quiet murmurs and whispers throughout the office while the agents wait to hear that the search bloc are ready to move in. Javi nudges you and you look up at him, deep brown eyes looking into yours.

“This isn’t forever you know. We’re the last people Gaviria wants to think about while all this is going on. But he’s getting cornered, so once this mission is cleared, he’ll tell us we’re good to go back to doing what we do best and stopping Escobar.”

“I hope so,” you murmur, “I’m not cut out for coffee runs and begging for scraps.”

“I can tell,” he smirks, taking a sip from your coffee and handing it back to you.

“In position. We’re moving in on three. Over,” Carrillo squawks, and you inhale sharply, gripping Javi’s arm tightly, waiting for the walkie to crackle again with another update. The agents look around from their positions at each other, also nervously waiting for their coordinates to be deemed useful in the fight against Escobar and hear that Diana and the other hostages have been secured safely.

Minutes pass slowly, everyone waiting with bated breath for something to happen and the channel be switched over and Carrillo give a progress report but no news is good news you guess. Waiting this long at least means they’ve found something rather than an empty building. You eye the seconds hand on the clock on the wall tick agonizingly slowly and you will for something, anything, to happen when the channel crackles and static sounds. You pierce Javi’s arm in a death like grip but he says nothing, even if you are squeezing too tight while you stare at the walkie.

“Bad news guys,” Carrillo says gravely. “Ms Turbay was shot in pursuit. One of eleven casualties. Ten of Escobar’s men.”

“Fuck!” Moreno hisses, yanking the headset off his head and throwing it at the console. He puts his head in his hands and you look at Javi, eyes forlorn as he returns the look with equal measure, letting go of his arm and picking your now cold coffee back up from the table instead, switching the walkie off and setting it into its base beside Moreno. You clap him on the shoulder as you pass and he rises from his chair, muttering “I’ll go tell Noonan.”

You raise a brow at Javi who grimaces and nods towards the door, signaling your time here is done.

As you cross the office space to grab your things from your desk, your heart plummets in your chest, thinking about what this could mean now. Surely Gaviria will have no choice but to negotiate with Escobar, even if his demands are laughable. While Escobar would technically hand himself in, it would mean all your work and efforts to capture Escobar would be null and void, especially if Gaviria gave in to the ridiculous demand to abolish extradition. But what choice did he have? What choice did you have? Keep on fighting and hoping that you would really get Escobar and hit him where it hurt. If he handed himself in it would be a lesser sentence for a bogus crime and he would be back on the streets building his empire even more than before in no time. But you had to have hope.

With the return of Murphy came the news that Gaviria had held crisis talks through the night and was willing to transparently negotiate with Escobar in hopes that a deal could be met meaning he would hand himself in. It was a huge blow to your efforts, especially now Gaviria had resided to give you control back; what good would it do now there was no one to capture?

Carrillo was also in trouble for his actions during the raid. While it was entirely accidental shooting Diana Turbay, he still had to be held accountable for his actions and drastic choices. You watched him march through the office on his way to the presidential office and you wished him well in his meeting but he hadn’t returned yet and that was nearly four hours ago. You had mooched through the building, feigning a need for fresh air and more coffee, but you were hoping to run into Carrillo. Or anyone who could give you information as to what the fuck was going on. As you took the stairs up to your floor after another visit to the cafeteria for nothing in particular, you heard your name being called from behind you and stopped still, whirling around to greet Carrillo, his face impassive.

“Gather the gringos and meet me in my office in five,” he nods curtly at you, before sidestepping you and taking the stairs two at a time. You exhale, letting out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding and race up the stairs to go and grab Javi and Murphy.

Four minutes later you’re in front of Carrillo’s desk, on the edge of your seat waiting for Carrillo’s report back.

“Gaviria is in talks with Escobar. He’s accepting the negotiations.”

“Maldito hijo de puta,” Javi growls.

“He has to put forward the motion against extradition to the states and then Escobar will be taken to La Catedral which he has been building this whole time in the mountains. He knew things would end up here.”

“So what are the terms?” you ask, ignoring Javi who has jumped up from his seat and is pacing back and forward behind you, angrily hissing Spanish curse words under his breath.

“Extradition abolished for one,” Carrillo counts off on his fingers. “No police within three kilometers of the prison he himself has built, his own guards and men patrol it, and he goes down for only one drug trafficking charge.”

“That’s absurd,” Murphy shouts.

Carrillo holds his hands up in defeat, as if he’s accepted the ridiculous demands outlining the demise of Escobar. In fact, he’s relatively calm considering this is his life’s mission to sink Escobar and the pure hate and anger you have seen spill from this man for less.

“What about you?” you ask calculatedly, squinting at him.

He purses his lips and doesn’t answer, looking at the photo of him and his wife on his desk instead, crossing his arms across his chest.

“I am no more. I am to move to Spain.”

All three of you spit insults about Gaviria’s choice, disgust at Carrillo’s dismissal and annoyance at his reckoning, but Carrillo looks at you with a soft smile, as though he truly has accepted his fate.

“The search bloc is no more but promise me you will continue to do surveillance and track intel. You can still get him.”

You were stunned into silence. Not only is Carrillo going but the police unit was disbanding entirely? You can’t fathom the stupidity at the negotiations in the first place, but to actually hear the demands expected? Ludicrous.

“I have two weeks before I’m done. Enough time to tie up some loose ends. But no big raids.”

“That’s shit. What are we all supposed to do now?” Javi asks, and it makes you think of a child, looking around for a responsible adult in the room to give you guidance.

“You’ll be fine. You have your team and you’ll look out for each other. You’ve shown time and time again how you have each other’s backs and you make a great squad.”

Your eyes sparkle, the ever-there tears threatening to pour out. You look at Murphy and Javi proudly and they grin back at you, albeit Javi’s grin is forced, obviously thinking about the loss of Carrillo.

“I just wish your example would bleed into my men, I can’t promise they’ll behave.”

Carrillo turns to look out the window and you move beside him, setting a hand on his shoulder.

“What do you mean?”

“These men are here because of Escobar.”

“I mean, we all are, we-”

“They’re here because of what Escobar has done to them. Here because Escobar or his men have killed their mothers, brothers, sisters, fathers. They’re here for vengeance and I’m not going to be able to stop them. Nor should I.”

You shiver and Carrillo turns to look at you, his face half in shadow as he looks at you, and he looks menacing. It’s like a threat. Don’t get in their way because they’re going to stop at nothing to get Escobar.

As if Carrillo can read your mind, he squeezes your arms and steals your focus, as if he’s looking into your soul.

“Have you got what it takes when it comes down to it Rookie? My men will stop at nothing. Is there a line you won’t cross?”

“Na, she’s in it all the way. She’ll do whatever it takes,” answers Javi for you, sneaking up behind you and clapping you on the shoulder, spreading both heat and ice through you.

Your mouth drops open, but no words come out.

What can you say? There’s always lines you have to cross in this job but Javi is answering like he knows you would cross every line imaginable. And that’s a scary prospect. The lines drawn out with the unimaginable. He thinks you’ll do whatever it takes no matter what. But you can’t commit and say you’ll do it all until you’re in that situation. You’re too surprised by the quick speed in which Javi answers on your behalf, you’re flummoxed for an example of something you would or wouldn’t do but surely there’s going to be a line you wouldn’t dream of crossing or even nearing someday? But Javi has taken that choice away from you, maybe without even meaning to. He might be singing your praises and offering confidence boosters by simulating this but he doesn’t know what he’s done by saying you’ll stop at nothing. You can only say that when you’ve done it. When you’ve experienced it. When you’ve truly stopped at nothing. And that scares you too. That Javi is capable of expressing these feelings as if he’s already crossed those lines. And that you don’t know scares you and you know it’ll take a lot of whiskey to prise that information out of him someday.

But for now, you just smile at Carrillo and say “you’ve been a great leader of the search bloc and I’ve enjoyed learning with you. This isn’t the end. Not by a long shot.”

You hold your hand out to shake, and he grasps it but doesn’t shake, “You have plenty in you that needs unlocked. It’s there. It’ll come when you need it,” he tells you with a wink, before pulling you into a crushing hug. Just as you wrap your arms tightly around him, he gruffs into your ear, “look after these two. Stay alert. I believe in you, Rookie.”

And when you pull apart moments later, his eyes are boring into yours, almost pleading with you to heed his words.

A/N: this is shoddy work. I’m sorry 😂 I was originally happy with the chapter but as I read and reread it more I fell out of love with it and it stopped me writing the next bits. I know where I want to go (roughly) but not exactly how to get there, so I’m struggling a bit to come up with the bits in the middle. So thankyou to everyone who has stuck by me and continues to read this lil piece even when it doesn’t entirely make sense.

It’s also hard being motivated when you’ve just given birth so bare with me in that regard too 😂

I have another chapter ready to post and I’ll post it in the next few days 🙌🏼🙌🏼

Tags: @wildemaven @ellenmunn @iamskyereads @tantamount-treason @axshadows @rav3n-pascal22 @stevie75 @movievillainess721 @lulzbrokenbyfantasy @pringleswingleschips @anotherr-fine-mess @no-food-in-the-fridge @th-em-vibes @tanzthompson @seececerun @rosadotostado @shmikenobi @happycupcakeenthusiast @solarilou @insxghtt @tsunamistorm123 @angelicbitchv @bigbottboy @snaxx7 @greatdreamfireplaid @gingerupset @sl-ut @slatdown47 @ericalynne007 @mswarriorbabe80 @arctickissy @midnightlycan @fibrogirlie @ghostauthor01 @hanxnxnah @bts-7613 @eg-dr3amer3 @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

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headkiss · 2 years

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Hi! I love your writing and I would love if you could do a Steve x fem reader where she’s scared of heights?? Hurt/ Comfort?? Thank you <3

hiiii i hope you enjoy it!!! it’s 1.2k words of a fair date with steve and some fluffy reassurance <33 pls reblog if u enjoyed it would mean a lot !!!!

Steve Harrington was a sweet boy. He was kind and soft and absolutely nothing like he used to be. He grew and changed and learned.

And, he was dating you of all people.

The first date was a drive in movie in his BMW, the plot completely forgotten because the two of you couldn’t stop talking to each other. You had your first kiss with Steve that night. The second date was spent at Benny’s, a relaxed dinner full of giggles and stolen fries.

Your third date was tonight, right now, at the town fair.

The supposedly yearly fair hadn’t happened since the summer of 1985, when the mall burned down and everything went to shit. But, since then, things have gotten better. The town recovered and you reconnected with Steve.

You knew him in high school, sharing classes and sometimes notes. It never went further than polite small talk and ‘thank you’s, but he was kind to you, and you appreciated that.

When you walked into Family Video and spotted him behind the counter, you greeted him happily, catching up and ‘how are you’s turned into an hour long conversation. You left with the movie you went in for and yours and Steve’s first date planned.

Your feelings for him grew with every date, every kiss, every new thing learned. You were looking forward to tonight and so was Steve.

He drove you there, a greeting smile and a compliment of how pretty you looked. Letting you choose the music and reaching over to hold your hand for the drive.

The first thing you did was get cotton candy, Steve insisting on paying and swatting your hand away when you tried to beat him to it. He thanked the employee and grabbed the fluffy treat to hand it to you.

“M’lady.”

“Thank you, Steve. You didn’t have to pay.”

“Oh stop, it’s nothing.”

You ripped a piece off, a soft pink cloud melting in your mouth. It was as sweet as the kindling romance between you and Steve. As light as you felt around him, beaming and at ease because he really was incredible.

“Yummy. You want some?”

He turned to look at you as you walked, a soft smile gracing his features because he thought you were so cute, so pretty. Steve thinks turning things around in his life was necessary for the sole reason of being with you.

“Sure, sweetheart.”

You ripped another piece off and held it by his mouth, waiting for him to take it and giggling when he did, biting the tip of your finger teasingly before letting you drop your hand.

Steve never thought he’d be able to do anything fun on the Fourth of July. He never thought he’d be able to get his mind off of what happened a couple years ago, the things he saw. But here, with you, he was at ease.

He tugged on your hand and stopped you when the ferris wheel came into view, gasping with dramatic excitement and pulling you along with his hand squeezing yours.

“Ferris wheel! It’s a classic, you wanna go on?”

In all honesty, you did not want to go on. You had a fear of heights and it wasn’t something you really wanted Steve knowing because you felt embarrassed. It was ridiculous and you didn’t want him to see the shake in your hands or the shortness of your breath if you ended up at the top.

But, you wanted Steve to like you, and to you that meant you couldn’t show him fear.

“Okay. Yeah.”

“Great! The view’s so pretty up there. You’re prettier though.”

“Steve,” even the cheesy comments from him had you flustered with warm cheeks.

The two of you ended up in line for the ferris wheel and you were really trying to prepare yourself for it. It was tough when your heart was pounding and your hands wouldn’t stop fidgeting in front of you.

He noticed your demeanour change but he didn’t want to make you talk about something if you weren’t ready, so he tried his best to distract you. Steve took your hand in his again, feeling your sweaty palm but saying nothing because he didn’t care. He wanted to hold your hand so he would.

When you got to the front of the line, though, you couldn’t do it. You watched Steve climb into the seat first and then smile at you, waiting for you to follow. But, you really couldn’t get your feet to move.

“Sorry. I’m sorry,” you looked down at your feet as you walked away from the ferris wheel, ashamed and disappointed in yourself because you couldn’t get on a stupid ride.

You were walking away too quickly to see Steve get up from the seat as soon as you turned away, to see him push through the rest of the line to find you. He called your name when he saw your back profile, noting the way you seemed upset.

“Hey, hey. Sweetheart,” he caught your wrist in a light grip, turning you to face him and he swears he felt his heart twist when he saw your eyes teary, one falling down your cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s really stupid. I’m fine.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you cry. Talk to me.”

He was being so sweet it made you want to cry even more. Usually people would just brush you off, would laugh because it’s just a fucking ferris wheel but not Steve. Steve was different.

He grabbed your hand once more and led you to a space between two booths, private enough to let you be emotional and have a conversation about whatever was upsetting you.

You leaned against the side of the booth, your hands coming up to wipe harshly at your eyes and cheeks because you shouldn’t be crying. You were so embarrassed and you were sure Steve would think it was dumb once you told him the reason for your tears.

He pulled your hands away from your face to look at you, dropping them when he was sure you’d leave them out of the way. His hands then cupped your face, thumbs swiping your tears away. He was looking at you with so much concern, so much care it made you nervous.

“Talk to me, sweetheart. Please?”

“I’m really sorry for walking off. It’s just-” your sentence was broken up with a deep breath, trying your best to calm down enough to get your words out. “It’s just, I’m scared of heights and I thought I could do the ferris wheel but I couldn’t. I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you just say that at first? It’s okay, you have nothing to be sorry for.”

He was sincere with his words, delicate with his touch, and you knew he was being honest. You couldn’t believe he was there, reassuring you. Steve Harrington might be the best boy you’ve ever known.

“But you wanted to go on and-”

“None of that. There are plenty of other rides that are fun and close to the ground. Just breathe, I’m not upset with you.”

“You still wanna date me?”

“Are you kidding! Of course I do, sweetheart.”

He pecked your lips once, then your nose, your forehead. He had doting and care written all over every single thing he did and said.

“How do you feel about the carousel?”

“Good. I feel good about that.”

So, he grabbed your hand again and tugged you in that direction.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things #stranger things fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington requests #steve harrington one shot #stevie blurbs

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