#why DO MY GIFS ALWAYS LOOK SO FUCKING GRAINY

[pb-dot]

Film Friday: Grave Encounters

It's almost Halloween, and so I've decided to end this little miniseries of spooktacular movies with a very spooky one. The movie in question is probably my favorite english-language found feature film, missing out to [REC] only in the sheer intensity of pulse-pounding terror on display. It may not trigger your "there are Predators and they're going to GET me" sense as much, but Grave Encounters is no slouch either.

Grave Encounters is the title of an early attempt at the docu-style ghost hunting shows that came to rule low-cost TV in the lull between the reality tv of yesteryear and our current glut of D-list celebrity content shows. In the show, the ever-so slightly sleazy self-professed Ghost Spotter Lance Preston and his team of A/V professionals investigate and document haunted buildings. It's all fun and games, creepy and compelling if not a little cheesy until the sixth episode, where the team goes to investigate the Collingwood Psychiatric Hospital and they find what they've been looking for in the worst kind of abundance.

One cool thing about Grave Encounters is how it escalates the supernatural happenings. Starting from the mildly startling like a door slamming for no good reason and escalating steadily until living dead things with distorted faces are climbing all over the walls, corridors go on forever and less crucial characters being thrown around by invisible forces like Lord Vader is having a bad day. It's not hugely original stuff, but it is delivered earnestly and the buildup makes it really stick.

It helps, I suspect, that Grave Encounters doesn't feel the need to explain exactly what's going on. Is it one very powerful ghost that's fucking with our heroes? Is it a group effort? Has all the terrible things done in the name of health and social propriety just made the whole damn building evil? Was it always evil and that's why things got so fucked up in there? Is there any First Nations holy sites desecrated nearby? Who's to say. Grave Encounters definitely won't, because it understands that the thing that is clear on the emotional or instinctual level but not on the thinking and comprehending level easily is the most terrifying. No idea what's going on here, but it is Dangerous and Scary and you should get the fuck out.

In that regard, Grave Encounters feels very indie to me. The way it sets up horror elements that clearly have some governing rules that we are not privy to remind me of many a horror podcast or grainy youtube short film series, and the fact that the movie has the courage to stick with its convictions and end on a high note also feels invigorating.

Now, Grave Encounters isn't a movie I come back to a lot because frankly it's not really all that deep, but as far as I'm concerned, not every movie needs to have a lot of thought going on behind the scenes. Some times you just need to see man peering into the darkness for answer, or pretending to do so for money and/or clout, and whatever they see in there to fucking get them, and for that kind of experience, you can't go much better than Grave Encounters.

#film friday #grave encounters #horror

[neonlights92]

Night Changes: PART ONE

Jeon Jungkook has spent the last twenty years alone.  Single.  Solo. 

And that’s just the way he likes it.  That is, until he meets the supposed love of his life.  Suddenly he’s falling over himself at the chance of a real relationship with someone.

The only thing getting in his way? You.

genre: fuckboy!jungkookie, college!jungkookie, romcom, e2l (kinda)

A/N: my attempt at a college kookie story? enjooooy

--

Perhaps it is the universe telling him to stop drinking. 

Jeon Jungkook really needs to start listening to the universe, and stop listening to - well to put it bluntly - his penis. 

When he wakes up in another stranger’s bed, with a splitting headache, and lipstick marks scattered across his chest, he reckons he should start making better life choices. 

The young woman sharing his bed - a girl from the party last night, with legs that go on for miles - rolls over and blinks her eyes open sleepily.  She smiles at him.

“Hi Jungkook.” 

He racks his brain for her name.  Jisoo… Jennie… Lisa… Rose? 

He feels bad - he really really does - but what can he do?  He was seven tequilas in, when Taehyung convinced him that taking her home would be a good idea. 

“Hi…. You.”  He finishes lamely, smiling sheepishly. 

She blinks again, this time a little more furious.  Her eyes narrow after a moment. 

“You don’t remember my name, do you?”  She purses her stained lips, and Jungkook really does feel awful.

Or maybe that’s just the hangover. 

“I uh - maybe.  It’s.. Last night’s a little bit grainy for me, to be honest.”

She seems unimpressed, arching a well-groomed brow, “You’re in most of my classes at college, Jeon Jungkook.”

And really that’s when he feels like a complete asshole. 

“Shit.  I’m sorry,” He tries to place her - he tries so fucking hard - but he knows he doesn’t recognise her, and a worm of guilt starts niggling in the pit of his stomach.

She rolls her eyes and sits up, pressing a hand against her forehead and clicking her tongue, “Whatever.  Just get out.  Jerk.” 

Jungkook feels bad.  Seriously, he does. 

But he can’t help but share her sentiment.  

He scrambles out of bed, fishing around her bedroom floor for the jeans he so carelessly threw off, and the white shirt he’s sure is stained with something he’ll never be able to get rid of.  He stumbles into the clothing and turns back towards the nameless woman glaring at him from underneath the covers.

“Do you hate me?”

She rolls her eyes, “Get out of my house, asshole.” He winces.  He knows he deserves that.

“See you soon?” She shakes her head, and tugs a hand through her unruly hair, “Hopefully not.” Jungkook bolts out of there like his life depends on it but just as he pulls the front door open, somebody else blocks his way.  And suddenly everything in the world shifts, and he feels as though his heart has just split open right down the middle. 

Because standing in front of him, holding two bags of groceries, is an absolute angel.  

Jungkook thinks - no he’s certain - she’s the most beautiful woman he’s seen in his entire life, and now he understands the songs, and the sonnets and the plays.  This is what love at first sight is.

It has to be.

“Oh.”  She laughs a little, “Hi.” 

Jungkook’s eyes widen, “Hi.”

“You must be Y/N’s guest.” 

Y/N.  So that’s her name.

“Uh… Yeah.”

Her cheeks flush brightly, “I’m Soomi, Y/N’s roommate.” 

“Nice to meet you Y/N’s roommate.  I’m Jungkook.”

When she giggles, Jungkook feels like he’s ascended into another plane of existence.  

“Well it’s nice to meet you too.”  Her eyes lower to his haphazardly buttoned shirt, “Under the circumstances.” Jungkook feels stupid and wonderful all at the same time, and just as he’s about to do something crazy - like ask for her number, or ask her to marry him, even - somebody clears their throat from behind him.

In a moment, Jungkook remembers exactly where he is.  His heart drops.

Shit.

Y/N.

“I see you’ve met the asshole I slept with last night,” Y/N raises a brow and clicks her tongue, “You were just on your way out, Jungkook, weren’t you?”

“I… Uh…  Yeah.  On my way out.” Jungkook knows he has no right to feel dejected - after all he was the one who couldn’t remember Y/N’s name in the first place.  But he’s sure Soomi might very well be the love of his life, and he can’t possibly just walk out like this, can he? But when he turns to face Soomi he notices she’s already stepped out of the way for him… And there’s really nothing more he can do.  

“Well uh… It was nice to meet you Soomi,” He moves into the hallway and turns to give Y/N a half smile, “See you in class.”

“Like I said.”  Y/N pulls a face, “Hopefully not.”

Soomi giggles again and he feels like he’s been shot straight through the heart, “Bye Jungkook!”

The door slams shut in his face, and the moment Jungkook is alone he notices how quickly his heart is racing.  Oh god.

He’s in love. 

He has to be.

//

“Jungkook.  You’re being ridiculous.”  Jungkook’s roommate Namjoon rolls his dark eyes, “She is not the “love of your life.”  Stop being so dramatic, you sound like Jin.” Jungkook feels like his heart is about to burst.  It’s been less than three hours since he met Soomi and all he can think about is the curve of her smile.

“No.  I’m serious, Namjoon.  C’mon, when have you ever known me to feel this way about a girl?”

Namjoon sets his mug of coffee to one side and clicks his tongue, “Never.  I’ve never known you to feel this way about a girl.  Which only further proves my point - you’re being ridiculous.”

“You’re just made of ice,” He comments bitterly, “I’m serious Namjoon.  I’m in love.”

“Listen Jungkook you know I usually love to disagree with Namjoon,” This comes from Jungkook’s other roommate Taehyung who is slung across the couch lazily, “But I’ve got to say… This time he’s got a point.  You sound like a crazy person.”

“If you saw her you’d know exactly what I mean.” 

Namjoon rolls his eyes so hard Jungkook is surprised he doesn’t lose one to the back of his skull.

“It’s a girl Jungkook.  A girl you met for all of twenty seconds.” “She was an angel.”

Taehyung giggles, “You’ve really got it bad huh?” “My heart hasn’t stopped pounding since I left her.”  Jungkook feels himself deflate slightly, “I need to see her again.” “And how are you going to do that?”  Taehyung raises a dark brow, “Surely you don’t have any classes with her, or you would’ve seen her by now.”

“No but… I have classes with Y/N.”  Jungkook knows it’s a dumb suggestion.  

But he can’t help it.  He needs to see Soomi again. 

“Y/N as in the girl who you slept with and who’s name you couldn’t remember?”  Namjoon scoffs, “Even you can’t be dumb enough to think she’d help you out of the goodness of her heart.”

“No… Maybe not out of the goodness of her heart.”  Jungkook agrees, carding a hand through his cherry red locks, “But I can figure out something she wants.  Y’know… Mutually beneficial.”

“I hope you’re not talking about your penis,” Taehyung pulls a face. 

“Have you not been listening for the past hour Taehyung?  I am in love with Soomi - I’m not about to sleep with her roommate...Again.  I’m a one woman man.”

Namjoon pushes himself to his feet, “Your only hope is that she’s in love with somebody else.  Somebody you could potentially help her seduce.”

Jungkook stands too, “That’s brilliant.” “What about Hoseok?” Taehyung cocks his head to the side, “Everybody’s in love with Hoseok.”

“Do not drag Hoseok into this Jungkook.”  Namjoon gives his friend a pointed look, “I’m serious.  He’s still heartbroken over Alexa.”

“Alexis,” Taehyung corrects, “Why can’t you ever bother to get the names of our girlfriends right?”

As Namjoon and Taehyung argue over Namjoon’s inability to remember names correctly, Jungkook starts thinking of all the ways he can convince Y/N to help him with Soomi.

It’ll be a piece of cake.

Or so he hopes.

//

Monday morning rolls around and Jungkook spends practically every minute from the moment he leaves his dorm scouring the campus for Y/N.  She isn’t in his first class of the day - or even the second.  By his third class of the day he starts to wonder if maybe she’d confused him with someone else.

Maybe there’s another Jeon Jungkook on campus who sleeps with attractive women and forgets their name in the morning.  Somebody else is stealing his game.

But then - like a vision from heaven - she walks into his political science class as if she isn’t the key to all his happiness. Her eyes flit across the lecture room and when they land on Jungkook she glares.  He wants to sink back against himself but he refuses - instead he smiles widely and gestures for her to sit in the empty seat beside him.

She shakes her head as if he’s crazy (and to be honest, he might be) and instead moves towards the very back, sliding into a seat all on her own. 

Jungkook grunts.  He can’t really blame her. 

Still.  Does she really have to make things so difficult?

He grabs his books and shuffles over to where Y/N is sat, engrossed by something on her phone.  When he looks closer he realises it's one of those pimple popping compilations on Youtube.

Gross.

Jungkook clears his throat and when she looks up her expression morphs from surprise into annoyance.

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting beside my new friend,” He grins wider, “Y/N.”

Her eyes narrow into slits, “What do you want?”

“To make amends,” Jungkook answers immediately, “I kind of feel like an asshole.” “You should.”  She gives him another look of annoyance, “But I’m also not stupid.  You’ve got the hots for Soomi, haven’t you?”

Jungkook feels his stomach drop.  Is he that obvious?

“Everyone has the hots for Soomi,” Y/N waves her hand noncommittally and gives him a once over, “Though not everyone has slept with her roommate.”

Jungkook winces.  It’s clear Y/N despises him.

“Would it help if I said I was sorry?”

“For forgetting my name or for giving me the worst head of my life?” The insult sears him.  Jungkook may be a little bit of a lady’s man but he’s always been determined to please his lovers.  He wishes he could remember any part of their tryst (to prove her wrong, more than anything) but once again he draws a blank.

“I can make it up to you.” She raises a brow, “I highly doubt that.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to argue with her - before Y/N’s attention is stolen by the figure that has just walked through the double doors of their lecture room.  Jungkook follows her gaze and smirks when he realises who she’s staring at.

“So you have the hots for Park Jimin then?”

Y/N’s eyes snap up to meet his and she seems flustered, “What?”

“You just looked at him like he rearranged the stars to spell your name,” Jungkook’s smirk widens, “You like him.”

Y/N looks ready to smack him across the face.  

“Shut up.”

“I’m not wrong though, am I?” When her eyebrows dip into a scowl, Jungkook knows he’s won this battle.  He leans towards her, conspiratorially. 

“I know Jimin well.”

That’s kind of a bold statement (and kind of a lie.)  Jungkook knows of Jimin.  He’s on the same dance team as Taehyung and Hoseok - two of Jungkook’s closest friends.  That’s enough of an in, isn’t it?

“No you don’t.”  She mutters with a roll of her eyes, “I can see where you’re going with this.”

“No seriously.  He’s best friends with Kim Taehyung,” Again a slight overstatement, but Jungkook doesn’t correct himself, “And Taehyung is like my brother.  We grew up together.”

“So what?  You help me out with Jimin and I have to do the same for Soomi?”  She scoffs, “Soomi and I are best friends.  I don’t want to lie to her.” “It wouldn’t be lying.”  Jungkook’s voice pinches a little, “It’s just helping fate along.” “Fate?”  Y/N’s expression morphs into one of disbelief, “Oh my god.  You really do have the hots for her.” “If cupid himself descended to earth and shot me in the ass with an arrow, I’d feel exactly the same for her.  Seriously.”

Y/N seems to contemplate the suggestion.  Her eyes move to meet the back of Jimin’s head - where he’s sat in the front row - and she sighs heavily.  Jungkook tries to read her face. 

Is she softening up to the idea?

“Let’s say I agreed to help you.”  Her voice is flat, “How can I be sure Soomi won’t just be another notch on your bedpost?”

Jungkook feels his chest constrict, “I resent that.  Just because I have more experience than others doesn’t mean I’m an asshole.  I don’t pursue women with the intentions of fucking them over.”

He won’t admit it but that assumption kind of pisses him off.  

When Y/N is quiet a moment longer, Jungkook sighs and tugs a hand through his hair. 

“If I do fuck her over…. Which I won’t.  I give you full permission to start a rumour that my penis is the size of a cocktail sausage.  I won’t even deny it.”

Y/N’s eyes widen and Jungkook notices (but doesn’t comment on) a red flush to her neck.

“Alright.  Fine.  I’ll help you out with Soomi, if you help me out with Jimin.”

Jungkook has to force himself not to punch the air in triumph.  Instead he grins - nice and wide - and nudges Y/N playfully, “I think this is the start of a very beautiful friendship.”

She groans.

“I’m already regretting this.”

//

Jungkook sends Y/N a text message the next morning, bright and early.  He doesn’t expect a response from her - he assumes she’s more of a night owl than an early bird - but then his phone pings in response and he has to say he’s a little surprised.

Jungkook: good mornin’ y/n… this is cupid calling 

Y/N: y’know..  I knew giving you my number was a bad idea 

Jungkook: oh c’mon don’t be like that, now that we’re friends you should definitely start warming up to me

Her reply takes a little longer but Jungkook isn’t worried.  Despite what she feels towards him, Y/N thinks her only way to Jimin’s heart is through Jungkook.  So she’ll just have to put up with it.

Y/N: I just puked in my mouth at the thought of warming up anywhere close to you.  Gross

Jungkook smiles at her response.

Jungkook: I think you like me more than you're willing to admit.  Anyway we need to get on with our…. Agreement.  Want to come round this evening to discuss arrangements?  I’ll even throw in some pizza and beer.

Y/N: I only like hawaiian.

Jungkook: Disgusting.  You and Namjoon will get on fantastically then.  Alright hawaiian it is. 

He sends her his address and when she replies with the puking emoji he laughs despite himself.

Maybe she’s not all that bad.

//

“Pineapple on pizza is a cardinal sin.” Y/N glares at Jungkook as she tucks into her third slice, “Why are you hating?”

“I just - I don’t get it.”

Y/N had arrived at his apartment earlier that evening with a six pack of beer in what Jungkook had assumed was a begrudging olive branch.  The two of them had spent the last hour discussing the delicate intricacies of mario kart, and Jungkook had found himself enjoying her company more and more.

He hated to admit it but she was kind of cool.

Only kind of, though.

“You don’t get it because your taste buds are subpar,” She moves her mouth into a small smile and Jungkook almost gasps at the gesture, “Hawaiian is the only acceptable way to eat pizza.  Period.”

“Y’know you look much cuter when you smile,” He quips, watching as she chokes on the last piece of crust, “You should do it more often.” Her eyes narrow into a glare, “I smile at people who bother to remember my name.”

“I thought you’d forgiven me for that.  I’m helping you out with Jimin aren’t I?”

Y/N laughs - and Jungkook is surprised at the warmth in her tone, “At a price.  Or are you forgetting I’m setting you up with Soomi?”

“Which reminds me,” He scoots closer towards her, pushing the pizza box out of the way, “What’s our plan of action?” Y/N seems to pause for a moment, her eyes flicking nervously across his face as she tucks some of her hair behind her ear.  Jungkook doesn’t comment on her sudden shift in behaviour, but he notices it. 

Man.  Girls are weird.

“I thought maybe… You could come over one night, to watch a movie or whatever.  And you could ask Taehyung and Jimin to join, too.”

Jungkook nods emphatically, “That’s a good plan.  Something intimate to really plant those seeds of love.”

Y/N laughs again and he notices the crinkles at the sides of her eyes when she does so.  Weird.  Why hasn’t he seen those before?  Admittedly… It’s kind of adorable.

“Plant those seeds of love,” She pulls a face, “You really are a wordsmith, Jeon Jungkook.” 

“Is it any wonder when my major is English lit?”

“Me too,” She cocks her head to one side, hair falling out from behind her ears, “Makes sense why you’re in most of my classes.”

Jungkook feels kind of (very) guilty as memories of their morning together are brought back.

“I really do feel like shit for not remembering you.”  He rubs the back of his neck in that universal boy sign for awkwardness, and clicks his tongue, “I wish I had.”

She shrugs, her eyes darkening a moment as she looks away, “It’s alright.  I’m kind of used to it to be honest.  Always been more of a... Background kind of person.” 

Jungkook clucks, like a mother hen disappointed at her chicks, “Hey don’t say that about yourself.”

When Y/N moves her eyes to meet with his own again, Jungkook notices she doesn’t seem angry or bitter.   Just resigned.

“But it’s true,” She licks her bottom lip and smiles almost sadly, “Soomi’s always been the centre of attention everywhere we go.  And I’ve known her… Forever, really.  So it makes sense.  Someone always has to take the back seat.  I don’t mind it.  Suits me just fine.”

Now Jungkook really feels like an asshole.  When she was prickly, it was easy to shove everything under the carpet, and pretend that not knowing her name wasn’t sort of horrible.

But now she was being nice, it made everything a hundred times worse.

“I’m sorry Y/N.  Really.”  

She meets his gaze again and smiles - this time a little lighter, “Don’t worry about it.  Now you know who I am… And you’ll never forget it.  Not least because I’m the love of your life’s best friend.”

Jungkook feels kind of awful right now, but he knows that apologising again will probably only annoy her.  He tucks his guilt somewhere into the back of his mind and smiles widely, trying to ease the mood.

“Right.  And I’m the person who is going to help you snag the man of your dreams!” 

She laughs at that, taking a final chug of her beer before setting the empty bottle to one side.

“Park Jimin here I come!”

“You’ve got a one way ticket to Bonetown and Jimin is flying first class!”

She laughs louder, this time snorting, “That makes no sense, but I’ll take it.”

They spend the rest of the evening hanging out in a way that feels strangely familiar, and it’s only when Y/N’s head begins to lull to one side that Jungkook realises it’s past three am.  And as he orders her an uber home, and insists she takes the final slice of pizza for the journey home, Jungkook realises that Y/N is more than just kind of cute.

She’s kind of great.

//

Later on that week, as Jungkook fills Namjoon and Taehyung in on his progress with Y/N, the former seems less than impressed.

“This is only going to end badly.”  Namjoon shakes his head, “Haven’t you ever seen a romantic comedy?  Shit like this only ends in tears.”

Jungkook takes a swig from his beer and rolls his eyes, “Have you ever tried to be positive a single day in your life Namjoon?  Y/N agreed to help me.  It’s progress.”

“But you dragged me into it,” Taehyung seems unimpressed, “And I told you me and Jimin aren’t even that close.”

“Okay so I might have embellished slightly….”

“Slightly?  You called us the best of friends,” Taehyung groans at his friend’s stupidity, “I’m not sure Jimin even knows what major I’m taking.”

“This is the most Jungkook problem of all time,” Namjoon guffaws at the situation, “How the hell are you going to sort this out.” “Tae - I just need you to convince Jimin to come on one date.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “I don’t know him that well, Kook.  What exactly am I supposed to say?” 

“I don’t know but you once convinced your mom those nudes of you that got leaked senior year of high school were actually for an art project,” Jungkook pleads with his friend, “I know  you can do this.” Taehyung laughs at the memory and pulls a face, “If he says no though, there’s not much else I can do.” “Fine.  But at least try.”

Jungkook knows that the universe is working in his favour.  It has to be.  The moment he laid eyes on Soomi he knew he’d never be happy again without her.

“Alright Kook I’ll try.  But I’m not making any promises.” Jungkook grins, “You’re the best.”

“I know I am,” He leans further back into the couch and grabs a slice of the pizza Namjoon ordered, surreptitiously picking off the pineapple, “Now what are you going to do about Y/N?” Jungkook raises a brow, “What do you mean?” “Well you described her as a she-demon,” Namjoon snorts, choking on some of his beer, “How exactly is that going to seduce Jimin?” “Remember everyone loves him,” Taehyung tacks on - less than helpfully - his smirk growing, “She’s going to have to get in line.” “Everyone does not love Jimin.”

Taehyung scoffs, “You’re kidding right?  I once watched him turn down three girls in one night.”

“Yeah.  This girl from my psych class says he’s still heart broken from his ex,” Namjoon seems to be enjoying Jungkook’s predicament a little too much, “Says he won’t even give anyone a chance.”

Jungkook refuses to let his friends’ pessimism get in the way of his elation.  He’s one step closer to Soomi, and if Jimin thinks he can be the one to stand in his way he’s got another thing coming.

“I’ll make it work.”  He answers with more confidence than he necessarily feels, “Besides, Y/N’s not that bad.  In certain lights she might even be considered kind of… Cute.  She’s just a little...brash.”

“Could her brashness towards you be due to the fact you forgot her name after an evening of vigorous love making?”  Taehyung gives his friend a knowing look, “I mean that would probably even hurt you Jungkook.  And you’re the master of not giving a fuck.”

“I apologised.”  He says it like that should fix everything, but in the depths of his heart Jungkook knows forgetting her name was kind of (really) shitty, “Besides.  If I really do set her up with Jimin and this all works out perfectly she’ll have a lot to thank me for.  Might even forgive me.”

Taehyung laughs and Namjoon pulls a face.

“We live in hope.” “That we do Joon.” Jungkook grins, “That we do.”

//

#bts #bangtan #jungkook #fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #imagine #jungkookxreader #smut #angst #fuckboy!jungkook #college!jungkook #e2l

[outlustings]

Hello! It’d be awesome if you wrote Jeremy Blaire (yes yes I know he’s a rat bastard but I love him nonetheless) inviting his (female) assistant/coworker that he’s lowkey catching feelings for into his office turning into (consensual) under-the-desk-blowjob? Bonus points for some kind of confessing feelings? Thank you so much!!!

(did i write a 3300 word porno about jeremy blaire? yes. yes i did. the grass has never looked as touchable as now.

also anon ik you said "lowkey crush" but fuck it. jeremy blaire is a nasty man who has Big Crush now. fuck you and i hope you have a great day because your taste in men is impeccable and i am jealous of your brain.

pretty long, nsfw below the cut prepare to cringe because nobody is socially adept in this fic)

Jeremy Blaire was a man who should have been, by all means, unwavering. No difficult corporate lunch, no nagging supervisor and no hard-ass scientist vested in blue plastic bags had ever made him waver. Not once. He was always cool and calm, even in a sticky situation, and Mount Massive provided a dozen sticky situations every week or so. So cool and calm that even he himself sometimes forgot he had human emotions.

So why, oh why, was he so messed up about some assistant?

It was probably the way she walked. Or talked. Something, really everything, about her had him absolutely fascinated. He usually didn’t care about his assistants’ looks, as long as they brewed strong coffee and didn’t annoy him. But somehow, somewhere his brain had managed to override his contempt for other humans and had made this woman an exception. It was driving him nuts.

He shouldn’t.

But there was something about her, maybe it was her confidence, kindness and wit. Rick said that it was her butt – an ass-istant, he’d called her once. Jeremy had never wanted to use his precious golf clubs for violence before that moment, eventually deciding against repositioning Rick’s jaw with his 3-iron. Wouldn’t look good on his resume.

But it was true, his attraction was definitely sexual.

On some evenings, Jeremy found himself in front of his computer with a glass of whiskey in one hand and his other hand palming himself through his pants, looking at low-resolution porn with faceless men in suits fucking women in pencil skirts and torn stockings. Just a grainy simulacrum of his fantasies. He tried to ignore the crackling, fake moans of the starlets, closing his eyes and imagining her ass bouncing on his lap, her moans, her face and her intoxicating scent, anything but the sad scene, the reality of his situation, that would confront him if he dared open his eyes again. After cumming, he’d bury his head in his pillow and squeeze his eyes shut and try to ignore the butterflies in his stomach, their wings smothered in black, viscous guilt. And the next day, he’d smile to her, ask her if she could take a look at some files or if she could be a dear and bring him a fresh cup of coffee. Pathetic.

But she’d smile back, and her smile and the sound of her laughter made everything better for a moment.

Jeremy’s index finger was on the soft rubbery button of the office phone, the receiver against his ear, he was once again lost in his thoughts. Most of all, lost in the kindling heat in his loins and how she could probably do something about it. He needed to see her. Just for a moment. Make up some excuse of picking up papers or something, make her bend down, take in an eyeful so he could maybe try to relax later this evening… Yeah, something like that. But mostly he just wanted to talk.

He pressed the page button and bit his lip. Electric rattles, then a beep. Then another one. He waited. Then she picked up.

“Sir?”

“Come to my office, I have something I want to discuss. You busy?” he added, sliding his free hand to his thigh to stop his leg from bouncing up and down.

“No, sir,” she replied, “I’ll be right there.”

“Good, thanks,” he cleared his throat as if to say something else but decided against it. How would he even begin to initiate… whatever he was trying to initiate?

Jeremy thrummed his fingers against his desk and adjusted his slacks, dug his hand into his pockets and leaned back in his chair, sighing. This was not going to go well. Whatever he was doing, he felt he should stop it before something terrible happened.

You could always fire her afterwards.

He shook his head. He wasn’t even going to entertain that thought.

After an agonizing two minutes, her office was close, she knocked gently on the door and pushed it open after hearing him say “come in”. She leaned in the door, the buzzing fluorescent light of the hallway framing her head in the crack of the door. Her face was pale, worried, her mouth hung slightly open. He had seen this face before. She thought she was in trouble. He smirked to himself.

“Yeah, come in, please, and sit down,” Jeremy gestured to the chair in front of his desk, leaning back in his own and watching her stumble into the room, her hands folded in front of her as she sat down, crossed her legs, and leaned back, still looking nervous.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” she said, almost apologetically.

“You’re not in trouble,” Jeremy said, propping his elbow on the armrest of his chair and leaning his face into his hand, his head tilted to the side, “Relax, I just wanted to talk.”

“Talk?” she furrowed her brows, “About what?”

This was about as far as he had thought his plan through to. He’d just have to wing it.

“I wanted to talk about you,” Jeremy gestured towards her, “I want to get to know you better – I mean,” he changed his position and leaned forwards in his chair, smiling to her, “I barely know you and you make my coffee every day. I trust you enough to not poison me, so I think it’s only fair that you trust me enough to tell me some things about yourself.”

She was quiet for a moment.

“What things?”

“Like what’s your favourite thing about working here,” he grinned, leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms, “How you take your coffee, are you proficient in Excel and if you’re single or not -…” he took a moment to savour her dumbfounded expression at his last words, “…- those kinds of things.”

“You ask all your employees these kinds of things?” she challenged sternly, almost coldly, betrayed by a blush creeping across the bridge of her nose.

“Only the pretty ones.”

She huffed.

“Thanks, but this is really inappropriate,” she crossed her own arms, mirroring him, and licked her lips. For a moment, he followed her tongue with his eyes and kept them on her lips. She apparently noticed and shifted in her chair. He smiled.

“Am I making you uncomfortable, miss?” he stroked his chin, eyeing her carefully.

“No!” she shook her head, laughing a bit.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“You really probably shouldn’t ask your employee if they’re single.”

“Ah,” he said, tapping his bottom lip, “But if my interest is purely unprofessional, would that be better?”

He waited, his heart beating a little too loud for his liking. She looked like she was going to either explode or melt into the carpet, her flushed face contorted in an expression that he found adorable. She was probably weighing what she was going to say next. Gave him more time to take in her expression.

“I’m single,” she finally breathed out, “There. Can I go?”

“You’re gonna leave it at that?” Jeremy clicked his tongue, “You don’t wanna go a bit further?”

She smiled.

“Mr. Blaire…”

“I asked you if you wanted to go further, and I’m not hearing an answer,” he rose from the chair, feeling a burning sensation settle in his stomach as he walked around his desk, his heart beating a thousand miles an hour as she jumped up from her chair to face him. His blue eyes fixed on hers, he took his chin in her hand. She didn’t resist in the slightest. Instead, she sighed and looked away, her cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink.

“I won’t do anything to you,” Jeremy leaned against her body, whispering into her ear, his lips touching the strands of hair around her temple, “…unless you say yes and please like a good girl.”

She lifted her eyes up at him, and without a word, her lips spread into a mischievous smile as her hands settled on the collar of his white shirt.

“You have no idea what you just did, Jeremy,” she chuckled, pulled him by the collar to her and pressed her lips onto his.

And every coherent thought in his head exploded in a brilliant show of colours as he kissed her back. He felt like his lips were on fire as her warm body pressed against his and the butterflies in his stomach melted into a white-hot mixture of desire and relief as he broke the kiss to look her in the eye.

“Show me what I did,” he licked his lips. She parted her lips and sighed a delicate yes.

His tongue dipped into her awaiting mouth, and he heard and actually felt her whine in his mouth. Hot flesh against hot flesh, slippery, but so delightful. It was obscene. Desperate. Absolutely filthy, Deepening the kiss, Jeremy pressed her face closer to his, holding her head by the back of her neck, pulling her flush against his chest. His other hand slid down to the curve of her spine, where it settled, holding her tight.

After what felt like an eternity, she pulled away slightly, their noses still brushing. She breathed heavily, her warm, sweet breath ghosting over his lips as she looked up into his eyes. The intensity of her gaze along with the pinkness of her cheeks made his heart skip a beat.

“This wasn’t supposed to go this far,” she whispered, sliding her hand from his neck to his cheek, stroking. Very softly.

“We can stop,” Jeremy mumbled, grinning, his eyes moving from her swollen lips to her heaving chest and all the way down to where her legs were tightly pressed against each side of his lower thigh.

“Don’t you dare stop,” she looked up at him and pressed a shaky kiss against the side of his jaw, her teeth grazing his skin.

Jeremy hummed in appreciation, a low, throaty groan spilling from his lips as she moved down to nip at the skin of his neck. He would for sure have her lip gloss on his collar. A wild thought of never washing this specific shirt again crossed his mind for a small moment.

He barked out a laugh as she covered his neck with heated kisses.

“You know,” he swallowed, “I’ve had my eyes on you for a while now.”

“Really?” she giggled, pulling away and locking eyes with him. He nodded, stroking her lower back, brushing against the softness of her ass. He moved his hips closer to hers, the fabric of the front of his slacks rustling softly against her abdomen.

“The things you do to me,” Jeremy whispered against her lips and caught her in another kiss, a short kiss, teasing, “It’s like you know exactly what I want.”

“You want me?”

He felt his cock stiffen, pressing against the fabric of his underwear, growing with need for her as he was engulfed in her scent and the warmth of her skin – every cell in his body was aching for her. Her hips bumped against his and she looked into his eyes as she deliberately ground her hips against the very top of his thighs.

“Fuck yes, I want you,” he growled against her ear, his hands sliding down to knead her buttocks, pulling her hips closer to his clothed cock. She gasped, grabbing the back of his neck for stability as he all but humped the front of her skirt.

“Mr. Bl-ah-aire,” she stuttered, “I – we…”

Jeremy pulled away from her, breathless, feeling his shamefully hard cock throb inside his slacks, begging for attention.

“Right now?” she grinned.

“We have a few minutes,” he swallowed thickly, hating himself.

“Will that be enough?” she quirked a brow.

“Make it enough,” he smirked.

  ×

“You’re such a mess,” she giggled, holding his shaft in her hands and gliding her fingers over the smooth and leaking expanse of the tip of his cock. He groaned, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking gently.

“You wanna get mouthy with me, missy?” he growled, partly out of frustration and partly to stifle a moan that threatened to spill from his lips as she continued her slow, teasing strokes. She giggled. The absolute nerve.

“Oh, no, sir,” she tilted her head and hummed, looking up at him through her long lashes, “Please don’t punish me, sir, I’m just joking,” she squared her jaw for a moment and opened her mouth slightly, spitting a glistening pearl of saliva onto the head of his cock and used her thumb to spread the wetness around before beginning faster strokes from the base to the head. Jeremy’s head was spinning.

She’s going to kill me with this.

“I’m going to fuck you raw over this desk and not give a shit about who comes in here if you continue on with your little games,” he emphasized his last words with another tug of her hair. She let out a shaky moan and his heart skipped a beat.

“I’m sorry, sir.”

“Good girl,” Jeremy breathed out and lifted his hips ever so slightly to nudge his cock towards her glossy lips. She understood it as an order and opened her mouth to take his twitching length inside her mouth. Jeremy groaned, throwing his head back, his eyes flickering to the door and then back to her pretty face between his legs. Ten minutes at most, and surely someone would be knocking on his door. Ten minutes was all he had.

His hand was still in her hair, but he loosened his grip as she swallowed him down further, emitting her own little sounds that made him feel like he was going to explode.

“Enjoying it, huh?” he gave a challenging smirk and stroked her hair, pushing her down, gently yet hastily, on his cock so that her nose brushed against his pubic hair and her eyes began to water, “You like getting your throat fucked by your boss? Naughty girl,” he licked his lips as she moaned, mouth full of him, at his words. He was going to win, one way or another.

Jeremy felt her shift on her knees, his dick still inside her mouth as she sucked. He looked down to see that she was grinding against her hand, which she had slipped underneath her skirt. He snickered at the sight, but his breath hitched as the tip of his cock pushed against her throat, going deeper than before. It was intoxicating, almost mind-numbing to watch her ministrations, both hands working in a mechanical, yet sensual rhythm of stroking him and rubbing against her own cunt, with her head bobbing on his length, wet sounds that mingled with the combined heavy breathing of the two of them, obscene little moans and slurps.

Jeremy couldn’t help but breathe sharply through his teeth and buck up into her mouth, his hips lifting off of his chair. She gagged and looked up at him, still obediently hollowing her cheeks around his cock and flicking her tongue against the underside of his shaft. Slowly, he began to fuck her mouth, gripping the armrests of his chair, his hips rutting into her face as he threw his head back and groaned, feeling her hands splay against his thighs.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” Jeremy breathed, feeling beads of sweat roll down his back as he fucked up into her mouth, savouring the little noises she made and the way that she looked, so adoringly up at him. Her eyes were large and wet with tears, her cheeks flushed, her lips stretched and swollen around him, glistening with saliva. Her hair was getting messy from her own sweat and the way he had gripped it earlier – but she was so beautiful. He felt a tightening in his abdomen and his hands shot to the top of her head again as he moaned.

It was too much. All of her was too much, in the best way possible, and she was too beautiful to be fucked like this, but she enjoyed it, and everything was suddenly feeling very floaty and she was in the centre of his universe right this very moment as he looked down on her and heard himself say something, maybe a warning, his throbbing cock twitching against the roof of her mouth as she swallowed him down, her mouth so tight and wet.

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he growled, gripping her hair and pushing her down, “Fuck, fuck, oh god,” he was so close. At his words, he felt her body stiffen against his, her sucking stopping for only a second, but it was a heartbeat too long. He didn’t care. He didn’t even register what he was saying or doing, only that she felt amazing and she was beautiful and kind and too good and so, so tight and wet…

And he came down her throat, screwing his eyes shut as he continued thrusting, riding out the waves of his orgasm, and she made a high-pitched, keening noise with his cock in her mouth, and he trembled. He felt his bitter cum coat the back of her throat in spurts and she swallowed it down, in sync with his stuttering thrusts as he moaned, loudly, eyes unseeing as she continued sucking and swallowing. She really is trying to kill me.

Everything in his world stopped for a moment. He tried to blink away the swimming colours etched into his eyesight. Then came a popping sound, and cool air against his hot, sensitive flesh. She had pulled off of him.

“Jesus…” he panted, looking down at her, feeling a pang of that brackish guilt in his stomach as she wiped saliva and cum away  from her chin with the back of her hand, “I got carried away,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, grunting as his cock twitched at the sight of her, so sweet, so vulnerable.

She smiled, something unreadable behind her eyes. He was too caught up in his aftershocks to really register anything but the blood rushing in his ears.

“It’s fine, Mr. Blaire,” she said and bit the inside of her cheek, chewing for a bit. It was almost like she wanted to say something. He smiled apologetically at her as he shoved himself back into his pants, admiring her composure. She really was too beautiful to be fucked like this.

She rose up on shaky legs and smoothed down her skirt, grabbing a Kleenex from the desk and wiping her fingers, one by one, turning her face away from him. Jeremy frowned.

“Something wrong?” he asked.

“You meant what you said?” she turned her body to him, a small smile on her slightly quivering lips as she leaned against the heavy oak of his desk, her hips close to his shoulder. He stared. For a while, his dumb, orgasm-scrambled brain tried to make sense of her question. Said what? Then, to his horror, he realized what she was talking about.

“Oh, uh-…” he muttered, moving his attention to his belt so that he would be even slightly able to hide his blushing face from her, “I mean… Sure,” he said, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible, clinking his belt shut, “You’re really good.”

He felt himself cringe a little, bracing for impact. Shit. Nothing but silence, then a slight laugh. But a tense one.

“Because I’m not about to -…” she trailed off, “...for like a promotion or something, I don’t want...”

“Oh, no, no!” he shook his head, eyes wide in horror, “No, not at all. That was not what I want, no, you deserve -…” he didn’t know what she deserved. Probably better than him, “You’re lovely,” he sighed, lowering his head.

He looked up. She was grinning ear to ear, her cheeks the same shade of deep red that he felt was also seared across his own face. Fucking Christ, this was hard. Yet, he felt his heart lighten at the sight of her smile.

“Have a drink with me tonight,” he blurted out.

“Sure.”

#outlast #outlast: whistleblower #outlast x reader #jeremy blaire #jeremy blaire x reader #not sfw #reader insert #female reader #i do NOT understand what compelled me to write this long of a THING but i GUESS i want to SUCK DICK and YEAH #also we write 2nd person pronouns here eat shit lol #wanted to try something different #outlast fanfiction

[pen-paper-and-ink]

Good Karma

Rowaelin Month- Day 5

“I accidentally hit you with my car” 

The first time someone told Aelin that they had seen her boyfriend with another girl, she didn’t think much of it.  He had girls that were friends, she trusted him, and she wasn’t the jealous type anyway. 

  The thing was, people continued to tell her that Chaol was seen out with other girls.  In the beginning he had good excuses.  That they were just friends, that she was his lab partner and they went out after a long day of studying.  Stupidly, Aelin believed him.

  That was until Aelin got a call from Lysandra. “Babe, I’m at the bar.” That much Aelin could tell.  It was hard to make out Lysandra’s voice over the thump of the bass and the myriad of other voices. “Chaol’s here with another girl, and they look... friendly.” There was some more slurred speech, and some mumbles that Aelin couldn’t make out, before the voicemail ended.

  With that, Aelin didn’t know what to think.  Should she confront her boyfriend?  Should she get more proof than a grainy voicemail left by a drunk Lysandra? Well it turns out she didn’t have to do either.  The girl Chaol was with came to her.

Apparently, intoxicated Lysandra had enough presence of mind to question the girl in the bar bathroom.  That was where Nesryn found out that Chaol had a girlfriend.  Nesryn was nice enough, and very pretty.  Aelin could definitely see why Chaol liked her.  

Nesryn confessed everything to a pissed Aelin.  It seemed Chaol had never mentioned to Nesryn that he had a girlfriend, and it was a nasty shock when she heard from Lysandra that the man she had been sleeping with for two weeks, was already taken.

  Nesryn apologized before leaving, Aelin reassuring her that it wasn’t her fault, as she exited Aelin’s dorm room.

  It was ten on a Friday morning, Aelin knew Chaol would be on campus until late into the afternoon.  On a mission, Aelin walked out of her dorm and drove to her ex-boyfriends apartment.

  When she first arrived, she thought about all sorts of things she could do to piss off the man who cheated on her.  Switch all his coffee with decaf? Unplug his fridge so all of his food spoiled? Steal his flat screen, which Aelin always loved more than him, anyway.

  In the end, she decided she wouldn’t do any of that.  She would gather her stuff and leave.  Just when she had placed the last of her belongings in her car, she got a call from the piece of shit himself.

  “What?” Aelin snapped, more harshly than he was probably expecting.  Besides, he wasn’t yet aware that Aelin knew he had been cheating on her.

“Hey…” He sounded hoarse.  “Can you pick me up from the hospital, somebody hit me with their car.” Aelin couldn’t help it, she laughed loudly.  This was the first piece of good news she heard all day.

  “I would say to ask your other girlfriend,” She said when she had finally calmed down from her laughing fit. “But I heard, she already broke up with you.” Aelin promptly hung up, before he could protest what she just said.

  Suddenly she was pissed again.  How dare he cheat on her, then ask her to pick him up from the hospital.  She drove back to campus through muscle memory alone, fury still clouding her mind.  She was almost to the dorm parking garage when she hit something. Shit.

  “What the fuck, Aelin?” Well, she hit someone and not something.  This day could not get any worse.

  Aelin put the car in park, and ran to the front of the car where a very annoyed Rowan Whitethorn was laying on the road.

  “Shit, Rowan. I’m so sorry.” She offers him a hand, which he takes, as she assesses him for injuries.  He seemed fine, if a little ruffled.  She may have taken a little extra time looking him up and down, she would be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy looking at him.  Rowan Whitehtorn was the hottest man she ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.  He stood at 6’4, had striking silver hair, piercing green eyes, and a dark tattoo that sprawled down his tanned arm in the old language. He was exactly Aelin’s type.

  “It’s fine.” He brushed her off, cringing as he got to his feet.  They had first met in history class two years prior.  They worked on a group project together and Aelin got to experience first hand how smart and funny Rowan was.  They collaborated well together, and he always put up with her teasing.

  It turns out they had some mutual friends, so she saw him on occasion.  It used to be a lot more frequent before she started dating Chaol, they used to be friends, now they were at most acquaintances.

  Aelin knew him well enough to know his pain threshold was out of this world. She had heard from multiple people that he walked on a broken leg for two days before getting it checked out when  he was a highschool football player.  So she knew that Rowan cringing meant that he was in a good deal of pain.

  “Get in,” Aelin said, slinging an arm around his waist as she helped him get into her car.  He was leaning into her, it was worse than she originally thought. “We’re going to the hospital.”

  She felt Rowan tense beside her. “Can we not go to the hospital?” He asked, his voice slightly strained.

  She gave him a once over before making the drive to the hospital.  “Why?” She asked, not taking her eyes from the road.

  “Um, I may have thought you purposely ran me over.” Aelin couldn’t help but look over at him now.  

“Why would I have done that?” Aelin asked exasperatedly, “And don’t you go thinking that that would get you out of going to the hospital.”

  He chuckled nervously.  “I may have hit your boyfriend with my car earlier today.” Aelin burst out laughing, this time a lot less bitterly than when Chaol had called to tell her he was injured.  This was near joyous full bodied laughing, tears began to stream down her face, she was laughing so hard.

  “Aelin? Aelin.” Rowan called cautiously.  He was treating her like someone who was facing the gallows, it now made sense why he was unsure of her earlier. “Are you okay?”

“More than okay.” She finally replied, “And that’s ex-boyfriend by the way.”

  “Ex-boyfriend?” Rowan asked.

  “Oh, definitely ex-boyfriend.” Aelin was still angry, but nowhere near her blazing inferno of fury she felt earlier that day.

  “I’m sorry?” Rowan apologized, although it sounded more like a question.  Aelin just shook her head silently, silently telling him that he shouldn’t be. “Well I was starting to feel like you hitting me with your car was karma for earlier today, but maybe I shouldn’t feel bad.”

  “You shouldn’t.  I think the hottest man I know plowing down my cheating ex is some good karma, don’t you think?” Aelin asked cheekily, as they pulled into the hospital parking lot.

“I didn’t plow- the hottest man you know?” Rowan asked, finally catching up on what she said.

  Aelin flushed and turned away, she hoped he hadn’t heard that part.  Rowan put his hand over hers, drawing her attention back to his face.

  “Now I definitely don’t feel bad, I think me hitting him was karma for cheating on you.  I think you hitting me was fate.” Aelin rose a brow, wondering how the fuck getting hit with a car was a good thing. “The most beautiful girl in the world is taking me to the hospital, and I finally get a chance to ask her on a date after two years of waiting.”

  “Two years huh?” Aelin asked, bringing her head closer to his. He brought their lips down, they were almost touching.  She could feel his warm breath on her face.

  “You had a boyfriend.” That was all he said before he kissed her.  His lips were soft and warm, and she felt herself come alive in a way she never had while kissing Chaol.  Maybe Rowan was right, this was fate.

  They finally pulled away, catching their breath.  “Let’s get you checked out.” Aelin said, as she made her way to help him out of the car.

  Rowan placed a kiss on the top of her head as they made their way through the hospital doors, just in time to see Chaol being rolled out on a wheelchair.  Oh, good karma indeed.

#Rowaelin month #rowaelin fanfiction #rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galythinius #chaol westfall #lysandra ennar #tog #throne of glass #cheating #nesryn faliq

[itty-bitty-rampaging-committee]

My Top 8 Best Acting Moments from Aidan Gallagher!

Thank You to Anonymous for Requesting

Analysis Below

>>Warning: This is a giant post, so don’t click “read more” unless you genuinely want to read more. Otherwise, you’ll be scrolling for a long-ass time. This analysis covers the acting, psychology, and writing genius of Five Hargreeves.<<

So, this may be the lowest on this list, but it is by no means his weakest acting scene. My god, this scene is incredible because of the accuracy given the age and, henceforth, the experience of the actor.

Acting is effective if the person is able to accurately tell a truth whilst in imaginary circumstances. In order to act powerfully, we are commonly taught to connect complicated emotional situations to something we know well and, therefore, can portray well.

For many, being drunk isn’t anything new. And being tipsy isn’t exactly uncommon to act out. But for a fourteen-year-old, this is awesome to see because it is incredibly accurate. And, given the character’s psychological/emotional status, it’s even more impressive.

Here’s why:

So, right off the bat, listening to Aidan’s speech is something awesome. His clear yet natural slurring, his guttural tone: these two things are perfect indications of intoxication, since volume control is practically gone and drunk people don’t think things through. They just talk, and talk, and stumble because their inhibitions are so low.

It’s can really be heard, best, when he says, “she said it makes me surly” and when Diego whips around, he says, “hmm?”

Another thing that makes this so fun to watch is the fact that Aidan is completely lax. Being carried is one sign of that, yes, but even his subtle movements are loose. He did his homework, not only for the vocalization of someone who is drunk, but also for their movements.

Look how loose his movements are. He just tosses his hand up, lets it drop back down, and his head is too heavy, flopping all around. Completely uncoordinated and smooth, which is a bright contrast to Five’s usual coordinated, sharp, and calculated movements. The character is relatively rigid, which makes sense given his psychology and traumas.

Speaking of traumas.

There is this beautiful, subtle self-soothing movement going on right here. It’s a clear comfort to him, and after the night he has had, and the trauma he has endured, it makes perfect sense for him to be clinging to her as such. Whether Aidan knew what he was doing with this, I can’t say, but what I can say was that it was a fantastic choice of action to follow through with.

KEY NOTES: Acting drunk is all about fluidity. You make yourself as liquid-y as possible. Become one with the water, though not in an elegant way. Rather, become the cup that’s just tipped over. Water is spilling over the side, getting everywhere, aimlessly spreading across the tabletop. It’s a mess, it has no direction nor stability, etc.

Aidan follows through with this beautifully. I could gush about this all day, just as I could with so much of his acting. Acting drunk is hard, even for some adults. Luckily, he has it on his side that Five is so completely opposite of what we see here, that him being so flimsy and giggly is strange as shit.

Additionally, if you’re ever needing to act drunk, do the opposite of your character, given the script allows it. If the character is normally very carefree and lighthearted, become the depressed, crying drunk, or the angry drunk. Or, like Aidan, if your character is normally rigid, become a giggling mess that can’t take shit seriously.

On to the next, where it’s more about the psychology of a character rather than the physical acting of the actor...

This scene. This was the moment that made me realize just how much I adored Five when he’s absolutely batshit. Unlike most of this list, where internal conflict and monologue drives for an impressive performance, in this case, it is the external conflict and monologue that makes this scene fantastic!

Here’s why:

It is an absolute rollercoaster of emotions for Five Hargreeves.

Seriously, this guy is leaping from emotion to emotion, bouncing between frustration to borderline panic to bitter glee to mania to relief. You can practically see the gears turning in Aidan’s head throughout the entire scene as he throws Five through the ringer.

So, from the top, we’re given this glorious moment, both a genius writing move and fantastically acted.

The vending machine.

I know a lot of people are like, “hell yeah” because Aidan gets to say “fuck”, or because he’s just off the shits. There are many reasons to love this scene. But I especially love this scene because it’s really introducing to the audience exactly what’s going to happen: intensity, violence, and Five snapping, losing his cool in a lapse of fear and frustration and desperation. And it’s beautifully encapsulated in this one fucking scene.

Aidan’s acting here might seem easy, and in a sense, it is. It’s easy to ram your shoulder against a vending machine and shake it and get mad. But what isn’t easy is knowing why you’re doing this, and feeling it. Just from observation and process of elimination, Aidan’s likely mostly a method-based actor. He bases his acting, and his characters, in his own reality. That means that, if Five is panicked, Aidan will force panic upon himself. He’ll induce an emotion physically to get a psychological and emotional reaction.

And here, it’s clear that whatever he was thinking out, however he had prepped for this scene, was working. Because you can freeze these frames and, sure, see funny faces. But you’ll also see flashes of fear, of desperation, of panic, of anger. Fear and panic because he may fail his siblings, he may not be able to save them. Desperation because he needs this to work, he is going to murder all these people and so he needs it to work. And anger because the Handler is making him do this again; he’s right under her thumb once more.

All of these emotions, every damn one, is played out in this one. fucking. scene. And that’s insane.

Those emotions come to a head here:

Aidan’s deep, stabilizing breath grounds Five. He has gotten his rage and desperation and fear out. Now, there’s only one thing for Five to do: murder the Board. And it’s an instant click here.

There’s the deep breath. The understanding. The resignation to what needs to be done.

Then a head turn.

Then boom. Look carefully. You can see the light drain from his eyes, see the hesitation bleed out right there. Right there. All within a breath, head turn, a beat, then a face forward.

That is some intense grasp on your physicality, your emotions, and your portrayal of those emotions. Aidan’s always been fantastic at emoting, but subtle scenes like this just prove his class in it. It’s incredible to see.

And then this scene:

This shit is actually an amazing move on Aidan’s part. It holds both literal and metaphorical weight: he sighs, from exhaustion, because Five is fucking tired after jumping that much, expending that much energy in a short amount of time, and narrowly letting his target escape. But it’s also showing a mental exhaustion, a wearing of the mind on the body. He sighs from relief, but it’s ironic, because the fight is far from over.

And you can see that.

Notice how Aidan may be sighing - sighing with his whole body - but the exhaustion is still in his eyes, his brow is still furrowed. There is no relief there, because there isn’t any relief for Five in this moment. His mission has been accomplished, but he has to deal with the Handler, with the aftermath, with the repercussions of his selfish actions to save his family.

And you can see it all in this movement.

KEY NOTES: When acting out internal conflict, be subtle. Obvious movements are made for obvious, external conflicts. A person who punches first in a bar fight as an obvious external conflict. But, like shown here, a person who is breaking from the inside out will have external action, but also internal emotion that comes out in the most subtle of ways, whether it be through expression, through contradicting action (the sigh, but no visible relief), etc.

More often than not, in the arts, less is more. However, you first need to understand the more to be able to do the less. So analyze the scene, analyze the character, understand it fully, and feel it truthfully.

Onto the next!

This scene is quick but beautiful.

I love the entire apocalypse scene, and I’m sure you do as well. But this one moment right here. This moment where he sees Klaus and backs away? Fucking beautiful.

Let’s just zoom in, shall we?

Yes, a lovely grainy gif. But God it shows everything you need it to. This scene is a fucking gutpunch, and here’s why:

You can see every flicker of emotion, every transition. It’s in the way his mouth eventually closes, the way he backs up, slowly. It’s so fucking evident that Five is heartbroken, and you can see the thoughts going through his head. The realization that this is Klaus, that his siblings are dead, that he is alone in this apocalypse and his family is dead. The tears in his eyes...

God, bro. It hits so good.

Not being able to use dialogue can sometimes be difficult, because the actor doesn’t have a key part of their craft with them: words. Being able to emote, to shift from emotion to emotion so seamlessly with just a meager movement of the jaw while backing away. It’s incredible.

That’s literally all this is about. I chose this as my number six because it is so powerful within only a hundred-or-so frames. Having an actor be able to emote to clearly with just facial expression...

Shit, bro. Shit. It’s fantastic.

Like I said, the rest of this scene is amazing, and him finding his other siblings is intense, but this look right here is just...unparalleled. 

KEY NOTES: Feel that shit. If you can’t feel it, craft a narrative to make yourself feel it. Again, acting is always about believing and living truthfully in imaginary circumstances, and sometimes it’s difficult to express emotions and feelings as is, let alone without dialogue. To help that, think of something.

For example, in this scene, if I were Aidan, I would think about the fact that these people I love are dead, the world as I know it is destroyed. Sure, I may not know that literal feeling, but I do understand the feeling of hopelessness, of feeling so utterly alone. Make it so that you’re able to live truthfully, however you need to do that. People usually don’t have completely empty heads; they’re thinking of things, of many things, often. So think about those things in-scene and in-character, and feel it.

Additionally, this is going back to the less is more. Aidan barely moves, here. His expression is relatively static but that slow back away, that hardening of his jaw, those things are gentle shifts that drastically change the way Five is in the scene. He goes from shocked, slack-jawed and glassy-eyed, to feeling cold realization as he closes his mouth and backs away, the understanding dawning upon him.

I could gush about this for decades...

Next!

This whole barn scene is just...gold as fuck. But this scene in particular, with the interwoven flashbacks of Five’s siblings, his father, his instances with time travel. The realizations that cross his face are beautiful, which in turn, makes this scene fantastic.

Get ready for some awkwardly close close-ups, because I’m about to explain some really cool shit as to how Aidan’s using facial expressions to navigate pain, realization, fear, surprise, etc.

So here’s why:

FEELING THE FEELINGS.

That’s how. A lot of what makes this scene powerful from an acting perspective is because Aidan completely suspends himself in disbelief. There are a lot of surprises that come to Five in this moment, and Aidan feels them all. And he feels them powerfully. He feels the shock around the pain of being shot, on top of it.

So to kick it off! Here:

Aidan’s living in this moment. He’s living in the anger of the Handler, thinking he’s going to die right here. His siblings have just been murdered again, by this bitch. And the audience is able to live in that with him. His eyes harden. His jaw sets. He’s breathing tight around the pain, infuriated, either shaking from the agony or the hatred or both.

Five is so caught up in that moment, and Aidan suspends himself in that moment so clearly, that the next moment is powerful as shit.

The Handler gets shot.

She gets turned to swiss-fucking-cheese right in front of him, and the way Aidan lets Five live in every second is beautiful. He goes from shocked, to confused, to going, “oh shit, that looks painful”. And it’s muted by his pain. Aidan doesn’t need to move much, he doesn’t need to make a grandiose gesture. It’s wide eyes, it’s knitted eyebrows, it’s swallowing around the blood and letting Five be in this moment.

And then Five realizes - Aidan lets Five realize - that the Swede has taken the Handler’s place. That he’s going to die all over again.

There is that anger again. That pure fucking spite. It’s the look of a man who would murder someone if he could sit up. His jaw sets from before, where it was slack with surprise and sympathetic pain. Look how sharp his eyes are. Boy is fucking pissed and it’s beautiful.

Let’s hop back! Back to movement!

Aidan’s squirming around here?

Realistic as shit. Five’s just been shot. That’s absolute agony. And there’s blood coming down the side of his mouth, which means his lungs have somehow been hurt. He can’t talk, breathing must suck, and so of course he’s writhing on the ground.

And this?

Is Five clenching his hands from pain? Is he trying to blink? What’s going on here? I don’t know, maybe Aidan does, but either way, both motivations are powerful. Five may be trying to blink away. He may be trying to tap into his powers instinctively. Or maybe he’s squirming in pain, clenching and unclenching his fists. And that shit punches. It’s so subtle, but so good, keeping the audience in the moment. No matter where you look on his body, whether his hands, his face, his chest - it all shows the agony he’s in, the desperation he’s swimming in.

Which then leads to the coolest fucking moment:

Look at how his eyes shift, only just so. His brows furrow only slightly. He’s realizing what’s going on, what he can do to save his family. Aidan played this perfectly. Again, less is more. These subtle movements make so much sense, because Five has been shot, he’s losing blood fast, and it’s dulling his movements and senses.

And when Five begins turning back the seconds?

The pain, the shock, the “holy shit this is working???” My god, you can see him choking on the blood and around the agony. You can see his hesitation, his being startled by his own powers, by what he is capable of. The rapid blinking, the jumping eyebrows, the gasping for air as the bullets likely begin ripping out of him.

KEY NOTES: Subtle subtle subtle. Live in that moment. Suspend your disbelief. Here, in this scene, there are several key shifts. These shifts are supposed to be a massive surprise to Five. And because Aidan is king at staying in the moment, and letting that moment live in him, he is able to display these shifts perfectly.

1st Shift - Realizing he is alive, and his siblings are dead.

2nd Shift - The Handler getting shot.

3rd Shift - Axel moving to kill him.

4th Shift - The realization of his father’s words.

5th Shift - Holy shit time travel is working.

All of them need to have a shift in-scene/with the tone. Aidan shifts this with pure expression. He doesn’t need to utter a single word because he is able to live in that moment and truly let himself be shocked, scared, desperate, angry, etc. So, in order to do this, live in the moment.

Some people say knowing exactly what will happen helps, because you’re able to time your expressions perfectly. Others say that knowing nothing helps, because you’re literally letting yourself be surprised. This truly depends on the actor, and their style. Aidan has expressed that he waits to read his lines until he’s there, on set, because then it’ll be more of a shock to him. That works really well for him (clearly) but it may not work for you, so test that out how you’d like.

Onto the next!

This. 

Shit. 

Is so good.

The moment when Five meets with Dolores again after god knows how much time while he was at the Commission-- It’s beautiful. And again, being the king of the subtle, Aidan can display the perfect mix of emotions that are occurring in this scene.

Here’s what’s up:

As many people may have noticed, a lot of these fantastic, key moments for me, in particular, are special due to subtlety. And subtlety is seen in the micro-expressions displayed through the face, mainly. Specifically, the eyes. Aidan’s ability to act solely through his eyes is something I’m going to focus on for this scene in particular.

These are his eyes the moment he sees Dolores again. And what’s really, really fucking cool is that Aidan is completely living in this scene. It shows in his eyes: real compassion, real love, real care. Sure, Aidan may not care about the mannequin in front of him, but he is thinking about something, whether that’s Five’s ties to Dolores, or someone in his life that he truly feels fond over.

You can see it.

His eyes soften significantly as the gif continues, and you can even see the corners of his eyes upturn after he says, “Dolores”. There is real love here. The actor is able to portray true love through just the eyes. And that’s insane. Many actors express love through physical action because they may not be actually feeling it. They’ll say, “I love you” but express flatly, with dull eyes and a forced smile.

But here. No, not that shit. This shit has Aidan feeling everything. And it makes a big difference, makes everything feel so much more genuine. Good acting is through the eyes, not the words. Dialogue enhances the story, but being genuine, and selling that story as “reality”, is done by the actor, through the eyes, the subtle expressions, the minimal gestures and movements.

Let’s look at some more eyes?

Now, I fucking hate looking at eyes. But with Aidan - like with many good actors - I find them fascinating to watch. Because if an actor is feeling it, is living in the moment, they will express fantastically through their eyes. Most human communication is body language/unspoken, and I’m willing to bet a good chunk of that is through the eyes alone.

You can see Five thinking in that second gif, his eyes flicking left, left further, deep in thought for just a second. That is the thing you should be envisioning when authors say, “they could practice see the wheels turning in their head”.

In that first gif, Aidan’s compassion and softness, his quiet eyes, are contrasted by the sharp roll following the “obviously”, which makes the love being expressed to Dolores only that much stronger. It enhances the moment. See, because being too subtle the entire time makes it so the audiences don’t pick up much at all, they don’t feel it. And being too obvious makes you an amateur, makes it comical, almost.

When you’re strong in your craft, you’re able to make every single move in the most calculated of manners, but you make it seem effortless, make it seem natural. That’s incredible shit.

I’m by no means saying Aidan is perfect. He definitely isn’t. But, scenes like this showcase his experience in the field.

KEY NOTES:

Piggybacking off the subtlety discussed earlier, practice living in the moment. There is no real way to practice “being subtle” because it manifests naturally when the actor is living in the moment. Hence why this scene is so high on my list.

So learn to equate the emotions of your characters to your life. Tie your character’s life into yourself, somehow, all while keeping a safe distance. It’s by no means easy, and it takes years to learn how to do that, how to express naturally and not force a single thing. Being vulnerable, and raw, and flawed like that is hard, since so many people are taught that flaws are shameful, that perfection is required for success. But acting, like much of the arts, require you to unravel that believe and be truly vulnerable, exposed to possibly millions of viewers.

So learn to live in the moment. That will shield you all whilst letting you live freely as the character and, therefore, express truthfully and subtly.

Next!

Remember my rant about subtlety?

Yeah, fuck that, because with this, we’re going to talk about going off the rails. But, going off the rails in a tasteful manner. The paradox psychosis scenes were a beautiful contrast to a normally stiff, calculated character. it was satisfying, and entertaining, and so fucking powerful when breaking down the psychology of Five.

So let’s hop into that:

Psychology is everything to a character, because it is everything to humanity, and people as a whole. Every decision made is dictated by psychology, by experiences and how those are compartmentalized and processed in the brain. An action isn’t done without it meaning something to the person.

And the same goes for every character made.

If you are a writer, you need to understand the actions and reactions of your characters based on their experiences and their psychology. If you just...write random shit because you want to, or because it seems funny or creepy, it may be good, but it won’t line up psychologically and it’ll show. It’ll be obvious to those of us that study this day-in-day-out. 

The same goes for acting and actors.

An actor will be much more powerful in their role if they can understand their character’s psychology. The amount of empathy going into this is intense, especially for those playing “villains” or antagonists - those with flimsy morals - because you need to be able to break down, understand, and agree with the psychology of your character. It’ll make them so much more realistic and powerful.

That is why seeing Five - a normally calculated, sharp, careful character - off the shits is the best thing ever. And it’s in-character, too! He’s learned over the years that independence is the key to survival, that thought (as opposed to action, or outbursts) yields better results.

Yet here, in the scene, Five is relying upon Luther’s help. He’s trusting his brother. He’s acting irrationally. He’s skittish. And it’s such a beautiful contrast. Admittedly, this scene is more about the writing than Aidan’s acting, but it is still fantastically acted, and that only adds more to the realism, to the intensity, to the fact that it is so not Five to do this, and yet, it is very much so Five.

That! Is because of body language.

We know it is Five, that it is in-character, because it still follows Five’s normal body language, his gestures, his manic buzzing around despite his words sounding paranoid, despite his actions being rash. I’ve already spent a lot of time on this number already, so I’ll just demonstrate with a specific scene:

He’s pensive as hell right here. Shoulders tense, shifting back wards. He knows what’s going on, he’s as terrified as he allows himself to be (because he can’t stifle it, perhaps), and it’s so very Five while also being not Five at all. 

Despite the music telling us it’s all gucci, it is not all gucci. Look at his eyes. They harden. They get dark. His demeanor completely shifts into caution. he swallows. Steels himself. This is the Five we know - a paranoid little shit - and yet, there is fear that is so uncharacteristic. All through Aidan’s beautiful acting. All through him understanding the psychology of Five perfectly. This is why it is required that you understand your character’s every move, every action, every line of dialogue, every thought.

So, this kind of shit throughout the entire paradox psychosis scene is just amazing. And it’s exactly for the reasons listed above. Aidan knows Five. Not only is he Five, but he knows Five. Inside and out. And god does it show.

KEY NOTES:

Know your character. Know them better than you know yourself. Deadass. Know them better thank you know yourself so that you can delve into the meat of their psychology and tweeze out exactly what you need to do in order to act them correctly.

Onto the next!

This gourmet shit.

Time to get uncomfortably close once again.

The jaw clench! The cheek tightening! The head tilt! The lips thinning! Look at that beautiful expression. See, acting, like writing, is all based on formula. Now, I’m going to out myself, but I’m autistic. Facial expressions, movements, twitches, etc. aren’t inherent to me, and understanding them and analysis them is a learned behavior.

Actors and writers, like me, need to understand the formula.

Clenched jaw + fidgeting + tightening lips = numerous things, ranging from frustration, to anger, to desperation, to pain.

But when you include the eyes.

The eyes tell it all. 

Small, watering, tight at the corners, knitted brows. All of these, plus our formula above, create the perfect mix of frustration, desperation, pain, fear.

He is frustrated with the situation, with Vanya. He is desperate to get her to listen. He is in pain because he hates to do this to her, hates to have to fight her on this. And he is scared because what if he has to fight her?

Actors are usually conscious - at least at first - about these movements. They learn to have complete control of their bodies, their faces, down to the muscle. Or, they should. I can’t speak for Aidan, because I’m not him, clearly. But I can safely say that, if he doesn’t consciously have control of his body and understand exactly what’s going on, then he  has some intense intuition about his emotions. He is able to perfectly display a mishmash of emotions, all perfect given the situation, the character, his experiences.

Aidan gives Five the multi-layering goodness that we analysis kids love because Five isn’t just upset. He isn’t just frustrated. He is frustrated on top of being scared, and agonized, and exhausted (you can see the weariness in his eyes; it’s all in the eyes).

KEY NOTES

I’m not sure if this would help, but try making a formula. If you are worried about your character not doing an emotion right, or wanting to do multiple emotions at once, craft a formula or a chart. 

So, say you want depression and anger. A basic formula could look like this:

Depression = Hollow Eyes + Monotone Voice + Slumped Posture

Anger = Shaking + Sharp Eyes + Clenched Fists 

Then, you can combine the two together. You can have hollowed eyes, and a monotone voice, but also sharpened corners to the eyes, and clenched fists. Here, Aidan is tapping into multiple things, things that have interwoven specifics to their formulas. That’s why it works so beautifully. His eyes scream agony, his jaw tightens with frustration, his eyebrow knit together with frustration--

Bless this kid and his acting.

Anyways, last but definitely not least, here is my final analysis:

Now, this scene may not seem like the most intense acting ever, but in reality - to me - this shit is insanely powerful. It’s not just the acting going into work here; it’s the blocking, the dialogue, the pacing, the atmosphere, the emotional environment, the music and sound engineering...

It’s a fucking cinematic masterpiece.

But, since I am here to talk about just acting, and just Aidan’s acting, let me tell you about how this scene is made so good. There are two reasons:

One, is that Aidan is a master at post traumatic stress disorder and PTSD psychological processes and how that comes out in action, reaction, dialogue delivery, etc.

And two, he acts like a grown-ass old man.

Let’s talk about the second one first, because why not:

(apologies ahead of time for fucked gifs, this scene is impossible)

This scene. It’s just a drink. Chill, whatever, right?

Wrong.

It’s the way he moves. The way he drinks. The way he holds himself when he is around Reginald, another man his age. Around another man his age that had abused him, had done him wrong, but in Five’s eyes, some whom he had done wrong, too.

Luther is the sibling that is always said to be in denial about their father’s wrongdoings, but a lot of people neglect the fact that Five is, too. He is just as much in denial as Luther, if not more so by the time season two wraps up.

And it shows.

It shows in the way he moves as if they were equals, when they are so clearly not. He tils his head, gives acknowledgement in the way old men do. The generational gap is closed by Aidan’s movements, not by his words. It’s incredibly satisfying to see Five’s psychology bleeding through as he instinctively shifts from “I’m dealing with a bunch of kids” to “I’m alongside a man my age, my father”.

And speaking of psychology, let’s please talk about PTSD.

Specifically, subtle show not tell of PTSD, all through the eyes.

Right. Here.

Look, I’m not going to lie, if I analyze this scene, it’ll be the same things you’ve heard before. Everything I gushed about earlier is going to be repeated here for the ultimate finale on this long-ass fucking post.

But, humor me.

Five’s got trauma. Bitch has trauma for days. Though, he doesn’t wear it. He hides it, he buries it, because it is useless to him. Yet, it will always be there. His trauma of abandonment, and survival in the apocalypse, on top of the abuse from his father, the stress of his childhood, and topped off with the murder he had to shoulder for the sake of the Commission. Rarely does this show. Rarely is it seen.

Save for scene likes this. Right. Fucking. Here.

Aidan knows Five. And he knows the traumas Five’s endured.

Five can’t look at his father as he admits his failures, the snide, “I told you so” ringing through his head. He has to acknowledge that his father was right, that he was right all along. This is a burden Five has carried for decades, as seen with his discussion with Diego in 2x02. It’s not something small for him. So, to admit that...

The stare says it all.

His eyes are glazed over, lost in the past. He isn’t looking at Reggie, is looking past him. This is the thousand-yard stare you always read about. These are the eyes of agony, and regret, and a flashback. His eyes flick, flick to the side, towards the camera, as Five remembers something. Aidan knows how to play this. He knows how to play this trauma of remembering, of remembering what he had done to his siblings and how he has failed. And, finally, he is able to look and Reginald but he is choking back something. He swallows thickly, as if it’s almost sickening to do so.

Aidan’s understanding of Five, and his trauma and psychology, and expressing it all through his body language, and expression, and eyes. God, it’s fucking mesmerizing.

SO TO WRAP IT UP

Everything here is purely my opinion, but if I were to leave you with anything, acting (and writing) comes down to three basic things:

--Understanding the psychology of your character, through-and-through.

--Understanding your body, your expressions, your eyes, and how you react and can react to specific emotions.

--Living in the moment, and being present in the character’s life, being truthful to them over yourself.

These are the things that Aidan excels at. God, he is amazing at it. And I appreciate the hell out of it any time I see him. He is so truthful to Five, so honest to the character, that it’s beautiful to watch. Five is so flawed, so hurt, and so complex, and Aidan isn’t afraid to show us this vulnerability. I suppose that should be one last thing that all writers and actors and anyone in the arts should strive for:

--Vulnerability, pain, fear, and raw, oftentimes shielded emotions are not something to hide but, rather, are your greatest strength.

#aidan gallagher #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #tua #number five #five hargreeves #five #acting analysis

[buckyskorpion]

Do Something Bad, Too - Part 5

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader

Summary: It’s like every single Alpha on the planet won’t rest until they’ve confessed their eternal wish for you to mother their children, and it’s getting old. Luckily, that’s a problem Bucky might be able to fix.

Warnings: language, a/b/o dynamics, mentions of violence

A/N: sooooo..... lets not mention the last time i updated this fic was four years, and get excited that im finally updating!! woo!! i really hope this was worth the wait, im very anxious about letting you guys down. let me know what you honestly think! love u all, thank u for sticking with me

series masterlist | main masterlist | my ko-fi

You stay in Nat’s apartment in the Tower for the rest of your heat, which lasts an entire week. Nat comes and goes throughout that time to make sure you’re drinking enough water, to make you dinner or run you a bath, or sometimes just to keep you company when you’re capable of that. She doesn’t stay long, though, aware her presence just makes the unbearableness of going through heat even worse. She also doesn’t mention Bucky’s clothes or anything about that first day, which you’re immeasurably grateful for. You don’t think you could talk about it without crying.

To say you’re humiliated is an understatement. Mixed with that is all this guilt and shame and self-hatred for inflicting that situation on you and Bucky. Mostly for Bucky. He had made it so very clear he was only comfortable helping you with the scent thing, and even with that there were boundaries. You had blown through them all by showing up to his apartment, triggering both your instincts to do things you couldn’t control, and now he probably resented you enough to never want to see you again.

You don’t blame him. It doesn’t stop it from hurting so much, though.

You’ve well and truly fucked yourself now. Not only is it omega instincts driving you towards Bucky now, but also your own stupid, naive heart. You miss his giant hands and broad shoulders that block out the world for a second, narrowing your scope to just the two of you. You miss the way you can breathe around him, how the world doesn’t feel so scary and foreign to you when he’s by your side. It’s crazy because you weren’t even close, you weren’t even really friends, but now you never will be because you’re so goddamn stupid it’s actually astounding.

Nat’s plan had not worked. And this time, you couldn’t even blame her for this colossal backfire. This is all your handiwork.

You’re back in your office, returning to work once your fever died down and you could stand to be in the vicinity of other alphas without passing out. Maybe you’re tapping rather aggressively on your keyboard, and maybe all the techies on the floor can hear you sigh and groan in frustration every two seconds and are sending you strange looks through the glass. Whatever, you’re their boss, they can’t say anything. Besides, your boss has requested some rather strange security upgrades and you’re not sure if it’s within your job description to email Tony Stark and say what the fuck?

It turns out you don’t have to, because Tony Stark comes to you. It’s not often he takes part in the day to day workings of Stark Industries - that’s your job, after all. But he comes striding into your office eating an apple and wearing sunglasses during the middle of the day, and points a ringed finger at you.

“You’re back,” he says, and you find yourself glancing down at your baby-blue pantsuit just to make sure you are, in fact, back. Stark takes a very pointed breath through his nose and adds, “You smell terrible. This is great!”

“Great?” You can’t help but sound bitter. Your smell is hardly great to you. Even after sweating out your entire body-weight and taking more showers than is considered healthy, you still smell like Bucky. You can’t escape him - not your thoughts, not your heart, and certainly not the way your skin seems to emanate him like he’s crawled underneath and set up shop. It’s embarrassing and humiliating, because it’s not real, and just serves to remind you of the terrible mistake you’ve made. You hope beyond hope Stark doesn’t recognise the other alpha scent clinging to your pores.

“Yes, great. I need your help,” he says, sitting down in a chair opposite your desk. You glance at the specs you have open on your computer, the strange security upgrades he wants you to make to the Tower, and then back to Stark’s million-dollar smile. It’s unsettling. You feel a headache forming before he even opens his mouth.

“If this has anything to do with these emails-“

“Those can wait,” Stark says, waving a dismissive hand at your computer. He lobs his applecore into the bin beside your desk as if to punctuate his point, then says, “This is a request on behalf of the Avengers.”

“Um,” you say, rather eloquently. Avengers? What on earth could they want with you, unless- you groan, rolling your eyes to the ceiling. “Natasha.”

“She highly recommended your expertise,” Stark says, and that headache brewing in your temples blooms into a full-blown migraine. He stands, smooths out his slacks, and says without room for question, “Follow me.”

This is how you end up back in the residential floors of the Tower, much to your chagrin, which Stark seems to pick up on. The closer you get to Bucky’s floor the more fidgety you become, heart racing and skin turning clammy until you watch the numbers fly by and you leave him somewhere in the clouds above Manhattan. The elevator doors ding open to a floor that seems to go on forever, full of gym equipment and fancy simulation tech you figure the Avengers must use to train. You find Natasha’s red head on the sparring mats, tackling someone to the ground with her thighs, and glare daggers as you follow Stark into the room.

“She’s alive!” Natasha calls across the room, ignoring your death glare for a knowing smirk. Her voice echoes through the warehouse-style gym floor, drawing the attention of the others in the room. The Avengers, and all of a sudden you feel like an eighteen year old kid watching aliens attack New York on a grainy satellite TV in the desert again. This is like meeting celebrities on another level. Steve Rogers finishes wrapping his hands as he walks over to you and Stark, Sam Wilson beside him, and Natasha gives Clint Barton a hand to help him up from the mats.

“What have you roped me into now, Nat?” you ask, not bothering to hide your frustration. You’ve just about had it with her meddling, but you should’ve known it was a pipe dream to think she would stop.

“We know you’re very busy, we won’t take up much of your time,” Steve Rogers says, extending a hand and introducing himself like he needs to. Captain America needs no introduction.

“I know who you all are,” you say, giving them a nod. “And you’re right, I am busy. So why am I here?”

“You and Nat must get along like a house on fire,” Clint says, earning him an elbow in the gut from Nat herself. You grin, all sharp in the way Nat tells you looks scary in a hot way, and watch as he subtly shifts behind Nat as if to hide behind her smaller frame. It’s only then that you register the scents mingling between them, and realise that Clint Barton is Nat’s omega. She grins at you, beatific and serene, as if she can read your thoughts and knows exactly what you’ve just figured out.

“Let’s not hold (Y/n) up any longer,” Nat says, grinning in a way that always spells trouble for you. “She’s a woman in high demand.”

Stark leads them to what seems to be a large empty space in the training facility, but it’s soon filled with hologram projections from a tiny Starkpad he pulls from his pocket. You fall into step beside Nat, using your height advantage to glare down at her and convey the level to which you want to strangle her right now. She just loops her arm with yours and kisses you on the cheek, frustrating your attempts at intimidation before you can even begin. Bloody Russian spies, you grumble to yourself as you come a halt in front of the holograms.

You’re looking at building specs, that much is obvious. Why, though, is entirely lost on you. The structure is a tall hexagonal building reminding you of a panopticon, with security floors in the centre and what seem to be prison cells surrounding them. Details jump out from Stark’s hologram - security cameras, miniature guards patrolling the floors, thermally sealed doors and electromagnetic force-fields on the cells. It’s a prison, you surmise, and you’re starting to get a bad feeling as to why you’re here.

You turn to Nat and say, “I’m not going back in the field.”

She pats your arm with only a tiny bit of condescension and says, “I’m not asking you to.”

“You’re my Head of Security,” Stark says, then gestures to the hologram building, “If you can design impenetrable security systems, surely you can undo them.”

“You want me to help you break into this place?” you ask. The team all nod, and you look back at the intimidating, virtual-blue building in front of you. “It’s a fortress.”

“Yeah, they really upped the anti on security since I was in there,” Sam Wilson says, earning him a reproachful look from Steve. It does nothing to soothe the anxiety starting to thread through your chest. Failing the Avengers doesn’t seem like an option, but from where you’re standing, neither is breaking into this facility.

“I’ll need to know what it is first,” you say, “Then I can try and help you. Emphasis on try. I’m not a miracle worker.”

“It’s called the Raft,” Steve says, his face growing stony and set as he talks. “It’s a prison designed for enhanced persons by Secretary Ross. After Germany, I broke Sam, Scott, and Clint out. But Wanda-“

“We need to get her out of there,” Clint says. You pretend not to notice as beside you Nat discreetly takes his hand, rubbing her thumb across his bruised knuckles.

“Leave the search and rescue to us,” Stark says, and you watch him shift uncomfortably under some inscrutable looks Steve and Sam are giving him, “We just need your help on how to get into the joint.”

“Simple,” you breathe, but only Nat laughs. This seems like an impossible task, but from the look of  everyone around you, failure isn’t an option. You’re going to have to make the impossible possible. It’s a good thing you’ve had some experience with that - in the military, trapped into sand-filled corners with no foreseeable way out, it really did seem like you were working miracles to stay alive out there. You swallow past a dry mouth and blink through desert-gunked eyes, say, “I’ll need that Starkpad, and some time.”

“You have forty-eight hours,” Stark says. The hologram disappears in a blink as he throws the Starkpad, no bigger than your palm, which you only just manage to catch. Stark clicks his fingers, as if an idea as just occurred to him, and says, “Oh, I almost forget to tell you! The Raft is underwater. Completely submerged, middle of the ocean, super top-secret. Fun, right?”

Your heart drops to your stomach. Fun is not the word you you would use. Only forty-eight hours to break into the most secure facility in the country, if not the world? This day couldn’t possibly blindside you anymore.

As if the universe is conspiring against you, FRIDAY’s voice chimes in from overhead speakers to say, “Mr Stark, Sergeant Barnes is on his way to the gym floor.”

You feel your whole body lock up, heart seizing in your chest - Bucky? Here? You weren’t prepared to see him yet, or speak to him. What would you say? How could you apologise for one of the worst crimes you may have ever committed, and you’ve killed people? Natasha unloops her arm from yours, tries to soothe you with a hand on your back but it does nothing for the anxiety shooting sparks throughout your blood stream.

“How many times have I got to tell that illiterate Soviet popsicle, he’s not on the fucking team,” Stark grumbles, storming towards the elevators with a scowl. Steve clenches his fists, glaring after Stark but Sam holds him back. He mutters something only Steve can hear which makes him close his eyes and exhale sharp through his nose - frustrated, but calming by the nanosecond.

It’s a shame nobody thought to do the same for you.

“What did you just call him?” you say, ignoring Natasha’s warning murmur of your name as you follow after Stark. Maybe you still have some residually elevated hormones from your heat, or you really are just a lovesick idiot who can’t control her temper, but whatever it is has you absolutely incensed. Stark stops dead, clearly caught off guard by the venom in your voice, and spins on his heel to stare at you incredulously.

“Excuse me?” he says, blinking owlishly at you as you lean up into his space. You’re aware you’re overstepping the boss/employee line, but you can’t help yourself. The rage is brewing, and with each laboured breath Bucky’s scent grows stronger and stronger until it’s all you can smell. It settles over your skin like armour, and the urge to protect that hold on you, to protect him, is beyond your control - it’s primal.

“Don’t talk about him like that, ever,” you snarl, watching with satisfaction as Stark’s eyes turn round and wide.

He glances behind you towards his friends and says, “Are we sure she isn’t an alpha? Sheesh.”

“Tony,” Natasha warns, but it’s too late. You use the palm of your hand to slam into Stark’s solar plexus. You kick out his kneecap and he drops on one knee, wheezing and gasping for air. It all happens so fast you can’t even think about the repercussions of assaulting your boss, let alone what’s driven you to do it in the first place.

“I don’t need to be an alpha to kick your ass,” you hiss, glaring down at Stark who looks up at you like you have, in fact, lost your mind.

At that moment, the elevator dings and reveals Bucky practically seething behind the elevator doors. He storms in, larger than life - in the week or so it’s been since you’ve seen him, you’ve somehow forgotten how physically intimidating he actually is. You immediately step back from Stark’s kneeling figure, feeling the strange need to hide your hands behind your back like a kid caught with the cookie jar. Bucky glances wildly between you, Stark on the ground, and the ring of Avengers in different states of attempting to intervene. He heaves ragged breaths and is emitting a scent that threatens to take you to your knees, too. Authoritative, powerful, protective.

That submissive, animalistic side of you makes you really hate being an omega sometimes.

“Why is she here?” Bucky asks someone behind you, probably Natasha. He swings his, frankly, frightening gaze to Stark and demands with just as much venom as you had, “What did you do to her.”

“Jesus Christ, nothing!” Stark wheezes, clutching at the spot on his chest you’ve definitely bruised. He points an accusing finger at you and cries, “She hit me!”

“I’m so sorry,” you say, feeling your hands start to shake where you clutch them behind your back. You look to Bucky like maybe he can explain, which makes you sick to your stomach because he’s not yours to look towards. Now, more than ever, that is abundantly clear. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“I do!” Natasha pipes up behind you, helpful as ever. Bucky glares at her for you this time, releasing you of his burning-hot stare. His gaze has the power to paralyse you, and you need to get away from him, this, all of it - right now. You don’t get a chance to, however, before Natasha once again sticks her foot in it and says, “She was defending your honour, James.”

“Yeah, and I’ve no idea why. One quick google search should tell you he doesn’t need any-“

It takes you a second to realise the snarling, growling sound echoing through the gym is coming from you. Your face burns as you roll your lips together, cutting the sound off completely. For your entire life you’ve been headstrong and confident, but this whole experience with Bucky from the very first day you met him has shaken your entire self-perception. Everything you’ve known has been turned upside down - it was easy when all alphas were assholes, and you were one omega they couldn’t fuck with. Now, you stare down at your shoes and refuse to look in Bucky’s direction because he’s affected you so much you can’t even control yourself anymore. The worst part is that it’s entirely your own doing, because Bucky made it very clear you aren’t the one he wants, so everything you’re doing right now is just incredibly humiliating.

“(Y/n)?” Bucky’s voice makes you shudder. Looking at him would surely make you burst into flames, from embarrassment of the last time you saw him which you can’t even think about, or from the shame of pathetically defending a man who doesn’t want anything to do with you. He doesn’t even want you here, storming up to ask why you’re in his home in the first place.

“I’m gonna go,” you say, giving Bucky a wide berth as you head for the elevators. You can’t get there fast enough, practically sprinting to press the close-door button as fast as you can.

“Wait-“

And then, the absolute worst thing happens. You almost crush the Starkpad still in your hand from clenching your fist so hard - you have to, in order to keep your hands by your sides and not in Bucky’s personal space. Because just as the doors are about to slide closed, he slips in between them and FRIDAY seals you both in. The elevator fills with Bucky Bucky Bucky, just like your heat-addled brain has been chanting at you since you stumbled into his apartment a week ago.

Bucky stares at you wide-eyed, and you stare back just the same. This could possibly be your worst nightmare come to life, especially when the elevator screeches to a halt and FRIDAY’s dulcet tones hammer your fate home.

“I appear to be having some technical difficulties,” FRIDAY says, sounding confused if an AI can sound like anything. “I’m so sorry, I’m trying to fix this. It seems someone is manually overriding my control of the elevator.”

“Nat,” you groan, in unison with Bucky. So that’s it. You’re stuck in an elevator with Bucky and are being forced to face the music, by the powers that be. The powers being Natasha, a no good meddler who is going to be in a world of pain when you get out of here. Alpha be damned.

#dsbt #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader fic #bucky x reader fic #avengers fic #marvel fic #a/b/o #a/b/o fic #a/b/o dynamics #alpha!bucky #omega!reader #reader insert fic #pov #pov fic #a/b/o au #bucky barnes #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #tony stark #steve rogers #clint barton #yoooo

[dollscircus]

Not what I expected - Chapter 1

Summary: I wanted to write a story with a platonic Din relationship with a young girl. Like a father daughter thing but also wanted a romantic relationship as well. Sooo I said screw it and did both.

Paring; Din Djarin (The mandalorian) x Earthling!F!Reader and Din Djarin and Oc (platonic)

You lived on earth your whole life with your younger sister unaware of your father's past and more extraterrestrial life until you are both taken from your home but someone is looking for your father. Your and your sisters' saviour comes in the form of someone who wears the same armour your father owns.

Includes: Canon typical violence, swearing, Din seeing a child and turns into a dad. In later chapters; eventual romance, eventual smut, din being a softy bc that’s my jam, more canon typical violence

Words: 1,655

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You wouldn’t say you resented your father- no, actually that’s a lie. You resented the hell outta him, he was a good father. Doting, caring. Would kill anyone that hurt you or Nora- figuratively. Both you and Nora were adopted; from where? You weren’t told but you didn't really care, he was the best dad you could ask for. Never yelled or got angry. Well, that’s also a lie. There was one time as a young girl where you were exploring his office which you weren’t allowed in but tell a 14 year old not to do something or go somewhere that basically asked them to and you found it- A set of armour but it wasn't like anything any knight armour you had seen before. It looked like it had been polished nearly everyday before you could really see your father appeared in the doorway and quickly rushed you away. From then- that door had a lock on it.

Nora always shared the same need for adventure as you did. You two would spend nights- weeks or sometimes even months on the road. Driving- flying wherever you two could, however your father never joined you on these trips. He would sit in his chair -a big man would naturally need a ridiculously large chair- and every time he was invited he would explain that had ‘enough adventure to last all of our life times’. Nora would be so mad he never told you two stories of these adventures but the almost mournful look in his eyes made it so you never asked. That’s no why you resented him- it was because one day just after Nora’s 15th birthday he vanished. You two woke up one day and he was just gone with a simple envelope being left for you both. A check of frankly a ridiculous amount of money and a letter were inside. Honestly- you were expecting a goodbye letter or even god forbid a suicide note but all it said was; “You won’t find me so don’t even look for me. I’ll try to return.’

You were a grown woman- you could handle yourself. You had a job and were only home because Nora was sick and your father had to work so couldn’t be around to help her. Why’d he have to work when he handed you a check with enough money to support you both so either of you would have to work? Fuck- you didn’t know. He had been missing for around 6 months when they came knocking- well crashing, shooting and yelling.

Honestly, it's mostly a blur. You remember the strange ship parked on the land behind your house- the strange men that picked the screaming Nora up- wait no- that screaming was you threatening the men to not touch her then as they began to enter the house you landed a pretty good elbow to the throat. He coughed and sputtered while the other man holding you still hit you with something. A gun is apparently a pretty universal thing because you could tell it was and you were hit with the butt of the gun.

“Where is he?” Demanded one of the men, his voice was grainy as the buzzing in your ear and his voice interlaced. The room you were in was -described simply- a box. A white box with harsh bright lighting coming from the roof above you. Clenching your fist as the writhed against the chair you were strapped into, the metal bindings caused bruises to form. Shaking your head as if that was going to get rid of the pain from the few hits you’ve already taken, you tried to find a response.

“I- don’t-“ You paused when a spike of pain shot through your jaw, “What is a mandalorian?” He scoffed muttering something in a language you’ve never heard before before striking you again, this time he planted his foot into your stomach. Clenching your body, you felt the vomit threatening to come up but you were able to fight it off. You were barely able to recover when he grasped your chin and pulled you face to his, his breath was horrible.

“We found beskar- don’t lie to me!” Yet another word which you didn’t know the meaning of, he found it? What the hell was he talking about? Feeling his nasty breath on your face, you instinctually spat in his face. Letting go of your face, he stopped to wipe the spit from his face before staring at you with a murderous glare. Suddenly he did a u turn and pressed a panel on the wall, a door suddenly sliding open with a soft hiss. You were a little startled when that happened. You were in that room when you awoke. So far, you had hidden the panic about Nora as when you had asked earlier you had earned your first bruise. You spent this time alone to ponder an escape- if you get out how are you getting Nora? You’ll just have to beat it out of ol’ smelly breath. This wasn't a fair fight- it was a surprise attack. Fuckin’ cowards.

The door opened again with a hiss- this time he was carrying something in his hand. Angry he swung it at you, landing it on your stomach. It wasn’t as painful as the kick but something sharp did poke her stomach. Looking down at the metal now, you recognised it. A childhood memory flashed through your mind. This was your fathers. You couldn’t contain this outburst as you leaned forward in your chair. Ignoring the pain of your shackles digging into your wrists.

“Who are you! This-“ You paused to look down at the helmet, now noticing the tiny horns decorating to top -you hadn’t noticed these when you were a girl-. “Why have you got me here? And where is my sister-“ You were all for continuing the rage filled line of questioning but me grasped your throat and spoke again;

“The owner- where is he?” He was looking for your father? Fuck, so were you.

“If you find him-“ You struggled to speak through choked breaths, “Tell me.”

*****

Nora tried to stifle tears as she sat in the corner of the box she was in- Nervously picking at her fingernails. The room was unnervingly quiet- an occasional distant sound caused Nora to jump. The last one caused her to jump up and begin to pace around like a caged animal, deciding to replace the fear with anger. Kicking the wall, Nore took one long inhale and then screamed as loud as she could.

“Let me out assholes!” She went to yell again but a loud band plus the distant sounds of alarmed sounded caused her throat to dry up and her mouth to clamp shut. Nervously rubbing her hands together she listened out for any other sounds, she walked back until her back was against the wall. The sounds continued until the once harsh lightning shifted to a dark red. Fighting back the urge to let out a squeal, Nora listened in horror as the noises and now heard shouting got closer until it sounded like it was on the other side of the wall she was leaning against.

About to move away, Nore really did let out a yelp when the wall behind her suddenly opened and went tumbling out and on to the floor. Muttering a quiet ‘ow’, Nora winced as the alarms, informing the urge to cover her ears but the shadow that was cast over her caught her attention. Turning herself around- Nora gulped as she stared at him down. He was tall- large- intimidating and covered in some kind of armour. Dear lord- and he just killed a dude. Nora noticed the man laying on the floor next to the towering man.

Nora and the person stared at each other for a few moments- Nora trying to gather the courage to run. She could feel her legs shaking but she finally took the chance just as he began to speak but Nora made a sound reminiscent of a war cry as she quickly stood and began to run. The hallway was long and Nora was surprisingly fast reaching the end of the hallway in a few moments. Seemingly on cue, the door at the end of the hallway opened; a man standing on the other side of the door away. Almost instantly, he raised a gun to Nora’s head.

“Duck!” She heard a voice from behind her yell, his voice sounded as if he were speaking through a robot filter. Nora didn’t know why, but she listened. Throwing herself down and back to the floor, she closed her eyes. After a moment she heard something thud to the ground, it was close to her; she guessed it was her would be attacker. Nora couldn’t hold back the tears now, she was borderline sobbing as a hand gently rested on her shoulder. The hand felt almost fatherly, a gesture she’s missed for a while. Opening her eyes, she looked at her saviour. Now he seemed more like a knight.

“I don’t know where I am-“ Nora said between sobs, “They have Y/N, my sister-“ Nora finally noticed that he had offered a hand to her, helping her to her feet, his helmet tilted down. Taking in her muddy and slightly bloody appearance. Nora had long since forgotten about the cuts on her arms and legs from the kidnapping.

“Stay close to me and we’ll find Y/N together.” His voice sounded like a robot- a robot knight. Nora began to walk behind him, one hand holding on to his cloak. She felt like a toddler but she knew that if she let go she would lose motivation to walk.

“What’s your name?” He asked, not looking back to her.

“Nora L/N.” She started to walk a little closer to him

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Any feed back would be appreciated!

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #Star Wars #the mandolarian #mando x you #mando #mando and grogu #reader insert #oc insert

[script-nef]

Ex-girlfriend | Miya Atsumu

Category: crack, fluff

Warning: profanities

1.4k words; just Miya Atsumu feeding his fans with his “girlfriend”

The link to the “interview” is a ridiculously high-quality cover of Colde singing Nabi Bobet Tau. It’s great, have a listen. The second one is “Lovestruck” also by Colde.

Lmao did you guys see the interview Atsumu did

Okay so I was just chilling on my couch, flicking through channels to see what’s fun and guess who I see. Getting interviewed. With his incredibly red “girlfriend” by his side. (In hindsight it could be because of the winter cold but listening to Atsumu, he’s probably the main cause) And feeding us for the next 2 months while MSBY doesn’t have any interviews or appearances.

Bruh the reporter who had the fortune of randomly meeting them, what’s the power to your luck I want them secrets. I need them secrets.

But honestly, I was in a shitty mood all day and his interview made my mood lift up. If you guys wanna see the interview, it’s here.

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LMAO HE SAID “THIS IS MY EX-GIRLFRIEND” ON LIVE CAMERA SHE LOOKED SO MORTIFIED AND I WAS SCREAMING LIKE “WHAT THE FUCK YOU BROKE UP ATSUMU WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING BEG FOR HER TO STAY” THEN HE RAISED HIS HAND UP I SAW THE RING I CAN’T BREATHE

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WHEN SHE SAID “Please stop introducing me to everyone like that” IN THE MOST EMBARRASSED VOICE LIKE BOY NOT GONNA LIE YOU HAD US IN THE FIRST HALF

AND IT WAS SO CUTE HOW SHE WAS SO RED AND HER REACTION WHEN SHE REALISED IT WAS LIVE. IT’S A MEME NOW I CALLED IT

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Did you see her eyes when he started saying all the soft shit they do together? She was staring off into the distance like she gave up everything but she smiled so cutely when he looked back at her like a puppy. This is what I’m talking about. This shit is my life source. I need me an Atsumu. I need me some romance. 

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“What would be different when you’re married?”

“Not much, but now I can use the ‘But I’m your husband’ card whenever I wanna hug!” BOY WHY ARE YOU SO PURE WHEN IT COMES TO HER WHY CAN’T YOU BE LIKE THAT IN YOUR MATCHES THE DUALITY OF THIS MAN

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DUDE HE FUCKING SAID THAT WE STAN THE BIGGEST SIMP PLEASE NEVER BREAK UP I AM BEGGING YOU!! FEED ME WITH THIS SOFT SHIT THIS IS WHAT GETS ME GOING

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They’re so goddamn cute… Are there more clips of them together or anything like that?

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There’s this page where people just dish whenever they see them together outside. It’s basically a massive collection of Atsumu being a lovesick fool for his now-fiancée. Here’s the link. 

Going out

Apparently his girlfriend worked for MSBY and he fell in love with her. But they had some kind of a bullshit “no dating people affiliated with the team” rule or something so he counted down the days until her year-long contract was over.

And everyone was basically rooting for them since they were super obvious and they officially started dating at the small party on her last day. I think there’s like a super grainy video of them hugging for the entire party. And like, she fits into his embrace perfectly like damn what a match I wish my boyfriend hugged me like that.

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SHIT IT’S FIANCÉE NOW I CAN’T BELIEVE BE HAPPY YOU FUCKING CUTIES I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH

Café AU

I own a café and Atsumu comes regularly with his girlfriend. She always orders the chocolate waffle combo which is a plateful of waffles topped off with oreo crumbles and chocolate sauce and a milkshake. But Atsumu doesn’t like sweet things so he just watches her the entire time. You know the “chin rested on hand, leaning onto the table and looking at their significant other like the rest of the world doesn’t exist” move? Yeah, imagine that times 2,000. Then square it. And even then you won’t come close to how lovestruck he is for her.

And whenever she looks up from her waffles, he just grins and asks her if it’s nice in the sweetest voice like. You can make those types of voices??? I thought my ears were malfunctioning for a second. 

They’re just really cute and make me happy whenever I see them. I’m pretty sure a lot of my regulars also support them as well. 

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So they’re getting married!! Ugh I swear I’m going to give them extra food as my way of saying congratulations the next time they come around.

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Wait, are you the owner of ChatNoir Café? Like the one Atsumu uploads onto his Insta all the time??

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That’s me! Yeah, thanks to him I’m getting more and more business everyday. You fans are so amazing I even made a deal for you guys. 

Atsumu just uploaded a video of him going through his new house. There is literally nothing in it other than bare essentials lmao. Hopefully they have similar taste in furnitures because I don’t think Atsumu’s going to back down on his decisions.

Insta upload

Atsumu just uploaded a video of him going through his new house. There is literally nothing in it other than bare essentials lmao. Hopefully they have similar taste in furnitures because I don’t think Atsumu’s going to back down on his decisions.

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Nah, man. He’s always going to back down for her. You know how a lot of couples break up during the preparation for the wedding because they realised they’re too stubborn and get into fights? I was fearing that happening for Atsumu but then the match incident happened and I realised. This guy is whipped for her. Properly whipped. He’s never going to break up with her.

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What’s the match incident?

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It’s probably on YouTube, just search “Atsumu kneeling”.

It was a match where he did a spike which bounded off the opponent blocker’s arm and somehow went straight to her face. I was nearby her and my heart literally leapt into my throat when I saw it. She reacted fast enough and blocked it with her hand, but you should really watch the video to hear the sound. It’s somehow still so strong even after hitting the blocker (powerful boi)

Anyway he immediately ran to her to check up on the damage and literally broke down when he saw her skin turning red. He later said she gets bruises easily and that this left one which persisted for like, 3 months. 

She kept saying it was fine and that’s it’s not his fault, but he knelt in front of her to show how sorry he was. In front of everyone. Like, everyone. I couldn’t see one person who wasn’t watching him. And everyone’s jaw was on the floor because holy shit this guy’s kneeling here. I couldn’t believe it and I was standing right there. 

The coach eventually came to take him back and sent her to the infirmary to get the hand checked out, but she said something to Atsumu first which revived him. He never told us what it was but apparently it’s something really good since he got like, 10 services aces after that.

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Lovesick Atsumu for the win

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LOVESICK ATSUMU FOR THE WIN SAY IT LOUDER SO EVERYONE CAN HEAR

Drawing upload

Atsumu has uploaded yet another painting of him done by his fiancée and it is honestly amazing how someone has that much talent. Like, she’s pretty, probably has the patience and kindness of a God because she’s able to deal with Atsumu, artistic and adorable. Lady, what don’t you have??

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I know right??? How are you so amazing please stop being so perfect and live like the rest of us plebeians down on Earth. How will I ever get a girlfriend when you’re everything I dream for??

 |

I can imagine her painting and decorating the whole house while Atsumu trails behind her like a loyal puppy. Am I weird if I say I can see in front of my eyes how he’ll carry everything around and lean down for head pats while saying he deserves them for being good. Anyone else think this? No? Just me? Alright then.

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YEAHHHH JOIN THE “ATSUMU IS FOREVER WHIPPED AND WE HAVE EVIDENCE” CLUB EVERYONE IS WELCOME!! In my 2 years of following this man I never thought that someone able to control him would appear but here she is. Our goddess. 

My only wish is for them to love each other and grow old. And hopefully update us on bits of their sweet and fluffy lives.

#atsumu x reader #atsumu imagine #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!! imagine #haikyuu one shot #haikyuu!! one shot #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #atsumu #miya atsumu #SNS format #crack #fluff #female reader

[bakugohoex]

chapter four ➺ worthy allies

pairing: pro hero katsuki bakugo x pro hero female reader

cw: language and angry boi, violence

word count: 2400+

a/n: i don’t know why i’m posting this at mid day but enjoy and i’d appreciate any support and views on this series

summary:  in which enemies become allies and by the end of the night your past friends become nothing as you prove your worthiness to the paranormal liberation front

chapter three | masterlist | chapter five 

↞ back to my hero academia masterlist

“How long do we have to wait?” You leant against the abandoned buildings sooty wall, your dress a mess, Hawks having said he’d bring your hero costumes but you both heard nothing from the flying hero.

“Can you be fucking patient?” Bakugo seethed at you, you played around moving some of the rocks with your fingers back and forth.

You dropped the rocks bored out of your mind, it had been hours and you bot had been waiting for a sign that they had seen your message, you thought it’d be easy for them to find you, using an old base they used years ago. It seemed perfect in theory but waiting with Bakugo was straining.

“Next time, don’t get all creepy with slitting the president up.” You glared at the boy.

“You better pray there isn’t a next time.” You folded your arms, leaning downwards, until you felt the grainy ground attack your thighs and ass. “I thought we did a decent job.”

“You fit being a sadist too well.” He muttered looking out of the window, wanting some sort of sign that this wasn’t all for nothing.

“What can I say? I learnt from you.” You teased, he looked back at you, noticing how your legs were out, you had ripped the end of your dress as soon as you and Bakugo landed. Feeling you so close had made him feel odd, he hated how close you both had, had to get and worst of all, you had been having the time of your life in the air.

“Shut up shitty woman.” He turned back to the sky, you both heard footsteps, instantly both your quirks activated, explosions from Bakugo’s hand and your hands ready to move the wood from the broken chair to stab whoever it was.

“Bakugo, what do we do?” You ask him.

He moved towards you with an even more confused look, “how the fuck should I know?”

The door opens wide and you see a man with a top hat, white boots and a long orange coat. Both you and Bakugo put down your quirks, staring at him, “before I get started with what Shigaraki wants, I have to tell you, you’re performance was absolute divine, especially you miss Y/l/n, who knew stupid pro heroes like you were capable of creating such a villainous scene.”

You remembered from your days at UA exactly who the man was, he was able to compress anything into marbles. Both you and Bakugo were silent, the man moving forwards, “catch.”

He threw a marble, which Bakugo caught, a note being formed out due to his quirk. He leant against the wall, watching the two of you, “you both have grown.”

You ignored his mindless chatter reading the note.

‘We saw your little show,

You didn’t think it would be that easy to join us, did you?

Kill Shoto Todoroki and then we’ll know your worthy.’

Both Bakugo and you looked at each other, you looked at Mr Compress who was waiting for a response. “We’ll kill him.” You both spoke aloud a joyful grimace of your face; anybody would’ve been creeped out at how villainous the two of you had gotten in a week.

“He’s at his residence, I’ll take you there and we’ll be watching.” You both nodded, you needed to somehow tell Hawks what was going on, so they could make Todoroki somehow survive.

You walked outside of the alley, making sure to be unseen, before being pushed inside a car. You noticed the same man on the other side of the street, you recognised him from your first meeting with Hawks. Bakugo noticed as well, before you used your quirk on the man.

‘It’s Y/n, you need to call Hawks now and say they want us to kill Todoroki.’

‘Okay ma’am.’ His thoughts had been a pain to get through, but you knew he had at least got it and would tell Hawks to sort something out.

“Y/n, we know what your quirk is, wear this.” He passes you a ring with a clear diamond on top, “use your quirk.”

‘Boo.’ You shouted into Bakugo’s head, he flinched before watching as the ring turn red before a shock went onto your finger.

“What the fuck, I’m not wear…” Bakugo interrupted you by jabbing your side. “How long do I have to wear it for?”

“Just for this little thing, and then afterwards if you succeed you can take it off.” Mr compress almost gleamed at the idea of such high-tech stuff.

When did they get something that shows when a quirk was in use, “I cant use my psychokinesis then.”

“No use it, if you get shocked then you get shocked.” There was no sympathy in his tone, you huffed, your dress ripped and the strap dangling off your shoulder. You looked like you had had too much to drink which after controlling the amount of people you had, it was obvious that you were a tad bit out of it.

“We’re here.” You saw the residence of Shoto, a nice house, it was probably something Endeavor forced onto the poor boy who would rather stay away from his father. You and Shoto hanged out often even after graduating, you both were in contact, trying out new foods that you had seen on YouTube.

“Hurry up.” Bakugo muttered, he had been a lot quieter than usual, your inability to use your telepathy had made it hard for you two too even have a plan.

Both stepping outside, the frigid air hit your body, it was nearing midnight and you hoped Hawks had got your message. Todoroki hadn’t been at the event, having some other business to take care of, but as you stepped closer and closer to his door, memories flooded through of every time you had been to his house. “Let’s go through the window.” You muttered pointing to around the back.

“Don’t get us killed.” Is all Bakugo said as he followed, you used your quirk to unlock the window, a shock being sent through you. “Y/n.” Bakugo spoke cautiously.

“I’m fine.” You muttered, “come on help me up.” He put his hands down for you to use as a leg up, he tried to not look up your dress, but it was unavoidable, as you stood on the window sill, creeping inside 

Bakugo followed you both trying to not make a sound, “where is he?” Bakugo muttered.

You stopped him in his tracks as you saw Shoto sitting in his office, papers in his hands as you could see the tired boy. “What do we do?”

Bakugo didn’t speak instead going full throttle at Todoroki, his quirk out, Todoroki’s eyes widened as he witnessed the two of you. “What the fuck, you two, you two are traitors, what are you…”

Even you didn’t know if Hawks had gotten to him, his confusion was very performative. He noticed your confused look, he saw how you weren’t in his head, reading his thoughts. He gave a small nod to point out he knew, and you signed in relief.

“We have to do this; we have to kill you.” You spoke out.

Bakugo raised an eyebrow, he started to think before he noticed something on the floor. Was it gas, or oil, it was something, and it surrounded the whole house. Hawks had a plan, and yeah it might’ve taken a while to get there, you understood.

“Y/n, Bakugo, why?” Todoroki was eerily good at this performance, “after all these years you both are just throwing it away.”

“Priorities change, being a hero, there’s nothing from it.” You spoke, Bakugo’s explosions were getting bigger and bigger in his hands. He looked down and you noticed his eyeline, a trap door underneath his which you assumed would make him safe.

“You were always evil.” Todoroki finally spoke, Bakugo knew this to be a que to start.

He smirked before looking at you, “to be evil you need to have evil motivations, we just find this fun.”

He spoke a loud, you didn’t expect him to say something like this, he was getting into the character a lot better than you had expected. “You’re going to burn, Y/n suppress his quirk.” You knew you would have to and as you felt a shock run through you, you made sure his quirk was suppressed if you tried to communicate with the boy, the shocks would intensify.

Bakugo threw the explosions at the ground, an explosion about to happen, as the house began to be engulphed in flames. You grabbed the piece of dress that had been around your wrist to help with your movement and left it inside the room. Bakugo grabbed your waist, before he sent an explosion making you both fly out of the window backwards. A large boom was heard from the house as you saw the top explode.

The shocks stopped as you felt dazed and confused, Mr Compress having brought the car up. He made you both side inside, you sat side by side, as he watched intentively driving you to another destination. You took the ring off, throwing it to the side as your finger was red and bruised.

Bakugo grabbed your hand slowly and unnoticeably, ‘They were listening in, I had to say the bullshit’

‘And I thought you were just getting into it’

‘Shut up, where do you think he’s taking us?’

‘I don’t know, I hope Shoto’s okay though?’

‘Icy Hot doesn’t need you worrying’

It was the last thing Bakugo thought before removing his hands off yours, this subtle action was a sign that you wanted to talk using telepathy and it was a lot more convenient than you had thought out.

“And goodbye.” You hadn’t noticed Mr Compress stopping the car, he turned back around facing the two of you. Before he grabbed both of your shoulders, making you turn into blue spherical marbles, grabbing the two marbles, he stepped outside of the car.

Walking towards the Front’s base with you both in his pocket, he smiled hearing the TV on, it was like a show and everything was working out perfectly. He skipped along, before being met with Tomura, Dabi, Toga and Spinner were all watching a TV screen. “You got them.”

Tomura was the one to spoke, as you felt yourself re-awaken from being inside a marble. It was gross and you hated it, Bakugo looked pissed but still you both were put on wooden chairs and watched over. The Tv still blaring the news out, “seems like you two have turned sides.”

“Good, evil, there’s no difference anymore.” You muttered crossing your legs and folding your arms.

“Stoic words for a woman I saw murder countless villains.” You raised an eyebrow at Tomura.

You looked at Bakugo, who stretched his legs out watching the screen, both your faces broadcasted for Japan to see and the burnt Todoroki’s house where a member of the commission had announced him dead. “If you want me to feel sympathy, I just killed someone who was my friend, I’m far from emotional.”

“That’s what we want to hear and you Bakugo, joining us after how many years?” Bakugo looked at them with a shock.

“Five.” He blew a bit of his hair from his eyes, his battered shirt exposing his arms and abdomen, you both looked like a mess.

Tomura stood up walking towards you, you knew how easily his quirk worked and you had a fear that if all five fingers touched you, you were doomed. One of his frail fingers glided up and down your cheek. “We’re keeping her.” He mutters turning to Bakugo.

“You, we need to work on you.” Tomura points a finger at Bakugo before walking away. “We need to see if you’re worthy allies” He shouted as he walked towards the bar.

‘We have just received from the commission who have found a piece of Y/n Y/l/n’s dress inside the Todoroki house, we can assume that her and Katsuki Bakugo were the ones who murdered pro hero Shoto Todoroki, son of number one pro hero Endeavor’

“What? Sad to see your brother dead?” You spoke hesitantly breaking the sound of the news reporter to Dabi.

“Who do you think proposed the idea to make you kill him?” A laugh came from him as both you and Bakugo looked at each other.

“You both still need to prove your loyalties, but we have these.” Toga finally spoke happily, she showed you two bags that were on the floor. “They’re your clothes and hero costumes.”

“You went to our apartments.” Bakugo was almost seething knowing someone was at his place.

“Of course we had to get your stuff before the mean commission people took your stuff, Y/n, wear your costume for us.” She smiled grabbing your hand and taking the bag, “we’re going to be best of friends.”

“Umm, okay.” You got dragged along with her as Bakugo was left with the rest of the front in silence.

‘Don’t be yourself.’ You spoke inside his head.

He didn’t reply, as they had all turned to their own thing before he noticed Mr Compress looking at him. “What?”

“You have to tell me how you both pulled off that amazing performance.” The man was eager at the showmanship, he knew you’d be pissed if he didn’t try and gain their trust and he went into the long-winded story of how you both thought of the plan. It was long but Mr Compress seemed to be loving it and by the end (minus the façade part) he seemed to be in love with Bakugo and his way of thinking.

“And you thought of it all.” Mr Compress praising Bakugo was something you didn’t need to hear as you were in your hero costume glad you felt something familiarly.

“Y/n, take the sleeves off, Dabi will burn them off for you.”

“W…what?” You spoke hesitantly.

Dabi gave a what the fuck look, not wanting to burn stupid sleeves off. “It’s a sign you’re one of us, if you do it.”

“Okay.” Instead of getting Dabi to do it, you used your powers and grabbed the knife that had been behind the bar Tomura was sitting on. Slicing it through the material quickly. You now had a sleeveless hero costume minus the gloves because Toga called them ugly.

Bakugo stared at how exposed you looked, he never expected to see you like this. So impulsive without the consequences, but it was all a façade to gain their trust, that’s all you were both doing. Making friends to gain their trust and then finally destroy them from the inside.

i’d really appreciate if you guys could leave a like, reblog or comment, thanks x

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#katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x y/n #katsuki bakugo headcanons #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugou headcanons #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #mha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugo x reader #mha katsuki #katsuki bakugo fluff #katsuki bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x you #katsuki bakugo #katsuki bakugo fanfiction #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero headcanons #my hero academia x you #bakugohoex

[cosmic-lavender]

Insecure chapter 5

(Otis driftwood x Reader)

( I do not own these gifs)

Masterlist is here

Please see warnings ⚠️

Just as you were starting to drift off back to sleep, curled up on his chest and close to falling back asleep to the rhythmic breathing and light snoring you felt a wave of nausea hit you. "Oh fuck" you slowly got up and held your stomach straightening up slowly so that nausea doesn't hit you too fast and you end up throwing up all over the bed. Otis's arm slowly slinks down back onto the bed as you slide away from him to the edge of the bed, you look over and it doesn't seem to have woken him by your sudden movement. You swing  your legs over the bed and search for your house slippers as one hand holding your stomach and the other one frantically searches under the bed trying to be as quiet as possible. This room already had enough questionable smells so you were for sure going to make it to the bathroom but whether or not you wanted to walk barefoot after everything that happened last night and what was to assume to be still on the floor was another story. 

"Sugar? What are ya doing?" Finding your house slippers and slipping them onto your feet you looked up from the floor and saw your husband staring back at you still half asleep. His grainy tired voice was one of the sexiest things you've ever heard and if you weren't about to throw up all over the place you definitely would have jumped back onto the bed and on top of him. He was always attractive to you, every second of everyday but there was something about the morning he looked the sexist to you, the tired gravel of his voice, his long silver hair sprawled out on the pillow behind him and down his chest, his beautiful eyes looking over at you half-hooded; his shallow breathing causing his skull tattoo to rise and fall slowly on his exposed chest. "It's nothing. I just feel a little nauseous. Maybe we partied a little too hard last night". You got up and stretched the sun and felt good on your naked back as you reached for your house rope and tied it around you. "I'm just going to go run to the bathroom could be a false alarm could be not." "Well hurry back will ya? I need to fuck your brains out before my morning cup of Joe you know the routine Darlin" he chuckled,  "You're gonna make it hurt right?" you replied leaning back toward, your voice low and almost a whisper, this earned a dark smirk from him and a low growl from his throat,  "mmmmmhmm that's my girl" he replied, within seconds though his heavy lids fell closed again and a light snore softly started to escape from him. You rolled your eyes and smiled, he could be so crude but that was truly part of his charm. You walked over toward the bathroom, taking in the sounds of the sleepy Firefly house. Although you loved the hustle and bustle of the home when it was awake with life, you also enjoyed the little moments of solitude. Turns out it wasn't a false alarm, the moment you entered the bathroom you threw up roughly into the toilet. You wondered if maybe you had drunk too much last night, but then realized this was a different kind of nausea . 

You had felt nauseous a couple of days before this binge which made you think back to when you had your last period and then hit you that you were late... Now the idea of having children was not horrible to you but it was not expected because your husband wants significantly older than you but it appears possibly he still has some strong swimmers. You made a mental note later to run down to the drugstore and get a pregnancy test. Wiping your mouth, you flush the toilet and headed back towards the bedroom You figured that you could mention this to him later I mean you weren't even sure so why bring it up right now especially when he looks so comfortable sleeping, You were just about to crawl back into bed when that's when you heard it It was a rumble like a low rumble somewhere coming from the east. curiosity got the best of you so you grabbed your binoculars and you headed up towards the roof to your special spot that you and Otis would go to when you would have your late-night talks. From here you could see the whole town very hauntingly beautiful as the sun setting. The person who found out about your hideaway was Baby who  figured out how to get up there one day from wondering where you two had disappeared. It was almost like a crawl space that had a ladder that went up to the ceiling then opened onto the roof. 

Getting to the door and pushing it open, you cursed silently at the sun which burned your eyes. You didn't realize how bright it was considering the fact the house is usually kept so dark. Hoisting yourself up onto the roof You got into a comfortable seated position to take a look at what the rumbling could be perhaps, a tornado was coming? but there was no tornado siren. Putting the binoculars up to your eyes he looks towards the direction the sound was coming and that's when you saw it... The magnitude of cars racing towards you, the sirens, and the SWAT team trucks. And that's when it hit you that it was time to flee, the moment he had warned you about. Otis had warned you about the possibility of this happening, that this perfect utopia that you had created with yourselves could someday come crashing down when the world decided that it wanted to push back. You just didn't think it would happen so soon. It had been a year and a half since the murder of Sheriff Wydell and maybe it was silly for you to think that you all had gotten away with it. Turning on your heels you scurried back down into the house screaming at the top of your lungs " everyone gets up they're coming!!! Get up now !! ", You ran past Baby's room pounding on the door." What the fuck y/n it's like eleven and … " WE HAVE TO GO OR DO SOMETHING THE COPS THE SWAT I DON'T KNOW PEOPLE ARE COMING AND AND AND " " oh God I gotta wake mama " she rushes past you toward her mom's room as you back toward Otis, you burst into your bedroom and threw on the closest underwear and dress you could find along with your combat boots. Otis shot up out of bed throwing on his jeans `` what are you yammering about? Who’s coming? " " The cops the army somebody" you screamed all the sudden stress made you feel like you were going to throw up again you grabbed your stomach and hunched over. " Darlin Darlin what's wrong? we gotta get moving" worry spread over his face at seeing you get so pale all of a sudden. "I'm sorry Otis I don't know what's wrong" he walked hastily over to you lifting you and gesturing you toward the door. " I'm sorry mama we gotta move though". Hand on the small of your back he apologetically rushed you out the door and towards the stairs. He called to his family to hurry the fuck up and you heard the scrambling and yelling of commotion and chaos downstairs. 

The entire house with utter disarray of people running everywhere guns being grabbed screaming it was overwhelming. You knew the routine though you knew that we were going to grab what we could grab any evidence we could find like pictures and writings items we had tried to keep everything in one section of the house in case something like this had happened we would have burned it but we did not expect to be sideswiped this bad. You started grabbing any kind of clothes that you could and running outside to your car. You popped open the trunk of your 1970 mustang and just started throwing things inside. You had grabbed a good chunk of the boxes of incriminating evidence when you turned around and saw Otis running out to you. " okay so I grabbed the boxes that I could I grab some clothes and I don't know what else to grab how come you don't have anything where's everybody else are they going in the truck are we going where are we going Wait I know where we're going I just I don't know" You felt your anxiety rise and you started to shake and stutter This is all happening so fast Even though you knew the plan you couldn't think of it at the moment your mind was swimming and your vision was becoming tunneled. Your husband walked over to you towering over you grabbing your face in his hands. " Y/n  I need you to breathe for me I need you to calm the fuck down" he was breathing heavily still shirtless his blue eyes wide with panic. your head was spinning and you felt like this couldn't be real You're happy life that you had found here seemed to be coming crashing around you. You never really had a family. You never really had friends. You were always the weird kid in school nobody seemed to like because you were always fascinated with morbid things. It wasn't until you had become friends with Baby and started hanging around the firefly house that you started to feel like you had a family. They saved you from having an inattentive father. You could have ended up anywhere out here in the rural wilderness of Texas but they gave you a place to be yourself. " Ok I'm sorry I … I " tears started to sting your eyes, you blinked them away and took a deep breath, you knew you had to be strong for him he needed you to be. "I'm ok. I got most of the stuff in the car. Where're your clothes, Baby and the others coming with us or taking the other truck?" You looked over behind him as he lowered his hands from your face and took your hands in his, you looked behind him and you saw your sister in the door briefly with a gun in hand and sad eyes, then it clicked that they weren't coming with you... That's when your panic and sadness turned to anger, you felt the rage bubbling in your stomach and you became deaf to the words he was saying to you and it wasn't until he snapped "HEY ARE YOU FUCKING LISTENING Y/N THIS SHIT IS IMPORTANT GOD DAMNMIT". You turned your head back to him " now we ain't got much time mama I need to know you understand… " " I understand your abandoning me why what happened what did I do I don't get it do you not love me I thought we were a team I thought we were family" your hand started to shake again but this time you didn't allow him to hold you you backed away from him tear streaming down your face now You can hear the sirens coming louder This was all becoming too much.

 "Mama's listen to me I need you to go on ahead like the plan said don't you remember the plan I know you do we talked about it stop acting like this" he straightened up now and walked closer to you backing you against the car. Your lips started quivering and shaky voice cracking with every other word " I can't do this without you I can't do this without you guys You're my family I don't know I'm scared I'm not going alone I'm not doing this without you" " YES THE FUCK YOU ARE " at this point, his patience had run out and he slammed the hood of the car with his hand " I am your damn husband you will listen to me woman!" “i'm scared” you whispered “ I am scared that i'll go so far and you won't follow, you won't find me” He grabbed your hand and turned it over, showing the matching scar from your wedding day "our bodies come and go but this blood... is forever, when you opened your palm and I opened mine and we held hands and our blood flowed into each other's bodies that bonded us forever, I will always find you you understand me?" He grabbed the back of your head and pulled you toward him with your lips still shaking and your face wet with tears, " you are mine forever you belong to me y/n, now I need you to go, Darlin, NOW don't make me tell you again" he pulled back and stared at you with wild frustrated eyes, you could tell he was trying to remain calm but his heart was racing. You shook yourself out of your sad trance and wrapped your arms around his neck. He wrapped one long arm around your waist and kissed you back hard and roughly. He took his other hand and touched your cheek " it's gonna be alright mama's " " I love you my diablo " " I love you kitten". 

Reluctantly you parted ways, He released his grip on you and hurried back to the house grabbing a shotgun by the back door on the way. You jumped into the driver's seat of your car stepping on the gas and accelerated the opposite way of the house. Dirt kicked up in a cloud as you sped down the dirt path toward the main road. The radio started and Fleetwood mac's "the chain" flowed through the speakers 

Listen to the wind blow

Watch the sunrise

Run in the shadows

Damn your love

Damn your lies

Your eyes filled with tears again as you looked back behind you towards the house feeling as though you were abandoning your family. You wanted to scream, you wanted to cry but you knew you couldn't. 

And if you don't love me now

You will never love me again

I can still hear you saying

You would never break the chain

You had to be strong for them. You had to be strong for him. One hand on the steering wheel, your other hand wiping your tears that feel as you tried to steady your breathing.  You had to be strong, you had to go on. 

Chain, keep us together

Running in the shadows.

#otis driftwood #otis driftwood x reader #otis firefly #house of 1000 corpses #the devils rejects #three from hell

[madmadmilk]

yes yes for a spoiler-free review!! I was going to read the book but never got the time, lmk how it is. I love true crime but I know there's a *cough* LOT of warnings in this movie, so please lmk!! <3

ok! this is gonna be my spoiler-free, just scratching the surface partial review of “The Devil All The Time” (2020) !! :

short note: i really came into this movie knowing nothing except that it was “dark.” and after a full watch through, yes, it was definitely grim. but,,, not as nearly as [visually] horrifying as i thought it would be (take that as you will). that being said, we all have different levels of visual and mental tolerance, so look out for yourself! there is literally a trigger every step of the way, so i urge you to do a bit of research beforehand.

i’ll just cover the surface level of these categories as a friend to another friend. it’s up to you to assess it for yourself!! truthfully idk i’m still digesting if i “liked” it? it was just an interesting display of acting and characterization to me lol. btw slight and non-specific spoilers ahead:

 🌿 plot: pretty straight forward, even jumping back and forth through time and location. the story follows fucked up people fucking up other people’s fucked up lives, intentionally or not. paths intersect in more ways than one, and you watch it unfold in quiet displeasure and suspense. it’s the kind of movie where /you/ don’t really relate or latch onto any of the characters, instead you are on a taken on a tour of their mounting distress, unable to do anything to guide or comfort them (or yourself).

🌿 imagery: i really liked the grainy texture over the film and how ‘washed’ out the clothing and town was lol. idk it’s charming to me in a ‘unsettling, middle-of-nowhere-in-the-american-south-mid-west-ish”lol. loved the way they dressed and how it reflected on each character, the way that their hair was never quite pristine. the pastors goddamn ruffle shirt, arvin’s stiff denim clothing and hat to hide his face, the cop zipping up his jacket, the women’s modest dress–– ha ha. i was thankful that a lot of the violence happened during wide shots, or were partially covered. but i always wish for tighter close-ups during dialogue lol, like waay up there. but yeah, overall–– tasteful? maybe? if you watch/listen to a lot of true-crime i think that the depictions are not far off.

🌿 the triggers/warnings: lol there’s a lot. like literally one every few steps into the movie. idk if i can list them all here, and u should definitely look up a more comprehensive list than what i can say here. but a lot of the physical violence is partially obscured or taken at a wideshot. it just so happens that a lot of the time, ‘the faces’ of the person are covered. the actual pans to “gore” is not gratuitous, apart from 2 scenes where my eyes were already focused elsewhere. BUT the sexual violence does creep in there quite boldly. it may just be me, but that really sticks with me, whether is verbally or physically represented. There’s also of sexual horror/gore depicted in the mix too, so brace yourself for that. horrible suggestions, religious fanaticism... everything you can imagine is there. so, be careful if you follow through. i’m just here to say that the camera and characters to do not linger on violence for very long. you are not forced to stare, you are only shown a glimpse of the horror. (the shock value of even seeing/thinking about it for a second is enough)

🌿 “the major take-away”: [SLIGHT SPOILER] ?? i’m still trying to figure out how i feel about this movie lol. i think what i take away from this is that all the characters in this story just woefully accept the life that the live, and accept the violence they give and receive without resistance. it doesn’t suggest ‘changing your life for the better’, or anything idealistic like that, they just are. they just do. it’s just.... keep going to you go. (i’m pretty sure the line is “some people are born just to be buried” lol) and THE WAY that we don’t get many explanations of Why They Do What They Do.... kinda love that. some people... are just Like That, and the movie lets you understand that. but yeah. please let me know if you have a greater takeaway than i do

🌿 post-watch thoughts: lol kinda wish this were a 4 episode series or something, and i kinda wanna read the book now. i enjoyed the several stories mashing together and the brief time we spent with them. it was like a lil peak into a huuuuuge story that none of the characters would ever know. but!! it would be cool to see some reasoning or fallout. ––it felt like reading a book tbh, i could feel the chapters. so yeah! i’m not sure if i would recommend this to anyone?? but i might watch it again at night time some time to really get the feel lol

please feel free to share your thoughts with me! and if you have any questions, i can help ya! watch carefully!

#littlebookbengal #tdatt #tdatt spoilers #the devil all the time #the devil all the time spoilers #spoilers #tw #tw violence #personal #madmadmilk #madwatch #long post

[likeamourningglory]

Chapter Seven

Pairings: BTS×Reader, Secret Yandere!×Reader

Warnings: Contains mentions of blood, death, gore, stalking, obsessive behaviour, yandere character and mature content. Please read at your own risk.

Words: 1.5k

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“Ah, back again so soon? I wish we didn’t have to keep meeting like this,” Officer Jeon sighed, standing, slim fingers fiddling with the wrist cuffs of his white button-up— crisp and impeccable, not a single wrinkle in sight, you thought. It was almost scary how put-together he looked; clean-cut to the point of intimidating.

“Do you know why you’re here?”

He didn’t sit down, hands firmly placed on either side of the table. A hulking figure looming over you, and despite the barrier, you felt small— so small under his heavy scrutiny, those judging eyes glinting with the cruel edge of justice.

You prided yourself in your strength, in matters of the mind and the heart; there were only a handful of moments in your life when you felt helpless— but this… this meticulously, painstakingly picked apart your carefully crafted illusion of control.

Your rabbit heart raced within your chest, blood rushing, roaring loud in your ears. It beat hummingbird fast, a hard thump thump thump that carved its presence into your very being, knife sharp. The hot blood in your veins were frozen with winter, the creeping frost numbing every corner in the Arctic tundra of this crushing fear.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t even breathe. Not in this agonizing cold— lips blue, bones snapping like flimsy twigs. Powerless, ripped of control.

Swallowing, mouth dry, you took in a shuddering breath, shoulders trembling with the motion. You played with a loose thread at the hem of your skirt, pulling and pulling; it unraveled at the seams, falling apart at the mercy of your fingertips— a idleness borne from a restless anxiety.

“I don’t— I’m not really sure,” you muttered, syllables escaping in a shaky breath, a soft and near inaudible hush.

Officer Jeon slammed his hand down, a loud smack of an open palm against the wooden surface. The desk trembled, protesting under the abuse. You flinched back.

“You see this?” He tapped his finger solidly on an unassuming paper file, the gruesome contents splayed out like the massacred body, limbs askew, blood pooling in an ocean of red. Your gaze flickered down involuntarily, catching sight of the continuous, awful nightmare plaguing your every waking moment.

Bile rose in your throat, acid burning you from the inside out, but you only swallowed down the poison, the sour bitterness. Little tremors wracked your body, running in a cascade of spider legs down your spine. It’s like you were constantly on the vibration setting of a cellphone.

You were a fucking cellphone, you thought, hysteria bubbling inside your stomach in an overflowing cauldron— a churning, nauseating mess of bright, psychedelic colors, questionable to the eye and even more so to the mind. A mere device to be used and tossed away once defective.

“Someone was murdered at this time and place—,” Officer Jeon said, sliding a sheet of paper in front of you. Your eyes stared blankly at the swimming words, not quite processing them.

“We have CCTV cameras on this street,” he continued, flipping through the folder casually, pulling out a few printed photos. Grainy pictures of the cafe, two figures huddled close, their faces not quite discernible due to the distance and lighting.

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach— dread piling in thick, black ooze, clumping in ugly masses and clogging your arteries with disgusting dregs.

“Is this you,” he asked, already aware of the answer, cocking an expectant eyebrow. You gave a small, meek nod. “Can I get a verbal confirmation? Murder is a serious business, after all. Wouldn’t want any mix-up.”

Officer Jeon gave a grim smile that you couldn’t return, only mustering up a halfhearted smile, weak and quivering. Your breath left you in a whoosh, gaze staring down at your fisted hands.

“Yes, that’s me.”

He only hummed, unsurprised, tapping the top of his pen against the wooden surface of the table, a steady tapping that rang like a gavel in the silence— the hammering of nails sealing your coffin shut.

“And what were you doing so late at night?”

“I was meeting up with a friend.”

“At a cafe when it was well past closing time?” His voice was dubious, not only ready to poke holes through your reasonings, but to completely tear them to shreds.

“He works at the cafe, and we were planning to just hang out for a bit,” you tried to explain.

Officer Jeon released an explosive sigh, leaning back in his seat. Carding his fingers through dark curls, he stared at you, a hardness in his gaze. “Listen, three people entered this alley, but only two came out. It’s my job to catch the culprit, to catch whoever did this,” he said, gesturing at the papers. “And I’ll be honest with you— as someone who is connected to not just one murder, but two? You’re not looking so great.”

“Please, Officer— I didn’t do any of this! You have to believe me, I would never kill someone. I was only meeting up with a friend,” you insisted, tears stinging your eyes at the unfairness of it all.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t meet up with your friends anymore,” he offered with a sardonic smile, a cruel expression on his otherwise handsome face. You forced back the tears, unwilling to cry— not here, not until you were alone.

“You know what they say? What the other officers tell me?” He didn’t wait, leaning forward with a gleam in his eyes. “That you’re the one who killed them.”

Your breath hitched, and you immediately denied it.

“That a murderer hides behind that sweet face,” Officer Jeon continued, words a delighted croon in the face of your turmoil.

You shook your head furiously, nails digging into your skin through the material of your skirt.

“Maybe you lured that poor man into the alley.”

“No, I didn’t, I swear—.”

“What were you hoping to gain, hmm? Money? Or do you just get a sick thrill over killing someone? Of having them on your knees, begging for their lives?”

“Please—.”

“Did you like hearing him scream, Y/N? Did you like the feeling of his blood on your hands as the life slowly drained from his—.”

“I didn’t do it!” You screamed, chest heaving, hands over your ears as if they could block away those accusing words.

“He grabbed me, pulled me into the alley— I don’t know what he wanted, and I don’t want to know what he would have done. But I never even thought about killing him.” And despite your breathy voice, syllables strained under distress, there was steel in your words. “I was scared, so scared. But Yoongi saved me, and—.”

“Yoongi? Min Yoongi?”

You shut your mouth with an audible click, but nodded slowly, hesitantly. Guilt hung over you in a thundering storm cloud, and you crossed your arms over your chest, protecting yourself— from the outside world, from everything.

Officer Jeon tilted his head, an unreadable expression on his face, eyes dark and dangerous. You wanted nothing more than to leave, cold and clammy in your seat. And like some divine deity was finally listening, he dismissed you.

“I think we’re done here for the day,” he said absently, a faraway tone to his voice.

You stood on shaky legs, nearly crying in relief. Muttering a farewell, you strode to the door, ready to leave and erase the proceedings from your memory when—

“Oh, and Y/N? We’ll keep in touch.”

You shuddered at those words, a warning, a threat— you bit down hard on your bottom lip at the implications. Yanking the door open, you left without a backwards glance. Head held high, you strutted out of the police station; a confidence painted on your features that didn’t mirror the broken person inside the interrogation room.

You were a strong person, you reminded yourself, hiding the quiver in your lips. You made it just around the corner before you collapsed on the ground, knees hitting the cement with a painful thud. You sat with your back against the brick of a wall, lungs struggling to take in each painful breath, panic clawing at your chest. Closing your eyes, you tried to force your breathing to slow, counting. Inhale, exhale.

Inhale, exhale.

It could have been hours, it could have been a few minutes; you didn’t know how long you were sitting on the sidewalk. But it was pathetic, /you/ were pathetic. You chuckled bitterly, shaking your head. Everything was a fucking shitstorm. And just when you thought you could catch a break— that something good happened for once, meeting Yoongi, spending the day with Taehyung… inevitably, it spiraled down to this.

Everything always went wrong.

And now, you shifted the blame to poor, unsuspecting Yoongi— what kind of monster, were you. How could you do that to him?

You were going to succumb to madness, this chaos mere seconds away from driving you insane. And you didn’t know if you were strong enough to stop it.

———————————————————

Taglist:  @vannilacake @blackpanther4550 @xsunnyhoseokx @amiraclerenee @nooooooooona

This is a collab with @girlmeetsliv3 @sevenincubistolemyheart @jooniescupcakes @junglekookbook @smileyoongle @seven-souls

I’ll be adding the previous chapters to my (soon to be made) masterlist soon. 

#bts #bts angst #yandere bts imagine #yandere bts #yanderexreader #bts imagines #btsxreader #yandere au

[tgrbild]

                      WILDSUIT’S   200+   BIAS   LIST !!!

ooc.   hey guuuuys!! i’m proud to say that i finally hit 200 followers on kotetsu! i sure wish i knew why or how you’re all here. regardless, it’s nice to have this many people! && i feel like it’d only be right to thank the many people i follow that helped me get here. before i go into this list, though, i want everyone to know that JUST because you may not be on this list doesn’t mean that i don’t like you, i’m just a forgetful person! you’re still very special to me, even if i don’t mention you on here.  ( also.........excuse the. very grainy look of the gif. i hate gifs.) alright, let’s get into it!

THOSE WHO ARE NEAR MY HEART. ❤

@bopnty​: jimjam, when i first thought of making this promo, you were, admittedly, the first that popped into my head. you have been nothing but sweet and kind to me, you have given me your utmost support, and you and i have both given each other mile long replies about our characters. to me, you are a very special friend that deserves and has sufficiently earned their place on this list. i have no idea where i’d probably be on kotetsu’s character if it weren’t for you. talking deeply with you about the anime we watch and how deep kotetsu and spike’s relationship is has always been fun with you? like. i don’t know how to put it into words, but talking with you about everything and anything is so much fun. you get me, and i think that that’s what truly makes me see the warmth that resonates within you. you’re no longer just “that one spike spiegel blog,” you’ve become “the ONLY spike spiegel blog” for me. beyond your writing abilities, you’re a lovely person that i’m so glad to have met and gotten to know. i hope that, no matter what, we’re still able to talk even when we’re dying. thank you so much for introducing me to CBBB, because it was the wildest ride i’ve ever had, and i love seeing you talk about spike and the bebop crew. hope you have an amazing day!

@icesuit​: kat! you have been with me since my fire emblem days, and if i remember correctly, that was like legit a year and a half ago. we’re still friends, in spite of everything! it really just comes to show how powerful our friendship is. anyway, look, i really want you to know that i love the way you write blue rose. i love the fact that, in spite of watching only a portion of T&B, you’ve managed to capture her character so accurately, i almost call you blue rose or karina from time to time! your writing is very inspirational and elegant, and i always take a read at it to get inspired. every character you play, you’ve played amazingly, and i hope we can continue to interact. i want you to know that if there’s absolutely anything i could do for you, never hesitate to ask. i’d be more than happy to help!

@bunsuit​: QUIN!!! you’re honestly my... #1 bunny? you’ve constantly talked w/ me abt T&B and you honestly write barnaby so well im so impressed all of the time? we just recently met, but talking to you feels like i’ve spoken with you for ages. i enjoy any time i’m able to talk to you, because no matter what, each conversation is lovelier than the last. i love listening to what you have to say? and i love talking about kotetsu and barnaby with you? watching the T&B movie with you and cole was the start of our friendship, and truth be told, i’ve come to cherish it. you’re very kind, and your writing abilities are beyond incredible. i hope that we can talk a lot more in the future! i love you a whole lots, quin!!

@skysuit​: if it isn’t what the kids call...................cole ;) ; J;DKLF ;DLJ HI COLE!!! I REALLY LOVE YOU A LOT TOO every conversation with you is so wild like. holy shit? we’ve talked about kotetsu and keith and kotetsu’s like drunk and keith wants to die like. truly? we know what the fuck is going on. FUCK I KNOW YOU SINCE LIKE the fire emblem fandom too, and then i went on to ace attorney and saw you there too?? i love you like, you’re really funny and great to interact with. also, you enabled me to make my retinz blog what the fuck? like damn what an enabler :/ LISTEN BABE DF G;FJ;D I LOVE U UR TOO KIND TO ME HONESTLY?? you were the one who helped me choose the right gif and who else can i thank but you for that?

@bisonsuit​: OH SHIT IT’S SHIGURE!!! shig when you made rock bison i was honestly? crytyping because i never thought that someone would make kotetsu’s best friend. i never thought that i’d have this entire squad to begin with!! talking with you is very fun, and i love both of the threads that we have going on. i always feel like you’re doing a great job at writing antonio, and i love our rps on discord bc they’re fun too?? i really have to reply now that i think about it oops /// but hey, forget that for now! the point is, i love you and i love your writing! thank you so much for making a lot of fun for me, you’re another quintessential part of my life here!

@copysuit​: DESSIIIIIII AAAAAAAAA YOU WERE ONE OF THE FIRST T&B RPERS I HAD CONTACT WITH ON HERE!! we don’t talk as much as we used to, but talking to you, when possible, is so great! i really love the way you write kaede. i feel like you capture her perfectly while also managing to keep things as unique as possible. i hope that you have an amazing day, and that we’re able to rp soon!

@wiildfan​: QUEENIEEEEE YOU’RE THE TIGER WIFE THAT I LOVE SO MUCH! when you made tomoe, i, admittedly, was so afraid because Lord it’s kotetsu’s wife? that he loves oh so very much? fjk dl;fjk you’ve done an amazing job w/ tomoe, and im so glad that it’s you who’s writing her and not anyone else? your tomoe has been very inspiring and cute, and i hope to see more of her in the future!! even if there’s small content for her, i love the fact that you manage to keep the essence of her character intact like please.......step on me?

@heroproduced​: KOKO??? FUCK. PLEASE STEP ON ME. i’ve known you from danganronpa but god i can’t lie when i say that like. i love your passion for agnes and her character? i love how you manage to go deeper than what is presented to us in the series, and give a more rich and developed understanding of her. you manage to show that she’s not just some bitch, but she’s a woman in the 1970s trying to fucking do a good job because that was a time where women having this type of position was rare. i love the way you talk about her, and i love the way you treat others? you’re literally THE mom friend, koko. im so glad that we’re friends!!

@homosinger​: GOD...IT’S ANTHONY. you’re probably the guy that made me make a crack tag on this blog. but tbh? THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING!! you’ve made rping a really fun experience, and talking to you OOC is always really great and fun. I DON’T HAVE MUCH TO SAY HERE BC U KNOW HOW I FEEL ABT YOU??? I LOVE YOU SO MUCH DUDE PLZ NEVER CHANGE!!

@wildsuit​: literally who the fuck are you

THOSE WILD ROARS I LOVE JUST AS MUCH. ✫

this section is for all the people who i don’t really speak to as much (or at all), but you are still just as important in my heart. i love all of you very much, and i will continue to follow you all for your amazing blogs and writing!!

@kyoukokiwigiri​ / @kigajesuta​ / @shushc​ / @diamondkaito​ / @inviai​ / @military-shop-untouchable​ / @insurpasse​ / @pantherdyne​ / @beautiihurts​ / @godschose​ / @thievinggentleman​ / @gravitiprince​ / @samurai-esquire​ / @vitiicsus​ / @bluerrxse​ / @pyoniumyankee​ / @yosuru​ / @yamiisha​ / @divinecock​ / @qrowned​ / @rosalithe​ / @pescaprincipessa​ / @shogekiha​ / @ideaofjustice​ / @naruthot​ / @softgenius​ / @thornsong​ / @redriict​ / @vocaead​ / @licnelle​ / @warriorcrown​ / @froghopped​ / @intercosmiic​ / @blackdogbeat​ / @4thhacker​ / @dadmighty​ / @slitends​ / @sweaterquccn​ / @starbooms​ / @edbopped​ / @bludcmon​ / @hardluckfaye​ / @greenroar​ / @vcngful​ / @empowcred​ / @emperorled​ / @freedomfallen / @mightyfrail / @prevvasilyevna / @501di3r76 / @rockinriot

thank you all for being here!!!

#follow forever / #i loooove you guys so much!!! #you all mean a lot to me && i thank you from the bottom of my heart for being here with me. i wouldn't have it any other way!

[cazzylimerence]

LONG PERSONAL POST

(I’d like it if someone read this at some point ever . . . Be nice to know there’s another planet out there in this vast, black galaxy of mine)

. . .

I don’t like posting personal stuff on here. But I legitimately don’t feel like I’ve got anybody else to talk to.

First off, I am depressed. Intensely depressed. Like, Picasso’s Blue Period depressed. And I don’t know if it’s hormones, brain chemistry, or my living situation – which, on the outside doesn’t appear to be that bad, but to me, is in fact DEEPLY unsatisfying.

Here’s the deets, for any of you reading (and/or giving a shit):

I moved this year to a new city, got myself a new job – the same as before. Working in advertising as a motion graphic designer. It was my hope to find more engaging work for hirer pay. Instead, I think I got swindled on the pay, and the work is absolutely soul-crushing. It’s the type of work that kills my artistic drive and makes me feel like I’m wasting my life. We’re talking “utterly pointless, throwing eight hours (ten if you count fucking traffic) into a trash-can every fucking day” bad. I mean it’s boring, repetitive, and annoying.

What do I DO at work you ask? Well, basically, I build shitty low-quality TV commercials all day. And not the glamorous type, either. The “Sal’s auto parts”, “Vicky’s Salon, “ Pete’s Pizza” type of commercials (SSDD) – and the clients are awful. They want shitty powerpoint presentations with grainy photos of fucking dogs instead of actual, engaging, colorful designs that draw attention. And I, with my BA in Visual Communications, my Masters in Computer Animation, and my 5 1/2 fucking years of Agency Experience (where I actually worked with not-for-profit clients and felt like I was contributing to something) have to produce these POS commercials the way these awful clients want them produce. I.E. badly. So, like, too much text on the end screen, terrible photos, ugly color scheme, lame cross dissolves, etc, etc.

Sometimes I can ignore how bad this makes me feel. How useless and wasted it means I am. I mean, I grew up wanting to be an animator for Walt Disney for fucks sake. I grew up wanting to tell stories! Now look at me! Churning out cookie-cutter :15s-:30s TV spots for a company that has no idea how to operate coherently. 

Sometimes I distract myself with music, or TV shows, or books, or audiobooks, or films. Other times I try obsessing over an actor, or writing my crummy little fan fictions that I feel like nobody reads or comments on anymore.

But it’s always the same. In the end, I ALWAYS go back to feeling depressed.

And what’s worse, my husband – (disclaimer: I love the guy a ton) – is just as bad. As in, he’s just as depressed. Maybe even worse than I am. In fact, it’s gotten so bad lately that I’ve started actively worrying about suicide risk with him.

So I can’t be the unhappy one in the marriage because he already is, and ONE of us as to be the rock, don’t they? And yes, that’s an awful, scummy, selfish way of looking at it. But that’s how I feel. I don’t resent him, not really. I just feel like I’m not allowed to be sad because, well, he’s got it worse – plus, he’s an immigrant, and he literally has no one to talk to (well, unless he wants to Skype, but the time difference is so severe he’s never really able to).  

To recap: I’m depressed, and I can’t talk to my husband about it. And I can’t talk to my mom, either because she has a heart condition and I don’t want to stress her out. I can’t talk to my dad because he’s turning 60 and he just wants to fucking retire and be done with the “grunt work / labor ant / rat race” routine that he’s had to put up with for his whole insignificant little working-class life. I can’t talk to my sister because she’s an artist in Boston, has a brilliant soul-invigorating job and just started a new relationship with a nice, financially stable guy (or so I’m told). I can’t talk to my brothers because they’re in a band and they only ever text me to help them with logo work for their album covers. And I can’t talk to my friends because I left them in another fucking city – and oh yeah, I’M SOCIALLY AWKWARD AS FUCK. I can’t really ever start a conversation, let alone THIS conversation, with them and when I think about trying to I remind myself how long it’s been and just wind up guilting myself into silence again.

So yeah. Part of me thinks this is not a big deal. Like, it’s not so bad. I’m happy some of the time. And other folks have it worse.

But MAN ALIVE, when I’m NOT HAPPY? Like, HOLY FUCK. It’s AWFUL. Because I still have to function.

I still have to go to my shit job and provide for my sad husband. And I have to fake a smile through all of it.

And when I go to do something meaningful, something I enjoy, or used to enjoy, like writing, or painting, I have no drive left. I just feel like - what’s the point? No one reads my stories, and no one will want to. Paint something? Well that just takes too much effort (I mean I gotta set the paints out and the canvas and set everything up, ugh fuck that).

What’s that you say? Join a gym? Drink water? Eat healthy? Take vitamins?

Well, I do drink water, and take vitamins. And I do try to eat healthy, as best I can given my budget. As for joining a gym, that takes time and more importantly energy - energy I just don’t seem to have anymore. And yes, I know I have to expend energy to make energy. But honestly? I already cover the few small hours I’m not in the fucking office like a dragon hoarding it’s treasure. I don’t want to give up the only free time I have to go to a place that smells of sweat and awkwardness only to have odd men gawk at my lack of decent gym clothes – or self esteem.

And yes, I could jog around the block but my neighborhood is sketch central in the summer and an ice berg in the winter and again, time and energy.

Also, I’m going to be 30 next year. And 10 years after that, I’ll be 40 – 

–which, as you all know, is the cut-off-date for attractiveness and purpose in a woman. I mean, at 40 you don’t look good and you can’t have kids, right? So why try anything after that? (I’m being sarcastic here, in case you didn’t realize . . .)

I’ve tried looking for other jobs, but there’s really no other jobs around here that appeal in a ‘won’t also crush my soul’ kind of way, and I don’t know how to cross the gasp from advertising into another field. I do know this, however –

I don’t want to be where I am. I don’t want to be in advertising anymore. I don’t want to feel empty and pointless.

I WANT TO WRITE.

I WANT TO ACT. I’d love to voice-act, but I can’t come up with my own project (see above for reasons why).

I WANT TO COLLABORATE WITH SOMEONE. I want to find that creative partner who sparks a fire me, and who I spark a fire in too. I want someone to talk to about crazy creative project ideas at 1am, someone to try stuff with, someone to motivate me and inspire me. A muse to surpass all muses.

But most importantly I WANT TO CREATE AGAIN AND FEEL HAPPY, LIKE I’M CONTRIBUTING SOMETHING to SOMEONE, SOMEWHERE!!!!!

But instead . . . I am alone. Utterly alone. (At least, that’s how I feel right now, anyway.)

Here’s hoping this transmission reaches someone. And if it does, here’s hoping that someone wants to talk, too. I could use a friend.

#personal #personal shit #depression #sad #sadness #emotion #emptiness