You clearly don’t know who you’re talking to, so let me clue you in. I am not in danger, Skyler. I am the danger. A guy opens his door and gets shot, and you think that of me? No! I am the one who knocks!
Warnings: there’s like one curse word and also abs still not doing this right
You rocked back and forth on your heels, hands gripping the manila folder your father had given to you to deliver to the Andrews’ house. You had knocked a moment ago, but there was no one who seemed to be coming, so you reached forward to knock again when the door swung open just as your fist met the wood.
Slowly lowering your knocking hand, you looked up to find Archie Andrews standing in the doorway, a towel wrapped around his waist and droplets of water falling from strands of his soaked red hair.
“Hi!” He grinned awkwardly, looking at you strangely. “Y/N.”
Trying your hardest to keep your eyes on his eyes and not his abs, you nodded stiffly. “Archie, hey.” You had not felt this uncomfortable in ages, suddenly finding the boy you had made a painting with once in the first grade one of the most attractive people you’d seen in months. You shook your head to rid yourself of these thoughts, thrusting your hand with the folder forward. “Sorry, this is from my dad, for your dad.”
“Right, he had said your dad would be dropping something off.”
You raised your eyebrows a tad, “He uh, got caught up in something. Told me to shuttle it over.”
“Well, thank you.” He took the folder from your hand.
“See you around.” You spun on your heel, but quickly turned your head over your shoulder as he cleared his throat.
“Um, sorry if I’m overstepping my boundaries but… I’ve heard you know a lot about music.” At your confused face he stuttered over his words even more, “From Ms. Grundy! Ms. Grundy told me she didn’t really have the time to tutor me, but that there were some people I could talk to if I was really interested.”
“You make music?” You cocked your head. “I didn’t know that.”
“Yeah, well… I just started. I wrote some songs this summer and I think it’s what I want to do for the rest of my life.” You smiled.
“Well.” You shrugged. “If you want someone to help you out, I’m totally down with it.”
“Great!” He grinned, and it made you happy how he didn’t try to mask his excitement. Too many guys in your life wouldn’t allow themselves to be seen in this sort of an excited state, but Archie had no worries. “Are you free now? I me-mean we don’t have to. Whenever you’re comfortable.”
You let out a breathy laugh now, “Yeah. Yeah I’m free now.” Your eyes suspiciously bounced from his eyes to his towel around his waist.
“Oh, yeah, I should probably change.” Once he did, he grabbed his guitar and sat with you on the porch.
“Oh, my god. Your guitar is gorgeous.” Your eyes wide in awe at his guitar made him giggle, handing the instrument over to you. “I can’t believe I’m holding something this beautiful.” Archie stared at your nimble fingers on the strings as you began to pluck some seemingly random pattern out of your head.
“How long have you been playing?” He asked, interrupting your little moment.
“A few years,” your eyes stayed glued on your hand wrapped around the neck of the guitar. “You?”
“A few months,” he laughed.
“You’ll get here. It’ll feel like nothing in no time,” you assured him, handing the guitar back. “So are you gonna play your songs for me, or what?”
For the following hour or so, you and Archie went over his songs. Of course, you were thoroughly impressed by his natural knack for songwriting, and for someone you hadn’t really known all that well, you two got along very well.
“Hey Arch-” You both looked up sharply to see Fred Andrews standing in the doorway, a wide grin on his face at the sight of you two. “Ah, your dad said you’d be here. Thank you for dropping off the papers, Y/N.”
“No problem,” you smiled.
“What are you guys working on?”
“Just my music.” Archie answered, gesturing to you. “Y/N’s helping me.”
Fred nodded, a happiness in his eyes. “Well thanks for that too, Y/N.” You nodded, looking down to the sheets of chords and lyrics in front of you. With your eyes off of him, Fred sent a wink in his son’s direction. Archie flushed red, shooing him away before looking to you.
“He’s thanking you, and I haven’t even yet,” Archie teased, “Thank you.”
You didn’t even look up from what you were working on. “No, really it’s no problem.”
“Okay, well it means a lot to me,” he sighed. “You’re really doing a lot for me, and we don’t even really know each other.”
“Well, you’re not wrong,” you gulped, “However we made some nice ass paintings in the first grade.” He laughed, shaking his head.
“Yeah, we did.” It was quiet for a few moments. “I want to.” You looked up, confused. “I want to know you.”
“Well I don’t have to be home until ten,” you trailed off.
Archie smiled. “Well then, in that case… can I take you out for a milkshake?”
Reminder that apparently Alec was the only Shadowhunter brought up with some fucking manners, because he’s the ONLY one who knocks and waits for Magnus to open the door before going inside…! I seriously need a scene where Magnus complains about it. Like Raphael is over at his place and they’re talking and all of a sudden Clary just waltzes right in and Raph is just sitting there with his mouth agape as Magnus rolls his eyes and gets up:
“Yes, Biscuit? What do you need?”
And Clary looks at Raphael with a frown and then back to Magnus before asking:
“What is he doing here!?” And Raphael has just had it with this shit. Enough is enough, so he pins her with a glare and states not-so-very calmly:
“Me? I’m visiting my friend. You are the one interrupting a very important conversation without even having the DECENCY to knock before just walking in like you own the place. Were you raised in a barn!?”
Clary just stares at him like he’s lost his mind and Magnus puts a hand on his arm to calm him down, silently telling him it’s not that big of a deal.
“What’s your deal!?” Clary eventually recovers and Magnus heaves this long-suffering sigh before breaking it down for her.
“My dear, he’s got a point. The door is there for a reason, next time knock. Now, what did you come here for anyway?”
“I… I wanted to ask if you knew why Simon can suddenly walk in the sun. Alec told me not to come, but I need to know if it’s permanent or if something bad will happen because of it” she explains and Magnus can’t help but smile at the mention of Alec wanting her to leave him alone. It’s Raphael who answers her though, with a roll of his eyes he gets up from the couch.
“Yes, it’s permanent. No, he’s not going to die and next time, listen to the only shadowhunter with some manners and don’t use my friend like he’s you own personal warlock on call. Now get out” he says and practically pushes her out of the loft before turning back to a snickering Magnus.
“Dios, are they always like this?” He asks, pointing towards the now closed door. Magnus just nods and gestures for him to sit back down.
“Oh yeah, don’t even get me started. This one time Alec and I got back from a date and were in the middle of talking about where our relationship was going and I was just about to bring him down for a second kiss when the freaking door slams open and there’s his parabatai with a bag, asking if I had a spare room. And then there was this other time…”
They sit like that for hours, Magnus complaining about these shadowhunters who seem to think they can just come and go as they please, and eventually even Raphael has had enough and so while Magnus speaks, he messages Alec and tells him to have a talk with his siblings and their friends about freaking MANNERS before asking him to please come over so he can go back to the Hotel Dumort before sunrise.
Craig: Okay, how am I even gonna approach this guy? Um… *Clears throat* Craig: Hello, My name’s Craig. I’m the one who messaged you about the house, sorry I’m so late I just… I just… I don’t have an excuse ugh.
Craig: It’s okay. Just knock. Even if this guy won’t rent to you, you’ll find someone who will. Eventually. Yeah.
Craig: Just knock. On three… one, two- ???: Craig?… Craig: Uh. Um. ???: Craig, why are you here?
Walter White vs Frank Underwood: Who really is the one who knocks?
This is the age of anti-heroes dramas.
Walter White (Bryan Cranston) and Frank Underwood (Kevin Spacey) are the living proofs of a change in the narrative styles adopted by TV writers these days.
Long gone are the days when the main character was a positive everyman with noble and saving-the-world like intentions. And when someone happens to be a positive character of such, he or she ends up being physically or morally harmed, or worse decapitated.
We are fascinated by anti-heroes. They tend to stay more hooked up on our feelings than positive characters do. There’s something magnetic and thrilling in supporting the bad guys that clearly makes us more disposed to forgive them and cheer for their progress in the storylines.
The American drama has recently given us two great examples of anti-heroes that are likely to be remembered and leave a cult image of themselves in the years to come.
I chose to focus on Walter White and Frank Underwood since they are the best examples of anti-heroes in television, though they’re not the only ones. Tony Soprano and Don Draper (from Mad Man) are two great anti-heroes of previous shows.
Then who, in an imaginary competition, is the greatest anti-hero?
As we all know, he is the chemistry teacher diagnosed with lung cancer, who eventually decides to direct his life towards the criminal world by becoming the greatest methamphetamine’s cook and producer of the world. With a 99.1% purity, Walter White’s – in art Heisenberg – meth is the best ever manufactured. He eventually becomes a producer himself, unchaining his product from the hands of the villain Gus Fring.
Walter White’s story is about a man who has been given the chance to pursue his ambitions “thanks” to his disease and, therefore, has nothing to lose. He chose to exploit all these circumstances to reveal his nature, though he’s been hiding under the idea of leaving something for his family.
Conversely, House of Cards’ protagonist totally lacks an inner and more human side, showing to the world a meticulous, impassive, rational and machiavellian character whose only pursuit is to ambition and personal success. And if this means hurting others in order to succeed, that is completely accepted. He doesn’t need anyone’s permission and appears able to act with “ruthless pragmatism”.
In comparison, Frank appears to be the Heisenberg side of Walter White. He seems to lack humanity and he usually exploits his wide range of skills in order to accomplish his personal goal.
Contrariwise, Water White shows some kind of good intentions in what he does. He still retains some sort of humanity that eventually makes him vulnerable and weak. That is observable in the feelings he has for Jesse and how he’s not completely ruthless and schemer in every situation. “Ozymandias” is a clear example of what I’m talking about.
Nonetheless, after coming to know Walter’s personality I had personal doubts about his reasons: is he a good man transformed by the need to provide for his family? Or was wickedness already an inner side of his persona? Did the cancer give him an excuse to unleash his real personality?
Walter wasn’t a bad person: he truly believed his goal was to leave something to his family after he’ll be dead. But eventually, we come to know that what he was doing had awakened some sort of inner strength he had been covering for too much time.
Speaking about House of Cards instead, I think we’ve been played by Frank Underwood.
He’s not the anti-hero we want him to be.
He is the villain of the story and there’s something scary, thrilling, disturbing and peculiarly disarming about being confident of the bad guy. He has nothing that may justify his action — contrary to Walter White — therefore watching him playing his role to me is like watching the whole Harry Potter saga from Voldemort’s point of view.
Nonetheless, we cheer for Frank as we have supported Walt and we want both of them to win and accomplish their purposes.
Maybe there’s something evil in everyone’s inner side as I personally get excited every time I see Frank succeeding or talking directly to his audience. To us, to me.
Summary: Y/N gets tired of waiting around for Dean when he shows up unexpectedly
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 1029
A/N: This is definitely a day late but hopefully not a dollar short! This is written for @impalaimagining 1k celebration! The fic is based off of the song I Know You Won’t by Carrie Underwood. Thanks @megansescape for the beta!
It was late at night and your house was quiet, any noise made would echo through the empty halls. You had taken everything and packed it away. You only had one box left to take to your car, but you would do that in the morning. You had one foot on the stairs, ready for bed, when you heard that familiar knock at your door. It was hard, but not angry, you knew the person on the other side of the door just couldn’t wait to get in. There was only one person who would knock like that, Dean Winchester. You froze in place, unsure if you were going to open the door or not. You hadn’t seen him in four months and you hadn’t talked to him in two. The last time he contacted you was when he sent a picture of Sam’s arm asking if it needed stitches. Since you worked as a vet, you were always able to stitch whatever wound Dean appeared at your door with or give him substantial medical advice.
You made your way to the door expecting to see Dean, beaten and cut up, but to your surprise, he was fully intact. “Dean? What are you-”
Before you could finish, he engulfed you in a hug. “I’ve missed you so much, baby.”