#'why do you live with your grandma' reasons ;3

[boy-armageddon]

Listen to this beast

[kari-sims]

Tomiko Moriyama (she/they) as my entry for the Total Drama Sims season 3 by @jonquilyst!! (thanks for letting me participate <3)

also huge wall of slightly amusing text below the cut (you've been warned!) cause i was caffeinated and ended up having some fun with this ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)

👩 Age: 14 🪐 Lives in: Strangerville 🐛 Goals in life: to open a bug museum 💖 Orientation: thinks girls are cute, but doesn't want to waste their short teen years chasing them around (that's what the 20's are for!) 🎶 Hidden talent: encyclopedic knowledge of kpop girl group's songs and dances 🥇 Honorable titles: -> 'Mighty Collector of the Fun Hats' -> 'Prestigious Ambassador' at the ''International Bug Diplomacy Federation'' (only actual human member, but it'll grow, just wait!) 👍Likes: iridescent beetles / cut rock hard candy / slippery mud you can draw on / putting googly eyes on random things 👎 Dislikes: homework / cleaning things that'll get dirty again / humans evil bug killing inventions (unless it's a laser shooting death ray gun for mosquitoes, cause yeah, even a bug loving girl hates those bastards!)

[RECORD 434, another sunny day in strange Strangerville]

🔴 ▶ •၊၊||၊|။||||။‌‌‌‌‌၊|•

(sound of someone clearing their throat, followed by what's obviously a kid trying to speak in an exaggerated deep voice)

Tomiko: "Tomiko is a girl who didn't need a home with walls or windows - the roof to her 'home' has always been the sky above." (pauses, mutters to themselves) Ooh that's a good one! Wait, people will think i live in the woods, no? Wouldn't that be the dream…

(moment of silence as Tomiko daydreams, then remembers she just started recording)

"Tomiko doesn't have many friends, because she was destined to be a free-spirited loner. With the exception of Clarisse, a girl who dreams ofbecoming a marine biologist. Clarisse was made fun of by strangers on a dumb internet show she went to one day, all because she wanted to win the money and go on a trip to Sulani. Now everyone calls her the 'Dolphin Girl'. After Tomiko decided to console her at lunch in school, both of them ended up bonding over their crazy obssession with nature. They've been inseparable friends ever since."

(another pause, followed by an audible sigh)

"Well, they were inseparable, until Tomiko moved away. Now Clarisse is being weird for no reason... anyways, where was i?

(forgets why they went on a Clarisse tangent and starts to fumble with their unorganized notes)

"Oh yes, destined to be a free-spirited loner, ya-da ya-da. Unfortunately, Tomiko was forced to live in a boring house made of bricks, with white furniture, and a mom who was always mad about her muddy boots on the carpet."

(voice shifts to mimic the mom's screech)

- I'm not gonna raise a savage wild child! Since you love dirt so much, go live with your bum of a father in that Strangerplace world, or whatever it's called.

"Best thing to ever happen to me!" (voice switches to normal accidentally, then goes back to the fake deep one) - I mean - best thing to ever happen to Tomiko! Even though her dad looks kinda weird lately, walking around aimlessly at night in search of his mother. Classic dad, being a weirdo. No idea how this man got married..."

- Dad, I told you grandma still lives in Willow Creek. Why do you think she's in the middle of the desert? Also, she wouldn't be caught dead wasting away her fabulous heels in this god-forsaken place.

"Tomiko pretends she doesn't see it, because now she can do whatever she wants, why complicate things? The only problem is, there isn't much to do in Strangerville with the infection rumors going on, and all the damn sus soldiers. Also, the taste of travelling for the first time has left her wanting to see more. Imagine all the bugs she could find?! But you need money for that, sooo… what to do, what to do…"

(voice returns to normal, a bit defensive)

"Okay, fine, I'm the one recording this… (sighs) I know what you're thinking - "just steal from your dad!". Seriously, who do you think I am? Anyways, I did something else instead. I heard there's this competition with other teens where you get to travel the world, and guess what? I signed up for it! Without my parents knowing, of course, but that is irrelevant. They won't even notice I'm gone, I fear. I just hope the organizers don't ask for their permission, because Clarisse was the one who knew how to fake signatures, but now she's hanging out with other kids at school, and thinks she's better than me."

(inhales, then proceeds to speak loudly at a wall, probably)

"Like... Nina? The enemy? Be so for real right now Clarisse! My life is just grand without you! I'll get to travel the world and educate people on how bugs are friends, and definitely NOT disgusting or too dangerous! Well, most times. I'll also prove that even if you're a weird bug loving kid like me, you can still have a chance at a game that requires you to make friends. It'll be eaaasy! In a few weeks I'll be like, Clarisse who? Hahah!"

(brief pause on their flex-rant, which is totally NOT a defense mechanism because she's hurt by them growing apart. They return, slightly worried)

"Do you think I can die in there? Cause gosh, let's hope not! Imagine going on an adventure of a lifetime and not being able to tell people about your heroic deeds... that'd be so lame! Anyways, I'll see you when I see you, whoever is listening to this… Tomi out!"

🟥 ▶ •ııııııııııııııııı•

[RECORD ENDS]

wow if you're still here, thanks for reading, you wonderful bean! here, have a cute snail

(´・ᴗ・)>~🐌

[007reid]

So, still in the au of “secrets: Spencer Reid”..

I wanna see the teams reactions to reader and how cute Spencer is with her and how protective she is of him. Maybe Spence gets a little drunk and reader has an arm locked around him with a possessive scowl on their face. Pleeaasee??

you ask and you shall receive! i’m glad you enjoyed secrets, anon<3 sorry this is so late :(

secrets p. 2. spencer reid

spencer reid x fem!reader

part 1 | part 2 ♡ this can be read as a stand-alone though!

summary: everyone expected spencer’s plus one to be his grandma or a close friend visiting. to see him show up with you hanging off his arm, clad in a black dress and rubbing your blood red lips together, you become the talk of the night.

warnings: fluff fluff just straight fluff!! spencer introducing his gf to the fam, teasing, drinking, flirting , nothing out of da norm. r is tough and possessive and spencer is basically her girlfriend.

a/n: someone take pinterest away from me because i’m getting too good at scouring for mgg stills and staring at them for hours. tell me you didn’t stare at that picture too.

spencer texted morgan that night, telling him that he’s bringing a plus one. morgan responded with a curt “yea bring ur ma on over why not.”

it appears that morgan did not take spencer that seriously. so he texted garcia, and she responded with “which member of the family havent we met? ❤️” spencer was just midst of falling on to his knees.

the day rolls around and spencer dreads it, plots a plan to make you watch a star wars movie marathon so that you’d fall asleep by the time of the event. he’s not a social recluse, by any means (okay so sometimes he is) but he prefers an evening staying in over going out. and it’s sunday evening, too, and he just wants an early night and to kiss you lazily until he’s sleepy. he doesn’t want to start the car, doesn’t want to get dressed up and get tidy for the bar. doesn’t wanna go anywhere.

the marathon plan backfired on him. just as you’re halfway through the third movie, you start pushing the throw blanket off your bodies, nudging spencer’s arms off of you. spencer whines, and he tries to make himself look extra pathetic (which didn’t take much, considering how he’s already desperate to get out of meeting the team) so that you’d pity him.

you don’t fall for his act one bit, which is extremely humbling to spencer. his puppy eyes used to work on you, but he suppose you’ve grown an immunity to them. “lazy boy,” you chides. he hides his face in the crook of your neck and you laugh. “come on, we’ll be late.”

“fashionably late,” spencer quips. you laugh again, detangling your bodies and press a kiss on his cheek before leaving the living room. spencer sits on the couch for a while and contemplates.

he does end up dragging his ass off the couch and freshen himself up. you have decided to use the guest bathroom for some reason, and he gets ready by himself, shaving before throwing on a simple burgundy sweater with all kind of patterns on it and some black pants, smoothing his hair out a bit and tucking them neatly behind his ears.

he rubs at his chin, looking at himself in the mirror. he looks like a middle school civics teacher, but he couldn’t careless.

he grabs his phone and slides it in his back pocket, going to the closed guest bathroom door. he knocks softly, leaning in close to not miss your voice.

“yn?”

“almost there,” you respond through the door.

“can i come in?”

“uhh,” spencer frowns. it’s unusual you’re doing this. you guys have shared an apartment for five months now, and he’s basically learned to lived around your life, to always have you wherever. getting ready apart is definitely unusual, and you’re being hesitant about letting him in, even.

maybe you’re still mad about the lila thing. he should apologize the moment he gets the chance.

“sure honey,” you say finally. spencer cautiously opens the door, and you’re sitting on the bed, pulling up your black pantyhose. he melts and perks up simultaneously at the sight of you.

you’re wearing a shiny, black silk dress that goes halfway down your thighs, the material pooling on the white sheets as you adjusts the pantyhose, reaching for your matching black leather mary janes. spencer looks down at himself, feeling timidly underdressed. you look up and smile at him so easily as if you're not the most beautiful woman in the world.

spencer feels his throat clog up. he clears it but when he speaks his voice is still blurry. "hi."

"hi," you buckle up your mary janes, gold necklace hovering above your knee. spencer stands awkwardly at the door, too entranced to move. you look up when he doesn't answer immediately, and breathe out a laugh when you see the dumb, starstruck look on his face. "gonna stand there all night baby?"

"mhm," spencer says absentmindedly. he finally bounces off the door frame and carefully sits himself on the bed next to you, cautious with every move. he immediately gets a faceful of the scent of your perfume and you look like an angel, smell like one too. "new dress?"

"mhm, thrifted it the other night," you respond. you stand up from the bed and do a small twirl, the thin fabric forming the shape of a flower, flying. you remind him of a black cherry blossom, if those even existed. "you like it? found it for four dollars. can you believe that? deal of a lifetime. if i had gotten to the thrift later someone would've snatched it right up."

to be honest, spencer isn't listening to a single word you're saying. he stares at you, and your silver hoops and crinkling eyes and the silver necklace he gifted you for your birthday five months ago and gets dizzy with the thought of how lucky he is.

"crazy deal," he says. then blurts. "you look beautiful."

you smile playfully. "you're just saying that," you laugh, smoothing out your hair in the mirror installed in the wardrobe. spencer stares at your reflection. "looking dapper yourself, doctor."

"do you think i should change?" he asks. because right now, it looks like you're both dressing up for different events. him to a school-based textbook debate conference and you to a high class art museum. neither events are the actual event you are both going to.

"you look handsome, spence," you reassure him. "that sweater. it suits you."

"it doesn't suit the bar," spencer grumbles quietly, still upset that he has to show up. he's not a bar man. more of a picnic or joinery kind of guy.

"you weren't born to suit whenever you're going," you say and then grab his hand. "we're gonna be late."

***

spencer gets even more grumbly when you both enters the bar, but you know in his heart he's extremely happy. he practically lights up when he sees his team crowding at a booth, dragging you along by the arm. he says hi to everyone, immediately comfortable just from the presence of his team except his excitement isn't mutual. the team isn't looking at him, but at you.

goggling like an eagle, some might say. you elbow spencer in the ribs. spencer looks at you questioningly, as if he doesn't know what to do.

"introduce me," you urge, feeling more awkward by the second. a man staring at you with his jaw on the table, beer frozen halfway to his lips you assume is morgan has a terrified look on his face. everyone does, actually.

"oh yeah. sorry," spencer says, ears turning slightly red but his beam is still bright. "everyone, this is yn. she's my girlfriend!"

"sweet mary jesus," morgan finally says. he breaks the ice, and the entire booth corrupts in excitement.

"reid, what are you doing? sit the lady down," jj scowl, scooting over and making space, squishing emily against her. spencer lets you slide in first, next to jj and he sits down after you, hand gentle at your waist. "why didn't you tell us?"

"well i tried to--"

"i really thought we had nothing to hide from each other. you know you could've trusted me with it!" garcia quips, her thick neon red earrings moving back and forth.

"i didn't do anything deliberate to hide it!" spencer defends himself snarkily.

"i couldn't deduce you had a girlfriend. i just thought someone who made you really happy started crashing at your place," hotch says, thoughtfully.

"let the girl talk," rossi rolls his eyes. spencer definitely captures their personalities well when he tells you stories about the bau, you recognize everyone just from a sentence. the table quiets and you can feel the warmness of eyes all on you.

"hi everyone," you could feel your cheeks getting warm from the attention. you wanted to make an impression, but it's hard. you go for the standard, "i've heard a lot about everybody."

"we would've loved to hear about you," garcia chirps. "but spencer is a very private soul. how long have you been together?"

the evening dissolves into small talk and teasing, and out of everyone in the bau, perhaps the one who's most shocked and proud of spencer is morgan. he sits back, arm tossed around garcia, admiring spencer like a pleased older brother seeing his baby brother ask for his car keys to take his new girlfriend out on a date. hotch has the same expression on his face, one of a proud dad.

he knew that something had been keeping spencer extra upbeat than usual, the lack of eye bags and how he's always energized and better put together. hotch couldn't place a figure on what it was, but now he realizes it was you. spencer almost glows, basking in the shower of your presence and hotch knows that under the table you and spencer are probably doing something cringy like rubbing circle-eights into each other's knees or holding hands under the table. the same thing he did when he was hopelessly in honeymoon love.

the entire table are happy for the both of you, but there's probably isn't anyone in the club more happy than spencer. he is lovesick and you're so beautiful, he can't help it. he feels more comfortable than he ever had been in a club, and that encourage him to knock more drinks down, have a little more fun.

"i'll grab the next round," you say, noticing that the beers in everyone's hands are getting lukewarm. you press a hand against spencer's thigh as you get up. spencer looks up at you, eyes wide and sweet. "i'll be right back."

as soon as you absorb into the crowd, the entire table startles in cheers and whistles. spencer glows red, partly from the alcohol. mostly from the attention. "my man!" morgan praises, knocking a punch into spencer's shoulder.

"ow!"

"she's beautiful," jj says approvingly. "she knows how to dress."

"i'm sayin'!" despite how much he denies it, derek is a horrible lightweight. he slurs. "how the hell did you bag her? tell us your secrets."

spencer blushes like a newly courted bride, going magenta all over.

"okay stop bullying the kid," emily says, but she's grinning wide.

"he definitely likes it," garcia giggles, pressed flat against morgan.

when you return, beers in your hand, the entire booth are giggling like a bunch of schoolgirls and your boyfriend is rambling, on and on. "sorry i took a while," you say, and within a flash everyone's grabbed beers for themselves, knocking the caps over. it's reached that point of the night when everyone's breath smells of beer, and the music is extra loud and everyone's extra dizzy. spencer latches onto you immediately the moment you sit down, staring at you with fucking moons in his eyes.

"i was just talking about you," he says, pupils wide. you know your boy is beyond drunk.

"yeah?" spencer nods. "what about?"

spencer hiccups and forgets the question. "wanna dance?"

a small smile creep on your face. it's unusual for spencer to ask, usually he doesn't even want to witness the act of people dancing together at all. "you sure?" you lock an arm around him. no one pays attention to the two of you, lost in their own conservations. spencer nods again.

"can we dance? let's go," he makes to move, pouting his lips but you slither your arms all over him, trapping him into you. "y/nnn," he whines.

"stay put for a bit for me okay?” you murmur, trying to distract him from the dancefloor.

it’s not like you oppose to dancing. hell, you love dancing, but ever since you stood up to grab the table drinks, you notice unwanted eyes across the bar glued on your boy, women with sharp eyebrows and pointy chins and short dresses, and you can never help the awful feeling that coils in your stomach.

jealousy is an irritating feeling to feel, and it’s telling you to dig your teeth into his neck and mark him all over for everyone to see and look away. but you won’t do that, because you have a slightest drops of decency you have saved up, and the least you can do is pamper spencer with kisses and grab onto his hand so tight he’d think of you instead of the inviting dancefloor.

spencer falls for it immediately, returning your kisses and whining pathetically against your lips, the alcohol making his head spin. spencer ‘s never been a fan of pda but he couldn’t careless now, hanging on you like a cat, dancefloor forgotten. you smile against his lips.

victory.

[soobnny]

classmate au | park sunghoon

❝ what do you have for lunch today? ❞

heeseung | jay | jake | SUNGHOON | sunoo | jungwon | ni-ki

alexa play 0x1=lovesong

in your head, he’s the love interest with 0 interest in you🥲😢😢😢😢

it’s bc he’s so DAMN famous in your school

yes he’s your classmate .. ltrly in the same room but u cannot make conversation with him

he sleeps in class when he can like he will be DOZED OFF !!!!

nobody rly approaches the pretty boy

you’ve heard he’s rejected a handful of people before

you wont make a move for sure

so why does Park Sunghoon drag his seat so he’s sitting adjacent of you

why is he pulling out his lunch box and putting it on ur little table

WHY IS HE EATING WITH YOU

you don’t say anything when he does it

and he doesn’t say anything either

honestlyyyy…. it’s a little awkward like wtf is happening rn this is a Simulation

BUT you’re eating lunch together

and guess what

it becomes a constant thing too 😭

like he’d just silently drag his seat and you know he’s on his way to your table to eat lunch

is it because you’re one of the few people who eat in the room instead of the canteen??

tbh WHO CARES

unattainable campus crush park sunghoon is in front of you and eating lunch with you for some reason

it makes ur heart go crazy becos !!???!!!

he doesn’t rly acknowledge anyone

it’s bc he’s always busy being exempted for some competition

he finally starts talking to you when he sees you watching a yuzuru hanyu video during one of your little lunch sessions

tbh it was just a small video on tiktok that u scrolled by and returned to bc wow that spin was so cool

it’s when he starts making convo that u find out he’s actually SO funny and so unhinged

he’ll start laughing to himself 😕😕

also will tell the most UNFUNNY dad jokes

you only laugh because his laugh is so loud and so unrestrained

tho you do tell him his jokes are horrible

and he makes everyday a mission to tell you a joke that’ll genuinely make you laugh

it becomes your thing

he’ll just randomly show up in front of u and start cracking the most terrible joke

“rip boiling water. you will be mist!”

cue his laughter

you: 😐😐😐 not funny didn’t laugh

then sunghoon becomes more of a friend… not some unattainable crush figure !!! a friend !!!

some of his favorite things to do with you are watching videos during lunch AND sharing earphones while you listen to music

your fyp on tiktok now is both of ur shared interests

you even have a folder on each of ur phones for tiktoks u wanna share to each other that u pass by when u aren’t together

no he doesn’t send u the link like a normal person

sunghoon waits until class to show u so he can see ur reaction face to face

and the whole listening to music ??? u’ll just be seated side by side and staring into the distance sometimes

spacing out is wonderful <3

so now instead of sleeping .. he’ll just offer u an earbud so you can put it in your ear and listen to him

has a secret playlist for u (u don’t know this)

the photo for the playlist is the only photo u have together btw

it was when u were checking ur face on ur front cam and he just suddenly appeared in the back with a peace sign

it’s adorable

he bugged u to airdrop the photo 9284 times that day bc u refused to at first

it’s so 180 the way you suddenly become friends with him !!!!!

another thing he does is laugh at how you enjoy playing candy crush, calling you a grandma as if he doesn’t act like an old man

and then he gets so invested when you let him try

will cheat to get more lives and fuck up your time settings on your phone

btw he always talks about you A LOT 😭

his friends will know everything about you before you even meet them

“so, what level are you in candy crush?”, jake would ask the first time you meet

“excuse me, what??”

“sunghoon talks about you aaaall the time, it’s getting a little silly. like i know your go-to order at a cafe.”

“yeah like isn’t ur favorite color ___”

u look at sunghoon like ?????? and he just has a guilty smile on his face

but he doesn’t deny anything

you’d be shocked to suddenly see him as your seatmate one day like he rly switched with the person sitting next to you

laughing at your test paper scores together is also a fun little activity the two of u do

and then crying as you cram study in one of ur homes or on call when it gets too late

“hey can u help me with this chemistry question”

“ok give me a minute”

would open up those white board apps and screenshare his phone to start helping u with a part he understands but u don’t

he was 828283 screenshots of ur calls together

btw you CANNOT go to the library

you know that if you go to a library together … yall are NOT studying 😭

also u enjoy just shooting each other questions back and forth before the test

u would also probably come up with ways on how to cheat im sorry like u guys will have this whole grand scheme only to chicken out of it when u actually take the test

anyways

one day, you ask him why he had suddenly started eating lunch with you

bc like !!!! u’re happy he did but why so suddenly yknow

you’re grateful tho bc now u have someone to text like 25/8 and call whenever u’re bored

BUT U WANNA KNOW WHY. what started it

“i don’t know... i’ve always wanted to talk to you. you’re always so funny in class”

“and you didn’t say anything because??”

“i was gonna say something then i totally chickened out and then it was too late to say anything…. thank god for yuzuru hanyu.”

asks u to be his gf while teaching u figure skating for the first time

bc u finally ask him like dude why r u ALWAYS absent from classes

he’s like oh no biggie i’m ltrly just an athlete that competes in national events 😹😹😹

WTF !!!!!!!!

u knew he was competing in something but he never mentioned Figure Skating before

he is a fraud of a Friend

“sunghoon what does our friendship actually mean to u … WHERE IS THE LOVE”

but then he’ll go .. “want me to teach you?”

he’s forgiven now

“teach me figure skating??”

“yes” and he’s SOOOOO excited about it

he helps you find which skates to wear like he makes sure u have right size so ur feet don’t hurt

doesnt let u borrow those polar bears to hold onto

he can be ur polar bear

tho, when u do get tired .. he finally rents one and lets u sit on it while he pushes u around

it’s so much fun

except for when you fall

tho … it’s important for me to tell you that when you fall on your butt, he has heart eyes

and he holds your hands the entire time

he asks u to be his gf when you skate ur way across the rink without his help

sunghoon got so happy he just blurted it out

“be mine”

BYEEEEEE ofc u say yes

tho u think he’s joking at first

he does repeat it when you eat ramen after .. he’ll be like r u actually fr ??? did u actually say yes to me ??? u wanna deal with my jokes forever ??

oh dear

you should invite yuzuru hanyu to your wedding honestly 😭 thank u to ur fyp

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! last of the series, let me know what you think!

[the-oblivious-writer]

Let the Light In |8|

Tara Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Chapter Eight: Old Temptations

Summary: After hiding yourself away for weeks, Anika and Henry get you to return to the living. While you're at the party they bring you to, you run into Tara before a third-party runs into your fists.

Warning(s): Swearing, fighting - whoop whoop!! that's the sound, social interactions, and drinking (underage)

Notes: I made at least ten drafts, combined them, adjusted, and here is the final product. This is more of an R focused chapter, so you'll start to see more of the internal struggles she goes through along with a special guest start. As always, I hope you enjoy

Masterlist|Previous Part|Next Part

The incandescent lights of Henry's apartment building buzz overhead as you follow him and Anika up the concrete stairs. Your boots echo against each step, creating a hollow rhythm that matches your reluctant heartbeat. You've been dreading this party all week, but your friends had worn you down with their relentless enthusiasm and pointed comments about your "hermit tendencies."

"I still can't believe you actually agreed to come," Henry says over his shoulder, his keys jingling as he searches for the right one. "Usually getting you out after exams is like trying to coax a cat into taking a bath."

"Maybe I'm turning over a new leaf," you mutter, knowing full well it's a lie. The only reason you'd agreed was because they'd caught you in a moment of weakness—specifically, when you were coming down from a three-day study binge and your defenses were too low to properly deflect their persistent pestering.

Anika snorts, adjusting her glittering top that catches the harsh hallway light. "Right. And I'm going to start watching silent films with you."

"Charlie Chaplin’s a classic," you defend, following them into Henry's apartment. The familiar scent of his signature sandalwood candles hits you immediately. 

"Whatever you say, grandma," Henry teases, disappearing into his bedroom. You can hear him rummaging around, probably looking for whatever he plans to wear tonight.

You collapse onto his worn leather couch, the same one he'd rescued from a curb three years ago. Despite its questionable origins, it's the most comfortable piece of furniture you've ever encountered. Maybe if you sink deep enough into it, they'll forget you're here and leave without you.

Anika perches on the arm of the couch, already touching up her makeup in a compact mirror. "You know," she starts, and you recognize that tone—it's the one she uses when she's about to say something she thinks you won't like. "Tara might be there tonight."

Your stomach does an uncomfortable flip. "And why would I care about that?"

"Oh, I don't know," Anika draws out the words, applying another coat of mascara with practiced precision. "Maybe because you've been moping around ever since your little disappearing act?"

"I haven't been moping," you protest, but even you can hear how weak it sounds. "I've been studying. There's a difference."

"Right," she says, sarcasm dripping from her voice.

You open your mouth to argue, then close it again. The past few weeks have been a blur of textbooks, coffee, and a blend of mathematical formulas and historical documentations. You'd thrown yourself into exam preparation with perhaps more vigor than strictly necessary, but that was just your way of dealing with stress. 

It definitely had nothing to do with how you'd ignored her texts afterward.

Dork (3:47 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) I can't make it tonight

Tara (3:48 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) oh. lemme knw when u can reschedule 

Dork (3:48 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) Tara, don't do that

Tara (3:49 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) dont wat????

Dork (3:49 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) I know what 'oh' means

Tara (3:50 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) well then eblighten me cuz idk what ur ymmaring abt

Dork (3:51 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) *Enlighten/*yammering, and never mind

Tara (3:51 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) 🤓 is u fr 

Dork (3:52 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) Excuse me? 

Tara (3: 52 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) i have to explain??? but i thougt u were all knowing!

Dork (3:53 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) *Thought. I know you know how to spell, you're just reckless with a keyboard

Tara (3:53 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) my question is when did i ask

Dork (3:54 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) That's an improvement

Tara (3:54 pm - 2 WEEKS AGO) stfup.

Henry emerges from his bedroom, now wearing a fitted crop-top that every guy wore in the 80’s. "Are we talking about the Tara situation?"

"There is no 'Tara situation,'" you insist, making air quotes with your fingers. "Can we please just go to this party so I can suffer through it and get back to my peaceful, drama-free existence?"

"Drama-free?" Henry laughs, grabbing his keys. "Is that what we're calling your one-person production of 'Hamlet' these last eighteen years?"

You bite your thumb at him, but there's no real heat behind it. These are your best friends, after all, and you know their teasing comes from a place of love. Even if they're being particularly annoying about it tonight.

The drive to the party is a blur of street lights and the sound of Abbey Road. You're behind the wheel of your beloved '70 Ford Maverick, a car that Henry constantly ridicules. Anika claims the passenger seat, still fussing with her makeup, while Henry sprawls in the back, giving you directions that are more confusing than helpful.

"No, no, turn left at the next—wait, I meant right. My other left."

"Your other left?" you deadpan, making the turn anyway. "How many lefts do you have?"

"Don't sass the navigator," he replies primly. "Oh, there it is! The house with all the cars out front."

You pull up to the curb about half a block away, already feeling your anxiety spike at the sight of the crowded frat house. Music pulses from within, so loud you can feel it in your chest even from here. People mill about on the front lawn, red cups in hand, their laughter carrying through the night air.

"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" you ask, killing the engine but making no move to get out of the car.

Anika turns to you, her expression softening slightly. "Because Henry threatened to sing the entire soundtrack of 'Cats' outside your bedroom door if you didn't come."

"That was a low blow," you mutter, finally unbuckling your seatbelt. "You know how much I hate that musical."

"Desperate times," Henry says cheerfully, already out of the car and bouncing on his heels with excitement. "Come on, let's go find out what kinds of terrible decisions we can make tonight!"

You follow your friends up the walkway, trying to ignore the way your palms are already sweating. The last party you'd attended had been... well, it had been a week before your self-imposed exile. The night Tara had looked at you with those impossibly dark eyes and asked if you wanted to get some air, and you'd panicked and made up an excuse about needing to check on your nonexistent fish.

The front door is already open, music and voices spilling out into the night. As soon as you cross the threshold, you're hit with a wall of sensory input that makes your head spin. The air is thick with artificial fog from a machine hidden somewhere in the corner, mixed with the distinctive scent of cheap beer and various perfumes and colognes. Multi-colored lights pulse in time with the music, turning everything into a strobing dreamscape and your nightmare.

Henry guides you through the crowd with a gentle hand on your back, navigating the sea of bodies with practiced ease. You catch glimpses of familiar faces as you pass. They all blur together in the dim light, becoming a kaleidoscope of features that makes your head swim.

You end up at yet another worn leather couch that's seen better days, probably around the same era as your car. Henry gestures for you to sit, and you do, grateful for something solid beneath you. The cushions seem to want to swallow you whole, and for once, you don't fight it.

"I'll get us drinks!" Henry shouts over the music, already backing away into the crowd. "Don't move!"

Anika lingers for a moment, looking torn between staying with you and pursuing whatever—or whoever—has caught her attention across the room. You wave her off with a weak smile. "Go. I'll be fine right here, becoming one with the furniture."

She hesitates another second before grinning. "Try to have some fun, okay? And text me if you need an escape plan." Then she's gone, disappearing into the crowd with the grace of Mindy, someone who actually enjoys these sorts of gatherings.

Left alone, you let yourself sink deeper into the couch, watching the party unfold around you. A group of girls near the makeshift dance floor are attempting some sort of choreographed routine, though the alcohol in their systems is making it more comedic than coordinated. Two guys are engaged in what appears to be an intense debate about pizza toppings, their gestures becoming more animated with each passing second.

The bass line of whatever song is playing thrums through your body, making your bones vibrate in a way that's not entirely unpleasant. You find yourself timing your breathing to it, using it as an anchor in the chaos. This isn't so bad, you think. You can handle this. It's just a few hours, and then you can go home and binge-watch your comfort shows until the sun comes up.

"Y/L/N special!" Henry's voice breaks through your thoughts as he returns, thrusting a red solo cup into your hands. The liquid inside is an alarming shade of orange that definitely doesn't occur in nature.

You eye it suspiciously. "What exactly makes it a ‘Y/L/N special'?"

"The fact that it's specifically designed for the same people who despise candy unless it's 99% cacao," he explains, dropping onto the couch beside you with his own drink—something amber-colored that you assume is actually beer.

"That's... oddly thoughtful," you admit, taking a tentative sip. It tastes like water that’s had lemons and limes soak in it for months, the kick makes your tongue tingle. "And dangerous."

"Just pace yourself," he advises, watching as more people filter into the already crowded space. "Oh hey, isn't that Charlotte?"

You follow his gaze to see Charlotte, the person you ended things with through a text message. You try to hide behind the red plastic in your hand as you sip, but you nearly spill your bitter bread water all over yourself when she notices you. You can tell it caught her off guard; her eyes slightly widened and she took an uncomfortably long pause mid-sentence. This pause caused her friends to look over which only made things even more awkward—at least for you. After shooting daggers at you and one of them flipping you off, they linked elbows with Charlotte and took her to a different room.

You know you deserved it.

Henry sucked his teeth. “Ouch. Casanova strikes again,” he chuckled with amusement.

“Ugh,” you express in response to the name for you before downing the last of the liquid in your cup. “I’m out. I’m gonna get one more.”

One drink turns into two, two turns into three, and somewhere during your debate with Henry over which Ninja Turtle’s the best one, you’re interrupted by a pair of familiar dark brown eyes meeting yours. Your attention always seemed to gravitate towards Tara Carpenter. 

You momentarily pause your expression of admiration for Leonardo, peeking over Henry’s shoulder to give Tara a downwards smile paired with a finger wave. She rolls her eyes and returns your finger wave in a mocking gesture. After Henry realizes what’s grabbed your attention, he makes an excuse to walk away.

You're nursing your fifth orange drink when she materializes beside you, seemingly out of thin air. "Seriously?" The word drips with exasperation. "You're actually hiding behind Henry?"

"I'm not hiding," you protest, pulling yourself up to what you hope is a dignified height. "I'm strategically positioning myself for optimal social avoidance."

Tara snorts—an inelegant sound that somehow makes her more endearing. "Is that what we're calling it?" 

The space between you crackles with a tension that's part irritation, part something else entirely. 

"I could ask you the same thing," you counter with a crack in your voice. Tara notices this and slightly raises an eyebrow while giving you a once-over. "Pretty sure you've been standing in the exact same spot for the last twenty minutes."

Her eyes narrow. "I'm observing."

"Stalking," you correct automatically.

"Strategically positioning myself," she throws your earlier words back at you, and there's a glint in her eye that makes your breath catch.

For a moment, you felt uncharacteristically at ease in such a setting—when you catch a fragment of a conversation that makes your blood run cold. 

“—Carpenter's got a mouth on her that could—"

The words slice through your alcohol-induced haze like a knife. Your head whips around so fast you almost give yourself whiplash, searching for the source of the comment. Two guys are leaning against the wall near the stairs, one of them making crude gestures as he continues to make vile comments about Tara.

The pleasant warmth in your system transforms instantly into liquid fire. You recognize one of them—Marcus Wheeler from your Calculus class, the one who always makes inappropriate comments during lectures and thinks he's God's gift to mathematics. The other is unfamiliar, but the way he's laughing and encouraging Marcus makes your skin crawl.

Your muscles tense. Tara notices immediately. "Don't," she warns, a single word packed with more meaning than should be possible.

But you're already moving, your body acting before your brain can fully process the decision. 

Your fist connects with his jaw before you even realize you've thrown the punch. There's a satisfying crack that you feel more than hear, followed by a burst of pain across your knuckles that you're too angry to properly register. The pain sends a rush through you, pushes you, tempts you for more. 

Marcus staggers back, both surprised and hurt, but recovers quickly. He lunges for you, but your muscle memory kicks in. You sidestep, using his momentum against him, and somehow you end up on top of him, getting in another solid hit before strong hands pull you away.

The world comes rushing back all at once. The music has stopped, replaced by the murmur of shocked voices and the ringing in your ears. Everyone is staring at you, their faces a blur of surprise and judgment. Marcus is on the ground, blood trickling from his split lip, and presumably broken nose, looking at you with a mixture of rage, disbelief, and fear.

Your chest feels too tight, like someone's wrapped steel bands around your ribcage and is slowly tightening them. The weight of what you've just done crashes over you like a wave, threatening to pull you under. You need to get out—now.

You shoulder your way through the crowd, ignoring Henry calling your name, ignoring the whispers that follow in your wake. Someone tries to grab your arm, but you shake them off, focused solely on reaching the door. The cool night air hits your face like a slap when you finally burst outside, but you keep walking, your hands shaking as the adrenaline starts to wear off.

The crisp winter air hits you like a slap when you stumble outside, your breath forming small clouds in the freezing night.

“Wait!”

When did she get here?

"Let me see," Tara's voice cuts through your alcohol-induced haze, her hand reaching for yours with a familiarity that makes your head spin—or maybe you've had one too many of those orange drinks.

You thrust your hand toward her dramatically, wincing as the movement sends a spike of pain through your bruised knuckles.

"I totally got that incel good," you slur, a giggle bubbling up from somewhere deep and slightly unhinged. The ice beneath your feet seems to shimmer with your triumph.

Tara's fingers hover just above your hand, not quite touching but close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from her skin. "You're going to need ice for that," she says, her tone caught between exasperation and something else—something softer.

"Ice, huh?" You look down at the ground, the irony not lost on you. 

With exaggerated precision, you bend down and scoop up a handful of snow, pressing it against your knuckles. The cold bites, but it's a welcome contrast to the burning anger and alcohol still coursing through your system.

"This works, right?" You look up at her, your eyes wide and slightly unfocused. The world tilts slightly, but Tara remains steady—an anchor in your spinning vision.

Something flickers in her eyes—amusement, maybe. "You're something else," she mutters, but there's no real bite to the words.

Emboldened by alcohol and adrenaline, you lean in closer. The words tumble out before you can stop them. "So… I never did get an answer to that proposal."

Tara goes very still. A smile begins to form, tentative and fragile as first light. 

She chuckles at your remark before shaking her head and scoffing to herself. "Sometimes I just don't get you," she says with a smile still etched on her face, but there's more complexity in those words than simple dismissal as she stares back into your eyes.

Confusion must show on your face because she looks away, the streetlight catching the curve of her cheek, the set of her jaw. You didn’t know what else to say so you just said the first thing that came to mind. 

“Merry birthday, Tar,” you said. 

She’s taken aback by this. She didn’t know what to say, yet still opened her mouth to respond. Maybe something would come to her, but before anything did—

"There you are!" Anika's voice cuts through the moment like a knife. Your car pulls up to the curb, engine running warm against the freezing air. "We need to get out of here before that guy calls the cops."

The moment dissolves. Tara takes a step back, creating distance that feels more emotional than physical. You're left standing there, snow melting between your fingers, the taste of unresolved everything burning at the back of your throat.

As you climb into the passenger seat, you catch one last glimpse of her in the side mirror—a silhouette, perfectly still and impossibly distant.

—

The drive home is mostly silent, broken only by the occasional sigh from Anika and the gentle humming of your car's engine. Your knuckles throb in time with your heartbeat, a steady reminder of your momentary loss of control. The adrenaline is wearing off now, replaced by a mixture of embarrassment and alcohol-induced wooziness that makes you slouch lower in your seat.

"You know," Anika finally says as she pulls into your shared apartment complex, "when I said you needed to be more social, starting another fight wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

You grunt in response, too busy focusing on the way the world is tilting slightly to form actual words. The drinks are hitting harder now that the excitement is over, making everything feel soft around the edges.

"Use your words," she chides, killing the engine. 

"Words are for people who don't punch assholes at parties," you mumble, fumbling with your seatbelt. The simple mechanism seems impossibly complex right now.

Anika reaches over to help you, her movements gentle despite her exasperated tone. "Come on, Rocky Balboa. Let's get you inside."

Getting up the stairs to your second-floor apartment proves to be an adventure. You insist you can do it yourself, but after the third time you miss a step, Anika wraps an arm around your waist and practically drags you up.

"I can walk," you protest, even as you lean heavily against her.

"Sure you can. Just like you can make rational decisions at parties, right?" 

You attempt to glare at her, but the effect is somewhat ruined when you stumble over your own feet. "He deserved it."

"Oh, I'm not arguing that point," Anika says, fishing her keys out of her purse while still supporting most of your weight. "Marcus Wheeler is definitely in the running for Biggest Douchebag of the Year. But maybe next time we could handle it without violence? You know, like adults?"

"Adulting is overrated," you declare as she manages to get the door open. "If I was a kid, I could just pull Tara's pigtails or something."

Anika steers you toward the kitchen, depositing you none too gently into one of the mismatched chairs around your small table. "Okay, first of all, that's not the approach to crushing on someone that you think it is. Second, stay put while I get the first aid kit."

You slump forward, resting your forehead against the cool surface of the table. "Not crushing," you mumble into the wood. "Just... emotionally compromised."

"Right," Anika calls from the bathroom, where you can hear her rummaging through cabinets. "And I'm just 'casually interested' in my hot girlfriend."

"That's different," you argue, lifting your head slightly. "You two are together. You’re attached to the hip—you don’t hide from each other."

"Ha! So you admit you were hiding!"

You let your head thunk back down onto the table. "I admit nothing. I was studying. Very intensely. In locations where certain people were statistically unlikely to appear."

Anika returns with the first aid kit and a bag of frozen peas, setting both on the table. "Sit up, you disaster. Let me see your hand."

You comply with a dramatic sigh, straightening in your chair and holding out your injured hand. Your knuckles are already starting to bruise, spots of purple blooming across the skin. There are a few small cuts, probably from where you caught Marcus's teeth.

"This might sting," Anika warns before dabbing at the cuts with an alcohol wipe. You hiss through your teeth but don't pull away. "So," she continues, her tone deceptively casual, "want to talk about what really happened back there?"

"Not particularly," you mutter, watching as she carefully cleans each cut. "Can we just chalk it up to temporary insanity and move on?"

"You punched a guy for talking shit about Tara." She applies antibiotic ointment with practiced efficiency. "That's not temporary insanity. That's feelings."

You try to pull your hand away, but she holds firm. "It's not— I just— He was being gross!"

"Mhmm." She wraps your knuckles in gauze with precise movements. "And the fact that it was about Tara specifically had nothing to do with your reaction?"

"I would have done the same for anyone," you insist, even though you both know it's a lie. "It's about basic human decency."

"Right. Basic human decency. That's why you've been moping around our apartment for two weeks, taking different routes, and muttering under your breath when you think I can't hear you."

Before you can form a suitably indignant response, your phone buzzes. Henry's face appears on the screen, caught mid-laugh at some long-ago hangout.

You put the call on speaker, feeling too exhausted to hold the phone. Henry's excited voice crackles through, bursting with energy.

"Holy shit! Are you okay? That was the most badass thing I've ever seen in my life!"

"I'm fine," you mutter, wincing as Anika presses a bag of frozen peas against your bruised knuckles. "Ow! Except for my so-called best friend trying to give me frostbite."

Anika's tone is no-nonsense. "Keep the ice on, or your hand will swell up like a balloon."

Henry can barely contain his excitement. "You should have seen Marcus's face after you left. He was completely shaken. I don't think anyone's ever stood up to him like that before."

You groan, tilting your head back. "Great. Now I'll be known as the crazy chick who starts fights at parties. That'll look amazing on my resume."

"Are you kidding? You're going to be a legend!" Henry starts, then suddenly there's a scuffle in the background.

"Am I on speaker?" you ask, suspicion rising in your voice.

"No!" Henry says simultaneously with another voice declaring, "Yes!"

You recognize the second voice immediately. "Henry James Martinez," you say, using his full name—knowing how much he hates it—"Are you and Tony back together?"

"No!" Henry protests. "His place flooded, and he needed a place to stay!"

"Sure thing, Hef," you chuckle, catching Anika's amused smile.

Tony's cheerful voice joins the conversation. "Hey, heard you knocked some douche on his ass for talking shit about your girlfriend. Nicely done."

"She's not my girlfriend," you respond quickly.

Henry can't resist. "Define girlfriend."

You're ready with a comeback. "Define sharing a living space with—"

"Uh oh, bad connection," Henry interrupts, and suddenly the line goes dead. Anika bursts into laughter.

“I’m gonna get you some aspirin,” Anika offered, patting your shoulder as she passed. “But just so you know that whole ‘emotionally compromised’ thing? Yeah, that’s basically the definition of crushing.”

You make an incoherent noise of protest into the table. 

"Oh, and by the way," Anika calls from the kitchen, "you're totally teaching me that right hook tomorrow. After your hangover wears off, of course."

You lift your head just enough to deadpan at her. 

"Love you too, champ. Now take your aspirin and go to bed before you fall asleep on the table. Again."

Not long after she went to her room, you stumble into the bathroom, hand throbbing and head spinning—the former a reminder of the night’s events. The light is harsh against your alcohol-fogged brain. The tile floor is cold beneath your bare feet as you stumble to the sink, turning on the water and splashing your face.

When you look up, he's there.

Your Uncle's bloody corpse stands behind you in the reflection, that familiar crooked smile that's always been more predatory than comforting. His appearance is exactly as you remember from old photographs—that slightly manic glint in his eye, the way he holds himself like violence is always just beneath the surface.

"Killer punch," he says, leaning against the bathroom wall. No greeting, no preamble. Just direct observation.

You don't jump but roll your eyes. "Go away," you mutter, gripping the sink's edge.

He chuckles—a sound that's more bark than laugh. "I saw myself in you tonight. That rage? That precise moment of calculated violence? Pure genetics that chose you."

"I'm nothing like you," you snap, turning to face him directly. The bathroom suddenly feels smaller.

He takes a step closer. "Oh, but you are. That moment when you heard those guys talking about your girl? That split second before the punch? That wasn't just anger. That was hunting instinct."

You close your eyes, trying to block him out. "I'm not a killer. I'm not you."

"Not yet," he says, and there's something almost proud in his voice. "But you've got the potential. I saw how you moved. How you calculated. How you knew exactly where to hit to cause maximum impact."

"My dad’s a professional pig," you counter. "It’s not like I attended murder school."

His laugh is sharp, brittle. "Call it what you want. But we both know there's something inside you. Something sharp. Something waiting."

The argument feels familiar—like every nightmare, every family gathering where his memory haunted the edges of conversation, their fear of the parallels you both held. You're tired of it. Tired of him.

"I'm going to bed," you declare, pushing past his spectral form.

He doesn't disappear immediately. Instead, his voice follows you. "We're not so different, you and me."

You pause at the doorway, not turning around, as your hand tightly grips the edges of the doorframe. "We're nothing alike." 

The silence that follows is answer enough.

As you crawl back into bed, the room feels normal again—just another night, just another internal argument with a ghost who refuses to stay buried.

But somewhere in the darkness, you can still feel him watching. Waiting.

-----------

A/N:

gobble, gobble

[skylarsblue]

❁Love & Deepspace❁

Incorrect Quotes - 1 (Divider by @elfbar-baby )

Sylus: Why do I make them so uncomfortable? MC: They feel your methods, your theories are…. Sylus:Spooky? Sylus: Do you think I’m spooky? MC: I think you're silly. Sylus: Silly? MC: Silly goose even.

(Event minigame) *tower LEANS, but doesn’t fall*

Rafayel: >:3 MC: ARE YOU KIDDING?! THAT’S UNFAIR, YOU MADE T- I need to calm down. Rafayel: …(Name)- MC: Everything’s fine. I’m an adult.

- Zayne, genuinely concerned: How’s your head? MC, with a headache: Well I haven’t had any complaints yet. Zayne: …excuse me? MC: Hm? Oh! Uh- I think I’ll live.

- Caleb: You need to eat. Here, an apple a day keeps the doctor away. MC: …I’m allergic to apples. Caleb: What? No you’re not? Since wh- Zayne, appearing: Caleb: THE FU-

- *phone ringing* MC: Ugh- Wh- hello? Rafayel: Text me. *hangs up* MC: *looks at phone* What the fu-

- (OOC but shh) MC: Yeah I’m gonna try and stay out of drama, focus on work, be a better person- Tara: Guess who got caught sucking dick in the bathroom. MC: Who?! *falls out of chair*

- MC: Now is there a problem? NPC: No I don’t want no problem. MC: Yeah that’s what I thought. *steps away* NPC: walkawaylilpunkass- MC:*holds up microphone* Speak up, I couldn’t hear you bitch.

- Zayne: And what’s your reasoning for killing three people? Caleb: I mean, shit, I’m a Gemini! Sylus: I understand completely. MC:No!

- (I don’t hate Caleb but my partner does and it’s super funny)

Caleb: *sigh* Rafayel: Do you ever shut the fuck up? Zayne: What’d he do? Rafayel: Bitch gon’ breathe. Zayne: He stays doing annoying shit.

- MC: Did you drink my juice? Caleb: Yeah but i didn’t know it was yours. MC:…bitch my name. Is on. The bottle. Caleb: …🏃🏻‍♂️ MC: GET YOUR ASS BAC-

- Tara: What’re you all dressed up for? Where’re you going? MC:, going into snapshots: I’m taking selfies.

- Caleb: *enters* Rafayel: Ah hell- See I thought I was gonna have a happy day today, but then you walked in. Zayne: What did he do? Rafayel: Exist. Zayne: Why would you do that to him? Caleb: I JUST GOT HERE-

- Sylus: Okay, you’re driving pretty good. Luke: I’ve been practicing!- Sylus: But if it start raining dicks which way do you swerve? Luke , trying to remember which gear to shift in: …what?

- (IM SO SORRY AHAHAAH)

MC: Babe I just want you back- Tara: *hits stereo button to play track* MC: PSYCHE BITCH! I don’t want’chu, fuck-a you and your grandma too bitch what the fuck is up- Caleb: ?????

- Caleb: S-say it again. MC: No way José? Caleb: That’s right! WHO is José? MC: Babe it’s just a thing- 6th LI: Andale- Caleb: WHO THE FUCK IS HE-

- (Im so so sorry)

Teacher!Zayne: Pop quiz guys. Greyson: I don’t even know any of the answers- Zayne: Okay, we’ll start with an easy one. Whose wife cheated on them January 22nd? Greyson: Uhm, is it- Zayne: MINE!

- (This how quick some of y’all switched by the way)

Caleb: *holding book in the air* Haha! MC: C’mon give it back! Caleb: First you gotta say my name- MC: Alright, big daddy. Now come on give it b- Caleb: ….my name Cale-

- Sylus: You’ve been in your room all day. Kieran: No earlier I went- Sylus: You’ve been in your room all day. Kieran: …earlier I- Sylus: Don’t talk back.

- MC:Hey grandma- Granny: Can you get in the oven to clean it? MC: …….bye grandma-

- Kid: Ms.Hunter I think there’s a wanderer under my bed. MC: Hun, there’s no wanderer’s under your b- *looks* Wanderer: LONG DICK STYLE- MC: pulling out a gun: Okay, we’re leaving.

- Sylus: RAFAYEL, What, what is this? *holds up belt* Rafayel: That would be a Louis Vuitton belt, Syl- Sylus: Have you lost your mind- this is a Gucci household, gill-boy.

- MC:So you been spying on me? Caleb: I mean I was but I’m not a spy- MC: You know what they call people who spy on people? SPIES Caleb: Oo bars, but look I’m not-

- Sylus: Today’s a good day to get out of the house. Kieran: See I- I can’t fly yet. Sylus: That sounds like a you problem. Kieran: I- I’m yo s- Boss.

- MC: That’s why yo dick little- Caleb: BITCH YOU KNOW MY SHIT DETACHABLE…put the wrong one on, shit-

- Sylus: Bitch I can sing. Rafayel: Bitch sing something. Sylus: *crow caw* Rafayel: Bitch you can’t sing. Sylus: Bitch you’re right, shit-

- Zayne: Do you know where the bathroom is? Caleb: Yeah, go straight down there andsuckadick- Zayne: Pardon? Caleb: I said you gotta go straight down. Zayne: ...alright- Caleb: andIhopeyoudiewhenyougetthere. Then make a left-

[strawberryshortcake0413]

Angry man

Re2 leon x f!reader

You were raised by an angry man. Now you are the angry man. How would it change the relationship of you and Leon?

Full of yapping

Word count:1375

Working in the police station as a people pleaser was never your plan. Being the eldest daughter of your parents, a sister, and someone for your younger siblings to look up to you pressured you to become a cop.

After all, taking care of your siblings alongside your religious mother and strict father who was rapidly aging was your responsibility. A responsibility that you meant to carry, even if you didn't want to.

A decade ago, your 14-year-old self wanted to be a baker. Unfortunately for you, the man in the house you lived in threatened to kick you out if you became an useless part of society that served people.

With your fear of the man you call your father, the judgment from your mother, and the clueless endless demands of your siblings, you surprisingly did well in high school and managed to get into the academy.

Having a few close friends, and no partner in the academy was maybe the key to your success in the profession you didn't want. An achievement that mattered almost nothing to you. Except for the fancy uniform and nice coworkers (except Jack), your life is boring.

Who wants to spend their 20s sitting behind a desk, writing reports for your bosses all day, every day? Well, at least not you.

Today seemed to be pretty "normal" like every other day, till Jack walked up to your desk with a smug smirk on his face. The man was in his late 20's, with red hair and grey eyes with not so bad face. But all those traits are wasted on his asshole personality. Ever since you started working here a few years ago, being peaceful without his sexist, snarky comments was impossible. The two of you always managed to argue in a way most parents would cover their kids' ears if they passed by.

"Well well well... Y/n, look at you. Sitting behind your desk like a good girl you are. Even getting the rare chance to have a puppy following you around the station.." he signed heavily, failing to hide his smirk.

"What do you want Terrance??" You snapped at him.

"Woah woah. Calm down, grandma. Chief is calling you. You have a newbie to train" Jack said grabbing your name tag. As you stood up to the left, you managed to hit his hand.

Jack Terrance was another reason why you should quit. The ashhole of the station targeted you like he could target his gun properly.

Standing in front of the chief, you found a blonde guy standing behind you. Observing his body language, it was clear he was nervous. Maybe a little clumsy.

"Sir, I heard you called me in," you said in an emotionless tone, the one you always used at work. It's not like you have any other tone anyway.

"Y/L/N, as a young inspiring lady who knows what you are doing, I'm hoping you could introduce the station and help the new officer we have," the chief said smiling, pointing his arm to the guy in the corner, who swallowed and took a few steps to grab your hand.

"I'm Leon. Leon S Kennedy" the guy said shaking your hand as you nodded slowly.

Great. You have tons of work and now you even have double work? Just your luck. At least he was cute.

You gave him a cold glare, eyeing him up and down as you left the chief's office with him following behind you.

"So how-" he starts before you shut him up. "Organize these files in order by the date" You handed him towers of paper that sat on your desk for 2 days. The guy immediately sat down and started his work while you typed an email to a witness.

This went on for about 3 weeks. You come to work, and Leon greets you energetically (how does he do that??) every day before you give him something to waste his time on. But for the last few days, he grew more distant, almost snapping when you snap at him. Twining. Luckily Leon didn't like Jack that much too. During the lunch break, he managed to spill his opinion on how annoying Jack was to you.

"What the hell Kennedy?? I trusted you one time to properly do something and you messed it up?? How old are you?? Eight?? How can you not write a report?? You were there with me. I even explained to you"

The poor guy stared at the floor and nodded softly before standing up to rewrite the report. After work, you saw something you were not supposed to see. The poor guy was crying in the bathroom (he forgot to lock it).

Driving home you thought about your childhood when your father yelled at you for making simple mistakes as any child does. Accidentally breaking a cheap cup, and spilling water on the dining table. "When you had an angry man in your house, you always have one" seemed to be your situation.

When did you start yelling and insulting people? Instead of helping them like you did in middle school math class?

Maybe you were too harsh on him. Maybe it was the way your dad treated you. Maybe it was the way to be a perfect girl like your mom insisted. Maybe it's just you. Maybe you're just a horrible person.

Thinking about the way Leon looked at you before switching to the floor and seeing him crying in the bathroom because of you.

Maybe you are the worst person on earth. He was just a guy who didn't know better because you didn't explain him properly.

Maybe tomorrow you should try to apologize if you have the nerve. What were you going to say?? "I'm sorry Leon. I didn't mean to yell at you for being dumb. I felt bad now. So.. sorry"

You couldn't help but be embarrassed about pleading with someone. No one in your family apologized for the things they did. You didn't know how to say sorry.

Throwing your phone after realizing what you did was quite impressive. You managed to get his address. You are going to say sorry. Not tomorrow. Not tomorrow's tomorrow. Right now, In his apartment, alone.

Pressing the bell gave your ears tingle. Wow. You are so stupid. What made you think this was okay? Anyway, there's no going back since you pressed the damn bell already.

Suddenly the door swung open to reveal the blondish dude. Damn. He was only wearing sweatpants.

"Um.. hello... Kennedy" you choked out awkwardly. Leon on the other side raised his eyebrow and let you in hesitantly. He was still angry or sad? You didn't know. You were never good with emotion. The last time you cried was in middle school after your "friend" spilled your secrets to everyone.

"Listen.. about today... I want to... apologize to you. It.. it was never your fault. I should have worded things better."

Wow. You did it. Leon started at you for a few seconds before nodding a bit. "..okay.. I'll try harder to do well too" he muttered.

His eyes flickered back and forth as if he was thinking about something. After a good few seconds, he rasped a line out. "I like you, you know?"

It was almost a whisper but you heard it.

"What?" You asked, shocked. 24 years old. Still had no boyfriend, girlfriend, or anyone before. It was the first time someone said it to you.

"I liked you the moment I saw you my first day. And... I forgive you for yelling.. please.. try not to do that again... I- I felt like I was a failure" he muttered.

Who knew talking would have been this awkward? What were you going to say? Unfortunately, before you thought about anything, your body closed the distance between you by kissing his lips.

Woah. Just as you realized what had happened and were about to pull away, he grabbed your waist and brought you closer.

Well, at least today you didn't have such a bad day. Like the one where Jack spilled coffee on your white shirt (it was 100 dollars) and everyone can see your bra. (Another story)

[dropthedemiurge]

Love for Love's Sake | Things You Didn't Notice #3 | Learning Korean with the boys

I have (barely) emotionally recovered after the ending of this series, and so I'm back with my usual translation notices and cultural specialties posts ^^ Long post ahead!

// Read previous posts with translations & comments I pointed out //

This time I'll look at the Episode 3 [Yeowoon's Affection level from 0 to -99]. Disclaimer: I'm not fluent in Korean but I've been learning it for years and I've lived and studied in Korea for a while. However, in particular Sangwon and Sia annoyed me so much this episode because their banter is so funny but I cannot decipher their wordplay 100% by ear without KR subs so I have to skip over their dialogues %)

Anyway, there's still some fun language stuff to point out!

- "You're late, Senior (hyung)" - "Senior? (Sunbae?)"

Fun fact: Sangwon, who's the same year as Yeowoon, addresses Myungha as "hyung". Meanwhile Yeowoon addresses Myungha only as "sunbae". Hyung is a term guys call their older male friends (if you're familiar with Thai BLs as well, it's same as "Pi"), meanwhile gender-neutral sunbae means senior, someone who's been longer than you in the industry or some institution (like school).

If I remember correctly, Yeowoon keeps calling Myungha 'sunbae/senior' until the very end of the show. Even when they are sleeping over in the same house after school hours, Yeowoon doesn't call Myungha hyung but sunbae only. In Korea, you use titles or formal full names to people older than you or acquaintances, and you usually use names with the people younger than you. That's why, if you think about it, there wasn't a moment in show when Yeowoon says Myungha's name :D Only sunbae. And that's normal. (this is also why Myungha never mentions Writer sunbae's name at all)

Also, we'll return to Myungha's usage of Yeowoon's name a bit later.

"Keep doing it if you want to die young, Sangwon-ah." "*gasp* You call me by my name when you're mad?"

But Sangwon is talking to Myungha in a very familiar way, using 'hyung' instead of 'senior' every time, making it feel like they are friends (and most of their interaction this episode revolves around Sangwon trying to make Myungha talk to him like a close friend as well xD).

Why is Sangwon so thrilled every time Myungha calls him by his name? Because there are many other Korean words you can use for people, especially if you're angry with them (ranging from the impolite 'this guy' to swearwords). But every time Myungha gives a casual warning to Sangwon who's annoying him, he still says "Sangwon-ah", which is how you'd call your younger friend who's just being a brat. No wonder Sangwon keeps pushing Myungha to get his attention and affection^^

On the topic of names and intonation: I noticed Myungha uses aegyo (acting cute) often when he talks to his grandma. However, with other school students, like I mentioned in my previous language posts, most of the time his speech feels like a patronizing talk of a 29-y.o. adult.

But! I found that one scene when Myungha is deliberately using aegyo with Yeowoon! The reason for it is that Yeowoon finally responded and wanted to meet up after avoiding him for so long, and Myungha is extremely excited.

"Yeowoon-ie, you're waiting for hyung?~" "Don't use that voice".

Two things: Myungha calls himself Yeowoon's "hyung" which feels closer than "sunbae", he wanted to take the next step and make their communication less formal. And instead of saying friendly "Yeowoon-ah" like he always does, he changed the pronunciation of his name to "Yeowoon-ie" — which is, together with the playful intonation in his voice, is so. fucking. cute. However, Yeowoon instantly rejected his aegyo and Myungha returned to the way he always spoke x) RIP.

I already pointed it out briefly in another post but – Myungha cooked a curry rice for dinner with Yeowoon. It might not seem like anything, but I thought it was an amazing detail to show later in the series that even when Yeowoon almost forgotten about Myungha who disappeared, he kept bulk buying rice with curry (yellow packages) for his dinner.

"You act like you're my parent (guardian)." "Well, you're not wrong."

I thought that Myungha telling Yeowoon he's not wrong about him being his "parent" was a bit weird, and indeed, the word they are using here is 보호자 (bohoja), which is "guardian". It can be said about parents but also about anyone who's protecting something or someone as well. Which is exactly what Myungha is striving to do in this world and in this game. To protect and take care of Yeowoon.

"My mom split (ran away) but my dad said she died." "I wish I could split (run away)... I kept running around the field because I felt frustrated. But how could I run away?"

Here I'll need some help from native English speakers, which I'm not, can 'split' be used in this dialogue with the same connotation? Because in Korean, Myungha clearly says "My mom ran away", to which Yeowoon responds "I wish I could run away" and immediately remembering about the reason why he became a runner. And I just loved the accent the show made on this word, which got lost in Gaga subs.

"Don't slack off because you think no one sees." "Maintain your image (Do some mental training)"

This one is surely a mistranslation. The coach says "Do Image Training", in Korea and in some other Asian countries, as far as I encountered this term, this basically means "mental training", or "meditation" and has nothing to do with maintaining one's reputation.

Think "breathe in, breathe out and think how well you'll do and imagine yourself running that race before it starts".

Yeah, probably no one cared about that dialogue or scene anyway, but I hope you're still enjoying my hyperfixation on this show xD Anyway, it's been a long post and I'm done for Episode 3 — but as a bonus, let me share bonus with one of the Sangwoon x Sia scenes.

+

I tried hard to figure out the word that Sia uses when Myungha pleads her to get rid of Sangwoon, and the closest I could get was 분력 (the power of Buddha), but one thing for sure — following Myungha's begging, Sia cross-sprayed Sangwoon with perfume like holy water and ordered him like "Begone, demon!". Lmao :D

[yeonboy]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐚𝐥 ♡ choi yeonjun // mlist.

After facing disappointment with love for years upon years, you have chosen to replace romance with dance in your life, dedicating your entire time to this dance academy you’re employed at. It’s not that you hate men now, you just don’t expect to fall for them anymore because all they do is break your heart. And then Choi Yeonjun enters your life as a new recruit at the academy – sweet, adorable, soft spoken, kind and younger than you. He is everything you have never found attractive in a guy before. But somehow, you're helplessly spiraling for him.

❧ choi yeonjun x f. reader | 16+ | smau ♡ comedy ♡ angst ♡ strangers to friends to lovers!au ♡ dance academy!au ♡ 98-liner!reader ♡ dancer!reader ♡ dancer!yeonjun ♡ slow burn.

❧ warnings! profanity, an ABUNDANCE of suggestive jokes, mentions of people's sex lives (or lack thereof), death & murder threats as jokes, some of the characters being assholes for no reason, reader being a commitment phobe, a lot of pining, a ton of miscommunication (hehe ofc <3), misunderstandings, unnecessary heartbreaks + more will be added as the series progresses!

❧ featuring! all of txt | jimin & jungkook (bts) | sakura & kazuha (le sserafim) | yeji & ryujin (itzy) | keeho (p1harmony) | somi (soloist, ex i.o.i).

❧ playlist! trampoline - zayn & shaed ║ easy - camila cabello ║ lavender haze - taylor swift ♪

❧ status! 23.04.23 ⇢ tba. | on-going | bi-weekly updates

notes! heyyy, guys! yes, rya smau era 2k23 hehe! i had this idea for a very angsty fic where an older reader has feelings for a younger yeonjun but can't accept it bec he's not her "type"... but when i tried to write it, it got soooo sad and heavy soooo fast that i had to give up 😭 SO! i reckoned why not attempt to do an smau w a lighter version of this concept??? let's hope this turns out okay (:

pls be kind! the last time i wrote an smau was in 2018 so my creativity's got rust in every crevice (': but constructive criticism + suggestions are more than welcome! 🫶

❧ main masterlist | inbox ⁘

profiles: [1] [2] [3]

00. intro ║ 01. more nepotism hires ║ 02. grandpa and grandma ║ 03. break a leg (but not yours) [written: 1k] ║ 04. do you like flowers ║ 05. ✨aRtTtT✨ ║ 06. let the boy feel a woman's touch ║ 07. support system ║ 08. liking people we can't have ║ 09. it IS weird ║ 10. ‼ trouble ‼ ║ 11. connecting some big ass dots ║ 12. it's a work in progress ║ 13. dance crush ║ 14. enemies to lovers ║ 15. ohhh my god i'm so stupid ║ 16. at least that’s how it began ║ 17. we're no sidehoe material ❌ ║ 18. jealousy wasn't on my bingo card ║ 19. pesky little feelings ║ 20. why do i know so much ║ 21. it should've been me ║ 22. an overthinker AND a dumbass ║ 23. everything is a mess [written: 500] ║ 24. sum chamgo love dive it is [written: 1k] || 25. feels like a funeral in here ║ 26. let's all act surprised || 27. must start breathing into a bag ║ 28. IDK DUDE IM NERVOUS ║ 29. i wasn't jumping I SLIPPED ║ 30. wdym denial ║ [tba]

taglist: @bailies-me @samisubi @forever-in-the-sky2 @captivq @jiawji @hyuneyeon @wanlore @softcabur @emohazuzworld @yjusei @marifujioka @taekwondoes @suzirumas @ohmahgods @ye0nvibezzn @mrsyawnzzn @rionah

let me know if you'd like to be added!

© yeonboy 2023 // do not steal, copy or repost. respect your local content creators, kaythanks.

[ohmyeyesmyeyes]

social media shy

f!potterer!reader x quinn hughes

warnings: swearing

(sidenote: qhuggyhes is quinn's private account - only mentioned once)

liked by analuisacorrigan and 25,145 others

ynofficial: holy mac'n' cheeseballs i'm gonna be in vogue

view all comments

fan1: *takes deep breath* I'M SO PROUD OF YOU

fan2: no more gatekeeping, only girlbossing

fan3: we must gatekeep her from the stinky men though

fan4: you're so beautiful

fan5: i actually can't wait

liked by jackhughes and 34,136 others

ynofficial: can someone get me a cat? i'm in desperate need of a housemate that purrs when cuddled. a cat would also keep me company in this big apartment

view all comments

fan6: my grandma's cat just had kittens and she's in vancouver if you're interested?

ynofficial: ooh yes please!

fan7: what's wrong with your current housemate?

ynofficial: he smiles and falls asleep on me and leaves vancouver for work often :/

fan8: what's wrong with a smile?

ynofficial: it makes me like him even more that's what's wrong

liked by _quinnhughes

qhuggyhes: please don't play the guilt card i WILL fold

liked by ynofficial

fan9: repping lana as we should

ynofficial: the one and only

liked by drewstarkey and 33,197 others

ynofficial: meet harley!! she's so adorable i just want to cry...also she's an incredibly annoying bedmate at times (but she's cute so i'll let her off)

view all comments

fan10: you're a crazy cat lady now, welcome to the club

ynofficial: i'm honoured

fan11: i'm assuming harley is the cat?

ynofficial: your assumption would be correct yes

trevorzegras: and harley is YOUR cat?

ynofficial: stfu yes

jackhughes: i see what you did there. clever.

ynofficial: idk what you're talking about

fan12: why the sudden influx of nhl players?

fan13: i don't even know who any of them are

ynofficial: neither do i

liked by lhughes_06 and 42,192 others

ynofficial: i want you to know i take being a cat mother very seriously and that i'm going to start referring to home as HQ for personal reasons

view all comments

lhughes_06: HQ being harley and...

ynofficial: you used to my favourite

lhughes_06: what am i now?

ynofficial: on thin ice

fan14: pretty sure luke hughes has a brother called quinn

fan15: yeah he does

fan16: quinn is in the second photo and i think the last?

fan17: wait does hq = harley/quinn????

_quinnhughes has added to their story

liked by analuisacorrigan, zoeydeutch and 53,971 others

ynofficial: new 'dainty florals' set on the market!

view all comments

fan18: are you on the market too?

fan19: LMAO no

fan20: i'm analysing her hands now

fan21: POV you're here bc of that twitter thread

fan22: me

fan23: the moon mug is giving fairy garden and i love it

liked by ynofficial

liked by lhughes_06, bradytkachuk and 78,182 others

_quinnhughes: been busy lately

view all comments

fan24: babe we all know *wink wink*

fan25: that's definitely y/n

fan26: quinn rn: sorry i haven't been posting i've been having a lot of sex

fan28: everyone knows

jackhughes: and i'm still patiently waiting

liked by _quinnhughes, _eliaspettersson and 61,513 others

ynofficial: congrats on your-

view all comments

fan29: -record breaking of 263 games to assist 200 times?

liked by ynofficial

jackhughes: 🐔

ynofficial: bet

fan30: even the fucking cake is canucks themed

lhughes_06: if you don't i will

ynofficial: it's cute you think i'll let myself be blackmailed

fan31: it's impossible for it not to be quinn at this point

liked by ynofficial, trevorzegras and 71,480 others

_quinnhughes: i was told to say 'alexa play cornelia street' as a caption

view all comments

bradytkachuk: you're so whipped

liked by _quinnhughes

fan32: this is literally the same place y/n posted in her last post

jackhughes: TAG HER

fan33: jack losing his patience is all of us rn

_quinnhughes went live 3 minutes ago!

liked by ynofficial, _quinnhughes and 89,134 others

jackhughes: because these two IDIOTS are refusing to actually do anything about it, i'm taking the matter into my own hands for my and your mental health. this is ynofficial and _quinnhughes and they are 100% dating and 1000% in love to the point where it actually melts me. thank you and good night

view all comments

lhughes_06: i didn't think you'd ACTUALLY do it

jackhughes: do not underestimate me

_quinnhughes: and then you wonder why luke is y/n's favourite

fan34: WE THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE!!!!

liked by jackhughes

ynofficial: i hate you

jackhughes: you wish you did 😘😘 

fan35: i love how y/n and quinn are so private that the only way their relationship would ever get exposed is if someone did it for them

fan36: fr they fit each other so well

fan37: THEY! ARE! PARENTS!

fan38: omg y/n has a harley and a quinn in her life

fan39: HQ makes sense now

[itsgrimeytime]

Home is Where the Heart is (Part Six) || Farmer!Rick Grimes (TWD) x Teacher!GN!reader AU

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5...

Taglist: @1tsk1tty

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Inspiration: Like Real People Do by Hozier and Begin Again by Taylor Swift.

Summary: Your life was spinning out of control, you knew that. After a string of particularly shattering events, you decided it was time to start anew. With a little help from one of your Grandma's rentals, you found yourself in the small town of Alexandria. The last thing you expected was your neighbor, Rick Grimes.

TWs: none.

[[A/N: We're back babyyyy- get that cliché cooking together scene in here. Carl is significantly younger than he was in the show when Judith was a toddler, sorry. But the vibes were a young class, what can I say? I'd say he's like 7-9, making you like a 3rd grade teacher. Anyway. Enjoy :))]]

His house was what you expected -homey, and well a bit like a farmhouse. You wondered just how much of this was Rick's, and if any of it was Lori's. Did she live here?

"I built it myself," he remarked offhandedly, almost like a boast but not quite.

"What, the cabinets?" you hummed, pointing to the white, well-crafted cabinetry -you could tell there was substantial work put into them, each detail could be harbored on for-

"The house," he corrected, gathering supplies through his kitchen like he'd done it a million times before. He probably had.

"The house?"

"Yeah," he laughed, looking at you with his blue eyes, playfully, "-why? You surprised?"

"Well," you looked at him -rugged from working on the farm, you guessed, "-no. It just takes a lot to build a house-"

"'Worked on it for years," he hummed, absentmindedly, "-Suppose to be a family home, before..."

"Before the divorce," you finished, softly -carefully looking at him.

He seemed a little somber, but it didn't seem quite as painful as you imagined just after the divorce. It still hurt though, whatever reason it ended still hurt.

"Well," you spoke, playfully, "-she's missing out, I'll tell you that. I mean..."

He laughed, staring down into the bowl -a bright little grin cracking along his face.

"-it's amazing in here, really."

"Thank ya," Rick laughed a bit.

"No," you echoed, "-I'm serious. This place is, god."

Your eyes swam along all the details, imagining his own hands working on it. Each wall, each slab of flooring, the archways, the ceiling-

Rick fell rather silent, a smile slipped across his face but he seemed rather bashful, "Thank you."

"Of course," you echoed, hands fidgeting at your shirt, so you set them along the bar top -not a real one but one built into his kitchen, "-can't have a man like you shit-talking yourself afterall."

"A man like me?"

"A good man," you settled on -contemplative, "-a great man even. If you aren't the cream of the crop, then I certainly feel bad for anyone else."

If you squinted, you could see a little blush rise on his cheeks -it made you feel kind of giddy.

"Thank you," he repeated, with the same sort of serious, but lighthearted, tone. He spoke almost as if it was hitting his soul, like it really meant something to him. Like your opinion mattered then.

You wondered if it did.

Clearing your throat, you approached him in the kitchen -leisurely, "Aren't I supposed to be helping?"

"Sure," Rick grinned, something telling in his eyes, "-but I do think you were doing a great job just sittin' there lookin' pretty."

"Ha, ha," you deadpanned, before scooting into his side -almost close enough to touch, "-Now seriously, how can I help?"

"I'm serious-"

"Rick," you laughed a bit, "-let me help. You want some bacon, eggs? I can do the whole works-"

Rick sighed, a bit defeated -flipping the little bit of his hair that had hung over as he stirred back to look at you with the tilt of his head, "Fine, darlin', you can do the pancakes."

He held his hands up and stepped away from the bowl, but he didn't go far -only a mere step to the right to take the bacon out of its packaging. If you focused hard enough, you feel the heat of his body but only if you focused.

Which you weren't, not on that anyway.

"Did you already put the mix in?"

He laughed, turning to you with hands at his chest -touching raw meat, "Ya never made pancakes from scratch? Did ya also get fed with a silver spoon?"

"Don't-" you started, pointing the spoon at him accusingly, "-my Mom used plastic, first of all, and I know what I'm doing, obviously. But if I didn't, what else would you put in the mix?"

He only laughed even harder.

It took you about ten more minutes and a Google search to finish the pancakes, and the whole time -because he was already finished- he leaned up against the counter and watched you.

"Here you are, loverboy," you sat the stack of pancakes on the table -they were small, but still seemed to be good in quality. They would be eaten, Rick assured you of that.

"You still on 'at?" He hummed, tilting his head slightly.

"Sure," you responded, "-you still on darling?"

"Touché," he chuckled, holding a piece of bacon towards you, which you politely refused, and then decidedly popped it into his mouth, "-let me get the kids up. One minute, just wait 'ere."

"Okay," you hummed.

You let yourself get lost in the house then, fingers tapping along the counter. The kitchen was so well-crafted, you absentmindedly decided one day that you'd ask him to build you a house.

Or you could have this one, your mind chimed, traitorous.

Waving the thought away, you slowly stepped off the tile and back into the entry. Looking down the hallway, where you saw not a soul, you ventured a little further into the house. Just a little peek wouldn't hurt.

Your footsteps echoed along the floor, as you guided yourself into the next room -the dining room. All along the walls were a slew of family photos and drawings, each with sturdy frames -treasured. You smiled for a moment, finger coming up to touch the wooden frame of a drawing -one where it was Rick (obviously by the bright blue dots where his eyes were) and a little boy by his side who was wearing a cowboy hat.

His son, you remembered.

You hadn't actually met him that first day, he'd never come to help -Rick said he was working on a "masterpiece". And seeing his work now, he most certainly could have been.

You weren't even actually sure of his name.

With that passing thought, you flickered through a few family photos -ones with Lori. It said a lot about a man when he put up photos of his ex-wife, a lot of good. Even for whatever reason they divorced, Rick kept her in their lives. That was really important.

You scanned the wall, looking for wedding photos -just to see if he was the kind to hang them. But you were left empty-handed. Huh, you guessed that made sense-

Your eyes settled on a photo, silencing your train of thought -it was Rick. He was turned to the side, in a professional sort of way, and your eyes dipped to the beige uniform and badge. Sheriff.

Well, you hummed, that must be where the hat came from.

He looked totally different -hair cut shorter and completely clean-shaven. Blue eyes still bright as ever, he suited it. That being said, you think he suited his look now better. He was very relaxed, at peace, and seemed to be doing what he wanted in life. In some sort of way, you could tell Rick was built for what he did, including being a Dad.

Your fingers extended, maybe just one little touch-

"If ya wanted a tour, darlin', you coulda just asked."

"Jesus, fu-" you spun on your heel, ears hearing the little mutters of kids so you corrected, "-Christ, Rick you scared me."

He was grinning, leaned against the doorframe with casual ease -how long had he been watching you? The stance indicated much longer than you initially thought.

"You did seem focused," he hummed -standing straight, "-what were ya lookin' at?"

You paused, lips snapping shut -no way you were telling him that. Luckily, you heard some clanging echo out for the kitchen, and settled on deflecting, "Oh, look at that, sounds like your kids are getting into something they shouldn't. You should probably deal with that."

It came out a little nervous, rambly even, but all Rick did was grin -shaking his head in disbelief. Of what, you weren't sure.

"Carl," you heard his voice echo out into the room, "-go sit at the table. Jude, stay with me, I'll put'cha in your chair."

Carl, you thought, you knew that name from somewhere.

You heard a young voice chime back, almost in a sing-songy tone, "Okay, Dad."

Before you could think too hard on where you recognized the name from, the boy walked in. His hair was just touching his shoulders, darker brown than his Dad's, but his eyes on the other hand were an exact match -bluer than blue. It was a little unnerving, actually.

"Hey," he crossed his arms, "-I know you, you're the neighbor Dad keeps talkin' 'bout."

"Uh, yeah," (he talks about you?), "-I'm Y/N, nice to meet you."

"My name's Carl," he smiled big and wide, holding his hand out to shake -cute.

You laughed, accepting the shake, "Very professional, Carl."

He grinned, proud of himself, before standing beside a chair -he seemed to know the exact one to sit at. Maybe it was where he sat every time? Now that you counted, there was exactly enough chairs for one guest (4 to be exact) -for Lori at one point, you realized.

Something in your heart tinged.

"You can sit beside me," Carl offered, even going as far to pull the chair beside him out.

"I'd be honored, Carl," you smiled, before looking back to the kitchen, "-Just let me help your Dad first. Save it for me, okay?"

He nodded -enthusiastically, sitting into his chair and holding the other's arm with a firm grip. Protective. You wanted to laugh at the sight, but bit it back -wandering back toward the kitchen.

Rick was there, organizing the plates of food, and Judith stood by his side, making relentless grabby hands. Something in your chest warmed at such a domestic sight, you let it simmer under your skin for a second.

"You need some help?"

He spun to look at you, letting out a nervous laugh, "Could ya? I can get the pancakes, and the plates-"

"Daddy," Judith pouted, "-up, up."

"Jude, just a second, okay? Daddy's gotta get the food-"

"Rick," you put a hand on his arm, "-I've got it, go sit down."

His eyes flickered to your hand for a moment -something in your fingers tingled, before connecting with your eyes, "I couldn't ask ya to-"

"You're not," you corrected, "-let me do this. Think about it. When was the last time you were served breakfast and not the other way around?"

Rick pursed his lips for a moment, reaching for one of the plates, "'s been a while, but I can help, darlin'."

You silently grabbed his wrist, and he turned his attention back to you, "Think of it as a thank you for the breakfast."

Rick sighed, and you dropped his wrist (fingertips warm and fuzzy) -stepping back from the counter with his hands in mock surrender, "Alright."

"It'll only take me a few trips," you explained, "-plus, I've already got a seat, Carl's saving it for me."

Rick wanted to say something to that, but Judith was persistent -tiny hands pulling at the fabric of his pants. With a long exhale through his nose, he scooped her up.

"Thank you," he hummed, soft and gentle and sincere.

"No problem," you smiled, teasing, "-loverboy."

He laughed a bit, a sort of flicker smoothing across his eyes. You didn't really know what it was, but it was warm, you knew that much. It made your throat run a little dry and your heart beat a little faster -you tried to school your face into something neutral.

Breakfast was... good. Not even just in the physical sense, which it very much was, but in general; it was a homey sort of experience, Carl chattering away, and Judith using a tiny fork to pick up bits and pieces of her food. Every once in awhile she'd play peekaboo with you, and you couldn't find it in yourself to stop smiling.

Carl asked you a lot of questions, but you answered them without a smile of hesitation.

Rick, though, was strangely silent. You didn't hear from him in any of the discussions, and his low gravel was decidedly absent to your ears. Pursing your lips, you chanced a glance at him and instead found him looking straight at you.

Blue eyes concise and focused, he seemed to be watching you, a little in awe. A sort of gaze that rooted you to your chair -a fondness far too much than you thought he would've had for you. Your eyes flicked back to the kids, who were both distracted by each other.

"You're really good with 'em," he spoke, slow and appreciative.

"I try," you quipped, before falling a bit more serious, "-I was really worried... when I started teaching, that I wasn't going to know how to deal with the kids."

Rick watched you for a moment, food forgotten, "It doesn't come naturally to ya? 'Sure seems like it."

"Thank you," you smiled -a little bashful, "-but you didn't see me before."

"There's no doubt in my mind 'at you were perfect, darlin'," he countered, blue eyes in a fuzzy haze -drifting across your face, "-in fact, I don't believe I can quite see a flaw."

"What," you questioned, bringing a bite to your mouth, "-with my teaching?"

"With you," he corrected, eyes still holding the contact as he slipped his coffee.

"Well," you cleared your throat -heart beating a thousand miles a second, "-there are definitely some people who would disagree with you on that."

"None of 'em 'at matter," he offered -so sincere, you almost had to blink away tears.

Your mind drifted to your city job, your... ex-fiance, and the aftermath of it all. You had really loved him. Now, you bet he had little to say about you positively.

"Darlin'?" His voice pulled you out of your head, "-Everythin' okay? Thought I lost ya there."

"I..." you started, but your words didn't come out -instead your tone trailed off into silence.

"You wanna talk about it later?" He offered -eyes flickering to his kids, warm and inviting, but not at all pressuring, "-Don't 'ave to, only if ya think it'll help."

"Would you?"

"Would I what?" He asked, seeking clarification.

"Listen," you hummed, "-it isn't very fun to just... listen. Especially about someone's problems-"

He grabbed your wrist, which sat unmoving on the table -rough fingertips brought you back, "I'd love to listen to ya. Whatever ya wanted to talk about, I'd be happy to."

"Yeah?" You offered, soft, "-You're a busy man, Rick, are you sure you can-"

"I'll make time for ya," he hummed, fingers leaving your arm -warmth in their wake, "-you're more important than that other stuff anyway, darlin'."

Your heart fluttered in your chest, but you merely noted it, "You're a farmer, don't you need to tend to your farm? Isn't that like grueling, time-consuming work?"

"I can adjust, get some stuff done faster," he muttered, "-what? Ya don't think I can do it?"

"No, I just..." your mind dipped back into the city and feeling lonely even though there were people all around you.

Rick must've noticed something flash through your eyes, as his hand hesitatingly threaded into yours on the table, "I'll make time for ya, promise."

And you somehow believed him.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Chapter 3 - Before The Day Is Over

"Michael?" the red haired beauty asked from the bed, where she was embroidering a dress. "Why did Gallant kill his grandma?" Langdon was sitting on the chair, writing tirelessly at his laptop. His fingers stopped typing, and he blinked for a second, thinking of a proper answer that wouldn't upset her innocence... Too much. "He has been lied to, and oppressed, by a person whom he deemed trustworthy family. His lonesome neediness brought him to desperation once he found out his beloved grandmother sold his life, for a slim chance of living, knowing very well that Venable's rules prohibited fornication." he watched with careful eyes as the woman garbed in grey rags - O, how he hated that unseeming outfit on her. While all the most worthless of pieces of stale meat were enjoying fine silks and royal treatment, she was forced to scrub the floor with her own delicate hands, and see to their every capricious whim. Her fingers tightened their grasp around the soft material of the dress, and her brows furrowed. "And... Why would she tell on her own grandson? Why would she bring him to the gallows herself and cut the rope holding the guillotine above his neck? Acting as judge, jury and executioner from the shadows, against your own family... That is..." she bit that plump, pink bottom lip of hers, and how enticing she looked. "Because, my darling - People are inherently evil. When a situation such as this arrives, where their lives hangs in by a thin thread of hope, they would trample over each other like cattle, just to survive." the blond arose from the chair, and with his hands behind his back, he slowly paced along the bed. 

"But you said you could take all of us, or none. The matter of empty spots was not a problem. And you refused to disclose any such criteria of choosing. They all thought they had advantages and disadvantages over one another... Yet you clarified it was not the age, nor the body that you analysed, but who they are as persons. Acts of betrayal and the impulsivity of revenge did nothing to aid their case nor secure a spot to the Sanctuary." Michael found himself smiling at her. He missed such talks with her so much. It wasn't that she didn't understand the reason for people's evil actions, but that none had any justification, except the fickle emotions tainting their ration. Humans were so easily... Corrupted.

"That is just the nature of mankind, my darling, there is little one can do about it. God - If there even is one out there - Created us in his image, though he cursed us all, because of a single mistake that the first generation did. Even then, the snake with the silver tongue was able to bewitch those two into sinning... But was it the snake's fault for speaking the words it was created to whisper, or Adam and Eve's fault, for listening and choosing to disobey their father? Likewise, it is the gun's fault that one man died from a bullet, or the person pulling the trigger?" Katrina tilted her head upwards, her eyes meeting his own voluntarily, for the first time since they've been reunited. "I would much rather die than allow any harm to come your way, Michael." she admitted in such a delicate voice, that Michael's smile only widened in disbelief. Such a bold declaration of selfless, pure love was something that she would be capable of vocalising. In a swift move, Langdon found himself sitting on the edge of the bed, his hands on her face, eyes wide in wonder, star-struck as though he was seeing Divine Providence, the same way a leper was cured by Jesus from his leprosy, and Lazarus was resurrected four days after his death. "I know, my sweet angel, I know." he said, planting a kiss on her forehead. "You have always been sacred." Michael reached for the needle and the dress, throwing them far away, in a corner. When the beauty attempted to protest, she was silenced by the man shifting his position to kneel between her legs, his hands holding her own.  "No, Michael, I-- I need to finish this dress before the Masquerade!" she whimpered. "I-I don't... I don't want to get punished for disobeying!" he could feel her trembling under his touch. "The last person who dared tell Venable that you are the leader here got... Severely punished." the fear she was so evidently displaying almost aroused him, were it not for the power trip of that wretch who dared terrify his beloved. "My love, what is there for you to fear anymore? Venable's word will mean nothing to you, once we've departed for the Sanctuary." he reassured tenderly. "Your beautiful fingers are bleeding, my darling. How many times have you pricked them, in you attempt at rushing the heavy work?" "Don't blame my incompetence on the work I have been assigned to do." she muttered, snatching her hands back and holding them to her chest. "Until the day that we leave, I have no choice but to obey the rules instilled, be them fair or not." "I will not allow you to do such a silly thing." the man chuckled, leaning closer to her. "You and I will go together to Venable's silly party, and you will be wearing the most beautiful dress there is, and your gorgeous hair will be let loose to dance around you every time I twirling you into my arms - All that, just to spite that self-important bitch who dared torment you." his voice, hushed yet dark, held an ominous tone to it.

Langdon's fingers gingerly trailed down, from her cheek to her jaw, and down to her neck, and to her cleavage, where he began unbuttoning the shirt-like dress with the colour of dust. She said nothing, though she needn't, as her cheeks were a shade of the deepest red. She felt the sash holding the apron over laxing and being set loose, and onto the ground. She felt so vulnerable, being unburdened by another, though she needn't be, as she had slept in his own shirt, just two or three nights prior. Why was it so different, so... Intimate, when another was doing it, looking so deep into her eyes, like a hawk watching its prey... No, rather, like an artist watching his most beloved masterpiece... His magnum opus. For Michael, the woman laying underneath him so timidly, like lamb with the softest, whitest fleece, was his salvation, the single spark of light in the endless pit of darkness, in which he felt himself succumbing like quicksand. She was that single, thin spider web string of silver hope on which he alone was clingy onto, like a man lost at desert, desperate for his oasis.

"Will you ever be able to forgive my unsightly behaviour, my love? I have been waiting so long... I have been pining so long... And search far and wide, agonising over the thought of having allowed you to be lost in this mayhem. I cannot bare living in a world without you, it is half a life, if even that much. Stumbling alone in the dark, without you was what most would describe as torment." his words were seducing, yet sincere. "I have wished to help you remember on your own, at the pace you needed for you to feel safe. I wished to earn your trust, naturally, and for you to develop your own feelings for me, the same as you did back then, when we were so young and impressionable, and so, so innocent." the man sighed, feeling his own arousal burning him hotter than the blight of hell, as though he was walking on brimstone. "But I cannot resist the temptation whenever you are around me. I feel suffocated with desire whenever I see your beauty, and my heart stops with love when those green eyes of yours gaze at me so tenderly. My whole body trembles with greedy concupiscence, just feeling your sweet perfume... And my skin immolates with every spot you touch." his body over hers, unveiled in the warmth of candlelight, the way God created them, Katrina's chest, glued to his own, could feel the rapid and uneven beating of Michael's heart. Her whole body felt incinerated with a hazy sensation of kindliness and heat, a sort of comfort that... Seemed to be transcend her into new planes of existence. "Michael?" she found herself whispering as she wrapped his slender arms gingerly around his torso, pulling him even closer to her, if that were even humanly possible. "Tell me something. Anything. I want to hear your voice." "I love you." the woman let out a soft gasp - She couldn't understand how, or why, but she could feel the honesty of his soul. "... Do you mean it?" she asked, wishing to feel the gentle caress of truth washing her in waves again. "I have loved you since the first time I saw you." he admittance was gospel. "Michael." she whispered. "My soul can... Feel... That your words hold candour. I cannot explain how or... Why... But I can feel it." Michael shifted his body so his own arms will be embracing his lover, one arm around her body, the other, serving as rest for her head. He leaned down to touch his forehead to her own. "As a witch, you were able to feel when people lied to you. It is a variation of one of the Seven Wonders, namely Divination. You are reaching new steps in your awakening, my love. Familiarity is helping you remember who you are." the adoration of his voice, praising and encouraging her so tenderly, made her feel as though she couldn't breathe, yet for once, it wasn't out of fear. It was an overwhelming sense of endearment and fondness. "Have we done this before?" the pink peonies in her cheeks glowed with heat, speaking so sinfully. "No." he smiled. "We were so young back then, and the world around us was dictating our every action. It is different now. It is just you and I, my sweet angel. Just you and I."

Morning had arrived faster than expected, and Langdon's eyes shot open, his head tilted to the side. A velvety curtain of scarlet hair was draped all over the beautiful woman cuddled so peacefully in his arms. She hadn't woken up yet. It was the sole night when she hadn't been tormented by nightmares. Michael was satisfied with the outcome. Not only was his sweet angel sleeping so tranquil, but the events of the night kept replaying into his head, making his smile in delight. Every new expression that he's never had the privilege of witnessing before, and every honeyed thrill she sang to him made him shiver with lust and greed. What a sinner he was, indulging in every one of his hedonistic desires, with the woman he cherished endlessly - She made him feel insatiable, forever hungry, only for her. Though he wanted to spend more time bathing in her restful grace and feel her chest going up and down with every breath she took, to feel the soft crimson locks around his hand and he idly plays and caresses it...  He had work to do. So much work, that ultimately will lead to the supreme climax of each and every one of these worthless urchins dying a most painful death. They deserved it. They were all tainted. Disgusting. Predictable. 

They were all so flawlessly human.

Michael carefully got off the bed, admiring the way his beloved looked, swallowed in his dark, disheveled shirt, the blanket only half draped over her body, and he went to get ready to leave the room. He got off on tempting and toying with all these idiots. She was going to be safe in his room - After all, who'd dare sneak in? Except for the dumbass couple whom he indirectly seduced into searching for his well-written words and finding out the regulations on their own, and encouraging them to sin.

Whilst away, Langdon's door was kicked open, and from inside the room, the red haired Grey squealed in fright, jumping to her knees, wrapping her body instinctively with the blanket. Squinting her tired eyes, she saw Miss Mead and Venable, along with two other large, muscular women who served as henchmen. 

"You know the regulations, Grey." Venable spat, even more disgust, as it was Langdon she was fucking, and not one of the many survivors. "A smart person learns from other's mistakes, they say. Evidently, your spot as a Grey, along with your blatant disregard for the rules, proves that you have earned your spot here for your sheer stupidity." how could they know? Who told them? Who spied on them so shamelessly, like disgusting lechers? "Take her."

At once, the two henchwomen stomped by the bed and one slapped the ant's face so hard that she fell back on the bed, while the other one buried her meaty hand into the cascade of crimson hair, and with inhuman force, she dragged her off the bed. She wasn't allowed to get up and walked  by herself properly - Instead, the first one grabbed her other arm and they roughly got her to the punishing room, where she was thrown to the hard ground. "Do we kill her, Miss Venable?" "Not yet." the woman tapped her cane next to the pitiful form of the woman shaking violently with fear, her face wet with tears rapidly falling down. "Did you think you were smart? Shamelessly seducing and opening your legs for the Cooperative man, thinking he would bring you to the Sanctuary? You are a disgrace for womankind." Katrina looked so tiny and insignificant, huddled into the wall, hoping to just disappear from the world. "Do you know who told us?" the girl shook her head. "You should." Venable smiled venomously. "Langdon." "He didn't." Katrina spat in a tone low and harsh. Venable laughed mockingly. "You shouldn't delude yourself so desperately, stupid girl. Accept reality. Your plan failed, and Langdon abandoned you. In fact, he is pushing for a death sentence, all things considered. Perhaps you hadn't performed to his satisfaction." the three other women laughed tauntingly. "Stop lying. I can sense your lies from a mile away. I know it wasn't him." were it not for her new-found ability, the frightened lamb would have never dared, speak back to a person of authority... But somehow, she had faith and certainty that Michael hadn't betrayed her. Last night was genuine - All of it. Every little thing they did, every declaration, every confession - They were all sincere. Were it not for Michael, she wouldn't have had courage. She wouldn't have seen any meaning in protesting or fighting back. Loneliness was dark and depressing, and solitude was her greatest pain for so long, something beyond her control, something that eats away at her very soul, little by little, eroding at her very core. Michael was different. Michael knew her. Michael was SEEING her. Michael loved her.  "Delusional whore." Venable spat with anger. "Miss Mead." she called out her right hand's name. "The whip."

The burly woman smiled with sadistic glee as she took the black whip into her hand, and with extreme precision and accuracy, she cracked it against the expensive cashmere of Langdon's shirt hanging shapelessly from her body. Venable felt such perverse satisfaction, imagining the Cooperative wretch having flesh being torn from its bone from the repeated whipping, though the annoyingly pitched shriek from the sobbing ant was beginning to get on her nerves. "If you want this to stop, tell us what you know of Langdon." "Nothing! I know nothing! We j-just met! Wh-Why would h-he disclose c-clas-sified information t-to some G-Grey?!" the tortured soul stuttered in searing agony, but the torment went on, and on, and on, with more degrading comments and humiliation. "Stop! Please, stop! I can't take it anymore! It hurts! Please, I beg of you, stop! Stop! Stop! Stop!" but she was so lost in her own personal hell that she didn't hear the door opening, Venable and Mead leaving, letting the other two henchwomen finish the job. "STOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOP!!!!!!!!!!!!" her broken shriek that rawed her throat so much that it bled. And then it all stopped.

Only her distressed, broken weeps were echoing through the small, blindingly white room - For how long, she was unaware - But she heard her name being called, by the velvety voice of her lover, who was standing in the door frame, eyes wide with shock at the carnage painting the room like a religious mural. "My love?" though she was unable to move or look at him, she felt comforted by his presence. "What did they do to you?!" Michael rushed to her side, angrily stomping on the discarded leg of one of the torturers, and he fell next to his beloved. He wanted to throw his arms around her, but seeing his shirt being torn to ribbons and shreds. Her flesh was painted red, slashed and abused by the leather rope of the whip. How dare they commit such an atrocity? Didn't they know such folly deserved eternal torment in the deepest pits of hell? Had Dante Alighieri written Inferno for no reason? "I-It hurts so much, Mickey, it hurts so much. I f-feel so weak, I... I feel like -- Like I'm dying." she finally dared twist her aching body to hide in his arms, her fingers holding onto and wrinkling his coat with decrepit strength. "My darling -- Look at me. Look at me." he placed his hands on her pale cheeks, looking at her exhausted, sweaty face, hair aimlessly sticking to her face. "Remember how you healed me, my love? You can do so for yourself. Let me help you." her breathing was ragged and hot, gritting her teeth in sheer agony as Langdom gingerly removed the scraps of black shirt from her body, leaving her bare and vulnerable before his devilish eyes. "Do you trust me?" his hands held hers, giving them a reassuring squeeze, his lips almost touching her own. His whispery voice sent a shiver down her spine. "Venable said you were the one who betrayed me." she replied, a pained vibrato in her voice. "She said you were using me for your own lecherous needs, and that you have abandoned me." "And do you believe her?" the man frowned, feeling wrath taking over his senses. "No." Kat smiles delicately. "I knew she was lying." she continued, taking a few deep breaths to keep herself awake. "It only reinforced my trust in you." the man captured her lips, tasting like salted caramel from all the tears, distracting her from the slight sting of guiding her hands over her body. 

"Good." he muttered, his lips moving along her jaw, and to her neck, in trails of romantic kisses. "It was Andre." he admitted the truth, gazing lustfully through hooded lids at the lewd and salacious imagery before him, an angel covered in blood, smearing it all over her body, like a temptress succubus attempting to seduce him. "He was jealous on us." he continued, inhaling a sharp breath, arousal heightening his senses. "The other two were told on, by him also. Nearly died." with each trace of her wounds, they would heal rapidly, until no sign of whip, nor scar existed on her soft flesh. "Venable cooked and fed him his lover, who cheated on him. If he cannot have sexual gratification, no one is allowed to know bliss." "Fool." Kat moaned, feeling her strength returning, bit by bit. "Will you take him with us?" "Not even in his dreams." Michael scoffed, and once all of her injuries were healed, he brought her into an embrace, uncaring of the blood stains on his expensive, elegant clothes. "Nobody who hurts my sweet angel should hold any hope of living." he scoffed, taking off his coat and wrapping her in it, like a blanket. "Let us return to my room, sweetling." he picked her up in his arms with ease, only to realise his mistake, as he exposed her to the eviscerated bodies of the henchwomen, body parts splattered everywhere.  "Wh-Who did this...?" the girl whimpered, bewildered and unable to comprehend what she was seeing. "You did." he smiled tenderly at her. "No, I -- I couldn't have! How could I?" she gasped, looking in disbelief. "There is a limit to the pains a delicate angel like yourself can endure. You must have been so desperate to make it all stop, that your innate powers acted up on their own to protect you." he explained, swiftly stepping out of the accursed chamber. "Will you ever have it in your heart  to forgive me for not being there to protect you?" he placed her on the bed, his eyes desperate and sorrowful for his failure. "What is there to forgive, Mickey? You were not there - I know you would have intervened. I know you would have saved me." she smiled tenderly at him. "Would I be too daring, were I to ask to wear your shirt instead? I love the material of it." Michael chuckled, amused, as his nimble finger unbuttoned his shirt and helped her dress it. "May I... Also... Ask for one of your rings?" Michael looked down at his hands, and picked the smallest one he had, before gingerly slipping it on her thumb.  "You used to wear jewellery every time we met. Rings and bracelets and necklaces..." his nostalgic smile seemed to afflict her also. "But my favourite accessory of yours have always been..." with a swish of his wrist, he created a flower crown made out of black roses, and placed it on top of her head. "Flowers." "I really love flowers." she smiled bashfully, looking down as her fingers delicately traced the ring on her thumb. "Thank you, Michael."

Doomsday was approaching at an unexpectedly fast pace, and the Halloween Masquerade that got everyone so excited was knocking at their door. Venable thought she was being smart, she thought the poisoned apple plan was her own witty idea. If she cannot be saved, no one else can. If only she knew she was the one being played, and the tale of Snow White was going to have a tragically fatalistic tale - For everyone but Snow White, that is. The ugly hag was going to get painfully dismembered by the Prince, and she will never get the chance to harm his beloved Snow White princess. The seven dumb dwarves can die, for all he cared - None meant anything to him. It was only her. Only his angel.

"Would you like me to tell you another one of the angel and demon's adventure, my sweet flower?" the man asked, getting in bed next to his beloved. "No." she turned to him, her palm placed on his bare chest. "I want you to tell me of our adventures, instead. No more metaphors or allegories. Just us. Kat and Mickey." Michael looked at her, and he offered a boyish grin, engulfing her in his arms. "I would be delighted to!" he felt so giddy, like a child being gifted a puppy. "It all happened so long ago, when we were young children, and you found me in the forest..."

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[underworld-office-fan-acc]

Uh, hi. I have question. How good is everyone here with riddles?

I got a fitting one (found it online): What room do ghosts avoid?

tbh its more like a pun though. that's the only hint I'll give. have fun :]

That's so silly I'll give it to you XD

_____

‹Eugene›:

★ Surprisingly not actually good at riddles nor puns despite being the no.1 overthinker™.

★Feels maybe a bit embarrassed if they get the answer wrong.

★ Will go "hmmmmmmm....." for a while to think about the answer despite it being simple.

★ "Oh! The bedroom because the bed reminds them of the coffin they're lowered in!"

★They tried.

‹Boss›:

★ Doesn't care for riddles, as he says, but will be a huge pro at it.

★ Right or wrong, he doesn't really care too much about it.

★ Ego will mentally boost if he gets it right.

★ "The living room." If you squint your ears, you can hear amusement in his voice.

★ You can question how he's so good at it, but he genuinely will keep his mouth shut. Or either says "I just am."

‹River›:

★ Not really much of a riddle solver. But she does like puns.

★ Honestly will keep guessing if she gets it wrong.

★ Somehow will make up answers on the spot without missing a beat.

★ "Bathroom? No?- Bedroom!— oh! Oh! The living room!"

★When she realize the meaning after a pause for few seconds, she will BURST our laughing. Holding her stomach and everything, miss ma'am finds everything funny.

‹Hayden›:

★ Mf does not understand riddles. He will look dumbfounded.

★ Typically will go for the more obvious answers his little brain could think of.

★ Never answered a pun before ngl

★ "The church?...living room? Why???"

★Once you explain it to him, he'll go "Oooohhh...." before giggling.

‹Joan›:

★ Not good at riddles, but knows the specific ones she's heard.

★ Take why'd the chicken cross the road for example.

★ She genuinely smiles a bit at the silly jokes.

★ "The....living room."

★Does a little endearing chuckle you'd hear your grandma do, it always sounds sweet to the ears.

‹Sean›:

★ Awkward giant doesn't really do riddles or puns.

★ He's not actually good at it, too busy working for goofing around :(

★ Maybe stutter a bit since he was caught off guard.

★ "Uhm...the church?"

★ You might want to tell him he's wrong, but he looks so sad you couldn't bring the heart to.

‹Charlie›:

★ Hates riddles. Their father used to question them to test their limits with it.

★ Claims to not be good at it, but will literally answer within seconds.

★ Yet her annoyed face remains unchanging.

★ "The living room."

★Then cue her walking away.

‹Mike›:

★ Actually really likes puns over riddles.

★ Giggles and kicks his feetsies mentally but will just chuckle on the outside.

★ He's a goofy guy no wonder he's good at these kind of things.

★ "The living room! Hehehe!"

★ What a stupid silly guy.

‹Luke›:

★ People would usually think this guy was a more serious man.

★ He's actually secretly a huge pro and riddle lover.

★ Has a cheeky grin after he answers, finds these little things so funny.

★ "Pfft...the living room."

★ Will cackle like an idiot.

‹Joy›:

★ She's so serious about these for some reason, like she just wants to be right.

★ Will take a while to think.

★ Thinks that one answer wrong will be the end of the world.

★ "The living room!"

★ Goes "Yes!" And pumps her fist in the air if she gets it right. Becomes devastated if she didn't.

‹Oliver›:

★ Genuinely confused, mf is actually stupid.

★ Does NOT think for a while and will just blurt out a random answer without a care.

★ He's just a little silly,,,

★ "The graveyard?"

★ Yeah Joy teased the hell out of him for getting it wrong easily.

‹Finley and Tatum (Teenagers)›:

★ Finley will actually try to think hard of the answer, while Tatum immediately says it out loud.

★ She's not really good at this kind of stuff...but Tatum is a little serious about it.

★ Both of them likes getting things right.

★ "Oh! Its-" "Living Room?!" "H-hey! I was gonna say that!"

★ Cue some small bickering :3

‹Linda›:

★ Mother is sadly not good at riddles </3

★ Will think for a bit, tapping her chin like those people in cartoons thinking.

★ Her answers are funny though. That's a plus.

★ "The Boo-ouncing castle?"

★ Let's out an chuckle if you laugh, she's confused but got the flow.

[rocksibblingsau]

Honestly, I'm this close to snapping and writing a fic where Branch dies during Trollscide/the escape and Brozone having to deal with the giant grief that would have caused

Like I get it, they were kid that needed indepedence bla bla bla but are we forgetting that they (most likely, the timeline is kinda just whatever the writers/fans want) left a toddler and an elder in a TROLL-EATING TOWN AND 3/4 NEVER TRIED TO CHECK IF EITHER WERE DOING OKAY (Clay will depends of your headcanon, but I still include him for the vibes)

What they did was shitty if we are talking only real-life perspective, in the trolls world what they did was genuine heartless like Branch is extremely right to be mad bcs for all they knew he could been dead the same year that they walked-out and they shouldnt have know for like 20-something YEARS. We dont know how the three/four of them got out and if they could have taken Branch and Rosie with them or not, but like yk send a letter or some shit FIGURE IT OUT YOUR BROTHER WHO IS A TODDLER COULD BE DEAD or without a proper gardian (which is what happened by the fucking way, next-of-kin WHO)

Sorry for the rant, but like I feel that many people when writing Brozone focus too much on the 'teenagers that left home' aspect and not 'their home is the troll equivelent of a murder cult and they didnt border checking if their family, that never wronged them, was even alive or needed to be taken care of' part

Yeah the fact they left them in the troll tree is pretty messed up. I do think however there would have been no way to take them. I imagine the only reason the four of them escaped is due to the fact they ran on their own. Rosie would have been about the age she would have slowed them down, and the fact of the matter is that while all four were leaving with dreams of finding a place...

They were all leaving on what was likely a suicide mission. I imagine attempts to leave the tree had a 99% mortality rate. It's why they tunneled instead of, yknow, walking through the bars. To take a baby who Probably had a decent life spin ahead of him on a tribe that would Definitely kill him would be a tough choice to make.

Something interesting to consider is that maybe that's what their parents did. Their parents ran and left them all behind. They might think it's normal to do so in that case.

Some people take the third movie to be evidence that the Bergens were a recent development and there were only a few years of Trollstice. (BroZone left, Bergens came in, 3-5 years later grandma dies, the escape happens) Which would explain why BroZone was both able to leave and comfortable leaving Branch behind, because there was no threat of death. It would also explain why John Dory didn't react to the Bergens, he had no clue who or what the hell they were. Me personally I don't believe that, and I find them leaving under the threat of Trollstice more narratively interesting but canon doesn't tell us jack so it's within the realm of possibility.

Can I be honest about something? I'm actually not sure if Branch dying would be more traumatic to them. I think all of them were operating under the assumption Branch would one day be eaten by Bergens. JD already did think he was dead. They might have been having a 'he's in a better place and its okay' mentality.

How much worse is it to find out that no, he's very much alive, though for the longest time he wished he wasn't? Every time you told yourself he's resting, he's with loved ones, he feels no pain now; it was all a lie. He was suffering. You could have stopped it. You could have found him.

Death is tragic, but sometimes living can be so much worse.

[faefaye]

Compatibilism

Shinkane Week 2024, Day 3: Space

Summary:

Soulmates, an inexplicable bond between two people known by how they share each other's pain. Under the Sybil System, it's an outdated concept, but that alone cannot stop the universe from working its ways. In such a world, Akane Tsunemori finds herself connected to a troublesome partner.

Link to the fic on AO3.

Akane is seven years old when she hears the word “soulmate”.

Until then, it’s a thing she knows like air or grass, something that exists but that people don’t talk about or care about.

That day, there was a black cat on the road and a car veering closer.

She doesn’t think before she runs forward, wrapping her arms around the little black thing. She stumbles and falls and just clears the road when the car whooshes behind her, so close yet so far. She lies there. Her body hurts but she feels her heart in her throat more until she hears Grandma’s voice, tight with worry.

A while later, when they’re inside the house and Grandma is washing the scrapes on her arm, she says, “You should take more care of yourself.”

She knows Akane too well to ask questions like “why”. She never shouts or screams either, but something about her tone and the way her hands tremble is enough to make Akane bite her lip, her eyes watering.

“I wanted to save the kitty,” she says weakly.

“That’s a wonderful thing,” Grandma replies after a heavy pause. “But it was very, very dangerous and you could have died. I know you don’t mind getting hurt, A-chan, but it’s not just about you.”

“Huh?” Akane looks at her with wide brown eyes.

“Your parents and I. We feel when you get hurt and we would be very sad if something happened to you. It’s good you want to help everyone. Never lose that, but you shouldn’t forget yourself.” Grandma kisses a bruise. “And maybe your soulmate is out there wondering why they’re getting hurt too,” she says as an afterthought.

Soulmate. She’s a curious child and she gets Grandma to tell her more in the days that follow.

Soulmates share pain, she says, because they’re two halves of the same soul connected through space, resonating with each other. Once upon a time, it was a celebrated event to find that person. But as something that didn’t abide by hues or Crime Coefficients, it became an outdated concept in the era of the Sybil System and the literature publicly available dwindled down to nothing.

As a librarian though, Grandma can beautifully recount several famous tales from history and art. A lot of them are romantic but there are a good number of other ones too.

They’re interesting stories. None of them really stop Akane from running headfirst into matters, for anything and everything that she wants to stand up for, but it does make her think a little about the mysterious someone on the other end of her actions.

---

Akane is eighteen years old when her soulmate becomes a rather persistent matter in her day-to-day life.

In the beginning, she puts down the barely noticeable ache in her limbs to all sorts of reasons—sleep positions, overexertion, cramps. But there are only so many times it could seem unremarkable.

And then one day she almost doubles over in class, saved from the teacher’s attention only due to Yuki and Kaori. She rubs at her sternum to ease the phantom pain and helplessly worries for her soulmate.

The resonance she feels is nowhere as bad as what the actual person goes through and yet it teaches her just how many nerves the human body possesses.

It makes her wonder now and then what her soulmate is really like and what they’re doing. Whenever she feels a little uncharitable about the pain, she reminds herself that it could be part of their job, like being a professional wrestler. She wouldn’t want to stand in the way of anyone’s dreams.

Yeah… she hopes from the bottom of her heart that they’re living a life they sought.

It’s all she can do.

---

Akane is twenty years old when she meets her soulmate.

“Meet” is perhaps a charitable word, because the first sign of any such connection is when she shoots Enforcer Kogami in the back with a paralysing shot and her entire body seizes in response.

She can’t even scream at how her muscles twitch in ways she didn’t think were possible, going on for hours and hours, and his steel-blue eyes lock onto hers all throughout until they’re both crumpled on the floor.

He gets the luck of being unconscious. She wishes time would stop again less painfully so she could unravel what just happened— but there’s something to be done still.

Her memories following that are vague, but she remembers the victim falling over—not dead, not how the Dominator had taken the other life—and Ginoza’s sharp voice.

She gazes at him unseeingly for three seconds, then the world tilts sideways and goes black.

---

Soulmates. Karanomori confirms it when Akane wakes up after hours of unconsciousness. “The effects of the resonance were likely magnified by proximity and attacking your own soulmate,” are her words.

It continues to feel unreal but she watches Kogami train and her own knuckles start to hurt, she learns that he became an Enforcer more than two years ago—when she was eighteen—and there’s no way for her to deny this truth.

It’s clear the entire Division 1 knows but no one brings it up, other than Ginoza with his frequent warnings about not getting too close to her subordinates. Akane is glad society under the Sybil System ignores the concept. Even so…

“What do you think about soulmates, Kogami-san?” She gathers enough courage to ask him once when they’re on the balcony together for a break. It’s the first time either of them have ever brought up the word between them.

He pulls out the cigarette from his mouth and considers her, and she has to fight to stay calm. It’s such a silly thing but with how old-school Kogami is, she wonders how his insight will compare to what she only knows from Grandma.

Grandma, who told her not to think too much about it, but that while there’s no rhyme or rhythm to the connections to human eyes, undoubtedly they’ll meet at least once and have a life-changing influence on each other.

Life-changing is a heavy adjective to imagine with someone she’s known for a few weeks, although they’ve worked on enough incidents together that it feels a lot more.

“Well, for one, I’m sorry you got such a poor roll of the dice.”

“I don’t think so,” she says before she can think. “I’m glad for it.”

He remains still. She doesn’t look away from him. Though it wasn’t intended, she can stand by what she said.

Kogami’s kind words about her first day is the only reason she’s still here, continuing to believe that there is some good she can do. His support and guidance is why she can keep improving herself.

Huh, maybe that itself was life-changing, wasn’t it…?

“I think it doesn’t matter beyond what we make of it. After all, there’s no compulsion in the bond. It exists as a signboard at most,” Kogami answers her question at last, dispelling the awkward silence, then adds teasingly, “Although if it’ll prevent you from shooting me again, I’ll take it.”

She ends up shooting him again, this time to save his life from Ginoza's Lethal Eliminator, this time trembling and hurting as well but managing to stay on her feet.

Later, when they chase Makishima in the factory, she threatens to shoot him and he knows it’s not an idle threat.

The pain binding them has never factored into following their ideals.

---

Akane is still twenty when she parts ways with her soulmate.

When she wakes up among the golden hyper-oats, it's twilight. A drone beeps next to her, scanning her and relaying her location to the team.

As far as she looks, in this field that keeps stretching on, she’s the only figure.

The weeks that follow are a haze of exhaustion, her grief and regret buried in the routine tasks of reports and investigations.

It's only when Ginoza joins them as an Enforcer that she finally permits herself to think back to that day in detail. What did she miss? Where did things go wrong?

…what could she have done differently?

At the end of her musings, she's only left with a sinking feeling that maybe there was no other way. She doesn't believe in fate but this was a destiny carved out by human hands from the beginning, and she can't imagine a universe where they could all be the people they are and have things happen otherwise.

It’s an odd sort of comfort, even if this is an ending she struggles to accept.

---

“At any rate, this is truly goodbye. Whether I survive or die.”

She can’t forget a single word from that unexpected phone call.

Kogami is undoubtedly far away now. Whatever happens to him, the news might never reach Japan.

But she’ll still know.

Signboard indeed, she thinks when the first time after that incident, she feels a familiar pain that is not her own.

She hopes it doesn’t get worse than an ache. She hopes that free from the leash of an Enforcer, he could finally find peace.

More than anything, Akane once again hopes from the bottom of her heart, now knowing the person on the other side, that at least he is living the life he sought.

[alltimefail-sims]

"A cozy hideaway nestled by nature and gifted with waterfront access."

@awingedllama added 10 years to my life with their new Nostalgia Living set, so I built a house for you all. It combines my favorite things: 90s nostalgia and Halloween decor (Yes I am ready for summer to end). It was built in Copperdale on the 20x20 lot "Little Falls Nook."

I chose 711 for the house numbers because the Nostalgia Living Set came out on July 11th; the street name is "Winged Llama Lane" for obvious reasons, but I felt clever about it nonetheless lmao. I hope you all enjoy!

INFORMATION & DOWNLOAD BELOW ↓

Packs I used:

Normally I include the CC in my build downloads, but I'm just going to link it below and encourage you to follow @awingedllama because they deserve nothing but love and support. Their cc is some of the best build/buy cc out there and is not paywalled in any way. Thank you @awingedllama, I hope you like this house!! <3

CC I used (all by awingedllama): -> Nostalgia Living Stuff Pack -> Nostalgia Living Shoe Bench Made Functional (Snowy Escape) -> Boho Living Set -> Save File CC (windows, house details) -> Grandma's Nursery Set -> Infant Conversions -> Apartment Therapy V2 -> Pair O' Normal Plants -> TS3 to TS4 Functional Costume Chest

PLEASE NOTE: make sure you place this house down using "bb.moveobjects on"

TOU: All I ask is that...

You do not reupload and claim the build as your own (yes, even if you tweak it a little).

You tag me if you use it! I would love to see this in other people’s games and saves, that’s why I’m sharing it! <3

Additional screenshots are on my Patreon post. This build was playtested. Thank you for your hard work, Michael!

Let me know if there are any in-game issues!

DL: Patreon (always free)

@pancakesrealty