#I have.. so many thoughts about eggy but for now I just really wanted to draw her as this song

[otterronpas]

Don’t look at me! You can’t understand, right?

I‘m just like a monstrous flower that bloomed too soon

(Ref under the cut!)

[radiaking]

Reading this review of fallout that essentially says they think it’s “just okay” but not great, seeming to attribute its success mainly due to being an adaptation of a beloved game. As someone who never played before watching and thought it was a great tv show (not just a great adaptation since I had no basis for comparison), obvs I disagree. And they really had no clear basis for why they think it’s not that great and more that they just don’t get the hype. Like they enjoyed it, they want more of it, etc. but interestingly they did say they hope it’s success makes them improve not approach s2 with a “if it aint broke don’t fix it” mindset, and that I can agree with. But tbh I think this speaks to a larger problem with tv at all and not just fallout….

[mollyrolls]

if you ever listen to me, let it be this time ‼️‼️‼️ please read rot and give it the love it deserves. truly one of the best pieces of writing on this site

rot: h. iwaizumi

chapter five -> the move

(masterlist ; written content)

word count: 3.8k

now playing: school shooter by wych elm

warnings: this chapter is heavy with discussions of abuse, violence, other themes already discussed in this story, divided this last chapter in two parts and this is going to be the angst before the happy ending. when i say angst i mean angst. rest assured happy ending is coming tho

Her well-organized list of problems has been upended. A bright, shiny new problem has outshone all of her other ones, dimming them, displacing them, reducing their need for attention.

Problem #1: Iwaizumi Hajime, neighbor, definite arms-dealer, maybe boyfriend, has been arrested.

It’s hard to get people to listen to you in a police station. Cops sit at their little desks and they look at you like they’re pretending to pay attention to what you’re saying but really, all they can think about is how much better than you they think they are, and how little they care about your problems.

Matsukawa has a hand over her shoulder, not firm but not lose, like he’s ready to pull her back down to her feet if she leans too far over the front counter. She’s trying to appeal to the lady behind the front desk, (as if there’s anything she could actually do), voice raw and shaky, knuckles going white as she grips at the edge of the counter.

“Please,” she begs, her unhidden desperation feeling out of place in the clean station, where the smell of hand sanitizer and pine floor cleaner is heavy in the air. It’s far too bureaucratic for her to be like this; reduced to a pile of tears and snot, begging and pleading and being ignored like a small child throwing a fit. “He didn’t do anything to me. This is fucking insane, lady.”

“Honey,” she says, voice slathered in condescension, like she knows. Like she knows Iwaizumi’s been treating her like shit this whole time and she’s just been too stupid to realize it. Like she knows what’s best for her just because she sits behind the front desk at a police station for eight hours five days a week for semi-not shit pay and a pension. “If you want to help your boyfriend, the best thing you can do is get him a lawyer, okay? Yelling at me isn’t going to help. They can hold him for forty-eight hours, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

God, she wants to reach over this fucking desk and sink her nails into this lady’s face. Dig under her skin and gather evidence so they know it was her that did it. That desk lady’s sickly-sweet tone and fake pity had driven her to madness. A long-buried thirst for violence that makes her feel like a grade-school girl boils in her blood and it’s like Matsukawa can sense it because it’s then that his hand goes tight around her shoulder, and he pulls her back. “Thank you, ma’am,” he says, relaxed politeness sounding natural on him. “We appreciate your help.”

She doesn’t appreciate her help. She doesn’t appreciate shit. She wants to jump over the counter and make that known, but Matsukawa grabs at her arms and tugs, using a bit more force to get her away from that desk. But she makes a point to turn her head and shoot that lady one more rage-filled sneer.

Matsukawa doesn’t let her go until he’s pulled her out the front door, into the sidewalk of a busy city street. But he has no qualms about stopping her there, a dam in the middle of the sidewalk, foot traffic splitting and flowing around them. He grabs her by both of her shoulders. “Okay, you need to calm down. Like right now. Alright?”

Her teeth grind together. “I want to pop her fucking eyes out,” she spits out, like an unrepentant child, unashamed of her outburst.

“Well, that’s not going to do anything to help, so don’t fucking do that,” Matsukawa says, a bit of a bit in his voice and slightly shaking her shoulders. The air surrounding them is suffocating, hot and humid and beads of sweat are popping up on the back of her neck already. “And she’s right. There’s nothing we can do but get him a lawyer.”

She doesn’t look at Matsukawa. She hates him right now, because he’s right, and there’s nothing her blind rage and outburst can do to make it better. She focuses her stare just past him, watching the stream of tourists and college students and burdened employees that drifts down the sidewalk, past both of them. She gnaws on the inside of her cheek. “Whatever.”

He releases her then, and her gaze falls to her shoes as Matsukawa steps back from her. A hand reaches up to push stray strands of hair away from his forehead. “Oikawa’s calling his guy. He should be down here soon. We’ve gone through this before, we know what to do. Iwa’s not an idiot, he can handle himself in there.”

The combination of rage and embarrassment tastes sour in the back of her throat. “He didn’t do it,” she asserts, for no one else other than herself.

“Course he didn’t fucking do it,” Matsukawa scoffs. “Iwa has lines. Hitting his girl is way past them.”

Her mouth furls. It’s getting hotter and hotter every second there on that sidewalk. Every emotion feels too big for her body; it paralyzes her. She hates this. She fucking hates this. Iwaizumi being locked in some holding cell with the drunken disorderly conduct leftovers from the night before. Him being in there because of her.

Matsukawa sees her standing there, stiff and clenched up, and sighs. “Look,” he starts off, more sympathetic than before, and the pity makes her twitch, “why don’t you just come back to mine and Makki’s place for now? You don’t have to go-“

And then, the call of her name. Loud enough to get the attention of everyone on that sidewalk. Commanding enough that people look, just to make sure, just to double check that it’s not their name, that they didn’t make a mistake, somehow. She looks over Matsukawa’s shoulder and sees her father. Out in the open, on the sidewalk.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” he says as he approaches, broad smile sending a new rush of rage down her spine. Matsukawa raises an eyebrow at her, but she doesn’t dare to tear her eyes away from her father, looking clean in his freshly pressed uniform. Like this is some kind of special occasion for him. “I was worried help wouldn’t get to you in time.”

She blinks. There’s no room for fear in her body. “Help?” she echoes back, voice hoarse.

He moves to reach for her. She steps back, Matsukawa places himself in front of her. “When I saw how that boyfriend of yours was treatin’ you, I had to call in a favor. I got a friend that works in this district, y’know. I got lots of friends, Bug.”

Really, she shouldn’t be surprised. She feels stupid for not thinking of it earlier.

But she didn’t think of it. She wasn’t expecting it. She was completely caught off guard by her god-awful, piece of shit father.

So she can’t be blamed for her reaction.

She reaches into her pocket and fishes out her keys. A few for the sports store. Three for her apartment building (one for the front door, one for her place, and one for Iwa’s), and one to her old home she shared with her brother. She places them each between her fingers, and without very much hesitation, she punches the end of those keys into her father’s face, with as much force is left inside of her.

Pretty immediately, there’s a reaction from the stream of people. Screams, she thinks. Matsukawa’s quick to act, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her away from her now-bleeding father. But everything around her is white noise. She's numb to it. She looks at her father and she hopes the gashes will scar. “You piece of shit!” she screams at him. “I’ll fucking kill you! You fucker! You’re fucking dead!”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Her list is fucked now. She doesn’t know where rage issues fall in the new order. But probably higher than before, she would have to guess, because she’s sitting in an interrogation room.

Kageyama Tobio sits across from her, sleeves pushed up to his elbows and arms crossed over his chest. He’s leaned back in his seat, and she has this feeling she’s about to be scolded. “Assaulting a police officer is pretty serious.”

She feels dirty, humid air making her skin sweaty and salty, her hair fizzy and tangled. A bit of blood splattered on the skin of her forearm. They wouldn’t let her wash it off. “He’s not a police officer to me,” she says, words coming stubbornly out of the corner of her mouth. “He’s just my piece of shit father.”

Kageyama leans forward, bare forearms pressed against the cool metal of the table between them. “Can I ask you something?” He does not wait for the answer. “Is Iwaizumi worth all of this? Look at where you are, do you think this is worth it?”

“Can I ask you something instead?” She waits for confirmation from him. He gives her a slight nod. “Did you like PCD?”

He sighs, fingers tapping against the table. She wants to break them. “We can drop the charges on you, y’know. If you have something more valuable to give us, we’d be happy to do something for you in return.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Valuable?”

Kageyama leans back again. He adjusts a lot, she’s noticed. Moving and shifting and repositioning. She has stayed still in her seat. “Listen, I’ve known Iwaizumi for a while. All of them. I know what they’re like. I know how they can make you feel. You get caught up in it. Good people like you and me find themselves in shit situations without realizing it. But let me tell you this,” he says, severe, and a finger pointed in her direction, “Iwaizumi’s not going to give this up for anything. And you’re not an exception. As much as you think he cares about you, he cares about his job more.”

She can see her mother so clearly, then. For the first time in years. She can see her features, the details of her face. The ones she has in common with her brother. The ones she has in common with her. She can see the anger twisted into her brow like a permanent fixture. She can hear her voice, as if it’s in her ear now.

“Men like your father, they only care about one thing. And it’s not you and it’s not me.”

She lifts her head to meet Kageyama’s stare. His eyes are so sharp and so blue. “Kageyama?”

He leans forward. “Yeah?”

“Suck my dick.”

The sigh of defeat is, at the very least, satisfying. His shoulders slump and she watches the last bit of hope he was holding onto fade out of him. And at least she has that. “Well, in that case, you’re free to go. Your father’s not pressing charges.”

She stands at once, not immediately being hit the with realization that he had tried to trick her into snitching. “Fucking finally,” she spits out, her limbs feeling stiff and disjointed.

She’s halfway out the door when Kageyama says, “Yeah, well, see you later, I’m sure.”

★⋆. ࿐࿔

Iwaizumi is released before the forty-eight hours is up. She does not find out until four days after.

Most of those four days are spent numbly sitting through her shifts, face weathered and her limbs hanging from her body like heavy, led weights. She lies in her bed. She hardly eats. She checks her phone every five to ten minutes and she calls Oikawa and Matsukawa and Makki and gets their voicemails and she hears nothing.

And then, as she’s hanging out the window, smoking her second cigarette in a row, she sees him. Walking down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets and his chin up. She watches, in disbelief for a moment, waiting to see if he’s going to turn into their apartment building and run straight up the stairs and into her arms and kiss her and apologize and swear that he would exact vengeance on her father. For the both of them.

But Iwaizumi just walks. He goes straight until he is out of her view.

With shaking hands, she texts him:

so when were u planning on telling me u got out?

He does not respond.

★⋆. ࿐࿔

It’s a month before he speaks to her again.

A month after no texts and no calls and no early morning coffee visits and nothing but the creaks of his floorboards from above. It’s torture. It scratches at her throat and it puts nails in her bloodstream and she spends more than one evening laid out on her bathroom floor, sobs wrecking through her frame, clawing at nothing, trying to grab onto something.

The feeling of abandonment is not entirely unfamiliar. It tastes the same as anger, and it never comes without it. And the combination can make her irrational.

“-and my friend Tanaka has a truck,” Kiyoko says into her, her voice fuzzy from the poor connection. She has her phone pressed between her ear and her shoulder, haphazardly throwing whatever belongings she can find into the cardboard box she stole from work. “He offered to help move your stuff out if you want.”

“Yeah,” she mumbles, drifting through her apartment, stopping as she settles in front of her CD player, sitting in the middle of her kitchen table. The one Iwaizumi gifted her. She makes no move to grab it. She’s sure that Kiyoko has one already. “Maybe he could come by tomorrow. I could be done packing by then. That cool?”

“Yeah, that should work. I’ll ask when he’s free.”

She hums in response, and kicks at one of the legs of her coffee table. A lot of her sidewalk trash furniture is going to right back to where it came from. “Are you sure this is okay with you?”

“Of course!” is Kiyoko’s enthusiastic confirmation. “It’s been a little lonely since my last roommate moved out. And to be honest it’ll be nice to split the rent again.”

God, rent splitting. It sounds like a dream to her. Expenses divided in half-she almost drools at the thought of it. She chuckles. “Alright, fair enough. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, then. Should probably finish packing now.”

“Alright. See you then.”

She snaps her phone shuts and pockets it.

Even as she empties it of her belongings, the apartment is a mess. Littered with forgotten belongings and things she never had the motivation to get rid of. Things she doesn’t know what to do with. Things that she doesn’t need and can’t justify keeping but she can’t bring herself to trash. The Ponkadu mug. Her pink, fuzzy journals filled with love struck passages. A dried, dead dandelion Iwaizumi ripped from the ground and placed in her hand.

Her head throbs. She looks up at the ceiling above her, like she’s waiting for something. A creak or a slam or something. A sign that he’s still there. That he’s not as far away from her as he feels. But it’s silent, and there’s nothing. And it’s like he was never even there in the first place.

She swallows the lump in throat and returns her attention to the scattered objects in front of her. She forces herself to harden and drops the Ponkadu mug in the trash. Then the journal. Then the dandelion. And she thinks to herself, bitterly, like she’s in an argument with herself, that it’s not like he was never even here in the first place. The evidence of his existence is all over her. It lingers in her lungs, in her chest, it spreads through her bloodstream. Iwaizumi’s there, causing every ache and every sting and every throb. He’s there.

Something possesses her. Everything can go in the trash, suddenly, it doesn’t matter what it is. Plates and freezer-burnt ice cream and a half-empty first aid kit. Anything with the lingering presence of Iwaizumi is getting dumped. Trashed. Left rot and fester in some landfill. And after an hour passes, her apartment is covered with bursting, heavy black trash bags of her wasted belongings.

She sits on the floor, shoulders slumped, legs crossed. She already threw out her couch. Her mattress is sitting on the floor of Kiyoko’s apartment, in the bedroom that will be hers by tomorrow. So for now, all she has is the rotted hardwood floor, where Iwaizumi told her he’d marry her.

Her throat tightens. She cannot get out of here fast enough.

Sweat droplets form on the back of her neck as she stands, ready to start hauling bag after bag out to the presumably already overflowing dumpster behind her apartment building. Her knees knock together as she stands, and she moves towards her door, ready to prop it open with one of the trash bags.

She undoes her deadbolt. Then her chain lock. Then she opens the door, and Iwaizumi is there, hand raised to knock.

At the sight of him, her throat tightens up, and she is immediately, torn split between her rage and her desperation. As much as she wants him to hold her, to make her promises and give her the comfort she’s been craving so desperately for the past month, she wants to bite his head off just as much. To make him hurt the way he hurt her. To tear him up from the inside.

Instead, she stares, blankly, somewhat horrified. Her heart beats heavy in her throat and her ears get fuzzy. He looks the same. That makes her angry. She wishes there was some change, some difference. But the Iwaizumi that said that he loved her in her kitchen and that he’d marry her on her floor is the same one that left her to rot on her own.

He steps into her apartment, right past her, like he still has the right to, and looks at the state of it. Everything packed up. Everything scattered. He looks at her like he still has the right to. “What’s going on?”

She flinches, and her anger is starting to win. “I’m moving.”

Iwaizumi pulls that face. That same one. Always looking like he’s slightly dissatisfied with something. “Why?”

Why. It’s such a stupid question. She tries to take a breath to calm herself but it makes her shudder and lock up. “I’m sure if you think about it, you can figure it out.”

She watches the air enter and exit his lungs through the rising and falling of his shoulders. He looks at her, right through her. “Don’t leave.”

In an odd way, she likes the control. She likes the feeling that, for once in her life, she’s not the one begging. “Don’t tell me what to do. Not after you left me.”

He exhales sharply. Iwaizumi takes a step towards her, and she takes a step back. “C’mon, that’s not fair. I didn’t leave you. I just needed to put some distance between us for the time being. Your dad, he’s fucked, alright? It was a liability to-“

“A liability?” she cuts him off, hands clenched into fists by her side. The heat in her blood rises. “I’m a liability?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head and reaches towards her. She jerks away from him. “No, not that you’re a liability, it was just a risk to be around you while-“

“So, what, you couldn’t get one of your little errand boys to tell me about it?” she says, and it comes out like a bark. “You had to leave me in the dark for a month while you dicked off doing god knows what? Too risky to send a text? After I lied to the cops for you and risked getting arrested for you and became a fucking on-call nurse for you, you couldn’t send me a fucking text?”

Her breath is ragged. Iwaizumi stares down at her like he’s seeing for the first time. “I thought you wouldn’t care. I thought you don’t care about anything.”

And it’s too much for her. It’s too big for her body. It’s too much for her to carry and she can’t hold onto it anymore. “I care about everything! I care about everything so fucking much it makes me sick!” she erupts, tears in her voice and rolling down her face. Her skin feels hot. The air feels hot. “Is that what you liked about me so much? You thought I was some kind of apathic ragdoll you could toss around and do whatever you want with?”

“I thought you would understand!” he eventually bites back at her, his own voice rising. “I thought you knew what kind of life I live and what that meant! God, you fucking act like nothing bothers you and you pretend to not see the world around you and you just expect me to read your mind?”

“What fucking person would be okay with being abandoned for a month?” she screams. “You knocked on my door and asked me for a favor and you hovered around me and you said you loved me and said you’d marry me and then you just fucking disappeared! That’s so fucked, Iwa. That’s so fucking cruel.”

He steps towards her, and before she can say anything his arms are around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. Like one simple embrace will end it all. Like he can just take her in his arms and suddenly she’ll stay, suddenly it’ll fix everything. She wants it to. She wants it to so badly. But she places her palms on her chest and pushes him away. She stumbles back and looks at him with wet eyes. “Don’t fucking touch me.”

“I do love you,” he tells her, voice lower now. “I meant what I said and I still do. You’re my girl. You’re everything to me.”

She shakes her head, trembling. She can’t let it be true. “No, I’m not,” she asserts, backing up into her kitchen table. Her hands go around the edge of it. “I don’t mean anything to you. You wouldn’t have left me if I did.”

“I had a reason-“

“I don’t fucking care what your reason was! I don’t fucking care, Iwa! I don’t care about your stupid job or your stupid fucking guns or whatever! I care that you were here, and then you weren’t! You left me like my mom did and you left me like my brother did and then you come back here and you have the fucking audacity to not even be sorry about it. I fucking hate you!”

She knows that she doesn’t mean it, when she says it. Iwaizumi probably knows too. He probably knows she doesn’t mean it when she swipes the CD player he got her off the kitchen table and it goes flying. Soaring across the room until it slams into the opposite wall, breaking and crumpling against the pressure. Bits of it snap off.

Iwaizumi looks at it, and then he looks at her. She’s shaking. She wants to get on her knees and do everything she can to fix it the second it breaks. But it’s on the floor, broken and shattered. Iwaizumi nods, and then he leaves. He turns around and walks out the door and slams it shut behind him.

an: huge huge huge huge thank u to wyr and ness and honee and molly and dodger who all had to suffer thru me trying to get this chapter out u guys are the best

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @bedeater @deluluforcarlos55 @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @pinkiscool @michivrse @cannibalsrider @kmwife @k8nicole @oikasenpai @fennecnco @riousluvs @bellamsby @rinheartshyunlix @bae-ashlynn @ephemeralninon @fangsbb @plumarbre @v-e-r-t21 @snail-squasher @seroh @mfcherry @canthavetoomuchchaos @ange1icarch1ve @applepi25 @wqnsho @19calicos @girlkissersco @Lisoozi @bailey-reeds @kitskasoboring @iluvaquaphor @lllaw @kinsies-blog @1lovestrawberrymilk

[misfitclassismyfreetherapy]

Clara Appreciation Post

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I'm making this as contribution to Mairuma Manga's chapter 304

I'm surprised no one said shit on how Clara saved the day with her optimistic and fun personality. Honestly it was unexpected but also unsurprising and comforting that Clara was the one who stopped them. I genuinely thought Ameri was the one who would interrupt but you know, nevermind.

Also it makes sense in a way, Nishi didn't want to make Clara feel left out in the situation so she dropped the bomb (cliffhanger) on us so we would want to remember and look forward to what happened next and that's when Clara came in. The love trio does have to stick together afterall.

So without further a do here are 5 things I love about Clara Valac! Our adorable little charming playful demon!

Clara's amazing nicknames

These three being the dorks that I wouldn't trade for the world.

Like literally Azz-azz and Irumachi sounds so cute wtf- and like other nicknames Eggy-sensei. It reflects her personality well and actually makes her unique. ( I want to say quirky but it sounds weird so no. )

Her voice actor is also delivering her lines incredibly accurate also her voice actor is also known to voice Valac's entire family. Now that's what I called fucking talent. Since we're getting off-topic, let's move on to the next one.

2. Clara's overlooked selflessness.

I hate seeing Clara cry but I have to like put an image to showcase her selfishness.

You know how the netherworld always say that there are rarely other demons who would care for other people than themselves? If Clara was selfish, she wouldn't care for the other demons consent and she could easily force them to play with her.

But no, she wanted people to play with her with consent. She wants the other demon have fun as much as she has. There are many things that she could do but didn't because she cares for other demons feelings. She is a rare demon that wants to play and both side to have fun.

3. Clara has no doubt that Azz-kun and Iruma loves her.

Her eyes shine with utter confidence.

I don't need to explain much just-

Read this amazing post.

Totally not because I'm lazy. Also credits to @somayants for this masterpiece  🛐 .

4. Clara's unique family.

Shit I forgot the fucking twins-and the fucking brother-

Adorable as fuck. Wholesome as fuck. Cute as fuck.

Also her mum is such a MILF /j

Basically Clara's emotional support team besides the misfit class.

That's all I have to say.

Now I saved my best for last...

5. Clara's patience and endurance.

This is just adorable-

Clara's patience and endurance is honestly so admirable. I kinda lost count on the times, she endured being left out. We know well that Clara loves Iruma and Azz-kun so much that she doesn't want to ever get separated from them.

So the fact that she endured the clinginess of hers and have patience is so amazing of her. She truly does act like the role of the big sister sometimes. Honestly this is probably one of the few things that Clara does better than Azz-kun because let's be honest, he wouldn't last two weeks of separation from Iruma ( without training that is.).

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ENDING

You can tell I lost motivation halfway through that but I really want to finish this so people could appreciate Clara more for who she is, and we wouldn't want to change her for anything.

Also if through chapter 304 I made this as a #ClaraValacAppreciation post. I just made that hashtag myself cause I'm an antisocial idiot.

But if you want to join in on the appreciation of Clara you can! By using this hashtag.

(This is probably gonna flop but I honestly don't care.)

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~Claire has logged off~

[34saveme34]

SMG3's Interactable Adventure - Chapter 1

[Vote by the end of the chapter! Lasts a week]

Warmth. The bed was warm. Warmer than usual. Not that 3 minded that. As he slowly felt himself wake up, he couldn’t even feel wary about that yet. It’s really hard to get scared of comfortable things. Though as more of his surroundings set in, the wariness came too. He wasn’t in the room he would usually sleep in. The warmth he was feeling was someone beside him. The feeling got him riled up enough to check. Seeing 4 beside him, all snuggled up to him made colour leave his face. He was the LAST person he thought would be beside him! In a poetic way of course though, he had to admit, there’s many more people he would be less likely to be in the same bed with. He still found it strange. 

He took a while and it was hard but he managed to get out of 4’s grasp without waking him up. He did stop for a bit though. Seeing him so peaceful did bring him joy. He was happy that 4 didn’t seem to be as plagued by his quality-over-quantity nightmares as he thought he would be. 3 many times would pace around in his room, even back when he was living in the Graveyard after that whole thing happened… He didn’t realise before just how… fragile 4 is. It wasn’t something he was yet used to feeling, and yet… He felt it with his whole self. And it all just made him want to leave him to his demons less and less. He didn’t know how to show or tell 4 so he would just do things on his own, so he wouldn’t need to face 4 giggling about his sensitive side. 

This all made it hard to leave 4 alone but he did anyways. He couldn’t make himself stay, even if a part of himself wanted to. He looked around the room to see if he could find his clothes, considering he was only in his boxers. He found a set of his clothes folded neatly by 4’s boring work station. He still can’t believe such a silly yet boring room was enough for 4. Although at this point, 3 warmed up to it with how much he would visit 4. 

As he lifted his clothes, even those smelled like 4. He couldn’t help but feel like he was forgetting something but he couldn’t put that anywhere in his mind. Did they… do something? He quickly shook the thoughts out of his head, he didn’t need to think about that.

He put on his clothes then quietly exited the room. The hallway was oddly quiet considering how the castle usually is.

3 went outside and realised why. It was still pretty early. Well, it was time to open his café anyways!

He went but there was this odd feeling in his stomach. He wanted to ignore it but it felt like something was wrong. 

He went inside and then to his room. He was surprised to see Meggy there.

“Oh, you’re back already?” Meggy asked as she got up, she was dressed in her usual attire, it seemed she was just about to get her hat and goggles on. 

3 felt the confusion in himself set in.

Meggy seemed confused right back.

“Don’t you remember? You asked me to feed your Eggy since you had to help 4 finish an urgent video of his. And you also asked me to look after him in case he does something stupid”

“Oh! Uh, yeah yeah! Thanks for that! You can leave now if you want to” 3 tried his best to show a sure smile, although he was scared he might have sounded sarcastic. Even though in reality he just didn’t know what was going on.

Meggy gave him a quick hug. 3 was too surprised to even react.

“Just know you can ask me anytime, alright? I’m here for you, 3” she said with a smile then left.

3 just stood there, thinking.

3? Did she… huh. 

He stared in front of himself, trying to figure out what’s up. Since when was he this close to these losers? Like 4 he could almost stomach but Meggy? 

He was knocked out of his thoughts by cheerful barks coming from his most favourite boy.

“Eggdog!” he kneeled down, welcoming his most smartest son in his arms.

It seemed the only thing that didn’t feel off. Him and his dog against the world. 

“Oh, my wonderful baby boy, what would I do without you?” 

He got a few more cheerful barks back as an answer.

“Oh, my boy, what have you been up to?”

He got a few suspicious barks back as an answer.

“Really, you were kind to your dogsitter and didn’t do anything inappropriate?”

Eggdog seemed to choose his barks before replying.

“Well, that doesn’t convince me, you should know that. I better not find badly hung up LED lights in the bathroom of the meme rave you definitely didn’t have in there!”

3 quickly let go of his sonny boy, running to the bathroom. 

The 2 basically raced to the bathroom door, with Eggdog throwing himself at the door, with all his willpower keeping him back from opening the door.

“Hey now, you can’t keep me out forever!”

Eggdog whined, looking up sadly at 3. 3’s heart sank at the sight.

“I won’t be mad I promise!”

Yet Eggdog persisted. 3 gently pushed him out of the way.

He gently opened the door.

The door squeaked lightly, as the room went quiet, almost like the whole world did, it felt loud. Very loud.

3 wasn’t sure why it felt like that, but he could feel a chill travel up his spine as he looked inside.

Everything… was normal. Nothing was out of order. Just as it should be, right?

Right.

As he stepped inside, just with a single foot, he felt a rush through his body, memories coming to him. They didn’t feel like his own. They rather seemed like flashes than actual memories.

He turned around to see that Eggdog, already outside the bathroom, had a tiny neon sign on his head, it depicted a palm tree and a beach chair, although in a rather abstract way.

“Eggdog. Are you trying to sneak away? I said I won’t be mad”

Eggdog looked up at him with big more than puppy eyes, it was filled with so much puppy. 3 could cry.

“You’re okay, I promise! I just hope you didn’t break anything. That’s the part I don’t like”

Eggdog barked with remorse.

“That’s my boy” 3 smiled at him, patting his little head then he continued to take the sign to who knows where.

He stood up. He looked towards the bathroom.

He walked in. Nothing happened. Nothing at all. What happened before? He couldn’t remember. Although, it wasn’t just the bathroom making him feel this way. It was everything.

For some reason, he sat down on the ground, on the cold bathroom floor.

Maybe if he just grounds himself enough… Just bring yourself back to Earth…

He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate, trying to make sense of everything that happened today. Him in 4’s- vicinity. Meggy not insulting him for once when they talk or make him embarrassed. Eggdog’s ultra rave bathroom party not resulting in the toilet going missing. It was all things he was supposed to be happy about. It felt like it had been just going too well for him.

He got so lost in thought, he didn’t realise someone was standing in front of him.

And that someone wasn’t about to be very patient, lifting 3 up, who barely knew what was going on then kissing him. 

3 went wholly red faced. He didn’t expect ANYTHING like this. He was too stunned to speak.

And when the kiss stopped, he could see a smiling 4 right in front of him.

“Way to leave me alone like that- oh, did I disturb something?”

3 was still speechless.

“Uh… did I do something bad?” 4 looked at him sad “I want to know, let’s talk”

4 grabbed 3’s hand and dragged him out of the bathroom. 

Meanwhile, as speechless as 3 was, he could feel his heart race, his head race, his everything race. If he wasn’t limited by the physical attributes of being a living person, his heart could make him time travel. 

They both sat down on 3’s bed. 4 gave 3 a half hug, squeezing him on his side.

“You can tell me if something’s up, you should know I’ll listen”

3 sighed. Words were hard, especially with 4’s eyes feeling like they were deep in his soul, clawing on it without 4 knowing.

“I…” 3 started, looking away from 4 then convincing himself to look back “It feels like things are better than they should be”

“Better than they should be?”

“It feels like… I don’t think I deserve it…”

3 put his head in his hands, trying to keep it together but failing.

“Don’t say that! You deserve all good things… you worked hard after all”

“I-... I… I did?”

“Yeah! I don’t know anyone else who would deserve it as much as you”

“Oh, uh, thanks…”

3 looked down.

“That didn’t help, huh?” 4 crossed his arms, letting go of 3.

3 kept looking on the ground, then finally determined he should ask what was on his mind.

“What did you kiss me for?”

“What?”

“I asked wh-”

“No I heard but- We’ve been together for a good while now, so I- I don’t know where this is coming from”

“HUH??”

3 jumped up, staring at 4 as if he saw a ghost. 4 started to look more and more worried.

3 could feel tears come to his eyes as he couldn’t take this anymore. He ran away, like a coward. But the damage has already been done. He ran out of the building and to the woods. It started to get darker and darker but he didn’t care. He just needed some space… That is all. He sat down by a tree, plopping himself down after running so much. He lowered his head in his hands.

It felt like the world was against him. As he looked up again. He wasn’t in the dark trees anymore. No life seemed to persist, just darkness. No one was there but him. nothing was there but him. But that soon would change as a figure approached him.

“Hey now, boy… what do you think, how did that make SMG4 feel?”

“...H… Huh?” 3 looked up. He swore he knew that face from somewhere but he couldn’t put it anywhere. 

“He really cares about you and you do as well, right? Why would you choose to make him feel bad like that? That’s selfish”

“I…” he looked miserable.

“Interesting… you know what, boy? I’ll help you out. WE’ll help you out” 

“We?”

“We’re gonna ask for audience opinion! They’re gonna help you with making sure you get on the right path! Or… let’s not talk about that possibility!”

“Audience, really? Those losers?”

“Shush, boy”

“Quit calling me boy”

“Fits you though”

The figure laughed then they brought up 3 objects out of nowhere. While to 3, they were redacted, so he really could only look confused, to the audience, to YOU, they were there clearly, with subtitles added to explain each item.

“The choice is yours” the figure pointed at the 4th wall.

First item - A receipt to some restaurant, dating only a few months back.

Second item - Christmas lights that are broken. They seemed to suffer a lot of damage but they're still recognisable as christmas lights.

Third item - 2 AA batteries, still in their packaging, implying they are still fully charged.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

In The Present

Summary- 1.3k Curtis Everett x Honey. You can't help but compare your current situation with a similar one in the past.

Warnings- Jake is an absolutely abusive asshole.

A/N- Me dabbling tonight, I just love seeing where Honey came from to where she is now. What having a decent partner will do for you.

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet Masterlist.

“Seriously Y/N, I asked for this to be classy tonight, for you to make an effort. What the fuck is all this?” Jake sneered at the layout you had made at the dining room table before pinching his thumb and forefinger against the bridge of his nose like he had a headache. 

You were tired too and could feel your own headache start to build up. “Jake no one is going to care if I bought all this stuff premade. I didn’t have time to-” 

“Don’t Y/N, you knew how important this party was to me, assured me I didn’t need to hire anyone to come in to cook and this is what you delivered?” 

You could feel the tears well up, you had indeed insured Jake that you would do the food, you were always a pretty decent cook and whipping up snack foods for his friends wasn’t a big deal. 

That was until your chill day became rather hectic when you were called to do a quick fill-in for one of the teachers where you were able to substitute part-time. Your part-time day turned into all day. 

You had rushed for all the favorites at the grocery store, heated everything up, and set them on the nice serving trays, rather proud you actually got that all accomplished for Jakes get together, games of poker with his old college buddies. But Jake caught sight of the boxes in the garbage and went to asses what you had done. 

Now he was mad about it and you messed up, cause you did assure him you could make it all. “I’m sorry, okay Jake? I took a job today that I thought was only going to be a couple hours. Do you want me to toss it and we can order something in?” You tried to placate him. Jake had his moments, sometimes he could just brush it off, forgive you with the explanation that you tried or hold onto his anger for days, belittling you in subtle ways till you felt like you were not even worth the effort. 

What was today going to be?

He sighed as he looked over the table, running a hand down his face and shaking his head. “It is what it is I guess.” He glanced over at you, his sharp blue eyes looking you up and down for a second. “Not like the guys will really notice anyways.” You breathed out in relief, he seemed okay with it. “I just like showing you off, I got myself the best girl out of all of us.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, pressing his hand against your soft belly like he was pointing out another flaw in you. “The sweetest anyways. I know you tried Darling and next time we will do it the right way.” 

You gave him a little smile and nodded, praying this was the only issue tonight to deal with. Jake was a perfectionist, it all had to be just so. “Now Darling, how about you go get changed, they will be here any second.” 

You shuddered at the thought as you stood in Curtis’s kitchen, slicing cheese while watching the group sitting around the Everett’s antique table playing UNO. This was so different, there was laughter and music playing. Way too many beer bottles scattered around the table along with piles of snacks that everyone brought. Ella had Sophia perched on her lap with a handful of cards, playing her hand while Edgar tried to bribe the toddler for information. 

“Come on Sophia, what color are you gonna use?” Edgar tried and Ella whispered in her ear. The toddler got a wicked little grin as she plucked out a card and threw it on the pile. “Blue! Draw four Uncle Eggy.” She was devious in her giggles as Edgar sputtered, drawing his cards while Timmy leaned across the table to give Sophia a high five. Tanya smirked over at him. 

“Teach you a lesson in not trying to cheat?”

It was a happy and playful atmosphere, there were no snide remarks about one another's jobs or significant others, no pretending to like one another, and all the teasing wasn't made to belittle anyone, but that of friends who knew each other for a lifetime. 

A warm set of hands on your forearms rubbed up and down as a solid chest pressed against your back. “Mmmh, need help?” Curtis asked from behind you and you smiled as warmth curled in your chest. He had already spent all evening praising all you have done to make tonight a success, which you couldn’t even take credit for. Everyone participated by bringing food and drinks. He also had been kissing and hugging you, making sure to whisper how sexy you looked in your outfit tonight, especially the tights, they were just driving him up the wall.

“No, I’m almost done. I was just replacing the cheese we polished off.” You scooped it up and laid it onto the plate, one of the many mismatched dishes being used tonight. Nobody cared, no one observed any of that. 

Curtis reached around you to snag a slice, popping it into his mouth over your shoulder. “It was damn good cheese.” He stated while cuddling you back into him. “How long do you think we need to play host though?” His mouth teased in the crook of your neck, knowing the scratch of his beard would tickle you, and make you squirm. 

“Night is just getting started Curtis.” You giggled as you twisted to face him, cocking a brow at him. “You know we never finish before midnight.” Sometimes game night lasted till the early morning hours, the only one who actually got any proper sleep that night would be Sophia, who Ella would lay her down in the spare bedroom off the kitchen. “So you have hours.” 

He groaned as if it was a chore, but you knew it was all for show, he loved having these game nights as much as the rest of them. “Or I could just kick them all out, get you all to myself.” He proposed, a teasing grin on his mouth as he wiggled his brows. 

“Good luck kicking your niece out.” You stuck your tongue out at him, easily playing back. You swore he growled as he gripped the back of your neck and pulled you into him, kissing you hungrily. 

Damn that man. You thought as you arched up closer, kissing him back. “Uncle Curtis!” Sophia bellowed from across the kitchen, making you giggle as Curtis lifted his head. “IT’S YOUR TURN!” 

“Okay! Okay! I’m coming! Can’t a man get two seconds with his girl.” 

Claude popped over to the counter, grabbing the plate of cheese you had been cutting. “Nope. You two are about to be lectured for inappropriate behavior in front of a minor.” 

Curtis flipped Claude off with a scowl, which didn’t scare her in the slightest and gave you a pat on your ass as he pulled away. “Too many damn freeloading people in my house, eating all my damn cheese.”

“Um, Grey brought the cheese,” Ella smirked while Curtis rolled his eyes, grabbing at his cards. “Tell Uncle Curtis he needs to share.” 

“You gotta share Uncle,” Sophia said so sternly that Tanya cackled from across the table. 

“He has to share Y/N too.” Ella pushed, her daughter gearing up to repeat it. 

“I most certainly do not have to share Y/N, you all see her all the time.” Curtis glanced at his hand and tossed down a card to play. 

You decided that it was time to return to the table, before you ended up getting yelled at by the group to hurry up, letting them ignore Curtis and hassle you instead. 

This kind of hassle you really didn't mind though. It was with people who actually considered you a friend and not just Curtis’s girlfriend. You returned to your seat next to Curtis, who promptly put his arm around your shoulders while you took your turn.

[themetalvirus]

thinks about eggman successfully erasing egghog shadow's memories of what made him run away, his time spent with tails and amy while he was away, and that silver ever ran away. thinks about it

honestly im mainly thinking about

1. how disoriented shadow is when he wakes up

2. the process of getting him out of The Tube (draining the green nutrient/sedative combo slime, filling the tube with a compound that breaks down the green slime [eggman has shadow take a deep breath in and out, one for mouth one for nose, to mostly clear out his lungs and sinuses of the green stuff], rinsing, drying, sanitizing spray, THEN the capsule opens)

3. eggy sonic waiting right outside the door bouncing up and down and before the door even fully opens he's already got shadow in a big tearful hug. and eggman says hey, be gentle with him and remember what we talked about (they talked about not telling shadow the truth about why he was out for so long or what really happened). and sonic looks up from shadow's shoulder at eggman, silent gratitude in his expression for making his brother normal again

i thought itd be lame to have part of the buildup to the climax of egghogs be eggman kidnapping the defected boys back but have no actual consequences / have them be saved and nothing changed. silver is just clockwork oranged but shadow is artificial and gerald developed sophisticated systems specifically on manipulating and removing shadow's memories

the effect on silver is just even MORE assurance that going back would be a mistake and that his father is firmly in the wrong. it's the final nail in the coffin of his past life. sonic visits him often, and no matter how many times they talk, no matter how many approaches he takes, there is no breakthrough.

the general sentiment is "don't you see what he's done to me? this isn't kind, this isn't loving. he may have given me a plush bed and a room, but this is a PRISON. he's keeping you in these same chains and you're suffering so badly and you don't even see it for what it is. he's abused you, belittled you, brainwashed you, lied to all of us. and you're complacent in what's happening to me, to shadow... you partially orchestrated us coming back here for your own gain and didn't even listen to us when we told you a long time ago we didn't want to come back. what do you hope to gain from this? all you're gaining is more hurt and you're losing my trust."

OH YEAH also i decided that sonic would pretend to run away, give a sob story to amy about how he's changed, and thus be led right to where shadow and silver are.

lots of complex emotions are had. sonic sees just how much his brothers have changed, have lost their way. and he sees how well they're living. this must be some kind of trick, this kindness is unfamiliar and wrong. indulgence in comforts must be why, or amy and tails brainwashing them must be why, or... y'know, anything. witnessing firsthand how they're living, how they think... he wasn't sure about this at first, but he's sure now. they need guidance and they need to be back to normal so sonic can have them back.

so that night sonic alerts eggman to their location. he raids tails' workshop and takes the boys with him. and sonic says that they're finally going back home.

[avrelia]

Joe Cornish Talks ‘Lockwood & Co.’

excerpts from an interview with Joe Cornish about ‘Lockwood & Co.’

You became interested in the novel series right at its beginning. There was only one book out at the time. How has your perspective on it changed now that we’re years later and there are more books and you have a wider grasp on the larger story?

Joe Cornish: Well, what’s interesting is that Jonathan admits that he sort of made it up as he went along. The first idea that came to him was the idea of these two young people with this peculiar weaponry approaching this house to cleanse it of a ghost. And the rest of it kind of came to him as he imagined it. So what happens with books three, four, and five is by that point, he’s really thought about the world and where the story is going to go. He’s thought about all the layers of conspiracy, he’s thought about how “The Problem” began. So in the next books – I mean, these elements are already there during Book Two – all these little breadcrumbs start, I don’t know, becoming loaves of bread. That’s a bad metaphor. (Laughs)

All of these elements start developing and expanding. Characters who you think are innocent become much more significant than you think. Characters you think are good turn out not to be so good. Allegiances are divided and the story gets more and more spectacular. It just gets bigger and bigger and better. It was incredibly exciting and rewarding to read that first book all those years ago then go away, do other things, then hear that they were available again and read the next four. It was like “Holy shit!” This is better than we could possibly have imagined, in the way it has developed since. Our first season on Netflix is the first two books. There are three more books left to adapt. We think we could get two more seasons out of it if the gods smile upon us.

Is it just the quality of the source material that gives you the passion and the confidence to make the huge commitment to a full-length series?

Joe Cornish: You know what it is? It’s having read them and, I’m sure like many people, I kind of make the TV show as I read them. You play the action out in your imagination. There are set pieces and moments from those books that I’ve visualized in my mind’s eye, that are unforgettable. And probably like any filmmaker, when you see something in your imagination, you get this burning hunger to make it real. To one day step onto a set with actors and shoot it. The characters are so compulsive in the first two books and Cameron Chapman, Ruby Stokes, and Ali Hadji-Heshmati, the chemistry between them is so brilliant. I want to see their performances when they get to play all this other crazy stuff that happens between them.

I love the way that, during the first test when Lucy meets the boys, she touches an object and there’s this pulse-like sound effect and the camera moves up to her face the same way each time. How did you go about finding the right portrayal for those more subtle supernatural elements in the new Netflix series?

Joe Cornish: My brain is a big melting pot of every movie I’ve ever seen and I see a lot of movies. Sometimes I shoot stuff and only realize later that I’ve kind of borrowed it from something I’ve seen years ago. I guess it comes a little bit from a movie called The Fury, a Brian De Palma movie, where they use big close-ups for psychic moments. The thing where they’re ghost locked and their eyes go a little eggy white comes from The Beyond, a Lucio Fulci movie. My brain is like a massive Rolodex of every film I’ve ever seen. Sometimes I think I’m coming up with an original idea and sometimes I’m subconsciously just recalling something. But most of the time, I just think, “What is the most straightforward, legible way to do this? What’s going to communicate the story best to the audience?” 

What’s interesting about [Lucy] is her emotional intelligence and the way her psychic powers are linked to her emotions. So it made sense to go right into her incredibly expressive face. Ruby has the ability to give such a detailed performance, then we wiped out all the sounds so that we were hearing what she heard. It was fun to establish that language as well, what we call the psychic slide that went into her face, and then all the directors on the other episodes could use that same language, you know?

In conversations with Jonathan Stroud, were there any aspects of the story or the characters that he wanted emphasis on or that he wasn’t going to compromise on?

Joe Cornish: No, he really understood from the start that the screen adaptation was always going to be a different beast. He was extremely cooperative and extremely generous. He was thrilled that the things he had imagined were being built and was excited to see the costumes, the props, the weaponry. He was an incredibly valuable and supportive companion throughout the whole process. It was very rewarding when he started to see the episodes assembled because he really felt that he recognized his work. I think the things that are critical to the books are the chemistry between the three leads, the skull, and Flo Bones. But as much as we spoke to Jonathan, we also looked at a lot of the fandom that was out there and that told us what the most important elements were to them.

Were there any parts that you wanted to expand on and focus a bit more on in Netflix’s Lockwood & Co. as opposed to cutting?

Joe Cornish: So the first book doesn’t go into Lucy’s childhood in that much detail. It’s quite elliptical in the way it describes it and we wanted to flesh that out. We made a few changes. She has a whole lot of sisters in the book and we felt that it would’ve been a little bit odd to shoot so many characters on screen. We wanted to make it neater and more digestible, so we gave her this relationship with one of her fellow agents in her local agency, this girl called Norrie. We also invented some little missions they go on because that forms the center of the first episode.

You’ve got to be ruthless, you know, some set pieces in the books are really exciting to read but they don’t advance the story. So we see that and go, “Well, let’s not spend our valuable budget on that. Let’s just stick to the bits that really move the characters and story forward.” So we’ve cut some stuff, we expanded some stuff, and we made some little changes. Some things make sense on the page but not when you actually staged them. Like Annabel Ward, the dead woman in the wall from the first episode, in the books she has a locket. We changed that to a ring because a ring is easier to carry around and smuggle about. When you come down to the practicalities of staging some stuff in the books, it doesn’t work as well as it might. 

[gearselectric]

Idk if this is related to the actual post or if I’m comprehending it wrong BUT this made me think of how my view of Clock from TPOT (insert everybody groaning and saying “of course”) has changed over time kind of. In BFB he didn’t have screentime for many episodes because he was dead and everybody kept forgetting to revive him. And in TPOT he finally starts getting screentime and everybody who didn’t already like him either ships him with Winner or hates him. Lots of people who already liked him say he’s out of character now, and for some time I thought so too, but after thinking really hard about it, I feel like people just ignore everything he’s done that isn’t put obviously in front of them.

I was upset when he was eliminated, very very. I feel like they wrote him into that. However, I can’t really say he’s out of character, I’d just say more of his character than what we are used to is being shown, as he gets more screentime. I was mad at first about the direction they were going in TPOT, but it also gave me a new perspective and a reason to think more about this character I loved, and I genuinely feel it’s made me understand him even more! On the Losers, he was obsessed with Loser just as everybody else was, but since there was more focus on Cake and Eggy (mostly Cake), people I feel associated said obsession more with them, despite the fact Clock had it too, just more in the background (and he was gone for like a while. So.)

In TPOT this shifts over to Winner. Loser didn’t mind it, Winner does, but Clock is likely treating Winner the exact same way as he did Loser, but since there is more focus on this (and Winner doesn’t like it as much) it makes people view it differently. He almost names the team off of Winner, like it was with the Losers. He spends more time around Winner and overall idolizes them, as he likely did with Loser.

I feel like they wanted him to be eliminated, I don’t know, they had a whole kitchen set up and everything? Maybe it was preparation or maybe they expected him to stay a little longer, I’m not sure. They clearly don’t want to end his story yet which.. cool! I am curious as to where they are taking this, but I’ve been able to accept that he is being written okay. Maybe I’m overcompensating to excuse how he’s written, but genuinely I feel like people are quick to say he’s out of character despite the fact his character wasn’t really expanded on to begin with. But he’s also my favorite character so maybe I, jsut thinking about him too much HDHDNHDHD. Okay ramble over sorry if this isn’t how tumblr works I just like talking about clock

that post that’s like, fandom’s obsession with viewing characters as only relatable or shippable or defendable has ruined media literacy in being able to view characters through the lens of themes or narrative theory. character analysis one of my favourite forms of analysis but not at the detriment of being able to understand when a character represents something larger thematically in a story than what they would be if they were just a guy from your high school

[maii29]

Day 13: 1/31/23

I made sure to wear double layers today because I knew I had to walk to West bank today. It was another day of my daily routine. The skin products, the time, and energy spent on getting myself dressed and ready is the consumption that takes place in my household before leaving to campus for the day. I had checked the weather yesterday on my phone. It wasn't hard. The app was automatically installed into my Iphone, so all I had to do was scroll two times to the left to find a widget telling me the temperature. The weather app predicted that today would also be -12 degrees. It is -10 degrees now. I have consumed many hours a day on my phone that I don't even know the date and time without looking at my phone. I left the house 2 minutes later than usual.

Once I arrived in Coffman Union, I sat down at the same square table near the wall where there was an outlet. I check my email. I didn't write in my journal first thing. There was no particular reason to why or why not, but it may be because I felt tired and felt "slow." By 7:10ish, I ordered another all nighter sandwich from Eistein Bros through the kiosk. It was low-effort and comfortable to order the same thing. I still thought that the sandwich's name was appropriate for today, since I ended up staying up a little later than I should've. I expected it to taste the same as the one from yesterday, but this on tasted more "eggy" and was not as good. While eating, I would usually just drink water from the bottle I carried with me, except from Chick-Fil-A. But today, I felt more thirsty than usual and had already finished the water to the halfway point. On the topic of water, I haven't really thought about it, but water is used not only for drinking but for many other reasons. Other ways I consume water is when I use the sink (to wash dishes, my hands, and face), flush the toilet, and shower. Most of the time, I reduce the use of water in everyday life. For example, I lower the stream of water coming from the faucet when I wash my hands and face. I also turn off the water in the shower when it is not necessary but there are days when I consume more water in the shower because I want a warm shower or am feeling under the weather.

At home, I consumed another meal. It was lasagna in a ravioli form. It may just be ravioli but I am not sure. The food was stored in a clear plastic bag with no labeling in the fridge. I heat up the food by using the microwave. The microwave is the fastest and most convenient way of heating up food. Along with the main dish, I consumed a Go-Gurt yogurt tube. I spent more time consuming the product because, on the back, there was a fun activity. If I finished the yogurt, It would reveal my unicorn name. I have previously already consumed this product last week and there were other fun facts. I discovered that my name was "Sparkles the Magnificent" but was disappointed because I had already gotten this name before. Overall, the yogurt was good, but there was something that made the experience less satisfactory. On the product, there is a small slit used to tear open the yogurt. The yogurt opens by using the slit but there was still plastic that would not be removed unless there was more effort put into removing it.

[all-hail-the-witcher]

the absolute best quotes from bdylanhollis's vintage baking tiktoks

• "thought this was a joke. turns out im the joke."

• "you can use a mixer, i just do this to feel something"

• "fold in sauerkraut carefully. or what? im going to ruin your disaster?"

• "can a cake be tried for treason?"

• "either chocolate fixes everything or this is alchemy"

• *disgusted chewing noises* "DEMON BABY!!!"

• "before pumpkin pie became king people ate this....now they're dead."

• "combine all ingredients except for pie shell. were you rEALLY WORRIED I WAS GOING TO PUT A F U L L Y C O N S T R U C T E D PIE SHELL INTO THIS?"

• "im a fool, not an idiot."

• "its like reading directions to purgatory"

• "now we have carbonated mayonnaise lime water"

• "MARSHMALLOWS!! with the m a y o??"

• "chop up your dehydrated cow"

• "it tastes like it's insulting me"

• "and its not just a little bit. no. its a severe unauthorized CUP of mayonnaise."

• "honey you cant dilute a war crime"

• "you know its horrible now but i hope it turns out okay. like children."

• *beans boiling over in a pot* "ahhhhHH BEAN REBELLION!!"

• "eggie!! how many? i don't know. it just says EGGS."

• "did you just kill my blender?" *broken blender noises* "hello?" *insane maniacal laughter* "this is personal now. you swung first!!"

• "why are you good? yOU HAVE A BAG OF BEANS IN YOU!!"

• "one of the many questionable substances people experimented with in the 70s...pistachio pudding."

• "smells like a palm springs retirement home"

• "nixon wished it was this easy."

• "this was the cold war after all. fear of communist bananas was at an all time high."

• "the 70s. sponsored by the color beige."

• "its uncomfortably appetizing"

• "meat and desserts was quite common back then. so was botulism."

• "'honey would you like earl gray or pork?' 'ill take a divorce'"

• "sweet, bitter and meaty. like my ex."

• "don't say it dylan" *2 seconds later* "CIMMANIMM!!"

• "350 for two and a half hours! i suppose any less and it might gain consciousness."

• "its a little late in the century for war crimes."

• "are you just making things up? who are you??"

• *opening a can of spam* "you know ive never been particularly religious. but today might be the day."

• "a cup of evaporated milk?! have you lost the plot?!"

• "i feel like if i do this correctly im going to invoke the spirit of richard nixon"

• "this aint food honey this is a bioweapon"

• "sir your phone number is 4 digits"

• "well i don't have sorghum because i don't have a life expectancy of twelve"

• "thats the power of pine sol baby!"

• "bake to your liking. sweetie none of this is to my liking."

• "this is what id imagine a toilet brush to taste like"

• "this is why we don't perform lobotomies anymore."

• "should be a pale white." *holds butter up to arm for comparison*

• "i bet this recipe is just all the wrong answers on a baking test."

• "smells like dentures."

• "not bad dead people"

• "its incredible. and im mad about it."

• "sift your flour three times. lady your cake has tomato soup in it, this is thE LEAST OF YOUR WORRIES!!"

• "'911 whats your emergency?' 'yeah that lady carol is at the barbecue again.'"

• "careful not to over mix. sorry im just trying to kill it."

• "now i know this is going to be awful because it calls for soured milk. not buttermilk, not milk and vinegar, no honey sOURED B A D MILK!"

• "disgusting wasnt enough for you?!"

• "call the U.N."

• "bake until done. you're a piece of work."

• *plays accordion on his kitchen floor*

• "tastes like a shower drain or a bunion"

• "this recipe was sent to me by herbert hoover feet pics. theres something for everybody"

• "are you nine inches yet?? said 14 year old me."

• "i suppose its better than eating your offspring"

• "oh betty crocker WHAT ARE YOU UP TO??"

• "you could just use canned pineapple. if you were a communist."

• "can you bake a pie with four ingredients? yes! i could also eat my mattress."

• "add three gils of water. was this written for a fish?"

• "i think this qualifies as a preexisting condition"

• "unconstitutional!"

• "its a breast implant"

• *clunking from the cabinets* "i think ive summoned something"

• "it seems to have collapsed. like the south."

• "the slogan for this cookbook is 'it's digestible'"

• "remember kids the main ingredient in pie pastry is self doubt"

• "fry in two tablespoons of crisco. on this episode of dead white people."

• "i didnt know tuberculosis had a color scheme"

• "ive baked a toilet."

• "how am i supposed to know how big your teacups are, ira?"

• "why do dead people like dates?"

• "easy does it. wouldn't want to ruin a disaster."

• "'ira honey i'm going to war.' 'over what?' 'your cooking'"

• "tastes like a boot. like a size 10 boot."

• "why just live in the great depression when you could also have chronic diarrhea"

• "it wants me to plumpen my prunes in water. well i won't be plumping my prunes in just anything. buy me dinner first."

• "it looks like a failed grave robbery"

• "walnuts aint gonna save this recipe sweetie"

• "you know its not bad it just vaguely tastes like a felony."

• "'where you goin with that tuna dylan?' 'oh you know just making jello"

• "this recipe is making me cry, not the onions"

• "are we sure this recipe wasnt written by a cat?"

• "it already looks like the great depression"

• "bake in a moderate oven. no need to get political"

•"don't tell gordon ramsey"

• "it tastes like a question mark. but a good question mark"

[jlf23tumble]

hi jen~ whats your thoughts on the recent Louis interview with Jojo?

It was good? I actually found the 98.9 interview wildly more entertaining (not least because Louis himself was struggling, this guy was not the best interviewer), but in both cases, we learned some things, and that's always fun! I would argue you learn WAY more in the 98.9 one, Jojo is mostly repetitive fluff/filler, but I feel like UAs were really selective with both options. Anyway, since you asked specifically about Jojo, here's a recap, I haven't done one of THOSE in a minute!

Unrelated takes from me: 1) Jojo's hair, wow!! 2) How is Louis hotter every time he's on this show? 3) All the prework Louis did for this rollout is truly fascinating, even the "live" pieces

And now some momentsTM that I liked from the interview:

Louis spent the first half of COVID doing nothing but putting his feet up (lol, I would reckon he actually HAD it at least once, too, but whatever), then in the second half, doing this record

He's doing "gewd, a LI'TLE bit tired"

Damn, he's into that dude from Stone (note to self: would I call Stone punk???), and I love how he says he's pretty judgmental when it comes to music, so he's figuring it's on him to bridge the taste gap with his fans and introduce a lot of stuff he thinks they're gonna love (me: yeah, because they ONLY listen to 4 guys, literally ever, that lens has room for growth, my friend)

FITF is a distinct different from Walls in that it was a) designed to stand up at a live show ("Every song," says Jojo, "YES, every single song," says Louis, "Bullshit," says me, "those late-era Streets weepy cryalongs work for one song, tops!") and b) it's "hopeful, there's no emotional weight" (says the dude who wrote Chicago)

Louis wrote 40 songs for this album, recorded 25, then picked 16, 17, and he won't go back and unvault them, so don't ask :(

There isn't a track with the title in it, he tried at least twice (two sets of writers), but it's quite 'ard to capture it down in words, cut to the feeling! (paraphrasing)

He HATES being in the room for a listening party or to debut some tracks: "You feel like a bit of dick, just sat there, nodding your head along to your own tunes." (his voice during this bit, uncapturable in text) He wants people to have their own opinion, and, "If I'm sat there, they won't say it's shit if it's dead eggy, no offense to people who do that," with a cheeky smile

Louis's drummer is also his musical director???

He goes into the pit at the end during KMM because it's the same energy he gets when he first walks out on stage, only x10, which sure is some feedback, if you're looking for it!

In answer to whether he has an alias for hotels, he does, but he can't remember the ones from 10 years ago and is pretty sure it's the same one today anyway (okay, stoner!), but regardless, it's obviously a fake name, which is annoying when hotel staff want ID during the many times he's locked himself out (always the hotel keys! free idea for Oli, maybe just create a fake ID for this pseud, McLovin style)

Only Louis can say he never wants to come across as arrogant or wanky, and because of that, it stopped him from looking at how important he is ("dare I say it!") or his songs are for people in some moments ("it's us as a collective") and not have it sound like garbage

His take on the video for Bigger Than Me was that because it's a big-sounding song, you need a nice-looking place, and you have to have a bit of narrative beyond just walking around, so he's building a fire: "maybe it represents GROWTH...maybe it's just a fire" (his voiceeee in all of this bit, too, sarcastically hilarious)

The best and worst moments in past performances are captured elsewhere (long pause for the classic Freddie in the crowd story, puking after too many vodka red bull top-ups on stage story, respectively), but the drinking on stage got me because I think it has been pretty well established that they DID drink on stage, that it wasn't rare, so maybe this was the first time??? Anyway, it WAS just after Zayn left, so could be lots more going on...I keep thinking of those water bottle reaction shots, plus Liam Payne's own casual descriptions

He moved away from anything too dance-y on Walls because he had already done it with Steve and Bebe but acknowledges he was close-minded and overthinking it on that album, hence he's embracing the dahnce here

Louder, for people in the back, he's different than he was 10 years ago, he feels he's constantly evolving as a person and as an artist, it's a moving puzzle

Jojo's obsessed with the paranormal, and Louis's a cynic (hello, new X Files one-shot), so Louis's happy to stay in whatever spooky room someone wants to assign him to and report back (bonus points if you know the special word that'll get the ghosts to talk to him, he's down for it)

I wanna know more about the time Louis had sleep paralysis and thought someone was sitting on his chest, but it was probably just sleep deprivation, not a hag (!!!)

The tattoo discussion gave the rather obvious reveal that Louis's main point in exchanging tats with Jojo was to mildly embarrass him, so he's owed some sort of retribution for covering up the shit emoji (typo in FITF sees like an odd choice, but I'm not in the know on "shaming radio DJs")

Disguises are silly because even on Louis's first ski trip after he was famous, he was covered head to toe, you could only see his eyes, and people still spotted him and wanted photos. Jojo figures someone must have told them, and Louis thinks it's because of Harry being equally famous the person who he was with, but Jojo points out that Harry this person would have been covered up, too, which really gets Louis thinking, lmao. I loved the bit with Jojo staring into Louis's eyes (Louis: "Yeah, you get it now")

Old friends are super British about Louis's fame and aren't that bothered ("in the nicest way"), so once a year (!!), they'll give him a well done ("I know--at least I hope--that they're proud of me, we don't talk about it," what, not even Stan? ouch)

Louis DOES have a special relationship with Chicago, this affiliation, so the goings on in the song are half theoretical/imaginative and half based on real events (OOHHHHHH????)

[atangledfate]

Surge took the copies and handed them to Kit, who had a little folder which he placed them in for safe keeping. Of the two he was the most organized and tended to keep anything important in a safe place. But at the request for proper Identification she simply gave Kit a glance, because she knew there was zero information on them in reality. They simply did not exist, and because of that it was an impossible request. Hell there paw print was lasered off so they couldn't even track it. Sad as it was, Starline made sure they'd never find there origins no matter how hard they looked.

Kit Fished around in the folder, as he spoke in a very soft but monotone voice. Like either he didn't want to show emotion or perhaps he struggled with expressing it. Despite his seeming younger age, he was very well spoken and his intellect showed in how he expressed himself. Still tinged with nervousness, and the occasional stutter but all the same it was clear who the smarter of the two was.

" That might be more tricky then we first realized. I tried to find substantial proof we could provide, however do to the status of our world alot of data has just been lost. do to the Phantom War our world is in a state of disarray and reconstruction... Two orphans like us just get overlooked. Not for the lack of trying to find data on ourselves...its been a struggle for Surge and I "

Not a lie, Kit was a smart kid and he had no idea what sort of powers Neera might have. Better to speak truth, and dance around the details then get caught in a blatant lie.

" Here, this is news Article talking about the War. Here is one about Restorations struggle to locate the families of refugees after the war do to the loss of so many data centers. I figured if i couldn't provide documents i could at least provide proof as to why. "

He slide the papers across the desk to her, they were dated though she probably had little ways to know how reputable the sources were. She had zero reason to trust his word on the matter.

" m...m...My initial thought on the matter was that, maybe you had a special statu....status for Refugees. Which i...i--- think we fall under considering the War in our zone. I thought it might circumvent some requirements but i am not familiar with the Laws of your world "

" Surge and I wish i could make this easier on you, i do not know if this will effect our citizenship status... but, it was all i could think to do. Restoration is only managed to restore 23.7% of the damaged cities since its creation after the war.And since 98% of our world was conqured... you can imagine the task Restoration has ahead of it. Even if we tried to contact them in some vain hope they could locate our ID's it could be years before they are in a state to do so..."

" Its why we wanna move here to begin with... its only a matter of time before ol' Eggy decides to wreck the place again. An it ain't like ol' Blue is gonna kill the guy, its against his moral code or some shit... anyway, is anyway we can work around papers? even if it takes longer...Sure Kit coulda forged somethin' but we are tryin' ta be honest with ya... so here i am... bein' honest "

Honest to a point, she was omitting how they got kidnapped and turned into monsters by a madman. But right now she really didn't want to talk about that. It was deeply personal, and painful for her to think about. Having to talk about it would only cause both of them to spiral into depression. She hoped Neera wouldn't press the issue, but if she did--- Surge was ready to send Kit into the Hall and spill the beans.

" I'll tell ya what ever you want to know... anything you wanna know. About Us, our World, what ever it is i gotta do to make this happen, then i'm ready to do that..."

The panda looked at the signature and smiled. "Thank you, Miss Tempest."

She took the pink page off of both papers, sliding them back over to the tenrec and fennec. Her signature would be on both pink pieces of paper--though, it would look lighter it should. Still something one could read easily though.

"These are your copies. I would recommend keeping them safe."

She opened another drawer and placed both signed sheets of paper in them, nodding to herself.

She placed both her hands on the desk and folded them together.

"I do, yes. But, a lot of the more basic questions can be glossed over with a simple proof of identification. Birth certificates, previous IDs, school IDs, work IDs, health insurance cards, any sort of diplomas, anything proving that you two are who you say you are. I imagine a birth certificate would be the easiest and quickest."

[mgg-theprettiestboy]

a spook-tacular day

matthew gray gubler x fem!reader

request: having a lazy day with Matthew, like y’all wake up at noon and lay in bed together. just giggling and talking about anything and everything. Matthew keeps sneaking little kisses. once y’all decide to get out of bed you make breakfast together and it ends in a messy food fight and burnt food so y’all just order some breakfast from a diner and cuddle on the couch all day!!

FLUFF!!!

in which halloween in quarantine isn’t all bad, being stuck with the world’s goofiest boyfriend

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, a small injury

The feeling of warmth that surrounded you when you woke up was just phenomenal. You usually did wake up pretty warm, but with your boyfriend pressed against your back, and his arms wrapped around you tightly, you were cozier than usual.

You were semi-dressed from the night before, so, carefully unraveling yourself from Matthew’s arms, you made your way out of the bed and to the bathroom to relieve yourself, before putting on some comfy pyjama bottoms. It was when you tried to sneak back into bed, did his eyes slowly begin to open.

“Morning, mop head,” you giggled as you referred to the fluffy mess of hair on his head. He just grumbled incoherently, his arms reaching out to you like a child wanting to be lifted. When you were close enough, he pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you, before rolling over to he could lay on you, with his head buried in your neck and pressing small butterfly kisses. His clingy-ness and childlike behaviour only made you laugh, “come on now, you have to get up eventually.”

“Don’t wanna,” he pouted, tightening his arms around you, “I just want to stay in bed forever with my goddess of a girlfriend. Why is that so difficult?”

You laughed, wiggling in his hold to mess with him, “because said girlfriend wants food.”

“Don’t you have a stash of emergency oreos in your nightstand? Just eat them,” he whined, nuzzling his face further into your neck. You only laughed more as his scruffy stubble rubbed against your skin, and you could feel his lips against your neck curve into a grin.

“Can’t have oreos for breakfast, Gube, that is a new quarantine low that I refuse to hit,” you smiled, moving to run your hand through his hair and play with it. He whined again, “but I wanna stay in bed. Cuddling, playing with my hair, tickling, teasing...”

“Matthew!” You squealed as his hands moved to tickle your sides, and he grinned mischievously, now straddling you as he tickled you mercilessly and laughed as you squealed and squirmed and begged, “stop, pl-please! Ah, oh my god! You are so on the sofa tonight!”

That quickly grabbed his attention his hands stilling as he stole a kiss, before he raised his brows, “is that so?”

You gulped as you smiled cutely up at him, feeling his hands lightly press against your sides, the threat of him tickling you again still looming, “uh. No, not really. I love you too much to kick you out of bed.”

He narrowed his eyes at you playfully, but his smile began to grow as he hummed, leaning down to steal another kiss, “right answer, pretty girl.”

You leaned up and pecked his lips, before quickly shoving Matthew off of you and sprinting to the door while giggling. You heard him grunt, before laughing, “oh that's it. It’s on! It is on like Donkey Kong!”

You had to hold back your laughter as you ran around the house to evade him, before settling on a good hiding place. You could hear his footsteps running around, but since you had the head start, you had lost him already. Making your way to his office, you gently shut the door behind you before ducking to hide under his desk. You held your breath in anticipation when you heard his footsteps get closer.

“Since when did tag become hide and seek?” He called out, grinning like a fool in love. Matthew opened the door to his office, and he had to bite back a laugh when he saw toes peeking out from under his desk.

“Baby? Where are you hiding? You should know I'm gonna find you. I’m the master at hide and seek,” he said, before moving into the office and closing the door, “I know you’re in here.”

You could feel your adrenaline racing as you bit your lip, trying to breath as quietly as you could. You wondered what your boyfriend you do when he found you, and your mind began to wander...

“Boo!” Matthew’s face popped up from above the desk, making you scream and jump, which resulted in you bashing your head against the desk.

“Oh shit!” He quickly climbed off of the desk and sank onto his knees to pull you out from under the desk, concern lacing his features. You clutched where you hit your head, but he pulled your hands away and parted your hair as he frowned, “show me where you hit. How badly does it hurt?”

You winced slightly as he tenderly touched your head, before snorting a laugh. He mistook this for tears, and almost started crying himself, “shit, Y/N I'm so sorry, I didn't think you’d hurt yourself.”

You covered your mouth as you began to laugh, and he pulled away from you quickly to confirm that you were indeed, laughing your ass off. “I can’t believe I bonked my head against the desk like that,” you laughed, and Matthew huffed and shook his head, before his own smile began to grow, “you are a klutz alright.”

You gasped and whacked his arm, “hey, you're the one who scared me.”

He pouted and rubbed his arm, “well you’re the one who shoved me and ran away.”

“Well you're the one who started tickling me.”

“..... Okay you got me there.”

You giggled as he grinned, before he wrapped his arms around you to lift you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck as he carried you downstairs. He had changed, from wearing just his boxers, to an old worn Charlie Brown T-shirt and maroon shorts.

“Hey look, we’re matching,” you smiled, pointing at your Snoopy t-shirt. Well. It was Matthew’s t-shirt, technically. He grinned, kissing your nose as he walked into the kitchen, “awesome. And we did it unintentionally, too.”

You hummed and nodded, with a stupid smile on your face, as he sat you down on the kitchen counter. He tried to move to the fridge, but you had your ankles locked together so he couldn’t get far. He chuckled as you pulled him back closer to you, wrapping his arms around you, “I thought you were hungry?”

“I want a hug. Hug first, then food,” you mumbled as you shut your eyes and rested your head against his shoulder. You couldn't help yourself, he was just so huggable. He was your home, and you took so much comfort in his touch.

“How does French toast sound?” He whispered as he rubbed your back, making you sigh happily, “how does French kissing sound?”

 He snorted a laugh, looking down at you with a goofy grin, “sounds like you wanna eat me for breakfast.”

“Oh, absolutely Mr. Gubler,” you retorted, making him laugh as he finally moved over to the fridge, taking out the different things to make breakfast. You watched him move the the cupboards next, and you hopped off of the counter to start making coffee. You felt something pat your head, so you frowned and turned around, thinking Matthew was patting your head. When you looked to him, he was stood behind you, with a mischievous grin and a bag of flour in his hand.

“I didn’t think we needed flour for French toast?” You asked, and he giggled, “probably not.”

And then it dawned on you. You touched your head, gasping when you saw your hand was white, “Matthew! You little gremlin.”

“If anything, you're the little gremlin. I’m a big gremlin,” he grinned, making you scoff, “oh yeah? Could little gremlins do this?”

You grabbed an egg, and granted, you had to jump a little, but you cracked it over his head. His jaw dropped, and there was a moment of silence as you both just stared at each other. Then you both moved. He started throwing the flour at you, while you broke as many eggs over him as you could. After squeals and giggles, from the both of you, he had tackled you to the ground, where you both lay in a floury eggy mess, laughing your asses off.

“I can't wait to do this with kids someday,” he hummed, smiling happily at the thought. You scoffed, “yeah right. There’s no way we can have a food fight with our future babies, cause then they’ll think it’s okay to throw food, and we’ll be living in a food-coated nightmare.”

“This is why you’ll be the responsible parent, and I will not,” he kissed your forehead, before grimacing as you laughed at seeing his lips coated with flour. He wiped his mouth, before standing up and pulling you up to stand, “why don’t you go shower? I’ll tidy this up and order us some food.”

“Hmm, I would stay and help, but since you’re the little shit who started this whole food fight, I’ll leave you at it,” you pecked his lips, before moving around the mess and upstairs to the shower. He joined you after ten minutes, and soon enough, you were both cuddled up on the sofa, eating French toast at 2pm, and watching halloween movies in the ugliest matching Halloween sweaters Matthew could find.

“I love you so much, you colossal dork,” you mumbled, smiling as you watched your boyfriend massage your feet. He sighed over dramatically, “the things I do for you, and what do I get in return? Insulted!”

You laughed, “dork is an endearing term. You’re my dork.”

He grinned widely, crawling up to kiss you lightly, “and you’re mine.”

[hauntedflamingo]

How many kids? part one

Eggsy x Reader

A/N: this one is cuter than the last one I wrote about babies. At least the beginning of this part. After that I think it goes downhill. I wasn’t planning on writing this one next but that is what happened. Sorry for any mistakes. Also  Y/A/N is your agent name. i just left it like that cause I am not good at making names up.

  “What are you doing?” The chair you are sitting in slightly dips as Eggsy looks over your shoulder at the computer screen. “Nothing!” You quickly move the mouse to the x on a tab, closing that web page. 

“The page you just closed was named baby clothes.” He points out.

“I was looking at them for a friend.” You grumble, hoping your attitude will get him off the subject. Scrolling down the screen, you continue your quest to find a hotel room. You and Eggsy had time off from Kingsman and you wanted to take a mini vacation. 

“Have you decided on a destination?” He asks. 

Resting your head on the back of the chair, you look up at Eggsy “How about Las Vegas?” 

“Actually, Las Vegas is a little too far.” He looks down at you. 

“Oh. Where did you want to go?” You ask, trying to hide your disappointment. 

“I was thinking about Paris.” He offers. 

“Can we also go to Disneyland?” 

“Sure.” 

Once you make the reservations, you grab them from the printer and walk over to the door. Eggsy takes your seat and begins typing on the keyboard. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, leaning against the door. 

“Nothing!” He mocks you, moving the chair to hide your view of the computer. 

Turning around, you head downstairs to watch tv. A few minutes later, Eggsy walks downstairs joining you on the couch. He sits next to you and stares at you with a ridiculous grin on his face. 

“What?” You ask, starting to feel a little nervous. That face usually meant he was up to something. “Why did you have 20 pages open about baby items?” 

“I told you I was looking at them for a friend.” One of your friends really was pregnant and that got you thinking about having your own baby one day. “So that’s what you were doing. Spying on me.” 

“You are going to buy her a crib?” He teases. “And I wasn’t spying. I was just keeping myself up to date on your activities.” 

“No. I didn’t buy anything.” You insist. “I was curious as to how much baby items cost.”

 “So, you don’t have anything that you need to tell me?” He scoots closer to you.

 “Um. No...like what?” 

The next week is your trip to Paris and the first stop is Disneyland.

The whole morning you are staring at every baby you see in the park. Even at the store where you are supposed to be buying souvenirs, you are drawn to the baby clothes.

 Once you sit down to eat lunch, Eggsy starts his inquiry. “What’s going on with you? You seem to be a bit preoccupied today.” 

“What are you talking about?” You ask, cluelessly. 

“Every time we pass a baby, you can’t take your eyes off them.” 

“They are cute, aren’t they?” You gush. “With their chubby cheeks and their tiny fingers and toes.” 

Eggsy laughs at your comment, shaking his head before he takes a sip of his drink. 

As you continue to eat, your mind races. You have to tell him. But how? The easiest way was to spit it out. “I want a baby.” You whisper. 

“Can you say that again?” He moves in closer, leaning his head towards yours. “I couldn’t hear you.”

 “I want a baby.” 

“Why didn’t you say something?” A smile spreads across his face. 

“Well…we haven’t talked about them for a while and I wasn’t sure if you still wanted one.” 

That seemed like an eternity ago.

 ……………………………………………………………………………………………

 Muting the tv, you turn on your side to face Eggsy. “I want to talk to you about something.” You whisper. 

“What is it, love?” He reaches over to rub your arm. 

You let out a breath, you didn’t know you were holding in. It shouldn’t be this hard to tell him how you feel. “I was thinking about getting birth control.” You spit out, hoping he doesn’t get mad. Your heart starts to speed up as you continue speaking. Worried about what he is going to say. 

“I mean, we have enough kids, right? You didn’t want anymore, did you?” Looking down, you watch your little girl sleep in between you and Eggsy. 

It seems like an eternity before he finally answers. “Yes. We have enough kids. I think birth control is a great idea.” 

That was not the answer you were expecting. For some reason, you thought you were going to have to fight with him on this subject.I wonder what he will say to the next question. “Can you go with me to the appointment so we can discuss the options together?” 

“Of course, I will go with you. But right now, this little one needs to get to her own bed.” Eggsy picks her up, cradling her against his body as he stands from the bed. 

“Wait!” You whisper, standing up from the bed. You meet Eggsy at the door before he leaves to give her a kiss. “Good night my sweet girl.”

 Sitting down on the bed, you grab the baby monitor from the bed side table and turn it on. You stare at it while you wait to hear Eggy’s voice from the other one. 

“Agent Galahad to Agent Y/A/N, she is tucked in and ready for a full night’s sleep.” 

“I hope so.” 

“I am going to check on the rest of the kids.” 

“Okay.” You set the monitor down. A few minutes later, Eggsy is back in the room. “Surprisingly, they were all asleep.” 

“Wow. That’s never happens.” You should have known since nobody ran into the room in the last 20 minutes. 

When they call your name, Eggsy follows you carrying your little girl. “We need to test you first to make sure you’re not pregnant before we put you on birth control.” The doctor says, holding out a cup for you to pee in. “Ok. I will be right back.” You grab the cup and leave the room to the toilets. After you pee, you head back to the exam room. Thirty minutes later and you are still waiting for the doctor to come back. “What is taking her so long?” You ask Eggsy. He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know.” The doctor walks back in with a smile on her face. “Well, you won’t need birth control any time soon.”

 “Why?” You ask warily, confused by her suddenly cheerful attitude. “You’re already pregnant. Congratulations!” She looks from you to Eggsy Shock is an understatement of how you feel. Eggsy was lucky he was holding your daughter. Otherwise, you would have thrown something at him. You give Eggsy the death stare as the doctor continues to speak, not listening to her. Eggsy continues the rest of the conversation with the doctor. He also speaks to the receptionist to set up your next appointment.

 You follow him out to the car. He buckles the baby into the car seat while you get into the passenger seat. “Do you want to get something for lunch before we head home?” Eggsy asks, starting the car. You don’t even hear his question. You are in your own world as you stare out the window. He nudges your shoulder “Y/N??” You look over at him “What!”

 “Do you want to get something to eat?” Eggsy repeats.

“Yeah. Sure. Whatever you want.” By the time you go through the drive thru and get home the baby is asleep. You take her to her bedroom and put her in the crib while Eggsy brings the food into the house. You sit down at the dining room table, barley touching your food. 

“You need to eat.” He orders. 

You pick up a fry from Eggsy’s food and throw it at him. Looking down, you run your hands through your hair. “We just went through this the other day.” 

“Well obviously, you got pregnant before our conversation.” 

“It’s not funny.” You mumble, on the verge of tears. Eggsy gets up from his chair and squats down next to you. “Baby don’t cry. We will figure it out.” 

“I thought we were done.” The tears fall down your face. “I don’t know if I can handle five kids.”

tag: @deankarnysbitch​

[chrollogy]

AAAAAA thank u for the tag sweet eggy <3

started writing

oh my goodness probably around 2012-13 (i was 10-11 y/o) when i first got into kpop LMAOAOAOAO i used to write those cliché high school fics back in a site called ‘asianfanfiction’ if i’m not mistaken !! a lot of people really liked it though so it fuelled my writing drive ehehe

started blogging

2016!! its the account most of my early moots know AKDJKSKS i used to just rb kpop stuff and make moodboards !! though, i didn’t touch tumblr for the longest time until 2021 where i got into anime fics :> and i first published my tumblr fic early 2023 ! so yeee i’ve been here for quite a while, just on another side :>

followers

516 atm!! pray for me that i pass the 1k curse and not leave again (for the third time) LMAOOAOAOAOA

communication

i’ve always known that i’m a better communicator online than irl, i guess i just hate having to bare my feelings— but anyway !! i’m really introverted

likes

sure thing :> thought i do appreciate it as much if you let me know yours thoughts about my work !!

requests

as of now, not doing it :< i liked doing it back then, not gonna lie but since i have more on my plate, i don’t think i can do it </3

writing

i love love LOVE writing !! honestly, with the state i am in with writing, i think this is my top form since i’m surprisingly doing a series which i love and enjoy. i feel like i’m so back in my element and i wish to never stray from it again !! ngl, back when i was writing on my old accs, it felt like such a chore and i don’t want to feel that way again

fic you’re proud of

oh, without a doubt ‘from me to you’ !! <3 for so so many reasons.

tags: @ljubimaya @gennysuga <3 (no pressure pookies)

Behind the scenes of a Tumblr Writer - Tag Game

Hey there, I love behind the scenes and since this is something that's rarely talked about, let me start the chain... if you feel uncomfortable with a question, just skip it. You can add some if you want as well.

Started writing: I wrote my first Harry Potter fanfic at age 10. Started posting around 15,16 years old. I'm now 31, so...

Started blogging: I started on a German fanfiction site around 2010/11 I think. Might have been earlier too, but back then I was mostly reading, no posting. I really started when I got into One Direction (very late, tbh)

Followers: Currently at 961, which is wild to me. I don't even know that many people IRL. I convince myself that half of them are bots tbh, so I don't freak out all the time.

Communication: The people I talk to regularly are: a few writers who answered after I constantly reblogged and commented on their works and a few people who commented and reblogged my work. Writing and blogging on here can be pretty lonely, depending on your personality and the time you're active (I'm from Europe and a lot of my followers seem to be living in Northern America, so there's the Timezone thing) ... And I found that the best way to strike a conversation is to reblog, comment, and to not be shy. I do wish I got more asks, though....

Likes: I actually filter them out. I have 793 original posts up at the moment. It doesn't give me anything to know how many likes a fic has other than to tell me which characters are liked more than others or maybe that one fic does especially well. My activity only shows me comments, asks, reblogs with tags, and answers to my own asks. I live for the tags and the comments.

Requests: I love talking to people about ideas. That's how I started the plotbunny game because I have so many ideas and so little time. And sometimes an idea just doesn't want to be written out fully. Requests are fun because YAY, I get some mail... but then I freak out because I don't really know how to write this NOW and then I freak out because it's been a week already, two weeks, wait, two months? I'd rather have suggestions where people tell me vague things like "I'd love to read something about this side character" or "Have you ever considered this character with a soulmate trope"? because then I don't have the feeling of failing the request when I write it a little bit differently.

Writing: I am a fast writer. I know that's one of my talents. I can churn out a oneshot of 1k words in less than an hour. People read slower than I write. That can suck sometimes because you've just posted this and you want to know what people are thinking but they're not as fast as you are. I do have a lot of ideas. I want to write constantly but my brain doesn't always want to. I am trying to respect that.

There are also certain things that I just feel wrong writing. I cannot write anything suggestive (I also don't like reading it) and everything past that gives me panic attacks. I can hardly write mean characters and jealousy feels so wrong to me that I cannot write it. I've also overdone it with the soulmark trope and now I feel like everything I write about it feels lifeless.

I write best in the mornings before going to work, but I don't have much time there. I don't need special music (but it helps), but I need to have at least some energy left and at best, no distractions. But I have been writing for over 20 years, so I will say experience helps a lot.

Tagging: @revasserium @shoulmate @lemurzsquad @screamin-abt-haikyuu @toomanygoldfish @satorisoup @emmyrosee @reverie-starlight @alienaiver and @writingsofanomnivore and everyone else who wants to join