#I literally saw it at work and promptly screamed
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xxskycrystalxx · 1 year ago
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KASTLE IS COMING BACK TO US!!!!!!!!!!
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plethorawrites · 1 month ago
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I love the secret gf stuff with Jason so much juat in general but you write it so incredibly well! It’s such a pleasure to read. Do u have any ideas or hcs about how the Batfam eventually finds out? My personal fav I’ve seen is Babs seeing a photo reader uploaded of Jason to their private ig that Babs somehow found anyways. Do you have a fav iteration of this theme or anything more like it?
I feel like the info hits one of them and spreads like an incredulous wildfire. (Ie. Once someone says something NO ONE believes them.) I think it would be most realistic if Roy slipped up to Dick, given he's in the Titans (yay for the recent issues) and Jay's close friend.
I think Roy would have 100% met you before and maybe even repeatedly to the point you have each other's phone numbers and the three of you occasionally go out for drinks, which is literally just him third wheeling while you sit in Jason's lap.
Needless to say, you're all close. And he's sworn to secrecy. Which he keeps up, for the most part.
Until he's on a stakeout with Dick and realizes it's where you and Jason were going for dinner... Cue confusion.
"Oh, shit, that's where Jay's date is..." He would mumble without even realizing it, more worried about the fact that the place might get blown up than about who was standing next to him.
Dick of course heard him and turned in disbelief. "Jason's what?!" He exclaimed. "He has a date?" Jason never went on dates. Ever. They had all tried a dozen times to get him to go out and he never did.
Roy quickly realized his mistake and (poorly) attempted to rectify it. "No. Of course not! Why would you think he's got a girlfriend? He has no game."
Dick's eyes widened. "I didn't say girlfriend, I said date because you said date. He's got a girlfriend?" He wasn't sure if he should be happy for his brother or try to kill him for hiding it. "Who is she? For how long?"
He'd instantly start trying to comb through his memories to find any signs he could have missed or start making assumptions about you based on his brother's type.
Roy promptly shuts the hell up and says nothing else. Dick, however, says plenty.
He tells the entire family, obviously.
And no one believes him.
He's a jokester and they think it's some elaborate stunt to get back at Jason for pissing him off. It takes weeks before any of them finally believe it and it's only because they start looking at Jason through the lens of someone with a significant other—something they never really considered.
He's always been a bit distant so no one ever considered that when he disappeared after a mission before check in he was actually calling you to make sure you knew he was safe. They notice the slight smell of something nicer lingering on him than his usual soap, because you liked it and he loved you. They realize the slightest discrepancy in his behavior in the field, how he's a bit more cautious and restrained because he doesn't want to risk getting hurt and facing your sad eyes.
Alfred, of course, knows. He's the one Jason always goes to for advice.
That's when the truth finally came out and Dick was believed. Jason had, like usual, gone to Alfred for advice, this time about the idea of proposing. He wanted to know if he thought it was the right time and of course Alfred told him if he was considering it to the point of asking for an opinion, then it was already a thought imbedded too deeply to push away.
A few weeks later, he was showing Alfred the ring when Damian, hungry for a snack after school walked into the kitchen and saw it. He then, promptly and politely excused himself from the room before loudly screaming "Grayson was right!" Through the whole house.
Jason just groaned, trying to escape before the endless questions could start. Not that it worked. They had him cornered in minutes and Dick looked like he had finally been validated.
"Who told you? Was it Roy?" He demanded, already envisioning ways to kill him.
"The better question is why didn't you?" He retorted. "We're supposed to know these sorts of things. Don't you think we'd be happy for you?"
That had nothing to do with it. He knew they would love you. They were just...a lot. A lot of trauma, a lot of darkness, a lot of danger. He already hated putting you in danger by association to him, he couldn't imagine what could happen if you got embedded in the entire family.
"I just- you're all are a bit hectic you know? She's not like us. I don't want her around all the trouble." And the endless embarrassing stories that his siblings could tell...but that was besides the point. "I want her to be safe and happy and...I didn't want to risk either by introducing her to you guys."
...
That...was the remarkabley sweet of him.
"I still need to meet her," Bruce would insist firmly.
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sunarryn · 26 days ago
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DP X Marvel #24
When Danny Fenton got into MIT, he thought the biggest challenge would be balancing ghost hunting with college coursework. What he didn’t expect was to impress Dr. Jane Freaking Foster—renowned astrophysicist, literal genius, the mind behind the Foster Theory, and, unbeknownst to her, his idol since age thirteen—during a campus science expo when he presented his thesis on interdimensional ectoplasmic lattice fluctuations as a potential fuel source for wormhole stabilization. He thought she’d walk by his booth with a polite smile. Instead, she paused, squinted at his equations, asked three rapid-fire questions, then turned to the MIT faculty and said, “Is this kid legally allowed to work in a government lab yet?”
That’s how he became her apprentice.
Danny thought it would be, you know, an internship. Fetch coffee, carry papers, maybe input data if he got lucky. What he didn’t expect was to be living in New Mexico three months later, standing on a roof beside Jane Foster while she casually pointed at the sky and said, “If this gravitational anomaly maintains its trajectory, we’ll have a Yggdrasil branch brush up against the heliopause by Tuesday. That’s new.”
Danny nodded, mostly pretending he understood.
What neither of them anticipated was Thor crashing into their lives again like a golden retriever with a god complex and a hammer. He landed dramatically during a research presentation, lightning still fizzing off his cape, and made such eye contact with Jane that the projector screen behind them shorted out.
And then he saw Danny.
“Young one!” Thor bellowed, eyes wide, blond hair tousled by divine winds, “You must be her son.”
Danny blinked. “I—what?”
“Of course!” Thor clasped his shoulder. “You have her radiant intellect and tenacity. Truly, you are worthy of Midgard’s finest mother.”
“I—she’s not—” Danny tried.
Thor turned to Jane, face alight. “You did not tell me you had borne a child! And one so strong in spirit! A scholar of the stars!”
Jane rubbed her temples. “Thor. He’s nineteen. I met him last month. He’s my apprentice. He is not my son.”
Thor shook his head gravely. “Say no more, Jane. I understand. You wished to protect him from the dangers of our past. But I vow upon Mjolnir’s handle, I shall be a father to him.”
“What the hell,” Danny muttered.
Over the next few days, things escalated fast.
Danny woke up one morning to find a goat outside the lab. A live goat. Wearing a ribbon. The tag read: For my brave son, may his mornings be strong of milk and noble of beard. Jane nearly choked on her cereal. Darcy screamed and immediately named the goat “Spacey.”
Thor showed up during Danny’s lecture on cosmic radiation and brought a sack of Asgardian textbooks written in glowing runes, which promptly caused two lab interns to faint and one professor to file a complaint.
Danny begged Jane to tell him this would stop.
“No,” Jane said, sipping her coffee without looking up. “You’re his emotional support stepson now.”
“I don’t want to be anyone’s emotional support anything!” Danny cried. “I have ectoplasmic trauma and insomnia!”
But Thor persisted.
He invited Danny to spar in the desert, claiming it would “toughen his warrior instincts.” Danny blasted a crater in the sand when a ghost startled him mid-match, and Thor wept with pride. “Such fire! Truly, a son worthy of thunder.”
Jane sighed. “You’re going to give him a complex.”
“I already have a complex!” Danny yelled from where he was half-buried in sand.
Then came the night Thor pulled Danny aside with intense solemnity.
“Daniel,” he said, kneeling, “I seek your blessing.”
Danny froze, halfway through a sandwich. “I—what—blessing for what?”
“To court your mother.”
“She’s NOT my—!”
Thor raised a hand. “Please. I know you wish to protect her. But my heart is true. I have spent long hours learning Midgardian courtship. Observe.”
He pulled out a guitar. A guitar. From nowhere. And began strumming aggressively while singing off-key.
“Oh Jane, fairest in the stars, your eyes burn like a neutron quasaaaaaar—”
Danny screamed into his sandwich.
Jane screamed into her coffee.
Darcy recorded the entire thing.
By the time the Avengers got wind of what was happening, it was too late. Tony Stark showed up purely out of pettiness.
“So this is the ‘son,’ huh?” he said, looking Danny up and down like he was a new model of iPhone. “You do look like Jane. Same ‘don’t talk to me before coffee’ vibe. But with a sprinkle of sleep-deprived raccoon.”
Danny glared. “You must be the one Jane threatens to launch into orbit when she’s annoyed.”
“See? Family resemblance,” Tony muttered.
Then Steve Rogers took Thor aside and whispered, “Are you sure he’s her kid? Jane would’ve told us if she had a child.”
Thor nodded gravely. “It is the only explanation. He speaks with passion, has knowledge of the stars, and I saw him summon green fire from his hands!”
“It was a ghost, Thor,” Danny shouted from across the lab. “It was literally a ghost trying to possess a vending machine!”
“Exactly!” Thor beamed.
“Thor. I’m nineteen. Jane is thirty-seven.”
“She is a goddess among mortals. Perhaps she birthed you when she was five.”
“That’s not how—YOU KNOW WHAT, NEVER MIND.”
Soon, even Loki showed up, slinking into the lab with a smirk like a serpent in silk.
“I had to see for myself,” he purred, circling Danny like a shark. “The mortal child who ensnared my brother’s affections.”
Danny just blinked. “I’m not his kid. Or Jane’s. I’m not even sure I’m awake right now.”
Loki chuckled. “You’ll make an excellent prince. Do you have any interest in necromancy?”
“I’m a ghost half the time,” Danny deadpanned. “Define interest.”
Loki grinned wider.
Eventually, S.H.I.E.L.D. got involved. Fury showed up, took one look at the scene—the goat eating research notes, Thor trying to build Danny a golden throne, Jane yelling about radiation levels, and Danny levitating out of sheer stress—and muttered, “Nope,” before turning around and leaving.
But beneath all the chaos, Danny… didn’t hate it.
Jane never treated him like a kid. She taught him everything, from solar flares to Bifrost trajectories. She let him make mistakes, then helped him fix them. She told him he was brilliant, and for once, he kind of believed it. And Thor, for all his thunderous confusion, brought him starfruit from Alfheim and carved him a wooden Mjolnir as a “coming-of-age” gift.
Danny didn’t even mind the goat anymore.
He still insisted, every day, that Jane was not his mom.
But when Thor presented him with a massive, hand-forged broadsword inscribed with: To my noble son, may your ghosts be vanquished and your GPA ever high, he kind of teared up.
A little.
One evening, as they watched the stars from the roof, Jane handed Danny a cup of tea.
“He really does think you’re my kid,” she said.
Danny took a sip. “Yeah. I gave up trying to convince him.”
“Is it weird?”
“Kinda. But… not bad.” He hesitated. “Do you… mind?”
Jane looked at him, surprised. “No. I mean—you’re not. But if you were, I’d be proud.”
Danny stared at the stars until they blurred.
Later, Thor appeared beside them, cape fluttering dramatically despite the lack of wind.
“I have returned with tales of valor,” he declared, “and also cheesecake.”
Danny took the box.
“Son!” Thor beamed.
Danny sighed.
“Fine. You can have my blessing.”
Thor dropped Mjolnir in joy.
Jane looked horrified. “Danny, what the hell?!”
“I didn’t say I wanted it to happen,” Danny muttered. “I just figured he’d stop bringing me swords if I gave in.”
“He won’t,” she said flatly.
He didn’t.
The next morning, Danny woke up to find a full set of Asgardian armor beside his bed and a note that read: For my beloved heir. P.S. I have begun planning the wedding. Do you think your mother would prefer swans or flaming eels as decoration?
He screamed into his pillow.
The goat screamed with him.
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chuulyssa · 1 year ago
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🇨​​ 🇴 ​​🇳 ​​🇫​​ 🇪 ​​🇸​​ 🇸 ​​🇮 ​​🇴 ​​🇳​ !
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BSD MEN REACTING TO A CONFESSION.
↷ A/N ─ yes new divider again because im indecisive as heck
★ FT. ─ dazai , chuuya , ranpo , akutagawa , atsushi , fyodor
!! TAGS ─ mentions of suicide, insecurities, overall fluff
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"i love you."
ᴅᴀᴢᴀɪ.
promptly replies with, "i love you too."
he'll lean into you with an amused smile because he lowkey thinks you're joking
when he realizes you're serious about it he'll immediately stop the stupid grin
and look at you with this sincere look you've never seen on his face before
he'll hold your hand and everything while repeating "i love you too," for a second time, only this time he's serious about it too
definitely asks for double suicide later
"You know it's my motto to unalive myself with a beautiful woman. How lucky of you to have been bestowed upon this honour."
"Mhm."
"I'll say yes if you join me in a double suicide," he asks with puppy eyes.
"Dazai, you already said yes."
"I'll say it again!"
​ᴄʜᴜᴜʏᴀ.
he stops abruptly and half chokes on his expensive ass wine
poor boy is really confused 😭 because "where did that come from??"
he tries to play it cool but he's literally SCREAMING inside
we all know he's been betrayed a lot of times in the past so he feels hesitant about it
will decide to give it a shot tho
100% calls dazai to brag about it
"You may be taller or whatever (as if that matters in the first place) but were you the one able to steal her heart? Eh? I think not!"
You chuckle hearing him update his rival of his new relationship status.
"And anyway," he raises a glass of wine for toast. "I'd like to thank my good looks, good looks and did I mention my good looks (?) for making tonight the happiest night ever."
ʀᴀɴᴘᴏ.
"i know."
he has always observed every single thing about you - how you behave around others vs how you behave around him, the little times you look at him like you want his attention etc etc
he's known about this since like soooo long
he defo also knew when where and how you were gonna confess
went to yosano for tips to react to it and bought you chocolates and stuff. he thinks it'll make you happy :D
eats all of that himself even tho he originally bought it for you but you let it slide because he's a cutie patootie
"You could at least have been a bit subtle about it," he says, munching on his chips. "I mean, anyone who saw you would've been able to guess. I didn't even need my ability for this!"
He lifts his chin up thoughtfully, fingers ripping open another packet of snacks. "You should be grateful I'm not a snitch. Eh, well," he shrugs, "You're now dating the greatest detective in the world! Congratulations!"
ᴀᴋᴜᴛᴀɢᴀᴡᴀ.
"eh???"
like chuuya, he's pretty confused too
"are you sure?"
tries to keep a straight face and hide his fluster
he'll narrow his eyes at you as if he's trying to read your emotions. he doesn't wanna get hurt if he gets too attached to you and you two end up breaking up
also how tf is he supposed to believe that someone like YOU like someone like HIM?
reassure him that he's perfect please :( poor baby deserves the world
"I am a lot of work. I don't think you can keep up with all of that," he says shortly.
"I'll try my best."
"You don't have to."
"But I want to!"
He stares at you for a few moments, looking like he's about to cry.
"Oh, alright then," he waves a hand around. "But don't you ever leave me."
ᴀᴛꜱᴜꜱʜɪ.
screams
"SAY IT AGAIN PLEASE!"
jumps around everywhere in happiness
you dont even get a verbal answer the man's just dancing around
either that or he just faints
he's, like akutagawa, insecure about himself. but he's much more open to showing his emotions to you.
you end up cuddling the whole night or he calls off work to be with you for the rest of the day <3
"I..." he repeats the same word for the fifth time in a row.
"Yes?"
"Don't mind me, I'm just trying to come to terms with the fact that I get to date you."
"Is that a bad thing?"
"No, no!" he panics, wringing both hands all over himself hastily. "I love you! Really!"
ꜰʏᴏᴅᴏʀ.
no reaction. im sorry
spares a small glance at you but otherwise doesn't get distracted from his work
you think he's gone deaf from the way he just ignored you cuz what????
will spend like 15 minutes that way before extending an arm to you and you lowkey DONT KNOW WHAT TO DO??? HELP??
he'll stare at you for a few seconds before pulling you onto his lap and continuing with his work
and that's his way of saying yes
He shuts the computers around him down and taps your outer thigh twice. You immediately stand up and help him up. He stares at you for a few seconds, contemplating something.
"You know, I never thought I'd enable others to call me a lovesick fool."
"Does that mean you are a lovesick fool?"
"A little, maybe," he turns around and walks out of the door while you follow him with a soft smile on your face.
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© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.
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kquil · 2 years ago
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How about the marauders meeting their match in reader from Slytherin and falling for her, but reader is oblivious?
Btw i love your writing, you're literally my favorite writer
PERFECT MATCH
I tried! it's not my best work but i hope you like it anyhow, darling
i also hope i interpreted this request correctly (┳Д┳)
length : 0.8k
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You go barrelling into James’s chest with a yelp and take a moment to recover, “oops! Sorry about that!” you grin up at the Gryffindor chaser as he and his three other friends stare down at you in bewilderment. Most Slytherins would scoff or pull a disgusted face at the sight of a Gryffindor so your apparent and undisturbed rapture was bewildering. 
“GET BACK HERE YOU DAFT COW!” It was then that they finally saw the merriment be wiped from your face and get replaced by slight terror. 
“gottarunbye!” you push away from James’s chest and speed away as the marauders stare at you, still bewildered at what they just witnessed. Not long after you made your prompt exit did a group of Slytherins go run past them with warts all over their faces. 
“Wow…” Sirius whistles lowly, impressed by your handiwork, “Rosier, Macmillan, Lestrange, Malfoy and Nott too,”
“To her own house as well,” James voices in shock. 
“Somehow, I hope she gets away with it,” Remus tucks his hands into his pockets as he smirks at his friends. 
“Me too,” Peter pipes in, “I was partners with her in Potions once, she was civil, friendly even but still guarded,” the boys listened to his observations closely, even leaning in to do so, “I thought she was just shy but…”
“Interesting…” Remus hums to himself, speaking what was on everyone’s minds.  
The next time they see you is during charms. The room was circular and the podium for the teacher to explain spells and communicate openly with the students was in the centre, while the students were seated all around and at different levels, much like a circular theatre. From their side of the room, James, Sirius and Remus watch as you snicker to yourself, using the ‘wingardum leviosa’ charm to sneakily move the quill of the Slytherin in front and below you from their right side to their left, then back again when they found it but didn’t have use for it at that moment. 
Sirius giggles along with you when you make eye contact across the room. You wink at him and mouth a ‘watch this’. He focuses his gaze on the scene and has to hold back a devious cackle when you momentarily transfigure the quill into a spider just as the Slytherin student went to reach for his ‘quill’. This pulls a piercing, girlish scream out of your victim but when the professor swiftly turns to see what was wrong, you had already turned the spider back into a quill again. Promptly, Slytherin was deducted house points for causing a disruption in class — a small price to pay. 
“She’s my new idol,” Sirius sighs with his chin propped up on his palm, a dreamy look in his eyes, “forget her being a Slytherin,”
You meet eyes with Sirius once more, who silently claps for you as you pretend to tip a hat at him. Looking down you see James with his jaw slacked and mouth open at you in awe. He couldn’t believe how brilliant you were and his mind was racing with thoughts of whether he should try to compete against you or celebrate your small but remarkable victory. So caught up in his admiration of you, James overlooked the elegant swish of your wand and almost screamed in fear when he felt something ticking his chin. Abruptly pulling away with force, he watches as his feathered quill slowly floats down to his desk, beside his parchment. 
“She tickled me…” James awes, “with my quill…” 
“She’s a pretty little minx, is what she is,” Sirius comments with a chuckle, unable to take his eyes off your sweet face and pouty lips. Beside his two friends, Remus stares at you with a captivated gaze and can’t seem to keep his eyes away for too long when they have to return to taking notes for class. You became a prominent distraction for Remus, leaving Peter to seek help from the student seated on his other side, who wasn’t much good either. 
After some moments, Remus looks up at you only to make brief eye contact with him, which he embarrassingly, swiftly pulls away from. He looks at you several more times, still avoiding your gaze, until he catches you folding up a small piece of paper. He proceeds to stare in fascination as you create an origami bird that you gently breathe life into, sending it across the classroom to him, flapping its delicate wings for flight. The dainty bird lands gracefully on his parchment, where it falls lifelessly. Meeting your eyes again, you subtly signal him to unfold it and read the message written inside while Sirius and James lean over to have a read for themselves. 
‘Who’s more ticklish between you and Sirius?’
The question makes Remus look up and stare at you with a raised brow. However, the sight of your impish smirk as you twirl your wand between your fingers makes his heart hammer in his chest frantically. The brunette turns to James who was holding in his laughter and trying to hide his grin behind a closed fist. 
“Looks like you two are next,” the Gryffindor chaser chuckles under his breath as Sirius and Remus share a look before gulping apprehensively. They look at you with tense shoulders, nervous eyes and butterflies in their stomachs. 
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pureartistchaos · 6 months ago
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Here's the entirety of the grocery store Rocky Horror fic because I feel like it belongs on this app
(Also @bradassholemajors asked me to post it sooo...)
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"Frank, I really don't think this is necessary."
Frank dramatically flicked his hand, lowering his sunglasses to see the face of a very uncomfortable Columbia. "Well, you are the one who was complaining about our choice of food. I'm just trying to stop your incessant whining."
"Meatloaf every single night is a bit excessive, is all! And I meant your outfit."
Frank scoffed. "I'm just trying to look presentable."
"...We're going to a Price Chopper." Janet said softly.
"And?" Frank challenged.
"And you're wearing 9 in heels, a corset, enough jewlery to put a Victorian child into a coma, and fishnets." Brad said flatly, pulling out his wallet.
"So? At least I look good. You look like you work at the price chopper." Frank retorted.
“We’re here.” Riffraff sighed, pulling the car over. “Please, just get out.”
“Thank you.” Frank smiled. “Remember, I expect the whole castle to be clean and dinner to be made when we get back.”
“You’ve told us enough times.” Magenta sighed, helping Frank out.
“Clearly not- not if you’re still complaining.” Frank rolled his eyes, stepping out of the car and dragging Brad with him.
“...Rocky and I are going to go look for some uh- bottled water! Yeah.” Brad announced, promptly sprinting off with Rocky on his heels, casting an apologetic look at Janet.
“I’m gonna go with him!” Columbia added, sprinting after the two of them.
“I guess it’s just you and me, Weiss.” Frank smirked, putting a hand around Janet’s waist. His hand was promptly swatted off.
“Unfortunately.” Janet muttered, walking inside. She pretended to look at a front display of something she didn’t want, nor did she need.
“Oh, lighten up. Brad told me you love shopping.” Frank hummed, walking into an aisle. “Ooh, this looks good! It looks like that sports drink Brad gave to Rocky… gatorade, or something?” He asked, picking up a bottle with neon blue liquid.
“...Frank, that’s windex.” Janet replied, mortified.
“Windex… I’ve never heard of it.” He shrugged, tossing it in the cart.
“Frank, you- you’ll get poisoned if you drink that.”
“Ohhh! Relax, dear, human alcohol doesn’t affect me.”
“No-” Janet sighed, putting the Windex back. “It’s a cleaning product, Frank. For windows and stuff.”
“Oh.” Frank shrugged, putting it back in the cart. “Well, that’s a gift for Magenta, then.”
“Isn’t it rude to give her-”
“Nonsense. She needs it.” Frank sighed. “Oh, Rocky would get it. I don’t know why he likes you of all people.”
“I don’t know why Brad likes you of all people.”
“And why is that? Everyone likes me!” Frank replied over his shoulder, looking at nail polish.
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that.” Janet spat. “I’m gonna go find my fiance.”
“You still have one of those?” Frank crossed his arms.
“Just help me find Brad!” Janet snapped, marching off.
“The sign says bottled water is the other way!” Frank called after her.
“I’LL WORK MY WAY AROUND TO IT!” Janet shouted back.
Frank shrugged and walked towards the water. He regretted it instantly when he saw Rocky on the floor, flailing his arms and having a tantrum like a literal toddler.
“...He wanted a chocolate bar.” Columbia explained.
“No way. He knows he isn't allowed.” Frank snapped quickly. He seemed to instantly regret his words when Rocky screamed louder and threw a chocolate bar at him. “...Oh, my.”
“What do we do?!” Columbia asked, panicked.
“Uh- Brad will handle it!” Frank announced, pushing Brad forward.
“WHY ME?!”
“BECAUSE YOU'RE GOOD AT THIS!”
“Just let him have the damn chocolate bar!”
“No! He's only allowed to eat-”
“DUCK!” Columbia shrieked as another chocolate bar flew at them.
“Please, Frank, just let him have it!” Brad begged.
“...Fine! Fine, he can have one! Just make him stop!”
“I heard yelling!” Janet ran into the aisle.
Columbia crossed her arms. “Well, no shit.”
“Here, Rocky, you can have it.” Brad timidly offered Rocky a chocolate bar, as if he was afraid of him. Rocky instantly stopped yelling and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
The relief was short-lived as Frank took it back. “...But we have to pay for it first.”
Rocky instantly started screaming again. Columbia covered her ears. “SHIT!”
“GODDAMMIT FRANK, YOU COULDN'T HAVE LET HIM HOLD IT?!” Brad yelled, taking it back and returning it to Rocky.
“But he can't eat it yet!”
“HE KNOWS THAT!”
“It's okay, Rocky…” Janet said softly, kneeling down to him. “You can hold it.”
“You all sicken me.” Frank scoffed. “I'm finding some actual food for him.”
“I'll go too. To make sure he actually buys food.” Brad announced, walking off behind Frank.
“He almost drank Windex.” Janet explained softly.
“...Sometimes I wonder what I see in him.” Columbia confessed, picking up one of the chocolates from the floor and putting it back on the shelf.
“Sometimes I wonder what Brad sees in him.”
Columbia gasped. “You mean-”
Janet sighed, clutching the sleeve of her dress like it could protect her. “I have a feeling.”
“It's not just him.” Columbia reassured her. “He's a good guy… Frank just does that sort of thing to people.”
“I still feel ashamed he did it to me…”
Columbia smirked, glancing between Janet and Rocky. “He's not the only one.”
“I- I was in the moment! I was stressed, and he- oh… oh, I'm terrible, aren't I?” Janet looked down shamefully.
“Not in this castle, you aren't.” Columbia rested a gentle hand on Janet’s shoulder, and they shared a smile for a few moments before Columbia suddenly broke off. “Come on, let's get the boys. I don't think Magenta will appreciate trying to cook with whatever Frank assumes is food.”
“We could just go out to eat.” Janet agreed.
“Then let's go.”
“Wait.” Janet stopped her to grab a bottle of wine. She hesitated and grabbed two.
“Two? Damn, Weiss, you have no shame.”
“Shut up. Something tells me we're gonna need them.” Janet snapped, handing Columbia a bottle and helping Rocky off the ground. They were about to head out of the aisle when a security guard approached them.
“Is one of you… er… Columbia? Am I reading that right?” He asked.
“Yes.” Columbia stepped forward.
“Your friend is outside. And… Janet, I presume? So is your fiance.” He said promptly. As he walked away, Janet heard him mumble “Fucking weirdos”.
“I wonder what they did to get kicked out?” Janet asked worriedly.
“Knowing Frank? I'm surprised it took him this long to get kicked out. But Brad?” Columbia scoffed.
The two walked cautiously to the front with Rocky in tow, and found Frank standing there angrily, ranting to Brad.
“And I didn’t even do anything wrong! It's their fault for making the robot so stupid.” Frank scoffed.
“Exactly! Plus, if they didn't want it to be punchable-”
“What did you do?” Janet asked angrily.
“Um… listen, Janet-” Brad started.
“He punched the storekeeper robot thing.” Frank smirked.
“HE WHAT?!” Janet shrieked. Columbia just sighed and opened the wine- which they had not paid for- and took a long drink of it.
“It wouldn't move so Frank could get the bread!” Brad protested. “And it kept beeping.”
“I already called Magenta from the phone in the store.” Frank sighed. “She is on her way.”
“CORRECTION, SHE'S ALREADY HERE!” Magenta yelled from the car, driving up to the curb. “Get in, before we get in more trouble.”
Everyone nodded and promptly got in the car, not even buckling in before Magenta sped off.
Brad gasped when he saw what Columbia was holding. “Did you pay for that wine?!”
“Nope.” Columbia smirked, offering some to Janet. Janet wordlessly took it and downed half the bottle, while Columbia turned to Magenta. “Can you take us to McDonald’s, please?”
“Can-” Frank protested.
“Rocky can eat it.” Columbia snapped back.
Magenta sighed. “You owe me,” she scoffed as she turned the car around.
“Thank you.” Columbia smiled back.
...
“Rocky, no, the toy isn't food.” Frank scolded, taking the small Hello Kitty toy away from him.
“Why do they put those in the boxes?” Magenta asked, taking a sip of her coffee. “Also, this coffee is shit.”
“That's kinda the point of the place.” Brad sighed. “Rocky, no, don't eat the- you eat the chicken nuggets! These things!”
“I'll take them if he doesn't want them.” Columbia smirked, eating her own and taking a sip of her Dr. Pepper.
“Eat your own food.” Frank replied, hesitantly taking a bite of his hot fudge sundae.
“Says the one who's barely eaten anything.”
“I'm surprised they let us bring the alcohol in here.” Janet added.
“I worked here when I was sixteen. They don't pay you enough to care.” Columbia explained.
“Thanks for paying for all this, Brad.” Janet smiled.
“Wait, I paid for this? I thought Columbia did!” Brad sat up.
“I did! With your credit card.” Columbia laughed, passing the card back. “You can have this back- I doubt it'll be very useful after this, though.”
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fourleafclovxr · 6 months ago
Text
8: hewn
Only one teacher is allowed into the Theatre of Tales, the night before the Circus of Talents. The rest are locked in their rooms, doors spelled shut with a magic far older and more powerful than their own, for all the Dean of Good might try.
But August Sader walks unrestricted in the School; Rafal could not keep him trapped if he tried. Not that he would try. There’s an old analogy about two birds. One that has every luxury in the world, but is kept in a locked cage. Another that has nothing, except for its freedom to come and go as it pleases. The first will fly away as soon as it is able. The second will always come back home.
August is still unsure of which, exactly, Rafal sees him as. Or which he is.
Rafal must know that, in the end, they are not on the same side.
But he is kind to August, or if not kind, at least lenient with him in ways no one else is afforded. Of all his colleagues August alone is allowed the privilege of freely coming and going wherever he desires. He can go home, meet his brothers, meet their children— if they want to see him. He can visit his sister and her twins, Rafal’s twins— if she lets him. Most of the time she doesn’t. The last time he saw Rhian and Japeth was their eighth birthday, the year before Evelyn sent them off to Arbed House.
A lot of the freedoms Rafal allows him are not freedoms at all, really. August would not leave the School if he could help it. He likes it here, really, likes that he’s familiar with the winding steps and the ever-alike classrooms and the intersecting hallways, likes that he knows his way around.
More than that, this is his duty. This School; this post.
And this man, just a man, who knows full well August would never believe his mystique. The School Master is sparing with his name, but he’d given it to August freely: Rafal, or, as I was known before, Rhian. Call me Rafal. My dear brother was wrong about me. He’s dead, now.
August, who had written and animated his first draft of the Student’s History of the Woods about Rafal and Rhian, or the other way around— then promptly burned it— had only nodded. Rafal’s mask had glinted, a blur of silver in August’s vision. I look forward to working with you, my Seer, he’d said.
My Seer. Rafal has always treated him like a possession, a prize. Has always been so proud that August chose to come to him. It is something that is easy to resent.
And yet August chooses to come to him, even now. Chooses to sit and listen patiently as Rafal enchants wooden likenesses of dying princes, on the other side of the Theatre for Tales. He’s spelled them to die with choked-off screams and feeble declarations of Good, though August isn’t sure how they’re dying exactly. It would be disturbing, if they weren’t in a School quite literally raising children to kill each other in their fourth year.
August has been dreaming of these things for years. Before he knew what they were.
He’s been dreaming of Rafal for longer. He knows all this already.
One last scream, and the room drifts mercifully into silence. Rafal turns, his boots clicking neatly on the floor as he makes his way back to the Good side of the theatre, cape sweeping over the floor with more flair than ever necessary.
He comes to a stop in front of August; offers his arm, fingers brushing August’s shoulder. There is not much August can do other than take it, gripping his cane firmly as Rafal pulls him to his feet. Rafal’s hands are, as always, ice-cold.
“You never have anything to say,” Rafal says lightly, half-complaining. “Perhaps this is the year my art finally gets through to you.”
“Our dearly beloved School Master,” August says, acerbic. “An artist. Perhaps you should pursue that, instead.”
“I could say the same about you, my dearly beloved Seer,” Rafal laughs. He seems happy to have gotten a rise out of August at all.
They pause just in front of the wall. August brushes his fingers over the carvings with a gentle touch; the carved knights cough and cry as he does. It’s good workmanship. Rafal has had a hundred years to improve on it, after all. But it’s not a very pleasant experience.
He says as much. “It’s not supposed to be,” Rafal replies, “they’re Evil.” He guides August to a carving of… some monster, or another, one that roars under his touch, spitting a burst of burning sparks. August tugs his hand back reproachfully. Rafal laughs, again.
“I’ll enchant something nicer for Good,” he promises. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Our first Good Seer in generations. Our first Seer with any sort of allegiance.” His voice strays dark as he completes the thought.
“You know very well why I have an allegiance,” August says mildly. It’s his duty; to kill Rafal. There is only one way this story ends.
“We could have been such good friends,” Rafal sighs. “You and I. But then I suppose we would have no reason to be.” He hooks his arm through August’s once again. They play at closeness, the two of them. Or Rafal does, at any rate.
They move to the crystal freizes, on Good’s side of the Theatre. They must be lovely, like everything to do with Good is. The stained glass is pleasantly cool under August’s fingers; he makes out the outline of a rose in bloom.
“I’m thinking of having them bloom as the students enter,” Rafal says idly. “No monsters here.”
“You just resent that Good keeps winning,” August sighs.
“I do,” Rafal admits openly. He has nothing to hide from August. He could not, either way. “There are more carvings, lower down, if you care for them.”
August nudges at the base of the wall with his cane, curious; he kneels to feel the raised patterns. Textured feathers. There, a wing, another. Borne in flight.
“Swans,” Rafal provides. Of course. He’s more predictable than he thinks.
August moves his cane along the wall, then starts walking back towards the other side, cane knocking against the continuous loop of carvings. Twin swans hewn all around the Theatre. A reminder of a promise unfulfilled.
Rafal doesn’t usually care so much.
But, of course, this Circus is special.
“This will be the tale to end all tales,” the School Master says, almost to himself. “Won’t it, August?”
“I don’t take questions,” August says.
“This is what you’re here for, after all,” Rafal continues, as if August had never spoken at all. “What role are you going to play, I wonder? Will we have to be enemies?”
This is the second to last time they will ever meet each other. August has spent years knowing Rafal, years with the idea of him— the shadow of him— living in his head. It was never going to amount to anything more than this.
Will he fly free, out of this gilded cage? Or has he sworn himself to Rafal, and his tale, and his end? You go on, no matter the cost. Seers don’t speak of costs, they only speak of duty.
Either way, both of them are trapped.
“You know,” Rafal says. Almost wistful. “You know, if I had the chance, I would want it to be you.”
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0perfectimperfections0 · 8 months ago
Text
The Grass on the Other Side: Part 3
"I hate everything about this idea."
Lucky stayed quiet, silently agreeing with Lou on that regard as he looked up worriedly. Moxy was on Babo's shoulders, holding her arms out to balance them as they wobbled closer to the cliffside.
"Bah, you're just being a stick in the mud! C'mon, got any better ideas?" Moxy challenged.
The blond rolled his eyes. "Multiple. Let's see," he held out a finger for each idea as he listed them off, "Lefty, the weird flying thing-"
"His name's Peggy!"
She was promptly ignored. "A ladder, literally anything else..." Lou rolled his eyes back up to Moxy. "Need I go on?"
"Lefty and Peggy won't help us, okay? I know they won't. So no point in asking."
"Why not? You're all friends here, right?"
Moxy pursed her lips, looking up at the flower as she held onto Babo's shoulders. It was still a ways up there. "We are...But this is different. They don't believe the Big World exists." Lou opened his mouth to question her further on that, but she interrupted him. "Come on, you wanna get up there or not?"
Lou sighed, arms crossed as he looked up at Moxy. She was urging him to climb up onto her shoulders in some sort of balancing act, but Lou didn't know how well that would work out. He'd already fallen on the ground once today. He looked down at Lucky, who was standing beside him observantly. "Can't you fly?"
Lucky went a little sheepish at that, quirking a smile as he averted his gaze to the ground. "Ah...I'm...working on it..."
The Pretty Doll rolled his eyes and begrudgingly walked toward the Tower of Dolls. "This better work..." he mumbled under his breath. Babo interlaced his hands and boosted Lou up. Moxy grabbed his arms and pushed him the rest of the way, holding onto his feet as he precariously flailed in the air. Babo had to side-step a few paces to keep his balance as they swayed. Lucky grit his teeth together just watching it.
"Afraid of heights?" Moxy sneered up at him as he froze, trying to steady them, arms held out stiffly.
Lou grounded his teeth together, glaring down at her. "No, I'm just allergic to dying."
Moxy huffed, squinting one eye as Lou finally situated himself on her shoulders. She held tightly onto his ankles and Babo carefully walked closer to the pipe. "Is everyone a drama queen where you're from?"
Lou didn't dignify that question with an answer. He looked up at they teetered beneath the pipe...which was still a good ten feet above them. "I still can't reach it."
Moxy hummed. "We need more dolls."
The blond refrained from face-palming, lest they lose their balance. "Seriously? That's your plan? Why can't we just use a ladder? Don't you have any of those around here? Or build something?"
"We can't do that. We'll get in trouble." Moxy said, surprisingly serious in her tone and expression.
"Why would you get in trouble?"
"Because-"
"Lou?" Someone spoke up below them.
They all froze, Lucky included, and turned to see Ox staring at them with a wide eye. Lou, most of all, was struck speechless as he and Ox made eye contact. Babo finally lost his balance from whipping his head around so fast and the three of them came crashing down in a fit of yelps and screams.
Lou found himself on his back for the second time that day. And, again, a shadow blocked his vision. Except this time it was green. "Ox? What-"
"You must be Lou," Ox quickly interrupted him. "I saw you in the newspaper. Word travels fast around here." The bunny held out a hand to Lou once he sat up from the ground. "Name's Ox."
Lou blinked at the bunny, looking between his face and the outstretched hand. "I know who you are."
This caught Moxy's attention. She dusted herself off from her own fall. "You do? How?"
Ox interrupted before he could answer. "We've never met before. I'd remember you. You musta hit your head pretty hard landin' here."
What in the world was going on? Did Ox seriously not remember him? But he had said his name... "What are you talking about?" Lou swatted the outstretched hand away and stood up. "You know me, Ox. We met at-"
"Lucky, can you go back to your place and get your aid kit? Fella's hit his head pretty bad on that landin'. He's a little delusional." Lucky looked curiously between the two of them, but nodded and hurried off. Ox gave Lou a gentle pat on the arm, which was brushed off just as fast by Lou. "Don't worry, we'll get ya fixed up and better in no time."
Ox then turned his attention to Moxy and Babo. "And don't think I forgot what ya'll just tried to pull off. That little stunt coulda hurt someone, ya hear? Go on to the boat race, you two. No more messin' around the flower."
Babo took a step back to comply, but Moxy wasn't having it. "Ox, he said he's from a different place! He said the Big World is real!"
"Yeah? Well, it ain't. You thought the Big World was real, too. Still do, and you ain't got no proof. He don't either."
"But Ox-"
"Go on, Moxy, I ain't gonna repeat myself."
She still looked incredibly frustrated and determined, but closed her mouth and huffed before walking off. Babo sent a worried look between Lou and Ox before following her.
The second they were gone, Lou shot a glare down at the bunny. "What the heck? You leave for 7 years and suddenly pretend to not know me?"
Ox would have been touched that Lou knew exactly how long it had been, if not for the circumstances. He fixed Lou with a steady look. "You shouldn't be here."
Lou blinked at the cold tone. "That's all you have to say to me after all these years?"
"That's all you had to say to me before you led me toward the recycle?"
Lou's eyes hardened, hands clenching into fists. "I was trying to save you-"
"Good job," Ox bit back sarcastically.
"You've been alive all these years and never told me? Never came back through the pipes?" If Ox didn't know any better, he'd say that Lou actually sounded hurt. "I thought you were dead."
"I wasn't wanted in that Institute. Least I could do was stay outta your hair. 'Sides, didn't think you'd wanna see me, anyway."
Lou has a million things to say to this rabbit, but his eyes glance behind Ox to where Moxy and Babo had vanished off to. "Why does this whole town think the Big World isn't real? Why have you been lying to them?"
"I did what I had to." Ox kept his voice low, as if even admitting the truth out loud was too risky even with no one around. "If they thought there was somethin' better than this out there, they'd up in my situation; tossed out. I don't want them knowin' they're rejects."
"So you blocked the way to recycle, built a whole town right next door, and convinced all your little rejects that the Big World doesn't exist? Do you understand how crazy and ridiculous that sounds?"
Ox glared up at Lou, speaking through clenched teeth. "We ain't bothered y'all in seven years. Don't act like your little perfect agenda is ruined just 'cause you know about us."
Lou scoffed at that, eyes rolling. "It's going to be if you don't get a handle on some of your sock puppets. Moxy doesn't seem to believe your little story."
"Well, now that ya told her about the Big World what am I supposed to do?" Ox was growing increasingly frustrated now. Everything was going so smoothly to keep the dolls in the dark about life outside of Uglyville and then this blond comes stumbling back into the picture and ruining everything. Moxy would never let him hear the end of it now.
"Tell her the truth."
Ox scoffed this time, shaking his head. "That's funny."
"I wasn't joking." Lou crossed his arms, nodding in the general direction of the town. "Tell all of them the truth. Tell them they're rejects and that the Big World is real, but they'll never be able to go. I think Moxy would stop trying so hard if she knew she would be wasting her time."
"And how would that make me look, huh? If they suddenly find out, after all these years, that I'd been lyin' to them?"
"Maybe you should've thought about that before lying to them." Lou was dead serious about this and Ox could tell that he was in a rock and a hard place now. Lou had to leave.
"Go back to the Institute. I'll have Lefty hoist ya up there." Ox made to turn around to do that, but Lou gave an incredulous laugh.
"Oh, no, Bunny." Lou smirked, unfolding his arms and squinting at Ox in wry amusement. "If you won't tell them then I will. My Institute is on the line with this little fib of yours."
Ox bristled, whipping around fast to glare at Lou. "You ain't tellin' them anything. Now stay put. You're goin' back where you belong."
Lou straightened at the challenge, a dangerous look in his eyes that made Ox stiffen. The blond clenched his jaw and walked past Ox. "Try and stop me."
"Lou, don't you even think about it! I'm serious!" Ox started to hurry after Lou. Stupid long-legged Pretty Doll.
Lou didn't bother looking behind him. "Maybe I just want to see more of your town. Is that so wrong?" When Ox finally fell into step beside him, he gave the bunny an innocent look.
"That's a lie and we both know it," Ox grumbled.
Lou raised an eyebrow down at him, arms folding behind his back. "Maybe not. But I know what is a lie...and this whole town is gonna know about it. You said word travels fast, right?"
Ox's eye widened and he slowed to a stop as Lou kept walking. He swallowed nervously. If the town found out about his secret...would they turn on him? Would they get mad and revolt? He had to do something to stop Lou. Anything. Would bribery even work?
Ox's mind ran a mile a minute to try and figure out a solution.
"Wait."
Lou stopped, not turning to look at Ox just yet. He tilted his head slightly to the side, seeing the blurry image of the bunny from the corner of his eye. He raised a brow, waiting for Ox to continue.
Ox took in a shaky breath, mind spinning. "Let's make a deal."
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black-cat-charm · 2 years ago
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Streamer Au
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"JACK, YOU FUCKIN WHORE" Merida shouted, Jack cackling from her screen. He ran off after killing her and taking all her loot, Minecraft of course. "I DIDN'T HAVE MY SPAWN POINT SET, YA DAMN RAT" Jack shrugged and looked at her through their Discord video call. "Sucks to suck I guess" he grinned as Hiccup walked back into his room, appearing in everyone's camera. "Guys look at what I found" he sat down again with a smile, a green frog hat on his head. Rapunzel paused from decorating her house and smiled. "When did you get that?" Hiccup grinned, showing off his familiar tooth gap as he put his headphones back on. "When I visited Jack in Pennsylvania, I kinda lost it after I moved out of my dad's house though" Merida checked the time. While it was 1:18pm for Jack, it was 7:18pm for her and Hiccup and 6:18pm for Rapunzel, so she knew they wouldn't be on for much longer. "Hiccup, tell ya fuckin boyfriend to give me my shit back!" She quickly spat out before she got distracted, Jack flipping her off playfully. Hiccup rolled his eyes and smiled, looking at Jack on their call. "Jack, stop being a dick" "nope! she can stop being a puss and come get it herself" he grinned and laughed as he saw merida's cheeks slightly redden with anger. "Jack you damn asshole, just wait till I get to American!" Rapunzel laughed lightly, putting her face in her hands, the half of her blonde hair that wasnt shaven short falling beside her face before she lifted her head slowly. "Why is everyone suddenly some kind of genital?!" Merida couldn't help but smile a bit. "We're speed running our twitch bans!" she joked, Jack leaning back in his seat as he laughed. Before promptly falling back with a small scream and his headphones falling off his head, along with unplugging from his computer. The group, especially Merida, bursted out in laughter, Hiccup hiding his face in his hands to hide his laughter. "Are- are you okay?!" He asked between laughs, watching Jack slowly get up, laughing at his own mistake. He nodded and leaned on his desk for a second before lifting his chair back up. "I'm fine, I'm fine!" he listened to his dad, North, hit the roof/second story floor as a way to tell Jack he needed to quiet down. Jack took a deep breath and sat down again, fixing his headphones. "Im blaming Merida for that" he teased, Merida laughing and throwing her hands up as she looked around in confusion. "MEE? Punzie brought up genitals, Snowflake!" Jack took a breath to keep himself from laughing as he held up a finger to the screen. "Only Hiccup is allowed to call me that, he is my exception to that damn nickname!" Hiccup smiled proudly while his and Jack's chats have the usual 'awes' and what not. Merida rolled her eyes playfully. "Gay ass mother fuckers" as she took a sip of her water, Hiccup chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "Your girlfriend is literally in this call?" Merida paused for a second and looked at her screen. "ShhhhhhUT the fuck up" She smiled at him before resuming her game as Hiccup laughed in confusion. "Rapunzel, your girlfriend is a bully" Rapunzel laughed lightly and hummed as she decorated her house with flowers. "I know, but I love herrr" Similarly to Jack and Hiccup's chats, the girls' chats also filled with 'awes' and compliments on how cute the two where together. The gaming and goofing around went on for another two hours before Hiccup, Rapunzel, and Merida all said goodbye so they could eat dinner and go to bed, leaving Jack to stream for another hour before ending his own stream. He texted his friends goodnight since he knew they were laying down by then before heading downstairs for lunch. They made the timezones work, even if it was just as chaotic as their friendship.
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send-noodles-not-nudes · 16 days ago
Text
a collection of my favorite ikykbhd bits (without context)
He (Shawn) looked like a toddler that had just been told they couldn't have ice cream for breakfast.
"I will shave your head. Don't test me, puto," she grumbled. Shawn very promptly removed his arm, playing it off like he'd been stretching, a hand stopping to protectively smooth out his hair - he knew that Spenser well meant what she said.
(upon learning spenser is a nurse) "So, what? You just sit around giving people sponge baths all day?" "...No, you have to be admitted for that; it's not ED work. And even then, it's not usually the RNs who do that; it's CNAs." "You said 'usually'. So there's still a chance that you give people sponge baths all day?" (from shawn, ten seconds away from jumping on lassiter and beating him) "what, are you trying to make a friggin' appointment?!"
"what? butt, what? her butt? ...👀"
shawn spending 83 minutes on his hair every day
'once they had the opportunity to actually get to know her, nearly all of them managed to forgive her for being shawns sister'
"ok, seriously, what is it with you and the damn sponge baths?" "you always smell like shampoo. like you just came from a sponge bath."
*gets caught staring, literally jumps when the person being stared at moves* "should i have issued a warning before i stood up? i could feel you staring, but i didnt think it was that... intense." *trying so fucking hard not to make himself look like an idiot and failing* "what can i say? i dont half-ass anything"
lassiter walking into a wall bc hes preoccupied with spenser
spenser almost walking into a wall bc shes preoccupied with lassiter being preoccupied with her
'she seemed to be stuck cycling through three of the five stages of grief (she refused to bargain with or accept what she'd seen, sticking to just anger, depression, and denial)'
"hey, Sponge Bath Spencer! fancy seeing you here." "he calls you sponge bath?" from onyx, spenser's best friend "...it's a long story." "i mean, i get that there's that whole stereotype of enbies naming ourselves after nouns and all—and im really not one to talk, i picked a rock and a month for my name and i love it—but sponge bath?"
(as soon as onyx meets lassiter) "oh! so you must be Salt And Stupid!"
spenser: i hate you both. zenith, who has no context: im sorry?! what did i do? onyx, ignoring their bf: thats ok. i hate you, too. especially for not telling me you had a CRUSH! spenser: I DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON HIM! Jesus Christ onyx, are you trying to get me to stab you? zenith, trying to figure out wtf is going on: IM SORRY?! onyx, still actively ignoring their bf: do it, ya fuckin coward zenith, having effectively forgotten all other words in the english language: IM SORRY?! spenser, stabbing onyx with a fork: zenith, screaming: onyx: that all you got, tough guy?
"whats the big deal? so, he likes picking on your baby brother. call it date night and capitalize on it, damn."
"my paladins are all oath of vengeance, spenser, you know how i feel about revenge! i had to say yes!"
"for as much as i love encouraging you to do stupid shit, this aint it"
"actually, i do have something else to say. youre an idiot."
just onyx in general; the last 4 quotes were all from them
"i saw dead people!" "spencer? did you just break in (to a police station) to—incorrectly, might i add—quote a movie line to me?" "no, dumbass, i broke in to report a crime." "...YOU JUST COMMITTED ONE!"
"what are you gonna do, arrest me?" *has a lightbulb moment* "actually... yeah. i think i will."
thats not the last time they have that conversation.
"anything you say can and will be held against you in a c-" "then i'll make sure not to address you by your name, Salt And Stupid."
"ah! ¡Dios mío, i hate you! shit!" "that seems a bit extreme. was a simple 'thank you' really too much to hope for?"
'in a moment of weakness what he would later call temporary insanity,'
'she felt a bit as if she were talking to a brick wall, but the wall had hands that would occasionally scribble something down on the little notepad it carried with it'
"i might be dumb, but im not stupid."
spenser, after onyx says they wont bail her out: i am so hate criming you when i get out of here! lassiter, who arrested her to begin with: you do realize that theres a cop standing next to you, right? spenser: what are you gonna do, arrest me? lassiter, with no hesitation: do you need me to handcuff you? onyx, who was spensers one phone call: sOUNDS KINKY, LOVE YOU, BYE! *hangs up*
spenser threatening to give sbpd a bad yelp review after getting arrested by lassiter the first time
lassiter on shawn: kid's tiny, hes a punk, and the only time i have ever felt threatened by him was when he was 'protecting' his sister. if im gonna die in a stupid way, i refuse to let it be via murder by spencer.
lassiters entire confession conversation with jules in general. hes so whipped and shes so eager to hear the tea.
"shut your facevoid" and "im stronger than i look, i know how to make a shiv quickly, and i can name all your major blood vessels backwards by alphabetical order."
spenser having to depend on gus for bail money when onyx wont show up and shawn giving her the most awkward look when he finds out (bc he wasnt expecting her to be there when they got to the station) and spenser just "shawn. please tell me you look like a kicked puppy because you let out a particularly nasty fart and not because you stole gus' wallet." "no can do, spense. i actually took some beano before taco bell today." "oh, my God... it's kinda sad that i have a harder time believing that you took beano than believing that you stole your best friend's wallet. remind me again why i moved back here for you?"
shawn finding out that his sister and best friend play dnd without him and have been doing so since the 90s and not having a retort to it when spenser says "look me in the eyes and tell me you wouldnt be the most pain-in-the-ass, backseat dming, metagaming bastard ive ever met" bc yeah no thats exactly what would happen
"ok, i know why im on the floor, and i know why i have the single worst headache ive ever had in my life, but why am i wet?" and no, thats not about a hangover
"...a corner of hell that i wouldnt even put you in." "and what corner is that? the ninth circle of kindergarten nap time?"
the oc you see exactly once before his untimely death, gary the sleepy cop
'butterfly-shaped stomachache'
lassiters thoughts upon driving spenser to the er and being invited to leave: 'He didn't want to make it seem like he was actually concerned for her. No, this was just... the responsible thing to do, wasn't it? Sure, he would do this for anyone in her situation. He couldn't possibly be concerned for her. Like he'd told Juliet just a day earlier, this was nothing but a stupid crush, and he would get over it.'
spenser knowing that lassiter calls her by her last name despite the fact that she cant hear the difference between spenser and spencer
"...can i just pretend i have no idea whos talking because i cant see him? i have no idea who you are. get out of my (hospital) room, shawn."
naming a character sherman williams purely for the excuse to have lassiter call him sherwin-williams and have shermin mutter about how hes "not a goddamn paint company"
lassiter literally watching spenser be a medium for a dead person that he knows and still refusing to admit shes psychic
"and you would really arrest me for hate criming this one?" *nods* "you are a terrible human being. if im getting arrested again, anyways, im hate criming you, too." "thats nice, spencer. im intrigued to see how you plan on doing that from a hospital bed." "i have my ways."
"im going to bed. goodnight-" "it's 645 in the morning, shawn."
'Is this it? Is this how I end? In a damn supply closet? Lame.'
using light-up sketchers as a device to create romantic tension between two characters
you read that right.
"hey, spencer! i think you dropped something!" "what?" "my heart." "do i look like a janitor? im not picking that shit up!"
lassiter not believing that spenser is psychic but believing that onyx is omniscient
onyx wanting to tell people things but not being able to bc "then the time police will take me out like the animal i am, and i would miss you idiots."
shawn getting into a heated argument with lassiter about spenser and being mad that he has to look up at lassiter while hes lecturing him, so he tells gus to go get a chair and proceeds to lecture lassiter while standing on the chair for like a solid five minutes (then forgets hes standing on it and falls on his way to storm out of the room)
also while hes on the chair, hes swapping between lecturing lassiter and spensers then-girlfriend and flings his arm out to the appropriate side to look between the two of them
"listen, Detective, if you think you can just buy my love back with a free pineapple smoothie-... youre probably right. but, youre wrong if you think itll work more than about... 20... times."
"youre just so-" cutting himself off, realizing what hes about to say, "it's cute spencer. thats all."
"spencer, you never think straight. youre bisexual." "...did you just make a gay joke?" *fighting the urge to say 'no, but my mom did'*
spenser and onyx texting each other "<3" but with threatening undertones
spenser getting arrested by mcnab while at lunch with lassiter for bullshit that happened in the last chapter (long story but it's actually serious bullshit this time) and stopping to make mcnab take a $20 out of her wallet to pay for lunch bc shes too stubborn to let lassiter do it
lassiter being too dumbfounded when it happens to reverse pickpocket her until shes getting taken back to the station and all he can say is "spencer, you cant be serious!" "you can pay for the tip, then, since youre so set on contributing! what are you gonna do, Detective? ...arrest me?"
that being the moment he decides hes gonna get the fucker whos trying to frame her bc he heard the waver in her voice
"what can i do to help?" "dont fucking tell the court that you dont think spensers a psychic." "perjury is a federal crime."
"why is it that youre only a halfway decent detective when im trying to lie to you, Detective?"
theres more but this is long so i'll leave the rest of ikykbhd3 out. just know that i fucking love this series.
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bitbybitwrites · 1 year ago
Note
For the au + trope + prompt game maybe:
12. babysitter!au + 4. meet messy + 27. “that was a very bad idea. 0/10 would not recommend.”
But no pressure!
OK, in true fashion, this one totally got away from me. I can't even try to pass it off as a super long drabble. It's mutated into a full blown ficlet. Ooooops.
But I guess the combination got me inspired. I kind of went literal for the meet messy trope - maybe it works? 😂
Anyway, here's 1,366 words for you, @annepi-blog
******
The last thing Blaine Anderson expected that night while delivering pizzas was to meet the love of his life. 
He wasn’t expecting too much, to be honest.  Most of his shift had gone as usual.  But his final job for the evening found Blaine with his arms filled with a rather impressive food order when he knocked on the door to a swanky Upper West Side apartment building.  
“B Side Pizza,” he announced loudly, though the apartment owner should have been aware of who he was.  The imposing doorman in the lobby had called up to warn them.
The muffled sound of high-pitched shrieking, which then quickly changed to an ear-splitting loud high-pitched shrieking, assailed Blaine once the door was opened.  Behind the other side of the door was a very exhausted-looking but ridiculously handsome man.  His chestnut hair fell heavily over one eyebrow, apparently fallen out of some formerly impressive style that Blaine could kind of see the echos of.  His clothes seemed on trend but were very rumpled, and Blaine thought he could spy a small handprint in neon green paint that grazed the right hip of some extremely tight skinny jeans.  A smudge of the same paint was also on his chin.  He doubted the man was even aware.
Blaine was in trouble.  
One look at this man and Blaine was positive that he was in love.
“Thank god,” the disheveled angel said when he saw Blaine.  “Pizza is here!” he yelled over his shoulder.
“Pizza!”  A group of younger voices screamed in excitement.  Apparently, the prospect of food was enough to stop the rest of the caterwauling.
The man ushered Blaine into a lavish apartment, directing  Blaine towards a kitchen that could have been plucked right out of Architectural Digest.  It was gorgeous to look at (not unlike the homeowner), but Blaine doubted it ever had any use.
“You can put everything out here.” The man waved his hand at a long marble-covered counter. Blaine nodded and began unpacking his delivery tote as he watched the man dash out into another part of the apartment and shout: 
“Barbra!”
“Joan!”
“Streisand!”
“Yes, Uncle Kurt?” A trio of childish voices replied in a sing-song fashion.
Kurt sighed loudly. “Can you please clean up your mess, wash your hands, and come sit down to dinner. . .please?” the desperation in Kurt’s voice was so very clear.
“That’s two pleases, Uncle Kurt.” 
“That’s me asking really, really, really nicely, Streisand.“ Kurt said back, a forced smile on his face, his voice sounding strained.  “I ordered dinner from your favorite place, just like your parents told me to.  Let’s get going, ok?”
Kurt returned to the room, where he promptly collapsed into one of the kitchen chairs surrounding the table and dropped his head into his folded arms.  “I am never doing this again.” Blaine could sort of make out.  Kurt’s voice was very muffled.  “Or at least not without reinforcements.”
Blaine’s eyes softened.  “Babysitting duties?” he asked.
Kurt raised his head and sighed.  “This is seriously giving me doubts about my capability to be a father in the future.
Blaine laughed at Kurt’s forlorn expression.  “I’m sorry.  I felt the same way once I started watching my brother’s kids.  Don’t worry, you’ll get the hang of it. I promise it gets loads better.”
“Triplets.  My best friend had triplets, and I am nothing if not a pushover.” Kurt moaned.
A heartbreaking wail - or maybe it was another screech, Blaine wasn’t exactly sure, came from one of the other rooms.  Kurt’s face dropped into an expression of utter horror and disbelief as three young children came barreling into the kitchen, covered head to toe in smears of neon pink, green, and yellow paint.  One of the little girls had her hair covered in the paint, and she apparently was the one wailing the loudest.  Her eyes were screwed shut as she blindly flailed her arms, sobbing, and crashed face-first into Blaine.
“Uncle Kurt!  Streisand put paint in my hair!” The little girl continued to wail as she wrapped her arms around Blaine’s waist and buried her face into his stomach, subsequently smearing more paint all over him.
“Streisand!” Kurt cried out, whipping around to look at a not-so-apologetic 6-year-old boy who was still gripping a tube of neon pink paint.  Streisand looked almost ready to squeeze the remainder of the tube onto his other sister’s hair but second-guessed himself once he caught Kurt’s stern glare.  He dropped the tube like a hot potato and at least decided to look chagrined.
“Um, sorry, Uncle Kurt?”
Kurt continued giving the child a death glare.”That shouldn’t be a question, Streisand.  And I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”
“Sorry, Barbra,” Streisand said. “Really, really sorry.  But you do look pretty with pink hair. You said you wanted pink hair.”
Barbra hiccuped loudly as she wiped her face onto Blaine’s shirt. “I like pink, but I wanted to do it myself.” Barbra then pulled back, surprised: “Wait, you’re not Uncle Kurt.”
The other little girl looked at Blaine suspiciously.  “Who are you?  Are you Uncle Kurt’s boyfriend?”
“Uncle Kurt, you’re not supposed to bring boyfriends over. Mommy said so.” Streisand said.
Kurt turned beet red, and Blaine had to smile again at the absurdity of the whole situation.  “My name is Blaine.  I’m not Uncle Kurt’s boyfriend . . .”
“Do you want to be?  Do you like Uncle Kurt?” 
‘He’s cute.  I think he should be your boyfriend, Uncle Kurt.”
“He’s ok, Uncle Kurt. But if you like him, you should make him your boyfriend.”
Kurt groaned.  “OK.  No more talking about boyfriends or my lack thereof.  This was supposed to be a nice, calm, quiet evening. ‘Why don’t we do some finger painting?’ I said.  ‘It will be fun,’ I said.  Who was I kidding?“ Kurt parroted himself from earlier in the evening and then rolled his eyes as he looked back to Blaine.  “That was a very bad idea on my part.  0/10 would not recommend.”
Blaine chuckled.  “Well, the paint is very . . it is bright and festive and fun . . and um, if you had a black light - it would glow in the dark.”
“What?!” screeched Kurt.  “Where did you get that paint, Streisand?”
“Mommy and Daddy’s room. In the table by the bed.”
“Oh god,” Kurt mumbled.  “I don’t want to think about why they have that in their bedroom.”
Blaine snickered.  “Why don’t you get the kids cleaned up? I’ll keep the food warm in the oven for you.” he tossed Kurt a charming smile.  “Consider it an extra perk of the delivery process.”
“Thank you so, so much. “ Kurt gasped as he began dragging Streisand and Joan out of the kitchen by their arms.  “Barbra, come on.  Leave Mr. Blaine alone, and let’s get this paint out of your hair.”
Barbra followed reluctantly.  “Will you still be here when we come back?” she asked Blaine.
Blaine knew what he wanted to say, but he hated to intrude on their little evening.
“I don’t know.  I think it depends on your Uncle Kurt.” Blaine confessed.
“Uncle Kurt, pleeeeeeeeease can Mr. Blaine stay?” Barbra whined.
“Yeah, can he? Uncle Kurt, can he?” Joan chimed in.
“Stay. Stay. Stay. Stay.” Streisand began to chant loudly.
Kurt rolled his eyes.  “Yes, Mr. Blaine can stay.  We have to get him out of his clothes too.”
Blaine coughed and tried to suppress another laugh.  “Well, I usually get a first date before that. . .”
 Kurt sputtered and blushed again.  Blaine was beginning to find it totally adorable.   “I meant to change clothes,” Kurt tried to explain.  “Because paint . . and . . there’s a washer and dryer in the apartment . . oh and fuck  … I’m just going to go now before I say something else stupid.”
As Kurt pulled the two kids he had in hand down the hallway towards the bathroom, he could hear: “Ooooooh … you said a bad word, Uncle Kurt.”
A ton of giggling.
And then a small pink-haired covered face popped back into the kitchen doorway.
“So you’ll stay?” Barbra asked excitedly.
“I’ll stay. I promise.” Blaine told her.
Barbra squealed in joy and ran back down the hallway.
Oh yeah, Blaine was in so much trouble now.
*****
NOTE: If you haven't figured out yet, yes, these are Rachel's triplets😂
If anyone else wants to play - AU+Trope+Prompt Game.
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latenightgasstationwalk · 2 years ago
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Staving off a tide of violent urges as I process the various horrors I saw today. This job is becoming actually bad for my brain. Today I went to an apartment complex that I’ve already bitched about a few times, but today was my breaking point lol I was lead into the apartment by this Maintainance man, who promptly took off the second he knocked on the tenants door, they came to the door abs I couldn’t even process what I was seeing when the door swung open. One bedroom apartment, 5 people on the floor wrapped up in blankets and literal crack smoke in the air. A windowsill is stacked high with picked clean chicken bones? Roaches everywhere. as soon as I walked in one of the people in the apartment went up to this girl who was completely still on the couch and started violent shaking her screaming “WAKE UP HEY WAKE UP THERES PEOPLE HERE” and she was 110% unresponsive. The windows had been broken for about a year and just had a board put over them….on the inside. Here’s a fun fact: When you break a window and board it up from the inside, all of mother natures mighty feats of degradation of man made materials will ruin your sashes and window frame forever! At least that’s what happen when you leave busted windows up for a FUCKING YEAR WITH NOTHIN TO PROTECT THEM BOARDING THEM UP FROM THE INSIDE MAKES 0 SENSE
Just a week before when I went to measure the windows The aforementioned maintenance man insisted I measure these windows from the outside, because he “didn’t wana take thee boards down” so I was like “uh ok” I really didn’t see a problem at the time. So he very clearly didn’t want me to see the inside prior, for obvious reasons, so he had me do it from the outside so I’d show up and be blind sided. That was my working theory when this happened initially. Come to find out, my co-worker / best buddy already went and measured these 7 months ago and told them they were beyond repair and glass replacement wouldn’t even work at this point. So this guy Fucking knew what he was doing the entire time.
So when I got back to the shop and informed my boss of what happened she called and said she didn’t want to put her technicians in any danger so we wouldn’t be returning. This Fucking maintenance man told her that he was in there the whole time. Like I wish I took a picture of this mother fucker when I came outside of that actual nightmare, he was sitting on a picnic table smoking a cigarette, this guy bailed on me as fast as he could and went out for a lil smoke break while I tried by best to avoid any stray needles that may have found their way onto the carpet. Then tells my boss on the phone that he was in there with me lololololol sublime excellent wonderful amazing im this close to turning one of these mother fuckers into an example it’s not even funny.
Either way, my boss said she’s going to try to get permission from the big big bosses (we’re a small company owned by a multi-billion dollar company) and she said even if we do go back in the future we’re going to have ground rules that these maintenance blockheads have to follow the second they don’t were Fucking splitting.
Like I just can’t do this anymore, one of my clients at this job is a housing assistance program that provides housing for addicts and that’s like my main daily thing. And like I’m not looking down on anyone in that kind of position, I have addicts in my life and it’s terrible and sad, but I can’t help but not feel safe. Especially when the extent that the people who are supposed to be coordinating this Shit for me do is call me and warn me about the bad stuff lol I’m not accusing anyone of trying to steal my tools, but I’ve been told probably 10000 Fucking times by the same guy “not to leave any expensive tools around because the people in this unit have already stolen from several contractors” it’s like dude what the Fuck. I make $19 an hour I don’t get paid enough to fight off the most desperate people alive.
And this keeps happening every Fucking day because they’re putting me in charge of all the glazing jobs that the more senior glazer doesn’t want anymore lol so this is just my life for probably the next couple years. Trying not to get killed for the $10,000 worth of tools in my van or just the van in general. Like it’s really Fucking dumb. I’m sorry if I sound insensitive to the struggle of the people in these situations but I promise you anyone in my position would be incredibly frustrated and generally unhappy lol
Thanks for reading
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santaclausdeadindian · 1 year ago
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"I never saw anyone murdering people screaming Christ is king!"
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ok, so obvious first, you think she was alive during the Spanish Civil War?
Second, mean sure, the Franco regime was heavily leaning on the catholic church and yes, it was a very bloody conflict (would not say incredibly violent, or even extraordinarily violent, but that is besides the point), but first of all, it was a 99.99 catholic country, of course there would be stuff like that, but it was way more anti-socialist/communist, than anything else, not an interreligious conflict, like what muslims do all the time. So it is kinda stretches credulity, to say the falangists were deus vulting all over the place. Possibly against communists and other anti-clerical elements, but that would probably be it. It was not a secular conflict.
Third, this fucking bullshit:
Is Islamic terrorism more prevalent currently? Yes.
It was always like that. It is an extremely violent, aggressive, oppressive death-cult. It does push for violent measures on every other page. It sentences you even its followers to death over minor infractions, but it is horrifyingly brutal against all outsiders. Just fucking think for a second, why do you think muslims are allowed to have up to 4 wives? How the fuck do you think that works out, mathematically? They were from the get go incentivised and commanded to inflict violence on everyone else, to take women as (sex)slaves and to enslave or kill everyone else. It is also orders them to kill apostates, so no leaving it, to kill anyone who questions the lying, hypocrite paedo warlord's words, so no reforming it either. There are no other prophets to await for, he was the last. It is a death-cult by any definition and it fucking shows. do look up the death toll of the conquest and subjugation of India, there is no fucking comparison to any other religion, the Mongol Wars were less bloody for fucks sake!
It is so fucking tiring to having to keep telling people to just please look into the history and the very scripts of it.
Fourth, this other bullshit I am sick of.
Poorer countries with less education tend to be more violently religious.
Fuck off all the way to home with that!
After the Eastern Bloc collapsed, along with the shitty command economies, us here in the east fell into poverty so terrible, westerners have to travel to India or Africa to see shit like that. Guess what we did not became? Extremely violent. This poverty equals violence, religious or not, is an entirely western retardation, go and check out Nepal if you doubt me! There are plenty of poor as shit countries that have a fraction of the violence going on compared to some of the richest ones.
It is not in every culture, but it is in every single islamic country's, because islam replaced the cultures it conquered, there is merely regional variations of the same horrid medieval shit. You cannot name a single muslim country that doesn't have some seriously fucked up shit going on, because there isn't any.
The azeris got super rich on their oil and gas wealth, which they promptly invested into their military and now they are using it to invade and ethnically cleanse armenians from their lands, because oh, it was ours, sure, problem is, ANYWHERE muslims are, becomes part of the "ummah", the land of the muslims and they believe all lands will become ummah eventually because it is a supremacist cult hellbent on literal, actual world domination, nazi style.
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No fucking way LMFAO
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sleepwritten-dreams · 1 month ago
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"Exercising, and Mobsters On My Bed"
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I found myself running laps inside the house
not from ghosts or deadlines
but for the noble cause of shedding ten, maybe fifteen pounds.
My friends drifted around doorways like concerned librarians
whispering their disappointment
as if I'd just vowed to toss out all the good cheese.
Their silence was theatrical
like I'd offended an unspoken pact
to age gracefully with snacks.
The kitchen was a construction zone of broken promises.
Tiles half-laid, grout abandoned mid-thought
like the previous homeowners had gone out for caulk
and never returned.
I skipped around the uneven floor
feeling oddly athletic
for someone dodging a home improvement graveyard.
I paused at the window
where daylight draped itself across the glass like a sleepy cat.
Outside, ten trees stood in potted purgatory.
One was tropical, with drama in its leaves
clearly not from around here.
The others were spruce, stoic
patiently enduring their fate like polite guests
waiting for someone to offer them permanent soil.
I got the sense I'd promised them a home
then promptly forgotten
a metaphor that felt a little too on the nose.
Returning to the living room
I walked into a mob movie.
My bed had become a boardroom for suited men
arguing in hushed threats
as if HBO had set up shop in my personal sanctuary.
I froze.
This wasn’t in the floor plan.
And then I saw her
my Bearded Dragon, cornered
trapped between Italian leather shoes
and bad intentions.
Her little mouth opened
a scream only I could hear.
She ran to me
her claws tapping like impatient castanets
and hurled herself into my hands
like a lizard version of a dramatic faint.
She crawled up my arm, trembling.
That’s when I noticed
she was tiny
not just smaller
but weirdly fun-sized
like someone had left her in the dryer too long.
I held her close
partly relieved
partly wondering if I’d missed something vital
like feeding her
or perhaps months of emotional attention.
She stared at me like a disappointed aunt.
And suddenly
in a room full of mobsters and potted plants
I realized something deeper than any fitness goal
Maybe the remodeling wasn’t just in the kitchen
Maybe I had a few unfinished corners of my own.
🌙⭐ Interpretation ⭐🌙
Yes, this dream is surreal, humorous, and symbolically rich—layered with themes of self-image, unfinished personal growth, protection, and inner tension. Let’s break it down:
1. Running to Lose Weight
You begin by exercising with a clear goal—losing 10 to 15 pounds. This could be literal, but in dream language, it often symbolizes a desire to shed emotional weight, self-doubt, pressure, or expectations. The fact that your friends seem disappointed may reflect an inner conflict:
Are you changing something about yourself that others have grown comfortable with?
Are you afraid of losing something essential in the process of trying to “fix” yourself?
There’s a quiet suggestion here: what are you trying to lose, and why does it make others uneasy?
2. The Unfinished Kitchen Tiles
The kitchen is the heart of nourishment—emotional and physical. The unfinished remodeling speaks to areas of your life or identity that were started but never completed. This could relate to healing, self-work, creativity, or even domestic roles. You're running laps in a house that isn’t fully settled, which suggests you're moving through life while still mid-construction, still trying to figure things out beneath the surface.
3. Trees in Pots
The trees are a beautiful symbol—rooted things that haven’t yet been planted. Ten of them, all waiting. One tropical, the others spruce.
The tropical tree represents something rare or exotic in you—creative passion, emotional depth, or a part of your identity that doesn’t “fit” where it is now.
The spruce trees are steadier, protective, reliable. They may symbolize traditional roles or values, the parts of you that are grounded but still not fully rooted.
Altogether, they suggest growth that’s been paused—dreams, plans, or parts of your soul waiting for space to thrive.
4. Mobsters in the Bedroom
This is a stark, strange intrusion—symbols of threat, control, and power taking up space on your bed, which represents intimacy, rest, and emotional safety.
These mobsters could be:
Internalized stress, negative thoughts, or unhealthy coping mechanisms
Outside forces (family pressure, fear, judgment) disrupting your peace
Conflicting voices inside you, demanding or threatening your calm
You're not their target—but your safe space is compromised.
5. The Bearded Dragon
She’s small, vulnerable, and cornered—yet she recognizes you and runs to you with trust and urgency. She symbolizes:
A fragile part of you you’re afraid might be getting hurt in the chaos
A deep intuition, instinct, or inner truth seeking protection
Even your creativity or passion for life that’s been shrinking, neglected, or overlooked
Her being smaller than usual is powerful. It suggests that this part of you is still alive but diminished. She needs your attention. She needs you to remember her, care for her, claim her again.
Overall Message
This dream is a layered self-portrait of a woman in the middle of deep transformation. You’re:
Trying to change or lighten some part of yourself
Confronting what’s been left unfinished
Holding space for dreams you haven’t yet planted
Realizing that external chaos has crowded out parts of your soul that need safety, gentleness, and nurturing
And in the end, you’re being called back by the very part of yourself you’ve been too busy to notice.
It’s a dream of reckoning, humor, and reclamation.
Something sacred is still alive in you. It’s small now—but it remembers who you are.
(June 3rd 2018)
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asshlyyyy · 3 years ago
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Pregnancy (Elvis Headcanons)
Descriptions: Headcanons for how a relatively young Elvis would react to his significant other being pregnant with his child.
Author’s Note: I have nothing finished, so enjoy these headcanons that I just randomly wrote up. I’m hoping to have a one shot or even just a new chapter tomorrow. I am working on so many things at once... You have no idea. Also please... ELVIS IS SO CUTE LOOK AT HIM. LOOK AT MY BOY.
Note: ALL MY ELVIS WORK CAN BE IMAGINED WITH ELVIS OR AUSTIN!ELVIS
Warnings: Bad spelling or even some grammatical errors
Masterlist
My Requests are opened
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When you told Elvis you were pregnant he didn't know how to feel
He was obviously really scared
You two were very young...
You were only twenty and Elvis was Twenty-four
You remember the look in his eyes when the words fell off your tongue
He fell down on the couch and just froze
You didn't blame him, you didn't even know how to feel
It would take a couple of days before it really hit Elvis, and in a good way.
He would wake up and would be all over your stomach
He would want to hold onto it, rub it, talk to it, kiss it, everything really
It's because of his love for your unborn baby that makes you excited
He’s talking to your stomach at every moment he can
“I don’t think they have ears just yet, Elvis.”
“I don’ want to risk it, they need to know I’m always here for ‘em.”
When he has to leave for your he’s a nervous wreck
He’ll be calling you every free second he had
Checking on you and the baby
Talking to the baby through the phone
It made your heart melt by how much Elvis already loved his child
He was there for every appointment, and he made sure of it.
If he happened to be on tour he made sure to fly back just to be there.
You called him crazy, but he didn’t care, he was with the ones he loved
You could only imagine his reaction when he found out you were having twins
He lost his absolute mind
He picked you up and spun you around
He wouldn't stop talking about it the whole way home
When he did get home, he would tell everyone and talk their ear off
Everyone would be way over it, having to listen to Elvis constantly talk about his two kids on the way
He would try to keep you safe at all times
Wouldn't let you do anything that could potently harm you or the babies
Which does indeed include putting on your shoes
If Elvis saw you trying to even pick up your shoe... it was over for you
He would promptly yell but then would go all soft and whine
"It's not safe for the baby, darlin',"
"I'm literally putting on shoes..."
"So? What if you end up squeezing them to death?!"
"That's not- That's not how that works."
He would make sure you weren't around people who smoked or even drank
He would also make sure you were only eating healthy foods, no junk food, no... absolutely nothing that would be unhealthy for the babies
When you guys were putting together the nursery... the man didn't even let you in the room
Even when you tried to sneak in to do some work... Elvis would take you right back out
It got frustrating at some points, but your heart fluttered from how much Elvis cared
It didn't shock you too much... Elvis loved you and wanted to protect you and his babies at all costs
When it was time... oh boy
Elvis happened to be doing a concert in your guys' hometown
He immediately leave the stage with no explanation, to go be there with you
He would definitely make it up to everyone by rescheduling and giving them some free signed shirts, but goddamn it! HIS KIDS WERE ON THE WAY
He would be freaking out in the hospital room
He would be screaming, crying, just all over the place
"I should be freaking out,"
"Then why aren't you?????!!!"
"Elvis honey... you freak out enough for both of us."
You two had a very healthy baby boy and girl
You already knew that your little girl was going to be daddy's girl
Beaux and Avani Presley is what you two decided on
You didn't know if you were crying because of labor pains, or crying because Elvis was crying
You truly didn’t expect Elvis to act this way... but it just made you even more confident that he was going to be the best dad ever.
"They're so beautiful. They look just like you,"
"They also look like you, Elvis. They look like both of us."
He would then stick his tongue out at you.
Beaux is a definite shy kid while Avani would be much like her father
Elvis would definitely bring his kids out on stage for everyone to see
Avani would probably sing and Beaux would hide against you
Want to join my Taglist?
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cavinginhisfvce · 3 years ago
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It's always so funny to me when people say Billy wouldn't be extremely dramatic over literally any scenario. They always assume he'd be stoic and disinterested, but I disagree.
Like, c'mon, have y'all seen this man? He screams Drama Queen, will bite if too excited!!
Steve would tell Billy they couldn't hangout that day because his parents need help around the house, and Billy just absolutely starts bawling his eyes out. He's not particularly hurt, he knows that Steve would rather spend the day with him, but the thought of not seeing Steve for 24 hours has Billy's bottom lip wobbling. Steve would panic, immediately throwing out suggestions to the boy, asking if he'd like to come over and help out? His parents adore Billy, because what sane person didn't fall in love with his stormy blue eyes, and sweet smiles? Billy worked so hard to be able to wear that smile, and gods, was it the most beautiful thing Steve has ever seen.
Billy would immediately stop crying at the offer, his eyes lighting up as he scrambles to crawl into Steve's lap, "do you think your mom will let me fix that fucking lamp now?" At that, Steve let out a laugh. It had been a recurring argument between his mother and boyfriend.
One morning Billy had been over, as he always was, he was making him and Steve breakfast when the front door slammed shut, the noise muffled by the various sounds of him cooking and soft music filtering out the speaker on the counter.
He hadn't heard the Harringtons come in, and had only been privy to their presence when Mr. Harrington let out a rather high pitch scream, Billy following suit with a loud shout of his own, but unlike him, Mr. Harrington had flung himself out the room, promptly running into one of Mrs. Harrington's favorite lamps, a lamp she hadn't been able to find in years.
All the yelling had Steve barreling down the stairs and skidding to a halt, "Billy, why are you yelling now?!" Billy for his part let out an indignant gasp, the spatula clutched in his hand waving wildly in the direction of Steve's mother. Because how dare he assume Billy was yelling without real reason.
He hadn't seen her, in all honesty. He rarely saw anyone around him if Billy happened to be there.
"Oh, hey mom! Where's dad?" At that question, a very guilty looking Richard Harrington took his place beside Elena, the lamp in his hands cracked down the middle, with it's wires exposed.
To say that had been an interesting meeting for Billy and Steve's parents, would be an understatement.
Since that day, Billy has tried to get Elena to let him fix it, but she was stubborn and insists she can fix the lamp on her own.
Billy knew he was was free to be emotional with Steve, he never judged him when he got worked up over virtually nothing. If Billy quite literally cried over spilled milk, Steve would scoop him into his arms and coo softly before offering to clean up the mess.
Steve has caught Billy full on sobbing while watching sad movies, I'm talking snot dripping out his nose, chest heaving as the characters he was rooting for met an untimely demise.
Steve still remembers the first time Billy dissolved into tears in front of him, it was after their third date and Steve had called Billy his Tiny Baby upon seeing the boy almost swimming in his borrowed hoodie. Obviously, Steve panicked, immediately apologizing for having upset Billy before the boy was clinging to him and sobbing into his chest.
When his tears ran dry, Billy assured Steve that he was just overwhelmed by the name, but it wasn't a bad overwhelmed. It filled him with a warmth, he hadn't known since the day his mother turned tail and never returned.
He hadn't known what the warmth meant, but over time he learned it was a good feeling. One he would always lean into so long as Steve was there to hold him up.
Soon enough, Steve was being bombarded with a different, softer side to his boyfriend. Each time Billy cried with no shame in front of Steve, or he giggled over some mundane thing, Steve knew another wall had been knocked down and he was that much closer to knowing Billy on a level nobody had never been allowed before.
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