#Ted is a rich boy

[ghostly-writers]

I made some aesthetic mood boards from my collage au! Please comment what you think!

Theodore:

“I’ve got looks and money I’m everything you aren’t”

Diane:

“A girl needs to set free sometimes!”

Nicky:

“You can’t just throw money at everything and expect it to be fixed Ted”

[saetoru]

i think everyone needs to stop and think about rich boy! reo in a college au with me where he plays at the collegiate level and wants to go pro but his dad wants him to take over the family company and he meets you in an elective course where he’s paired with you to work on a project that he always skips in favor of practicing for soccer more and then he falls for your quick witted responses and slightly snarky attitude about him not carrying his weight on the project bc no one has ever talked to him like that and it was kinda hot

[benicebefunny]

Oh, no, not fandom using the very real and ever-present threat of mass shootings in US schools to argue how Tedbecca can still win.

[sweetsweetloverlover]

trent crimm little woof......... hes so my best friend

[zibah-ho]

don’t fucking humanise Rupert istg

[startrekgirlie]

OK but you'd be a fool to say a deep humanist ideal doesn't follow most iterations of the doctor, even if he often times operates and acts with the morals and reasoning of a man who spent his entire, unimaginably long life travelling time. Even the cruelest doctors tend to feel something when someone dies who did not need to, who should not have and only did good, but that feeling is calloused at best and repressed at worst. It's what makes him an interesting character, that, even with an aloof and often alarming perspective that ends up treating most of the world around him as more or less disposable, one of the main drives for his actions (when not merely boredom curiosity or even just happenstance) is a legitmate adoration and want for protection for the idea of the 'little people,' and aiding them- even if sometimes he finds himself frustrated, angry, or dismissive of their ignorance. Its the basic idea behind the companion, that even if we question his morals, we know there's at least one person he'll get home safe at the end of the episode. (though this isn't the foundational narrative or structural reason for the companion, it becomes its strongest and most intentional character benefit)

Anyways, yes the dr should be a dick, and somewhat inconsiderate, but it's not as if they don't hold anyone's interests at heart- just, not everyone's

Holds casual Dr who fans by the shoulders. Hey did you know that the doctor isn’t a usually a good person with other people’s interests at heart? Did you know that? Did you know they do terrible things for that they believe to be the greater good all the time? That they aren’t a good person?????

[where-does-the-heart-lie]

ASL brothers HAIKYUU!! AU!!!!!

Day one of Self Indulgent month for me! I love these three, i love haikyuu, i love killer whales!

(The Naval Academy is this au’s version of marines)

For those who dont know, in Haikyuu (and prob in real life too but in my experience its not as important as they make it in the anime) The "Ace" of the team is the person who primarily scores points via spiking. Theyre the Hard Hitter, basically.

Design talk👇

Originally, i was gonna make their school mascot just "The Pirates" but i couldnt figure out a clever pun with the school name so i scrapped it in favor of an animal mascot. I figured I would have a wider range of puns that way.

I landed on Orcas as the mascot because I think they really embody a pirate way of life. Theyre strong, hang out in groups of a mix of found family and their actual family, hate the rich, and theyre fun loving! And also im a bit biased because theyre my favorite animal, but hey, i said its self indulgent month, didnt I?

Their school name is a play on the word for Killer Whale (Shachi シャチ) and the word for 'knowledge' (Chishiki 知識), i just smashed the two words together. I'm very proud of myself for coming up with that given i dont speak japanese at all.

Anyway, with their designs, I was taking inspiration from orcas to match the design themes of haikyuu. Ace's hair is bleached on the underside to look like the underside of an orca's body, I made ace and sabo's eyes look more whale-like, the clip in sabo's hair is meant to resemble to spots behind orca's eyes, and I tried to make luffy's hair look more like it's round and spiking down more than i usually do.

Ace is wearing a ''way of the ace" shirt in the first picture, Luffy is wearing a shirt that just says "VOLLEY BALL" because i think it would be funny if he wore a bunch of those Zero-context-poorly-translated-random-english-words shirts that theres a bunch of in Asia. Sabo dyes his hair like delinquents do, but it doesnt much look delinquent~y because of how soft it looks. He means to do it to make him look like a delinquent though. Sabo still has his scars in this au, but he uses his hair, arm braces, and leg braces to cover them up. LUFFY AND ACE HAVE FUNKY SOCKS BECAUSE NO ONE CAN TELL THEM (or me) THEY CANT. Sabo wears athletic socks though because he's a debbie downer. He defends himself saying ���It’s practical” and Ace and luffy call him “practically a Debbie Downer.”

Luffy is very good at receiving from growing up with Sabo and Ace practicing setting and spiking with eachother and assigning Luffy as Ball Boy. So he got the libero position from that cuz sabo and ace put in a good word for him. Nepotism.

I didn't feel like coming up with designs for them, but Zoro and Bepo are also on their team (theyre in the fifth image sitting on the right of the line of students). Koala and nami are student managers, Robin is the teacher manager, and Franky is the coach. all other straw hats/luffy friends, rev army comrades, and whitebeard brethren are in the stands. Im trying to keep the ages consistent with how they are in canon.

I didnt do a very in depth research, but i couldnt find what Japanese schools have as mascot costumes. and given no one wears any costumes in haikyuu for their team, i can kind of assume they dont use them over there. But unfortunately for them, I'm American. And part of the backbone of our schooling system, is Vaguely Unsettling Mascot Costumes. My sister says my design for it looks like its from Club Penguin, and i find that delightful. [moment of silence for my billions of fallen Puffles, taken from me in The Shutdown] Anyway.

I thought I was clever coming up with the equivalent of the Marines in this au being a Naval Academy. And their mascot being Seals, famously the animal that gets the absolute Worst Of It from orcas. Get shit onnnnn

I believe thats about it, thanks for coming to my ted talk :)

[hufflepuffsthunderdome]

Bikini Bottom

Schlatt x Fem!reader Summary: Reader is anxious about the scars on her legs, and struggles with wearing a bikini to the pool. Schlatt just wants to reassure them and remind them how beautiful he thinks they are. Content: she/her pronouns, fluff, angst w/ comfort, panic attacks, self criticism, body image issues, scars, allusions to self-harm or injuries (nothing specific), kissing A/N: This was based on this request from the lovely @imgayandvoreethatsall it was such a cute request I got a little bit carried away writing it so it is loooonggg.

You feel your lip wabble as you eye yourself in the mirror, tilting your head to the side as you take in your reflection staring back at you. Mocking you. It was a scorching week in LA and everyone was making use of the pool that came with the Airbnb you were staying at, as they had been everyday the temperature had hit anywhere near 80 degrees.

It was a gorgeous pool, with a huge patio, deck chairs, glass fencing overlooking the LA hills, one of those stupid waterfall things that all the rich people had. You'd been spending most of your week feeling shit, despite the gorgeous background, lounging on a deck chair in your t-shirt and shorts, trying to keep your eyes glued to the pages of the book you were reading. Every now and again though, you'd look up and just eye your friends having fun in the pool. The chuckle boys were here, filming some stuff, Tucker, his wife, Ted, his girlfriend, Schlatt and a number of other mutual friends they had invited to hang out, including you.

You couldn't help the jealousy in your eyes as you looked at all your friends as they seemed to glide around the pool without a care in the world. It wasn't their fault, you loved them dearly, but it's true when they say there's a certain type of person in LA. Tall, slim, tanned, stunning. You'd watch your girlfriends as they'd sit next to the pool, their long, slim, smooth legs danging in the water, their bleach blonde hair tossed back as they laughed, sun shining off their pearly white teeth. God it made you feel ill.

You had gotten out of it all originally, when the pool talk came up, "oh I don't have a swim suite," you had told Ted, cringing at the disappointment on the faces of your friends as you shrugged softly, "I'll come sit out there though."

But as the temperature kept ticking up, your friends kept asking, and by god did you wanna use the pool. So you bit the bullet, fucking chewed and swallowed that thing more like, and went out and bought a bikini.

It was cute, you had to admit to yourself as you look at yourself in the mirror, and if it was anything else you'd be fawning over yourself in it. It was some ruffly thing that hugged your chest great, high waisted bottoms cupping your ass and stopping just below your belly button. As cute as it was it did nothing to cover your legs.

You feel the tears well up in your eyes as you look down at them, sucking your lip between your teeth to stop the flood gate from opening. Long scars litter the sides of your upper leg, some red, some pink, some white, staring up at you mockingly. It 's embarrassing, walking around with these stupid lines on your legs. While everyone else is model esque perfect, you're covered in the permanent reminder of your past. Of pain and suffering that taunt you, knowing you've missed that chance at perfection.

A soft knock at the door startles you away from the mirror as it creaks open the tiniest bit at your silence. "Y/N?" you hear Schlatt say, his accent thick on his tongue as his tone is soft and gentle, "you ok?"

You hum, as you quickly scramble for your shorts, pulling on the board shorts over your legs as you open the door, plastering on a smile as you look up at Schlatt, "hey, I'm good yeah."

He laughs as he moves out of the way, letting you step out of the room, "I thought you got lost in the bed sheets."

You laugh softly as you walk with him out to the pool, tugging on your shorts when you feel them ride up the tiniest bit, "I was just hyping myself up." you admit softly as you feel your face warm up at your confession.

"For what?"

“You know,” you say as you motion down to your bikini, stomach tensing when you feel his eyes trail down your body. Schlatt next to you swallows thickly as he looks over your body, admiring the way the bikini top hugs your chest, the way the shorts hang off your hips so enticingly.

“You coming swimming?” he asks, as he snaps his eyes back up to your face, furrowing his brow at the anxiety on your face. Your small nod is all he needs before a grin is breaking out on his face and he's hoisting you up into his arms the second your feet hit the outdoor patio. You squeal in delight as you thrash around in his arms, his gaze loving as he beams up at you as you squirm. “Look who I dragged out,” he calls out excitedly as your friends cheer, ignoring your shrieks of protest as he strides over to the pool, howling with laughter as he unceremoniously drops you into the water.

Everyone's calmed down a bit as the afternoon wears on, lounging in or around the pool as they chat happily. You're standing over with Schlatt and your friend Amy as you all chat, your body pressed up next to Schlatt as you lean against the wall.

"I wanna get a photo," Sophie, a girl you don't know super well says excitedly as she stands up from her towel. Some people excitedly shuffles over to the fence of the property, overlooking the hills, Amy grinning down at you when she pulls herself out of the pool, "you coming?"

You hesitate as you look at her outstretched hand, going to reach out for her to help you out before Sophie's valley girl voice cuts you off, "maybe the next one Y/N? Like we love a 2000s chic board short look but... this one's for the 'gram," she says as she stares at her phone, not even looking up at you, "you know how it is."

A tense silence falls over the pool as your friends stare at Sophie in shock, a few people you don't know super well humming in agreement, as you let Amy pull you out of the pool none the less. You look at Amy to see the shock already on her face, turning to meet Schlatt's eyes and see the anger burning behind his iris.

"Fine," you mumble as you push the shorts down your legs, taking a deep breath as you push yourself forward and walk over to where the girls are lining up, "am i 'gram ready now?" you say, sickly sweet as Amy laughs next to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder.

Schlatt stares in awe at your confidence, as much as he can tell you're putting it on. He loves seeing you like this, unwilling to take anyone's shit, it's hot in a way he's not brave enough to admit out loud. He lets out a low whistle as he moves over to the other wall, closer to where you're all waiting to take the photo, "yeah Y/N," he says as he claps, smiling to himself as he watches you blush and turn your head into Amy's neck to whisper something to her. He wolf whistles at you while you take the photo, not so subtly hyping you up as he admires you, watching as you laugh at his antics and cling to Amy as Tucker snaps pictures of all of you.

"That was incredible," he says, a proud grin plastered on his face when you get back in the pool, "you've got the biggest balls of anyone here, shutting her up like that.”

That makes you throw your head back and laugh as you sink back into the pool next to him, placing a hand on his bicep to help you in, "thanks for hyping me up."

"You don't have to thank me," he says sweetly as he takes a gently hold of your waist and helps you in, "that's what I'm here for."

Sophie didn't even end up posting the photos, you think she got her ego hurt a bit by everyone teasing her about her 'gram for the rest of the afternoon. But Amy did, and you couldn't stop tearing over them.

They were cute photos, some of the group, some of just the two of you she had taken, but god you couldn’t stop looking at your legs. You should've put your shorts back on, Amy wouldn't have mind. you should’ve asked her even to edit them, she would’ve said yes, but you couldn’t face the embarrassment. Instead, you just sat here, feet danging in the water as you zoomed in on yourself, not even daring to open the comments.

"Hey," you hear Schlatt's voice say as he approaches you from the house, hand coming over your shoulder to hand you a bottle of something that you take eagerly. He smiles down at you as he sits down, rather ungracefully next to you, legs joining yours in the water with a splash, "you alright?"

That's something you always admired about Schlatt, his ability to turn it off and just be with you when you needed it. He was undeniably loud and in your face when he wanted to be, but he had this ability of reading the room like no one you've ever met before, knowing when you needed someone to just sit and talk. You look up at him and nod as you sip your drink, turning to look back at your phone next to you.

"What's wrong?"

You let out an annoyed groan as you lay back on the tiles behind you, unlocking and handing him your phone. There's no point hiding it from him, he has a way of reading you, you might as well just show him.

He scrolls across the pictures Amy posted, smiling to himself when he sees the one of you with her, tilting your head back and laughing, "what's wrong with these? They're cute."

"Cute?!" you say as you look up at him wide eyed, "omg cute?! Look at my legs," you groan, "ugh it makes me wanna puke."

"Your legs?" he asks as he glances at you, face scrunched up in confusion before he looks back at the phone, "what's wrong with your - oh," he says as his eyebrows raise when he notices what you're talking about.

"Oh god it's so bad isn't it?"

"What? No, no I didn't mean it like that," he says as he zooms in on your legs, taking in the sight of the scars littering them that he's never really taken note of before. He's seen them sure, but he's always been too focused on the soft curves of your thighs to ever really notice.

You're both silent for a while before he speaks, "is this why you haven't been swimming with us?" You just nod as you take the phone back from his hands, zooming in on yourself again as you sigh.

He glances down at you next to him as he takes in your sad expression, feeling his heart ache as he watches your slumped figure stare intently at your phone, "you have an even bigger dick than I thought then for earlier."

You laugh softly as you roll your eyes, looking up at him as you nudge him, sitting up again. "But seriously," he continues, "I'm proud of you," he says as he looks down at you, taking in the way your face is lit up in the dim blue light of the pool.

"Really?" you whisper back, leaning into his side the tiniest bit as you seek out his warmth.

"It's not easy, putting yourself on display," he says as his eyes flick down to your legs for the tiniest second before meeting your face again, hand twitching at his side as he fights the urge to reach out and touch you, "especially when you're worried about something like that."

You nod silently as you fully lean into his side now, resting your head against his arm as the two of you enjoy each other's presence. It feels nice, to feel seen like this, to have someone who notices you, faults and all, and is here anyway.

"When I started gaining weight, it took me ages before I was willing to swim without a shirt on again," he admits as he snakes an arm around to rest on the tile next to your hip.

"Really?!" you ask as you look up at him, turning slightly to rest your chin on his arm as you watch him stare down at the water.

"Oh yeah, like so long," he nods as he moves his legs in the water, watching the way it ripples around his movement, "I was just convinced that everyone would be staring at me the entire time," he shrugs, "and like, sometimes people do you know? I'm not gonna lie... but most people didn't even think twice about it. And if they did they didn't care."

"Do you think anyone noticed my legs today?" you ask as you pull away, looking up at him pensively as you think back on the day. It's hard to remember if the burning of people's gazes on your body was real or just your anxiety convincing you it was.

"Honestly?" he asks softly and you nod, "probably not. Like not in a bad way, just like, I don't think most of our friends really pay attention to that sort of shit."

There's a moment of silence before he's laughing as he looks down at you, "I know I for one was more focused on these puppies," he says as he dramatically and blatantly staring at your chest, "awooga," he says as he hangs his tongue out and dramatically pants.

"I hate you," you say as you fall apart laughing, pushing him away from you and watching him dramatically fall into the pool.

"Don't look so hot and we won't have a problem," he laughs when he comes up to the surface, laying on his back and flailing a bit as he attempts to float.

"You're so unbuoyant?" you question as you stare at him confused, howling in laughter as he flails around.

"Oh yeah like you can do any better," he says as he faux glares at you, fighting the smile creeping onto his lips at the sound of you laughing.

You bite your lip as you smile giddily, pressing your hands against the edge of the pool and slipping into the cool water as you feel it envelope you, "I'm a goddamn pool floatie, I'll have you know."

You lay back in the water, and let yourself float, the rhythmic pattern of the pool jets whirling through the water as it surrounds you, calming you. Your breathing sounds impossibly loud as you take long and deep breaths, but you open your eyes to find the night sky staring back at you. It's not often you see starts in LA, but the few twinkling in the night right now ground you. It's just you, Schlatt and the sky right now, the way you like it.

You flip back over and dunk under the water, pushing your hair back out of your face as you swim up and smile up at Schlatt, "told you so," you tease, but find him already staring at you.

He's looking at you, lips parted slightly as he leans against the wall of the pool, arms resting on the side as his eyebrows raise when you meet his gaze. It makes your heart stutter as you swim closer to him. His tongue swipes across his lower lip as you approach, hands coming to rest by his side as he looks down at you, sinking down into the water so he's closer to you.

"I'm glad you came in with me," he whispers as he smiles softly down at you, almost nervous to break the silence in the air, "I know it's not easy," he takes a deep breath as he gently brings a hand down to touch your waist, "you look amazing though."

You let out a dismissive scoff and shake your head, turning to look off into the distance as you feels Schlatt's eyes stay locked on yours, "thanks," you whisper softly, not really believing it yourself.

You feel his large hand, surprisingly delicate, take a hold of your chin gently and turn your head to look back at him. His eyes stare down at you, soft and loving as you feel the warmth rush to your face as you gaze up at him, "I mean it, you're so beautiful."

He leans in closer, just a tiny bit, but it's enough to make the water ripple around you. His hand moves from your chin to cup your cheek gently, other hand moving under the water to hover over your outer thigh. You feel the water move and you let out a shaky breath, as you bring your hand down to touch his, gently pressing it into your skin. His large hand lays delicately on your thigh for a second, before pressing into the skin ever so slightly as his thumb rubs along your cheek, "you're the most stunning person I've ever seen."

The way he says it, so soft, so earnest, filled with love and unspoken words, makes you let out a shaky breathe you didn't realise you were holding as you move in closer to him. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean into his hand, basking in the feeling of his warmth, his hands on your thigh, soft breath hitting your lips.

You're so caught up in the feeling of each other that you hadn't even noticed the door slide open, or the sound of wet footsteps running towards the pool until a tidal wave of water wallops you and Schlatt as Tucker and Ted laugh manically when they resurface.

"Ever the good timing fellas," Schlatt mumbles, apologetic eyes drifting to you when you swim away from him.

You had made your escape the night before, clambing out of the pool into the dark, where you could secure a towel around you and bask in your safety under it's cover and sinking into the group inside to chat happily with your friends.

Now however, as the sun rose over the horizon, you found yourself looking over your body the same as yesterday. The scars on your thighs stuck out to you like a sore thumb, but you felt better today, more confident. No one would notice and if they did, they wouldn't care, you told yourself. At least Schlatt wouldn't care, he had your back.

"Here she is," Amy squeals excitedly from where she's lounging in the pool when she sees you coming, flopping off the floatie with an excited giggle as she pushes her sunnies up her face.

"And looking fucking fine as hell I might add," Schlatt says with a grin on his face as he walks out of the house behind you, just loud enough for you to hear, bottles of beer in his hand. You roll your eyes and scrunch up your nose as you steal a beer from his hand, walking over to join your friends in the pool.

The day goes on, the sun beaming down on everyone, and you find for the first time in a long while, you're able to forget about your body. Forget about the way you look and the things you hate about it and just exist. It's not perfect, but it's a start.

Schlatt watches from the window in the kitchen of the airbnb as you play with some beach ball someone found, passing it around to people as you grin happily. He just stares, beers he came in to get getting warm on the counter as he just stands there and watches you enjoy yourself. You look angelic; sunkissed and carefree, something he hasn't seen from you in a long time.

"You'll burn a hole through her head if you keep staring," Ted laughs as he walks into the kitchen behind Schlatt, putting the beers he got out back in the fridge and grabbing cool ones instead.

“Can you blame me man,” he says, not even trying to deny that he was staring, he's played this coy denial game when Ted's asked about his feelings for you for too long to care anymore, "she looks great in that bikini."

“That's what's making you act so clingy?” Ted asks as he stands next to Schlatt, taking a sip of his beer as he hands one to Schlatt. Schlatt just nods, watching the way you move as you jump up in the water to grab the beach ball.

Ted lets out a whistle as he watches too, "I can't blame you dude," he says as he takes a gulp of his drink and dodging away from the friendly punch he knows is coming, "she is pretty hot."

More people had trickled into the Airbnb for the rest of the afternoon, as the sun slowly began to set. People you didn't really recognise, friend of a friend kinda people that were just so LA, as Schlatt had said after escaping a conversation with some surfer looking dude and retreating back to your group.

Ted and Amy had been bouncing around the new people who've rocked up, you're not sure if they're their friends or if they're both just social like that, but you, Schlatt and Tucker had retreated to your safe little corner of the pool, to just chat happily.

“Come on you lot,” Ted says as he comes around the pool to your corner, “stop being antisocial.” He whisks you all over to a large group that has formed around a tiny, shitty little fire pit, where chairs had been pulled over to form little groups.

“Some fire,” Tucker scoffs as Ted forces you all to sit down next to him, with a few other people who are chatting to each other.

“The whole city will burn down if you even think of anything bigger,” you laugh as you eye the tiny fire pit, the light from it casting you in a warm glow as you feel the water on you begin to dry in it's slight heat.

Seeming to notice your precence suddenly, the rest of your new little groups introduces themselves and begin to join you in on their conversation. They're talking about some movie they worked on recently that Ted is fascinated by, and you smile and nod along to as you listen to their stories.

They're a very sweet group, you get to know them for a while as they chat, but they're not the most tactful. They had said some weird things already, that you can tell weren't meant to be mean, but just weren't thought through before they slipped out. Something about Tucker being a bad guy for joining the military, and Schlatt's accent making him sound uneducated or some shit. Stupid stuff that the guys shrugged off.

Something you couldn't shrug off though, were the looks they kept giving you. The not so subtle glances you'd catch when they'd look at you, eyes blatantly drifting down to your legs everytime you'd talk. Unlike yesterday, you couldn’t convince yourself this was in your head. This was happening right in front of you, obviously and without shame.

They kept doing it, just openly staring at the scars up your thighs whenever you talked, as if you were nothing more than a spectical to gawk at. You weren't sure if they were even listening, or if they only pretended they were so they could get another look to judge you.

You knew what would happen, the second you all left they'd start whispering, what happened to her? How did she get those scars? Just sitting there like that, out in the open?

You couldn't breathe proeprly, your chest getting tighter everytime you felt their eyes burning into your skin. Each time they'd turn to look at you it felt hotter and closer, as if they were silently telling more poeple to look. To turn and stare at the freak, to point and laugh at your scars. God it was so embarrassing. You felt disgusting.

"I'll be back," you blurt suddenly, interupting Tucker as you stand up, knocking your chair over in the process as you fumble to pick it up, throat feeling tight when more people look over at the comotion. You push your way through the group and book it into the house, finding the first room you can, luckily a bathroom and locking the door behind you.

You tear a towel off the hanger and wrap it around your waist to save yourself having to look at your scars anymore, hands shaking as you attempt to secure it. You grip the counter as much as you can as you double over, heaving chest attempting to breathe as you stare down at the sink, gasping. Your head feels like it's spinning, eyes struggling to focus on anything as you look up at the ceiling, panting and weezing as you try to calm yourself down.

The door handle jiggles and you choke back a gasp as you try to stay silent, short shallow gasps escaping your lips as you try not to choke. It jiggles again and you manage to cough out, "occupied."

“It's me,” Schlatt's concerned voice comes from the other side, "can I come in?”

You let our a choked breath as you reach blindly for the door, unlocking it and stepping back against the wall as Schlatt pushes the door open and steps inside, shutting it behind him.

You stare up at the ceiling, throat tightening more as you feel his concerned eyes on you, heaving to bring in a breath as you refuse to look at him. It's a heartbreaking sight, to watch you like this, watch your face scrunch up in pain as you struggle to breath. He reaches out a hand gently, hovering it just over your shoulder, "can I touch you?"

You nod urgently as you finally lower your gaze to look at him, sputtering as you feel the spit pool in your mouth as you cough and choke, doubling over as you try to calm yourself down.

"You're ok," he says softly, watching you with concerned eyes as he slowly lowers you to the ground, which you happily oblige, going to pull your knees up to your chest to sooth yourself before he stops you, "sit up straight if you can."

You follow his soft instructions as your brain throbs, hazy from the lack of oxygen you're taking in. You preen at his soft praise, "that's perfect, now breathe with me ok."

His voice shakes with nerves as he watches you struggle, hands gripping your shoulders firmly as he keeps his face infront of your eyes, taking a deep breath in and nodding as you attempt to follow. "Perfect, that's perfect."

He sits with you for a while, breathing with you through the panic attack until you can breathe on your own. He feels his own breathing return to normal when you slump your head back against the wall, eyes shutting from exhaustion as your chest begins to rise and fall in a steady pattern.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" he asks, looking at you with furrowed brows as he keeps his arms firmly on your shoulders. He doesn't wanna push you to talk if you're not ready, but he desperately wants to know what happened to make you feel this way.

"They were staring," you say, voice barely above a whisper as your face scrunches up as the painful burn of their gazes return to your skin.

His face morphs to one of realisation as he glances down at the towel around your waist, heart aching at the pain across your face, "shit, Y/N," he whispers as he pulls you into a tight hug. His strong arms wrap firmly around you, bringing you closely into his chest as he buries his face in your hair, rubbing your back when he feels you exhale a shaky breath into his chest. He just wants to keep you here, in his arms, where he can make sure you know how perfect you are.

"I know it won't help with how shit it feels," he whispers into your hair, "but seriously fuck them," he presses a gentle kiss to your head as he asks, "was it that lot we were sitting with?"

You just nod as you burry you head further into his chest, trying to escape the world. His arms tighten again around you and you feel your heartbeat in your ears as he holds you firmly against him. You barley make out what he says over the static in your brain as you melt against him, something about their personalities being faker than their teeth.

"At least you're fucking real," he says as he pulls away slightly, keeping his arms tight around your waist, "real and strong... and fucking perfect."

His words warm you up from the inside as you gaze up at him, sucking your lip between your teeth as your stomach flutters. You are real, and so is he. Right now, the feeling of his arms firmly around your waist is more real and more important to you than anything else outside this bathroom.

He watches you, eyes drifting down to your teeth as they chew in your lip, his thumb coming up to gently tug it free. Running the pad of his thumb across the smooth, soft skin of your lip he can't help the way his lips part, the way his breathing gets heavier as he takes in the sight of you, "so perfect," he whispers again as he leans in.

His thumb moves from your lips and is replaced with the soft warmth of his lips against yours, gently ghosting over yours, giving you a chance to pull away.

You pull your arms free from where they're sandwiched between you two and wrap them around his neck, pulling him closer to you. You push your lips firmer against his, melting into the kiss as you push yourself against his.

Schlatt lets out a breath into your mouth he didn't realise he was holding, your lips moving against his as he poured all his love and devotion into the kiss. He wanted you to feel beautiful. To feel safe. To feel loved. He pulled you closer again, flush against his chest, sure you could feel his heart beat against yours as your lips moved in tandem. He felt the spark that everyone talks about, that spark that he always thought was some sappy shit, but right now feels so real.

You lift yourself onto your knees, kneeling with him so you're closer to his height, lips staying locked together. He was warm, and gentle, taking his time to move his lips against yours in a way that reminded you that he was here for you, nothing else. Just you, as you are. The towel shifts from your waist and drops down your legs a bit, leaving you in your bikini and him in his shorts, warm skin pressed against each other. His hand comes down to lay gently against your thigh, soft and gentle against the scars there, and you don't move, you don't flinch or shy away, instead, you lean into him more.

He pulls away panting softly, his hold firm and loving on you as he whispers against your lips, "you're so perfect."

For the first time in a long time you believe it.

[jamiehe4rtsmen]

² it's friday, i'm in love

୨ৎ

as chappell roan said, "your favorite artists' favorite artist"�� but for you, it was more like your celebrity crushes celebrity crush!

you'd been on youtube for a long time now, flying under the radar of the algorithm for a good while. there were pluses and minuses to this arrangement, of course— you didn't live in a multi-billion-jillion dollar mansion, but also, your fanbase was small and dedicated, and you still lit up every time when you saw a fan edit or fan art.

out of sheer luck, a friend of a friend of a friend of a... well, you get the jist, but you knew ted through mutual friends. you'd met at a party once, and you geeked out upon meeting him, chatting his ear off. he had more subscribers than people you've ever met! by a million.

clearly, you had left some kind of impression on little ol' ted, because he invited you onto chuckle sandwich (rip), and right on the dot you were squished in the booth, trying to prepare for the inevitable being-squeezed-between-two-over-six-feet-men, wide eyed and a little nervous as you adjusted your hair for what felt like the hundredth time.

then you felt the booth dip beside you, and you whip your head around (then up) to see a huge brick wall of a man. "you must be schlatt! it's nice to meet you!" you chirp, offering out a hand.

maybe you weren't the best at first impressions, because schlatt took one look at you— and maybe he was feeling under the weather... or something?— he turned bright red and ran out. like, quite literally got up out of the booth, and ran, muttering about going to the bathroom.

you and ted ended up chatting politely about how you got into streaming, what your favorite thing to stream is— the kind of questions anyone who had a podcast would ask. but then you felt the familiar dip in the booth, you turned around again to face the big man again. gracious and charming, he blurted—

"so... woman. got uh," he cleared his voice. "got a boyfriend?"

it takes a second for that question to load in your brain, and then you blink. realizing you're on a podcast and not an awkward first date— (could've fooled you)— you try to come up with a charming response of, "the only man in my life is the twitch grind, schlatt," and offer him a grin.

the mic picks up the grumble under schlatt's breath; "there room for one more?"

ted snickers, but attempts to save you from an awkward situation by steering the interview back to questions they have for you. schlatt gets a little less awkward after his whole "unlimited games or unlimited bacon" spiel, but he goes right back to his antics after he leans in a little closer and chirps,

"wanna play a game that we always play with the podcast guests?"

looking around suspiciously, ted raises a brow, because there is definitely not a 'game' or whatever the hell schlatt's spouting right now. "schlatt, what the fuck are you—"

"it's, uh, you basically turn the digits of your phone number into a number and tell me how much money you'd have." schlatt stutters out, offering a dorky smile to you.

you blink. "one? i only have one phone number. i'm not richie rich like you!— i watched that one video of yours when you went to that hotel room that was so much money, it made my head spin."

"ah, that's nothin', toots. i can take ya sometime." he winks at you, and for some reason, your heart flutters. "like uh, a part two."

ted, always the instigator; "would you two sleep in the same be—"

"al—right!" schlatt claps loudly. "let's move on."

the interview ran smoothly enough, but it was nothing compared to the comments. they exploded about the chemistry between you two, the banter, and schlatt's pathetic attempt at flirting. it made all the fans go insane, it was clipped a hundred times over and posted everywhere.

and then the pièce de résistance? an offhand comment schlatt made on stream, joking that if people started donating a thousand dollars, he'd ask you out on a video game date.

boy, did the fans deliver for you two! they insisted that schlatt raid your stream, which he did, peppering comments like "what's your favorite flower" or "how are you doing today beautiful?" fans of yours even left sneaky little comments in schlatt's chat about what kind of things you liked, and a few clips of you talking about your type in men and your ideal dates were sent directly into schlatt's dms. and he watched them. analyzed them, actually. if he put this much energy into homework back in school, he'd be on track to get his masters right now!

after doing his research, he felt ready to ask.

↓

jschlatt donated $1,500!

↳ hey toots. you free @ 7pm EST?

and that sealed the deal. like clockwork, at 7pm EST, you actually got dressed up all nice, did your hair and put on a nice dress, sat down at your gaming chair and booted up discord, hovering over the call button under schlatt's tag. but he called you first, and you twirled your hair one more time before answering.

"hi," you smiled, a dumb cheshire cat grin on your face. fortunately, schlatt's was even bigger.

in the background, you made a few clicks and booted up your stream as he did his. "so where do you want to go, on our date?"

"this is a date?" you quirk a brow, smirking, and schlatt turns just as red as the first time he met you.

he stammers, "well, like, in the sense of the word, y'know. date. hangout. uh, shindig. whatever the hell you want it to be. ma'am."

schlatt turned on the facecam to show he was wearing a black turtleneck, and you turned on yours to show off your outfit. "i'm not your mom, you don't have to call me ma'am." you giggled, wiping off the bit of lipstick on the corner of your lip.

he grumbled something under his breath, his chat clearly hearing something you didn't as he comically widened his eyes, looking around the room as chat exploded.

but besides that little blip, it all went great! always the gentleman, schlatt booted up his pc to minecraft, but you shook your head and insisted on playing stardew valley instead. the two of you started on a farm together where schlatt had put your beds suspiciously close to each other and jokingly started trying to fight the townspeople— specifically sam— for 'getting all over you'. he was even about to fight robin for 'hitting on you', since he quipped, "equal rights, equal fights. and i support women liking women. but not if they're trying to steal ya from me, alright?" and promptly tried to hit her in game with an axe. lovely!

you ended up laughing so hard you felt like you had a six-pack. schlatt was genuinely a good time, and when the two of you met shane in-game, it was whirlwind. you compared him to schlatt, and he vehemently denied it. "maybe i should get married to shane," you quip, and schlatt scoffs. "what? he's like, the walmart— jojamart— version of me! you could get the real deal, right here!" he practically whined, rolling his eyes petulantly.

after hours of laughing and cracking jokes, running around pelican town and flirting, you two decided to end stream. he hummed a soft, "we should do this again sometime."

"oh, we will." you grin. "my dms are open."

he smiled, looking straight into the screen— it felt more like right into your soul, though. "good to know."

୨ৎ

dividers credit: @strangergraphics

[ladybirdswritings]

INVISIBLE STRING, AU — clark kent x reader.

DESCRIPTION: you lock eyes with a charming stranger at a party you’d rather not be at, and now he’s whisking you away on a date. NOTES - leave me all your thoughts and opinions. i love them <33 | prev part ; next part

three;

Your skin was drowned in amber and cashmere—rich, silken, and sparkling. Your hair was tied up in a bun, allowing a few mischievous ringlets to escape, highlighting the curve of your slender neck, and the pulse racing there.

Your dress was a deep violet, so deep that only under fluorescent lights could you see the purple hue—otherwise, it appeared black.

You looked gorgeous.

And nervous.

Entirely nervous, as you reapplied your gloss and paced the tile floor, where Kate and Axel eyed you suspiciously.

“Y/N, you really need to stop pacing. You’re making me anxious,” Kate snapped, having had enough of your shaky tirade. Axel nodded in agreement. “Calm down, you’re going to scare him away before he even gets here.” You scowled at that.

In the time since you and Clark had shared a quiet moment by the fire, when he trapped a ruby berry between your joined palms and blurted his desire to take you out, you’d texted sporadically and awaited a jolt to snap you from this dream.

“He’s definitely a serial killer,” you decided, and Kate pinched the space between her brows, shaking her head.

“Y/N, if he was a serial killer, don’t you think he would have killed you when you were alone at the bonfire?”

You huffed. “Ted Bundy had a girlfriend he adored. He didn’t chop her up into tiny pieces.”

“Oh my God…” your brother sighed, and Kate snorted.

Vera, Kate’s strawberry-blonde bombshell of a sister, stood and pressed warm palms against your shoulders. “Or maybe… you’re a really pretty girl, and he wants to take you on a date because he likes you. Duh.”

You gazed into the sincerity swimming behind her cyan eyes, nodding hesitantly. No, she was right. Your doubt, your pacing—it was just self-deprecation that had burrowed into your bones over the years. It had been so long.

Your ex was a jerk. Beyond that, he was cruel. His words still echoed in your mind.

You won’t find anyone else like me…

No one can deal with your baggage like I can…

No one else would want you like I do…

When you first dumped him, you were confident—until that confidence slowly evaporated, as time passed. Two years, in fact, with no strong man to keep you warm. All the boys you looked at were either taken or vile creatures who only wanted in your pants. Or worse—they didn’t want you back.

Vance was a great example.

Flirty, but noncommittal.

Yet for some reason, you still pined, and it made you feel pathetic.

The hum of the doorbell made your eyes widen to saucers. A cold chill kissed your skin.

“Do I look okay?” you nearly shouted in a whisper, anxious.

“You look great,” Vera promised, and you nodded, dragging your kitten-heel-clad feet toward the door.

The scent of pine from January’s chill lingered with honeyed whiskey, chai, and… flowers.

Flowers? Oh, you were definitely dreaming.

His glasses were lopsided and fogged, and he bumped them up with his wrist before offering the bouquet of creams, mauves, and navies toward you.

“Hi,” he breathed, furrowing his brows in frustration as the fog filtered his perfect view of his date. But he could smell you, and hummed a low, satisfied sound in his throat that you just missed.

“Hi.” You offered back, glancing anxiously at Vera and Kate, who hid their smiles behind their palms. You gently grabbed the flowers, fingertips grazing his, and brought them to your nose, inhaling their lovespelled scent.

“They’re… lovely. So lovely. Thank you, Clark.” He grinned, less lopsided than usual, and you handed them to Kate, who promised she’d find a vase before waving goodbye as you stepped outside.

A chill ran across your skin, and though Clark couldn’t see you clearly through his foggy lenses—too big for his face—he felt the ice linger on you. Without a word, he draped his suede blazer over your shoulders. It smelled of him, just like the bonfire, and you inhaled deeply, wrapping it closer.

Who taught him to be so… bookish?

“Come on,” he urged gently, his hand at the small of your back, guiding you to his sparkling navy truck.

You felt every bit the Miss Bennett to his Mr. Darcy as he offered you a warm, far larger than yours, palm and helped you into the elevated truck. Once inside, he quickly rounded to sit beside you. After buckling, he cleaned his glasses with the cloth of his navy shirt before tucking it back into his onyx pants.

Then he faced you and grinned again.

“Well, don’t you look purdy.” He teased, amplifying that Kansas twang, making a flush kiss your cheeks.

He was handsome. So handsome behind those glasses and his books and—well, everything. And here he was, on a date with you, one he initiated.

You’d been anticipating the night to go horribly wrong.

But it hadn’t just yet.

“So, I was thinking, I want to give you options. Mellow, casual—or fancy and… schmancy? Trust me, I don’t mind either. Especially not with you looking like that… uh—not that you don’t always look like that, I just mean—”

You arched a brow, watching the pinch return between his own chocolate brows. He met your eyes, catching the glint of mirth there. He huffed a laugh at his own expense. “I’m bombing this already, aren’t I?”

He tilted his head, his lazy grin making your head spin. You pursed your lips.

“Just a little,” you whispered, grateful that the moonlight cast enough of a shadow over your lips to show him you were joking. He laughed softly. A moment passed, and you realized you hadn’t answered his question.

“Is this another test of yours?”

His brows shifted upwards, and he smirked.

“Maybe.”

“Hmm…” Fancy schmancy restaurant sounded… exhausting. As pretty as you were, you knew very well you couldn’t keep up a tiresome charade for the entirety of the date. It wasn’t you. His pretty car and his Pinterest-worthy face made him seem like the type to prefer that option. But you decided that after you spoke your next words, he’d likely kick you out of his truck— and maybe that was okay.

“Mellow. Casual,” you whispered, and your heart dropped when his mouth turned into a thin line.

There it was.

Too good to be true.

Your palm itched for your seatbelt before that lopsided grin slid back onto his face.

“You’re trying to steal my heart, huh?” he whispered, perhaps more to himself, eyes roaming over your glossed lips. He offered a satisfied nod. “Okay, Y/N, hot chocolate or chai?”

•••

By the time you reached your destination, your eyes widened in awe at the glowing fluorescent letters.

THE WANDERING QUILL;

A bookstore.

You blinked, glancing toward Clark, who flexed his palm in an anxious manner whilst stepping out of the truck. Before shutting the door, he ducked back through it.

“Stay there,” he ordered, and you had to purse your lips together to stifle the giggle bubbling in your throat when he circled to open your door and offer you a veined hand.

Maybe this was a trap. Maybe this perfect stranger was leading you into a slaughterhouse, ready to slice your skin and pick his teeth with your bones.

“C’mon, purdie,” he whispered as you hesitated, grabbing his hand. He led you down with ease, his fingers twitching in your grasp, but he let go, not wanting to push you before he even had you.

“I’m taking you book shopping,” he said, his hand on the small of your back as he guided you through the doors. You were admittedly overdressed, but his suede jacket hid that from view.

It didn’t matter, though. The moment the scent of aged parchment and spiced chai kissed your nostrils, you almost melted in contentment.

“This is my favorite place,” he said, his voice snapping you back to your senses. You looked up, and he was already peering down at you with an anticipatory expression.

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, and his lips twitched as he turned you sharply right and led you to a quaint café beside all the books. He was amused, perhaps because it was maybe the third word you’d spoken all evening. A flush spread across your skin at that realization. You were being too shy. He’d undoubtedly grow bored of you, tire of your muteness, and—

“What’re you thinking about?”

Your eyes snapped to attention, and his expression softened when you spoke.

“No one’s ever taken me to a bookstore,” you said, catching yourself. The barista handed him two warm cups of molten chocolate that made your mouth water. Goosebumps erupted as you wrapped your hands around it.

“Do you like it?” His voice carried hope, and you were far too naive to catch it. Your beaming face melted something in him—like a puppet freed from its strings.

“I do,” you promised, and his lips twitched again. He blew on his drink and led you to a corner behind the café, surrounded by gold-dusted pages and crimson and violet-bound books, like something straight out of a storybook. He swapped your cups, less scorching than before, and then grabbed his own. He tilted his chin, signaling you to take a sip.

You did, and when the molten chocolate coated your tongue, you nearly melted too.

Christ.

If he dumped you on the side of the road after this, at least you’d die with a stomach full of this delicacy.

He laughed—a subtle, joyful sound. “That’s good, right?”

You could only nod, sipping again in tandem with him. His eyes wandered over the books around you. Then you blinked when you read the cursive sign that displayed “romance” in bold letters.

“Okay,” he began, taking your cup gently from your hands, making you pout. As if afraid to wilt you, he guided you forward. And god, if your neck wasn’t so close—so suckable—he might have stopped there. “Um…”

You tensed, wondering if maybe your amber-and-cashmere scent was off, if you’d forgotten deodorant. Christ, your stomach dropped.

Then you felt it—his hand at your hip, warm and firm, much firmer than you expected from his sweaters and flannels. Slowly, it snaked around your waist. He was asking permission, not demanding anything.

“Is this okay?” he whispered, so low you almost missed it. His touch wasn’t sexual; it was exploratory, as if seeing just how the pretty, shy girl—who he’d seen in ridiculous hedgehog pajamas before this—could feel in his arms. You exhaled shakily and nodded.

“And this?” he whispered again, guiding you a step back, treating you like the delicate flower you were. You were back to chest with the bookish stranger you’d met just a week ago. Held. Wanted.

And though your paranoid, self-saboteur mind screamed that this would be disastrous, The gentle thrum of your heart told you this was exactly where you needed to be.

A breathy giggle escaped you as he tested a gentle squeeze on your hip.

He felt almost barbaric, on the verge of losing control as he buried his nose into your honeyed locks with a not-so-subtle inhale, followed by a grin. You smelled like fresh linens and gourmands, and if he were a lesser man, he’d tilt your chin up so to taste you with his starved tongue.

But you were shy, and he wasn’t a lesser man. Raised well by his parents, he only swayed you slightly, loosening the tension in your sharp bones.

“Alright,” he whispered, amusement in his voice, dipping his head low as if to shut out the noise of the world around you— as if to trap you both in this moment. He handed you your cup back, warm, though his body was warmer, and it took all your strength not to shiver and melt into him.

“How about this: you pick a book for me, and I pick one for you. We’ll read them, then when I take you out again, we’ll talk about them.”

When.

Already… when.

You swallowed hard, wondering for a moment if he was seducing you or if he was just a little mad. You were shy, quiet, and painfully awkward, yet he was planning a second date already.

Despite your racing mind, how you felt in that moment told an entirely different story. Maybe playing along wouldn’t be so bad.

“Deal,” you murmured, a mirrored grin tugging at the corner of your mouth. He swayed you again.

“Yeah? Okay. Romance only.” You nodded, “Romance only. Got it… close your eyes.”

And he did. His lashes brushed against your silvered ear as he lowered his head to steal another inhale. It took all his restraint not to pull you closer, not to lazily lick at the vanilla coating your skin.

Your fingers skimmed over the book spines for a long moment before settling on the first one that came to mind— Book Lovers by Emily Henry. Fitting, the title alone was enough, but beyond it— the meaning. Girl doesn’t believe in love, boy changes it… maybe this little game he had you playing could be more than just fun— maybe it could tell him something deeper.

For a moment, you considered playing it safer, but in the end, you decided against it, tucking the book to your chest. “Okay, your turn.”

His grin grazed the place just below your ear as he tilted his head up again, moving his hand from your hip to cover your eyes. You giggled, the sound light and sweet.

“No cheating, y/n,” he murmured, waiting patiently as he plucked a gold-trimmed book from the rattan shelf.

“I’m sure you know this one,” he added, tucking it to his side as you turned to face him, free from his warm grasp. You felt cold again.

“On three?” you offered, and the corner of his mouth lifted, a lazy grin spreading.

“Three,” he said, and your eyes widened as you quickly turned your book to him— and he did the same.

The Notebook.

“Oh, Clark.” His gaze shifted from your chosen book to his own, brows furrowing. “You’ve read it,” he concluded, but you shook your head. “Never even seen the movie.”

His brows lifted, blue-gray eyes widening slightly as he processed your words. A ringlet of onyx hair fell across his forehead as he checked his watch.

“Can I steal you for another… two hours?”

You just didn’t have it in you to say no…

[digital-roots]

Miscellaneous Hatchetfield headcanons (mostly family related)

- Richie's deepest darkest secret is that for a few years when he was little, he and his mom lived in Clivesdale.

- Richie and Trevor are twins separated from birth parent trap style. Trevor was raised in Philadelphia before his dad moved backed to Hatchetfield, thinking his wife and Richie were still in Clivesdale. The two brothers have not interacted ever despite their proximity with each other.

- Gary Goldstein is actually a clone of Paul, the first one ever made long before they started to make the others for the moon colonies. He escaped and changed his identity, went to law school in another state, and came back to be a sleazy attorney for very rich clients. Said rich clients include Linda Monroe, who he had an affair with and became the biological father of Jordan. He's a deadbeat but he does treat him nicer than Linda's other sons when they happen to be in the same room with each other.

- Gary also does not like musicals but he doesn't make a big deal about it. His go-to coffee order is a large caramel frappe.

- Nora and Jane were actually really good friends, with Jane actually helping Nora to open Beanie's. Nora only gave Emma the job because she felt pity about Emma losing her sister.

- Sylvia is Karen's estranged older sister who cut off her ties with their family after being fed up with their obsession with purity and conservatism. At 18, She moved in with her then boyfriend at the time (they've broken off since then). Grace still prays for her sinner aunt to change her ways.

- Girl Jeri and Boy Jerry went to Sycamore High along with Mark and Karen. They did Bible study sessions together.

- Pete's parents have always had a rocky relationship and by the time Pete is 18 they're finally in the middle of being officially divorced. Pete would sometimes stay at Ted's shitty apartment when things got really messy.

- a lot of the teens think Pete is the owner of Pizza Pete's which adds to why they think he's rich. Max in particular makes fun of him for this a lot despite Pete trying to tell him on numerous occasions that he doesn't own the place.

- Pete and Alice were childhood friends but drifted away by the time they were in high school. They bonded over their shared love of sweets and dysfunctional living situations.

- Ruth had a HUGE crush on Alice, and both were a part of the tech crew in their school theater group. When she found out Alice was dating local stoner and rebellious cool girl Deb she wailed in the bathroom for a solid hour.

[writingduhh]

You asked for Ted or schlart requests so may I kindly ask for both of them with baby fever? Have a good day!!

Schalrt 😭😭 that caught me off guard

Hope you enjoy !! Sorry if I’m a little rusty, it’s been a second!

Baby Fever (HCS)

❥ Jschlatt

▷ Schlatt starts subtly dropping hints. He'll casually scroll through cute baby clothes on his phone while you're sitting next to him, showing you an outfit and asking, "Wouldn't this look cute on a little one?" He acts like it’s no big deal, but you catch him looking at baby stuff more often than not.

▷ You’ll walk into the room and find Schlatt watching those compilation videos of babies doing cute or funny things. He’ll pretend he was watching something else, but you know better.

▷ Playfully testing your reaction. Every once in a while, he’ll ask a question like, “How do you think you’d look holding a baby?” or “What if we had a kid in the next few years, huh?” He loves watching your reaction, teasing you with a smirk.

▷ Talking about how he was as a kid. He’ll get nostalgic, telling you stories about his own childhood, emphasizing how much he’d love to share that with a little one of his own. “I used to build the best pillow forts as a kid. You think we’d have a kid who’d be into that?”

▷ Joking about having ‘a mini-me’. He’ll tease you by saying, “Imagine a little version of me running around. The world’s not ready for two Schlatts,” but his smirk shows he’s secretly into the idea. “At least you’d get double the love.”

▷ After a long day, when you’re both curled up on the couch, he’ll bring it up in a more heartfelt way. “I think I’d be a good dad,” he’ll say quietly, eyes soft as he gazes at you. “And you’d be an amazing mom/dad. I can already see it.”

▷ Using his cats as practice. You’ll find Schlatt baby-talking the cats, calling them his “little babies,” then turning to you and saying, “Good practice, right? When we have a kid, I’ll be a pro.”

▷ He’ll throw out the most ridiculous names while you’re doing mundane things. “What do you think about naming a kid ‘Maverick’? No? What about ‘Meatball’?” He’ll laugh it off, but it’s his way of getting you to think about baby names seriously.

▷ Calling himself ‘dad’ randomly. He’ll do things like fix a broken appliance or open a jar for you, then proudly say, “See? Im already the dad of the house.”

▷ He’ll come up with hilarious (and slightly absurd) future scenarios. “So when our kid’s 5 and starts a lemonade stand, I’ll be the muscle, making sure they get good prices. We’ll be rich!”

▷ Dropping hints during random conversations. You’ll be discussing future plans, and Schlatt will casually slip in, “We’ll need a bigger car. Y’know, for when we’ve got a car seat back there.” He’ll laugh, but he’s clearly testing the waters.

❥ Ted

Ted gets visibly excited over baby things he sees, like baby clothes or tiny shoes. “Look at these tiny sneakers! Can you imagine a mini version of me wearing these?” He’s playful but definitely serious about wanting it someday.

▷ Constantly dropping dad jokes. Ted’s already known for his sense of humor, but when he gets baby fever, his dad jokes get even worse (and more frequent). “What do you call a baby potato? A small fry!” He cracks these jokes constantly, then grins and says, “See? I’m ready for dad life.”

▷ Practicing his 'dad voice'. Ted will randomly deepen his voice and say things like, “Hey, kiddo, you can’t eat that!” or “No running in the house!” “Hey, you listen to your mother/father!” He’ll look at you after, all proud, and say, “I think I nailed the dad voice, don’t you?”

▷ Out of nowhere, Ted will start dropping baby names into conversations, just to see how you react. “How about ‘Oliver’ for a boy? Or ‘Lily’ for a girl? I think it’d suit them.”

▷ Ted’s a big traveler, so he often talks about future family vacations. “Can you imagine us taking a little kid to Disney? I’d totally be the dad with the GoPro, documenting every moment.”

▷ When you’re out together, Ted always seems to notice families with young kids. You’ll catch him smiling at parents pushing strollers or playing with their toddlers, then he’ll look at you with that soft expression, clearly imagining the two of you with a little one.

“Practicing” dad outfits. You’ll catch Ted wearing sneakers with high socks, shorts, and a tucked-in shirt, complete with a baseball cap. When you ask him what’s up with the outfit, he’ll laugh and say, “Just getting my dad look ready for when we’re chasing kids around!”

▷ When you’re curled up on the couch or in bed, Ted will hold you close and whisper, “I think we’d be such great parents. I can’t wait to see you with a little one. You’d be the best mom/dad.”

▷ Every now and then, Ted will have a moment of sincerity, where he drops the jokes and looks at you with pure adoration. “I want this with you, someday. A family. I know it’s in the future, but I’m excited for it.”

▷ Ted often daydreams about what your future kids would be like, blending your personalities together. “I bet they’d have your gorgeous looks and my sense of humor. We’d be raising little comedians!”

[theoutcastrogue]

Ballads of the Hanged: Swinging from the Gallows Tree

A mixtape of execution ballads and assorted tales of guilt, wrath, terror, and defiance on the gallows, where all men are brothers.

[on spotify]

21 tracks, 1h 15min in full (spotify lacks one song)

I teased this many moons ago, and I finally finished it. No booklet in PDF form (too much hassle), but I got extensive liner notes, which you can also read here, for more pictures and a wider format. Enjoy!

LINER NOTES

1. Hans Zimmer - Hoist The Colours

Heave ho thieves and beggars never shall we die

What a heartbreaking thing to say on the scaffold. But we have to start with theatrics and a drum roll, and our introduction needs no introduction.

2007, from Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End OST lyrics: Ted Elliott & Terry Rossio music: Hans Zimmer & Gore Verbinski

2. Shirley Collins - Tyburn Tree (Since Laws Were Made)

Next stop, Tyburn: England's most notorious gallows. In The Beggar's Opera, the highwayman Macheath (later also known as Mack the Knife) observes that if they hanged rich criminals like they hang the poor ones, "'twould thin the land". Shirley Jackson subtly changed this to the better.

Since laws were made for ev'ry degree to curb vice in others as well as me, I wonder there's no better company on Tyburn Tree.

But since gold from laws can take out the sting, and if rich men like us were to swing, it would rid the land their numbers to see upon Tyburn Tree.

recorded 1966, released 2002 in Within Sound lyrics: John Gay, from The Beggar's Opera, 1728 music: traditional ("Greensleeves"), 16th century

3. Joan Baez - Long Black Veil

A country ballad about a man falsely accused of murder, who lets himself get dragged to the gallows because he won't reveal his alibi: an affair with his best friend's wife. It's been covered by a million people, here's Baez live.

The scaffold is high, eternity near, She stands in the crowd, she sheds not a tear, But sometimes at night, when the cold winds moan, In a long black veil she cries o'er my bones.

1963, from In Concert Part 2 lyrics & music: Lefty Frizzell, 1959

4. Oscar Isaac with Punch Brothers & Secret Sisters - Hang Me, Oh Hang Me

A poor boy who got "so damn hungry he could hide behind a straw", made his last stand with a rifle and a dagger, and has been all around this world, and is positively done with it.

They put the rope around my neck, they hung me up so high Last words I heard 'em say, won't be long now 'fore you die Hand me, oh hang me, and I'll be dead and gone Wouldn't mind the hanging, but the laying in the grave so long

2015, from Another Day, Another Time: Celebrating the Music of "Inside Llewyn Davis", after Oscar Isaac's rendition in Inside Llewyn Davis, 2013, in turn after Dave Van Ronk's rendition in Folksinger, 1962 lyrics & music: traditional American/unclear origin, folk song with various titles (I've Been All Around This World, The Gambler, My Father Was a Gambler, The New Railroad), first recorded by Justis Begley, 1937

5. Chapel Hill - Seven Curses

Cover of a Bob Dylan song, telling us the dark tale of a judge who's about to send a man to the gallows for stealing a horse, promises his daughter he'll show clemency if she agrees to sleep with him, and then reneges on his promise.

The next morning she had awoken to know that the judge had never spoken she saw that hanging branch a-bending she saw her father's body broken These be seven curses for a judge so cruel

2013, from One For The Birds lyrics inspired by Judy Collins's "Anathea" (1963), in turn inspired by the traditional Hungarian ballad "Feher Anna", who curses the judge "thirteen years may be lie bleeding" lyrics & music: Bob Dylan, recorded 1963, released 1991 in The Bootleg Series

6. Ewan MacColl - Go Down Ye Murderers

A song about Timothy Evans, a man accused of murdering his wife and child, which he denied until his last breath. They convicted him and hanged him in 1950. He was 25 years old. Three years later the real murderer, his neighbour John Christie, confessed, and the case played a major role in abolishing capital punishment in the UK.

The rope was fixed around his neck, and the washer behind his ear And the prison bell was tolling but Tim Evans did not hear Sayin' go down, you murderer, go down

They sent Tim Evans to the drop for a crime he didn't do It was Christy was the murderer, and the judge and jury too Sayin' go down, you murderers, go down

1956, from Bad Lads and Hard Cases: British Ballads Of Crime And Criminals lyrics & music: Ewan MacColl

7. Jennifer Lawrence - The Hanging Tree

One of the stranger things that can happen at the hanging tree is camaraderie. "On the gallows tree, all men are brothers", to quote A Feast for Crows, and when the state murders, then in defiance, an execution ballad can become a protest song. Many have in real life, this one is fiction, from The Hunger Games. Wisely, the director asked the composer for a simple tune, nothing elaborate, something that could be "sung by one person or by a thousand people".

Are you, are you coming to the tree? Wear a necklace of rope side by side with me Strange things have happened here, no stranger would it be If we met at midnight in the hanging tree

2014, from The Hunger Games: Mockingjay – Part 1 OST lyrics: Suzanne Collins music: James Newton Howard

8. Let's Play Dead - Heaven and Hell

A fairly traditional execution ballad written recently for the series Harlots. Margaret Wells sings it to herself for consolation and courage, as she sits alone in a cell, waiting to get dragged to the gallows.

I'm no more a sinner than any man here I'm no less a saint than the priest at god's ear But now I am snared, they will punish me well With a ladder to heaven and a rope down to hell

2018, from the single Heaven and Hell, for Harlots Season 2 Episode 7 lyrics & music: Let's Play Dead

9. Odetta - Gallows Pole

Probably the most well-known execution ballad of the 20th century, thanks to several iconic renditions. This one remains my favourite.

Hangman, hangman, slack your rope, slack it for a while I think I see my father coming, riding many a mile Papa did you bring me silver, did you bring me gold? Or did you come to see me hanging by the gallows pole?

1960, from At Carnegie Hall lyrics & music: traditional (Child 95 / Roud 144), known under many other titles ("Hangman", "The Maid freed From the Gallows", "The Prickle-Holly Bush"); this version is directly influenced by Lead Belly's "Gallis Pole" (1930s), and they both informed Led Zeppelin's 1970 version

10. Johnny Cash - 25 Minutes to Go

Peak gallows humour, uproariously funny and defiant, and somehow still conveying the terror of a man who's about to die and emphatically doesn't want to. Performed live at Folsom Prison.

Then the sheriff said boy I'm gonna watch you die, 19 minutes to go So I laughed in his face and I spit in his eye, 18 minutes to go Now here comes the preacher for to save my soul, 13 minutes to go And he's talking about burning but I'm so cold, 12 minutes to go

1968, from At Folsom Prison lyrics & music: Shel Silverstein, from his 1962 album Inside Folk Songs

11. Johnny Cash - Sam Hall

A classic execution ballad with many versions (see here for its complicated history), some of which are stoic and dignified, and others humorous. But this one brims with rage. Sam Hall will not be repenting on the gallows, and he'll see you all in hell.

My name it is Sam Hall and I hate you one and all And I hate you one and all, damn your eyes

2002, from American IV: The Man Comes Around lyrics & music: : traditional, 18th century broadside ballad, Roud 369

12. Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - Up Jumped the Devil

A song about a man doomed from the start to play the villain’s part, and the origin of this blog’s #swinging from the gallows tree tag.

Who's that hanging from the gallow tree? His eyes are hollow but he looks like me Who's that swinging from the gallow tree? Up jumped the Devil and he took my soul from me

1999, from Tender Prey lyrics: Nick Cave music: Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

13. NOT ON SPOTIFY: Dead Rat Orchestra - The Black Procession

This ballad imagines a sinister procession of 20 criminals (black tradesmen brought up in hell!), each with their own specialty (it's mostly thieves of some sort), on the way to the gallows. The last and worst of them is the thief-catcher, and if one of them is innocent, they'll all go free. But of course none of them are. It's written in thieves' cant (lyrics and more context here), and the chorus means: "Look well, listen well, see where they are dragged, up to the gallows where they are hanged."

Toure you well; hark you well, see where they are rubb’d, Up to the nubbing cheat where they are nubb’d.

2015, from Tyburnia: A Radical History Of 600 Years Of Public Execution lyrics: from The Triumph of Wit by J. Shirley, 1688 music: Robin Alderton, Daniel Merrill & Nathaniel Robin Mann

14. John Harle & Marc Almond - The Tyburn Tree

And where does the Black Procession lead? To Tyburn, of course. The dark gothic side of Marc Almond.

The Tyburn Tree, I weep for thee, blood in the roots 'Tis not a tree with bark and leaves of spring awakening 'Tis not a tree with blossom and fruit, 'tis not a tree No boughs to bend beneath the unruly breath of winter No memories of woods warmed by spring's sweet touch 'Tis not a tree — take a ride to Tyburn and dance the last jig

2014, from The Tyburn Tree (Dark London) lyrics: Marc Almond music: John Harle

15. CocoRosie - Gallows

Speaking of dark and gothic.

They took him to the gallows, he fought them all the way though And when they asked us how we knew his name We died just before him, our eyes are in the flowers Our hands are in the branches, our voices in the breezes And our screaming is in his screaming

2010, from Grey Oceans lyrics & music: Sierra Rose Casady & Bianca Leilani Casady

16. The Tiger Lillies - Hang Tomorrow

In their Two Penny Opera, the pioneers of dark cabaret reimagine Brecht’s Threepenny Opera, and take all the suaveness out of Mack the Knife. Here they also take all the fight out of him. What's even left? A pathetic empty husk, a bastard (let's not forget that Brecht's MacHeath is no rogue with a heart of gold, he's a horrible man) who can't even be intriguing. How disturbingly pedestrian.

So here I am in jail again, oh god it stinks of piss I've been in here since I was young, so I can reminisce It's looking rather grim this time, it's looking rather bad But if I swing tomorrow in some ways I'll be glad

2001, from Two Penny Opera lyrics & music: Martyn Jacques

17. Tom Hollander - Ballad In Which MacHeath Begs All Mens' Forgiveness

In The Threepenny Opera, Mack the Knife stands on the scaffold and asks for pity. No point being judgmental now, that he's about to die. He morbidly describes how his dead body will end up, and then he lashes out at everyone, cops and criminals (same difference), while still begging them all for forgiveness. Very VERY sarcastically. The ballad's concept is borrowed from François Villon (see below), and this translation is unusually bold (honorific, see here and here for other translations and context).

You crooked cops with your Mercedes, your mobile phones, your trendy jackets, your cuts from drugs and dice and ladies, your Scotland Yard protection rackets.

Let heaven smash your fucking faces, slash you and let the blood run free and break you in a thousand places. I've pardoned you. You pardon me.

1994, from The Threepenny Opera - Donmar Warehouse Original Cast lyrics: Bertolt Brecht 1928, loosely inspired by François Villon's "Ballad of the Hanged" c. 1489, translated by Jeremy Sams 1994 music: Kurt Weill 1928

18. Saga de Ragnar Lodbrock - Ballade des pendus

And here's the OG Ballad of the Hanged, written in the 15th century by the OG poète maudit, François Villon (translation here). It paints an indelible picture of strung up corpses swaying in the wind, decaying, pecked by birds, ravaged by the elements and time. And crucially, it's in the first person. The hanged speak, begging their fellow-humans for pity, and god for forgiveness.

Frères humains, qui après nous vivez, N'ayez les cœurs contre nous endurcis, Car, si pitié de nous pauvres avez, Dieu en aura plus tôt de vous mercis. Vous nous voyez ci attachés, cinq, six: Quant à la chair, que trop avons nourrie, Elle est piéça dévorée et pourrie, Et nous, les os, devenons cendre et poudre. De notre mal personne ne s'en rie; Mais priez Dieu que tous nous veuille absoudre!

recorded 1979, released 1999 in the Saga de Ragnar Lodbrock reissue lyrics: François Villon, c. 1489 music: Saga de Ragnar Lodbrock

19. Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - The Mercy Seat

Honorary inclusion, a song not about hanging: the mercy seat is the electric chair. But the lyrics are a punch and this is a torrent of a song, a whirlwind, a masterpiece, a 7-minute cynic snarl. So it couldn't possibly get left out of this compilation.

And the mercy seat is awaiting, and I think my head is burning And in a way I'm yearning to be done with all this measuring of proof An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth (a life for a life and a truth for a truth) And anyway I told the truth, and I'm not afraid to die (and I'm afraid I told a lie)

1999, from Tender Prey lyrics & music: Nick Cave

20. Graveyard Train - Ballad For Beelzebub

And after? Welcome to Hell, ladies and gents, and bards. (Bards are rogues, too.) The Graveyard Train play a kind of Southern Gothic (but very southern, they're Australian), and here they entertain the thought of a band that ends up in hell and has to keep playing, without end, for an audience that can't hear. What a bleak prospect.

Well the air on the stage is burning our lungs And we're all going deaf from the beating drums And you can't see a thing for all the blood and the sweat in our eyes

Well we played till we died, and now we're all dead But the Man says we got to get up there again And you can't come down till the brimstone turns to ice

2008, from The Serpent And The Crow lyrics & music: Graveyard Train

21. Samuel Kim feat. Colm R. McGuinness - Hoist the Colours

Yo ho, all together Hoist the colours high Heave ho, thieves and beggars

But we won't end in hell. The only acceptable ending to this compilation is the triumphant version (wait for it) of its beginning: a pirate's end. Traditionally the gibbet, yes, but also the ghost ship that still sails, the ripple that still travels, and the story that still gets told.

Did I stutter the first time?

NEVER SHALL WE DIE

[zilabee]

Tony Bramwell on John

- People gravitated toward John

- John was okay, considered crazy maybe, but not violent. [...] “If you hang out with that John Lennon,” mums—including mine—would warn their sons, “you’ll get into trouble!”

- He was the rebel we longed to be.

- At a young age John saw and heard things that nobody else did. Voices in his head and faces reflected in mirrors would talk to him.

- He was a born leader, a wild, yet charismatic boy

- You never knew if he was telling the truth, and it didn’t much matter. He was simply mesmerizing.

- In later years when we grew close, John told me how he used to think he was going crazy. At home he said he would gaze into the mirror and ask when he would become rich and famous. “Soon John, soon,” the mirror would seductively reply.

- The visions were huge and all-encompassing and instilled in John the absolute conviction of his own greatness. He often said he was different from the rest of us—probably from another planet.

- I used to sometimes see him staring into the mirror in dressing rooms [...] the other lads would preen and fix their hair without thought, like we all did, but John would seem to go into a trance.

- He was like the Fonz before the Fonz existed.

- He could well have been psychic, or even the genius he was later thought to be, but to adults he was always just a pain in the arse

- He portrayed himself as a natural rebel, but I think he was quite unhappy

- In fact, you could never really get close to John. Even when he was talking to you there was always a sense of isolation

- There was something about the way John looked and stood and even walked that spelled sex and trouble

- he dressed like [the Teds], but didn’t live the life or fight the fights. He just walked the walk. They also despised the fact that he came from a middle-class home and went to a grammar school, while they were genuinely tough working-class navvys

- He was funny, as well as being irreverent and totally insecure

- Despite being a brilliant songwriter, John wasn’t as deep as people thought he was, but he was an original

- John was a notoriously lousy drinker. Two of anything was his limit, but he always demanded large Scotches and Coke.

- [John] was the first to start worrying about money. The more they had, the more he worried it would suddenly vanish

- People deferred to John because he looked the peacenik part. He was shortsighted and wore glasses, which made him look political and academic. He looked concerned. He probably was concerned. He looked deep, but he was not Socrates

[mads-hemmo]

Baseball Boy- College AU

Baseball Player Schlatt x Sorority Girl Reader

Part 3

Schlatt moves down south to play baseball for a Division 1 school. At a party, he meets a girl who is the exact opposite of him. She’s a sorority girl who obviously has money and a very strong southern accent. She believes there is good in everyone and Schlatt isn’t as much of an asshole as he is letting on.

Part 1

Part 2

Part 4

Part 5

Schlatt’s Computer Science classes are not much different than the ones he took in New York. They are filled with nerdy guys who think they are better than everyone and rich guys who pay their way to get good grades. The only difference is that the class sizes are huge. It’s nice though because he can hide in the background and not worry about being called on.

Since the classes are mainly junior level, most people know each other, so they don’t bother talking to him. Exactly how Schlatt likes it. He wants to hide in the background as much as possible. His only goal here is to play baseball and that’s what he intends to do.

As he walks out of his lecture and sees that his friend Ted is calling him. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Schlatt asks, answering the call. Ted and Schlatt became friends when Ted moved to New York for college. Schlatt has been too busy with baseball and the semester starting to talk to his friends back home, so he’s glad Ted called.

“Oh good you’re alive. I thought you might have been taken by a pack of hillbillies and sold to a farm somewhere. Was about to call your local sheriff if you didn’t answer,” Ted rambles.

“I’ve just been busy with baseball you idiot. How’s New York?” Schlatt asks. He’s been missing it like crazy but he has to stick to the plan. He’s only here to play baseball.

“It’s good. Nothing much has been happening. It’s been weird without you here.”

“Shut up you softie. It almost sounds like you missed me.”

“I just said it’s strange you're not here, but I do miss you. We all do. How is it really down there?” Ted asks.

Schlatt thinks for a bit. It hasn’t been the worst thing ever. You have been sitting with him for the last few nights at dinners. He knew there was no way to get rid of you. You had taken some obvious pity on him. He hates to admit it, but it hasn’t been all that bad. He’s starting to get used to sitting by you. It’s become part of his daily routine. “It’s been okay. I’m missing New York, but I’m not absolutely suffering,” Schlatt tells him, not wanting to reveal his true feelings. That’s not the kind of guy he is.

“Any hot girls there that want to bang a nerdy baseball player?”

Schlatt rolls his eyes. Leave it to Ted to ask about girls. If Schlatt was brave, he’d mention you, the girl who sits him everyday at dinner. He has started to learn a bit about you and has learned your main goal isn’t to make fun of him. He learned you dress up everyday without fail. You smell sweet like vanilla which he only knows because you over apply your perfume. You’re an only child and your parents are a lawyer and a boutique owner.

However, Schlatt wants to keep that to himself, so he tells Ted, “No, even though this school is huge, none of these girls are my type.”

“Damn. I thought maybe you were just going to be a new guy and fuck every girl you meet to make your life there a little more exciting.” Ted has always been a lot more brash than Schlatt ever was. That’s what made them such a great pair.

“Nope. Like I said none of them are even worth my time even for a quickie.”

As Schlatt walks back to his dorm, he continues to talk to Ted about his classes, baseball, and listen to Ted blab about the people at his old school. Even if he’s not one for drama, it makes him miss his school in New York listening to Ted talk about people he barely knows.

They continue to talk for a while until Schlatt feels his stomach starting to rumble in hunger. He checks the time to see that it’s dinner time. Meaning that it’s the new favorite part of his new routine, but he would never admit that to anymore. “Alright Theodore, I’m getting hungry so I’m going to grab some dinner. I’ll talk to you later,” Schlatt tells him, walking towards the Cafe.

“Bye Schlatty. Love you lots! Don’t get into too much trouble without me,” Ted says. Schlatt rolls his eyes and hangs up his phone.

When he walks into the cafe, he sees you sitting at the small table you two have claimed the past few days. You are still dressed up like usual, but your hair is secured in a hair clip. One that he has seen his sister wear. He goes through the line, seeing they are serving fried chicken, macaroni and cheeses, and green beans. It’s finally food he has had before, so he decides to eat the “southern” food option.

Schlatt takes a seat in front of you. You flash him a smile and he hates how pretty you are to him. He’s trying to not think that way or get attached to you, but it’s proving to be difficult with each conversation. “Hi Schlatt,” you say with your southern drawl. “How were your classes today?”

“They were fine,” he answers. Though you have been very open with him, he’s still been slightly closed off. He’s starting to trust you more, but sometimes he struggles to find the words to say. He feels that if he lets you in, you may just break his heart and he can’t bear that. You have been the only friend he has made here and he doesn’t want to lose you. But on the other hand, he’s not here to make friends. He’s here to play baseball.

“That’s good. I bet it’s hard. I can do basic computer stuff, but I could never do all that coding. I’m not smart enough for that,” you tell him.

“It’s not that hard. Just a bunch of patterns and stuff. It’s not as hard as that Psychology, brain stuff you do,” Schlatt says.He knows your ultimate goal is to become a therapist and he just knows computer science is easy to compare to Psychology. Not only do you have to remember all the mental illnesses, you have to research and read about them. Then you have to apply that information to help real people.

“That’s why there’s not just one kind of intelligence. Everyone has their own specific set of skills that they succeed at.”

Schlatt always finds it endearing how you always make things positive, completely opposite to his pessimistic attitude. He also thinks it’s kind of funny to hear something so smart said by someone with such a southern accent. “I guess that’s true. How were your classes?”

You smile at him. Schlatt knows that you appreciate him opening up and talking a bit more. “They were slightly boring, mainly just lectures. How are you enjoying southern cuisine?” You ask, pointing to his plate.

Schlatt has taken a few bites through the conversation and it isn’t the worst thing ever. “It’s not bad. Better than that shitty excuse of a pizza.”

You let out a small giggle. “I told you. My freshman year when I didn’t like the food, I would make a waffle. Some days I made a waffle, just because I could. I probably should have made a salad at the salad bar, but a waffle was always better.”

“Thanks for the suggestion,” Schlatt says. He noticed your comment about the salad, but chooses to ignore it.

As the two of you are eating, Schlatt notices a random guy walk up to your table. He is the poster child of a frat guy. He is wearing a shirt with some Greek letters on the pocket with bright red shorts that are way too short. The guys turn to face you, not even looking at Schlatt. “Hey (Y/N), I haven’t seen you around much this semester.”

“Hi Fisher,” you say. Schlatt wants to laugh. What kind of southern ass name is Fisher? Also who the hell is this guy? “I’ve been busy with classes. Haven’t done much of anything else.”

“You know you’re always welcome to the house if you need to study or just want to watch a movie,” Fisher says. This guy is such a douche. Schlatt just knows it. “Well I wanted to make sure you were coming to the aliens and cowboys party this weekend.”

“I was planning to. Can I bring my friend?” You ask, motioning to Schlatt.

“Sure. He will just have to pay the $5 entry fee like every other dude. But a friend of (Y/N) is a friend of FIJIs.” He says. Schlatt has so many questions but he will wait to ask you when this dickhead leaves.

“Yep, he knows. Well thanks for the invite. It was nice seeing you,” you say. Schlatt watches as Fisher is at a loss for words.

“Look forward to seeing you there (Y/N),” Fisher says, winking at you as he walks away.

Schlatt looks over to you as you roll your eyes. “He’s such a douchebag. He’s been trying to get in my pants since freshman year. He doesn’t seem to get the hint that I’m obviously not into him,” you tell Schlatt.

“Why are you going to his party then?” Schlatt asks. He doesn’t understand why you would deal with that douche.

“His frat throws great parties and I usually get free perks since he’s so into me. Also I can pay for you to get in.”

“It’s okay. I can pay for myself.”

“So you’ll go?” You ask with that sweet smile and puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah I’ll go,” Schlatt replies. Schlatt knows you’re your own person, but something in him is saying he needs to protect you in case you get hurt. Even though he hates parties, he would go to all of them if it meant making you happy.

“Yay! You can dress like a cowboy! I have a cowboy hat if you need it.”

“I’ll go to the party, but I’m not dressing up. Especially not as a redneck.”

You give him a pout. “It’s a cowboy not a redneck. Those are two different things. I’m being an alien so we can match,” you suggest.

“I’ll think about it, but I probably won’t,” Schlatt says, as you give him a sad puppy face.

“Okay. As long as you think about it.” The two of you go back to eating your food. Schlatt knows that even though he told you no, he’s going to end up with a cowboy hat on his head Saturday night. Those damn puppy eyes are going to get him in trouble and he knows it.

A/N: sorry this took so long! I had some personal stuff going on! The next part will be at the party and actual romance stuff will happen lol!! Thank you so much for reading.

[contactlessdrivethru]

in seasons one and two, the colors of ted lasso are bright. vibrant. it’s one of the things that helped the show stand out when it first released - so many shows nowadays are dark, and i don’t mean in terms of their content. i mean in terms of their color grading. everything is muted, washed out, shrouded in shadow. ted lasso was the opposite of that. it was rich, colorful, to reflect the show’s optimism and inherent joy.

i first noticed it when the theme song rolled in s3e1, but the color grading has been different this season. user @strawberryswords mentioned it too, that the beginning of the season didn’t feel the same as the rest of the show, didn’t feel like a comedy, because ted wasn’t living in a comedy anymore! his depression was sinking into the foundation of the show, right down to the color grading. the team hasn’t felt like themselves all season, distracted by zava or by their losing streak, but this episode, they FINALLY figured themselves out.

and i GASPED. when the color grading was fixed. if you look for it, you can tell - after richard scores the goal against arsenal, the colors are vibrant again! the green of the pitch is warm and bright, the boys’ yellow kits are almost GLOWING. they figured it out. they’re a team again. multiple people have mentioned how episodes 6 and 7 have felt so much better than the beginning of the season, and that’s intentional!! after each of them individually being in some kind of funk, they have found their optimism again. ted lasso is once again about joy. and i’m so, so, so glad to see it.