#and I saw riiight through that lol

[public-slaughterhouse]

vigilance

Patrick Zweig x M. Reader

656 words

anyone can read, just b respectful

"cameronday1010 asked:

ok it could be dumb but I had an idea of PATRICK ZWEIG x male photographer reader.Patrick just keeps messing up his photos so his eyes and camera are just on him"

thank you for the request @cameronday1010 😼 i realize it might be a tiny bit different than the og. request but i hope you like it!! short and sweet lol

There were a few different people going up against each other, but the memory of your camera seemed to be mostly occupied by one player particularly, Patrick Zweig. Whether he was sitting down or running across the court, or eating a banana, you had a picture of it. Not to mention the instances where took off his sweaty sleeveless shirt and leaned back in his chair between sets, left in that stupid checkered pair of shorts that you couldn't help but think looked like something you'd wear to sleep... it didn't change the fact that you couldn't take your eyes off his thighs with the way it rode up with legs wide apart. Even better with the zoom your camera had.

Yeah, you had taken way too many pictures of this guy, even you knew that. You couldn't even excuse it as enthusiasm for the sport, you didn't know shit about tennis. You were just here to take some pictures, and that you did. In abundance. For a bit of money.   

You were back at the small lounge in the registration area, looking through the photos, hunched over at one of the tables when Patrick entered, too deep in your staring-at-pictures to notice.    

An amused smirk took over Patrick's face as he spotted you. Your camera didn't escape his notice throughout the sets, seeing as whenever his eyes strayed to comb through the audience, it was looking right back at him.  You also seemed rrreally focused on those pictures. So much so that he easily walked up behind you, hands in his shorts' pockets as he watched as you pressed the arrow button on your laptop over and over again. There was no shortage of photos of Patrick looking right back at the camera too,  clearly. It amused him to no end.  

"Good eyes out there man. Definitely got my best angles... like, all of them." he said as he stood behind you with a smile on his face, which only widened when he saw your shoulders jump the slightest bit at noticing him.   

Unable to help tensing up, you purse your mouth before your shoulders lower again, slowly turning around in your seat to see the tennis player stare you down with a self-satisfied grin.  

"A-ah... well, 's my job, you know how it is..."

"Oh, I definitely do." he nodded as he looked back at the photo you stopped at. It was another one of him, looking right back at you as he sat shirtless with his bottle in his mouth.

"Are those gonna be in the news too?"

"Uh, I mean... n-no, but... who knows what the reporters want, right? I gotta have a bit of variety..." 

"Riiight, right, I get it..." he nodded. 

With how lame his stay here promised to be at the start of the day, this was a way more entertaining use of his time, and an opportunity even if he played his cards right. Plus, you seemed pretty fun so far, it might be even something more. 

"You're gonna be here for the rest of the matches too, right?"

"...Yeah, of course, Donaldson is gonna be here too, that's like the only reason everyone's here." That was one name even you knew.

Ouch. 

"Yeah, right..."

"-Shit, sorry, I didn't mean it like that! It was uh, just, unexpected is all..."

He waved it off, smile back on his face again as quick as it went away. 

"Hey, don't sweat it, I get that... that's gonna be uh, fun, for sure."  

His eyes went up and down over you as you sat, just like yours did throughout the event, and you could feel yourself getting a bit hot under the collar. He must've just left the locker room after a shower, but you could still sense the slightest trace of sweat on him. You barely just met the guy and you were already on the brink of making a fool of yourself. 

And Patrick absolutely reveled in it, he was no fool. This was fun.

"...So-"

"You wanna come back to my place?" you blurted out, snapping your laptop shut.

"Yes, absolutely." 

[sunny-speaks]

Nerd (RIVAL!DACTED x Reader)

First Ren Fic of the new year let's go guys!

Lol, life's been pretty busy and I haven't had as much time to write as I wanted but I guess I have a new aspiration for 2024! Enjoy the fic!

Characters: [REDACTED]/[RIVAL-DACTED] from @14dayswithyou x reader !!

Quick summary: library date??? with [RIVAL-DACTED]??? even though hes a pain to you??? more likely than you would think-

--

You groaned into your hand, head starting to slump into the crook of your arm.

You loved academic validation and you were all for getting good grades and all, but…

Studying?

Always found a way to bore you somehow.

You were painfully poring over the midterm research that your postsecondary teacher and lecturer had assigned for your ‘Psychology in Modern Media’ course.

Sure, it was fun and all. But the exams were sooo boring and the prep material?

God awfully boring.

You took a sip from the drink that you got from the nearby coffee store, twirling the near-empty cup in your hand as you wistfully sighed.

High school was something you’d taken for granted, huh… Man, you'd kill to do those stupid assigned readings right now.

You could feel some form of fatigue taking over your body riiight before… “Angel? What are you doing here~?”

That cotton candy bastard showed up.

Ugh! You couldn’t get enough of him! (In a negative sense! In a negative sense!)

He was everywhere!

You spotted his annoyingly attractive face in that dumb coffee shop earlier when he winked at you and five people behind you nearly fainted.

That ridiculously hot face of his was giving you unwanted and unwarranted troubles! You wanted him gone.

He pulled up in that ridiculously tight black bodysuit and that white slasher hoodie of his with too many belts and buckles to keep track of. The same unfortunately went for his pants.

It’s like he was trying to show himself off! Ugh, he knew he was hot shit, didn’t he?!

You glared at him, frustration seeping through, “What do you want now, [REDACTED]? If it’s not your head on a spike, I’m good.”

He raised his arms in mock surrender, “Woah, what’s got you so worked up, Angel? Is it lonely at the top?” He’d let you top him in anything if you wanted… In class, in bed, whatever…

He looked so stupidly attractive with the way his hair framed his face, the way his grin sat perfectly on all his features, the little way his eyebrows creas—

“Ugh, just, shut up, will you?” You scoffed out at him then winced at your volume.

That was rude. Even for you.

You sighed, exasperated, slight guilt remnants on your face. “I- My bad… Just the… exam prep is confusing. And I don’t get it.”

He gave an inquisitive tilt of his head, “Which questions?” He slid into the seat beside you, leaning close enough for you to smell the faint traces of black coffee lingering on your clothes from your previous encounter. You tried to erase that ugly feeling when you saw him smile at a pair of girls from earlier.

(…Does he always smile like that to others?)

(Ha, yeah. Not like you’re anyone special…)

He smiled softly to himself as his breaths got deeper, trying to intake as much of your natural scent as he could. That was something he would always want more of...

(Those pathetic leeches from earlier left their stupid perfume lingering on his clothes… the only way to rid him of it was to sit closer to youuu <3)

Somehow, you were too preoccupied with your stupidly annoying questions to even berate his presence this time.

And if you were a little distracted by how close he was, that was no one else's business.

They’d been giving you way too much trouble for the past… half-hour or so.

You picked up the question sheet and pointed at the parts you didn’t understand, “So, I got what a sociopath should look like and covert signs in that dumb show I had to watch, and I know the ways to find sociopathic responses in someone, but how does that correlate with these random non-associated symptoms portrayed by this character?!”

You involuntarily leaned closer to him as you stabbed the piece of paper with an accusatory finger, frustrated. “I swear! The teacher hates me or something!”

[REDACTED] wouldn’t let it slide if the teacher actually hated you though… He’d ruin her reputation amongst colleagues while keeping her isolated from social media. They’d make all family members repulsed of her and willing to not contact her. And then they’d get her fired from her job. If she ever tried to get another job, he could easily fabricate a couple pieces of incriminating evidence from one of his crime scenes…

But he knew you would find it hot that he's confident in himself and that he's witty. So he wouldn't explain his plan just like that.

He grinned, a condescending quip on the tip of his tongue. “Maybe it’s just because I’m a hotter student.”

You spluttered in indignance, bewildered how he even thought of that. Was he insinuating he was hotter than you?! He might be right then... “Wh-What?! Asshole! Ugh!” Just as you were about to get up, he added onto his comment.

“Also, the answer’s right there.” He twirled a pen with his fingers, softly whistling to himself.

“Huh?!” You couldn’t believe it.

But he was right...?

You read the part he had underlined and circled and… the answer was there. That's... weird.

You didn’t have a clue on how you missed it! It drove you insane for so long, and for what?! For that stupidly sexy jerk to find it in one go?

You groaned reluctantly at the help. Maybe he wasn’t just… y’know, a piece of ass all the time... or a jerk. Maybe he was… kinda smart and nice. “Fine. Good job, I guess, asshat… Why’re you even here, god knows you don’t need to study. Like. Ever.” You eye up and down at his visible muscles that his outfit strains to keep compressed.

He pouts a little at the accusation. “Mm, even I study, angel. Might be hard to believe with a physique as good as mine, but I do take time to work on my studies.”

“Sure. And it was totally by chance that we saw each other at the coffee shop down the street. And that you study at the same library as me.” You drawled on, naming one coincidence after the other until [REDACTED] was subjected to some form of abject embarrassment. "What're you, a copycat?"

You paid that much attention to him? No one else… Just him?

Ooh, his heartbeat practically played hopscotch in his chest at the revelation! But no! He must remain calm and mean! Only for you!

They grinned slyly at you. “Angel, please. I would never even try to copy you. So it must’ve been your idea to imitate me, huh? Bet you stalk me or something,” He lied through their teeth, in the pathological way they were used to. They’d be lying if it wasn’t incredibly ironic.

“Hah, you wish.” Your nose twitched in annoyance. God, he was far too good at riling you up. “Whatever, what’s the answer to…”

And the two of you spent the rest of the day, bickering over answers.

Maybe [REDACTED] had earned a bit, a fraction, of your gratitude.

Maybe you were starting to like them a bit more.

But he’d never know that, it’s not like he reads your phone notes or messages or has cameras in your house.

…Right?

[after-nine-at-the-oasis]

OPE dang we starting out with some excitement

Hey guys!!

AH quick through everyone lol

Hi Owen!!

Hi Judd 🥰

Hi Mateo :))

Hi Paul :D!

Hi Tommy :)!

Hi Nancy 🥰!

Hi TK :DD

Ope hey kid :o

Oh no :(

OPE

??

Huh?

OHH it's a drill lol

"Maimed" XDD

Okay y'all chill lol

Owen must be feeling this one a bit extra though lol

Why y'all laughin so much xD

I mean I love you guys 🥰🥰 but

AWW Marjan 😭😭😭❤️🥰

I miss her <333

But ay Marjan mention :))

Ope 😳

I mean chill a bit Owen but yeah he's right xdd

Ahh yeah and Judd gets it <33

But yeah y'all were set up to fail, Judd's right

Yeeeah it is about the honor dogs lol

Ooh the dramaaa, not on the schedule or anything

OWEN

How many times do you have to learn NOT TO SHARE CONFIDENTIAL FBI INFORMATION WITH PEOPLE

I mean at least it's Judd but still

Ooope Owen

Owennn

What are you doing

OWENNNN XD

Is this the FBI?

OPE it's the building that blows up!!

Wait no it's the biker club :O

OWENNN

XDD sir lol

SLGJDHDKJGS code violations XDD aight go off lol

Oh wait

RIIIGHT they don't know, it's just that one guy :OO :D

Yooo aight aight xD

Aaaand there we go lol, Owen sees it

OPE HEY FBI XD

Her like "Owen????" XDD this man I swear lol

SLDJKFHDS YEAH SEE LIKE I SAID

STOP SHARING CONFIDENTIAL INFORMATION XDD

Anyway lol

Yeeeah he's getting escorted out xD

Lol yeah acting paranoid? Be serious xD

Ahh yes tell them, none of them really know anything

O P E

U H O H O.O

That ain't good 😬😬😬

And of course Owen's gonna go in there because a) he's Owen, b) pretty sure we saw him carry Agent Kacey (that's her name right?) out in the promo lol

[partyinthemysterymachine]

I'M CURIOUS AF WHO ARE THESE TWO MONSTERS NEAR POOR SCARED HARRY? 😳😳😳👀👀👀

SHAKES AND VIBRATES

oh!! oh you wish to know my monsters?? u wish to hear GOOMT's monsters?? WELL!!!! ha ha ha OOOHHH

OOH I'M GLAD YOU ASKED!!!

(no rly bless u, ilusm, thank u for asking and ur vested interest, i'm REALLY SUPER appreciative ❤️❤️❤️💖💖💖🥚🥚🥚🥚🥚)

and ofc, since u know i gotta, here is the obligatory link to my Harry/James glacial slowburn, Get Out Of My Town, and GOOMT’s corresponding blog for updates, aesthetics, art, and all that jazz!

NOW KEEP IN MIND: these are only descriptions of the monsters in the full picture i did here. there are others in the monster cast too, that are LOTS of barrels of fun, and VERY intricate and intriguing in their own way, just as the ones mentioned/following.

(the picture itself is a part of the GOOMT actor AU, where it’s all just a show, folks! (consider it to the likes of the Silent Hill blooper reel, which we were ROBBED OF in later games >:( 🔪 @ konami 5ever) and you can find its tag here.)

CONTENT WARNING: descriptions of child death, James Sunderland

JAMES SUNDERLAND 

James Sunderland is a stupid little idiot weasel and conduit of Silent Hill. he has so many problems and is not going to do anything about it because he’s a stupid and depressed little wanker who doesn’t have any rights, not that he ever did in his life. 

after the events of Silent Hill 2, James pitched himself into the lake but the town wasn’t gonna let him off easy. it had plans, and needs, for James. our boy here crawled right out of Toluca Lake after haphazardly (and illegally, but whatever; who’s gonna give him a ticket? .. yeah that’s what i thought) parking it in its depths and has remained in South Vale ever since. James sure darn well tried, but he cannot escape through death at his own hand, or otherwise. in fact, the monsters he (and we) have come to know and love have gradually become disinterested in him.

(as for Pyramid Head? huh! well, it’s weird; James hasn’t seen him around in quite a while.. hrm.. really gotta wonder what’s up with that.. ;3c )

what it means to be a conduit of Silent Hill, however, is a little complicated; but the baseline is that he’s Silent Hill’s little battery pack. it needs him and through fun time psychological (and physical, now and again.. but the monsters don’t wanna play anymore, for some reason..) torture, James does what he does best and wallows a sure hell of a lot, thus accumulating nutritious and scrum-diddily-umpious negative power for the town.

oh 👂 you ask, “and for what does it need it, and why James?” great question!

wouldn’t you like to know, weather boy?? ;) but you can read about it all riiight here, babey!!

ok ok jk jk (sorta lol) (bc i mean come on. ISN’T he a monster, tho......? ....hrrmmm hmm hmmmmm........ sources point to yes, if SH2 has anything to say about it, LOL)

let’s ACTUALLY start with my HONEST personal favorite:

THE MEMORY OF HARRY

(this monster was very aptly named by a good friend of mine - hi Gospel! - and so credit must be given where credit is due.)

ART BY capitán solsikke

(uncertain of where solsikke is keeping their public art contacts/social media now, so solsikke, if u happen to see this, pls drop ur deets so i can link back to u pls :< pls..)

FURTHER NOTE: to reduce the long post scrolling and bc tumblr’s image insertion format is horrid, i’m going to put additional art/links to the GOOMT blog posts for Memory of Harry, bc y’all REALLY gotta see the actual faithful renderings of him i also commissioned from capitán solsikke

the Memory of Harry first appeared at the end of GOOMT’s Chapter 27: Yeah, Me Neither. his description is as follows (and ADDITIONAL NOTE: Harry is, GOOMT-canonically, left-handed):

A lean man teetered on exhausted legs. Because his entry only allowed them to view him from the side, from that angle they saw he wore a brown leather jacket discolored by smoke stains and was torn at the shoulder. The jeans on his legs were tainted and ratty, and his shoes only held together by determination.

From what could be told of his profile, this man’s face had retained most of its features, despite the crusty, black skin covering every inch. His dark hair lay flat on his head, save for a wispy few strands that fanned loose over his brow. Misshapen scarring created a thick, blinding patch over his visible eye. And lastly, the reason his nonstop weeping was muffled was due to a mouth sewn shut so many times that it was replaced by nothing but a bulky, knotted mask.

But this visage was nothing compared to his cargo. In his hand he held a smaller one attached to a thin, tiny arm, of which was connected to the raw and burned corpse of a little girl. She was on her belly, her head hung like a sack of sand between her shoulders, obscuring her face, and her stringy, oily black hair dangling and swaying with every move the man made. On her body was a tattered blue dress, perhaps once long-sleeved as suggested by the remains of ripped fabric at her elbow, and black shoes over white socks patched by dried orange blood and char. Wherever she was forced to go, she left a wet streak of black and crimson in her wake.

James scrutinized this gruesome new monster hard while it shuffled directionless and wracked with demoralizing sobs. It didn’t seem to know they were there and moved at such a slow pace that James figured they were in no immediate danger. He looked at Harry for guidance.

Harry, however, was in no state to do anything but remember how to breathe. His face was contorted in grief and oddly, recognition. James eyed him, somewhat disturbed by it but moreso uncertain, then took his stare back to their visitor.

The victim of a fire unknown changed his direction, somehow having noticed they were there and faced them. Wherever it could be seen, his skin was indeed blackened, cracked, and flaking like bark, and revealed that both of his eyes were blindfolded by the scarring. Beneath the leather jacket, which sported a broken replica of their flashlights, was a sweater vest that bore a royal blue color somehow notable under the charcoaled damage. It was frayed at the hems and layered over a shirt that was once white. But now that he had confronted the resident and veteran full on, James could have never been prepared for what brought it all together:

The bereaved’s left hand which, until now, had been hidden on his other side, was not empty - and never could be. His arm hung lifeless and his fingers welded, forever clutching, a long, rusted, and bloody steel pipe.

James’s lips parted, and his heart dropped like lead straight through the floors.

Neither moved, and the man, at his snail’s pace, sought to meet them. The next garbled cry caused Harry to twist his bludgeon so hard in his white-knuckled fists that his arms briefly trembled. Each step drew the walking corpse a little bit closer, and still, they couldn’t find their feet. With the pieces having fallen together, the implications of what was before them pulled the ropes in James’s stomach tight enough to make him vaguely nauseous.

James heard himself utter a whisper of his companion’s name. His voice seemed to shake Harry out of his stupor, and in time to choke back sob of his own before it began.

He didn’t even feel his vocal cords nor his tongue move when he spoke again. “Is that..”

“It’s me,” Harry said thickly. “Yeah. That’s me.”

===

he was, considering his importance, intended to be used sparingly - and he is. this monster is (thus far, and understandably,) Harry’s least favorite monster, lmao. Harry would really rather this guy Didn’t, but hey - ain’t nobody here that’re gonna let HIM call the shots any time soon!! 

the Memory of Harry is an extremely foreboding warning and tale on two legs. he is also 100% capable of ruining Harry’s day in a pinch, just by existing. 

(Harry really doesn’t like to think about him.)

CRYING, BURNING WOMAN

(who is taking a moment out of her day to T-pose to get her point across; and of whom has not yet been properly rendered in art form BUT I’M WORKING ON FIXING THAT 👀 @ all local artists with commissions open)

this monster tends to travel in packs of two or more. she’s first seen alone, and is the debut monster in GOOMT’s story, in Chapter 5: Stop Stopping

From the fog emerged a staggering, loose-limbed creature that was closer than either of them had anticipated. It shuffled on buckled legs, its ropey arms swinging carelessly in the momentum. The head drooped on its neck, masking its face from everything but the asphalt, and they ought to be grateful for it. The entirety of this abomination was ravaged in sickening swirls of exposed muscle, black rot eating away at its flesh, and raw, peeling skin. Like most of the hell creatures in Silent Hill, it was an impossibility. The thing moved as though it was treading through tar, but these two were wise to the fact that that shouldn’t be undermined.

The stench of it reached them as soon as they saw it, triggering bile washing up Harry’s throat, and gritted disgust on James’s face. It smelled of charred meat forgotten in an industrial oven fueled by sulfur and was heavy with the unmistakable odor of wet, moldy clothes. Every breath it took sounded labored and painful, and vaguely feminine. In its wake were slicks of thick blood, and if they dared to be any more observant, flung drops of blood from its stiff fingertips as the arms swayed.

she’s seen again, in Chapter 10: Turn Around, Look At What You See

The smell reached them. It was the same they’d experienced before: burnt flesh and moldy clothes. Harry remembered what she looked like, how her arms swung and her spine could barely support her. Her flesh had been peeling, burnt to the bone in some places, and her head hung to conceal her shame. It sounded like there were more than one of these tortured women - perhaps two or three. 

and in Chapter 11: The Pocket Travel Guide To Silent Hill, James reflects upon them - and one other.

There were the crying, burning women, and the creature made of static and fumes. The former were forever smoldering, blighted by singed holes in their baked flesh, and dripped black, acidic ichor. Some were bald, their scalps incinerated, and others had long black hair that was both wet and decorated with kindling flames. When they staggered, their faces were obscured by the way their heads hung on broken necks, and when dead, Harry and James rolled them over to unearth the fact that their eyes were blinded by melted skin and their mouths silenced by a red square made of steel. How their screams were audible from behind the plates, they didn’t know. Their bodies reeked of gasoline and scorched wood. 

===

(sensing a pattern, here? >;) )

now in that, there’s mention of a “creature made of static and fumes”. she is not pictured, and has a different appearance - and she’s a radio mimic. the radio (huh.. radio..... what’s going on with that radio.....? is it broken...?? hrm. better take it anyway) mimic.

as you can imagine, she’s also one of Harry’s beloved favorites. ;3c

and finally, however quite (so far) unfairly depicted and appearing MUCH later into the story:

THE LOST BOY (1 of 2)

his (and his better(?) half’s) first appearance comes in Chapter 54: Touché

And before one could say “knife”, galloping, meaty claps on vinyl tile heralded the proper, and fashionably late, introduction of the quadrupedal couple. Upon emerging into the artificial headlights, however, they recoiled. At once, and reminiscent of their earlier behavior on the security monitor, Harry and James watched them volley apart. Furthermore, their emotions seemed to be unchanged from the scene with the girl in the corridor.

Demonstrating that behavior in person sowed the seeds of interest, for as intimate as they seemed to be, they also showed signs of having a mysterious, innate fear of being seen together. The predators chose their quarry and took sides on an archer’s bow. During their slow, deliberate advance, they verified the surmised size discrepancy as correct  - and the larger made James its target.

Its hunched skeleton made it hard to decipher its entire build, but anyone could see that it boasted the hallmarks of an athlete: lean, sturdy, balanced, and if it stood on its legs, would probably surpass the six foot mark. In contrast, its partner, who had business with Harry, posed an all around average height and body type. As far as fitness went, this was one that strongly hinted it preferred the bleachers, as there was barely any muscular definition on it at all.

Other than that, the pair’s bodily design was nothing special. Moist and raw burns covered their unpalatable topography from head to toe, mapping out ice cream swirl streets hued in apricot and ripe peach, and pronouncing the sewage brown lagoons dotting them like Dalmatians. Their figures were ugly to be sure, but they weren’t the focus - their faces were.

At one side of the mouth, a necrotic, flat, fabric string vertically secured the starting base of a pattern. It was a simple motif, too: laced shoes. Criss-crossing over the lips and tunneling north and south through septic punctures ringed by crystalized pus eyelets, the strings wove impenetrable diamonds all the way to the other side, triple-knotted in gunky yellow paste, and the uneven ends left dangling. Once upon a time, these mouths must’ve had something to say, or needed to say; but none were permitted to listen. They, like all other fiends, were victims of silence.

Harry and James didn’t much care for the trendy, stringent enforcement of ‘silence is the best policy.’ A while ago, Harry, at least, began to suspect that there was significance behind each individual, unique means; granted, the allegation seemed like no-brainer. All aside, the two here helped build his case.

He’d chew on it later.

Two slanted holes pretended to be a nose, and above them sat two anomalous eyes.  One visualized the world through an eternal squint, the eye semi-obscured by a grafted skin bandage. The second, in juxtaposition, told further tale of torture. Stapled to brow and cheek were the upper and lower lids, stretched beyond capacity to plate the living, twitching centerpiece netted in spider silk threads. Firetruck red painted the inverted inner lids, and by merciful grace of the monster’s exotic biology, the socket and orbit glittered from moisture that preserved its functionality.

===

RUBS NASTY LITTLE FLY HANDS

ooh, this pair - OOOH, this P A I R. i LOVE this double trouble. i was VERY excited to introduce them, because they are A TREAT. these boys are a first for GOOMT’s story for being boys, so gosh..... gosh, ho hum hrmmm hmm mmmmrmmm hrrrrmmmm, wonder what that could mean??? 

>;3c

but yeah, as you can see - their details are quite immense and uhhh.. all we got up there right now is zombie Orange Julius lookin’ out for his next big orange to squeeze. soon, buddy.... don’t worry, my guy; soon.....™️

aaaaand THAT is THAT ON THAT!!! 

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR INTEREST IN MY MONSTERS OF GOOMT, AND GOOMT ITSELF 😭😭😭😭 WORDS CANNOT DESCRIBE MY THANKS AND JOY (despite the 232,398 of them in GOOMT so far but eh, who’s counting)

forreal tho THANK YOU so much for your ask and your curiosity, it means the absolute world to me and i’m shoving it into my mouth and storing it in my cheeks. GOOMT is the love of my entire life and also my bane of existence and i LOVE talking, and sharing aspects of GOOMT* for all that will listen :3c

*except for lore, future planning and scenes, and things not otherwise already published because i am a VERY superstitious writer and VERY cautious of what, and to whom, i share. i won’t answer questions or talk about GOOMT’s lore and planning to anyone - not even Ren, my best friend and patient editor since ch10, who doesn’t even go here. so rest assured, it’s not (the royal) you; it’s me. 😔

AND NOW since you’ve either made it or scrolled to the end, the detailed depictions of the Memory of Harry by capitán solsikke under the cut, and their original posts from GOOMT’s blog:

POST FOUND HERE

POST FOUND HERE

AND BONUS ROUND: ACTOR AU

POST FOUND HERE

[seeminglyseph]

I actually want to make a bigger thing of this so you can make fun of me. I've been reading summaries of myths written in the modern day, so a lot of them list Dionysus going to war or conquering India. Which in my little tired not thinking about real geography and politics went "shit that's weird gonna write around that" and carried on. Then there's a piece where Ariadne died

And I was like "why is Perseus fighting Dionysus?" Because I am reading summaries first and then segments because there's a lot of information to take in.

Then I saw it referred to as the "Greco-Persian" war and I was like "oh riiight Persia. Istanbul is not Constantinople and all that. Got it."

And then it still took me reading "Pereus founded Persia" for me to click "oh fuck he's fighting Dionysus because he's leading Indian forces. Which were Persian forces but got translated probably?"

So you can all laugh at my complete inability to understand or comprehend obvious things.

That still doesn't explain how Perseus is here when I think Heracles is also there and Perseus is like his great-great-grandfather as well as brother because Zeus? Some sources say Heracles was like 800 when he died maybe Perseus was similar?

Learning is a prolonged process of not knowing things I feel like I should know... and then understanding better things I already thought I knew.

Let's go on an adventure through ignorance together lol

[rainbowchip2003]

“and you’re ugly, just like your mom”

for @misslivvie !

word count: 1646

november 2nd, 2019

10:25am

*third person*

it was a typical morning in casablanca plaza. all of the staff had gathered in, and were going through their opening routines. in wild side inkorporated, it was so quiet, you could hear a pin drop. vince is always the last to show up, so it was just the tattoo artists for now. luna was making today’s playlist, while billy scribbled a design on some scrap paper. lennon, a nonbinary newbie, sanitized their station.

“what day is it?” billy asked lennon. 

“saturday.” they confirmed as they checked the clock. billy’s eyes drifted to the side in realization, while luna ran a hand through her multicolored mane.

“oh, shit.” she whispered.

“what?”

“we never told you this, but vince brings his daughter to work on the first saturday of each month!” lennon chuckled at the mental picture of the two hiding from a little kid.

“i’m sure it’s nothing to worry about?” the rookie giggled once more.

“imagine veruca salt but, like, maybe 5% less stable.” just then, vince came in with his daughter, liesl, ready for a new day at the tattoo parlor. liesl had her mom’s auburn waves, and her dad’s smile. she stared at her tablet, ears covered by a pair of lol surprise headphones. liesl even had a small, glittery purse shaped like a unicorn!

“morning!” vince waved before taking off his leather jacket, and helping liesl with her pink coat.

“good morning, vince!” the artists chimed in nearly perfect unison. the ginger never looked up from whatever was on her screen.

“...and liesl.” luna muttered. lennon took the opportunity to introduce themselves; they bent down to her level, and put on their friendliest voice.

“nice to meet you, leisl!” they said with a warm grin.

“...hi.” liesl greeted. unlike most children her age, she seemed unfazed by their punk appearance.

“i don’t think we’ve met; my name is lennon!” lennon put out their hand to shake, which she accepted.

“lemon?” the little girl asked.

“no, lennon, with an “n”.” they laughed it off, it was a common mistake.

“daddy, how much longer until the shops open?” liesl already started her whining kick.

“riiight about…” vince looked at the giant clock on the wall, only seconds away from opening time. “now!” at last, it finally struck 10:30, and casablanca plaza was officially open!! “here’s $20, go crazy.” vince handed her three $5 bills, and five singles. 

liesl let out a cheer as she ran out the door. whether her father was being sarcastic was a mystery; but alas, she took his word as gospel. in vince’s eyes, $20 was nothing; but to any six year old, it was winning the lottery! ironically, there was a patch on vince’s jacket that read “greatest father in the galaxy” under liesl’s birthdate.

she blended in with the first flood of shoppers just fine. liesl only gets to visit casablanca once a month, so she has to make the most of every trip. how does she do so, you ask? nothing much, she just makes people’s day a living hell. no one questions vince on why he lets his young daughter run around unsupervised. 

liesl’s first stop was thunderbolt coffeehouse, where she has her own signature drink. the beverage in question is 6oz of water mixed with the tiniest splash of white chocolate syrup. because it’s basically nothing, liesl only had to pay a dollar. having just opened, tommy was the only person in the store.

“good morning, liesl! the usual?” he adjusted his burgundy visor with a lightning bolt sewed on it.

“you know it!” she left a dollar on the counter to pay. tommy prepared liesl’s first of many mall treats. behind the display case, liesl noticed some brown and orange squares sitting atop a doily. “what are those?”

“pumpkin cheesecake bars.”

“i want one!” she demanded as she tapped the sneeze guard.

“you’re only allowed your special drink.” tommy said softly, yet firmly: “ ‘cause you nearly bought the place out, remember?” he referred to her first visit, where she blew all her money on thunderbolt fare, and didn’t finish most of it.

“can’t you make one exception for your favorite customer?” even liesl’s best puppy eyes weren’t charming enough for him!

“i’m afraid not.” luckily, tommy has more patience for her than anyone else in the mall.

“you’re so inconsiderate!” leisl scoffed as she folded her arms.

“it’s just what your dad told me-” tommy sighed.

“and you’re ugly, just like your mom.”

“sorry to hear that, have a free cheesecake bar.” he forked over the seasonal goodie, knowing mr. simmons would freak if he caught him. but hey, if it’ll get the twerp to zip it! she swallowed one bite of the pumpkin bar, and shoved it into her purse.

on her way to poisonous novelties, she saw that dee, her youth group leader, was here! she went over to his little cart, where he handed out pamphlets promoting the church.

“hi, mr. snider!” she doesn’t often see him anywhere other than the chapel.

“hi, liesl!” although she was the problem child of dee’s youth group, he still treated her with the same amount of respect as anyone else. “excited for service? as a belated halloween treat, we’re watching wishbone in the legend of sleepy hollow!”

“never heard of it.” liesl shrugged.

“i used to watch wishbone as a kid; i think you’ll like it.”

“are you giving out zebra cakes, or oatmeal pies after?” part of the only reason she even bothered going to service was because of the snacks dee would hand out.

“popcorn!” 

“ooh, i can’t wait!” “i’ll see you tomorrow!” dee waved to her, and went back to work. if only dee knew how she treated everyone else....

she went up the escalator, and ran into the candy store so fast, she didn’t notice bobby sitting behind the counter! her main priority was getting as many sweets as she could while staying within her budget.

“did you have a fun halloween?” he attempted to make some friendly small talk.

“yeah, i went as butterbean!” she boasted as she got a paper bag, “my costume had shoes, and wings, and even a wig!”

“that’s so cool!” bobby started to approach the young girl. “i, uh, was barney, the purple dinosaur!” he lied. the poisonous novelties gang actually went as steel panther, with him as lexxi. leisl was barely listening, as she wasted no time shoving random stuff to the bag. “don’t you still have halloween candy?”

“traded most of it.” suddenly, liesl reached into the container of marshmallow bananas, and started picking out the fluffiest ones with her bare hands! 

“can you not-”

“nobody eats these anyway!”

“you didn’t use the tongs, so you have to pay for that entire thing!” he wished he could be as intimidating and strong as bret, but didn’t have the confidence.

“how much?” at this point, liesl found it was best to accept her fate.

“$15.”

“can i keep them?” she asked as she handed bobby some wadded up dollars. his lips widened into an almost taunting smile, and just shook his head no.

liesl made her way to the foodcourt; she had just enough money for a basket of cheese fries. she topped the greasy goodness with ketchup, regular and lite mayo, and barbeque sauce. she walked to kiss kosmetics, on the other side of the mall, as she ate. liesl stood outside the door to find vinnie texting, while paul helped a customer match their foundation.

“you need to finish that before you go inside!” vinnie exclaimed, setting down his phone. the basket wobbled in her hand as she carried it with only four fingers. 

“i’ll be careful, i promise!” as predicted, liesl tripped over nothing and fell face first. she dropped the unholy sauce with a side of fries onto the once pristine white tiles. liesl rolled onto her back on the floor, and whined like she was half her age.

“if you think you’re getting out of here scottfree, you are sorely mistaken!” although paul didn’t have kids, he went full dad mode!

“i do what i want!!” liesl stamped her feet in exasperation. she made such a scene that someone started to leave!

“i’m calling your dad!” paul had both parents on speed dial, just in case. saturday used to be his favorite day of the week, but thanks to her, it’s thursday!

“get to cleaning.” vinnie rested some napkins and a spray bottle of tile cleaner on her stomach.

liesl dragged herself up and hastily began to pick up her mess.

“yeah, vince? this is paul; you’ll never believe what your daughter did today!” the tantruming redhead slammed the bottle on the floor. “we keep telling her not to come in with food, and she did anyway! she dropped whatever she was eating, and now she’s refusing to clean up.”

“i’m getting grounded for falling?” liesl threw her head back.

“you don’t think i know about what happened at the candy store?”

“what’d she do?” vince asked on the other line.

“i got a text from bobby saying that she took out all the marshmallow bananas with her hands. your wife needs to pick her up before she causes any more chaos.” 

“put her on.” paul came out, and brought the phone to her ear. “liesl, what did i tell you about manners?!” 

“there weren’t any signs…”

“you don’t need signs, you need common sense!” paul rolled his eyes.

“you march to the parlor, get your jacket, and you’re getting in mom’s car without a fight, do you hear me?!” 

“yes, daddy…” she sniffled. “bye, guys.” leisl hung her head as she left the store pathetically sobbing.

“good riddance!” paul sighed in relief, more than proud of himself for successfully setting the little brat straight.

[idolish7rabbitchats]

Izumi Mitsuki: White Day Rabbit Chat Part 4

Tsumugi: Mitsuki-san, really good work with being the MC for the White Day live stream…! It was a fun studio where everyone was laughing!

Mitsuki: It was because the guests were hyped too! It was thanks to the staff who worked flexibly!

M: As expected of TRIGGER, they were calm. We have to learn from watching them huh! Especially even though Tsunashi-san was liked by the actress and female entertainer, he was responding to them casually, it was cool!

T: It’s a feeling that’s expected of TRIGGER-san huh! But everyone was as cool as them too!

M: I’d be happy if their hearts pounded! On the phone I was the one who was happier though lol

T: The person who talked with Mitsuki-san on the phone was a housewife huh. She said after she saw the variety show at noon where Mitsuki-san appeared, she follows Mitsuki-san!

M: Seems like she recorded and watches the show so much! On today’s live broadcast she said she was happy I was the MC, as happy as if it had been her!

T: I was agreeing without thinking when she said, “Talking with Mitsuki-kun, it becomes a cheerful atmosphere and it feels fun”!

M: I was super happy to hear a real comment that she was thinking of me!

T: I was also happy that Mitsuki-san was praised! Others were making nice facial expressions when they were talking directly with the fans!

M: It was a good corner huh! Somehow Iori getting embarrassed and making an embarrassed face even though it was a live broadcast was cute!

M: Yamato-san tho, he acted like usual but he was definitely happy! His lips were smiling. He did fanservice by saying Nemesis’s famous line!

T: I’m really glad everyone was able to have a fun shoot!

M: Riiight! It became a good White Day.

*T: Do you have memories of White Day?

M: I remember the smell of flour and sugar around this time. Because I was making return sweets every year lol

M: Speaking of, did Manager get some White Day gifts?

T: Yes! I got some from everyone…! I’m really grateful...

M: I also prepared a return gift!

T: E-Even Mitsuki-san..! I made Valentine’s Day gift for everyday’s return gift, so I’m afraid of you all taking care of me...

M: It’s fine though, I wanted to give it to you.

T: Is that so..? Sorry, but I’m happy!

M: Actually I’ve already arrived close to the company!

T: Mitsuki-san has? Ah, it’s true!

M: I could see Manager from the blinds lol. Sorry, can you come out a sec?

V2:

M: I’m really glad everyone was able to have a fun shoot!

T: How was your situation?

M: I’m glad that I could make something that grabbed their hearts through their stomachs! I’m really disappointed that I can’t tell them the smell and flavor!

M: Speaking of, did Manager get some White Day gifts?

V3:

M: I’m really glad everyone was able to have a fun shoot!

T: Whose situation did you enjoy?

M: I thought it was unexpected that Nagi wants to give them handmade cookies and then he choose a Kokona shape as usual, so I thought he’s stable lolol. And, the cafe from Yamato-san’s video was actually a cafe I wanted to go to!

M: Speaking of, did Manager get some White Day gifts?

[europeanguy]

Some Kind of Magic

Pairing: Shane x Platinum!MC (Veronica/ “Ronnie”)

Words: >2k

Rating: G, Fluff

Summary: Shane and Ronnie reminisce about 2006 and Shane is a being a big melt

A/N: many many thanks to @pixieferry for “beta-ing” this, without whom this drabble would be one huge yikes. Thank you for all your help and all the encouragement 💛 I forgot to ask you about titles so this will do HAHAHA

tagging @8im8the8one bc she ships this and has good taste LMAO

“Do I look okay?” Veronica turns to Shane, then turns back again to the mirror. She pouts and points at the nearly invisible dark circles under her eyes - even Shane couldn’t lie, no amount of concealer can hide the hours upon hours they spent awake brainstorming for her Christmas album. “God, I look like a zombie.”

“But a very pretty - albeit a little tired - zombie.” Shane snorts from his place on the bed from the other side of the room. But she did look pretty, with or without a scary professional stylist who micromanages her everyday clothing choices. “Did Zadie pick that out?”

“Yeah, oh my god, you should have seen her face when she saw me packing this skirt in an overnight bag.” Veronica smooths out her maxi skirt, then cuffs and uncuffs her sweater sleeves. “I can’t believe I kept you up all night writing lyrics with me.”

“I’ll be alright… I’m worried about you, though. Do your fake dates always have to be this early?”

“Dinner is kind of teetering in the danger zone, if you know what I mean.” Veronica winks at the mirror as she ruffles her brown bangs. A non-awkward silence slips in, seconds ticks by before they burst into laughter. “Fiona just said dinner is too romantic at this point, okay?”

“Riiight… we can’t have you munching on oysters in dim lighting with Raleigh Carrera, cause you just might jump him.” Shane bites his lip to stifle his laughter. He almost feels a sense of deja vu - as if they were eight again laughing under the pillow fort that they always build in her parent’s living room. It’s as if this has happened before, except now they’re older and miles away from home - still somehow together.

“Ugh!” Veronica groans in frustration and walks over to Shane’s bed, collapsing beside him. Her weight makes the mattress dip as she tries to find a comfortable position. She ends up squeezed next to him, arms crossed. “I don’t even like him like that.”

Shane nods, closing his eyes. “It does suck that your first relationship is with a hot famous guy, Ronnie.”

Veronica smirks and burrows her cold feet under Shane’s legs.

“Eeee!” Shane squirms away. “What’s that for?!”

“That was for sassing me,” Veronica shrugs. “Speaking of fake relationships, weren’t you my fake husband?”

Back then, it was for a little movie he was shooting with his dad’s camera. That was when Shane fully realized that he’s into the whole concept of telling stories through film, so it’s only obvious that the star of all his projects would be Veronica - who also happens to be the only actress he can find that’s willing to work for candy. Everett, Veronica’s older brother, promised to play the officiant role but bailed at the last second - so they had to be creative and use their teddy bears.

“Damn, you really upgraded.” Shane still remembers that summer and how upset Veronica was when she found out that Shane already ate his ring pop wedding ring.

“Not really,” Veronica shrugs. “I mean, I don’t think he’d re-tie my shoes for me for a whole month until I figured out how to do it myself.”

“Oh my god, you still remember that?” Shane covers his face in embarrassment. “I think you realized you had to do it yourself when I accidentally tied your shoelaces together and you landed flat on your face.”

“Accidentally.” Veronica makes air quotes, earning a scoff from him.

“I was four!”

“I miss that playground… not how the sand tastes though.” Veronica smiles. “Are you coming back home for Christmas?”

“I don’t know, honestly.” Shane sighs. “Mom and Dad are already bugging me about booking plane tickets. Apparently she needs my help to convert a bunch of home videos she found in our attic.”

“Please tell me I’m invited! I want to rewatch all our movies!” Veronica sits up.

“That’s already a given.” Shane stretches his arms then proceeds to feel around the bed for his phone. “Huh… mom just sent me a video.”

Dear Shane,

Dad and I figured it out, but you still have to come home, I know for a fact that you’re not eating well at your dorm… I can tell from your Pictagram pictures. Please tell Ronnie we miss her and we’d love for her to spend the holidays with us. Love you sweetie.

LOL,

Mom

Shane bursts out laughing at his mom’s use of LOL - and the fact that his mother follows him on Pictagram.

“What is it?” Veronica lies back, scooting closer to Shane so she could peek at his phone’s screen. “Aww, I miss your mom too.”

Underneath the message is an attachment of a video, with a slightly blurry, and hauntingly familiar, thumbnail.

“Is that-?”

“Oh god. Oh no. Oh my god-” Shane tries to scramble away but Veronica’s prying hands are too quick, and she snatches the phone away from him.

Veronica taps the play button and instantly, hundreds of voices and clapping meld together into unintelligible noise and the video slowly focuses on the stage as an older student shuffles to the microphone stand. 

“I now have the pleasure of announcing the final act of the Winter Talent Show,” they start a little too loudly, sending feedback throughout the auditorium. “Please welcome Shane and Ronnie as they sing Way Back Into Love!”

The announcer runs offstage and the stage lights flicker on as the curtains open, revealing a ten-year-old Shane and Ronnie by his side - both terrified. Shane remembers that moment when Ronnie couldn’t let go of his hand. The auditorium is silent and whoever is taking the video sniffs.

“Look at us!” Veronica coos at the screen, and just in time the video zooms in to their faces as they step forward to the mic stand. The announcer runs back with a spare microphone and stand for Shane, gives the two kids an encouraging nod before awkwardly running off. Shane looks at Ronnie and they finally let go of each other’s hands to get in position.

The first few notes of the song starts in a soft piano instrumental, and little Ronnie closes her eyes as if to take a breath. She opens her eyes and looks at Shane for reassurance, the uncertainty slowly fading from her face. She sings, softly at first.

I’ve been living with a shadow, overhead. I’ve been sleeping with a cloud above my bed. I’ve been lonely for so long, trapped in the past I just can’t seem to move on.

“Noooo, no no-” Shane grabs a pillow and buries his face in it, trying to drown out his own voice as he sings Hugh Grant’s parts in monotone.

“You weren’t that bad!” Veronica pokes his side as she continues to watch the video.

All I wanna do is find a way back into love.

Ronnie’s voice carries them throughout the whole performance, making both of them sound good.

“I still don’t know how you do that.” Shane tosses the pillow off his face, giving up and decides to watch the video again.

“Do what?” Veronica can’t stop smiling as she watches them finish the song and excitedly hug on stage as the crowd breaks into applause.

“That whole angelic voice thing.” Shane says oh-so-casually, hoping she doesn’t notice the tell-tale blush on his cheeks. 

As the video comes to an end, little Shane and Ronnie hold hands as they walk backstage amidst the applause. Her hands were cold and clammy from nerves, not that he ever cared if her hands were sweaty or sticky with candy. 

“That was so cute.” Veronica wipes her eyes, handing Shane’s phone over to him. “I love you, you know.”

Shane nods, trying not to put too much meaning in her words. “I know.”

“No, really,” Veronica sighs. “You didn’t really want to be on stage but it was my first time performing in front of a crowd that big, so when I asked you to sign up with me and you agreed, no complaints.”

“Well thanks to me we didn’t win, so.” Shane grins. A week after the talent show he gave Ronnie a trophy out of empty tissue rolls held together by glue. 

Veronica sighs exaggeratedly and chuckles. She shifts position, locking her eyes onto his. His mouth goes dry. Was his best friend, since they were four, making heart eyes at him? Nah, he must be hallucinating. 

He tries to squelch that weird flip-flopping in his stomach, whatever the hell it is. Tries to ignore the subtle scent of her shampoo, not quite masked by her perfume, and it takes him back to when they were ten with asters in their hair. Don’t stare at her soft lips - shit too late, too late. They’re inching closer, her breath is warm on his skin and everything’s tingling and

Riiiing!

Both of them nearly jump out of their skin when her phone starts ringing, cutting through the thick tension in the air. Veronica scrambles to get her phone and Shane’s cheeks ignite as he sits up to put some distance between them.

“Hank’s downstairs,” Veronica rolls her eyes and smiles, “Time to show up at fake brunch.”

“Duty calls!” Shane stands up and clears his throat, suddenly feeling awkward. Oh god. That was so unnatural just now. What’s wrong with you, Shane?  “So uh, I’ll walk you out?”

Veronica slips her socks on, quickly shuffling around the room to shove her stuff back into her bag. “Sure!”

“Wait, don’t forget this!” Shane fishes under his duvet for her lyrics notebook, then follows Veronica who’s already hurried out of his room. Shane spots something pink at the corner of his eye, but ignores it as he jogs down the stairs of their shared loft. After Veronica slips on her boots, Shane hands her the notebook.

“Oh my god, thank you.” Veronica takes the notebook and gives him a tight hug. “Hang soon, okay?”

“O-Okay!”

Shane watches as she rushes down the hall to the elevator. She flashes him an uncharacteristically shy smile while waiting for the elevator to reach their floor. It reaches them with a soft ding, and Shane’s stomach drops as his roommates step out - looking confused when they come face to face with Veronica. Veronica gives them a sheepish grin as she steps in the elevator, looking at Shane one last time before the doors close.

Tucker looks back at the closed elevator and back at Shane - who simply shrugs in innocence.

“That was… that was-”

“I thought you guys wouldn’t be home until Sunday?” Shane nonchalantly types a text to Veronica as he steps aside to let his roommates in.

You left your wig 😂😂😂

“Do not change the subject right now.” Tucker lugs his suitcase inside. “That person who obviously just came out of our place-”

“My friend-Ronnie? Yup.”

Shane’s phone pings with a text.

Looks like you have some explaining to do 😂

Another A/N:

1. Ronnie is my Open Heart MC’s (Everett) little sister, she’s 23 and he’s 27.

2. honestly that’s it my mind is already blanking its almost 2 HAHA

3. Oh YEAH I almost forgot to talk about that edit…

4. I feel like Shane turned out as a cute kid but man…. Ronnie was looking a lot more demonic in the previous versions (I used to ILITW MC kids + their faces, not unlike my TRR edit with the TE MCs + the gang)

5. anyway i know i said i quit writing but this just stemmed from me needing Shane x MC content and not finding any so I took it upon myself to just make them lol (also Way Back Into Love is kind of my recent song obsession)

6. I just love hugh grant okay

7. okay bye

[randomxiu]

-

[criminal-sen]

Wow holy shit, my terrible few days of 'how the fuck did all these gnats get in my house' (answer: they fit through the window screens) has been followed by an even more baffling repeat except this time with flies. I killed like 20 fucking flies today and there are still more. My windows, as I just pointed out, have SCREENS in them so how the fuck are they getting in? Are they coming in from under the door? Through the vents? Whatever it is, I hate it:)

Also I wasnt gonna put this here but I saw it sitting in the photo select at the bottom. And I was like 'oh riiight that poor fool who spent sg cards on Lucius lol'. Not gonna tag this cuz I dont really like picking on ppl.. but like. I see this shit a lot lol. Ppl really out there just throwing away their sg cards like it's nothing🙄

[theseventeenthcentury-blog1]

Sounds 18 July 1987

FELT FORUM

Meet infamous Brummie recluse LAWRENCE who lives in a cave and devotes all his energies to writing songs for his group FELT. But has he no other interests in life? asks ROY WILKINSON. Photograph GREG FREEMAN

WELCOME TO one hour in the life of Lawrence. The pop star with no surname and undisputed tenure of the WBC (Wacko Barrett-Cope) pop eccentrics' belt.

As this is an interview we'll be needing a venue so, Lawrence, how about a pub?

"Naah, I hate pubs. In fact I haven't been in one for over three years."

What about a cafe?

"No, it's just that, well, everyone stares at you."

Well how about a nice, clean, unpopulated press officer's office?

"No, we can't do it there, I saw him earlier and he looked really mad."

After half an hour of prime time pop star vacillation, we do actually happen upon a Lawrence approved interview broom cupboard and an hour after that I've asked all my questions and am getting ready to leave, but Lawrence is having none of it.

"No, you can't go yet, I haven't said anything interesting yet. I'm working up to a good quote, I can feel one coming on." Pursued by a Brummie drone that's become uncharacteristically animated, I continue my exit from Creation Records' HQ, pausing only to hear his last words.

"Please don't make it negative or down. If it gets too boring just make it up."

Lawrence. the infamous Mosely hermit, really is an ever so slightly wild one. A full time, absolutely devoted, obsessive, songwriting "aesthete", he lives in a cave in Birmingham where he stays in all the time and writes song, writes songs, sometimes eats (but never vegetables) and writes songs. Lawrence lives in a world of monkish endeavour where the making of a promotional video is a grave intrusion.

His art is firmly restricted to making records "with a nice photo on" and doing interviews. That's why Lawrence is so hilariously, inordinately dissatisfied — he thinks interviews are important and as far as he's concerned, he's just done a bad one.

What Lawrence's fantastically naive obsessiveness prevents him from seeing is that he couldn't do a bad interview if he tried.

YOU COULDN'T really say the same for his records. Lawrence as songwriter for Felt, a band who have struggled through seven largely barren years to their now emergent status, turns out songs pretty prodigiously, songs of wildly varying quality.

A year ago Felt brought out the atrocious 'Let The Snakes Crinkle Their Heads To Death' (as with Felt's record output, their brand of title knows no economy). Three months later they followed with the beautiful, critically acclaimed 'Forever Breathes The Lonely World', an album that with its sheer melodious consistency and musical exuberance marked something of a Felt watershed.

Now they're just released The Poem Of The River', a mini album that's something of a Felt anomaly. Avoiding the extremes of their history, 'Poem' is all right.

A more subdued half cousin to 'Forever', 'Poem' retains the recent Felt hallmark: Martin Duffy's all conquering Hammond organ. Along with this splintering sound machine, Felt's most marked characteristics are Lawrence's laconic vocals and the host of biblical/mediaeval images ("Avalon, Maiden, stained glass") that crop up in his lyrics.

It's these features that have combined to label Lawrence something marginally short of a Dylan copyist. Of course when faced with this accusation, Lawrence replies with the same inured, disbelieving "but all my records are good" tone that he uses when you question his quality control.

Does he feel the past informs his records?

"No way."

Is Dylan someone he appreciates?

"No. What I see is an organ with a sound that was used in the '60s. It's a Hammond organ, it's such a distinctive instrument from the past that people say we sound like ... well, they say Dylan because, although there were a million bands that used a Hammond organ, Dylan's the one they know. We're using the same sound and he didn't invent that sound. The Dylan thing was never mentioned before Martin joined."

That's as well as may be but, Lawrence, are you married?

"No, er, no not at all."

Then why are you wearing a ring on the fourth finger of your left hand, you mixed up monotone merchant?

"Everybody thinks I'm married but it's just stubborn, just stupid. I wanted to wear it on a different finger for no reason at all."

Completely wild, Lol. I bet you have a girlfriend though.

"No way! Contrary to what's been said, I've never had a girlfriend. I'm not interested, not at all."

Indeed if he's to be believed, when he's at home in Birmingham, young Lawrence manages to have relations with precisely no one at all.

Hobbies? None. Interests? None. Alll riiight.

Bearing in mind that it was Lawrence's blow up 'sex' doll which graced the cover of the Creation compilation, 'Purveyors Of Taste', perhaps he might have some minor interest in that direction.

"Well, yeah ... errrm I do, except I'm more of a voyeur."

What?

"Well I used to be a member of a strip club. They'd show two films and then have a stripper and then they'd show the two films again and then the stripper would come back on so you could come in at any time of day and just pick up on the action. There was no real kick. I actually thought it would be really good but it just turned out to be sort of ridiculous.

"Sex is the only area where there's any mystery left. We all know what it's like to go to the pub, we all know what it's like to go and see a band, but we don't know what it's like in these sex clubs. That's why we went, it was the only new thing we could find to do."

ALONG WITH 'Poem', Felt have simultaneously released a five-track 12-inch single, 'The Final Restings Of The Ark'. In contrast to the melodic interest of 'Poem', 'The Ark' contains what Lawrence calls "ambient" music, something that constitutes his other musical interest.

Bowing from the title track's "my favourite things" litany, through to some acoustic plucking to a Satiesque interlude, the whole thing's pretty filmic. Apparently something of a Felt sideline.

"We're really interested In film music — we've always written soundtrack songs. I like film music but I think they do it all wrong.

"They make the soundtrack too varied. It might sound OK with the film but when you listen to it on record, it doesn't sound very good."

But Lawrence, isn't that the whole point? Isn't the music meant to go with the film?

"Well maybe, but I don't like it. I'd like to write a soundtrack from a whole new angle — you get loads of money for it.

"Actually we're doing an album of horror film music at the moment because we do really good horror film music. I hate horror films but I like the music. It'll be a seven-inch mini album — brilliant, total suicide, a seven-inch mini album.

"You couldn't do that on Warners. We just thought, what a crazy idea to bring out a mini album of horror film music."

Lawrence, it's a completely crazy idea.