#glee rewind

[ipwarn]

So you are saying Jenna and Kevin, Amber and Chris, and now Darren have all taken part in different music based quiz shows all within a couple of months of each other? 

Is it just a new trend or what?

[threehealers]

im so so sorry for my childhood kurt hummel hate. truly he is a 2023 tboy

[ashlynnfall]

ekko looks for powder in the color blue. the sky, the water, hair, and eyes. blue blooms in the flowers near his tree and weaves through the streets of zaun, leaving trails for him to follow, leading him to something that no longer exists.

ekko looks for powder in light. it emanates from fire and spreads throughout zaun in the night. it's in the fixtures that decorate the streets, and it cascades down onto ekko's hideout, illuminating the mural that commemorates what has been lost. light reminds him of her. her bright smile and her blinding beauty. it revives the past they shared before tragedy struck, of that unforgettable night where they danced under the stars, of that kiss on the ledge...it's an everlasting reminder of his deepest affection.

ekko looks for powder in the gadgets he possesses. he searches for traces of her in the trinkets he collects, tinkering away to create new ones. inventions are where he looks the hardest, reminding himself of the days they spent working on innovative projects together. he thinks of her genius, her drive, and her madness in the craft. the memories bring a comforting smile to his face, which is a rare sight these days.

ekko looks for powder in time, lamenting how much they used to have together. there's a cruel irony in "the boy who shattered time" nickname. he was unable to spend the time he wanted with her, he couldn't shatter time enough to fit his needs. he enjoyed what they spent together, but it was too little. he could rewind time over and over and over again, but he still wouldn't get enough of her. his love for powder is timeless.

ekko looks for powder in his title: the boy savior. yet another cruel irony. he saved the entire world, ensuring the survival of many. in fact, he's spent his whole life saving people. he's always sacrificing his own needs for others as he leads a life of unbridled altruism. in a way, he's making up for being unable to save powder from jinx and silco. the boy savior, capable of rescuing anyone and everyone, except for the love of his life.

ekko looks for powder in the new era of zaun. sevika leading in the council, children running in the streets in glee rather than fear, the people breathing fresh air-it was everything they ever dreamed of. if only she was around to see it. ekko searches for the murals dedicated to her, seeks out the remnants of her hideout, scouts for anyone with leftover stories of her to tell. he observes the elated spirits of the city and bears the pain deep within his smile, reminding him of what could have been.

ekko looks for powder physically. it's not enough to just remember her. he needs to hug her, hold her close, and never let her go. he needs to hear her voice again, to invent with her again, to dance with her again, he just needs her to be here again. powder's absence is impossible to ignore, and ekko's tired of acknowledging it. he wants to be selfishly in love with her, but he can't. the world needed a savior, ekko answered the call.

ekko never stops looking for powder. she's in his head, in his heart, in his memories, in his home-no place is without her image. in his mind, powder's words echo promises of the past, not knowing that they'd be broken in the future. he searches for her in the people of zaun, hoping for the day when someone's face matches the one he craves to see so desperately. his search is endless, hopelessly devoted to a ghost of his past.

ekko finds powder in the hand that extends to him from a large white blimp. blue and pink nails decorate the pale skin covering it, confirming who stands before him. he looks at her bright smile, her pink eyes, the blue hair that grew back to the tops of her shoulders, the beautiful face he yearns to get lost in. he takes her in, processing everything he can see, praying that this isn't some horrible dream or hallucination.

ekko finds powder in the hug that they share, the hands that he holds, and in the lips that kiss him. ekko finds powder in the promises of adventure, in the conversations about their post-war lives, and in the apologies for everything. ekko finds powder.

powder and ekko find each other in love, in the reunion with their surviving friends and family, in the celebrations of a new zaun. they find each other on the dance floor once again, but this time, in the right universe. they bask in each other's arms, refusing to ever let go.

ekko finally finds powder, promising to never lose her again.

a/n: hi! i wanted to give ekko the ending he deserves because he's my fav character and deserves the whole world. timebomb as a couple mean so much to me, so i wanted to write a little story about their reunion after the finale of season 2. i need them together!! i also just adore ekko and powder, and that scene of them dancing in the alt universe was insanely well done. i hope you enjoyed my work, and thank you for reading! any tips of improving my writing or general thoughts on the fic would be greatly appreciated. thank you for your time <3

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Rejected soulmate au but I made it worse instead of better

Danny, instead of just leaving, instead snaps and commits a series of murders as Phantom, rampaging across the city. His first victims were his parents who he mauled to death, then Vlad, then his so called "friends". Once he came out of the green rage induced fog he realized what he had done and sobbed somewhere in the woods around Amity.

He knew that the GIW would arrive soon, and well, he's already in this deep and he can't just let a government agency that hell bent on genocide and conquering/expirementing on the entities of an entire dimension do as they please so he takes his hanger out on them as he's always wanted.

Hes so glad Jazz is away for collage. She's safe from them. Safe from him.

Its a wonder Clockwork didn't try to talk to him. He probably knew it wouldn't do any good, and Danny is technically of the living and Clockwork isn't allowed to harm the living or control them, only influence them into taking different paths. Hence why he did the time freeze/rewind fiasco when Danny attacked him at the clock tower when he was 14. He wasn't allowed to actually fight him and honestly at that point Clockwork didn't need to. But now Danny had that time medallion in his chest courtesy of his alternate evil future self and Clockwork couldn't do anything.

Danny was 16 and far too powerful for the master of time to take on.

Danny demolishes the GIW like he was playing Doomed on the easiest setting. It was laughable how quickly they went down and Danny found himself enjoying it.

He always had to tamp down that feeling. That vicious glee he got whenever he took vengeance on someone who wronged him. It had always been a thought in the back of his mind that he may have been inherently evil at heart and that he would turn to the dark side eventually.

He wouldn't be like the fusion of himself and Vlad though. That was just a mildless monster destroying everything in its path. What was even the point of that? For all the darkness in his heart, he couldn't see that as anything other that sheer stupidity. He assumed it was Vlads half. The only thing the creep was ever good at was dragging everyone around him down.

Danny packs up and activates the Fenton houses Baba Yaga Protocal, causing his childhood home to grow legs and literally walk away. He eventually managed to find all of Vlads secret labs and treasure stashes, raiding all of them and stripping them of everything they had to offer.

Then he went to find his soulmates dimension in the comfort and convenience of a newer and crazier version of howls moving castle. He had no plans on harming them per say, but he wanted to know why. Why reject a soulmate you hadn't even met before? A person who either platonically or romantically is your perfect match and can understand you better than anyone.

Danny himself suffered immensely throughout his childhood. His parents mental and emotion manipulation and neglect had left Danny longing for thier praise and attention but also left him feeling hollow and confused. Being the children of Evil mad scientists made it difficult to be friends with anyone. Even if the kids weren't weirded out by them, the parents of those kids would tell them that they weren't allowed to play with him or Jazz in fear for thier safety.

Rumors about the Fenton parents experimenting on thier children eventually reached thier ears. That was when he realized that other parents didn't give them twice daily injections of ectoplasm into thier bloodstream.

Im lazy but heres more:

1. Danny as a kid 9-12 realized that Sam and Tucker were crappy friends. Sam often tried to chase away any other girls that tried to talk to Danny for any reason (she was getting better) and often was controlling or patronizing to him while using her parents wealth to get what she wanted. Whether she realized it or not, she was actually a lot like them.

Tucker, Danny decided, secretly hated him and had straight up admitted before that he only became friends with Danny to steal the cool tech from his parents lab, which Danny had allowed and risked getting hurt by his parents to make his friend happy. Tucker was always jealous of Danny, stating that Tuckers own life was plain and boring while Dannys was like the protagonist of an anime. Tucker was quiet about it, but Danny saw how much the other boy enjoyed seeing him fail.

He tried to hang out with his big sister more, cause she could understand and she loved him, right? He was standing outside her door again with his favorite ball (it had the constellation Pegasus on it!) and raised his hand to knock on her door when he heard her groan loudly.

He knew he wasn't supposed to eavesdrop but he put his ear to the door anyway. Curiosity had always been his greatest weakness. On the other side she was talking on the phone. To who he had no idea cause Jazz didn't have friends, but she was complaining about mom and dad and...him. she told her phone friend that she loved him, but only out of obligation. She was his sister and she had to care about him, even if she didn't want to.

Danny didn't understand. She had just said she loved him so why did his heart hurt so much?

He went back to playing with Sam and Tucker. They were what he had, even if he didn't like them, he could lie to himself and tell himself that he did. Just like with mommy and daddy.

If he keeps telling himself that he loves them than he will. If he keeps telling himself that they love him then they will.

Dannys always been good at lying to himself.

Still, the soulmark on his arm remained. It was a vague promise of a light at the end of the tunnel. A dream that someone would show him what real love was like and they would sweep him off his feet and take him far far away from this place.

So why...

2. Phantom doesn't make a name for himself in this new dimension right away. Yeah he had all this treasure he stole from Vlad but treasure isn't money and he had no idea if money from his dimension would even be valid what with all the protections the us had on thier bills to make it difficult for people to make fakes.

Selling gold bars and the like was easier said than done, especially if you actually wanted a fair price for it, and he'd rather have a hoard stashed away for his later plans to more easily take shape.

3. Phantom was an excellent thief, even without his powers, but hes in too early to be arrogant and this world was filled with super-powered villians and heros alike, all trying to make a name for themselves.

He refused to be anyones stepping stool to something greater. Not anymore.

Danny was as cunning as he was skilled. He disguised himself in seedy bars, talking up whatever heist he had made recently, saying whatever thief had pulled that off must have been the greatest, sometimes he ever went dressed as a swooning girl for the extra oomph.

It usually worked and some meat head would take credit for his crimes. Word would sometimes conveniently make its way to the cops and if Danny was really lucky the poor sucker would actually go down for his crimes.

All to muddy the waters. Its harder to connect all these crimes to him when half of them have convictions and the other half have nothing linking them together <3

4. Danny needed minions but he didn't want to tell them anything. He wasn't in the position to start recruiting younger supervillians into his army yet. That was much later in the plan.

No, he needed a mercenary. One who didn't ask questions.

Mr. Deathstroke came with great recommendations and had a great track record for getting whatever contract he had completed and he had a vendetta of some sort against the Teen Titans and Young Justice.

Yeah, he was a bit fruitloopy but he seemed perfect for the job he had in mind.

Danny would keep Deathstroke at a distance of course. He was a mercenary, a hired gun, not his friend. Some one else could easily hire him to get information about Phantom or worse, hire him to attack or capture Phantom.

No the only thing tall, dark and scary was getting from him was the money owed to him in the contract. Money he now had plenty of.

5. Danny never really considered that he would have to compete with other thieves.

He had made sure to steer clear of places like Gotham and Metropolis because of the heros there who always stopped thieves and revealed their identities. Danny didn't need that, no thank you.

But as he was doing one of his heists, the third one this month and the one he planned on sticking the blame onto another poor sap-freaking Catwoman ran into the room with a sphinx carved of some precious stone and Batman not far behind.

Batman locked eyes with him for only a moment, cowl meeting domino for a split second, and Phantom knew he had been found out. This wasn't Gotham. He had no idea how they had gotten here or when but Danny wasn't naive enough to think the worlds greatest detective wouldn't be on his tail after he saw Phantoms arms drapped in the "priceless artifacts" from the India section.

They very much had a price. His buyer had paid a hefty chunk in advance.

Catwoman, who Danny had silently sworn vengeance against, kicked Batman away from her mid brawl and launching him in the direction Phanton was escaping.

Crud. It was time to fight and he was so not happy about it. Danny did manage to get away with the use of his electric powers. Turns out leaving the lower half of your face exposed is a bad idea, especially if your opponent knows Thunder Punch.

He used an EMP pulse as he ran to fry any cameras and Batmans equipment before heading down the hallway and through a few walls. He turned invisible once he was far enough away and flew off into the night with his prize.

This buyer better not backstabbing him. He's in no mood to play nice tonight.

[katsukistofu]

we are made of stardust

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ i. midoriya x fem reader. 0.8k words — childhood friends to lovers. fluff. astronomy references.

It's hard for someone to pinpoint their earliest memories. Maybe it was the moment they blew their candles out on their first birthday, or when they scraped their knee while learning to ride a bike.

For you, it’s the smell of lavender fabric softener.

You think your earliest memory is of the sight of his freckled cheeks, with nothing but the green light of the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling illuminating them.

Of sleepovers, reading the most recent copies of your favorite manga that you picked out from the library together under the blanket, holding the coolest pages up for the other to see, and hurriedly tucking the books under his pillows when Inko came in to check if you two were sleeping.

You remember his giggles as he tugs at the blanket to cover the both of you, big deep forest eyes dancing with glee. ‘To protect you from monsters,’ he whispers, only five years old, yet saying it with the unwavering confidence of All Might in those videos he loved to play to death on TV over and over again.

Inko chuckles, noticing you two once again rewinding the video for the third time, entranced by all might as he saves cats from a tree while rescuing civilians from an explosive villain, “faster than the speed of sound!” the title reads, while placing a plate of sliced fruit on the coffee table. He was starting to grow out of his favorite All Might onesie now.

Would he ever outgrow you?

Just as the moon orbits the sun, you can’t remember a time when you weren’t stuck to his side.

You’re the one holding his hands in the pool when he ditches his floaties for the first time, slowly guiding him as he kicks and kicks, holding him tight and not letting him sink.

You’re the one jumping and stomping on his bullies' sandcastles at the beach, when they try to ruin his first.

Accidentally, you’re the first one he tells when he passes the entrance exam for UA. He was calling his mother on the phone when you overheard him saying not to tell you yet, because he wanted to surprise you in person. His mother and you prepare a cute little party for him before he gets home, and upon opening the door to the apartment he’s greeted with a rain of confetti and a table full of his favorite dishes.

Streamers fall around him, and his eyes light up like shooting stars as he hugs his mother and you in his arms. ‘Proud of you, crybaby,’ is what you fondly whisper in his ear and between tears he gives a choked up little laugh.

Just as the earth needs rain, he waters your gardens and tends to your flowers.

He frowns when you frown, cries when you cry. It’s been over a decade but you’ll never forget the big fat tears that ran down his face when you jumped off the swings a little too early and fell on your face. The fourth grade teachers thought he was the one that got hurt.

When he places a bandaid on your knee with a worried pout on his lips, he lends you his light, and you shine it back.

Only five years old and in your mind, he was already a hero.

“What are you thinking about?”

Your eyes flutter open at the sound of Izuku’s soft voice. His firm thighs support your head from underneath and you wonder if he’s been working out even more than usual. He grins at your dazed face.

“Were you sleeping on me?” He teases. “For free?”

You roll your eyes as a yawn hits you, stretching in his lap. “Sorry I actually forgot to bring my card with me for this nap, sir.”

“My services aren’t cheap, you know.” He fakes a huff like he’s being scammed big time, and you have to laugh. He was so cute when he was dramatic. “I guess I can start a tab for you.”

“Aw, thanks.” You deadpan, and he snorts in response.

Taking his hand in yours, you trace the scars along his skin, addicted to the feeling of where rough scars meet his soft, baby skin.

He can’t help but blush.

He still gets it, this look in his eyes, like when he makes an observation he’s never realized before amongst his mutterings. Whenever he sees All Might merch on display in store windows, despite already owning most of it already.

But even more so, when he looks at you.

His gaze softens as he admires you in his lap, the slope of your nose and the shape of your mouth that his lips must have traced over hundreds of times by now. When he received that fateful golden strand of hair months ago, and after his mother the first person he thought of protecting was you. Though he knows you’re more than capable of doing it yourself, he wants to. He wonders if you realize it, the reason he saves. If not, he’s willing to remind you, over and over again until it’s woven into the beautiful constellation of your brain.

You’re the one that’s always been his hero.

[redgoldblue]

sell your fear and leave me standing here

buck/tommy, 12.9k, T, triple pov (Buck; Tommy; Eddie). yet another 8x06 fix-it, featuring gay bingo, firefam input, and bonus Lucy Donato

The first Eddie hears of the breakup is, “Eddie, what the fuck just happened?”

Eddie’s finished his beer and is still basking in a post-Risky Business glow, and for a moment he thinks Buck’s talking about the fact that he’s not wearing pants.

“I don’t know, Buck,” he replies, just for fun. “You tell me.”

“Eddie,” he repeats. That makes Eddie sit up straighter, except that his shirt is way slipperier than he thought and his legs are stuck to the couch, and the combination somehow leads to him half-sliding half-falling off the couch as Buck continues, “I think Tommy just dumped me.”

It also mean his initial response is, “Ow!”

Buck peers down at him. “Yeah. Want a hand up?”

“I got it.” He pushes himself back up and collapses back on the couch. “You think?” he asks.

“No, he definitely did. I checked.”

“What the fuck?”

“That’s what I said!”

“That’s-” Well, the glow is abating now. If the fall hadn’t done it already. “Okay, tell me what happened.”

“It was great. We were great. And I scared him off. I think. Maybe. We were going to a movie. And then he called me Buck.”

Eddie bites back on his first response of ‘that’s your name’, because after a few seconds considering it he does get how that would seem weird after six months of ‘Evan’. Instead, he makes a ‘go on’ gesture.

“I told him about Abby. And I’d talked to Josh. I didn’t tell him that, that happened before, but Josh talked to me.”

“Hang on, hang on, rewind,” Eddie says. At this rate it might take him until tomorrow’s shift to get the full story, but he needs to clarify something here. “What about Abby?”

“Oh, right, I only told Maddie. Yeah, he was engaged to Abby. And I didn’t tell him that was my Abby when he told me, because, I mean-”

“What the fuck,” Eddie supplies. It seems to be the phrase of the moment.

“Yeah,” Buck agrees. He’d emptied his beer bottle about a minute after sitting down, and rather than reaching for another one he’s just been turning it round and round in his hands. He stops, now, and starts picking at the corner of the label instead. “And I talked to Josh about it, because I was talking to Maddie about it and he was there, and he- he gave me a speech about Glee, and it made me think, I guess, so then before we went to the movie I told Tommy-”

“Oh, god, Buck,” Eddie interrupts, because there’s so much happening here and it’s all heading in a truly terrible direction, and maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if they started work before he has to hear the end of it. “Did you tell him you love him? Before he broke up with you?”

“I mean, no,” Buck says, but it’s completely unconvincing and he’s drooped even further into the couch. “Worse.”

“Worse?”

Buck’s next words are mumbled under his breath, and it genuinely takes Eddie a moment to figure out what they are. “I-asked-him-to-move-in.”

Eddie blinks, processes that, then reaches over to grab another beer bottle. He gently pulls the now thoroughly de-labelled one from Buck’s hands and replaces it with good hard alcohol. Then he says, “So just to be clear, you asked him to move in with you after six months, and he dumped you for it? Do you want me to kick his ass? I absolutely can, he’s not as good at Muay Thai as he thinks he is.”

Buck chuckles. It sounds a little like a dying frog. “No. He said- I don’t know, I went too fast. He didn’t say that. He said he wasn’t going to be my last.”

“Dick,” Eddie says, because Tommy is his friend and he’s sure there was more going on, but Buck is his best friend who just got dumped, and that requires a little name-calling.

Buck’s face scrunches up, eyes closed, as he says, “He said I was going to break his heart.”

“So he broke yours first?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, and it sounds strained enough that Eddie slips closer on instinct. It’s a good thing he did, because Buck continues, “I guess so,” then turns towards him, and suddenly there’s the weight of a Buck against him and a wet feeling on his shoulder. “Oh, fuck, Eddie,” and the next words come out on a whole-hearted sob, “I loved him.”

~

The second thing Eddie hears about the breakup is, “Eddie, what the fuck happened, man?”

keep reading on ao3

[f14fun]

lay all your love on me - op81 (C5)

synopsis: in which oscar piastri and a university student begging for her euro summer vacation collide in a steamy, abba-inspired romance

prose (6.7K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩ profile | masterlist | series index ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

05: Caffeine, Clem, and Capital-L Crushes

I was running on exactly four hours of sleep, and every yawn felt like my body’s way of scolding me for staying up way too late dissecting every little detail of my night with Oscar. Two hours on FaceTime with Clementine had somehow turned into a caffeine-fueled debriefing session, complete with dramatic reenactments, wild theories, and far too much giggling for someone who was supposed to be getting some rest.

Clementine had demanded every detail, leaning into the camera with wide, eager eyes, dissecting each word, each touch, like she was decoding the plot of a blockbuster rom-com. I’d found myself animatedly recounting every flirty remark and lingering glance, my voice climbing higher with each retelling, only for Clem to gasp and fan herself like we were living in some Victorian romance.

The more we talked, the more the night felt surreal—a blur of sun-soaked moments and teasing exchanges that played on a loop in my mind. I’d lost track of how many times Clem had paused to remind me, “Babe, he’s into you. Like, capital-L into you.” Each time, I’d try to protest, but the undeniable flutter in my chest always betrayed me. By the time we’d finally hung up, my cheeks were aching from smiling, and the adrenaline from our impromptu therapy session had me buzzing long after I’d collapsed into bed.

I could still hear Clem’s voice echoing in my head:

“I’m telling you, this is a Hallmark movie in the making, and you’re the main character. The Oscar Romance Special is about to hit season two.”

I’d rolled my eyes at the time, but now, dragging myself out of bed with a sleepy groan, I couldn’t stop replaying every flirty line, every shared smile, every moment that had made the night feel like something more.

The minute I’d crawled under the covers last night, I should have fallen straight into a blissful, uninterrupted sleep. But instead, I’d tossed and turned, Oscar’s voice running laps in my head, every cheeky grin and lingering touch replaying like my brain had hit the “rewind” button on the best parts of the day. And once Clem got wind of it, there was no way she was going to let me sleep without a full-blown breakdown of every micro-detail.

“It’s the way he looked at you when you were talking about chicken fights,” Clem had mused, eyes wide as if she were watching a thriller unfold. “Like you were the only person who’d ever said something even remotely interesting.”

I’d laughed, brushing it off, but the truth was, I’d noticed it too. The way Oscar’s gaze would linger, how his playful teasing had just the slightest undercurrent of something deeper.

We’d joked, sure—but every joke felt like it was skirting around something bigger, something neither of us were quite ready to name. And when I’d finally tried to put it into words, Clem had been ready with her own dramatic commentary, as usual.

“So he’s a Formula One driver, he’s charming, and he looks at you like you hung the moon with the flick of a finger. Babe, if you don’t lock in right now and lock that down, I’m coming over there myself to knock some sense into you.” She’d laughed with such glee and enthusiasm, but the teasing was laced with genuine excitement, and it had fueled my own sleepless spiral long after we’d said goodnight.

I’d tossed and turned for hours, replaying every moment in my head like it was some kind of twisted highlight reel. The way Oscar’s voice had dropped when he talked about his life on the track, the lingering touches that made my heart race, and that look—God, that look—like I was the only person in the world who mattered. Clem was right; it was hard not to get swept up in it, to not feel like the universe had handed me some ridiculous, too-good-to-be-true script of a romance movie. But as much as my heart was screaming at me to dive headfirst, my mind was busy throwing up every possible reason to pump the brakes.

Now, sunlight was streaming through my window, mercilessly bright, as I trudged to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face in a vain attempt to wake up. My reflection stared back at me, hair sticking out in every direction, dark circles under my eyes that practically screamed, You should have gone to bed sooner. But my mind was still buzzing, caught somewhere between the thrill of last night and the anxiety of what came next.

I brushed my teeth absentmindedly, trying to scrub away the exhaustion and the lingering taste of late-night anxiety. But every time I closed my eyes, I was back on that beach, Oscar’s teasing grin etched into my memory like a permanent fixture. It wasn’t just the flirting or the way he’d pulled me close; it was the way he’d made me feel seen, like all the walls I’d put up to protect myself had been effortlessly dismantled in a single night.

I leaned against the sink, sighing heavily. “Get it together,” I mumbled to my reflection. “He’s just a guy.” But even as I said it, the words felt hollow, lacking the conviction I so desperately needed. Because deep down, I knew Oscar was not just any guy. There was something undeniably magnetic about him, something that made it impossible to stick to the safety of denial.

My phone buzzed on the counter, snapping me out of my thoughts. It was a text from Clem, her timing impeccable as always:

Clem: morning, lovebird! dream of your racer boy? 😘

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips.

Me: morning. and no, i dreamt of sleep deprivation, thanks.

Clem: liesss girl liesss, i can see you RIGHT now in my mind. you’re probably blushing just thinking about him right now.

I glanced at my reflection in the mirror and, sure enough, the telltale warmth was already creeping up my cheeks. Damn it, Clem. She knew me too well.

Me: oh my god, clem. you’re like a psychic stalker. can’t a girl have some peace?

Clem: peace? honey, you signed up for the drama package the moment you met him. so spill, what’s the plan? are you gonna ride this love rollercoaster or what?

And, damn her, she was right. I tossed my phone onto the wooden dresser, groaning. Everything felt too raw, too immediate. It wasn’t like me to get this twisted up over a guy, but there was something about Oscar—something I couldn’t quite put my finger on—that made my usual cool detachment completely useless.

I splashed my face one more time, hoping the cold water would snap me out of my reverie, but it was no use. The memory of Oscar’s easy laugh, his warm touch, and that sincere, almost vulnerable side he’d let slip through lingered like a song I couldn’t get out of my head. And the worst part? A small, stubborn part of me didn’t want it to go away.

As I ran a brush through my tangled hair, I caught myself staring at the mirror, silently wishing for answers. What was I supposed to do now? Lean in and see where this crazy, unexpected thing with Oscar could go, or protect myself and pull back before things got messy? Either way, I was in uncharted territory, and the thought of navigating it without screwing everything up seemed both exhilarating and terrifying.

“Guess I’m in it now,” I muttered to my reflection, feeling the weight of the decision resting heavily on my shoulders. Because whatever happened next, there was no going back to before.

Clem: you better not chicken out now. i swear, if you start overthinking this, i’ll fly over there myself and push you into his arms.

Me: so violent, hehe.

Me: but thanks for the pep talk, dr. phil. ilysmmm

Clem: ilysm booo! you know it. and hey, you’ve got this. worst case? you get a story to laugh about later. best case? you get a hot f1 boyfriend. seems like a win-win to me.

I laughed, shaking my head as I set my phone down. Clem’s relentless optimism was a lifeline, even when she was half-joking. I wasn’t sure which possibility scared me more—letting this thing with Oscar fizzle out into a ‘remember when’ or diving in headfirst and risking everything.

I threw on my seafoam green strapless dress, the one with the ruched bodice that hugged my waist just right and flowed into a ruffled hem. It was the perfect mix of casual and effortlessly chic, capturing that laid-back Mediterranean vibe I’d always admired but never quite pulled off until now. The soft pastel green felt fresh and summery, and as I adjusted the fabric, I couldn’t help but feel a little more put together than usual.

To complete the look, I fastened my chunky gold chain necklace, adorned with oversized sea-themed charms—starfish, shells, and other ocean treasures that jingled softly with every movement. It was bold, a little gaudy maybe, but it felt right, like an unapologetic nod to the seaside setting we were in. Matching gold earrings dangled from my ears, catching the morning light, and I stacked a few gold bangles on my wrists for good measure. The jewelry was heavy, warm against my skin, but it grounded me, giving me a little boost of confidence as I prepared to face whatever this day would bring.

I took one last glance in the mirror, adjusting the loose waves in my hair and making sure the necklace lay just right. There was something about the way the outfit came together that made me feel a little bolder, like I was dressing not just for breakfast, but for the possibility of whatever—or whoever—came next.

Even if I felt nervous as hell and quite possibly so very close to the edge, I would make sure no one could see it (telling myself lies again but I digress).

I needed to look hot. Fucking impeccable.

Taking a deep breath, I grabbed my phone again, typing out a final message to Clem:

Me: okay, okay. i’m going. no more hiding. and if i trip over my words like a fool, that’s on you.

Clem: that’s my girl! go get your man.

With Clem’s words echoing in my head, I shoved my phone into my pocket and headed downstairs, nerves fluttering in my stomach like restless butterflies. The scent of breakfast hit me as soon as I reached the bottom step—freshly brewed coffee, the crisp aroma of toast, and something sweet, like cinnamon and sugar. It was a comforting mix, and it tugged at the edges of my anxiety, coaxing me forward.

The kitchen was bathed in soft morning light, casting a golden glow over the bustling scene. Mae, with her short hair tousled in that effortlessly cool way only she could pull off, was dressed in an oversized graphic tee and a pair of tiny denim shorts, her legs stretched out as she lounged on the stool, half-distracted by whatever was on her screen. A few bracelets jingled on her wrist as she absentmindedly scrolled, occasionally chiming in with a sarcastic comment that made the others laugh.

Hattie, ever the organized one, was moving around with purpose, her damp curls pulled back into a messy bun that still somehow looked put-together. She wore a light blue tank top that matched her eyes and high-waisted linen pants that billowed slightly as she moved, the kind of outfit that screamed effortless summer chic. She balanced a stack of mismatched plates on one hip, arranging them on the table with precision, her expression a mix of focus and amusement as she chimed in on Mae’s snarky commentary.

Edie, the youngest but certainly not the quietest, was manning the stove with the confidence of someone who had taken on the role of breakfast chef many times before. Her hair was pulled into two loose braids, little wisps escaping around her face as she flipped pancakes with practiced ease. She wore a sunflower-yellow sundress that brightened the room even more, the fabric swishing around her knees as she moved. A slight dusting of flour clung to her hands, and there was a faint smear of batter on her cheek, giving her an endearing, carefree look.

The kitchen smelled heavenly—warm, sweet, and buttery—with the faintest hint of vanilla wafting from Edie’s pancake masterpiece. Mae’s playlist was faintly audible, playing some indie pop tune that filled the gaps in their conversation and set an upbeat mood. It was the kind of scene that felt both chaotic and comforting, each of the sisters contributing to the lively morning energy in their own way.

“Morning!” Mae chirped, barely glancing up from her screen but still managing to sound chipper. “You’re up early. Couldn’t stay away from us, huh?”

“Morning,” I replied, trying to keep my tone light and casual. “Smells amazing in here.”

“Edie’s specialty,” Hattie said with a grin, sliding a stack of pancakes onto the table. “She’s got this whole breakfast chef thing down to an art.”

Edie turned, waving the spatula in a mock bow. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here all week. Literally.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, taking a seat across from Mae. “Well, lucky us. I’m definitely not complaining.”

Mae finally looked up, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “So, did you sleep well? You know, after your little moonlit stroll last night?”

I felt my cheeks heat up instantly, and I reached for a mug to hide my flustered expression. “Yeah, fine. Just… normal.” I took a sip, hoping the coffee would ground me, but all it did was make me more aware of how on edge I was.

Hattie exchanged a knowing look with Mae, then turned to me with a playful smile. “You guys were out there for a while. I half expected to hear the soundtrack of a rom-com playing in the background.”

I rolled my eyes, but there was no malice in it—just the familiar tug of embarrassment. “You guys are impossible, you know that?”

Edie laughed, flipping another pancake. “Oh, we know. But you love it.”

“Sure, let’s go with that,” I said, trying to keep my voice light as I picked at a piece of toast. The truth was, I didn’t mind their teasing. In fact, their relentless ribbing was almost comforting, like being folded into a dynamic I didn’t know I needed.

“Anyway,” Mae continued, dragging out the word as if savoring the moment, “Oscar’s still asleep. Guess all that romantic strolling wore him out.” She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and I choked on my coffee, trying to keep my composure.

“Mae, please,” I said, laughing despite myself. “I don’t need a play-by-play of his morning routine.”

Edie set down the last plate of pancakes and took a seat, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “Oh, come on. It’s just so fun watching you squirm.”

“Yeah, and you’re kind of the only normal one here,” Hattie added, piling syrup onto her plate. “Oscar’s always either being overly confident or sulking about something. It’s refreshing to have someone who’s, you know, sane.”

I smiled, feeling that familiar warmth of being welcomed, even if it came wrapped in layers of teasing. “Well, thanks, I guess? I’ll take being the sane one if it means I get pancakes.”

Hattie passed me the syrup, her grin wide. “Deal. But don’t think that gets you off the hook. We’re all dying to know—what’s really going on with you and Oscar?”

I hesitated, suddenly aware of how much their playful scrutiny meant to me. I didn’t want to let them down, but I also wasn’t ready to admit to anything that I hadn’t even figured out myself. “Honestly?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m not sure. But I think that’s okay. We’re just… figuring it out.”

Mae nodded, surprisingly earnest. “Hey, no pressure. Just enjoy it. Life’s too short to overthink everything.”

I glanced at her, surprised by the sudden shift from teasing to sincerity. “Yeah, you’re right,” I said, feeling a little more settled. “I think I will.”

Mae’s expression softened, and she set her phone down, propping her chin on her hand as she watched me. “Seriously, though, don’t stress about it. If anyone can handle the chaos that is Oscar, it’s you. Plus, he’s not so bad once you get used to the terrible jokes and the occasional bouts of bravado.”

Hattie chuckled, sliding into her seat and pouring herself a glass of orange juice. “And the dramatic speeches,” she added, winking at me. “He’s got a flair for making everything sound like it’s life or death, but really, he’s just a softie at heart.”

Edie finally turned off the stove, setting a towering plate of pancakes on the table with a triumphant grin. “You’ll get used to it,” she said, giving me a conspiratorial smile as she sat down. “Just roll with it. That’s what we do.”

Their encouragement warmed me more than I expected, and for a moment, I felt like I was being let in on a secret, one that went beyond the lighthearted teasing and easy banter. It was clear that beneath all the jokes, there was a genuine care for their brother—a kind of protective, loving acceptance that made me feel a little less alone in navigating this new territory with him.

I sat down, reaching for a pancake and letting their words sink in. The idea of just enjoying the moment, of not overanalyzing every tiny interaction, felt both freeing and slightly terrifying. But sitting here, surrounded by this noisy, welcoming group, it felt like maybe, just maybe, I could let go a little. I could let myself lean into the unexpected without the weight of expectations dragging me down.

Mae poured herself another cup of coffee, her smile turning back into her usual mischievous smirk. “And hey, if it doesn’t work out, at least you’ll have some great stories. Like, ‘Remember that summer I got tangled up with a race car driver and his three crazy sisters?’ It’s all part of the adventure.”

I laughed, shaking my head at Mae’s dramatics. “I’ll keep that in mind,” I said, taking a bite of my pancake, the sweetness filling my senses. “But for now, I think I’ll just enjoy breakfast and see where the day takes me.”

Hattie raised her glass in a mock toast. “To not overthinking and just going with the flow,” she declared, her eyes sparkling with the easy confidence of someone who knew exactly how to live in the moment.

Edie joined in, clinking her glass with Hattie’s and then mine. “And to great company,” she added, beaming as she dug into her stack of pancakes.

Edie took a sip of her juice, then leaned forward, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “So, we got all wrapped up in Oscar’s big secret yesterday, but what about you? We didn’t really get to know much about the mystery girl who’s apparently brave enough to keep up with our brother.”

I smiled, feeling the spotlight shift to me as all three sisters turned their attention my way. “Oh, nothing too dramatic,” I started, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’m twenty-one, a senior at George Washington University in DC.”

Hattie’s eyes widened with recognition. “Ooh, DC! The nation’s capital, right? I’ve always wanted to go. It’s like, politics central, isn’t it?”

I nodded, laughing at her enthusiasm. “Yeah, it’s a pretty unique place. It’s not a state, but it likes to think it’s important enough to be one. You know, home of the White House, Congress, and a whole lot of people in suits pretending they know how to run the country.”

Mae snorted into her coffee. “So basically, it’s one giant power trip?”

“Pretty much,” I grinned. “But it’s also got this amazing mix of history and culture. There are monuments and museums on every corner, and sometimes it feels like you can’t throw a rock without hitting some important landmark. It’s kind of like living in a history book—except with more Starbucks.”

Hattie laughed. “And you’re majoring in what? Political stuff, I’m guessing?”

“Close,” I said, feeling a bit more comfortable now. “I’m majoring in International Relations. It’s like political science, but with more foreign countries, diplomacy, and trying to figure out why world leaders can’t just get along. Basically, I’m training to be the world’s most overqualified peacekeeper or, you know, a very stressed-out diplomat.”

Edie nodded, clearly impressed. “That sounds really cool, though. And probably way over my head. So what do you do for fun in a city full of politicians?”

“Well,” I said, a little shy but pleased they were interested, “when I’m not drowning in textbooks, I actually love to photograph the city. There’s something about the mix of old architecture and modern chaos that just... speaks to me, I guess. Plus, it’s an easy way to escape all the academic stuff and just focus on something beautiful.”

Mae’s ears perked up. “Wait, so you’re a photographer? That’s awesome! Do you post your stuff anywhere?”

I hesitated, suddenly feeling a bit bashful. “Yeah, I have an Instagram account where I share my photos. It’s kind of taken off a little bit.”

Hattie immediately pulled out her phone, eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What’s your handle? I wanna see!”

I told them my Instagram username, and within seconds, they were scrolling through my feed, their faces lighting up with interest as they took in my shots of cityscapes, moody portraits, and candid street moments.

“Whoa, you’ve got 32.9K followers?” Edie exclaimed, holding up her phone to show the impressive number. “You’re basically Instagram famous! And these photos are gorgeous.”

Mae looked up, clearly impressed. “I’m not even surprised. You’ve got an eye, girl. These shots are like... magazine-level good. I feel like I’m seeing DC through a totally different lens.”

I blushed, feeling a mix of pride and humility. “Thanks, it’s kind of my little escape. I just love capturing the city’s vibe—the people, the little hidden corners, the chaos and calm all mixed together. I never expected it to turn into something people would actually follow.”

Hattie scrolled through a few more pictures, pausing on one of a sunlit Washington Monument framed by cherry blossoms. “I get it. This is art, seriously. And now I’m kind of jealous of your life. You get to live in this cool place, study fascinating stuff, and take amazing photos on the side. That’s like, triple threat territory.”

Hattie leaned back in her chair, shaking her head in disbelief. “You know, I’ve never even been to DC. I mean, we’ve talked about going, but somehow we always end up at the beach or stuck on some last-minute road trip that Dad plans.”

Mae laughed, nodding. “Yeah, because why visit the nation’s capital when you can get lost in the middle of nowhere and argue over gas station snacks, right?”

Edie snorted. “Honestly, the closest we’ve been to DC is watching reruns of House of Cards and pretending we understand politics.”

Mae threw her hands up dramatically. “I swear, we’re missing out. I mean, we’ve got to see all those marble buildings and secret government stuff, right? What’s it like, just casually living near a bunch of old guys in suits who make all the rules?”

I laughed, enjoying their banter. “Honestly? It’s a mix. On one hand, you’ve got all these important people running around pretending they’re changing the world. On the other, it’s just a bunch of monuments, overpriced coffee shops, and tourists blocking the sidewalks with selfie sticks.”

Hattie giggled. “Wow, it sounds like such a glamorous place. Like New York, but with more government scandals and fewer Broadway shows.”

Edie nodded, trying to look serious but failing miserably. “I feel like we’d be kicked out of DC within a day. One of us would probably start an argument with a senator over parking spaces, and Mae would definitely try to sneak into the Capitol just to see if it’s as dramatic as the movies.”

Mae pointed at Edie, pretending to be offended. “Hey, I’m not that reckless. But, like, if we do go, I’m definitely hitting up those underground tunnels. You know they’ve got to be hiding some cool spy stuff down there.”

I shook my head, laughing at the absurdity. “Yeah, I’m not sure you guys would last. You’d probably spend the whole trip critiquing the statues or getting lost in the Smithsonian.”

Mae shrugged, grinning. “Hey, we’re up for the challenge. Just promise to be our tour guide when we eventually decide to grace DC with our presence. We’ll bring the chaos, and you bring the camera.”

“Deal,” I said, raising my glass in mock seriousness. “Just don’t blame me when you get kicked out of a museum for climbing on the exhibits.”

Mae nodded in agreement, setting her phone down. “Yeah, honestly, I’m just glad we finally got to hear your side. And hey, now we know that if you ever get sick of Oscar, you’ve got a whole city full of potential new admirers.”

I laughed, feeling a warm sense of belonging settle over me. “Thanks, but I think I’ll stick around for a bit. I’m kind of liking where I am right now.”

The girls laughed, and Hattie leaned in, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Wait wait wait I still have a few questions. You must have some wild stories. I mean, it’s DC—you’re right in the middle of all the action!”

I smiled, settling into the moment. “It’s a lot of things—hectic, beautiful, sometimes frustrating, but never boring. I love how there’s always something happening, whether it’s a protest down on the National Mall or a pop-up art exhibit in some random alley. There’s this constant energy, like everyone’s in a rush but also living in this incredible historic moment all the time.”

Edie nodded, fascinated. “And the photography thing—how do you even capture all of that? Like, do you just walk around with your camera 24/7?”

I laughed, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Pretty much. I like to just wander around and see where the day takes me. You’d be surprised how many hidden gems there are—little parks tucked between office buildings, street musicians who are just as talented as anyone on stage. Plus, it’s fun capturing the contrasts—the shiny government buildings and the raw, gritty parts that make the city feel real.”

Mae smiled, clearly impressed. “Okay, so now you’re officially our go-to when we make it to DC. We’ll get the full insider experience—no boring tourist traps.”

I opened my mouth to agree when suddenly, a familiar arm draped around my shoulder, pulling me into a warm side hug. “Speaking of insider experiences,” Oscar’s voice broke in, far too close to my ear. “Are you telling them about your little secret photo spots? Or do I get to be the first one you show around?”

Startled, I jumped and let out a sharp yelp, my heart leaping into my throat. Without thinking, my elbow shot backward, driven by pure instinct and a jolt of adrenaline. The impact was immediate—I felt my elbow connect with something firm and unyielding. It wasn’t the soft thud of bumping into furniture or the awkward smack of knocking into someone’s arm. No, this was solid, unmistakably muscular. My elbow sank briefly against the defined ridges of Oscar’s abs, and I could feel the tension of his muscles bracing under the sudden, unexpected blow.

Oscar let out a strangled, surprised grunt, the sound half-laugh, half-pained exhale, as he stumbled backward. His expression morphed from shock to mock agony as he clutched his side dramatically, doubling over with a theatrical gasp.

“Ow! Holy—” he managed between strained breaths, his free hand pressed firmly against his stomach as if he’d just taken a punch straight out of a boxing ring. He staggered back a step, his body curling protectively around the spot where my elbow had connected, and for a split second, I worried I might’ve actually hurt him.

But Oscar’s over-the-top reaction was more comedic than anything else. He leaned against the counter, groaning with exaggerated flair, squeezing his eyes shut as if he were the star of his own melodramatic performance. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, and even in his mock pain, he couldn’t quite hide the playful smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You’ve got some serious power in that elbow,” he wheezed, still clutching his side but peeking up at me with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. “What have you been eating? Steel oats? Protein shakes? Because, damn, you’ve got a weapon there.”

“Oh my god!” I gasped, half mortified, half laughing as Oscar pretended to lurch dramatically against the counter. “You scared the hell out of me! Why are you sneaking up on people?”

Oscar winced playfully, rubbing his abs where I’d jabbed him. “Damn, remind me never to surprise you again. You’ve got an elbow like a linebacker.” He laughed, but his eyes were twinkling, clearly enjoying the chaos he’d caused.

I sat there, caught between concern and stifled laughter, my face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry!” I exclaimed, half-panicked, half-giggling as I reached out, instinctively trying to pat his shoulder as if that would somehow ease the pain. “I didn’t mean to! You just—scared me, and I—I panicked!”

Oscar straightened slightly, still rubbing his abs where I’d jabbed him, his expression teetering between pain and mischief. “I thought I was gonna end up on the floor.” He let out a breathless laugh, eyes sparkling despite his over-the-top suffering. “You’ve got some serious reflexes.”

I glanced down, my gaze lingering on the spot where I’d made contact. Even through his t-shirt, I could feel the distinct firmness of his abs—hard as a rock, like something carved from stone rather than skin and muscle. It was like hitting a brick wall disguised as a human. My cheeks heated as the realization sunk in, and I quickly pulled my hand away, trying to mask my flustered reaction with an awkward laugh.

“Next time, announce yourself!” I shot back, still breathless from the sudden surge of adrenaline. “Or, you know, maybe just don’t sneak up on me when I’m in the middle of a conversation.”

Oscar straightened fully, his grin widening, and he offered me a mock salute. “Yes, ma’am. Lesson learned. I’ll approach with caution—and maybe a helmet—next time.”

The girls burst into laughter, Mae doubling over as she clapped her hands. “Nice one, Oscar. Just try not to get yourself KO’d next time.”

Edie was practically crying with laughter, holding her stomach. “I’ve never seen anyone get taken out by a breakfast elbow before. That was amazing.”

Hattie chimed in, wiping a tear from her eye. “Oscar, you’ve got to work on your stealth skills. Or at least your reflexes. She got you good.”

I was still blushing, torn between embarrassment and pride at my unintentional takedown. “Maybe don’t sneak up on people who are talking about their city adventures,” I said, giving him a playful glare. “I almost knocked the wind out of you.”

Oscar straightened up, still rubbing his side but grinning like he’d just won a game he didn’t know he was playing. “Noted. I’ll keep my distance when you’re in storytelling mode—didn’t realize I’d need a bulletproof vest just to get your attention,” he teased, his voice laced with that familiar playful confidence. He gave me a mock bow, adding, “But hey, it’s not every day I get nearly floored by someone half my size. Impressive, really.”

Mae, who had been watching the whole scene unfold with wide-eyed amusement, chimed in, barely able to contain her laughter. “Honestly, I think you got off easy. If she can take you down with an elbow, just imagine what she could do with a roundhouse kick. You better stay on her good side.”

Hattie snorted, nodding in agreement. “Yeah, Oscar, if she’d been holding a frying pan, you’d be out cold right now. I’d pay to see that fight.” She shot me a wink, clearly enjoying her brother’s over-the-top reaction. “Nice job, by the way. Most people just tell him to buzz off, but you? You went straight for the kill.”

I was still blushing, torn between embarrassment and a tiny bit of pride at my unintentional takedown. “Maybe don’t sneak up on people who are talking about their city adventures,” I said, giving him a playful glare.

Oscar chuckled, his grin never faltering. “Lesson learned. I’ll approach with a white flag next time.” He rubbed his abs one last time, his expression softening as he glanced at me. “But hey, consider me officially intrigued by DC and whatever other hidden skills you’ve got. Might have to keep my distance, but I’m not going anywhere.”

Edie was wiping away tears of laughter, her cheeks flushed from the hilarity. “This is officially the best breakfast we’ve had in ages. Who knew we’d get a free Oscar takedown with our pancakes?” She raised her glass in mock celebration. “To the unexpected and unintentional, but very satisfying, smackdown of the day!”

Oscar shot her a look of mock offense but couldn’t keep from laughing himself. “Alright, alright, I get it. I’m the morning entertainment. But just you wait, I’ll get my revenge—when you least expect it.”

I smirked, still feeling the lingering tingle in my elbow and the rush of adrenaline from the whole absurd encounter. “I’ll be ready. But remember, sneak attacks don’t end well around here.”

Oscar held up his hands in surrender, the playful banter still dancing in his eyes. “Point taken. No more stealth moves—at least not without a warning. But hey,” he added, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper as he leaned in just a bit closer, “I guess that means I’ll just have to find new ways to get under your skin.”

His words sent a small thrill down my spine, the challenge hanging between us like an unspoken promise. It was impossible not to smile, the line between annoyance and attraction blurring further with every quip and every lingering look.

We all settled back around the table, the remnants of breakfast spread out like the aftermath of a lively party. Mae was still giggling into her juice, and Hattie was busy piling pancakes onto her plate, but the atmosphere was lighter now, filled with an easy camaraderie that made the whole morning feel like a scene out of a feel-good movie. I scooped up some scrambled eggs, trying to act casual, but every now and then, I’d catch Oscar sneaking a glance my way, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Pass the syrup?” Oscar asked, leaning in closer than necessary, his arm brushing against mine as he reached for the bottle. It was a small touch, barely noticeable, but it sent a little jolt through me, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes playfully.

“Careful,” I said, handing it over with a smirk. “Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself with this dangerous syrup. It’s a real menace.”

Oscar grinned, pouring a generous amount onto his pancakes. “Yeah, well, I’ll try to handle it without getting taken out by a rogue condiment. But thanks for the concern.”

Hattie snorted, shaking her head as she munched on her toast. “You two are like a sitcom. Seriously, how are we supposed to eat when it’s all banter and sneak attacks?”

Mae nodded in agreement, waving her fork in the air for emphasis. “Exactly. We need a warning before you two start up again. I almost choked on my juice.”

I laughed, grabbing another slice of fruit. “Don’t worry, we’ll try to keep the drama to a minimum. Breakfast is a sacred time, after all.”

Edie set down her fork, glancing at the clock on her phone. “Speaking of time, it’s still early enough that we could hit the market before it gets too hot. We need to grab some stuff for tonight anyway.”

Oscar perked up, leaning back in his chair. “The market sounds good. It’s not far, and we can get there before the sun decides to fry us alive. Plus, we can stock up on snacks. I’m thinking... fresh pastries, some local olives, maybe something sweet?”

Mae grinned, tapping her fingers on the table. “Count me in. I want to see what kind of cool stuff they have. And maybe pick up something to annoy Hattie. It’s like, a sibling rite of passage.”

Hattie rolled her eyes but smiled, taking a sip of her coffee. “Sure, Mae. I’ll make sure to keep you far away from anything that looks remotely like a musical instrument. I don’t need another round of impromptu concert performances.”

I glanced around the table, feeling a swell of excitement at the idea of exploring the local market with them. It was the kind of spontaneous plan that felt like the perfect way to spend the morning—just wandering around, sampling local food, and maybe picking up a few souvenirs. And, of course, the thought of more time spent with Oscar, in and out of playful jabs, wasn’t exactly unappealing.

“Sounds like a plan,” I said, pushing back my plate and stretching my arms. “But we better go soon before it really heats up out there. I’m not trying to become a melted puddle on the sidewalk.”

Mae let out a dramatic groan, fanning herself with a napkin. “Seriously, I already feel like I’m halfway to becoming a human popsicle. Let’s move before I turn into a puddle of regrets.”

Oscar chuckled, leaning back in his chair as he finished the last of his juice. “Don’t worry, Mae. We’ll keep you hydrated. And who knows? Maybe you’ll find a portable fan to add to your collection of weird market finds.”

Mae shot him a playful glare. “I’m not the one who bought that weird wooden frog last time, Oscar. That was all you. But if I find a fan, I’m buying it. Consider it an investment in my survival.”

Oscar held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, but if anyone finds a fan that also doubles as a weapon, I call dibs. You know, just in case I need to defend myself from any more surprise attacks.” He shot me a teasing look, and I couldn’t help but smile.

Edie laughed, wiping her hands on a napkin as she pushed her chair back. “Oscar, the day you need to defend yourself from anything other than your own bad decisions is the day we all need to start worrying.” She grabbed her sunglasses from the table, slipping them on with a flourish. “But I’ll keep an eye out for a fan-weapon hybrid. Seems like something that could really elevate your whole ‘I’m constantly under attack’ vibe.”

Oscar feigned offense, clutching his chest dramatically. “You wound me, Edie. But you know what? I’ll take the fan and the survival bragging rights. And when we’re all sweating buckets, just remember who thought ahead.”

Hattie shook her head, tossing her empty juice cup in the trash. “Let’s just get to the market before you guys end up buying the weirdest stuff just for the sake of it. We’re here for essentials, remember?”

Mae snorted, throwing her arm around Hattie’s shoulders as they headed toward the door. “Speak for yourself, Hattie. Some of us are here for the thrill of the hunt. And maybe a sun hat that screams ‘I’m on vacation and I don’t care.’”

Oscar turned to me, his eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief. “What about you? Got any market goals today? Weird trinkets, secret weapon fans, or just here to keep me out of trouble?”

I pretended to consider it, tapping my chin thoughtfully. “I think my goal is to keep you in just the right amount of trouble. Can’t have you getting too comfortable.” I winked, enjoying the easy flow of our banter, the way it felt like slipping into a well-worn routine despite how new it all was.

Oscar laughed, a low, warm sound that sent a flutter through my chest. “Deal. I’ll keep it interesting. And if I find anything particularly ridiculous, you’ll be the first to know.”

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author's note: a double update for my lovelies, so sorry i didn't update on sunday <3, i hope you enjoy chapters 5 and 6!!

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taglist! @mingyusbigrighttoe @theblueblub @demandealalune @linnygirl09 @fix5idiots

[salmonskinrolltf]

this is soooo embarrassing. I can’t believe I’m even typing it out. But dude, I’ve been a gaymer for as long as I remember. I’m 30 pounds too heavy. I’m 27 and living. With too many roommates in the suburbs. And well. I’ve been watching Glee lately. And I just got to the season around college and I was hoping I could rent some tapes. See, I’ve got this major crush on Darren’s character Blaine and itd be awesome to always be singing and dancing and having fun. I was never a theatre kid myself. Any chance you can help?

Almost like a miracle, right when you considered ordering a tape from Be Kind Rewind, one of your roommates got a VCR. You suppose. You’re not sure which one of them actually got it, but it’s right there, plugged into the TV in your living room, so someone must have. The only thing is, you’ve had to wait until everyone was out to use it. You double check that the door is locked and everybody is out for the evening. You’re embarrassed to be seen watching the show, but you’re embarrassed for another reason tonight, too. Because renting this tape feels like a special occasion, you’ve decided to cosplay as Blaine a little bit. Your hair is neatly slicked back and you’ve donned a cardigan and bow tie to match his put-together preppy look.

When you’re certain the coast is clear, you open the (thankfully discretely marked) package and a die rolls out into your hand. Oh yeah. The die thing. Weird. You toss it onto the coffee table and it lands on 4.

When the VCR whirs to life, you hear those a cappella credit trills that indicate whatever episode that was playing has already ended, so you jab the rewind button, humming the music quietly to yourself. You scratch your stomach and realize the fabric of your cardigan is much looser than it should be. You lift it up and see that your stomach has shrunk, flattening against your torso, which seems firmer and more lithe in general.

Stunned, you gaze at yourself in the nearest mirror, noticing how the new outfit looks even more Blaine-like after your bizarre transformation. In fact, everything is looking more Blaine-like. Your eyebrows thicken and darken, your slicked-back hair darkening along with them. As your lips plump up and your skin tans slightly, you realize you look like a total Blaine doppelganger. Your dick hardens in the thrift store pants you bought to match the overall preppy look. You look just like your crush! You’re not even questioning it, you just figure you must be dreaming or something. But even if you’re only dreaming, why let the opportunity pass you by to admire yourself more… privately?

In a daze, you wander into the bathroom. Instead of the pigsty it normally is, living with so many roommates, it looks neat and tidy. Tubs of hair gel neatly line the sides of the sink, and the mirror is decorated with playbills, a photo of Blaine and Kurt, and a bumper sticker for a local Lima, Ohio radio station. Not only do you look exactly like Blaine, you’re now in what seems to be his bathroom! You admire yourself in the mirror.

A thrill of excitement thrums through you and you unzip your pants, rubbing yourself at the thought of looking just like your crush.

As you pleasure yourself, you think about the various Glee characters you have the biggest crushes on. Could you use this VHS service to become them all? The thought makes you even more aroused. However, when Blaine returns to your mind, your dick deflates. Suddenly it feels wrong to be thinking about him. You try to cycle back through the other characters in your mind, but suddenly only the female ones come to mind. Brittany, Quinn, even Rachel. Your dick springs back to full hardness and you panic at the sudden shift in your sex drive. You shove your erection back into your pants but not before cum explodes into the sink. You hurriedly wipe it up with some toilet paper.

What the hell is going on? As you scrub, you don’t notice that the gel is slowly easing out of your hair, which curls and falls over your face in a more lackadaisical, unkempt fashion. Stubble sprouts from your cheeks, chin, and upper lip, slowly growing into a short beard. Your clothes morph from your preppy ensemble into more of a rocker vibe, your shredded T-shirt dipping into a V-neck that exposes the dark, matted chest hair that has been busy unfurling across your newly taut torso. 

Right when you flush the balled-up wad of TP, a voice interrupts your panic.

“What the hell are you doing in my bathroom?”

You turn to the doorway and see Blaine Anderson standing there. Wait, that can’t be. Weren’t you just him? You turn to look at yourself in the mirror and see a much more rugged, sloppy individual than the person you were just a moment before. You look like Blaine, but… different. Older, somehow. And more unkempt, definitely.

This intruder, on the other hand, looks exactly like Blaine. He also looks annoyed. He taps his toe and runs a hand across his impeccably coiffed hair. “This is why I asked Mom for my own bathroom, so I wouldn’t have to wait for you all the time. How is it that I use 12 hair products a day and you still take longer than I do for everything?”

You’re too shocked to say anything. You’re unsure whether you’re more shocked by the words he’s saying or the fact that Blaine is standing just feet away and you feel nothing about it whatsoever. As your brain sputters, your body kicks into autopilot and you shrug.

“The gays haven’t cornered the market on looking good just yet, little bro,” you chuckle, punching his arm as you head back out into the hallway, which now looks like one that belongs in a pristine suburban home. 

As you head back into your room, you notice that it looks entirely different. No game consoles in sight, just laundry strewn everywhere and a mini basketball hoop on the back of the doorway. You absent-mindedly toss a NERF basketball toward the hoop and it hits the rim, flying back in your direction and smacking you in the face, knocking you back onto the unkempt mattress that’s on the floor without a bed frame.

You groggily open your eyes and look around. Where the hell are you? Who the hell are you? You rack your brains. Oh yeah. David Anderson. Eldest son of one of the lamest families on the planet, smack dab in the middle of Buttfuck, Ohio. You scratch your hairy chest underneath your T-shirt and check the time.

You remember you have plans to grab some brews with the boys this evening before seeing the latest movie starring that hot actress you like, so you’d better head out quick so you can hit up the gym beforehand. You throw on your gym clothes, grab your water bottle, and rush out the door.

As you pass by your little bro’s room, you see him singing along to a Mariah Carey tune and practicing his dance moves. You roll your eyes good-naturedly. Singing and dancing aren’t for you, but you appreciate how into it he is. You figure that, for him, singing and dancing brings him the same joy that going to the gym and playing ball with your bros does for you. You leap up to smack the top of the door frame as you head outside, barely giving Blaine another thought as you walk down the street, anticipating the awesome evening ahead of you.

[cosmicourple]

Hello, it’s me again. Sorry for any spam, my side of tumblr sometimes glitches and don’t send asks. Still, I’m glad you like the Drabble I made. This one isn’t as long or good since I had a bit of writer’s block but here, I hope you enjoy it. Have a good day/night:

A lost dream, a lost song

“Countless time loops…” A lone voice sang, tired, grief-stricken yet reluctantly accepting the pain and plight. Darkness blanketed the skies, with the constellations as the only audience.

“Countless time loops I have played and tried… All just for one goal in mind…”

There’s no one else here…

“No one at my side, with each reset everything rewinds. With the exception of my mind…”

There’s no one else here…

“How long can I stay, spinning in this wheel of infinity… I can’t do this anymore-“

“So you will give up now? That would be pathetic, mortal.” There’s someone here.

“Poseidon?” Odysseus blinked, glistening eyes staring at the god of the seas as he rises towards him, the wave gently crashing against the cliff.

“I have grown tired of your bemoaning and laments Odysseus. Selene’s chariot has gone past halfway through the sky.” Poseidon said, crossing his arms. Odysseus, too scarred to be threatened, rolls his eyes. “Oh hush, you don’t know what I’ve gone through. What are you even doing here?”

“Do I need to repeat myself? Your bemoaning and laments have become truly irritating.” Poseidon scoffs, crossing his arms, careful not to aggravate his bandaged injuries.

“So you stuck around after our deal is done huh? Figured you be too salty to leave.” Odysseus shrugs with an amused smile, making the god glare at him in offence, “Excuse me?!”

“Just… Look, I don’t want to do this… We made a deal right? I beat you, you take my ships back home, and we already fulfilled each side of the bargain.” Odysseus then said, closing his eyes as he lets his tears fall, his smile strained and weak. His body slumped over, exhaustion wearing down his bones. “There’s no need for you to be here.”

“Hmph, the deal did not include me leaving you alone.” Poseidon pointed out, making the king sigh in defeat. “Yeah, you’re right on that. Just let me sing a little longer and no interrogating me about it… please.”

Poseidon held back a taunt and gloat, his eyes narrowed as he shifts to a more human appearance, sitting beside the mortal king on the ledge. Something in his heart aches from Odysseus’s pain, whatever it was, though Poseidon cannot tell why that is. He doesn’t know why he chose to stay after the deal where the mortal through some miracle had stomped on his pride, nor does he know why he felt the urge to comfort the man. Still, with a reluctant hand on the other’s back, Poseidon listens to Odysseus’s hymm.

“My heart grew big with love, a love that never could come back to me, ohh… Ohh~”

“Would they love me again? I highly doubt that, they might not even care… Not anymore, not like before…”

“I thought I would love one alone… But now more ensnared my… Heart… That’s so cruel, taking what I can’t get… Back……”

“..osei… Ze…. I lo……. Lik… I… ‘ove… m’wife…… I don………”

Poseidon didn’t know why he woke up with tears slowly cascading down his cheeks, nor why the last though he had before awakening from Hypnos’ realm was that wretched mortal. The god of earthquakes and seas huffs as he resumes his task on finding the coward. He may not remember what the dream was but it matters not, the mortal’s luck will run out soon and he will find glee in making him suffer and beg.

… He hastily dismisses the guilt and pain that clawed at his heart from such thoughts, he didn’t know why he felt such a thing but it didn’t matter. Why should he care? That mortal deserved no sympathy from him.

First off, itz completely cool ‘bout the glitches Anon <], & im glad u liked my,, enthusiastic feedback and writers block is a-okay with me (im pretty useless at getting my fic thoughts out as well, most of the time even haha :”)))

second,,,,,, DNJIYFSDYYGGGGT THE ODYSEIDON FOOD!1!!!1111!1!1!1!1!!!111!!!!!!!1!111!!!!!1!!!111!!1!1111!!!!!!!‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

MHMHHHMHH—- I love Ody’s’ song hhmhjjrss, him expressing a lil’ bit of his agony thru singing is soooo- kiss

mhehef Poseidon out here being guided by his subconscious’s Loop fee fee’s hehehe auuuuu this ship makes my brain itch 💥💥

OWSSWWWWW THE BIT AT THE END AS ODYSSEUS FALLS ASLEEP SINGING SORROWFULLY FOR ‘SEIDON, PENELOPE N ZEUS UUUUUOOOOOOOOOO—😭 every time these asks hurt me fuck man

HEHEHEHEHE OH THE FOOD!!!!!!!!!! THE TASTY FOOD😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋😋

again (4 the like, fifth time-) thank you so much 4 this imssdsvhjjfffb mmmmmm I love u platonically srs <]]3

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 15: Hide

Way behind with this but as most of you know, had some stuff going on. Really like how it turned out once I got past the block I was having. Hopefully you feel the same ^-^

Content warning: Mentions of blood, injury, death, reader discresion is advised

Word count: 1799

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It's quiet tonight. No one but yourself, feet propped up on the desk and the hum of the fan in the background of the security office. 

Which is, odd. You're pretty sure there's at least a few others on the schedule tonight. Did they just get started on their rounds before you came in? You were later than usual, but to be fair your shift was for later in the night than the others. You just came in early for the comradery and chit-chat. 

Your eyes lazily scan over the camera feeds, not seeing anything out of the ordinary. On the other hand however, you also realize you aren't seeing anyone. You sit up and start to click through the feeds, rewinding them to catch any trace of another person. 

Not a one. 

Frowning, you double check the group text. Sure enough, Rhoades, Conner, Jenson, and Garcia are all supposed to have a shift tonight. Rhoades, Jenson, and Conner were supposed to be here at six. And from what you can tell, they aren't. Garcia was on the late shift with you, so maybe he just decided to come in later like you had? You would have figured he be here by now though. 

You go back to the cameras, searching back further in the feed. After a good ten minutes-during which, it's still just you in the office-you finally spot something. Or someone, rather. Your eyes stay trained to the screen as you watch Connor jog across the atrium, in the direction of, the Daycare? Why in the world would he head over there? You keep watching. 

Sure enough, once he gets there he knocks on the door. It opens, and he's greeted by a red-eyed animatronic, who ushers him inside. There's no sign of Connor or any of the other guards on the cameras after that. 

An animatronic with red eyes... which one was that again-

Moon! That's right. Naptime attendant, blue and white color scheme, the hat. You'd told him you'd play a game with him sometime. You'll admit it had just been to get the, slightly creepy, animatronic off your back. But you can't deny he was kind of sweet in his own way. Maybe just misunderstood.

Since it seemed like he was the last person to see at least Connor, maybe he knew where the other two had ended up as well. It was worth a shot, anyway. You could also use it as a chance to play that game finally. 

You get up with a stretch, grab your keys and head out. Whistling a little tune while on your way. When you get to the Daycare, you see it's still on the night cycle, which is fine with you, you don't know if you really felt like dealing with the sunny counterpart of the bot you were looking for. 

You knock on the big wooden doors, and wait. 

There's a jingling sound from up above you, you look up. 

Moon's perched on the ledge above the great doors. 

You lift your hand in greeting, "Oh, hey Moon! Have a question for you real quick. You free?"

His faceplate spins, you take that as a yes. 

"I'm looking for the other guards," You shove your hands in your pockets, "You seen 'em? Looked like Connor may have swung by earlier."

His voice is a rasp as he answers you, "They're playing a game."

"What kind of game?"

The bot's eyes narrow with glee, "Hide 'n seek."

"Oh, that's fun. I still owe you a round of something don't I?" You ask.

He nods.

You nod as well, thinking for a moment then shrugging, "Well, guess that answers that question. I'll be on my way then."

You turn on your heel and start walking away, when Moon speaks up.

"Would you like to play?"

You pause, another shrug and you look back to him, "Sure, I don't see why not. Any special rules?"

Moon jumps down from the ledge with a whoosh. Once he stands he points a finger at you, "You hide," Now back to himself, "I seek. Don't get caught."

The 'Or else.' isn't said aloud but you can certainly feel it. You ignore the feeling in your stomach.

"Okay, how much time do I have?"

Moon jumps back up, latching himself to the wire which hangs from the ceiling, "Ten minutes. Good luck~" Then he's gone without much more than a chuckle.

You set off, in the hopes of also finding everyone else while you're at it. You know your coworkers well, or well enough anyway, and if you had to take a guess, Rhodes would probably hide away over by El Chips because he liked to swipe wrong orders and make them his dinner. 

You make easy time-still about seven minutes left to hide-and find El Chips, totally abandoned. Rhoades must not be here. Not even any staff bots are around, and the lights are out. Weird, but the Plex was closed so there wasn't really a reason for the place to be open, though you recall it usually is regardless of the time. Fazbear Entertainment didn't care about electric bills, or the environment. 

You walk in, unsure, but reason if nothing else it'll make a good hiding spot. Your first thought it is to duck underneath the counter, so after leaping over it, you do. As you squat down you're surprised to find the very coworker you'd been looking for. 

"Oh, Rhoades! Nice hiding spot-"

He shoves his hands over your mouth, "Don't. Make. Another sound. Please."

Taking a second glance you realize he's shaking, and overall looks disheveled. His eyes are wide and his hair is all over the place. 

Confused, you nod slowly and he relaxes, removing his hands. There's a metallic smell under your nose now. You soon find out why. 

"I can't believe you even made it this far, how the hell did that thing not catch you?" He whispers harshly, rubbing a hand across his neck and wincing. It's dark in here, but you can clearly tell that it's blood. 

You keep your voice just as low, now worried, "What thing? What are you talking about? What's going on? Are you alright?"

"The daycare attendant. He's been plucking us off one by one all night. Lured us in during patrol, said he wanted to play a game. Little did we know it'd be fucking bloody murder," Rhoades shakes his head, "He only nicked me, but Christ when he caught Jenson, the poor girl, she just wouldn't stop screaming."

He puts his head in his hands, you hear a muffled sob, before he sniffs, looking back to you, "I don't know what's happened to the others. Thought Connor would be safe since he was the last one in the office, but given you're here he must've tried to come save the day, stupid kid. Garcia's quick-witted though, if any of us make it through this I've no doubt it'll be him."

"Jenson's... dead?" You ask softly. You're doing your best to process everything. It's not going well. 

Rhoades has a far off look in his eyes now, something's telling you it wasn't just a nick, "I wish we could've warned you, wish you didn't have to go through this too."

"I-" Your mouth clamps shut when you hear it. Bells. 

They're faint, well outside of the restaurant. But that doesn't mean they'll stay that way.

Your coworker must have heard too, his posture straightens a bit. 

You look over to him, wide-eyed and far too afraid to speak. 

"Go." He mouths. 

You shake your head, and point to him. 

He smiles, it's... sad. Slowly, silently, he turns his upper body and you have to slap a hand over your mouth to keep from gasping. 

You can't hardly tell the difference between the claw marks, the blood, and the remains of his shirt as it clings to his back. 

The bells are louder now, Rhoades nods towards the kitchen entryway. Again, you shake your head, tears welling up. You know what he wants to do, what he's going to do, and how desperately you want to stop it.

But he's not giving you a choice.

As the naptime attendant gets closer, the guard holds up ten shaky fingers, dropping them one by one. 

You have to move. If you want to make it out of here alive, you have to move. 

You curse to yourself and quietly crawl towards the kitchen. When you’re in the space, and out of eyeshot of the restaurant as a whole, you shakily stand and head to the back entrance. 

Out in the dining room, all you can hear is snickering and jingling. As your hand grips the handle you have hope that maybe the two of you were wrong, but when you realize the handle won't budge, your heart sinks. You take a deep breath, and pull out your keycard, holding it just above the slot in the door. 

And wait. 

...

...

...

A loud crash erupts from behind the counter, the sound of a cash register, plastic cups, and over various items from the shelves as they come crashing down breaks the dead silence. In the midst of it you swipe the card, the door beeping as it unlocks and you rapidly open and close it. 

Pressing yourself up against the other side, you hold back a sob as all you can hear are your friend's screams as- 

You shake your head, swallowing the lump in your throat. 

You have to survive. You have to make it out. 

You won't let his sacrifice be in vein. 

You straighten up, and take a moment to collect your thoughts. And your belongings. 

You had a flashlight, a taser, your walkie, and a keycard. Your phone had no signal because of company policy, so you couldn't make any calls. The walkie was your next best bet. If you could contact Garcia and maybe Connor without blowing their covers, well, three was better than one. 

Once you've formulated your plan, and you're about to enact it is when there's a soft scratching sound on the other side of the door. You freeze. 

Glancing down, you see a dark red shadow underneath the crack. 

"Hidey-hide, hide away~" A chuckle, then a loud grating sound as claws dig into the other side harshly, "You're running out of friends, Little Star."

You don't answer, you wouldn't have even if you could.

Moon makes a noise of frustration, fist pounding on the other side, "Shouldn't have played tricks. Wouldn't be winning bad prizes."

Again, you remain silent. 

You wait a few minutes more, after the shadow has disappeared, before you move away from the door. 

Another deep, and near silent breath. 

Hide. Don't get caught.

Or else.

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Yes, there'll be a part two, it's Day 17 lol, sorry it's not super DCA focused! Moon haunts the narrative tho so I think it still works. Other promptobers are here, check them out if you'd like ^-^ Thanks for reading!!

[tideswept]

Oh god, please continue the Kindness AU! It hit me right in the heart, and now I just wanna see how Obi-Wan reacts and deals with the implications and consequences.

(From this ask!)

But it would be so saaaaad. D: D: Obi-Wan would be coming back, braced for anger and disappointment but he figures they can talk about it, he can reason (hah) Anakin down from his fury over the deception, it was for the good of the Republic, etc., etc--

But now even that's gone. There's no argument. Just an Anakin that looks at him with a slight frown and awkwardness because Anakin knows he should know who Obi-Wan is, and that he should be mad that the man pretended to be dead, but apparently they don't even have that kind of a relationship? Force, how pathetic was he, to be so in love with someone that didn't love him?

(Oh, Palpatine would be rubbing his hands in glee...)

Obi-Wan would have to answer so many awkward conversations and insist, over and over, that really, they didn't, it wasn't like that with them, they never behaved inappropriately. (But in the back of his mind he's rewinding every minute of their lives since he turned Anakin down, everything is now colored differently, knowing what he does now, but not even able to ask Anakin or even apologize--there's no more talking. The door isn't just closed, it was carefully removed and built over and sealed new. The love is gone.)

Well. Anakin's love is gone.

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV Ep6 - Rewind the Tape

"After Louis tells Claudia that Lestat wants him to know he's still cheating, Claudia compares Lestat to her rapist, with the show literally putting Bruce's image over his. Immediately after, Louis' narration tells us he'd become numb and dissociated, "a vessel of acceptance." What do you think Claudia, Louis, and the show itself are suggesting about consent in this new domestic arrangement?"

@iwtvfanevents

A lot of the fandom H A T E S that Claudia was raped (even more than the Loustat fight), and they especially hate what Rolin Jones said about it toughening her up. But despite its inclusion/execution/explanation, I DO see where RJ was going with it all; as I've also mentioned how Claudia & Louis were deliberately put on the same level, as were Lestat and Bruce.

We know Carol Cutshall designed Lestat's matador costume for the "villain sequence" in Ep5 to emphasize his patriarchal hegemony over "the housewife and the mistake." Matador in Spanish literally means "killer." Through the matador costume, AMC brilliantly tied the Wolfkiller Lestat with Bruce the Killer.

We also have a hard time w/ instances of physical/sexual violence by Les against Lou--I saw a spicy post just the other day about whether or not the Disassociating scene was Les raping Lou or not.

I think in Lou's mind, sex with Les while he was disassociating wasn't rape. Louis himself pointed out that Lestat's affair with Antoinette was all tangled up in Lou's lack of libido due to his diet; and his later depression, ignoring Les' "considerable considerables." He WANTS Lestat ("I wanted him dead, I wanted him all to myself"), and when he comes back online he IS into it, cuz he loves the stupid man. I think he DOES consent, and TRIES to stay present--but "there were THREE of you" in that bed, and in that relationship.

I think in Claudia's mind, Lestat really was raping Louis. I think SHE had put Lestat & Bruce on the same level, convinced that Les felt the same way about Lou that Bruce did about her--and that Lou felt the same way about Les that she did--not understanding Loustat at all.

Claudia trips people up a lot wrt arrested development & stunted growth--she's either a little girl or a SUPER old woman or both or neither. How much can she REALLY know, process & experience?

Cuz in some ways, AMC!Lestat (& book!Louis) kinda did rape Claudia. Aside from the more sexual meaning, one can take "rape" in the original Latin sense (rapio/rapere: "to snatch, grab, carry off, abduct, rape, steal"); or we can take it in the vampiric sense, turning Claudia without her consent, and force/violence done to one's fledglings. Les is a bad Maker to Louis, but GODAWFUL to Claudia.

Lestat even puts himself above & beyond Bruce, saying he can and WILL do far worse than "defiling her pocket;" he'll KILL her.

Lestat snatched away Claudia's consent, & snatched her from the train crying & sobbing. He violated her autonomy just like he'd violated her privacy by reading her diary when Louis told him not to.

And what's sad is that because Claudia's a sadist like her father, she was initially charmed by Bruce & how he killed; just like she was charmed by Lestat's "extravagant" killing style. "He had a way about him." AMC!Claudia's the one who gives Bruce his epithet, but in the books his his name's just Killer (IIRC he's never given a real name).

But we soon see the gradual jadedness in Claudia. Her killing loses the bubbly giggling glee from her early years, as she becomes cold & far more calculating/methodical. Plus, she realizes that the men in her life that she initially THOUGHT were great heroes & "knights" & "angels" that had saved her, were really just HELL DEMONS. Lestat's not a cheeky "Brat" anymore, he's the frikkin Devil. The "darkness in her that wasn't there before" Lestat talks about is just REALITY; the dawning realization that Lestat, Louis, Bruce, NONE of these men were good to her. All good things died with Charlie.

She's desperate to go to Europe, cuz she's holding onto hope like a lifeline, that not all vampires are as bad as Bruce & Lestat. Unfortunately, Lestat was right when he said they're actually vicious and "far worse" in Europe. 😬

[honeybeeloxs]

SOBER FRIEND

Ethan Landry X Male Reader

This was very much inspired by Cici Cooper’s leadup. sooo... yea that’s it :)

REQUESTED: No

SUMMARY:

SPOILERS FOR SCREAM 6 (Sorta of)

Y/N picks up the landline and is interrupted by a call from "L/N residence". He asks the caller if he's Ethan and if he should stop with the Ghostface voice changer.

A not so follow up of Part 1.

RING… RING…

Y/N picks up the landline, “Hello?”, He tenses up, waiting for a response. “Sorry, forgot to call you back.” the person on the other line responds. “Jesus, Jessie, you fucking scared me. Y/N sighs; with the crazed killer stalking around campus trying to kill Sam and Tara, it was pretty scary. “Yeah, sorry about that!” Jessie says with glee. Y/N rewinds the movie he’s watching. “What are you watching? It’s so loud I can hear through the phone.” Y/N pauses momentarily, trying to think of the movie name, “Uh… Cruel Intentions? Y’know, the movie from like 99..” Jessie scoffs over the movie choice and mocks him, “I haven’t seen it in forever. Aren’t Sarah Michelle Gellar and the guy like together?” Y/N lies down on his side, holding the landline with his shoulder. “No? Are you crazy? They are like step-siblings.” They chat momentarily; however, their conversation is interrupted. 

Y/N rolls his eyes before telling Jessie he’s getting another call, “L/N residence.” Y/N says quietly over the phone, “Hello.” the caller says, Y/N stops the movie and puts it in ‘In my Watch-List’ before going back to cable and flipping through the channels. “Yes?’, The caller asks Y/N who he’s speaking too. “Uhm... Y/N, Who’s this?” Y/N stops momentarily, and he’s been telling his business this whole time. He can’t stop now, “Who do you think?” the caller asks, intrigued Y/N asks the caller if he’s Ethan and that he should stop with the Ghostface voice changer; Y/N doesn’t like it when he plays those games before he can respond Y/N tells him to hold on before changing lines. 

“Ethan’s on the other line.” Y/N tells Jessie, who scoffs, and he can practically see her eyes roll, “Listen, I’ll call you right back, okay? Alright, bye.” Y/N huffs before switching lines, “Okay, Ethan, what’s up? Chad giving you a hard time?” The caller immediately responds, “Who’s Ethan?”. Y/N’s eyes face the phone as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion; he chuckles to himself, “Oh, I’m sorry, my bad, I thought you were my boyfriend.” a smile creeps on his face as he gets up from the couch before locking the glass door in front of his living room. “Oh, that’s okay.” the caller tells him; Y/N walks around his house, looking out his windows before heading back to the couch, “Well, Mr. mysterious, would you like to leave a message? Nobody’s here.” as his torso slides back on the couch laying on his side once more. “Where is everybody?” the caller asks, intrigued. “Parents, out of town, staying with them for this semester, and my friends are at another Halloween frat party,” Y/N asks, flipping through the channels going from CBS to MTV. “Why aren’t you there?” the caller asks; Y/N finally stops his converting through channels to look at a building on fire in Australia, “I’m a sober friend, in case someone needs a ride… drink with your brain, that’s our groups' motto, are you calling for my mom? Do you need to leave her a message?”. Y/N questions messing with the tassels on the couch pillows, “What if I say you're the message.” Y/N can’t stop himself from smiling before slowly getting up from lying to sitting upright. “Well, what if I hung up?” the caller asks why he would want to do that, “Well, why did you answer my question with a question?” Y/N looks around his living room, looking out the big glass windows. “I’m inquisitive.” the man on the other line tells him, but Y/N interrupts him, “Well, I’m impatient. Do you wanna leave a message for anyone?” his face scrunches up in annoyance. “Do you wanna die tonight, Y/N” the mystery caller hangs up. Y/N throws the phone on the floor before getting up from the couch, eyeing the phone.

RING… RING…

The landline rings, and hesitantly Y/N picks it up, “L/N residence…” he is relieved when it turns out to be Jessie, “So? Was it, Landry?” Jessie comments, and he can tell she’s taunting him by her voice. Y/N brushes his white pants off, “No… It wasn’t, and it was some creep asshole trying to scare me.” Y/N stutters as he walks to the kitchen and locks the door before looking out the windows. “Well, they have been getting calls like that all around the city; it happened to Anika yesterday, Ms. Crane and Jason got one a few days back, and you know what happened to them,” Jessie comments; Y/N tells her that’s not funny as he locks the front door. Y/N jumps as he hears a thud upstairs, “Fuck this.” he says as he opens his sliding door and runs into the backyard.

“Where are you? You’re breaking up?” Jessie calls out to him, static over the line. “I’m outside….” Y/N stops and looks around; Jessie tells him to back inside and call the police; that is an intelligent decision. Y/N tells Jessie his farewells before hanging up and calling the police through the landline, His cell is on his desk, but he’s not going there. Y/N panics over the phone, telling them someone’s harassing him, but his phone call is interrupted when his patio table flies through the window by the living. Y/N screams as he runs to the kitchen with Ghostface’s chasing him, his tassels flying. He grabs a kitchen knife holding it out as Ghostface corners him in the kitchen. 

The Ghostface lifts his mask to reveal himself as Ethan; Y/N could only smile, “Jesus, shit, you scared me. Next time you do this to practice, don’t throw my patio table through my window.” Y/N leans over his kitchen island, putting the knife back into the knife block. “I’m sorry, babe, Quinn recommended me the idea, me scaring you n all.” Y/N could only bite his check; of course, it was Quinn. “Well, you need your dad to fix the window you broke before my parents notice.” Ethan walks up to him from behind and puts his head on the back of his neck. “Mkay… I'll do that.” 

[sopheadraws]

Thanks for the tag, @birdofmay!

Okay, so I don't actually have any playlists of my own; I entirely use playlists made by other people/generated by Spotify/actual albums, so I had to improvise. I stuck all six Spotify "Daily Mixes", my top 100 songs of 2021, 2022, and 202; my "On Repeat" playlist, and my "Repeat Rewind" playlist into a brand new playlist that contains 563 songs. I'm not good about favoriting songs, so I thought this was the fairest system. Some songs I don't actually know may come out of the Daily Mixes, so if that happens, I'll listen to it for the first time. Okay, cool.

1. Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran do a cover of the "Thriller/Heads Will Roll" Glee mashup.

Well, Taylor and Ed are two people, and this is a duet, so that's a good start. However, that's as far as my enthusiasm goes. Taylor has a *good* voice, however, she's not really a belter, which is all the "Heads Will Roll" part is. And Ed Sheeran covering Michael Jackson is not something that needs to happen.

2. The Warblers from Glee cover "I Feel Pretty/Unpretty"...also from Glee.

This is a song a female insecurity (arguably with lesbian undertones). I do not want an all male a cappella group involving themselves. Terrible idea.

3. Johnny Cash covers "Girl on Fire". Specifically the Glee arrangement.

This is so stupid that I love it. Johnny "Ring-Of-Fire" Cash covering a 2010s pop song about a woman being metaphorically on fire is hilarious to me. And the Glee arrangement is the icing on the cake.

4. Johnny Cash covers "champagne problems" by Taylor Swift.

Interesting that I got Johnny Cash twice in a row. Anyways, I think this just might work. I can't explain why. But it would.

5. Brittany from Glee covers "Million Reasons" by Lady Gaga.

Brittany can only really pull off heavily produced dance pop, and this song is a belting-heavy ballad. Sorry, Britt, but it's a no for me.

6. Simon & Garfunkel cover "obsessed" by Olivia Rodrigo.

I can't * f a t h o m * how this would sound. I am intrigued to hear it, but I sense it would be terrible. But, then again, Paul Simon is a musical genius and I could listen to Art Garfunkel sing anything.

7. Natasha Bedingfeld covers "Last Kiss" by Taylor Swift.

Natasha Bedingfeld is one of the never-heard-of-this-person-before-in-my-life musicians I warned you might appear on this playlist. Having heard one song, she's a generic pop artist. Sort of a Beyoncé vibe. I'm sure she'd do just fine covering Taylor.

8. Avril Lavigne covers "Operator" by Jim Croce.

Avril is another person I don't actually listen to (I actually know who she is this time). Uhh.. this cover would be wack, but I'm not sure if it's wack in a good or bad way.

9. Darren Criss covers "Talkin' Bout a Revolution" by Tracy Chapman.

(Yes, this was a DC original song, not a Glee cover.) Okay, so, having been on Glee, Darren knows how to do a killer cover, and I'm sure this would be no different. Kind of a tone deaf song selection on his part, however.

10. Olivia Rodrigo covers "Heaven Is A Place on Earth" by Belinda Carlisle.

I do know this song, and it's not *out* of my taste range, but I don't think I've ever listened to it on Spotify before, so. Anyways, I think this is the best combination I've gotten! I really want to hear this now! Best for last!

Well, Sina, and these the crazy combinations you expected from me? Very Glee heavy and most of the combinations would be horrid, which seems in character.

I would like to see what @doctor-whu @porcelainvino @wheresurboytonighthelookslikeenj @katyobsesses @angelhummel and @hevanderson get if you want to try :))

[justasecretflower]

Reader keeps Ben Drowned’s heart healed by Christ, and Ben Drowned is no longer malevolent spirit anymore. He is purified, and Ben Drowned was like Link, and Reader was like Zelda. Reader is Ben Drowned’s favorite person, Reader is like Ben Drowned’s savior and light, Also what about later on, Ben Drowned have to leave Reader towards heaven, Ben Drowned does becoming an angel and have to leave earth forever. ✝️🥀

Thanks for the request🤍

🥀+ ✝️ Ben drowned! Going to heaven 💕 invisible string

Ben x Zelda! Princess! reader

~angst.

____________________________________________

The gentle melodic rhythm of the flute plays as I press the keys, Ben looking up at me with his eyes sparkling. Ever since ben had gotten saved and the vengeance from his soul washed away he’s been tucked in a quiet forest. With me visiting him whenever I can escape royal duties. The sun peeking through the trees, animals going up to the both of us to greet us and stay for a little bit, the butterflies flying around majestically, everything was peaceful.

Ben smiled, letting out a small laugh. Leaning against me. In a way we found comfort within each other. Talking about our past experiences, learning how to accept them and find peace. My blue dress sparkled in the dewy sun and my jewelry glittered and shone. “Ben how are you feeling?” I ask, leaning back on him and reaching a palm out for a dove to land on. “At peace.” Ben’s blue eyes glowed, no longer having the blacked out eyes and instead oceanic blue ones like the ones he had when he was living. Ben pet the bird with a finger, speaking up. “Where do you find yourself in 5 years y/n?”

I think. There’s not much of a purpose for me, really. I’m a princess and I’ll get married , have children, and then die. “Married off.” I mumble, petting the soft dove as my mind fills up with thoughts about my undeniably bland future. Ben frowns a little “will you love him?” He asks. “It doesn’t matter.” I say, and it doesn’t. As long as we’re semi good to each other it won’t matter. “I think it’s important that you love him.” Ben mumbles.

I hum in agreement. Taking a daisy gently in my hand.

_______________________________________

I laugh loudly, feeling the glee fill my body up and warming me. “Ben!” I yell. Ben, who is now swinging on a random tree branch and scuffing up his hands.

Ben giggles. Hoping down with an infectious smile plastered on his youthful face. We settle down near a log. “Hey y/n…” Ben says, his voice etched with a whimsical tone, like he was so far away yet so close. “Hey Ben” I reply back, a smile still on my face.

“I’m crossing over to heaven soon.” Ben admitted. My heart tore in two; one part significantly bigger than the other. Ben was such a huge part of my life, I thought he’d always be here, his laugh in the trees, his footprints in the earthy, rich soil, his cheery voice comforting the merciful birds and the most aggressive of bears. I thought we’d stay the same forever, but youth slips through the fingers of many, no matter how tight you grip.

A tear slips down my face but I don’t even feel it, my body feeling the hurt before my brain processed it. “Not soon actually; today.” Ben almost whispered. Time was a scary thing. It’s so hard to obtain yet so easy to loose. We all want to stop it, but it never listens. In theory, time, is the most vicious thing of all.

He stood up straight, his ivory skin getting haloed by a white glow. I reach out for him, wishing that the clock could rewind backwards, that I could know him before death claimed him. “Come back” I whisper, my emotion, my thoughts, my heart lodged in my throat, like an invisible chain wrapped around my neck and was tied impossibly tight. “I hope you find what you’re looking for y/n” “I’m looking for you. Always, during the day, the afternoon, the night under the milky stars, in every life, of every second.” I plea, my voice breaking.

He was my best friend, a brother I never had, a half of my heart I thought I’d never have. I felt our invisible string teether with each passing moment that the glow got brighter. Ben teared up as well. “I couldn’t tell you before, I wanted our last moments together to be of ignorant bliss.” I feel dizzy, his body was almost fully turned into white glowing butterflies. Butterflies, their transformation similar to bens. From wishing everyday that he could be braver, to wishing everyday he could be dead, to wishing everyday he could be alive, to..peace, beautiful, warm peace.

“Keep your head up, y/n” Ben echoed.

“as time slips through your fingers enjoy the warmth of every peaceful moment, love the peace, and find the sun in the storm.”

Our invisible string, finally broke, tears slipped down, as I grasped at the glowing white butterflies, flying higher.

Im so bad at writing angst I can’t do it 💀

Tags

[thatliminal-wanderer]

Squiggles (Generation Loss) ID Pack

Requested by Anon

Names

Ace, Adam, Albert, Aldan, Alden, Aldon, Aldwin, Alexandria, Alfred, Alice, Alpha, Alvin, Alvis, Alvy, Alwyn, Amit, Amity, Andrew, Angelica, Anissa, Ann, Anna, Anne, Anthony, Archie, Arthur, Arwin, Ash, Ashna, Audrey, Austar, Baldwin, Barney, Bartholomew, Bellamy, Ben, Billy, Bit, Bob, Bruno, Buddy, Buzz, Cad, Caden, Cass, Ced, Cederick, Cedrick, Cedrik, Charlie, Chester, Clarissa, Dakota, Dakotah, Damien, Darwin, Darwyn, David, Edwin, Einstein, Elliot, Elwin, Ernie, Ferris, Frank, Gamba, Graham, Harold, Hedley, Horatio, Irwin, Jordan, Kadeen, Kahil, Kaira, Kaleel, Kalid, Karah, Khalee, Khaleel, Khalil, Khalilah, Lefty, Lewis, Liz, Lucky, Maitreya, Marble, Margaret, Marty, Marx, Mary, Meet, Mitra, Mitul, Noddy, Patrick, Pete, Quicky, Rafee, Rafiki, Rob, Rosemary, Ruth, Ruthie, Samara, Sedric, Sidney, Snap, Soumil, Stephen, Takoda, Wade, Wayne, Willow, Yadira, Yara, Zach, Zamil

Pronouns

ar/archive/archives, camera/cameras, cassette/cassetes, dark/darks, distort/distorts, file/files, footage/footages, fourth/fourths, fun/funs, game/games, glee/glees, goober/goobers, laugh/laughs, lost/losts, luck/lucks, mascot/mascots, radio/radios, record/records, rewind/rewinds, scare/scares, show/shows, signal/signals, silly/sillys, spook/spooks, stalk/stalks, static/statics, talk/talks, tape/tapes, wall/walls, watch/watchs, 🌐/🌐s, 🎞️/🎞️s, 🎭/🎭s, 🎮/🎮s, 🎰/🎰s, 👁️/👁️s, 👤/👤s, 📞/📞s, 📺/📺s, 🦝/🦝s, 🪡/🪡s

Titles

Showfall’s Little Face of Joy, The False Joy, The Joyful Watcher, The Judge of Life or Death, The Mascot That Loves The Viewers, The One Who Knows About The Show, The One Who Let’s The Viewers Choose, The One Who May Write The Script, The Show’s Mascot, [prn] Who Speaks to The Audience, [prns] The One Who Watches

Genders

Analogender, Analoghorrorgender, Foundfootagehorroric, G!squigglesgender, Genderlog, Horroraveil, Humornoxic, Oldinternetfriendic, Redroomic, Sweetnsillygender, Videourawarec, Vitciwatchic, Webhorroric

Other mogai

Alderanalora, Chat Omninoun, Error Omninoun, Horrorvior