#gosh they've been through so much

[manawari]

And now I'm sad.

And I'm a mess.

[maraczeks]

bcs s4 thread pt 1

[astonmartinii]

no more ace to play [mamma mia part two] | formula one social media au

drivers: sebastian vettel, fernando alonso and jenson button

the investigation was fruitful but now y/n has a handful of drivers and a bucket load of criticism

general note: i answered an ask about this but i thought i'd reiterate here, this is a no wives or kids au, so seb and jenson's wives and kids do not exist in this !! thank you so much for all the lovely feedback on the last part, hopefully i remembered to tag everyone who asked x

part one | masterlist | ko-fi

yourusername

liked by sebastianvettel, jensonbutton and 1.405,605 others

tagged: fernandoalo_oficial, sebastianvettel, jensonbutton

yourusername: so i guess it's kinda real now and they're all lovely x

view all comments

user4: i know the bitter old people are going to find this now but i for one think it's fucking ICONIC

user5: the guys are way too chill for the situation

user6: they've not said anything, so how would you know?

user5: idk reeks of babytrapping

user7: be for real y/n doesn't need to baby trap anyone she has her own career?

yourbff: debrief needed STAT

yourusername: literally on my way to yours right now get the non-alcoholic wine READY

landonorris: do i like get a prize for my hand in this?

yourusername: here's a gold star ⭐️

landonorris: i was hoping for some monetary rewards

yourusername: ur literally a millionaire ?

landonorris: and?

user8: are any of them gonna like comment or?

user9: very odd considering they wouldn't shut THE FUCK UP on their own posts

user10: for real they were very proud of their 'accomplishments' but now it's the consequences of their actions and theyre silent ?

user11: have yall considered the fact that finding out you might be a dad is a bit of a shock, let them all process it?

jensonbutton

liked by lewishamilton, sebastianvettel and 302,889 others

jensonbutton: back to see the old rides

view all comments

user12: SPILL JENSON PLEASE

user13: so like what team is this kid going to support they've got so much to choose from?

user14: if they have any taste, ferrari 💅

user15: i mean their momma clearly has taste so ....

oscarpiastri: nice to meet you jenson!

jensonbutton: by how much mark talks about you i could've sworn i'd already met you

aussiegrit: bold of you to send shots my way considering your current predicament

user16: mark saying this like they aren't lucky to be with y/n ?

user17: bro we all saw that you met up with y/n and the baby daddy squad... wanna maybe share some thoughts?

user18: why would he want to publicise that he got with a slag?

user17: i know you're not calling y/n a slag when we're talking about f1 playboy JENSON BUTTON ?

user19: i have complete faith that this mamma mia summer WILL have a good ending but i NEED these men to maybe actually talk about it so people aren't just out here coming for y/n ?

yourusername

liked by fernandoalo_oficial, jensonbutton and 1,209,677 others

yourusername: got myself a sweet treat and did some meditation (i.e. listening to asmr roleplay) because life is crazy and morning sickness is a bitch

view all comments

user24: not to be sappy but i am emotional watching y/n go through this, she's been on the internet for so long i feel like i've watched her grow up, idk anything about f1 but i hope they're good for her

yourbff: gosh who knew you getting pregnant would lead to us having to go to the bakery every single morning

yourusername: but but but they have such good croissants and SHUSH I BUY YOU YOURS EVERYDAY

yourbff: i know you're like my sugar mama, please still buy me pastries when you have your actual child

user25: i think we're all being a wee bit dramatic about the whole "they haven't said anything" business. yes, they probably should say they're fine with it so people stop accusing y/n of baby trapping them but ALSO we don't know what they do everyday, maybe we should just let the adults go about their business

charles_leclerc: i am basically seb's kid so i shall be a character witness: that man is an ANGEL and believe me that took a lot for me to say in public lol

yourusername: why thank you charles, i have heard a lot about you. in fact on his "provisional dad cv", sebastian directly named you, some guys called max verstappen, mick schumacher and lance stroll as fatherly experience

maxverstappen1: LOL I KNEW SEB LOVED ME BUT WTF IS A DAD CV

sebastianvettel: this is a serious matter and i wanted to show that i'm serious about fatherhood

mickschumacher: soz max, charles and lance i think WE all know who his favourite is

lancestroll: i'm just happy to be recognised tbf

yourusername: well i kinda hope this real child will be his favourite...

charles_leclerc: boring 🥱

alexalbon: well i'm gonna nominate myself as jenson's grid kid and woah that guy is great 👍

jensonbutton: sounds kinda sarcastic but thanks for the effort alex

carlossainz55: seeing as we're all here i'll say that nando is the best grid dad sorry not sorry

yourusername: you're all here but idk who you people are ?

fernandoalo_oficial: chilli have i ever told you how proud i am of you?

stoffelvandoorne: do i mean nothing to you old man

user26: wtf is going on here

fernandoalo_oficial

liked by yourusername, sebastianvettel and 1,403,677 others

fernandoalo_oficial: what a race! thankful to finally be back on the podium this weekend and i'd like to dedicate this race to the soon-to-be new addition and my new family, here's to our future ❤️

view all comments

user27: HOLY SHIT THIS IS SO CUTE

user28: i'm sorry the THUMB IN THE MOUTH CELEBRATION ARE YOU KIDDING?

jensonbutton: proud of you, come home quick x

user29: i'm sooooo chill about this

fernandoalo_oficial: i'll make sure to tell the team that THE jenson button wants the meeting to go faster

sebastianvettel: do i mean nothing? that's literally my old team name drop ME

yourusername: just tell them i've gone into labour

fernandoalo_oficial: you've not even been pregnant two months yet...

yourusername: they don't know that

astonmartinf1: this is a public instagram comment section...

maxverstappen1: maybe when the little one is actually here i'll let you win for once

fernandoalo_oficial: how kind of you?

maxverstappen1: i need the little one to know that at least one of you is cool and that i should be their favourite god father

lewishamilton: now that is a bold assumption

danielricciardo: i have been quiet on this topic but if anyone is prime god father material YOU'RE LOOKING AT HIM

yourusername: you'll all receive an email and a god father application in the coming weeks

charles_leclerc: is this another seb idea?

yourusername: maybe... but idk yall so i think it's a good idea

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, mickschumacher and 1,509,874 others

tagged: jensonbutton, fernandoalo_oficial, sebastianvettel

yourusername: welcome to the crazy house

view all comments

user33: so we've confirmed the poly? yes or no?

user34: i'm gonna say yes but with them you literally never know

georgerussell63: so we all sent them a jellycat?

alexalbon: speak for yourself george that sick ass rocking bunny is all albon

user35: not to be weird but this kids is literally going to have the hottest parents of all time

user36: no cause if i'm a teacher and all of them walk in for parent's evening i'm passing out

jensonbutton: oh wow what a lovely crib i wonder who put that together

fernandoalo_oficial: don't you dare take all the credit

sebastianvettel: as if anyone other than the WOOD WORK KING put that together

yourusername: guys they are lying the delivery guy put it together and they all stood around watching like dads at the airport

jensonbutton: "like dads" so still getting the experience in

danielricciardo: so who is responsible for this grandpa ass nursery aesthetic?

yourusername: well this is awkward i thought it was cute

fernandoalo_oficial: it is don't worry honey, it matches seb's overall grandpa aesthetic

sebastianvettel: you guys agreed to move to mine don't switch up on my aesthetic now

jensonbutton: oh seb we all love your certain affinity for tartan and plaid

sebastianvettel: i'm not feeling this love right now :(

yourusername: cuddle pile incoming

note: ahhh okay this was very highly requested so i hope it met expectations. i'm thinking this could defo be a longer series (i am also working on into the arms of another dw) following the whole family if yall would like that? i'm gonna try and tag everyone who requested that, i am sorry if i missed anyone x

taglist: @boiohboii @vellicora @faithm120601 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @luv4kani @minkyungseokie @eugene-emt-roe @magical-spit @ironmaiden1313 @jaydaaasworld @whoreks @rainerax @nonsensical-nonsence @laneyspaulding19 @chelseyyouraverageluigi @lxclerc @gemofthenight @woweewoowa

[slutforwholesomeness]

Mindless Pleasure

CW: CNC, edging, hypnosis, TFxM

Laying on her bed, Erin eagerly waits for her boyfriend to pick up the phone. They've been in a long-distance relationship for a year, but she still gets butterflies at the thought of hearing his voice. The ping of him joining the call makes her smile, as his voice comes through her headphones.

"Well hello, is this the pretty girl hotline?"

She can't help but giggle. It's a line she's already heard a dozen times, but he delivers it so sincerely it almost makes her blush.

"Yeah it is sir, how may I help you today?" she replies, trying to hide the smile in her voice.

"Well, I was hoping to speak to the prettiest girl of them all? I think her name was Erin? She's got a super pretty voice, and she's so cute, and she's got such a hot body..."

Erin squeals a little at the praise, trying to ignore the neediness building between her legs with each compliment. "Tobyyyyyyy, stoppppppp!"

He chuckles on the other end of the phone, his voice a husky purr in her ears

"So adorable... I love you so much, sweetheart~"

Erin bites her lip. Gosh, even his pet names make her heart flutter...

"Yeah well, I love you too!" she declares back, the stress of work today sliding off her shoulders a little. She feels so safe with him, and so beautiful... Something must have changed in her voice, because his next question is dripping with lewd intent.

"Baby, you sound a little stressed... would you like me to hypnotize you?"

She shivers. Hypnosis had always been a more niche kink of hers, but Toby absolutely loved it. He'd sent her a file that helped her sleep, but she suspected that it was also planting triggers deep inside her head. God, she hoped he was planting triggers deep inside her head...

"Yes..." she whispers, rubbing her thighs together.

"Good..." His voice is hushed, whispering seductively. This is the voice he used to hypnotize her, and her body knows it. Her clit twitches and she obeys his commands as he gives them "... now get comfortable for me, and close your eyes... let your breathing slip into a deep, even pattern, whatever is most comfortable..." It's almost instinct at this point. Her head feels light and fuzzy, and he begins to relax her body. "Focus on my voice... just like that..."

It feels so good to obey his commands. It makes her feel owned, in the best way. And he begins to drop her into trance.

"My voice is like a warm, weighted blanket... it wraps around your body, holding you down, so heavy, but comfortable... and while it pins you down, it squeezes alllll the tension out of your muscles... no more tension, no more stress, no more worries... and despite this heavy, warm weighted blanket, letting go of that stress makes your body feel so light and floaty..."

Her head is fuzzy. That means it's working for sure. She listens to his words, drifting away as the warm, comfortable sensation glides up her body, from her toes to her heels, heels to knees, knees to thighs, thighs to... waist... to chest... to shoulders... to... neck... to...

"Drop Deep"

...

Erin shakes her head sleepily. A glance at her phone tells her it's been twenty minutes. She lets out a soft moan.

"Darling? Are you there?" Toby asks.

Erin nods groggily "Mhm..."

"And how do you feel?"

Erin blinks, waking up more with each passing second. She feels sleepy, but also...

"H-horny" she gasps "horny and n-needy..."

Toby giggles. "Yeah? Needy? Does my needy puppy want her vibe?"

Moaning, Erin almost falls off her bed, scrambling to reach her hush. She grabs it, then slides the vibrator into her panties, positioning it against her clit just right...

"Please, please, I'm ready..." she begs, and he answers her pleas with a steady, pulsing pattern that makes her squirm and pant. For a minute, they both just bask in it, their dominance and submission perfectly intertwined as Erin's gasps get increasingly heated. "M-more, please turn it uppppp Master..." She whines. Toby obliges with a small giggle.

"So desperate... you're a needy slut, aren't you?" Her moan is the only reply he needs, sliding the pattern up from low to medium, the Lovense buzzing louder. Erin has to cover her mouth to stop her loud moans from leaking past her fingers, but GODS why did this feel so good today?

"Now darling, I'm going to say something very important, so it's means a lot if you'd listen to me, okay?"

Erin nods, then moans, then lets out a quiet noise of affirmation. Toby's voice cuts through the pleasure, through the noise in her mind, reaching something deep inside.

"Good Bimbo~"

With those two words, her brain goes blank. Her hips buck into the endless buzzing pleasure, trapped between her panties and her drooling clit, and it's all she knows. Everything is bliss. Everything is pleasure. Her mind is totally empty. She giggles between moans, but it's still not enough. "M-m-moreeeeee~" the Good Bimbo groans. And Master gives her more, forcing her to the brink of orgasm is seconds as the vibrator ramps up.

All she does for a moment is gasp and squirm, before words blurt from her lips. "Close, close, I'm close, Master I'm closeeeeeeee~"

And the vibe shuts off, leaving the pretty bimbo edged and dumb and drooling. Master whispers to her, telling her what a Good Bimbo she is, and how happy she makes him. He asks if she wants to be edged again and she giggles.

"Lyke, yeah! But uhm, only lyke, one more time? Uhm, yes please master!" The uncontrollable bout of giggles that leaves her lips feels so right, as does Master responding in her ear, reminding her what a Good Bimbo she is, before the vibe turns back on, nice and high. She reaches edge in no time, begging and panting for him to turn it down, she's so close, so so close Masterrrrr, and he does as she asks. And he explains something for her.

"Now, you said just one more edge? Are you ready for one more edge?"

Something inside her silly brain didn't think that was right, so she told him, but Master just laughed it off. "You're just a Good Bimbo, remember? Let me be the smart one, you're too pretty to be smart~" He was right, of course, she was sooooo pretty, and that makes her sooooo dumb. She giggles, so glad that Master can tell her what to do, as the vibe starts up again.

...

Just... just one more time... the bimbo reminds herself, as another edge buries her mind in pleasure. Just... one more edge... Master's voice interrupts all her dumb, bimbo thoughts, and her clit twitches in response.

"You've been such a Good Bimbo for me... I think you deserve your reward... my Good Girl~'

Oh gods, those words... It felt like an electric current of pure pleasure just surged through her body. Her dumb clit spurts out another few drops of pre, expanding the damp spot on her panties. She gasps in mindless bliss. And the vibe starts up again, barely. The speed is slow, weak teasing pulses to really melt her into a messy little pet for Master... All the while, he whispers delicate triggers in her ears, "Good Bimbo, what a Good Girl, you're such a Good Bimbo, my Good Girl~"

The praise and triggers and vibe slowly get louder, and her minds gets messier, one thought slipping into her empty head. Good Girls don't cum... without permission. So as the edge approaches again, she begs and babbles and whimpers, oh PLEASE Master, please let me cum I've been so good, such a Good Bimbo and such a Good Girl and I need to cum I'm so needy I know I'm a slut so just let me cum, let me cum, LET ME CUMMMM, and Master's voice purrs back, that she's right, she's been a VERY Good Girl and so she should cum, cum for me, cum right now, that's it, Good Girl, cum for me, cum for Master, and now the vibe is on full intensity, her legs are shaking and her clit is aching from so much edging but she cums, her dumb clit drooling all over itself as the sensation of finally cumming blanks her mind entirely and...

...

She comes back to her senses begging him to turn the vibe off, her overstimulated clitty can't take any more, and her sweet, kind, wonderful Master turns it down, then off completely, and the compliments start flooding in, of how well she did, how proud he is. Despite the distance, she can feel his arms around her, snuggling her until her mind is less fuzzy, and she can think for herself again. Master becomes Toby in her thoughts again, as they exchange "I love you"s and kisses in her blissful afterglow. Everything is okay. Everything is alright. Go grab a drink of water sweetheart, we can keep talking when you get back. As she leaves the call to get a drink and clear her fuzzy head, she smiles, and giggles, and knows that she's truly found her soulmate ❤️

[the-one-that-weeps]

The day people realise that Niigo symbolises life and rebirth and Wxs symbolises death and farewells is the day I can die in peace. No I will not elaborate further.

...

Actually yes, I will elaborate further. Much further.

If you take a closer look, all of the units represent rebirth, even if their portrait of it varies: Leoneed broke apart but came back together because whatever sets them apart isn't as crucial as what brings the together, More more jump almost gave up on their dreams but came back and came back stronger with newfound passion and Vivid Bad Squad are literally the ashes left behind by the dying phoenix that was Rad Weekend. They're bringing new fire to good old Vivid Street. If that's not life and rebirth I don't know what is.

And Niigo... Gosh. Niigo is about love. Niigo is about care, about healing, about despair and rage and joy but most of all it's all about love. Mizuki and their journey towards self-love and trust, Ena's fight and frustration to recover her love for art, Mafuyu's path through self-discovery, freedom and the cage of conditional love that keeps her locked away from it, and it all spins around a lone composer who carries around the rags of past love and comfort just as closely as her neverending guilt.

Just... Look at what they were during the main story and look at them now. They've grown so much stronger and so much healthier and it's all thanks to love.

It's also important to point out that none of these alliances have a reason to end. Niigo will keep composing for a brighter future even after 25:00 disappears from the clock, Vivid Bad Squad are on their way to not only surpass the ultimate legend but also expand outside of that (and potentially take over the world), More More Jump are doing better than ever even after they switched to the credit based course and Leoneed has a whole promise about never disbanding again!

It's devastating to know that Wonderlands X Showtime... Don't have that.

The disbandment arc has been teased for years and it will continue to be part of their story whether we like it or not. They have different objectives and different paths to cross. In other units characters fight to hold onto one another time and time again because of their love, but wxs love each other enough as to let each other go in order to secure a better end for everyone.

Wxs' themes and happiness and dreams, and obviously neither of those can last forever, but you can hold them close and relish in them while they're here. Isn't that what life is all about?

The thing is, feelings and people are ever changing, perhaps that’s what makes them so beautiful. And never and forever are a long time. But they don't exist. Not for you, not for me, not even for the sun and the stars. One day the music will stop and we'll know it's time for the curtain call to fall one last time. And then we'll begin again

[jtl07]

There's a story behind each trinket, each wrapper, each pebble and Beatrice learns to always turn out Ava's pockets before putting her clothes in the wash. While the machine rumbles, she'll have Ava explain each one, allow herself to lean into Ava's side as she plucks each item from Beatrice's palm. (When they get to the end, Beatrice leaves her palm open and sometimes, Ava will take her hand. And Beatrice will want - Ava; will want to ask what kind of story Ava thinks they'll have, how many chapters, how many novels will it span. It's the same part of her that wants desperately to hear forever from Ava's lips.)

Art for pocketful commissioned from the ever incredible, the incomparable @princington

(More thoughts - about Prince, about their art - below the cut)

Prince has done so many wonderful works of art for the Warrior Nun fandom, especially their fanart for fanfics - there have been countless times I've discovered a new beloved fic through their art. It's even more special when it's your own fic - it's like looking through someone else's eyes, and when it's an artist like Prince, it's nothing short of awe-inspiring. So when I was thinking of getting art commissioned for pocketful, I knew it had to be Prince.

They were very kind and easy to work with, and they took one of my favorite moments I've written and made me fall in love with it all over again. I mean, look at their expressions! If you've seen Prince's work, you know that they have an extraordinary ability in drawing emotion in such a heartfelt way. I love the fondness, the intimacy, the devotion. I just - [goes off to flail and squee for 10 minutes]

And then there's the physical closeness, how Ava's almost in Bea's lap, how indulgent Bea is as Ava is pointing out the different items in her palm (I love that there's a leaf!). There's so much to love in this - the contrasts and "them"ness in their posture, in their clothes. Also the way Bea has her hand tucked between her thighs makes me think about how she tries so hard to keep her hands to herself, yknow? (That theme was one of the things that made me want to write this particular fic to begin with.) And gosh, how comfortable they both are here, in this humble, gentle space they've carved for themselves. It's incredible, seeing this scene like this.

Prince, we're so lucky to have you - thanks for all you do and for sharing your amazing work with us. I'm going to treasure this for a very long time <3

[thoughtsonkm]

Goodbye, for now

BABY? HONEY? BOYFRIEND SHOT? Jikook you're too much!

This episode was truly the best way to end the show, maybe even the best episode of the series. (Neck in neck with episode 2 of course) The way they enjoyed it so much but were also so sad it was over. The hot tension all around, the soft boyfriends mood who can't stop flirting and name calling each other with the most low-key couple-like sweet names. They could not stop laughing, they could not stop touching and they couldn't stop being hilarious without even trying.

~

SK Spotify daily chart end of November 2023 :

Jimin Jungkook Jimin Jungkook Jimin Jimin

~

It would be such a full circle moment if Jimin posted the boyfriend photo (which won't happen). Would almost be like a soft launch of some sort.

Not the underwear too?? Gosh I love my little gay freaks!! (didn't understand why Jimin would quote their 'yet another inner joke meme' right at that moment but I've learned to not question their inner workings)

~

Sorry but i have to be pretty one last time and say that I kinda had enough of seeing so much from the crew around or even in Jikook's shots and angles. It breaks the fourth wall a little too much and ruins the whole bubble idea. Ok I'm done lol

~

Returning to the issue at hand, the "seeing the beds for the first time" scene keeps getting funnier and funnier. As if they don't already have designated sides of the bed 😏

~

Ah the never ending bickering gives me life. Peep the half korean half english talk when they playfully get on each others nerves 👀😂

I better not speak on the scuzzi jacuzzi shenanigans cause otherwise.. Let's just say the photo speaks for itself..

NO YOU KNOW WHAT IMMA SPEAK. We all know that jacuzzi time is always intimate, relaxing and personal for people that's why I wish Jikook had enjoyed it fully without cameras. Yes I'm pissed on their behalf, that they had to film the whole thing with 382929 different angles. lol

His face is literally saying "oh so you're really gonna make me do it huh? if I was in your place I would've folded immediately and would've never let you go through with it!!" 😂

~

No one ever:

Jikook every 2sec : HONEY OH HONEY

(I was actually listening to the song while writing this and idk why it's so funny to me even tho it's a sad love ballad)

~

They must've loved getting the chance to at least see one episode of the show, plus the idea of watching it together..

Jungkook being so entertained by it meanwhile Jimin being mortified about half of the things that happened. HILARIOUS

HAHAHHAHAHA all parties were concerned if they'd be able to pull it off, I can't

BEST BELIEVE they're always gonna find a way to touch. Consciously or unconsciously.

~

This show made me realize that my favourite thing ever is Jk making food for Jimin, then making him hysterically laugh and therefore getting to hear Jimin's adorable giggles.

~

"Hello it is I the one and only, the only one who can touch Jimin's head ble ble ble ble" - JK

Jk was like: How can you imagine Jimin without me in your dream? Are you crazy? What is this delusional dream world you live in Jin hyung??

~

Tbh it's so meaningful and a huge thing saying that these trips were literally the best trips of your life. I think the statement almost went over people's heads.

I can't get enough of Jimin looking pretty and cuddly and Jungkook's immediate thought being: I HAVE TO FILM YOU

Them saying they can do a reboot when they come back gave me some hope that maybe just maybe this is not the end of AYS 😭

The ending bonus clip left me fulfilled but also sad and with goosebumps all over.

Thank you Jimin & Jungkook for letting us peek into this trip and getting to witness some of your precious moments.

Signing off, J&J 🥹

Ps. So I'm guessing the 52 minute video that comes with the photobook is probably the 3 bts videos combined that they've been reviewing for 48392 months right?

[goodoldfashionedengineer]

TUA Tumblr Simulator pt. 1

Find more here: pt. 2

—

🪩traumallama Follow

The Umbrella Academy never should have existed. Those were CHILDREN!! They were THIRTEEN when they first appeared! They KILLED people! Two of them DIED! It really goes to show how much you can do if you have money

FUCK Reginald Hargreeves

🌺thinkingthings Follow

Wait 5 DIED?!

🪩 traumallama Follow

It was never confirmed, but honestly, seems the most likely that they would have just covered it up. If he's still alive, I hope he got to live a nice life without that cult

10,846 notes

💗L0veOnLo4n Follow

Every journalist, interviewer, fan, whatever, who is asking Allison Hargreeves about her brothers or her father should just be sent to space. How would you like it if I bring up your childhood trauma constantly?

🌫️love-h4te-whatevs Follow

Didn't she like kill people?

💗L0veOnLo4n Follow

She was a CHILD! It was all planned by their father, he was the one who "trained" them. He should go to prison but that won't ever happen. Not to mention he didn't just adopt those children, he bought them

3,245 notes

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

WE GOT A BEHIND THE SCENES UMBRELLA ACADEMY BOOK OWNDNAOWOE

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

I am so excited to go read this

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Starting off: WOW Reginald Hargreeves was an even bigger asshole behind closed doors. Who would have thought?

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Okay, okay okay WHAT WHAT WHAT THE ABSOLUTE FUCK?!!

ALLISON Hargreeves and Spaceboy were IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER?!

WEREN'T THEY LIKE SIBLINGS?!

I know the book says that they weren't really a family... But they were?? They are clearly described as brothers and sisters?

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Had to put the book down for a while

Gosh, that so surprised me

I used to have the BIGGEST crush on Spaceboy but now I doubt I can think of them the same way ever again

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Calmed down, I'll continue now

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

BIG MISTAKE, BIG MISTAKE

WHY ARE YOU TELLING US ABOUT THE TIME YOUR MOTHER TOLD YOU AT DINNER THAT YOUR BROTHER HAD HIS FIRST WET DREAM!

That does NOT belong in a book!

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Drug addiction by age 13, damn

🌕eyestothesun Follow

Wait who was addicted to drugs

🌨️twirlingandwhirling Follow

The Séance. Kinda surprised so many people are shocked about this. There are quite a few interviews with them in which it is just blatantly obvious. Look at his eyes in this one for example. Or in this one he is so chill, not really there, but his siblings do all the talking

🌳drrrrreams Follow

Wow first time I've heard about this but this is so... Incredibly sad.

👥lurkeringlurrlurr Follow

Honestly? I'm more surprised that not more of them are addicts after all they've been through

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Thanks for the additions!

Five's tragical disappearance. This is the worst part of it by far. They were so close and you can just feel the grief. And to never know what happened, damn

And one of their brothers can see dead people...

I don't know if I'd want to ask him or not. Asking for closure's sake, but if you don't, there is still hope that he'll come back some day.

This is just so sad

🌌jupiters-moons Follow

Spoke too soon, it can get sadder

Ben was their glue, his death was so brutal. He died so young and so painful, I can't imagine what that must be like. For him or for the siblings.

No wonder they disbanded after that. It makes you question your own mortality

8,799 notes

🚵rolly-molly Follow

Wait what happened to Spaceboy? Did he give up on missions and move out?

🤺theyseemen0t Follow

He died

🚵rolly-molly Follow

WHAT

🤺theyseemen0t Follow

I mean, it was never confirmed, but he got really badly injured on his last mission, lethally, and hasn't been seen since

🚵rolly-molly Follow

I had no idea. Rest in Peace

🍇thelandbeforewine Follow

False news, he got injured, but he survived. Otherwise we would have known about it from "Extra Ordinary" which came out last week, given that all the other family secrets were shared in it.

🚵rolly-molly Follow

Ohh, thank you so much! That makes me really happy, I was really worried

2,840 notes

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

Sister, Sister: After the End

When Eliza invites the entire family to Midvale over Easter weekend, none of them offer a single squeak of protest. It's been a long few weeks of working on their own endeavors, with only infrequent, hectic teamups between them.

It's nice, Lena decides after dinner the first night. The warmth, the easy familiarity that sinks in as though it never left. But even so, she's grateful for a spare moment to snag a blanket and go out to the dunes, where waves crash steadily against the quiet of darkness.

She spreads the blanket out and lays back, folding her hands over her ribcage. Her magic fills her these days, and she can feel the power of the ocean tugging at her, as though inviting her to join its current. She can also feel the shifting energy of the sand beneath the blanket, and the sway of the reeds that obscure her from the view of the house.

She's not too difficult to find though, as footsteps whisper through the sand towards her. Lena closes her eyes, biting the smidge of irritation that creeps up on her unexpectedly.

"I'm fine," she issues pre-emptively. Kara settles down on the blanket next to her.

"Didn't think you weren't."

Lena's eyes snap open as her head whips towards Nia's voice. Not Kara.

She huffs a laugh. "Sorry," she offers readily. "Thought you were someone else."

"Mhmm," Nia returns. "Considering she's the only one able to get hold of you these days."

Lena grimaces. "I know, I'm sorry--"

"Me too," Nia assures her of no hard feelings. "I could have done more to make it happen. It's just been..."

"Busy."

"Yeah. It's a little crazy to think about, you know? I'm doing more as Dreamer for the foundation than I am as a crime fighter or whatever. And you're back to being on top--"

Lena scoffs a laugh that turns into a giggle as she turns her head to look at Nia. It takes a moment to click.

"Oh--! Lena! You know that's not what I meant!"

The light smack to Lena's ribcage only earns a throatier laugh. Nia joins in with a giggle of her own, and they laugh for a long moment before calming.

"I know what you mean," Lena concedes after a heavy sigh, returning to the moment. "The foundation is everything I hoped it would be, but--"

"It's different." Nia turns her head, and Lena echoes the movement to meet her gaze.

She nods. "Yeah. As much as I don't miss the entire world being in peril..."

"You miss how it was." Nia's voice is quiet. "Even if it's better now."

"Yeah."

They stare up at the stars for a long quiet moment. The sky is clear tonight, and the Milky Way spreads out before them in a wide, untouchable ribbon. A wave of nostalgia overwhelms Lena, and not just for the good old days. Sudden tears burn at her eyes.

"I miss my mom," she whispers.

Nia doesn't turn, but pats across Lena's hip until Lena reaches down to clasp the questing hand.

"Me too," Nia returns softly. Her next words curl with a gentle smile. "They'd be so proud of us though."

Lena chokes out a bit of a chuckle, which mostly sounds like she's being strangled. "Yeah." She squeezes Nia's hand. "She would have really liked you."

"Oh my gosh, are you kidding?!" Nia's voice lifts. "My mom would have gushed over you! Especially now with the whole earthy, witchy vibe you have going on these days. She'd love that."

Lena grins. "Could you imagine if they'd had the chance to meet?"

"Oh god." Nia covers her eyes with her free hand. "Inseparable. No embarassing childhood memory would be safe..."

Lena laughs, truly, as though she actually had memories with her mother to be embarassed by. In this fictional world they've created, she would.

"Hey." Lena catches Nia's gaze, and offers a wide smile. "I'm proud of you too."

Nia's lips pinch tight, her eyes sparkling in the moonlight. All she can manage is a trembling nod, and a firm squeeze on Lena's fingers to reciprocate the sentiment.

Neither of them keeps track of how long they stay out there on the shallow dunes. They simply lay there, hands clasped, as the galaxy slowly swirls above them.

[gotham-daydreams]

I absolutely LOVE the ‘Not’ series!

I’ve read a handful of the neglected reader trope (i.e. three) and so far, yours is the most detailed one in terms of how the batfam became yandere. Not to say that the others aren’t good– they’re great! They just don’t really show how and why.

Mostly they just show that the reason for their behavior is because of their guilt for neglecting the reader and their paranoia in finding the reader either dead or tortured (which is a valid reason), it just never convinced me(?) I mean, as far as I know, it’s normal to feel that way when a member of your family just vanishes without so much as a trace.

Which probably explains why I like part 2 so much, because not only did it showcase their own personal reasons as to why they turned out they way they are (borderline obsessive), but it showcased how badly the reader was neglected. I mean– you should’ve seen my face during the tapes part.

I guess I completely underestimated the neglect when I was reading part 1. And although, yes, I am aware of the fact that neglect is neglect, and there shouldn’t be a rate to determine when the neglect is bad enough because it already is bad–no matter how big or small the situation–I didn’t really feel (?? meaning, it didn’t touch me at first) it until reading part 2, where I saw the extent to the emotional abuse they put the reader through. At such a young age too? Jesus.

During the first part, I kept telling myself that this was fine and I’d probably be able to survive this and just be petty to my family if it were to happen, until I continued reading up to part 2. Only then did I realize how much I actually relate to the reader.

I’ve learned how to play the violin, done taekwondo, participated in school sports/events, and studied till my nose bled and I passed out (literally based on true events, was admitted to the hospital and was generally not a good time).

And you know what made all of that suck? I didn’t do it for myself, but for the validation of family (I’m from your stereotypical asian family who’s expectations are high and long enough to reach the moon and back).

And what made all of that even suckier was that there were times where my parents couldn’t even make it to the events, in which made me connect to the reader even more.

I know the feeling of standing up on a stage, desperately looking around the crowd for the two familiar dots which are your parents’ faces, only to be met with stacks of unfamiliar ones. Gosh, especially that heart crushing feeling where you just feel your heart drop to the pit of your stomach when you realize they aren’t there to see the work you’ve practiced so hard on, especially when you did it for them.

I felt that exact same feeling for the reader during the part where Bruce saw all the fliers for the performances he failed to attend, and that was the exact moment when you could hear my heart begin to crack. And you can just guess that the rest is just my heart beginning to crack even more.

But anyway, I absolutely love how you wrote everyone’s individual personalities and their personal relations to the reader. I can really tell that it’s well thought out! Looking forward to the confrontation in part 3!!

Thank you so much!!! I'm glad you enjoyed the second part, and were able to connect with the reader! :]

That was also generally the main focus of Part 2, as I did really want to delve into the nitty-gritty of what got the Batfam started on this hell train to yandere land. Though I wasn't able to see that idea out completely as, y'know, I don't really describe how Tim, Damian, Steph, and Babs ended up hopping onto that train.

The portion of the Batfam in the Manor, and coming to terms with how they've collectively neglected the reader in these little, individual parts, is rushed and does kind of just hop to the city and how the reader is currently doing - along with establishing a time period for how long they've been gone. Which that is mostly because the more I wrote - the more laggy tumblr would get, so I made a last minute decision to speed things along (and I also wanted to get Part 2 out as soon as possible).

Regardless, as you've said there are other neglected!reader posts that do at least mention how the Batfam turns yandere, but they don't really go into detail, or mention a 'how', and just mention the 'why'. (Which is okay! They're amazing, and enjoyable reads anyway :]!) So for Part 2, I really wanted to emphasize on those details, and at least show how the seeds of obsession have been planeted.

Again, as you said! Worrying over the reader's well being, and coming to terms with the crushing reality of what you did to someone — albeit mostly unintentionally in most cases — and what that could potentially lead them to do, and what it's already caused them to do- is a valid and understandable reason! I just wanted to show more than that, and almost make it more... personal?

I wanted to show how it wasn't just pure worry and guilt that started them on this path. I wanted to show the planting of the seeds, and later, how these little things will make the Batfam commit to treading down said path.

Like how Bruce starts off as worried and guilt-ridden, only to end up in love with all these small details and character traits he notices from the reader in their notebook — which turns him serious and cements his will and need to find the reader. Or how Dick starts off similarly, but with a bit more panic and disbelief, only to discover just how much personality the reader had, and how lovely of a person they could be through their voice messages to him, which does fuel his guilt - yes, but I think it adds just that little bit more to everything. Or Cass and Jason watching those birthday tapes, and even Tim falling in love with the reader's music (which isn't gone into much detail within Part 2 itself, but is implied a little, I believe).

I feel like their fall feels more personal to the reader in that way. Rather than just have them be worried about the reader's health in some way (physical or mental (which is still a valid concern, of course!!)), they fall in love with pieces of the reader, and notice small details within them that draw the family in. Furthering their need to find the reader.

And I'm glad you enjoyed the characters as well! Even if I am still a little worried that they may be a bit ooc, I did want these small, but personal discoveries, or small glimpses the family had into the reader's life, to be unique in some way. With their interpretations differing, and while their general reaction was the same, their 'drive' is a little different. If not, then a little similar to one another with odd, small parts not quite matching up inbetween. Not to mention that with a whole family that is so similar, and yet so different- it felt fitting to try and aim for that. Though I can't say much about how well that exactly got across, haha!

Besides, again, with their different personalities and everything, it makes sense that their connection or relationship — or lack thereof — to the reader is a bit different for each of them. Which is kind of implied, I suppose, as some did catch a few small things about the reader, while others didn't notice much at all and such, but I'd like to think that it was a nice touch.

Putting further emphasis on the extent of the neglect and such was also intended, of course, and I also think you and other folks finding out such things from the eyes of the Batfam, was a fun way to go about it as well. Since you not only learn more about events that have happened before the series, but also get the Batfam's thoughts on it and how said information impacts them as well. Though who knows, maybe I'm looking too deep into my own writing- but it was fun, I will say that!

Compared to the development of the Batfam as yanderes, I do consider the information about the reader's life both in and outside of the Manor, as icing on the cake, in a way. Since it gives you more of that flavor along side the cake it self, but that probably doesn't make sense. Lol!

Anyway, I really liked this ask, and thanks so much for sharing your feelings, anon! And once again, I'm very glad that you're enjoying the series so far :]

[compressedrage]

Okay so im going slightly feral at the moment and have nowhere to direct it so y'all get to hear my disconnected ramblings about Chosen and Orange

(put it under a cut because gosh im autistic)

YALL I LOVE THEM SO MUCH YOU DONT EVEN KNOW

I NEED THEM TO CARE ABOUT EACH OTHER OR I WILL BE ILL

*ahem*

(for real guys I feel like im wrestling my brain into submission)

(this autism got hands)

Guys they're brothers

They're reflections of one another, parallels and foils at the same time

they are connected– one a rebellious demigod and the other a copy that the universe created to fill his place

They've been connected this entire time and they didn't even know!!

While Orange was fighting spiders and protecting his friends, his predecessor was burning websites to the ground

While Chosen was learning how to live a normal life with someone create to kill him, Orange was giving someone who betrayed them a second chance

I need Chosen to take Orange under his wing, I need him to show Orange how his powers work.

Orange is gonna have an existential crisis but it's okay because he has a big brother who's been through a lot and can at least be there for him (because we know how awkward Chosen would be about that, he's fine don't worry) (he's trying his best)

And in the same way I need Orange to introduce Chosen to a life worth living. If Dark truly is dead (Alan forbid) than Chosen has lost the one person he ever cared about. He's going to need people to help him heal.

GOOD THING ORANGE IS GOOD AT THAT

DO I HEAR RECONCILIATION

I need Chosen to meet the RYGB and realize he cares about them just as much as he does Orange

(I need Orange to talk to Chosen about Dark– you blacked out with powers you never knew you had and killed the terrorist who killed your friends and later realize that the terrorist was your brother and now have your older brother around who knew your other brother before he tried to conquer the world and he sounds so nice what happened why what why what did you do– can anyone hear me)

[bedoballoons]

Genshin Men react to Their Thirsty fanart?😊

Ooooooo oh my gosh I love this!!! I hope you liked the characters I picked! If you'd like to see others just let me know! <3

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Reacting to their thirsty fanarts~༺}

A/n: Slightly suggestive! A lot of characters this time because I went alittle crazy! (None of the artwork in this is mine! If you look in the reblogs the artists names are there! All credit goes to them and thank you again to that person who sourced them for me!)

(Includes: Diluc, Lyney, Albedo, Wanderer, Kazuha, Childe and Neuvillette!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Diluc:

Diluc would clear his throat, inspecting the picture while his cheeks became tinted with a light pink colour, his hand running through his firey red hair as he tried to think of what to say, settling with a safer answer. "Well...this is certainly a very amazing piece of artwork. It does however seem a bit...suggestive...flattering yes, but not very true to life. I've personally never held my claymore in that way or sat in that particular.. position. Still, I thank you respectfully for taking your time to draw me...even if it might have given others a bit to much...inspiration."

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney would take one look at the picture, a smirk playing on his lips as his violet eyes clouded over with mischief and flattery, possibly even a tad bit of lust, "Seems I've caught the attention of some incredible artists, their work is truly magnifique! Hmm..., because they've drawn me so beautifully and one of the main things a magician is supposed to do is please his watchers, I'll do a little comparison between the art and myself...so you can all see it for real~" He'd tip his hat before starting to recreate the pose, arching his back slightly and winking in your direction, his finger up against his mouth as he shushed you, his other hand holding the ace of hearts just right so you could see it. Seems he enjoys the attention the fanarts give him, even to the point of hoping everyone will creat more~

𑁍༄Albedo:

(...is he wearing bottoms in this picture? Cause like I'm not gonna lie...I'm not really sure...)

"Goodness..." Albedo would stare at the artwork of himself for a moment, trying to collect his words as even his pale skin turned cherry red. His voice would be shaky because of his flustered state and he'd mess up words whenever he glanced at the picture, but eventually he'd manage to say this,"I don't really know where t-to begin, I mean the art itself is impeccable, v-very stylised...and ehem...the artist clearly...k-knows their anatomy. I-...thank you for drawing me." He'd look away, his heart racing in his chest and his mind plagued with new thoughts like...would he actually look good in that situation...would people want to see it...should he...try it?

𑁍༄Wanderer:

Wanderer would look at the picture, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth hanging open for a second, "W-what the hell is this?!? Why am I w-wet in it??? Perverts!" He'd clench his hands into fists, putting on quite the show as he tossed the drawing behind him and stomped away like he's just been highly offended...even though deep down, he found it slightly...appealing. To think someone actually had the nerve to draw him so scandalously...perhaps he'd have to find the artists who had done so, just to show them how wrong of a choice they'd made~

𑁍༄Kazuha:

"Oh my..." Kazuha would say, a blush spreading across his face and his calm personality faltering for just a second, before he quickly recomposed himself, scratching the back of his neck nervously as he chose the best words to say, "The art is very beautiful, I must say they've flattered me alot though...I don't truthfully look like that...not nearly as handsome. As for the marks...on the n-neck, I don't currently have any..." He'd probably mean that last sentence as a means to say he wasn't currently in a relationship, but to anyone who had heard it...they took it as a invitation to give him some~

𑁍༄Childe:

Childe would smile happily, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed and his chest slightly puffed up with pride, "Comrades please, you all make me blush, the art is wonderful and in no small part because I'm in it...,but I assure you the real thing is better. I win, even in regards to myself.." He'd wink at you, leaving you captivated by his charm even though what he had said sounded silly.

𑁍༄Neuvillette:

Neuvillette would look at the art for awhile, his purple hued eyes widening as he scanned it into his memory and rested his chin in his hand, his long white hair drapping over his shoulders as he wondered if someone had caught him changing, since how could they make something so accurate otherwise... "Apologies, but where did you get this again? The drawing itself is indeed very beautiful and well crafted, I believe the artist who made this should be very proud...I'm just curious how they know what I look like shirtless...and who else might know as well."

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚I hope you enjoyed*⁠.⁠✧

(Open!) Taglist: @kiokiee

[misstycloud]

Omg plz more Yandere Slasher

Slasher yandere

The static noise of a television travelled through the large room, on the couch placed in front of a TV sat you and watched the news.

Concerning incidents had begun taking place and you were worried. Much more worried than your housemates or anyone else on campus seemed to be. It was weird, it was like they didn't care at all or as if they believed it was some sort of joke.

The woman in a green blazer was interviewing the parents of the recent victim. She held the microphone to the somber pair and let them speak to the camera.

"W-we just can't believe our little g-girl is really. the Mrs cried and clutched her husbands arm.

"It's so hard to think that anyone would do such a thing."

They were obviously devastated at their daughter's murder and you felt so bad for them.

It's awful how this happens and you couldn't imagine how the victims loved ones must handle it. Their children, sibling or friend has been brutally murdered by an unknown killer.

Thinking about the gruesome details of the murder you just heard minutes earlier by the reporters, you shuddered. You couldn't envision being stabbed more than ten times and then tied up in the living room.

These crimes took place around town, always young people; exactly like you. But lately they've come closer to your collage and you've began getting worried about it. What if something happens to your friend or if you're next in line to be slashed? While you thought about these things a lot recently your loved ones hasn't appeared to share your thoughts.

Mia and Sole had laughed when you expressed your concerns regarding them continuing attending parties and getting black-out drunk, there was just no convincing them to stop. Your sweet boyfriend of five years didn't directly laugh at you but he didn't support you either, he simply told you to stop watching the news if they scared you. Also that you needed to put down the horror movies too.

Pulling the blanket over you, you rubbed your arms to rid yourself of the cold. It didn't work very well. Sitting all alone in your dorm house when all the others are out partying at someone else's house, you were feeling a bit queasy.

Now well aware of the stiffening silence save the television that had actually had its volume turned down, maybe you should have gone to the party as well. At least you wouldn't be alone. This was one of those moments were the more you thought, the more you'd scare yourself. It was stupid but that's how it was. A sudden slam of the door made you shriek in alarm.

"Woah!" a familiar voice sounded behind you.

"What is it? Did something happen?"

You sighed out in relief, "Gosh, Matthew! You scared the shit out of me!" you scolded your boyfriend who rushed inside as soon as he heard your scream, thinking something might've gone wrong.

"Sorry, love." he said and approached where you were laying on the sofa and plopped down beside you. Grabbing you by the jaw he leaned in to give you a passionate kiss, which you reciprocated with heat of your own.

"Why hello there, handsome." you teased him as you two separated and he smiled before one last kiss on your forehead.

"Hey.

Matthew and you had talked earlier that day and agreed that he would show up later that evening when everyone else was away, you hadn't wanted to be alone and it was the perfect opportunity for you two to get some alone time together. Though being immersed in your own world you forgot about your plans and got scared when he arrived. Silly you, you thought.

Although when you glanced at the clock, you realised he was somewhat late compared to the time you two had settled on.

"You're late you know."

"What, really?" Matthew looked at the clock on the wall above the TV. "Sorry, I didn't notice." He sheepishly scratched his head apologetically.

You pretended to think for a moment, crossing your arms in thoughtfulness. Then a smile sparked up and you said, "I forgive you.”

"You goddamn-"

You shrieked as Matthew slapped you with a pillow he grabbed to 'brutally' beat you with it.

Laughter travelled through the large room and didn't stop anytime soon. His playful nature was one of the things you really loved about him, he always made you laugh no matter what mood you were in before. You wrestled him and wanted to pin him down in a winning manner but he won quickly over you.

Of course he came out victorious, your boyfriend was a bigger guy after all; towering over the other students and having it easy with physical activity. A couple years ago you had asked why he didn't join any sports team when he could clearly bring accomplishments to the group. Matthew had snorted and chuckled at your suggestion.

"What, you wanna date a jock?" He teasingly asked.

You slapped his arm and flushed. “No, I’m just saying. You could really contribute, our team now isn't exactly...that good."

"True. But I still won't join."

"Huh, why?"

Matthew stilled and a frown played on his lips. “Because I wouldn’t have time or energy to play it seriously.”

"But it's not like you have any after-school activities." You stated.

Chuckling, he ruffled your hair, "Not that you know of. Besides I never cared for those things."

"I guess-wait. 'That I know of?"

Before you could inquire any further, he interrupted you by pulling your body closer to his and kissed your forehead. Startled by his sudden display of affection, you pawed at his chest to let you go. As per usual, he didn't take it seriously and continued to wrap around you.

In his mind he sighed in relief, he had managed to divert your attention to something else. It was a close call. He really needed to be more careful and not let things slip, or it would turn sour quickly.

Trying to catch your breath, you glance up at Matthew and get lost in his familiar eyes. They drew you in with their expressive passion and wouldn't let you out of their grasp for even a second. With great love in his heart he leaned in and gently pressed his lips against yours. Your hands went around his neck and brought him closer.

You kiss deeply and both of you let out small gasps at the feeling. While the two of you were befining to intensely make-out on the couch.

the loud slam of a door stopped you in your tracks. Breaking off your kiss you hastily push Matthew away and turn your attention to the entrance. There stood one of your housemates looking absolutely horrified. At first you though it was because she'd accidentally walked in on you, but after her expression didn't break you started suspecting something else was at play.

"What is it?" You urgently ask and run up to her.

"W-we were just going to have some fun, that's all. It wasn't s-supposed to go like this." She shook.

Wanting to know what was wrong and help your friend, you try to press an answer from. Her.

She was actually starting to make you worried nOW.

"Things were fine at first-but then everything went wrong.."

Again you urged her to reply.

"Sarah is..-she.."

"What? Sarah is What?"

"Dead."

"The night of (date) an emergency call was made by one of the young adults attending a party hosted by an associate. The body of 20 year-old Sarah Summers was found in the bathroom on the second floor of the house.

The victim had multiple wounds covering her body and is showing great signs of struggle.The police now suspects it is the work of the same murderer that has been at large for the past five weeks."

[mikuni14]

It says a lot about the series when, days after an episode, I keep thinking not about the love scene, but about the anger scene 😎 I really think about this all the time and it's my most rewatched scene from episode 4. From the moment when Dr. Bitchalothon suggests Phaya's mental illness and that Tharn told him about it to "do you think I'm nuts?" I love everything about this scene, especially how actually serious it was and how Phaya didn't handle it well. I like that Phaya held off confronting Tharn because I think he felt that with this amount of anger and hurt, the confrontation could go very wrong and Phaya, even as angry as he was, didn't want to hurt Tharn. So he literally runs away from the dinner and doesn't contact Tharn, just like he did when Tharn ignored his calls (it was a trivial thing, now it's serious).

And I really don't blame Phaya for thinking that Tharn might have told Dr. Chalodick about his private affairs, because Phaya saw with his own eyes how close they were and no, Yai wasn't there. The only contact with Dr. Chaloprick has Tharn, and for Phaya, only he could tell him that. And he even sees Tharn telling doc about the police investigation! In addition, just a moment earlier, a person close to him talks with concern about his dreams and suggests a meeting with a doctor, which, combined with a conversation with a real doctor who somehow knows about his intimate problems and makes the diagnosis that Phaya has always feared, combined with a horrible sense of betrayal on Tharn's part… I'm not at all surprised that Phaya is struggling to deal with the situation in a normal way for him.

But he still feels the need to meet with Tharn, to see him, probably even shout his feelings in his face and how can he, Tharn, after everything they've been through together, think of him like that? That's why I look at him fondly in this scene when he enters the gym, all agitated, and starts boxing furiously 🥺 He wants to be in Tharn's presence, waiting for an opportunity to confront him, but at the same time he doesn't want to start talking to him for fear of losing it (which of course happens). That's why he's in the same room as Tharn, but next to him, not with him, letting him know that he's HERE, that he's angry, but he's HERE, which I admit makes me incredibly emotional and full of awwww 🥺🥺🥺. Just as watching Tharn, standing next to Phaya, uncertain and confused and lost, not knowing what to do because Phaya is ignoring him, which is against the law 🥺🥺🥺

It was a new situation for both of them and I'm glad they could see each other in this way before they became a couple. I'm very curious how they will solve this problem, I hope like adults with a hint of 🤡

Look at this perfect :C gosh I love him so much 😍

[kupkate04]

A Hapless Endearment || Creepypasta x F. Reader || Ch. 1 - To Grandmother's House We Go

—Quick author's note—

I'm sure you all know the drill by now, but for those of you who don't, here it is:

Y/n = Your name

L/n = Last name

N/n = Nickname

H/c = Hair color

E/c = Eye color

F/c = Favorite color

B/m = Birth month

S/t = Skin tone

B/s = Body shape

B/c = Blush color

L/c = Lip color

H/l = Hair length

Also, I try to leave Y/n up to interpretation as much as I can, although some things will still be assumed about her, whether that be the kind of food she likes or her style of clothing, etc. It's difficult for me to fully write for a character who's a "blank slate", just thought you should know! Enjoy reading~

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

She exudes an inaudible sigh, propping her jaw in her palm and gazing through the somewhat smudged surface of the glass. Trees and houses of varying sizes whiz by, blurring together and composing an evanescent of greens, browns, whites, and yellows. The sun sits high on its invisible throne above. Its warm, golden rays break through an army of fluffy clouds, capturing the atmosphere in a brilliant, cheery radiance.

Struggling to imagine the clouds morphing into fun, inspiring shapes due to her current lack of concentration, she frowns, letting her discouraged eyes fall. The engine hums, the AC whirs, and wheels scrape the asphalt below, bringing the passengers closer to their destination. They've halted a few times to allow everyone a chance to stretch their legs and collect themselves, which has been Y/n's saving grace. Still, after ten hours of riding, her muscles are stiff and she is more than eager to be free from the confinement of this chatter-brimmed bus. Nestled in her lap is a backpack, and below the seat, directly behind her legs, lies her duffel bag; both have been stuffed with an assortment of clothes and other items she deemed imperative to bring along. 

Headphones have been diligently positioned over her ears, the tunes that flood from which manage to block out most of the incessant noise surrounding her–including the ungodly snores of the man to her left. She fiddles with the wire, twirling it absentmindedly around her finger as she stares at the window frame, her mind wandering aimlessly amidst a blanket of fog. Languidly glimpsing to the side reveals her seating buddy has his head resting on the back of the bench, eyes closed and mouth hanging wide open. It's a wonder he hasn't caught a fly in there yet.

Ah, well. At least he doesn't stink.

She lets the dirty glass support her temple, her eyes threatening to seal shut. She's barely seized a wink of sleep throughout the course of this little road trip and her body is beginning to feel the full effects of it. Pondering momentarily how much longer it will be until they reach the station, a fleeting peek at her phone screen informs her of the time: 6:44 in the evening. The bus left at 6:30, so there shouldn't be much time remaining. Gosh, she can't wait to stand again. She's not even sure she remembers what her feet feel like.

She succumbs to the temptation to yawn quietly, giving her drooping eyes a reprieve. She thinks about what she's going to do when the bus parks and she saunters through the folding doors to reunite with her grandparents. It's been so many years since she saw them last. She was...nine? 

Memories of her childhood have grown faint, but she can recall how happy she always was around them; how much boundless joy they brought her simply by existing. They were never neglectful, impatient, or spiteful, no–only caring and affectionate and overflowing with love. She's missed having that kind of positive influence in her life. It's been hovering in the distance for so long, just out of reach. Taunting her. 

But now it doesn't matter, because she's coming back. She's finally going to see them again. 

It's unfortunate that it took seven years to convince her father to let her return. He's so swaddled in his needless resentment and self-pity that it's blinded him. She doesn't understand how he could care so little–be so detached from the two people who raised him with every ounce of adoration they possessed because of some silly disagreement a few years prior.

She isn't certain what transpired exactly; all she knows is the vague comments she was told by her mother. It was likely an argument based around the roads he was traversing to make an income, as it seems highly in-character for him to get offended by something so trivial. Knowing him, he blew their moral concerns out of proportion, pitched a hissy fit, and vowed never to speak to them again, dragging his daughter and wife into the crossfire. 

It was that reason and that reason alone why Y/n had to wait until she was sixteen to pay dear Nana and Pops a visit. He only relented because she wouldn't stop bothering him about it for two weeks straight after she found out both her parents would be out of the country during the summer for their jobs. She didn't want to be stuck at home for three months without any friends to spend time with, and she didn't want to go back to camp either, so traveling to Alabama for a summer vacation seemed like the only logical solution. They dropped her off with some money on their way to the airport, she bought a ticket, boarded the elongated vehicle, and that was that.

Her father had been less than enthused on the matter, and she recalls his torpid, irked expression reflecting in the rear-view mirror of the car as they pulled up to the bus stop. Her mother, on the other hand, was rather indifferent; far too invested in whatever messages lit up the screen of her phone to concern herself with domestic conflict. Y/n could only imagine which one of her flings she was texting this time, as situations involving her work certainly never gained her attention so fiercely.

A melancholic indignancy bubbles up within the girl's chest at the countless encounters she's had with her mom as of late that involved puny excuses, middle-of-the-night departures, and poorly-disguised secrets. She's never outright confirmed it, but her behavior is undeniably suspicious. She smiles more at her phone than she does when she's ever with her husband, and her 'husband' in question doesn't even seem to notice—or, if he does, simply doesn't care. Y/n hates it. Her family is falling apart at the seams and she's powerless to stop it. 

A bitter sensation grabs at her tongue and she desires to spit the foul taste out, though only swallows and chews the inside of her cheek, attempting to rid herself of the disconcerting concept. She searches the hollows of her mind for something, anything lighthearted; a memory that contains laughter, joy, fondness. However, she finds nothing. She’s unable to remember a delightful moment between herself and her parents that took place recently. A time when her father outwardly expressed happiness or her mother was shamelessly candid.

It's a distressing realization to approach, that her family hasn’t acted as a true family since she was twelve years old; only still a child when her clinquant life slowly came crashing down before her. She isn’t sure the exact minute that it happened, nor does she have a specific reason as to why it happened. All she knows is that her parents steadily grew more and more distant, drawing themselves out of her sight until the feeling of inevitable abandonment seeped in.

She tried to communicate with them, collapse their walls and get them to allow their only child back in, though each time without fail, they forced themselves farther back into the cold, bitter darkness and left her desperate, longing for their love and affection. It became apparent she was getting nowhere with them, so after many fruitless attempts, she threw her hands up in surrender.

The example they set was not a good one, yet she couldn't help but subconsciously follow their lead. She grew emotionally drained, jaded—bordering depressed, even. Suddenly, maintaining any relationships outside of her home became a chore; a nearly impossible task that needed more energy than what she was willing to sacrifice. The more her friends noticed her inner turmoil, the more they tried to help, and the more she pushed them away. After all, if her parents didn't care, why should she?

She would get over this miserable hump eventually, and she would do it alone. Cutting contact with her dearest companions was an easier feat than one would expect, as it was accidental and gradual and she always affirmed herself with the fact that it wasn't permanent. She could always get in touch later. But weeks passed, and then months, and she made no effort to do that. At some point, she convinced herself that they wouldn't take her back now anyway. It had been too long, and she had treated them coldly. She wouldn't want to be friends with her, either—there was too much drama and emotional baggage.

It feels as if the person she once was fades from reality a little more every passing day, becoming invisible among people and society as a whole, including herself. Somewhere in the back of her troubled mind lays her positive outlook on life, and it's been locked in a box with the key thrown away. 

Now sixteen years of age, she still struggles with these ill-fated circumstances and her dilapidated mental state but has learned to drive a vast majority of it into the chasms of her brain, leaving her an empty, aggrieved husk.

She blinks, reemerging from her thoughts of deep disdain as she registers the large vehicle she sits in turn off the main stretch of road and park in front of a building—the Fairfield bus station. She's here.

Despite the otherwise displeasing series of events that lead up to this, she feels a glint of excitement, pausing her music and gingerly removing her headphones, being careful not to tangle the wire as she unplugs it from the MP3 Player and wraps them around the f/c object. She then takes hold of her backpack, still open from where she retrieved the source of entertainment, and shoves them inside, zipping it closed after finishing.

Eagerly, she bends over to reach below the seat and lift up her dufflebag in preparation before glancing out the window, e/c irises gleaming in the rays of sun. The bus brakes, the door is slid open, and several of the passengers rise. She isn't far behind, throwing her bags over her shoulder and squeezing past the man's broad legs, being careful not to thwack him upside the head with her luggage as she does so. He's barely disturbed, stirring for a few seconds before drifting off back to the realm of dreams. Merging into the middle aisle, she tries to control her rapidly-beating heart as she treads to the exit, being mindful of the people surrounding her in every feasible direction. 

How will Nana and Pops react to seeing her again, after all this time? Will they still love her? She has changed in significant ways, and not necessarily for the better, either. Surely that won't deter them, right? Of course not. I'm one of their only grandchildren. They won't stop caring about me just cause I've grown up.

Though her pep-talk does little to soothe a new wave of anxieties that wash over her like an angry tsunami. 

Oh gosh. What if it's super awkward?

She maneuvers down the stairs and makes distance between herself and the mode of transportation, scanning the crowd to locate the elderly pair her thoughts center around. A whirl of nervousness penetrates her stomach, her brows knitting together subtly. 

What if they've changed? What if they're just like Dad?

But as she meets the warm brown eyes of Nana from afar and notices the giant, surprised smile stretching across her features, all doubt withers away, and she offers a meek wave. The lady bumps the arm of the hefty man sitting next to her to gather his attention before she springs to her feet and sprints to greet Y/n, her expression contorted into one of pure bliss. A small grin tugs at Y/n's face, and she stands idle, taking into account Nana's appearance as she hurries forward. 

She’s adorning a floral dress, patterned with tiny petaled flowers of all different shapes and a skirt that drapes down to her shins. Her shoes are simple beige sandals, and her grey, fine hair is tied back into a Chinese-inspired bun. Her eyes are kind and welcoming, though sunken with age and life experience, and the wrinkles that crease her forehead and cheeks only clue Y/n in on how old she must be getting, now.

"Y/n!" Nana calls out, voice brimmed with exhilaration as she dodges other pedestrians before reaching out and enveloping the h/c in a tight embrace, her frail arms wrapping around her frame and reeling her in as close as she can. Her actions almost knock both of them to the ground, but Y/n balances herself before she can stumble and reciprocates the gesture. 

"Hi, Nana," she says, tone more genial than it's been in a long time. A pleasant scent wafts up into her nose; a peaceful aroma, a mixture of strawberries and cinnamon. She hugs back with her free arm soon after, squeezing her grandmother’s scrawny torso with as little force as required so she doesn’t somehow injure her. 

Pops joins his wife with a notably calmer pace and snakes his arms around the two smaller individuals, his slightly yellowed teeth apparent through his beam. A stout man of classic tastes, he wears a 1950s fedora, a baby blue collared shirt, and suspenders. His hold is strong and secure and Y/n feels an almost overwhelming sense of comfort slam into her without warning. She chuckles—a soft, elated sound—and her chest is flooded with gleeful fuzziness. It's certainly an odd, foreign type of feeling, but she accepts it nonetheless. "Welcome home, kiddo."

"We've missed you so much," Nana chirps, pulling away after what has to be a solid two minutes and prompting Pops to do the same. Her wrinkled hands grasp her shoulders before sliding up to cup her face, gently tilting it upward to get a better look. A stunned expression crawls across her attributes before it’s replaced by a wider—if it’s even viable—smile. “Oh, you’ve grown so much!” She turns her head. “Phil, do you see her?”

“Aye. I sure do,” he says with a proud nod of his head. “She’s just as pretty as she was the last time she visited.” Blush dusts itself along the apples of her cheeks and she averts her line of sight, embarrassed. He chuckles. “Just as bashful, too.”

“Leave her alone.” She pivots again to face her, excitement dancing in her faded brown eyes. She brushes a strand of hair behind her ear before giving her another hug. “We’ve missed you, sweetie. It’s been too long.” Y/n nods timidly, not accustomed to being so doted on. Behind her, the wheels of the bus grind against the asphalt as it leaves shortly after the doors close, and she twists her head around just in time to see it drive away, leaving her there for the summer. There's no other place she'd rather be, and their presence is only confirming those feelings. "We have so much catching up to do! I haven’t seen you since you were a little girl.” She looks back at the old woman and feels her squeeze her arm. “How old are you now? Fifteen?”

“She looks more grown-up than that,” Phil comments, and Y/n shrugs, biting her lip.

“Uh, I...turned sixteen in B/m.”

“My word!” Nana exclaims, cupping a hand to her mouth to emphasize. “You’re practically an adult, already!”

“Only a few years older than that darned cat of yours, Farrah,” he says, and Y/n’s eyes light up at the mention of the familiar feline.

“Marshmallow?” she questions, astonished enthusiasm coursing through her, once again. “He’s still alive?”

“Why, yes, he is,” Farrah laughs as if amused by her inquiry. “Getting on up there, though. I’m a little shocked to know you remember him.”

“Of course I remember him,” she says, the volume of her voice increasing with glee. “He’s my little buddy. I wonder if he still remembers me...”

“I’m sure he does,” Phil says. “He was always followin’ you around. Probably cause you spoiled him all the time with leftovers.” The corners of her mouth pull upward and she rubs the back of her neck.

“Well...he needs to be spoiled. Too sweet not to be spoiled.”

“Very true.” Farrah smiles.

“And yet I can’t even have a dog in the house,” he grumbles playfully. “You cat lovers don’t make any sense.”

“We don’t have to ‘make sense’,” Farrah says. “Cats are gorgeous, wholesome creatures, and they deserve to be treated as such.”

“Sure, sure.” He waves her off. “You treat that cat better than you do me.”

“Well, you’re not covered in angelic fur and lay on my lap to cuddle, now do you?” She raises a thin eyebrow, and he scoffs.

“I can lay in your lap if that’s what you want.”

“No, thank you.”

“Well, c’mon woman, make up your mind!”

“My mind is made up! Now, come on, dear.” She tugs Y/n to her and begins walking toward the grey-blue Toyota Corolla that sits motionless in the parking lot, and the teenager follows, readjusting the bags hanging on her shoulder. 

“You want me to carry those for you?” Phil asks, and she glances over at him, her eyes widening, taken off-guard by the abrupt offer. But she collects her bearings rather quickly and shakes her head with a grateful smile.

“N-no thanks, Pops. I got it.”

“Whatcha got in those things? They look heavy.” 

“Um...clothes and stuff,” she replies quietly as they reach the 2007 vehicle, Nana shuffling into the passenger's seat and Pops opening the back door for her. She tosses her luggage to the opposite side and climbs in, smiling up at him to signal that she's done. He nods in acknowledgement and shuts the door, soon claiming the area behind the steering wheel and cranking the engine. The interior of the car smells like lavender, thanks to the cardboard air freshener swaying below the rear-view mirror, and the beige-toned leather lining the seats is torn in various places, no doubt because of how many years it has under its belt. 

"You got any'a that modern technology that kids use nowadays?"

The air conditioning blasts through the vents to cool the space as he puts the car in reverse to back out of the lot before shifting the gear, navigating between other automobiles, and driving onto the highway. Y/n clicks her buckle into place and twiddles her thumbs, jerking her shoulders up lightly, though she knows he won't be able to see it. "I—I mean, I have a cellphone, if that's what you're asking..."

"A cellphone, huh?" He eyes her in the mirror and she shrinks away meekly, unsure of how to react to the sincere attention. "We have one of those. Don't really know how to work it though."

"You sure do know your way around Solitaire for someone who doesn't know how a phone works." Nana's light jab makes him scoff playfully as he stares through the windshield observantly. 

"You know what, Little Miss Sassypants? Yeah, I do. That app is the only reason I ever even pick it up."

"And when you do, you're playing it for three hours straight."

"It's enjoyable!" Huffing, he shoots her a glare of faux annoyance. "Don't act like you ain't got things that you spend hours at a time doing."

"My hobbies are productive, as opposed to yours, so that excludes me from this discussion."

"That sounds like code for 'I know I'm losing so I'm gonna back out now before I'm called out on it'."

"False." She flattens out her skirt and narrows her eyes at him. "I don't speak in code, dear."

He laughs gruffly at that sentence, plainly not buying her words. "Keep thinkin' that, sweetheart." 

The frisky banter has Y/n failing to suppress a grin, having forgotten how well her grandparents get along, and why they've stayed married for almost sixty years. If only Mom and Dad had that kind of chemistry. Maybe then their home wouldn't be so void of love and life every waking moment. 

"So how was the trip, Y/n?" Nana twists around to the best of her ability to catch a glimpse of her granddaughter, seeming to completely brush the mini argument aside and spare Y/n her undivided recognition, eyes touching base with her own. 

"It was okay," she mumbles, voice just loud enough for them to understand her. "I'm ready to stop riding for a while, though."

"I'm sure. You traveled a long way. I'm glad you stayed safe."

Pops decides to contribute to the conversation. "How's your dad doin'?"

Her face scrunches up faintly as she racks her brain for a suitable answer that won't draw any concerned feedback. "Uh... He's busy. Him and Mom both."

"Figured that much. Probably why they're leaving the country in the first place, huh?"

Her gaze drops to her knees. "Yeah..." 

"Do they do that often?" Nana asks, her tone curious. "Take trips for their job?"

"That's like, forty percent of what they do..." She registers the car turning left sharply, onto a dirt road that leads into a capacious patch of forestry. They pass a faded blue and white sign, and the letters in bold printed across its surface reveals: Oneiric Lane, half a mile.

Wow, almost there already.

"But, um...it's usually not so far away," she continues her previous statement as they drive over gravel and rocks in their path, making the ride a little bumpy. "Not usually for such a long time, either."

"They still workin' for the same company?" Pops says. If Y/n were to listen extra closely, she'd be able to detect the tiniest hint of enmity masked within his voice. She blows a bubble into her cheek.

"Yeah, but it got sold to another corporate body a couple years ago and they changed a lot of things. So both of them have been on duty a lot more since then."

"I bet that's been stressful." 

"It's..." She could speak the truth, but the truth would dampen the mood, so she goes for a lighter alternative. "It's fine. They don't mind some extra work. Just means more money in the bank."

Pops mutters something under his breath, but Y/n can't decipher it. She can only assume it isn't anything particularly nice, based on the conversation that elicited it. 

Before she can dwell on it for too extensive of a period, a familiar, Victorian-style cottage becomes visible, and a ghost of a smile sweeps across her features as she perks up. Around the house lies a white picket fence, fringed with beautiful flowers of all different colors, their stems having grown tall and coiled themselves around each individual post, giving it an engagingly untamed appearance.

At the gate, about ten feet from the front door perches an intricate white arch made of wicker and intertwined with more vibrant plants, and the house itself is a muted shade of cyan, with an ornate wooden roof that sparkles like tiny crystals in the glittery stream of sun. The window frames are white, their shutters open to allow optical access inside of the home, and stained glass roses rim the transparent pane.

The whole architecture makes it look as if the words from a book of fairy tales crept out of its pages and sprung into existence, staying hidden between the trees until someone comes across it. It takes her breath away, and she stares in awe, waiting anxiously for Pops to guide the Toyota off the road so she can jump out and get re-acquainted with it all.

I forgot how incredible this place was... She unbuckles, practically leaning against the glass in building anticipation as the car comes to a stop in their driveway, a few feet from the gate and underneath a willow tree. She extends her hand hastily to grasp the door handle and swings it open, the early summer breeze caressing her skin as she hops out, the bottom of her shoes making contact with vivid green grass. She steals a big whiff of the unpolluted air, natural scents swirling through her nostrils as she drags her belongings out of the car and slings them over her shoulder once again.

Nana copies her movements and Pops isn't too far behind her. She gives her an encouraging pat on the back, then motions for her to trail after her as she moves toward the arched gateway, unlatching it to grant her entrance. "Wait till you see the dinner I'm whipping up, Y/n," Nana says as they walk along a neat path of polished stones and white marble. "You still like pineapple casserole, right?"

"Yes," Y/n says with no hesitation, the very image of the dish making her mouth water. Although she hadn't had the privilege of eating it in years, one thing she can remember clearly is how delicious it was—then again, everything Nana cooks is delicious, so maybe that point is moot. On either side of the orderly pathway are two rows of tulips, comprising pink, white, red, and violent, perfectly maintained. It astounds her how her grandparents can keep the garden so alluring while also making sure the house is in tip-top shape. They surely tidied up before she arrived, but they're also the kind of people who like a neat living space, so she doubts they had to do much. 

"I'm so happy to hear that!" She claps cheerfully as they reach the painted oak door, and both females make room for Pops as he conquers the porch stairs and wrenches the screen toward him, the creaking of its old and unoiled hinges evoking a sound similar to a screech. He rifles around in his pocket, pulls out the keys, and unlocks the entrance, holding it open as his wife and granddaughter stride through. 

Y/n examines the property in wonder. Along the floor lies a hand-knitted rug, shaped like a rectangle with additional ruffles at its edges. On her left is a vacant doorway to the living room, with a vintage floral-patterned sofa resting against the wall, and next to it, facing the front door are two chairs; one matching the couch and the other a darker, less feminine material. A frosted glass coffee table sits in front of them, and beneath it is a hickory plank floor.

Past the living area is a small dining room, with a wooden table and four chairs slid neatly on every side, and behind that is an antique China cabinet with double doors and several drawers, all of which are transparent and hold various cups, platters, and knick-knacks that have been collected over the years. Straight ahead is a linear staircase;  she remembers it leading up to the bedrooms and the second bathroom. To her right is a kitchen, with a white, ceramic-tiled floor, a long countertop that curls around the edges of the room; the refrigerator and the oven both fit snugly.

Hanging overhead is an oven light and cabinets with crystal knobs, and in the center is an island, with a vase of lemon yellow roses, a casserole dish, and a couple of pots.

The fragrance of honeysuckle crawls into her nose, as well as the smell of a currently-cooking turkey, mixing and creating a rainstorm of nostalgia. She almost cries from raw mirth. I really missed it here...

“Make yourself comfortable, dear,” Farrah chirps from behind her, giving her a few moments to get used to her new—but amicable—surroundings. “If you need me, I'll be finishing up dinner.” Y/n gives a soft hum in response, stepping farther inside and allowing herself to succumb to the wave of memories that bombard her.

Her eyes sweep over everything in reverence as she comes to a halt in front of the staircase, glimpsing back at her grandmother with a sheepish demeanor and parting her lips. “Um...am I staying in Aunt Darcy's old room? Or somewhere else?” A flash of realization shimmers in Farrah’s eyes before she steps forward and nods her head.

Farrah nods as Pops shuts the door, blocking the bright sunlight and capturing the area in a bit more darkness. “Yes, that's where you can sleep, store your things, anything. Of course, your dad's room is available too, but I didn't figure you'd want to stay somewhere with all those ugly band posters."

She breathes a quiet laugh. “Y-yeah, Aunt Darcy’s room will be fine." She spins on her heel and begins her small trek up the dozen or so stairs. The concept of being in her father’s childhood bedroom doesn’t sit right in her stomach. “Thank you, Nana.”

“Are you sure you don’t need any help with your bags?” she questions from below, her soft voice echoing upward and easily extending to Y/n’s ears. “They look awfully heavy.”

“No, it’s okay, I got ‘em,” she reassures, attaining the top step and taking a moment to pilot the somewhat narrow space before her. On the floor is a thin white rug that stretches the length of the hallway; to her immediate right is a small, polished table that supports a dainty-looking bouquet of petunias in a glass vase. On her left is a door that's been left ajar, divulging a bit of the interior and reminding her that this is indeed where she’s going.

She uses her free hand to push it open, lighting up when she wanders inside. The walls are a pristine, rosy pink, with a floor crafted out of ash wood planks that complements the design and hues nicely. On the opposite side of the room is a bed, made as a sort of cubbyhole into the wall and at a direct angle next to a window. Built into the wall are two bookshelves, both on either side of the bed and filled with colorful books of assorted sizes.

Beneath the mattress is a long drawer which she recalls to be a trundle bed. Attached to the ceiling above is a set of turquoise sheers, slid to either side of the sleeping niche, and loosely tied to the wall with some twine. In one corner, next to the other window, hangs a basket swing, with two pink pillows placed inside to cushion it. To her right is a closet, the door shut and a shoe organizer clinging to its top edge. Inside the pouches are several pairs of footwear, each separated and easily discernible.

A white, fluffy rug lays spread across the floor, underneath a clothes hamper, a small, cushioned bench, and a cotton bean bag chair. A chipped desk sits pressed against the wall, with several drawers inside and a stool of the same color pushed neatly beneath it. A reading lamp stands atop the surface, along with a couple of minuscule baskets to hold diverse writing tools; a notebook and binder stacked onto each other, a glass paperweight, and a mirror.

She releases an inaudible sigh, the corners of her lips quirking up into a content smile as she walks further inside, depositing her bags on the bed and doing a double-take of her temporary bedroom. A giddy sensation arises within her chest; one she hasn’t experienced in far too long. She turns her head and gazes through the open window, viewing the yard of green grass and colorful flowers below and admiring how the sun’s stunning yellow beams peer down through the towering trees.

She unzips her duffle bag and removes a pile of clothes from the main compartment, busying herself over the course of the next thirty minutes. The walk-in closet isn't huge but still larger than she remembered, meaning there's plenty of space to store all of her clothing pieces. She takes note of the fact that a vast majority of her aunt's stuff is no longer here, and she presumes Nana removed them to create space or Darcy herself came by and collected everything. Y/n hangs a good half of her items and keeps the rest folded, stuffing them into the shelf of drawers across from the door. She refrains from unpacking her art supplies and other accessories just yet, as it would feel weird and wrong to get so comfortable here after so little time. 

After throwing her—now empty—bag into the corner, her stomach rumbles and she concludes that the last thing she ate was a honey bun, and that was hours ago. Yearning to ease her mild sense of famine, she pivots, leaves the room, and descends the stairs, once again being swathed by the pleasant smell of food, only this time, it's much more intense.

Farrah sends Y/n an affectionate smile as she turns off the oven and waves her in. “Hi, sweetie. Are you settling in okay?” The teenager nods, letting the smell lure her, and steps inside.

“Yes, ma'am. I had forgotten how nice this house was.” The woman chuckles in response, grabbing one of the three plates on the counter and passing it to her. She takes it in her hands and shoots her a look of gratitude.

"It isn't as clean as I would like it to be, but oh well. I'm too old to dust away every little cobweb." She sighs in disbelief, eyes twinkling. "Maybe I should hire a maid."

"That might be a good idea. You don't wanna overdo yourself." Nana occupies herself with making a plate of food for her husband, listening to Y/n talk and humming along. "But, uh...while I'm here, I'd be happy to help you with anything you have to get done."

"How sweet of you to offer, N/n." She grins as she scoops a spoonful of mashed potatoes onto the dish. "I'll keep that in mind. Now, please—eat something. It's all ready."

"Thanks for this, Nana." She finds her way around the woman and gets a serving of everything—potatoes, turkey, rolls, pineapple casserole. The thought of indulging herself makes her want to melt. "It smells delicious." 

"Oh, you're so welcome, dear." She pours a glass of milk for Pops and offers a toothy smile. "I hardly ever get to cook for anyone besides your grandfather and myself. This is an honor."

Y/n feels compelled to hug her again, but ultimately resists the urge, not wishing to take a chance on spilling the food being held in both sets of hands. Tears threaten to rim her eyes, her grip tightening on the plate. Such displays of selflessness is a stranger to her, but she cherishes every second of it. "I love you, Nana."

She fails to see the way Farrah's heart swells at her words, her face contorting into one of deep adoration. "Oh, I love you too, Y/n—me and Phil both. So much. And we're so happy you wanted to come visit us."

After a short exchange of smiles, Nana departs and Y/n finishes gathering her meal, fetching a bottle of water from the fridge and heading into the dining room, noticing Pops already sitting at the table, silently awaiting his own share of food. She lowers herself into the chair opposite him, the steam from the hot meal floating up into her face and making her eager to taste it. 

“Hello, young lady,” he greets, and she meets his copper-brown eyes. “This house treatin' you okay?”

“Yes, sir,” she replies with a slight dip of her head.

“Is it cozy enough for ya? I know you’re used to all those fancy items and rich city life, so I’m sorry if it doesn’t meet your expectations.” Her eyes widen almost a comical amount and she stares at him as if he’d attempted to behead her. Taking a scoop of mashed potatoes with her spoon, she swiftly shakes her head before taking a bite.

“No, Pops, it does. The country’s amazing.” She brushes a strand of h/c hair behind her ear and swallows the flavorful vegetable. “City life isn’t that good. Honestly, I’d rather be here than in some hundred-thousand-dollar penthouse.” A large, satisfied smile takes residence on his wrinkled features and his eyes crinkle up before he laughs blissfully.

“You hear this, Farrah?” He regards the said woman as she enters the dining room, taking her rightful seat to the side of her spouse and passing his plate to him. “This girl hasn’t been tainted yet. We should keep her here, make sure she stays that way.”

A kind grin etches across her lips, though she dismisses him. “I don’t think her parents would approve of that, Phil.”

“No, they wouldn’t care,” Y/n murmurs in response, noticing the pitying looks being thrown her way, and she eats a forkful of casserole to fill the somewhat tense silence that’s fallen over the table. She keeps her eyes trained on the platter in front of her, suddenly finding it much more interesting.

“I’m sure that’s not true, sweetie.” Farrah’s voice is tender and reaffirming. Y/n only shrugs.

“They'd probably forget I was here at all, after a while. Too caught up in their own lives to really remember something like that.” Her tone drops within each word, embarrassment creeping up into her mind and flushing her cheeks a pale tone of b/c. Phil shakes his head disapprovingly while Farrah just watches her with sympathy.

“That’s shameful,” he starts, his voice flooded with disdain. “You're their daughter. How could they just forget about you?"

“I...I don't know. They just can, and have gotten pretty great at it, too.”

“When did all this start, sweetheart?” the old woman questions, sipping her drink.

“A few years ago, I guess...” It’s silent for several moments and Y/n wishes she wouldn’t have even interjected at all. Perhaps she just feels that she can tell them anything. Way to ruin the mood, genius.

“Hun, they’re not...abusing you, or anything, right?” The teenager can sense the reluctance in her words as if she’s afraid to hear the answer, and Y/n is quick to shoot her inquiry down.

“N-no, Nana, don’t worry. Nothing like that.” She releases an audible huff of air, relieved.

“Don't they spend time with you or anything?” Phil asks, leaning forward and facing her with agitation. She scours her brain for a coherent reply.

“Uh...no, not—not really.” She glances up briefly to meet his eyes, trying to shroud the hurt found in her own. “They hardly even talk to me. They don’t even talk to each other anymore. Dad’s always too busy and Mom is...” She swallows, probably a little too hard, and subconsciously taps her foot against the floor; a nervous habit she's taken to whenever her anxiety levels rise.

Her mind flashes with images of her mother sneaking out in the dead of the night. When asked about it, she'd snap at her, insist it was for 'business', and leave it at that. She remembers that one time she borrowed her phone to email her teacher, since hers had stopped working the previous day, and instead got notified of a message, received from a man with an unknown name. Initially, she believed it was a coworker or friend, but the contents of said 'message' involved raunchy flirting and, upon opening his contact, these advances were heavily reciprocated, and he wasn't the only one. It made her sick to her stomach. Sure, she was aware that Mom and Dad weren't exactly at a healthy place in their marriage, but she never thought one of them would actively cheat on the other. Those actions were guaranteed to ruin a family, yet her mother didn't seem to care in the least. 

Her foot makes a soft thump noise each time it collides with the floor, though her mind blocks it out as she tries to draw herself back into reality. “Uhh... Keeping secrets.” Phil and Farah share a glance.

“What kind of secrets, darlin’?” her grandfather asks, and her grip tightens on the fork in her hand. Does she really want to say this?

“I—I think, well, uhm... She’s cheating on Dad.” She doesn’t look up to see the startled expressions on their faces, afraid that they’ll judge her and her parents. “I mean, the way she's been acting, texting people all the time, sneaking out of the house, e-especially at night, and I’ve caught her before but she just got mad and said it was ‘business-related’.” She brushes a strand of hair out of her eyes. “Plus, Mom and Dad haven’t gone on a date in forever. And I don’t know, it’s just...worrying.”

“Sweetie,” Farah starts, and Y/n internally winces at the strict tone that her voice adopted, “that kind of behavior is unacceptable.” She shakes her head in agreement, taking another bite of her food though finding that her appetite is steadily decreasing. “We need to talk to them about this.”

“No,” she interjects, finally meeting Farrah’s eyes with frightened e/c ones. “They can’t know I told you all of this. They—they’ll hate me.”

“If this is true, something needs to be done,” Phil says, his bushy eyebrows furrowed in distaste. “You don’t need to be in a house with two people that are so unstable. We could call them and you could stay with us.” Although the thought of living in a house with her loving grandparents sounds fantastic, she refuses by shaking her head again and speaking in a tremulous voice.

“N-no, it’s alright. I can deal with it.” Although her parents don’t seem to care about her anymore, she would most definitely shatter whatever remnants of a relationship they still have between the three of them if they were to find out what she told Farrah and Phil, and she doesn’t want that. She doesn’t want her parents to despise her; that would be a horrid feeling. And she wants to avoid experiencing it.

The rest of the dinner goes by at a leisurely pace for the girl, with her grandparents attempting to talk about more lighthearted subjects to cheer her up, and it moderately works. They ask her about school, her friends, whether she’s in a relationship yet, to which she responds with valid answers: “It’s good”, “I don’t have friends”, and “No”. It makes itself more apparent to them with every reply she isn’t living a normal, decent life. But they figure it’d be best not to pry too much. After all, she’s here for a break, not to be harassed with questions and pity.

She stands with her plate and bottle of water in her hand after swallowing the final bite, pushes the chair back under the table with her foot, and walks past Farrah and toward the kitchen, feeling full and tired. Her gaze shifts to the window, perceiving the orange and pink mixture in the sky through the leaves of the trees, signifying that the sun is setting below the horizon and darkness will soon replace its blaze of light.

“Marshmallow is probably waiting outside if you wanna let him in for the night,” the woman hollers from the dining room as Y/n discards her dishes in the sink and rinses them off under warm water. Thinking about seeing the furry feline after such a long time causes her heart to skip in excitement, and she nods, knowing Farrah won’t bear witness to it.

“Okay, Nana.” She finishes washing the porcelain and silverware and props them in the plastic drainer resting on the counter-top before walking a little quicker than normal, unlocking the front door and nudging it open, being welcomed by a cooler evening gust of wind.

She glances around the small porch and can’t help but smile when she lays her eyes on the white and grey cat sitting on an old chair, swiping his paw over his face to clean himself. He peers up at her curiously, and she approaches at a gradual pace to avoid scaring him.

“Marshmallow? You remember me?” She sticks her hand out and lets him sniff her fingers before fondly rubbing his head. “It’s Y/n. I haven’t been back for a while.”

He stands and lets out a small meow, rubbing against her palm and enjoying the affection he’s receiving. She moves forward and wraps her arms around him, deeming it safe enough, and lifts him to bring him inside. He bumps his head against her neck and she can hear distinctive purring; a sound she hasn’t heard in years.

“Aww,” she coos, unable to stop herself from coddling the furry creature. “I missed you, too, little buddy.” She turns, walks back into the house, and shuts the door behind her, nearly colliding with Farrah as she goes into the kitchen, holding two plates and a glass with a few droplets of liquid remaining.

She takes notice of Y/n and grins at the sight. “Ah, see? We told you he’d remember you.” The girl scratches Marshmallow under his chin, eliciting another meow of content from his mouth. His tail swishes and bumps her on the arm, making her chuckle.

“Yeah. He’s just as soft as I remember, too. And cuddly.” As she says this, she hugs him closer to her chest, and Farrah smiles warmly as she places the plates in the sink. “Do you need help cleaning up?”

“No, thank you, hun.” She parts her lips to object, but Farrah shakes her head. “You just spend some time with the fur baby. Finish settling in.” Y/n feels Marshmallow struggle against her hold, so she crouches and loosens her grip, allowing him to jump down and sprint to some area on the first floor, presumably his food bowl.

“Are you sure? You know I don't mind.”

“I can’t believe you’re the spawn of my son,” she says, chuckling and wiping down the surface of a saucer. “It’ll be fine, sweetie. I’ve got it covered for now. You go and relax.” Y/n figures that as stubborn as she is, her grandmother is much more so and it won’t do her any good to argue about it. Emitting a sigh, she grabs her water bottle from where she laid it on the island in the center of the kitchen and hesitantly ambles toward the staircase.

“Okay...but, tell me if you need help?”

“Stop worrying. You’re the guest here.” Without another word, she heads up to her temporary bedroom, unaware that she’s being followed by a certain feline, and sets her bottle on the desk before grabbing her backpack to move it off her bed. As she twists around to walk to the desk, she stumbles over Marshmallow, who's rubbing against her leg, and just barely catches her balance before falling on the poor cat.

It takes a short moment to calm herself and get over the unexpected adrenaline rush that swamps her system, but once she does, she scoffs. “Trying to trip me already?” She reaches down and scratches his head, and he momentarily stands on his hind feet as a response. “Silly cat.”

Marshmallow finds a bed on the cozy-looking beanbag as she finds a place for her bag and goes to sleep rather swiftly, his body curled in around itself as his shoulders gently rise and fall with each breath he takes. She strokes his cheek tenderly with her index finger, admiring the ivory and light grey fur that graces his small frame. She can barely remember the last time she pet an animal of any kind because it was so long ago, and many grim things have happened since then.

Sitting on the bed, her eyes drift out the window, where the sun has almost completely vanished and a full, bright moon now replaces it, dozens of stars beginning to litter the sky, all surrounding the miraculous white orb. I never get a view like this from the city.

She can’t help her entrancement of the scenery and feels a trace of disappointment that she hasn’t seen more of it. All because of her selfish parents. She leans her head against the windowpane and surveys it, blended emotions making her feel conflicted. But she assures herself that it will be fine. She will be fine. Everything will work out in the end.

Yeah. There's nothing to worry about.

[lefaystrent]

Florida Man Cannot Be Contained

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: platonic dlampr

Summary: Contrary to popular belief, Remus is not the menace of the friend group.

It's Patton.

-------------------------------------------------------

The six of them were hanging out for the first time.

More accurately, Logan had recently been absorbed into Virgil's friend group.

They've had classes together over a few semesters. Logan's majoring in Chemical Engineering, and Virgil's majoring in Forensic Science, so there's some overlap and a lot of shared interests. While he appreciated Virgil's clever-streak and conversational merit, Logan never would have offered to spend time together outside of the classroom. He convinced himself he didn't need extracurriculars, like friendship.

"Come meet my friends, nerd," Virgil ordered after class one day.

And that was that.

On their way to a pizza joint outside of campus, Logan observed the others. They were loud, obnoxious, flamboyant, and below his intelligence. His mother would never approve.

Logan vindictively liked them.

"Oh my gosh, I love your new bag, Janus!"

"Thank you, it's Prada."

"I didn't know they sold Prada at Goodwill."

"....they do now."

Virgil maneuvered himself to be his social buffer. He kept close by Logan's elbow, and muttered meanings to inside jokes and slang to him when Logan so much as raised a brow. At some point, he stopped in his tracks.

"What is it?" Logan asked, halting beside him. The rest of the group drifted slowly past them, the gait of their walk unhurried. Everyone was too busy enjoying gossiping.

Except Patton. He had this wild look in his eyes and he began to shuffle off the sidewalk. His lips pressed together tight as if he were holding back a grin.

"Patton, man, don't," Virgil told him, but Patton wasn't looking at him. He stole glances at Roman, making sure that the other was too caught up in conversation with his brother to pay attention to him. He took a few steps to the right into the grass near a house. Then he took off.

Roman, catching on too late, noticed the man run with a strange mixture of dawning horror and exasperated suffering. "Pat– Patton. Pat, please– don't you DARE, GET BACK HERE!" He tossed his bag to Remus halfway through and took off in a dead sprint.

"What is happening?" Logan asked.

"Patton's a lunatic," Virgil sighed. Janus sighed as well and Remus spurred Patton on with whoops.

Patton hightailed it into the backyard of the random house and unceremoniously belly flopped into the pool. Roman jumped in right behind, barely pausing to shuck off his shoes in time, the sneakers flying through the air.

"Does he often trespass?" Logan questioned. "I'm not bothered, just curious."

"Only when there are pools involved. He does it so Roman will save him."

"Why would he need saving?"

"The idiot can't swim."

Out in the pool, Logan can make out some of Roman's nonplussed yelling after he resurfaced with an armful of Patton. Patton, for his part, seemed endlessly pleased with himself.

"My hero!" Patton gushed and began fawning over Roman, much to his chagrin.

Then the homeowner came out and Janus concocted an outlandish story consisting of how Patton fell into the pool totally by accident.

"This is the third time this week," the homeowner accused.

"And to that I say..." Janus paused. He took off his hat, held it to his chest, opened his mouth to elaborate–

And ran the fuck away.

"There he goes," Remus whistles. "How I hate to see it, how I love to watch it."

Roman sat at the pool's edge, arms resting on his knees and absolutely soaked. "You're grounded," he told Patton sitting beside him.

Patton beamed with pride. Virgil tried to hide behind his hands.

"Please just leave," the homeowner requested.

They quickly made themselves scarce.