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voicefromunderthecovers · 2 years ago

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Total Drama: The Creeps Cut Episode 1 | Not So Happy Campers

Chapter 0: Audition Tapes

Ezekiel

In a dusty, cluttered, cramped space with a mess meeting you at every corner, sat on top of an old, barely functional TV is the field of vision of a low budget, partially grainy camera. A greasy, pimpled hick with an awkward air about him scratches the back of his pencil neck insecurely before flashing a small closed smile.

“Yo, name’s Ezekiel, or like, Zeke, y’know? As you can probably tell, I’m kinda new to this whole celebrity thing, eh.” His smile fades and he looks around nervously. A few coughs can be heard in the background as he rubs his arm. “Anyway, Pa used to be the breadwinner but now he can’t work as hard no more. I’m gonna get on this show and bring home the bacon instead, I mean, without me, there’s no way I’m gonna be able to support ma. I’m ramblin, I know, y’know? Er, you know what to do.” His dopey grin ends off the video.

Two men, one tall and built and the other small but well put together are sitting and watching the following tapes. They glance at each other and shrug. “So.. what do you think?” Chef Hatchet, the larger man asks.

“I’d say the kid’ll be at least partially fun to make fun of. But people also love a good rags to riches story. I’m game! Next?” The smaller one, Chris Mclean, beckons an intern to supply him with the next tape.

Eva

The first shot of the video is of a black haired, butch type woman doing pulls up at a close-up angle in a public gym. A few prettier, pinker girls walk behind her and mutter something as she finishes up her routine, grunting out the number of reps she’s done.

“57.. 58.. 59.. 60!”

She then hops down on her feet, solidly standing tall. She nearly lets her eyes linger towards the sound of the teenage girls in the background she can so obviously hear, but refocuses on the camera, tightens her fists and talks to the hosts.

“You see that? I’m the only girl in my school who can do more than ten pull ups. So whatever you can throw at me, I can handle it.” She points at herself confidently, head held high and eyes closed. The girls in the background find a red dodgeball and aim it. “Bring it-” BOINK!

It collides with her temple, knocking her off balance. “HEY! You’re dead, you hear me?!” She barks as their fits of giggling turn to panicked gasps and screams. The footage cuts just as the girl rushes at the posse harassing her. It returns to an image of the angry teenage girl with blood on her fists, now outside of the gym on the sidewalk.

“My name is Eva Chantrey. If you want a fierce, no holds barred competitor who is also a huge team player.. You’ll pick me.” She points a thumb in her chest. “Hey, you can edit this, right? Good.”

Chris and Chef recover from chuckling as the footage cuts. “Man, talk about psycho!” Chris belts out.

“I like her.” Chef muses.

“Of course you do. She’s in! Who’s next?”

Noah Sitting at a desk in the middle of a quiet library is a young man with a medium-dark skin tone. Despite the camera being focused on his face he isn’t at all interested in it until he turns to the next page of the book he is currently trapped in. “Yo,” finally looking up from his book to reveal his bored frown gives the first glimpse of realization to the camera. “Look, you’re probably going to get a dozen audition tapes from ‘musically’ talented teens or dependent dorks who claim to be ‘intellectual prodigies’ so I’ll save you the time… Like you should save yourself from reading this cliche ridden novel.” Taking the book from its face down position, Noah flaunts it to the camera with an annoyed expression plastered to his face. “The cover lures you in with a depiction of an epic story. Heroes, dragons, castles… What do I see? A thousand and one cliches on how NOT to write a fantasy novel. I haven’t watched any of the audition tapes on your website, which is so 2010 might I add, yet I can already guess that ninety-nine percent of your auditions are from rich kids or dumb jocks far too in over their own heads. With Noah? Nuh-uh. I’m the real deal, an actual schemer not some wannabe used car salesman. Put me on your show and it’ll be a domino effect of backstabs with me always staying a step or two ahead. In the school chess team? Grand master. Yeah, you can see what I’m getting at.” Noah pushes the book he was reading off to the side before looking at the camera one more time with a confident smile. “See you on the show, big name Hollywood executives.” “Heheh, he’s right about the numerous trust fund kids we’ve gotten so far ain’t he Chris?” Noah seemed like just the type of kid that could use some of Chef’s… Bootcamp. A snobby little poindexter like that? Chef would accept him on grounds of breaking him alone! “I think the irony of his tape is what gets me the most. Going into intense detail about all the scheming little yuppie kids he hates without the self awareness is HILARIOUS! Reminds me of how much you hate that hotshot chef on that one cooking show. What was it called? Cooking Up Drama? That guy is a total Hollywood sleaze!” Chef raised an eyebrow to Chris. That sleazy chef reminded him more of Chris than himself. “But hey, I feel an odd connection to the kid. Consider him in the show! Who do we have next, Chef?” “Some girl who claims to be able to talk to ghosts or something! Oh, and another set of those damn BlixBloxxers!” “Kids, aren’t they the greatest?” Chris’ rhetorical question was only answered by a devilish grin towards the camera.

Justin

The camera pans to show one of the most handsome men in the world with a frown on his face. He’s crouched up on a rock, hair wet (it looks sexy even when wet) and all hope lost. What tragedy could’ve befell this gorgeous man?! “I’m Justin… And once I got lost at sea. Then… I remembered pretty men don’t need to read maps, they just need Dude Time for Men .” Justin sprays himself with the cologne, this parts away the clouds and sends the bad weather long off into the distance. In its place comes a herd of women, all of them eager to rip Justin’s shirt off to reveal his perfectly chiseled torso. “ Dude Time for Men is not responsible for any side effects that may occur such as constant attraction of females, an enhanced sense of confidence, a flock of women tearing your clothes off, or erectile dysfunction. If you experience testicle shrinkage please consult your doctor immediately and stop usage.” One of those commercial voices ended off the advert, Chef raised an eyebrow while Chris clapped his hands together. “Classic Dude Time for Men , I did a commercial for them a year or two back. My agent told me I should probably demand they never show my clip again though after that huge lawsuit they got in for those nasty side effects.” “Plus that smells nasty! Ain’t no real woman gonna want to smell some Dude Bro whatever the hell it is.” To Chef’s cynicism, Chris shook his head. “Just because you’re jealous of a product doesn’t mean you have to shame those of us who found success because of it, Chef.” “Man, didn’t you just get divorced a year ago?! Face it, Dude Time don’t work… But that kid's a looker, though, reminds me of my first– gig. I worked at a modelin’ place, pretty boys like that all over the damn place.” “So you’re saying you want him in? Meh, okay. He’ll get us ratings, he’s already a totally hot model. Just look at his gram! That’s a lot of followers bro.”

Katie and Sadie

A nauseatingly pink polka dotted room filled with childish plush toys and a big speaker is the backdrop of this next one. Two teenage girls, one chubby and white and the other brown and slim (both wearing the exact same outfit) are holding each other's hands while Glamorous by Fergie plays in the background.

“Oh my gosh, I cannot believe we’re doing this!” The larger one exclaims. “So cannot believe we’re doing this!” Her friend replies.

“Okay, um.. Hi!” A fit of giggles erupt from them both. “Oh, I can’t lead, Katie you have to!”

“Okay, okay.. I’m Katie, and this is Sadie. We both want to apply for Total Drama because I mean,”

“Just look at us! We’re cute and we both have our own Blickblock account, KatiexSadie=, AND-”

“And we’re sooo close! We’re inseparable, which is like, so rare for small town girls like us.” They hug each other, nuzzling one another’s cheeks.

“So, so rare! Ooh, Katie, let’s show them our dancing!”

“Oh, uh-” Katie’s grip on her friend loosens and she backs away.

Sadie turns up the volume incredibly loud, swinging her body to and fro wildly, flabby skin smacking against her body while she seductively glances at the camera. Katie blushes and gives a nervous smile.

“Ahaha.. Woohoo.. Go Sadie.” Her words are too quiet though.

“What?!” The camera falls from the vibrations of the music right onto the carpeted floor.

Katie picks it up and is joined by Sadie as they both shout, “Put us on!~” the clip cuts out.

Chris and Chef simply blink, then look at each other. “Blickblockers on my show? Chef, look up KatiexSadie+ultra whatever now!”

Chef glares. “I ain’t your personal assistant, fool.”

“Just do it, ya big baby.” He slaps him on his toned shoulder.

“Ugh,” Chef gets on the computer and looks up their username. “One hundred thous- well I’ll be..”

“One hundred WHAT NOW? What do their fans say?”

“Oh, they posted the audition. Let’s see..” Chef applies his reading glasses, scanning the comments. “‘Katie is so cute. Go Katie!’, by Pepefan24. ‘Katie needs an Onlyfans, sweat drop emoji.’ by Crimson Candy. ‘I want a Katie solo account (i love you Sadie too ooh woo.)’, by tearjerker.tdi.”

“Katie is the star, but they’re both annoying. Why not include ‘em both, for.. Brand recognition?”

“Mm, good idea.” Chef nods. “Next up: Tyler.”

Tyler

The video starts without a star in front of the camera, this quickly changes as we hear a boy curse as he sprints over to the front of it, just barely avoiding tripping over his own feet. “W-Woah! Sorry about that, I’m Tyler! A totally serious athlete who everyone says should be in the Olympics… Or was it the Paralympics? To tell you the truth I don’t really know the difference. Either way, check out this highlight reel from my time here at Bullworth Academy!” The camera fades from Tyler to a clip of him giving a thumbs up to the camera as he jumps up to catch a football thrown to him. In a horrible miscalculation the ball actually comes down and smacks Tyler square in the face! Another clip flashes by, this time Tyler gives another enthusiastic thumbs up as he goes to block a hockey puck via glove save. Yet another terrible stroke of luck causes the puck to go right past his hand and smack him dead in the face again! The final clip shows Tyler in a stairwell at what looks to be a hospital. His head is all bandaged up and he’s missing a tooth, even still he gives a thumbs up and hops on his skateboard. He jumps on it and tries to ride down the rail, this results in him being launched off the board and flying into a hamper of towels! Despite the stunt being a failure, he smiles at the camera just happy to not have taken another shot to the head. However this proves to be his undoing as the board comes back down right on top of his head, knocking him out one final time. “Yeouch! That had to hurt!” Chris chuckled as he rewinded the tape to play some of the brutal injuries over again. “Is that one of them Jack’s Ass boys?” Chef couldn’t lie, watching Tyler get hit over and over with various sporting goods was pretty entertaining. “Oh MAN look at that hit right there! Duuuuude!” It had been six rewinds before the two hosts finally stopped laughing, it was pretty obvious Tyler was in. “He’s absolutely terrible at sports but imagine the ratings we’ll get on him!” Chris explained.

Izzy

A black and white filter overlays the camera feed. A dark room, or as dark as you can piece together through the filter, is lit up by candles, emitting enough visual aid to showcase framed pictures of a blonde haired, fit surfer dude with a chiseled jawline and casual looks on his face. Several of these pictures show him smiling on the sidewalk, laughing inside of a restaurant, eating a messy sandwich, clocking in at the production studio for Fresh TV.. wearing a nametag that says the name Graham.

Suddenly, the camera spins backwards to reveal a filterless girl grinning ear to ear at the camera, orange, unkempt neck length hair and orange lipstick on her. “Boo! HAHAHAHA! Gotcha, Graham-Graham! Surprised to see me?” She appears to be wearing a lab coat with goggles on her forehead. “Yeaaah, I had no idea you were working at Fresh TV now, I’m so jealous! That means you’re kinda sorta barely famous, Graham! Isn’t that wild?? Remember when you used to talk about owning a mansion and three dogs named Skip with me? Or settling down at a nice graveyard with both of our gravestones next to each other?? Oh man, great times! You were an awesome boyfriend. In case you don’t see this, or remember, hey! I’m Izzy, and I’d be really good for the show Total Drama whutz it becauseeee I am multifaceted and very attentive! I swear I’ll leave your viewers laughing and my fellow castmates entertained! As for you, Graham?”

She finally takes a breath of air to jab a finger into the camera, zooming in on her green eyeball. “I missed you, baby~! Wait for me!”

Static fills up the last four seconds.

“..Batshit crazy, man.”

“Right on, brother. As if this show needs more insanity.” Chris grins, writing down her name anyways.

“Do.. Do we even know a Graham?”

“I think he’s a production assistant? I dunno, all of the lackey’s look the same.”

“True that. Soo..?”

“She’s in. I like her breed of insanity: dangerous, but quirky. Lesbians around the world will relate to her immensely.”

“I get the feeling she’s the type to enjoy my camp food.”

“No offense, bro, but I wouldn’t feed your cooking to a starving raccoon. I’d pay to see it.” His grin only becomes more cocky.

Chef growls, then stands up and yells. “Shut up! Next!” He sits back down cross armed for the next tape.

Cody

“Oh hey there, didn’t see ya. I’m Cody Emmet Jameson Anderson, the Codemeister is what all my friends online know me as.” This audition tape took place in the RGB colored room of who could only be identified as a tech-fetishist. Computers, consoles retro and new, even what seemed to be a fridge with a screen on it. “You may be caught up in all my cool gadgets, don’t let that fool ya! I’m like Batman, cool gadgets and machines at night… Playboy also at night. I’m missing the rich part, which is one reason why I want to be on Total Drama!” Was I interesting enough? Oh crap Cody think, think! “L-Look! I’ve got music too!” Cody fiddled around with his keyboard, finally finding the space bar as his beats started playing from his speakers. “I-I can actually play that! I was just editing it, oh! This is the good part!” Cody threw up the rock and roll symbol with his left hand as he jammed out to his solo, smiling up at the camera. “A man of many skills as you can see. Games, music, ladies… Did I mention my YouTube channel? Ohhhh it’s not too big or anything, just SEVEN HUNDRED subs. Heh, see this is my latest video, I talked about some chicks from Blickblock.” Cody’s channel was pulled up on his phone, the latest video sure enough was about Katie and Sadie. “Small world.” Chris remarked. Y’know, there was a total audience for guys like Cody! “Girls won’t be able to get enough of him and he’s just dorky enough for guys to find a liking to as well. I mean making fun of Blickblockers on the internet? He’ll have his own unique fanbase.” “Either that or he’ll stir up enough drama tryna be a cool guy. Hehe, what’s your decision Chris?” “Seen worse… Why not? If worse comes to worst, he does have seven hundred subscribers. That’s at LEAST fifty viewers.”

Beth

“Hey there! I’m Beff!” Spitting all over the camera was a gal with braces, glasses, and a lisp. “I’m here with my best friend in the whole wide world, Bertha! Say hi Bertha!” In her arms is a squealing pig, it doesn’t at all look happy to be held by the four-eyed teen. “W-Woah, don’t wiggle so much! I’ll-!” As the pig desperately wiggled out of Beth’s grasp, the momentum of a pig almost half her size caused her to land forward onto her face right into some mud! Beth defeatedly pulled herself up to her knees again, face covered in mud and tearfully clenched her fist.”I-I get it, I look like another pathetic nerd girl who can’t do anything right… Mark my words, if I get into your show? That’s all going to change! You’ll see, everyone from school will see, and doormat Beth will be NO more!” “Nerd rage, eh? What do you think, Chef?” Chris was a bit on the fence about Beth. She was another nerdy looking competitor, they already had a lot of those… “That girl got a look in her eye that none of those other kids had. A scary one.” A bullied student out for revenge? That’s one reason he became the way he did! Chef was a sensitive soul underneath all the war paint, military training, and awful culinary skills. “Revenge in a lawsuit kind of way or a ratings kind of way?” Chris questioned his co-host. “I doubt that girl could actually cause harm to anyone, prolly just a ratings thing. Probably .” “Alrighty then, Beth? You’re in!”

Courtney

In the center of a courtyard, a Latina-Asian girl with short chestnut hair and freckles is sitting in front of a camera, a table separating her from the camera man across from her. On the table are pamphlets that read, “Courtney for Student Council President”. Several students walk past her, scoffing or outright rolling their eyes at her from behind, all while she emphatically chants:

“Vote for Courtney! A vote for me is a vote for a well organized, better serviced and happier classroom. Vote for Courtney!” She glances at the camera before focusing her attention on it entirely.

“Oh, hello there! As you can see, I’m running for Student Council President. If I’m elected, I swear to make this school a better place. So, why do I, Courtney Barlow, wish to enter a drama reality TV show when it’s so obviously below me? Well, discounting the prize money, I think it’s best for any great leader to surround herself with commoners before she becomes a responsible ruler for the people. Essentially - I want to know what people are like outside of the bubble that is high school.”

“Hey, can we hurry this up? I gotta head to gym class.”

“In a minute, Tom! Ugh, you better edit that out.”

“Yeah, yeah, Court, I will.” Tom mumbles, sighing. She seems offended, mouth gaping.

“Don’t address me that way! Do you know how degrading nicknames are? How do you think most political campaigns end, Tom? Nicknames!” She claps her hands together thrice, scathing with gritted teeth and furrowed brows.

“Okay, okay, whatever, you crazy bitch, just finish up!” He yells back, probably for the first time ever. A few students freeze and look at the duo, then move on with their day.

Courtney glares daggers at the controller of the camera for a few seconds, then puts on a fake smile and flashes a peace sign. “Ahem.. Vote for Courtney!”

The recording ends with a subtitle:

Don’t vote for Courtney

Chris chuckles iconically. “Hehehe, damn.. Can we get Tom on the show? I mean, the back stabbiness, the character development unraveling as we watched in real time, the emotion necessary to freeze a room! Incredible!” He throws his arms into the air to exaggerate his point.

“Even A students watch TV, man. Need someone relatable for the preppy dorks of the world to latch onto.” Chef folds his arms, looking down at his partner with a stern, almost bored look.

“Is that Beth chick not enough? Fine. Courtney is in, if only so we can see more of her looney side. Next!”

Harold

This audition tape began with yet another dork smiling at the camera, he was in what looked like a boy scout outfit. “13.2 seconds, that’s the time it would take for me to kill an elephant with my bare hands. Not that I would, they’re endangered. But I could, that’s my hunting hand to hand combat badge. HYAH!” From out of nowhere two yo-yo’s entered the field of view for the camera! “I call this the double-decker-loop-to-loop-wild-style-space-typhoon technique, something taught only to grand masters at Rolling Steve’s yo-yo and- AUGH! OUCH!” One of the yo-yo’s hit Harold in the nose while the other wrapped around him in a way that took him to the floor! Luckily, or unluckily for him he was still visible! “I can get out of this, don’t worry. I have a badge in escape arts, I could probably get out of this if it was chains and I was submerged in water with sharks or something…” Harold was really hoping he could escape some sharks while drowning. That would be so awesome. After struggling for a moment Harold was actually able to get himself out pretty seamlessly. “As you can see I possess some mad skills no one else has. I can nibble rope like a rat, I can hold my breath under water for seventy three seconds, I can even pick locks with my teeth if I need to… Probably.” “Well that was a whole lotta nothing from that string bean. NEEEE-” “No, no, wait a minute! Chef…” Was that tears in Chris’ eyes?!

“Oh… What’s up man? Cecilia taking more money aga–” “NO CHEF, SHE IS NOT! Ahem , I used to use a yo-yo. Maybe you don’t know this, before settling on being a host I was in Toronto’s Next Yo-Yo Stars until… I tragically took one to the gonads. I-I had to make a career decision and focus on television!” Chris looked like he was about to tear up again, Chef knew all about giving up on a dream and settling. “It’s alright Chris, hey maybe we can take this kid then?” “I had to settle and here I am… Divorced and hanging out with a disgruntled drill sergeant turned Chef!” Chef’s empathetic expression quickly turned into one of annoyance as he let go of Chris. “And here I am hanging out with a divorced PAST HIS PRIME Cali-Dude Bro!” “Past his prime? Nonsense Chef! For Harold we’re in agreement he’s in, right?” That story about the yo-yo thing couldn’t be fact checked. Chris just figured another punching bag wouldn’t hurt the show too much. “Fine! String bean can be in the show! Can we just move on? And don’t tell any more LIES!” “My bad Chef! It was the actor inside of me.”

Trent

Next up was a young man sitting at his computer desk, he had a guitar in his hands and a microphone up to his mouth. “Hey there whoever is watching this, I’m Trent. Just your typical dude who loves playing guitar and writing music. Check this one out.” Trent began strumming his guitar humming in melody with the instrument until his eyes opened getting ready to sing. “I–”

“TRENT!” His door swung open as a man who looked as if he could be his father stepped in the room and gave him a disapproving glance. “I thought you were studying for your SATs? Why are you playing a pretend band again?” Trent rolled his eyes before turning to face the man. His previously composed posture had turned into a slouched mess.

“Dad, I’m just taking a quick break. Trying to get onto that show I mentioned earlier, remember?”

“Is that show you’re trying to get onto comparable to Yale? How about Harvard? Even Princeton?” His father argued rather matter of factly. “Maybe? There’s a cash prize for whoever wins. What if life isn’t so cut and paste as you make it seem?” Trent tried to argue his case but his pleas just got met with a door shut in his face. His dad was always like this, never once could he support his son without making it about what he wanted. He finally turned back to the camera with a sigh as he started strumming a new tune, this one a lot more somber than the last. “So you see… I really want to try and win that money so I can go to any school other than a posh law school. Maybe meet some like minded people, join a band… Meet a girl?” “Hey Chef, we have daddy issues yet?” “Is there ever enough?” “Nope, probably not! Plus he gives off that ‘not like the other guys’ vibe teenage girls just love.” Trent wouldn’t be that hard at all to market. His audition tape sells himself!

Bridgette

Ah, the beach. Typically, a calm and serene despot for young teenagers to run about, get high or catch a wave. Today however, we see a large crowd of people surrounding a blonde haired, hourglass shaped swimsuit toting girl as she places a beached baby whale on her surfboard, gently as if it were made of porcelain lying it down on its back. The camera shakes and thrashes as if its holder is running. It stops to zoom into the savior’s face as she carefully pushes her board out, getting on her knees to usher the whale back to the open water.

The crowd around her cheers while she swims back some thirty seconds later before dispersing back to their cliques to celebrate the saving of ocean life. The surfer chick looks surprised when she notices the camera is on her.

“What, we’re doing that now?”

“Bridge, chillax, girl. It’s been on! Just roll with it, okay?” A feminine voice with a heavy hippy accent says from behind the camera. The star rubs her bare arm, looking nervous.

“..Okay. Hi! I’m Bridgette. I’m sure you understand what I’m all about from.. All of that just now, so.. Let me explain my reasons for wanting to join.” Bridgette takes a deep breath, hands on her hips. “I know there will be plenty of people joining your show looking only for the pleasures of wealth, to satisfy their own selfish desires. But I think the cash you have, producers, could be put to real good use.”

She pauses, picking up her board to lean against it, making her appear smaller. “Foundations, charities, safer beaches, animal and people hospitals, commercials raising awareness for these very big issues, I think with one hundred thousand dollars I could very well save lives and make Canada one step safer than it was before. If I do lose, I promise to exit with my head held high and my spirit ready to make an improvement either way!”

“That was it! Wasn’t so bad, was it, babe?” The girl asks, a smile obvious in her voice.

Bridgette nods. “Thank you for your consideration.” She finishes with a cute smile as the screen fades to black.

Chef, bored again, waves his hand with mediocrity. “Eh, too goodie-goodie. Pass.”

“Woah, Chef, hold on: did she say commercials? Imagine how many lawsuits/morality wars we could avoid with the producers and viewers if we have a few scenes of Bridgette telling us off, or rescuing wounded pigeons. Boucot bucks saved and made, man!” Chef rolls his eyes at his partner's ludicrous saving habits.

“I’d still rather have the guy with all the sexy weapons.”

“No way, dude’s a creep and not in a funny way. Pretty sure our contestants would sue us, and they can’t even do that without probable cause we didn’t list in the contract.”

“You mean creepy in your way?” Chef grins. Chris is not amused.

“I am not creepy. I am sexy. Anyways, she’s in for the commercials we could make alone and that’s final.”

“Whatever, man. Next.”

Lindsay

A long haired blonde girl wearing tight, purposely ripped jeans that hugged her figure like a bear on a cub and a red tank top without a bra spoke through gloss covered lips, smacking every word that came out of her mouth as her cliché bulgy eyed chihuahua stared at the camera from under her breasts.

“Hi, my name’s Lindsay! The audition sheet says to list my best qualities, but I have so many.” She flutters her butterfly lashes, smiling adorably. She let’s go of her dog, who immediately sprints away upon being freed. She leans forward in criss cross position, showing off her cleavage. “I’m pretty, and smart and I get along with everyone, even ugly girls and dorky boys.” She nods with her eyes closed as if she’s somehow all knowing.

“Somehow, I was able to get offered twelve summer jobs just by walking down the street a mile from my house, but who has time to work all summer? If I’m gonna get money, I wanna do it by being me! Not Tina from behind the counter who has to watch other girls buy pretty clothes, although I’d totally love to help ugly girls get makeovers, or help pretty girls be prettier! If you couldn’t tell, I’m what my ex boyfriend calls a bimbo; really nice.” She rambles almost as long as her hips are wide.

“Oh, did I mention? For the American version, I’m bilangual: I speak fluent Canadian and American.” Her beautiful teeth shimmer as she smiles earnestly. Chris and Chef are floored.

“You know, I’m real happy there are no cameras in the room, otherwise uncle Chris might find himself on Twitter’s hitlist for saying this.”

“Saying what?” Chef cautiously asked.

“Man oh man I cannot wait to stare at that girl in 4k HD surround sound 1080p glory.” Sweat and drool coated Chris’s face as he spoke. Chef looked disturbed.

The audition opens with a stationary camera aiming at a tall Jamaican man with brick built arms and a picture of a middle aged black woman who looked a lot like him on display beside his bed. The setting was clearly his room, but the giant wasn’t just talking to his camera; he began to jump and flutter in the air, holding a pink ribbon as he paraded himself about his room wearing a white uniform for ribbon dancing. He finished his act with a split, never breaking eye contact or a smile away from the camera. Afterwards, the footage cut to him sitting on his bed.

“Yo! My name’s Devon Joseph, or DJ! I think I’d be a perfect fit for Total Drama, cause I’m kind, and strong, and sensitive, and most of all, I was raised right.” DJ lifts up the picture of his stern but proud mother folding her arms and points at it. “Thanks, mom! Without you, none of this would be possible.” He lets his smile fade.

“My Momma ain’t gonna be able to provide for herself forever. That’s why, if I win Total Drama, I’m gonna get her the best housing I can get her, make sure she never has to work again. I’d also love to join to diversify my skills and make more buddies! Thanks for your consideration.” He finishes it all off with a wholesome smile and wave.

Chef seems emotional. Chris is laughing almost gut bustling at the kid’s impassioned speech, but Chef is weeping. “W-woah, C-Chef, buddy it is not that funny.”

The brolic cook grabs Chris by the shirt violently. “It’s not funny at all! Kids got heart, man. Don’t you have a momma? HUH?”

The host looks away, no longer smiling. “Well.. I mean, yeah-”

“Well, do you?!” He shakes Chris.

“Yes! Yes, I do, okay? Why?”

“Ain’t it exactly like us starting out?” Chef whispers, sniffling.

“I dunno what you mean.” “I started in showbiz to provide for my momma, to make it big, to prove to her that I was more than a cook! I am a professional, and she raised me right! Do you understand?!” Chef wheezes, barely holding back tears. Now Chris is crying too.

“Yes, Chef! I understand!” The odd pair begin weeping into each other's shirts, bawling their eyes out as the next audition plays.

Geoff

“What more do you need brah? Party central here. Beaches, babes, and some gnarly burgers being cooked up by my buddy Brody. Lifes a party and I’m always hostin’ dudes.” Geoff put his cowboy hat over his eyes and soon got hidden behind another surfer. “Geoff bro, Johnny got us hooked up with the other B!” “Brody! The other B…?” “Some beer bro! His cousin Tony was up working at the shop and he swung in!” “Oh heck yeah dude! Let’s go and do a buttchug or wait…” The two surfer dudes pointed at each other and nodded. “SHOTGUNNNNNN!” The two dude bros clapped a high five as they ran off to go find their fellow surfers. At this point Chris and Chef had to do some fast forwarding, Geoff had left the camera rolling for what felt like an eternity. Eventually the surfer wandered back to the beach chair and plopped down as if he didn’t leave the camera on for nearly an hour. “Yup, average life of a party horse. Stressful? Not at all my dudes. Times like these are what we live for.” As his cowboy hat covered his eyes a final time, Geoff was finally asleep… But once again forgot to turn off the camera. “He knew he was still talking to the camera and yet he still didn’t turn it off?” Geoff screamed frat boy city to Chef. That wasn’t a one hundred percent negative thing though, Chef used to hangout with a party monster named Party Pete. He’d always wondered what happened to ol’ Pete, everyone figured he’d just partied too hard.

“Correct. Chef, I know you’re not invited to too many parties and the ones you are invited to you usually aren’t the life of. Please note there are some unspoken rules of partying. Rule one? Nothing but the party matters. Geoff lives to party! You can’t hate the guy.” Chef wanted to hit Chris with a sassy remark back but.. Yeah, he couldn’t hate Geoff. The guy seemed actually cool, unlike an actual fraternity “party animal”. He was in.

LeShawna

“Yo, yo, queen LeShawna coming to y’all ready for anything. Loud n’ proud, large and in charge, anything your TDI crew can throw at me, I can handle.” LeShawna then began to bust a move or two shaking her arms, head, and her… You can guess what else. “Let me promise y'all this too, there ain’t no party like a LeShawna victory party. Figuring I’ll be the one throwing it at the end and all if you pick me consider yourselves invited.” Continuing her spa-dancing she bumped towards the camera doing a call me sign and cutting the tape short. “Short, sweet, and to the point. What do you think, Chef?” “I think it’s prolly the opposite of her. A sister like that? Haha big, mean, and crazy, don’t let that party nonsense fool you. Woo-weeee.” “He said it, not me. Easy to misinterpret quotes aside, is she fit for the show?” “Her? Heh, she might be one tough nut to crack but that’ll just make it all the more fun when she does.”

Duncan

The visual quality of this one is grainy and barely comprehensible. The audio is very clear, thankfully. It almost looks like security camera footage. And, made out by the grainy footage, is a green mowhawked teenager scaling a large building while the full moon provides mood lighting. Obviously, a criminal.

He’s scaling the building downward with a rope, cocky grin glued to his face as he glances between the ground below and the camera.

“Hey, Duncan here! Though I’m sure you know me considering I’m somewhat of a local celebrity around these parts.” He remarks with gusto.

“Yeah, photographers are taking my picture all the time. It’s because of my charm and good looks, which is also why I banged half of Davis High. That and because I live in a big house with tons of security cameras, guards and guard dogs to watch over me. Not to mention: no parents!”

“My best quality? Let’s just say, I’m stealthy, a real thinker. Tough, too. Yup, the whole cake package.”

He hops down, finally free from the wall. The rope drops and an alarm blares. A spotlight highlights him and the sound of ravenous guard dogs catches his attention. He breaks character for a second, eyes widening as he realizes what he has to do. He starts running, still looking into the camera. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat but I really gotta run. My parole officer will be in touch!”

The recording ends with static and muffled yelling. Chris and Chef nod at each other, raising their brows with interest.

“A convict? Very cool!” Chris exclaims, writing his name down.

“Finally, someone I can relate to.” Chef says, arms behind his head.

His co-host places a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t push it, man. You’re way better than some bratty delinquent.”

He smiles. “Thanks, man.”

Chris smiles back. “You’re welcome. Next!”

Heather

We hear the sound of a shower turning off and see a hand reaching for a towel sitting on the shower curtain. Walking into frame for the first time was Heather, she was easily identifiable by her sly ‘better than you’ grin. “Will I be nervous if I get picked to be on the show? As if. I’m incredibly comfortable being on television, it wouldn’t be my first rodeo you know.” Heather reached for another towel to put over her hair, rolling her eyes at just the thought of even being embarrassed on tv. “What would I have to be ashamed of? I’m PRETTY. While I’m sure the standards won’t be anything to brag about being higher than, I’m going to be a 12 entering an average of 4. If you get me on the show I’ll sell it myself if I have to.” She waved bye to the camera and walked off screen, the last thing seen in this tape is two towels being thrown in front of the camera signifying that Heather was a bare naked lady for just a mere moment. “Well Chef, I think I’ve seen all I need to see here. Ratings? Check.” “Yeah, RATINGS huh? Face it Chris, you got a thing for trust fund white girls!” “Actually, Chef it says here that she’s ASIAN. So maybe take your racial assumptions back to 1970?” Chef raised his brow in annoyance towards Chris’ antics. Damn fool was going to make him sound like some good old boy from down south!

Gwen

Sitting cross armed in a computer chair is a goth girl in midnight blue who looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here. “Soooo… Am I supposed to sit here and do a talent or something? Why? So my tape can be shown off to the world and I can get laughed at? Not a chance I’d humiliate myself before I even get onto the show.” She rolled her eyes thinking about all the times she saw other people’s audition tapes make it onto the internet and they became laughing stocks for the world. She’d never leave herself vulnerable like that! “I’m Gwen. That’s all you trolls really need to know. I live with my mom and brother after my dear dad decided to leave us in the dirt for some floozy in Vermont. Yeah, Vermont , how desperate and deprived do you have to be?!” Just talking about her situation infuriated her. Was it too hard to just keep it in your pants?! “So look… I want to be on the show so I can try and win the prize money. If I ever want to go to college and help support my family I’m going to make more money than eight dollars an hour working my butt off in a kitchen.” Gwen wasn’t really sure how to sell herself without just trying to get pity from whoever was watching this. She wasn’t super talented or popular, she was just a down on her luck girl trying to provide for her family and future. “If you want someone there looking to win and not make friends, I’m your girl. If not… Whatever I guess.” That’s the last we see of the goth girl as the camera fades to black, leaving Chris and Chef to decide her fate. “Sounds like girl’s got it rough. First person I’ve seen other than DJ a while back who wants to spend the money on family.” “And you know what Chef? What’s more important than family? Sitting here with you, going through all these auditions… I think WE’RE family Chef. You get me, I get you. Same wavelength.” Tears started welling up in Chef’s eyes, did Chris really mean that? “Maybe I judged you too harshly, McLean. You ain’t a corporate puppet… You’re my BROTHER!” Chef leaned in and gave Chris a hug, embracing his co-host as if he truly was his own brother.

“And you know what Chef? Family really sells!” The hug immediately ended and Chef pulled away disgusted. “Forget everything I just said, you ain’t my brother!” “What?! Don’t be jealous dude, I’ve got to think about the family business first ‘bro’!” “Don’t call me bro McLean! Just get on with the next tape!” Chef was beyond offended! Just when he thought maybe he’d touched Chris’ icy heart.

Owen

A choir of church boys and girls are seen singing on a particular busy night. The camera recording all of this is clearly a smart phone propped up awkwardly where it won’t be seen, particularly zoomed in on a large blonde kid. The choir, including him, sing Hallelujah, with the blonde looking more and more red, anxious and suspicious by the second. At the finale of the song, when the kid slowly draws out the “Halleluuuujah..”, applaus erupts and the choir bows. The fat boy tries to, but ends up hitting himself on his stomach instead. He then runs towards his phone, picks it up and speed walks into what looks like a lounge.

The camera is positioned under his swollen chin until he places it against the counter wall, showing himself off as he opens the fridge and eats as much as he can, from donuts to fruits to an entire pie. Between bites he speaks.

“Hi.. I’m Owen! And I’m so psyched to be joining TD! Woohoo.” He whisper-yells the woohoo, continuing to eat as someone knocks on the door to the lounge.

“Owen, sweetie, you were amazing! Can we see you?” A sweet voice beckons.

“In a second, mom, hehe!” He smiles forcefully, though his chuckle is very cute, almost mascot worthy. “What? I eat when I’m stressed.. I wanna be on TD to party, but most importantly to find new, less judgemental people to be friends with. Don’t get me wrong, I adore my folks here at home, but they’re really not always so open to new concepts, if you get my meaning. Anyways, my best qualities are my iron stomach and endless sense of humor! I promise we’ll have a blast, bro’s! Catch you later!” He downs an entire peach cobbler, covering himself in crumbs, jam, chocolate and sugar.

“Owen? Who are you talking to?” A mature voice demands.

Owen bites his lip, leaving his phone to answer the door. “Sorry, dad, here I come!” The door opens and the choir, as well as their families collectively gasp. “...What?”

“You know, the final piece of this puzzle is a mascot. This kid’s got likability, the cute factor and he seems two dimensional at least.”

“He better appreciate my damn food…” Chef snarls.

“A starving raccoon couldn’t appreciate your damn food, Chef. It’s alright, man.” Chris offers a hand to Chef’s shoulder. He slaps it, paining him greatly before digging a kitchen knife out of his pocket and brandishing it.

“I’ll kill you, Mclean!”

Chris stands up as Chef bolts forward to chase him around their office. “H-hey, wait! Producers! Chef is fighting me again!” Chris knocks on the door desperately. “O-oh, and we got our cast! So get those signed copies of signatures and contracts ready!”

“You ain’t gonna have a head to host with, you bastard!”

“You wouldn’t dare touch a hair on my head- Chef, no!”

Oh, Mclean will have a head to host with. Stay tuned: Total Drama Island premieres soon.

#total drama #fanfiction #rewrite

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mth-ppg-trashcan · 4 years ago

Text

Greens Gas Station AU Part 2

Butch preferred the city at night. It was much more peaceful. Walking through the empty streets relaxed him. It was usually the only time he got to be totally alone and recharge.

He’d been up watching movies when his stomach growled. That was his nightly alarm that told him it was time to go get a snack. It was a little over a mile walk from his apartment to his favorite gas station. Well, the gas station wasn’t that great. There were closer ones with better inventory, but this was the only one with a cute girl working the graveyard shift. All the other ones had strung out looking dudes that creeped Butch out.

Although, he probably had no place calling other people creepy looking. He was the guy wandering the dark city streets in crocs and plush pajama pants. If anyone looked like a weirdo you should cross the street to avoid, it was Butch.

The gas station was just across the street from him now. The store was nestled on the corner between two streets that were typically busy during the daytime. Butch was a natural born rebel, so he crossed the street without waiting for the walk sign to turn on. It didn’t matter that there were no cars around right now. He was technically still jaywalking.

The only car in the lot was an old, beat up one sitting at one of the gas pumps. It was empty with no one around it, so the owner must be inside the store. Butch didn’t pay it much mind. He was too excited about seeing the cute cashier.

He smoothed his hand through his hair as he pushed open the door. A bell dinged to announce his awesome arrival. He looked to the cashier to flash her his most charming smile.

Except she barely glanced at him. She was occupied by some old looking dude at the counter. Butch’s bottom lip stuck out in a pout. He made his way into the candy aisle. Screw that guy for stealing Butch’s thunder.

As he debated whether he was in the mood for something fruity or chocolatey, he heard the cashier force out an overly cheery “If that’s everything, have a nice night.”

Butch couldn’t help the small chuckle he breathed out. It was so obvious how much she hated her job. Customer service clearly didn’t come naturally to her. Butch felt a little bad for all the times he purposely pushed her buttons, but he found her grumpy demeanor adorable. Besides, it’s not like he did anything harmful, just annoying.

Butch heard the guy reply back to her, “Can I get your number with it?” Gag. Seriously dude? Butch has grown out of those lame ass lines in his teenage years.

Cashier girl grit out a reply, “No, sir. Have a good night.”

Butch picked up a chocolate bar to inspect it. Part of him wanted the sweet velvety richness of it, but the sour gummy worms were really calling to him. Maybe he deserved both? But you didn’t get a hot bod like Butch by eating endless amounts of candy.

“Hey, don’t be so stuck up,” the guy growled back.

Butch peaked over at cashier girl. She looked ready to punch the guy, which would be hilarious to watch. He tossed the candy bar back and forth between his hands. Butch wasn’t really a knight in shining armor type of guy, and cashier girl didn’t strike him as someone who needed saving. If she punched the guy, she’d probably lose her job, and Butch wouldn’t get to see her anymore.

He walked up to the counter. “Hey, I can’t find the Abba-Zabas. Will you show me where they are?” Butch asked her.

The girl turned her glare away from the other guy to look at Butch. “Sure,” she huffed out.

Butch has purposely placed himself between the guy and the entrance to the counter. He turned his body to act as a wall between the guy and the cashier when she slipped out. The guy let out a protest, but Butch crossed his arms and gave him a glare. They were about the same height, but Butch had several pounds of muscle on his greasy ass. The dude got the hint and left the store.

Butch shoved his hands in his pockets and followed after the girl. She was already in the aisle, holding out the peanut butter and taffy candy bar towards him. “I didn’t need any help.”

He shrugged. “I know. You seem plenty capable of kicking that guy’s ass.”

He took the candy bar from her. She brushed passed him to get back to the counter. Butch grabbed the sour gummy worms too before heading after her to pay.

He set the candy on the counter and she started scanning it. “Good, I’m glad you know that,” she said. If Butch wasn’t mistaken, there was a crinkle of a smile hidden in the corner of her eyes. “Is this everything for you?”

Butch leaned on the counter and did his best impression of the asshole, “Can I get your name, sweet thang?”

She glared at him.

Butch laughed and stood up straight again. “Too soon?”

“It will always be too soon.”

She told him his total and Butch gave her a ten dollar bill. As she handed Butch his change, she spoke again. “Buttercup,” she said.

He blinked at her, “Huh?”

She had really pretty green eyes. “My name is Buttercup.”

Butch walked back to his apartment in a daze that night.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)

#this is my psa that abba-zabas are delicious #ppg #powerpuff girls #gas station au #greens #buttercup #butch #my writing

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fallout-fuckery · 4 years ago

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who are your favorite characters/companions from fallout? who are your least favorite? favorite and least favorite factions? why?

(I apologize for my lack of judgement and knowledge on Fallout 3 and Fallout NV. I haven't done more than the basic playthrough and therefore dont have much know how on some of the finer things.)

Fallout 4:

[Favorite character] Its a fight between Danse and Gage. Danse is just fuckin adorable in my opinion, especially after Blind Betrayal, so that wins him a spot on the 'favorite character lineup'. Gage is just an emotionally stunted greasy raider with an accent, and that gives him all the points he needs to fall into the lineup as well. If someone had to fall into third place, it would probably be Maxson. Particularly cause he was so squishy and adorable in Fallout 3 and then got hit so hard by The Puberty Truck it gave the entire Brotherhood whiplash.

[Least favorite character] Mags just rubs me in the wrong way. Marcy also just made me wanna strangle her and toss her to the dogs. Sierra Petrovita gets on my nerves, too. Didnt like her in Fallout 3, dont like her in 4.

[Favorite faction] On terms of morality, the Railroad. They had the best moral compass(aside from the fuckin Minutemen, but we dont talk about them with all the fuckin claim a settlement and now those fools are your responsibility bs) and Deacon is hands down the funniest companion in my opinion. On terms of who I side with more often, the BoS. No real reason. The BoS was just the faction I stuck with on my first playthrough.

[Least favorite faction] (The fuckin Minutemen) The Institute. I stuck through it until the rooftop scene with Shaun and was like "just who tf do you think you are" and hightailed it back to the Brotherhood. I dont quite like the Brotherhood's morality, but meh. They give me cool power armour and some asses to stare at, so I'll let them live.

Fallout 3:

[Favorite character] Butch. He was such a little shit and I loved him for it. Second place is Jericho, hands down. I may or may not have a thing for greasy raiders. Mini Maxson falls into third place cause he was adorable. His little terminal entries were the best and I just cant see it with how he acts in Fallout 4.

[Least favorite character] The damn Overseer of Vault 101 was a prick. Other than him, I couldnt stand Moriarty. Like.. how dare you treat sweet Gob like that. Sierra Petrovita falls on the least favorite character list yet again.

[Favorite faction] BoS. I really haven't explored Fallout 3 as much as I have 4, so my Brotherhood bias strikes again. I do like the nodes to the Institute and the Railroad though.

[Least favorite faction] The fuckin Enclave had me foaming at the mouth my entire playthrough. Like.. how.. d a r e they. I also absolutely despise the Enclave cause their dudes killed Butch and Dogmeat so many times. I had a field day with all the reloading saves.

Fallout: New Vegas:

[Favorite character] Ring- a- ding ding, baby! You guessed it! Its Benny! He was such a little shit and I'm still salty that they didnt make him a companion like they intended. Boone is also a favorite. He was the companion that saved my sorry ass more times than I can count.

[Least favorite character] I haven't played very much of New Vegas, so i dont really have much of an output on characters I hate or dislike. I'll get back to this after I go through the game again.

[Favorite faction] NCR. Mainly cause of Boone. Other than that, no real reason.

[Least favorite faction] Legion. My deadass reason for hating the Legion is cause they made me kill Benny. I let him live for a reason! Leave the dumb one alone!

#fallout 4 #fallout new vegas #fallout 3 #gage #danse #porter gage #paladin danse #benny #boone #maxson #elder maxson

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palettepainter · 4 years ago

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18 for any of your Hell High teachers.

18, Things they’ll never admit

Hijinx - Hijinx’s power relates to her being able to go long periods of time without eating, and also being able to eat anything even if it’s not edible. With her dying from starvation this is an affect of how she died passed on into her demon form. Hijinx claims to have refined tastes, she likes to experiment with different foods and forces the other teachers to try it with her. Honestly cooking is one of the few things Hijinx will be genuinely enthusiastic about. As said, she claims to have refined tastes, cooking her food herself and rarely ordering take away - if she ever eats out she does it in style....But on one particular day where she’d gone a longer period of time then usual for her demon form without food she was pretty ravenous, she ended up gnawing away as a chair for half an hour before she ventured outside to find some actual food. What she ended up doing was dumpster diving and eating a half eaten burger from the schools cafeteria, she’ll never admit that it actually wasn’t that bad and maybe from time to time will order to the one or two greasy burgers (and maybe go dumpster diving once a month-)

Link - So Link is the skittish one of the group no confusion there, and despite not teaching any kids directly (he works as a receptionist to the school) Link still prefers to keep his distance from them, knowing teenagers are evil. More or less he’s the voice of reason among the staff whenever someone suggests something dangerous. Link rarely indulges himself in violence...rarely. Link is still a demon, and in life though regretful of what he did, still helped bad people to do bad things. Link tries to keep his anger in line but he can only take so much. He keeps a baseball bat in his room which he says is for self defense, which is true! But he also uses it to beat up stuff in the schools junk heap. If anyone ever knew about this he’d be very embarrassed because though it does help him feel better, a small part of him still thinks it’s bad. In reality none of the teachers would care, they’re in hell afterall, if anything Butch will probably offer Link to use his training equipment to save him going out in private to let his anger out

Butch - He won’t admit this because he gets embarressed, but he actually has mad respect for drag queens/lgbt members. Butch himself is not very open with his own personal likes and sexuality, it wasn’t something he felt like he could talk about when he was alive, so he kept his mouth shut. He puts up a front of being cold hearted, grumpy and uncaring, but honestly he views drag queens/lgbt demons in hell as some of the strongest people out there. It’s a foreign idea to him to be so open about something so personal, showing off a part of yourself that contributes so much to who you are as a person. He has deep respect for anyone willing to put themselves out there like that. He’s met a few kids in his time teaching who have struggled with this kind of sutff, and get one thing straight - Butch will defend a student. He may not look like one to care, but he does, and he WILL step in and swoop a kind under his protective wing. He’s done this with Francis (Alastor x Mimzy NG), who Butches suspects is anxious over similar stuff but he doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t want Francis to get upset so he keeps quite and wait to see if Francis will come to him to talk about it. Until then Butch keeps an eye on the kid to make sure no one’s pushing him around

Vivid - Honestly couldn’t think of anything for Vivid since he’s a very confident and open person, don’t think he’d have anything he’d want to keep fully secret

Aquarius - He was once dared by the other teachers to try eating fish food as a joke, to which he did, all while holding eye contact. Being a siren Aquarius can eat fish food and does prey on small fish and he likes to go fishing from time to time. He does fishing by himself and often uses a fishing rod, but sometimes he will go in for a swim, indulge in his siren urges and just grab a fish straight from the water with his mouth. He tells himself it’s all for scientific purposes, but nah Aquarius just likes to be a proper siren from time to time. He keeps it secret as he views himself as a gentleman who would never give into his more natural siren instincts, very un-proper of him to just eat a fish raw.

Kitsune - He’s probably a bit of a masochist, I don’t wanna dive into this too much as idk if Tumblr will like it if I do soo I’ll leave it at that

Puppet - He’s become a fan of tailoring and watches tailoring shows in secret. Being a puppet there have been times where he’s gotten caught on something and he’s gotten ripped, so he’s had to learn stitching and sewing incase this ever happens. He finds it therapeutic and keeps some pieces of felt and thread in his chestbox where he lives to help him unwind after a stressful day. He’s also impressed at people who can make full blown outfits and fancy dresses, a teenie tiny part of him kinda wants to try making one

Think that’s all of them? Tell me if I missed any!

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got2ghost-archive · 5 years ago

Text

Title: Love Somebody Today

Pairing: Magnus Burnsides/Taako (The Adventure Zone)

Summary: magnus is a lonely, widowed butch lesbian who keeps building furniture for her new neighbor. taako is a lonely femme lesbian who cooks for her in exchange.

Tags: Strangers to Lovers, Modern AU, apartment neighbors, falling in love, squirting, cunnilingus, fluff and smut, lesbian sex

Word count: 5538

written for the ‘modern au’ prompt for @taagnusweek

Magnus yawns as she comes up the creaky apartment steps to the second landing. It’s been raining outside and she had forgotten her umbrella this morning, so she’s soaked through. At least she’d managed to save her fast food under her jacket. She’s looking forward to kicking off her work boots, taking off her bra, and taking that first bite of greasy, bacon-y burger.

There’s someone struggling with a big box up the stairs and Magnus waits patiently, since there isn’t enough room to duck around. The stranger lets out a grunt of frustration, her skinny arms trembling a little as she takes a few careful steps.

Magnus crinkles her bag of food and the girl turns her head sharply, glaring a little in apprehension — like she’s moments away from telling someone to fuck off. She’s beautiful: golden skin, messy, long blonde hair spilling out of a braid, sharp cheeks and pouty lips, a funny little nose that Magnus thinks enhances the rest of her features. She looks like a model maybe, or someone who could be on TV who Magnus could stare at forever. She realizes, a little too late, that she’s, like, staring too hard in person.

“Hello there! Take your time. Or — do you want help with that?” she chirps, taking the few steps forward, hand outstretched. The stranger looks at the box in her arms and then back at Magnus.

“Honestly, I’m not too proud to ask for help. I’ve been lugging these up all day, so sure, go for it,” she says, glare softening into a tired smile.

“Sure thing! Not a problem! I’m Magnus — but my friends call me Maggie. What apartment are you in?” She tucks the baggie under her armpit and grabs the box from her, lifting it to her chest. It doesn’t weigh too much at all. The stranger lets out an unintentional sigh of relief.

“Taako. And thanks. I’m in 309.”

“Oh, sweet. I’m just down the hall from you. Everyone on this floor is really nice, but don’t be surprised if you see this old guy, Merle, walking around without his shirt on.”

“Hot-old, or old-old?” Taako asks with a grin.

“Old-old. Is that, like, ageist? Mostly he’s just gross and inappropriate sometimes. But he has like, three boyfriends, so maybe he’s doing something right.”

Taako ducks in front of Magnus to get her door unlocked, pushing it wide open with her foot. Magnus sets down the box and takes a look at her surroundings. The layout is opposite to Mag’s and she’s got a better view with more windows since it’s a corner apartment. There are boxes stacked everywhere, and even with the light on, it’s dimly lit. Mag turns back to Taako, who looks exhausted. She watches her dig through one of the boxes in the kitchen, popping back up with a cup in hand. She sticks it under the sink and turns on the faucet, then gulps down the whole glass. Her crop top rides up further to reveal a long, attractive stretch of torso. Magnus looks away, cheeks pink. She hasn’t felt her heart pound like this in a long time.

“Do you, uh, need anything else?”

“I’m good, I think. Taako doesn’t wanna put you out or anything. I can smell that burger of yours from here. I’ll probably just order delivery and sleep on the floor,” she says, wiping her mouth delicately with the back of her hand.

“I can just build your bed frame for you? If you want. It’ll take me like, two seconds. I’m a carpenter, so this is my wheelhouse.”

Taako takes a moment to think, her lips twisted to the side. Eventually she shrugs, crossing her arms. “For sure, go for it, Maggie.”

Magnus beams and sets her food down. The bed frame is shoved in a corner alongside the mattress. She gets on her knees, rips the box open haphazardly and pulls out the frames. It’s simple enough; she lays it all out first, then gets the little screws and her letterman ready.

“Where are you from?” Taako asks as Mag gets to work.

“Raven’s Roost. What about you?”

“Oh, that’s pretty far from here. I grew up here, but left to do some traveling. I just moved back because my work and my sister are here.”

“Oh, that’s nice! Where is she?”

“She’s with her hubby ten minutes from here. What about you? Single life or what’s the dealio?” Magnus pauses and glances at Taako over her shoulder where she’s leaned up against the counter, checking her nails casually. Magnus doesn’t usually do this — hasn’t done this in a long time. Is this what she thinks it is? Or maybe she’s just reading into it. If Julia was here, she’d laugh at her.

“Uh, yeah. On my own,” she says, voice going soft, her mind lingering on Julia the way it always does when she thinks about her. Magnus finishes the bed frame; makes quick work of it, like she promised. She even stands up and starts to unwrap the bed, which is probably overkill, but she isn’t one to half-ass things.

“Where do you want it?”

“Jeez, that was fast. Bedroom is through there, though it’s mostly boxes in there right now. So here is good. I owe you big time!” she says, flashing a brilliant smile, her very adorable gap-tooth showing.

Magnus nods and finishes pulling all the plastic off of the bed and sets it down on the frame, straightening it out. “Nah, you don’t owe me anything. I’m happy to help out anytime. Just knock on 302, and if I’m home, I’ll be right over.”

Magnus dusts off her hands and swings back to the counter, snatching up her burger. She taps her fingers on the counter, even though she can and should leave now. When has she gotten all attention-hungry?

“You this good to old man Merle, too?” Taako says, her smile melting into a smirk that makes Magnus’ belly simmer with heat. She watches Taako’s hips jut out to the side, enticing in their narrow sharpness. She wants to dig her thumb there and leave a mark.

“No. He always forgets to take his clothes out of the dryer so it gets all moldy. Fuck that guy,” she says with a grin.

“So just me? I get special treatment?” she says, coming close enough that Mag can feel the heat of her body.

“Maybe. If you’re a good neighbor,” she says, her stomach lurching and her face getting hot simultaneously. Was that okay? Was that too much?

Taako barks out a laugh, musical and a little shrill for someone so incredibly beautiful. “For sure. I’ll let you borrow my sugar anytime, darling,” she says with a wink. Her stance changes and she smiles at Mag again, blinking a little sleepily. “I’d love to keep flirting, but I’m deffo gonna pass out the minute you walk out this door, and it’s not gonna be pretty.”

Oh. “Oh,” Mag says, dumbly. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll get out of your hair. Have a good night,” she says, fumbling with the door handle.

“Here, I’ll get it,” Taako says, squeezing Magnus’ hand once before gently moving it off the knob. She twists it once and pulls it open with a flourish towards the entryway with a curtsy. “Night, Maggie baby, thanks for your help.”

“Yeah sure — anytime,” she shuffles out, glancing over her shoulder one more time. Taako wiggles her fingers in goodbye, biting her bottom lip.

“Goodnight.” The door closes.

Mag exhales slowly.

Shit.

She makes her way back to her apartment, cold burger in hand. She gets into hey apartment, locks it, and stares out for a while into the emptiness of her space. There’s her comfy couch and Julia’s rocking chair; the little workshop stand she’d set in the corner where a TV should be, because she can’t ever stop working. Mag kicks off her shoes, almost leaving them where they’re knocked over until she hears Julia’s voice in her head to clean up.

Maggie, if you drag dirt in here one more time, I’ll divorce you!

Magnus sets the boots on the shoe stand, tosses the bag of food and her keys on the counter, and goes to take a leak and wash her hands. She stares at herself in the mirror. Her hair’s getting a little too long and fluffy at the top, but her sides are still okay. She touches her sideburns. She should get a haircut. And maybe a dog, too, while she’s at it. It’s too lonely here. Being flirted with for the first time in a year, just makes it more obvious how lonely the apartment is.

“Jules, she was really hot. You’d think she was really hot and joke about a threesome, but you know me. I couldn’t look at anyone but you. But she was hot. And that was… sort of nice,” Mag says, her brown eyes reflecting back.

She sighs one more time and takes off her flannel and her shirt and her sports bra, sighing in relief at her sore tits being free.

Mag eats her cold burger and fries and goes to bed. _

A few nights later, there’s a staccato knock on the door that startles Magnus out of her thoughts. She was spacing out, microwaving a frozen dinner.

“Coming!” she says, heart still pounding.

The door swings open to a pink-faced Taako. She’s in slippers and a strapless, sparkly cocktail dress, and she’s giggling.

“Hi there. Are you drunk?” Mag says with a small, amused laugh.

“Hey! Yes, wine drunk, if you wanted to know the specifics. I wanted to ask if you wanted to come over for dinner? Because I’m finally kind of moved in and I was able to cook! One’s the loneliest number and all that.”

“Uhh,” Magnus glances back at the sad frozen dinner that’s still humming in the microwave. She turns back. “Sure, if I can come dressed like this?” she gestures to her work flannel-tank top combo.

“What? Of course you can, mi amiga!”

“Oh, it’s just, you’re so dressed up, I feel like I should too?”

“Oh, this old thing?” Taako says with a grin, her eyebrows waggling. “No, but for realsies come as you are. This is an old NYE dress. I was sorting through clothes to donate and thought I’d relive the moment. Come on over!” she says, deciding for her by grabbing Magnus’ hand to yank her down the hall. Mag stumbles after her, barely managing to pull her own door shut before they’re almost fox-trotting down the hall.

It smells amazing, is the first thought that comes to mind; like spices and buttered meat. Mag’s mouth waters immediately.

She takes a quick look around. Most of the boxes are still stacked up, and there are clothes, like, everywhere on the floor, but there are knick-knacks up, and some picture frames propped against the wall, waiting to be hung. The kitchen, however, looks completely done. There’s pots and pans hanging up and dishes in the sink. On the island, there’s two ready-to-eat plates of steak, shrimp, and rice.

“Holy wow, this looks amazing!”

“Taako was feeling a little cajun today, no biggie,” Taako says, floating to the cupboard for a second glass. “Take a seat. You want any wine?”

“Sure, I’ll take a glass,” Magnus agrees, obediently pulling out a stool.

“This is the good shit,” Taako says, pouring her a full glass of something dark red and velvety before taking a seat across from her. “Dig in!”

Magnus doesn’t have to be told twice. She cuts up the steak and spoons a little rice on, takes a bite and moans. She hasn’t had a home-made meal in ages. Even when Julia was still around, they were both too lazy to cook most days, opting in for take out instead.

“Bingo bango, right?” Taako says with a smug grin.

“This is fucking amazing,” she says, still savoring the bite.

“I know,” she says, taking a sip. “I can’t put furniture together for shit, but I can cook a mean meal. So we’re even, right?”

“Yes — I mean, I feel like I still owe you! All I did was put together a bed frame, this is like a Michigan star meal!”

“Michelin star, you mean,” Taako snorts, amused. “Hey, I’ve still got plenty of furniture to build, so I guess we can just start a running tab, huh?”

It starts that way. Magnus does end up putting together a couch and a dresser. Puts up all the picture frames and ladder shelves with Taako on the counter, legs crossed, directing her where to go.

Taako keeps cooking her killer food and sends her home with leftovers that make her coworkers jealous. Avi tries to steal her pot pie and she almost throws him out the window. She likes the company, likes coming over while Taako weaves stories about her incompetent coworker, and how much pressure she’s getting with ratings on her show.

Magnus finally gets a TV just to watch Sizzle it up! With Taako in support. She’s fantastic on screen, of course, nothing shines a light to Taako in real life. _

She meets Lup and Barry a month in, when they finally have down time from their research. She’s never seen Taako nervous before, but today she is. She’s a whirlwind in the kitchen, so Mag stays out of the way after her hands get slapped a few times for trying to help out.

Magnus dresses up a little for it, just a suit she hasn’t worn in a while. She has to take off the blazer to duck under the table and fix a wobbly table leg, though.

“What are you nervous for? Is she mean?”

“Lup? No! She’s just — three minutes older and she thinks she’s three years older. She’s worried about me, or whatever, so I need her to think I’m living my best life! I’m hot shit! I don’t need her to worry. The hot mess Taako? She’s long gone! Left on the wild beaches of Ibiza, baby!”

“Okay. I can back that up, if you want?” Magnus dusts her hands off, retesting the table. When it seems good and sturdy, she returns all of the table decorations to their place.

“No, I just need you to tell me if this needs more salt,” she says, coming around the corner. She shoves the spoon in Mag’s mouth, knocking against her teeth. Mag pulls away, licking gravy off her lips. “It’s good,” she says, steadying Taako’s wrist. “Thanks for not knocking my teeth in.”

“Shit, sorry,” Taako says, setting the spoon down. She uses the bottom corner of her apron to wipe at Mag’s mouth. The fabric tickles Magnus’ nose and she thinks hard about that instead of how she wants to suck Taako’s fingers into her mouth.

There’s a knock at the door and Taako curses. “I’ll get it,” Mag says, steadying her waist. She pecks her forehead and moves on to the door.

“This Taako’s place?” Lup says. She looks almost identical to Taako, except she’s taller, and she’s got an undercut. Her clothes says she just left a punk-rock concert, rather than the chemistry lab Magnus knows she and Barry work at. Magnus likes her immediately.

“Yep! Right place. I’m Magnus, Taako’s — neighbor. She’s right over there, being totally normal and well adjusted!” Magnus winks at her, but Taako misses it. She looks dazed and her fingers are at her brow. Magnus worries that she might have cut herself or something, but she seems to snap out of it when Lup comes running over. They collide in shrieks and limbs. Magnus can’t stop grinning watching them.

Barry chuckles. “They always act like they haven’t seen each other in years when they see each other.”

Dinner goes well. Taako makes an assortment of things, including pot pies. Magnus eats two of them and Lup gives her a weird look the whole time.

“Do I have something on my face?”

“No, it’s just— that’s a new one on the menu, sis,” Lup says, smirking at Taako.

“What can I say? I’m always evolving.”

“Changed the whole ‘pot pie is soggy puff pastry with glue and peas for filling’ outlook?”

“Whaaat? It’s my favorite,” Magnus says, cuddling the pot pie closer to herself. “Taako makes the best pot pie I’ve ever had in my life.”

Lup cackles out loud and Taako throws a Hawaiian roll at her.

After dinner, as Magnus comes out of the bathroom, Lup is right there, looking dangerous. She’s easily 2 inches taller than Magnus with her heels on. “Hey Maggie, can we chat? So I like you— and, listen, hate to do this. But if you so much as treat her wrong once, I will set your car on fire and I will make it look like an accident. I am a chemist, so I can Breaking Bad your shit to high heaven, get me? Oh, and I have a coworker who’s real sweet on her and who I’d love her to meet. So don’t clown me,” Lup pats her on the shoulder once before straightening up.

“Uh. Okay.”

“Let’s go get seconds of cobbler before Barry eats the whole thing.”

The whole encounter is a little bit confusing and a little bit arousing, but Magnus will never tell Taako that. _

Mag doesn’t even stop by her own apartment, just heads straight to 309, opens the door without thinking about it, and hangs up her jacket on the hook she installed two days ago. There’s a pot on the stove that’s bubbling, but Taako’s nowhere in sight. When Mag takes a step in, she can hear the shower running. All of the boxes are gone. The couch is there and Taako’s added a few fake plants to the shelves. Julia would have filled their apartment up top to bottom with plants and flowers. She had a green thumb.

Shit, Taako hadn’t even said anything about furniture today. Mag had just assumed, had walked right in without asking, like she lives here. Embarrassment crawls up her throat and she takes a quiet step back, knocking into a side table. A cup gets knocked off and tumbles to the floor with a clatter.

“Maggie? Is that you?”

“Uh, nope!”

Shit, shit, shit. She quickly picks it up, takes off her flannel to mop up the tea that spilled. She hears the bathroom door open and the pretty, floral smell of Taako’s body wash fills the living room.

“Hey, what’s up?” Taako says, eyebrows raised. She’s got her hair wrapped up in a towel and she’s in a fluffy looking robe. Mag wants to bundle her up in her arms and kiss her freckled nose.

“Hey. Uh, nothing. Just—,” Mag looks for her escape.

“Cool. Dinner will be ready in a couple of minutes… Is there something wrong? You look a little jumpy.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m fine. I’m gonna. I’m gonna go home. And eat there. At home. See you later!”

Magnus rushes out.

“Mags?” she hears, muffled behind her.

Her heart’s pounding in her chest when she gets home. It’s dark. Her laundry basket is still next to the couch with a pile of unsorted socks she’d abandoned when Taako came knocking at her door to get a coat hanger installed. She stayed over to talk until 2 am, until her throat got scratchy and the tea went cold.

“Julia? What am I doing?”

You’re smarter than that, Mags.

Magnus sighs. “But what if I’m not ready?”

Tough luck, my love.

Julia’s right. Julia’s also dead and isn’t here to actually give her advice over a mortifying crush; or just to be here, filling up the empty spaces with her warmth. It’s just Magnus in her sad, bachelorette-style apartment. Mag turns the door handle, takes a deep breath and centers herself, determined to just deal with this.

There’s no answer when she knocks on Taako's door. She knocks again.

“Taako?”

She tries the handle, but it’s locked and, okay, she probably deserves that. “Can we talk?”

The door cracks open and Taako looks livid, her lip curled up in a snarl. Her eyes are narrowed and she looks poised, ready to slam the door in Magnus’ face. “What?”

“So, about our tab. There’s like, no more furniture or fix-it-ups I have to do, right? So, I feel kind of bad about eating your food.” Oh boy, this isn’t what she wants to say at all.

Taako stares at her in disbelief. She shoves Magnus’ jacket out through the crack and slams the door. “Fuck you!”

“No! Wait! Fuck! That’s not what I—“

No response.

Magnus leans her forehead against the door and closes her eyes. Her fingers trace the grain of the wood as she concentrates on what to say. “I haven’t done this in… I have a dead wife. She was the love of my life and I didn’t think I’d be doing this again, like ever. But then you walked in here and everything changed.” she says slowly and sincerely.

The door knob turns slowly and Taako pulls it open, looking wary. Her hair’s damp, freed from its towel and she’s still in her bathrobe.

“Why didn’t you tell me about her?” She says, crossing her arms.

“I wanted to. But it still feels fresh, sometimes. I want to talk about her. With you, if that’s okay. Can you let me in, please?” Taako bites her lip, thinking for a moment before she swings the door open. She slinks to the couch and doesn’t face Mag just yet.

“You kissed my forehead.”

“What? When?”

“The other night when Lup and Barry were over.” Had she? Oh shit, she had. Magnus approaches the couch slowly, sitting at the other end of it.

“I… liked it. I wanted you to do it again. And I keep cooking pot pies, even though they are glue and peas in soggy pastry. But you like them and you get so happy when I make them — I’m in over my head. Taako doesn’t really do this. Lup’s right to worry, because I am a mess. Cooking is basically the only thing I’m good at. And surfing, I guess.”

“You surf?”

“That’s beside the point. The point is, I don’t have any more furniture for you to build. I did consider catalogue shopping for furniture I don’t need, so that you would keep coming over. Because why would you want to be here otherwise?” She looks up, expression sullen.

“Because you’re here,” Mag says, softly. “Taako…I guess, I was worried — conflicted…about what it means that your apartment feels more like home to me than my own apartment. Just now, I walked into your apartment without even thinking about it. And I don’t want to like, freak you out, or scare you away, because this like, freaks me out a little. How much I like you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I really, really do. I like you! It scares me, how much I do.”

“You’re dumb,” Taako says, and it stings a little. But then she starts moving, climbing on top of Magnus, setting her bony ass on her lap. “You’re so dumb, god, Taako what are you doing?” she says to herself before leaning in and kissing her. It’s good, better than Magnus remembers. Her hands slide up carefully to the bird-bones of Taako’s shoulders. She’s so petite, nothing like Julia’s full figure at all, but Magnus likes it anyway.

Taako’s delicate fingers brush through the short sides of her hair, up into the thick, wavy top of it. She moans into the kiss, trembles when Magnus licks into her mouth. She tastes sugar-sweet and Magnus swirls her tongue to get more, to feel the cut of her gapped-teeth. Her hands keep exploring, down the waist of her fluffy robe to where her knees and thighs peek out. She squeezes the tops of her thighs and Taako moans again.

Taako pulls away first, her hands still stroking at the base of Mag’s neck. Her eyes are closed, forehead resting against hers. “God, your hands. Watching your hands when you work drives me crazy,” she says, grinding down a little. Magnus can feel a rush of wetness from her own cunt, her clit twitching for friction.

“Can I touch you? Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” she says breathily, holding herself steady, one hand at Mag’s shoulder as she presents herself. Mag unties the robe, feeling like she’s unwrapping a present as she unfolds the robe to reveal more of her. The curves of her breasts and the pooch of her tummy shift when she sucks in a breath. “Don’t,” Maggie says, reaching out to pet her tummy first and then up to cup her boobs. They’re a perfect handful and her nipples are so fucking hard already. Magnus leans forward to lick her neck and nibble at her collarbone. “You’re so gorgeous, fuck."

Mag’s thumb presses hard at her perfect, dark brown nub, pinches her hard until she gasps and rubs herself on Mag’s thigh again, riding her. Mag presses the heel of her palm to her own cunt, still trapped in layers of clothing. She leans down and kisses the top of her right breast and then sucks the whole thing into her mouth, sucking hard, then she narrows in on the nub with her teeth and pulls gently. “Maggie, fuck!”

Taako cries out again, grasp tightening in her hair and she can feel it this time, her wetness soaking into the denim of her jeans. Magnus pulls away, breathing hard and laps dirtily at her, circling her areola until Taako’s shuddering in her lap.

“Wanna eat you out,” Magnus slurs, wild-eyed, a trail of saliva running down her lip.

“Fuck yes. Great idea, yes,” Taako nods profusely and scrambles back onto the couch. The robe falls away and Taako shifts the sleeves off so she can wrap her arms around Magnus’ neck.

Mag grins at her, pushes her thighs up so they’re folded and presses her nose down the valley of her hips. She closes her eyes, smearing her lips down the crease of her hip. Takes her time, inhales deeply at the thatch of her well-groomed pubes, intoxicated by her musky sweetness. She buries her nose and laps at the dew-drops of cum on her pubes.

Mag blinks her eyes open, takes in her glistening pussy. Taako’s dark brown lips shine sweetly, and when she uses her fingers to split her open, she’s so pink and soft. Magnus’ mouth fucking waters.

She flattens her tongue, eyes on Taako’s face as she pushes her broad tongue against her pussy folds, moving her head side to side as does. Taako’s belly sucks in again and she moans as Mag presses in further, circling in slowly towards her clit.

She teases her, brushes her nose against it first, spreads her wide, one hand on her thigh, the other two fingers petting at her slick folds. She’s so fucking wet and messy and Mag just has to clean that up first, right?

“Stop teasing,” Taako whines, humping up. Mag grins at her, nipping her teeth along the inside of her thighs. Mag sucks off her fingers, grinning at Taako.

“This is Michelin star pussy. I gotta take my time.” Taako barks a laugh until she moans when Magnus uses the opportunity, rushes in, fucking her tongue into her tight, throbbing pussy. She licks out all of the sweet, slick juice dripping out of her and keeps doing it, stroking in deep.

“Oh, fuck son of a—,“ Taako whimpers, rutting against her. Magnus pulls back out, circling again with the tip of her tongue, tracing her. Then gentle, gentle, gentle she moves to her clit, sucks her into her mouth and swirls her tongue on the hot, hard head of it. Taako sobs and Magnus sinks two fingers in, rubbing at the velvet smooth inside. She crooks her fingers in Taako's cunt, playing with her now.

Taako’s thighs tighten around her head and she rides her face, chin to the ceiling as her orgasm builds. Mag tongues her clit, fast and rhythmic, eyes locked on Taako’s face. She’s biting her bottom lip hard, holding it off until she can’t anymore. Her mouth drops open, slutty, as she comes hard, hips lifting up off the couch; her moan chokes off and her long fingernails dig into Magnus’ neck.

Magnus keeps going. She adds two more fingers and she fucks them in harder, uses her whole arm to fuck that sweet spot inside of her. She can feel her pussy clenching, tightening, pulsating wildly around her, can feel the hungry heat, the way it wants to swallow her up and release at the same time. She kisses her clit and then sucks at the overstimulated nub. Taako’s hips keep working, and she lifts up again, oversensitive. Magnus pulls her mouth away, watching her pussy twitching restlessly. She pulls her fingers out all the way and then pushes them back in, deep.

Taako comes all over her, squirts all over her face like a fountain spray. Magnus closes her eyes and opens her mouth, drinks her up, best she can — swallows it all up, almost snarling as she does. She closes her mouth on her cunt, letting the last of it hit the the back of her throat. Magnus hastily shoves her hand down the front of her jeans and rubs.

She’s so fucking wet, she can barely feel it. Her whole hand coated with Taako’s cum and her own and she fucks the side of her thumb hard and fast. She comes, groaning. Taako pulls her into a kiss that she can’t see because it’s hard to open her eyes. She pants into the kiss, lets Taako lick at her mouth and her face. Her thumb grazes Mag’s chin, stroking over and over again until Magnus winds down.

Simultaneously, they collapse together in a heap.

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“Talk about splash zone. I have never come that hard in my life. I’m gonna have to get a new couch,” Taako says, absolutely awed. Magnus grins smugly, using her left hand to at least wipe off her face so she can see Taako. She looks flushed, eye bright and glossy. She’s stunning. Magnus kisses her red, red lips.

“Gonna have to do that again, like pronto. My legs are jello, though. I think my soul astral-projected. I’m still floating up there.”

“No, come back,” Mag says, with a giggle.

“You still have clothes on. How is that fair?” Taako whines, pulling at her shirt. “I wanna see those abs. I wanna see that wet, hot fucking pussy.”

“I’m gonna have to throw these boxers and jeans away,” she says, making a face. It’s already starting to get uncomfortable and chafing.

“I wanted to throw those jeans away, anyway. They have wood stain all over them, babe.” Mag snorts and rolls her eyes. Taako tugs at the bottom of her shirt again, inhaling deeply. She presses her face up into Mag’s hairy pit and mutters something.

“What was that?”

“Maggie,” Taako’s eyebrows are furled when she shows her face again.

“I like you,” she says, voice shaky. Magnus’ heart takes a long distance leap, right over some finish line she didn’t know she was running. “I want you to come over every day, eat my food, fix my furniture, and keep fucking me on every inch of this apartment. I’m really, really not good at this stuff, but hey, I’m shootin’ my shot here. I want you to be my girlfriend, please and thank you. You and also your dead wife willing — may she rest in peace, if that’s gucci.”

Magnus strokes the soft skin of Taako’s waist, staring at every blink over every hard word. She knows how hard Taako’s trying and she’s trying for her. How incredible is that? How lucky is she? Jules, I think I may be in good hands.

“I am very willing. And I think Julia would… want this for me. She was that way, you know?”

Taako smiles at her, presses a kiss to her lips and then sucks hard on her bottom lip until Magnus groans. “You taste like me, which is very hot. I mean, my pussy is Michelin star rated, as you know. But I think I know exactly what I want to go for my second course,” she wiggles her eyebrows and starts to slide down the length of Mag’s body.

“Get these clothes off right now.” _

Taako can’t keep a plant alive. Taako cooks everything and anything and it's always fantastic, takes 2-hour long baths, despite the messes she leaves everywhere in her room. She doesn’t care that Mag leaves her dirty work boots toppled over in the foyer, but does care about what Magnus wears when they go out together.

She likes bad TV (so did Jules), nicknames, and surprisingly, kids too. She hates dogs. She also hates pot pies, but makes them for Magnus, anyway. Magnus thinks she is probably, definitely in love with Taako, despite the dog thing. (She’s working on it.)

#taagnus #taagnus week #my writing

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undeadishness · 5 years ago

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Okay haven’t actually mentioned this but I was at a haunted house for my birthday and we did this storyline thing where there was a zombie virus and there was a mad scientist at the end who wanted to inject you with the virus and let me just say

I saw your pride ring date me

If it were a greasy old dude w white hair I’d have been snappier and resorted to humor bc that’s just how it be when I’m spooked but. My entire brain short circuited and I think I died

I was just like ‘the uh- the sku I mean, the skuz virus’ and she goes ‘sku-Sku- skuz? Alright then’

Like if I was on an actual team to save the world and the enemy was a butch science lady then let me say we would all be fucked up and over.

She basically said we’d be carrying the virus out for her whether we liked it or not and I was just like ‘alrighty doc, sign me the fuck up skuz for life I’m gay’

#inky speaks #im gay #im so stupidly gay you dont even k n o w #i think anout this a lot #like #the actor legit knew how to make a bitch carry a zombie virus

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missjackil · 6 years ago

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My 14x17 Opinion

Game Night

This was the first new episode since “The Announcement” and I have to say I was putting off writing it. I usually post these the day after, but I procrastinated so it’s a bit late. So forgive my butt-hurt tardiness and let's have at it.

I enjoyed this episode, though it wasn't without some issues. I must say that I was pleased that it wasn't as Sam-lite as I thought it would be from the promo pics, trailer, and knowing Jared didn't work a lot that week, I will always want for more Sam in an episode, but all his parts were necessary and high quality in this one, so I'm not angry at all.

We start the episode with Donatello making cookies, singing Raindrops are Fallin’ on my Head, which made me smile. It made me think of Butch Cassiday and The Sundance Kid and I love that movie, and if J2 ever want to play the leads in a remake, I would be willing to pay for it myself!

Donny gets interrupted by the door, and we know this is a problem because its the first 5 minutes of SPN, let's be honest. As soon as I see the bad guy’s wedding ring, I think “Shit... here comes Nick”. I thought he was gonna kill him and I'm glad he didn't. I like Donny, he looks like my dad. 😊

Back at the Bunker, the fam is getting ready for “Winchester Game Night” and Dean is playing Mouse Trap, and having no luck getting it to work. I had that game as a kid too and was never able to get it to work either, but it was fun putting it together! I did think it was a little sad but fitting, that Dean would have played that game as a 4 yr old, but leave it to John and Mary to give Dean a game made for older kids, that never worked out the way it was supposed to and had too many small parts he could choke on. (the irony is not lost on me)

Mary and Jack are in the kitchen. I could literally almost smell the Jiffy Pop popcorn. A Saturday night staple at my house growing up (any of you out there ever taste that greasy salt left on the sides of the foil pan? Good stuff!) and Mary starts in with the questions for Jack. I got a kick out of him telling her its annoying, and her face after. It’s ok Mary, he’s fine, he’s just a teenager now. Something I guess she never got to experience from the adult side.

Sam is out getting pizza, and all the times they’ve had pizza, I never really saw what Sam likes on his. Apparently both he and Dean like lots of pepperoni. Good choice boys! The joy is short-lived (of course) by Donatello’s call, and Dean and Mary go off to help. I loved Sam sitting there researching. I have always loved his look of interest and concentration during these times. Smart!Sam moment #1 he figures out the language is ancient Hebrew, #2 he has the moment of realization that he knows it’s from the Bible, and knows what chapter and verse. (demerits for the writers though for not knowing Peter is in the New Testament and is in Ancient Greek, not Hebrew, but kudos for Sam/Jared for at least knowing the book is located near the back of The Bible)

Mom and Dean in the car. Now we have the talk about how wrong she knows she’s been but how appreciative she is to have this time with him and Sam. Uhoh... sounds like lines typically given to a character who is soon to be killed off? Hmmm we’ll see. Soon they arrive at Donny’s to find Nick. He says he's poisoned Donny and to save him, they have to help him. He wants to talk.

Back at the bunker, violent rage!Sam awaits!! GOD that gave me tingles in the best way! I loved Dean leading Nick down the hall in cuffs, in slow motion as if leading him to his execution, and Sam standing there with his chest puffed out like a friggin’ bulldozer, and the snarl and slam attack against the wall!! (hand me that towel, please??) Dean backs Sam off, lots of brother touching going on, but we need intel, we can't kill him yet.

Now Sam is in self-loathing mode.... he thinks everything is his fault. So many people dying because of him. This is gonna be a big issue soon, I promise. Mom talks Sam off the self-deprecating ledge and tells him he gave Nick another chance because he’s a good man and that's why she’s so proud of him. Sam softens up into the sweetest “aww shucks ma” smile and I want to hug him💕 also, still lines are being spoken by mom that are synonymous with being killed off.

Now, I procrastinated talking about Cas and Anael because the whole thing was boring. I'm not a wife hater but at least make her necessary if you’re going to cast her. I was ok about her role as Sister Jo for Devil’s Bargain but she hasn't been necessary since. Cas wasn't even necessary in this episode. We knew he was hiding the fact that Jack killed the snake, and there are probably 1000 other ways they could have reminded us that the Samulet is still around and maybe they can use it, than for him to find a similar one in the thrift shop or whatever that place was. I dug Methuzula though, he was the oldest dude in the Bible. He wasn’t an angel, for any of you worried about him liking lasagna or why he couldn't just smite Cas... its because he's HUMAN just extremely old.

On to more interesting things.

Nick wants to talk to Jack. I was not pleased with Nick referring to Jack as his son. Im not 100% convinced that the writer (and all involved really) remembered that Jack isnt Nick’s son, but added that as a note of empathy Nick has for Lucifer, you’d THINK someone, particularly Jack would say “Im not your son” ?? but anyway, he gives intel to Jack and also gets his blood (dun dun dunnnn)

Sam is again a smarty pants and knows the antidote for Thalium is Prussian Blue (makes note) and figures he can hack the live feed (brains are so sexy) I also love that Sam’s word is the go word. So many more decisions are made because Sam thinks its the best option than he's ever given for in the fandom. So Sam and Dean take Nick with them to find Donny.

I really love the broments in this part. Dean tells Nick if he tries anything funny, Sam will shoot him. “And if anything happens to me....” “Sam will shoot me” “To start!” says Sam... because if he hurts Dean, Sam isnt letting him off that easy. But in true SPN form, as soon as Sam and Dean are separated, shit goes south.

Mom calls Sam and lets him know Donny was shot up with Angel grace, as Jack figured out, Nick was playing them. Now the fight between Sam and Nick ensues! Nick tells Sam why he used Donatello, which was to bring Lucifer back, “You can't, he’s dead he’s in the Empty” Sam says but this show’s self-awareness gets me sometimes lol Nick’s like “Cmon Sam you know no one stays dead anymore” and Sam starts kicking his ass.

Now, I have already seen a million of you whine and complain that Sam didn’t kill Nick. It’s almost as though some of you have never met Sam Winchester. Of course Sam could have killed Nick, and most of us wish he did, but Sam has stopped himself from killing humans before. He stopped himself with Jake in AHBL and also with Toni in 12x01. Unfortunately it always bites him in the ass. Could it be that Sam thinks if he can kill a human with his bare hands that he’s a monster? This isn’t bad writing folks, this is Sam’s character.

Nick takes advantage of Sam’s hesitation and starts nailing him with a rock. Spewing crap about Sam being Lucifer’s Perfect vessel and such.... this can only mean that issue will be coming up soon! Sam gets in the car and starts laying on the horn for Dean, calling out to him... Dean hears Sam is in trouble, enough playing around here time to kill some demons.

When he gets to Sam. he sees he’s badly injured. Sam can hardly hold on to consciousness, protective!dean kicks in! Apply preasure to the blled, call 911, call mom. Now check for brain damage and play a counting game with Sam This hurt my feels so much, it made it feel so much more serious than all the other head injuries he’s sustained. Dean and his caring big brother smile and light hearted speech so Sam doesnt panic just kills me in the best way!! Sam tries to count with him a little and breaks into “You always put me first... your whole life” and manages to muster a little smile. Dean knows Sam believes he’s checking out, and you see the fear all over Dean’s face as Sam fades away. (OMG these 2!! Every freakin time!!)

Meanwhile, Mary and Jack found Nick and he has summoned Lucifer and just about to take him in again (Lucifer looked pretty cool,,, gotta say) and Jack zaps Lucifer back into the rift (no not forever guys... cmon) and starts torturing Nick. Mary kinda flips out telling Jack to stop. He’s contorting his hand, burning him from the inside out... not simply killijng him. Mary is full on worried now. Jack stops and Nick is laying on the floor. Mary is in shock and tells Jack to go help Sam, He heals him and Dean cant even hide his relief as he turns away to catch his breath.

Now Jack returns to Mary who is more than worried about how Jack was torturing Nick. We know the Winchesters dont mind killing, but draw the line at torture. However, Mary stupidly poked the bear. She could have just kept herself and Jack calm and talked to the boys later, but she poked and poked till Jack freaked out. Though I am wondering if Jack was also hearing Lucifer when he was shouting “Leave me alone!!” But in any regard, he looked at Mary and something happened. Fade to black.

Aside from the Cas/Anael part, I really enjoyed this episode. A few issues yes, but it hit most of the marks needed for me to enjoy an episode. Ive already rewatched it twice and will again and again.

On a scale of Bloodlines to Lebanon, I give this a strong 7.5 without the Cas/Anael bit it would have been an easy 8.

#14x17 spoilers #game night #my opinion #i dug this one #love this 2nd half a lot

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mycasandstarrs · 6 years ago

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SPN 2x11: “Playthings”

A girl named Tyler? That is so cool.

That doll house replica of the hotel is pretty awesome.

AND UGH THAT IS GRUESOME.

RIP Mover guy.

Sam’s still looking for Ava.

Shut up, Dean.

Yeah, thank you.

“So I’m not giving up on her, but I’m not going to let other people die either. We’ve got to save as many people as we can.” Y’all mind if I SCREAM ABOUT HOW MUCH I LOVE SAM WINCHESTER

“Wow. That attitude is just way too healthy for me, and I’m officially uncomfortable now. Thank you.” lmao, I’d also like to humbly proclaim my love for this little shithead.

That hotel is beautiful.

SCOOBY DOO REFERENCE

Oh we know you love Daphne, Dean. We freaking know.

A quincunx, used in hoodoo spellwork.

Mistaken for a couple again, LMAO. Should’ve seen that coming when she asked them if they were antiquing.

Wonder which vice-presidents stayed here?

The dress on the wall is...a thing.

“Of course, the most troubling question is why do these people assume we’re gay?”

“Well, you are kind butch. Probably think you’re overcompensating.”

Sam came up with that answer WAY TOO FAST, he already knows/suspects.

Dean in a henley tho.

“Are those antique dolls? Because this one, this one here, he’s got a major doll collection back home. Dontcha?” Dean throwing Sam under the bus, what an asshole. I love him

The most unconvincing “it’s true” ever.

Grandma Rose, our first suspect.

Demolishing the hotel would be a shame, it is beautiful...in a somewhat creepy way.

RIP Lawyer guy.

Drunk Sam?

Drunk Sam!

Awww honey, that’s not your fault in any way.

I love Drunk!Sam, even when it turned real sad, real quick.

“Yeah well, Dad’s an ass.He never should have said anything. I mean, you don’t do that, you don’t, you don’t lay that kind of crap on your kids.” EXACTLY.

Ok, now get your drunk ass to bed, Sam.

(lmao @ his sleeping position tho.)

OOOHHH very “the Shining.”

“They’re not happy now?”

“Well, would you be, leaving the only home you ever knew?”

“I don’t know. I never really knew one.”

:( One day, you will.

I can’t remember if Sherwin dies or not, but I sure as hell hope not.

The symbol from earlier. Rose’s nanny is wearing the quincunx as a necklace.

Hungover Sam. Poor sweetie.

“You know there’s a really good hangover remedy- it’s a, it’s a greasy pork sandwich served up in a dirty ashtray.”

“Oh I hate you.”

“I know you do.”

Grandma Rose had a stroke, which has left her disabled. Since hoodoo is hands-on and requires a lot of physical activity, it can’t be Rose behind all this.

“Yeah, what are you gonna do, poke her with a stick?”

*Dean seriously considers this*

“Dude! You’re not gonna poke her with a stick!”

That reveal that Maggie wasn’t actually a person absolutely got me when I first watched this episode.

Yes! Sherwin makes it out alive!

Oh dear.

GET INSIDE SUSAN.

Ayyy Sam!

MOTE: vengeful spirit.

There ya go.

Oh, that is ominous af.

Maggie is Rose’s sister, drowned in the pool.

Sam’s parallel of 1x03.

Tyler’s alive, thank god.

Rose sacrifices herself so Maggie can let Tyler and Susan go.

RIP Grandma Rose.

“There’s nothing to apologize for. You’ve given me everything.”

Awww, Sam got a hug!

GODDAMN IT I KNEW DEAN WOULD JOKE ABOUT THAT.

Sam with that 180 tho

We can’t have a light hearted ending, can we?

BUT WE CAN HAVE A CREEPY ONE, OH MY GOODNESS.

#supernatural #spn summer rewatch #spn liveblog #spn 2x11 #i l o v e this episode #it's one of my favorites

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awashsquid · 7 years ago

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Hey, here’s the update I promised like a week ago! (I really need to stop giving y’all dates because every time I do it ends up late...) Next addition to The Death of the Moon, all of which can be found here. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised this is ending up so Haruka- and Michiru-centric, but I promise some of the other girls will be pulled back in next chapter. Like this chapter? Consider leaving a nice comment or buying me a coffee!

“Haruka, when’s the last time you took a shower?” Minako’s nose wrinkled a little. “You’re a little ripe, bud.” That part wasn’t necessarily true—Haruka didn’t smell quite yet, but her hair was lank and greasy, and she was still clearly wearing the same clothes she had been the day prior.

“Shut up,” Haruka muttered, taking a swig of her beer. She sipped thoughtfully, swishing the drink around a little in her mouth. “Sunday, maybe? I’m, uh, not sure.” She shifted on the couch, sitting upright rather than lying down. “It doesn’t really matter, Mina.”

Minako slammed her beer bottle down on the glass end table with a noise that made Haruka wince, thankful that nothing had cracked with the force of the action. Michiru would be furious, she thought absently; then, frustrated that she had thought of her yet again, she raised the bottle to her lips and took an angry draught.

“’Ruka, it fucking matters if you’re clean, one: because I prefer not to smell overripe butch, and two: because I refuse to stay in again, and I’m not taking you out when you look like a kicked dog.” She stood up and brushed off her leathery leggings, removing any imaginary lint. “Come on, I’ll help you up the stairs,” she added, a little gentler, hand extended to assist in lifting her.

Haruka angrily swatted the hand away. “I don’t need your help, Minako. You go out without me.” She drank once more before the bottle was yanked from her grasp, foam droplets dotting her pajama pants, darkening the racecar print and making her frown heavily.

“Haruka, I’m pretty sure you haven’t moved off the couch except to piss in like five days. We’ve exhausted our favorite delivery options, and you need to reintegrate into society. See people that aren’t animated.” She swung her arm towards the television, Up illustrating her point.

The seated woman rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Jesus, Mina, ‘reintegrate into society’ like I’m getting released from prison or something.”

“Well, there’s something to be said for self-made prisons,” Minako muttered in response, crossing to turn off the television and ignoring Haruka’s cry of protest.

“Oi, I’m right in the middle—”

“—’Ruka, I assure you, that Drake—”

“—Dug—”

“—whatever, will still be here when we get back.” She turned back to face her friend, expression stony to show that she would not be willing to compromise.

But Haruka wasn’t one to back down either, and she stood up to confront Minako, albeit a little wobbly from both getting used to her new prosthetic and the several beers she had speedily downed. “Listen, Mina, I don’t need your fucking pity!” She pointed an accusatory finger in Minako’s face as she continued in a roar, exploding all of her pain in the direction of the other woman. “If I want to stay in and watch movies with happy endings, and drink, and not shower, that is my fucking problem, okay? Not yours!”

Her arms swung out wildly, showcasing the little couch nest she had built for herself, cheap fleece blankets that didn’t smell of Michiru, a stack of movies that were animated and happy without the presence of romance, glass bottles littering the floor around her perch. “This is what is making me happy, okay? So turn the TV back on and get out of my house!” With that last shout, she flopped back onto the couch with a loud thud, knocking a few bottles over as she did so. In the back of her mind, she could almost hear Michiru worrying that any lingering beer would stain the carpet, but that reminder just served to make her almost glad that she had knocked them down, happy to destroy something that she would have wanted to keep pristine.

Minako let out a harsh sigh and then pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, shaking her head roughly. “You should listen to yourself, Haruka. You sound absolutely cracked.” Haruka opened her mouth to indignantly reply, but Minako’s hand snapped back down to her side, a soldier coming into form, and the blaze in her eyes silenced whatever she was going to yell out.

“I have let you wallow in this for a week, Haruka. I haven’t asked questions. I haven’t made demands. I have let you sit, and stew, and drink until I’m not sure when the last time you were sober even was, and I haven’t said a word. Have I?” She didn’t wait for a response in her clipped, icy tirade before continuing. “But damn it, Haruka, there comes a time when you need to get the fuck over it. I’m not going to keep coddling your ass until it becomes fused to the couch and we need the fire department to come cut you out, okay? If that’s what you want, if that’s all you’re willing to accept, then call someone else, because I refuse to let you effectively end your life over this.”

“You don’t understand, Mina, it’s not like you’ve ever been in love,” Haruka spat acidly, regretting the words the moment that they left her mouth.

Minako barked out a loud laugh, eyes raised to the ceiling, before jumping right back in to her speech. “Bitch, I, the reincarnated goddess of Love, think I may have an eensy-weensy idea of what love is, okay? So if you’re done channeling your fucking mom over there, I’d like to finish.” It was a low blow and they both knew it, Haruka wincing the second that her mom was brought into the conversation, like always, but it wasn’t to say that Minako didn’t have a point. Her mother had been cruel and callous, spurning away everyone who ever tried to help her—young Haruka included—with words and fists until she eventually wasted away, a combination of drugs, alcohol, and self-pity that added up to a lethal cocktail.

The dawning horror of the realization that she was, in fact, acting almost exactly like her mother must have shown on Haruka’s face, because Minako sat down on the ottoman to reach her at eye level and lowered her voice back to a normal speaking volume. “Calm down, you’re not your mom, Haruka. But right now, I won’t bullshit you, you are acting like her, and that’s why I’m not letting you do it any longer. I will not—” Minako took a moment to swallow hard, and Haruka saw that there were tears in the corners of her eyes “—I will not lose someone else that I love because I did nothing to save them.” She swiped the back of her hand across her eyes furiously, not allowing the tears to fall, lest she begin to cry and never stop.

“The choice is yours, ’Ruka. You can get a shower and come grab some deep-fried food that we don’t have to reheat in the oven with me and a couple of the girls, or you can sit on this couch and rot. But if you decide to stay, don’t expect me to hold your hand and watch you kill yourself. I won’t do it.”

Minako stood back up then, beginning to cross to the doorway before she paused to turn back around. With utmost sincerity in her eyes, she added, “Haruka, you’re so strong. You always were one of my best soldiers. You lost half of your fucking leg and you’re already walking around, before all this shit with Michiru, you were even telling me you were gonna try running soon. Don’t let this be the thing that breaks you when you’ve already overcome so much.”

Haruka sat, fingers fiddling idly with the scratchy fleece in her lap, eyes roaming over the little cocoon she had made in a futile effort to block out the pain. She imagined herself in six months, still on the couch, bottles of hard liquor added to her glass graveyard, pain pills strewn across the end table, still staring at the screen and waiting for her life to be as easy as a Pixar movie, knowing that if she picked up her phone, Minako might not answer.

“Wait,” she called, standing up. Minako was still lacing up her boots, and she paused to glance upwards. “Give me like fifteen minutes. Actually,” she sniffed her armpit and wrinkled her nose, “maybe give me like a half hour. You weren’t wrong about ripe butch smell.” She let the corner of her mouth turn up in a little smile, and Minako returned it tenfold as her face lit up with a supermodel-worthy beam.

“That’s perfect, I could use some time to catch up on my Snapchat feed,” Minako replied, winking easily as she stood, revealing that her boots were completely laced and she had just been stalling for time.

Haruka rolled her eyes and turned towards the bathroom before thinking better of it and turning back around. “Mina, about what I said—”

“Psh, don’t worry about it, I know you didn’t mean it, you softie.” Minako waved away the concern with a flick of her wrist, barely looking up as she tapped through something on her phone. Haruka smiled, a little unconvinced, but knowing that she wouldn’t get more out of stretching the issue, and continued her trek to the bathroom.

“You know, her death wasn’t your fault,” she called over her shoulder, unwilling to turn around and see Minako flinch the way she always did—the way they all still did—when Usagi was brought up.

“I know, I know, now go shower before I turn the hose on you!” When Haruka was out of the room, Minako muttered to herself, allowing her mask of happiness to fall for a moment to reveal a pained expression underneath, “That’s what everyone keeps telling me, anyway.” She pressed Send on the message for everyone to meet at the bar and sat down to wait.

#the death of the moon #minako aino #haruka tenoh #fanfiction #my writing #i firmly feel that the best friends are the ones that call you out on your shit #and haruka needed Called Out because without it i do so easily see her slipping into a black hole of depression and self loathing #and never coming out again #and no minako had not invited the others yet because she wasn't sure she would get haruka to leave the house #planning for all the options #as she does

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