#it’s not the edit i wanted to do but it’s the edit i did

[racewinnerlandonorris]

Lando Norris, born 13th November 1999

[royalarchivist]

Etoiles: Guys, can we please– can we please give the $100k to Felipe?

Roier: Eh? What the fu– Ay ay ay ay– pendejos! Don't speak English, ok? Español. ¡Español!

Etoiles: Uh, uh, uh– [Singing] ¡Un, dos, tres!

Roier: [Also singing] Un, dos, tres, un pasito pa'lante María–

Phil: [In despair] ¡Inglés! Por favor!!! 😫

Roier: No, Inglés no, Inglés no. 😌

Phil: Inglés, por– 😭

Roier: Aqui Español, aqui Español. 🇲🇽 🇲🇽 🇲🇽

[pathologicalreid]

falling flat | s.r.

in which you call Spencer for help with a flat tire, and he comes to help with you car troubles - and then some

margovember

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: allusions to the reaper, car trouble, blood, tetanus vaccine, kindergarten teacher!reader, flirting, protective!spencer, takes place following 5x22 "the internet is forever", hastily edited word count: 1.87k a/n: rahhhh an old prompt from may 2024 that ended up working for a margovember request rahhh.

The absolute last place you wanted to be was on the side of the road, in the middle of nowhere Virginia, with a flat tire. You weren’t entirely helpless until your tire jack broke, sending metal flying everywhere and cutting your hand open.

You slumped down next to your car, pulling your phone from your pocket before calling the first people you could think of. Every single one of them ended up going to voicemail. Some of them didn’t even let it get past the first ring before declining your call—traitors.

With your thumb hovering over the call button, you thought of Spencer. He had a PhD in engineering, but you weren’t entirely sure that would come in handy in this instance. It was late, almost midnight, and you weren’t even sure he’d answer.

At this point, what choice did you have?

As the phone rang, part of you hoped he wouldn’t answer. When he asked you about it the next time you saw him, you’d wave it off as a butt dial and he’d be none the wiser.

“Hello,” he said through the phone, leaving your plans quashed.

This was awkward, you had been on four dates with the guy over the span of two months, and now you were calling him in the middle of the night. “This isn’t a booty call,” You blurted, cringing inwardly and banging your head back on the passenger door of your car.

Spencer laughed lightly, “I didn’t think it was, what’s going on?”

“I didn’t wake you up, did I?” You asked, his job had a lot of long hours, and you didn’t want to bother him if he was catching up on sleep. If he was even home, “Wait, where are you?”

There was a rustling on his end of the call, “No, I wasn’t asleep, I’m at work. We just got off of a case.”

You let out a sigh of relief, at least you weren’t being a total nuisance. “Sorry, I don’t mean to bother you. I just… my tire blew out on the highway and my jack broke and no one else is answering their phone,” you told him, verging on rambling.

“You’re kind of cutting out, where are you?” He asked, he sounded concerned, and if there was a moment where you weren’t sure you still had feelings for him, it was fleeting.

Looking to either side of you for a mile marker, you stood up, looking at the ground so you didn’t step on any metal, “I don’t really know. There aren’t any signs, I’m somewhere on 28, I think?”

Spencer cleared his throat, “Do you have your location on your phone?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I have enough service to check it,” you said, all you could see were trees.

You could hear him talking to someone, holding the receiver away from his mouth, “That’s fine, I’ll have someone look, just stay on the phone.”

It would seem that dating someone in the FBI does have its perks, “Oh, cool.” You overheard Spencer explaining your situation to someone, hearing the other person in the room say something about Reid’s girlfriend and you couldn’t help but smile. The two of you were very unofficially official.

“Hey, I’ll be there in half an hour,” An elevator dinged in the background. “Is that alright?”

You hummed, leaning your hip against the front of your car. “I mean, I’m not planning on going anywhere.”

Another ding of the elevator, “Will you do me a favor?”

In exchange for this? You’d do just about anything within the realm of legality, “Name it.”

“Get in your car and lock the doors,” he responded. “Turn your hazards on because right now you’re a sitting duck. If someone doesn’t see your car, they could hit you.”

As a favor, he was asking you to make sure you’re safe, “Okay, I’m getting in now, should I leave the car running?”

You heard the sound of a car lock disengaging through the phone, “As long as the cooling system on your car is in good shape, it shouldn’t be a problem to leave it running while you wait. Just remember what I told you about the hazards.”

Nodding despite the fact that he can’t see you, you got in the car, turning the key in the ignition before pushing the button for your hazard lights, “Okay, I’m in the car.”

“I can’t drive and be on the phone at the same time, but I’ll be there soon. Don’t unlock the doors for anyone except for me,” he told you, and you thanked him for his help before hanging up and settling yourself in your driver’s seat.

You pulled the hoodie you kept stashed in your car over your head, your school mascot—a panther—proudly displayed in the front, and made sure your car doors were locked. If you said you weren’t a little unnerved, you’d be lying to yourself.

Spencer had a worrisome job; it was something you were aware of before he ever asked you on that first date. It became alarmingly obvious to you when he revealed that he’d been shot a few months prior, which was an appropriate second-date conversation with an FBI agent. It made sense to you that he’d be concerned about you, in your idle car, on the side of the road, but you wondered if there was a case that he was thinking of. Someone with a flat tire who had met an untimely demise.

Shuddering, you turned up the heat in your car, flipping through radio stations until someone knocked on your window. You jumped at the noise, hitting your head against the roof of the car before looking outside to see Spencer. Sighing in relief, you unlocked your car door, and he opened it for you, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Is your head alright?”

You peered up at him, casually leaning over your car door. “You cut your hair,” you observed. You’d seen him just last week, where his hair still touched his shoulders, and now it was considerably shorter.

Self-consciously, he reached up a hand and thumbed one of the tendrils, “Yeah, it just got too long—and heavy.”

Resisting the urge to ruffle his hair, your head bobbed, “I like it. Did you do it yourself?”

“You can tell?” He asked, following you around the back of your car to your busted tire. Spencer sets his tire jack down before looking back at you, putting his hands on his hips.

Grinning at him, you shrugged, “I teach kindergarten, I’m basically a professional at noticing DIY haircuts.”

On a towel that you had previously set out, the two of you sat along the side of your car, and you tried to ignore the fact that Spencer still had his weapon holstered. It made sense, he’d come straight from work, but you wondered if there was a reason he didn’t leave it in his car. “Where’s your lug wrench?”

“I can change it myself,” you insisted, “I just needed a different car jack.” You gestured to the pieces of yours that were now all over the side of the road.

Alarm flashed on Spencer’s face, “Nothing fell on you, right?”

You shook your head, “No, just a cut from the metal.”

Holding out your hand, you let Spencer take a look at the cut on your palm. “When was your last tetanus shot?”

Blinking rapidly, you frowned at him, “Uh, when I was in college?”

“That might need stitches,” he responded, letting you take your hand back. “I’ll change your tire, I don’t want you using that hand for anything,” he informed you, pushing the hydraulic jack beneath your car.

Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you watched him take your old tire off, muttering under his breath about how your old jack was practically an artifact, seeing how it literally fell apart under pressure. “How was your case?” You asked softly, fully aware that you were likely opening a can of worms by asking about work.

Spencer’s movements faltered slightly at your question, “It’s closed. We were in Boise,” he answered tactfully, leaving out any case details and cluing you into the fact that he didn’t want to talk about it. “What are you doing out here?”

You sighed, leaning back on your hands and watching him work, “I had a meeting with the other schools in our conference. It’s annual, and this year they happened to pick the school furthest away from mine.”

“Well, I suppose it worked out well that your tire blew out so close to me, then,” Spencer said, swapping out the busted tire for the donut and looking over at you. There was something nervous in his eyes, and you didn’t know if it was related to work or you.

Humming, you tried to watch the tire rather than just watching him, “Is there something bothering you?”

He was tightening the lug nuts on the spare tire, “Are you driving home after this?”

You furrowed your brows, “Yeah, where else could I be going?”

“It’s almost a two-hour drive to your place from here,” he reminded you, his tone laced with concern. “You won’t get home until almost one in the morning,” the displeasure in his voice was plain, but you don’t have anywhere else to go. “Plus, you really shouldn’t travel that far on a spare tire, they’re not made to travel far distances.”

Crossing your arms in front of your stomach, you let your shoulders slump forward, “So, what do you suggest I do? Get a hotel?”

Spencer mumbled something inaudibly, trying to finish tightening the bolts on the tire before sighing, “You can stay with me,” he blushes, a swipe of pink across his cheeks.

Your lips parted in surprise, “Uh, I don’t… I’m not…” you faltered. Utterly failing to come up with a good enough reason to tell him no, “I don’t want you to feel inclined. This isn’t what I was looking for when I called you for help.”

He let the car down, staying quiet while the two of you cleaned up, and Spencer swatted your hand away when you tried to pick things up. “So, you can come back to my place tonight. My work-issued first-aid kit has your name all over it,” he told you, eyes flickering down to the cut on your hand.

“Okay,” you breathed, unable to conjure a reason to refuse his hospitality.

He was grinning at you, hair just barely brushing his eyebrows, “So tomorrow, maybe we can get coffee and drop your car off to get a new tire?”

You smiled back at him, “That sounds great, date number five.”

“You know where you’re going, right?”

“Yeah,” you’d been to his place once to pick him up, “Hey, Spence?”

He turned around, fishing his car keys from his pocket. He looked ready to respond to you, but you pressed your lips to his before he had a chance to speak.

You kissed him softly, whispering against his mouth, “Thank you for coming.”

He chuckled lightly, gently resting a hand on your waist, “Thank you for calling.” 

[gay-dorito-dust]

hopefully tumblr doesnt eat this up again 😭

i was wondering how the batfam would reacted to getting caught watching edits of celebrity!reader

I’m just going to put them in a relationship with Celeb! reader just to make things easier for myself.

Dick doesn’t give a fuck if he’s caught watching edits of you! You’re his spouse of course he’s going to save each and every edit there was of you because it’s be a crime if he didn’t.

He’ll even show you the ones where he thinks you’re the hottest in shamelessly with a smile. He honestly can’t get enough of the edits that his FYP is filled with them and snippets of interviews that transition to the edits as well.

Dick has no shame in being caught because why would he? You deserve to have a thousand of edits in your name and Dick has one too many edits saved in his phone, so much so that your surprised his phone still somehow has storage for the next wave of edits that he’ll be saving should he deem them worthy.

‘Babe come look at this edit of you! You look hot!’ Is the most often used when Dick is showing off an edit of yourself to you in hopes of getting your opinions on it. You don’t mind people making edits, especially didn’t mind them now when Dick would shout ‘my spouse is fucking gorgeous! God damn’ out of seemingly nowhere.

You’re not even surprised when his Lock Screen is a live wallpaper of the edit itself, dick really didn’t have any problems showing you off in any capacity at all.

Jason is either calm with being caught or he’s wanting to strangle Roy because who else is going to rat him out to you about watching edits of you other than him?

‘Chipmunk I can explain-‘ Jason would start.

‘There’s no need, I know you watch edits of me sweetheart there’s nothing to be ashamed of at all.’ You tell him as you cuddle up to his chest. ‘It’s complete fine I’m not going to shame you in watching them, I think it’s flattering that you do.’ You add and Jason couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as he held onto you, kissing your forehead.

‘It’s not my fault you’re perfect and the edits happen to capture that beauty sweetheart.’ Jason replied and you couldn’t help but chuckle as you looked at him sweetly, not knowing how much more you could possibly love this beautiful man as much as you could, especially when his cheeks flush with a red colour while he scratched his nose sheepishly.

You didn’t mind that he was watching edits and while he was glad about that he was more than certain to watch them elsewhere, more specifically away from Roy before he can rat on him…again.

Tim is terrified the moment you catch him watching edits of you, so much so that he completely forgot to pause the edit as you stare at each other, accompanied by music playing in the background.

It’s hilarious to you but embarrassing to poor Tim who believes that you’d see him as a weirdo for watching them, but all you do is laugh and kiss the side of his head before fiddling his hair affectionately. ‘Watching edits of me are you? And here I thought you couldn’t get more adorable Timmy.’ You tease as you kiss his cheek.

‘You’re not weirded out?’ He’d ask, holding his phone to his shirt, not wanting you to know that he was more or less the one making them rather than watching them. He’s literally got several usb drives worth of edit material to make, no joke.

‘Nope just flattered.’ You replied before leaving Tim be before he passes out from embarrassment. Little did you know he’s making about ten more edits as we speak, all of which have to be perfect and he’ll watch them ten times over if he must, for no specific reason at all.

Bruce is just admiring his beautiful/ handsome spouse. That is all.

Alfred would’ve most likely told you that he’s been watching edits of you when you’re away. It’s adorable and you couldn’t help but smile at how your handsome boy has an hidden file on the bar computer dedicated to your edits. (Dick and Tim found it by pure accident and dick couldn’t hope but tell you about it.)

Needless to say you won’t see him watch the edits but you’ll hear from everyone else that he watches them and that about the closest you’ll get to catching him in the act of watching edits honestly. However don’t be surprised when you see a video from Stephanie of her filing Bruce somewhere as he watched the edits of you on the big screen of the bat computer, his eyes filled with pride and awe of his pretty/ charming spouse looking so effortlessly ethereal.

While you might not have caught him in the act yourself, you still found yourself smiling at Bruce smiling up at the edits of you -and sometimes him because you’re a power couple- as a warmth encased your whole being, buts that’s more than enough for you as it can act as your own little secret.

Damian is good at keeping his little secret safe, so you seeing him watch edits of you were slim to none, and even if you did you catch him in the act you would have to have been blessed by Lady Luck herself.

He’s a little embarrassed that you caught him in the act, mainly because he thought he was better than this to let his guard down to be caught in an act like this, then he’ll become irritated at the fact that you had came into his own room just to catch him watching edits of you.

‘You’re watching edits of me.’ You said.

‘And? Did you seriously come into my room to tell me that? What happened to respecting my privacy?’ He retorts, arms cross over his chest. He didn’t care that you caught him, he’s just more or less annoyed with his privacy being violated.

‘Sorry my sweet I should’ve knocked, but you haven’t answered my question.’ You apologised with a little hug and a kiss to his forehead and Damian found himself forgiving you in an instant as he brought you back into a short lived hug, hiding his flustered face in the depths of your neck, tightening his grip on you.

‘Tim hacked my phone.’ He says in response and you just let it slide, knowing that he’ll admit to it sooner or later and not when he’s being cornered into talking. You knew he watched the edits because he’s totally infatuated with his spouse and Damian knew it too, but wouldn’t dare tell you until this moment has passed you both by.

So until then he’ll watch the edits in secret because he can’t get enough of how gorgeous you looked in them.

[impactrueno]

Beetlejuice clearly wasn't interested in Lydia when they met, so when do you think he actually fell for her? Was he so impressed by Lydia defeating him that he developed a little crush?

i think this might be the biggest thing i've been turning around in my head since the sequel dropped. how did bro get to this point. i need to know. you weren't like this where we left off, what happened during that huge time gap????

this is where canon ends and conjecture begins, you just have to theorize and fill in the gaps yourself with whatever makes the most sense to you, which is what i've been trying to do this whole time. so please bear with me here.

i don't know how much i want share or save for my comics because i don't know how much he would actually reveal about this but whatever we ball

edit: ok so i scrolled back up to this after finishing writing this and as it turns out i have no self control and i ended up sharing everything that crossed my mind. craziest stream of consciousness i've ever written down. strap on and keep your limbs inside the ride at all times. whatever. we BALL.

let's review their first encounter from his point of view:

you're hired to scare the deetzes, right? so you do just that. excellently you might add. just when you're about to terrorize their teenage daughter, barbara banishes you and the party is over. what fucking losers right? you get the sense that adam and barbara care about this girl so you make some remark about her and it pisses them off. haha. also whoa where did this place come from? damn adam, who could've guessed he had it in him. you forget about everything else and dance your way to dante's inferno room.

after spending a respectably tasteful evening with those ladies, you're chill now. relaxing under your little sun lamp to work on your tan.

someone walks in looking for adam and barbara. don't they know they're dead?

"are you a ghost too?"

"i'm the ghost with the most, babe."

hold on a sec, who's even—

...well hey. it's the girl.

the girl who can see ghosts, and she's talking to you.

target acquired. this one's your ticket out of this hellhole.

"you look like somebody i can relate to," you tell her. relate how? doesn't matter. you're ensnaring her with your affable demeanor like you always do, make people feel like you're pals with them first and foremost. she seems like a nice girl, so this should be easy. you tell her upfront that you want to get out of there and you need her help to do so.

"i want to get in," she says.

whoa there.

what? she wants to get in? she says that in response to you saying that you wanted out. she really has no idea what it's like on the other side, huh. but shit, that kinda stops you in your tracks a bit. this girl wants to die. this young? that's not right. makes no sense.

"...why?"

she just looks at you and says nothing. jesus. ok maybe it's none of your business so let's back it up. you're losing control of the conversation and you're on a mission here. you figure if she helps you get out, you might as well talk her off that ledge or show her how shitty it is on the other side or somethin'. frankly, you can't afford to care right now. you're not entirely sure why she thinks things would be better on the side you're so desperate to get out of, but alright. doesn't matter, right now you gotta get her to summon you. so you begin your little game of charades.

after she correctly guesses your name and almost says it a third time, she recognizes you as the snake that terrorized her family. god fucking dammit. you're losing her. you're getting impatient. your affable act is over. "nah...i want to talk to barbara," she says and now she's REALLY getting on your nerves because fuck barbara, fuck adam, you're SO CLOSE to getting out and you're not gonna let this go now, go go GO GO SAY IIIIIIITTTTTTT

adam and barbara walk in because of course they do. womp womp

ok well that didn't work, but you're not gonna give up so easily. sooner or later another opportunity will come and soon you will be free.

wait why are they moving the model— where are they taking it—

ooohhhhh. business meeting. get a load of these yuppies, trying to turn winter river into a town-sized Ripley's Believe it or Not. a talking marcel marceau statue? and you thought you were a con man. no wonder the deetz girl wants to die, it's bleak as hell here too. but if you get out...you can fix that. hell, you can fix anything.

these bozos are here to see some ghosts, but the girl says they're not going to show up unless the fleshbags stop making a mockery out of the whole thing and that maybe they can all live happy together in the house. ain't that sweet.

of course no one's taking her seriously. she's a kid, what does she know, right? they'd rather listen to the most obnoxious guy in the room (besides yourself) who has no idea what the fuck he's talking about, but somehow, he's got his hands on the handbook.

the girl panics, then immediately says completely deadpan "wait, what am i even worried about, otho, you can't even change a tire" and you're surprised they didn't hear how hard you cackled at that.

despite all that, they seem to have started a séance with their old wedding clothes. bad news for the maitlands. they're about to be dead-dead. the girl cries for them to stop, and these guys are just sitting there scared shitless. you're hearing everything. you knew a new opportunity would arise, so you wait, because this is the part where people remember how good at your job you are. they always do.

she knows you can help. you're the only one who can help. so here she comes. those wedding clothes give you an idea. plan B is now in motion.

well well well.

look who came crawling back.

she asks for your help, and you're happy to oblige, under one condition of course. after all, you don't do anything for free, and she's the only one who can help you with your problem. how serendipitous.

once again, you lay it on her, straight up. you want out. and a way to do it (thanks adam and barbara for the reminder) is through marriage with a fleshbag. you need to get married. a green card marriage, if you will.

she's immediately disgusted by the idea. you don't take that personally, of course, because it doesn't matter. she's just a kid and it's not a real marriage. she just happens to be unlucky enough to be the only one around who can assist you with this, the poor girl. it's a marriage of convenience—or rather, inconvenience—and you're not planning on sticking around because you will get the hell out of there as soon as you can. so there shouldn't be a problem, right? besides, does she know how many women would kill to be in that position? she gets to brag about it to her friends, what's not to like? it's a totally even deal.

the clock is ticking and the maitlands aren't getting any younger. she agrees to the deal. you win, at last.

she already knows what to do, so you sit there patiently with a shit-eating grin on your face, awaiting the three little B words. gloating.

Beetlejuice........Beetlejuice...........Beetlejuice.

it's showtime.

this is your favorite part. you love a dramatic entrance. you decide to show the deetzes and their greedy friends the circus they so wanted to turn this town into. horrible as you are, you're also pretty damn good at calling out other people's horribleness, and you do love an ironic karmic way of dealing with someone. for example tubby here thinks he can escape, but not before you change his sleek black suit into a tacky white leisure suit. the horror! this is why you're a professional at this.

you effortlessly end the exorcism and the maitlands are saved. a little pruney right now but they'll be fine. everything is taken care of, you have fulfilled your end of the deal like you promised. only one thing left to do.

"shall we?"

there's really no need to make a whole show out of this, but you're a showman first and foremost and as a 𝒥𝓊𝒾𝓁𝓁𝒾𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒶𝓁𝓊𝓂 you'll be damned if you're not gonna let yourself have a little fun with this. everyone looks terrified. this is why you're a professional at this.

witnesses and reverend in place, you can finally begin the ceremony. you're having fun, yes, but let's try to pick up the pace a bit, okay? the closer you get to your goal, the more impatient you get. the girl isn't finding any of this very funny at all and she protests. the maitlands butt in and are now kind of twisting your arm a bit, but you deal with them harmlessly, until they get on your last nerve so you send adam to the model and barbara to saturn. all of this after you honorably fulfilled your end of the bargain and saved the day. jesus christ, are you the only one with some integrity around here or what.

you forget the stupid ring. shit. you're pretty sure you have it on you somewhere, ever since you chopped up delores into pieces for poisoning you. you kept her ring finger as a trophy and as a reminder to never get married again, and yet here you are, but desperate times call for desperate measures. finally, you find the ring (still on her severed finger) and hastily tell your new bride-to-be that delores meant nothing to you. in case she even cares. she doesn't seem to. not even a chuckle? oh well.

almost done with the ceremony. almost there. you're holding the girl's hand with an iron grip to keep her in place as you're about to put that ring on her finger. "i now pronounce you, man and—"

a tiny car crashes against your foot and it catches on fire. you scream. a fucking sandworm crashes into the room through the ceiling. everyone screams. you scream LOUDER.

you're sent back to the afterlife waiting room.

not your first rodeo with a sandworm, but that doesn't make the experience any less shitty. the real annoying part is being in the waiting room again. this could take ages. you're number 9,998,383,750,000 and they're serving number 3 right now. you trick the guy next to you and steal his ticket (number 4) but he's not too pleased about that, so that didn't work.

a long time sitting here it is, then.

movie ends, credits roll.

for reference, that was 1988. winona ryder was 15 when they were filming in 1987 so while lydia doesn't have a confirmed age, i think we can safely assume that she was the same age as winona at the time.

36 years later, it's 2024. or 34 years later, it's 2022. we don't know the exact year because while bob's in memoriam credits scene says 2024 and all the interviews talk about how 36 years have passed in universe as well, there's this other one tiny detail.

jeremy's death passport says he died on march 11, 1999. jane butterfield says he died "23 years ago," putting the movie in 2022. they did film it in 2022 so the math is mathing correctly there. given that the in memoriam scene was more of a joke and jeremy's passport is a canon prop in the movie, i'd say 2022 is the canon year the movie is set in. (small sidenote; the passport also has the roman numerals DCLXVI which is 666. cute detail i loved it)

in the sequel, beetlejuice says lydia has been ignoring him for 30 years. i always thought that was curious because outside of this claim, they always specify how many years exactly have passed since. he doesn't say 34 or 36, he says 30. and for his degree of obsession (and the fact that he remembers exactly how many times he's watched The Exorcist) i think he would be counting even the days so i think he did really mean 30 years. so this would mean at least 4 years passed between getting sent back to the waiting room and the beginning of his stalking.

AND NOW that we established all that, we are finally getting to the answer to the question, "when and how did this all start?"

so okay, he spent a while in the waiting room. a lot of time to think. probably replaying the events at the deetzes' in his head over and over, how he got here, where he fucked up, what's he gonna do once he gets out. cursing the maitlands for ruining his plan when he was soooo fucking close. wondering what ever happened to lydia deetz.

lydia deetz, the young girl who told him she wanted to die.

...

is she alright?

i don't think he's capable of feeling guilt, but we can probably argue that he's not entirely heartless. what she said about how she wanted to "get in" must've stuck with him from the way he reacted when she dropped that bomb. she never showed up in the waiting room so he knows she didn't follow through with that. still, he used a vulnerable young girl for his own selfish gain. ironically enough, he knows exactly how that feels, because he also got tricked into marriage and got used for someone else's gain. the difference being that he dealt with that shit with an axe.

much much much to think about for mr. juice.

after years of ruminating in that waiting room, he's finally out and back to the regular day to day afterlife. definitely gets chewed out by juno, maybe forced to do community service or labor or what have you, he basically just needs to clean up his act now. this freelancing shit is becoming more trouble than it's worth anyway.

he's still wondering about lydia deetz. should he check in on her? maybe he should, he's too curious now.

at this point, lydia is now about 19-21 and in college. maybe he manages to sneak into the model one time she's back home for the holidays or something. and oh my god would you look at that, what a beautiful young woman she's grown into. she's radiant. she's happy. she's no longer that gloomy suicidal kid he met in the attic. seems like what she said about the deetzes and the maitlands sharing the house did come true after all.

that's nice. very sweet. good to know.

maybe he wonders if she remembers him and tries to get her attention somehow, give her a little scare for old times sake or whatever. for a brief moment it seems like she saw something and her expression changes, but she shrugs it off and continues on chatting with her two sets of parents. no such luck.

oh well. curiosity sated! and beetlejuice goes back home and doesn't return.

until the next time he returns.

and he keeps coming back to check in on her, telling himself he's just making sure that she hasn't killed herself or something. and he's not above admitting that with every year that passes, she keeps getting more beautiful. and to think they almost got married, huh.

he constantly tries to get her to notice him somehow, and sometimes she almost does, but ultimately he never really succeeds beyond making her do a double take. very rarely she does catch a glimpse of him. he's seen her mutter to herself that she's just seeing things and she seems a bit frightened every time this happens, but there's nothing to fear, honey, it's just good ol' beetlejuice. he won't lie, he gets a bit of a rush every time and it makes his dead heart beat faintly. he's gotten this far, he can't just stop now. in his mind, this has become their little private game of cat and mouse, where the mouse ignores the cat. but aren't they cute? he thinks they're cute. this is not creepy at all!

before he realizes, he's already learned everything about her. he knows about richard and even watched their wedding from afar like a loser. he knows she gave birth to a healthy baby girl named astrid. he knows they have a blast on halloween. halloween is lydia's favorite holiday, and his too. sometimes he can't help but see the three of them happy together and think it could've totally been him. even if he and richard are nothing alike (in fact could not be more opposite) and the circumstances of their unholy wedding were nothing short of grim and a farce. but in his mind, he's starting to convince himself otherwise.

maybe it's his jealousy speaking, but lydia doesn't seem to be that happy with richard despite everything. even though richard is like, the perfect guy. then one day his suspicions are proven correct: neither of them knows why it happened, but after having a long and emotional talk (that he watched with a bucket of popcorn) they decide to get a divorce. he pumps his fist, feeling victorious for some reason. sure he's a little sadistic at times, but why is this giving him so much glee?

the divorce is hard on lydia's kid, who was always more attached to her father, but they still spend a lot of time together. sometimes the three of them, since richard and lydia kept things amicable after the divorce. lydia tries to move on and see other people, but each relationship fails before it even starts. mostly because she keeps holding back and so fails to connect with anyone else, but also sometimes because, well, he can't help himself but to scare them away from her from time to time. it's fun. in his mind, he's just being protective of her, as a gentleman should for a lady.

then richard dies. fell into a piranha infested river from the looks of it (he saw him at immigration one day, don't ask what he was doing around there, force of habit after constantly making sure lydia hasn't killed herself yet.) it's devastating for both lydia and astrid, straining their relationship even more for the next few years as they both try to cope with the loss. the shock proves to be too much for lydia, so she goes to a survivors retreat to work through her trauma, both from richard's death and "unresolved feelings."

then lydia, at her most vulnerable, meets rory.

beetlejuice was able to clock him immediately. a textbook manipulative opportunist, he himself knows the tactics very well. swoop in to "help" someone in a vulnerable position, pull the wool over their eyes and begin taking control so you can get what you want out of that person.

he wouldn't admit it, but this really irks beetlejuice. you know when you see someone who reminds you of the worst parts of yourself, so you despise them? yeah. he's been there, and he's also been him.

but rory is somehow even worse than beetlejuice. see, rory is her manager, and boy does he manage to get on his nerves. he takes her phone. he controls what medication she takes. he blames and guilt trips her about every mishap that HE causes, making himself look like her benevolent savior and making her feel like she would be lost without him, confusing her with his psychobabble. on top of all that, he's forcing her to do this hacky show called Ghost House where she "hunts ghosts" or whatever. the houses he's been helping newly-deads with in his day job as a bio-exorcist (now with a fleet of employees,) she's "hunting" those ghosts now. it's so dumb. it never works. beetlejuice doesn't even know what the hell she's doing, she's phoning it in most of the time and she knows she's become a sellout. what happened to that "strange and unusual" girl who stood up for her ghost friends when those suits wanted to profit off of them back in winter river?

he needs to bring that back. he's the only one who can.

in his mind, beetlejuice has already rewritten the events that transpired. in his mind, lydia has been his wife this entire time, it's just, y'know, one of those open long distance relationships and she doesn't always remember him, but that's okay. in his mind, they share a psychic bond that allows her to sense his presence or see him in her dreams from time to time. he's got nothing to be jealous about, because other men can't compare. no one else can match what they have.

sure, part of him knows he's lying to himself a little bit. but he's already clung to this idea; these past 30 years wouldn't make sense otherwise. he's in love with lydia deetz. this isn't insane of him to say at all. and if it is, well, you know what they say, love makes you do batshit crazy things.

it's not that complicated, no matter what they say you'll never meet another me it's not that difficult to get my head around i'll never meet another you

the end

don't trick me into writing a fanfic again

[strawberryangelx08]

i’m late to this post but fr it doesn’t have to be a proship post but when on tik tok when someone is simping for a fictional character the comments will be like

“hard drive check”

“okay drake or diddy”

“kid diddler”

“pedo”

like bruh!? stfu it’s a damn character it’s not real and yes you can find it weird but don’t compare it to a crime and a mental disorder

and when others tell people on the internet that pedophila is also a mental disorder while being a crime as well and you shouldn’t be saying that to anyone without actually prove they did something to a real minor or have possession of child exploitation

some of them will be like “well they’re a pedo”

buddy them making a ship edit or drawing fan art or posting art of a character is nowhere near the same as a crime/mental disorder

if they don’t experience this behavior then leave people alone and go after actual predators since they want to be Chris Hansen so bad

also this proves right here that the word pedo has become like an stupid insult you can throw onto someone

okay for context:there is this proshipper who was a minor and had made an intro post and their dni was literally reasonable it was adults dni and pedos dni

tell me why did this dumbass here said

“uh why is the dni something you attract” something like that

and when i told them it would be reasonable for a minor proshipper to not want adults interacting with them if they’re uncomfortable with

and especially pedos!

like so basically what you’re saying you want adults or actual predators to interact with minors because they’re doing stuff within fiction?

do antis think sometimes before they type

(clearly not)

and when i told them fiction can affect reality but only if someone is weak minded to believe fiction is real and gave them examples all they did was replied with “yap”🤓

if this was an minor who was an anti had an dni list like that then the comments wouldn’t be questioning their dni list

literally double standards it’s so stupid

if you’re questioning why proship darkship comship minors don’t want adults or actual predators interacting with their page then please stay away from kids

let’s be real here most of these people only care about minors if they’re anti and as long as they fit their standards.

anyways i saw this post and immediately wanted to rant.

the word "pedophile" doesn't alarm me anymore.

sounds very bad I know, but it's not like I don't find that in itself alarming!

pedophile is the new "freak" or "loser', it's not taken seriously anymore, it has become just a new word to call people you don't like even when they didn't do anything

yknow the story of the boy who kept yelling "wolf!" to prank the rest of the village, so when an actual wolf came no one listened and he was mauled? that's what that is.

by reducing such a serious issue to "erhm i dont like this person or their content so they must like kids!", you're actually harming victims and making it harder for them to be taken seriously

[imaginespazzi]

can we please get a short birthday blurb of them since we basically got a hard launch with the “precious princess” AND how u wrecked us yesterday…

As always with these little blurbs, I wrote this in ~30 minutes (and somehow finished it 10 minutes before Azzi's birthday ended) and didn't edit but hopefully y'all like it and maybe everyone will finally stop yelling at me...

This is obviously fluff but there's a shit ton of underlying sexual tension + alluding to it and also since it's me obviously a warning for swearing lol.

***

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you," a soft voice sings in Azzi's ear and she can't help the soft smile it sparks on her face, "happy birthday dear my Azzi," she sleepily giggles at the possessive preposition as she feels herself being nestled into the arms of a warm body, "happy birthday to you."

"Is it midnight already?" she asks groggily, keeping her eyes shut as she breathes in the scent of all things Paige.

Honestly Azzi had tried -as she often did (and failed) the night before her birthday- staying up, had even picked a loud action movie in the hopes that the sound of it would keep her awake. But in between the feeling of her girlfriend's arms blanketed around her and the calming sound of her breathing in Azzi's ear, she'd been too comfortable to not fall asleep.

"Exactly midnight," there's a smile in Paige's voice as she presses a delicate kiss against Azzi's lips, "happy birthday baby."

Azzi finally opens her eyes to find cerulean blue eyes, gleaming with love and adoration, staring at her as Paige gently strokes her cheeks. And she's sure she'll get a thousand gifts today, from friends, from family, from Paige herself. But no present will top the one that fate itself gave her seven years ago; the girl in front of her -with her silly quirks and beautiful kindness- is Azzi's greatest treasure.

"Thank you," she whispers back, stealing another kiss.

She means to keep it chaste but Paige has other plans, pulling the younger girl flush against her body, slipping her tongue past Azzi's lips as she pushes herself on top of the brunette, grinding their hips together. Kissing Paige is all-consuming, like coming home and going on an adventure at the same time and Azzi thinks she'd be perfectly fine doing this for the whole day.

A whine escapes her lips when Paige pulls away, causing Azzi to chase her lips as she smirks, "patient baby."

"It's my birthday," Azzi pouts, "I don't have to be patient on my birthday."

Paige laughs at the childlike sulking, "you're so precious," she giggles, pinching Azzi's cheeks, "my precious princess."

"People's princess," Azzi corrects as she petulantly looks away.

Paige's eyes darken as she captures Azzi's chin between her thumb and her index finger, pulling the younger girl's face back to face her, "no, my princess."

Azzi gulps at the intensity in the older girl's eyes but she stares at Paige defiantly, "don't look at me like that if you're not going to do it."

"Look at you like what?"

"Don't look at me like you want to fuck me if you're not going to do it," they both suck in a sharp breath at the profanity.

"Silly girl," Paige shakes her head, a smug grin on her face, "of course I'm going to fuck you," she says casually ike it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Azzi's tongue darts out to lick her bottom lip and she's mesmerized by the way Paige's gaze follow the path it takes.

"What's taking you so long then?" she asks coyly, bucking her hips up slightly against the older girl's, who practically whimpers at the action and Azzi can't help but be pleased with herself. Seven years and they both still have this impact on each other; seven years later and they've become experts in known which match can start a fire between them.

And then Paige averts her gaze, facial expression morphing into something much shier as she mumbles, "wanted to give you a gift first."

Azzi raises her eyebrows, unsure why this of all things would make her girlfriend nervous. Paige has given her a plenty of gifts before and Azzi has loved all of them.

"Baby you know I'll love anything you give me right?" she says as much as she gently tries to coax Paige's face back up to meet her.

"I know," Paige says quietly, "this one just uh- it means a little more."

Azzi furrows her eyebrows as Paige slips off their bed -well really it's Paige's bed but considering Azzi sleeps in it every other night, it's basically their bed- and begins to rummage through her nightstand. The brunette sits up from her lying position when she can tell that Paige has found whatever she's looking for. She waits patiently as the blonde sucks in a deep breath before turning back towards her girlfriend.

Azzi doesn't notice the present at first, keeping her focus on giving Paige a reassuring no matter what i love you smile first. And then her gaze drifts downwards and she gasps, eyes widening at the sight of a silver infinity band in a red velvet box.

"Paige-"

"Don't freak out," Paige says in a rush, cutting off whatever Azzi was going to say, "I'm not- I'm not asking you to marry me or anything. Not that I don't want to marry you but like you know- I'm just- I'm not asking yet-"

"Paige," Azzi says again, ignoring the flutter in her stomach as she cuts the older girl's ramble off, "can I see it."

Paige nods, nervously handing over the box so Azzi can inspect it. The infinity band itself is simple, encrusted with small silver crystals and it must've cost Paige a small fortune. But its the the encryption behind it that has Azzi's eyes swelling up with tears, for the half that makes me a whole.

"Today is your birthday," Paige begins again, her voice timid and quiet, "but I think it's a little more than that. For me today's the day my other half was born. Today is the day that the person I was meant to find- the person who'd complete me- was born. And so today, is the most special in the world. Because today is the day that you were born."

Azzi's quiet for a moment, letting herself be immersed in the warmth of Paige's words and the sheer sincerity in them. It's the truth, she knows, that Paige is without a doubt her other half, the person who makes her feel complete.

"I love you," she whispers, as she hands the ring back to Paige and then holds out her hand, "put it on me?"

And she thinks if she could memorize one still image of her life, it would be this one -it would be the way Paige's eyes glow brighter than the moon outside as she eagerly fits the ring onto Azzi's ring finger.

"I love you more," the older girl whispers as she brushes her lips against Azzi's knuckles.

"Not fucking possible," Azzi shakes her head as she launches herself into Paige's lap, arms wrapping around the older girl's neck as she pulls both of them back down onto the bed, "now can you fuck me?"

Paige laughs, "you say the sweetest things to me Azzi Fudd."

"I try," Azzi smirks, pressing her lips against Paige's briefly before she pulls away, the silver ring on her hand glinting in the moonlight as she caresses her girlfriend's cheek, "and just so you know, when you do ask, the answer will always be yes."

Paige grins, pulling Azzi back down to kiss her, "happy birthday baby."

[sharklovingaquarist]

Sooooo as someone going into fields that contain biology I think it's time we talk about how we see it from a fully male perspective. It's gotten to the point for me that I cannot listen to men talk biology, specifically reproduction. When we talk about male competition, we talk about it as "the right to mate". However this sees reproduction as a sentient, default specimen (male) doing to the secondary, inanimate vessel (female). In reality males fight for the CHANCE to win female attention. Females will forever be more selective sexually in the majority of animals. This is because females expend more energy in reproduction (the simple fact eggs are the larger gamete). Even in most fish, where care is commonly paternal, you will find heavy selection on the female side. Females are not fought over like an object to earn or "inseminate" the pure attention we give is what's fought over. Females almost always control their species. Look at tiger endlers. It may seem like the males harass females, but females actually CHOOSE exactly which sperm they concieve with and retain sperm for up to a year (trust me I have SEEN it myself). There's also this notion that males are all about genetics while female is about love or is about being a vessel. That's laughable. Females want their genetics to succeed just as much as males. They just dont have to fight as much because they have the limited gamete, its not a competition to be chosen when the other sex is unlimited. And the way we talk about paternal vs maternal. Paternal animals are all about "self preservation" but maternal animals are robots to their love. Dont get me started on how people act when I tell them my betta males do the incubating. We like to see it as a male competing to spread his genes and not a female choosing to complete her genes with the perfect individual. Every time someone tries to symbolize sex this shit comes into play. Male is the default that uses female as his tool. Be it describing it as penetration, fertilization, and much more. On the topic of "fertilization" did you know that the egg chooses the sperm? Did you know eggs are more complex than sperm? Did you know that eggs are not infertile without a sperm they just arent a embryo? We see female as defined by male, made valueable by male. A vessel filled by male. I think it's time for females to realize that nature is actually quite female centered. Hopefully as we get more women in this field, that will change. Because right now I'm starting to learn that a lot of science is worded in a way so males can cope with actually being quite lesser than females and at our disposal.

Edit: thanks for all the attention everyone! I've always wanted a space I could talk about this sort of thing. Glad to know I'm not alone on this. Trying to be in this field as a feminist can be insufferable

[hannie-dul-set]

IT’S NOT WORTH TRYING TO LEARN OTHER PEOPLE’S LOVE LANGUAGES.

p — MYUNG JAEHYUN x fem! reader. g — humor, fluff, park sungho learns a lesson about minding his own business. w — swearing, death threats (as a form of flirting). 1.5k words.

requested by — @gluion “go kill yourself x “i’m pretty sure they have a crush on me”

note — part of my ship dynamics: insane edition gimmick. this is very the breakup soup coded. i just like writing about a bunch of idiots stressing about the dumpster fire love life of their friend. enjoy.

myung jaehyun’s friends are pretty sure he’s had a very stable, very loving, very normal upbringing.

“stop staring at me, you fucking creep.”

“sorry, i didn’t mean to make your heart flutter. can’t help it when you’re so pretty.”

“i’ll stab your fucking eyes out.”

“my eyes are all yours, pretty.”

so they can’t wrap their head around why he’s acting like he has not a single ounce of self-respect in his body. sungho and leehan watch as their pitiful friend gets shut down again by the most venomous glare, hostile sneer, deflected by the biggest pair of heart eyes in the world that’s ever longingly following your disappearing figure out the library door. “she wants me so bad,” he concludes with a self-righteous smile as he arranges his notes into one neat stack. sungho and leehan share a look. god almighty, please grant their friend wisdom and salvation.

“what...what makes you say that?” sungho attempts to prod. the first step to finding a solution is to figure out the situation. they need to know why myung jaehyun is so down bad for you, and why he’s so convinced that you feel the same way.

“huh?” jaehyun perks up. like he’s genuinely confused sungho has to ask that. “she was so flustered earlier. couldn’t you tell? it was adorable.”

“she threatened to mutilate you…?” 

jaehyun beams. “she sure did.”

there...there is no point trying to understand him, sungho concludes. leehan is, for lack of a better word, getting mildly frustrated. “hyung, what the hell?” he raises. “if telling someone you want them dead is an indication of romantic feelings, then my middle school bullies must’ve been head over heels for me.”

a silence. a pause. “we’ll unpack that later,” sungho tells him. then shifts his attention back to problem child number one. “you. you’re a grown man who has full autonomy over his actions and feelings, and i know that. but as your friend, i just can’t keep watching you being disrespected, jaehyun. i can’t help but get angry on your behalf when you greet her good morning and alll she does is tell you to go fuck yourself!”

admittedly, sungho got a little bit heated at the end there. but he has every right to feel this emotion on behalf of his dense and seemingly unaffected friend— who is still sitting there, a smile on his face, hands on his lap like a patient buddha who has learned the true meaning of peace and serenity.

“sungho-yah,” jaehyun starts with a pleasant hum. “there’s no need to worry. the feeling is totally mutual. i’m telling you, she likes me back.”

speechless.

in fact, sungho and leehan are beyond speechless. they have no idea where this ungrounded certainty comes from. they certainly have even less of an idea on how to fix his lovesickness, bordering on insanity.

so, reasonably— they call for backup.

“the only way for him to get his shit together is if he asks her out for real and finally gets rejected for good,” taesan declares confidently. somehow, they see a point. riwoo lets out an echo of agreement. woonhak asks why they’re all excluding jaehyun from this after school garage meeting. “do you guys know when he’s planning on doing that?”

“no idea,” leehan answers. “but maybe we can pressure him into it.”

“so, should we encourage him instead of telling him to give it up?” sungho raises. taesan affirms. sungho lets out a grunt and a huff. “god, that’s gonna be tough.”

a resounding voice of dissent arises from woonhak. “i don’t get why you’re all going against jaehyun-hyung!” he yells indignantly. “let hyung love whoever he wants! this is a free country! you guys can’t dictate his love!”

“he’s received fuck you’s straight in the face and swears she’s flirting, woonhak. you’re too young to understand.”

it’s four votes against one. woonhak can’t win against his hyung’s determination to save myung jaehyun from his self-dug pit of pitifulness that he’d been in ever since laying eyes on you at the freshman orientation. god, they never should’ve went. he never should’ve shot down jaehyun’s suggestion to just skip it. maybe then, myung jaehyun would still be normal.

but this is not the time to lament and regret. it’s time for sungho to right his wrongs. it’s time to bring jaehyun’s self-respect back, they decide. and it starts with a wake-up call in the form of your inevitable, brutal rejection. 

which, for some reason, does not happen as planned.

“what?”

“we’re going on a date.” jaehyun is as chipper as ever and sungho’s ears are starting to ring. “thanks for the encouragement, sungho!”

it’s ringing. it’s ringing so badly. “wait, what do you mean you’re going on a date?” he attempts to clarify, grabbing jaehyun by the shoulders because this is two-parts concerning, one-part kind of…proud? this guy actually succeeded? “she said yes? she didn’t tell you to fuck off and die in a hole?”

“she did. she looked pretty while saying it.” jaehyun answers with a bright grin. nevermind. this is all parts concerning. sungho “she also told me she’d kill me if i pick her up late after her class tomorrow. we’re going to have dinner at the thai restaurant that just opened. riwoo recommended it.”

sungho does not understand. he cannot understand because you, who seems to hate all of myung jaehyun’s guts for no discernible reason, agreed to go on a date with him? hello? has jaehyun been right this whole time? do you really reciprocate his feelings? or is this just some new form of torture? is his friend a masochist? is he the weird one for making a big fucking deal out of this? is this how relationships work nowadays?

a thought enters sungho’s mind.

hold on a second—

“anyway, i gotta go, dude. a pretty girl is waiting for me.”

—what if this date is a ploy for you to finally get the chance to kill him?

oh my god.

“wait!” sungho’s face is pale. his eyes are wide and frantic. “don’t—don’t go on the date!”

“hm?” jaehyun bats his eyes at him, taking a moment to think. then sparkles in realization. “oh! don’t worry. i’m not gonna show up looking like this. i’m gonna head home first to change.”

“that’s not the problem! jaehyun! no! no!”

this is it, his friend is going to die. that is, unless, he shows up on your date just in time to stop it. yes. there’s still a chance. he knows where the date is happening. he’s gonna tell the rest of them because there’s no way in hell they’d allow myung jaehyun’s cause of death to read stupidity by misconstruing your murderous intent as affection. they are not only going to save jaehyun’s life— but his dignity as well.

“remember, be quiet. be inconspicuous. they can’t figure out we’re here.”

hopefully, things go as planned this time. all five of them are gathered in a booth at the said thai restaurant, the eventual scene of the crime unless they do something about it. sungho is surveying the scene to find where you and jaehyun are seated. leehan nearly trips over his unnecessarily long trench coat while trying to cover more ground. woonhak is using the menu as cover but has since gotten distracted and has started to pick out his order with riwoo and taesan. “hyung, is the khao soi good?”

“yeah, we should order it.”

“what drinks should we get?”

this is hopeless. this is a mess. their best friend is about to die and all they can think about is dinner.

no matter. sungho can still take care of this himself. his eyes scan the main restaurant wing, from left to right, until his eyes double over in a screeching halt to the back of a very familiar round head—

“huh.”

the back of a very familiar round head that doesn’t seem to be facing the threat of decapitation.

sungho sees you and jaehyun sitting across from one another, jaehyun’s fairly loud voice raising over the music and utensils clattering, people chatting and passing by. “you’ve got something on your face.”

“touch my face, and i’ll kill y— hey!”

first of all, sungho wants to claw his own eyes out seeing his friend being disgustingly sweet. second, jaehyun did touch your face with a napkin and it does not seem like you’re attempting to murder him. in fact, you look flustered even. flushed despite the harbored glare, still seated despite your apparent derision and disgust. the back of jaehyun’s head looks exceedingly happy. the dots aren’t connecting. sungho is malfunctioning. 

“should…should we interfere…?” leehan asks, his nose barely peeking out of the trench coat collar.

“i think...i think we should just leave them alone.”

“but isn’t his life in danger?”

“i misunderstood.”

forget misunderstanding. sungho can’t even behind to understand in the first place and has settled that he wouldn’t even try so long as myung jaehyun is happy— happy with being on the receiving end of fuck you’s and go to hell’s in response to his you’re so pretty’s and see you tomorrow’s, happy with getting his advances swatted away and shut down, happy with whatever the fuck is going on between you and him that sungho really can’t just wrap his head around.

IT’S NOT WORTH TRYING TO LEARN OTHER PEOPLE’S LOVE LANGUAGES. © hannie-dul-set, 2024.

[kindaasrikal]

I remember seeing a post about Cole having to cook in Dragons Rising because between him and Geo, Cole is the better cook whilst Geo is the better artist in some official book or smth and like

Where tf did artist Cole go

WHERE DID HE GOOOOO WHERE DID ALL OF HIS DRAWING SKILLS DISAPPEAR

No to mention all the head canons (which were canon, as during the early seasons Cole made them all food once and Jay and Kai complained about how it literally glued their mouth shut) were thrown out the window. But it is interesting to see that Cole has apparently learnt how to cook over the years because that is adorable. I can see Zane giving him late night lessons.

To be perfectly honest maybe i do want to see Cole borrowing Zane’s pink, frilly apron to cook

Maybe Geo just has terrible taste buds. That is also an option.

Edit: maybe he’s just in a very long art block guys

[levandright]

𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆

their favorite way to show their love for you is through — giftsꜝꜝ

if you enjoyed reading this consider leaving a like or reblog ᐢ..ᐢ

pairing ⋆ ot7 enhypen x gn! reader ʬʬ content / warning(s) ⋆ extra extra soft fluff, established relationship, non-idol au, just enha spoiling you with gifts <3 ꕀ word count : 1,637 ʬʬ go back to the start? ᐢ..ᐢ lev notes : i wrote the whole thing with good thing by nct 127 on repeat and i think it did something to my brain. after making this i now want someone to gift like the boys do- cause the hell man :(( i envy their relationship its so cute T-T (i literally wrote this) thx for proofreading and editing this again twin <3 (gotta make sure twin gets their recognition)

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 - plushies

you come home to find a familiar pink gift bag sitting on your bed, decorated with little hearts and a note in heesung’s handwriting: “a little something for your collection—hope they make you smile! - hee”

excitedly, you peek inside, immediately spotting the cute sanrio tags and soft pastel colors. you pull out not one, but three adorable plushies—my melody, cinnamoroll, and hello kitty, each one perfectly cuddly and looking up at you with their iconic smiles.

just as you’re hugging my melody close, heesung steps into the room, a shy grin on his face as he watches your reaction. “i couldn’t decide on one,” he admits, scratching his head. “so i figured… why not add a few more friends to your display?”

you can’t stop smiling as you place the plushies carefully among the others on your shelf, each one finding its perfect spot. “they’re perfect,” you say, turning to give him a grateful hug. “you know me so well.”

he chuckles, returning the hug. “i love seeing your face light up every time. besides your collection wouldn’t be complete without the whole sanrio squad, right?”

with a laugh, you look back at the shelf, feeling warm inside. thanks to heesung your little plushie family just got a lot bigger.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 - clothes

you’re scrolling through your phone when you get a text from jay: “check your doorstep!”

curious, you open the door to find a large shopping bag sitting outside. you bring it inside, already knowing who it’s from. as you pull out one dress after another—soft fabrics in different colors, some with delicate lace, others with simple elegance—you can’t help but laugh, imagining jay going through the store and picking each one out.

a moment later, he shows up at your door, grinning like he’s just won a prize. “so, what do you think? i couldn’t decide on just one, so i got you…options,” he says with a wink.

“options?” you tease, holding up a deep blue dress. “jay, you bought out the whole store!”

he shrugs, unbothered. “i just wanted you to have the best. besides, i know you have that event coming up, and i wanted you to feel amazing.”

you shake your head, touched. “you’re too much, you know that?”

he grins, gently nudging you toward the mirror. “go try one on, just to see how perfect you look.”

with a smile, you head to change, grateful for his thoughtfulness and the joy he finds in seeing you happy.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 - perfume

you’re sitting on your bed, flipping through a magazine, when you hear a light knock on your door. “hey, can I come in?” jake’s voice calls out from the other side.

“sure!” you reply, setting the magazine aside. as he steps in, you notice he’s holding a beautifully wrapped box, the corners tied with a silky ribbon.

“what’s this?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

jake grins, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “open it and see!”

you carefully unwrap the box, revealing a stunning bottle of your favorite perfume, the one you always rave about. the familiar shape of the bottle brings an instant smile to your face. “jake! you remembered!”

“of course i did! i always remember,” he says, pride evident in his voice. “i figured it was time to restock your collection. i know how much you love this scent.”

you get up and give him a warm hug, breathing in the comforting mix of his cologne and the fresh scent of the perfume. “you always know how to make me happy. thank you!”

he chuckles, pulling back to look at you. “i just want to make sure you never run out. you wear it so well.”

you shake your head in delight, placing the perfume on your vanity. “i’ll always think of you when I wear it,” you say, feeling grateful for his thoughtful gesture.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 - chocolate

you’re at your desk, sorting through some papers, when you notice a familiar small box tucked beside your things. smiling, you pick it up and read the note stuck on top: “just because. - sunghoon.”

opening it, you’re greeted by the rich aroma of chocolate—a collection of your favorite flavors. dark, milk, hazelnut-filled, and even a few fruit-infused truffles.

it’s the third time this week sunghoon has surprised you with chocolate, each box seemingly chosen with extra care.

later, as you’re enjoying a piece, sunghoon walks in, catching you mid-bite.

“caught you!” he teases, grinning as he leans against the doorframe. “how’s today’s selection?”

you laugh, holding up the chocolate box. “perfect, as always. i still don’t know how you manage to get these here without me noticing.”

he shrugs, looking pleased. “i have my ways,” he says, pretending to be mysterious. then, with a softer smile, he adds, “i just like knowing that you’re never without a little something sweet.”

you smile, feeling warmth spread through you. “well, thanks to you my lovely boyfriend, i’ve never been happier—or more stocked on chocolate.”

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 - jewelry

it’s a quiet afternoon when sunoo shows up at your door with a mysterious grin and a small, velvet box in his hand.

“what’s that?” you ask, your curiosity piqued as he invites himself in and settles onto the couch beside you.

he just smiles, handing you the box without a word. inside, nestled against the satin, is a delicate silver bracelet, adorned with a tiny charm shaped like a star. your eyes widen in surprise as you look up at him. “sunoo, it’s beautiful! you didn’t have to…”

but he’s already lifting his wrist to show you a matching bracelet around his own. “it’s not just for you,” he says, looking at you with a gentle smile. “it’s for us. i found these and thought it would be a nice reminder… something we can both wear.”

a warm blush creeps onto your cheeks as you turn the bracelet over in your hand. “it’s perfect. thank you, sunoo.”

he beams, taking the bracelet from you and gently fastening it around your wrist. “now, every time you see it, you’ll know we’re connected—even if we’re not together.”

you reach out, holding his hand, and squeeze it. “i love it, really. but i love you more.”

he laughs, giving your hand a playful squeeze back. “good, because that’s the part of the gift i’m hoping you’ll keep forever.”

you both sit there, admiring your matching bracelets, feeling closer than ever as the sunlight filters through the room, casting a gentle glow over both of you.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 - flowers

the soft chime of the doorbell echoes through the house, pulling you from your cozy spot on the couch. you rise, curious about who could be at the door. as you open it, a burst of color greets you: jungwon stands there with a bright bouquet of flowers in hand, a broad smile stretching across his face.

“surprise!” he exclaims, presenting the bouquet like a trophy. the flowers are vibrant, a mix of sunflowers, daisies, and wildflowers, their sweet scent filling the air.

your eyes widen, and a smile blooms on your face. “oh, jungwon! they’re beautiful!” you reach out to take them, feeling the warmth of his enthusiasm radiate towards you.

“i thought you could use a little brightness today,” he says, stepping inside. “i know you’ve been busy with work and school, so i wanted to remind you that you’re doing an amazing job.”

you feel a swell of gratitude as you breathe in the flowers’ fresh scent. “you always know how to make my day better,” you reply, feeling the weight of your stress start to lift.

“i just love seeing that smile on your face,” he says, his voice sincere. “you deserve to be reminded how wonderful you are.”

as you arrange the flowers in a vase, jungwon leans against the counter, watching you with a soft smile. “every time you look at them, i want you to remember that you’re loved, no matter how tough things get.”

you glance back at him, your heart warming at his words. “thank you, jungwon . this really means a lot to me.”

he steps closer, wrapping his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “you know i’ll always be here for you, right? just like these flowers, i’ll always try to bring a little color into your life.”

you lean into him, feeling the comfort of his embrace. “i’m so lucky to have you.”

he kisses your temple gently, and you close your eyes, savoring the moment. with jungwon by your side and flowers brightening the room, you know that no matter what challenges come your way, you’ll face them with a smile.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 - sunglasses

riki practically skips over to you, a mischievous grin plastered across his face and his hands hidden behind his back. you give him a curious look, and he finally reveals what he’s holding: two pairs of sunglasses, both sleek and stylish with tinted lenses.

“tada~ matching sunglasses,” he announces proudly, handing you one of the pairs. “i figured it was time to make you as cool as me.”

you laugh, slipping them on. “so, does this mean i get honorary 'riki’s fashion sidekick' status now?”

he nods, adjusting his own sunglasses as he strikes a dramatic pose. “absolutely. now we can both look this good,” he teases, winking at you from behind the lenses.

the two of you step out into the sunlight, instantly feeling like the coolest duo around. you both take turns posing, doing mock runway walks and playfully pointing at each other like you’re celebrities. riki laughs every time you strike a ridiculous pose, clutching his sides with giggles.

eventually, you both settle down, leaning against a wall, still wearing the shades and smiling wide. “i think we should make this our thing,” riki says, nudging you. “matching sunglasses, everywhere we go.”

you nod, grinning. “agreed. it’s our official look.”

perm taglist. @honeychocos @kozumesphone @manaah02 (open)

wyll taglist. @lilly-cherry7 (comment or ask to be added)

©levandright

[midnightmah07]

"A celebration? Really? Why, aren't you so kind. Thank you, I'll make sure to enjoy myself today."

Voice lines under the cut! • template (warning: I edited a few parts to make it look like my character's RSA dorm)

📚: well, birthday or not there's still a ton of work to do! ... although I guess it wouldn't hurt to relax a tiny bit. Just for today.

📚: my most prized possession? Well, those'd be my books! See, lately I've been reading this wonderful one about a bean stock and an ogre and— ah! S-sorry, I'm rambling too much...

📚: Leona actually gave me something besides a simple "happy birthday" message this year, can you believe it? It's a crochet book cover, he said he got it online... It is really beautiful.

📚: Did you know? Me and my mom used to share a birthday. She used to say I was her birthday gift haha! Oh, how I miss her.

📚: birthdays back home were a mix of emotions to say the least... My sisters and I were never too close so that was always awkward... But my dad always made everything better.

📚: is that— no way, you got a big pudding instead of a cake? Ahahah, why thank you! That's actually really funny, but very creative!

📚: Adeline gave me a really beautiful bouquet of flowers, I'm sure my room will smell even nicer in no time!

📚: I usually like to keep my hair in a bun when I go to sleep. Once I tried using some curlers but it looked weird... My hair is more wavy than curly so... It looked a tad bit strange.

📚: my nightgown? Ah, do you like it? I love sleeping in it, it's rather comfortable! Most women in my country tend to sleep in similar nightgowns.

📚: *yawn* ...hm? Sorry, what was that? I'm still a bit out of it, I slept too late last night... Ah, i-it totally has nothing to do with the new book I've got!!

📚: skincare? Hm... I would like to try it sometime but for now I just use a moisturizer. I care about my appearance, yes, but I've never really paid much mind to my skin in this way.

📚: Poppy gave me a crochet lion plushie... With a scar on his eye. *Sigh* is this to make fun of me or something?

📚: "If you poke Isabelle's dimples you'll have luck for 10 years...?" What sort of rumour is that? Hahah! Oh, goodness... Well, if you want to try, you're welcome to.

📚: what's this old looking note...? Oh, it's from Malleus! It's a happy birthday wish, how thoughtful. I had no idea he knew my birthday though... Is this Adeline's doing?

📚: what a delightful day this has been, and all thanks to everyone here. Thank you very much.

Duo magic:

Isabelle: Thanks for the party, Adeline.

Adeline: Happy birthday, housewarden!

[untoldstar]

male yandere! streamer x gn! fan reader

feeding your parasocial relationships🫶

was tempted to make him a username called masonjar but whateves let’s just stick to a classic name.

got inspired by the post I saw by @blood-smiles !

warnings: parasocial relationship (kinda from both sides) jealousy, yandere themes, obsessive behavior.

Mason was an insanely popular streamer the type to have both guys and girls fawning over him, edits of him with people thirsting over his good looks but despite the sheer amount of fans he had, you took the liberty of naming yourself his biggest fan.

somehow you ended up being noticed by him, it started with him noticing you in his streams and comments and then seeing you in every single one of his meet-and-greets. Always wearing his merchandise, your account only had a select few pictures of yourself that drowned in all the posts that centered around him. He couldn't help getting curious, you were just so loyal and obsessed with him that he thought it was adorable.

he started chatting with you, the way you freaked out when he messaged you was so cute, he had a grin stretched on his face the entire time. Because of his active interaction with you you became known to his other fans and gained popularity.

he was having thought of meeting up with you frequently, maybe even a few collabs..this could be a big break for both of you!

but as time went by it seemed like you were just...moving on.

you didn't interact with his socials as much anymore, missed more streams than the ones you watched, even your content started to stray further away from him. You either didn't post as much or you were posting about other low-stream influencers who didn't even compare to him. He was popular, good looking, and skilled. Everyone on the internet loved him and you were lucky enough to get noticed by him and you're just throwing it away?!

he knows it's silly and that he shouldn't care but you were his loyal fan..did it mean nothing?!

truly you were moving on, Mason has a special spot in your heart but your interests were changing. It was a habit of yours where you get obsessively hyper-fixated on something or someone and then hop on to the next thing.

you didn't do anything wrong you honestly thought Mason forgot your existence but the spam messages that filled up your inbox later proved that that is far from the truth.

Mason: so what you just got bored of me huh?

Mason: you were drooling over me just two weeks ago and now you're over here praising someone else?!

Mason: answer me

Mason: why aren't you answering me?!

Mason: are you too busy obsessing over a new guy to even send a text back?

his jaw clenches and his hand shakes from the tight grip he has on his phone as he almost burns a hole into the damn thing from staring at the screen so hard while waiting for you to see your messages.

he gets fed up and sets his phone down and put on his headphones getting ready to start the stream.

he acts normal in front of the camera but his eyes keep sliding down to the comments trying to find you there. He tries to mask it by reading and replying to other people's comments even though he doesn't truly care.

he only wants your eyes to watch him.

your praise.

your devotion.

surely you'll come back to him..won't you?

[fairlyang]

stranger!miguel hitting up pornstar!reader for that rain check or another video idea comes to life. p1 — inspo (half is proofread)

miguel decided to not text you that same day because he’d seem too desperate and although he was, he didn’t want you to know that.

but what he did do was look your channel up on the hub because he had no fucking shame. it was luckily on the same card with your number and he instantly knew searching you up would be a mistake.

he spent damn near hours jerking off to as many videos as he could before he couldn’t handle edging any longer and he came so hard, some of it landed on his mouth while your moans continued filling his ears.

the next day he made his move, texting you and when the message popped up you were so excited. things like this didn’t usually happen to you and it would be fun to have a part two with him..

so you quickly gave him your address and he was speeding to get there, already feeling his shorts getting tighter at the thought of you sucking his dick like you did in your videos. you looked perfect on your knees, like a goddess and he was somehow going to be lucky enough to see that view.

he rang the doorbell and within a few seconds you opened the door, quickly pulling him inside. you pushed him against the door and kissed him, he immediately kissed back without any hesitation.

his hands instantly went down to your ass, groping you to ensure this was really happening. once you moaned into his mouth that was more than enough of a confirmation that it was.

his tongue slipped inside your mouth while he pulled a hand back then smacked your ass. you moaned again and he just ate it up, moaning along with you because you just sounded so fucking good.

his hands went lower, to the back of your thighs and when he mumbles for you to jump, you do. with your legs around his waist, your hands wrapped around his neck it made you realize he had to see where he was going so you pulled away and started kissing down his neck.

he was already breathless as you murmured the directions to your room then going back to his neck, making sure to leave a few marks. he moaned as you sucked on his neck then feeling your warm tongue circling it and he just knew he was already embarrassingly hard.

he walked you both into your room and carefully climbed into the bed then had you laying down. you went back up to kiss him, slipping your tongue into his mouth as he began grinding himself against you. his hard on not only making you groan but also impressing you.

he was already incredibly hard.

his hands went to your hips then coming back up to get a feel of your perfect tits. he squeezed them and it was only at that moment he realized you were only hearing a sweatshirt.

and that was when you realized you don’t even know his name.

you pulled away and let out a chuckle when he went down to kiss your neck, “not too late to ask for your name right, handsome?”

he pulled away, letting out a laugh as he shook his head, “it’s miguel.”

“good to know, now i’ll know what i’ll be moaning.” you murmur and give him a wide grin.

“and while we’re at it, i didn’t post the video.” you say and he raises an eyebrow, “realized it’d be kind of fucked to post without getting your consent.”

he hummed and nodded, “makes sense…”

he thought about it for a moment. what would the odds be that someone he knew would find it… and even if they did, it wouldn’t be the end of the world. he wouldn’t really mind.

and if you did post it he’d just have another video to help him out. hell he wants you to post it for the sole fact that he will get himself off to it.

“you can post it… maybe just blur if my face does pop up.” he says and you furrow an eyebrow.

“you sure? i could always scrap it-“ you start to say and he cuts in, “no! i mean- um- it’s fine, i genuinely wouldn’t mind.”

you fight back a laugh and nod, “okay then, i’ll try to edit it afterwards to post later.”

“then in that case i had another idea for a new video…” you mumble and he hums.

didn’t take much convincing to put the chest harness on him and having a small gopro by his chest as you sucked him off. you were on your knees, on the top of the soft carpet you bought specifically for these types of shoots. except miguel wasn’t a professional but he was doing even better than the ones who were.

he was a big moaner which instantly had an effect an you, not much of a surprise that your arousal was already seeping through the small fabric of the thong you had on.

you were taking as much of him as you could and stroked the rest while making sure to look him in the eyes and not the camera like you usually would.

for videos like this it was always meant to be about the pleasure for the viewer, and to make them come back for more, not the person whose receiving it. but there was just something about him that made you want to see his reaction and for once not caring for the viewers.

so when you already felt him twitching you quickly pulled away making him groan, “fuck- come back baby-“

you were tempted to but decided not to and instead stood up and went to the bed. you laid down on the end of the bed horizontally and brought your sweatshirt over your tits then motioned for him to come.

he quickly walks to you and you grab his cock, slowly stroking it because you wanted to edge him. you spread your legs and his left hand made its way to you, not waiting around and gathering up your slick with the tip of a finger.

he slid a finger in and it went in so easily, you couldn’t even be surprised. you moaned and sped up, looking up at him as he matched your speed. he moaned along with you, those eyes nearly sending him to his grave while he choked on words, “f-fuck- oh baby- you’re so- shit.. i-i-“

he stopped then added a second and third finger, pumping them inside this time without waiting for you. he made sure to go as fast as he could, able to hear your loud moans.

you squeezed your tits to get with your arms, holding onto the right with your right hand and biting your lip at the camera. you gripped his cock a little more and stroked him even faster, quickly feeling him twitch in your hands as his eyes trailed down to watch the way your tits bounced. he was so mesmerized that was where the camera was facing until he snapped out of it and turned his body a bit so the camera would see him fingering you instead.

“look so pretty like this-“ he murmured making you laugh then moan as he curled his fingers up.

he kept curling them after every thrust making you clench onto them and your eyes were rolling back from the pleasure. “so fucking pretty.” he moaned and went back to looking at your face.

you opened your eyes and gave him a smile, “n-not too bad yourself baby.”

his eyes rolled back, and he started twitching in your hand again, “gonna cum for me?” you murmur and he quickly nods.

he was thrusting his hips back and forth while you scor closer to the edge and he stayed still as you slipped his cock inside your cock. you quickly took him down to the hilt then pulled back only to take him down your throat again. “fuckk baby- just like that-“

you moaned against him and he slammed his fingers harder, making your legs shake. you pulled away from and only stroked him, aiming it towards your tits, “please cum for me, want it so bad.” you whined, gorgeous wide eyes just begging for it.

with one final stroke, he groaned and spilled his load all over you. most landed on your tits but some even made it to your tummy. you came around his fingers and felt your entire body shake with a hard hitting orgasm.

a rarity nowadays.

you let him go and he slowly slipped his fingers out of you as you closed them shut, still slightly shaking while he bent down. he was kneeling in front of you, gently caressing your head as you both calmed yourselves down.

you gave the spot next to you a weak pat and he tiredly got onto the bed and he helped turn you so you were now laying on your bed vertically. upside sure, but at least the correct way.

he laid down next to you and you got comfortable laying on his chest as he went back to caressing your head and running a hand up and down your back. you looked up and took a quick peak at the camera, quickly reaching up to switch it off, “they don’t gotta see this.”

[thestrangepoet]

The Furrcinating Adventures of Champion, the Archives Cat | The Magnus Archives Fanfiction | Ch 4/?

Based on @ultramarinaa’s Cat!Martin AU 

CONTENT WARNINGS: None

DISCLAIMER: As per usual, this is an unedited first draft that I haven’t proofread. Forgive any typos and roughness around the edges – I tend not to go back over fanfics, as they’re just a bit of fun writing for me. (I am a full-time professional writer, and if I start telling myself I need to edit and proofread my fanfics, it’ll cease being fun for me.)

← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter →

──── •✧• ────

Martin – no, Champion, for that was who he was now – crept through the institute, his ears flat against his head. 

How long had he been technically missing for now? At least a week, if not more. And no one had notified the police. Not Jon, not Tim, not Sasha. Not his own mother, despite the fact Martin would call her almost daily to check in on her. Not his neighbours nor his…well. He didn’t have any friends outside the institute. 

He didn’t have any friends inside the institute either, it seemed. 

Champion padded past the grand oak reception desk in the front lobby. Almost immediately, his paws left the ground, which drew a purr of surprise from him, his little blue eyes growing wide.

“Oh, Champion! You came to visit me, did you?” 

Rosie, Elias’ assistant, gathered Champion into her arms, her thin, angular face all smiles and framed with bouncing red curls. Everyone’s face was all smiles when Champion arrived. Champion, who did nothing at all to actually help the institute. He couldn’t read properly like this. He couldn’t research, staying up all hours of the night to finish reports. He couldn’t go investigate leads across the country, nor pitch theories for statements. He couldn’t even make a cup of tea like this. 

Martin could do all those things. And not once had he been given a genuine smile in return, not a single sparkle in someone’s eye to say they were actually happy to see him. But as Champion? 

All he had to do was walk on by. 

The first few days, that attention had overjoyed Martin. All he’d ever wanted. But now, it stung, jabbing him in the chest and reminding him that all this fuss wasn’t for him. Not really. 

That people liked him better as a useless cat than a man who tried too hard and apologised for existing. 

“Oh dear, little guy, why the sad ears?” Rosie continued, sitting down and depositing Champion onto the immaculate desk in front of her. “Was Jonathan a meanie to you? Do you want Rosie to accidentally misplace his expenses form this month?” She scratched behind Champion’s ear with a perfectly manicured nail, but he couldn’t even muster a false purr in response. 

Everyone liked him better as a cat. Hell, maybe he was better at being a cat? 

Maybe he should just…stay a cat. Let Martin Blackwood become just another missing person, lost behind a veil of barely asked questions. 

Something stirred under his skin at that thought, like a cold fog rippling through his blood, sending all his fur on end. Champion jolted in shock; all too easily, he had forgotten what he wrestled with here. Sure, being turned into a cat sounded silly enough, but the architect of all this had been a Leitner book. 

Something fed upon his lonely thoughts, caring not for the jovial packaging they came in. 

Champion, now dealing with an alarming amount of adrenaline, leapt from Rosie’s desk and scampered away. He dashed through the corridors, paw pads skidding on the hardwood flooring, his tiny heart hammering away. 

Something fed upon his lonely thoughts…

He practically slid across the Research Department, not stopping even when one of the researchers reached for a bag of cat treats. 

Something fed upon his lonely thoughts! What if it could see him or hear him or—

He bounded through the austere, silent library, not sure what he was running from or if anything was even truly chasing him. But instinct tore through his limbs, too aware now of the sense of some unspeakable shadow prowling after him and delighting in his isolation. 

When the panic finally subsided, Champion had to take a moment to look around the room he’d bolted into. The room loomed around him, gloomy save for one desk light working hard to chase it all away. 

His desk light. 

Champion padded through the archival assistants’ office, wandering past Tim’s empty desk and Sasha’s neglected chair. Was Tim at the station, weaving a story as to why they hadn’t reported their colleague missing sooner? Was Sasha in Elias’ office, distracting him from the whole affair? 

He hopped up onto his old chair at his own desk. He hadn’t been here since the day he’d read that damned book in the first place. Jon’s office took the place of his regular workspace, either curled up on Jon’s lap or snoozing under the radiator. 

Being a cat, admittedly, had been a lot more comfortable than being Martin Blackwood. The temptation to remain like this had, he realised, not been entirely out of spite and anger of the others not being too fussed about Martin’s disappearance. 

It had come from Martin’s own disregard for Martin’s disappearance. Like this, he couldn’t annoy people. He didn’t have to worry about messing up conversations or making a fool of himself. He could stay away from people in that way, yet reap all the benefits of getting affection and having his company be greeted with a smile. 

But…he also couldn’t offer Jon a cup of tea and get to see that momentary lessening of his scowl, the only time his frown eased up in the office. The silly little bloom of pride Martin got at being able to coax that out of him with a nice cup of tea – a silent victory, proof he’d done something right.

He couldn’t sneak out five minutes early for lunch with Tim on a Thursday, because they both loved Thursday special at the German kebab shop three blocks away and wanted to avoid the lunch rush queues.

He couldn’t buy a lemon and poppyseed muffin on a Monday to drop off at Rosie’s desk before she got in, earning him first dibs when she baked her amazing Malteser brownies during charity bake sales at work. She pretended she didn’t know Martin brought her breakfast every Monday, when he knew she ran late for work because she had to drop her father off at the physio, but somehow, a hearty slice of brownie would be wrapped in a napkin in the fridge with his name on it all the same. 

He couldn’t go to the little tea room five minutes from his house every Saturday and Wednesday, order the same cup of Earl Grey and the same ham-and-cheese toastie, and beam as the owner called him his favourite and most reliable customer.  

Maybe…Maybe Martin Blackwood did get noticed after all. Little nods, little appreciations. Maybe…that was enough? 

The cold retreated from his fluffy legs, though it didn’t fully subside. It loosened its grip on his tiny heart, but it didn’t uncoil. 

He had to completely undo this, Champion – no, Martin decided. He had to find the answer. And the best place to start had to be the book itself. 

Martin jumped down from his chair, flattening himself on the floor to scoot under the bookcase where he had bashed the book out of sight weeks before. 

A few cobwebs…a pen he’d lost months ago…some paper clips…a scrunched up ball of paper that stole all of Martin’s attention for five minutes or more as he bapped it between his paws in delight…but no book. 

Wriggling his way back out from under the furniture, he looked left and right. Where was it? 

Martin headed out of the archival assistants’ office and made his way towards Jon’s. Had Jon returned to the office to retrieve the book? Martin hadn’t noticed him doing so, nor had the book shown up on Jon’s desk lately. Given that desk doubled as one of Martin’s many napping spots, he was sure he would have spotted it if it had. 

Unless…he’d picked it up recently. Tim had just told Jon that there was no sign of Martin at all at his flat. Tim had done something incredibly important in that conversation, Martin realised in horror. 

He’d given Jon a mystery to unravel. He’d sparked his curiosity and given him a challenge – could he find Martin before a professional? 

Oh no. 

Martin scampered into Jon’s office at full speed, miaowing in a vain attempt to yell Jon’s name. But the room was empty. 

Panting, his head whipped this way and that. Where was he? It was 4:12pm – not a time that Jon would take a smoke break he thought no one knew about, nor a time he’d go for a tea or try to heavily hint for Martin to make one. He was always at his desk. Where was—

“Mrrrrowww…”

Martin blinked, his ears twitching. That…hadn’t come from him. “Miaow?”

A horrified pause stretched out across the office. And then, that same, low rumble of a miaow, sorrowful and irritated. 

“Mrrrrrooooowwww…”

Plucking up his courage, Martin followed the sound, his fur already sticking up on end. He tip-toed around the leg of Jon’s desk, already suspecting what had happened, yet praying it hadn’t.

There, beside Jon’s chair, was The Ninth Life, open on the last few pages. And on top of the book was the saddest, skinniest, scabbiest-looking black cat that Martin had ever seen in his life. Flecks of grey mottled his fur, which was missing in great clumps all over. Most of his right ear was missing, leaving a ragged edge in its wake. His eyes were far too big for his head, a brilliant green that somehow didn’t complement his black fur. Worst of all, the cat was sitting with its hind legs in front of it, as though determined to sit like a person. 

The black cat looked at Martin. 

Martin looked at the black cat. 

It scowled at him. Somehow, despite everything, the cat managed to scowl at him. 

The cat knew who he was, Martin realised. He knew he was Martin. 

…Jon? Is that you? Martin wondered, pacing slowly over to the scabby cat. He just wanted to get close enough to sniff him, to confirm that this was Jon and—

Bap! 

A paw plonked down squarely on Martin’s head, followed by a warning hiss. 

Bap! Bap bap bap! 

Yes, Martin realised, as he lay down on his front and tried to cover the top of his head with his own paws to shield himself. 

The scruffy cat before him was definitely Jonathan Sims.

──── •✧• ────

[livbedum]

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