#like if lets say i bought myself a sandwich and i imagine myself eating it i discover that it's moldy or it fells on the ground

[amberhum]

i need to know it's going to be better

[eltystuffs]

🌼My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise🌼

I went urban exploring for the first time with my bestie and brought Mr. Hippo with me to brighten the atmosphere! The floors were creaky, the air was filled with dust, and it was the perfect place for our favorite Mediocre Melody! This guy will be going to @crayfurbs as part of an art trade ❤ It was so fun making Mr. Hippo come to life as a Furby fr

My allergy symptoms will never recover from this I think I have mold spores and dust particles in my brain

If you need Mr. Hippo brainrot, read more

"My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But, uh, you know, I-I don’t feel too bad about it. After all, if- if it weren’t from me, it would have just been from someone else, ya know? I guess what I’m trying to say is life, life goes on. W- well, from- for everyone else, life goes on. Not- not for you, you’re, you're dead. But that’s neither here nor there. It reminds me of one summer day in the park, I was having just a delightful picnic with my good friend Orville. And I said to him, I said, “Orville, I-I have a story,” And he said to me, “What’s the significance of the story?” I said to him “Orville, not every story has to have significance, ya know? Sometimes uhh, you know, sometimes a story is just a story. You try to read into every little thing and find meaning in everything anyone says, you’ll just drive yourself crazy. Had a friend do it once - wasn’t pretty - we talked about it for years. And-and not only that, but, you’ll likely end up believin' something you shouldn’t believe or thinkin' something you shouldn’t think o-o-or assumin' something you shouldn’t assume, ya know? "Sometimes," I said, "a-a-a story is- is just a story, so just be quiet for one second of your life and eat your sandwich, okay?" Of course, it was only then I realized I made sandwiches and, poor Orville was having such difficulty eating it! Elephants have those clumsy hands, ya know? A-Actually, I-I suppose that’s the problem; they don’t have hands at all, do they? They've, they’re all feet! A-an I-I couldn’t imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet. Now, if I recall correctly there was a bakery nearby. I- I said to him “Orville, l-let me go get you some rye bread.” Now, I-I’m unsure if elephants enjoy rye bread, but I assure you that Orville does. Now this was on a Tuesday which was good because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough on Monday and threw it out Wednesday. O-or rather they sold it at a discount for people wantin' to feed the ducks and then, probably at the end of the day finally they threw it all out, I-I don't recall. I do remember a man who would being his son to the bakery every Wednesday, and-and go feed the ducks. He would buy all of the sourdough bread. Of course, you know, you’re not supposed to feed the ducks sourdough bread at all. It swells up in their stomach and then they all die. At, ah, at least, at least that’s what I’ve heard. Ya know, I never saw any ducks die myself, but I did notice a substantial decrease in duck population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him he was killing the ducks by feeding them sourdough bread! And if you want my opinion on the matter, heh, and I told Orville this as well: if you wanna feed ducks or birds or any kind for that matter, especially buy seed. I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort don’t occur in nature. They don’t grow on trees or spring up from the bushes! I don’t think birds know what to do with bread. What was I saying? Oh, oh yes yes. So I bought Orville some rye bread. What a fine day it was."

[just-dino-maggie]

hiii, you should write one for trevor with 60 (if we get caught it’s your fault) and 74 (listen, it’s for science)!! i feel like those prompts scream trevor, lol

Ugh I love these prompts! They definitely remind me of Trevor. Thank you for requesting, I hope you like it!

This is a Part 2 to The Intern but it can be read as a stand-alone

After Trevor and I realized we like each other a lot more then we originally let on, we started spending time together. Seeing Trevor outside of work has been amazing. He was hiding his personality from me for so long that it feels like a gift how open he is with me.

He is so honest about his emotions. I’ve spent my entire life hiding myself so seeing him be so true to himself is beautiful. It’s even making me more vulnerable.

One of my favorite sides of him is his mischievous side. I can see it coming from a mile away. He always gets quiet and has this smirk on his face that means trouble. It’s wonderful.

He’s been wearing that signature smirk all morning. He told me yesterday that he has a surprise for me so I’m getting ready for anything. I throw on a normal comfortable outfit and meet him in the car.

His hand rests on my thigh the entire car ride and I quickly realize where we are headed. “Why are we going to the rink?” I ask.

“You’ll figure it out when we get there.” He says playfully, leaning over quickly to kiss me at the red light. I can feel his smile on my lips.

When we pull up to Honda center Trevor parks behind the building. He sees my concern and simply grabs my hand. He leads me to a back door where our favorite security guard stands. Trevor greets him and the guard lets us in with no questions asked.

“Are we allowed to be here right now?” I question.

Trevor scrunches his nose, “Not technically.” My eyes go wide and he just chuckles. We walk through the hallways and at one point he asks, “Do you trust me?”

I don’t hesitate, “Of course I do.” Part of me can’t believe that it’s true. I trust him fully and completely. Just a few months ago being in a room with him was stressful. Now I can’t imagine a world where he isn’t my safe person.

He puts in hands over my eyes. I revel in their warmth. He walks with me for a short time before he removes his hands and whispers. “Open your eyes.”

On the ice there is a picnic set up for the two of us. There’s a blanket, food, flowers, and a cute little basket tied with a bow. “It’s beautiful!” I kiss him quickly and start heading over to the blanket.

I almost trip on the way over but Trevor catches me. I let out a yelp in fear of falling on my face. He just laughs holding me to his chest. “If we get caught it’s your fault.” He chuckles kissing my neck softly.

I respond by scoffing and pushing him a little. He only tightens his grip on me. Smiling we make our way to center ice.

I’ve always loved cold weather and the chill of an ice rink is the perfect cold. I don’t think I ever told Trevor that but an indoor cold picnic is better then baking in the California sun. It’s simply perfect.

We eat sandwiches that he claims he made “all by himself” and small cakes he admits that he bought. After we are done eating we cuddle on the blanket together and talk. My favorite thing about Trevor is how he communicates with me. He’s open and honest. We can talk about anything.

Then after a while of just talking he says, “Open the basket.” I give him a weird look. “I got you a present.” He smirks and kisses me.

I cant deny I’m excited, Who doesn’t like presents? I practically rip the basket open and when I see what’s inside I gasp. As I pick it up tears start to well.

Trevor grabs my face, “what’s wrong? Did I do something wrong?” He asks.

“No,” I respond. “It’s just… It’s the best gift anyone has ever given me.” I stare down at this beautiful film camera. It reminds me of the first camera I ever used. Trevor and I met because I’m on the social media team. A lot of people think that means I love digital photography and I do love it. But my first ever love was the darkroom. “How did you know?” I ask dumbstruck.

“I heard you talking with the other photographers once about how you like darkroom better. I had to look up what that meant. Now that we’re together I thought I’d surprise you.”

I’m in awe of him. He’s so incredibly sweet. I put the camera down softly and jump into his lap. Straddling him, I thank him for the gift with my lips. We kiss passionately with no care that we are in the middle of a rink we aren’t even allowed to be on. He parts from me just long enough to take a breath then his lips go to my neck.

He’s sucking, nipping, and biting every inch of skin. I can’t help but lean into him. Eventually he flips me over and leans back picking up the new camera. “What are you doing?” I ask breathlessly.

“Taking your picture,” He says smiling. I try to take the camera out of his hands but he dodges it. I hate pictures of me and he knows it. “Listen, it’s for science.” He holds it to his eye and snaps two pictures of me. My hair is messy from him pulling it and my neck is covered in blotches.

“How is it for science?” I ask finally taking the camera away from him.

“Film is marked by light then develops over time in chemicals. Your neck is marked by me and then it will develop over time because it just does.” I chuckle and he continues, “I’m documenting it.”

I take a picture of him as he hovers over me. “When did you get so interested in science?”

“When it started giving me excuse to kiss you.” I can’t help but smile. It’s the most perfect date I’ve ever been on, regardless of the fact that I’ll need to use a lot of concealer tomorrow.

“I love you,” I whisper against his lips.

He smiles, “I love you too.”

[clvr-the-insect-enthusiast]

It seems our little adventure has come to an end...

What the... Am I dreaming?

Not quite. You are in stasis. An immobile object in a realm incomprehensible to the human mind.

Uh... Ok?

While we are here, what about we chat for a bit? I can tell you some stories. After all, you must be bored, being in an empty space of nothingness after such an adrenaline-filled adventure.

You have met quite a peculiar fate, which could have easily led you to a terrible, terrible demise. But I do not regret sending you to Hisui. After all, if it were not for me it would have just been from someone else. I guess what I am trying to say is life goes on. Well... Well for everyone else life goes on. Not for you... You technically do not exist right now. That is neither here nor there.

It reminds me of one summer day. I was having just a delightful picnic with my child Dialga, and I said to it "Dialga, I have a story."

And it said to me "What's the significance of the story?" and...

I said to him "Child of mine, not every story has to have significance, you know? Sometimes, a story is just a story. You try to read into every little thing and find meaning in everything anyone says you will just drive yourself crazy. Saw this man from Hisui do it once - Was not pretty. We talked about it for years. And not only that, but you will likely end up believing something you should not believe, thinking something you should not think, or assuming something you should not assume."

Sometimes I said "A story is just a story, so just be quiet for one second in life and eat your sandwich, okay?" Of course, it was only then I realized I had made sandwiches.

Poor Dialga was... having such difficulty eating it. It has no hands, do you recall? It is all feet! And I could not imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet.

But aren't you also a quadruped?

I have thousands of arms.

Now, if I recall correctly there was a bakery nearby. I said to it, "Dialga, let me go get you some rye bread." Now, you must be unsure if the literal deity in control of times enjoys rye bread, but I assure you that Dialga does.

Now this was on a Tuesday, which was good because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough bread on Monday, and threw it out Wednesday... or rather they sold it at a discount for people wanting to feed the Pokémon, and probably at the end of the day finally they threw it all out - I do not recall.

I do remember a man who would bring his son to the bakery every Wednesday and go feed the wild Pokémon. He would buy all of the sourdough bread. Of course, you are not supposed to feed the wild ones sourdough bread at all. They are not adapted to such a diet and may grow reliant on humans. You know I have saw this happen myself, and some cases caused a noticeable decrease in population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him that he was killing the Pokémon by feeding them sourdough bread! And if you want my opinion on the matter, and I told Dialga this as well - "If you want to feed wild Pokémon,it's best to buy seed and just sneak it into their habitats while they are not looking, preferably in places they would actually look for food."

I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort do not occur in nature. They do not grow on trees, or spring up from the bushes. I do not think they know what to do with bread. What was I saying?

Oh-oh, yes yes.

So I bought Dialga some rye bread. What a fine day it was.

[mothytheghost]

THE LIVER THEIF IS AFTER ME

My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But, uh, you know, I-I don’t feel too bad about it. After all, if- if it weren’t from me, it would have just been from someone else, ya know? I guess what I’m trying to say is life, life goes on. W- well, from- for everyone else, life goes on. Not- not for you, you’re, you're dead. But that’s neither here nor there. It reminds me of one summer day in the park, I was having just a delightful picnic with my good friend Orville. And I said to him, I said, “Orville, I-I have a story,” And he said to me, “What’s the significance of the story?” I said to him “Orville, not every story has to have significance, ya know? Sometimes uhh, you know, sometimes a story is just a story. You try to read into every little thing and find meaning in everything anyone says, you’ll just drive yourself crazy. Had a friend do it once - wasn’t pretty - we talked about it for years. And-and not only that, but, you’ll likely end up believin' something you shouldn’t believe or thinkin' something you shouldn’t think o-o-or assumin' something you shouldn’t assume, ya know? "Sometimes," I said, "a-a-a story is- is just a story, so just be quiet for one second of your life and eat your sandwich, okay?" Of course, it was only then I realized I made sandwiches and, poor Orville was having such difficulty eating it! Elephants have those clumsy hands, ya know? A-Actually, I-I suppose that’s the problem; they don’t have hands at all, do they? They've, they’re all feet! A-an I-I couldn’t imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet. Now, if I recall correctly there was a bakery nearby. I- I said to him “Orville, l-let me go get you some rye bread.” Now, I-I’m unsure if elephants enjoy rye bread, but I assure you that Orville does. Now this was on a Tuesday which was good because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough on Monday and threw it out Wednesday. O-or rather they sold it at a discount for people wantin' to feed the ducks and then, probably at the end of the day finally they threw it all out, I-I don't recall. I do remember a man who would being his son to the bakery every Wednesday, and-and go feed the ducks. He would buy all of the sourdough bread. Of course, you know, you’re not supposed to feed the ducks sourdough bread at all. It swells up in their stomach and then they all die. At, ah, at least, at least that’s what I’ve heard. Ya know, I never saw any ducks die myself, but I did notice a substantial decrease in duck population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him he was killing the ducks by feeding them sourdough bread! And if you want my opinion on the matter, heh, and I told Orville this as well: if you wanna feed ducks or birds or any kind for that matter, especially buy seed. I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort don’t occur in nature. They don’t grow on trees or spring up from the bushes! I don’t think birds know what to do with bread. What was I saying? Oh, oh yes yes. So I bought Orville some rye bread. What a fine day it was

[nothings-wholey]

My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But you know I don’t feel to bad about it. After all, if it weren’t from me, it would have just been from someone else, ya know? I guess what I’m trying to say life, life goes on. W- well, for everyone else, life goes on not for you, you’re dead. That’s neither here nor there. That reminds me of one summer day in the park, I was having a delightful picnic with my good friend Orville. And I said to him, I said “Orville, I-I have a story” And he said to me “What’s the significance of the story?” I said to him “Orville, not every story has to have significance, ya know? Sometimes uhh, sometimes a story is just a story. You try to read into every little thing and find meaning in everything anyone says, you’ll just drive yourself crazy. Had a friend do it once, wasn’t pretty, we talked about it for years. And not only that, you’ll likely end up believe something you shouldn’t believe or thinking something you shouldn’t think o-o-or assuming something you shouldn’t assume, ya know? Sometimes I said a story is just a story, so just be quiet for one second here life and eat your sandwich, okay? Of course, it was only then I realized i made sandwiches and poor Orville was having such difficulty eating it! Elephants have those clumsy hands, ya know? Actually, I suppose that’s the problem, they don’t have hands at all, they’re all feet. I couldn’t imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet. Now, if I recall correctly there was a bakery nearby, I said to him “Orville, let me go get you some rye bread.” Now, I’m unsure elephants enjoy rye bread, but, I assure you that Orville does. Now this was on a Tuesday which was good because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough on Monday and threw it out Wednesday. or rather they sold it at a discount for people who wanting to feed the ducks and then probably at the end of the day they threw it all out. I do remember a man who would being his son to the bakery every Wednesday, and go feed the ducks. He would buy all of the sourdough bread, of course, you know, you’re not supposed to feed the ducks sourdough bread at all. It swells up in their stomach and they all die, at least that’s what I’ve heard. Ya know I never saw any ducks die myself but I did notice a substantial decrease in duck population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him he was killing the ducks by feeding them sourdough bread. And if you want my opinion on the matter if you wanna feed ducks or birds or any kind for that matter, especially buy seed. I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort don’t occur in nature, they don’t grow on trees or spring up from bushes! I don’t think birds know what to do with bread. What was I saying? Oh oh yes yes. So I bought Orville some rye bread. What a fine day it was.

what in fuck’s name are you talking about

[water-pokemon-appreciator]

“My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But, uh, you know, I-I don’t feel too bad about it. After all, if- if it weren’t from me, it would have just been from someone else, ya know? I guess what I’m trying to say is life, life goes on. W- well, from- for everyone else, life goes on. Not- not for you, you’re, you're dead. But that’s neither here nor there. It reminds me of one summer day in the park, I was having just a delightful picnic with my good friend Orville. And I said to him, I said, “Orville, I-I have a story,” And he said to me, “What’s the significance of the story?” I said to him “Orville, not every story has to have significance, ya know? Sometimes uhh, you know, sometimes a story is just a story. You try to read into every little thing and find meaning in everything anyone says, you’ll just drive yourself crazy. Had a friend do it once - wasn’t pretty - we talked about it for years. And-and not only that, but, you’ll likely end up believin' something you shouldn’t believe or thinkin' something you shouldn’t think o-o-or assumin' something you shouldn’t assume, ya know? "Sometimes," I said, "a-a-a story is- is just a story, so just be quiet for one second of your life and eat your sandwich, okay?" Of course, it was only then I realized I made sandwiches and, poor Orville was having such difficulty eating it! Elephants have those clumsy hands, ya know? A-Actually, I-I suppose that’s the problem; they don’t have hands at all, do they? They've, they’re all feet! A-an I-I couldn’t imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet. Now, if I recall correctly there was a bakery nearby. I- I said to him “Orville, l-let me go get you some rye bread.” Now, I-I’m unsure if elephants enjoy rye bread, but I assure you that Orville does. Now this was on a Tuesday which was good because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough on Monday and threw it out Wednesday. O-or rather they sold it at a discount for people wantin' to feed the ducks and then, probably at the end of the day finally they threw it all out, I-I don't recall. I do remember a man who would being his son to the bakery every Wednesday, and-and go feed the ducks. He would buy all of the sourdough bread. Of course, you know, you’re not supposed to feed the ducks sourdough bread at all. It swells up in their stomach and then they all die. At, ah, at least, at least that’s what I’ve heard. Ya know, I never saw any ducks die myself, but I did notice a substantial decrease in duck population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him he was killing the ducks by feeding them sourdough bread! And if you want my opinion on the matter, heh, and I told Orville this as well: if you wanna feed ducks or birds or any kind for that matter, especially buy seed. I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort don’t occur in nature. They don’t grow on trees or spring up from the bushes! I don’t think birds know what to do with bread. What was I saying? Oh, oh yes yes. So I bought Orville some rye bread. What a fine day it was.”

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

adding onto what the person said about mr hippo earlier, ahem

“My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But, uh, you know, I-I don’t feel too bad about it. After all, if- if it weren’t from me, it would have just been from someone else, ya know? I guess what I’m trying to say is life, life goes on. W- well, from- for everyone else, life goes on. Not- not for you, you’re, you're dead. But that’s neither here nor there. It reminds me of one summer day in the park, I was having just a delightful picnic with my good friend Adam. And I said to him, I said, “Adam, I-I have a story,” And he said to me, “What’s the significance of the story?” I said to him “Adam, not every story has to have significance, ya know? Sometimes uhh, you know, sometimes a story is just a story. You try to read into every little thing and find meaning in everything anyone says, you’ll just drive yourself crazy. Had a friend do it once - wasn’t pretty - we talked about it for years. And-and not only that, but, you’ll likely end up believin' something you shouldn’t believe or thinkin' something you shouldn’t think o-o-or assumin' something you shouldn’t assume, ya know? "Sometimes," I said, "a-a-a story is- is just a story, so just be quiet for one second of your life and eat your sandwich, okay?" Of course, it was only then I realized I made sandwiches and, poor Adam was having such difficulty eating it! Werewolves have those clumsy hands, ya know? A-Actually, I-I suppose that’s the problem; they don’t have hands at all, do they? They've, they’re all paws! A-an I-I couldn’t imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet. Now, if I recall correctly there was a bakery nearby. I- I said to him “Adam, l-let me go get you some rye bread.” Now, I-I’m unsure if Werewolves enjoy rye bread, but I assure you that Adam does. Now this was on a Tuesday which was good because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough on Monday and threw it out Wednesday. O-or rather they sold it at a discount for people wantin' to feed the siren and then, probably at the end of the day finally they threw it all out, I-I don't recall. I do remember a man who would being his son to the bakery every Wednesday, and-and go feed the siren. He would buy all of the sourdough bread. Of course, you know, you’re not supposed to feed the siren sourdough bread at all. It swells up in his stomach and then he'll die. At, ah, at least, at least that’s what I’ve heard. Ya know, I never saw any sirens die myself, but I did notice a substantial decrease in siren population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him he was killing the sirens by feeding them sourdough bread! And if you want my opinion on the matter, heh, and I told Adam this as well: if you wanna feed sirens or fish or any kind for that matter, especially buy seed. I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort don’t occur in nature. They don’t grow on trees or spring up from the bushes! I don’t think fish know what to do with bread. What was I saying? Oh, oh yes yes. So I bought Adam some rye bread. What a fine day it was.”

oh my god this took so long why did i even attempt to re-write every single word of signifigance agggGGGGGG

HFGAGRHRUVKBKKK

[emiplayzmc]

I've had this thought running through my mind for a while now.

What if, off-camera, Jay actually heard the Operator speak during his final moments? What were the words he heard, you may ask? Warning: very long theory under the cut.

"My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But uh- y'know, I- I don't feel too bad about it. After all, if- If it weren't for Alex, it would've just been from someone else, y'know? I guess what I'm tryin' to say is life- Life goes on. We- well, from- for everyone else, life goes on, not for you, you're- You're dead. But that's neither here, nor there. It reminds me one summer day in the park, I was having just a DELIGHTFUL picnic with my good friend, Slenderman. And I said to him, I says "Slenderman, I- I have a story." And he said to me "What's the significance of the story?" I said to him "Slenderman, not every story has to have significance, y'know? Sometimes a... Y'know, sometimes a story is just a story! You try to read into every little thing, and find meaning in everything anyone says, you'll just drive yourself crazy! Had a friend do it once - wasn't pretty, we talked about it for years - and then not only that, but you'll likely end up believin' something you shouldn't believe, and thinkin' something you shouldn't think, or assuming something you shouldn't assume. Y'know?" "Sometimes," I said "a story is just a story, so just be quiet for one second of your life and eat your sandwich, okay?" Of course, it was only then I realized I made sandwiches, poor Slenderman was having such difficulty eating it! Eldritch horrors have those unmoving faces, y'know? Actually, I- I suppose that's the problem! They don't have faces at all, do they? They're all blank! I- I couldn't imagine someone askin' me to eat a sandwich with no face! Now, if I recall correctly, there WAS a bakery nearby. I said to them "Slenderman, let me go get you some rye bread." Now, I'm unsure if eldritch horrors ENJOY rye bread, but I assure you that Slenderman does! Now, this was on a Tuesday, which was good because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough bread on Monday, and threw it out Wednesday - or rather, they sold it at a DISCOUNT for people wanting to feed the ducks, and probably at the end of the day they finally threw it all out. I- I don't recall! I DO remember a man who would bring his son to the bakery every Wednesday, then go feed the ducks. He would buy ALL of the sourdough bread. Of course, y'know, you're not supposed to feed the ducks sourdough bread at all! It swells up in their stomachs and they all die. It, uh- At least, that's what I've heard. Y'know, I- I never saw any ducks die myself, but I did notice the substantial decrease in the duck population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him that he was killing the ducks by feeding them sourdough bread! And if you want my opinion on the matter? Heh, and I told Slenderman this as well! If you wanna feed ducks, or birds of any kind, for that matter - it's best to buy seed. I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort don't occur in nature, they don't grow on trees or spring up from the bushes! I don't think birds know what to do with bread. What was I sayin'? Oh- oh! Yes, yes - so I bought Slenderman some rye bread, what a fine day it was!

I'll see myself out.

[spottedloaf]

My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But, uh, you know, I-I don’t feel too bad about it. After all, if- if it weren’t from me, it would have just been from someone else, ya know? I guess what I’m trying to say is life, life goes on. W- well, from- for everyone else, life goes on. Not- not for you, you’re, you're dead. But that’s neither here nor there. It reminds me of one summer day in the park, I was having just a delightful picnic with my good friend Orville. And I said to him, I said, “Orville, I-I have a story,” And he said to me, “What’s the significance of the story?” I said to him “Orville, not every story has to have significance, ya know? Sometimes uhh, you know, sometimes a story is just a story. You try to read into every little thing and find meaning in everything anyone says, you’ll just drive yourself crazy. Had a friend do it once - wasn’t pretty - we talked about it for years. And-and not only that, but, you’ll likely end up believin' something you shouldn’t believe or thinkin' something you shouldn’t think o-o-or assumin' something you shouldn’t assume, ya know? "Sometimes," I said, "a-a-a story is- is just a story, so just be quiet for one second of your life and eat your sandwich, okay?" Of course, it was only then I realized I made sandwiches and, poor Orville was having such difficulty eating it! Elephants have those clumsy hands, ya know? A-Actually, I-I suppose that’s the problem; they don’t have hands at all, do they? They've, they’re all feet! A-an I-I couldn’t imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet. Now, if I recall correctly there was a bakery nearby. I- I said to him “Orville, l-let me go get you some rye bread.” Now, I-I’m unsure if elephants enjoy rye bread, but I assure you that Orville does. Now this was on a Tuesday which was good because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough on Monday and threw it out Wednesday. O-or rather they sold it at a discount for people wantin' to feed the ducks and then, probably at the end of the day finally they threw it all out, I-I don't recall. I do remember a man who would being his son to the bakery every Wednesday, and-and go feed the ducks. He would buy all of the sourdough bread. Of course, you know, you’re not supposed to feed the ducks sourdough bread at all. It swells up in their stomach and then they all die. At, ah, at least, at least that’s what I’ve heard. Ya know, I never saw any ducks die myself, but I did notice a substantial decrease in duck population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him he was killing the ducks by feeding them sourdough bread! And if you want my opinion on the matter, heh, and I told Orville this as well: if you wanna feed ducks or birds or any kind for that matter, especially buy seed. I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort don’t occur in nature. They don’t grow on trees or spring up from the bushes! I don’t think birds know what to do with bread. What was I saying? Oh, oh yes yes. So I bought Orville some rye bread. What a fine day it was.

[snowdrrops]

EVERY VALETINE'S ONWARDS

feat. ! soukoku/double black

Chuuya walks with a spring in his step, with a hint of a smile plastered on his lips, a bouquet of flowers under his arm. Unlike most days, he decides not to take a taxi back to his apartment. Walking seemed like the better option to him, probably due to his good mood.

As he made his way through the busy streets of Yokohama, he notices a vast majority of people who also seemed like they were in a better mood than most days. After all, it was Valentine’s day.

Ah, Valentine's day. The day for lovers to express their affections through the act of gifting chocolate or flowers.

It was not as if Chuuya had waited day and night for this day to come, since he's been single for almost his entire life (he hopes it will not stay this way for long). With this in mind, imagine his surprise when a bouquet of roses was shoved into his face the moment he entered his office this morning. Turns out, one of his subordinates had been harbouring a secret admiration (or was it infatuation? Chuuya couldn’t remember the specifics of what she said) towards him.

Hm, I should get some fine wine to savour tonight…, he thinks to himself, and his train of thought comes abruptly to a stop as he rounded a corner and spots a familiar silhouette.

Chuuya rubs his eyes once. Then twice. He pauses in his tracks. This has to be an illusion, because there’s no way in any universe that Dazai would buy flowers for someone on Valentine's Day.

Chuuya must've been gaping at him for a while, because Dazai turns to look at him and scowls.

Regaining his composure, Chuuya walks towards him, already coming up with ideas on who Dazai intends to give these flowers to. Maybe it was that brunette, with the blue eyes and charming demeanour? No… perhaps that blonde who had some strange obsession with alcohol, then?

“Chuuuuya!” Dazai gives him a sugar-sweet smile and it makes Chuuya want to wipe it off his face (by punching him, obviously).

“Getting flowers, I see,” Chuuya states, eyeing the combination of pink carnations and deep red roses.

“Didn’t you purchase a bouquet, too?” Dazai asks, gaze dropping down to the bouquet tucked safely under Chuuya’s arm.

“No, I received this,” Chuuya replies, pride dripping off his tone.

“Huh?! You got flowers, Chuuya?!”

“Hey! Don’t look so shocked, bastard!”

“All those years when we worked together, you never got flowers!”

“Well, not anymore,” Chuuya announces proudly, a hand on his hip.

Dazai thinks for a moment before replying. “Do you like them, then?”

“Huh, who?”

“The person who gave you flowers.”

Taken aback, he says “Huh, that never crossed my mind… Well, she’s pretty. Has a good fashion sense.”

“Would you date her, Chuuya?”

“Eeeehh, date her? Don’t know ‘bout that. Honestly, I’m just grateful for the flowers.”

A soft sigh escapes Dazai, and Chuuya almost fails to catch it.

“Oi, what are you sighing about?”

Dazai throws him a glance before looking away and letting out a laugh. “Nothing, just wondering if you plan to stay single for the rest of your life if this continues.”

“Of course not. It’s just…”

“Hmm?”

I can't imagine myself with anyone who's not you. Chuuya pushes that thought aside.

Chuuya stops to look at Dazai, before realising they’ve walked quite a distance. The sun has set and a blanket of darkness has enveloped the city. His stomach growls.

“Hungry, shorty?” Dazai asks teasingly.

Chuuya huffs, “Let’s go get some dinner.”

Any other day, Chuuya was a hundred percent sure Dazai would request to have some type of expensive steak or beef, but when Chuuya ask what he’d like to eat, all he got in response was a simple, “Oranges.”

“Normal people won’t have oranges for dinner.”

But Chuuya relented anyway, and bought some sandwiches along with four oranges from the mini-mart near them.

“Let’s go to Yokohama Port,” left Chuuya speechless; however, he trailed after Dazai anyway. This had been their dynamic the day their partnership began: Dazai led, Chuuya followed.

And although Chuuya was perfectly satisfied with crushing his enemies with gravity, a small voice in his head occasionally wishes to be the partner of the mastermind, helping Dazai improvise or work on his already elaborate schemes, not just his assistant who carries out the assassinations. Chuuya shuts this voice down most of the time, but some days it possesses his being, his head full of ‘what-ifs’.

They sit by the port side by side, the distinct and sweet smell of the orange filling the air as Dazai peels it open, splitting it into half. He pops one half into his mouth and offers the other to Chuuya.

Chuuya’s gaze travels from the orange to Dazai, who waits for him to accept it. Hesitantly, he picks it up from Dazai’s outstretched hand, their fingers brushing each other's for a moment. A jolt of electricity prickles Chuuya's skin as he mutters a soft, "Thanks."

The ocean is tranquil. The waves crash against sandy shores, only to recede and come back even stronger. A few ships are docked into the port, large crates of cargo stacked atop each other like building blocks.

“Are you going to tell me why you didn’t want to eat at some five-star restaurant yet?” Chuuya says, reaching for the second orange.

Dazai’s eyes are shut. His hair sways in the direction of the wind, and if he was a total stranger to Chuuya, he might’ve looked like a calm and ordinary civilian of the city.

Chuuya silently thought to himself that he would choose the Dazai he knew over a stranger any day, but he quickly got rid of that thought, discarding it like dandelion seeds in the wind, never to be seen again.

“No restaurants around here serve oranges for dinner.”

Chuuya tilts his head slightly to the left, his confusion visible.

Dazai meets Chuuya’s gaze, and Chuuya resents the fact that Dazai's eyes are clouded over by some unreadable emotion.

“Share an orange with me,” is all Dazai asks for. Chuuya is unable to pin down the exact reason why, but he does what is asked of him anyway.

He separates a single slice from the whole orange and hands it to Dazai.

“Stingy, are we now?”

Chuuya glares at him but his tone held mischievousness, “Don’t forget that I paid for this, bastard.”

Dazai throws him a smile. It's ninety nine percent insincere, with just maybe a sprinkle of gratitude hidden beneath the snarky surface.

“How does it taste?”

Dazai regards this question with a cocked eyebrow, and a smirk begins to form on his lips. Chuuya could practically see the wheels in Dazai's head working, slowly forming a new idea.

In one swift motion, he grabs Chuuya by the coat and pulls him close. So close that he can see a tint of red forming on Chuuya’s face.

“Only one way to find out.”

Chuuya doesn’t even get the chance to retort before he feels the sweet taste of the orange on his lips.

Dazai lets go of him, his smirk even wider than before. “Why so shocked, shorty? It is Valentine’s day, after all.”

“You haven’t kissed me since Christmas Eve.”

“Oh, you’ve been keeping track?” Dazai teases, never not amused by Chuuya getting annoyed with him.

“One day, I’ll kill you myself,” Chuuya replies.

Wordlessly, Dazai held out another slice of the orange to Chuuya. “Share this orange with me, Chuuya.”

Later, back in Chuuya’s apartment, Dazai places a bouquet of pink carnations and deep red roses into a vase. He smiles in satisfaction, before setting it down on the living room floor.

He pours himself a glass of water and sits on the sofa, eyes raking over every corner of Chuuya’s home. Someday, this might be his home too.

The clock strikes four. If memory serves him right, Chuuya got up at five on the dot. He had an hour. Dazai walked over to the shelf where there were more than thirty photo frames displayed.

Dazai found himself in a few of the photos, members of the Port Mafia took up the majority of them and one particular picture caught Dazai’s eye.

Yokohama Port had clearly been the main focus of the picture, but Dazai had photobombed probably at the very last minute, and it resulted in half of the port being covered by Dazai’s smiling face. He had his signature black coat on, which meant that this was taken back in their partnership days.

There was a timestamp on the bottom left of the photo, which read ‘14/2’. The very first Valentine’s they had spent together.

That day feels lightyears away. A lot has changed, so have Dazai and Chuuya. They’ll never be fifteen again and somehow, Dazai doesn’t feel any nostalgia for those simple days. He knows that his future Valentines’ will be filled with Chuuya, until the end of time.

And so it did.

* ˚ ✦ directory

[thenextchapterbegins]

My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But, uh, you know, I— I don't feel too bad about it. After all, if... If it weren't from me, it would have just been from someone else, ya know? I guess what I'm trying to say is life... life goes on. Well— Well, from— for everyone else, life goes on, not for you. You're dead. That's neither here nor there. That reminds me of one summer day in the park. I was having just a delightful picnic with my good friend, Orville. And I said to him, I said: "Orville, I have a story." And he said to me: "What's the significance of the story?" And... I said to him: "Orville, not every story has to have significance, ya know? Sometimes, uh... y'know, sometimes a story is just a story. You try to read into every little thing and find meaning in everything anyone says, you'll just...drive yourself crazy, Had a friend do it once, wasn't pretty, we talked about it for years. And not only that, you'll likely end up believin' something you shouldn't believe, thinkin' something you shouldn't think, o-or assuming something you shouldn't assume, ya know? Sometimes," I said, "a story is just a story, so just be quiet for one second of your life and eat your sandwich, okay?" Of course, it was only then I realized I made sandwiches and... poor Orville was... was having such difficulty eating it! Elephants have those clumsy hands, ya know? Actually, I— I suppose that's the problem. They don't have hands at all, do they? They're... They're all feet! I— I couldn't imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet. Now, if I recall correctly, there was a bakery nearby, I said to him: "Orville, let me go get ya some rye bread." Now, I'm not sure if elephants enjoy rye bread, but I assure you that Orville does. Now this was on a Tuesday, which was good because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough bread on Monday, and threw it out Wednesday. Or rather they...sold it at a discount for people who wanting to feed the ducks and then...probably at the end of the day, finally, they threw it all out. I don't recall. I do remember a man who would bring his son to the bakery every Wednesday, and... and go feed the ducks. He would buy all of the sourdough bread, of course, you know, you're not supposed to feed the ducks sourdough bread at all. It swells up in their stomach and then they all die, and, uh— at least...at least that's what I've heard. Ya know, I never saw any ducks die myself, but I did notice a substantial decrease in duck population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him that he was killin' the ducks by feeding them sourdough bread. And if you want my opinion on the matter — and I told Orville this as well — if you wanna feed ducks or birds of any kind for that matter, especially buy seed. I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort don't occur in nature. They don't grow on trees or spring up from the bushes! I don't think birds know what to do with bread. What was I saying? Oh, oh, yes, yes. So I bought Orville some rye bread. What a fine day it was

(Freddy)

[rainbowvolt]

Mr Hippo roasting you

My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But, uh, you know, I-I don’t feel too bad about it. After all, if- if it weren’t from me, it would have just been from someone else, ya know? I guess what I’m trying to say is life, life goes on. W- well, from- for everyone else, life goes on. Not- not for you, you’re, you're dead. But that’s neither here nor there. It reminds me of one summer day in the park, I was having just a delightful picnic with my good friend Orville. And I said to him, I said, “Orville, I-I have a story,” And he said to me, “What’s the significance of the story?” I said to him “Orville, not every story has to have significance, ya know? Sometimes uhh, you know, sometimes a story is just a story. You try to read into every little thing and find meaning in everything anyone says, you’ll just drive yourself crazy. Had a friend do it once - wasn’t pretty - we talked about it for years. And-and not only that, but, you’ll likely end up believin' something you shouldn’t believe or thinkin' something you shouldn’t think o-o-or assumin' something you shouldn’t assume, ya know? "Sometimes," I said, "a-a-a story is- is just a story, so just be quiet for one second of your life and eat your sandwich, okay?" Of course, it was only then I realized I made sandwiches and, poor Orville was having such difficulty eating it! Elephants have those clumsy hands, ya know? A-Actually, I-I suppose that’s the problem; they don’t have hands at all, do they? They've, they’re all feet! A-an I-I couldn’t imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet. Now, if I recall correctly there was a bakery nearby. I- I said to him “Orville, l-let me go get you some rye bread.” Now, I-I’m unsure if elephants enjoy rye bread, but I assure you that Orville does. Now this was on a Tuesday which was good because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough on Monday and threw it out Wednesday. O-or rather they sold it at a discount for people wantin' to feed the ducks and then, probably at the end of the day finally they threw it all out, I-I don't recall. I do remember a man who would being his son to the bakery every Wednesday, and-and go feed the ducks. He would buy all of the sourdough bread. Of course, you know, you’re not supposed to feed the ducks sourdough bread at all. It swells up in their stomach and then they all die. At, ah, at least, at least that’s what I’ve heard. Ya know, I never saw any ducks die myself, but I did notice a substantial decrease in duck population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him he was killing the ducks by feeding them sourdough bread! And if you want my opinion on the matter, heh, and I told Orville this as well: if you wanna feed ducks or birds or any kind for that matter, especially buy seed. I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort don’t occur in nature. They don’t grow on trees or spring up from the bushes! I don’t think birds know what to do with bread. What was I saying? Oh, oh yes yes. So I bought you some rye bread. Its a gift for you, perhaps more of a consolation, since i know you have trouble getting some bitches...

[kawaiibreadbeliever]

Mr. Hippo Drawing

"My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But, I, uh, y'know, I - I - I don't feel too bad about it. After all, if it weren't for me it would've just been from someone else, y'know? I guess what I'm trying to say is life - life goes on. Well... Well for everyone else life goes on. Not - not for you.. uh.. You're dead. That's neither here nor there.

It reminds me of one summer day in the park. I was having just a delightful picnic with my good friend Orville, and I said to him - I said "Orville, I-I have a story."

And he said to me "What's the significance of the story?" and...

I said to him "O-Orville, not every story has to have significance, y'know? Sometimes, uh, y'know, sometimes a story is just a story. You try to read into every little thing and find meaning in everything anyone says you'll just drive yourself crazy. Had a friend do it once - Wasn't pretty. We talked about it for years. And not only that, but you'll likely end up believing something you shouldn't believe, thinking something you shouldn't think, o-or assuming something you shouldn't assume, y'know?"

Sometimes I said "A story is-is just a story, so just be quiet for one second in life and eat your sandwich, okay?" Of course, it was only then I realized I'd made sandwiches.

Poor Orville was... having such difficulty eating it. Elephants have those clumsy hands, y'know? Actually, I-I suppose that's the problem. They don't have hands at all, do they? The-they're all feet! An-I-I couldn't imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet.

Now, if I recall correctly there was a bakery nearby. I said to him, "Orville, let me go get you some rye bread." Now, I-I'm unsure if elephants enjoy rye bread, but I assure you that Orville does.

Now this was on a Tuesday, which was good because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough bread on Monday, and threw it out Wednesday... or rather they sold it at a discount for people wanting to feed the ducks, and probably at the end of the day finally they threw it all out - I don't recall.

I do remember a man who would bring his son to the bakery every Wednesday and go feed the ducks. He would buy all of the sourdough bread. Of course, y'know, you're not supposed to feed the ducks sourdough bread at all. It swells up in their stomach and then they all die. At, uh.. at least... at least that's what I've heard. Y'know I-I never saw any ducks die myself, but I did notice a substantial decrease in the duck population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him that he was killing the ducks by feeding them sourdough bread! And if you want my opinion on the matter, heh - and I told Orville this as well - "If you wanna feed ducks, or birds, or any kind for that matter, it's best to buy seed."

I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort don't occur in nature. They don't grow on trees, or spring up from the bushes. I don't think birds know what to do with bread. What was I saying?

Oh-oh, yes yes.

So I bought Orville some rye bread. What a fine day it was."

[systemerrorbonnie]

My friend, you have met a terrible, terrible demise. But, uh, you know, I-I don’t feel too bad about it. After all, if- if it weren’t from me, it would have just been from someone else, ya know? I guess what I’m trying to say is life, life goes on. W- well, from- for everyone else, life goes on. Not- not for you, you’re, you're dead. But that’s neither here nor there. It reminds me of one summer day in the park, I was having just a delightful picnic with my good friend Orville. And I said to him, I said, “Orville, I-I have a story,” And he said to me, “What’s the significance of the story?” I said to him “Orville, not every story has to have significance, ya know? Sometimes uhh, you know, sometimes a story is just a story. You try to read into every little thing and find meaning in everything anyone says, you’ll just drive yourself crazy. Had a friend do it once - wasn’t pretty - we talked about it for years. And-and not only that, but, you’ll likely end up believin' something you shouldn’t believe or thinkin' something you shouldn’t think o-o-or assumin' something you shouldn’t assume, ya know? "Sometimes," I said, "a-a-a story is- is just a story, so just be quiet for one second of your life and eat your sandwich, okay?" Of course, it was only then I realized I made sandwiches and, poor Orville was having such difficulty eating it! Elephants have those clumsy hands, ya know? A-Actually, I-I suppose that’s the problem; they don’t have hands at all, do they? They've, they’re all feet! A-an I-I couldn’t imagine someone asking me to eat a sandwich with my feet. Now, if I recall correctly there was a bakery nearby. I- I said to him “Orville, l-let me go get you some rye bread.” Now, I-I’m unsure if elephants enjoy rye bread, but I assure you that Orville does. Now this was on a Tuesday which was good because rye bread was always fresh on Tuesday. They made sourdough on Monday and threw it out Wednesday. O-or rather they sold it at a discount for people wantin' to feed the ducks and then, probably at the end of the day finally they threw it all out, I-I don't recall. I do remember a man who would being his son to the bakery every Wednesday, and-and go feed the ducks. He would buy all of the sourdough bread. Of course, you know, you’re not supposed to feed the ducks sourdough bread at all. It swells up in their stomach and then they all die. At, ah, at least, at least that’s what I’ve heard. Ya know, I never saw any ducks die myself, but I did notice a substantial decrease in duck population over the course of a few years. I just never thought to stop the man and tell him he was killing the ducks by feeding them sourdough bread! And if you want my opinion on the matter, heh, and I told Orville this as well: if you wanna feed ducks or birds or any kind for that matter, especially buy seed. I mean, when you think about it, breads of any sort don’t occur in nature. They don’t grow on trees or spring up from the bushes! I don’t think birds know what to do with bread. What was I saying? Oh, oh yes yes. So I bought Orville some rye bread. What a fine day it was.

Huh, it seems that you have met a-a horrible demise, my friend. But, uh, y’know, these things happen, an-and life, life goes on. Not for you, obviously, uh, you’re dead, but uh it reminds me of a time I was-I was havin’ a conversation with my friend Orville. We were–uh, were were we? We were by the–wh-the-the river, we were sitting by the river and watching the fish leap over the falls and uh, I–I said to Orville, ‘Y’know sometimes I feel like a fish leaping over and over again. Always trying to get somewhere. Oh, I don’t know where only to find myself in the jaws of a beast.’ He ‘course looked at me surprised, y’know? ‘Have you been in the jaws of a beast, friend?’ To which I said, ‘no, of course not, Orville.’ I said, ‘No, no, no I-I simply meant that life can seem like a relentless endeavor. Overcome meaningless obstacles only to meet an equally meaningless fate, regardless of your efforts, regardless of the obstacles you’ve passed.’ And, uh, Orville, he stood and proceeded to drape me with a picnic cloth. To which I-I-I asked him, I said, ‘friend, what–what are you doing?’ He looked at me–very concerned–really. ‘I feel like you’ve gotten too much sun.’ Indeed, huh, indeed I had. He proceeded to pour me a glass of just ice cold lemonade, ooh, you ever mix it with iced tea? Do a like–little half lemonade half–ooh, it’s so–you try it some–well you can’t, because you’re dead, but–anyways. So, you may be asking yourself, how did I go from sitting by the falls drinking lemonade to being wedged in the air duct, not only with Orville, but with an entire assortment of fruity-colored friends? Well, there’s uh, there’s really no good answer to that, but perhaps I met a demise of my own at some point and this is my afterlife or my dream–whatever it might mean I honestly don’t know. Or, maybe it doesn’t mean anything at all. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything at all.

Huh, it seems that you have met your end. Ugh, what a pity. Y'know I-I dont feel too bad about it, though. After all, if it weren’t me, it would’ve just been one of the others, I guess. I’m honestly just glad to be out of those air ducts. Y’know it’s-it’s not easy for a hippopotamus to fit up there, and not easy to get down either. I’m not as young as I used to be, as you can see. I used to be able to do all the sorts of things. Y-you’re young, you’re vibrant, you have that sort of pep in your step. Heh, reminds me of a conversation that I was havin’ with one of my good friends Orville. We were havin’ a nice picnic one day. I believe it was summer or perhaps it was…was it the fall? Yes, yes. It was the fall because the leaves had turned already. But I said to Orville I says, ‘Orville I have a story to tell you,’ and Orville looked at me–y’know, kinda odd–and, and said, ‘What’s it about?’ I said to him, ‘not every story has to be about something Orville. Sometimes a person just wants to talk. Why does everything have to be a story?’ I said to him. He just looked at me. He said, ‘Well y-you said you had a story.’ Y’know he was quite right. I did in fact. I told him I had a story. I suppose if a person just wants to talk then it’s best to not announce that you’re telling a story. Tellin’ a story does come with its own pressures and expectations I-I suppose. After all, if you’re just talking to a friend then there’s no more expectations than if you were talkin’ into the wind. Words by themselves aren’t expected to carry–uh, aren’t expected to stick, but if, y’know, if you announce that you’re tellin’ a story well then there’d better be a point to it all, y’know? No one wants to sit and listen to someone ramble on and on and on with absolutely no end in sight. So, y’know it’s-it’s good to be mindful of that when you tell someone that you’re about to tell a story, that you have something to say. Tellin’ someone that you’re gonna tell them a story is tantamount to askin’ them to stop what they’re doin’ and–and pay attention. You’re basically sayin’, ‘hey, hey buddy, stop everything, stop what you’re thinking. I have a solution to everything.’ And well I didn’t really have a story to tell. In-in hindsight I-I probably just misspoke when I said that I had a story. I think it would’ve just been better to tell Orville that I wanted to tell him something, rather than tell him that I had a story. But, y’know, even then it mighta put too much importance on the whole thing. Either way, it was quite a nice day. I remember–I remember that we were drinking tea.

Well, it seems that your journey has ended. Very sorry about that. It-it was always going to end this way, of course. If it weren’t by me, it would’ve just been by some other, y’know, terrible thing, just–you could not imagine how terrible it would be-just-I get scared thinkin’ about it. Glad it’s not me. Reminds me of a-of a time I was speaking to my good friend Orville. We were–we were sitting on a park bench watching the pigeons. I was on the left; he was on the r–wait, was I on the right? Or left? Anyways, it doesn’t matter. We were sitting on there watching the pigeons. And uh, -II said to Orville, ‘Friend, those birds are frozen, and he kinda looked at me like I’d lost my mind, but I reminded him that it was winter, y’know, and often birds will sit in a tree until they freeze then-then they y’know they sort of fall to the ground ‘til the sun warms up a-and they can y’know move around again. So I said to Orville, ‘you might as well save those breadcrumbs until the birds thaw, ‘cause they can’t very well enjoy them in the condition they’re in.’ To which he asked what I meant, and asking what condition the crumbs should be in before he threw them to the birds–assuming that I meant the birds couldn’t enjoy the breadcrumbs in the condition that the crumbs were in, when in fact I had meant the birds could not enjoy them in the condition that the birds were in, considering that the birds were frozen. Y’know so he took a moment and then threw his last handful onto the ground. I said to him, ‘Orville, why did you just throw the breadcrumbs to the birds when I just told you they’re frozen?’ To which he responded, ‘the breadcrumbs are not frozen.’ Again, misunderstanding my words. I didn’t mean to say that the breadcrumbs were frozen, when I said, ‘I told you they’re frozen’, I’d been referring to the birds. Y’know, in hindsight what I should’ve said was–and this would make perfect sense, ‘Why did you throw the breadcrumbs to the birds when the birds are frozen?’ He misunderstood upon my correction, statin’ that he didn’t know what else to do with the breadcrumbs, and that perhaps, y’know, when the birds thawed, they’d still be able to eat the crumbs. So I-I said to Orville, I said and this is what I said to him, I said, ‘Orville, the birds may be dead.

* thankz bestie 👍

[tinydeskwriter]

Traitor: Who’s in My Bathroom

singer!reader

PART ONE

summary: just a little extra till part two. or, Y/n gets interviewed on her Grammy, her new record breaking EP, the end of her relationship with British Heartthrob Harry Styles, cheating, and her surprising pregnancy.  

word count: 2769

warning: angsty.

A/n: There is a especial participation by Hailey Bieber—because I love her—, Niall Horan, Zayn Malik, Dua Lipa, Gigi, Bella and Anwar Hadid are mentioned, Harry, Olivia and Jason too. This will kinda of put some light in how the break up happened, it’s Y/n version of what went down. On another note: you guys are giving me some amazing suggestions on who should be her next man, Michael B Jordan was a nice surprise, Chris Evans I kinda of imagined, Jack Harlow I wasn’t expecting, those three have been the most suggested and it's kind of even, I would like to throw in the mix Mark Ronson just because I find him pretty cute, he’s another known nice guy, and he’s in the music industry. et me know your favorite, and whoever shows up more is going to be the proud new man of a very gorgeous very talented Pop Icon.

Traitor Extra: Who’s in My Bathroom

“I think a lot of people probably want to know how we became friends.” Hailey said, they were making ice cream cookie sandwiches, all because Y/n had commented in their group chat that it was one of her biggest cravings during her pregnancy.

The singer was in a light blue linen top and long flow skirt ensemble with floral embroidery by Australian brand Fillyboo, a part of her pregnant belly adorably showing, her long hair in a braided crown and almost no makeup. She was impeccably beautiful with a maternal glow.

She was officially back in LA, and all the tabloids were reporting how she had bought a $20 million house in Chatsworth that formerly belonged to Frank Sinatra as her new home. 14 acres, two swimming pools and a sports court, with complete privacy and security, perfect for the Pop Icon to raise her baby in American territory. Of course, that was after reports that the 24 years old woman had bought a new £8 million home in London, close to Hyde Park.

“We met…it was through Gigi, and I met Gigi through Z, was it 2015? 2016?” Y/n looked at her friend, unsure of the right date. “It was right after the band went into a hiatus, and the guys started solo careers, I had just wrapped up my first world tour as a headliner, and we started spending more time in the States.”

At the time, she and Taylor Swift weren't really potential friends.

Y/n had met the singer around the time the older woman was dating Harry in 2012, and she and Harry started dating not long after Harry broke up with Taylor in 2013. It was safe to say that Y/n/n wasn't exactly welcome on the TS Squad.

Gigi ended up introducing her to her other friends, Hailey, Kendall, Kylie, and younger sister Bella, and they kind of became a group, with Hailey and Y/n naturally bonded over being the only ones not part of a sisterly duo.

“Gigi introduced you to the group...” Hailey nodded.

“We got really close because, well, Gigi always had Bella, Kendall had Kylie, we were the unpaired ones, and we kind of just started calling each other to hang out when we are in the same city.” Y/n commented with a smile, the sandwiches were ready. “This looks so good, you know this video is going to be just me eating, right?” The singer said.

Hailey laughed, lifting one of hers.

“Let's see if this tastes as good as it looks, cheers.” They smacked their ice cream sandwiches together as if it were a drink before taking their first bite.

Y/n moaned closing her eyes, making the blonde model laugh harder.

“That’s divine.” She looked at her friend. “I need to know where you bought this cookie.”

“As you are a very special guest, I made it myself.” Hailey said. “I’ll give you the recipe later.”

“I love you.” The singer said seriously, making her friend laugh.

They ate a whole ice cream sandwich for the cameras before Hailey went back to asking the questions.

“Recently there was the Grammy Awards.” The model said, eyeing her friend with a smile. “You took home five awards, being the most awarded artist of the night... how many Grammys do you have now, fifteen?”

Y/n had to contain the eye roll while Hailey contained the smile, Justin Bieber's wife knew exactly how many Grammys her friend had. How many times had they played around with the awards on drunken nights at the singer's house? Kendall and Hailey always came up with creative acceptance speeches that made the rest of the guests laugh themselves off the couch—Gigi had fallen off a high stool on one occasion—.

“Seventeen.” Y/n corrected with a small smile.

“And you also performed three new songs, Burned LA Down, Traitor and Good Enough, which are part of your EP Y/n Y/l/n Heartbreak Edition, Traitor became the most streamed song in the first 24 hours of release in Spotify's history... Which is really impressive, congratulations babe,” Hailey looked at her intensely, everything they were talking about had been discussed in advance. “The EP has a rather...melancholy theme.”

This time Y/n couldn't contain the eye roll at Hailey's subtleties, she had a smile on her face, which she knew wouldn't last long as they progressed with the subject. They were getting to the point where they needed to be. Y/n would not only talk about her successful EP, but also open up about the end of her relationship with Harry Styles. And she'd chosen Hailey, because she knew her friend would be empathetic, and stand by her corner, unlike everyone else who wanted an exclusive at the break up of the year —and boy, was Lia getting calls, radio hosts, tv hosts, even tell-all book deals—.

“We can be honest, the EP is about being cheated and left for someone else, and all the emotions and thoughts that come with that. Is pretty sad.” Y/n said with a small smile. “Some people talk bad about their ex on the internet, others write books, I'm a musician, I turned this painful experience into songs, I was surprised how fast the process was, it was therapeutic, I cried more than ever, everything was still very fresh in my memory.” She took a sip of the iced tea Hailey’s assistant brought her. “The ‘subject’ of those songs he’s not someone I was still getting to know when all that happened, it wasn't a brand new relationship, we've been together for nine years, we were engaged, we were renovating a house in London, we had plans to get married in 2022, we were trying to get pregnant.” The singer pointed to her growing belly.

“Did you suspect?”

“That he got into a affair with his much older director?” she asked with raised eyebrows, it was a rhetorical question, she knew exactly what Hailey was referring to. “No, I had no idea, we always planned our projects so that our schedules would fit around each other, Elvis was supposed to be filmed at the beginning of the year, but because of Covid, the filming was pushed to the end of 2020, he actually went with me to Australia, initially he was supposed to stay there with me until filming of My Policeman started in England this year, but then he joined this new movie project in September, because the original actor casted was fired, we were actively trying to make a baby, we talked about it, so it's safe to say the relationship wasn't on the rocks.” She made fun of what some blog ‘defending’ Holivia wrote. “He visited me in November, everything normal, nothing suspicious, nothing strange, we even talked about the plans for the wedding, my wedding gown was being designed by our friend, Alessandro Michele, that is the level of clueless about what was happening I was.” She gestured with her hands, a nervous habit. “It was a mutual friend of ours who first commented on their proximity, nothing even crossed my mind, I trusted him blindly, this is the man I am going to marry, I told this friend, I even defended her, can you imagine it? I went to dinner with her and her fiancé, I met her kids. I couldn't conceive of the idea that the two of them could be getting involved, emotionally, sexually or whatever…”

Harry and she had been having sex for the entire duration of her visit, no red flags had even hinted at what was to come. No text messages or calls at odd hours, no change in behavior, for all intents and purposes, he was still the guy who'd loved her since he was eighteen.

“When did you become suspicious?” Hailey questioned, because she already knew the story, she knew what was to come, and things only got worse.

“Her ex actually texted me by the end of November, she ended their more than a decade long relationship apparently out of the blue, and he was pretty sure something was happening between the two of them, and that's when I decided to talk with H, it was a video-call, and he completely dismissed the story.” She said with a bitter smile. “I already suspected I could be pregnant at the time, and this was the kind of news that is best given in person, silly me wanted him to be by my side when I took the pregnancy test, and a really small part of me was suspicious and wanted to see for myself what was going on.” Y/n controlled her own emotion by taking another sip of his tea. “What an idiot right? I wanted to surprise my fiancé but I was the one who got surprised.”

She could still vividly remember that day whenever she closed her eyes. She'd arrived in Los Angeles discreetly, James had given her spare keys to his Palm Springs house, and agreed to keep her arrival a surprise, he'd even commented that they should arrange to have dinner while she was in the country.

Hailey squeezed her friend's hand on the table in support.

“I got the key to the house he was staying in, it was another mutual friend of ours house in Palm Springs, we were engaged, we shared more than four houses, it was supposed to be a nice surprise, why wouldn't I get the key to the house he was staying, right?”

“Did you catch them both in the act?” the model asked wide-eyed.

She'd never heard the story in so many details before, and it was the first time Y/n herself was opening up to her, she'd learned everything from Gigi and Bella, not wanting to press the pregnant woman — of course, they had Y/n's permission, so  she didn't have to go on telling friend to friend what had happened—.

Y/n laughed lightly at her friend's expression.

“Not in the act, I didn’t caught them fucking, but she was there, it was too early to be a social visit, and she was only dressed in one of his shirts, I think you can imagine what they probably were doing before.” The singer shuddered just remembering the scene. “The best part? It was a DIY shirt I had sewn for him during quarantine...”

Hailey stared at her with her mouth open and eyebrows raised. “What a bastard! I’am sorry, but he is, and she is worthless… You know what? They both are garbage, stinking garbage.” She said the second part to the camera, Y/n almost laughed at how her friend—one of the sweetest and kindest people she knew—was so outraged for her that she called her ex and his current girlfriend ‘stinking garbage’. “What happened then?”

“She left, we talked, more like he spoke and I stood there without a reaction, I didn't know what to say, my entire world collapsed at that moment.” She said with teary eyes. “There was the guy I'd been with since I was sixteen, my first everything, my first kiss, my first boyfriend, my first sex, my best friend and the person I thought I'd marry, we had a life together, nine years when you're still in your mid-twenties is a long time, especially for this industry standard.” She took a moment to breathe. “And he’s saying a lot of things, and the only thing I can understand is that that's the end of our relationship, he wants to try new things, explore this new feeling, and in my head the only thing that translates is: you're not good enough for him.” Y/n accepted a tissue and dried the stubborn tears. “Two days later he was with her, they were a couple, officially dating, the same friend who first told me about them getting close called to tell me.” She learned that they were officially together because Glenne, not wanting her to be caught off guard when the news got out, informed her. “How can you claim to love someone and move on so fast? Cross that, he moved on when we were still together.”

The other woman shook her head in disapproval as some camera crew assistants dried their faces. It was difficult to exist and never have read an article about Harry Styles and Y/n Y/l/n, the it couple of the music industry, the British Heartthrob and the British Songbird.

“Did you tell him you thought you were pregnant?” Hailey asked, their hands still connected.

“At what point? After I had already being dismissed like old news? I left without looking back, I just wanted to cry for my broken heart and the death of my happiness in privacy.” Y/n boarded the first helicopter out of Palm Springs and back to Los Angeles.

“When did you confirm the pregnancy?”

“The day after he went public with her at his manager wedding, I was staying with the Hadid’s in Pennsylvania, I left LA and went straight to Zayn and Gigi, it got to the point that I could no longer ignore the very real possibility that I might be pregnant, I was positively panicking, I don’t have a family, so I would be completely alone if wasn’t for them, Zayn got in touch with Niall, they are both by my side when Gigi's midwife confirmed it and did my first ultrasound.” Y/n dried her face and tried to smile. “It was the most emotional and also the saddest moment of my life, naively I aways thought that I would have the love of my life by my side when I found out I am pregnant with our babies.”

“Have you tried to contact him after?” Hailey asked, even her eyes are watery by this point, the two were ignoring the cameras, just talking like they would if they were catching up.

“I tried calling once, as he wouldn’t reply my texts.” She said. “Niall insisted, but he was extremely cold, he spoke to me as if he had never loved me, as if I was nothing to him. He literally said we'd better keep in touch through our lawyers to sort it all out, he was pretty much talking only about the material stuff, because 'she' wasn't comfortable with the two of us keeping touch.” Y/n wiped away some insistent tears. “I didn't even recognize him, I was like, have I been drunk, have I been blind our entire relationship? This isn't the sweet guy I fell for. All kinds of thoughts and scenarios go throughs your head in a situation like that, especially when you are a overthinking: What if he rejected my babies? What if they weren't good enough, like I wasn’t? What if he got tired of them, like he got tired of me? What if he had other children in the future, and mine were never a priority of his? We see that all the time in society, and I didn't want to force my kids into that kind of heartbreak, It's better not to have a father than be constantly disappointed, and honestly, the person who broke up with me is not someone I want around my children, and let alone that woman.”

Y/n chuckled lightly as she remembered when she first met Olivia, then with Jason, when the entire cast went out to dinner at a nice restaurant on Sunset.

“Do you want to hear something positively hilarious?” She asked, Hailey just looked at her, a tiny smile. “When I first met her, during a visit to LA, we all went out to dinner, the whole cast, her fiancé was together, and we chatted most of the night, he's an amazing guy, Chris Pine too, so smart and funny, and when we'd got home, H... he was dying of jealousy because I confessed that growing up I had this massive crush on both Jason Sudeikis and Chris Pine.” The singer gave a sarcastic laugh. “He was jealous of a teenage crush, while he was probably already cheating on me with her.”

Hailey rolled her eyes.

“The male ego is toxic.”

“Do not tell me.”

“Changing the subject a little.” Hailey said with a smile. “You always use plural when mentioning your baby, this is a way of not giving away the gender, or...”

Y/n smiled genuinely big.

“I’am having twins.” She laughed as Hailey gave a squeal of joy and hugged her friend. “So far I think only Z, Ni, Gigi and Bells knew...I lie, Anwar and Dua too, they were there when Ni found out about it, and girl...that Irishman is scandalous.”