#nineoclocknews

[taroet]

you're personable, i'll give you that. 'nice' is a stretch. — scott n malia 🫣

Malia leaned against the wall, her arms crossed, a sly grin tugging at the corner of her mouth. Scott’s comment lingered in the air & she let it hang for a beat before responding. “ 'Personable.' Wow. Didn’t realize I was moving up in the world. ” Her voice was laced with amusement, her dark eyes narrowing playfully. “ Usually, I’m more in the 'abrasive & blunt' category. But hey, I guess I’ll take the upgrade. ”

She pushed off the wall & paced a step closer, her tone shifting, dripping with mock offense. “ 'Nice,' though? Yeah, you’re not wrong. That’s not exactly my strong suit. But let’s be real, Scott, when has being 'nice' ever gotten us anywhere? You need someone to flash a winning smile & hold your hand? That’s more of a Lydia thing. Me? I’m the one who tears the door off its hinges when the smile doesn’t work. ”

Malia’s smirk widened, her sharp teeth glinting as she poked a finger at Scott’s chest, just hard enough to make a point. “ You want nice? Talk to anyone else. ” She gestured vaguely in the direction of the others. “ You want someone who’s gonna tell you your plan is terrible & then make it better? Well, that’s me. ” She stepped back, her expression softening just slightly, though her usual edge still lingered. “ But you know what? I’ll take 'personable' as progress. Maybe one day I’ll even hit 'charming'— though, honestly, that feels like too much work. ”

Malia paused, giving Scott a crooked grin. “ Now, are you done with the personality assessment, or should I book a session with Deaton for a more thorough evaluation? Because last I checked, we’ve got some supernatural bad guy to deal with & I’m not exactly the patient type. ”

[doucefiction]

would you like to have dinner? -- russ for rory teehee

she pauses for a second, his words reaching tingling ears. it is unbelievable how his voice still has the same effect on her as that night, a shiver running down her spine at the mere memory of him— ❝ i'm just cold! ❞ she blurts out, an attempt at getting the thoughts out of her mind. it just seems easier that way, less complicated. turning around, green eyes instinctively roam up and down his body. why did he have to be so magnetic? jerk. ❝ we all have dinner. it's a meal. a meal everyone has! ❞ the blonde adds, suddenly cursing herself for tying her hair up in a ponytail — fully aware that her cheeks are burning bright red on display for him. ❝ and i'm not hungry. ❞ ah, and just on cue, there's the lie.

[6ryptid]

just trust me , okay ? -- scott

it's an utterly pitiful sight to behold. tucked away into some unimportant corner, amber sits upon an old wooden chair that gives a mournful creeeeek... at every miniscule shift. she thinks it's mocking her. maybe it is.

" scott, dude— " a whimper that's totally unbecoming of the casual wit she'd sharpened over the years.

amber's entire body tenses and coils, rubber sliding up aged chair legs until her knees are nearly higher than her lap. sweat begins to bead at her hairline &. hey... is the room spinning or is it just her ?

in amber's defense, it was a fairly gnarly splinter. a feather ghosting over the wound would send a short - lived jolt of pain right to her damn soul.

but it was now or never, amber knew that, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut until the sides crinkled into a group of angry, unflattering lines. " —please just get the splinter out. the anticipation is killing me! "

[blogofhistory-blog1]

Happy Birthday..! Rowan Sebastian Atkinson..! 6 January 1955..! #RowanAtkinson is an #English #Actor, #Comedian and #Screenwriter best known for his work on the sitcoms #Blackadder and #MrBean..! He first came to prominence in the #BBC's sketch comedy show Not the #NineOclockNews, receiving the 1981 #BAFTA and via his participation in #TheSecretPolicemansBall..! https://www.instagram.com/p/BsQ-yJrAyLR3a6j_zjmmfu8d1FAmgOvH1nXsI80/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=1u49nck9nb5ub

[taroet]

our dead deserve to see you happy. — k and peeta<3

Peeta stared at the ground, the weight of her words settling heavily on his chest. Our dead deserve to see you happy. They echoed in his mind, tugging at places he thought he’d buried. Rue’s laughter, Finnick’s crooked grin, Prim’s quiet bravery— they all flickered to life, as vivid as if they were still here. But they weren’t.

That was the unshakable truth. They were gone & their absence carved holes in him so deep he wasn’t sure they’d ever fill. Happiness seemed like something fragile, distant— a fleeting idea he didn’t have the strength to chase.

He rubbed the scarred skin of his palm absentmindedly, the sensation grounding him. Happy. Could he even remember what that felt like? The small moments came to mind: the warmth of bread fresh from the oven, the feel of dirt between his fingers in the garden, the soft rhythm of shared silence. Those moments weren’t happiness, exactly, but they were close.

Still, a part of him resisted. How could he let himself feel joy when so many others had been denied it? When he’d lived & they hadn’t? “ I don’t know if I can do that, ” he murmured, his voice barely audible, as if admitting it too loudly might make it more real. “ Be happy. Not after everything. ”

The words lingered, raw & honest, but something about them felt unfinished. He stood there, the silence stretching out, his thoughts churning. Finally, after a long moment, he exhaled. “ But I’ll try. ” It wasn’t a promise — not really — but it was as close as he could get. For the dead. For what they’d fought for. Maybe even for himself.

[doucefiction]

you don't get to tell me you feel bad. --- ace and nancy

she knows she doesn't get to. it is her fault, all her fault. the way they got so close to having everything & now they are left with nothing. the fact there is so much bad blood between them, secrets & lies & a death curse that would take him from her. it is not easy, none of it is. but she would rather have him hate her alive than love her in death. swallowing dryly, nancy allows herself to take a step closer to him. it is torturing herself, but being away feels the same / a masochist craving some relief even if through more pain. ❝ i know, ❞ she mumbles, not quite strong enough to keep deceiving him. how can he not see she is fading away too? ❝ but i do, ace. i mean- i miss . . . can't we- ❞ a beat. ❝ i just wish there was something i could do to make this right. because i miss you. ❞ there. it is the most honest she can be without giving away too much, without risking too much. she can only hope he understands – as selfish as that might be.

[taroet]

⸺    #TAROET.TUMBLR.COM: ‟ Oh, I could call you names now. List a hundred reasons for why you were awful. But what would that do? Where would it leave me? I still loved you. I still have to live with that. ”

This is a private, highly selective & mutually exclusive multi muse blog. With characters from a multitude of fandoms, including but not limited to — The Vampire Diaries, Teen Wolf, Percy Jackson, Disney, etcetera. This blog is low - activity & eighteen plus only. Out of character posts will be much more common than in character posts. Penned by Flo(rence), she / they, twenty five, established in late april 2023.

⁽ ¹ ⁾ CARRD. ∣ ⁽ ² ⁾ PINTEREST. ∣ ⁽ ³ ⁾ SIDE BLOG.

[doucefiction]

doucefiction: an independent, private and highly selective multi-muse blog, as told by m. featuring canon muses from mixed medias and original muses. highest muse characters: brooke davis, caroline forbes, daisy jones, donatella 'tella' dragna, francesca bridgerton, glinda upland, josephine wilson, lydia martin, nancy drew, rachel gatina, sloane mairi, violet sorrengail & all ocs.

carrd. memes.

affiliated with @anxietytold, @nineoclocknews, @shadowbrn & more tba.

[doucefiction]

she could not help but scoff in protest. yet aurora did not pull away or fight to be free of him. call it masochism or plain curiosity, but rory was not about to deny herself the opportunity for some privacy with him — even if it meant letting him win and drag her around. her gaze dropped to his arms and for a second she wondered whether he would try carrying her if she were to protest. the blonde also allowed herself to relinquish in having his touch again, even if it were like that. she missed it, not that she would ever admit out loud. and at the realization? panic bubbled within her and she was about to stop to protest. however- it was too late now, they were already inside.

russ dropped his hand and for a second it was as though she had lost whatever was keeping her grounded to the earth. sighing, the blonde grabbed a plate and put some things on it silently — which truthfully was the biggest sign that something was off. yet aurora was scared she might beg him to touch her again if she spoke again. and after the way he had treated her? she had been humiliated enough. ❝ i'm not the one acting like a kid and pretending not to know people, ❞ rory hissed at last, as she walked by him before occupying another table. a scowl found its way to her features and all aurora could do was sigh and pray she did not start crying. all her life she had felt unwanted, why was it that this obtuse hockey player's rejection seemed to matter so much to her?

" i'm bringing you inside since you're so cold. " he said it as if it was normal, as if anything else was completely insane. even if he knew she wasn't cold, it was just an excuse to get her alone--or rather around less children, as they can't ever truly be alone out here. what he wouldn't give to be back in maple hills, in the safety of his room. the safety of his room with aurora as well. but telling her he wanted her in his bedroom felt like a step too far, though. a step too real.

" i wouldn't have to treat you like one of our kids, if you didn't act like one of our kids. " again he said it as if it was the most obvious thing, his tone lead into a teasing quality he only really saves for her, albeit there's no one else to flirt with around here; he didn't think jenna would particularly care for being flirted by the hockey player and he didn't wanna find out.

charging through the entering room he finds a food cart, with a few remnants of what they had for lunch that day. without missing a step, he is grabbing a few things before trekking to a table on the outskirts of the mess. letting go of rory, and sitting. expecting the same of the other.

[taroet]

Malia’s smirk didn’t falter, though she tilted her head, eyes narrowing slightly as she caught the subtle change in Scott’s tone. There was a pause, her lips twitching as if she was biting back some sarcastic remark. Instead, she crossed her arms tighter & took a deliberate step closer, not aggressive, but enough to let him know she wasn’t buying the whole "calm & collected leader" act.

“ ‘Ease the tension’? Really, Scott? You think that’s what I am right now? ” Her voice was dry, tinged with humor that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “ If I was tense, you’d know. Trust me. Doors don’t survive my ‘tension.’ ” She stopped just in front of him, her gaze locking on his, reading his expression. The weight behind his words wasn’t lost on her, even if he was trying to downplay it. Scott was good at that— making it seem like he had it all under control even when the cracks were starting to show.

“ ‘Bad guy of the week,’ huh? ” she echoed, arching an eyebrow. “ Sure, because those are always easy to deal with. No one dies, no one loses their mind & we all get to go home & pretend everything’s normal. ” Her voice was laced with sarcasm, but there was something softer beneath it, almost like she was testing him, trying to see if he’d flinch.

She exhaled sharply, finally stepping back. “ Look, I get it. You’re trying to be all leader-y & optimistic. Good for you. ” She waved a hand vaguely in the air. “ But let’s not pretend this doesn’t suck. It’s okay to admit that. Just . . . don’t try to sell me some ‘we’ll all be fine’ speech like you’re some kind of motivational poster. It doesn’t work on me. ”

hands rise in surrender, a small grin dies trying to peak behind golden skin. " woah, hey. " a calm demeanor changes the pitch. coming out quieter than he intended. " just trying to ease the tension here, yeah? " hindering his further responses relied on his own personal experience learning from deaton. from years of talks, nights of attending under his care, at the clinic.

" we're going to be okay yeah? " he asks to further her from anger, to let her use her mind on something other than rage. " it's just the bad guy of the week. it's not the end of the world. " he nods as if trying to believe it himself, the weight of fighting constantly weighs him down easily. long gone is the boyhood he thought he'd know forever. here he stands, a few inches taller and a little bit wiser, for the sake of it.

[doucefiction]

scoff breaks out of dry lips, arms instinctively wrapping across her chest. it is an armor in a situation where she does not have much defense, teeth sinking into bottom lip as mind races with thoughts & memories. god damn him. ❝ so? is it illegal now to be cold in summer? there was a . . . breeze! ❞ the girl knows what it sounds like and yet cannot find it in her to care. she may be a crappy liar at the moment but it is still better than letting her guard down for him.

❝ and no, i'm not- ❞ a beat, light eyes squinting at him as he grabs her wrist. is he insane? he might as well be. ❝ excuse me? callaghan, what do you think you're doing? ❞ aurora hates the way all it takes is a simple & completely platonic touch for her to feel alive again — goosebumps reminding her of the effect russ has on her. she hates it, hates him, hates the fact she cannot stop thinking of him. ❝ why are you dragging me like i'm one of our aforementioned kids? ❞ our kids. wow, a possessive pronoun is now making her feel things. she is totally, completely, absolutely screwed.

" its the middle of summer aurora. " his argument is only for teasing sake, he likes seeing her stumble over her words. he thinks its the only time she isn't sure of things. dealing with him. " do i need to go get the nurse? " finger points over his shoulder, giving her an out. it was the simplest thing he could do. not the nicest, the nicest would be telling her how pretty she was today. he didn't wanna see her peel over and have to explain to a dozen kids what death is though, so he's granting her a pass, this time.

" you're not hungry? " disbelief etches his tone. " we've both been chasing kids all day keeping up and making sure they don't fall in the lake. i'm starving, you're hungry aurora. " he finishes grabbing her smaller wrist--pointedly avoiding grabbing her hand--and begins to lead them through to the mess.