#old man brendon

[warmbeebosoftbeebo]

What is that mustache

[prettyoddfever]

[technovillain]

bob belcher is at the top of my kin list by the way. i have never related to a character more

[nasibkupu2]

Shitpost

[fazcinatingblog]

No YOU ran out of paper towel and then opened the fridge to see if there were any new rolls in there

[impulsivedecisionsat3am]

there’s a good reason these tables are numbered honey is a banger song and might be my favorite off of afycso

[smithcollegegirls2004]

sorry i need it to be stated very clear that there is a difference in my mind between brendon urie (real man i dont like) and brendon urie fictional character of our movie. but that being said returning to the place you ran from for a cheap cash grab festival on an album you were more of a figurehead for the creative vision of what was not necessarily NOT yours but definitely you could never have in a million years written on your own . how do you begin? are you dancing with a ghost? are you plastering on a smile? does none of it matter anymore - is it all about the money, just your unconventional day job? has the vacuous pit of money fame and notoriety eaten everything inside you but the barren wasteland of your soul? but past that all - how does that 17 year old kid in a basement dreaming of something bigger feel about it?

[greeen]

It makes me so sad to think of him ever having to see/experience even a fraction of the hate and discourse online about him— I’m glad he seemed to remove himself a while back, purely because he does not deserve it and it breaks my heart to imagine him reading some of the awful things people say :(

Brendon had to play the guy with confidence and cockiness to sell the band after the split, the whole fake it until you make it advice he always gave, from a guy who struggled with depression and anxiety and it took years to feel comfortable in his skin. It’s kinda funny to me that people actually believe he’s an egomaniac in real life.

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Hi, i hope you don't mind if i request to combine 2 prompts in one scenario.

8. "There's so much pressure..."

12. "Come on, you'll be fine. First labour's take ages.

Scenario: a pregnant woman got kidnapped by her obsessive ex-boyfriend, went into labor and begged him to take her to the hospital because she can't be having the baby in his basement, but he refused. Go as wild and dark as you want.

Thanks 💌

Thanks for the request anon, this was delicious to write. Only prompt no.8 has been included as the other didn’t naturally fit in to wherever the hell this story went. I swear I have no control, these stories take on a life of their own. You said go wild and dark, so… 😈 Trigger warnings; kidnapping, vomit, blood, violence, mental instability, death (not mum or bubs dw), oh and of course fpreg & birth. Hope you like it

Chained

Libby’s eyes fluttered open. It took a moment for her vision to focus but when it did she realised nothing was familiar. The room was dimly lit, no natural light source, only a singular light bulb hanging from the ceiling. Dark grey bricks formed each of the four walls and the floor below was concrete and rough. She was lying down, on old discoloured bedding on a rickety metal bed. Where the hell was she?! She tried to push herself upright, but she discovered one arm could not be moved. It was handcuffed to the bed!

“What the hell…” Libby muttered.

“Ah… you’re awake.” Came a voice from the shadows.

Stepping into the light Libby saw a man walk towards her. It was Scott, her ex boyfriend. He looked awful. She’d not seen him since they broke up 18 months ago. His hair had grown, now matted and unkept, dark circles hung beneath his eyes and his usually clean shaven chin now sported a severe and dishelved five o’clock shadow.

“…Scott? Where… where am I?” She asked confused and still a little bit groggy.

“You’re at home darling. I rescued you.”

Libby’s brain whirled into overdrive. She remembered going to a midwife appointment, it was her final check up before her due date, she finished the appointment and headed back to her car. She had stopped just before opening the door, hearing something behind her, and then…. everything went black.

“Rescued me?! From what?” Libby asked, managing to push herself to a sitting position with her one free hand.

“From making a mistake. Did you really think you could keep me away from my baby?” Scott drawled, his eyes staring hungrily at her pregnant stomach.

“What the fuck are you talking about? We broke up, I moved on. This isn’t your baby!”

Libby’s outburst was rewarded by a forceful smack across the face. The distinctive metallic taste of blood soon filled her mouth. She was shocked into silence.

“We were great together! We were happy; we were going to get married, have a family, and then… Brendon came along. Poisoning our relationship, turning you against me, stealing you for himself. No! I won’t let him take this away. I’ve brought you home baby… so we can be together.” Scott’s hand touched her bump and his eyes widened in glee. “Where we can be a family.”

This man was insane, Libby thought, realising the true danger of this situation. It was one thing having an ex that still held a candle towards you, but this was way beyond that. She knew Scott hadn’t taken the break up well, but since the split he’d clearly disappeared into a realm of utter delusion. The baby in her womb shifted, feeling the fear of its mother. Scott’s mouth twitched into an uncomfortable grin, feeling the child move. Libby daren’t say anything, it was clear he was unstable and there was no telling what might set him off.

“Rest up sweetie. I’ll get you some food, you must be hungry. Eating for two and all that.” Scott said cheerfully, removing his hand from her stomach and disappearing upstairs.

Libby looked down at her stomach and her handcuffed wrist. She didn’t feel hungry at all. Only nauseous.

~•~

Scott returned and brought her food. Libby didn’t say anything, didn’t move, too scared of accidentally provoking him. He left the tray of sandwiches and crisps on the side table next to the bed and disappeared upstairs, offering a firm “Eat” before he went.

Her memories had returned as she gradually came around from whatever drug Scott had administered. Brendon and Libby had decided to have a little trip away this weekend before the baby came. A baby-moon as they say. They’d told all their friends and family they’d be out of town and without signal for a few days, but this morning Brendon called to say he had a work emergency and they’d have to cancel. That was fine, Libby would just go visit her parents instead. Only she never got a chance to call her parents after the midwife appointment. Everyone thought her and Brendon were away, and Brendon thought she was at her parents - no one would realise she’d been kidnapped.

Her stomach rolled with fear. She needed to think, find a way out of here. Wherever “here” was…. Where the fuck had Scott taken her? She didn’t recognise the room, it could be anywhere. She looked over at the plate of food and her heart sank. She recognised the crockery - this was his family’s cabin, in the middle of the woods.

~•~

Days. She’d been there days. Her family and Brendon would hopefully know she was missing by now. But they’d never find her here.

Scott continued to visit, to bring her food, to talk the baby in her womb. He’d offered to bathe her once, disgusted by the thought she refused. When he tried to get more forceful, hitting her again, she faked practice labour pains and he thankfully left her alone to rest.

She barely spoke to him anymore, too fearful to say the wrong thing again, of which she had learnt the hard way. She tried once to play along with his delusion, that he had “rescued” her from Brendon and now they could be a family. Believing her, Scott eventually unlocked the handcuffs, but when she made a break for it towards the stairs of the basement Scott went ballistic. They got into a fight; she kicked and screamed and hit, but he was stronger and in the carnage she fell forward against the wooden stairs she was trying to climb.

Scott was stricter with the handcuffs after that. Libby swore to herself not to try it again for fear of what might happen to the baby if she fell again.

She had been feeling cramps ever since the fall. They weren’t too bad or debilitating, thankfully she wasn’t bleeding which Libby hoped was a good sign and that her baby was okay. The fall was a brutal reminder of the precious cargo she was carrying and she had to be careful.

The next night Libby was awoken by a forceful cramp rolling through her middle, much worse than any of the others she had felt. Curling round her stomach she breathed heavily through the wave until it passed, and she promptly fell back asleep.

It happened again shortly after, pulling her from her slumber and waking every cell of her body as it peaked, like a coil twisting tighter and tighter. She pushed herself up to sit on the bed. The room was pitch black - Scott controlled the lights and was the only way she knew if it was day or night. She rubbed the aching cramp rolling across her tightened belly with one hand, the other remaining chained to the bedpost. She wished she could move, to walk it off, but with the handcuffs and the darkness she had little options. Instead she got on her hands and knees and rocked steadily through the pain.

“Please be practice contractions…” she whispered to herself. “You can’t come now baby, you’re safe in there. Wait until we get outta here okay?”

The cramp eventually eased and after a few minutes waiting for the next, Libby let herself sink sideways back onto the bed. The baby had got the message, it was just practice pains, she thought to herself as she drifted back off to sleep.

~•~

The light to the basement flickered to life followed by the familiar stomping of feet on wooden steps.

“Morning sweetheart. How’s the mother of my child today?” Scott said in such a cheerful caring tone it caused a shiver to roll up Libby’s spine.

She glared at him from the bed, lying down under the covers half asleep and curled around her bump.

“Still not talking to me eh? Oh well. It won’t be long before I have a son or daughter to talk to.” Scott drawled, as he placed a cup of water and slice of toast onto the bedside table.

Another cramp squeezed her belly and Libby sucked in a breath, hissing through her teeth. She could feel her stomach hardening beneath her fingers as the practice contraction squeezed.

“Honey, are you alright?” Scott’s eyes pinched in cautious concern.

“Just a kick.” Libby said, schooling her face back to a neutral expression.

“Excited to meet their daddy no doubt.” He gleefully said making Libby feel sick.

This baby is NOT yours! She cried in her head.

“Get up and have some breakfast. I’ve got some things to show you today.” Scott said, offering a hand to help her up.

Libby ignored his hand and pushed herself upright. “What things?”

“All in good time my dear. It’s a surprise.” And with that he disappeared back upstairs with a gallop.

She could hear banging and thumping above her and wondered what on earth he was doing. Her stomach growled and she reluctantly nibbled on the toast that was provided. After eating she was left solely with her thoughts and the noises from upstairs. Plus the occasional cramps that continued to plague her. Sitting down became too frustrating and she managed to get herself to standing right beside the bed. Her arm was pulled uncomfortably far forward by the handcuffs, but at least it relieved the pressure in her hips.

The baby felt so low, like it was grinding on her pelvis. But she did feel like her breathing was better now. Libby tried to focus only on the positives and did not dwell enough to realise this meant the baby had dropped into position for birth.

She stayed standing as long as she could beside the bed, riding out the braxton hicks and swaying her hips side to side, but eventually her legs ached from the awkward position so she return to sit on the bed.

The practice contractions continued to wash over her whilst Scott was banging away upstairs. Libby was starting to get hot and sweaty and could barely sit still through them. She found herself biting her lips and humming through them, trying to keep the noise to a minimum. She didn’t want to attract Scott’s attention. She ended up back on all fours on the bed, one hand awkwardly attached to the bed while she rocked forwards and back through the rising waves. It was getting harder and harder to stay silent through these pains and it was getting more and more difficult to convince herself these were only practice contractions.

“Ohhhh… we had a deal baby. You have to s-stay in there…. It’s not s-safe…” Libby moaned quietly to her child, the pressure in her hips mounting with every contraction.

The sounds of movement from above made her panic. Scott was coming. Quickly, she moved from all fours and returned to her sitting position on the bed. Sitting down made everything worse - the heavily feeling of the baby so so low caused the pressure to spike. So much so she nearly threw up, gaging slightly at the same time Scott opened the basement door.

She could hear him huffing and puffing as he stomped every step, he was clearly struggling with something, and she saw the “surprise” before she saw him. It was a crib! Oh hell no, she thought to herself. There is no way my baby is being born here and it will never go in that thing.

“Darling…” he cooed as he got down to the basement “I got you something. Well, I got our baby something - a crib!” He said proudly as he placed it at the foot of the bed.

Libby didn’t say anything; saying something negative could earn her a slap, saying something positive he’d think she was up to something.

“Well?” He asked, clearly getting frustrated with her silence.

“It’s… nice.” She said timidly, he didn’t seem any calmer so she added “thank you.”

With that Scott broke into an unhinged smile. “Only the best for my baby. Made it myself!”

Libby felt the familiar tightening of another contraction approaching. Breathing steadily through her nose, she tried to keep any pain showing on her face.

“What do you think of the design?” He urged, unaware of the struggle happening inside Libby’s womb.

“Great.” She gritted out as calmly as she could.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Scott rushed upstairs leaving Libby alone for a minute.

The second he was out of sight her eyes scrunched and she panted erratically. Her hips were on fire, the baby sinking lower and lower. This was no false alarm, Libby finally admitted to herself.

Scott came bounding downstairs with a pile of baby clothes and blankets. “I also got these. I wasn’t sure if we were having a boy or a girl so got a selection of different clothes. And lots of blankets and toys. Everything we could possibly need.”

Libby couldn’t help it but she groaned loudly and curled over her contracting stomach.

“They’re not that bad!” Scott said, referring to the pile of clothes he’d now dumped into the crib.

“Ooooooh Scott….” Libby whimpered, the pain still barrelling through her body.

“Lib? What is it? What’s wrong?” He crouched down in front of her and placed a hand on her knee.

“I think… hooooo- I think I’m in labour. You have to take me to the hospital.” Libby pleaded.

“What? Oh no, you’re not fooling me again.” Scott recoiled away from her, and started pacing. “You- you tried that before remember. And then you tried to run away, to take my baby away! You were going to leave me Lib! No!! I’m not letting you out of my sight again. No way. No one else can have you. You and that baby are mine!”

“Scott… please. I’m having contractions… I need help… I need doctors…”

“No… I can’t. You’re just going to leave me again. I can’t lose you.” Scott shook his head, like he was trying to reorganise the thoughts inside. “You’re just pretending again, you’re not really having the baby, you’re just trying to escape. Well you can’t trick me twice. Nuh-uh. I’ll come back when you’ve stopped the act.”

“No! Scott!” Libby cried but the door slammed before she could say anything else.

~•~

Libby shouted and pleaded for 10 minutes straight after Scott went upstairs, but he never came back down. She stopped when her voice started to crack and when she thought she heard the front door slam.

This baby was coming and she was trapped - handcuffed to a bed in a basement in the middle of nowhere, the only person for miles was her crazy ex boyfriend who was convinced the baby was his.

Despite her wishful thinking, the contractions just kept on coming. It was as if accepting they were real had made them more frequent and stronger. There was no clock down here, she had no clue how often they struck, but Libby was aware of the gaps in between getting shorter.

Being in labour was bad enough but the fact she couldn’t move due to her restraints made everything a thousand time’s worse. In desperation she tried to squeeze her hand out the metal handcuff, twisting and pulling, but when it started to peel the skin off the back of her hand she screamed and gave up.

She couldn’t sit down anymore, the pain in her hips too great. All fours was bearable but her arms ached after too long. She tried squatting and kneeling against the headboard, standing and swaying beside the bed. Nothing helped. She felt like a caged animal; frustrated, angry, scared. All the while every contraction brought the baby closer and closer to being born, a fate she was trying desperately to avoid. She feared something might go wrong, and she was scared what would happen the moments after she delivered. Scott was clearly unstable, would he leave her here chained to the bed bleeding out and take away her baby?! She needed medical help, not only for the birth but for her best shot at escaping.

When Scott returned he found her on her knees beside the bed, slumped over the mattress and groaning heavily.

“You can stop this charade Libby! I’m not taking you anywhere!” Scott shouted from the steps of the basement.

“Mnnnghhh! It’s not a charade Scott! Oh god…. So much pressure….” Libby whimpered into the mattress, her knees widening instinctually.

“Come off it. You put on a good show but I know you’re faking it.”

Libby could only grunt, roaring against the building pressure between her thighs. An unmistakable splashing sound hit the concrete floor and she cried out. “My waters…. Hooo- I’m not - faking - it…” she panted and turned around to face him.

Scott’s face had paled and his eyebrows shot up. “Y-you really are in labour?”

“Yes,” Libby breathed, turning around awkwardly with the handcuffs and her large bump, sitting down heavily on the now-wet floor “please please take me to the hospital now.”

He didn’t say anything, instead he disappeared quickly back upstairs.

“Scott!!!” She cried out, worried he would just leave her there forever.

He returned a moment later carrying a plastic box. “It’s happening! Don’t worry darling, I have everything we need for our baby to be born.”

It’s not your baby!!!! Libby shouted in her head.

Sitting on the floor, one arm slung up over a shoulder stuck in the handcuffs, she rubbed her low and heavy stomach with the other as Scott began to unpack the box onto the table opposite.

“Towels. Gloves. Scissors. Clamps. Ooh more towels. Little sucker thing. Wow it’s got everything we need in here. Great Amazon find.” Scott commented as he rattled off everything inside the box.

Holy shit! He wants to deliver the baby here! Libby stopped breathing for a moment, panic squeezing at her heart. He was never going to let her go. She was never going to get her baby out of here before it was born.

“Scott… you can’t… be serious…” Libby said with strained breath.

“Shhhhh. It’s okay sweetie. I’ve done all the research, watched loads of videos. I know exactly what I’m doing and I will deliver our baby here.”

“But Scott I need a hospital, with nurses and medication.”

“No you don’t. Women birth babies every day. I’ve had months to prepare for this. It’s going to be fine, it’s going to be perfect.” Scott’s sinister smile chilled her resolve and another contraction struck before she could continue arguing.

He checked his watched and frowned. “You shouldn’t be having another contraction just yet.”

“I can’t hooooo control it!” Libby snipped.

“Oooo is this the part where you get all angry at me for doing this to you?” Scott joked with glee.

“You didn’t do this to me! This isn’t your baby Scott, please just let me go.”

“Don’t lie!!!!!” Scott shouted, an angry fire flashed briefly in his eyes and his fists clenched tight, but a second later the ire quickly disappeared. “You’re just scared, but it’s okay sweetie, I’m here and our baby will be fine.”

“Ohhh god…..” Libby grunted, the baby slipping lower and pressing against her cervix. She had to move, this position was unbearable, but her legs were useless during the raging contraction. She tried to push herself up, yanking her hands forward but the handcuff rattled and left her arm twisted backwards. “Mnnhhh- handcuffs…. Please undo the handcuffs…”

“You know I can’t do that Lib.” Scott said reluctantly.

“Please…. Mnghhhhh the baby…. I need to move. Can’t stay like this Scott…” Libby groaned and whimpered as the contraction peaked and gradually faded.

“I’m sorry honey, I can’t risk it. But let’s get you back onto the bed shall we, you’ll be much more comfortable there.”

The contraction had left her winded, Libby didn’t have the strength to argue anymore. But when Scott approached and went to help her up she managed to grit “Don’t touch me!” batting his advancing hands away.

“That’s gonna be difficult when I’m delivering our child.” Scott sarcastically replied.

Libby’s stomach rolled, not from a contraction but at the disgusting thought of Scott between her legs. Nausea bubbled inside, rising up her throat. She retched. “I think I’m gonna be sick…”

Scott jumped back as she dry heaved. “Erm…. I’ll get a bucket. Hang on.”

Libby struggled up to her knees, clinging sideways to the bed, and vomited all over the floor. The force of her stomach expelling its contents pushed the baby against her dilating cervix and towards the birth canal. She couldn’t stop herself from bearing down at the same time.

No no no… don’t push. Her brain cried but it wasn’t something she had control over.

By the time Scott returned with a bucket Libby had crawled back into the bed, leaving behind a puddle of amniotic fluid and vomit on the floor.

“Jeeze Libby, you’ve made a right mess. I’m glad we’re down here now, that would have been a nightmare to clean the carpets upstairs.”

“…water…” Libby panted, curled up on the bed and holding her hardened stomach, too exhausted to do anything other than bear through the labour pains tearing apart her body.

“Okay, sure.” Scott picked up the glass from the table and gently poured it into Libby’s dry mouth. “Everything will be okay Libby, our baby is nearly here.” He whispered, placing a grimy hand onto her bump and feeling the swell, his eyes hungrily lighting up as his fingers caressed the curve.

~•~

She was dying. This was how it would end; trapped in the dirty basement of her crazy ex boyfriend. She never got to meet her baby, or get married, never got to buy her own home, or travel the world. The pain was so much she could barely see. Curled up on the bed Libby groaned into the pillow as the latest contraction squeezed her body in on itself. She was vaguely aware of Scott flapping around the room, he was talking but she couldn’t hear what he was saying. The only thing she could focus on was the mass of the baby’s head sitting right behind her opening, and she was doing everything she could not to push.

The last few hours had been torture. She’d thrashed around the bed, screaming and begging to be freed, to be taken to the hospital. When transition hit she was brought back onto all fours, grunting and pushing without any semblance of control. Scott rubbed her back and encouraged her through it. She didn’t have the strength to bat him off but she did manage to aim her next round of vomiting onto his feet. And all the while Scott refused to unlock the handcuffs and she remained chained to the bed.

Now she was lying on her side over the covers, exhausted, her body completely and utterly drained. Her knees were curled up as much as she could, her bump squashed between her thighs and her breasts. The contractions were right on top of each other and she panted heavily through each one.

Don’t push! Don’t push! Don’t push! she told herself again and again.

“Right, the waters boiled, everything’s disinfected. Clamps and scissors ready. Towel, check. All we need now… is the baby…” Scott muttered, organising and reorganising the equipment.

Ever since the well-timed vomit, he had kept a grateful distance from Libby. He looked through all the toys and clothes in the crib, talking about all the things he would do with his child, trips they’d make, sports they’d play. He was in his own little world, Libby was just a background character.

Relentless contractions kept hitting her one after the other, she breathed as quietly as she could, tears leaking past her lashes from the effort it was taking not to push. She could feel the baby start to stretch her lips, the head inching further and further even without her active pushing. He’d removed her underwear not long after her waters had broken but her dress remained on her sweaty body, thankfully covering her lower half as she laid on the bed. Libby’s legs slightly parted of their own accord as the baby slipped lower. Still curled up on her side, the baby had a clear exit from its mother, but she couldn’t bring herself to move. Scott was ignoring her when she was lying like this and it was the only position that didn’t make her scream. And yet it also proved to be aiding her delivery.

When the next contraction barrelled straight after its predecessor Libby found herself holding her breath and it was only when the burning feeling started that she realised she was pushing. But she couldn’t stop. Gasping another breath she pushed once more, the baby stretching her wider and wider. An involuntary grunt escaped the labouring mother and alerted Scott to her actions.

“Are you…. Libby - are you pushing?! Is it time?” Scott jumped and rushed over to the bed.

Libby curled further over, her face burying into the pillow, squashing her bump and raising her backside. She groaned long and deep as she pushed the baby further out.

“Oh babe, you can’t push like that! You need to get in the correction position for delivery.” Scott said assuredly with all the delusional confidence his “research” had given him.

He took her bent leg, rolling her over onto her back and she screamed. “Scott! No!” The pain was excruciating, her spine was being stabbed, the fire burning between her thighs. She needed to push but she couldn’t when he kept moving her body.

“You need to be in the right position. Come on now, I know what I’m doing.”

“Stop… I can’t… I need to push…” Libby grunted.

“Wait a minute darling, you’re not ready just yet.”

Scott pulled her up to a sitting position and pushed her back against the headboard, pointlessly fluffing the limp old pillows behind her. Her legs were dragged apart and knees were bent and he jumped onto the foot of the bed and looked up her dress.

“Oh my gosh I can see the head!!!” He squealed. He threw her dress up higher, creasing the fabric just below her baby bump, fully exposing Libby’s vagina and the oval shaped crown of the head.

“Push Libby! You can push now!” He urged.

“I’m not-having a contraction-” Libby panted, furious she had been moved into this ridiculous and torturous position. Nothing about it felt right to her body, she wanted to go back on her side, to kneel, squat, anything but this.

“Oh… erm… well on the next one then. Push. No wait, I forgot the equipment.” Scott bounced off the bed and collected all the sterilised equipment he’d been preparing in readiness. “Ha! All that excitement, nearly forgot these.” He placed the items next to him, by her feet. The metal scissors glinted as they caught the light.

A desperate idea began to form in her head, but a contraction soon swept over her and pulled her focus to the burning ring between her thighs.

“Yes!!! Go on Libby! Push!!!” Scott cried.

Curling forward Libby pushed, her body squeezing the baby lower, its head stretching her wider. She grabbed her thighs, gulped another breath, and pushed. The scissors caught the light again with the movement on the bed. If she could just grab them…

“It’s coming, keep it going honey!” Scott yelled and she could feel his trembling hand between her legs.

Libby huffed releasing the push. It was too much, it was too big…

“Come on baby, go again, you’re so close.” Scott urged.

“Hooo-hoooo- okay…. Here it comes….!!!!” Libby threw herself forward curling over her bump once more. With Scott’s focus on the crowning baby she quickly grabbed the scissors and hid them in the gathered fabric of her dress. She screamed as the baby reached a full crown. Panting frantically her body twitched as the baby stretched her so wide she thought she’d be torn in two. Then it slipped further and with a sudden wail the baby’s head was delivered.

“Wow! The heads out, my baby’s head is born.” Scott awed.

Leaning closer his hands trembled towards the newly born head sitting between her thighs. No! You are not touching my baby! Libby thought, and she grabbed the hidden scissors and plunged them straight into Scott’s neck as she released an animalistic maternal wail.

Scott’s eyes bulged out, roaring in agony as the sharp scissors pierced deep into his muscles. He jumped back, standing for the briefest second staring in horror at her, before collapsing to his knees. A drowning choked sound gargled his throat and when he pulled the scissors from his neck the jets of blood sprayed across the room.

Libby watched, in shock at what she’d just done, as Scott clutched his neck, choking and bleeding. After a few strangled seconds he collapsed face first on the ground.

“Oh my god… oh my god….” Libby trembled, adrenaline and fear pumping through every cell in her body. She had to get out of there.

Twisting awkwardly around, she held the handcuff steady with her free hand and pulled her other through the tiny gap. The skin ripped from her hand, the metal scraping bone, she yelled out in pain but didn’t stop pulling until her bloodied hand was free.

It was as if she had left her physical body, the pain a dull echo compared to the survival instinct to get out of this basement. “I’m gonna get you outta here…” she panted, putting a gentle hand over the baby’s head between her legs. She scrambled off the bed, legs bowed as she cupped the head, and rushed toward the stairs of the basement.

Libby was careful, her previous encounter with this wooden staircase not ending well, climbing wide legged step after step towards freedom. She barely made it halfway when she was struck by another contraction. Holding the head with one hand and gripping the bannister tight with the other, her body squatted as it tried to push.

“Mnghhhhhhh! Oohhhhhh hang on baby…. Mnghhhhhh…. Not yet.” She could feel herself pushing hard, the shoulders starting to press against her, itching to come out, but with a firm hand and heavy panting she made it through the contraction.

When she reached upstairs she was surprised how familiar it all was, Scott had taken her here once when they were dating. It wasn’t much, the furniture and decor were dated, but it was a nice family holiday home in a nice rural location. She shuddered when she thought of the secret prison that was hidden below her feet.

Being familiar with the property made her escape easier, she knew the layout and of course where he kept the keys - in the side dish by the fridge. Grabbing the car keys Libby headed for the door and threw it open. But the baby didn’t want to wait any longer.

She hung on to the doorframe for dear life as the raging contraction took hold. “No no no!!!! We’re so close mnnnnnghhhhhh!!!!” Her legs widened as she squatted, pushing uncontrollably against the wall of her hand that held the baby’s head. The shoulders were slipping through… she could feel them stretching… “Ohhh fuck!” She cried, desperately pushing and holding the baby in at the same time.

When the near constant contraction let up just the tiniest bit, Libby made a break for it and ran to the car, both hands between her legs cupping the emerging baby. Unlocking the car with the press of the button she threw open the back door and clambered inside. She quickly locked the door, scared that Scott would somehow still be coming after her, and when she heard the reassuring click of the locks she huffed an exhausted cry.

But the baby was coming, and it was coming now. On her hands and knees in the back seat Libby finally gave in to nature and pushed in earnest, grunting long and deep as the shoulders stretched and slipped out. Lifting up onto her knees to catch the infant she released a primal roar with the final push and the baby slipped into her bloodied hands.

“Ohhhhhh hey baby, it’s okay it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Libby cried, pulling the little boy to her chest. Wiping his face clear he gave a little cough and started crying, soon matched with the tears of his mother.

“We did baby, we got out.” Libby panted and cried, safe with her baby inside the locked car. After a few minutes she wrapped the baby up against her chest with the towel, umbilical cord still connecting mother and child, and she hesitantly opened the door and got into the drivers seat. Starting the engine, Libby drove herself and her new baby to safety.

[bogmonstergeneral]

“pickles HAS to be cis bc he’s a misogynistic/homophobic/douchebag smth smth toxic masculinity smth” SHUTUP. SHUTUP

trans ppl can suck. trans ppl can be misogynistic douchebag dildoheads who have been totally brainwashed by toxic masculinity. i’m so sorry he’s not your smol liddel boi or smth WHATEVER. take ur weird infantilzation of queer characters somewhere else. fuck off ugly

i’m so sorry brendon didn’t write a squeaky clean queer character for you to play with. that’s an almost fifty something year old trans man who fucking reeks of piss and vomit and gets called mother and uses the word faggot. that man is going to hell when he dies - not bc he’s trans, but bc he’s a piece of shit. but by god, if you think a character is getting into heaven scot-free, then thats prob not a well written character.

[deadindeathvalley]

Okay, I'm dusting off my OLD emo bandom hat to be real with y'all fuckers for a second. This blog started in 2009 as a Panic fan blog so I know what I'm talking about.

My hot take is these new wave "Ryan Ross" fans don't actually like Ryan as a person, they just parasocially cling to pictures of him from when he was 19 in 2006 because he's "gender" or whatever and put him on this pedestal because he was a skinny white man in eyeliner who wrote some bops over 20 years ago. (When they were literal toddlers.)

But the truth is Ryan distanced himself from that person. By 2007 he wanted nothing to do with his old emo self and his old music. (Hence the hipster makeover.) He was uncomfortable in the spotlight and didn't want to be famous. By 2009 he wanted out completely.

I just have this feeling he would be super uncomfortable with all of this worship of his old self, AND y'all dragging him into this drama by spamming his name at Brendon anytime that man does anything.

Ryan and Brendon have no hard feelings. You're manufacturing drama between two men who want nothing to do with it and you're no better than the fans who were constantly invading their privacy over a decade ago.

Leave Ryan alone. If he wanted attention he wouldn't have logged off social media 15 years ago. Go listen to AFYCSO and have your feelings but STOP with the Brendon death threats and STOP spreading lies about Brendon to make your fave look better.

Ryan has done a lot of fucked up shit to. They were all white teenage boys on drugs in the 2000s who got thrust into the limelight suddenly and had to figure out how to be good people.

IDGAF if you hate Brendon but keep it to yourself. None of the bandmates have hard feelings with one another. Worry about the hatred you have for yourself instead. People who are okay don't act like that.

Love,

An elder emo.

[ultramori]

VOICEACTOR VOLUNTEER FRIENDS WANTED!!!!

Um, hey guys, it's Ultra again LMAO

I have a handful of projects that I need voiceactors for, but for now I'm focusing on one; Orange Analog, an animated analog horror(?????) series on my Youtube channel that I've already started writing the script for. A coworker of mine a while back said that I should always plan ahead when hiring volunteers even way before I'm done with the story, so I guess there's no harm in doing so? As the big text at the top reads, it's exactly as it says on the tin, but just having people to talk to about my series in general would be nice, too!

Below are the roles I'll be needing:

A calm, casual man with a deep voice. Expect verbalizing a lot of curiosity

Basically just Brendon from Home Movies. He just sounds like him. But it's important to be capable of getting really angry and generally upset

An old man with a lot of spirit and joy, his voice brimming with personality. Also a puppeteer who voiceacts on his own, giving his character a deeper but sillier voice. I'd really prefer if the voiceactor for the puppet and the puppeteer were the same person

Basically the first one again but African American I guess I dunno. It can't be the same voice that'd be confusing but honestly the two characters have similar speech patterns and stuff so

A young transgender woman who's responsible but even happier to be here, very enthusiastic and silly

A quiet man with a deep, monotone voice

And here are the requirements to join:

At least 15 years old. Please.

NOT A JERK!!!!

Has a Discord account (I'll make a Discord server for us :])

Has previous experience voiceacting

Be capable of showing strong emotions in your voice and sound very natural! Very important! Like, Smiling Friends level of natural voiceacting if possible?? Okay probably not possible but you get the example I'm generally trying to give

And that's all she wrote! Please keep in mind this is not only unpaid work, but also my first time hiring buddies to help me with a project, so we're all here to have fun and not worry about me unintentionally making little mistakes cuz that's just me jahshd,,, I'm looking forward to my future team!! If you're interested, please fill out the form below and I'll hire you if you meet all the requirements :)

[0little-miss-scare-all0]

General Dethklok/Managerial Headcanons :3

A/N: this may or may not be dry asf i'm writing b4 the hcs so i don't forget😭😭

this is NOT proofread

Nathan Explosion :

i think he's like 6'5

its just this weird hunch i have

definitely somewhere from 28-35

i don't make the rules man😔

obviously Native American from the whole bloodlines episode

i can't remember what it's called for the life of me😭

i don't have any other nationality hcs for him

i think the show does it well enough

has gauges idc

they probably aren't hella big, but they're there

maybe an industrial or some kind of cartilage piercing

i think his favorite song they've made is Mutilation on a Saturday Night

it makes him think of early dethklok without the prophecies and shit

favorite album is the Dethalbum

probably has a bias bc it's the first project they did (totally not projecting rn😭)

song that makes me think of him is Ugly Model Mannequin by Cane Hill

idk why, it just does

Skwisgaar Skwigelf :

he's 6'10 NO ONE can convince me otherwise

his tagline isn't "taller than a tree" for nothing man

i saw someone say that Brendon himself said Nathan and Skwisgaar are the same age, so i'm not touching on that

biggest Swede ever man

like he quite literally had the Swedish flag on his belt buckle in Doomstar Requiem

go look it up i'm not joking

but maybe his dad is from like Switzerland to make him a slight bit more interesting

i doubt that he'd have any piercings

maybe his ears but that's it

i just cant see him with anything crazy

someone mentioned an elf ear body mod for him

makes sense that fairy

that last one was uncalled for hold on😭😭

this guys favorite song is awaken

he just loves the instrumentals

the little do-do-do-do do do do do do they do

idk how to explain it just go give it a listen😭

favorite album is the Dethalbum III

i think he likes how all the songs sound similar, so it isn't hard to remember the riffs (don't mention my terminology i am the farthest thing from a guitarist😭)

song that reminds me of him is Viking by Slaughter to Prevail

i just think he relates to the whole viking lineage thing

also the breakdown goes HARDDD

Toki Wartooth :

maybe like 6'1

this is going off gut feeling, not anything related to the show

i think he's like 25

he didn't look that old in Doomstar Requiem

the type of guy to sneak in like 20 cats and give them treats to not make noise

i think he regresses to like 6-7

idk why i just think yk

i think he also has gagues

they're probably white

he totally has an eyebrow piercing that pickles did in like 1900 BC that he didn't want anymore so he just let that hoe close

i think with the way his family is he would just be 100% Norwegian

no ifs not buts

might know some Latin

probably just prayers and shit like that

his favorite song they've made is Dethharmonic

or the Deththeme

for Dethharmonic he likes the orchestral elements

for the Deththeme he just likes that his name is first😭

i'd say his favorite album is the second one

just bc the album cover is purple, literally no other reason

probably bc it stands out from all other death metal albums

purple probably isn't considered a "metal" color (it should be though)

a song that reminds me of him is Summer Breeze by Type O Negative

i think he'd appreciate how chill it is

Pickles the Drummer :

bro easily 5'6-5'8

he's a short king

Wisconsin 100% his family is from no where else

like the drummer family goes back to the 13 colonies

obviously he has four piercings

those eyebrow ones

i think he has some on his ears

cartilage but not industrial

his favorite song they've made is Hatredcopter

he just loves how he sounded and the drums (based)

i forgot to say how old he is

he's the oldest, so i'd say like 39

they're not allowed to be 40 bc i said so

i think his favorite album is Dethalbum IV

it just makes him proud to see how far they've come since Dethalbum I

a song that makes me think of him is Wrong Way by Sublime

and Your Mama Won't Know by Pretty Boy Floyd

he's most definitely taunting TF out of the band with that "mom" shit

"go get mommy a bottle" "give mommy the remote"

he's insufferable (i would be too)

William Murderface :

he's 5'10 and i HAVE to be firm on that

probably like 30

MAYBEEE 33 if i feel generous

he hates pickles

the food, not the drummer

along with Toki, he also loves Christmas

it just "isn't brutal" so he won't admit it

he's like a 5 year old when that shit rolls around

that's why he wanted that special so damn bad

his favorite album is also Dethalbum IV

he just loves the new sound

a song that reminds me of him is Subliminal by Suicidal Tendencies

i feel like he'd like their whole self titled and Lights... Camera... Revolution

i cant speak for all of Freedumb, bc i only listen to Cyco Vision, but he'd like that song too

i get a big Murderface vibe from them

maybe it's the whole punk thing

and Murderface being a Nihilist

it just ties it all together with a nice big blood red bow

i think hes latino like i've seen everyone say

he can probably speak Spanish well

speaks the Spain dialect (i'm not very educated about this tell me all abt it in either reblogs or comments)

Charles Offdensen :

he's like 6'2 or 6'3

i cant decide

i think it would be so funny if he was like 40 and the band made him seem 56

in reality he's probably like 42

that seems right to me

went to some high end law school

i'm pretty sure that's when they said he jousted

idk i just remember he can do it

i like to think he's wasian

Korean and Swiss if we wanna be specific

he grew up in American bc i love my country✊🏻😔😔

anyway, i say wasian bc he has a monolid i think

at least it looks like it to me

maybe it's just his glasses hiding it who knows

probably from the middle of buttfuck nowhere

like some place in Oregon

his favorite album is the Doomstar Requiem soundtrack

IDC WHAT YALL HAVE TO SAY

i think he likes how fun it is

and is very cocky about how good his parts are

his favorite song tho is Poisoned by Food

the opening scream is his shit

a song that reminds me of him is Visage by LANDMVRKS

it's kind of quiet at the beginning which helps him lock in for the rest of the song and all the songs after it

probably listens to metal all day, then goes to bed and listens to some goth shit

maybe even classical if he's feeling posh

wasn't raised religious, but still celebrated the holidays

the christian ones specifically

a canon fidgeter

in Dethdinner he was wiggling his fingers

thank you to that one charles lover with the spreadsheet of his behaviors i forget their handle

they pointed it out and i've geeked abt it ever since

Abigail Remedlindrinc :

don't quote me on her last name i cant spell that fuckin thing😭

i think she's like 5'8 easily

probably 34

not much older than Murderface but definitely not younger

shes probably from somewhere normal like Pittsburgh

ofc i say where i'm from for normal

anyway she's definitely not from PA idk what i was on abt

i cant think of a specific place she'd be from

i feel bad i don't have much for her i love her sm

she probably still has Nathan's number saved

in my heart they're still best friends

in canon god does she hate him

she's just so amazing i love her

Dick Knubbler :

this man omfg

he's like 5'10 too

maybe 5'11 on a good day

he looks old

maybe like 40

up there with charles 100%

hes such a goofy mf i hate him

but like i hate him lightheartedly

my dad loves him he thinks he's funny

he looks like the type of mf to talk in his sleep

he definitely rolls around a lot too

has to have a big ass bed or his frail ass will fall off

i think of him when i hear any pop song from the 80s

like Taylor Dayne, and Prince even though i think he was 90s

idk man i wasn't alive😭

[black-klok-youth-pastor]

And thankfully for you lovely people, the organizers even organized proof that I kept my word even if you can’t see the text!

What he’ll do with it I have no idea but he found it very funny and appreciated it all the same

Alright I depart to see Dethklok in my old hometown in about a week but now comes the important question

Because I got this custom made one as a joke which would be pretty funny to LARP as what an in-universe Charles stan would probably look like ,but I really love my Army of Doomstar shirt looking all badass. The other two are also tempting but to a lesser degree…so at this point why not leave it to the Tumblr hivemind.

DISCLAIMER: if you see me there, meet ups are fine just please practice basic internet safety thank you

[kidstemplatte]

i asked my best friend who doesn’t know ghost to name the papas and give them personalities.

here is what she said. i can’t stop laughing. she nailed it. i’m literally in tears.

nihil-

big fred energy. i feel like he’s like farkle from girl meets world. nerd asf and very annoying. messed around in his moms makeup for halloween, no older than 25 but still lives with his parents.

primo-

has a fucking name like linus the mystical. oh this bitch wishes he was the fucking wizard from sofia the first. he has mad vision problems and that’s why his eye makeup is fucked up. lil slytherin ass about to cast a spell on you at a magic themed restaurant. cheap ass costume (he bought it from party city)

secondo-

this is tate from murder house, bitch ass needs anger management classes asap. frequent victim of flashback. he really hates tomatoes. permanently constipated and rlly upset about it

terzo-

william. the least weird so far but also the worst makeup. best outfit though. lowkey giving brendon urie v&v era. but he makes these high heels work (ik it’s not v&v leave me alone) his fruity ass will not walk on wet grass and only drinks mimosas even at night. he thinks he gets bitches but he actually has zero game.

(papa) copia-

oh his name is like angelo or smth. do not get me started on this bitch. while all the others were significantly under 30 this man is like 60. he hates the mailman and gets really pissed when his neighbors’ dog barks. his house is like the neighborhood haunted house and the kids knock on his door as a dare on halloween and he answers the door every 4th kid and tells them to fuck off. his ass saw the movie saw once and said this is my new look forever. he only leaves his house once a week for a 10 microwaveable meals and an entire jar of theatre grade black and white face paint.

cardinal copia-

holy fuck this bitch (paul) is the worst one. makeup still bad but also he didn’t even try. he thinks he’s the shit but he’s the most annoying one, worse than fred, no one likes him. he asks everyone to call him frederick the fierce or some shit and they’re all like “shut up paul” his favorite movie character is uncle fester and he gets way too into the younger one’s jokes in the way millennials try to assimilate w gen z humor, but his 45 yr old ass always fails

[bullet-prooflove]

What I've Booked Onto The Schedule This Week:

One Rule - Dean Archer - You and Dean try to rekindle your relationship.

Live - Dean Archer - You and Dean get real with each other during couples counselling.

4500 Follower Celebration Bingo: Exposure - Brendon Acres - Your relationship comes to light after you're papped during a proposal.

4500 Follower Celebration Bingo: Key To Her Heart - JD Dempsey - You and JD fall into old patterns during a UC op.

4500 Follower Celebration Bingo: Three Minutes - Sean Archer - Sean realises you might be pregnant after you experiance some sickness.

4500 Follower Celebration Bingo: Adrenaline - Ryan - You run into a man you arrested during date night.