#slowburn to obsession

[slashersgirlypop]

Grilled Cheese Chapter 2.

(October 31st, 1978)

   “C’mon, Caleb! You totally cheated!” I whined as my brother laughed, tallying up another line on the game sheet. 

 “Nuh-uh! Did not!” 

 “Did too! When I came back from the bathroom I saw you put the case file thingy back in the middle! You cheater-cheater-case-file-thingy-peeker!” 

 “Maybe you’re just a sore loser and a bad detective,” Caleb said, snickering as he took a sip of his juice. 

 “I am too a good detective! You’re just a cheate-” A knock on the door caught both of our attention. My brother got up, walking to the door. He opened the door, revealing two police officers, wet from the pouring rain. I cautiously crept up behind my brother. 

 “Hello officers, is everything okay?” 

 “Is this the home of Mr. and Mrs. (L/N)?” The officer sullenly asked, taking off his hat and shaking the water off it. 

 “Yes, sir. Why?” The police officer glanced at me, before looking back at my brother. 

 “Maybe this is something we can discuss not in front of the presence of your little sister.” 

 “Why? Are my mom and dad okay?” I asked. The police officer gave me a hesitant and pitiful look. 

 “Sweetie, maybe you should go upstairs while I talk to your broth-” 

 “No! I want to know! What’s wrong?” The police officer sighed, looking uncomfortably at his shoes before turning his gaze to my brother, a sympathetic look on his face. 

 “I’m sorry, but, your parents were in an accident. They…They didn’t make it by the time the ambulance got to the hospital.”

 I jolted awake from the couch, accidentally throwing Miss Petunia off the couch. I pressed a hand to my heart, shaking a bit before swallowing and composing myself. Miss Petunia meowed at me indignantly from the floor. I leaned down and scratched under her chin, earning her favor again. 

 “I’m sorry Miss P. Just a bad dream of a bad night.” I sighed, taking a moment. A bad night it was. That night it was cold and wet, with rain coming down harder than boulders falling off a cliff. My parents were coming back after having their “date night” and apparently, so was a drunk driver from some bar. He made it out alive, but not my parents. While they had died in an accident obviously caused by him, he got off with a slap on the wrist, thanks to his fancy lawyer. The bastard didn’t even look sorry for what he did.

 I got off the couch and stretched, glancing at the TV. It was still running that news story about some asylum patient escaping some place. I shook my head and switched off the TV, heading to the steps and up the stairs. Miss Petunia followed me, letting out small chirps every so often. 

 “Well Miss. P, what should we do today? Go to the store and buy stuff for a cake? Maybe indulge and buy myself the good chocolate? Or should I just eat the whole bag of Halloween candy and not give any to the kiddies coming by the street?” 

 “Mmmrah!” She responded, rubbing her head on my leg. 

 “Get stuff for a cake it is. Are you excited to put on our costumes for tonight?” I managed to find a cute and simple vampire costume and a pair of “bat wings” for her. The wings were made for a small dog, but they would fit her just fine. She stopped her rubbing at the mention of the costume, giving me a side eye before sneezing. I laughed. Even though we never get any trick or treaters, I still like to dress up for the holiday. 

 “That’s certainly an answer, babycat.” I headed into my room, going for the dresser. I pulled out a cream colored argyle sweater, boot cut denim jeans, and some underwear. Entering the bathroom, I threw the clothes on the counter and started the shower, cranking the heat up high.

 After cleaning myself up and putting on my clothes, I walked downstairs, drying my hair on the towel. I walked into the kitchen, almost tripping thanks to a very hungry cat who insisted on weaving between my legs.

 I ate breakfast quietly, reading the mail that my neighbor, Mr. Steinberg, was kind enough to leave in the house for me. 

 Nothing new in the mail, bills and random fliers for various kinds of ads. I got into my car after feeding Miss. Petunia and drove to the store, buying needed groceries and stuff to make a make for myself. 

 “Hello, Mrs. Gracie.” I grinned at the older lady behind the register, loading my groceries onto the counter.

 “Happy birthday, (Y/N)! You’re finally 21! Any plans?” She exclaimed, grinning happily at me. I smiled back at her, just as enthusiastic. 

 “Just baking some cupcakes, chilling with my cat and eating some candy. I wanna enjoy my day off as much as I can.” 

 “Aw, that’s nice. Have you heard from Caleb?” 

 “Nope.” Then again, he hasn’t said anything to me since he left. The only reason I know he’s still alive is because the portion of the checks he sends me for the house once every month. 

 “Hm. I hope he’s okay. Have a wonderful birthday sweetheart! Give Petti extra love from me!” I said goodbye and took my groceries to my car.

 The rest of the daylight was spent baking my birthday dessert and preparing the table at the end of my driveway for Halloween. Around 3, I began to frost the (your favorite cupcake flavor) cupcakes when I got a knock on the door. 

 Opening it, I found Mr. Steinberg.

 “Hey Mr. Steinberg! I was just frosting up some cupcakes. What can I do for you?” 

 “I vas just checking on you, kindchen*. Have you heard about ze escaped patient?” He inquired. 

 “I mean, I heard bits about it but not much, why? Is it bad?” 

 “Herr Bracket said somezhing about him being a real bad guy, ja. He murdered someone in his family.” I frowned, before shaking my head. 

 “That’s a shame. Well, I should be okay. I got that gun you got me for my nineteenth, so I should be safe and protected.” To be honest, I sold a great majority of the gun’s ammo to help pay for the house. I only had six bullets left for the pistol. Mr. Steinberg, of course, didn’t know this, or else he would chide me exasperatedly in German. 

 “Good. I shall leave now. Kall me if you need anyzhing, ja?” I nodded and smiled, waving him as he walked down the dusty wooden steps, letting out a puff of smoke from his cigar. 

 I wandered back inside to the kitchen, continuing to frost my cupcakes, my mind wandering to the guy who escaped that asylum. I brushed it off, not too worried about it. I mean, in the town of Haddonfield, Illinois, what are the chances he would come to my humble little abode? 

 By the time the sun was setting, I was sitting on the couch, dressed in my little costume with Miss Petunia purring on my lap, the bat wings absolutely adorable on her. We were watching some movie, when my stomach growled. I glanced at the clock. 5:30. Eh, time for dinner. 

 After letting Miss Petunia out the back door to use the restroom, I pulled out ingredients out of the fridge for grilled cheese. Yeah, I had it last night, but I’m looking for comfort food since I’m only spending my birthday with my cat and no family. After I prepared my meal, arranging a side of BBQ chips and a few grapes, I sat it on the table. As I pulled the seat out, I heard the doorbell ring. I frowned. 

 Normally, trick or treaters don’t really come down this road. No streetlamps or any light sources make this road a “scary zone” for the kids. I grabbed the candy bag, after scattering a few pieces on the plate. Opening the door, I felt a rush of déjà vu. 

 “May I help you, sir?” I asked the officer, feeling a sense of dread. He smiled at me. 

 “Hello, ma’am. Just wanted to know if you have seen a white car with a Smith’s Grove Sanitarium sign on it?”

 “No, why?” 

 “No reason ma’am, just checking homes to see if the escapee may be in the area. Ooh, is that a Cherry Sour?” I offered the bag to him, to which he grabbed the candy with glee. 

 “I personally haven’t seen anything, because I’ve been out of the house and doing chores all day, but maybe my neighbor saw something?” I offered giving him a shrug and friendly grin. 

 “Alright. Well, you have a safe night ma’am. If you do see him or anything like that, please don’t hesitate to call. Have a happy and safe Halloween.” I waved him off as he walked down the steps, closing the door. I placed the candy on the couch, walking past it and towards the kitchen. Before I dug into my food, I heard a scratching at the backdoor, along with panicked meowing. I opened it, and Miss Petunia came sprinting in, hiding under the couch.

 “Hey, what’s wrong, kitty?”

 “GRAAAAH! Hisssssss,” She replied, glaring behind me. I turned my head and saw nothing but dark trees and the night. Leaving the door open, I turned back to the shaking cat, gently coaxing her out from under the couch and into my arms, petting her gently. 

 “Shh, its okay, shh, it was probably just a branch that spooked you, sweet girl,” I cooed, feeling her start to calm down again before tensing and scratching my arms. Yelping, I dropped her, and she ran into the front room. I ran after her, worried. 

 Finally, I was able to make her calm down after ten minutes of her shaking and growling in fear.

 “Poor baby. Why don’t you watch some cartoons or something, yeah? Those always calm you down.” Ever since she was a kitten, her attention would latch onto the moving animated figures. It was the only thing that would calm her down after being spooked by anything. 

 After turning on some cartoon, I headed back to the back door. I closed it and turned to my sandwich, pausing. 

 Half of my grilled cheese was missing, along with some chips.

~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~🔪~

I figured since i don’t go back to college till jan 9, I could try to write a chatper a day, so yeah. STRONG EMPHASIS ON T R Y LOL. Also, it might take me a bit to make a master list bc I don;t know how to put links into tumblr lmao. K bye slasher sluts.

[jadeandroses]

Prompt by @hercarisntyours (which. Okay. I didn’t follow it to the letter. I hope that’s okay 👉👈)

the only way to bring me down

(Ao3 version) (next) (last)

(Warning: TF One spoilers ahead!)

If you had asked her before this exact moment, Elita would have said there wasn’t a reckless circuit in her body. She was focused. Her programming pushed her toward success, not risks and the potential of failure. She certainly wasn’t to the point of that one subordinate of hers, constantly breaking into archives and trying to saved trapped coworkers…

…and yet.

It took something to jump after him. Gall, perhaps? An undeniable sense of recklessness she hadn’t let herself explore, before? A sudden flare in her spark, whatever emotion it was that fueled the scream she let echo as she saw him shot?

Whatever it was, it didn’t matter much anymore—she was plummeting after him, and that was that.

(Bee’s scream as she jumped would forever echo in her audials.)

She thought they would have hit ground a long time ago. But that was far from the case—where the hard floor would have claimed her spark and whatever was left of his, it now disappeared out from under them. Arcs of energy—electric, buzzing under the ground—came narrowly close to them, and yet, not a one struck. But they were a source of light, for which she would have been grateful, if it weren’t for the fact that every single one illuminated Orion as he turned more and more gray.

Her eyes—and never you mind if they welled over—narrowed, and she lowered herself into a nosedive.

Her head made contact before her arms did. Without quick reflexes, he might have been thrown away from her, but she reached out, faster than any arc of lightning, and pulled him closer.

The wound burned under her touch, but his frame had already gone cold. Even his eyes—so full of light and wonder, even in the darkness of the mines—had gone out.

“You just had to make me believe,” she seethed, “didn’t you?”

The quick wit she had grown to despise was gone, and his lifeless frame didn’t answer. She pulled him into an embrace, just so that she didn’t have to look at his empty, sparkless eyes.

“I said you would bring us hope,” she wept, “not this! Orion, my god, he wasn’t worth it! Why did you have to be so-”

She choked on a sob, and instead howled her grief into the ground below. Her scream echoed, and thankfully, it masked the sounds of her tears.

She hadn’t cried in ages. Not since she was very, very young. It was a sign of weakness, in the mines. Elita needed to be strong, if she was to survive.

She was strong, yes, and she had carved a path for herself. But then Orion came into her life and ruined it all, and stars, she loathed him for it.

…but stars, it had been lonely without his passionate ramblings and bad flirting. It took a journey to the surface to realize just how much she had missed it.

(Maybe that was just constant exposure to Bee’s ceaseless chatter.)

…had she cried like this, when her cog was carved out as a newborn? Or had she been silent, voiceless and scared, like she had been every day of her life after that before Orion came and ruined it?

He had given her a priceless gift—her freedom. Her voice. Her autonomy. Maybe this choice had tossed back it in his lifeless face.

But she didn’t care. He had made his choice. She didn’t have to take it lying down.

And if she had to go back to relying only on herself, to being the only person in this universe she could count on or believe in…

…well. Whether her spark was snuffed out alongside his, or it flickered out trapped and endlessly alone in the dark of the mines, she would die one way or the other.

At least this way, it was her choice.

~~~~

He was gone.

He was gone, but her spark was still lit—that much she knew. That much, she could feel, deep within her chest, as it flickered right next to the cog of Alchemist Prime.

(The one renowned for his mind. Had she been thinking about it, when she received it, she would have preened.)

But the realization that holy Primus, she wasn’t dead wasn’t quite enough to distract her from the fact that Orion—her stubborn, endlessly optimistic moron of a former employee—was gone. In fact, even his corpse was missing from her arms.

She tensed. She straightened out her legs to stand—only to find no ground under her feet.

And, in front of her, painted in endless shades of stars and blue, backs of figures she only vaguely recognized.

If she had been staring at anything else, she might have looked at the blue sun in front of her, the figures of starlight in front of her, and put two and two together. But there was one in gray, whose back she had stared at as she charged into the unknown.

And suddenly her aching spark lurched.

“Orion!”

There was absolutely no response from anyone. She strained to see better, and, despite his lifeless state, he was glowing.

“What are you doing to him?!”

Still no response.

It was at this point Elita grit her teeth, and began to force her way past the ancient Primes like a barbarian. It didn’t occur to her at all what she was doing. All that mattered was that she get to him.

They resisted her. Even held their arms out to stop her. She thrashed, and even climbed one to see better.

“Stop! Please! He’s my friend! Don’t hurt him!”

As if the dead could feel pain. It was ridiculous. She didn’t even care.

On some unseen signal, though, they parted. No sooner did Elita find her footing did she once again find herself under the intense gaze of Alpha Trion.

It was like the world stopped. Orion—still lifeless, yet lit up like his spark hadn’t been extinguished in the first place—still had his back to her. And yet Alpha Trion stood in front of them both, lit up in starlight.

“Loyal to the very end,” he whispered.

It was reverential. It was almost a question. Even in the face of such might, she stood tall.

“That stubborn little optimist is the only person I’ve ever truly believed in,” she spat. “Of course I followed him!”

She wondered if she should have phrased that differently. That being said, it was the truth, and it hurt—but oh, she couldn’t take it back now. Where once her path had been hers and hers alone, it was one someone had chosen for her. Now, she had a choice—and she wanted nothing more than to stand by him. To help him, in his mission, no matter how stupid or now noble.

Especially now that D had…

It was difficult to say exactly what crossed Alpha Trion’s face. He rumbled approvingly, though.

“We Primes had a High Guard, once. Ones to advise us and to protect us. But more importantly, they were our friends.” Hand on Orion’s shoulder, he continued to speak. “It is a shame that we cannot give such luxuries to him. Instead, he will have you, loyal daughter of Cybertron, to protect him as we cannot.”

Her own frame began to glow, now. Not quite as bright as Orion’s, but almost. There was power coursing through her, filling her every circuit.

(…if she was tasting a fraction of what was coursing through him, she had the distinct feeling she wasn’t quite staring at Orion, anymore.)

“You are one of a kind, dear. Truly, you have earned your name,” he murmured kindly. “And as for our young one, here, I rather like what she said for his name, don’t you, my brethren?”

There was rumbling approval all around her. She was afraid to ask. But she swallowed it.

“…what?”

He turned starlit eyes on her friend, and smiled.

“Arise, Optimus Prime!”

[petrerpkr]

Jegulus is just a Jeverus in a slightly different font. Marauders fans already push severus' entire personality into regulus nowadays

[beanghostprincess]

Can somebody for the love of God show Hirano a bit of Chappell Roan so he listens to Good Luck Babe and stops bothering us all with his fucking sexuality crisis because if I don't see him kissing Kagiura soon I might lose it

[anthonyzoxide]

Program: Procreate (iPad) / Time drawn in: 13 minutes

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

#Alexa Play Heartbreak Feels So Good 

[pa-pa-plasma]

you just made the scientific discovery of the century & you want to tell everyone & your kids are first on that list but you can't find them. you manage to get a hold of your daughter & she says everything is fine but her voice gets tight when you try to mention your work & she sucks in a breath & says she won't keep you from it any longer than she already has & doesn't say bye as she hangs up the phone. you have a sinking feeling in your gut & you really want to get back to what you were doing but. something's wrong. where are your kids. why was your daughter not surprised when you told her. why was she so quick to hang up on you. your husband has the same type of mind & that's probably why neither of you can ignore this odd turn of events & so you decide to track them down. the research can wait. after all, the spook got away somehow afterwards. it's not like you have anything to go through but data & recordings.

[presiding]

hey you know that post about the lamb/guard dog/wolf being a great ot3 dynamic

what if the worst came to pass for the lamb. and the guard dog & the wolf locked jaws and neither will let go

or. what if jessamine came back to haunt daud, and forced him to take responsibility for the events of dishonored 1?

just started posting a new complex psychosexual corvodaud slowburn enemies to lovers fic on ao3

[magnusbae]

I'm meant to be writing so naturally my brain went into asking the real questions— why don't we have fandom music? We have all forms of expressive art, writing, drawing, editing. The more physical forms of art, sewing outfits, forging swords, acting, even audi narrating fics. So basically all art forms in order to further explore our blobros and yet— no music? Why is it? I am genuinely curious why songwriting and music-making is the one form of art that is not present in the daily fandom life? Yes there's music video edits, even people recreating music from shows on piano etc— but that's not what I mean, I mean honest to god making a real, proper, lyric and music and singing original song for your blobro. Why don't we have that?

[cateyeswrites]

Parent Trap (tnt Duo version)

OKAY like I have not been able to stop thinking about a parent trap AU for tnt duo but with a twist!

like imagine Tilin and Tallulah meet at a camp and they don't necessarily look similar but they share a lot of similar traits and have things in common in their little 6-year-old mind)

• They both have just one dad

• They have the same birthday

• They both have an uncle with a T at the beggening of their names

• They both know all of the eggs in the camp and their parents

• Their dads leave them with their relatives all the time

Tilin and Tallulah have half a picture of the most special person to their parents whom they have talked about to them, the kids. A picture that when it's put together is an image of Wilbur and Quackity dancing together at their wedding. Kids being kids start spinning this tale that they are sisters after finding out the most special person whom their own dad has talked about is each other's parent.

When it is time to pick up the kids from camp;

Tilin and Tallulah lock themselves in a closet until their parents personally come and get them themsleves.

Quackity and Wilbur arrive and see each other for the first time in eight years since they got divorced.

and for some reason their kids now think they are twins.

which couldn't be farther from the truth and now they are demanding they all spend time together as a family.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

was thinking abt how my ideal doctor/yaz is when they love each other only sliiiightly more than they hate themselves, but then i was like, you know what might be better actually? if they dont love each other at all

i mean think about it. it's easy. they cant. they havent, like, build a life together. they never had to. love is a promise they didnt make

what passes for romantic feelings for companions in the doctor i think generally is idolisation. yaz has definitely been idolising. depending on your take the doctor might also have been the object of her first queer feelings ever. shes unattainable in like every way for yaz. theres no future to imagine here. there never was. i dont think either of them ever assumed there would be either. theyve had their eyes on the finish line since the beginning

so imagine a reunion. yaz and 14. every barrier now lifted. the doctor no longer lives a life of running from one place to the next; no more being with the doctor means neglecting home. hes suddenly emotionally available too. and they both know,,,Everything. they both know everything theyve never talked about. they reach the finish line and crash over it, into each other, no one had plans for this. a mess

so time to build, right? this is everything they wanted, right? except, is it? they only know each other in extremis. two adrenaline junkies in shared search of a fix. two people unable to stop running, forcibly grounded. yaz has five years of unspoken grievances to air. the doctor about five thousand of unspeakable memories. this is two peas in a powder keg

the doctor attaches in extremes, with abandon, yaz only cautiously, with reservation. neither of them know how to do friendship very well. theyve spent years afraid of losing each other, do you think theyre gonna be able to tolerate being apart now? even if being around each other is pressing every wrong button like a novice pilot or one who never read the manual, and inevitably leads to arguments they both know are years out of date but cant stop themselves from having anyway?

their coping mechanisms might have been malformed but now theyre taken away. dont you think theyre gonna come up with something to replace picking fights with daleks? we've got ptsd à deux and nowhere to go. if they cant be helpful at least they can keep busy. picking fights with each other. having sex with each other, because hey we got this newfound queer sexuality we should try it out, right? none of this is quite right but we're not gonna stop to think now, are we? 

should we talk about the gender thing? oh but youre a timelord, billions of years beyond this petty human obsession. but, youre not. so why not obsess a little. rather this than the other stuff. and yaz likes you as a woman. and rose gets all this trans stuff. keep weaving them in because if you stop they might just fall out. of your orbit, the world, the universe, the story. you'll never see them again and you'll be all alone. again. better keep tying knots

how long until they realise this is worse than it was? how long before they can admit it to themselves? how many people to suggest, to one or the other, that hey maybe you guys should spend some time apart? go on vacation, find a hobby, get a job, talk to other people, give yourself a break. how many people to get snapped and yelled at because what do they know? what does anyone know? nobody does, nobody gets it. ryan and graham left, dan came in too late. nobody else lived their days. nobody could possibly understand whats between them. including them

it's yaz who tries breaking up, of course. takes too long to get there, but she would get there. eventually. the doctor gets mean, all "glad to be home?", all tooth and nail and you cant leave me i leave you, all scoffs and snarls, "we're not together, yaz"

"sure, whatever you say"

but if people stop watching doctor who kills himself. the doctor doesnt say this, of course. but yaz is very proficient in all the ways the doctor does not say things

"yeah well, survived it last time, so"

she doesnt clarify who. doesnt need to. the game of chicken never ended, only changed shape. who falls first, who realises first, who admits first, who stays alive longest after the universe ends. and now, perhaps, whos gonna reach for desperate measures first

place your bets

[bhaalble]

Finally devised an "evil" character I like playing enough to get to Act 2 and god Minthara is not at all what I was expecting (/pos) I'm genuinely obsessed. With all my Morrigan loving heart I love incredibly selfish women with such fragile fragile hearts.

[juniperhillpatient]

I hate “love at first sight” or like instant infatuation in most cases but I think it’s a trope that CAN be done super well it just rarely is. there’s nothing exciting or interesting about two hot people who see each other & instantly fall in love all by itself nonsensically like idk I just don’t believe in that & find it dull. but there’s a way to do it where it’s like “YEAH that makes perfect sense” like two people who suffered something brief but absolutely insane together & can never let go of the thought of one another or someone who saw someone else do something crazy or really fucking cool or stupid & can’t let it go or someone totally isolated who’s decided to make the first person they’ve interacted with or who helped free them into this total savior who walks on water like it CAN be such a neat trope you just gotta sell it right.

[todayisafridaynight]

comic scribbly

[kameyyy]

i love hakari

I giggled and kicked my feet the moment I saw the pictures of Hakari you sent along. Like fr I'm not joking. URGHH I LOVE HIM SO MUCHHHH !!

Like everytime I search up his name on pinterest to add more of him to my board I have to scroll down a loooooot bc pinterest will tell me "Psst! You already saved this Pin to MISH MASH" 😔

The obsession is real and never ending I guess 😔

Glad to have found another Hakari lover though, they're a little rare I fear

[gayofthefae]

Here's the thing also is I feel like we act like GA people are all gonna remain equally as un/invested as they are now and just like go with the flow but also need I remind you I was totally GA and thought Milkvan was really cute and was hesitant to think Will was gay but even once I did didn't even consider Byler as a real outcome until season 4 episode 2 and now I'm here doing this shit soooo...