#that middle painting is my phone wallpaper

[wish-i-were-heather]

"icarus imagined himself to be the stick of a candle, the wings to be the wick, and the sun to be the flame. for a small time, the wick would burn. the candle would be alight, shining brilliantly, lighting up the space for as long as the wick could last. until inevitably, the wick reached its end, the candle burning out. until the wick finally died, reaching the stick of the candle and engulfing that, too, in flames."

[mrchiipchrome]

The Museum

W.C. - 5.2 k

this is so the 'pookie looks absolutely fire' tiktok couple coded

thank you to the anon that requested this, much love to you:)

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The skittles made a crunching sound as your molars bit down on them, it was an every day snack for you, tasting the rainbow more often than not. It was a relatively new habit, but when your ex had broken up with you, you promised yourself to become a better person.

It obviously had to be you who had something wrong with them, otherwise she wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone else and out of love with you. Quitting smoking was the first thing on your agenda, hence the skittles.

The next thing was to get away from the small southern town in Texas, move so far away that you left the country entirely. The only thing you’d taken with you on the plane was a carryon with 2 changes of clothes, your cowboy hat and a dream of bettering your life.

The third thing you bettered was your health, going out for a run every morning through the streets of London, going to the gym after work, doing push-ups before bed. It worked wonders, the tips you got from the ladies at the bar where you worked were simply incredible.

The fourth thing you wanted to improve was your cultural knowledge, the exact reason why you were standing in the middle of a museum, old renaissance paintings in every corner of the large room. It was something you appreciated, none of that modern bullshit where people just taped a banana to a canvas and called it art, it was back from when people actually painted.

Your hand slipped down your body into your jacket pocket, fetching another piece of candy, although a voice speaking up from your right startled you nearly enough for you to drop it back into the bag.

“You’re not supposed to eat in museums, you know?” The woman had a foreign dialect, just like you. You guessed it was from somewhere in the middle of Europe, maybe Germany or any of the neighboring countries.

“It’s not a problem if you don’t tell on me, no one has to know.” She seems just as startled by your accent as you were by her speaking to you, her cheeks dusted with a light pink at the wink you sent her.

“What are you going to do if I tell them? Take me back to your ranch on your horse?” The mystery woman teases, obviously making fun of the accent and the cowboy hat sitting perched on your head. In response you laugh under your breath, shaking your head in amusement.

“I’m afraid that I left the ranch back in Texas, Miss. All I have here is a small one bedroom apartment.” She looks up at you through the side of her eye, her half smile distracting you more than you’d like to admit. Her brows knit together when she notices a security guard eying the two of you curiously and her elbow digs into your ribs when you once again reach for the skittles in your pocket.

“Nice hat, my friend would be jealous.” You nod in agreement, plucking the stetson off your head and turning it around in your hand. In a brief moment of stupidity, you place the cowboy hat on the pretty stranger’s head, it falling down the front of her face to cover her eyes. It’s frankly adorable, the way she brings her hand up to push it back to the crown of her head.

The reassuring smile on her face tells you that she approves of your action, a relief to your entire being. She takes her phone out of her back pocket, turning it on and snapping a picture of you both, the cowboy hat still perched on top of her head.

In response, you snap a picture of her alone, the woman posing like a cowboy would for you. She was going to be the wallpaper of your phone for a while, even though you didn’t even know her name.

“So, do you have a name or am I just going to have to call you mine?” The cheesy pickup line just slips out, not at all consciously, it was like instinct took over, a pretty girl was to be flirted with.

“I wouldn’t mind being called yours, but for now you can call me Lia.” The woman doesn’t seem uncomfortable by your advances, in fact she embraces them, teasing smile telling you that she found it amusing how worried you got over a simple pickup line.

“Lia, a beautiful name for an even more gorgeous girl.” She gains her pink tint back, the compliment likely the cause of her blush. It wasn’t like she never got complimented, it was just the attractive zing your accent put over the words that made them feel more sincere.

“And how about you? A name attached to that pretty face?” Now it was your turn to blush at the other woman’s words, her lips splitting into a full toothed smile.

“Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n.” You imitate Bond to introduce yourself, sticking your hand out for her to take, a firm handshake and the tip of an imaginary hat letting her know who exactly it is you are. 

“Good to know my future last name.” She winks at you and the blush that’s already covering your face deepens significantly. The insinuation that you were to marry the girl beside you too much for your poor little heart to take. 

She starts to walk away from you and towards another section of the room, looking back over her shoulder when she realizes that you weren’t right beside her, walking. Waving her hand in a “come here” motion, you quickly catch up with the older woman. 

“So, why skittles? Is there not any other sweet you’d rather have?” She asks as you match her slow rhythm of steps, your hands shoved in the pockets of your coat with your arms forming loops. Lia threads one of her arms through yours, leaning her head on your shoulder, standing still all of a sudden to look at a painting. It didn’t feel like you’d just met, like you’d just introduced yourselves to one another, it felt like you’d known each other for decades, easily slipping into being comfortable with each other.

You gaze at her as she looks at the painting, making sure to map out all her gorgeous features and commit them to memory. She was like a breath of fresh air in a world of polluted oxygen.

“First of all it’s called candy, not sweets, candy. Secondly, they’re amazing for when you want to stop smoking.” Her cheek smushes against your shoulder as she turns her head to look up at you, her eyebrows scrunched together adorably.

“You were a smoker?” You feel the strong urge to place a peck atop her lips, soft and warm against your own. But in the end you resist, you’d only just met the woman for god’s sake, you don’t want to make her uncomfortable. Her eyes hold so many emotions that you just can’t read.

“Yeah, only for about a year. My ex stressed me out so much that I felt it was the easiest way to deal with it. But when she broke up with me, I decided to get my life back together, moved here, got a job at a bar and that’s it. That’s why I’m here.” Lia listens intensively at the story you’re telling her, the way she looks at you suggests that she’s hanging off your every last syllable.

“So no more smoking at all for you?” You puff your chest up, proudly displaying the grin on your face and your now discolored tongue. Lia looks on in amusement at your actions, a grin that could light up an opera house on her face. 

“Nope, I’m never picking up a cigarette again.” The amusement turns into a sort of profound proud feeling, a feeling that she definitely shouldn’t be feeling for what is practically a stranger. A stranger that in the matter of a mere hour had worked their way into her heart and made themselves home.

“Good, I’m really happy for you.” The softened look on Lia’s face makes you blush, it was the way most people looked at their loved ones. You couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like to be one of her loved ones, how it would feel to see her first thing in the morning, to gaze into her tentative eyes and try to read her like a book just because you know exactly how it is she acts, how she feels at that exact moment, what she thinks.

At your faraway look Lia nudges you in the ribs, giggling at the embarrassed expression that occupies your face. Her giggle could only be described as a ray of sunlight, lighting the glum room up in seconds, giving it a golden glow.

The older woman doesn’t miss the fondness in your gaze as you watch her laugh, your own lips splitting into a smile and soon after a loud belly laugh bubbles up in your chest, welling out of your mouth like water out a dam. 

Only moments later the both of you are doubled over in laughter, tears slipping down your cheeks and arms crossed over your stomachs. Some scattered guests give you two dirty looks, as if you were peasants in a house full of royals, but they are counter effective because it only makes you and Lia laugh harder.

The security guard from earlier approaches you both as you drop down to the floor with a loud thump, Lia bursting out into an entire new fit of laughter as you try to catch your breath.

“Y/n, I’ve already let you get away with a lot today but this is your last strike. Up you get, I’ll escort you and your lady companion to the exit.” He speaks through his thick mustache, his round beer gut bobbing up and down with every word like he needed every fat covered muscle of his stomach to get the words out.

Small giggles escape you both as Lia and you are led out of the building by a firm grip around both of your arms. You both watch in amusement as the fat man gets winded walking back up the stairs he just led you down, bending over for a brief second at the top before disappearing back behind the door.

“So, I take it you know the security guard then?” She sounds a little out of breath as she speaks to you, flyaways sticking out of her bun, your hand itches to reach up and smooth them out, undo her bun and run your fingers through her hair. But you don’t. 

“Yeah, he’s my regular. Comes in every day and buys a pint after work, a good friend of mine he is. He lets me get away with eatin’ in there every time I come.” You stand right in front of the brunette, hands again in your pockets as you smile at her tentatively. Her hand comes up to rub at your arm, and you feel as though you were going to pass out at any moment, the electric feeling of her ring covered fingers touching your arm overwhelming in a good way.

“Ah, a museum nepo baby then.” You can tell that she’s joking by the way her eyebrows raise all the way up to her hairline, and you imitate her by doing the same thing. Another fit of giggles ensues, Lia looking directly into your eyes, holding eye contact for a prolonged amount of time.

It makes you nervous, her somewhat challenging gaze locking on your face for a moment longer than necessary. When she grasps your hands in hers you finally look back at her, meeting her tender gaze with your own.

“I really enjoyed today, I was hoping we could do it again sometime.” The older woman looks at you sheepishly, nearly nervously. You’re mesmerized by her gorgeous simplicity, simple smile grazing her lips as you nod, a recognisable warmth behind the hug she gives you, the quick kiss she places on your cheek haphazardly before walking away, not looking back to see your rose tinted cheeks.

It’s only when Lia has disappeared far behind the horizon that you realize that you have no way to contact her AND that she essentially got away with your favorite cowboy hat. You aren’t as distraught about your hat as you are about not getting her number, it was a dumbass move from you.

You drag your feet all the way back to your apartment, not knowing that only moments after you left the museum, the girl of your dreams ran back all the way to get your number. And like you, she dragged her feet all the way back to her apartment, sulking and questioning her own intelligence.

Arriving at the bar that evening was strange, you felt almost empty without the girl you’d met earlier that day, no light brown cowboy hat perched atop your head nor a beaming smile. It was weird to everyone around you, you always had that damned hat on, but now it was a completely different one, black with a few white accents.

“What happened to you? It looks like someone ran over your dog.” Your co-worker and best friend Marla asks, placing her hand on your shoulder softly as if you were to break if she did it any harder. Shaking your head, your other friend and co-bartender Jason comes up to rub your back softly, the comfort from both of your best friends loosening you up significantly and soon after you spill everything that had happened up to that point.

They were both smirking at you when you finished up the story, knowing that despite only just meeting the woman in the museum you were already in love. 

“So do you have a picture of this goddess who’s making you drop to your knees?” Marla asks you, looking knowingly at your other best friend, who in return wiggles his eyebrows at her. You knew something would happen between them soon, and you’d rather be in hell than to watch it.

“Yeah, just give me a quick sec.” Pulling out your phone, you quickly unlock it and enter the photo app, not needing to scroll as the most recent photo was of her, Lia.

“Girl, are you fucking with me?” You look at the dark skinned girl in confusion, her eyes widening as she realizes that you had no fucking clue who it was you had met. She looks to her ‘boyfriend’ quickly in shock, who looks back at her equally appalled.

“Are you telling me you don’t recognise her?” The moment you shake your head is when the green eyed boy facepalms, not believing your stupidity. “Not at all? You haven’t seen her before.” When you once again shake your head the man sighs in disappointment, all faith in your intelligence practically gone.

“Girl. That is Lia Wälti, you know one of the best midfielders in the country? Arsenal Women’s player.” Now it’s your turn to look shocked, not at all knowing that she was a footballer. All the times you’d gone over to Marla’s house to watch footy, she’d probably been injured.

“Are you fucking kidding me? I didn’t even recognise her.” You lean against the door, sliding your body down until you’re sitting flush on the floor, head in your hands. Jason places his hand on your shoulder, smiling softly at you as he tries to reassure your overwhelmed mind.

“Hey, man, it was probably a good thing that you didn’t recognise her. She knows that you’re not some crazed fan trying to kill her, eh?” Marla’s hand plucks your cowboy hat from your head and runs her fingers through your hair, your shared shift started in mere minutes and yet they were there, comforting you.

“I’m okay, just a bit shell shocked.” They both laugh, pulling you up by your hands and bringing you into a group hug, patting your back before Marla gives you your hat back, smacking both you and Jason’s asses before disappearing out to her office.

“You know, we have an extra ticket to the Arsenal game on Sunday, so I mean if you want to see her again then you’re welcome to join.” You smile at the man’s kindness, telling him that you’ll definitely take him up on his offer. You didn’t have a shift at the bar either way that day so spending it looking for your … well you didn’t really know what it was she is to you. All you know is that you wanted to see her again.

Two days later you find yourself sitting as close to the pitch as you possibly can, waiting for the North London derby to start. 

Lia is in the starting lineup, looking determined as she waits for the whistle signaling the start of the game to sound. The shrill noise cuts through the air and the game starts.

It’s physical right from the start, loads of pushing and shoving coming from both sides, red and white. There are a few times where you nearly jump to your feet as Lia gets pushed but the fact that your friends sat there right beside you made you choose not to.

At half time the score is the same as the beginning, nil-nil. Despite not knowing much about football you join in on analyzing the first half of the game, mentioning all the times Lia went down. Marla makes some ‘innocent’ comments about how you’d much rather have her ‘go down’ somewhere else. The blush that overtakes your face is enough for you to blend in with your jersey, the red of the Arsenal shirt the same shade as your face.

When the second half starts, you’re basically on your feet all the way through, cheering loudly when Alessia scores, meaning that the gunners were up one-nil.

It’s particularly hilarious when Lia finally notices you, a pause in the game meaning that she had the time to look around at the fully packed Emirates Stadium. When those eyes you love to gaze into meet yours for the first time since Friday, her face split open in a smile, a smile reaching all the way up to her eyes.

It looks like she has to physically restrain herself so that she doesn’t run over to you, her body shaking slightly as she calmly inches her way towards you, the cheers of the fans around you becoming louder as the player comes closer. Lia tunes them all out though as she looks at you, the only thing cutting through her trance being the whistle signaling the freekick being awarded. 

Lia looks back towards you as she walks in the direction of the group of players and you wink at her, even though she’s far away it seems like she saw it, the deep tint of red dusting her face definitely more than exertion from the game. 

When the three loud whistles sound throughout the arena, it explodes in cheers as Arsenal manage to keep their one-nil lead and in doing so make London red again. But you don’t even acknowledge the win when there’s a speeding Lia Wälti heading straight in your direction.

She only starts to slow down as she reaches the barrier which separates the fans from the pitch and players, with you standing up behind it to watch her come closer and closer with every quick step she takes.

Lia throws her arms around your torso when she comes close enough, the way that she had been longing for your touch had been driving her crazy in the days since you first met. She also knew that it wasn’t smart to do it all out in the open, fans and professionals alike were probably going to know everything about you within a few days. You didn’t seem to mind though, content with having her in your arms again.

Pulling away from her, you quickly take her face in your hands, looking her over to see if her face was scratched up from all the times she’d met the ground in the game. 

“Shit, darling, I think you spent more time on the ground in this game than on your feet. You ought to be more careful.” Your southern drawl is especially thick when you speak to her, the worry you’d experienced the entire game bubbling to the surface.

“I’m perfectly fine, I think you’re forgetting that I do this for a living.” She smiles at you reassuringly and you calm down fully, her hand placed on your arm a sure factor of it. Lia’s head turns to your side, looking directly at your friends who both send her starstruck looks. 

“Hi, I’m Lia.” The footballer smiles in their direction and they both remain in their seats, completely unmoving. She looks back to you concerned and in response you just laugh, they were apparently not expecting her to actually greet them. “Are they okay?” 

“I think they’re just a bit starstruck.” Gesturing towards their gaping mouths, Marla quickly slaps your hand away from her face, biting at the air to show you that she wasn’t afraid to bite.

“Oh okay, well do you think they want anything signed? I can ask the team, or maybe if you want we can go meet them?” Lia sounds unsure of herself, apparently doubting that her first impression on your friends was good.

“I think that they’d love that sweetheart. But judging from all the looks we’re getting from that same team, I do think they want you back.” You glance towards the women gathered in a clung in the middle of the pitch, all of them staring at you and Lia interacting. She sighs at their slightly invasive culture, but alas there wasn’t anything that she could do about it. When you smile and wave at them, you’re thoroughly amused when every single one of them repeats your actions back to you, some in confusion and some in amusement.

“A guard is going to tell you to follow him, just do as he says and we’ll meet again soon.” By that point the stadium was almost empty, everyone wanting to go home and brag about their team’s win over the archrival. So as Lia walks away from you, you’re totally free to stare at her ass, only stopping when Marla slaps your arm harshly.

“Did that just happen?” Jason asks shakily, running his hand down his face in embarrassment.

“You’re damn right it did.” You laugh at their stupid expressions, their embarrassment clear on their faces. “Well look on the bright side, y’all are going to meet the team.” With that their embarrassment turned into excitement, meeting their favourite athletes quickly turning their mood around.

“Y/n Y/l/n? Come with me and take your friends with you.” Walking around the labyrinth of slinging hallways and narrow paths, you appear in front of the locker room in no time, the loud music escaping the door a clear indicator of the Gunners good match.

“Now just wait out here until they come out, they’ll probably be out in a few.” The guard tells you unbothered, not caring at all that he’s leaving people he doesn’t know outside of the locker room.

“Yes sir.” You speak up clearly, mock saluting him as he disappears down the hallway with a sigh.

“I can’t believe that you’re 28, you act like a 12 year old.” Marla tells you jokingly, leading to you pushing her away from you. In the span of a few seconds both you and Marla find yourselves on the floor, engaging in a wrestling match. It only gets broken up when the sound of the door opening echoes through the hallway, both you and your best friend quickly getting on your feet.

“Nah what’s going on here?” A very amused Irish accented voice escapes the player exiting the locker room, one Katie McCabe staring at you and Marla.

“It was her fault.” You point at Marla so as to gesture that it was her who started it, the woman vehemently denying it.

“So I’m guessing you’re Lia’s cowboy then?” Katie completely ignores the blame game currently going on in front of her as she talks to you. Blushing at being called Lia’s, you quickly start to stutter out an answer.

“I- uhm yeah, I think so?” Laughter coming from behind the Irish woman makes you glance in the direction of the sound. Seeing Leah Williamson of all people is not what you expect, a bit starstruck yourself.

“Of course it’s the cowboy you buffoon, who else would wear a cowboy hat in London? You have to tell me where you bought the one Lia brought home, I need a new one. Mylie-moo chewed mine to filth a couple days ago.” Leah throws her arm around your shoulder as if you’d known each other for years, the woman clearly having heard a thing or two about you.

“Oh well I’ll be sure to bring you one next time I go back to Texas, my buddy Carl, he’s 72 and he makes the most gorgeous hats you can imagine. Last time I visited him I made him an instagram page, I’ll send you the link if you want?” You speak enthusiastically with the England captain, her arm still resting around your shoulders casually. Both Marla and Jason are in a conversation with Katie and Lotte, who just got out of the locker room.

“Important question, so answer me truthfully now, do you like country music?” She looks at you skeptically, trying to deduce if you’re being truthful or not. The question itself makes you roll your eyes playfully, but alas it didn’t surprise you. It was widely known that Leah was quite the country fan.

“Ma’am I grew up in Texas, yeah I’m a country fan. I’d be disowned if I wasn’t.” Leah looks at you like you’re her hero, it was clear to you that she accepted you. The hinges of the door squeak as a few other players exit, namely Lia.

“Lia please let me steal her, she’s perfect.” Leah says jokingly, holding onto your arm softly like she was a little kid. Lia looks at her weirdly, but quickly catches on to the joke, walking over to the two of you.

“I know, that’s why I want to keep her.” Lia wraps her arms around your waist tightly, her newly washed hair curling up into adorable curls, head placed on your shoulder. 

“Sharing is caring.” Leah is on the verge of laughter as she talks, the statement a shocking one for sure. It was hilarious though so you also had to keep from laughing.

“I mean I wouldn’t mind-” Lia shoots you a mean glare at your half serious words, and even though it was like being glared at by an adorable kitten, Lia already had you wrapped around her finger. “Actually I’m taken so I don’t think that would work.” 

All it takes for you all to break character is a shouted ‘WHIPPED’ coming from one of the players watching the interaction like it was a soap opera, the three of you laughing like it was the last thing you’d do.

“Alright, anyone want a drink? Not to brag but I can make a mean cocktail.” The women all cheer as you ask them, everyone rushing out to get into their cars and get to the bar. Just as you’re about to follow them, someone takes hold of your collar, making it so that you can’t go. 

Lia looks back when you don’t follow her but you just wave her off, telling her to go on without you. Turning back, you’re met with all the ‘scariest’ Arsenal players, looking like they’re about to beat you up.

“Listen carefully now, because this will only be said once, if you hurt a hair on her head, do anything to hurt her emotionally, if you do anything wrong that makes her sad, we will not hesitate to take your knees.” It’s Katie that speaks, all the others just nodding intimidatingly, glaring at you. 

“I’m going to try my best to make her happy, I know that she deserves the world.” They let up the facade of intimidation at your words, patting your back and pushing you in the direction of the car park. The conversation as you all are walking out of the building is pleasant, when you arrive at the parking lot there are just a couple of cars left.

Both of your best friends had left you to carpool with one of the remaining players, Lia called dibs though the second she looked at you, so it was with her you went.

“They weren’t too scary with you right? I know how they can be.” Lia says over the soft music being played from the radio, some Tyler, the Creator song. You look at her face, she was in deep thought and absolutely adorable. 

“Nah, it’s like being threatened by a pair of teddy bears. Let’s just say that I’ve had worse shovel talks.” She giggles as you start to tell her about all the weird shovel talks you’d gotten back in Texas, everything from being threatened with Chinese water torture to being hung upside down from a tree for simply speaking to a girl that wasn’t her.

When the bar comes into sight you see that multiple people have parked their cars right in front of it, telling Lia to just park on the curb.

“Y’all are such dickheads.” You laugh, slapping both Marla and Jason’s heads hard, they left you stranded. 

“Well you’ve got a girlfriend now who can drive your broke ass.” Marla shoots back, rubbing her head in pain. You roll your eyes at her dramatic actions, the slap wasn’t that hard.

“One-nil to me then, at least I have someone.” The sibling like banter was normal between you two by now, she was your best friend after all.

“C’mon cowboy, let’s sit down for a little.” Lia’s hand rests on your stomach as you both sit down on the booth, the place to sit being suspiciously small, to the point in which Lia had to throw her legs over your lap to get enough space.

It was nice to sit and talk with the team, they were regular people just like anyone else and it made you glad to see them just relax after a match. The atmosphere was calm, so calm in fact that Lia managed to fall asleep on your shoulder, quiet snores escaping her mouth.

Only moments later you fall asleep too, after having fought sleep for as long as possible. Your head rests on top of Lia’s and the girls think it’s absolutely adorable, some of them taking pictures of you both to send to their group chat.

“I knew being friends with her would pay off.” Jason jokes, thinking naïvely that you were fully asleep, getting a few laughs from the girls in the room. They get startled though as you utter a quick;

“Hey!” In protest, everyone soon laughed at your dramatic reaction to his joke.

Who knew that going to the museum would result in you getting a date?

[sunarots]

so high school ━━━ atsumu miya

23. first day ♡

“Come on.”

You take in a deep breath, looking up at Atsumu from your spot in his passenger seat. He leans against the open door of the car, a hand outstretched towards you. Your eyes drift to the building behind him, the blinds drawn and blocking the view inside of the restaurant.

Now, not only have you got to pretend to be Atsumu’s boyfriend to the public, you have to pretend in front of his brother. And your boss. Despite your anxiety, you accept Atsumu’s hand and let him lead the way into the restaurant. He drapes an arm around your neck, pulling you in closer to him whilst using his other hand to open the door.

The lights are up full to compensate for the lack of sunlight, so you can see every detail. The walls are painted a dark grey, decorated with pictures taken from the twins’ childhoods, the restaurant opening. You approach the closest collage of photos, scanning over each one.

There’s one of them as young kids in a volleyball club, wide smiles on their faces. The two of them in high school, black uniforms in a large gymnasium, the entire team surrounding them. Another at their graduation with their mother between them. One of them at the grand opening, Osamu in the middle with his friends surrounding him.

You point to one of the faces in the picture. “Who’s this? I recognise him.” You look back, Atsumu leaning in closer to see who you were pointing at.

“Oh, that’s Sunarin. He was in the Japan team the year I was there.” Atsumu smiles, directing your attention to a larger framed photo. “Here’s us at the Olympics. Me, Sunarin, and ‘Samu.”

You gesture to the first picture that caught your eye, smiling softly. “I like this one. You were cute kids. What happened?”

Atsumu laughs, gently swatting your arm. “Oi, don’t make me regret getting ya this job.”

“Well, too late for ya to take it back.”

The two of you turn to face Osamu, walking out from the kitchen. He sits his towel over his shoulder and approaches you, reaching out a hand to shake. “How are ya both?” He pats Atsumu’s arm before crossing his over his chest.

“We’re good. Y/n’s glad to get out the house, aren’t ya?” Atsumu sets his hand on your shoulder with a soft smile.

“Yeah, I’m going fully insane. I even started watching Atsumu play against Argentina. And I was there for that game. I’ve been so bored.”

“When you’ve stooped that low, that’s how you know time’s come.”

Atsumu slaps his brother’s arm, shaking his head. “Ya better not turn her against me, ‘Samu, I swear.”

Osamu shrugs his shoulders, laughing softly and saying, “Hey, if she turns against ya, that’s not on me.” He claps his hands together and turns around to direct you to the far wall. “This is where we’ll display your art. I will take anythin’, I’m desperate. Sunarin and Kita have been up my ass about it ever since the repairs.”

You furrow your eyebrows, looking between the brothers. “Repairs?”

“The pipes burst and the entire wall got wrecked, almost collapsed. Took a while to fix it back up, but here we are. New wallpaper, too. Do ya think you could do something with it?”

You nod your head, taking your phone out of your pocket and taking a few quick pictures. It’s the same shade of grey as the rest of the walls, the only difference being the gold embellishment of fish covering it. “Yeah, I can see why they’ve been bugging you. It’s very bare. I can definitely do something. Um, do you have any ideas? I can do a lot, so if you have any references I could put something together. Maybe a black canvas with gold on it, or the other way around?”

Osamu nods, waving for you to follow him towards the counter. He pauses when Atsumu doesn’t follow. “Ya good?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna head to work. Need to get a coffee first. I’ll be back to pick you up after practice, darlin’. Stay in touch, yeah?” He awkwardly pats you on the back before doing the same to his brother, tucking his hands in his pockets and heading towards the door.

“Bye, Atsumu!”

He gives you a smile and a wave in response when he leaves the restaurant. You turn your full attention to Osamu, following him behind the bar and towards his office. The walls are painted a navy blue, coat hooks and lockers lining the way to the staff room.

Inside his office, the walls are still the floral print from the last owners, certificates and awards hung on the walls. More personal photos, one of him and Sunarin with their arms around one another on his desk.

You take a seat in the cushioned chair, tucking your hair behind your ears and watching him rummage through the papers on his desk.

“So, I started looking at work that you’ve posted to get an idea and I had some help putting this together, but these are some images I’ve found that I think would suit your style.” He hands over a stack of ten loose sheets of paper, each with one or two pictures on them.

You flick through them, folding corners on the ones you thought you could use. Leaning back in your seat, you cross one leg over the other and smile at him. “I can definitely work with these, thank you. I also saw that you had a lot of pictures of you and friends and people close to you hung on the walls. I do portraits and, um… I can do a portrait of you and one or two other people, if that’s something you’d be interested in?”

Osamu smiles, eyes flickering to the picture frames on his desk. "Yeah, that would be nice. I can send you a picture? We don’t have much spare time to pose.”

“Of course. Could you send a few? Fully confidential, and I’ll delete them once I’ve finished the painting. I, um… I’ll also need a deposit from you, just in case you pull out.” Your eyes widen when the words leave your mouth, regretting your choice of phrasing. “Not that I don’t trust you or anything! I do, I just take a deposit from everyone to secure and just so I don’t, um… Waste my time.”

Osamu waits for you to finish, nodding along to everything you say. “That’s no problem. I expected that, anyway. If you give me a quote on the deposit whenever you can, and I’ll transfer that straight over to you so you can make a start. I’d also like to fund whatever materials it is you use. Paints, canvases, everything that you don’t already have. If you buy anything for this, give me a receipt and I’ll refund you for your purchases.”

“Oh, Osamu, I can’t let you do that, it’s too much.” You fix the papers into a neat pile. “The deposit is enough.”

He shakes his head, eyes flickering past you to something in the hallway. He nods his head before turning his full attention back onto you. “It’s not, I’ll be paying you for this. Now, are you ready to start your training?”

masterlist. previous | next

summary. after your best friend reveals he’s moving out of your shared flat, you’re presented with a tough choice: let one of the creeps who are begging you to let them move in with you, or find a cheaper flat in another area of town. a do-over couldn’t have come at a better time for you, but your only option for a place to stay is with someone your best friend knew from high school, and his two teammates.

taglist (open!). @reignsaway @yuminako @thiisisntlovely @diorzs @aboutkiyoomi @spicana @bakingcuriosity @kr1nqu @savemebrazilhinata @dazqa @sereniteav @beckxisxinxlovexwithxjin @sleezzsister @hermaeusmorax @giocriedpower @sophosphorescent @gigiiiiislife @zazathezaer @rrosiitas @iaminyourfloors @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @sillygooseymood @ellouisa17 @wakashudou @punkhazardlaw @arminswife12 @libbymeows @thomatri @nanamis-right-tiddie

[kaolovess]

NAMJOON DATING HEADCANNONS

AUTHORS NOTE: Thank you so much for the support I've gotten over the last few days!! today I got 2 requests??? I quickly whipped this up, (partly because it's been sitting in my docs for a day now ) so I could post it for you guys! if the link doesn't work in this post I'm going to be so embarrassed... Love you! <3

WORD COUNT: 457

He tries to be a romantic. But his clumsiness gets in the way.

He tries to make you dinner ( he burnt the water :( ) but you do everything.

So whipped for you, he would do anything you tell him to do.

100% brings you to art museums

Only has eyes for you 🤭

Trust me he fell HARD for you. 

He tried to get his driver's license when you guys first got together but had to stop because of his busy schedule.

Randomly buys you paintings, that he thinks you may like.

Honestly, I think he has quite a bit of dating experience.

If you ever struggle to sleep, he will read to you :(( ( even though he doesn’t sleep till 1 in the morning )

I feel like he somehow remembers every single thing you like, Like. buying something for your birthday when you mentioned it once.

He’s a very understanding and attentive person, so he can tell how you are feeling based on your expression.

Like in my jealousy headcanons, ( link here ) he doesn’t really get jealous, he just has no reason to.

Dates would probably be simple, instead of just cafes, like I said for Jimin, I feel like Namjoon is more of a stay-at-home guy, the only place you guys have dates ( not including home ) is art museums.

He wouldn't mind taking you to restaurants if you wanted though :)

As I said, Namjoon is clumsy. Army probably found out because he happened to have a “girlfriend” and your name slipped out of his mouth during a live. ( he quickly ended it 😭 )

Gives you spoilers on upcoming comebacks

I'm pretty unsure about nicknames for him, maybe “Love” or “Darling”?

He likes to bring you to the gym for company.

Pretty protective, just enough to know you're safe around him.

Definitely has his phone wallpaper as you ( it’s one of the thousands of pictures he has of you) 

He probably has an album on his phone that is just his favorite photos of you.

Bought a spinning chair just to put in his studio for you. 

Calls you when he gets bored at practice. (90% of the time he’s asking you to get food for him and the boys)

Admires you with his gorgeous dimple smile. :(

Wants kids so badly

Writes songs about you.

Randomly stops in the middle of your guy's house to admire the expensive paintings he bought.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t vent to you till he reaches his breaking point :(

But he DEFINITELY gives the best comfort, his comfort makes others seem like they are barely trying.

Would be excited to meet your parents ( he bought them gifts and everything :( )

Tries to spend as much time with you as possible because of his busy schedule.

[anjaelle]

The Consequence of Pride

Pairing: Tangerine x Black!Reader

Warnings: Guns, Gore, Glass injury, Attempted murder

Word Count: 1.3K (a shorty)

A/N: Something I threw together on my phone in the middle of the night because I couldn't sleep. Tried to check for errors and such.

(gif source)

The humor of the situation wasn't lost on him.

Two men lay in a puddle of their own blood just a few feet away, with their brains painting the vibrant blue wallpaper behind them. When you told him that you shot the assailants and then tripped and fell into the glass shards of the broken coffee table, he laughed. He couldn't help it. It just slipped out. He apologized until you let out a tiny affronted gasp which made him guffaw even harder.

"I hate you." "Uh huh."

"I'm going to shave your mustache off in your sleep."

"Bit dramatic, innit?"

You let out a low grunt as he pulled a few smaller shards of glass out of your hand with a tweezer and tossed them aside. "That noise sounds familiar."

"Shut up, Tangerine."

You watched him furrow his brows as he sprayed the antiseptic on your hand and you whined at the sting. He was never surprised at how easily you were able to hold your own. But you also had a surprisingly low pain tolerance and an even lower tolerance for bullshit.

"I know, sweetness, I'm almost done."

As usual, he could see right through you. Despite the fact that you stood in the remains of your once beloved housewarming gift, all he could focus on was the way your lower lip jutted out pitifully and the way you clenched your good fist in anger. He wrapped your leg up in a gauze to cover up the bleeding cuts after pulling glass out of your thigh.

You were dressed in a red satin pajama set that Tangerine bought you from Dubai that you were excited to finally show him after not seeing him for over a month. Luckily, the blood stains weren't obvious, but the shorts didn't protect you from the glass. And your first night with him was definitely ruined.

"I still can't believe you laughed at me." You mumbled as he kissed the palm of your hand through the bandage. You couldn't let that go. You were injured and in distress, and your boyfriend had the audacity to let out a little giggle...a little "tee-hee" over your clumsiness.

"C'mon, it's a little funny. It's kinda funny, baby. Admit it." He raised his brows at you.

"No."

He clicked his teeth and shook his head, "Gotta work on getting a better sense of humor."

You pretended to bristle at him when he kissed your forehead, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing you liked the attentiveness.

He ignored your antics, gently lifting your head up to inspect your face. He tilted your head to the left and then the right, looking for any surprise injuries. He’d taken the time to clean the dried blood from your face.

“It’s not mine,” you clarified, glancing at the bloodied wall, “It’s asshole number 2’s.”

You couldn’t really tell what was going on in his head. His eyes expressed a mix of anger and concern about the situation at large. They’d come here with the intention to hurt or take you. He knew that much.

The question was why and how they knew where you were. You hadn’t worked a job in ages. They clearly thought you’d be off your game, but they were quickly proven wrong. He glanced over at the bodies in the apartment foyer.

“How long did that take?”

Time seemed to slow down during the struggle. It could’ve been 2 minutes or 2 hours between the time they barged in and the time you were plucking glass shards from your elbow. You told him as much.

“So…what the hell happened?” He questioned casually. He took step back to look you over in full.

“They pretended to be delivery men. I know, don’t give me that face. I ordered dinner for us and they showed up. I took out asshole number one first. Asshole number two tried to fight me. Me! You know I’m not that great at fighting.” You fidgeted with your anxious hands as you spoke, remembering the adrenaline you felt as you and the assailant struggled to take each other out, “He lunged at me, but missed and crashed into the coffee table. I tried to get to the gun, but he got back up and grabbed me by my hair.”

Your gun was kicked under the couch in the scuffle, so you had to improvise. “We were fighting again. Next thing I knew, I had his gun and—bam.” You mimed a headshot with your hand.

As you spoke, Tangerine looked around the apartment as if following the story in his head. He hummed, “Taking out two men on your own in little Jim-Jams. You’re kinda scary sometimes.”

“Don’t try to flatter me after you laughed at me.”

He rolled his eyes.

“You know who did it?” Once he was sure that everything was calm and you were okay, he took off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to move the frame of the coffee table out of the way.

You watched him from your plush purple couch, perpetually pleased that you didn’t really have to lift a finger while he was around. Even as you crossed your legs to get comfortable, you ignored the sting of pain in your thigh where the glass dug into your skin, “I dunno. They didn’t have any IDs or easily identifiable tattoos on their arms. I wasn’t really interested in examining them.”

You grimaced at the thought of touching their cold, dead bodies.

“You seem pretty fuckin’ calm about all of this shit.” He said, kneeling down to sweep up the broken glass, “I need to report it, y’know. Someone’s gotta be looking for them.”

“It’s not the first attack. Probably won’t be the last. I’m a hot commodity, babe.”

He shot you a tired look and you grinned proudly at his annoyance with you.

“I called the cleanup crew to come.” You added in a mocking tone, throwing your voice and putting on his accent, “So, yes, I was responsible, bruv.”

“I don’t sound like that, you dick.”

“Mhm, you do.”

He swept up the last of the glass and raised his brows at you, then threw his voice to match yours, “Shut up Tangerine, stop laughing at me. I’m overly sensitive and hot with a princess complex.”

You matched his expression and he grinned at you.

“Whose fault is that? Hmm.” You asked, motioning at him. He let out a loud laugh, tossing his head back and leaving to dump the glass.

“Fair enough.”

You sat curled up next to him on the couch while the cleanup crew moved the bodies and tried their best to get the blood out of your wood and wallpaper. You already knew it was a lost cause. Despite the actual gore being washed off, there was still a tinge of pink visible on it. He’d finally showered and changed into joggers and a t-shirt, tying his hair up. His hand rested lazily on your upper thigh, gently rubbing circles into your skin. You’d showered too, forgoing the cutesy pajamas he bought you and choosing just a plain concert tee and shorts. The plushie he bought you from Seoul sat tucked between your knees, and you felt fully comfortable for the first time in hours.

“Sweetness…” he mumbled tiredly.

You stopped scrolling through your phone, “Hmm?”

“Be honest,” he gave your thigh a light squeeze and a small smack, “did you break the coffee table?”

“No…yes.”

You couldn’t see his face, but you heard the rumble of another giggle in his chest.

“How’d you do that?”

You let out a long sigh, knowing you were gonna regret this for the rest of your life. “I was doing a victory dance. And I tripped over the couch leg and fell. In my defense, it was already cracked from when the other guy fell into it.”

The giggle turned into a full blown laugh and you couldn’t even be mad about it. It was a stupid way to get injured. An embarrassing way to get injured, even. He leaned down and pressed a few kisses to your forehead.

“Thank God. I fuckin’ hated that table.”

[logarhythm-bees]

The Carousel Kingdom 🏰 CH1 Junkyard Gold

Masterlist

Next

---

21-violets: hey patton

kitty-pat: hi virgil!

21-violets: u want to come help me find stuff for my apartment later? On the corner of Foley and Mian?

21-violets: mian*

21-violets: main*

kitty-pat: uhh hold on let me check it out

kitty-pat: virgil this looks like a junkyard

21-violets: yea

kitty-pat: r u sure that’s the right place?

21-violets: yeah i saw some cool stuff drivin by earlier. But tbh i am kinda nervous which is why i asked u to come 

kitty-pat: aw virge!

kitty-pat: ok, I’ll come!

21-violets: thanks pat : )

“Woah.”

“Yeah,” Virgil says, whistling. “Glad you brought your truck, ‘cause this stuff isn’t fitting in my car.”

“Why do we even go shopping if people are just throwing out purr-fectly usable stuff anyways?” Patton says, picking up a little vase with a cat on it, and frowning when it comes into two pieces in his hands. “Well, maybe not perfectly.”

“If you want that, we can glue it back together.” Virgil replies, looking over a relatively unscathed dining chair. “And the answer is probably somewhere between ‘capitalism,’ and ‘I don’t know how often this happens, I saw a guy dump a bunch of stuff here earlier so I thought I’d come by.”

Patton nods. 

“Whoa, Patton, look at this.” Virgil says, beckoning him over to a weathered section of scrap, where, piled underneath some old car parts and lumber, is the little faded head of a children’s carousel horse.

“C’mon, help me get it out.”

Patton obliges, and together they manage to gradually remove the scrap, bits of metal and wood coming away, slowly revealing not just one carousel horse, but the whole carousel, an antique little thing clearly meant for little kids but still pretty big compared to the rest of the broken-down things surrounding it.

“I wonder who dumped this here, this is sick,” Virgil says, hovering around it and brushing off the accumulated dust. ‘“I mean, I don’t think we could get it back to my apartment, and even then I don’t know where I’d fit it, but this is rad. We gotta take pictures, at least.”

Patton nods enthusiastically, clearly in favor of Virgil taking an entire children’s carousel home so he can ride it whenever he wants, but he curbs his excitement in favor of practicality, knowing they can’t put a carousel inside a studio apartment. 

“My phone’s got a better camera,” Patton says, taking it out of his pocket and handing it to Virgil. “Are you ever going to update yours?”

Virgil grimaces as he sticks his own phone into his pocket, riddled with cracks and chips, but…

“It’s still functional,” he says. “And I dunno, maybe I can get the screen fixed soon. It’s not at the top of my list, y’know? Anyways, smile!”

“Wha- Oh!” Patton laughs as Virgil pulls him into a selfie, flashing bunny ears behind Patton’s head. “Send that one to yourself!” Patton shout as Virgil jumps into motion taking angled shots of the worn carousel.

“Look at this paint here, it’s worn a lot but the pattern is gorgeous.” Virgil says, snapping a photo of one of the horses. “It’s like, gothic wallpaper. That’s so cool.”

“Look at this part, Virge,” Patton says, stepping closer to the carousel to inspect the middle column. “There’s a whole landscape painted on here.”

Virgil’s jaw nearly drops, immediately scuttling closer to take a peek and a photo. “You’re right! It’s so detailed. Man, I wish I knew why it was dropped here. This all looks like it was done by hand.”

“Mhm,” Patton replies, a little distracted by the streetlights flickering on and the sky starting to show little pinpricks of light. “Buuut, I think we should get going soon. Those chairs aren’t going to chair-y themselves!”

Virgil groans good-naturedly, looking back and forth between Patton and the carousel. Patton sighs quietly.

“C’mon Virge, we can’t keep horsing around all night!”

“I know, I know, just a few more photos,” Virgil says, and Patton relents, giving him space and a couple more minutes. Virgil is as cautious as he as eager, touching the faded paint and metal furnishings with a carefulness that Patton has always admired about his friend.

“Okay, I think I’m- just about done,” Virgil says, stumbling back off the carousel, and curiously, over a little wooden crown. “Oh dang, this must have fallen off.”

“Mhm, mhm,” Patton says, looking up at the nearly-nighttime sky with nervousness. “Are we leaving now?”

“Yeah, just one more photo,” Virgil says, picking the crown up gingerly and inspecting, carefully, the heads of the little horses until he sees one with a ring of missing paint.

Virgil holds one thumb over the photograph button and places the crown on its head, adjusting it with one hand, and just before he can take the photo, there is a bright flash of light.

And very abruptly, one horse missing from the carousel, is a person standing dizzily in its stead.

— 

Patton and Virgil don’t dare say a word as the person stumbles, groaning with one hand to their head, until the person collapses, and they both rush forward at once to assist.

“Owwie.” The person says, in a loud voice that immediately breaks the peace, and makes both of them flinch “Must’ve…had a dizzy spell. It’ll wear off, I’m sure.”

“Are you good, dude?” Virgil exclaims before he can stop himself, and Patton looks at him in alarm. Virgil doesn’t blame him- if he could look at himself talking unquestioningly to a stranger, he’d be staring at the scene too.

“I’ll be fine,” this mysterious person says, sitting up to better reveal two white protrusions- antlers? They must be antlers- they had better not be bones, good gravy- sticking out of their head. Their eyes, scrunched closed, finally blink open, looking around for a moment before quickly locking on Virgil and Patton sitting beside them. “Wait, who are you? Where are we?”

“Uhm. I’m Patton?” Patton says, motioning to himself, and then to Virgil. “And that’s Virgil. You’re in, uh, Gainesville, Florida?”

The person snaps to their feet, tail- tail?- swishing agitatedly behind them as they look around. “Did you bring me here? To this- this dump you call Flor Ida?” their antlers begin to glow, complex inlays becoming a soft red. “Tell me the truth! How did I get here? How far are we from Innova?”

“We don’t know!” Virgil starts, nervous energy overtaking him. “We just found a carousel here, and then one of the horses, it turned into you- and I don’t even know where Innova is- hey-!”

Before he can protest, Virgil is being lifted by his collar and looking straight into the eyes of a very angry stranger- odd, white- edged eyes with similarly white pupils, seemingly gazing straight into Virgil’s soul in a way that Virgil really is not liking.

“You’re right,” they say, seemingly finding what they were looking for, as they release Virgil and begin to pace. “You’re not of my world. But that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook yet- !”

Before they can finish, however, they sway again, tail waving behind them for balance. “I- this conversation is not over!”

And then, the anger leaving in a huff, they faint.

[kaiser1ns]

What is your favorite holiday together? And how do you spend it?

hello foxx, thank you for the question!

i dont actually have a favorite holiday, and he couldn't care less as long im with him, but i'd like to say halloween (even if it is not celebrated in my country) so we can match costumes ! again im biased on lion king, just lion customs or pajamas fit and chika would even need a wig his hair does the trick ! ghostface but im the one with mask and chika just has red paint on his shirt imitating blood because let's kill this love ! or him as ariel and me as eric because he is my pretty princess ♡ the basic angel&devil because we just fit into that category! i will force him to be akura ou while i am nanami or tomoe, we will look so cute because kamisama kiss is one of my favorites and it will be his too ! no matter the costume we will look pretty hot, we gonna eat this up ! one way to spend the days is trick or treat bit is just having a party with my friends as they drink and its 3am i don't know how they keep up while me and chika are cuddling on the couch, for your information i don't like drinking alcohol aside beer so there has to a sober friend so im taking the role... but we got tired more like i was getting sleepy and decided for better to go home as we then go directly to sleep with the costumes on while he hugs me tight.

second option is just staying home with the costumes and taking photos while eating ton of candy because i have sweet tooth and he knows that very well, so he bought me different chocolates. i beg him to repost a story and surprisingly he did and even put it in his highlight (i totally didn't took his phone to do it) but the photos we took are so good, he looks so good didn't even have to pose ! having pretty boyfriend sucks because why does he looks so good, he doesn't even have to do anything...so now we are just taking a walk in the middle of the night, hand in hand, to feel the spirit of halloween but i can only feel the warmth of his hand.

overall we can either go out or stay home, it depends on what we want and feel on the moment and he will go with whatever i want because he doesn't care where are we, he cares if im with him ... to add i saw him changing his wallpaper to a photo of us dressed in the lion matching onesie.

"is that us? chika i didnt know you could do such things wait i need to send that pho—" i scream and giggle because this is the cutest thing he has done, the bare minimum. "i am your homescreen wallpaper too, baby where did you learned that?"

"you said i should change my wallpaper." did i said that? i don't know but i am so happy that someone cares enough for me to do that that i actually start crying "why are you... crying?"

"nothing, i just love you." then hug him tight, my head on his chest as he too wraps his arms around me. he may not say the same thing every time, but he shows it, and that's enough. "also we are binge watching lion king again, put on the lion onesies."

[welcome-to-puppet-hell]

Ring! Ring! (Part 2) - Wally Darling x Puppet!OC (Character Study)

Content Warning: Paranoia, Wally's ambiguous motivations, Disturbing Imagery, Mind Control (HEAVILY implied), Mind Reading, Creepiness in general

[Direct sequel to this]

I’m still screaming as my eyes snap open, my body jolting up in my bed. My eyes dart around desperately, seeing the brightly painted wallpaper that has slowly become familiar and then the ceiling that had been painted like a night sky full of glowing green stars. Sobs then began to wrack through me, almost drowning out the patter of the heart that still managed to beat beneath felt and fabric. My hands press to the place where it must be, a weak attempt to repress it.

When my breathing and sobs begin to calm, that’s when I become aware of the sound blaring through my bedroom. The sound of a phone ringing.

I blink, my tears blotting to drip down my cheeks. A phone call in the middle of the night? That never happens, not in the Neighborhood. 

Despite my anxiety, I slowly get up and walk to the stand. Then I pick it up, once again blanketing the room in silence.

“H-hello?” I say with a swallow. When there’s only quiet, I clear my throat. “Who is this?”

“Sorry, I…I’m just so happy you finally picked up the phone.”

My eyes blink, then I turn to give my phone an odd look. What…? Hang on, I know this voice.

“…Wally?” 

Why would he be calling me? He never speaks to me, hasn’t said one word since I walked into this neighborhood weeks ago. For the most part, whenever he’s shadowing Barnaby or any of the other neighbors, he only stares at me with his big eyes and even bigger smile. It’s pretty unnerving, honestly.

So…why?

I’ve gotta know.

“I—”

“Don’t speak,” he says, voice suddenly cold. “Go to the bed, right under the covers. Don’t move until I tell you.”

My frown deepens. I open my mouth to speak again, but then I hear a sound outside that chills me to the bone. The sound of feet dragging against the ground. Huge feet. Right near my window.

“Jamie, now.”

Wally’s voice—like ice and full of…anger?—springs me to action. Dropping the phone to the floor, I run back to my bed and throw the covers over me, turning to look at the wall. My hands tremble as they clench around my blanket, my breathing becoming shallow the closer the feet outside become. Despite the phone not being in my hand, I still hear his voice whispering in my ear. As if he’s curled around me. 

“Stay quiet. Don’t even breathe.”

Shaking, I place my hand over my mouth and nose, leaving just enough give so I wouldn’t suffocate.

Suddenly, a light blares through the window, much like a spotlight. I freeze when I sense the light behind me, see the hint of it on the wall. Then, as it starts to shift from side to side, I realize what it is. 

An eye. Just how giant is this thing?

…Actually, I never want to find out.

My eyes squeeze closed, all sound becoming this low yet piercing hum to my ears. It hurts, but I dare not move, do anything. Except maybe pray. Just let this end, soon. Please.

I don’t know how long I remain there. Part of me worries that I’ve fallen asleep, considering how closed my eyes are, how deafening the silence is.

Then, finally, spoken from the dropped phone:

“Okay…it’s all okay now, Jamie. You’re safe.”

The breath I’m holding finally leaves me in a rough exhale. My hand goes to my chest as I try to calm my breathing, but I still feel so dizzy. What was that? What’s going on? And Wally—

Wally. How did he know…?

My eyes dart to the phone still on the floor. He’s still there. I don’t exactly know how I know—he’s not breathing or making sounds like it—but he is. Would he answer if I asked?

Only one way to find out.

I get up slowly from the bed and walk back over to the phone. Once it’s to my ear, I drop down to crouch away from the window. Then I clear my throat, but my voice stutters out anyway.

“Wally, w-what was that…that thing?”

Pause.

“A nightmare,” he replies, his tone dim. “One I hope you never meet.”

…That’s not really an answer. 

Then again, I should know better. From the few conversations I’ve had with him, Wally has never been really direct when it comes to certain things about the neighborhood. He can say anything about the other Neighbors…but questions like, “What state are we in? Why does Home sometimes stare at me for so long? Who owned my house and my shop before me?” Usually, at those questions, Wally’s eyes cloud over as he stares at me with his frozen smile. And then, he shrugs.

Still. He’s telling me more than I expected. And maybe…I don’t want to know the answer to this question.

I’ll just…add this to my list of newly discovered mysteries in the Neighborhood. A list that has been growing and growing. Not sure what kind of sign that is.

But still, something is bothering me. And while I have him on the phone—well. Can’t hurt to ask, right?

“How did you know I’d be awake?”

“Oh! I didn’t.”

My eyebrows draw downward as my mouth twists. Yeah, that sounds like an absolute lie, straight from a goddamn liar. No matter how neutral he keeps his tone, I’m just not—

“It’s the truth!”

…the fuck? I pull the phone away and stare at it, my heart thudding like a drum inside my chest.

“To be fair, Neighbor, I’ve been trying to call you for a long time. I didn’t think you’d ever pick up the phone.”

My throat goes dry. Ever since moving here, I’ve been having these—weird dreams. Dreams of not only you, but also dreams of this ringing. Ringing from a phone, from within the depths of my mind. Like a memory I kept at the back of my mind, one I can’t seem to remember. Images from those dreams keep flashing through my mind’s eye, particularly of a phone surrounded by dark. A plastic toy phone with dials, much like the one in my house. A phone that always seems to ring.

“What the hell does that mean?” 

“I couldn’t sleep,” he says, still sounding too innocent. “And you happened to be the first neighbor I called!”

I lean back against the wall near my window. “Did you know it’d be there? When I woke up?”

“No,” he says, his voice hinting at a tremble. “It doesn’t always show up. But I know it doesn’t like when we’re awake.”

“…W-what does it do when we’re awake?”

“You don’t want to know.”

Suddenly, I feel so cold all over. I wrap the blanket around my shoulders and squeeze it, trying to get the warmth of the wool to bleed into me. God, this neighborhood just keeps getting weirder and weirder. My only mistake was thinking all the weirdness was coming from the neighbors alone, and that the weirdness couldn’t really hurt me.

It all makes me so tired. How am I supposed to do this…? I just wanna go home. I wanna go back to you, to the life we had. Are you even looking for me? Is anyone…?

I don’t realize that I’ve started crying until Wally speaks again. 

“…Jamie?” His tone is shaky. Scared? But why? “Are you okay?”

“No. I’m so tired, Wally. I can’t do this anymore, I can’t be here,” I croak out, leaning forward with my hand on my forehead. “I just wanna go home. Please, let me go home!”

“But Jamie…you are at Home.”

My hands go to my nose, pinching the bridge with my pointer and thumb. I can’t do it anymore. I’ve never been good with mind games. And I hate being toyed with. And I get the feeling that Wally, he doesn’t want to hurt me. Not really.

“You know what I mean. I know you do. Please, Wally, don’t lie to me…”

“…”

I wait for his response, my eyes sliding closed. Doing this is risky, I know. I still don’t even know what to make of Wally. Is he a friend? An enemy? Part of me wants to believe he doesn’t want to hurt me, based on how he’s behaved since I got here. But I know for certain now, that he isn’t as oblivious as the other neighbors, no matter how monotone or innocent he sounds.

Whatever is going on here, he isn’t just on the level or in the know. He’s not even caught in the middle. He’s neck deep in it.

“…That doesn’t mean I can give you what you want,” he interjects, not unkindly. “It doesn’t mean that I’m in charge.”

I swallow. Who is, then? Or, perhaps, what?

Wally doesn’t answer that question, but he does continue to speak.

“I think that’s enough excitement for you tonight, dear Neighbor. It’s time for you to sleep.”

Something about his voice freezes me in place, making my mind feel all fuzzy. Suddenly, the exhaustion I feel isn’t just emotional. It’s a weight on my eyes, on my shoulders—on my whole body. I’m filled with an intense desire to go to bed, one that I acknowledge in a floaty sort of way.

“Yeah, you’re…you’re right,” I say, my voice sounding so foreign to my ears. So empty, vacant. Is that really what I sound like? I feel my body start to sway in place, almost weightless. “I’m so tired…”

“Get into the bed, Neighbor. Things will be better in the morning.”

(Will it?)

“Promise?” comes out of my mouth instead, my voice almost childish.

“I promise,” Wally says, his voice soft but emphatic.

…Yeah, that feels enough for me. I’m too exhausted to fight anyway. 

So, finally giving in, my body sways to one side and I end up falling back into my bed. A giddiness bubbles from me the second I land. How did I get here so fast? It was at least a few feet away, no? 

Oh, well. It doesn’t matter. The pillow below my head is so soft and the bed is so warm. What even happened? Did I actually see something? Why was I so worried? Why did I even have that nightmare? I’m safe here. 

(Am I?)

Yes. Yes, I am.

My eyes flutter a bit before finally shutting. And as my breathing slows, darkness takes over once more—but this time, as a comfort.

Not long after, my blanket lands back on my body, engulfing me in warmth. Then someone whispers in my ear.

“Sleep well, neighbor.”

==

Wally lingers at the window, his eyes glued to your house. Staring straight into the window of your bedroom. His hand is lifted in the air, lingering with all his fingers spread and bent, like a puppeteer handling strings. He stares and he waits, his expression like stone and his eyes never blinking.

Finally, with a hum of satisfaction, he curls his fingers back into his palm and lowers his hand to his side. Then he folds both hands behind his back.

“Good,” he says. “That was a close one, no?”

Frantic creaks of doors and cabinets echo through the walls of Home. Wally turns slightly from the window to look behind him, wearing a blithe smile.

“Don’t worry, Home, I know what I’m doing. When they wake up tomorrow, they won’t even remember what their nightmare was about. Or our conversation.”

More creaks. Some clashing of dishes from the kitchen. Wally isn’t offended though, instead he only nods in understanding.

“If you must tell him, just report that I’m only doing what I’m told. Keeping an eye on the neighbor, making sure they follow the rules and that they’re following the script given to them. That’s all.”

Another creak, this time in warning.

Wally turns entirely and stares up at Home, his expression stoic. And then, with a squeeze of his eyes being closed—only for a moment—he starts to laugh, the sound hollow as it reverberates through the house.

“Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha…”

When his eyes open, Wally’s gaze remains sharp as he regards Home’s ceiling. His hands unfold behind him and rest against the window sill as he leans back, keeping his body right in front of the view towards your house—towards you. 

“Home, please. I’ve been doing this for long enough. You don’t have to remind me,” he says, his voice cold in its shrewdness. “I know where my loyalties lie.”

[council-of-beetroot]

Game Night Prompt

Also on AO3. Here

Characters: HWS Poland, HWS Lithuania, HWS Estonia, HWS Latvia

Word Count: 1,014

Content Warnings: Mild swearing

Summary: An unexpected Blizzard postpones Lithuania, Estonia, and Poland's return home from Riga. To pass the time, they decide to play boardgames at Latvia's place.

After spending a few days on holiday in Riga, Eduard, Tolys, and Feliks were supposed to drive back home to their respective countries earlier in the morning. However, an unexpected snowstorm postponed their return and they remained at Raivis’ house waiting out the storm.

Now, it was already dark outside. The howling of the bitterly frigid wind could be heard as it seemed to rattle and shake the walls of Raivis' house. The snow continued to fall nonstop. Eduard took one look out the window and at the never-ending blizzard. He glanced at the weather forecast on his phone. The storm was expected to continue until tomorrow morning. There was no way he could drive from Riga to Tallinn in this weather.

“Well, Raivis, looks like I might be stuck here for the night. The storm isn't supposed to let up until tomorrow morning."

"Eh, Me and Liet will be fine driving home." Feliks insisted.

"Really?" Tolys glared back at him.

Feliks peers out the window assessing the storm for himself "Okay, maybe not." he admits as he returns to his spot on Raivis’ living room sofa.

"It's okay, you all can stay the night if you would like," Raivis offered. “I’m sure we can find something fun to do."

"Hey, don't you have a stash of board games somewhere?" Eduard suggested.

"That sounds fun!" Lithuania agreed.

"But Feliks better not cheat like he always does!" Raivis responded.

"What? I don't cheat!"

“Yes, you do!"

"No, I secretly increase my odds of winning!"

"By completely disregarding all of the rules? That is cheating!"

“Ha! In my experience, you can't just expect people to play by the rules!"

"It's just a game Feliks!"

"And your point is what exactly?"

"You can't just cheat!"

"I already told you I don't cheat!"

"Both of you enough!" Tolys intervened, to put an end to their bickering. "Where to, Latvia?"

Raivis brought them into the next room, which seemed to function as both a space for projects and as a reading area. Bookshelves lined one of the walls filled with countless novels, chess boards, and other trinkets. Across along the other wall were two couches with quilts draped on the back cushions. Next to one of the couches was an end table with a table lamp illuminating another small pile of novels that Raivis must have been in the middle of reading. A collection of paintings and portraits depicting Raivis, his brothers, and his friends were displayed along the faded red and gold accented floral wallpaper. In the center of the room was a long wooden table with a few journals and pens sprawled across with a half-finished puzzle depicting the skyline of Riga towards one end of the table.

Raivis unlatched a handle and lifted the lid to a large wooden chest filled with board games. He began to pull out some games as he continued to dig through the chest.

"I also have puzzles too!" Raivis added. Eduard looked at the stack of puzzles and asked,

"Why do you have a thousand-piece puzzle that consists of only blank orange pieces?"

"Oh, I've done that puzzle a few times. It's actually pretty fun and relaxing.”

"Anyway, what game are we going to pick?" Feliks asked and the four of them looked at their options. Monopoly was complete chaos. Scrabble was also out of the question as Raivis only had the Latvian edition. Risk was a nightmare, and Poland's poker nights never ended well. Usually, money was not the only thing people lost in these tournaments, as Poland also accepted repayment in the form of expensive watches, jewelry, purses, or even small cities.

"What about Uno? That's fun, everyone knows the rules." Tolys suggested.

"Which rules, crazy Uno, spicy Uno, or regular Uno?" Feliks asked.

"Regular standard Uno," Tolys replied confused.

What are the other two?" Raivis asked.

"More extreme ways to play Uno! Totally cool right?" Feliks grinned, "But still, we definitely need to like, raise the stakes or something. What's your wager?"

"Uh, I really don't think we need to turn everything into a cutthroat gambling session, Feliks," Tolys replied.

"Okay fine, if you want to be boring like that,"

Lithuania ignored this comment and Raivis asked the group "So, is everyone alright with Uno?"

"Sounds good."

"Yep, I'm in!"

"Yeah, I guess I'm in,"

They all sat down, Estonia dealt seven cards for each of them, and the game began.

Classic Uno shenanigans ensued. Anytime someone was close to winning someone would crush their hopes with a draw four. This usually resulted in an exchange of something to the effect of “Fuck you!” or “Eduard! You son of a bitch!” or the faint whispering of incredibly vulgar Lithuanian obscenities that Tolys mistakenly believed that nobody else at the table could understand.

"Uno!" Latvia announced.

"Wait what?" Feliks said, glancing up from his hand of at least two dozen cards. Estonia placed his card and Feliks played his next turn. The pressure was now on Lithuania to prevent Raivis from winning.

"Stop him!"

Tolys scans his hand of cards and finds no available card to place, let alone stop Raivis from winning.

"Come on Liet!"

“Don’t let him win!”

 "I don't have anything that would work!" Tolys protested as he continued to draw more cards until he drew a wild card he could use.

"Um… okay, I'll go with…Blue!" Lithuania said, feeling the pressure from having both Eduard and Feliks cheer him on.

"I win!" Raivis declared proudly as he slammed his final card on the table.

"What the fuck Liet?" Feliks yelled back.

"You had a 75 percent chance to stop him, and you chose blue?" Eduard added.

"Well, I thank you, Lithuania!" Raivis said with a wide grin on his face.

"Now we are going to have to hear how he beat us in Uno for a week!" Eduard complained.

"You're just mad since you didn't win!"

"Hmm, I'll let you have this since everyone knows that I always beat you in every other game."

"Do not!"

"Do too!"

"Who cares? Feliks interrupted. "I had fun. We will now play another round!"

Eduard reshuffled and began to deal out a new hand to each person at the table.

"Alright, Let's begin!"

Notes

No cultural notes or translations this time. Well other than apparently other absolutely insane, but legitimate versions of Uno exist if you were curious. I Hope you enjoyed this! Thanks for reading!

[hauntedtrait]

show your wallpaper:

cabanel’s fallen angel is my favoritest painting in the whole wide world. my regular phone wallpaper is a painting of saint sebastian. i believe in homoerotic depictions of religious figures only!!

last song you listened to:

Just Like You Imagined - Nine Inch Nails

currently reading:

other peoples legacies on simblr dot com bc books are hard tho technically im like in the middle of 7 different books but fuck me if i remember anything going on in them

last movie you watched:

the d&d movie!!! it was so fucking good

last show you watched:

florida man lmao its on netflix its a crime drama its legit SO GOOD and so fun its a quick miniseries and i loved it

currently craving:

i wish my nose didnt smell like blood lol im sureeee thats fine

how tall are you?

5'5 😭

piercings?

lobe piercings, septum and eyebrow (the bitchest of all piercings to deal with)

tattoos?

7: my left arm features my dead cat, a mollymauk inspired triangle with a bleeding eye in it, zero the dog, dracula drinking out of a blood juice box, and the cutest clown you ever did see. on my right leg i have a key to room 217 in the overlook hotel, and mcr lyrics (i know) around a switchblade and some flowers.

glasses/contacts?

my vision SUCKS i have to wear glasses which i HATE

last thing you ate:

some reese’s cups

favorite color?

HOT PINK BABEYYYY

any pets?

i have 2 black cats who are siblings! bathory and wednesday bc theyre goths, duh

favorite fictional character?

mollymauk tealeaf!!

last place you traveled?

went to visit my dad and go to a concert with him in NC last april. havent rlly gone anywhere else since. BUT next weekend my boyfriend is taking me to a bird sanctuary 2 hours away, im very excited!!

tagging:

@aoifae @bibliosims @gothoffspring @rainymoodlet @mangosimoothie @crippledtrait & YOU! YOU READING THIS

[stlangels]

Can anyone id this art based on a vague description?

A while ago I saw one of those tiktoks that was like "is this what art is now?" at an art museum and the art she was standing in front of was what looked like kid's bedroom sky-pattern wallpaper (but it could have been a painting or photograph) with a haphazard cut right through the middle. It was framed. She turned off comments so I couldn't ask anyone and I lost the screenshot when my old phone broke. I know this is kind of hopeless but I've been looking for years I'm been obsessed with that art ever since I saw it. If you have any ideas I'd be so so thankful 🙏

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

CORRUPTED: a WIP Magnus Archives x Malevolent Fic (WIP)

Tim is not having a good time?

-_- And I know he's just a pinch horny in the middle of the horrrors, but this is Tim.

Who seduced multiple people of multiple genders for information and had a blast doing it.

Who saw a police officer visit Jon more than once, and assumed they were getting it on.

It's Tim. Just... Tim.

--------------

Tim wakes in the dark.

It’s not the first time he’s woken in the dark. The first, he was fifteen, indulging in illegal alcohol to deal with his father’s premature death, and he came to in a sort of… ditch. Pipe. Thing.

Which is a weird thing to recall right now. But it was dark, which is the point. It’s dark now, too.

He groans. His head feels… weird. Heavy. “What happened?” he mutters.

There’s carpet under him. Okay. That’s a start. But why is it so dark?

Tim pulls out his phone.

The screen isn’t working. 

Great. He must have broken it when he fell.

Did he fall?

The carpet means he’s not outside someplace, so he probably wasn’t robbed.

It probably wasn’t a stroke, or something medical.

Where the hell was this, anyway? He starts feeling around himself, trying to locate a wall, furniture, maybe a lamp.

Hello, friend.

Okay, so that’s… a big voice.

Tim goes very still. “Hello?”

Take it easy. You’ve had an accident, but you’re going to be okay.

“Shit,” says Tim. “Shit. Hey, do you have a light? I can’t see anything.”

Ha, I know.

“What?”

What’s your name, friend?

Such… a big voice.

It’s sexy, if he’s honest - crazy smooth, resonant. Probably sounded great with an ear to its owners’ chest.

But none of that really matters right now, because Tim knows he can’t be hearing it right. 

He can’t be.

Because this voice -

“I,” Tim says. “I’m… wait.”

It’s going to be all right. You can give me your name when you feel safer. Now, I’m going to need you to stand up very slowly. There’s a table right in front of you that you can use to get your balance. That’s it. Very good.

This voice isn’t in his ears.

It’s between them.

This can’t be right. Tim shakes his head, smacks the side of it. “What?”

There’s a book in front of you, where you dropped it on the table. I need you to pick it up for me.

“Wait. Wait, you…” This table. This carpet. Tim knows where he is. He fucking grew up here.

His parents’ house could never get this dark.

“Wait, what’s happening?” he says.

Take it easy, friend. I need you to pick up the book.

“Where are you?” Tim demands. “Where the fuck are you, because I can’t…” He reaches up over the small table to the wall, because he knows what this old wallpaper feels like, and yes, it’s there, and if he reaches higher, he can find the nail where one of the packed paintings was hung, and yes, it’s there, and - 

This house cannot get this dark.

Friend, says the voice, just a pinch less friendly. 

This voice is in his head, he has gone fucking blind, and also fucking crazy.

Tim takes out his phone. “Hey, Siri,” he says.

“Mm-hm?” Siri says, because his phone is not broken, and he just can’t see it.

Police, he thinks. Ambulance. 

A priest.

Tim starts laughing unsteadily and sinks back down to the floor.

There is a sigh in his head. Friend. I’m not going to hurt you.

“Sure! I’m just blind, and hearing voices! It’s great! This is all great.”

I need you to pick up the book. Do you remember opening it? The book is what put us both in this situation.

“Us both. In this situation. What, are you hearing voices, too?” Tim laughs again.

Well, friend... maybe I should be more clear. I’m trapped in your body. And I do mean trapped. My hope is the book can rectify the situation.

“I wouldn’t know! I can’t see!” Tim says.

I can.

Finally, that creepy little I know catches up to him, and Tim goes very still. “You stole my fucking eyes?”

Not stole, precisely… I seem to have landed in them. Perhaps because you used them to look at the book.

A whole series of thoughts land in Tim’s head like an itemized list.

One: Danny had told him not to open it.

Two: Some of Danny’s contacts had looked around Danny’s apartment and not found whatever they wanted. Maybe they were looking for the book.

Three: They’d killed Danny over it, so they probably still want it back.

Four: Now that Tim is possessed, or whatever is going on, it’s likely he’s become of great interest to the cultists, too.

He is suddenly very afraid. “This is real?” he whispers, sick to his stomach.

Very real. I know it’s a lot, friend, but I am not your enemy. Please pick up the book.

“How were you in a book?” Tim stands, though his legs are shaking, and feels along the table. “How does that happen to a person?”

You may find this hard to believe, but I don’t remember. That’s part of what I’d like to solve.

“Sure. Sure.” Only as Tim opens the book does he realize he’s probably being foolish.

One (because there go the lists again): He doesn’t know what repeatedly opening the book will do.

Two: He doesn’t know why someone would be put in a book.

Three: He thinks he might be going into shock.

Please turn the pages for me. There we go. Just like that, the voice soothes, and then begins murmuring in a language Tim has never encountered, presumably reading.

Tim can’t stop breathing too fast.

This can’t be happening. It can’t. Things like this don’t happen, so therefore, it can’t - 

The voice sighs. Well, friend, I have good news and bad news for you. Are you ready?

“I n… I need to sit down,” says Tim, and does. He puts his head in his hands. “This is happening?”

Yes.

He tells himself there wasn’t dark eagerness in that voice, in that word. He swallows. “Who are you?”

I think the more important question may be who are you.

Tim has no idea what to say to that. “I’m not… anybody.” He laughs weakly. “I’m not even employed right now.”

How did you get this book, friend?

“I don’t even know what the book is,” says Tim, avoiding the question. “Or who you are. Or… fuck, what you are.”

Silence.

“Hello?” says Tim.

I’m here. Friend, take a breath. You’re safe.

“Safe! I’m blind!”

I’m not. This isn’t going to be permanent.

“Explain.”

I’d like your name, first.

“Why? Dark deeds?" says Tim, recalling the few DND campaigns he'd enjoyed while dating Oscar, and later Elizabeth. "Does it give you power, getting my name?”

Oh, the being's chuckle is wicked, absolutely wicked, and Tim would have loved to hear it in friendly, intimate circumstances - but hearing it now, blind, trapped, stuck with some weird voice in his head, is not at all sexy.

No, friend. It’s polite. We’re about to be very close for what is hopefully a short time, and it seems to me that names will make this… easier.

“Fuck it,” Tim says. “This might as well happen. Tim. All right? I'm Tim. And who the hell are you? Eldritch Barry White?”

You can call me… John.

So that delivery couldn’t be clearer, because it was mocking, and amused, and sort of weirdly bitter. “That's not your name at all, is it?”

It’s not. It is, however, the one I choose to use, for… personal reasons.

The voice sounds way too entertained, and weirdly enough, this is the moment Tim realizes he is not imagining what’s happening.

He would not have imagined someone giving him a fake name and thinking it funny in this situation.

He certainly wouldn’t have imagined “John.” Beelzebub, maybe, or something wild like Radagascar.

Tim goes quiet.

Tim, says the voice, too smooth, too innocent: Why do you have this book?

Tell him, or no?

Is there a point to lying?

Blind. Tim is blind.

This is… this is so frightening that he can’t fully think past it. 

Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe it’s not. He has no idea. “My brother… stole it from some cultists, I think. He told me that. Asked me to hide the book. Then he was murdered.”

Silence for a moment. All right. That’s good, Tim. That’s very good. I wasn’t entirely sure of your innocence; but I can feel it in you. You mean what you say.

“Well, I don’t have much of a reason to lie right now.” Tim’s voice cracks.

Tim, is there a mirror? I’d like to see you.

Tim knows where a mirror is, of course. He knows how many steps to the bathroom, knows how to turn on the light he cannot see. “You think if we… you… I can get my sight back?”

I don’t see why not. You don’t have it now because I landed in your eyes. Surely, if we transfer me back out, your eyes will work again.

Tim does not care if that is a lie. He needs it.

He’s still sniffling as he walks, from memory, to the bathroom, and flicks on the light.

Oh, Tim, says John. You’re a very handsome man.

“Lucky me,” Tim mutters.

This is good. We can use this.

“What?” Tim manages.

Humans respond well to attractiveness - and you are very attractive. We can use this to find out what we need to about our… situation. We can get us separated.

Tim knows he’s handsome. Less so than Danny, but certainly nothing to be ashamed of. “How? With who? I don’t know anybody, John. I’m not going to go to the people who killed my brother. Fuck no, I’m not doing that.”

No, I wouldn’t suggest that. Whatever they intended with this result… we should stay away from them.

That is oddly reassuring.

Is there some… kind of wizardry in your life?

That takes Tim a moment. “Um. What?”

Wizards. Worshipers. Something.

Tim laughs. “I worked in publishing. No. Fucking no. I don’t know anybody. And maybe Danny did, but he didn’t label his contacts, so fuck if I know who they are.”

A pause.

All right. We’re going to need someone versed in the esoteric, Tim.

Tim likes how “John” says his name. That genuinely makes everything worse.

“I don’t know anybody like that.”

There must be someone.

Tim has to think. 

Gods, he wishes Danny was alive.

He could ask. Danny would know. Danny would have friends.

“I’m going to need a moment,” he says.

Take your time, Tim. It’s all right.

Fuck this voice.

Fuck this voice’s owner.

Fuck whoever had the book, and the put the voice in it, and made it so damn easy to undo.

Then Tim vaguely recalls news items that everyone talked about a few years ago, when files leaked, and a particular organization was raked through the coals for being academic nonsense.

He'd paid no attention because it obviously was nonsense.

Except now, nothing is obvious, at all.

“There may be someplace we can go,” he says, softly. “I…” His voice cracks. “I’m going to do a search on my phone, but you’ll… need to read the results.”

Clever boy. Go on.

It helps, that praise.

Which is stupid.

It shouldn’t help.

But it does, and Tim is not in a position to pretend otherwise. “Hey, Siri: search The Magnus Institute, London.”

[evr1thing]

Creating a Bumbleby-inspired wallpaper with Midjourney

tl;dr - Here are the 3 final images. If you like them, feel free to use these images as your phone wallpaper. Let me know if you do, I’ll be happy to hear from you!

If you’re interested in how to generate such images, I wrote a simple step-by-step tutorial below these images.

Image generation via Midjourney - tutorial

I’ve been a bumbleby shipper for the past 10 years and the recent bumbleby kiss got me screaming (literally!!!). Hence, I was inspired to generate a wallpaper to commemorate how beautiful the scene was.

Cue Midjourney.

Quick background: Midjourney is a generative AI tool, and its main feature is generating images from text prompts. It is accessible via discord.

Too lazy to think of specific prompts? No problem, just ask Midjourney to generate prompts based on the bumbleby kiss concept art with the /describe command.

/describe <upload bumbleby concept art image>

From Midjourney’s documentation: 

The /describe command allows you to upload an image and generate four possible prompts based on that image. Use the /describe command to explore new vocabulary and aesthetic movements.

/describe generates prompts that are inspirational and suggestive, it cannot be used to recreate an uploaded image exactly. /describe returns the aspect ratio for uploaded images.

This produces 4 possible prompts to generate images of a similar vibe/style.  Note: --ar is the aspect ratio of the image.

Next, use the /imagine command with each of the 4 prompts (with small tweaks) to see the types of images generated.

1st prompt:

2nd prompt:

3rd prompt:

(I did not try the 4th prompt.)

After some trial and error, I decided that I liked the images generated from the 1st prompt the most. I also added "white lilies blooming in the background" to the prompt since lilies were blooming during the bumbleby kiss (so romantic omg).

However, I didn’t like the tower in the middle. Hence, I decided to just focus on the blooming lilies in the foreground.

Here’s the final prompt I used (I also tweaked the aspect ratio so that it is suitable to be used as a phone wallpaper: --ar 18:39):

/imagine a painting of white lilies blooming in the foreground, with violet and gold sky, in the style of magical girl, sunrays shine upon it, i can't believe how beautiful this is, colorful animation stills, love and romance --ar 18:39

I like the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th image.

Note: I was able to do the above in Midjourney with the basic $10/month subscription. If you prefer using an open-source/free tool, you can try experimenting on other tools such as Stable Diffusion.

Post-generation

The generated images look good, but after setting it as my phone wallpaper, I noticed that they were a little blurry.

Hence, I used Let’s Enhance to upscale the image. This service is free for the first 10 images.

The enhanced images are much clearer now. 

Success!

[silver-ink-iron-words]

Nope still broken. Must be a phone problem.

That said if you could please continue shifter? It's so good!

Ah man, sorry about that. Hopefully the links in this post work

Also, thanks for the request :)

----

CW - discussion of suicide

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Major Shift, Part 4

The tangerine and crimson leaves fluttered into the gentle creek, as Dara stared at the switchblade in their hands.

It had been easy to accept their death when it was an abstract concept. The inevitable outcome of being turned. When it was something that would happen to them, rather than something they’d have to take care of themself.

They weren’t even surprised when the smoke began to pool and slither around their knees.

“Please, kid,” the Shifter King said, settling down beside them in his human form. “Don’t do that.”

“How’d you find me?”

“This is my forest. I always know what’s happening in it.”

Dara kept their eyes on the knife. Ending things here would mean that they wouldn’t be fulfilling the High Huntsman’s wishes. It would be abandoning everything they’d sworn to protect.

But to live out their days as a shifter, to slowly lose themself piece by piece until there was nothing left but the beast . . .

Maybe if they were quick enough, they could do it before the villain had a chance to stop them.

“I think I’ll hold on to that,” he said, taking the knife from their grip. Dara noticed, passively, how careful he was to not touch the silver metal blade.

They turned their gaze up to the fiery trees. It was beautiful as a painting. “Do you think this is kindness?”

“I do.”

Dara sighed. They probably wouldn’t have had the guts to go through with it anyways.

They held up their wrists to be tied.

The villain looked between Dara’s hands and their face. It seemed to take him a moment to realize what they were doing.

“Come on.” He slapped a hand on their shoulder, rising up. “I want to show you something.”

----

Dara wasn’t surprised that the shifters’ base was a sprawling Victorian mansion in the middle of the woods.

What they hadn’t expected was the chipper yellow paint, the elegant wrap-around porch, and the game of frisbee happening on the front lawn.

“David,” a shifter said, after throwing the bright plastic disc. Most of their skin was covered in lichen. “Is that the murderer?”

Dara stiffened. But before they could even think of running, the villain wrapped an arm around their shoulder. 

“Everyone, meet Dara,” he said, addressing the small crowd of shifters. “Our newest recruit. I want you all to welcome them just like you’d welcome each other.”

“I’m not – ”

“Now let’s get inside,” he continued. “We need to have that planning meeting.”

Inside was, put simply, absolute chaos.

It’s not that things were messy. Quite the opposite – the floors were swept, the shelves dusted, the tabletops cleared of clutter.

It’s that the developers must have been high out of their minds when they designed the place.

The front door led first through somebody’s bedroom, and then through a kitchen with a washing machine where the stove should have been. The hallways changed colors and wallpapers as the group passed through them, the floors switching back and forth between tile and wood. They passed one room where every piece of furniture was cat-themed, one that was a steamy greenhouse, one that was nothing but wall-to-wall doors.

Dara suffered vertigo just trying to keep up.

“Where’s the meeting room today?” the villain asked, dodging under a string of vines hanging down from the ceiling.

“Upstairs, ’round where the ballroom used to be,” said a shifter with enormous ox horns.

They approached a staircase, and Dara could see a girl between the slats. She was carving a jack-o-lantern, the knife digging firmly into one of the pumpkin’s yellowy eyes.

They went swerving up the stairs, which were arranged in some confusing crisscross that reminded Dara of a double helix. 

“What’s with this place?” they hissed.

“Welcome to Witchwood Manor,” the villain said. “The place is cursed. Or blessed? It’s hard to tell sometimes. But I wouldn’t recommend leaving your stuff lying around.”

They finally reached a meeting room with tall windows and a long wooden table. The shifters piled around it, with the villain standing at the head. Dara ended up just beside him.

“Well, good news everyone,” he began. “We’ve uncovered a photo of the book.”

“And here I was hoping that you’d actually found the damn thing,” a shifter said.

“So impatient,” the villain replied with a grin. He pressed a button on a remote, and a projector screen began to lower. “Now that we've found this, the most recent known location is Munich, 1998.”

“So we have to go to Germany?”

The ox shifter rolled her eyes. “There’s no reason to think it’s still there, Benjamin.”

The projector clicked on, and a grainy photo appeared. It was in a stone courtyard, featuring a smiling woman holding an ancient book. It was thick, and the pages were uneven. The image of a gnarled, leafless tree was carved into the withered black leather.

But as strange as the book was, a different detail stood out. The woman had a small tattoo on her forearm – an arrow intercepted with three curved lines. The exact same symbol could be found on Dara’s shoulder blade.

The Hunter’s Sigil.

The shifters continued to discuss the book, reviewing their findings and brainstorming where it could be located. To Dara’s astonishment, none of them mentioned the mark.

“Why do you want it so badly?” they asked after a while.

Every eye in the room fell upon them.

“Ah yes,” the villain said. “Thank you for speaking up, Dara. I nearly forgot to explain.” He gestured to the image. “This spell book was written by Joan Morton. The most renowned witch of her time, and the creator of this very manor.”

Dara blinked. “Witches aren’t real.”

The lichen shifter glanced to them. “You’ve never heard that the first shifters were created by witches?”

“I’ve heard that myth, yes.”

“Well, regardless,” the villain said. “We know the book is real. And we know that it contains a variety of very useful spells. Ones that could keep this pack safe against our rivals.”

Dara looked again to the photo. “I hope you don’t think I’m going to help you find it.”

The villain’s eyes lit up in a way that Dara didn’t like. “You may be interested to know, there’s a rumour that one of the spells contained in this book can turn shifters back into humans.”

Dara straightened in their seat. The room buzzed with whispered conversation.

The villain smiled. He knew he had them.

“What the hell is that homicidal freak doing here?”

Everyone looked to the doorway. There stood Corbin, bitter gaze fixed on Dara.

“Ah, Corbin, perfect timing,” the villain said. “I was just about to tell Dara how I’ll be matching them with a partner, to help ease their transition into the pack.”

Dara and Corbin locked eyes with each other. “You can’t mean . . .”

“Oh, but I do.” The villain’s smile was mischievous. “I just know you two will be the absolute best of friends.”

[finleycannotdraw]

Hi there! I noticed you reblogged those ask games for all the tad albums, and I don't remember what question this is but what lyrics would you say just SEND you from each of the albums?

AAAAY HELLO

okay so. this is probably going to be at least one lyric from every song

love run lyrics that send me™️:

“all hell and its fire waits for us” “my entire life it’s running away too fast, watching everyone you’ve ever loved walk past, never really quite getting the knack of knowing that no one will ever come back for you” “for christs sake just say something” “it cannot be a lie if no one hears” “I’m stronger now than you have ever known” “can’t you see that I’m enough for you but you don’t want me to be cause that means you’ll actually have to be content” “it starts off like a pinprick, a trick of the light, oil slick” “I cannot find the words to keep you” “we showed the world that we exist, didn’t really like the pattern that much on the wallpaper so anyway” “if I’m good will you come back” “where is god ma where’s the vodka if my old mum could see me now oh how she’d how she’d hold my hand as you shook in the middle of the night” “let the world come at you love with all its sand and sin a-singing, the song you once knew well’s begun, run until your lungs are numb, let the earth a-tumble love and humble you withal keep running” “let foul men band and heed your hum for that ancient hymn you heard me strumming is naught but fumble falls and tumbleweeds love run it’s not that rum would solve though some would harm you none not one no none would raise to you a hand nor thumb not while by you I stand and hum love run” “it’s not from what we run that drums but what’s to come, love what’s love what’s love what’s to come”

the horror and the wild:

“I pray to god it’s the kindest thing to never leave you alone” “gimme back my heart you wingless thing” “witness me old man I am the wild” “that I might understand as best I can how bold I was could be will be still am by god still am, fret not dear heart let not them hear the mutterings of all your fears the flutterings of all your wings” “flirt (wasn’t flirting) at the back of a bookshop” “hold me lover like you used to so tight I’d bruise you” “I know you’re strong enough to do this on your own” “he’s down he’s dead he’s gone oh he’s lost he’s flown he’s fled now take a good long look at what you’ve all done to me” “I’m old waylaid and feels like I am wading into carpet burns and carousels christ you’ll be the death of me and calm throughout his melodrama she will turn and say dear heart it’s me it’s me you don’t need to pretend to be someone you’re not” “you you touch my skin peels off like paint” “as the belt from your buckle is tightening I make shipwrecks out of my dress” “and I get in and for some reason you’ve painted the kitchen lime green and I sink to the floor what’s the point anymore and you you reply with a glint in your eye singing I don’t know but I’m hear oh dear god dear heart don’t cry” “now even though you’re mad and these memories won’t stay that’s okay cause now I get to meet you for the first time every single day” “look at me as you say this (you’re home) don’t look at your phone (for gods sake I’m)” “I feel hunger at last for that person fifteen year old me would be proud to have known” “these lines aren’t wrinkles dear heart they’re just dollops of paint on a new work of art”

ruin (literally every single lyric okay)

“look into those secret worlds you call eyes” “when I think I’m fine you’ll visit and then you happen to me all over again” “the rain kept coming down I’ll watch that woman drown” “I don’t find this easy like you” “gonna go home and show my cat some memes cause he’s awesome like me” “if god made us all in his image then god’s a fucking nerd” “I might not make it tonight” THE ENTIRETY OF CHORDS but specifically “they are my rascals I can’t let them walk away/we built our castles just to watch them wash away” “walk into your dawn you snotrags tell em we never cared go tell them how we fucked you up and oh my god it’s so unfair we were the winter nights so you could be the morning snow cause life begins by leaving and our love is shown in the letting go” “be good be safe be kind know we’ll always love you even though you’re leaving us behind” “you are in the earth of me” “I’m lifting my class to that last good man grace who has left me he’s left me at last” “let’s bury this I’m all yours but you’re all mine let’s dance together you and I cause I’m not trapped with you you see you’re the one who’s trapped with me” “don’t you think I look pretty curled up on this bathroom floor” “we’ll dance together so close we’re sharing breath but now I’m leading doesn’t that just scare you to death” “I will bring you ruin” “nothing quite prepared me for when that piano sang again” “tomorrow I’ll do things different tomorrow I’ll be brave” “if I don’t make it back from where I’ve gone just know I loved you all along”

TL;DR I am in love with literally every single song by this band.

[silvertonguc]

GET TO KNOW THE MUN.

what’s your phone wallpaper : a ruth wilson collage my friend made 

last song you listened to : probably ‘all too well’ (10 min version) or ‘don’t blame me’ by taylor swift

currently reading : i just started ‘eleanor oliphant is completely fine’

last movie : i rewatched ‘soul’ yesterday and cried more at the ending than i did the first time...

last show : i watched ‘sweet tooth’ season 2 recently... cutest show ever, excited for the last season!

what are you wearing right now : pjs and a fluffy leopard-print dressing gown bc i’m cold.

how tall are you? : 5'9+ so quite tall

piercings / tattoos? :  i just have my ears pierced, i don’t have any tattoos. too indecisive for that

glasses ? contacts? : no

last thing you ate? : chocolate easter egg i had somehow saved

favorite color(s) : pink

current obsession : not sure that i have just one specific obsession atm, more accurately too many which fight for my brain’s attention. playing piano, painting, astrology, hdm and taylor swift are a few currently, aside from writing.

any pets : two guinea pigs, pantalaimon (pan) and diego :’)

do you have a crush right now?: if my long list of adored, middle-aged, female actors count, then yes. 

favorite fictional character : marisa coulter, lyra belacqua, regina mills, esmé squalor...

last place you traveled : i travelled around the uk quite recently (york, oxford, etc.) the last place abroad i went was the us. planning to travel a bit more this summer (scotland, more of europe...)

tagged by: @toxicmalicex

tagging: anyone who would like to, feel free to tag me as ‘tagged by’ <3