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yayll · 4 months ago

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~ a little something about the complicated way you and Dazai acknowledge each other's feelings ~

"We can't let it end like this. We simply can't."

"Dazai, what are you talking about? I'm literally just going on my lunch break."

"... I'll find a way for us to be together! Someday!"

You've been bickering back and forth with him ever since you stepped foot in the agency this morning, or more like he's been performing a whiney one sided narrative that you and your co-workers are more than familiar with. Though it's only ever directed at you. The confusing declarations of love, the lack of personal space, and then there are the days he won't even look or speak to you at all. It was emotional whiplash, but you did your best to drown out the feelings he evoked in you.

Dangerous ones you wouldn't dare indulge in, because if so, you get the feeling your heart would never recover from a man like Dazai. You grab your wallet, and push in your desk chair when he calls out to you once more in a much more serious tone, one that sounds bored.

"If you must leave, will you please pick up something on your way back for me?"

"What is it this time?"

"Bandages, I suppose"

He says that like it's an afterthought, like he couldn't care less for whatever he was asking for.

He's been asking you to go on odd little shopping trips for him for weeks now, and you being the dog you are, say yes every single time. You think about how Dazai loathes dogs. It makes you physically ill the way you feel about him. Whatever it is. You nod, and reply softly.

"Okay. Sure."

"So compliant! If I didn't know any better l'd say you're madly in love with me. Should we run off into the sunset and get married?"

You simply stare at his sardonic smile for a long while, and he stares back. It's like you're sending each other psychic waves, secret messages only you two could decode. Only you two could fathom. He stares into you with that piercing gaze of his, the one that might as well call you an idiot for ever thinking there's a real person behind his heavenly face. His eyes are pretty, they make yours feel dull in comparison. After a while, a faint half smile creeps onto your lips, trying to feign the same indifference as his. You fail, obviously.

"Mm, sounds too hopeful, even for you."

"Yikes! Right you are. Commitment. How awful.... No one wants that kind of trouble."

Dazai states cruelly, leaning back into his chair at his desk, arms crossed. He has to bite down to keep from smiling and giggling like a fool, as this is exactly what he wishes would happen.

His heart flutters for a brief moment at the visual of such a fantasy, such privilege to have you forever. He knows how badly you secretly want this too, but he doesn't plan on putting you out of your misery just yet. Shame on you to think of him as a real person who's allowed to pursue the things he wants! He continues when he sees you've gone completely silent, standing with your keys in your hand like a mannequin.

"Besides, I'm sure you've met plenty of other guys that are far more suitable for you. I mean, look at me, I used to be a criminal." He winks at you, hinting at his sketchy past. He's such a fantastic performer when he's at his worst.

"... And no one wants that kind of trouble, right?" You echo his past words back to him, once again failing to match his rejection.

"Oh you wretched little creature. Right again!"

You can't take much of this any longer, smiling politely as you simply turn around, and walk out of the agency. Your eyes sting.

Dazai just sits there, staring at the door, counting the seconds until you're back. He rests his chin on his palm, unblinking. He taps his fingers on the desk, and lets out a deep sigh. It's all he does, all he looks forward to every single day you leave.

You finally come back nearly an hour later, carrying a small bag and leftovers from your lunch. He lights up like the moon during the clearest night sky, and stands up immediately. His demeanor completely changes as he flashes you a delighted grin, rushing to you.

"You're back~"

"Yeah, here are your bandages."

"My what?"

"The bandages you asked for..?"

His eyes widen for a moment, and then he chuckles, shaking his head. He flicks his own forehead.

"Of course! Thank you. Now, may I have the receipt as well?"

He looks excited, his open palm cupped in front of you, as if you were giving him a treat. You raise a brow and shrug, handing him the crumpled piece of paper. You don't even question it anymore. He frowns. You think he looks like a disgruntled little kid.

"Ugh. You wrinkled it."

"What? Why does it matter?"

"Well I obviously wanted to keep it, silly goose."

You try to make sense of what he could possibly mean, and you decide it's not worth getting into. You can't afford the heartache nor the brain cells.

"That's the weirdest thing you've ever asked me."

"Not true. I've never asked you for a kiss~"

You almost drop to the floor with the way his eyes darken, despite his tone being the complete opposite. You stare at him yet again for what feels like ages, your heart set ablaze, with Dazai being the pyromaniac who won't let your embers die out of his own amusement. Your voice comes out low, meek.

"Well I'm clearly not the person you dream of, so no."

You could swear his awful smirk falls off just a tiny bit, but any evidence of that is gone in a blink of an eye. His voice comes out soft and laced with a hint of honeyed bitterness.

"And if you weren't, l'd dream of you anyway."

He mutters under his breath as he looks out the window, as if you weren't supposed to hear that. the sun is slowly setting and the moon will illuminate soon after. He wishes he could see what you look like at night.

You roll your eyes because if you don't, you'll bury your face in his chest and sob. Oh, he's the worst. You put on your best cynical voice followed by a scoff.

"That's lovely, Dazai."

"You look lovely." He states simply, still looking at the way the moon ghosts in the sky.

"... Thank you."

"It's my pleasure." He murmurs, solemnly. In that moment, you don't catch it, but he's telling you he loves you too.

And just like that, you slowly walk past him and sit at your desk. You might have a stroke, but you still have reports to finish.

Dazai quietly does the same, sitting down and opening a drawer, and then a secret compartment within it. He glances at you for a moment, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he flashes you an exaggerated smile when you catch him looking, then turns his attention back down, the smile dropping.

He places the wrinkled receipt into a larger stack of countless other receipts, all from past errands you've run for him lately. He smoothes it carefully, for it is a priceless sentiment amongst his collection of the things you so graciously give him. It's pathetic, but it's like holding your hand. It's like kissing you. It's like true love.

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izzasecretredacted · 8 months ago

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Homework for Those Who Have No Context for Drake's Public Execution

I've been an off and on fan of rap for a while, based on whether or not my hyperfixations takes me there. With the absolute blindsiding of the Kendrick/Drake beef breaking tumblr, I figured I go back and find some stuff I remembered hearing about in the past. I'll put them here as a brief history lesson, in case you want to know just what Kendrick is talking about and why everyone is rejoicing in the downfall of some popstar that you maybe heard at the supermarket or something...

btw, I'm not posting these in chronological order, but the order of how relevant I think they are and the order I think they're best absorbed.

youtube

This is an essay from about 2 years ago, and is the most indepth source that I'll post here. It talks a lot about Drake's place in Hip-Hop, and also goes into the idea of Drake as a culture-vulture.

This is a 3yo article that has a lot of "Fresh Hot Drama" vibes to it (might be a misread on my part tbf), but is a great secondary source of things that made people question whether Drake was a predator. None of it is completely definitive, but at least a handful of what's presented is very Yikes.

youtube

This is a very brief video that's a whopping 7 years old, but really only stopped being relevant this month (with the exception of a period in time about 2 years after this which will be clear later). It explains Drake's reputation as being untouchable whenever he finds himself in a rap beef, even when very real violence is involved. It also has some foreshadowing to present day. 4:06 in particular is really interesting in hindsight.

youtube

Lastly is the only diss track before now that really put a mark on Drake's reputation, even if it was a small one in the strictly long term. I'm posting a lyric video because the cover to the single is an old picture of Drake in the most blatant blackface imaginable (no, really, blackface is super fucked up in all forms, but this is ssuuuppppeeerrr fucked up) and I didn't want to lock this behind a content warning. The song mentions some of Drake's family (such as his parents, Sandi and Dennis), as well an extremely wild allegation that I guarantee you could not make up. You'll know what it is when it comes up in the song, it's why the song is called "The Story Of Adidon". Its also important to note that Drake admitted that that allegation is true... after a year.

I'm open to anyone else commenting on what I might've missed, but hopefully this should be enough that you can go through was is now an EP's worth of diss tracks from Kendrick and get a more full sense of what's happening around them.

#kendrick lamar #aubrey graham #meet the grahams #not like us #Youtube

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bellewintersroe · 1 year ago

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Max Verstappen X HornerDaughter!

Part 6- here’s the LINK to part 5. Thank you for all your support! Only a small chapter, but 100% more coming, just you wait… When Red Bull fail to establish their dominance in Singapore, it seems nobody can get off of Max’s back, despite the fact he’s happy for Carlos and the McLaren boys on the podium. All the doubting gets to his head and in the end there’s only one person he turns to for support. Leni secretly freaks when she realises her and Max keep getting closer… Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone @roseseraj @eugene-emt-roe @copper-boom @its-elias-world @cassiopeiia24

“But is Max Verstappen really happy for Carlos Sainz, or is that just a cover up?”

“Max- Max how do you feel? Should it have been you up on the podium today?”

“Max how does it feel that the Red Bull dominance has been broken?!”

“We’re sensing some tension lingering around Max Verstappen today in Singapore after he takes 5th place. It was an astonishing race for Carlos, we can’t quite say the same about the man who has been dominating the 2023 season!”

Poor Max. It was no wonder the poor guy just wanted to get out of the media’s eye. He was so happy for his friends on the podium, he was still confident and self-assured, but the media kept portraying him to be some kind of villain that was spiteful for his own close friends. Even Checo, the media harassed to shit, but Max seemed to take the brunt of it.

No matter how happy he was, it wasn’t enough for the press who constantly accused him of being a brat, or pissed off about the race. I was positive there was nothing Max could do to please them, so when he headed back to his hotel in peace, I was disappointed, but not so surprised.

Me on the other hand, after four drinks in I’d twisted my ankle and ended up limping back to my room, the kind receptionist from downstairs offering me an icepack. It was pretty boring sitting alone in my room when everybody else was out, even my whole family was somewhere but I’d drunken too much too quickly and paid for it soon after.

That’s when I thought of Max. He too was in his room, probably asleep after such an exhausting day. In my tipsy mind I lifted my phone up, glancing through our previous texts. I’d not responded to his last message which was just a simple not explanation of why the RB’s didn’t work so well on specific types of circuits. I’d seen him in person and felt too awkward to text when we were in the same proximity.

Snapping a picture of the ice pack over my ankle I sent him a bunch of pissed off emojis, feeling playful.

Leni: don’t drink Prosecco it fucks you over It wasn’t so long later when Max actually responded. I was surprised it was so quick, but god- I wanted him so bad. I felt like having him, especially now, so soon after a break up would be a little sour for everybody around us, never mind that my own dad was his team principle.

Max: wtf Leni how did you manage that, are you ok?

Leni: hahahaha don’t even ask I’m good, are you?

Max: yeah just pissed off with all the media today. I don’t want to see a single person else. I cringed at his words. Yikes. That was my invite gone. Rereading my messaged to make sure they made sense, I sent a simple message of; Leni: I don’t blame you

Max took a while to respond after that. I was actually falling asleep, my eyes feeling heavy until the buzzing of my phone aroused me quicker than I could process.

Max: unless you wanna come chill with for a while “Oh, Max. I don’t know how you deal with them. They make it out like you’re gonna start a war with Carlos just because you didn’t get a podium, once.” I sat on the edge of his bed, continuing to hold the ice pack to my ankle.

“Exactly, and I don’t know why!” He paced from one end of the room to the other. “They like drama.” I pointed out.

“True, but…” Max plopped himself on the hotel bed. “I feel fine for Japan, I’m confident, but when you’ve got millions of people doubting you it gets kinda irritating.” I winced slightly at his words. Max usually didn’t be so open about his feelings with this side of the media, I knew truthfully he never really give two shits what they thought, but when people were constantly at him I was positive he must’ve found it jarring.

“You’ve also got millions supporting you again.” I responded as he smiled gently. “Yeah. I know that.” His voice was gentle, grateful, he sounded humble. It was a side to hum media didn’t like to show, especially in drive to survive.

“I know I will be.” I shrugged, glancing over to see him smiling down to his sweats. It was a miracle to see him something other than jeans. “Thanks, Leni.”

“Or maybe I’ll switch teams completely and start going to the Ferrari garage.” Max threw a pillow at me in response.

“Dick.” I snickered, scooting further up onto the bed to rest against the headboard, besides Max. There was still possibly the largest gap between us that I’d ever witnessed.

“Could you imagine what my dad would say?”

“I don’t think he’d be too happy.” Max smirked. “Neither would I.”

“Really?” I gazed over his expression. He was still smiling, indicating he couldn’t have been too serious. “Yeah, I mean, you’re part of our team. If you’re not there it would be weird.”

Hours passed and soon we’d both retired under the covers, watching the TV in a comfortable silence. The alcohol that once streamed through my body had fallen stagnant and I was feeling more nervous than when I initially arrived into Max’s room. I stole a glance at him, his eyelids were heavy as he watched the movie, something I hadn’t paid attention to in a good hour.

The gap between us had closed slightly, and I felt myself overthinking more and more about how soon it was to be in this position with him. Friends do this, right? As long as there was no physical contact, as bad as I wanted it, it would be fine.

So the minute I felt Max’s hand brush against the bare skin of my elbow I felt myself completely freak, fidgeting my legs and accidentally kicking my bad ankle. “Ow, fuck. I kicked myself.” I pushed myself up, pretending to be completely and utterly blind to how close we were laid previously.

“Are you ok?” Max too, pushed himself up. I pushed the covers off me and glanced at my slightly swollen ankle. “I’m fine, just… hurt.” I winced, lowering it off the side of the bed.

“Oh- you can stay… if you want.” Max muttered, sounding a little nervous. My stomach grew butterflies, my heart felt like it exploded and as badly as I wanted to say yes and jump on him- something was stopping me.

“It’s okay. I better go to bed, thank you though.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“30 seconds down the hall?” I giggled as he shrugged like it was obvious. I realised how rude that sounded, to turn down his offer. “It’s okay, thank you though, Max. I would stay but Blue is there- and if I don’t come back, you know, it looks a little…”

“I get it. Then they all start asking questions.” Max agreed as I offered him another smile. “Yeah. Exactly.” I turned my head a way, hesitating to actually turn around and leave. Max stood besides me at the door and to avoid any other form of intimate interaction I avoided eye contact at all cost.

By the time I’d got back to my bedroom I’d well and truly wanted to top myself. Well done Leni, well fucking done. That could have been one of the most finest moments of my life, not!

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #Max Verstappen x OC #Max Verstappen x HornerDaughter #max verstappen #F1 x reader #f1 x oc

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lionhanie · 6 months ago

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lee riwoo ; everything i didn’t say

VERY angsty (be warned i cried), ex boyfriend! riwoo, first love gone wrong :(, i refer to riwoo by his birth name (sanghyeok), did not really proofread :P

word count: 1.4k

warnings: cursing, relationship issues (yikes), angst

this work is part of my boynextdoor as old 5sos songs series! ↳ if you want to listen to the song, link is here

a/n: i can't lie i think i wrote riwoo out to be kind of a douche in this but it was For The Angst ok. and also he's remorseful about it so... it's fine i guess loooool

likes ♡ and reblogs ↺ always appreciated!

sanghyeok is stuck in a loop. photobooth pictures of the two of you, the (now) dead bouquet you got him after his first performance, the hoodie that you’d always wear when you came over. he can’t look around his apartment without being reminded of your relationship, but he’d rather die than get rid of the remaining traces of you in his life. the two of you were highschool sweethearts; becoming dance partners at random in a club after school and the rest was history.

your chemistry was unmatched, not just while you were dancing together, but even when the music stopped, it was just you two in your own world. really, it was perfect-- everyone around you two was convinced you guys were going to be together forever with the way you looked at each other with literal hearts in your eyes.

that is, until it was time for the two of you to part following your graduation. sanghyeok was moving a 3-hour train ride away from your hometown, making it much harder to see each other frequently. it worked for a while, he likes to think. every other saturday, you’d always wake up early in the morning to catch the first train over to your boyfriend-- but even then, you’d only get to spend less than a full twenty four hours together before you needed to go home for class on monday. there wasn’t any… bad blood between you two per se, but rather life seemed to get in the way of your relationship.

“the way you held me / i wish that i’d put you first / i was wrong i admit, numb from your kiss / while you were slipping through my finger tips”

sanghyeok was heavily involved in the dance club at his university, oftentimes running to practice immediately after class. practice /alone/ would eat up a couple hours of his limited free time, and the rest of the time he would spend trying to catch up with coursework that was slowly creeping up on him.

his texts become less frequent, and when he does finally send you a message, he’d never be active long enough to actually have a meaningful conversation. the two of you pinky promised that you’d try to call every night to keep in touch, but sanghyeok would often miss your designated calling time, explaining that he was still in the studio, or was stuck trying to learn the material from this week’s classes, or that he was simply too tired to call that night.

“all the wrongs that i hoped would erase from your memories / holding onto a broken and empty heart / flowers i should’ve bought / all the hours i lost / wish i could take it back to the start”

maybe he was too naive to think that the distance would be fine-- that your relationship would be exactly how it was in high school, where the two of you had butterflies in your stomach each time you saw each other. he didn’t realize how neglectful he’d been until you called him in tears one day, a little past one am (and long past your usual 9pm call time, that he missed, again), when he was on his way back to his apartment after practice. huh? that’s odd. you aren’t usually up this late.

“do you even care anymore? i want you to be honest, sanghyeok, please.” your voice is coarse, it’s obvious that you’ve been crying, especially with the small hiccups you can’t seem to hide as you speak. “if you aren’t going to try anymore, we should just break up.”

“y/n? baby, what are you saying right now? what do you mean we should break up?”

you almost scoff at his words, in complete disbelief that /he/ doesn’t even know what he’s doing wrong. “this is the fourth time this week you’ve avoided our calls. jesus, have you even read any of the past texts i’ve sent you?” your voice breaks, filled with both frustration and utter heartbreak.

“to be honest, i really needed you tonight. you know, you’re not the only one who’s busy. life has been kicking me in the ass lately and the only thing that keeps me going recently is the thought of hearing your voice at the end of the day, but now i can’t even get that! shit, i’ve been so patient with you, sanghyeok-- with us.”

“hey, i’m sorry, okay? i’m sorry i didn’t read your texts earlier, and sorry for missing our call earlier..” he takes the phone away from his ear, checking the time and putting you on speaker. 1:15 AM. he hasn’t even started studying for the test he has in the morning. “but can we talk about this tomorrow? i just left the studio, and i really need to get to studying once i get to the apartment. and there’s no rehearsal tomorrow, so i’ll be able to call-”

“you don’t get it, don’t you? it doesn’t matter that tomorrow you’ll finally be able to call, it’s the fact that i’m always your last priority these days. it fucking hurts, sanghyeok. you’re my number one, and yet i can’t even get a text back from you anymore.” he stops in his tracks, listening to you on the other end of the phone. surely he hasn’t missed that many of your calls. he was almost certain he texted you good morning the second he woke up. he curses under his breath at himself when he looks at his notifications. 2 missed calls. over 10 texts from both yesterday and today, unopened. he must’ve forgotten.

“we aren’t in high school anymore, okay? it shouldn’t be a burden to put in a little bit more effort for someone you love, even if you’re further away now… you always used to send me flowers whenever you missed me, or call me in the middle of the day just to hear my voice. what happened to us?” your sniffles stopped by now, instead being replaced with all of the emotions from the past couple weeks finally being aired out.

“why am i always the one who wakes up at four in the morning every weekend just to spend some time with you? why do i have to be the one to sit and wait for your calls, only to see that you’re busy again? damnit, i just wish i knew you still loved me, sanghyeok.” he can feel his heart drop to the pit of his stomach.

“with all of the mistakes i’ve made / from all the letters that i’ve saved / this is everything i didn’t say / i wish i could’ve made you stay / and i’m the only one to blame / i know that it’s a little too late”

fuck. he’s crying again. he can’t recall how many times he’s reread the love letters you once exchanged in high school. they used to sit in a pretty decorated cardboard box on his desk, but his bedside drawer is their new home; it’s much easier to read them every night when they’re right next to him. he’s extra careful not to get any of his tears on your writing, just in case those are the last letters you’ll ever write for him.

if he had just noticed sooner… if he wasn’t so focused on himself, maybe he would’ve seen how much the person he loved most was hurting, all because of him. sanghyeok almost feels sick thinking about how you kept in your feelings for so long; enduring all the pain in hopes that he would turn things around eventually.

“i hope you know / for you i’d sacrifice / to make this right / some day i’m sure / we’ll pass each other by / until that time…”

and at the end of the night, when sanghyeok’s head hurts from crying for too long, and another tissue box is empty beside him, he goes for a walk. it’s his routine, after all. he’ll walk down the same dim path he walked on the night you two broke up, and he will sit on a bench and look up at the sky through the clearing between the trees. he’s waiting for a shooting star.

...by the time that star comes, he’s already prepared with his wish. he doesn’t even need to think about what he wants most in this world, because he knows the only thing he would wish for is one more chance to make things right with you.

#boynextdoor x reader #bnd x reader #riwoo #boynextdoor riwoo #riwoo x reader #boynextdoor riwoo x reader #kpop fic #boynextdoor writing #boynextdoor fic #boynextdoor imagine #kpop #ᯓᡣ𐭩 my writing #boyfriend imagines #lee riwoo #lee sanghyeok #x reader

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nina-ya · 1 year ago

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Cooking with Law

A/N: Yay first post on this blog! These were supposed to be headcanons but I went a bit overboard whoops. Pairing: Law x GN!reader CW: None WC: 728

Law typically isn't the one in charge of cooking aboard the ship. That duty usually falls on the rest of the crew. However, it's not as though he's completely clueless in the kitchen. He might not be a top-tier chef, but he can hold his own and help others when needed. His infatuation for you has slowly grown over the years, and he can't quite find the way to show you how he feels. When words fail him, he turns to food to express his feelings.

As you go about your business, a whiff of smoke catches your attention. Rushing to the kitchen, you find your usually composed captain locked in a fierce battle between himself and a flaming pan. Suppressing a laugh, you watch Law scramble to extinguish the flames, an unusual display of panic. Once the fire is under control, you make your presence known.

"Having a bit of trouble there, Captain?" you quip, a smirk playing on your lips.

Startled by the sound of your voice, Law jumps and faces you, a poor explanation stumbling out of his mouth as he does so. "Uh, no, no trouble at all. I think the stove might be malfunctioning. We should have it checked out and probably replaced when we reach the next island…" His reddening cheeks betray his wishes to hide his embarrassment at being caught in this moment.

You see through the excuse, and your smile widens as you approach him. "Really? The stove's acting up? Let me take a look." You reach for the stove's knob, but he intervenes.

"Okay, fine, the stove's fine," he concedes with a sigh. "I turned my back for a moment, and it just burst into flames."

You examine the charred remains in the pan. "Yikes, whatever that was supposed to be is beyond saving now. What were you trying to make, anyway?" you ask with a tilt of your head. You lean over and the burnt smell makes your face scrunch up in disgust.

Law notices the face you make "cute…" he thinks to himself. Realizing he is just staring and needs to respond to your question, he mentions a dish you adore, and your eyes light up. "I love that! If you still have some ingredients left, maybe I can assist you?" Your pleading gaze makes it impossible for Law to decline, even if he'd rather retreat to his quarters and forget this moment ever happened.

He grumbles his agreement and quietly starts gathering the ingredients, this time with your assistance. As the initial embarrassment fades, he relaxes and engages in conversations with you throughout the cooking process. You both get to know each other better as you work together The moment is a bit intimate and quite comforting as you two share tidbits of yourselves to each other. As you finish cooking and plate the dish, you grab two forks. Law is confused when you hand him one, but you practically thrust it into his hand.

"What? Did you think you wouldn't get to enjoy this too? We both made it, so it's only fair that we share in the pleasure," you insist.

Muttering an "Oh, okay," he scoops some food with his fork as you do the same. Before he can put the food in his mouth, you have an idea. Leaning in close, you gently grasp his jaw with your free hand, urging his mouth open and feeding him a bite. He's taken aback by the surprisingly intimate gesture and his cheeks flush. He practically short circuits and tries to come up with a response, but when he can't he hesitates until he ultimately leans forward, using his fork to feed you, a small, triumphant smirk forming at the corner of his mouth as he watches you become the flustered one. You two stare at each other, not one of you daring to break the silence of this moment. He is the first to speak up.

"We did a pretty good job, I'd say. What do you think?" he says, savoring the flavors.

You smile and nod at him. "Maybe you should nearly burn the kitchen down more often, just so we can cook together like this again," you suggest playfully. He chuckles and feeds you again, this time without any hesitation in his actions.

"You know what? Maybe I will, just for you…"

#one piece #one piece x reader #trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgardwaterlaw #law x reader

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ky-yk · 1 year ago

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get up (kzh x f!reader)

a sequel to “cool with you (kzh x f!reader)”

genre: fluff || word count: 1k

author’s note: the ending sounds sad but i swear it isn't alright

stop, don’t touch me there! this is, my no-no square!

you jolted awake at the sound of the offending song. heartbeat racing at the thought of possibly missing your first class of the day, you were gearing up to get ready on autopilot with your eyelids still lidded until your brain finally caught up with you:

it’s a saturday.

with a groan and an eye roll, you immediately plopped back down. instead of meeting the mattress beneath you, though, your back instead it the very lithe, very toned arm of your girlfriend, nakamura kazuha.

you shot back up and winced at the contact, face contorting in cringe. yikes, i hope i didn’t wake her up, you thought. you slowly turned around, keeping your eyes closed until you faced the girl, slowly opening your eyes to see whether you’d woken the girl.

thankfully enough, she’s still dead to the world.

with a sigh of relief, you looked around, wondering what you should do now that you were wide awake. soon enough, your eyes wandered down to the sight of a sleeping kazuha.

she’d never looked more at peace: eyes fluttered closed, her long eyelashes sticking out. her face was relaxed, the light streaming in from your windows coloring her in a soft glow that accentuated her long nose bridge, her hair plump lips, and her soft cheeks. she looked so small engulfed in her hoodie.

she looks so beautiful.

“you know i can feel you staring, right?”

breaking out of your lovesick daze, you snapped out of your reverie to see your girlfriend stretching awake and yawning. you tried to laugh it off. “psh, me? staring? you wish,” you playfully scoffed — exaggerated eye roll and everything.

“me when i lie,” she yawns as she reaches up to wrap her arms around your waist, drawing you closer to her lying body. once you’re close enough, she nuzzles herself into your waist, leaving you chuckling at the sight.

“what time is it?” you barely make out what she’s saying, but when you do, you reach over her for your phone.

“9:20,” you read out the time.

“eh?!“ she exclaimed (you still had to exert a little more effort to try to hear her, though). “still so early, y/n-ie,” she whined, hugging you closer and pretty much dragging you to lie back in bed with her.

“that is not early, zuha-chan!” you said exasperatedly, putting your phone down dramatically as you looked at the koala around your waist. “i’d be in my first period class around this time.”

“and we love that for you,” she deadpanned. rolling your eyes, you reached down to take her arms from off your waist.

“what are you doing?” she whined.

“i’ll go make us breakfast, zuha-chan. you can keep resting here, i’ll just bring you your food,” you reasoned out. she just mumbled something you couldn’t bother to make out anymore. you think she’s finally relented once you don’t feel her fighting back, allowing you to quietly get up and go out into the kitchen.

after taking out the ingredients you needed, you now found yourself standing by the stove, waiting for the oil to heat up before you could pour the eggs in.

once the eggs were in, you started moving them around in the pan with your spatula, ensuring that all sides were cooked evenly. you stared at the pan, so intently focused that you started zoning out and working on autopilot.

that was until long and lithe arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you out of your reverie and back into the real world. you felt a chin drop on your shoulder and someone’s front pressing up against your back. your heart began calming down after realizing it was just kazuha and not some stranger who’d magically broken into your house.

relishing in her embrace, a small smile graced your lips as you focused on your cooking. the girl behind you hummed. “smells good, babe,” she commented before nosing at your neck and leaving to set the table. you felt the heat rise up from that spot on your neck all the way up to your ears, and you hoped that if she noticed, she’d just chock it up to the heat from the stove.

the house was quiet, save for the shuffling around of feet, the clinks and clangs of kitchen utensils, the sizzle of the pan, and your soft humming. it was easy.

you and kazuha maneuvered around the kitchen and dining room as if it was a choreographed dance. soon enough, you’d set the food on the dishes she set out and brought them to the dining table while she readied up a glass of water for you both by your plates. you returned to the stove to put your dirty dishes in the sink, and when you turned back around, kazuha was already sat at her place, mindlessly staring at the table while zoning out.

the moment you sat down, you gently knocked on the table to get her attention. she jumped a little bit and blinked once before noticing your easy yet amused smile. she returned your smile with an equally bright yet tired smile, her eyes closing into crescents. you motioned to her food and she nodded in response, leaving you to munch down on your own food.

silence enveloped you both as you peacefully ate your breakfast. once you and kazuha had finished breakfast, you volunteered to bring your dishes to the sink since the girl was back to zoning off. after depositing the dishes, you walked behind the girl and wrapped your arms over her shoulders and rested your weight on the girl.

"penny for your thoughts, zuha-chan?" you mumbled.

"'m just tired," she replied.

rising from your position, you walked around her and made your way over to her lap. she immediately wrapped her arms around your waist as you did the same around her neck. she went back to burying her face in your neck and just stayed there for a while.

you brought the girl closer by cradling her head closer to you while she dragged you closer into her. you sighed. "that beat, zuha-chan? you slept like you were dead last night," you chuckled lightheartedly.

"just wanna stay like this," kazuha mumbled. "too much out there. too loud."

"then we can stay like this."

oh how you wished you could stay like this.

#🐻 — ky writes #le sserafim #girl group imagines #lesserafim imagines #lesserafim x reader #nakamura kazuha #kazuha x reader #lesserafim kazuha

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cantthinkofanameforthis · 7 months ago

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It was tense. Two parties. But seemed that Natasha and Wanda’s were much more popular. Much to Carol’s dismay.

*Natasha and Wanda stand outside the break room and to the cameras*

Natasha: Are we taking this too far? I don’t think we’re taking this far enough.

*Wanda turns to Natasha who also turns to make eye contact*

Natasha: What?

Wanda: I got goosebumps

*Wanda and Natasha’s party was going great. Once Tony, Bruce, Thor and Y/N returned it finally took off.*

*Wanda and Natasha both felt bad for Carol once they saw the dead party in the conference room.*

Natasha: Well the committee to plan parties has served its purpose. We’re gonna disband in the name of Christmas

Wanda: In the name of Nutcracker Christmas

*Wanda holds up a star shaped rice crispy on a stick while Natasha nods.*

*So the two parties merged bringing peace in the office during the holidays.*

*Wanda and Natasha hung out during most the party until Y/N walked up to them. Natasha gives Y/N a peck on the cheek and a hug.*

*Wanda got up and told them she had to check something leaving the couple on their own.*

Natasha: No way

Y/N: What a horrible movie that was

Natasha: And now I get to remember it forever, Thank you.

Y/N: Thank you

*They both embraced as they held a small poster of said horrible movie*

*From reception Wanda watches them, hint of jealousy could be seen in her eyes*

Much later in the conference room Wanda hugs Vision for his gift to her. Y/N watches with sadness in her eyes.

As everyone piles out of the Office, Y/N stops by Wanda’s desk

Y/N: Sorry I forgot to tell you. I intercepted a transmission earlier and it seems that the CIA is gonna need Bucky for training.

Wanda: We should get him a bus ticket, to make his trip easier. It costs $75 dollars.

Y/N: yikes. maybe the CIA could send a helicopter

*They both laugh as Wanda types this out*

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #the office #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader

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hannahssimblr · 8 months ago

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It’s a dreary, drizzly evening that calls for streetlights earlier than usual, their light straining weakly through the thick mist off the bay, and as I glance down at Ivy with droplets of rain beading on the halo of frizz around her plaits I consider the fact that she was right, a jacket wouldn’t have been the worst idea.

The lights are on early at Michelle’s house too, the voile netting over the netting in the living room window not giving anything away inside, just the vague shapes of whatever is on the television.

As always, the door is off the latch, and inside Jen is leaning against the counter by the toaster spinning a butter knife in her fingers. She gives me a wary look when we see each other. “She’s in the living room,” and holds her hand out to Ivy, “Hey Ives, do you wanna hang out with me for a little while? C’mere, oh, who did your hair today? Was it your brother? Yikes, okay let me have a look at this…”

I gingerly push through to the living room, where Michelle is engaged in an intense discussion with both of her parents. She’s slumped on the couch with puffy eyes while they stand with their backs to the fire, glancing at me with alarm as I enter the room wielding a bar of chocolate, which, in hindsight is a bit of a pathetic celebratory or consolation prize.

“Hi.”

“Oh good, Jude,” Rahim beckons me over to the couch to sit with Michelle, and I take her hand, “can you tell her that this is not the end of the world?” He’s saying, voice tinged with impatience, “There are plenty of other opportunities.”

“Zero, huh?” I say gently, and she shakes her head, arm trembling as she passes the letters to me. One, two, three rejections. I read one of them briefly, from Paris.

“‘...unimaginative and containing cliches…’ wow, that feels a bit harsh, doesn’t it? I don’t think they needed to be all like that about it.”

She breaks down in tears, “I’m a terrible artist.”

“No, you aren’t,” I skim through the one from Berlin, “Look, they’ve said here that this year’s application was their strongest in history. Don’t beat yourself up about it.”

“I just feel so stupid.”

“What? No, you’re the furthest thing from stupid.”

“Michelle, there are other options,” Rahim practically pleads, “Why don’t you go back to the application portal before it is too late and put down something more reasonable?”

Debra agrees, “This is what we’ve been saying, Michelle, maybe art is wrong for you. See? You shouldn’t have changed your mind in the first place. There’s a good reason you decided against it-”

“Yeah well I want to do it now, don’t I?” Michelle snarls, swatting tears away from her cheeks, “Jude and I are doing this together, it’s already decided.”

Her mother eyes me warily before deciding that I should probably hear this too, “Love, you know it’s not always a good idea to make big life decisions based on your boyfriend. Nothing lasts forever.”

“How could you say that?”

“What happened to veterinary science, hm? Wouldn’t that be a good career?”

“I wanted to be a vet when I was like, seven, what are you on about?”

“Or she could be a doctor, like me!” Rahim attempts, but this is only met with a fresh barrage of sobs. I rub my girlfriend’s back uselessly while the chocolate softens inside its wrapper against the heat of my leg.

Debra is looking at me empathetically as I comfort her daughter, as though she and I have some connection now, like a baton has passed through some small exclusive club for people who have held Michelle while she cries. “How did you get on with your applications?”

“Oh, um, yeah, I got in,” I feel guilty even saying it but Michelle doesn’t really react to the news, as though she already made an assumption, but I jump in to finish quickly before she can make another. “I won’t be accepting any of them, though, I mean, obviously. I was only ever going to move away if Michelle was coming too, and, you know, unless London works out then that won’t happen.”

Michelle kneads her eye with the heel of her hand, “Did you not get the email?”

“What email?”

“From the London school.”

“Uh, no, I just saw the letters.”

Her eyes widen, “So you didn’t see the NCAD email either?”

“Since when were there emails?”

“Oh my God,” she’s on her feet then, all of her misery forgotten in favour of urgency. “Go and look right now, what the hell?”

“Love,” Debra attempts soothingly, “it’s probably better if Jude checks his emails on his own, isn’t it? The last thing we want is for this to set you off-”

We’re already running for the stairs, her behind me prodding my back the whole way up in a way that feels like she’s forcing me to walk the plank to my untimely death in a tank of piranhas. We burst into her room and she runs to navigate to gmail while I sweat despite the temperature of her room, which is always kind of cold.

I log in and the page loads up to two new emails sitting brazenly in my inbox.

“There they are, click them!”

“Michelle I just want to say that-”

“Oh, come on,” she seizes the mouse and clicks for me, first the one from London, and her voice is flat, “They accepted you. No surprises.”

“It doesn’t matter though, does it? If they didn’t accept you too then I’m not going.”

“Mm.” She immediately clicks the next one, from NCAD, “It’s just points,” she mutters in explanation, “So it all depends on our leaving cert,” scrolling, she reaches the bottom of the email where my points sit, undeniable in a bold black font against stark white.

I feel her stiffen. “One thousand?”

“Uh, wow, is that good?”

There is a long pause. “Jude, that’s literally maximum points.”

I can’t bring myself to look at her right away, but I feel her eyes on the side of my face, searing holes through my skin.

“I thought your interview went badly.”

“Yeah me too!”

“Well then-” she breaks off to make some noise that’s somewhere between a scoff and a sob, “then how did you get such ludicrously high points?”

“Like what I said, I suppose. They were arseholes to everyone on purpose,” I spin around to her, “What did you get?”

“Four fifty.”

So I grab hold of her hands and hold her very tightly and very still, I want to seem sure, “No matter what happens, we’ll be okay,” I promise, “Even if none of this works out for you, I’ll still be right here, do you hear me?”

She nods.

“I’m not going anywhere without you. God, I mean, why would I even do that? You’ll get NCAD off the back of your leaving cert points, I’m one hundred percent sure. And... even if you don't, I'll stay in Dublin.” As soon as I say it I start feeling nauseated, and dizzy, a bit heady like I’ve inhaled some miscellaneous gas from the science lab, but I fight through it, “fuck all of those stupid plans for going abroad, right? I’m here.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

“Okay, c’mere,” I pull her into me and hold her tightly, taking in the smell of her hair, the way her narrow shoulders, her birdlike frame softens in my arms and accept that this is the comfort I will rely on from now on. True, it’s not always easy with Michelle, but we really do love each other. Sometimes love is work, but love is rare and worth holding onto with both hands and your whole heart. All those plans I had, I think, they were misguided, a youthful mistake. Perhaps at some point in the future I can move to Amsterdam, or Paris, or Berlin, or London, and do something creative and exciting, but not now. That’s what I’ll do in ten years, when everything is different. I’ll make sure to tell Sam.

Who did I think I was, really, trying to do all of that at eighteen? Now is for this, for Michelle. For doing something right.

“I love you,” she says, and I wonder, with her cheek resting against my chest, if she can somehow hear the way my heart tightens as though grasped by a fist, or how my breath catches in my throat when she says it. I’m surprised by the rising feeling that I might start crying, but I force it down.

Crying over what, Jude? I sneer at myself.

Yeah, that’s what I thought. Something stupid, as usual.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #i haaaaaate this omg #come on Jude #just make a good choice please

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awesome-opossum-after-hours · 28 days ago

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Chapter 4 of "You Can Be Happy Later" on ao3

hey guys!!! so this chapter takes us on a bit of a flashback, so it would take place directly after Part 2 of the show.

it's a bit shorter than the others, but I wanted to give a quick look into Brett and find a proper way to set up his feelings. because let's face it, this man disliked Ron bc he was jealous. we all know it lolll

I was really proud of this one so I decided to post it on here as a standalone as well. if this is your first exposure to this fic, please check it out from the beginning and let me know what you think!

Six Months Ago…

When Reagan had returned to her lab, after Brett had believed he had lost his best friend for good, he had never felt more relieved. Throughout the entire debacle with Air Bud, she was still always on his mind. Brett was preparing himself for when the dopamine of their mission wore off, and he would have to go back to a cold and empty lab. His best friend- one whose walls he had spent almost a year breaking through- would now have no memory of him whatsoever. But she would be happy, blissfully distant from the Deep State and living a quiet life with her true love.

But Brett loved her.

He had only recently realized that this love was beyond platonic. Brett wasn’t sure when this friendship had morphed into these feelings, but it had finally dawned on him when he actually felt dislike towards Ron: something Brett Hand had usually reserved for dog haters, people who litter, and any of the bad “-ists” (we all know the ones.). And the only thing Staedler had done to cause this dislike was date Reagan. Brett knew this was wrong- stupid and selfish, but he couldn’t help it! Then, he saw just how proud Reagan was to call Staedler her boyfriend, and how much she really loved him.

Brett was happy seeing Reagan happy. So he pushed these feelings as deep down as the deep state. After her and Ron’s breakup, it wasn’t right for him to let his crush resurface too much. Instead, Brett went back to his main mission: Reagan Ridley’s happiness. He first tried using techniques he learned from therapy. Reagan needed a healthy release of her feelings, so Brett made it persistently clear that he was there to listen!

She was a tough nut to crack. As per usual, Reagan’s response to “talking about her feelings” was brushing off the situation. She was “doing perfectly fine”, and didn’t “really have anything to talk about, ya know?”. So, he took a step back from this strategy and the two had their first “Family Dinner” movie night again since the whole fiasco.

“La La Land…” Reagan scoped out the BluRay DVD that Brett had brought over. “What’s this one even about again?”

“Honestly, not totally sure!” Brett slid the DVD into the TV’s disc slot, then sat back on Reagan’s couch. She handed him a bowl of white cheddar popcorn (his favorite, she knew!). “I know it’s a musical though, with lots of dancing and bright, fun scenes! Should be great for a much-needed night of fun, Reags!”

**An hour and a half later…**

“You’ve gotta give it everything you’ve got. Everything. It’s your dream.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I’m gonna follow my own path, you know? Stay here, get my own thing going.”

Yikes… Brett was kicking himself, for sure. Of all the choices… of COURSE he picked a movie with doomed lovers who could’ve never both gotten their happy ending! Dammit brightly colored musical numbers he saw clips of on social media!!

“... I’m always gonna love you…”

Ohhhh god. Brett fidgeted nervously with his sleeve. He glanced over at Reagan, who was staring silently and wide-eyed at the screen. Even in the dim light, he could see her shaky breaths as she began to blink away tears. Brett paused the movie, turning to face his best friend.

“Reags… you okay?”

Suddenly, Reagan dove to him, burying her face in Brett’s shirt as she finally let herself cry. Not just a small, delicate cry- full-on sobs broke from Reagan like a river rushing through open floodgates. Brett was quick to return the hug, soft and secure, while he rubbed comforting circles on her back. Reagan’s small frame shook with the sheer force of her emotions, but Brett held her like a lifeline.

“It’s gonna be okay, Reagan. I promise”.

Reagan sniffled. “What if it’s not?” She choked out through her tears. “What we had… * sniff *... what if nobody loves me like that again??” She hugged him tighter.

Brett’s heart ached. He wanted to tell her just how much he loved her. How he’s willing to give her the world. But saying that now wouldn’t be fair- she didn’t need that. What Reagan needed right now was a friend. “Reagan…” he whispered to her. “You’ll find that again, I know it. You’re incredible, you’re strong, you’re so smart- any guy would be lucky to have you. But for right now, it’s okay to hurt. I’ll always be your shoulder to cry on, Reags.”

She didn’t say anything, but continued to bury her head against his chest. He was more than okay with that. Brett held his best friend tight until her sobs turned to shaky breaths, which slowed into sleep. Eventually, he carefully maneuvered Reagan into his arms and carried her to her bedroom. She managed to stay in deep sleep, almost as if it was the best rest she had gotten in weeks (which he knew it probably was). Brett placed Reagan gently down on her bed and draped her covers over her sleeping body. He quickly slipped downstairs to turn off the TV and fill up a cup with water, then back upstairs to place the cup on Reagan’s nearby nightstand. He also managed to plug in her phone, setting it down on the opposite side of the small table as the cup.

As Brett was walking through the doorway out of Reagan’s bedroom, before shutting the lights off, he turned to get one last look at his best friend. Releasing a week’s worth of pent-up tears all at once had wiped her, and she was practically dead to the world.

Brett gazed at her with a soft, sad smile. “Love ya, Reagan. Get some sleep, alright?”

#inside job fic #inside job #reagan ridley #brett hand #breagan #inside job breagan #angst #fanfic #ao3

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hannahwatcheshorror · 2 months ago

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CHILD'S PLAY (1988)

💁‍♀️Strong Female Lead

A classic film about a scary thought, “What if my doll were alive?” Chucky is the original ANNABELLE (well, that isn’t entirely true) and masters the cute to creepy transition in seconds flat. No time is wasted showing you how the doll comes to life, it just takes a moment for him to belong to someone and for the killings to begin. Nicely paced and well acted with very nice effects especially for the main man himself. Should encourage you to be a little nicer to those “inanimate” objects around you.

⭐⭐⭐.5

(trigger warning sexual aggression/violence against a woman)

Charles Lee Ray, a serial killer, is about to die in a toy store when he says Abracadabra (by The Steve Miller Band) over a little ginger doll (since it has no soul) and puts his soul in it with voodoo (wack). A nice lady buys the “doll” for her son's birthday and gives it to her little brat (nah, he is a cutie) and doesn’t realize what hell will soon be breaking loose. The aunt is babysitting but she won't be there long because Andy has a new best friend in Chucky the doll and the doll wants to play. Death by toy hammer to the face then dramatically falling out a window is weak as hell though, I just gotta say, Aunt Maggie.

Karen comes home to find her babysitter dead and her son blaming it on the doll (yeah, right, kid) to which she says, “Yeah, right, kid, tell me the truth.” The detective is wary and thinks the kid killed the aunt which is so fucking funny, I just have to say, this kid is such a small little baby who is so confused and he certainly didn’t kill a bitch. ANYWAY. Things keep escalating when Chucky makes Andy skip school and visit his old accomplice's house to blow the place up (with the dude inside). Now Andy is sent to the nuthouse because he says Chucky is alive and no one believes him! Chucky goes on a side quest and finds out his only shot at being human again is to become Andy (yikes).

Distraught about her son in a psych ward, Karen goes home with the doll and commands it to talk to her. Fucker doesn’t listen so she threatens to burn him over the fire, that gets him talking. Now she knows her son isn’t a liar. Ms. Barclay makes our detective listen to her by putting herself in danger and damn it if that doesn’t make me fall in love with her. We love a woman who will recklessly go after a mad man (or doll) because of their kid. Chucky goes after the detective who barely makes it out alive but now at least he believes.

Andy is locked up in the psych ward still and sees a spritely little Chucky parkour his way up the steps and into the hospital on his way up to get Andy. The doctors think the kid is off his nut and you feel this sense of helplessness for him because we know he is telling the truth! Poor little Andy even has to watch a guy get electroshock therapy to death which I'm sure won’t scar him for life (it will). After narrowly avoiding capture at the hospital, Andy goes home to try and wait out his best fiend.

Like an unfriendly Santa, guess who comes down the chimney? None other than Chucky in the flesh, I mean, plastic. Chucky decks the kid in the head with a fucking baseball bat like it’s no big deal. UM. WACK. (Ha) He attempts to start the ritual but Mom and the detective come back in the nick of time. After a little more bat whacking on the detective, Chucky gets the Freddie Lounds special (a full fire cleansing) which STILL isn’t enough for this evil bastard. They have to shoot him in the heart and he barely goes down then. They are all safe (for now).

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twolitwicksinatrenchcoat · 8 months ago

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wowza this was supposed to be like a paragraph long yikes anyways A lil story using @justmwahstruly zombie WH au, because our ocs kiss kiss fell in love/j. This is better read with some context so check out Mwah's post, here! Also I don't write at all so don't mind all the mistakes -🕯 tw:: small description of violence

Molly had a tough day at work, an annoying group of teenage customers, near the end of her shift, who didn't seem to understand the difference between sentient zombies, and feral zombies ready to bite and attack. They weren't even quiet about their opinion, loudly talking and side eyeing the diner staff, only shutting up when the staff came near, despite the fact that the staff could clearly hear them from behind the counter. Molly was irked that she even had to serve these people, but she had a job to do and she did it well. Despite this the group sneered at the food saying it was disgusting. That was a total lie, Julie/Howdy was a great cook, for both the living and the undead.

It's fine though. Because this was the last few minutes of her shift and she was off after this, she could cool down and take a break. Yet despite this, she clocked out finding herself unable to stop thinking about the insensitive group, who seemed to belittle the people who lost so much against their will due to the outbreak. Perhaps it was just muscle memory that led her to Flint's apartment, too zoned out to even register Flint letting her in, nor the fact that he was leading her into his home, his hand in hers. Flint saw quite easily that she was upset.

And what followed next was an accident, a mistake, whatever you'd like to call it. Molly hadn't been able to stop thinking about the stupid act of discrimination and her emotions got the best of her. It was just for a few minutes, just a few simple minutes that Molly had gone feral. She didn't register Flint as a person she was close to, instead he was just a target at that point I suppose. Her nails dig into Flint's pale flesh, dragging down and leaving deep scratches. Maybe he should have left Molly alone, he has seen she was some sort of upset, maybe wanted to be left alone. Unfortunately Flint was not that kind of person. When Molly "came back to" she had enthusiastically greeted Flint, not even questioning how she made it to his apartment. And he hadn't meant to do it, yet he really couldn't help it. When Molly reached out to him he flinched back, panicked eyes flickering over Molly's figure.

It took Molly a few seconds to realize what had happened. Even longer for Flint to calm down and realize Molly was no longer feral. Yet the fear still lingered, something Flint despised. Both felt horrible, and both had left things unsettled that day as Molly had excused herself, saying she had something to deal with. The strange awkwardness went on for the rest of the week, Flint's appearance at the diner started to slow, and Molly had not stepped a foot into Flint's housing department again since that day.

Flint missed Molly, wanted to tell her it was okay. Things happen, he worked with kids, had his unfortunate fair share of sentients going feral. He understood it just couldn't be stopped sometimes, and he could never hold it against Molly. When he had tried to grab Molly's hand she snatched it back, eyes glancing at the nearly healed scratch marks on Flint's face. Was she scared of hurting him again? With a sharp inhale Flint grabbed Molly's hands with his own shaky hands. His grip careful as he led Molly's hands to his cheeks, even like this he leaned into her touch. He still trusted her, this time there was no slight tremble in his face, instead it was replaced by a steady stare and he fumbled over his words, trying to assure Molly that it was okay, that he's safe and he never blamed her, and his fear had just got the best of him at the moment.

#molly melancholy #welcome home oc #welcome home au #wh zombie au #Flint fisher #art #writting #new writter #short story #oc art #but like seriously #he makes great stuff🍽#w1ck yaps🕯

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total-drama-takes-takes-2 · 1 year ago

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celebrity manhunt

Inside a small studio, a large desk wraps around two seats, an orange striped background and TV monitor decorating the set behind them. In one seat, a tight-faced, full-lipped gentleman with stark black hair holds a bouquet of cue cards. Next to him, a tight-faced redhead in a blue dress is holding a clearly empty mug.

“It’s a beautiful night here in Toronto, perfect temperature for the TV event of the season- that’s right, everyone- it’s time for the Gemmy’s!”

The gentleman fixes his bowtie. “We’re reporting live, just a block away from the action- it’s your faves, Josh-”

“And Blaineley!” the ginger cuts in. “Welcome to a very special episode of Celebrity Manhunt! Tonight is the night, folks- it’s time for gossip, cheer, and chatter about this year’s nominees!”

“Who will be taking home the gold? Stay tuned to find out!”

“Josh, that was my line,” Blaineley hisses. He rolls his eyes.

“In only half an hour, our field reporters will be walking the red carpet with this season’s celebrity stars- until then, let’s catch up with the juiciest gossip from the past year,” Josh grins. “With a special focus on our personal faves, and the audience choice’s- the Total Takes Island cast!”

“Those teens braved it all on the newly-resurfaced Wawanakwa island, competing in death-defying challenges and looking fly while doing it!” Blaineley squeals. “Just to come back for another season of screams, screams, and crazy teens on the set of Total Takes Action!”

“Those are some brave contract holders, especially after watching what happened to the other casts,” John winks. “And like our blasts from the past, these teens have scored a nomination in the category for Best Reality Ensemble.”

“Let’s cross our fingers for them this time, Josh,” Blaineley chuckles. Her smile seems forced. “But before then, let’s catch our audience up to speed with everything that’s happened since Total Takes Action closed its doors- or should I say, gates?”

"Sure thing, Blain- from breakups to makeups to arrest records and more, our stars have had a lot going on for them!" Josh grins. "O has been living the high life back home, but not before starting an advocacy group for those who were negatively affected by the psychiatric healthcare system. Peter was spotted giving a promise ring to his girlfriend, Lois- still going strong! And Kitty's been banned from at least eight national parks in the United States so far,"

"Speaking of spectacles, let’s talk about Alistair’s award-winning performance as Disco Horatio in the viral Broadway musical 70’s Hamlet, a pop-infused retelling of the classic play,”

“Alistair’s performance was so good that he even found himself a brand new fanbase of Hamlet-crazed fangirls- some of which have been taking things a little too far,”

An image of Alistair’s character in a Miku binder fixes itself on screen. It's been autographed.

“Yikes- but hey, if he's owning it, then more power to him! Next up, we're talking about the pop sensation band that’s been on everyone’s minds- that’s right, guys, we’re talking the Takes Three trio!”

Blaineley grins as a sequence of images of McLovin, Sha-Mod, and Joner starts overlaying the screen. “Our Total Takes faves shocked the world when they released their first album, Boi Tearz, to widespread critical acclaim,”

“The rap-swing-darkwave fusion has been called “surprisingly tolerable” by critics, leading the Takes Three to their own claim to fame outside of reality TV. Make sure to stay tuned, because we'll have them right here after the break!”

---

The Celebrity Manhunt logo flashes across screen and then fades as the studio comes into focus. McLovin, Sha-Mod, and Joner are all sitting beside each other at the end of the table, wearing matching outfits.

"Takes Three- you've been called international pop sensations by at least six Twitter users. How do you respond?"

"We're just grateful for our fans," Joner says, shrugging. "Making music for the world to enjoy is a rite of passage where I'm from."

Blaineley blinks. "The Midwest?"

"Yeah, it's been crazy. We've been signing all kinds of notepads!" Sha-Mod nods. "Big ones, little ones, ones shaped like circles..."

"I didn't even know you could make circle paper," McLovin shakes his head. "Our tour has been world-changing."

"Eye-opening," Sha-Mod agrees. "And to thank you for inviting us on the show, we wrote a song for you. Ready, guys?"

All three reach under their chairs and pull out three sets of bongos. They look between each other.

"I though I was bringing the bongos," McLovin says.

"No, you were bringing the synthesizer. I was bringing the bongos!" Joner responds.

"I thought you were taking the triangle!"

Blaineley and Josh look at each other, then back to the trio.

“So, boys, how has skyrocketing to commercial and financial success affected your bonds on a scale from “a lot” to “IMPOSSIBLE to ignore!”?” Blaineley asks, grinning widely. The three stop bickering and immediately turn to her.

“You know, we’re actually closer than ever,” McLovin states, matter-of-factly. “Our music is a really hands-on creative process.”

“Yeah, can’t have rap-swing-darkwave without the swing!” Sha-Mod smiles, setting down the bongos. "Or the rap- or the darkwave!"

Joner nods. “It's been chill. Our new album-”

“BORING!” Blaineley shouts, pulling a lever behind her. The floor under the three musicians disappears and they scream as they disappear. "All I heard there was "blah blah blah" let's get to the real juicy gossip, shall we? It looks like it’s finally splitsville for Patjulia.”

Josh chuckles. “Oh, yes, after months of vicious dating, our sources indicate that those villains-to-be have finally called it quits- and publicly, at that. Our undercover reporters came across this juicy little tidbit. Roll the tape!”

---

The monitor fizzles to life and focuses on the inside of a restaurant that looks like a tornado went through it. A chair flies across the screen and the camera whirls around to one side of the room, where Julia is screaming and throwing furniture.

“I should’ve NEVER even TALKED to you!”

The camera pans around to the other side of the room, where Patrick throws a handful of spaghetti back. “You should be HONORED I gave you the time of the day!”

“Your hair looks like a dead rat got glued to your head!”

“That’s rich, coming from a fake blonde!”

“IT’S NOT FAKE! We are so over!”

“You’re not breaking up with me! I’m breaking up with you!”

Julia throws a table and it sends Patrick flying across the room and straight out the back wall, creating a him-shaped hole in the plaster. He screams one final "YAHHH OH HOO HOOEY!!" as he goes flying.

---

“Yikes,” Josh chuckles. “That’s gonna leave a mark!”

“Where’s Scruffy during all this, you may ask? Well, they’re busy interning for Sierra of Reality, Weekly!” Blaineley announces.

An image of Scruffy wearing a pair of sunglasses and an earpiece, walking beside a woman with dark brown hair in her 30s flashes across the screen.

"What an upgrade from Total Takes, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh absolutely- especially after Wawanakwagate,"

Blaineley nods. "But, speaking of relationships- Bonsar- to date or not to date?”

Josh grins. “That IS the question! The two best friends were seen holding hands downtown, sending fans WILD! In a recent press statement, Caesar did little to calm the masses,”

---

The monitor changes scenes to a press conference. Standing before a crowd of reporters and microphones, Caesar adjusts his bow tie and clears his throat while Bonnie is sitting on the stage, playing on their Switch.

“I just want to restate that Bonnie and I are under no obligation to explain anything to the press,”

A reporter waves his hand. “So are you dating or not?”

Caesar smacks his forehead.

---

"Looks like trouble in paradise to me, Blain!"

"You said it, Josh! You know who's been sailing on smooth seas lately, though? Maxchela!"

"OMG, totally! Fans are still swooning over Max and Michela after they were named Reality couple of the year by Reality, Weekly,"

“Unfortunately, we here at Celebrity Manhunt were unable to reach the two for comment. Luckily, our star reporter under the pseudonym “Noco”, was able to get the inside scoop!” Blaineley smiles.

The camera pans over to Noco, who’s half-shadowed to protect his identity. He clears his throat. “I just want to say, first of all, that my findings have reliable and true evidence behind them,”

He stands and pulls a poster down behind him- revealing a screen covered in images of Max and Julia with strings between them. “Let’s say, hypothetically, that Maxchela was staged,”

The light above him suddenly flickers on. He sighs.

“OOOKAY THEN!” Blaineley says, redirecting the camera back over to her. “More on that later! In the meantime, we have a very special guest joining us today- one you Canadian viewers at home might recognize right away as the household name of the month!"

Josh grins. “When Chris McLean’s arrest became an international media sensation, sparking thousands of internet “memes” after his mugshot went viral, there was one name to take the claim to fame,”

“Toronto Environmental Coalition’s own leader, Albert, led an independent investigation of Wawanakwa after former contestant Scary came forward with a case- but it was him who found evidence of illegal radioactive materials on the island,” Blaineley continues, images of the investigation flashing across the screen. "The case brought international attention to the Coalition, and to Albert himself."

“The scandal broke the Wawanakwa mystery wide open. Here with us today is Canada's sweetheart, Albert,”

The camera zooms out and reveals a third person at the table. Albert- a teenage boy with dark brown hair, wearing a gray windbreaker- adjusts his lav mic and then smiles awkwardly.

“So, Albert- since your case went viral, you’ve been called a top-notch advocate, a genius, even a national hero. How does it feel to be getting all this attention?”

He thinks for a moment. “Um… well, I suppose at the end of the day the only thing that matters is the coalition, and the attention has drawn in a lot of donations!”

“Yeah, whatever,” Blaineley chuckles. “You’re the star of an international scandal- you’re a hero! How does it feel?”

“Uh… fine. I guess. What I’d really prefer talking about is the monthly agenda for the TEC, we’re planning on hosting a protest at a meat processing plant in-”

Josh clears his throat. “Our sources indicate that you and Scary were an item at one point. Is this true?”

Albert goes pale. “I- um, no comment, thank you,” he then leans in to whisper. “I thought we were going to be talking about the coalition.”

“On this show? No chance!” Blaineley shouts, startling him and sending him flying backwards. “Celebrity Manhunt is about the drama, drama, drama!”

Albert cringes. “Is there anything else we can talk about, then?”

"We can talk about the juicy, juicy drama happening on the red carpet right now," Blaineley chuckles. "Looks like the first of the cast has arrived to the Poultry Pals sponsored Gemmy's!"

Albert holds up a finger. "Um- what was that last part? The sponsor?"

Josh leans in, his palm against his face. He whispers. "Since ratings have gone down, award shows have corporate sponsors now. Turns out the meat industry is bananas for awards!"

"That's- that's the business I'm supposed to be protesting," Albert stands. "I have to go!"

He runs out of the room, and Blaineley rolls her eyes. "Guess we know why Chris McLean was acquitted and found innocent, huh?"

Josh chuckles. "That we do, Blain. That we do. But let's talk about these red carpet looks, cause honey these contestants are serving!"

---

The red carpet outside the Gemmy's is surrounded by shouting fans and photographers. O waves as he walks inside the building, followed shortly by Alistair, then McLovin, both so preoccupied with waving to the crowd that they crash into each other.

Another limo pulls up on the scene and Peter steps out with a short ginger. She shows off her promise ring to the paparazzi and giggles.

Peter and Alistair fistbump as they reach the door.

"Aw, how sweet. Friends forever!" Blaineley's voice overlays the scene.

"It's nice to see those teens getting along," Josh adds. "Ope- and there's Scary, just released from the lead prison she was stuck in from radioactivity!"

Scary arrives next, her hair dyed a warm honey brown. She makes a show of coughing and wheezing as he exits his limo in a wheelchair, then rolls up the carpet.

"My, my, aren't they looking just proper?" Blaineley tsks. "I love that shade of brown on her!"

A photographer gets too close with his camera and Scary stands, beating him over the head with her wheelchair, before sitting back down in it and rolling indoors.

"What a stellar start to the most anticipated award season EV-AR!" Josh squeals. "Let's check in with Noco on the field."

---

“Reporting live from… wherever I am,” Noco says, squinting. He’s holding a microphone and looking around, slightly annoyed. The cast looks relatively tame, most just merrily chatting with each other. “Here's, uh, I don't know. Austin or whatever. Hey, Austin, you and Kelly get back together?"

"No, baby, I've been single and free! To hell with monogamy!" Austin shouts, flipping on a pair on sunglasses, tearing off his shirt and running off screaming.

Noco stares into the camera. “Now can I do my Maxulia bit?”

“Um. No,” Blaineley says, still in the studio. “What is UP with these drama-less hacks?! Someone get Ass and Courtney here, pronto!”

Noco rolls his eyes and walks down the carpet, approaching Courtney, who’s catching up with Bonnie. “Comment?” Noco asks.

“Hm?” Courtney turns, then blinks. “Um, comment on what?”

“Ass,”

“Ugh. None, thank you!”

“I heard that!” Ass shouts from across the carpet. Courtney rolls their eyes.

Staci and Mal walk down the carpet next to each other, arguing about welding. Noco sighs. “Now can I-”

“NO!” Blaineley and Josh yell in unison.

Michela, walking alongside Max, stops suddenly and puts her hands on her hips. “Does this venue feel a little empty to anyone else?”

The camera zooms out- the group is on a carpet, but there's no reporters, no photographers, no fans to be seen.

“No, I see what you mean. I was thinking there’d be more… I don’t know, people,” Max says, then sighs.

“Did we get the right address?” Scruffy asks. “I mean, we’re all here, so we got sent the same e-vite, right?”

Mal pulls out her phone and reads intently. “Yep. This is the place,”

Another limo pulls up and Julia and Patrick stumble out, shouting at each other and having a slap-fight.

Joner and Sha-Mod look between each other. "Hey," the latter says. "Did we lose McLovin?"

Kelly walks up to the two and puts their hand right above their eyes, shielding their vision from the fluorescent lighting. "I don't see him,"

"Who else are we missing?" Michela asks. But before anyone can do a head count, a voice rings out from the distance.

"WAIT! WAIT! DON'T GO IN YET!" it shouts. The crowd turns in the direction it's coming from and Albert runs up, then collapses on the carpet, wheezing. "Don't go in..." he coughs. "Protest..."

"What's this supposed to be?" Ass asks, putting their hands on their hips.

Albert takes a moment to compose himself, then stands. He dusts off his windbreaker and pants, then pulls a small card out of his pocket. It reads "TEC Charter: LEADER".

"My name is Albert, and I am condemning this award show on behalf of the Toronto Environmental Coalition!"

"What award show, Einstein?" Ass snaps. "There's nothing out here!"

Albert looks around. Nothing but crickets. "Oh,"

Bonnie sighs and walks past him, approaching the doors of the supposed venue. “Let me guess-” they open one and the entire front of the building collapses. "Yep. Thought as much,"

“It’s CARDBOARD?!” Caesar shouts. “My hair took FOUR HOURS to do!”

“This has got to be some kind of Chris thing,” Staci says, crossing her arms. “Maybe it’s a scavenger hunt.”

“Oh, no, no way. I am not playing these little games again,” Ass says. “I’m going home.”

“Hey, everyone, we're still missing people,” Kelly says.

Austin pops out of nowhere. “Yeah, baby, where’s the rest of the party at?”

Courtney does a quick headcount, then thinks for a moment. "I don't see O, Scary, Kitty, McLovin, Alistair, or Peter,"

"Kitty's in an Australian prison," Patrick says nonchalantly. Everyone turns to him. "What?"

"Never mind that. We need to figure out what's going on," Michela says, hands on her hips again.

Mal chuckles from across the carpet. "Guys, you should see this,"

The crowd hesitantly approaches her, peering over her shoulder to see a live broadcast of the Gemmy's on her phone.

"And the award for Best Reality Ensemble goes to... the teens of Total Takes!" the announcer shouts.

Peter, O, McLovin, and Alistair look nervously around their seats, as if trying to catch a glimpse of where everyone else disappeared to.

"Oh, crap," Julia sighs. "We got sent the wrong damn address."

"Are you guys watching the Gemmy's?" a voice from ahead pipes up. The crowd diverts their attention from Mal's phone to see a scrawny boy standing on the street in front of them, drinking a slurpee loudly. "Cause it's a total hack. It's rigged by the woke police."

"Who are you?" Ass asks, crossing their arms.

"I'm Phillip, but you can call me Alejandro," he says confidently. "I was just out training, to fight SJWs. You know how it is."

He does a few karate punches. No one seems very impressed.

"Do you know where the Gemmy's are?" Courtney chimes in.

"Oh, yeah. They're way across town. They're wrapping up soon, anyway, you shouldn't bother with them. Everything comes to an end, after all,"

"Ooookay," Michela says. Max rolls his eyes.

"Do you guys ever think about how red slurpees make your mouth look like you've been drinking blood... heh... just me, then... I have a twisted mind,"

"Am I dead?" Ass turns to Courtney. "Did I die and go to hell?"

"Enough whining. I'm going home," Bonnie snaps.

"NOT so fast!" A voice shouts. The sound of a helicopter hanging overhead makes everyone jump and turn skywards. Chris McLean pilots the aircraft, making a smooth landing in front of the teens (but not before sending Phillip and Austin flying in the wind).

The disgraced host steps out of his helicopter, grinning. "You teens have a contract to uphold!"

"What is going on?" Caesar demands. "This wasn't in my contract!"

"Oh, right. You're "exempt" because of your "lawsuit"," Chris air quotes, rolling his eyes. "Bonnie, on the other hand..."

Caesar pales. Bonnie chimes in. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about a brand-spanking-new season of Total Takes- that's right- we're doing TOTAL TAKES: WORLD TOUR!"

No one makes any noise besides Scruffy, who squeals in delight.

"Thank you. Glad to see someone's excited,"

"Okay, let me get this straight," Julia starts. "You lie to us about the Gemmy's location, drag us to the middle of nowhere in Toronto, make us hang out with these freaks-" she gestures to Albert and Phillip. "And Now you're saying we have to do ANOTHER SEASON?"

"Man, you guys need better lawyers," Chris chuckles. "You have a long, long few weeks coming for ya."

The teens look between each other nervously.

"And not only you- as your contract dictates, any and all at the time of casting are required to join- that means you," Chris points to Albert. "And you," he points to Phillip, plastered against a nearby wall.

"You cannot be serious," Ass says. "I want to talk to your lawyers!"

"No can do, buddy. This is set in stone. See you all soon!"

He chuckles as he gets back into his helicopter and starts off, leaving the cast abandoned. They look at each other one last time before the screen fades to black.

#total takes action #total takes world tour #tta #ttwt #celebrity manhunt

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ill-written-god · 1 year ago

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T | 1426 | m/femnb? human/monster from under the bed | horror elements | single dad trope my beloved, kid shenanigans, domestic fluff, established relationship, how does it feel to hide from your kid that you're dating the monster from under his bed, Ed?

"There's something under my bed."

"Where? Between the dinosaur collection and the Lego boxes?"

The child, his very own precious offspring, glared at him. But his tiny fist was gripping a flashlight in a trembling grip.

"There's no place left for a monster there, little man."

"What if it's like, a ghost and can pass through them?"

That means it could also pass through the mattress, but that's not something you tell your preschool kid.

"What's a ghost, Timothy?"

The boy frowned.

“A dead person?”

And while diverting it into a talk about death was tempting, he wanted his kid to actually sleep tonight.

“Why do you think a dead person would be under your bed?”

How a five-year-old could sigh with so much anger was beyond him, but the boy stomped towards the kitchen table, sitting on his favourite chair perpendicular to his dad.

“I don’t know!” he admitted, slamming the flashlight, now off, onto the counter. “Maybe it’s lonely and wants me dead too. So he has a ghost friend?” he wondered, pouting and, yikes. Dad winced at the sound of his son talking so casually about being dead. About a ghost under his bed wanting to kill him. Which, he knew for a fact wasn’t possible. But instead of telling him that, he sighed and offered:

“Boys sleepover?”

The grin his son gave him was enough to settle the pain of postponing his plans again.

He closed off the tabs on his laptop, the spreadsheets and email drafts (preschool research was no joke) and hovered over the multitude of streaming apps he had installed.

“What do you feel like watching?”

The kid hummed in thought, tapping his chubby fingers against the table.

“Bugs Bunny?”

“Good choice,” he nodded appreciatively, opening the app he knew had The Looney Tunes. Was he using his kid to revisit the nostalgia of his childhood? Totally.

He let Timothy arrange a bed for him on the floor while he made them some chamomile tea, plain for himself and with some honey for his kid. The set-up was familiar for them as the boy was still adjusting to having his own room - there was a folded mattress he used as a chair during the day and at night would often be used by his dad to sleep. The laptop stand was balanced on his bed and his dad’s head was resting just against his little thigh. They were sipping on their teas, with Timothy’s in a special straw bottle that would prevent any spillage in case he dozed off mid-seance. Dad learned it the hard way.

And like each time, the boy was too preoccupied to see his dad’s hand slipping under his bed, between all the toys and Lego sets, palm up and waiting until the darkness entwined their fingers and squeezed gently. It liked Looney Tunes too.

“There’s a monster in the basement.”

I know.

“Well, it better start paying rent, then.”

“Dad!”

“What? You want a freeloader in our house, Timothy?”

“No, of course not,” he said, even though he had no idea who a freeloader was.

“We should write a contract too. In case of damages.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully.

“Damages?” The boy's eyes went wide.

“Yeah,” the dad nodded. “When someone rents a place like we did, they sign a lease promising to pay for any damages they might do to the place. Usually, they pay extra money to the owner with the first rent. The owner uses it to fix the things they break unless everything is okay, then they can have the money back,” he explained.

Timothy nodded, small forehead scrunched in his rendition of an adult face.

“Makes sense.”

He thought that was it and went back to working on dinner, but then Timothy spoke up again.

“Did you ever break something you had to pay for?”

Dad hummed in thought.

“Yeah, when I was in college, me and my roommate broke a shower stall. Like, the glass door? Had to take an extra job to pay for a replacement."

"How did you do that?"

He winced, remembering the mild concussion and the bruises.

"I slipped and slammed into it. The door fell out of its frame and broke in half."

"You didn't have a bathroom mat?"

Dad smiled, knowing his safety lessons were engraved in his son's head.

"No, I wasn't as smart as you are now."

His son puffed out his chest, happy with the praise.

And so, the basement monster went forgotten until after dinner, when Timothy laid a piece of paper and a pen in front of him.

"We should write the contract. For the basement monster," he clarified at his father's puzzled gaze. He quickly nodded.

“Yeah, that’s smart.”

“How do we start?” his son asks curiously, climbing into his lap and peering into the blank sheet. His dad hummed.

“Let’s see… Lease agreement, we need a heading, between Ed and Timothy Sandsmith,” he drawled as he wrote. “And the basement- I think ‘monster’ isn’t a nice word, you know?”

Timothy frowned.

“How so?”

“Well, if we describe a human as a monster, it means it’s a bad person. Maybe we should use a different word.”

He could see Timothy’s frown as he tried his hardest to come up with a way to address their monster in a friendly way.

“Neighbour?” he offered hesitantly.

“Basement neighbour,” Ed tried and nodded in approval. “That will work, yeah. So… The basement neighbour. In exchange for rent-free use of the basement, the basement neighbour agrees to cover the expenses of any damages they may cause. Is that enough?”

“I think so,” Timothy said, looking at the paper. “I’m not a lawyer.”

Ed chuckled.

“Well, let’s hope our neighbour isn’t one either. Now let’s sign it.” He put his signature on the corner and handed the pen to his son to scrawl his name underneath. Then he added a line on the other side of the document.

“Now I guess I just gotta get the monster’s signature.”

“Neighbour's!”

“Neighbour's, right. I’ll do that tomorrow, I don't wanna bother them so late. What do you say we read for a bit and go to bed?”

“Peter Pan?”

“Sure, why not.”

After Timothy dozed off, Ed grabbed the document they’d crafted and the pen next to it and walked down to the basement. The light flickered to life when it captured his movement. It was colder down there but not unpleasantly. There was a washing machine in one corner, shelves of preserves and wine from his parents in the other, and in the center an old couch and a coffee table sitting on a thick rug.

“Hi, baby,” Ed said into thin air. He put the paper and pen on the table. “Timothy was worried the monster in the basement would break his toys and made me write an agreement in case of damages. Would you be so kind and sign it?”

The document shuffled on the surface and he dropped onto the couch. The lights flickered and dimmed like a thick fog suddenly fell over them. The shadows around, thick and misty, caressed his wrist in question.

“I haven’t told him anything. I guess he just senses you,” he shrugged before collapsing deeper into the cushions. The lightbulb above the stairs shut off with a click after not sensing any movements for a while. The darkness settled heavier on his skin.

“Maybe I should, he’s a smart boy.”

A huff. A scratch of pen against paper.

Let him start school first.

Ed raised his hand, caressing the shape around him. He smiled at the creature he couldn’t see but could feel. “You’re so maternal,” he cooed with a happy sigh.

Shut up, the darkness scolded, slapping his arm. It felt like little pinpricks of cold.

“There’s only a week left. My boy is going to school. He’s growing up so fast,” he choked up with realization and his lover purred, caressing his skin with emotion.

All kids do.

“I know. Yeah,” he sighed, burying his face into them.

You’re a great dad, they added. He smiled.

“Thank you.”

I say it how it is. Oh, by the way, you forgot to plug in your laptop.

“Shit, thanks. What would I do without you?”

Wither alone and untouched.

He barked out a surprised laugh that was quickly captured by the darkness. It coaxed him gently to lay down, pressing him into the cushions, into his favourite place to be - between the thrifted couch and the creature he found in his basement.

#monsterlovetober2023 #monster lover #monster romance #monsterfucker #fantasy romance #human/monster romance #monster kink #original story #spooktober

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livvyofthelake · 4 months ago

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now that we’ve been sitting on it for four months i need to rank the tortured poets department for real… it means nothing to rank an album two days after it comes out like that’s pointless fr let’s take this seriously

guilty as sin. this is an insane song. unfortunately i read a book the week this album came out and this song is permanently attached to that book in a small part but as we all know i did my absolute best to remain chill neutral and only weird about tsc at the time of this album drop so it all balanced out in the end and none of the songs are particularly associated with anything cringe. except two. but not this one i only brought up the book because it’s a little bit associated. you understand. the song is a slay of epic proportions on its own of course. i’ve mentally made this one about so many fictional guys it’s crazy… we have fun huh

my boy only breaks his favorite toys. this one was my instant favorite she’s not going anywhereeeee

but daddy i love him. some people don’t understand it but i do… i love her…

the alchemy. honestly? who are we to fight the alchemy…. literally!!!!

the albatross. sort of like who’s afraid of little old me if it was a song i liked more!

so high school. what more is there to say than truth dare spin bottles you know how to ball i know aristotle brand new full throttle touch me while your bros play grand theft auto it’s true swear scouts honor you knew what you wanted and boy you got her brand new full throttle you already know babe…

florida. cunty! florence + the machine!

the black dog. aforementioned two songs. well we knew this would be one. like we knew that the whole time. what could i possibly have done to save this one… genuinely what could i possibly have done. we saved the album in time i know but i mean. we all knew this track was a goner. nothing to be done. it’s a great song though like genuinely let’s be honest… one out of 31 is a great ratio. april 18th me was expecting a much worse percentage tbh

down bad. i just like it :)

who’s afraid of little old me. mildly over saturated. but kinda deserved the hype she slays

fresh out the slammer. one of aforementioned two songs that kinda got ruined. this song is about cbs drama fire country forever there’s nothing to be done. it’s not a huge loss this song is a little mid if i’m being honest. i think it’s too short i don’t fuck with it heavily

fortnight. my husband is cheating!! i wanna kill him!!!!

the prophecy. song that makes you cry…

the smallest man who ever lived. crazy ass bridge. rest of the song. well.

i can fix him (no really i can). i like that this song title is formatted like a fanfiction title that’s a lyric to a taylor swift song…

imgonnagetyouback. like. cute fun song sure yes. cannot get it out of my head that me personally if i had asked for writing credits from olivia rodrigo on a song that sounded nothing like my song, i personally would not have released this. me personally…

how did it end. crazy song that makes you go damn her life suckssss for real… yikes!

i can do it with a broken heart. not even a bad song it’s just the popular one with swifties and i hear it all the time without my consent.

the tortured poets department. can i be honest. sometimes taylor swift writes songs that would be awesome if not for one utterly batshit ridiculous lyric that embarrasses me so bad i can’t even fuck with the song. this has happened many times she’s an embarrassing celebrity to like everyone knows this. it’s not even the “you smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate we declared charlie puth should be a bigger artist” that’s actually fine. it’s what comes directly after that. “i scratch your head you fall asleep like a tattooed golden retriever” taylor. 😐 i can’t. i can’t even talk about this actually. also i can’t stand the lucy dacus and jack antonoff name drop lyrics at all like taylor please stop embarrassing me….

i do not actively listen to any of the other ones anymore so i just didn’t include them because why would i rank songs i don’t even listen to let’s take this seriously… they’re fine. the only one i might describe as a song i actively dislike is chloe or sam or sophia or marcus. like i do not care for that one at all

#ok. hope everyone enjoyed me ranking taylor swift songs based on nothing but my own opinions <3 #beth.txt

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