#smash the reset button

[bochedogmeat]

Help!! I appear to have been trapped in human flesh!! Wont somebody tell me how to get my canid form back??

[sorenlionheart]

when i look back at my t/oh hyperfixation i do find it a little surprising i kept up with the show past season 1, not to say the show is bad but it went in a different direction than what i expected for better or for worse

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟒   ❛ 𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐥𝐬 ❜   |   RIVA DORATA, TARTOSA, MAY 1998

For a time, Renzo maintained a strict division between the life he shared with Leonor and the professional existence that adjoined it. This was the only thing he was strict about—at least, in theory, for a transient moment, until he devolved into a more comfortable, equivocal laxity about that, too.

[narrative continued, long as hell, below ↓]

𝟭𝟵𝟵𝟰 🅐🅤 ‣ start \ prev \ next (film fest) \ next (au story)

big thank you to the cameos in this one which apparently ended up being a glimpse everyone except siri's ?? sorry girl ! apologies there isn't more screen time or dialogue in this post, but stay tuned ♥️

@armoricaroyalty @theroyalsofcorrilea @earthmoonz @crvptydgaming @houseofrenaldi @simsishh @nilonne @crownsofesha

lastly: i am way too tired to do a proper Author's Note and will surely edit this when i am fully conscious and embarrassed by it BUT in the meantime, well, enjoy and let me know what you think! channeling the energy of jfk jr & carolyn public quarrel pics meets 90 day fiance meets every industry couple ever complaining about work travel … this is only a slice of the diversity of careful research that went into this nonsense … astonishing, amusing, bizarre findings. & i arbitrarily chose 1998 but feel like it should be earlier ...'96-97' perhaps … lastly 2x, hilarious to me that all of this drama is because Leonor Learned Creating Nepo Babies Is Hard Work, Actually—

CONTINUED:

Their departure from Uspana wasn’t a calculated decision so much as an abrupt flight with no thought spared as to what it meant for his career. It had, after all, panned out in the past. Dropping everything was a convenient reset button he could and did smash at will: Petunia to Los Angeles, Los Angeles to Nakawe, Nakawe to New York. This was just another chapter—a third act. How and when it took shape didn’t matter. Money wasn’t an issue. Even if it were, the demands and specifications of Leonor’s lifestyle were so extravagant that the shape of this new life slipped into her hands, or her purse, as it were. They learned that the hard way, but it was for the best. Renzo could return calls from agents and producers and photographers and journalists and designers and everyone else eager for a piece of him when he felt like it. They wouldn’t stop calling, and he wouldn’t care if they ever did.

As a passenger on this journey, Leonor watched how he moved with bewilderment. His lackadaisical disposition wasn’t new to her. Everyone theorized about him for good reason. Was it a persona—the coolness that kept his celebrity star on the rise? Or, if he was like that, how to account for the many incidents where he patently was not? Was he the unruly partier, the defiant miscreant, the reflective artist, the bashful everyman he seemed to be? He was all of it, Leonor knew: apathetic, easygoing, impetuous, and temperamental; motivated by hardheaded opinions, reckless disregard, and a pernicious yet constantly frustrated need to go unnoticed. It was a compelling archetype for someone like him. Aloof actors with turbulent insides were a Hollywood favorite. So, her concern ebbed and flowed. She had chosen to follow him on the conviction that they needed nothing except the other’s attention and affection. It was a romantic fantasy, but it was also an effective guard against meddling. It wasn’t her business because she didn’t have business anymore, and that wouldn't be a bad thing. It was good, in fact. It was exactly what she wanted. More than a want, it had been a necessity.

Yet, as time passed, she itched to pounce on the crumbs of information he left scattered. She heard snippets of calls he took. She listened to him mull over opportunities, grumbling to himself about considerations she didn’t understand. His money was less orderly than hers—not tied up in property and investments, except for the house he maintained for his parents—but she could see how it came and went. What exactly he did once he agreed to a job and humbled himself to be bound by legalese, she wasn’t sure. Although he talked about it in opaque ways, and she asked fumbling if earnest questions, her technical understanding came from overheard conversations with his peers. She met them on occasion, the many colleagues with whom he shared projects or just a profession. They all passed whatever test he required to access his leisure time and all possessed eccentricities that, for her, put his own in perspective. They were strange people. Nonetheless, the full picture remained far from complete, refusing to cohere, just beyond her grasp.

Leonor did know more than she had at the beginning, when they made a hotel suite home for three weeks and insulated themselves from the realities waiting beyond its walls. They needed a house. They needed something to do. They needed more money, probably. They needed more drugs and definitely needed more of the greasy takeout noodles they gleefully devoured in the plush hotel bed when they remembered to eat. As details of their new life finally began to solidify, she ventured a question, wondering aloud, “I thought you were going to do that film?” Renzo had been lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling, scratching his fingertips against the thick rug fibers beneath his hands. As she sat down and lifted his head into her lap, he replied, “Pulled out.” They had snickered, and that was it.

Things changed fast. Their aspiration had been to rent a cool house for storing art and entertaining friends, not to build a nest for a family. At first, Leonor’s concern bubbled over. She envisioned another day-long flight back to Uspana, much of it to be spent in the tiny closet that passed for a restroom. That wasn’t what she wanted. Yet, her first reaction was a sudden, overwhelming desire for home. It didn’t take very long to sour that longing with hard truths. What she wanted didn’t exist anymore. There had been a world where she might have rushed home and into her mother’s waiting arms. Safya would know what to say as she stroked Leonor’s hair, and she would share memories of her own that Leonor had never heard before. She would insist it was natural to be terrified and, worse, distressed by a small seed of secret joy. Safya had a way of speaking with such sunny yet serious warmth that made the harshness of one’s troubles easier to face. ‘Just wrap your arms around it,’ she often murmured. ‘No worry is bigger than you.’ And that—that would provide an ideal break for Leonor to anguish over the inevitability of becoming even bigger. It wouldn’t be a joke, not really, but they would laugh together, and then Safya would hide her rueful understanding behind the comforting lie that everything would be okay.

Leonor never questioned how important their family was to him, but she did question even now whether he understood what it meant to have one. Neither of his parents had been the doting type. That seemed to motivate him as much as it hindered him. He took an enthusiastic yet solemn approach to the best and worst of parenting, and she delighted in those moments when something Gael or Liliana did left him wonderstruck. It was the small, unremarkable things: Gael’s insistent, matter-of-fact babbling while they played; Liliana’s drowsy, bemused blinking as she awoke from an unplanned nap in an unexpected location; the intoxicating scent they each had as newborns, one best inhaled while nuzzling their soft spots. Before Gael arrived, he spent many evenings chewing cigarillos with a pregnancy book in one hand while the other rubbed circles into her back. She would see his furrowed brow cast in lamplight when she invariably rolled over and back again, uncomfortable in her body but at least soothed by the sight. 

While her mother’s hands-on parenting meant she had tender memories of her infant brothers, Renzo was an only child. ‘My experience with babies starts when you pop that out,’ was his frank summary. She had assured him then that they would figure it out together and, now, she had become increasingly aware of what figuring remained. Leonor wasn’t quite naive enough to believe everyone had a personal banker responsible for managing their sprawling, complex maze of bequeathed family wealth. Yet, having her own children alerted her to how unnatural that was. Even her own trustee offered what was perhaps his first unsatisfying response when she asked him to help. ‘My hands are tied, my princess. I was appointed by your mother, with the Crown’s permission, and your son, well …’ Leonor had cleared her throat to stop him from stumbling through the words. She knew well enough. Like an organ removed from its body, she was weakened, enfeebled, isolated and drained by the separation. 

Renzo, of course, laughed at the situation. ‘You want a trust fund for him? Okay, sure. Fine. Paperwork for a baby. Don’t cry over it! Jesus. Some kids don’t have fucking food to eat, you know.’ She did know that, but she had wanted to shout at him, so she said something provocative. It wasn’t hard to devolve into personal attacks; how could she be blamed for not having a “real job” when he was a “failed musician” who “played pretend” for a living? Why was this “piddling princessy bullshit” his problem when she spent thousands monthly on “dumb shit” no one cared about? When one didn’t understand something said, they took a break to mock each other’s accents. Those were the light fights that ended in better-natured laughter.

On the worst occasion, they had stomped upstairs together, Leonor nearly knocking him down on the way, to begin an inventory of ‘useless junk no one cares about.’ Later, they both wept when she returned to the scene and started fretting over his broken records and the gaping holes in her canvases. They exchanged apologies and made promises, including the charming ‘pinky swears’ whose foreign absurdity easily cracked her scowl with laughter. If nothing else, their hard and fast reconciliations almost made it all worthwhile—or, that was the delirious conclusion Leonor’s mind would drift toward before she heard a familiar echo in her memory. Renzo had his own unpleasant cacophony of recollections. They locked their fingers, stifled any leftover giggles, and promised, among other things, to remember that their innocent, curious, impressionable child deserved better memories.

His hiatus didn’t drag on forever, and it was Leonor who called Sharon Greenwater—with Renzo’s blessing—to ensure it had an end in sight. She had never met Sharon, even though she had helped her land this job. The onslaught of attention that associating with a princess on her home turf heaped onto his already high profile necessitated it. He thought otherwise but, not for the first time, took a leap of faith. It had flattered her that he accepted her advice. On paper and in her immature mind, that was the only smart move. There were entire worlds he knew better than she ever would, and he had packed more experience into the near-decade he had on her than most people did in a lifetime. But this? ‘This is what I know,’ she had insisted. He listened better when they were eye to eye, skin to skin. He was less wise than she was, less of a professional, but more emotional. If she used the same tone and touched him the same way sometime later, saying, ‘Remember? You promised me,’ then he melted and caved. 

This strategy worked well after another blockbuster argument and the marathon reconciliation that followed.  Renzo had shot down her proposal to let the clan mothers back home rename their baby. Even as she pitched the idea, explaining in a prim and credible way that it could unlock a portfolio of “lucrative coffee estates” in a “scenic provincial sector” of Uspana for Gael to inherit “as a start,” she watched his expression slide from curiosity to revulsion to a look of amusement that riled her up faster than any words could. ‘Are you fucking crazy? Are you out of your goddamn mind?’  They talked over one another and lowered themselves, this time slinging mud in the form of class-based insults. Leonor called him something vile, a niche derogation about going barefoot whose heft back home she promptly prayed he wouldn’t understand. But, he did—enough to insist she had effectively “tarred her own kid” with the same stain, which was why her “family of leeches” thought inheriting “nothing but poverty” would suit him just fine. ‘He’s not even a Reyes. You made damn sure of that, didn’t you?  You did that!  Boo-fucking-hoo.’  What could she say to that? She picked up her cup from the coffee table and threw its contents at him, letting it hit the ground after the satisfying split-second splash. She left him soaked and, standing there with his bare feet, surrounded by thick chunks of broken crystal glassware. 

He later found her upstairs in bed on the telephone with her brother. She was already speaking in a hushed tone but hurried to end the call as the wooden steps finished their tell-tale creaking. Renzo lingered, waiting until she returned the receiver to its cradle and beckoned him over. She murmured the regards Mateo sent him, patted the bed, and didn’t resist when he pulled her closer, over one outstretched leg, squarely into his lap. It worked for her. After all, she didn’t look at him until after he had begun to talk.

He offered an apology, an earnest explanation, and his own proposal. The answer was to return Sharon Greenwater’s calls, but his resistance to that wasn’t altogether dissimilar from his resistance to submitting, infant-first, to the harsh glare of Uspana’s spotlight and her family’s scrutiny. Unlike his colleagues and peers and unwanted fans, they wouldn’t be generous. The sensitive little boy inside of him was well-used to insults that attacked those flaws and deformities he couldn’t change. That little boy felt just as protective of the one they now shared, too—felt empathetic, having learned the bittersweet lesson that too much attention could hurt just as much as too little. 

Leonor chose to look at him as he began to weave these concerns together for her. Did she know how often he still felt fright and panic living within himself like a parasite? He could numb it or run from what fed it, but he couldn’t kill it. Interviews and critiques, Hollywood or the House of Tecuani, fame or family, it was the same. ‘I don’t do this for my health,’ he’d chuckled, gesturing in the direction of his own bedside where bottles and bags and an overflowing ashtray sat. He kept tapes there: live shows of discordant, frenetic jazz and blues rock that she could hear through his headphones when he laid there, still and serene, at peace like the dead.

When he initially told her about his first major film premier, he’d only said he didn’t watch it. He left after one scene, he claimed, to go chain smoke on a stoop outside one of the service doors instead. Only, it sounded like sly proof of nonchalance back then. She had been too busy picturing what he looked like in those days, harboring a newfound desire to make him watch his cheesy romantic comedy with her, and taking note of the fact that she could have fit in seamlessly with those “teenybopper” crowds he had so disdained. Now, she understood. Her response sounded soft but solemn as she assured him, ‘You don’t have to worry about that. I want to be there with you. It’s the one thing in the world I know how to do. Just let me.’ 

So, Sharon Greenwater, a jack-of-all-trades agent with a wide network and a bullish demeanor, reentered his life. He liked her for some reasons he had liked Leonor: she was mean and honest, she never let herself be wrong, and she let him believe his choices were indeed his own. Though, there were exceptions. She found The Last Con for him around the same time that he finished reading Yuling Zhao’s latest script. Leonor, observing from the outside, wasn’t surprised that his agent begged him to sign onto a guaranteed money-maker helmed by a certified industry darling while he drifted toward an artsy period drama penned by a friend. Sharon wasn’t surprised either. She tried the “veggies-and-dessert” approach. If he gravitated toward soulful projects, she reminded him those “empty safes” required a big deposit. ‘Come on. You know the drill. Buck the fuck up, buttercup, right?’ He scrawled his name on contracts for high-concept advertisements and low-commitment television cameos when the bargaining was done. This time, what did surprise Leonor was his quick compromise. He was on the phone with Sharon for a follow-up to discuss the two options when he heaved a heavy sigh and exclaimed, ‘Fuck it, let’s do both.’ That gave Sharon pause, too, apparently. After a few beats, he told her he was sure. He said he missed feature lengths. He said the workload would be fine.  ‘Baptism by fire,’ he said. ‘I’ll be fucking born again, baby. These dumbass dimwits love that.’ 

Having been eavesdropping, Leonor experienced a pang of trepidation on the heels of her initial excitement. She was relieved but suspected his success would not be so simple for herself and, even more, their family. That pang became recurrent, and her unease reached a crescendo when his looming absence cast a dark shadow over unexpected news of a second baby. That shock felt different this time—not wholly unpleasant, not wrapped far too tightly in fear and uncertainty—but still inspired mixed feelings in them both. For her part, Leonor didn’t harbor those original worries about his reaction and their relationship. It wasn’t hard to see how another child would fit into a life that was already molding around an infant. What was hard to envision was spending so much of that months-long wait alone. She had acquired her own local art scene connections, ingratiated herself with Renzo’s long-standing friends in the city, returned ignored voicemails from his mother, and never hesitated to rack up telephone bills for international calls. 

None of it would be enough. 

That was what she lamented on the eve of his departure to San Francisco, which sounded ridiculous even to her ears. Her plaintive tone did bother him. That she sounded so forlorn while she sat rubbing yet another coat of body butters and oils into her belly didn’t help. She lacked the energy to argue. Doing so might have given her a jolt of agitation that could dispel the distress for a few wasted minutes. Instead, they fell quiet. It was tension, not peace, that filled the room as he continued tossing random items into his suitcase. ‘Don’t bring that! You can buy more when you get there,’ she thought of complaining. ‘Do you need to smoke that right now?’ she could have asked or, better yet, accused. Worse, it occurred to her that she could have stabbed him directly: ‘You didn’t even ask me to come with you. I know why—a hundred reasons, probably, skinny little brunettes and blondes and those ugly red hairs—’ While she stewed, he crammed in clothes that were already wrinkled alongside dirty boots and dog-eared paperbacks. She gritted her teeth as he threw in a handful of her candy. His thoughts boiled down to a simple kind of refrain: ‘This is what you wanted, Leonor.’

Instead, once the bag was closed, he returned to her with a resolute look on his face. Sinking to his knees at the bedside, he took over the gentle massaging that made their hands slick and sweetly scented. She could tell he had something to say, and she had picked out several of her own opening lines. In theory, she would swallow her apprehension and offer him one like a blooming flower or a white flag. He saved her the trouble. ‘If it’s too hard, just come, okay? Bring Gael, whatever. If you can’t, I’ll come to you. It’s easy. If it’s not, I don’t give a shit. Doesn’t work for them? Maybe the stars are just aligned wrong, or whatever the fuck, this time, and we try again.’ Leonor couldn’t suppress her grin, and she didn’t try to suppress her excited follow-up, one whose harmless absurdity made him laugh. ‘No, no, no! You behave, and I’ll be brave,’ she replied. ‘Because I really, really, really want to go to Tartosa with you next year!’ 

TRANSCRIPT:

[Chatter, cameras shuttering]

[Photographers shouting]

TYLER | Here comes another big one! Renzo Ledford is no stranger to Tartosa’s biggest event, but he is doing double duty this year. It’s the first time for Leonor Reyes. How exciting!

TYLER | —and this is the first time we’ve seen you right here, isn’t it? RENZO | Here? Well, yeah, here.

TYLER | Right, on this landing, where the cameras are. You’ve attended the festival some over the years, but you sure do a great job of dodging us. I’d love to know how we missed you last time! RENZO | Fishing boats.

[Seagull calls, indistinct conversations, clattering, splashing water, miscellaneous overlapping market sounds]

TYLER | Oh! [Chuckles] Um, I see, you mean—? RENZO | She wanted the grand entry—Right? Come on, you did. Don’t be bashful—but me? What you do is hitch a ride on the fishing boats.

[Loud, snorting laughter]

RENZO | See? Great guys, to a man, honestly. Fascinating work. And I could sorta blend in, you know? Incognito. But this one? TYLER | [Laughs] Not as fit for a princess as the luxury speedboats?

LEONOR | I just thought he should have the full experience for once. TYLER | Film week in Tartosa is a special experience! Lots of traditions, lots of attractions, lots of locals and fans, lots of— RENZO | Lots of horsesh—Marketing. Not a natural-born salesman. I just say my lines, but they tell me that doesn’t cut it anymore.

TYLER | [Laughs] I’d say I’m sorry I made you share your secret, but RENZO | Yeah, uh uh, alright, it happens. Let’s go. Thanks.

RENZO | What? Are you upset? LEONOR | No. I feel like I should apologize. RENZO | For that? Hey, look, Sharon’ll handle it— LEONOR | Will she? Should she?

You’re not listening! Do you walk your ass in here to piss me off? Is that your goal, because I swear to—You! It’s you. You get off my ass! No, you! You aren’t even lazy, but you are screwed up in the head, and I—SHARON! RENZO! You. Have. Contractual. Obligations. Do you want me to spell it out for you? Say it slower? Smack some sense into you? Fuck them. And you. No, no, not on the table. We can’t even ask nicely. They’ll say no second date. Fuck ‘em! Tear them up. You’re on the hook. So what! Bill me! Jesus. Bill you? Why, I ought to—Cancel. Make something up. There are contracts. Contracts! So, get me out of ‘em. Are you deaf and stupid? We will be sued! Yeah, okay! What the everloving fuck do I pay you for? To bitch at me? I got a mother, alright? Here we go. Get rid of the goddamn contracts. What in the hell do I look like? A prostitute? I’m not wasting my time eye-fucking some camera on a foreign beach to sell, what, wristwatches or boat shoes or whatever overpriced yuppie shit—Cologne. What? Cologne and wine. Underwear, maybe, but—SHARON!

You keep your nose clean when you come in here. Oh, you think—? [Laughs] All me! Stone cold. Work on that, okay? You are a menace. Are you crazy? Pretty does not work on me. Or everyone, you know. Oh, I know. You think I don’t know? I’m serious as a heart attack.

She thinks I’m pretty. Ain’t that sweet of her? Your … whatever he is to you, Leonor, he’s a fucking asshole. You damn right. Go take a lap. Bring me a coffee, hold the spit. Or something stronger. They sent gift bottles for us. Fucking nasty European frou-frou bullshit—[Sharon laughs] See, that’s why they want him. He’s such a talented actor. It’s so believable. Go on, talk your shit to her, Sharon—[Snickering] ‘Eye-fucking the camera.’ He knows good and well, doesn’t he, Miss Reyes? He knows what God put him on this earth to do. He‘s just a little pissy about it, that’s all. I don’t blame him. Maybe you have to be a son-of-a-bitch in those boots.

LEONOR | I get it. Or, actually: I, of all people, should know better. RENZO | No … No, fuck, you’re right. You are. We talked about this—more than once. ‘Behave and be brave.’

“Renzo laughed at the situation. ‘You want a trust fund for him? Okay, sure. Fine. Paperwork for a baby. Don’t cry over it! Jesus. Some kids don’t have fucking food to eat, you know.’ She did know, but she had wanted to shout at him, so she provoked him. It wasn’t hard to devolve into personal attacks; how could she be blamed for not having a ‘real job’ when he was a ‘failed musician’ who ‘played pretend’ for a living? Why was this ‘piddling princessy bullshit’ his problem when she ‘set piles of cash on fire’ every single month for ‘no damn good reason’? When one didn’t understand something said, they took a break to mock each other’s accents. Those were the light fights that ended in better-natured laughter.”

“On the worst occasion, they had stomped upstairs together, Leonor nearly knocking him down on the way, to begin an inventory of ‘useless junk no one cares about.’ Later, they both wept when she returned to the scene and started fretting over his broken records and the gaping holes in her canvases. They exchanged apologies and made promises, including the charming ‘pinky swears’ whose foreign absurdity easily cracked her scowl with laughter. If nothing else, their hard and fast reconciliations almost made it all worthwhile—or, that was the delirious conclusion Leonor’s mind would drift toward before she heard a familiar echo in her memory. Renzo had his own unpleasant cacophony of recollections. They locked their fingers, stifled any leftover giggles, and promised, among other things, to remember that their innocent, curious, impressionable child deserved better memories.”

He has so much, Nora. I wish you could see that. I do. But, I want him to have everything.

You don't think I do? I think … You know better than that. Hilarious. It’d sure as shit be easier if that was true.

—So, maybe, I’m being unrealistic. What? Why? I can’t have it only my way. If not “only,” then—No, I understand. I should adapt. I have a perfect life with everything I could want, but it’s not what I thought my life would be like, so I find reasons to be unhappy. With me? It’s not. It’s … What you represent. [Whistles] Really? Wow. Brutal. Not like that! Just … We would be so good, if we were one person. Yeah? Yes. But I want so much. I shouldn’t. And, I won’t give anything up. Neither will I. But, you have, though. And so have you.

Money problems destroy people—marriages, families, and—Yes, I know, so I—Shh. Let me finish. We do not have money problems, Leonor. You know when I realized that was behind me? No… When I had time to sit around and worry about my problems. If you are really, truly fucked in life, you can’t afford to whine and wallow. Wallow? Yeah. Like… You know, a pig. Oh, what? No, no. How disgusting. I wouldn’t ever—No, I meant—never mind. You get me? Yes. We have to be one person, in a way. I didn’t let you do anything, but I kinda did, so all of these growing pains are my responsibility. That’s funny. No, that can’t be true. I’m not the baby here. You’re not overreacting, I swear to God. You had a whole world at your beck and call. And now? Helluva a downgrade. Just me. No: us. Us.

So, what, I don’t have to make a budget now? No cuts? [Scoffs] No, you need to do some math—get a platinum calculator or something, for fuck’s sake. [Laughs] Really, do you know how much money you blow? So do you. Not like you. Oh, my things are silly and yours are good, practical purchases? Is that it? Do you know how many shoes you’ve gotten, just this month? Shoes are practical. You can’t play a dozen guitars differently; it’s just toys. What? What? The hell … Do we gotta rethink this “us” thing already? [Leonor chuckles]

RENZO | It was those fuckers. Parasites, a whole hive waiting on us. LEONOR | They’re doing their jobs. We do ours. Symbiotic, actually. RENZO | Uh huh. What I was saying is, I messed up. Simple as that. LEONOR | You did mess up. RENZO | [Chuckles] Ah—That’s a freebie. I’m all out of mea culpas now. LEONOR | You love to apologize to me. RENZO | We skip the handshake line, we can go do that instead.

RENZO | Would you believe that back there was being nice? LEONOR | [Snorts] No, of course not. RENZO | Good, since I wasn’t. I’ll try next time—play ball, all that shit.

LEONOR | You promise? A pinky swear? On Gael and Lili? RENZO | Hell no! [Laughter]

[coco-loco-nut]

imgonnagetyouback

pairing: logan sargeant x reader

summary: you aren’t sure if you want to destroy his car or take him home with you

a/n: most of this was written late at night and not proofread. love y’all, thanks for answering the poll, that was fun. might do it again

requests open masterlist series masterlist

————————

You enter your usual Miami haunt with your friends, one mission in mind. Your lilac skirt fits your like a glove, showing off your legs and curves. It was Logan’s favorite.

Logan was an asshole, he knows it, ever since he broke up with you last year. He’s been keeping tabs on your socials recently, knowing this is where you go when you are in Miami instead of Fort Lauderdale. He brought Oscar with him as moral support, they stand at the bar, laughing over some bubbly drink.

Your eyes scan the club as you walk in, slightly pausing when you recognize the blonde guy staring at you from the bar, you can tell when someone wants you. Instead, you train your eyes on some guy on the dance floor, sending him a flirty smile and joining him for a dance or two, giving Logan a chance to pull himself together before going in. He can’t help but tell Oscar how good you look. The trap has been sprung. You are going to get Logan back. Whether romantically or by revenge, you weren’t sure.

You walk over to the bar, pretending to have not noticed the pair, standing one seat over.

“Tequila shot,” you order and Logan takes his chance.

“Add two more and put it on my tab,” Logan tells the bartender, Oscar gags a little, but doesn’t protest. You give Logan a look he can’t decipher, but you slide into the seat beside them.

“Thanks,” you say, the awkward small talk between the three of you filling the time as you wait for the shots. Logan salts his wrist for his shot. You grab his wrist, lick it, and throw back the shot. Oscar barely suppresses his laugh as you turn to go back to the dance floor. Logan quickly throws back the shot and follows you. Your friends find Oscar and chat, the group curious to see how this pans out.

“Y/n,” Logan catches your wrist, you act like you don’t care about him, but you can see the whispers in his eyes searching if you still love him. It breaks your cold heart a little. “Don’t be mad, please. I never wanted to hurt you,” he says, trying to win you back.

“I’m like your fucking car. You steered me into the fucking ditch then ran off,” you say after a second, turning back towards the crowd, he just pulls you closer.

“I’m so sorry. I hate myself for that,” he admits, you ignore him, dancing to the beat, not pushing him away but not encouraging him to dance with you either. Just when things are feeling too comfortable, you walk away in the direction of the bathrooms. Logan follows.

“Will you give me a chance?” he asks, the music quiet in the background. ‘God, he’s so fucking fine’ you think to yourself. The lighting doing everything right, the shadows enhance his jawline but his eyes shine bright.

“I haven’t decided yet,” your eyes revealing more than you intended. He can see the hurt and love in them. You aren’t sure if you want to curse him out or bring him home.

“What can I do,” he grabs your hands.

“I don’t know. I’m between being your wife or smashing your car,” you say, steeling yourself. Logan is thinking twice, unsure if he was ever yours or was never not yours. Logan pulls your closer, kissing you. Your body automatically responds to him. letting him pull you close.

“You’re mine,” you whisper, the temptation to both flip him off or pull him into the bathroom strong. He follows you back to the dance floor, you can feel the tension and chemistry coming back, electricity humming in the way you dance together. It’s like pressing a reset button, becoming something new. Oscar and your friends left a while ago, knowing the two of you were determined to leave here together from the start.

You tell the cab the address of your Miami apartment. Every moment that passes sees the hurt and past fade to gray.

“Pick your poison, I’m poison either way,” you had told Logan earlier, he chose you anyway, the both of you wanting to play with the broken pieces of your former relationship.

He pushes you against the wall, kissing you passionately.

“Before we do this, where do you stand? If we go ahead, there is no turning back,” Logan stops, needing to know that you belong to him again, you already know he belongs to you.

“I hate you but I love you just the same. I’m gonna get you back,” you tug on his shirt, pulling him back to you, a feral need for him growing.

It wasn’t a surprise to Logan’s friends when you showed up to the Miami paddock later that week.

What was a surprise was the ring around your finger, one that matches the one around Logan’s.

“What the hell?” Oscar asks, a smile on his face.

“I’m not going to let her go again,” Logan looks down at you with a smile.

“I chose to love him till the end, luckily for Sauber,” you joke, referencing the team who decided to take a chance on Logan and help him develop.

“I’m happy for you two,” Oscar says, happy to see his best friend happy. Everyone but your parents were happy for you, the parents were just mad you got married without them there.

“I am too, but I will take it out on his car if he hurts me again,” you tell Oscar, joking but not joking. Logan just holds you closer. You both told each other about your plans to get each back, it caused a lot of laughter.

“That’s my wife,” he grins proudly. Oscar shakes his head at his friends.

“You did what!” Alex runs over to the two of you. “Where was my invite? Oh, glad to have you back Y/n, Lily missed you,” Alex says, as the two of you just laugh.

instagram

y/nsargeant what if i told you i’m a mastermind, and now your mine ❤️

logansargeant it was all by design ❤️

oscarpiastri not letting the two of you go back to a club, Y/n will end up pregnant or something

y/friend1 you both took getting each other back a little too seriously. this is why i love you

user1 hold up, since when were mom and dad back together??

user2 AND MARRIED??

y/friend2 you really went to the club heartbroken and left ready to get married😭 ilysm

alexalbon they are so unserious 😭

sauberf1 when did this happen? LOGAN??? we’re not mad. pick up your phone

charlesleclerc ^^^

carlossainz55 ^^^

landonorris ^^^

georgerussell iconic

y/nsargeant thanks pookie 🫶

[catnipuff]

plot hole?

the way loops work is that they repeat the same day over and over again, right? So anyone and anything that is not peculiar will experience the same thing, kind of like someone hitting a reset button every night.

so, in theory, if you, say, smash a plate, the next day it will no longer be broken, right? Well this raises a few questions.

first is the leaf sculpture of Adam and later on, Miss Avocet. But for this I’ll just assume Fiona made them before the day became a loop.

second is the fact that Enoch will have infinite clay, and his homunculi will last for one day before he has to make new ones. And also he will have infinite hearts.

Also, Enoch’s Homunculi. In theory first book, it says he spent days in the basement doing experiments. The basement slowly started to resemble a civil war hospital. But won’t the ‘dead’ homunculi disappear after the loop resets??? And Enoch gave Victor his best homunculi when they bury him. How does that work? I assume he didn’t make his best homunculi the same day, because he almost died from dr golan’s hollow. It doesn’t make sense.

can someone pls explain 😭

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could I request a reader who is an adult probably scavenging some parts or an ex maintenance worker who rescues Cassie with the help of roxie and Monty who was fixed by the reader.

As the young girl came to her senses, she could only groan in pain, although it was violently cut short when she began coughing due to the surrounding dust.

She then felt a warm liquid trickling down the side of her head, eventually landing on her bottom lip where she tasted iron.

Spitting it out in disgust, she could see it was crimson red.

'What happened to me...?'

Cassie tried to move, but quickly found that her leg was pinned underneath rubble, and above that was a slab of concrete that would be impossible for her to lift up on her own. She still tried to free herself, only to stop when she felt pain.

Her eyes eventually found the smashed maintenance elevator she was thrown out of, her memories becoming clearer. 'That's right...the elevator..'

Soon her gaze fell upon the shattered Roxy-Talkie device that was once her only connection with the outside world.

Her only connection with Gregory.

Or...at least who she thought was Gregory, only for it to be a lie.

And just as the real one managed to contact her and save her from that evil endoskeleton who was mimicking him, he betrayed her by dropping the damn elevator.

"Th-That jerk...!" She coughed. "He-"

'Cassie! Is that you?!"

"Cassie! If you can hear us, hang on!"

Blinking, she turned her head to see a familiar wolf coming to her rescue, alongside an adult who looked like one of the Fazbear technicians.

"R-Roxy.."

"Cassie! Thank goodness. We thought you were a goner.." Relieved, Roxy began shoving aside whatever she could to reach Cassie. From pipes to rocks to metal sheets.

"I-I thought you were, too." The girl shuddered, feeling her tugging on her arms.

But she remained stuck and cried out in pain when Roxy tried pulling her out, to which she immediately let go. "What's wrong? I-Is your leg broken?"

"No. She's just trapped under a giant concrete slab..you're not gonna be able to lift that, Roxy. That means you're up, big guy."

"Leave it to me, boss."

Cassie felt her blood run cold upon hearing the other familiar voice...one that she wishes she didn't hear.

"Grrrah....rrrAHHH!!!"

Within seconds, the slab was lifted, and she was free to look up at whoever saved her.

It was Monty, his upper body now affixed to a glamrock endo's lower half. He loomed over her, teeth gnashed together as he stared back down, looking annoyed. "I can't hold this all da-"

"AHH!! G-GET AWAY FROM ME!!!!" With a scream, she scrambled to her feet despite being in immense pain, determined to get as far away from the monstrous gator that stalked her all night.

She couldn't let him catch her.

Not again.

And so she ran-

Until she crashed into you, nearly knocking you over.

"Cassie! It's alright!" You kneeled down, holding her closely as her panicked breathings kept getting worse--to the point of hyperventilation. "It's okay. He's not gonna hurt you, shhh."

"B-But he's...h-he's...he's....!!!" She struggled to finish.

"Cassie, it's okay. Monty's on our side now. Look."

Hearing the comforting voice of her favorite animatronic, she slowly calmed down enough to look back, seeing Roxy standing there beside Monty, who had dropped the slab.

She blinked several times, confused at why he was so calm now and wasn't trying to chase her. "How did he...? He was in the water, and...I fried him-"

"It seems like you pushed the factory reset button on him," you spoke up. "Whatever you did worked pretty well. He's got his old personality back, although I don't think he remembers what exactly happened.."

Cassie gazed at you. "I-I'm sorry..who are you?"

"[Y/n]." Smiling, you set your hands on her shoulders. "I used to work with your dad, and-"

However, you fell silent when she began sniffling, eyes watering up as her lips trembled, clearly trying to stifle her sobs. You frowned and hugged her closely. "Oh, honey.."

That was all she needed to burst into tears, burying her face into your jacket as the stress of her journey finally came crashing down on her--in the emotional sense, this time.

She had no words to described how hurt and betrayed she felt; all she could do was sob and sob as she clung to you.

Roxy almost ran to comfort her on instinct, but Monty held her back by the arm and shook his head, assuring her that you both needed the space. The last thing she needed was two dangerous-looking animatronics hovering around her.

He knew that very well.

She reluctantly listened, watching as you picked up Cassie and allowed her to hug you around the neck.

"I-I wanna go home.." She hated how pathetic she sounded, though it was the truth.

She was so very tired.

"We'll get you home, I promise." You reassured her. "We found a way out."

"B-But..what about that endo?" Sniffling, she raised her head to look at you, wiping at her smudged makeup. "I-It's still here..what if it gets out, too-?"

"Oh, it ain't going nowhere anytime soon."

Confused, Cassie glanced back at Monty, her eyes widening upon seeing the head of the Mimic in his claws. "My trophy." He grinned from ear-to-ear, before attaching it to his hip.

You chuckled. "He tore that thing up in two seconds flat. It didn't even stand a chance."

"We both kinda ganged up on it." Roxy nudged her bandmate's elbow. "Nobody messes with the Glamrocks..especially us."

"Haha. Got that right!"

"That's good.." Cassie muttered, finally calming down as she realized he was indeed back to his old self, relieved the Mimic was no longer a threat. "But..what about the elevator?"

"It's not our only way up. If I know one thing about this place, it's that we got too many damn stairwells." You huffed. "Fortunately Monty cleared a path to one that was hidden. That's how we got down here and found you."

"Yeah, I did that." The gator boasted. "You guys should be thanking me!"

"We will after we get out of this dump." Roxy reminded him, rolling her nonexistent eyes. "I need to find Gregory so I can....." She paused, feeling as though you're staring at her, before she changed her wording carefully. "....tell him what a bad "friend" he is."

"I'll tell him that myself, too.." Cassie grumbled, resting her head against your shoulder. "Can we go now?"

"Yeah." Nodding, you took out your flashlight. "Let's not stay here any longer than we need to."

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

I was thinking about imgonnagetyouback x dress, it sounded great but i cant find the theme

Anon:

😂 (just teasing!)

It was obviously inspired by the Netherlands' love of cycling.

(Again, just kidding.)

It's the Make-Up Sex Mashup!

ok, sorry, I'm full of terrible jokes today.

I love this performance for so many reasons!

The theme is: I only bought this dress so you could take it off, cause I'm gonna get you back.

As always, I love me a Girl And Her Guitar Doing a Bit at a Coffee House moment, and she's in fine form in this one. What's interesting to me is that there was so much discussion on the dash recently, thanks to the FOTS revival, about the western themes, both thematically and sonically, in TTPD, and when she plays imgonnagetyouback here, I tooooooootally hear the yeehaw. Which I would not expect, because it sounds so distinctly Pop on the album, like it fits right in with the Midnights soundscape. Then again, I Did Something Bad is so bass-y and bombastic on Rep, but the bluesy twangy version on the B Stage at Eras absolutely sent me. Then when paired with dress, the mashup turns into a yeehawfied saucy romp! I guess what I'm saying is that I really love an acoustic guitar lol.

In terms of narrative, the mashup isn't particularly deep, but it is fun as hell. It's the lilac short (skirt) dress, the one that fits her like skin, that she only bought so her lover could take it off. By combining the two songs, she doesn't necessarily tell a new story, but she kind of extrapolate on one main one.

The narrator heads into the bar and finds her lover, who she's clearly pissed at, but not so pissed she doesn't want back home (and in her bed). I loooooooove how "I'm gonna get you back" transitions into "Our secret moments in a crowded room, they got no idea about me and you," because again it's another stroke of genius in her song selections! All of a sudden, the crowded room from Dress is the bar she walks into in imgonnagetyouback! The two songs then go from setting the scene (imgonnagetyouback) to revealing her inner monologue (Dress):

Standing at the bar like something's funny, bubbly, once you fix your face I'm going in -> All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting, my hands are shaking from all this (ah, ha, ha, ha) I hear the whispers in your eyes -> Say my name and everything just stops Whether I'm gonna be your wife or gonna smash up your bike, I haven't decided yet -> Carve your name into my bedpost, cause I don't want you like a best friend Whether I'm gonna curse you out or take you back to my house -> only bought this dress so you could take it off

Like: She's standing in the bar watching him and acting like a predator ready to attack, but inside she's shaking like a leaf! She's got the guts to walk up to him to make his jaw drop, but she knows the second he says her name it's all over and she'll fall like cards! She's still pissed and not sure if she wants to marry him or kill him, but she knows she doesn't want him to just be a friend or a hookup. She angry, but she knows she got dressed up just for him because she still has the hots for him!

And I love how she transitions from the chorus of Dress back into imgonnagetyouback! Once she confesses that she wants him by her side and he has presumably removed said dress, it's I can feel it comin', hummin' in the way you move, push the reset button, we're becoming something new. (Mayhaps the dress is the metaphor for the reset button!)

Other transitions I love?

Pick your poison babe, I'm poison either way... Say my name and everything just stops. I MEAN! She's daring her lover to pick her, because they'll fall back together as soon as he does. 🔥

I only bought this dress so you could take it off... whether I'm gonna be your wife or gonna smash up your bike, I haven't decided yet, but I'm gonna get you back because again! She is the mastermind! She had a PLAN. It doesn't matter if she wants to marry him or kill him, either way she is getting laid lol.

I love the Say you got somebody, I'll say, "I got someone too" / Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you line so much in general, but it's so interesting here! Now this is where I admit that my interpretation of that line, and maybe even the whole premise of imgonnagetyouback in general, is perhaps a little different than most. Because to me, the "say you got somebody" line doesn't sound like they're both actually with other people, or even flirting with other people. To me the read of the scenario, especially when paired with the following "even if it's handcuffed" line, is two lovers who are flirting with each other. It's like a game (a role playing game if you will lol), when couples joke with each other like, "oh yeah, don't tell my wife/husband I'm here flirting with you" when the whole conceit is that they are in fact each other's spouses and it's all teasing. I'M NOT SAYING I'M RIGHT OR THAT THAT'S THE INTENTION, but that's just like, the way I interpret it. So then with the handcuffed line it's like, yeah, you're not getting rid of me that easy buster. BUT what I'm getting at is that when paired with dress, where the couple is in a much less fraught place, I kind of see it along these lines too. I bought this dress and we're going to flirt and banter like we always do and then you're going to take me home and take this off like you're meant to.

And ultimately, We broke all the pieces but still want to play the game is what it all boils down to, because the game is this cat and mouse in the bar, where they're pretending it doesn't matter, but in the end, they just want each other back. One might say they want to get back on that bike. 🚲🚲

On a musical note, her vocals also pop off, especially at "even if it's handcuffed I'm leaving here with you," and they're 🤌🤌🤌 Maybe this is how both these songs should always be played actually.

This was so fun to revisit!

[youllalwaysfindyourwaybackhome]

thinking about imgonnagetyouback as a revenge fantasy in reaction to the events of the black dog where instead of "[her] longings stay[ing] unspoken", the grief turns to anger and speaker goes after the lover, her intentions unclear even to herself

"so I watch as you walk into some bar called the black dog" / "standing at the bar like something's funny"

"but she's too young to know this song" / "say you got somebody" / "you'll find that you were never not mine"

"I just don't understand how you don't miss me" / "I can tell when somebody still wants me, come clean"

"old habits die screaming" / "push the reset button, we're becoming something new"

"was it hazing? for a cruel fraternity" / "you knew the price going in"

"I still miss the smoke" / "I'm gonna get you back" / "whether I'm gonna be your wife..."

"I pledged and I still mean it" / "I might just love you 'til the end"

"do you hate me?" / "told my friends, "I hate you but I love you just the same""

"even if I die screaming, and I hope you hear it, and I hope it's shitty in the black dog" / "gonna smash up your bike... I'm gonna curse you out... I'm gonna flip you off"

[its-captain-sir]

cause it's like, you start off with the P-T extinction which was Horrible, like "90% of species died off" horrible so life on earth's having a really rough time and obviously over millions of years it does bounce back and start evolving off in different ways BUT THEN the T-J extinction hits and like 76% of life dies THERE and all those new guys disappear never to be seen again. like they literally showed up and then got wiped off the map again. the dinosaurs made it out of all that which is cool but wow, sucks to be life in the triassic

Man in the grand scheme of things the Triassic was just like fucked huh

[starishyu]

I haven't played Pokémon in a long while, so on February 22nd, 2025 ,I decided to pick up my copy of Pokémon Black and try for a shiny starter so I could begin a new journey on one of my favorite gens.

Of course, I had to choose the cutie patootie Oshawott to go for and, after 1715 soft resets, I got it today!

I never thought it would be so rewarding to get a shiny after hours and days of endless resetting, smashing the same buttons, and viewing the same cutscenes over and over again~

Am I thinking of which one to shiny hunt next? Obviously.

Out of curiosity, which was the first pokémon you decided to start hunting, and which gen you did it in? I'd love to know!

[rainforcsts]

making every album michaelia: the tortured poets department: the anthology by taylor swift

31 songs.........

fortnight - "i was a functioning alcoholic 'til nobody noticed my new aesthetic" "i love you, it's ruining my life"

the tortured poets department - #ihatemybf song but also SELF DESTRUCTION!!! and who else self destructs?? MICHAEL AND LIA!!!! "i chose this cyclone with you" lia WILL choose him every time no matter how destructive it is

my boy only breaks his favourite toys - again, self destruction. "just say when, i'd play again / he was my best friend / down at the sandlot" (i almost said and that was the worst part omg) she WOULD play again and THEY'RE BEST FRIENDS!!!!

down bad - depends if i'm talking about the clean or explicit version but this is lia cuz she's down bad crying at the gym

so long, london - "how much sad did you think i had / did you think i had in me?" "and you say i abandoned the ship BUT I WAS GOING DOWN WITH IT" when they break up but they lwk just hurt each other instead of actually leaving

but daddy i love him - 1. "i'm having his BAAAABYYYYY / NO I'M NOT. BUT YOU. SHOULD SEE YOUR FACES" cuz of that "dean, i'm pregnant" scene in all in. 2. cuz lia knows michael's bad for her and everyone tells her all the time(by everyone, i mean dean. but we all know cassie's just too nice to say anything. celine would never speak ill of her brother✊ and sloane is sloane.) OH YEAH AND "i just learned these people only raise you to cage you" because yk lia was raised in a cult where she felt TRAPPED

fresh out the slammer - michael!! returning to lia after cassie chose dean!!

florida!!! - michael and/or lia forgetting about their problems with e/o through other outlets

guilty as sin? - lia while michael wanted cassie but she lwk wasn't doing anything with him even tho she kinda was also "i choose you and me, religiously"

who's afraid of little old me? - Well

i can fix him (no really i can) - self explanatory...

loml - im gonna be real here this is striggs BUT if u think about it hard enough "a con man sells a fool a get love quick scheme" "if you know it in one glimpse it's legendary what we thought was for all time was momentary"

i can do it with a broken heart - lia still being a baddie even when hurt (e.g. miss rosy sunshine while she was upset about the whole in five seconds thing)

the smallest man who ever lived - "you said normal girls were boring but you were gone by the morning / you kicked out the stage lights but you're still performing" because mfs have never revealed their true self. they only show what they want to show. and ALSO lia isn't normal because she's a natural sooo

the alchemy - "i haven't come around in so long / but i'm making a comeback to where i belong" "'cause the sign on your heart said it's still reserved for me" michael returning to lia because she'll always wait for him

clara bow - No...

the black dog - "i just don't understand how you don't MISS ME" when he discarded lia like they never had an on again off again relationship and went to cassie

imgonnagetyouback - "whether i'm gonna be your wife or gonna smash up your bike, i haven't decided yet / but imgonnagetyouback" "you'll find that you were never not mine / you're MIIIIIIIINE" "small talk, big love / act like i don't care what you did" "push the reset button, we're becoming something new" "even if it's handcuffed I'M LEAVING HERE WITH YOUUUUU" no explanations needed just read the lyrics damn

the albatross - "she's the death you chose / you're in terrible danger" cuz it's lia. she NEVER lets go. is that a good or bad thing? you decide idk i'm just a michaelia shipper

chloe or sam or sophia or marcus - "so if you wanna break my cold, cold heart / say you loved me." = "in five seconds, i'm going to tell you that i love you. and if you're still in the room when i say it, you're going to know" + "do you love her?" "longer and better than i've loved you." + "michael knows exactly what lia's feeling. lia knows every time he lies to her. they hurt each other, and they hurt themselves" "relax, dean. i'm fine. (...) if you think i'm going to get all emotional over michael townsend, clearly i've been doing this cold-hearted shrew thing all wrong"

how did it end? - "come one, come all / it's happening again" cuz they keep getting back together and breaking up and repeating

so high school - TOUCH ME WHILE YOUR BROS PLAY GRAND THEFT AUTO (no i will not be elaborating)

i hate it here - "tell me all your secrets / all you'll ever be is / my eternal consolation prize" just say u get it😡

thanK you aIMee - Oh... nope!

i look in people's windows - lia watching cassie and michael's every move because she wants cassie duh

the prophecy - michael wanting someone who loves him for HIM "thought i caught lightning in a bottle, oh but it's gone again" and it's michael and lia breaking up agaignag agagiagnaigagaigangagfjsfgkkds u get it

cassandra - WAIT i'll talk about this with LIA alone

peter - "i thought it was just goodbye for now" but it's after michael and lia broke up and then suddenly he wants cassie omg traitor!!!! "words from the mouths of babes, promises ocean deep / BUT NEVER TO KEEP"

the bolter - if it gets too real they run they self destruct they lie

robin - no...

the manuscript - "he said if the sex was half as good as the conversation was / soon they'd be pushing strollers / but soon it was over" cuz..... they get freaky w it and then STILL break up and come back and again

THIRTY ONE SONGS GUYS!!!! i'm kinda tired so hopefully the point gets across

i forgot the tags: @taylorswiftfostersitagain @y2kinnow @swimmingintragedy @me-h1m

[earhartsease]

see, this is one of the many reasons why it's hard work being disabled

today we'd hosted a nonbinary support group which finished a bit early, so we got into the accessible lift to go down to the ground floor (we're a wheelchair user) - and literally 1 cm before the bottom, the lift failed - and because it hadn't quite hit the ground floor sensor, the door wouldn't open

so we tried all the appropriate buttons and stuff, the voice kept saying "this lift is out of order" in a posh accent, and so we did the next thing which was "press and hold the alarm button for 10 seconds to speak to the call centre" - which also set off the fuckign building alarm *snarl*

which was actually a good thing, because then other people in the building realised we were stuck in there (and luckily we always carry earplugs like the good little neurotrash we are)

we managed to speak to the call centre over the alarm noise, they took our phone number and said they'd send an engineer

then the engineer phoned and said "give my number to someone outside the lift and I can tell them how to turn off the alarm, but I'm two hours away" so at least we got the alarm turned off after the first 15 minutes

and then we called the building emergency number but that just put us through to voicemail so fuck them

so we phoned the shop around the corner, because someone who worked there used to look after the community centre too, but they didn't know how to get hold of anyone - so they just called the fire brigade

firemen showed up 10 minutes later, sussed the scene, went upstairs and figured out how to shut off the lift and reset it - and then we were finally able to shift the lift down that last centimetre and get the door open

luckily we hadn't drunk much as that would have made things way worse, but if we'd been the last person in the building we don't know how the firemen could have got in without smashing the front door down

anyway, home now with treats but bloody hell, and funnily enough this is now the fifth time we've been stuck in a lift, though this was for 30 minutes so not the longest - that was in a hospital lift in london, took them an hour, and again we were on our own so we ended up singing that time because bored

all hail the fire service! they were so sweet, oh and nobody misgendered us during all of this

[mastermindmp3]

imgonnagetyouback

no header we die like men

So, a fun fact about me: I have a physical, burnt CD that I keep songs that play on the idea of "get them back." It is maybe my favorite, favorite double entendre to make.

First of all, I love the stylization of the title? Someone said something about it being a reference to a 1975 song? I actually don't care, I think the all lower case, no spaces presentation of imgonnagetyouback so perfectly encapsulates how she sings it. There's a distinct speed to it, a mischievous side smile to it as well.

Also, god, the vibe of the song is just a little sexy, just a little messy, it's everything I love. The narrator, seeking an ex-flame who ghosted her ( I'm an Aston Martin that you steered straight into a ditch / then ran and hid ) debates his fate.

There's something very... gloat-ish, in it. I can imagine the narrator, two shots deep, grabbing her lover by the jaw, to say, "I could leave you, like a dumb house party, or I might just love you 'till the end."

(Get Him Back - Fiona Apple)

This song tells, I think, a very tight story. The narrator describes a lover who "Knew the price goin' in." who she sees across the bar, after their split. Over the course of her night, she has decided. Even if I'm handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you.

My favorite part, and the most revealing, is the bridge. It's always the bridge! ( I think Swift's songwriting prioritizes the bridge as a moment of revelation, a moment where the "why?" of the song is answered. ) The narrator, in no uncertain terms, sees her lover still wanting her, and sees him as the turn around, the new future. Bygones will be bygone eras, fading into grey.

The narrator thinks that, by getting back with this lover (or by getting back at them) she can "push the reset button, we're becoming something new."

(I'm Gonna Get You Back - Florie)

The bridge's final line also reveals a little bit about how the Narrator sees herself.

Pick your poison babe, I'm poison either way.

The narrator tells her ghosted ex that both options will end badly for him. On one hand, she teases revenge throughout the whole song. Smash your bike / flip you off / curse you out. Or, as a much younger Swift might put it: I wrote a song about you.

On the other hand... There's a tell, there. That she thinks loving her ( pull you into the closet / take you back to my house / be your wife ) is just as poisonous. In a way, maybe the narrator is right. The song's placement directly before The Albatross could be the answer. The narrator sees that trouble will come if he gets back with her, too.

(get him back! - Olivia Rodrigo)

Back on the idea of gloating, though. The song has a bit of Mastermind to it too:

You'll find that you were never not mine.

The narrator feels so totally in control that she will get to decide the fate of this romance. I could take the upper hand. I can tell when someone still wants me. Once you fix your face, I'm goin' in. For a song with such a tight, perfect beat, it works so, so well. I love when the instrumental supports the lyrics.

[66sleepy-moss66]

Colored sketches!!

These three are the Chara, Frisk, and Player from UnderLoss! (Senbi’s AU) Frisk is very much still alive and finally with control of their body again! Chara is very much still dead and attached to/can take control of Frisk, Doin this they smashed the reset button pretty early in the run because they were tired of the resets and thought player was doing a Pacifist run that time. And Player, well, they’re trying to get their hands back in control of frisk, unable to do anything while unattached, as well as the Player trying to fix the reset button.

:3

[argyleheir]

Drabble - Smash

[For Spooktober '24 Day 18 | Prompt: Monster Mash / @dbdpromptober Day 18 | Prompt: Friendship | Fandom: Dead Boy Detectives | Pairing: Edwin/Charles]

"Now go left—no, left—that's it, and jump… now break that barrel! Good! Now climb that ladder—oh my god, Edwin, you're almost there—go, go, that's it!"

Without missing a beat – and with utmost concentration, lest the game reset again – Edwin mashes the buttons as directed—which isn't easy, considering Charles is practically hanging on him, halfway perched on the arcade machine.

Fortunately he's not blocking the screen.

And then: sweet victory.

"Holy shit, Edwin!" Charles crows. "You actually did it!"

Edwin smiles, feeling a flush of pride. "I did. Now what?"

Charles grins too. "Level fucking two."

[ohdorothea]

More information about the tournament here and lyrics are below the cut! Happy voting!!!

imgonnagetyouback lyrics

Lilac short skirt

The one that fits me like skin

Did your research

You knew the price goin' in

And I'll tell you one thing, honey

I can tell when somebody still wants me, come clean

Standing at the bar like something's funny, bubbly

Once you fix your face, I'm goin' in

Whether I'm gonna be your wife or

Gonna smash up your bike, I

Haven't decided yet

But I'm gonna get you back

Whether I'm gonna curse you out or

Take you back to my house, I

Haven't decided yet

But I'm gonna get you back

I hear the whispers in your eyes

I'll make you wanna think twice

You'll find that you were never not mine

You're mine

Small talk, big love

Act like I don't care what you did

I'm an Aston Martin

That you steered straight into the ditch

Then ran and hid

And I'll tell you one thing, honey

I can take the upper hand and touch your body

Flip the script and leave you like a dumb house party

Or I might just love you 'til the end

Whether I'm gonna be your wife or

Gonna smash up your bike, I

Haven't decided yet

But I'm gonna get you back

Whether I'm gonna flip you off or

Pull you into the closet

I haven't decided yet

But I'm gonna get you back

I hear the whispers in your eyes

I'll make you wanna think twice, you'll find

That you were never not mine

You're mine

I can feel it comin', hummin' in the way you move

Push the reset button, we're becoming something new

Say you got somebody, I'll say, "I got someone too"

Even if it's handcuffed, I'm leaving here with you

Bygones will be bygone eras fadin' into gray

We broke all the pieces but still want to play the game

Told my friends, "I hate you but I love you just the same"

Pick your poison, babe

I'm poison either way

Whether I'm gonna be your wife or

Gonna smash up your bike, I

Haven't decided yet

But I'm gonna get you back

Whether I'm gonna curse you out or

Take you back to my house, I

Haven't decided yet

But I'm gonna get you back

I hear the whispers in your eyes

I'll make you wanna think twice

You'll find that you were never not mine

I'm gonna get you back

I Hate It Here lyrics

Quick, quick

Tell me something awful

Like you are a poet

Trapped inside the body of a finance guy

Tell me all your secrets

All you'll ever be is

My eternal consolation prize

You see I was a debutant

In another life, but

Now I seem to be scared to go outside

If comfort is a construct

I don't believe in good luck

Now that I know what's what

I hate it here so I will go to

Secret gardens in my mind

People need a key to get to

The only one is mine

I read about it in a book when I was a precocious child

No mid-sized city hopes and small-town fears

I'm there most of the year 'cause I hate it here

I hate it here

My friends used to play a game where

We would pick a decade

We wished we could live in instead of this

I'd say the 1830s but without all the racists and getting married off for the highest bid

Everyone would look down

'Cause it wasn't fun now

Seems like it was never even fun back then

Nostalgia is a mind's trick

If I'd been there, I'd hate it

It was freezing in the palace

I hate it here so I will go to

Lunar valleys in my mind

When they found a better planet

Only the gentle survived

I dreamed about it in the dark

The night I felt like I might die

No mid-sized city hopes and small-town fears

I'm there most of the year 'cause I hate it here

I hate it here

I'm lonely, but I'm good

I'm bitter, but I swear I'm fine

I'll save all my romanticism for my inner life and I'll get lost on purpose

This place made me feel worthless

Lucid dreams like electricity, the current flies through me and in my fantasies I rise above it

And way up there, I actually love it

I hate it here so I will go to

Secret gardens in my mind

People need a key to get to

The only one is mine

I read about it in a book when I was a precocious child

No mid-sized city hopes and small-town fears

I'm there most of the year 'cause I hate it here

I hate it here

Quick, quick

Tell me something awful

Like you are a poet

Trapped inside the body of a finance guy