#‘I got a razor scooter’

[goldkirk]

being the youngest person on my team by like 10 years sometimes is REALLY obvious because everyone is talking about home construction and high school kid sports and stuff and my weekly update is “I got a Razor scooter and some new glitter paint”

[z00r0p4]

Reject losing weight for looks. Lose weight so you aren’t too heavy for the kick scooter u want.

[moonchildquinn]

warnings!!: alright you know the drill, !!18+ only!!, minors stay tf away or i’ll smack your ankles with a razor scooter (iykyk) slight choking, spanking, orgasm denial, unprotected PIV (wrap that shit folks) slight creampie if you look hard enough, little bit of degrading, a couple pet names and a little surprise at the end. if i missed anything please tell me and i will add it! this is not proofread as none of my fics usually are. i’m a bit rusty on the writing game so if you hate this please keep it to yourself or i’ll cry anyway enjoy! 🤍

word count: 1.7k

idk what to title this so uh just simple:

Older!Mean!Eddie x Fem!Reader!

You sat at the bar, nursing the same drink you ordered since you had got there, scooping out the area for a nice little fuck for the night, but not a single guy in the bar had caught your eye so you sighed ready to give up as you finish your drink. You’re about to pay when a deep raspy voice next to you speaks.

“Could I get you another?” He asked. You looked at him and your breath was taken away. In front of you was one of the most beautiful men you have ever seen. He was older, you could tell by the gray littering his beard. He had long curly, messy hair and his smile lit up the dim bar. You could see he was covered in tattoos and he had his lip pierced as well. He looked like a rockstar. You smile, sad that you’re going to turn him down.

“I was actually about to head out.” You say politely.

“Understandable, have a great night.” He nods his head about to leave but you end up stopping him. You needed to get to know this stranger, you didn’t know why but you just needed to.

“Well one drink wouldn’t hurt I guess.” You say.

“You sure? Don’t feel like you have to be polite and have a drink with me darlin’.” He says.

“I want to, I promise.” You say. He nods his head and calls for the bartender and you both order a drink. You two end up hitting it off, sharing stories and laughs, getting to know each other as the night went on. You were right Eddie was older, a full 20 years older than you but you both didn’t seem to let that get in the way. After a few drinks you got a bit bold and decided to invite him back to your place.

“Sure, I would love to.” He smiles as you both get up. He pays the tab and you both head out.

“You really didn’t have to pay the tab.” You say as you stand there waiting for a ride. Neither of you wanted to get behind the wheel which was smart, obviously.

“I’m the one who offered to get your drinks.” He says.

“A true gentleman huh?” You tease a little.

“Guess my uncle raised me right.” He smiles. A car pulls up and he opens the door for you and lets you in first then follows after you. The car ride was silent but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all. When you get to your apartment, Eddie hops out of the car first and then opens the door for you, holding his hand out for you. You take it and step out and you both walk inside your building. As you both stood in the elevator the tension was growing and you both knew it was. Your patience was running thin, you just wanted him to fuck you.

The elevator doors open and you walk down the hall to your apartment and as soon as you get the door unlocked Eddie is pushing you in and closing the door before pinning you against it and kissing you deeply. You moan softly as your hands come up and you tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging slightly as you do causing him to groan out. Well you got exactly what you wanted, a nice fuck. Eddie brings his hands down and grabs your thighs in his hands and picks you up and carries you over to the couch. He sets you down but you get up and grab his shirt and drag him to your bedroom. You push him down onto the bed and straddle his lap and kiss him, the desperate need to have his lips on yours growing stronger. His hands go down to your ass and squeezes hard causing you to moan out into the kiss.

“Fuck me, please.” You beg. He nods his head and moves you off of him.

“Strip for me.” He breathes out and you do. Eddie’s eyes watch you as you slowly remove your clothes, his cock growing harder by the second. Once you are naked he pulls you down on his lap, placing his hand around your throat and having you look at him. “Want to have a little more fun?”

“Yes.” You breathe out. At this point you would agree to anything. Eddie smirks at your agreement and kisses you hard. He brings his free hand down and rubs his fingers along your soaked slit, groaning at the feeling. He does that for a bit, causing you to become a whiny mess for him. Finally he slips two fingers in and starts off slow.

“Here’s how this is going to play out, you’re not allowed to cum until I say you can, if you disobey me you’ll be punished, understand?” He asked you. Chills go down your body as you nod your head. “I need to hear you.”

“I understand.” You whisper.

“Good girl.” He picks up the pace of his fingers ever so slightly, his grip on your throat getting a little tighter as he does, adding to your pleasure. His fingers move expertly inside of you and you feel like you’re on cloud nine. Your eyes roll back slightly as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to your orgasm. You’re so focused on the movement on his fingers that you forget his rule and you cum all over his fingers. You grip his shirt tightly in your hands as you mindlessly rock against his fingers. Eddie watches you ride out your high, anger boiling up inside of him. He had one simple rule and you couldn’t be bothered to listen to him. Once you come back to him, your face heats up as you look at him, shame written all over your face.

“I’m sorry.” You say.

“It's okay angel.” Eddie lies through his teeth as he helps you up. “Get on your hands and your knees for me.” He demands, his tone sends a shiver down your spine a little and also goes straight to your core. You do as told and get on your hands and knees. You hear Eddie riding himself of his clothes before he gets behind you. He grabs your hips and pulls you against him, making you gasp as you not only feel how hard he is but feel how big he is. Was it even going to fit? Eddie chuckles slightly at your reaction. “It’ll fit, don’t worry. Now remember how I told you if you didn’t listen to me you would be punished?” Your heart drops instantly.

“But you said it was okay.” You whimper out.

“And you said you understand, it looks like we both lied.” He smirks before he brings his hand up and spanks you, hard. You yelp out, barely processing it before he’s spanking you again and again. “Such a pathetic little thing, couldn’t handle one simple order could you?”

“I’m sorry.” You say, your voice more whiny than you meant for it to sound.

“I’m sorry.” Eddie mocks. He continues to spank you until your ass is raw and tears are spilling down your face. Once he’s done he presses your face down into the mattress and slides his cock into you with ease, the stretch burning slightly but feeling so good at the same time it basically knocks the wind from your chest. He keeps his hand on your head and his other hand grips onto your hip as he sets a brutal pace. Your body feels ignited as your eyes roll back and loud moans leave your lips.

“Mmm fuck! You feel so good angel, so fucking good!” Eddie groans out. You want to respond but he was just fucking you too good that all that you could manage was moans, whines, and whimpers. You could feel another orgasm building and Eddie could tell you were close too from the way you squeezed him. Just as that feeling was about to snap Eddie pulled out.

“No!” You cry out.

“Oh you thought the spanks were your only punishment? Oh no, I’m not done with you quite yet.” He says. He brings his hand down and starts rubbing your clit causing you to whine out. If he didn’t want you to cum why must he torture you? You could feel yourself ready to go over the edge again but he stops once again.

“Eddie please!” You beg.

“Should have obeyed me the first time, then you wouldn’t be in this position now would you?” He asked.

“I’m sorry!” You plead.

“And I told you I don’t care, now shut up!” He snaps and you keep your mouth shut after that. Eddie keeps his little game going for hours, getting you really close to the edge and then stopping. By now you were a mess and you just wanted to cum. Eddie smirks at how he has you before he finally slides his cock into you again and starts up his brutal pace. Your voice was a bit horse as you continued to let out moan, knowing that once again you weren’t going to be cumming. You could feel your orgasm growing and you waited for Eddie to pull away but he didn’t.

“I’m going to cum!” You whine out, hoping the warning will alert him.

“Cum for me angel.” He rasps. You cry out as you cum, hard, all over his cock, relief filling you as you finally get your release. Eddie keeps going, coaxing a few more orgasms from you before he finally cums himself. He groans loudly before he pulls out, his cock twitching slightly as he watches his cum drip down a little before he uses his fingers to push it back in. You both collapse down on the bed, catching your breaths before you both look at each other, wide smiles on your faces.

“Holy shit that was amazing.” You finally breathe out.

“I told you roleplaying was fun, just have to know how to do it right.” Eddie says, making you nod your head in agreement. “I wasn’t too rough was I?”

“Never.” You smile as you scoot closer to your boyfriend and snuggle into him. “Thanks for this.”

“Told you I would do anything for you, now rest for a bit then I promise to get you cleaned up.” He kisses your forehead, a smile on his face and smile to match on yours.

[moonshynecybin]

how are the academy kids with teen mom marc's daughter? because most of them are only a few years younger than marc, do they only start getting attached once she's a few years old? none of them are on the babysitting list, right?

also, the question of all questions, will marc's daughter get siblings at one point or another? 👀

this is interesting 2 me because like. if marc brings that baby to the ranch (he does. they do that dumb little track tour with marc in his tight little t-shirt and vale balancing her on his hip) then pecco luca and franky KNOW HER pre-divorce. and probably wave to her around the paddock and say hi but also like. they arent super close to marc so i cant imagine they feel tooooo comfy just going up and saying hi to his baby during the divorce years when theyre in the feeder championship... ALTHOUGH. maybe because pecco and franky were alex's teammates at one point they get to know her as that way... saying hi to his niece that says hi to him before his races... waving her little baby fist... like i REALLY dont think they get on the babysitter list (it is. marquez family. santi. dani. LATER dovi and sometimes jorge. vale. literally never fabio but he does LOVE that little girl and they DO hang out. just. supervised.) but they do love to say hiiiiii when shes zooming around the paddock on her razor scooter and bedazzled helmet... shes determinedly planting her feet outside the yamaha garage and like. monologuing to vale about what she had for breakfast while he active listen faces at her and bezz is standing there RELUCTANTLY CHARMED.

i DO think it changes when they all get to be coworkers with marc in their own right! and develop more of an individual relationship with him. like time has passed at that point and she's a precocious little thrillseeking terror with an evil little delighted marquez jajajaja laugh and a genuine attachment to vale. so YEAH marc is helicopter mom-ing but shes definitely got a mind of her own and i think she wants to say HIIII to people. especially ones she's known forever at this point. and shes kept outside of the media circus of the rosquez cold war for the most part so i think she has good relationships with luca (calm and always very friendly) pecco (will clearly explain engineering things to her without talking down) and franky (teases her very kindly like he does to cele in that one video)... i think later on her favorite is bezz because he has a BIG DOG (novel to a little girl surrounded by weenie dogs her whole goddamn life) and will indulge her thrillseeking tendencies in ways that vale and marc still feel weird about

[seat-safety-switch]

Imperator Butterpants, my charge for the weekend, had treed a squirrel in the park. Normally, I would help out the dog - that’s what is humans are for - but there’s a complication. A nearby toddler birthday party would be ruined by the sight of my aunt’s Pomeranian ripping a domestic rodent in half for fun. That’s the tragedy of the commons, right there. Exactly what Plato was talking about.

As a result, I squat gently and prepare myself to pick up the dog in a caring embrace. This feels natural, comforting. I am communing with my ancestors who tamed his ancestors, and in a moment I will have experienced the sensation of another living thing obeying my demands. Nothing doing. Butterpants turns around, snaps at my face, and dislodges my 3M Tekk P100 respiratory-particulate-protection bayonet fitting mask slightly. We are going home, I declare to a dog that does not understand English.

Luckily for me, I have prepared a vessel for transporting the dog. It is a sidecar consisting of an old bumper car, hastily welded with leftover Home Depot fence strapping (don't worry, I ground off most of the galvanization) to the side of a Razor Pocket Mod child's electric scooter. Well, I say "child's," but we both know that's some bullshit that I trot out to make the cop think it's impossible that I break the speed limit on this pink piece of plastic. In actuality, I know that there is no way that the officer is tuned-in enough to electronic engineering to realize that the several hundred pounds of lithium ion phosphate pouch batteries ziptied together under the seat is easily enough stored energy to launch this thing into low earth orbit should I decide to whack the throttle bare open. Plus, it means I can ride in the bike lane, which is good. Have you seen what kind of maniacs drive cars?

Despite what I just told you, I pin the throttle nonetheless, knowing that the aggregate resistance of the battery cables momentarily turning to a liquid will act as a sort of dynamic throttle control. We are off, both figuratively and literally. You might have encountered in the past a dog wearing "doggles," which is a portmanteau of the word "dog" and "goggles." Eye protection for dogs is absolutely critical at these kinds of velocities, and it is for that reason that I have placed a welding mask on the muzzle of my aunt's dog, protecting him from impacts with bugs, gravel, and other multi-use-pathway users.

We get home in quite a hurry, so much so that I have to use my neighbour's garden hose to extinguish the foam-rubber tires bonded to the rear hub motor. Imperator Butterpants is dazed initially, having reached a land speed formerly only attempted by dogs named Laika, but soon recovers. And, hey! We got that squirrel after all, although I'm pretty sure I'll have to peel it off of the welding mask and run it through a strainer before I can put it in with his Ol' Roy.

[itgirlgyu]

COLGATE CRUSH | choi beomgyu.

pairing: beomgyu x fem!reader ft. huening kai.

genre: fluff, crack.

summary : because of your undeniable curiousity, and lack of survival instincts you end up meeting the junoesque artist, choi beomgyu, and his oddities.

word count: 1.4k.

warnings: illogical made up professions, there's some violence (one line), reader is very curious, beomgyu thinks he got rizz.

"this is how i might end up dead someday."

you had no concrete idea how you found yourself in front of a building undergoing construction; especially when it looked like there might have been a case of aggravated assault etching the history of the eerie institution.

the very first thing that you can recollect was probably the chime of the ice cream man that lured you into an empty alley lined up by the blossoms blessed by spring, and the gentle breeze of nonage, and once you had got your hands on the vanilla cone, you kept wondering into the strange place. curious eyes marveling the unfamiliarity of the street, until of course you found yourself standing in front of the said building.

'if i see no sign from the heavens preventing me from entering this sketchy building then I'll probably still be alive,' is what you thought right before you nearly got trampled by two idiots in a razor scooter with one of them holding a giant rock in his hands, yelling some things along the lines of, "ill bash his head in with this!"

you may have been lucky enough to get your feet trampled over that death vehicle, but that was not the case for another person walking along the road. the man, victim, laid on the floor while holding his feet as some brilliantly colorful curse words flew over his mouth and the two offenders, standing there while profusely apologized to the man.

this would have been a supposed sign from god if you were gifted with the blessings of being self aware—but since that had not been the case for you, along with the fact that your bad luck had bled onto the other person— you were pretty sure of the fact that instead of warning you of any impending danger that awaited you depending on your action, has been warded off successfully.

so you step inside of the damned property; breaking off the sheath of protection, and entering the land of foreign, filled with nothing but cement, and broken debris of bricks. there had been nothing new to explore, plus the added anxiety of hurting yourself at every step increased the pace of your heartbeat; and you couldn't deny the fact that it didn't excite you.

amongst the mucronate end of iron rods sticking out, and half made walls your eyes captured something—a single panel of windows installed. it intrigued you as you approached it cautiously, stepping over the sharp objects laid on the dirty floor, your eyes focused on the peculiar scratching on the glass. the crack swirling into an enchanting ornate design as if it had been crafted by hands, and not born out of a misjudged trifling accident. the broken rays of sun streaming through the gaps of the cracks casting a riveting image onto the floor with you as its muse, compelling you to move closer to learn more about it's unrivaled individuality.

"its so beautiful," you couldn't help but wonder out loud, as your fingers dipped into the clementine shadow the drowning sun casted onto your fingers through the art before you, carefully enough not to go close to the sharp edges of the charmer.

"isn't it?" you twirled around almost immediately to the owner of the voice, and maybe turning around that fast might have not been the best idea as your lungs empty the air out of your system—or that might have been the breathtaking beauty of the mystery man before you with the healthiest long hair you've ever seen, and the most precious lips.

"uh-" you paused, words failing you as you fumbled in front of the beautiful stranger, but maybe the god was actually on your side today. instead of scowling at you for trespassing, or coming off as a creep, he actually laughed at your awestruck expression, as he slightly adjusted his bangs. alluring bruises, and adorable band aids covering the expanse of his winsome hands stirring awake the incessant need to know about the beautiful stranger before you.

maybe his eyes caught the way your gaze followed the movement of his hands, and he somehow smelled of your curiosity as he put on a bewitching smirk, and took a step closer.

"I'm beomgyu, i actually am a professional window scratcher." the beautiful stranger, beomgyu, introduced himself, putting forth his hand for you to shake. you gently put your hands in his, providing him with the confidence to sneak in a squeeze before he lets go.

there's exactly two thoughts swirling in your head: first was the pride that swelled in your heart for recognising art when you first saw it. you're just one step away from becoming the next best socialite at this rate, and the second one was the fact you were almost flirting with one of the prettiest men you've ever come across who is actually the creator of the art as well!

"you-" you stumbled on your words as your eyes widen to hide your excitement—calming the high pitch in your voice you turned around to point to the art, and face him, " you made this?"

beomgyu nodded, the halcyon lines of his eyes tugging at the ends of his lips, as the cheeky smirk melted into a smile dipped in fondness. unbeknownst to the both of you, he took another step closer to you.

"oh i forgot to introduce myself," you chided yourself, and gave him your name.

"that's a pretty name," he commented, "for a pretty girl."

you could assume that he had the full view of your blushing cheeks by the way his lips tugged at the corner. you tried to hush away all the butterflies that started to emerge into your stomach at his silly comments you know he doesn't even mean.

"im being truthful, you're the most beautiful girl I've laid my eyes on," He comes in closer, and closer—until there's only a shy line of invisible distance between the two of you, taunting you for it's presence. even though it feels wrong, you feel like it's the right thing to do, so you look up at his starry eyes, through your eyelashes to show your approval.

words held not much of importance of the strings of your heart tangled, and you could feel beomgyu tugging yours as he gently grabbed the sides of your lips and pulled you close to him.

what you had not expected from this comely artist to have the stinkiest breath that you ever had the misfortune to smell. you tried your best to hold your breath as he moved closer to you. the unbearable stench of filth assaulted the inside of your nostrils—you could hear the sizzle of your nose hair burning off in the acidic smell of his breath—but you persisted for your new found love, well until he opened his mouth, that's when the world blacked out as the lack of oxygen, and the insufferable smell of his mouth knocked you out of consciousness, and to some degree, your misery.

"if you're afraid to come closer to your loved one because of the fear of something like this happening," huening kai, korea's best mc appeared into the camera holding a mic to his mouth, as he pointed at your unconscious self, and a hyperventilating beomgyu holding your pinky with his own as he cried your name, praying for you to wake up.

"don't worry because we have the perfect solution!" huening kai held up a packet of colgate next to his face, staring straight into the camera with a grin with a similar voidity of the black hole—might not be wholesome but at least it sucks you in!

"colgate—no need to be afraid to fall in love!" huening kai explained, and threw the packet at beomgyu, who caught it and brushed his teeth immediately. as soon as the paste touched his teeth, it's as if life was breathed into you by some miraculous spells. your body jolting forward, as you lovingly gazed at beomgyu and the foam in his mouth, almost dripping as he shook in happiness to see you conscious. you giggled at his excitement, and scooped some of the foam that was holding onto it's life by his chin and put it back into his teeth.

"i was so scared of losing you," beomgyu cried out, splattering you with the foam, but you didn't mind as his minty fresh love coated your skin. coloring you ivory in his love—this time you closed the gap between you two and smelled the scent of love directly from the source.

" i will never leave you."

"curating love stories all around!" huening kai yelled, holding up the the colgate as he wiggled his squatted body to come to the center of the camera in order to block you and beomgyu, "colgate!"

"AND THAT'S A WRAP!"

NOꕀT. ִֶָ E : COLGATE SPONSOR ME?!?!!?

i know ive been awfully ia that's why i really wanted to comeback with a writing as awful as this,, but this idea! is so dear to heart because my favourite writer and my best friend came up with this and i just had to write it!! sometimes ill get her on tumblr one day for sure!!! PS the pedestrian the two dumbasses ran over was yeonjun, and the two dumbasses were soobin and taehyun. taehyun being the one with the big ass rock.

PERM〞TAGLIST— @impureperhaps

©ITGIRLGYU—feedbacks are so so so appreciated and ill love you forever!!

[newtonsheffield]

how does Kate find out that Anthony was bothered about her possibly leaving BFR in the documentary? (also, do they watch the show together??)

Kate and Anthony actually do watch the new season of the Netflix doco.

Kate didn't give any interviews this season but Anthony did and Kate's a little curious, honestly.

"I'm not going to watch it with you." Anthony chuckled, nuzzling her neck gently as they lay together on the sofa, their legs intertwined. "I know you're obsessed with me, but watching me on the screen is a bit much. Especially when there're so many more interesting things I'd be willing to do for you."

Kate narrowed her eyes, "What don't you want me to see?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Anthony scoffed taking out his moustache comb and combing his moustache with one eye open, watching its effect on her.

Kate wavered for a moment, "Don't use that moustache to distract me. You know I can't resist it."

"How dare you accuse me of such underhanded tactics." Anthony looked offended, "But now that you mention it, my poor little moustache is perhaps a little lonely and cold and maybe you could warm him up for me."

"We're watching it." Kate sighed, "And then, based on what you say about me, I'll decide if he deserves it."

"You look cute." Kate hummed, as Anthony's face appeared on the screen grinning in the dark set.

"I'm Anthony Bridgerton and I drive for Bridgerton Family Racing. We're back for season 2, baby!"

And she watches it unfold, with Anthony's voice over, with Edmund's.

"We've got a new chief engineer this year, Kate, and we're super excited to have her on board." Edmund paused, "Well, Anthony's ... adjusting. It's sort of hilarious to watch his flustered little face."

There were dozens of shots of them, Interspersed throughout, Kate and Anthony bickering in the paddock, Anthony lifting her up in excitement, her grinning and trying to hide it as he flipped off the nose of his car.

"Um yeah," Anthony said in his interview, blushing a little furiously. "Kate and I had a rocky start but um... yeah. We've found a rhythm, I really like her."

"And the rumours about you and her?" The producer asked off screen and Anthony's ears went bright red.

"Cute." Kate nodded, kissing his forehead. "You're really cute."

The Anthony on the screen cleared his throat, "There's... we're not in a relationship."

"Do you want to be?"

Anthony's face screwed up clearly embarrassed, "Um yeah, I'd love if we were in a relationship. You're going to cut this right?"

Kate watched as the tone changed and the fluttering in her chest stopped.

"And how do you feel about the fact she might leave BFR?"

Anthony's face fell, "I um... yeah I don't... I don't really want her to leave. But Kate's her own person and she has to do what's best for her and her career. I'll be happy for her, if wat's best for her isn't at BFR. I just... I want her to be happy."

Kate paused it, sitting up and tugging Anthony with her. He was blushing a little, avoiding her eyes but his arm was still wrapped around her waist.

"Is this what you were trying to hide?"

Anthony shrugged, "Honestly, I thought they'd cut it."

"And you were worried I'd find out that you were a huge, supportive sweetheart who only wanted the best for me?" Kate chuckled, nudging his cheek with her nose.

"I... well... you already know that now!" Anthony said defensively. "And I was actually worried you were going to find out that I am the one who broke your headset."

"Oh I knew it!"

"I was on my scooter and I just accidentally knocked it off."

"You are a grown man with a razor scooter!"

"You think I'm cute!"

"I actually do." Kate sighed, "And what d'you know, poor little moustache is looking a little lonely."

And the very next year Kate sits down and watches herself on the screen.

"First one of these, little nervous."

"You're doing great," The producer said, "Just tell us your name and what you do."

Kate cleared her throat, "I'm Kate Sharma, I'm the principal engineer for Bridgerton Family Racing and I run race day for Anthony."

"And who is Anthony Bridgerton?"

"He is the current world formula one world champion." She let a smile spread over her face, "Oh, and he's my husband."

"Congratulations." The producer said and the crew clapped.

"Yes, we got married in Monaco in May." Kat watched herself smile, "Super happy, he's very sweet and... you guys saw how obsessed he was last season. So I'm ready to show that this is an equal-obsession marriage."

"What's your favourite thing about Anthony?"

Kate paused for a second before she sighed, "He's going to make fun of me because I made fun of him: But ladies, date a moustache boy."

[9w1ft]

wow your gaylor anon does sound well-meaning, but very lost on this blog from their usual side of the internet I’d guess!

I’m particularly bamboozled by those three songs being used as kaylor breakup evidence. well, less so exile, I can see how they got there even if I have a different interpretation of it (mourning the called-off coming out, and having to go deeper into the love blackout, ruminating on the fans view of her closet). but mtr!? clearly about scott b! the stolen lullabies, the jewels she gave him as his main cash cow? the pain of that betrayal by a father figure!! also the funeral procession choreo - ties nicely into your point about taylor wearing black for the stolen masters. there’s also a long history of writing romantic-coded ‘break up songs’ for your label, think dolly parton etc. and mad woman?! the obvious scooter and yael diss track where taylor outs his cheating (which potentially contributed to their divorce not long after). does anon completely miss the feminist angle of ‘this man gaslights me by calling me mad and overreactive, so I’ll show him a real mad woman’ ???? (+ karlie as the taylor-faced neighbour who secretly mouths ‘fuck you’ at him)

I know we’re all known for reaching in the gaylor-sphere, but by occam’s razor, I feel like you have to do some real twisting to believe those ones aren’t about those men.

(I actually wrote out my personal interpretation of each song in more depth but it’s wayy too long, and probably just a repeat of opinions anon could find on this blog and others in this ecosystem. anon has given me far too many thoughts to write on my lunch break rn lol)

yeah i didn’t address the song choices but mtr is a wild one for sure. and mad woman i’ve talked about a lot but really i think that song is actually proof in favor of the idea that they didn’t break up in 2019. plus the thing about the i can and i will necklace.

exile too, especially when you couple it with the other bon iver duet (evermore) and think about the context of the election in 2016 (upon which karlie got exiled in a way) and again in 2020 (taylor connected evermore to the feeling of knowing biden would win over trump, and knowing the pain wouldn’t be for evermore), and idk it just makes so much sense in the context of how their relationship would have had to adapt and change over the years, without having to be about breaking up.

i’m not saying anon thinks any one certain way but i do think that gaylors in general have, of their own volition and they’re happy to tell you, positioned gaylorism as something focused on the exploration of the gayness of taylor’s lyrics and of it being ‘museless’ and i would suggest that while there is value to this sort of think in a vacuum, by refuting other analysis unfortunately this ‘lens’ often makes for a contextless interpretation of so many of taylor’s songs. like if you think about the political angle and the times taylor was in or karlie was in throughout this specific span of time, a lot of these sad song just make so much sense! maathp makes sense! maroon makes sense! exile makes sense, hoax makes sense, mad woman makes sense, vigilante shit makes sense, any number of songs make a whole lot of sense. i don’t think that this is something offensive to taylor like… in essence kaylor is an attempt to understand the impetus behind the artist, her motivations, and what inspired her to create so much of this art. idk, im babbling a bit again it’s just. ahh… there’s just so much meaning that gets lost in the gaylor process i feel.

[yourgrantaire]

im rewatching the smosh liveshow and i wanted to keep track of my favorite moments so they are below the cut

angela's tippy tappy toes of joy at amanda's new jersey voice

amanda's "LOOK IT UP" for increasingly unrealistic things, and ending it with "are you at peace are you at peace are you at peace hello areyouatpeaceareyouatpeaceareyouatpeace anthony areyouatpeace DON'T GOOGLE ME"

tommy's "only a tragic life could lead to looking like if a motorcycle was gay ... i can say that, i'm a motorcycle" and him saying the meaning of anthony's tattoos was so that he could fuck goth girls. oh and how could i forget describing angela as an "amber alert on rollerblades"

the cool ass music when the guests came on, made by tommy bowe i think? i honestly would listen to the music from the show all on its own

brandon rogers' "let's. eat. anthony!" and then making a very emphatic pitch as to why it would be a great idea

THE HALF-TIME SHOW OF COURSE. i know that they mostly won't post the show on youtube but i really really hope they post the half-time show

also a detail i just noticed is josh playing that escalating carnival "do do do do!" when chanse and keith got iced

dan and phil's extremely explicit video message with dan's repeated references to jerking off onto anthony's sexy calendar

courtney as bikini girl while still wearing doc martins. and there's something about the rhythm of "get you a girl who can do both two things two one time! :D" that is so funny, as well as "women are so scawwy ooohh!! what's under your blouse, two perfectly round GUNS? OHH!!"

rhett and link showing up standing menacingly in the doorway, and their tag line being "A Jesus and a Lesbian Woman"

the multiple "ian loves drinking breast milk" jokes

the chosen: "you're probably wondering why i look so badass right now. its because we are on the cusp of the greatest battle in the entire history of the universe.

and also i got queso on my three wolf moon shirt.

and i fell off my razor scooter on the way here."

i am glad that even though they made him look cool as fuck, shayne still emphasized that the chosen is not nearly as cool as he thinks he is.

"worst of all, anthony padilla HAD SEX!" and then quoting the star wars prequels lmao

also shayne singing without any self consciousness was very funny to me, but i can't put my finger on what the song was

ian saying i love you but having to say it in a silly voice (and in the after show anthony saying he can say i love you back to ian because unlike ian, he's actually said it before)

anthony's joke about how he expected everyone to roast him about his "dick piercing" and the entire audience going "wait wait, go back to that, what did you just say" and him moving on with no further comment

anthony to shayne: "i won't talk about how you were once known for your promising tv career and now you're known for wearing a t-shirt with limes on it''

chanse just full on horror movie screaming when anthony said arasha was in an ad for a republican dating app. also arasha's faces for everything were so great

keith full on responding whenever someone addresses him (and sometimes reacts out loud just because), he did this in the other funerals as well but it delights me every time

anthony saying chanse slides into his dms all the time, and chanse immediately replying "you respond, bitch!" (and then later anthony saying that chanse can go with mythical and he "can call link daddy now" but "watch out, [chanse] dms")

i loved anthony's reference to tommy's show serving cunt

anthony to amanda: "you're like if jessica rabbit drove a mini van"

anthony to ian: "one thing we all know about ian is he might have some trouble showing emotions" ian proceeds to stare deadpan into the camera. it was fun watching ian's reactions because often he wouldn't react to a lot of it or he would react as part of the bit, i've already forgotten the one thing that he really reacted to, fuck so i might have to rewatch it again

and then my favorite part of the aftershow was amanda and tommy continuously leaning in to make out and then saying "no save it for the parking lot, save it for the parking lot", and no they were not going to go anywhere, they were going to stay in the parking lot at smosh and make out in the car

[iboatedhere]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for the tag @anincompletelist @lightningboltreader @liminalmemories21 @lemonlyman-dotcom

Everything I’ve written lately is…..NOT GREAT…….it feels bad, it looks bad, it is bad, and the first chapter of The Roman Holiday AU will be up January 1st regardless ✌️

—

The first surprise greets them on the street just outside Alex’s door.

A red Vespa is tucked against the curb, a helmet hanging off each of the handles.

“Safety first,” Alex says as he tosses one of the helmets at Henry. “You might need to take the hat off.”

“I’m sorry,” Henry says, looking down the empty street as Alex fastens his own helmet. “Is there meant to be a second scooter around here somewhere?”

“Nope.”

“So you expect us to share?”

Alex nods. “That’s right.”

Henry hums. “Why aren’t we taking a taxi or an Uber, or walking?”

“Taxis and Ubers mean waiting around for them to show up and I don’t care how long your legs are, we cannot walk the entirety of Rome in a day. This is the fastest and easiest way to get around.”

“And you’ve driven one of these before?”

“In a manner of speaking, yes.”

“What manner?”

“I’m familiar with scooters.”

Henry narrows his eyes.

“I had a Razor Scooter when I was nine.”

“Oh my god.”

“Vespa’s are so much safer,” Alex cries.

“How is that possible? This has a motor!”

“And Razors would fuck up your ankles. You should’ve seen my shins that whole year. The bruises never healed.”

“I would rather have a bruised ankle than a concussed head.”

“That’s what the helmet is for,” Alex says. “Now c’mon.” He swings one leg over the scooter and sits down. “We’re wasting time.”

“It’s six thirty in the morning.”

“Which means we’re already behind schedule.” Alex starts the scooter. “Get on or I’ll leave you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

The scooter jolts away from the curb and Henry grabs Alex’s shoulder and climbs on behind him, tightening the straps of the helmet as he goes.

He’s unsure what to do with his hands—if he should put them on Alex’s hips, waist, or shoulders, and after fumbling awkwardly, Alex heaves a sigh and reaches back, wrapping Henry’s arms around his waist.

“You have to hold on like you mean it,” Alex tells him. “Tight.”

Henry shifts forward so his chest is flush to Alex’s back and he holds his hands together over Alex’s stomach, beneath the light fabric of his open button down but over the soft cotton undershirt.

Alex is solid and warm and smells like cedar smoke and spice and Henry feels him take a sharp breath as he moves even closer.

“Is this okay?” Henry asks, his lips dangerously close to the shell of Alex’s ear.

Alex swallows and nods. “Do you feel safe?”

Henry does.

“Good,” Alex says. He stops and blows out a breath. “That’s good. We should…” He trails off and lifts his foot off the pavement and the Vespa jolts forward again, this time by accident. “I got it,” he says when Henry flinches. “I got it, I got it, I was just fucking with you.”

“I’d prefer it if you didn’t.”

“Yeah, well,” Alex says as he gives it another go. “We’ll see.”

[saltycharacters]

[ID: Mix of traditional pen and digital doodles, featuring both hand practice and the artist working as a middle school IA. The first page showcases hands in various positions and holding different objects. The second is a compilation of little comics and such, spanning from kids acting silly, to his razor scooter trapping his pant leg, to him thinking about his pets and food, to him dancing as various animals. The last image is a two-panel comic, the first of which has the artist sitting next to two middle school students as they work on laptops. One of the students asks, "Where did he go?" to which the artist replies, "Took him to the nurses office, he's resting there". A follow up question from the student, "What's wrong with him?" is addressed with, "Not sure, I couldn't stay". Then the next panel has the student grinning smugly as they conclude, "He died. Hehe", to which the artist says with an amused exhasperation, "He did NOT die". End ID]

Work doodles! I've been a middle school bilingual IA, and I already got a ton of silly and fond memories because kids are Kids and always have funny stuff to say and ofc I had to draw em :]

[anjaelle]

White Light | Part VII

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Pairing: Ghost!Aaron Taylor-Johnson x Black!Reader Warnings: Language, mentions of previously un shown sex, mentions of blood and death Word Count: 2K Summary: Some questions get answered. But what comes next?

[Part I] | [Part II] | [Part III] | [Part IV] | [Part V] | [Part VI] | [☁Masterpost ☁] | [♫The Crimson Zombies Mixtape ♫]

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

It was nearly one in the afternoon, and you were just waking up.

You couldn't remember the details of the dream you had. You just remember darkness and the eerie sound of shallow breathing. You couldn't quite place where it was coming from. It felt like it was all around you, no matter how much you turned.

And then you felt kisses trailing down the valley of your back. You could hear the chirping of birds and peeked open one eye to bright sunlight peeking through the blinds.

In the back of your mind, you could still hear the shallow breaths. But they were quickly pushed away by the feeling of calloused fingers gently tracing circles into your shoulder blades.

You felt your cheeks warm up at the memory of the night before. Two thoughts crossed your mind at once: First, you crossed a major boundary and you knew there would be consequences. Nature would have your ass on a platter. Second, you felt so much weaker. It wasn't quite the same level of hungover you felt the last time, but you felt like you could barely move. Like all the energy had been pulled from you. You remembered hearing his heartbeat. You felt his pulse thrum under the delicate skin of his throat when you pulled him in for a deep kiss. And you could remember the grip of his hands on you when he got down on his knees and buried his head between your thighs. You glanced over at the windowsill, noting the lonely wine glass and chipped paint and acknowledging the macabre irony of fucking a man in the same spot he died.

You felt...off.

"How did you get this scar?" Aaron suddenly asked. His voice had a subtle gruffness to it, like he'd just woken up from sleep.

"I cut myself on a fence when I was a kid," you explained after clearing your throat, "I was riding a scooter and I fell into the fence wiring."

He sucked air between his teeth, empathetically.

"Ouch." He paused for a beat and then said, "I remember seeing kids and their Razor scooters riding all over the city. Started outnumbering skateboards at one point."

You giggled, "You sound like an old man."

He ran his fingers along your back as if they were the strings of an acoustic guitar, pausing only to chuckle at your teasing.

"I'm supposed to be an old man, technically." You turned just in time to watch as Aaron stretched out beside you on your bed like he'd worked a 12 hour shift and hadn't slept in years. Your eyes lingered on new scars that you hadn't noticed before, decorating his elbows and fists. You noticed a few birthmarks along his torso, and you reached out to touch them.

He felt warm.

It was fascinating watching the way he seemed to navigate the space like nothing was wrong. Like he wasn't permanently stuck in 2003, and like he hadn't died at all. Maybe it was all an illusion. A trick of the mind. Or you were dreaming.

"Do you ever think about the fact that there was period when we were alive at the same time?" You suddenly said.

He didn't say anything, but he let out a low hum in thought. It was the first time it ever occured to either of you that you could've crossed paths at least once before.

"I'd like to think that in another life," he admitted, "you'd probably run into me in the street somewhere."

You couldn't help the grin that pulled at your lips, "You'd probably be an absolute DILF in that alternate timeline."

He laughed. It was the liveliest laugh you'd ever heard from him which surprised you, but caused a giggle to bubble out of you. His bright eyes crinkled in the corners, and you swore you could see joy radiating from every inch of his face.

"What's so funny?"

"I just didn't expect you to say that."

You reached over to push his hair away from his forehead, "I'm just surprised you know what the term DILF means, considering you're old and all."

Aaron rolled his eyes, "I know what MILF means. I can use context clues. I'm not that old."

You yawned, tucking your hand under your cheek on your pillow, "Okay, grandpa."

He watched you curiously as you meandered around the apartment over the course of the day. You looked exhausted. You had a muted exuberance about you that concerned him. And as he reached out to rub your shoulder, he was surprised at cool your skin was.

"Are you alright?"

"Mhm," you mumbled, "just tired."

It'd been well over an hour since you slowly pulled yourself out of bed and started your day. You seemed completely out of it. You pulled your book and laptop from the shelf and slowly shuffled back over to your bedside desk. He wandered to the window, leaning against the ledge and looking you over with concern.

"So are we just not gonna talk about what happened?" He asked, crossing his arms.

You rested your head in your hand, keeping your attention on your notebook.

"We fucked," you said plainly, "I don't know how it happened. But it did. Somehow you're corporeal form is quite real here. Maybe I did some mystical...fucking...necromancy with my vagina. I don't have the answers. I'm trying."

You swallowed hard. He could see concern on your face, but deep down he felt a little hurt and confused by the sudden switch in demeanor.

"You regret it."

"No," you immediately countered. When you finally looked at him, he could see exhaustion and fear in your eyes, but also the flicker of something else entirely. "I'm sorry. I'm just...I don't know."

"If you do, it's okay."

"I don't," you said firmly, "I just don't know what happens next. I feel like there's a guillotine over my head. I don't know what to do here."

He glanced down at the painted wood under his hands and absentmindedly picked at the chipped paint while you spoke.

"I don't regret it either," he admitted, shrugging, "I'd do it again if I could. But not if it hurts you."

This conversation felt so childish, he thought to himself. Like two teenagers who fumbled around in the backseat and got caught. He would laugh if the circumstances weren't so dire.

"I felt a heartbeat," he said, pulling a large chip of white paint off of the wood, "Did you feel it too?"

"Kind of."

"You were way too calm about it."

"I was kind of distracted."

You said nothing else, but he could tell that the gears were whirring in that pretty head of yours. He heard the rapid click of the keys and the scribble of pen on paper.

He scraped more paint off of the windowsill when something caught his eye. Etched under layers of paint, he noticed a small arrow carved into the wood. He pulled more paint off, exposing another arrow intersecting the first. If he could feel his heartbeat again, he knew it'd be thrumming like crazy. He jumped down from the ledge, fingering the etching with a shaking hand.

"Wait..." he suddenly said, mumbling to himself, "Wait, wait, wait....wait. No, that's...that can't fucking be it."

"What is it?"

He rushed to the kitchen, grabbing the sharpest knife he could find and rushed back to the windowsill to find you standing there, staring like he had 6 heads.

"Are you really about to carve up my window?" You groaned, "I won't get the deposit back."

"No, babe look." He excitedly pointed at the arrow carving in the wood panel that he'd exposed after lifting the paint. "That thing. That carving. It--I did that. Me and the boys did that."

You looked mildly intrigued, but didn't fully understand the excitement. You raised your brows and gave him a tired smile.

"Oh!"

You weren't getting it. He started rapidly lifting more chips of paint, forming a small pile on your floor.

"Listen, me and the boys did this thing--it was a stupid thing, but listen we were all sloshed and just did dumb things--but if I'm right about this--I think I know why I'm stuck here."

You still weren't fully understanding where he was going with this, but he rapidly pulled off the paint like a madman.

"What do you mean? What thing?" You were mildly irritated enough as it was, but you wanted to understand where he was going with this.

You peeked over his shoulder to see that he'd been rapidly peeling off half of the paint off of your windowsill. Your initial thought was how much you'd hate having to put the paint back on, but you watched him work anyway.

"We spent a ton of nights just being fuckin' plastered and the old guy downstairs hated us because we kept being loud. So we used to do stupid shit because we couldn't be arsed to make him like us. We just stopped trying. He used to try to get us kicked out for drugs and shit, but--look, my point is we had this plan to put all of our shit in this secret hole just in case they tried to find our stuff."

His mouth was going at a mile a minute, and you tried to follow through the excitement of the conversation. But, again, you were lost.

"Aaron, slow down and tell me what you're looking for."

"We had a secret thing in this window. I completely forgot about it and I thought they found it and fixed the hole but..."

He was about to speak when you heard the subtle clicking of a loose wood panel that was covered over by layers and layers of paint.

"Yes!" He shouted, pumping a fist in the air. As he wedged the knife under the panel to loosen it, a thin slab of wood popped up revealing a small treasure trove of junk.

A few coins. Some unidentifiable pills. A piece of string.

A dark lock of hair held together by a small paper clip.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." He whispered.

You felt like he was having a conversation with himself.

"What is that?" You asked, grimacing. He repeatedly reached to try and grab it, but it slipped through his fingers. It was the first time you'd seen that happen to him within the confines of the apartment. He huffed in frustration and tried to pick it up again, but it phased through his hand.

"It's mine. It's my hair."

Now you had more questions and even less answers. Starting with:

"Why is there a lock of your hair buried in the window ledge of my apartment?"

He stared at it, working his jaw. The physical reminder of his living body while his dead one was thousands of miles across the ocean seemed to weigh heavy on his mind for many obvious reasons.

"We thought it'd be a funny time capsule. We were also stupid." He mumbled.

You both stood in silence at the simplicity and the irony of the situation. But was it that simple? It couldn't have been that simple.

When you passed him to look at the loose panel, you noticed extra etchings in the wood. Some initials and vulgar images. Some acronyms you didn't understand. As your eyes followed the old wood, you noticed something else peaking out beneath the paint, just past the wood panel.

It was a stain.

Your stomach dropped.

Without another word, you took the knife from him and started to pull more paint off of the windowsill.

"What the hell is that?” you whispered, revealing more and more of the fading stain hidden by layers of white paint.

There it was, no bigger than your thumb but very obvious nonetheless.

You dropped the knife and stumbled back like you’d been punched in the chest. Your ears started to ring and you couldn’t breathe. He stood a some distance away, staring at the stain with a glazed over look in his eye. When you opened your mouth to speak, you tasted pennies in your mouth and your vision started to go dark in the corners. Your eyes dropped to the floorboards that'd been painted a darker color that didn't seem to match the wood in the other apartments, and you felt your knees buckle.

They painted over his blood.

[bugginbeetlew]

Assigning 2000s things to Scream Characters

def some some time inaccurate stuff but i love thinking about these three in the 2000s <33

Stu Macher

- Eminem. i’m convinced that if Billy didn’t bully him about it he would definitely go platinum blonde.

- Ray Bans. He wore a Hugh Hefner robe around the house of course he’d own a pair of these

- Silly Bandz. he’d lose them all the time and shoot them at Randy

- me thinks he would also have a Razor scooter and ride it everywhere. he’s silly.

Billy Loomis

- American Psycho. he would be the worse kind of fan n root for Patrick

- Popped polo collars and clunky digital watches💀 it looks dumb as hell but it’s the 2000’s so he gets away w/ it

- Blockbuster membership card. self explanatory. Everyone steals it from him.

Tatum Riley

- Shakira and The Black Eyed Peas. IN MY HEART SHE LISTENS TO LAUNDRY SERVICE RELIGIOUSLY <33

- so much Von Dutch. her closet is so sparkly, she also wears Juicy Couture perfume.

- A PINK MOTOROLA RAZR !!!

- she has keychains from Claire’s n got matching ones for her n Sid <33

Extra

- Billy definitely had a ‘See Paris Die!’ shirt (Stu got it for him it and he loves it but it’s pink cause Stu is an ass)

- Tatum convinced Stu to get frosted tips once. it lasted about a week before he dyed it back (everyone bullied him about it)

[phantomdoofer]

Chapter 11: Bella Giornata

Giuseppe sat up from... wait, where am I? Ugh. My head. My BACK. He stood, stretching as his back painfully realigned with a series of loud clicks. He looked around. Oh, I'm still at Peppino's apartment. Guess I fell asleep. He groaned as various muscles and joints complained, especially his neck. What you get for falling asleep on a table, old man. He smiled a little. Good company makes the time fly. He glanced at the couch - Peppino was snoring, one arm thrown over his eyes, tangled in a blanket. He really needs a bed at his age. Maybe I can talk him into splurging on himself for once. He snorted quietly. Listen to me, I've got a whole house to set up and I went and got smashed instead. He went to the faucet, poured himself a full glass of water, and chugged it down. His stomach churned at the sudden weight. Not good on an empty stomach, but the hangover's still worse.

He heard a groan from the couch. Giuseppe grinned, filled another glass, and walked to the couch. Peppino dragged himself to a sitting position, clutching his head. "Ay, porca puttana, it feels-a like my head is full of-a razor blades." Giuseppe proffered the glass. "Grazie." Peppino downed it and made a face. "Ugh. I'd-a forgotten what the morning after was like. I have to get ready. What time is it?"

Giuseppe looked at the clock. "Looks like about 0730. You open at 1000, right? Plenty of time."

Peppino stood up. "Not-a when you have a ball of cats fighting in your head. Next time, fratello, let's-a keep it a little lighter."

Giuseppe gently punched Peppino's arm. "You've turned into a lightweight! But that's a good thing, in your case." He opened the refrigerator and bent to look. "You have anything here for breakfast? We'd both be better for some food."

Peppino shook his head. "Sorry, I-a normally pick something up on the way. Wasn't expecting to spend-a the evening drinking."

Giuseppe stood, then regretted the motion as his own head throbbed alarmingly. He grabbed his head. "Agh. No problem. I should get going anyway. I need to actually set up my place."

"You-a want some help later? I could-a come by."

Giuseppe waved a hand. "I should be done by the time you get off, really. It's mostly decorating. Grazie nonetheless."

"Of course, Seppe." Peppino moved towards the bathroom. "Feel free to come by if you want anyway."

"All right. See you later, Pino." He moved towards the door.

"Seppe, wait. I nearly forgot." Peppino moved jerkily towards a table to the side, grabbed a small package, and handed it to Giuseppe. "Here. This is-a for you, from Mama. Don't open it til-a you get everything set up." He smiled. "I promise, it'll-a be worth it."

Giuseppe looked at the small flat object, wrapped in plain brown paper. "What is it?"

Peppino grinned wider. "You'll-a see. You'll like it."

Giuseppe nodded. "All right fratellino, be mysterious. I'll message you later." He left.

Peppino had thought long and hard about how to present their Papa's note to Giuseppe, and this had presented a perfect opportunity. Hope it helps him as much as it did me.

~~~~

Peppino pulled his scooter up in front of the pizzeria. Merda, forgot to stop for food. He looked across the street at Noisette's. Well, no one's complained in a while. Maybe it'll be safe... he chained up the scooter and walked into the cafe.

Being midmorning, it was still pretty busy. The smells of coffee and pastries drifted everywhere, and it smelled delicious. Noisette bounced up from behind the counter. "Peppino!! You finally decided to stop in! I'm so excited!!" She clasped her hands and smiled hugely.

"S-sì, Noisette," Peppino stammered, "I need something to pick me up. W-what's-a on the menu today?"

Her eyes practically shone. "Why, Peppino, I've got JUST the thing!" She spun around and grabbed a tray of lurid orange pastries. "Because it's getting cool, I decided to try to make some pumpkin pastries!" She held the tray out - Peppino saw they were vaguely pumpkin-shaped, with a gap-toothed grin and triangle eyes picked out delicately in brown frosting. "Everyone's been talking about them! Try one!"

Peppino picked one up in slight trepidation. Just because they're talking about them doesn't mean they're good! But at this point she'd probably cry if he declined, and as annoying as she might be sometimes, he didn't want that. Here goes. He took a huge bite and chewed.

The delicate spices tingled his tongue, just a bit of pumpkin flavor lacing the taste. It was sweet, but not overpowering. The frosting added a bit of a sour bite. Wonder what that is? Maybe lemon? The pastry was flaky and just a little salty, just as it should be. Peppino smiled, genuinely impressed.

Noisette was grinning from ear to ear. "You like it?"

He looked down at her. "It's really good, actually. Reminds-a me of pumpkin pie, but drier." He pointed day the tray. "Can I get three? And a black coffee?"

"Of course! Right up!" Noisette spun and went to work, while a sleepy-looking pig-lady bagged the pastries. Shortly Peppino was outside, Noisette's cheerful farewell following him out. He chewed on another pastry. Guess she's got a talent for coffee and pastries! Feeling much more himself, he unlocked the pizzeria's door. "Hey Fake, I've-a got something for you to try!"

~~~~

Apparently the pastries had been a big hit, because many of Peppino's customers all day had come in bearing coffee and a bag full of bright orange goodies. It hadn't slowed down the pizza orders, though. In fact, Peppino was actually getting a bit concerned he was going to run out of supplies. The weather had people in a good mood, and Peppino admitted he was no exception. Gustavo had been even more chipper all day. Fake had asked if there was a chance they could try adding to the menu, something Peppino was hesitant about. But if he's part Bruno, it should be good stuff. As long as he doesn't put bugs in it or something. So he'd agreed to a few small trials - nothing fancy. The lanky clone had loped happily off to get supplies. Even Brick was happy, outside getting pets from passerby.

"Hey, Fat Man!"

Figlio de puttana, I knew it was too good to be true!

The Noise has slipped in and was sitting across from him at the counter, grinning toothily. Peppino sighed. "What is it, Noise?"

Noise leaned forward and spoke in a stage whisper. "Heard you like 'sette's pastries."

Peppino leaned back. This is... unusually friendly for Noise. I think. "Sì, actually, they're really good. Why?"

Noise looked uncomfortable. "I, uh... I was thinkin' of doin' some advertising for her on NTV. Y'know, some ads, so on. But, I know people talked about her... uh, early stuff." He growled, and looked like he was grinding his teeth.

Peppino crossed his arms and tried not to look smug at the little gremlin's discomfiture. He was curious. What has he got up that ridiculous sleeve?

Finally, Noise bit his words out. "Yer name's got weight now, Spaghetti. Not just here. Lotta people know you took down Pizzahead. I was... hopin'..." he growled, as if it hurt him to even say it, "maybe you could... endorse her, a bit."

Peppino's eyebrows practically shot off his head. "Y-you... want me... to endorse her?" He was trying really hard not to laugh. Not for Noise's sake - he'd laugh in the little stronzo's face any day of the week. But Noisette had always been nice to him, so he gave it some thought. "Why not you? You're the-a big-shot executive, after all."

Noise actually looked even more uncomfortable. "That's the problem. People'll see it as favoritism and ignore it if I do it. But you, you got clout now. If you's says it, people'll listen."

Peppino thought about it. Do people really know about me?

Suddenly a customer, a young woman, nearby spoke. "Excuse me, Mr. Spaghetti, sorry to butt in, but I gotta say, he's got a point. I didn't even know about this place until you took down that Tower. Now I drive here from La Crosta at least once a week. She does make good stuff. If you say it, it'll definitely help her out." Several other customers nodded and murmured agreement.

Noise looked at him, more businesslike than Peppino was used to. "Listen to 'em, Spaghetti. Tell ya what. I'll sweeten the deal. I'll record some bits for yer pizzeria and show 'em for free for a while. I'll get my people on it. What do ya say?"

Peppino was shocked by the offer. He's very serious about this. He smirked inside. But I can't let him just get it all his way... "Tell-a you what," he said, "I'll do it if you run my bits during your show every day for a year. And-a you don't call me Baldy or Fat or anything-a else derogatory til after-a Christmas. Bene?"

Noise looked ready to bite a hole in the counter, but held out his hand. "Deal." They shook hands - Peppino was surprised not to get a joy-buzzer. The customers clapped and went back to their own conversations.

Peppino took his hand back. "No pranks, no-a jokes? You really are-a serious."

Noise looked down. "I, uh. Just want to look out for my lady, is all."

Peppino smiled a genuine smile. "Maybe you're not-a all bad, Noise."

Noise hissed and waved his hands. "Shaddap, shaddap! I got's a rep to maintain!" He slid a card across the counter. "There's my people's number. They'll get with you soon to set everything up." He hopped off the stool and turned, then turned back. "Er. Um... thanks, fa-ahem, Spaghetti." He scrambled out the door.

Peppino stared in disbelief as the Noise ran out of sight. He reached down and pinched himself just to be sure. Will wonders never cease.

Later that night, as Peppino was closing up the shop, his phone buzzed with a message. He looked down and grinned: Giuseppe. He clicked on it.

You sneaky son of a bitch. You were right. I did like it. Screw you for making me cry like that. And thank you.

Peppino smiled and laughed. He texted back: You're welcome, fratello. Glad you liked it.

~~~~

A few days later, the local businesses had decided to have a Trick-or-treat event, and Peppino had decided to participate. He'd baked up some dessert pizzas and was handing out slices. Gustavo had made up a batch of various candies, Fake had made some little frog-shaped tarts, and Noisette had baked a cornucopia of sweets up too. Everyone was in costume - Peppino had decided to do his classic bedsheet ghost (he'd actually wanted to do something else but the local kids had begged him), and Gustavo had shown up dressed as Gerome. Fake had just shapeshifted to look like they were wearing a frog outfit. Peppino looked across the way and saw Noisette handing out little bags, her Moon Bunny outfit sparkling. Despite himself, Peppino was enjoying the whole thing. The kids were asking for stories from him just as much as the sweets, and he found he was happy to oblige. Even though some of their parents probably sported a few bruises from the experiences he described. Hope there's no hard feelings...

After the sun had set, Noisette had thrown a party at the Cafe, and she'd invited the whole crew. Noise was up on the counter, being himself; Vigi was nursing a coffee, looking outlandish in a cow costume; Pepperman had painted himself with what looked like some painting of a person screaming. There were a lot of other patrons there, dressed in a variety of outfits. There were even a few Pizzaheads, some so realistic Peppino had nearly had a heart attack when he saw the first one. Then they'd started talking and a totally different voice came out, and he laughed at himself.

Peppino and Gustavo sat with Brick in the corner - Brick kept blowing on a party squeaker that no one remembered giving her.

Gus looked up at Peppino. "Nice to have some fun and quiet for once."

Peppino found himself smiling. "Yeah. It's-a nice. I could-a get used to this."

Suddenly Noise reached behind the counter and slammed a speaker beside him.

"ALLLLL RIGHT FOLKS, IT'S KARAOKE TIIIIIME!"

Gustavo grabbed Peppino's arm and started to drag him to the counter. Peppino laughingly protested. "Gus, no, stop! You know I have-a the singing voice of a cat having a hairball!"

Gustavo grinned hugely. "Ah, give it up Pep! Just relax and have fun! You're among friends here!"

Peppino looked around at the partygoers. Friends? At least half of these people tried to kill me! Of course, they apologized later...

He stood up. "Maybe just-a one song."

Gustavo grinned and dragged him to the counter.

[rhysdarbinizedarby]

Rhys Darby: Have fun, it keeps you young

I bought this fine piece of dandy in a Vegas thrift store. It's perfect for hosting a Ponsonby quiz night.

Don't be ridiculous, there's no cut-off age to letting loose.

Last week, I hosted a quiz night. I know ... remember when I used to be in movies?

Oh well, it was for my kids' school, so I felt good about it. Besides, I got to wear my sparkling Vegas suit. It's a fine piece of dandy I bought in a thrift store in LA. It's baby blue in colour and bedazzled with diamond-like gems. Perfect for hosting a Ponsonby quiz night.

The school seems to be in pretty good shape. Unfortunately the same can't be said for my kids. I took them away from the country for three months touring the UK and they didn't get ill once, but after being deposited back in their local institutions, they were both as sick as dogs within a week.

Schools and daycares certainly are breeding grounds for viruses. Both my boys were hit with chesty coughs and conjunctivitis.

It's near impossible to deposit eye drops into a two-year-old's eyes. We just held him back and used the surprise technique. That works only once. After that, we simply dropped the the liquid as close to the facial region as possible and then tipped him about until it rolled into the sockets. The poor little guy came into our bedroom at 3AM with one of his eyes glued shut with goo.

"Look, Mummy and Daddy, I'm a pirate!"

Children are amazing. It doesn't matter how they're feeling, their glass is always half full. Half full of chocolate milk with sprinkles on top. I hope I never lose my child-like sensibilities.

Being an adult weighs you down, man. I think it's important for us all to let loose once in a while and do something youthful. That's why I still skateboard to work. It's invigorating to have the wind in your hair as you whizz past the suits holding onto their coffees. Sure, now and then I get pointed at, even laughed at. But hey, I'm used to that.

I often wonder, what is the cut-off age for youthful fun? I see lots of men in their 30s skating on longboards. My right-hand man "Buttons" even bought a special pushing pole so he could grace his way along the paths like a punter in Venice. Was he ridiculed? Of course, but that has nothing to do with his pole.

Source: Rosie Carnahan Darby's IG

I think it comes down to "coolness levels". It's okay for a man in his late 50s to surf the ocean waves because it's rad. But when you see a man in his 40s riding a razor scooter along Ponsonby Rd it just seems a little sad.

I say, "to hell with it".

Ride, skate and surf to your heart's content. If you're still breathing then you should still be having fun. Just choose your activity wisely. On a ridicule scale of 1 to 10, cycling is a 1 but unicycling is a solid 8.5 unless you're wearing a sparkling Vegas suit, in which case it's a 10.

Source: NZ Herald

[whatisreggieshortfor]

More the Merrier

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

Daichi x Suga x Asahi x m!reader

For @gosen-kun 💛

“So when are you going to tell them?”

You looked down at your brother, “Tell who what?”

Noya just rolled his eyes, “Asahi and them! When are you gonna tell them you have a crush on them?”

You stiffened but brushed it off, “I think you’re imagining things, little brother. Besides, the three of them have the perfect relationship.”

Noya remained unconvinced, “So, you’re telling me that you haven’t noticed the three of them looking at your arms when you lift the water bottles for Yachi? Or checking you out when you pick something up for coach? You do know that I know about the letters you wrote them, right?”

“OH HELL NO! What did I tell you about going into my room!?” Noya’s face flashed with terror as he realized his mistake, taking off to leave you chasing after him, “YUU IMMA KILL YOU!”

“YOU HAVE TO CATCH ME FIRST!”

The third years watched fondly as you chased your brother around the gym, wondering what he could’ve done to invoke your wrath. Tanaka made his way over to them, “Bros, this is coming from me so you know I mean it big time, but your simp is showing.”

All three of them froze, but Suga voiced the question, “What do you mean?”

“How long have you been crushing on Noya’s brother?”

Daichi just sighed, “On the first day of class, Sensei asked Y/N to state a fun fact about their time in America.”

“Okay? And?” Tanaka asked, his face screwed up in confusion.

“He said, and I quote, ‘I’d rather take a razor scooter to the ankle than do that.’ And then just sat back down.” The second year snorted, “Genuinely, we thought Asahi was going to pass out because he laughed so hard.”

“You laughed too! Why are you calling me out?”

“Asahi, sweetie,” Suga gently patted his cheek, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh in class until that day.”

Tanaka knew Noya’s plan would work now, and unbeknownst to you, three little envelopes got delivered to your favorite players.

When the Inter-highs inevitably roll up, you still don’t know what your brother plans on doing, but you have a plan of your own to support your fellow third years. Noya is annoyed you’ve kept it hidden, but he is too busy focusing his energy with Tanaka on protecting the other managers. You just grab the two of them by their jerseys, “Guys, Kiyoko is literally holding Yachi’s hand, and she’s more than capable of telling people that they are a couple. They don’t need attack dogs.”

“BUT THERE IS SO MANY BOYS HERE-“

“And you are two of them, now get a move on.” You sigh, dragging the two of them behind you as they growl at opposing teams they even think are checking out your girls. Noya knows you’re right, and he also knows you would drop anything and protect them if they needed it, so eventually he just grumbles at you to let him go. When it’s time to head to the stands, you decide to pull out your secret. You don’t think they notice at first, as you fold up your club jacket and stick it in your bag, pulling out the little flag you made, but then you hear them.

“Is that-“

“Asahi! Y/N has your jersey number on!” You smirk to yourself as you turn around, showing the big number one on the front to go with the three on the back, and hold up the little flag you made with Suga’s number two on it. All three boys keep glancing at you and then each other. You are broadcasting all three of their numbers. They have the letters you wrote them during first year before you left, courtesy of two nosey second years. They are slowly putting the pieces together that maybe, you just might return the budding feelings they’ve been hiding from everyone but each other. And it lit a fire under them, because they were not about to approach you about this with a loss.

You cheered every time Daichi received, every time Asahi’s spikes scored, and you cheered extra hard when Suga got put on the court. By the time the day was over, even though you were pretty sure your voice was gone, you were rushing around the team making sure everyone had what they needed for the bus ride back, until Daichi pulled you aside, “Hey, Y/N, we wanted to thank you. Ya know, for the support and stuff. And uh- well-“ he rubbed the back of his neck and you looked curiously at Suga and Asahi behind him, and then you saw it. Asahi was fiddling with a very familiar envelope.

“Oh god.” You wanted to throw up, anything to not face three consecutive rejections, so your fight or flight reflex kicked in, and you ran away.

“Wha- Y/N! The bus is the other way!”

Noya just sighed, “No, don’t worry. He’ll get home just fine.”

“What happened?” Suga asked confused, but the way he narrowed his eyes at Noya told the shorter boy he was serious.

“UH- well- he kinda…doesntknowigaveyouguystheletters.”

“What was that?” Daichi asked, all three of them staring at the libero.

“He doesn’t know I gave them to you! He wasn’t gonna say anything, but I was just trying to help!”

Daichi punched the bridge of his nose, “Noya, what the hell!?”

“I knew you guys like him! And he liked all of you…so I just thought…what’s the harm, ya know?” He chuckled awkwardly, backing away.

“Noya, you can’t just do that!”

“He did! To literally the whole team, too!”

“Let’s go menaces! The bus is ready to pull out!” Coach Ukai yelled, doing a head count, “Where’s Y/N?”

“He ran home.”

“What did the short stack do?” The coach sighed.

You breathed heavily as you finally set on the front steps at home. You had managed to remember to text Kiyoko and ask her to grab your bag off the bus, but now you were stuck stewing in your head. Why did Yuu think that was a good idea? You were gonna have to leave the club now. No way could you go back knowing that not only had your feelings from years ago, but your attempt to cheer them on today probably showcased that they were still there. You didn’t look up when you heard the shoes coming your way, “Yuu, I love you and all, but I’m mad at you and you better leave me alone before I become an only child.”

“Not Yuu.” Closing your eyes to take a deep breath, you hesitantly looked up into the three faces you weren’t sure you could survive seeing right now, “Brought your bag for you.”

“Actually Kiyoko smacked us with it and told us to fix it.”

“Suga!”

You snorted, you couldn’t help it. As much as you were afraid, these were still your best friends and they were still the same goofy boys they’d always been. Asahi seemed to relax a bit, seeing you smile, “We’re- well- uh, we’re sorry if we made you uncomfortable. We know you didn’t tell him to give us the letters, and it makes sense that you’d only see us as friends now, it’s been a couple years so-“

“What?” You blinked, “You guys think the feelings went away?”

“Isn’t that why you ran earlier?” Suga asked, taking a seat to your left, Daichi to your right, and Asahi in front of you.

“I ran so you couldn’t reject me.” You muttered.

“Why would we do that?” Your brows furrowed as you turned to Daichi, “You were the one that told us about our complementary traits. I’m strict but caring, Suga is chaotic but fun, Asahi is anxious but helps us see the big picture when catastrophizes. You help each of us with those things. You’re tough but flexible when we need you to be. You fit in.”

“I fit in…with you guys?” You glanced at each of their faces, did you really want to get your hopes up? Suga seemed to read that thought in your face.

“You fit in right here.” He took your hand, “Where you’re supposed to be.”

Masterlist