#That's one small life dream off the checklist

[queen-of-the-boos]

"Heehee... You look like you know how to have a good time... Mhm. I've decided! You'll make a lovely playmate for my pokemon! You are the one we've been waiting for... Come... Come play with us FOREVER~!"

Uh-oh! Looks like you've met eyes with Pyre, a girl who enjoys chasing legends as much as she loves giving people a good scare! Treating her to a good battle may cool down her trickery. Only one way to find out! (Custom battle music made by LaunchpadVGM on twitter!)

[echantedtoon]

Not Thy Neighbor, Thy Want-To-Be Lover

As you sit and do your job, a monster who's became infatuated perfects himself into the perfect man to become your husband.

(Warnings for mentions of death, blood, killing, and maybe yandereish themes.)

"Mmm...Hello."

A thin glass was all that separated himself and the one.

Tired eyes stared endlessly into the glass, the one thing separating himself from the one destined to be his. The image reflected in the glass and staring into his soul was one of perfection. Spent MONTHS perfecting on and heading many warnings for in order to slip by and gain access to what's destined to be his. Tired eyes that took a lifetime to perfect darkening his skin cells to the exact right shade of black to pass as sleep depravation. Forcing his outside to crease to perfect every wrinkle. Spots to form every freckle. Every little detail on the outside.

Just so he could come back every day and see her again.

"Mr. Mosses?"

"Hm?" Perfectly replicated eyes blinked surprised at the woman on the other side who just rose a deadpanned brows higher. "I asked for your identification, Sir." Her petite hand gestured a finger pointed downwards meaning the slot hole in front of him. "If you could please hand it over, Mr. Mosses."

Professional.

She was always professional. Never asking about your day or small talk legitimately at all. Only professional talk doing her work until her night shift was over and the day doorman came to take her place until her next shift again. The room he stood had two doors. One leading into the building and one leading out with both being able to lock him securely in until the disposal team came in to kill him.

IF he was caught that is. 

He hasn't been caught YET. Many run ins with trying his disguise out on the outside and on people who knew the old milkman ensured his new body would get perfected everyday. Every second. All just to start his new life in society and eventually getting everything he wanted. 

"I'm sorry. Yes of course." Hands perfected humanly reached into his clothes and pulled out a stolen ID card but it was technically him now so rightfully it was his too. The small thing slid into the slot and down into the small secured office as her eyes looked at it. "Forgive me. The extra shifts have gotten me a little tired."

"Please ensure that you remember next time,Sir," was her automatic response as she held it up along with two pieces of paper. No doubt comparing the actual legit ID card to the information on the sheet. The other one a checklist her hand marked off with a pen. Always following every procedure to the T. He'd expect nothing less of the one who'd be his wife. "Entry request form please."

"Of course. I have it right here." Another smaller folded piece of paper was taken from the same pocket anf inserted into the same slot. 

Her hands unfolded it as the same routine as the ID card examination repeated. She was perfect as she read. Eyes narrowed in focus and brows furrowed in determination. She was all perfect. It's what he wanted really. There was others of his mind that took her nature for granted but all almost had the same dream. A life. He wanted that when he first came to this place. It was plastered as the one true life and he fell hard for the fantasy.

To live a life of normality. Humanity. 

Having a nice home with a picket fence and a steady job with a cute little wife and children to come home to. He knew he wanted that. What counted as 'family' to him before was nothing. Only caring about themselves. Most of his kind were killers. Killing their way to get a place in society only it failed miserably every single time for the blood thirsty ones. He never saw a Dopple that was successful except one. In human terms she would've been considered his 'cousin' as she was a spawn born from one of his sire's 'siblings'. He recognized her even through her absolutely PERFECT human disguise. She had taken a woman's place, Lois Stilnsky if he remembered right. She looked perfectly happy hanging onto the arm of her new husband and bouncing a toddler son that couldn't have been older than two maybe three at the time he saw the family. Whether the baby boy was hers after taking the old wife's place or was already born before his possible original mother was done away with he didn't know. But she had looked absolutely happy to take over his raising herself and become a wife and mother.

He wanted that. By any means necessary. Oh he never killed the original Francis. Yes he copied his appearance. Yes he took the old Francis's ID. Yes he now WAS Francis Mosses..But he wasn't the one who killed the original. He wasn't sure if he was going to kill the original. Oh he heavily contemplated it as he studied every route he made on his delivery route. Studying EVERY customer new, old, and current. His boss, coworkers, friends, but no family..He didn't have any family left which made things easier in the long run. But besides the point- He spent HOURS looking through windows studying every INCH of his apartment and routine just to make himself perfect! 

However he wasn't the only one who decided he'd be the perfect topic. He studied him and spent time making sure he'd be perfectly blended in. The one who actually did the deed was fast and hasty. Did away with the original messily. He still cringed at the gruesome memory of him being devoured like a steak fed to a dog. The idiot then adapted his form and ran off without even taking the ID or forms needed. He was dead within minutes of trying to waltz into the building covered in blood.  He vowed to never take a human life after that after all that wouldn't fit into his new life. 

He waited half a day after recovering what he could from the wreckage to seize what he needed being sure to thoroughly clean them off before deciding to go into his new life. He probably shouldn't have. He was shaken up with nerves and fear, his outside appearance while perfect was disheveled and unkempt. He was so sure when he turned in the papers into the day doorman he'd be killed but oddly his appearance ended up working in his favor-

"Oh, Francis!," the stranger exclaimed as soon as he saw his shaking form. "Thank goodness you're ok! I've been getting a few calls from your boss asking if you were here! I was worried when I heard your truck was found with you missing!"

"Um..Y-Yes." he stuttered feeling sweat run his new face. "A doppelganger ended up throwing the door open and tried to get me but thankfully my driver's door was open so I just jumped out and ran. Hid in an alleyway for a while until I thought it was safe to come back."

It was half a lie. The other Dopple did jump into the van and Old Francis did manage to get out and away...but the poor soul didn't make it past an abandoned building before he was a goner.

The day doorman nodded with a smile. "Well thank goodness you're alright. I'll happily call your boss back to ease his worries."

"T-Thank you B-But I'm tired and just want to shower. Can i-I go inside?"

"Sure! I just need to see your ID card and request forms. Better safe than sorry than they say. Y'know that Doppler was in here looking like you but it must've gotten hungry and eaten a stray dog or something. Tried to pass off the blood as 'scarlet milk'. What do those things take me for? An idiot?!"

"Heh..R-Right. A lot of them aren't t-too bright." He shook so badly handing the cleaned up forms to him. He was going to die next he knew it.

"You got that right." He hummed looking over everything very quick before smiling and to his shock pushed them back through the slot to him. "Okie doke! You're good to go! Try to rest up ok, Bud? You've had a really scary day by the sounds of it."

"Mmm. Yes. Scary."

He shook with every step taking the forms back and heading to now his home. He couldn't believe it himself. His now boss calling his now apartment to be sure he was ok before giving him the next week off to collect himself. It gave him a good chance to check over his now belongings and the rest of the home he never got to see through the windows. It was..nice. Pretty plain. Bland. But normal and certainly an upgrade from the alleys and rooftops and abandoned buildings especially in bad weather. It wasn't until the end of the week when he went to his now job and did his now rounds. It was late at night coming back for the first time at such an hour and to his surprise it was not the friendly now friend of his day doorman. No. He stopped cold. A fist seizing his heart as the most beautiful woman he's ever encountered looked at him neutrally.

"Entrance request form and identification card please."

He now knew what love truly was. 

"Both are correct." Her hands pushed the two things back through the slot continuing to check off the list before leaning back to look at something on the wall. "...And you're expected as usual. Will you please take a few steps back to be examined?"

"Mmm. Alright." 

The usual thing. Making sure he didn't have any abnormalities on his upper body, lower body, sides, and back. Taking a few steps back for her to fully look him over arms raised and fully turning around to let her see his entire body. 

"Take off your hat please." He obliged his his picture didn't have his hat on him and she probably wanted to check him for any horns or other things. "Alright. Give me one moment to call your apartment to confirm your status." Yep. Every. Single. Step. By the book. 

He couldn't wait to have her in his arms. In a wedding dress in that magical day he always heard about. Having their own little ones running around. The picture perfect family as he went to work and brought home the bacon and came back to a smiling wife with children playing at her feet and dinner waiting for him. Maybe even a dog too. He'd like to get them a nice house in the countryside. Away from the disgusting city. He heard that was ideal for growing families. 

"Alright. No one's home. So it all checks out." The phone was placed back with a click as she looked at him. "You're free to head inside. Have a nice night, Mr. Mosses."

The door opened with a loud noise ...but her brow rose in surprise when he instead approached the window and leaned down. "Actually I have a question for you if that's alright."

"And that being what, Sir?"

His smile brightened. "Would you perhaps like to have dinner with me sometime?"

[slytherinshua]

NAPTIME

genre. fluff. warnings. kissing. soohyun is sleep deprived (what else is new). one suggestive joke if you squint like your life depends on it. pairing. soohyun x fem!reader. wc. 756. a/n. tagging @wheeboo cause i actually need her to see the cuteness that i have just created im literally crying.

“Soohyun, it’s naptime.” You stated, grabbing the notebook that he was scribbling in from his hands.

“What?” He stared at you, trying his best to keep his stare as just that without it morphing into a glare. He didn’t like glaring at you. He could glare at anybody else, but not you. 

“You worked the night shift last night. You didn’t get home until 3 am.”

“How do you know that?” 

“Door sensor. I set it up so it goes to my phone too.” You said simply, swiftly dodging Soohyun’s attempts at getting his notebook back.

“Y/n, that’s practically spying on me!” He complained.

“Well… you give me no choice when you work the entire night! I’m just worried about you.” You sighed, “I’m allowed to be worried about my boyfriend and his lack of sleep.”

“I don’t want you worrying about me, though.” 

“Don’t you worry about me?” You asked him. You were scanning through the pages of his notebook, most of which were filled with his organised notes in his small handwriting. As you flipped to the next page, you didn’t find it filled with lecture notes, but instead was a checklist.

Things I want to do with Y/n.

1 - spend our 6 month anniversary together

2 - go on regular dates

3 - tell her I love her

Soohyun snatched the notebook back before you could read any further, slamming it shut and forcing it into his backpack, “Of course I worry about you.” He stammered.

You smiled, “You’re so hypocritical. You always nag me about sleeping and eating and going outside. You don’t expect me to also nag?” He stayed silent, pursing his lips. “I told you, it’s naptime, and if you don’t want to be labelled a hypocrite again, you’ll do what I say.” 

“What do you want me to do?” His eyes followed you as you stood up from your chair and walked to your bed.

“Come here.” You sat down, patting the space on the bed next to you. Soohyun seemed hesitant, but he followed your direction regardless, sitting next to you on the bed.

“No. Lie down. And take off your jacket, you’ll be uncomfortable with it on.”

Soohyun turned to you, “Are you sure this isn’t just a trick to get me to take my clothes off?”

“No! Just do what I say. Gosh, you’re so stubborn.” You huffed, staring Soohyun down until he was laying down like you wanted him to. Once he was, you let yourself lay down as well, on your side and facing him.

He rested his head on the pillow, cheek cutely squishing against the surface of it. Staring at you with his dark eyes, he let his lips curve up into a smile. You smiled back at him until you could see his dimples pop out.

“What do we do now?” He whispered.

“Nap. I just want you to get some sleep.”

“What about you?” 

“I can sleep too. Sleeping is spending quality time with each other, you know.” You reasoned.

“Are you really that worried about me? Naptime? I’m not a toddler.” He muttered.

You giggled, “Sometimes you act like it, though. You’re unreasonably stubborn. You don’t do what other people say either.”

“I do what you say.” 

“Only because I’m just as stubborn as you.” You smiled and extended your hand to his forehead, brushing away a few stray strands of hair. He closed his eyes on instinct. “That’s right. You need sleep. Keep them closed. I’ll talk to you until I invade your dreams.”

Soohyun tried to suppress his smile, but his dimples gave him away. You continued to speak softly, telling small anecdotes about the past weeks— anything that could act as soft background noise to help lull your boyfriend to sleep. It seemed to work well, and once you thought he was asleep, you shifted closer to him. 

“I know I worry about you a lot…” You whispered, “But it’s only because I love you so much.” 

“Me too.”

Your eyes widened, “Soohyun, I thought you-”

“I love you too.” He opened his eyes only slightly, just enough to be able to locate your lips before he was kissing you slowly. You didn’t protest at all— you were quick to kiss him back. It was only when the kiss naturally came to its end that you got back your stubbornness.

“Are you going to sleep now?”

He hummed quietly, pulling you even closer to him until you were nestled near his chest. “Now we can sleep.”

↳ k-drama taglist: @yeonjuns-redhair,, @wolfmoonmusic,, @edensgardenn

[blainesebastian]

a dream is a wish your heart makes

words: 1,287 ship: austin butler x reader summary: (anon request) “sequel to Disney proposal fic”  notes: this is a small part 2 to ‘full of magic’, you should read that first :)  warnings: none tag list: @killerqueenfan, @karamelcoveredolicity, @elizabethrosecresswell, @gigisworldsstuff, @stylespresleyhearted, @rairaielv

You'd never consider yourself that much of a worrier, there's never seemed like much of a point. In your opinion, worrying is just gonna mean that you'll suffer twice, so, why bother? Clearly in all the times you've told yourself this, you were never planning a wedding—so what do you know?

You know that wedding planners exist and that maid of honors and family members usually help with this sort of thing, getting all your ducks in a row...because at this point all you feel like you're doing is putting out small fires for something else to pop up in your peripherals but. One of the mistakes you think you make is that you kind of insist on doing everything on your own. And so much of it feels doable? You make lists all the time and get shit done and only accept help when you absolutely need it—but then a year turns into five months and now you're at three and then one and...you're worried about a day that's supposed to be one of the most perfect in your life.

And maybe that's the issue. Too much pressure for a 'perfect' day and not allowing anyone to take things off your plate (or well, checklist). You can figure out most of this on your own, right?

Right...that's why you're drowning in a sea of paperwork on your dining room table and you've lost at least two mugs underneath somewhere. Swallowed up. You frown—you're beginning to forget what this table actually looks like beneath.

The thing is, everything major is booked—this is just the little things, which are somehow worse and more stressful. These are the placecards, the flowers, the reception favors, the small cards and giftcards for the caterers and other people who are gonna work to make this wedding perfect.

"What was I thinking?" You mumble, shifting papers around. Getting proposed to at Disney was one thing...but now getting married? Whole other can of worms.

Of course, it seemed like such a good idea at the time--why wouldn't it? You were also completely swept up in the romanticism of having a Disney wedding. Austin was willing to spend any expense, even though you insisted that you didn't need to. You had joked about having your wedding at Disney once and that was kind of the end of it, those comments became checklists, and those checklists became plans. To be fair, it's not that you're not excited...even though you're incredibly stressed, it's just...it almost feels like part of a dream. Though how could it not when you're going to get married in the most magical place on earth?

Admittedly, you love Disney—you've always been a huge fan even though it's taken you a bit to get there. You're definitely able to associate perfect memories with Magic Kingdom, given that's where Austin proposed to you. Being with him within itself feels magical, so—and you know how corny that can sound on the outside, but...you're not gonna deny that's how it feels. So how can you pass up that opportunity to continue it there?

There's this gazebo before the Boardwalk near the Beach Club resort and it overlooks the bay, the Swan and Dolphin and Yacht Club resort. It's simple, beautiful but there's so many hoops to jump through, I's to dot, T's to cross. You run a hand over your face, pinching the bridge of your nose as you close your eyes.

You feel rather than see Austin come into the room, his hand slipping along the back of your shoulders and running down your back. He leans down and presses a kiss to your head, a small shiver coursing down your spine as you catch a hint of his cologne.

"I keep having nightmares I'm gonna get buried under paper."

Austin chuckles lightly, squeezing your shoulder before slipping into a chair next to you. "You're gonna give yourself a migraine—you know we got other people to help you with this, right? Including me?"

You sigh a bit dramatically and tip your head back before rolling your gaze to your fiancé. "I know," You reply quietly, a soft smile tugging the corners of your mouth, "I just keep thinking about everything that needs done and I get tunnel vision."

He hums before nodding, reaching for a few pieces of paper aside. He knows you, doesn’t need to elaborate on that—he gets exactly how you’re feeling. But he’s also right. You can’t take utter control over all of this. For starters, there’s way too much to do that you can easily delegate to some other people to help and secondly, the last thing you want to do is associate your wedding with negative feelings of stress and general ickiness.

Alright, fine. You’ll get some help, stop trying to control everything, because it’s not possible anyways.

“I guess I just wanted everything to be perfect.” You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head as you push the chair back from the table. You turn your body, facing Austin, knowing how cliché that sounds.

You should know better, at this point, than to be a perfectionist—there’s no good reason to be. And yet it’s difficult to stop when those nagging thoughts come rolling in. Austin’s pretty good at shushing them, though, sometimes with a simple touch. He shifts slightly in his chair to take a look at you, brushing your hair over your shoulder in a fond gesture. He gives you this look which you know says—you worry too much.

“It will be.”

You crinkle your nose because…you know that Austin is an optimist but, “How can you know that?”

He holds your gaze for a long moment and before he speaks, you can tell how serious he is about the words that are going to leave his mouth, an emotion you can’t quite name in the depths of his blue eyes, “Because I’ll be with you.”

And despite the fact that there’s a slight glimmer of added mischief a moment later in his gaze, you know he wasn’t kidding. You laugh softly and roll your eyes, making Austin grin.

He takes your hand and squeezes, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, “What, you didn’t like that? I was gonna make it part of my vows.”

You playfully push his cheek with your other hand but he’s quick, grabbing it and using it as leverage to tug you closer, kissing you.

Needless to say, you definitely have a necessary distraction for the afternoon.

--

And it is pretty perfect, as if you had any reason to doubt or think otherwise.

You think one of the most surprising aspects is just how fast everything goes—all that planning and worrying for it to be over and done in the blink of an eye, in the flash of a camera bulb, a heartbeat.

You go back to where Austin’s proposed before you both leave Florida for your honeymoon, standing in front of Cinderella’s castle, looking down at the ring on your finger. A small smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, running your thumb over the underside of the band. The sky is orange this time, candied pink, as the sun dips down behind the soft blue and silver structure.

To face the future with another, who means more than any other, is to be loved.

You can’t help but smile as you feel Austin come up behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, your jawline and your cheek before you turn your head and your lips brush. Your thumb runs over his wedding band.

That’s definitely the magic of love.

--

The line in italics come from the Disney movie The Rescuers.

[hangmanssunnies]

16 - needing their cuddles even though they have something else to do 💜💜

House We Share Jake! <3 Predeployment...

"Sit down with me," you had requested in the middle of the end of his preliminary post-workout checklist.

Jake struggled to ever resist giving you the things you wanted. At least things he could give you, oh, he was always hoping it was enough to make up for what he couldn't. There was this small pleased smile that graced your face anytime Jake did something for you. As if he had surprised you or you had gotten a welcome but unexpected gift. That smile was one of his favorite things about you. Last month he caught himself dedicating four pages of his sketchbook to get it perfect.

His feet moved before his brain could catch up. Jake thinks it's nice you have that power. It's similar to how he feels after a good run, wholly grounded in the moment and his body. He goes from circling the kitchen island to sitting beside you on the couch. Answering your smile with a grin of his own. He playfully taps his elbow to your ribs, nudging you. Ignoring your complaint about his sharp elbows when you elbow him back and motion for him to scoot closer to you. While tempted to sink into the couch with you, Jake also had a million things he needed to get done; at every corner he turned, something caught his attention. Patching the drywall, setting up an appointment with the landscaper, checking the HVAC system, and regrouting the kitchen backsplash.

When was the last time the fridge water filter was replaced? Jake suddenly thought to himself, worried. He almost shoots up from the couch. The need to add the filter to his checklist before he forgot it struck him. Before he does, your hands are in his hair, and Jake wants to fall apart. If Jake has an off button for his brain, you discovered it while playing with his hair. Sure, his hair was played with in the past, but no one had ever made him feel like he does when you do it.

"I have so much to do," Jake whines, not wanting to pull away from your warmth. You shush him gently, tugging on his hair harder. He knows you think it's a playful punishment, a reminder to keep him in place. But God, if it doesn't do a million and one things to him. Jake briefly considers the likely hood that he would spontaneously combust. Which would be preferable to the forbidden things he actually wants to do. It's why he can't let himself think about you in too much detail. Details lead to longing and yearning, and obsession. Jake once again reminds himself that being obsessed with your roommate is a creepy thing.

"It'll be there tomorrow. Nothing's going anywhere… not yet, at least."

"Sugar," he groans quietly. "I'll have more stuff to do and less time tomorrow."

"We both know you were stress-pacing for the last 10 minutes. And you aren't doing this by yourself, Jakers," you remind him firmly but still with a kind edge.

"I will help you get everything done. I promise the list will be finished before you have to go. It's all going to be okay." Your words feel like a small weight off his shoulder. You are the most reassuring person in his life. Jake briefly tries to remember how he did this before he had you around. Maybe he didn't do it at all.

"Well…" Jake starts to respond.

"No, wells or buts. Do you know what I need right now?"

"What is that, sugar?"

“I need you to cuddle with me on this couch. And I need you to watch this movie." You say, gesturing to the TV. Jake honestly couldn't care less about whatever movie you picked. Not in a mean way, but it wasn't on his list of priorities to watch.

However, he did care about you, so fucking much. Jake would go to extreme measures to fulfill any want you had any need and desire could fill. Jake stopped walking down that path, considering how he was behaving. In a typical Jake fashion, he was trying to overcompensate for the things he couldn't do. The small but persistent thing he knew, guessed, assumed, hoped, dreamed, prayed, thought you wanted most from him. So, Jake would give you the cuddles you wanted, and he does his damnedest to make sure the house is perfect for you trying to think of and prevent as many problems as he could.

You snuggle closer to Jake, and he takes a deep breath, appreciating your scent. Jake is trying to pay attention to the movie since he knows you want to talk about it later. However, it is difficult to do so because the most captivating thing in the room is you. Having you around already made everything about his deployment worse; having you around makes everything about being home better.

[featherwingfox]

Chapter 1 Everyday Life

Maya could hear her younger brother singing down the hallway.

“Wakey wakey eggs and bacy! I made your favorite pancakes! Happy birthday, Maya!” he came in through the door, kicking it open and strutting the plate of pancakes over to her bed.

“Why isn’t my alarm the one waking me up?” Maya got up groggily.

“Would you rather that annoying thing have the honor of getting you up on your birthday? I don’t think so! Not when you have me around!” He sat the plate of breakfast at a side table by Maya’s bed on her left. “You’re nineteen now, I was making nineteen pancakes when I realized that's a lot, even for your appetite. I couldn’t risk giving you that many today. So I just put nineteen different berries that I thought would taste good with pancakes instead.”

“You underestimate how many pancakes I can eat and then some,” Maya told him as she sat up to eat. “Where did you get that many berries anyway??”

“Oh, Uncle Arthur came by to help!” Cornelius smiled brightly.

“I see, so… other than that, did you have that nightmare again?” She asked, picking up her fork and butter knife to cut a piece of her food. Cornelius halted and his shoulders hunched up. She startled him.

“I thought I did a good job hiding it. How did you know?” He turned around.

“You never wake up early with this much energy.” Maya ate off her fork.

“I do on special occasions!” He replied in an almost astonished way. “And you call yourself my sister. Here I thought you knew me.”

“It was only a guess until you just admitted it.” Maya smiled.

“Well, I can’t say that I’d call it a nightmare.”

“I think repeatedly seeing someone you don't know in your dreams is creepy enough to be called a nightmare.” Maya replied.

“Yes, but he doesn't do anything, just stands there. Surely I've seen him before. I heard from my friends that sometimes we dream of the people we’ve seen whether we know them or not. So I’ve seen him somewhere.”

“Or,” Maya chewed. “Perhaps you just imagined it. Sometimes dreams make stuff up. You've never seen his face so it could easily be in your own mind.”

“Anyway, get up! Or else you’ll be late for college and drop me off at school. I already ate and put away the leftovers.”

“Leftovers?”

“I told you I made nineteen pancakes. You had three and I had two.” Cornelius told her as he left the room.

Later, Maya grabbed her bag and Cornelius put on his backpack. As he ran over to the door, Maya grabbed his bag and picked him up.

“Where is your school stuff?” She asked him.

“In my bag, I have everything this time, I won’t forget my stuff anymore. I made a checklist!” He pulled out a small notebook. Everything he needed was checked.

“Alright then...” They went to the car and drove to a nice elementary school. “Okay. You know the rules, you know what to do if there is an emergency, and don’t forget your homework if you have any.”

“Love you, Maya!” Cornelius hugged her through the window before leaving.

“Love you too Corey!”

“Have a nice day!” Cornelius yelled back as he ran to his friends. Maya went to her college next. Greeting her friends, they walked towards their classrooms.

“Sooooooooooo!” The taller of the two with long black hair leaned down to Maya.

“Yeeeeeeeeeees, Ki?” Maya replied similarly.

“Happy birthday!” Ki pulled out a party popper and pulled the string, confetti blown into the air. Some of it landed in Maya's bangs.

“Happy birthday Maya!” Her other friend with half circle glasses clapped her hands.

“Why thank you girls.” Maya brushed the confetti from her hair.

“Have any plans after our classes today?” The one with the glasses and short white hair asked.

“So far it's just hanging out with you girls at the party. Why do you ask?”

Ki grinned. “Oh, I just have something mildly interesting is all.”

“Does Latte know it too?” Maya turned to the friend with glasses. She shrugged.

“Nope!” Ki was smiling so much with excitement. “Coffee-lover over here knows as much as you do. The only thing I will say, is make sure you bring your little brother too. This is something for all of us to enjoy.” and with that Ki didn't say anything else about the surprise for the entire day.

The clock rang gently in the courtyard as the sun was past the middle of the sky. Classes were dismissed. Maya’s teacher stood up quickly and stiffly. Pushing up his rectangular glasses he held up a clipboard of paper.

“Hold up! Students! I have something for you! They are for the internships you have tomorrow at the Lab! Make sure you sign your name on it if you want to go!” Maya signed her name on the paper and left with her friends.

“Maya, we'll pick you and Corey up at your house in an hour. Make sure you both use the bathroom before leaving!” Ki waved a temporary goodbye as Maya got in the passenger seat of her own car.

“Friends have a surprise for you?” said Maya's uncle. He was a positive with black hair and sharp eyes.

“Did you use your First Factor to hear that?” Maya clicked her seatbelt in.

“Maaaaaybeeeee…“ Arthur began to drive to the elementary school.

⚫⚪⚫⚪⚫⚪⚫

Cornelius was sitting on a bench in front of his school. It was a cloudy day, and he watched other kids getting picked up by their mothers and fathers to go home. He was swinging his legs back and forth while thinking about them. A mother and a father… he wondered what it was like having them. He only knew his Uncle and sister ever since he could remember. Maya knew what their mother looked like, sounded like, how she used to smile or cry or get angry or tired, she knew all these things. She was alive for Maya. He felt a little sad thinking about this, so he looked around for a distraction. The sky was getting cloudier, making blotches of dark shadows on the ground.

“It's probably going to rain later I guess.” He thought to himself aloud. Something then moved in the corner of his eyes. He looked to his left across the street. Nothing but a tree… he got up from the bench, feeling like he was being watched. Crossing the street he peeked behind the tree. Nothing was there… No one was there…

I must be seeing things again. He sighed to himself, feeling silly.

“Cornelius!” Arthur honked the car horn. A cute BEE BEEP sounded from the red vehicle. Cornelius ran over and got in the car.

“What were you doing over there Cornelius?” Maya asked him as they went on their way home.

“Oh, nothing, just looking at bugs. I drew a really cool butterfly today!” He pulled out a piece of paper from his backpack.

“That masterpiece should go in an art gallery!” Arthur complimented before driving again.

“Were you seeing shadows again too?” Maya asked suspiciously.

“Again? Too?” Arthur repeated, oblivious.

“Was not! I said I was looking at bugs!” Cornelius insisted.

“Huh???” Their uncle was confused.

“Uncle Arthur, you should take Cornelius to the doctor as soon as possible, he's having nightmares again and now he's seeing the shadows too.”

“I am not Maya!”

“You avoid eye contact when you lie, Cornelius.” Maya replied simply.

“Ugh…” he folded his arms and turned away.

“The nightmares I've known about for years, but the shadows are news to me. When did this first start?” Arthur asked the two. Maya answered him.

“Last year, in the spring. Cornelius said he thought he saw something just out of sight often. I thought they'd gone away since he hasn't seen them in a month but I guess not. He's been acting weird for the past few days so I figured it was happening again.”

“You should become a detective like Uncle Arthur at this rate Maya.” Cornelius spoke up for a moment.

“Corey, bud, you can't hide these things, you shouldn't. We're family, you know you can tell us these things.” Arthur spoke kindly to his nephew, making Cornelius ease up.

“Well, it's like I told Maya this morning, I don't consider the dreams as nightmares. Nothing there is scary or feels bad. It's just dark, a little cold, and usually there's a couple specks of dust.”

“And the person standing in the darkness, ominously.” Maya added.

“I’ll schedule an appointment for him just in case. You know what I like to say, better safe than sorry!”

“But I really am fine…” Cornelius muttered.

“My friends are going to pick me and Corey up for a surprise, so we gotta hurry up, okay Corey?” Maya turned in her seat to look back at him.

“I'm coming with you?”

“Ki said it was something you'd want to see.”

“Ah, Maya, don't go in the kitchen. I have stuff in there.” Their uncle told her as the car pulled up into the driveway.

“Oooooh, Uncle Arthur has Maya's birthday stuff ready!” Cornelius jumped out of the car and ran inside.

“Kind of, it's not done yet!” Entering the house Maya walked past the kitchen without looking. Arthur hung up his jacket on the coat rack and followed down the hallway. “Have you guys ever thought of taking the mirrors in this hallway down?” He asked while fixing his hair in a golden framed one.

“No, why?” Maya came back after putting away her school things.

“Oh, it's just about Sebastian. You know…”

“Ohhhh, is that why he doesn't come by here often?”

“Most likely.”

“I wonder what happened in that mirror maze. How did he become afraid of these anyway?” Maya certainly didn't understand, all a mirror could do is reflect what's in front of it.

“He never said why, looked a little angry too. Best not ask him I think.”

“Hm, mom liked these here so I'm not removing them.” Maya turned away and headed for the door. “My friends will be here any second.”

Cornelius ran down the hall to his sister as a blue van pulled up in front of the house.

“You kids be careful and have fun now! Text me when you get there and when you're done!” Arthur called after them.

“We will sir!” Ki yelled back as everyone waved goodbye.

Closing the door Arthur walked to the kitchen. On the island we're ingredients. He found a pink apron and washed his hands. He gathered all his enthusiasm…

“Alright! Time to tackle my first cake!”

[shallyne]

Feysand Week Day Four

Feyre couldn't remember when she last felt so much happiness about feeling the sun on her face. It was Feyre, Nyx, and Rhys's first walk together as a family after Nyx's birth. They made small rounds through the garden for Feyre's sake because she couldn't sit still but this was their first real walk. Rhys pushed Nyx's stroller, Feyre walking, more like limping at this part of recovery, beside him and had one hand on the handle of the stroller. Nyx was sound asleep and tugged in. Even though Feyre had insisted she was ready for a walk, she got nervous when it was finally time. She fussed, made checklists to make sure Nyx had everything he needed and checked it three times while explaining to Rhys what was important and why it was important. He knew, of course he did after reading endless books throughout her pregnancy and asking the doctors a million question, but he still listened intently and nodded. He knew it would calm bet down and if he caught her at the wrong moment, she would bite his head off. Feyre had apologized countless of times after she snapped at him for changing his diaper wrong. It wasn't wrong but Feyre had to suffer from mood swings these days even more than during her pregnancy and her husband was so understanding. Sometimes she just wanted to kiss him breathless for it and sometimes she wished he would snap back when she was being especially moody but he wouldn't. He was with her through it all, drying her tears, giving her room when she was in a bad mood, laughing with her and standing at Nyx's crib for hours in the middle of the night, watching as their son slept. Feyre always watched him in wonder, barely believing that she had a son. That they had a son. They were parents. The second night after Nyx was born, Feyre cried silent tears as she caressed her son's chubby cheeks, promising him that she would never be like her mother. Nyx would always be loved, Nyx would always have a shoulder to cry on and a listening ear for his dreams and his fears. He would never be alone, Feyre promised.

She sighed, walking down the cobblestone streets with Rhys and then turning into a little street surrounded by trees. Her legs became tired already and she was still hurting. "Can we stop for a minute?" she asked, pointing to the wooden bench on the walkway.

"Of course," Rhys said softly, swiping with his sleeve over the bench before Feyre sat down, groaning. From there they could look at the Sidra, shimmering like a sapphire in the early spring sun. "Are you cold?" Rhys asked her.

Feyre shook her head, scooting a little forward to find a comfortable position. "This is nice," she said, turning her face towards the sun again.

Rhys agreed, checking if Nyx was alright in the stroller. He was still asleep. "Are you in pain?" he asked her, nodding to the hand Feyre rested on her stomach.

"No," she sighed. She did it subconsciously, resting her hand right above the scar on her stomach. It sometimes hurt but most of the time it was only an uncomfortable tug, an echo of the previous pain. She was on strict bedrest for the first few days after the birth, to heal. This was the reason she needed to go out today, she went mad inside the house for too long. Just a little walk with her family.

She extended her hand for Rhys to take it. He did, planting a kiss on all her fingers and the back of her hand. She wanted to rest her head on his shoulder but the strain of that movement would hurt so she kept back, watching their surroundings. Snow had already melted and the world seemed to come back to life after winter, just in time to greet her son into the world.

Yes, Feyre felt like a mess but she would do it all again to hold Nyx into her arms.

Feysand Taglist:

@captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship @edgyellie @starfall-spirit @rhysiedarling @corcracrow @sydney-fae25 @tothestarsandwhateverend @aayo-whatt @dreamlandreader @officialfeysandweek2023

[authorsharonforester]

Messy Thoughts Stomp On Writing Routines

I am here to tell you that I am going to be dedicated to writing, and this is one of the ways it is going to happen  (maybe). I still have a lot to figure out, but instead of letting my head get the best of me, I am going to be figuring things out. One by one. One at a time... and not let my brain warp its attention to other things that won't be good for me.

I feel overwhelmed when I have a lot of projects I've barely started, projects that are halfway through, or projects that I haven't touched. I am also caught with wanting to be published and famous and have everything handled, but it seems like I am never getting there. Negative thoughts consume me regarding wanting to be in that heavenly place where you get to be paid for writing what you love in a way that sets you up for the rest of your life.  Have you ever had any of those familiar feelings before? Of course, you have. And if you haven't, then boy, lucky you.

I know very well that trying to do the work to make your dream come true is one of the hardest things we could ever do in life. We feel we need to get things done so quickly. if not, we feel we might die tonight. We are also eager to be in a place we are not yet ready for. We are also very good at comparing ourselves to other people. We also try to shoot too high on things. That's when we know we need to slow down.

It's like all of these things run over and over in your head and you don't know how to make it stop.

I know that accomplishing a fraction of a goal is way better than nothing. It is a very good way to make a goal that is easy for anyone to shoot for. In other words, we need to create baby steps to mark off from a checklist.

I see a lot of people out there in the world living their writing dream and accomplishing parts of their dreams the rest of us wish we could land in. I also see a lot of people trying to make their writing dreams come true, but it seems impossible, especially when we are sitting back and watching it all happen.

The trick to all this is that we need to make small actions everyday that make up the bigger works. There is no way around hard work. If you're in the "I wish" and the angry phase, that is okay. I have been this way myself. But the important thing is that I know that you and I are going to be all right. Writing this story is part of my small goal that is going to help me move forward. I'll have many more from here. It won't stop for any of us.

Right now, it is your turn to find your small goal that will help you move forward. So, what's it going to be?

[cordeliahrose]

Spring Equinox

The spring equinox takes place between March 19 and March 22. That may be the official date, but when does spring really start? When do you begin to notice that it's spring?

As we come into spring we start to notice things. Leaves growing back on the trees, birds coming back again, bugs starting to come out, maybe even flowers sprouting. But the weather is still quite cold, and we may think, Is it spring already?

I began to notice the incoming spring at the beginning of March. Birds were out rustling in the trees, butterflies, wasps, and bees came out, and my young blackberry bush began to sprout leaves. The weather also got about 10 degrees warmer. For me, this was the start of spring. But I still choose the celebrate the equinox on the official date. Why? Because I always have, and because it gives me to prepare.

And that's what the spring equinox is all about. Preparing to take action towards the goals you set during the winter. It's a time of sowing seeds, literally and metaphorically.

How Can You Celebrate The Spring Equinox?

Sow your seeds

Literally: plant the fruits, veggies, herbs, flowers, or whatever else it is you plan to grow this season. Get your hands in the dirt and connect with the earth and the new spring time.

Metaphorically: Set the intentions you have for this coming season. Quarterly goals are great for all areas of life. What goals do you want to accomplish in the next 3 months? Make a plan for what you're going to do to accomplish them. You might chose to keep your goals aligned with the spring season. In this case, here are some ideas:

~ New ideas and projects. That new art project you see in your mind, or that new business idea you've been dreaming up. Maybe someone asked you to collaborate on an idea, now is a time to say yes.

~ Growth. Personal, business, family, any goal you have that involves something growing and/or improving.

~ Gardening. Maybe you want to start a small garden, or add a new plant to an existing one.

~ Community. Litter clean up projects, community gardening projects, fundraisers for causes around your area. Spring is a good time to bring the community together.

Have a picnic or cookout with family and/or friends

Celebrate the spring time with your family and/or friends. Cook or bake some foods that are in season at this time and enjoy the weather together. You can find tons of lists with a quick search about what foods are in season. You can also visit a local farmers market if possible!

Spring cleaning

This is definitely one you hear all the time, but it's a good one! What better way to bring in the new season than getting rid of the dust and clutter from the previous? Here are some ideas:

~Physically clean your area. Your house, your yard, or even just your bedroom. Make a project of it if you'd rather. Pick a different area to clean each day, or whatever time block works best for you. Write them down on a checklist with the day you plan them, and check them off when you've done them. This will actually help you stay motivated for it too, every time you check one off the list.

~ Cleanse your area. Whether it be with smoke, sound, crystals, words, or whatever other method you choose to use.

~ Switch up or tidy up your altar if you have one.

~ Clean out your inbox. Emails, text messages, social media notifications, clean out everything you don't need. Unfollow those people who mess up your feed, block those negative messages, unsubscribe from unwanted emails.

Spend some time outside. Go on a hike, watch the sunrise or sunset, visit a local park. Stargaze after dark, look for constellations and planets. There's a couple of good apps that help with this, Skyview and Stellarium. I personally use Stellarium.

Do some magic. Spring is a great time to do manifestation, workings around friendship, love, and community, workings to bring in abundance and wealth, workings for health, and workings to aid in personal growth. I'll be posting one of my favorite spring time workings soon!

Give spring time offerings to the deities and spirits you work with. Flowers, leaves, acorns, honey, fresh fruits, baked goods, milk, spring inspired art.

These are just a few ideas that come from my view of spring. I encourage everyone to look at how they view the spring time and figure out what works for them!

[dearlyanqels]

The Boyfriend Series — Red Velvet

nearly four years, that's how long you two have been dating. he was the one to ask for the moment of a lifetime.

Seokjin

Dinner, Check.

Favorite Show, Check.

Favorite Snacks, Check.

Matching PJs, in the dryer but check.

he look please with the little mess of the living room you two created before his mental checklist happen. tonight was the night, the night that was going to past down to your grandkids, he was for sure topping this one on the cake of magical nights for sure. "my love, where have you--" he walk into the shared room and saw you on the phone screaming at someone on the other line.

your mother, whom hated seokjin, not because she hated men, it was because he 'dragged' you up to Seoul. "look I told you many times, this is our life." you said, he could partially feel the heat coming from your shoulders.

to be really honest, it was not his fault. you were twenty five at the time, and your mother loved to baby you so he can see where she is coming from; however you did this action on your own. two years later, she still got very angry at him, he hated your mother. "mom, seokjin is in-- obviously we live togther, no goodbye" you threw your phone and laid flat on the shared bed. he slowly got on top of you and kiss your nose. "honeybee, why get stress over her? this is our night, here get dress, movie is about to come on, and the food delivery is here. I'll get your pajamas" he kiss your nose once again before lifting off.

"when did you get so romantic, you use to hate these types of things" you said finally getting into the warm, and comfortable attire. "since we started to date, living room now" he demanded, you smiled and walk away. when you were out of his sight, he grab the small red box, the beautiful size, purple (ish) diamond was sat in it.

he huffed and was ready to do this.

about an hour into the show, the food was chowed down, the snacks were half gone, and the drinks were on the second round. he pause the show and grab your face. "babe, we been togther for nearly four-- going on five and I think this is amazing time" you sat up straight and look him dead in the eye.

every emotion ever set with you, you even let the overthinking get to you. "I know this is not how you imagine our night to be, but I hope it will be the night you'll always remember" he said, your heart was racing faster than your thoughts. "I know you you been planning our lives since we got to get and it's time to set that into motion, fuck why am I more nervous" you saw his shaking fingers land over his pajama pocket.

the small box made everything stop, your mouth was dry, your anxiety was at its peak at this point. ever since you were a child you've always dreamt of this moment, the one knee, the box, the question. "---- will please let me have the honor to marry you?" you felt your tears rush, but you couldn't move or even talk.

a minute passed, and seokjin begin to worry. "honey? a-are you going to say something?" you blink a few times to get brought back into reality. "I'm not dreaming?" you ask him. once you saw that beautiful, radiant smile on his face you knew this was not a dream. "holy shit" you said huffing out "oh my, yes seokjin I will marry you" you jump into his arms, causing a collision onto the floor.

he kiss your lips and then repeatedly kiss your face with the most joy and happiness feeling ever. "wait-- let me slip the ring on" he said, you felt the ring go perfectly on your left finger. "how-" before you could ask seokjin started to talk "remember when jimin and you took a little time, I ask him to make sure I knew your ring size" he smirk and check your smile.

"you sly son of a bitch" you said kissing him once more until your phone went off.

[blametheeditor]

Incident 8000-1

Content Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of death and murder. Mentions of weapons. Mentions of violence. Darker themes and tone.

SCP-8000's File

What can Cadence say? He's an enabler.

___________________________________

“Is today the day it does literally anything?” 

The sound of something falling into a chair along with papers flung carelessly onto the counter is heard through the intercom closely after a door slamming shut. 

Silence. 

“Nope,” Cadence murmurs as he sits back, kicking his feet up because there’s no reason to be ‘professional’ while watching the most boring SCP possible. 

Despite the act of uninterest, he still goes through the checklist he’s filled the same answers to since day one of being assigned SCP-8000. Or better known by everyone on staff, a jar of what most likely used to be an anomaly but the true one escaped months ago by replacing itself with ink. 

Did it visibly change while being unobserved? 

No. 

2. Did it react to a voice over the intercom? 

Another big n-o. 

Cadence glances at the motionless jar of black liquid sitting on a table in the small cell strictly for observation before lazily pulling the microphone toward him, knowing this is all a waste of time. But if he doesn’t do it, someone’s writing him up for not following protocol. 

“Please shake the jar if you want anything.” 

Just as he suspected, not a single ripple. 

“Please turn into a floating black void if you are going to do anything but stay inside the jar and be the most boring SCP imaginable.” 

Nothing. 

And who could have possibly guessed! But now that he got that over with, the white haired young man can take a nap for the six hours he’s scheduled to ‘observe’. Time in which not a single other person will come in to check and see what he’s doing because there’s no point. And after his shift is over no one else will come in to observe the anomaly, because for the same reason as before, there’s no point. 

On one hand, Cadence is certainly grateful to be assigned to a safe SCP. He’s seen how even euclids are dealt with, and that kind of stress is not what he wants nor needs. Not to mention that despite the fact that kind of class tends to mean ‘dangerous’, it’s idiots who are put in charge of research with even more idiots surrounding them. Because if he was being honest, he’s more scared of the team assigned to the SCP than he is the actual anomaly. 

On the other hand, at this point he’s fairly certain this one is meant to have people slowly wither away and die out of boredom. 

A single red eye slowly opens to spot the jar that still has not moved so much as an inch. 

What a life it is to be stuck in a jar 24/7. Apparently it’s fantastic considering the SCP has done nothing but sit there. Despite the fact this form is not its ‘true’ form. Despite the fact it can and had previously transformed into multiple different items. 

Despite the fact there is no lid to force it to stay that way. 

At this point, the dedicated display of a ten out of 10 rating that a Mason jar is the place to spend every second in almost makes him want to have a jar of his own. There has to be an anomaly that could make his dreams come true. Might as well considering Cadence is also just wasting away. There’s no telling when the higher ups will proclaim this SCP as a dud and either make the executive decision to neutralize it, or stick it in a closet before tossing its observer to the nearest anomaly that guarantees death. 

No, he’s not exaggerating. Going off of the notes, it consistently chose the jar out of every offered container. 

Cadence pauses as he glances over a section stating just how...passive SCP-8000 is. Because if he was it, anyone coming in and dumping him onto the table to see if he stays a liquid deserves getting tased. 

Although, that is assuming it can ‘utilize’ itself without someone’s assistance. He doesn’t know how far the qualities of its main form extend when it transforms. It might be impossible to hover while it’s a taser. And who’s to say it can’t flip a switch and therefore could possibly hover, but then there’s no electricity and making it more of an ordeal than desired. 

Don’t worry, he’s always thinking about violence. Be happy he’s imagining a taser for hypothetical retaliation. 

He glances over the notes one last time. Looks up at the motionless SCP. 

...he’s a complete idiot for actually contemplating going into the room with the sole purpose to try and annoy it. He’s worked at this site long enough to know that not everything is what it seems, and while this anomaly seems to be one neutral to humans, who’s to say it has an unknown trigger they just haven’t found yet. 

He should just stay in his chair. Take a nice nap before reporting the same thing as he had yesterday. And the day before. Which will be the same thing tomorrow. And the day after. 

Cadence stands up before meaning on his . Glances between the door into the room containing SCP-8000, and the anomaly itself. 

Opens it with a dramatic flourish, muscles tense in preparation for...something. Anything. 

He’s only stared at mockingly for being afraid of an anomaly that only rippled due to the disturbance caused by the man himself. 

That was certainly anti-climatic. 

Cadence takes the opportunity to leave the room without anything happening and promptly throws it out the window as he strides over to the table. He only remembers he left the door wide open for the SCP to possibly escape through once he’s within grabbing distance of the jar. But with there still being no reaction, he wishes he placed a bet on the side it had escaped and left normal ink behind. 

“Why don’t we just move you over here...” 

Nothing happens as he carefully drags the jar from the center of the table over toward the corner. All for the hope such an action will annoy it enough to do something. Because apparently someone walking into the room for the first time in over a month still doesn’t constitute something more than pretending to be liquid. 

But, the idiot known as Cadence not being careful despite interacting with an SCP they know essentially nothing about, him placing it too close to the edge and allowing it to fall and shatter upon impact? That earned a reaction. 

He barely had any time to process what happened. He could only appreciate the fact closed-toed shoes and pants are required to be worn under the lab coat and therefore didn’t earn any glass shards shredding his feet or ankles. Blink at the sight of the anomaly looking like any normal liquid spilt on the floor other than seemingly more held together. 

And then the puddle known as SCP-8000 lunges at him. 

Cadence feels what shouldn’t be a solid form latch onto his leg. His first instinct is to run. His second is to realize just how stupid an idea that is and instead takes off his coat in the hopes he can use it to dislodge the anomaly. 

It actually works. He manages to wrap the piece of cloth around the solid liquid, at least managing to trap it. Of course, that means trapping it on his leg, but at least there’s no possible way for it to make contact with his skin. At the very least he’s only been minimally exposed. Not- 

Who’s the disembodied voice now, bitch!

Cadence screams as he attempts to scramble away from the anomaly. Throws the lab coat as far away from him as possible. Freezes when he realizes it was no longer on his leg. 

Where- where did it go. 

Right here!

The young man feels a mental push to look to his right. To stare at the living liquid currently creating a black band around his arm. 

Cadence, is it? Your name’s as cute as you look.

“You’re certainly a flirt,” he barely manages to say. But the longer he stares at the SCP, the more it becomes clear it has no intention of doing anything more than talking to him. “And what’s your name, darling?” 

Anything you’d like to call me, baby.

It’s actually flirting with him. “Does this mean you won’t kill me?” 

As much as it seems you want to be killed, that’s not really my style.

“Ah.” Cadence pokes at the band. Stares as it flows across his fingers like water uncontrolled by gravity. “And here I thought you would want to take revenge over breaking your favorite jar.” 

I really did like it. But who needs it when I can make one of my own!

Just like that, SCP-8000 seems to disappear from his hands, and in its place sits a Mason jar just like the shattered one only a few feet away. 

Cadence lifts it up. Flicks the glass to test it’s an exact replica. Just like the reports state and yet he never saw the entire time he was assigned to watch the SCP. Up until now, hearing an excitable voice that had never been mentioned as well. 

Oh, and I can become this, too! 

Red eyes blink. Stare at the taser sitting in his hand. One he essentially had to catch considering the jar he previously held had been a much larger object. And before he can say anything, it bursts to life as the sound of buzzing fills the air. 

Cadence waits for the demonstration to end before flicking the switch himself to turn it on and off. “Well aren’t you full of surprises.” 

And I've got so much more up my sleeve.

“Says the anomaly who doesn’t wear clothing,” he mutters, tossing the taser before catching it once again. He doesn’t get a single comment on the action. If anything, the SCP seems happy to just be interacted with. Even if that is being treated like an inanimate object. 

Right. He’s currently holding an anomaly. 

“You wouldn’t tell on me to my superiors I completely neglected protocol, would you?” 

Of course not, my evening star.

“And for being such a darling, maybe I can take you out of this room for a couple hours a day.” 

The taser turns into water falling through his fingers as the SCP radiates smugness. 

You read my mind!

“More like you read mine,” Cadence huffs. He looks back at the jar that managed to be the key to what seems like an interesting partnership. Realizes he has no where to put the liquid void enjoying itself creating another puddle impossible to store with no other container in sight. “You wouldn’t be a good anomaly and turn into a jar to wait patiently hear, would you?” 

Nope!

It sounds so smug knowing he’s backed into a corner. 

“Anyway you can disguise yourself as I inform the containment specialist for this sector?” 

There’s no response other than SCP-8000 racing up his arms as it seems to think. He takes the opportunity to put his coat back on, needing to make it seem as if he only reacted to a situation and hadn’t caused it. 

He hesitates when there’s movement close to his collar, glancing down to spot his name staring back at him on a standard name-tag each scientist wears on site. Except he tends to leave his inside his office. 

How does this work?

Honestly, it’s a bit genius. 

Cadence quickly walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. He straightens his coat before grabbing the paperwork that will need to be updated. With that he walks out of the observation room, purposeful steps making him look hurried but not panicked as he makes his way to the office of his supervisor. 

“You okay, John?” 

He nearly brushes right past the concerned woman, mentally sputtering when it becomes clear she was calling him 'John'. Despite never having introduced himself to anyone on site as such, and she’s an unfamiliar stranger to him. 

Damn, I should’ve gone with Wallace. John seems to be a bit overused.

How Cadence forgot his name-tag was an anomaly that can change its shape into anything on its own whim, he will never know. 

And why the thought of it changing his name just because it can also never crossed his mind will be a mystery never to be solved. 

Yet he doesn’t force the SCP to pick something else to shift into after assuring her that he’s okay, simply in a hurry. Not even when someone else calls him ‘Wallace’. And his supervisor looks at him in confusion knowing his name isn’t ‘SCP-8000’. 

[serendipitouswasteland]

Sweater Weather

ship: buddie pov: third person written: April 10 - 12, 2023 first published: April 12, 2023 word count: 2,569 - summary: Buck wears a sweater almost too often. Eddie notices. - A/N: Pretty much, I have become obsessed with the sweater Buck is wearing at the end of 6x13 and have decided that it's his favorite sweater and he washes it as often as he can so he can wear it as often as he can because it's a comfort for him, because I have a sweater that I do that with so therefore...you get it. Enjoy. <3

Buck has a list. A checklist. After getting struck by lightning– after his coma dream– he felt like he needed to make sure he was still there– still alive. So, every morning when he wakes up the first thing he does is grab his phone and text Bobby. He doesn’t leave his messages until he receives a response. Then, if he has work, he waits until he gets there to ask Eddie and Chim about Christopher, Maddie, and Jee-Yun, respectively. On his off days, however, Buck’s mind scrambles for a bit. Texting Bobby every morning is fine. He texts him all the time anyways just to update him on his life, so him now asking for Bobby to do the same wasn’t too much different. Calling Maddie and Chimney and Eddie, though, is hard to do without someone becoming suspicious. This morning, Buck is lucky.

As Buck blinks open his eyes and stretches in his bed, a small smile appears on his face knowing that some of his checklist he doesn’t have to do. He crawls out of bed, sliding his feet into a pair of slippers as he yawns and stretches some more. He gets up from his bed, grabbing his phone and sending a text to Bobby as he trudges down the stairs. Buck puts his phone into the pocker of his sweats once he reaches the bottom step, looking over to his kitchen where Christopher is sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal already half eaten. Buck smiles, taking a seat next to him and making his own bowl.

“Goodmorning,” Buck says, his voice filled with slip.

“Goodmorning,” Chris says back, taking a bite of his food.

“How long have you been up?”

“Not very long.”

“That’s good,” Buck hums, nodding as he takes his first bite of his own cereal.

“Buck,” Christopher prods, and Buck hums while turning to face him, “isn’t that the same sweater you wore yesterday?”

“Uh…” Buck looks down at his chest, and, yes, it is the same sweater, but—

“How come you didn’t have to change but I did?” Chris asks, and Buck lets out a short laugh.

“Well, buddy, I did change. I changed my pants.”

“But you didn’t change your sweater.

“Yes, I didn’t change my sweater,” Buck says, sighing as he takes another bite. “You are right about that. Now, your dad will be here soon to pick you and your cookies up, so why don’t you go ahead and get ready, alright?”

“Yes, Buck,” Chris sighs, leaving the table and going to where his second bag is in the living room before going to the bathroom with his clothes after.

Buck gets up from the table shortly after, cleaning up both of their bowls then starting the coffee maker. There’s a knock at his door right as he gets it going, so he quickly shouts that he’ll be right there before finishing up. Buck skids over to the door, opening it up instantly to find Eddie standing on the other side, and Buck lets out a breathless smile, and—

(Look, it’s not like Eddie was keeping track. Well, he was, but it was easier to pretend that he wasn’t. So, no, Eddie wasn’t keeping track. He’s not. He just, maybe, kind of, sort of, is. It’s Buck’s fault. Or, if you were to ask Eddie, those would likely be the words out of his mouth and, well, he’s not wrong, but it also wasn’t Eddie’s job to notice…or is it? Buck is the one who came over to Eddie’s house when he wanted to escape his own loft. Buck is the one who went to Eddie as a place of comfort where he knew he would be looked after. So, maybe it is Eddie’s job—)

Eddie is staring at Buck. It’s been seventeen hours since he’d dropped Christopher off with him, and now Buck is wearing the same sweater as when he’d dropped Chris off the evening before. Eddie tilts his head at Buck as the door is opened for him further, stepping inside. He glances back at Buck who has his brows furrowed as his hands fall to rest on his hips. Eddie looks away, letting out a sigh as he steps towards the kitchen, hearing a door open a moment later and turning around to find Christopher dressed and ready coming out of the bathroom.

“Dad!” Christopher shouts, giving his dad a hug.

Buck shuts the door, going to the living room and grabbing both of Christopher’s bags, handing his school bag to Eddie before going to the bathroom. He picks up Chris’s pajamas and stuffs them in the bag before going back to the kitchen, handing that to Eddie, too. Buck then grabs the container of cookies sitting on his kitchen counter, handing them to Chris.

“Alright. Are you ready to go?” Eddie asks, Buck standing against the fridge.

“Ready!” Chris says, giving Buck a hug. “Will you come over later?”

“Of course, bud. I’ll see you later,” Buck says as Chris and Eddie begin to make their way toward the door.

“I love you, Buck! I’ll see you soon!” Chris shouts from the doorway, waving.

“Love you too, kid!” Buck calls after him and returns his wave, giving a big smile.

Buck glances at Eddie who’s staring right back at him, the same grin on his face that Buck has. Eddie gives Buck a nod, and then the door to Buck’s loft shuts and he’s left standing alone in his kitchen. The coffee maker goes off, so he goes and grabs a mug out of the cabinet before filling it. In truth, he’s exhausted. He’s always exhausted now. He’s been sleeping more on shift, but he’s pushing through. Eddie checks on him sometimes, but for the most part he leaves him alone unless necessary. Bobby does the same. If anyone is hovering, it’s Hen and Chim– something Buck will have to call Maddie about later.

After finishing his coffee, Buck goes upstairs to change before deciding to shower. He grabs a pair of jeans and goes to his bathroom, thoroughly ridding himself of any germs garnered from the day before. He spends a considerable amount of time on his hair, lately having taken a liking to his natural curl pattern and wanting to take care of it properly. Once finished, he slips into the jeans then pulls on his sweater, only he doesn’t think anything of it. It’s his sweater. His favorite sweater. A new sweater, sure, but still his favorite.

Buck moseys around his loft for a while, cleaning up random things that he finds. For the first time all week, he makes his bed, smiling at the neatly made comforter and sheets. Then he bounds downstairs, falling onto his couch as he turns on the TV to watch the Dodgers versus Giants game. After a while, though, his eyes start to flutter, and he yawns. He turns the TV down low, hoping that will allow him to fall asleep, but then his body focuses on the feeling of the couch beneath him instead of the game and it’s far from comfortable. Buck groans, rolling off the couch and dragging himself upstairs, falling flat onto his bed. He’s out within seconds.

It’s not until several hours later that Buck wakes up, his loft having become dim with the only light being emitted from his TV downstairs. Buck rubs his eyes, climbing out of bed and going downstairs, sighing once he’s realized he missed the rest of the game. He picks up his phone off the coffee table to check the score when he finds a message and two missed calls from Eddie, along with one voicemail. Buck furrows his brows, the voicemail being the first thing he checks.

“Hey, so I just got Chris from school and we’re on our way home. I figured I’d let you know so you could start making your way over, but…anyway, I’ll see you in a bit. Bye.”

It’s short, sweet, and to the point and– and it fills Buck’s heart. He smiles, pulling the phone away from his ear when a sudden rush of guilt hits him. It’s dark out, which means that he’s late and Chris is likely in bed already. Cursing at himself, Buck quickly slips on a pair of shoes, rushing out of his apartment. He gets in the car and dials Eddie’s phone immediately, but he doesn’t receive an answer. Halfway through his drive over, his phone starts ringing, and he tries grabbing it to answer but it falls to the floor. Buck hits his fist on the wheel, tapping nervously the rest of his way over.

The second Buck gets to Eddie’s house he doesn’t waste a second in getting out of his Jeep and jogging to the front door. He twists the knob and the door opens with ease, and Buck lets out a deep sigh. Eddie pops his head out from the hall, smiling when he sees who it is.

“Hey,” Eddie says, grinning and nodding to the kitchen. “Are you hungry?”

“Uh, no,” Buck says, shaking his head and sitting on the couch. “I take it you just made sure Chris is in bed?”

“Yup,” Eddie says, falling to sit next to Buck. “Sorry I missed your call. I tried calling you back, but you didn’t answer.”

“I was in the car. My phone fell, and I figured the risk of an accident wasn’t worth it.”

“That’s fair,” Eddie says, grabbing a beer off the coffee table and taking a swig. “Do you want one?”

“No, I’m good. I’m sorry for not coming over sooner.”

“It’s fine. After the second call, I figured you were asleep. I take it I was right?”

“I was watching the Dodgers game.”

“You turned your phone off for baseball?”

“What? No, I– I was watching the Dodgers game and I started falling asleep. I went upstairs, fell on my bed, and it was lights out instantly.”

“So I was right.”

“How’d you guess that in the first place?” Buck asks with a tilt of his head.

“You’re still wearing the same sweater as before,” Eddie says, pointing at Buck, and Buck, of course, looks down, sighing when he finds Eddie is right.

“Right,” Buck says, holding his hand out and a second later Eddie’s beer is in his hand.

“So, what’s going on?” Eddie asks, eyes never leaving Buck. He has a soft look on his face, and if this wasn’t such a serious conversation Buck just might smile in return.

“Nothing,” Buck says with a shrug, and Eddie’s eyes narrow on him. “The sweater is comforting for me.”

“Can you explain that?” Eddie asks, and it’s not mean or cruel, but effortlessly kind. It’s easy to see where Chris gets it from.

“Uh, well, it feels– it’s like a hug. Like one big, giant hug, constantly, and if I need a tighter hug I can just tug on it and I’ll feel better. It’s nice. It makes me feel safe.”

“Mmm,” Eddie hums, eyes finally trailing away from Buck and to his TV instead.

“What?” Buck asks, leaning over just a bit, and he can see a smile pull at the corner of Eddie’s mouth.

“Just thinking,” Eddie responds, smile growing more.

“About?” Buck asks, and now the front of Buck’s shoulder is pressing into the side of Eddie’s, the two impossibly close.

“How to make you feel safe no matter what you’re wearing,” Eddie admits as he finally looks at Buck again, and Buck can tell that it’s honest and true.

“Just being here helps,” Buck says, giving Eddie the sweetest smile he can muster.

“You know,” Eddie says, pulling at Buck’s sweater, “it doesn’t look bad on you. In fact, I think you should wear sweaters more often.”

“You think so?” Buck asks, and oh, are their faces close.

“Dad?” They hear from the hall, slowly breaking apart.

“Yeah, bud?” Eddie asks, getting up from the couch.

“You forgot my glass of water,” Chris says, and Buck smiles at the comfort it brings him.

“Want me to get it?” Buck asks, and Eddie turns to look at him, about to protest when Chris lights up with joy.

“Buck!”

“Buck—” Eddie cuts himself off, running a hand over his face.

“Sorry,” Buck says, giving Christopher a hug. “I’m getting you your water and then it’s off to bed, alright? Dad and I were having a very important conversation.”

“Yes, sir!” Chris says with a big grin, and Buck smiles and laughs, going right to the kitchen. He grabs a cup with a straw and a lid and fills it up with ice water, bringing it back to Chris in under a minute.

“There. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner, but I’ll see you in the morning, alright?”

“Goodnight, Buck,” Chris yawns, giving Buck another hug before going back down the hall.

“Goodnight, Christopher,” Buck whispers once he’s already halfway down the hall, lingering in the doorway a moment before falling back onto the couch, his head falling into Eddie’s lap.

Both of Eddie’s hands immediately come to comb through Buck’s hair, detangling any mess that there is. Yeah, Buck thinks, I feel safe here. It’s not a question at all, but a mere fact. Being at Eddie’s house, on Eddie’s couch, in Eddie’s arms– all of it feels safe. He feels like nothing can hurt him as long as he’s confined within the walls of Eddie’s home, and that’s something that he could really use as of late.

“So,” Eddie starts, one of his hands trailing away from Buck’s hair, resting on his chest instead, “you’re planning on staying the night?”

“If that’s alright,” Buck responds, his own hand coming to hold Eddie’s in its place.

That was new. Since getting struck by lightning– since dying– Eddie has constantly reached out for Buck, keeping him close, and when they’re alone placing his hand on his heart just to make sure that it’s still there and still beating. It’s when Eddie’s hand trails away, though, that things are weird, because it’s never the same. Tonight is no different, Eddie looking at Buck as he moves his hand away from Buck’s chest and rather to caress his cheek.

“You’re still here,” Eddie whispers, his voice barely audible.

“I’m still here,” Buck assures, hand still wrapped around Eddie’s. “We’re still here.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, properly interlocking his and Buck’s hands, “we are.”

“You should get to bed,” Buck says, sitting up, but Eddie only pulls him closer, Buck’s back falling flush against Eddie’s chest.

“So should you,” Eddie says, wrapping his arms around Buck’s middle.

“Eddie…” Buck sighs, turning his head away, as if that would change their current positions.

“You said that just being here is a comfort,” Eddie whispers into Buck’s ear, clocking the reaction Buck has, “so why not see if I can comfort you more?”

“How?” Buck asks, and he already knows the answer, but– god, Eddie doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“Just let me hold you. You were tense until my fingers landed in your hair before, so I have to assume that means that me touching you helps, right? So let me hold you,” Eddie pleas, and Buck melts against him immediately, rolling around in his place to hug Eddie’s torso.

“Thank you,” Buck whispers, and Eddie doesn’t give a verbal response, simply holding Buck tighter. I love you so much.

[fanfic-enthusiast]

Holiday Party Fervor

His friends were due to arrive any moment. Ratau stretched his back and went over his mental checklist of everything he had for the party one more time.

Decorations, check. Cookies, check. Candy canes, check. Eggnog, check. Knucklebones, of course.

He breathed a sigh of relief, tugging at the knit scarf around his neck. Everything should go fine. This would be great! This was the first holiday party the four of them have had in years. The tradition fell out of fashion for the four of them to get together when the weather got chilly. Stopping right around the time when Ratau had lost his crown all those years ago.

It felt nice setting up decorations around the shack to make it feel festive. It gave the small space a kind of warm and cozy feeling. All that the now cheerful shack needed were some guests to really make the space come to life.

As this thought entered the rat’s mind he heard a knock on the door.

“Hurry up Ratau, we are freezing out here!!”

“Oh! Coming!!” He's quick to reach the door and open it wide, all three of his friends stand there wrapped in winter coats and scarves to stave off the winter chill. “My friends welcome!”

“Oh cut the formalitiesss Ratau, we are just glad to sssee you again.”

“Yes! We couldn’t wait to party again like we used to, Bop was going on about it the whole trip here.” The worm on top of Klunko’s head nodded slightly as Klunko crossed the threshold and started removing his coat. Moving to help Flinky out of his winter ware as well.

“Hmf. It actually looks nice here for a change.” One of the best compliments to come from Shrumy in all honesty, warmed the old rat’s heart.

“Glad to have you all here my friends. What do you say we start off the night with a few rounds of Knucklebones?” Varied expressions of approval filled the space as the friends settled around their favorite pastime. Interrupted only briefly when Klunko got up from the table to fetch everyone in the group a tall glass of eggnog, dusted with cinnamon.

The space was soon filled with festive laughter and cheer as the group of friends rolled dice and drank together. The fire in the stove may have kept the shack warm from the elements outside but the comradery between these four brought a kind of warmth to the space that had been missing for far too long. That Ratau missed for far too long.

Having his friends over so often for game nights was different than this, this festive cheer that only came about when all of them were together for the holidays. Each of them brought something to the group that made gatherings feel incomplete if they weren’t present. Even Shrumy with his sourpuss attitude.

Speaking of Shrumy, he even surprised everyone with holiday sweaters for this get together! One for each of them! Along with some excuse of them being ‘no good for betting against if they were half frozen.’

They were very nicely made as well, the turtle put a good deal of time into making each custom sweater special. The pattern on Klunko’s even had an image of his severed hand sewn on the front which brought quite the hearty laugh from the crow when he spotted it.

“I still intend to win that back!”

“Ha! In your dreams, bird brain.” Shrumy shifted his shell to show off the hand strapped to the side of it before turning away yet again.

Donning their new festive sweaters they set about eating and drinking more eggnog together around the knucklebones table.

“Hey Ratau?” Klunko swirled his drink a little. “Did you make the eggnog differently this year? Tastes stronger than usual?”

“Hm? Oh yes! Just a little bit… I think? I wanted to make sure this would be a fun night for everybody so I got out the good stuff. Might have gone a little overboard.” “Oh! That's nice! You didn’t have to do that! It's great just spending time with you all for the holidays.” “Yesss it’sss been agesss after all.” Flinky smiled and took another long sip of the egg nog. “That being sssaid I’m not complaining about the ssspecial treatment. Hehehee.” Shrumy nodded in agreement and tossed his dice onto the table. And Ratau smiled, he was feeling quite touched by all his friends wanting to be around him like this. Meant they would be doing this again next year, and longer still after that if their luck held. Only time will tell. All that was left for him for tonight was to enjoy the company and celebration of friendship around him.

~

While the moon hangs high in the sky and the forest outside is blanketed in white snow and silence, the inside of the shack was full of more than just warmth and light. It was full of the best kind of warm lively chaos that happened when good friends got together.

Candycanes were shared along with the eggnog and other treats Ratau had prepared for the evening. He even got out some mistletoe for a few pranks, something he hadn’t done since their last holiday party. Dangling it above his friends heads without one’s knowledge sent him into laughter fairly easily. Though it usually came with ‘revenge’ of some kind later in the evening.

He would have to worry about that later however. Because as of right now, the only thing on his mind was song.

“I WON'T ASK FOR MUCH THIS CHRISTMAS!!! THIS IS ALL IM ASKIN FOOORRRRR!!!”

Ratau was on top of the knucklebones table, face flushed with his scarf wrapped around his forehead, holding his staff to his mouth like a microphone. While the rest of the friends swayed with the music and laughed nearly as loud as his singing. “I JUST WANNA SEE MY BABY STANDIN RIGHT OUTSIDE MY DOOORRR!!!”

“I jusst want you for my own!!” Flinky climbed up on the table and coiled around Ratau, squeezing a bit. “More than you could ever know!!” Klunko joined them on top, wrappin his arm around the two of them while Bop struggled to stay on his feathery head as they swayed. “Make my wish come truuuuuueeee!!!” Shrumy clambered up to them, on the table for his piece. The furniture squeaked under his feet. “ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAAAAAAAS IS YOOOOOOUUUUUU!!!” All four of them shrieked to the ceiling before falling to the floor from the table top in fits of giggles and ramblings of the lyrics. Flinky still coiled up around Ratau who laughed between hiccups. Shrumy slammed his fist on the floor as he was overcome with giggles. And Klunko struggled to get his feet under him, holding onto the table as he too was made weak in the knees with laughter.

Yeah… perhaps Ratau did go a bit too overboard with the eggnog.

~

Lamb tucked the gifts into their fleece as he stepped up to the door of the lonely shack. “Ratau? Happy Holidays! I have some things for you and the others.” No reply came from the door, which was odd. “Hello?” Lamb took it upon themselves to open up the door to the shack and was stopped in their tracks by the sight before them. Ratau was laying on top of the knucklebones table, fast asleep with some mistletoe tied to his tail, covered in red lipstick. Klunko was just coming to, in the corner of the room, where he had a candy cane tied to the stump where his hand used to be. Which he waved at Lamb lazily with a slurred “Hi there wee Laaaammmmbb.”

Shrumy was on the floor still out cold, wearing red lipstick and surrounded by a couple mostly empty punch bowls. Which… explained why Ratau was covered in makeup. And… Lamb looked around a bit more, then up and yep. There was Flinky, coiled around the rafters with a santa hat and snow white beard. “...Ill come back later tonight then.” And Lamb closed the door behind him with a chuckle. Leaving the old men to sort themselves out.

Klunko looked over his shoulder to Bop, who was curled up in the corner next to him munching on a cookie. “We… are absolutely doing this again next year Bop. Yeeaaaahhh.”

~~~

This was a secret Santa request for @teeteekaa

[what-if-rpg]

Welcome to the family, SUMMER! Your application to BLAINE ANDERSON was accepted. We’re really happy to have you around! Make sure to read the beginners checklist, and remember, have fun! We can’t wait to roleplay with you! Have fun!

IN CHARACTER

CHARACTER NAME: Blaine Devon Anderson CHARACTER AGE & DATE OF BIRTH: 27, April 18th. OCCUPATION: Broadway Actor, Songwriter FACE CLAIM: Darren Criss HOMETOWN & CITY WHERE LIVES NOW: Westerville, Ohio. Currently lives in New York City. SEXUAL ORIENTATION & GENDER: Gay, Male. RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Married to Kurt Hummel POSITIVE TRAITS: Charismatic, Modest, Supportive NEGATIVE TRAITS: Insecure, Impulsive, Dramatic CHARACTER QUOTE/LYRIC: “Prejudice is just ignorance.”

HEADCANONS

When your older brother is perfect at everything he does, it’s not always easy to keep up. Cooper was ten years older than Blaine, and although their age gap and individual differences did play a role in impacting their relationship, however it was Cooper’s overly critical and nitpicking attitude that bothered Blaine the most. As a kid, Blaine had always felt so small in front of his older brother. Cooper was talented, charming, and everyone adored him. It wasn’t easy growing up with someone like that, but Blaine still looked up to Cooper. The more Cooper criticized and picked on him, the harder he worked to live up to his expectations.

Blaine can be very charming and confident when he wants to be, but he also likes to use those traits as some sort of mask to cover up his insecurities. His feelings of inadequacy started with Cooper, but it got worse after he came out to his parents and was rejected by his own father. Then, things sort of escalated from there, what with the bullying that he faced and later on Sadie Hawkins. Needless to say, feelings of shame and guilt still followed him around like a shadow since that day.

Transferring to Mckinley to be with Kurt was a turning point for Blaine. Dalton was a safe space and he truly enjoyed being a Warbler, but he didn't feel like he was being his true self at Dalton. Students were expected to conform at Dalton; it felt more like he was playing the role of Blaine Warbler rather than allowing himself to be - well, himself. Mckinley was chaotic, unpredictable, and absolutely nothing like Dalton, but he made friends who treat each other like family by joining Glee, and they taught him how to be his authentic self and learn to have fun again.

Kurt calling off their engagement and breaking up with him nearly broke him as a person, causing him to run away from his dreams, from New York, and back to the safety of his home and Dalton, much like he did after Sadie Hawkins. And even though he’s happily married to Kurt now and they have a daughter together, but a part of him is still affected by it and will always feel insecure about that.

CONNECTIONS

PAMELA & TODD ANDERSON (Parents): Blaine grew up being closer to his mother than his father. His father’s rejection of his sexuality further strained their relationship, to the point where they barely spoke to one another unless it was absolutely necessary. The fake shooting incident at Mckinley brought them to their senses, however, and even though his parents are now separated, Blaine still keeps in touch with them, with him calling his mother more often than he does with his father. COOPER ANDERSON (Brother): Blaine still doesn’t know how to interact with Cooper most of the time, and their relationship is still awkward, but deep down Blaine knows that Cooper cares about him, and is trying his best to support Blaine in his own way. KURT HUMMEL (Husband): Kurt is the love of Blaine’s life. Despite their ups and downs and also differences, Blaine never stopped loving Kurt, and as if being drawn and pulled by some invisible, universal force, they always seemed to go back to one another. And although they’re happily married now, but Blaine still sees their relationship as a work in progress, and is constantly learning how to communicate better with his husband. SERENA ANDERSON-HUMMEL (Daughter): If Kurt is the love of Blaine’s life, then Serena is the culmination and proof of that undying love. While Kurt is the strict parent, Blaine couldn’t help but to spoil her instead. He would buy her sweet treats and new toys, always giving in to her requests and pleas (much to Kurt's dismay) SAM EVANS & TINA COHEN-CHANG (Best Friends): They were the trio who were there for each other at Mckinley. Sam was there for Blaine when he cheated on Kurt by stopping him from running away to Dalton. Blaine is forever grateful towards Sam for being in his corner, even when he was at his lowest. They bonded over superheroes and games and Star Wars since, and Blaine truly admires Sam for the genuine and supportive person that he is. As for Tina, she developed a crush on Blaine while Blaine was crushing on Sam during their senior years, but things were never awkward between them. If anything, they became closer over the years and their friendship is still as strong as ever. SEBASTIAN SMYTHE (Close Friend): While it’s true that Sebastian almost blinded Blaine back in high school, but Sebastian has since turned over a new leaf and Blaine is all for giving someone the redemption they deserve and second chances. Besides, once a Warbler, always a Warbler. RACHEL BERRY (Friend): Blaine and Rachel became good friends when he went back to Ohio that year, where they both supported each other even though they were also rivals at the same time. Blaine has always admired and worshipped Rachel’s grit and talent, and their relationship only became stronger when Rachel became the surrogate for Serena. DAVID KAROFSKY (Ex-Boyfriend): Blaine and David had an amicable breakup, hence they’re still on good terms. While their relationship only lasted for a short period of time, but Blaine will always look back at it with great fondness.

[exclusivenyc]

We just spotted EVAN ALEXANDER SLATER ( HARRY STYLES ) hopping off a plane in the City that Never Sleeps! Make sure to send in your account within 24 hours and read our NEW MEMBER CHECKLIST before getting settled. Can you make it in the Big Apple?

Not everyone can say they’ve been to the Big Apple, but  [ EVAN ALEXANDER SLATER ], a [ 28 ] year-old [ CIS MALE ] has lived in [ MANHATTAN ] for [ HIS WHOLE LIFE, ON AND OFF ]. This is the city of dreams and [ HE ] knows it, because they came to NYC to be an [ WRITER / COMPOSER ]. Well, that and as a/n [ COUCH CRASHER ] to [ IREUN ‘RAIN’ PAE ]. Living in the city means they meet all kinds of people, but everyone always seems to think they look like [ HARRY STYLES ]. They even got away with free cab fare once because of it!

HEADCANONS: (must list at least 3)

Born to an American realtor mother and English academic father, Evan jokes that he’s been ‘tossed around’ the UK and US all his life. Somewhat of an identity crisis there, with an accent too transatlantic to be British, but too Manchester-bred to ever pass for a true New Yorker.

Majored in Literature at Cambridge University (one of the few universities his father teaches at), and Music at Julliard. He’s a shy man with a talent for telling stories, be them through the paced out words of a poem or the right beat of a melody. It all started to click, upon the realization one doesn’t negate the other: but rather, it’s the perfect overlap of two distinct forms of art.

His life and personality are nothing but erratic. Periods of absolute bliss end with sudden crashes of chaos, the world which seemed to be floating peacefully above his head suddenly crashing on his shoulders. In a true example of this, Evan goes through phases of being on his parents’ good side, to striking a fight so immense that he finds himself crashing at a friend’s couch... for longer than intended.

Not quite the ever talked about Nepo Baby, but even through his struggles, Evan does have a safety-net to fall upon, should all fail. At 28, he’s finished a couple of poetry collections (published, but without much buzz outside of a niche), and contributed musical compositions to unknown artists, One Night Only concerts, and small upcoming off off ooooff Broadway shows.

Countless unfinished notebooks, guitars named after different literary heroines, poetry written on the back of cereal boxes. Messily rolled blunts, messy hair, ink littering his skin with little to no meaning.

Think young Richard Siken, and Richard Siken’s Crush. Think Kill Your Darlings. Think Tick Tick Boom’s Jon, La La Land’s Sebastian, Titanic’s Jack, Whiplash’s Andrew.

Think, a young man with feelings he can't always translate into speech, so he resorts to unorthodox ways instead.

(s, 28, est, she/her, no triggers)

[ignitingwriting]

Igniting Writing ‘Mealtime’ Contest 2024, Submission by Neriya

Mealtime

Sweat was dripping profusely from the girl in front of me. Her forehead was all tensed up, like she was about to explode any moment.

I picked up a silver spoon. It was placed very delicately in front of me. The napkin under it was embroidered with shiny gold stars. The spoon felt cold yet warm in my shaking hands.

Tomato sauce glinted under the tube light above me, the cheese melting my heart. I slowly pushed the piece of silver closer to the dish in front of me. My food seemed to be taunting me. I mustered up all my courage and shoved my spoon into the dish.

Long silky strands of spaghetti were occupying half of my spoon while the other half was tomato sauce with beef on top. I pulled my spoon to my mouth and gently put it inside. The moment I took it out, my mouth was bursting with flavour all at once, salty and rich, moist and smooth. I closed my eyes to do my checklist. If the beef Bolognese was satisfactory enough.

I averted my eyes to the contestant. Her name was Evangeline. We both stared at each other; she was worried and I was chewing. I bent down and picked up a very elegant golden bow, the type that you would award to a person for such excellence at any activity.

And the moment came. Evangeline looked at me with tears in her eyes, her neck showing every and all signs of fright. I stood up. In that moment, everyone went silent. The golden bow was in my hands and I clenched it.

My hand shot across and the words that followed came out as loud and bold. “You are being awarded the chance to go to Paris for studies at the French Cooking Academy.”

A roar of applause broke out amongst the audience. Evangeline broke down in tears and bowed down to me, like I was some sort of goddess. She looked at the crowd and smiled. Such a happy ending.

I am Lucy Crawford. Worldwide cooking judge, food critic, whatever you want to call it. But labels aren’t nearly as close as they are to reality. This is my story. Quite an odd one, but it remains one of the most inspiring ones to date. At least, I think so.

You might be wondering what I had done to have such a high title in this modern world. And that story, my friend, begins on a flight.

I remember quite clearly what the situation was. I grew up in Spain, from a very poor family. As we were barely surviving, I was fixed on the idea of going to the US to become a lawyer and to be able to provide more for my parents further on in life. They highly encouraged me and helped me with this project and we saved enough to send me to LA for college.

I had said my goodbyes and hopped in a cab. The plush heated seats were something that I wasn’t used to and desperately wished to not end.

The airport was a majestic building, where you go to pursue your dreams and run away happily. Or so they said. All I thought of the airport was that it was cold and the lines where long. How convenient for a first-time flyer.

“May I see your passport?” a lady stood behind a counter and asked me questions. A lady with the most impeccable make up application, but to counter that she had quite a groggy face. Like she had been there for hours. To be fair she probably had been.

I slipped my passport and boarding pass across the marble counter and wondered where I would be seated on the flight. “You will be seated in the aisle seat.” Not to mention this lady had an awfully husky voice. I nodded and went on my way to the gate.

Once I boarded the flight, we soon took off. The food that we were offered was horrible, but because I was so used to not eating such large quantities of food, I thought it was the best thing I had ever eaten.

We soon landed and I booked a cab to the dormitories. The first thing I noticed when I got there was the rooms were very large. In reality they were actually very small, but I hadn’t minded because of the beds. The beds where the comfiest. In Spain, we would just sleep on the floor, but here there were soft beds. I truly slept like a baby those nights.

My roommate, Dot, used to constantly make fun of me, but in a friendly way. She acted like I had never seen proper clothes, food, or anything and proceeded to explain what everything was. Yet, we got along well. I balanced her teasing with a little of my own.

Our dorm had kitchens that were big enough to make cereal. I was making some homemade pasta for dinner in the evening, mac and cheese. It was your average mac and cheese; heck, I didn’t even make it myself, it was from the box. I stirred the concoction and started plating. I placed the mac and cheese evenly on both our plates and stepped back. Mac and cheese is not a healthy food, but it beautiful from afar.

I blinked my eyes and saw a salt sprinkler on the table. My mind was telling me that it was a very childish thing to do. Sprinkle salt on my roommate’s food that I made for her. Childish but fair. It was I who usually called Dot in for our little meals, so I had much time as I would need to add a tiny bit of salt to her dish.

I felt the cold glass echo in my hands when the angel on the right side of my shoulder was telling me that it was a bad idea and more importantly a bad thing to do. But the devil on the other shoulder encouraged me, saying that it was just a bit of fun. And a bit of fun never hurt anybody.

I sprinkled the salt over her mac and cheese. Then stepped back. You couldn’t tell it was there. “Dot, dinner’s ready.”

In a worn-out Hello Kitty shirt and some plaid joggers, Dot stepped out. “Mmm, this looks delicious, Lucy! Looks a bit plain though,” she foolishly retorted. She truly had no idea what amount of agony she was going to be in. Did I mention that I nearly emptied the salt bottle on her dish? But that didn’t matter…

She took a bite. Her famished face slowly churned into a disgusted expression and she started to gag. “LUCY, WHAT DID YOU PUT IN THESE?! WHY ARE THEY SO SALTY?”

I simply responded with a quick giggle and waved away her suspicions. “Oh, nothing, just a bit of love, that’s all.” Dot frowned at me and ran to the sink, then proceeded to spit more than she ever had in her lifetime.

Those were good days. Until I hit a bump. Not a speed bump, a big giant mountain. Things would never be the same again. I had walked in to my college classroom to take our finals. This was the test that determined whether or not we would become high profile lawyers.

Our teacher, Miss Debrah, was super strict on us, which caused stress for everyone. She didn’t have a soul, that woman. I wanted to give up, but I had worked so hard for this moment, so I was under no circumstances going to mess this up. I pushed through and gave it my all for this test.

And at last, it was over. I didn’t know at the moment what was going to happen next and I certainly wasn’t prepared for it. A week had gone by, surprisingly really quickly. I was happy and nothing could ruin it. Until it did.

Miss Debrah had called me in to her office for a chat. I found her office quite calming and relaxed, unlike herself. “Miss Crawford, you have been an excellent addition to this class, but I regret to inform you that you are no longer a part of this school. We have to let you go.”

The words stab like a sharp knife cutting through the layers of my body. The feeling is so painful I stutter to ask why. “The school thinks that people from certain backgrounds, such as yourself, are not good enough to successfully complete such education.”

Knowing that I would be kicked out and had to go back to Spain and disappoint my parents would be horrible, but this was 10 times worse. “I don’t mean to sound conceited, but this is so messed up! What kind of college prevents people of some background from education?”

I wanted to sound courageous, but the tears stinging in my eyes made my voice break, like a little child crying about a broken arm. Miss Debrah looked at me with a horrible smile and it felt like she might as well be the big bad wolf in this story.

“This college does. Young lady, you are starting to step out of line; please excuse yourself out of this office and pack up. Your flight will leave at 5:00am tomorrow.”

The witch had spoken. There was nothing I could do about it. Expect I made things worse.

“I hate you.”

Miss Debrah looked at me as if I had spit in her face a million times. Then I just walked out. I couldn’t take any more of this nonsense. The last thing I could do was cook. After all, it was only 10:00pm when I stopped crying.

Dot comforted me as much as she could, but it wasn’t nearly enough. “That goblin has something coming for her, I’ll tell you that. She had some nerve to…”

Halfway through Dot’s sentence, her stomach growled. What was I thinking? “Dot, I’m sorry, I’ll make you some food. You must be so hungry. I promise not to poison you this time.”

I smiled and Dot smiled back. Finally, something was happening around here. I prepped the kitchen and started to cook. Through my sadness. Through my pain. Through my confusion. I guess I was lost in the process because I don’t even remember what I cooked that night. The thoughts spiralled in my head, begging me not to lose full control. And I didn’t. I set up the table and got the dish ready. I called Dot in for dinner and we started to eat.

It had only been a few moments of silence before Dot spoke. “Lucy Crawford, I don't know what to say. This is the best meal I've ever had! Your dish is amazing!”

That moment changed everything. Dot, impressed, insisted on enrolling me in the country’s most prestigious cooking school. Despite the early morning hour and my flight, we rushed to the school. We got turned away in the beginning, but our persistence paid off when they agreed to taste my dish. Soon enough, they offered me a place!

My culinary journey took off. I graduated top of my class with honours, launched my own cooking show that hooked millions of viewers worldwide and I climbed the ranks to become a renowned food judge. Today, I host my own show and serve as an inspiration to aspiring chefs everywhere.

Looking back, that mealtime, that night in the dorm kitchen wasn’t just about cooking a meal. It was about discovering my true passion and the start of an incredible adventure that would define my life.