#but also like I was looking through old photos to see if I could track progress and 1 idk if I rlly could it’s hard I take bad photos and

[opens-up-4-nobody]

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[alittleemo]

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[darnell-la]

how about dark!logan and ex-girlfriend human reader. They broke up bcs she thought he was cheating on her, but turns out it was just misunderstanding and now dark!logan gets jealous that she already moved on from her

note: this story was an emotional roller coaster, but that’s how we like it. we love a bit of chaos and overreaction.

in this story, Logan is pretty emotional whether that’s him being sad at first or turning into a wild animal once he gets y/n back. of course, his jealousy is mentioned when he FUCKS y/n. he HATED how close she was to a man while he was being ignored.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

“We’re done, Logan, and that’s that,” Y/n said before she walked away from the man. “Y/n! — Hey!” The man stalked after her, confused about where this attitude came from.

“You’re not going to just break up with me, and walk away without an explanation!” The man said as he sped in front of her to stop her in her tracks.

“You get no explanation, just like I didn’t. I’ve been confused, hurt, upset, and left for months! You can deal with it for the rest of your life,”

That was the last time y/n had talked to Logan. The young woman packed her stuff at night so she wouldn’t cause a scene, and left.

Y/n feels off about being here again. It’s been a year, and she hasn’t quite talked to anyone since then. Of course, Charles would speak to her through her thoughts, but at times, she shut him out.

Hank, Storm, and Jean try to invite her to parties or get-togethers, thinking she’d maybe come one day, but she never does. She was in a whole new state in those times.

Scott on the other hand messaged her every day he could. Apart from her thoughts he only wanted to get close to her, to get at Logan from past jealousy, but in actuality, he genuinely liked her company.

The man texted her every day, even called and somehow, she’d answer him. Scott felt special that out of everyone, she’d answer him.

Logan was the only one in the group that had no contact with y/n. She had blocked the man anytime a new number or social media account popped up. He was desperate, and she hated it. She hated him.

“Charles said you were coming. Didn’t believe it until now,” Scott said as he walked out of the mansion, instantly picking y/n up into a hug. “Did you get stronger?” Y/n laughed after the man placed her down. “You can say that,”

“Y/n!?” Storm shouted before her, Hank and Jean ran over to her, giving her a group hug. For a second, she felt bad for leaving them all behind, but after Logan, she had to go somewhere. She couldn’t stay around anymore.

“How long are you staying?” Hank asked as he grabbed her bags, as well as Scott's. “Maybe a night or two,” she replied making them all sigh. “Seriously!? You can’t leave us like that. Not again,” Jean spoke.

Y/n didn’t hate Jean, but when she looked at the woman, she felt pain. It wasn’t her fault that Logan couldn’t put aside his feelings.

“Maybe I’ll stay long,” Y/n said before walking into the mansion. Storm and Jean drifted off to finish whatever they were doing while Hank and Scott took her to her room. Her old room that she hadn’t really slept in since she used to be with Logan all the time.

“Logan will be here. He went out to get wood,” Hank said before he left. “You okay with being back? You never really told us why you did,” Scott spoke after y/n sat down on her bed.

“Oh, just some personal things going on. That’s it,” she said. “Heard you haven’t talked to Logan. Was he the reason why you left?” He asked as he sat next to the young lady. He knew it was, but didn’t know why.

“I don’t really feel like talking about it or him. I kinda don’t even wanna see him,” y/n said, making Scott chuckle. “I feel you on that, but Logan’s crushed. I hate the man, but I also hate to see a teammate distracted,”

Scott got up and walked towards her room door, ready to get back to what he was doing. “Think about it, because my motorcycle just pulled up,” Scott said before leaving.

Y/n sighed, knowing Logan was going to make his way straight up here. She didn’t know how he’d react. She didn’t know how she’d react. What will she possibly do or say?

Y/n said in silence for only a couple of minutes before her door opened. He had pushed it open, not believing she was here until he saw her.

“Y/n,” he said before rushing over to her. The man dropped to his knees and hugged the girl tightly. His face hurried into her stomach as tears streamed down his face. She was really here.

“Logan,” y/n softly pushed at his shoulders, but he wouldn’t let go. He didn’t want to. It’s been a year, and he’s traveled to so many places, hoping to find her, but she was never there.

“Lo,” she spoke again, and this time, he pulled away. His hands rose to her face and cupped both of her cheeks. “I-It’s been so long,” the man looked into her eyes, making her feel like shit.

The man who couldn’t give her any attention gave it to her a year later. How dare he make her feel like this?

“Yeah — It has,” she softly pulled his hands away from his wrist. The man’s face changed from, I’m so happy you’re finally here, too, what’s going on? She’s never been this way towards him until that night. The last night he saw her.

“I’m kinda tired, so, yeah,” she spoke, wanting him away from her and out of her sight. “D-Don’t go to sleep without me, lemme get a shower in then I’ll-“ he stood up and walked towards the door, but the woman cut him off. “No,” she said with a stern voice.

“I like being alone,” she added. The man looked back at her, confused about why his girlfriend was acting this way. “Baby, what’s up with you? I-I thought that maybe since you came back, fixed whatever was going on with you,” Logan said in a soft voice.

“Whatever what going on with me!? God, Logan — Please, the fuck out,” y/n rolled her eyes. “Y/n, I didn’t mean it like-“ he tried explaining himself. “I said get the fuck out!” She yelled at the man.

Logan’s body jumped slightly, shocked at the way she was being. He didn’t know what was wrong, and she refused to tell him. It’s been a year, and she still hasn’t told him.

Logan opened his mouth, but the girl turned around and tucked herself under her covers. She was done seeing him for tonight. For the rest of the time she planned to stay here.

“Been a while since you’ve partied with us. Kinda missed that,” Scott said after he took a shot with y/n. “Yeah — I kind of missed it too,” she admitted with a smile. “Wanna dance?” The man asked in a friendly way, and she accepted.

The two went on the dance floor, dancing wide by wide for a while until he grabbed her hips. They both laughed with each other, having the most fun she’s had in a year.

“God, I’ve missed you, y/n. Texting and calling ain’t enough, you know? Maybe you should come visit me or I’ll come visit you,” he suggested. “I’ll think about it,” she smiled.

As Scott and y/n hugged it out on the floor, Logan couldn’t help but stop it. The man pushed off of the tree he was leaning back on in the distance and sped over to the two.

The man was close, about to ruin whatever the fuck they had going on, but y/n pulled away and said something to the man before she left.

Logan stopped in his tracks and watched her walk off to the side of the party. She got on her phone and began texting.

“Might stay with family for another night. I’ll be back to work soon,”

“So — How’s your night going?” Logan asked, making y/n turn around as she placed her phone in her pocket. Looking at the man in front of him felt different. When she first got here, the man looked warm out.

He had grown the beard but didn’t take care of it, his face looked dirty like he hadn’t washed it, his eyes were baggy, and she swore his body looked less fit, but not too much. Only she’d notice it…

“Can you not just fuck off? For once, Logan! Fuck!” Y/n shouted at the man who came up to her with two cups. He noticed she’d been drinking for the past few days, and even though he hated it when she did, he still brought one of the lighter drinks to maybe get close to her.

“But why? You won’t talk to me. You won’t even look at me. I-I don’t understand, y/n,” Logan’s voice cracked as he walked after y/n through the woods. “I’m goin’ to bed. Gotta leave early tomorrow,” the woman had instantly changed her mind about staying.

“W-What!?” Logan basically screamed. She hadn’t even been here for a week. She hadn’t spoken to him unless she yelled at him. She was going to leave him. Again.

“Y/n, stop it!” The man shouted as he threw the two cups to the ground and ran in front of her to stop her in her tracks. Last time, that didn’t stop her from leaving, but he’ll make sure it does this time.

“Logan — Get the fuck out of my way,” she said as she moved to the side, but before she could go any further, he grabbed her arm tightly. The man slowly grew angry, but still had all that sad emotion running through his heart.

“N-No — I-I’m not gonna let you talk to Storm, talk to Jean, talk to Hank a-and dance on Scott and leave without talking to me!” The man’s eyes teared up again.

“Well, I don’t wanna talk to you, so,” y/n went to pull away, but he tightened his grip. She was human, and he knew that grip would hurt, but he couldn’t let her go again. Not without an explanation, and even if she gave a damn good one, he wasn’t letting her out of his sight again.

“Logan, ow!” She shouted at the man, now slapping his arm. “Stop it — Stop it, y/n!” He yelled in her face, letting a deep growl escape his mouth.

“Y-You’re not leaving! — I-I’m not letting you go again, so, like— So what if you hate me now? So what i-if you don’t wanna date me anymore? Y-You don’t have to leave though,”

“Logan-“ y/n tried saying. “No! You’re not gonna fuckin’ talk to Scott, and not me!” The man finally let her arm go with a push. The look on his face made sure she knew he was angry, but all she could do was roll her eyes.

“You’re a dick, you know? All you care about is me talking to Scott, but nothing else. What about what you did, huh? What about what you did!” Y/n grew angry. “You won’t tell me what I did!” Logan shouted.

“Because you should already know! Why do I have to tell my boyfriend, now ex-boyfriend that giving another woman more attention than me, is a problem!? Why!? That’s not my place to if you’re a real man, and clearly — You’re not!”

Y/n nudged Logan’s shoulder as she walked by, but instantly got grabbed and pushed against a tree. The man held her upper arm, not letting her go anywhere.

“What the fuck are you talking about, babe? Ian never gives no other woman my attention. Not one! I-I’ve only thought about you for the past year!”

“Oh, is that true? Then why before I finally dumped your ass, Hank blabbered to me that you and Jean, your ex-kissing toy, by the way, were going on a secret mission?” Y/n finally asked.

“Oh, oh- And tell me why he also said that you choose to go on mission with her, instead of me. Tell me that! Tell me why you can’t tell me that you’re going on missions with your ex!” Y/n yelled in the man’s face with no tears in her eyes. Just full of anger.

“Baby, I — Baby, Hank wasn’t supposed to tell you-“ Logan went to say, but y/n cut him off with a wild scream as she shook her whole body. She was furious and wanted him out of her face.

“Of course, he wasn’t, you dumb bitch! Because you’re a cheating son of a bitch! A fuckin’ dumb, damn good-looking, manipulative cheater!”

“Baby, no, no- That’s not what I am. You never even asked me what was going on, you just-“ he got cut off again. “I left! I fucking left because I have no business being with a manwhore who can’t keep his dick in his beer-printed dollar tree boxers!”

Logan softly pulled y/n off of the tree and slamming her back to shut her up. “God, y/n, what the fuck — You-You can’t even let me get a sentence out without disrespecting or interrupting me,” he said. “I thought you loved those boxers,”

Y/n chuckled to herself as a tear finally slipped from her eye. “I did — That was before you decided to throw that all away,” the way she looked at him with no type of love in her eyes, broke his heart. And she had her story all wrong.

“If I wasn’t enough, why couldn’t you just tell me? Let me go and let me live my life instead of thinking someone actually loved me. Y-You say you’re not like any human I’ve dated, but you’re are. You’re like them all,”

“Hey!” Logan’s hands gripped around y/n’s neck, upset at her words. “Don’t fuckin’ disrespect me like that — Especially since you got your story all flipped and fucked up,” the man still had cracks in his voice. He was left for a year, all because of caring for y/n.

“I wasn’t fucking cheating on you. Those secret missions were days I’d leave with Jean and Storm which I bet he forgot to mention because he didn’t know you’d react like that — to go find me and you a new home to live in,”

“For months I’ve been trying to find a nice house away from people because I know how much you like being alone. I just needed woman’s help because I suck when it comes to that shit,”

Y/n’s heart rate began to slow down, and her eyes softened at his side of the story. She couldn’t think about what she’d done and caused, but she knew it was bad when her head felt light.

“As for the picking Jean to go on missions? That was shitty of me, but my excuse is that I didn’t want my girlfriend fighting fights she didn’t have to,”

“What the fuck so I look like having you come fight mutants when you’re not a mutant? Jean is one of the strongest mutants, so I chose her. Storm has to teach the kids, Hank never leaves the lab, and god knows Ian pickin’ Scott,”

“And y/n — You’re a teacher too, so why the fuck would I pull you away from what you love doing just to fight and risk your life? I rather thee others do that, then you, Bub,”

Y/n hasn’t heard that nickname in a year. Bub. She missed and, and he knew how much he missed it when she instantly began crying.

“Hey, hey,” Logan lifted the girl back to her feet after her legs gave out on her. “I’m sorry!” She cried out, fully knowing the situation, and understanding how shitty she is for leaving without asking.

“I-I thought I was helping myself, but I wasn’t! I-I hurt you and the others a-and I’m just a bad person!” She sobbed into his chest.

“Baby, no. Don’t think that way about yourself. I understand how you thought about what you did, baby. Don’t push yourself down for that,” the man pulled her head back and rubbed her tears away.

“Just make it up by staying. All that pain I felt of you ignoring me and being away from my arms are all gone away, you know why? Because you’re here right now. In front of my face looking as beautiful as you were last year,”

“I’m just so sorry, Logan,” Y/n looked down, but the man quickly lifted her chin back up. “Nah uh — we’re not feeling like this anymore. I have a lot to make up for,” the man rubbed the girl's bottom lip, happy that she was finally with him again.

“Gonna look back into those homes, and get ‘em ready for us, baby,” Logan used his free hand to trace down her body until he gripped her waist. “And then you’ll never be able to leave me again. Gonna be just us. No one else,”

Logan's lips finally touched hers, making his heart rate rise. It’s been so long, and his lips are finally back on his girl. His future.

Y/n lazily kissed back, tears still running down her cheek. The girl pulled back a few times to catch her breath, but Logan would instantly reattach their lips. He needed to taste her forever.

“C’mon, stop movin, baby,” Logan hungrily sucked on her lips, even slipping his tongue in her mouth to feel her inner cheeks. “Please, baby,” the man spoke, but y/n couldn’t grow that instant energy. She was still human.

“Baby,” Logan pulled back and looked down at his girlfriend. “Don’t fuckin’ make me wait any longer. I need you, so please fuckin’ stay still,” he demanded before leaning to go back in, but she stopped him by placing her hands on his chest.

“Give me a second, babe — Please,” she looked up at the man, but he couldn’t. “You didn’t give Scott a second,” the man said in a stern voice. “What!? — Baby, I’ve never kissed him,” she assured.

“Well, you were close. Too close, and you know how I feel about him,” Logan’s hands gripped both sides of y/n’s waist, digging his nails into the pretty little dress she wore for the night.

“You were mad at me and went straight to Scott. You fuckin’ knew that would piss me off,” y/n pushed at her taken-back boyfriend, trying to get his grip to loosen, but it never did.

“Yeah, I’ve been sad, baby. So fuckin’ sad, but the only thing I could think about was showing you who the fuck you talked to that night,” the man thought back to the day she left him.

“I heard them talk about being in touch with you — Every day y/n? Really? Textin’ that son of a bitch every day, but can’t shoot me a lil like on my message!?” Logan finally pulled his hands off of y/n’s waist, taking her dress with him.

“Logan!” The girl shouted in shock as she held the breeze on her. “Got me so fuckin’ angry, Bub. I can’t control it. Can’t get out of my head the days you’ve been away from me. The days you text him, and not me,” Logan had sniffed y/n’s neck.

“At least I don’t smell a new man on you. You know what I would’ve done if I did, baby?” The man asked, lips pressed against the girl's neck. “The same shit I’m about to do to you for humping Scott,”

Logan quickly unbuckled his belt and pulled his thick blue jeans down. Y/n opened her mouth to calm the man down, but she didn’t want to. She deserved this. He needed to get his anger out.

Y/n went to jump, but before she did, the man pulled her up himself, quickly pulling her down on his cock until every inch of him was covered.

“L-Lo!” The girl moaned loudly as her feet curled. “Augh, yes!Still fuckin’ tight,” Logan pressed y/n further into the tree as he bucked his hips upward, making sure to bruise her cervix.

The growls he let out on her ear and on her neck, made her heart raise. It was hot, but she was slightly afraid. He was going to break up, but there was nothing she could do about it. She deserved this.

“Don’t ever fuckin’ leave me again. Pretty little sluts like you are in men’s minds all the time. You need me around. Need me to keep you safe and away from them. Even Scott! — If I ever fuckin’ catch you guys eye fuckin’ again — I’ll fuck you in front of him. Make sure he knows how good this pussy’s molded for my cock,”

Logan’s sad emotions were no longer here. The man was full of anger. His girl left him over some stupid-ass miss understanding and then she almost left again after having a sweet ole dance with Scott. Oh — he wasn’t letting this go soon. Not at all.

“I bet when you spoke to him before you left, you told him to come meet you in your room. Such a fuckin’ slut. I knew you had something for that four eyed freak,” Logan’s hips snapped up against y/n’s thighs. She could barely breathe.

“I-I did no such thing,” y/n struggled to get out. “Sure you didn’t. You know you’re a pretty little thing, right? You know you can get whoever you want, and I know you wanted him. I just know it,” Logan’s mind went crazy. The jealousy showed in the man, and he didn’t care.

Logan was nothing like y/n. She left when she thought he cheated, but Logan could never. He’d hold her closer. Lock her up somewhere so she can’t do it again, then kill the guy she cheated on him with. She belonged to him, and him only.

One of Logan’s hands reached up and gripped her neck as he looked into her eyes. His eyes were dark and hers were soft and could barely stay open.

“Ima take you back to your room, and if he knocks and comes in, the sight he’ll see will be buried into his mind just like my cock in that pretty little hole you haven’t let me fuck yet,”

That threat made y/n’s cunt clench. In the back of her mind, she had wished Scott would come to her room for something so Logan could fuck her ass. She was so wet, and that leaked down the crack of her ass, making her feel like she could take him so easily.

“P-Please,” the girl begged, making the man that was fucking her into the tree, chuckle. “Slut likes being fucked in the ass? Bet it’s a virgin ass, and you’re just a dirty little whore,” Logan guessed right.

“So fuckin’ dirty — Came back to ignore me, and now I’m balls deep in your pussy — My pussy — My fuckin’ pussy, baby,” Logan twitched in the grips walls, making her close. She hasn’t felt his seed in months. She needed it.

“S-Such a dirty w-whore, Logan,” y/n admitted in a low and whiny voice. All the crying and hate she had towards the man had faded away. She loved him and never stopped. She just needed a reminder that she could never leave him. Even if she tried, like she did.

“That’s it, baby — My dirty little whore — Fuck,” Logan used a hand to grab the side of her face and pull her into a rough and sloppy kiss. She’s always tasted so damn good.

Both of them moaned in each other's mouths, sweating, breathing heavily, and feeling their climax near. They needed to cum. They needed to few each other cum.

Before they knew it, the woods filled with their moans and groans. The wet sloppy sound of Logan’s cock slipping in and out of her heat could be heard as well.

Anyone who walked by in the distance definitely heard the two, but who cared at this point? All that would do is make Logan feel better because at least then they’d go off and tell people that she really does belong to him.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” the man growled, lips all over hers as he breathed into her mouth. “So fuckin’ full of me, Bub. All filled up and up to date,” the man chuckled with a smile. He missed it. He missed her.

“T-Thank you, baby,” Y/n said low, feeling her vision slowly slip away, but she knew she would be taken care of. She was with Logan again, and he would do anything to make sure she knew she was safe and set for life.

[chrollogy]

teaser. EXERCISE ROUTINE

miya atsumu x f!reader

── next: i. Mystery man in Paris | series masterlist

synopsis: During a press conference with MSBY Black Jackals, Atsumu admits something rather brazenly.

content warning: suggestive themes, atsumu may be an idiot

word count: 567

notes: ok ok i couldn’t help but write a lil teaser for this upcoming series hehe divider: cafekitsune.

The continuous bright, flashing lights from cameras pointed to his face made Atsumu’s eyes a tad dry. Currently sat before a heap of journalists, photographers, and reporters, the blonde eagerly bounced his leg beneath the table—sure, media sessions were occasionally enjoyable but most of the time, it was boring; Atsumu held back his yawn a couple of times or else he wouldn’t hear the end of it from the media.

Low chatter, and audible shutter sounds from cameras filled the room, most questions were directed to Meian, which Atsumu had no complaints about—he’d rather be sitting there getting his candid photos taken than answer the same old recycled questions from journalists. It was always about strategies, routines, and team mindsets.

Atsumu would be lying to himself if he didn’t admit to his mind cheekily wandering over to you. He was more than curious about your day—were you cooped up in your little studio writing lyrics? Were you getting you hair done at some high end salon? Or were you also stuck in a monotonous promotional activity? Nonetheless, Atsumu hoped you were holding up better than he was. Clearly, he’d trade this for your presence right now.

“This question is actually for Miya Atsumu,” At that, his ears perked up, back straightening as the attention of the room shifted over to the team’s setter. “Seeing as you’re given ample time just before the Olympics, do you also train outside of your regular schedule during off season? What does that routine look like for you?”

Atsumu subtly shifted in his seat, briefly scanning the crowd to find the journalist before leaning to speak into the microphone situated atop the table, “Oh, yeah definitely. Even though the off season gives me enough time ta reconnect, and relax, I also like ta challenge myself a bit mostly with strength, and mobility trainin’—all that sorta stuff.”

“What about cardio? I know endurance plays a crucial role for volleyball players.” “Cardio? Yeah I do alotta that too. All sorts of it, ya’ll just have ta ask my girlfriend about it.”

Atsumu shot a cheeky wink to the ENG camera at the back of the room before leaning into his seat, a smug smile painted over his handsome face. His suggestive response caused a small commotion from his teammates, and the audience—hushed whispers, and shocked expressions were exchanged amongst journalists whereas his fellow teammates could only side eye, and nudge him.

God, Atsumu hoped you were watching the live broadcast, he could already imagine how your pretty face would look all flustered at his idiotic response—the thought made him chuckle.

And you were.

You were merely using it as white noise while testing out instrumental tracks, not really paying attention to any of the athlete’s answers until Atsumu’s dulcet voice spilled from the speakers of your phone. A small smile crept up your lips at his casual answer but that was until that idiotic response of his. All sorts of cardio? Ask my girlfriend? What the fuck was running through his mind? Your cheeks warmed at his bold reply but you also didn’t hesitate to shoot him a lengthy message about how foolish his words were.

Great. You could already see yours, and Atsumu’s name headlined in the entertainment news about how he uses sex as a form of cardio workout—as if your names plastered side by side haven’t been in the limelight enough.

—

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affiliated with @houseofsolisoccasum !

© chrollogy 2024 | don’t plagiarise, repost or steal my gif.

[cyberghouleo]

bodyguard! simon riley x celebrity! reader

To the displeasure of everyone I know, I got cod brain rot.

Inspired by: Celebrity by Slayyyter

When your manager suggested you hire a new bodyguard after your old one quit, you were not expecting a masked man with an accent to walk through your doors. 

At first, he sees you as a spoiled brat. He’s not used to being a bodyguard for someone famous, he is used to being hired as a hitman in more dangerous situations. He only accepted this job as the pay was good and his last job was nearby, but now he feels as if he's being toted around like a puppy, trailing behind you as you go along your normal day to day life.

Everything was a culture shift to him, he wasn’t used to following his clients while they shop or getting asked if you should purchase something, to which he always responded with “if that’s what you like.” He’s not used to sitting at lunch at a nearby table as your friends drill you with questions about him, questions about the mask and why he looked so differently than your previous guards. He was used to being in stressful situations, spending hours researching his client's attacker while being on alert 24/7, now he was just following you around with no immediate threats happening to you. 

While you're doing interviews or getting your makeup done before a photoshoot, he is sitting across from you in a chair with his arms crossed. He keeps his balaclava on and hardly speaks unless someone tries to deny him access behind the scenes with you. He speaks before you can, “I’m ‘er guard.” he grunts out as he keeps walking past them, following behind you. 

Trying to get to know him felt like pulling teeth, he’s standoffish and when he does answer questions, it's always short answers, even refusing to tell you his real name after you asked. You knew almost nothing about him, but that all changed once you’re alerted that your P.O box is being sent threatening letters, claiming to have a hit out on you. Ghost instructs that you are both to not leave the house until he can gather enough info about your threatener, leaving the two of you alone for several weeks.

These weeks alone cause him to slowly start opening up to you as the two of you have nothing else to do or talk about. You learn about his past clients, how this is his first high status bodyguard job, and his time in the military. He tells you bits at a time, not willing to spill too much at one time, almost testing to see how you respond to each bit of new information you learn about him. During dinner one night, he randomly speaks up. “Simon.” 

“What?”

“My name. Simon.”

It only takes a few weeks for him to track and find the person sending you the threats, and he reassures you that everything will be fine now. He doesn’t show any proof, but you trust him enough to believe him. The weeks you spent together did lead to some tension between the two of you, you are able to see a human side of him that you weren’t expecting, and you could feel yourself getting intrigued by what else you could learn about him. You scolded yourself for thinking this way towards a bodyguard, someone trying to do his job, but you also couldn’t deny the way you were starting to feel when you caught glimpses of his arms flexing underneath the tight black shirts he wore often. 

He slowly starts warming up to you and seeing you in a different light once he spends a few months inside your house. You aren’t as bratty or snobby as he expected. He tries to brush away any lingering thoughts as you ask him to help you zip up your dress, noticing how small your shoulders look under his gaze. Or when you ask him to help you put on a necklace, comparing how small your hands are to his when you hand him the necklace. 

The tension finally breaks when you are in a dressing room alone, waiting around as the photographer goes over the photos one final time before you could leave. You can feel him eyeing you up and down while you aren’t paying attention, his eyes studying the dress you were getting paid to wear and the way it hugged you. One offhand comment from you leads to him lifting you up onto the vanity counter, his mask pulled above his nose as his mouth finds yours, soft moans escaping you. Your panties are pulled to the side as his tongue circles around your clit, one hand pressed against your mouth to quiet you, so the staff doesn’t hear you cumming against his tongue. 

When in large crowds, one of his hands is always pressed against the small of your back as he guides you through the masses, the feeling of his touch lingering on your back even after he pulls away. His other hand resting close to the concealed gun he keeps at his hip, staying alert as his eyes scan through the faces to assess any threats. Crowds will naturally part once they notice how big he is and the way he towers over most of the fans.

The paparazzi gets a photo of you two together, Simon holding a few shopping bags as he trails behind you. The photo is captioned as if he was your secret boyfriend and your fans go crazy, tweeting how cute the two of you are together and how mysterious he was.

“Look, everyone thinks we are dating.” You say as you shove your phone in his face. His eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the photo, reading a comment on how good of a couple the two of you are. He only hums a response and rolls his eyes. He expects you to have a different reaction, shocked that you didn’t find it annoying but almost enduring. The idea of you being okay with the two of you being in a relationship and not just fuckbuddies ignites something deep in his stomach. 

You definitely talk him into taking a few photos of you for Instagram, instructing him on how to frame the photo as he stares blankly at the phone. When you post the photos, comments flood in asking if your mystery bodyguard was the one who took them. You often post stories with him lingering around in the background, only fueling the relationship speculation as fans talk about him living with you.

After the media starts to report more on the two of you, Ghost starts getting more offers from other celebrities to become their bodyguard. He gives them no second thought as he denies them. He will get approached with offers to pay him triple and he still waves them off, he plans on staying loyal as a bodyguard to you and you only, no matter how much they offer him.

Simon decides to make the two of you official by gifting you a necklace with his initial, something you wear and post about often, sending your fans into a bigger spiral. He finds the fans both amusing and slightly disturbing, showing how much love they have for you, yet you only get to call him yours. 

[ladyamanda123]

You guys….my head just EXPLODED

🤯🤯🤯

Okay bare with me here because my thoughts are literally chaos right now! Going to try and take you through the ninja katana that just happened to my brain!

1. Everyone has been focusing on this album being white. Taylor wore a white dress, Taylor used the 🤍, etc etc

This has been bothering my photographer mind since I very first saw the cover. That cover is not black and white. That cover is Sepia.

Rep is Black and white…..Folklore as well (though more muted and grey than stark black and white like Rep)

Poets is Sepia!

Now obviously there is no Sepia heart emoji so it could be that simple BUT Taylor is a mastermind and she doesn’t do accidents. The Sepia toned album cover is not white and that immediately drew attention to it when everyone is focused on the white aspects (which also lended itself nicely to the Rep TV/Poets bait and switch)

2. So I decided to go learn about the history of Sepia and quickly came across this very interesting article. I started reading. Immediately aspects of this colours history started setting off lightbulbs 💡

Sepia comes from the Cuttlefish’s defence mechanism. When under attack the cuttlefish releases a cloud of ink to distract the predator and make a swift (SWIFT!!) escape!?!?

Already we have the ink tie in specifically mentioning jet black (like the octopus and squid) but the cuttlefish’s defender cloud is sepia……this album is a defence mechanism so she can distract the predators (hetlors/the press) to make her escape to safety. It’s the bait and switch. The distraction. The decoy.

This was already enough to have my jaw on the floor…but wait! There’s more!

3. Sepia’s use in photography…

This love story began in black and white…in Reputation.

🎶I once believed love would be black and white….but it’s golden (Daylight)

This cover photo is very clearly Daylight after the long and tortured Midnight….now she only sees Daylight!

Sepia has come to represent a by-gone age….

Everyone thinks that Kaylor is over and done. Just an ended friendship, a burned bridge, no longer relevant…but the act of making that relationship look old was actually used to preserve that love and allow it to be long lasting!

There’s also the very obvious photography connection with the Polaroids significance to Kaylor.

Also note the nod to 1920s….along with the Clara Bow track pointed at that era here’s another possible link to the roaring 20s

Another link to Daylight coming after Midnight…the opening of the Karma music video shows the Midnights album which turns into a golden sunlight over the golden Taylor statue. Midnight to Daylight.

So as if all of this wasn’t already enough I kept reading and the next paragraph made me scream…..

The Wizard of FUCKING OZ you guys!!!!

(Side note that we have the Blake/Taylor Dorothy and Ariel combo call back here as well! Worth noting maybe Daddy I Love Him will shed some light on this Halloween Party…we know our 🎃 anon wanted us focusing on Halloween! Maybe this evening was significant in the story!)

So everyone thinks of it as black and white but it’s actually Sepia…..yes yes go on…..

So you’re telling me to create the illusion (🎶All eyes on me your illusionist) of sepia to colour they were using a body double. A double! A bait and switch! A stand in! Like every single beard relationship and every single Karlie stand in we have been seeing lately! Blake at Beyonces premiere….Keleigh at the Golden Globes, Keleigh as the bride, etc etc etc.

Slight of hand, more illusions and bait and switch imagery to make the art work and the magic happen.

Holy Shit!!!

I need to go pass out now!

Link to the Sepia article:

[lokideservesahug]

Against All Odds

Pairing: Sergio 'Checo' Pérez x wife!reader

Warnings: Mentions of crashes, children, swearing, slightly suggestive towards the end.

Notes: I'm not the most confident with this but I really hope I did this request some justice...

Request: Could you do fic for Checo Perez with wife reader? It was when he was at Racing Point when he won his first race at the 2020 Sakhir GP. She was worried when there was a crash and he was involved. But she was quickly assured that he was fine. He wanted to win that race for his wife and their children. So, he decides to fight his way through. Just something for his first win. You decide how it goes. Thanks!! :)))

°•°•°•

Summary: What happens after a driver crashes? They retire right? Well a certain Mexican driver may have a different agenda to the average pilot...

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

You had never understood people when they said that their heart stop but when you saw on the big screen the racing point car hit the wall, you sure felt it. It was an accident, sure you know that but when the Renault behind him knocks his back end, you can't help but feel a brief moment of restatement towards the Frenchman that hit your husband. Your thoughts are still working in overdrive when you hear a few mumbles about lack of response. Shit. Checo hasn't responded yet. You squeeze your sons shoulder ad he grabs your leg, clearly worried about his father.

You just stare at the screen, waiting. Hoping. Praying. You can't even feel yourself breathe until... "I'm ok" the grunt of your husband made the entire mood of the garage shifts to be slightly less sombre. You can't even focus on your surroundings but when you see your husband pull back onto the track you grow slightly confused. "He's continuing?" You turn to the nearest crew member you can find. He nods his head and says something about Checo insisting on continuing to race and you can't help but smile and be proud if the sheer drive (no pun intended) of your lover.

He makes some truly amazing overtakes after the crash. And when Checo begins to come closer and closer to George you can feel yourself become short of breath for the second time today. The 63rd lap comes and goes but on the 64th lap, he completes the most glorious overtake (at least to you) and begins to lead the race. You can't stop yourself from smiling as everyone else in the garage jumps and cheers at his current P1 standing. You all continue watching on the edges of your setas as the laps race by. 70. 75. 80. 85. And by the time it reaches the 86th lap, the atmosphere in the motor point garage is buzzing. Nothing is for certain yet and anything can happen in a sport as unpredictable as Formula 1 you all know that but with Checo strongly keeping his lead for the past 22 laps and with Estaban being quite a bit behind, you're very confident in Checo's ability to keep his lead for the last lap.

You feel like electric with how much excitement you are feeling from those around you and also from your own excitement. You can't help but wonder how your children are reacting to the current predicament. Yes they are Young but that doenst mean they aren't their father's #1 supporters. They've only just become old enough to actualy form their own opinions about F1 and you can't even begin to explain your husbands excitement when they decided to support their father (even when you gave them a choice to support any driver they wanted). You turn to look at them (your son having gone to sit down next to his sister a few laps ago) only to see your son and daughter staying staying the screen in awe, with big smiles on their faces. You take a photo to show to your husband later.

And you don't even register Sergio Cross the finish line before you are being hugged by someone and then pulled to hug another person. The excitement is overwhelming and a huge grin splits open your mouth when you relapse what has just happened. Checo has won. For the first time ever, he's come out victorious. He ended lap 1 in last place, got crashed into earlier and still managed to win. Holy shit, this is unrealistic. The somehow rowdy garage manages to silence itself when your hisbands voice filters over the team radio but as you hear your husband speak his mither tongue and request that your son is watching. You can help but tear up at the sudden reality of the situation. He's really has done it.

You run out to the pit wall with the mechanics to congratulate the race winner and when he catches sight of you, he runs towards you and pulls you into his arms. The sheer happiness radiating from every direction causes him to well up and you just look at him and can't help yourself from crying. He just continues to hold you as the mechanics surround you and continue to hug and cheer for him. Your children run out, aided by a few crew members and Checo just scoops them into his arms and holds you all closely in a large family hug. You can near a few sniffles as he places his head on your shoulder but you don't have time time comment on it before he is being taken away to go to the podium.

You're at the front of the barriers with your son on your shoulders and your daughter in her little SP11 cap and pink ear defenders (which make her way too adorable) in your arms. The applause is almost overwhelming but when Checo come sout and stands on the top step, you let a few tears fall at the same time as your husband as he looks up to the sky. The Mexican national anthem fills your ears and you can help but grip your children slightly tighter to stabilise yourself and assure both them and you that this moment is real.

☆-☆-☆-☆-☆

Unsurprisingly, there are many post race celebrations especially for his maiden win. But when your husband returns to your hotel room and changes into his pajamas. You can't help but feel like this is one of your favourite moments of the day. Your husband sat on the bed with your two children sat next to them as he reads them a book before bed. Your daughter falls asleep with her head resting on her fathers bicep and you take a photo of the cute moment and csopp her up, putting her in the room adjacent to yours. Your son grabs his fathers hand and demands that the current champion pays him to bed which causes the both of you to smile. You gently shut the door when you turn to your husband. "Why did you do it?" "Hm?" He turns and looks at you curiously, surprised that you didn't follow him straight to the large ning sized bed. "Do what mi amor?" You settle next to him in bed and he wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you until your he'd is lying on his chest. "Retire after the crash." There's a brief moment of silence but clearly bot one of thought as he confidently replies "Because I ahd to for it for you all. I knew I could do it and I wanted to show to you, mis tres amores that you mean the world to me." You can't even begin to think of a response so yo just look u at him and softly bed your lips over his. He muemers in appreciation of your gesture but before he can deepen the kiss, you pull away. "As much as I would love to celebrate tonight, you deserve to rest Mr Champion" He grins at the title but pouts at the former words. "Not even a quick one?" You turn away from him. "No. Your rest is more important." You hear the rustling of sheets behind you and feel his arm wrap around your waist. "Are you sure I can't convince you sweetheart? Oh and who are you to deprive the champion of his reward?

-°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°--°•°•°•°•--•°•°•°•°-

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed.

As always, likes, reblogs and especially feedback is always welcome!

Taglist: @nikfigueiredo @mysoulispainted @leclercings @d3kstar @hiireadstuff @a-beaverhausen @nichmeddar @lozzamez3 @stinkyjax @marymustdie @littlesatanicassholebitch @mehrmonga @insanedeathwish @ems-alexandra @a-disturbing-self-reflection @cherry-piee @minkyungseokie

[alltoolewis]

Timeless- Mason Mount

I'm finally off for the summer & finally back writing! This one is super special and is inspired by timeless by Taylor swift, if you haven't heard the vault track please listen to it while reading this! This has to be one of my favourite things I have ever wrote... Hope you all enjoy & I can't wait to write more! Hope this apologies for my absence Love you guys x

P.S I will not comment on him leaving to united btw... as Liverpool fan I am devasted 😒

Summary- When you and Mason are cleaning your nan's attic you discover a book of your grandparents love story... helping Mason think of the perfect anniversary present for you...

Words- 2.6k

"Mase please.." you squealed as he wrapped his arms around you from behind, taking you by surprise as you continued to search through the old dusty boxes "This really needs doing and I never would of agreed to let you help if I knew you'd be messing around like this!" You didn't realise that agreeing to clean you nan's old attic would result in your clingy boyfriend of almost 5 years joining you. What was suppose to be a solo task, turned into a duo one the minute his brown eyes grew wide at your claim that you were leaving him for a couple of hours alone.

"I didn't know showing my beautiful girlfriend of 5 years love was classed as messing around..." he pouted, loosening his grip of you but of course not fully as his arm still hovered your waist. "It's not 5 years yet loser" You smirked, throwing something you believed was an old sock that was hiding in the box at him "We're still 3 weeks of that title!"  You still couldn't believe that it had already been that long. It felt like just yesterday that he caught your attention in the dimmed lightened room, his laugh being the loudest noise as the speakers blaring out the music you had always hated silenced, allowing you to hear what has since been your favourite sound. Since that night you had been by each others side, through the ups and downs, the spot next to him was always yours and vice versa... there was no Mason without (y/n) and he prayed there'd never have to be!

Silence filled the room once more, however the smiles never faded as you sorted through all your nans precious things. Growing up you never thought of your nan as a hoarder, her house was also tidy barely anything on display except the odd pictures of core memories but little did she know that she kept the purest things locked up here. From her old ballet shoes to her old school books, her old prom dress to a rock she found on her secret dates with your late grandfather... she kept everything.

"What's this?" Mason asked curiously, lifting up a book covered in dust and cobwebs. Being nosy of his new finding, you quickly went to where he was sitting next to him on the old fragile footstool, floor creaking as you did so. Your eyes hovered over the brown book in his hands, that it was safe to say that  time has took its toll on. Crouching down in front of him, your hand swept across the front cover, tears immediately filling your eyes as you read the words...

'THE STORY OF ANNIE & JOHN'

The words were followed by a photo of them together, smiles brighter than the stars as the look of love was written in there eyes. You had already heard the story of your grandparents many times from your nan... but seeing it in hidden pictures made your whole world freeze.

Noticing the sudden emotion in your face, Mason sighed "You okay, darling?" wiping away the fallen tears as they fell down your cheek, letting his hand hover there as a guard. Nodding, you gulped "Yeah... yeah I'm good.." Smiling he patted his knee, silencing telling you to come over which of course you obeyed. 

Now the book was on your knee as Mase held you tightly on his lap, head leaning over your shoulder as he traced comforting shapes on your arm. "Are you going to have a look honey?" He could see your clear hesitation to open it, as your hands strummed over the outskirts of the pages. Apart of you wanted to open the book, see the love of your grandparents everybody talked so dearly about, the love that was always compared to yours and Masons, however the other part of you couldn't help but think you were invading the privacy... you knew there story like the back of your hand. A secret romance that was forbidden by there families, your grandmother being in a privileged family who had a tradition to pick other privileged people for there children to fall in love with. While your grandad was the son of the maid, 2 years older than her but fell head over the heels the second he caught eyes with in his word 'a princess' They hidden what they had for years, scared that there families would tear them apart... but faith took its role and 12 years later they were happily married as a runaway couple, ready to start there new lives together.

As your mind wondered away, you felt his hand lace over yours, squeezing it tightly "It's okay (y/nn)? She would want you to see this??" You knew he was right... she'd be screaming for you to open it if she was there. Listening to him, you squeezed his hand back before opening it up. 

The pages looked just as battered as the front cover, but the love was still clear as rain. The book had different chapters, just like a fairy tale. It began with there first year, where your pop's mum first got the job and he was allowed to be involved in the staff picture where your grandmother stood just 5 people away. 

"I didn't know your grandad was in the war.." Mason whispered, scared to ruin the moment as you were flicking through there years together. It was there 7th year 'together'... the year your dad got drafted to fight in the war. "He didn't want to go" You mumbled back, hand touching the envelopes your nan had clearly stuck in the book "He wanted to stay with her although no one knew about them... he wrote her love letters, signed them off as Dave so no one knew it was from him"

"Didn't she call him Dave all the time..." Mason chuckled, squeezing your hip gently. He only had a few years with your nan, while with your pops he only had 1 short one & for the longest time he was convinced he was called 'Dave' "Yep!" You giggled back "Even after all those years together she still called him it. It was there secret code word..."

For the next couple of hours you flipped through the rest of the book, pausing to read the letters, see the small details of the grainy images. From there wedding to the birth of your mum, from the day they ran away together to the day your grandad came back to find your nan had been set up to marry someone else... it had all be recorded in the book.

Your heart broke when you flipped to the last filled page in the book, your grandads order of service leaflet from his funeral. Your heart broke even more when it came clear that your nan had placed it in by herself... ending there story together...

Noticing the tears falling faster down your face, Mason closed the book placing it gently down as he wrapped his arms tighter than ever around you, allowing you to sob in his chest. He didn't say much as you cried, just rubbed your back and whispered a few words of comfort, knowing what you needed most was time to absorb what you just saw.

Once you calmed down, you lifted your head back up to look at his warm brown eyes, his hand instantly going to your cheek "They we're amazing (y/n).." He smiled, causing you to mirror it back "They would been so happy you got to witness it through there eyes..."

"They were timeless..." You breathed out, looking down to the book on the floor that was bound to come home with the two of you.

"Just like we will be.."

Your head shot up to look at him with blood shot eyes "You think?"

"Oh I know we will!" He smiled, causing you to cuddle deeper into him "I hope so Mase..."

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

3 weeks later.....

"Mase stop!" You laughed as he picked you as you went to put the key in your new shared home in manchester  "Please stop we need to get in before it rains... stop messing around!"

"I didn't know showing my girlfriend of 5 years of affection was classed as messing around..." He sulked as your laugh continued to echo around the house, taking the heels that had killed your feet all night "and before you start I can call you that now!!"

"I know..." You smiled, turning around to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a kiss, one of many that day "and I couldn't be prouder to now say it.." Mason returned the kiss as he muttered I love you, which of course you mumbled back. Somehow you two ended up in your bedroom, his jacket through on the floor as the zipper on your dress began to be pulled down.

Just as it was about to get even more heated, he pulled back causing you to sigh dramatically. "Don't be dramatic lovie, we have all night to do that.." He laughed, dragging you to the end of the bed "But first I want to give you your final present of the night.."

"but mase you've already given me loads today.." You groaned, hating how much he had already spoiled you today. Giving you far to many presents, making you bed in breakfast and then taking you to the fanciest restaurant in Manchester. You honestly didn't know how he'd make the day even better before he pulled out a box placing it gently on your knee... "Now this one is kind of for the both of us..." He smiled wrapping his arm around you "But I think you'll appreciate it.."

Carefully, you untied the little red bow on the box lifting the box up with the expectation of finding more personalised jewellery. However your heart dropped to the floor as you saw something you'd never thought you'd see...

A book... Similar to the one of your grandparents but instead of there names it read...

'THE STORY OF (Y/N) & MASON'

And just like the other one, a picture displayed below it. One of you and him at the champions league final, your smiles brighter than stars and the same look of love they had.

"Oh my god M-Mase..." You speechlessly gasped, covering your mouth as tears escaped your eyes "I c-can't believe it.."

His eyes mirrored yours with tears as he placed his hand on top of yours "Open it darling.." He whispered, voice full of love "Don't be scared to read this one... it's ours only"

Listening to him like always, you opened the book, smile immediately spreading across your face as you flipped through to see the many filled pages of your story so far.  The first day you met at that party, the first selfie you took together, your first chelsea game, the day you moved together... every memory shared together was captured in perfect unison to the orginal.

"I didn't even know this exsisted!" You laughed messily, as you looked at the picture of you drunkenly asleep on Mason's lap at his Chelsea leaving party. You couldn't remember much of that day, other than you drunk the night away in hope that it took the sting away from living the beloved club and city... 

"Ben took..." Mason smirked "He sent it me the next day along with the video of you doing my celebration on top of the table..."  "Please say that's a joke.." You muttered as you hid your head in embarrassment, hoping that he  was lying..

"Nope!" He chuckled "I'll show you that later darling, first you have to finish this book!"

So you did. There wasn't much after that, other than his first day at united and your new home in Manchester... little did you know there was one final page to your story you were yet to experience...

"What's this?" You questioned as you flipped the page to see a brown envelope stuck to the page, similar to love letters your grandad use to write. Unable to say much, Mason whispered "Open it and see..."

With shaking hands you pulled out letter which was folded in half, his scruffy handwriting evident. You shot him one last look, nervousness written all over his face as you began to read the love letter addressed to only you....

My dear (y/n),

I've never been good at doing speeches or expressing how I feel, but with you by my side I feel as though I can do anything, so here I am... Ever since I saw you my whole world changed for the better. You fixed the hole in my life like a puzzle piece and ever since then I knew I'd never want to lose you.

The other week when I held you in your nan's attic made me think of if we met in another life, would be the same as we are right now... and the truth is sweetheart we would of have! Even if we met on a crowded street in the 40's or if I was sent to war and you were forced to marry another man... my head would of still turned for you just like it did at that party...

you still would have been mine, I'd of make sure of it!

I'm going to love you for the rest of our lives, till we have grey hair, mini mounts running around the place, a cardboard box stored of memories we made, we'll have it all! 

Our story starts now Angel... 

we're going to be timeless...

look forward...

Mase x

Tears poured down your face as you followed the letters instructions, showing him down on one knee, a small box with the most gorgeous diamond ring displayed in it, one that coincidently resembled the one your nan had...

"Mase..."

"(y/n)... will you please make me the happies man alive & spend the rest of your life with me??"

Unable to speak you nodded your head, falling to your knees as you wrapped your arms around him. "I love you so much.." You sobbed into his neck.

"I love you so much more..." He cried back, pulling back from you for a brief second to slip the gorgeous ring on your finger "This is your nans ring" He smiled "I asked your parents if it was okay if I gave it you... I want us to be a timeless classic like your grandparents, I want to fill that book up with you till the day we are torn apart by fate..."

Once more you were speechless as his arm wrapped around you, your head lay on his chest listening to the heart which had loved you for 5 years... there was no (y/n) without Mason and you prayed every minute of the day that you'd be the couple your grandparents were. A love so strong it could be seen from miles away, a love everyone dreamed of but only a rare few could experience... one that even time couldn't forget... Your going to be... 

TIMELESS

[sepublic]

Spoilers for Dracula!!!

Something I considered regarding a modern, found footage-style adaptation of Dracula is how Dracula himself is depicted within it. Because we know that he doesn't appear in reflections, and while the original lore does state this is due to silver being present in most mirrors, I also want to consider the scrapped character of Francis Aytown, who didn't make it into the final novel. I speculate that Aytown would've been an artist driven mad attempting to recreate Dracula's likeness in painting, only to fail; This is another understated aspect of vampire lore, that vampires don't show up in photos, or even likenesses, because your image is a reflection of your soul. And vampires don't have any.

So consider: Turns out that Dracula has installed security cameras across some parts of his castle. Which sounds hilarious, the old vampire learning technology and having to install these things, or hiring some poor sod to do it for him like he hired Jonathan (in other words, it's actually befitting his character).

Likewise, the first time we the viewer see Dracula, it's while he's disguised as a driver to Jonathan. Jonathan is recording him through his phone like a vlogger because he's never gotten to travel before (being dirt poor), and he wants Mina to share in this opportunity as much as he can while she's at home. And he doesn't realize it as he films, because Jonathan isn't looking at his phone footage just yet.

But Dracula doesn't show up. The viewer sees Jonathan talking to what must be an invisible figure, not normally because he's creeped out by his vibes. But he talks to Dracula like he isn't invisible and couldn't possibly consider that he might be to others. The same goes for the locals, who are terrified of this 'driver' and can clearly see him.

The found footage then transitions to the security cameras in Dracula's castle, as I mentioned before; It's a way for him to keep track of Jonathan and control him, and the cameras are probably hidden too! Again, we have the invisible, unseen Dracula, to really tease the audience as they wonder when Jonathan will find out.

And in the morning, he finally realizes something's wrong when he sees the count has no reflection in the mirror, and we the viewer might finally connect the dots that oh yeah! If Dracula doesn't show up in mirrors, he wouldn't show up in camera footage either! Cue later vlogs and other security footage having Jonathan check through his phone and realizing the recordings don't show Dracula; Though this is assuming Dracula hasn't already gotten rid of his phone as a means of isolation and control.

During the Demeter portion of the film, we have security footage on the cargo ship. The captain checks it when he sees crewmen claim they saw a stowaway, and he sees... nothing. He sees a crewman freaking out at an empty space; It's not as if the stowaway could be off-camera, because there's a wall right behind where the crewman claims he is. It really looks as if the guy is just insane and hallucinating, and the captain angrily tells him to lay off the booze, especially on night duty.

This could be another way to trick the characters; Maybe they do set up cameras to keep track of Lucy, having considered that maybe there is an intruder, or at least some giant vampire bat. And they see her turn her head at one point, a bit forcefully, exposing her neck. And Van Helsing knows he sounds like a conspiracy theorist when he brings up how Lucy's hair seems to move on her own, with Seward rationalizing it as just the wind, something like that. Because Van Helsing is starting to consider that if Lucy is being attacked by a vampire, it wouldn't show up in footage.

When they see Lucy again following her vampirism, there's footage afterwards of Seward insisting to Van Helsing that they just hallucinated her, because she isn't showing up!!! The vampire explanation is bogus. But then VH counters that this does confirm her body was missing from the coffin at one point, and Seward defaults back to the grave robber explanation. Seward insinuates they should both be patients in his asylum at this rate.

There's footage of things moving on their own, like it's a ghost. But it's only when Lucy is staked that she finally shows up onscreen, because she's reverted back to being human again. Seeing the footage pick her up just confirms that yeah, paranormal stuff is afoot. And it provides Arthur a strange comfort in reminding himself of the time he saved his love's soul and did her justice after all the injustice that split them apart.

You could bring back the character of Francis Aytown to play on this idea more! The protagonists visit him, and his walls are covered in countless failed, scribbled-out drawings and paintings of Dracula. He can see the count's likeness in his head so clearly, but it always keeps coming out wrong. The protagonists also allude to attempting this, Jonathan especially, and the same thing happens.

It drives Aytown mad, that a great artist like him could fail. But it also entices him, this forbidden, ultimate piece, a likeness eluding him. Perhaps it makes him liable to manipulation by Dracula. He suggests that maybe he just needs to make a cast around the count's face, but Van Helsing points out that this also, somehow, would not work. Aytown casually accepts the reveal that Dracula is a vampire by our heroes, because he's already figured out from all this that the count is not a regular mortal, and only cares because his priority is capturing his image.

Aytown gets quite offended when the protagonists casually mention that they plan to kill Dracula, because it does not occur to them that anyone would object to this; But Aytown frets, how will he capture the count's likeness if he's truly destroyed??? The glow in his eyes, the cruel sneer... He ends up attacking our heroes in a fit of rage, but he’s a shrimp who doesn’t know what he’s doing and is immediately laid out by buff chad Quincey. Aytown is sent to none other than Seward's asylum, which makes things awkward; Seward thinks he can at least be useful in providing more data. Aytown possibly takes Renfield’s role in inviting Dracula inside out of desperation, leading to Mina becoming infected; I dunno what happens to Aytown afterwards.

But yeah, it's like Dracula is not just the Werewolf, but the Invisible Man as well. And a ghost. Our heroes know he doesn't show up but it's still impressive seeing the actors treat him like he's onscreen, looking into eyes that aren't there. And finally, FINALLY, after all the mystery and teasing, do we get to see Dracula in the final moment of his death; The exact moment in which he becomes human again, when he feels relief and gratitude at being freed from his curse. And it's a brief frame of a surprisingly chill-looking count, neck slashed open, before he crumbles into dust, also visible on-screen. Ironically, Aytown feared that killing Dracula would prevent him from capturing his likeness, but instead that's the only way he could do it; At that point, it would be possible to recreate his image.

This all just plays into the potential of how a modern, found footage take on Dracula would change things, especially from Quincey Harker's perspective; It'd emphasize an unusual myth about the vampires. And it'd play into the idea that the less you see of a monster, the more terrifying it is. Dracula is always unseen, even in the first portion of the story; He can at least be heard though, compared to how he is when terrorizing Lucy. So with him being a hidden monster after the Transylvania portion of the story, this minimal portrayal is retroactively applied to the first part of the novel as well.

[damazcuz]

I don't think people responding to the scrambled "uh oh, we got caught" Tumblr AI announcement with "just nightshade and glaze all the art you post guys! it's your own fault if you don't do that small step! It's ok we'll get through this!" are Getting It:

Everything has already been scraped, including the account you haven't been able to access since 2015. Yes even the private, locked sideblogs of all your old art. Did you glaze it? did you nightshade it? in 2015? can you log in and check? no? Opted in.

This also includes any writing, creative or otherwise, posted to Tumblr. Did you nightshade the poetry and fanfiction you posted to Tumblr on your old account in 2018? why not? not a plan-aheader huh? Opted in!

It's opt in by default and by design. People who left Tumblr ages ago will likely not hear about this and won't know to regain account access and opt out. People who have died won't be able to log in and opt out. People who deleted past accounts or sideblogs won't be able to log in and opt out. People whose content is reposted here from Pixiv or other external sources by unrelated third parties won't have any way to say "hey half of that blog is MY stuff. Opt ME out."

Sorry. They just have everything ever put on the site. And you didn't opt out in 2015 when you lost access to your login email, so it's included. This is on purpose because they don't WANT people to be able to opt out, they want people to stay opted in saying "well my art sucks so I'm poisoning the data model 👍" while posting jokes and creative writing, they WANT you to say "well I'm unaffected" and keep posting photos and text and stuff. Midjourney wants that and Tumblr wants to do anything it can to satisfy Midjourney and scrape some cash out of that deal.

I'm sorry because I love this place too, but genuinely the decisions being made here are business decisions being put into place by a company trying to squeeze the last drops of blood out of a stone. Tumblr is not your friend. Staff is not your friend. Automattic is not your friend. The CEO has hopefully PROVEN he is not anyone's friend. This is a business first and a product that they are selling, not to you and me, but to advertisers and partners. Tumblr will ensure that Tumblr users see their ads and supply them data.

Frankly I do not trust this company or this website and I cannot in good faith just believe that they're going to look at my opt out checkbox and say "okay! ^_^ we will remove everything Dama has ever said or done from our AI scrape. we promise to do it!" and then actually do it. They already have the data. They can just claim that whatever is produced through machine learning based in part off of my data is unrelated, came from other sources, etc. I do not have trust in this website. I don't see how anyone could at this point.

I feel like I'm watching a trainwreck from the inside and no one wants to get out of their seats and try hopping off into the safe grassy field. Wait, they say. Let's see if the train just climbs back onto the tracks, they say. The fire and explosions are all part of the process, they say. Eventually people will stop panicking or dying and it'll be a smooth ride, they say. Just look at how bright the horizon is.

[infiniteglitterfall]

the worst part about the i/p discourse

it's NOT the posters of Nazis with the swastikas on their flags replaced by stars of david. or the pages and pages of blood libel conspiracy theories in instagram posts about why local pride organizers are such big meanies. or the newfound insistence that jews just exaggerate and make up antisemitic incidents to smear the pro-palestine movement....

it's the fact that every. single. time. i try to post anything about any of these things, i end up in a rabbit hole SO DEEP IT'S IMPOSSIBLE TO GET TO THE BOTTOM.

Yesterday, I saw a --

YOU SEE? I went to Reddit for a second to find the link to the post about the Melbourne protest this week that had people carrying the Nazi-star-of-David posters. But first, I saw a post that began, "All I see on social media and the news is more and more attacks. Who beat up a Jewish family here, who stabbed a 1 year old in front of a synagouge. Those are two examples, I've lost track of all of the other ones."

and I was like, SOMEONE STABBED A ONE YEAR OLD IN FRONT OF A SYNAGOGUE?!?!

And I started to look that up. AND THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT HAPPENS. EVERY SINGLE TIME.

Two days ago, I saw an article about Cincinnati Socialists setting up a table at North Kentucky Pride without asking, it sounds like, to hand out flyers saying the war in Gaza was Netanyahu's "Final Solution" for Palestinians. Cincinnati Pride organizers alerted the NKY Pride organizers, who kicked them out.

I was like, "okay, well, let's see what Cincinnati Socialists say about it." Then I discovered that their instagram not only "names and shames" the two Cincy Pride organizers and one NKY organizer. Which led to the Cincy ones getting so much harassment and violent threats that they resigned....

But also has a related post that goes on for pages and pages of pure blood libel.

So then I sat there fact-checking all their blood libel and finding out that not only was it untrue and impossible, but half the stuff they referenced didn't even exist.

Then I ended up fact-checking things in the "article" that they'd clearly used as their source. Fact-checking things I found while fact-checking those.

Trying to write a Facebook post about how fucked up it all was. Giving up on the Facebook post after several hours because it made more sense to write it on Tumblr, or at least to write it on Tumblr FIRST.

Then I'm also looking at the post they made "naming and shaming" the organizers, which is like... "the Cincy ones are partners! two days after Hamas's incredibly violent and brutal massacre, one of them changed his profile picture to a photo of them honeymooning IN ISRAEL two years ago! they did it through some group that COVERS A LOT OF THE COSTS FOR HONEYMOONS IN ISRAEL!!!!" and "the other one went to a protest of Hamas's massacre!!! with a sign saying to free the hostages!!!"

oh no. the fucking horror. truly how did these genocidal monsters even end up on the pride organizing committee. this is a shanda scandal.

then I'm responding to people's comments, trying to talk them down from horrible positions. telling people things like, "I know it's asking a LOT, but if people could grasp the idea that "going to Israel for your honeymoon" ISN'T "committing genocide," it would be really great. Or that wanting the hostages freed is actually something that both Israeli AND GAZAN protests have called for, and it's only Westerners who are opposed to it. Or that in fact, saying you "Stand with Israel," a few days after an incredibly brutal attack that burned multiple towns to the ground in one day, killed entire families and their pets, an attack which Hamas has promised to repeat "again and again and again" till Israel is violently destroyed... is opposing that attack, NOT calling for genocide."

then i'm like, "oh, i should edit these images to show the correct info, and i can explain that I drew arrows and added the correct info!" so then i'm doing that and working on writing alt text, and holy shit??? how many fucking hours??? did i spend on this?????? just because i read a frigging reddit post that linked to an article about it?????????

and like. i can go through and debunk all that shit in the comments. (and did. i responded to every single comment that believed this shit.) but ultimately, everyone who pulls this shit has way more reach than I do.

just. like. THAT'S ONE ORG IN ONE PLACE. And it was bad enough that I persevered and finished debunking it and commenting on it today and started telling people about it. Do you even know how many more of those I've seen?! How many I would see if I looked for them on purpose?!

The tsunami of deliberate disinformation is SO FUCKING BAD. All of it is SO FUCKING LAYERED. In any single bullshit post, there are SO MANY horrifically bad and wrong assumptions. So many of them are DESIGNED, BY HAMAS, to lead people down the path to "All Zionists should die! Israel should be violently destroyed!"

There were so many comments on a "Free Palestine Melbourne" group's instagram post (Sydney? Could've been Sydney) asking, pointedly, how many Jews are Zionists. What percentage of Jews are Zionists, again?

One (1) had a response telling them it doesn't matter what the percentage is, no percentage would justify collective punishment of Jews.

The rest all said things like, "Too many."

It feels like constantly being lied to. Just constantly being lied to about things I have looked up and verified myself from solid sources, now and in the past, by people I counted as my community.

Then just now I opened Instagram because I hadn't taken screenshots of a couple of the pics I wanted to add. And I'm hit with these:

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by jewsinschool (@jewsinschool)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Jewish on Campus (@jewishoncampus)

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Jewish and Proud (@jewishpridealways)

Then some brighter posts (including one of a baby bat!!) and then a post which sums up a lot of what I'm feeling right now.

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Jess Cook (@jessicagcoook)

It's like, yes, that, plus the uncomfortable sense that some people are getting thisclose to going, "Most Jews are Zionists anyway, so YEAH, I DO think most Jews deserve to die."

[httplilyyy]

𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃 | 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: the secret is out 

warnings: descriptions of violence, (possible) multiple character death, knives, guns, descriptions of blood (lots of it), swearing, angst, scream vi spoilers, bad writing

word count: 5.4k

a/n: this is a bit of a lengthy chapter but it’s one of my favourites.

scream masterlist | prev. part | next part

004. red right hand - nick cave & the bad seeds

‘you'll see him in your nightmares.’

‘What’s your favourite scary movie?’

Those words were written on the wall, a ghostface spray painted just above the chilling question in an old alleyway. 

Everywhere you looked something screamed at you to run the other way. You walked alongside Tara and Sam, the younger of the two holding onto your hand, afraid that you would disappear in a blink of an eye.

“Jason and Greg were little Atlantan rich boys.” Gale explained as she walked ahead of everyone, guiding you all into the warehouse. “They used fake names to rent this place.”

“How did you find it?” Kirby questioned, jogging forward to walk beside Gale.

“It’s called investigative journalism for a reason, how didn’t you find it? Weren’t you tracking them?”

“I went through their financial records dozens of times and this was not in any of them.” Kirby huffed as she looked up at the warehouse. “It doesn't make sense.”

“Don’t worry,” Gale smiled feigning sympathy, “I’m just really good at my job, you’ll get there.” 

Gale pulled a key card from her bag and opened the door to the warehouse, the rest of you following the woman inside. Gale also grabbed a flashlight, turning it on so she could guide the rest of the way. 

“What is this place?” Sam asked as she walked in, looking around at the cobweb littered walls. “What’s with all the security?”

Gale switched on the lights allowing you to finally see what you had just walked into.

“It’s a movie theatre.” Tara stated as she looked around.

“It’s not just a theatre. It's a shrine.” Gale said, nodding to the memorabilia placed all around the theatre.

Your head snapped to the stage, watching as the curtains rose up to show nine mannequins with black cloaks, the ghostface masks missing. 

Interested, you took a few cautious steps forward, each item was from the past ghostface’s and their victims. 

“They’ve got the whole damn franchise.” Mindy spoke loudly as she walked around, taking in everything that she could.

“Chad.” Mindy gasped softly.

“Hmm?” The boy replied.

“This was uncle Randy’s.” Mindy said, looking at an old t-shirt. “They’ve got everything.”

“Is that-” Tara started, looking over at Kirby.

“The knife I was stabbed with.” Kirby finished, a sorrowful look on her face.

“You have all been through so much.” Bailey said, looking around the room.

“Who drew all these- woah wait.” Mindy said, cutting herself off as she looked intently at an old photo.

“What’s up?” Sam asked, looking over to the girl.

“There’s a child in this.”

Your head snapped up from looking at an old piece of memorabilia and at Mindy. There's only one child who that could be. You. 

“What the hell?” Chad mumbled, walking over to his sister so he could have a look himself.

“Y/n? Is that- is that you?” Mindy questioned, looking backwards and forwards from the photo to you.

“I uh- I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You replied, turning your focus onto something else.

“This kid. It looks like you.” Mindy persisted.

You knew you would have to share your secret some time soon but you weren't ready for it to be this soon. You turned your head to Kirby who gave you a discrete nod then you looked at Gale, the older woman giving you a warm smile.

“Okay, I- yeah it’s me.” You said, suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

“What the hell.” Chad exclaimed, looking over to you. “Y/n-”

“Look- I- I’m sorry, okay! I just didn’t know how to tell you-” You said, trying to explain as you walked towards the two only for them to take a step back.

Taking the hint you stood in your place, in the middle of the theatre, with everybody watching you. You internally chuckled, this all seemed like some horrible play and you had no way out of it.

“That your sister was a Ghostface?!” Mindy said loudly, hands raised beside her.

“Half sister. Different dads.” You mumbled with a shrug.

“Y/n, why wouldn’t you tell us?” Tara questioned quietly, as if her voice was going to break if she spoke any louder. She was going to move towards you, only to be stopped by Sam.

“I tried to.” You said, heart breaking at all of your friends looking at you as if you were the killer. “I really did- you have to believe me.”

“Y/n-” Sam tried.

“Please.” You said, voice cracking as you tried not to cry.

Sam looked hesitant and so did Tara, although the two of them wanted to comfort you, they didn’t know whether to trust you. 

“You don’t trust me, do you?” You stated, voice breaking as tears brimmed your eyes as you looked around at your friends.

“Y/n-” 

“It's fine.” You sniffled, wiping away your tears. “It’s fine.”

You looked at everyone around you, feeling like the walls were caving in and you needed to escape, but you didn’t know where to go so you went up onto the stage. 

Everyone watched you, moving out of your way as you passed them, as if you had something contagious. 

Your heart cracked, you looked back at the people who you once called your friends before standing in front of the ghostface mannequins.

It suddenly felt as if you were under water, you could hear people talking but their voices were muffled. You could also feel eyes on the back of your head, as if it were a target. 

You looked at the past ghostfaces, stopping in front of one that had left you in a trance but to you it was more of a nightmare.

Jill’s name was shown at the bottom of the costume, a shiver went down your spine at the memories of that night. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, trying to not let your mind slip back to that time.

But it was no use.

You sat on the floor, hands and feet bound with duct tape, along with your mouth. Your eyes were red raw, tears flowing down your cheeks as you looked up to your older sister. 

The person you used to look up to the most stabbed her accomplice. He doubled over in pain, bleeding from where Jill had stabbed him, right in the heart, a look of betrayal flickering over his expression.

“There’s been a change of plans.” Jill smiled manically. “The problem with you Charlie, it’s always been about killing Sidney Prescott. My plan is a little bigger. I’m going to become her.” 

And with that, Jill stabbed him again. Charlie couldn’t believe what was happening as he stared at the woman, stunned and shocked. Before falling back and crumbling to the floor.

Jill looked down at him with a glimmer of diabolical glee. She gave his body a quick kick with her foot but his body didn't move. The realisation crossing your face, he's dead and your sister had killed him.

“How did you turn into this?” Sidney asked, looking between Jill and Charlie's now dead body, a glimpse of you being caught in the corner of her eye.

“Nothing is ever what it seems. Your words, Sidney. I've always been this. You know what it's like growing up related to you? All you hear is Sidney this, Sidney that, Sidney, Sidney...You were always so fucking special. Now it's my turn.”

You watched on in fear, Jill taking her knife and pointing it at Sidney, a sickening smile taking form on her face.

“And now you have to die. Those are the rules.”

“What rules?”

“There's only room for one lead. Let's face it, Sid, your ingenue days are over.”

Jill advanced on Sidney, stabbing her with the knife. The older woman gasped in pain leading Jill to stab her again. Sidney dropped to her knees, now losing a lot of blood but desperately trying to stay awake.

Then everything felt as if it moved in slow motion, Sidney’s body fell limp to the floor, you looked at her hopefully, begging for her to get up but she didn’t move.

You let out a scream, the duct tape against your mouth preventing you from being too loud but the sound still startled Jill. 

Her head snapped towards you and it was as if her gaze softened but you knew that was too good to be true. 

Jill made her way to you, kneeling in front of you. You tried to back away in fear but you couldn’t do anything due to the duct tape around your wrists and ankles.

“Oh, my sweet baby sister.” Jill said sweetly, holding a hand up to your cheek.

You flinched away, even more tears falling from your eyes as you whimpered at the sight of Jill. You looked into her eyes, trying to find the Jill who was once your sister, your best friend, but she was nowhere to be seen.

“I really wish I didn't have to do this.” Jill said sadly and you would’ve believed her if it wasn't for the sickening smile on her face.

You violently shook your head from side to side as you watched Jill edge her knife closer and closer to your side, just under your ribs. You squirmed, kicked, thrashed and screamed, begging Jill with your eyes not to do it. 

But she didn't listen. Her knife went into your side and then everything went black.

“So somebody killed these chuckle fucks and took over?” Chad questioned, snapping you out of your haze.

You turned to see that everyone was now on the stage, each of them going backwards and forwards from eyeing you up to looking at a mannequin. 

“Someone who believes that Sam masterminded woodsboro and perhaps Y/n now too.” Gale said. 

“Wait what?” You questioned turning around to face the older woman, shocked at the statement but you cowered back as everyone's eyes turned to you.

“If this were a normal stab movie, this would be the killer's lair.” Mindy explained from where she stood, giving you a quick side eye.

“Which means this isn’t a normal stab movie.” Kirby added.

Tara breathed heavily, looking between you and her sister before storming off. You went to go after her but after a hard look from Sam you realised you weren’t wanted.

You gave a silent nod, tears forming back in your eyes as the back of your throat burned. You could feel your heart rate increasing, your hands going clammy as your breathing picked up. The theatre walls closing in on you. Not being able to breathe, you looked at everyone before you ran out on your own.

Finally getting to somewhere where you could calm down, you placed your hand against a wall and took in a deep breath. You were startled by the sound of your phone ringing and you already knew who it was.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket, you answered the call, squeezing your eyes shut, you prepared for their voice.

“Y/n, y/n, y/n.” Ghostface tutted. “Walking off on your own, very brave choice.”

“Yeah, well I like my chances.” 

“I wouldn’t get so comfortable.”

“Okay… you’re boring me.” You huffed, taking your phone away from your ear and ending the call.

“Wait wha-”

You shook your head with a sigh, placing your phone back in your pocket before walking back to where everyone was. You saw Gale and Kirby making their way to Sam and Tara so you thought you’d tag along.

The older women both made sure you were okay and with a nod of your head, they knew that you were alright.

“I’m sorry.” You heard Sam whisper to Tara.

“Just drop it Sam.” The younger Carpenter said before walking away from her sister.

“Tara-”

“We’ve got her.” Kirby smiled, motioning to you beside her. 

Sam gave you a look but you walked off with Kirby before she could do anything about it leaving her with Gale.

You found Tara sitting by herself, at the top of the theatre, looking down at the stage all caught in her thoughts.

She heard the two of you coming so you sent her a small smile but you didn’t make your way towards her, opting to stay by the door as Kirby sat beside her.

“How’d you get past what happened to you?” Tara questioned, picking at the skin around her fingers.

“I almost died after I was stabbed.” Kirby said. “Technically I did die. For four minutes. When I recovered I got mad. I didn't want to spend the rest of my life being afraid of monsters. I wanted the monsters to be afraid of me.”

“I like that.” Tara said, clearing her throat before she turned to you. “What about you y/n? You’ve been through this twice.”

“Oh I uh- I-” You struggled, not knowing if Tara actually cared or if she was feeling sympathetic. “I’m the same as Kirby, I almost died but I didn't want to let that determine the way I lived the rest of my life. I mean yeah, sure, it sucked and it took a hell of a lot of therapy to get over my sister stabbing me but I got there in the end.”

The three of you were snapped out of your little bubble when you heard the doors open, Bailey, Sam and Gale walking towards you three.

“Sorry to interrupt.” Bailey said, the two women walking behind him. “But I think I have an idea about how to turn the tables on this creep.”

“Yeah.” Gale agreed. “And we’re in.”

“Sorry Gale, no press allowed.” Kirby said, raising her hands to the side. “Police business. I’m good at my job too.”

“Ooh, she got you there.” You chuckled. 

“Okay, so let's go.” Tara said, finding a new determination in her.

“About that,” you mumbled, scratching the back of your neck, “I’m going to stay with Gale, if that’s okay?”

“Of course.” Gale beamed. 

“No, y/n. We need to keep an eye on you.” Sam said.

“Wha-”

“I can handle myself, Sam.” Gale said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“You text or call if anything happens.” Sam said firmly, giving you one last look before walking out with Tara, Bailey and Kirby hot on her tail.

“They’ll come around eventually.” Gale said softly, feeling your shoulders deflate.

“Yeah.” You sighed sadly, kicking the ground by your feet.

“C’mon, what do you want to do?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Take out back at mine?”

“Uh, yeah. That sounds like a good idea.”

The two of you made your way out of the theatre and into Gale’s car. The both of you sat in silence but it wasn't awkward, it was comforting. Your head rested on the car window, watching everything go by as you were stuck in your thoughts.

The journey to her apartment wasn’t long and before you knew it, you were riding the elevator up to her floor.

After Gale unlocked her door, she let you in first. You took in your surroundings and chuckled at how poor you were compared to Gale.

“So this is what it must be like to be really, really rich.” You said, walking into the living room.

“Being a reporter has its perks.” Gale said, giving you a teasing smile.

“It sure does.” 

“I never got to ask you about the attack at Sam and Tara’s apartment, and with everything that happened earlier, how are you?” Gale questioned, sitting beside you on her sofa with her laptop in hand.

“I’ve been better but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You miss her, don’t you?”

“Who, Jill-?”

“No. Sid.” Gale said with a sad smile on her face. “She’s been with you through it all and this is your first time without her.”

“Of course I miss her.” You said, fiddling with the fabric of your top. “But she needs to stay safe, away from here. Away from me.”

“She misses you too. And don't think like that.” Gale said, her gaze on you softening. “She changed her number, I can give it to you if you’d like.”

“I’m not sure.” You said, playing with your fingers.

“Just give me your phone.” Gale said, holding her hand out.

“Okay.” You said reluctantly, placing your phone in her hand.

“Thank you.” Gale said, quickly typing in Sidney’s number before handing your phone back to you. 

“I don’t think I ever said thank you. For everything, back in two-thousand and eleven, last year and now today. So, thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, y/n. I’ll always be there for you, just like Sid.”

“Although you may still see me as a nine year old, I've got your back too.”

“How about, when this is all over, you can come and live with me? Only if you’d like to of course.” Gale said, nudging you with her elbow.

“I’d like that.” You smiled.

“Now, ‘no press’, who does Kirby think she is?” Gale huffed, opening her laptop. “Bitch, last time I saw you, you were in glee club.”

You shook your head with a smile, leaning back on the sofa to get a look at what Gale was doing.

“Forgive me if I don't trust you to keep them safe.” Gale went on to imitate Kirby.

“I’m going to order food, do you want anything?” You asked, opening up your phone.

“Oh, yes please, I'm fine with whatever.”

“Okay.”

You looked through a couple of take out places but ultimately decided on pizza. You placed your order and put on a movie to kill some time. 

After about half an hour you got thirsty so you got up from your spot to get a glass of water, as you were about to ask if Gale wanted one, your phone started ringing.

“Your phone, y/n.” Gale said, looking up from her laptop.

“You can answer it.” You replied, finishing your drink and putting the glass in the sink.

“Hello?” Gale answered.

“Hello, Gale. It's strange that you and I have never spoken on the phone. This is long overdue.” 

“Who is it?” You asked, walking over to the woman as you watched her shoot out of her seat.

“It’s Ghostface.” Gale mouthed.

“Shit.” You muttered. “Give the phone to me.”

“I agree.” Gale replied over the phone, holding a hand up to you as she shook her head.

“I figured after all these years you’d want an interview.”

“I’m going to call the police.” You whispered, picking up Gale’s home phone before walking out of the room.

“You figured right.” Gale said, looking at her phone as it buzzed on the coffee table, Sam’s name coming up as the contact. “So what's your motive this time? You angry at the movies or are you just trying to stay relevant?”

“Well I could ask you the same. Don't you know the legacy characters are disposable now. Nobody cares about last century's heroes.”

“Then why bother with me at all?”

“Call it nostalgia. Or maybe you deserve to be punished for all that money you made off the misery of others. Maybe it's time someone made a buck reporting your death.”

“You know you're like the tenth guy to try this right. And spoiler alert, it never works out for the dip-shit in the mask.”

“Oh but they certainly leave a mark before they go, don’t they? Richie and Amber managed to butcher Dewey, carved him up like a christmas goose. How does it feel to lose the only man who ever loved you?”

“Fuck you.”

“How does it feel to know that you weren’t there for him at the end? Not there to give him comfort as he died screaming in his own guts.”

“You’re the one who’s gonna die screaming.”

“Maybe, but you won’t be there to see it. You couldn’t stop what happened to Dewey. Just like you wont be able to stop what’s coming.”

“Hey, the police are on their way.” You said quietly, running back in the room.

“Is that, y/n I hear?”

“What do you want?” Gale questioned.

“How about you put them on the phone.”

“No chance.”

“Oh, I'd do it if I were you, Gale.”

“Fine.” Gale reluctantly said, handing you your phone.

“Hey, Ghosty.” You said, taking your phone from Gale and holding up to your ear.

“Hello, y/n. How’s it feel to be cut off from the friendship group?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Oh I know everything. I thought you would know that by now.”

“I guess so.”

“Now, how about a game of hide and seek?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I’m hiding, you come find me.”

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Because I'll gut you like a fish before you have the chance to step foot out of this apartment!” The Ghostface said loudly down the phone. “So, y/n, let me try that again. Do you want to play hide and seek? I’ll make it easier for you by saying if you’re hot or cold.”

“How about a game of Marco Polo. I think that’s a little more interesting.”

“Or I can go back to the originals and ask, what’s your favourite scary movie? It doesn't work like that, y/n. You play by my rules. Hide. And. Seek.”

“You really are a sick fuck.”

“Cold.” Ghostface said, ignoring you and starting the game of hide and seek.

You sighed to yourself, walking towards the kitchen where Gale looked at you with confusion written all over her face.

“Colder.”

“What's going on?” Gale mouthed.

“Hide and seek.” You mouthed back.

“Y/n, no!” 

“I’ll be fine, just wait here.”

“What’s taking you so long, y/n?”

“Taking a stroll, you impatient fuckface.” You replied, walking back to the living room.

“Warmer.”

You walked back to where you had called the police, and came across multiple doors, one on your left, two on your right and one at the end of the hall.

You opened the first on your right, only for it to be an empty bathroom.

“Warmer.”

The next one you opened was the one on your left, again empty.

“Warmer.”

You decided to go for the one at the very end of the hall but it was empty too, only leaving one door left to open.

As you grasped the handle you let out a shaky breath, pulling it open with speed.

“Bingo.” Ghostface said, ending the call as they jumped out of the cupboard, stabbing you in the stomach.

“Ah! Fuck!” You yelled, holding your stomach as you fell to the floor, the ghostface standing over you menacingly. 

The Ghostface tilted their head to the side, preparing the knife in their hand to bring it down onto your body.

Gale, from the other room, heard your scream and rushed towards you. Stopping in her tracks seeing the Ghostface next to you.

The Ghostface turned their head towards Gale, tilting to the side slightly, looking backwards and forwards from you and Gale. 

Their shoulders sagged, shaking their head as they looked down at your body before speeding their way over to Gale, leaving you to bleed out on the floor.

“Gale.” You shouted weakly, desperately trying to stop the bleeding from your abdomen.

If being stabbed once in one day wasn't bad enough, it just had to happen again. You could hear things crashing in the kitchen along with Gale’s attempt to keep the Ghostface away from her. 

Using all of your strength, you opened a door that led you to Gale’s bedroom. You pulled yourself along the floor and situated yourself in her walk-in closet. 

You let yourself breathe for a moment, looking down at your wound when you let out a small grunt as you applied more pressure, your head slowly starting to become dizzy as you felt your eyelids drooping. 

All of a sudden, the heavy breaths of Gale became closer, the woman running into her walk-in closet and slamming the door behind her, making sure it was locked.

“Oh God, Y/n!” Gale said worriedly, rushing over to you, applying pressure on your wound.

“I’m fine, Gale.” You said, struggling to form a sentence as you looked over to the door where the Ghostface pounded on it relentlessly. 

“No you're not! Oh God! You have to stay with me!”

“Gale, deal with the Ghostface, I promise I'm fine, I just need to catch my breath.” You said, placing a hand over hers and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Gale gave you a reluctant nod before getting up and opening up a cupboard where inside was a case containing her gun. The case had a lock on it, causing Gale to try a few times before she could finally open it.

Once she had the gun out of the box, she shot towards the door and at the Ghostface and it all went quiet. 

“How’s that for nostalgia, fucker!” Gale shouted, tightening her grip on the gun.

Letting out heavy breaths, you finally thought you were safe but you should’ve known that the Ghostface wouldn’t have given up that easily. The sound of a phone ringing causes both you and Gale to jump.

The older woman looked to her side, where the phone sat, right next to a picture of her and Dewey. Keeping her gun facing the door, she walked over to the phone and picked it up.

“You missed.”

“Sure I did.” Gale replied sarcastically.

“You win, I'm in the elevator heading for the ground floor.”

“Sure you are.” Gale scoffed, making her way towards the door shooting at it once again.

“Maybe you did hit me. Maybe I'm wounded. Or maybe I'm wearing a bulletproof vest.”

“That’s why I’m going to shoot you in the fucking head!” Gale shouted, opening the door.

“Gale no!” You yelled, finding some strength in you to pull you up to your feet. You held onto the wall, walking slowly after Gale, watching as she made her way back into the living room.

“You would’ve made a good killer Gale. Sidney would never have made sense and Dewey was a fan favourite but you cracking under the pressure and turning into Ghostface would've been a great twist.”

“Keep talking, asshole.” Gale said, manoeuvring further into the living room. You couldn't keep up with her, having to lean your back against the wall to catch your breath.

“Mhm, sure.” They chuckled. “What do you wanna talk about? You never got to be the leading lady, did you? It was always about poor sweet Sidney sucking up all the oxygen and what did that leave you to be?”

“The brains and the sex appeal.” Gale deadpanned.

“Sorry for stabbing y/n. Being through all this twice didn’t help much.”

“It sure didn’t.”

The Ghostface didn’t reply, not with words, they just laughed over the phone.

“Can you hold please?” Gale asked rhetorically.

“What?”

Gale took the phone away from her ear, dialling her home number causing a phone to ring in another room. Gale turned around fast, shooting at where the noise came from which was soon followed by a groan and a thump.

The ringing continued as she made her way to the door but as she went to open the door, the Ghostface jumped out and stabbed her in the shoulder. She tried to shoot them but they knocked her gun from her hand.

Hearing Gale let out a guttering scream, you pushed yourself off the wall and made your way to her as quickly as you could. 

You rounded the corner and saw Gale sitting on the floor, her back to a wall as the Ghostface plunged their knife into her side, just like they did to you. 

“Gale!” You said, walking over to her but you were weak, your legs giving out underneath you causing you to tumble to the floor. “Fuck!”

Gale had managed to push the Ghostface off her and she tried to make a run for it but they were hot on her tail. She smacked a vase over their head, but they still got up. 

She ran around her living room, desperately trying to get away but the Ghostface caught up to her. Before they could stab her, Gale flipped them over her shoulder and they smashed into her coffee table. The Ghostface knocked out cold.

Gale looked to her side, seeing you struggle to get to your feet. She made her way towards you and the two of you met in the middle. You laid on your back, staring at the ceiling as Gale sat on her knees applying pressure to your wound.

“You promised me.” Gale sobbed, watching as blood slipped through her fingers. “You promised me you were fine!”

“I am.” You reassured. “I am, now go finish the job.” 

“You better be awake by the time I get back.” Gale said, looking intently into your eyes.

“I will, I'm coming to live with you, remember?”

“Do not close your eyes!” Gale said, crawling away from you and back to the Ghostface. 

She picked up their knife, looking back at you once before she brought it down onto the Ghostface. However, before she could make contact, the Ghostface picked up a shard of glass and stabbed it into her abdomen.

You heard Gale let out a low groan but you couldn't move, a lone tear falling from the corner of your eye. 

The Ghostface took back their knife and went to push it onto Gale’s head but she used all the strength she had left and held the knife away.

“Fuck you!” Gale whispered tiredly.

When you thought the Ghostface was going to kill her, you heard Sam and Tara run into the apartment.

“Hey, fuckface!” Sam shouted, picking up Gale’s gun and shooting it at the Ghostface.

The masked killer quickly got up and ran away, dodging bullets that were firing their way.

“Gale!” Tara exclaimed, rushing over to the woman, Sam following quickly after. 

“Shit! Gale!” Sam said, placing pressure on Gale’s wound causing her to groan. “Sorry. I'm sorry. I should’ve known he was going to come after you, I'm so sorry.”

“He didn’t get me. Tell Sidney, he never got me.” 

“Hey, no you’ve got to stay awake.” Sam said, watching as Gale slowly closed her eyes.

“Y/n.” Gale said, fighting to stay awake but she finally let her eyes drop and sleep overcome her.

“Gale! No, Gale!” Sam exclaimed.

“Shit!” Tara panicked, looking around her. “Where’s y/n?”

Tara spotted you behind a chair, blood pooling all around you as you didn’t move.

“Y/n!” Tara shouted, rushing over to you. “No, no, no, no. Please stay awake. Please.”

“They’ve got terrible aim.” You croaked, a small smile forming on your face as you placed a hand over Tara’s.

“I’m sorry, God I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry.” Tara cried, trying to stop the bleeding from your stomach as tears rolled down her cheeks.

“It’s okay.” You grunted as Tara applied more pressure. “Maybe this proves that I'm not the killer.”

“Even when you’re dying, you still annoy me.”

“You love me.” You smirked. “Even if you won’t admit it to me yet, I know you do.”

“I should’ve believed you.” Tara said, crying even harder. “I do, I do believe you now. I promise, now you’ve got to stay awake, okay? You’ve got to.”

You heard the elevator ding, two paramedics rushing into Gale’s apartment. One going to Gale the other over to you. 

“Out of the way.” The paramedics said to Tara and Sam.

“No!” Tara shouted, trying to stay as close to you as possible and Sam did the same thing with Gale.

You placed your hand on Tara’s arm giving her a look. She shook her head, tears flowing even faster now but you persisted and she eventually gave in.

Tara walked over to her sister, the older girl pulling her into her arms as the two of them watched as the paramedics tended to you and Gale.

“Checking.” One paramedic said, putting two fingers to Gales' pulse point. “We’ve got a weak pulse. Get the back board, we need to move now.”

Sam let out a teary sigh, nodding her head finally calm knowing that Gale was okay but then her attention turned to you. 

Tara couldn't seem to keep her eyes off you, afraid that if she did you wouldn't make it.

You weren't sure what happened next. One moment police officers and paramedics were rushing into Gale’s apartment and then the next- well, you didn’t know.

Everything was white.

[villain-sympathizer]

Howdy! May I please request a Chisaki x Reader? Making it a headcanon or a drabble is your choice.

I wanted to know how a sleepy or tired Chisaki would be like with his significant other. I kind of headcanon that if Chisaki were to ever have a partner, they'd sleep in separate beds and would have their own respective bedrooms. So what if he didn't really care about that anymore and just wanted some rest? Perhaps falling asleep on the couch with them?

I uh just want fluff please

oh anon im so so so in love with this and i 1000% agree w/ your headcanon as someone who also doesnt like sharing a bed but craves physical intimacy from a partner

────── ･ ｡ﾟ: .☽ . : ｡ﾟ･ ──────

Testing the Waters

Kai Chisaki x GN!Reader/Significant other [drabble]

[Content warnings: Tiny, brief mention of MC having friends/family in the past that are “no longer around” - can be interpreted in any way.] 

────── ･ ｡ﾟ: .☽ . : ｡ﾟ･ ──────

“I’ll just sleep in your bed tonight,” Kai mumbled as he and his partner entered their shared home above the Hassaikai base. 

That made [Name] stop in their tracks, exhaustion seemingly forgotten about in favor of turning to their lover with widened eyes. Surely they misheard him? Or maybe he just wants the bed that’s closest, that must be it. His room was further into the home, anyway.

“Oh - yeah, go ahead. I’ll change the sheets for you first, then I’ll just use your bed-”

“Why?” Kai’s low, vocally fried voice cuts them off, sounding genuinely confused. “It’s your bed, you can sleep in it too.”

Well, now things we’re even more confusing. [Name] gives him a look to reflect that exact sentiment, though most of it was hidden behind their half-plague mask that they had yet to remove. “But… what about your hives? I don’t wanna risk irritating you.”

Kai simply shrugs, removing his infamous jacket and plague mask to hang on some hooks near the base’s secret entrance, his simple cloth mask still on. “I’ll take some meds beforehand. I’m just too tired to care about my stupid health issues right now.”

[Name] was going to retort, tell him that it’s not stupid, it’s serious and they respected his need for space, but Kai was already waving off their concerns as he spoke. Despite saying that he was too tired to simply walk to his room, he sure didn’t mind going through the tedious steps of taking allergy meds, taking his sweet time with pouring himself water and tearing open the pill packaging.

“Besides, we’ve been together for a couple years now. I think it’s time we started acting like it when at home,” he mutters, acting as if this wasn’t a huge step in their relationship, seeing as the two slept in separate rooms since [Name] had moved in with him. 

[Name] was finally brought out of their stupor at the sound of Kai setting the now empty glass of water down. “Well, fine, but don’t complain if I forget you’re there and end up rolling around too much.”

With a warm smile that [Name] could only notice through the crinkling of his eyes, Kai lets out a quiet chuckle as the two of them head to bed. “I’ll try my best not too,” he replies, giving their shoulder a gentle squeeze as they enter [Name]’s room.

A room similar to his own, except decorated with items and knicknacks that just screamed [Name], as well as plenty of photos along the walls of them and the other Hassaikai members. Some photos even seemed to be from years ago, with friends and family that Kai has never met. Likely never will, either. 

After a quick change of clothes, Kai opting to use some old clothes [Name] had stolen for themselves while [Name] wore their own pajamas to minimize any skin contact that would irritate his hives, the two removed their masks and collapsed into bed. The day had been exhausting and the two of them were all too happy to just pass out the second their heads touched the pillow.

It must have been [Name]’s imagination, or perhaps they were having those “between sleep” hallucinations - but they could have sworn sometime during the night, Kai had held them close and kissed the back of their head, spooning them as they drifted right back to sleep. 

In the morning, Kai was already out of bed and preparing the day by the time [Name] woke up. They passed it off as some dream created by their desire for more affection.

They’ll just have to test it again. And again. And again.

[magicalrocketships]

hi! are you planning to write more of de-aged max bc he is just so cute it’s giving me a heart attack. saw a tiktok the other day w photos of baby max and all i could think about was this verse!!!!! ahhh lysm

Thank you!!! Here is a little bit more, in honour of grown up Max's adventures with colouring in.

(Hopefully this link shows the stuff I’ve already posted in chronological order. But anyway, this bit follows directly on from this part.)

It has been five full days since a seven year old Max showed up at Daniel's door in too-big clothes and holding out a little card with Daniel's name carefully printed on it in grown up Max's blocky handwriting. Baby Max shows no signs of going big again. He follows Daniel around his apartment, looks at his flag book, and plays with the Jimmy or Sassy cats — no further narrowing down of cat identity has occurred, due to Daniel having little to no interest in identifying cat penises, and grown up Max's complete fucking inability to put his fucking cat names on a fucking collar, or, indeed, to have informed Daniel of his Go Small plans at any point in the past three fucking years, but that's fine, Daniel is fine with this responsibility. Max has wet the bed every night and Daniel is just having to cross his fingers that he's not making everything worse by each and every decision he makes.

Anyway: if grown up Max doesn't show up again extremely soon, Daniel's going to have to bite the bullet and call Christian and tell him Max isn't going to be able to race. Max will hate that when he's back, if Daniel brakes too soon and makes the call, and more than that, it's going to turn baby Max into a Thing, and if there's one thing Daniel has learned in the last five days, it's that Max one hundred percent does not want to be a thing of any kind.

So, it's time for Emergency Measures. Maybe what will kickstart baby Max back into adulthood in time for his next race will be a race track, and go-karting. Daniel takes advantage of Max being distracted by his coloured pencils in the living room to google nearby karting tracks, and sends the nearest one a message to see if he could book out the whole track for a private session. The answer comes back with an immediate yes, which is probably in some part due to the figure Daniel had dropped in his message about how much he's willing to pay for the privilege.

He leans against the doorframe into the living room. Max is concentrating very closely on his colouring book, his coloured pencils all out on the coffee table. A little something in Daniel's chest shifts a bit.

"Maxy-Max," Daniel says, half way through his email response to the karting track. "Would you like to go karting tomorrow?"

There is a pause. "No, thank you, Daniel." Max does not look up from his colouring book, nor does he stop colouring.

Daniel also pauses. Max's little fingers hold onto his pencil tighter. He's pressing down hard on the picture.

"Okay," Daniel says. "Would you like to go another day, if we don't go tomorrow?"

"No, thank you, Daniel," Max says again. He still doesn't look up. His pencil might tear through the paper soon.

Daniel's been reading up on Going Small. Well, googling randomly when he can't sleep. Most people tend to think about Going Small as a way of connecting with your kid self, like… remembering who you once were in case maybe you wanted to stop being such a cunt or that you always wanted to sew clothes or build bridges and maybe your hedge fund job isn't as fulfilling as you maybe thought it was. Some people say it's as much for the people around you as it is about you, but whatever. Daniel had had a great fucking time in the pit lane six years ago, he remembers that much, although the detail has always been fuzzy. Like it happened a very long time ago. But there's another school of thought, one about the kids that don't age back up after a day or a couple of days, the kids who maybe lost a part of their childhood the first time around. Daniel's never met anyone who stayed small longer than a couple of days though, and it's so rare that the theory could be complete bollocks, and no one would ever know anyway. You can't battle data against the universe, it's not like race strategy. There's no science to it.

Max continues not to look at him. He's colouring the same line over and over again.

Daniel closes his email app, and slips his phone into his pocket. "Can I come and colour with you?"

Max nods, but doesn't look up. His fingertips are white around his pencil. He's used it down to the nub so that it's almost too blunt to colour with.

Daniel tries to sit down on Max's right side, but Max shakes his head and makes him come and sit on his left. Daniel positions himself cross-legged by the coffee table and it becomes clear just why Max wanted him this side when, a moment later, Max's little hand slips into Daniel's bigger one. Daniel does not now have a hand to colour with, but maybe it doesn't matter, because Max is colouring with enough concentration for the two of them, a big picture of a train with a cat sitting in the window next to the driver. He's being very careful. He still doesn't look up.

One of the Jimmy or Sassys wanders over to curl up by Max's little Pikachu-socked foot. The other one, the one who doesn't like being petted as much and prefers to watch you in a creepy and furry way while you're doing perfectly normal things sitting on the toilet or in the shower, perches on top of Daniel's shelves and stares at them.

Max's grip on his pencil loosens a little. Daniel leans over and kisses the top of his head. "You're very good at colouring," he tells Max. "We can cut out ones you've finished and put them up on the wall, if you'd like."

Max looks at him then, his eyes big and wide. "My pictures?"

"Your pictures," Daniel agrees. He reaches for the Pikachu pencil sharpener in the middle of the table. "Can I sharpen your pencil for you?"

Max dutifully hands him his blue pencil. His eyes are still shining, even though Daniel's had to stop holding his hand so that he can sharpen it for him. When he hands it back, all sharp, Max tucks his hand into Daniel's again.

"You've done some good colouring in of this train," Daniel says. "Have you been on a train, Maxy-Max?"

Max shakes his head.

"Would you like to go on one?"

Max's eyes widen. "A train?"

"Yeah," Daniel nods. "If you'd like, we can go and find a train to go on tomorrow. If you want to. We can take Pikachu."

"But not the Jimmy or Sassys," Max says, frowning. "They would not like the train and they might get lost."

"No," Daniel agrees. "The Jimmy or Sassy cats can stay here."

"There is a cat in my train picture but it is not our cats."

"No," Daniel says. "So, should we go on a train tomorrow?"

"Yes, please, Daniel," Max says, in satisfaction.

Daniel watches him colour even as he's avoiding texting Christian to let him know Max has gone small and isn't getting big again. He follows up on his avoidance by ordering a night light for Max's bedroom and one for the bathroom, in case his little boy is frightened of the dark and is too scared to say. He pays extra for same-day delivery.

He'll call Christian later, when Max is in bed. Instead, he googles train stations, and train timetables, and puts together a plan for the morning.

Max keeps his hand tucked into Daniel's, carries on colouring, and doesn't let go.

Thank you so much to Zoe @flawlessassholes for giving this a pre-post read through, and for consistently being interested in all baby Max lore!

[archeolatry]

Go take a look at this beautiful trove of old SparkSound magazines someone is selling on eBay. For the price they might as well be made out of gold, but the seller's been nice enough to take big, largely readable photos of so many of the issues. Is there a similar digital hoard of scanned versions? I'd love to see more! (I've seen photo pages in full but only snippets of the rest.) The absolute like... raw, sloppy, fanzine chaos of these as as official publications from a major label band is blowing my fucking mind, even if it is just for the fan club. It's literally their mom cutting and pasting and cramming mentions from both Melody Maker and TV Guide onto an A3 sheet of paper, layouts be damned. The apostrophe on her typewriter is broken for a couple issues but she carries on with an asterisk. She's also around 60 by this point and banging this out to an audience of hundreds or thousands like it's a local Kiwanis club newsletter. But she's doing it with gusto, by gum, and it's punk as hell. The best thing about it is that the lack of style is made up for by the absolute top-tier access to the band, and her being surprisingly on top of pertinent details.

For those of you who weren't in a fandom before the internet, those behind-the-scenes photos were like your favorite band's proof of life. There was no Instagram or Twitter, or anything that proved they existed between national TV appearances and touring in your area (besides those mentions in Melody Maker anyway). If you were lucky, your fandom had the capacity to trade videotapes and people in Scranton could see local TV appearances in Los Angeles and vice-versa. If you were really lucky they weren't all copies of copies with potato quality sound and video. Likewise, if you wanted the 12" extended European dance mix of a song with a B-side unavailable in the US, you had to either special order it somewhere and pay through the nose, hope it was in the imports section of a record store (and still pay through the nose), or you had to trade cassettes or burned CDs and hope the other person didn't flake on you. The fact that she's saying "Don't go running to the import section yet, the single will be out on ____ record label on this date with this track listing" is WAY more info than we usually got from our official sources. All "Mary Martin" needed to do for exclusive content was take pictures of her sons on vacation. On one page she's absolutely dunking on Russell them in wry cut-and-paste captions and on another she is the perfect hype man, telling people shows at The Greek Theater are gonna sell out so get your tickets early (but hold your horses on travelling- they're working on Japanese dates for September so you may not need to fly to the US). The personal thank-yous! The CARE! *slams fist on table* If any other band had their mom as the head of their fan club it'd be the most contrived shit in the universe, a complete lie, or both. I fucking love these guys.

[lyralit]

4.1.24 - the importance of learning new things

As much as I think academic & work focus is incredibly important going into the new year, one of my other goals is to practice doing more: to learn all of the things I want to do, in addition to work, in addition to writing. I want to know how to do thousands of little things, and I think the longer we wait, the less likely we are to do them.

Picking up a new hobby doesn't have to be buying a dozen textbooks and spending hundreds of dollars on lessons because you might have the slightest interest: it can be from whatever you have here, now, and you'll never learn if you don't get started.

Some of the things I've been getting into (as I've mentioned before) are baking & crocheting. it just feels so cozy and nice & I love the idea of comfort.

here is a list of things I want to / you should try that's new!

learning a new language. fifteen minutes a day, I kid you not. I'm learning latin on duolingo and I don't ever think about it, but when I do it (25 day streak 💪🏻), I'm starting to notice my improvements

consuming good media. and that's not scrolling for half an hour on tumblr. it's books—deep ones and silly ones and ones about romance and dragons and apocalypses. it's movies! I watched keira knightley's pride and prejudice twice in the last few months, and also three men and a baby which is something I never thought I would watch, but it was quite funny I think. and I learn from it: I cannot write humour or romance for the life of me, so it's basically studying to write (is the self-gaslighting too evident?)

learning to crochet. I made a silly little headband today, after scrolling through pinterest and desperately wanting one. I started crocheting in december to give as gifts (I completed none of my wips, much like when I write) and used the tools I had around me: an old rainbow loom hook and whatever string I could find. now I'm proud to say I can read somewhat fluently crochet acronyms.

baking. I keep saying this. I know. but when I tell you a two years ago I was exploding cupcakes in the oven and last month I made bakery-style cookies...I made bread! a loaf of bread! (in a bread machine, but it's so good and I instantly made another. there is one in the bread machine right now). honestly it just made me feel that much better about improvement, and trying new things, and that is the mindset I want for the new year.

learning to code. in all honesty, I never thought I was a compsci - engineer kind of person. then this year, out of sudden (masterminded) urges, I joined a bunch of tech and robotics initiatives, and maybe it's the sense of community (I can rejoice in finding another nerdy group) but now I am happily chauffeuring myself to these meetings 4h a week. I'm looking into pursuing more into the fields of eng and science. and I'm learning some code from one of the friends I've made!

starting a blog. ...I know most of the people who linger around my blog stay for the writing content (the last posts have turned this writerblr into a digital diary, and I'm only half sorry for that). but since I've joined tumblr (almost three years ago now!) I've got to meet so many wonderful people (including you!) and want to try so many things.

and I get it. it's overwhelming. so here are some starting goals that maybe I'll try also.

start doing art. -> make a card for someone as a gift.

learn a new sport & start exercising. (I'm trying out track & field in the spring, so stay tuned to figure out how that goes) -> see if someone will come play ball with you. do 1 or 2 youtube workout videos a week.

film videos of your daily life. it doesn't need to be for posting! -> edit together clips you've taken for a last year recape.

start a scrapbook. -> print out photos and dig up construction paper. decorate a page.

make a poetry journal. -> go on pinterest to read poetry! pin styles you like and set fifteen minutes to writing.

make a regular journal! -> write once a day. just try: goals for the day in the morning, or a recap at night.

try your hand at gardening. -> research plants that grow well in your region. see if any of the seeds you may have at home are useful. water your lawn. buy a plant and try to keep it alive (set reminders, leave it in front of your sink)

learn to make candles. -> watch a youtube tutorial. see if you can play around with candles you already have.

play chess. -> see if someone will play chess with you. no? chess.com is right there. go make an account. go find a stranger.

learn to play an instrument off youtube. -> maybe you have a piano sitting around, or a guitar you've never touched. you don't even need to master it. pick a song you like and google that. no instrument? maybe there's a way to play drums with home items.

go for a run. -> once a week. a set time. just shoes and the outdoors. too cold? go to a gym and use a treadmill. maybe that's not possible? skip rope.

start / join a book club. -> just you, or some close friends, or people online. a book a month. talk about it.

** on that note, would anyone like to join a tumblr book club? slide into my asks and maybe we can get a blog list!

thank you for reading again <3 until next time.

k.