#i just wrote this in 30 min

[gammija]

[CECIL]: "So, as we move into the final hours of the competition, vote! Whether it's for your favorite, local, Night Vale community radio host or some... pile of bones, don't let your voice go unheard.

Also... Well, this might be a little bit outside the rules, but you could even make a second account to show a little more support for whoever you think should win. You probably won't get caught. As City Council declared in a recent press release, "Voter fraud doesn't exist."

"There is no such thing as voter fraud," City Council said last Wednesday, their many mouths moving as one. "No one can vote more than once. We certainly can't. Ha, ha." Some of their feet shuffled. "We definitely did NOT commit voter fraud by using the recently developed cloning technology to make copies of ourselves, force them to vote for us, then bus them into the Whispering Forest where we threw them out. That. Never. Happened," they added emphatically.

Immediately after the press conference they disbanded the City Council's, 'Night Vale committee for Fair Elections', by eating them."

[A door creaks.]

[CECIL]: "Listeners, someone has just entered my studio.

Uhm, excuse me! You're not allowed to be in here!

It looks like it's a small man, with a smoothly bald head, and dark empty eyes...

Oh no. They're sockets. This must be him, this 'Snas' the skeleton. He's coming to defend his title...

Listeners, as I prepare myself for what will surely be a fight to the death, seeing who takes who out first, I take you... To the weather."

[CECIL]: "Welcome back. I know you're all dying to know whether I won the Tumblr sexyman poll, and if I defeated the small skeleton. Well...

I was all ready to fight, getting into a stance, when the skeleton held up his hands. He said that he didn't want to fight, and that he'd come here to concede and hand me the title.

I'll admit, I was a bit taken aback by this at first. Of course, I had to protest. Wouldn't that be unfair to the few people who voted for him, I asked?

But he explained that, since he already won last year, he wasn't really looking forward to all the attention and hassle from winning a second time. And seeing as it apparently meant a lot to me, he'd rather just let me win than miss his wedding.

Yeah, apparently he's about to be wed to someone named Komaeda in a few days? Good for him.

Dear listeners, after his heartfelt plee, I felt I had no choice but to accept the win.

Which means I am now, officially, Tumblr sexyman of 2023. Yay!

Stay tuned next for muffled sounds of celebration, overheard from a neighbour's house nearby.

Good night, Night Vale. Good night."

[babycandle]

kindergarten teacher!reader x john price imagine 🖍️🧨❤️‍🩹

You first meet John when he comes to pick up his niece and nephew with his sister-in-law.

According to Lucy, his brother’s wife, he’s a government worker who is constantly traveling for work, and the kids missed their super cool uncle dearly. You’d heard many stories from the kids themselves, but this Uncle John remained sort of an enigma to you, like an imaginary friend.

Nothing could have prepared you for the real Uncle John.

He stands at a good head (and maybe half) taller than you, dressed in a casual navy shirt and utilitarian cargo trousers, a baseball cap embroidered with the British flag atop his head. Thick facial hair covers most of his lower face, but it doesn't do much to hide the bright smile he gets as soon as he lays eyes on the kids. The ease with which he picks up his niece and nephew, Olivia and Oliver, nearly leaves you breathless – not to mention, the sight of his thick, fuzzy arms flexing and unflexing as he tosses a kid over each shoulder, eliciting delighted squeals from them both.

(In some decrepit corner in your mind, you wonder if he could do the same to you. Probably.)

As you're chatting with her and updating her about her kids’ day, Lucy motions him over so she can introduce you to each other. “This is my husband's brother, John!”

“Hello there, lass.”

The smooth, brassy tones of his voice wash over you like a tidal wave that you’d happily drown in. You introduce yourself as the kids’ kindergarten teacher, and he gives you a good-natured smile as his niece and nephew start climbing all over him like a tree. “I hope they haven't been causing you much trouble,” he chuckles, a twinkle in his eye.

You try your best to swallow the dryness in your mouth. “Of course not! It’s a joy to watch them learn and grow everyday,” you reply sheepishly, clearing your throat as you avert your gaze.

You're too busy internally cursing yourself for not looking a bit more put together; there's dirt and sand all over the bottom half of your overalls, paint splatters going all the way up your arms and maybe even on your face, and your hair is matted and frizzy. Self-consciously scuffing the soles of your sneakers against the floor as you try and fail to get the sand off of it, you miss the way his gaze rakes over you from head to toe, the corner of his mouth curling in interest.

It's at that exact moment that Lucy plucks her kids off of John and hands them each their backpack to carry themselves. You deflate a little, knowing that that's their cue to leave.

However, you instantly perk back up again when John turns to you, his arms now empty, and extends a hand for you to shake. “‘Twas a pleasure meeting you, lass. Hope to see you around more often, yeah?”

Your heart catches in your throat as you reach out to shake his hand. When he grabs you in a firm, warm grip, you feel his calloused fingerpads brush over the back of your hand, and you have to suppress a shiver from running down your back.

“It was nice meeting you too, John.” You offer him a shy smile, praying that your cheeks don't look as warm as they feel.

You distantly wonder if you were imagining his touch lingering just a tad too long before he finally lets go.

As he turns around to leave with his family, you're quickly whisked away by the other kids demanding your attention. Consequently, you don't notice the way his eyes stay on you even as he walks out the gates, nor do you notice the way his sister-in-law waggles her eyebrows at him suggestively as soon as they're out of earshot.

You don't have high hopes of seeing him after that, of course. Maybe it's just the fact that you've been single for several years since your first serious relationship ended – yes, you convince yourself, that's why you can't stop thinking about him all night. That's why you still feel the weight of his hand in yours, the brush of his fingers on your skin tickling like a phantom touch. That's why the sound of his voice echoes in your mind like a broken record, and that's why you keep thinking back to the way his eyes crinkled when he looked fondly at his niece and nephew.

But you can't deny the way your chest squeezes when, the next day at kindy, he comes by to pick up the kids again – this time, alone.

bonus (an alternative pov):

There's a very short, concise list of the things Price lives for. Since the birth of his brother’s daughter, she’s been undoubtedly added to the top of that list. Then followed the birth of his nephew as well, who obviously followed suit and quickly became a serious contender for the number one spot.

He makes it a point to visit his brother’s family every single time he gets time off without fail. The kids grow up absolutely adoring their super cool, super strong uncle who always comes back from his business trips with funny stories to share. (Their favourite activity to do with him is hanging off his arm, almost using it like a monkey bar.)

So, when he’s finally granted leave after nearly a year of bouncing all over the world and eliminating several apocalypse-level threats, the first thing he does is call his brother and fly back straight to them.

He lands while the kids are at kindergarten, so when Lucy offers to bring him along to pick them up, he jumps at the chance. (He made sure to take a very thorough shower before hopping on the flight here, not wanting a single speck of dirt from foreign lands or speck of blood on him. Even so, before he leaves with Lucy, he takes extra care to wash his hands and scrub underneath his fingernails again. Just in case.)

It goes without question that he's absolutely over the moon to see Olivia and Oliver – the sight of them running to him, screaming his name in joy is nearly enough to make him melt. He sweeps them up in his arms, holding onto them like a lifeline.

Occupied with the kids for a few minutes, he glances up to see where Lucy has gone. Then, he sees you.

You're chatting with Lucy, your smile bright and your eyes brighter. There's wildflowers tucked into every pocket on your overalls and rainbows of paint on your arms, as well as a smudge of yellow on the side of your cheek. The soft afternoon sunlight hits your hair at just the right angle that it highlights the stray strands of hair on your head, making you look like you're wearing a halo.

For a moment, all the bustle and noise around him winds down into a fuzzy, white silence. You're the prettiest thing he's ever laid eyes on.

[call-memissbrightside]

can i request an angst/comfort where bkg and reader get into an argument where reader is jealous and frustrated of his coworker who is obviously flirting with him, but he doesn’t notice?

tw: physical fight, jealousy, bad words

It’s the way she throws her head back to laugh at every moment Katsuki blows up as Kirishima explains about the time they snuck out of the dorms to sneak off to the red district— blah, blah, blah, you’ve heard the story a million times. It’s not that funny, it doesn’t require the little intern from Katsuki’s agency to howl like a hyena as the story unfolded. She definitely didn’t need to pat your boyfriend’s chest to calm him down.

“You okay?” Shoto asked, nudging you with his elbow. You were glaring hard, the drink in your hand almost shattering at how hard you were holding it.

It’s when the little intern laid her head on Katsuki’s chest as she held her stomach as Kirishima concluded the story, that’s when you had enough.

“Oh I’m about to beat this bitch up,” you declare, moving towards them and quickly pulled the chick off Katsuki by her hair.

Of course the fight (could you call it that if only you fished out the punches?) didn’t last long with all the heroes at the little kickback in Izuku’s backyard.

Katsuki had to pull you away, his arm like steel across your abdomen as he hauled you off the intern who was now on the floor, bleeding and crying.

You didn’t feel bad. You didn’t feel anything but anger. Now that the threat was gone, you turned that anger towards your boyfriend.

“What the fuck is your problem?”

Katsuki was mad too, and he looked like he had no idea why you just beat up the intern.

The whole thing made you laugh .

“You sicko, you liked having that little girl all up on you? What is she? Barely seventeen?”

You try walking back into the party but Katsuki moved to block you.

“Don’t tell me you got into a fight because of a little flirting from the intern?” Katsuki just knew how to piss you off.

“You fucking knew she was flirting with you in front of me and you did nothing? Wow, real piece of shit you are.” You were beyond livid.

“Enough,” Katsuki ordered but you didn’t want to back down. The drinks in your stomach and the jealousy in your heart wouldn’t let you.

“Let me guess, you’re fucking her?” Katsuki rolled his eyes at your cheap dig.

Much to your annoyance, he was quick in pulling you into his chest and smacking your ass hard, making you jump and hiss in pain.

“Shut the fuck up, you know I only dream of your pussy,” Katsuki mumbled against your closed lips, eager to make you break and kiss him back.

Tears, stupid tears of fear and rejection made your eyes sting but you blinked hard to stop them from falling.

“Oh baby.”

All teasing ceased once he heard you sniffle. Hugging you to his chest, Katsuki placed a brute kiss on your forehead.

“Im sorry, I should’ve said something.” He sighed, swaying your body to help calm you down.

“I don’t like her like that,” he continued. “She was drunk and I was worried she’d fall over and Kirishima just kept talking —,” Katsuki shook his head.

“I didn’t mean for you to get hurt by that.” Katsuki said, softly. “I’m sorry.”

All the high emotions were gone and now you just felt small but Katsuki held you for a bit more as the party continued on like nothing ever happened.

Kissing Katsuki and promising no more fights, you walked hand in hand with him back to where the party was held.

“Go on,” Katsuki was back to teasing and he loved the cringe look on your face as you went to go apologize to the intern. You’d only given her a small bruise on her cheek and she seemed more than happy with all the attention Kirishima was now giving her.

After that awkward conversation and the promise that as long as you kept your distance, she wouldn’t press charges, you returned to your boyfriend.

He was sitting in a lawn chair, sipping on a beer and patted his thigh for you to sit in his lap.

“Crazy bitch,” Katsuki kissed your neck, squeezing you into a hug with his chest to your back. You opened your mouth to argue but Katsuki squeezed you.

“I wouldn’t trade you for anyone else.”

[layraket]

Hunters - Creatures Gang

Some hours ago they all ended up running in a group of hylians, normally the ones who are more familiarized with them will make sure to get them away from the rest. 

Sadly their luck had other plans.

They suddenly appeared and tried to take down first the bigger ones, Warriors being one of the principal objectives. Hunters? It’s very likely as they are walking through Legend’s era.

Their second main victim for some reason was Hyrule. They all knew that being a fairy is hard just for the fact that they’re small and vulnerable, but he was never a worry when they found themself attacked.

The hylians had tried to keep the fairy of the group inside a bottle, the rest keeping all of them away. If it wasn’t for Sky and using his wings to distract them, Hyrule will be trapped there for who knows what amount of time. 

After getting them all away and finally scaring them with one of Wild’s bombs—They all were sure that it wasn’t only to threaten them— The little fairy was already on top of a tree, hidden in some empty nest inside the wood. 

This is why he stays away from hylians! He doesn’t understand why some of their group swear that they’re friendly. They don’t understand being hunted just for own benefit your whole life. 

“Hyrule! They’re gone! you can get down now!” That was Four, the mouse kept his distance with hylians, but not for the same reasons. Still, he was one of his closest supports.

But, right now? He prefers staying there.

“Rulie! Just get down, we need to keep going!” That was Legend, he was already wondering where the rabbit went when the hunters appeared. “I doubt that Wind will be able to get there without hitting himself with the tree four times.”

He should get down, this wasn’t the big deal. They’re gone and it is not probable that there are more of them waiting for him. But if he gets down they would come back, they were so determinate to keep him in that bottle, maybe-

“I’ll ask Sky to get me up there if you don’t come here!” 

“Okay okay! I’ll go” Legend wasn’t fond of getting close to the bigger ones, and he doesn’t want to make him uncomfortable. He flew out of the nest and in a flash of light he was already next to the bunny and the mouse. “We can go now.”

Legend frowned, got closer and put his head lower. “Get on, you can stay here”

The fairy looked at him a little confused, he used to stay on top of his head a lot for low energy, but now he was so much better! He doesn't need this. 

“Four can stay with you” Before the mouse said something he pushed him, making him nod in response.

He wasn’t tired, he could fly without problem the next few hours, but if Legend was offering… He flew and sat on top of the rabbit’s head, a little later the mouse getting there for himself. 

They got back with the rest of the group, and even where he sat it wasn’t impossible to miss how Legend ignored how all of them saw them. This was a little unusual with their rabbit, but everyone was polite enough to not point it out.

Hyrule grabbed some of the pink fluff, testing if it bothers Legend, and when not seeing a response he just let himself sink in the furr. Four stayed next to him and started chatting with himself and giving random facts to keep the silence away.

The hunters now were the last of the things inside his mind, his wings were less tense than before—When did he tensed them?— and Four’s company is really nice to have now.

The rest of their trip continued without interference and they all got safely to Legend’s home, and Legend had to get help from Wild and Four to take a sleepy fairy off of his head.

---

I told you there was gonna be more of Hyrule!

AU masterpost

[immergladsss]

Moonacre Week 2024- Isolation (V0)

(Version 0)

“Oi Robin!” Richard called from somewhere below. “Where’ve you gone off to this time?”

“Your father wants to have a word with you!” David shouted from somewhere to the west. 

But Robin didn’t answer. Instead, he inched back along the high tree branch on which he was precariously perched. He pushed into the thinning tree trunk, further into the canopy’s shadows and away from the eyes and ears of his friends below. 

The last thing he wanted was to speak to his father again. He didn't need another reminder of the utter dolt that he was. Or the sore excuse for an heir.

When they had first learned of George Merryweather’s death, Robin didn't hesitate to jump at the opportunity of swiping the pearls from right under their noses. With death in their heads, they were bound to be mindless of their surroundings. What he didn't expect was for the Merryweather heir to have so many goddamn belongings.

It was damn near impossible to maneuver that maze of a bedroom. What a frivolous London fop.

And all it took was a misstep against a cabinet for it all to go to shit.

Robin let out a deep breath.

No. He didn’t need any more reminders of that. Besides, he looked up at the sky, he had about a few hours or so until the Merryweather’s arrival. He had time to clear his head. 

That's what he needed right now.

Silence. Clarity. Some isolation to remove that Merryweather face from his mind.

To forget the unnecessary details.

He didn’t need to know how the moonlight illuminated his ridiculously soft copper waves or delicately pink lips. How his freckles formed the constellation of Orion across his pale and smooth cheek. How the collar of his loose tunic was skewed just enough to reveal—

Robin froze.

He clenched his fists and dug his nails into his hands. “Moon Prince, ha!” he spat, trying to elicit the feelings of hatred and revenge for the Merryweathers that had been driven into him since a young age.

…Yet he couldn’t help but think… that Merryweather certainly looked like a Prince.

[thatsrightice]

Me to myself when I don’t want to do a ton of research for a single line of text in a fanfic:

[trashcandroid]

sometimes i want to grab twitter users by the face and just scream and scream and scream and scream and violently shake and scream

[forlorn-crows]

i just want dew to be loved so....

Aether peppers little kisses behind his horns, across his cheekbones, along the curve of his jaw. He wraps his big hands around Dew’s waist, pulling him closer against his chest.

“Aethe—what—” his hands are dripping with dishwater where he’s holding them above the sink like a helpless praying mantis. Aether just keeps kissing him, laughter bubbling up in his chest as he purposefully gets more enthusiastic. He noses for that spot on Dew’s neck that makes him crazy, but his breath is huffing over his skin with silent giggles, only serving to make Dew scrunch up and attempt to flee.

“Stop you bastard—t-tickles, stop, Aetheee,” he whines, fangs desperately trying to stifle the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Aether bumps his horns into Dew’s affectionately, ceasing his onslaught of kisses. “You’re just so cute, I couldn’t resist.”

Dew reaches for a nearby towel, still pinned against the quintessence ghoul’s body. “Right, because me doing the dishes is so attractive.”

Aether gasps in mock offense. “Excuse me, it is. I saw you from across the room and my heart stopped, fire lily.”

Dew’s face burns. “Whatever,” he mumbles, tossing the dishtowel on the counter. He crosses his arms and peers at Aether out of the corner of his eye, mouth still fighting back a grin.

“Look at you,” he presses the pad of a finger into the corner of Dew’s mouth, smiling wide. “Acting all shy. Like you don’t know how cute you are.”

Dew hangs his head, silvery hair falling to block his face. “Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“See! Doing it again,” he teases, pleased with the peek of dusty pink now running down his neck. Aether brushes the hair away from his face. “I love you all flustered,” he mutters, kissing the shell of his pointed ear. An involuntary shiver runs down Dew’s spine.

“I’m not flustered. Now if you’ll excuse me I have dishes to finish, thank you very much.”

“I think you’re a filthy liar,” Aether laughs, pulling him closer still. Dew wriggles in his grasp. Aether easily adjusts his grip to still the chaotic fire ghoul. He rubs his nose into Dew’s hair, inhaling the smell of cinnamon and shampoo. He exhales, purring contently.

“Do you know how crazy you make me? I just wanna eat you up,” he trills.

The reverberations are slightly intoxicating, lulling even. Aether’s still nosing and mouthing at his ear, over and over on that sensitive spot just above the back of the lobe. The combination of both of these things plus Aether’s words has him easily melting into the bigger ghoul, tipping his head back to rest on his collarbone and whining under his breath.

“Oh, like that, do you? Not distracting you, am I?” Aether asks with false innocence.

Dew ignores the tone entirely, in fact completely distracted by him. “N-no, I love it,” he stutters.

“Mm, I love you, honeydew.” Normally the rhyme would make him roll his eyes and scoff, but right now he couldn’t care less. Aether continues to kiss at the expanse of blushed skin between his ear and shoulder, pace considerably lazier and more pointed than before. His hands are roaming too, up and down his arms, his torso, palming at his waist. He gasps as Aether runs one hand down the front of his hip, sucking lightly on the junction of his neck at the same time.

He spins around in Aether’s grasp, looking up at him through long lashes. He runs a finger down his chest, stopping to poke him in the sternum.

“Why don’t you show me how much you love me, since you so rudely interrupted my chores, hm?”

Aether grins, grasping Dew’s chin with one hand. He leans in, centimeters from Dew’s lips.

“My pleasure.”

[officialbillhader]

There's something about Mac. Like that stupid movie from the '90s, except no one is chasing Mac, no one is lying to him, tricking him, finding him across the country and flying to him with blind hope. Not even Dennis, who isn't quite sure what he'd do if anyone else tried to get with Mac. But it doesn't matter, because no one but Dennis sees what he sees in Mac. There's something about Mac, but only for Dennis.

He remembers when they first met. When he overpaid for the blunt because he brought too much cash and didn't want to deal with the rest in his pocket, back when he was rich, when he didn't have an alimony payment and debt that wasn't his to begin with, a failing bar with his name listed in the paperwork. A failing bar with Mac, but he's off topic, because this is about Mac, and passing blunts around with him under the old football bleachers and talking late in the night about their fathers, inviting Charlie over every once in a while to watch him get high off glue, but Dennis's eyes were always on the pink of Mac's always dry lips.

He'd like to say it was hard to leave Mac for college, but it wasn't. It was a way for him to fulfill his long laid plans, and he had to make peace that he hadn't planned on seeing Mac ever again. But he did see him, because Mac would show up on weekends, crash in his frat room, smoke with the window wide open, chastise Dennis for smoking a cigarrete while he'd be chugging down a blunt. He's never made much sense like that, yet it's endearing. It's always been endearing. And stupid. So fucking stupid. College was the first time Mac watching Dennis fuck a chick, the only time he's gotten to see it in real life, but Dennis later found ways to conspicously watch Mac jerk off again at the same time he told him it's only what bros do.

There was one time they made out. New Year's Eve, both crossfaded, it just happened, and Dennis slipped out that he wishes they could always do this, and Mac looked at him dumbly and said nothing. Mac threw up the next morning, but Dennis never did. He invited Mac to watch him fuck three weekends after that.

There was no reason they needed to move in together except for haunting teenage dreams and before Dennis knew it Mac was cursing and saying he wouldn't be able to co-sign the lease because his credit score is fucked. Dennis's wasn't great, but it was better. Dennis made Mac sign a shitty handwritten contract that stated he would pay half the rent despite not being on the lease, and Mac signed it after some argument, but then Dennis never held him to it. He figured Mac made up for it in other ways, like sometimes making them burnt eggs for breakfast or restocking their beer supply or putting a blanket over Dennis when he passes out during movie night. It's something, at the very least.

And he never would have expected Mac to become gay, never would have expected him to admit it, but something shifted in him once Mac did. It was nothing, but it was the biggest experience of his life, and it wasn't even his expierence. There was just something about Mac. Something about their future. Something about a declaration of love and joy and fucking men instead of woman, which Mac quickly became no stranger too.

Leaving him for North Dakato was easy, until it wasn't. He soon realized that it wasn't college and Mac wasn't going to randomly show up every once in a while. It was real, adult, fatherly life. It was absolute hell. It was life about Mac without Mac.

He knows it hasn't been the same since. His abandonment left a permanent scar. Mac hasn't looked at him the same way since and the closest they got was during lockdown, was while royally fucking up the presidential election, but Dennis was oddly happy. He was singing with his best friend while they both had glimmers in their eye, and he never minded when Mac would steer their lyrics towards gay sex and Dennis would have to reel him back to more flowery things. It was all Mac's idea, everything they did during quarantine, but Dennis followed. He followed happily.

When he got Covid, he had fever dreams of Mac and the castle. Dreams he hasn't wanted to revisit since for good reason, dreams he hopes he forgets one day, if only so the unfettering ache in his chest will leave.

But there's always something about Mac. There's always something about Mac and their future. Dennis just isn't sure what.

[olliecoded]

2 poems in 2 days??? is this real life????

[daxterknight]

so i’m no artist by any means but i do the music thing sometimes and while reading @spookyybird and @oh-snapperss ethubs resistance au fic (specifically “promised”) i was inspired to write some music about them meeting towards the end of this chapter. this is the wip of that lil song :) 

here’s a lil insight of what i did with the song: - the song is the key of Eb bc Etho/bdubs (i think im funny) - the drone in the background (cello) is the idea of the impending threat of people catching them meeting but it's also symbolic in a way of who's "speaking" per se. etho gets the Eb note and Bdubs get’s the Bb note - the wood marimba is meant to be etho and the metal vibraphone is meant to be bdubs just bc it made sense in my head (im also a percussionist so most of my works are with percussion instruments LMAO) - the two fast notes by themselves are meant to be the other saying "e-tho" or "b-dubs" and they keep going back to saying it throughout their convo. the very first one is meant to be etho saying bdubs and then silence bc he wasn't at the balcony yet (like in the fic), then more dramatic silence after bdubs responds just bc musically it sounded better imo than going straight into a phrase

[goldfish-fhr]

@iggydabirdkid I am inspired by you 🤭

But I have not the imagination for AUs as you do haha so mine is def a one shot ☺️

“I was wondering how you got your hair to stay so nice all night.”

You drop the box of Bobby pins. Almost drop the dark wig too. You eye her with wide eyes as she makes her way into your dressing room, a look bordering guilt as she eyes the scatter of pins on the floor.

You think you're going to be sick.

You don’t make a move to pick up the mess so when she finally gets close enough, gets to her knees as she scoops up the majority of the pins and places the box back on your table. She doesn't get back up—instead, props herself onto one pants clothed knee and stares up at you, the silver cuffs shine at her side, but she only needs her eyes to hold you in place right now.

“It’s fake” you say. You sit still, like any sudden movements might set her off.

She smiles, “I can see that” runs a hand through her own hair—drastically different from your own stubble of a buzz cut—“I don’t think I could pull that off, but it’s kinda cute on you”

Your lips tug downward before you can pretend to even buy her compliment.

“Cute like a little boy” you raise an eyebrow, because you know she’s lying.

“N—she stutter on a laugh, not quite expecting you to admit that—no of course not”

Your eyes shift to the door behind her, before landing back on hers. You swallow. You know she saw—know she's trained to pick up little things like that, but you don't have much of a choice right now.

When it's clear you won’t be playing hostess she sighs. The humor leaves her face and leaves someone looking much more tired and worn than the woman you made eye contact earlier this night. She finally reveals to you why she's here—like you don't know.

“I have a few question for you”

You’re sure she does.

“You see—“

You stand up.

Fast enough she almost loses her balance.

You swerve behind your cushioned chair and make your way to the bathroom. There’s a window—too small for most people—but you're desperate and you’re sure with a few dislocated bones you can squeeze through.

“Ma’am—“

You hear a clatter behind you as she hurries to her feet and you practically run to the bathroom door.

“I don’t think this concerns you—“ you try to shut the door. But she easily stops it, one hand wrapped around the knob.

“Oh—I think it does” her tone leaves absolutely no room for argument. She doesn’t look happy.

You eye her hand. You eye the door. You could slam it shut—want to slam it—you could but how many innocent women would do that?

So you concede. Back away from the big dark wooden door into the candle lit interior of the bathroom. Turn to the sink basin and splash your face, pretend the only reason for your hasty retreat was to remove all that makeup off. You don't need to fully turn as you see her figure lean on the sink back to it.

The room isn’t big—you’ve never minded before.

Right now you do.

Her size makes this seem far too much like a cell—the star on her blouse catches the dancing candle light and you think—might as well get used to the idea of one.

“Look,—“ she starts and you take a deep breath, stare at the mirror—at the vomit green wall behind you, as your stomach flips.

“—I’m sure you’ve heard…there’s been a few robberies around town—we—I have been following a bit of a lead—she eyes you—and well it seems all lead here”

Your heart is jackhammering. Your breathing is growing erratic uneven—you’ve never been slick.

wear your emotions on your sleeve, and right now as you look at yourself in the mirror, it’s obvious— you look like a frantic mess.

”please—“ a desperate plea that fall from your lips, you look into your eyes and you try to will the tears you see building to leave, “—I’ll do anything, i—“ because you will. God you will. You have no doubt what will happen to you—punishment fit for the crime—and well—you’ve done some pretty awful things.

“Anything—“ you don't get to finish as she turns to you with an urgency. You don't look at her—stare straight ahead into your frightened eyes.

“Look if he’s forcing you into anything—“

He?

You finally turn. And you quickly realize, you have to strain your neck to look up at her. She's tall, intimidatingly tall. Maybe this was why she was so eager to get on her knees for you—to lean on the sink…she doesn’t want to scare you.

This idiot has no fucking clue who you are.

“—you need to tell me.” She looks so serious.

And you continue staring. Eyes wide—and you don’t doubt red rimmed with the tears that are still threatening to fall.

Her eyes soften, “it’s okay if you’re scared. That’s why I’m here.” And she steps closer, slowly reaching out her hands until she's holding your own. “But you need to tell me—I can’t help you if you don't”

Her hands engulf yours easily, and you can understand why any other young little thing might feel safe with hands like hers. Might feel inclined to lean in and share all their secrets.

And by god you are scared.

And you don’t hide it anymore. You cry like the little girl you know she—everyone—sees you as.

“I’m scared” you tell her—weak and broken.

And when you feel her pull your body towards her, you don’t stop her. You melt right in. “It’s okay” she soothes “no one’s going to hurt you”

You can’t remember the last time someone held you like this—with the intent to comfort and keep safe.

“You're safe,” she says.

You laugh—it’s a wet thing—it just falls from you, pure relief at the turn of events.

And you cry, you cry because you don’t have the words. Never needed them before. The gun did all the talking and—a dark realization falls onto you. As she holds your sobbing figure to her, like a prayer answered—your hands—clutching at her—skim the top of her gun.

It happens fast. Two shots later and you're out the bathroom door and she's grasping the sink.

honestly? You’re as surprised as she is. Her white blouse quickly blossoms darker than your boudoir roses and you think ideally that red is her color. Can't even tell how quickly she's paling with that bronze skin warmed by the hue.

Sniffling you realize something as you look into the now grim face of the Marshall—maybe you hadn’t noticed with the glare of that golden star on her chest when she first leaned in—but she has the most beautiful eyes you've ever seen.

“You know?” and you take a step forward, you were hoping for a jerk back—some sort of prey panic in those doe lashed eyes—but she doesn't so much as blink’ “I think you’re right Marshal” and you smile. Something soft. Something deceiving.

You raise the gun.

“I think I am safe”

Aiming it straight for her head.

[catrillion]

Been feeling really off/dizzy/tunnel vision-y today, my iron is probably mad low or something but whatever, the point is I was wanting to do some editing of all the stuff I wrote yesterday but my dizziness is making that feel like the most arduous task ever lol

[magentagalaxies]

in an unexpected turn of events i'm having to edit down the content in my aubrey monologues so that i can actually fit all four of them in my final performance for my standup class and on the one hand it sucks bc i really love some of the jokes i have to cut but on the other hand someday i'll be able to write more monologues and possibly expand upon this cut material so i can get a whole monologue on a topic that would've just been an aside

[vegancas]

made some icky tumblr quality gifs from Friday night!! 💖💖💖

[quaranmine]

hoping tomorrow with the combination of day off + snow + cold weather blanket coziness that i can magically bang out some serious firewatch au progress