#maybe i wasted my money on them but i can't live with all these things in my room. i need to rebuild from scratch

[taconafide2]

I have this extreme urge to throw out half of my belongings but i'm afraid my mother wouldn't let me

#maybe i wasted my money on them but i can't live with all these things in my room. i need to rebuild from scratch

[mirohlayo]

hello lynaa!!

could you do (any driver) x reader where they just spoil em rotten with all these never ending very expensive gifts and reader gets emotional and he comforts her?

i love ur work btw <3

hello !! i literally LOVE this one, thanks for requesting it :)) i really struggle to choose between charles and oscar but i decided to go with oscar yeah (also thank u so much it's so sweet 🫶) hope it's okay !!

YOU'RE MY BEST GIFT | OP81

( despite the fact you don't like it, oscar can't stop spoiling you because you deserve everything )

warning : none just reader getting emotional, fluff and fluff

word count : 2.8k

!! english is not my first language !!

you are for sure the most precious person ever for oscar. being his partner means that he constantly makes sure you're always happy. he literally puts all his being into your relationship, he tries his best to keep everything perfect. if you're not satisfied enough then he's not either, and he always manage to do his best to make you feel fulfilled by his love and affection.

it also means that he obviously likes to spoil you. it's kind of his love language. he needs to buy you something, whether an object that reminded him of you or tons of expensive stuffs like perfumes, clothes, shoes... money doesn't matter for him, as long as he makes you happy with his little gifts then everything is good. plus he earns a pretty good amount of money, so he doesn't wait a single to waste it into gifting you lots of things.

so of course he notices the little stuff you were always looking at, whether on your phone in your shopping cart or when you would stare a bit too much at some storefronts during your dates. he often catches you looking at this pair of shoes that you really want for a while now, this oversized hoodie which reminds you of your boyfriend because there's literally the number 81 on the back, or also those cute pastries you always talk about how good they look.

but you know you'll never buy these things, maybe later in months but they're just too expensive for you. you can afford them but you can't all buy them in one seat, you also need to save money because you share your apartment's spending with oscar. you agreed at the start of your relationship that both of you will take part in renting, shopping and getting all the stuff and furniture you need to live together.

and your job pays you very much less than oscar's job so obviously you don't have the same income and money to spend it on extra expensive things you like. but it's okay, you actually like earning money little by little and when you finally have the good amount of money you're always happy to buy these little gifts you dreamed about.

now you are sitting comfortably on the couch, your laptop on your laps. your favorite playlist is playing on the loudspeaker in a low volume and you just have finished a schedule for your next week of work. "are you okay love ? do you want something to drink ? or a snack ?"

your boyfriend's voice comes from behind you, where the kitchen is. you turn your head and smile to him "a glass of water then please" you gently ask "no problem" he replies and opens one of the kitchen closet to grab a glass. you move again to go back to your laptop, and while you delete open pages on google, there's your shopping cart that appears. you forget to delete it last time.

you hesitate to delete the page, but your eyes gaze at the pretty things you put in your cart. you really want these cute shoes and this hoodie for a while now, and you'll be lying if you said you didn't dream about them everyday. you're so envious of those people who own them, sometimes you bump into some girls who are wearing them and it makes you even more excited about getting the shoes and the hoodie.

oscar soundlessly comes behind you, a tray with your glass of water and some fruits on it. just for you, because he's simply the most caring and sweet boyfriend you ever had. he approaches you in silence and you don't hear his steps, too occupied by the clothes on your laptop screen. but obviously he notices that you are once again staring at the same shopping cart. the same one as months ago.

he knows how much you want these items. maybe you're a bit desperate now and oscar doesn't like that. if you really want something then you'll have it. he likes to spoil you. he likes to buy you things because it makes you happy and he just needs to see your smile. but you're aware of the importance of money.

money is something very important for you and you know its value. so despite the fact you like receiving gifts, when oscar would spoil you too much with so many expensive things you can't help but get a bit angry. because you don't want him to spend all his salary for you. you're actually very reasonable and rational. you're humble and expensive gifts are like very precious to you because you value things

and oscar loves you for that. he thinks you're just so respectful and you never ask for anything, he don't even think you ever ask him to buy you something over your relationship. you always try to afford things by yourself and your hard work. and your boyfriend admire this. so when people or his "fans" would call you a scrounger, a girl who is here just for oscar's money, he get so annoyed. because if there's one person who doesn't count and don't care on his money at all, it's you.

he sighs and sit down next to you. "here's your water, princess" he says and he hands you the glass. you quickly change the shopping page to an other one with a youtube video, you panicked a bit because you don't want oscar to see you looking at these things. because you know he'll tell you that he can buy you it, and you always end up by scolding him gently, saying that if he dares do it you'll be mad for weeks.

"thanks love" you smile and take a sip of your water. he wraps one of his arms around your shoulders and pull you closer to him. "you finished your work ?" he asks against your hair, planting a soft kiss on it. "yes, i can finally take a break" you nod. "good then. i can have your attention" he hums and he's quick to move your laptop from your laps to place it on the table.

"cuddle me for a while" he says and he lay down on the couch. he makes you shift and you lay down too, your head on his chest and your legs crossed together. he wraps his arms around your back, rubbing it softly. "you work hard y/n. i'm so proud of my pretty girl" he smiles wide as his looks fall on you. you giggle and he can feel your laugh vibrates against his body, making him smile even wider. "i know. i'm such an amazing woman" you state with a tone of irony. "of course you are babe" he genuine knows it, he's proud to be boyfriend.

he starts placing lazy kisses on your head, sometimes on the back of your hand, still stroking your back. he run his hand under your hoodie, and his fingers rubs your soft skin softly, like you're a piece of porcelain. he's just too caring and he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. but his soft touch makes you feel sleepy, and it doesn't take too long before you start to sleep.

he notices it because your breathing is slower and more regular. he places an other kiss on your hair. his eyes shift to your laptop screen. there are still your google searches on it, and he can't help himself but stretches his arm to move the touch mouse. he clicks on the page of your shopping cart, and knows he has a good look of the products you genuinely want.

he grabs his phone out of his pocket and he quickly takes a picture of the screen. he smiles to himself, proud of what he's going to do later this evening. now he knows what he needs to do.

-

"and i'll take the strawberry one too please" oscar says as he waits for the seller to wrap the ten pastries he just finished to order. the seller hands him the little red box with the white ribbon around it. the blonde grabs his credit card and pays without looking at the price. he's not even bothered, because a silly smile is playing on his lips.

he bought you these pastries which you talk about every time you found a tiktok about it, rambling about how sweet and delicious they look, and oscar was listening to you. he finally bought plenty of them today for you, ten pastries to be sure you'll have enough. and if not then he'll go back again at the bakery to buy more. until you're satisfied.

now he's going back home, already excited to see you and your expression when you'll discover all the things he bought today. he told you earlier that he needs to get some groceries, which was a lie because he used this time to purchase all the stuff you so want. he literally went to all the different stores of the mall : perfumery, bakery, jewelry store, plushies store and more.

he knows he has spent a huge amount of money just for you but he absolutely doesn't care at all. you're his princess and you must receive princess treatment. so that's why he bought this cute plushie you genuinely adore, and also your favorite set of perfumes even though you already have an extra double at home. buying you jewelry was inevitable, he chose two bracelets and two necklaces, also several pairs of earrings. and the cherry on top is the matching bracelet he carefully chose for you and him.

but nevertheless he got some groceries, most of them just being your favorite food and snacks. he totally spent a lot of money, he may not even have a penny left in his bank account but it's absolutely fine, as long as it's for you he doesn't pay attention to it. he's simply happy to treat you well. to treat you like you deserve it.

he parks his car and run to the door. he's carrying all the gifts and bags in his hands. he's completely full. he rings the doorbell and seconds later he's meeting with your pretty face. "i'm back" he simply says and you let him go into the house.

first you didn't notice all the bags he was carrying, because there are two packages which were delivered during oscar's absence and which are lying around the door. you are sure you didn't ordered anything, and oscar didn't tell you either that he ordered something so why these two packages are lying on the floor ?

"oscar, what are these packages ? i didn't ordered anything and you didn't too" you start and frown looking at the boxes. your boyfriend take off his shoes and he was going to speak when you finally notice all the bags in his hands. "and why are you carrying so many bags? there are around ten of them !" you say shocked, your eyes dart out.

he only smiles to you and hands you all the bags "surprise princess ! the packages are for you and these bags too". you don't realize, you just blink. is this real ? you look at him completely lost and he laughs seeing your confused expression. "you ordered the packages ? you really bought me all of these gifts ?" you ask still not realizing what he did.

your boyfriend nods rapidly like a child, a wide smile stuck on his face. "i wanted to please you because you deserve it love" he replies. "but oscar..." you start and he knows you're going to get mad at him because maybe he did too much. but he doesn't want to hear that so he doesn't wait and guides you to the couch. he makes you sit on it and he brings all the gifts around you. "now open them. it's all for you".

you sigh and look him in the eyes. "baby i appreciate it but do you realize you bought too much ? like it's an incredible amount of things" "of course i am aware of it and i don't care at all." he shrug and sit down next to you. you look like you're going to refuse all the presents and oscar doesn't want that. he places a kiss on your cheek and put one the package on your laps. "open now. i know you'll thanks me later for that"

you can't do anything but open all the boxes and bags in front of you. you cut the cardboard and open it. the beautiful pair of shoes you so wanted is meticulously wrap in the box. you don't realize. you're clearly shocked. you pick up them carefully and admire them. they're so pretty. and oscar knows he wins everything when a big smile come up on your face. "i don't even know what to say. i wanted them for so long. they're so pretty oscar"

"they'll look perfect on you" he states and a second later he feels your lips on his cheek. he giggles at the sudden touch "next gift baby !!" he says and either him can't hide his excitement. you can't help it too, you forgot for a while your dissatisfaction towards him because you're like a kid at christmas in front of all of the gifts. you open the second package and your look fall on the white and orange hoodie which reminds you of oscar.

it looks perfect. perfect like your boyfriend. the hoodie is clearly making you smile wider, though you were already getting cheek cramps. "how it looks ?" he asks in a nervous tone. "just incredibly beautiful and perfect" you says as you touch the soft fabric. "good. but we are not done. they're still the bags here" he points out the remaining bags on the floor.

and you open them all. the perfumes, the jewelry, the plushie, the snacks and even the pastries. you don't know how much they all cost but you're sure it's very very expensive. but you can't hide your happiness, you're so grateful for that. all the gifts are just more than enough. and your dissatisfaction turned into thankfulness.

all of these gifts, the way he bought you everything you wanted because he wanted to please you, all of that makes you emotional. and you can't help but let some tears fall down on your face. oscar notices it and he starts to panic. "wait- are you okay love ?" he asks cautiously. you wipe a tear and nod to reassure him. "yes don't worry i'm okay. it's just... it's just..."

you let a sob and he can't take it anymore. he pulls you into his arms, pressing soft kisses on your face. "tell me y/n" he says softly. he don't want to push you, just so caring. "it's just that i don't want you to spend all your money and buy extra expensive things to me. i'm okay with what i already have, i don't care if i can't afford what i want. i just don't want you to waste all your money only for me"

oscar smiles softly and pulls you closer. oh how his heart pang from love. from affection and adoration. he's so in love with you. he rubs your cheek with his thumb and place a soft kiss on your lips. "but you know that i don't care princess. i want the best for you and i want to treat you well like how you deserve to be treated. i like to spoil you. i like to buy you gifts" he explains to you. "but you're already my best gift oscar"

his brain stopped to work just as his heart skipped a beat. he can't hide his smile. "and you are too. that's why i genuinely want to pleasure you, because you're a princess that deserves all the love in the world. money doesn't matter. i know you don't like that but i'll never stop myself to spend money for you. you are the only person I would do anything for and all you have to do is ask me what you need, i'll give it to you right away"

you let another snob out of your mouth. the boy starts to peck all your face. "i don't deserve you oscar. i'm so lucky to have you." "no, i'm the lucky one. i don't even know how i managed to pull someone like you" he laughs and you giggle. "i love you oscar. so much"

he smiles and leans in to kiss you tenderly. his lips move perfectly on yours. he pulls back and look at you with heart eyes. "i love you too my girl". you hide your face in the crook of his neck and you stay like that for a while. until he gets up. "now i'm gonna make some coffee for you to drink with the pastries"

and he'll put on the table a tray of pastries, a cup of hot coffee next to them. you'll share the strawberry cake with your boyfriend, and you'll remains him of how perfect he is. because after all he's clearly the best boyfriend in the world...

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri fanfic #op81 x reader #op81 x you

[steddieas-shegoes]

wasting company time

for @corrodedcoffinfest warm up round prompt 'get a job'

rated t | 736 words | no cw | tags: they're idiots and i love them, especially gareth, he is my most special boy

🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸🎸

If Gareth had to help one more person today, he was going to quit his job.

Which he couldn't. He was the only one in the band who currently had an income.

Eddie had been fired for missing too many shifts because of shows, Jeff was too busy with classes to also have a job, and Frankie was waiting for the right thing to come up. Gareth sucked it up and worked nearly full time at the diner.

He couldn't cook for shit so he was a waiter, and being a waiter was not his ideal position. The waitresses he worked with wore short skirts and flirted their way to decent tips. That didn't exactly work for Gareth, who worked the shift when mostly truck drivers came through with exhaustion seeping from their pores and gruff voices barely even placing an order before ignoring him.

The bell rang above the door and Gareth groaned.

"Have a seat anywhere!" He said from behind the counter, taking an extra minute to gather himself before having to help.

"Nah, you're gonna come with us."

Gareth looked up to see Jeff, Eddie, and Frankie standing at the counter, grinning from ear to ear.

"I'm clearly working. I don't get off for another hour."

"You don't need to work anymore."

Gareth was not gonna get his hopes up. They may be smiling and encouraging him to leave his job, but they all were irresponsible sometimes, even Jeff.

"Did you all get jobs?"

"We all have a gig. A decent one. One that pays," Frankie leaned against the counter. "One that requires us going on a little tour."

"You're telling me we have nothing for two years and suddenly we have a tour? With who? Where?" Gareth folded his arms across his chest, frowning. They were fucking with him.

"We didn't have nothing for two years, we had shitty gigs. Everyone starts with shitty gigs," Eddie argues. "And one of those shitty gigs had someone who works with a metal band who's going on tour in a month. They opened for Sabbath on their last tour. We're so fucking in, baby."

Gareth still couldn't believe it.

How did they land that? How did anyone see their Hideout show and think 'yeah, those are the guys we need'?

"I don't understand."

"Take off the apron, even though it's doing wonders for your hips," Eddie wiggled his brows playfully. "And come to the trailer. I've got everything there for us to look at with a lawyer."

"A lawyer? We can't afford a lawyer."

"Correct. But Steve said Nancy could take a look at it and make sure the language isn't trying to fuck us over," Eddie poked Gareth's cheek. "Jeff's mom said her brother could look at it, too, but he technically is an insurance lawyer so it may go over his head."

"Nancy Wheeler is gonna read a contract to make sure we don't sign our lives away?"

"Precisely," Frankie nodded.

"Anyone better for the job?" Jeff asked.

He had a ridiculous crush on Nancy, so of course he would think she could do it easily.

"A real lawyer maybe? Someone who is used to reading contracts?" Gareth was not quitting his job for this.

"Okay, well, do you have real lawyer money hiding somewhere in that apron?" Eddie threw his hands up.

"What's your obsession with this apron?" Gareth teased. "I just don't wanna end up jobless and then not even have this gig to fall back on."

"It's your damn hips! I said!" Eddie rolled his eyes. "If I promise to find a lawyer, will you please quit this stupid job?"

"If you can find a lawyer willing to work for free to look at that contract, I will quit this job and give you my last paycheck."

"Deal!" Eddie ran from the diner immediately, leaving Jeff and Frankie shaking their heads.

"He's never gonna find one," Jeff said.

"I know. I'll see you guys in the morning for practice."

Frankie waved and walked back out the door, but Jeff stayed for a moment.

"Hey, I know you're being cautious. But also, I think this would be good for us. We should probably give it a go."

Gareth looked behind him at the line cook shoving a french fry into his mouth, then at the one guy asleep at a table in the corner.

"Yeah, alright. Let's give it a try."

#corrodedcoffinfest #corroded coffin #eddie munson #jeff stranger things #gareth stranger things #freak stranger things #except he is frankie TO ME #stranger things

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for filming parts of concerts? I love going to see live music whenever I can, and before recently, I was very much of the opinion that there was no point in filming the songs you're listening to because they wont be worth listening back to anyway bc the quality will be so bad, so you're just wasting your time not enjoying the music when thats what you paid so much money to go there to do! But now I have a better phone that actually does manage to capture the moment pretty well, I really like recording sections of songs to listen and watch back later on. I post them on my private instagram, but they are really just for me. It's really nice to be able to go back and not just remember that moment that you were there better, but also feel the energy of the crowd and stuff like that and relive it just for a moment, and any time I haven't captured part of a concert I've been to I've regretted it later on.

Thing is, I also agree that there is literally nothing worse than standing in a crowd and not even being able to see the damn stage because all you can see is phone screens! It's really disruptive and takes you out of the experience. So I try and strike a healthy balance with it. I only record like, one chorus, maybe at /most/ a minute of the song (but even then I feel cheeky), and I do not do it for every song, like maybe 3/4 out of the set list, just my favourites or the most popular ones. I dont want to be standing there recording the whole song anyway, I have moshing and jumping and ugly scream singing to be done that can't be done when I'm recording.

But I do wonder if even recording this much makes me a horrible hypocrite and an asshole full stop. Like I said, those people who stand there recording the whole concert start to finish literally make me want to tear my eyes out (i've stood behind people like this before and spent the whole concert trying to dodge around their phone screen). The last concert I went to, I was recording the opening section (along w/ many many others) and some guy behind me screamed at everyone to put down their phones and I had a bit of a come to jesus moment bc I'd literally done /exactly that/ a few concerts ago and it made me wonder. Honestly even if I am an asshole for this, I probably wont stop :') . But I at least will accept that I am a little bit of the very person I hate. So is life.

So AITA for recording small parts of concerts to watch back later on?

#aita #am i the asshole

[soothinglee]

even if my heart stops beating⏤✰

seungmin x reader | 1.6k✔︎

my notes⎯ hello everyone ! I know it's been a while since I've actually wrote something ! I actually got hit by a bus! yeah I had to sue this company called "writers block" and I finally got a settlement! (also happy new year!) I recently (like a week ago) got into Kpop, specifically Stray Kids ! I've read some fan fictions (shameless) about some of my favorites and got inspo to write one! thank you @soobnny . also I haven't wrote anything in a while so i'm a little rusty, i'll be as good as new soon!

warning⎯ mentions of vomit (used as word vomit) and crying.

genre⎯ angst to comfort.✔︎

songs⎯ six feet under; billie eilish | pretty boy; the neighborhood

the old rusted clock that came with the condo you and seungmin bought sits perched on the top of the fridge. Its old, wooden frame slowly caves in on itself as time goes on.

not even an hour or two ago you had happily entered your home to start cooking dinner, not even worrying about showering first because you were so excited to have dinner with your boyfriend.

even going out of your way to spend a hundred dollars over the amount you usually spend to give seungmin the greatest 'welcome home' feast. he and the rest of stray kids had been on tour for the last couple months, traveling all over the world to perform at concerts and do collaborations with other idols to promote their new albums.

sure, it had been lonely, being by yourself all of the time, the only glimpse of your boyfriend you could get is when he could facetime you for 2 minutes or when he responded back to a text 4 hours later. but you understood, you knew what you were getting yourself into even when you started becoming friends with him.

if anything, you were strong, understanding, and flexible to when he couldn't make it to something like a movie night or date when his plane arrives later or practice runs over.

the only thing now, is that he had promised you that he could make it on time to dinner. sending countless 'I swear ill be there' texts and swift calls ensuring his presences at the dinner table during his dance rehearsals.

but now you were sitting at the table alone. a cold jajangmyeon sits in the platter in front of you, a similar on across the table from you. looking up at that old clock the hour turns to 10 and he's officially 2 hours late. it wasn't unknown for him to run a little over his time but this was unbelievable. you curse yourself for being naive and truly thinking he would keep to his word.

as you get up and clean the meal that you created you feel a little piece inside of you break, watching your hard work spill into the leftover containers like your tears. this was embarrassing, waiting around like a puppy in hopes your owner comes home. you were loyal and hopeful to a fault but wasting time and money like this was just unacceptable.

by the time seungmin walked through the front door it was half pass midnight and you had situated yourself infront of the t.v watching a new drama a colleague from work recommended.

"(name)." he calls out, you hear his shoes hit the wall as he takes them off, and then theres a shuffle as he organizes them on the shoe rack. you hear him leave his keys in the bowl on the desk that was by the front door, his footsteps growing louder as he nears the living room.

"(name)." he calls out again, seeing you lay in a cocoon of blankets in the dark, he think maybe you're sleeping so he quietly discards his winter coat on the back of the couch. he flicks on the lamp on the other side of the couch to bring in some light. though when he comes around to sit down he finds your eyes wide open, "why didn't you answer me when I called?"

"why didn't you come on time like you promised?" you quipped back quietly, suddenly too exhausted to have any conversation with him. you try and sink further into the thick blanket as you watch the Netflix symbol load and the next episodes intro plays.

you can't see his face but when he sighs and shifts in his spot you can hear the hesitance, "you already know why, practice ran late, like always."

"whatever."

"'whatever?' what's going on with you?"

"nothing." your tone is snipped but honestly you couldn't care less. somewhere in your soul you feel as though this might be a little extreme of an reaction but there is only so much patience you can give one person. you constantly make time for him and this relationship, so why couldn't he move things around and do the same for you? your eyes remain on the television.

seungmins eyes dart quickly to the t.v and then back to you, noticing that your full attention isn't on him, so he leans over you and goes to grab the remote from your hands. at the sudden loss of contact you make a move to try and get the remote back from him but he effectively powers down the t.v and discards in on the coffee table.

"I'll only repeat myself so many times, what's going on?"

it was like a newfound energy fizzled at your toes and pushed itself up and towards your head, your body springs up from its sideways position and you angle yourself to face seungmin.

though the light was somewhat dim due to only the lamp being on, he could see the red-rim of your eyes and the dried streaks of tears sticking to your cheeks. obviously, it had been evident that you had been crying.

seungmins eyes soften for a moment, he reaches out to try and smooth out the puffiness of your cheeks but as soon as you see his hand coming you push it away, "you were crying?" it comes out more of a statement than a concerned question, but the worry was still evident in his tone.

"duh," you start, suddenly feeling uncomfortable in the tense space, you find comfort in the carpet on the ground. you were feeling...nervous. you didn't want to cause anymore problems but things won't get solved unless they are discussed, which in all honesty, the thought of confrontation in the first place is feared.

you need to get it out, you can't stop living like this. deep down you know he cares but you have to stop going off of assumptions. either he's going to show up or not, it was clear already that you showed up no matter how busy you were.

"do you even still love me?"

the question tumbles from your lips before you could even process what you were saying. maybe it wasn't what you wanted to convey exactly but it was definitely a start.

"what?" his airy voice sounds dumbfounded which makes sense. the intense look you're giving him plus the profound, out-of-the-blue question throws him off guard.

of course he loves you, why would you ever think anything different? "where is this coming from?"

"well it's just that every time we have something planned your work gets in the way. I spend hours and hours getting ready, trying to look my best, just to waste the day sitting on the couch waiting for you to come home. sometimes I'm waiting so long I fall asleep! I put so much effort into being a good girlfriend! hell, I even spent over 100 dollars on dinner tonight because I knew you had a hectic day, it took me two hours to make it just for it to go cold and put into a container,"

your voice chokes up, full of exhaustion and disappointment. you feel the tears pooling in your eyes but have no energy to stop them. you really want to quit the word vomit but there's no point, theres more to be said.

"I try so hard to not get disheartened but it gets so hard when you don't even try. sometimes I feel like you don't even care about this relationship anymore, like you don't care about m-"

just as you were about to finish your words were muffled by hands on your face, and lips on yours. seungmin had kissed you to stop your rambling. you couldn't help but to feel relieved and somewhat offended.

"stop." he whispers as he takes a breath, his hands still on your face, foreheads connecting, "please stop." his voice crack under pressure, its subtle but at the lack of distance between you two you can hear it so well. your eyes are closed, trying to get your own tears at bay but hearing how emotional he's becoming breaks you. a sob teeters at your bottom lip but you force it still.

"don't you ever think that I don't care. I always have." he pauses and wipes the stray tears on your face with his thumbs, "I'm so sorry I've made you feel like this. god I'm such a bad boyfriend, this is my fault."

you try to move away to comfort him but he holds you in place gently, you sniffle and reach up to brush the bangs from his face.

"I promise you I'll be more attentive, ill take you out everyday, spend as much time with you, cook for you, miss practices all the time just to make sure you know I care about you."

"you promised earlier but you didn't come!" you cry, recounting how long you waited.

"I know!" his voice quivers as his hands tremble, lightly shaking your head, "I know...and i'll never forgive myself. you don't know how much you've shaped me into the person I am now and I- I have no clue what I would do without you. I just have a poor way of showing it."

you grip on his wrists, mimicking him with your eyes squeezed shut, you stopped trying to keep the tears in awhile ago, letting them fall freely into your covered lap. "how do I know I can trust you? I'm so sick of feeling like this."

"I promise you I will prioritize you more than anything, Idol life, dancing, singing- whatever, does not come before you. I won't leave you hanging like this anymore, i'm sorry I didn't pay more close attention to your feelings," his bottom lips shakes as he takes another deep breath, he opens his eyes and you can see pass the tears and sorrow a new found determination.

"even if my heart stops beating, you're the only one I need."

past your wary judgement...you believe him...

#seungmin x reader #x reader #seungmin fluff #seungmin x y/n #seungmin x you #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz fluff #soothinglee #seungmin angst #kim seungmin #skz x you #skz x y/n #idol au #established relationship

[ordinaryschmuck]

I have plans for a web comic. Your standard, superhero comic, written and illustrated by me and likely ONLY by me. A comic that has this premise:

"When some of the world's mightiest heroes are discovered to be dead, with more villains growing and super killers out in the world, it's up for humanity's last hope to band together as a single team for justice. Unfortunately, humanity's last hope includes a narcissist, a coward, an idiot keeps losing fights, a homeless person who wants a normal life, a super genius that's thirteen-year-old, a shape-shifting pacifist, and a recovering drunk leading them all. Will they be able to save the world? Well...They'll certainly try."

It'll have lots of stuff that makes superheroes fun. Action, comedy, heroes being human, struggling to do good for both the world and for the people in their lives, tragic backstories that show why the heroes make sure no one has as bad of a day as they did, SELECTIVE intense violence, heroes advocating for redemption over final acts of violence, and some gay characters...Alright, that last one's more or less implied in most superhero content, but why not include here, right?

I love this idea, these characters, and all the plans I have for them. The problem? On the internet, it's a shot in the dark if whether or not what you make is popular. And I don't know if my heart can take it if the first few pages of my comic go up, and only ten people see it with two of them liking it. I can't take it anymore. I've tried three times to make a webcomic, really trying to make something good and pouring everything I have into each one, only for my work to go unnoticed and unappreciated.

"Maybe they're not good."

Yeah. Maybe. Maybe my writing's not good enough to stand out. Maybe my art-style isn't appealing enough to some people. Maybe my jokes aren't funny enough. Maybe my ideas aren't interesting enough. Maybe my story's aren't profound enough. Maybe...I'M not good enough.

...But at least maybe it'll be worth another shot. Who knows, this will finally be the one to worth trying and get a lot of attention. At least, worth trying for a year and see how big the numbers are. But here's the thing: I want to make sure first. I want to know, going in, that I'll have enough people supporting me.

So, here's what I want: 1,000 notes. I don't want money, I don't want donations, I want 1,000 notes on THIS POST to tell me that my creative mind is worth creating again. If I get 1,000 notes, at any point throughout...let's say the rest of the year, then I'll do it.

I'll make another webcomic. And hopefully don't waste my life doing it.

#web comics #original webcomic #webcomic #superheroes #original superhero

[silver-itallics]

Last Light

Warnings: canon typical violence, heavy angst, hurt no comfort, you guys will be mad at me

a/n: I was thinking about when Leigh mentioned in the saw commentary that someone wrote a monologue from Lawrence's point of view after leaving the bathroom and I wanted to write one for Adam

"I'm a liar?"

"I wouldn't lie to you."

Liar, lies. Seems like either way, Adam is getting screwed over.

He sits in the dark, dingy bathroom, his eyes still struggling to adjust. His throat is raw and aching from all the screaming and crying. Not even the hardest sex could have done that to him.

God, he's really gonna die having fucked one person.

All of his relationships were mediocre, even the platonic ones. Scott treated him like shit, the guy probably hasn't even noticed that he's gone.

Has anyone?

Lawrence is someone that would be noticed, he's got a wife and kids for fucks sake.

"I've got a family too, Lawrence! I don't talk to them anymore, that's my mistake. A mistake I'd like to fix."

One of the last things he remembers at the apartment is scribbling "Call mom?" On a crumpled post it and sticking it to the wall. The paper has probably fallen down by now. Forgotten.

Are his parents even looking for him?

Probably not. They probably haven't noticed either.

Everything that Adam does ends up screwing him in the end, just like this. But he can't really blame anyone but himself, can he? Not even $200 was worth being stuck in this bathroom. Doesn't even soften the fact that he'll probably be here forever.

The money was meant to go for his food. Not a camera, not developing fluid, not even that shiny new pokemon game Adam wanted. Food.

A necessity he barely even had.

"Why? Call it my need to eat."

He remembers snapping at Lawrence like it was the most obvious answer. But food is a luxury even Adam can't afford. The guy lives off of ramen noodles and sodas from the gas station. Sometimes he even wonders why he never gained any weight since he ate such shit.

His mom was never the greatest cook, but he'd take soggy meatloaf and unseasoned mashed potatoes any day.

At the thought, Adam's stomach rumbles. His guts ache from hunger, but he's not a stranger to it. That's usually how his day goes.

He can't even blame Jigsaw for trapping him here. But in all honesty, Adam has done so much self sabotaging, that he's probably done worse to himself than the man that left him here.

He's felt worse betrayal than when the dead man stood up, peeled the fake skin off his skull and left him here.

"Game over!"

Dead man. Adam squints in the darkness, trying to make out Zep's corpse. He's not even sure why. The first time he saw a dead body, or what he thought was one, he puked his guts out into the tub. Couldn't even keep down his latest meal.

He'll probably starve even quicker now.

The room smells like blood, and his fingers are sticky from the same substance. Not only is he a voyeur, he's a killer. Maybe his last girlfriend was right: he's too angry.

Adam isn't very good at anatomy, at least the human side of it. But he knows he broke through layers of skin and bone when he'd crushed through the hospital orderly's skull.

"It's the rules!"

Knowing now, he feels guilty. Awful, even. Guy probably had a family too, even if he was a bit of a creep. Where do you draw the line of deserving a family? What's so bad that you no longer are worthy of someone related by blood? Adam's probably the worst person to ask that.

He'd stormed out on his parents after a petty argument, an excuse to leave. One that he'd been wanting to have since he was seventeen. Somehow, he'd convinced himself that they wouldn't accept him, even if they let him drop out of high school and didn't even call the cops when he left. But was that tolerance or pure disinterest?

Maybe he's not a total waste of time, since his mom had called not long before he got his power knocked out the same way he was.

"Adam, your father's not angry anymore."

Lawrence had a home, a family. A good one, too. The pictures he saw of Diana and Alison made him crack a smile. At least before the one with them tied up. He shivers, probably both from disgust and blood loss.

His shoulder aches, oozing blood all over his shitty thrift store clothes. Adam understands why Doctor Gordon left. He has some place to go, people to welcome him home with open arms. Most places Adam went, he wasn't even noticed.

He kicks with his right foot in anger, the chain rattling as he does. The metal bites into his skin and the amount of pain he's in is just frustrating at this point. Adam screams, but his voice is raw and broken.

As much as he hopes the doctor will come back for him, at least he has half the brain to know that Lawrence probably won't make it. The man that he's had the first physical touch from in months is probably bleeding out in the sewers, and there's nothing he can do about it.

He doesn't even have a choice to cut off his foot like the doctor did. Sure, the blood loss will probably kill him, but Adam is sick of waiting around for something to happen. A job to drop, a phone call.

But he can't even do that.

The hacksaw he found in the toilet had snapped in half. A result of his ever consuming anger. Seems like everything he does leads back to that.

"I see a strange mix of someone who's angry, yet apathetic. But mostly just pathetic."

If Adam isn't angry at the world, he's angry with himself. He feels like a waste of space on the good days and a tumor on the face of the earth on the bad ones. At least with photography he felt like he had a purpose, even if it was supplying creeps and weirdos with material. He wasn't really helping anyone, was he? Even Tapp ended up dead.

But Lawrence helps people. Even if he thought the guy was initially a jerk, Adam admires him. Misses the man's blood stained hands as he cupped his cheeks.

"I wanted to be a vet."

That way, he'd benefit the world somehow. Even if he was pulling tennis balls out of dogs' throats or cleaning up puke every day. He'd much rather smell vomit, as he's getting quite sick of the coppery scent of blood.

"That's nonsense. I've seen kids with brain cancer graduate high school from a hospital bed."

"They got further than I ever did."

Adam has been pretty able bodied his whole life. While he'd consider it a nuisance that his body doesn't match up with his own view of himself, that's not a disability.

Maybe his parents wouldn't even mind, maybe they'd help him with the cost of surgery and injections. But he hadn't even told them. His parents barely know who he is. Adam barely knows himself.

"What do voyeurs see when they look in the mirror?"

Nothing. The answer is nothing.

He's like a leech, sucking the energy and luck out of everyone around him.

Now he's left to sit in his own grave- metaphorically and literally. He probably won't even have the luxury of being buried or cremated.

Hopefully someone will come around and put him out of his misery. Like a calf with two heads or a dog with rabies.

But until then, he's left to wait.

#adam faulkner stanheight #adam stanheight #chainshipping #saw 2004 #sawposting #angst #saw #writing #leigh whannell

[avonne-writes]

Pet peeves

I posted a question about Buck and Bucky’s pet peeves a few days ago and I received a lot of great responses! Thank you guys! I will compile them in this post instead of replying individually.

bucky def hates being micromanaged and passive aggressive people

Hahaha, very true, especially the micromanagement. He doesn’t like unreasonably tight reins.

another common pet peeve is when ppl talk over u/ interrupt OR talk down to u. i could see bucky having a pet peeve of ppl talking down to him but not really interrupting. however can we say that those two r his biggest pet peeves when directed towards buck… (i cannot separate these two in my head)

Bucky wouldn’t be able to stand that, for sure! I like how you extended it to him having the same pet peeves about people doing that to Buck. I can see him being really irritated with that.

i think buck might have a pet peeve of chewing too loud.

Maybe if it's too loud, but I’m not sure about this because he's the one who always has something in his mouth 😁

i could see bucky having a pet peeve with slow drivers and know it alls.

Oh, the faces he’d make if he was stuck behind a slow driver 😆 The best would be if they were stuck while it was Gale driving - Gale would be all calm and collected while Bucky would be rolling his eyes and huffing in the passenger seat.

Mm pet peeve - Bucky is more than fine with physical touches, but only if he initiates it. He actually do like his personal space, but it's something that he prefers to invite people into rather than have them just come in. Remember that one scene when Croz was pointing out the general direction of Scotland in ep2, and Bucky (hilariously) pushed Croz's finger from his face with a cute little disgruntled look on his face? Cutest thing!

I remember that moment, it was so funny! I think it was because of the vomit, but I like this idea, would be interesting to explore. Actually, if we think about it, when was Bucky touched in the show without him or Buck initiating it first?

They both can't stand wasting anything. Be it food, clothes or anything materialistic. They rather eat leftovers for three days then throw it in the bin. Wear their clothes until they can't be repaired anymore. (Not because they have no money but because they're frugal af) This would be so for the rest of their lives.

I think this is a good one because imagine wasting food after their experiences in the stalag. I agree that they'd try to eat everything. They're not picky anyway. I do think they like nice clothes though, they were always so stylish 😄

Gale's very specific about the way things are done. He's very OCD, has lists for everything. He can't stand to be disrupted if he's in the middle of solving a problem.

Omg yeah, disrupting Gale while he’s solving a problem is a no-no. He shoots the other person these looks that could kill - doesn’t even need to say anything, people just scamper away.

And OCD Buck has just come up recently - it could be an interesting take on him! And also how others try to accommodate it, especially John, who's the furthest thing from OCD.

John is a nurturer and loves to give presents (but always things that are needed, never just fun things because that seems wasteful) so he gets a bit standoffish when people take this for granted and NEVER give back.

Aww, yes, poor John! He's such a giver. Giving back doesn’t even have to be a present, it's enough for him to feel the other's happiness and love. It would hurt him so bad if someone just discarded his present.

Thank you so much for these, lovely anons and @getinthefuckingjaeger!

#mota #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #pet peeve headcanons #anon

[kassymalone]

A Little Rant about Fun

Remember fun?

Remember when you could do things just because they were fun?

It keeps coming to mind recently, and it's starting to drive me nuts.

I've always done things with my hands - I used to do art before uni destroyed my love and confidence, I write things, I cross stitch, I make models, and I do these things because I enjoy them. Unfortunately I've come to hate talking to people about my hobbies because the almost always have the same response - 'what do you do with that?'

Do I sell on Etsy? No I fucking don't, this pattern took me 15 hours to finish, do you know how much I would have to charge for it?

Do I do freelance writing? No I fucking don't, why would I want a second soul-crushing job on top of my first soul-crushing job?

Why don't I actually get published instead of wasting my time with fanfiction so I can actually make some money off it? WHY DON'T YOU DO IT IF ITS SO FUCKING EASY

I've been thinking of making a quilt recently, with patches of all my favourite things, but I don't want to talk to anyone about it because I can already hear them asking 'and what are you going to do with it? Is this your practice one before you sell them? No, don't do it that way, that's the wrong way, no-one will like it!'

(Don't get me started on the 'you're doing it wrong' crowd, gatekeepers are a different rant.)

JUST LET ME DO THINGS. NOT EVERYTHING NEEDS TO MAKE MONEY. I know we're in a cost of living crisis right now, but I've been hearing this shit since I was a teenager, twenty fucking years ago! I still remember being talked out of singing lessons when I had a little extra money because 'what would I do with it?' Well fuck, my fat ass was never going to be the next Adele, but maybe I could have just had fun doing something I enjoy, but better?!

ON A RELATED NOTE!

You know what disproportionately annoys me? When people call the Nintendo Switch a 'toy' as if it's a bad thing. Like... yes? It's a toy? I play games on it?

'But the frame rate!', 'But the graphics!', 'But it can't run XX game!' WHO FUCKING CARES.

Yes, the xbox and playstation can connect to netflix and play blue rays and cook you dinner and raise your children, but they also cost a months rent and have all these bells and whistles to distract you from the fact that they JUST FUCKING TOYS. There's nothing either of them can do that I can't do on my PC, better and cheaper, and not have to turn on five different peripherals to make it work.

'But 4K!', 'But you can see the character follicles in this new game!', 'But the horses testicles react to the weather!'

Are you not having fun? Are you not enjoying playing your game? Never once have I been in the middle of a game and thought 'I'd be enjoying this more if it had more pixels.' I'm not even against other consoles, use whatever you prefer - if you like modern real-to life graphics then more power to you, but the amount of people who act like it actually matters somehow is concerning...

Yes, the switch hardware is behind what the xbox and playstation can do... but its a toy. Nintendo has never forgotten that it makes toys, and that's why I like it. It sits on my table, connects to my other monitor. I listen to long form youtube videos while I play TOTK. If I'm feeling sassy, I play it handheld.

My niece has one. We play Pokémon together and I let her win battles because the point is to be fun.

WHICH BRINGS ME BACK TO MY POINT!

FUCK the grindset 'but how can I monetise every possible second?' bullshit, FUCK the 'taking this thing that should be fun way too seriously' bullshit.

LET PEOPLE DO THINGS JUST BECUASE THEY'RE FUN.

LET THINGS THAT ARE SUPPOSED TO BE FUN BE FUN.

And now I've used the word 'fun' so much it's lost all meaning.

Much like fun itself.

[solitary-cutie]

Darkness to our light. Part II

Part I

Part III

Part IV

prompt: you and coriolanus are married, it's unbearable for you, but it will all end soon

contains: dark, manipulative, controlling coriolanus. fem!reader.

And so you are sitting in the living room waiting for the only person ypu could talk to - the piano teacher. Sharing with desire to continue your once neglected studies, Coryo did not fail to fulfill whim of his better half and help Her. He would always help, even without asking. No matter if you needed this intervention. He would spend all the money on your wants without even mentioning it, as if forgetting, deliberately ignoring any checks in the stores, but you clearly knew that this wastefulness was another yoke around your neck, because one should be grateful. Especially if the checks came in the mail, and the history of purchases served him in calculating the spending for the month.

“Hello. Hey, you guys quiet today? Helpers’s a bit tense today. Not even tea! Can you believe it? Didn't offer! - The teacher laughed, putting out a folder with notes, a pencil, an eraser and an orange leather notebook from her bag on the snow-white piano.”

“Oh yes, He's planning a dinner party, everyone's getting ready. He's inviting coworkers, his sister. He's looking forward to the promotion.”

“Oh, wow. Who's coming from yours?”

You didn't say anything, was ashamed of yourself. “No, it is his night.” Silence. “Maybe you'll come?” Open hope in the voice of her student, almost her age.

“When? I had plans, but I'd stop by.”

“It starts at 7:00. I'll be waiting, you know! You can come when it's convenient for you.”

A weightless touch, as if you'd brushed something off the back of her hand. You ran your eyes around the room. He's not home. The teacher softened.

“Okay, I'll try.” She finally sits down on a nearby chair. “Come on, show me how you've been practicing. Have you tried to put both hands together yet?”

“I tried, but no luck.”

“Did you play the metronome?”

“Yeah, I got more confused.”

“All right, I'll do the math. Go ahead. E-e-e, one and, two and--“

The game began, with mistakes and quick, hurried edits.

“You've changed.” Said the teacher, stopping counting out the rhythm, because the student was already helping herself with the silent movement of her lips.

“He says the same thing to me.” She chorused the rhythm.

“You're not so much flirtatious, laughing. The author's depression? When was the last time you sat down at the pen?” She smiled.

“I miss it. Okay, wait, what's the best way to play this? I forgot.”

The teacher intercepted her hands and began playing the obscure part, counting out the rhythm aloud with intonation highlighting that "And three, And four, And one...".

“You're unhappy.”

“No, why?”

“That's not a question. I can recommend a psychologist, the best woman I know. She helped me let go of my resentments.”

“I'm not resentful.”

“Teach you to love yourself, so you don't deny those resentments, but accept them. Appreciate yourself, don't deny being alone, but accept being one with yourself. You are not alone, know you can walk away from where you want to walk away from.” The teacher did not realize how she had pushed the piano aside and how she had moved on to passionate speeches. She had been spared the resentment, but not the desire to save.

You looked around the room again out of habit.

“At least he doesn't hit you?”

“No, God, of course not.” You caught the doubt in her eyes and a second frown furrowed her brow. “No, seriously, I wouldn't stand for that. I'm not leaving him. I can't.”

“There's no word for "can't."

“I mean, what dictionary can I give you to back that up? I don't even want to leave. We are one and the same, and he won't just let me go. The only way I'm getting out of here is with my feet up. If I'm lucky and he dies before I do, I'll have a few years of pleasure.” She smiled, starting the composition from the beginning.

“In the left hand hurry a little. And how can you reason like that about a man you're married to? And if the children come, what will you do?”

“The later they come, the better, God forbid now.”

“Does he want them now?”

You hesitated, not stopping the game. It was embarrassing. Again.

“Well he hasn't talked about them yet, though I don't know how he plans to.”

“So even your body doesn't belong to you? You don't talk about your plans, not your plans, but his.”

“My soul doesn't even belong to me. Look, my arms are tired, can I take a little break?” Nod. “What's the best way to pedal here?”

“First learn to control both hands.”

Silence.

You wonder if you could call it a pun. If your body and even the imperishable substance of your being belongs to your husband, a white-haired angel raised in hell and invited into the ether of paradise, a world of powerful, fully-endowed people, will you be able to control what you lost access to on the date that the calendar refers to as the "Anniversary of Dating"?

The remaining hour of class passed in silence, resulting in the learning of a new sonata, even with the use of a pedal to stretch the sound, giving it a smooth flow from one bar to the next.

“I have a question here: when will you finally learn the bass clef? Will you stop signing notes?” The teacher mocked, marking in the diary the next lesson for January.

“It's a rhetorical question.” You looked at the Interlocutor. “Oh man, I don't like that bass clef, I can't memorize it. The only thing I know is what the C note looks like. That's it.”

“Don't forget the "B."

“Oh yeah, and then..." She made a long road to nowhere with her hand.

“And then let the Snow land on top.” He stood at the white archway that opened the living room, leaning lightly against the blue wall with gilded patterns and trees.

You shuddered, nerves to no avail, you were easily frightened, which could not be said of your teacher, - a girl strong-willed. Nevertheless, the fright laid a heavy stone on her heart, sinking it into her heels, and she dropped her pencil and, looking at him confusedly, hurried to pick it up.

“I didn't mean to disturb you, much less frighten you.” The ice-cold eyes flashed over each of the girls, burning their insides with cold.

Coriolanus knew you were partial to this pianist. From the first time you met her, He had noticed the glint in your eyes. Gross, He didn't approve of it, but He also knew it was certainly not worth worrying about. You amuse yourself as best you can from lack of socialization with Him. Yes, maybe you complain about Him, suffer, but you won't leave Him because you don’t want to. These reflections might have reassured Him if He had once experienced a semblance of even doubt, let alone anxiety.

“Ginny, my wife and I are organizing a dinner party tonight. We'd love for you to come.” His eyes darted to you, looking at your teacher. What will you do? If you start coaxing her “friend”, this conversation never happened between you, but if you walk up to Him and...

“What a great idea!” You whispered, flying up to your husband and hugging him by the forearm. He smiles, it all became clear, you had already invited her, but was it scary to ask Him? “I was afraid to invite Ms. Ring because of the possibility of rejection.”

Now you are on His side, snuggling up to Him to get hers. Manipulative. And who are you trying to bend to your will is unclear.

“Yes, of course, thank you for the invitation, I'd love to come. But I'm afraid I'm busy, so I won't be able to make it to the beginning of the evening.”

“I didn't tell you the time, in case you get there.”

You both looked at each other. The pianist was confused.

“Dinner starts at 6:00 or 7:00 in the evening. Ms. Ring apparently skips a lot of dinner.” She tried to put the question into an impromptu justification for the two of them, but it came out badly. The answer to his line didn't work anyway.

“It starts at seven o'clock, but knowing some of the guests, they'll be a little later.” He looked at his wife. “Play the new composition you've learned for me.”

“We haven't played it all the way through yet. We need time.”

“Play it.” Demand…

#coriolanus snow #coryo x reader #coriolanus x you #coryo x you #fanfic #coryo snow #president coriolanus snow #dark fanfic #dark fanfiction #hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

[aejeonghae]

deep night คืนนี้แด่เรา novel

ทุกอย่างเป็นเพราะเวลา เวลาที่ทำให้ชีวิตเขาก้าวเดินไปข้างหน้าได้ในทุกวัน เช่นเดียวกันกับที่เขาจะเป็นเข็มทิศ เข็มทิศที่ช่วยนำทางเวลาให้ก้าวเดินไปข้างหน้าด้วยกันอย่างมั่นคง ไม่ใช่แค่เ��ลาฝ่ายเดียวที่รอเจอเขา เข็มทิศเองก็รอที่จะได้เจอกับเวลาอยู่เหมือนกัน

(everything is because of time. time made his life move forward every day. just as he would be a compass. a compass that helps guide time and move forward together steadily. it's not just wela that is waiting to meet him. khemthid is also waiting to meet wela.)

not doing a full novel break down lol the series actually did a pretty great job in adapting it. overall a decent $13 spent on meb.

warning: khemwela centered 😌🩷

⭐ khemthid ⭐

- name meaning: compass ; direction

- 4th year business management; wants to do a master's abroad

- when his parents divorced he choose to live with freya

- he is RICH rich (his dad's family is elite) but isn't arrogant about it

- popular with juniors and seniors but always rejects them

- has been friends with japan since their first year of uni but japan has never been to khem's house (since japan is a freya simp)

- loves sweets and hates bitter things ; has a soft voice (to all the shogun haters, 🖕🏻)

- doesn't want to be involved with deep night, wanting to move abroad to escape it. he isn't proud of the club but he loves his mom and doesn't want others looking down on her (he also admires the hosts' hard work)

- his auntie soinang is the older sister of his dad and she hates freya and the club and wants khem to move back to their house but he always refuses

- soinang says that the money made by the club (and freya) is "dirty" and khem snaps back with "that dirty money raised me well." 😌

- has an incredibly vivid imagination 🫠

- can't be fake with people and often questions why anyone would be a host

- employees can't drive to or from work so freya hires a van to pickup/drop-off khem which japan thinks is hilarious bc it makes him seem like a kindergartener, he even calls him nong khemthid

- japan also calls him a "love crazed bastard"

- basically becomes an unpaid part-time employee at nong wela's kitchen

- freya initially wanted khem to be "normal" and marry a woman

⭐ wela ⭐

- name meaning: time (in the drama he's also called กาลเวลา kanwela with can likely coming from 'eternity')

- 4th year business management; #1 in his class

- his parents named him wela (time) because he came into their life at the right time

- his dad passed away when he was in elementary school and left the family millions of baht in debt

- became a host to make money so his mom could have a more comfortable life

- the other hosts/employees dote on him

- he is the "rise and grind" type, doesn't let his time pass in vain and also doesn't like to waste the time others; he doesn't give false hopes and doesn't like to go out/hang around wasting time

- has never once broken the golden rules in the years he's been a host at deep night

- his golden rules are actually: what happens in the club stays in the club -- he doesn't sleep or go home with customers. (plus his "whatever i do, i must get paid")

- carries a keychain with an hourglass on it (matching his name)

- charming points: eyes, smile, gentleness (exceptional casting choice with first 😌)

- he is weak/allergic to vodka

- he is a good cook, learning from his mom as she runs 'nong wela's kitchen' 🩷

🩷✨ khemwela ✨🩷

- khem is slightly older than wela

- have been in basically the same classes since their first year of uni

- khem at first sees wela as an unfriendly nerd with thick glasses (เด็ก เนิร์ด my beloved)

- khem only started messing with wela bc japan low-key idolized him and was interested in being friends with him. this made khem jealous and he started taking more notice of wela, teasing him often

"khemtid didn't know why he was acting like this when he normally didn't. [...] maybe it was because japan liked to talk about wela often, admiring him and wanting to be friends with him. khem realized he was jealous."

- khem and wela bump into each other during a meeting with their teacher and seeing wela up close, khem notices how good looking wela is (glasses rizz 😌) and finds his heart being stirred

"khemthid realized that falling in love was extremely easy."

- different from the series, when khem is surprised to see wela at the club, wela is also surprised to see khem

- before the two get close, khem wants nothing more than for wela to notice him

"his heart, which had already fallen in love, hoped wela would greet him back."

- there's a moment where wela rubs pain relief cream on khem's shoulders when they are on a work break

- the night wela gets super drunk, he vomits on khem lol the shower scene is a series only addition, in the novel they just kissed. after, khem says he wants their first kiss to be better (since wela was drunk)

- the morning after, freya yells to khem that she forgot a necklace and that's how wela founds out they are mother and son

- they are a yucky disgusting pda couple :(

- khem confesses to wela while wela is teaching him some basic strap work

"why does the person i love have to like playing with these things?"

"who? you mean khun freya?"

"her too, but i mean you."

(wela kisses khem first)

- the khemwela date night was actually incredibly romantic. khem took wela out and about in bangkok. charoen krung area for famous oysters and nam tao thong (an herbal drink). they have bua loi and then go see the giant swing, wat saket, and saphan put (night market). while there, khem takes wela to the pak khlong talat (flower market) and wela picks out a bouquet of flowers for his mom. they get ice cream before khem takes them to unfinished property owned by freya. there's no fire hazard candle scene lol they just go up to the top floor of the building and look out at the city view

- wela is deeply touched as he's never had time to go out-- whether to the mall or a different province. apart from work, he only has time for studying and helping his mom in the restaurant

- khem wants to be someone who can lighten wela's burdens

- their first time similar to the series. it was wela's idea to blindfold khem (with his shirt) but his hands weren't tied. /also i rather liked the versatile ambiguity of the scene in the series but if anyone wants to know, wela "bottomed from the top" wink wonk

- the rooftop scene was also a series only (in the novel it was in wela's room but... more unhinged dhshsh)

- they have a lot of really good communication moments

"i want to graduate quickly. mom will get some rest and i'll take care of her myself."

"i believe you can do it. as for you, i'll take care of you myself, okay?"

"i'll take care of you too."

he loves the relationship between himself and his khemthid more every day, he is glad that he was willing to open his heart to this fellow faculty member. khemthid is a warm and caring man who cares for the people around him. even though there are times he does things without thinking, he accepts criticism and is willing to apologize.

- khem took wela to his grandmother's house (freya's old home). the pool scene didn't happen lol it was out in the open

⭐ japan / seiji / ken ⭐

japan

- from a middle class family

- has a younger sibling studying architecture at uni (1st year)

- he sees wela as an angel

- innocent type, never dated before

- he's the only one that calls seiji p'saen

"secretly he was glad p'ken stayed away, but if his p'saen was going to be this depressed, he'd allow p'ken to come back."

seiji

- saen ; seiji is his stage name

- wants to be #1 so bad he thought khem was gonna be a host and take his #2 position away (so he thought about just quitting lol)

- when japan confessed to him, it really stirred his heart as he'd closed himself off from love as no one treated him nicely or with sincerity

- being with japan relaxes him, he doesn't have to worry about things and he finds he can smile more and be real

- calls himself 'phi' with japan

ken

- he's a magician 😀 (no he really performs magic tricks for customers)

- he's good at word play

- ken's outting of khemwela is worse. seiji repeatedly and specifically tells him not to do it but he does it anyway and then he bullies wela a lot afterwards 🔪 causing seiji to be immensely disappointed in him

(tbh i wasn't going to add anything about their three person situationship bc that anon i got but y'all can have this snippet as a treat 🩷)

"true love is making the person we love one hundred percent happy, right?" japan turned to look at seiji's face. "p'saen," he pursed his lips, stopping to think a little, and then asked the other person, "do you really love p'ken?"

seiji felt his face numb. he didn't dare answer japan's question. he just stood there, afraid that if he spoke the truth it would make someone sad. because he has chosen to be with his nong. if he admitted that he loved anyone else it would not be a good thing.

"then for p'saen's happiness. i think…"

"japan."

seiji frowned and stared at his boyfriend's face with his heart sinking. he was so afraid that the words he didn't want to hear would come out of his mouth. he reached out and grabbed japan's hand and held it in his, eyes begging the other person not to say it. because if that were the case, he probably wouldn't be able to stand it either.

seiji truly loved japan. was japan dating him out of pity or was he just being nice?

please japan, please.

ken himself was not at all comfortable with japan's idea. he was so afraid that japan would give up to get out of his way. if that's the case, this matter will never end. was ken confident that seiji would never date him even if they felt the same way? not at all. no way.

⭐ great / james ⭐

- just as underdeveloped as they are in the series 👍🏻

⭐ freya / meiji ⭐

- the series fleshed them out immensely

- staff/hosts call freya: khun freya, khun frey, p'frey, p'ya

- freya has been dealing with soi's bullshit since before khem was born (but it got worse after) as she looked down on freya for being a dancer

- freya worked hard for ten years before divorcing her husband

#deep night #deep night the series #deep night novel #userpharawee #usersasa #rinblr #the novel made me more unhinged about khemwela 😌 #i have even more Thoughts & Opinions ™️ about the throuple but i will say i liked getting a glimpse into seiji's thoughts #text post #novel tag

[kiyoumie]

featuring: timeskip!kenma (kodzuken).

warnings: cringe probably, very cliché plot, gn!reader.

note: pls this was a writing after like 3 years, i’m sorry if there are incorrect grammars :’

the lights in his room are dimmed, only his gaming lights are switched on. kenma's sharp eyes stings when he turned on his desktop for the ninth time of the day.

he gets his live ready, he just hit 10 million subscribers and now he wants to celebrate it with a Q&A with his fans. well, he promised his fans anyways, there's no going back now.

as his live starts, the camera turns on and he sees the chat run saying their his and hellos. some fans notice his eyebags, worrying about his appearance. some are donating already, throwing thousands of yens to him.

his appearance is quite bad. eyebags visible and you can literally see the tiredness in his eyes. his shoulders looks weak. but he can't back up now, he tweeted that he was gonna be live to celebrate his new achievement.

kenma giggles, “thank you for the dono.. kodzulove. yes, yes, we’re doing a Q&A today. don’t worry, i promised you guys..”

he looks down searching for something. it took him a second since his room is dark. he shows his fans his favorite black hair tie and begin to tie up his dyed hair into a bun. a lot of his fans goes crazy over this, kenma doesn’t realize why though. somehow it’s hot to them.

“alright. let’s start! first of all, congratulations for me for hitting 10 million subscribers. but of course i wouldn’t achieve this without you all …” kenma continues to ramble about his achievement and his gratitude towards his fans.

“.. okay, i’ve rambled too much. let’s start the Q&A now, remember that i can’t see every question because you guys are going fast in the chat. maybe i should turn on slow-mode.” kenma sighs into the mic and coughs before starting.

he reads out a question, “why did you start your channel?”

“pretty much because i liked gaming since i was a child. then i found out i can make money out of it, so.. yeah.” he smiles.

“can you prank kuroo again?”

kenma laughed as he read the question, he remembers the day he pranked kuroo by wasting his money to buy fucking apple pies from the nearby bakery, “soon. maybe. that might be a death wish though.”

“when can we see you play observation duty?”

“ah, right! i’ll play that soon, the horror game won the poll i started right?”

after a few questions, kenma got bored until he finds an unusual question. his fans mostly questions him about him and his gaming industry. only a few would ask him about his private life, his true fans knows that kenma doesn’t like being questioned about his real life.

“kenma, how’s your partner?”

he reveals a sweet smile before speaking, “they’re doing great. they’re currently doing their essay in the room beside mine. you know, they brought me dinner and dessert to my desk today just before i started this live. i said thank you but i genuinely feel like i can’t show them the love they deserve.

my partner has been spoiling me these days and i just wanna say that it’s cute. when i got home yesterday, my desk was clean. no, my room was clean. then i saw them sleeping on my bean bag..”

kenma stops and reads a comment, “yeah, the green bean bag one fan bought me. thank you for that by the way.”

“but anyways, i just wanna say that i love them so much and i feel like i don’t deserve them. yeah, yeah. i get it. i never say these type of things. but really, i feel like i don’t appreciate their love enough. what do you guys think i should do for them?” he leans down to his chair for awhile.

his chat goes crazy, a lot of awws and suggestions were said. donations flows in quick and he can hear the notifications in his ears.

‘take them out to a date!’

‘get them a gift!’

kenma gets up and giggles while waving his hands in front of his camera, “i’ll do your suggestions. okay, enough of that. next!”

kenma knows that you’re doing your essay right now, but what he doesn’t know is that you have him in the background while you do your work.

you are absolutely ready for a surprise tomorrow.

#haikyuu fluff #kozume kenma #kenma fluff #haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #nekoma #kozume kenma fluff #anime #kodzuken #haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #kiyoumie writes 🧸

[moidhaterxxx]

This is a vent so feel free to ignore

Honestly I feel myself getting weak with all this pressure. Like yes I do feel lonely, idk if I can make it alone. I don't make enough money to live independently, I am still terrified of driving, I want to take care of my sick family members. I have several health issues that need constant care, I feel like a burden. I don't see a way out, I want ppl to be happy with me, I want to be a coward. I don't want to be alone when I'm old I want company too. Ppl say when I'm older I won't get options of good company and the worst thing is they aren't wrong. I don't want to be pregnant or stuff but sometimes I see kids and think maybe I'll regret it if I don't have them. I'm afraid of society judgment. I'm afraid I'm running out of time. I don't know for sure if I'm bi or lesbian and what if it turns out I'm not and I just hate men a lot. What if I wasted my life for nothing.

I have been trying to make female friends and for a while it was great but now even my childhood friends ditch me the second they get a bf or husband or kids. I can't depend on them for ANY support. I just have nobody.

Maybe I should just give in and agree to it. I know i never had these thoughts before my mother forcing me but I'm so tired...

#I'm tired #If only I was a fucking man #I just want to give in #Idk what the point of anything is #indian radfem #desi radfem

[kedreeva]

This might be a shitty ask, so I understand if you don't, or can't!, really answer! I'm in AU, where it's an old farmer's trick to freerange peafowl to eat and scare off snakes. My aunt lives on a farm and she's started talking with great enthusiasm about getting peafowl. She doesn't intend to coop or contain them or have any infrastructure for them at all besides food and water bowls. Even if she had fences- which she doesn't- they wouldn't be more than ordinary wire fences. I've spoken pretty strongly against the idea of freeranging any animals on her property, including her chickens, but she doesn't listen to anyone, and other things (like noise) don't seem to be discouraging her. Other than worming and vaccinating them (which I'll be doing from my own pocket) is there anything at all that I can do to minimise the risk of death, harm, or improve QOL for these poor potential peas? Is there any quirk of training or pea mentality that I can use to keep them in a boundary or radius? If I build them a roost on top of a shed, are they likely to stay within a distance of it? (And yes, I haven't ruled out stealing them, giving them to someone responsible, and telling aunt a feral dog got them)

It's no trouble, and the good news is you won't have to tell your aunt a feral dog got them, because the birds will just leave. If she's that intent on flushing several hundred dollars down the toilet, maybe ask if you can have it instead, and skip the middle man of fussing with the peafowl. She's also welcome to send me the money if she is intent on giving it to someone with peafowl, the result will then mostly be the same! She loses a few hundred bucks and has no peafowl, and someone with peafowl gets a few hundred bucks! The key difference is no birds are harmed in this latter process.

Because here's the thing: your aunt IS 99% going to waste a lot of money purchasing peas and releasing them to free range without first containing them 6-12 months in a standard minimum coop (500 square feet)(and the rule any experienced peafowl owner will tell you is "never free range a bird you can't afford to lose" because even with extended containment first, peafowl often just fuck off when free ranged and they don't look back). They will just leave. it's literally the thing they are known for. I have gotten two free peafowl this year due to idiots near me doing this. Every year people in peafowl groups post about the free birds they just got, when people like your aunt bring them home and let them go. It's a little raffle where you win prizes donated by people who didn't do their research before buying peafowl, or who have more money than sense.

Additionally, even if they stay, they won't scare off snakes. Snakes don't give a shit. The peas will possibly harass or kill one if they see it first and there's a group of them to fuss with it. But in Australia, they are just as likely to die to a snake bite as any other fowl. They have PRETTY fast reflexes, but even in the US I see people lose peas to venomous snakes like rattlers or copperheads.

As for the rest, I don't know if there are any vaccinations that can be given to peafowl in Australia. I know there aren't in the US (I don't think even Marek's is made to be used in peafowl, but DO NOT get that one) because US policy on most fowl illness is to just cull the birds. You also can't effectively treat free range birds for parasites without SOMEWHERE to contain them, because most of the products go in the water and free range may find other sources of water, and the ones that don't you have to repeatedly catch the birds to administer orally.

So yeah. That sucks. Please tell her a peafowl breeder you spoke to thinks she's an idiot if she really thinks she's going to magically convince wild game birds to just hang out upon release with only the enticement of a food and water bowl to keep them around lol

#peafowl #asks #anon asks #animal neglect for ts

[darkworkcourier]

Hi, hello, I decided to be stupidly self-indulgent and write my Courier/Cooper Howard. I guess it's an AU in the sense that I'm writing this under the No Gods, No Masters ending of FNV? Mr. House whomst.

---

All these years on, Cooper still hates Vegas.

He did some work in there—movie scenes, photo ops, theater releases. Casinos used to pay people like him just to show up, to draw in big crowds eager to gamble alongside the stars. He'd throw down a couple dollars on a blackjack table or at the roulette wheel, then make a beeline for the buffet when his time was up. He never had time to go sightseeing in the Mojave, to gaze down the long concrete throat of Hoover Dam, to catch all the sunset colors at Red Rock Canyon.

He flew in and out, and felt dirty all the while.

Knowing what he does about fellas like Robert House, he feels a particular kind of dirty again as New Vegas wavers like a mirage on the horizon. He's passed through before, following bounties through NCR checkpoints and around Legion patrols back when those bastards still crawled like red mites through the canyons and gullies.

This time is no different. A bounty on a would-be gunslinger who put a bullet into a brahmin baron's son during a bar fight. His trail's easy to follow, as all Cooper has to do is the world's longest bar crawl and ask after a shaken-up little shit in a mouse-colored duster. Same color as his coward hide, Cooper says.

His route takes him to a little outpost called Goodsprings. It's quaint in the way that Wasteland towns usually are—just people trying to keep their heads down and still attached to their necks. They must see ghouls aplenty, as everyone from the bighorner rancher to the bartender doesn't so much as bat an eye at the sight of him.

The bartender in particular is his favorite kind of person. The only question she asks is what he'll be drinking, and then she slides him a shot of whiskey and the rest of the bottle.

"Good for the caps?" she asks.

He nods, knuckles the brim of his hat as extra confirmation. "Much obliged, ma'am."

She scoffs with a smile. "Heavens to betsy, but you're polite. Oughta teach some of our other menfolk 'round here to mind their manners."

"It's a dyin' art," he agrees.

She goes back to wiping out chipped glasses with a rag that probably gets them dirtier than not. As she does, the saloon door opens with a low, throaty creak, getting both of their attentions.

The bartender coughs out a laugh. "Been a minute since you darkened our doorway, honey," she says.

Cooper glances over his shoulder to the visitor, burned-up brows rising in surprise. On one hand, she's a Wasteland special—.308 rifle slung over her shoulder, tan face windburnt on the cheeks, aged brahmin leather rucksack over her shoulder practically busting at the seams with supplies. At a glance, he can't tell if she's a scavver, caravaneer, or mercenary—maybe all three.

But on the other hand, he doesn't see women like her all that often. She's probably in her late 30s or so, although he's absolutely shit at guessing ages these days. A pair of aviator sunglasses rest on top of her head—hair blue-black and tied back—like she's a movie star at poolside. And, hell, the rest of her looks that way, too. If it weren't for all the hallmarks of a life lived out in the wastes, she'd fit right in to his best Hollywood memories. Boxed at the edges, sure, but pretty as all get out.

He doesn't often bitch about being a ghoul, but seeing girls like her out in the wastes really makes him kick himself over getting irradiated.

"Trudy," she greets, sliding onto the stool beside him easy as pie. Like the rest of the town, she doesn't so much as blink at him. "How're things?"

"Just dandy," the bartender replies, sliding a bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla, of all things, across the bar top. "How's Vegas?"

The woman snorts as she opens the bottle, sliding the cap into one of her many pockets. "Same as always. Loud. Full of people with more money than brains. I needed a vacation."

"Well, you know you're always welcome," Trudy says, reaching across the bar to pat the woman on the arm. "Now, Sunny'd kill me right dead if I didn't tell her you were in town. I'm gonna hop out back an' let her know, if that's alright."

"Sure," the woman replies. She grins, a little pinch appearing at the bridge of her nose. "Me an' tall, dark, and ghoulish'll keep an eye out for any ruffians."

And just like they've been friends for decades, the woman gently elbows him in the bicep. If it were anyone else, or anywhere else, he might take a little offense. But it's not often that any gal quite like her even touches him, and this town is nice. So he just smiles and nods, good as anything.

"Of course, ma'am," he says, touching the brim of his hat again. "Do what you gotta do."

"Much obliged," she says, echoing him. She looks back to the woman. "Lizzie, you be nice to this fella."

"Always!"

Trudy heads out from behind the bar, leaving Cooper with her—Lizzie. He watches her take a long drink of her sarsaparilla, following the line of her throat, the faint bob as she swallows. She's still got sweat clinging to her skin from the desert heat, but he can also see freckles on her bare shoulders and her cheeks. If he still had the network of blood vessels to get warm in the face, he thinks he might just.

Lizzie sets her drink down and turns to look right back at him. Not at all put off by his stares. She's all smiles, eyes crinkling with crow's feet at the corners. "See somethin' you like, cowboy?" she asks.

Flirting right out the goddamn gate. It doesn't sound like a joke coming from her, which takes him by surprise.

But it's just as easy to fall into a role.

"Suppose'n I do," he replies. "If you're into irradiated fellas, that is."

She breaks into a laugh, which he almost thinks is at his expense until she follows it up. "Cariño, I'm mostly into people who click the Geiger counter," she says, all matter of fact.

Color him surprised again. "S' that so?"

Lizzie leans over the top of the bar, elbow on the top, chin resting in her palm. Her grin's as wide and content as a cat. "I got a track record, won't lie," she says. "Y'know there's a dominatrix ghoul in Freeside?"

He didn't, but that's a fact he's going to be rolling around in the ol' decrepit gray matter for a while. "Huh," is all he says before taking a shot.

"If you tell her Lizzie Holliday sent you, she might give you a discount."

"I'll keep that in mind, sweetheart."

The nickname seems to make her preen, and she takes another drink like she's fortifying herself. She sets it back down, then gives him a long once-over that almost makes him self-conscious.

Almost.

"Wanna get out of here?" she asks.

"Ain't you got a friend wantin' to visit?"

This time, her smile shows some teeth. One of her top incisors is chipped, and some deep-set part of Cooper that still wants supplies the thought that he ought to test how that tooth feels on his own tongue.

"She knows my priorities," Lizzie says.

And that's all the invitation Cooper needs.

---

Holy-good-goddamn, but he missed this.

Lizzie's riding him like he's the last train out of Yuma, rolling her hips over his, hands braced on his shoulders with a grip that would hurt someone with more nerve endings. Her hair's out of its ponytail, messed up one one side where he raked his hand through it while she was sucking his cock earlier.

And holy shit did she have some technique. He doesn't have a reason to doubt that she's fucked ghouls before, since she put just enough pressure on all the right parts so that he could feel it. And not once did she shy away from him once his clothes were on the floor and he was sprawled out on her bed.

Her bed, in a converted ranch home that she's made positively cozy. He feels like a teenager sneaking in through the window, out of place amongst the artwork and Christmas lights and tchotchkes. He could almost put himself two centuries back, in some college girl's over-decorated dorm room.

But sorority girls don't have deathclaw skulls mounted over their dressers.

Lizzie suddenly catches him on an upward thrust that makes both of them hiss. Then she seats herself flush against him, and it's the closest to heaven he's probably going to get for the kind of bastard he is. She's warm, slick-wet around him and for him. Hazel eyes blown wide and cheeks dark with arousal. It's the first time in years he's felt wanted like this; like he's something worth wanting rather than the irradiated husk of a man.

Another thrust and she shudders, muttering in Spanish and squeezing her eyes shut.

He doesn't catch what she says, but he can't help a little self-deprecation for the road. "If you gotta pretend I'm someone else, by all means."

She swears—and that doesn't need a translation—before her eyes are open and fixed on him. "Give me a name to start moanin' and there won't be any confusion," she says, rolling her hips to punctuate it.

"Jesus Christ," he says through his teeth.

"I'm not callin' you that."

He wouldn't normally offer up his name to anyone not worth knowing he was a human once, but she's something different. He knows that the way the wind blows, he'll likely never see her again, but he'll keep the memory of her tucked nice and close for those lonely, long nights.

"Cooper," he says at last.

She smiles, eyes reflecting those ridiculous rainbow lights strung up around her bedroom. Something about her feels otherworldly, powerful. Either he's already in some weird endorphin-induced haze, or he's more into her than he thought.

"Cooper," she repeats. It's easy and warm as sunshine in her mouth, and he wants to hear it again. He bucks his hips for her, driving up into that heat, eager to get a gasp, a whisper—anything.

And she delivers. Leaning over, tits pressed to his chest, mouth by one of his scarred-up ears, she says his name over and over. Follows the rhythm of his thrusts, loses the syllables as he pushes her over the edge. His name is unstrung, a thread caught in her moans and keens. Then she's pushed to open-mouthed silence, riding it out in desperate asyncopation.

When she finally comes down, he's on the way up. She's clinging to his shoulders still, their chests pressed together, her heartbeat a riot of rhythm rushing through his chest.

Then her mouth goes back to his ear.

"It's Adelita," she says, sighs. "Lizzie to everyone else. Adelita to you."

It's a hell of a trade—a name for a name, a release for a god-fucking-blessed release. He comes harder than he has in years, her name warm on his tongue. He fucks into her, pulsing, filling her, earning another gasp and moan wrapped around his name.

When it's all done, she rolls off him onto her back, chest heaving for breath. He's wheezing for his through rotten lungs. But he watches her, the colors of the lights on her freckled skin and in her eyes, the tresses of her hair falling across her sweat-damp forehead, the scar—

His eyes catch on it. Two interlinked starbursts of scar tissue on the right side of her forehead.

Bullet wounds.

He reaches up to push her hair away from it, pads of his fingers brushing over her skin so that he can almost fool himself into thinking he can feel it. "Looks like there's a story up here," he says. Maybe jokes.

She's still smiling. A little weary, a little amused. "That's my hard reset," she says.

"Oh?"

His hand's still on the scar, and she reaches up to tap the back of his hand twice. Tap-tap, in hard sequence. "Two little 9mm bites," she explains. "Sent me into an early grave."

Cooper frowns, looks at her hand now resting on his, both pressed to her forehead. Now that he's looking, he can also see a faint, hair-thin scar that follows her scalp line all the way across. This girl's got some history.

"I gather that it didn't take," he replies.

Lizzie—Adelita—hums to herself, then sings, "There ain't no grave can hold my body down," before looking up at him. "I did get better."

"I see that. So, either you're the prettiest ghoul that done walked the wastes, or the Mojave's got better doctors than I thought."

"The latter," she confirms. "Myself included."

"No shit?"

Her dark brows rise, grin plain on her face. "Doc Holliday. Get it?"

The joke catches him by surprise, again. A lot of shit about this girl is a surprise. It pries a laugh out of him, then earns a few strokes through her hair. "That's good," he says. "That's real good."

"Gracias."

They lay there in a shockingly comfortable silence. His hand in her hair, combing the strands back and away from that scar. She leans up against him, eyes half-lidded, a dreamy expression on her face.

Then, she sighs, "This is already a damn good vacation."

"Glad I could contribute," Cooper says. "High-stress job?"

She sighs, blinks slow, then reaches up and rests an arm across his waist. "You have no idea," she says.

Curiosity gets the best of him. He's a man who appreciates people keeping their noses—or lack thereof—out of his business. However, he's also a bounty hunter, a man making his too-long living on asking the right questions and using those answers to his benefit down the road. It might be good to know something about her, to make connections, to network as some assholes in his past life might say.

"Merc work? Or somethin' worse?"

"Jack of all trades," she says. She raises up her gaze to him, and for one brief, strange moment, her eyes catch that unearthly light again that he can't entirely blame on the Christmas lights. "Mostly courier. An' mostly ruler of New Vegas."

---

Years down the line, Cooper Howard goes back to Vegas.

It's with company now—a vault girl he's tolerating a little more by the day, and a dog. They cross the Mojave, following the silhouette of Vegas by day and its glow by night, drawing in closer and closer like irradiated moths to Vegas' big ol' flame.

Just shy of Goodsprings, as the foothills lean forward like they're drawn in by the city, too, Lucy asks, "What kind of place is New Vegas, anyhow?"

Cooper shrugs and adjusts his pack as Dogmeat trots alongside him, tongue lolling out of her mouth. "Sleazy, dirty, bright," he says. Then, his eyes catch the tallest building in the row of casinos—the top a massive roulette wheel with its spire pointing to heaven. He has to amend his opinion, for the first time since he stepped foot in Vegas as a healthy human. "Ain't the worst watering hole, though."

"We're not going to get shot at right through the gate?"

Despite himself, Cooper smiles. He draws down the brim of his hat as low as he can without losing vision.

"Nah," he says. "All we gotta say is that Lizzie Holliday put in a good word for us."

#fallout #fallout show #fallout new vegas #courier/the ghoul #what would i even call this pairing like????? #ghoulier? mailghoul? coopzie????????

[notmorbid]

the shame.

dialogue prompts from the shame: a novel by makenna goodman.

you didn't say i couldn't have one.

there are few moments in our lives when we are truly nowhere.

eventually, you'll thank me.

can you remember my voice?

i worked hard to love you. to make you feel loved.

i hope you will find the shadows comforting, in the end.

i'm afraid i've become my mother.

stop wasting your energy on obsessive fantasy.

without affirmation, i'm afraid i'll disappear.

pie people always try to convert you.

it's embarrassing how predictable i am.

i thought i had it all figured out, didn't i?

the weight of motherhood is like a backpack full of stones.

i could punch you in the fucking face.

sometimes i wonder if my children really love me.

now i know why you don't have any friends.

of course they'd stop calling, if you talk to them like you talk to me.

it's one thing to be murdered and quite another to die a hero.

it's so easy to be sold perfection.

it means 'get the fuck off me. i just woke up.'

try not to yell at the guests.

people need an audience for their self-hatred.

you can't live like this.

i'm discouraged. not depressed.

change the wifi password and don't tell me what it is.

one thing leads to another until, all of a sudden, you're somewhere that feels dangerous.

those in power want to use power for their own gain.

this is your moment.

there are worse ways to make money.

i'm happy you haven't given up.

i hate you for how deeply you know me.

if you lose power, light a crayon and it'll burn for 30 minutes.

you're narrating again.

it's all too fast. too easy.

i want to stay forever.

i always thought to love more than one person cheapened it.

i can't think of anything that sounds lonelier.

don't worry. it will never happen to you.

everything might not happen for a reason.

what's wrong with being just mediocre?

waiting for things is almost better than having it.

anything done in the name of research is perfectly defensible.

the solitude is weighing on me.

maybe it's a sign to turn back.

i want a cigarette. i need something to hold.

maybe they wouldn't miss me. maybe they wouldn't even notice.

we need to create a culture of men baking.

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