you pick me up & take me home again (we might be hollow but we’re brave)
[fool’s gold deleted scenes for chapter 11, or: LaFerry is absolutely so gross (& lovely); Will is awesome on a ride home with Zeta Society. & laura’s Private Time. //
felixdawkins & turnandchasethewind, the writers for carmilla’s hsau, asked me to write these scenes that correspond to events in chapter 11 of fool’s gold. i made zero money on this. the plot is not mine. // ao3.]
you pick me up & take me home again (we might be hollow but we’re brave)
& i like you/ i love these roads where the houses don’t change/ where we can talk like there’s nothing to say/ i’m glad that we stopped kissing the tar on the highway/ we move in the tree streets/ i’d like it if you stayed —lorde, ‘400 lux’
You really do want fries, and, okay, you know you don’t go to fancy restaurants very often, but this one kind of sucks, and you’d rather watch Perry smile because of a burger and the sunset anyway.
“Babe,” you say, and she looks up from her menu—that she was frowning at—to you.
A short guide by skogsraw on how to climb down a small mountain.
A while back Linn found something she could climb. So she gave me her camera and started to climb. Who could possibly resist a small mountain in the middle of Stockholm? The photos I took turned out pretty great. At least I think so. I’m no expert but it was a lot of fun. :)
And now you know how to get down if you don’t know how! The last bit is always the toughest. But if you dare to jump, you can achieve wonders!
HEY EHY HE , , hey , can you draw ,, , rufioh x cronus, , ,p lease also i luv u mwah
ilu2 you wonderful cute yes mwwaaaahhhhh I tried to draw, file got erased, i got saddddddddddddd then I drew it more once I wasn’t sad and forgot that this art blog is totally post-on-able *thrash* I’M SORRY I’M A BIG DUM
The Dress Is What Started It (Patrick Stump Fluff)
(A/N: ilu2 anon and this is a bit short but you can’t really do much~ I hope you guys like it and I have four other requests I’m working on now so I’ll be posting at least another imagine today)
One of your friends, Pete, had invited you to a party. You hadn’t even met his band yet alone all of his other friends. You were wearing a flower styled short dress, it looked a little old but it was very beautiful. Personally you thought you looked better in that than a revealing dress. When you got to the party, it seemed you were way out of place. All of the other girls were wearing black skimpy dresses and just clothes that were too revealing for your taste. “I wonder if I can drive home right now and change-" The thought was interrupted by Pete, walking over. "You’re late!” He said, you could smell the alcohol on his breath. “Yeah, yeah. Oh and you could have told me this was going to be like a party party. I thought it was just going to be a small party.” You whined. “You look fine, come over here and meet my friends.” He put a hand on the your back and guided you through the crowd to the food bar. “They were just here- Let me go find them..” Pete walked away and got lost in the crowd. The little pastries there looked hardly touched, yet all the shrimp was gone. You took a mini cupcake and started eating it, kind of it hiding it. You felt a small tap on your shoulder and when you looked behind you, you sorta choked on the cupcake. “Oh god, I’m sorry. Are you alright? D-Did I startle you?” His voice sounded like honey. You swallowed it and shook your head, “A little, it’s fine-” Then you proceeded to laugh, blushing and covering your face a bit. “I-I just wanted to compliment you on your dress, I didn’t mean for you to choke.” Patrick said, he looked like a puppy who got its tail stepped on. The blush you had was a little bit more noticeable now, “Thank you!" He smiled brightly, he was very cute. "If I had a nickel for every time I saw someone as pretty as you, I’d have five cents." Patrick rubbed the back of his neck, thinking of why he just said that to the most beautiful girl at the party. You erupted into a fit of giggle and laughter, "I can’t believe you’re saying this to me, you’re making me blush.” He was blushing a bit himself. “I’m Patrick, what’s your name?” “I’m Y/N, Nice to meet you~” You replied. “That is beautiful name, I like it.” Patrick complimented. “Why Thank you, Patrick.” You swore this man was too sweet for his own good. “So what do you do for a living, other than being beautiful?” He said, which made you laugh. Before you could reply Pete showed up, “There you are Patrick! I guess you already met my friend.” He exclaimed. “I did, she’s great.” Patrick answered.
The night was filled with talk and Patrick just kept complimenting you and stuttering while he did so. It was adorable really.
Here is my love letter to Last Rites. Is it positive? Ehhhhhh. Ymmv. I think so? Also the penultimate smol thing! Thank you guys for all your love and support while I’ve been whittling away at these. I have read every tag, reblog and reply and I adore you all signifcantly - and to those of you who have had to put up with them on your dashes everyday, thank you for not unfriending me ilu2 <3
It had dawned on her, on one of those long indeterminable days when he was gone, that she didn’t know what his laugh sounded like. Not a real laugh, not one free of pain, or sarcasm. Not a laugh put on to charm or misdirect. Not genuine joy unencumbered by the general stresses and weirdness of their day to day lives.
It’s not even that she’d forgotten, that she’d allowed the haze of her grief to swallow it along with the way his lips felt against hers and the sound his boots made on the deck of the Jolly. Grief hadn’t corrupted her memory of his laugh in the way it had twisted the memory of his hands on her skin (cold, always cold now when she’s sure he’d always been so warm). She simply hadn’t known. Had never known.
That realisation is worse than forgetting could ever be.
It’s on one of the worst days of her life, her hands shaking when they’re relieved of their twin burdens of flask and arrow, that that changes.
At first she can’t quite believe he’s real - appearing in a flash of white light and calling to her from the foot of his own grave like a gothic fantasy come to life - and then she’s running, running with her arms outstretched in fear he could blink out of existence at any moment, and then she collides with him and he’s warm and beautiful and twittering on about something to do with Zeus and she doesn’t care, she doesn’t care, she doesn’t -
She peppers his face with kisses, all the dozens and dozens of kisses she’s regretted never giving him when she thought they had more time, and she wasted, wasted, wasted it all. And he laughs.
He laughs, clear and bell-like. A giggle, if such a thing could be imagined. A pure, desperate happiness that echoes in her own heart and thrums through her veins.
She memorises it, the rise and the fall and the catch of it, and carves a place for it deep within her chest. She won’t forget it now, not ever, and more than that, much, much more than that, she makes it her mission to hear it every day for the rest of their lives.
I love you!! <3 <3 I was wondering if we could get a collage of Landon being a complete dork like the most recent page? (ch 23 pg 61) One other situation that comes to mind is when he's balancing the cup on his nose. If your too busy I totally understand, I still love you. ♥♥♥
HI ANON ILU2 💖💖💖 I like this request… although, I started to get confused, like, wait, is this considered dorky??? LOL ANYWAY UHM this collage ended up huge… I was thinking, maybe I should cut it… but it’s my gift to you. Enjoy 💝