#no editing

[therencist]

[anonimh-mouse]

Monster working their fingers between your lips, wanting to inspect your mouth. How else are they going to know how much of themselves can fit? Monster noticing how different your blunt canines are to their sharpened ones, how different your purposes in life are. Monster catching the glassy look in your eyes as your gaze remains on theirs, noticing how much you’re salivating on their fingers.

Even if you noticed the same differences your monster did, you couldn’t care less. Monster who wishes he’d tried this a long time ago.

[minteacutiewrites]

Let Me Love You Like You Love Me.

Sooooo....

I wrote a thing.

Is it the thing I’m supposed to be writing…no. But I think it turned out nicely, so hopefully I’ll be forgiven. 

Anyway, enjoy Shane being bullied just a little bit. 🤣

⚠️ CW: Light Mess and Potential Contagion ⚠️

‼️Minors Do Not Interact‼️

~

Shane had been avoiding eye contact with him most of this game, and Ilya had a feeling he knew why.

It started last night on the phone when Shane insisted that he was fine. Despite most of his team being sick with whatever bug was going around.

Now that they were on the ice together, though, Ilya could see Shane was in fact not fine.

It was even worse close-up when they had to face off. 

His boyfriend’s face was pale, making the dark bruise-like rings under his eyes stand out, and his nose was the kind of chapped red you only got from days of abuse with tissues.

“So this is fine?” Ilya muttered pointedly when they faced each other. Shane’s cheeks flooded with color, as his gaze flitted away from Ilya.

“Can we not do this right now?” He rasped, his voice almost gone and thick with congestion.

Shane lost the face-off.

Ilya watched Shane from his bench as a teammate handed him a couple of tissues, and all Ilya could think was that wont nearly be enough. He averted his gaze just as Shane snapped forward into the waiting tissues. Not wanting to tempt fate with the prickle he felt forming in his own sinuses.

Ilya couldn't understand why Shane was here.

Taking a swig from his water bottle, he chanced a peek at his boyfriend, smiling and chatting with his teammates like nothing was wrong.

Probably looking to their eyes relaxed and confident.

He saw it, though the way his smile was just a bit too tight at the corners, the slight pinch in his brow.

Shane was miserable, and Ilya couldn't understand how no one else could see it.

He looked away when Shane caught him staring, smoothing his expression, icy like he didn't care.

Missing the way Shane's smile faltered slightly.

~

Ilya texted Shane after the game, standing in the middle of the cold and flu aisle, waiting for his boyfriend to answer.

Ilya stared at his phone, the text conversation only providing more fuel for his irritation.

He didn't understand why Shane was being like this.

It didn't matter if Shane wanted to be stubborn. If Shane wasn't going to take care of himself, Ilya would do it for him.

He shoved his phone in his pocket, making his way around the store, tossing things into a basket.

Not even sure Shane needed any of these things, but he didn't care.

When Ilya walked through the door of Shane's home tonight, he wanted to make sure that he was prepared for whatever was thrown at him.

He got to Shane's place, punching in the door code, arms loaded with bags, wondering if he'd maybe gone a bit overboard.

"Shane?" Ilya called out softly, in case his boyfriend was asleep. Standing quietly in the entryway, he listened for signs of life.

IhZZSCHHihhwww!!

Okay, so not asleep. Ilya closed the door behind him, setting the bags on the counter and unpacking them, as Shane sneezed.

HtzzzsHHiiehww!

And sneezed.

HhhizzZSHHhih!!

And sneezed.

Hh…hehh…hihh-AtzzsSSHiheww!

Ilya thumbed at his nose, roughly bullying the growing prickle in his own sinuses into submission with a snort.

He made quick work of the bags, putting everything perishable away, leaving just the cold medicine, a box of tissues, and a bottle of blue Gatorade.

He opened the cabinet, grabbed a glass, and when it was filled with water, he took his spoils to the bedroom.

Ilya expected to find his boyfriend resting. Instead, he found Shane sitting on top of the covers, staring at the screen of his laptop intensely.

A slight crease in his brow as surly the screen was giving a headache.

"Shane," He said, watching the man startle, "Sweetheart, you're supposed to be resting. Y'know, so maybe you can breathe through your nose next game and maybe not lose so badly."

"I am resting..." Shane grumbled, "We didn't lose that badly."

Ilya peeked over Shane's shoulder to see what he was even doing, irritated to find he was watching game footage.

"Reviewing game footage is not resting, Shane." He said, closing Shane's laptop and taking it away before Shane could attempt to reopen it.

"What the fuck, Ilya!" Shane croaked, reaching for his laptop, but Ilya pulled it out of his reach, using his other hand to push Shane back onto the bed.

His boyfriend didn't give up sitting back up making another grab for it, but Ilya was quicker.

"Stop it, Shane." Ilya said firmly, "Gospodin, I don't understand why you're being so difficult."

He regretted saying it the second the words came out of his mouth, and Shane flinched, letting his hand drop to his side. Staring at Ilya wide-eyed and hurt.

Ilya didn't have a chance to correct himself before Shane retreated under the blankets.

"Fuck you...I said you didn't have to come over." Shane's voice wobbled, sounding small and broken, making Ilya's heart throb.

The last thing he wanted was to make Shane cry.

Ilya took a deep breath, exhaling his frustration. Lifting the corner of the blanket, he crawled underneath, wrapping Shane up in his arms. When he wasn't immediately shoved away, Ilya spoke.

"I'm sorry, Moya lyubov', you're not difficult," Ilya told him, pressing a kiss to the top of Shane's head. "It's just don't understand you did not even tell me that you are feeling bad, and it made me feel sad."

Shane was quiet for a moment, and for a second Ilya was worried he'd said the wrong thing again.

"sndf...I don't...I didn't think you'd want to know. It's just a cold." He mumbled into Ilya's chest.

"You would want to know if it were me." Ilya reasoned, and Shane made a little noise, burrowing further into his side.

"That's different." Shane answered.

"How?" Ilya huffed, letting his hand smooth over his boyfriend's back in circles as Shane thought about it.

"I don't know..." Shane said, "It just is."

Ilya thought about his next words carefully, not wanting to put his foot in his mouth again. He didn't want this to be an argument; he wanted to understand.

"Okay, explain then, help me understand," Ilya said, "What does Shane Hollander normally do when he catches a cold?"

Shane hesitated for a moment.

"Mmm...take medicine, hydrate, take vitamins..." He answered, and Ilya's brow furrowed.

"And let your body rest, right? Skip practice?" Ilya supplied, hoping that Shane had at least the sense to skip practice.

But instead of agreeing, Shane just got really quiet.

Ilya had a feeling he was starting to get to the bottom of this and that he wasn't going to like what he found out.

"Okay, what about on day you have a photoshoot or an ad?" He presented a different scenario: "You call Yuna and say I don't feel well."

"No!" Shane answered almost immediately this time, "My mom works so hard to get those. It'd be selfish to cancel for just a cold."

There was that phrase again. Just a cold.

It bothered Ilya.

"So if cold is not a good reason for Shane Hollander to take a sick day, what is?" Ilya prodded.

"I don't know..."Shane sounded irritated," An injury? The flu? Something more than just a cold."

It was the way Shane said it, not like he was telling Ilya but like he was trying to convince himself. That having a cold wasn't enough to justify needing a break or a minute to rest.

It made him wonder just how many times Shane had heard this phrase.

From his coach? His teammates maybe? He prayed that he had never heard it from Yuna, but Ilya couldn't be sure.

Ilya felt like an idiot.

His Shane could never be difficult. Not really. He always folded himself into whatever neat little box people needed him to fit into

A sharp intake of breath pulled him from his thoughts.

Ilya was almost worried Shane had started crying for real this time, but one glance at his expression told him this wasn't the case.

Shane's mouth hung open slightly as he brought up a hand, his expression hazy, on the cusp of another fit. His chest swelling with hiccuping breaths.

Watching him awoke the dormant buzzing that had settled in Ilya's own nose, which was angry from being squashed down twice today. It was clear it wouldn't be denied this time, but he didn't want to interrupt Shane, so he pinched his nose shut.

Hhht’khschh!—hh’khschhh! HHp-hnNGkkssSHhhtt!!

It wasn't enough.

Shane was still hovering on the crest of his own fit a moment before exhaling, scrubbing his nose.

"Gngh...sorry." Shane snuffled apologetically.

"What are you sorry for? Pretty sure I should be apologizing." Ilya huffed, amused, feeling a little bad about stealing Shane's sneezes.

"I don't know...I just am." Shane said, inhaling sharply.

hHDT’iIISSCHHHhuhh!!

The first sneeze took them both by surprise, as it was much louder than Shane's usual sneezes and completely uncovered. The cool spray made Ilya shiver as it misted his face.

HhhDTSSCHHHhihww! eh'TZZSSHIEW!

The next two came nearly on top of each other, and it wasn't until the fourth and final sneeze that Shane got enough of a pause to bring his hand up.

Hhh… f-huuugck–hH-UhsscCHHheuhw!!!

Ilya was stunned.

Shane's eyes were wide, his face turning bright red as he didn't move his hand away from his face.

Not that Ilya had to guess why that last sneeze had sounded...productive.

"Bud'te zdorovy." He said after a moment, trying hard to keep a straight face, passing Shane the tissue box from the nightstand.

"God, that was so gross..." Shane moaned, pulling a handful of tissues from the box and blowing his nose.

Ilya couldn't keep it together, snorting, amused.

"Don't fucking laugh! I just sneezed in your face." Shane hissed, sounding mortified, but that just made Ilya laugh harder.

"It's fine, Shane. I'm pretty sure I've seen grosser things come out of Troy's nose in the locker room." Ilya teased, and Shane wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"Gross, Ilya, I don't want to hear about that." Shane whined.

"Is true, though, can get really nasty." Ilya joked, earning a light shove from his boyfriend, but at least Shane didn't look so miserable.

He pulled Shane close to his chest, feeling the man's warm breath tickle his neck. They lay there for a moment, enjoying each other's company.

"Shane?" Ilya broke the silence.

"Hm?" Shane hummed, sounding like he was falling asleep.

"Next time, let me know when you're not feeling well...even if it is just a cold." Ilya said, waiting with baited breath.

"...Okay." Shane breathed out before he nodded off.

[buttahsimz]

[crystaspiral]

Curt and Rod x Blinds! Reader

(You just love rage baiting them, what can I say? Also, I’m not good at shade the way Curt and Rod do it. I can be a bit meaner/focus more on implied insults, so yeah. But let’s just assume bc they hate you their shade is shadier or something)

-

The worst day of your life?? It had to be when Homeowner (let’s call them Evening) bought those old fashioned curtains from a stupid store.

They put them EVERYWHERE!! Except the Bathrooms (which, why not?? Why didn’t they take you out of your misery?), the attic and the office. BUT the moment you started missing out on Daisuke, Miranda, Kopi and Cabrizzio’s morning greetings, you know it was war. Like, serious war.

“They are actually quite nice, ami.” Cabrizzio would say to calm you down, but you’d only huff and roll your eyes.

They were annoying, simply put it. They argued, they insulted people outside and most importantly, they were friends with Wyndolyn. And you’re pretty sure the red one (you never cared to remember which was which) has a thing for her, which was 1. Cringe and 2. Cringe.

And what was even more preposterous was the fact that you could only shit talk them with Lux, Tina, Scandelabra, Rebel and Bathsheba. Which were pretty much the go to objects to talk shit about ANYONE with. Like you talk shit about them and you are pretty sure they talk shit about you, too.

Wyndolyn liked them. Cabrizzio liked them. Miranda thought they were lively. Even Evening’s friend said that they looked cool, which just made the blue one’s head swell even more.

The only other object you could talk shit about them with was an in animal.

Sprite.

Mateo once said that you two were too alike and that he’d hate to be on you two’s bad side. You, personally, thought you were nothing like her, but she was still fun to be around with. She’d curl up on your lap, come over to sunbathe or randomly decide to play with your pull cord. And you’d go on a rant about whatever met your interest lately until she felt like it was time to go.

Ever since you’ve started talking about Curt and Rod, she’s been ‘taking breaks’. She’ll leave after a few minutes, come back in a few more and then sit on your lap like nothing happened.

Today, you decided to follow her. Maybe see if she had a fedora and an OWCA.

But what you saw was A LOT more satisfying.

“SPRITE! QUIT IT!”

“Bad cat! No clawing at Curt!”

Aww, she came here to claw at the curtains.

You placed a hand on your chest as you teared up, looking like a parent at their kid’s graduation, “Aww, Sprite! You do listen!”

At the sound of your voice, all three faced you. The two objects curious and Sprite looking like you’d caught her defeating an evil scientist.

“Uhh…who are you?”

You ignored the question, kneeling down and extending your hand. Once Sprite seemed that you were on her side, she slowly walked over to you and licked the tip of your finger.

“Who’s gonna get so many cat treats? You are! Such a smart girl!”

“Are they being serious right now?”

Sprite purred, playing with the pull cord integrated in your outfit, as you faced the men.

“I’m the blinds. Back when the homeowner didn’t pick up charity cases, I was in the living room!” The smile you adorned was faker than a good quarter of Lux’s followers.

“Charity case?! I know a monochromatic blind isn’t talking about charity cases when you’re busy glooming up the entire house!” Bluey bit back pretty quickly.

“They’d be no room for my so called ‘gloom’ cause your ego occupies so much space!” But you bit back sharper.

Little Red Riding Hood clapped back, though, “With you around, anyone would feel better about themselves. You out here getting a cat to do your dirty work.”

Sprite hissed at her mention, wanting to spring at Red, but you held her back, scooping her into your arms. She, thankfully, didn’t scratch your arms, she just stayed there, glaring at the two objects.

“I never told the cat to scratch you up. But if you ask me, I think it’s an opportunity for your friend to to get their crooked stitches fixed.”

“MY STITCHES ARE NOT CROOKED!”

“Don’t get mad. Cheap things are often of lower quality.”

“You’re made out of fucking plastic.”

“ONLY SOME OF ME YOU ASSHOLE!”

And the fight went on for an hour or so until Mateo finally showed up to pick up Sprite and apologize, but you wouldn't let him apologize, because he had nothing to do with anything. Mateo still felt bad, so you sucked up all your pride and apologized to Curt and Rod.

“I am sorry that Sprite thinks you are a waste of space.”

Mateo looked horrified, so you quickly backtracked with a forced smile. “Heh. Just kidding. I’m sorry that…I might’ve instigated Sprite tearing you up.”

Bluey raised an eyebrow, “Instigated?”

You frowned, your eyebrows knitting together, “Sorry, I’ll use smaller words next time.”

Rod had to hold Curt back, “That’s not what I meant and you know it!”

Mateo quietly walked away with Sprite in his arms.

-

Ever since that day, the two had been bugging you a lot more. Mostly to return Sprite. Sometimes, you would pass by them, but the most either party would do is fake smile at each other before gagging when the other turns away.

Soon, everyone know that you were at each other’s throats. Maybe because for Secret Santa, you got Rod mouthwash with a doodle of Wyndolyn and him kissing and he immediately threw the mouthwash at you.

You made sure to catch the look on his face on camera.

Now, anytime you need to laugh, you pull out the photo and erupt into a fit of giggles.

Still, it’s not like you actually hated them. You just wanted them gone. Like GONE. Never seeing them again gone. You being back to number one window shield gone. Yeah, despite Reggie appearing every time you interacted with them with popcorn, you didn’t hate them.

And at some point, you think they liked having you around. In a weird "Shit would be soooo boring without them way".

Anyways, timeskip to the future and you are talking to a living breathing human and they are answering back.

Yes, you admit it, you kinda were a suck up.

But Evening had the power to kick Curt and Rod out and bring you back to your rightful position! This opportunity was presented to you on a gold platter and you didn't have to be Mitchell Linn to see the value.

Unfortunately, Evening caught on fast.

"You beefing with Curt and Rod or something?"

Before you could even answer, Wyndolyn butted in, "Since those two came, they've had beef. It's kinda funny to watch them go at it." She made a poor attempt of hiding her smirk.

You glared at her and she laughed before leaving you two alone, once more.

"Have you talked to them?"

"Yeah! We're friends! They are really nice when you get to know them and--"

You stopped listening at 'friends'.

If they were friends, that means that they've already beat you to it. They've won. You are going to become more and more irrelevant. And when objects become irrelevant, they go to the crawlspace, unaable to interact with other objects. Wyndolyn, Cabrizzo, Kopi, everyone will never see you again.

Would they even care?

You'd be irrelevant. Just taking up space.

"I need some time to think," you cut Evening off, raising your hand.

She seemed a bit surprised, but it soon melted to concern, "Are you okay?"

You turned away from them, "Leave."

At least she was nice enough to walk away.

But the next time she'd come, it'd probably to remove you.

Sometimes, you felt like you weren't supposed to exist, like Curt and Rod were better. Like the shutters on the other house was better. They were all aesthetic, pleasing and you were just white, black, brown and grey. An eyesore.

You brought your fingers to your cheeks when you felt something hot on them. You rubbed at your eyes till they were raw and probably red, before you got up and decided to stop feeling sorry for yourself.

Before your inevitable uselessness, you had to congratulate the curtains.

They won fair and fucking square.

-

Curt and Rod had a sixth sense when it came to you. You kind of felt like disappointment and annoyance.

They didn't even need to turn back to know that you were glaring daggers at them. Still, you never just STOOD there. You'd glare at them for like a second before moving on.

"Are they still staring?"

"Yeah..."

"Okay, this is weird. I'm going to ask them why they're doing that."

"What? No! What if it's a trap or something?"

"I don't care, dude. This is getting weird as hell."

Rod was the first to turn around to actually meet you face to face. And your face was...not exactly the face he'd been expecting to see.

You looked frustrated and satisfied, which was interesting, to say the least.

"Why are you staring at us, man? Thought being gloomy wasn't enough, now you've gotta be creepy, too?"

Curt turned back, immediately ready to defend his friend when you snapped back, but you didn't.

"Just looking at the faces of the winners, obviously. Want to remember you before I'm removed," You angled your hands like a frame around them, closing one eye to better focus, "Could you two smile? I know you're hiding shit-eating grins cause you won. I won't punch you in the face, so just show them to me."

The gibberish you were sprouting was pretty on brand, but removed? Why would Evening remove you. They've talked to Rebel and they're still quacking it up in the bathroom? Besides, you were pretty nice to literally everyone but them, so how did the homeowner even see you in a negative light?

"What are you talking about?" Curt asked, "Win what? And why is Evening removing you?" They didn't know if it was concern or curiosity that made him ask, but whatever he was feeling didn't make him dwell on that too long.

A sigh left your lips as you jutted them out, brows dropping jut over your eyes, "Stop acting dumb. I know you wanted this."

"Wanted you to make Sprite stop scratching up Curt and stop acting like you want us dead? Yes. Wanting you removed? That's a bit of a stretch," Rod was a lot more guarded as he spoke, eyeing you up and down to try and decipher what you were feeling.

They'd never seen you cry. Just angry or faking a smile. It was unnerving and uncomfortable seeing you look so broken.

"I don't tell Sprite to scratch you up!" the brief snicker you let out sounded strained, "She does it of her own volition."

"You feed her snacks everytime she does it!"

"I shouldn't feed a starving cat?"

"Why do you keep twisting my words?!"

You laughed.

It was less mockingly and dare they say it, fondly.

"Please don't tell anyone that I'm getting removed. 'kay?"

And you left.

"Did they just say please?"

Okay, now they had to talk to Evening.

-

"Hey, Evening! Come over for a second."

They still dragged her over to the windows with grim faces.

They weren't worried about you. I mean, you wanted them gone. They were more worried about what you leaving meant. You were close to a lot of objects they were close with and they knew that your absence would mean a lot to them (even though they couldn't see the appeal).

"Sooo, are you thinking of doing some renovations in the house?" Curt immediately started.

"Curt!" Rod facepalmed, "We are supposed to ease into the subject!"

Evening cocked an eyebrow, "What subject are you easing me into?"

The two friends shared a look, mentally arguing about something for a quick moment, before Rod finally conceded and cleared his throat.

"Your Monochromatic Monologuing Blinds over there thinks you're going to trash them, basically."

"WHAT?!"

-

Okay, so after a conversation with the Homeowner on how she would never have you removed, you felt a bit lighter.

It was like no matter how bad you performed, you were guaranteed a position. And it was comforting. Like a heavy blanket. Something they said caught your attention, specifically.

"When Curt and Rod told me about this, I thought they were joking."

Curt and Rod?

Weren't they the ones that told the Homeowner to get rid of you? Why would they--

They didn't actually want you gone. Okay, no, that was on your narcissism. It was pretty self centered to think those two befriended the human just to get you kicked out and it was also pretty self centered for you to want to do the same thing.

So, you went to go and meet them, again. This time with gifs, instead of insults.

"I'm sorry for being...a bit mean towards you," You told the two that were buried under a pile of gift baskets and boxes, "Something, something, therapy. And I just realized that I was a huge jerk. I probably knew it all along, though, but I'm still sorry and you don't have to forgive me."

When Rod dug to the surface of the pile, he deadpanned atg you, "Mean and jerk doesn't even BEGIN to describe--"

"Rod! They got you a signed cd of that new thriller that just came out!"

"...Apology noted."

Reggie's schedule drastically changed after that.

You didn't become friends, immediately, but the shade you threw became a lot less mean and more friendly. You'd even sometimes laugh at their jokes and they'd playfully rib you any chance they got. Sometimes, you'd get on each other's nerves and get into a fight but as time went on, the fights were less frequent.

The effort you made to be their friend was partially to make everyone comfortable with bringing you three together to an event (you didn't notice how many plans Celia made to avoid you seeing Curt and Rod and fighting them) and partially because they were kind of fun to hang around with.

Not to mention that they were amazing gossip/shit talking partners. They listened to every scandalous news you'd gotten, which was even better because you had different perspectives! Usually, they'd only have a few, but you went way back with a good chunk of the objects so you had a lot of different perspectives to add on top of each other. While Wyndolyn would theorize about the truth, Curt and Rod would crack jokes about all of it and sometimes even throw shade at the parties involved.

These days, Sprite even stopped scratching Curt up. Sure, she'd screech at him if he ever bothered to touch her, but she stopped seeking him out and just laid on your lap as you ranted to the other two objects.

You grew fond of them, actually. And you like to think they grew fond of you too.

Or maybe they didn't.

-

What does it mean to be human?

To breathe air? To have empathy? To have unlimited wants and balanced them with your very limited resources? To understand the complexities and the horrors of such a burden?

One by one, all your friends went out into the real world tofind their own meaning, their own definition.

They achieved amazing feats you all could've only dreamt of. Starting shops, businesses, entire movements, everyone was flying and dreaming bigger than the house ever let them.

You were one of the earlier objects to be realized. Coupled with that and you visiting Evening thrice almost every month, you gained the phone numbers of those who came after you. Your phone always had a notification to be answered, a call missed or a voicemail sent.

Except from Curt and Rod, who'd you found yourself thinking about more often.

They got realized before you. So, you don't really know their phone numbers but even when Evening offered to give them to you, it made you cringe and decline.

They would be better off just forgetting you, after all.

Yeah, you definitely weren't trying to run away from the newfound feelings that grew with the time you spent apart. Washford told you that absense only akes the heart grow fonder and that the best thing to do is just 'be with your beloved'.

Well, 1. Drysdale came to passionately make out with him after, which was eww. 2. You don't really think you want to damage your relationship with them like that. It was better for you to be distant but still have relatively good memories than be distant and them remembering you as a cringe playground bully that had a crush on them and major inferiority complex. 3. Burdening the people you'd been the meanest to just felt like more cruelty. Why would they even want to see you?

It was a good thing you were just a screenwriter and not in the comedy business!

One day, Amir, Betty and Evening ganged up on you a Hollywood award ceremony or whatever, saying it was good for you to go since you were nominated. You hated those things and would claim to be too sick to attend. Regardless of your nomination and sometimes winning of a prize.

This year, though, they didn't let you bail. They pulled Wyndolyn into the mix and you could never say no to her, so you told them you would come.

Unfortunately, it was like the universe didn't want you to go. Traffic was hell, a bird pooped on your outfit so you had to buy a new one, only to realize that your hair looked wrong, so you had to quickly style it in the bathroom.

By the time you finally made it into the building, you saw Betty, Homewoner, Amir and Wyndolyn sitting down, an empty seat nex to them. Before you could take a step closer, next to the open sseat, you spotted two very familiar faces whispering and giiggling with each other.

Oh, now you get it.

Well, you had two options. Go back home or take the seat.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

oops my tooth fell out oops my teeth fell out oops my bones fell out oops haha jiggle jiggle

[warizoh]