Okay so I requested this on your other page but I'll request it here too, could you write a reader x the lost boys about the reader has a nightmare about the boys turning on them which makes them paranoid so they distance themself from the boys which leads to the boys freaking out cause they think they did something to make the reader is mad at them. They eventually confront the reader, etc...
A/N ; sorry for waiting a month to post this. been surrounded by a lotta loss recently. (dropping my alter ego for a sec, genuinely thank you for being patient.)
the night was quiet—eerily quiet. the kind of quiet that made you want to throw up. the kind of quiet that made you itch.
the abandoned hotel around you, where you spent the majority of your days, felt oddly fuzzy. everything was in place, and everything felt familiar. the paintings on the walls looked like blurs. the disheveled pillars on the ground weren't straight whatsoever, rather being in zigzags. but for some reason, you felt as if that was the least of your worries.
you don't know why you were here in the first place—the boys only hung out in this place around midnight. but, here you were, the early moonlight piercing through the abandoned area. something told you they were here. those gorgeous vampires were nearby, for better or for worse.
"david," you call, hearing your voice bounce against the ancient stone walls. "marko? dwayne, paul?"
"whatcha' yellin' for, babe?"
michael was the last person you thought you would hear, mostly because he was trying to visit his family at every possible moment of dark. but oh boy, was he a sight for sore eyes. you nearly leap at him, tossing your arms around his waist. he blinks down at you, huffing out a laugh.
"michael! where the hell is everyone else?" your projected voice makes him falter for a moment noticeably. "they're never out this long. you—you're usually out longer. is something the matter?"
"slow down, slow down," he laughs, tightening his grip a bit. you weren't gonna complain, you needed the comfort. you shifted slightly to get a better look at him, to make eye contact with him. "david and the boys are fine. they're just… preparing for dessert, you know?"
you squinted up at him, tilting your head. dessert wasn't really something that they went out for. but, laddie was with them, so maybe he wanted some ice cream on the boardwalk. but another part of you realized that they probably would've invited you. so, the question is asked, why the hell are you here?
michaels tight hug made you cough from the lack of oxygen. "michael, you can let go now. i think that we should go out looking for them. i have a bad feeling."
"they're fine, (name)."
"michael—OW! michael, let go of me! that hurts—"
"it'll hurt for now, but the pain'll go away soon."
your heart thunders in your chest. you have so many questions with so little answers. michael was never this cryptic, sure, he was vague sometimes but that didn't connotate what—
a sharp, buzzing… pain sears through the back chunk of your neck. letting out a scream, you desperately try to kick out of michaels hold, which you now realize was keeping you in place, cutting off your oxygen. a statue of trust has now become your grave.
"quit squirmin' babe, c'mon! hold still," you hear a familiar voice whine. marko, who grumbled and murmured half-hearted orders into your ear as he tore through your neck.
michael, and now marko?
you always knew spending all of your time with vampires was a bad idea. hell, you forgot they were creatures of the night sometimes. they seem so unbelievably normal—it was a gut feeling. is this happening to michael, marko, and the others, or is it just them? did you do something wrong? did they just… lose it?
the harsh force on your neck, attributed to marko, was ripped away suddenly.
"marko, you're making a mess."
you shiver from hearing paul's voice, which cuts through the dramatic, hazy, cartoonish drips of your blood onto the dirt.
marko, eyes red and piercing, stare into paul with the attitude of a child. "yeah, right! like you would've done any neater. the last time you tore into a meal like this, you couldn't help yourself!"
meal? am i just some fucking meal now?
"well at least i'm not a hog, man. now back off and give me a turn."
paul shoves marko to the side—something you never imagined would happen a day in your life. they were the closest knit, and aside from the occasional roughhouse for laughs, they never would've gotten violent with each other. what you didn't expect was how viciously the blond tore into the other side of your neck.
the weirdest thing was the fact that it didn't feel painful. all it did was sting. it felt like a harsh pressure digging into you, jabbing at all your nerves, but never burning or making you scream in pain. the only explanation for this had to have been—
the pressure that had built up from pauls stinging bite disappeared slowly when you hear him grunt on the ground.
"you guys tore them up, huh? david isn't gonna be happy."
dwayne strides into the scene, the cause of paul falling down, and moves into your peripheral vision. he frowns, head tilting at you.
dwayne—the same guy that's been your shoulder to cry on, the one that takes care of you like he's known you all his life. the vampire who treats every guy here like a brother by blood. he should be saving you if anything. he should be ripping you out of michaels tight grip and rushing you to a hospital for all of the blood you're losing.
"did you guys leave any spot for me?" he chuckles bitterly, his eyes narrowing on your shoulder. "so selfish."
you cry out when he rips a part of your tops sleeve, something terribly uncharacteristic of him, and dives in monster-form-first to sink his teeth into your shoulder, which was already coated in blood.
despite feeling no pain, tears prick at the corner of your eyes. not because of the blood or the harsh pressure you were feeling—but because these were your boys. the boys you stayed up late with, the boys you hung out with, the boys who recognized you as a person and let you stay regardless of whatever you've done.
screams and cries ripple through your throat, which don't end up coming out, only blood spurting from your mouth, coughing it onto michael and his leather jacket, who only laughs at your horrifying actions.
this was a nightmare—it had to have been. you couldn't move, you couldn't speak, and you could barely breathe.
dwayne sucked the blood out of your shoulder and arm feverishly, sinking his sharp fangs into every inch of your skin. no matter how much you screamed, him and the trio couldn't stop laughing their asses off about your terrible struggle. you could feel your body losing energy rapidly.
while you wanted to believe this was make-believe, it felt so… real. aside from minor details, and how they treat you, the boys were normal—not only that, but you felt their harsh touches and bites. maybe you did something wrong. maybe this was your fate for hanging out with blood-sucking vampires.
"man, sweetheart, you're lookin' worse than usual."
david.
the blood still left in your body went cold, completely frozen up as you looked at him. he was holding a severed arm painted in the sticky maroon liquid, which he brought up to his face and licked. his bleach blond hair glimmered under the cold hiss of the moonlight.
"dwayne," he says, beckoning to the man with his head. a silent sign to tell him to back off.
dwayne, where all credit is due, backs off swiftly, licking his lips and wiping the excess liquid with his leather jacket sleeve. his arms cross, giving david the go-ahead.
all of your blood is practically gone—you're sobbing, you're screaming—but you don't think anything was more terrifying than the way that the blond looked at you. those half-lidded, bulging eyes, that stupid fucking smirk, and those overly long fangs that you were 100% sure did not actually look like that. his vampire form looked much more… dramatic than you last remember it. he leaped down from the ledge of the entrance, slowly sauntering towards you.
"you wanna hear something, (name)?" david began, your eyes glued to his fangs. "you're a fucking meal—"
"not in the hot way either," marko barked out with a laugh, ruining the tension for a slight moment before being glared at by the other four boys in the situation. he coughed awkwardly. "my bad."
"as i was saying… why do you think we keep you around in the first place? you're substance when we can't find enough for the night. just a blood bag."
the quintet of vampires all burst out into laugher and chortles, all which make you deflate with shame. with fear and bitterness.
"you'll live. after all, what good is a dead bodies blood? we like our food warm."
their laughs seemed to get louder and louder, almost like shrieks of excitement in your ears. your body felt like TV static. your vision began to fizzle out, as well as the feeling in your limbs. all you could taste was blood, while all your other senses were collapsed and dead.
i can't go out like this. i—
you jolt out of bed in a puddle of cold sweat, the dirty silk sheets rustling to match your shape. a slight buzz hummed through the air as you regain all of your senses. your body felt as if it couldn't stop trembling, given by the fact that you were practically making the massive, deteriorated bed vibrate.
for the first time, your first instinct isn't to feel your palm on the sheets, awaiting to hit skin. you do not call out for michael, or david, or dwayne, or paul, or marko.
"(name)? you okay?" you hear star beside you. she was alright—that's good. the only thing you were concerned about now were if her and laddie were okay.
you give her a saturnine smile, sitting up out of the bed. it takes you a moment to even answer; should i even tell her about that nightmare? "yeah, star, i'm okay. thanks for asking. just had a small nightmare."
"what about?"
"don't worry about it."
star frowns at you, releasing a breath before brushing some hair out of your face. "okay. the boys are almost up, maybe they'll help you out."
a shiver rakes down your spine. that will not be happening.
you can hear a loud thump through the cave; the familiar sound of the five vampires dropping from their resting place. without a second thought, you fling yourself out of bed and put on your leather jacket—no, wait. it's david's leather jacket. the memory of him leaning in to tear you apart and insulting you to hell practically forces you to put it down.
so, without a jacket, you move to disembark from the abandoned cave. you feel star stare at the back of your head in worry, but you choose to ignore her. when the sun finally sinks down, you feel sweat gather on the back of your neck.
"g'morning to you two," paul greets smoothly, nearly making you jump. "we good for some breakfast?" breakfast, which was essentially code for "dinner."
fuck.
"i'm fine," you muster out, voice quiet but audible.
paul smiles at you, but his expression slowly falls as he realizes you're refusing eye contact. it wasn't like you—you were usually mostly smiles and laughs. that was the first red flag. he opens his mouth to call out to you before you can hop out, but loud footsteps start stomping towards the main room.
"who's ready for a good ride?" david's voice booms, whereas he eventually lands right next to his fellow blond friend. the words die on his tongue when he watches your eyes widen with something akin to panic, right before you storm out of the buried hotel. he looks over to star, eyes narrowing slightly. "what's up with them?"
"why, i don't know," star fumbles, shrugging as her eyebrows crease together. "(name) said they had a nightmare, but that's all they told me."
marko, dwayne, and michael walk into the scene, where paul whispers behind david, filling them in on the situation.
"so which one of us want's to go poke the bear?" michael asks, interrupting the silence.
the group of vampires look to one another, before dwayne sighs and raises his hand. "i can handle 'em. they're the most relaxed around me."
marko looks at him with suspicion, squinting his eyes. david appears especially unimpressed, snorting slightly. "who told you that?"
"billy joel," paul answers, snorting before the entire vampire posse chortles and hollers.
dwayne rolls his eyes, laughing slightly before chasing after you with a light jog.
the early moonlight glimmers on your skin as you rest on the top of the hill. waves crash beneath you. the world seems so still. a part of you even thinks that this could be the dream after the nightmare.
it's been ten minutes since you woke up—ten minutes too little. that nightmare keeps playing on loop in your mind, impossible to shake, you're starting to realize. seeing david and paul and the other three was enough to make you spiral and question your life choices as it is.
it begs the question; can you really trust them? who's to say they won't turn on you? get a little too hungry?
"hey, babe."
even dwayne's soothing voice makes you tense up.
you sit up fast, eyes widening as he trudges up the hill to you. his smile is warm, but it doesn't prevent you from sweating excessively.
"oh—uhm—hey, dwayne," you say, voice quiet.
dwayne's eyes are glued to you worriedly. you've never seen him look at you with such softness. mainly the kind you saw with laddie. "i'm worried. we're all worried. you seem distant," he hums, taking another step, which makes you take two back.
the grass crunches beneath your feet as you take steps back, nervously swallowing a bunch of saliva. "i'm fine," you push through gritted teeth, smiling unconvincingly. "you can go back now."
"did something happen? did we do anything?" the dark-haired beauty asks, reaching a hand to his heart.
"no, dwayne. i said no."
he takes a few more steps.
"you're never like this, c'mon, you can tell me—"
you scream at the top of your lungs.
from his constant stepping, and you stepping back, you eventually tripped off of the fucking cliff.
before you can feel the sudden rush of wind pelting down on you, strong hands wrap around your waist. dwayne caught you—why wouldn't he? he looks at you with so much fervor that you can feel yourself burning up. how he usually looks at you. he held you so tight, it reminded you of—
"are you okay?" he asks softly, eyes scanning over you to ensure you're not injured.
you, however, push away.
it reminds you too much of the nightmare. of how michael held you tightly, maybe even tighter than that.
"i'm fine, dwayne," you boom, your voice saying it like a demand as you avoid eye contact. "mind the space, yeah?"
and so, the vampire is left on the peak of the cliff, moonlight painting him as he hopelessly stares at your fleeting form. he had no clue what would ever make you act this way. but it was dwayne—he's thankful that he's the one that got this treatment rather than the others. even he knew he was the one most likely to help maintain your personal bubble.
so, he'll let you have this.
for now.
if the sun was enough to burn you, then you were surprised that the amount of lights on the boardwalk weren't extinguishingly hot.
you never got used to the loud screams of the people on rides, nor those bright flashing neon lights that surrounded you in the popular area. not only that, but the extreme claustrophobia regarding the crowds made you want to actually jump off that fucking cliff.
but there were no vampires around, so it wasn't that bad. you didn't know if you could ever step foot next to another vampire again—but maybe you'd allow star. maybe laddie when he's allowed to go out and do stuff by himself.
you breathe in the cigarette smoke and lingering scent of fried oreos. this is the same place that you've done everything with the boys you called your friends.
they're still your friends, of course. but it's hard. it's hard to face them.
"(name)."
it's star in all her glory, her curls shimmering under the neon signs. shes always looks so ethereal—a beacon. but, knowing her, she was most likely forced to be bait to lure you out of the crowds and into the arms of the group of vampires.
"oh. hey, star," you greet, smiling sadly. you keep your distance.
"look, i'm worried. and if i don't bring you over, then david'll find you. you know how he gets."
"you don't get it, star. that dream—that nightmare. they weren't themselves."
her eyebrows furrow. star reaches out and cups your cheek. "it was a nightmare. it wasn't real," she giggles lightly, trying to lighten the mood. that shit does not work. "you've lived with them and been surrounded by them by years. they'd never do anything targeting you negatively, or whatever that nightmare was."
you take a deep breath in. "i understand, star. i just need space, okay? i need to think about all of this."
"i don't know how david is gonna take that," star trails off, eyes drifting over to david, who was staring intently at the two of you from afar, leaning on his motorcycle.
"he doesn't have to."
you kiss her hand before walking off, submerging yourself in the crowds. she calls out to you numerous times, but you couldn't find it in yourself to turn around.
it's hard to ignore the piercing stares you get into the back of your head. honestly, you're not surprised that you already hear the boys bikes revving, booming loud, the noises crawling closer to you.
yeah, that wasn't menacing at all. five motorcycles stalking you and terrorizing a public space because they didn't know how to not put on a show.
the crowd gets thicker the closer you run to the street performers and food stands, weaving through people who yell at you without a care in the world.
they can't ride their motorcycles through the crowds. i'm guaranteed to lose them.
except for one minor detail. through one of the fun house mirrors placed outside for reference, you see the five motorcycles had disappeared entirely. and that lead to you hearing harsh revs below you. underneath the boardwalk.
you reach a clearing—because of course you do. the loud music is but a distant chirp. this part of the boardwalk was always quiet in it's own way. it was full of all of the things like kite stores and souvenirs—not quite popular enough to keep up with the thriving night life of santa carla.
and before you know it, the same five, familiar vehicles jump up from under the boardwalk, racing up and fully blocking your path. the way that david and the rest of him scanned you made you want to explode on the spot. he picks something from his teeth, licking them before looking directly at you.
"you knew we would find you, babe," he sighed. you couldn't help but notice how much gentler his tone was than usual.
"we just gotta know," michael follows up, pushing himself off his bike to move towards you. dwayne, who was riding next to him, stops the brunet before he can move further star and laddie watch with worry from david and dwayne's bikes. "what's going on? what did we do to deserve you looking at us like—like monsters?"
you grit your teeth. you might've even felt a vein pop. "you wouldn't fuckin' get it. it's personal stuff, okay?" your eyes narrow onto the sand-dusted wood of the boardwalk. "you… you aren't monsters." but your hesitation is apparent.
"then why are you avoiding us? you're gonna have to tell us eventually, sweetheart," paul hisses, holding his head in his hand.
"babe, you live with us. why not tell us now and get it over with, yeah?" you hear marko encourage, as his gaze flits to your fidgeting hands. he moves over, offering out his palm to hold. "i promise we won't be mad."
david, dwayne, paul, and michael nod in agreement with him, giving varied words of validity.
your face scrunches up with discomfort before eventually sighing. you take his hand hesitantly. "fine."
marko, holding your hand in his, walks you under the boardwalk with the rest of the boys, his bike in the other hand. now away from the bright lights and loud crowds, the seven (including star and laddie) look at you expectantly—patiently.
"star mentioned i had a… nightmare, right?" paul nods as a confirmation—you saw him before telling the others. "it… it wasn't a normal nightmare. it felt so real. i, uh, was in the hangout spot alone, and michael found me," you gesture and shift your gaze to him, "you held me in this suffocating hug that made it hard to breathe. i mean, i could breathe, but i couldn't.
"and then marko showed up. he just started biting me and tearing into…" the group of vampires watch you trail off. you wonder if they can physically see you ready to throw up from even outwardly recalling the dream. "you get it. and then paul, then dwayne, and finally you, david," you choke out.
"i'm sorry—"
"no, dwayne, it's not even any of your faults. you don't have to apologize for anything. i'm overreacting," you argue, covering your eyes with your hand. you want to cry so badly it's making you fucking delusional.
david steps forward almost immediately. you're already so hot and flushed from the summer air that when he puts his arms around you, you're automatically overheated from the leather jacket he wore. this is the worst combination ever—you're upset, annoyed, sweaty, and worst of all, actually enjoying this hug.
"(name). i want you to listen to me when i tell you that we will never, i mean never, do that," he breathes out onto your shoulder. "i… we, love you. and don't take that lightly coming from me."
michael moves over, then the others, and soon enough, even star and laddie come over and squeeze you into one massive hug that makes your eyes almost pop out of your skull.
"we don't ever want you to feel like you're not safe. now please, start crying so we can kiss ya' and make you feel better," paul exclaims, making you laugh loudly.
"okay, okay... just give me some room to breathe. you all smell like you haven't showered in months."
Marko defiantly gives me the hunter/prey kink type. Look at him and tell me he wouldn't get off going full vamp while chasing down Paul or their shared s/o. Paul would probably get turned around in the fun and then join, but that just adds to the fun.
Paul and Marko also probably snap at each other in this stare BUT!! Also make out. If one catches you, honey you're getting bent over a log, your scent probably going wild for the other which ultimately causes you to get teamed
So I've been sucked into an obsession with Paul and Ringo.. I'm going to start writing for JUST these two for now so if there's any requests send them in! I've never written for them before so I'm excited!
No rules! Smut, fluff, angst, whatever, I write. Just no 'weird' kinks as well please
Think you could do Paul (x reader) from eddsworld, but if you don’t do him then just ignore this
thanks💙
I love him! I decided I'd do some general pre-relationship and relationship headcanons if that's fine? Feel free to send in another request if you want something else though, thank you for the ask!
requests are open!
Paul (Pre)Relationship HCs
🚬I definitely think he'd be a bit of an asshole, lol, especially during the pre-relationship stages in the dynamic. Paul is the kind of guy who deliberately acts prickly as a means of taunting, so if you're looking to get close with the guy, it's definitely going to be a rough road!
📘Essentially... he's just kind of a ragebaiter? If you catch him out and about while he's smoking, he'll approach you under the guise of whispering a super confidential secret into your ear-- He'll lean in, but only to blow a puff of smoke into your face and walk away, laughing so loudly for the entire world to hear.
🚬In a way, he's testing you. He wants to know what makes you tick and what's your limit with a jerk like him. Paul's denial and avoidance runs insanely deep, but, you'll win his heart if you stick around. Whether you're meek or polite, or even have a quip of your own, he really admires a stubborn attitude.
📘Soon, he'll grow a special fondness for you and eventually, it'll be blatant enough that Patryck and Tord would catch on too! Ever heard of parents telling you that those mean boys who tease you at the playground just actually have a secret crush on you? It's actually the case for him! He's horrible with expressing his affections without some teasing here and there.
🚬The type to hide your phone, pen, or any item if you leave the room, and shrug almost too casually if you ask him about it. If you're shorter than him, he'll keep items out of your reach (unless if you ask him with a polite please or, honestly, kick him in the shins instead). If you're taller, he'll poke or tickle your sides whenever you pass by each other. He'll do all of these with an annoying, but irritatingly charming grin!
📘But, of course, sometimes, he can take the teasing a little too far. With this, you get a delicious opportunity of giving him the silent treatment, just so obviously ignoring him and that makes him insane! Paul, when he's head over heels, really just wants your attention, even if he uses the most head-aching means to get it. He'll pretend to not care, and even try to one-up you himself, but in the end, it's him who folds first and begs for your forgiveness-- A very rare sight that Patryck would kill to see for himself!
🚬Moving past all the pining, courting, and whatnot (I could save that for another HC), He's fond of reading and has a specific interest in literature about war or rebellion-- It reveals a lot about his true self, actually.
📘Paul, even with his position, does not love the violence he has to enact or witness on the day-to-day basis. He's kind of a martyr, in the way that he thinks that what he's doing is necessary, so at the very least, no other innocent people-- such as yourself-- would have to do the things he has to do. On one particularly quiet and chilly night, he whispered to you, unprompted, that he would've really liked to be a historian if he could. He doesn't bring it up again.
🚬He's not the most physically nor verbally affectionate, but Paul does love spending most of his time with you, and doing things for you as well. If you're not exactly fond of his smoking habit, he'll try to do it a bit less-- He'll immediately put it out if he sees you near him while he's smoking. If ever, he substitutes the cigarette with a toothpick here and there.
📘He'll read to you if you're interested also. He's not the type to find prose nor poetry cheesy, he finds them quite respectable and has a few favourites. Paul also brings around a small notebook and pen to jot reminders and notes when he's out, but in his spare time when he thinks he's alone, he'll write short verses and poems about you-- Only Tord knows about this, though. He found out by complete, pure coincidence!
🚬It's easy to get off on the wrong foot with Paul in the beginning, but even an ass like him deserves a little love here and then-- He needs it, and he'll give it back to you gratefully-- tenfold!
Hi! Shorter one, but I put a lot of time into this one. I think I scrapped 8 different part 10's. Sorry, but I was having a hard time deciding what to do from here. I really wanted to time skip, but it didn't feel like I allowed her to fully recover or have any grieving period. Hopefully this helps showcase some of the incomplete transformation she underwent, and her deep grief for Aki.
The ash covered earth crumpled beneath your feet. Remnants of your life were scattered. Ash whipped, settling in your lungs and burning the edges of your eyes. Many days had passed, but the embers from your burnt village still scorched your soles as you trudged through what remained. The burn was a quiet comfort. A searing reminder that you weren’t fully dead.
Aki now rested in a remote corner of the ruined village. Aki’s final resting place lay at the river’s edge - once a haven for your love, now an earthy tomb he would never leave. With a heavy heart you approached the unmarked grave. The only indication of his final resting place was the disrupted soil. Aching legs slumped to the ground; the constant running was starting to catch up with you.
Cold hands kneaded the loose soil beneath your fingertips. Silent tears dripped slowly down your face. Above, a break in the clouds allowed a thin beam of moonlight to trickle down, catching the fallen tears on your hand. Sinking your hands deeper into the soil you allowed the earth to take your sorrow.
“Why did you have to leave me?”
No answer. The wind continued to rustle the bushes. The stream continued to flow. You sat hunched over gripping the earth. The dim moonlight glowed across your pale skin, illuminating you like a colourful predator against the night. Perhaps the wind spared you out of fear, of something no longer entirely human. It was possible Mother Nature avoided interrupting your grief out of respect, or maybe nature kept her distance. Nature becoming wary of the new scars that set you apart from the living world. The silence of everything was daunting. Your voice hung in the air so foreign, like a stranger in an unfamiliar town. You had never been so alone, never felt so weak.
“I wasn’t ready to lose you.”
Teeth chattering, your meek form curled into the soil where your husband now slept. Your arms burrowed deep into the rich soil. Held in a tender embrace, your body was finally surrendered to rest.
What if you are so busy you just stop writing anything, period. Anyhow, this is a little preview of Radio Static,
Your leg bounces nervously as you look at the clock, 7:30, then back at the glass to see the dickhead guy who was cutting in to your fucking air time, 7:31 fuck!
Pulling things out of your backpack as quickly as possible, surprisingly, you have a notebook and a pen, pinning the note to the glass, you scribble shittily, “Get OFF THE AIR,” turning the sign, you thwack it against the glass hard enough to get the guy's attention.
“Leave now,” you mouth through the glass, pointing at the sign, and the brown-haired average man sighs as much as physically possible. Finally, finally, at 7:33, the dulcet tones of this guy begin as he concludes his show.
Stuffing everything back into your bag, you run to the heavy door that separates the radio equipment from the station. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice 7:34. You pull on the heavy soundproofed door, rushing in, you bump into the inconsiderate douche 7:35
“Fuck" you groan before whipping around to the brown haired average man now dubbed anomalous host douche,
"My show is at 7:30, not 7:35, not 7:32, 7:30,” you explain slowly as you start moving backwards into the room. “You are supposed to be gone by the time im here do you know that?” you tilt your head condescendingly. 7:36
You turn around ignoring the heavy slam of the soundproof door to begin the erratic process of setting up the next two hours around the room, changing the blinding white lights into a dark pink, finding a pair of headphones from the hangboard where the leather isn't torn to shit, and grabbing a new mic cover because few people have been talking into the same one all day why wouldn't you change it.
You toss off your jacket, hearing it fall into some corner of the room, and slip the large headphones on. You adjust the audio levels, which were left too high! God anomalous host douche sucks finding your bag you force through the clutter quickly pulling out a cassette brand spanking new with a smile, slipping the too big headphones over your head, you watch the timer for the last song AHD left on, and with a breath you bring the mic to your mouth 0:03 0:02 0:01 Click.
“Good evening, Santa Carla. It is a lovely 82 degrees out. The waves are gnarly, and the boardwalk is in full swing. I am your charming host, Final Girl, and you are listening to Santa Carla Radio or….Scar for short".
