#most of the numbers stayed pretty consistent throughout the week

[charlescoded]

Do you like it when Max uses schat/schatje in fics?

The results are in, the poll has been closed, and we got a grand total of 606 votes! A massive thank you to anyone who voted, it's been very interesting to watch the votes change, and to read what people thought!

Disclaimer: Please do keep in mind that the results aren't that deep, this was just a simple poll created out of curiosity, and the results don't actually matter! <3

Anyway, here are the numbers written out:

In total, 70.8% of all the voters picked YES. This is about 429 of all people. For the people that picked NO, that's 29.2%, or about 177 people.

-

For those that don't understand Dutch, people are more in favour of yes. 56.4% of these people voted YES, which is approximately 342 people. 15.8% of people voted NO, which is approximately 96 people.

-

For those that do understand Dutch, it's pretty even. 14.4% voted for YES, approximately 87 people. 13.4% voted for NO, approximately 81 people.

[upon-a-starry-night]

Number Neighbors Pt.15

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4k

Summary:  When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

Natasha was right that you would be upset at her leaving. You always were. But this time you assured her you’d send her lots of messages and pictures even if she didn’t respond. 

And she admitted to you that she liked having something light to come back to. 

It was another typical night for Nat sleeping in a dingy hotel with three of her fellow Avengers who tended to snore. She wasn’t getting much consistent sleep which wasn’t unusual for her but she’d already had a bad evening. She and Steve had gotten into a pretty bad argument with Tony over some stupid government thing. He knew they wouldn’t want to do it but Nat could see that deep down he was scared so she understood him.

She just couldn’t go back to being anyone’s puppet again.

When she’d finally managed to dose off her mind was plagued with flashes of red and little girls and rows and rows of women standing in formation. A familiar face among them that she wasn’t ready to process just yet. 

Springing up in bed, she clutched the blanket at her chest, her breaths coming out in quiet but rapid succession. Guilt wracked her body and at times like this, she’d usually seek comfort in Clint or even ask Wanda to help her sleep but when the panic settled she felt the person she was seeking out the most was… You.

Although she didn’t know what you looked like, she pictured your rainbow pajama pants and your favorite duck socks. She imagined soft arms wrapping around her and urging her back to bed.

A sleepy soft voice talking to her about anything and everything until she dozed off. 

When she lay back down it was with the image of you next to her, and she fell asleep with you on her mind. 

It was the quickest she’d ever recovered from a nightmare and the best sleep she’d ever had while on a mission. 

The next day she finished her mission earlier than usual and if her fellow Avengers commented on it then it was simply because she wanted to get home faster and not because she’d dreamt of you all night and wanted to text you back immediately.

~~~~~~

You understood Nat still had work to do and thus would leave you for long periods again, but it still left ample time for your anxiety to creep in.

What if she did see you that night at the restaurant and this was her way of cutting you off because she thought you were ugly?

What if she was bored of your conversations and decided you weren’t worth it anymore?

At this point, you were waiting any day for the blocked notification to come up when you sent her pictures throughout your day.

So who could blame you if you were using dates with Leon as an excuse to get her off of your mind? 

Even if lately you didn’t feel anything with the guy you were with…

It was your third date of the week and honestly, you were a little bored. You’d been walking around New York listening to Leon talk for nearly an hour and the charm was starting to wear off. But anything was better than staying in your apartment all day refreshing your phone and overthinking everything you’ve ever sent.

When you rounded the corner arm in arm with Leon you were surprised to see a large crowd gathering a little further ahead. You didn’t know there was any kind of event happening today but to be fair you’d spent all of your time either with Leon or waiting for Nat to text back. Social media had been pushed to the back burner for a while, and if you were honest- your obsession with Black Widow had dwindled sufficiently in the last month. It was probably for the best, your mother was tired of constantly getting updates on where she was spotted in New York or what happened on their latest mission.

Now you had real people to focus on, like Nat, and Leon, and even one of your coworkers started asking you to hang out. 

Life was starting to feel a little less dull and you felt like you owed a lot of that to Nat.

Shaking your head you gripped Leon's arm a little tighter, there you go again thinking about Nat. It was impossible to get her out of your head when every little thing reminded you of her.

As Leon steers you in the direction of the gathering crowd you find yourself becoming anxious. Crowds haven’t been your specialty, especially not after-

A body bumps into yours as they push past you to run towards the crowd and suddenly you're thrown back to that moment four years ago when you were rushing out of that building.

You hear the sounds of people screaming which in reality is people cheering but your brain can’t tell the difference right now.

You look down at your hands and see your own blood staining them- the same way from that day.

The sound of alarms and hurried footsteps mix with the smell of sweat and dirt and suddenly you’re unable to catch your breath.

Another person bumps into you and you flinch, you're sure your eyes are wide with panic but you don’t know what to do. You hadn’t had an episode like this in a long time. You thought you’d finally gotten over it.

Slipping your arm from Leon’s you find you’re uncomfortable touching anyone and you can’t focus.

You try the different breathing and counting exercises your therapist taught you. 

It only helps a little.

Someone on a stage in some direction drops a microphone and the sound reminds you of the crumbling building next door. The ring of it is the ringing in your ear from the head trauma and loud explosions. You didn’t even realize your hands were covering your ears until you felt something pulling them away. You flinch at the contact, the voice is fuzzy and it’s hard to focus on the words.

“Hey” 

“Y/n?”

“Can- you he- me?”

“What's- Going-”

When the ringing stops and you hear someone laugh out an apology over a speaker system things get a little less cloudy.

Your eyes shoot from the ground into dark brown concerned eyes and you feel wetness slipping down your face.

Embarrassment floods your system and you find yourself unable to make eye contact

“Can we just get out of here please?”

Leon observes you for a second before nodding his head, slipping his hand into yours, and pulling you away. You don’t comment that you don’t feel like being touched. You don’t have the energy to. You just need to get far away from here.

“I know this really great ice cream place?”

You nod your head and let him lead you. You weren’t really hungry but you’d take any quiet place right about now.

Two blocks down you can still hear the crowd but it’s a lot quieter than before, Leon opens the door to a Mint and Salmon-colored Ice cream shop and you walk in. The sound of the bell drowns out the sound of the announcer before the door shuts to blissful silence.

~~

“Okay, everyone! Now what you’ve all been waiting for- The Avengers!!”

Nat fakes a smile as she walks out onto the stage. She was going to kill Tony for stealing her phone and putting a firewall on it to blackmail her into doing this event. It wasn’t like she hated doing these things but they’d only just gotten back from their mission and they only had the chance to shower and change before they came here. 

Tony truly was the asshole of all assholes. 

She had been scrolling through the pictures you’d sent when Tony snatched her phone from her hands, dangling it in front of her and telling her she couldn’t text her “new boy toy” until she smiled for the press and signed a few autographs.

Crowds were also notorious for crimes, and although Tony had security stationed everywhere that didn’t mean it still wasn’t easy to commit a crime in this environment- it was a hotspot for pickpockets and some adult fans could get a little too aggressive or handsy. Anyone could be dangerous- she would know, she’s been ‘part of the crowd’ plenty of times.

Still, the little hopeful faces of all the children in the crowd were part of the reason she hadn’t murdered Tony on the spot for making her do this. The kids looked up to her like she was the greatest thing in the world, the ones who saw her as a hero and didn’t know about her past.

She wonders how many of those kids will grow up to read about all the red in her ledger and despise her for it.

So she wasn’t having the best time. She’d much rather be coddled up in her room reading a book or training in the gym.

For a second she wonders what you’re up to today, if you’ve texted her any pictures since she checked. It’s a beautiful Saturday afternoon, perfect weather, the kind of day you’d want to spend outside. The kind of day she’d spend convincing you to go outside and laughing when you sent her a frowny face you’d made out of fallen leaves.

She would get more time to text you or listen about your more than odd work experiences if Tony wasn’t constantly bugging her about this government thing.

You seemed more occupied in the days she was gone. You sent her more pictures of things outside than of your coffee table and TV screen. She would take you anywhere you wanted if she ever met you. 

She’s glad to see you’re getting out more on your own though, and if it has something to do with this Leon guy…

Scanning the crowd she observes all the women she can see. Most are ogling Steve and Tony, some of them are looking at her with jealousy over how close to Steve she’s standing. She nudges him in the shoulder just to rile them up and she swears a few of them breathe fire. It makes her chuckle.

A few of the women look at her with awe, and she wonders if maybe one of those faces is you. You did say you were a fan of hers. 

Would you be at an event like this?

With that in mind, she begins analyzing every single woman in the crown. Searching for your favorite colors, your favorite shows on any shirts, any sign of you in every woman.

But for some distinct reason, she gets the feeling that you’re not there.

~~~~

“Why are you always taking pictures while we’re out?” snapping another cute picture of your ice cream you put your phone down and turn to Leon. You had been snapping plenty of pictures of random things to send to Nat while you’d been on your dates with Leon. You were honestly surprised he hadn’t asked earlier.

Maybe he thought it was a girl thing.

“I’m just sending pictures to my friend” The word feels weird in your mouth for the second time “We don’t hang out much so I send her updates of what I do all day” You frown as you see the 'seen' notification on your other messages but no bubbles pop up “honestly I think she’s getting tired of it…”

A hand on your shoulder makes you jolt and you try and relax when you realize it’s only Leon again. His hand rubs circles on your shoulder and you're surprised at how irritated you are at the action. The Y/n from a few weeks ago probably would have been giddy at all this physical affection but lately, it just doesn’t feel right. You don’t have the heart to tell Leon that though

“I don’t think anyone could grow tired of you, maybe she’s just busy?” Slipping his hand from your shoulder to your hand he begins tugging you out of the ice cream shop and into the busy sidewalk. Whatever event was going on earlier had died down and you’d finally recovered from your attack.

Leon begins lightly swinging your arms back and forth as you walk back in the direction of your apartment

“Does she live nearby? If she’s busy at work maybe we could surprise her?”

The idea of surprising Nat puts a smile on your face but you don’t even know where she lives, or if she’d even want to meet you. The smile slowly slips off of your face and your stomach turns with anxiety and disappointment

“No, she… you’re right she’s probably too busy”

When you get home you schedule another appointment with your therapist for the anxiety and PTSD… and for the excessive overthinking.

~~~

A few days later the doorbell rings and you internally cringe. Opening the door you're not even surprised when you see the third deliveryman this week. You accept the bouquet of roses with a half smile and then shut the door in his face. 

You’ve been declining dates with Leon ever since Nat came back from work and he seems to think you’re mad at him or something so he’s been sending you bouquets of roses every few days to ask you out.

You know it’s not fair to him when he doesn’t know why you’ve gone quiet all of a sudden but you can’t help the fact that you wished you were on dates with someone else.

Someone you’ve never even seen or met but desperately long for.

The first time Leon got you flowers in your relationship was cute and had you blushing for days. Although you were a bit embarrassed opening the door in your sweats and hoodie, the delivery kid didn’t seem to mind as he handed you a large bouquet and a cute little handwritten note. 

You were so excited about it that you texted Nat to gush right away.

     Nat🔪:

Y/n🍦:

He got me roses!!

The response was immediate as always.

Nat🔪:

But…Y/n,

Roses aren’t your favorite flower?

Nat didn’t mean to kill your excitement but she couldn’t help but feel a little upset that you were getting so excited over a bouquet of flowers that weren’t even your favorite.

A few irrational minutes later her thumb hovered over the ‘purchase order’ button on her phone. Finding some kind of satisfaction in knowing you better and one-upping his gesture. 

But she came to the unfortunate realization that she wasn’t supposed to know where you live. And it wasn’t like she could have you thinking he got you those flowers. So she canceled the order and settled for the hesitant excuses you made for him not knowing your favorites.

That in and of itself should have brought her at least some satisfaction but instead, she just found herself angry that you weren’t being treated as well as you should be. She knew she could do so much better. She could treat you so much better than him.

But she was a coward.

~~

You put the flowers on the counter, not bothering to find another vase you knew you didn’t have. Whatever initial excitement you’d had when you first met Leon had vanished and you think it was because of Nat.

She’d taken over every single aspect of your life and you didn’t really mind, because you liked Nat… A lot.

Shit.

Pt 16

-Sorry to whoever's favorite flowers are roses they were just the most generic flower I imagined a guy would pick~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723

[shytastemakerthing]

Hi! I noticed your matchups were open and I wanted to have ab romantic MHA matchup pls? I'm an Asian minor who uses she/they pronouns and an Aquarius . My sexuality is bi demiromantic (male preference). I'm 5'0 with tan skin, black hair, brown eyes and glasses.I'm bilingual. People say I look unapproachable since I don't smile or talk much around strangers. I'll need to warm up to people but when I do, I will surprisingly be energetic, talkative and VERY sentimental.

I consider myself a fair, open minded and laid back person most of the time. I like to seek out my friends' company when bored.I'm down to do anything with my friends. I'm hardworking if its something that interests me. I'm very creative but can't seem to make my ideas into reality mostly due to lack of resources or motivation. Idk myself too well so I consistently ask for opinions. I'm pretty emotional and can be a bit sensitive when there's a lot of build up but I try my best to hide it.

My friends describe my  sense of humor as dark and cursed. I can be mischievous and chaotic but still reliable and smart.My hobbies are baking,gaming,art, true crime and supernatural stuff. I express my love with gifts and quality time but still physically affectionate. I get flustered easily. My ideal type is someone who I can trust with my life, very respectful of my boundaries, protective and honest even if its brutal. Sorry if its too much info. Thanks in advance and stay safe💗

Hello and thank you for your request! I am finally able to get these going, just 2 more weeks of classes and finally my schedule will be cleared!

There were a couple ideas that I had as to who you would match with the most but there was one in particular that stood out the most to me!

Tw: None

I match you with..........

Tokoyami Fumikage

Mr. dark and brooding himself. After reading through your initial information, you both seem like a pair that would get along rather well for a plethora of reasons.

From what I have seen, he isn't the most outgoing with the rest of his peers. Not to say he is reclusive, he has his friends, it's just this vibe I get from him.

He would certainly be into the supernatural the same as you. Have you seen his room?

It's been the hang out spot for the both of you a number of times throughout the time you two have been together, even before

Tokoyami rather enjoys that you are a more open-minded individual. It's not often that he sees people like that, especially in the society that you are both living in.

When it comes to you having problems with motivation or lacking the proper materials, he makes it his personal mission to be able to help you with such a feat. Even Dark Shadow wants to help!

Speaking of Dark Shadow.....

ABSOLUTELY LOVES YOU

Aside from Tokoyami (after much practice and training), you are one of the very few who is able to calm Dark Shadow down, he has a soft spot for you

And yes, he has poked fun at Tokoyami on more than one occasion when it came to his affection for you

Though this was more before you both got together and was quite literally screaming at Tokoyami to make a move already

Both of them are highly protective if you, whether you have a quirk or not or able to defend yourself. As your partner, he wants you to know that he will be there to help you and take care of you

He is an honest man, and there are times he is rather blunt in this, but he means the best, he really does. That is also something you don't have to worry about with him.

Overall, Tokoyami loves you for you. He is respectful of any and all boundaries that you have set up and will call out others should they cross a line. You are his partner, and that is something that he does not take lightly.

Thank you for your request!

[allthemusic]

Week ending: 2nd May

Only one song this week, but I think I know it? It's a classic number by Nat King Cole, whose gentle, smooth style has stayed a constant throughout the 1950s so far, even as other artists have started rocking and rolling. It's the polar opposite of last week's artists, and honestly, I'm glad it exists, as a more mature, classy type of song.

When I Fall in Love - Nat King Cole (peaked at Number 2)

We start with some soft, cinematic strings, including a properly classical-sounding bit of cello and a harp! It's thick and lush, but never quite heavy enough to overpower the singing, once the singing starts - we're not quite in Mantovani territory, though we cut it pretty close.

Thankfully, everything dies back a bit for the opening line, which it turns out I know, as Nat sings about how When I fall in love / It will be forever. Which I always just assumed was the point of the song, that Nat's a romantic and intends to fall in love forever. But it turns out it's a song about his reluctancy to commit. He'll fall in love forever, or not at all, and he's all too quick to recognise that In a restless world like this is / Love is ended before it's begun / And too many moonlight kisses / Seem to cool in the warmth of the sun. Yikes! Cynical much!

Joking aside, I like the uncertainty of it all- Nat will either give his heart completely or not at all, and he's looking for somebody else who feels the same way, who's equally committed. And I like that the song doesn't ever quite come down on the side of saying that he 100% is going to find that person. Nat might just never fall in love, you know? There's always a chance that things don't pan out, and I like that the song at least acknowledges that.

I needn't say here that we're miles away from the youthful exuberance of last week's songs. There's a maturity to the lyrics here, a nuance and a complexity that Frankie and Tab just can't quite muster. And rightly so. They're young and having fun, while Nat's more of an experienced, seasoned veteran, which is what lets this song land properly. That, and the calm, soothing sound of his voice, which just oozes ease and affection, and helps sell me on the slightly grandiose claims that Nat's making.

That said, while Nat brings a lot to the song, it does look like it's actually covered by everyone and anyone. Most intriguingly there's a Doris Day version, which I think could genuinely be pretty great. And it was originally an instrumental theme from a 1952 film, which doesn't entirely surprise me, actually - there's something very cinematic about the strings and orchestration. The film's called One Minute to Zero and is about a soldier and UN aid worker falling in love during the Korean War. Honestly, it looks pretty propagandistic, but the tune's a banger.

Hmmm. Nat's one of those artists who hasn't ever really changed his style, isn't he? This could have been a Nat King Cole hit at just about any point from the 1930s to the 1960s, and to be fair, it is rather lovely, plus it reached Number 2, so whatever he's doing, it's clearly working. I've got to wonder who's driving that, at this point, demographically. I can't imagine the teens going out to buy this en masse, somehow, but clearly Nat still has his fans somewhere in the population. And honestly, the lack of change might be part of the appeal. There's a constancy to Nat, a consistency that's reassuring, or even nostalgic - faced with all these rock and roll tunes, at least you know what you're letting yourself in for, in a song like this.

Favourite song of the gentle, slightly sleepy bunch: When I Fall in Love

[thefanficmonster]

omg, headcanons for a goth (not egirl) reader x corpse? i love love love ur writing 🗝

Corpse Husband x Reader (Gender Neutral for the most part but there are some elements that hint to a female reader - feel free to skip those or modify them to your liking)

OMFG DEFINITELY!! Thank you so much for your request, dear! Hope you enjoy the headcanons! XOXO, Vy 💌

- He was intrigued by you the moment he saw you

- Let me correct myself: virtually saw you

- Yeah, you heard that right

- You spotted his attention while he was on videocall with Dave who was facetiming him from VidCon 2019 to offer him some type of a con experience

- The man wasted no time opening an investigation on you right away

- I mean who wouldn’t?!?!?

- You stuck out so much and in such a positive way with your style derailing off the colorfulness of the clothes the people around you were wearing

- Your black and white gown decorated with chains dangling here and there was a dead giveaway that you were the moment that day

- And you were! He had caught sight of you right after your panel for which you had worn the specially made gown

- But not only that, your hair was a story of its own - still is!

- It’s still evenly colored in black and white, making a wonderful effect whenever you spin/twirl

- Yeah, no one can blame Corpse for opening the aforementioned investigation which mainly consisted of asking Dave who you were

- I just want to add, he thought he did that quite casually, but if you ask Dave he can confirm that he sounded like a very nervous schoolboy.

- He’d never admit to it though

- After getting your name and the name of your YouTube channel, he went on a bit of a binge watching spree for a few days

- Props to the guy, you have quite the number of videos on your channel

- Eventually, however, he managed to get up the courage to finally comment on one of said videos and stop lurking

- To be fair, you had noticed him the same day when, after a lot of back-and-forth with himself, he started following you on Instagram and Twitter and also joined on of the Twitch streams you had recorded throughout the VidCon week

- And to the aforementioned comment, much to his relief, he got a friendly reply

- You two hit it off quite well before moving onto DMs and Discord

- It did take a while to finally get on a VC together, both of you shy blobs couldn’t find it in you to do it

- But once you did, you practically never texted again

- And when you finally hopped on a video call was also the day he asked you to be his girlfriend

- Damn straight you said yes

- When you went on a vacation to San Francisco, you stayed with him the whole time which resulted in some bomb pics of the two of you (with Corpse’s face out of the frame of course)

- You often styled him with your accessories and makeup which - as jealous as you are - you’ll admit he pulled off quite nicely

- “You know, maybe the goth style has been made for me!”

- “Don’t get ahead of yourself, pretty boy.”

@maat-the-prescriptive  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @itsminniekat  @hacker-ghost  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios  @maehemscorpyus  @loraleiix  @letsloveimagines  @annshit  @i-cant-choose-a-username-help  @enigmaticmaze  @divine-artemis  @waterlilypat  @idontknowwhatthisisfam  @evi-ka  @classyandfabulous00  @redperson58  @lilysdaydreams @solowheein  @mythicalamphitrite  @axen-gers  @luckygirl144  @nj01  @buddyemily   @the-albino-lioness  @stardream14  @gdhdkfnn  @nomadicgypsyy  @preciousskye  @fluffysuicideunicornsworld  @o-kaelin  @manacharlotte  @awkward-youtube-trash  @lolalee24  @bonky-beerns  @meme-lord-and-savior-sebastian  @strawbrinkofdeath  @teenloves  @tams0527  @browneyespinkhair  @starstruckllamapuppy  @daisychains012  @y0ulooked  @tinytacosuitcaseflap @supernatural-is-my-only-life  @jula-pauline  @melodykitty  @just-that-bi-girl  @crazybutconfidentaf  @lowellshade @alphakees  @bellero  @weallneednamjesus  @starryhanji  @boiled-onionrings  @husherstan  @fockingwhore  @melaningoddessthings  @prettypastelpetals  @haleypearce  @godwhyamiawkward  @y-napotat  @daisychainyoonmin  @little-miss-rebel3  @free-wheelin-bi-sexual  @redmoon261 @darkacademic2  @wiseflamingoqueen  @into-the-end  @namikhai-i  @nastiablr  @thelittleplantlover  @mirktuan  @dont-hyuck @jjk-bunny  @vintagegothlover  @easygoingtheatre  @itsrandombooklover  @miiaivi  @emmybaybee  @befourgolden  @jjk-is-my-shit  @eternalteaaars  @spacebadgerx  @princesslunalight  @acequinn14  @samm48  @misselsbells06 @simp-lykawa  @fo-love  @marishimomura-blog  @therealglenncoco  @cinnamonbun332  @killtherandomness  @sanshinexxxsan  @fee-btheweeb  @press-lay  @cathleenpotgieter16  @jazzydoesstuff  @moonlxghtbay  @forestrain2000  @hyunjinhugs  @blood-of-fandoms  @lovellylies  @ukiyolixx  @simpforhpcharacters  @chrisdylan17  @parkerjisung  @pedernille  @theodonyous  @wineandionysus  @malfoystilinskii05  @morbid-x  @coryisagee  @jessewa26  @scoobydooluver97 @mindintheskies365  @raeanneinwonderland  @indecisive-empanada  @gluttonypalace  @loriane2503  @btsiguess-kpop  @khaoticbunny  @lucidlycactus  @smiithys  @rottenroyalebooks  @kpopgirlbtssvt  @fangirl-tc27  @fr0z3n-1  @notmesimpingfortechno  @shotarosleftpinky  @kunoi-chan  @idk-whats-wrong-with-me  @yikeroonie  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @poetry-and-tea  @ama-do-writing-stuff  @wishbonewolf  @emeraldxhope  @t0xick1tty  @kusuinko  @speakyourselfloveyourself  @sophia902103  @lo-manburg  @classsykittykat  @dmgama  @depressedpuppythatneedscoffee  @btsiguess-kpop  @akaashi-baby  @gun-jong-simp  @geschichtenfee  @yerapotato-wp  @browneyedgirl365  @thysagclub  @sparklycloudnight  @helloatomicshadow  @queentorresstuff @vtte @val-gal  @lucy-bunny17  @aaliyahh0  @katluckybear  @boyleanti  @straybids  @franchesca-791  @cosmicstorm19  @averyisbackinthetrashcan  @aomi-nabi  @xlanawriter  @allensimpsforcorpse  @sunnyrae-cessh  @ladykxxx08  @meowiemari  @renupf  @booklover76  @sra-verissimo  @beatrhizn  @blueberrystigma  @beatrhizn  @chicken-taco-burrito  @scorpio-echo  @nyctophiliiiiaaa  @squirreljoe   @azra-x  @ace-of-spaids2

[meetmymouth]

ooh I think #7 and #17 from the blurb list would fit very well together! if you want!

THANK YOU LINDS <3<3

prompt list here, send a number!!

#7 If we both want to fit, we’ll have to cuddle

#17 Sleeping in the same bed for the first time

THIS IS 3K IM SORRY I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF SO PLEASE REBLOG LMAOOOOOO!!!!!

"This is my room," comes a gruff voice behind you as you keep looking out the window, taking in the greenery and the beautiful ocean.

See, you knew he would be here.

You knew, because Harry and Mitch were attached at the hip, and you didn't mind. You didn't mind seeing your ex every time you were invited to hang out with MitchandSarah & co, except when said ex decided to be an evil arsehole.

Perhaps, calling him an "ex" was weird, seeing how your time alone only consisted of you both getting high, mostly naked as he whispered the filthiest things in your ear and promised to make you feel good, be the best you've ever had. Other than that, though, he was an insufferable bastard. Since you never hung out with the man without your friends around–getting rat-arsed and high... and the activities that followed aside–, you didn't know if he was always this annoying.

He seemed to be getting along just fine with the others, especially Sarah and the other girls, so you had no problems scratching off the "women hater" off your list. And you can't ever recall him being this insufferable while you both were fucking which was, in his case, miserable. So, it was definitely annoying. You weren't that interested in him to think that he was being mean because he was secretly in love with you. That was a myth, a pathetic myth, wasn't it? No, you wouldn't steep that low. He was just an arse, full stop.

You turn around with an eye-roll, and within seeing his face, you nearly clench your fists like a ten-year-old. "Do you live here?" You ask, hoping the boring expression on your face is also detectable in your tone.

It's certainly not a surprise when Harry scoffs.

"I don't, but I picked this room first. Since, you know," he looks around, and walks further into the room, finally stopping at the feet of the bed. "You were late. As per."

"Oh fuck off. This isn't summer camp. Besides, I don't see any of your shit around. The room was empty when I arrived."

"If you bothered to look inside the wardrobe..."

Seriously, you find yourself thinking, how the fuck did you ever end up with this man. Naked.

There's a commotion downstairs, so you both turn to the door, but much to your dismay, there's no one coming to check up on you and hopefully, save you from Harry Styles' pathetic gob.

You turn towards the window again, eyes squinting briefly at the last bits of sunshine that's glinting from between the branches.

"Well. You shouldn't have left then. You weren't here when I arrived."

Harry shakes his head, and you swear you can see his nostrils flaring if you look carefully. Though, you just watch him with a smug smile on your face as he walks to the wardrobe and pulls open the white doors. True to his word, his clothes are there, perfectly folded, and for a moment you feel a pang of guilt before you look back up at his face and see the furrowed eyebrows.

"See. My clothes. I'm sure Sarah will sort it out for you, find you another room or summat."

"There's only three bedrooms. Can't sleep with a pregnant woman and her boyfriend, can I?"

"What about Rachel and David? Aren't you best friend's with her?"

"Harry, you're ridiculous. Just–" you wipe the sweat off of your forehead, feeling yourself grow hotter and hotter each passing minute. "–just sleep on the sofa. This is my first vacation this year. You go on holidays every week or so. Let us commoners have this."

"Oh, please. Didn't you have a girls weekend getaway or whatever the fuck in Soho Farmhouse two weeks ago?"

You can't help the scoff that leaves your mouth, and a raised eyebrow follows. "How do you know about that?"

"Because," he rolls his eyes, and slams the wardrobe shut. "You post seven hundred stories every day."

"You're a stalker."

"You sleep on the sofa."

You smirk, noticing how he avoided your previous statement.

To be fair, you hated posting on your story. Though, knowing Harry followed you on Instagram made posting on there fun, and seeing his username on the list of who watched your stories pop up at the very top every single time whenever you posted a story almost made you let out a mingy little laugh and rub your hands together, and scream "gotcha!".

"I won't."

"You're getting on my nerves."

"What a coincidence," you ignore the stare he's sending your way and walk towards your carry on, and start taking the contents out one by one, laying everything on the bed.

He watches with a scowl on his face, arms crossed across his chest, and a satisfied smile paints your features as you take out the toiletries bag next.

"Are you seriously unpacking right now?" Harry cranes his neck so he can see better. He looks ridiculous, standing in the middle of the room with arms crossed, but you refrain from saying anything.

In fact, you don't even answer him. Perhaps, you find yourself thinking, it was silly to unpack your underwear first. It wasn't as if you brought super "sexy" shit or lace everything. You can definitely feel his gaze watching your every movement as you take everything out carefully and place them on top of each other. With most of your underwear in hand, you get on one knee in front of the bedside table and open the drawer, placing everything inside and it's surprising how he hasn't claimed the bedside table yet.

"Look," he sighs. "I'll talk to Sarah, maybe you can sleep with her and Mitch–"

"–don't be stupid we're not making them sleep with other people because you can't be a gentleman and sleep on the sofa."

"Oh for fuck's sake," he growls, and you finally look at him, eyebrows raised in hopes of making him feel as stupid as he sounds right now. Unfortunately, though, he continues, "Okay, damn it, I'll sleep on the floor."

Fool.

"Common sense, Harry. Always pick sofa. No matter what."

"Were you born to make my life a living hell?"

"Look," you sit on the bed, and look around. "This is boring me to death. I'm sleeping on the bed. If you shut your gob, you can sleep with me on the bed."

Harry lets out an obnoxious laugh. "Just admit I was here first and you didn't bother checking the–"

"Yes, I didn't and what about it? I'm here now, aren't I? I'm on the bed, babes. Anyway," you get on your feet, and with one last look at him, you start walking towards the door. "I'll see you in a bit. I guess."

You both manage to avoid each other as much as you can throughout the day, and really, it wasn't that hard considering the good company of your friends, good food and good alcohol. You mainly helped Sarah and Rachel in the kitchen as the men lounged on the sun loungers, Mitch handling the grill and David helping you guys with the drinks that came in and out of the house pretty quickly with the way you lot consumed them like water.

You spend the night eating, laughing and drinking, sometimes singing along to whatever song played on David's fancy Bluetooth speaker, and everyone begins ushering inside with full bellies and most of them–except the very pregnant Sarah–with a tipsy smile on their faces.

You leave before Harry though, leaving him smoking his last cigarette by the pool while you run up the stairs and into the room, closing the door behind you. You quickly get rid of the romper and get your favourite pyjamas on, eyes searching for the orange makeup bag so you can take off the remaining makeup before bed. You knew it was silly not to do your night routine, but you still zip the bag closed with a sad expression on your face, not wanting to see your toner and night cream any more than you needed to as you throw it on the floor next to your bags. It's pathetic really, how determined you are to get in the bed before Harry can that you forego your whole routine and stick to some cotton pads. Though, plugging your charger and getting between the cool sheets make you forget all about it as you let out a sigh, and unlock your phone to do your nightly scroll before falling asleep.

As you double tap on a selfie, the door opens, and you hear him scoff, again. You keep scrolling though, and try to sneak a few glances at him as he makes a beeline for the wardrobe, and to your surprise, begins to undress. You try to stay calm, and not to think about how domestic this whole thing seems; being in the same room as him as he gets ready for bed.

Right, getting ready for bed.

You keep your eyes on your phone as his clothes hit the floor one by one, and when you look up briefly, he's got a pair of joggers on, and he's throwing the clothes he had on in the wardrobe.

He turns around, and find your gaze, and he rolls his eyes.

"I knew you'd be in bed, here, as soon as I heard someone running. Forgot you were a literal five-year-old," he mutters under his breath, loud enough so you can still hear him. "I'm not sleeping on the sofa."

"I love how you're basically arguing with yourself."

"Like I said, I'm not sleeping on the sofa. I didn't come all the way to sleep on a bloody sofa."

"Suit yourself. I guess we're sharing. Unless," you lock your phone, and place it on the bedside table. "You want to share," you shrug, adjusting your pillow and sigh at the cool fabric against your hot cheeks.

You can feel him thinking, the wheels turning in his head, and you finally hear the floorboards creek underneath his feet as he walks closer to the bed, and pushes the sheets off of you. The whole thing.

You blink in surprise. "Stop it, dude! What the fuck."

"I'm getting in! Fuck's sake, be quiet."

"You did that just to annoy me."

You're both quiet for a minute, Harry taking his rings off and then comes his socks, and he finally copies you, laying on his back on the bed. He covers the both of you, though you know it's not intentional since he couldn't do it without covering his own body with the duvet, and then he lets out a strangled sigh.

"The bed's too small."

"Are you calling me fat?"

"What?" He turns his face to you, and perhaps it's the first time he's looking at you– really looking.

His brows are furrowed, and lips turned downwards in a pout.

"I'm taking the piss, Harry. I know you're not calling me fat."

"Good," he says, though his voice isn't exactly soft. "I wouldn't."

"Good."

Silence.

It's unbearable.

Despite the hot weather, you feel yourself shiver, and you wish you were the only one in bed so you could do the whole burrito technique with the duvet. Alas... you stay where you are. You both do.

A dog barks in the distance, the high-pitched bark coming through the open window, and you can feel Harry breathing too fast beside you. You want to shout at him, tell him to fuck off and... not breathe too fast, though it sounds a bit too rude even for you, so you stay silent and wait for the dog to pipe the fuck down.

You try to turn on your side, because you could never see yourself fall asleep laying on your back like a vampire, but you almost fall, not anticipating the tiny space you've got going on. It's bad, and you know you're not going to get a good sleep. So, you find yourself contemplating about getting up and sleeping on the sofa because honestly, fuck him.

Harry shuffles next to you, presumably trying to find a good position to sleep in himself, but he lets out a groan and it startles you.

"What's wrong with you!"

"The bed's too fucking small."

"We've established that."

He sniffs, hands clenching the sheets around his body. "I don't sleep on my back. My back hurts."

You don't say anything, hoping for him to just get up and leave, go sleep on the sofa. He doesn't, though. It's another fifteen minutes before you let out another sigh, trying to get comfortable on the bed, and Harry copies you. You both turn on your sides, facing each other and Harry groans when your knee makes contact with his thigh, making you cringe in embarrassment. A quiet sorry leaves your mouth and he shakes his head, then turns the other way, facing the door.

"Fuck," he spits after a minute. "If we both want to fit, we'll have to cuddle."

"Cuddle? Fuck no."

"Just," he turns to you again, but the bed is too small for you both so his knees touch yours. "Just come closer. Either that, or go sleep on the sofa."

"Why don't you–"

"You're so stubborn! Come closer, I won't eat you or fall in love with you. Fuck."

You groan, but oblige for some reason, feeling your heart beginning to beat faster for some ridiculous reason.

It's been a long time, you find yourself trying to convince your heart. It's been a long, long time since you've been this close to a human being. Too long since you've cuddled with someone, so obviously you were going to feel a little excited, and weird. Yes, definitely weird.

You get closer and he lifts up his arm, you both sharing a look before you roll your eyes and place your hand on his wrist, placing it on your hip. He's quiet, eyes searching yours, and the crease between his brows are gone, and you want to laugh, because who knew it only took your skin against his to wipe that stupid grimace off of his face.

"I still think you're annoying," Harry mumbles, clearly sleepy. His hold on your hip becomes tighter as his thumb strokes your skin over the fabric.

"I know. Just shut up and sleep."

[uvobreakmylegs]

The Sixth Floor Game

heavy inspiration from the Elevator Game, as well as the Three Kings Game and a little bit of Silent Hill 3

demon!Shalnark

Warnings: blood, death, kidnapping

The Sixth Floor Game is a ritual that will put you into contact with otherworldly forces and, if done correctly, can take you to a world that exists outside of our own. To play this game, you must follow all of the instructions that have been written below. Take care to remember all of them, as one mistake could result in death.

First you must enter a dark and empty building that has an elevator and only five floors in between the times of 3 and 4 AM. The only items you can bring with you are a fully charged cellphone, an item of sentimental value to you and an offering for the demon.

It is not recommended that you give an offering that bares any resemblance to that of a clown or magician.

When you enter the elevator, you need to ride it up to the 5th floor and leave the offering just outside the elevator doors and then head back down to the 3rd floor. When you reach the 3rd floor, you then need to exit the elevator and use your phone to call the last person in your call history. The game begins when you call that number.

When the line is picked up, you must say “I want to visit the 6th floor”.

Be warned that at this point you may hear strange noises on the other end, as calling the number at this time and place has put you in contact with a demon. It is possible to gauge whether the demon is happy with your offering or not based off the things he may say, if anything at all. Do not hang up on the demon; you will go back up the elevator when he hangs up on you.

There are three possibilities awaiting you when you go back to the 5th floor to see what has happened to your offering.

If the demon doesn't care for your offering but hasn't been upset by it, you will find it in the same place as you left it outside the elevator. You must then collect the offering, go back down to the first floor and leave the building.

If the demon has been offended by your offering, you will find the offering destroyed in some way. Leave the building immediately if you find this, as it means that the demon is angry with you and will try to kill you if you stay too long.

But if the demon likes your offering, there will be no trace of it when you get back up to the 5th floor. If this has happened, you must close the elevator doors and then hit the button for the 5th floor again. This time, instead of the doors opening again, the elevator will begin to move up, taking you to a 6th floor that shouldn't exist.

The amount of time it will take to reach the 6th floor varies from person to person, but it should not take longer than two minutes.

When you reach the 6th floor, you will find yourself in another world. Accounts of what this other world looks like also varies from person to person. Some have said that the floor they entered was run down and wrecked to pieces in some parts. Others have said that the floor didn't look any different from the other floors. Regardless of the state of the floor, the one thing that is consistent is a giant glowing red cross that can be seen if you look outside. You will see nothing else outside aside from the cross.

It is not recommended that you to try to open any windows or try to climb down the building.

You are free to explore this other world until you are ready to leave. It does not matter how long you stay in the other world. When you want to leave you must simply walk back to the elevator and hit the button for the first floor. It is possible that you may come across the offering that you left for the demon earlier while you explore.

Do not take the offering back; it now belongs to the demon.

Reality on the 6th floor can be distorted and you may find yourself becoming confused. If you find yourself entering into such a state, take out the sentimental item you brought and focus on it. It will keep you from losing yourself and allow you to continue as you explore the other world.

Above all else, while exploring the other world, you must never look behind you. Even though the demon may have liked your offering, he also likes trickery and will try to make you turn around to look at him by making noise or by speaking to you. If you look at the demon you will be unable to leave the 6th floor and he will keep you there forever as he has claimed you as his.

It is not recommended that you speak to the demon even if you don't look at him.

Regardless of the outcome of your offering, when you have returned to the 1st floor you must exit the building and you cannot enter the building again for any reason until the time is 6 AM.

If you have upset the demon with your offering, it is not recommended that you try the game again.

There is no reward for playing this game. There is only the experience of leaving this world and venturing to one beyond our own.

This game is dangerous and could result in the death of the player, so please consider the possible outcomes of playing before you decide to do so.

You finished reading aloud the instructions displayed on the sketchy-looking site and looked to your friend Farah, who had her hands clasped together as she looked hopefully at you and the rest of your group who had gathered in her apartment.

“Well?” she asked after a moment, “what do you think?”

“.... Why does a demon have a phone?” you asked.

“Yeah and what phone company does he use?” Cliff asked after you, “or do demons have their own phone companies.”

“You're missing the point!” Farah exclaimed.

“And the point is....?”

“We need to try this!”

There was a collective groan throughout the apartment. The other one in the group, Carmen, rubbed their forehead as they told Farah “you're our friend and we love you, but I don't think any of us want to repeat that time we tried summoning ghosts in a public bathroom.”

“This is nothing like that!” Farah insisted, “it said that we need a building with five floors and an elevator! I promise, there won't be anything gross!”

“Where do we get a building like that?” Carmen asked.

Farah pointed to Cliff.

“You work security overnight at that one office building, right?”

“Do you seriously think I'm going to risk my job for this?” he asked.

“We won't do anything bad! We'll just play a game and leave some stuff on the top floor. If the demon doesn't like it we'll take it with us. It's literally in the rules that we need to clean up after ourselves.”

Farah stopped herself, but you could tell she wanted to continue about getting a chance to visit another world. She loved the supernatural and those kinds of urban legends, but she never wanted to try these things on her own.

Carmen sighed.

“Is anyone else even remotely interested in trying this?” they asked.

Neither you or Cliff said anything at first, and Farah's face began to fall as no one volunteered. Then, when it looked like Carmen was about to speak again, you tentatively raised your hand.

“It might be fun,” you said. At least in terms of memories of 'dumb shit you did when you were younger'.

Farah beamed while Carmen gave you a look that screamed 'I hate you'.

With you willing to give the game a chance, the other two ended up conceding to do the same, and Cliff had been convinced by Farah to let you all in a week from that day when he worked at that particular building. With his shift being 11 PM to 7 the next morning, there would be plenty of time for you to play the game and then let him get back to work. As long as nothing was messed up by the end of it, there would be no harm.

At first you were rather stumped on what to give the demon as an offering. Farah was the same, but she ended up deciding on a horror anthology book from the 1920s. Carmen just got a shirt they had been wanting since they were certain that this ritual wasn't going to work and they wanted to spend the money on something that was useful to them. Cliff went out of his way to get a particularly creepy clown doll. He claimed that he wasn't annoyed by all of this, but you found yourself questioning that statement when he sent a picture of it through the group text. You had no clue where the fuck he had found something that unsettling.

The night you all had settled on was approaching and you still didn't have an offering. It shouldn't have been that hard, and yet you felt like if there was the chance that you were going to run into some otherworldly creature, you didn't want to half-ass it and make it upset. If the supernatural was real it seemed better to try and keep it on your side.

You found yourself browsing a few online forums where people were discussing the game. Unsurprisingly, most said that the ritual didn't work, and the few that claimed that it did had written some uninspired stories about how the demon had told them how they were going to die or when the world was going to end, with at least one mentioning the coming of the Antichrist. When you scrolled down to the end of the page you were pretty bored of all of the comments you read and you were about to exit the page when one particular comment caught your eye:

the demon likes bats

It was buried beneath the comments of others, and nobody had interacted with it. Common sense would tell you that this was just more bullshit, but it just seemed like such a random thing to make up. Nowhere in the instructions had it mentioned bats, and no one else on the forums had said anything about it either. The user who had posted it hadn't interacted with anything else and seemingly just came on to put out that little tidbit. For that reason, you found yourself wondering if their ritual had been successful.

You leaned back in your chair while you considered the information.

Bats, huh?

And then by complete chance the next day, when you were in the mall trying to find something because it the date you'd set for the game was only hours away and you still had nothing, you spotted something through the window of a toy store: a pink stuffed bat plush.

It was rather overpriced, but if that comment was correct, then it should be worth it. If not, at least you got something cute out of it.

Surprisingly it was Carmen and Farah that had been less than impressed by what you had brought.

“I didn't realize you wanted to offend the demon too,” Farah commented bitterly.

“Maybe the demon likes pink,” you responded as you shrugged.

Nothing more was said about it as Cliff opened the front door of the building. In exchange for doing this, he made the rest of you go about the building to turn off all any lights that had been left on which you all grumbled about but agreed was fair enough. By the time you were finished scouring the building, it was 3:13 in the morning.

It had been agreed that Farah would go first, and the rest of you waited in a darker spot of the parking lot while she went in, watching the building to see if you could spot her movements through the windows. You had pulled out your phone, as you were the last person she had called. It would probably be proven pretty fast if this was real or not if she called you and it went through to you, though Carmen had said that they felt it was likely that Farah would probably not call and just say that she had.

You checked to make sure the sentimental object you had brought was in your pocket: a small, stuffed bear keychain that you had gotten as a present from a childhood friend. It was special to you, but you didn't feel like you'd be absolutely devastated if anything happened to it.

Farah came out a few minutes later, carrying her book and looking disappointed.

“It didn't work,” she said as she sighed.

“Did you call?” you asked.

“Yes,” she answered, somewhat indignant. To prove that she had, she pulled out her phone and opened up her call history. It listed her last call as being made to you only a few minutes ago. When you opened up your own call history, it showed that she had called you over an hour ago.

….. Okay. That was weird.

Carmen went next, and it was the same story with them, as they came out a little bit later still holding their shirt. Unlike Farah, they didn't seem too upset.

Cliff went after, holding that creepy clown doll and waving it around a bit as he walked to the elevator.

It was quiet again after that. You, Carmen and Farah waited patiently in the parking lot while the electric lampposts around you hummed. Cliff had been talking earlier so you hadn't noticed it, but it seemed eerily quiet outside. Usually there were bugs or other forms of wildlife at night that would keep things from being silent, but right now there was nothing; only the humming electricity of the lot and the occasional comment from Carmen.

Farah seemed anxious as she looked at the building, her hands playing with the charm on her phone while she waited for any sign of Cliff. The thing with the phone history seemed to convince her this was for real and she seemed nervous about Cliff's offering. Carmen didn't appear to be the same way and seemed more impatient, who'd begun to tap their foot as they waited.

“Did you hear anything when you called?” you asked the both of them. They looked at you, and both shook their heads.

“It was quiet when I called,” Farah said.

“Same here,” said Carmen. Farah smiled at that.

“That means that it's real, right?” she asked.

“Sure.”

Carmen wasn't the best person to be around when they were tired and cranky, and you could see that Farah wasn't trying to take it personally. But looking back to Carmen, you noticed a slight furrow to their brow, and the impatient tapping seemed to have increased. At first glance you would have assumed that they were just really done with this whole thing, but as you kept looking, it seemed less like they were annoyed and more more like they were apprehensive.

“Cliff's taking a while,” they commented.

It was taking Cliff longer than the two of them, you realized, and you were about to try and crack a joke about him making it to the sixth floor when you saw the elevator doors in the lobby slide open, followed by Cliff walking out.

More like storming out, actually.

“What the hell?!” he exclaimed as he shoved open the main doors.

“Don't shout!” Carmen responded, “this is your job that we're not supposed to be doing this at, remember? What're you going to do if someone calls the police on us?”

Cliff ignored them, looking to Farah as he continued “are you serious? You want this stupid thing to be real that badly?!”

He was holding something that he then thrust in front of Farah's face. It was the clown doll that he'd brought.

Or at least, what was left of it.

It looked like it had been stepped on repeatedly, the body broken and the head having been caved in. One of the legs were also missing, you noted.

“You.... You think I did that?” Farah asked.

“Who else!” Cliff yelled.

“I've been here the whole time!” she shrieked back.

“She has,” you added as you felt the need to jump in, “none of us have moved from this spot.”

“Oh fuck off,” he answered, “I needed to return this. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Maybe you shouldn't have gone out of your way to be an asshole,” Farah spat back.

It quickly devolved into an argument between the two, with Carmen pulling you back when you tried to jump in again. It made sense why Cliff was upset, but Farah hadn't done anything.

“.... Should I not go?” you whispered to Carmen after a bit.

“No!” Cliff exclaimed, this time at you, “you should go! Do this stupid thing, and then let me get back to my work!”

“You're not allowed to go back in for the rest of the night,” Farah pointed out.

By that point Cliff was done, and he stormed off to another area in the lot. Carmen motioned for you to go while Farah quietly steamed. It wasn't the first time those two had fought, but the arguments seemed to be getting nastier every time they happened. Best to get this over with so they could be separated and have the time to cool down.

You walked through the darkened lobby of the empty office building, your path illuminated only by the streetlights outside. There was something about darkness and artificial light that somehow made it feel more foreboding, more dangerous. Even though you were an adult there were still thoughts that ran about in your head of creatures that you couldn't see awaiting you in the dark, and those thoughts made you tense a bit. It was such an irrational fear, but one your brain wouldn't let go of. The argument between your friends had only put you more on edge as well.

The elevator doors slid open, the bright blinding lights hurting your eyes for a second before they adjusted to them, and you stepped in the car, pushing the button for the fifth floor.

Fifth floor, leave the offering, then down to third.

There were some bits of Cliff's creepy clown doll that were in front of the elevator when you reached the top floor. It vaguely occurred to you that the instructions said to leave immediately if the offering had been destroyed, but it seemed like Cliff had tried to clean up some. Though that made sense, since he didn't want to leave a mess behind after his shift.

You pushed away some of the leftover bits with your shoe, and carefully placed the bat plush laying on its back in front of the doors.

Down to the third floor, then.

You checked again to make sure that the bear keychain was still in your pocket during the ride down, stepping out when the doors opened after you confirmed that it was.

Now to make the call....

There hadn't been anything saying you needed to wait until the doors closed to begin, but you waited anyway. When the double doors slid shut behind you, you hit the button on your screen to call Farah, the last person on your call history.

It rang twice before the call was picked up. Just as Farah and Carmen had said, it was silent on the other side. You cleared your throat before saying the words that had been instructed.

“I want to visit the sixth floor. Please.”

There was nothing that said you needed to be polite, but you figured it couldn't hurt.

You still didn't hear anything from the other end, and that silence continued for several more seconds. You held the phone close to your ear, straining to hear anything, any sort of indication that someone was on the other line. The “demon” was supposed to hang up first, you remembered, so you were stuck until something happened.

“.... That's actually cute.”

The male voice you heard on the other end was unexpected, but you didn't get a chance to say anything back before the phone call ended.

You stood very still for a few moments.

That.... That hadn't been any of the others who were still outside. Unless they had gone so far as to hide someone out there and have them answer the phone when you called Farah and all of this was just an elaborate prank. But none of them were really the kind of people to do things like that.

Remembering the instructions from the site, you turned back to the elevator and got on when the doors opened, pushing the button for fifth floor once again.

If the demon likes your offering, there will be no trace of it when you get back up to the 5th floor

The ding of the elevator signaled that you were once again at the top floor of the building, and when the doors slid back open and you looked to the spot where you'd left the bat, you found.... Nothing.

That space you had cleared from the broken bits of that doll was empty, the white tiled floor shining in the light that came from the elevator.

….. If this was all just a prank by your friends, you weren't sure if you'd be able to trust them after this.

The doors closed once again, and you took a deep breath before you pushed the fifth floor button.

The elevator began to move up.

There wasn't a sixth floor; you'd double checked that the building only went as high as five.

You told yourself to wait until the doors opened before you jumped to conclusions. You'd need to see this “other world” before you could say for certain that all of this was real.

The website said that it could take up to two minutes, but mere seconds later did the doors slide back open.

Everything looked normal. Just another floor of an office building.

Or it would have looked normal, had it not been for the fact that everything was bathed in a red glow that came from the outside.

Clutching your phone in one hand and the keychain in the other, you took a small, tentative step out of the car, looking to either side of you.

The hallways were empty. Nothing jumped out at you.

Slowly, you walked over to a window.

In the distance stood a glowing red cross.

…. This was real.

This was actually real.

It was almost too much to process for your shock-addled brain, and you had to wonder if anyone else who had been successful had the same reaction as you, to just stare dumbly at the scene before you.

It then occurred to you to get proof for when you went back.

You pulled up the camera on your phone. Or you tried to at least. Of all the times for your phone to act up, it needed to be when you needed to get a picture so people would believe you. The app kept taking forever to pull up before it would close and you repeatedly tapped on the screen as you tried to make it work. Somehow you managed to snap a few pictures of the cross before the camera closed again and you weren't able to open it back up. The lighting and your uncooperative phone made the pictures appear quite blurry, but one would be able to tell what they were looking at. No doubt some people would claim that it was fake, but it was enough to satisfy you.

You checked the time, finding it to be 3:30, if the phone was to be trusted. You wished you had checked before you came up here, but it was a bit too late for that now.

You stepped away from the window and went down one of the halls, looking all around before you remembered that the site said that you shouldn't look behind you. Or was that only when you heard the demon? Regardless, you kept glances behind yourself to a minimum as you made your way through the floor.

Aside from the red light that covered everything, it looked like a normal office floor, filled with different offices and supply closets and nothing that was particularly interesting to you. The one strange thing was that the red cross outside seemed to move along with you, as when you would move to a different room you would still be able to see it clearly outside. You went back to the windows a few times and tried to see if there was anything else outside, but all you found was an endless darkness with no signs of any kind of life or structure. Unsurprisingly there was also no sign of your friends down below, though it would have been hard to see where they were standing outside anyway given the angle.

The red light made you slightly sick after a while, and you tried opening up the flashlight option on your phone. But it refused to turn on. In fact, nothing on your phone was working now, and when you looked at the clock, the time was still 3:30.

Either time was being distorted or your phone wasn't able to function properly. Given how your phone was acting earlier the latter would seem to be the most likely option, but you also weren't sure what the rules of this place were. There was nothing that said that this world was bound to time in the way yours was.

The website had said that you could stay up here for as long as you wanted, right?

You began to see things out of the corner of your eye, little bits of movement in the darkness that dared you to look at them. You did a few times, mentally slapping yourself as you remembered what the instructions had said as you were now desperately trying to remember everything that had been written so you knew what you could and couldn't do. It was amazing and terrifying at the same time as you recalled what the site had said about possibly dying to this game, and at one point you felt so overwhelmed that you thought you were going to throw up. You managed to keep it down, but after that you decided that it was time to leave.

When you started to head back to the elevator was when you felt a headache coming on. It was mild at first, but when you went further along your route to the exit it started to hurt more, turning into a stabbing pain that jammed into your skull.

Had the website mentioned this? You couldn't be sure. Where were you even going again?

You stopped at an open door, leaning against the open door frame to rest. There was movement from inside the room, and without thinking you looked over to it.

The bat you had left on the fifth floor sat in the room in front of a whiteboard. A whiteboard that had been absolutely covered in drawn on hearts and your name repeated over and over.

…. The website hadn't mentioned that.

“Do you think it's a good place for him?”

The voice you heard came from a few feet behind you. The same voice you had heard over the phone.

You needed to get out. Now.

You brushed your hand against your pocket as you tried to stand up straight again, still fighting the pain of the headache when you remembered the little bear keychain.

It will keep you from losing yourself

With that thought in mind you pulled it out and focused on it, and the pain seemed to lessen by a good amount.

“You've got a thing for cute stuff, don't you?”

The voice came from directly behind you this time, like whoever was speaking was staring down over your shoulder as they were practically on top of you.

Don't look don't look don't look

You pushed off of the door frame, the keychain still in hand as you power-walked back down the hall. The headache was still there a little bit but it was nowhere near as debilitating as it had been before.

The voice whined from behind you.

“You're leaving already? You just got here.”

Don't speak. Don't look.

It was following you. You could hear the footsteps that trailed after yours, keeping up with your pace and almost being purposefully loud. Sudden noises accompanied the footsteps, making you jump and urging you to turn around. It was a natural thing to react to sudden sounds like that and you needed to catch yourself a few times from looking behind.

It was trying to keep you here and you didn't want to stay to find out why that was.

You turned several corners and walked down many halls, and the elevator wasn't anywhere in sight. That wasn't right. You had made a mental note of where the location of the elevator approximately was. As much as the headache was still messing with you, you should still be able to make it back. You knew where it was, goddammit.

…. Was it just you, or were these hallways getting longer?

A chuckle came from behind you.

“You didn't think I'd let you go that easy, did you?”

You started to run.

You weren't sure how long you continued like that – time didn't seem to be a thing up here. Around you the halls extended, stretching out and prolonging your time in this hell as you turned corner after corner and you still couldn't find the fucking elevator. The temptation was there to look behind and see how long the halls had become, but the laughter that followed you kept your eyes straight ahead.

Turning another corner, the doors to the elevator came in sight, and you let out a gasp of relief as you ran faster. Just a little bit more and then you'd be free.

…. The elevator seemed to be was moving away from you, messing with you just as the halls had done before.

You could hear him breathing directly in your ear as you ran. Still trying to freak you out, still trying to make you turn around. He hadn't touched you at all, though, and you wondered if there were rules for him that prevented him from doing so.

The attempts to get you to look back at him seemed to be getting desperate. If this thing was getting to a point where even he was desperate, you didn't want to know what the hell he'd do to you if you made the mistake of turning around.

Despite it all the elevator was getting closer. Escape was literally in your grasp-

And then something in the floor shifted that caused your knee to buckle and you were sent flying face down on the flat white tile.

The phone and keychain went flying out of your hands and there was blood in your mouth as you bit your lip. Your head ached again, though you weren't sure if it was because of him or because you'd just landed on the solid floor.

You lay there for a few moments, catching your breath as you tried to compose yourself.

You then became aware of the presence that was standing over you. He was quiet now, but you could feel his eyes burning holes into your back, as if trying to will you to look at him.

Pushing yourself up on shaky arms, you began to crawl forward, your hands searching for the phone and keychain that had gone flying and had vanished into the darkness, the light from outside now much duller than it had been when you'd first arrived.

Don't look don't look don't look

He can't touch you

He can't force you to look back at him

Just keep facing forward and-

A horrifically loud shrieking noise sounded through the hall. It was the loudest thing you had ever heard in your life, the noise so great that you felt the floor vibrating, and your hands immediately went to cover your ears to protect your hearing as best you could.

Don't you dare fucking look back

With your hands still over your ears, you crawled forward on your knees. It was slow and it had gotten so dark that you couldn't see the elevator anymore, but it was still progress. When your knee brushed against your phone you ignored it. Who gave a fuck about proof anymore? You just wanted to get out.

But you were still trying to keep a lookout for the keychain. It had helped before; if you could find it, it would probably make getting out easier.

You put out one hand on the floor as you blindly searched for your sentimental item, your eyes scrunching up in pain as the horrible sound continued.

For a split second your fingers brushed up against something soft.

You grabbed it.

Immediately after the shrieking noise stopped.

For just a moment, there was relief, even though you still had that noise ringing in your ears. But it took only another moment for you to realize that something was wrong.

You hadn't grabbed that bear keychain. It was larger and heavier.

Opening your eyes, you found that you were holding that fucking bat plush.

“Ah. You messed up.”

A hand reached from behind you and grabbed the plush out of your grip. A different hand was placed on your shoulder and you were spun around on the floor.

A fair-skinned man with what looked to be blonde hair stared down at you, one hand still on your shoulder as he waved the bat in front of you.

“You're not supposed to take this back, remember?” he asked as he smiled at you.

“No.... I didn't...” you trailed off.

“But you did, though! You grabbed and picked it up,” he said.

That wasn't possible. You had left that thing behind in that room that felt so far away now. But as you glanced to the side you saw that, to your horror, you were sitting next to that room again, the hearts still visible on the whiteboard. You were barely able to note that it had gotten brighter and that somehow the red lighting seemed less harsh before he was talking to you again.

“So you lost and now you don't get to go back,” he told you.

“No.... You cheated.”

It felt so juvenile to say that out loud, but it was all that could come out of you in your current state.

Strangely though, he didn't deny it.

“Can you blame me?” he asked, “I've never gotten a visitor as charming as yourself. When I heard you on the phone and saw what you left me, I just needed to keep you.”

He looked at the bat plush again and smiled at it as he sat down in front of you.

“Did you just pick this at random, or was it something else?”

You struggled to comprehend the question, and it took you a bit before you were able to blurt out “someone else said you liked bats.”

“So you mean you went to the trouble of looking up what things I liked? That's adorable. I love it!” he exclaimed.

You tried to subtly scoot away from him as he sat in front of you but you were noticed instantly.

“Where do you think you're going?” he asked. The look he gave you was so innocent.

“I-I need to go home. I want to go home,” you insisted.

“That's not an option, remember?” he asked, waving the bat around again.

You shook your head.

“You cheated. I should be allowed to leave because you did that.”

He laughed.

“There's no rule against cheating. As long as I didn't touch you it was fine. Don't be a sore loser.”

“Fuck you.”

You spat out those words in a bout of frustration, trying your best to sound strong, but it probably just made you seem more pathetic.

He only hummed at that, just staring at you for a moment.

It had been getting steadily brighter, the red going away with every passing second and you were able to make out different colors. The purple and teal on his clothes, the shade of blonde his hair was and the blue of his eyes were visible to you for a few moments.

He set the bat plush to the side, and the world began to darken again as red and black took over.

“That's okay,” he said, more to himself than to you, “you're scared and that kind of reaction is normal, so I'm not too mad.”

It was getting harder to see him, but you could see movement about him, things about his body changing. Horns that slowly curled out from his forehead. The tips of his fingers that darkened around long claws that took the place of his fingernails. Large, bat-like wings that unfolded from behind him and spread themselves.

You caught a glimpse of his teeth in the low light, and they looked sharper than they had before.

Panic shot through you as you began to scramble away from him, but your escape attempt was short-lived as something wrapped itself around your legs and pulled you back towards him.

A tail? Oh God that was a tail.

He was on top of you, and he caged you in his arms as he leaned down to whisper in your ear “don't worry, I'll go easy on you this time.”

You tried to push him away, but he ignored it.

“Oh! Before I forget, I should introduce myself shouldn't I? I'm Shalnark. Nice to meet you.”

With that, his lips claimed yours in a searing kiss.

Your friends had been waiting a while.

Farah and Carmen stayed where they had been directly next to the building while Cliff hadn't moved from where he had stormed off to. Farah had been getting upset as she had become convinced that you were being an ass to her as well with how long you were taking. It was all Carmen could do to try and keep her calm.

Because of his distance away and how distracted they were, neither of them noticed the state Cliff was in.

They only noticed when he began to violently cough.

With Farah still slightly bitter from their earlier argument, Carmen was the one to check on him, asking if he was alright as they walked up to him.

Cliff gave no answer as he had begun to cough up blood.

Carmen's hands fumbled when they pulled out their phone to call emergency services, and they yelled at Farah to go inside and get you. The sight of the blood Cliff was coughing up had Farah sprinting towards the building, throwing the front doors open as she made a beeline for the elevator.

Carmen didn't notice it at first when Farah fell to the floor. Only when the ambulance had been confirmed and they looked back to the building to see if the two of you were coming out did they see her body lying limply on the floor.

Ambulances and cop cars arrived eventually, and both Cliff and Farah were declared dead at the scene. The autopsy reports later would declare that they had been poisoned. A thorough search of the building would find no source of where the poison had come from.

Nor did they find anything from you.

Carmen had told them that you were in there, but when they searched they found no trace of you. No personal belongings and nothing to even indicate that you had entered the building. When the search for you grew beyond the confines of the office building, there was still no trace of you. You simply vanished into thin air.

The case would puzzle investigators before they would ultimately put it aside for other cases that needed their attention. It would only gain some traction online when the files were released to the public and certain parties saw that you and your friends had been playing the Sixth Floor Game. For some people it added weight to their beliefs that the game was real and needed to be avoided. For others it was just a coincidence.

Regardless of what they thought, you remained a missing person that would never be seen again, forever immortalized by your unexplained disappearance and an urban legend.

[marvelouspeterparker]

all worth it

pairing: tom holland x interviewer!reader

summary: tom is an actor, doing interviews is a part of his job. but there’s just something about you that makes him feel like the stress that comes with press tours and interviews is all worth it.

warnings: none, just fluff

notes: literally got this idea from looking at an onward interview gif (the one where he recites the lines from back to the future, iykyk) also imagine the pandemic never happened in this jfskgh

so tom loves his job, obviously

he gets to be his number one favorite superhero, make people happy, do what he loves, and more

but that doesn’t mean that there are no downsides to his career

there is actually a lot of stress that comes with being in the limelight and that includes people constantly watching your every move, being critiqued, questioned and put on the spot

and the perfect time for all this to occur? during interviews

now some of the time, interviews are nice, sometimes they’re even fun

but unfortunately a lot of the time, the same questions are asked in each and every one, one after the other, for hours on end and it honestly gets very boring and very draining very fast

so to be quite frank, he wasn’t expecting much when he walked into the next room for his last interview of the day

but when you walked in, he couldn’t help but perk up a bit

you were pretty and you seemed very nice as well, greeting everyone, including the crew as you made your way over to tom, jacob and zendaya

some of the interviewers would just walk straight to their seat and start the questions almost immediately, no warmth in their manners––but you, you were different

you shook each of their hands, smiling wide as you said hello

you couldn’t really contain your enthusiasm, you were a big marvel fan, and a fan of each of them, so you couldn’t tame your smile even if you wanted to

your energy was infectious and tom was more than grateful for it

when you reached him, he looked into your eyes deeply and you had to snap out of your daze before you made a fool of yourself

‘hello darling’ he licked his lips as he looked up at you, a gracious smile on his face and you blinked a couple times before responding

‘hi it’s––so nice to meet you, i’m a big fan.’ you turned to look at the others, ‘of all of you, really.’ 

they all ‘aww’ed and accepted your compliments, thanking you as you took your seat

when you were given the green light to start, you gave a curt nod to the crew behind the cameras and started right away

you were professional and good at your job, making the cast feel welcome and at ease after a long day of work

you told jokes, asked interesting questions that others hadn’t and since you were a marvel fan, you were able to ask specific questions that showed your genuine interest in the comics, the films, the plots and more

tom could feel himself getting more comfortable as the interview went on and the smile never left his face throughout the entire thing

when it ended and they turned the cameras off, you all felt a bit disappointed that you would have to say goodbye so soon, you were all having a good time and genuinely laughing so hard that your cheeks hurt 

you thanked them all for their time and jacob was quick to wave you off

‘no thank you––i think we can all agree that we saved the best for last today.’ he looked to his friends and they nodded along

zendaya chimed in ‘for real, this was fun.’

you smiled, honored that you managed to make their day a little better and tom spoke up quietly, making you turn to look at him

‘yeah this, this was really great. thank you y/n.’

you could feel your cheeks heating up but you nodded, smiling as you tried your best to calm your raging heartbeat ‘my pleasure’

tom would have loved to speak with you more afterwards honestly, but unfortunately as soon as he exited the room, he and his friends were being ushered towards the next location for the day, preparing for the long week they still had ahead of them

though you had hoped to see more of tom, you only had one interview with him, so you wouldn’t be seeing him any time soon

or so you thought, anyway

your boss surprised you with a chance to go to the premiere, and interview some of the cast and other actors on the red carpet of course (since you were there for work)

you honestly thought that if tom did see you, he would only give you a small wave, maybe a slight head nod at best since you’d already interviewed him, but to your surprise, when he saw you, he smiled immediately and made his way over to you, swerving away from his entourage (which consisted of his brothers, assistant, and others you didn’t recognize)

‘hi love, how are you?’ 

his eyes were shining under the bright lights on the carpet and there were hundreds of shouts and conversations going on around you, but he somehow managed to make you focus only on him, from his voice and presence alone

‘good! how are you? you excited? nervous?’

he laughed, tilting his head, ‘both, but you know, i’m really proud of this film and i’m ready for people to see it’

you didn’t have much time to talk since there were plenty of other interviewers, journalists and on top of that he had to take pictures so you wished him good luck and he thanked you genuinely

‘i have to run, but be sure to tell me what you think of the movie afterwards, yeah? i know you’re a marvel fan, wanna see if it lives up to your standards’ he winked and you stuttered for a bit, agreeing as he walked off 

you were shocked that he wanted to hear your opinion, but granted there was a camera on you both, which you might have forgotten about while you were talking

but you couldn’t help but think, was that flirting? does he really want to know what i think?

you tried to push the butterflies down and focus on the film as you watched and honestly, it was easy to forget about everything else once you looked at the screen

the film, the plot, tom––everything was so captivating and entertaining, you couldn’t look away even if you tried

it wasn’t until after the film had ended, and you’d stayed for both end credit scenes that you realized you had no way of contacting tom

surely he would have things to do after this, after parties maybe? so you most likely wouldn’t see him outside

and it’s not like he followed you on instagram––he probably wouldn’t even see your dm if you sent one

as you were on your way out, thinking about all this, you felt a hand tap your shoulder and you turned, a smile on your face

but soon realizing it wasn’t who you’d hoped, you tried to not let the disappointment show on your face but as you looked clearly, you realized the man looked familiar

‘hi’ he smiled, ‘i’m tom’s assistant’ you nodded, greeting him a little confused

‘tom’ he started, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket, ‘wanted me to give you this’ he handed you the paper and you opened it, feeling your stomach jump when you realized a number was scribbled on it, signed -tom ;)

without even realizing, you stared at the ink on the paper for a few seconds silently before his assistant snapped you out of it

‘he wanted you to know that he’s not a dick and he would have come if he could’

you laughed and looked up at him

‘honestly he felt really bad he couldn’t come himself, trust me.’

you nodded and put the paper in your bag, ‘thank you, i’ll be sure to use this’ you smiled

he smiled too, ‘tom hopes you will’ 

you had a feeling that tom would be busy that night, and probably hungover the next morning, so you waited a couple of days before contacting him

and during those two days, tom was honestly freaking out inside...and outside

were you not interested? was he too forward? did he do something wrong? did you get the wrong idea of him?

he was even texting harrison, jacob and zendaya about it in their group chat

tom: i’m an idiot aren’t i

zendaya: yeah but we already knew that

tom: 😑

harrison: i’m sure she’ll text you, maybe she’s just busy

jacob: yeah man, you’re a total catch

jacob: and anyway if she doesn’t want you, i’ll have you 😏

tom: thanks babe 😘

zendaya: i’m just gonna go––

tom: but anyway, i don’t think i’ll ever shoot my shot ever again because this is just embarrassing

not even a full minute passed before the he send the next text 

tom: nevermind she just texted me

tom almost dropped his phone when he saw the message pop up

maybe: y/n: hi tom! this is y/n :) i’m free to give you my thoughts on the movie when you are

you felt like you were going to be sick when you hit send on the message––you didn’t want to bother him, it’d been several days, what if he changed his mind? 

and you––nevermind he responded immediately

tom: hi darling :) i’m glad you used my number 

tom: i’m free to talk now actually, we could facetime if that’s easier? only if you want, of course

you paused when you read his text, luckily you had showered and gotten dressed today so you didn’t look a mess but you opened the camera just to check if you looked alright

were you really about to facetime tom holland?

when you finished fixing your hair, smoothing down your eyebrows and licking your lips, you swallowed your nerves and replied

y/n: sure, i’d like that

he took a deep breath and hit the call button, eagerly waiting for it to connect when you answered

when you both came into view, you smiled, greeting each other shyly

‘was a little worried when you didn’t call me that night’ he admitted sheepishly

your brows raised, surprised ‘oh i just––i assumed you would have been busy you know, after parties and all that’ you laughed and he joined you, a small smile on his face

‘darling even if you called me during the party, i would have left just to talk to you––missed hearing your voice honestly’ 

when you paused to answer a blush coated his cheeks and you couldn’t help but think how cute he looked

‘sorry was that lame?’ he laughed nervously and you shook your head, biting your lip to suppress your smile

‘no––that was, really sweet actually. i––like talking to you too, it’s really nice’ 

soon you get to talking about the actual movie and you couldn’t stop the praises from flowing

‘honestly it was incredible tom, you were incredible, i loved it’

‘thank you love, i’m really glad you enjoyed it, i was hoping you would.’

and the way that tom smiled bashfully and blushed, even pointing the camera away from his face to hide at one point had you swooning more than ever

after that, you and tom texted here and there, sometimes even facetiming, and he wouldn’t hesitate to compare you to his other interviewers and even tell you about it

‘had an interview today, can’t even compare it to yours, love’ 

you just rolled your eyes, a smile on your face ‘oh shut up, tom’ 

you talk often but due to both of your busy schedules, months go by before you see each other again

you run into him at red carpets for other marvel movies, and there’s never a dull moment between the two of you

‘‘there’s my favorite interviewer’ his smile was wide as he walked up to you. ‘you excited for this one?’

you scoffed, fully having a conversation with tom as though you weren’t on camera ‘of course i am, it looks amazing’

‘even better than my movies?’

you raised your hands in surrender, ‘legally, i can’t answer that’

he put a hand to his chest, acting dramatically offended ‘wow well, i guess it’s time for me to go then’

‘at least save me a seat?’ you joked

‘you know i will’ he smirked

by the time ‘the devil all the time’ press came about, you hadn’t told tom that you were assigned to interview him, honestly it was a last minute schedule change 

honestly, he’d gotten good at hiding his bad moods from the public, but you’d known him for enough time now to be able to see when he wasn’t at his 100%

which is why you could see him visibly brighten up when he walked into the room and saw you

‘what are you doing here?’ he asked, clearly (pleasantly) surprised as he hugged you 

‘uh, my job?’ you joked, ‘you didn’t actually think i only interviewed for the mcu did you?’

he blushed, ‘well i uh––no, obviously not’ he said unconvincingly but you brushed him aside as you got ready for the interview

once you started, tom couldn’t help but smile as he watched you, you were just really good at your job and he enjoyed being with you, even when it was for work

‘so obviously audiences are used to seeing you as peter parker, a rather lighthearted character, despite all the hardships he’s had to face––would you say approaching a character as dark as this was challenging in any way? mentally, emotionally, or just in regards to the fact that the public would be seeing a new, more sinister, villainous side to you?’

‘i mean it was a little daunting, definitely. but i was excited to sort of branch out mentally and challenge myself emotionally for this role––the story was fascinating to me and i was just so proud to be a part of this project, i tried not to think of any downsides.’ 

he paused and licked his lips, a glint in his eyes. ‘and honestly, we all have a little bit of a dark side, don’t we?’ 

you paused. of all times to flirt––

‘well hopefully not to the same extent of your character,’ you joked and thankfully the conversation smoothly transitioned elsewhere

now the fans took notice of your bond with tom

they noticed that tom seemed to smile the brightest and laugh the loudest during your interviews, even jumping into other conversations and answers to questions that were directed to his costars

there were dozens of videos, hundreds of edits––

‘tom falling for his interviewer for 9 minutes straight’

and you’d seen them––it was sort of impossible for you to not

you’d been tagged in so many of them, even your friends sent them to you

i mean you weren’t blind, tom was attractive and he did make your heart flutter but you assumed that he didn’t want a relationship since his career was only progressing, skyrocketing either––it would probably be difficult to maintain a solid relationship, or maybe he just wasn’t interested in you so you said nothing

it wasn’t until he had a break from filming that he asked you to hangout, and still you thought nothing of it, until he asked what time he should pick you up

you paused, and he even thought that you froze when really you were just processing what he said

‘like a––date?’ you asked hesitantly

he smiled, scratching the back of his head nervously, ‘yeah? yeah i––like a date.’

you smiled, ‘i would love to tom. but aren’t you worried about pictures spreading online? headlines and all that? i wouldn’t want to add any more stress––’

‘i promise love,’ he interrupted your worried rant, ‘you make it all worth it.’

[cloudywriter]

promposals

rowaelin month - september 1st

prompt: i just realized i’m desperately in love with you 

hey guys!! it’s finally rowaelin month and i’m literally so excited you have no idea. sadly, i don’t have time to do every day but i’ll do as many as i can. i can’t wait to see what everyone comes up with. happy writing/reading! (this is just some straight fluff) 

masterlist, AO3

~~~

The school was abuzz, anticipation hung thick in the hallways during each passing period. It had been that way for a week or so now with prom on the horizon. Everyone was constantly on high alert for the next promposal, most desperately hoping it would be their own. Girls hung around their lockers inconspicuously for far longer than necessary and boys tried to play it cool while secretly fretting over who to ask and how to do it.

Rowan was over it pretty quickly, but he’d likely have to suffer through the next month of promposal after promposal. Today was no different, there was an asking in the parking lot before school, one in his first-period English class, another in the hallway after. He couldn’t escape it. 

Thankfully, Rowan wasn’t quite as grumpy as he used to be due to a certain blonde worming into his life a few years ago but he was still Rowan. Sullen and reserved as ever. That fateful blonde being the only one to draw him from his shell. 

Rowan sighed, aimlessly scrolling around on his phone. It was the passing period before his 3rd-period class, AP Biology, and Rowan was leaning against Aelin’s locker.

Aelin always stopped by her locker after her photography class to put her camera away and then they’d head to class together. It was their routine, the same every day. Not yet broken during their entire senior year which was quickly coming to a close. That was a subject Rowan didn’t want to broach though.

He cleared his head of those unsavory thoughts. Rowan could tell yet another proposal was gearing up, Ilias came around the corner holding a poster board in one hand and a bouquet of assorted flowers in the other. At that moment too, Aelin turned the corner, giving Rowan a small smile as she hurried towards him. 

Rowan’s cold resting face tugged into a smirk as she approached her already open locker. Rowan always took it upon himself to open it for her in advance, Aelin tended to fumble with the locks that required a specific number combination and artful twisting. 

As Aelin stored away her camera and shut her locker door with a thud, a gasp down the hallway had them both turning around. 

Ansel was there, her hand cupping her mouth, clearly unsuspecting of Ilias and his proposal. They both watched as Ansel excitedly agreed to prom with Ilias and took the flowers from his outstretched hand, pulling him into a hug. 

Aelin turned her attention away from the happy couple and began to walk towards their next class, Rowan following suit. They progressed for a bit in silence until Aelin spoke up. 

“I hope Chaol asks me to prom soon,” she confessed. 

Rowan almost choked, that single sentence baffling him. “Chaol?” He asked incredulously. 

“Or Dorian,” Aelin shrugged, crossing her arms in front of her. Rowan was suddenly feeling very panicked, like a fish that had accidentally discovered land, flopping around in search of water in a frenzy. To say he felt confused was an understatement. Rowan hadn’t given prom much of his brainpower. He hadn’t even considered asking anyone. He’d just assumed he’d go with Aelin. Why would he have thought otherwise? They did everything together; he’d expected prom would be no different.

When they sat down at their blacktop table in biology Rowan silently floundered as he tried to think over this revelation. Why would Aelin want to go with someone else? Usually, before class started, he and Aelin would joke around until the teacher told them it was time to reel it in but today Rowan stared ahead, picking at the skin of his thumb. A nervous tick he’d developed throughout high school. 

Should he ask someone else then? He couldn’t even think of anyone else he tolerated enough to spend the night with. Maybe Lyria? She was nice enough, always sharing her notes with him in English when he was too busy with lacrosse to do the reading. She was quiet, soft-spoken. Absolutely nothing like the girl sat next to him. That thought made him frown. Remelle? No, he could barely stand Remelle, but he knew she liked him so at least she’d definitely say yes. 

Rowan was pretty much out of luck. Aelin and his friend group were to whom his time was devoted to, he didn’t branch out much beyond them. 

He thought of Aelin all dressed up, maybe in a golden gown that catered to her love of theatrics. Possibly in a deep green that complemented her bright eyes and skin tone. He imagined her with her hair loosely curled and flowing down her back. The delicate, golden Kingsflame silhouette necklace he’d gotten her for her 18th birthday clasped around her neck. It was easy for Rowan to conjure up that image but he couldn’t picture her looking like that and holding onto Chaol’s arm. It felt so intensely wrong to even consider it. 

It was always him. He always imagined her with him. They were a package deal in Rowan’s mind, but apparently not in Aelin’s. 

Aelin seemed to be catching onto Rowan’s internal dilemma. Throughout the duration of the class, he could feel her watching him out of the corner of her peripheral, trying to gauge what could be wrong. She stayed quiet though and dutifully continued her notes that mostly consisted of a collection of small doodles. Rowan couldn’t help but watch and wonder how she truly felt about him.

For the rest of the school day, Rowan pretty much blew Aelin off. He sat between Lorcan and Fenrys at lunch instead of the 2 seats on the right side of the circular table that always housed Aelin and himself. He told her not to wait up in the stands during his lacrosse practice and to head home on her own instead. He could tell she was confused maybe even a little hurt but Rowan couldn’t bring himself to push aside his mass of feelings that had him acting strange. 

He wasn’t even completely sure what was wrong with himself. The thought of Aelin accompanying another guy to prom shouldn’t affect him like it was; they were only best friends nothing more. She had free reign to go with whoever she wanted and she could get whoever, Aelin was a beautiful girl he wasn’t blind to that. He’d just thought it’d be him. 

All throughout lacrosse practice, Rowan was distracted, missing the ball or the goal when he had it, a stark difference from his usual skill. His coach had already pulled him aside once and asked if he was feeling okay only to be given a grunted yeah before putting him back in. He only grew more upset with Aelin as he pondered the day’s events instead of keeping his head in the game. Some part of him knew it was irrational but he couldn’t help it. Why wouldn’t she want to share one of their last big moments of high school together?  

And that’s how he continued to feel as he made the short drive home with his hefty lacrosse bag weighing down his shoulder and his school bag heavy on his back. When he finally entered the home he sighed, the scent of his mother’s cooking filling his nostrils. Honestly, he’d rather stay up in his room and stew than sit through family dinner right now but he knew it’d only prompt more questions from his parents. So he dropped his things by the door much to his mother’s chagrin and collapsed into one of the dining table’s chairs. 

“Feeling alright, son?” His father’s silver brow rose, already catching on to his foul mood. 

“Yeah, just tired,” Rowan confirmed, taking a sip of water. 

His mother entered then, a dish of pasta cupped between her oven mitts that she placed in the center of the table. “How was practice?” She asked sweetly, stripping her hands of their cover and sitting down. 

“It was fine.”

Rowan’s mother and father exchanged a look between themselves. He was normally much more talkative, always giving them updates on school, on plays they’d done during practice, on Aelin. Rowan chose to ignore their concerned expressions and instead served himself a helping of dinner silently. 

His phone buzzed then from inside the pocket of his shorts. Rowan pulled it out to check the message and frowned at the screen. 

fire-breathing b queen👑 : r u okay? 

He stuck his phone back into his pocket instead of typing a reply and forced himself to eat the rest of his dinner. He only half-listened to his parents’ conversation about their days and what was going on in his dad’s office. Rowan knew he was stewing again, falling into a spiral of uncertainty. 

“Rowan, honey, are you sure you’re okay?” His mother pressed, worry lining her brow. 

Rowan’s lips formed a thin line. No, he wasn’t okay. 

In a split-second decision, Rowan decided he was done dancing around whatever was going on between him and Aelin. “I need to go,” Rowan said suddenly, standing up from his chair that loudly scraped across the floor. His parents looked surprised by his outburst but didn’t stop him as he grabbed his keys from the little table by the front entrance and left. 

Rowan didn’t even need to look at the road to know the way to Aelin’s house. The route was in his bones now and within a few minutes he was pulling up in front of her large white house. He hopped out of his truck, not even bothering to lock the doors before he pounded on her green-painted front door. 

The door opened with a squeak and he saw Aelin standing there in one of her nightgowns that drove Rowan absolutely mad. 

“You’re not going to prom with Chaol,” he rasped, pushing the hair falling on his forehead back with his hand. 

“Huh?” Aelin was clearly confused as to why Rowan had come knocking at her door without preamble. 

“You’re not going with him,” Rowan once again declared, standing his ground, ready to get everything off his chest before he lost the courage. 

“Ro, I don’t get what you’re going on about. He hasn’t even asked me and if he doesn’t ask me I don’t know who’d I go with,” she admitted, her hand still holding the door open and her mouth in a serious line. 

Rowan surges forward at that, gripping both of Aelin’s hands in his own. “You’d go with me, Aelin. I want you to go with me,” he pleaded with her, lifting her hands up to his chest. “Aelin,” he continued, “I don’t want to go with anyone else but you. I want to do everything with you, go everywhere with you. Gods, Aelin, you’re like my reason to breathe, to get up in the morning.”

“Row-” Aelin tried to interrupt, her blue eyes going wide. 

“No, just let me finish, I- I know that sounds crazy and I know it’s so out of the blue and you didn’t expect me to show up outside your door like this and start professing my feelings,” Rowan was rambling now he knew. Everything he wanted to say to her was running through his mind like a freight train so much so he struggled to express it. The words were jumbled in his mind as if they were a bowl of alphabet soup in a blender. He just needed her to know how he felt. 

“I- I just, I thought about you going to prom with Chaol or some other guy all damn day and I hated it. Gods, I couldn’t figure out why I hated it so much, it just it- it felt so wrong. Fireheart, I want you to be with me. Gods, I think I’m so desperately in love with you I’m going to combust or something.” Rowan was getting flustered now, he knew his face was burning and he was sweating, maybe from the humidity or maybe from the sheer weight of what he was confessing to his best friend.  “Rowan,” Aelin started once again, her face contorted in pure shock. 

“I know you might not feel the same Aelin, I knew I came here risking that, and if you don’t feel the same-”

“Rowan!” Aelin said with more force, bringing her hands to cup his face. “Listen to me,” she pleaded. 

Rowan stopped trying to fight her and looked at her. He felt as though his stomach might fall out. His nerves were so intense as he stared into Aelin’s golden-ringed eyes. 

“You’re just so fucking stupid,” Aelin breathed. 

Rowan’s brow furrowed, he certainly hadn’t expected her to say that. “Wha-” he began. 

He couldn’t even finish his thought before Aelin’s lips descended upon his own. She cradled his face in her hands as her soft lips moved against his in a slow rhythm. Rowan’s brain stalled and struggled to catch up with what the hell was happening. 

He just knew this felt right, this felt so gods-damn right. 

His hands were loosely wrapped around her wrists and they traveled lightly over her arms and moved to rest on her back and pull her into him. 

Her body molded against his own. It felt like the final bit of a 50,000 piece puzzle had finally fallen into place after years of pouring over it. Rowan kissed Aelin back with just as much fever, desperate to keep her lips on his own. He brushed his tongue along the seam of her lips and she pulled back. 

They both stood there, gulping down air as they stared at each other trying to navigate this unimaginable revelation. 

“You’re- you’re not going to prom with Chaol, right?” Rowan finally managed to ask. 

“No,” Aelin breathed. “I’ll go with you, I’ll always go with you.” 

Their lips met once again.

~~~

day one down. stay tuned and have a wonderful day, xoxo

[honeyatsu]

Loner (Junpei x f!reader) 2

Warnings: whole lotta fluff. y/n being dense lmao.

summary: Junpei was suspicious of you. He always felt the world was filled with people who were naturally evil in some way, until you came into his life and challenged his theory.

masterlist

crossposted on ao3

unorganized sountrack

a/n: updates gonna be slow from now on until the semester is over!

Tatsu ramen wasn’t too far from the school grounds, taking your time walking would consist of a light fifteen minutes. The sun would be setting by the time you and Junpei would make your way to the restaurant, the streets being busy with those walking home after a long day. Tatsu ramen would never be too busy with the time you two went considering it was often school days that you two would go and eat after school hours and (sometimes) do homework. The two of you have become all too familiar with the place, the dim-lit yellow walls and red booths become a place of comfort, a place to rest and ease down after a long day of classes and spending time at your clubs.

Within a month, it was a routine for you two. After finishing your club activities, you would always wait for Junpei outside of the school gates, usually playing with the hems of your uniformed skirt and smiling widely as you would see him walk towards you. The first time he saw you waiting he didn’t know it was for him, until you grabbed his wrist and dragged him to the same place you took him to the day before without warning.

It was more you who would go out of your way to look for him, noticing him at school a lot more since meeting him in class. He would often walk with head down, so you would run to him while shouting his name, hugging him from behind to grab his attention. Within the first two weeks of you latching yourself onto him with your presence, he just wanted to ask why. Why did you run from your friends to be with him? Why did you wait after school every day with him just to go and eat after? Why were you so persistent in being his friend?

He would often wonder why with you, but he never asked.

“This assignment is sooo hard, don’t wanna do it.” You sighed while laying your head on the table. You reached your hands out across, grabbing Junpei’s fingers and playing with them lightly. You didn’t miss the way his face heated up at your sudden display of contact. You smiled softly to yourself before saying, “You still get flustered when I touch you. Does it bother you? I can stop.”

You tried not to display a look of disappointment of your face, fearing his answer would be to ask you to stop. You figured after a month of friendship with him he’d be used to it, but you wanted to respect his boundaries and his body language continued to display discomfort whenever you would practically breath near him.

“It’s, uhm, it’s just….always so sudden.” He said averting his gaze to his bowl to avoid the smug look on your face. “Do you just casually touch all your friends like this?”

You didn’t want to admit this to yourself, but you’d be lying if you said his small display of jealous didn’t stroke your ego. That and the simple fact that for the first time in a month, he finally acknowledged you as his friend. That extremely small, and most likely unintentional vocal announcement of friendship was a firm pat in the back for you. With the surge of confidence overflowing, you made the bold (yet not out of character) move of removing your fingers from his, now holding a tight grip on his hand.

“Why? Does me touching my other friends like this bother you?” you teased at him as you rose your head from the table, giving him a subtle smirk.

He quickly removed his hand from yours, turning his head to the side trying to hide his flustered face from you, “I didn’t say that!” he exclaimed shakily.

Your hand that was once holding his shifted towards the chopsticks to the side, picking them up and bringing noodles closer to your face, “If you want, that can be our thing. You’re my favorite friend.” You said as you began to stuff ramen noodles in your mouth.

Junpei continued to avert his eyes, trying to look anywhere but at you.

---------------------

The monotoned lecture echoed throughout the classroom, the words going in one ear and out the other for the room of students struggling to pay attention. Heavy eyes could be mistaken as contagious for those who were fighting to not have their heads hit the desk, each and every student feeling the same internal battle of focusing on their sensei’s words.

You couldn’t keep your glittered purple pen from lightly hitting on the desk, every tap being used as a source of focus to help your heavy eyes stay open. Your foot followed the rhythem of the pen, you felt as if you had to keep moving, had to have something going on other than the mundane voice of the lecturer in the front of the room.

“…and now class, time for a break.”

You sighed in relief as you plopped your head onto Junpei’s shoulder, his body stiffened for a few seconds before relaxing, he was still getting used to your constant physical displays of affection.

Junpei waited to hear your voice seep through his ears, usually when breaks occur during class you take the ten minutes of free time to talk Junpei’s ear off. After all this time, it took you to start a conversation and carry it as well.

The silence was now unfamiliar, sitting with you he became accustomed to regular conversations. He used to crave silence, most words directed towards him stung, but with you he was looking forward to it. Before he was able to ask if you were okay, he noticed you begin to nod off to sleep, until in a split second your eyes perked up when you noticed a movie poster sticking out of his notebook. Your hands slowly dragged it out of the book as you stared at it, it was a “Scream” movie poster.

His shoulder was free from the weight of your head, staring at you curiously as you grabbed his notebook and placed it on the opposite side of where he was sitting, writing in it with your head laying down facing the other side of the desk. He couldn’t see what you were doing, shuffling awkwardly in his sit waiting to figure out what to anticipate from you next.

Within seven minutes, you turned to him with a wide grin plastered onto your face.

“Ta-da!”

He looked down at the paper you slid to his side of the desk and saw a very detailed drawing of ghostface. It was the signature pose, his dark cloak covering his body, holding onto the bloody knife raised before he was prepared to slaughter his next victim. His drawn mask didn’t miss any shadows, even the small texture was visible in your quick sketch.

“I didn’t know you could draw!” Junpei said excitedly, mouth agape as he grabbed the picture with both hands, his eyes widened in awe, “Are you in art club?”

“No, I wish. I take advanced art as a class though. I’m in the athletic club department. I’ve done martial arts and gymnastics my entire childhood.” You brought up your arm and flexed your muscles. “Feel them, I’m pretty strong.” You said with a grin.

Pretty strong would be an understatement, Junpei thought to himself. He brought his hand and gripped onto your bicep, gasping once you flexed to show him you indeed were strong, your muscles putting his slightly-skinny ones to shame.

“I’m pretty strong compared to you, Junpei.” He winced at your comment, about to make his first slick remark towards you until –

“That just means I get to be your knight and shining armor then.”

--------------

Avoiding the pleas of your friends to stay with them, you finally managed to escape the group in search for Junpei. Bumping into other classmates, hovering over lunch tables, even going to more isolated areas of the lunch room, he was still out of sight for you. You gripped your lunch box tightly in frustration, just how hard was it to find the one person in your school that had such a distinct look? You cursed yourself, after a month of friendship and spending the amount of time you did outside of school, you still never managed to get his number.

On a whim you decided to step outside, the cool October breeze catching you by surprise. The autumn trees displaying colors of yellow, orange, red, and purple were the perfect scenario for those school couples wanting to be away from the rest of the school, you knew this. Yet, it was such an embarrassing surprise when every step you would take you would come in a – very awkward -encounter with a couple, whether cuddling or making out, you’d just turn on your heel and act as if you didn’t see a thing at all.

You scolded yourself for even considering looking outside, knowing Junpei he’d be a flustered mess even being near these couples. You didn’t know who his friends outside of you were, so there was no way of you going to ask where he could be for lunch, and you were on the verge of giving up and going back to your group. While taking a detour walking the long way back to the cafeteria entrance, you noticed a boy sitting on a bench under a tree close to one of the classroom windows, a familiar overlapping bang covering the ride side of his face. You grinned to yourself before making your way – of course he’d be in the most isolated place in the whole school.

You ran to him, frantically waving and shouting his name before he finally looked up, giving you a small smile and wave back. Once you got there, you plopped next to him as you let out a deep breath and laid your head on his shoulder.

This time he didn’t flinch.

“What do your friends think?”

“hm?”

“You’re always ditching them for me….” Junpei replied sheepishly as he turned his head to the other side.

“Hey.” You said ignoring his statement, you pulled out your airpods and put one in your ear and one in his. “Give me your number.” You said handing your phone to him.

After he added himself as a contact to your phone, he noticed you quickly send him a link before you quickly snatched his phone from his hand, saving your contact as ‘y/n <3’.

“I made you something.” You said before sending him a link. He checked his phone and the message read, ‘For Junpei.’ With a red heart next to it. “It was a bunch of songs I liked, and I thought you’d like them too. And songs that made me think of you. Let’s listen to some together.”

You were about to hit play before you heard him sniffling next to you. You didn’t miss the tear drop that fell on top of his screen that he was staring at intensely. He had a small smile and blush on his face. Instinctively, you took out a handkerchief that was in your school uniform pocket and bringing it up to him, wiping his slight tear-stained face as he was gliding his fingers through the screen softly. “Are you okay?”

“No one’s ever really...gotten me anything.…let alone made me something.”

A slight frown developed on your face as he continued to stare at the screen in awe, finally beginning to scroll through the songs you’ve chosen to compile together for him. Once his cheeks were no longer tear stained you went back to your original position, sneaking your hand on top of his, squeezing it to grab his attention. He slowly looked to the side to face you, eyes shifting from you and the screen.

“I guess this makes me your best friend.”

He smiles and nods at you, “Yeah, you’re my best friend y/n.”

Your eyes widened at the statement; your breath became rigid as you quickly averted your eyes to the ground. You brought your knees closer to you, wrapping your arms around them and laying your head on top of your knees. Junpei chuckled to himself, he never thought he’d be the one to finally make you flustered.

“Start with Frank Oceans songs.” You said in almost a whisper “I think you’ll like them.”

He started to play the music, sitting back against the tree, bringing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer to him.

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum.

It felt as if a drum was going through steady rhythm in your chest. The blood flow rushed to the tip of your fingers, your pulse feeling like a wave flowing throughout your body. His hug triggered a rush of adrenaline that shot through you like a drug. Taking three deep breathes you tried your best to compose yourself, finally lifting your heard from your knees to see him. His head was laid against the tree, eyes closed listening to the song that was playing.

The roles finally reversed, Junpei finding peace with his hold on you yet you couldn’t help but feel a nervous wreck at the situation at hand. You wanted to feel comfortable, you wanted to engulf yourself in the music just as he’s doing but for some reason unknown to you, you were just so damn nervous.

Finally bringing your knees down, you looked up at Junpei seeing a relaxed smile on his face, eyes still closed before he opened one after feeling you move around. He gave a slight smirk before closing his eyes again, not letting his grip on you go. Breathless, you couldn’t find it in yourself to relax in that moment, he’s never made that kind of face to you before nor has he ever looked that confident.

Twiddling your thumbs and avoiding looking at his face, you felt a slight guilt creep up on you. Junpei, your now declared best friend, finally looks confident and finally feels comfortable with you, so why did you feel so weird? You remember when you met him, he was easily embarrassed and insecure, even you could tell that, and you’ve just met him. He finally shows a bit of confidence and you felt a foreign feeling – your heart racing, palms sweating, feeling heat flow through your body, what reason did you have to feel so nervous about someone you were so used to be around, unless –

Oh.

Before you let yourself finish that thought, your eyes caught another movie poster sticking out from him bag. Seeing this as your chance to ruin this movement, you quickly reached over him, causing him to jump, as you took out the poster sticking out of his bag.

'Killer Klowns From Outter Space’.

“You’re a big fan of movies, aren’t you?” You said as you hesitantly looked him in the eye. Just because you were a nervous wreck internally doesn’t mean you had to act on it, you thought to yourself.

He gave you a closed eye smile before responding, “Yeah, are you? Do you like horror movies?”

“mmm, no. not really. My mom hates this movie actually. You should invite me over, then we could watch movies together.” You grinned noticing the blush form onto his face before he stuttered out an “okay.”

Finally, the roles going back to how they should be.

--------------------

Your ankle continued throbbing as you dragged yourself through the empty halls of your school. The halls that during the day are filled with laughter and voices became eerily quiet at this time of the day. Everyone occupied in their club activities there was no room for useless roaming within the halls.

Wincing in pain, you begin to regret saying you didn’t need help going to and from the nurse’s office. During cheer practice you fell from the top of the pyramid, hurting your ankles as you fell roughly onto the mat. ‘You’re lucky you didn’t twist your ankle, just rest and it should be fine in a few days.’ The nurse told you. The feeling of your pulsating ankle and how every step felt like needles seeping through your skin, you had a tough time believing that statement.

You began to regret taking the long way back to the club room, wanting to take a detour of the halls before having to be forced to sit and watch your club members until the end of practice, until you heard a voice that was all too familiar with you now.

Sneaking to the door labeled ‘movie club’ where the noise was coming from, you opened it slightly while peeking your head through it. In it, you saw a very excited Junpei speaking to two other boys. He was going on about the complexities of a plot to one of his favorite horror films, The Conjuring, you were guessing based on the plot, but you couldn’t be too sure, you hated horror films.

Then you saw it. His eyes bright with pleasure and contentment, the most genuine wide smile you’ve seen him wear since the moment you’ve met him. You couldn’t pass this up, you quickly brought your phone up and snapped a picture of Junpei smiling. You wanted to snap the picture and make your way back to your club, giving Junpei some free time from you and enjoy the first moment you’ve seen of him and his friends outside of you.

But this was you, and with your luck the flash from your phone was on and caught the attention of the three boys in the room. As all eyes made their way to the door you sheepishly opened it, giving a guilty smile followed by a small giggle.

“Junpei!” you said cheerily to mask the embarrassment you were facing at the moment. “Movie club, huh? It makes sense, you do love your movies.”

“(y/n), what…what are you doing..here..and did you just..did you just – ”

“Sorryyyy” you whined as you made your way to the table they were all seated at, pulling out a chair for yourself, “You just looked so happy! I don’t even think I’ve seen you that excited to talk to me. I wanted to remember that face, you should show it more.” You gushed out.

That caused a gasp from the two club members sitting at each side of you and a frantically embarrassed Junpei.

“Junpei, how do you know (y/n)?” the one with glasses asked shamelessly. His face was familiar, you couldn’t help but intensively stare at him, ignoring the blush on his face due to your gaze.

“You’ve been to my tournaments?” You asked, recalling seeing him in the stands holding a sign with your school name on it. All he could do was gulp and nod as you backed up from him, “thanks for your support!” you chirped.

“You told me you did martial arts….” Junpei tried not to stare at you, your uniform hugging your body tightly. The way your skirt was risen up due to the sitting position and how your top squeezed your chest, it left little to the imagination and Junpei didn’t want to feel like he was disrespecting you. He knew it was just a uniform, but the way it complimented your body, the way your hair was styled for the uniform, along with the sweat from your forehead that was dripping...the sight in front of him was dangerous, you were dangerous.

“Yeah and I got bored. This year I wanted art club, but my mom said my future would be more promising if I stayed in the athletic department.” You explained, “So I decided the sport with the cutest uniform. Don’t you think I look cute, Jun-pei?” you said batting your eyelashes at him, hoping he would look at you the way his club members were. His club members gasped at you of all people flirting with their club president, and all Junpei could do was nod his head as he glanced at you for a second, quickly switching his view from you to the movie he was holding on his hand.

“I should go. I bet they’re waiting for me. I wish I was in a club like this, you all seem so relaxed.” You brought your body up, stretching before you pushed the chair back into the original position. “I hope you don’t mind me crashing your club when I don’t feel like being in mine, Jun-pei.” You sang out before dragging yourself out of the room.

“How the fuck did you manage to get so close to y/n?”

-------------------------------

For the first time, it was Junpei who was waiting for you outside of the club gates. Normally if you weren’t already there, he would walk home alone and just see you in class the next day or you would chase him in the halls, whining about how he didn’t eat with you the day before.

He didn’t miss how the fresh colors of the sky brushed upon your skin as he saw your figure making its way towards him. It hits him – seeing you walk towards him with what’s left of the sun kissing your skin, this is what he’s been missing out on while leaving you to walk alone? You grin as you make your way towards him, your usual skip replaced with you wobbling to him. He noticed you coming towards him carrying a box of chocolates and a letter, you just got another confession. It would have been your tenth one this week, not as if he was counting or anything.

Every time he experienced you carrying gifts along with love letters, every time eyes would linger the two of you in the hall, and the dirty looks you seemed to miss when leaving your group of friends to be with him, his self-doubt would whisper harsh words in his brain: what did you even see in him?

“I think this is the first time you’ve waited for me! About time.” You said linking your arm around his.

“You got another one.”

“Yeah, this time from Shota.” You missed the way Junpei winced at the name you just said. His arm unlinked with yours, staying in place as you still walked forward before stopping. You turned to him with a questioning look.

“What..um..what do you think of him?”

“He’s kind of scary.” You admitted, “I feel like his personality is fake. His smile has a bit of a sinister undertone, don’t you think? I mean, we’re in the same circle so I tolerate him. I wouldn’t call him my friend though.”

“You deserve better friends. Yours are jerks.” He spat out, not even realizing the word vomit coming from his mouth. “You reject all these guys…you could have whoever you wanted. Why?”

You brought your hand to your chin, squinting your eyes deep in thought. You never truly thought about why you rejected the confessions you would get; you just knew that you didn’t want them.

“Most of the guys who confess to me are a bit much, I guess you could say. Too aggressive, too competitive, not really on the sweet side. Makes sense, I’m an athlete so naturally I’m surrounded by them and those are common traits in the most successful athletes, I guess.”

Finally, as if a light went off in your head you gave off a wide smile to Junpei at your new discovery.

The reflection of dawn hit you, Junpei saw you as an angel in the very moment. The orange-gold glow bouncing off your body, your eyelashes reflecting the light being given to you by the sky, you were glowing and your sweet voice sounding like honey as you said,

“I like very kind, considerate men…and of course, cute. Now that I think about it, my type sounds a lot like you, doesn’t it?”

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[drabbles-mc]

Exceptions (1/2)

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Part 2

Warnings: language, mentions of smoking/alcohol

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Been mulling over this little two-part fic for a while. Love me some Juice content haha. This part is all fluff, part 2 is a nice balance of angst and fluff. Hope you enjoy! xo

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You’d worked at the bar for a few months, and everyone was kind to you. But you hadn’t really become overly close with anyone. You knew how easily friendship could be construed into something else and you really were here because it was a good paying gig. You were a friend of a friend to the club so when they needed a bartender and you met the qualifications, they didn’t give it much of a second thought to throw you back there. You didn’t start trouble, didn’t ask too many questions, and made good strong drinks. They couldn’t have asked for anything more.

At the heart of it, it was nothing more than a customer service gig. Sure, most everyone you served was part of the MC or a friend of the club, but you didn’t treat them any differently because of it. The same as you had done at your previous gigs, you were nice but you didn’t tolerate any disrespect. There were a lot of egos put in check the first few weeks that you were working there and you were surprised that you hadn’t been pulled aside and spoken to about it.

Once you all sort of fell into a flow, the guys quickly realized that you were content to chit-chat but you were keeping them at arm’s length for your sake and theirs. There was something to be said about being ignorant to the goings on of SAMCRO. It wasn’t lying under oath if you really didn’t have a solid clue as to what any of them were doing. They respected that, even if they didn’t always like the way you would wave them off if they were talking about something within earshot of you.

Most of the guys had given up on trying to get cozy with you once you shot them down with a considerable amount of force. Opie checked in on you on a somewhat consistent basis—he felt a little obligated to keep an eye on you since Lyla was the one who had sent you in the direction of the club in the first place. He was always kind to you but he knew and respected that you had pretty firm boundaries with all of them, including himself. As long as you let him know that you were content, safe, and that no one was bothering you at the time, he would leave you be and you really loved that about him.

The only other person who would try to get and keep your attention was Juice. And that was how you found yourself trying and failing to bite back the laughter that you could feel building up inside your chest. You were leaning onto the bar, directly across from Juice who was plopped on a stool in front of you. He was talking about the antics that went down on the shop earlier in the day, and the way that he spoke and gestured, along with the light in his eyes, made it impossible not to laugh and get roped into every word that he said.

There was a boyish charm and innocence to him that you had to admire. He had tried to flirt with you at first and you shot him down instantly, not looking to start playing any games with anyone. He backed off for a little while, giving you your space. But after a couple weeks he wound up right back at the bar, coaxing conversations out of you whenever there was a lull in drink orders. He kept it platonic, carefully choosing his words so you couldn’t shoo him away for being flirtatious or inappropriate. For that reason alone, you rewarded him with some of your time. Plus, there were worse people to look at on the other side of the bar throughout the night.

The later it started to get, the more you tried to encourage everyone to either go home or back to their dorms. Or really just anywhere besides the bar. You hated trying to clean up around people passed out drunk everywhere. It only ever got out of control on the nights of big parties, but you didn’t see any harm in making sure that it stayed that way.

The main expanse of the bar was almost completely empty. There were a few girls getting ready to leave, and Juice was still sitting across the bar as you wiped it down and started stacking glasses in the dishwasher.

You chuckled and shook your head, “Don’t you have somewhere you gotta be, Juice?”

He shook his head, “No, not really.”

You looked down at your watch, “It’s late. Better get to bed if you’re going to wake up and actually make it to work tomorrow.”

“That sick of me, Y/N?”

You had to let out a quiet laugh when you saw his puppy-dog eyes, “You know that’s not true. I would definitely tell you if I was sick of you. Pretty sure I have before,” you laughed.

It got a chuckle out of him, “That’s true. Alright. I’m going to bed then. See you tomorrow?”

You nodded, “See you tomorrow.”

He wandered back towards his dorm and you let out a long sigh once he was out of sight. You looked around at the now-empty clubhouse and a wave of relief washed over you. You set about straightening up and throwing things away. This was easily the longest part of your shift—serving drinks was easy.

Once everything was cleared away, you grabbed yourself a bottle of beer from behind the bar and hoisted yourself up so that you were sitting on top of it, legs swinging idly between the barstools. Never in a million years did you think that you would’ve ended up in this position. Then again, not much of your life was predictable or even felt like it was in your control.

You nursed your beer and soaked up the silence of the clubhouse for a while, finally deciding that it was time for you to leave and go home too. You locked the door behind you as you left, not that it really mattered all that much. You walked out to your car and drove home in silence, just glad to be free of the noise and chaos.

By the time the next afternoon rolled around, you were ready to do it all over again. You shimmied into your jeans and tank top, opting for a pair of comfortable boots. You saw how some of the girls could manage the whole night in heels and you admired their dedication, but that just wasn’t something you were capable of or that committed to. You needed to be able to move a lot, and move quickly. And also kick the shit out of someone if it came down to it.

You were setting up the bar when you heard the door open. You looked over, a smile passing over your lips for a moment when you saw it was Juice.

“This is early even for you, Juan Carlos,” you laughed.

He laughed as he set a coffee down on the surface of the bar, “Just wanted to stop and give you this.”

You raised your eyebrows, “Oh really?”

He held his hands up in surrender, his own coffee cup dangling lightly from his hand, “Just a friendly gesture. I know you were here late last night.”

You nodded slowly as you grabbed the cup and took a sip. You smiled over at him, “I’ll allow it only because this is perfect.”

He chuckled, “Good,” he waved and headed towards the door, “See you later, Y/N.”

You watched as he walked out of the clubhouse. You lightly drummed your fingers on the countertop as your mind raced. You spun the cup and laughed when you saw that he had written his phone number on it.

“In case you’re ever in need of a friendly conversation. Or bail.”

You chuckled and against your better judgment, added his number to your contacts. You didn’t know when you were actually going to reach out to him, but he was a good person to be able to reach, especially if you really did land yourself in some kind of trouble. A warm feeling spread through your chest and you tried to ignore it as you went back to what you were originally doing when he walked in.

You were lucky enough to not have to work the entire length of your usual shift. You weren’t supposed to be the only bartender even though it usually ended up feeling that way. They had the prospect filling in for the second half of the night and you liked him, but not enough to tell him that he didn’t have to work the bar. Giving him a loving pat on the back, you grabbed yourself a beer and headed out of the clubhouse.

It never ceased to amaze you how chilly it got at night despite the fact that the afternoons would be sweltering sometimes. Every night you told yourself to bring a sweatshirt and you remembered about fifty percent of the time. It wasn’t one of those nights, though. You felt goosebumps break out over your arms as you plopped onto the picnic table outside the clubhouse. You looked up at the sky as you sipped on your beer, letting your mind empty out a bit before you headed home.

You heard heavy footsteps behind you and you glanced over your shoulder. You smiled when you saw that it was Juice. He walked over and stood next to the table, looking at you with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Mind if I sit and grab a smoke?”

You eyed the joint that he was holding and you smiled, “Only if you share.”

“Fine by me,” he chuckled as he plopped down next to you, feet resting on the bench beside yours.

He flicked his lighter and lit the joint in his hand, taking a long drag off of it before handing it over to you. You smiled as you gently took it between your fingers. It had been ages since you last smoked, but you knew that Juice had good connections. Besides, if there was anyone in the club that you would trust with something like that it was Juice—he was too sweet to do something shady, especially to you.

You took a drag and fought the urge to cough as you handed it back to him. You slowly exhaled and laughed, “Sorry about the lipstick.”

He chuckled, “I’ve been told that this is a good shade for me, anyway,” he smiled as he put it back to his lips again.

The two of you sat there in semi-silence, passing the joint back and forth. He was usually so full of energy and had so much to say, you were surprised at how calm and quiet he was.  The outsides of your legs rested against each other and you glanced over at him, but he was so busy staring up at the stars that he didn’t even notice. You let it go.

Opie and Lyla walked out of the clubhouse, his arm draped around her shoulders. He looked at you, eyebrows raised, “All good?”

You nodded, “All good. Thanks, Ope,” you smiled at Lyla, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She nodded and said goodbye as the two of them crossed the lot to Opie’s bike and left. With a deep sigh you felt your body shiver. Juice felt you tremble against him and he looked over at you.

“I can run and grab you a hoodie if you want. I got a bunch in my dorm.”

You shook your head as you stood up, “No, that’s alright. I should get going, anyway.”

“Already?”

You laughed, “Hey, I’m off the clock. I don’t gotta stay here until everyone leaves this time,” you finished off your drink and set the bottle of the table next to him.

“Want a lift home?” there was a smile on his face.

You shook your head with a chuckle, “Not tonight. Thank you, though.”

“Tomorrow night?” he raised his eyebrows.

You smiled and placed a quick, soft kiss on his temple, “Goodnight, Juice.”

You could feel him watching you as you crossed the lot to your car, and you shook your head to yourself as you tried to contain your laughter. There was something about him that made you let it go—if it had been any of the other guys you would’ve shot a snarky comment their way for their lingering eyes. But with Juice it was just different.

Once you got home, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized that you’d been holding. You dropped your purse to the floor next to your discarded shoes and made your way towards the bathroom to shower and rinse off the night. You closed your eyes as the soap suds slid down your body and made their way towards the shower drain. There wasn’t a single thought that crossed your mind that really stuck—each one of them disappeared as quickly as they showed up, and that was more than fine by you.

After your shower, you pulled on your most comfortable set of pajamas and huddled down in bed with the latest book that you had been making your way through. With a deep sigh you let yourself really settle against your pillows and under your blanket. You opened the book and dove in. However, every few pages or so, you found your eyes straying over to your phone.

Finally, after arguing with yourself about it for longer than you should have, you grabbed your phone and sent a text to Juice, “Don’t need bail. Just wanted to say thank you for tonight.”

You assumed that he knew it was you, because the response was immediate, “Don’t have to thank me for anything,” a few moments later a second text came through, “I should be the one thanking you for not kicking me off the table”

You laughed and shook your head as you typed out your response, “Well in that case…you’re welcome”

Shortly after sending the message, you passed out. Your hand was loosely cupping your phone as you drifted off to sleep, as if you were waiting for something more to happen.

[malaismere]

C2 Ship Stats

With the end of C2, I wanted to post the final versions of the ship stats I've been working on based off of number of fics on ao3.

First up - top 5 ships + Fjorester and Nott/Yeza

As you can see....Shadowgast really knocked it out of the park these last few months, didn’t it? For comparison, the first 3 months of C2 had just under 800 fics total. This graph really works as evidence to how big an impact ships being canon is - Beauyasha drops off with the reveal of Zuala, and Beaujester and Widojest both rise with the recognition of the crushes - Beaujester dropping off when Beauyasha becomes canon, and Widojest dropping off with Fjorester becoming canon. Veth/Yeza also hits it’s high point with the reveal of their marriage and their reunion. Other points of interest is that Widomauk peaks with Molly’s death, and you can see the peak from the Essek reveal spiking Shadowgast.

Fjord

Fjord actually spends most of the time with Widofjord as the dominant ship - starting high with the first few months of C2, before subsiding briefly to Widojest, only to rise sharply following the pirate arc. Fjorclay/Teahaw takes over following Fjord becoming a paladin of the Wildmother, and falls with Fjorjester becoming more explicit and Taliesin officially stating Caduceus’ aromantic status in game. For background ships, Fjord/Molly stays a reliably notable presence, although it definitely drops with the rise of Fjorclay, and while Fjord/Avantika peaks during the pirate arc, by the end of the year it’s essentially nil. Fjord/Nott spends most of the time very low, but has notable peaks in mid 2019 and early 2021.

BEAU

2018 is dominated by Beauyasha, but 2019 is dominated by Beaujester. It isn’t until 2020 when Beauyasha hits, but when it does - well, it stays pretty consistently off the charts.Aside from a peak of Beau/Keg following their sleeping together, Beau’s third ship remains a consistent Beau/Jester/Yasha - which is by far the top poly ship in the fandom.

CALEB

Caleb has two ships that break the graph - Widomauk, during it’s high point following Molly’s death, and Shadowgast following the reveal in early 2020 and throughout 2021 while Essek travelled with the party. Widomauk is the dominant fic through 2018 and the start of 2019, but after the introduction of Essek, it really becomes a back and forth between Shadowgast and Widojest. Also notable, Widobrave reaches it’s highest peak with Veth’s transformation.

VETH

The two top ships in the fandom, Beauyasha and Widomauk, have never fallen below 50 fics for a three month period. Veth only has one ship that breaks 50, and it’s her husband during the period where they reunite. Widobrave peaks at 50 exactly with her transformation and the kiss. This graph is also notable as the only one where you can actually see how popular Fjord/Nott is.

JESTER

Top table ships! Fjorester starts and ends as the top ship, but the middle is nothing but Beau and Caleb duking it out. Most notable is the one period in early 2020 where Beauyashter actually ties with Fjorester. Yashter really drops out following Beauyasha becoming canon.

MOLLY

This is a graph of Widomauk with...just a little Fjolly thown in. The Molly/Essek fics at the end are almost exclusively Molly/Caleb/Essek fics.

YASHA

Much like Molly, this is a graph of Beauyasha that also shows some other things. There’s the Yasha/Zuala peak around the reveal of her existence, and Beauyashter actually is the second ship through 2020 and up until 2021, which is impressive.

CADUCEUS

Starts out really Clayleb, then goes really Fjorclay, and ends with a total of 35 ship tags for the entirety of 2020 (aka what Shadowgast has reliably made in a week for the past few months.

I’m not going to do a graph for any of the NPCs because they’re mostly eithe really small or really boring (guess what Essek’s top ship is.) But I will include some Blumendrei because it is actually pretty interesting -

Astrid, Eodwulf, and Trio are combining fics tagged with Bren and Caleb, and not counting repeats, and Trio counts all fics tagged with at least one of these, with no repeats. The peak in spring 2019 is during the build up of first meeting the captured scourger, the peak in December is the introduction of Astrid and Eodwulf in person, and the peak in summer 2020 is the dinner with Ikithon. What’s really interesting is that after that point, there’s a sharp increase in how many of the fics are trio vs being seperate or Caleb/Astrid.

And, not a ship thing - but here’s a graph for the total fics, monthly, for Critical Role - the red dots are for the start of a new arc.

The lowest point from C2 was January 2018 (190) - and the highest point of C1 was December 2016 (245). The second lowest point for C2 was the last month of the hiatus, but it was still above the C1 peak - and the highest has been these past two months, beating out the previous peak of March 2020.

[exquisitley-obsessed]

Fiancé’s, Firebirds, Foxes & Fawns: 15

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed

Summary: A few weeks after Briallyn's attempt at uniting with Koschei, Lucien opens the door of Lockhart Manor to find Elain, cold from the rain and holding a note from the High Lady of the Night Court demanding her to assist Lucien in building alliances with the human councils. Forced to work together by their exhausted High Lord and Lady, Elain is able to convince anyone to do anything, while Lucien has the acquaintances to go anywhere he likes. Together, they attempt to unite the fae and mortal lands and unravel the deal made between Koschei and Vassa, while Lucien remains haunted by his own promise to Elain's father. ELUCIEN, POST-ACOSF

Pairings: Elucien, Elain x Lucien

Warnings: uncomfortableness and arguments

THIS FIC’S MASTERIST

MY MASTERLIST

AO3

Chapter Fifteen: Spring Showers

Two full days had passed in Spring, during which Elain had seen very little progress of her master plan. Both days she’d woken at the crack of dawn to a seemingly empty house. Breakfast was always left for her, mostly consisting of dried meat and nuts and, if she were lucky, the odd fruit.

After dining alone in the desolate wasteland of Spring Manor, she’d lace up her boots, tie her pinny, and make her way into the garden.

Despite seeing nothing of her mate nor the High Lord, the garden was coming along finely. It felt nice to be where Elain was happiest, where she got to put her best skill to use.

She was no good at numbers and couldn’t read books for extended periods of time, but out here amongst the sun and plants, a world in which life quite literally blossomed, she was brilliant.

In the short time she’d been here she’d managed to cut back the majority of the overgrown bushes and had begun to draw out more in-depth plans of the beds. In her planning she had woven together a story told in botany. Streams of Lavender and Lilac would melt into pockets of Dahlia’s and then crowns by Baby’s-Breath. To some, they may simply see the flowers for pretty delicacies, but anyone with a trained eye could see the story told in the petals.

The only downside to her work was having no one to share it with. Wherever Lucien and Tamlin were, whatever they were doing, it kept them away from Spring Manor throughout the whole day.

The second day of aloneness Elain had stayed up well past sun-down, cuddled near the fire she’d started, playing with the pages of her plans while staring at the door. It was Nuala who had found her asleep on the bare wood and winnowed her into her pathetic excuse for a bed.

Strangely, it was only the presence of the bond that kept her calm. Whenever she brushed up against it she could feel Lucien, safe and alive, usually engaged in deep thought.

Another day passed. No sign. No note. Just an empty house that felt haunted to keep her company.

Elain was beginning to hit a wall with the garden. With the tools in Tamlin’s extended shed (most of them rusty in their disuse), there was only so much she could do. Now she needed new seeds and, honestly, manpower. People to build greenhouses and garden benches, bags of gravel for paths and wooden planks for walkways.

It left Elain to eventually undo her pinny and return to the house whilst the sun was still high in the sky, as she had finally done all she could.

Walking around the empty, broken rooms, she found her predicament rather funny. A few weeks ago she had been in the Nigh Court, surrounded by people and yet, totally alone. Now she was truly alone and yet, she felt better than she had in years.

If only he were here - some part of her mind hissed and Elain battered it away.

He was busy. He was important. He had better things to do than entertain her petty attempts at luring Tamlin. She should’ve known it was a stupid idea, he was probably lying on the balcony, too chivalrous to tell her that she was a fool for thinking she could pull this off. That she should remember her place and-

Elain cut off the line of thought by bursting into a previously unexplored room.

Dark, heavy curtains blocked out most of the light and all that could be made in the dark were the shadows of furniture, towering bookcases, and elegant chairs with glinting gold detailing.

Moving further into the room the air became thicker with dust and eventually, Elain was far enough that she could yank back the curtain so several streams of sunlight could shower down into the room.

In these columns of light, Elain saw dust floating like snow, and a shiver ran the length of her spine.

This was a heavy room, the air in here seemed swirling and dark. Like with the sight of Vassa’s ring something deep with Elain had perked up its head in interest.

What had brought her here? Elain knew by now that there was no such thing as coincidence. Not with her.

From the looks of it, the room was a simple study. Not used much, and mostly untouched by Tamlin’s claws. It was simply unloved, empty with no sign of care.

Maybe she was showing herself this room for a reason.

The last known seer came from spring.

How long ago? In Tamlin’s age? Surely not. But there must be something, something…

Pulling a book off a shelf the cover jammed and pulled out several other copies which all went clattering to the floor in a cloud of dust.

Coughing, Elain bent and quickly began to pick up the books, feeling like a child stealing from the sweetie cupboard.

As she re-stacked the books on the shelf Elain’s eyes caught on the final copy. A book that looked as old as the grounds themselves. The cover was brown with whorls in gold embellished on the front. Across the top, someone had etched a string of symbols with a sharp object. The words read:

I prophecui na- hen, nin fawn, nin lóth tui

Looking at the lettering, Elain couldn’t help but feel as though she had seen the shape of them before. The words were familiar in the way they arched across the cover.

Beneath this inscription was a name in fine silver ink, written in the common tongue.

Daia Honey Blossom, of Spring Court.

For a reason beyond Elain, she paused as she went to put the book back on the shelf. It seemed to be calling out for her, pulling her in and demanding her attention.

Without thinking about it, Elain slipped the small hardcover into the pocket of her dress and turned back to the room.

Still empty. She was still alone, despite the omnipresent force she felt pushing down on her the second she had crossed the barrier into this room.

Lethargically, she continued to move around the room before coming across a cabinet full of fine china teetering on its side. Without thinking, Elain jammed her foot against the wooden leg and gripped onto the side, hoping to push it back upright before it teetered and smashed the jewels within.

As she began to push Elain realised that it had been wedged against a crook in the wall, a crook that was stopping it from crashing into the floor, a crook she’d just pushed it out of.

Too late she realised the cabinet was now free to fall against her, too late she wondered if she was strong enough to push against seven feet of mahogany and glass.

In a flash, Elain threw up her hands and pushed against the wood and-

And it stopped. The china clinked as the cabinet fell a few inches before halting. Unable to move her hands for fear that she was the only thing upholding it, Elain looked around desperately.

Perhaps if she began shouting, Nuala would appear. Or, if she were lucky, Lucien.

No. No was not the time to be thinking of-

Elain froze as she looked up. Around a foot above her hands was another pair of hands. Pale skin, littered with scars.

For a moment, Elain was taken back to her dream, a cold room with endless shadows, grey skin, white scars, an invasive voice in her mind-

“Calm down,” Tamlin’s voice seethed behind her. “If you don’t stop shaking I will let this thing fall.”

The High Lord’s voice hit her like a stone to the head, and in an instant, she came back into herself. Awkwardly, Tamlin began to push the cabinet back onto the upright position whilst Elain remained caged between the two objects – a shield in case anything went wrong.

No sooner had Tamlin appeared, he was already striding for the door leaving Elain by the now fixed cabinet and giving her a view of his clothes, now less ragged and seemingly quite tidy.

“Wait,” Elain said for some reason beyond her. The beast stopped in his tracks. Perhaps it was the adrenaline coursing through her or the fact she hadn’t seen anyone other than Nuala for the past few days but she suddenly wished the High Lord to stay for a few moments. She had so many questions. But, instead, she simply went with a small, “Thank you.”

The High Lord observed her, assessed her in a way that was clinical and yet, enigmatic. What was he thinking? What did he know? Elain had been ready to jump right into dealing with him but Nuala’s words had made her think twice.

Nodding at the cabinet, Tamlin said, slowly, “I know you’re trying to help. But don’t try fixing something that’s beyond you.” His eyes settled once more on her, piercing into her with their emerald glow. “That’s how you get hurt.”

Elain felt dumbstruck and…vulnerable. Where was Lucien?

“Feyre spoke very little about you,” he said, suddenly, his eyes back on her, assessing her as they had on that first day. Elain froze, not knowing what to do. “She ranted about the other one, Nesta, about her temper and insolence. But you were never mentioned.”

“There’s not much to say.”

“Oh, I think we both know that’s not true.” Elain bit her tongue, trying anything to stop his discomfort from showing. She didn’t want him to win.

“Compared to the likes of Nesta it’s not surprising I wasn’t mentioned,” Elain angled herself more towards the door. “She is simply louder and…brighter than I.”

“Maybe,” Tamlin husked, his fingers fluttering by his side. “But that doesn’t mean you were not worth mentioning. In fact, standing here right now, I wish Feyre spoke of you more. I wish Feyre told me everything there is to know about you. Your likes, your dislikes…just who is Elain Archeron?”

“No one,” she said quickly, too quickly. “And I like being no one. I like being the third sister, so perhaps it is a good thing she didn’t mention me at all.”

“I can smell a lie you know,” Tamlin prowled forward in a way that was purely animalistic. Oh God, where was Lucien? “You Archeron sisters have the same tells, the same little quirk of your lip when you’re not telling the truth.

“I didn’t lie.”

“Lie. Again.” Tamlin was close now. Too close.

Elain didn’t have anything to say, she didn’t understand what he wanted from her, how to play this game and, more importantly, how to win.

Tamlin had gone back to assessing her, two stones of green roving over her body in a way that made Elain want to coil in on herself. Though she refused. She stood tall and still, and hoped whatever this was, it would end soon.

“You come into my home,” he began, taking a step forward. “Sleep in a poor excuse for a bed,” another step. “Re-plant my gardens,” Tamlin’s breath ghosted across Elain’s collarbones, and she shivered in response.

Danger, her mind screamed. Get out. Now.

”You rummage around my libraries,” Tamlin’s hand raised and pressed against her stomach, his eyes watching her intently the entire time. Slowly, his hand drifted across the front of her dress before dipping into her pocket. “You steal from my archives…”

The apology was already on her lips, but Tamlin didn’t let her speak.

“Know this, Archeron.” Elain felt Tamlin finger the book from within her pocket. “I was a fool once. Not anymore. I know not to trust a pretty face, even one as breath-taking as yours…”

His head dropped and he ghosted a kiss against her cheek as he retracted his hand.

“That does not mean that you don’t…intrigue me…”

Elain stared, wide-eyed into Tamlin’s piercing, cold, green eyes. Her mask had well and truly dropped, and she felt bare underneath his gaze, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t been since the war.

Then, with a sudden crack and metallic stench of magic, Tamlin winnowed into thin air.

Heaving out several breaths, Elain took the back of her sleeve and scrubbed at her cheek - the cheek he had kissed.

What had he meant by that? What was that?

Without any assessment Elain knew Tamlin was nowhere on the grounds, in fact, she would probably guess he was on the other side of Spring Court by now.

And yet the quick-tempered Lord had left her unscathed, with a kiss on her cheek, and a book in her pocket.

That night Elain dreamt of a fox and a doe running through the woods, they were chasing each other in a playful way, dipping in and out of the trees in a race against time. But the further they ran, the more desperate they got, behind them something loomed. Something big and dark, beastly in nature, no more than a large shadow. The fox and doe were no longer playing, they were running for their lives.

Elain had woken to an empty house. She skipped breakfast, ignoring the food that was left for her out of spite. She walked through the house, she stood outside Lucien’s door for several minutes, debating whether or not it was pathetic to pop her head in just to see if his sheets still smelled like him. It was pathetic. She moved on.

Elain had woken to an empty house. She skipped breakfast, ignoring the food that was left for her out of spite. She walked through the house, she stood outside Lucien’s door for several minutes, debating whether or not it was pathetic to pop her head in just to see if his sheets still smelled like him. It was pathetic. She moved on.

She walked outside, past the gardens and out into the world. She walked farther than she had gone before, father than she knew was safe.

She ignored that she was taking a risk. She told herself to just keep walking, one foot in front of another, at least until her aloneness had shrunk.

She was walking down a path that led into fields of wheat when she spotted a shadow sitting on the white picket fence, picking at the plants.

It was wasn’t him.

“He’s not back,” he spoke without looking. “He won’t be for some time.”

”Oh,” Elain hated the way she suddenly felt vulnerable. She hated Tamlin for making her feel so. She hated Lucien for leaving her, and the fact that his absence made her feel so exposed.

“I sent him away.”

Elain didn’t have anything to say to that, in fact, she didn’t know how to talk to Tamlin at all, not after what happened yesterday. So when Tamlin looked at her and told her “Let’s go out…I want to show you something…” She didn’t know what to say.

The High Lord noticed her hesitation and, if she were not mistaken, there was a flicker of hurt that crossed his face. With a lithe athleticism, the man leapt from the fence to the grassy path in front of her. He was once again looking at her like she was some great puzzle, one that was his destiny to solve.

“Do you trust me?”

A big question, with a terribly complicated answer. Did she trust him? She didn’t know. Her body told her no, her fight or flight response screamed at her. Her hackles were raised. Her adrenaline pumping. But something deep down, some empathetic core that she could never shake, knew the real answer.

”Yes.”

And for whatever reason, as Elain uttered that single word, she felt as though she were soothing Tamlin more than anyone.

***

Elain didn’t know where Tamlin was leading her, she didn’t ask, but at some point, she thought he was punishing her again. They had walked for hours, and she knew that because she had watched the sun drift through the sky, arching over midday before sinking well into the afternoon.

All Elain had to look at were the rolling hills of Spring, and the white of Tamlin’s shirt. He was barely sweating whereas she felt as though she were hyperventilating in her thick gown.

He had walked her up hills and down them again. Through the woods and across streams, past huts and through a village before once more cresting up a hill.

They were halfway up before the clouds mercifully smothered the sun. Elain felt herself climatizing, her body cooling with the thinner weather - until the rain began.

As they crested the hill the weather had quickly turned from a light shower to thunderous, impossible rain. Each droplet feeling like a dagger, spearing from the heavens and slashing apart the grass.

With each step, each droplet, Elain felt her patience wither and die. If she wanted to be tortured she'd much rather a more classic technique, being chained in Tamlin’s dungeon seemed more attractive than...this.

They reached the top of the hill, the rain soaking Elain to the bone, her hair hanging damply around her face. The High Lord led her over to a small edge of rock, a cliff face with a steep drop before rolling hills flowed into the horizon.

This is where he stopped.

“What are you doing here, Elain?”

She could only stare at him, blankly.

“Pardon?” She was practically shouting over the rain.

Tamlin simply continued to look out, and for a moment, Elain was petrified that he was going to jump.

“If you know everything, if you know who I am - then why did you come.”

Elain could only stare blankly at him. There was no true reason she had come to Spring, she was merely following the path at her feet. In fact, if Lucien wasn’t needed in Spring she knew she would’ve never stepped foot across the border.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.” It was the truth.

“You’ve come here to mock me?” He probed, turning to glare at her through the rain. In those green eyes Elain didn’t see a High Lord, she saw a sacred little boy.

”No.”

”You came to dangle in my face what I once wanted, what was once mine?”

Elain could only stare. Stare and stare until that very last tether within her broke.

She was tired. She was sopping. She was cold. She was alone. Her mate had left without a word. She’d worked herself to the point of exhaustion in those gardens, and it seemed to all be for nought. She didn’t understand her sisters. She didn’t understand her powers. She didn’t know how to help Vassa. She was a fraud. She wasn’t deserving of the life she had. None of it made sense and she felt so, so alone.

“She was never yours!” She bit out, feeling every inch of her body shake in frustration. “She was a prisoner and she died for you!”

Now it was Tamlin’s turn to stare blankly.

“You sat by as my sister lost everything…you sided with the enemy – you hurt Lucien! You-you…you’re the reason I went in the God-Damned Cauldron!”

There it was.

A stillness seemed to settle on the pair despite the world turning to chaos around them.

“Why did you come here?” Tamlin bit out.

I don’t know.

“Does she know you’re here?”

I don’t know.

“Is it him?”

Don’t cry. Don’t cry, you stupid girl.

“I…” don’t know.

“You…”

“I came here, Tamlin, for one very boring reason…” Elain turned to leave. Upset with him, upset with the world, and as she was walking away, all she could think was that she was no longer scared of him falling off the cliff. Not when she wanted to push him off it herself.

“…there is simply nothing else to do.”

***

Tag List: @jvwhyte @ladyelain @softfbangts1 @andwhataboutiit @mads39-blog1 @cinnamon-mentos @chloepereyra

(message/comment if you wish to be added)

[lilliagradiewrites]

evermore (jj maybank)

Summary: Y/N is in a depressive state, but refuses to tell her boyfriend. After she walks out on a party, JJ realizes that something is off, and rushes to comfort her.

*based off of the song “evermore” from Taylor Swift’s new album!!

WC: 2.2k

WARNINGS: Mentions of depression/ symptoms of depression, mentions of anxiety & panic attacks, mentions of suicide/ death. (The reader is at a very low point during this. Please proceed with caution of mentions of depression triggers you.)

A/N: Hey my lovelies! I have a new piece for you. This is a one- shot, and is on the shorter side. If you don’t know, Taylor Swift released a new album on the 11th. I have been so obsessed with it, and one of my favorites from the record is the title track “evermore.” I knew i had to write something based off of that song! This is inspired by that song, and I encourage you to listen to it while you read.

Much love to you all, and happy holidays! I hope you enjoy!!

LET’S DO IT!

~~~~~~

The night was cold as you walked quietly down the street, the old cardigan your best friend gave you wrapped tightly around your shoulders. You weren’t dressed for the mid-october weather, your shorts and tank tops providing little warmth on your shivering body. As much as you hated the cold, it felt good to feel something again.

November was approaching quickly, and as you walked down the street that cold october night, you realized that you hadn’t had a true spark of happiness since that July. Of course, there were moments of joy, but it was never consistent, and lasted a day at the most.

You couldn’t seem to pinpoint the exact moment where everything went wrong, no matter how many times you’d tried. Countless times, you’d retraced your footsteps to find the moment your despair began. Unfortunately, this only resulted in distant memories from better times becoming fresh in your mind, pushing you deeper into the dark hole you were trapped in.

For a while, no one noticed a difference. Your group of friends, whom you adored, didn’t bat an eye when you left a party early because you were ‘tired’ or ‘not in the mood’, despite the fact that you loved parties. It hurt a little that they didn’t see a problem, and that only made the problem worse.

The first person to notice was JJ, your loving boyfriend. The blonde boy was the light of your life, but as your own issues began to overtake you, you found yourself pushing him away unintentionally. He would send texts, asking you to come over and see him. He'd invite you to come out to dinner with the pogues at The Wreck. He’d beg for your permission to show up at your house because he missed you so damn much.

Time after time, you replied with perfectly crafted excuses that left him concerned, but with no questions. That’s all you needed to accomplish, really. If he didn’t ask any questions, then you’d be fine.

The routine was working out pretty well for you in the beginning. JJ and the rest of the group would accept your excuses and go along with what you told them, even if they found it slightly suspicious.

But, after a while, your constant absence finally hit them. It was concerning, especially when it came to someone like you. Your parents weren’t strict, so it wasn’t an obedience thing. You loved parties, and were quite social, so it wasn’t a social anxiety thing. They wondered at their hangouts what could be wrong, but none of them could come up with a viable explanation.

Texts from your friends were lighting up your phone at a constant rate, but you trained yourself to ignore them. Your mind had convinced you that all of them hated you, and were only messaging you as a joke, or because they felt bad.

Though your brain tried to tell itself that JJ didn’t love you either, you were fighting hard against that idea. Even the slightest notion of your boyfriend no longer being interested in you broke you down into tears, so you tried to allow the thought to cross your mind as little as possible.

He texted you every day, asking if you were okay and trying to make plans. He texted you good morning, and goodnight, as well as a few other times throughout the day. He was a wonderful boyfriend, and you appreciated him, but you didn’t have the energy to show him the attention he deserved. You texted back for a while, but eventually gave up, leaving him on read almost every single time.

For the last few weeks, JJ had been broken up with worry. He worried that you were mad at him, that you hated him. He worried that you were leaving him. So, he showed up at your house.

As soon as he walked in your room, he could tell that something was incredibly off. You were normally a somewhat neat person, but your room was in complete disarray. Clothes littered the floor, empty plates and half-eaten bags of chips tossed absentmindedly to various locations.

And you. You looked like you hadn’t changed or bathed in weeks. Your hair was messy, and your face looked as if you’d been crying for years.

When you saw his face, your mask slipped on without a second thought.

“JJ! Hi, babes!”

“Hi, angel.” He replied, concern evident in his voice as he spoke. “I haven’t really seen you in forever. Are you okay?”

You nodded immediately, concealing your true feelings. “I’m okay. I’ve been taking up extra shifts at work because I need money for college soon. I’m trying to save up early. I’ve been so busy and exhausted, I just haven’t had the time or energy to see anybody.”

Lie. You got fired from your job a month ago because you called out ‘sick’ too many times.

JJ was still suspicious, but went accepted your story just as he had many times before.

“Alright, babe. I just miss you a lot. Take a break soon. Are you working tonight?”

“No.” You couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him again.

“Well, then, you’re coming to hang out.”

You shook your head quickly, pulling your hands away from his. “No thanks, JJ. I had a late shift last night and I’m exhausted. Plus, I have an early shift tomorrow morning, and I refuse to go in hungover.”

JJ took your hands back into his, meeting your eyes. “You don’t have to stay late, and you don’t have to drink. Just come for a little bit. Like, literally for an hour. We all just miss you so much.”

When he was looking into your eyes like that, you couldn’t help but say yes. Though you knew you’d come to regret it, the smile on his face after you agreed made it all seem worth it at the time.

“Yes! Okay, my love, I have to go deliver some stuff for Pope’s dad. The party starts at ten, so I’ll pick you up at nine-thirty.”

You didn’t say anything, simply nodding to indicate that you’d heard him and understood what he said.

“Bye, baby. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” It was barely a whisper, but it seemed to be enough for JJ. He gave you one final wave before exiting your bedroom and closing the door in his wake.

When he had gone, your anxiety began to cover you. You had come to hate gatherings and parties, despite the fact that they used to be your main source of happiness and excitement. How were you going to make it through this party?

Sighing, you turned to your bedside table, moving around empty cups to peer at the time on your alarm clock. It was hard to read due to the tears in your eyes blurring your vision slightly. After a moment, you were able to decipher the numbers on the screen. 8:06 PM. You had approximately an hour and half to get ready before your boyfriend would be there to pick you up.

The first half hour, you decided, would be used for praying you were able to make it through this night.

---

About 70 minutes after your boyfriend’s visit, the clock on your bedside table read 9:12 PM. You sat at your vanity, brushing on small amounts of makeup. You didn’t want anything too crazy like you used to do; it just didn’t feel right anymore.

The same thing applied to your outfit. After almost an hour of trying things on, you went for something simple. A sage green tank top, your favorite blue jean shorts, and a basic oversized white cardigan kie had given you. The outfit was basic, but cute nonetheless. You completed the look with your pair of slip-on vans that were so beat up they could barely be classified as white anymore.

Your hair, which you normally would curl or style for parties, had been brushed through and left down. That was all you had the energy for. The party hadn’t even started yet, and you were already exhausted.

At least you had showered. It had been over a week since you last bathed, and this party gave you incentive to take care of yourself. That’s the only thing you were grateful for when it came to this party.

As you finished getting ready, you promised yourself that you would try your best to enjoy the night.

JJ had come to pick you up as he told you he would, at nine-thirty on the dot. He was always careful to be very punctual when it comes to you. He said you looked pretty when you got in his car, and the small compliment warmed your heart significantly.

The party was smaller than your normal ones. The pogues were all there, and they were all happy to finally see you again. You greeted them kindly and took your seat beside JJ, wanting to make the night go by as quickly as possible. You had hardly even arrived and you were already anxious.

As the night went by, your anxiety only got worse. You began to zone out, not paying attention to the conversation. You snapped back to reality when the whole group laughed at some joke someone told, and you just chuckled nervously along, hoping nobody noticed you weren’t being attentive.

A few hours went by, slowly but surely, and you decided that you had to be done for the night. You had been on the brink of a panic attack for the last hour, and it was getting harder to fight it off.

“Alright, guys, I’m tired. I’m probably gonna head home. I’ll see y’all later.” You announced, standing up from your seat. Immediately, JJ stood up with you, leaning into your ear.

“I’m too drunk to drive, babe. Do you think you can wait a little longer for me to sober up?”

You shook your head lightly, pushing him away. “No, it’s ok, babes. I’m just gonna walk. I don’t want to pull you away from the party anyways.”

A look of concern took over the blonde’s face. “I don’t like that. You can’t walk by yourself at night, it’s not safe.”

“I’ll be fine, J.” You assured him. “I live, like, a five minute walk away from here. We’re super close to my house. It’ll be okay.”

JJ continued to insist that you wait, but you insisted on leaving. You reassured him multiple times that you’d be alright, kissed him, grabbed your cardigan and left.

That’s how you ended up in your current position, sobbing into your cardigan sleeve as the night grew colder and colder. You were still walking along the road to your house.

You hadn’t realized how cold it was when you left. Maybe it’s because you;d been sitting up against JJ, his body heat mixing with yours to help keep the both of you warm. Now, you were all alone, with nothing but your thin cardigan to protect you from the chill of october night.

As you walked, and cried, you wondered what it would be like to just stop breathing.

Your thoughts were halted by the sound of footsteps pounding the pavement behind you. Immediately, you tensed up, suddenly scared. Who was running on the streets late at night, besides her? Who had a reason, other than kidnapping or killing someone?

You turned slowly around, and your body relaxed as you realized you recognized the person barreling towards you.

A familiar blonde boy was running in your direction, seemingly desperate to catch up with you. You stopped walking, giving him time to meet you.

“JJ?” You were talking as soon as he was close enough to hear. “What are you doing, babe? You’re supposed to be at the party.”

“I’m walking you home. I’ll go back once I know you’re safe.” He explained. He looked almost triumphant at the fact that he’d caught up with you, but his expression changed to one of concern after he got a good look at your face.

“Y/N… have you been crying?”

You shook your head, almost in instinct, but he saw right through you.

“Yes, you have. Baby, what’s wrong? Did one of us say something? What happened?”

As you looked in his eyes, those beautiful blue orbs as rocky and deep as the ocean, you felt your mask begin to slip.

“I’m not okay, J. I haven’t been for a long time.” Your voice cracked as you spoke, and the tears came almost immediately after you’d finished.

JJ took you into his arms and held you close, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there on the side of the road.

JJ let you sob for a little while, just holding you and murmuring sweet words to you. Eventually, he pulled away and looked directly into your eyes.

“I’m here for you, okay? We’ll get through this, my love. I don’t know exactly what’s going on yet, but we’ll figure it out. Together. I promise. I love you so much, Y/N. So fucking much.”

He pulled you back into his chest, and in that moment, it dawned on you.

This wasn’t the end. This pain wouldn’t last for evermore. It would pass, and JJ would be there with you when it did.

So, for the first time in a while, you finally felt okay.

~~~~

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Reblogs are super helpful and super appreciated. LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!

Happy holidays! - Lillia

[sevenkittensinatrenchcoat]

1998 Film Mungojerrie Rewatch Part 3

I’ve had the pictures saved for this for almost a week now, but if you’ve followed the other recent posts on this blog, you can see that I’ve gotten very sidetracked. I’ll probably continue to get sidetracked a lot, but the rewatches will continue.

Now, it’s time once again for The Awful Battle of the Pekes and the Pollicles and The Rest of the Absurdly Long Full Title Rumpus Cat!

But, the twins skipped rehearsals and Jerrie is about to reach peak Doesn’t Know What’s Going On. While Rumpleteazer seems to be able to awkwardly improvise through it with cues from Munkustrap, her brother, with the smaller half of the braincell, is hopelessly lost the entire time. 

As everyone gets into place, Jerrie talks to Jemima, asking what’s going on now. She can’t help him now, since there’s no time to explain. He’ll just have to go to stage right and try his best.

And that’s who Mungojerrie ended up with a shoe on his head, boxes on his paws, an no time to change out of his crop top before it got covered in even more garbage, with absolutely no idea why any of this is happening. Jerrie’s probably had weirder nights out than this, but at least he thought he did something cool in all those stories.

We’ve already gone over the routine of Jerrie messing up his barks, but, not only did Munkustrap point to each twin when it was their turn, not only did Teazer also start pointing to help Jerrie out when he messed up, Jerrie points to Teazer on her first turn, demonstrating some comprehension of how this is supposed to work. And he still doesn’t get it.

He barks twice again, despite everyone, himself included, being aware that this wasn’t right.

Munkustrap can’t figure out if Jerrie’s doing it on purpose or if he’s just that stupid. Really, it could be either one. If he is doing this to troll, Teazer wasn’t in on it and is ashamed to have been involved at all.

Munkustrap suggests that Jerrie should just forget it and go get in line with the other toms. There’s no line forming at the moment, so Jerrie still doesn’t get it and conditions are not about to improve. Teazer laments her existence. 

While Munkustrap prays to every possible feline deity for strength, Jerrie decides to let Pouncival go ahead of him in the line. He assumes that Pouncival was at the rehearsals and knows what they’re supposed to do, so he’ll just follow him. As a kitten, with parents that would care if he skipped rehearsals, Pouncival probably did attend them. He just really wasn’t paying attention. He also never realized that his costume didn’t quite fit and he couldn’t see out of his shoebox. But, Pouncival always likes to be the first to show up to everything, so he’s the one who volunteered to take the lead. You can see Responsible Adults in the line. Asparagus knows what he’s doing. Even Alonzo or Coricopat probably know, but Pouncival went first in rehearsals because Mungojerrie wasn’t there, so they’re used to it by now.

After a lot of nearly crashing into things and going the wrong way, Munkustrap decides that Pouncival needs to be stopped. Jerrie Doesn’t Know What’s Going On. Why are they stopping? How was he supposed to know that Pouncival was leading them the wrong way? Why can’t they just keep going?

After that fiasco, Asparagus gives Jerrie a talking-to. Jerrie wonders why he’s in more trouble than Pouncival is. All of this is very hard to see because the Scottish Pollicles are hard to ignore. Skimble’s a cat who cannot be ignored by his admission and the camera thinks Misto’s the main character.

Enter Tugger on the bagpipes. Jerrie Doesn’t Know What’s Going On. But, this time, nobody does, except for Tugger himself and Pouncival who was in on it. It’s why he didn’t pay attention during rehearsals. He was starstruck that Tugger wanted to conspire with him of all people.

When everyone gets caught up barking, Jerrie Doesn’t Know What’s Going On, so he’s the only one who’s actually behaving himself. That literally never happens, so the idea that he’s become the well-behaved one probably sends him spiraling into an existential crisis.

Coricopat and Jerrie, apparently independently of one another, because they’re looking opposite directions, both decide that since Doggo Go Pant they should have their tonbues out like panting dogs.

And as everyone cowers in fear of the Great Rumpus Cat, Jerrie Doesn’t Know What’s Going On and just points.

Everything I have to say about Jerrie during the Song of the Jellicles basically applies to Teazer as well. But, the two eventually separate and while Teazer stays up front with the her queen friends, Jerrie wanders off and ends up hanging out with Tantomile. It’s really hard to tell Coricopat and Tantomile appear from a distance, but I’m pretty sure it’s her, because throughout the first part of the Jellicle Ball, Jerrie and Tantomile are consistently right next to each other.

You can see that when everyone gathers together to watch a plane go by and then hiss at the camera, Mungojerrie is between Teazer and Tantomile, because she was who he was standing closest to when they flocked together.

You might be wondering why I keep pointing this out, because two character happening to be standing next to one another for a while doesn’t really mean anything, but I think that this might’ve been supposed to mean something and I’ll explain why.

So, we have this Big Sexy Dance where the younger adult queens (and Etcetera) dance and Tugger leads a group of toms to join them. Jerrie is not one of those toms. He spends the scene sitting on the car, watching from a distance. Jenny’s there too, so I guess he’s taking time to say hi to his mom. What a nice young man!

Skimbledad comes along to join the family as the toms and queens pair off. Alonzo dances with Etcetera and George with Cassandra, though they switch partners for the Can’t Believe It’s a Mating Dance. Since Alonzo and Cassandra already appear to be a thing, I don’t know why they didn’t do this before. Etcetera isn’t supposed to be here and Alonzo just decides that since this dance is already becoming an inappropriate disaster, he might as well make a contribution.

Tugger is with Bomba, which is to be expected. They’re basically Friends With Benefits. Plato and Demeter is a bit random, but since Victoria’s not an option Plato has to go with someone else. Why her and not Tantomile? I mean, that’s left poor Coricopat dancing with his sister while most of the other guys are getting to sexy dance with women they’re not related to.

Well, I think this is because, for whatever reason, whether in-universe or out, Coricopat wasn’t actually supposed to be part of this dance at all. Mungojerrie was. If he’d been cozying up to Tantomile before, he’d obviously pair off with her, leaving Plato and Demeter as the only two left.

Tugger leads a group of toms in another dance later, and it’s all the same toms that he leads here: George, Plato, and Alonzo. But, Coricopat is swapped out for Mungojerrie. What if Mungojerrie was supposed to be one of Tugger’s Boys in both dances? Putting him close to Tantomile earlier in the ball would build up to that and since this particular dance is a bit more sexualized than some of the other dances, having two siblings together wouldn’t have fit the pattern.

During the whole Jellicle Ball, Mungojerrie ends up in the back of the crowd quite a bit with Rumpleteazer is usually right up front, on of the more featured dancers. Since we’ve already seen Jerrie and Teazer’s number, they’re equally skilled dancers, so it’s not like they were trying to hide Drew Varley because he wasn’t good enough. But, combined with his absence from Tugger’s number, I think something was going on there. Varley was playing Mungojerrie on stage during this time, so maybe he was getting tired out from doing the show at night and they decided to lighten the load for him during the filming, but he wasn’t the only one in this situation. Jo Gibb, who played Rumpleteazer was in the exact same situation. This whole thing might just be a bunch of really weird coincidences, for all I know. I don’t doubt the qualifications of anyone involved, but this is odd.

So, pretty that Jerrie dances with Tantomile instead of Coricopat. It makes more sense that way.

Mungojerrie’s back for the ballet, but ballet’s not his style, so He Doesn’t Know What’s Going On. Teazer, on the other hand, appears to be hard at work to impress Victoria, the Ballet Queen of the Jellicles.

Okay, Not Mating Dance Time. All pairs of twin siblings end up together for this bit. Coricopat and Tantomile sit next to each other and stare out into space. Meanwhile, Rumpleteazer is really into watching the Platoria action while Mungojerrie is pretty much already asleep, only looking up occasionally. Both Plato and Jerrie are in the club of Tugger’s Boys and both Victoria and Teazer are part of the Hormonal Trio, so they’re both watching their friends hook up here, which has to an interesting experience.

This bit should’ve been in the Teazer rewatch, but I didn’t catch it until later. When everyone falls asleep in the Cuddle Pile, Tugger wraps his arm around a nearby leg. The lighting at this angle made it hard to see whose leg it was, so I, because I have no life, went frame by frame through this portion of the Jellicle Ball and watched the Cuddle Pile form to see where limbs were ending up. I took a bunch of screenshots of everyone’s journey from pairing off to the Cuddle Pile, because why not do that while I was there. But, I eventually figured out that The Leg is Rumpleteazer’s. She tried to cozy up to Tugger when everyone was pairing off and he appeared to turn her down, but I guess he’s humoring her a bit by cuddling with her in the Cuddle Pile.

Jerrie doesn’t acknowledge Grizabella at all, so I’ll just end on this picture of Tugger’s Boys because of my previous claims. George is hiding, but Coricopat and Jerrie definitely swapped out.

[sodapill]

days like television

words: 3.9k

relationships: denji & hayakawa aki & power, implied akiangel

ao3 link

a/n: here’s something i wrote exploring the dynamic of the hayakawa household from denji’s pov!

cw: mild emetophobia, smoking, ptsd

These days, Denji finds himself greeting every morning with a face full of cat fur.

These days, Denji finds himself greeting every morning with a face full of cat fur.

Nyako has taken a liking to sleeping in his room, and she’s got a strict routine that he’s expected to follow. Breakfast doesn’t begin at the reasonable time after Aki doles out their portions, but rather whenever Nyako demands it, usually before the sun has peaked past the horizon and always when Denji is dead asleep.

Her favorite method of waking him used to be persistent yowling, but recently she’s adopted a new strategy—settling the length of her pudgy stomach over his head and cutting off his air supply.

It’s devious but effective, and as Denji’s body kicks into fight or flight from lack of oxygen, he can’t help but think they’ve raised a spoiled brat.

Power claims that’s how all pets are, but Pochita never refused the pathetic scraps of food Denji managed to scrounge up for their sporadic meal times. Nyako is the odd one for being a normal cat with normal needs.

It’s a good thing Denji is “nothing if not adaptable,” a phrase Aki used once that he’s since latched onto. Whether Aki meant it as an insult or not is irrelevant.

Occasionally growing a chainsaw for a head has made him realize he can adapt to pretty much anything. The hardest part of it all was learning to live with other people, and Denji sort of manages that. What difference does a daily smothering make in the grand scheme of things?

He’s gotten used to pulling a purring Nyako from his face so he can trudge to the kitchen and open a can of cat food. It’s considered one of his chores anyway—and yeah, they have a chore chart now.

That was all Aki, of course. Fed up with the stacks of unwashed dishes and dirty clothes strewn across the living room floor, he’d cooked and then withheld a delicious hotpot dinner until Denji and Power both agreed to work out a schedule. They’d decided to cycle cleaning throughout the week and set Saturday as laundry day. That way there was no excuse for Power to walk around in her underwear under the guise of not having anything to wear. It was her idea that the penalty for missing a chore be losing a finger, and Aki added it to the chart like that wasn’t something he’d ever have to worry about.

Denji didn’t want to give either of his housemates the satisfaction, so he’d gotten used to doing chores.

Begrudgingly.

Make no mistake—he can get used to anything, but he doesn’t have to like it. He’s learned to tolerate doing dishes like he tolerates the acrid smell of second-hand smoke filling his lungs whenever Aki feels like having a cig indoors. Bad smells never bothered him when he’d lived in poverty, but the weight of smoke in particular is stomach-turning.

As he’s forced to crack open a window and watch Nyako slink a similar retreat onto the sill, Denji considers how all this luxury has possibly made him a bit spoiled too.

After all, not everything he grows accustomed to is outright shitty.

For all her annoying living habits, Power proves to be a low-maintenance roommate. Her moods fluctuate so wildly, if she finds anything to complain about in the first place, she’s over it by the next turn of the clock. She also takes bizarre pride in completing her chores, dragging him or Aki around the apartment to boast of what a good job she’s done.

She pouts if they don’t praise her enough—but whatever. Denji is used to it.

Her constant chatter becomes less annoying the more time they spend together, until he realizes the apartment is too quiet on the rare occasion she’s not there. The sound of her exchanging meows with Nyako reminds him he’s home, and even her cackling laugh soon registers as comforting background noise.

Similarly, Denji now recognizes the shifts in Aki’s tone well enough to know if he’s actually in trouble, versus if Aki is scolding him for the sake of propriety. Denji watches for other tells when pulling pranks with Power—an indulgent shake of the head and a tug at the corner of Aki’s lips means they’re in the clear.

It's easy to pinpoint exactly what shade of melancholy he’s drifted into just by counting the number of consecutive cigarettes he pulls from the pack. Two is contemplative—four, somber. Anything past that means they’ll have to arrange for takeout that night.

Aki is consistent, and when he starts drifting in and out of rooms like he’s lost something, his fingers trailing the walls as if navigating in the dark, Denji knows he’s actually looking for a distraction. In those moments, Denji makes an effort to act extra obnoxious, riling Power up in turn until Aki has no choice but to pay attention to them and forget whatever bad memory he’d gotten hung up on.

Gathering facts about the people he lives with isn’t a conscious choice. It’s instinctual, like how his body expects food on the regular. He’d put up with a constant state of starvation for his entire adolescence, doing odd jobs on an empty stomach like it was nothing. Now it ruins his entire day if he doesn’t get at least three meals. What’s crazier, his body punishes him when he takes advantage of the unrestricted access to food.

Aki’s cooking is good. So good in fact, that for a large span of time, Denji is constantly shifting into “eat as much as possible” mode, left over from when food was scarce. This results in several post-meal puke sessions, made all the more miserable because Denji’s body is pretty much invincible, right? He’d thought whatever devils were made out of meant they were above this shit. Ending up with his face inside a toilet bowl has forced him to rethink his previous assumptions.

It sucks waiting for his body to adjust alongside his brain, but Power and Aki do their best to make it more bearable. The first time Power kneels beside him on the cold tile, he’s sure she’s there to laugh at his misery—it wouldn't be the first time. He’s bewildered when instead, she places both palms on his back and rubs them vigorously up and down in what must be her version of a soothing caress. She doesn’t laugh or even complain, and only when his stomach is empty and he’s slumped against the wall in exhaustion does she get up and fetch Aki, who steps into the bathroom with a soldier's solemnity to deposit a mug of hot tea into Denji’s hands.

It happens enough times where Denji doesn’t bother to ask questions, filing it away as one of those things that fits into an unnamed category of half shitty, half not so shitty—like movie nights.

The three of them have vastly different tastes, Aki with his mind-numbing art house flicks and Power’s penchant for talking animal movies made for literal children. Denji doesn’t know what genre he likes most, but it’s definitely not either of those.

It’s an unspoken rule that they have to watch each one all the way through. Aki is the type to sit in complete silence because talking “ruins the integrity of the film,” whatever that means, and Denji’s running commentary annoys him to no end.

Denji and Power make bets each time on how long it’ll take him to snap or huff out a laugh.

On the rare occasion it’s Denji’s turn to choose, he splits the difference and puts on something from the best seller section at the video store. With this method, they all have to suffer through garbage, but occasionally he’ll stumble across a good movie—one he doesn’t mind staying quiet for. He watches Aki and Power rather than the television screen, their rapt attention filling him with an odd sense of pride.

Denji categorizes those nights as not so shitty.

After a while, he gets so used to the good and bad mundanities of domestic living, he can’t even imagine what a change in routine would look like.

Then they go to Hell, and instead of cat fur, Denji is more often violently jerked awake to the sound of Power’s screams.

She’s more dependent than ever before, clinging to Denji at all times like an extra limb. When the sun begins to set outside their windows, she startles at every sound, working herself into a panic while her nails dig half-moon circles into his arms that he’s sure would leave permanent scars were he fully human.

Looking after her turns out to be even more work than getting up at the crack of dawn to feed Nyako—but for some reason, Denji can’t bring himself to resent her for it.

He takes on the responsibility of comforting her with a resilience he never knew he had, going as far as holding her hand each night while she struggles to calm down enough to fall asleep.

Power isn’t the only one Denji has to keep an eye on.

At first, he doesn’t notice the way Aki will sometimes stop cold in the middle of cutting vegetables, gripping the knife handle hard enough to whiten his knuckles as a shudder of something awful passes through his body. He’s good at hiding it, and when Denji catches the tail end of one of these attacks, Aki brushes it off like it’s nothing.

It’s only after Aki suddenly sinks to the floor in the middle of a conversation, his hand clutching at the place where his missing arm wouldn’t reattach, that Denji realizes he’s overlooked something important.

Phantom limb syndrome, Aki explains, is an ongoing side effect of losing a limb wherein the brain gets mixed signals from the area of severance and translates them in the only way it knows how—as pain. He rambles off some more medical science that goes completely over Denji’s head, but from what he can gather, this affliction is severe, unavoidable, and sometimes life long. There’s no cure, but as with other chronic conditions, the goal is learning to manage it the best you can.

The thought of Aki suffering in silence makes Denji want to deck him as much as it makes him want to find a solution for his pain. He juggles these warring impulses until Aki clenches his jaw and looks away—and Denji understands that Aki won’t spend any extra energy looking after himself by choice.

So Denji and Power force him to.

They keep a hot pack in the cabinet above the microwave, and when Aki shows even the slightest sign of falling under the grip of pain, they warm it up and force him to sit with it pressed to the aching muscle. They know it’s particularly bad when Aki doesn’t bother hiding how much it hurts, and in those moments they take turns massaging his shoulder.

Aki refuses to speak with them during, so Denji and Power talk to each other, treating the situation like it’s something they’ve always done.

Denji doesn’t comment on Aki’s silence. He’s come to understand that there are some things they don't need to say aloud. When you’ve lived with a person long enough, you can share a thought with just a gesture, or pick up on ideas that you can't put into words

Power doesn't need to tell him she appreciates his company on her bad nights. Likewise, he doesn’t need to voice why he doesn’t mind taking care of her. He couldn’t even if he tried.

And when Denji questions Aki on why he’s wearing a glove indoors, Aki only has to shoot a single warning look to shut him up.

Later that night, Aki welcomes the Angel Devil into their apartment.

One arm between the two of them—Denji thinks that's pretty funny, but he doesn’t say so. Instead, he hangs back as Power slinks around their guest like she’s investigating a new play thing.

Angel endures her attention for a short time, then flicks Denji a cool look and tucks his wings in, settling on the couch without a word.

Aki hovers in the foyer, glancing between the three of them like he’s waiting for a fight to break out. It’s such a dumb look on him that Denji takes it upon himself to make the first move.

He plops down on the arm rest and asks Angel outright if he’s ever tried using the thing floating above his head as a frisbee.

Angel rolls his eyes and informs Denji that his halo is sharp enough to slice through metal.

“Sounds like a challenge,” Denji shoots back, and he’s sure Aki’s surprise mirrors his own when the corner of Angel’s mouth lifts into a smirk.

“By all means, be my guest,” he says, inclining his head in invitation.

Denji moves to take Angel up on his offer, but Aki comes back to himself and catches Denji’s hand in a tight hold. He then spends several minutes lecturing them both on how hard it is to get blood stains out of upholstery.

The rest of the night is...well, it’s still weird. But Aki so obviously wants it not to be that they all pretend for his sake. While he cooks dinner, Denji and Power keep their surprise guest company.

Angel is surprisingly talkative when prompted, though he always seems to veer their conversations into the morose. At one point, he stares glumly at Nyako snoozing on the counter and warns them to watch her closely.

“Cats don’t actually have nine lives,” he remarks, “I learned that the hard way.”

Denji doesn’t say anything when Aki lays out enough food to feed a small army, all special dishes that he’d never cook for Power or Denji even if they begged. He digs in without a word, and it’s a good thing his mouth is stuffed, otherwise he’d be gaping at the way Aki carefully feeds Angel, every so often lifting a glass of water to his lips.

They follow up dinner with ice cream—which must be Angel’s favorite as Aki spoons him two extra helpings—and then Power is tugging at Denji’s arm, urging him to come take a bath with her.

He relents under the assumption that Angel will be gone by the time they’re done washing up. But about half an hour later, Denji exits the bathroom toweling off his hair to find Angel is still there, sitting close to Aki. They’re angled towards each other, Aki’s arm thrown over the back of the couch and the fabric of his long sleeve shirt brushing the tops of Angel’s wings.

They both look up at Denji when he enters the room. Angel’s expression appears bored as usual, but Aki’s is strange, his face relaxed in an unfamiliar way.

Denji opens his mouth, then decides better.

Aki stands, helping Angel up with a steady gloved hand to his back, and it takes everything Denji has in him to stay quiet as Aki mumbles an awkward goodnight, shepherding Angel down the hall and into his room.

Denji immediately makes up an excuse to run to the convenience store so he can check the balcony outside Aki’s room from street level. Sure enough, Aki and Angel are leaning up against the railing, heads inclined as if they’re speaking in low tones.

Denji watches Aki light himself a cigarette. He offers the box to Angel, who says something that actually makes Aki laugh, the sound ringing clear even from a distance. Placing a second cigarette in Angel’s mouth, Aki holds his own steady between two fingers, bending forward to meet the smoldering end to Angel’s unlit one. A pinpoint glow of orange flares in the dark space between their faces like a morning star.

Denji turns away, stuffs his hands in his empty pockets, and decides he’ll swing by the convenience store after all.

By the time he gets back, Angel is gone.

Aki is once again sitting on the couch, staring at the blank TV screen with a stupid smile on his face, and Denji has to say something.

It turns out Aki can punch just as hard with one arm as with two.

After that, Denji pays closer attention. Without intending, he starts to notice the way Aki sometimes looks at him and Power—though he can’t focus long enough to figure out what those looks mean. They’re gentle and wistful in a way that makes Denji want to pull at Aki’s cheeks and mold a better expression.

He tries it once, but that puts Aki in a foul mood for hours so he doesn’t do it again.

Things get even more confusing on a night where they’re all sprawled out on the carpet. The movie Aki puts on is so boring it knocks Power out in minutes, her head pillowed in the crook of Denji’s arm. He starts drifting off soon after.

It happens as he’s on the verge of sleep. His mind is muddled to the world around him, but for a second, he imagines he feels Aki place an ear to his chest.

Denji is sure he dreamt it until he walks in on Aki in the same position over a napping Power, his cheek pressed to her collarbone and his brows furrowed in concentration.

Denji backs out of the room and thinks there’s something he’s missing here.

The next time Aki is in the kitchen, Denji tests a theory, loudly announcing that he’s going to take a nap before stretching out on the couch. He feigns sleep long enough to rethink his entire strategy—when he finally hears Aki pause his task and tread softly across the room.

Denji struggles to keep a straight face as Aki kneels beside the couch and lowers an ear to his chest, keeping it there much too long for someone trying not to get caught. Eventually, he heaves a great sigh and pulls away, returning to the kitchen like he’d never left.

So, yeah. There’s the whole listening to their heartbeats thing.

Another quirk to add onto the list of Aki behavior that Denji doesn’t understand but has to accept.

Aki is still Aki. He still shouts at them when they break things, still cooks their meals and tolerates their company—though, maybe tolerates isn’t the right word anymore.

Denji is flipping through the pages of a porno mag when one of the ads catches his eye. A smiling woman in a bikini holds up a machine with a handle on top and an open space in the middle. He thinks it might be some crazy sex thing, but he has Power read the description, and she tells him it’s for making a dessert called “shaved ice.”

Neither of them know what that is, but the ad makes it sound like the best thing ever—

“—and it can be ours for the low price of two-thousand yen!” Power shouts, smacking the magazine against his arm.

Denji tears out the ad and goes to pester Aki into buying it for them.

Aki bitches and moans about wasting money on useless shit, but after getting it out of his system, he puts down the laundry he was folding and snatches the page from Denji’s hand, dialing the number with a sour expression. He’s curt over the phone, reading off his credit card details like someone has a gun to his head. Denji wishes he could see the face of the unlucky salesperson on the other line.

“Denji.” Aki says, and Denji tilts his head before realizing he’s not being spoken to. Aki pauses, and then directs a puzzled frown his way. “Last name?”

Denji shrugs.

Aki blinks at him, the furrow between his brow smoothing as if in stunned realization. After a bizarre stretch of silence, he readjusts his hold on the handset and glances away, mumbling out, “Hayakawa. Hayakawa Denji.”

When he eventually hangs up, his gaze stays trained on the far wall like he’s lost in thought. Denji decides not to test his luck by sticking around, but Aki catches his wrist as he goes to leave.

“What?” Denji grumbles. “I said thank you, didn’t I?”

“You didn’t, actually,” Aki replies dryly, but there’s no real reproval in his tone. “That’s not—just hold on a minute.”

His faltering words give Denji pause. He shakes off Aki’s hand but stays put.

“Listen,” Aki begins, messing with the pile of clothes he’d left aside. He unfolds a shirt, holds it out, and then folds it again, all the while not meeting Denji’s eye. “If you or Power ever needed— If for some reason I wasn’t here...and you needed something for documents…”

“Why wouldn’t you be here?” Denji asks, and thinks of their work. “If you’re traveling we can call you.”

Aki turns to him then, something unreadable in his thousand-yard stare.

It’s like facing a door labeled, “do not open.”

Aki sighs and looks away. “Forget it.”

And Denji does forget—until a fews days later when a package arrives at their doorstep postmarked to one Hayakawa Denji.

Placing the box on the living room table, he studies the characters of his given name, covering and uncovering them with his palm. He’d never noticed how incomplete they looked without a surname to go before. The sight turns rusty gears in his head, almost like he’s on the verge of understanding an important truth.

Power bowls him over in her excitement before he comes to a conclusion.

They leave the setup to Aki, who confiscates the shaved ice maker and reads the instructions with the two of them hovering over his shoulder. It turns out to be very simple, just a matter of filling the upper compartment with ice and turning the lever. The machine wobbles below Aki’s hand, so Denji holds it steady, watching with fascination as snow-like flakes collect in the bowl underneath. The novelty wears off a little when he dips a finger in to taste and finds it flavorless like regular ice, but Aki bats his hand away and pulls out a bottle of blue liquid.

“Flavor syrup,” he says, scanning the label. “Hawaiian Blast—what’s that supposed to be?”

Whatever it is, it tastes delicious drizzled over the ice flakes, sweet and refreshing like no dessert Denji has ever had.

Power gobbles up the first serving faster than Aki can make more, and he’s unsympathetic to the excruciating brain freeze that earns her.

She flicks the lever and turns to Denji with a conspiratorial grin. “Think it would work with blood?”

“Great idea,” Aki says, chin in hand. “Why not make this perfectly innocent activity fucked up and evil?”

Power sticks her vibrant blue tongue out at him.

Denji hates getting cut open on principle, so he appeases her by mashing up strawberries with condensed milk into a gory looking topping they can all enjoy. Even Nyako gets to lick a drop off his finger.

Aki takes his first bite and gazes into his bowl like it’s a window into a far off time and place. “I haven’t had this since I was a kid.”

“Old man,” Denji snickers.

Power echoes him at double the volume, falling back and kicking her legs in the air. The motion disturbs Nyako, who clambers off her lap and settles at Aki’s feet

“Oh, shut it,” Aki says, but the hint of a smile softens his tone into fondness. He scratches at Nyako’s ear. “At least you’re on my side.”

Shaken by her cat’s betrayal, Power stammers out, “‘Tis only pity! Nyako feels nothing but pity for humans, just like her master!”

“Is that so?” Aki raises a brow and—to Power’s great dismay—makes a show of lifting Nyako into his lap. “Lucky us then.”

“Yeah,” Denji says, a brilliant grin working its way onto his face. “Lucky us.”