#my notes got angsty when all i wanted was to make a joke whoops

[antiphrastic]

I made something important

[13uswntimagines]

Emergency Contact (Emily Sonnett x Reader)

Request: sonnett x reader and sonnett is playing in the final for the Swedish league and the reader is at camp watching with the rest of the uswnt and like sonnett scores or something but gets hurt. 

Author’s Note: So this turned out super... Angsty. Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog​ cause this was her idea. I hope you enjoy this. 

You glared at the television, your hands clasped in front of you as you watched the action on screen. This was an important game. No, you weren’t really into Swedish soccer, but you were very much into one Emily Sonnett, and this was important to her. Therefore this game was important to you. 

Medics weren’t always invited to the team’s watch parties, but they had made an exception for you. After all, you were Sonnett’s girlfriend, and basically an honorary member of the team. 

At some point, someone had joked that you were practically Sonnett’s replacement while she was away since the two of you shared a similar sense of humor. The person who had suggested it (Lindsey) had been forced into a week of ice baths as a punishment. Officially it was a recommendation to help with the inflammation in her hip. A physical therapist signed off on it and everything. But they all knew better than to make that joke again. 

“I’m honestly surprised you're drinking lemonade and not Budweiser,” Kelley laughed, nudging you with her shoulder. 

“Why it’s a Wednesday and we all have to be up at an ungodly hour for practice,” You asked, blinking at the woman, while still trying to keep half an eye on the screen. 

“Cause junior would be pounding beers back to celebrate you winning the Medical Olympics or whatever it is you M.D’s do for fun,” Lindsey snorted. You pouted, Doctors knew how to have fun too, it just usually came in the form of trivia nights instead of wild parties. 

“Some save water by drinking beer. I save water by not literally pouring it on my head when I get hot in practice,” you held up your glass of lemonade in a mock cheers, and turn back to see Emily’s team setting up for a corner kick, and a brunet marking Emily way closer than they normally would. 

“Anyway, while you three are trying to save the planet with your beverage choices, has anyone seen the new picture of Charlie?’ Rose asked, holding up her phone. Kelley grumbled something about not being the favorite aunt as Everyone crowded in close to Rose to see, cooing at the picture of the baby chewing on the horn of a stuffed dinosaur. 

It was only the cheering on screen that brought everyone’s attention back to the game. A proud smile broke across your face as Emily’s name and number flashed across the screen. Around you, the whole team was cheering Kelley and Lindsey jumped to their feet, whooping and cheering, throwing popcorn as they called encouragement to your girl.

But then you noticed something was very wrong. The whole room seemed to be moving in slow motion as you watched.  Instead of doing her signature post-goal celebration, Emily was lying flat on her back with her new team huddling around her. 

It was like time froze as she stood up, the sight of a very large amount of blood pouring from a cut on her forehead. She reached up to touch it, seemingly realizing just as you were, that she wasn’t alright. She blinked at the substance, before stumbling backward. Thankfully Koivista caught her before she could face plant into the ground. 

For a second you thought the team was still cheering, hadn’t yet seen that Sonnett was hurt. Then you realized what you were hearing was ringing in your ears, a ringing that seemed so quiet and so loud at the same time, like a giant empty canvas of sound. The only other discernible thing you could feel was the blood pounding through your frantically beating heart, as though it was beating for both you and the woman on the screen. 

You were a medic, so even now somewhere in the back of your head, you registered that you were showing signs of shock. You reasoned that it wasn’t the blood that threw you, but that it was your blond defender covered in it. So you sat down, somehow finding your way to the couch without taking your eyes off the screen. Off the love of your life. 

Had you told her that recently? The two of you talked all the time, yet you couldn’t remember if you ended the conversation with those words the last time you had called. Had you said goodbye, instead of see you later? Or I’m running late, talk to you soon? 

The thought of your last words to her not being I love you petrified you. You knew that she knew, but you didn’t just want her to know. You wanted her to feel it in every interaction you had. You couldn’t bear the thought of her dying and you not telling you how much you loved her first. 

Not that was going to die. She was going to be fine. She had to be fine. 

“I’ve got Emma on the phone Y/n, here” Something was shoved into your hands, as you watched the post-commercial replay of Emily being helped off-field. 

You cleared your throat, “hello.”

You were sure that your girlfriend’s twin said several things very quickly, but the only thing you could register was the first two words. “She’s okay”. 

You felt the knot in your chest loosen just slightly, and you blinked. Your fists (which at some point had begun to dig into your thighs) unclenched, and you felt like you could breathe again. 

“She’s ok?” You asked, your voice shaking. It was only then you realized tears were running down your cheeks. 

“Yeah, she’s alright. Took a nasty clear to the head after the collision, but Em’s tough,” Emma reassured. 

The rest of the conversation with Emma was put on speakerphone so the other USWNT girls could hear and tell you what had happened later. You couldn’t register anything else. Your mind was buzzing with choruses of “she’s okay” and thoughts of the future. 

“Wait. Why did they call you?” Kelley asked Emma

It was strange considering Emma was like 5 time zones separated from her sister. 

“I’m her emergency contact,” Emma’s voice was muffled. 

Did they have ring shops in the Netherlands? Were you even allowed to go there considering you were in a USWNT bubble until well after Thanksgiving? 

You would figure it out after you had a chance to talk to Emily. But one thing was for sure, you wanted to be the first call next time. If she got hurt again, you wanted to be her emergency contact. 

[outrebanx]

Dragonfly - Chapter 4

JJ Maybank x female!reader series

Summary: Y/N is invited to her first kegger, where she has lots of fun but there’s a fight which turns her night upside down (a shit summary i’m sorry)

Word Count: 3.5k 

Warnings: swearing, fighting - hasn’t been proofread so most likely bad grammar

A/N: I enjoyed writing a lot of this chapter, and I canny look forward to the next one which is going to be very angsty hopefully

Chapters 1 - 2 - 3 -

You had fallen into a routine these last few days, getting up, going to work and then coming back home to have a meal with your dad before going surfing at night. Not that you minded too much, routines had always helped you cope with stuff, originally when your mum died all you wanted to do was carry on your days as if nothing had happened but your dad always thought this wasn’t coping - more just ignoring the issue.

This routine wasn’t like that, it was just the routine of a new life, which you were beginning to enjoy, in the Outer Banks. You had seen Kie most days at work, chatting whenever there were less people to serve in the restaurant, but you hadn’t seen the boys since the boat trip - even though they pretty much told you you were now part of their group, you couldn’t help but think they were avoiding you, especially as Kiara had said they normally come into the Wreck when they’re hungry, which they are most of the time. Any time these thoughts came into your head you quickly pushed them out, you had enjoyed being with them and you really didn’t want to try and push them away or make assumptions before there was any evidence - something you had done lots growing up, always thinking you were hated when you weren’t, and ruining friendships because of this. A new life meant you had to stop making old mistakes, especially ones like those.

The Wreck was emptier today than you’d seen it since you began working there, only a few groups of people had come into the restaurant for food, most people probably staying in the sun for as long as possible as the weather was amazing today, not a cloud in sight, just the hot sun. Not that you could really enjoy it when you were working, but your shift finished soon so you’d be able to do something then.

You were cleaning up a table of a couple that had just left when you heard your name being called out from the door.

“Y/N!” John B shouted, Kie behind him trying to tell him to shut up.

You waved at him, and began to head to a table, Kie, JJ and Pope all following closely behind him.

“Hey, how are you guys?” You asked

There was a chorus of “great’s” before Kie got up, saying she was going to search for some food as the guys were hungry

“What are you doing tonight?” JJ asked once Kie had left.

“Surfing probably, why?”

“We’re having a kegger at the beach later and we want you to come.” John B answered

“Yeah it’ll be your first time drinking properly with us and probably the first time since you moved here as well - so you basically can’t refuse.” JJ smiled at you, waiting for your answer.

“Okay, yeah I’d love to.”

All three boys whooped at this, and as Kiara came back to the table, she asked, “I’m guessing you’re coming then?”

“I am indeed, been a while since I’ve gone to a party though, I feel like I could be out of practice.” You laughed

“Bullshit, we all saw you drink on the boat the other day and I’m sure you’ll somehow show us all up again tonight.” Pope responded, the others just nodding their agreement.

“Good point - when abouts should I get there?”

“We usually set up around 9 so probably then, this means there’s some time before everyone else gets there just us.” John B said, oblivious to Kie muttering under her breath, “Yeah and then you guys will get into a fight like always.”

This comment set you on edge a little, you had never been a huge fan of violence, if need be you could protect yourself but it was seeing people you care about being hurt which upset you, and the way Kie made it sound, that could be a possibility.

“Okay I have to finish clearing up then I need to go home, so I’ll see you guys later.” You said, smiling at them as they all said bye.

—————

You looked around your room, there were clothes everywhere from you changing your mind on outfits to wear tonight about 100 times, you didn’t know whether to keep it casual like during the day or put a little more effort in, both options needing you to decide on how much cleavage you wanted to show. Getting ready was always so stressful.

You collapsed onto your bed in defeat, still not sure what to wear before you heard your phone ringing, looking at it you saw Kiara’s name on the screen so you quickly answered it.

“Hey”

“Hi,” her voice came from the phone, “you alright?”

“Great other than the fact I don’t know what to wear, please help me.”

She laughed, “I felt like this could be something you’d have an issue with - my advice is shorts and a nice top, it’s my go to every time and it never fails.”

“Okay that’s narrowed it down slightly and I think I have an idea now, so you’re officially a life saver Kie.”

“I know,” she joked, “shit - my mum’s calling me so I’ll see you in a bit.”

“Okay bye” you said, ending the call as you stood up, ready to go through your clothes again, now knowing what you were looking for.

It didn’t take you long to find the outfit you were gonna wear, an off the shoulder black crop top and some black denim shorts - the whole outfit making your figure look great, filling you with confidence. You quickly put on some mascara and eyeshadow, then made your way downstairs to say goodbye to your dad for the night, only to find out he’d already crashed out on the couch.

Instead of waking him up, you just decided to leave him a note saying you’d be back later, grabbing some vodka from the kitchen you started making your way down to the beach to meet up with your friends.

They were sat round a fire when you arrived, JJ smoking a joint and the other three all focused on the conversation they were having. They didn’t notice you until you sat down next to JJ, quickly stealing the blunt from his hand and taking a hit before giving it back to him, a shocked and offended look on his face as he muttered, “the audacity.”

“You love me really,” you say nudging him, a smirk on your face that you knew annoyed him, he just shoved you off the log you were both sitting on, “you’re wrong there Y/N.”

You pouted at him as you climbed back onto the log, turning to look at the others, who had witnessed that interaction, Kie now having a smug look on her face, knowing she’d been right about there kind of being something between you guys.

You decided to ignore this, and instead began talking to Pope about what he wanted to do at college. Forensic pathology was the thing he was passionate about, you wish you had the same idea of where you wanted your life to go, but you still didn’t know, and at this point you just wanted to enjoy life for a little while so that’s what you were going to do.

The easy conversations lasted a little bit longer, then as more people began arriving at the beach, John B and Pope went off to man the keg and JJ had gone off to, in his words, “find his fun for the night.” You and Kiara had both made a disgusted noise at this, before deciding you’d rather drink some vodka and then go and dance together. So that what you did.

You didn’t know how much you’d had to drink by the time Kie had dragged you into where other people were dancing, shouting how she loved the songs that were playing tonight, but you were starting to feel the alcohol going to your head. This, of course, only made you enjoy all this more, being so relaxed and happy with others was not something you felt often, and you were going to love every second of it.

You turned to Kie, “Hey, I’m going to go and get some beer, do you want anything?”

She shook her head, then turned back to the group of touron girls who had joined your dancing as you began heading over to where John B and Pope were.

They spotted you and waved as you made your way closer, already holding a cup out to you, you sped up for the last little distance to reach them, taking the cup and saying your thanks.

“How’s your first kegger going then?” John B asked.

“I’m really loving it, I’ve had lots of drink obviously but the whole atmosphere is great, like there only seem to be good vibes, not sure what Kie meant by there being lots of fights usually if it’s like this.”

“Well I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, but I hate to break it to you, there’s still a good chance of there being a fight, the kooks almost always start something, or at least act like dicks, which then starts the fight.” Pope said, patting you on the shoulder as he ‘broke the news’ to you.

“Oh great,” you sighed, “but at least I can handle myself and if you guys need it, I can always help you.”

John B laughed, “You in a fight would be something I’d pay to see to be honest, but please be careful and try not to get into a fight, I mean you’ve only known us a week, that’d be like the biggest sign that we’re bad influences and we don’t need that.”

You smiled at him, “I’ll try my best.”

“Good, that means there’s only JJ to worry about now.”

“Does he get into a lot of fights then?”

“All. the. time,” Pope said, taking a sip from his cup before continuing, “but in fairness, it’s usually to stick up for once of us which makes it slightly better, even if he’s still a pain in the ass.”

You chuckled, “I’ll keep a look out as well then, stop him before he does something stupid.”

It was silent for a few seconds, you all drinking and lost in thoughts, and just as you were going to return to Kie, John B said, “Hey, Y/N, I’m glad you’re in our group now, you make it better.”

You couldn’t contain your joy when he said this, so with a very wide smile you pulled both him and Pope into a tight hug, saying, “Thank you, it’s because I’m amazing.”

They both were still laughing as you made your way back over to where you last saw Kie, but when you got there, she had since disappeared. You sighed, wondering where she’d gone and when you turned back round, you were blocked by a muscular guy, who when you saw his face, you knew was Rafe from the restaurant the other day.

“Where you going pogue?” He sneered

“What’s it to you?”

“Just wondering, anyway I came over to tell you that you look good, and I could put aside the rivalry for tonight if you wanted to have some fun.”

You scoffed, “only if by fun you mean me hitting you with a golf club, but if not I don’t have much interest.”

He moved forward, grabbing you forearm in a tight grip, “You can’t talk to me like that you little bitch, you have no idea what I’m capable of.”

“Take your hand off me.” You say, ignoring his threat.

“You heard her man, get off her.” You turned around, seeing JJ now behind you, already looking like he was prepared to fight, he looked at you in question to see if you were alright, you just nodded before looking back to Rafe.

In response, Rafe’s grip just tightened, you winced slightly, knowing this would be leaving a bruise on your arm.

Without thinking, you lifted your other hand up, and punched him straight in the face. In shock he let go of you, stumbling back holding his nose and swearing.

He looked up to you, blood running from his nose, “you’re gonna pay for that you bitch.”

As Rafe moved forward, JJ pushed you behind him, ready to take the brunt of Rafe’s anger. Before you could even try and argue for JJ to not get involved, both him and Rafe were on the ground, JJ currently on top of Rafe and punching him in the face repeatedly.

This commotion attracted the attention of everyone else on the beach, you saw John B, Pope and Kie all running over trying to see what was going on and how they could help.

Just as you shouted for JJ to stop, obvious Rafe had had enough of a beating, Rafe’s other goons appeared out of nowhere, pulling JJ off Rafe and whilst one held him in a headlock, the other kicked him in the stomach, causing JJ to bend over in pain.

“NO! GET OFF OF HIM.” You shouted, Kie had a hold on your arms so you couldn’t move forward and get involved.

Pope and John B had now moved in on the fight, John B getting in front of the one who was kicking JJ, pushing him away, and Pope punched the other one, making him release the hold he had on JJ.

They retreated, hands in the air in defence, knowing they were outnumbered, and they had seen that Rafe was still on the floor, maybe even unconscious, you thought, a little happy at that outcome. All of that happiness vanished when you saw JJ, keeled over in the sand, grabbing his side in pain.

Both you and Kie quickly ran over to him, you knelt in front of him, his head moving to look at you, “Holy shit JJ are you alright?”

“I’ve had worse.” You scrunched your eyebrows, slightly confused how this wasn’t a big deal to him, or how anything could be worse, I mean he was covered in blood and was clearly going to have lots of bruises- but before you could say anything he looked up at you again, “how’s your hand?”

“Throbbing slightly but literally nothing to worry about, especially when you look like this.”

John B and Pope lifted JJ up by his arms, “Let’s get you cleaned up man.”

Kie reached her hand out to you, helping you up so you could follow the boys, who were now trying to convince JJ to let them help.

You couldn’t help but slow down, it was your fault he had been hurt like that, you should’ve kept your anger in check, then maybe Rafe would’ve gone away without any issues. Kie nudged your shoulder, “I know what you’re thinking, and this isn’t your fault - Rafe could’ve done something bad to you so its good you stuck up for yourself and JJ was there to help you out.”

When you didn’t answer, she grabbed your hand and squeezed it, “Trust me, this isn’t your fault.”

You nodded, not saying anything as you removed your hand from hers and tried to catch up with the boys who were now arguing who’s house was closer to clean him up.

“I can take him to mine,” they turned to look at you, a bit shocked at your offer, but understood why you wanted to help him when they saw the guilt on your face.

“Are you sure?” Pope asked

“Yes, I might as well clean him up as it was my fault he got into the fight, and I need to ice my hand anyway, so you guys can stay here for a bit longer if you want.”

“Okay, can you carry him on your own?” John B said, interrupting Kie who was ready to say it wasn’t your fault again.

“I can walk on my own man,” JJ muttered at John B as you went to put your arm around his waist, allowing him to put his over your shoulder, and supporting his weight.

“Okay then, we’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry I ruined the night,” you said, looking down at the floor in shame.

JJ squeezed your shoulder as the other three moved towards you and engulfed both you and JJ into a hug, Kie reassuring you that you hadn’t ruined anything, except maybe Rafe’s nose - this earned a laugh from everyone, you included, and when you stepped back, there was a small smile on your face again.

The walk back to yours was slow going, JJ struggling to stay upright and you having to support more of his weight, there was a silence between you, neither of you really knowing what to say to one another, but you used the time to try and sort out the thoughts rushing through your head.

Once back at yours, you unlocked the door, checking the sofa, which your dad had now left, obviously to go and sleep in his bed where it’s more comfy, and leading JJ to the bathroom nearest your room.

You patted the counter, indicating for him to sit on it, which he did whilst letting out a small grunt of pain. Quickly searching through the cabinet, you found some bandages and some saline solution, which you put on the counter before running to the kitchen to get some ice for his hand.

He had zoned out in thought by the time you got back, only coming back to the present when you were standing in front of him, tapping his shoulder.

“Is it alright if I step in between your legs? it's easier to reach the cuts.” You asked

“You can stand between my legs whenever you want Y/N,” he joked, as he opened them for you to step between, you still weren’t sure how he can keep acting like his normal self when he was obviously in a lot of pain.

You stopped thinking and just started cleaning out all of his wounds with the saline solution, feeling awful whenever he winced underneath your touch, but this needed to be done to lessen the pain tomorrow and to make sure no cuts git infected. You had fallen into a concentrated silence, making sure you were hurting him as little as possible, not even noticing how intensely he was looking at you, entranced with how your eyebrows scrunched together in concentration and how you bit your lip, wincing whenever he did.

You were almost done when he spoke up, “thank you for doing this by the way.”

You looked up at him, making eye contact with his intense blue eyes, “I don’t like seeing you hurt, especially when you got into that fight because of me.”

Looking back down at the area on his stomach you were trying to clean, you noticed that there were a lot more bruises and marks than just from tonight, you were going to say something but if it was something he wanted to talk about he’d tell you when he was ready, so you just stepped away from him, washing your hands in the sink.

Only now you were washing your hands did you realise how red the one you had punched Rafe with had become, and that there was now already a bruise from where he grabbed you. JJ had noticed you pause, and looked to where your eyes were focused - he couldn’t stop way his stomach lurched at the idea you were in pain, he was used to it and even though he hadn’t known you for long, he didn’t want you ever to be in pain again.

He grabbed your hands, the water from the tap flowing over both your hands, “That fight wasn’t your fault, it was Rafe’s, and I’m sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

You turned to look at him, a tear escaping you eye, which he quickly wiped away with his thumb, “well if it’s not my fault, then you’re not allowed to be sorry either, deal?”

He let out a small laugh, “Okay that works for me,” he went to open the bathroom door, “anyway I should probably get going, don’t want your dad seeing me.”

You grabbed his arm before he could move any further, “Nope.”

“What?”

“I don’t want you walking on your own when you’re in this state, so you’re going to stay here, you can share my bed with me, obviously without any funny business though.”

His mouth had gaped into an ‘O’ in shock, “Are you sure?”

“100%, and then we can make our way together to see the others tomorrow.”

“Oh, okay then.” You led him to your bedroom, throwing him a pair of your dad’s old joggers for him to get dressed into, turning away from him as you changed into a large shirt and shorts, before getting into bed next to where he had already settled.

You could feel his eyes on you, so you moved onto your side so you were facing him, before smiling at him, “Night JJ.”

He smiled back, “Night Y/N” and you both drifted off into sleep.

Taglist: @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @tangledinsparkles​ @k-k0129​ @jjsbxtch​ @outerbankslove​ @obx-beach​ @emerald-xcd​ @danicarosaline​ @belledutchess​ @teamnick​ @justcallmesams​

[marinetteplztakeabreak]

Desperada rewatch summary because I need to lighten up

I’ve watched Desperada way too many times and I’ve probably written like 30 pages of angsty analysis so I’m balancing it out by writing a summary of non-angsty things about the episode that are being criminally forgotten

The flirtiest thing Luka does in the beginning is playing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on his electric guitar in Marinette’s general direction while smiling at her

Adrien is carrying both his and Kagami’s fencing supplies when they walk into the boat. It is implied that they either made it all the way to fencing practice before meeting up and driving away, in which case the “oh no this is the wrong address” is hillarious, like “we were two feet away but oops oh nOoOoo, I accidentally took a wrong turn and headed back into the car, and then told my driver to come completely out of his way, whoops” or they are regularly carpooling to fencing practice which means they get to actually hang out more, I don’t know which I like more

Kagami asks Marinette if she’s there to watch her boyfriend rehearse, as Marinette and Luka are hugging and joking together. Marinette blushes and does not say no. Adrien, who is awkward and missed a lot of his friends interactions, has no reason to beleive that Luka and Marinette are not currently dating

Kagami is super awkward and physically used Adrien as a shield between her and the other girls, until the second Desperada shows up, at which point she instantly leaps in front of him to protect him.

I’m 90% sure that the first thing Marinette does when she sees Kagami and Adrien appear is rush to get them some orange juice, this is probably where Kagami got the orange juice idea

Marinette apperently plays the flute? This is never mentioned again

The SECOND that an argument starts up outside, every single person in the boat drops what they’re doing and RUNS outside to see what’s about to go down. No one thinks this is odd

the reason that Vivica got into drama with Jagged Stone is because she ate Jagged Stone’s cereal “and drank Fang’s milk.” He is still upset about this at the end of the episode

Jagged is not at all worried for his safety, his only concern is that Desperada “is giving rock and roll a bad name” in her murderous rampage. He also follows after her and tries to stop her, genuinly thinking that this argument will work

“I may not play the guitar but I do play the yoyo!” = actual Ladybug line in the English dub. I’m still uncertain as to what this means but she sounded really smug when she said it

Ladybug pulls Adrien and Luka into the sewers to hide and starts talking very quietly so Desperada doesn’t find them. Luka immeditatly starts to loudly play the guitar for no reason. This is never addressed and Ladybug says nothing about it. Desperada is actively searching for guitar players so she can attack them. This is not a good way to avoid capture.

before the timeloops start, Ladybug just takes down an entire bridge causing Desperada to fall several meters and be covered in heavy cement rubble. She is only mildly inconvenienced by this, and it barely distracts her. However, Luka playing a few notes on the harp at the end of the episode makes her completely unable to focus, because she’s so upset at Luka for playing music in the middle of a battle. Desperada represents my deepest inner emotions

Adrien knows his way around the sewers and immediatly finds a locker room to hide in. Luka does not question this

Adrien, being smart, closes another locker door to make Luka think he’s hiding in there. Also Adrien, being an idiot, is whispering to Luka for this entire scene so Desperada doesn’t find them, as he’s stomping around and slamming doors. No one sees an issue with this

Desperada destroys a flock of pigeons because they’re bad at playing guitar. I am not making this up

Marinette falls off the sewer ladder and almost drops the snake Miraculous into the sewer. The episode would have been very different if she had

Chat Noir, being a genius, takes away Ladybug’s suspicion by pretending to have magical smell that leads him directly to Adrien. He reaches exactly the locker where Adrien should be, then says “oh no he’s not here, lets team up with Luka and split up” and as soon as Ladybug’s out of the room, he shoves Luka back into a locker before he can join the search effort. Points for making an attempt to strategize I guess? I don’t know what he thought he would accomplish tho

If you follow the time frame, Luka stays in the locker for maybe 90 seconds before running out to look for them. What was he doing? He clearly had no intention of following Chat Noir’s order to stay put, which leads me to conclude he spent the entire two minutes just flustered because Chat Noir shoved him in a locker and winked at him

Luka walks in on Adrien and Ladybug talking and asks “did I miss something?” Ladybug laughs as if this is a joke. Luka never gets an explanation. I feel almost bad for him

Viperion’s solution to the problem is to start playing music in the middle of the battle. This works.

Desperada falls off the Eiffel Tower and it’s not enough to break her focus or make her angry at Chat Noir for cataclysming the ground she’s standing on. However, Luka plays maybe 4 notes on his lyre and she shoots off towards him in a blind murderous rage.

I think the literal reason that Adrien kept failing was because he never would’ve just started playing guitar in the middle of a battle like Luka was already doing.

If they spent any timeloops together in the sewer for the whole 5 minutes, Luka would’ve shown up before the time even ran out, and probably would’ve immeditaly started playing the guitar given his characterization in this episode

Jagged Stone is still upset about the cereal thing but he does his best to apologize anyway

When Kagami asks “I was wrong about you and Luka, wasn’t I?” she’s literally saying she was wrong about thinking he was her boyfriend because that’s what she thought at the beginning of the episode.

When Kagami kinda tried to pressure Marinette into love triangle mentality, Alya literally just bursts into the conversation and tells Kagami to knock it off in the nicest way possible

Jagged Stone cradles his crocodile in his arms at the end of the episode, not in a “I was worried about you, Fang” way, but in a “yep, this is a normal way to interact with a crocodile” way. Neither Vivica not Anarka bring it up

Jagged Stone is definitely related to Luka based on everything about his characterization in this, he doesn’t even stop playing the piano when Desperada shows up, his main priority is music, he speaks in musical metaphors, and his priorities make no sense. I’m trying to decide if this makes Fang Luka’s brother.

Anarka’s whole issue was that she doesn’t want to be Jagged’s “second choice.” This is clearly a pun. Luka, on the other hand, doesn’t have any capacity to care about anything that isn’t his guitar, so he doesn’t have this kind of rage

The freakinf cereal thing, you guys, Vivica got fired over eating Fang’s cereal, and Jagged only feels the slightest regret at firing her for this. He also may or may not have thrown her into a literal lake when he did this, the dialogue makes it unclear where the metaphors end

Jagged Stone’s music seems to have had both a piano part and a guitar part, so if anyone had been thinking at all, then Adrien could’ve come in as his pianist and Jagged could’ve taken pn the guitar

“You can come back but get your own breakfast, ok?”

[fieryanmitsu]

If Only | A3! (one-sided Itaru/Izumi, Sakyo/Izumi)

This story plot suddenly just cannonballed into my head while I was listening to Shintarou Asanuma’s cover of “So Close” from Disney’s Enchanted. For those of you who don’t know, he is Itaru’s Japanese voice actor! I really do love AsaShin’s singing voice, and he seriously just knocks it out of the ballpark with this song. I’m just heartbroken forever now, and the lyrics made me cry, so here I am with an angsty story that no one asked for, hahaha!

Because of the way I envisioned this story, it felt most right if I wrote it in present tense. However, this style of writing is definitely something out of my comfort zone and I can’t remember the last time I tried writing in the present tense. So, I’ll apologize in advance if I make your eyes bleed with my terrible grammar and any unintentional switching to the past tense (especially since I don’t write with a beta)!!

IF ONLY

CHARACTERS: Itaru Chigasaki, Izumi Tachibana, Sakyo Furuichi

PAIRINGS: unrequited Itaru/Izumi, Sakyo/Izumi

My fanfic masterpost: Here

AO3: Link in my Blog Menu

Itaru finds himself in an unfamiliar situation: on the sidelines of a blaring dance floor. He has attended many weddings in his lifetime – he was at that age, after all, as his parents often remind him – but, he can count on one hand how many wedding after-parties he has bothered to join. Actually, he didn’t even need one whole hand. One experience was enough for him to have his fill of plastering on a fake face and dealing with obnoxious drunk people – especially drunk women trying to get into his bed. Not to mention, he would lose out on his precious free time.

However, there was no way he could get out of this particular after-party. After all, it is the Mankai Company-exclusive after-party for Izumi and Sakyo’s wedding. Or was it the after-after-party? Did the impromptu karaoke session thrown together by Banri and Tenma count as an after-party? Regardless, much to Itaru’s misery, skipping out on the current celebrations is not an option – according to Tsuzuru, anyway.

Nibbling half-heartedly on one of the finger sandwiches that Omi had prepared, Itaru lounges casually at one of the cocktail tables. A beautiful bouquet of flowers sits upon the pristine tablecloth – lovingly hand made by Tsumugi, of course – but his eyes spare them no glance. Instead, his gaze is glued on Izumi’s slender figure as she sways her hips on the dance floor, surrounded by a gaggle of the younger Mankai Company members. They cheer her on as she clutches the skirt of her floor-length white dress, whirling around with abandon. Her smile flashes brighter than the tacky disco ball suspended from the ceiling, and Itaru is unable to look away.

Suddenly, the dance music fades out and the mood in the ballroom completely changes as the DJ – Sakoda, because his services are free – starts playing a mellower tune.

Picking up his glass, Itaru throws back the rest of his drink, feeling the alcohol burn a hot trail down his throat. There was no way he was going to get through this evening sober. He clunks down the empty glass and vaguely registers Sakoda loudly announcing that it was about time that the boss gets his butt on the dance floor already.

The young salaryman absentmindedly shoves another sandwich into his mouth as he watches Sakyo being pulled from his seat at a nearby table and shoved into the centre of the rented hall by Taichi and Misumi. The bespectacled man stumbles as he nearly trips on one of the table legs, and Izumi catches him in her arms as the two young men laugh rather than help.

After Sakyo regains his footing, the newlywed couple wrap their arms around each other to the cheers of the audience and they begin swaying to the tune of a slow, romantic song. The usual hard expression on Sakyo’s face softens as he looks down lovingly at his bride, and the smile that Izumi returns is blinding.

Itaru tears his eyes away. He doesn’t know why he still feels bothered. Did he not literally witness those lovey-dovey faces all day as they had been exchanging vows, giving their speeches at the reception, and cutting the wedding cake? Maybe the alcohol was exacerbating it, but the remaining sandwich in his mouth suddenly tastes like sand and he feels sick to his stomach. He wants to run away, wants to get away from the awful feelings wrapping their fingers around his chest and squeezing his heart painfully.

But, as usual, he doesn’t do anything. Just like the countless other instances in the past years. How many times had the voice in his head shut him down when he wanted to reach out to her, only to freeze and pull away?

‘Why bother – you’re not good enough, anyway,’ the voice lamented.

‘You’re just useless gamer trash – you’ll never be able to give her what she deserves,’ the voice sneered.

‘Why compete with him – he’s better than you in every way,’ the voice demanded.

He has long lost count.

Itaru is drawn out of his thoughts by loud whooping and wolf whistles. Turning his head to the source of the attention, he sees Azuma confidently step onto the dance floor while flicking his ponytail over his shoulder. Moments later, the long-haired man gracefully steals Izumi away from her groom with a wink. Even though the lighting in the room is dim, Itaru can just make out Sakyo rolling his eyes as he steps aside, but not without a good-natured smirk on his lips.

Izumi giggles with delight as Azuma leads her across the dance floor. Before long, the professional cuddler’s actions start a chain reaction. Kazunari swoops in shortly after with a cheeky grin to enjoy his turn with Izumi before he twirls her away to – a very drunk, Itaru notes – Tasuku. The director is nearly crushed by his burly body when he fails to keep his feet under him, but Citron rescues her and begins spinning her around the dance floor. Izumi’s laughter rings in Itaru’s ears as she continues to waltz through a succession of more Mankai Company men.

And, then, suddenly, Izumi is standing in front of him, and her hand is on his wrist.

“Dance with me, Itaru,” she requests – no, commands – and tugs lightly on his arm with a big, innocent smile and flushed cheeks.

In any other situation, his rejection would be instantaneous. He doesn’t dance – can’t dance. Izumi knows this, too, considering the countless number of times he has trampled on her toes during practices.He knows he should turn her down, because nothing good can come of this.

Maybe, he could use Masumi as an excuse – the young man was slumped over on one of the tables, dead to the world. He could say that he was taking Masumi home to rest (and mope) in his bed instead. But, something about Izumi always makes his brain short-circuit and he can’t bring himself to say ‘no’.

Still in a daze, he lets her pull him onto the dance floor. It’s not until he feels one of her hands settle on his shoulder and her other hand clasp around his own, that it really hits him.

An intense surge of emotions wrenches through his gut and he wants to throw up. His mind is a tornado of competing, conflicting thoughts, threatening to rip him apart from the inside. He feels a telltale prickling behind his eyes and he bites down so hard on the inside of his cheek that he can taste blood.

Hide it, he screams at himself. SMILE, damn it.

So, he does. Except, it’s not the smile he means to give – the princely, aloof smile that deflects everything. Instead, he gives Izumi a smile he has hidden for years. The one that he only permits himself to give her in his dreams.

Itaru wants to kick himself – wants to stab his own traitorous heart – because, in his moment of weakness, he is succumbing to the escapist habit he has depended on since childhood. However, this time, instead of imagining himself as Lancelot, as he often did in his youth, he imagines that he is… hers. Imagines that this is their dance. Imagines that he is the one that said ‘I do’ at the altar. Imagines that he can make this beautiful woman, in her pure white dress, happy – for it was this woman that gave him a place to belong and he can’t imagine being anywhere else but by her side.

And, in that moment, Itaru is the happiest he has ever been and he wishes he could keep holding her hand forever. Maybe, this moment could have been real–

If only he didn’t always just decide to give up, then maybe he could have said ‘I’m serious’ instead of ‘I’m just joking.’

If only he was brave enough, then maybe he could have returned her embrace, instead of wrenching himself away.

If only he could hate himself less, then maybe he could have told her: ‘Choose me.’

If only this dream would never end.

If only–

But, he hears the melody beginning to slow down…

Not yet.

… and the last notes of the song fade away.

Please.

Then, their feet come to a halt, and Itaru wakes up.

“Thanks, Itaru! You’ve made me so happy!” she exclaims with a smile that burns its image into his eyes.

And, despite the irrational part of his mind screaming at him to keep hold of her hand, he just gives her a smile – a real one, because he loves her – and gently plants a kiss to the back of her hand before he lets her go.

It took me a long time and many late nights of fiddling around before I was satisfied with this, so hopefully my words got through and you were all able to the fruits of my labour!

I would also highly recommend you all to take a listen to AsaShin’s cover of “So Close” if you can (it’s from the Disney Koe no Ouji-sama Voice Stars Dream Selection II album). There is also the original Japanese version on YouTube with subtitles last I checked as well. Ultimately, this story was a culmination of my feelings and thoughts as I listened to that song.

Anyway, thank you again for reading and feel free to leave a comment with your thoughts or any constructive criticism!! If you enjoyed, please reblog~

-Anmitsu

[pagesofivy]

Homeward Bound 3: Awkward Encounters

PROMPT (Commission by @minimoose23 / @avengerskeeper): Stucky x reader (named Kat/Katy). Kat is coming home at the end of her military career. She wants it to be a surprise, so she enlists the help of her friends to surprise her boyfriends. After that, adjusting to life at the Avengers Compound might be a little more than she expected.

Warnings: angsty feels, lots of tears

Word Count: 1053 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader(Katy) x Bucky Barnes; (Stucky x reader)

Beta:  @ladymidnightt and @sheinthatfandom

Note: This week absolutely got lost to me and so now it’s Monday and I’m posting this a day late. Whoops! Enjoy all the feels I’m giving you.

Find it on AO3

Part 1 || Previous Part

The first few weeks of being home with your boyfriends feels like a fairytale. Nobody Avengers-worthy is causing problems, so they both get to stay home with you and help you adjust to being back on solid ground, surrounded by people you love.

Finally you’re able to do “normal couple” things, though the dates are usually anything but normal. Dating two of the Avengers, one an ex-assassin and one America’s golden boy, makes being “normal” way too hard. It doesn’t stop Steve and Bucky from trying though! 

After you get settled in, they take you on your first date since being back. It’s a little shawarma place on the edges of downtown where the whole team loves to go; the boys are recognized but as regulars, not Avengers. Some of the customers stare as you three order, then sit and eat, but the shop’s employees keep them from prying with stern looks. You’re acutely aware of the stares -- after all, what’s a seemingly average person like you doing with Captain America and his best friend/boyfriend, the Winter Soldier? 

Leaving the shawarma place leaves your trio open to fan-boys and -girls, and it’s hard to walk a block without being stopped for a photo or an autograph. Though you wanted to explore the city, it quickly proves impossible with both supersoldiers by your side, and you have to call Happy to pick you three up so you can avoid the paparazzi and press. Next time, you’ll all wear better disguises.

Your next attempt at a date turns into group movie night with the parts of the team that are around, and instead of Star Wars you end up watching Fast and Furious because cars going zoom across eight movies is cooler than space sword fights, apparently. 

Most everyone settles into the movie room couches, though Clint perches on the arm of a chair, and Tony doesn’t really stop moving, even if he’s sitting down. You make sure to squeeze in between Bucky and Steve, wanting to be cuddled up to them, and the boys oblige, an arm going over your shoulder and a hand on your leg, a comfort you’d missed while being under-way.

As the movie starts, you have to fight Clint and Bucky for the popcorn. They both hog the two big bowls that were meant to be passed around, and though nobody else seems to care, there are some protests that go up, and eventually they relent, passing around the bowls. One Fast and Furious movie becomes almost the rest of the franchise, and you’re ready to hit something because it was supposed to be a quiet night with the original trilogy and your boyfriends, then sleep. Instead, you’re stuck with the group, surrounded by their raucous laughter and loud voices and it slowly erodes your nerves.

Before the fifth movie can start, you wiggle out from between the boys and stand, trying not to look too disgruntled but also absolutely fucking done with the big group. You bid everyone goodnight, not really looking at anyone, and make your way to your room, grumbling once you’re out of earshot.

You take care not to slam your door, then flop on your bed and scream your frustration into a pillow, muffling the noise as best you can. After all, supersoldier means super-hearing, and the less you worry them, the better. With a huff, you sit back up and get ready for bed, putting on your most comfortable pajamas and climbing underneath the blankets. The boys come to bed a little while later, Steve and Bucky lying on either side of you. You try not to let them know you’re still awake, but they know, they can tell, and they press playful kisses to your cheeks and forehead.

“C’mon doll, wake up and talk to us,” Bucky commands between kisses, smiling against your face when you huff and pout in response.

“Almost there sweetheart, let us see your pretty little eyes. We have some news.” Steve’s words are somber, worrying enough that you quickly open your eyes and frown. 

“News? What’s going on?” You try to keep the panic from your voice, but as the boys scoot away so you can sit up, you can see the disappointment on their faces, and your stomach sinks. “Who’s going away?” You ask flatly, shoulders slumped.

Bucky ducks his head, sheepish, before speaking up, “Me, they need my sniper skills. Stevie’s gonna stay with you, and it’s not gonna be a difficult mission. I shouldn’t be gone-”

“Don’t you dare,” you interrupt, “because every time you said that before, it backfired. And I’m betting it still did when I was out and Steve was waiting on your cute ass to get back.” 

It’s meant to be somewhat teasing, but Bucky looks crushed before he buries his face in the crook of your neck, gripping the blankets by you tightly. 

Steve makes a disgruntled sound in the back of his throat and reaches over you, rubbing on Bucky’s arm. “Buck, she’s just joking, please don’t beat yourself up.”

You feel like an outsider in your own relationship, watching these two interact, and you’re reminded that you haven’t been around them closely in a long time. Tears sting your eyes, and you basically pull Steve into your lap, burying yourself between them to keep them from seeing you cry.

“I’m sorry Buck, honestly, it was… it wasn’t meant to be malicious, I’m just so worried about you...” Of course, your huddle turns into a cry-fest, with Steve doing his best to comfort both you and Bucky. Eventually, you two stop crying, and it turns into cuddling, all three comforting each other as best you can.

Bucky kisses your forehead and sighs, “I love you, doll. I didn’t mean to react like that, it’s just… something I’ve gotten worried about lately. Ask Steve, he knows, I talk to him about it a lot.” 

You three spend the rest of the night talking, airing out concerns, assuring each other it will all be okay, and enjoying each other’s time until Bucky has to leave in the morning.

You walk with him onto the Quinjet and manage to hold your tears back until it’s well out of sight, when you collapse into Steve’s arms, energy sapped and heart aching because no amount of time with them will ever feel enough.

Part 4

[mcwriting]

starstruck (4)

Here it is... finally! It’s ~angsty~ but it was really fun to write. 

I will say, I realized while writing this that the timeline of this fic is sooooo short but hey, its fiction, so I guess anything can happen lol. I tried to resolve it in later chapters but it’s definitely quick moving in these initial chapters. 

There’s a lot of italics in this one lol

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

Fandom: Thomas Stanley Holland

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader (eventual)

Setting: LA in general

Word Count: 2240 yeet

Warnings: angst, some mild language

Rating: still k+ right now

Last time on starstruck...

“Hey what’s going on? Uh huh. No, we actually have it handled. I might or might not be with her right now… no it’s fine. Seriously, we are laying low! We’re on the way to the hotel right now. Alright, alright I’ll see what I can do. See you in a few.”

And with that, he hung up, turned to you, and said, “That was my manager. Apparently we’ve got a problem.”

                            __________________________________

You pulled underneath the awning of the posh hotel Tom was boarding at, the kind of place you only dreamed of staying.

Sure, your family wasn’t poor, but your parents definitely weren’t the type of people to spend a lot of money on hotels. They claimed to enjoy spending more money on the “fun” parts of vacations than where you slept at night.

To each their own, you supposed.

Tom wanted you to come inside, per request of his manager, so you figured you would drop him off and park so you wouldn’t be seen together. 

The valet had other plans, however, pulling you out of the car and exchanging your keys with a numbered slip of paper. 

It all happened so fast that for a moment you just stood there, stunned. You snapped out of it when the man began to drive off and Tom grabbed you to lead you inside.

The lobby was massive and covered with marble flooring. A large, plush rug covered many of the tiles and on top of it sat some luxurious couches and armchairs, framing a huge TV on the wall. 

On the other side was a long marble counter that seated hotel staff, who stood at the ready upon seeing Tom.

You also couldn’t help but note the smell, a light, sweet floral scent wafting through the air pleasantly. 

This must be rich people scent you thought to yourself.

Due to the nature of it being midday, very few people were seen in the lobby, and Tom led you straight through to a hallway and past the main elevators, his hand resting on your lower back the entire time.

“I have access to a service lift so less people will see,” he explained, as if he’d just read your confused mind.

You walked briskly with Tom through the winding hall, finally ending up at the alternate elevator, where he swiped his key card and the doors slid open with a few creaks.

You tapped your foot nervously as you passed floor by floor, letting go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding upon reaching the top.

Once again, you followed behind Tom through the hall and to his room. You stood awkwardly in the doorway, clenching onto the straps of your beach bag, as he entered to find more suitable clothing.

After disappearing for a moment, he popped his head back out.

“You can come in, you know. This might take a few minutes.”

You stepped further into his suite, making your way to the sliding doors attached to a balcony. Looking out you could see Los Angeles in full light, the people and cars below feeling so out of reach, like nothing you had ever experienced in your city.

You seemed so out of place in the heavily decorated room still in beach clothing and legs covered in sand.

You could hear Tom rummaging through the drawers and walked over, giving a gentle knock on the open door.

“Having trouble, twinkle toes?” you joked at the way he pillaged through his clothes. He smiled at your commentary.

“Maybe a bit. Do you need anything? A drink, snack? The fridge is stocked so take anything you like.”

You were surprised at his generosity and at how little he cared about paying for that stuff. In your family, everything in the hotel room was off limits if it wasn’t free.

“I think I’m good but do you mind if I use your restroom? I really need to rinse this sand off and put on some real clothes.”

“Go right ahead,” he gestured to the bathroom door.

The bathroom was also massive, especially for a hotel. The shower thankfully had a handheld spray head so you were able to just target and rinse your legs. You tugged on some athletic shorts and a loose tank top to replace your former garments.

You quickly used the toilet too and went to wash your hands, not believing how many fancy soaps and lotions covered the counter. 

As you lathered, a small bottle caught the corner of your eye. It was a light yellowish color and read “OBSESSION for men.” 

Of course he would wear Calvin Klein cologne. Now I know.

You finished up and made a final once over in the mirror, fixing some stray hairs in your ponytail and opening up the door. 

You stopped in your tracks as your eyes laid upon Tom, who was shirtless with his back to you, the elastic of his underwear poking out of his pants’ waistline.

“You’re a pretty big fan of Calvin Klein, huh?” you asked, referring to both the cologne and his boxers. He turned around, giving you a view of his bare chest, which didn’t disappoint, a fact that you pretended was annoying.

“Hah, yeah. I really want to do an ad campaign with them if you couldn’t tell,” he bent over to pick up a shirt from the bed and toss it on. 

“Well with the cologne and underwear you’re pretty much a walking billboard.”

“You like the cologne?” he asked, causing your face to heat up. You knew a blush was present and probably obvious, so you decided not to lie. 

“Yeah, actually I do. It’s a nice scent. It also happens to be all over my bed right now thanks to a certain someone,” you tipped down your chin and raised an eyebrow accusingly. 

“You want it? The company actually sent me like… eight bottles and a bunch of clothes not too long ago after I posted on Instagram about them. I can’t get rid of them fast enough,” he offered, walking towards you.

“What? No! I couldn’t just take that from you. What would I tell my friends when they see men’s cologne bottle in my room? I can’t say ‘oh yeah Tom Holland gave it to me’ and it would be majorly out of character to tell everyone that it’s what you wear.”

He went past you into the bathroom and rummaged through a toiletry bag, muttering an “aha!” when he pulled out another bottle identical to the one on the counter, except this was sealed and full.

“Seriously Tom I can’t just tak-” you started when he dropped the bottle into your bag.

“Whoops,” he quipped, “no take backs. Now your bed can forever smell like me”

You were ready to argue again (with an undeniable smile on your face) when there was a loud rapping on the main door.

Tom grimaced at you to wordlessly send a message of ‘prepare yourself’ as he took a deep breath in and headed out of his bedroom. You silently followed into the living room and watched Tom open the door, where a well dressed man and woman pair stood talking.  

                            __________________________________

At first you and Tom together discussed the plan you had made at the beach with his manager and publicist, neither of whom seemed to like the idea very much.

They asked to speak with Tom privately, so you relocated back into the bedroom and sat on the side of his bed, reminiscing on how the roles were almost reversed compared to only two evenings prior. 

You were only in there for about ten minutes, but it seemed like hours. You were too anxious to mess with your phone and instead looked out his window.

There was a quiet knock on the door before Tom opened it. You recognized the steely look in his eyes and the way his jaw was clenched. 

He motioned for you to come out, and almost immediately after stepping into the living room his manager started talking to you.

“So, y/n, right? I’m gonna have to give this to you straight. You cannot be seen with my client ever again,” she stated bluntly, “it’s nothing against you, of course, but Tom here needs to maintain a ‘single’ rep until this movie is no longer in theatres and frankly you’re jeopardizing the whole thing.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you weren’t happy to hear this woman’s feigned criticisms.

“I’m sorry, but Tom is the one who sought me out. I never liked him, you could ask any person who knows me and they would tell you the same. I’m only here because Tom asked me to meet him about getting rid of this whole ‘scandal’ or whatever you want to call it. So if anyone is jeopardizing Tom, it’s himself.”

The publicist took a step forward.

“Look, miss y/n, it’s really nothing against you, we just want to maintain his image, and the best way to do so would be for us to go online and tell everyone he helped you get medical attention for an injury, which we all know is true, and end it at that. It makes Tom look like a hero, and you’ll be popular for weeks with your peers I’m sure,” he explained, angering you further. 

“I never asked for this. I don’t want attention. I don’t want the world, or more importantly my best friend, to find out I’ve been lying about the guy I used to hate. Do you realize how many rumors this will fuel? This is ridiculous and I can’t allow you to put out my information like this.”

“Oh, well. Too bad. I just sent the tip to TMZ and they’re posting the story tonight,” he replied, “and Tom is going live on Instagram at 4:00 to address it the way we told him to and you two can’t be seen together again. Text all you want like you have been, but no public contact. Unless of course we want to do a ‘girl saved by hero reunites with him’ thing. Oh man would that look so good-”

“I’m done. This is so sick. Tom,” you looked directly into his eyes, “never contact me again, you disgusting cheap sellout bastard,” you spat, a fire in your own eyes like nothing anyone had ever seen from you.

“Y/n I-“ he began, but you were already heading to the door. You could hear footsteps behind you and the door slam shut but you kept power walking towards the main elevators, hoping they were the opposite direction from which you and Tom initially came.

“Wait!” he cried out, finally catching up and grabbing your elbow.

You threw his hand off but stopped moving forward and instead spun around to face him. Tears had made their way down your cheeks by now and you weren’t any happier to be so vulnerable in front of Tom. 

Never in your life did or expect the next (or even last) guy you’d cry over would be Tom Holland.

“Y/n, please listen,” he pleaded, his face was also red, as if he were going to cry himself. You stood firm and gave him an expectant glare, so he continued.

“I don’t want to do this, I really don’t. Please understand that I have to, though, no matter how much this hurts. We can still talk. I was so drawn to you the second I saw you in that crowd just last week and I could’ve never imagined how close you could become in the short amount of time we’ve known each other. Please, babe, I don’t want to lose you.”

Anger flashed inside of you again and you felt your chest tighten at the bomb he’d just dropped..

“Do you really, Tom? Do you really care? Because to me it sounds like you actually have a choice here, but you’re too much of a pushover to do what’s right. If you really cared, you wouldn’t do this to me. I was serious back there. Don’t talk to me again, and definitely don’t call me babe if you do.” 

 “I’m so, so sorry, y/n,” Tom’s voice finally broke, and you could see the way his lip quivered as he continued, “I’m sorry I ever got you into this mess.”

“Me too,” you whispered. 

You wiped more stray tears and turned, looking back one last time into the face of the broken-hearted celebrity, hoping it was the last time you would ever see his face, but knowing it wouldn’t be the end of it.

                            __________________________________

You exited the elevator, which you were glad was empty. More tears had fallen on the journey down and you mustered up everything you could to stop them, at least until you were off the premises of the hotel. 

Though knowing you looked like a wreck, you walked through the hotel lobby with head held high, looking straight forward at the large front doors. 

Your numbered ticket was in hand and you gladly gave it to the valet so he could pull up your car.

It was getting harder to hold it together as you waited. Finally, he appeared and parked the car in front of you.

He held out the keys and then stood directly in front of you, silently pleading for a tip, even though he could probably see the obvious anguish on your face. 

Finally, you gave in, rolling your eyes as you dug through your bag for a spare $5 bill and slapped it into his hand with disdain.

“How kind. Have a nice day, ma’am!” he voiced cheerily.

You fought the urge to flip him off as you sat down in the driver’s seat and began the journey back home, dread filling your stomach the closer home became.

                           __________________________________

A/N: yeehaw that was a fun time. Next chapter is angsty too sorry I don’t make the rules... :)

Tag List: @marvel-lously, @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl

[twilightofthe]

Obi-Wan Kenobi, Ahsoka Tano, annnnnnnd Luke Skywalker

Probs gonna be a long post since I Cannot Shut Up, so here we go!

OBI WAN (see look I told you this was gonna be long)

How I feel about them:  HELLO HI YES I LOVE HIM A NORMAL AMOUNT.  Okay okay, besides the fact that he is Very Nice To Look At (c’mon, I must, I have EYES), I genuinely love Obi Wan because he wants to be a good person so, so badly, and he’s always ALWAYS trying to be better because he doesn’t believe he already is a good person.  His life is a literal living hellhole and he doesn’t crumple under all of that tragedy like literally everyone else does, he takes a moment, puts a cheeky smile back on his face, and gets back up and keeps going.  He can be a hypocrite, he tends to look over things he really shouldn’t or gets the wrong idea about things and just shuts off what he doesn’t want to deal with, he’s overconfident and a little snobby and petty and a bit of an asshole, and he makes mistakes because he is human, and I love him for all of those flaws because if he was perfect, I wouldn’t like him as much.  He’s funny and reckless and would literally die before letting anything he cared about get hurt, he wants to do everything at once so he can help everyone and he literally gives all of himself to a cause because he cares and y’all, he is the most distinguished disaster I have ever come across and he deserves peace and rest and loved ones who don’t die in his arms or betray him and he’s one of the most brilliant fighters I have ever seen and he just draws you in.  You can’t help but want to watch him.

Romantic ships:  I will love him and Anakin together past my dying breaths; they’re soulmates.  I can also enjoy seeing him with Quinlan or Ventress, and of course Satine.

Non-Romantic OTPs:  Anakin again, I just love them and will take them any way I can get.  Also Cody, Cody is great.  And Ahsoka-- especially post-Order 66 (c’mon Kenobi movie don’t let me down now).  And Padmé!  Ugh, I’m mad TCW refused to let us see the Obi/Pads friendship the movies promised us they had.

Unpopular Opinion:  Two big ones.  First, that Anakin is the most important person in his life.  I can’t see it any other way, and I know other people would disagree.  Second, that he’s a good person and ALSO kinda a jerk.  He’s one of the most popular figures in this fandom with the most mercurial fanbase.  I’d say a good 85% adore him, but then the 15% who don’t hate him with a burning passion.  Seriously, it’s like to these people Palpatine was a better Master to Anakin than he was, jeez-- I’m digressing.  Anyway, it’s like in retaliation, the other 85% have put him up on a pedestal as someone who’s done no wrong whatsoever.  And here I am in the middle like, I love him to hell and back and always will, he’s legit one of my favorite characters, but he isn’t perfect.  Like I said, it’s hard for me to like perfect characters with no flaws.  So yea, I guess that’s it.

Something I wish would happen/had happened with them in canon:  MORE OBIKIN MOMENTS BECAUSE I’M NEEDY.  Ok but in reality, there’s a couple things, most I’m discovering have to do with female characters.  I wish he hadn’t faked his death when Ahsoka was there.  I get why Anakin had to be there to witness it, otherwise he wouldn’t believe it, but Obes, my dude, there was no reason why you had to (further) traumatize a sixteen year old over this.  She really did not need to have you die in her arms, you of all people know how shitty that feels.  I also want to know why he didn’t speak up (or if he did and we didn’t see it) at Ahsoka’s trial.  Was he being punished for Mandalore?  Going off of that, I wish we actually got to see him mourn Satine for more than 0.5 seconds of him looking sad after she died and then it literally never being brought up again (I’m looking at you here, Season 7, give me SOMETHING).  I’d also like to see him having some sort of meaningful interaction with Leia that would make her naming her only child after him make more sense (I actually have a really good penpals style idea about this, but I don’t know if I’d be able to write it before the Kenobi show comes out and josses it).  Also, I heard that the original Twin Suns episode of Rebels was supposed to have Kanan going to Tatooine with Ezra, and I really would like to see a Kanan/Obi Wan interaction, it just sounds like so much potential for angsty goodness!!! ;_;

AHSOKA

How I feel about them: My brave, brave girl!  She was what got me into the prequels in general, if you can believe it (wow, my star wars watching order is just WEIRD), I had to know more about her after seeing literally one glimpse of her in Rebels and then saw the Tumblr fandom explode.  She’s enduring and snarky and clever and a total badass and I adore how we got to see her grow from a spunky little kid into a shining, confident young woman who I’d follow anywhere.  Anyway, I love her and god did she deserve so much BETTER FROM EVERYTHING.  HER LIFE SUCKED TOO AND SHE TOLD LIFE TO FUCK OFF AND KEPT GOING.

Romantic ships:  I adore her and Kaeden Larte from the Ahsoka novel and you can pry my headcanon that they’re still together up to the Sequel trilogy out of my cold dead hands.  Also Barriss Offee (WHY DO ALL MY STAR WARS SHIPS HAVE A PATTERN?  CAN WE NOT BE BETRAYING EACH OTHER FOR FIVE SECONDS PLEASE).  Also Riyo Chuchi, that was really cute!!!

Non-Romantic OTP’s:  Snips n’ Skyguy all the way!!!!  But also argh, I adore Ahsoka and Rex and everything about them and Season 7 is going to KILL ME.  I also love seeing Ahsoka and Padmé interact, and I really do like the little bits we see of her and Obi Wan and I want MORE of them >:(

Unpopular Opinion:  This is gonna sound weird since I just said that seeing Ahsoka in Rebels was what got me into TCW and the prequels, but I really didn’t like her characterization in Rebels all that much after I went back and saw her in TCW.  I know she grew up and was traumatized and matured, but Rebels!Ahsoka just seemed a bit too severe, a bit too peaceful (she’s always been a firebrand), a bit too quiet.  Yea she grew, but I feel like the environment she grew up in wouldn’t foster the personality change she got in Rebels.  She was a bit of a hot mess in TCW, and the Ahsoka novel kinda showed more of that personality in an older version of her and felt more right than what we got in Rebels.  

Something I wish would happen/had happened with them in canon: A GROUP HUG WITH ANAKIN AND OBI WAN IN SEASON 7, PREFERABLY HER PICKING THEM BOTH UP LEGEND OF KORRA STYLE.  Ok but really there’s a LOT of things.  First, that she never liked Lux Bonteri.  I’m sorry, I’m petty.  He just reminds me way too much of my IRL friend’s stupidass boyfriend who I Do Not Like and I never got what Ahsoka actually saw in him ;p  Second is that I did not like how Ezra saved her in Rebels.  It’s a grumpy point for me because I certainly like how she managed to outlive the entire Order that kicked her out, it’s poetic, and if they did have Vader kill her I’d still be grumpy because it would be just another Prequel era woman who got killed off because she wasn’t in the OT while the males all find some way to be alive despite not being in the OT.  HOWEVER, you will never convince me that Kanan wasn’t the one who deserved that time-travel fixit.  Kanan had a family-- a CHILD, who he left behind.  Kanan had a future, and a story point that was just left unfinished and unsatisfying for me and other fans, if what I’ve heard was right.  As much as it would annoy me, Ahsoka dying facing Vader makes sense from a narrative point because it would follow the path that Vader destroys everyone he ever loved until he meets Luke.  Kanan’s death felt sudden and forced, and the fact that they had the audacity to use his death to be like “oh no Kanan had to die and become a Spirit Wolf solely to tell Ezra he needed to bring AHSOKA back”, come on.  Rebels didn’t establish Ahsoka and Kanan having any sort of meaningful relationship, it makes no sense for that to be his final wish, so it just feels a LOT like favoritism on Filoni’s part.  So yea, I don’t know what I wanted to save Ahsoka because I did want her alive, but it definitely shouldn’t have been at the expense of Kanan.  Meh.  Ok, but on a happier note, I really wanna see Anakin’s ghost on Endor reuniting with her again cuz that would be sweet and make me cry.  I also wanna see Ahsoka interacting with Obi Wan on Tatooine in the new show because please it would be perfect, she’s already met Leia, now she can meet Luke!  Also, if we could actually see her find Ezra, that would be very nice, thank you.

LUKE

How I feel about this character: Luke Skywalker is one of the bravest, most kindest men in the galaxy.  He’s not the stereotypical macho hero, he’s goofy and he whines and sulks and he makes dumb jokes and he rushes right into things, but he’s determined as all hell and once he loves you, he’s never letting go.  He wants to fix everything!  He has so many ideas!  He’s so bright and you can’t help but fall in love with his smile and his sparkling eyes and you want all his dreams and plans (because he has so, so many of them) to come true, and he will make them come true, because he is stubborn like both of his parents before him.  He worked through the discovery of his beloved father being a monster, and not only did he love him despite that, he did the unthinkable and BROUGHT HIM BACK.  LUKE BROUGHT ANAKIN HOME BECAUSE HE LOVED AND BELIEVED IN HIM AND HE WAS STRONG ENOUGH TO DO IT.  I just wish he had gotten the happy ending his parents never did (and that he had had for 40 years before it was ripped away whoops I got salt on this haha).

Romantic ships: Complicated.  I think he would be really cute with Ezra if they ever actually met; their personalities would mesh nicely and I think they’d make a great team!  However, I don’t really ship him with anyone else, and me the ace again is projecting major aro/ace vibes onto him because I can *blows raspberry*

Non-Romantic OTP:  BROT3 WITH HAN AND LEIA!!!!  FOREVER AND ALWAYS!!!!!!!!  Y’all but they literally saved the galaxy together, and Luke and Leia love each other so much they knew there was a connection from the very beginning and always supported each other and the BEST space siblings, argh that forehead kiss was my favorite part of The Last Jedi I cry but I also love the chaotic dumbass duo that is Han and Luke and how they’d legit die for each other and have each others’ backs.  And, Luke and R2 will always always make my heart melt because these guys are the best team!  And Chewie, cannot forget Chewie, Chewie loves his stupid blonde little brother.  Ya know what, I’ll also add in Rey for the pure potentiality of what could have been.

Unpopular Opinion:  Well it’s certainly not unpopular to anyone I talk to, but Lucasfilms disagrees with me, so I’m gonna put forth that I don’t care WHAT the explanation is, I could never ever ever see Luke even thinking about murdering his nephew in his sleep, not just a “slip up”, not “only for a second”, no.  Yes, people can change in thirty years, and I’ve begrudgingly accepted a lot of his actions in TLJ, but not that one.  Luke would NEVER.  A more unpopular one I have would be that he’s not as much of a “innocent cinnamon roll” as fandom makes him out to be.  We see from the beginning of Episode 4 that Luke has the Skywalker temper and he’s a bit on the rude side, even though to me that seems a little more like issues with a filter that he works on developing throughout the OT.  But yeah, people tend to declaw him a bit and forget this is the same sarcastic, snarky guy that can and will happily kick the ass of basically anyone who he can’t talk his way out of trouble with (in this, he is very much Obi Wan’s apprentice).

Something I wish would happen/had happened with them in canon:  LET HIM APPEAR TO REY WITH ANAKIN’S FORCE GHOST 2K19!!!  PLEASE JJ I BEG YOU YOU LITERALLY NAMED THE MOVIE AFTER THEM.  Also, please just let him take an active role in Episode 9.  I understand it’s about the new protagonists, but please do not include the Sequel Trilogy in the “Skywalker Saga” if you’re just gonna sideline him the entire time.  If he couldn’t have his original happy ending, please let him be happy at the end of all of this.

[nitewrighter]

Mercy passing her pendant onto Rei. Would that be an angsty prompt?

You know, I’ve had this in my askbox a while, and I got it after writing this thing, and I’ve wanted to do something with it, and now that it’s Gency Week, I’m thinking now’s my chance to do it… aaaaand this’ll likely be a part of a several-part series I’ve been planning so might as well start it now, right?

For “Light” and “Family” for Gency week.

—-

“Reeiiii!”  Genji’s call sounded across the apartment as he shouldered a duffle bag, “The Orca’s warming up! Come on! We’re going to be late!”

“Give me a second!” Rei called back from her room.

“Teenagers,” muttered Genji.

Mercy elbowed him softly. “Our teenager,” she said with a smile.

Genji huffed a little. “How do you manage to make me feel ancient with just two words?” he asked, drumming his fingers along the strap of his duffle bag, “Rei!” he called again.

“Just a minute!” Rei called back.

In a room where the walls were all but completely covered in Midori Rider and Lone Wolf and Cub posters, Rei was tapping away at a keyboard, eyes scanning down the holoscreen of her monitor. “Come on…” she said, opening an email from her Virtu-School, “Come on…”

“This means a lot to Zenyatta,” muttered Genji, “What could possibly be more important than—?”

A whoop came from Rei’s room and Rei scrambled out, her backpack on one shoulder. “A!” She shouted, “Last class! I got an A! I graduated!”

“What?” Genji dropped the duffle bag. 

Rei brought up the holoscreen on her comm. “Final grades finally came in,” she said, a little bit smugly. She looked over at Mercy. “I know it’s not exactly medical school but–”

Mercy’s hands were cupped over her mouth and her eyes were glittering with tears as Genji took Rei up in a tight hug.

“Mom?” Rei said, and then was rocked back on her heels from a hug from her mother as well. Rei was barely able to put one arm around Mercy before Mercy broke away with her hands on Rei’s shoulders. “My sunneschii…” she said, a tear budding out at the corner of her eyes.

“Mom–” Rei started.

“Stay right there,” said Mercy, suddenly rushing past Rei down the hall of the apartment.

“Angela we still need to go!” Genji called after her.

“I know! It’ll just be a minute!” Angela shouted back from their bedroom. There was the sound of desperate rifling through drawers, and quiet muttering in German.

“Here!” said Mercy, finally emerging from the room after two minutes and walking down the hall, gingerly holding something in both hands. Rei squinted a little and saw a thin gold chain draped over her fingers. Rei held her hands out and Mercy placed a small pendant on a gold chain in her palm. The pendant itself was gold, oval-shaped, and only a little larger than her thumbnail, and it featured a very worn down winged circle on it. Or at least it looked like a winged circle. It reminded Rei a bit of the logo on her mother’s valkyrie suit. “That,” said Mercy, “Is our coat of arms. What’s left of it at least. It’s been passed down countless generations of Pfenningers–My mother’s side of the family. Well… countless because a lot of us—” Mercy cut herself off and shook her head, “Anyway, originally, the tradition was that you would have it when I was gone but… I figure it’s time for a new tradition, don’t you?”

“Mom…” Rei said quietly.

“My parents never got to see me graduating… anything,” said Mercy, “Now I know it’s terribly old fashioned, and you don’t have to wear it if you don’t like it, and you don’t need to have your own children to pass it on to, but if you could just hang on to it—”

“I’ll wear it,” said Rei, “It’s beautiful, Mom. Thank you.”

Mercy blinked a few times, and bit the inside of her lip and smiled before hugging Rei tightly again and kissing her forehead. Genji gave Rei a slight tousle of her hair before picking his duffle bag back up. He glanced at the clock across the room as Mercy fastened the pendant around Rei’s neck.

“As… wonderful as all this is…” he said quietly, “We still have an Orca to catch.”

“I know,” said Rei, “I’m ready.”

—

It was a short Orca ride to London from Gibraltar. Rei’s eyes kept trailing over to Zenyatta, who seemed unable to decide between going over loose leaf notes and meditating. Mercy was busying herself with her tablet, and Rei found herself mindlessly rubbing her thumb over the pendant she had been given. 

“Is he okay?” Rei said in a hushed tone to Genji.

“He’s just nervous,” said Genji.

Rei processed this for a few seconds. “Wait—Master Zenyatta gets nervous?”

“This is very important to him,” said Genji, quietly.

Rei brought her legs up in her seat and hugged her knees a little. “I didn’t know Mondatta,” she said quietly.

“That’s all right,” said Genji.

“Did you know him?” asked Rei, looking over to her father.

Genji thought for a little bit, “I think we met very briefly, but not enough to really get to know him. He and Master had… different beliefs.”

“But they’re still family,” said Mercy.

“Still family,” Genji said quietly after her.

“Well it’s just a little speech,” said Rei, “It can’t be that scary, can it?”

“I am not a dogmatist,” Zenyatta spoke up at last, his orbs around him spinning and bouncing restlessly as he stared at the piece of paper in front of him, “I am not a lecturer. I’m barely even a monk.”

“You’ll do fine, Master. If you can get through through my stubbornness, this crowd should be no problem,” said Genji.

“Yeah!” said Rei, “And I’m sure it won’t even be that big of a…” she looked out the window of the orca as it descended on London and saw hundreds of glittering white and yello lights of candles and cellphones in the square where Mondatta’s massive statue stood, “…deal…” Rei finished her sentence as the Orca lowered down to a vacant lot.

“…How large is the crowd?” asked Zenyatta.

“Not big!” said Rei, “Definitely not like two thousand people.” 

Mercy sighed and touched her hand to her forehead as the paper in Zenyatta’s hands crinkled with anxiety. “…How many people?” Zenyatta asked.

“Don’t uh… don’t worry about it…You’ll do fine?” Rei’s voice came out a near squeak. 

“Maybe it’s not too late to go back,” said Zenyatta, “Maybe—”

The door of the Orca opened and Emily came bounding into the Orca and took up Zenyatta in a hug and then eagerly shook his hand.

“You’re here!” She said, “You’re here! Oh thank goodness, everyone’s waiting for you!”

“Me?” Zenyatta said sheepishly.

“Well yes, we’ve already had the Shambali Liaison to Numbani speak, the Human/Omnic Marriage Rights Front Representatives speak, we’ve had a handful of volunteers from the relief shelters rallying people up, and now that you’re here we can finally kick off the vigil!” Emily exhaled, “You have no idea how much this means to everyone.”

“…No idea at all…” Zenyatta repeated hollowly.

“Em?” Tracer leaned into the Orca, “We’re on the clock here, we need to get him to that stage.”

“I thought time didn’t tell Lena Oxton what to do?” said Emily, looking over her shoulder.

“Well no, not me,” said Tracer, “’Fraid I can’t say the same for everyone else though, love,” Tracer gave a small wave to Mercy and Genji as they were standing up out of their seats, “Doc–Genji, good to see you again—” she cut herself off as she looked at Rei, “Look at you! Cor blimey you just… sprung up all at once, didn’t you!?” 

“It’s only been a couple of months,” said Rei, a little sheepishly.

“You have no business being this tall,” said Tracer joke-scoldingly. Rei just fidgeted with her hair before Tracer hugged her. “Been too long, love.” She looked at the rest of the family, “Welp. People are waiting. Shall we?”

Mercy hooked her arm in Genji’s and they walked out of the Orca into the streets of London.

Zenyatta was nervously folding up his notes when Rei sidled up alongside him, “Come on,” she said, “It’s going to be fine.”

“You are not the one giving the speech,” said Zenyatta as Rei hooked her arm in his and he begrudgingly floated alongside her.

“But I believe in you!” said Rei as Emily handed her a lit candle for the vigil, “That counts for something, right?”

“Let’s hope so,” said Zenyatta.

Rei gave a glance down to the pendant around her neck, “I think it does,” she said, smiling.

[richietozierluv]

he first knew - (bill denbrough)

Pairing: Bill Denbrough x Reader

Summary: As the unmentioned leader of the Loser’s Club, they look to him for support, for someone to tell them what to do and that it’s going to be okay. Until now, no one made the effort to tell him that he’s going to be okay, and because of you, maybe he will start to believe these things himself.

Author’s Note: I swear it’s not as angsty as it sounds, I always write at like 1am so maybe it’s reflecting into my writing whoops

Word Count: 1,505

Warnings: Swearing and ?Wasps?

“We gotta be c-c-careful, I don’t want to leave a muh-muh-mess. My dad will be –“

He spat out a number of ‘p’s, and finally managed to say ‘pissed off’. You, Bill, and Eddie were taking advantage of Bill’s empty house, by playing, what was supposed to be, a friendly game of Monopoly.

“It’s not my fault that she’s clearly fucking cheating!” Eddie pointed at you accusingly. Sure, he was your best friend, but he was a pain in the ass. Oh my god he was such a pain in the ass.

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” you retorted.

“Ha, ha. Do you even realise how many germs there are in your mouth? You’d be literally sucking someone to death.”

“Eds,” he threw a dice at you, “you are a germ.”

Bill watched this catfight play out as he cleaned up the remains of the game pieces, and put the game back under the TV cabinet. It ended with a poor “your mom” joke on Eddie’s side, and a middle finger on yours. After he had slammed the door and left, you turned to Bill.

“Sorry Big Bill, I thought he’d finally learnt how to not suck at playing games.”

You plopped down on the couch, and flicked through the pile of movies Bill had selected for your weekly movie night.

“I guess it’s only e-ever a matter of time until h-he throws a tantrum. We can’t expect too much from the kid.” He sat down next to you, and almost punched you in the cheek in order to grab ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’ from your hands. “You think you’re up for it this time?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh my god, are you kidding me? Not only am I up for it, but I will love watching you st-st-stutter in fear,” you both smiled at each other, only noticing how close your faces were when the front door started to unlock. Instinctively, you both jumped back.

You both said goodnight to Bill’s parents, who had walked upstairs almost as soon as they were inside.

His parents loved you, or at least that’s what Bill thought, but it was hard to make a judgement when they didn’t speak to their son all that much, let alone you. The first time you met them, his mother had offered a reluctant, “Hello, nice to meet you, Y/n,” and you worried yourself thinking you had made a bad first impression. But when you turned around to see Bill’s expression of absolute overjoy, you felt reassured; although a little sad that such a small gesture could make him so happy.

After discovering that you were in fact, not up for it, and could only watch the movie through the fingers over your eyes, and with the help of Bill’s arms around you, the both of you had fallen asleep on the couch.

Unsurprisingly, his parents didn’t even notice.

-

A few weeks before, Beverly, Ben, Stan, Eddie, and you, listened intently to Richie’s take on what happened to him and Bill at the infamous house on Neibolt Street.

“I swear to god, IT almost had me by the balls. If it weren’t for Bill and his gun, I would no longer be a man.”

“I-I don’t know w-what a duh-duh-dead thing smells like, but now- now I th-think I do,” Beverly’s hand went to her mouth, “it smells- it smells like shit.” Any other time they would laugh, and Richie would congratulate Bill on telling a ‘ripper of a joke’. But all he got in response was a look from you, a look that knew too well, he supposed.

“And the worst thing is, it didn’t even look like a real werewolf. It looked like something from a movie, I saw the zipper on its back.” Richie fumbled with a loose thread at the edge of his Hawaiian shirt, not knowing exactly what else to say. To be honest, he was expecting more of a reaction than just the sound of Eddie pumping his asthma puffer. The only weird thing about that, was that he did it only the once, almost as if he was contemplating letting his head get cloudy enough to knock him out. Over the next few hours or so, the barrens became a confessional. Everyone started to share their own encounters with IT; Beverly and her bathroom sink, Eddie’s leper lover at the aforementioned house, and your encounter with the giant wasp nest in your bedroom.

-

At 7pm, although undiscussed, the group split into pairs so that they’d make it home in time for dinner. You left Eddie with Richie and Ben when you realised Bill was walking alone.

“So I guess you won’t be seeing Attack of the Werewolf 2 anytime soon?” you nudged him playfully, and he smiled sadly back.

“I-It’s too bad you’re sc-scared of was-was-“

You let him stutter for a few moments before saying, “You aren’t allowed to make fun of what I’m scared of. We signed a disclosure agreement.”

“S-sorry… Do you w-want to know where was-wasps come from?”

“Bill-“

“St-stingapore.”

You threatened to push Bill onto the road, even though there were no cars at this time of night in Derry, but gave in to laughter when he smiled at you wildly. Partly because the joke wasn’t half bad, and partly because you felt like there were butterflies- no, wasps- in your chest at the mere sound of his voice. You didn’t care that it cracked and stuttered, you would do or say anything to hear it.

-

Bill invited you in, as his parents would be home late, and went to the kitchen to grab you both a can of soda. He tripped over his own feet, and let the cans roll out of his hands, when he heard you playing a familiar tune on the piano in the back room. The light that filtered in through the hallway draped itself over you, enabling you to see the piano keys in the dark. You fumbled, hit all the wrong notes, but it still sounded okay.

“How-how do you know that song?”

You jumped when Bill had sat down next to you.

“My dad- he had this crappy little keyboard, but he’d always play this song to me when I was little and I couldn’t sleep.” You were all too aware of Bill shaking, and laced your fingers with his so that he would stop.

“Can you teach me- a- a little bit?” he was whispering, but it sounded loud, and you could hear him trying not to cry.

“Okay, put your right hand here,” you shifted it with your own, “and your left hand,” you untangled your fingers and positioned it in front of him. “It can be a bit tricky at first,” you smiled, forgetting he couldn’t see you. You moved his fingers to the right keys so that it sounded like it should be a song but wasn’t quite, and before Bill could tell you that his mother used to play this song to Georgie, you asked him, “Bill, I know you’re not, but- are you okay?”

He wasn’t shaking anymore, but full on hiccupping with sobs. You held him tightly, brushing your hand gently through his hair.

-

Bill’s crush on you started out as puppy love. After picking up the dinted cans of soda, and getting a new pair from the fridge, he plopped down on the couch next to you, as if he had done it hundreds of times before, even though this had been your first time at his house without the others. He passed you a Coca Cola, felt his heart jump when you smiled a thank you, and stuttered, “Do- do you wuh-wuh-want to watch a movie?”

Throughout the film, he stared at you, noticing as if for the very first time, how beautiful you looked, even with the only light coming from the television screen.

-

You first kissed him when you let him beat you at a game of Scrabble, because you just couldn’t resist how happy he looked, and wanted to live in that moment forever. It was messy, you had grabbed him by the neck of his shirt, and pulled him over the game board. When you pulled back, you didn’t even for a moment think he wouldn’t want to kiss you, but you wanted a good look at his face; eyes closed, mouth still puckered, and his cheeks as red as yours. He knocked over the rest of the Scrabble letters almost like a little kid, or Eddie, who was losing at a game, to collide his lips with yours once again.

-

He first knew he loved you when he woke up in the middle of the night, after watching ‘A Nightmare on Elm Street’, and felt entirely too warm with you sleeping right next to him on the couch. But instead of waking you up, he pulled you closer and tighter, never wanting to feel cold again.

AN: i am finally getting out of my writer’s block but it’s probably not healthy sitting in the dark on my laptop at 2am writing and writing and oh god. anyways hopefully this is okay! I've never really read any bill stuff myself, but i do love him a lot and just wanted to care for him because WHO ELSE WILL??????

tagged: @riverdalerebel

[xfirespritex]

More than Friends

Prompt: OMG YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN! Seth Rollins. Seth and (Y/N) have been best friends for years, he has had feelings for her all that time and is just so sweet and cute to her. He gets jealous when she accepts to go out on a date with Baron. Roman tries to enter some sense into him. Angsty/fluff (you know me haha), maybe smutty. Hope this is clear. Thank you!

Requested by @heeltothequeen

Tag List:

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More Than Friends

--

“Hey, Y/N!”

I turned at the familiar voice calling out to me and smiled, seeing Seth walking towards me. We were in a park near my house and had arranged to meet up to hang out for a bit. Kevin pulled at his leash to reach me and I crouched to pet him in greeting.

“Hey pup!” I exclaimed, petting him and scratching behind his ears as he licked at my chin. I smiled at the dog and ruffled his ears a bit before standing and leaning into Seth’s side, a half hug as we began to walk.

We talked about Seth’s current storyline and I caught him up on the things happening in NXT where I still worked. I lamented on not being in the first ever Women’s Royal Rumble and he lamented that the current story with Jason was growing stale with fans.

As we walked I wondered briefly how people were looking at us. An older couple smiled at me as we walked and I smiled back and I saw the old lady whisper to her husband. I could’ve sworn I heard the words “reminds me of us” as we passed but I did my best to push it out of my mind. I was sure we looked like a couple but that had never been Seth and me. Instant friends that improved each other’s lives without needing to complicate it in any way and I couldn’t express how grateful I was for that.

“So, everyone’s going out tonight, you coming?” Seth asked as we rounded another curve in the park path, heading back to our cars.

“Who is everyone?” I asked.

“Roman, Baron, Corey, Dean, Renee, a few of the other girls I think.”

“Where are we going?”

Seth shrugged. “Renee hasn’t decided yet, she needs a head count to make the reservation.”

“Sure, I’m in,” I said. Seth pulled his phone out of his pocket and texted Renee. She responded with several smiley faces and I laughed as we approached my car. I crouched down and scratched Kevin behind the ears before standing and hugging Seth quickly.

“See you at six?” Seth asked.

“Yeah, want me to drive?” I said.

Seth smiled at me. “If you don’t mind.”

I laughed. “I’ll see you at six.”

--

Sure enough at six o’clock I pulled up to Seth’s house and I didn’t even have to honk the horn or text him as he walked out the front door, locked it behind him and strode over to my car. He had on dark jeans and a nice light gray button up shirt and his hair was pulled back in a man bun.

I smiled as he opened the door and got into the passenger seat.

“Hey,” I said as he settled. His eyes landed on me and he let out a playful whistle.

“Damn, Y/N. Who you dressed up for?” he asked, smirking.

I rolled my eyes as I looked down at my simple dress. It was a black mid-length dress with a high neck and keyhole opening on the front and back, showing a bit of skin but not much at all.

“Is it too much?” I asked, suddenly uncertain of my outfit. Seth let out a laugh and reached a hand over, covering mine with his and giving it a squeeze.

“Y/N, you look great, okay? Let’s go, we’ve got a dinner to get to.”

I nodded and reversed out of his driveway, heading to the restaurant.

When we arrived it was easy to find our group, always loud and always visually easy to spot we headed towards them, offering smiles and nods at the hostess who waved us back. As we approached I rushed forward a little to hug Renee and Dean who I hadn’t seen in a while before making my way around to everyone else present, stopping at Baron who was sitting farthest away from where I’d walked in.

“Hey shorty,” Baron teased. I laughed.

“Isn’t everyone “shorty” to you?” I asked.

He smiled and nodded, conceding my point. I turned as Seth came over and shook hands with the taller man and we all soon settled into our seats and began looking over the menu. Seth’s arm slid around my shoulders and I turned to look at him. Wordlessly he pointed at the bruschetta appetizer and smirked at me.

I nodded excitedly and his smile grew before his eyes went back to his menu. I looked back at mine, hopeless as everything look delicious and I was admittedly hungry.

“Can’t decide?”

I turned at the deep rumble and looked at Baron who sat on my other side, a small smile on his face.

“Nope,” I said as my eyes went back down. “Everything looks so great.”

Baron laughed. “What are you in the mood for?”

I shrugged. “Not sure, really I’m just hungry,” I said.

“Should I get two orders of bruschetta then? Since you’ll eat the entire order?” I turned to see Seth’s teasing smile and lightly hit his shoulder in protest.

“I won’t eat it all.”

“That’s a lie,” Seth said.

“Why is that a lie?” Baron asked, looking at Seth over my head.

“Have you seen her eat?”

I grumbled and mimicked Seth’s words like a child, tilting my head sarcastically and making a face. Baron and Seth laughed and, by the time the waitress came back I’d decided on my meal, happily passing my menu down and taking a sip of water.

--

Hours passed in the restaurant and I found myself in near constant giggles between Seth and Baron. We all paid up and as we made our way to the exit I felt a large hand on the middle of my back, warm and strong.

Glancing up quickly I saw Baron and smiled at him. “What’s up?”

“You coming out for part two?” Baron asked.

“Part two?” I echoed.

Renee smiled brightly as she turned, hearing my question.

“We’re gonna go check out that adult arcade place down the street,” she chirped, smiling widely. Dean smiled ruefully at his wife, looking at her like she could do no wrong.

“Renee has us all captive, safest to just go with it,” Dean said, laughing.

I laugh and turned to look at Seth who is talking with Roman a few steps behind us. “You in?”

Seth nodded quickly, seemingly distracted and I turned and smiled at Renee who let out a little whoop of happiness and our group walked off to the arcade.

Once inside I looked around at all the games and smiled, remembering time spent in arcades when I was younger. Quickly grabbing my wallet I went and got a game card and dove right into the games, groaning when I hear Seth, Roman and Dean immediately challenging each other to beat their high scores and get the most tickets.

“Not interested in the competition, tonight?”

I laughed at Baron’s question. “Not tonight, no. They are all so competitive but right now I just wanna have fun.”

“So let’s go then,” Baron said, offering his arm to me.

I looped my arm through his and walked off with Baron, heading to the crane games and simple silly games, immediately trying to decide which stuffed animal I want from the crane in front of me.

“Do you ever win at these things?” Baron asked.

“Sometimes,” I said, swiping my game card and grabbing a hold of the joystick, tapping it forward to the bear that is my goal.

Baron watched intently, his body near enough to mine that I can feel the warmth coming from him and I smile to myself. Despite his gruff appearance and attitude Baron’s sweet side comes out now and then and I am glad he’s beside me, happy to have a companion not arguing over points.

I hit the button and watched as the crane went down but immediately I knew I’m off and I frown.

“Dammit,” I say, sighing. I watched as the crane lowered and brushes the prize I want but as it closes it missed the mark and I watch ruefully as the crane raises back up, empty.

I give it a few more tries, getting closer each time but on my fourth failure I decide to give up and turn to Baron.

“Guitar Hero?” I ask, pointing. Baron laughs and heads over with me and we each pick up the controller, swiping our cards and assuming a rock star stance on the platform, ready to goof off.

I spend the night talking, laughing and joking with Baron, intermittently running into the rest of group and watching as Dean maniacally counting his tickets and working to figure out how far ahead he is of his Shield brethren.

As the arcade begins to clear of customers we realize we’re approaching closing time and Renee rounds us all up and we leave together, heading back to our cars where we’d parked them earlier.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Baron asks as we walk.

“I did, thanks for sticking with me tonight, it was nice having an arcade buddy,” I say, leaning playfully into Baron as we walk. He laughs and smiles at me and I return it, feeling my lips stretch into a wide grin.

“I was thinking, Y/N, would you want to go out again some time?”

“Here with everyone? Only if we can convince Seth and Roman to not spend all their time at that basketball game,” I say, laughing.

“No, I mean just you and me…and it doesn’t have to be here.”

I glance up at Baron quickly, not sure if I heard him correctly. “You mean…like a date?” I ask.

Baron nods, putting his hands in his pockets. I smile softly at the gesture, noting that it’s one of nervousness.

“Sure, Baron, I’d be happy to.”

Baron’s lips immediately curve into a smile as we approach all of cars and his hands come out of his pockets, relief obvious on his face.

“Awesome,” he said, the smile growing. I smile back and once at my car I turn to hug the large man. He hugs me to him, gently but keeping me close. “I’ll text you so we can figure out a day,” he said, his breath warm on my skin and making me feel a small flutter in my stomach.

I nodded as I pulled back and we smiled at each other before turning to everyone else in our group and saying goodbye. I smiled at Seth over the hood of my car and he just looked at me quietly. I unlocked the car and we both got in.

“Ready?” I asked, buckling up as I peeked at my gas gauge.

“Sure,” Seth said, his voice sounding tired.

“What’s wrong?” I asked as I turned my key in the ignition.

“Nothing,” Seth replied, buckling up and crossing his arms over his chest.

I frowned at him but he was looking out the window of the car, his eyes on our friends still finishing their goodbyes.

Shrugging to myself I put my car in gear and headed out of the lot, driving towards Seth’s house.

He stayed quiet, texting back and forth quickly with someone as I drove, the silence beginning to bother me. Seth sat stiffly and wouldn’t look at me when stopped at lights and his silence was getting under my skin quickly.

“Seth, seriously, what’s wrong?” I asked as I turned onto his street.

“Nothing,” Seth said, his voice low, his words sharp. As I pull into the driveway of his house I frown as I see Seth’s hand on the door already.

“You sure?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he said. “Thanks for driving Y/N, I’ll see you later,” he said, opening the door and stepping out quickly. Before I could respond the door was shut and he was halfway to his front door.

Frowning I pulled out my phone and sent a text to Roman.

Y/N: Rome, what was bugging Seth tonight? He just took off and said nothing the entire ride home.

Roman: I don’t want to get in the middle of his stuff, you know he doesn’t like people talking about him.

Y/N: Rome, seriously, he was acting weird the entire time from the restaurant until we got home. He even lost to you and Dean tonight which you know he doesn’t let happen easily. But he just didn’t seem to care…

Roman: I tried talking to him about it, I guess he didn’t listen to my advice.

Y/N: What advice?

Roman: Do us all a favor and just go make him talk. It’ll be faster.

Y/N: And how am I supposed to do that?

Roman: You have a key to his place right?

I stared at my key ring and spotted the key to Seth’s house which I had for when he was on the road so I could take care of Kevin and his house.

Y/N: You’re suggesting that in the middle of the night I let myself into Seth’s house and demand he tell me what’s wrong?

Roman: You know him. Confront directly or not at all. He doesn’t play subtle.

Y/N: No, he just runs away…

Roman: Yeah. Which is why you need to go after him and sort it out. Trust me, this is something better talked out between the two of you.

I sighed and turned my car off, putting my keys in my purse and stepping out of the car, closing the door behind myself and heading towards Seth’s front door, keys in hand.

I knocked once and was surprised at the immediate response.

“Y/N, not now, okay?” Seth called through the door. I’d had figured he’d gone upstairs but it sounded like he was sitting on the steps right in front of his door that lead up there.

“No, not okay,” I said, taking my keys and opening the door. I heard Seth curse but I pushed inside quickly, slipping in before he could lock the door.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Checking on you, asshole,” I said, shutting the door behind me. Kevin trotted over and I reached down to pet him before fixing my gaze on Seth.

“Why?” he asked.

“Why? Because we’re best friends, why are you being so short with me?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest.

“It’s nothing, okay?”

“Roman said he tried to talk to you about whatever was bugging you and clearly you didn’t listen to him so what is bugging you? It’s my turn to help.”

Seth let out a low growl of frustration and his eyes fell on me.

“You can’t help fix something if you’re part of the problem,” he said, his voice rough as he walked away from me and into his kitchen.

I felt my jaw drop and I walked after him, not letting him get more than a few steps ahead of me.

“What the hell did I do?” I asked.

“I do not want to talk about this shit right now, not with you, just leave,” Seth said, going to his ridge and grabbing a water bottle. He took a long drink out of it and stood on the other side of the island countertop from me, placing the bottle down in front of him.

“No, you don’t get to say I’m the problem and not tell me what I did. So fucking tell me,” I said, feeling my anger rise. Seth was being childish and it was infuriating.

“It doesn’t matter, it won’t change shit.”

“Tell me and I’ll decide that.”

Seth looked up at me, his hands braced on the counter before him. “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

“Try me,” I said.

Seth took a deep breath before his eyes met mine.

“Baron, huh?”

“What?” I asked.

“I just, didn’t think he was your type,” Seth said.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“It has everything to do with what’s going on,” Seth said, his hands gripping the counter before him, his knuckles turning white.

“Why?”

“Because I was dumb enough to think I had a shot with you and I clearly don’t.”

Silence took over the kitchen as I stared at Seth, trying to process his words. He stared back at me, his body tight with tension.

“What?” I asked, disbelief in my voice.

“I saw you and him tonight and it was driving me crazy. Roman was trying to convince me it wasn’t a big deal, it was just a date, but it was fucking eating me up the whole time. I hated that you went with him to play games and didn’t come with me to cheer me on against Dean and Roman like Renee and Galina had. Then I remembered that you aren’t my wife, not even my girlfriend and that that’s my fault for not saying something sooner but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“What—Seth I don’t understand. What are you saying?” I asked, feeling my hands shaking. I knew what he was implying but I needed to hear him say it. I needed him to confirm it.

“Y/N, how could you not see it?” Seth asked as he walked slowly around the kitchen island to stand in front of me, pinning me between him and the island itself. I kept my mouth shut, afraid to say the wrong thing.

“You’re my best friend,” Seth said, his hand coming up slowly to rest against my cheek.  

“I know, you’re mine too,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“And I’m in love with you,” Seth whispered, his forehead leaning forward against mine.

I took a breath, sharp and quick because I never thought I’d hear those words from him. “I love you too,” I whispered back.

“Yeah?” he said, his voice cracking slightly at the question. I nodded once.

“What about Baron?”

“I said yes because he’s a good guy. I didn’t think I’d ever have this chance, I accepted that I’d never have you.”

“But you always had me.”

“I didn’t know that,” I chided softly. Seth chuckled and our eyes met and I could feel my stomach twisting in knots and my entire body heat up under his gaze.

“I want you to be my girlfriend, Y/N. I want you by my side all the time. I want you with me when we go out, my arm around you and I want everyone to know that you’re mine. I want to spend every day home with you and every day away missing you. Please, just let me be that for you,” Seth said, his breath ghosting over my skin, his lips less than an inch from mine.

“Is that what you really want?” I asked.

He nodded, swallowing thickly before speaking again. “Please, Y/N,” he said.

I nodded once and his lips immediately met mine and I whimpered into the kiss, quickly wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him closer to me, our bodies touching along every inch as he held me between him and the countertop.

As the kiss deepened I could feel my body shaking slightly as adrenaline and desire pumped through me, my breathing becoming more uneven and my core slicking as he pressed against him, his length firm against my body. I gasped at the feeling and he chuckled lightly, his lips leaving mine in favor of my neck.

I shivered against him and he laughed again, his hands sliding down to my hips, his thumbs sliding along my hip bone as my dress rode up slightly as we moved.

“Shit,” Seth breathed as I nipped at his collar bone where his shirt was slightly opened, just enough for me to have access.

“Seth, please,” I said, my voice tight and needy. He smiled at me and his hand slid further down and around, gripping my ass and lifting me onto the countertop, my legs immediately around his hips and pulling him into me, his length pressing against my core, the friction maddening and perfect all at once.

His hands slid up my thighs and under the hem of my dress, one hand sliding along the edge of my panties underneath, the other drawing lazy designs along my skin, making me shiver.

“I’d love to fuck you right here,” Seth whispered, his lips brushing against mine as his fingers slid over the fabric of my panties and he groaned low, feeling the wetness there.

“You can,” I gasped as his fingers continued to trace over me and my skin flushed with need.

“No, I need you in my bed first. This counter can wait until the morning,” he said, lifting me back into his arms. I wanted to complain but he moved quickly, carrying me as if I weighed nothing up to his room. When we were inside he laid me out on his bed and his hand immediately went back to my core, making me whimper.

“Don’t worry baby,” Seth said as he sat up between my legs, untucking his shirt from his pants. “I’ll take care of you.”

I sat up and began undoing the buttons of his shirt as he found the zipper on my dress and tugged it down quickly. Fabric disappeared and before I realized what was happening Seth was kneeling at the foot of the bed, his hand wrapping around my thighs as he dragged me to the edge.

“Seth,” I gasped as his fingers dug under the waist of my panties and tugged them off.

“What?” he said back, looking up at me. “You okay?” he asked, his shoulders raising and falling as he breathed, his eyes on me but I could tell he was fighting the urge to move against me.

“Please, don’t tease me,” I whispered.

He smirked devilishly and slid up the bed to me, his boxers rubbing along my sensitive skin as he did so.

“But that’s the best part,” he whispered against my lips, stealing a hard kiss before sliding away again. My hands tangled in the sheets beneath me as his facial hair scratched along my thighs and his tongue found my core, making me arch off of the bed in surprise. As he licked and kissed along me his hands worked other parts of my body, drawing patterns on my thighs, teasing at my entrance, coming up to caress my chest lightly. I shuddered against him, feeling my orgasm approaching quickly and I gasped out some gibberish, trying to warn him.

Seth, sensing my intention, moved faster, one of his fingers pressing against my entrance cautiously.

“Yes,” I gasped out, giving my permission. He pressed in slowly, stretching me a little before adding a second finger. I groaned as he hooked his fingers, my moans filling the room as my orgasm hit me.

Seth licked at me until I had come down from my high but continued pumping his fingers slowly, continuing to prepare me as he kissed up my body. I grabbed him in a kiss, shivering as he brushed that spot inside me again and he smirked against my lips.

“Please, Seth,” I begged, my hands sliding down his chest and abdomen to his boxers which I pushed off of him quickly before my hand closed around his length carefully, pumping him slowly. His hips jerked at my touch and I smiled against the skin of his neck as he buried his head into the pillow beside me for a moment.

“What’s wrong?” I teased.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, his head coming up and his lips claiming mine as he withdrew his fingers from me and  shifted, repositioning himself at my entrance.

“For the first time, everything is perfect,” he said, his lips at my ear as he pressed into me slowly.

I gasped at the sensation of him stretching me and my nails immediately dug into his shoulders slightly. As he fully settled inside me he stilled, gasping to keep his control as he looked down at me.

“You okay?” he whispered.

I nodded quickly, rolling my hips against his. He groaned again and soon his hips were thrusting against mine as he thrust in and out of me, slow and careful.

He was slow and passionate the entire time, his lips and hands going to everything they could reach, whispering how great it felt inside of me, and begging me to tell him when I was near my limit.

“I want to hear you come undone,” he whispered. “Want to hear you moan my name.”

I whimpered at his words as my second orgasm rushed towards its height and I held him to me as it hit, my hips bucking uncontrollably as I did indeed moan his name, breathless and spent as he wrapped an arm underneath me and thrust a few more times into me before he met his own release as well.

He collapsed next to me moments later and he collected me against him, my head on his chest as he brushed hair off of my face so we could look at each other.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” Seth said, finally.

“Would’ve saved us both a lot of time,” I replied.

He laughed lightly, one hand going to his forehead to rest there for a moment and I could tell he was still dazed from the high of his orgasm.

Rolling onto my side more so I could prop myself up I looked down at Seth whose eyes met mine, a spark of joy in his dark orbs.

“I love you,” he whispered.

I smiled, feeling my heart race. “I love you too.”

[animentality]

angry internet discourses animentality has (voluntarily and involuntarily) started

- i once said college isn’t as tough as they make it seem in high school, got a bunch of engineering/biology/STEM majors in the notes, whining about how easy social sciences and liberal arts are and how it’s pussies like me that are ruining the economy. 

- i said i thought a thirty year old man fucking a fifteen year old boy was gross. which is just totally unacceptable, right? not the fucking, that is, but my criticism of the fucking. 

- i also said fangirls shouldn’t fetishize fourteen/fifteen year old boys just because they’re boys, and had girls telling me that it’s ok when men do it to girls, so why can’t they “reclaim” their sexualities or something...these are fucking 30 year old women fantasizing about old men raping children in churches. but im the one who’s being gross, hmmm. 

-i once said i didn’t think people with mental illnesses should decide what mental illness they had based off a personality test they took on quizilla or what medications they should take at night based off of a list of symptoms they read off webmd. instantly got people saying im ableist and neurotypical because self-diagnosis is good....even though TRAINED PSYCHOLOGISTS FUCK THIS SHIT UP AND THEY STUDY THIS SHIT EXCLUSIVELY so why would a bunch of angsty hormonal teenagers be the experts on what pills they should be taking.

-also my url used to be mental insanime. got called ableist for referring to the word “insanity.” 

- said yuri on ice was a bad anime with a weak plot, sexualized “gay” characters, and had shitty animation, got called homophobic and transphobic. 

-ALSO related to yuri on ice, saw a post where it was suggested that yuri could be asexual...prompting thousands of fangirls to call the asexual girl who’d originally posted it a bitch for trying to “take their gay character away from them.”

because straight women own gay characters. not gay people, straight girls, that’s who gay character are for, right 

anyway, i said shame on all of  you assholes, and got called homophobic again for my troubles. 

-once joked about how bad the english in Knb was, got called racist against asians (I am Asian)

-got called a nazi for liking snk (I’m asian) 

- got called homophobic AND racist for not supporting the victuuri ship from yoi, a show i hate, whose characters i hate... because Victor is white, Yuri is Asian, and I’m Asian, so not supporting an interracial relationships makes me both homophobic, racist, and also transphobic because why not. 

- I said that officialhajimeisayama wasn’t the real hajimeisayama and got called a racist because my evidence was that the blog was in english...presumably it’s racist to imply japanese people can’t learn english...despite the fact that i said it was because the blog was written in very casual, american english that referred to memes and was written stylistically in a very meme-friendly teenage girl way.

- i then got blocked by officialhajimeisayama because i said in my tags that i couldnt believe people were dumb enough to believe she was really isayama (cuz a grown man would want to be called isamama? really?). 

she then said “how dare you hurt my followers like that” and then blocked me...and then deleted the post when she realized we are roughly the same in terms of follower count....whoops. 

always remember to pick fights with people who’re weaker than you, children. 

- a blogger named korracrat followed me some time ago and i followed her back, but then didn’t want to see her content anymore. i unfollowed her, and she IMMEDIATELY noticed and started badgering me about why i had unfollowed her. i was forced to lie and say it was an accident.

i did it again much later, only for the same thing to happen. 

then when i finally decided to cut the knot, i wrote a post about how i just wanted to be done with this person. 

she then sent herself anon hate, and swore that it was from me because she has some kind of tracker. 

yeah. 

someone literally sent herself anon hate, then claimed it was from me to make herself look like a poor innocent victim....

and i mean, im an asshole, but i don’t send anon hate. i like to fucking square up. 

- called donald trump a liar, got trump supporters reaaaaal mad. came to my blog to call me a libtard, a faggot, and someone who hates america

-talked about how i liked bernie sanders and got called a communist and a libtard 

-oh, i said that the ghostbusters remake wasn’t so bad and that people should give it a chance, got called a libtard, an idiot, and someone made reddit posts about me or something. 

-said that it’s sad that erwin (from snk) died, but can we talk about how (insert rant about armin). got angry erwin fans saying i was trying to detract from his death. 

- also was confused as to why junkrat has a summer skin in the winter, completely forgetting how hot it is in Australia during the winter...got accused of being...hemispherist? because someone who wrote a half-assed joke about junkrat’s summer skin forgot that it’s warm in australia all the time, im north america centric, ok. 

- said that trump is a liar again. got someone telling me everyone’s equal, im retarded for not taking advantage of my opportunities, and that he felt sad for me because im a dumb retard who doesn’t understand politics. k. 

- got told to kill myself for quite a few of the above. then argued over why you shouldn’t tell people to kill themselves.

and then got told that this is....policing. 

- said that the argument that “incest/rape/abuse is fine because it’s fictional!” is dumb because in the same breath, ya’lll will say representation matters.... when clearly fiction cannot matter for both arguments to be true. got called a bitch. 

- said tokyo ghoul was sexist, transphobic garbage, got TG fans upset because the idea that their manga is anything less than the sequel to the Christian Bible is akin to literary heresy. 

- said anime is sexist garbage, got people upset because im supposed to be an anime blog and talk about how hot husbandos are or whatever. 

- recently said that you shouldn’t ship tracer (lesbian character) with men, got told i was a retard who was trying to police people’s creativity or something...ironically, they’ve run amok on that post, but i have no interest in stopping them cuz guess what?

i don’t care anymore, why would i care about policing you? 

what purpose would that have?

you’re going to do it anyway, and i don’t have the time or heart to spare for you. 

policing doesn’t equal me saying, “lol you’re garbage.” 

I’m not stopping you. I’m not even trying to stop you.

I’m just expressing my general disappointment in you as a person.

A long time ago, I was very involved in trying to convince people that they should change their ways. 

But I’ve given up on this, and why?

Because this species is incorrigible. 

And it doesn’t matter, because we are well beyond the brink of salvation.

And it’s fine, it’s all fine.

But a man’s gotta complain, a man’s gotta bitch to get it out of his system, to make his life bearable, because he’s logical, because he’s got a natural talent for reasoning and maybe he’s a little compassionate too, so how can he cope with an irrational, amoral world?

by whining on his blog.

the fact that you are here is irrelevant.

you can stay or go. 

it doesn’t matter to me, at this point. 

i’ve reached transcendence, i have realized that i decide what you’re worth, in my world. 

that post can stay angry. 

you can argue until you’re blue in the face about how badly you wanna fuck tracer. 

if that’s how you cope with your inner loneliness and your desperate fear of the human condition, then fine by me, bb. 

we’re all dying, and i understand it better than you. 

and that’s fine. there’s no sin in being dumber than me. 

but the end statement, i mean, i don’t know why i ever bothered.

i was a dumb kid, i thought it mattered.

i was raised thinking i could help people. 

but damn, man, there’s no helping any of you.

and come on, we all have to admit it!

some of you aren’t worth helping. 

[danfanciesphil]

A jealous Dan prompt? Not mean or angsty just like idk sometimes Dan gets jealous?

Jealous!Dan is literally my weakness ily

Got a prompt for me? Hit up my ask box! (Please be aware that due to an abundance of prompts, your prompt may take a few days to complete - but thank you all for submitting so far!)

Phil is an attractive person. 

Dan is acutely aware of this, and has been ever since he first saw an AmazingPhil video on YouTube. Whilst he’s not the most hair-raising, breathtaking beauty on the planet, there is no denying his good fortune in the looks department. Icy blue eyes, pale skin, jet black hair. It’s like the stuff of fairytales - and Phil pulls it off well.

More than this though, Phil’s attractiveness comes through in the way he is. In the way he acts, speaks, talks, and even thinks about things. 

Sure, you might check him out briefly on the street and note his good looks, but it’s when you actually engage him in conversation, or spend time with him doing almost any activity, that you begin to realise just how fortunate you are to be in his presence at all. 

He’s witty, and clever. He’s got a vast plethora of knowledge tucked away, but he’s modest about it, and tends to surprise people by peppering facts or proper, well-structured, carefully formed opinions into conversation. 

He’s a kind, gentle soul, but he’s ambitious and fiercely loyal of his friends, never afraid to stand up for those in the wrong, or for what he believes in. 

These aspects of Phil’s personality are things that Dan has grown to love. He discovers new parts of his boyfriend every day, and is regularly astounded by how truly magnificent he is as a person; it’s rather baffling, really, that he chooses to be with Dan, who is significantly younger, and far less well-rounded.

But putting Phil’s love-blindness aside, Dan is proud of himself for recognising the superior qualities of Phil Lester, especially as many people tend to overlook them. 

It’s when they don’t overlook them that things get a little... trickier. 

For instance, right now, they’re at a party. It’s New Year’s Eve, and some of Phil’s old friends from university (he has so many that Dan can barely keep track, let alone name the person whose flat he’s currently in) are having a party. 

Dan likes Phil’s old friends a lot, of course. But at the same time, he can’t help but envy them, for having so much time with Phil before Dan even knew he existed. 

They share memories that Dan will never be a part of. They know him so well, and Dan is trying to match their level of Phil-knowledge, but it’s a slow, painful process. It takes time to build a friendship that will rival theirs, Dan knows. 

Also, Dan has no way of knowing what their relationship to Phil was in the past. 

When Dan says that Phil has a lot of friends, he is not exaggerating, and they come in all genders. Not that Phil is particularly fussed about such things, Dan supposes, but he has noticed that girls in particular make beelines towards him when he enters these parties. 

Right now, for instance, Phil is deep in conversation with three girls, all of whom have introduced themselves to Dan and seem like perfectly friendly, fun people. 

Unfortunately, Dan has a condition that renders him unable to take their personalities into account, and it only worsens when he’s drunk.

Jealousy. 

The expression goes that it’s an ugly emotion, and Dan can’t think of a better way in which to describe it. It’s awful, and all-consuming, making him feel like a horrible monster of a person, but Dan simply cannot suppress it. 

He’s been sticking to Phil’s side since they got here, practically glued to him as he wanders around talking to everyone. He’s also being almost creepily quiet, just watching the conversations unfolding around him, eyeing everyone with suspicion, answering direct questions monosyllabically. 

“... I could swear you’ve gotten taller!” One girl says to Phil, laughing like it’s hilarious. Dan narrows his eyes at her, trying not to scowl. He takes another swig of Malibu straight from the bottle to distract himself - it doesn’t work. “How is that possible? You make me look like a child when you stand next to me.”

As if to demonstrate, the girl - Dan thinks her name is Jessica - presses herself against Phil’s side, wobbling a little on tipsy legs. Her halterneck dress leaves a lot of skin on show around her shoulders and back, and she isn’t shy about pressing it against Phil’s arm. 

“Cara, how bad is it?” Maybe-Jessica asks another girl standing in their huddle. 

Cara laughs, framing them with her hands as though trying to snap a mental photo. “Not gonna lie, he’s at least a foot taller.”

Jessica throws her head back, laughing more. She hits Phil playfully on the arm, and Dan only just manages to stop himself tackling her to the floor for it. 

“Phi-il, stop making me look bad! I’m in heels for God’s sake!”

Phil chuckles, a little pink-cheeked. “Sorry. Must be all that standing in soil I’ve been doing since I last saw you.”

Apparently, this is the funniest joke in the world, because Cara and Jessica are practically in tears with laughter. Jessica is hanging off Phil’s arm now, and Dan can actually feel the blood in his veins beginning to simmer. He wants to grab hold of Jessica’s halterneck tie and yank her backwards, possibly towards the nearest open window. 

He can’t stand feeling like this. His hand twitches by his side. He must be glaring now, but nobody seems to notice. He sips some more Malibu.

All of a sudden, Jessica ‘trips’, seemingly on the air itself, falling forwards a bit, just in time for Phil to catch her. His arms steady on her waist, and she giggles, one hand over her mouth, staring up at him through her fake lashes. 

“Whoops!” She says, a little more softly now. “One too many squadka’s, I think.” She pauses, and Phil laughs awkwardly, trying to draw his hands away. Dan catches his eye, and Phil reddens, attempting to free himself from inside Jessica’s personal bubble. Her hands grab his wrists, holding them in place, and she smiles at him, flirtatious. “Being so tall and strong has its benefits, I suppose.”

She bites her lip, and that is the moment Dan snaps. His teeth grind together, and he pushes Cara to one side, rather rudely, forcing himself between Phil and Jessica without apology. He finds Phil’s hand and grips it, hard, then turns to Jessica, eyes ablaze. 

“He’s mine.” 

It’s all he needs to say, apparently. Jessica totters backwards, her mouth open in a little ‘o’. Dan doesn’t care, he needs to do something about the viscous, burning heat racing through his whole body. He drags Phil across the room, past groups of bewildered looking twenty-somethings, and over to the wall. 

There’s a small spot between the TV and the radiator, and Dan pulls Phil down into it, their backs to the walls. He places his hand on Phil’s thigh, a little overly possessive perhaps, but necessary. Phil is saying something, apparently rather perplexed by what’s happening, but Dan is barely listening. 

He drinks another gulp of Malibu, then places the bottle to one side.

“...it’s just you haven’t really said anything all night, and now you go and basically attack Jess for just-”

Dan swings his leg over Phil’s, climbing onto his lap with practised efficiency. He pushes his lips into Phil’s shutting him up at once. He kisses hard, being rough and messy because he kind of wants it to hurt a bit. He wants Phil to realise how furious this has made him, and to respond in kind, to reassure Dan that there’s nothing to be worried about. 

Phil doesn’t respond much at first, but Dan is expecting this. They haven’t told anyone at this party they’re together. Phil has been introducing Dan as ‘his friend’. It’s not for any particular reason, they’re just being careful. They don’t want to share something so personal with just anyone, and one can never be too sure of the reaction when it’s a queer relationship. 

Then, after a while, once the shock of it has passed, Phil’s hands find Dan’s waist - his strong, sure hands, no longer gripping that bitchy girl’s sides - and he tugs Dan closer, kissing back just as hard. 

Dan bites at his lips, all teeth and tongue as he attacks Phil’s mouth, hoping everyone is watching, and everyone can see just how little Phil belongs to any of them anymore. 

“You’re mine,” Dan growls against him, pushing his hips down into Phil’s crotch, wanting to hammer the point home. “No one else gets to touch you.”

Breathless, with glazed eyes, Phil nods at him, diving back in for another kiss. 

“It’s okay,” Phil tells him, tilting his head willingly as Dan mouths along his jaw, scraping his teeth down his neck. “I’m- ah! I’m yours.” 

Dan nods in agreement, then bites, hard, sucking a bruise into Phil’s throat. He wants it to be a deep crimson, big and sprawling over Phil’s pretty pale throat. He wants it to darken over time, impossible to ignore as it purples and deepens, making people blush as they realise what it is. 

Phil just lets him do it, for some reason. 

Normally, they don’t allow love bites. Filming videos would be a nightmare, for a start, plus they take too long to disappear. 

But Phil is passive now, just breathing heavily, his hands gripping Dan’s waist as Dan sucks on the skin. Finally, he leans away, satisfied with his work. 

“Now they’ll know for sure.” Dan says, surveying his artwork with pleasure. He wants to leave another, almost immediately, to cover Phil in them all over his body. Maybe later, when they’re alone. He hums to himself in contentment, liking the idea immensely. “Mine.” 

People are staring; Dan can feel their eyes. He doesn’t give a fuck, let them. Let everyone see how he has Phil cornered here, and how he doesn’t want to leave. Let the whole damn world realise that Phil is his, and that any attempt to sway him in a different direction will not end well. 

Dan knows he’ll feel less crazy in the morning. The jealousy will have faded somewhat, though it will sit, as ever, simmering just beneath his skin, ready to leap out and turn him into a possessive monster once more. 

For now, though, Dan is not letting Phil out of his sight. Midnight is hours away, but Dan isn’t sure he can wait that long. Phil looks pretty elated too, his pupils blown, and eyes trained on Dan’s face. Perhaps they could skip the rest of this reunion. 

Home is just a taxi ride away, after all. 

(Based off these photos)

[eddiekasp]

Must Be a Better Word- Ch11

Love. There must be A better word. -Adam Gillon My loves @stanleyuriis and @eddiesbadbreak helped me come up with some HCs about Richie and his home life so... its about to get angsty :^) Also on ao3! 

Eddie sat in his bed, his two blankets covering his legs up to his belly button and his back leaning on the headboard. The adjustable lamp that sat on the nightstand on the right side of his bed illuminated a small circle of his white sheets, set to the lowest brightness as he told his mother he would be going to sleep nearly 40 minutes ago already. He felt warm; the room was shadowy and dark save for the small golden ring coming from the side. He was wearing to sleep a shirt that was far too long to be his own-- a shirt Richie had left at his house accidentally four days prior.

On his lap on top of the blanket sat the notebook Eddie had found in Richie’s closet, abandoned and nearly lost forever. Eddie felt like it had to have been more than a coincidence that he asked to clean Richie’s room that day. If he hadn’t, he wouldn’t have the notebook. Richie even let him keep it, happy to see how happy it made Eddie. Eddie just felt lucky.

He had read it so many times through now that he was convinced he could recite it. Eddie had gotten pretty good at memorizing lines of text. Richie starred in many roles in school productions (just last month he played Lumiere in Beauty and the Beast; Beverly did costumes and makeup and Eddie came every night of the show. Richie had pressed the flowers Eddie brought him into a book) and it was always Eddie’s job to help him practice his lines. They’d sit on Richie’s floor, Eddie reading the lines monotonously, making Richie laugh, while Richie reenacted the scene in front of him, gesturing extravagantly and pretending to hit himself on the head with a frying pan like in a cartoon (sounds effects included) when he forgot a line.

Now, the lines in front of him would not be able to bring forth any feeling of monotony. A lot of the pages, some about him and others which were Richie’s writing or doodles, made Eddie wanna spin around in his room or jump up and down or something silly like that, but instead he held the back of his hand up to his mouth, concealing the smile that bloomed on his face from himself.

Others, though, really… worried Eddie. He thought about asking Richie about them-- jokes about his mother and her problem with drinking, or how his father knows anything about him or WANTS to, how he feels like his family totally doesn't give a shit about him-- 8 or so pages like these written as rants or masquerading as funny jokes. But he didn’t know if it was his place. Although Richie had given him the book, Eddie wondered if he remembered those entries were written amongst the many pages of lighter fare. Plus, this was years ago… did Richie still feel this way?

He figured he must have, since Richie had Eddie over at all hours of the night and his parents said nothing. Not to mention the fact that Richie almost never brought up his parents, and if he did it was only to Eddie in a very quick and biting comment. And he knew Richie didn’t drink.

But then he began wondering, and this wondering didn’t stop until he did something about it. If Richie feels ignored and not cared about, Eddie had to do something about it. The thought of him ever feeling that way made warm tears prick in the corner of his eyes if he thought about it for too long.

So Eddie pulled the covers off of his bed, duelly reminded of how much he wanted to talk to his boyfriend after getting a small remembrance of his cologne that stuck like old stickers onto the shirt he was wearing. His heart felt warm, how it felt when he hugged Richie, and he tiptoed quietly into the hallway where the phone was.

The floor under him felt cold on his adjusting toes. He cursed (as he had at least 5 times a week) that his mother did not trust him enough to put a phone in his room. He had mastered the art of closing his door lightly as not to alarm his mother of him running away, and thanked fuck that their old curly-wired home phone in the upstairs hallway had retired from use two years ago, forcing her to get a cordless home phone. He’d sneak into the hallway quickly, the pads of his small feet barely hitting the floor beneath him, snatch the phone up and run back to his room.

He would talk to Richie with his window open, leaning out in that direction because that was the most likely way his mother wouldn’t hear him. Now, though, it was past midnight on the first week of March. Eddie already had Richie’s gift wrapped and hidden in his clothing drawer. Eddie loved March, loved how happy Richie got when they’d surprise him with cake and gifts on his birthday, loved how cold it was besides the 4 layers of shirts his mother made him wear, but now he worried he’d catch a cold leaning out the window in nothing but a thin t-shirt and his underwear.

Eddie bounced slightly up and down, convincing himself he was creating some body heat, and hoped that he wouldn’t be waking Richie up from sleeping. It was a school night, and he supposed the conversation could wait until third period when Richie had class and he didn’t and they could sit in the empty auditorium and do whatever. But Eddie felt like he had to talk to him now.

On school nights, Richie was usually doing one of two things: sleeping, as he had been the second he walked into the house and taken his red converse off, or saving sleep for that beautiful three-hour period between 4 and 7 am so he could finish up procrastinated homework and could be found at 12:43 at his window as Eddie was now, maybe smoking a cigarette or maybe just feeling the cool air on his warm cheeks.

Although Eddie hated when Richie didn’t get enough sleep, he’d feel even worse if he would be interrupting him if he’d already passed out. Richie and Eddie talked on the phone late at night at least every other night, but it was almost always planned and usually not this late. It was rare for Eddie to stay up past 11.

He typed the memorized number onto the plastic-y buttons of the handset, the familiar song of the buttons in that exact order echoing in his ears as he put the receiver to them. After two rings, not Richie’s voice but his father's.

“Who’s calling this late?” a deeper voice said, not angry but definitely stern.

“O-oh, hi Mr. Tozier. It’s Eddie… Richie’s friend. I’m sorry for calling so late it’s just-- is Richie asleep?”

“Not sure.” Went pulled the phone away from his face and Eddie heard a vague calling of “Richard! Pick up the phone,” and then a click as he exited the only conversation he had ever had or probably would have with Eddie Kaspbrak.

Eddie heard a breath flow into the speaker of his phone before hearing the familiar, “Hey, Eds!” Eddie could tell he was wide awake, he just noted that his father hadn’t bothered to say it was too late to be talking on the phone. “Why ya calling so late? Did you miss meeeeee?” Richie said gleefully, making kissy noises into the phone.

Eddie felt any stiffness in his back that kept him sitting up straight start to melt as it always did when Richie talked to him. He could just relax.

“Of course not, you nerd. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Isn’t that kinda like the same thing?” Eddie could hear Richie’s upturned smile weaving its way into his words through the phone. Eddie could always hear Richie’s smile just as much as he could see it. It made him smile, too.

Eddie laughed at his question. “It might be.”

Richie laughed too. “Well, you know I always mish you when we’re apart, shweetheart.” His Humphrey Bogart impression had gotten a bit better since he was 12; his voice getting deeper helped a bit. “I really did though! In fact, you should come over. I don’t feel like doing homework anyways.”

“Rich, we have school tomorrow,” Eddie sighed into the phone. Honestly, he wish he could have gone over.

“Yeah, but so what? We can sleep in through first period, and you know I can forge a pretty good late pass.”

“If my mom sees that I’m gone on a school night she’ll really think I ran away this time. She’s already flipping out on me that I’m never home anymore.” Eddie contemplated how he felt on what was happening between him and his mother. “I mean, of course it’s probably better for me this way. I feel bad for hurting her though, yknow?”

“I get it, but you know she’s the worst Eddie. Like, honestly you shouldn’t have to feel bad. The only thing you should be worried about in regards to her is making sure she takes her Plan B after I leave in the morning.” Richie whooped into the phone and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Very funny, dumb ass.”

“But I’m being serious. She treats you like shit and she’s a huge bitch to you. I know I shouldn’t say that about my future mother-in-law, but you of all people should know she’s… kinda the worst, dude. Honestly, I don’t think you’re obligated to treat her well at all. She makes you feel bad, which means she’s a bad person. So don’t feel guilty.”

Eddie felt that same hot redness flush across his skin. “Mother-in-law?” he chimed, passing in a sly comment to cover up his heart beating in his throat. He smiled. “What makes you think I’d marry you, huh?”

“If you said no to a proposal from the Richie Tozier, you’d be the biggest idiot alive.”

“I guess it takes one to know one.”

They laughed at the same time, Richie unabashedly booming through his room while Eddie had to remind himself what time it was and cover his giggles into the palm of his hand. There was a silence, comfortable and warm, broken by a cough coming from Richie.

“Are you smoking out your window right now?” Eddie said, picturing the boy leaning his elbow on the window sill, phone trapped between his ear and shoulder as he flicked ashes onto the grass below his window. A position his brain had memorized.

“You know me so well! Yeah, I… I’m actually on my second pack in the last two days,” Richie said guiltily. He knew Eddie didn’t mind him smoking, (as long as it wasn’t near him; it sometimes made his asthma bad) he just worried it'd hurt Richie's lungs. Eddie knew how much it sucked to have problems breathing. Eddie had actually been doing a decent job on persuading him to try and smoke only 1 cigarette a day and Richie even found himself skipping days altogether when he had been feeling really happy. Eddie wondered what had happened.

“Is… something wrong, Richie?” Eddie furrowed his brows, starting to worry.

“Well, uh.” Richie paused, taking in another breath and clearing his throat. Unknown to Eddie, Richie had put his cigarette out and took the back of that hand to wipe his eyes quickly. He didn’t continue speaking.

“Richie, is it… your parents?” Eddie’s heart sped up, but for the wrong reasons.

Richie nodded his head before remembering Eddie couldn’t see him. “Uh, sorta. Yeah.”

Eddie checked the clock again. Almost 1. Richie had been right, though. Why should Eddie give a shit what his mom thinks?

“Do you think I’d get murdered if I took my bike to your place?” Sonia’s window was overlooking where Eddie’s car was normally parked. She’d see the lights for sure, and wake up in a panic.

“I can come with my car. I'll stay at the stop sign down the street.”

“Okay, I’ll see you soon then. Get here safe.”

“I will... Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

[spiceukonline]

Georgia Meets "Dark Pop" Duo City Conga

THE first thing I notice about City Conga before the interview has even started is how accommodating they are.

A few days before the interview is due to take place, I confess to one-half of the music duo that as hard as I may try, I am not a London girl and cannot think of a “cool” enough interview location. Taking pity on my country ways, they email me a location and we sit down to chat in The Troubadour in Earls Court, which is possibly the most indie bar I’ve ever stepped foot in.

In typical “me” fashion, I walk straight past them to the other end of the bar, looking hopelessly lost, until one of them taps me on the shoulder. This is 22-year-old James-Eden Hutchinson, who I will come to learn likes to refer to himself in the third person. He’s dressed like an advert for Urban Outfitters, and I will spend the whole interview trying to match up his aesthetic against his well-spoken demeanour.

He embraces me and tells me it’s “lovely” to see me again, and introduces himself to my photographer, before pointing over to where his other half, 23-year-old Dan Choppen, is sitting. Dan does not get up when we approach him and watches us cautiously, and I instantly notice he appears a lot more reserved than James, who seems eager to please. Dan’s aesthetic is what I call “effortless,” dressed in a simple T-shirt featuring a scene from a movie I am nowhere near cool enough to have seen.

By this point, I’m confused about a lot of things. I’m confused about how these two found each other, confused about what genre of music they belong to and furthermore, still confused about how to operate the Circle and District line.

Firstly though, I want to address where in the world they got the name “City Conga,” and whether they are aware it has the potential to sound like the next dance craze or a strip club in Soho.

James (left) and Dan (right).

Dan admits that they went through a lot of potential names, but the penny finally dropped for him after spending a weekend back home. ‘I thought about the massive contradiction between the city, the business people doing the 9-5 type thing, and students like us stressing about not having a job after uni,’ says Dan, ‘and then I just got this image of all the business boys in like a conga dancing to work. I came back and said to James and he was like “that sounds cool.”’

Cool indeed, and that’s the vibe they seem so keen to give off, so much so that I feel artsier just breathing the same air as them.

James and Dan met when they were both students at The University of Westminster, studying mixed media arts. I nod when they mention this last part, even though I have no idea what such a degree entails. Initially working on their own “soundscapes,” they eventually “jumped in” on each other’s solo work and began writing together. Not only are they now one another’s bandmate, but they also live together and are best friends.  How do they work together when they’re always in each other’s space?

Dan explains the creative collaboration process in possibly one of the best-worst analogy I’ve ever heard. ‘It’s kind of like that game you played as a kid called “hot potato,”’ he says, (it should be noted that I never played this game as a child), ‘I’ll have the potato and then I’ll chuck it on to James, and then he’ll add something and then I’ll add something and then the potato is perfectly cooked at the end.’

They admit that their “sound” is difficult to describe, and having seen them perform live, I would also agree. Experimental, angsty and synth heavy, their vibe is reminiscent of The 1975 or The Neighbourhood, without the poppy overtones and the floppy-haired poster boy. I recall being at a recent gig of theirs not being sure whether to sway thoughtfully, whoop like a teenage girl or start forming a mosh pit.

So how would they describe their sound to someone who was approaching it for the first time?

They look at each other as if they’re sharing some kind of inside joke that I’m not allowed to be privy to.

‘We’ve come up with a one liner,’ says Dan finally.

After a prolonged and slightly awkward hesitation, James pipes up: ‘I want to say Dark Renaissance.’

‘Dark Renaissance?’ I repeat uneasily, which perhaps gives the impression that I’m challenging his creative authority because in a moment of insecurity he backpedals and says “I’m not quite sure that fits.

Dan tries to save James from the hole he has dug himself, but that doesn’t go to plan either. “We say dark pop duo because influences range from…it’s weird really because one minute we’re listening to the Clash and the next minute we’re listening to Biggie.”

Biggie? I didn’t see that one coming.

“Yeah, I guess I’m slightly more hip-hop, broken beat more like actually DJing and producing music,” says James.

Who would be their dream collaboration?

‘I mean Kanye West would be class,’ James declares. I didn’t see that one coming either.

‘I just find him so intriguing and interesting,’ he elaborates, ‘and even if you try not to like him, I think his ability to instigate and play around with his image and music and everything that he’s pioneered is just very, very interesting. I’d just love to see how his brain works.’

“Dark pop” aside, they seem to be quite positive individuals. There is a sense of charming awkwardness about Dan and a sense that he would happily give you his undivided attention for hours on end. James is careful with his words and avoids eye contact, so much so that multiple times I wasn’t sure if he was talking to himself or not.

But they are fun and interesting, and to all intents and purposes, just like us regular young folk. They enjoy nights out (Peckham’s infamous “Soultrain” is a joint favourite night of theirs), are partial to a bit of laddish debauchery and despite seeming to have it all figured out, come across as being a bit lost post-graduation.

  “Having a diverse range of musical influences is really important. There’s so much stuff out there now.”

  Listening to the one song available on their Soundcloud called “Family Feud,” I’m surprised such dark lyrics could’ve been created inside the minds of the two charismatic lads in front of me. Are their lyrics always so dark and damning?

Dan laughs, aware that they’re never going to be asked to debut on a Disney soundtrack anytime soon. ‘I think our lyrics do often take quite dark turns, maybe because of our course. The lecturers were always like “you’re never going to be able to buy your own house,” “you’re always going to be struggling for money,” “you’re going to die alone,” and we’re like “fucking hell.” And then as the course developed, we realised that there’s a lot of shit wrong with the media industry, and I think that’s where a lot of dystopian or apocalyptic blues all stems from.’

The mood shifts and I suddenly want to order an entire bottle of wine to myself. ‘I mean, “Family Feud” is probably the most depressing song we’ve got,’ Dan clarifies.

What’s so wrong with the media industry then, I ask, aware that the answer is most likely “everything.” 

‘Fake news’ says Dan, and I subconsciously clutch my notebook tighter to my chest, aware that as a journalist, I’m the creative industry’s public enemy #1.

‘The thing that really winds me up, I see it on my Facebook all the time, is that people believe anything they’re given. People say “oh my God, so-and-so did this,” but I’m like yeah but where did that come from? Billybob’snews.org.biz.za or something saying shit and everyone’s like “oh, it must be real.”’

This is the most animated I’ve seen Dan thus far, and I’m slightly taken aback but also want to hear more of what he has to say about the very industry he’s trying to break into.

James fails to outdo Dan on this one, telling me that we’ve “slightly been sold a lie” by the media, and I think reading too much George Orwell can sometimes be a bad thing in situations such as these.

Despite their differences in just about everything, it is that difference, at its very core, that seems to make City Conga what it is and has acted as a help, rather than a hindrance to their collective project.

‘I’d never think to do some of the stuff [Dan] says,’ James confesses, ‘but then [he] does it and I’m like “wow, I was wrong, that was quite good!” And same with me, I’ll be like what about some bongos here and he’s like “really?” and then we do it. Diversity is important, there’s so much stuff out there now.’

They both seem to realise that they have chosen an ever-saturated market to break into. Are they worried that they’ll never “make it?”

James disappears off into his own world again and seems hopeful. ‘ I guess sometimes it’s a challenge to make any noise at all because so many people are doing it,’ he ponders, ‘it’s wicked now that with like £20 you can buy a little sim thing and you can write an album on it and upload it and two million people can hear it. But I guess sometimes it’s like, you wonder…’

Dan finishes his sentence as it becomes clear James is about to venture off into his own personal monologue. ‘How are we going to get ourselves heard?’

On Saturday night, where they play a live set at The Water Rats in King’s Cross, they appear to answer their own question. Playing to a larger audience and their sound significantly more fine-tuned than the last time I saw them, they seem to be actually enjoying themselves this time, even if James’s interpretation of dancing was a bit dodgy, but 10/10 for comedic value.

Dan clocks me after the gig and admires my “dedication” since I have to make it back home to Kent from here. I joke about being eligible for a free T-shirt, and he says I’m like their “no. 1 fan,” by which he means to say “crazed groupie.” I’m not sure whether now is the appropriate time to tell him that my attendance was a personal challenge to see how much I would need to drink to approach edgy indie boys who play the guitar. I wouldn’t say no to a free T-shirt, though.

Nonetheless, with promises of “plenty” more music and a lit music video to come, the conga line is only just getting started.

 City Conga’s EP “For Our Friends” is available on Soundcloud and Spotify 

You can also stay updated on all things City Conga via their Facebook, Instagram and YouTube (yay, new fans) 

WORDS by Georgia Chambers (@Just_GeorgiaSD)

PHOTOS by Robert Bruce (@RobBruceK)