#yes its friday the 13th here so i get the pass

[muwitch]

Happy Alchemax 10-13-70, everyone

[inoreuct]

Since it’s spooky season, may I request a demon Sanji offering Zoro some food?

i was supposed to post this for friday the 13th, but it got way more dramatic than i planned… thank you for the ask!

Y’know, when Sanji became a demon, he hadn’t expected to have to deal with moss infestations. 

He is aware that that sounds rather ridiculous and makes little to no sense. The long and short of it is, he got himself cursed. Dumb, yes, he’s aware of that too, but how was he supposed to have known that the rare herb garden he’d stepped into was guarded by a territorial (and rather unhinged, in his humble opinion) occultist?

But as far as curses go, this one really isn’t so bad. Sanji had just sort of… accepted it, after a while, and it certainly hadn’t hurt that the whole becoming a demon gig came with its own massive underworld castle filled with invisible servants. He shudders, peering into a mirror and brushing an invisible speck of dust from his horns. He could have been turned into a goat, or something. How the hell would he cook if he was a goat?

Back to the topic at hand, he has a visitor. A human, of all things! Wandering about the underworld! Sanji’s scrying bowl had offered him a view of short green hair and three swords hanging from a belt, and honestly? He doesn’t know what to make of it, and now the man is hovering in his entryway, poking at a 6th century vase that Sanji is fairly sure holds some Roman emperor’s dead body. He checks his reflection one last time, sucking at his teeth before he phases into shadow, hovering just outside the edges of the foyer. The flames of the candelabra flicker in an invisible wind and the man whip his head around, looking for a threat that isn’t there— 

And Sanji coalesces right behind him. “Hello, little huma— Ack!” A sword swings for his neck in the space of a breath and he leans back on instinct, not putting much effort into it—

The tip nicks his throat and draws blood.

Sanji’s eyes go wide. Oh, this just got interesting.

Regular blades can’t hurt him. Can’t even touch him; they pass right through his form like he’s made of liquid shadow, but he feels this cut. The faint sting, the hot trickle over his tendons, the smell of his own blood thick in the air. He hadn’t even heard the sword unsheathe.

The man is backing away, eyes wild; Sanji huffs a laugh and melts into the shadow again, reappearing just in time for the man to bump into him with a loud swear. Sanji needs to stop calling him The Man. “What’s your name?”

The Man scowls as he holds his sword ready, and it pulls at the vertical scar over his left eye. “Like hell I’ll tell you. I’m not gonna let you use me for whatever— witchy shit you wanna do.”

Sanji raises an unimpressed brow. “First of all, I’m a demon, not a witch. And second, it doesn’t work like that. You need my name for spells and such.” 

“Which is?”

“Now why would I tell you?” He grins, sharp and sweet like the song of a blade through the air. “You’ll know mine when I know yours, Marimo.”

“Marimo?” his visitor scoffs, and Sanji shrugs with a genial smile even as Marimo bristles. Better than The Man. 

He turns around, gliding through the foyer more for the sake of having something to do than actually trying to go anywhere, and of course Marimo follows. “Don’t you have anywhere else to be?” he sighs, side-eyeing the man as he squints warily at a bust of some sort of cat with seven eyes. 

“Nope.”

“What’s the deal, then? A human all the way down here? Hell isn’t exactly the most popular vacation spot, y’know.” Sanji pauses and gives a pointed look to the weapon that had drawn his blood. “And that is not a normal sword.” 

Marimo’s eyebrows twitch, the only sign Sanji gets that he’s surprised. “Cursed blade,” the man grumbles, rubbing a thumb over the hilt. “And I’m looking for someone.”

“…In Hell.” Sanji’s skeptical.

“My best friend got himself kicked through a portal, alright?” Marimo protests, lip curling in irritation. 

“Ha! Good luck with that,” Sanji huffs, walking again. “Nobody new’s been down here except—” Wait. He spins on his heel, and Marimo narrows his eyes suspiciously. “Dark hair, chatty as anything, about… yea high?” he asks, lifting his hand as an estimate, and he lurches back when Marimo leans all up in his face with his eyes like sharp granite.

“You know something.”

“One of my… acquaintances said something about it, yes.” Mihawk had mentioned a guy suddenly popping up. Monkey something-or-other. Loofah? He opens his mouth to speak right as he hears an odd growl, and Marimo pulls back with the tips of his ears turning red. A huff of a laugh slips out without Sanji’s permission. “Alright, come on,” he decides, creating a shadow door and waiting for the other man to follow. “Can’t find your friend on an empty stomach.” 

They walk straight into the kitchen, and Sanji gets to work whipping up a plate of omurice. He was a chef before, and he still is one; he’ll feed anyone who’s hungry. He might not be human or alive (or is he? He still isn’t sure) anymore but he refuses to let go of the values that he’d lived and breathed by, no matter how… questionable his unexpected guest may be.

He is done in a matter of minutes. “Eat.” The plate scrapes as he slides it across the countertop with cutlery, but Marimo just glares. “What? Don’t like eggs?”

“Isn’t there some rule about getting trapped here if you eat?” 

Sanji resists the urge to roll his eyes, because Hell’s bells, this man is stubborn. “Look, that’s all bullshit, alright? Eat, or I’ll make you. This is the only place around for leagues that has food you could possibly digest. Or would you rather go hunt for elephant scorpions?”

The man recoils. “The fuck are those?”

“You don’t wanna know.” He nudges the fork and spoon closer, crossing his arms with an expectant eyebrow.

Marimo raises one right back, but he hesitantly picks up the cutlery and digs in. “…So you eat human food,” he mutters after a while, and Sanji looks up from where he’s washing the dishes.

“Yes? Why wouldn’t I?”

“Dunno,” the other man muses, taking another bite. The dim light of the wall sconces makes his three golden earrings gleam, highlighting the gnarly scar across his chest. “What with the whole demon thing.”

“Not all of us have a taste for mortal flesh,” Sanji sniffs, examining his cuticles coolly before getting back to scrubbing. 

He’s feeling a little strange. Maybe it’s the human interaction after so long of being down here with just his invisible friends and other demons for company, but it’s making something hurt right behind his ribs, where his heart beats more slowly than it has any right to. He’d missed this. Cooking for someone else. Banter. Companionship. 

He takes a shaky breath and plunges his hands into the water, grabbing a frying pan and scouring it viciously. No use reminiscing and chasing pipe dreams. 

“Oi.”

Marimo’s voice catches his attention, and he rinses the sponge. “Hm?”

“How’s the—?” The man gestures vaguely to his neck, and Sanji’s fingers fly up to his throat to feel for the cut.

“Oh, that.” It’s already mostly healed, and he tilts his jaw to the side to show it. “S’fine. See?”

Marimo grunts, turning back to the last bites of his food. “Sorry.”

Sanji stills, something wild flaring hot in his ribcage before he mentally wrangles it into submission. He wouldn’t have expected an apology from anyone— much less this man. “It’s no big deal.”

“Still,” Marimo says gruffly, sliding the plate back over, the ceramic scraped clean. “And thanks.” He blinks for a second before nodding to the empty plate, as if it isn’t clear enough. “For the food.”

What the fuck. Sanji takes it, feeling like he’s in a bit of a daze. Marimo had seemed like a bit of a brute at first, with his scars and his close-cropped hair and his physique and the stupid shirt that was open halfway down his damn chest (Sanji, don’t look, it doesn’t matter how many muscles he has), not to mention the three swords. He’s bullheaded but obviously skilled, and— who the Hell is this guy? 

“Who sent you,” Sanji breathes as he sets the plate down, something sinking in the pit of his gut. He readies one hand behind his back. There has to be a catch.

Marimo frowns. “Nobody sent me, I told you I’m looking for my—”

He lunges. His claws are around the man’s neck in less than a second, digging up into the soft part of his throat. Marimo’s Adam’s apple bobs against the pad of his thumb. “Who sent you,” he hisses again, and it comes out less steady than he likes.

Sanji doesn’t know why he’s affected. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. He has not fallen so far that the thought of this small bit of— of courtesy, of company, being a farce should feel like such a betrayal. 

So why does it?

He tightens his grip, gaze boring into eyes that have gone granite-dark in the low light, and yet Marimo does not pull away. The man tips his chin up, allows the point of Sanji’s claw to dig just beneath his trachea. “Nobody sent me,” he repeats evenly, chest rising and falling with his breaths, and Sanji holds back a snarl. He has been alone for too long for some human to come waltzing in and fucking up his life with— whatever this is, only for him to get butthurt because it wasn’t real. It’s not even that big of a deal and he feels fucking ridiculous. 

“If you’re lying—”

“I’m not.” 

And it seems like he really isn’t. Marimo’s pulse is rock steady, his gaze unflinchingly neutral, tracking Sanji across the room even as the demon slowly pulls away. 

“I’m sorry,” Sanji mutters, leaning back against the sink and pressing a hand over his eyes with a tired exhale. “I apologise, I— I lost myself.” 

“S’okay,” Marimo says cautiously. His swords clatter against each other as he stands and pushes the stool in with his knee. “I should… get going.”

“Yeah.” Taking a deep breath, Sanji shakes his head a little and smoothes his hands over the front of his blouse. He snaps his fingers, and a shadow door materialises in front of the other man. “This will take you to the acquaintance I was talking about, Mihawk. He’s your best bet at finding— What’s his name?”

“Luffy.”

“Luffy. Right.” 

Marimo hesitates, and Sanji feels like something’s gotten caught in his throat. 

“It gets lonely here, doesn’t it?” the other man asks abruptly, turning to face Sanji properly.

He swallows. “…Sometimes,” he concedes, keeping his tone light. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Marimo gives an aborted jerk of his head, like he hadn’t been able to decide whether to nod or not. “Luffy’s appetite is crazy. He’ll be hungry when I find him.”

Sanji can’t help but laugh. It seems to be becoming a recurring problem. “You asking if I’ll feed him?” 

“Yeah. Because I think you’ll say yes.” 

A smirk pulls at Sanji’s mouth, and he lets it lean sharp. “Do you have a death wish, planning to come back to a demon’s castle?”

“Maybe,” Zoro mutters, but he matches Sanji’s expression tooth for tooth. “But the food’s good, and the company’s… decent.”

Sanji really does roll his eyes this time. Unbelievable. “You’ve got some nerve, Marimo.”

“Zoro.”

Zoro. It echoes around in his skull, sets something sparking up under his skin. “Zoro,” he tries, cocking his head before he nods to the shadow door. “Get going, idiot. That isn’t going to stay open forever.”

Zoro takes a step backwards. “You haven’t told me your name.”

Sanji purses his lips to hide his chuckle. “Come back with Luffy, and maybe you’ll find out.” 

The last thing he sees is the swordsman’s grin before the door dissolves, leaving him alone in his kitchen with a feeling in his chest that he hasn’t felt for ages. Fuck, this Zoro is trouble.

Sanji drags his hands over his face and groans, but he’s smiling. 

All he does in this damn castle is laze around and cook for himself. If it means cooking for someone else, and decent company… Well, a little trouble couldn’t hurt.

[saltybaltic]

I saw an idea like this online ages ago and it’s just come back to me like ... I could imagine Natasha doing this. You’ve been married a year and you both celebrate your wedding anniversary on the wrong day

Natasha Romanoff X Reader - SAVE THE DATE

Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow X FemReader Fanfic

Synopsis: On the day of your third wedding anniversary with Natasha, you realise that you’ve both been celebrating the wrong date

Warnings: Language

Words: 598

Natasha was humming quietly to herself as she arranged the flowers in the vase on the kitchen counter, a content smile on her face. She was so lost in her own world, happily trimming the stems of each flower that she didn’t even bother to check who was knocking at the door to her apartment, instead just shouting for them to enter.

When she heard the heavy footsteps of several people, she finally did look away from what she was doing, glancing up at the new arrivals with a frown.

“What are you doing here?”

The men laughed quietly, not at all surprised by Natasha’s apparent distaste for their company having known her so long by now.

“Nice to see you too, Nat.” teased Clint, giving the red head a playful smile as he stepped further into the room.

Tony pushed the door closed behind him, side stepping Steve and Clint as he made his way furthest inside and stopped on the opposite side of the breakfast bar in front of Natasha, “You act like you’re not pleased to see three of your favourite colleagues?”

“You’re not my favourites.” shot back Natasha, her tone emotionless but a small curve to her lips none the less. “I married my favourite.”

Ignoring Natasha’s response, Tony nodded to the flowers she was arranging, “Those are nice.”

“Aren’t they?” Natasha was unable to hide the happiness in her voice, a beaming expression making its way across her face as she looked over the flowers again and slid another into place. “My wife knows what she’s doing.”

“I’ll say.” agreed Tony, hopping up onto the counter and leaning back to look at the red head, “What’s the occasion? What’d she do wrong?”

Natasha tutted, “She didn’t do anything wrong, it’s our wedding anniversary.”

Tony appeared puzzled for a moment, looking like he was going to say something before abruptly closing his mouth in thought. He glanced over at Clint who was checking his watch with interest, both men sharing a look once he lifted his head.

It wasn’t often Natasha missed something and she definitely didn’t miss the awkward silence and eye contact between the two men, her hands stilling momentarily as she gave them both a frown, “What?”

“What’s the date?” asked Tony.

“The fifteenth.”

Tony clicked his tongue, looking back at Clint who shook his head vigorously from side to side in warning. Natasha didn’t miss that either.

“What’s wrong with all of you?”

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly, stepping forward so he was in the middle of Tony and Clint and the two men could no longer keep looking at each other, “It’s nothing Nat, that’s really sweet that you got flowers on your anniversary, congratulations.”

The mumbling of the man on the counter didn’t pass Natasha by, however he had said it so quietly that she couldn’t quite catch what the words were. Picking up one of the roses, she pointed the stem at him threateningly, “Spit it out, Stark.”

“Well the thing is ... I remember your wedding. It was a beautiful day really, I-“

“I wouldn’t Tony.” cut in Clint, certain that what was going to happen next wouldn’t be pleasant. The death glare he received from Natasha was enough for him to throw his hands up in surrender and fall silent again.

Tony cleared his throat, “So ... see ... I can’t help but think that there was a little discussion about the date because we had some work issues we needed to resolve.”

“Yes, I remember.” agreed Natasha.

“And do you also remember you two getting married on the thirteenth? Because I do.”

Natasha scoffed, “No we didn’t.”

“Clint?”

At Tony’s call of his name, Clint looked down at the ground, scuffing his boot against the floor as he scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably and tried not to shrink under Natasha’s gaze.

“Well?” asked Natasha impatiently.

Clint winced at the irritated tone, reluctantly meeting her eye with a small shrug, “It was the thirteenth, Nat. Remember? It was a Friday? We all made a joke about it being bad luck?”

Opening her mouth to retort, Natasha quickly shut it again as she narrowed her eyes and thought for a moment. Instead of arguing with her team mates any further, she raised her voice so it would reach the bedroom down the corridor, “Babe, can you come in here a sec?”

As you made your way into the kitchen, you hadn’t been expecting company and offered the men in your apartment a warm smile. You moved over towards Natasha, resting a hand on her hip as you leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek but weren’t given the chance as she stepped back to speak.

“What date did we get married?”

The fact she hadn’t allowed you to kiss her along with the question threw you a little, not sure if it was a test of some kind as you glanced around everyone in the room with a suspicious frown before looking back at your wife, “The fifteenth? Hence the flowers? Is this a trick because I’m a little confused.”

“They say it was the thirteenth.”

Your eyebrows furrowed further, rubbing at your chin in thought as you gave your head a shake slowly, “No ... it was definitely the fifteenth.”

“You know you two were lucky you had us helping you for the wedding because you’re both useless.” cut in Tony, going to place one of the flowers beside him into the vase but receiving a smack to the back of his hand from Natasha, “It was the thirteenth, dummies.”

“No ...” this time you didn’t sound so confident and Tony had to laugh.

“Oh come on! You don’t remember us teasing you?” asked Tony, a disbelievingly smile on his face. “We were all like ‘wow can’t believe you’re not only going to marry the black widow but you’re doing it on Friday the 13th’. Any of this ringing a bell?”

Looking away from the other men in the room, you gave Natasha a glance. The other woman looked like she couldn’t decide if she found the whole thing terribly annoying or just funny.

“I’m getting our marriage certificate.” you announced, making your way hastily out of the room and all but running down the corridor back to your bedroom.

By this point even Steve and Clint had joined in with Tony’s amusement, all three men trying and failing to hide their smiles as they waited patiently for you to return with the news. Not one of them could contain a laugh as they heard you shouting from the other end of the hallway.

“Holy shit they’re right!” you brought the piece of paper with you for good measure, dashing back into the kitchen and holding it up to Natasha in disbelief, “We’ve been celebrating on the wrong date.”

“Haven’t you guys been married like three years now?” asked Steve.

“That’s enough out of you, Captain Obvious.” you scolded, looking back at your wife, “Is this my fault or your fault?”

Natasha shrugged with a smirk, “I’m not sure but let’s say it’s yours.”

“Yeah that sounds about right.” you muttered, tossing the certificate onto one of the kitchen sides as you made your way towards the fridge and looked inside.

“What a relief I hadn’t given you your present yet. Now I can save it until next year.”

At Natasha’s words you immediately closed the fridge door, turning to the other woman and quirking an eyebrow as you opened the bottle of juice you had just retrieved, “Well that hardly seems fair, I already gave you yours.”

“I know ... and your present was soooo much better than flowers as well.” teased Natasha.

“Hand it over.”

Natasha smirked, going back to arranging the flowers and shrugging, “Couldn’t possibly give you it now. It’s more of a private gift and we have company.”

“Yeah, why are you guys here again?” you asked, directing your question to your team mates as you suddenly became desperate to have Natasha to yourself.

“Funnily enough it wasn’t to watch you two have anniversary sex two days too late.” joked Tony, hopping down from the kitchen counter, “Work beckons.”

You groaned, “Seriously?”

“We’ll let you two get ready, meet you downstairs in ten minutes.” Stated Steve, offering you both a nod before all three men started to make their way outside.

Grumbling quietly, you took a few swigs of your juice before tossing it back into the fridge. Just as you closed the door, you felt two arms wrap around your waist and Natasha’s chin resting on your shoulder.

“Seems marrying me on the thirteenth was bad luck after all.” teased Natasha, pressing a quick kiss to the side of your neck, “Now you have to work and miss out on your anniversary gift.”

Turning in the other woman’s arms, you gave her a grin as you brushed your thumb over the side of her jaw, “Oh honey, you’re gonna be giving me that gift later. And it’s already two days late so you have some making up to do.”

Natasha laughed, giving you a quick kiss as she stepped back with a wink, “Challenge accepted.”

[ask-anti-cosmo]

A.c x fairy reader fluffy

((Yes hello, DISCLAIMER:

I am rubbish at fluff, but I was honestly too excited about getting an ask AND Friday the 13th on its way, I did my best. Yes it's still Friday 13th here, shush)

You were in fairy world, your home. All with it’s pink cloud streets, cutesy houses and rainbow bridges. You glanced up at the big wand, the thing that gave your kind the magic they needed to go to earth, create everything you need, or grant wishes to children. Seeing the wand was always a relief to you, since occasionally it has needed maintenance and living without magic was dreadful.

As you looked away from it, your eyes fell on a wanted poster of the infamous Anti-Cosmo. You sighed at the sight of him. You know he is an anti-Fairy, and that made him all scary and whatever, but honestly you couldn’t help but enjoy his looks. You’ve never met him, but have seen him a couple times during his schemes. You remember the fear you felt in the moment was gone so quickly, you thought you might have been sick. All you could do was look at his stunning green eyes and deep blue shades.

Another fairy passed you and saw the poster as well, cringing. “Ugh, that creep again. You’d think Jorgen Von Strangle would do his job properly and keep them all locked up!”

“They’re our opposites though, they contradict us in every way and therefore know us probably better than ourselves. In a way, they’re apart of us.” You suggested, making the Fairy give you a dirty look and continue on their way.

Most fairies couldn’t help but hate their counterpart. And to be fair, so do the Anti’s. Being opposites, you supposed it to be natural. You’ve tried to get along with your Anti to no avail.

You sighed at the lack of peace between your species and began to head home, flouting over the walkways, making you wonder why they were put down in the first place. You passed an alley where you heard rustling. You paused and peeked in to see a black cat looking through trash. You were out of it’s sight when it looked up, showing off it’s neon green eyes and deep blue collar. It’s fangs were particularly longer than an actual cat, making you consider that maybe this was a certain anti-Fairy in disguise. The only one most famous for that eye color.

You took a minute to catch your breath, getting excited to think that this is probably THE Anti-Cosmo. You wanted to take him home, but knew he’d be too clever to fall for it. You had to be subtle, let it be HIS idea.

You shuffled through you pocket and took out you wand, making some trash appear in your hand. You then casually walked up to the garbage can next to the cat and threw away the trash. You glanced at the cat and flinched before looking closer. “Huh, weird cat. Didn’t know Fairy world could even have strays…” you said, starting to walk away, but kept glancing back at the cat suspiciously.

You hoped he would assume his cover might be blown, but that he could stop you from mentioning it from anybody. You heard the shuffling behind you as you flouted away. You glanced back at him before speaking up, making it appear that you were nervous, and possibly an easy target.

You went straight home, the cat on your heels and you got inside. You slammed the door closed then inconspicuously opened a window with your magic so it would appear you carelessly forgot to close it.

You then smiled and acted relaxed and safe. “Okay! Now that that’s over, I can go finish that pasta!” you said and walked away from the open window.

You made it to the kitchen and opened the fridge, taking out the container of pasta. You turned to see the whole house. Except for the kitchen was now pitch black. That did make you jump for real, and especially when the kitchen when black as well.

“H-hello?” you called, feeling the adrenaline start to pump as your hands quivered.

“Hello indeed.” A voice said as you felt window blow around you.

Anti-Cosmo stepped from the darkness, close to you and narrowed his beautiful eyes. “You would tell anyone about me now, would you?” he asked.

You just stared a minute before shaking your head.

“Good.” He said bluntly and took the pasta from your hands, letting the house go back to it’s normal bright colors. “I’m starving, but this will have to do.” He said as he ate your food.

“Okay one, rude. But also, why are you in Fairy world? There are posters of you everywhere!” you huffed.

“My business is my own. I certainly wouldn’t share it with a goodie goodie fairy.” He said. Showing off his fangs. Wow. Those looked handsome on him too.

“Yeah okay but what are you going to do now? I know you’re here, they’re looking for you…it’s only a matter of time.” You told him, trying not to swoon over seeing his face so close.

“Nonsense, I can hide here and keep you with me so they’ll be no tattling to that brick of a fairy, Jorgen.” He said and finished eating. He fluttered up and came in front of you. “you try to run off and you’ll wish you could die.”

“O-okay…wow.” You whispered as you watched him. He didn’t seem to notice thankfully.

“I won’t be with you long…” he said as he took out his black wand and clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Something wrong?” you asked and flouted closer. Hoping he’d make eye contact with you again.

He glanced up and put his wand away. “No, why would there be? Besides of course, the fact I’m holding you hostage in your own house and you’re not screaming.”

“What would screaming do?” you shrugged.

“You mean besides conveying and expressing fear?” he asked, now looking and you slightly suspicious. “You a little too calm for someone in your situation, what are you hiding?”

“What are you hiding?” you asked, trying to look at his wand. He kept it from your sight before grabbing your arm. “give me YOUR wand.”

“Trade me.” You reasoned. He hesitated but did as you asked. Sure enough, his wand had a crack in it, meaning it wasn’t long till the fearsome Anti-Cosmo would have been magicless and helpless.

“So you want me to fix your wand with mine?” you asked making him look away.

“That was the idea. At least let me recharge it so I can head back to my own home.”

“Will you take me there?” you asked.

He looked at you funny. “Why would I do that? Even if you do tell on me, I’ll be long gone.”

“Well, I’ve long ago put a spell on my wand to be sure it only works for me, so without me…” you shrugged and looked away.

“I…why would a fairy want to go to Anti-Fairy World? Isn’t it a bit dark for your liking?” he frowned, his brows furrowed.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t judge someone before knowing them.” You suggested before hearing a siren go off outside.

Anti-cosmo flinched at the sound and held out his hand. “Quick! Charge my wand!!”

“Will you take me with you?” you asked.

Before he could answer, the light from your wand went out, making you both stare at it a minute. You quickly turned on the TV to find the news. Jorgen Von strange shoved the usual news reporters out of the way.

“Attention fairy world! Anti-Cosmo has been sighted. To ensure his capture, we have set everyone’s wands to reduced power, and have guards at the rainbow bridge. Not enough magic to leave fairy world, or do any big act. It will be this way until we find him! If anyone sees anything, report it immediately.” He yelled in his German accent.

Anti-cosmo cussed and stepped away from the TV.

“Does he know your wand is broke?” you asked him.

“Of course he does, who do you think would be strong enough to do so?” the anti-Fairy huffed.

“Well, guess you’re stuck here.” You shrug.

He looked back at you curiously. “You’re not going to report me or anything?”

“Why? I’ve been wanting to meet you for years.” you smiled.

“…Really?” he narrowed his eyes.

You gave a light shrug with a smile. “either way, I have enough magic to make us food and everything we need, so... Just make yourself at home.” You smiled.

“Bit too fluffy for that. But I’ll do my best.” He said looking at your cutesy, brightly colored decore.

“I'll prepare you a room. We can make it more to your taste of you want.” You offered.

He was quiet for a minute but agreed. You helped him design your guest room to his liking, which was very goth looking but it certainly made him look more relaxed. You left him in the room to go about your own business.

He spent the rest of the day in his room. Even 2hen you brought him food he’d take it but quickly seclude himself again. Which was a bummer but you accepted he had a stressful day considering he’s being hunted by the toughest fairy in the universe. You’d be stressed too.

You decided to end the day with some earth TV. Fairy TV only had boring soap opera’s and over dramatised reality TV. You turned on a thriller and relaxed with your popcorn.

You heard a door closed in the house and smiled to yourself, thinking Anti-Cosmo was wandering the house a little now that it was dark. It was completely silent except for the TV, no footsteps from the fact that he flouted, but it made you try to listen even harder for where he was in the house. It didn’t make you nervous (well, maybe, but just cause you’re watching a thriller movie) and yet you jumped when your fairy crown was flicked off your head and clattered to the ground. For some reason that made you more nervous than if he had just tapped your shoulder or actually touch you to jump scare you.

“Oh, earth TV?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah, fairy TV is just so…”

“Dull for being made by magical beings?” he smiled and sat in the couch. “Sickeningly fluffy? Tries to mimic all the worst things about earth TV?”

“All of the above?” you added with a smile. He was warming up to you. If a fairy and Anti-Fairy could even just be friends. Then it would show the two species that you’re not so different from one another.

“Either way, interesting choice for a show with an anti-Fairy in your home.” He said, watching the thriller with you.

“Does Anti-Fairy Tv look like this?” you asked.

“Pretty close to it. Usually there are shows about better ways the spread bad luck and downright horror’s. This is pretty tame, but it is making me feel less homesick.” He sighed and crossed his legs.

“That’s good. I’d love for Anti-Fairies and Fairies to learn to get along. Maybe not mix our world’s, but at least not trying to destroy each other.” You told him.

“Ha!” he rolled his eyes. “As if. Who would benefit from that?”

“Uh…everyone?” you frowned. “like, not having to fear Jorgen Von Strangle lifting this house, grabbing you and hucking you back into prison? Not to mention, there has to be something you like about fairy world? After all, no one loves every inch of their world. Like, maybe there’s a bakery in fairy world who makes the cake you love the most or something.”

He stared at you and shook his head. “You’re ridiculous, of course I love every inch of my anti-Fairy world. It’s my kingdom after all.”

“I think you’re just trying to put on a tough guy act to keep up your fearsome king act. Surely there’s something you like here.”

He thought for a bit. “Alright, fine. I will say I love the bowling alley’s here. Earth ones aren’t magical enough, and we don’t really have them in Anti-Fairy world. Everything is spiky and jagged there, not fit for bowling.” He shrugged.

“Bowling huh? I could make us a Bowling alley in the house.”

“With what little magic you have left?” he inquired.

“its not that little…but yeah we may have to wait till Jorgen lifts the earth ban.”

“Well then, when that time comes, I’ll just have to show you why I am the king of the anti-Fairies.”

“Ooh is that a challenge?” you grinned at him.

“As if a fairy could match up to me~” He grinned playfully.

The lockdown lasted longer than you thought, but Jorgen Von Strangle was no king, he could only lock down fairy world for no more than a week for such a circumstance. In the meantime. You and Anti-C9smo got to know each other more and to your delight he even seemed a little flirty with you. Not that anything ever became of it, after all, there still felt like a variety between you two with the differ in species.

Still, you planned to make the most of his stay and scooted closer to him on the 6th movie night. Jorgen had to lift the van any day now. And you wanted to try one thing before Anti-Cosmo could even escape. It was simple, but you had always wanted to try.

Tonight, you planned on holding his hand, whether he knew it or not.

[sleepylixie]

Cupid’s Arrow-1

Boxer! Lee Know x fem! Reader

2k words, Romance, College AU(Imperium Universe-4) 

Songs: Tiger Inside- Super M

A/N : Y’all heard right. Part-1. Tumblr deleted the draft i was working on here, leaving me only with the first half of the fic that I wrote on Docs. I'm so sorry for the delay @delicatewerewolfsoul I'll make sure to get that posted asap 🥺💕 This fic can be read individually, of course. :) Do let me know what y’all think about this story!! ONTO THE FIC. - Elliana

Imperium Universe: Jisung || Seungmin ||Lee Know || Chan

“Who the everloving heck are you?!” You yell, hands banging roughly against the surface of the table. Assorted shushes and glares were instantly directed towards you, the closest being the admonishing stare of Mark Lee, your best friend.

“You do realize we are in a library?” He hissed, a mess of dark brown hair swinging over his brow as he shook his head at you. You rolled your eyes at him, only turning your attention back to the source of your annoyance- your laptop screen.

“This is the 13th ask I’ve received about the same M in this semester.” You retorted, albeit quieter than your initial outburst. Mark’s brows furrowed, lips pouting in a frown as he absentmindedly turned over a page of his book. “How do you even know it’s the same M? It could very well be one person sending the same ask 13 times.”

“You were the genius who put together the one-ask per account rule in the first place!” You threw your arms up in exasperation, the volume control still proving to be a bit of a struggle. “Besides, they’re all worded really differently, look-” You turned your laptop to face Mark, who leaned forward to scan the words on your screen.

A sleek red website sat open in an incognito tab, punctuated with assorted dove-grey boxes full of questions and curiosities, the sidebar flashing a pretty name- Lovelorn Secretkeeper(LLS). Your best friend chuckled as he read the questions on the site. “People have it bad for this dude.”

“I know! They even say the exact same thing, that he’s too out of their league to even try, but he’s too handsome and talented,” punctuating handsome and talented with exaggerated hand movements, “to not try- What do they expect me to tell them!?”

As cliche as it sounded, Lovelorn Secretkeeper was your university’s anonymous love-guru and wine aunt, meting out advice about crushes and heartbreak solutions like over-the-counter pills. People caught wind of it days after the website mysteriously popped up on the informal forums, impossible to trace altogether. Tens of questions poured in by the day, all questions from lovelorn souls asking for the help of the elusive apparition running the site.

If only Everlark University knew that LLS was run by not one, but two apparitions- both of whom were currently puzzling over the identity of a certain M who had turned up on their list of secrets once too often.

“How difficult do you think it would be to find out who M is?” Mark mused, pushing the laptop back towards you. “I mean, you know he’s a dancer and he’s handsome, so why don’t you, I don’t know,” a nonchalant shrug moving his shoulders, “ask the girls you know, I guess? I’m sure word gets around fast if he’s as hot as these questions scream he is.”

The cogs in your head began to turn, albeit rather unwillingly. You weren’t the most social person despite being aware of status quos your university’s student functioned on- was this Dora-the-explorer-esque expedition to find the elusive M absolutely necessary?

No, it wasn’t, you realized, but your own curiosity wouldn’t be satisfied until you found out who it was that had managed to enamour these many people all while looking evidently unavailable.

“Yeah, I’ll probably do that.”

//

“Hey! Y/N, Right?” A pretty girl sidled up to you on the other side of the bar, her fingers slightly awkward around the glass she was cleaning. New to the trade, you thought belatedly as you smiled politely and nodded at her.

Imperium Bar was just beginning to fill up with students and teacher’s assistants, ready to celebrate the end of yet another week with some cheap alcohol and good times. It was barely halfway through the semester but people inevitably ended up drowning in work- such was the life of a normal student in university, always busy and bustling with full checklists-

“You’re looking for Minho, I heard.” she grinned setting down one glass and picking up the other.

“Yes, I am.” You responded lightly, your eyes still grazing over the slowly filling booths and tables from the corner of the counter you were sitting at.

“He is pretty handsome, really good in the ring. You have a good eye.”

By ring, you could only assume that the new bartender of Imperium meant the stage. You’d spent the past week asking around for a possibly new admit to Everlark who happened to be a dancer and unattainably handsome. To your surprise, your search was cut short in the matter of days when Yeji, a junior in your class pointed you to Lee Felix from her class who knew a Lee Minho. Lee Minho, a transfer student from Everlark’s sister university on the other side of the city, with an express acceptance into the dance club Felix was a part of.

“You’ll find him in Imperium on Fridays,” Felix had the sweetest disposition, a warm smile on his face as he divulged information about his seemingly old friend with great ease. “You should drop by if you want to see him!”

Your better judgement yelled at you to forget the chase- you knew his full name, it was just the matter of a social media stalk before you found out what you needed to know for your 13( now 16) askers. However, you found yourself pulling on a dark hoodie and slipping into the bar on Friday evening, shivering slightly from the cool breeze. You were just curious, you were sure. Just curious.

“Felix! Over here!” The bartender raised an arm in greeting to somebody behind you and moments later, Felix’s dark mane of hair made its way into your line of sight. His eyes were slight crescents on his face as he smiled, the sunny amiability prompting a smile to creep over your face as well.

“Hello, Felix.”

“Sorry for making you wait!” Felix pulled you into a quick hug, before cocking his head towards the back of the bar. “Let’s go, he’s already down there.”

An eyebrow raised in curiosity, you dragged your eyes between Felix and the bartender as you hopped off the stool. “Down...where?”

Felix’s eyes widened, the bartender letting out a gasp of surprise. “Uh…” Your new friend’s voice trailed off in uncertainty, wide and beseeching eyes immediately darting towards the bartender for help. “Oops.”

“Your access should really be revoked, you troublemaking gremlin.” The bartender accused, tossing her dishcloth at him and reaching over to smack him across the head before turning to you.

“There’s been a misunderstanding, Y/N. Junior moron here-” waving indistinctly in Felix’s direction, “is talking about the cellars. Minho works part time here, so he’s usually getting into the stocks in the cellar downstairs. Felix forgot about the rule stating that patrons can’t-”

“At least try to lie convincingly.” You cut through her tirade, a choked laugh from Felix punctuating her surprised silence. Possibly not the most polite thing to say, in hindsight, but her attempts to cover up whatever was going on in the cellar was just getting difficult to hear. You smiled quietly, eyes dragging between Felix’s eyes, alive with mirth to the bartender’s, flat with suspicion.

“It’s not illegal, is it?” You let the question slip loud enough for the two of them to hear. The bartender nodded the exact moment Felix shook his head. A giggle bubbled up your throat at the instant glance of betrayal that passed between the two of them.

“I’ll keep silent about this if the two of you will.” You grinned, shrugging slightly as you pushed the strap of your bag further up your shoulder. Felix let another crow of laughter, twining his arm with yours as he steered you towards the dark back door of Imperium, waving off the bartender’s expasterated shouts to be careful, for fuck’s sake-

“You seem like such a cool person,” Felix giggled as you followed his lead, making your way past the tables and groups of people and back into the cool air outside. . “I was a little intimidated by you at first but you’re actually really cool.” You laughed aloud as Felix knocked thrice on a door next to the bar’s back door in a neat pattern.

“Good to know you think so, junior.”

Just then, the door swung open to a set of stairs and a wave of noise much louder than what you were used to.

“Welcome to the real Imperium.”grinned Felix.

//

You did not think this was where you’d be spending your Friday night- in the basement of a bar with higher ceilings than you thought was possible, the roar of voices settling you more firmly into reality than anything else you’re ever experienced.

The second you and Felix reached the bottom of the stairs, you could see the crowd gathered around the center of the space, the flood lights pointed towards whatever was going on in the middle. There were sparse groups of people scattered throughout, a makeshift bar and couches spread haphazardly around one side while the windows at the top of the walls were left open for some semblance of ventilation. Despite the number of people in the underground space, it didn’t feel… suffocating.

“Do you mind blood or gore?”

Your eyes narrowed; what even was this place? “No.”

Before you could question it, Felix was pulling you towards the crowd and into it, easily slipping between the spaces towards the attraction in the center. You allowed him to lead you, as you had the entire night, until the two of you re-emerged at the edge of the-

The ring.

It looked very much like a boxing ring, but on the same floor level as the audience. Inside were two guys circling each other, breath heaving in puffs of smoke against the chilled air through gritted teeth. They were both dressed in contrasting red and blue, their clenched fists enclosed in hand-wraps. The two guys slipped in and out of the stark shadows that the criss-cross of the floodlights created until one of them caught your eye-

Lee Minho. You didn’t need the yelled introduction Felix was giving you because there was no other way to describe that other than unattainably handsome. Suddenly, the 18 askers in LLS made sense- of course, of fucking course this face seemed impossible to match up to.

You watched in bated curiosity, your eyes scanning him and his opponent- and Minho made the first move. The crowd dissolved into roars of encouragement as he went in for a clean right hook, his movements smooth and feline-fluid. He was confident, you realized as you watched him dodge and block and strike with an almost bored, practiced ease. No, he was good at looking confident. The set of his jaw was nothing but confident, his teeth bared in a snarl of fake amusement as he lunged at his opponent, the fight dissolving into a tangle of arms and legs rolling against the concrete floor.

“He’s one of the best this season.” Felix yelled over the din of the crowd, but your eyes were still trained on the match. “You don’t say.” You shouted back, catching yet another glimmer of amusement light up your companion’s face before turning your attention back to the fight.

Yes, he truly seemed like the best- your breath caught in your throat at Minho’s unhesitant, almost instinctual manner of moving, already on the other side of his opponent before he could even throw a swing. His poor opponent was almost effortlessly pummeled to the ground soon after, a grin of triumph pulling up his lips and the nasty looking bruise high on his cheekbone as he was announced the winner.

His eyes scanned the exultant crowd, catching on yours for a split second before moving away-

You let out a long breath as he hopped out of the ring and into the dark of the surroundings. So it was him.

This was the M your askers were going on and on about-

For the first time, you were in agreement with them.

Lee Minho truly did seem unattainable.

//

Taglist/Interested Parties 🥴: @aliceu @decembermoonskz @rebecca-noona @skzctnightnight @fylithia @illicit-roses @cotccotc @straykidsownmysoul @soya-zz @stellarmonsterr @seraplantery @jl-micasea \\ @inkidz @starryktown @districtninewriters @stayhavens​  

Do let me know what you think! - Elliana

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Cabin Ten

Another installment of A Very Bouncey Halloween! This is based on Friday the 13th but like wayyyyyy less murder and way more smut.

tw: SMUT! PLEASE 18+ ONLY! 

Jaskier’s wearing pink booty shorts if that helps.

---

“Geralt!” the skinny brunette giggled, “Where are we going?”

“So you know how I got here a few days before everyone else to clean out the boathouse?”

“Yeah.”

“I may have found an abandoned cabin hidden somewhere deep in the woods, cleaned it up, and made it nice enough to spend an evening or two alone in. I figured we could have one more romantic night together before the campers arrive,” Geralt ended his explanation with a wink over his shoulder.

“You’re so sweet,” Jaskier smiled. Geralt was leading his boyfriend through the dense forest around Camp Crystal Lake by the hand. He made sure to hold aside any particularly large or dangerous tree branches until Jaskier had passed by; he liked keeping his slightly smaller boyfriend out of harm’s way. This time as Jaskier passed him, Geralt smacked him lightly on the ass. The counselor laughed and turned to blow him a playful kiss, “I love you, hot stuff.”

“Thanks, Jask.”

Geralt wasn’t known for his romantic tendencies, but something about Jaskier was just so inspiring. When they’d both gotten the chance to work at the same summer camp together before their junior year of college started up, they’d jumped at the opportunity. Now, as the time for actual campers to arrive approached, the lifeguard found himself brimming with giddy, nervous energy. This was probably the last opportunity he had to fool around with Jaskier for another two months. Just as he was starting to panic, they came upon the door to Cabin Ten.

“Did you really find Cabin Ten?” Jaskier asked. Geralt nodded and pushed open the creaking wooden door. He’d brought an enormous collection of clean and comfortable blankets, a fresh mattress for the cot, a basket of food and candles, and a bottle of wine. “That’s so cute, babe! This is amazing! I must be the luckiest man on the planet.”

Geralt blushed and set the basket down on the rough-hewn wooden table. He pulled out the bottle of wine and uncorked it. “Shall we?”

---

“Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier moaned, fisting his hand in his boyfriend’s snow-white hair. The lifeguard grinned against his boyfriend’s pale chest and bit down again, worrying the skin slowly out from between his teeth to leave a wide red mark. The radio was still pouring Pat Benetar out into the otherwise silent forest:

“Your love has set my soul on fire, burnin' out of control!

You taught me the ways of desire, now it's takin' its toll!

You're the right kind of sinner to release my inner fantasy...

The invincible winner, and you know that you were born to be!

You're a heartbreaker

Dream maker, a love taker

Don't you mess around with me

You're a heartbreaker

Dream maker, a love taker

Don't you mess around, no! No! No!”

---

A hooded figure peeked in through the window from the silent woods outside. Seeing the two boys, half-dressed and clearly enjoying a romantic entanglement far from their coworkers, the person paused. The mysterious stranger could creep inside quietly, kill the boys without alerting anyone else, and head towards camp with no one the wiser. But...why? What would be the point? It wasn’t like these boys were screwing in the kiddy cabins where children would soon take up residence; Cabin Ten was long abandoned. It had been built too far away from the others and slowly forgotten, left to rot from disuse. The two young lovers were probably already dealing with enough bullshit from society and their families already, anyway. These particular camp employees wouldn’t be dying tonight. 

The figure, having made their decision, carried on towards Camp Crystal Lake. leaving Geralt and Jaskier well enough alone.

---

“Geralt, please stop teasing,” the younger boy begged, tugging at the back of his boyfriend’s half-ponytail. “C’mon.”

The lifeguard growled and looked up at Jaskier with lidded honey-gold eyes. “You’d better stop pulling my hair like that unless you really want to get in trouble, babe.”

The brunette smirked and gave one final, decisive tug before he was tackled backwards onto the bed. He squealed and batted at Geralt’s broad chest with weak fists. “Hey! Let me up!”

“No,” Geralt grinned. He dove forward, burying his face in the crook of Jaskier’s neck and biting down gently. He slowly increased the pressure of his teeth until his boyfriend was a panting, writhing mess beneath him, clinging to his red tank-top with desperate, heat-seeking hands. 

“Take your shirt off you delectable bastard,” Jaskier demanded. His usually nimble fingers scrabbled at the hem, trying to pull it off and having more than a little trouble. The lifeguard stilled his boyfriend’s busy hands and took the shirt off himself, tossing it carelessly to the floor. Once he was bare, however, those same hands became a slightly more immediate problem.

Jaskier flattened his palms against Geralt’s insanely defined pecs and spread his fingers as wide as they could go. He trailed the guitar-calloused tips slowly downwards, tracing every dip and groove in Geralt’s muscles as he went. The white-haired lifeguard resisted the urge to shudder when some of those fingers suddenly snapped together, each hand trapping a nipple and rolling it gently. 

“Fuck!”

“That’s the intention, I think,” Jaskier giggled cutely. Too cutely for what he was doing to Geralt’s body right now. The lifeguard growled and bit down on his boyfriend’s shoulder again, worrying a dark love bite into the skin. “Hey! Babe! The kids are coming this week! Knock it off!”

“Then don’t tease me so bad, you minx.”

“But I like to tease,” Jaskier pouted. “You’re cute when you’re all worked up.”

“Rude,” Geralt murmured against the skin of his boyfriend’s neck. “Very rude.”

One of his broad hands reached down, cupping beneath one of Jaskier’s practically bare thighs. He ran his hand up and under his boyfriend’s temptingly skimpy pink cotton gym shorts, kneading the meat of Jaskier’s ass with his fingertips.

“Oh babe,” the brunette moaned, pressing himself even closer to Geralt. “Yes!”

---

Jaskier arched down towards the bed and keened, high and loud. The radio might not have been able to cover up that particular noise and Geralt blushed at the thought of their coworkers overhearing. Any potential follow-up thought was ripped from his head a second later when Jaskier clenched his ass with purpose and rocked his whole body backwards against Geralt’s. “You’d better start fucking me for real, babe.”

The lifeguard complied, moving so that his foot was flat on the bed and he was half-curled over Jaskier’s back. He knew he got the angle just right when Jaskier threw his head back and began to release high, huffy little panting sounds. He was close. Geralt knew those sounds well; he’d learned to achieve them with lots of dedicated practice.

Geralt sped up, digging his fingers into the creases where Jaskier’s legs met his hips. He wanted to leave bruises that only the two of them would know about. Only the two of them would ever see. That thought alone was getting him-

“Geralt! Fuck - babe, fuck - I’m close - I’m gonna-”

“Jask, yes,” Geralt grunted, his stuttering hips a dead giveaway for his own impending orgasm. Jaskier went taut and still beneath him, gasping as he came across the plaid flannel blanket laid out beneath them. Geralt followed after, tumbling into the tight heat of his boyfriend’s fantastic ass. They both came down from their mutual high together, panting hard and smiling. Geralt collapsed onto his side and pulled Jaskier against him. “Shit, babe.”

“That was- wow. That was great,” Jaskier laughed breathlessly. 

“Yeah. Should we get dressed and head back to our real bunk for the night?”

“Hmm...skinny dipping first? The lake is right there and you are a lifeguard after all.”

“So you think you’re in safe hands?”

Jaskier pecked his sweaty boyfriend on the cheek and nodded. “Oh yes. The very safest.”

[moonlit-mizukage]

Love Letters Aone x Reader

Very Brief Summary: Shy new girl (y/n) confesses to Aone through an anon letter in his locker

Genre: Fluff I think (?)

Word Count: 2.9k

An: This is my first ever writing piece I'm posting so I hope it's not too bad :/ I might do a part two if people want to see what would happen next, sorry for grammar and spelling mistakes. 

FRIDAY APRIL 15TH 

It's been just over a month since school started a new term. Things returned to normal in the Miyagi Prefecture for everyone, except Aone Takanobu, a third year at Date Tech. Aone had received his very first anonymous love letter, placed on top of his shoes at the end of the day. 

"What's that Nobu?" Futakuchi asked, eyeing for the mysterious envelope in his hand. 

"Must have been the wrong locker" Aone replied stoically. 

Futakuchi grabbed the envelope, reading over the front of the envelope. "Not unless there is another Aone Takanobu in this school." He said laughing a bit. Aone grabbed back the letter slightly flustered, his cheeks showing the slightest pink tinge to them. The boys walked out of the school together heading to the volleyball clubroom. 

Upon entering the club room second year Koganegawa perked up looking at the very thing Aone had clutched in his right hand. "Did you get a love letter Aone?!" He said slightly too loud. The other team members looked over at him and he remained unfazed other than the small pink tone once again across his cheeks. "Who's it from?" He asked again. 

"He didn't open it yet!" Futakuchi explained dramatically, "Come on Nobu don't you want to know who it's from?" 

Aone lifted the letter up flipping it over, his facial expression remaining the same. He glanced around at his teammates knowing they would not leave him alone till he did. He carefully pulled back the flap that was gently tucked inside the back. He pulled out a handwritten letter and started to read it slowly as the guys around him looked at him with excitement. 

Aone flipped the letter over on the back side showing a slight trace of confusion on his face. "There's no name." He started flipping the letter all around. 

"Let me see," As Futakuchi grabbed the letter from his hand. He scanned over the letter looking for any sort of hint who it could be. "We can check again after practice Nobu, maybe we missed it." He said placing a hand on Aone shoulder. The team had left the room headed into the gym. 

Little did they know, (y/n) and her friend Yuki were hiding out peaking around the corner of the third gym watching the door of the club room. 

"I should have put my name on" she exclaimed nervously to Yuki. "I haven't talked to him before, so I don't think he will know its me, maybe it better this way though, I probably embarrassed myself beyond belief with all my mistakes and-" 

"Stop that (y/n). I'm sure he'd be overjoyed to have someone who is truly beautiful inside and out, having a huge crunch on him. Plus if he doesn't know it's you then maybe he is dense." Yuki said with a slight  giggle. (y/n)'s eyes grew larger from her inner embarrassment as as she remembered how she had gotten here.

(y/n) was a new student who had just moved here late January from out of the country. She had joined a second year class even though she was a third year just to get in more practice with the language. Her ability to speak the language was far better than her reading and writing skills. Her father's job had uprooted them in her last year of highschool, but she didn't mind much as she was very shy and didn't have many friends back home anyways. She met Yuki through her father's co-worker saying he had a daughter about (y/n)'s age. 

When she first laid eyes on Date Techs middle blocker she instantly felt the need to be held by him. She wanted to be the one able to hold his hand, be able to fall asleep in his arms, be the one to give his soft kisses and hugs. She fell head over heels in just one glance. She tried at first to learn his name from overhearing his friends call to him. The one always referred to him as Nobu. At the beginning of May, she had finally gotten the courage to place an anonymous confession letter inside the third years locker. Little did she know, there was two third years given names ending with Nobu. She waited around the corner for him to open the letter only realizing it was the wrong guy she had confessed too, out of total embarrassment, she even decided not to show up to her own confession spot she had left on the letter that evening. Her friend Yuki had an idea that they would go to a practice match they were having against Karasuno at their school the next day. On Saturday, they sat down watching the two teams play it out, until she heard  "Nice block Aone" after the man she had heart eyes for blocked a powerful spike from the orange haired guy. She let out a squeak noise as she finally knew his name, she noticed they had heard her as Aone was turning to look at her she quickly jumped to the floor leaving Yuki red in the face looking down awkwardly. The next incident was April 13th, two day before she would give the letter. After find out his name she had wrote him, She was walking through the cafeteria and was looking around for him, not noticing him walking as she directly collided into his strong chest, 

“I-I-I-I uhh sorry.” She said as she rushed off as fast as her feet could carry her straight out of the cafeteria. She told Yuki as Yuki had a good laugh about it. (y/n) had decided this time she would give him the letter, but in his locker, and not signed, the chances of him knowing her name she thought was small and he wouldn't return the same feelings she feared. After three embarrassing incidents, she decided she had to tell him her feelings. 

This is how the two girls got to where they are now, creeping around the third gym, Yuki peaked into the window, to which she did not realize Futakuchi had seen her. Yuki was telling (y/n) all about how flustered Aone was looking out on the court with is pink cheeks. 

“Hey” a voice spoke from behind the two girls, (Y/n) pankiced as she turned on her heels and started running as fast as she could. Yuki turned around awkwardly as she is now face to face with Futakuchi

“Uh Hi,” She started sounding nervous. 

“Are you the one who gave Aone the letter?” He asked very bluntly. 

“Uhh, no sorry. It was my friend who just ran away, she is really shy, I’m sorry about that too.” She said rubbing the back of her neck. 

“What’s her name? She never signed the letter so Aone wasn't sure who had written it for him.” 

“Yeah… she said she did that on purpose cause she assumes he has no idea who she is…...Oh, her name is (y/l/n) (y/n). She's really sweet I promise, I better go catch up to her, see you around Futakuchi- Kun” she said as she started running after you. 

(y/n) was currently sitting on a bench on the opposite side of the running track, slightly panicking. As Yuki approached her she began to grow more and more worried. 

“Yuki! You didn't tell him anything did you?” She said, as her noticeable sweat beat down her forehead. 

“Uhhh well you see,” 

“YUKI!” 

“What (y/n)! You know cute boys are my weakness! You ran off so fast and he saw me peeking in the gym window! I had to say something.” 

(y/n) eyes were so big as she stared at the ground slightly stirred up by the news she had just received. “Ha ha” She laughed very very awkwardly, “Time to transfer schools.” 

This time a genuine laugh from Yuki came out, “You’re hilarious (y/n), let's go back to my place.” The girls left the school grounds now and headed back to Yuki’s. (y/n) wishes she had waited two more days to confess, as it was friday she would remain nervous all weekend now. 

Back in the third gym, Futakuchi had returned to the scene and was quickly approaching Aone. “(y/l/n) (y/n), that's who wrote you the letter Nobu. I didn’t get a good look at her though, she ran away so fast, she must be on the track team with that speed.” he said with a light chuckle.

“Oh, (y/l/n)! She’s in my class,” Spoke up Onagawa, “She is the girl with (y/h/l) (y/h/c) (y/h/t) hair and (y/e/c) eyes. She is really shy and just talks to Sato-san.” 

Aone looked noticeably more flustered than before, no one knew if he knew who she was or was just flustered he got a confession. 

The weekend came around and Futakuchi and Aone were hanging out in Aone’s room. 

“I found her!” Shouted Futakuchi from beside Aone. He passed over the phone to Aone, “See this one right here, she matches Onagawa’s description perfectly. I found her by using Yuki’s account. 

Aone blushed, “She’s so pretty, are you sure she is the one?”

“Yes I am for certain Nobu. What do you plan to do now that you know?” 

Aone looked hard at the picture of (y/n) on the phone. He stayed silent for a few minutes. He remembered the very first time he saw her walking the school halls and how his stomach felt as if he ate 1000 butterflies for lunch, as she rushed so fast passed him the scent of rose filled his nostrils. It was this moment he knew he wanted to be the one to hold your hand, the one to give you kisses and text you good morning and good night. He wanted to be the only one to be able to say you were his. 

He remembers when she showed up to a practice match and how you had made such a strange noise when he had blocked a spike. He also saw her dive onto the floor, which he thought was the cutest thing.  He also remembers the time you walked right into him in the cafeteria, he didn't even get the chance to ask if you were okay before you fled the scene. He thought you were scared of him after this, but finding out she was the one to write the letter made his heart race. Aone smiled slightly as he looked at Futakuchi. 

“I will confess back..” 

At this moment Futakuchi could not help but get excited for his best friend. “I didn't know you liked her! Nobu you should have told me sooner I could have helped.” 

MONDAY APRIL 18TH, 

Aone began to feel his nerves as today he would put a letter back in your locker. The letter was very different from yours as all his said was:

Cherry blossom tree friday at 3:30

 He waited for the area to clear out before heading back and slipping it inside your locker under your shoes. 

At the end of the day (y/n) went up to her locker, yuki standing close beside her, as she grabbed out her shoes as she noticed the note slide out from under them. As she picked up the note and read it, confusion could be seen across her face. Her eyebrows furrowed so deeply as she looked up at Yuki. She passed it over to Yuki as she read over it. 

“Oh my gosh (y/n)! I think it's a confession!” 

“But…. what tree am I supposed to meet them under?” She asked as if Yuki had any idea. 

“Well dear (y/n)-chan, that's a great question.” 

Over at the third gym Futakuchi was bragging about his best friend who had put a love letter in a girls locker today. 

“What did it say, Aone-Senpai?” asked Koganegawa. 

Aone replied with his usual facial expression just casually saying “Cherry blossom tree friday at 3:30.” The confused facial expressions could be seen worn by his team. 

“Is that really all you put? You’re kidding right? How is she going to know which one to go to? They are all over the school grounds. And what about that cute sappy one I helped you write? You took everything out but the last line.” Futakuchi sighed, running his right hand through his hair. 

Aone looked a little worried before he just walked away to his spot on the gym floor ready to play the practice 3 on 3 game for today. Futakuchi looked at him, noticeably annoyed with his friend's lack of response. 

FRIDAY APRIL 22ND: CONFESSION DAY

After a long week of nerves from both sides, Aone of course not showing it and only expressing it to Futakuchi one night on their way home from practice. (y/n) on the other hand was noticeably nervous, today she was shaken up wondering all week who would be the one at the cherry tree today, and even what cherry tree. She was hopeful in thinking it was Aone and that he was the one who wanted to confess, but then she also worried it was him because she didn't know where to go and if she didn't find him in time, maybe  he would think she was rejecting him. Panicked thoughts filled her head all day about every single scenario she could possibly think of happening. 

Finally the end of the day had come, (y/n) headed outside to look for the cherry blossom tree, hoping not too many people were confessing today or it would be awkward. She said goodbye to yuki as she wished her luck on the way by. (y/n) had rushed around the school to the large patch of cherry blossom trees, no one was there. She looked down at her phone reading 3:26pm. She began to rush to the second large area where the cherry blossoms were, stil no one to be seen. She stood there thinking to herself where more could be. She looked down at the time again, 3:30, she's late. She remembered the tree close to the track field she sat under just last week after running from the gym. She began sprinting as fast as her legs could carry her. Seeing a tall boy in the distance under the tree starting to leave she started to feel tears in her eyes, from the guilt of being late. He began walking and with her vision slightly blurring from her tears she was unable to see who it was.

“Please wait! I'm sorry I went to the wrong trees! Please don’t leave!” She began shouting, the guy turned around just in time to be slammed into by a nervous girl. She fell straight on her butt as he reached his hand out to her. 

“This is the second time this has happened.” She looked up dumbfoundedly realising it was Aone talking as he helped her up. 

“I-I-I I’m so sorry Aone-Kun. I was trying to catch you before you left.” 

He just responded with a light laugh. She felt her heart flutter and so did he as she smiled back to his laugh. (y/n) remembered suddenly he called her here and got noticeably nervous again. Aone quickly noticed ushering her to sit beside him on the bench. 

“I got your letter.” He said. Her eyes widened as she stared at the ground. It was silent for a few minutes. (y/n) didn’t realise how nervous Aone is as she is watching the ground so intently. 

“I’m sorry for leaving it in your locker, if that why you called me out I can leave now, I didn't mean to upset you Aone-Kun, It wasn't my-” 

She was cut off by his adorable laughter once again. She looked up at him with her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Im… I’m just as nervous as you.” He stated as she tried to find a hint to his feelings in his stoic expression. 

“I like you (y/n), is what I’m trying to say.” He quickly turned away from her, now feeling his face heat up. (y/n)’s smile covered the bottom half of her face as she threw her arms around him with excitement. He looked down at her as his eyes grew bigger. 

“Ah- Im so sorry!” She said as she began to pull away. 

“Don’t be, I like it, (y/n).” He said with a soft smile as he pulled her into his arms. “Will you go out with me tomorrow at 5pm, on a d-date?” He asked as he held her. 

“Of course Aone. I would love to.” 

“Please call me Takanobu.”

She smiled up at him. He pulled his one arm away and passed her a letter from his pocket. She looked at him blushing as she accepted it from him. It was his original confession letter.

Note my art I just found it online :)

Masterlist

[doomednarrative]

I’m doing this for fun simply because I'm rewatching them all so,

Here's my personal ranking for Every Gorillaz Music video, based both on song and the video itself:

(This is going to be a long post)

PHASE ONE:

Tomorrow Comes Today: 7/10. I love this song and the video fits its vibe, but its still pretty simplistic and not a whole lot of actual animation and no story, so it gets points off for that.

Clint Eastwood: 10/10. I love this one honestly. Its still so charming after all this time and showcases the band well for their early days. Love the more moody tone of it, and I always love seeing the band actually play instruments in their videos too. Bonus points for Murdoc's laugh opening this one because I love that.

Rock The House: 9/10. Pure fun. I don't have a lot of commentary for it, I just think its fun and I love the song itself too. One point off for Murdoc thrusting his hips too many times for my eyes tho.

19-2000: 10/10. This one was the first Gorillaz video that I saw and it really is just a nice non plot connected video. The 3D animation still manages to hold up because of its mix with 2D animation in my opinion and I enjoy it.

Rockit: 5/10. I like the song but the video is kinda meh.

PHASE ONE MV'S OVERALL: Overall I like phase one and I miss Del. Bring him back.

PHASE TWO:

Dirty Harry: 8/10. 2D is just vibing so hard in this video and I'm living for it. That’s all that matters. (Side note but I love the version of this video they did for the BRIT's as well.)

DARE: 10/10. Noodles time to shine, a perfect song, what more could you ask for?? (Also love the bit with Murdoc at the end of course.)

Feel Good Inc: 10/10. This one is obvious if you know me at all. Murdoc playing his bass is what sells this one for me cause I enjoy the animation. The songs amazing and one I find comforting to listen to, and the mood of the video fits it perfectly. Theres some really fun shots with lighting while 2D is standing at the window too in the tower in here that I've always liked.

El Mañana: 6/10. I love this song but it makes me sad and so does the video.

PHASE TWO MV'S OVERALL: Phase One is iconic for its art style and for being The Beginning, but Phase Two is my favorite of the two for its art. I love how these videos are animated, and even if Demon Dayz is my least favorite album, the songs in these videos are all very good. Pretty solid as a whole all things considered.

PHASE THREE:

Stylo: 10/10 LISTEN, I KNOW SOME PEOPLE HATE THE CGI, BUT I LOVE IT. It’s so expressive, this song is one of my absolute faves, I’m sorry to be such a Murdoc liker but hes so much fun in this video and so expressive and it starts the story off for Plastic Beach. I love it so much.

On Melancholy Hill: 7/10. It’s not a bad video, and I love the song a lot, but...not a lot actually happens in the video aside from the bits with Noodle. Bonus points however go to just how seamlessly it puts 2D and 3D animation together, and for how cute 2D looks this whole video.

Rhinestone Eyes: 9/10. WOULD BE A 10/10 IF WE’D GOTTEN OFFICIAL ANIMATION FOR IT ;-; (The fan animated video for it tho is Very very good and i applaud that whole team.) Amazing song, this video has the most story packed into it so far from all the other videos and it’s memorable from its storyboards for that alone.

Doncamatic: 10/10 Listen...Listen I know its a one off and it doesn't really have anything in it but I’m obsessed because its one of my favorite Gorillaz songs tbh and I love Daley’s outfit in it so it gets a full pass from it.

PHASE THREE MV’S OVERALL: I love every video this phase tbh, none of them are bad. All of them are fun,and even if Melancholy Hill is a little slow, it’s still enjoyable. I love this phase because they all connect and I know I’m not the only one who feels that way either.

PHASE FOUR:

Hallelujah Money: 7/10. It’s not at all bad, but I’m as not fond of this song, and the video itself is much too trippy for me. Still has its own merits tho that I won’t knock it for even if it’s not my personal taste.

Saturn Barz: 10/10. Everything about this video is amazing. Character designs and as a comeback for the bands animated counterparts, it was perfect. I loved hearing them actually speak again too it made the whole thing so fun. The song is fuckin awesome and it fits the vibe of the whole video. Bonus points for the more lineless animation style they gave everyone in this video, it was a really neat change from past phases. My one complaint is again stop making me see so much naked Murdoc, I may like him but not like that.

Sleeping Powder: 6/10. I am so split when it comes to the mo cap models. This songs good but the video is again too trippy for me.

Strobalite: 9/10. Would have been 10/10 if Russel got to dance with 2D and Noodle, but other than that its pretty damn good. The mo cap looks way less awkward in here, particularly Murdoc and Russel. Also hilarious that Murdoc made a deal with the devil, and the guy who played him is actually his voice actor irl. This songs too much fun to vibe to as well.

PHASE FOUR MV’S OVERALL: Not much for story, but makes up for it in updated art and great music again. Solid overall yet again. I like it.

PHASE FIVE:

Humility: 20/10. Literally every single person I know who’s seen this video loved it. The animation is Beautiful, the song is so fuckin catchy, Jack Black is in it! What more do you want!! (The only thing I could have asked for was to see more of Ace but that’s its only flaw.)

Tranz: 9/10. I love this song so much but this video is Again just a little too trippy for me. However, we get to see Ace just jamming out in this video and I’ll take the trippiness just for that.

PHASE FIVE MV’S OVERALL: I was surprised there wasn't at least one more video for this phase honestly? I feel like Kansas or Souk Eye would have made for great videos for this phase. That aside tho, both the videos it does have are a lot of fun. My literal only complaint is that I wanted to see more of Ace. Bring him back in the future.

PHASE SIX:

Momentary Bliss: 8/10. This songs fine, but what sells it for me is the video is more slice of life/a day in the life of the studio. I’m always a fan of those moments. Bonus points goes to Murdoc trying to fuckin poison Jamie and it backfiring on him.

Désolé: 10/10: ooooh this song is so beautiful...I love it so much. 2D Noodle and Russel got to have such a fun time in this video and they deserve it. And poor Murdoc, having his little sad times by his asshole self. I love him but I think he deserved it. The others needed a good break from the bullshit and I’m glad they got it.

Aries: 6/10. Video itself is kinda boring, but the song is nice. Murdoc deserved to be left behind in Désolé after what he tried to pull here.

Friday the 13th: 3/10. I don’t care for this video and I really don’t care for the song. Not much else to say.

PAC-MAN: 6/10. Video’s fine, I like some of the little details in it, but it’s nothing special. The song itself is nice tho, super calming, I like it.

Strange Timez: 20/20 MY GOD I LOVE THIS ONE SO MUCH...VISUALS ARE SO FUN, I LOVE ROBERT SMITH SO I LOVE HIM IN HERE, ITS JUST A GOOD TIME ALL AROUND!

The Pink Phantom: 5/10 I just don’t really care for this song?? I like Elton John but I couldn’t get myself to like this one no matter how many times I’ve listened. 2D got to be happy in this video tho so I’ll give it a pass.

The Valley of the Pagans: 6/10. This song fuckin slaps but the video feels like a boring redo of 19-2000 except for it’s ending. It gets points for giving everyone Plastic Beach feelings at the end and hyping up the video after it.

The Lost Chord: 20/20. Y’all knew this was coming. This was something I’d BEEN hoping for story wise and I finally got it. Was it maybe a little rushed? Yes. But GOD it was such a nice thing to see them say “hey we’ve wrapped up this part of the story for good and want everyone to move on from it, so we’ve given it a properly acknowledged final send off.” And tangibly seeing everyone's emotions laid out about the island and their times there was very nice. And  I know Jamie and Damon have stated Murdoc is irredeemable, blah blah yes I know hes an asshole still, but I WILL think about Murdoc in this video and how he seemed actually regretful and what that means to me and the fact that it was no one else but 2D himself being the one to reach out to Murdoc in the end to save him until my dying breath, thank you very much. And this song?? Fuckin beautiful, it had those Plastic Beach vibes again and felt good for it’s send off song, I love it.

PHASE SIX MV’S OVERALL: I may be a little split on some of them and on Song Machine as a whole, but tbh I love the phase six art style so much and most times the videos were pretty good. Bringing back PB in the end was something I always wanted too so it really does get bonus points from me for that. I’m 50/50 on them overall. The great ones are great, and the meh ones are just kinda boring, so it evens out in the end.

STAND ALONE VIDEOS MENTION:

Do Ya Thing: 10/10. I’ve said before I love the 3D animation and the slice of life stuff, so this one’s obviously a favorite, and you really cant go wrong with an Andre 3000 feature either. 

Superfast Jellyfish: 3/10. This song is kinda fun but I don’t give a single shit about the music video.

Garage Palace: 8/10. Very fun pixel visuals for a change along with a killer song, super enjoyable.

So what’s my final verdict on Gorillaz and their long music video history?

Honestly for a group thats been going as long as they have, I dont think they have too many misses in their catalog. The ones that aren’t as fun are just kinda there, but the videos that really stand out stand out far above the ones that don’t hit the mark as well and in the end it all feels like a good balance. No band has a perfect video every time, but the ones that Gorillaz did well they did amazing on and I enjoy it immensely when that happens.

Sidenotes after watching all of those:

For the love of god please put Russel in the videos more, please, he deserves it and I would love to see him more.

On that note, BRING DEL BACK WITH HIM TOO!!

And speaking of characters to bring back, I want Ace to come back and join Murdoc sometimes, even if its only once or twice more, I need to see them interact PLEASE.

Last note but Jamie, please, I’m begging, show less of mostly naked or fully naked of Murdoc in future videos, we’ve had our fill by now.

[hardknifeplays]

Happy Friday The 13th!

Jason Voorhees x Gender-Neutral S/O          

Words : 2,3k+

Genre : Fluff, Angst

Warning : None

           Your activities are getting busier every day, especially after it is announced when the midterm exam will take place. You have to carefully think about how to manage your time well, to study, rest, and make time for your lover, Jason Voorhees.

           This week has been tough for you, so you decided to spend your weekend with Jason. You pack your books and stationery, change of clothes, toiletries, blankets, and some snacks. You put the items in your backpack, then walks out of the house and start getting into the car and drive to Camp Crystal Lake.

         The sky this afternoon is looking a little cloudy, it turns you into a bad mood. Moreover, also because you are stuck in traffic. Crystal Lake is located quite a distance from where you live, it takes about 3 hours to go there by car.

           You close your eyes while grunting in annoyance. You put your head on the steering wheel of the car, then gently tap the it with your fingers. You look up, and your eyes are fixed on the long line of cars in front of you. Shit, when will all of this end? You've been stressed enough lately, why is there still this traffic jam anyway?

         You looked at the clock on your cellphone. It's two-thirty in the afternoon. It should be a naptime for you, no wonder why you’re a little sleepy.

         The traffic slowly starts to move. You immediately rush to drive your car quickly. Shortly after, you started to enter the suburbs. There aren't many people around here. The trees are shady, and there is only one road that is not paved but not rocky either. This road will be very slippery when it rains because it can make your vehicle slip.

         You let out a sigh of relief and smile a little when you finally passed a wooden board that read 'Welcome to Crystal Lake'.

           Upon your arrival there, you park your car right next to the entrance. You get out of the car, put your two feet on the slightly dry soil of Crystal Lake. You look at the trees, and you just remember that it is autumn. Autumn is your and Jason's favorite season because the air is cool, not too hot, but not too cold either. Apart from that, the leaves and trees are all reddish-orange. Beautiful.

         You walk into the camp area. You miss the place since the last time you visited here, which was about three weeks ago. You did not go here for two weeks. You were pretty busy, so you were not sure if you could meet Jason. You're feeling a little scared. What if Jason gets mad at you? You promised him to come once a week, every weekend.

           There is the sound of dry leaves and broken branches when you step your feet, and you are completely stunned to see the view of the lake. The lake looks very peaceful, and you find some small animals running around in search of food supplies before hibernating in winter.

         You continue your footsteps to get to the cabin where Jason lives. He has made a path for you to walk that is clear from the bear traps. You're walking and holding the straps of your backpack, you're so excited and can't wait to meet Jason. You sing a little while chuckling and every time you see flying birds.

           “Jason!” You shout while waving your hands enthusiastically when you see the figure of a tall and large man sitting on a fallen tree trunk on the edge of the lake.

         Jason doesn't turn at you in the slightest.

         You lower your hand slowly, then feel uncomfortable and a bit strange. You look down, walks slowly and carefully approached him.

         “Jason? I—” Your words are interrupted when Jason points towards his cabin which is located not far from where you are standing now. He doesn't even look at you when he gives you a gesture to go to the cabin.

         Seeing his unfamiliar and cold reaction like that feels painful to you. You walk towards his cabin, open the door, put your backpack, and sit on the old sofa that was in the middle of the room. You're sure this must have something to do with your absence for two weeks.

           “Dammit,” you whispered to yourself. You feel very guilty for not telling Jason about your exam schedule. You left for two weeks without a word, you must have made him worried a lot. You have prepared yourself if after this Jason will be mad at you and not want to see you again.

           You look up and find that Jason is not sitting on the fallen tree trunk anymore. You shake your head several times before closing your eyes tightly. You have no energy even just to step on your feet, out and search for him. You leaned your back against the sofa.

           “I would go if he really tells me to go,” you muttered softly, looking at the emptiness in front of you. You lay down, find a comfortable position, then decide to sleep on the sofa.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

           You open your eyes slowly, your deep sleep is disturbed because you heard a noise. Everything looks blurry, and oh, it's raining. Trying to keep your eyes open, you stroked your arms slowly. It's cold.

           Clack.

            Jason put a glass of warm herbal tea on the table. He stands in front of you and watching you in silence. You immediately get up from your sleep, then sit on the sofa. You look back at Jason tensely. You don't want to say anything other than thanking him for making you tea.

Jason may not be the smartest student in his school, but this boyfriend of yours is really good at learning things. Everything he can do—build and fix the cabin and its furniture, understand the cabling system, make herbal teas, grow crops—is self-taught. And let's be honest, you're very proud of him.

           Jason walks toward you, then rests himself beside you. He lets out a deep breath, not taking his eyes off you at all. You're sipping the tea, and the taste is not bad? It's enough to warm your body. You're tapping the glass with your finger, getting nervous.

           “Jason, I'm sorry,” you said, looking at Jason. Jason doesn't give you any response, indicating that he allows you to continue. “I, I have midterm exams for two weeks, so I didn't come to visit you. The last time I came here, I forgot to tell you this. So I thought I've made you worried," you explain to him. 

           He nods. Yes, you have made him upset and worried.

           Jason then stretches out his arms and pulls your body closer to him. You let him do that, and now you're in his embrace. You bury your face in his chest, feel the rising and falling of his breath. “I'm sorry,” you say. Jason hugs you tight and strokes your back lightly. “This week has been quite chaotic for me, and I didn't even think about coming here and spending time with you.”

           Jason loosens his hug and lifts your chin softly. He looks into your eyes, and you look exhausted. Then he tilts his head slightly. “Well, my exam went… smooth enough. I know I didn't get an A but I think that next week there will still be a lot of assignments and exams to go through, and I don't know if I could visit you or not,” you say, staring at Jason while resting your head against his chest.

           You notice Jason's eyes sparkle and he holds you even tighter. Jason doesn't care about your grades on exams. What he worries about is if you become stressed because of your exam. But after hearing your story and you said that your exam was going well, he gives you a few gentle pats on your head as a reward.

           “Oh, the head pats are the reward for me?” you ask, smiling widely. Jason gives you a brief nod and goes back to pat your head a few times. You let out a chuckle that is so refreshing to Jason's ears. During your absence, all Jason heard was the sound of small animals and silence. Jason misses you, and he realizes that you are very important to him. “Thank you, handsome,” you reply, giving a little kiss on Jason's forehead.

           The rain outside is getting heavier, and you just cuddle in silence with Jason. He pulled out a blanket and covered both of you. You smirk at him, you have a plan. You sneak your hands into the blanket and try to tickle Jason, and oh my God, you can hear Jason chuckle! Your boy is so ticklish, you couldn't help but keep tickling him.

           “Ah, who gave you the right to be this cute?” you say, stop tickling Jason and give him a boop in his nose. Jason immediately looking down to hide his face, and you can be sure that his cheeks are now flushing red. He is very embarrassed every time you praise him, and he puts his hands together to cover his face. Seeing his reaction, you laugh instantly. You take both of his hands and put them away from his face, and lift his hockey mask a little to give him a soft kiss on the lips.

           “You always bite my lip whenever we kiss. What a biter. I'm afraid if someday you'll steal my lips away,” you say as you let go of your kiss and grin softly. Jason rubs the nape of his neck, please forgive him as he's not used to kissing!

           You two are cuddling and squeezing each other. From a distance, both of you look like a kangaroo and its cub. Jason covers your entire body with a blanket because he's so worried that you will get cold, and it makes you look like a kangaroo cub in its mother's pouch.

           Jason glances at you in his arms, oh my. You look very attractive to him. No matter how tall you are, your figure will always be smaller than him, and it makes him want to always protect you. But if you happens to be taller than him, Jason would try to hug and protect you too. He doesn't care about your height, the only thing he cares about is the fact that you make him comfortable. You are willing to take care of him, even become his partner, what can he ask for more? You are truly a blessing for this man.

           He touches your shoulder with his index finger twice to get your attention back. You turn to him with a smile and raised an eyebrow.

           “Ma-ma?” said Jason, his voice almost a whisper that was barely audible in the rain. You look at him for a moment and blink twice. “You want to meet your mother?” you ask, and he nods. “Okay, let's visit Pamela. I miss her too!” you said, removing the blanket that wrapped your body and clutching Jason's index finger. You two walk towards the room where Jason keeps his mother's head.

           “Hi, Pamela. It’s Friday, and I miss you,” you said, before finally sitting next to Jason and facing Pamela's severed head. The two of you sit in quietness for a few moments.

           Jason rises from his seat first, then you follow him. You step out of the cabin to see if it's still raining or not. And as it turns out, the rain has stopped, leaving behind the smell of earth and grass, and also the cool air that you like. You took a deep breath as if you wanted to take in all the scent of nature. Your mood feels a lot better.

           It is half-past seven in the evening. Time flies so fast, but it doesn't matter because you spend it curled up comfortably in the blankets with Jason.

           You sit on the stairs of Jason's cabin porch and enjoy the sound of insects and frogs shouting to each other. It sounds like they’re having a mini-war. This place gives peace to your mind which has been a mess lately.            You hear a footstep approaching, and look back. Jason standing at the door and leaning himself against it. You greet him with a smile and reach out your hand to him, which he gladly takes and Jason places himself one ladder below you. His head rests on one of your knees, and he takes your hand and puts it on his chest.

           “I want to sing for you,” you say spontaneously, in a whisper. Jason turns to look at you, his thumb gently rubbing your palm. You smile and kiss his forehead. "But my voice is disgusting," you continue and laugh. Jason shakes his head quickly, and he gives you a thumbs up, encouraging you to sing for him. Jason always thinks that your voice sounds so lovely compared to his voice, which is barely there.

           “Okay, okay. I hope you like this song,” you said, clearing your throat before you start to sing.

 Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like

On a Jupiter and Mars

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, baby, kiss me

             Your voice sounds so calming to his ears, accompanied by the singing of insects. You paused to kiss his head slightly, then continue your singing.

Fill my heart with song

And let me sing for ever more

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore

In other words, please be true

In other words,

I love you

           Jason gives you a round of applause, you can see his eyes beams lightly from the big smile behind his mask. Jason rise from his seat then lifts you up in bridal style. You can only laugh out loud seeing him do that to you, and he looks very happy!

           You look at Jason and cupping his cheeks. Everything feels better with the two of you being there for each other. You kiss his mask one more time.

           “Happy Friday The 13th, my love.”

[indestinatus]

2, 3, 15, 22.

thank you for always asking, my friend. may you be blessed.

2. Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

I actually had one in mind which is enemies to lovers but now I’m finally writing it so YAAAY Tony and Ziva really have so much specific traits that could easily be turned into a hate to lust to love story, I’m really having a blast :’)

3. Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

Yes and that is genderswap. Not for me, but I’ve been here in the 2010s and fanfic reading/sharing was an incredible and dangerous place. 

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

I’m gonna say any about the three musketeers shenanigans, because I really do miss them and any extra footage of them would warm my heart. So Spooky Season, Graveyard Shift, or Friday the 13th. 

OH MIDWAY THROUGH WRITING THIS I THOUGHT OF ONE

OF COURSE the NCIS 17x11: the ending we deserved because c’mon. 

22. Choose a passage from one of your earlier fics and edit it into your current writing style. (Person sending the ask is free to make suggestions).

that’s so interesting ohh this was my very first work about ncis in nov/2019 (about what could’ve happened in season 17 if tony was in danger, making a parallel with 7x01 - I know, I know, we were clowns back then):

The black and white screen shows Ziva smiling, but sad.

The episode opens with Ziva being dragged into a room, with untidy hair, ragged clothes, and bloody skin. Her hands are tied behind her back and a man is speaking in a foreign language to another one in the dark.

She is silent but her eyes are scanning the room, looking for possible exits.

He then forces her to a chair, in front of another prisoner also tied up. A man wearing a hood that covers his whole face and is visibly weak. Blood spots the front of his worn shirt.

“Take it off of him,” said the man who had taken her there.

We can hear the sound of the hood being lifted but the camera only focuses on Ziva’s face. A single tear spills down her cheek.

“Do you know her?” asks him to the victim tied up.

The camera then shifts to reveal that the man is Tony. His eyes water, but he locks his jaw and manages not to cry.

“Never seen her. But she’s pretty,” he says, with his typical playful grin, “Care to introduce me to this sweetcheeks?”

Ziva is now silently crying, but a small smile appears on her lips.

The screen goes black and white.

so let’s rewrite it:

Her arm muscles burn like hell, but as much as Ziva tries to get the blood flowing, she physically cannot. 

The ropes are too tight. 

There’s no strength left. A single name echoes in the back of her mind, but that’s it. The rest is hollow. After what could’ve been hours or even days without food or drink, her body feels and moves like it’s made out of concrete. 

She is close to giving up, and she knows that. Mossad has taught her that everyone has a breaking point, and she knows her own. Ziva knew that were more risks than hopes of this operation succeeding, but there was no choice.

If there was a possibiltity of that shot in the dark hitting its mark, she would die there if she must. 

Ziva keeps her eyes closed. She has long memorized that room now, and there’s no use in trying to see in the shadows. Focusing on the sounds, she can picture things more clearly.

Orders being screamed from afar. The creak of a rusty gate swinging shut. Footsteps coming closer, maybe a group of three. 

A man barks orders to another one as they storm into her cell, speaking in a foreign language Ziva only partly recognizes. One of them grabs her shoulders and pulls her up in a second, and a flicker of a rational thought passes her mind.

She’s being moved. 

Ziva is too weak to fight back, but bile comes to sting her tongue. She knows what it means. It means consequences. The circumstances are so similar to what happened in Somalia, she figured it all out before they even locked her up. As soon as they tied her wrists, she knew that was a point of no return. 

It wasn’t the same, though.

No, even if it looked the same, and felt the same and even smelt the same - Ziva wasn’t the same. Yes, she knew that this could be it - the ending, the goodbye - but she also went there with a purpose. She has a reason now, and a meaningful one. She chose, and would choose, to fight.

Because now, there was something she could lose. 

The men grab her arms too tight, but Ziva’s pleased. At least she can feel something. They walk briskly, and her feet stumble until she’s practically being dragged to another location, though she’s busy memorizing the route. It’s essential to know her way back. 

A door opens as quickly as it closes, and they drop her onto a chair that almost falls to the ground. Listening to barks of orders, Ziva finds that there are more people inside this room - which is not fortunate. She needs to know why. 

A light flickers above her head and Ziva blinks, the pounding ache just under her eyes returning. She feels nauseated with the smell of the room - human sweat and blood, heat closing it all in - but she forces herself to breathe. 

They continue to scream all around her, and Ziva notices that it is in fact a discussion. Something is not right. Part of them doesn’t want her to be there.

She’s still trying to put their words together when someone pulls her hair down, forcing her to look up. Her scalp burns and Ziva protests, but she’s too tied up. It hurts more than helps. 

That’s when she feels the cold. Such a stone, chilling cold that makes her heart stop, then gallop inside her chest. It goes through her spine and makes her sit still. 

There’s another prisoner sitting right in front of her. 

He’s got a hood over his head and blood spots on his shirt. 

She knows who he is. 

One of the men yanks out the hood, and Ziva can’t breathe. For a moment, she thinks he's dead.

“Do you know her?” barks someone in the dark, the voice laced in anger.

Tony blinks. Ziva doesn’t. 

He’s alive. He’s alive. He’s alive.

“Never seen her,” Tony replies, swallowing dry. He looks to have been here for the same time as her, the bags under his eyes and his cracked lips telling her so. 

Someone forces Tony’s head to look straight ahead, and the man who appears to be a leader among them repeats his question with chilling despise. 

“Do you know her?”

Tony smiles faintly, and the image is so familiar Ziva feels as if she’s dreaming. She thought she had lost that smile for good. 

“Y'might want to run a check-up on that hearing. I just said I don’t know her.”

“Then think again. You might want to change that answer.”

Tony swallows, and his smile dies. Ziva can see him thinking carefully, but she keeps her face as impassive as possible.Things could go really wrong.

“She’s pretty, though. Past the black eye and torn lip and blood stains, that is.” 

Tony shoots a look to the leader Ziva doesn’t see it as wise. The sparkle in his eyes though, is directed at her, and Ziva has to force herself not to react when Tony smiles with all the recklessness she’d come to know him with.

“Care to introduce me to this sweetcheeks?”

this was so so so fun!!! thank you <3

fanfic asks

[honestlyfragile]

Jinxed - Bang Chan

Pairing: Bang Chan x Female reader

Genre: fluff, crack, winter!au

Wc: 3.1k

Summary: Chan had always had a thing for knick knacks, and you’re just right on season. But are refunds possible? Or will he just have to deal with being… jinxed?

Your novelty shop was a tradition passed onto your family for decades. It was open all year round but since Christmas was around the corner, it was more active than ever. You sold items that were brand new, and some antiques that were either donated, or preserved stocks that haven’t been sold in years.

Ever since winter break, your mother certainly took the chance of asking you to watch the store this time, and you couldn’t really turn her down. Besides. it wasn’t that hard to do so. You would just punch the items on the cash register, then it’s sold. Pretty easy, right? Except for when customers have way too many questions. Especially for the antique items. Questions that go as far as the origin of the item, which you should know of. Gladly, every single donated item had its own story to tell.

It was a few minutes before your lunch break, but just as you were going to put up the “On Lunch Break” sign, a boy with ash blonde hair with a faded brown undertone wearing a thick, black leather jacket with a red knitted scarf entered the store. His eyes slowly wandering from left to right as soon as the chimes on the door tingled. You sigh, but you had to entertain them. Your lunch could wait.

“Good day! How can I help you?” You smile.

“Uh, yes good day to you too,” he awkwardly greets, and you give him a nod.

“Looking for anything in particular?”

“Oh i was hoping to buy a snow globe.” He rubs his cold hands together, his pale skin turning red.

“We have a lot of those here, do you prefer new ones or antiques?” You suggest.

“Antiques? Those seem cool, they are still in good condition, right?”

“Of course they are. Let me show you where it is.” You exit the cash register and lead him into the section of the well preserved antique snow globes. “Some of these go way back fifty years ago. But they are a bit pricier the older they are.” You give him a heads up.

“That should be fine. Fifty years you say? May I take a look at that?” His eyes light up, you start to think that maybe he did have a thing for collecting these kind.

You scan the selection and carefully reach for the one that had an intricately carved bronze base, while the globe had a small Christmas village on it. With both hands, you hand it over for him to observe.

“Wow.” He lightly shakes it to make the snow flakes float around. “May I know the origins of this one?” He says, eyes still glued to the knick knack.

“That one is from England. It was donated to us.”

“Interesting. How much is it?” He looks at you this time, and notices your nametag.

You couldn’t help but smile back at the excitement of this boy. “It’s a hundred and fifty dollars.”

His eyes widen, but doesn’t complain. “Consider it sold.”

You carefully take the item from him, and go back to the cash register. You get it a nice box and tie it with a red ribbon, for the design and security of the package. “Here you go, thank you for the purchase.” You smile and hand it to him.

“Thank you, ____.” He smiles, turns his back and leaves the store. You could finally have your lunch.

It was kind of him to have taken note of your name, but you never really got his. But he was just a customer anyways.

----

Chan arrived home and ever so carefully took out the item he had purchased from your store. He lightly tugs on the red ribbon that you had beautifully knotted around the box, and they slowly fall on the sides. He opens it and cautiously slips his quite large hands into the box, and he could barely fit it inside. Still, he tried to grip the glass ball and once he had gotten a hold of it, he flips it over with care. Bothered by the fingerprints that he left on it, he took it with both hands and fogged up the glass with his warm breath. He wipes it with his sweater paws and it went back to its crystalline form. Satisfied, he shakes it to make the snowflakes float around and places it on his bedside table, where his lamp shade was also located.

He smiles, pleased with what he just acquired, which he thought was a rare item. It was, and he had absolutely no idea what it might bring him.

----

The weather was more frigid than usual, it was zero close to negative. He had checked all of his windows if they were tightly shut, and they were. He shudders, and rubs his palms together and warms it with his breath. He tries to turn the heat up, because the temperature indoors most certainly wouldn’t do.

“What the heck?” He fumbles with the heater, which didn’t want to turn on. Even if it was very much plugged into the mounted outlet on the wall. He unplugs it, then plugs again. But it still didn’t work. “The power couldn’t be out, the lights are fine, the others are working too..” he pouts and scratches the back of his head.

Setting aside the busted appliance, he thought that maybe he could just eat and drink something warm, like hot chocolate and some spicy ramen. He pours hot water onto his mug and mixes in the dark cocoa powder and adds two tablespoons of brown sugar. The scent and aroma kissing his nose. He lifts the mug onto his lips, and carefully takes a sip— it was too hot. He got startled because his tongue got stung by the burning sensation, and at the same time, some of the drink has also spilled on his clothes. “Shit.” He mumbles, frustrated. He couldn’t even enjoy a cup of hot chocolate without something unfortunate happening. Maybe his luck with making ramen would be fine, he’s done this a hundred times, what could possibly go wrong?

Now more cautious than ever with his actions, he gets a cooking pot and fills it halfway with water. He grips it tightly, just in case the water would want to suddenly leap out of the pot, right? Safe. The pot made it to the top of the stove, and he sighs in relief. He turns up the heat, setting it to high and impatiently waited for it to boil. He was freezing.

Chan had his own way of making ramen, he learned it from a former room mate. He puts the seasoning powder first and lets it simmer before he boils the noodles. He was doing so well until the gas stove had suddenly just stopped heating the food. The fire had disappeared, and his noodles weren’t even soft enough to be eaten yet. He tries to stay calm, and turns the knob of the stove over and over again, but no sign of ignition. He ran out of gas.

“You have got to be kidding me.” his palms rest on the marble counter, the cold sensation hitting his skin and he flinches. He curses to himself, he has never been this unlucky before.

He had no choice, he couldn’t just throw the meal away. He got his electric kettle and hoped that the noodles would continue to cook there. He transfers the half cooked ramen to the small opening of the kettle and it slightly spills on the side, but thankfully, he made it work.

“Who eats ramen that was cooked in a electric kettle? Psh.” He shakes his head in disbelief, but eats it anyways.

As he quietly tried to enjoy his meal, his head uplifts to look at his wall calendar, thinking that it might have been Friday the 13th or he might have stepped on a crack on the pavements on his way home. His bad luck had to come from somewhere. And to his surprise, it was. December 13th, 2019, Friday. And for once, he had believed that it all made sense. It was just Friday the thirteenth.

-----

Chan woke up the next day, not sure if he felt lucky or not. The first thing he does is get his phone from his side table, his eyes barely even opened. Before he could even read the time, his phone drops on his face, and hits his nose, hard. “Jesus!” He rubs the bridge of his nose, now quite red from the impact of the gadget. He runs his hands through his hair and carefully stands and stretches. He walks over to a safe spot, making sure that his limbs won’t knock anything over. He successfully does his push-ups. He walks over to the blank wall beside his desk and does a handstand. So far, so good. He huffed, and does a couple handstand push-ups, then carefully plops down.

He heads over to his desk to shake the snow globe that he bought, takes his small time admiring the details of what was inside, then sets it down once again. He goes to the bathroom and washes his face with a cleanser as he lathers it lavishly. By the time that he tried to turn on the sink again, there wasn’t any water coming out of it. He opens his eyes as a reflex, totally forgetting that he still has soap in his eyes, causing it to sting. And as another reflex, he rubs his eyes only to find out that the hand he used was covered in foam as well. He stomps his foot, nothing has ever went his way ever since he got home from your store. The only way that he could possibly remove all the residue on his face was to use the drinking water he had, which was an absolute waste. As the saying goes, “When ill luck begins, it does not come in sprinkles but in showers.”

Chan started to think that maybe something else had been bringing him this horrible luck. Many Friday the thirteenths have passed in his whole 23-year old life but he has never had it this bad. Actually, he could not recall the last time where he was running out of luck. Chan wasn’t the type of person to believe in superstitions that much, but the shower of unfortunate events made him believe that it wasn’t just all a coincidence.

He sat in front of his desk, plopping down on his swiveling chair. He runs his hands through his hair and goes in deep thought. Again he glances at the snow globe. He crosses his arms. “Could it be?” he shakes his head, “no, no, it can’t it’s a snow globe what can it possibly do?” He pauses. “But what if it is? Should i go back and ask for a refund or would that be too stupid?” He raises his eyebrows and puts his hand under his chin. He was literally having a conversation with himself at this point and it was hilarious.

He abruptly stands up, causing him to get dizzy. He rubs his temples and proceeds to grab his coat, he was going back to your store. He got the box that was used for the snow globe and even the ribbon, of course he didn’t know how to tie it as good as you did, nonetheless he tried to get the package to the original stage that it was in.

It had been snowing a handful outside but it was still safe to drive. He places the package on the passenger’s seat and even blocks it with a seatbelt. “It could have been you. You’re the one who’s bringing me bad luck. You can’t fool me with how good you look.” He glances over the item, and proceeds to drive. The light had been yellow and he tried to beat it, unfortunately he was caught and halted onto the side. He was given a driving ticket. His bad luck was a whole avalanche.

He arrives at the store, practically storming in. You were surprised to see the boy again, but the smile on his face has definitely vanished. “May I help you?” you look at him, puzzled.

He arrives at the counter and sets down the item. “Yes i would like a refund.”

“We don’t do refunds sir I’m sorry. But is the item damaged? Why would you want to make a refund?” You questioned, surprised because no one has ever asked a refund from your store, for as far as you could remember.

“No, it’s perfectly fine. Physically.” He looks down on his feet, his ears turn red.

“Then I don’t seem to understand the problem here sir.” You were still very much confused.

“It’s just, i don’t want it anymore.” He stutters and purses his lips in embarrassment, he couldn’t get himself to say that it was because he thought that it was bringing him bad luck.

“I told you, we don’t do refunds. And what’s with the reason that you have? That’s not very sensible.” You raise your eyebrows, like you knew that he wasn’t telling you something.

“Please I can’t really take this thing home anymore” he pleads but it was still very much ineffective.

“Not until you tell us why you don’t want it anymore. I clearly remember how excited you were when you got it.” You look at him in disbelief.

“It brings me bad luck!” he blurts out, and bites his lips. He fidgets with his cuticles.

“It what?” you couldn’t help but laugh, and you knew that it was impolite to do so. But it didn’t make sense to you at all. But you purse your lips right away.

“You heard me. I’m not saying it again.” He looks down, his ears red from being flustered, and fidgets with his cuticles once again.

“Okay let’s have a deal then, you leave that item here for a day and see if anything changes. Also, if you don’t come back then I won’t be giving you your money.” You shrug, hoping to have made a decent deal with this bothered young man.

He takes a deep breath and doesn’t make eye contact. As if he did not want to agree. “Fine.” he finally lets out, and you smile.

“So it’s settled then?” You get the package from him and store it somewhere for safe keeping. You could not believe you had just agreed to this boy’s request. He was cute anyways, totally harmless.

Instantly, Chan was in a better mood. He just felt like he was lucky again, or at the very least he was back to normal. He smiles at you, and for the first time, it was blinding. Like the whole atmosphere of the store has changed. You were stunned, you could barely hear what he was saying.

He waves his hands in front of your face, and you snap out of it. “___ hello?” He calls you by your name once again and you swear it has never sounded that good. “I’ll be coming back yeah? Thanks for letting me work out this situation of mine.” He clicks his tongue, and winks. Before you knew it, he was out of your store.

-----

It was something about him returning the item that made you feel a sudden change, whether it was in you or amongst your surroundings. For some reason, you have looked forward to seeing him again, when back then you could not have cared less. Getting a crush on a customer wasn’t so practical now, was it?

Business is booming today. You watch people go in and out of the shop but the one person you hoped to see didn’t come. You anticipated his return because for the first time, you looked forward to working your shift. But you still never got his name. Good old no name.

But just when you were about to wrap things up and close the store, he catches up to the entrance. He breathes heavily and pants, the white December air escaping is lips. His throat is dry, so he swallows before he speaks. “Look, wait is it too late to get that refund?”

You sigh, you were about to lock the door already. “Well, technically yes. But since you made the effort, i’ll go and open for a bit again.” You try to hide your smile as you turn your back, but you knew that he did the same. The lights were back on and you head to the register. “So, were you lucky today?” you laugh, as if it were to be teasing him of his absurd reason yesterday.

“Y-yeah. Pretty lucky. I mean look i made it whole today.” He straightens his coat and brushes off the snow.

“If you were lucky, you wouldn’t have been late today.” you chaff, shaking your head.

“That’s a different story okay! I had to attend to something” he reasoned out.

He was adorable. You couldn’t deny that. But you loved to see him all defensive. “Okay, fine. Here you go. I’m not telling my mother about this refund so let’s just pretend it never happened or else i’ll get in trouble.” You take the cash out of the register and hand it to him.

“Your mother? Why?” He asks out of curiosity.

“We own the place so yeah. This is basically breaking the rules…” you trail off. “Anyways. I guess i won’t be seeing you again since the whole thing is sorted out now.” You don’t exactly know if you shoot your shot with what you just said.

“Who says we’ll just see each other here?” he smirks and you were taken back. Your cheeks flush bright red. He caught on.

“I work here, not really much free time with me.” you fumble with the closest thing you could get your hands on, which was a pen with a red fuzzy ball on top.

“I’m going to test my luck one last time today” He rubs his hands together and takes a deep breath.

“Huh?”

“Where are you going after this? Like after you close the store.”

“Uh, home?”

“Do you want to… perhaps get some coffee with me? Or hot chocolate, only if you’d like.” He smiles, and you’re weak on the knees.

“I’d love to.” Your cheeks were flushed but you didn’t care, he actually asked you out!

“Well I guess that’s enough luck for today. Shall we go?” He offers, but you had one last question in mind.

“I don’t even know your name.” You playfully roll your eyes and cross your arms.

“Chan. Or Chris, or… cutie whatever floats your boat.” He giggles and it was music to your ears.

[i-choose-the-danger]

Mischief Managed

I know, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything. I’ve had this idea playing around in my head for a while. I love the MCU’s version of the Cloak of Levitation and how it bonded with Strange throughout the MCU films so far. I like to think that it has a very playful side that it never got a chance to explore with its previous masters. That and there are barely any t-fics out there involving Strange. We need more of those! So I hope this inspires some of you writers out there. <3 And yes, I know the title is Harry Potter-related… and I solemnly swear that this cloak is definitely up to no good. ;)

Stephen had been alone in his room for over an hour. He had gone there to meditate without being disturbed so he could calm his mind and body, as he often did after studying or training. This time he found himself unable to concentrate. The Cloak of Levitation had been following him around the Sanctum for nearly three days straight and at the moment it was floating right beside him. The cloak had never been this clingy before and he needed answers. Stephen wandered the Sanctum until he finally found Wong in one of the artifact rooms.

“Something troubling you, Strange?” Wong asked. The look on Stephen’s face worried him. 

“What can you tell me about the Cloak of Levitation?” Stephen looked over his shoulder and back to Wong. “I understand it’s a sentient being, but I don’t get why it’s so attached to me. It’s been my shadow for days and it’s weirding me out.”

Wong chuckled, clasping his hands behind his back as he exited the room and walked down the hall. He gestured with a nod of his head for Strange to follow. They walked in silence until they reached the library.

“What is it you wish to know?” Wong asked as he turned down an aisle. 

“The Ancient One looked uncomfortable when she saw me with it. She called it fickle, as if it wasn’t normal to connect with someone like me. Mordo didn’t believe me when I told him what happened either.” Stephen flexed his fingers out and curled them into fists a few times. All of his nerves seemed to be on edge. 

“What can you remember about the day it came to you?”

“I walked by its cabinet. It was just floating in there. Actually, I felt like it was looking at me. When I was fighting with Kaecilius, he knock- we crashed through the cabinet. He went to stab me with whatever the hell weapon he had, and I saw the cloak reach out and catch it before it got to me.” Stephen thought back to the day the Sanctum was attacked. It made him feel uneasy. He crossed his arms over his chest and clenched them as he spoke. “It kept fending him off and then it kept me from breaking my neck. It just grabbed onto me and stopped me from falling. I thought it was just trying to fight Kaecilius or defend the Sanctum by using me, but…”

“Now you realize that it chose to stay with you for a reason. And you question its judgment.” Wong skittered his fingers across a line of books. The whole shelf and its books were coated in a layer of dust that dissipated as he touched each book. “Ah, here it is.” He pulled a fairly heavy volume from the shelf with both hands and passed it to Stephen.

“What’s this, an instruction manual?” Stephen blew the dusty coating off of the book and cleared his throat. His eyes squinted to avoid the particles he’d set free as he read the title. “Mystical Beings, Ancient Relics, and Lost Dialects – A Collection. Just a good coffee table book you happen to have laying around?”

“The answers you seek will be in there. I’ll leave you to it then.” Wong turned towards the doorway and began to walk away.

“Wait, where are you going? What if I have questions?” Stephen thumbed through the stack of pages and looked to his friend with a sigh. “Can’t you just tell me a page number or something?”

“You have quite a bit of reading to do. We never stop being students, Stephen. Even a master of the Mystic Arts will always have things to learn.” Wong disappeared down the hall.

“You know, if I wanted nonsense like that, I’d open a fortune cookie,” Stephen grumbled to himself. He cradled the book open in one arm and casually flipped through a few pages. This book looked more like a journal. Most of the pages contained handwritten entries instead of printed spells, giving first-hand detailed accounts of battles and encounters with other mystical creatures. There were many pages dedicated to experiences with different relics, but nothing about the Cloak of Levitation in particular. Stephen sighed, suddenly feeling that he was being watched.

“May I help you?” Stephen asked aloud without looking up from the book. He heard the distinctive ruffling of the cloak’s material behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he could see the garment swaying somewhat anxiously. He kept his focus the book and continued to flip through pages as he paced up and down the aisle. The cloak trailed closely behind him, continuing to float from side to side in an attempt to get his attention. The quicker Stephen walked, the more rapidly the cloak fluttered to keep up. Stephen stood still and closed his eyes. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out a slow heavy breath. “I’m trying to concentrate. Unless you know how to read this book and can tell me what page to flip to, I need you to give me some space.” He watched the cloak instantly wilt and its collar hang forward. “Don’t be like that. Come on.” He started to walk again and turned down another aisle. “I swear, you’re worse than an antsy puppy,” he said under his breath. Stephen felt a sharp poke at his side, causing him to tense up. “Hey!” He placed the open book down onto the table beside him shortly before a poke was felt on his other side. This time he flinched. “What is the matter wi- AH!” Stephen received a poke on both of his sides simultaneously before he could finish his question. “Cut it out!” 

Book back in hand, Stephen walked around a bookshelf and down another aisle. He heard the flutter of fabric and felt his heart begin to pound. This was getting out of hand now. He immediately opened a portal to another room of the Sanctum. Cradling the book under his arm, the sorcerer stepped through the portal and closed it before the cloak could reach him. What he didn’t realize was that the cloak had seen what room the portal was leading to before it closed.

“Christ, this is like a bad horror movie.” Stephen looked around, thinking of where else he could hide just to get a few minutes of peace to read. And then he heard it, what became his equivalent to the **ch-ch-ch-ah-ah-ah** sounds from the Friday the 13th films. Rustle, rustle, rustle. Beginning to panic, Stephen opened another portal into a different room of the Sanctum. He couldn’t concentrate enough to open one anywhere outside of the building. Thankfully, he was able to get into the next room and close the portal before he was seen.

Stephen found himself in a nearly empty room surrounded by some more bookshelves, a few boxes, and a few stray pieces of furniture. He just needed a safe space to read. A safe space, that’s it. I’m an idiot, he thought. With a wave of his hand, Stephen opened an entrance into the mirror dimension and stepped through it. No one would be able to see him, especially the cloak. He sat on the floor and crossed his legs, setting the book in his lap. He had only read through a handful of pages when he saw something move in his peripheral vision. He looked up.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Stephen’s overprotective relic was floating around the room. He knew that it couldn’t see him, so he attempted to focus on reading the book. The cloak floated right by his face and made him flinch. “Christ!” Again, he tried to read through another page. After barely scanning through a paragraph, Stephen realized that the cloak was circling him. Stephen buried his face in his hands, exhaling sharply through his fingers. Was he wrong? Could it see him from outside the mirror dimension? It didn’t matter. He couldn’t keep his focus on anything under these conditions. He stood slowly and exited the safety of the mirror dimension.

The cloak immediately swirled around its master and securely wrapped itself around his waist. Stephen dropped the book on a table and lightly patted the fabric. He waited a few seconds to be released. When the cloak refused to let him go, the sorcerer started to worry. His palms gently pushed at the cloak. “Okay, personal space. You can let go now.” He pushed at it again, and then paused. “Oh no. No. Stop that.” Stephen felt the cloak deliver light pokes to different spots around his waist. “Enou-HAH!” He didn’t mean to, but he let a short laugh escape his lips. The cloak unraveled itself from around his waist and floated from side to side above him in an offensive but playful stance, ready to strike again. “This isn’t funny! I will put you back in that cabinet!” The sorcerer pointed a scolding finger at the relic. The cloak wildly snapped out at all ends, showing what Stephen took to be a combination of shock and possibly anger. Its two lower corners shook violently before the entire fabric became a blur of crimson speeding straight for Stephen. “Oh shit.” He put two shaking hands up in defense as he stepped back to brace for impact. “I didn’t mean that.” The cloak stopped a mere few inches from his face. “Really. I’m sorry.” He watched the relic lean its collar from side to side, assuming that it was thinking over his apology. A few seconds later, the fabric whirled around him and settled on his shoulders, nuzzling the corners of its collar against his cheeks. Strange sighed and dropped his arms. “Alright, settle down now. It’s okay. Just don’t poke me any-HEY!” The cloak was in far too playful a mood for his liking and getting dangerously close to learning something about its master that he wished to remain unknown. 

Stephen lifted his arms and crossed his wrists just under his chin in an attempt to start a barrier spell, but the cloak was too smart and too quick. Before he could bring his hands down, his upper body had been wrapped and restrained almost like a mummy within the folds of the cloak. Strange’s eyes widened when he saw the lower corners of fabric rising up near his sides. Now he truly panicked.

“This is ridiculous. You’re supposed to obey me and I order you to let me go and stop this nonsense.” Stephen immediately regretted making his demand. This time, the cloak did not poke him. It launched a full skittering assault up and down both sets of his ribs. The sorcerer screamed. He bent forward and tried desperately to pull his arms free. He could feel laughter bubbling in his chest. “Don’t!” 

Continuing to panic, Stephen pushed one of his sides up against a chair in an attempt to block the attack. This only caused the cloak to double its efforts. It folded its fabric into small claws and vibrated them under Stephen’s ribs. He couldn’t fight off the tickling sensations any longer and laughter began sneaking through his lips.

“Sssstohohop!” The velvet claws changed their positions and moved to his stomach. Stephen immediately tried to double over and block the cloak, only succeeding in losing his balance and falling to his knees. A low growl left his throat as he tried to cover any more laughter that threatened to escape him. “Stop ihihihihihit!” he begged through gritted teeth. Stephen lost what was left of his composure and fell face-down onto the rug, now laughing freely. No matter how much he squirmed, how desperately he pleaded, or how much force he used to attempt to pull his arms free, nothing helped. He even tried to curl into a ball to block the more sensitive areas of his abdomen, but the cloak wouldn’t allow it. In addition to the constant assault on his midsection, the cloak now added repeated flutters of its collar points at Stephen’s neck. The man let out a very embarrassing uncharacteristic squeal and started shaking his head back and forth while scrunching his shoulders to counteract the ticklish feelings. “Nonononono. What do you wahahahant?!” 

Stephen really could not handle much more of the cloak’s antics. His muscles were sore. His mind was exhausted. He could swear that his lungs were actually on fire. Strange contemplated calling for Wong, but his pride prevented him from letting anyone witness such a scene. Even if he did call out, his voice was so hoarse that he could barely whisper.  The sorcerer managed to turn over and sit up on the floor despite still trying to stifle his laughter and struggling to break free from the cloak. He reached his breaking point and any sense of composure he had left was thrown to the wind. He abandoned his struggling and slumped against a table leg while now laughing freely. Tears had squeezed from his tightly shut eyes and left trails over his cheekbones. Stephen had been laughing so hard that he started hiccupping as he tried to catch his breath. All of a sudden, the cloak peeled itself away and floated back a few feet from him. 

“Oh, no more. I can’t. I give.” Stephen collapsed into a still-giggling heap on the floor with his eyes closed and stretched his limbs out. It took several minutes for his breathing to calm down to a manageable pace. “What. Was. That. For?” He opened his eyes and looked up at the garment that hovered over him. “Were you trying to kill me?” The cloak jolted backwards and zoomed down towards Stephen. His knees went up in anticipation of another attack, but relaxed as the crimson fabric hugged one of his arms and rubbed its collar into his shoulder. A shaking hand reached up and soothingly pet the relic. “Alright, alright. Just please don’t ever do that again.” Stephen dropped his arm back down and closed his eyes again. He didn’t even have enough energy to sit back up yet. “If you let anyone know about this…” He opened his eyes again to see the cloak shaking its collar. “Good. I just want to read this so I can understand you better. Don’t you want that?” The cloak lifted its collar slowly as if it had just realized what Stephen had been trying to do. It released him and hung still in the air beside him. “Thank you.” Ignoring the soreness in his abdominal muscles, Stephen pushed himself into a sitting position and opened the book again.

“I’m never going to find anything in this.” Stephen thumbed through a few pages. An image caught his eye and he swiped a few pages back. The page he landed on had handwritten entries with an etching of the Cloak of Levitation at the top. “I take that back.” Looking closer at the words, every paragraph or so had different handwriting. They were different entries from previous masters who had bonded with it. Every master was different. Some of them weren’t even human. They had different genders, some didn’t have a gender at all. Stephen carefully read each entry, but nothing written on the pages so much as hinted at answering his question. “I put back what I took back, this is pointless.” He pushed the book across the table with a growl.

“It’s precisely what kept you from greatness. Arrogance and fear still keep you from learning the simplest and most significant lesson of all.” “Which is?” “It’s not about you.”

“Still seeing through me, even when you’re gone.” Stephen’s last moments with the Ancient One echoed in his mind as vividly as if they’d only just happened. He sighed and pulled the book towards himself again to reread the scribbled inserts. This time, he tried not to look for answers. Everyone the cloak bonded to in the past seemed to have the same issue. They didn’t do anything to gain the relic’s loyalty or even ask for it. It was as if the cloak simply made a free choice to bond with each master, including Stephen.  Even though each relationship was different, it was clear in each entry that each was initiated by the cloak.

“You don’t look for a common link. The defining quality that bonds you to a master is that there is no defining quality.” Placing an elbow on his knee, Stephen rested his head against his fist and looked at the cloak in disbelief. “You really just inherently know if someone is worthy and you bond to them without question. You’re Like Thor’s hammer, I guess.”

“I hope you found the answers you were searching for.” Wong appeared at the top of the stairs. He cast a suspicious gaze at the sorcerer. “Although, I thought you would have found it down in the library.”

“You could have just told me instead of your teaching moment bullshit, you know.” Stephen closed the book and swatted it down heavily into Wong’s outstretched hands. “You have no idea what l went through to figure this all out.”

“Where would the fun be if I gave you all the answers?” Wong chuckled to himself as he adjusted the book under one of his arms. “As I said before, you still have much to learn. I remember in the beginning, you scoffed at the very idea of all of this. You did not think yourself worthy of it even after accepting the existence of it all. Look at how far you’ve come. The cloak knew your worth then.”

“You at least could have warned me at any time about this one’s mischievous streak,” Stephen said, nodding his head towards the cloak beside him. The cloak spun around happily until it saw its master raise a questioning brow. The relic then sheepishly curled itself against Stephen’s shoulder again.

“And break the tradition of warnings coming after they are needed?” Wong smirked at his friend. 

“I think I liked you better when you were just an uptight pain in the ass.” Stephen folded his arms across his chest and leaned back against a desk. He was still trying to catch his breath. “You should leave the jokes to me before you hurt yourself,” he teased. His body froze when the cloak settled on his shoulders. He couldn’t handle another round of its antics and certainly not with an audience on top of it. Stephen exhaled a thankful breath when the relic simply rested.

“You’ve been training and studying too hard. The mind and body both need proper rest and relaxation to remain healthy.” Wong turned away and walked toward the staircase. He stopped just short of the top step and glanced back at Stephen. “The world is not in eminent danger for the time being. Take advantage. Don’t be so serious. Maybe laugh a little.” He descended the staircase smiling.

“Oh no.” Stephen heard the cloak’s ends rustle.

[kidical]

Any headcannons for the Hugger then? I personally believe that he plays the trumpet just to stalk Jeff and scare the liven hell out of him with his loud ass trumpet and Jeff HATES it but hugger is just a speedy runner for him to do anything.

OMG YES LETS GO i love writing headcanons its so fun lets go LETS GO!!!! THERESSS not a lot here bc i dont have much to go off on. ill call the other jeff JTK to avoid confusion <3

- i think the idea that hes JTKs cousin is super cute ❤️ i know that got critiqued bc people thought itd be weird that JTKs cousin would also be named jeff but UM i have a cousin named emi too (named AFTER me in fact :3) so its not really unbelievable teehee

- him being related to JTK, hes obviously really upset to hear what happened to his aunt, uncle and cousins. on that note, jeff isnt all sunshine and rainbows (thats mostly a caricature of him that JTK created LOL), jeff is actually just trying to find JTK to get justice for his family and get him psychiatric help! to try not guilty by reason of insanity. he firmly believes that all JTK needs is to be shown understanding and kindness. 

- he has nothing to do with any of the creepypastas and actually has no idea they even exist, and he isnt actively looking for JTK like liu is. hes helped him pass out missing persons posters and helped look in search parties and memorials and all of that, but he has his own life and is mostly just doing it out of pity for liu. liu is absolutely convinced JTK is still out there, while jeffs convinced he died in the woods. 

- he volunteers in a lot of different things! community service, charity, blood donations, soup kitchens, animal shelters, etc. he finds the time to do all of it. hes a stereotypical kind person LOL

- HIMBO KING! hes a sweet guy but no one knows wtf hes saying and he has no idea wtf anyone else is saying ever

- hes autistic + adhd !!!!!! :33 he has ocd too and his main compulsions are brushing his teeth a number of times, locking his doors (cliche i know), and counting to 7 after stepping on lines/cracks on the ground (he associates 7 with good luck!). hes not concerned with symmetry, but hes EXTREMELY superstitious and finds his personal hygiene important. bc of his superstitions, hes not likely to get out of the house on friday the 13th.

[theparanormalperiodical]

Black Cats And Broken Mirrors: The Forgotten History Behind 13 Common Superstitions feat. 4 Cray-Cray Bonus Beliefs That You Didn’t Know Existed

It’s safe to say I’m a superstitious person.

I run a blog about the paranormal, for god’s sake.

Everyday I find myself touching wood, crossing my fingers, and hoping that magpie I can see just over there has a friend nearby to make a pair.

But in the same vein I’m obsessed with things that aren’t quite so lucky: I’m currently donning a pair of subtle black cat slippers, and I’m pretty damn sure my lucky number is 13.

Like most people reading this post at 2.37am when they should be having nightmares about the Mothman, I’m drawn to all things that don’t quite make sense. And people like me have been obsessed with superstitions since humans first started believing in a god of their choice.

Yet despite the long history of superstitious beliefs, there are some that still alter what we think and what we do.

Why do we pick up pennies in the hope of good luck?

Is there an explanation as to why walking under ladders can bring back luck?

And what is so wrong with the number 13?

Clutch your rabbit foot tight, and let’s find out.

#1 - It’s bad luck to open umbrellas indoors

I hate umbrellas. Like printers, they can sense when you need them most, deciding to either malfunction with the slightest gust of wind or disappear from sight altogether.

But the Victorians had it a bit worse than we do with more modern contraptions. And it’s the dangerous nature of Victorian umbrellas that explains why we are still wary of opening them indoors:

They had rigidly-spoked umbrellas which would snap open. When opened indoors, it could injure someone or hit an object as they opened with such force.

But the history of umbrella-related problems actually goes as far back as the Ancient Egyptians. The nobility would be protected from the sun with decorative umbrellas, but they believed if they opened them indoors they would anger the sun god. Umbrellas also mimicked the goddess who formed the sky so the shade created by the umbrella was thus considered sacred.

The act of daring to open one indoors could also anger your home’s spirits and causing misfortune.

So basically no living being or supernatural entity approves.

#2 - Walking underneath a ladder will bring bad luck

We now turn from one belief system to another.

This superstition relates purely to Christianity, with the claims that the ladder against a wall creates 3 points and thus represents the Holy Trinity. Walking through this triangle thus represents you - yes, you, you unholy thing - breaking it.

The Egyptians also had a thing about ladders, and like the Christians believed a triangle was sacred symbol.

It is also claimed that ladders were rested against crucifixes, and thus became a symbol of wickedness, death, and any other values that go against Christ’s teaching.

These beliefs were so prevalent, criminals sentenced to be hung in 17th century England were forced to walk under a ladder as they headed towards the gallows.

#3 - Broken mirrors give you seven years of bad luck

Mirrors have a bad reputation amongst us supernatural skeptics. Why? 

They’ve been used for divination and conjuring rituals for millenia, and that’s exactly the gripe the Ancient Greeks had with them.

Their mirror seers, as they were also known, told the future by looking at the reflection of their clients. And one of their methods was catoptromancy: the mirror was dipped in water, and you were asked to look in the glass. If it distorted, you were destined to die.

The 7 years bit is actually to do with the Romans and was introduced back in 1st AD. As they believed people's health changed in 7 year cycles, a distorted image thus meant 7 years of ill health or misfortune.

#4 - Throwing salt over your shoulder avoids bad luck

Salt is one of those things that has always had spiritual meaning.

From the Bible to Pagan ceremonies, it is known for its healing properties and has even been used as a unit of exchange. It’s these values which explain why spilling salt is considered so unlucky.

Even the word ‘salary’ can be traced back to the monetary value of what we now consider simply a seasoning.

The Ancient Sumerians were the first to think up throwing salt over their left shoulder to nullify any salt they might spill, protecting themselves from bad luck. Alternatively, in Mahayana Buddhist tradition, the same ritual is used to prevent evil spirits from entering the house.

#5 - Knocking on wood prevents disappointment

Just like salt, wood has been pretty prevalent in rituals throughout history. It’s for this reason that historians still aren’t sure which religion actually gave birth to this, but it is most often attributed to holding a crucifix when taking an oath, or how European peasants historically knocked loudly to keep out evil spirits.

Today we knock on wood to avoid tempting fate, whereas German or Celtic folklore started the knocking ritual to invoke the protection of their fairies, spirits, and dryads that lived in the trees. To follow their ritual, say your wish to the tree, knock one, and then knock again to say ‘thank you’.

The knocking stops the evil spirits from hearing you, and prevents them from interfering in your good fortune.

#6 - Open-end-up horse shoes are good luck

It’s a good luck charm gracing novelty gifts and jewellery for prep school girls who are still crying about New Moon - but like most superstitions, it once again can be traced back to the Ancient Greeks.

Iron was believed to have the ability to ward off evil, and the crescent moon was a symbol of fertility and good fortune. The twinned appeal of an iron crescent moon symbol thus suggested high levels of protection against misfortune.

This symbol was passed down to the Christians and use of it peaked during the witch trials. It was believed witches feared horses, and thus wouldn’t go near a home with a horse shoe on the front door.

It can also be traced back to a legend of Saint Dunstan from the 10th century: one day the Devil asked for Dunstan to shoe his horse. Rather than nailing the shoe to the horse’s foot, he nailed it to the devil’s foot and thus caused the entity unbearable pain. Dunstan agreed to remove the shoe only if the Devil never entered a household with a horseshoe on the door.

The way it is positioned is also important: open end down means the horse catches the luck and open end up means those entering the house get the luck.

#7 - Black cats crossing your path is bad luck

Black cats have always been considered omens - but the kind of luck they bring is yet to be agreed upon.

Ancient Egyptians revered cats and thus believed they brought good luck, whereas the British public’s fear of black cats can be traced back to King Charles I’s loss of his beloved pet. He believed when it died his luck was gone...

He was arrested the next day for high treason.

(Oh, he was guilty, black cat or not.)

Medieval Europeans followed a similar line of thought, but believed that they were familiars (like companions) of witches. If one was to cross your path, it meant the devil was watching you.

#8 - The number 13 is unlucky

This superstition is so popular, it’s even earnt a scientific name: triskaidekaphobia, aka the fear of the number 13. But why do we have such a phobia of the number?

Whilst many believe it is down to the Last Supper, when Judas - that guy that betrayed Jesus - sat down as the 13th guest at the table, it can also be found in a similar legend in Norse mythology.

12 gods were dining at Valhalla in the city of gods when Loki crashed the party. They tried to kick him out, but the struggle caused one of the gods - Balder - to die. But each culture has their own individual take on why the number 13 is quite so unlucky.

The Mayan believed their calendar’s 13th Baktun was the harbinger of 2012’s predicted apocalypse,  English monks disliked 13 full moons in a year as opposed to 12 as it skewed the religious holidays, and in 1307 on friday the 13th King Philip of France ordered the arrest of the Knights Templar.

Some nations take the fear so seriously that they don’t even have 13 floors. And interestingly enough, it wasn’t used in Formula 1 for 40 years. Some countries, including China and France, however, believe it is a lucky number.

#9 - Pick up a penny for good luck

This superstition is often relayed to a nursery rhyme actually referring to pins forged by Paganism, but it actually started with superstition regarding metals. In years gone by, metals gave protection against evil spirits. So, when metal began to be used from currency, it followed logically that those who had more currency had better fortune.

But what one should do with the penny is uncertain. Some say it is only lucky if it is heads-side-up, whereas others believe you should always flip it over for the next person to find.

Another forgotten ritual associated with pennies is that a bride should put a penny in her shoe on her wedding day to ensure a happy marriage.

#10 - A rabbit’s foot brings good luck

Okay, let’s be honest.

We’re all friends here.

Who the f*ck wants a rabbit’s foot? Like, what person wants an animal’s body part in their bed side table, or in their new rucksack-style handbag which you’re still not sure if the colour works with your skintone yet but you’ve already lost the receipt?

Turns out a lot of people do.

Rabbit feet are considered a talisman or an amulet which can be traced back to Celtic tribes in Britain. But on the other side of the pond, they can come from hoodoo, African-American folk magic that combines Native American, European, and African beliefs.

However, any ol’ rabbit can’t be chosen to be de-footed. It must’ve been killed in a certain way, in a certain place, by a certain person.

Under a full moon, or in a cemetery, or on a rainy Friday, or shot with a silver bullet… You have a lot of options.

The interest in rabbit feet in particular is because this is an animal which witches used to shapeshift into, and the times it should be killed, such as during a full moon, was when witches would transform.

The cemetery part is interesting, however: if killed on the grave of a criminal, they have a more effective charm applied to them.

#11 - Crossing your fingers is good luck

Like most superstitions, this one goes back to Jesus.

Crossing your fingers invokes the power of Christ as it creates a cross, and thus asks God for protection. But the first use of the gesture itself involves two people crossing their index fingers together, and can be traced back to the biblical Kingdom of Israel:

Judges would cross their fingers when they sentenced someone to death and wanted to reaffirm God’s authority over the criminal’s soul.

From there churchgoers would cross their fingers for blessings, and in the 16th century England people began to use it to ward off evil or to bless people when they coughed or sneezed.

#12 - Mirrors placed opposite each other are unlucky and might conjure the devil

We already know mirrors are highly-spiritual objects, and can be used to predict the future or conjure spirits from another realm.

But according to Mesoamerican culture, when mirrors are placed opposite each other, they create a doorway for the devil. 

Mexicans today still believe your interior design might just be summoning evil spirits.

#13 - Whistling indoors is bad luck

Our next superstition is from Lithuania, but has already made its way across Europe.

In many cultures, whistling - especially at night - attracts bad luck and evil spirits. But in England, an urban legend in the 19th century brought a whole new meaning to the superstition. The Seven Whistlers are mysterious spirits that would create spectral whistling in mines and stopped groups of coal miners going to work.

Alternatively, in Slavic countries whistling indoors can bring poverty, whereas the Chinese Daoist technique of breath yoga can summon supernatural beings and strange phenomena.

The Superstitions You Didn’t Know Existed And Will Now Probably Be Obsessed With 

#14 - If a bird craps on you it is good luck

This Russian superstition claims that if bird poop lands on you or an object that belongs to you, it will bring you wealth. But interest in bird faeces goes a bit further than this frosty nation.

Sailors believed droppings shouldn’t be cleaned off a vessel until the next rainstorm, whereas British folklore claims if droppings come from a rook (a member of the Crow family) it is a punishment.  

#15 - Yo-Yos bring bad luck

On January 21st 1933, Yo-Yos were banned in Syria.

The persistent drought and freezing temperatures the country was facing were pinned on the traditional toy, and the leaders in Damascus claimed the wrath of god was being incited by these obviously evil trinkets.

They believed that Syrians were praying from the rain to come down, but as the yo-yo comes down and then goes back up it thus wasn’t raining.

I think that’s what they were getting at.

I’m still not sure.

#16 - Singing at the dinner table is bad luck

I was once told off for singing in the middle of dinner. I must’ve been three years old, but from what I’ve read, my grandpa was probably convinced I was actually communicating with Satan.

If you sang at the table, it meant you were singing to the devil for your supper. And when you sing to the devil, it’s probably going to end badly.

#17 - Carry an acorn to stay young

According to women from Ancient Britain, acorns could keep you looking youthful - and it was all down to the power of an oak tree.

Simply tuck one into your pocket, and you too could look like you were in a magazine spread that enforces the destructive notion that women cannot look above the age of 27.

Acorns are also associated with Thor: Scandinavian folklore claims the god of thunder sought protection under an oak tree during a storm. By putting one on a windowsill, it will protect your house from lightning strikes as a sign of respect to Thor.

As we plough into Autumn of this sh*t year, it is our duty to generate as much luck as possible. We’re gonna need it.

Which superstition surprised you the most? And which ones do you do?

Let me know in a comment, and click follow if you want to hear a new article on the paranormal every week!

And don’t forget to check out the link in the bio, the ultimate collection of online real ghost stories as told by you.

[telesthisia]

(No reblogs! Make a new post please!)

|| The Basics ||

Name: Zelda of Hyrule Nickname(s): Zel, Zellie, Elle, Ellie Age: 19 Species: Human or well Hylian 

|| Personal ||

Religious Belief: The three golden goddess + Hylia but... she’s known as the forgotten goddess in her timeline since certain legends faded away from the public’s knowledge but not at all the royal family’s. Sins: Lust / Greed / Gluttony / Sloth / Pride / Envy / Wrath Virtues: Chastity / Charity / Diligence / Humility / Kindness / Patience /Justice Primary Goals In Life:  To create a brighter future for her people for generations on end, leading to the eventually famed Golden Age before the Hero of Time’s downfall... though Hyrule has recovered once she’s born there are still remnants of ruin from that era as such she wants to protect her people as well as make Hyrule safer, while she doesn’t do it within her lifetime because limited lifespan her dream does still come true years later aka LOZ and LOZ 2 don’t be fooled by the plot, Hyrule was in its prime during those games!  Languages Known:  Hylian Secrets: Well... it’s no secret among her staff but outside the castle, she keeps her poor health (heart condition and undiagnosed rare anemia problem) and near lack of magical stamina a secret since that can put her at a pretty bad disadvantage. She has plenty of enemies, namely those who align themselves with Ganon and the resurrection of him is still possible provided the person is a powerful mage with knowledge of doing that sort of stuff in the first place. And then there’s also court drama she has to worry about but that’s for another long lengthy headcanon post I should have out... soon... ish. Also while obvious with partners and in a meta sense and if you’re super observant but her guise Elle is, in fact, her, the princess of Hyrule so... ye...  Quirks: Her birthmark of the Triforce is... certainly unique. But if we’re talking mannerism rather than physical then allow me to just ramble because hoo boy! When nervous or worked up, she often tucks her stray hairs behind her ears, even when she’s not feeling those emotions she’s always fiddling around with it (in her royal wear) often flipping it out of her face or trying to make it look a little neater. She has the Pendant of Courage, a gift from Link and often clutches on it when she feels the need to summon her courage if she’s feeling not that brave, often trying to recall Link’s courage during his many adventures. When using any of her PSI powers she tends to have a nose bleed, as such, she often carries around a handkerchief and tries to cover it up before going off somewhere to stop the bleeding. When laughing, she likes to hold her smile behind her hand... and when yawning she tries to cover her mouth. SHE IS THE WORST COOK TO EVER EXIST holy crap but can make mean cookies. When flirting (more like embarrassed flirting pft) she looks away to the side and twirls her hair around her finger trying to hide her red cheeks. Her romantic out view on life stems from the fact that she was constantly surrounded by death and history and art so there’s morbid beauty in the melancholy... this girl gets excited over Friday the 13th and samhain ok like... there’s a lot to unpack with that. THERE’S MORE BUT I’VE RAMBLED FAR ENOUGH!!!  Savvies: Well... she bakes pretty good cookies BUT UH!!! YEAH she’s pretty proficient with her light magic! While she can’t do the amazing things other Zeldas can do because of limitations she’s not someone you would want to mess around with. She’s learned to work around those limitations and has great control over her powers. On top of that, she somehow knows how to use a crossbow so :’) while not the light arrows (she’s too weak to wield a bow) and it was a lucky shot she at least knows enough about how it works to fire it in the first place. She reads a lot, even as a kid she’d sneak off to the library to read the history about Hyrule or read maps and well she’s pretty knowledgable about her nation as a whole! And thanks to sneaking out she knows how to sneak past the guards and knows all of the secret passages in her castle like the back of her hand! Can’t forget her amazing political insight and ability to think outside the box! She has pretty innovative ideas for her times esp when concerning the common folk, but sometimes they don’t always go through because well... nobles. 

|| Physical ||

Height: 5′0″  Weight: you never ask a lady her weight! >:0 Scars/Birthmarks:  Has a cat scratch scar on her right palm which is also where the triforce is located! Abilities/Powers: Light magic, as the descendant of the mortal goddess she has been blessed with the Light Force. On top of that she’s come from a line of sages and has the Triforce of Wisdom so as you expect she has so much magic. She can heal, bless your weapons, smite away darkness, sense darkness (As a matter of fact she’s pretty sensitive to it and it makes her lowkey sick if it’s too much) and then there’s her PSI abilities which includes clairvoyance and telepathy! And then... her connection to the spirit realm.  Restrictions: AHAHAHA SO MUCH, she’s a glass cannon which is why she’s so, so, so easy to kidnap in the first place. She may put up a fight but not for long, as such her tactics are always to make a distraction and then escape. But she has poor stamina and just a poor heart, she can’t really overexert herself without a) causing pain and b) passing the hell out which was common in her younger days. Using magic takes up a lot of stamina as shown in ALTTP esp with the more powerful spells, you need an amazing reserve to cast all of that and sadly while she has good control she doesn’t have good reserves. SOOOOOOO to fix this she always has to take medicine of magic. Mana blockage is a thing that can happen, more often than she’d like to admit which causes pain once again and makes using magic pretty hard. Now onto her telepathy and clairvoyance. While they sound useful there are restrictions on those as well, for one with telepathy while she can contact anyone so long as she finds their signature subconscious she doesn’t have to worry about distance too much so long as they are within her range which is... maybe more than 200 meters? I need to think about the range more because there are certain places where she can reach you and cannot but there’s def a range limit. She tends to get nosebleeds and headaches from using telepathy. Her clairvoyance is where she can see bits of the future, but they are very vague and hard to decipher and there’s always a chance of the future changing or not changing. As for her connection to the spirit realm, pretty much she can see dead people... in her dreams and there’s no way of shutting this power off she’s gotta deal with the horrors that is this realm. Now seeing spirits isn’t anything new in LOZ but contact to the spirit realm is something that’s implied that only royal family members can do... as implied by Zelda’s words in BOTW where she said her mom (or grandma??) could hear the voices of the spirit realm.  

|| Favorites ||

Favourite Drink: Rose tea Favourite Pizza Topping: Basil...  Favourite Color:  Blue!  Favourite Music Genre: She pretty much likes slow and relaxing music, piano comes to mind but *kayne shrug* Favourite Book Genre: Romance aHEM as a princess she doesn’t have time to read cheesy romance novels and fantasize about the day where someone riding on a white horse will sweep her off her feet and they ride off into the sunset never having to bear the burden of her heritage and responsibilities hahaha..... but history and folklore. She likes tragic stories that have bittersweet endings.  Favourite Movie Genre: Fantasy, tragic tales, suspense, romance flicks  Favourite Season: Spring Favourite Butt Type:

Favourite Swear Word: "Goodness me!”  Favourite Scent: Forest scent, the fields, that ancient scent you smell when visiting old places, the smell of book pages  Favourite Quote: “Time has stopped for me long ago.”

|| Fun Stuff ||

Bottom or Top:

Sings In The Shower: Yes!!! Well... rose soaked bathwater because she’s spoiled stupid by her castle staff and Impa but she’ll hum a tune here and there!  Likes Bad Puns: Of course! She has the playfully innocent attitude so puns is right up her alley! Morality: Lawful / Neutral / Chaotic / Good / Gray / Evil Build: Slender / Scrawny / Bony / Fit / Athletic / Herculean / Babyfat / Pudgy / Obese / Other. Favourite Food: APPLES!!! Namely baked apples and more importantly apple strudel! Her nation is famous for having delicious apples that can help cure fatigue and even rise up stamina a bit! She’s very much a follower of “an apple a day keeps the doctor away” esp if that doctor keeps giving her bitter medicines.  “Boss” Theme Music :  Excuse me for using a sad track... but... sAD MUSIC HONESTLY SHE’S DEPRESSION PERSONIFIED!! It reflects her hidden melancholy for like everything. I feel like if you have to fight her as a boss it’ll be more of a beautifully sad moment than something epic like that boss fight with puppet zelda which slaps honestly.  Their Opinion On The Mun: “Does she thrive on my pain?”  

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[scotianostra]

Today in Scottish history, 13th August 1888, John Logie Baird, inventor of the first television, was born in Helensburgh.

On a day that looks quiet for anniversaries, thank god for John Logie Baird, a post I could get my teeth into!

We all know what he is famous for so I thought I would give more details about his life and other inventions from this very influential Scot. I will delve into his memoirs as he describes his ventures himself.......

When World War I began in 1914 Baird tried to join the Army, but was unfit. So he worked in a factory. He did not like it, and felt sorry for factory workers. He went into business on his own, hoping to get rich.Baird sold medicines. He invented a shaving razor made of glass (so it would not rust).

He also knew that the trenches of WW1 meant soldiers were constantly in muddy and wet conditions. They could not change their socks as often as they would like and this led to an infection known as "trench foot". If it was left untreated it could result in amputation. So he "invented" the Baird Undersock, which promised to keep the feet of soldiers in perfect health.

His marketing of the product contained what he claimed to be "testimonials" from soldiers serving on the western front. One from Corporal H.G. Roberts said: "I find the Baird Undersocks keep my feet in splendid condition out here in France. Foot trouble is one of our worst enemies, but, thanks to the Baird Undersock, mine are in the 'pink', and I think they should be supplied to all soldiers." The product was so successful that it allowed him to give up his job as assistant mains engineer, supervising the repair of electrical breakdowns for the Clyde Valley Electric Power Company.

It was a job he described in his memoirs as "sordid miserable work, punctuated by repeated colds and influenza". He was also dabbling in electronics, he once  he attempted to produce artificial diamonds by passing an enormous current through a stick of graphite!

In his memoirs he wrote

"Diamonds are created in nature by subjecting carbon to a very high pressure and a very high temperature. I thought I might get these conditions artificially by electrically exploding a rod of carbon embedded in concrete. I got a thick carbon bar and filed it down into a thin rod in the centre, then I attached a wire to each end and embedded the whole thing in a large iron pot. I connected the wires to a switch which, when closed, put them straight across the power station bus bars. My idea was to pass a stupendous sudden current through the carbon so as to generate enormous heat and pressure. I chose a good time and then, when no-one was about, closed the switch. There was a dull thud from the pot, a cloud of smoke, and then the main current breaker tripped and the whole of the power supply went off. I had anticipated this and soon got it going again, but I did not get my wires away quickly enough and unpleasant explanations followed. Thereafter I was regarded as a dangerous character and, in the general unpleasantness, I forgot about the pot and it disappeared. Perhaps it is today lying in some forgotten rubbish heap, a pot of cement with priceless diamonds embedded in it."

His sock business was doing very well. It was booming but it was a one-man business and when he disappeared for six weeks the business disappeared too. The reason was he was once again hit with one of his very bad colds so he just closed it down at that point and discovered that at the end of the day he had got something like £1,600 in the bank.

He was not a fit man and his doctor told him he needed sunshine. So Baird went to the island of Trinidad in the Caribbean. He started a factory making jam and pickles! People passing Baird’s house were puzzled. What were those strange flashing lights? Baird was busy with experiments. He was trying to send pictures through the air!

In 1923, he moved back to the UK, he still had all these ideas in his head and a work ethic that made him want to succeed in business, his next venture was making soap, I say soap, but it was a very cheap version of it and wasn't very good, with the soap came other cleaning solutions for around the home, again I delve into his memoirs where he write.....

"One day a very vulgar and ferociously angry woman banged her way into the office. She carried a small infant, pulled its clothes over its head and thrust a raw and inflamed posterior into my face. The poor child looked like a boiled lobster. The wretched woman had washed the infant in a strong solution of "Baird's Speedy Cleaner". I calmed her down and pointed out that the Speedy Cleaner was a powerful scouring soap for floors and ship decks, and not a toilet soap for infants."

Again came  ill-health, he sold businesses and moved to Hastings coughing, choking and spluttering, and so thin as to be almost transparent [Ref 2, page 44]. He concluded that he needed to invent something. Glass razor blades were a possibility, but his experiments resulted in a badly cut face. He also considered pneumatic-soled shoes.

"I got a pair of very large boots, and put inside them two partially inflated balloons, and then very carefully inserted my feet, laced up the boots and set off on a short trial run. I walked a hundred yards in a succession of drunken and uncontrollable lurches followed by a few delighted urchins, till the demonstration was brought to an end by one of my tyres bursting"

One day he wrote to a friend, ‘I have invented a means of seeing by wireless [radio]’. His friend said, 'stick to soap’! But Baird had always dreamed of creating a television, this was no easy feat as he didn't have any sponsors and so had little cash to try and invent one. So, he scrounged whatever material he could find. Everything from glue to string to cardboard to even a bicycle lamp to create the very first TV. It wasn't without its failures though, as you would expect, to succeed with television he realised that more light was essential. He tried to produce this by wiring up a network of batteries. This led to a 2000 volt electrocution and explosion, which could have cost him his life, he wrote......

"The next day I bought several hundred flash lamp batteries and began to realise my dream of a 2000 volt power supply, by joining sufficient dry batteries end to end - a formidable task. Some days later I had finished this and was connecting the supply to some part of the cobweb of wiring when my attention wandered and I received the full force of the 2000 volts through my hands. It was amply sufficient to cause death, but I was lucky, for a few seconds I was twisted into a knot in helpless agony and then fortunately fell over backwards, breaking the circuit and saving my life. But I shall never forget the agony of those few seconds. Electrocution must be a terrible death."

Not surprisingly, this led to eviction by his landlord and a return to London to 22 Frith Street, Soho in November that year he tried to drum up some publicity for his idea of the Television, he managed to get a meeting with the Daily Express newspaper.......

"After a short delay I was ushered into a small room and the editor (at least I thought it was the editor) came hurrying to see me. "Are you interested in a machine for television - seeing by wireless?" I said. "Seeing by wireless?" said the "editor", a little taken aback. "Oh yes," said I, "an apparatus that will let you see the people who are being broadcast by the BBC or speaking on the telephone." "Astounding," said the gentleman, "I am very busy at a meeting, but I'll get one of my colleagues to take the story, very interesting," and he vanished out of the door.

In a few minutes a large brawny individual came in, listened sympathetically and with great interest to my tale, assured me that it was a first call story and advised me to be sure to get a copy of next day's Express, where I would get a first class show on the front page. And so with a cordial handshake he saw me off the premises.

Nothing whatever appeared in the Express and it was only some years after that I got the inside story from the brawny individual himself. The day I called he was sitting in the press room when one of the assistant editors came running in. "For God's sake, Jackson, go down to the reception room and get rid of a lunatic who is there. He says he's got a machine for seeing by wireless. Watch him carefully, he may have a razor hidden."

In 1924, Baird successfully transmitted flickering images of a Maltese cross for a distance of about 10 feet. He now knew his idea would work and on 2nd October, 1925 - success!

"Funds were going down, the situation was becoming desperate and we were down to our last £30 when at last, one Friday in the first week of October 1925, everything functioned properly. The image of the dummy's head [Stooky Bill] formed itself on the screen with what appeared to me almost unbelievable clarity. I had got it! I could scarcely believe my eyes and felt myself shaking with excitement.

I ran down the little flight of stairs to Mr Cross's office and seized by the arm his office boy William Taynton, hauled him upstairs and put him in front of the transmitter. I then went to the receiver only to find the screen a blank. William did not like the lights and the whirring discs and had withdrawn out of range. I gave him half a crown and pushed his head into position. This time he came through and on the screen I saw the flickering but clearly recognisable image of William's face - the first face seen by television - and he had to be bribed with half a crown for the privilege of achieving this distinction"

The world's first television broadcast!

The next year, Baird transmitted sound and images over 400 miles, from Glasgow to London, a remarkable feat! In 1928 the pictures were sent all the way to the USA, a feat many believe only became possible when satellites started being sent above the Earth 30 years later, the same year Baird gave us the world's first colour television pictures, again, many think this was a more modern innovation.

He looked west and in 1931 sailed to the USA, writing as the ship neared its destination...

"As the boat approached New York harbour I was surprised to see on the Pier a body of Highland pipers marching up and down with great elan to the skirl of the pipes. These wretched men proved to be a gang of comic opera pipers from the Ziegfield Follies. A misguided but enthusiastic American publicity agent had arranged to give me a real Scottish reception."

His many other inventions were in fields such as radar, fibre optics, and infrared night viewing.

Today Australian TV awards are called Logies in his honour.  

He was, simply,  one of Scotland’s greatest engineers.

You can read the whole timeline on this PDF with more snippets from Bairds own memoirs http://www.helensburgh-heritage.co.uk/pdfs/John_Logie_Baird_A_Life.pdf