#for now feel free to keep prompting for these interactions bc I live for it

[valhallavalgrace]

Favorite and least favorite activities, if you’re willing to share?

Also, did you learn anything about what’s going on with the new guy down the hall? Sure, you were supposed to stay out of it, but you’ve got to at least be a little curious, right?

LEO: *quiet guilty thoughts because he can't ask about if Loki is like Loki in the movies* *pretending to know anything about Norse mythology*

MAGNUS: *overthinking about Uncle Randolf and the Loki symbols* *forgetting that Norse demigods aren't the only demigods bc they still haven't talked about his Greek cousin*

prev ask

[sharpsuite]

BONUS PROMPT FOR @cartelheir bc i love vivi and wish to spoil:

↳ NONVERBAL MEMES ↳ [ nap ] for your muse to fall asleep against mine

   Chishiya stares with BARELY concealed surprise as he feels Pat slump against him, burying her head against his shoulder. This doesn’t happen to Chishiya. People don’t so much as reach out to touch his shoulder or arm to pass by, let alone fall asleep against him. It’s like they can all see the void that he is, that there’s something wrong. He swallows down the bitter sensation that threatens to crawl out of his chest like ROT easing through cracks in the wall and focuses on the warmth and weight at his side. Pat is here and she’s fast asleep against him.

   He doesn’t know what to do about that really. Does he stay? Does he try to move her to a more comfortable position? Wake her? He tosses the lattermost option out before the thought is even done. She’d looked exhausted even before she fell asleep, like what rest she had been getting had been stressful. He cranes his head a little bit to study her face. She looks PEACEFUL like this. Probably one of if not the most peaceful he’s seen her since – ever really. Certainly since they'd returned from the borderlands and since her husband was dead and seeking refuge with him. It’s strange to come to terms with the thought someone can look at him and feel safe enough to sleep. It’s also strange to come to terms with the thought he’d once asked her to not leave him as he bled out. Strange, but not bad.

    Uncertainty ensures that each movement he makes is slow so as not to disturb her. He doesn’t have any reference for this situation. He’s never cuddled with someone, never fell asleep against his mom or had any friends. But he doesn’t want her uncomfortable now or later. He takes a very GRADUAL approach to shifting her off the sharp edge of his shoulder and towards the edge of his chest in front of the scapula, brown eyes focused as he makes sure not to wake her. She doesn’t wake, and he hesitates with a now semi-free arm. What does he do now? It makes him feel stupid, because no normal person would struggle with this. But HE does. Is he doing this right? Wrong? There’s no guide to tell him, no mathematical equation that offers a simple solution in the form of quantitative data. 

  He reaches down and gently pulls the blanket up further to keep her warm, head tilted to the side to keep track of her breathing and making sure he hasn’t woken her. It’s a TEMPORARY relief from the dilemma of what to do. It’s over too fast and leaves Chishiya right back where he started. Ever so slowly he lowers his hand, as if he’s afraid to get BURNED, until he’s gently resting an arm around her. The burning isn't quite imaginary though. It takes him a moment to realize that it's his lungs burning ; he has been holding his breath the whole time since he lowered his hand. It’s RIDICULOUS and he can’t help rolling his eyes at himself over how absurd he’d behaving. ( Except it's not that absurd, because this isn’t natural for him and it takes time to learn. ) She seems more comfortable like this at least so he takes that as a sign he did something right.

   His free hand reaches for the remote and he turns off the television, plunging the living room into a comfortable darkness. It feels a bit better, where his struggles aren’t as OBVIOUS. He’s always hated failing, not being good enough at something. It’s never been something like this though ; only a skill he hadn’t yet learned or a branch of knowledge he’d never pursued. Not basic interactive skills. His mouth twitches slightly at the thought and he focuses instead on the steady breathing and peaceful quiet.

   Maybe he should sleep too, but sleep didn’t feel anywhere near close to happening. His free hand lingers by his side before Chishiya lifts it to gently comb through her hair, chin hesitantly resting against the crown of her head. It’s REPLICATION – remembering what she’d done and mimicking it to the best he can. Tentative touch turns a bit more confident with time, more stable than the flighty feather-light nature of it before. It’s nice. It’s terrifying. He's not sure what he's going to do when she wakes up.

   He turns his head to the side so his cheek rests against her head and watches the gradual change of night to morning through the blinds. 

[jennifersminds]

So I’m in your inbox 🙈 because I saw your recent post, and have you ever wondered what an Elejah ‘Pride and Prejudice’ AU would be like? Like, I swear I’m not asking you to write it, but Elena and Elijah in the english countryside living in castle and analysing Dickens together would be the best ❤️❤️❤️ I feel like it would suit their personalities. Damon can be Mr. Wickham and spend his life in prison lmao.

Anyway, I hope it was okay for me to ask this!

omg no bc I have been screaming the Elijah (specifically s2 tvd Elijah) / 2005 Mr. Darcy agenda for a good minute now so I appreciate the validation lmao.

tbh I NEED to write an elejah historical fic,, but I'm so lazy and can't be bothered with researching cough the time travel fic cough.

There's just so much about a p&p fic that would work for both of their characters, Elena deserved to be melancholic beside large bodies of water and I deserve to read about them dramatically dancing at a ball lmao its a win-win.

But yes this is totally okay to ask !! pls spill any thoughts into my inbox lmao I love talking.

tbh i still have way too many prompts to fill for my 1k so I might see if I can work this into one of them because (I'm so sorry everyone I promise they'll get done)

But no, I think the yearning of p&p is what really sells it for me, there was something very idk victorian/ old world about their interactions and dynamics, especially in s2. That Daniel quote that lives rent free in my head I think really goes with that.

"I don’t think he needs anything from her as much as The Salvatore’s do – I just think he could watch her forever." (x)

Like the longing is almost recreational, there isn't an end goal in mind for him, not really, there are probable thoughts and hopes and likely dirty af fantasies but he's not like,, scheming, or working to get her to reciprocate or even acknowledge them. He's just, trying to keep her alive so he can keep existing in the same world she does.

Anyway tysm !! for the ask seriously I love it and any chance I get to wax badly poetic about these two dumbass soulmates lmao

[whoslaurapalmer]

listen i Could inquire about something else out of some kind of feeling of politeness or fairness

but you know it. i know it. we both know it lets not pretend otherwise. I want to hear whatever im allowed from the post-canon lemzest snippets

:D

-i know i said i was letting the ask fics i got last november go, BUT i would still like to do the lemony/ernest one i got, which was, god what was even the prompt for it???? oh it was stolen kiss!! hadn't gotten that far into it yet. but i love this paragraph a lot.

ernest sat at the far end of the kitchen table, wearing my dressing gown with the sleeves rolled up so they wouldn’t be in his way, the fabric draping open over his chest, his chin propped up on his hand. he looked as he always had, thin and angular with a perhaps dangerous smile -- dangerous in the way a smile from a partner is often full of some sort of mischief, not dangerous in the way of previous danger we had both partaken in -- although now we were at the point in our lives where there was a touch of grey at his temples, which he was handling, at least outwardly, with a little more composure than his brother. ernest liked to watch people, and I had yet to figure out if this was a habit left over from half a lifetime as a hotel manager of complicated standing, or a personal trait where he simply enjoyed openly and unashamedly observing what he liked. it had been disconcerting to me, after the years I had spent alone, to be the center of such intense attention. but I couldn’t deny that it was nice, or that I myself was in fact indulging in a similar habit. there is a great joy, and an even greater comfort, in being able to admire the things and the people you love.

-it hits all the Things, you know. the intimacy of wearing your partner's clothes. the soft thread of the relief of being alive and here, to have this moment. they've totally had sex

-there's a couple sentences i have in my notes app because, like, okay -- lemony and the denouements in general interacting with post-canon baudelaires is Very Intriguing to me, in terms of the remains of the sugar bowl gen interacting with the children they failed, ESPECIALLY frank and ernest, and especially lemony interacting with them at all, but it needs a lot of. structure work. for me to hang a fic on it. like there's a lot of emotional stuff i've got to get through in sunny fic, specifically, about just lemony's failures at minimum, before i can even really think about adding the denouements, and before i can get around to all of them just hanging around.

BUT i also think it's like. terrible, and really really funny, the idea of the baudelaires going 'our adopted middle-aged guardian-like man is dating the guy who at the very least Caused Some Problems, and what are we going to do about that.' which led to some jokey lines that will very likely never fully exist in a fic bc what on earth would i possibly put around them, but make me giggle when i scroll past them --

sunny leans her elbows on the table. "so this is the boyfriend?" she asks, grinning.

lemony goes a very intense shade of red; the man next to him grins back at sunny.

"worry not, miss baudelaire," ernest says, pressing his free hand over his heart (the other is holding lemony's hand). "i will return him at a reasonable hour."

-i also have a very specific image i keep trying to put in wips with the two of them but i have yet to get it exactly right. lemony has a scar on his thumb (as mentioned in 'an afternoon long ago') and ernest likes to (absurdly tenderly) take his hand and kiss it and it short-circuits lemony's brain every time.

[fxnrirs]

Mun Communication Preferences based meme

🏠 Do you prefer to RP within just one fandom, or more? Which verses of yours are more, or less compatible with others?

i have many fandoms!! i haven't had a chance to really go much outside of the FFVII one but i love crossovers, would love to do a hyrule one, or maybe Hades based!

🗺️ How open are you to meeting new people? Do you like your muses being mentioned IC? To just anyone, or only fandoms/friends that you know?

i am v friendly and i'm always open to making a new friend!! i do like my muses being mentioned but if i don't know you i can be a lil bit shy. i tend to appreciate it more with a friend tho.

🪀 How do OOC posts make you feel? Do they affect your IC writing or flow, to know other muns better?

i like ooc posts esp if they let me know whether or not i'm doing a good job! it really helps me to know that my RP partners are having fun and that i'm doing well, it doesn't always affect what i'm doing, unless the mun is plotting with me and wants it to go a direction. i like getting to know muns too!

🐣 Is there anything you're new at, just now learning, or practicing when it comes to RP?

oh boy it's defs with tumblr here and how everything works. i'm pretty new to it and i can have a hard time figuring out formats; but luckily everyone here has been really nice and patient with me!!

💡Do you get ideas from reading meta/headcanons/bios, or do those only pop up as you write?

i have so many headcanons i could write a novella lmaooo i have too much free time at work sometimes when i'm all caught up and scribble down ideas

💌 Have you ever hit it off with a mun right away? What were they like? How fast do you think it takes to warm up to new people?

i have!! i've wound up in a relationship with a couple of them long term and honestly they're amazing been the best things in my life for me. they were so sweet and adorable IC and OOC and i felt like i'd known them for ages even tho we just met. they were easy to fall in love with, even before we were actively shipping, it was just all clicking into place. i think it only took three days to admit we liked each other lmaoooo and now we're living together after 4 yrs and it's great. i got two hands and two arms and i try to keep my heart and mind open to new experiences and ppl. it was really similar to my other long term partner in terms of how we got along and now we are all v happy together!!

💋 Are you silly ooc? Casual? Chatty? Do you prefer or enjoy things like small talk, when not rping?

i'm very silly my memes are powerful, i'm casual, chatty and enjoy getting to know the mun even if we aren't writing!! i always welcome DMs for plotting or otherwise bc i really value the ppl around me

🩵 Do you have any apparent flaws when it comes to RPing/interacting? Be gentle with yourself!

i have a hard time DM'ing or reaching out sometimes, it can take me days to get up the courage, and then i get anxiety that maybe i come off too friendly. i always want to join in on the fun with prompts but i get nervous that it's unwanted even if it's open replies... i can also get really really wordy when writing bc i have a constant flow of thought or consciousness going on ahahaha i sometimes also can not read a room even tho i try and text is hard i'm not good at subtext so sometimes nuance is lost on me with muns or i'm not able to tell that they're upset about something unless they tell me they are. i try to be as open and considerate as possible!! but i'm not a mind reader. :(( i also sometimes ask questions directly without understanding sometimes it's being read a very diff way than how I meant it. so please tell me if you want some clarification!! i don't get offended at all if somebody asks me questions, wants to know my feelings, wants to communicate their feelings or needs somebody to listen to them. i welcome venting and reaching out if you're having a tough time even if we aren't writing together

👾 Is knowing a fandom more comfortable when RPing, or do you prefer knowing muns? (Overall.) Do you try new things, or get into new fandoms?

i like to write in fandoms i'm familiar with to a degree, or at least understand the world and how it functions, but i don't mind trying out new stuff or getting into new things if it fits with my likes and aesthetics I really like fantasy and magic and things with great drama including horror

✨ Are you easily intimidated by muns or muses that you admire?

yes omg yes and i will sit and admire and think somebody is v cool from a distance for forever and worry about coming off wrong but wanting to reach out and augh some of you are so absurdly talented

❤️ How does the love in your heart affect how you RP? Any other notable emotions? 🪽 In what way is tumblr better than real life for you? Different from your personal dash, if you have one?

i am a naturally loving and kind person, it can make me very understanding and compassionate for what others are experiencing and going through. i am also considerate and try to make sure everyone is comfortable and having fun even if i can get a bit rambly. i have ASD and sometimes that can be hard for me bc i have a hard time reading others, so i ask a lot of questions, but it's because i care a lot about how the people in my life are doing. even if we're not writing. it's easier to type things to ppl than verbally speak them because my thoughts can get all jumbled IRL i don't have a personal dash i'm just here to write

🧤 Name the last need that you Had to take care of before rping!! Anything that made you leave dash, or before turning on the computer, etc.!

i had to spring clean my apartment and i wanted to die bc i stepped on a piece of glass and it was the worst while i was doing dishes :((( but now i'm good

🟢 Do You like to tell people when you're online? Why or Why not? 🪪 What's consistent between RP life and not? Anything about you bleed into your writing?

i don't tell ppl i'm online but i work from home so i can kinda always be online tbh i try not to bother them tho if i think they're busy or got other things to do. i'm a little bit of an anxious person sometimes when it comes to trying to DM ppl but i really do try my best i think what's been consistent for me is having a rough time relating to other ppl who share my special interests (thank you ASD for nothing) and that i can sometimes talk about things no one but me cares about for a minute. i have a lot of personality traits and things in common with Cloud that i'm not always proud of, but i'm working on, and i work real hard to tame every day and in therapy bc i believe in trying to become my best self. i think all of us put a degree of ourselves into our muses and that can make us really amazing at portraying them. i try to do it justice using my own personal experiences and trying to think about how they made me feel, so maybe it bleeds into it a little bit, but that's because i want to make sure i'm doing the best possible job i can at writing out the thoughts and feelings of what i'm trying to convey

🔦 Connect the dots between you and your muse. Ways that you're the same, different, last time you thought about them, etc.

we both struggle with autism, communication, anxiety and get kinda depressed a lot but we mask extremely well and tend to try to resolve it on our own. it's understood i think that our problems are our own and that we can't make others responsible for us or how we should go about processing things we need to. i can be a little aloof, sometimes quiet, but i am a lot funnier hehe with a broad spectrum of interests and things i like to do!! i'm a better cook, for instance, and i like learning about history, politics, philosophy, world histories, and mental health. i love musicals and poetry and high fantasy things!! i don't really like or watch much anime, but there's a couple of series i like, but i'm all about gaming and RPGs!! i thought a lot about him today bc i'm writing such a good romance between myself and a Tifa and it is melting me. we were talking about the mental illness that both of them deal with and how they process it together and it's been so sweet aaaa i also was thinking about one of my Aeriths and how the dynamic is different but both are so valid and i love how i'm writing two diff stories in tandem and it's the best

🎀 What's the last nice thing you saw pertaining to rp?

just so much good writing and interactions on my dash!! even if they're not mutuals i've been enjoying reading their stories and it's refreshing to see everyone be so into it without the drama. Twitter is a hellhole i am glad that i left holy moly i don't notice much fighting over ships over here and instead everyone is having fun, even with OCs, or not in my verse; and it's so nice to watch

Mun Communication Preferences based meme

🏠 Do you prefer to RP within just one fandom, or more? Which verses of yours are more, or less compatible with others? 🗺️ How open are you to meeting new people? Do you like your muses being mentioned IC? To just anyone, or only fandoms/friends that you know? 🪀 How do OOC posts make you feel? Do they affect your IC writing or flow, to know other muns better? 🐣 Is there anything you're new at, just now learning, or practicing when it comes to RP? 💡Do you get ideas from reading meta/headcanons/bios, or do those only pop up as you write? 💌 Have you ever hit it off with a mun right away? What were they like? How fast do you think it takes to warm up to new people? 💋 Are you silly ooc? Casual? Chatty? Do you prefer or enjoy things like small talk, when not rping? 🩵 Do you have any apparent flaws when it comes to RPing/interacting? Be gentle with yourself! 👾 Is knowing a fandom more comfortable when RPing, or do you prefer knowing muns? (Overall.) Do you try new things, or get into new fandoms? ✨ Are you easily intimidated by muns or muses that you admire? ❤️ How does the love in your heart affect how you RP? Any other notable emotions? 🪽 In what way is tumblr better than real life for you? Different from your personal dash, if you have one? 🧤 Name the last need that you Had to take care of before rping!! Anything that made you leave dash, or before turning on the computer, etc.! 🟢 Do You like to tell people when you're online? Why or Why not? 🪪 What's consistent between RP life and not? Anything about you bleed into your writing? 🔦 Connect the dots between you and your muse. Ways that you're the same, different, last time you thought about them, etc. 🎀 What's the last nice thing you saw pertaining to rp?

[whatisthiswritingthing]

Get Over Yourself - Lindsey Horan x Reader

Prompt: The Great Horan x reader? Where she and R aren’t a thing, but there are some feelings there. R always flirts with her and asks her out a lot, but Lindsey always rejects her. Eventually, R stops doing it bc she doesn’t want to continue being hurt and disappointed by the rejection. So, when R gets shipped with another teammate (you decide) by the fans, R has to flirt with them as PR stunt. Lindsey gets jealous and realizes that she wants to be the only one R flirts with. Cue an angsty fight between the two until she finally tells R how she feels and they make up.

“Hey Linds, do you believe in love at first sight?” Y/N smirked, slowly walking past Lindsey, pausing, waiting for the midfielder to acknowledge her. Once Lindsey looked up, cocking her head to the side, she continued, “or do you need me to walk by again?” Y/N winked, giving a slow, dramatic strut past.

Several players rolled their eyes, some boo’ing, while others squirted Y/N with water. Lindsey just rolled her eyes, fighting a smirk, “come on, let’s pass,” she reached a handout for Y/N to help tug her up.

Y/N grasped the offered hand, tugging Lindsey to a standing position. Lindsey, not expecting Y/N to actually pull her up, pushed herself up at the same time, crashing her body into Y/N’s.

“If you wanted to feel me up, you just had to ask,” Y/N smirked, hands on either of Lindsey’s hips to help steady her.

“You gotta buy me dinner first for that,” Lindsey gave Y/N a gentle shove to the chest before jogging away, tapping a ball with her.

“Yea?” Y/N hesitated, biting her lip, watching the blonde to see if she was serious or not. The friends had such a flirtatious relationship, the lines between friends and more had been blurred, were blurred. Hands would wander, hugs lingered, eyes always finding each other in crowded rooms. Y/N was the first person Lindsey would seek out when she needed to talk about something, needed comfort, or just needed to hear Y/N’s voice.

Anyone watching the two women could easily interpret the interactions would assume the friends were a couple. But they weren’t. The concept of a romantic relationship had never been discussed. Y/N had been working to feel out if it was more than harmless flirting for Lindsey, like it was for herself. But their friendship had been like this for so long, Y/N didn’t know how Lindsey felt.

Y/N knew how she felt, how she couldn’t help be drawn to Lindsey, and would be more than willing maintain the friendship as long as it meant she still got to be with the midfielder. Worried if Lindsey knew the true intention behind Y/N’s flirting it would push her away.

Y/N was brought out of her musings when Lindsey flipped a ball into her stomach.

“We playing or not you weirdo?” Lindsey smirked.

“Oh yea,” Y/N kicked the ball back, still only half paying attention. Her thoughts still on her feelings for the blonde, distracted by Lindsey implying she might want to go for dinner with Y/N, “so you, me, dinner. Then you can feel me up as much as you want,” the soccer player smirked, but her eyes critically watching the midfielder.

Lindsey scoffed, rolling her eyes, “What, like a date?” thinking it was a joke, laughed, juggling the ball a few times before passing it back, “like I would ever date you,” she continued to laugh alone.

Y/N felt her entire body heat up. Lindsey thought it was a joke. A joke they would ever date. That she was a joke, the concept of them as a joke, “hey, I was just trying to give you free access to touch all this,” she awkwardly motioned the length of her body, “your loss, “she tried to play it off, hoping her voice sounded more nonchalant than it really felt.

Thankfully, Y/N was saved from having to hear what Lindsey would say or do by practicing beginning.

For the next two hours, it was Y/N could do to avoid Lindsey. Switching lines for drills, have to re-tie her cleats several times, even requesting more work with the defenders to avoid all the midfielders. Everyone gave Y/N strange looks when she darted away at the water break and Lindsey reached out to touch a bruise forming on Y/N’s leg.

Somehow, Y/N managed to avoid the team for the next two days. Arriving just on time to meetings, meals, and practices. Leaving as soon as she could. She spent two days putting in extra workouts, extra training, or just wandering the mall. Anything that would keep her put of the hotel and away from the team. She was only trying to avoid the blonde, but she knew it was near impossible to avoid one person in the close group of women.

“Y/L/N!” one of the media coordinators called her as she tried to rush out of another meeting on the third day, “you and Mewis are up for media, let’s go.”

“Fuck” Y/N mumbled, slowly turning around to follow the media person.

“Don’t sound so excited!” Kristie slung an arm across Y/N’s shoulders, “we’re both hot, funny, and supposedly really good at soccer. We are a triple threat!” she tugged Y/N to a stop to jump on her back for a piggy back ride, “we get stuck, just flex these guns,” Kristie teasingly squeezed Y/N’s arms, “and they’ll all be so distracted we can just run away.”

That drew a genuine laugh from the soccer player, she tightened her hold under the blondes’ legs and carried her into the media room.

The media team all laughed as the pair walked in, Kristie having wrapped her legs around Y/N’s waist and around her shoulders., holding so tightly Y/N didn’t need to hold her. Looking similar to koala on a branch.

“USWNT presents ‘Koala or Kristie’. Where we show you a picture and you decide if it’s a koala or a Kristie,” Y/N announced to the media staff as she turned so Kristie could let go and drop right into the chair. When Kristie didn’t let go right away, Y/N reached behind her and began tickling the blonde until her grip let go and she fell into the chair.

The staff all laughed at the pairs antics, “you guys are already live,” one called while the two finished settling into the chairs, handing a phone over so they could read the questions being sent in.

Y/N smirked while she scrolled through the comments, letting Kristie introduce them and officially start their session.

“Alright Y/N/N,” Kristie leaned into Y/N’s side to attempt to read the phone and choose a question, “start off with a good one.”

“I have one of my own before I get to the fan ones,” Y/N giggled, grinning at the blonde while she tugged the phone away, “do you think you have the right koala-fications?”

Kristie stared at Y/N before glancing to the media staff behind the camera, “I think I’m busy today guys, I am available when I can do this with anyone else.”

Y/N maintained a serious expression, “that answers that, Kristie Mewis does not have the right koala-fications,” she began scrolling through the phone looking for a real fan question while Kristie turned and mock gasped at Y/N, “if I could play any other sport professionally, I would be a basketball player,” she continued on, ignoring Kristie staring at her.

Y/N deliberately focused on the phone, waiting for Kristie to say anything, her serious expression slipping and a smirk cracking through.

Kristie shook her head, “no way you could be a basketball player, you’re way too short,” she held a hand up next to her, drastically exaggerating Y/N’s height.

“But I’ve got mad hops, and big feet!” Y/N put her hands under her knee and lifted her leg, so her foot was in view of the camera.

“That just means you have big feet, not that it will make you a good basketball player,” Kristie laughed, pushing Y/N’s foot away from her.

“My mom said I’ll grow into them, there’s still a chance,” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. She knew she wouldn’t get any taller, but it was fun working Kristie up.

“You’re 28, you’re not growing into your feet at this point,” Kristie rolled her eyes, shaking her head, “read a question!”

Much of their live session went that way, very few questions being answered. The friends easily distracted, telling stories or just bantering, forgetting the camera was there entirely.

By the end of the say, the video had been picked apart, screenshots were made, and new a secret couple was formed.

Y/N had gone back to avoiding the team, her thoughts even more jumbled now that everyone assumed she was with Kristie. She didn’t have feelings for Kristie, she loved her like a friend and loved their easy going dynamic, but it would never be anything more that. And she knew Kristie felt the same.

“You’re avoiding me,” Lindsey said as greeting when Y/N walked into her room the next day.

“Fuck!” Y/N stepped back into the closed door, her body crashing against it, “what the fuck Lindsey?” she stomped further into the room.

“You’re avoiding me,” Lindsey repeated, sitting in a chair in the corning, watching Y/N move around the room.

“I’m not avoiding you,” Y/N continued to rummage around the room, mindlessly moving things around in order to look busy, “how’d you get into my room?”

“Kicked your rookie out, convinced the poor kid medical needed to redo their testing,” she answered quickly, “you’re avoiding me,” she said it a third time.

“I’m not avoiding you,” Y/N began to refold her suitcase to keep her hands busy and continue to avoid looking at the blonde critically staring at her, “but just to clarify, if I was, you thought the solution was to corner me in my room?”

“Is this because of practice the other day?” Lindsey pushed out of the chair and closed the distance between them, “because I know I’ve felt you up for less than dinner before,” she chuckled softly, stepping close, pressing her body against y/N’s placing a handout to land low on Y/N’s hip.

Y/N abruptly dropped the shirt she was folding and took two large steps away from Lindsey, “Fuck Lindsey, it’s not always about you. I’m not avoiding you. I haven’t hung out with anyone else,” she snapped, her jaw clenching while she stared hard at Lindsey.

Lindsey stared wide eyed at the sudden outburst before gathering herself, snapping back, “yet, Kristie gets to hang all over you.”

“You hang all over me all the time Lindsey, it’s the same thing. Besides, it was for the live thing we did,” Y/N didn’t know what she was so angry all of a sudden. She was avoiding Lindsey and Lindsey was just calling her out on the immature behaviour. Y/N really didn’t understand why she was upset, Lindsey had a right to confront her avoidance. Y/N was the one that had decided to pull away when it seemed Lindsey didn’t see their friendship as anything more. But what Y/N really didn’t understand, was why Lindsey was so upset about Kristie being on her.  

Lindsey knew why she was upset. She had spent the last two days always just missing Y/N and had replayed all their interactions before Y/N seemingly disappeared. The only thing she could come up with when she joked about them going out and shooting down Y/N’s dinner invite. Then she watched the live session Y/N did with Kristie, a few other players planning on throwing in their own obscure questions. The feeling she got in her chest watching Y/N carry Kristie in was a feeling she couldn’t place; she’d never felt it before.

Jealously was what Alex said.

Longing was what Kelley said.

Infatuation was what Rose said.

Gross was what Sam said, thinking it was directed at her sister.

Realization was what Sonnett said.

She sat silent the entire time, that feeling growing throughout. She ruminated on what her friends. None of the words fit, yet, they all fit. That was the problem, they all fit. She was realizing her feelings for Y/N. She was infatuated with how effortlessly funny she was. Longed to be the one Y/N was making smile the way she was making Kristie smile. And she jealous Kristie got to be the one Y/N was with while she had been avoided for two days.

So, Lindsey knew why she was upset. She was frustrated at herself because she wanted to tell Y/N how she felt but she couldn’t get the words out. Could only make a joke that didn’t end up being a great joke because now Y/N was upset too.

“Get over yourself Lindsey. You don’t get a say in who hangs on me and who doesn’t,” Y/N said, her voice had started firm, but sounded defeated by the end. She looked down before shuffling back to the bed to resume folding her clothes.

“But what if I did?” Lindsey rushed out, crinkling her face at how that sounded, implying Y/N was something someone controlled, “fuck, that came out wrong! I meant, I want hang all over you and you to hang all over me. And dinner, so I can feel you up. And I don’t want you avoiding me anymore.”

Y/N’s hands paused while she folder her shirt, before continuing, her eyes never leaving the shirt, “Lindsey, you don’t get to come in here pissed at me because you got jealous, then expect things to be alright.”

“I don’t want that or expect that! Yes, I got so jealous when I saw you and Kristie together and I didn’t even understand what it meant. But then I figured it out, I wanted all our banter and jokes about being together to be real. I don’t want to call you at the end of bad day, because I won’t have to because you’ll be in the bed next to me,” Lindsey saw Y/N’s hands stop moving and the shirt slip back on top of the suit case, Y/N’s arms dropping to her side, but she still wouldn’t look up.  

Lindsey took a tentative step closer, not wanting to spook the girl away like she had initially.

“I want it all to be real. I want everything we had a couple days ago again, but I want it to be real and more. I want this gross longing feeling to stop because I have you again,” taking a risk, she gently held Y/N’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

Y/N squeezed back before letting go, “Linds, just because you got jealous doesn’t me this is what you want. You like the idea of me, you don’t like me. And we can try and go back to how it was before, but my feelings are real, Lindsey, I know how I feel about you.”

“My feelings are real too!” Lindsey gripped Y/N’s hand again, tight, “this isn’t just me being jealous, watching you with Kristie was just what I needed to realize that I was just too scared to admit how I felt about you. I know how I feel about you,” she finished with conviction, reaching for other hand and squeezed both tight.

“Ok,” Y/N nodded, seeing the sincerity on Lindsey’s face.

“Ok?”

Lindsey was confused, she poured her heart out and she gets is ok?

“I don’t know your feelings Linds, but I trust you, and if you say they are real, then they’re real,” she smiled.

“So, can I take you for dinner?” Lindsey asked, still shy even though she knew the answer would be yes.

“And you can feel me up all you want after.”

[somnambulants]

Can i request readerxnatasha first time? All good if you don't write smut though xx

she’s the sunset in the west

word count: 1.7K notes: i kinda combined this with another prompt: "intertwining your hands with your lover while making love" bc im feeling v soft today lmao hope you enjoy!  warnings: allusions to lack of bodily autonomy/coerced interactions. 

minors pls don’t interact! 18+ only!

Sex has always been a weapon for her.

Natasha knows she can get whatever she wants from whoever she wants if she just flaunts herself in front of them enough to get their attention. She’s not naïve; her whole life has been set up for her to use her body to get what she wants.

It’s something they teach you in the red room from the time you can walk: your body is your biggest weapon. No one will anticipate you coming.  

And it’s true. 

No one ever sees her coming. 

Natasha has walked into many rooms and turned many heads and managed to take out multiple targets with all eyes on her and without anyone batting those eyes because they were so distracted by her.

It’s where the term black widow comes from. You see her but you don’t see her.

And that’s how she lives her life, with people seeing her but not seeing her. It’s what makes her such a good spy; such a good assassin. People might know she’s dangerous from the second they see her but they’ll be dead and she’ll be long gone before they realise exactly just how dangerous.

No one seems to see through it.

Until she meets you.

You, who met her while she was half naked and soaking wet, everything on display, after a mission had gone slightly wrong and didn’t even blink twice as you shrugged off your own jacket and handed it to her with a kind smile while some of her own teammates struggled to keep their eyes to themselves.

She’s pretty sure she fell in love with you right then and there, with your eyes on the ground, pointedly averted, a faint pink flush staining both of your cheeks and crawling down your neck.

--

Your relationship with Natasha is great. Amazing, in fact. You don’t think you could ask for better or more.

There’s just one thing really.

Sometimes you don’t feel like she’s really there when you’re being intimate. In the moment. Sometimes it’s as though she’s going through the motions and just doing what she feels needs to be done. Or what she thinks you want her to do.

Like right now.

She’s kissing you like she’s on autopilot. You love kissing her and you’re enjoying it, no doubt about that, as you sit splayed across her lap with her arms around you like a cage. 

 You love it. And her.

It just doesn’t feel quite right. 

You know, subconsciously, there must be a reason you’ve been dating for all these months and haven’t had sex yet. You know Natasha has had a lot of sex and you’re not exactly inexperienced yourself in that department.

And yet, every time you get close, she’ll suddenly push you away and make an excuse to leave. 

You know there must be a reason. You just don’t know why or how to broach the subject with her. 

Or you thought you didn’t.

“Why don’t you want to have sex?”

You don’t mean for it to slip out and you cover your mouth as soon as it does, but the damage is already done.

Below you, Natasha, hands still on your waist – at a perfectly decent height, as though she thinks your parents might walk in and catch you at any second – freezes and looks at you with wide eyes.

“I – I do,” she says after a second, stuttering a little over her words. It would be amusing in any other circumstance to see Natasha Romanoff, the most unflappable person you’ve ever met in your life, struggling for words.

You stare at her until she swallows and looks away from you. “I do,” she repeats, quiet in a way that is distinctly non-Natasha like. “I’m just not used to this.”

It doesn’t make sense to you, what she’s saying but you stay quiet, sensing she’s building up to something and not wanting to interrupt her when it seems like she’s opening up to you about something important.

“I don’t know how to do …,” she waves a hand in between you wordlessly. You know you must look as confused as you feel because she lets out a huff of frustration. “I don’t know. This –It’s hard. For me. To do this with someone I care about.”

She looks so defeated as the words leave her mouth. You suck in a breath as realisation starts to sink in, feeling nauseous at the implication you’re getting from what she’s just said.

“We don’t have to do anything, Nat, ” you say quietly, tilting your head so she has to look at you as you speak. “Not now. Not ever…. if that’s not something you want. I’m sorry if I --”

“No! No!” she interrupts. She seems to have pinpointed where your thoughts have gone and she leans in, looking at you seriously. “No. Of course I want to. I just don’t know how…I’m used to..”

She doesn’t have to finish. You know exactly what she means and for a second, you’re overcome with such vibrant anger at the thought that no one has ever treated her the way she deserves.

You want to make sure she never feels like that again.

“Okay,” you say slowly, as a plan formulates in your head. You’re not sure if it’s the right thing to do but Natasha is looking at you uncertainly, like she thinks you’re going to up and run at any minute so you have to act fast. “Okay, if you’re sure. Can I try something? Please?”

Still looking uncertain, Natasha nods straight away. You lean in to kiss her gently and she immediately reciprocates, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss as though you’ll pull away at any moment.

After you break the kiss, you slide off her lap and then off the couch all together, kneeling down so you’re in front of her.

There’s confusion in her eyes as you do but you don’t address it until you’re settled.

You place your hands on her thighs. “Tell me to stop, okay?” The if you’re uncomfortable goes unsaid but you know she must be able to see it written across your face because she nods, biting her lip.

Hands still on her thighs, you kiss every spot you can reach and are delighted as she lets out a little laugh.

Encouraged, you continue until you reach her thighs.

Watching her carefully, you shift, helping her out of her underwear and pulling it down her legs. As you do, she looks back at you evenly, a little smile now playing around the corners of her mouth.

Internally, you breathe a sigh of relief. This was the right move then. You’re sure of it now. 

This is the most relaxed you’ve seen her like this, you think. You hate that you hadn’t noticed any of this earlier.

But at least, you can do your best from now on by knowing what to look for.

You move your hands, and seeming to read your mind, she meets you in the middle, letting you intertwine your fingers on either side of her thighs as you rest your head on her stomach, watching her for any signs that she isn’t as comfortable with this as she seems. “Okay?”

You can’t see anything in her eyes to indicate it isn’t but still, you wait until she nods, giving you the green light. 

“Yeah,” she says, as you lean back down. Her hips buck a little at the first touch of your tongue against her and she lets out a little breath, biting her lip as she looks at you with darkened eyes: “Yes.”

You continue, encouraged by her little moans and sounds that she makes no attempt to stifle, wasting little time detaching one of your hands to press a finger into her and inhaling sharply as you feel how wet she is around you.

Your actions are rewarded with a moan that quicky turns into a high-pitched gasp as you add another finger quickly after.

You thrust into her, picking up speed as she moans, shoving her hips onto your fingers eagerly in a plaintive request for more. She gets louder as you add a third and you feel her stretch around you. Louder still, when you brush over her clit with your thumb. 

“Okay?” you ask again, a little teasingly. No doubt hearing it, she glares down at you but can’t quite hide the smile on her face, pushing her hips up to meet your fingers.

The smile quickly crumbles in favor of a small cry as you thrust into her harder. Her eyes flutter a little and she bites down on her lower lip. “So okay.”

With your fingers now inside her, you turn your attention to her clit, laving your tongue with it and trying not to grin when she cries out, squeezing you so tightly it’s hard for you to keep going at the pace you are.

She squeezes your hand, digging her nails into your skin as her thighs lock around your head and keep you in place.

In response, you double your efforts and are rewarded as she starts to fall apart above you. 

There’s blissful white noise in your head as she arches her back with a moan – filthier and louder than the rest, as she comes -- cutting off your air supply entirely to the point that you wouldn’t be surprised if you blacked out.

You wouldn’t mind. In fact, you think this would be the best possible way to go.

When she finally releases you, you stay where you are, ignoring the cramp in your legs and rest your head on her stomach again, gazing up at her as she comes down, still twitching occasionally.

She runs her free hand through your hair rhythmically as her chest rises and falls, trying to catch her breath. 

She looks like, for lack of better words, a mess. Hair sticking to her neck, cheeks flushed. She’s still wearing her bra, but the straps are now falling down, off her shoulders.

You think you probably don’t look any better yourself.

She’s so beautiful you think you could stare at her for the rest of your life and not get bored.

You squeeze the hand you’re still holding and her eyes flutter open, meeting yours immediately. “All good?” you ask softly.

She lets out an incredulous sounding little huff, pulling you up so you’re in her lap and she can kiss you.

You moan as she licks the taste of herself off your lips.

“Very much good,” she says, playfully, when you pull apart to breathe for a second.

She kisses you again, deeper and more intensely before shoving you away and reversing your positions. “Your turn.”

[deonideatta]

It's not peak brain hours for me rn, so I'm going to write everything about the sunah-mjh conspiracy and what it implies (or at least how I understand it) out to organise it in my head. Pls correct me if I've gotten anything wrong or missed anything

So all in all the goal was to plant ga on as a spy/weakness using isaac's face as an in. At first I thought that mjh had been the one to steer ga on towards being a judge, and I still think that's possible, but I don't think he approached ga on solely with the intent to use him tho. Based on his face at the graduation it seems he already knew her before that. She probably approached him and offered him a position as chief justice in exchange for manipulating ga on. (Also, what's his deal resigning then? What does he really want out of all of this?). I don't think he took care of ga on after his parents died solely for that reason tho, bc i think he's established as a friend of ga on's father, which is how they came to know each other.

Ga on would then be used to attack yohan in the future. On a basic level that meant feeding information back to mjh/acquiring evidence of yohan's shady dealings so they could take him down. Along the line yohan and ga on kinda grew attached to each other, which threw off the plan bc now ga on wasn't willing to betray yohan for mjh. However on a deeper level ga on was meant to serve as a weakness for yohan, emotionally, which was made more possible by them getting closer.

Mjh then uses soo hyun to plant doubts in ga on's mind surrounding the church fire. Then, they kill off soo hyun, and mjh uses soo hyun's death and the church fire to plant suspiscion. Yohan pushes ga on off the edge in the end with the death penalty thing, and mjh takes the opportunity to collect the returns on his investment, talking ga on into outing the court as fake. So in the end ga on's attachment to yohan ends up being beneficial to sunah-mjh, bc it drives him to reveal the truth so he can stop yohan from going too far.

It seems like things are over for yohan, but then it turns out the public still supports him, to the point of wanting to make him president. Deciding to go in for the kill, sun ah-mjh trick ga on into thinking yohan did the church fire and killed soo hyun, prompting the stabbing. Now it seems sun ah did this for the added emotional blow, bc she could have just framed yohan and left it at that. Rather she chooses to target what's closest to him, the two people he cares about most. And we reach the tragic conclusion.

Now, what does this mean for ga on's character? We know that at least his friendship with soo hyun came about free from sun ah's plans. It predated his relationship with mjh, so at least we can assume that his interactions with soo hyun were genuine, and her advice to him was as well, though it may have been influenced by mjh. We know that Ga on becoming yohan's associate judge was not a coincidence, but it's not clear if ga on going to the kang mansion was intended by sunahmjh, bc though we know that the foundation planted the bomb it would be a bit of a gamble to assume it would lead to yohan taking ga on to his house. Either way the closeness achieved there and the drive to help yohan and elijah and feel sympathy for them are all things ga on did on his own

As for ga on choosing to side with yohan over mjh. I don't think this was in the plan, bc obviously if ga on changes sides he'll stop leaking info to mjh. So we can assume that that was ga on's decision, influenced of course by yohan. Funny how we all analysed the ways that yohan manipulated ga on while the real manipulation was coming from mjh lol. Then again, while it might not serve mjh's agenda (whatever that is, we actually don't know) it also serves sun ah's agenda in that it makes ga on more of a weakness to yohan, as he grows fonder of him.

I also dont think sunah-mjh accounted for ga on's dark side. Yohan drew that out, and used it to convince ga on of his way of doing things. It seems mjh did put a lot of effort into making ga on the poster boy of 'righteousness', so that he would remain at odds with yohan, so obviously it doesn't work in his favour to have ga on secretly have a dark side that relates to yohan. Additionally, there's no way mjh or sun ah played a role in ga on's parents' death (or is there..? Mjh has been mentioned to be a friend of ga on's father. hmmm), so whatever effects that had on him (I.e. his thirst for revenge) would have been out of their control.

It seems though that when ga on went to yohan's side, they simply changed the plan to account for it. Sow seeds of doubt via soo hyun, then kill soo hyun and make it look like yohan did it. And then yohan himself inadvertently helped by busting out the whole death penalty. In the end it worked out even better for them, bc ga on gained a lot more insider knowledge by going to yohan's side, and again, his concern for yohan also spurred him into action in order to stop yohan from crossing a line he couldn't uncross, the only way that seemed available.

And then when the situation seems to be turning in yohan's favour, they decide to deliver the final blow, both to him and to ga on. It's devastating to yohan because it targets the two people he cares about most, and threatens to reveal the secret he has sacrificed so much to keep, for elijah's sake. And it's devastating to ga on because suddenly it puts his whole life into question, and he's suddenly faced with the realization that a lot of what he's done had been carefully laid out for him in advance, that a lot of his life has been a tool in someone's big plan. And in the process he has lost all the things he had that were real: his relationships with soo hyun, yohan and elijah. Imagine the weight of realising that all the choices you agonised over, that you made because you believed you were doing the right thing, turn out to be the result of careful manipulation from someone you trusted like a parental figure, and that all the things that could have stopped the force behind that figure have been destroyed because of you and those choices.

Overall it's a very insidious and downright evil plan, especially because it hinged a lot on taking advantage of a young man lost in the wake of tragic events in order to steer his life in a direction meant to serve your sick and twisted goals. And then continuing to do so until your plans bear fruition, then shattering his whole world and moving on. All for the purpose of mentally tormenting some guy who wasn't nice to you when you were a maid that stole things from his house

My only issue with all this is how sun ah knew yohan was going to do all the things he was going to do so far in advance that she could plan ga on's career path accordingly? You could argue sun ah planted ga on purely based on her obsession with yohan, not necessarily expecting him to wage war on the elites. She may have then seen the benefit of ga on as a weakness of yohan's when the fight started and played up that aspect of the plan. Or she set up the live court for the express purpose of having yohan and ga on meet? Not clear on this, if anyone has any thoughts help a sister out.

We'll probably get more info in the finale, and I'll update this post if I think of anything new

[hypmic-writings]

Hi there! I love your writing about jakurai and I want some moreee heehee. A scenario where jakurai is just so busy and his so misses him like A LOT but doesn't want to get in his way. But, the so kinda makes it obvious bc they can't hide their feelings (like from gestures or whatever). If you think it's too specific, feel free to change/alter it to your liking! Tysm!!!

Oooooh boy, this was intense to write for sure, but I love these kinds of prompts so it was totally worth it. Also, I really love imagining Jakurai comforting his s/o so that was nice Definitely a bit of angst in here, but there’s some fluff at the end too, so I hope that’s okay and that you like it~

--

Jakurai was someone that could read people in seconds.

Throughout your relationship, he was always able to tell what mood you were in, what you needed, or even what you wanted. Sometimes he could tell these things before you could even do so yourself. You knew this and absolutely loved it about him…sometimes you even depended on it.

So when you had barely seen your fiancé at all during the week and were missing him with all your heart, you vowed not to show it so easily to him. You knew he was working long hours at the hospital and picking up extra shifts due to a rise in the number of patients. You knew he was helping people and saving lives. You knew that he was putting his all into doing work for the greater good.

Did that make you selfish for wanting him to spend more time with you? You weren’t sure, and you might even feel a bit guilty for being upset at the lack of interaction with him, but you didn’t want to show it.

That didn’t mean he couldn’t see it.

-- 

‘I’ll be home late again tonight. Sorry, darling’ – 19:33

You stared down at your phone on the kitchen counter, still holding onto the spoon you were using to cook the ramen for that evening’s dinner. You let out a small sigh and dropped it heavily in the pot, feeling mixed emotions of anger and sadness flow through you.

You quickly texted him back with a reassurance that it was fine and that he should stay safe before finishing the task at hand. Once the ramen was made, you placed it in a bowl and sat down at the dinner table to eat. Alone. Again.

Once you were finished, you took a shower and made your way to the couch. You sat down, cuddling yourself as tightly as possible under the blanket but unable to fill the coldness you felt. Your eyes began to droop and feel heavy in the darkness of the room and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep.

You awoke to strong arms wrapping around you and pulling you up from the couch. Willing your eyes open with a groan you could only vaguely make out Jakurai’s form in the darkness.

“Jak…u…rai…” you mumbled incoherently as he placed you on the bed gently.

“I’m sorry I woke you, love,” he said, his voice low and soft. He moved to pull his arms away but you tugged him back towards you with whatever strength you had in your half-asleep state.

“No…please stay…I’ve missed…you…” you muttered, your voice cracking a bit. Your exhausted mind could only think of the one thing you had been deprived of lately – Jakurai. You received a deep chuckle from the man as he shifted to sit up on the bed next to you, rubbing small circles soothingly into your back.

“Of course,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Feeling him warm and right beside you, you were soon swept away by sleep once more.

When you awoke, you reached over to the other side of the bed, feeling the empty space and letting out a heavy sigh. He was gone. Again. You reached for your phone, already knowing that there would be a text from him saying that the hospital called him in early, but to your surprise, there was none.

You brought yourself out of bed and slowly made your way into the living room.

“Jakurai?” you called out, your voice groggy from not being used. You spotted him on the sofa, pulling on his shoes with a bag resting next to him. When he heard your voice, he looked up at you and frowned slightly.

“Ah, Y/N. It’s early, you should go back to sleep and get some rest,” he said, standing up and making his way to you. Any hope you had of him being able to spend the day with you was dashed when you saw his white coat.

“Oh…you’re going to work? I thought you were off today…” you stated, slowly in as measured of a voice as possible. Jakurai sighed and nodded.

“Unfortunately. The hospital called and said they needed me to come in. We’re a bit short staffed right now so…” Jakurai trailed off slightly as he watched you avert your gaze from his.

“Okay, that’s fine, I understand,” you said, trying to smile but failing miserably. Y

“Y/N,” Jakurai said, gently as he reached out for your hand. You held your breath and moved, keeping your eyes downwards as you turned your back to him to face the kitchen.

“You should at least let me make you some lunch, you have to make sure you eat if you’re going to be working so much. I think there’s so ramen from – ”

You were cut off by the sensation of Jakurai slowly pressing himself against your back and wrapping you in his arms from behind. You tried to move or say anything, but your body seemed to be frozen. You hadn’t been this close to him in days but it had felt like an eternity to you.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Jakurai whispered into your neck where he was resting your head. At his words you felt the hot sting of tears begin to well up and your throat begin to constrict.

No. You didn’t want to cry. You didn’t want to make him feel bad about doing his work – his passion. But you had just missed him so goddam much, that it hurt your heart to think about. Your mind ran a million miles an hour as Jakurai continued, speaking slowly and softly

“This has been hard on you, hasn’t it? I can tell it has. The long hours and night shifts…we haven’t had a proper conversation at all this week.” His hair slightly tickled your neck and you closed your eyes tightly, not wanting to speak for fear of breaking down.

“I should have talked about my schedule with you first. I’m so incredibly sorry for making you feel this way, my love. I should have known -”

“Stop it…please…” you croaked, interrupting Jakurai as you turned around, still in his embrace, to look up at him with eyes glistening with tears. He was slightly surprised at your words, but his look quickly changed into one of knowing as he began to understand your position.

“This is all my fault, not yours. I’m the one that’s being selfish! I’m being possessive and ridiculous and…” you said, a bit louder in frustration as your gaze became blurry with tears. You took a moment to gulp for air before continuing.

“Why aren’t you mad at me right now?! I’m so stupid, I mean, look at me! I’m crying because I haven’t seen you in days, meanwhile you’ve been of saving people’s lives and doing things for the greater good…and…and…”

This time, you cut yourself off as you gave into your emotions and began to sob hard. Jakurai instinctively pulled you into his chest with one arm and wrapped the other around the back of your head to support it. He slowly knelt down to the floor and rocked you ever so gently as he hushed you quietly.

“It’s alright, Y/N,” he whispered. “I’m here with you now, you can let everything out.”

Jakurai held you closely as you let out your wave of emotions, sputtering incoherent sentences into his chest every now and then that were met with soft touches of love from your fiancé. He waited for your sobs to subside a bit before tugging on your cheek lightly to pull your gaze up to him. As soon as your eyes met his, he gave you the gentlest of smiles.

“Listen to me, my love. I would never be angry at you for feeling upset. You’re haven’t been selfish at all and please don’t say those things about yourself. Your feelings are valid, Y/N. Nothing that’s happened is your fault,” he insisted, his words strong and comforting.

Jakurai’s reassuring words cascaded around you as your labored breathing began to return to normal with a few small hitches hear and there. You closed your eyes once more and shook your head.

“I’m sorry,” you began but Jakurai hushed you once more.

“Please, you don’t have anything to apologize for,” he said, kissing your forehead lightly. You gave up trying to argue, instead finding comfort in the warmth of his embrace. The two of you stayed like that for a few moments before he pulled away slightly.

“I have the day off tomorrow and I’ll make sure to tell them I can’t come in at all. So why don’t you tell me, love, what do you want to do?” he asked, gazing at you lovingly as he brushed away a stray tear from your cheek. You let out a small hiccup before leaning over to press your lips against his softly.

“I don’t care. I just want to spend it with you.”  

[listless-brainrot]

tagged by @scrtminlikesdrawing and @harutheestallion !! thank you sm for tagging me <3 <3

prompt-share your: 

first fic: my VERY first posted fic was on ff.net and was. it was a total drama oc cast thing. i don’t really remember most of it bc i’ve blocked most of my younger fan days out of my mind but ESPECIALLY that. as for my first official atla fic it was bending expectations (which i’ve unfortunately deleted for the time being but it will come back! i just wanna flesh it out more)

favorite fic: i have a few!! i don’t read fic as much but fics i go back and revisit are Until Ba Sing Se, Not Ready to Make Nice, and Kiss Me?, and i love all of these for different reasons that i will list Now

>Until Ba Sing Se: the first Jetru-centric fic i found that made me go oh? other people,,, ship what i do? i have content? and seeing it really inspired me to go all out and write my own stuff!! not only that, it’s really well written, and takes place somewhere often loathed by most- The Great Divide. it also gives this really good interpretation of jet that feels practically ripped from my own mind, and haru’s characterization is pretty good as well, giving him a nice relationship to both of his parents. jet and haru’s relationship slowly develops over the course of the oneshot, and it’s just really sweet. the part where they share blankets?? lives in my mind rent free. it all ends.... uhhh... it all ends with... it... i’m sad. but everything else is really good!!

>Not Ready to Make Nice: plays with a concept that i’ve always struggled with for some reason, and that is jet living after lake laogai. not that it’s a concept i hate, there’s just a lot of questions that need answering, ranging from ‘would bee and longshot stick around?’ to ‘does jet ever get his swords back?’ to ‘what now?’. i think this fic really takes these questions and not only answers them, but runs with them. jet’s portrayal in this fic is incredibly nuanced, and it really feels like arthur has such a good grip of what exactly makes him tick. not only that, hama!! dude hama is in this fic and she has a personality and her and jet interact and it’s really good and you should all read it Right Now

>Kiss Me?: this is one of my fav fics for a lot of reasons, and one of them just has to be that sense of pure puppy love that you don’t really see in most fics, especially with haru and jet. when people write these characters, they often forget that they’re kids, teenagers at that, and teens tend to be stupid and inexperienced. that comes to a head here, where haru finds out that jet’s never really kissed anyone before. i love how jet is the inexperienced one, and it’s just really funny to me, and haru’s reaction is really endearing. there’s just this sense of both of them having these mutual feelings for each other that feels natural and really sweet, and it culminates into a nice kiss. a win for the jetru nation, truly

as for fav fics in terms of my own i think hooked is pretty up there

most recent fic: in terms of being posted?? i saw a boy at the party, a modern au oneshot. in terms of being updated?? hooked!! my biggest jetru project. 25k+ words and i’ve barely even STARTED

fic with the most notes: before i deleted it, bending expectations had the most hits, but now that i have, hooked does!! as for notes taken and outlining and other things... hooked. hooked is a HUGE undertaking you guys have no idea

a line or two from a wip: lemme see what i can find... digs through my snippets to give you a piece of a little oneshot i’ve been meaning to flesh out:

The war was over.

Somehow, against every single odd… it was over.

Of course it had ended in spectacle. Why wouldn’t it? The very sky itself had been a display of the sheer power it took to take their greatest enemy down, blinding hues of red and blue locked in a battle for dominance- for victory. 

And then, the red that entrenched the sky, threatening to saturate it in its bloody hues for all of eternity, was outshined, outright engulfed by the swaths of blue energy that grew brighter and more intense, eradicating its opposite, reducing it to nothing. And then there was silence.

favorite character to write for (and why): i only ever write these two exclusively, but it’s really a tie between haru and jet. both of them have these specific structures i try to follow closely, and their characterizations are extremely specific, but i think that’s what adds to the appeal. jet is admittedly harder to write than haru, but he’s also Fun to write. just seeing the difference between their respective povs which are so similar and yet so different, makes them an absolute joy to write, even if i suffer because there are just so many moving parts

character(s) you find hard to write: funnily enough, smellerbee’s kinda hard to write- i really like writing her spunky nature, but i give her very specific dialogue tics that i constantly have to keep track of. solely because of that, she’s pretty difficult to write, but i think it pays off!! i also have to flesh out her characterization a little more, and in general Write her more, but i like what i have so far!!

tagging: anyone who would like to do this!

[fabulouspotatosister]

Sugar, Yes Please

Summary: You first meet the Doctor standing in your kitchen, opening jars of sugar.

A/N: This fic was inspired by this prompt by @drink-it-write-it​ on tumblr! Originally I was going to follow this prompt to the letter, and then it went in a different direction, but that is definitely still where I got the inspiration from. Enjoy the fic!

Word Count (bc man this got LONG): 6,991

Here’s a link to the AO3 version in case you vibe with that more

The café, for all intents and purposes, was your home.

With its old polished wood floors and pastel blue walls, it was probably someone’s aesthetic dream. You could look back fondly on the long hours you spent wiping down counters and delivering coffee to the college students that frequented the place. Every round table held a wealth of memories – if you looked between the cracks in the wood, you’d find conversations, sweet words exchanged over a pastry or bitter stares over glasses of cold iced tea, each time a microcosm of human interaction. Whole lives had been lived in the Heaven Café – people came and people went, each time leaving the place a little different.

After the original owner – a lady who wore predominantly pink frocks and frilly aprons and was very young at heart – moved out of the café after she got married, she gave you the keys to the second floor of the building.

They used to call her “Miss Baker”, and insisted the nickname be passed to you when you got put in charge.

The second floor was a nice apartment with a pretty balcony and big windows that let in a lot of sunlight and/or moonlight. It was strange for the first few nights, sleeping in a bed clearly made for two, but after a few weeks, it was second nature to fall into the cozy patchwork sheets after a long day.

The Heaven Café was your home. And wouldn’t you be mad if someone broke into your home?

The moon was high in the sky that night, and its light spilled into your bedroom, illuminating all the corners of the room and bathing everything in a silver light. There was nothing but the sound of passing cars and crickets. It looked like a good night to watch the stars and fall asleep looking out the window – until you heard a strange noise from outside the window.

You sat up. It was a wheezing, groaning noise, that faded in and out, growing to a crescendo until it finally disappeared. The building was an old one. You were no stranger to strange noises in the night, it came with the territory. But that was something you had never heard before. Pushing yourself off your bed, you leaned out the window to look at the street below.

It was still the same street, save for a police box that was placed further down. Weren’t those things really old? Did anyone still use those?

There was another noise from downstairs. Something metal, clattering to the ground, perhaps a pan or a tray. And then – panicked muttering. It sounded like it was from a young man, with a British accent… What was going on down there?

You tried to make sure that your brain didn’t go to the worst possible situation – that you were being robbed. Throwing on a jacket that you had draped over a chair and turning on the flashlight on your phone with trembling hands, you opened the creaky door out of your bedroom and headed down the stairs into the café’s kitchen. Why would anyone rob you? You didn’t earn much, just enough to pay utility bills and buy groceries; you didn’t even have any jewelry! And if you had anything of value it was probably just stuff that looked expensive, like a large apple sculpture that was just plastic.

The rooms downstairs, unlike the upstairs apartments, didn’t have big windows, just windows that were enough to keep the place cool and ventilated when it got a bit too hot inside. This had the unintended side effect of making the place dark as hell when it was nighttime.

The light from your phone’s flashlight was the only thing that pierced through the darkness, your phone’s case suddenly feeling very slippery as your hands started to sweat. It’s not a robber, you thought, trying to calm the panic that was rising up your throat. It’s probably just a rat, or something. But that didn’t explain the young man’s voice, unless rats could talk now. Which was stupid, since rats couldn’t talk…

You let your rambling thoughts keep you company as your bare feet stepped against wooden floorboards. At least it wasn’t frighteningly quiet anymore – you heard the sound of something being pushed against a counter, and then more muttering. After that was the sound of someone rummaging through utensils, the clink clank of metal against metal echoing against the quiet halls of the building.

The kitchen door was closed, but light spilled out of the gap between the door and the floor.

Turning off the flashlight on your phone, you turned the device over in your hands. Would it hurt someone if you hit them over the head with it? What were you even going to say? Who are you? What are you doing here? Don’t move? You weren’t intimidating. You were dressed in loose clothes and a jacket. The worst you could do was cry for help, which would only work if anyone was still awake at this hour.

Now that you were closer you could hear shuffling, and you could hear the voice that you had heard before a little clearer – saying something about sugar.

You took in a deep breath, releasing it through your nose. Holding your phone above your head like a makeshift weapon, you reached for the handle of the kitchen door, letting your fingers curl around the old metal.

Okay. Three… two… one -!

You flung the door open – but the sight before you was enough to shock the words out of you.

You were right about the clattering noise. There was indeed a tray that had fallen on the kitchen’s tiled floor, one of the muffin trays. The rest of the room was in disarray. Most of the cupboards had been opened and ransacked, bags of flour had been laid out on the floor and someone had broken into your sugar supply, the various jars of all the different sugars laid out on a counter. And in the middle of all that, behind the counter opening one of the sugar jars, was a young man in a tweed jacket with floppy hair and a bowtie.

You stood frozen in the doorway, phone still held aloft like you were going to bring it down over his head – the young man had frozen in his tracks, his finger held in the air as he was about to stick it in a jar of confectionary sugar.

Suddenly, the young man jumped back, slamming the lid back onto the jar. “Miss Baker! I thought you were closed!” he cried, backing up against the counter behind him.

So - he was the source of the muttering and talking. You still couldn’t wrap your head around how and why he was in your kitchen at an ungodly hour raiding your sugar. And why he called you “Miss Baker”.

“How did you get in?” was the only thing that came out of your mouth. “Did you break in?”

“I expertly maneuvered my way in,” the young man said proudly. His smile fell slightly after you raised an eyebrow at him – “I broke in.”

“I should be calling the police right now,” you muttered, and the young man nodded.

“You should be calling the police. Upstanding citizen, you are – but don’t, please.” He held his hands up in surrender. “I thought you were closed, and that I could pop in for a little visit without you getting mad, but I forgot that you tend to be awake at this hour.”

He forgot that you were usually awake late at night? You didn’t even know this man. “Why the sugar?” you asked, using your free hand to gesture at the jars of sugar while keeping your other hand on your phone in case he tried anything. Which he probably wouldn’t, to be honest, as he was quite tall and lanky and didn’t look built for combat.

The young man looked at the sugar, then back to you, clapping his hands together. “I needed some for some defense against some Yamar natives – they don’t have much sugar on their planet, so their bodies aren’t built for handling it. Like snails to salt, or so I’m told. I was testing these to see which ones would be the sweetest – you’ve told me this before, Miss Baker, but bakers on other planets right now would be very jealous of you, perfect defense against the Yamars.”

You couldn’t even form a good coherent thought. Yamars? Other planets? Was he talking about aliens?  “You’ve told me this before”? Was this man crazy?

“I’m not –” You shook your head. “I’m not Miss Baker, you must have the wrong person.”

“No, no I’m sure I’ve got the right time,” the young man said, taking a look at his watch.

“Hang on – who are you?” you asked.

The man froze, his eyebrows raised in surprise before his face fell, disappointed.

“Oh no,” he said simply, sticking his hands in his pockets and suddenly looking very sheepish. “I’ve come a little too early, haven’t I? Tell me, do you know who I am?”

“Am I supposed to?” you countered back, and the man chuckled, looking down at the floor.

“Yes, but also no. Not yet,” the man replied. He took the jar of confectionary sugar and screwed the lid on tight, then bundled it into his arms like you would a small child. “It’s complicated.”

It was definitely complicated. The young man stepped over the fallen muffin tray, grimacing at the room. He squeezed past you, still standing in the doorway, his shoes making small sounds against the floor. “I’m sorry about the mess– I really must be off, thank you for the sugar– “

“W-wait!” you cried, turning to face him, “You need to come back and explain– “

But the young man was already gone.

You shook your head, lowering your phone, suddenly very tired after all that. It had been a long night, and it was very late.

Maybe this is just all some strange dream, you thought as you switched off the lights in the kitchen. Shutting the door quietly, your thoughts still racing at a mile a minute, you pulled your jacket tighter against yourself as you began the journey back upstairs to your bed, where you could forget all about the weird events of the night. I’ll wake up tomorrow morning and the kitchen will be clean. There was never a strange man there looking for sugar.

Nothing happened.

---

Something had happened.

You didn’t know why you woke up early the next day, before anyone else had arrived, to check the kitchen. Part of you wanted to be ignorant, to have one of your employees tell you that the kitchen was a mess and then tell you that it was probably rats because it should be rats – but there was another part of you that was curious, didn’t care if it killed you, and was okay with satisfaction not bringing you back.

The kitchen was still a mess. The bags of flour were still left on the floor, the jars of sugar were still arranged on the counter, cupboards and cabinets were still ajar, and the fallen muffin tray was still lying sadly on the floor.

You sighed, picking your way through the mess to pick up the tray – turning it over in your hands, it wasn’t damaged. That was good. God knows what the previous owner would do if you dented some of her equipment.

So last night hadn’t been a dream. The whole thing with the strange man asking for sugar had been unfortunately real, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your brain.

You were planning to call the police – but again, what would you tell them? A strange man broke into my establishment and took a jar of sugar. No, he didn’t harm me, he just confused me immensely. No, I can’t tell you where he went, because he disappeared. Go after him? Why would I do that? Lost in thought, you didn’t notice the door to the kitchen swinging open.

“This place is a mess.”

You turned around, muffin tray still in your hands, to see a young lady in an apron wringing her hands together – “Erica!”

“That’s my name,” Erica said, smoothing over the front of the Heaven Café’s uniform apron – hand-sewn by the previous owner for all her old employees. They were pink, frilly things. They were like hand-me-downs, and like most of the things in the building, were to be treated with the utmost care. “What did you do, boss? It looks crazy in here.”

“Long story,” you sighed, trying to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. Erica simply hummed and made her way to the center of the room, hoisting up one of the bags of flour. Erica was a fairly new hire, but she was nice and attentive and kept the atmosphere cheery even during the rush hour. “It was a weird night.”

“I’ve had a few weird nights,” Erica said, pushing a bag of flour into a cabinet and slamming the door. Her hand hovered over the counter, then sugar jars, her palm just inches away from the sweet powder. “Ugh, what’s with all the sugar? One, two… five… one of the jars is missing.”

“That’s part of the weird night.” You opened the cabinet with all the trays and placed the muffin tray at the very top, balancing precariously on top of a mixing bowl. “Why are you interested in the sugar jars?”

“For you, boss. I don’t touch the stuff.”

You shook your head. “Well, some guy just came in and took one of the sugar jars, talking about aliens. I thought I was dreaming.”

Erica was quiet for a moment, before she asked, “What did he look like?”

“It was late, but uh…” You pressed your thumb against your temple, trying to dig the young man’s description out of your still very confused brain. “He was a tall guy? He had a British accent, he was wearing a tweed jacket with a bowtie, I mean who dresses like that these days?”

“…A tweed jacket?” Erica glanced towards the door of the kitchen.

“Exactly! It’s 2020, I don’t know why someone would be –“

“Boss.” Erica tapped your shoulder. She drew her mouth into a thin line, closing her hand into a fist and bringing it to her chest. “Your mystery guy might be here.”

“What?” You whipped around, slamming the doors to the tray cabinet shut – the metal things clattered against each other loudly and you winced. Erica shrugged, her face reflecting your confusion.

“I mean, you said no one dresses like him anymore, right? He’s sitting by the window, just reading the menu.” Erica turned to look at the door again. “I tried to approach him and he said he was looking for Miss Baker.”

“For the last time, I’m not Miss Baker.”

“You technically are.” Erica shrugged. “Do you know him?”

“Why would I know him? He broke into the building last night!” you said, raising your hands up in the air. Erica raised her eyebrows at you. “What? I’m not going to go talk to him.”

“He’s a customer. And he is your mystery man.” Erica was already making her way to the front of the café. She stopped, resting her hand on the doorway and grinning widely. “And he’s pretty cute, not gonna lie.”

You felt your face grow warm. “He’s not my ‘mystery man’, I don’t know what you’re – Erica! Erica! Get back here!”

You only heard Erica’s laugh echo down the hall. You sighed for maybe the fiftieth time that day, running your hand over your face – the day could not get any weirder.

You were about to be proven wrong.

Erica was right. Your “mystery man” (God, why were you calling him that it sounded so ridiculous) was indeed sitting by the window – his face was covered by the menu, the only thing you could clearly see being his long hair that flopped against his forehead. To someone else, he would have looked like he was reading, but there were a lot of customers like him. People that came in just to hide. And he was hiding.

From me? Why would he be hiding from me? If anything, I should be hiding from him, the weirdo…

The young man peeked over the menu, his eyes darting across the room before they finally landed on you. The corners of his eyes crinkled and even though the rest of his face was covered, you could tell he was smiling – what kind of man breaks into your home, steals sugar, disappears, and then smiles at you like nothing happened the next day?

The sight of a young man dressed in a tweed jacket and a bowtie sitting in a cute café was a lot to take in. Grabbing a spare notepad and tucking a pen behind your ear, you made your way towards the young man, plastering a smile onto your face – “Hi, welcome to Heaven Café, what can I get you?”

The young man set the menu down, and your breath caught in your throat. Erica was right again – at this point, you probably owed the girl money – your “mystery man” was actually quite cute. The young man lifted his wrist to glance at his watch before smiling nervously and setting the menu flat on the table.

“I’ve come to apologize,” he said.

You customer-service smile dropped. “For last night.”

“Yes,” he replied, “although somewhat preemptively. It hasn’t happened yet. Or it will. I am sorry, though.”

“What do you mean, ‘it hasn’t happened yet?’” you spluttered, the pitch of your voice raising higher and higher and suddenly you were very glad there was no one else there in the café. “It did happen! You were there!”

“I was there!” the young man said cheerfully. “I will be there, and I know you’ll be very upset about it.”

“I am upset about it!”

The young man’s smile vanished. “Oh, you really are.”

“Give me a reason why I shouldn’t hit you this notepad right now,” you hissed, your chest getting tighter and tighter, your anger and confusion mixing into one messy cocktail.

“I’m a customer, Miss Baker! You can’t harm me.” The young man leaned back in his chair. “Or maybe you can – humans, always so violent.”

Humans? “For the last time, I’m not ‘Miss Baker’.”

“Then I suppose this is when you tell me your real name.” The young man grinned, something mischievous hidden in his green eyes. “The question is, Miss Baker, who are you?”

“I asked you first.” You glanced at the clock above him – it was still early, but it was almost time for the morning rush, when all the stressed-out office workers and late university students poured in for their daily dose of coffee. You couldn’t sit here and talk to this man – no matter how many questions you had, you had a job to do. “You know what? Let me get you something, and then you can explain.”

“Right, then, I’ll have tea. A classic. Very lucrative Earth export, in about a few thousand years,” the young man said brightly. Then he frowned. “No, wine. That’ll make me look sophisticated – no, wine’s rubbish.”

Before you could interrupt that the café didn’t even serve wine, the young man suddenly looked up at you, sporting a youthful smile. “What about a banana milkshake?”

---

The young man’s name, you quickly learned, was the Doctor. This didn’t answer any of your questions, because after taking a few sips from his banana milkshake he had run out the door, nearly knocking over one of your employees, Emil, who was clocking in late.

“I’ll explain tomorrow!” he had yelled when you chased after him.

“You’d better!” you’d yelled back. You thought you heard him laugh before he disappeared behind a corner.

The Doctor didn’t come by the next day. Or the day after that.

You would never admit that the Doctor had been the only thing on your mind for an entire week. The young man had an air of mystery about him, like he knew more than he was telling you. He had the face of a child but the air of someone much older – and you had gleaned all of this just from a seven-minute conversation and a strange encounter in your kitchen. For a mystery, he was surprisingly easy to read.  

But aside from that, the week was pretty normal. It was the same old writing names on paper cups and getting flour all over your good pants. After a few days, you’d written off meeting the Doctor as a fluke, a once-in-a-lifetime meeting with someone who was just incredibly unique.

Yes, it might have been a fluke, but there was a niggling sense of missing out on something – like there was a whole universe that you had just brushed against, and whole new world to explore, and you’d missed it. One thing about working in a place that’s full of life, you thought, staring out the large window in the front, where the Doctor had sat, is that you’re always just hearing about it but never living it.

“Miss Baker?”

You turned around, letting a sigh escape your pursed lips. The sound almost became a whistle. “Emil, I told you not to call me that.”

Emil – a tall, sweet man with a very big smile – actually smiled one of his famous smiles, but a bit sheepishly. He rubbed the back of his neck, no doubt getting flour in his hair. “Sorry, it’s a habit. You know I got hired before you did.”

“That means you’re old, Emil,” you said. “What’s up?”

“Erica’s gone again,” Emil replied, “that kid. What does she do when we’re not looking?”

You shrugged, turning back around to face the window, watching the setting sun. Erica had a reputation for being young and a bit of a hotshot among everyone working at the Heaven Café. You didn’t think too much of it. “I don’t know. She is just a kid.”

“So are you.” Emil stood next to you. “But I trusted Miss Baker when she turned the place over to you. She was a good boss.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “And I’m not?”

Emil laughed, rubbing a flour-stained hand over your head, like an annoying big brother. Thank god it was closing time. “I don’t have anything against you, boss.”

The front door swung open. You and Emil turned around to see that a tall, thin man had just walked in, his hands in the pockets of a well-fitted blue suit. The man looked, for lack of a better term, sharp – not “sharp” as in “smartly-dressed”, but he had edges.

“Excuse me, sir,” you called out. The man turned around, one sharp eyebrow raised. He looked like you would get a paper cut if you touched him. “It’s late. We’re closing.”

The statement came more like a question, and the man raised his eyebrow higher, if it was even possible. “Sorry. Bit rude of me. I’m looking for something.”

Oh. British. What was up the shop and attracting strange but attractive British men?

“Sorry, sir, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” Emil said. The man hummed in response, a pensive expression on his face.

“Wrong choice of words. I’m tracking something,” the man said, pulling a screwdriver from the inside of his suit jacket. Suddenly, the screwdriver began to hum and glow blue, and upon closer inspection was not a screwdriver at all. He swept the not-screwdriver over the room. “Have you two seen anything strange recently?”

Stranger than you? “No, sir,” Emil replied, his voice tight.

“I’ve just said it, I’m tracking something!” the man said. The not-screwdriver stopped humming and glowing and the man looked into the end of it, squinting. “Ooh, that’s weird. Weird readings. Are you sure you haven’t seen anything?”

“Sorry, what are you doing here?” Emil asked, stepping in front of you. The man frowned at him.

“I’ve been following strange patterns through time, and they’ve led me here.” The man said, raising his head to meet your eyes. His eyes were brown and deep and strangely familiar. “I’m supposed to meet you. Who are you?”

Before you could even say “I could ask you the same thing”, there was a loud crashing sound. And then a high-pitched scream. Emil turned to face you, his eyes wide.

“It sounded like it came from the kitchen,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Emil, I’ll go,” you said, furrowing your brows. “You stay here.”

Emil laughed, placing a hand on your shoulder. It left a flour handprint on your shirt. “Are you worried about me? You’re still young. I’ll go check it out.”

Another crash rang out – it sounded like something glass crashing to the floor and shattering – and then another sound of pain, but more guttural. It didn’t even sound human. Your stomach twisted with dread, and you glanced at the mysterious man, who nodded at Emil.

“I’ll come with you,” the man said, and Emil shook his head, already walking away.

“Stay here, sir,” Emil called out, then made his way to the kitchen. The man shook his head, chuckling.

“Sorry. I don’t have the best track record for following instructions,” he began. He paused, casting his gaze onto you – which was surprisingly intense from a man that was just so thin. Once again, a sense of familiarity struck you – you knew this man, but how? “Right, you. Who are you?”

“You first,” you countered. The man grinned.

“I’m the Doctor,” he said, and your mouth fell open.

No, he wasn’t the Doctor. The Doctor was that cute floppy-haired young man in tweed you’d met a week ago. The man in front of you wasn’t the Doctor – he couldn’t be the Doctor, because – “I’ve met the Doctor,” you said, a little unsure, “and he doesn’t look like you.”

“That happens a lot,” he said absently, “I think I’ve got one of those faces.”

Distantly, you heard a yell, and another metallic clatter. Your whole body jerked in surprise – it sounded like Emil.

Before you could protest, the Doctor grabbed your hand and dragged you to the kitchen.

You tried to tear yourself away from the Doctor’s grip as he stopped just steps away from the kitchen door. The Doctor still held on tightly to your arm. The clattering and yelling continued, and now you were definitely sure it was Emil. “What are you doing? We have to go help him!”

The Doctor raised a finger to his lips, his eyes wide. “Shh! Listen.”

Among Emil’s grunts of pain and the loud sound of metal and glass crashing to the floor, there was another sound – one that was more animalistic, like the growl of a hungry beast. But it sounded strange, like there was another voice layered beneath it.

“Hungry…”

“Stay behind me,” the Doctor said lowly, and you nodded. Raising his not-screwdriver, he took slow, careful steps towards the open door. His free arm was outstretched over you.

When you finally reached the open door, you fought back a scream – surrounded by broken glass and fallen trays was Emil, his face twisted in pain as he pushed against a slimy, pulsing tentacle. Your gaze followed the writhing flesh to its owner, some kind of wriggling mass that reminded you too much of a tongue to feel comfortable with it. The wriggling mass growled, keeping Emil pinned to the floor. He whipped his head to the side and met your eyes, his whole body trembling.

“Help!” Emil cried. You sprung forward to Emil’s side and tried to grab at the tentacle’s skin – if you could even call it skin. You felt a shudder run down your spine as your own hands became covered in the slimy substance that coated it – what the hell is going on?!

From the corner of your eye, you saw the Doctor, waving his not-screwdriver at the mass of flesh. “What’s kept you hidden for so long? Perception filter? Must be a good one if it’s hidden something like you.”

You pushed against the tentacle keeping Emil pinned tightly to the floor, but it didn’t budge. “I can’t move it! Doctor, HELP!”

“What are you?” the Doctor asked, squinting at the end of his not-screwdriver.

“Ya…mar…” the mass growled lowly, and you paused. Now why did that sound…

“I needed some for some defense against some Yamar natives –“

The Doctor joined you beside Emil, pointing his not-screwdriver at the tentacle. It didn’t do anything. “And what do you want?” the Doctor asked again, pressing his elbow into the tentacle and ruining his nice suit.

The mass made a low noise before speaking. “Hungry… Boss…”

You froze, your mouth falling open. Boss?

Whipping your head around to face the wriggling, slimy, mound of flesh, something caught your eye. Hanging off of it was a pink, frilly apron, now ruined and torn and slimy, hand-sewn for all of the employees at the Heaven Café… hand-me-downs…

“Erica?” you breathed out, and the mass moved, as if responding to the name.

“That’s Erica?!” Emil asked loudly.

“Boss…” it said, a young woman’s voice coming through underneath the growling, alien one. “Hungry…”

“You know her?” the Doctor asked. You shook your head dumbly.

“Employee,” was all you managed to say. “She’s an employee.”

“Whoah!” Emil gasped – he started squirming underneath the massive tentacle, as if trying to get away. A strange burning smell filled the room, and Emil started squirming harder. “What the – my clothes!”

The Doctor stared at his hands, then at his elbow – the spot that had been covered with the slime was being eaten away, revealing bare skin. “The slime’s corrosive! Wipe your hands on something!”

You quickly rubbed your palms on your own Heaven Café apron, watching as the slime you’d just wiped away ate through some of the cloth, leaving only an empty patch behind. Despite all the madness, you managed to sigh – the real Miss Baker was going to come for your head now for destroying her aprons. And for hiring a weird fleshy monster.

“What the fuck is up with weird things and ruining my kitchen?” you muttered.

“Oi, that’s quite rude,” you heard the Doctor say.

You looked up at the Doctor, who had his not-screwdriver out again. “Why hasn’t it eaten through our skin?”

“I don’t think it can. Unless – “

The Doctor was cut off by Emil screaming – the smell of something burning suddenly became the smell of burnt hair, and you assumed that if you didn’t work fast enough it would become the smell of burning flesh.

“What do we do?”

“It says it’s a Yamar, I’ve never met a Yamar!” the Doctor said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Nine-hundred years of time and space and I’ve never met a Yamar.”

“You haven’t? But you told me –“

The Doctor pocketed his not-screwdriver and pressed against the tentacle again, groaning in frustration. “I probably haven’t told you yet! Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey, and all that – I don’t think I’ve met them yet!”

You blinked. The other Doctor had talked about time, and knowing the future – if he didn’t know now maybe the reason why he knew then was because…

“…they don’t have much sugar on their planet, so their bodies aren’t built for handling it.”

“Like snails to salt…” you murmured. You stood up quickly, scrambling to get to a cabinet – “Sugar!”

“What?” Emil and the Doctor said in unison.

“I know what we need!” You flung open a cupboard to find your jars of different sugars, with one still missing. You took all the jars of sugar you could carry and bundled them into your arms. You opened one of the jars, taking in a fistful of sugar. “I’m the envy of bakers across the universe - Yamars don’t like sugar, so we should be able to-”

You threw the handful of sugar onto the tentacle holding Emil down and watched as it burned through its slimy coating. The mass made a shrieking noise, and retracted the tentacle, pulling it back into it’s large body.

“I’m alive,” Emil gasped, placing his hands on his chest, “I’m alive!”

“Right you are,” the Doctor said, helping Emil to his feet.

“No,” the mass gurgled, “Boss. Hungry.”

You stared up at the strange thing – you had to be dreaming. There was no way that this monster could be one of your employees. There was no way that there could even be a monster at all in your café. You had met Erica and she wasn’t like that. But there it was, standing and wriggling in the middle of your kitchen, and it had nearly eaten another one of your employees.

“Sorry, Erica,” you muttered, opening another jar of sugar, the largest one you had, “it’s been a weird night.”

You threw the jar at the wriggling mass; the sugar flew out and struck it, and the creature screamed, a terrible gurgling sound, as the sugar burned through its skin until there was nothing left but a steaming pile of slime on the nice tiled floors of your kitchen. You stared at the pile of slime, taking huge, heaving breaths like you’d just run a marathon.

A weird night. Definitely understatement of the year.

A big smile spread across your face – and despite all of the weird things that had just happened, and despite the fact that you were covered in cloth-and-flesh-eating slime, you laughed.

The Doctor ran up to you, clapping on the shoulders. “Brilliant, how did you know how to do that?”

You blinked. “You told me.”

The Doctor simply grinned. “I think it’s the other way around, Miss…”

A thought flashed through your head – it was impossible, but so many impossible things had just happened. And the Doctor was already such an impossible man - Screw it, right?

“Baker. Call me Miss Baker,” you finally said, grinning back at him. “Uh, do you want a banana milkshake?”

---

It took another week for you to convince yourself that what you were feeling wasn’t a severe case of FOMO.

The spiky-haired Doctor didn’t leave for a long time. He stayed with you until it was quite late and even after you’d sent Emil home to rest, helping you clean the glass and the slime and giving you tips on how to clean slime from surfaces. Eventually, just like the other Doctor, he left too, but he didn’t make any promises.

It still didn’t mean it wasn’t disappointing when he didn’t come back the next day.

You spent a lot of nights in bed thinking about that night. It still didn’t seem real at all. All the things that had happened made the café seem like a much more magical place – it was still your home, and there were still stories to be collected and told, but now there were things that were impossible written on the walls. You couldn’t help but smile everytime you walked into the kitchen – how were you going to tell new employees that the place had been covered in slime once?

The answer was that you didn’t. As much as you wanted to tell everyone you met, probably no one would believe you – no one but Emil, who didn’t show up the next day and simply left an apologetic, but somewhat incoherent, text message.

That left you to manage most of the café. It was a slow day, with only a few people coming in and out and ordering simple orders.

That left you to do one thing you were good at – thinking. You were good at thinking. And you thought a lot about that night, and how it could have gone differently. You could have asked the Doctor to stay, or you could have asked where he was going, or you could have asked if you could go with him. A chance at a real adventure had slipped by you again.

No, you thought, screwing your eyes shut. You were home. You were supposed to be content.

“Excuse me?”

You looked up. Standing in front of you, on the other side of the counter, was a very pretty young lady – her brown hair fell over her shoulders, her big eyes shining under the lights of the café. She smiled brightly at you, and waved.

“Yes, hello,” you said after a while. “Sorry. Welcome to the Heaven Café, what can I get you?”

“Oh -” The young woman looked up for a moment, thinking, and then she looked behind her. Standing not too far away from her was an older man, with a head of curly, white hair, his hands in the pockets of his coat. Was that a hoodie under his coat? The man nodded at her, and the young woman turned back to you. “A coffee and a banana milkshake, please.”

“Dine in or take out?” you asked, and the woman grinned.

“Take out,” she said, “sorry. We’re a bit busy.”

“That’s no problem. Just give me a minute, miss…”

“Clara,” she supplied, leaning over the counter. “Nice place you’ve got here.”

You turned away from her to prepare the coffee, grabbing a small paper cup and walking carefully to the machine. “Thanks! What’s brought you here?”

“Recommendation from a friend,” Clara said. You could still hear the smile in her voice. “I’ve heard good things about the place.”

“Like?”

“Good sugar,” she said, and you nearly dropped the cup.

You set the coffee in front of her with shaking hands and promptly made your way to the blender, the cogs of your brain not working. You dared a glance at the man Clara had come with. The two of them were talking now, their voices drowned out by the roar of the blender. Then the man had to be…

You gave Clara the banana milkshake in the paper cup and she muttered a quick “thanks” before handing it to the man behind her.

You stared at the man. He was older now, definitely different, but there was the same familiarity in his eyes. The corners of the man’s mouth lifted in a small smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“Thank you, again,” Clara said hurriedly, placing a few bills on the counter, “We’ve got to go. Keep the change.”

“No problem, come back soon,” you murmured, still looking at the man. Clara nodded at him and he seemed to collect himself, raising a hand in farewell before rushing out of the door with Clara, disappearing into the street outside.

Yeah, you thought, still staring at the spot where the two of them had been. It was definitely FOMO.

Before you could get lost in your thoughts again, the sound of the door opening kept you from falling into a pit of overthinking. You wiped your hands over your new apron, ran a hand through your hair, and plastered on your best customer service smile.

“Welcome to the Heaven Café, what can I get you?” you said.

A blonde woman had walked in, dressed in a flowing lilac coat and suspenders, her smile wide and bright and awfully familiar. “I’ll have a banana milkshake,” she said, and you frowned.

What was up with people and ordering banana milkshakes today? You looked down, quickly noting the order. “Okay, ma’am. What’s your name?”

“Ma’am. I can never get used to that.” The woman smiled, adjusting a bundle of cloth in her arms. “The Doctor.”

Your head whipped up, meeting the woman’s eyes, and for all you knew the café could have disappeared – all you could see was her smiling at you, the same mischievous glint hidden behind new eyes. “Sorry I’m late, Miss Baker.”

“You already know my name,” you said. The Doctor shifted, removing the cloth from the bundle in her arms, and you gasped – it was your sugar jar, the one she had taken and promised to return, still in pristine condition with hardly any sugar removed. “And my sugar!”

The Doctor set the jar on the counter, resting her hand on it. “It’s served me well! Thank you.”

“You’re two weeks late,” you muttered, still frozen in place.

“No, I’m a few hundred years late,” the Doctor said, sticking her hands in her coat pockets. “I am sorry for that. I do lose track of time sometimes. But I did visit! You said to ‘come back soon’.”

“You were the old man.”

“Yep.”

“And the sharp man.”

“Yep, although I don’t why you call me that.”

“And the bowtie man.”

“I don’t regret the bowtie.” The Doctor pulled at her suspenders, still smiling widely. “Speaking of time…”

The Doctor stepped to the side, gesturing out the big window – there was an old blue police box parked there, standing underneath the shade of a big tree. It was the same box you’d seen, all those nights ago - “You’ve let me into your home so many times, I suppose it’s time I show you mine.”

“That box? You’re kidding.”

The Doctor shrugged, then tilted her head towards the box. “Do you want to see where I’ve been?”

And all those times you’d stayed behind, all the nights of thinking like you had missed out on something grand, something greater than you – all came flooding back. As the Doctor looked at you with wide, expectant eyes, you thought of adventure and finally living the lives you kept hearing about – and you nodded. You weren’t going to miss this chance.

The Doctor beamed, and took your hand. You clambered over the counter, ignoring all the stares from the customers – “Now?”

“When’s a better time than now?” she called back, dragging you out of the café and into another world.

And all this over a jar of sugar.

[awfullyaster]

andrew and neil are switches, don’t you forget it

ok hi here for my (probably) daily aftg rant,,,,so i’m seeing that the majority of the fandom (as far as i’ve seen anyway)--or fics/fanart consisting of andreil doing the do--view neil as a power bottom ?

am i incorrect? are my resources false? idk bout u but so far i’ve only seen like one fic where neil is the top/penetrator (!mao is that even a real word idk but it sounds weird haha cute ok anyway)

and honestly, i have to disagree. i do. i’m not trying to push andrew’s boundaries by saying that neil could top, i’m just saying that y’all don’t give neil enough credit.

liek,,,,,bro,,,,,do you not see the amount of top energy neil mf josten radiates ???? like, yes, we know andrew takes the lead but it doesn’t necessarily mean he’d top forever ?????

( just a proposition, ofc but this is just my opinion based on observations--yet again ) 

( and tbh i had difficulty trying to figure who was the top and who was the bottom between them when i encountered the first hint of intimate growth in their relationship--to the point where i had to ask my best friend who hadn’t a clue what aftg was prior to (that’s when the aftg rants officially started/ignited) and it took some time/proper discussion/consideration but he first came up with the conclusion that andrew was a sub top and that neil was a power bottom )

as for yours truly, i came to the conclusion that they are both switches (some time after i finished reading).

i mean,,,,,,can you really just look at neil josten--wholly, like his entire personality, attitude (problem !), traits, &c and decide on the spot that he’s a bottom ??? how ??? how the hell do you come up with that ?????

and hear me out, i have evidence/reasons:

one) The Great Riko Roast™️. need i say more? 

(if elaboration is necessary:

keep in mind that neil (this literal fucking nobody) burned riko (supposedly the king of exy or whatever the fuck, who cares) to ground on the spot (no script, just his attitude problem (mwah i love him) and pure spite)

again, he burned him to the ground on live television, publicly humiliating riko with each and every word

idk bout u but i am so damn sure andrew found out right then n there that this bitch radiates top energy for fucking sure (or, in his words, isn’t spineless)

neil committing arson via verbal attacks is just---splendid. absolutely mesmerizing. flawless. truly inspiring. gamechanging. glorious. 

he’s so rude i love him

anyway )

two) neil can shut up andrew up without having to touch or kiss him. he can leave him speechless. with just his words. 

(yes, we know anybody & everybody knows better than to touch andrew but like i mean he wouldn’t have to fight him or whatever) (and he doesn’t have to kiss him to shut him up--though he definitely can--he doesn’t have to because that’s just how fucking powerful he is)

y’all,,,,,are you ready for one of the most amazing lines i believe we all know and love,,,,,

““You have a problem wherein you only invest your time and energy into worthless pursuits."

“This,” Neil flicked his finger to indicate the two of them, “isn’t worthless.”

“There is no ‘this’. This is nothing.”

“And I am nothing,” Neil prompted. When Andrew gestured confirmation, Neil said, “And as you’ve always said, you want nothing.”

Andrew stared stone-faced back at him.

[...andrew had his hand frozen mid-air...(i forgot the rest)]”

if this does not prove dominance to you, i don’t know what to tell you. (HE WAS MERELY SPEAKING AND ANDREW COULD NOT COME UP WITH ANYTHING-- A N Y T H I N G --TO SAY BACK BC IT’S A PERSONAL ATTACK AND HE DIDN’T SEE IT COMING AND THAT’S WHY HE SEES NEIL AS INTERESTING/WHY HE ‘HATES’ HIM SO MUCH BRO I)

hOweVeR

i know that dom bottoms exist (i think so, anyway) or bottoms that radiate top energy/the position (i.e. bottom,top) energy you radiate can be entirely different from what position you really are/are comfy with and that these are just words but that brings me to my following point,

three) (#1 insitgator, he, oh yes, neil josten, yes indeed) his unexpected (and to be frank, quite thrilling) acts of asserting dominance ?????? um ????

(when they were kith kithing next to the kitchen (next to kitchen) in neil’s dorm room) “[neil felt his phone buzz in his back pocket and against the wall it was obnoxiously loud. he already knew it was his daily countdown, but he already knew how much little time he had left. he didn’t need to reminded, especially now...andrew took it out of his back pocket and offered it to neil, pulling away from his mouth. neil took the phone from andrew’s hand and threw it across the living room, not taking his eyes off andrew. andrew watched as the phone bounced off the couch and onto the carpet. neil kissed his neck in attempt to distract him and was rewarded by a startled jolt which was enough reason to do it again. and even though andrew pushed his face away, they were close enough for neil to not miss how andrew shivered.]” 

b r o ,,,,,,,,,,,, bro,,,,,,it just--

(when they were alone in the bus otw to that one away game--belmonte, i think?) “[“i wonder when coach found out about this,” neil prompted. 

“there is no ‘this’.”

“i wonder when coach found out you only want to kill me ninety-three percent of the time.”

neil retraced his steps and had a moment of realization. before andrew left for easthaven, neil had told andrew to trust him and not ‘neil’. 

“it was before you left,” neil started... 

“coach doesn’t believe what other people want him to believe, he believes what he sees,” andrew replied...

“are you going to tell them?” neil was referring to the rest of the team, and this was up to him, whether they’ll be out or not. 

“i won’t have to. renee says the upperclassmen are betting on your sexuality.”

neil knew that matt mentioned that there were bets on about him, but he didn’t know it was about this.

“it’s a waste of time and money. they’ll all lose. i’ve said all year that i don’t swing and i meant it. kissing you doesn’t make me look any of them differently. the only one i’m interested in is you.”

“don’t say stupid things.”

“make me.” and with that, neil grabbed a fistful of andrew’s hair and pulled him in.]” 

dude,,,,,,,,,he can take control,,,,,he can,,,,he can lead, too, but he follows andrew’s because he’s a good boy and he knows how important it is. he improvises and uses what he has and takes control from there. dude. dude. 

three) honestly? i think andrew likes it. neil’s unexpected acts of confidence,,,kinda leaves him on the edge of his seat yk,, like doesn’t it increase his percentage? it does, right? cuz ik it did when andrew guided neil to touch his chest and neil emulated andrew’s words, “i won’t be like them. i won’t let you let me be.” (i love them bye) but liek,,,,yeah idk andrew liking neil’s neck kisses/fetish kinda tells me he likes it so maybe this isn’t concrete evidence particularly but i’m still including it because andrew’s a switch, idc what anyone says, 

four) i lost my train of thought but i ran out of reasons--on the spot, anyway--so i might come back to this if i do but just to make it clear:

andrew minyard is a switch. (it just takes time, like a lot, but it doesn’t mean it’s necessarily impossible/never gonna happen.)

neil josten is a switch. (he respects andrew’s boundaries and doesn’t push him, he’s fine being guided, but it doesn’t mean he can’t take the initiative himself (and i forgot to mention it but re: when he asked andrew if he doesn’t like to be touched in general or if it’s a trust thing + many more times, before & after their first kiss, i believe, my brain is just empty rn) and i just think that deserves more recognition)

so !! 

(this post is a mess, (i always am but today’s just worse) i know, and i’m sorry)

in conclusion,

let neil top andrew !! they deserve it !! 

(not that vice versa is bad, but this isn’t either, yk, just saying. also, i hope this isn’t too late to say in the post, but i do not, i repeat, i do not, intend to pressure any content creator--fic writers, fan artists, editors, &c--to create content this particular way only,,,,okay,,,gotta make that unequivocally clear. and i’m not saying andrew topping neil is bad or overrated, because i know that when it comes to them, sex in general would take some time, especially neil topping andrew, but i think they deserve that freedom, yk. again,,,,this is just my personal opinion. no insisting statements here, just wish for freedom to speak my mind, that is all. also feel free to interact if you agree/disagree or both !! i’m willing to hear anyone’s comments or thoughts or whatever !! i hope i’m talking to a brick wall here ahah) 

bro brain poop rn

anyway

tl/dr: bro let neil top (not necessarily on top, but that works, too--either/or--or both, if y’all dare ;DD (kill me) (but like srsly) (let neil top) (plz) :))

(also somewhat off topic but might anyone have access to some fics in which consist of neil first getting andrew off ??? i randomly remember it from ms. sakavic’s extra content page and i would like to see what the fandom offers, if y’all don’t mind)

im so mean and insistent on my aftg-related opinions now that i think about it

whoops

[justsomeoneunordinary]

3🥦🥦🥦

You love coffee, ergo I love you, ergo intimidation is low. You're pretty blunt and I love that, but I can imagine that this is intimidating for others? 😂

And adding 2, so it's 3, because you love Natasha and that speaks of a fine mind and I remember you telling me of beating someone with a handbag, very romanoff of you.

Also you're so sweet and its so fun to bicker with you or read your interactions with others, like they're often highlights in my day 🥰

10/10 would let you step on me though. Extra coffee for you if you manage to get the weird tensity out of my back:P

sesil 🥺💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

please know, it took me so long to answer, cause i didn't know what to say to all that. (but also cause i totally fell asleep again after i told you i'd answer later lol) god, i should type this on desktop cause WORDS, but i need the emojis to express myself, so mobile torture it is.

coffee is life and anyone who disagrees is literally wrong. i type that while drinking coffee lol. also "pretty blunt" is probably the understatement of the century. i am extremely blunt. it's a problem. though i can't tell if it's bc people get mad/annoyed at me or bc i have to keep it to myself at work which causes my organs almost to explode. 😆

also, also!!! i didn't punch the guy with my handbag!!! he tried to steal my handbag so i punched him in the face. with my fist. that's not the same, please get your facts straight. 😌💖 (i'm telling you, it was poetic! movie worthy!! he was right at the the bus doors when they opened and my punch had just enough force to push him out of the bus. god, it's been years and i'm still so proud of that chchadhfjsfj)

but god, sesil, you!!! chcjskdjfkafjaldfjakfjaksfjgkglakf I LOVE YOU OKAY!!! you're so sweet, how dare. this message transformed me in a puddle of goo and i don't like that. how dare you make me soft.

i remember when you followed me out of a sudden and i just sat there like??? why did this frostiron artist follow me?? you have to know, i had no clue that you're a big name. man, i didn't even know that you also write!! (how dare you be so talented and skilled?? art and fics???? *le gasp*) frostiron is just a ship i look into every now and then for some pretty art and maybe a fic or two if i'm feeling it. so i did reblog your art whenever it appeared on my dash, but never felt the need to follow. i had no idea abt big names or anything, i only know the big names in the winteriron fandom. 😆

and then you followed and i was so confused and thought "oh well, she probably gonna unfollow soon" (lmaooo). (though, you honestly have to tell me what prompted you to come to my blog, i wanna know!!!) and then!!! you were so sweet and sent me asks and talked to me and vhcjdjfjsjfjfksfksgjdkc and i fell in love with you. 🥺💕💕💕

and when i finally did get the memo that you're a big name and i should probably feel intimidated, it was already too late. too much shitposting had happened since then lol. (skat kink anon will forever live rent-free in my head cbcnzfjadjgkvka)

and anyway!!! the fact that you made me love you in first place even tho you are german, which is totally a crime and i am betraying my people by being friends with you (if switzerland ever finds out, i will lose all my swiss privilege), and even dared to ask me if swiss chocolate is actually good - that despite that i still would totally 100% kill for you, says a lot.

gosh, you're just such a wonderful human being. you are nice and funny and beautifully honest and so very intelligent as well as mature (i forget so often how young you technically are. god i was so dumb when i was your age but you!!! you are incredible!), you're an amazing artist and just as an amazing writer, and i love you to pieces. 🥺💕💕💓💓💞💞💘💘💗💗🥰🥰

intimidation level 0 but only cause i love you and know you and know i don't have to be intimidated at all. 10/10 i would absolutely step on you if you asked me to. (but i fear you might not have a back afterwards anymore :/)

thank you for your nice words, love!! 💙💙

-

On a scale of 1 to 10, how intimidating am I?

[famedexclusivearchive]

[ARTICLE] GOLD STAR MEDIA TO HOST HALLOWEEN PARTY FOR SECOND TIME

Following the media success of Gold Star Media’s Halloween party in 2018, fans and press alike waited for news of a followup in 2019, only for Gold Star to pass up hosting the event for a second year in a row.

Gold Star Media has now announced they will once again be hosting a Halloween party this year with attendees from their own company as well as BC Entertainment and Dimensions Entertainment and several other hot figures in the entertainment industry. According to industry insiders, an invite to the party was a hot ticket after Gold Star’s inaugural event saw such praise for attendees’ exciting Halloween looks.

This year, Gold Star has announced the party will have a theme beyond Halloween; it will be a masquerade ball with a “Modern Fairy Tale” theme. Media insiders suggest an even larger amount of attention will be showered on the event’s red carpet by media and fans this year.

The party will happen on Halloween night at an undisclosed venue.

ADMIN NOTES:

It’s time for a Halloween event! Gold Star Media has decided to follow up their successful 2018 Halloween party with another one two years later, this time themed as a masquerade ball. In addition to being a masquerade ball, the event is “Modern Fairy Tale” themed. All idols are expected to attend unless there are major extenuating circumstances such as illness or injury (which should be cleared with the admin, please!).

All attendees to the party are expected to adhere to a roughly creative black tie dress code and are required to bring a masquerade-style mask to accompany their outfit. They are also asked to keep in mind the fairy tale theme of the event, though they may interpret this as they wish; they may choose to dress up in a way that recalls a familiar fairy tale character or simply embody an elegant fairy tale-esque look, and they may choose to modernize it as little or as much as they want. A regular Halloween costume look isn’t expected or likely possible due to the dress code.

Idols will work with company stylists to choose their outfit. They’ll have more say in their look and more freedom than they normally do, but their outfit must still remain public-friendly and appropriate to their group or canon soloist image, i.e. a WISH or Lucid member won’t show up in a daring V-neck cutout dress.

Idol attendees will not be permitted a plus one and couple outfits must be avoided. Idols who serve as ambassadors of brands lending themselves to black tie attire at the time of the event may be encouraged or required within their deal to wear that brand in some way.

There will be a red carpet before entering the event for pictures that will be released as publicity. Group members will arrive at the event with their managers in vans and the rest of their group and photos on the red carpet will be taken in groups and then individually. Appointments at their regular salon will be made available for idols to schedule in advance if necessary. The red carpet will begin at 6pm, while the main event inside the venue will begin at 7pm.

The party will take place at a large modern ballroom-style event venue outside of Seoul proper, which will be decorated with modern, elegant decorations matching a typical modern masquerade ball look with a gold, white, and black color scheme.

Managers and other company employees, including CEO Bang Sunyoung herself for a period of time, will be present at this party, though press will not be allowed inside the venue beyond the red carpet.

Having a masquerade mask will be mandatory, and wearing it inside the venue is encouraged in the spirit of the event. 

Activities & Locations Overview:

The entrance lobby is where all attendees will congregate after exiting the red carpet to have their invitations and identities checked before being allowed into the event.

The main room of the event is a large ballroom set up with elegant decor in shades of gold, white, and black (decor examples: 1, 2, 3). Attendees are free to seat themselves as they wish at the tables places along the exterior of the ballroom, though they are reminded that staff is in attendance at the event and they must be on good behavior. Waiters and waitresses will still be present with trays of hors d'oeuvres such a gourmet cheeses, caviar, spiced walnuts, and crab and avocado toast and flutes of champagne, as well as sparkling mineral water for those who do not drink. A live string quartet has been hired for the evening and they will play a mix of classical favorites, songs from fairy tale media, and spooky classics such as horror movie themes. From 9pm onward, the string quartet will leave and be replaced by a DJ to end the night on a more high-energy note. At this point, the central dance floor of the ballroom is expected to become a central part of the event.

Escape room, a section of rooms of the venue have been set aside and taken over by a top escape room company, who has set up a personalized escape room situation within the venue created just for the event. They’ll allow in groups of six to eight people in at a time to solve the fairy tale-themed escape room. The escape room has a time limit of forty minutes with a predicted 60% success rate.

A lawn outside the back of the ballroom. At 10:30PM, there will be a viewing on the lawn of a scary movie on a large screen. Blankets will be laid out on the ground to keep attendees’ expensive outfits from getting dirtied and a smaller selection of small tables around the outskirts of the lawn will also be available.

A garden also outside the back of the ballroom. This features a walking path through a professionally-designed flower garden. Past the flower garden is a small hedge maze lit by lanterns to keep in the spirit of the event. 

Photo booths are set up throughout the venue which are free to use. The photo booths include a variety of Halloween- and fairy tale-themed props and offer the option to have the photos sent to your phone or printed off in a traditional photo booth manner.

A scavenger hunt will take place during the full duration of the event. A sign in the entrance lobby before entering the ballroom informs guests that there are six small white jack-o-lanterns hidden throughout the venue with numbers attached and guests that find all six numbers for a special code will win be entered into a lottery to win prizes such as tickets to Everland, a free stay at a resort on Jeju Island, etc. (The jack-o-lanterns can be found as follows: one in the ballroom on a table, one in the ballroom next to the stage with the string quartet, one in the entrance lobby on a white chair, one in the garden against the edge of a flower bed, one down an incorrect path in the maze, and one in a photo booth.) Winners of the lottery will be announced at the end of the event.

Timeline:

6pm-7pm: Red carpet for press photos.

7pm~12am: Masquerade ball main event.

7pm-9:25: String quartet as musical guest in ballroom.

9:25-9:30: Short speech by CEO Bang Sunyoung as a host representative before she leaves the event. The presence of staff members grows steadily more scarce after this point as they begin to leave for the night.

9:30pm~12am: DJ as musical guest in ballroom.

10:30pm~12am: Scary movie screening on back lawn (optional, guests may come and go).

Overall:

In game, this event takes place on the night of Saturday, October 31 from 6pm KST to shortly after midnight, but threads and other posts for this event may be started from Sunday, October 4 at 12am EDT / Sunday, October 4 at 1pm KST (the time this post goes up), to Saturday, October 31 at 11:59pm EDT / Sunday, November 1 at 12:59pm KST.

Threads may be continued past the end date, but must be started before then. Non-event related interactions may be conducted during this time as well.

NOTE: All posts related to the event should be tagged #fmdhalloween2020. Remember to use #fmdcall if you want to post a plot or starter call for the event, which I encourage everyone to do!

POINTS AVAILABLE:

As with all events, there are special points up for grabs.

INTERACTIONS: Having an event thread with a starter and at least three replies (starter ▻ partner reply  ▻ op reply  ▻ partner reply) by the end of the event is worth 2 points. This is valid for up to ten threads per muse this time and the threads can take place during any part of the event.

INTERACTIONS: Having an event thread going with someone your muse has never had a thread with before is worth 1 additional point for each thread.

INTERACTIONS: Posting an open starter for the event is worth 2 points. This counts for up to one open thread starter (not a text/sms post) per character.

CHALLENGES & PROMPTS: Completing at least three of the six event writing challenges and prompts found here is worth five points. **Solos you may choose to do for this do count toward your monthly total. (This is an experimental addition to events to inspire threads and may or may not be used in future events.)

MISCELLANEOUS: Posting an aesthetic or headcanon of your muse’s outfit and mask for the event is worth 2 points and does not count toward your monthly total.

You can also earn the normal amount of points through writing self-paras, etc. related to the event!

If anything in this post is unclear or you have any questions, please feel free to contact the admin. Please like this post to let me know you read it.

[zoryany]

@kaitodetective1412 sent me 45 -- You may technically be an adult, but you’re still my child.

(an anon did as well and I do plan to answer both in different ways and I will tag kaito in the anon answer as well bc I feel like this isn’t what either of you wanted but it’s what you’re gonna get, for now)

Imperial Royal Skywalker Family AU Pt 1 || Pt 2

send me ficlet prompts – optionally include characters

Dessert passed in relative silence, the atmosphere in the dining room having grown decidedly tense. Luke had really been hoping he could have delayed Han meeting his father until after he’d spoken to his parents, but the Force seemed to be set on toying with him. At least Mother had been able to placate Father before he’d done anything rash, but Luke wasn’t sure that had been entirely preferable, either.

When they’d all finished, Luke moved to usher Han back to his suite, but his mother raised her hand before he had the chance to even rise from his chair. “Leia? Sweetheart, can you please escort Captain Solo to his rooms while your father and I talk to Luke?”

“Yes, Mother.” Leia looked as though she would rather swallow a bantha whole, but she knew better than to argue with their mother, especially when she was already in a dangerous enough mood. She was also probably hoping she’d get to be in on the whole conversation that was to come, which added to her disappointment. Not that it mattered, anyways, because one way or another, she would know exactly what was said, but her expression and presence in the Force soured significantly as she turned her gaze to Han. “Let’s go, Captain. I don’t have all night.”

Han threw a final, withering look over his shoulder as Leia led him from the room, leaving Luke alone with his mother at last. With a severe expression, she turned to face him, and Luke felt his stomach drop out from under him. Out of the eyes of company, it was entirely clear just how upset she really was. All of the guilt that had been eating at him for the past weeks rose back up in him all at once.

“Come, dear,” said his mother as she stood. “Let’s not keep your father waiting.”

Hanging his head, Luke followed his mother with heavy steps to his father’s study. Unlike the rooms of the Palace occupied largely by the Empress, Darth Vader’s spaces, both planetside and on his flagship, tended to be dim and spartan, possessing little in the way of embellishments. He claimed it as practicality -- and, on most occasions, Luke would agree with that -- but right about now, he was convinced that it was meant to make facing him all that more intimidating.

Luke had never been afraid of his father. He understood why people were, and why they should be, and he was all too aware of what someone as powerful as Darth Vader was capable of, but he’d never feared him. His father would never hurt him or Leia, especially not with Mother around to rein in his temper, but there was always a certain anxiety that overtook him whenever his father was angry. He hated the feeling, the sudden urge to cower in submission before a man he’d idolized all his life and who loved him deeply. Leia had always been better than Luke at standing strong in the face of his emotions, perhaps because she had never felt the same level of hero-worship towards him, but Luke was finding himself longing for some of her strength right about now.

His father had been pacing the length of the room when they’d arrived, but the moment they crossed the threshold, he stopped in his tracks and whirled around. The movement was so abrupt that most would assume that kind of speed impossible from a man as large as Vader, but he moved quick enough to send his cape billowing behind him. “Sit,” he commanded, pointing to a chair in the centre of the room.

As he complied, his mother walked to stand to the right of her husband, both parents folding their arms across their chests. His cheeks burned in shame as he avoided looking directly at them. How was it that they could so easily make him feel like he was five years old again?

“You know why you are here, son.” The modulated voice carried a tranquil rage, one that affected him far more than being shouted at ever would. “Explain.”

‘You can do this, Luke,’ he thought silently, sucking in a shuddering breath in an attempt to steady himself. ‘You’ve been practicing this speech in your head since you left.’

"I -- I can’t apologize enough for leaving without warning like that. I know I put you through needless worry, and I’m sure that nothing I can do will make up for that. I just... needed to get away.” Stars, it sounded even lamer saying it out loud than it did in his head. Neither parent looked pleased. He pressed on. “You know I’ve never really liked -- never really been comfortable with any of... well, our status.” Once again, he was jealous of Leia. She wouldn’t be stumbling over her words like this. “I’ve never liked being the Prince, never really liked making public appearances. Never been good at them, either. Leia’s always been better suited for it. And after twenty years of it, I was feeling... claustrophobic. I needed some freedom.”

“Freedom?” It had always been a touchy subject for his father, Luke knew, but he had to hope he could use that to his advantage. “As the Imperial Prince, you have been granted every want, every desire you could hope for. Your mother and I fought tirelessly, made endless sacrifices to create this life for you and your sister. There has never been more freedom in the galaxy, and you stand at the head of it all.”

Was his father being serious? “You... actually expect me to believe that being rich and powerful is the same as being free?” But then, of course his father did. “Maybe you just don’t realize this gilded cage you’ve put me in, Father. I can’t go anywhere beyond our private quarters without an excessive number of guards accompanying me. You and mother have to be aware of my location at every given moment. I’m not allowed to fly or talk to people or do anything without express permission! It’s suffocating! It’s -- ”

“For your safety,” his father growled, hands falling from his chest to form clenched fists at his sides. Next to him, his mother tensed slightly, pursing her lips, but she did nothing more than focus on watching him just a bit more closely. “Everything I have ever done has been to keep you and your mother and your sister safe. The life we live has come at a great cost, and I will not see you throw it all away out of some foolish rebellion. If something would have happened to you -- ”

“But it didn’t!” Luke cried, his voice pitching upward. Any fear or anxiety he’d been feeling had evaporated, and he was prepared to staunchly defend himself. He was not an idiot. He knew exactly how his parents would feel and how they would react to his departure. The decision he made was conscious and purposeful, and he had every intention of justifying it. “I can take care of myself, you know. All that training hasn’t been for nothing. I was careful. I took every precaution. And I’m twenty years old, now, I’m not a little kid anymore.”

While his mother’s face had relaxed a bit, his father did not appear to be convinced. “You may technically be an adult,” he said, slowly, “but you are still my child -- our child. I have torn down the galaxy once to protect you, and I would do it a thousand times over if it keeps you from harm.”

Letting out a noise of frustration, Luke leapt up from his seat. “But that’s just it! I know you have and I know that you were trying to do it again! Don’t think I didn’t notice the swath of destruction you left in your wake when you tried to track me down this time. It’s too much! I love you both so much, but I don’t want the galaxy to grind to a halt just because I ask for some time alone. I can’t stand all the attention, the pomp and circumstance that surrounds everything I do, the formality I’m forced to endure just to attend dinner! I just -- ” His voice broke, and he was embarrassed to find his eyes stinging as he looked imploringly at his parents. “All I wanted was a little bit of normalcy.”

Slumping back in his chair, Luke realized he may not have processed all of this quite as successfully as he’d initially thought. Running away, it turned out, had only served as a distraction from genuinely confronting what was really bothering him.

“Normalcy?” The vocoder’s tone was dull and flat, and his father seemed to have relaxed his stance, somewhat, almost in disbelief. “You wish to be ordinary? Like every other being in this galaxy?” Disbelief was evident, now. His father’s fists had uncurled, his shoulders slackened, and though he could not see his face, Luke got the impression of wide eyes and raised brows. “That... is unacceptable. You are the furthest thing from ordinary, son. You are above those lesser beings, and I would not see you receive anything less than you deserve. ”

"No,” Luke said, quietly but firmly, “I am not above them.” He’d spent countless hours in the Coruscant underground, on treks both known and unknown to his parents, and he’d spent several weeks touring the galaxy. He had interacted with their citizens on a regular basis, and he knew who they really were. They were people, beings with dreams and aspirations and ideals, and they were magnificent. “My abilities and my status don’t make me any better than anyone else. Aren’t we supposed to be ruling the galaxy for them?”

A stubborn set worked its way through his father’s frame, unyielding as ever. “We do. The galaxy has never fared better.” And he could not be certain if that was a truth or a lie, but his father certainly believed it. “But I cannot allow you to stoop to the level of those below your status. The future of our benevolent Empire rests upon you and your sister. You must maintain a particular image if you wish for your control over them to endure.”

“Are you not listening to me?” But Luke already knew the answer to that. Of course his father wasn’t listening to him. Anything that contradicted his very specific view of the universe rarely made it through. “I don’t want that power to rest on me! I’m not interested in having people grovel at my feet or flinch away from me in fear. I don’t want people to worship me or treat me like... like -- ”

“Royalty?” His father’s arms were folded across his chest again. “That is what you are.”

Luke was prepared to cut in, and his father looked like he had more to say, but before either of them could speak up again, his mother stepped up and placed a gentle hand on his father’s shoulder.

“Ani, wait.” Even after twenty years, Luke could still not believe just how quickly his father seemed to settle when his mother intervened. “I think I know what this is about.” His mother’s expression grew tender as she stepped towards him, crouching down before his chair and cupping his face in her hands. “Dearest,” she said with unparalleled tenderness, “was this because of your birthday?”

Reading the sympathy and understanding in his mother’s deep brown eyes, Luke found himself leaning into her touch. She was radiating compassion, searching for understanding, and Luke knew that this was the reason he’d always intended to return home when he’d left. His parents loved him. They cared for him. They wanted what was best for him, even if they didn’t know how to go about it. All he’d wanted was to do something on his own terms.

“Yes...”

Because his birthday had not been on his terms. It hadn’t been on Leia’s, either, but she could adapt to it much easier than her brother. He’d been overwhelmed, surrounded by sycophants who only wanted to know him because he was an heir, and his status meant that he could not enjoy even the smallest of pleasantries at a party that was meant to be for him and his twin. And then the scene during the speeches...

He’d never wanted to leave his family. Luke loved his mother, father and sister with his entire being. But their status had always weighed on him, and that night had been a breaking point.

“Oh, sweetheart...” His mother shifted her grip and pulled him close. Luke squeezed his eyes shut. Tears had been threatening to spring forth since he’d sat back down, and they ran freely down his cheeks when his mother’s arms enveloped him. “Why didn’t you say anything? We could have talked this out. You didn’t need to run away.”

At this point, his father had taken a single step forward, appearing somewhat hesitant but still refusing to relent. Luke chose to focus on his mother, and he found himself sinking in on himself even more. It felt nearly impossible to convey how he felt and what he wanted without hurting their feelings. His mother’s sympathetic gaze coupled with his father’s unyielding stance only served to elevate his guilt. 

But there was this sneaking feeling within him that the conversation his mother suggested wouldn’t have gone well regardless.

“I didn’t think you would listen to me,” he said quietly. “You’re still not really listening to me. I had to do something drastic. It felt like the only option, at the time, and I still feel like it’s not enough. Han makes me happy in a way that all that spectacle just - doesn’t. So I just - I need you to understand why - and I mean actually understand. Because I didn’t want to run. And I don’t want to do it again. But I can’t keep going like this...”

For a long moment, his mother looked at him with large, sad eyes before finally withdrawing her hands and stepping away. “Alright,” she said, a quiet resignation working its way into her voice. “I... don’t think we’ll get much further tonight. Why don’t you go wash up for bed, and your father and I will discuss what you’ve told us.” She pressed her lips together and gave him a long, steady look. “We want what’s best for you, Luke. Please know this.”

And he did. The trouble was, their idea of what was best for him didn’t always match up to his own.

“Luke.” His father seemed uncharacteristically hesitant. “Please do not resort to this again.”

There was more his father wanted to say - more they all wanted to say - but Luke felt satisfied that they had, at the very least, made some manner of progress tonight.

“I won’t, Father. I promise.”

[kamekamelea]

Never tell me the odds

Hello @fezzle! Here’s an early Halloween gift for you for the @b99fandomeventsfall fic challenge! I got super inspired by your prompts and it was hard to choose  one to write but I hope you’re happy with the outcome <3

Special thanks go to @amydancepants-peralta​ for all your precious help with this one! You’re a true angel 💖 And thank you @b99peraltiago​ for your moral support and patience with my rants about this fic 💕

also, it’s super fun to be part of this challenge once again 😊❤

read on ao3 (bc it’s kinda too long for tumblr)

How has she once again fallen a victim to Gina’s trick?

The bet was supposed to be an easy win for Santiago, but somehow Gina managed to outwit her (or rather, as Amy assumed, cheat). And the defeat was bitter. The defeat was Gina choosing a costume for Santiago for the Halloween party held at Linetti’s. Was the result different, Linetti would be forced to go to any nerdy event of Amy’s choice and the latter just briefly wonders if such outcome would make Gina suffer equally. Because Amy’s misery right now is enormous.

The misery being her wearing a Chewbacca costume, of all possible choices Gina could’ve made.

The costume is thick, doesn’t let any air in or out and the smell inside the upper part is overwhelming in the worst sense. But now it’s too late to start looking for a new one, Amy thinks, standing in front of the door to Gina’s apartment and she knows Linetti won’t let her in, her wearing only yoga pants and a t-shirt under her costume. So she follows Rosa inside, her shoulders slumped. Not that anyone would notice in the bush of fake Wookie fur.

There are cheap Halloween decorations all around Gina’s apartment - plastic pumpkins put on every free surface, tacky spiders and bats hanging from door frames and lamps. The cups have skeletons imprinted on them and a big bowl is standing in the middle of the kitchen, filled with a suspiciously looking red jello, which, as Amy assumes, is supposed to look like blood. It’s not sophisticated (what is expected from a students’ party) but Amy admires Linetti’s dedication to decor. In the corner, far back in the living room, stands an occasionally screaming witch, scaring off from time to time those who come closer to the drinks table.

And Amy would love to get drunk as fast as possible but it is not really an option in that suit - it’s hard to walk in it being sober, she can only imagine how worse it would get after alcohol circulating in her system. So she stands in front of the makeshift bar, full of the cheapest beer and wine, with a few bottles of tequila and vodka in the back of it, and contemplates the reasons behind her desperate need to show up here tonight. Why did she oblige to Gina’s stupid terms just for the sake of one party? She doesn’t even like Halloween that much...

Oh, right. Because her private life is a disaster.

She’s nearing the end of college, satisfied with her results - it’s a good feeling to have the highest grades, a scholarship and University authorities’ recognition. Yet at what cost? While going through her university experience, she has kinda forgotten about one important life’s detail - people. And Amy’s been in a weird place recently, getting to know new people becoming harder and harder with age. Her being stuck in a small crowd of friends, people she loved with all of her heart, but even they’ve kept telling her to take some air. A breath of clear air that comes with a new friendship.

However, Amy has always been a bit weird with people, add to it her geekiness and OCD, it really doesn’t create the best combination for being popular. Even if she has never craved for popularity, it also doesn’t help in creating deep bonds with people she keeps close to herself. One of those people being Rosa Diaz, her classmate from high school, with whom she managed to form some kind of meaningful relationship. It was a hard task - Diaz being a human form of a brick wall, and Amy having her own struggles with opening to people - but in the end Amy was over the moon when their friendship developed, reaching a level where the other Latina agreed to become roommates as the time for college came.

And it’s not that she doesn’t like to be around people, no. It’s just that if she was to describe the feeling that overcomes her after spending too much time with an acquaintance she would use the noun discomfort. Because there is always a wall, a wall of politeness and courtesy, that blocks Amy from being her true self around most people. Those are rules of dealing with people and Amy loves to follow rules.

Surprisingly, a weird easiness Amy finds also in Linetti’s company, Rosa’s girlfriend of few months. Even though Gina never noticed Amy in high school (and still doesn’t believe she and Santiago actually attended some classes together, even when she showed her some pictures on the school’s website, always chortling right in her face when Amy brings it up) and only hangs out with her because of one Netflix account Rosa shares with Amy, which forces them to often watch TV together.

And when Gina invited Amy to her Halloween party (after Rosa elbowed her hard in the ribs) Amy thought it might be a good opportunity to step out of her comfort zone. Of course Linetti had to do it her way, coming up with the whole bet idea and again, Amy agreed because if there is one thing she loves more than following rules it’s competition. And she calculated her chances well - doing some calculus of probability is actually one of her hobbies, but somehow Gina, being the sneaky girl that she is, fooled her anyway.

It is a spooky season indeed, Amy thinks, her demons chasing her on this last day of October.

All of a sudden, Amy’s small pity party gets interrupted, as a pair of unknown arms encircles her from behind and an unexpected impact makes her wobble. But the arms are strong and they keep her in place.

“There you are, Chewie! I was worried the Stormtroopers finally got you!” Someone shouts loudly right into her ear and if it wasn’t for the mask, she would have lost her hearing for sure.

The arms let go of her, making it possible for her to turn to the source of the voice, which sounds somehow familiar, even in this noise of a crowded party. Through the small holes which are supposed to be Chewie’s eyes she sees a snippet of an ecru shirt and black vest. What she doesn’t see is a face, so she tilts her head in a weird angle to inspect it. And then a big smile shows, and sparkling brown eyes and a head of messy curls.

Amy knows this face, she just has trouble to match it with a name.

“Come on, Chewie! Don’t you recognize your best friend?!” The smile only grows bigger (if that’s even possible) and for a reason unknown to Amy it makes her blush. God bless the mask.

“Is this supposed to be a Han Solo costume?” she asks, her tone maybe a bit too sharp given he’s been nothing but nice, with this beam of his and friendly attitude. There was no reason whatsoever for her to go into her defensive mode. Her blush deepens.

“Oh, come on! It’s obvious I’m Han - I even have a gun, look!” The man, she still can’t remember the name of, reaches to his back pocket and takes out the tackiest plastic gun she’s ever seen.

She actually chuckles at his attempt to roll the gun on his finger, even if it’s a failed one. “Yeah, so much better now, Han Solo.”

“It’s Jake actually.” He smiles and then it clicks.

“Right, Jake Peralta!” She points her finger at him in a weird satisfactory gesture, excited she managed to finally to remember and only then she realizes how awkward it must have looked.

That’s why she should’ve stayed at home.

Jake’s brows furrow in a confused impression, though the smirk is still there, so she hurries with an explanation. “We went to high school together.”

They did go to the same school, true. And that’s it. They’ve never exchanged a word, him probably oblivious to her existence, but she knew him of course, because who didn’t really? The goofball, school’s clown, his jokes capable to charm even the strictest of teachers. He wasn’t maybe the most popular boy in school, but his personality was just so loud it was catching Amy’s attention, besides she enjoyed watching him interacting with others. He made it look so easy. Just coming by to a random person to chat about nothing in particular and bonding. Never seemed so easy for her. Maybe if he would’ve come up to her, it would have been easy as well? But he never did, so those thoughts are pointless.

(Most of the time he would be wearing that trademark grin of his proudly, but there were times Amy saw him walking in contemplation through a secluded hallway, his gaze wistful and lips pursed and if someone was to actually talk to him, he would put on a smile Amy knew was fake.)

“That’s so cool! Gina invited so many random people, it’s gonna be so nice to see a familiar face. Well, if you decide to finally let go of that mask, Chewie.”

He’s going to be so disappointed seeing a face of yet another stranger.

But she grasps the mask and struggles for a second and only with a slight help from Jake she manages to get it off.

“You probably don’t re...” she rushes to explain but gets interrupted by an excited scream.

“Oh my God, Amy Santiago?! In a Chewbacca costume!”

Jake giggles like crazy, and with his whole body, but Amy doesn’t feel offended by his reaction because the laugh doesn’t sound like a mean one, and it is a hilarious sight of her in that costume. First and foremost though her mind can only focus on one thing now - he knows her name.

His laugh is contagious, so she lets herself to chuckle timidly, and is amazed how easy it is to just laugh with a person she has just met.

“Wow, Amy Santiago, I didn’t take you for a person to wear a Chewbacca costume. I love it.” he says once their giggles die a bit and Amy wishes the mask was still in place to cover the redness of her cheeks.

“Not my choice really. But now that my sweat has mixed with all the sweat of people who wore this costume before me, I don’t even mind it anymore.”

The words leave her mouth and her hand twitches to slap herself for making it the most awkward small talk ever. According to good manners, this is not how you talk to person you barely know. Especially if that person has such mesmerizing eyes and cute smile. Bringing up sweat isn’t a sexy thing to say. Not that she wants to be received as sexy.

(Even if she wanted, it’s hard to accomplish it wearing the most shapeless and fury costume ever. This is like the opposite of sexy.)

“Sounds sexy!” His right brow rises in a funny way as he chuckles but Amy has only half the mind to admire this adorable sight, because the other half is amazed - looks like small talks don’t have to feel weird and forced after all. He must’ve taken her shocked expression as a wrong sign though, because for the first time the smile disappears from his face as he starts to explain. “Just kidding! I’m so sorry, this was so inappropriate. I made it super weird, didn’t I?”

“Super weird is actually my comfort zone, so thank you for finally lowering your standards of social interactions to my level.” It’s actually so true, Amy realizes, and is surprised it was easier to admit it to Jake than to herself for such long time. He takes it though only as a pretty dark joke probably, the beam finding its designated place on Jake’s face again, giving Amy no choice than to reciprocate it.

“You know what would be the coolest thing ever?” Jake suddenly exclaims excitedly. “Us together taking part in the costume contest.”

“What contest?...”

“Gina is holding a competition for matching costumes, since she really wants people to praise her costume idea for her and Rosa.”

“Who are they dressing up as? Rosa refused to tell me when I asked her about the blonde wig.”

“I think she’s supposed to be Portia and Gina’s dressing up as Ellen Degeneres.”

Yeah, Amy can see now why Rosa seemed so uncomfortable in her costume, probably preferring to wear a more gloomy outfit. But, there are worse things people do for love, and Amy is moved by Diaz’s gesture to make her girlfriend happy.

“So, wanna take part?” He prompts further cheerfully. “Being honest, I think it’s a destiny you and I both came wearing Star Wars costumes. And they match in the best way possible!”

Amy doesn’t know what makes her agree eventually, after Jake - a man she doesn’t really know - gives her a countless number of arguments (none of which makes sense) about the brilliance of his idea. She’s of course quick to correct him.

“The form you’re looking for is “brilliantness”. “Brilliance” refers to something exceptionally effulgent.”

He then mocks her know-it-all tone (giving it a weird British vibe), but in a way that makes her laugh, and she willingly indulges into a banter that goes on for a while. And somehow the result of it is her saying yes to that proposition.

Despite the thick layer of the Chewie costume, she feels a spark going through her nerves when Jake grabs her hand to pull her towards Gina, person in charge.

~~READ THE REST ON AO3~~