#have to stand in a room full of 2000 other people

[anaussiefan]

I'm going to my first ever concert tonight and I'm so excited but also I feel like I'll throw up I'm so nervous

[bobbeshwar]

sorry i just wanted to hear you s(cream)!

☆ summary: ghostface is in town and it’s either fuck or flee… we all know what you chose…

★ warnings: ghostface!sukuna, fem-reader, reader is a serial killer fanatic, sort of same setting as scream 1(so early 2000s), smutt, dark themes, mask kink, chase play, weapon usage(knife), ghostface hates to see reader coming, a little bit of cuting, dirty talking, degradation, a little bit of voyeurism, sukuna is super mean(but like duh), oral, rough sex, dumbification, choking, spanking, suffocation, hair pulling, squirting. come eating/swallowing, etc.

☆ word count: 3.4k~

★ a/n: boomshakalaka yes gawwwwddd

also thank you to the loml @alainatranquility for the idea☺️

The grainy image of the masked killer flickering on your tiny television set should have frightened you. Should have had you double-locking your doors and crawling under your covers, praying to wake up safely. 

“We advise everyone to stay indoors...” The reporter's voice droned on, your gaze locked on that blurry photo. A ghastly white mask open in a scream, blood spattered on the knife clutched in the killer’s hand. You could feel your thighs clenching, breath hitching as you shuffled on your living room couch. 

This was a real life serial killer in your town. A murderer who killed people for sport. Not a person in a documentary or character in a scary movie. If he’d ever met you he would probably gut you like a fish and have no mercy doing it. 

You held your breath at the thought: those gloved hands, one roughly grasping your throat and the other driving his knife repeatedly into your side. Fuck, you were wet. 

You’d been following the masked killer for weeks. Waiting with bated breath for another news report to air out about his latest victim. Lamenting with your friends about the serial killer invading your town knowing you clutched your sheets and came nightly to the thought of him invading you.

You tried to find him multiple times, rushed to crime scenes in the wake of his murders hoping to catch a glimpse, get a glance at the man absolutely ruining the equilibrium of your small suburban town. 

But he was always gone without a trace. Nowhere to be found. The news gave updates on each new kill added to his list, but couldn’t figure out where he was, who he was. This ghost face—what the news began calling him—was like something out of a movie, a fantasy. 

And so you planned to do the next best thing: use yourself as bait. 

Ghostface killed mostly at night, so it was 1am when you found yourself trekking through the woods, awaiting your could-be killer. 

A distant howl had you gasping as you whipped your head towards the sound, the only source of light the full moon hanging distantly in the sky. Twigs snapped beneath your boot-covered feet as you shuffled through the seemingly endless forest, feeling a little stupid for standing in the woods, waiting for a serial killer to come find you. At this point, you’d instead be dead from an animal attack. 

But this is what attracted the killer, you thought. 

You tried to seem open, inviting, like you were some dumb girl, walking foolishly in the woods at night. Maybe you should have brought your ex, they’d put up a good front, and lord knows they were itching to see you again. You wouldn’t mind if Ghostface took them out. 

But no, this was better. There’d be no witnesses to your shame. No eyes as you lived out your darkest desire. 

You hear a twig snap behind you and you turn quickly towards the sound, heart thumping in your chest as your eyes roam across the patchy forest, silent despite the noises. You move ahead, your thighs slick and face hot as you hold your coat a little tighter, fear coursing through your body and setting it practically aflame. 

A rustle sounds and you jump, turning once again towards the source of the sound, just a bunny in the bushes. You heave a sigh of relief turning forwards to continue walking—

Your breath is stolen by the killer standing before you. How could he even be that quiet?? He was so…

Big. Enormous is the only way to describe him. Huge broad shoulders covered by black robes, so tall he could probably grab the highest branch of the nearest tree with ease. Towering over you, he seemed more monster than man. Or maybe that was the signature ghost mask covering his face and the gleaming knife in his big gloved hand. 

He was everything and more than what you imagined him to be. You crumpled to the ground as your legs give way and you try to look scared, to will away the smile threatening to consume your face and your eyes already clouding with lust. 

Ghostface approaches you, each step making your body tremble with need as he towers over you. You somehow twist your face into a terrified expression, taking in those big thighs straining the confines of his robes and the shadow cast over your face as he stares down at you and tilts his head. 

Fuck, you think you came. “P-Please don’t kill me.” You whisper, and Ghostface says nothing. Not surprising. 

But what is surprising is his gloved hand grabbing a tight hold of your hair and yanking you towards him. 

Pain flares in your scalp and you hold back a moan, but a whimper still escapes from your lips. Maybe you sounded pained(you probably didn’t). 

He leans down, masked covered face inches away from yours and you can’t even hear him breathing. His left hand clutching you like a rag doll by your hair and his right holding his knife. Which he brings to your neck, the sharp end nearly pressing into the skin just below your chin. 

You were practically trickling into the grass at this point. “Please, please…” you softly beg, and he pushes the blade into your skin, you let out a squeak from the contact, pain and pleasure dueling within you as you feel the blood dripping from your neck. But no, he couldn’t kill you just yet. 

You break free of his hold. Somehow. Darting off quickly away from him on your trembling legs. The cut he made in your skin wasn’t deep, you wouldn’t bleed out or anything. But if you hadn’t run the fun would have been over, he would have driven that knife into your neck and watched you choke to death on your own blood. 

And why did that thought make you more horny?? 

You stop to take a breath, propping yourself up against a nearby tree, chest heaving and skin sticky with sweat. You chuck off your jacket, goosebumps immediately rising on your flesh as you stand in nothing but a practically see through tank top and a pair of leggings. Perhaps he’d get a load of your tits transparent against the cheap fabric of your shirt, and want to brutally fuck you. 

The thought almost has you slipping your hand beneath your leggings and finishing against that tree. But you needed to keep running. You jog for a few more minutes, then break into a full blown run when you catch a glimpse of a shadow in the distance. 

You’re no athlete, so it only takes a few more minutes before you’re toppling to the ground, heaving in breaths. He’d find you for sure. 

Crunch, crunch, the sound of footsteps, walking calmly in your direction. You tried to stand, propping yourself up against the nearest tree but you were spent. It’d only been what, fifteen minutes and your legs weren’t fucking working. Shit. 

Still you manage to crawl, hoping to keep up the fun as long as you could. His footsteps are getting louder and louder, till your vision is obscured by the shadow of his massive body and he leans down to grab you and throw you into the nearest tree. 

You let out a groan from the pain blooming in your back, but the sensation is driving you mad with need. He was so rough with you, no regards for your life. Treating you like a mere object. 

His hand comes up to your throat before you can even think another sinful thought, and your thighs feel damp. You barely manage a whimper, his hand pinning you against the wall by your neck. 

He’s trying to kill you, you remind yourself. Maybe don’t think about how close his big body is to yours and how you can hear the sound of his breathing. You wondered what he looked like under the mask, if he was as elated as you were right now. 

You’re struggling to breathe, remember? Oh right, your eyes roll back as your breath is stolen from you and your face almost purples. If you weren’t currently suffering from asphyxiation, you’d realize your feet were well off the ground and you were being dangled against the tree. 

“Pl…ease,” you gasp, grabbing at his hand. But his hold was like fucking steel, “don’t…kill me..u..se me.” His grip loosens for the slightest second and you take advantage of it, breaking free and tumbling to the ground. You inhale mouthfuls of air as you grab at your bruised throat. 

The jig was up it seemed, so you did not hesitate as you latched onto him, pressing your face into his crotch and glancing up at him with as innocent of an expression as you could muster, “Please? I can be really good.” 

He immediately shoves you off, your back smacking once again into the tree. You groan again, guess he was immune to your charm.

“Fucking freak.” You almost miss it as you rub at your stinging lower back. But it’s unmissable, the sound of his voice. Deep, possibly made deeper by the confines of the mask and so fucking perfect. 

And he used it to call you a freak. 

You can’t take it anymore, you prop yourself up against the tree, slipping a hand into your leggings and rubbing yourself through your already soaked panties. Moaning loudly as you looked up at him. 

You stuffed three fingers into your sopping pussy, and he watched. Body language slightly open, as if considering if you were even worth the fuck. 

“Please, please fuck me. U-Use me.” You moaned, absolutely ruining your leggings. “You can kill me after, fuck—I need you.” Your body arched into your own touch, head falling back against the hard bark as you practically rode your fingers, thumbing at your clit and whining as your orgasm practically took you—

But you didn’t get the chance, because he was grabbing you by your hair once again, roughly bringing your face into the huge visible bulge hiding beneath his robes. You looked up at him and he down at you, before he gestured with the knife in his right hand for you to get to work.

You quickly pawed at his robes and excitedly undid his pants. Hands trembling as you set that monster free. Fuck, he was huge, bigger than anything you’d ever seen. Would this even fit in you?? Long, thick and covered in veins, there was a black tattooed band around the base that somehow made him hotter. You wondered where else he had tattoos.

Your eyes were practically heart shaped as you gave a few shallow licks to his flushed tip, shuddering at the addicting taste of his precome on your tongue. Each stripe of your tongue along his cock had you moaning, slipping your hand between your legs to rub at your clit as you took him into your mouth. 

His hand was still dusted in your hair and he was still looking down at you, watching you drool all over his cock. He applied pressure to his hold, forcefully shoving his length down your throat. You didn’t even have a moment to protest as your eyes rolled back and you struggled to breathe. He was fucking his cock into your drooling mouth like you were some sort of sex doll. Sliding in and out of your mouth like you were just another fleshlight.

You could feel your mouth swelling from the friction, hear the sounds of your gagging on his fat cock, feel the tears rolling down your cheek as you nearly suffocated, your hands digging into him as you simultaneously wished for the torture to end and wanted it to last forever. 

It did end, both thankfully and unthanfully as he emptied into your mouth, fucking a few more shallow thrusts into your face before he indelicately let you go. 

You coughed immediately, struggling to breath as his cum trickled from your lips. His hand didn’t leave you as he brought it down to your chin, keeping it closed. He was silent of course, but you could feel the threat radiating off of him as he looked down at you: he wanted you to swallow all of it, despite the fact that you were struggling to breathe. 

You gleefully obliged, feeling his warm his come sliding down your throat. He propped your mouth open with his gloved thumb and you stuck your tongue out, showing him you’d done as told. 

“Have I been good?” You pondered, with the ghost of a smirk, you brought your hand to your mouth swiping your finger across your bottom lip before sucking it into your mouth. 

And to your surprise he had a response, “You fucking slut.” Your pussy clenched almost immediately, a moan making its way past your lips. Once again, he grabbed you by your throat, dragging you off the ground and pinning you to the tree. 

He brought his knife to the front of your lose tank top, dragging it through the fabric till it tore and your chest was exposed. You could feel the cool of the blade against your inner thigh as he pushed your legs apart, tearing apart your leggings. 

With no warning—of course no warning—he stuffed his cock into you. You could barely choke out the words, “you’re too big!” around his hand on your throat, before he’d pushed himself all the way in with a slight grunt. 

The stretch was unbearable, even stuffing three fingers into your pussy prior was practically useless. Still, the pain of his fat cock digging in you set pleasure shooting through your body, had you tightening around him as you ground into him and he bottomed out inside you. 

“There’s always freaks like you.” You heard him grunt as he pulled you down on his cock, “fucking whores that want to be filled.” You managed a strangled moan as he thrusted into you. “Is that right?”  

You didn’t respond, not like you could when he was strangling you and giving you the best cock you’ve had at the same time.

 “I asked a fucking question.” You heard him say and felt his grip loosen. You could moan freely now as his cock bullied into that spot that had you gasping. 

“Yes! Yes, I’m a f-fucking whore!” You slurred, dizzy with the perfect mix of pleasure and pain. 

“Oh shut up, slut.” He pulled his cock out of you, letting you fall to the ground like you were no more than an object. 

You couldn’t even be surprised, too cock drunk to do anything more than paw at him on your knees, “Please, I’ll be a good whore for you, I’ll let you fill me up—”

He chuckled, a low perfect sound. This time you couldn’t hide the whimper that resounded at the back of your throat in response. “Let me?” His gloved hands fisted his cock in a way that couldn’t have been comfortable, but he still spurted ropes of come that landed directly onto your face and chest. He pulled you towards him, shoving his fingers into your mouth so hard you nearly gag, “I’m gonna do whatever I fucking want to you, because you’re my kill. Mine to use before I end your useless life.” 

“Yes, yes, ’m sorry—” you gargled around his lips.

“Did I say you can fucking talk?” You quickly and frantically shook your head. “Get up and turn around.” 

You obliged quickly, standing on your shaky feet, nude as you could really feel the cold night air against your naked skin, goosebumps pebbled your trembling flesh, your chest heaving and nipples hard. You turned around, facing bark, shivering through the cold of the night as you awaited his orders. 

His hands grasped your ass and you gasped, “This is what you wanted, huh?” His fingers made their way through the holes in your leggings before effortlessly ripping them and your panties off. “Some sick fantasy that your whorish mind conjured up.” His hand was around your neck again, pushing your face into the tree until you couldn’t speak, then prying your legs apart to stuff his cock into you again. 

The different angle forced a moan from your throat, fuck, you could feel him practically in your stomach. If you pressed your lower stomach you felt there would be a bulge there, an imprint of his cock buried into you with no care for how deep it could actually go.  

 “Fuck, I hate freaks like you.” He grunted into your ear, hand tightening around your neck, as you weakly whimpered, “Everywhere I turn I run into worthless sluts like you.” 

If you weren’t struggling to breath and getting fucked like an animal you would have gave a snide response. Of course he had women trailing after him, you weren’t the only freak out there with a mask kink. It was a little annoying that your pussy wasn’t the only one he used and abused. 

But fuck, you couldn’t think about that now, his fingers found its way back into your mouth again as he fucked you, your eyes rolling back and lips sucking sloppily at them. There was this delicious sound of skin clashing as his hips roughly met yours each time he pushed his dick inside you and you wondered if there was anyone watching, if someone found themselves in the woods and could see you getting used like a slut by the town killer. 

“So fucking tight.” He ground out, “It’s a shame. I should keep you as my fucktoy, just come in all your holes whenever I need it.” You moaned louder at the suggestion, pressing back against his thrusts, “but killing you will be so much more pleasant.” 

“Mmn-ffuck, y-yes, yes, please use me.” You couldn’t help the words leaving your lips as your skin scraped against the bark, sensitive nipples stimulated with each thrust and his fingers still in your mouth, pulling you apart. 

“Oh shut it.” He punctuates his words with a slap on your ass and you nearly bite his fingers. 

“Sorry, s-sorry, ‘m sorry.” You fight a smile around his fingers as he lays another slap at your ass. “So good, so goodd.” You slur and another follows it, your ass stinging. “‘M sorry—I c-can’t.” You absolutely can. 

“You’re doing it on purpose aren’t you?” He grabs your stinging cheek and squeezes, “There’s nothing you’re not into is there, you fucking slut?” 

You can’t answer because you’re about to come, your thighs quiver, pussy clenching around his cock as you fuck yourself back on it, rutting into it again and again until you come on him with a barely there whine. He follows you soon after, emptying his balls into you until the warm cum spills out of you and drips down your thighs. 

He slips his hand between them, gloved fingers pushing the come back inside as you whine from the overstimulation. “Keep it inside, you wanted it, right? Now it’s gonna be the last thing you fucking feel.” 

He’s left you once again, and you’re on the ground, naked and spent. Stuffed full of come and trembling. 

You never heard him drop the knife, nor did you hear him pick it up. But it was in his grasp as he loomed over you, mask still on his face, still setting your pussy aflame. 

 “P-Please, not yet!” You begged, latching yourself to his thigh as you rutted yourself against him. He scoffed as he watched you, your plump lips wobbly, eyes wet and pleading up at him cloudy with lust. “I can do it again, stuff me full, please.” You begged, grinding your soaked pussy against his leg until you came, squirting your juices all over him and the ground below.  

“What a fucking animal.” He scoffed, kneeling down to you, “It almost makes me feel bad for wanting to kill you.” He murmured, fingers almost delicately clutching your sweat and come soaked face, thumbing at your numb lips. At this point you were practically seeing two. 

“Maybe I’ll keep you.”, he cocked his head, before reaching for his face and pulling off his mask. You’re so delirious you can barely acknowledge it, can barely take it the handsome edges of his face, the tattoos perfectly scrawled across his skin and his red eyes staring almost endearingly down at you. There’s a slight smirk on his pink lips and you’re blinking into unconsciousness before hearing his last words. 

“You’re my kill after all.”

[nysrage]

Rollin’ To Love, Onyankapon.

synopsis: you and your friends scheduled a girls night at cascade for valentines & love seemed to roll your way.

content: romance, fluff, hard to get reader, & barely suggestive themes.

ny’s notes: so while taking a short break to reflect & improve my writing i came up with this new au inspired by @kaegetsmewetter. i advise listening to the songs i linked during their little moment to really immerse yourselves & hope you enjoy! happy love day babies! 🏹🩷

“I-I’m going to fall!”

You didn’t think your valentine’s would be going this way but it was debatable that it was better than how you’d normally spend it. This same recycled day had been the same for as long as you could remember. Just you alone in your room eating ice cream and watching your favorite movie— love jones. The few romances you had never made it past this societies ‘talking stage’ or either ended up as one of those emotionally draining situationships. It was as if love and romance never truly worked for you and only brought trouble.

Slowly you’d come to accept it, until there was a ring of your doorbell. Opening the door to your friends holding balloons, roses and some valentines cookies, “HAPPY VALENTINES BOO!” brushing past you and welcoming themselves into your home. The sight putting a smile on your face, it’d been so long that someone had done something so special for you beside your parents. “Awe y’all really didn’t have to do this..” engulfing them into a group hug and holding them tight, grateful for such attentive friends.

“Girl you deserve to feel loved on this special day too! That’s why we decided to spend the night with you.” kyndall reassured, popping one of the pink candies in her mouth.

“So go get dressed loser, we’re going to cascade!” Dallas giggled, pushing you towards your room. Whirling around in her hold with a questioning brow. “Really cascade..?”

“What.? I’m tired of the club scene and we could use some good fun like when we were teens!” Dallas shrugged, with that soft glint of excitement in her eyes. “C’mon it’ll be fun..” kyndall coaxed, fluttering those volume lashes until you gave in. surrendering your hands in the air and walking towards your room.

“Okay, okay! No promises i’m getting in that rink tho!”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Oh my god, i’m never letting yall convince me into coming here againn!” you whined, gripping onto your bestfriend’s jacket for dear life. Legs wobbling from the rolling skates gliding across the smooth floor not seeking to stop anytime soon, especially not with the crowd of people blocking your way to get to that safety wall you could hold onto.

Saturdays were still apparently the hottest for cascade, everyone seeking for fun outlet for the night. The flashing multicolored lights dancing around the walls and floors, as you and your friends entered. A upbeat set of early 2000’s song blasting over the speakers, as you waited in line to secure a pair of skates. “girl, girl girl. the niggas is out, look!” her constant tapping in of your arm made you finally look up. the group of skaters in particular that caught kyndall’s eye, vibing along to ray j’s ‘sex can i’ with their routines. the front two standing out from the rest, one with a colored buzz cut and street wear fashion. The other a fine chocolate man with a white fitted polo tee that hugged his slim-muscular build, and head full of soft deep waves. Beautiful smile still white and flashing even beneath the hues that illuminated the floor.

“Yeah, we got to get to that floor. Now.” kyndall swooned, grabbing her skates and footing towards the nearest bench to get them on.

“Damn bitch. wait for us!” Dallas laughed, the two of you following behind your eager friend.

Leading you right to this moment, settled into an uneasy stance and terrified of the little control you had over your legs right now. Skates clunking against one another as you tried your best to glide smoothly across the floor. “you got it, glide one foot after the other..” Dallas instructed, but it just seemed as if your uncoordinated body just couldn’t get with it. Wobbling above the laminated floor. Hands wrapped tightly around hers as a effort to keep yourself steady and upright, praying that you wouldn’t eat up the floor.

“Okay, m’gonna let go.” Dallas nodded, eyes on yours as she slowly released your hand. “Don’t overthink it boo.” Your body wobbling a little before it steadied as you continued to roll slowly. “I-I think i got it..” you breathed out, hand cautiously out in front of you.

“Think you’ll be good while i take a few quick laps?” She questioned and you nodded, waving her off trying to concentrate on keeping yourself steady. Counting your steps to yourself as you try not to fall on your ass in front of the big ass crowd of people. Smiling to yourself at the slightest improvement and increase in speed until another skater brushed past you, bumping into your side with a scoff. “Girl move your non-skating ass out the rink, tryna be seen n’ shit..”

Tripping over your skates and stumbling forward when suddenly a quick hand caught your arm. One strong hand resting on your waist and steadying your body before your feet could’ve swept up off the ground. “woah, you good ma?” A shaky breath left your lips as you brush your crimped hair from out of your face, “Yea, i-i’m just gonna—” refusing to look up, rolling away with a face full of embarrassment. Strong hand still holding onto your arm until you sat firmly along the bench. “Don’t trip, it’s a lot of people showing out for the crowd.”

“Slow sets the best to roll to.”

If it was even possible you became more embarrassed once your eyes met the person talking to you, The man being one of the smooth skaters that led one of the groups from earlier. Now that he was up close you could take him in fully, from his perfectly sculpted jawline to his tattoo covered arms. Those pearly white canines covered with custom open faced grills on display as he expressed his love for slow sets. barely even realizing you’d been staring awkwardly as you looked him over, but he paid it no mind just properly introducing himself to you. “Shit my bad I’m onyankapon, most just call me ony tho.”

“y/n.” briefly introducing yourself, “i can’t see how y’all do all this without falling on your ass..” you huffed, frustrated from the short time you spent out in the rink.

Ony laughed at your cute little pout, taking a seat next to you. He couldn’t lie you caught his eyes from the moment he saw you. Pretty skin glowing beneath the illuminated lights as you cautiously rolled within the crowd of people, lip tucked behind your pretty teeth with focus in your eyes. “Been doing this since grade school, plenty of practice.”

“but you just feel and move with the beat” he further explained, pointing out the many people that demonstrated his words. “Don’t think just let your body do all the work and it’ll come to you..”

The dj mixed into a slow set, the lights dimming into soft romantic hues as the ‘unthinkable’ remix by alicia keys and drake began blasting through the speakers. Mood quickly setting in as the skaters eased into the tempo, dj extending the intro as he shares his quick sentiment over the mic. “This for all my single people that hadn’t quite found that one, or even haven’t found the right words to say your ready for more. but ima help you get to ‘em tonight!”

Unbeknownst it was a song the both of you found yourselves listening to quite often these days. Not knowing when that right person would come into your life and changing that lonely destiny you found yourself believing more and more. Mindlessly swaying to the beat, ony gave you a quick glance before standing with his hand held out for you. Your eyes widening in panic when he suddenly ask you to skate with him but he wouldn’t take no for an answer, not when this had been that meant to be feeling this exact song had spoken of. Not waiting for him to finally get his one on one time with you eventually while he was in his element, and if he had to take the lead then he’d do exactly that.

“oh, no, no, no.” reaching back for a seat that was no longer in your grasp, ony shooting that same charming smile that caught your sights earlier as he pulled you onto the floor against your will. “i got you pretty, you trust me..?”

A small look of uncertainty occupying your face as you look over the crowd of skaters that vanished as you look back into his sincere eyes, giving in and uneasily skating forward to get closer to his towering form. Ony met you halfway and suavely spun your body into his, arms snaking around your waist as you took a slow unsteady breath as his hands rest just above your inner thighs. Heart thumping wildly in your chest as your body grows warm from those minuscule touches. Mind filled with nothing but him in that moment, that intoxicating jimmy choo cologne took over your senses as his protective arms tightened around you. Body turning to putty as you practically melting into his arms, nothing but a soft whisper leaving your lips.

“ony..”

“just focus on me…” warm breath fanning against your skin as his lip brushed the shell of your ear, keeping you pressed flush against him. Helping guide your movement to the slow rhythmic beat of the song, your small soft hands resting atop of his comfortably. Body submissively relaxing into his as you following his lead, swaying in sync as the two of you lose yourselves in a sensual stroll “there you go, feel the beat.” tapping softly to the beat against your thigh.

Maintaining a steady speed as if there were no one else in the building but the two of you. Strolling together for the rest of the night until the dj came to a satisfied close, happy with the outcome his slow sensual set had for the day of love. The two of you walking out the building together as the muffled music leaking through the doors. “Thank you for tonight.” you smiled, nervously pushing a loose crimp behind your ear. “Your a really good instructor.”

“Well I had a good partner.” he chuckled, that charm of his now in full swing “If you ever wanted to learn some more moves, I could give you my number..”

“Maybe even make into a little weekly date.”

“Maybe..” you hummed, looking him over as you backed away towards your friends. “same day and time next week?”

“bet, I never got your number tho.” reaching for his phone, as you giggled in the distance. Testing his patience on how much time and effort he’d really put into getting to know you, Opening the passenger door with a small smirk. “I know, see you next week ony..”

Leaving ony nothing but the memory of you and a mental note to be here waiting for you the next week.

[fl3shm4id3n]

ᵢₜ wₐₛ ₒₙₗy ₐ ₘᵢₙᵤₜₑ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧.

ꜰɴᴀꜰ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ, ꜰᴏxʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ), ꜰᴏxʏ x ꜱɪꜱᴛᴇʀ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴘʟᴀᴛᴏɴɪᴄ)

Tw: Spoilers? Missing children, child abduction, mentions of death, FNAF stuff, slight mental illness, mentions of getting committed, a bit emotional with an almost good ending?

A/N: I choose Foxy because he is my favorite both in the game and movie. Hope ya'll like this fic.

Masterlist

You were just gone for a moment, you had to use the bathroom, you thought that he'd be okay with the other kids. When you came out, he was nowhere to be seen. You looked for him everywhere, in the arcade, the ball pit, the bathroom. Then you heard that other kids also went missing. The police got called, you told your mom what happened. You were growing scared and desperate to find your brother. But weeks turned to months, and months turned to years. The police just stopped looking because they didn't find anything. No suspicious activities or of that sort. No one was found and they didn't even find one single body. It was as if they vanished like thin air. But you? You didn't stopped, you didn't plan on stopping until you found what happened to your brother.

Not only that, but your dreams got all sorts of weird. You had always dreamt of the same thing. You were at the Pizzeria, stepping out of the restroom, wearing the same clothes as you did that day, except the place would get darker and more sinister. The people around you have become faceless and the music sounded much more dimer. You'd spot your brother for a moment, then he'd vanish into thin air. Every time that would happen, you'd call out to him. Screaming his name around the pizzeria. You'd also hear a voice, it sounded robotic. It would always spell out something that you couldn't quite catch. But there were some letters that you could make out. 'C...O...M...E... F...I...N...D M...E...'. You were never able to hear it clearly, it sounded like a broken cassette tape. Then you'd wake up. The dream went on for years, you never really dreamt of anything else. If you did, it would always be something that happened in your childhood, evolving your brother. A lot has changed since he turned out missing.

Now it was the early 2000's, you were already an adult. Working a nine to five job at a Target at the mall and living with your mom still. That early morning, you've woken up from that dream. Again, that same dream. You walking out the bathroom, still wearing that outfit you wore that day and the place was full of faceless people and that music. God that music made shivers run down your spine. You did what you'd always do, look for your brother. It always ended with with you entering the main lobby, near the small single stage. And again, that voice. 'C...O...M...E... F...I...N...D M...E...'. You never could make out what he was saying. Then you'd wake up. You didn't understand it. You never understood it. You got ready for work. You put on your red polo shirt with your name tag and your light brown kaki pants. Before you left the room, you looked at a picture sitting in your night stand. It was of you and your brother, on his birthday. You remembered that summer how he had a pirate themed birthday party. He loved pirates. You remember how he would walk around with a black eyepatch and a hook on his right hand. You would even play with him when your mom would be out working late. You always choose to be a mermaid or the villain in his games. You missed those times.

Besides that, you never really planned on going to school for anything. That was the last thing you would be worried about. So you decided to work, maybe save up enough money to maybe hire a private investigator or someone who can help you find something. Now you were at work, doing what you'd normally do. Just helping customers and ringing them out. It was just a regular day. It felt slower than most days. You heard from your coworkers that a security guard got fired, before he punched a guy who he mistook as a kidnapper. If you were in his situation, you'd probably do the same. Now a-days you didn't know who you could trust or you couldn't even look away from a moment because something could happen with a blink of an eye. It was understandable, at least to you.

You've been invited to do things with your coworkers, except you've declined. Always telling them that you were busy or you just didn't feel like going out. It was hard for you to make friends, you had basically isolated yourself from everyone when your brother turned up missing. You never really tried to make friends again. This worried your mom. Since you'd only go to work, go home, eat and sleep. It was a repeated cycle. She had talked to you about going to see a therapist. But you always declined. You didn't want to go and talk to somebody about how after many years you're still on the hunt for your brother. They'll probably medicate you or get you committed into an asylum. You you avoided that topic.

After work, you were back home. In your room, looking through your book. This book had news paper articles, along with police reports, pictures and other things that you've kept for years. This was your kind of evidence that you kept. You'd study these stuff day and night, for the last couple of years. You never gave up. Not only that, but you've tried asking the owner of the place 'William Afton' if you could go into the place to investigate, except the guy never picked up the phone or responded to your letters. You've even tried to get the job as a security guard, but Steve Raglan, who was a career counselor didn't give you the job. He'd always say that. 'It wasn't good for your mental health' or that 'He needs someone who's more calm and collected'. What he probably meant was that he needed someone who wasn't crazy.

You were busy looking at the old, now yellow news paper. Re-reading the article about the missing kids. You've read it many times by now, you might even memorize it. Then you heard someone knock at your door, then they came in. It was your mom. Who had a face of worry. "Y/n? Have you ate anything?" She asked, looking over you saw that she still had her work uniform on, she must have got back. "No, not yet." You responded, then she got closer. Seen what you were reading. She let out a sigh, as if she was exhausted of some kind. "Again? Y/n, we've been over this." She said, then you looked over at her. "I know, but... I just got to find something." You added to her.

She looked at you, seen the dark circles under your eyes. Indicating that you didn't get much sleep. "Baby, it's been years." She said, while looking at you. "You just... have to accept that he isn't coming back." She said sadly, as if she didn't want to say it, but she did. "I know... I just... want to know what happened to him.. or at least who took him.." you added in defense. Your mom then fidgeted with your hair a bit, as if she was fixing it. "So do it, but... you have to stop this obsession. It's not good for you." She said to you. It went silent for a moment, then your mom let out a small sigh. "I'll get dinner started, I'll come to get you in a bit." She said, giving you a small squeeze to your shoulder and she left your room. You sighed, placing your hands on your cheeks and leaned on the desk. Trying to think of what your mom said. Then you looked at picture sitting on the night stand for a moment. After a whole silent minute, you got up from the desk and went into the kitchen where your mom was, to help her with dinner.

You were at the food court, you had taken your lunch break, now you were heading back. You weren't watching where you were going and you've bumped into somebody. Making them drop a book of theirs. "Shit, I'm sorry." You said, picking up the old looking small book with the title which read 'Dream Theory'. Interesting. "It's alright." He said, then you handed the book to the guy. He was cute. He had messy brown hair and slightly tired eyes. The same description as the security guy who got fired.

"Are you... the guy who got fired from security?" you asked him. He had a look of embarrassment, but he nodded. "Yeah, that's me." He said. It was quiet for a moment, but you spoke again. "What you did was understandable." You said, making him look at you with his eyes slightly wide by your words. "You think so?" He asked. "Yeah, now a-days, you don't even know people's intentions or motives. I would have probably done the same if I were you." You explained. He only nodded at your words, at least someone also thought like him. "Well, I better go, hopefully I'll see you around." You said with a small smile. He nodded and returned the smile. Afterwards, you headed back towards your work place, while he also left to his destination.

You were back home, counting the money you kept in a shoebox underneath your bed. It was enough to fire an investigator, but you knew that you'll need more. This would probably cover the bear bare minimum. It was frustrating. You've spent a whole year saving, yet it didn't feel like it was enough. You knew that you should have got a job sooner, than later. Again, you went through the same old articles and pictures. Trying to find something again. But nothing, it was the same old thing. The same words and the same people in the pictures. Of kids playing around the arcade and one of a person dressed as a yellow bunny. That was odd, you don't remember that bunny at the pizzeria. When was he added? When you looked at the picture of him posing with a girl with blonde hair in pick tails, it felt creepy in a way. Almost unsettling. You didn't really notice this picture or you probably didn't notice it at first.

It was another day, you were in the register, ringing people out. You sighed, in exhaustion. Your feet were hurting and time felt much slower than usual. Another costumer came to the register. You gave them the best smile. "Hello-" you were cut off guard, seen that it was that guy you met the other day. "Oh, it's you. Find everything alright?" You asked him, like you'd normally asked every costumer. You scanned the box of crayons and paper, along with a few things he had in his basket. "Yeah, thanks." He said, while grabbing his wallet. "Found a job yet?" You asked him, out of politeness. "If you haven't, I'm sure you could send in your application." You said. "I actually already did, but thank you for the offer." He responded. You nodded, as you placed the items in a white plastic bag with the red Target logo. "What did you find? If you don't mind me asking." You asked him. "A security guard, at some pizzeria. The pay isn't good, but it's something." He explained.

This caught your curiosity. "Really? What pizzeria?" you asked, putting the packet of bacon in the bag. "It's called, I think. Freddy's Fazbear's Pizza, something like that." He explained. No fucking way. You looked at him wide eyed. "For real?" You asked him, he only nodded. Then he gave you the amount of money that was due. As you handed him his receipt, you hesitated a bit. "When can I see you again?" You asked. "Hm, I don't know, maybe in half an hour while I still have time? Why?" He asked, now curious on why you'd want to see him. "It's cause... I'd like to talk to you about something. It'll be worth your while, I promise." You said, he thought of it for a minute, then he nodded. "Alright, I'll meet you in the food court... When does your shift in end?" he asked. "In about an hour, what's your name by the way?" You asked him. "It's Mike." He told kindly, as you hummed in response. Watching him leave in a bit of a hurry, you went back to work hoping that the time would go by fast.

After that hour, you were at the food court, waiting for Mike to arrive. He finally did. "Thanks for coming." You said almost shyly. "No problem, but just make it quick. I got to get back home to get ready for my first shift." He explained. You and him sat on a table. "Look, I know you've only known me for a bit. But, please hear me out." You said. Mike nodded, allowing you to processed. "Could you, maybe let me in the pizzeria, while you do your job. I'm just looking for something." You explained to him. He looked at you with a look of confusion. "Don't worry, I'm not going to steal anything, I'm just looking for something." You explained to him. But he wanted to know a bit more. "I don't know. What exactly are you looking for? Treasure of some kind?" He asked. "Well, almost something like that." You told him, but he still not very convinced. You didn't know whether you should tell him the whole story on why you're interested in going into the pizzeria. You just skipped the subject.

"Not only that, but I'll pay you for your troubles. I just want to go in and look, then I'm out." You added, as soon as you said 'paid' he looked at you with more reason. "How much?" he asked. "Two-hundred dollars per night. It'll just be this week and no more." You told him, seen the look of shock in his face. He thought for a minute. Then he nodded his head. "Alright deal, but, you have to pay first. I don't want to get scammed or anything." He said, then you grabbed your wallet and handed him two fifty dollar bills. He took the money and looked at it, in almost as if he'd never seen that amount in while. "That's all I have for now, but I'll give you the rest afterwards." You explained to him. Mike nodded, he seemed as if he was convinced. "Alright, it's a deal then." He said. After that was settled. "Before I go, here's my house number. Call me if anything." You explained to him, writing your house number on a piece of paper and gave it to him. You normally wouldn't give your number to anyone, but you knew that you'd be seen him for the next couple days.

Back home, you told your mom that you'd be going out at night for the whole week. For some kind of night shift and you'd be back at 6:00 am. You left home and headed to the pizzeria. It was 11:55 pm. You were sitting in your car, waiting for Mike to arrive. A few minutes passed and he had arrived at 12:00 am. On time. He told you to just be smooth and not make it seem as if you were here. He sounded as if he really needed this job. You nodded understandingly and went to search.

Like before, you searched everywhere that you could. Except you got to look more. In the kitchen, boiler room and in the back. But nothing. Despite not finding anything, you'll be back tomorrow night. When you got back to the main lobby, you heard strange movements coming from the single stage. It had dark purple curtains like the main one. You got a bit close, trying to listen and see closely on what was making the inside of the stage move. You reached out and tried to pull the curtains, until you heard the Mike called out to you. "Hey, it's 6:00, we gotta go." He said, you nodded at him, you looked back at the stage. Before you headed out. "Here's the rest." You told him, giving him the other two fifty bucks. He took them. "Thanks." He said, putting the money in his pocket. "No, thank you for letting me do this. I know it's risky." You said with a small smile. "It's nothing really, I just... really need the money and the pay here is not so great. From what I was told." He explained. You nodded. "I understand." You responded to him. "Well, I'll see you later tonight?" you asked him. "Yeah. See ya." He responded with a small awkward smile, then headed to his car. You did the same.

You went home, slept for a few hours. You had that dream once again. But, there was a slight change. When you got to the small single stage, the voice sounded much different than before. 'Y...O...U... F...O...U...N..D... M... E...' You could slightly make out the letters, but the words completely. Then you woke up again. Like always. You got ready and went to work and after work you went home, then you left to the pizzeria at the same time as you did before. Mike arrived, you paid him the while two hundred dollars and you got to doing what you were doing. You searched in the same places, but this time you looked more in the main lobby. It felt as if you were getting closer to finding something, and that something was in the main lobby. You looked under the tables, bathrooms and even in the trashcans, but nothing. But it still felt close. Looking over at the single stage, you noticed that the curtains were open. You walked over to it, and saw that it was empty. Dammit, you thought something would be in there, before you could leaned close to look inside. You heard a loud thud in the office.

Quickly you ran towards the office. "Mike?" You called out to him, seen that he was on the floor groaning in pain. Bleeding from his arm. You went over and helped him up from the floor. "You good? What happened?" you asked him, setting him back on the chair. "I think so, dunno how that happened." He said, referring to the wound on his arm. It looked nasty. You looked around the office, trying to find a first aid kit. When you found it, you helped him patch up his wound. "What did you do?" You asked him, as you tightened the bandages on his arm. "I have no idea, I just dreamed of this kid, with a pirate hook. I chased after him, then he slashed me." He said, this caught your attention. 'Boy with a pirate hook.' That must have been a sign somehow.

When you got back home, your mom was getting ready to leave. You talked for a bit before she left. When she did, you went to catch some sleep before work. You went back to that same dream, back at the pizzeria, except you were in the last place where it ended. At the single stage, it was open. But it was empty. You got close, leaning in to look inside, but it was dark. All most like a bottomless pit. You stoke your hand in to see if you might find something, inside but you felt something grabbing your hand in the process. You heard the voice again. 'Y...O...U... F...O...U...N..D... M... E...'. Then the house phone rang. Making you wake up with a loud gasp, a bit frightened. Groaning that you've been woken up. You got up and walked towards the living room. You picked up the phone and answered.

"Hello?" you asked through the phone. "Y/n? Hey it Mike, sorry to interrupt whatever you were doing, but. Did you break into the pizzeria earlier this morning?" He asked, sounding worried in a way. "No? I was home the whole time. Why what happened?" You asked him. "Apparently someone or a group of people broke in. I just wanted to conform something." He explained. "That was it, sorry for interrupting." He apologized. "It's alright, I get it. I'll see you later tonight." You said, then you hung up. Who the hell would break into the pizzeria? That was a bit suspicious. You looked at the time and saw that it was close to being time to go to work. You sighed, walking back to your room to get ready.

Later that night, you were back at the pizzeria, waiting for Michael. He arrived, once he parked and stepped out of the car, then he went to the passenger door and opened it. A little girl stepped out with a small back pack. They both approached you. "Sorry, I couldn't get a hold of the babysitter and I just couldn't leave her alone." He explained to you. "Are you Mike's girlfriend?" she asked. Making you giggle and her brother's face turned a slight red. "Nah, just a friend." You replied to her. "Hm, I didn't think he'd have any." She said, making you laugh and Michael's face becoming redder. After you had a small introduction, you went in.

The place was trashed and a mess. While Mike went to put Abby to sleep, you decided to get some cleaning supplies to help clean the mess. You went to the janitor's closet to find some things, you spotted how on the door there was a dark liquid that had been splattered on there. Weird, it looked almost similar to blood, it was probably an old stain of some sort. You got brooms, dustpans, a bucket, mop and cleaning products. Then headed back to the main lobby. When Michael arrived, you and him got to cleaning. You both swept, mopped and you stocked up the chair and tables. Afterward, he went back to the office while you went on your search. Trying to find any kind of new clues maybe, but nothing. Some 'evidence' must have been cleaned up. You headed back to the office and saw that Mike was asleep and Abby had woken up. "Can you take me to the bathroom please?" She asked. You looked over at her sleeping brother and back at her. "Yeah, lets go." You said, taking her hand and leading her to the restroom.

You were waiting outside of the restroom, waiting for her to finish so that she could go back to her brother. The door opened and she walked out. "Done." She said with a small smile. Then a small noise was heard in the stage. You and Abby looked over for a minute. "Stay behind me." You said, then you slowly walked towards the lobby, with Abby behind you. You saw how the stage slightly shook, you kept the younger kid behind you, grabbing a broom. To defend yourself. Then the curtains of both the stages opened, revealing the animatronics. Of a bunny, bear, and a chick. They were all in good condition, with a bit of dirt and dust on them. The single stage had a fox, a bright red one that was more tattered than the rest, also with some dust.

They all moved their heads, towards your direction. Then they began to walk towards you both. You don't remember them doing that. You held the broom tightly, and kept Abby behind you. Except she peaked and looked towards the animatronics. "Those are my friends." She said, removing herself from behind you and going up to the four animals. "Abby wait." You said, getting closer to them. She seemed as if she knew them. Did she? You kept your broom in hand, watching as Abby interacted with them as if she's known them all her life. You felt something touch your shoulder, looking over, you saw the red fox. He was moving his ears and hook for a hand excitedly. Instead of feeling scared, you felt some kind of attraction? "It's okay, he just wants to hug you." Abby said to you, now the animatronics were looking at you. "He does?" you asked her, she then nodded.

Turning to face the fox, that was twice your size. You set the broom aside, then you extended your arms and moved closer to him. He did the same. You wrapped your arms around the cold fur like robotic body. His arms were around your smaller body. It felt a bit odd, but the more you hugged him, it felt comforting. You felt his hook for a hand giving you small pats, as a way to ease you. This felt nice, then you pulled away from him. Looking at him in his single eye. He moved his jaw excitedly, as well as his ears. It was cute in way. You gave him a small smile. Out of nowhere Abby began to laugh, you looked over and saw how the others were tickling her. She just laughed, which lead to some playful screaming and her telling them to stop. It was all fun and games, until you heard Mike run in to see what was happening.

As soon as he got there, he assumed Abby and you were in some kind of danger, he then grabbed a chair and held it up, as Freddy approached him. About to fight him. "It's okay Freddy, he's my brother Mike." Abby said towards Freddy, who had seemed to have calmed down. Allowing him to let Mike pass. "Mike, this is Bonnie, Foxy and Chica. Everyone, this is Mike." Abby introduced everyone to on another. "This is... is a joke right?" He asked, looking confused at you. "I thought I was tripping, but no." You responded to him. "It's okay Mike, they just want to play." Abby told Mike, then Chica turned to her and gave her a wink, making her smile.

"Alright, it's time to go, come on." He encouraged Abby. "Hold on." She responded to him, then she grabbed her little notepad and a red marker from her pocket. She drew something real quick and tore it off the notepad. Bonnie held out his hand, letting Abby put the picture on his palm. He then showed the picture to Foxy who looked very interested in the heart drawn on the paper. "I had a lot of fun." Abby told them, she then walked towards Mike. But stopped and gave Freddy a nice hug. Freddy returned the hug back. You looked at Foxy, who was waving his ears and jaw rapidly again. Also waving his hook around as if he was waving at you. "I'll see you around?" you asked him, he nodded his head. Then you walked out of the place with Mike and Abby.

"That was something." Mike said, watching Abby get in his car. "Yeah, it was." You responded, looking back inside, seen that Foxy was near the door. You guessed to make sure that you would all leave. You turned back to Mike who was closing and locking the gate. "So, find something?" He asked again. "Not yet, but I'm much closer than before." You explained to him. After he finished locking up the door. "I better get going. I got work in a few hours." You told him. "Alright, I'll probably stop by." He teased, making smile. "Alright, don't be a stranger." You told him, then you looked at Abby. "Goodbye Abby." You said kindly to her and she gave you smile, then you headed to your car, turned on the engine to get home. Back home, your mom wasn't there. You assumed she went to work early. You took off your shoes and just jumped on the couch, getting comfortable. Taking yet another nap before work. Hopefully afterwards you could get some better sleep. You fell asleep shortly afterwards.

You back at the pizzeria, except wasn't almost scary looking and dark like before. It seemed more friendly and nice to be in. You were standing outside the bathroom, the same clothes as before. Looking around, you saw someone in front of the single stage, they were small, like a child. You got closer to see who it was. Your eyes widen when you saw the back of that person's back of his head. They slowly turned around. You saw that it was your brother, he looks just like how he did when he went missing. He had on his orange shirt with blue jeans, shoes and his pirate hook that he had made.

"You found me." He said, you felt your eyes watering. It's been so long since you've seen your brother. You almost forgot how he looked like. You said his name in a whisper, then you went over, getting on your knees and pulling him into a hug. "Oh...I'm so sorry, I was only gone for a minute. I knew I should have been more watchful of you." You said, as you cried more, hugging your brother. "It's okay. You found me" He responded to you, all you could do was hug him and cry. As much as you wanted to continue to hug and be with him, you couldn't. This was only a dream. You pulled away, and looked at him in the eyes. "Please... I have to know... who took you?" You asked him, hoping that he'd give you answer or a clue. He didn't say anything. "Please tell me, who took you from me and mom?" You asked him again, but again. Nothing. Before you could ask him again. You woke up.

ₙₑₓₜ ₚₐᵣₜ

[axryl]

ayato’s not one to love.

as the head of the yashiro commission, there’s really no room for things such as love in his life. 

the elders try to get him into the dating scene but to no avail. because every person they’ve attempted to get him with was just not compatible at all. each one has walked out of his life claiming that he was just too much of a monotonous person to bear, or too little of a conscientious romantic partner. 

and to be fair, ayato agrees. there are other matters to focus on than the topic of love. 

the bustle of inazuma city’s streets snaps him out of his thoughts as he walks through the small crowds around each shop. 

this has to be the first time he’s ever gone out shopping alone; without the assistance of thoma. because each shopping stall he walks by seems so unfamiliar, each one with various trinkets, clothing, accessories, or food to be sold. 

eventually, his eyes caught onto a lone shop in the distance, not far from the rest of the stalls. ayato lights up almost immediately as he reads the painted bubble letters of the word ‘boba’ on the sign.

“5000 mora!”

the lady behind the stall smirks. she crossed her arms before outstretching an open hand out, expecting a bag of mora from the blue-haired man. ayato can’t help but stare at the lady’s open hand dumbfoundedly. 

of course, money was never really a problem for ayato. but 5000 mora for a drink of boba? it was ridiculously overpriced, and even he knew it. ayato cursed under his breath, before reaching for the wallet in his pocket. it was no wonder this shop had no customers at all. 

“ah, don’t be like that, yuki!”

curious, he turns to the person next to him and his heart skips a beat at the sight. you stand next to him, and he swears you’re glowing, hand on your hip as you seemingly haggle with the lady running the boba stand.

“c’monnn, we’ve been friends for so long! do me a favor just this once, hm? you owe me, remember?” you wink at yuki, and she grumbles something incoherent under her breath as she uncrosses her arms and looks at ayato. 

“3500 mora. take it or leave it.” yuki mutters, and he hears a ‘pfft!’ from you beside him. “you can do lower than that!” yuki immediately glares at you, whereas you grin at her cheekily. he hears a tongue click in yuki’s direction, and he assumes it’s one of irritation as she glares at ayato next. 

“2000 mora. I’m not going any lower than that.”

“that’s more like it, thanks yuki” you chuckle. yuki grumbles in response before she moves to prepare the sweet beverage. 

“don’t mind her, she’s just like that” ayato turns his full attention onto you. 

“oh, are you… okay?” you point out his open mouth, wide from surprise at the situation that just played out in front of him. how did you manage to haggle a price from 5000 mora to a cost as low as 2000? he snaps out of his daze and his cheeks flush into a pale pink as he closes his mouth, cursing internally at having been acting like a fool in front of the incredibly attractive person in front of him. 

“ah, apologies” he coughs into his fist before bowing, “thank you… for doing that for me, i appreciate it.” ayato flashes you a smile, and you chuckle in turn. “don’t be! It’s fine, really. some of the people here tend to overprice the things they sell so i’m more than glad to… negotiate prices hahaha”

he can’t help but stare at each one of your features, each one being so unbelievably gorgeous to him as you continue to make conversation while yuki prepares his drink. “sorry, i’ve forgotten- but, your name?” you ask, tilting your head as your mouth curved into a smile.

“ayato. delighted to make your acquaintance…?” he trails off, looking at you expectantly. “it’s y/n! nice to meet you too, ayato.” 

he grins, “delighted to make your acquaintance, y/n.” 

“well as much as i’d like to stay and chat with you, i have somewhere else to be right now.” 

ayato wishes you didn’t notice his face instantly going downcast at your words. 

“i’ll see you around, ayato”

“oh. yes, goodbye then.”

you flash him a sympathetic smile, before moving past the crowd and disappearing from his sight. he lets out a sigh, yet the corner of his mouth tugs up into a smile at your interactions with him. 

ayato’s not one to love.

but for you? he’ll make an exception.

[thlayli-ra]

The Chain

Characters - Drew McIntyre, CM Punk, AJ Lee (mentioned)

Pairing - Drew McIntyre/CM Punk, CM Punk/AJ Lee

AU - Soulmates AU

Rating - Mature, 18+ only

Warnings - Physical assault, blood and gore, wound-fucking (mentioned), this is NOT a love story!

Words - ~ 2000 words

Summary - After viciously attacking Punk at Smackdown, Drew steals something very personal. (Written from Drew's POV.)

I'm just a girl. Looking at a boy. Stealing a bracelet from another boy and wondering... how can I make this so much worse?

I never understand when people talk about these little red strings of fate. Where I'm from, we are connected by chains. Linked to our bodies by a sharp hook embedded in our chest, directly into our hearts. Does it hurt? Oh aye, it hurts. But doesn't it always hurt? Love, I mean? Maybe we're just raised to believe that...

The hook appears first. You don't even need to actually be with the person in question, but as soon as a soulmate connection is made, the hook starts to form. And the pain begins. It's the worst part of the whole process.

But then, the chain starts fading into existence, softly as first, like a haar, getting clearer and heavier until - if you're lucky enough to find the perfect partner - it snaps into being. Then you're hit with this... I don't know how to describe it... this shockwave of euphoria. And it's all worth it. The pain, the hurt. You don't even notice it anymore once your chain has formed.

One soulmate? Are ye daft? No, you don't just get one soulmate per person. This is the real world ye numpty! I've had two chains in my life. Some chains form then fade again, others start off faint and snaps once they've worked at their relationship. For some folk, no chain forms at all - other's don't even get the hook! - then you know you're completely wrong for each other. But then... I've seen couples who were full-on toxic and they've got a perfectly formed chain between them so who am I to judge?

And as I'm standing here, the echo of a steel door colliding with a man's face reverberating around my skull, I'm reminded of the very few who snap right from the very beginning. Punk's was like that. I can see it now, his chain snaking around my feet as he lies there, coughing up his own blood.

I've known Punk a long time so I can still remember it happening. When him and AJ began making out sloppy style in front of the cameras and the two of them parted with a wince to find the hooks digging their way into their hearts. The chain was already manifesting then too.

Must have spooked them because their instant reaction was to run in the opposite direction, straight into another's arms. But it's always the same with these things; once you've seen that chain, you start to wonder. From what I heard, the very instant they decided to give it a go between them, the chain snapped with a blinding light. It's been the same ever since, even through some very trying times for them both.

I hate that fucking chain. Just another reminder of something he doesn't deserve. Isn't it enough that's he's held all the gold, all the prestige, all the accolades and respect and devotion of his mindless fans when he's nothing but a cancer in every locker-room he's ever been in. How could he possibly deserve the girl too? And the dog?

And the chain?

He doesn't!

If I could, I would smash that chain to pieces but I can't. It's sitting right there by my toe at this very moment, but if I move my boot, it just ghosts through it like an illusion. I can grab my own chain, but nobody else's.

The hook, however...

The doors begin to open and I'm reminded of why I came. Grabbing Punk, I haul him over my shoulders and march my way into the bowels of the arena, heading straight for gorilla.

This is Chicago. Punk's home crowd. They love him here, always have and always will. No matter how much of a prick he is or how many sins he commits against others.

Like me!

Less than a week ago, I was in front of my home crowd. Unlike Punk, I had to fight to get a PLE in my home, to bring the WWE to Scotland. It took years but I finally got through to the higher-ups and convinced them that my bonnie wee country was ripe for a major event and that the crowd would raise the roof. I was proven right! They welcomed us with open arms and brought the energy, flooding the OVO Hydro with ear-splitting noise.

Was there any doubt? After all - no Scotland, no party!

But for me personally, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. After all those years of being snubbed, of being overlooked, called a Chosen One by the boss then getting fired and dumped on my arse like yesterday's rubbish, I was finally going to get my time in the spotlight. I was the main-event, competing for the World Heavyweight Title and I was going to win it. How could I not with my people cheering me on, their support the wind in my sails, spurring me to greatness.

But Punk stole that all away from me! Why? How was it fair? I could have gone down in history, inspired a whole new generation of Scottish wrestlers! We're only a country of around five million - Chicago itself has half of that alone! Didn't we deserve our share of the glory? Weren't we allowed to believe for a single bloody night that we could be more?

But no! He left me lying on my back in my home town, clutching my bawsack where his stupid over-priced trainer had struck me. A cheap shot, like the cheap-arse bastard he is!

I'm here to repay the favour. Finally punching my way through the curtain, I stand at the top of the ramp, the jeers ringing out all around me, feeding me. I let them get a good eyeful of their so-called 'hero' slung across my shoulder like a stag I shot in the woods. Then I throw him to the ground. He lands with a satisfying crunch, a tangle of noodle limbs and blood splatters.

The noise increases. I lap it all up like a sponge. Punk's been lucky enough to triumph in front of these people. The roar they made when he faced Cena at Money in the Bank was deafening, became something of legend in its own right. He won it for them, then tore off through the crowd with his stolen prize and they loved him for it. Guy isn't even from Chicago! He's from fucking Lockport!

(But then, I guess the same could be said for me and Glasgow. I'm from Ayr, thirty odd miles away but I started out there, lived there, worked there, made my reputation there and rebuilt it there when everything seemed lost. My heart belongs to Glasgow. Guess Punk feels the same about Chicago.)

But it's not the only thing his heart belongs to, is it?

I crouch down. Punk is still reeling from the head blows and barely registers me looming in so close. I can hear his raspy breaths, see his chest quivering up and down. I then spy his hook half-embedded, off-centre to the left.

It's considered the height of moral corruption to touch another person's hook. Degenerate, perverted, an abomination. Like cooking a meal for a guest with your own shit. Yet, as my hand draws near to it, my fingers trembling, I feel a spark of electricity dancing through my nervous system. A frenzied anticipation that I can't quash. It screams through my veins as my fist wraps around the hook, feeling the weighty bulk of it on my palm.

Then I yank on it.

Punk's whole body jerks and his eyes leap open but it's too late. There's nothing he can do as I pull on his hook like King Arthur with his sword trapped in stone. It's stuck deep! I am no weakling by any stretch of the imagination but it still takes me all of my strength over several attempts to finally wrench it free.

It slurps loose with a wet squelch. Punk tries to scream but his voice is trapped in his throat beneath a fresh pouring of blood. His blood smears my hands too, falling freely from the grisly hook as I stand again, taking it with me. I admire it. It's not large, slightly bigger than my palm, and is marred with wear and tear, much like its owner.

However, up close, it shines. I had never noticed it before. How, when the light hits, it glints a golden hue that sparkles. It's dazzling. I suddenly feel the burden of having something I shouldn't in my possession, like a British archeologist taking an Ancient Egyptian mummy from its tomb. I'm every bit as fascinated by it too, stroking my hand over it, dirtying my fingers even more with Punk's blood.

'No...' Punk feebly whines. The lady doth protest, it seems.

The outcry from the mob is thunderous but I'm already tuning it out. All I care about is the golden sickle in my hand and the chain that dangles from it, so flawless and beautiful and-

I hitch a breath! The chain! I can... feel it! Solid in my hand, like magic. I'm too shocked to wonder why but every instinct in me is shrieking to test the limits of my newfound power. I grab the chain in both of my large hands. There's a rhythmic sensation like a pulse running through it, and it's so warm. Like something small and fragile and living. A captured rabbit, trembling in my grasp before I twist its neck.

I yank hard and the chain cleaves straight in two. I hear a horror-filled cry. It was Punk! Ohh, he felt that! I enjoyed that sound! Gathering up the tattered remains of his chain, I consider breaking another piece to hear that delicious squeal again when I'm distracted by the gaping hollow in his chest. A gruesome wound, wide like an open mouth. I'm actually shocked to feel a burning desire between my legs, thoughts of sticking my dick in there and fucking that cavity raw like a pussy. Shoving my hand in to hold his heart in my palm, feel it pound with terror as I squeeze it tighter. Could even just lower my breeks and piss right in there, why not? Wee shite deserves it!

But before I can do anything, I hear an angry shout and there is Nick Aldis himself. Fucking cock-blocker that he is! I'm raging at the interruption and shove him back but he's swarmed by his lackeys and I'm forced to retreat for now.

I take one last look at Punk's mangled body. What was it you said Punk? That you would "break my heart"? Did that make you feel like a big man, eh? Some kind of Johnny Big Baws? Well once again, you proved how empty your promises are and showed everybody that your sweet sentiments are hollow.

Now you have a chest cavity to match!

I pocket my prize, the blood tainting the lining of my jeans. I tap it lovingly, enjoying the solid mass of hook and broken chain through the denim.

I'll hold onto it for now Punky. For safe-keeping. Maybe, just maybe, if I feel like it, I might try it on for size. See how it is to have a little piece of you inside of me.

For a fleeting moment, I think my own chain flickers, but I'm sure it's just a trick of the light. Hope Kaitlyn didn't notice.

They're loading Punk into a stretcher now. Strapping his stupid, bloodied face into a neck brace. He looks so small and pathetic without his chain, but that's what I want!

A boat without its anchor.

Cast adrift.

Waiting helplessly for the monster from the deep to wrap its tentacles around and swallow it whole.

[madsworld15]

Letter to Gavin Creel

Dear Gavin,

I was in the middle of a major website project at work on Monday when I heard that you had passed away. For the first time in my life, I actually sobbed hysterically at the death of someone famous. When I say sobbed hysterically, I mean unable to focus on anything because my eyes were too wet and my chest was too tight. I hadn’t cried like this since the day my grandmother died four years ago.

You see, I don't usually get this visibly upset when people in the public sphere pass away. Sure, I was sad when people like Sondheim, Betty White, and Robin Williams died. But I've never been so upset that I couldn't function. That is just your impact on the world, for me and so many others.

The last time I saw you in person was in 2017 at the stage door of She Loves Me. Despite it having been years since then, I believe that if we’d met at a stage door or other event today, you’d still recognize me. Because that is the type of person you are. I guess were, now that you’ve passed, but I can’t find it in myself to talk of you in the past tense. It just doesn’t seem real that someone so full of life and immortal is no longer here with us, dancing through this thing called life.

You don’t know this, but I got to see you perform in my favorite musical, Into the Woods, when the tour came to Philadelphia in April of last year. It was a last-minute decision that fell on a weeknight, so I couldn’t stay late afterward to stage door. Of course, I thought to myself that I’d have plenty more opportunities to see you work your craft. Now that you’ve passed, I wish I had said “fuck it” to having to be at work the next day and stayed to chat with you.

Like so many of those who looked up to and admired you, I first discovered you when I was in HS watching Eloise at the Plaza. As a child, I had adored the Eloise books, so naturally, I was excited to see a film made about the precocious girl. Back then I had no idea who you were, just that your name was attached to the character of Bill. I adored Bill and his silly, over-the-top theatrics and became obsessed with watching the movie just for him – though Eloise was great, too.

Then, as a freshman in college, I started talking to this person from New York City through a mutual fan group on Facebook. She encouraged my very limited knowledge of musical theatre and introduced me to so many new things. One of them was a bootleg recording of Hair from 2009. The energy you exuded on stage was palpable, even from the grainy 2000s video.

At that point in my life, I was sure I would never get out of Kansas. I knew I was different and didn't fit in with the other people in my small-town Kansas community. By the time I left and moved to NY in 2013, I still wasn't sure what my identity was, but I was certain I belonged to the queer community. Upon arriving in New York, I quickly found myself immersed in the musical theatre community there.

One of the first shows I saw was The Book of Mormon. I would visit the theatre at least once a week, sometimes even twice. I didn't really have the finances to do that, but my mental health demanded comfort, and that show was where I found it. So, once or twice a week, I would play the lottery or do standing room.

By the time you moved from The Book of Mormon on the West End to Broadway, I was ready for you but also hesitant to love you because your predecessor, Nic Rouleau, had had such a profound impact on my mental health and self-worth. From the moment I met you, though, I knew I could never have any feelings other than love for you.

Sure, I already knew I loved you as a performer from the years of watching bootlegs of your performances, listening to your EPs, and loving you in Eloise. However, my connection and attachment to The Book of Mormon was so great that each time the leads switched, I had a hard time adjusting.

It was different with you, though. You immediately took me under your wing and made me know I was important to you. That first night, you forced me to hand over my phone for our photo, and you scrolled through filters until you found the one you wanted. Then you insisted we do silly faces, that serious faces weren't needed. It was as if you knew I needed comfort more than a professional stage door selfie.

Over the course of the year you were part of the Broadway company, we interacted many times. Every time you saw me, your face would light up, you'd insist on a silly photo, and then you'd ask me if I was doing okay and how work was going. You genuinely wanted to know. It was something that got me through those extremely dark days of working a job I hated but not knowing any other path I could go on.

I didn't ever tell you this, but those moments kept my suicidal thoughts during that time at bay. Knowing I could swing by the stage door at any time, whether I'd seen the show or not, and talk to you was what got me through. We never talked about anything profound or world-changing, but you asking me about my day and encouraging me to find my passion changed my whole life.

After you left Mormon, I didn't see you again until the final days of She Loves Me. I fully expected you to not remember who I was, but you did. Once again, your smile grew at the sight of me, and you made a joke while wiggling your face to emphasize the mustache on your face. I wish I'd taken more time to tell you about my life that day. To connect more with you, but I didn't.

I had no way of knowing that would be the last time I would see you perform for many years. Not long after that, my finances took a major hit, and I moved to NJ, making trips to Broadway a bit harder to accomplish. So, I wasn't able to see you in Waitress or Hello, Dolly. But, man, did I want to. I did have the chance to watch clips of you in these shows and bask in the glory of your singing voice and stage presence, even if it was from afar.

I started to understand myself more clearly and made friends who helped me find an identity that made sense to me. Then, 2020 hit, and I suffered quite a few losses in my family. I struggled to keep my head above water, but my queer friends reminded me that there were things worth living for. Through these friendships, I started to find my way out of the mess I was in and found joy in musical theatre again. I started to listening to your personal music and the cast albums of your shows. It wasn't the only music I listened to, but it helped me get through the most.

Then, Into the Woods happened. By this time, I had started to be a co-leader in a local Tri-State Queer group. We would all get together and talk about TV, Broadway, Music, and Movies. It was so rejuvenating. A group of us got tickets to see Into the Woods on Broadway, but I couldn't be part of that due to finances. However, my best friend works for Ticket Philadelphia, so he promised that I could go with him when it came to Philadelphia on tour.

And that brings us to the close of this letter. I got to see you exude that joy all over the stage one last time in Into the Woods on Tour. It was one of the best nights of my life. Your performance of Agony will live on in my memories forever. As will your performance of I Believe in The Book of Mormon.

I never got around to telling you this in person, so I will say it now: Thank you so much for all the moments in my life that your presence or your voice got me through. Your passion for life and love was always awe-inspiring, and it's what I will carry with me through the years. We all deserved to see you do so much more in the world of Broadway, musical theatre, and beyond. Life truly is unfair, but I'm grateful for what I was able to experience with you.

Rest easy, dance often, and spread your sunshine from the beyond.

Mads

[cat-mermaid]

So I'm not a huge uber fan of X men, as in not a comic reader

I absorbed all of my knowledge of the series as a baby via the original 1992 animated series, just like I did with 1994 Spider man and then wondered why I seemed to know what was going to happen when I watched both the original spider man and x men movies in the early 2000s

saying that, theres a thought that struck me while watching x men 97

I was talking to a guy about it two days ago and its been ping ponging around in my brain the whole time:

Why are people in the world of X men ok with Super Heros but violently against mutants, which at face value, are the same thing?

My friend I was talking with and I both agreed that it had to be for a single reason:

All the Marvel super heros seen in X men the animated series gained their powers, where as mutants were born with theirs and will most likely have children with said powers.

So the reasoning then is that Captain America and the Hulk aren't threats to the future of humanity because they're "normal" humans who had power thrust onto them via science and may likely not be able to pass that on to their kids?

but heres what really bothered me:

Spider Man

We the audience know that Spider Man got his powers from a dang spider, but fucking the rest of humanity doesn't, right? In the continuity of the x men 92 animated series, which shares the spider man animated 94 series-

............................

........hell I just stopped everything and watched those two x men/spider man cross over episodes and you know what?

Spider Man goes to the Xmen for help because somthing is going fucky with his powers right?

And he FREAKS THE FUCK OUT at being told he might be changing into a mutant. Like this bitch starts screaming about he doesn't want to become freak like all of them and its like

MY BROTHER IN CHRIST YOU ARE THE SAME FUCKING THING, YOU JUST WEREN'T BORN WITH IT

like I can not put enough emphasis on how distraught Peter Parker is at the idea of becoming officially a mutant, as he stands in a room full of mutants who are giving him the stink eye so hard.

so let me finish that first thought I had:

We the audience know that Spider Man got his powers from a dang spider, but fucking the rest of humanity doesn't. They don't know Spider Man (in the 1994 animated series) is Peter Parker, they don't know who he is or how he got his powers.

So I ask, why oh why is spider man not being called a mutant by the public? Like before x men 97 I would have said oh well these are really just two separate franchises that do fun little cross overs but once they aren't they kind of don't exist in each other's world unless the writers want another cameo 4 funsies

but now that 97 has shown Marvel Super Heroes exist in this world alongside mutants, in a world that is absolutely frothing with hate and fear at these genetically enhanced humans with powers unlike that of gods....

Please explain to me like I'm 6 years old why oh WHY aren't these people ALSO frothing with hate and fear at these OTHER super humans with powers unlike that of gods

TELL ME

was this explained at any point in like the last 40 years at all? Why is it ok if Captain America got his power from a serum but not if Rouge was born with hers???

I invite anyone 2 nerd out at me and explain, I want to learn! I want to understand so I can enjoy these franchises more!

[he-goes-down]

0. There Was A Time

fic chapters/warnings/disclaimers/ect

:DISCLAIMER:

Mentions of drugs/ sex ect.

English is not my first language

POV changes

x reader

inconsistent updates

time line is not perfect or accurate

Character may also not be accurate

I'll also be posting this on wattpad and maybe ao3

So if you see it wasn't stolen<3

Also i dont know how tumblr works and how to link chapters together(someone send help)

ALSO THIS NOT EDITED IN ANYWAY SO SORRY IF THERE ARE SPELLING MISTAKES

THANK YOU FOR READING MWUAH MWUAH

LEAVE COMMENTS <3

The studio was warm in the coldest night of this Autumn, warm yellowish light and the red carpeted floor made it feel like a cosy log cabin. A full drum set with a few too many ride cymbals and windchimes sat close to the middle of the fat bare bricked wall, with a small metal bucket that had the remains of broken splinter drumsticks. A rack of guitars and two bass holders stood next to the right wall where an old armchair sits, a few different sized amps scattered round the square room. Right in front of the glass that separates the control room from the studio three mic stand in a line with noise cancelling boxes surrounding each of them.

In the control room there is a strong smell of weed and other smokeable herbs, "No! You can't take Runaway Blues off the album!" A man with short shoulder length brown hair and a moustache protested as he puffed on his cigarette as he lied back on the couch, his dark glasses fell back on his face as he tilted his head back. "I agree with Jake. It shows how good we are even when we're shit faced." The man with long curly hair, a gorgeous ethnic nose, stood up – towering over the other 4 people in the sesh – and began to roll another blunt on one of the control panels. The one that started this debated piped in, "Thanks Dan for taking my side." He said sarcastically, his curly mullet was like a solid cloud on his head, and he has a moustache like Jake. "We'll our wonderful manager and producer here," A man that looked like Jesus pointed to a woman that sat next to Jake on the couch. "Was the one that wasn't shit faced, I think that's why it was actually good, Joshua." He finished. "Hey, hey, I'm not saying it's shit because of you, please believe me y/n!" Josh dramatically pleaded to y/n. She was looking up at the ceiling. Pupils dilated. Blunt in hand. "Just, make it shorter." She said confidently, waving her hand a bit. Still not looking at anyone and head craned back. "You have the answer to everything." Danny said his mouth slightly gaped that such a simple solution didn't register in any of their minds. Or he's just on a psychedelic trip and can't spark up a brain cell.

The following week the band had dates in LA since they were still doing there 'Dreams in Gold' Tour. The band was already at the venue setting up, some still sleeping in the bus. Y/n had some business to attend to in their studio in New York before going down to LA. She decided to walk down the infamous Sunset Strip, as a historic music place like this could not go untrekked when having the chance. Wearing a black turtleneck, dark blue flare jeans with dark brown boots and a satchel bag hanging from her shoulder, a small suitcase's handle in the other hand while the silver case dragged its wheels on the floor. As she caught the sight of the colourful sign of The Rainbow, a voice called to her. "Y/n?" A older man, short blondish hair, leather jacket, sunglasses.

Axl Rose.

And like the trigger of a gun being pulled,

A life was lost.

(or misplaced)

Y/n's POV:

Everything stood still,

I stood still.

Then it all went dark. It was a black lifeless void.

Falling backwards but being physically still.

Time was reversing.

A previous life. My life?

Memories rolling past like an old film.

My head spiralled.

I can't comprehend this. What is happening to me?

My first years of school, late 60's early 70's. That's not right. It was the early 2000's.

Falling in love with music, Queen, Elton John.

Highschool was trip. My parents being stricter than anyone else's, they didn't believe I could have a job as in the music industry.

Studying music in college then going on the Uni and taking a science course to get my folks off my back.

One of my most successful record deals was Mötley Crüe and Bon Jovi.

Before they even started writing lyrics for their songs, I knew it off by heart and helped them gain success with it and recording went like dream.

Now I was searching the East Coast for a new band to sign.

March 1985, The City of Angels.

A flash of light, and my eyes flickered open.

It a cold night, dark but the city light was somewhat comforting.

It was the Sunset Strip, but something was...

Off.

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

OMG SORRY IF IT'S SHIT

THIS WAS LIKE THE INTRODUCTION, FIRST PART IS COMING OUT SOON 

IM SO EXCITED

(Band at the beginning is greta van fleet )

[roguelov]

AU where Morpheus wasn’t in the fishbowl and was able to experience the punk/rock/early 2000s edgy eras.

Death pulls him out of The Dreaming to experience humanity again since the times are changing and he needs to not be cooped up in his room like a moody teenager. They go to festivals where humans are more comfortable, everyone is dressed similarly and more expressive. Their truer selves in a sense.

Morpheus rolls his eyes at the humongous groups of people, the loud screaming of lyrics, he’s still not fond of interacting with humans and finds this whole trip a waste of time.

Suddenly the show starts and Reader is the opening act on stage playing to their hearts content. They’ve got the whole crowds’ attention in the palm of their hand. The songs’ lyrics are deep, catchy and has everyone else screaming/singing along.

Morpheus can practically feel everyone daydreaming about living better lives, getting that job, speaking up to their parents, etc. and is stunned at how much was brought out from all these humans just from one of Reader’s songs.

They end their song with a bang where confetti bursts from the edges of the stage and the crowd is loving their slow exit off to the side as they wave and blow kisses. Morpheus’ eyes follow them the whole way and the feeling he’s receiving from all the daydreamers slowly dissipates.

The main acts make their way on stage after a few minutes and the rest of the show continues without Reader being seen again. Morpheus being slightly sad he can’t hear another song. The sensation is the same from the other singers but not as strong as earlier with everyone daydreaming when Reader was at center stage.

He and Death stayed for the whole event and she asks what his thoughts are from the experience.

“What of the first singer? They were only onstage once compared to the others.”

“Why don’t we go see them then?” Death smiles knowingly and leads them both to the backstage area.

Reader is in their own section getting cleaned up and making sure they have everything. When they spot Death they run up to her with a big smile and hug her.

“I’m glad you could make it! What did you think?” They ask, still vibrating with adrenaline from the festival.

They converse with Death for a while as Morpheus stands off to the side, silently observing this person who evokes such strong dreams from people with their voice and music. A portion of himself in The Dreaming is doing research about this human who has caught his eye.

Just who are they? What drives them to make songs? What’s their inspiration? Are they single?

“And who’s you’re friend?” He suddenly hears.

Morpheus is pulled back to The Waking and sees Reader is giving him their full attention. He’s tongue-tied. Words of introduction lodged in his throat with no way to escape. The brief look into Reader’s dreams leaving him breathless and hungry to know more.

Death quirks an eyebrow at this sudden silence but hides a smirk and tells Reader a little about her brother. Eventually finding his voice, Morpheus joins the conversation just as Death excuses herself to return to her duty.

Cue friends to lovers with the King of Dreams and Nightmares being the number one fan of Reader. He always watches them when they have a show and is the first to hear a finished song and asked for any critiques. They both are fashion icons, mostly with Reader helping find an outfit for Morpheus.

This idea popped into my head and just kept going anyways I hope you liked it as much as I do 🤗

DUDE I DONT LIKE THE IDEA I FUCKING LOVE IT

Dream adored when you visited.

He especially loved the music which always followed you. It may be a hum on your lips or an actual melody - a half completed song - trailing behind you on the wind.

You were his lovely muse, his songbird.

Currently, you were in the Dreaming. You were in a music room - one Dream specifically created for you - filled with instruments found all over the Waking and the best recording studio ever imaginable.

Sitting on a couch, a laptop rested in your lap with headphones dangling around your neck. You were almost feverishly working on your newest song, one that had been stuck in your head all day. It was going along okay, it could be better. You hit a bump in the process and you wanted a fresh pair of ears.

“Dream? Could you have a listen to this?” You asked, handing over the headphones.

Dream, directly beside you with a book in hand, set the book in his lap and nodded. “I would love to.”

He put on the headphones and you anxiously pressed play. Dream was taken away, taken on a journey with your music and how you weaved your lyrics.

You truly were gifted.

Once it finished, he handed over the headphones. “So?” You nervously asked.

“I loved it.”

You groaned, “But you always say that. What does it need? Something feels missing. The chorus is catching yet it seems to … I don’t know, basic? It feels like I need better wording.”

Dream smiled softly. “I’m sure everyone will love it.” I know I do, he thought.

“But -“

“How about you take a break?” He suggested. “You had been at it all night since you first came. Relax and I’m sure time away will provide new perspective.”

You grumbled, glancing back at your screen. “How about just one more hour? I’m right there, I know it. Maybe it’s the second verse, to be honest I wasn’t completely sold on it. Or maybe it’s the melody altogether -“

He closed your laptop.

You gasped, and playfully glared at him. “Dream -“

“Time away is what is best, songbird.” He stood up, extending his hand towards you. “You will figure it out, I know you will. But, you must give yourself a break.”

You sighed. You placed the laptop and headphones down. Your hand slid into his. He easily helped you up. “Okay, okay, Sandman, I’ll relax.”

He smiled softly. “That’s all I ask.”

[littlegaybean1]

So I had a dream a few weeks ago and I thought you good omens Tumblr people would want to hear about it.

What was this dream, I hear absolutely none of you cry?

Good Omens Season Three of course!

It begins with Crowley, with his hair just above the shoulders and wavy, very similar to the 2000s Crowley hair. He's in his house, wearing sunglasses and dressed in his final fifteen outfit. Somehow my dream self knew that this was a month or two after the final fifteen. Crowley is lounging in his chair, looking depressed, with a glass of wine balanced on the arm somehow.

Then, we cut to Heaven. Aziraphale is sitting at the desk that Michael is seen at in S2, with stacks of paperwork on the desk. He's smiling, but tears are pooling in his eyes. The Metatron comes over and says something that I can't remember, to which Aziraphale says "yes of course" in his polite way with a smile. He shuffles the papers and then gets up and walks away, the Metatron looking on with an expression that I can only describe as villainous.

Then, we cut to... Hastur? Who is narrating? Subconscious brain, what are you doing? He stares straight at me (which is basically like staring at the camera) and monologues, which boils down to

"Our great heroes are separated, grieving the loss of each other when neither are dead" (sarcastically)

"Well," *chuckles* "neither are dead yet."

Cut back to Crowley. He's angry, tears streaming from underneath his glasses. He throws his wine glass at the wall before collapsing on the floor. Looking up at the ceiling, he speaks to someone above, we all know who.

"Why did you go? Why'd you have to go and leave me you adorable little bastard. You left me, I needed you! I still... I still need you. Come back. Please come back." Or something similar to that. His voice breaks and he just lies there crying.

Up in Heaven, Aziraphale can't hear him but something upsets him. He buries his head in his arms, crying.

Then, back to Crowley's flat, but this time he's not alone. Hastur, Dagon, Shax and Eric burst in through the wall, grab him and drag him out of the door whilst he's screaming and cursing at them.

Cut to Hell, in the room that Beelzebub teleported Crowley to in S2. Crowley's on a black throne, but he's chained down and his head is forced into a bowed position. The four aforementioned demons stand before him, cackling. One of them holds a sword to his throat.

Cut back to Heaven, and Uriel comes over to Aziraphale and says that they've been sent a message from Hell. The message is a live video call, showing the previous scene. Aziraphale gasps, suddenly going from mildly confused to purely terrified. His eyes flood with tears and he appears paralysed, standing stock still and eyes glued to the image before him.

The demons laugh and hiss, before burying the sword in Crowley's shoulder. It glows brightly and Crowley screams in pain. A bucket is seen next to them, and I somehow know that Aziraphale is certain that it's full of holy water. Aziraphale seems to break out of his daze, stutters a bit then says, to nobody in particular

"I'll just be two ticks"

The demons are visibly confused, as is Uriel. None of them really know what to make of this. Then, still on the video, Crowley starts to shake, and is suddenly not chained. He collapses and rolls off the chair. One of the demons shove him onto his back, where we see that Crowley is... Laughing???

"Oh, we're all seriously fucked. That's his 'I'm going to pretend that everything is fine then turn into an absolute raging maniac' voice."

He then starts laughing even harder. The demons exchange worried glances. Has he gone off his rocker?

One of the demons is getting seriously pissed off by the laughing, and stabs Crowley in the other shoulder. But this time, he doesn't scream, he just keeps on laughing.

Suddenly, the room rumbles and an extremely pissed, immaculately dressed Aziraphale appears, wielding his flaming sword. His eyes are glowing the purple of Arch-Angelic power. With two strokes of his sword, Eric discorporates and the sword pointed at Crowley is knocked away. Aziraphale stands over Crowley's bleeding form and growls in the same tone as in the bookshop

"Stay back."

He waves his hand over Crowley's body, and a shield of light splits him off from everyone. Somehow my dream self knows that Aziraphale isn't only protecting Crowley from the demons, he's protecting Crowley from him. With that, Aziraphale thrusts his sword deeply into the ground, the room shaking violently and filling with pure angelic light. When it fades, Aziraphale is covered in soot and bears several burns, and is carrying Crowley through the light, up and up back to

The bookshop.

Crowley looks up at Aziraphale in a bit of a daze, and weakly says

"Did you... Stop to change before charging down to hell?"

"I wanted to be dressed appropriately! It's not every day one fights off demons in their home territory." Aziraphale sounds defensive, but also worried.

"You idiot angel." Crowley smiles at him affectionately.

"Yes, he very much is."

DUN DUN DUN!

The Metatron appears in the bookshop, an expression of fury on his face.

"I gave you power, I gave you status, I gave you a name for yourself. But still, you throw away all this for some, failed angel who couldn't even be a demon right! I won't have it!"

The Metatron snaps his fingers, white light flooding the bookshop and Crowley cries out in alarm. The husbands grip each other tightly, refusing to let even the Metatron's power separate them.

My dream ends with Hastur's laughter, as the two wake up in Heaven, still clutching each other.

[echidnapower]

Now that Ash's series is over, how do you feel about the decision to write Misty out of the main cast at the end of Johto in 2002? As we know besides brief cameos and the last few eps of MPM, she really did stay off the show for 20 years, 6 series, and somewhere over 850+ or something episodes. Once Hoenn started and May was introduced, the writers likely decided sometime in 2003 they weren't going to bring misty back to the cast (her cameos with Togetic aired this year), and then that was basically it.

I always assumed the writers would have brought Misty back like how the Brock/Tracey switch was reversed after Orange, but I guess May became too popular it convinced the writers they had no reason to bring Misty back to the cast. So they slowly started phasing her out over AG as her cameos/specials started to dwindle, then by the time we got into 2005/2006 she got her final episode for over a decade. Then by the time DP started and they decided to bring Dawn in, that was basically it. They brought in a second new female companion for a second full gen, and Misty didn't get to appear in DP at all.

People tend to forget that long before the modern pokemon era (XY, SM, Journey's, etc), the writers seem to already decide back in the early 2000's from 2002-2010 during the Hoenn/DP era that they weren't going to bring Misty back full time. And as we know, they didn't. It's just kind of ironic to me when you stop to realize how long ago that was, 2002 was the beginning of the millenium, it over 22 years ago now, and Misty left at Gen 2 of the franchise whereas Ash's series went through Gen 8. She basically was only there for like 20% of Ash's series, and missed 80% of the anime.

Do you believe the writers were in the right to remove her? Since you write fanfics with Misty staying, did her departure shock you or did you think the anime couldn't go on without her? In the end I guess it doesn't matter now, but it says a lot so many original fans decided to continue to watch without her year after year.

Well as someone who considers Misty "best girl" I would never condone the decision to have Misty leave the group. What I will say though is that it was clear to me that the writers for the anime back in those early days had no idea what to do with Misty since her "goal" as it were was to become a water-Pokemon Master, but they never took any steps to have Misty actually try to BECOME that. She was playing a support role for Ash and that I feel like was an extreme disservice to her character.

What we did get though was an evolution of her personality over time, as she became less violent with her actions and started seeing Ash more as an equal rather than someone who needed her coaching to become a good trainer, and in that change, the ship started to solidify for me. There were plenty of "shippy moments" during Indigo, but the more Ash grew as a trainer the more it felt like there was room for their relationship to grow.

By the end of her tenure, it was clear to everyone (or me at least) that the very thought of leaving Ash to go take over the gym because of her irresponsible sisters was a source of emotional pain for her. In her mind, Ash wasn't just some brat that stole her bike, he had become her very best friend and (depending on how you choose to interpret it) she'd fallen in love with his passion and devotion to Pokémon, because that's what made him stand out from all the other trainers out there. The lengths he was willing to go to in order to make sure that his Pokémon became the best they could possibly be and the love that he showed them, it even trickled over to his human friends as well, which of course included her.

And even with all the other girls that came along after Misty's departure, you could tell that there was a special bond between her and Ash that was never replicated with anyone else. In my mind, Serena kissing Ash before she left isn't the most impactful scene in the anime, it's the fact that Ash shed tears over Misty leaving because he knew how much he was going to miss her. To my knowledge, aside from her and Brock, Ash didn't cry over anyone else's departure. It was always "until we meet again" and then off he went on his new journey. Even Serena didn't get a tear from Ash over saying goodbye. That honor falls only to Misty (and Brock).

All this being a long-winded explanation for what makes their relationship so special, I'll address the other part of the question. Do I think the writers were right to remove her? Of course not. I think they should have given Misty something to do rather than just stand there with Togepi and cheer Ash on, and in an anime where character growth coincided with aging (yes, aging as in getting older and more mature, something Pokémon is notoriously allergic to), eventually Misty would've had to be given something to do. Their solution I suppose was to give Misty a new goal, one that was separate from her travels with Ash. I don't like it, but I get it.

May and Dawn were the main characters for the next two generations of games and they were made into coordinators so that they wouldn't overlap with Ash's goals. Contests weren't available in B/W I don't think so having Ash travel with Hilda would've been redundant, so they gave Iris to Ash since she was the most...rambunctious character in those games, and Cilan took on the Brock role now that he was finally off pursuing his new path. Back to the old dynamic but it wasn't the same. Iris wasn't Misty, and neither was any of the other girls he went with, Serena included. That BOND just wasn't there. The closest one who got there IMO was Dawn, and ironically aside from Misty herself, I think Dawn got the most returns to the anime out of all the Pokegirls.

I started writing my story over a decade ago with the mindset of "fixing" the anime, by putting Misty back where she wanted to be all along, but now by aging them up a few years (which is what they should have been in the first place) I opened the door for Ash to actually see Misty as more than a friend, paying off all those little moments they'd previously shared where Misty caught his attention when they were traveling together and he saw her as more than just "Misty," she was also "girl" which bizarrely Ash understood better early on in the show and forgot later on somehow with any other male/female interactions. I made Ash and Misty finally get together, strengthening their bond even more as now the titles boyfriend and girlfriend make it so that Ash AND Misty get something out of the relationship. She hasn't done much in the way of training for herself, I'll admit, but the way I write her, Misty doesn't just stand there and support Ash, she's his go-to for companionship, a partner he can count on when the going gets tough, more than the others. She's put on a pedestal as someone special to him, which she already was but now the role is more defined. And Misty now gets to be a big sister to Dawn as their relationship has grown throughout my story. Dawn looks up to Misty now, seeing her as someone she also can turn to when she's struggling with something. Ash is her mentor with training, but in a world where human interactions are more than just "Let's battle," Dawn needs someone to help her navigate those turbulent waters, and that's big sister Misty.

I rambled for a long time and for that I apologize. The anime could and did go on without Misty, and other characters who took her place have their own roles and their own merits. I won't take that away from them. But Misty is special I believe because there's just that bond that is difficult to define in words between her and Ash. They can push each other to their limits unlike any other characters in the show can, and undoubtedly Ash sees her as his very best human friend aside from Brock. If the anime had allowed him to age and grow, there's no doubt in my mind that they would have gotten together anyway, because a bond like that can't be broken by distance. If anything, it would just inevitably bring them together again.

[in-death-we-fall]

The full monty on Slipknot’s pint-sized drum demon Joey Jordison

Kerrang #796 April 8 2000

“Oasis suck dick and we want to fight them…”

(google docs link)

What is your nickname and why?

“Superball. Because one time we played this terrible show and I was so angry that I was bouncing around the room. It had to be seen to be believed. Dude, I was so fucking mental I could have given Michael Jordan a run for his money.”

At school, were you a dunce or a teacher’s pet? “More of a pet, because there was this one teacher that I had a real crush on and I’d always drop my pencil to look up her skirt. I got decent grades, but I mostly hung out by my locker with my headphones on. I hung out with nobody – I was really introverted.”

What was your first shag like? “The girl was 14, I was 17. She was mental. I go over to her house and she starts throwing shit at me while cranking Madonna out of the stereo. She turns out the light and throws a rubber at me, which hits me on the forehead, and then she goes, ‘Now it’s time’. The thing is, she had a broken leg and I’m trying to get her pants off like a moron. I get in there, do three or four strokes, blow my load and say, ‘We shouldn’t be doing this’. I pull out, leave her standing there with her gimp leg, walk home with the condom on, clean it out with water, and let out the biggest scream of victory you’ve ever heard. It’s the best sex I’ve ever had. I fucked a charity case.”

Who’s your best friend? “My Mom. She’s always supported me from day one.”

What’s the best pet you’ve ever had? “I had a tom-cat that liked to fight dogs and he always came out a bloody mess: trails of blood through the house, tail ripped to shreds. I called him Not My Cat. He ruled. I used to dress him up, hang cigarettes from his mouth, crazy shit.”

Have you ever been arrested? “No, but next time I go to Australia I probably will be.”

What would you be if you weren’t a rock star? “I’d be trying to get as close to the stage as possible by being a drum tech or sound man.”

How would you describe yourself on a blind date form? “I’m cheap!”

What’s the most extravagant thing you’ve ever bought? “My car, but that wasn’t very expensive. It’s a 1990 two-door red Chevy Blazer.”

Who’s gagging for a shagging? “Fiona Apple. I’m completely and utterly obsessed with her. I met her once and she flirted with me. I don’t give a fuck what anyone says, she definitely flirted with me.”

Who’s gagging for a smacking? “Fiona Apple on her ass when I’m doggy-styling her.”

What’s the worst job you’ve ever had? “I’ve never really had one. I’m in one of the finest bands ever.”

When did you last call home? “We haven’t been on tour long, so I haven’t called home yet.”

What was your most embarrassing moment? “Once in grade school, we were watching a movie with the lights out and I puked all over my desk. I was so freaked out that I tried to scoop it all up in my arms. It ruled, though, because it caused a ‘vomitory’ – three or four other people puked.”

Who would you least like to see naked? “My tour manager Danny. It might turn him on.”

What’s the best rumour you’ve ever heard about yourself? “That it was me who got Rayna from Coal Chamber pregnant. It was all over the Internet at one point. I’ve never even met her.”

What’s in your wallet right now? “A credit card, Kiss plectrums from when I met them, keys to these handcuffs that I got for the chicks, and a rubber.”

What’s your favourite joke? “Oasis. Those guys suck dick and we want to fight them.”

If you were marooned on a desert island without food, which member of Slipknot would you choose to eat first? “Chris (Fehn, percussionist), because he eats the most.”

Which Slipknot song would you choose to donate to a compilation album called ‘Crap Songs Of Our Time’? “None of them. Zero.”

What’s your drug of choice? “I don’t do drugs. Caffeine, I guess.”

What does God look like? “He’s the guy with the beard and the white robe. Or he looks like Kiss.”

When you die, how would you like to go? “While slamming at the drum kit or doing Fiona Apple.”

Words: Ben Myers

[myfairkatiecat]

Every line of “anti-hero” Taylor Swift applies to at least one Hawthorne.

I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser

Midnights become my afternoons

Jameson, in every sense of these lyrics. He’s always up at night doing whatever he needs to do to not think about whatever it is he needs to avoid. He chases as much adrenaline as he needs to not feel terrible.

When my depression works the graveyard shift all of the people

I’ve ghosted stand there in the room

Grayson and Nash (Grayson bc he’s distant and Nash bc he’s avoidant)

I should not be left to my own devices

They come with prices and vices

I end up in crisis (tale as old as time)

Jameson, all the way. Also it’s possible that Xander feels this way, even though we all find his scheming quite endearing as he doesn’t seem as bent on self-destruction as Jameson

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I’ll watch as you’re leaving

Cause you got tired of my scheming (for the last time)

Grayson and Jameson bc Emily gave them issues

It’s me, hi, I’m the problem it’s me

At tea time everybody agrees

For Jameson this could be interpreted as him feeling like he’s seen as too “ordinary” by his grandfather compared to his brothers but also knowing full well the disapproval he gets for the things he does to NOT be ordinary.

For Grayson, it could mean that he knows he has to be better than all of his siblings bc everyone knows he’s inheriting it all one day (ha.) and feels like he never lives up to it.

For Nash this looks like being the one brother who was never as involved in their grandfathers games as his brothers and always was a little more distant for the family. While he WANTS to be distant, he probably feels very confronted every time he catches sight of his relatives, even if they aren’t thinking about it that way.

For Xander, this probably refers to how he’s the youngest and least serious of his brothers and probably felt inferior as a child despite the fact that he’s the smartest of all the Hawthorne brothers

I’ll stare directly at the sun but never in the mirror

It must be exhausting always rooting for the anti-hero

Hm which Hawthorne brother will do literally anything except confront themselves and their own actions? Which Hawthorne would stare directly at the sun, but never really look at themselves? EVERY SINGLE ONE. It looks different for all of them—for Nash, it’s pretending his last name isn’t Hawthorne; for Grayson, it’s burying himself in pressure and stress and work; for Jameson, it’s living 2000 miles an hour; for Xander, who actually probably has less issues with this (he seems introspective to me), it’s always creating other things that do things and never really noticing himself doing things. I could even get into talking about Skye and Zara here if I wanted.

Sometimes I feel like everybody is a sexy baby

And I’m a monster on the hill

To big to hang out slowly lurching towards your favorite city

Pierced through the heart but never killed

So, all four of them being extremely attractive means this can’t be taken the way it’s meant, but I imagine Nash probably has weird feelings about all his little siblings being around the same age and having all these shared experiences he is less familiar with.

Do you hear the covert narcissism disguised as altruism

Like some kind of congressman? (Tale as old as time)

Grayson, all the way. Especially after reading The Brothers Hawthorne. It’s part of what I love about his character. His internal monologue is “look at me being manipulative and asserting my power over everyone else” even when what he’s doing is perfectly fair (and sometimes when it absolutely isn’t). It’s almost like at some point, he was raised to take over his father’s business of being a billionaire who plays dirty and never learned any other way to be, and kind of hates that about himself.

I wake up screaming from dreaming

One day I’ll watch as you’re leaving

And life will lose all it’s meaning (for the last time)

Still Grayson and Jameson and still bc they have Emily Issues, but this version of the lyrics is how they would feel about losing Avery. Not, “she left bc she got tired of me” but “she’s gone and now everything is back to how it was when nothing meant anything”

(Chorus is the same)

I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money

She thinks I left them in the will

The family gathers round and reads it and then someone screams out

“She’s laughing up at us from hell”

I actually forgot this verse existed when I started making this post. But. This verse belongs to Tobias Hawthorne I. Duh. I guess this fits even better than I thought it did 😂 this is LITERALLY the plot of The Inheritance Games

I rest my case, “Anti-Hero” is the Hawthorne family anthem. Someone get all these boys therapy and happy endings 😭

[gracexthoughts]

of violent delights chap 17

cigarette with your coffee?

8 June 1996

Mattheo’s POV

The first thing I’m aware of is warmth next to me and I blink my eyes open slowly, opening to one of the best views in the world. Euphemia Potter lays next to me in a room decorated in scarlet and gold, sprawled out on her stomach, her hair fanned out on the pillow. The blanket has fallen down slightly, exposing the smooth skin of her lower back and my hands itch to reach for her. I sigh, laying back on the pillows and watch her in the hazy early morning light streaming in through the windows as I process everything.

Mia’s room is set up much the same as mine, a double four poster bed, a small loveseat, fireplace, desk and ensuite bathroom. The difference however, besides the house colors, is her room is filled with pictures and memorabilia from her life and time at Hogwarts. Pictures move all across the mantle and desk and night stands, pictures of her and Harry, the Twins, the Quidditch team, and two people who look just like Mia and Harry but older, her parents I assume, dance and laugh from the picture frame on her nightstand. She has books and papers stacked on her couch, a muggle turntable on her desk, her Nimbus 2000 leaning against the wall beside me, her trunk open and filled with clothes, and various other nicknacks and possessions scattered across the room. Even half packed up for the summer, her room feels lived in; whereas mine feels livable. It’s so wholly her; inviting and warm and loving. 

I’m a stupid, stupid man because now that I’ve gotten a taste I’m addicted. I will never be able to be rid of this woman; will never be able to close my eyes without seeing her face, or fall asleep without wishing she was by my side. I glance down at my watch, which I apparently neglected to remove in our hast last night, and sigh regretfully. I need to get back to my dorm, to pack and to avoid being seen leaving the Gryffindor Common Room unless I want rumors to spread like wildfire. While I am by no means finished with Mia, I don’t necessarily want the whole school to know. I still have to spend most of my summer with Ella and Draco and I don’t particularly want to hear either of their opinions. 

Carefully, I remove myself from under her arm and climb out of the double bed. As silently as I can, I pull my clothes from the night before back on, retrieving them from their various locations across the floor. I watch her for a moment, sleeping soundly, peaceful and graceful and beautiful and my heart aches for her, calls to her as if begging to stay and never leave her side again. I want to leave her something, something so she knows I’m not just abandoning her after one night. I look around for a quill and some ink to write a note but she must have packed them up already and I let out a frustrated sigh. 

But then I notice a coffee cup on her desk. I grab it, and with my wand, summon coffee to fill the cup the way I know she loves. Once the cup is full, I gently set it down on her nightstand and pull a cigarette from my pack, resting it to lean against the handle. I owe you a cigarette,  I can hear her saying to me all those months ago on the Astronomy Tower. I lean over her figure, and press a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I owe you a cigarette, princess,” I whisper before I straighten up and back out of the dorm room and into the empty Gryffindor Common Room before I step back out into the halls and begin my walk back to my own room. 

Euphemia’s POV 

I wake to light streaming in from the window and the smell of coffee. I reach up to rub my eyes, opening them to an empty bed. The blanket is thrown back on one side and I sit up, hugging the sheet close to my body as I look around, hoping to see Mattheo but he’s nowhere. The bed is empty, the couch as I left it and the bathroom vacant. I sigh heavily and fall back against the pillows. Mattheo Riddle only ever does one night, I know that. 

Out of the corner of my eye, steam catches my eye. A cup of coffee sits on my nightstand next to the picture of my parents, and a cigarette leans against the handle. I sit up and chuckle, twisting the cigarette between my fingers. I recognize the brand as what Mattheo always smokes and I smile, taking a sip of the coffee and I sit back, more confused now then when I thought he just left. My mind replays the night before, everything from kissing him on the dock to stumbling through the halls to get back to my dorm, to practically ripping the clothes off each other, to falling asleep in his arms, feeling more safe and at home than I ever thought possible. 

✦

I step off the Hogwarts Express onto platform 9 ¾, the hidden station filled with parents and guardians all waiting to greet their children. I see Mrs. Weasley waving ecstatically to the Twins in front of me and I follow them to her, figuring Harry will follow Ron here as well. “Fred! What on earth happened to you?” Mrs. Weasley cries, grabbing her son’s face to inspect his black eye from last night. 

“Nothing, Ma, I’m fine,” Fred grumbles, pulling his face out of her grasp. 

“Just a prank from Zonko’s, mum. Nothing to worry about,” George supplies for his twin, who has been in a foul mood all morning, and leans down to hug his much shorter mother. 

“Oh, you two will be the death of me, I swear,” Mrs. Weasley chuckles and turns to me. “Euphemia, darling. How are you? Staying safe?” 

“Yes, ma’am. I am,” I nod, letting her pull me into a tight hug. 

“I hear you’ve taken custody of Harry. Are you sure you’re up to it? You two can always come to ours.” 

“I think so, yes. We have an apartment in London near Diagon Alley. Fred and George have the address for you.” 

“Well, come over whenever and if you need anything don’t hesitate.” She says, cupping my face with her hands and I nod, promising I will as Harry, Ginny and Ron, along with a small and very excited owl, appear at our sides. As Mrs. Weasley greets them, my eyes wander around the platform and land on Mattheo talking with a woman with white hair pulled into a tight bun. She must be Mrs. Riddle, I assume and watch for a moment, wanting to go say hi but I’m sure Mrs. Riddle would not appreciate my presence in her son’s life. Before I look away, Mattheo’s eyes find mine and he smiles. “Bye, princess,” he mouths to me with a wink and I smile back before my attention is pulled away but Mrs. Weasley. We chat for a few minutes with the Weasleys but eventually, Harry and I move along towards the exit. 

“Mia! Look, it’s from Sirius,” Harry says excitedly, waving a piece of parchment in front of me and I take it from him with a laugh and we pause near the exit so I can read it. 

Dear Harry, 

Buckbeak and I are in hiding. I won’t tell you where, in case this owl falls into the wrong hands. I have some doubt about his reliability, but he is the best I could find, and he did seem eager for the job. I believe the dementors are still searching for me, but they haven’t a hope of finding me here. I am planning to allow some Muggles to glimpse me soon, a long way from Hogwarts, so that the security on the castle will be lifted. There is something I never got around to telling you during our brief meeting. It was I who sent you the Firebolt. Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office for me. I used your name but told them to take the gold from my own Gringotts vault. Please consider it as thirteen birthdays’ worth of presents from your Godfather.  If ever you need me, send word. Your owl will find me.

I’ll write again soon.

Sirius

P.S. I thought your friend Ron might like to keep this owl, as it’s my fault he no longer has a rat.

“That’s great, Haz. I’m glad they’re safe,” I smile, handing the letter back to him. “Is that why Ron suddenly has that crazy little owl?” Harry nods. 

“Also, Ron said the Quidditch World Cup is this summer, we have to go!” He is practically jumping with excitement and I laugh because I’ve never seen my brother so excited for a summer holiday. 

“Yeah, alright, I’ll see what we can do. Ready to go home?” I ask as we near the platform entrance. 

“Yeah, let’s go,” he nods with a smile and together we run through the magic brick wall and back into the muggle world for the first summer in fifteen years where we are totally happy, free, and safe.

a/n; omg okay so what do you guys think? Any theories or predictions you feel like sharing? Honestly thank you guys so so so much for reading. I’ve decided I’m going to split this up into a few parts so this is the end of part 1 and part 2, chap 18 should be up soon. Love you all sm for reading and i hope you enjoy <3

(also pls let me know if you want to see actual sex scenes in the future or if you prefer this kind of closed door before/after approach, I’m willing to do either so I’d love to hear what you guys would prefer!)

taglist; @purplegardenwhispers @somethingswiftandstyles @weasleyreidstyles @mayamonroem @girlbooklover555 @stxrszurzolo @abaker74

[accio-victuuri]

Part II of the article made by OnO’s styling director!

Designing E-mark’s clothes

Exclamation Mark Dance Company's scenes are basically group performances. They are professional dancers, but not professional actors, so when it comes to clothing styling, we must first consider their comfort when performing movements, and secondly, retain everyone's usual dressing habits, so that they will have a certain sense of comfort in the shooting environment. A sense of security, without having to think about playing an unfamiliar role while performing actions.

After Chen Shuo was added to exclamation mark, when filming the montage of everyone practicing dance, we would arrange the costumes that everyone would wear in advance for each scene, and then adjust the colors to try to make the overall feeling presented in the picture youthful and colorful. The background color of the dance club is red and blue, so the costumes of each team member will avoid the scene color to avoid being blended into the background.

There are three important stage formats in the movie: Zhejiang Street Dance Competition , Dance Performance , and National Street Dance Competition . The styling of the hip-hop competition is somewhat difficult. It must be both professional and visual, and it must not have too strong a sense of variety show or stage. It must gradually form a certain unity and integrity to match The unfolding of the plot.

From the unified theme of the first battle to retaining the individual styles of the Exclamation Mark members, to the upgrade of the matching texture based on the same color system in the second battle, to the ultimate expression of the unity of the unity of clothing colors and styles in the third battle, these costumes The changes also indicate that Exclamation Point has transformed from an old dance company that is about to fall apart into a challenger full of team spirit and starting again.

​The following is an analysis of the changes and designs in the exclamation point costumes for the three stages.

The first street dance competition in Zhejiang

This is the first appearance of the exclamation mark, and it is also the first scene of the movie "Hot". This is a crew battle competition, and the color inspiration of the exclamation mark clothing is extracted from the team logo color matching of the exclamation mark. In 2000, the overall style of hip-hop costumes was hip-hop style, with wide silhouettes popular. The fabrics used in our costumes were also sporty. Some adjustments were made to the styles based on the convenience of each member's dance movements. The added design details are in line with the style of each member of the exclamation mark.

There are no clothing regulations for the crew battle itself. Everyone will choose a style that suits their own style, and they will also have some thematic matching based on the team's dance choreography style, striving for a more relaxed and exciting performance on the stage. This match with the exclamation mark having a complete 1v1 shot was Dancing Machine. The styling team proposed several sets of design plans, and the director finally selected two sets as the costumes for the main team duel. Although the other 14 teams did not have many scenes in the film, they all had a complete matching system. In addition to the two main dance groups, other dance groups prepared a total of 18 sets of costumes for this competition, and 14 sets were selected to appear. A total of About 160 sets.

The Zhejiang Street Dance Competition was filmed for a total of 8 days. Before the filming started, the dressing room was brightly lit. In addition to the makeup of the main actors, there were also judges, special actors, and nearly 150 people from 15 dance troupes who tried to set the makeup. During that time, the costume team achieved an average weight loss per person. small goals.

The second dance competition

This is Chen Shuo's first time standing on a formal stage, and also his first collaboration with the Exclamation Point Dance Company. The preliminary conception of costumes mainly considers two aspects: on the one hand, in the confined stage space, the determination of the clothing color system based on the ambient lighting; One game has been improved, but it feels different from the stage costume of the ultimate game-it has not yet reached the level of group soul cohesion. Among many design schemes, the director chose a group of designs with gray and purple as the main color. This group of clothing did not use custom-made production methods, but was completed by purchasing ready-made clothing for matching. In terms of other details, compared with the previous scene, the accessories and makeup of the exclamation mark members have been enhanced.

The music of this dance is "Gone Days". The choreography incorporates a variety of dance elements, with the style of old school, using locking, popping, waacking, and krump in series, and the final point is breaking. This performance showcases what makes Exclamation Point Dance Company special - a team of multi-genre dancers. Chen Shuo entered a self-realm in this stage performance, and found a way to face the real stage. From confusion, nervousness to fear, to explosion, and finally to the process of integration, the overall atmosphere of the purple costumes is very consistent. The mood this performance wants to express.

Gray is like a concrete floor, and purple is a dream. Through this stage experience, Chen Shuo completed the mentality change from an audience watching the game to a real dancer.

The third national street dance competition

The National Street Dance Competition is the largest, most formal, and most important competition among the three stages. The exclamation mark needs to be reborn in this competition. Red represents challenge and enthusiasm, and white represents purity, which can best express the determination of the exclamation mark . From the aspects of stage design and lighting, the visual effect will be more expressive if the colors are relatively uniform on the stage. This time the costumes focus on integrity, using lightweight outdoor functional fabrics, which makes the wearing experience lighter and more convenient, and facilitates actors to better complete difficult dance moves. Removing redundant styling to amplify the competitive feeling also heralds the return of the exclamation point to the original intention of the game.

The members of Exclamation Mark’s rival super K dance group are the championship group invited by Kevin. The black and gold color scheme looks more oppressive, crushing Exclamation Mark in terms of overall momentum. In the color matching of clothing based on black gold, Kevin's hair color changed from light to dark in this game, making the characters' styling more unified.

Stages are built on all sides of the stadium, and there is a certain distance between the stage and the auditorium. The closest to the camera are the participating dance troupes. During the dance troupe battle, their colors cannot overlap, and their clothing styles cannot be repeated. In addition to the exclamation point Super K, there are 30 teams outside the stage in the competition, including: 8 fine dance groups, 6 opera dance groups, and 16 mass dance groups, with a total of more than 300 people and a total of 440 sets of dance costumes prepared.

In this game, the uniforms of the exclamation mark players are red and white, and coach Ding’s blue jacket still fits the color matching of the exclamation mark team logo. Before the battle, Kevin provoked Ding Lei in the media and asked him to remember to wear diapers when he came to participate in the game. We chose Ding Lei to wear a T-shirt with a yellow horizontal smiley face on it. The somewhat joking attitude was actually a kind of Reply to Kevin.

postscript:

The first time I really saw the finished film of "One and Only" was at the opening screening of the Shanghai Film Festival. That day, we rushed from the main venue to the post-screening meeting together with the director, Sister Xi, Brother Bo, Yibo, Su Biao, and other main creative personnel. When we arrived at the theater, the film had already played the part of the national competition, and Caihua and I slipped in and sat on the steps to watch.

From the time Chen Shuo danced every exclamation point player's signature move to Ding Lei's appearance on stage, to the final victory, and then the sound of "Worth It", in these short 20 minutes, I had already burst into tears and cried like a dog... I was happy because of the final victory, I felt a little envious of Chen Shuo for a moment. The outcome of this battle is unknown, but he still puts the people who light up his life in an important position. Success may be more important, but people who love and care for you are rare. Shuoshuo deserves everyone's love, and Ding Lei deserves this ending. I will always be struck by those simple but sincere emotions.

Backstage, the director saw me crying so badly, he came over and joked, "Did you think it was too difficult to shoot?" The feeling of surprise, strangeness, and love when I saw "One and Only" is real. The scene where Chen Shuo fights with Kevin on the stage with everyone's trust, I will still burst into tears after watching it a hundred times.

In the story, Ding Lei, Chen Shuo, and Exclamation Mark went through a lot, and finally stood on the stage and won the victory; in reality, it took us 8 months from preparation to filming, and now the work can be released to meet the audience who like them, in two parallel time and space Fortunately, we have been witnessing each other along the way. They and us who have always loved each other will eventually wear light.

Finally, I need to thank the team that has always supported and accompanied me. No matter how difficult the work is, their unconditional trust is my confidence. A friend of mine saw "One and Only" and thought he was the runaway Zhang Cuibiao. My younger brother watched the movie and remembered the scenes of his mother's hard work opening a restaurant... "One and Only" is a movie, but it is not just a movie; The shadow that life casts on everyone.

Maybe no one will tell us: "It's okay not to do it." But it's okay to stick to one thing in this life - the things we love.