#i need like a gaggle of friends with me to tell what to say lol

[moralesmilesanhour]

Hello!!! How are you? I’ve been a follower for the past few days and was wondering if I could request something.

I was hoping to request a fic or like give you a prompt for something for miles42 × femreader

So it goes like this- yk those super corny reads that are like the reader's pinning for miles and like sometimes miles finds them annoying but in a cute way but he don't know that her yk? So he's talking to his homeboys about her, talm about some how she's so "annoying, a nuisance" and guess who's behind the wall listening? The reader herself.

So this goes one of two ways- she either matches up there, confronts him. And she's like "flipping fine, if that's how you feel then lemme get out of ur way- you won't hear a peep from me" and she like just ignores him and he learns how he feels about her, sees how his life is so boring without her and all that- goes to apologize happy ending..

Option number 2: silent treatment. Like just slowly drifting away until he once again comes to the realization that he needs her and all that happy ending yay!

Feel free to do whatever you want with this but I'm thinking of sending the same request to other authors to see what they come up with cause everyone has a style k? And i just love studying them and reading them cause evervtime- no matter how similar the prompt is- they always manage to invoke different feelings with in me.

Anyway- have fun doing this- but remember you don't have to cause this is kinda too much and I'm sorry😓

"I want my pen back."

wc: >1,200 A/N: okay so i got a bit carried away...this is a long one. (yes I am using this as an excuse to try out the gradient thing) thank you anon for this fun request! i also rlly like ur reasoning behind it and i hope i was able to do this prompt some type of justice lol

The gel pen clattered to the ground.

“I got it,” you said, grinning at Miles. You squat to grab it before the boy can act to get it himself, and he sighs as you hand it to him.

“Thanks.”

Miles turned the pen every which way between his fingers.

You had gifted it to him on the first day of school, with that same expectant grin. The little cartoon dogs that surrounded the perimeter had begun to fade with use because – admittedly – it had actually turned out to be a good ass pen.

He’d thought initially that you were just being nice; maybe you were handing shit out to everyone because it was the first day, understandable. 

But then, it was highlighters (the erasable ones).

Pink sticky-notes on his locker, telling him to have a nice day with the ‘i’s dotted with hearts.

A new sketchbook for Secret Santa.

Miles’ pencil case had rapidly gotten bulkier, and when you rushed to grab a seat next to him during the one class without assigned seats, it finally clicked.

You were trying to get his attention. And he wasn’t sure what would happen if you got it.

“I like the new braids.”

He was snapped out of his thoughts, and turned to you.

“Huh?”

“The braids,” you laughed. “I like the pattern. Who did ‘em for you?”

A tiny smirk ghosted the boy’s lips.

“My mom. Just like the last time you asked me.”

He ran a hand instinctively over the meandering zig-zag pattern that his cornrows had been sectioned into. Miles looked at you from his periphery; you were still staring. 

“Bitch, just ask him out already!”

Your friend smacked the back of your shoulder as the two of you took your sweet time getting back to your lockers.

“Alright, today, I swear,” you said, hand over your heart for emphasis.

A beat of silence passes. “But what if he says no?” 

She groaned.

“Then he says no, and you can save your money. But say something, it’s getting embarrassing.”

Your friends’ encouragement landed you here, around the corner of a building where Miles and a gaggle of other boys from your homeroom were bursting into raucous laughter.

“Yo, why you ain’t bag her yet? She wants you bad,” one boy said.

Unsure if the ‘she’ in question was you, you stay where you are and keep listening.

“I dunno, she kinda annoying,”

Miles’ low voice makes your ears perk up.

“One day she gon’ run outta things to say about my hair, she has to!”

…Oh.

The buoyant feeling in your chest sinks as the group erupts into another laughing fit. If you asked him out now, you’d hear about it for the rest of the year.

Shoving your phone into your pocket, you turn back the way you came. 

Miles knew something was off when you sat down the next morning without a word. 

“You good?” he asked.

You glanced at him, then nodded before going back to playing with the beads in your hair. The excruciating silence stretched on for almost the entirety of class before it was broken again.

“Do you…wanna help me with my homework? I’ll really let you, this time.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Morales, you got an ‘A’ in every class.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Your name’s on every bulletin board.”

“Damn,” the boy muttered to himself as his leg bounced under the desk.

Your beads clattered against your back as you rose from your seat. The bell had rung, finally. You didn’t even say ‘bye’.

Miles cracked open his locker. One of your sticky notes from last week had begun to un-stick and fluttered to the ground. There were no new ones. He bent to pick it up, noticing how neat and round your handwriting was on these compared to the way you wrote in class. The letters didn’t run together, like you were in a rush.

Neatly folding the note and sticking it in his pocket, Miles shut his locker to reveal your face. The boy nearly yelped in surprise.

“Where the hell did you come from? Scared the shit outta me,” he said with a grin.

“I want my pen back.”

Miles froze. 

“Which pen?”

You tilted your chin up towards the one he was currently gripping in his left hand. He looked down at it like a wad of cash.

“Oh.”

He couldn’t just not give the pen back to you…

…but he didn’t want to give it to you, either.

“What you need it for? Don’t you have, like, a whole store full of these?”

“Miles, I gotta get to class. I’m not playing,” you reached for Miles’ hand, but he raised it high above his head.

Instead of a smirk or mocking sneer, something like worry was etched onto the boy’s features. 

“Tell me what’s up witchu first.”

“What are you talking about? I’m about to be late, c’mon.”

“You ain’t said a word to me all day,” he dropped his hand momentarily. “Are you sick? Did I do something? What–hey!”

You had snatched the pen out of the boy’s hand when he wasn’t looking, throwing it into your bag.

“I thought that’s what you wanted.”

You turn to retreat down the hallway, but stop with a huff when Miles calls after you.

“Wait!”

“I’m waiting.”

“Come see me after school?”

You kicked an empty can down the sidewalk in front of Miles’ apartment.

“Make this quick, I gotta go study.”

He looks everywhere else to avoid meeting your eyes, looking for the right words.

“You didn’t answer me earlier,” Miles awkwardly shuffled his feet. “Are you mad at me?”

“...Yeah, kinda.”

“For what?”

You stop to think for a moment, crossing your arms. 

“For…for letting me hand you that pen, knowing you weren’t gonna give it back,” you began.

Miles’ brows furrowed in confusion. “That’s it?”

You shook your head profusely, “N-no, I’m not done. You let me buy you all that stuff, put all that dumb shit in your locker, whole time you don’t even like me–”

“You don’t know that,” Miles interrupted. Your head snapped up to look at him, and you paused.

“I don’t?”

Neither of you say anything for a moment, then Miles remembers the note in his pocket. He takes it out and shows it to you.

“These? Are cute as fuck,”

He searches for more words, ten continues, "A-and I use that sketchbook every day. That pen? It’s like, my favorite,” he laughs. “I got half a mind to steal it back from you.”

Miles watches you expectantly. Your arms are still crossed, but the corners of your lips quirk up in amusement.

“So you like getting free stuff.”

“No-! I…”

The boy’s arms had begun to flail around in frustration. You hold back a giggle, never having seen him squirm like this before. It’s a nice change of pace.

“Alright, listen. I like hearing you talk to me every morning, and…”

He trailed off. He had begun slightly bouncing on his toes.

“...I like you.”

At some point while watching Miles struggle to explain himself, the float-y feeling in your chest had come back. You tilted your head to the side, and smiled.

“Okay. What are you gonna do about it?”

The boy’s eyes lit up.

“Where do you wanna go?”

[hotgirlshart]

it’s 11:11 do time to reflect on this retreat! or it was when i started this post lol now it’s been like 4 days and ive remembered this.

so wow. this retreat is like 24 hrs 3 pm to 3 pm type shit and wow. i’m sitting in my besties room because it’s so scary and i will die if i have to sleep the night alone! i’ve i thought i could tough it out but it’s scary and ive cried so much today!

me and @enashinonome are doing the retreat together!! she made a crazy insane speech that almost brought me to tears! then it just all spiraled from there and i was soon sobbing so hard that i couldn’t walk for like an hour! i literally love aya so much!! yall have no idea what she’s like irl it’s insane! we did this thing were everyone walked around giving people hearts and telling the receiver they love them and why even if you barely know the person and i loved it. some people chose to highkey be manipulative about it and go “i miss you we haven’t talked since sophomore year let’s talk again” to everyone whose been avoiding her because she’s the most two faced person ive ever met and said that to a good friend that she slutshamed and seriously hurt multiple times and had previously moved on!!! that was insane!!! literally everyone had moved on and forgotten but oh! you chose to do this while everyone was so emotionally fragile and at the very end of the group crying session!

but otherwise, the night was fire. everyone came over and chatted in me and besties room. then we watched like 15 min of la la land and passed out at like 1:15/30. he snores. my back hurt so bad when i woke up bc the bed was like a single? whatever smaller than a twin is. fire rooms though each got their own bathroom.

second day was less fire because the group i got assigned was lame!! i have such a weird mental relationship with this girl and they just had to put me with her. i fear i could never say anything emotional around her. plus the first day my group was like so peak. everyone sobbed their eyes out together and now we are like permanently bonded. we had a lot of “go touch grass and get outside” time which i love because i love being in the sun. i’m naturally freezing so whenever i can be in the sun i will.

getting back to school was lame. watched more of la la land with bestie on the bus. but then we landed and it was like damn. i have to be a part of the real world again. i’m not in my little fairy land of community. and first thing i saw was a widely hated (for good reasons) junior sitting with an gaggle of freshmen which was… also the crushing realization that tech was starting the next day and i needed to be at school at 10 on a saturday. and then 9 on a sunday. i showed up an hour late both times. first time because during the retreat a like rubber band in my braces broke and ripped a giant cut in my mouth and i was going insane and needed to go to the orthodontist.

tldr: i hate people i love people - tana mongeau but i do seriously feel so much more connected to everyone i was on the retreat with and it was a really amazing experience and im so excited for the senior year retreat (it’s a week long vs 24 hrs). i fear im more inclined to just walk up to people and talk about how much i love them now. it was a really ethel cain type place though like this girl got some photos that look exactly like inbred and golden age type shit.

[max--666]

wooo got tinder again (i deleted it the first time lol) and got 5 matches already!! i mean, ok some of those r def jus gonna be from ppl who swipe right no matter what lol but still :^)

[fangurk]

She’s Always There (Paul Lahote x Reader)

Key:

Y/n: Your Name

Y/l/n: Your Last Name

Y/n/n: Your Nickname

Y/e/c: Your Eye Color

Y/h/c: Your Hair Color

Prompt Given To Me By @ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhghhhh.tumblr.com: hey!! so the reason I'm messaging is because I wanted to request something but can't fit it all into an ask lmao. anyways could i please request a Paul Lahote x reader where the reader has been super close to the whole pack for years and has been Paul's imprint but doesn't know it (bc Sam thought it would be best to keep u away from it all) and they decide to finally tell you about being shapeshifters and being Paul's imprint and you're so mad about them not telling u earlier and there's a huge argument and they and Paul tries to calm you down but you say stuff like 'leave me alone' and things like that and it sounds like you're rejecting him/the bond in ur angry breakdown. anyways Paul is heartbroken and can't get out of bed or eat or anything so the guys finally convince you to come back bc they and Paul need you and it's just the reader cuddling with him and getting him out of bed to take a shower and eat and he realizes that you're not going anywhere and it's just like healing the imprint bond? sorry for this WALL of text, I've just had this idea stuck in my head for a while lol. if you don't want to do it, that's completely fine!! thank you for your time ♡

ok so my guy,, bc this fic has been stuck in my head for a bit, some scenes have developed? so idk i hope this isn't too much, but if u do write it, would u be willing to add like some angst to it, obvi, and maybe a scene/part lol where when the reader tries to get him to shower (bc the misinterpreted rejection made him like super depressed and he just felt low about himself) he won't shower, because he doesn't want to come out and the reader is gone. so either they shower together (not smutty just angst&fluff) or she sits like in the bathroom while he showers LOL. and when he feels a bit better, they go down to eat and he's touching some part of her at all times. if this is too much to like,, include then that's a-okay. i just need to get this OUT of my MIND ugh lmao!/!

Reader Gender: Female

Summary: The Reader has been friends with most of the pack members for her whole life. Which is why, after months of silence and strange changes, she was willing to let them back into her life— until she finds out she’s been told lies that leave her in danger, of course. After a big freak out and two weeks of avoiding them, the boys come begging for her help; it turns out that Paul has some wolf-y claim on her, and whatever she said to him has left him worse for wear...

Warnings: Mentions of Depression, Nudity, Angst, and Cursing.

A/n: this is literally like a whole novel I’m so sorry I got carried away. this is kinda based on a lot of fics I read where the imprint has the potential to really hurt people and I named Paul’s dad.

Word Count: 2.9k+

“The legends are real!?”

Y/n Y/l/n hasn’t ever been so disturbed in her entire life.

After weeks of radio silence, Sam Uley’s little ‘gang’, mostly consisting of people she’d known since childhood, had slowly trickled back into her life. What started as a grocery run with Paul or a movie with Jared had turned into big bonfire parties including Jacob Black and his gaggle.

But that was months ago. Months. And now, as she sits by a fire, surrounded on either side by them, they decide to tell her their little secret?

“Y/n.” Sam says as she abruptly stands, eyes stern and hand raised placatingly.

His actions only served to upset her more and her skin bristles with irritation. Sam was acting as if she, a human surrounded by shape shifters, was the unstable one. As if she could do any damage to things built to kill vampires.

“Don’t you dare, Sam.” She clenches her fists, glaring right back at him. “It’s been months- months- and you’re telling me now?”

“It’s not exactly an easy thing to bring up.” He reasons, voice a little less demanding. “We all wanted to be sure that you were ready to know.”

“Ready?!” Y/n laughs mirthlessly, y/e/c eyes wide with disbelief, “When was I supposed to be ready Sam? W-when one of you gored me? When a cold one ripped me apart?”

Her hands shake as she puts them on her forehead, blinking back tears. Growing up all she’d ever heard were stories of humans getting dragged into fights between wolf and vampire, and she couldn’t bring herself to look Emily in the eye because it was suddenly apparent that wolves alone could hurt people too.

It was so bad, whatever happened to Emily, that they said a bear mauled her— Y/n didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“It’s not like that, Y/n/n.” Embry chimes in, reaching out to grab his friend's arm.

She yanks her body out of the way and gathers her belongings quickly.

“What is it like then, Call?” She holds her bag to her heaving chest, “because it seems to me that you all have the ability to turn into giant, slobbery freaks that are built for killing vampires and, after completely dropping me for weeks, you decided to keep it secret from me for months. Did it even occur to you that I would’ve been better off knowing right off the bat?!”

No one says anything. Eight shifters and two of their girlfriends sit there, just staring at her like she was speaking a different language.

“You know,” Y/n has to clear her throat to steady her wavering voice, “had you guys really been souped-up on drugs like everyone says, maybe I could’ve handled the lying. But my life was clearly potentially in danger, and you let me hang around without saying anything. I- God I don’t want to see you people right now.”

She leaves with that, stepping over logs and storming back down the beach with determination. Faintly over the roar of her heartbeat, she can hear someone scrambling to stand behind her.

“Wait!— shit, sorry-” Paul grunts, jogging to catch up with her- “Y/n-“

With an unusual gentleness, his warm hand wrapped around her forearm. For a moment, deep in the back of her mind, a foreign feeling tells her to stop, to listen; but that small voice is quickly smothered by the rational part of her brain, and she wrenches her arm from his grip.

“Don’t touch me!” She snaps, lowering her voice, “Leave me alone- I need to be alone.”

Paul stands there, dumbstruck, an unreadable look in his eyes as she walks away. And he’d continue to stand there, looking like a kicked puppy long after her retreating form became a blur amongst the darkness of the beach.

“Paul?” Sam is hesitant, hand hovering over the younger boy’s shoulder a minute before he touches him, “You okay?”

Shrugging his leader’s arm off his shoulder, Paul sighs. “No...I...I’m just gonna head home.”

Instead of going in the directions of the cars, the wolf stalks off toward the woods; Emily stands from her seat, wrapping her sweater more around herself as she watches Paul leave. Concern is written all over her features.

“He’ll be fine, Em,” He pulls her in for a hug, “it’ll all work out eventually.”

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Y/n does a good job of avoiding them for a while.

She turns her phone off a few days in and avoids going to First Beach, even when Washington gets a rare, warm summer feel. Books that have sat long forgotten on her shelves get read and TV shows she’s always meant to catch up on get watched; it’s boring and she runs out of options, at one point thinking of dying her hair y/f/c just to spice things up, but it allows her to think. (Or at least it allows this strange little voice in the back of her head to tell her that she needs to go back to them.)

The next time she sees any of the boys is exactly two weeks after the bonfire incident.

She’s curled up on her couch, picking at some of the Clearwaters’ fish fry and barely watching an episode of ANTM, when a fist comes banging down on her door. Turning off the TV, she tiptoes to the window, peeking under the curtain as carefully as she can.

As she expected, Jared Cameron and Embry Call are on her porch, the former standing in front of her door with his hip cocked, the other rooting around in her mother’s plants for something. Cringing, she hopes if she’s quiet enough that they’ll just go away.

Her front door opens within minutes, however, and she realizes her hoping is fruitless.

Should’ve known you can’t hide from wolves, she can’t help but think bitterly.

“Y/n?” Jared calls out through the house, “we know you’re here.”

“Yeah, and you guys should probably move your spare key,” Embry tacks on, flicking the light switch to the living room up, “I've known you forever and it’s still in the same place.”

From her spot by the window, the y/h/c haired girl glares at the two boys, arms crossed over her chest. Embry gives her a lopsided grin and holds the key out to her, his bud plopping down on the couch and pulling her abandoned plate into his lap.

Y/n extends a hand to take the key.

“Has it really been in the same place?” She sounds a little more defeated than she’d like.

“Yeah, it’s always been in your mother’s cornflower pot.”

“That’s...kinda sad.” She wrinkles her nose, pocketing the key with the intention to hide it better later, “but uh, I’ve been ignoring you for two weeks for a reason. Peacefully breaking into my house kinda furthers my need for space.”

Embry scratches the back of his neck.

“Well,” He says, “we need you to come back, man. Paul won’t talk to anyone- Sam doesn’t know if he’s eating, and he won’t even get out of bed for patrol! He needs his imprint-”

“His what?” She cocks her head to the side and Jared snorts from the couch.

“She left before we got there, nimrod,” Jared mocks through a mouthful of food, “she doesn’t know what an imprint is.”

He lets out an indignant “Hey!” as Y/n walks by, snatching her plate back from him on her way to the kitchen. Embry chases after her, a grumpy Jared jumping up from the couch to follow.

“You’re his imprint— you’re basically his soulmate!”

“Really?” She says warily, sealing the fish and putting it back in the fridge.

Both boys nod clumsily.

“You remember a few weeks ago when you saw each other for the first time again and he kinda just stood there like an idiot while you talked?”

“Yeah? Oh!-” She brings her hands up to her mouth, brows furrowed as she recalls.

It was exactly Jared had said. She and Paul had seen one another for the first time in a long time and the minute her y/e/c eyes looked into his, it was like he’d been struck dumb.

Embry gives her an encouraging look, “An imprint is...It's not like love at first sight, really. It's more like… gravity moves… suddenly. It's not the earth holding you here anymore, she does… You become whatever she needs you to be, whether that's a protector, or a lover, or a friend. When you snapped at him last week he thought you were rejecting him….”

A part of her thought about how absurd it was that he knew that whole speech. But the bigger part of her came to a realization that made her stomach churn.

“So he's all depressed… because… of me?” She whispers, leaning back on the counter.

Embry, always a rather sympathetic person, opens his mouth to comfort her, but Jared cuts him off.

“Basically. So are you going to come with us so we can help Paul or are you going to continue being petty?”

In any other circumstance, Y/n probably would’ve thrown something at her for calling her petty. She felt she was completely justified in her actions. A part of her wonders if she can really believe them— they’d spent months lying to her after all. But a larger part thinks about Paul, curled up in his bed, slowly desecrating because he thinks she rejected him.

If it were really all some ploy to get her to listen to them, then she’d at least be the person who chose the well-being of her friend over a petty disagreement.

“I’m coming.” She affirms, pushing herself off the counter, and letting the boys lead her to the car.

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ

Jared and Embry drop her off in front of the Lahote household. They tell her something but she can’t really hear them over her heartbeat, she doesn’t even know they’re gone until it’s too late to turn back.

Getting into the house wasn’t the hard part. Paul’s father, Cyrus, had been leaving as she arrived, and, after he watched her stare at the house with a fearful expression for a few minutes, he happily let her in. The hard part was willing her legs to take her up the stairs to Paul’s room, and then it was opening his bedroom door.

Y/n has known Paul since they were eight, but she was afraid of him until they were eleven. He wasn’t mean, per se, but his anger made him do mean things; she wasn’t entirely happy with puberty and it’s monthly gifts, but whatever it did to make her suddenly un-afraid of him she was grateful for. But now, standing in front of his bedroom door, she had a nagging fear that Paul would revert to that eight year old boy who threw lunch boxes and twisted arms behind backs until people cried.

The door creaks slightly as she struggles to push it open.

His room is almost completely dark except for the light coming from the hallway behind her. Trash and dirty clothes have formed a compact layer on his bedroom floor, foot sized holes leading up to the twin sized bed in the corner. On the bed, amongst the blankets she’s sure he doesn’t need, is Paul— or at least, a Paul sized lump.

As gross as it is, she’s kind of relieved he’s been eating.

“Paul?” She whispers tentatively, stepping toward the bed.

The lump flinches and turns toward her.

“Y/n?”

If the room and the description of his state weren’t heartbreaking enough, his voice definitely was. Hollow, rough, and small, everything it never was, everything Paul wasn’t.

“Is that you?”

“Yeah...it’s me..”

She carefully steps over to the bed, and Paul slowly sits up, pushing his blankets to the side. There’s a beat of silence as she stands between his legs, his reluctant hands coming to rest on her waist after a minute. Y/n let’s him have another to gather his thoughts.

“You really came…” Tears well up in his eyes and loops his arms around her back.

She runs a hand through his hair. “I did, and I’m so sorry, if I had known—”

Paul nuzzles her stomach, “S’fine, you didn’t know, and you’re here now.”

There’s a sort of cute, euphoria lacing his voice and he’s visibly much more relaxed.

“Just don’t ever say that again…”

“I won’t, I promise.”

She’s surprised when he manhandles her into his lap, but she doesn’t really mind. He’s warm and strangely familiar and something about it just— clicks.

“When was the last time you spent, I dunno, a minute or two out of your room?” Y/n asks softly, y/e/c eyes glancing about the room.

The shifter’s only response is a shrug, too busy nosing around her neck with vigor. When he finds a certain spot, it makes her squeak, and this seems to excite him like a puppy finding out its favorite toy makes noise.

“You need to bathe, eat something substantial,” She intertwines their fingers, “and the...pack...they’re really worried about you— are you even listening to me?”

He looks up at her then and flashes her a sheepish smile, answering her question. Pursing her lips, she pulls his arms from around her.

“C’mon, Paul.” She stands up and takes his hand. “We’re gonna get you cleaned up.”

She moves toward the door, urging him forward, only to be jerked to a stop as he stays put. He looks a little distressed when she turns back to him, brows furrowed, almost like he’s in pain.

“Paul?”

He grunts, jaw clenched as the cogs turn in his head. Y/n cocks her head and reaches out for his other hand. It felt like some sort of supernatural intuition, one she’ll blame on the imprint and ask Emily about later.

“Paul, hon, why won’t you come shower?”

“I’m afraid you'll leave,” He says bashfully, “it’s stupid, I know, but part of me is afraid you’ll leave while I’m in the shower.”

Y/n couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken at his confession. Paul was part wolf, and part of being part wolf was imprinting— she almost wishes she’d have stayed long enough to listen, or been able to focus as the boys debriefed her on the ride over because only being able to speculate how much she’d actually hurt him was eating her alive. He wouldn’t even shower, something he desperately needed to do, because of what she’d said.

Taking a deep breath, she barely registers the words she’s about to say.

“I’ll wait with you, I’ll sit on the toilet, you’ll see me there.”

And true to her word, Y/n does sit on the toilet while Paul showers, reading the information on soap bottles to distract herself from the fact that he was there next to her, very naked. Occasionally he asks her what she’s doing, and she reads the ingredients out loud to the best of her ability, and he laughs a little— she tries to hide her smile, but she was too happy he was laughing.

She closes her eyes when he gets out, letting him dry himself off and pull on some clean shorts. He throws the wet towel at her when he’s done, eliciting a “Hey!” that makes him laugh again.

Now that he’s clean, the two of them descend into his quiet house. Y/n navigates the kitchen, her wolf attached to her hip and being less than helpful, and makes them both something to eat— he doesn’t do much more than stand behind her, wrapped around her, making her life more difficult.

“I’m so happy you came back.” He says, watching her work.

“I was always going to.” Y/n responds, her voice sure and steady.

They talk as they eat, sitting across from one another at the too big table in the Lahote household. Talk about how this was going to work, admitting feelings that always lingered, and everything in between; she hooks her leg around his, watching him scarf down his meal with a wrinkled nose and fondness glittering in her y/e/c eyes.

He’s...gross...but he’s hers, she’s kind of stuck with him.

A date is planned. An actual date.

Paul promises to take her to the local diner (and to wear a shirt, for once.)

“I’ve been saving up for something like this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, and you can get that dessert you like.”

Y/n laughs softly, but heat spreads up her neck and settles in her ears and cheeks. It’d been a long time since that had been her favorite food, but it was the thought that counted...

When Cyrus Lahote returns from work later that night his son and the Y/l/n girl are awkwardly situated on his couch— him on his back, snoring, her lying on top of him, face tucked into his neck, also fast asleep. The older man turns off the TV and tosses a blanket over the pair, ascending up the stairs with a smile on his face.

Y/n Y/l/n was trustworthy. She’s always there when Paul is in a rut too big for him to handle...

[darthwheezely]

let me - f.w.

Summary: Fred will always choose you, even if you don’t know and wouldn’t choose him back. Even in the worst of times, Fred would do anything to let you know how much he loves you.

This is based off my recent break up which was supremely awful and I’m going to be picking up the pieces for...a while. This is kind of self-indulgent, I’m sorry about that!

people that might like this: @whiz-bangs78 @monoscandal @gcdric @theweasleyslut @thehufflepuffwife @vogueweasley @loony-loopy-lupinn @oh-for-merlins-sake @slytherinsunrise @lupinsclassroom @durmstrange

Warnings: angst, but slightly fluffy??? mentions of cheating and light homophobia it’ll be ok basically lol and cussing and bullying...oops? PROLLY FUCKING AWFUL WRITING PLZ I TRIED IM JUST EMO RN SKSKWKWJWKKSK

It wasn’t that Fred Weasley hated your boyfriend, it was actually that he had really liked him. Kind of really enjoyed his company. Even went as far to say that he considered him a friend.

And because of that, he told himself, he wasn’t able to see exactly what was happening.

-

Everyone had known that you and Sam Tuckson had broken up, to be honest, drama at Hogwarts was dulling and unfortunately for you, you and your relationship had fallen prey to the lull of gossip. 

Sam Tuckson had basically slid his way into your life at the beginning of fifth year, and to you he was everything you had wanted. The Hufflepuff Keeper was tall, tanned, smiled, and laughed like everything that came to him (including you) was easy, and something in that carefree sense of a walk and talk he had was more than enough to satiate your feelings. You were for all intents and purposes madly in love with him, and everything up until your break up five days ago led you to believe he was as well.

To say Fred had been a little jealous at first was taking it a bit lightly. It didn’t take a whole lot to figure out that Fred had been pining for you since second year, and to make matters worse? He was your best friend. For the first couple of months or so in your new relationship, he found himself at night silently wishing and pretending he was Sam, not needing to steal glances across tables in the Great Hall, being able to hold onto your hand a little longer than he was allowed, and to finally be able to taste your lips on his whenever you wanted him to.

For the first time, he wasn’t your number one boy anymore and it killed him - but the only thing able to bring him back was the joy Sam brought you day after day. It was starting to eat at him past month 2, and with that brought George:

“Freddie. Mate,” he sighed looking at his older twin. Fred hadn’t left bed at all that day and knew he wouldn’t leave it for another day unless he did the inevitable-

“-you have to either tell her or wait. She misses us...she misses you.” 

“I know, Georgie.” He looked at George, longing for peace evident in his angular frame. Fred nodded and sighed, sitting up. 

“I know.”

-

Fred had made it his personal mission to befriend your boyfriend, and while it was painstakingly murderous for the first week or so - he eventually became to warm up to the Hufflepuff boy, even going as far as hanging out with him and letting him in on pranks with George when he wanted. Honestly? The guy was starting to grow on him, the idea of a friend of his dating you seemed to lessen the emotional blow of knowing it wasn’t him, and he felt himself over time starting to possibly lighten his own load on you.

And then the rumors started to fly around.

Fred had been walking to Transfiguration and had rounded the corner-

“I heard he’d been slipping it to Astoria and Daphne!”

Who the hell are they talking about?

“Nah, he doesn’t like Slytherin girls-“

“But have you heard about him with Slytherin boys!” They snickered loudly.

Fred continued to walk, the high pitched giggles of the younger Ravenclaw girlsinging in his ears.

After class he made his way to the Great Hall for lunch when a gaggle of Hufflepuff ladies crossed in front, (they always take so damn long when they’re in a line across, he thought)

“Anyway, I heard he hates her guts now.”

“Sam could never hate her! They were together for soooo long you know.”

His heart stopped. No. No they couldn’t be talking about-

“It’s because she’s frigid that’s what I heard.”

“Y/N? Frigid? Please have you seen her with him, she acted like a slut around him! Disgusting really.” She wrinkled her nose.

He felt his knuckles whiten and a lump in his throat begin to rise.

“I heard he’d been doing it the whole time!” The last one said as they hitched a left to the courtyard.

Fred hadn’t ever known what it’s like to be frozen or paralyzed with anger, but he learned it then.

-

You were sitting in your navy and golden dorm, the only sanctity and safety you felt surrounded by the colors you knew so well. You hadn’t felt the strength to go the Great Hall for anything today, not after breakfast. Not after you waltzed in after what felt like a normal morning and heard tinny laughs and stifled giggles from the Hufflepuff table.

You’d been made the fool by the boy you loved. And there was nothing at this point that could get you past that realization now.

You’d heard the rumors in the hallway. You’d heard them when Pansy Parkinson sat next to you in Potions and whispered in your ear, “maybe just dip yourself in amortentia next time. Might last longer.” You’d seen the way Sam Tuckson, Hufflepuff Golden Boy, looked over at you with nothing but pity in his eyes before he trudged to the Ravenclaw table, looked at the ground and murmured-

“I’m sorry it ended like this. I’m sorry I didn’t know how to love you sometimes.”

And scurried back to his own seat.

You hadn’t had the strength to find the twins. You could barely find the strength to move from your bed, to get more tissues. You simply didn’t have it. And then.

There was a knock on your door.

“Please, Cho, not right now, okay?” You croaked, turned away from the door. You could barely hear the door creak open to see your best friend’s head creeping from the other side.

“Knock, knock, princess.” He said softly, showing your turned frame a small smile.

“Can I come in? Please?” You nodded. Fred came through, shutting the door as quietly as possible behind him. He looked at you curled up in your bed with your uniform still on. Your favorite throw blanket draped over you as you laid on top of the covers and all he could think of was how.

How did he let this happen?

“Freddie, you couldn’t have known.” Fred blinked realizing he had spoken out loud and froze in place.

“Yes, actually I could have”

“Fred-”

“No, I don’t think you understand.” he almost growled it, it was so low that you could barely register it was him saying it. You turned him to look at him then, pulling your knees to a criss cross applesauce position. He clenched his jaw feeling tears and the lump in his throat finally erupting.

“See, Y/N, I’ve always been there to protect you. It’s never been a job, or a chore, because I’ve been so blindingly in love with you ever since you hurled a bezoar at me in Potions when we were 12.” You choked out a small giggle at that, your heart pounding in your chest. He looked up at you then tears on his face.

“I know this isn’t fair. Because this is a really shit time to be selfish and tell you how much I love you, but I was his friend, Y/N. I willingly sat and enjoyed his company and I could’ve seen what he was doing to you because I’m a guy I should know what guys do and quite frankly? You deserve so much” he swallowed and readjusted his jaw again feeling more tears as he watched you crying to, wanting to stop but something in him told him this was it he couldn’t hold in it he couldn’t-

“-so, so much more. Than me. Than him. Jesus, than everyone. And, love, I am...so sorry I didn’t tell you this sooner. Please know our friendship wasn’t a lie and we never have to discuss this ever I just...you’re so bloody fucking perfect and knowing I watched him do that to you without knowing I just-”

“Freddie.” You held out your arms. It was his turn for him to choke then as his knees buckled and fell towards you on the bed. 

You couldn’t be mad at him or angry or upset. You weren’t. You were just,,,

“Fred, I need time.” You whispered against his shoulder, his body engulfing yours in a tango of arms and legs and breaths that only you two knew this well.

“Angel, I didn’t mean to make it seem-” he pulled away to look into your eyes.

“I know you weren’t asking me of anything, Fred. I love you I just...I need time. For a lot of things.” He swallowed and nodded moving to get off the bed and give you the space you needed. However, you pulled him back.

“I love you, Freddie. That isn’t changing.” And out of force his arms seemed tighter as he breathed out, meeting your forehead.

“And I’d wait every second of everyday to hear you say it again.”

[aspiringauthorintraining]

A Pick-Me-Up

“Oikawa-kun!”

Young girls flooded towards the Aoba Johsai captain, Oikawa Tooru, who greeted them with a flirtatious smile.

You rolled your eyes at the scene, as did the rest of the team. Everyone was used to the gaggle of girls surrounding Oikawa after every game, but that didn’t mean it got any less annoying each time.

Ever since you became the team’s manager during first-year, you noticed that none of the other boys received the same treatment that Oikawa did from the crowd. I mean, all of them were just as good looking as him, if not more in your opinion (cough, cough Iwaizumi…lol). So you decided to make goodie bags for the team to let them know that they were just as important in your eyes. And by your third-year as manager, it had just become a habit for you to make them for the team after each game.

That is, sans Oikawa. He always received tons of gifts from his adoring fans; you didn’t need to add to his already huge ego.

Grabbing the bag beside you, filled with small goodie bags, you waited until all of the players were done stretching before handing them out. The third years and second years reacted to your gifts with a thankful smile, while chuckling at their two kouhai’s, who took their bags with wide eyes.

The older boys remembered the similar way they had reacted, the first time you gave them out.

After you made your round, you noticed two bags left. Looking around, you tried to figure out who you missed. Just then, your eyes locked onto the gym entrance.

“Iwa-chan,” you called to the boy who was walking back into the gymnasium floor. He had left to go the the bathroom and so, was the only one who hadn’t gotten their bag yet.

You pushed the small bag of goodies into his hand with a playful wink.

“You know you don’t have to do this every time? The whole team adores you regardless.” he said, shaking his head with a smile.

“And like I always tell you, this is purely for selfish reasons. For all you know, I could be putting small amounts of poison in them, using you all as my test subjects to find out the amount of poison the human body can withstand before succumbing to death.” you shrugged, a small laugh following your words.

“Or maybe we should put all the poison into one cookie and force Oikawa to eat it.” Takahiro suggested from your side.

“That would be a waste of a good cookie.” You reasoned.

Iwaizumi nodded in agreement. “Just pouring the poison down his throat would be faster.”

You both shared a grin at his plan.

“And that’s why you’re my favorite, Hajime.” you reminded him.

“Oye, I thought I was (Y/N)-chan’s favorite.” Oikawa’s voice came from behind.

“You wish.” you replied straightly.

He rested an arm around your shoulder, unaffected by your answer, while you looked at him with a grimace.

“Trashykawa, get away from (Y/N)-chan.” Iwaizumi told him.

Oikawa ignored him, instead staring at the small bag in his friend’s hand with a pout.

“(Y/N)-chan, why do you never give me one of your goodie bags? You give everyone else one.” he whined, bringing his face closer to yours.

“I’m sure you get enough things from your fans, Oikawa-san.” you replied, pushing his face away with your hand.

“Iwa-chan, give me some of yours. I want to try some of (Y/N)-chan’s cookies too.”

“Don’t call me that!”

The captain started to pester the second-year, dramatically pouting and whining. You could see Iwaizumi’s hand itching for a ball to pelt him with.

“Iwa-chan, do you want me to grab you a ball?” you asked with a smile.

Oikawa was momentarily distracted from his pestering, hearing Iwaizumi’s nickname come from your lips.

“Hey why don’t you get mad when (Y/N)-chan calls you that?”

Iwaizumi just rolled his eyes.

“And you, (Y/N)-chan!” he exclaimed, directing his frown to you. “Why do you always call me Oikawa-san?”

“Isn’t that your name?” you asked, innocently.

“You know what I meant! You call everyone else by their first name or nickname and yet for the past three years we’ve know each other, you still call me so formally!”

You looked at Iwaizumi with a look, clearly done with Oikawa’s whining.

He sighed, grabbing ahold the back of Oikawa’s jersey and dragging the whining boy away from you.

___________________

The Aoba Johsai volleyball team was among one of the powerhouses in the Miyagi prefecture. But that didn’t mean they didn’t lose the occasional set every now and then. Especially against another powerhouse like Shiratorizawa. And the one who was the most upset about their loss was none other than the team captain.

Noticing he was missing from the rest of the group, you volunteered to go look for him. You ended up finding him sitting down at the very end of the bleachers with his head down in defeat.

Sighing, you walked over to him. He didn’t notice you were next to him, until he felt something drop into his lap.

It was one of your goodie bags.

“Is this for me?” he asked, surprised. His voice sounded a little hoarse, but you chose not to point it out.

“Yeah. I figured you needed a pick-me-up.” you replied, giving him a soft smile.

“Did you know we were going to lose?” he questioned, his head still down. “Or did someone on the team not want theirs?”

“No, everyone got theirs. That’s yours. I made it for you.”

Your smile grew as you watched his ears suddenly turn bright red.

“But you’ve never given me one before. Why did you make one for me this time?”

“I always made one for you, actually.” you revealed.

Oikawa looked up, his eyes trying to figure out whether you were lying or not.

“I just never gave it to you because it seemed like you never needed it. But seeing your state five minutes ago, it seemed like today was the day I needed to give you one.”

“So this is a pity bag?” he asked, frowning.

You shrugged at his question, before standing up. You held out a hand to him, with a grin.

“Come on, Oikawa-chan.” You giggled seeing his bewildered expression, hearing his name. “Everyone is waiting for us.”

_________________

Ever since you gave Oikawa a goodie bag, you noticed some small changes. He seemed a little bit shy around you. Or as shy as a guy like him could be. He still did not understand the concept of personal space most of the time, and still whined about your so called ‘preferential treatment’ of the rest of the team. But you noticed his ears turn red more often when you were around him, and caught him staring at you during practice. It would normally end up with him being hit with a volleyball by Iwaizumi, who yelled at him to pay attention to the practice.

You, along with the rest of the team, also noticed that his fan club number had significantly decreased, based on the past few games. He never went over to them anymore, choosing to stay with the rest of his team after the match ended.

Even Iwaizumi was surprised by the change in his friend. But he seemed to understand why, once you had told him what happened after the Shiratorizawa game. When you asked him about it, he just gave you a knowing smile and walked away, leaving you utterly confused.

“(Y/N)-chan, I didn’t get anything today either. So I think I need a goodie bag too!” Oikawa bounded towards you, with a smile on his face.

He sure didn’t look like someone who was suddenly abandoned by his fangirls. But you decided to give him one, nevertheless.

His face brightened at the bag you put in his hands, opening it quickly to munch on the contents inside. After he was done, he started to frown.

“Why, what’s wrong? Do they not taste good?” you asked, worried you somehow messed up the recipe this time.

“No, it’s good. But I don’t think a goodie bag will be able to cheer me up this time.”

“Oikawa, we won the match today.” you deadpanned.

“Yes, but the other team’s spiker reminded me of Ushijima and that time we lost.” he said, as if it should’ve been obvious to you.

You saw Iwaizumi look at him weirdly from the corner of your eye. Which was understandable, since the spiker looked nothing like Ushijima. Maybe if you were looking at them far, far away in a pitch black room; you could’ve maybe seen the resemblance, you thought.

“What will then?” you asked, knowing he was going somewhere with this. Where though, you didn’t know.

“A date?” he said, hesitantly. Oikawa’s hopeful eyes stared back at yours.

You paused for a second, surprised at his suggestion. You noticed his ears had turned red again, making you smile.

The rest of team looked at the two of you with interest, eating from their goodie bags like it was popcorn.

“Sure.” you finally said.

Your audience was surprised by your reply, but not as surprised as Oikawa himself was.

“Wait, what? Really?” His eyes wide in surprise at your agreement.

You raised your brow at his reaction. “Did you want me to say no?”

“No, no!” he shook his head fervently. “I just thought that you didn’t like me that much.”

“I’m starting to think Iwa-chan’s nicknames for you are a good fit.” you laughed, seeing his shy self make a reappearance. “I didn’t know you were this oblivious Toru-chan.”

The sound of his first name made him light up. His face reminded you of a child being told they were going to Disney for vacation.

“Why are you so happy?” you asked him, a smile gracing your lips.

“You called me Toru.” he exclaimed, hugging himself in joy.

You made a note to call him by his first name more often, especially if this was the way he would react.

“That’s your name isn’t it?”  

Your words reminded him of a similar conversation a few games back.

“Can you say my name again?”

Laughing, you flicked his forehead before walking away. He trailed behind you like a duckling, pestering you to call him by his first name again.

_________________

“Ah, Ken-chan!”

You bounded over to the second-year boy who always had an angry glare etched into his face. Except this time, he was looking at you with a shy expression.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi looked at the scene with amusement in their eyes.

“Only she would be able to get our Mad Dog-chan to smile like that.” Oikawa grinned proudly.

Kyotani gave you a small smile when you handed him the goodie bag. You patted his head, before resuming handing out the rest.

When you returned to the duo, Oikawa snaked an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. He pecked your cheek, smiling when you blushed at the display of affection.

Iwaizumi and the other boys reacted with a look of disgust on their face.

Oikawa was about to kiss you again, to the team’s dismay, when you pushed his face away. Ignoring his whine, you quickly ran over to Coach Irihata, who had called your name.

“She’s good for you.”

The Aoba Johsai captain nodded at Iwaizumi’s words, a smile still on his lips while he watched you talk to the coaches.

Surprisingly, you both made a good couple. No one thought it would last, with Oikawa known for being a big flirt. Everyone believed you would end up breaking up with him. But after his first date with you, he had completely stopped any interactions with his fan club, having only eyes for you.

But even with his obvious commitment towards you, the team was still protective of you. They reminded him time and time again that they would side with you, whether it be if you were in a fight or worst case scenario, broke up.

“Hurt her and you’ll die, Shittykawa.” Iwaizumi said.

“Yeah, yeah I got your threat.” Oikawa rolled his eyes.

“No, it’s not a threat Oikawa. It’s a warning.” Iwaizumi turned serious.

“Huh?”

“I really think the rest of the team will kill you if you make her cry.” The boys near them nodded unconsciously to Iwaizumi’s statement. “I guarantee Kentaro definitely will, if you hurt his beloved senpai.”

Oikawa gulped at the warning, his face paling. “Well, I have no intention of hurting her.” he confirmed.

“Good.” You said, coming up from behind them after you had finished talking to the coaches. “But you don’t have to worry. If he hurts me, I’ll be the one killing him.”  You grinned at the fear in his widening eyes.

Iwaizumi nodded along, agreeing with you.

“But wait, shouldn’t I be getting ‘the talk’ from y’all too? He is your captain and friend after all.”

“No, we strongly encourage you to make him cry (Y/N)-chan. What doesn’t kill him will make him stronger.”

Oikawa huffed at his friend’s advice while you laughed.

“And if you do actually end up killing him, we’ll help you bury the evidence.”

“HEY!”

______

(A/N): Oikawa Toru with glasses. Enough said. (´ ε ` )♡

[bigfan-fanfic]

So tell me...

How did Morgan (or Cullen?) approach their desire for their current arrangement to the other?

(lol this got long. Anyway, feel free to ask any questions!)

Okay - so Morgan shows up at the Winter Palace and shoos off the gaggle of Orlesians swarming Cullen, and all those feelings he’s had over the years since first seeing Morgan during the Fifth Blight and mistaking him for the Maker returned (he consoles himself of that embarrassment by recalling that he was nowhere near his right mind at that point) come rushing back and Cullen feels his heart jackhammering inside his chest.

But of course he’s not going to make the first move - not with Ser Morgan the Mysterious, Savior of Ferelden. I do enjoy the idea of Morgan coming across Cullen in a moment of -shall we say, indiscretion? - while saying his name, and that leading into a tender first time, after which Morgan assures Cullen he’s not going anywhere. However, it might be equally as likely that Morgan simply approaches Cullen one day and confesses his feelings - Cullen protests his unworthiness, obviously - but it results in the two spending much more time together before they eventually sleep together. I’ve written the former as a one-shot, but the latter seems a more healthy introduction to a relationship.

They know right from the beginning that it’s a romantic relationship and not something purely sexual. There’s not much angst to it at all, and in fact both of them get the chance to discuss their trauma, Cullen with his addiction and his PTSD and his past (and Morgan makes sure to try and guide him to be better), and Morgan opens up about his mother and his insecurities and his loneliness and his worries about being a father.

As far as the BDSM aspect of their relationship, it is largely more of a lifestyle thing for them than a sexual activity. It started out as something they tried once after Morgan revealed a couple of his fantasies, and Cullen enjoyed it a lot. A LOT. But really it became more than just a kink for him when he asked Morgan to tie him up during after a withdrawal episode. It both grounded him and sent him into subspace and Cullen just found that to be so liberating, ironically. He kept his fantasies about this to himself until finally he was able to drum up the courage to ask about it, and with some help from the Iron Bull in determining what they wanted, Cullen became Morgan’s sub, wearing a small green circle on a cord in public to signify his belonging, and a leather collar made special for him in private. 

Cullen is almost always tied up for sex, and quite often relaxation involves Cullen bound in some way, unless he is required to go outside where he could be seen or if he’s needed physically and his hands need to spread wider than a set of manacles would allow. They do spend plenty of time without bondage, but even so Cullen always wears one of his collars - Morgan is the only one allowed to change them out.

When they have children, Cullen prefers to limit their activities to their room and those times they are traveling to meet old friends or check on the rehabilitation center. Morgan works with Cullen’s siblings on the Rutherford Homestead and their friends to ensure that they have plenty of time alone to continue their play and comfort without involving their children, although Cullen does continue to wear his public collar as it helps ground him.

As far as in a Modern!AU, it’s a lot easier for them to shift into that lifestyle once Cullen realizes he likes being tied up just in general, not just in bed, and they do so after a frank discussion and negotiation.

[pinkysfaultorbrainsfault]

pinky and the brain: s1e7 - tv or not tv

y’all do NOT understand how many times i have tried to post this. tumblr just will not stop eating it. this was supposed to be out last wednesday LMAO i am doing my best.

episode summary: brain engineers a pair of Mouse Dentures that give him a charming smile. anyone hypnotised by these dentures Suddenly Adores Him For No Good Reason. unfortunately, he’s also a bit of a shut in, so nobody is actually going to see his charming smile-- unless he gets himself a sitcom.

....or something.

the rundown:

we open on brain talking about the “weird and magical power” of celebrity. he has defaced several women, and is sticking his ass out. as you do. what is he doing to CINDY! and her ilk?? he must be stopped.

“those who have it weild tremendous influence. few can avoid the enchantment of its’ spell.”

“do you know what gives them this power?”

holy shit. he just stabbed CINDY!.

pinky absolutely does not care for CINDY!’s fate. “haha. narf. hey, paddlefoot, do you know what they call a quarter pounder in france?”

of course, sirius black was not in pulp fiction, and neither, as far as i can tell, was he in france. brain silences him with “enough gay banter”, like he wasn’t just sticking his ass out in his general direction, like, two minutes ago.

(this was the 90s, y’all. gay definitely meant gay back then. this is not the faraway tree.)

“pinky! behold the key to the power of attraction!”

“pushpins!”

“hurraaaaaaaaaaaah!”

“no, pinky.”

apparently the key to attraction is a

“winning smile”, as brain points out, tapping on CINDY!’s poor mutilated face for emphasis.

“and a nice healthy gum!”

“and... a nice healthy gum.”

it turns out that brain has “taken this idea of the influential smile to a new level - a level no less than world domination“, which is bold words for Mr Tumble Dryer. to achieve this, he has invented

teeth.

(okay. so it’s a bit bigger than that. he shows pinky the plans for,

and then a prototype of, a whole machine built specifically to engineer him little mousie dentures. a lot of work went into this one. shame, really.

“when did you have time to build that?”

“while you were engrossed in your mr belvedere reruns.”

“oh, i miss him. ):” )

anyway so. brain puts his teeth in.

there he is.

pinky describes this as

“enchanting (’:”

and brain affirms that it’s supposed to be. apparently the “reflective vibrations” (okay) of his smile stimulates the medula oblongata,

“causing the viewer to adore me for no good reason!”

“zort! i’m adoring you for no good reason!”

(he does point out, while brain is admiring his reflection in a nearby bunsen burner, “what if they’re wearing sunglasses?”

brain’s response is “we’ll work nights.”)

still, brain can’t just sit around in the lab twiddling his thumbs and expect the general public to Adore Him For No Reason. he needs exposure! and as pinky ponders “what would mr belvedere do,” brain asserts that he would “eat some butter”.

“i’m afraid, my friend, that you’ve seen far too much of mr belvede--”

more like mr belvIDEA lol. sorry i’ll see myself out.

“pinky, are you pondering what i’m pondering?”

“i think so, brain, bur it’s a miracle that this one grew back. ):”

.....okay.

thankfully, the plan is not, in fact, to amputate pinky’s leg. again???? instead, brain intends to use a weapon of “great stealth, power, and corruption.”

OUR OWN SITCOM.

✨

meanwhile, at the wb studio, we meet jerry kilmer. mr kilmer is currently being harassed by some dudes who also really, really want their own sitcom. for far less nefarious purposes, presumably.

“so there’s this guy, right?”

“and get this! he designs--”

“BIKINIS.”

“TINY LITTLE BIKINIS. OKAY okay okay okay so here’s the hook.”

“HE’S PRETENDING--”

“TO BE BLIND.”

it does not appear to be what mr kilmer is looking for.

(meanwhile, the mice are spying on the acme labs janitor. he seems like a cool dude! but the mice are not here for friendship.

they sneak into his jacket pocket!

and...... steal his.... car keys? “YES. to the television station!”

✨

this isn’t even the first vehicle he’s stolen. hopefully he’ll have this one back by curfew as well.)

they do get pulled over by the police, but i don’t want to go into that. unless you guys reaaaallly want me to. instead, they park outside the studio and harass some poor receptionist.

“excuse me. we’re here to-- pitch. as they say. a sitcóm. my dear.”

i don’t know why brain says words like that.

“appointment?”

“oh, i’m sure you can--”

“work us in.” says brain. he is sticking his ass out for no reason. all the appeal is in his sparkly dentures, so.... there’s really no need for that, my dude.

✨

“you’re next! for no good reason!”

these dudes are still here. “wait!” yells our budding comedian, “wait! check out this idea. it’s about a guy!”

original.

“who always sticks his foot in his mouth!!”

clever. unfortunately, his demonstration goes wrong, and he ends up kicking mr kilmer in the face.

bonk.

gives him a nasty black eye to boot. ouch.

“ugh. can’t i ever just see someone normal?”

good thing these very normal individuals have just shown up, huh? nothing shady about these guys. “ugh, thank goodness,” says mr kilmer. they introduce themselves politely as jonathan michael charles (left) and jamal spelling (right).

“you guys have quite a look.”

“thank you.”

✨

“alright then. what do you got for me?”

“egad, brain.”

“he’s not adoring you for no good reason!!”

“drat.”

“well. we’re young hip adults--”

“and hijinks ensue!”

“who sit on a big fat couch and whine--”

“with disaaaasterous results!!”

“and have lots of generation x friends who trade zippy, sarcastic banter.”

“and i have a monkey.”

a very original concept.

at least, mr kilmer sems to think so. “hmmm. fresh. but tell me! what really brings you here. what are jamal and jonathan all about.”

“actually,  we are two lab mice involved in a broad and sweeping plan to take over the world.”

mr kilmer thinks this is hilarious, apparently.

these guys do not. but they’re not important, for the moment.

the long and short of it, anyway, is that kilmer can’t give them a sitcom because nobody knows who they are, quote unquote. “the day i see your face on the cover of peeple magazine is the day you get a sitcom.”

irritated, jamal and jonathan make their exit.

and mr kilmer laughs so hard at the idea of lab mice trying to take over the world, that he falls out of his chair.

this will become relevant later.

meanwhile -- i just had to screencap this, okay, because of brain’s face. pinky suggests that he get on the cover of peeple by marrying prince charles. and brain thinks this is a horrible idea.

he’s much more interested in princess diana. but no, pinky, the path he must follow is “the same one followed by the leading sitcom stars of the day.”

“i must become a SUCCESSFUL STANDUP COMEDIAN.”

“so hey, how about those mitochondria? do they have enough cilia or what?”

“hey, why don’t you tell a joke you know!”

this may be harder than brain thought. undeterred, though, he presses on.

“do you ever notice how when you’re looking in the mirror of a quadrant electrometre, your forehead seems large?? why is that??”

“i just flew in from cleveland! and boy are my upper extremeties fatigued by a buildup of lactic acid!”

“booooooooooooooo!” says our guy on the left.

“go back to your troll village, squirt!” says his friend on the right. “what do you say to that?”

“i find you repugnant.”

(well. that made them laugh, at least.)

“your stupidity is matched only by the ill-slipped caterpillar, that chews off its’ own wings after emerging from its’ cucoon!!!”

“in fact! all of you! are just a gaggle of pathetically misguided root diggers!!”

“why don’t you all stand under a stalactite and bellow the resonate frequency, causing it to plummet onto your cranium!!”

“you’re all repugnant i say!!! repugnant!!!”

and with that little mousie tantrum out of his system, brain trundles off to sulk.

pinky claps him on the way out.

“egad brain! narf! they love you!”

“yes.”

so then he goes on tv, i guess.

“our comedy challenger is the master of insults! the prince of putdowns! jamal spelling!”

“you’re all a bunch of crevulating nitwits with peat moss for a cortex. repugnant!”

i don’t envy that guy third from the right. he doesn’t look like he’s having a very good time. he’s sensitive about his peat moss cranium, okay? don’t make fun of him.

NEXT ON G, HOWIE TURN HOSTS COMEDIAN JAMAL SPELLING.

“so, uh, jamal spelling. what kind of stupid name is that? cmon? what’s your real name?”

this would be racist if jamal spelling was a human man comedian and not like, a lab mouse. thankfully, this is not the case.

“my real name is the brain.” says brain, helpfully enunciating the “the”. “and you, my unwashed friend, are repugnant.”

HA HA. HA HA HA HA HA.

“oh, you’re hot, baby.”

okay.

but we’re, uh. we’re not going to think about that, and we’re going to go look at the david letterman show instead.

“uh, my next guest-- paul, do you know who our next guest is?”

“daaaaave, i know he’s a beautiful kind of-- nutty cat who just got us all a-wow.”

“here he is, ladies and gentlemen! for your comedy dollar, jamal spelling!!”

jamal spelling appears to be naked.

but he’s funny, so nobody minds.

“somebody here smells like a coagulated agar slant growing in a petri dish. repugnant!”

see! he’s just too comedy for clothes.

(meanwhile, we take a short trip to the office of janet mekko. “welcome, mr kilmer,” she says.

“my... secretary sent me here-- actually, i feel kind of stupid.”

“oh, honey. that’s a good thing! if there weren’t any stupid people, i wouldn’t have any business.”

“now. ya got some paaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiin.”

(in the distance, dan reynolds - at the tender age of eight - mumbles “you made me a, you made me a believer” in his sleep.)

“yeah.” says mr kilmer, completely unaware of this. “i fell out of my chair.”

“i’m gonna hypnotise you, so relax.”

okay.

“this’ll make you sleepy.”

“what is it?”

“a kenny g album.”

“okay. you’re in a trance. i’m gonna give you a random word. if you feel pain, say that word, you’ll feel good.”

“but careful! cause if you say it when you’re feeling good, the pain will come back! bad.”

spooky.

“and your random word is--”

“repugnant.”

there is, of course, absolutely no way this can go wrong.)

let us turn our view to happier pastures. namely, the mice are watching tv.

TONIGHT ON CIRCUS OF THE STARS

HARRY DEAN ANDERSON GETS SHOT OUT OF A GIANT PASTA MAKER

COMEDIAN JAMAL SPELLING FLIES THE TRAPEZE

AND BOB SAGET GETS TRAMPLED BY A BEAR. we hope.

pinky is elated! “egad, brain! circus of the stars! narf! you’ve really made it!”

pinky wants to be on circus of the stars, don’t you know. unfortunately, as he dutifully informs brain in pretty much the same breath, he hasn’t quite made it into peeple magazine yet.

“hm. it’s time to use plan b, pinky.”

“there was an a?? poit.”

ouch. jesus, pinky.

undeterred, brain marches his merry little ass over to the old timey corded phone.

beep.

“yes, connect me with buckinham palace, please.”

“egad! you did it brain! the cover of peeple!”

rule britannia is playing in the background of this scene. let’s... not think too hard about how this works, and agree that, yes, pauly shore, enough.

no more pauly shore, please.

conclusion:

jerry keeps his word, and, upon learning that jamal spelling is now legally married to princess diana (a fact which would certainly not lead to a warrant for his arrest in a couple of years) he asks him for a demo tape.

for such small hands, jamal sure does have very neat handwriting.

“make me laugh, jamal, and you got yourself a sitcom.”

“why don’t you all stand under a stalactite and bellow the resonate frequency, causing it to plummet onto your cranium!!”

he seems to like it! kilmer makes a little hee hee noise, unprepared for where this is undoubtedly going.

“you’re repungnant!”

“AAUGHGHGHHH.”

there it is.

“repugnant!”

“i say repugnant!”

repugnant repugnant repugnant repugnant

repugnant!

and with that, jerry kilmer falls out of the window.

as he does, he yells “i’ll get you, jamal spelling” which personally i think is unfair. jamal couldn’t have known, surely? don’t be mean to jamal. he’s got a lot on his mind, what with that restraining order against howie turn.

meanwhile, in the lab, the mice debate a good pitch for a pilot (i’ve got it, brain! it’s a show about nothing!) when jamal spelling gets a call.

“hi jamal! this is nina from the tv station. could you come down for a meeting?”

“mm hmmm.”

✨

it’s the WB.

as nina types away, jamal and jonathan enter casually, like this is their house, or something. “are you pleased to see us?” asks jamal, in a cocky, egomaniac labmouse sort of way.”

“yes i am!”

(nina somehow doesn’t notice.)

anyway then these guys find the dentures and pitch the first idea that comes into their heads.

“hey cortex! what do you wanna do tonight?”

don’t ask why mouse dentures fit a human man. we suspend our disbelief here.

(also there was no way this was brain’s fault. he couldn’t have known. outside influence it is. a shame, really.)

brain: 7 pinky: 7 outside influence: 14

thanks for the fun meme, @shuunthenonbeliever​ !

[snusbandxknifewife]

Have a field trip fic I finished at 6am I’m sorry y’all lol

~~~~~~~

Field trip fic 1–York’s Wild Kingdom

“ Vivi, no!” I hiss, setting down the itinerary my sister kept insisting on handing me. “I can’t just leave Faerie to go on some zoo trip, just because you feel like laying in bed!”

“Oh come on,” she turns and points to Heather in exasperation. “I won’t just be laying in bed. She’s got the flu, and I can’t chaperone this trip without her!”

“But you expect me to go alone?” I’m incredulous, the list of my duties back in Faerie flitting through my head at lightning speed.

Heather opens her mouth to say something, but closes it again and sinks back into the couch with exhaustion written in every line of her body. Vivi’s eyes shoot to her girlfriend, obviously concerned, but I don’t let it sidetrack me.

“You expect me to watch a gaggle of children—“

“Oak’s friends.” Vivi interrupts.

“—alone? Vivi I have a thousand different things I need to do, none of which involve wrangling a hundred little demons. Why not tell Madoc to go?”

She fixes me with a tired look and I have to admit that maybe suggesting Madoc, of all people, wasn’t my smartest move. Honestly, I don’t think I can picture any scenario involving Madoc and a field trip that doesn’t end with at least one person in the emergency room.

I sigh and bury my face in my hands, my elbows resting on the breakfast bar in Vivi’s kitchen. Out in the living room, some reality show blares and Chinese food containers are stacked miles high. With Heather sick, all she’s wanted was takeout food and sleep. Vivi looks at her wits end, clearly far more worried about her girlfriend than the field trip that she’s assured me Oak has been looking forward to for weeks.

“I glamoured Oak’s teacher already. She thinks you and Cardan were the chaperones all along.” 

My eyes go wide and I shoot to my feet, ready to wring my sister’s neck. “You want me to bring Cardan? Vivi you expect both the King and Queen of Faerie to just leave for some stupid—“

“It’ll only be for the day, which is night for Faerie.” She sounds exasperated. “Nobody will even have to know you’re gone and you’ll be back by eight, long enough to get some shut eye for the next day.”

And because she’s right, we would be gone in the middle of the night, I don’t really have anymore reason to argue with her; especially given how Heather chooses that exact moment to make a run for the toilet in the hall bathroom.

I sigh and admit defeat, grabbing the itinerary for Mrs. Walker’s third grade class field trip to York’s Wild Kingdom Zoo and Amusement Park. Scowling down at the times and picking up Heather and Vivi’s chaperone t-shirts, I walk out of the apartment and make my way back to where I parked my ragwort steed.

Two days later, I’m standing between my little brother and my husband, both bouncing with excitement in Mrs. Walker’s classroom as we wait for the call to line up to go to the busses.

Cardan and I match, mostly because we’re both wearing pairs of his dark canvas breeches and identical chaperone shirts, dyed the world’s most neon shade of orange to attract attention. His ears and tail are glamoured away, only visible to myself and Oak. He passed well for a mortal man, though his pale skin and ethereal beauty have already earned at least one open-mouthed stare from Mrs. Devins, a housewife who also happens to be chaperoning.

“Mrs. Greenbriar, can I go to the bathroom?” Emily, a little girl in our group, asks for the second time this morning.

I leave Cardan and Oak looking over a map of the park and walk Emily down the hall to the third grade bathroom, waiting for her to finish and walking her back without a word. By the time we return, both boys are sitting in little desks with their heads all but pressed together, Cardan’s legs stretched out in front of him because they’re far too long for him to sit properly.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the itinerary, on which I have written a list of all the kids we’re responsible for today.

Oak

Emily

Derrick

Thomas

Annabelle

Kelly

The entirety of the third grade is going on this trip, so we’ve gotten off easy only having to watch six kids, especially since we were allowed to chaperone together. I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d had to turn Cardan loose in the mortal world with a gaggle of children.

We’re here at six o’clock in the morning, two hours before school starts, because it’ll be a long drive to the zoo. We’re set to arrive at about nine o’clock and we will depart at five to be back by eight. Cardan and I don’t typically wake up until ten at night, so we’ll do well if we sleep on the bus ride back.

“Jude! What’s a wallaby?” Cardan asks, wonder glimmering in his tar black eyes.

“I think it’s Australian.” I announce, sitting down beside him as Mrs. Walker starts to call groups to head to the busses.

“What’s an Australian?”

I’m saved from answering that glorious question when Mrs. Walker tells us to head to bus 560. I stand again, counting the kids in our group and grabbing our bag before waving them out the door and down the hall.

When we get on the bus, I set about grabbing a seat for Cardan and myself at the front of the bus, because I remember every field trip in the mortal world involving kids sitting behind the chaperones. Oak and his friends confirm my memories by running as far back in the bus as they can, already getting loud and rowdy despite how early it is.

I sit Cardan by the window, knowing he’ll want to look out as we drive. His eyes are already wide, his nose wrinkling at the overpowering scent of gasoline. He still holds the map in his hands, focusing intently as I go through the bag to double check that were given an epi-pen because Emily is allergic to bees.

“Did you inform The Bomb about our whereabouts?” I ask him, whispering so we aren’t heard over the sound of the bus. “Is everything all taken care of?”

“Faerie won’t burn down because we leave for one night, wife.” He rolls his eyes at me, pressing a kiss to my temple. “And, yes, I told Bomb we were going on a field trip.”

His mouth curls around the words, almost like he isn’t sure he’s saying them right. Still, I don’t miss the teasing, so I glare in his direction before turning once more to the itinerary, which I already memorized two days ago.

Our bus driver, an elderly man named Ian, climbs on and greets us. The whole bus is full of third graders, more than just Mrs. Walker’s class, and it’s already nearly deafening. Within thirty seconds, some teacher I’m not familiar with is yelling at the kids to quiet down.

Cardan folds up the map and puts it in our bag as the bus drives away, absentmindedly grabbing my hand and watching out the window.

The bus ride passes quickly, likely because I, against all odds, fell asleep sometime before sunrise. When I’m awoken by Cardan’s fingers running through my hair and his delicate whispers of my name, I reach for my knife in a panic.

“You weren’t allowed weaponry today, my darling villain.” He laughs in my ear and I finally process my surroundings, remembering that we’re chaperoning for Oak’s field trip and I have no reason to pull a knife on a bunch of third graders.

At least, not yet.

“Are we there yet?” I groan, sleep thickening my voice as I rub my eyes hard enough to see stars.

Cardan smiles at me, telling me that Mrs. Walker said we were about ten minutes out. “I figured you’d like to go over your schedule once more, for good measure.”

I can’t tell if he’s being genuine or if he’s making fun of me, but I do look at our papers one more time to be safe. The last thing I want to do is lose a kid or go somewhere at the wrong time.

“I’m not sure who this Wendy lady is, but she seems to have an affinity for eateries.” Cardan announces as we pass a Wendy’s, likely for the bazillionth time this trip. I smile and ignore him, triple checking out epi-pen and reorganizing our bottles of water before closing the bag once more.

Behind us, another chaperone asks how long we’ve been married. When Cardan tells her it’s been more than a year and she visibly blanches, I remember that mortals don’t tend to marry as young as we did. It’s strange, being surrounded by humans who all show their ages so obviously.

To them, we’re barely adults. They likely think we’re going to college or working small jobs. I suppose I can’t blame them for being surprised, out of our normal clothing, you’d never suspect Cardan and I rule over a kingdom. We don’t really look the part of a King and Queen when we’re forced to wear traffic cone orange shirts and sit in a smelly old school bus.

Ian pulls up to the front of the zoo and I have to hold Cardan down to keep him in his chair as other groups file off. Our kids are in the very back, singing along to some repetitive song about baby sharks, clearly just as impatient as my husband.

When I finally get everyone off the bus and their wrist bands around their arms, I do another headcount and roll call. Cardan slings our bag onto his back, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking around as fast as he can, trying to take in all the bright colors and loud noises.

I go over our schedule with the kids, telling them how we’ll be spending the morning at the zoo and the afternoon at the amusement park. The hour in between is reserved for eating and any shopping that they might want to get done, as well as our scheduled trip to the butterfly pavilion.

“No, Derrick, you can’t pet the tigers.” I sigh as the little blond boy raised his hand, mischief in his eyes. He’s asked me this question at least six times since I met him. If his tiger printed shirt and matching tiger baseball cap are anything to go by, I’d assume he has a favorite animal.

I wrangle the kids and allow them to walk in front of us, one eye glued to Oak and the other watching everyone else as they run ahead.

“Ok, but can I pet the tigers?” Cardan whispers in my ear as we snake through the rides, heading back towards the zoo.

“Cardan, if you so much as look at a tiger I will kick your ass.” I hiss back, my heart rate spiking as my mind plays images of Cardan getting mauled by tigers.

Quickly, the visions morph into him standing naked, surrounded by the gore of a slaughtered snake. My throat threatens to close and tears almost prick at my eyes. “And we aren’t looking at any reptiles, either.”

“There aren’t any, I checked the map.” He’s so caught up in the park around us that he thankfully doesn’t notice my change in tone, allowing me a few seconds to compose myself again. “But there are lions, I want to see whose tail looks nicer.”

I can’t help the snort I let out. “More like whose mouth is bigger.”

“Oh my nemesis, how you wound me.”

We make it to the zoo entrance and all the kids are instantly fighting over where they want to go first.

“I want to see the camels!”

“Ducks are cooler!”

“You can see ducks anywhere!”

“Give me tigers or give me death!”

“Derrick get off the picnic table!” I yell, upon seeing that the little boy has climbed up on an extremely rickety table. “Cardan, please go get the tiger enthusiast.”

“Mrs. Greenbriar, I need to go to the bathroom.” Emily pulls at the hem of my shirt.

Cardan, now with Derrick on his back and a tiger baseball cap covering his eyes, returns to my side. “I believe a trip to the bathroom is wisest, then we’ll circle around the park.”

Oak grabs my hand and Emily stays attached to my shirt hem as we walk to the bathrooms. Ten minutes later, we’re all looking at the tigers and I think Derrick may be having an aneurism.

“Jude, is that what I sound like when I wax poetic about my wine?” Cardan stage whispers in my ear as Derrick begins his third long-winded speech about the majesty of the tiger.

“Your speeches are far more pleasing to the ear, my king.” I smirk as Derrick slips up, mispronouncing a word and deciding that the mistake warrants starting all over.

Below us, a few tigers jump around their enclosure, one playing with a pumpkin full of ground beef. Thomas is goading Derrick into a fourth speech and Oak is pointing excitedly, Annabelle and Emily hanging off every word he says.

I smile, wrapping my arm around my husbands waist and leaning into his side as another tiger attacks the one with the pumpkin, rolling into the side of the enclosure with teeth snapping.

I wish I’d taken a moment longer to revel in the calm, because three hours later, I am at my wit’s end.

Cardan is pouting because he severely misunderstood what a sea lion was, Kelly is crying because she dropped her iPhone—what kind of a third grader even has a smart phone—Oak is on my shoulders, Derrick is pissed that we won’t go back to the tigers, Emily has been to the bathroom four times, Thomas won’t stop trying to do handstands, and Annabelle is whining that she’s starving.

On top of all of that, my husband’s face is turning the color of roses because he is entirely too pale to be walking around without sunblock on.

“Just watch them!” I yell at Cardan as I pull the wallet out of our bag and go stomping in the direction of the closest souvenir shop. I hear Kelly’s crying switch from complaining about her phone to complaining about not being able to shop, but I’m a woman on a mission right now.

A little bell rings as I duck into the shop, taking Oak off my shoulders and giving him the order to only look for what we’re here for. It takes a few minutes and I know my husband won’t be happy with the final outcome, but Oak grabs the perfect hat, glamouring a handful of leaves into dollar bills so I can buy it and leave.

I find the group back by the camels, the kids sticking their fingers through the fencing in the hopes of getting licked by one of the large animals.

“Jude, what are you holding?” Cardan’s voice rouses me from my thoughts, thankfully distracting me as Kelly screeches about getting spit on by a camel.

“A hat. For you.” I hold it out. He takes a step back, his face contorting in horror.

“Jude, my wife, that article of clothing may be the worst I’ve ever laid eyes on,” he announces with a quiet, nearly tear-filled voice. “The very pits of fashion, certainly not suitable for my current outfit!”

“Nothing is suitable for a shirt that orange, certainly not cheeks as red as yours have gone,” I snort in response, throwing the monstrosity atop his head and stepping back to examine my work.

It’s a large floppy hat, similar to the fabric ones you’d see on the beach, but it’s printed with terrible drawings of all types of zoo animals as well as having the park’s name and logo emblazoned across the front. It covers Cardan’s whole face, the shadows showing just how badly he’s already been burned.

He reaches up to take it off, obviously seconds from flinging it away in disgust.

“Cardan you have a terrible sunburn and I won’t have you bitching about peeling skin tomorrow. You’ll wear the hat or you’ll regret it,” I warn, enough fire in my eyes to make him put the hat back on with a pout.

“I think it’s,” Oak starts confidently, aiming for a compliment but faltering in the middle, “a hat.”

Cardan laughs, his rosy cheeks squishing up with his grin as he picks up his nephew. “Oak, my friend, you’re far too old to twist your words so poorly,” he smiles. “I’ll have to teach you better ways to flatter insincerely before your first court appearance.”

I roll my eyes and turn back to the other kids, having to drag Thomas down from where he’s begun to climb the camel enclosure. He whines, as do the rest of the kids when I tell them it’s time to leave the zoo, but they all perk up again when I say it’s also time for lunch.

Cardan fishes out the envelope full of meal vouchers as I take orders. A chicken strip meal for that one, two burgers for them, a grilled cheese for her, a hot dog for him, and nachos for Oak. Cardan wisely takes my advice and settles for a burger, openly fascinated by the very concept of mortal cuisine.

I personally take chicken strips and french fries with ketchup, a delicacy from my youth that I so sorely miss in a land where salt is toxic to its inhabitants. Cardan pouts when I don’t let him steal a fry—the last thing I need is to have him puking on fair rides this afternoon—but greatly enjoys the bite of chicken I offer.

He is yet again far too tall for the table and his fingers are laughably large for the burger he holds, but the kids all seem to be enjoying the “act” that Mr. Greenbriar puts on where he pretends not to understand basic things around him. They absolutely have a riot when he asks me what ketchup is.

Then it’s cleanup time and off to the butterfly enclosure. Something I, for one, am actually looking forward to. Cardan wraps his arm around my waist once more, his stupid hat shielding me from the sun too, and watches with me as the kids clamber inside the first door.

An attendant warns us to be delicate with the butterflies because their wings can get hurt easily and then she lets us inside. All my stress from earlier melts away for a moment as the room opens up to a rainforest utopia, butterflies of all shapes and sizes and colors fluttering about our group.

Thankfully the kids are quiet and well-behaved in here, too busy being awestruck by the butterflies to start doing stupid things like climbing walls. All but Oak, who walks back towards us with a small frown on his face.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, my fingers brushing through his hair and over his horns.

His shoulders slump but he doesn’t say anything.

“Your queen commanded you to speak, it is your duty to obey her,” Cardan lightly reprimands, his fingers going under Oak’s chin to force him to lift his head.

A monarch floats by on a lazy breeze, crossing right between us and drawing all of our attention for a moment.

“Sometimes I miss home,” he finally admits, his eyes hollow in a way I haven’t seen in him before, a way I know I used to sport often in my youth. “The mortal world has things that Elfhame doesn’t, but when I watch everyone else get excited over pretty gardens or animals, I remember that home is far prettier.”

Cardan lets go of my waist, grabbing Oak and putting him on his hip before walking deeper into the garden.

I can’t hear what they say, I can only watch as my husband calls butterflies, first to his open palm, then to my brothers. I feel my heart clench as he whispers something in Oak’s ear that makes my little brother smile again. My eyes follow him as Cardan sets him down once more, allowing him to run back to his friends.

“What did you say?” I ask, reaching a hand out to my husband as he returns.

“Merely that beauty isn’t inherent in a place or thing,” he smiles, reaching out his hand in turn and allowing a little blue butterfly to hop into my palm. “That it is what we cultivate, and he has more than enough magic to make some here.”

I blink back sudden tears at the way he looks at me, the open and pure adoration in his eyes. He pulls me into a kiss as a few more butterflies settle on his hat and in my hair.

Then Emily asks about the god forsaken bathroom and the moment is ruined.

“I swear that child has a urinary tract problem,” I hiss, turning back to the kids as Cardan laughs at me.

We leave the butterfly room behind and head to the bathrooms. Again.

The kids are running circles around Cardan when I return, leaving him openly concerned and visibly longing for a wine goblet. Oak is studiously sat at his Uncle’s side, looking every bit the little prince that he is but wasn’t raised to be.

“My mommy gave me forty dollars!” Kelly yells at Derrick, the two seemingly in the midst of a fight about buying stuff at the gift shop.

“Kelly, some of that is for dinner,” I warn her. “We have to eat on the way back so you need to save your money.”

“My mom said I can buy two tigers!” My warnings go out the window as Derrick distracts Kelly once more, the two descending into a fight about which is better, tigers or cheetahs.

My eye twitches as I grab a water bottle from our bag, leaning into Cardan’s ear and whispering, “oh my husband my darling, do save me before I challenge a child to a duel.”

He laughs at me, standing up and grabbing Oak’s hand. He then assures me that it can’t be too bad, we already survived Annabelle trying to jump into the sea lion pool, surely we can handle shopping with a few children.

At least Oak had my back in that shop, because gods know my husband lost his mind the second he got inside.

I don’t honestly remember what happened, I think I blacked out about the time Thomas took a running leap at a stuffed animal display and I had to catch him mid air.

“I don’t think it was too bad,” Oak says as he holds his brand new assortment of little stuffed butterflies. “You didn’t draw any blood when Kelly tried to buy a four hundred dollar necklace.”

“You checked the map, does this place have bumper cars?” I grind my teeth, watching Cardan stuff an insanely large plastic bag into our little black bag. He keeps refusing to show me what’s inside, insisting it’s a surprise.

“It does,” my brother confirms.

“Good,” I nod, herding him out of the store last. “Because I’m going to put some of these kids into a wall.”

And put them into a wall I do. By the time we make it off the bumper cars and to the Ferris wheel, Mrs. Jude Greenbriar is well on her way to being a legend in Mrs. Walker’s class, purely for her ruthless approach to bumper cars. Cardan, who insisted on standing aside since Emily didn’t want to ride—something about it making her need to pee—looked increasingly more horrified every time I spun around and sent another kid’s cart flying away from mine.

At least it calmed the nerves a little bit.

“My villain, my gorgeous, bloodthirsty little god,” he whispers in the shell of my ear, sending a shiver down my spine as our Ferris wheel cart rises up into the sky. “I expected a modicum of mercy for the mortal children.”

“Cardan if I ever have to take another child to a bathroom it will be too soon,” I snap, the sudden motion of me turning to face him causing our cart to rock dangerously.

He grins at me.

I raise an eyebrow.

“Good thing our children won’t need bathroom breaks,” he finally supplies. “I wouldn’t want you putting them into a wall.”

My eyes widen in shock. It’s not like we haven’t discussed children before—we’ll need to produce an heir to the throne at some point—and it’s not like I haven’t thought about having kids with him—we do share a bed every night—but to hear him so casually mention it is a rare thing indeed.

He looks concerned, opening his mouth, likely to apologize for upsetting me, when his words really register in my head and I collapse back against the seat with a joyous little sigh

~~~~~

Tag list: @cardan-greenbriar-tcp @hizqueen4life @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @thewickedkings @aelin-queen-of-terrasen

[bruh-haikyuu]

Yes I have been waiting for this day 😭😭 can I request some angst(is that how you spell it lol) for oikawa and kuroo where their S/O recieve a message from their ex saying that if they dont break up with the them they will cause them harm the s/o breaks up with them but doesn't tell anyone you decide if its going to be a happy ending or not also I dont know what would fit this request I was think scenario but it's up to you I hope you have a good day and keep up the amazing writing 💖💖💖💖

A/N: o shit damn this is going to hurt to write bUT IM EXCITED ANYWAY BECAUSE PAIN IS GREAT

Also I’ll write this in two parts; one for Oikawa and one for Kuroo because I feel like they deserved two individual posts. Have a great week anon! Thank you for requesting

Kuroo’s Version: here

“I can’t stop thinking about you, Y/N. It hurts me to see you with another man.”

You could only stare at your phone in silence as terror drains the color from your cheeks. He was back. He shouldn’t be back. He couldn’t be back.

“Don’t you miss me too, Y/N?”

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your wrists threatening to collapse at the flash-flood from your past. “Please leave me alone.”

“Oh.”

You heard the sound of shattering glass in your head, like you had just cut off the wrong wire and set off a bomb. Then the stream of texts continued.

“I’ll do anything for you, Y/N. I’ll admire you from far away. Anything. But will that bastard do the same?

He can’t love you like I do. He could never.

Oikawa Tooru. Age 18. One older sister. Date of birth July 20, 2000. Lives in Kurihara-shi near the postal office with his parents. Attends Aoba Johsai High School, Class 3-6.

Him. Don’t you want to keep him safe, Y/N?”

internecine. | oikawa tooru

warnings: blackmail, angst

word count: 1154

(n.) mutually destructive

“Y/N-chan~ what’s with all the rush? Are we playing a game of tag you never told me about?”

Your obnoxious boyfriend (plus a gaggle of giggling girls sneaking up on him behind a pillar) trailed at your frenzied footsteps on the midday after that. You still haven’t told him yet. No, you weren’t even planning to tell him anything about it. You were already scared enough about it, and you didn’t want to burden Oikawa after his defeat by Shiratorizawa.

“Am I ‘it’?”

“Tooru.” You finally turned around, meeting him with dead-cold eyes. Those eyes and the way his name rolled off your tongue was enough to keep his advances at bay. “C-can we talk?”

“Sure.”

Eyes peering over the slope of his shoulders, your glare drilled a hole through the girls still watching from the nearby pillar. Without much consideration, you took the initiative to grab his unsuspecting hand and made a run for it.

Locking the classroom door behind you, your body slumped against the wooden frame, exhausted from all the extra cardio. You’re very much aware how short it would take for Oikawa’s fangirls to locate you; they were amazing in an unconventional way. There wasn’t going to be much time to spare to what you were going to tell him.

But how were you going to tell him?

“Hey, Tooru. My obsessive, pain-in-the-ass ex-boyfriend somehow found my phone number and he’s threatening to dump you into the ocean if I ignore him.”

You sighed. And you called yourself ‘creative’…

“Geez, Y/N… I knew you were one for games, but at least you gotta tell me what we’re playing.”

You almost forgot your boyfriend stood before you, arms crossed, a serious look dabbling across his features. “Is there something wrong, Y/N-chan?”

A lump of doubt rose in your throat, the truth threatening to spill out of your mouth. You couldn’t tell him. Not now at least. Maybe not ever. If you told him, you knew he’d try to spur up some bold solution that’d end up in some hot mess. Sure, the previous messes were fine to begin with, but this was your ex-boyfriend in question. Your obsessive, pain-in-the-ass ex-boyfriend. Were you really going to risk Tooru for the truth? What would become of him in the end?

“I-I…” you struggled, gaze fixed onto the wooden slats of the floor.

“…”

“I want to br-break up. I-I don’t think we’re going to work out…”

“……”

Say something, you idiot. You were quick to notice the brightness in Oikawa’s eyes disappear, like stars fading away at the wake of daylight. It was for the best, you repeated to yourself. For Tooru. There was no need for you to grovel in your despair.

“I can fix it, Y/N. Tell me how to fix it so…” he finally spoke, desperation clinging onto his pleas, “…s-so I can keep liking you…”

Your lips fell into a flat line, trembling at the sorry soul that was Aoba Johsai’s prized Oikawa Tooru. You wanted to cry, kneel with him on the ground, embrace him like nothing would ever come between the two of you. You wanted to tell him, I’m doing this to protect you! or I don’t want you to get hurt. But you left. It was the only thing you could do anyway.

“Y/N! Wait, please! I-I…”

His cries dissolved into white noise as your feet carried you out of the classroom, bringing Oikawa Tooru’s sure survival along with you.

Were you really going to end it like this? Letting the bad guy get what he wanted? You knew this wasn’t a shoujo manga, it was a seriously dangerous situation and submerging Oikawa deeper into your past wasn’t going to cauterize any wound.

Now, walking down the school halls led you into a cesspool of bitterness—where Oikawa wept, the entire student body wept with him. They made a point to even make sure you overheard their whispers under any circumstances. This was your punishment and you were willing to accept it.

For Tooru, you breathed, catching a glimpse of a trio of students sporting the Volleyball Club jacket talking quietly amongst themselves near the student restrooms. You recognized one of them as Iwaizumi, Oikawa’s childhood friend who probably would be able to take care of him without you.

“I don’t think we’ll structurally survive with the Captain’s emotional state,” one first year muttered. “H-he’s been pushing himself to the limit lately, I’m worried about him.”

“Geez, I haven’t seen him sulk like this since Shiratorizawa last term…” a pink-haired third year sighed, scratching the back of his neck gruffly. “Kindaichi’s right. Prelimins is in a few weeks, if he keeps all this stress training up then…”

“Then we support him,” Iwaizumi finally spoke.

Both the players and you perked up at his statement. Edging closer to the wall, you made sure the three didn’t catch you slipping your ears into their conversation.

“Oikawa’s a mess right now and our focus shouldn’t be on the cause nor the effect. We’re Aoba Johsai’s trustworthy volleyball team; our focus now should be Preliminaries,” he continued.

“I know Oikawa knows his boundaries as well as his priorities. I trust that he does. That’s why we can’t falter in front of him.”

Trust. It was something you always gave to others. You trusted your parents with your existence. You trusted your teachers with your goals. You trusted Oikawa with your entire living breath.

But you never let anyone give that trust to you.

Was it why you left? It was a merciless act of mercy after all. Not all sweet things can be painless.

Detaching yourself from the comforts of the concrete wall, you and Iwaizumi locked gazes before you walked off into your uncertain future.

One last message. You told yourself. And through your eyes, you told Iwaizumi Hajime:

“Take good care of Tooru for me.”

[skruttet]

Little My is a Trickster God, Albeit One with Surprisingly Good Intentions

Okay well really she’s just super wise and wants what’s best for her brother and knows everyone’s secrets, but here’s some instances of her sneakily affecting the plot in Moominvalley or her Knowing What’s Up:

Episode 1 - This one’s very obvious since she literally says “you don’t have to be big to stand up for yourself, you know. haven’t you learned anything yet?” and after he finally stands up to her she says “at last! he’d finally woken up.” Basically she comes to his house, sees how scared Moomintroll is by just a gaggle of children, thinks “if he’s gonna be my adoptive brother then he’s gonna have to grow some balls” and then proceeds to annoy tf outta him to push him to finally stand up for himself. Also ends with her calling Snufkin “someone special” so like......she knows he fancies him.

Episode 2 - You could argue that her asking Moomintroll to annoy the Muskrat with her is really her trying to distract Moomintroll from his sadness as he misses his boyfriend, which is very sweet of her. She knows that Snufkin’s gonna come eventually so Moomintroll might as well have fun whilst he waits rather than just mope on the bridge. Ofc Moomintroll declines the offer because he’s dumb and gay.

Episode 3 - When Moomintroll tells her he’s trying to catch a wobblybug, she says “you want a pet you can keep in a jar and boss around. with friends like you, who needs enemies?”. Before the dragon and its symbolism of Moomintroll’s love for Snufkin even enters the story, Little My has hit the nail on the head and called Moomintroll out on his clinginess. She then says that he’ll just catch a bad cold and he sneezes almost immediately afterwards as a cloud covers the sun, driving home the point that she’s very very right (also if you take the God headcanon seriously then she could’ve moved the cloud herself lmao). Later she says “your dragon? don’t you mean snufkin’s.” but by that point basically everyone knows it prefers Snufkin so that’s not very remarkable.

Episode 4 - Her smiling and rolling her eyes at Moomintroll being gay at the start of this episode is very sweet, but then she gets jealous about the bark boat and decides to teach him a lesson. Since the beginning of the episode, she’s playing with the dragonfly that symbolises change & self-realisation, and she purposely sends it off like a dog - “Things can change, you know! Go get him, Fido!”. “Fido” then proceeds to fly around the bark boat, causing it to spin anti-clockwise and Moomintroll tries to forcibly make it spin clockwise, ultimately leading to the boat just sinking. The flood happens (Little My being a God?? she does say “what a beautiful disaster”), Little My is the one to suggest that they “jump ship” onto the theatre, she pulls back the curtain to reveal Emma, and Moomintroll eventually realises that “sometimes bad things just happen” and comes to accept change, or at least accept the fact that he knows he’ll be able to deal with it whatever life throws at him. She rolls her eyes again when Moomintroll tries to be cool with Snufkin and Fido ends the episode.

Episode 5 - Little My has been given what was basically Snufkin’s role in the comic; she immediately doesn’t like the golden tail and can foresee the effect it will have on him as it brings him fame and makes his head bigger (her quick quip about making the hat bigger is one of my favourite jokes from this episode) - “just wait ‘till the gaudy glow reaches his head!” & “yep, another puffed-up twerp”. She knows that deep down, Moomintroll is not his father and certainly not as full of himself as Moominpappa can be. She helps him realise this by fucking up the performance with the fan (she says “sometimes you gotta be cruel to be kind” which sums up the majority of her actions in the series v well), then passes the “make moomin realise” baton to her brother, when Snufkin and Moomintroll have that cute happy ending scene. When Moomintroll becomes the director, she winks at him (kind of their thing now since episode 1), and he smiles back.

Episode 6 - Moomintroll tells Snorkmaiden that he wants to go on a real adventure, but quickly changes his mind when the latter brings up their “future children”. Little My doesn’t seem to hear that bit but but she does hear him being a little bitch about it and making excuses for not sailing out, so she decides to once again take the story reigns in her hands and casts off the boat. She does also interrupt the others’ "romantic adventure” now and again but honestly they do a lot of that on their own, with Snorkmaiden appreciating her own reflection more than the natural wonders of the island. I love her casual “yeah” after snorkmaiden exclaims that she rescued herself xD She encourages Moomintroll to keep going forward with the barometer with a wave of her hand before following him, and they experience the strange beauty of the storm together.

Episode 7 - Sibling! Crime! Time! Little My doesn’t seemingly bring the work basket to Snufkin on purpose, but it is rather fateful that it’s what she arrived in, and holds the hattifattener seeds that are so perfect for Snufkin’s plan. She watches him like he’s a bloody maniac when he’s cooing over the freshly grown hattifatteners as if they were his children, and I think that’s when it clicks in her head that maybe what he told her about “needing his space” might have some exceptions.  She wants him to realise this himself so he can open up more to people Moomintroll and in the process realise that leaving Moomintroll at the party without saying anything was wrong of him to do. The woodies give her the perfect opportunity to do this as well as being incredibly amusing for her to watch him struggle with them, and so she makes sure he doesn’t separate himself from them. When he feeds them beans, she repeats his own words back to him: “every now and again, just for a while, I need my space” before laughing. She spies on Moomintroll and Snorkmaiden having their bonfire, I believe to ensure that they do get arrested, then tells Snufkin about the arrest so that he’ll go and rescue them (she even says it’s “thanks to you”, already sowing the guilt seed that’ll lead to him feeling guilty for leaving moomintroll at the party). As she leaves, we get confirmation that everything is coming together as she planned - “perfect! all the nasty little loose ends neatly tied up.”

Episode 8 - Little My actually doesn’t have much agency over the story in this episode, since the majority of the episode is being a story told by Moomintroll, so she isn’t given as much freedom over her own role in it as she usually would have. She does say “you’re just like your potty father” which inspires Moomintroll to become the hero of the story, though it doesn’t seem like that was the desired effect of her words lol. There’s a funny part where there’s a freeze-frame of the plant attacking them, but Little My just walks away with a roll of her eyes xD And she does go along with being the “trusty chimp”, despite her complaints. She also realises that the plants are dying because the sun is setting.

Episode 10 - Little My clearly knows that their messy happiness is better than depressing cleanliness - “I think everybody’s gone clean out of their-” after Fillyjonk says they must be much happier.

Episode 11 - Little My is the one who tells Moomintroll that their house is haunted, but otherwise her role in this episode is just teasing her brother mercilessly as usual. She’s also called “terrifying” by a ghost.

Episode 12 - She’s kind of terrible at knowing what’s best in this episode, however she IS right when she says “you’ll never have a face of your own until you’ve learned to stand up for yourself, believe me”. This ultimately becomes the thing that makes Ninny completely visible again - by pulling a Little My-like prank on Pappa to get him back for scaring her.

[redrisingreaper]

Ichor (fic preview)

Here's an excerpt/preview to the time-travel fix-it fic where (most) everyone lives/nobody dies, I'm currently writing. I'm trying to write it in snippets that when slappes together should form a decent-sized chapter (3000-4000 words). Hope this technique will work for me :) also this is totally not so i can give each snippet a title

So yeh Darrow's mind travels back on time into his body when he's buried post-execution, before the Sons of Ares find him. If you think it's written ambiguously, fear not, it's intentional (probably).

I'm not sure on the title yet. might change it later to something equally aesthetic lol

Unburied

Darrow wakes up buried.

Dark, red dirt surrounds him, chokes him. Blind panic engulfs him, but he retains enough sense to claw his way out, breaking his nails in the process. He gasps for breaths when he breaks out, damp air filling his desperate lungs. Through the haze of pain -his neck hurts, his back bleeds, but his head, oh his head is killing him- he sees the old tunnel he's in. The old tunnel. There's a flare next to his grave. The situation, as absurd and unbelievable as it is, slowly starts to make sense.

He's back.

He's back.

Or is he? What if this is some elaborate ruse? What if this is a dream? Darrow doesn't remember ingesting anything suspicious -Obsidian mushrooms, Purple drugs or other weird cosmic shit- but the solar system is vast and he is a man with many enemies, and many willful friends who wouldn't hesitate to mess with him and slip something into his food and drink.

His fingers dig into the red earth. Deep breaths. Deep breaths, Darrow. Calm down and wait to see what happens.

When the tumbler comes with the men in Octobernacht masks, he stays silent, choosing caution over that weird mix of hope and dread it drudges up in him. Shut the slag up and analyze the situation, as Victra once aptly said.

Where once he would've balked at strangers helping him, this time Darrow quietly curses as they haul him by his upper arms in the tumbler. His small, broken Red body is a foreign vehicle. Seeing Harmony again, even with her half-scarred face behind the mask, makes his sword hand twitch, but unlike their first meeting he doesn't say anything.

Silence, he has learned, invited curiosity. Which led to information.

"Lazarus," Harmony says finally, after a long stare, "You're a damn mess."

Darrow takes the scarlet headband out of his pants pocket and clenches it in his fist. He looks down at it and tries to calculate how many years it has been since he last saw it. Decennia. They feel like centuries.

"Home sweet home,” she says after they pass the checkpoint. And when they pile out of the tumbler, “Now time to meet Dancer.”

Dancer is as handsome and as old as Darrow remembers him. It takes all of his control to blink away the tears, to gulp down the words stuck in his throat. If this is a joke, it has to be the cruelest of them all. He's missed his steadfast, eternally burdened friend.

"You must be wondering who we are." Dancer says.

"The Sons of Ares." Darrow answers, and is infinitely glad his voice comes out steady, if toneless. Let them think him still shaken by Eo's death, by his execution. Better than they know the truth.

Dancer studies him, "You need a patch-up. Harmony, take care of him." Then again to him, "We'll talk when you're not bleeding all over the bloodydamn floor."

He ignores all of Harmony's attempts at smalltalk, and when those fail, at provocation. He doesn't know what to think of her, the indirect cause of Fitchner's death, Adrius and Roque's betrayals. Avoidance is working well so far. And her less than gentle treatment grounds him into the present. Present. He barely smothers a snort.

Right.

The antinac and the shower make all aches recede, save for the migraine plaguing him. It feels like his head is being split open. Darrow is gripping his hair when Dancer comes in with food.

"Bet you got a lot of questions."

Darrow frowns and forces himself to think past his headache, tries to remember how past him would act. Grieving. Angry. "Do they matter? Eo is dead. I should be with her in the Vale."

Well, that might be laying it on a little thick but they'll both survive his melodrama.

It's Dancer's turn to frown, "We saved your life, Darrow. So your life is ours. No dying for the dead today. Or tomorrow. Or any day from now on. You owe us. You owe Ares. Your uncle does too and he knows this."

"Is he dead?"

"No."

Darrow nods, but another lump has settled in his throat at the mention of his uncle. Uncle Narol. Long dead, shot by the Jackal. His last words resonate in Darrow's head, momentarily driving away his headache.

Dancer is studying him again. His bright eyes read him like an open book, drawing conclusions from the sorry sight he makes. Hopefully his align with what Darrow wants him to know. Then, like the first time, Dancer proposes the card game.

Darrow wins, although he's tempted to lose. Let another take his burden. Let another suffer in his place. But those are wistful musings, like how he sometimes wishes he could fly, or that he could breathe in space.

Dancer tells him about Ares, about the Conquering, about Rhea. He still uses the same damn flea metaphor as last time. Everything fits, except that this time, Darrow is an old, wartorn soul trapped in his first body.

Dancer talks about Eo, the martyr of hope, the symbol of the rebellion. Of more import in death than she ever was alive. "They call her Persephone."

"She’s not coming back,” he snaps, "So what does it matter what they call her?" Eo doesn't ever come back. But he does. Darrow, the reaper -unworthy, undeserving- does. Not for the first time, Darrow marvels at the unfairness of it all.

And then Dancer takes him to the view that had torn his world apart, once upon a time. "You tried to die before,” he says. “Do you want to do so again?”

"I want..." to go back. To stay. He wants Mustang and his children and Sevro and Victra and the life he fought so hard for. He wants Ragnar and Roque and Cassius and Quinn and Tactus. He wants to change history, wants his dead friends to meet his children. He wants to do it again, but better. Can he? Will he? There's only one way to find out. "I want a world where girls like Eo don't have to die for a dream."

It earns him a sad smile. "Justice. I feared you'd want only vengeance."

He shrugs, careful to not stray from his young, impulsive, brash self, "Whichever comes first."

Dancer shakes his head but continues to lead him towards the upper floors. Finally they reach it. He turns to him when they near a door, the door, "Don't let this break you."

They enter.

And the city of Gold that sprawls before them brings him to his knees.

Darrow cries then, all his pent-up fear and guilt and anger pouringout of him. A dam with its floodgates opened. "A lie," he says brokenly, "It has to be a lie." He means his miraculous disastrous return, the lie he keeps on telling himself, but is grateful when Dancer thinks it's about the lie they've both been fed.

He watches the bright city through hazy eyes -eyes that are so lacking compared to his Gold ones- barely listening to Dancer as the latter explains.

Every Color has a purpose. Every Color props up the Golds. Red lowest of them all.

Darrow is inclined to agree. This body is... less. Nothing is as easy, nothing is as clear, nothing is as good as his Gold carved body. He feels like a wolf trapped in the skin of a rabbit.

The acrid smell of smoke fills his nostrils. Dancer has lighted one. The same bloodydamn Pixie with his gaggle of girls flies by. Darrow makes a stiffled noise. Madness. This is madness.

"What will it take to take it back?" He recites dully from memory.

Dancer smiles, "Blood."

Darrow stares at that smile, fatherly, but hiding a fierce beast. He thinks of what this means, a second chance,or something else. Something damning. A gift? Or a lie hiding behind the farce of one?

"Eo was right. It takes violence." He takes Eo's headband out of his pocket, lost so long ago. He feels the weight of it. Of Eo's dream. Live for more. A burden he thought shed in the years following Virginia's coronation. Now again his task is to bear it and make it come true. He looks up into Dancer's bright eyes, and realizes that it's quiet inside his head. His mind is free of any pain, and when he speaks again, it's with the clearest sight he's had since crawling out of his grave.

"What is my mission?"

[365daysofsasuhina]

[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Twenty-Six: ___ At Night ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata ] [ SasuHina, stalking ] [ Verse: Of Monsters and Men ] [ AO3 Link ]

There’s always a reason they say, “Don’t go out at night”.

An hour left in her shift, and already Hinata’s feet are starting to drag. A full morning of classes, and then a shift in the evening at a cafe just off campus waitressing leaves her exhausted. Thank goodness she only has to do this three nights a week.

Just one more hour, she tells herself. One more hour, and then it’s just a short walk home. Barely two blocks. So far, there’s been no hassle. It helps a fellow student happens to work the same shift, and even lives in the same dorm, different floor. They aren’t exactly friends, but there’s an unspoken promise to walk together.

Just in case.

But tonight happens to be different. The other woman’s down with a seasonal cold, and her stand-in is some middle-aged man that typically handles the mornings. Which not only leaves Hinata with a stranger, but...without her partner for her walk.

It’s been silently eating at her all evening despite her mental insistence that it’ll be fine. Hardly any distance to cover, she tells herself. You’ll be back in your dorm before anyone even notices you’re out and about!

It’s almost convinced her when a late-night customer shuffles in. Hood drawn over a cap and hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his long coat, he just has that look. But more than that...a feeling any woman knows.

Her coworker’s already busy with another table, so...she swallows down her trepidation, approaching with a smile. “Good evening! Table for one?”

“Yeah.”

“This way, please!” She leads him to a corner table, tucked away from most of the others. It’s quiet at this hour, only a few other people left in and eating, including a gaggle of teenagers who’ve been ruckusing for what feels like half the evening. But suddenly Hinata finds herself glad for the distraction. “Here you go - and here’s a menu. I’ll be back in a few to get your order.”

The way he eyeballs her, not even bothering to answer, sends up about twenty red flags.

Retreating to the back, Hinata hides in kitchen for a few moments, pretending to look for something. The portly cook, father of a friend, gives her a perked-brow look. “...Hinata…? Everything okay?”

There’s a pause, weighing her options. She hates to complain - it feels like she eats away at her employability when she does. “Um...yes, it’s fine.”

He doesn’t look like he believes her...but doesn’t pry. “Night’s almost over, you’ll be out of here soon. Just keep it up a little longer.”

“R-right.” After a few minutes, she brings the latest customer some water, asking if he’d like anything else. Still no answer. “Have you...decided what you’ll have?”

“Club sandwich. Steak fries.”

“All right, I’ll bring that out for you soon!”

From there, she tends to a few other tables, seeing a few guests out until it’s almost empty. Once the food’s done, she carries it over, ignoring the feeling of his eyes boring into her. “All right sir, here’s your order - anything else?”

“...no.”

“Please do keep in mind we close in about twenty minutes.”

Another bout of silence, ignoring her and taking a sloppy bite that almost makes her flinch. Eugh…

By closing time, he’s nearly finished. Already counting tips and doling them out, her coworker asks, “Should I make him go? Offer him a box?”

Hinata weighs that. “Um...I guess you can try…?”

And so he does...to no result. “Well...I’m gonna go ahead and start vacuuming, if you want to handle tables.”

“Got it.” Gearing herself with hot soapy water and a rag, Hinata makes practiced work of closing. And all the while, the hair on the back of her neck stands up as she feels that same gaze on her back, pointedly ignoring him.

So much for a safe walk home…

Part of her wonders if she should call someone, but...it’s ten o’clock. No one available is going to want to go out now...and anyone already out likely won’t be much help. So once closing is finished save for their lingering guest, she hovers near the back as the other waiter tries to get him to leave.

“Sir, it’s a quarter after closing. Staff would like to go home for the night. I can get you a to-go box…?”

“All right, fine.”

To her surprise, as he grabs said box, the man murmurs, “You’d best head out - I’ll keep him around for a few more minutes so you can get a head start.”

Hinata can’t help a jolt. “I...t-thanks.”

Hurrying and gathering up her bag and tips, Hinata makes her way out the back door. The light is a bit dim, but she scurries out toward the sidewalk and beelines for campus.

Unfortunately...he’s faster than either of them suspected.

“Hey.”

Not daring to stop, she tries walking faster...but a hand on her shoulder spins her around. An attempt to lift pepper spray from her pocket gets her wrist caught in a joint-crushing grip. “A-ahh…!”

“You always so cold when a man speaks to you?” he mutters, gross breath blooming against her face. “Look at me!”

“That’s enough.”

A smooth voice sounds behind them, and he dares to look over a shoulder. “The hell do you want? You a cop or somethin’...?”

“Interesting that that’s your first concern,” they go on. “Makes me wonder if this isn’t just a little confrontation that needs breaking up.”

“Ain’t none of your business. So scram, asshole.”

“It might have escaped your notice, but I can smell her fear. She wants nothing to do with you. I think it’s you who needs to scram.”

Eyes squint. “...t’hell you mean, smell fear? What, you a bloodhound and an asshole?”

Still unable to see whoever’s speaking, Hinata barely dares to breathe. It...sounds like someone’s trying to save her…? Is it a cop?

There’s a chuckle that sends a chill down her spine. “Bloodhound…? Hm...close, but not quite.”

Before she can blink, Hinata reflexively gasps as someone steps in front of her - where did they come from?! They grip her aggressor’s wrist in a way that releases his hold with a howl of pain. She scrambles back several paces before falling backward with a cry.

“Tch, you’re disgusting. Not even worth my time. You smell like rotten meat and onions...I can only imagine what you’d taste like…”

Breath catches in Hinata’s throat. T...taste…?

By now, still flailing in an unrelenting hold, the man following her is practically blubbering. “Look man, I’ll leave her alone - I was just messin’ around, I wasn’t -”

“I don’t give a damn what excuses you throw at me. Fear’s not the only thing I could smell...your intentions reek. Don’t bother trying to hide it. Now...what to do with you…”

“C’mon man, I -!”

“I could toss you in a dumpster with the rest of the garbage, but I doubt you’ll stay there where you belong. There’s a bridge nearby...maybe you’d like to go for a swim? Bathe off some of your grime…?”

“No! No no -!”

“Hm, you’re right...I don’t feel like dragging you all the way over there. I suppose for now...we’ll settle on letting you take a little nap…!” With a thrust of an elbow to a temple, the man goes limp, collapsing atop the sidewalk.

Hinata stares.

Her savior - if that’s what he really is - sighs with a slight bow of his head. “What a way to ruin the start of a nice night…” Turning, he gives her an appraising glance. “...are you all right…?”

“He...is he…?”

“He’s just unconscious. Nothing to really worry about. Besides...he needs a little reality check.”

Entirely confused, Hinata has far too many questions and no answers. “Who...w-who are you?”

“You can call me Sasuke. Most people do.” Eyes flicker to her chest, where her name tag is still pinned. “I suppose you can too, Hinata. Now, you should get up and head home. It’s dangerous to be out at night. You never know what kind of monsters you’ll run into.”

Staring for a moment, she shakily does as suggested. “You…?”

“Hm?”

“Y-you said something about…a-about smell, and...and taste…?”

A smile curls his lips. “Did I?”

“W-what was that supposed to mean?”

After a small pause, he takes several steps forward, not stopping until he’s half a pace from her. Leaning forward, Sasuke lets his smile widen. Within, gleaming in the dull lamplight, are long, shining teeth.

“...I’ll give you three guesses.”

Heart pounding, Hinata finds herself unable to move. What...but he can’t be...that’s not possible…!

“Your heart’s jumping like jackhammer. I think you need to get home and rest.”

“B-but -!”

“I’ve blazed a path for you. I suggest you take it before something else wanders onto it and causes trouble. And try not to walk alone...that was a foolish thing to do.”

She wants to rebuke - rebuke and question and argue, but he’s already turning around to leave. “W...wait!”

“Why?”

A scramble for an answer. “I...I didn’t get to thank you.”

He stops...and glances over his shoulder. “...I guess you do owe me...I’ll have to mull it over. For now...consider it an IOU. Now get going - I’ve got more important things to do than muck about with a little lost human.”

Officially perplexed and in a state of disbelief, she just...watches him go before glancing back to her route home. A few stumbled steps then lead her into a run. No one else interrupts her, and she makes her way into the dorm lobby. Her back crashes against the door, struggling to breathe.

...no one’s ever going to believe her.

     Guh, another late night...been a bit busy today, but at least it's done! A classic little instance of something supernatural. Seems Hinata's managed to attract the attention of your friendly neighborhood vampire! And just in time, too!      I don't write vampire crossover stuff too often, even though I enjoy it. It doesn't seem to do as well with audiences, lol - it's cliche, so I guess I can understand. But Uchivamps are just...too much fun NOT to indulge in every once in a while~      Anyway, that's all for tonight! I've got a few other projects to wrap up, so I'll call it here. Thanks for stopping by!

[eeridescence]

thoughts on sharp objects 1x05 "closer"

i like that this episode was essentially of the main characters trailing behind one another amidst the party crowd, meeting up in alternating pairs to have conversations to be had only with the other person. getting "closer". we see richard, camille, adora, jackie doing most of the trailing; the "roadblocks" would be those gaggles of former cheerleaders, no no no it ain't me losers, bob, ashley etc.

a few rewatches have allowed me to appreciate what had to be a complex choreography for an episode like that which requires a tight coordination of movements between characters whose paths would intersect. for instance: when bob and richard were talking and bob replied "(...) all im asking you to do is to lock him up, jesus, he's (john keene) right over there", bob points to his left in john's and ashley's direction, richard looks over to his right, and the camera pans to show john and ashley approaching camille while retaining richard (who's still observing) in the background. i just thought that was sweet, lol.

there are many other scene set-ups like that with the interplay of background and foreground, people interrupting one another and keeping an eye out on specific somebody's. some other instances of this theme which i like as well:

1) camille being stopped by the trio of dudes near the beer stand where richard was already queuing for, and we see him glance back a couple of times before stepping forward to offer camille a way out.

2) adora bringing richard into the house and jackie staring in the background.

3) i missed this on my first watch: as adora steps through the front door with richard behind, the camera shows amma and friends in the background standing by the doll house, and that boy's and amma's motions of putting the pill in their mouths were clearly visible.

4) vickery anxiously watching out for bob nash and john keene throughout the party, yet eventually failing to prevent a conflict.

regarding (2), i just want to emphasise something: adora deliberately split camille and richard up so that she could approach richard and invite him into the house. as adora was squinting at camille linking arms with richard, jocelyn + vickery approached her. after jocelyn said "you look beautiful, as always" and walked away with vickery, jones was approaching, and we hear adora say "jones, sweet girl...". with adora still in the foreground of the next scene, we see jones telling camille something, and adora watches on. this manipulation is completed when adora gets hold of richard, enters the house, then tells amma that camille is waiting to rehearse with her backstage (which is the message adora told jones to relay to camille).

my point is, the entire sequence above reveals the insecurities adora is beginning to have about no longer feeling like she has complete power over camille in their relationship, as the abuser. with camille appearing to trust and depend on richard more and more, hence possessing another source of emotional strength, adora feels threatened and sees a need to YET AGAIN devise an attack on camille to specifically undermine richard as a source of support. and as always, the most revolting thing is that she has succeeded yet again because camille was launched into a state of anxiety, and even THANKED adora for "not telling him about her self-harming" as if adora didn't fucking set this up the whole way, that sick fuck. camille, poor child.

[mcarfield]

This utter self-indulgence has been sitting in a word doc for days. I have no idea how Tony commentary and livestreams work and none of these reporters would be talking this much about a nominee and his “friend/date” but honestly whatever, it was a delight to write. I know nothing about Peer Gynt either, so all that commentary is probably woefully wrong. It just fit with the timeline. This fic was not written with accuracy in mind so suspend your disbelief for a bit. It was meant to be at least somewhat serious but somewhere along the way became a parody of social media eh.

LITERALLY I CANNOT WITH THIS FIC. I WOULD READ 80 DIFFERENT VERSIONS OF TONY NIGHT LIKE THIS AND 80 DIFFERENT RED CARPETS WITH THESE TWO AHHHHHHHH

ALSO:

@mcarfields  WHATEAHGDAJKGHK WHAT JTUST HAPPENDNE

^ THIS PERSON IS ME LOLOLOL <333333333

The Tony Awards @TheTonyAwards  And the #TonyAwards Red Carpet has officially begun! Tune in to @NY1 to see arrivals, interviews and more Red Carpet coverage.

Deadline Hollywood Livestream of 2020 Tony Awards, courtesy of Nordstrom and hosted by Maya Reynolds and Michael Thomas:

MR: And the Red Carpet has officially begun. 

MT: Various members of New York theater and arts elite have begun to arrive at Radio City Music Hall in New York City for the 74th Annual Tony Awards wearing stunning ball gowns and tuxes. Who should we look out for this year, Maya?

MR: This year’s a competitive one, Michael, but it’s certain that all eyes are on the Scottish James McArdle, this year’s breakout star in a Jonathan Kent adaption of Ibsen’s Peer Gynt. McArdle won American acclaim in 2018 for his performance as Louis Ironson in Tony Kushner’s epic two part play Angels in America but this is the first year he’s been recognized by the American Theater Wing… [Goes on to discuss other stars and favorites]

MT: Thanks, Maya, for the brief summary of who to look out for. Let’s take a look at the Red Carpet to see who’s arrived.

prior walter stan @andygarfields  OMG OMG I THINK I SAW ANDREW ARRIVING

lizzy @rainyday  anyone happen to see who james mcardle arrived w?? saw him putting his hand out to someone in the car but the stream cut before i saw who it was :/

emily @bwaystan  @rainyday didn’t see who it was but was definitely a guy. wearing a black suit i think? ugh did anyone see his face?

James McArdle News @jmcardlenews James has arrived at the Tony’s in a stunning dark blue tux [Attached: Two photos of James leaving his car and walking to the Red Carpet]

MR: And some of the Best Leading Actors in a Play have arrived. Leading the pack is Nathan Lane for his…[Goes on to discuss Lane’s role]. And here comes James McArdle, greeting Lane with a hug. Lane and McArdle were co-stars in the 2017 National Theatre production of Angels in America and both were involved in the 2018 Broadway Transfer. Warm smiles all around. 

MT: Andrew Garfield is not far behind McArdle in greeting in Lane. Curious that Garfield is in attendance tonight. He is not nominated for anything this year and isn’t presenting, but there is Oscar buzz for his performance in Guillermo Del Toro’s upcoming project. 

MR: Garfield and McArdle have remained close friends since working together in 2018. They have both become regulars at each other’s premieres and performances. 

emily @bwaystan  DID ANYONE SEE IF JAMES ARRIVED WITH ANDREW? he’s wearing blue but cant find any pictures of the guy who got out of the car with james so annoying

Andrew Garfield Source @agarfieldsource  @bwaystan Can confirm that James and Andrew arrived together. 

prior walter stan @andygarfields  HOLD UP JAMES TOOK ANDREW AS HIS DATE??? im dead

MR: Thanks for the fashion update, Michael. Back to the Red Carpet interviews. James McArdle is now reaching the step and repeat. Michael, care to tell us about what he’s wearing?

MT: Sources tell us McArdle is wearing Versace tonight and looking very dapper in it. Dark blue seems to be his signature at these events.

MR: And here comes Michael Arden with husband Andy Mientus on his arm. Tell us about what they’re wearing, Michael.

TONYS TONIGHT @jamesmcardles  JAMES KILLED THE STEP AND REPEAT LOOK AT HIM IM SO EMOTIONAL [Attached: Three photos of James, looking stunning in deep cobalt blue with hair artfully disheveled]

MR: McArdle has returned to the step and repeat with Garfield, posing for pictures together.

MT: They’re rather touchy tonight. Garfield is wrapping his arms fully around McArdle now, clearly saying something to make McArdle laugh.

MR: Garfield just adjusted McArdle’s bowtie in a touching show of affection.

MT: Garfield has gone off to make small talk and McArdle is finishing up his photos, making his way to the gaggle of reporters clambering for an interview with the actor. 

MR: Is it me or does he look somewhat surprised at how many people want to talk to him?

MT: He definitely does, Michael. McArdle of course looked criminally handsome at the step and repeat but you can tell he is not yet accustomed to this attention. Just another reason why he’s so likable. 

MR: McArdle sidesteps reporters to rejoin Garfield, who has been standing off to the side chatting with good friend Carey Mulligan, who is presenting tonight. 

MT: Garfield dutifully kisses McArdle on the cheek in a show of support. It seems McArdle and Mulligan have met before, judging by their familiar greeting.

MR: Ah, Ben Platt has arrived. He’ll be presenting… [Goes on to discuss other arrivals]

TONYS TONIGHT @jamesmcardles  DID ANYONE ELSE SEE THAT CHEEK KISS?? 

emily @bwaystan  y’all know I’m not one for conspiracy theories…but andrew and james are awfully cuddly tonight…

Vanity Fair @VanityFair  Watch our interview with Best Leading Actor in a Play nominee, James McArdle, on the Tonys Red Carpet. [Attached: Video, James standing with reporter in crowd on the Red Carpet] Transcript of Vanity Fair Interview: Interviewer: Congratulations on your nomination, James! JM: Thank you, thank you. Interviewer: How does it feel to be here at the Tony’s with a nomination? JM: Well, I try not to bog myself down with awards and all that, focus on the work. But it does feel brilliant to have the recognition, I’m very grateful the play is getting the attention it deserves. The cast and crew is truly just so talented and they work so hard, so I’m very pleased that this is all happening. Interviewer: You’re based in Glasgow still, correct? How does it feel to live in New York again? JM: Much better than it did last time, to be quite honest. I’m stayi—I’ve got a nicer apartment now, I made the mistake of living uptown last time. Downtown is calmer, to me. I don’t like the crowded streets, the smell, eurgh. Interviewer: Thinking about staying longterm? JM: [Laughs but does not answer the question] Interviewer: What do you like about New York? JM: Well, often I’m really here for the people, or specific people. I do like the anonymity you get in a crowd here. And the food! So much cheap food everywhere. Hazardous to my health, but… Interviewer: You’ve attended the Tonys once before, yes? JM: [Nods] [Behind him, Andrew appears, whispering something in his ear. James grins and says something back, his hand over his mouth. The interviewer watches, rapt.] Interviewer: What’s changed between now and then, apart from the obvious? McArdle: [Clearly distracted] Umm…Well…Sorry, what was the question? Interviewer: Does it feel different to be here now with a nomination than before when you were not nominated, in what felt to many like a mistake? McArdle: Oh, it absolutely feels different. Lots more attention on me now, which is something to adjust to. I try to keep my head down, do my work, but with all the cameras and everything…Well, it’s a lot. Last time, it was more relaxed, I wasn’t in the spotlight. I quite enjoyed the parts where there weren’t cameras in my face. Interviewer: [Laughs] Well then, one more question before you go, so we don’t keep this camera in your face for too long. Any advice for struggling, aspiring actors and actresses? JM: Don’t take roles because they’ll make you famous, take roles that mean something. Of course, sometimes you’ve got to take roles because a role is a role and you need rent. I’ve done that a lot through my career. But once you have the privilege of choice, prioritize the work, not the career. Interviewer: Thanks so much, and good luck tonight! James: [Absentminded, already turning away to talk to Andrew] Thank you!

TONYS TONIGHT @jamesmcardles  lol did anyone see that vanity fair interview? james was so out of it, whats up w him lmao?

tony night!! @mcarfields  @jamesmcardles andrew was totally distracting him, what did he say to him?

prior walter stan @andygarfields  andrew and james look sooooo good tonight holy shit?? and what did andrew say to james in that interview, can anyone read lips?

emily @bwaystan  ok someone has to find out what andrew was saying to james I’m dying of curiosity!

Andrew Garfield Source @agarfieldsource  Andrew has yet to have an interview, but he did crash James McArdle’s interview with Vanity Fair, though we can’t determine what he said to James.

TONYS TONIGHT @jamesmcardles  also, anyone else notice how james didn’t answer when they asked if he was staying in nyc longterm? hmmm…

MT: I hate to bring up the dreaded internet, but it seems that Twitter has blown up with speculation about Andrew Garfield and James McArdle since Garfield interrupted McArdle’s interview and distracted McArdle quite noticeably. Questions about the nature of their friendship have been raised over the past two years, but have never been taken very seriously.

MR: Garfield has hinted that he is perhaps not straight in several articles this year, including one with OUT Magazine, but has yet to confirm anything explicitly.

MT: Looks like a new hashtag has surfaced tonight: #McArfield

MR: Moving away from rumors…

MT: Kelli O’Hara has arrived, looking gorgeous in red [Goes on to talk about O’Hara]

tony night!! @mcarfields  ok i slowed down some gifs from the vf interview, but still can’t tell what andrew said to him!

emily @bwaystan  @mcarfields wait is that james blushing?

tony night!! @mcarfields  @bwaystan YES I THINK IT IS

emily @bwaystan  @mcarfields WHAT DID ANDREW SAY

tony night!! @mcarfields  @bwaystan lets make #WhatDidAndrewSay trend tonight lol

BroadwayWorld @BroadwayWorld  Eight times James McArdle stopped our hearts at the Tony’s Red Carpet [Attached: link to article including various pictures of James looking incredibly handsome on the Red Carpet]

Entertainment Weekly @EW  Surprised to see Andrew Garfield at the Tony Awards tonight? So were we! Check out our interview with the Tony winner here. [Attached: video, Andrew on the Red Carpet with reporter] Transcript of EW interview: Interviewer: Andrew, good to see you here tonight! AG: Good to see you too, good to see you too… Interviewer: Last time we saw you at the Tony’s was when you were nominated for your performance as Prior Walter in the 2018 revival of Angels in America. What’s it like coming without the stress of a nomination? AG: Oh, well I was just happy and lucky enough to be nominated then, and I’m equally happy to be here now, supporting my—erm—friend James McArdle. Interviewer: You and James became friends during Angels, right? AG: We did, we did. That play really bonded us all together, I think we became a peculiar type of family, really. Of course, after it ended, we didn’t want to see each other ever again. [Laughs] But then after a bit of a break from each other, when we see each other again, it’s like we’re one big family. I love them all very much. And I’m really just so proud of James and so happy he’s getting the recognition he deserves. Interviewer: I’ll bet. Have you seen the show? AG: Oh yeah. I’ve seen it about five times now. It’s a truly amazing production. Interviewer: So, are you presenting anything tonight? AG: No, I’m not. Just here for support. Interviewer: You’re such a good friend. AG: [Laughs] Well, thank you, I suppose? Interviewer: No problem! What’s next for you? AG: Well, I’ve got Guillermo’s movie coming out soon and after that’s finished, I’d like to return to theater, so I’ve got a few things lined up. Interviewer: In New York? AG: Afraid I can’t say… Interviewer: Such a tease! AG: Sorry, sorry! It’s all very secret right now. But I am very excited for the project. Interviewer: What’s your one piece of advice for award shows, whether you’re nominated or not? AG: Eat! Eat lots of protein. There’s so much champagne at these things and you end up forgetting to eat and then it’s past midnight and you’re at the Carlyle and well…I won’t get into it. Interviewer: The afterparty is quite famous… AG: Oh it’s a good time. Interviewer: Are you going to attend? AG: Tonight? Who knows? As I get older, my energy for those things wanes…The person I’m seeing and I, we’re much more inclined towards dinner parties and movie nights now. It’s quite boring. Interviewer: You’re seeing someone? AG: [Nods, looks around] I am. Interviewer: Is it recent? AG: [Smiles at someone behind the camera] Not really. Interviewer: You don’t look like you’re going to tell us. AG: [Laughs] I probably won’t. Interviewer: [Laughs] That’s cruel! AG: I’m sorry! Interviewer: Well, I’ll pester you about it later. Have a good time tonight. AG: You too, thanks.

Andrew Garfield Source @agarfieldsource  CONFIRMED: Andrew is seeing somebody, it isn’t new, but he has yet to say who it is.

tony night!! @mcarfields  i cant be the only one who picked up on the lack of gender in andrew’s answer right?

MT: Andrew Garfield has created a bit of a stir tonight by admitting he’s in a relationship but has yet to say who it’s with.

MR: Looks like the guests are streaming into Radio City Music Hall now. The show starts in about ten minutes.

MT: Let’s take a look inside the theater where guests are taking their seats.

The Tony Awards @TheTonyAwards  Welcome to the 74th Annual Tony Awards! Tune in only on @CBS for the whole show.

Andrew Garfield Source @agarfieldsource  Andrew is sitting in the center left beside his friend and date James McArdle. Look out for a blue tux and you’ll find him. [Attached: Two screenshots of a stream, zoomed in on Andrew and James, heads bent together. The second photo reveals Andrew to be beaming at James.]

tony night!! @mcarfields  holy shit when the camera panned across the theater i screenshotted james and andrew and i swear that’s james’s hand on andrews leg [Attached: Very blurry photo zoomed in on James and Andrew. James’s hand is just barely noticeable on Andrew’s knee.]

TONYS TONIGHT @jamesmcardles  I’m so relieved james’s award is early I can’t handle the stress

MR: Our first award tonight is Best Leading Actress in a Play. A very competitive category this year.

[Twenty minutes later]

emily @bwaystan  AHHHHH HERE IT COMES

TONYS TONIGHT @jamesmcardles  if james doesn’t win i’ll eat my own foot then the entire american theater wing

tony night!! @mcarfields  I’m so nervous and excited james better win ugh

MT: And one of the hotly anticipated awards of the night approaches: Best Actor in a Play. We’ve got some great contenders in his category.

MR: Here comes Bernadette Peters with the envelope…

The Tony Awards @TheTonyAwards  Congratulations to James McArdle for his first Tony win! [Attached: Photo of James in character with loopy type beside it reading: Winner! Best Leading Actor in a Musical James McArdle, Peter Gynt

TONYS TONIGHT @jamesmcardles  TONY AWARD WINNER JAMES MCARDLE

MR: McArdle really did have a spectacular performance this year.

MT: Agreed. He does deserve this award. And—

MR: Oh, that was unexpected.

MT: Quite.

tony night!! @mcarfields  WHATEAHGDAJKGHK WHAT JTUST HAPPENDNE [Attached: Four screenshots of stream, close ups of Andrew leaping to his feet at the announcement, followed by James joining him in standing. The last one is Andrew with his arms wrapped around James in a deep kiss.]

emily @bwaystan  holy fucking shit.

prior walter stan @andygarfields  did that just happen.

Entertainment Weekly @EW  BREAKING: Andrew Garfield and James McArfield share a congratulatory kiss after McArdle’s Tony win

Olivia @oliviag  is andrew garfield dating that guy or what?

tony night!! @mcarfields  CONFIRM THEYRE DATING YOU COWARDS AGHGHDG THAT KISS

MT: A good speech by McArdle upon winning his first Tony. Clearly a very genuine and humble guy.

MR: I look forward to seeing his future work.

TheaterMania @theatermania  Click here to see pictures of THAT kiss at the Tony’s everyone’s talking about. [Attached: Link to article]

tony night!! @mcarfields  SOMEONE RELEASE JAMES’S POST WIN PRESS CONFERENCE

The Tony Awards @TheTonyAwards  Watch Tony Winner James McArdle’s post-win press conference below! Excerpt from press conference: Reporter: Care to comment on your now viral kiss with Andrew Garfield? JM: Well, I suppose I don’t much of a choice…[Laughs around the room] How d’you mean? [More laughs] Reporter: Are you just friends? JM: No, we’re not just friends. We are together [Shifts uncomfortably] Reporter: How long have you been together? JM: I think Andrew and I would prefer to answer those questions at a later date. Reporter: How does it feel to have won a Tony? [End excerpt]

MCARFIELD CONFIRMED @mcarfields  MCARFIELD IS CONFIRMED WATHT TH FUCK

Andrew Garfield Source @agarfieldsource  Andrew is confirmed to be in a committed relationship with fellow actor and Tony winner James McArdle. [Attached: Four photos. The first: a photo from an EW photoshoot from the 2018 Angels in America press junket. The second: a photo of James and Andrew eating outside in New York, Andrew with his head thrown back laughing. The third: James looking on with a equally proud and fond look in his eye as Andrew is interviewed at his last movie premiere. The fourth: a higher resolution photo of James in Andrew’s arms from that night, eyes closed, lips pressed against each other’s, looking positively in sync and blissful.]

Local New York Trends:

#Tonys2018

#PrideMonth

#USWNT

#Beyonce

#McArfield

BuzzFeed @BuzzFeed  21 Times We Were Totally Blind to Andrew Garfield and James McArdle’s Love [Attached: Link to article] Excerpt from article: 4. [Gif of Andrew smirking on Ellen when she asks if he’s seeing anybody] That time we just thought Andrew was being coy for kicks but was actually seeing someone. 5. [Hi-Res photo of Andrew and James at the Oscars last year, James with a friendly arm around Andrew on the Red Carpet] When Andrew took James as his date to the Oscars and we just thought they were friends. 6. [Five photos taken on different nights on an iPhone of Andrew entering the stage door for Peter Gynt] The fact that Andrew went to Peter Gynt five times and every time went to the stage door and we thought he was just a supportive best friend. 7. [Photo of Andrew and James in the Mediterranean, laughing in the water] When they went on vacation together and we thought it was just a platonic trip. 8. [Two photos of Andrew and James standing outside the IFC Theater, looking up at what was playing that night] All the times they were caught out and about in the city and we never realized they were on a date. 9. [Photo taken on an iPhone of Andrew in a theater, standing and clapping with visible tears in his eyes] That time Andrew cried at opening night of James’s play and we thought it was just because the ending was sad. [End Excerpt]

broadway.com @broadwaycom  Watch our exclusive post-Tony’s interview with James McArdle and Andrew Garfield. [Attached: Video, James with his arm slung around Andrew’s waist and Andrew leaning his head on James’s shoulder, both facing the interviewer with punch-drunk grins on their faces.] Transcript of Broadway.com Interview: Interviewer: So, you two made the headlines today with your confirmation that you’re dating. AG, JM: [Laugh] Interviewer: Did you plan to come out tonight? AG: Not tonight specifically… JM: [Turns to Garfield] We’ve talked about it. AG: [Looks right back] At length. JM: Yeah, we made sure we were ready, and then I heard my name called and Andrew looked at me and— AG: [Shrugs, still looking at McArdle] I had to kiss him. Interviewer: How long have you been together? JM: Two years this… [Pauses] AG: Sunday. Interviewer: Wow, that’s a long time. AG: It feels very long and very short, really. JM: Yeah… Interviewer: Have you put any thought to where you’re going to put your Tony, James? JM: Oh, Christ, no. I just got it! AG: It’ll look quite nicely next to mine. JM: A perfect pair. Interviewer: Andrew, you played an iconic gay character, Prior Walter, two years ago. Why come out now? AG: [Pauses] I know I could have come out earlier. I don’t think my career would have suffered. But it was something very personal to me, how I got to the place where I felt I could acknowledge and embrace those parts of myself. And of course, it coincided with being with James and we felt we wanted to keep this to ourselves for as long as we could. I do feel as though people feel entitled to know things about my personal life that ordinarily no one would really give a s*** about. But with this, if I can set an example to young LGBTQ actors, wherever they might be, then I want to do that. For a long time I fooled myself into thinking I didn’t owe anyone anything. But I do owe the community a lot and I was able to come out and I got to the place where I was comfortable, and I had a lovely boyfriend by my side and there was really no reason not to. James has just been so lovely through it all, I count on him in too many ways and I love him dearly for it. JM: Andrew’s really been very brave through it all. He lives a very high-profile life and we’re very aware of that. Trying to balance it all is just a part of life now and he does it so well. Interviewer: You two are adorable. AG: [Laughs] Yes, I think so. Interviewer: What’s next for you two Tony winners? JM: I just got mine, can’t I breathe? [Laughs] AG: After Peter Gynt closes, we’re going on a much needed vacation. We’ve both been incredibly busy this past year and because we’re both based in different cities, we’ve been moving around. It’s been lovely to have James here for so long. Interviewer: Any thoughts about staying in New York permanently, James? JM: [Turns to Andrew with a smile] We’ve discussed it. AG: Which is really saying something. If James is contemplating moving to New York, you know something’s up. [All laugh] Interviewer: We’d be very glad to have you. JM: Thank you. Interviewer: James, tell us about the moment you heard your named called. JM: Very surreal. I hadn’t really processed it, I heard my name and thought, oh that’s not me but then Andrew was standing and everyone was looking at me and I realized, well, f*** I won, I’ve got to go up there and make a speech. And then I saw Andrew, and suddenly we were telling everyone about us and I had won a Tony and had to go on stage and cobble together my thoughts. Of course, I promptly forgot everything I had thought to say. I can’t remember anything I said up there, actually. Could have all been rubbish but [Shrugs] no one’s said anything about me making an utter fool of myself so… AG: You were very articulate and poised. JM: See, I have him to remember if I cock everything up. AG: We make a great team. Interviewer: That you do. Well, congratulations on your much deserved win, James! JM: Thank you. Interviewer: Have a good night, you two!

AndrewGarfieldOfficial [Instagram post: two photos. The first: James accepting his Tony. The second, clearly taken the morning after: James seated at a kitchen table, his Tony sitting beside the plate of eggs before him, looking at the person behind the camera with an unmistakably loving look in his eye and a soft, bashful smile on his face] Caption: In case you were wondering, I am so in love with this Tony award winning idiot. We are a proud two-Tony household now!

[shirtlesssammy]

13x21: Beat the Devil

Guys, we may have just watched Robert Beren’s last episode for Supernatural. I’m a little emotional about that, but am so excited about the possibility of Wayward Sisters.

Then:

Let’s do the time warp again!

Now:

Guys! We finally FINALLY get some domestic fluff. We’ve paid our dues and now the family is finally together, happy and whole. Sam, Dean, Cas, Mary, and Jack eating pizza and shooting the shit around the bunker’s war room table. Dean eats too much. Mary tells cute childhood stories. Cas judges his husband’s choices. My teeth rotted during these two minutes of goodness.

Alas, it’s just a dream of Sam’s. Let’s break it down --because we rarely get an inside look into Sam’s thoughts (let alone what he’s really thinking, and a dream can reveal things even he’s repressing on the outside!) He honestly has an open hostility towards Dean’s eating habits. His purity/demon blood feelings run bone deep. Ouch. He craves a homelife and Mary’s little stories about Dean’s childhood. He clearly sees Dean and Cas as domestic nuggets of love. He wants to save Mary --for her to recognize him as a hero. And Jack! Is part of the family. My heart.

Also, baby boy Sam really needs a bigger bed. If Dean can get memory foam, Sam can get a California King. Just saying.  

Well, with Gabriel on board, Team Free Bunker has all the ingredients and a witch to cast the spell to get them to AU land. Unfortunately, Gabriel doesn’t quite have the umph to produce the grace necessary for the task.

Cas makes the argument that they need archangel grace and they only have one source for it --Lucifer. Sam and Rowena are particularly distressed.

*Team Free Will Meeting in the Kitchen Alert*

Sam, Dean, and Cas meet to discuss their options. Sam is adamantly against finding Lucifer, but Cas makes it clear to him that *they* let Lucifer out and he’s *their* responsibility.

Meanwhile, Gabe is finding interesting historical materials at his local library #LOVE YOUR LIBRARIES EVERYONE

He’s also making excuses for his poor grace performance to Rowena. She wants to hear nothing of it.

So, like Boris is a complete Samwitch shipper (obv. after Saileen and Sody), but this WAS SO FUNNY. Why wouldn’t these two hook up? Gabe is all about that and Rowena deserves to get hers. But, yeah, what even is this script? Lol. Apparently Ruth and Rich ad libbed the voiceovers. I’m dying.

TFW decide that Lucifer is the best option, and they can use his grace indefinitely to keep the rift open. They run to the war room to tell Rowena and Gabe. They catch the archangel and witch in flagrante delicto. Omg, guys. Sam and Dean’s reaction is one thing, but Cas! I die.

Cut to Lucifer getting not-drunk on liquor at a bar. Harry Chapin’s Cat’s the the Cradle playing the in background (Ouch, please, please, please do not let his child turn out just like him.) The bartender is sympathetic to his complaints--- but not really! It’s Gabe! And Lucifer was drugged! And Rowena binds him so they can haul him back to the bunker for their plan to be enacted.

Once at the bunker, Rowena prepares the spell, and Cas cuts Lucifer’s neck to extract his grace. They’re going to slowly use his grace to keep the portal open longer than 24 hours.

TFW and Gabe head to the AU while Rowena stays behind to monitor (a very annoying) Lucifer.

Once in the AU they all take a bit of a tumble down a hill. Gabe ends up face first in Cas’s crotch. Awkward. And Show, why pray tell do you only cut to a reaction to --and a very interesting one --of Dean? No chill.

Cas places them about two days walk away from Dayton, Ohio, and Mary and Jack’s outpost. While walking, Cas and Gabe have an angel heart to heart. Cas asks Gabe what his next plans are. Gabe’s not sure. Cas informs him about how heaven is dying --heavily implying what Gabe’s next role might be. Sam and Dean have a heart to heart about Sam’s mood. I mean, it might be that they’re so close to finding Mary and Jack, but I think Sam’s just happy about the humidity giving his hair that extra curly bounce. On point even in a dying world. But seriously, Sam’s so happy to be so close!

Cue screaming. Hahahahahaha...nothing bad can possibly happen now!

They find a couple battling a vampire and take the monster out. The couple inform our merry travelers that there’s only two ways to get there --over the mountains via a very out of the way detour or under a tunnel where a whole nest of vamps are camped out. Samwise Gamgee gives a stirring speech and they all head for the tunnel.

And we’re back with Rowena and the archangel everyone voted as Heaven's most annoying ass (ask anyone in the garrison). Lucifer continues his serenade to Rowena. When it doesn't appear to be working he shifts his strategy, reminding her vividly how he assaulted and then killed her. Rowena can't tune that out and, to be fair, neither can I. It's so disturbing. It’s the casual taunting of a sociopath.

Rowena tells Lucifer that TFW and Gabriel are in the AU to go rescue Jack – and that they're more father to him than Lucifer will ever be. This makes Lucifer so angry that he powers up again and busts out of his cuffs. I'd roll my eyes, but this “anger power” was established earlier this season. Anyway, he grabs Rowena by the throat and pushes her up against the wall. Before he can kill her, Rowena manages a quick word of magic and casts him away. Lucifer flies across the room and straight through the rift.

Left alone, Rowena hastily packs her things and talks through her predicament. She's the only person who might be able to keep the door open but... “Au revoir, bon voyage, not my problem,” she announces saucily, ready to head out. And then she pauses, curses, and starts to dig through her book of spells for something to help with the rift. That's our girl <3

In the AU, our team heads into the creepy tunnel system. It's dingy and dark and before you know it, they find their first vampire. Sam kills it quickly and they move on, but not before another vampire catches their scent and begins to trail them. Another vampire attacks and they successfully defend against it. Guys, it's just like the Fire Swamp in the Princess Bride! They suffer a few dangers but it's nothing they can't handle, right? RIGHT? The team spreads out in a large junction of tunnels (not smart guys NOT SMART). 

As they're all split up and investigating different tunnels, a whole bunch of vampires attack. Damn it. These vamps may be feral but they don't appear to be total loners and instead hunt in a pack.

Floyd eats it in short order while everyone works to fight off the rest of the vampires. Sam gets captured by two vampires and one bites the carotid right out of Sam's throat. Blood gushes from his throat in quite a shocking manner. They must have strapped the blood cannon to his neck. The vampires drag Sam away down the corridor. Cas races after them.

Dean finishes off the last of the vampires and races after Sam, only to be stopped by Cas. To Dean's despair, Cas tells him that Sam's dead and that they've got to continue their mission. They don't have time to go after Sam. Dean is devastated and...I know this is all over Tumblr but it's SERIOUSLY HARSHING MY MELLOW to see Dean's face after this. The agony! (Curls up into a ball.)

Here, have a kitten instead.

The next morning they're hiking on the other side of the mountains and Dean is completely checked out. Maggie tries to thank him and tell him that she's sorry about his friend. He's barely responsive, lost in reliving watching his brother's death.

And so we cut to Sam. Or rather, we cut to Sam's body lying on the ground in some dead-end tunnel, his eyes wide and empty. Sam. Is. Dead. This show isn't fucking around.

The Dayton-bound team runs into angel warding, blocking Cas from going any further. Gabriel helpfully burns out the warding (nice job, man!) and human soldiers race out. It's the resistance! Mary enters the scene like a goddamn vision, greets Cas, and then heads for Dean. She pulls him into a hug and then asks after Sam.

Ugh. I'm sorry. Here, have another kitten.

And just as we're all single-man-tearing our way through our Supernatural-themed flasks (or whatever) Sam wakes up in the tunnels. He checks his throat and it's healed.

At first we're worried, thinking he's been turned into a vampire. (It's gotta be a bitch to hunt down your crazed vampire sire in the pitchdark tunnels of an apocalypse world.) But then Lucifer shows up.

Lucifer reveals that he brought Sam back to life. I'm so conflicted because it's a great explanation for how Sam might be resurrected. And yet...it's Lucifer. What a bag of dicks. Lucifer goes on to explain to a not-at-all-okay Sam that he powered up by eating a gaggle of Michael's angels. Ew. Lucifer. Not cool.

Sam's still in shock when Lucifer offers him a deal. Sam can lead Lucifer to Jack or he can stay back in the mine and die at the gaping maws of the ten or so rabid vampires who've gathered just outside the little room. “Join our monster RAVE, Sam!”

Sam considers it. I mean...he considers Lucifer’s offer. (Obviously he’s got a glow stick so he’s gonna rave a leeetle bit.) “You need me,” Lucifer tells him.

Elsewhere our heroes arrive in camp. Jack demands to know why Cas didn't bring Sam back to life. Cas isn't powerful enough – and neither is Gabe. Dean loads up on fresh water for a mission to go retrieve Sam's body when...TA DA! Sam walks into camp. He's shadowed moments later by Lucifer.

Let's get ready to rumble, I guess.

Alternative Quotaverse:

We've been avoiding dealing with him because we're afraid

The three amigos with their bro hugs, pep talks, and melodrama

I know you're trying to bait me with your seeming neanderthal misogyny. Anything to distract yourself from your profound, deeply emasculating humiliation. Sorry, Lucille, I'm not biting.

Not our world, not our problem. Right?

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