#im home chilling so the spiraling is going as well as it can be

[red-dyed-sarumane]

hi forfy ily ^-^

hi rottel ily too :3

[cozy-mp3]

bro this has been on my mind for awhile IM SO READY

So modern!AU with Ellie x Black fem reader where Reader is a well known rockstar, shit like the runaways, the pretty reckless, KISS, all that stuff and Ellie is like their #1 fan and is such a simp for them just absolutely over them. Maybe one day reader is stressed over song writing and ellie helps them relax? (fluffy nsfw lol) i’m not sure if ur comfy writing for switch!reader but i’d like that for reader but if ur more comfy with sub that’s ok!! ILYYY❤️

word count: 4k (ish)

a/n: omg i had so many ideas when i read this tysm for prompting! this definitely got way more plotty than i intended, i hope u don't mind! this is another fic that i started off thinking it would be abt 2k words but it spiralled a bit lol. i tried my best with the switchy dynamics but i still feel like i'm not great at writing them, either way i hope i did ur prompt justice nonny <33

MINORS AND MEN DO NOT INTERACT OR I'LL CRY

you’re going to die in this room, you think. you’re gonna die in this stupid recording studio, on this stupid pleather chair that sticks to your thighs in summer, spinning in circles just to expel some pent up energy, watching your stupid mug of stupid coffee going cold on your stupid desk. you pause your aimless spinning and sigh, planting your feet on the floor so you can wheel back to the desk and run your finger down the side of the mug. it isn’t stupid and you feel a little bad for even thinking it, no matter how frustrated you’re feeling, it was a gift from ellie after your first tour had concluded. 

it’s from one of those online printing companies and is covered in pictures of the two of you she’d taken on tour, a selfie for every city she’d told you. it was cheap, because she was too busy with uni to find a second job and back then music wasn’t paying many bills, the printing has faded a little over the past three years and you’re pretty sure it isn’t supposed to go in the microwave because everytime you put it in there it comes out so hot you have to pick it up with the edge of your shirt covering your fingers. you love it though, she’d handed it to you a couple weeks after you’d come home and the excitement of playing a different crowd every night had been replaced with your part time job at the drugstore and playing to the same groups of regulars at the same few bars downtown.

you run the tips of your fingers over one of the pictures of her smiling face, it’s maybe your favorite picture of her ever, definitely top five at least. she’s wearing a shirt that’s a few sizes too big with crew printed over the front of it in big white letters, she’s smiling so wide her eyes are crinkled up and there’s lipstick marks all over her face from where you’d kissed her. you were into black lipstick back then, so they stand out against her pale skin, you’re more into red at the moment and she doesn’t let you kiss her face when you’re wearing it. apparently, there was a time she’d walked into a lecture with a lipstick stain on her forehead and she hasn’t been able to live it down, dina had told you the story since ellie had been too embarrassed to tell you herself. just when you’re about to start searching for your phone to shoot her a text to tell her you miss her, the door to your studio opens and there she is, as if you’d summoned her or something.

“how’d you know i was about to text you?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at her in suspicion as you take in her appearance. she’s wearing a shirt from last year's tour, your face printed on her left boob, below your band’s logo, she’s put on her batman pajama pants that she’s owned since before you knew her and she’s wearing crocs with tie dye socks. she looks like she’s just rolled out of bed and come over before she could get dressed in more appropriate ‘going outside’ clothes. she looks cute and soft, a little bit ridiculous and all yours.

“my girlfriend senses were tingling,” she tells you as she closes the door behind her, rubbing her hands over her arms to get rid of the chill she’d caught walking the short distance from the car to the door of the building, “you didn’t ask what i had for lunch or dinner and then i sent you three thirst traps while i was at the gym and you didn’t respond to any of them,” she says, waving three fingers in front of your face dramatically, “and then i tried telling you i was studying so you’d say you’re proud of me and i got nothing,” she continues, standing in front of you with her hands on her hips, “so i was laying in bed waiting for my ‘goodnight, baby, i love you so much, you’re the best ever’ text and when i didn’t even get that, i decided that i had to come to your last known location to make sure you weren’t being held hostage or, you’re not, like, mad at me or something, ‘cause i’m pretty sure i haven’t done anything wrong,” she finishes, she’s panting a little from talking so fast and it’s a testament to how much time you’ve spent around her that you understood every word she said.

“you didn’t do anything wrong, els,” you say with a smile, just to see her let go of the tension she was holding in her shoulders, “and i’m sorry i haven’t been checking my phone, i’ve had writers block for the past two weeks and i’ve been trying to work through it but i just can’t,” you sigh, holding your arms out and inviting her into your lap, when you moved into this studio you’d made sure to get a chair large enough to fit you both, not that you’d ever tell her that. 

“that’s rough, baby,” she says, her face is sympathetic as she climbs into your lap, her weight is warm and familiar and she’s kicked her crocs off to hang her socked feet over each arm of the chair, “‘m sorry it’s been hard, label been breathing down your neck again?,” she asks as she wraps her arms around your shoulders and tugs you into a hug.

“yeah,” you mumble into her chest, your cheek pressed right up against your own face on her shirt, it’s well worn and smells like the laundry detergent you use and the spicy perfume you’d gotten her for her last birthday, “they want the album done in three months and we’ve only finished five songs,” you say, a frown pinching your brows together. it’s frustrating, not being able to work at your own pace anymore, to be lectured if songs don’t do as well as they’re supposed to, to be told that you need them but they don’t need you.

“i’m sorry,” she whispers, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. there’s not much else to say, she’s heard you complain about the label before, about how the execs in their suits want you to change in ways you wish you didn’t have to. the contract had seemed like a good idea when you’d signed it, even with the cut they’d be taking you’d be able to support you both until ellie was done with uni, you’d be able to quit your job at the drugstore and spend all your time doing the thing you love the most with your best friends. those things were all still true, you toured the world and spent hours in the studio, you could afford a nice apartment with security and a bathtub so big it could fit you and ellie twice over, you just hadn’t anticipated the deadlines and restrictions, the way you felt trapped but the most free you’d ever felt all at once. 

“your hair smells good,” ellie says above you and your mind comes to an abrupt stop, you prop your chin up on her chest and look up at her face, she’s smiling at you with her sympathetic i love you and i’m sorry and i hate that i can’t fix it smile and you know her well enough to know it was an intentional change of subject. that she’s here and willing to listen if you want to share, but she’s also offering you an out, something to talk about that isn’t stressful and a little bit more painful than you’ve been able to admit to yourself until now, when you’re sat in the place you love most with the person you love most, feeling like you could cry.

“it was wash day a couple days ago, i tried a new shampoo,” you tell her and she smiles a little wider, shifting around to get comfy now the conversation is veering away from anything too serious, “the girl at the beauty store recommended it, it’s so fucking expensive but it works so well,” you sigh with an exaggerated pout, you can’t keep it up as ellie squeezes her arm around your shoulders, leaning down to kiss your nose.

“it’s daylight robbery, baby, i’m sure,” she smiles, not able to keep the amusement out of her tone as she looks down at you, one her her hands shifting to cup your cheek, “you’re cute,” she tells you, using her hand to squish your cheeks together until your lips pucker up.

“i’m not cute, i’m literally in a rock band, i can’t be cute,” you tell her, baring your teeth and furrowing your brows into what might be a scary expression if your cheeks weren’t still squished together in her hand. you know you must look ridiculous because ellie starts laughing, her head thrown back and her shoulders shaking with the force of it, her hand lets your face go to hold on to your shoulder again, squeezing you gently when you laugh along with her.

“sure, sweetheart,” she says once she’s caught her breath again, her eyes bright and happy as she looks down at you, “not cute at all, whatever you say,” she nods with a slightly mocking lilt to her voice, she’s glancing between your eyes and your lips and you lean up to kiss her before she can kiss you, your hands holding tight onto her hips.

she sighs happily against your mouth and shifts one of her hands to the back of your neck, stroking her thumb over your skin, you don’t let her take control when she tries, nipping at her bottom lip and smiling when she groans against you. the kiss lasts a little while longer before you notice her squirming each time your tongue presses past her lips and into her mouth, you shift your hands to her inner thighs, squeezing the soft little layer of fat she has there. she moans into your mouth and you pull away to show her your smile, one of your hands letting go of her hip to gently pinch her red cheek.

“i missed you,” you tell her as she leans down to rest her forehead against yours, her eyes searching yours for a moment before they still, “was looking forward to coming home all day,” you whisper, your own face heating up at the admission, you look down at your lap so you don’t have to look at her, instead watching the way her thighs tense when you squeeze her again.

“missed you too,” ellie says, scooching as far into your lap as the chair will allow, “i know you had a hard day, but we’ll work it out, ok?,” she says with an encouraging smile, squeezing the back of your neck gently and nudging your nose with hers until you meet her eyes again, “i believe in you, and i know you can do it on your own, but you don’t have to,” she tells you, “you have your bandmates and you could call that one producer who worked on your last album and you have me, and i’ll help as much as i can, ok?” she asks and she looks so earnest you feel like you might cry if you open your mouth so you just nod, pressing your face into her neck so you can close your eyes and push back the wave of emotion.

“i love you,” you mumble against her skin, not knowing how to express your feelings in any other way, you know she understands because she knows you like you know her, she knows that you feel warm and grateful and so much better than thirty minutes ago when everything felt so frustrating and hopeless. ellie’s hand is steady and warm and it doesn’t leave you as she slides out of your lap, her thumb brushing over the bump at the top of your spine.

“come sit on the couch,” she says, her other hand tugging one of your wrists gently, “i can’t cuddle you properly on your chair,” she tells you, pressing a brief kiss to your lips once you’re up on your feet, “how long have you been sat down? it’s bad for you to sit all day, you’re gonna get bad knees or something,” she says as she lays down on the couch and tugs you to lay in front of her.

“don’t act like you don’t sit on your ass for hours at a time too,” you huff, gently flicking the end of her nose and smiling at her scrunched up face, “but fyi, i got up a few hours ago to walk up and down the hallway, and a little while before you got here i got up to make coffee,” you tell her, pointing over your shoulder in the general direction of your desk. ellie’s lips quirk up when she notices the mug and she makes a wounded little sound before cupping your cheeks and kissing all over your face until you squeal and push at her shoulders.

“you’re so cute,” she tells you again, her brows furrowed like she can’t quite believe it and her voice a little whiny, “stop saying you’re not cute, you’re the cutest ever,” she says as she tugs you against her chest and squeezes, her legs tangle with yours so she can pull you even closer, until your breath is mingling with hers and your chests are pressed together. you open your mouth to argue with her but she presses her finger to your lips and shushes you, “stop being hard on my girlfriend, she’s super cute, no arguing,” she tells you, yelping and pulling her hand away when you try to nip her finger.

you lean forward and kiss her before she can say you’re trying to maim her or something, it also disguises the way you were starting to squirm from her attention, you know she’d only call you cute again and that’ll only make you squirm more. she sighs happily into your mouth as you cup her jaw and rests one of one of her hands on your hip, squeezing gently. you can feel every movement she makes, when she presses her leg between yours so there isn’t an inch between you, when her breath hitches, when she decides she wants more and uses the hand not attached to your hip to cup your breast. 

“you gotta scooch back a little,” you mumble against her lips, resting your forehead against hers so you can look into her eyes and smiling at her when her hips arch into yours and she whines in protest, “i wanna touch you, baby,” you say with an exaggerated pout, “i can’t touch you the way you want me to if you’re so close i can’t move my arms,” you chuckle, letting her kiss your pout away before she moves backwards, her body squeezed up against the back of the couch so you can get a hand between your bodies. 

the couch is a bit small for the two of you and you have to wiggle around a little to get comfortable again but it’s worth it to be able to tug her shirt up and slide your hand around to grip her ass beneath her pajama pants. you pull her back against you with the hand you have on her, squeezing the soft flesh beneath your palm, she’s more muscle than fat and fits into your hands easily when you grab her.

“why are you wearing fucking jeans,” ellie grumbles as she works the button of your pants open, her fingers fumbling since she can’t see what she’s doing. she fumbles for a second more before she manages to pop the button, her fingers making quick work of the zipper so she can push her hand into your pants and cup you through your panties. she doesn’t do anything more than rest her hand over the shape of you, her mouth attaching to your neck when you whine frustrated.

“i’m wearing jeans because they make my ass look good,” you tell her, using your hand that isn’t down her pants to cup the back of her head, holding her against you, “stop teasing,” you say, tugging her hair until she groans and kisses back up to your mouth, pulling her hand out of your pants so she can use it to tug your jeans down your thighs. you wiggle your legs a little to help her, having to be careful to avoid kicking her in the shin since she refuses to move her legs at all.

“ok, there we go,” she sighs after she’s tugged them low enough that your thighs can spread for her, “i won’t tease now your pants aren’t getting in my way,” she hums, kissing the corner of your mouth as she runs her fingertips over your panties, pressing lightly over your clit. she smiles when you moan and presses harder, rubbing wide circles until you pinch her ass in retaliation, her hips jolting towards you to try and escape your hands.

“you said you wouldn’t tease,” you tell her when she gives you a betrayed look, though you pat her butt in apology and pull your hands out of her pants, “i’ll show you how it’s done,” you say, having to hold back a laugh at the way she raises her eyebrows in disbelief. you open your mouth to continue speaking but she tugs your panties aside and brushes her fingers against your bare cunt before you can, any words you were about to speak replaced with a moan.

she smirks, the way she always does when she’s making you feel good and she knows it, you can feel yourself get wetter with each pass of her fingers over your lips until they’re making a slick sound each time she moves. you drop your head to her shoulder and close your eyes for a second, just feeling her hand between your legs and her arm looped around your shoulders to keep you close. 

it takes you a moment to pull yourself together, but when you do you push your hand back down her pants, the front this time. she isn’t wearing underwear and you lift your head from her shoulder to raise your brows at her, she only shrugs and blushes a little, not offering any more of an answer than that. you kiss her warm cheek and then her lips because she’s right there and you can, she moans into your mouth when you brush between her legs, she’s already wet enough to coat your fingers and you can feel the hair she keeps down there is damp with it.

you rub circles over her clit with the pads of your middle and pointer finger, you aren’t kissing anymore though neither of you have pulled away, your lips still brushing together. her eyes squeeze shut as you brush over her entrance and she mirrors the action on you, the pad of her finger pressing into you slightly as you clench around nothing. you whimper and press your lips back against hers as you push a finger inside of her, curling and stroking against her walls, she’s tight and hot and wet and it makes you clench your thighs shut around her hand. 

she chokes on a laugh that turns into a moan at your reaction, resting her forehead against yours as she pushes two of her fingers into you, curling them into your most sensitive spot and only waiting a moment for you to adjust before she begins to move them. her lips brush against yours again but she moans before she can kiss you, her brow furrowed with pleasure as you try to mirror the pace she’s set, though it’s hard to concentrate on how your hand is moving when it feels like she’s working you to an orgasm already. 

“i’m so close, els,” you sigh, you can feel yourself clenching tight around her knuckles, the sounds she’s drawing from between your legs only getting wetter. she nods as if she already knew, her fingers moving faster as you press your thumb to her clit and begin to rub in tandem with your fingers inside of her. her cunt clenches around you tightly and she’s wet enough now that you can feel it run all the way down to your wrist, you smile at her flushed face, moving the small distance to kiss her again though the two of you keep having to pause to moan and whimper.

it doesn’t take long before you’re bucking your hips into her hand and detaching your mouth from hers so you can moan into her shoulder, managing to pant out another warning before you’re cumming around her fingers. your pussy gushes and ellie coos at the blissed out look on your face, she says something about you being cute but you’re too far gone to do anything about it, your brows furrowed and your thighs shaking around her forearm. 

“lemme take care of you,” you whisper when you’ve ridden it out, ellie’s pulled her fingers from you but they're still between your legs, rubbing lightly around your clit and brushing through your folds as you shudder through the aftershocks. your fingers had stilled as you came, your mind too occupied with your pleasure to continue pleasuring her, you kiss her shoulder in apology and begin to move them again. your thumb slides easily over her swollen clit and she grinds her hips down against your hand so your finger presses into her deeper, your palm almost flat against her body.

“‘nother one please, baby” she moans, her nails digging into your shoulder though the fingers brushing over your cunt are still gentle, it isn’t enough stimulation to be uncomfortable so you don’t move to push her away, but you can feel how soaked you are and you hope distantly that you’re not staining the couch. you oblige her request and push a second finger inside of her, she opens up easily with how aroused she is and she groans as you curl both fingers towards your thumb, rubbing against her clit more firmly. 

you can feel as her pussy flutters and her clit throbs, as her thighs tense and her brows draw together before she cums, her release coating your fingers thoroughly. she pants into your neck as you work her through it, shifting your thumb away from her oversensitive clit but leaving your fingers pressed as deep inside as they’ll go, massaging her clenching walls. 

the two of you lay together in silence once she’s finished, her breath coming out shakily against your skin and your chin resting on top of her head. she presses her legs together until you get the message and remove your hand from her pants, her hand still between your legs, brushing over your swollen pussy as she finds her voice again. she likes to do it sometimes, feel the mess she’s made of you, how you wet you’ve gotten for her. 

“did you eat dinner yet?,” she asks, frowning and pulling back so she can see your face when you shake your head, “baby, you gotta take better care of yourself,” she sighs with a pouty bottom lip, you resist the urge to argue that she’s just as bad as you are at remembering to eat when she gets absorbed in a project, instead kissing her pout away and cupping her cheek.

“how about,” you start, the persuasive lilt to your voice so obvious that ellie shakes her head at you, she looks fond now, at least, “let me finish, els,” you tut, kissing her again and brushing your thumb over the apple of her cheek as you pull away, “how about we go home and order food from that mexican place that’s open late before bed, and tomorrow i’ll work from home,” you suggest, “maybe i need a change of scenery,” you sigh, your brows pinching together in thought.

“sounds like a plan, sweetheart,” ellie hums, using the hand that isn’t messy with your cum to smooth out the frown you’re wearing, “we gotta clean off first though, you fucking soaked me,” she chuckles as you groan, embarrassed, and bury your face in her hair.

[petersnya]

sight for sore eyes|| peter b. parker ||

[part. 00; jealousy]

summary:: “I watch your eyes as she walks by…” you pause, tears forming as you remember the way peter looked at her- the way you wanted him to look at you, “what a sight for sore eyes…” || when the realization hits you about peter, it’s too late. but sometimes late is just the right timing… sometimes.

word count:: 1.5k

warnings(for the whole series):: friends>enemies>lovers, mature themes/smut, cursing, slight violence, lots of angst, fluff, clueless peter

warning(for this chapter):: cursing, angst, fluff

paring:: peter parker x fem!reader

[a/n]:: wattup! peter parker (and any other teens mentioned) have been aged up to 17 and turning 18 as the story goes on! i hope you enjoy this and make sure to let me know if you want to be tagged in the parts<3 also! endgame and infinity war did not happen for the sake mine and your happiness though out this ‘book’

“Your going down Parker.”

“Nah man, Im gonna—“

Peter was cut off but the vibration of his controller as you killed his video game character. Taking off your head set and setting down your controller with a calm, soft smirk spread across your face as your side of the TV had ‘winner’ written across.

“No-no! That’s not fair dude! You cheated,” Peter yelled towards you as you walked into the kitchen to grab a slice of pizza. Reaching into the fridge to get a soda, you felt your back being pressed against Peter’s toned chest as he grabbed the soda you had in your hand.

Opening it and taking a sip he chuckle at the look on your face as you turned around to face him. All he did was walk away, back towards the couch, falling back on to it as he picked up his head set.

The look that made the curly headed boy laugh was still on your face as you watched him. To him, you looked annoyed yet humored by him; but really, you couldn’t help this feeling you felt when you felt him against you. Redness began to creep up your neck but quickly faded as you shook the feeling he gave you.

He’s you best friend idiot. You can feel this way for him if all people.

“You coming?” Peter question, starting a new game. You rolled your eyes to make it seem as if you weren’t flustered but the boy a few feet away from you.

“Yea man. Ready to get your ass kicked agin?” You joked as you sat next to him.

“Haha- not funny.” He said with a straight face and a fake laugh that made you giggle as you shoved his shoulder with yours.

The whole night as you a peter played video games back to back, you couldn’t help but think about the feeling of his muscular chest against you. Around 1:20 AM, you and Peter had started to get tired. The boy next to you turned off the gaming console, slowly turning towards you.

“I got the couch, you got the bed.” He said, sleep lacing his voice. You wanted to protest, saying that you could both have the bed; but something stopped you and you just nodded your head, telling him good night as you walked to his bed room. His aunt, May, wasn’t home but made it very clear that she had an eye on both of you so you knew that Peter didn’t want to his aunt May to see you to in the bed together. Even if the two of you were just sleeping.

Laying in bed, Peter’s bed, you stared at the sealing not being able to fall asleep.

The smell of room sent your mind spiraling. Rolling over onto your side, you pushed your arm underneath his pillow as you inhaled his the sent. Peter was the only thing on your mind. The way he smiled, his chocolate hair and honey brown eyes, the light freckles across his nose that you could only see if you were up close to his face. His laugh made your heart skip beats.

“3:57 AM,” you read the clock sign with a sigh. You knew you should go to sleep; so you rolled once again, getting into a more comfortable position. Your eyes getting heavy as you drifted into sleep.

<<<<<<<<

A warm arm draped around your waist, fingers slowly sliding up and down your bare stomach from the shirt that lifted in your sleep.

You smiled softly at the contact, not thinking to check who it was. But the feeling a bare, muscular chest on your back made your eyes fling open.

Slowly, you turned your head to see who was behind you, even though you knew it was—

“Peter?”

“Mhmm,” he hummed back in response, not opening his eyes. You couldn’t shack the feeling of the chill that ran up your spine, and the goosebumps that formed on your body.

“Wha- uh.. what are you doing?” You questioned in a hushed voice.

“Hhmm? Oh sorry. The couch got uncomfortable. I didn’t think you’d mind though.” He said while opening his sleepy looking eyes.

“Oh no-I don’t mind.”

Peter removed his arm, turning with his back turned towards you. You almost whimpered at the feeling of his arm not being around your waist anymore.

Stop it [y/n]. This is Peter we’re talking about here. But why would he put his arm around me and not expect me to feel some way about it?

The thoughts ran through your head fast, the last on lingering for a while.

You and Peter were the best of friends. If he needed someone, you were there and vise versa. But you weren’t really that girly. So Peter didn’t think of you in ‘that type of way’. You didn’t think of him that way either. The two of you always called each other ‘bro’, ‘dude’, or ‘man’; but you still had that feeling of tingles and warmth—

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud, tired groan from Peter. The sound going straight to your core. Quickly, you got up and went into his bathroom— making sure to not make a lot of noise as you went, Incase May was home.

Looking in the bathroom mirror you stared at your self in question. You were a tom-boy. You were wearing a pair of rolled up basket ball shorts of Peter’s and one of his very large white Tee’s. You shrugged at your reflection,

“If I wanted to look all girly and ‘pretty’ I could be the hottest girl he would know.”

“Who’s he?”

You jumped at the sound of Peter’s raspy voice behind you. He only had on sweats and no shirt. All you could think was

Damn

“No one, just.. speaking hypothetically.”

“Your wired,” he chuckled as you grabbed a towel from the bathroom closet, mumbling something along the lines of, ‘I’m just gonna go shower in Mays bathroom’. You just nodded, going to take a shower of your own in his bathroom.

After your shower, you went into the kitchen where May stood, making coffee for the three of you. Peter sat on the couch flipping through channels.

“Hey honey!”

“Morning May,” you said as you say in one of the chairs at the dining table.

“Are you going to Florida with Peter, Ned and Mj?” She questioned, you nodded in response. The three of you had been planning this for a while now so you were beyond excited to spend time with you best friends.

You stood for the set you just took, walking over to Peter. He was wearing his usual jeans and flannel but this time had a baseball cap on. As you slumped beside you grabbed the hat and put it on you backwards. Peter chuckled at your childish act, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

The three of you sat in silence till May was done with the coffee. She brought it over to you and Peter, handing you the mugs. You thanked her as she walked away.

Peter’s and your phone got a text notification— the two of you checking it at the same time. It was a group chat with you, Peter, MJ, and Ned for the trip to Universal Studios.

Ned: heyyyy.. so Liz and Flash are also coming to Disney with us.

You and Peter looked at each other at the sight of what Ned texted. You watched as Peter texted back— his cheeks a blushed red color. You have known Peter long enough to know when he’s turning red from anger. This wasn’t anger. He was… blushing?

Peter: Liz is coming?!

You face fell at the text. Looking down at your phone, you glanced up at young guy next to you; but quickly looked away before he saw you.

Mj: yea Ned! Wtf are they coming for???

Ned: well I was talking about it to Betty and they over heard and kinda invited their selves… srry:(

Y/n: I’m just gonna ignore those bitches and go to Hogwarts like I planned.

Peter looked at, “[y/n], you don’t like Liz?” He questioned.

You shocked your head no, not caring enough to look him in the face.

“How dude? She’s so hot,” he said with a smirk. Your heart sank at the words.

What the hell are you acting like this for [y/n]?

Peter continued to text in the group chat. You silenced your phone— not wanted to deal with this right now.

You had never became jealous of anyone. Confusion over took you as you scrambled your mind for why you were jealous of Peter and Liz. You didn’t like Peter at all. Did you?

Did you like Peter Parker? The thought lingered for a while.

No. No I can’t like him and I won’t. It’s just wrong.

Those words that you promised yourself you would keep was the biggest lie you had told yourself. Peter Parker was like a drug—

How could you not get addicted?

I hope you enjoyed this ‘chapter’ !! Let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part!! :)

[vakta]

a little update about what/how i am doing lately . . . .

to put it short: my therapist and my parents dont let me go to school or stay in my dorm so im staying at home for a few weeks (at least); should be recovering, but i dont rly have the motivation to do so, and my digestive issues make it even more difficult

to not put it short:

so im not allowed to go to school bc i badly relapsed. its not a recent thing, ive been slowly loosing weight since october, when after an actually really seriously-taken but still failed recovery attempt i kind of lost my hopes for full recovery. (i can still imagine it in the distant future tho... but to actually start doing it now.... ehh..)

one of the reasons bc of which i have failed is the pain which comes after eating a decent amount of food, a bigger meal, or even smaller amounts of foods that i avoided for a long time. i got fed up (lol) with this, and decided that i would pay attention to eat less to avoid being in pain afterwards.

not a great idea, my friends, not a great idea.

it works in the short term, but it only makes your stomach even more sensitive, and shortly you can barely eat without pain, your damn safe foods start becoming scary, and you just spiral spiral spiral deeper and deeper and deeper into this.

and yes, you loose weight but at what cost?? (i think this applies to any ed that results in weight loss tbh) the weightloss was one of the reasons my parents noticed that something is wrong with me again (or still, rather)

the other reason was the stress. i had become so so stressed bc of this, and not only this, bc school, oh my beloved, just cant fucking chill. what makes it even worse is that there are only 1 and a half years until university and i seriously need to make decisions in relation to my future, but i never find the time for this with the every other thing that is going on at the same time (looking at my biology teacher.. but also no, he actually cares about me i think; im just a perfectionist who takes everything personally, even if it is directed on those of my classmates who dont study shit and dont even care, and not me who literally learns every damn letter for his tests) also i have an upcoming chemistry exam in spring which i also didnt have the time to really start preparing for.

the dorm was just the cherry on top, with all those skinny girls, and the ones who could never not mention their diet or weightloss or even just be quiet during the 'silentium' (the compulsory study time in the dorm). my roommates were always having fun, noisily, happily, while i was sitting at my desk, barely keeping myself together, so so angry and so so SO jealous of them who could enjoy their time. which i didnt have. unerstandable though, they are attending different, less strict schools and/or are 2 years younger.

so living in that dorm and going to school was draining my time and even more my energy, my mental space, my sanity even, and i was spiraling, like badly.

im honestly so grateful for my parents for not letting me stay in that hell for any longer. i have been at home since last friday, and i honestly enjoy it a lot. i have much more time now, i can sleep enough and study without rushing. it is nice, i could even try solving a few chemistry exam sheets from the previous years and it actually went well!! im really glad :D

though ed-wise im not doing so good. the digestive issues are the biggest problem rn. being in pain for hours after a meal just discourages me from eating tbh.

my parents made some rules: i mustnt do any exercise, only a little yoga (less than an hour daily, just twice a week allowed to be an hour long), and i mustnt walk for longer than 30 mins. i think it goes without saying that i can easily break the time-related ones, but at least while doing so i know im not supposed to do that, and i stopped exercising which is progress in itself (not huge but hey). there arent any eating related rules. yet. i say this bc my mom always checks my weight in the mornings when shes still at home when i wake up, and she tells my dad, who will soon get really angry if i dont gain any. he is already angry for my complains about my stomach pain, he says he is never not in some kind of pain (he is 50) so really i should just get used to it. but my mom told me he had told her he thought i should see a doctor with this, so actually he does care about me a lot, he just cant communicate it. me coming home was his idea too. he cant stand seeing me destroying myself and he only wants the best for me, i know that.

i can only stay at home for 4 weeks (with this one) otherwise i have to repeat this grade. or decide to be homeschooled from now on. this wont be an easy decision.

all in all, ive been trying not to worry much in the past few days but soon its time to think about what i plan to do in the future. and i should do something about my stomach too, it cant keep going like this. so, a lot of things to do, but at least im in a calm, supportive environment now (my mom is the one who is always there for me and im super super thankful for her). idk what will happen, i hope things fall into place.

i dont rly expect anyone to read all of this, it was just nice to type it out, but if you did then congratulations now you know my current struggles more than anyone irl!!!! (okay maybe except for my mom, but still)

[saltwatersweetner]

End Me

Eren x Reader

A Prequel of Sorts. Eren never fought for control preferring the security of your hold on him but you could never fully domesticate a wild animal it seemed.

Part 1 Part 3

CW: Manipulation, Toxic Relationship, Attempted Murder, Unhealthy coping mechanisms all in all mildly unsettling themes.

Eren knew how to be good—painfully so. He also knew how to be bad—concerningly so. He was a creature of habit. He did whatever he decided was best for him at the moment and maybe thats what lead you to your current stare down.

“Eren I said move.”

“Fuck what you said.”

Frowning you tried to think what honestly could have brought this mood upon him. It couldn’t have been because you were going out he always understood your random need to socialize. You also can’t remember purposefully setting him off, not in the mood and you weren’t completely cruel to ignore his random—even for him mood change—more in tune to your partners mood swings and emotions than you were to you own.

Carefully reaching out for him you raise an eyebrow when he moves away from your—for now—gentle touch “Are you really upset or just being a brat?”

“Stop talking to me.”

Huffing you choose to ignore his attitude and slip your coat over your shoulders just in time for a knock to be heard from the front door. With Eren on your heels you open the door for your friend.

“Y/N I called but you didn’t answer so I just came up.”

You get a flashback of Eren throwing a tantrum not even 30 minutes ago and launching your device from you 6th floor apartment “Yeah I dropped my phone off the balcony but lets go—Eren be good.”

His glare turns even more deadly when Reiner politely wraps an arm around your shoulders. Closing the door behind you Reiner laughs into the quiet hall “Be good? What is he your dog?”

“Something like that.”

Reiner was a friend an attractive one at that and Eren didn’t like it at all. He hated anyone that was even remotely close to you because you already didn’t like anyone but with Reiner it was different. You let him touch you and hold you.

Eren hated it, he hated it so much—and to make matters worse you didn’t care about his feelings—not one bit.

After a night of bar hopping and watching Bertholdt make a fool of himself in front of Annie, Reiner once again brought you home.

“It was nice seeing you, without your guard dog.” The face he made at the thought of Eren wasn’t a nice one.

“Aw sweetheart don’t be mean.” Reaching up you hold his warm cheek in your slightly chilled hand.

You knew jealousy when you saw it, could detect the slightest change of emotion when it was presented to you. He leans into your hold like a cat seeking out affection—much different than Eren’s wild way of seeking you out.

“Don’t be jealous my dear use your words.”

Reiners face was slowly moving closer to yours and you smirk in amusement. It would seem you had a knack for catching the attention for boys who were looking to be controlled.

“Y/N....”

Your door swings open before Reiner can kiss you and Eren is looking beyond livid. Reiner freezes his fight or flight telling him to run but you keep him steady with your palm.

“Were you waiting for me?”

Eren’s nod is slow and deliberate his eyes still glaring at the nonexistent space between you and the blond.

“Then that ends our time together, goodnight Reiner.” He shivers in what you think is glee from the acknowledgment of the time you spent with him.

“Goodnight.” He doesn’t acknowledge Eren any longer and hurries out to the elevator.

Turning back to the aforementioned boy you make a motion with your wrist “Move.”

When he eventually does get out of your way your hyper aware of the way he sticks to you almost like glue. Throwing your coat over the back of your couch you stretch and lead him to the kitchen.

“You hungry? All I’ve done is drink tonight I could really eat—“

He swings you into the wall by the neck. The alcohol in your system made it incredibly difficult to feel the pain you knew was blossoming up your back so all you could do was stare at the man before you.

You saw the endless sea of madness that unlike you he didn’t bother to cover up. Everyone found the look endearing on him like he never left that childishness behind but you knew the truth.

You could slowly feel yourself starting to suffocate. You didn’t bother panicking because as it had it Eren had all the power right now. If he or you moved the wrong way your neck was as good as snapped.

“Why did you let him touch you?”

Putting a calm hand on his wrist you try and fail to alleviate some of the pressure being forced down on your windpipe “Why. Does. It. Matter.”

Eren was breathing unevenly stuck between fighting his impulses and actually causing some damage “You’re mine you’re—you’re not supposed to—“

“Says. Who?” That makes him let go.

As it would have it you and Eren weren’t dating in any shape or form but he belonged to you. You brought him pleasure that he couldn’t find anywhere else. He was entirely devout to you and you only, all on his own fruition. From the moment he’d accidentally bumped into you and saw through the mask you wore. From the moment he stalked you from the moment he’d shown himself to you begging for salvation.

He wanted to play the game—wanted to be entertained in the morbid way regular people would get sick to their stomachs at—and you let him. You found him amusing enough to keep around but you refused to belong to anyone but yourself.

He was losing the game and fast. As his god you couldn’t be bothered with feeling bad for him.

“Now we can eat or you can sit here and starve whats it gonna be?”

Eren looked terribly unwell like he was about to fold in on himself “u-um eat please.”

You’d never seen him look so unsure before and it made you excited. How would he cry for you next? Would he try to fight more, yell and scream? Or would it be silent and broken?

Flicking your wrist you busy yourself in the kitchen “Good choice, go sit.”

He does as he’s told mumbling words to himself along the way. Was it cruel? Maybe. But you couldn’t be bothered considering how much of a thorn in your side he’d been all day.

You wanted to break him more and till he was nothing but crushed up stars slipping away in the wind. You almost felt bad for how much you were going to ruin him.

But he was your property after all to do with what you wanted. No one could stop you even if they tried. Especially because he let you and thats what made keeping him around so worth it.

You didn’t have the capability of feeling anything close to love no matter how fond of the boy you actually were. So you settled with ownership—they were damn near synonymous anyways.

So you proceeded as normal—well as normal as you are. You order the food you feed him and you move on to wash the dishes. He’d eventually get out of his feelings because he didn’t have the mental capacity to dwell on certain emotions for too long. It was all but routine now.

“Eren bring me whatever dishes you left lying around.”

“...ok.”

Filling the sink with a mixture of water soap and a drop of bleach you wait patiently for the boy to bring what you requested. Turning off the tap You almost get impatient when it seemed like he was taking forever.

“Eren—“ you’re grabbed by the back of the head and shoved face first into the sudsy water.

You try with all your strength to get your head out of the sink but Eren just doesn’t stop. He’d never...hurt you before? Never acted out in this manner it startled you maybe.

And you were slowly but surely drowning.

When he finally does let you up you drop to the floor taking in large gulps of air. Your eyes stung from the mix of bleach and soapy water and you were suddenly freezing.

“Dont,” you look up to eren to see he once again wore that livid expression.

“Dont you ever think about leaving me do you understand?” His breathing was already heavy but now it was slowly turning into hyperventilation. “I’ll kill you I’ll fucking kill you if you ever l-leave me.”

You watched him begin to sob, dropping on his knees he crowded closer to you looking every bit of the victim he made himself.

“Im sorry I’m good I’ll be good I swear!” He tries to touch you but you smack his hands away making him sob harder.

You knew Eren you knew him. His inclination of violence had never been towards you and yet?

“Hit me hit me hit me im sorry please im good I promise.”

Those were the only words that made sense to you in the moment. You were a violent creature by nature one who prioritized your own life before anyone else’s, you’ve never done anything you didnt doubt you’d be able to get out of and yet? Eren had surprised you and not in a good way.

Your eyes come back into focus and you see the pitiful look he wore as if he hadn’t just almost killed you “Hit me please?”

And so you do.

You punch him right in the face with all your strength causing him to fly back against the tiles and you don’t stop there. You let out all the frustration from your near death experience out onto his body completely aware of the blissed out smile he now sported.

Regardless your mind was going 1 million miles per hour as one thing became clear. Eren was slipping out of your control and fast. One day you feared he’d be the one in control and that wasn’t a game you wanted to play.

You’re in control.

You were IN control

You not him.

You.

You freeze. Fist inches from his face.

It was like your body was in forced reboot you couldn’t move your thoughts finally spiraled too far and too fast for you to reach.

You weren’t in control?

Starring at the needy expression on his face you came to the horrific realization that maybe you’d been playing in his hands all this time. He’d been able to get anything he ever wanted out of you—he knew it too.

Did you really—no you couldn’t be right?

“I’m good see?”

Wrong—you were in so fucking deep.

Slowing your breathing you lower your once trembling fist “Get. Out.”

“Huh?”

Climbing off his chest you wipe the remaining water off your face “Get the fuck out I dont wanna see you.”

Eren hadn’t expected this outcome considering how hurt he looked “B-but where am I supposed to go?”

It was a stupid question you both knew he had his own dorm to himself but he’d been so used to sleeping with you every night that he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

Rolling your eyes you til your head “I dont care.”

“I cant sleep without you.”

“Cry about it.”

Hauling his shocked form up and out of your home you slam the door shut and immediately turn all three locks ignoring his soft cries from the other side.

Pulling at your wet shirt you could feel the breakdown coming. How did he do it? How’d he make your carefully crafted control snap?

Going into your room you lock that door as well before snatching the throw blanket from the end of your bed and a pillow. Going into your walk-in closet you close the door behind you and navigate in the dark to the farthest corner and sit.

You sit and sit and sit and sit and sit...and then you scream.

You scream until your lungs are raw and your voice is gone and you’re not sure when exactly you started scratching at your face but the stinging thats left behind is brutal.

You needed to think.

You needed a plan.

You needed—fuck you didnt know.

But you did know Eren was about to become a much bigger problem.

[dangitdespair]

hi! i hope all the mods are doing well! this is my first time requesting something so i hope im doing this right, but could i request some headcannons for rantaro, korekiyo, and kiibo going on a winter date with a gender neutral reader? i hope thats not too much 👉🏽👈���

Rantaro !

-Rantaro wouldn’t really like snow, even as a chill guy, it’s still too cold for him. He would come out though if you asked him to. You’re his S/O, he loves you, so why would he decline a little fun snow date with you? In a matter of seconds, he’s cold, but he won’t tell you, you look so excited and bright! (Please ask if he’s cold he doesn’t like the cold winter air..) 

-After you and Rantaro go back inside, he would insist taking off your boots and jacket for you, I mean you’re a queen in his eyes, you should be treated as one! After you two take off your winter gear, Rantaro sits you by the fire and goes to make some hot chocolate/tea/coffee for both of you! (you end up asleep by the fire with each other and sharing your body heat to keep even warmer :D)

-If you go for a jog/walk in the snow he will go with you! He will hold your hand and maybe put his arm over your shoulder to keep you guys warm even just a little bit! After a while, he will ask to go back inside, he wouldn’t want his sweet S/O getting sick!

-Rantaro’s winter dates are mostly cuddling by the fire, dinner date, and movie nights! On cuddle dates, he would often grab like three blankets and a bunch of pillows for you two! Dinner dates would either be at a fancy restaurant or a stay at home dinner which you cook together! Movie nights are kinda the same as cuddle nights, but he would get your guys favorite drinks, favorite candy, and make popcorn the exact way you like it!

-You guys constantly fall asleep on the couch because of your constant movie dates during winter. Please make sure to give him affection because he showers you with it (I'M SORRY IF THIS IS OOC I’VE NEVER WRITTEN FOR RANTARO,,,,,)

Korekiyo

- Being an anthropologist, as well as someone who travels extensively, he's used to cold climates. He loves admiring your beauty as you two walk in the snow.

- "It is common for some humans to throw snow at each other, correct?"

- That question spiraled into a snowball fight! For such a tall guy, Korekiyo is a difficult target to hit. He's also pretty sneaky and quiet, so he can definitely sneak behind you and nail you with a few snowballs when you aren't looking! He loves seeing your reactions to this.

- No matter the result, he will gladly take you inside somewhere afterwards. He'll make sure you get a nice cup of hot chocolate, too.

Kiibo //

- kiibo’s a robot, so he might be a bit like a phone. He might shut down if it’s too cold, so make sure that he’s got some things on to make sure he’s warm (but also not over heating. just try not to go outside with him too much lol)

- when he is outside though, he really likes the look of snow. since he’s a robot and doesn’t really have heat in his limbs, the snow doesn’t melt on him, so he will look at the snow on his hands very carefully. it does make him a bit sad watching the snow melt on you, reminding him that he’s not human like you.

- when you’re inside, he’ll happily watch the snow fall with you. sitting next the fire has a pleasant sound. he can’t really feel temperatures, but he can detect them, so he’ll know the two of you are warming up by the fire.

- if you’re gonna go for a walk in the snow, please hold his hand. he’s usually too embarrassed to do anything himself since his ai is so innocent, but he definitely loves it. you can hear his fans kickstart to try and cool him off whenever you hold his hand. it always makes you laugh, which makes him even redder (i still don’t know how or why that robot blushes lmao)

- miu could definitely install heating functions on him for during the winter, so he can become a little walking heater. he’s a little tough, but he’s like a little heating rock. lizards would be *very* happy with him.

- perhaps you’re part lizard because you certainly love leaning on his warm surface.

- kiibo and liquids don’t exactly mix, so he’s more likely to just watch you drink a warm drink (coffee, hot chocolate, etc.). if he bugs miu enough, she could definitely install a tasting function in him so he can enjoy hot drinks with you too.

- if he does get the tasting function, then please give him what foods you like to eat in the winter. he really wants to try new things

[fandomlifechoseme]

Your blog is adorable 🥴. Very saccharine~ Now, I have a question, how would Dick, Tim, and Jason react to their s/o reading fanfics on them?? Thank you! ❤️🖤❤️

Thank You So Much!!! I’m glad you like it!!!

Oh my gosh, I never realised how great of a fanfic this idea would be. Now because you didn’t specify I did some headcanons and a small scenario for each.

(H/n = Hero Name)

Dick

Ok, It wasn’t that big of a deal. 

Someone just sent a link of a Kid flash x Nightwing 

It was a quick read and lets just say...It spiralled

It could be classified as an obsession once you started googling x reader

He knew about it ever since he opened your laptop when you asked him to email himself a pic

His reaction was like a whole new world had opened up to him. 

Now he emails you random fanfics he found. 

His favourite ones are the Nightwing x H/n

I was at home one day and Dick was out being himself so I decided it was time to check out the Nightwing x H/n I’ve had in my recommended for like years. I got so deep into the story I didn’t even hear the front door open until Dick walked into our shared bedroom.

“Hello hot stuff” I say closing my laptop. I walked over to where he was awaiting his hug and I gladly gave him what he wanted. Without realising I quickly snapped a selfie. We looked hot.

“Dam babe look at us” He quickly glances at it and asks me

“Dam. Can you email that to me? I broke my phone on patrol tonight” After scolding him for breaking his phone for the third time this week, I tell him to email it to himself as I was gonna take a shower. As I hopped into the shower it clicked that I had told him to look at my laptop. Which currently was open to a NSFW chapter. I quickly raced out of the shower to Dick. Who was chilling on our bed scrolling through the page.

“I’m sending myself this too, Ok? Then maybe we can reenact it” 

Tim

Here’s the thing about the fanfiction

You were scrolling through Tumblr, Just chilling

When a Tim Drake x Reader popped up

This got you interested because

You expected there to be Red Robin fanfiction but not any Tim Drake Fanfiction.

It was pretty well written so You clicked on the blog where you found a jackpot

Red hood x reader? Check!

Nightwing x reader? Check!

Red Robin x reader? Check

But almost all of the blog was covered in 

H/n x Tim Drake or

H/n x Red Robin or

H/n x Reader. 

Well since it was a fan you decided to read them. 

They obviously shipped you with Tim so you decided to share it with him.

When he was blushing like crazy you thought he was embarrassed about there being fanfiction about him until he muttered.

“That’s My Blog”

Running into Wayne Manor at full speed. I was lucky Alfred opened the door because I had my laptop open and I would of broken it if I ran into the door. I might of gotten hurt but I’m focusing on important stuff. I continued my run until I located Tim’s room. As per usual I opened the door not expecting to see almost the entire family minus Alfred. Pretending socialising didn’t bother me I ran over to Tim.

“What’s Wrong Y/n?” 

“Nothing's wrong, I just found this blog on Tumblr, It has Red Robin fanfiction and Tim Drake Fanfiction. It also has Fanfiction about you guys. But like it’s weirdly specific.”

“What do you mean, Weirdly Specific Y/n?” Says Dick, Who is used to fanfiction written about him.

“It says here, I headcanon that Nightwing has a daughter who came from the future, Named Nightstar” That shut him up completely.

“We have to check the entire batcave. Someone is getting intel out to th-” Bruce started to say. He got cut off by Tim

“There’s no need Bruce.” His face was redder than a tomato peel. We have to question him before he blurts out

“IT WAS A DARE! STEPHANIE AND I WROTE FANFICTION BECAUSE WE WERE DARED TO! AND I KEPT WRITING H/N X RED ROBIN BECAUSE I LIKED IT!!!”

Jason was the first to start dying of laughter.

Jason

Jason had been away for too long

You started to miss him

So you may of typed ‘Red Hood X Reader’

It may have been your coping method for when he went away for a long time

Reading may of become writing...

Then your fanfictions began to grow in popularity 

So one day while you were reading some Red Hood X Arsenal, 

You got a text message from Kori

‘Jason is almost home’ 

You expected that meant at least two minutes so you kept reading

But he waltzed into the room nearly ten seconds later.

When he realised what you were reading...

Expect LOTS of teasing.

I was finishing the last chapter of a really good Red hood x Arsenal when I got a text message from kori, She told me Jason was going to home soon. I got really excited because he had been gone for so long this time. But my brain wouldn’t let me continue life until I knew Ro- I mean Arsenal lived in the fanfiction. So I quickly started reading it. Before I could click off the tab tho, Jason waltzed into the room like he owned the place. Well he owned 50% of it. I went to shut my laptop very quickly but his hand held it open.

“What have we got here?” His eyes quickly scan over the screen. I tried to distract him with a kiss but he already saw it.

“Oho? What’s this y/n? You do this a lot when I’m gone, Don’t you” To spare myself from the teasing I did the one thing I knew would distract him. I leant over in my most seductive pose and said

“I was really excited for your return Red Hood” In my most lustful voice. As I expected it worked. He threw my laptop onto the other side of the bed and pulled me close so his mouth was at my ear.

“We will discuss that later”

[bxthharmon]

Never Go Home Again, Pt. XII || JJ Maybank x Reader

Words: 3130

Series Warnings: violence / talking about abuse / toxic relationships / talking about nudes sex and sex tapes / drugs / underage drinking

Pt. Warnings: Guns / blood and violence

Series Summary: A new girl, a shoebox of old memories, a past she’s trying to forget coincide with a hotheaded, but selfless, boy.  teenagers getting in way over their heads

Pt. Summary: Chaos catches up, causing trouble for everyone involved

A/N: sorry for the slow updates, but with the event (tysm btw ily) i’ve been busy. i have a few more requests, and i promise im getting to them. anyway! feels weird, only 2 or 3 parts left. tysm for all this support <3

Chapters linked in my masterlist.

“masterlist”

JJ woke up before you. His face felt stiff from the tears he’d shed the night before, and the corners of his eyes were filled with sleep. He rubbed his eyes, phosphenes decorating his mind as he pulled them open. The window was wide open, curtains fluttering in the light breeze and the sun decorating the room with a natural glow. He became aware of the towel thrown over the dresser and the wet clothes hanging in the window sill, the memories of last night returning. He looked down at you.

You were curled up, one of his tops and a pair of his joggers covering your body as you gripped his arm lightly in your sleep. He blinked, admiring the lock of hair falling over your face, the curve of your lashes and the relaxed smile that adorned your sleeping frame. He brushed the hair out of your face and let it fall. He realised that he was in deep. Somewhere across the room, the ping of a phone notification pulled him from his thoughts. He looked up, seeing the bluish light coming from the floor on the other side of the room. He slid his arm from your hold, careful not to wake you as you unconsciously pulled the pillow into your grip instead. He rose from the bed, careful not to let the bed creak as he left you. He padded across the room, picking up the phone from the wooden floorboards.

The phone awoke as he lifted it, a series of fresh messages lining up under the time. 

Tyler: hey

Tyler: ik i fucked up with us, but i cant stop thinking abt seeing u when u visited

Tyler: can we try again?

Tyler: ik u said u were seeing someone and dont wanna fuck it up, but i still love u

Tyler: let me know. I miss u

He almost choked, heart beating in his ears as he looked back to your sleeping frame, rising and falling with oblivious breaths. He looked back at the phone, placing it on the dresser softly. He left the room, clicking the door shut as softly as he could, and making his way to the kitchen. He rinsed a mug and put the kettle on, rummaging through the cupboards for the instant coffee granules. He pulled the silver pot from the shelf, peeling the cap off and tapping it on the side of the mug so the granules tumbled in, the dark brown contrasting the light ceramic. He poured the contents of the boiling kettle in, watching the hot water consume the granules and turn brown. He stirred and sipped, hissing as it burnt his tongue. He never had the patience to wait for it to cool down.

He studied the cupboards again, finding no edible food, not trusting the bread after his previous experience. He sipped the coffee again, allowing himself to look back at the closed bedroom door. He wanted to know what happened when you went back, but knew he wouldn’t like the answer. After last night, he knew Tyler was an asshole, and wanted more than anything to fly to California and punch him in the face, but couldn’t understand the text. Thoughts were flashing through his head, ideas rushing to his head. He wondered if he should ask, or leave it and wait for you to tell him. He knew you had no obligation to him, but he also knew that you two had something going on. Whatever that something was. He sighed. 

He thought about how he felt when he saw you smile, how much he’d spiralled after your argument, how vulnerable he was around you. It hit him suddenly, an epiphany that took all his air away but made him feel alive, made him feel broken and brilliant all in one moment. He loved you.

Down the hall, on the other side of the door, he heard the bed creak. There was a pause, and then he heard the floorboards moan. Another minute, and he heard the ping of your phone notification. There was another pause, then the door opened and you stood in front of him, hair tousled by sleep and eyes fresh. You smiled at him, reaching out and pulling him in, kissing his temple and stepping away to make your own coffee. His heart pulled, not letting him push you away and reaching out as you left his arms, but not wanting it because of those stupid texts. In that moment, he fights his impulse and decides to wait for you to tell him. Would you tell him?

He draws his attention to you, hopping back onto the counter next to you. He watched you, enamored with the way you moved, the way you brush against him, the way you seem so carefree in the moment. He wants to kiss you, but he knows he won’t until he knows what’s going on. 

Faster than he wants to admit, you’ve finished your coffees and Kie and Pope are awake, moving about after leaving their slumber on the pullout couch, and then setting up the pulley for the well. Your mood changes when they’re up. You’re more talkative, brushing over any mention of the night before, helping when you can. You look back at him a couple of times, and each time his heart flutters.

You can feel blisters working on your skin as you help Pope with the winch, the rope burning at your skin in the force of the friction, but you don’t pay it any mind. You finish with the mechanism, stepping away and sitting down next to JJ, passing some witty banter with Kie, and opening a bottle of beer, the cool glass soothing the hot skin on your palms.

“What does it feel like?” Pope asked, watching Kie as she sat in the can hanging from the pulley.

“Feels good.” she confirms, pulling the rope slightly.

“John B’s pulling a Houdini.” JJ stated, putting his own beer down.

“Yeah, where is he?” you asked.

“I got my scholarship interview in the morning.” Pope reminded, “We gotta get this done.”

“Speak of the devil!” JJ grinned as John B strode past you all without so much as a ‘hello’. “Hey! Dude, I put up the entire winch to pull up the gold and everything.”

“No he did not.” You laughed.

“We did that.” Pope said, gesturing between you.

John B ignored you, and Kie called after him as he entered the Chateau. “Okay, that’s it?” you muttered.

“What’s that all about?” Pope asked, walking to you and JJ.

“I was gonna ask you the same question.” JJ said, you and him getting off the hot tub and following him into the Chateau. When you entered, John B was pulling the house apart, searching.

“You alright, man?” Pope asked, “What’s up?”

“What are you looking for?” Kie added.

“Bro, what’s going on, man?” JJ asked, following him as he pulled the gun from under the cushioning on the sofa.

“John B, what do you need the gun for?” You and JJ stepped forwards, both reaching to take the weapon. John B grabbed your shoulders, pushing you over and shoving past JJ as you all yelled for him to chill and talk to you. Pope tried to block his exit.

“What are you, JJ, now?” Pope asked as you and Kie yelled for him to calm down. John B pushed Pope back into the table as you followed him out, asking for him to explain, or calm down. You ran down the steps, the others close behind. He mounted the dirt bike, looking back at the four of you.

“John B, what the hell?” Kie yelled.

“Ward knows about the gold.” John B spoke for the first time. “He killed my dad.”

You ran as far as the dirt track, watching the bike disappear as JJ swore.

--

“What now, we just go up to the front door and ask, ‘Hey, have you seen John B’?”

The night felt dark, cold, and your boat felt fragile next to the stupidly big boat across the pontoon from you. The shape of the Cameron house was huge and adorned with golden windows on the other side of the lawn.

“Look, he lives in Tannyhill now, it’s plausible.” Kie reasoned, but you could tell she was just grabbing at loose ends. “We can play dumb.”

“Play dumb?” you frowned.

“It’s pretty late.” Pope added.

“Look, I’ve never seen John B like that. We should honestly be going to the cops.” Kie countered.

“The cops? And say what, Kie?” you almost laughed, “‘We’re worried about our friend because he’s going off on a rampage because Ward Cameron killed Big John’? They’re not gonna believe us!”

“Hey, I see Ward.” Pope interrupted you, binoculars up as he watched the house. Kie took the binoculars, checking for herself. “Doesn’t look dead to me, let’s go home.”

“What?” Kie turned, shocked and offended.

“Uh, okay. Obviously Mr Cameron is fine, and even if John B was here, he isn’t now, okay? Plus, I have the biggest, most important moment of my life in six hours.”

“Yeah, well our friend is in trouble.”

“I’m in trouble! Guys, I haven’t been home in three days! My dad’s probably put all my shit on the street by now.”

“Okay, so that’s it? In a time of need you’re just gonna bail? You’re just gonna walk away?”

“Okay, yo, guys.” You spoke from the other side of the boat, “Can we not do this right now?”

“Hey, I have a scholarship interview in the morning.” Pope reminded Kie.

“Okay, well what about John B?” Kie asked.

“Why is it always about John B?” Pope questioned, and you sighed, looking away as Kie looked around, caught off guard.

“It’s not always about John B. You’re so stupid! It would be any of you in this situation.”

“Bullshit!”

“Guys.” JJ tried to stop them.

“This is about friendship!” Kie powered on.

“Bring it down.” said JJ.

“This is about pogues for life!”

“What about forensic pathology, huh?” countered Pope.

“Forensic pathology?” Kie scoffed.

“It’s my life! It’s everything I’ve worked for!”

“That’s your priority?”

“Would you stop with the moral high ground bullshit?”

“Pope, come on.” you cut in.

“No.” he rejected, “No, no. She has no room to talk.” You looked down, knowing you didn’t either. “Where were you when Big John went missing? You weren’t there. You weren’t there for John B. You weren’t there for any of us! Remember your kook year?”

“Dude.” JJ tried, again, to stop the argument.

“Yeah, you forgot about us. Now you feel guilty.”

“Give me a break.” She pushed him, and he staggered but held his ground, you and JJ were up within seconds. “Is that what you need? You need a break? Move!”

You and JJ pulled them away from each other, shouting for them to stop, to cut it out. You held Kie’s shoulders, the both of you breathing heavily. She stared straight ahead, holding eye contact with Pope as JJ looked between them.

“If I’m the one mediating, we’ve hit rock bottom.” JJ sighed. You dropped your hands from Kie’s shoulders. She sat down as you sent Pope to the bow of the ship, sitting down as well.

“Pope, we’ll drop you off.” You said, JJ steering the boat. 

--

You sat, facing away from the group, water washing around your ankles, arms propped up on the wood as you stared at your phone. You were aware of the conversation - the gold was gone - but you weren’t really listening, or paying attention. Your mind was plagued with worries that felt trivial compared with what was going on, but still felt like the world would implode if you didn’t sort them.

Tyler was rejecting your refusals, insisting you humour him. You turned around briefly to look at JJ, who was watching you. You wondered if he had worked out that you’d slept with Tyler, even though you hadn’t mentioned it. But, of course, you hadn’t mentioned it - he couldn’t know.

You broke from your thoughts as Pope came blundering down the path. “Guys!” he halted when he reached you, and you picked your legs up, swinging around to face the group. “Oh, God, I ran all the way here.”

“How was the interview?” you asked.

“Don’t ask.”

“Promising.”

“JB, look, I’m sorry dude. About everything.”

“It’s fine.” John B disregarded.

“But - but I don’t have a lot of time, and I have information that is tactically relevant. So, before I had my interview, my dad said he was going down to the private airstrip to cut palms for Cameron’s big plane. Because it was too heavy, it needed a longer landing strip to take off. So, I’m there sitting in my interview, thinking to myself, ‘Hm, why would Cameron need a longer airstrip to take off? What could be so heavy to weigh it down?’”

“Gold.” JJ turned.

“That’s right.” John B confirmed.

“Exactly! Guys, this is our chance, but it leaves tonight, and we have to go.”

“We can’t give up now.” Kie smiled, jumping down from where she was balanced.

“What’s the plan, big man?” JJ asked.

“We’re gonna steal that shit back.” John B stated.

You smiled, this was going to be a shit show.

--

“We go in there, guns-a-blazin’, make Ward Cameron beg for mercy, abscond with as much gold as possible, and vámanos, get the hell out of there.” JJ summed up.

“Send that shit right down the intracoastal.” John B added.

“Wait for the weather.” Kie reminded.

“Exit to Cuba.” Pope finalised.

“Cuba?” JJ sounded offended at the idea, “No, man, Xcalak, the jewel of the Yucatan. Lobsters so thick, mangoes, no word for money.”

“I like the sound of that,” you hummed, sitting up from where you lay across the back seats, “Let’s do this shit.”

The VW rattled on for a few hundred feet, John B curving into a break in the thicket, the lot of you leaping out of the car to a wire fence.

“What’s the plan?” Kie asked. ���Broad strokes.”

“I don’t think we got that far.” John B admitted, Pope pulled out his binoculars.

“They’re loading up the gold.” Pope pointed out. 

John B took the binoculars, watching the scene before him. You were all pressed up to the wire fence, and you could see a car rolling up to the plane. You watched the figures exit, faintly recognisable without the binoculars. John B lowered the black instrument, Kie asking him what was going on.

“It’s Sarah.” 

You looked back at the plane. They played out like a scene in a play, little figurines moving around, until Sarah was being dragged onto the plane by the shape that must have been her father. John B disappeared from your side as the engine began to whir, loud enough to be audible from your spot behind the fence. Behind you, a car door slammed, and you shouted for your friend as he started the engine, forcing all of you to step back as he smashed through the gate, JJ’s “Don’t be a hero!” resounding in the air.

Still shouting, the four of you ran through the gap as he accelerated towards the moving plane, your shouts fracturing the air. Upon the realisation that whatever stupid, reckless thing John B was doing couldn’t be stopped, you waited in baited breath. You watched the van swerve in the plane’s path, the screech of the brakes reaching your ears. You heard and watched the second squeal as the plane halted, barely feet away from the pogue.

Somewhere in the distance, you heard the sirens.

“Guys, I can’t get arrested.” Pope spoke, breaking the shocked silence you had been standing in.

“I’m on probation.” JJ added. 

“We’re no good if we’re all in jail.” Kie confirmed, and you turned to the three of them.

“You serious?” you almost laughed.

“Y/N,” JJ started.

“Go, if you have to.” You nodded, “I’ll step in if he needs me, God knows what’ll happen.”

Kie and Pope nodded,setting off, but JJ stood. “You can’t-”

“JJ, you said yourself - you’re on probation. But they don’t know I’m here, I’ll be fine.” You smiled, stronger than you felt, “Go.”

He followed your friends, and you stepped back into the trees, the sick feeling in your stomach foreboding a turn of events. The blue and white police car was racing down the runway, and you could almost feel the panic in your friends.

You saw the Sheriff get out, and the exchange that led to Ward’s arrest. You watched her get him on the floor, gun pointed at his face, you heard a bang.

The scene froze for a second, but suddenly time sped up, the Sheriff collapsed, and there was another figure. The gun was pointed at John B. You felt yourself move forwards, but the figures were moving - Sarah’s crumpling onto the floor, Ward standing, John B’s moving to help Sheriff Peterkin. You watched Ward and the new figure. Fuck it.

“John B!” you screamed, and he looked up. He was sprinting towards you as the three Cameron’s started fighting. You jogged, the pair of you breaking into a sprint as you got to the woods, fighting your way through the thicket as more sirens joined the melee. Shots were fired, but they sounded numb to your racing mind. He was slightly ahead of you, faded hoodie flashing as you both ran flat out. Before you registered the road, the horn was honking and John B was rolling over the bonnet of a car. You grabbed his shoulders, pulling him up, the pair of you running as the driver shouted for you.

You needed to find the others.

You ran for a while, slowing to a walk as you discussed where the others would be. The junkyard, you thought.

After five minutes, you stopped, forcing him to prove to you that the blood on his arms was only Peterkin’s, and that he wasn’t injured.

Somewhere above you, there was a plane. 

You were walking slowly now, approaching the junkyard. You felt numb, knowing that everything was completely different now. You turned the corner, seeing the three other pogues gathered, Pope taking a hit from JJ’s juul. Weird.

They ran to you, seeing the blood in John B’s hands and your shirt (from your attempts to check his injuries) and immediately began to panic, giving you once overs.

“Who’s blood is that?”

You all ducked behind the clutter to avoid the approaching sirens, allowing yourself a moment to breathe. You glanced at the blonde boy next to you, but as you went to speak, he turned away harshly. What the fuck?

Tags: @tangledinsparkles​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @lolitstiana​ @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch​ @teamnick​ @thoughtsofthestars​ @obxmxybxnk​ @jjmaybankswife​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @sxcretinhuman​ @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @angvelics​ @badwolf00593​ @coloradogirl07​ @mendesmaybank​ @jiaraendgame​ @5am-cigarette​ @emerald-xcd​ @haharudy​

[your-ace-cousin-clover]

hey, it's been a while!

sorry for taking eons to reply, i've just sort of spiralled into a mild drinking problem :/ (no big deal, just made me forget to reply lol)

anyway, i added big eden to my watchlist & i read your food poem recs (especially liked the orange by wendy cope), but i'm a little too tired to go into it in depth rn

(my pronouns are he/him btw, think you asked about that in the last reply?)

& i would absolutely love to do another poetry swap. one prompt i think would be cool to give you is part of that one astronomy headline?

astronomers say they have heard the sound of a black hole singing

and what it is singing

and perhaps has been singing for more than 2 billion years, they say

so, if you're still up for a poetry swap, drop a prompt :)

on the topic of succession; i do like tomgreg, but i think i'm more into kendall & stewie as a ship because it hits closer to home lmao

hope to hear from u soon

- cat anon

Ayy Cat! <3

I'm so glad to hear from you! It was kinda funny cause the day I got this in my inbox, I was thinking about you and wondering if you were doing good! Well, I hope your drinking problem eases out and you recover well from it.

And it's chill. I like hearing from you, so it's fine not to do indepth with every poem that you share with me! As much as I like hearing your thoughts on them, I also appreciate the fact that you read the stuff I recommend and you like em!

[Thank you for the pronouns, btw! I did ask for them last time]

And ahhhh, I'd love writing a poem on the lines given, they are so poetic on their own that it's just nuts. I do have an idea in mind. I guess I'll just put "for cat anon" on the poem so you can identify it? It'll work well that way.

So uhh, for my prompt, it's going to be a German saying which is "Man sieht sich im leben immer zweimal" or in English, "You always meet twice in life." For me, it's a saying that reduces the stings of leaving someone because you will meet them again in your life, knowingly or unknowingly. Look forward to what you make of it!

And yess, Stendall is good! I read like one fic and lost it cause man, very good! But, I'm a big Tomgreg person, idk why, maybe it has a bit more softer moments than Stendall or other ships like apart from the Roys? They genuinely enjoy each other's company.

And finally, something that prompted me to finish writing this reply were a few lines that I feel you'd think are poetic as well as very emotive:

"People who didn’t live pre-Internet can’t grasp how devoid of ideas life in my hometown was. The only bookstores sold Bibles the size of coffee tables and dashboard Virgin Marys that glowed in the dark. I stopped in the middle of the SAT to memorize a poem, because I thought, This is a great work of art and I’ll never see it again."

It's from an interview called "Mary Karr, The Art of Memoir No. 1" interviewed by Amanda Fortini. I saw it from a Destiel art piece today.

And with that, I look forward to hearing from you soon!!! Stay well :)

[astro-break]

Quick first thoughts on the first ep of the Hypmic Anime. Spoilers beware (and im writing this as I watch so :p)

Otome’s speech is.... questionable from a persuasive point of view. Manga did a great job of introducing her (which you can read here) but they really cut out the more terrifying parts of her speech and how she uses force to show people that she's not to be messed with

Its cool seeing everyone in their respective environments though. thats cool. Though they could have added Sasara and Kuuko (shhh i know why they didn’t let me dream)

I love how poppy the typography is. Its amazing how the visuals just leap out at you. The OP does a great job of this. The first few seconds before the title really gives me Persona 4 OG OP vibes with the influx of information given. The rest is a clear concise and streamlined way that still gives character. Animation is sparse but still carries across a general idea of each character and shows off each character object. Rendering is really nice and pays a bit of homage to the posing artwork thats done for the MVs. They also do their division hand signals and thats cute

Love how the OP has blatant HifuDoppo and DRB matchup foreshadowing

so far I really like what theyre going for. BB is about brotherly familial bonds and they show the goods and the bads. Jiro and Saburo bickering right out the gate really cements the fact that they get along like cats and dogs but you can still see that they love each other, working together when the situation calls for it

Now the 3d models. Theyre... not great but usable if you don’t look too hard. They serve their purpose and don’t actively detract from the viewing experience.

Visual typography in the rap itself are fun and poppy but they dont.... speak to me? like theyre there yes and I appreciate them but the only ones that got me excited were from Ichiro’s rap

I take my words back the group portion was kickass and I apologize

I love how they interpret the Hypnosis Speakers though. Esp. Saburo’s organs. That was super creative and I love it! If there was one thing that I felt was missing from the franchise was a deeper exploration of the speakers but the anime puts a new and fresh spin on it! Love it, especially with their attack patterns!

If the production team ever feels inclined to, Id love to see those info sheets on Otome’s desk released. There seems to be very interesting info and stats written out about each member (like capabilities, personal status etc.) They all seem unique too so I really really really hope they release images of those sheets

OOOOOOOOKAY MTC. I have such a big biased for them so Im very torn to see what unfolds

Rio striking out on his own is interesting. Out of everyone in MTC hes the biggest team player yet here he trusts his teammates to go ahead. This either displays Rio’s willingness to trust his teammates or it becomes very OOC if the anime wants to set him up as a lone wolf like character

I love how they specify its a drug deal. It means that Jyuto surely will show up and it also shows that Samatoki knows Jyuto’s motives and willingly gives black market info that he knows aligns with Jyuto’s goal. Thats A+ detail writing there and a great establishing characteristic for both of them

OOohhhhhhhhhhhhh man Asunama-san’s voice acting is god tier his work as Samatoki is phenomenal. He pulls of Samatoki’s threatening voice so well with those almost calm words before his voice becomes loud and confrontational. Those rolling syllables in contrast to Komada-san’s almost lyrical and airy speech and Kamio-san’s strict and enunciated words is such a delight to hear. It just speaks to how amazing and great these Seiyuu’s are in order to pull of such amazing work

Im so biased but MTC has such a better rap than BB im so sorry. Just by watching Samatoki’s part, the imagery is amazing. Even the arrival of his Hypnosis Speaker was awesome and sent a shiver down my spine. using the lyrics to form blades and blood was such a great thing to do. Theres so much more variety that just him standing there and shots of his hypnosis speaker. The old fashioned vignette shots, the four panel spread, the nods to old Kurosawa era films are great and I love these small details. Even the typography looks better.

Again, the interpretations with the speakers is fresh and new. Its great and I love the different imagery and attack patterns. Each one is so unique but carries across each different style of rap.

The 3d modles aren’t any better tho lol

(Hi this is Astro who is reading over their assessment again and making a note. Yeah I’m a bit harsh on BB’s rap. I’m not going to change it since I still stand by it and this post is supposed to be a documentation of my first impressions. I think one of the reasons why I’m so harsh on BB is because of their dynamic as a trio of brothers. They Have to have a more uniform approach than the other divisions. Which in of itself isn’t a terrible thing, it just doesn’t catch my eye as much as MTC did. Thats all! I definitely don’t hate BB, they’re maybe my 3rd favorite division out of the current lineup [not including TDD era teams like Kujaku Posse, MCD, and Naughty Busters] its just that their rap was pretty meh)

Samatoki crouching like a real gangstar and the cigarette kiss killed me

sadjkhfjkasdghsadjkcsdjhsdfsjhf im dying i love these trio of dumbasses so uch oh y fod someone save me aaaaaaaa (Astro note here! yeah i died when the jyuto and samatoki’s stomach growled im weak please. Samatoki’s face is just so precious and funny I might set it as a profile pic somewhere)

But also my initial assessment of Rio possibly being characterized as a lone wolf is very much jossed and im very thankful for that. It seems that Rio was simply trusting his teammates to carry out their part of the plan while he carried out his own. I like that, it really shows how much of a team these three are and that they genuinely trust each other. He’s also comfortable enough around them to invite them to dinners after work casually and not just for special occasions.

I really love MTC guys

Oooh! we get Ramuda on his design process which is really cute. the inside of his studio is super cute and retro and i love it. the poppy old music you would hear in a cafe or 90′s resturaunt is also really cute (astro note: yeah i know that in ARB you see the interior of Ramuda’s office but its kinda different seeing it animated)

the translation i have has gentaro speaking in early modern english (Shakespearian english for those who aren’t english nerds like me) but from what I can hear, he doesn’t speak in a particularly old fashioned way? Its more formal than old? and hes speaking without any of his character persona lying thing that he likes to do (as he refers to himself as “Shousei” throughout the segment where hes in Ramuda’s office which is kind of his default pronoun of choice). so its kinda odd for the translation to go in that direction but im not complaining

Gendice banter is gold but it feels... flat? a little? it doesn’t have the same impact as in the drama cds or in the manga? i feel? Also Ramuda using gratuitous english is??? idk how to feel about that

kjshf thats against the rules Ramuda omgggg,,,,,,,, (astro note again: while watching i was under the assumption that using your hypmic for monetary gain such a as buskering [which is what FP is doing] is against the rules. May not be the case but whatever)

FP’s rap might be my favorite in terms of tune and lyrics though. It’s a nice laid back bop and really gives of chill vibes. the integration of 3d and 2d is really nice and i love how they play off each other in the rap. The wordplay is so fun with little nods here and there and the beat is poppy too so it really energizes me.

Ramuda’s rap concerns me slightly since he makes very subtle and small nods towards his past (being created in a laboratory, warfare, and his overall very unpleasant life experiences) but spins it into something cutesy. It could be a coping mechanism, it could be me overthinking it. But it does make me worry a bit. Gentaro and Dice’s rap really play off each other with Gentaro sticking to stories and Dice taking up the baton by carrying on that same imagery but putting his own spin on it.

the self awareness of how scattered they are as a team is interesting though. It doesn’t seem like something you’d speak about in a rap? but i guess since its not really a do or die situation they can afford to be looser on things like this.

Right off the bat, i don’t like how they handled Hifumi and Doppo in relation to Hifumi’s fear of women. Slug made a post once talking about this and I echo many of his sentiments. Hypmic has never been very tactful about tackling this particular issue and while I didn’t have high hopes that the anime would be any better it hurts to see Doppo take away the one thing that allows Hifumi to function within society.

Doppo’s breakdown mirrors a lot of my own mental state when I spiral though its shown a lot quicker than what happens to me oof. that hits close to home. though Jakurai’s advice is. Questionable. Its not the best advice to give to someone but we have no idea what kind of doctor Jakurai is so ill let it slide

Jakurai’s pose looks like hes going to do a mahou shoujou transformation lmao

I don’t have many thoughts about the rap though again. How they visualize the rap is interesting. the different imagery is quite interesting for each of them and the typography is nice a distinct but im still on the fence about the visuals here

The sound is in the same boat. The sound effects either drown out the rap or are too quet but some parts are nice at least. When they talk about Tokyo’s beating heart, the heartbeat sound is a but distracting especially since its only played once. But the imagery is at least nice

I wonder if for the eds they’re going to take a similar approach to what Enstars did and have a four different endings, one for each division. I love the blend of styles here and it really accentuates that although they’re different they mesh well together.

Ramuda’s silhouette though is hilarious. Love it.

:p and thats it. Uh not bad for a first episode. Established all 12 characters really nicely and their dynamics. I had some problems with it but then again nothing is perfect. I look forward to what they show us next week

[trixree]

Okay so I had a panic attack in a Costco today and had a really unexpected (but wonderful) reminder that the person I am with is The Right Person For Me and I wanted to share this stupidly long story.

So my SO has to get a couple immunizations updated, so he tempts me along with him to Costco with the promise of pizza. And look. Look. Costco stressed me the FUCK out before the pandemic, alright? Fuck that place and it's lawlessness and massive, impossible-to-drive carts and families that pull up with ALL 4.5 of their children, okay? Costco sucks. But I was... utterly unprepared for how much WORSE Costco is DURING A PANDEMIC. (Don't worry, I had an N95 under a tripple-layer cloth mask and I stripped out of my clothes as soon as I got home. I'm not taking any chances, pizza be DAMNED.)

You'd think the giant signs everywhere reminding people to keep 6ft from one another would do something to temper the Usual Pre-COVID madness of a Suburban Area Costco on a Saturday afternoon. You'd be fuckin' w r o n g. The aisles are still lawless. The families are still there. Hell, it's all families. Not a single child is wearing their masks correctly. Everyone is glaring at me. I'm sweating. I'm not okay. I am in EVERYONE'S way no matter what I do. I must have said "sorry" approximately 30 times in the span of 20 minutes. My arms are short. The carts are hard for me to maneuver. I'm trying to stay 6ft away from everyone and succeeding Not At All because all these impatient white women keep running up on me to snag some fuckin bananas and I'm TRYING. MY BEST!!!!! It is loud. There are humans everywhere. Im d yi ng .

I go to my SO at the pharmacy. I have all that I could ever desire from this nightmarish place. "I have to wait 30min," he says. What little remained of my sanity dissolved like wet tissue paper. Very logically, as I am firing on All Cylinders and at 110% Capacity, I decide to go put the freezer items back so they don't melt while we wait. The freezer section is on the entire opposite side of the store, a good two miles away. As I bend down to put the yakisoba back in the freezer, my purse slips off my shoulder and smacks me in the face. I come back to the pharmacy, almost definitely sweating visibly through my clothes at this point.

I cannot overstate how badly I want to go home. Navigating these crowds is like that scene in Finding Nemo where all the grey fish are crammed together in that big ass fishing net and are panicking and wriggling every which way trying to escape. I somehow end up with the books at one point??? I'm so stupid. Copies upon copies of Obama's memoir stare at me with open disappointment.

SO and I decide that I will check out with the groceries and chill in the car while he gets his immunization, because I am clearly Losing My Fucking Shit. We trek all the way back to the freezer section and reclaim the items I just put back. As we get in line to self checkout, I almost take out this man at the kneecaps with the cart. I'm so sorry, sir. I was Not Okay.

It is finally our turn. I'm so close. So close to the blissful quiet of the car.

"You need two of those," the gatekeeper of the self checkout says incomprehensibly, pointing at the big thing of muffins in my cart. She might as well have been speaking Mandarin at me. I did NOT understand. I thought the Costco police were coming.

"I'm sorry, say that again?" I am choking on my fucking brains.

"You can't just buy one pack of muffins. It's two for one. It's 'cheating the member' otherwise."

There are moments in life that just utterly break you, body and spirit. This was one of those moments.

There were literally tears in my eyes. I would pay actual money to know what this woman's impression of me was in this moment. I would p a y.

I turn around, almost bumping into about 3 people as I do. My SO follows me. We stop, ironically, by the giant packs of assorted nuts, which I am deathly allergic to.

"I cannot do this, I gotta go. I gotta go." SO takes one look at me and hands me the car keys.

Now once I am no longer about to vomit, I'm in a whole DIFFERENT spiral of Anxiety because I think, "oh god. He's so fucking mad at me, isn't he? He just wanted company and I fucked it up. I'm such a goddamn child." I text him NINE (9) TIMES. NINE TIMES.

Two minutes later he shows up at the car with all the groceries and holy fucking shit,,, he isn't mad at all.

I almost cried again just from the relief of it. He wasn't mad at me. He handled the situation when I had to bail. He went back, got that damn second pack of muffins, and checked out on his own. He brought the stuff out to the car, checked on me with a truly infinite amount of patience, went back in for his immunization, and came back out with pizza for the both of us.

The best partners are those that can step in when we need it most, without complaint. Even when we melt down over the stupidest shit.

[grasslandgirl]

oooo i sent it more as a fix prompt but also from one adhdhead to another i’m glad we agree!! thinking about sam and peter study dates

ahhhh fvbjsjvkbjf im so dumb i’m sorry i saw “adhd sam” and my brain just yelled YEAH. RADICAL. and that was it kjdvskfj 

that being said i’ve been haunted by ricky montgomery’s Line Without a Hook + eldonado since yesterday so........ hmmm.... (oh no this got wildly out of hand)

-----------

Peter threw himself wholeheartedly into anything he worked on. It was just how he was built. Peter was either on or he was off, and it was hard to get him to change course once he was en route. Head down, eyes narrowed, his whole body angled down at his computer like if he got his face close enough to the screen, it would start streaming information right to and from his brain. His hair would flop, unnoticed, into his eyes and he would shove his glasses so far up his nose that Sam would worry he was going to bruise his nose. 

All this to say, of course, that study dates were something of an occupational hazard when you were best friends with Peter Maldonado.

And also secretly in love with him.

Well, mostly-secretly. Secretly to Peter, and probably only Peter, because Sam was 90% sure everyone else was in on the secret and knew how hopelessly gone Sam was for his oblivious best friend. Gabi was the only one who ever said anything to him about it, though. So, little victories. 

Finals were looming over their heads like a dark storm cloud. Looming on the horizon, fucking with barometric pressure just enough to make everyone jumpy and nervous. Peter worked well under pressure- which was a good thing, because Sam knew Peter put more pressure on himself than anyone else did- but he would always show up the night before a big exam and demand that Sam help him study. It was so commonplace after seven years of friendship that Sam didn’t question it anymore. Mostly.

There was always that small, hopeful, and nervous voice in the back of his head asking why Peter always studied with Sam when he studied just as well on his own. The only answer he could think of was that Peter knew Sam studied better with him there. But that wasn’t- that couldn’t- Sam always shut that annoying little voice down before it spiraled any further.

It didn’t do anyone any good to overcomplicate things that were objectively very simple. Peter liked routine, they were best friends, Sam was the only one who could talk Peter down from an academics-induced panic attack at 2 in the morning the night before a final exam. 2 + 2 = 4. Simple math. 

Sam was slumped on his back, halfway falling off his bed with his head and shoulders draped over the side of his mattress. The notebook he was supposed to be reviewing was abandoned, sitting on his stomach. Peter was sitting at Sam’s desk, leaned over and scowling at his laptop. 

It was unfair, really, how pretty Peter looked illuminated by the blue-white light of his notes document. Sam had the perfect view of Peter’s upside down profile, all furrowed eyebrows and clenched jaw and dark hair that’d had hands run through it too many times. It was late and Sam’s brain was wrung out and exhausted, only able to focus on Peter’s expression as he mouthed whatever obsolete moment in history he was trying to commit to memory, and the looping chorus of a Carly Rae Jepsen song he’d had stuck in his head for the last two hours. 

A big part of being friends with Peter Maldonado was knowing when to draw the line. 

“Pete, dude.” Peter looked up, blinking away the lines of notes Sam could almost see in his eyes. “It’s the middle of the night. Either we know it or we don’t at this point.”

“You think we should cut our losses?”

“I know you can survive on three hours of sleep and five cups of coffee, dude, but I can’t.” Sam tapped himself on the forehead. “This baby needs r&r or I can’t fucking function.”

“Right, right. What time is it?”

Sam sat up- an impressive showcase of his abs that Peter didn’t notice, of course- and dug around in his rumpled comforter for his phone. “12:30.”

Peter sighed heavily, tipping his head back against the headrest of Sam’s computer chair. “I should go home.”

“Dude. Just-” Sam was his own worst enemy sometimes- “just spend the night.”

“Yeah? Your moms won’t mind?”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure they assumed that’s what was happening when you showed up after dinner.”

It was probably just a weird reflection from the computer light on one of Sam’s posters onto Peter’s face. There was no way that Peter was blushing. 

“Anyway,” he continued, shoving his textbook and notes off of his bed instead of looking at Peter, “I’m gonna drive you tomorrow anyway, right? Saves me a trip.”

Peter closed his laptop with a soft click. “Yeah, sure, if it’s not-”

“It’s cool, dude, don’t be weird. Just two bros-”

“Chilling in a hot tub?”

Sam prayed Peter couldn’t see the hot blush he felt rising to his cheeks. Five feet apart cause they’re not gay. “Whatever you want, dude.”

Peter knew Sam was gay. He was the first person Sam had come out to- followed closely by Gabi and his moms. But there was a difference, Sam was sure, to having your best friend be gay versus having your best friend be gay and in love with you. An invisible line in the sand that would shift their relationship forever. Sam didn’t want to test how that shift would happen. Didn’t want to risk losing his best friend on the off chance that he wasn’t alone. 

“Right.” Peter repeated. 

They went to bed in pieces: Sam pulling on an old pair of sweatpants and throwing one to Peter, Peter neatly stacking all his notes on one corner of Sam’s desk, Sam kicking all his schoolwork to the edges of his bedroom floor as opposed to the middle of it, Peter brushing his teeth with the same toothbrush he’d kept in the Ecklund house since they were ten, Sam turning off all the lights, Peter wandering back into his bedroom, Peter’s hair turning to gold and ink in the faint streetlight coming in from the window, the two of them curling up back to back in Sam’s bed just like they always did.

And then it was dark and quiet and all Sam could hear was the faint sound of Peter’s breathing beside him. The warmth from Peter’s back mere inches from Sam’s. They’d fallen asleep next to each other a million times, but Sam still felt electric with the proximity. How easy it would be to just- stretch his legs out and wind his feet with Peter’s, to flip over and press his nose into the soft place where his hairline met the back of his neck, to whisper something hopeful and mortifying into the still night air and hear Peter’s breath catch in silent response.

Sam stayed still, held himself perfectly motionless lest he finally show his hand. And eventually, they both fell asleep.

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

Peter woke up surrounded by Sam. The pillow he’d pressed his face into smelled like Sam’s hair and the sheets on his bed were the same tacky Star Wars ones he’d been so proud of in the seventh grade and the bed was warm with Sam’s body next to him. For an instant, Peter let himself consider it: waking up next to Sam like this every day. Falling asleep with his arms wrapped around Sam and waking up with his head on his chest. 

He squeezed his eyes shut against the glaring dawn light, and against the daydream that quickly threatened to spin out of control. He could still hear Sam’s sleep heavy breathing behind him.

Slowly, Peter sat up in bed, pushing his hair out of his face and scrounging the nightstand as quietly as he could for his glasses. He allowed himself a single glance at Sam- sleep soft and sprawled out on the bed, his hand inches from where Peter’s shoulder had been, like he’d been reaching out in his sleep- before standing up and grabbing his phone from where he’d left it charging on the desk.

“Sam.” Peter poked his shoulder. “Sam.”

He groaned incoherently, but rolled over, which was a good sign. 

“You have to get up, dude.”

“Breakfast?” Sam mumbled.

“Yeah,” Peter laughed a little, “I’m sure your mom’s making breakfast.”

“Urrgghhh.”

Peter grabbed the clothes he’d left in the corner the night before and pulled an old t shirt out of Sam’s closet. “I’m stealing a shirt.”

“Oh,” Sam said, half sitting up and blinking the sleep out of his eyes. “Yeah- good, okay.”

“I’m gonna go-” Peter gestured weakly towards the door, and beyond it, the bathroom. Sam peered up at him, the light from the window hitting his face in a single pane, like something out of a sun-soaked French movie. Like this was the moment where one of them broke the uncertainty, the silence. Peter could see the scene unfolding in his mind’s eye, like he’d seen it a hundred times. He’d say something like, did you sleep well? And Sam would answer, better with you here, and Peter would oh-so-slowly close the distance and drop his jeans to the floor and Sam would arch up and meet him halfway and the camera would pan away, leaving them both washed in the golden early-morning light. “Bathroom. I’m gonna go to the bathroom.” Peter said, and closed the bedroom door behind him. 

He splashed water on his face and combed through his hair with his fingers, throwing on yesterday’s jeans and Sam’s t shirt under his sweatshirt and hoping it wasn’t obvious to anyone else how badly Peter wished every morning could be like this. 

He left the bathroom quickly and perched on the edge of Sam’s bed, scrolling through twitter while Sam did his hair in the bathroom. 

Breakfast was quiet and normal and filled with the usual mini-dramas in the Ecklund house. Kara didn’t want PB&J for lunch and one of Sam’s moms left the flat iron on in their bathroom and Leah almost burned the eggs and Sam spent half of breakfast finishing the math homework he’d almost forgotten he had. 

Sam drove them both to school early for the Morning Show, laughing and singing along to his “perfectly composed drive to school playlist,” and the rest of the day went on normally. He took his history test and saw Sam in math class and they sat with Ming and Randall and Phil at lunch. 

But all the while, Peter couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. He’d had... feelings for Sam for a while, unquantifiable and nebulous. He’d categorized them all: the way his stomach twisted when Sam smiled at him crookedly, the skipped beat of his heart when Sam slung his arm around Peter’s shoulders, how his hands got clammy when he caught Sam watching him out of the corner of his eye, how he always found ways to hangout during and after school. But he’d never dared to name the feeling. Defining it meant- meant he should do something about it. Made it real. 

But that morning, waking up next to Sam, borrowing his t shirt to wear to school, falling asleep next to each other- they were all things they’d done a million times before. Peter’s chest ached with the normalcy, the domesticity of it. 

Peter’s fingers itched to try and piece it all together, his feelings and Sam’s and their history together. String it all together on a corkboard until it made sense. But Peter knew it wouldn’t work. Not without Sam there to see the bigger picture in the first place. It’s why they worked so well together; Peter would gather and organize all the information, but Sam was the one that knew how to put it together, knew how to see the forest from the trees in a way Peter never could on his own. Even if he tried to map out the snarl of feelings in his chest, Peter knew he’d be left with a labyrinth of post-its and red string without Sam there to untangle it for him.

Dramatic irony, he supposed.

Peter caught the bus home, Sam had something for theatre after school, and spent the entire ride with his music turned as high as it would go, trying not to think about Sam as he stared out the window. 

The problem, Peter realized, with being a self-professed movie lover, is that your brain starts to treat life like a movie. He could imagine a dozen different ways his life could spiral out from this moment, a dozen different movie time-lines he could find himself in. The tragedy, where he never tells Sam and lives his entire life in uncertainty. The drama, where he tells Sam and it tears their friendship apart. The tragic love story, where he and Sam are together and happy until they’re not. The comedy, where Sam laughs him off and they go back to their friendship with a tiny crack between them, spackled over with laughter that’s just a little strained. 

The romantic comedy, where everything goes perfect and they ride out into the sunset. 

Life wasn’t like the movies, though, nothing ever went as simple or as straightforward or as cinematic. There isn’t a director behind the camera who can call cut and change the scene halfway through. There aren’t any sweeping cinematic shots with atmospheric indie pop playing in the background.

It was just Peter, and Sam, and the creeping uncertainty hanging between them. 

Right before dinner that night, Peter got a text from Sam.

sam: thanks for the study help last night, felt good about the test today

sam: don’t stress i know youre freaking out about it too

sam: you did great on the test pete i know it

Peter blinked at his phone, at the unspoken I know you hidden inbetween the lines. Sam knew him better than anyone, knew his habits and his worries and his annoying little tendencies. And he was still there. 

And that, Peter realized, said more than anything else.

Love wasn’t a panoramic of a passionate kiss at sunset. It was knowing someone, learning them backwards and forwards, all the good and the bad pieces of them. It was staying, not despite everything, but because of it.

Peter loved him. It was as simple and as complicated as that.

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

The doorbell rang at the end of dinner. Sam rushed to get to the door before his sisters- if he was lucky, it was their batty old neighbor Mrs Gorschtt and she would prattle on for fifteen minutes about her cat, shove a cake into Sam’s hands, and get him out of having to help clean the kitchen.

But when he opened the door, it wasn’t Mrs Gorschtt standing on the front porch, it was Peter. 

“Hey, dude, what’s up? We don’t have like a math test tomorrow I blanked on, do we?”

“Huh?” Peter blinked at him, “No, no.”

“So, what’s up?” Sam stepped out onto the porch beside Peter, closing the front door behind him. Maybe he could still get out of washing the dinner dishes. 

“Uh- so, the thing is-” Peter muttered, twisting one of the strings from his hoodie between his fingers. Sam’s stomach dropped; something was wrong. Peter was nervous, uncertain about something. He wasn’t looking Sam in the eye, and he had one arm wrapped around his stomach like a shield. His head started spinning with a million different things Peter could be upset about, but the thing Sam kept coming back to- he knew.

Somehow, Peter had finally figured him out. And he was coming to tell Sam- what? That they couldn’t be friends anymore? That Sam had made it weird? 

“Pete-” Sam started, trying to cover his bases, trying to fix this before his best friendship in the world went up in flames.

“You’re the only one who calls me that.” Peter interrupted, finally looking at Sam.

“What?”

“Pete. You’re the only one.”

“I- we’re friends, dude, I’m allowed to have nicknames.” Sam tried to laugh, but it sounded forced, even to his ears.

“I- I know,” Peter’s eyebrows were furrowed, and he was staring at Sam like he was a page of history notes he was trying to memorize. “I got your text.”

“Oh, uh okay.”

“Sammy, I uh, I have to say something, and I want you to promise you’ll let me finish.”

Sam’s stomach dropped even further. Here it was. The end of everything. “Right,” he tried to smile at Peter, “sure dude, whatever you need.”

Peter nodded. “You’ve been my best friend since the fifth grade. You know all of my secrets, all the bad things that I don’t tell anyone else. You know that I don’t like orange-flavored things because I had too much orange-flavored medicine as a child and that I stay up too late studying the night before a test and I panic after I finish taking it. You watch movies I recommend, even though you think High School Musical 2 is the best movie ever made, you- god-” Peter scrubs his hands through his hair, clenching his eyes closed briefly- “this would be so much easier if I could just- you can see the big picture. Like with this you could just- take the words, the discrete pieces of data and put them together. Make it cohesive, coherent. I’m not making sense,” he muttered.

“Pete-”

“I don’t want to just spend the night after study dates.” Peter blurted out abruptly. His face froze, like he wasn’t sure what he just said, like he was terrified Sam was going to misunderstand. “I- I mean. I want to do real dates. With you. And spend the night and wear your clothes and have my hoodies smell like you and watch you spin around in the morning show chairs without having to worry about you catching me and I want to see you without gel in your hair and I want to lean against you when we have movie nights and-”

“Pete.”

“Sammy,” Peter said, kind of breathless. “Go on a date with me.”

“Like a study date?” Sam said, also kind of breathless.

“Like a date-date. Please.”

“Yeah. Yeah, just- come here-” and then Sam’s hands were on either side of Peter’s face and his fingers were in his hair and Peter’s hands were caught in Sam’s sweater and then-

Peter kissed like he didn’t know all the answers, for once, and he was okay with it. Peter kissed like he was memorizing everything about the moment. Peter kissed like he was planning on replaying it like an old video tape, over and over until the tape wore thin and tore. Peter kissed like he could hear the orchestra playing behind them, like they were in some cheesy made for tv rom com and were about to get their happy ending.

Peter kissed like Sam was his happy ending.

Finally, they broke apart- more to catch their breath than anything else. 

“Hell of a study date,” Sam breathed, unable to stop smiling.

“Shut up.” Peter was smiling, too.

And, leaning back in, Sam did.

[h1kari]

can i have a personalized haikyuu ship if u are still open for this request !! 😊😊 im 5’6, slightly curvy, straight and i love anime !! i love to watch movies and shows (( im a homebody )) but i would love to go out on exciting dates like ice skating, karaoke... etc !! as im not a good planner and im not good at making decisions, i hope my partner would do that instead :)) i would like someone who is talllllllllll and has love language of physical touch and words of affirmation. i look at the positive things in life and not be negative, however im insecure and may overthink .. i usually laugh and smile alot, i can joke around but when a situation requires me to be serious, i will be serious :) also i wear glasses bc i have rllyyy bad eyesight 😭

I ship you with 🥁🥁🥁 tendou!! I was initially between kuroo and tedou but i feel like this red headed is The One. So! Let’s get to it ^^

Alright, i believe tendou is one of those super spontaneous guys who comes up with decisions on the spot, so the decision making won’t be a problem for you, and besides, these decisions and ideas of his usually lead to fun and exciting adventure-dates! But we’ll get to that later 😌

Tendou is obviously very touchy lovey, he just wants you to know he’s there, and wants to make sure you’re there as well. It’s sorta reassuring, yknow? Either playing with your hands, petting your head, poking you. The touches are usually very childlike in a way, kind of with the intention of either making you laugh or annoy you, or both. He just loves how you get! He really really really loves your jokey, fun self as well. The fact that you love to laugh and have his same sense of humor is 100% a plus, you guys have so many inside jokes together and each just makes ppl turn puzzled to you dorks. He’a definitely very vocal about his love too, honestly, he’s vocal about everything, conversations with this dude are never boring, he’s always telling you about random shit, how his day went, that weird but hilarious thing ushijima said, etc, etc. So you’ll sure recieve random i love yous and specific compliments followed by aggressive hugs and cuddles. He’s! Just! So! Into! You!

You’re both usually pretty positive, which is the best cuz if one of the two is feeling down, then the other just goes to them with an optimistic attitude (the healthy kind tho, not the “bE hApPy” one), the other’s smile and kind words just makes the day a bit better and brighter. Makes each other thankful, yknow? Another thing, he literally cannot fathom you feeling insecure, he starts to think back if he said anything crude or if his jokes hit a little too close to home, worrying if he was the reason for this, when you explain it’s not something he said, that sometimes you overthought about certain things which spiraled down into insecurities, then he made it his absolute goal to make you feel like the kind, samart and beautiful goddess that you are. He cuddles the shit out of you, kissing you, putting on your favorite animes, cooks for you, buys you gifts (idk why i feel like he loves spoiling you with gifts). Basically, he babies you (AS HE SHOULD CUZ HE APPRECIATES YOU SM) he just wants to make you the happiest 🥺 he wants you to see how he sees you, and feel the way he feels when he’s with you!!

NOW onto DATE IDEAS!! As mentioned previously, tendou is a fun, spontaneous guy, so you bet your ass he’s gonna knock on your day at random times of the day to take you out to this “sick ice rink he discovered” even if it’s a 2 hour drive he will take you there. Even if he’s a bit trembly at first on his ice skates, holding onto you for dear life, he gets the drill of it pretty quickly, so you both can go hand ind hand like the adorable couple you are, joking and spinning around (sometimes he falls on purpose to take you down with him and make ‘snowicemen’ while you’re crying laughing). If you guys aren’t out doing whacky shit, you’re at home chilling, eating ramen or ice cream, and watching either you guys’ favorite animes (firm believer that tendou’s a weeb, fight me) or shows. Sometimes you put on dumb movies to laugh at the acting, or you’ll mute certain movies you’ve already seen and do hilarious voice overs. Being with tendou feels like you’re genuinely the only people in the world (THE MAIN CHARACTERS), as cliché as it sounds, it’s true. After all, he wants you to feel like the only people in the world, because in his eyes, you’re the only one in his world :,)

Sorry for taking so long! I really hope you liked it and thank you for the submission!! Have an awesome day/night, bye bye lovely 🥰💘💘

[unfortunategoatthing]

prompt: Biting

oof, im not really into writing yandere girls, but she did turn pseudo-yandere for a moment there and im not yet sure if i like it yet ngl

Vampire!OC x reader

warnings: dubcon, noncon, blood, biting, etc

It was a cold autumn night, quiet, windless, and the eerie crows of the neighborhood ravens keeping you up. You just wanted to sleep, to curl into your heavy, silken sheets and forget about the world for a short moment. It has been so long since you've had a good nights rest.

This place scares you, and you are not going to lie about that. It scares you, and it's cold and dark and smells like the winecellars back home, all dank and rusted metals and rotting woods. This mansion is old, empty, forgotten memories hanging around every corner and ready to scare you with its horrible truths and non-lies it carries.

You can hear her breathing, she is hungry and you don't know why she hasn't replenished herself yet. She has yet to hurt you, to touch you in any way that holds a threat to your safety, to to pose any inclination of evil thoughts that might have been bred into her all of those years ago. She rasps something, incoherent from down the hall from where your closed door is connected to.

You not sure what scares you the most, this place or Lilian.

Curling further into your blanket, you bring the hem up to your chin, the chill only making things unnecessarily worse to you. Your nightdress feels thinner than ever before despite the thick wool that it's made from.

Eventually, she makes her way to your door. Lilian has a knack for her slow, dangerous stride, and you are sure that in her blinded hunger her prode has been tossed in turn for a stalking way of walking, the kind of walking that you always imagined all vampires or creatues of the undead walked like, shoulds raised and a hunchback, bent knees face curled into a deathly snarl that bared their long teeth and blacken mouth.

Your door creaks as it is pushed open, and you push yourself further under your blankets, unsure of what will happen next. You are scared, and you know it's because of Lilian.

"Y/n, y/n, I- I need you, I need you, darling," you feel her crawl on the bed, a lean hand snaking its way to find your ankle. You let out a heavy gasp, "Please, dont be scared, dont be afraid of me. I need to do this, I can't wait any more, darling."

You whimper, reluctantly sitting up and letting the blankets fall, the chill of the room causing your exposed skin to succumb to goosebumps. "Lilian..." You say softly, watching intently as she moves her way closer to you, to stradle you with her cold, pale fingertips trailing up your arms just until they reach where your nightgowns sleeves begin.

"Y/n," she repeats, silver eyes staring into yours, her long black hair draping over her shoulders and onto your lap, and her own silken nightgown almost gleaming in the dark, "I need to feed- I need to feed and there's no one else here but you, my sweetheart. Forgive me."

"Lilian, no-" Your hand shoots up to the crook of her jaw where it meets her throat, but you aren't strong enough. Her snarl is hoarse and choked, it doesnt stop her from descending her fangs to your tender flesh.

But she doesn't make it all the way.

Your struggling with your hand at her throat pushes her off only by a little, and she strikes the furthest part of your collarbone instead, tearing ths flesh and howling as her fang meets the bone underneath. You let out a short scream, and start kicking your legs.

"Y/n!" Lilian hisses, restraining your wrists and slidding foreward until she was completely straddling you, her nightgown rose up to fit how wide her legs were spread to showcase her pale skin, the frilly hemwork of the gown fluttering up to your stomach. Her lips are red, and the collar of your own nightgown is bloodied from your weeping wound.

She lunges a second time and makes her mark, her grip on your wrists tightening and nails breaking fleah, grinding down on you to keep you from flailing any more. Her teeth break into your flesh, it doesnt hurt as it does like the first attempt but you scream anyways.

Lilian lets go of one hand, and you're quick to start hitting her, yet she seems far more concerned with the ammount of noise you're making, shoving her long fingers into your mouth and pressing her manicured nails into your tongue, allowing you to continue your loud sobs and spitting and sputtering until all that remains is your labored breathing. Your saliva coats her fingers, Lilian only cares about your blood.

Eventually, you feel her stop suckling your throat, and feel a soft relief as she detatches herself from your body. She doesn't move back, though, she stays close and begins to pepper kisses to your neck and collar bone, hesitating over your wound from before before she gives it a tentative lick.

Lilian removes her grip from you as well, only to push you down, holding you as you continue to weep and bleed slowly.

She trembles, as if she was the one who had her throat torn, her hands shaking like leaves as they begin to touch your skin, your bleeding throat and collarbone.

"My love..." she murmurs, her hair falling on your body as she adjusts herself on top of you, "My love, I- I- don't know what came over me, what have I done..." She trails off, holding your face as you lean further into your pillows.

"Lilian," you say weakly, voice hoarse, placing your hand at her stomach. She moves to get off of you, but you dig your fingers in her nightgown, keeping her close, "Lilian, why-"

"I don't know why!" She shrills, pressing harder on your face and leaning in to give you a smothering kiss, your blood still on her tongue, "I dont know why and I'm angry that I don't, I'm angry because I never intened this for you, beloved, I never- I never wanted this for you!"

"When was the last time you... you fed, Lilian," her hands on your face begin to sear, and you know that it is your blood inside of her that burns her fingers, that burns her face and ears and neck red in her emotional state, "Lilian, Lilian, love, tell me, please."

"Th- That farmer last week, the one- the one who dropped off your food with his daughter and had saw you through the window, I saw him look at you and saw that same look I see in my brothers when they look at the livestock and I just-"

You place one hand on one of the hands on your face and the other on her own face, silently telling her to calm down, "Lilian, that wasn't a week ago, that was almost two months ago-"

She gasps, and leaps away from you and the bed standing just at the edge of it. "No," her voice trails down like a spiral, a mere whisper against the rustling of the trees outside your window. "My beloved," Her hands shake, "I never..."

You slide out of the bed, shaking feet meeting the frozen wooden floors, and the blood loss causing your to stumble in place with a short sigh. Lilian moves closer to you, a hand reaching out to steady you, but she keeps her distance.

"Please," you say, hand inching closer and closer to the tall candle stand, eyes never leaving her trembling body, "Please, just leave me."

~~~

The next morning is rough. You are cold and hungry, and your own blood still coats your body. Your nightgown is ruined now, and you don't know what to feel when you throw it down the laundry chute, sitting there for a moment as it bumbles down the metal hole. Some one will throw it out, eventually.

You are quick to draw yourself a bath, unashamed as you walk out naked to the water pump to fill your tub. It has been a long night, and you are already numb to the biting wind. It is a quick bath, albeit cold and your fingers turn blue before they begin to prune. You are relieved when you slip into thick woolen dress(delicate to ensure your wounds remain untouched), even the pressure of your corset warming after a short while.

You are silent as you make your way to the kitchen. As all vampires, Lilian is a noctornal being, but the feeling that you are being watched doesn't leave you. It has been a while since any one has sent food to restock, as you rely purely on Lilian to maintain all of those types of orders, so you are shocked to see the full cabinets and cooler.

It is a pleasant surprise, but a surprise nonetheless. You have an inkling that it is because of what happened last night.

You make a quick meal, eating alone as you listen to the birds singing.

At noon, when you lounging at the love chair with a book cradled between your hands, you feel a shift in the air around you. That is unusual. Curiosity picks inside of you, and you drop the book a look through the window adjacent to where you are, about ten feet from the loveseat.

Keeping an eye out at the leaveless trees, you move from window to window. You know something is going to happen, you feel it in your gut. Sniffling, you leave the room to scan through the other windows.

As you enter to Lillian's study, you find the source of your gut feeling. She is hunched over her desk, the thick black-out curtains closed and a flaming candle next to her. She seems to be writing something, the feather of her quill moving with her hands motions. Lilian is dressed in one of her older attires, it seems.

You rasp a knuckle on the door frame, she turns her face to look at you, but its only a side glance, "I've never seen you up this early before." You say in a low voice, and even then you feel as if you are talking too loud.

Lilian looks away sharply, her shoulders raising higher and higher as if without them to protect her you would see something that you would not like. "You have never seen in in the state that I was in the night before, yet you had."

"What are you writing?" You tilt your head, leaning further into the door frame.

"A letter to father. I have been asleep for the many years I've been a- well, a vampire and have not recieved much of the knowledge that I should have," Lilian starts, her quill in motion, pausing every few moments as she speaks, "What happened last night was not right, and well out of bounds not only to you, but my character as well.

I also have an apology letter in the works for you. I will say it now, and I will say it later; I apologize."

~~~

yea no haha im not gonna write any further than this atm, ive been at it for three days now and i feel ive been drawing it out further than i should have.

feel free to ask questions/criticize this, i enjoy recieve feedback from what i make. it doesnt have to be nothing fancy, just a 'bro u misspelt this thing here' or 'what in tarnation did u just write' works lol

[corescorner]

So That New Video Huh?

Okay holy shit, I’m gonna do an analysis for it. I’ve never done this before and no one literally has ever asked me to do this but youre getting it anyway cause this is the only place I can gush about this so freakin deal XP

First off, I woke up at two AM cause I’m A Disaster like that, and was greeted with this wonderful video. So naturally I make a pot of coffee and some Crofters toast and get on with my analysis.

Also! THE SWEATERS AND SCARVES! I WANT ALL OF THEM! On that note huge preesh to my Mum -even though she’ll never see this- who’s helping me buy one of the sweaters even though she doesn’t have to cause I’m a Grown Ass Adult ™ with my own money. Kind of. 

Anyway on with the analysis! Under the cut cause Daaaaaaaaaaaamn is it long.

- Thomas' jacket! I want it.

-That ad intro though XD 

-RAAAIID!!

-I be a real floozy XD

-Don't trust an old viking like me: Thomas Sanders (you know, the youtuber)

-PIrateS DiDn’T ReallY TAlk lIke ThIS! Reexamine your cultural biases!

-'what the hell is that accent?' going a liiittttle Remusy voice there Tommy.

-his ears scrunched down by the helmet and the beard string...

-Hahahahahaa, masculinity is a prison!

-SANDERS ASIDES! Nice.

-OKAY SO, this is literally the first thing I did when waking up and my mind was not ready for them TO BE HANGING OUT ON THE COUCH, suffice to say I had a mini freakout to myself and then excitedly continued.

-THE ONSIES I WANT VIRGILS!! THEY'RE ALL SO CUTE

-a florida dwelling man, who never leaves his house. Good point XD

-Romans immediate Sass™ Love It 

-Virgil’s Just As Sassy Thumbs Up. Hyello!

-*gasp* ohmygoodness it’s all Frozen. Oh whoever could have predicted that! Roman... Please.

-Virgil’s eye squint at Roman when he announced 100% of the votes were frozen and Pattons excited cheering even though he just said he didn't vote for it so there's no way it could have been 100%

- Now that I think about it, if Roman didn't rig it, I think they'd probably be at a standstill with, ya'know all their votes being on what they wanted to watch. 

-mmnnmmmnnn falsehood. It was so calm this time. soft falsehood.

-Paton’s incredulous 'too childish?!' he says this like he's recently seen Logan wear his and he's like 'what, but what'

-how can Thomas feel B.A.D with his inner D.A.D We👏 Get👏 It👏 You're 👏Adorable!

-VIRGIL: I CAN THINK OF A FEW WAYS. PATTON’S SAD LOOK!

-redirecting his attention to something good.... or neutral.

-ROMANS SASS

-Who among us can forget the absolute bop that is...... this weird ice cutting song. Roman with the sarcasm. 

-Pat: pretty cool/what it’s a chilled out groove! Lo: I might need you to leave. 

-Virgil's constant just Overthinking™ and not actually paying attention to the movie really. Mood.

-WHOS KID IS HE?! WHY DOES NOONE NOTICE THEY’RE LEAVING HIM

-some things need time.... Like evolution! Cute Nerd Alert.

-Patton blowing on his drink

-I ALso LOve you Olaf!

-VIRGIL’S LOOK AFTER THAT

- no you’re mine now

-I love that Roman commentates on movies he watches cause that is 100% Me

-’the heart is not so easily changed’ Lo: No it isn't. Pat: Hmm? 

-’but the head can be persuaded’ Ro: Can it though?

-’fear will be your enemy.’ Virgil’s looooooook T.T

-Pat and Ro: JOOOOAN! Virgil and Lo say nothing. Thomas:..... Joan... 

-it’s making me too aware of the passage of time! Ooooooof big Mood™ bro.

-REMUS!!! :D

-Of course he's naked, cause why wouldn't he be, they're all in their comfortable clothes.

- they're gonna die at seea! :D

-I sleep in the buff. Thank you Remus. No seriously, good to know.

-Virge: Did i screw everything up? Ro: No I threw out your vote so you couldn't do that. ROMAN!

-Patton’s head bob in agreement about missing the hand drawn movies

-Roman’s actual misunderstanding that virgil wasn't talking about frozen being the wrong decision.

-Verge: How are you telling me to settle into something right now when you've taken your sweet time to settle into things that you were uncomfortable with in the past? Virgil with the shaaaade.

-Pat: I just think we should all relax. Virge: You do realize who you’re talking to  right?

-Virgil's genuine confusion if Lo is asking him that question cause hes always so literal and then proceeds to tell him the number anyway.

-’why have a ballroom with no balls?’ Remus’ snicker, same.

-Just give in to the raunchy jokes Thomas, it's funny.

-Roman imitating Hans’ 'evil plotting face'

-Ro in Dude Bro Voice: aw man yea I’m so fucked up on chocolate fondue I don’t even know what im sayin right now

-All of the others smiling at that. Is Roman doing this to make them smile?

-Patton whines, Logan: Is something wrong Patton? UM Logan asking about FEELINGS Cute.

-there's no way shes coming out of this situation without trust issues. Mmmmmmyea.

-Ro: except for the footprints behind you. Lo:HEy YEa!

-Pat, quietly: don’t let them in don’t let them see. PATTON! SOMEONE HUG DAD PLEASE

-Virge: he may have been an idiot back in the day, but hes not anymore... Virge, are we talking in double meanings here?

-Lo: she shouldn't let go of more of her clothing that’s for sure, shes gonna freeze to death. Lo, she has ICE POWERS. I'm sure she’s fine. The cold never bothered her anyway.

-Logans confused, what about a bridge? Metaphors Lo.

-Pat: let it go! Ro: lie low in our kingdom of ICEolation, come on paton don’t go for the low hanging fruit.

-Lo: There’s a storm out tonight!? Well, obviously Thomas has to stay home why are we debating this. No, Lo honey, it’s still a metaphor.

-Lo: you think this castle has a lavatory? Pat: ICE TOILET! Ro: or a bed? Pat: ICE BED! Lo: this place sounds awful.

-Pat: his thing with the reindeer? Lo: outside of nature's laws? Re: he DEFINITELY FUCKS THE REINDEER! I THOUGHT THE SAME THIIIIIING.

-Ro: If OnLy ThErE wAs SoMeOnE OuT ThErE wHo LoVeD YoU 'hans evil plotting face'

-Logan pointing out Romans constant shade at he movie.

-UM! THIS IS HOW I SHOW MY LOVE UM EXCUSE YOU, My Prinxiety heart.

-Romans complete legit reason why Ana should have been saved by Olaf.

-Virge: I bet he’s talking about you right now. THOMAS' FACE.

-Pat: Thomas has talked about him to other people. Patton likes gossip?

-Ro: WERE ALL GOSSIPY BITCHES SOMETIMES!

-Logan AGREEING that they’re gossipy bitches XD

-OKAY I LOVE THAT RO IS THE ONE WHO SWEARS THE MOST

-Patton pointing a logans points in agreement

-VIRGIL IS SPIRALING, deep breaths kiddo!

-Virge: just think about it. Thomas: LIKE I HAVE A CHOICE

-Virge: he trusted you enough to share a history that he wasn’t proud of with you. Again talking in double meaning here Verge?

-Virge: ‘he wouldn’t have gotten around to some of the stuff you wanted to know about on his own. More backstory to unlock mayhaps?

-Logan doing the countdown thing to help with the anxiety.

-Thomas going along with it without question, Virgil.... kinda going along with it?

-Virgil’s soft ‘.... blinds...’ after naming things that were like existential crisis things XD

- Thomas and Virgil tasting the same thing? Do they all taste what Thomas tastes? Or were they eating together?

-Lo: You are safe. T.T Loooooooogaaaaan

-LOGAN TOTALLY OWNING THAT THOMAS CALLED HIM COOL! CAUSE YOU ARE!

-Virgil’s soft look when Thomas is talking about adjusting and then saying that he still thinks theyre friends! UM again with the double meanings?!

-Thomas: things will be alright between us. PATTON LOOKS AT VIRGIL Cuuuuuuute

-Roman’s metaphor that makes no sense to the situation.

-Thomas: thank you Roman, that’s barely applicable.

-and then his look of 'you're welcome' XD

-ROMANS SASS!!

-Logans list of Elsa’s powers

-Patton nodding along to it and then his 'yea it all checks out' XD

-Logan’s thoughts on Arendales military being just Elsa cause of her powers.

-Virgil’s soft smile and sigh.... ‘Too bad we didn’t go to that party.’ VIRGE!

-Anxiety music starts, what if your soulmate was there and now you’re never gonna get another chance to meet him

-Ro reaching in Virgil’s direction OH SHIT OH SHIT!

-Oof youre freaking out princey there Virge

-Lo: watching a film is too passive of an exercise to allay Thomas' troubled thoughts, Virgil’s cute shrug and thumb nail biting like 'welp'

-DECEIT!!!!!!! ROMAN WHY DO YOU HAVE HIS HAT DO YOU HANG OUT TOGETHER, WHY WERE YOU IN HIS ROOM WHY WAS HE NOT WEARING IT WHAT WAS HE DOING WHEN YOU STOLE IT!

-Dee: I was looking for this! So he doesn't always lie, that’s good to know.

-Virgil’s HISSING! Okay sure, but he wasn't even talking to you man calm down XD

-Dee: DONT TOUCH MY SHIT *finger waggle*

-Romans face! Like, yep I saw this coming and i did it anyways, and I’m probably gonna do it again in the future.

-HOW OFTEN DOES ROMAN RIG VOTES?

-Logans interest in rewriting Frozen

-Ro: no. yes. I don’t know what you’re asking. Roman, it was kinda self explanatory XD

-everyones expressions when roman is talking about how he’s gonna rewrite it.

-YEA YOU LET THOSE CREATIVE JUICES FLOW!

-Virgil’s little ‘aw hell yea’

-REMUS: eh not my kind of fanfiction! WHAT FANDOM DOES HE READ FOR!? DOES HE READ STUFF ON HIMSELF AND THE OTHER SIDES!?

-ALSO HE’S RIGHT ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE COUCH NEXT TO LOGAN NAKED, HOW MUCH CAN LOGAN SEE?!

-I’m going to bed. IN THE BUFF. Yes, you’ve stated this before XD

-everyones contributions to the fic

-Pat: I see your point Virgil, but how about this: nobody dies.

-Joan at the end XD Joan should do more ads with Thomas, they’re great.

-Thomas: you just do it XD

-LOGAN APOLOGIZING TO HIS ONESIE! MY FUCKIN ASS YOU HAVE NO FEELINGS YOU'RE APOLOGIZING TO AN INANIMATE OBJECT MY DUDE!

-So this is obviously after DWIT, cause of Remus’ appearances and Logan’s ownage of being called cool. But is it right after? Or is there gonna be a prequel type video next that happens before this and exactly after DWIT?

-Thomas being sad hurts me.

-Did I mention how much I LOVE THAT THEY’RE JUST CHILLING WATCHING A MOVIE HOW OFTEN DO THEY DO THIS!?

-Logan drinking his... coffee? Kinda drinking it. If they taste what Thomas tastes(??) does it happen the other way around? Probably not right? Or is it one of those things where it’s a phantom taste or craving type situation?

-Roman lounging on a bean bag chair in front of an actual chair, yea same.

-BUT ALSO VIRGIL SITTING ON THE BACK OF THE COUCH. I do that too much, or like on the arm.

-Logan just fuckin wearing dress shoes like they’re not just at home on the couch watching a movie.

[professor-maka]

#14 pls! :D “I come to the library every day to ‘study’ but really I’m just watching Netflix over your shoulder and I’m really invested in this series and the day we’re supposed to be watching the season finale you’re not there and I??? Feel personally betrayed??”

Ask and you shall receive. ❤️ I hope you like!

Thanks to @sahdah and @macabremermaid for the eyes.

—

“HBO and Chill”

She can’t afford HBO, not making her own way through school, so Maka had never really worried what shows it airs. Why pine for what you can’t afford?

But then, he’d changed all that, the white haired kid who goes to the library to study every Sunday night, like clockwork. Sometimes he comes at 6, and sometimes he rolls in at 8,but he’s always there, just like her. But unlike her, he always takes a break to stream on his laptop.

The first night, Maka had been pissed—sure it isn’t a quiet study floor, but who streams in thelibrary without headphones? She’d been fuming but also curious. Game of Thrones? She’d read the books—had wished she could watch the series—but alas!

Fuming gave way to interest, and instead of confronting him like she thought about during the first 15 minutes, Maka had found herself watching over his shoulder as hequeued up two more episodes that night, and, reading abandoned for the evening, she found herself wondering when the hell she was going to get to watch more.

Maka had been damn near lowering herself to ask her shithead papa for the gift of HBO, sulking in the library as she did her reading and itched for more in the saga of Starks andLannisters, when her thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of someone moving in to occupy the table in front of hers, the same table she claims every Sunday. She nearly gasped when she realized it was him again, the white hairedboy from the previous Sunday, the one with HBO, the same one she’d seen around campus and in the back of a few of her classes, silent as as stone.

Maybe he’d watch again, she thought. She hoped. Although, Maka reminded herself, he’d surely be ahead by now and she has always hated skipping episodes. Disappointment hadflooded her as she poked her nose back into her book and there was nothing but yawning quiet, the scratch of her pen, the click of his keys. And then, she heard it. The theme song! And it was… the next episode!

She barely pretended to read that time as he watched three more episodes straight.

That had been months ago, early in the semester, and now, the semester is nearly at an end and so is the series and she can’t wait! Because by some miracle, he clearly only watches at the library on Sunday nights, right when she’s there to see it, and Maka has become invested.

The finale is tonightand she isn’t even pretending to study, she’s so wound. She needs to know what happens. The show has far outpaced the books and waiting is torture,but Maka knows he’ll be here by 9 to livestream like he has been for weeks.Well, maybe she should at least make a stab at studying. Sure she’s got As sofar in her classes, but finals still matter.

Nine o’clock hits and he’s not there. He’s never not there, not all semester, so where is he?

Ten PM hits and she’s inthe first stage of grief, mourning the loss of her livestream. But surely he’llshow and stream, even if it’s a little late. Eleven hits and with it comes the anger. Why now? Why tonight? How dare he string her along through 8 seasons only to deny her the finale!

Fists clenched, Maka makes a decision. Maybe not the most rational decision, but she’s more than a little desperate. Apparently, laptop boy is friends with Blake—she knows because she’d seen them playing one on one together as she passed the courts afew times—so she can find out where he lives or his number or something and—and—

Well, she doesn’t know, but desperate times, desperate, desperate times.

Clicking Blake’s speed dial on her cell, Maka rolls her eyes at his answers of, “Yo, this is your godspeaking, whatcha want?” That being a god brother makes him her actual god ishis personal joke; only he finds it funny.

“I need—a favor.” She sounds more sheepish than she means to, feels silly, almost hangs up, but—

“Sure, shoot, anything for my favorite minion.”

“Uh, so, eh—“ she stammers through his guffaw at her inability to spit it the fuck outalready. But she’s Maka Albarn and if she’s anything, she’s brave, so she pushes on. “That, uh, weird kid with the white hair you play basketball with—“

“Who, Eater? What, you got a thing for him or—“

“Nooo, he just—wait, his name is Eater?”

The guffaw is louder this time. “Nah, not his name name, it’s just what I like to call my newest minion, keep up.”

“And I thought BlackStar was bad,” she mutters, face flaming. Eater. Knowing Blake, she tells herself she doesn’t want to know.  

“Yeah, whatever, anyway, Maks, what do you want with my boy Soul? Never pegged you for being into the emo type but, like, no judgement.”

Well, Soul isn’t so bad a name. She finds she likes it. Much better than Eater, anyway.

“I’m not into anyone.” She manages not to snap even if she’s seething in mortification. “He—uh—forgot something at the library and I wanted to try to get ahold of him to—“

“Yeah, yeah, alright,I’ll text you his contact, gotta go, they set up the beer pong table, laterloser.”

Black Star will be BlackStar. At least he texts her the contact, and of course it’s under Eater. Figures, but whatever, she just needs to find out why the hell he ditched her.

She’s already pressed to call and let it ring several times when she realizes all at once she has absolutely zero business bothering him. Because, sure, he’d strung her along like a kitten with a string, laying out all 8 seasons before her like a buffet of medieval shenanigans, but it’s not like he’d done it on purpose.

The end call button gets pushed so fast it might have been the key to stopping the apocalypse. Really, it sort of is. Maka drops her phone on the table like a hot potato and lets the shame wash over her—how could she let sensationalized, bawdy medieval television get such a grip on her?

Her phone vibrates and she scoops it up, craving a distraction from her own silliness.

uh do i no u —the text reads.

No, he certainly doesn’t. Maka has no idea what to do but she can’t not answer, it would be rude, so she types back:

Not really. Blake gaveme your number.

ummm okay why — he responds after a pause.

Why? She can’t exactly tell the truth but she doesn’t like lying, either.

I was worried when you didn’t show up at the library. You’re always there on Sundays at the table infront of mine. Sorry.

It’s the truth, just not all of it. Because she does feel like they’ve bonded over Game ofThrones watching it together every week, and she’s overheard phone calls with his parents and his brother and she’s gotten to know quite a lot about him. Gods, she feels like a stalker, but— but—! He’d invaded her library time, not the other way around! And he’s the one who breaks rules to talk on his cell—he’s lucky she hasn’t reported him! And—

The vibration startles her out of her spiral.

maka shit im sorry im sick running 104 was gonna go set my alarm but slept thru its the finale im sorry gimme a sec ill b there

What. The hell.

He knows her name? And that she’s been watching? And—he’s sick—and—

Don’t you move! 104 is dangerous where do you live? I’ll be right there.

Even as she thoughtlessly hits send she regrets it because what is she doing? He’s going to block her or ignore her or tell her to fuck off, or what if he’s theone who’s actually a stalker—

Vibration. It’s an address, for an apartment complex next to campus.

Be right there. Her fingers send it out before she can even think—he knows her name, he sent her his address, maybe he’s a stalker serial killer?

But she’d called him. Also like a stalker. So it makes no sense and what even is she doing with her life?

For about half a second, Maka considers blocking his number and going home, never to enter the library on a Sunday night again. But he’s running a 104 fever; he might need help!And—she’s not a coward and she’s fully capable of kicking ass if she must. AND—the Game of Thrones finale is at his beck and call.

That’s the clincher, so she packs her things and makes her way across campus. It’s nearly midnight, so Maka keeps to well lit walks, and it isn’t long before she’s at his door. She knocks and hears coughing and shuffling and then he’s opening the door, looking bedraggled in plaid pajama pants and a ratty band tee, dark smudges under his eyes, his pale hair sticking up every which way. Well, the last part isn’t sofar off from his normal, anyway, but he looks sort of pathetic with his fuzzy blue blanket over his shoulders. Endearingly so.

“Uh, so,” she says, fidgeting with the strap of her bag on her shoulder and looking at his mouth to avoid his eyes.

“You can—uh—come in.” He sounds nervous even past the unusual scratchiness of his voice, but steps back, so she steps in. He closes the door behind her and she notices he’s got a nest of blankets on his big leather couch. She’s pretty sure she can hear an episode of Chopped somewhere in the background.

“Lay down.” Maka finally takes charge, tired of them both standing so awkwardly. “You have tea?”.

He just blinks at her for a minute, shakes his head, then looks between the couch and the kitchen. “Uh, sure, I can make—“

“Nooo!” she cuts himoff. “For you. I’ll make it.”

“Maka, you don’t have to—“ it’s the first time she’s ever heard him say her name and it startles her, especially because she sort of likes it.

“I know, but I want to.Help, I mean. So lay down.” She doesn’t give him the chance to protest, just walks into his kitchen and begins opening cabinets.

“Furthest cabinet on the left,” she hears his voice call out from the living room. “Cups in the dishwasher.”

She finds the tea (loose leaf! She doesn’t expect that!) and cups and sets the electric kettle on the counter below the tea cabinet to boil.

Several minutes later,she’s got two steaming cups of green tea with an herbal blend, and she walks them out to the living room. Soul has neatened the couch and is sitting up, leaving room on the other side. His eyes are closed and he’s snoring softly. Poor boy looks pathetic, flushed and droopy. Maka sets down a tea cup on the coffee table in front of him, sets the second on the other side, and sits across from him on the couch. She means to let him rest but it’s so awkwardsitting with a sleeping not quite stranger that she clears her throat nervously.

Startling awake, he looks at her, blinks, then seems to recall the situation,

“Uh. So. Wanna watch the finale?”

It’s at least half of why she’s here, so she nods, still feeling awkward and out of place, yet absolutely determined.

They end up commenting to each other through the episode and it’s nice. Why haven’t they ever watched it together like this? Not just Maka spying and pretending not to, but actually just—together? She could have asked and sat with him but she’s been silly.

It’s a regret, but as the episode ends, they’re both too full of feelings and ideas for it to last, and they talk about the finale and the series for a good hour before she stifles a yawn and he lets out a huge sneeze and she remembers who he is and where they are.

“So um—thanks for letting me come watch.”  She’s fidgeting again, this time with the hem of her hoodie.

“‘’Course. Thanks for giving a shit and taking care of me.” His smile is wide and genuine and she could maybe melt which is—silly for a lot of reasons, really—but she also remembers—

“How do you know my name?” she blurts.

“Uh.” A nervous hand musses his hair further. “We’ve had like four classes together and you—sort of stand out.”

He’s already pink with fever but his skin goes red and—is he blushing? She blushes back at the thought.

“Oh, yeah, okay, I just—uh—didn’t realize you noticed me or anything, especially at the library.”

Gods this is embarrassing.

“You weren’t exactly subtle,” his voice is gruff as he looks at his hands.

“But—“ she stammers. “Then why didn’t you just ask me to watch with you if you knew?”

“Thought you’d say no.” His eyes are still down though they flick her way for an instant.

Would she have?

Maybe. In the wrong mood. She can be stubborn, she knows. But still.

“Well, since I’m here, you were wrong.”

“Yeah, I caught that. Guess it’s too late now, anyway. Show’s done.”

It is, isn’t it.

The thought of giving up her Sunday study tv night makes her inexplicably sad. Especially since she’s here during summer and knows he is, too, from one of his calls with his brother.

“You have Hulu?” Inspiration strikes.

“Er—Uh—yeah?” He looks confused.

“Because I don’t, and I’ve been dying to watch Hamdmaid’s Tale.”

“Oh! Yeah, that’d be—cool. We could start tonight—I mean—“

“Yeah, sounds good. You clearly shouldn’t be alone with that fever and I don’t have a final until Tuesday!”

“Cool,” he repeats, calling up the Hulu menu on the television.

For her part, Maka can’thelp a slight satisfaction at having made a new friend who can afford to stream.