#we’ll have the seance going don’t you worry

[twinkodium]

He’s manifesting, he’s really one of us

#f1 #oscar piastri #what are you trying to say bby? #we’ll have the seance going don’t you worry #candles have been bought and already arranged into a neat circle #🤞🏼🤞🏼

[laundrybiscuits]

(from the same universe as this and this but idk if it can be considered a continuation per se)

Jonathan frowns. “Can you at least talk to him? Like—give him some hope for the future. I think he’s really worried.” 

“Well, that’s gonna be a little complicated,” says Eddie slowly. “I can’t tell him it all worked out for me, because it didn’t. It’s not all worked out. I can’t even tell him it usually works out, because…fuck, Jon.” 

Eddie’s quiet for a little while, trying to fish words out of the white-water rapids in his head. There’s a lot of stuff that he just knows without knowing, and it’s not until he has to explain himself that he can put human language around it. 

“I never saw anyone like us over thirty,” he says, finally. “Maybe even less. I don’t even know all that many people like—like me and Will, but. It’s not just the virus, you know? It’s not even the odds of getting jumped on the street if you’re not careful. It’s…a guy I know out in the Twin Cities got kicked out of his apartment because someone told the landlord about him. Haven’t heard from him lately, I think he was sleeping rough for a while. Got another friend who was a teacher in Des Moines until the school board found out. Don’t know what he’s going to do for money now, I don’t guess he can get another job anywhere near kids. There’s a lot of ways shit can break bad, for us. I don’t want to lie to Will about that. Doesn’t feel right to sugar-coat it.”

“Christ,” says Jonathan. “That’s…really fucking depressing, man.”

Eddie shrugs. “I dunno. There’s good stuff too. Will’s lucky, he’s got you in his corner and he’s a smart kid. If anyone’s gonna be okay, it’ll be him. I just—I don’t know what that’s gonna look like.”

“Eddie.” Jonathan puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and gives him one of those searching, soulful looks, intense enough to make Eddie briefly consider having a hopeless crush on Jonathan instead, just for a change of pace. “You’ve got us in your corner, too. You’re gonna be okay too, I promise. We’ll make sure of it.”

“Hell yeah, bring it in, my dudes,” says Argyle, and sweeps them both up in a bear hug. If Eddie’s eyes are a little damp and red when they finally let go, nobody says a word about it.

———

“I think you should talk to Murray,” Jonathan tells him, the next day.

“Who the fuck is Murray,” says Eddie.

“Oh,” says Jonathan. He stares up at the ceiling for a minute. “Shit, I forgot you don’t know about him. I mean. That makes sense.”

“So, are you going to tell me who Murray is, or do I start guessing? Tennis coach. Line cook at the diner. Argyle’s dead uncle and we’re going to do a seance.”

“Ohhh man, we should do a seance,” says Argyle. “Let’s get our ghosty-ghost on.”

“Shit, yes. I think I’ve got some candles somewhere.” Eddie sits up, glancing around his room. He’s pretty sure he’s got enough stuff to pull off some real spooky shit at short notice. 

“No, no, wait,” says Jonathan. “Murray’s like. This guy who lives in a bunker out in the middle of nowhere and helped us with monster stuff a while ago. He’s, like, a really intense doomsday prepper.”

“And I should talk to him because…”

Jonathan makes a face. “I guess I don’t know for sure, but—I think he’s gay? And he’s old. Over thirty, I mean. And you said you’d never met anyone who was gay and old, so, you should talk to him.”

“Okay,” says Eddie. “I’m going to list all the reasons why I’m not going to do that. There will be at least six and a half reasons but I might think of more as I go, so buckle in.”

———

“Nice jacket,” says Murray. “Is it anti-conformist enough, or do you need to write REBEL on your forehead to make sure people really get your whole vibe?”

#cw: discussion of homophobia #PLEASE NOTE THAT OP IS OVER 30 #the whole POINT is that it's not very old #I've decided that the probably-inevitable misreading is worth trying to express something about visibility and intergenerational connection #bc I guess this is now a series about queer mentorship sort of #I don't know!! mostly I just wanted to throw Murray into the mix!! #...I should also probably come up with a title/tag at some point huh #fic: young man what do you wanna be

[hatbox-apologist]

The Ghost In My Heart

Pt.3

Warnings: romance, grief, drug induced sleepy time, self-deprecation, mention of murder, a bit of betrayal, and a few time skips

Preface: I really enjoyed writing this one. I think it's much more complex than the other parts, with a lot more happening all in one part. I don't have much more to say other than I really do hope you enjoy it. :)

It had been 6 months since Madame Leota moved into the mansion and held a seance every night. And every night, with every seance, the ghosts chose you to be their mouth piece. You were exhausted after being used night after night, feeling so much death, but as long as you felt you were helping, you were happy to be there. There was one particularly rough seance with the ghost of a black widow bride making you see and feel like your head was being cut off, Madame Leota had to intervene. She couldn’t get rid of the ghost but made them fairly docile with some sage. “I’m going to have some tea before I turn in to calm my nerves, would either of you like to join me?” Madame Leota asked, picking up her cane. “Tea sounds lovely.” William said standing. You said nothing, just looked at the corner of the room where only you saw the captain. He stared at you with his arms folded and his head turned up at you. “Are you alright?” William put his hand on your shoulder. You shake your head out of it, “Yes, fine.” you say shortly. “Will you be joining us for tea?” he asks again. “Not tonight, thank you.” you say. “Well alright, we’ll be in the living room if you need us.” Madame Leota said and they both walked out, William shutting the door behind him.

You get up abruptly and turn to the journal and thrust it open to a new page. “Why are you haunting me captain?!” you say angrily into the corner where he stood a moment ago. But the pen doesn’t move. Then suddenly the sound of the ship’s bell rings out and you cover your ears to try to block it out but it doesn’t work, it only grows louder. “You know why I’m here!” a gruff voice shouts at you and wind suddenly starts blowing in the room almost knocking you down. “Stop it. Stop it.” You grunt back at it, screwing your eyes shut. “You suffer!” the voice retorts and rain starts pouring down on you. “I can’t tell him, you know I can’t” You shout into the storm. The bell rings so loud in your head it vibrates your skull and you drop to your knees on the floor, which is now ankle deep in sea water. “It will break his trust in me if I bow out! I must hold on and stay by his side!” you yell in desperation but the torrent only grows stronger. “Even at your own expense?!” the voice roars like thunder at you. “At any cost! I cannot waiver! Or this is all for not!” you practically scream. “Then you are lost!” the captain’s voice blares. “I may be! But at least I am lost with him!” you yell but the deluge holds strong around you. “I know I have lost my way but I don’t have any other path but this one now! I’ve made my fate and I will live or die with the consequences!” You sob. And finally the storm calms to nothing but the water pooled around you. “You will not change. I will not leave.” The captain says and everything around you dries and watery foot prints stomp out of the seance room.

3 months pass after that, but everything remains the same. So many seances and equally as many ghosts, they get blurred together in your memory. Names get to be a bit fuzzy at times, especially after rough seances that wear down your mind. William however seems less optimistic as he was in the beginning. It’s almost coming up on a year now and still, Eleanor has not shown up. “May I confide in you something?” William asks you one morning while having morning tea in the garden. Madame Leota was inside talking with the spirits. “Of course you can. What is it?” you say, only a little bit concerned. “It’s been 9 months we’ve been trying to contact her. And I grow more and more worried. What if she doesn’t want to make contact with us? With me? Or what if she’s not here? What if she’s-” William says with each question he becomes more frantic, so you put your hand on his arm to calm and quiet him. “We will reach Eleanor, William. I promise you, on my life, I will help you find her.” You say with utter devotion. “You are such a good friend to me, y/n. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve such a companion.” he smiles brightly at you and it warms your heart. “You needn’t do anything.” you say bumping his shoulder with yours and you both giggle and continue enjoying the pleasant morning.

Finally the day had come, the first year anniversary of it all. The day goes on as usual and then the night begins in the seance room. “Serpents and spiders, tail of a rat; call in the spirits, wherever they’re at.” Madame Leota says and the seance begins. the crystal ball glows and levitates. You feel like someone or something is trying to say something to you but it all just comes out in jumbled hushed whispers. “Anything yet?” William asks. “Not really. It sounds like they’re trying but can’t quite find the words?” You say tilting your head. “Hmm. Wizards and witches, wherever you dwell, give us a hint, by ringing a bell!” Madame Leota gestures to a brass bell on the table, but again nothing happens. “Wrap on a table, it's time to respond! Send us a message from somewhere beyond!” shouted Madame Leota, slamming her hand down on the table. And finally you saw him. Only his head showed through the crystal ball. His face burned into your memory. His wicked grin and his crazed eyes. His eyes darted over to you and noticed the terrified look on your face. “You.” he says and tilts his head down at you. Suddenly you felt his soul, his aura, his overpowering madness and insatiable bloodlust overwhelmed you. Your face went pale as a sheet. “Y/n? What is it? What’s happening.” William asked concerned. You were scared speechless, it felt like all the air had been taken out of the room and you couldn’t breathe. The head laughed maniacally and you saw all his murders flash by your eyes in an instant, and you saw them as if looking through his eyes. Then his head vanished from the ball and you frantically looked around the room. You peek behind your chair to find him standing there, hunched over with a cane in one hand and a glowing hatbox in the other. His head, now inside the hatbox, illuminates the corner of the room. “Boo!” he says and chuckles at you when you jump. “No no no! Shut it down! Shut it down!” You practically scream to Madame Leota. While keeping eye contact with the hatbox ghost. He takes a menacing step towards you, scraping his other foot across the floor. “You can’t banish me, foolish mortal.” he cackles out. Madame Leota lights the sage and waves it around the space to get him to leave but he stands unwavering. “Aww, that won’t hurt me. You know better than that.” he scoffs and continues towards you. William grabs the bell and starts ringing in the direction where you’re looking. “Ugh! Such noise!” The ghost says and dematerializes. You turn around to see if the crystal ball had stopped glowing and it did. So you slump back down in your chair knowing the portal had closed.

Your heart racing in your chest, you pant, gripping the arms of the chair to stop yourself from quaking. “Is everyone alright?” you pant out. “Yes.” Madame Leota says calming down. “Yes, but are you alright?” William says concerned. “For now. Though, we need to banish that ghost back to the region beyond. I don’t know who or what that ghost is, but he'a evil and maddening.” You say darkly. His face flashes in your memory, it’s all you see behind your eyelids when you so much as blink, it sends a shiver down your spine. “I’ll see what I can do to find a banishment.” Madame Leota says opening her book, William still looks concerned at you but says nothing. “I’m going to go for a brandy.” You say trying desperately to stand while your legs quake against your will. William gets up and helps you stand. “I’ll come with you.” He says, holding your arm. “Oh, no, it’s alright.” You say trying to wave him off as you walk slowly out of his hold. William gives you those sad kicked puppy eyes. “Listen, I'm alright, really.” You say and hobble up the stairs to the living room.

You call a servant for a cherry brandy and sit down on a sofa. You sigh and put your elbows on your knees to cradle your head. You close your eyes only for a moment and see his face again. “Your brandy?” a servant says, making your heart leap out of your chest and you fall back onto the sofa. “I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to frighten you.” the servant says. “No, no, it's alright.” you say taking the brandy and down half of it. “Rough night?” the servant says observing you. “Extremely.” you say running your hand down your face. “Penny for your thoughts?” the servant asks, looking down at your trembling figure. “Not a chance. Not tonight.” you say downing the rest of the brandy. “Oh, not even the slightest detail?” the servant says, but the voice isn’t the one you heard before, it was his. Your eyes go wide and you look up at the servant, their nose is bleeding and their eyes have dark circles under them. “You fiend!” you shoot up and grab the servant by the collar. “I-I’m sorry! I-I didn’t mean to-” the servant pleads. You drag the servant by the collar to the seance room. “Y/n?! What in the world are you doing?!” William says, and Madame Leota looks up from her book and gasps. “He’s using this servant as a puppet!” You say to them confidently. William and Madame Leota look at you puzzled. “Look he has blood-” and as you look over, the servant looks right as rain, just as they appeared before. Your face falls. “But he was just- Their nose was bleeding, and their eyes-��� you say, studying the servant's face. “Dear… maybe you should get some rest.” Madame Leota suggests gently as to not stir you. “No please, you must believe me.” You plead, looking back at them. “William?” You look at William. He opens his mouth then closes it and takes a moment to think and dismay dawns on his face. “No, no please, William.” You say. “Maybe you do need some rest. After the events of the night.” He looks up at you while hanging his head. You look back at the servant who is still fearfully looking at you. You retract your hand from their collar and it trembles terribly as you do so, so you cover it with your other hand to stop it from shaking so much. You look skittishly back at them now questioning your own sanity in the matter. William tries to say something and reach out to you, but you run out of the seance room to your guest bedroom.

You run in and shut the door, leaning on it as soon as you shut it. You cover your face, and tears burn your eyes. You crumple in on yourself and slide down the door until you sit on the floor. You hold your head and sob into your knees. Hot tears sizzle down your cheeks, and your nose gets stuffy, so you start to sniffle. You sit there in choked sobs for a while until a soft knock is heard on the door. “Yes?” You choke out. “Hello, I know you may not want to hear from me right now, but Master Gracey sent another brandy to you.” it was the servant from earlier that you had hallucinated to be the hatbox ghost. You stand up, wiping your tears and open the door to see the servant. “Don’t shoot the messenger.” The servant puts their hand up in surrender. You walk over and sit down in a chair by your vanity, motioning for the servant to come in. “Ah, I’m glad to see we’re on good terms then.” they say cheerfully. They walk in and set your brandy down on the vanity, and you immediately pick it up and down it all. “Is there anything else you’ll be needing tonight?” the servant asks with a grin, and suddenly your head starts to spin, and you look back at the servant to see their nose bleeding again and the dark circles returned to under their eyes. “What did you do to me, demon?” You say through gritted teeth while trying to get up. He giggles through the servant’s mouth and pushes you back down. “Don’t want you falling.” He says and throws a gesture in the air, and the door to your room closes quietly. “Oh nothing, just a bit of brandy and a bit of laudanum.” he says in his voice while making the servant tilt their head side to side with each ingredient. Your vision starts to blur around the edges, but you try desperately to hang on. “You… fiend…” you slur out and sway. He walks the servant over to your bed and makes them pick up a pillow. He makes them dust it off and place it in front of you on the vanity. “Can’t have you splitting that head of yours, now can we? Sleep tight.” He laughs maniacally, your head falls to the pillow, and everything fades to black.

Pt.5: https://www.tumblr.com/seriously-nobody/728906187359338496/the-ghost-in-my-heart?source=share

#haunted mansion #the haunted mansion #haunted mansion 2023 #hatbox ghost #william gracey #master gracey #alistair crump #william gracey x reader #madame leota #master gracey x reader #william gracey x you #master gracey x you

[pillow-anime-talk]

their s/o is crying.

request: can we have the crusaders reacting to their s/o crying because they had a bad week? 

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; light romance; kind of angst; crying; rather sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. joseph joestar, jotaro kujo, noriaki kakyoin, muhammad avdol & jean pierre polnareff {jojo 3}

author’s note: my fav part of jojo :D

— JOSEPH

↘ He is very caring, of course in his own way.

↘ I think definitely the first thing he will do when he sees that you are sad and your cheeks are wet with tears is to take a nice yellow handkerchief from his pocket and wipe your nose and your red eyes while giving you a little kiss right middle of the forehead. Then he will suggest a conversation and some water/tea to calm your raging thoughts.

↘ I think at such moments he perceives you more as a little child than as a partner, so expect a serious talk, some life tips and promises that in case you need to talk again, drink something or a book to read, he will be right next to you. And then he’ll go to the kitchen to make you something to eat, such as colorful sandwiches full of vegetables, which have cute decorations in the shape of smiling faces from the cut radishes and chives.

↘ Joseph definitely knows how to take care of you during your unpleasant days of stress, pain and uncertainty.

— JOTARO

↘ He’s not very good at comforting you, but I think he’ll make an ‘exception’ for you.

↘ “Oi, don’t cry. Come here, we’ll watch a movie or order food.”

↘ I think his love language is definitely gifts, so if you are sad and your eyes are full of nasty tears, expect both small and slightly larger presents from Jotaro to make you feel better. Usually these will be items that will help you in some way to replace him; for example, a huge plush toy, a new blanket or a oversized sweatshirt in your favorite color. He (for sure) also likes to buy you food or cold snacks such as ice cream or slushie.

↘ Expect comforting messages from him as well, but without emojis. They sound offensive at times like ‘Stop crying, Y/N’ but you know he’s very worried about you. He just can’t find the cute sticker tab on the keyboard, lol.

— NORIAKI

↘ He’s so sensitive and really concerned with your mental and physical condition. Nevertheless, he will approach the topic very calmly, even hesitantly, asking if you want to talk.

↘ However, I think that if he notices any uncertainty in your gaze or in your facial expressions, he’ll suggest you to exchange notes so that you don’t feel his eyes or the unpleasant pressure that is equivalent to talking in person.

↘ Noriaki tries very hard to improve your mood with short trips; even a walk to the nearest park/lake or a short date in the zoo and botanical garden. He likes to buy you small decorations for the fridge or bouquets of flowers consisting of white carnations, irises and pink freesias.

↘ He’s also a specialist in all kinds of Disney cartoons, so expect a small (very big) seance with Princesses, Dalmatians and other animals.

— MUHAMMAD

↘ Literally a husband material.

↘ Therefore, if you are sad, he will be with you all the time until you stop crying. His hand will stroke your back and the top of your head tenderly, and warm lips will always whisper nice words to you that will definitely cheer you up.

↘ I have a feeling Avdol is a great cook, so whenever you have a bad day or time in general, your partner will cook you lots of delicious dishes, especially from his regions. He’s good in stews and spicy dishes.

↘ When you eat, you always talk about more or less ‘normal’ topics. You talk about your gut feelings, work, plans, passions and your relationship, and then you slowly forget what caused sadness in your soul. With your beloved man next to you, delicious food and his jokes, you definitely can’t cry.

— JEAN

↘ Oh my precious, sweet and wholesome boy.

↘ Polnareff, as we all know, is very specific; therefore, as soon as he notices even the tiniest tear on your cheek or just feels from the way you walk, talk and smile that something is wrong, he’ll be very serious and will definitely grab your face between his both, warm hands.

↘ Not only will he give you a juicy kiss on the lips, but he will also announce with a loud voice that you, as his beloved, cannot be sad. Literally, this one thing is enough to make the tears disappear and a huge smile appeared instead.

↘ Then, of course, he’ll take you to his lap or to your bed and give you a tight hug, asking what happened and if he can help you in any way. He will be happy to work with you to solve the problem that is bothering you.

#— 🍓 #jojo's bizarre adventure part 3 #jojo's bizarre adventure part 3 headcanons #jojo's bizarre adventure part 3 x reader #jojo's bizarre adventure 3 #jojo's bizarre adventure 3 headcanons #jojo's bizarre adventure 3 x reader #stardust crusaders #stardust crusaders headcanons #stardust crusaders x reader #joseph joestar #joseph joestar headcanons #joseph joestar x reader #jotaro kujo #jotaro kujo headcanons #jotaro kujo x reader #noriaki kakyoin #noriaki kakyoin headcanons #noriaki kakyoin x reader #muhammed avdol #muhammed avdol headcanons #muhammed avdol x reader #jean pierre polnareff #jean pierre polnareff headcanons #jean pierre polnareff x reader

[sirius]

Dare or Dare (Prompt)

Pairing: James Potter x Reader, mentioned Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count: 2256

Warnings: Swearing, underage drinking, mentions of sex i guess?

Request: Could you do 13 and 15 of random with James or Sirius maybe? :) - Anonymous

Prompt: 13. “YOU SAID BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!” 15. “I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.” 

A/N: First prompt finally finished!! please send in more! the list is pinned to my blog. Enjoy <3

***

It may have been cliche, but it was a common tradition for you and your friends to steal food from the kitchens, get drunk and play stupid muggle games late at night in the Gryffindor common room.

The fire crackled and popped, emitting shards of amber light that jarred with the dark shadows, creating a golden-warm atmosphere that encompassed you and your friends. You sat crossed-legged on the ground between Mary and Marlene Marlene while the boys - James, Sirius, Remus and Peter - sat opposite you, forming a circle that sort of resembled a seance. Littered in the centre of your ‘Friendship Circle’ (coined affectionately by James) was your plunder; a variety of puddings and treats and left-over sweets from a recent Hogsmeade trip.

Soon enough, two bottles of firewhiskey were brandished and passed around the group, and everyone was taking long sips from the bottle - everyone except for you.

“Boo,” Sirius jeered, “You’re boring.”

“Well excuse me if I don’t want liver failure,” you drawled, rolling your eyes, “Besides, six people sharing from the same bottle? That’s unsanitary.”

“What? You worried you’ll catch boy cooties,” Sirius teased, “Because last time I checked, you didn’t mind boy cooties when I saw you making out with Prongs in the broom closet last week. And trust me, none of that was exactly ‘sanitary’.”

You felt your face glow with embarrassment as laughter bubbled over the group. You glanced at James, at the little curl of his lips that wasn’t quite as mischievous as a smirk, but not as open and carefree as a smile. It was somewhere in between...like he wasn’t embarrassed of kissing you, of even being lumped in the same sentence as you. It made your heart swell, your cheeks no longer warm from embarrassment.

“Why don’t we stop harassing (Y/N) and Potter and get on with some games!” Marlene urged, gracefully saving you from Sirius.

“Yes!” Peter agreed, “I managed to find a load of fun muggle games in this book!”

He pulled out a book from his bag and brandished it before you friends.

“101 Party Games to Play at your Bachelorette Party,” Remus read aloud, frowning, “Some how, I don’t like the sound of that.”

“I do!” Mary said eagerly, leaning forward to get a good look at the book.

“Whats a Bachelorette Party?” asked Marlene, brows knitted in confusion.

“It’s a party where a bride and her bridal party celebrate her last night as a ‘single’ woman,” Mary explained excitedly, “My mums been to loads. She always comes back with weird penis shaped memorabilia.”

“Well, what’s the hold up, Wormtail?” James asked, grinning broadly, “Let’s crack it open!”

Peter dropped the book in the middle of the circle and sat back as Sirius opened the first page. A devilish grin spread slowly across his face as he read the index.

“This is brilliant!” Sirius laughed, flicking the page, “’Stick it in the Hole’ a game inspired by all those sex ed classes you pretended to listen to in High School. Two people are required, much like the real thing.”

“Muggles are insane…” Marlene decided.

“Dunk the Weenie in the Creampie,” Sirius continued, “The only time when it is encouraged to be bad at cooking. Simply tie a sausage to your waist with a short rope and try to dunk the sausage in the centre of a cream pie. Beware, this game is messy.”

“Yeah, I’m not playing that,” said Remus, disapprovingly, “I’m not sure what’s worse; having to embarrass myself by grinding on a cream pie in front of my friends or watching you lot do it.”

“Agreed,” said Peter, who was blushing furiously.

“What about this?” Sirius perked up, reading intently, “Bridal Truth or Dare. A sexy twist on a classic game. Players must reveal deep truths or suffer through scandalous dares. The more debauchery, the better!’”

“I’m down for a game of truth or dare,” Mary piped up excitedly.

“Same!” Marlene chimed.

“Me too!” said Peter.

“I have no shame and I don’t believe in regrets so I’ll play,” said James, winking at you.

“Oh what the hell,” Remus shrugged, sighing, “So long as the fire whiskey’s still flowing.”

“What do you take us for, amateurs?” Sirius gasped, his tone oozing with mock-offence.

Everyone turned to look at you. An unpleasant burning sensation prickled beneath your cheeks.

“Alright,” you sighed, grabbing a sugar quill, “I’ll play.”

Marlene and Mary giggled excitedly as Sirius dropped the book in his lap and skimmed the first page.

“Right,” he said, importantly, “If someone asks for truth, they have to answer or risk being forced to do a dare from the list of Extreme Dares.”

“I like the sound of that,” said James, craning to peer at the list.

“I don’t,” you muttered, glancing at Remus.

You knew beyond a doubt that you’d be asked about you and James’ complicated history by one of your friends and, if you refused to answer, would probably have to do something embarrassing with him like let him fondle your breasts or something stupid like that.

“Alright, so the eldest starts,” said Sirius and he grinned, “Which is me so suck it losers.”

Everyone groaned. Having Sirius start a game of Bridal Truth or Dare was going to be excruciating to say the least.

Sirius feigned a deep look of hurt, clutching his chest in pain, “I had no idea you guys thought so highly of me!”

“Hurry up, Padfoot,” Remus grumbled, taking a swing of fire whiskey, “Lets just rip it off like a band aid.”

Sirius’ lips spread into a wicked, calculating smirk. You knew that look all too well; it was the look of someone who was either barking mad or insanely clever forming a devious master plan.

Tapping his chin thoughtfully, he pretended to think for one attractive moment before narrowing his eyes on you.

“(Y/N), Bridal Truth or Dare? Quickly now, or we’ll all sober up and lose our nerve.”

You thought that was quite impossible for two reasons: one, everyone except you had had enough fire whiskey to drown their veins in alcohol and, two, Gryffindors never lost their nerve.

You sighed long sufferingly, “Alright, truth.”

“Bridal truth,” Sirius corrected and then furrowed his brows in thought. His eyes sparked again with a look of wild excitement, “Have you and Prongs ever reached third base?”

Marlene and Mary stifled their giggles. James shot you an apologetic look, grimacing at Sirius.

Something about the challenging look in Sirius’ eye rankled you, grating obnoxiously on your competitive streak. Usually, you were more rational, more ‘pick-your-battles-carefully’, but now, Sirius was closing in on your relationship-not-relationship with James, something you considered deeply personal. If Sirius wanted to play this game, then he’d better be prepared to lose.

“Padfoot,” James began, glancing at you, “I think that’s-“

“No,” you answered, defiantly, “James and I have not reached third base, and that’s only because we kept getting interrupted by you.”

There was a stunned sort of silence at the tone of your voice. Everyone was used to you denying your relationship-not-relationship with James, so your candor was like a splash of cold water in the middle of winter.

You broke the silence by snatching the bottle from Sirius’ grasp, “I’m too sober for this shit.”

“You don’t even drink,” said Marlene in shock.

You uncorked the bottle, “Maybe I should start.”

Tipping your head back, you took a long drag of the fire whiskey and winced as it seared the back of your throat. A moment later, a tickling warmth kindled in your stomach, and what felt like gold shot through your veins, filling you up.

Everyone was staring at you, shocked and speechless. You - Gryffindor prefect, one of the top performing students in the school, rule abider and teachers pet - were breaking a dozen school rules by drinking fire whiskey and admitting quite blatantly that you and James would have had sex if it weren’t for Sirius.

Their shocked expressions made you smirk.

“Are you lot going to keep staring at me or are we going to play?”

***

An hour into the game, and your brain was swimming in pools of intoxicated bliss. It was like peering through rose-tinted glasses - everything was hilariously funny, and your courage and impulsivity had been dialled up by about a hundred while your common sense had abandoned you.

Everyone had participated in an array of embarrassing truths and even more embarrassing dares. Peter had asked you what it was like to kiss Sirius (you and Sirius had a few…flings…in the past, before you had realised your feelings for James).

“Be honest now,” Sirius winked at you, “You don’t have to lie because ol’ Padfoot is here.”

James looked slightly amused, but there was a glint of something dark, something wild in the mosaic of his eyes.

You took your time, formulating a response.

“Eh, he’s alright” you shrugged, nonchalantly, “I’ve had better. A little overrated, if you ask me.”

That had been a mistake. Without warning, Sirius had launched into a wild tickle attack, scrambling toward you and poking his fingers between your ribs. Laughter erupted from your lips as you keeled backward, lying flat on your back as Sirius clambered on top of you.

“YOU SAID BE HONEST STOP TICKLING ME!” you shrieked, laughing hysterically, “SIRIUS! GEROFF”

James was the first to pull Sirius off you, smacking him around the head.

“Ouch!” Sirius yelped, but he smiled at James’ playful expression.

The hours ebbed away.

Soon, everyone was getting bored with Bridal truth or dare and instead decided to play Dare or Dare. You, Marlene and Mary had been dared to race each other stripping your bras off without taking your tops off. While you had done it a million times before, it had been significantly more difficult to do while drunk.

Remus had been dared to sneak into Filch’s office and leave him a love note and James and Sirius had been dared to kiss - which they did, passionately and unabashed.

“Alright,” James had smirked as he stared at you, “(Y/N). Dare or Dare?”

You pretended to consider your options, “Hmm…Dare!”

“I was hoping you’d say that,” James grinned, dodgy and lopsided, “Alright, I dare you to sprint past Dumbledore’s office, topless.”

You grinned, climbing to your feet, “I’ll do you one better.”

Slowly, while maintaining eye contact with James, you stripped into your underwear. James’ expression cycled rapidly between awe and arousal, and you couldn’t help noticing the way he squirmed, trying to casually cover his lap with a pillow.

Marlene let out a low whistle, startling you. You had forgotten about the others.

Grabbing your cloak, your friends all made your way to Dumbledore’s office, dodging out of Filch’s sight and weaving around Peeves, who was throwing furniture around in Filch’s office.

It was only after you watched Nearly Headless Nick sweep past Dumbledores office when you unclasped your robe and let it pool around your feet. Moonlight soaking into your skin, you stepped into the empty corridor and took a deep breath. The air was cool, prickling your skin with goosebumps. Your cheeks, however, felt hot and flushed from the alcohol and adrenaline.

“Go!” urged Sirius and, without hesitating, you ran.

Arms flailing in the air, you sprinted past Dumbledore’s office while your friends giggled madly. Once you reached the corridor, you turned around and raced back but came to a sudden halt when a figure stepped around the corner.

Severus Snape was standing at the end of the corridor, a look of shock and embarrassment creeping into his thin, pallid face.

You immediately took a step back. Severus had become your friend after meeting him in Diagon Alley before your first year at Hogwarts. You’d stopped associating with him after he had started associating with Death Eaters and you had noticed a definite change in his attitude toward muggleborns.

“(Y/N),” he said, softly, as he drank in the view of you, your skin glowing in the moonlight, “W-What-?”

James and Sirius stepped forward protectively and Remus draped your cloak around your shoulders, forcing you behind him.

“What do you want, Snivellus?” James spat, “Looking for another kitten to drown for Lord Stinkamort, are you?”

Severus’ expression contorted into a look of fury. He grabbed for his wand when you stepped forward, lacing your fingers with James’.

“He’s not worth it,” you whispered, and with another urgent tug, you pulled James away, Sirius following.

Perhaps because you were there, neither James nor Severus attacked one another as you retreated to the Gryffindor common room. James was grasping your hand tightly, still enraged by Severus’ presence, but that changed when you pulled him around a corner and kissed him deeply.

“What was that for?” James asked in surprise.

“You don’t want to kiss me?” you asked, playfully, “Oh, alright then…” you started to saunter off but James pulled you back into his arms and crashed his lips onto yours, stealing the breath from your lungs and the words from your tongue.

Panting as he pulled away, James looked around and spotted something to your left. You followed his gaze, where it landed on the Prefect Bathrooms.

“Fancy a dip?” he asked, a sparkle in his eyes.

“Definitely,” you smirked, tugging on his belt, “And this time, we won’t be interrupted.”

***

@siriusmuch  @beyoncesdragon​ @moon-zodiac @mflufflion​

#harry potter #sirius black #james potter #remus lupin #the marauders #the marauders era #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #the marauders x reader #james potter x y/n #sirius black x y/n #james x you #sirius x you #james x sirius #the marauders x y/n #james potter x you #sirius black x you #harry potter imagine #sirius black imagine #james potter imagine #the marauders imagine #georgie writes

[bubblegumbeech]

Summoning Gone Wrong

Day five Ectoberhaunt: Ouija Board vs Fairy Circle

AO3

(takes place after my fic Hunting and Hiding)

“This… is a horrible idea Mai.” Danny was helping to place the candles, but he hadn’t stopped complaining and griping about it since Mai had told him what she was doing. 

Masako huffed, she’d been helping out too and was tired of his complaints. “Danny you tell us every single day that you don’t believe in ghosts, but the second we try to host a seance and summon a specific spirit you’re worried?”

Mai chuckled while Danny flushed. “That’s not-”

“It’s fine. I understand having the rule-manor as your first experience with actual ghosts is traumatic,” Mai tried to comfort him. They knew it was more than that, that his family history had a lot to do with it as well, but there was no need to bring up such deep wounds. “But using a ouiji board is a perfectly safe, very common method to summon ghosts. And this way Masako won’t have to act as a medium, so everyone’s safe!”

“I’m not worried about that,” Danny lied, crossing his arms and pouting. “I’m worried we’ll get caught and fired.”

“Oh please, Naru won’t fire us. Let's get started.”

It was just the three of them since the rest of the crew would probably do everything they could to stop them. Like what Danny was trying to do, despite helping to set everything up and not actually moving to stop them at all.

They were going to try and summon the ‘clock themed ghost’ that Mai had seen in that other dimension, the one that had almost ripped her apart. They weren’t sure how to summon him specifically, or if he was the only thing there, but they had done a good amount of research and discovered an old folk story in a few separate cultures that mentioned a similar rip to what Mai had accidentally stumbled through. 

Of course most people stumbled into it fully alive and stumbled right back out, only having seconds of memory to go on to describe an endless floating nothing. One particularly artistic description called it a “slimey void, like that of the infinite skies.” 

Mai figured so long as they tapped into that dimension, or whatever it was, they should be able to see the very same ghost. It was the only one to greet her after all, and ghosts tended to migrate towards the familiar. That was why it took haunted houses so long to warm up and why the attune experienced more than the disbelieving. 

They sat in a triangle, the ouija board between them, in easy reach of all of their hands. Around them was an intricately drawn trapping circle, so that the ghost they drag over won’t be able to cause any damage (outside the three of them), and seven candles carved to an identical length and size so that they might burn in unison. 

It was time to begin. They all three placed their hands lightly on the planchette, and Masako spoke. “We invoke those beyond. Those past the veil need not answer, we seek only those within, trapped in the inbetween.”

Mai noticed Danny shiver. She turned to the planchette. It was moving in a slow circle, a warming exercise to get their muscles loose enough for the ghost to use them. Masako kept speaking. “Is there a ghost of the veil present now?”

A candle blew out, the planchette moved to yes. Mai held her breath.

“Are you familiar with anyone here?”

The planchette circled the board before returning to the same yes. Mai and Masako met eyes, excited. This must be him! There was no one but Mai who had fallen into the rip, and the only ghost she had met had been the one.

Masako had a soft, excited smile on her face. This could be an amazing first step into uncovering an entire new branch of paranormal study! “Where are you?”

I

N

S

I

D

E

C

Y

L

I

N

D

R

I

C

A

L

C

O

N

T

A

I

N

E

R

The girls looked excitedly towards Danny, the English was a bit above their abilities, but they had brought him for a reason after all.

He looked pale. Like, really , really pale. “Uh guys, I just realized I forgot something important.”

“It can wait,” Mai said leaning closer in excitement, “what did the spirit tell us? Where is it?” 

He looked towards the board again, as if hoping for it to somehow change it’s answer. “It’s uh… with us now.”

Masako frowned. “Strange. It shouldn’t have been a strong enough summoning to actually bring anything here…”

“Ha ha yeah…” Danny rubbed at the back of his neck. “So we should stop right?”

“No way!” Mai shouted, “We’re really getting somewhere!”

“What is your name?” Masako asked, after everyone settled down. 

The planchette started moving again.

I

A

M

T

H

E 

B

O

X

G

H

O

S

T

F

E

A

R

M

E

… Mai read the letters again. It made no sense. Really none at all. She recognised a few of the words, but it didn’t look like it made much sense at all. She snuck another glance at Danny, but he looked mortified. 

“Danny-”

“I’m sorry!” he blurted out before disconnecting their hands and standing up from the circle. 

Mai and Masako froze, that was incredibly dangerous! They needed to seal the connection before they broke the circle! Masako immediately closed her eyes and started to chant, using her abilities to make sure there wasn’t anything that had gotten loose and searing the connection entirely.

“Danny…” she growled. 

The boy had the good sense to at least look sheepish. “Uh, I can explain.”

The girls crossed their arms, glaring at him. He sighed and pulled out a soup thermos he’d been carrying around. It looked just like all the other nonsense tech that he and his sister had tried to introduce the crew to and Mai raised an eyebrow. 

“What’s that?” she asked, genuinely curious. 

Danny grimaced, “its… uh… haunted thermos?”

“A haunted thermos?”

“There’s a ghost I accidentally left in here. He, uh, interfered with the ritual.”

Masako looked over at Mai to catch her eyes before looking back at the ominously glowing thermos. “You just keep that with you?”

“I’m more concerned that you seem to have forgotten it was haunted.”

He sighed, “Listen, I’ll introduce you both to Clockwork later. I really do have to get rid of him first. I’m sorry about this.” Then he was gone, stepping out of the circle and leaving the room. 

The girls hadn’t even noticed all but one candle had gone out, nor did they noticed the bemused chuckle of an entity that had been watching the entire time.

“Who’s Clockwork?” Mai asked, but Masako simply shook her head. She didn’t know either. 

#Danny Phantom #ectoberhaunt 2021 #Ghost Hunt Anime #ghost hunt #crossover #bee's writing #fanfic #mai taniyama #Masako Hara

[elisabettasims]

I’m told I have to give you a tour of the Hell House. Fine, but on my terms. I can’t show you everything, we have to keep some things a mystery after all, but follow me. 

Looks cozy, doesn’t it? One thing you will notice is there are no sofas or love seats anywhere in the house. The reasons for that will be revealed after I show you the bedroom. Yes, you heard that correctly. The bedroom.

But first, the kitchen. We’ve removed the stove and oven and left only the fridge and the cheap microwave you see behind me there. No cooking for our daring contestants. They’re going to have to get by on snacks and microwave meals. Now, follow me upstairs.

Here we have another sitting area. There are several such areas around the house. We are not total sadists. Well. Maybe we are.

Now we have the bedroom. It may require some rearranging once our contestants arrive but here is the fun part. There is one bed too few for the number of contestants. A bed will be taken away each time a contestant is ... eliminated. That is the reason for no sofas or loveseats. Can’t have them napping in the seating areas, can we?

Back downstairs we have a seance room. The rest of the basement is attached but I can not show it to you just now. You’ll have to wait and see it. Follow me back outside, if you will.

This is Mootilda. Who’s a good cow plant? You are! Yes, you are! Don’t worry, we’ll feed her. And now for our piece de resistance.

It’s full of piranhas. Isn’t it great? I’m certain our contestants will just love it. There are more surprises in store for them, of course. The house is haunted among ... other things. Thank you for following me on this brief tour. We look forward to seeing you again soon. 

#ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4 #Annika's Hell House #OC Annika #I did want to keep a few things secret #but they're going to have a most interesting time in this house #There are no double beds but I did include a closet in case they decide to hook up #There's a shower too #A shower #singular

[thesims4blogger]

The Sims 4 Paranormal Stuff: Developer Blog (Part 1)

SimGuruConnor has released part 1 of the Sims 4 Paranormal Developer Blog series.

Hello Simmers! Welcome to a small 2-part Dev Blog about our newest Stuff Pack, Paranormal Stuff! This pack has been an absolute blast to work on, and I’m excited to share what this pack is all about!

I’ll try not to reveal too many spoilers for the pack either, so I’ll keep things somewhat brief. Our topics for today are the new Scared Mood and the Haunted House Lot Type, plus an interview with our Audio Artist too!

Get Scared

Sims can now relish in the mortal dread of the Scared Mood! The Scared Mood affects Sims in a variety of ways, with my personal favorite, the new Scream Incoherently interaction, where a Scared Sim runs up to another Sim to scream their lungs out. This can result in the other Sim calming down the Scared Sim, or resulting in both Sims becoming Scared. This can create a Scared Mood wildfire if you’re not careful!

Whoa, whoa, whoa, it's okay!

Sims afflicted with the Scared Mood also have trouble communicating with others, the urge to panic-run everywhere, and are slightly more prone to accidents. If no other Sims are around to help calm down a Scared Sim, they might just have to Hide Under The Covers for a while.

But if being Scared just isn’t your Sims style, consider purchasing the new Brave Trait. This Satisfaction Reward Store Trait will rapidly reduce the incoming fear a Sim feels and help Sims regain their composure faster. While no Sim is totally fearless, this trait should help mitigate some of those creepy feelings.

The Scared Mood and the Brave Reward Trait are all base game features coming with the Paranormal Stuff patch on January 21st. Tons of previous Uncomfortable Buffs are now becoming Scared Buffs, such as the “Startled By Ghost” Buff or the “Thalassophobia” Buff from Island Living.

While being Scared might not be a common occurrence in your everyday Sims life, living in a Haunted House is a whole different story…

Happy Haunts

Introducing the Haunted House Lot Type!

The Duplantier Dwelling, created by Doctor Ashley! This “canon” Haunted House will be available in the gallery!

They’re like regular houses, only haunted! Although unassuming during the day, at night, these places get super weird. Your Sims may notice things like flickering lights, pipes rattling, or even creepy dolls staring at them in the corner. All are totally normal occurrences in a Haunted House, but it may take some time for your Sims to adjust to their new surroundings.

Sims living in a Haunted House will also be introduced to floating apparitions known as Specters. They’re cute little critters, but their motives aren’t entirely clear. You can try talking to them, or even offer them presents in hopes of establishing a good rapport. If they like you, they’ll drop special loot for you and your family. If they don’t like you, well, you’ve been warned.

o o o (> ‘ u ‘ )>

Learning to get along with your new ghostly inhabitants is crucial in a Haunted House. Things like botching seances, neglecting Specters, or letting accursed objects invade your house will have a negative impact on its spiritual serenity. There is a delicate art to co-existing with the entities of the house, and thankfully you’ll have an expert on the matter to assist you!

Meet Guidry

Claude René Duplantier Guidry was a seasoned Paranormal Investigator in his previous life, but now he exists to help anyone brave enough to live in a Haunted House! You’ll probably run into him eventually living in a Haunted House, but don’t worry, he’s a nice ghost!

Guidry will gladly offer his wisdom to those who seek it. If you’re confused, alarmed, or slightly uncomfortable by your new haunted surroundings, give Guidry a holler and he might be able to help. He can also offer valuable objects to help your Sims, too; all you need is to reach out!

Still got it.

All Guidry wants in return is to crash at your place for the time being. Sounds like a fair deal, right? But if you’d prefer to fly it solo, you can always disable his nightly visits—he won’t be too upset, maybe.

As mentioned before, Guidry was a Paranormal Investigator before his untimely demise. If he sees potential in you, he can certify you with a Paranormal Investigation License, granting access to the Paranormal Investigation Freelancer Gigs. Only those who are qualified enough can join the ranks of Paranormal Investigators, but more on that next time!

Be Brave!

Living in a Haunted House adds a layer of risk and reward for your Sims, and each successful night yields Reward Store Satisfaction Points for everyone in the Household. Specters can also drop treasure that can also be collected, consumed, or sold to an Oddity Collector. So although your Sims might go through a bit of peril, they’ll thankfully be compensated.

One of my favorite pieces of haunted treasure is the new Sacred Candle. Not only do they look cool, but they also help protect Sims from paranormal influences. Place them around your house to make sure Sims are properly shielded!

A properly protected Sim.

Things like Sacred Candles and performing ceremonies at the Séance Table are integral to keeping your Sims happy in a Haunted House. Without using these paranormal tools, the entities of the house might get a little bossy.

And while it might be in your Sims’ best interest to keep the spirits of the house in check, watching things go horribly wrong in a Haunted House can be just as fun too. So whatever works for you!

Like Tiny Homes, this Lot Type can be toggled on or off at any time. So whether you’re a casual thrillseeker who wants to spend a couple of nights in a Haunted House, or a seasoned Paranormal Expert who wants to take on a new challenge, this Lot Type should offer something for you!

Crosspack Stuff!

Pets get to share the fun too! They especially love the accursed objects that show up!

I think they’re gonna get along great.

As mentioned before, a ton of old Buffs from multiple packs are now being converted to the Scared Mood. I think 70 something Moodlets were converted? Honestly, I lost count. Anything that seemed more appropriate for the Scared Mood was transferred over.

Oh, and you might remember an old Lot Trait from City Living called Haunted. For clarity’s sake, it needed a name change, so now it’s the Spooky Lot Trait. It also benefits from being combined with the new Haunted House Lot Type and will have an increased chance of spawning Ghosts at night. So use both for maximum haunted-ness!

Audibly Frightened

Last but not least, I’d love to turn it over to our Audio Artist for this pack, Briana Billups! She did a killer job bringing Haunted Houses to life! Trust me!

Conor: Can you tell us what an Audio Artist does on The Sims 4?

Briana: Big, broad picture: an audio artist decides what everything in The Sims 4 sounds like. We record, create, and edit sounds to the art and animation of the game. Little, very detailed picture: creating the actual sounds is usually one of the smaller aspects of our job. We are meeting with other departments, like design, animation, and VFX, to understand the overall vision of new game features and how we can fit in sonically. We are meeting with each other to make sure all our new content still keeps the very fun and quirky vibe of the Sims. We come up with new tools and implementation where necessary.

Conor: What sort of things go into the creative process for creating audio?

Briana: Every audio artist/sound designer has their own creative process, but I like to make a “sonic mood board” of sorts. I typically like to have a good idea of what I want something to sound like in my head before I record or edit it, so it’s nice to have sound effects or music to refer to that represents my original inspiration or ideas. When I was in college, I would make Spotify playlists for whatever I was working on. I would listen to them once a day, adding and editing as necessary, so when I actually got to work, I was in the right headspace. Now I’m usually less formal about this sort of stuff, but for this pack, I would refer back to things like Vincent Price’s demonic laugh from Thriller or Casper the Friendly Ghost Cartoons and the looping soundtrack from the queue of a horror ride at the Santa Cruz Beach Boardwalk (Ghost Blasters)

Conor: What were you most excited to work on for this pack?

Briana: Definitely all the haunted house sounds! Good sound design is the crux of so many horror movies and video games, so even if we were keeping things more “Casper” and less “Poltergeist,” I still wanted to give a good scare here and there. I actually scared myself one day while playtesting another feature in the game!

Conor: If you had to choose, what is your favorite audio clip you’ve ever added to The Sims 4?

Briana: I would say my favorite SFX were the sports arena loops in EP08: Discover University. When you visit the arena for the soccer/esports match or graduation, you can actually listen to the whole game or ceremony. It was great to craft a whole story from start to finish using just sound. I also snuck in a lot of developer names when writing the scripts for our voice actors.

Thanks, Briana!

More To Come!

That about covers this first foray into the Paranormal Stuff Pack! This pack has been a ton of fun to work on, and watching my Sims flee in terror has been more enjoyable than I’d like to admit.

Next blog, we’ll focus on the Séance Table and developing your Medium skill, as well as the new active freelance career Paranormal Investigator.

Big thanks to the Stuff Pack team for helping this pack come to life, and thank you, Doctor Ashley, for building our featured Haunted House!

Until next time, SimGuruConor

#news #the sims 4 #ts4 #sims 4 #sims 4 paranormal #stuff pack

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

Shelbys at Somme: Chapter 5

Thomas X Reader

2389

Summary: Police interrogation turns to torture.

By: @adventuresintooblivion

While it was still late summer, hints of fall had begun appearing during the earliest hours of the morning. A crispness in the air that didn’t belong to any other time of year sent thrills through Y/N as she set out to find more work for herself.

If she was to become self sufficient she’d need a continuous flow of requests, which usually came from reputation. The only reason she’d gotten to play the other night was because the host there owed her a favor for getting rid of a clingy lover. Now with that under her belt she wouldn’t have to start at the bottom, but it wasn’t much of a head start.

She hopped from dance hall to dance hall. Without references or a traditional music background Y/N wasn’t having much luck. It wasn’t until the fifth stop that someone recognized her.

“Hey, aren’t you the girl who played the violin yesterday? You know, down at the Garrison?” a tall man asked as he sloshed his beer.

The barkeep raised his eyebrow as Y/N replied, “Yes, that was me.”

The man hiccuped, “Best music I ever heard. And I’ve heard lots of music. My mum used to play clarinet for one of those orchestras. You were better than any of those stiff necks.”

Y/N felt her face go hot but she thanked the man regardless. The barkeep on the other hand eyed the two of them.

“Is this some ploy to garner my sympathies?” he growled, scratching his beard.

“No, sir.” Y/N replied. She had considered it but if she wanted to earn a legal wage she’d have to do it on her own.

He grumbled, “Come by tomorrow. If  the customers like you then, I’ll book you again. I can’t afford every night, but you’re lucky enough getting this out of me.”

“Understood. Any requests?”

“Yeah, wear something saucy.” He winked at her like the lecher he was.

Y/N replied with a tight smile, her hand closing around the brass knuckles in her pockets. With great effort, she wrangled in her anger and left.

She made it down a couple blocks before her internal alarm went off. Something was wrong. The street that had been packed with people a couple moments before was now empty except for a handful of men. 

She froze, head whipping around as she looked for an exit. Residual pain from yesterday made her stiff and she didn’t know the town well enough to slip away unseen, but she had to try. Just as she was about to beeline for a nearby alleyway, filled with crates for cover, the click of a gun stopped her.

“Move one more inch, Ms. Y/L/N, and Thomas Shelby will be tossing pieces of you in the river.” 

Y/N lifted her hands in the air, “Well I knew Thomas had friends here, but I don’t believe we’ve met.”

A soft growl answered her, “Cuff her, men!”

The remaining people on the street began to converge on her. It was a practiced formation meant for the thinner streets of Birmingham. Y/N silently cursed as she rolled, bracing herself for the pain. 

Her body hit the ground, but the momentum carried her away. The man with the gun hadn’t expected her to run for it and shot off a round a foot above her head. She kicked at his ankle, using her heel to get the most force she could on that one spot. As he yelped in pain she got on all fours and launched herself towards the alleyway. 

Two men stood between her and escape, but she didn’t stop. Instead of leaning down and tackling them, she leapt onto a crate. The wood had enough give that she was able to propel herself into the air above their heads onto another stack of crates. She gripped the brass knuckles in her pockets and used her height to her advantage.

She swung, keeping her balance as low as possible. Y/N didn’t aim for the jaw like most people did. She aimed for the nearest man’s temple. Bone collapsed beneath her fist. Another shot fired ricocheting off the brick walls. With one man down she descended. The others were closing in, there was nothing left to do but run. So run she did.

Each step was a knife in her back. It nearly stole her breath away but she needed every ounce of oxygen she could squeeze out of her lungs. Footsteps pounded on the stone behind her. The walls closed in as the alley twisted and curved. Soon her shoulders were brushing the brick but the end was in sight. Crowds hustled by oblivious to the chase they were the key to ending.

A great shout came from behind and something hit her from behind. She fell hard, her hands scraping against the sharp stone. Her head cracked against the hard surface causing bright spots to appear in her vision. Her legs were jelly beneath her. Move. Move Goddamn you!

One of her pursuers had hucked his billy club at her in desperation. It had caught her in the knee forcing her to collapse in on herself. Only one man at a time could fit through the alley way at a time. Rough hands closed around her shoulders and hauled her to her feet. Or tried to. She couldn’t stand if she wanted. Y/N’s head lolled back fighting for consciousness. A groan escaped her as they dragged her back into darkness away from the crowd.

〜

She awoke to the sound of a cane clacking against tile. A black hood had been draped over her head to keep her from guessing the location in transit, but since they weren’t moving she assumed they had arrived. Rough rope tied her hands behind her back. It splintered and dug into her skin all at once making any movement uncomfortable. The chair she sat in had no back and wobbled even as she turned her head.

“Ms. Y/L/N, you know I could charge you with assaulting an officer at this point. Throw you in jail and let you rot. But you’ve faced the jury before haven’t you?”

Her hood was ripped off. A bright light was shining down at her causing her eyes to water. She didn’t need to see him to know the guy talking was the same one who’d pulled a gun on her. She gave a soft smile when she heard the cane make contact with the tile once again.

“No, sir.” Y/N’s voice broke. It felt like hours since she’d last spoken a word. Or had anything to drink.

“Sir? That’s such a respectful word from someone who tried to break my ankle.” 

She shrugged, wincing as the rope bit into her wrists. “Well you did pull a gun on me. So I figured fair is fair, Mister…?”

He bent down, his silhouette suddenly a dark mass against the light, “It’s Inspector actually. Inspector Chester Campbell. Matthew on the other hand didn’t have a gun.”

Y/N glanced up, “Matthew?”

“That man whose head you caved in. His name was Matthew,” he growled shoving aside the light.

Now she could get a proper look at him. Y/N felt her stomach drop out from underneath her. This was the man Grace had met at the Opera. Bile rose in Y/N’s throat; now she couldn’t play fast and loose tossing her life to the wind. Now she had to make it out of her and warn Thomas. 

Inspector Campbell leaned in close enough Y/N could smell his breath. “Is that shame I see? Or fear? What a pity. I was hoping you were the cold blooded killer your files said you were.”

Y/N tried to clear her throat, “My file?”

“Your military file. Once I realized what your name was, I had every bit of information I could dug up on you. And believe me I almost had to pay an arm and a leg to do it. Nothing creates red tape like military shame.” he slowly paced the room turning his back to her.

He sure likes to hear himself talk. “Find anything fun?” she goaded.

He raised his eyebrow, “Oh, I bet you’re used to people just being stunned that you were able to join. It was a fun story I’ll admit, but that’s not what caught my eye.”

She heard the noise before she felt it. A billy club made contact with her flesh just to the left of her spine. A thunderous crack resounded throughout the room. The sound that ripped out of her mouth wasn’t human.

 It felt as if someone had slipped a red-hot hook inside her and ripped her insides to shreds. The world went white. She couldn’t stop screaming long enough to breathe. Y/N’s skin was instantly covered in sweat as she shook.

The men around her recoiled. Some even turned green. Yet Inspector Campbell’s face remained smooth as glass as he watched the aftermath of what his men had done.

When she collapsed, doubled over and panting, he reached down and yanked her head back by her hair. Y/N could barely focus on him in the weird lighting. And quite frankly she couldn’t give two shits about how close he was.

“Look up. Look at me. You killed an officer of the law today, so I can’t just let you go. But don’t worry; you’ll make it out of here alive. I mean sure we’ll have to strike a deal first-”

Y/N spat in his face.

He sneered, letting go long enough to wipe away her saliva. Then he backhanded her with a resounding thud. Her head snapped to the side almost causing her chair to wobble dangerously. Inspector Campbell’s voice was soothing as he spoke, “Now disrespect me again and there will have to be real consequences. I want you to tell me everything you know about Thomas Shelby. Judging by the fact that you put all this work to hunt him down three years after your service ended, I’d wager to say you and he have something special.”

Y/N mulled over her options. She was in a room full of people who would face no repercussions for what they did to her. The only thing that stopped them was whatever passed for morals in a torture session. If war had taught her anything it was that good men gave way to monsters when push came to shove.

“What’s left of my platoon lives here, Inspector. The military let them think I was dead, all because of shame. I came here to tell them I was alive.”

“And now that that’s done I suppose you’ll be on your way?”

She shook her head. “Put a down payment on a place. Gotta job lined up that starts soon. I’m here to stay, my good sir, and I’ll say this is one hell of a welcome party.”

Inspector Campbell tapped his cane on the tile, “Did Thomas bring you in to deal with the guns?”

“I would’ve loved to see that seance.”

The Inspector nodded towards whomever stood behind her. His men recoiled before the blow even landed. CRACK. Pain. Blackness.

Y/N started awake sputtering as water as thrown in her face. She was somewhat aware of a clicking noise. It was the Inspector.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. I thought you were a British soldier, the best of the best. Now why is it that you black out from a couple of switches to the back?” His grin caused nausea to twist in Y/N’s gut.

She didn’t answer, only took slow deep breaths. That wasn’t going to be the last time he hit her. They all knew it.

He circled around her, using his cane to lift her shirt. “You were shot in the abdomen correct?”

When she stayed silent he cracked his cane on the tile floor. She flinched before nodding.

“Then why is there no exit wound? Did they remove the bullet through your stomach?” he continued. 

“No.” 

His eyes flashed in the dim light, a triumphant smile on his face, “So it’s still there. Tell me, Ms. Y/L/N, do you think old age will get you first or lead poisoning?”

She rolled her eyes. “My own pride is what’ll get me.”

Inspector Campbell opened a small pocket book. “And why do you say that?”

“Well for starters if this is what you call torture you’re fucking awful at it.” She slowly sat up refusing to huddle in on herself any longer. She could see a man who stood opposite her shake his head. He didn’t want to watch what was about to happen. At least someone here is smart.

“Do enlighten us Miss.”

Y/N cackled. “No. This is a beat down. You have limited time before Thomas notices I’m missing. You need to get me in and out with little to no markings as fast as possible otherwise he’ll know I got nabbed.”

He interrupted. “It’s just information we want.”

“Oh, that ‘information you want’, why haven’t you gone to his other war buddies? The town is thick with them. Oh that’s right, cause they won’t tell you jack shit. Think I’ll just spill the beans because I’m a woman? Fuck you.”

His eyes turned dark, “We can do more to you than beat you, Ms. Y/L/N.”

Then he saw it, the wild look he’d only seen in Thomas Shelby until now. A grin split her face as she snarled at him. Her gaze was that of a starving predator that had finally caught sight of food after a long winter.

Her voice was filled with venom as she spat, “Give me a reason to hang your flesh from the good ‘Ol Tower of London.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” 

Inspector Campbell raised his cane and brought it down across her back so hard it knocked over her chair. Her rage filled scream resounded off the walls as the rest of the men closed in on her. Most of them looked sick even as they beat her with their fists, their clubs, whatever they had that would bring maximum pain. Eventually, they stopped to check and make sure she was still breathing.

#tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy #peaky blinders imagine #shelbys at somme #adventuresintooblivion

[beyondconfessor]

Mortal Baking

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Agatha Night/Mary Wardwell 

Summary: The cost of sanity seemed to be isolation. Perhaps that why she decided to visit Mary Wardwell at her cottage.

N.B.: Also posted on AO3. 

Death was all around the coven. Over the last year, their numbers had dwindled catastrophically.

For Agatha, it felt like death followed her, specifically. Some of it was her own doing, others not.

Sabrina was dead. Dorcas was dead. Father Blackwood, her teachers, her parents––all of them were dead. She’d grown used to the taste of grave dirt on her tongue, and as of late, it tasted all the more bitter.

And there was no one to talk to. Everyone else had their own grief, so she didn’t reach out. Not even to Prudence.

Her sister was busy, looking after Judas and Judith, learning under Zelda Spellman's tutelage, whilst also training the once-mortal now-witch into witchcraft. Not that she cared.

All it meant was that, like everything else in her life, Prudence no longer had time for her, especially now that Agatha was no longer insane.

Though the cost of sanity seemed to be isolation.

She couldn’t even reach out and feel Hecate’s influence as everyone else seemed to. Once, on a whim, she’d prayed the Dark Lord just to see what would occur and felt her own magic slap against her in response––someone didn’t want her praying to him, so she didn’t.

She missed the madness, at least there in its influence she didn’t feel the weight of grief.

Perhaps that was why she found herself walking off campus, her feet taking her as far as to the edge of the woods where a familiar residence stood.

She knocked twice on the door and then stepped back, feeling an ache fill her. The woman was mortal; what could she offer her? And yet no one else had offered her anything as of late.

The door opened before she could talk herself out of it, and there stood Mary Wardwell. Glasses high on her nose, a furrow in her brow. “Agatha, what are you––?“

“I thought you were owed an explanation. After everything.”

She opened the door wider, and she was bid entry inside the home. Twice before she’d been inside Mary’s cottage. Once, on the first day after Mary joined her and Father Blackwood, they went as a unit to discuss everything. And the second time, by chance, for dinner––because Mary worried she wasn't eating well enough.  

As Mary placed on the kettle to make a pot of tea, Agatha's eyes drew around her home. Not much had changed, though she noticed the alcohol was no longer sitting out.

Agatha stepped into the kitchen, feeling her feet press on the linoleum. She’d wondered once what mortals did with themselves in their short lives. Her and Mary Wardwell were a similar age, not that anyone would know by looking at them both. And yet in all of her years, Agatha couldn’t recall what she’d done.

She’d lived in the orphanage, and then the Academy. Only in the last year did it feel like things were occurring outside of alcohol, sex and school.

“Sugar?”

“Two,” she confirmed and watched as Mary dropped two cubes of sugar into her tea before stirring it.  

They sat at the kitchen table and still Agatha tried to piece why she was here. What could a mortal offer her as her cup was placed before her.

“I’ve been worried about you. I tried to find the school, but…”

“It’s warded against mortals,” she advised as Mary settled into a chair opposite her. The conversation paused, and the only noise in the room was the quiet sound of a clock ticking on the wall. She wasn't sure what to say, so she tapped her nails against the cup, trying to find the words.

“You said you wanted to explain something to me?” Mary prompted.

“Father Blackwood is dead. Well….as dead as he can get. Prudence took a chainsaw to him and spread him to the corners of the earth. Fitting in some ways.”

Mary blinked, and then nodded, taking in the words as she set her cup down on the table. “Prudence is your sister. Her and Dorcas,” she recalled. “But she was Blackwood’s other daughter, is that correct?”

“Dorcas is…is also gone,” Agatha said, swallowing as she felt the words. She could still feel her sister’s lips against her own. For a moment, it’d been sweet, and then the taste of grave dirt had returned, and there was nothing that could remove the taste. Not food, nor drink, nor sex or blood. “Dead. Forever. I think…I think I did it. In the madness, I suffered. I think I––“ she paused, watching the tea leaves float in her cup.

Perhaps she should try and read her fortune. She’d probably see a banshee or the grim––some omen of death, anyway.

Mary’s hand clasped over her own, and it's warm drawing over hers.

That was one of the things they didn’t teach at the Academy. Mortals were warm. Warmer than witches.

Was that why Sabrina––?

No, Sabrina was dead. She couldn’t allow herself to fill with questions for the dead.

“I once promised to show you how us mortals bake,” she said. “How about we make spree almond biscuits? They’d go quite nicely with the tea, and I should have all the ingredients.”

She wanted to say that the tea would be cold by the time they were finished, but that wasn’t the point. So she nodded and rose, standing beside Mary.

Mary had her wash her hands and then pulled out an apron for them both to wear. One by one, she gathered all of the ingredients they required, and pulled out the necessary implements, setting them down on the kitchen bench, so they stood side-by-side.

Kitchen witchery was old magic; it dated back to the roots of magic, to Lilith. Most old families passed on recipes from mother to daughter, though Agatha’s family specialised in fortune. Teas, cards and seances. Practices of old.

Kitchen witchery was used more by witches like Hilda Spellman. It could provide sustenance as much as it could poison, and she advised Mary as such, of the little things she recalled about kitchen witchery after Father Blackwood had poisoned the church.

“Almonds can hide the smell of cyanide,” Mary advised, smiling at her. “If you ever need to dispose of someone discreetly…outside of your magic, of course.”

“Have you ever poisoned someone?” Agatha asked.

“No. Have you?”

She couldn’t recall. Possibly. She’d done so many things, and poisoning was just another way to play with mortals. “Maybe,” she shrugged.

“I shot someone once. I think,” Mary said, her eyes squinting as she stared out the kitchen window, to where it overlooked the forest. “I can’t…quite remember.”

“Do you want to?” Agatha asked.

“No. No, I don’t think I do.”

She kept her hands busy in the cooking, whisking the eggs and butter and sugar together.  Placing four in, and then came almonds. “Sometimes, I remember what I did to Dorcas. I’ve done worse, to others.”

“Like remove tongues?” Mary asked, and there was a gentle tease in the way she asked the question. Somehow, whether through circumstances predating the eldritch terrors or because of her and Father Blackwood, Mary’s views of death had shifted.

Or maybe she’d always been that way, and the good Christian values just held over that.

“I’ve done worse,” she advised softly. She didn’t feel bad about all the death and pain she wrought––especially not about the mine collapse. But the death of her sister, even madness inflicted, left a hole in her heart.  “Dorcas hurts,” she advised.  

“You loved her,” Mary advised. “When we hurt the ones we love, it hurts us in return, no matter how much we might pretend it doesn’t.” She stopped then, and then drew in a breath, looking pale. “Here, the next step is that we cut the dough into pieces.”

Agatha followed the instructions, watching as Mary guided her like she was one of her students. Usually, Agatha would be resistant to the direction. Deliberately not follow instructions, but as of late, she was so tired. And Mary wasn’t like any of her other instructors––certainly not like anyone from the Academy.

There was a kindness she didn’t expect, in how she guided her. Even now.

“Good job,” Mary said, pressing a hand to her shoulder and squeezed. Agatha felt as if she might collapse at the pressure of it. How could someone have done what they did, and still be kind?

“They’re uneven.”

“They’re meant to be,” Mary assured, taking the tray and placing them into the oven. Then, she pulled out a timer and set it. “We’ll wash-up while we wait.”

“How do you do it?” Agatha asked.

“Do what?”

“This, all of this, it’s so…boring.”

Mary laughed. “Yes, I suppose it is, isn’t it? Especially when you can just…magic up your food.”

Agatha shrugged. “We have a cook,” she advised. “Magic can’t create out of nothing. You still have to have ingredients. Potions and ceremonies require material components as well as semantic.”

“Well, that sounds pretty boring too. Finding all those ingredients, putting them together and hoping something comes out of it––not so different from cooking. Though, I’m sure a bit more deadly if it goes wrong.”

Agatha sighed. “It’s different.”

“Is it?”

“It is,” she assured. “You don’t get it. You never will. Mortals just don’t feel it like we do.”

“Could you show me?” Mary asked her voice soft. “Do something small?”

“Here,” she reached out, taking Mary’s hands in her own, holding them between each other. Then, closing her eyes she drew the warmth of the kitchen around them into her hands, feeling it pull and pulse until she was able to cause a gentle vibration from her hands through to Mary’s.

“Oh,…” Mary advised. “What–what are you doing?” She stuttered, trying to tug her hands away, but Agatha held them firm as she stared at the woman’s face.

“This is what I feel. Constantly. This ocean inside of me going back and forth like a tide coming in. That’s magic. And you don’t feel it. You can’t feel it carry in the air, or feel it spark inside of you––“ and there she let a spark crackle from her fingertips, across Mary’s palms and watched as the woman’s mouth parted her cheeks flushing. “––you mortals don’t get it. You never will.”

She pulled her hand away and watched as Mary continued to stare at her before she looked away, adjusting her glasses. “Why did you come here, to my house?”

“I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do,” Mary said, turning to look at her then. There was a surprising hardness to her tone. “What do you want, Agatha? Do you want a counsellor, a parent?”

“We’re the same age,” she scoffed.

“A teacher, then?”

Agatha ached, looking away. She didn’t want any of those things.

“A friend, then?”

“No!” She snapped. “Maybe, I don’t know. I thought––“ she paused then, uncertain as to where that trail of thought was going, but there were words on her tongue, and she may as well say whatever they were. “I thought you might understand.”

“The loneliness you’re feeling? Yes, I suppose she and I are longtime companions,” Mary said.

Companion. That was it, the word she wanted––not a friend, but a companion. “No one wants to know about what we did. They think that Father Blackwood was some mastermind, manipulating us. And he was, but…”

“He was kind, at times. Made you feel important.”

Agatha swallowed, feeling the conflict of emotions ache inside of her. Prudence and Directrix Spellman had convinced themselves that she'd been charmed into doing his will. She hadn't corrected them, if only because she was afraid to lose the only place she could call home these days. But it left her to lie awake at night, wondering if everything had been a lie. If maybe he had charmed her. He'd made her sane, while she'd been around him. Perhaps he'd done other things to her mind. “He was kind to you, too. Wasn’t he?”

Mary nodded. “Doesn’t mean that what he did to us was right. You can be angry with him and still…enjoy the good times we had.” She paused, her brow pressing. “How…how are Judith and Judas?”

“Good,” she advised. “Prudence is looking after them both. She’s teaching them magic and trying to…befriend them, I guess.”

“And you? How are you, Agatha? You don’t need to lie to me this time.”

Lonely, she wanted to say, but she smiled instead. “I miss the Church. It felt good to…work with you. If you like, I could…I could come back and help with what you’re doing, now?”

“What about your church?”

“She won’t answer me. Even Directrix feels her waver since Sabrina…” she paused then, tilting her head. “We were a good team, weren’t we?”

Mary frowned her, reaching up to cup her face as she angled Agatha’s head to look her directly in the eyes. “The church won’t provide what you’re looking for.”

“What am I looking for?” Agatha asked.

“I think you’re trying to discover who you are. I am, too.” Her hand went to move away, but Agatha snatched at her wrist to hold it still for a moment longer. She closed her eyes, leaning into the warmth of the hand and pretended, for just a moment, that things weren’t so different.

And then she dropped her hold of the hand and opened her eyes, moving away. “How do mortals clean up?”

“How about this time, you show me about witches do it?”

It wasn’t so different, though witches magic made it easier to wash to the mixture from the bowls,  and a quick charm dried everything quickly enough for it to be set away. Mary marvelled at it. Making jokes about how it would certainly make roasts easier. It was like the world softened again, and all of that pain in her chest eased for a moment.

The time went off, and Mary switched its dial before she took her oven mitts and reached into the oven, pulling the tray out before she set it on the stovetop.

“Do you have a cooling charm…or sp-spell?” Mary asked.

“Charm,” Agatha confirmed. And with a summoning spell, she drew heat from the cookies, dispersing it through the kitchen.

Mary reached for the biscuits tentatively then, touching them with the back of her fingers, before confirming their warmth. There, she took one in hand and handed it to Agatha to try.

Agatha took the biscuit in grip and then brought it to her mouth.

It was good. Better than she expected. Chewing and swallowing, she nodded at Mary. “Maybe mortal cooking isn’t so bad,” she advised.

“Maybe,” Mary advised. “Though I’m intrigued to see what witch's food is like.”

Agatha shrugged, finishing the biscuit and then licking the crumbs for fingertips. It was rude, but she hardly cared––and as she looked up, she watched as Mary smiled to herself as she did the same.

It was a friendly smile, she thought.

And then, the warmth of that faded as she realised there was nothing else for them to do. Her tea had turned cold, they'd finished baking and washing-up, and there was nothing else to say.

“I...should get going,” Agatha said.

“How about…you come and visit me on Saturdays. Help me bake. It gets…lonely here, and I could use a friend––and in turn, you can talk to me about your studies?”

Agatha felt a venomous comment rise and fall in her mouth. But it faded. Mary was friendly, and if she was honest with herself for once, baking the mortal way hadn't been so horrible. So, she nodded and smiled. “I’d like that.”

“I’d like that, too,” Mary said. And then she brightened, “Now, I have a container around here somewhere…” she shifted through her cupboards, moving things around before pulling out a set of Tupperware. Standing up, she set half of the biscuits inside the container before closing the lid and handing it back to her. “There. Finish them up, and maybe next week we’ll do an upside-down cake.”

At that, Agatha paused. She didn’t understand what that meant but smiled nonetheless. “I might share them…with Prudence.”

“I’m sure she’ll like that.”

Mary followed her to the front door, and there, Agatha paused. She felt as if she should thank her, but the words didn’t come easily. So she waited, watching as Mary looked at her softly as she asked, "Was there something else, dear?"

Agatha darted forward and kissed Mary’s lips, pressing against them gently.

Mary gasped against her, but before she could move away or press further against her, Agatha pulled back and smiled at her as she licked her lips. They tasted like almonds and vanilla. “Until next Saturday,” she said, before she left, teleporting back home as she watched a red flush spread across Mary Wardwell's cheekbones, the woman's chest rising and falling as she stared at her dumbstruck.

It was a lovely expression, and she savoured the image as she carried the Tupperware, back to where her dormitory was, sitting on the edge of the bed as she tried to think about what she wanted to do the rest of the day. Maybe find Prudence, though that would likely lead to questions.

There was no way she was going to something as stupid as head to the library and study. No, maybe she would just take it easy. Have a nap, and do some simple magics, look into things that might impress Mary. Perhaps some gardening spells? She could show her how they grew crops at the Academy and watch her.

As she set the container down on the bedside table, she realised that she didn’t taste grave dirt in her mouth for the first time. The taste might come back, but for now, Agatha opened up the container and pulled out a biscuit, taking a bite. Perhaps there were some acceptable mortals. Or maybe Mary Wardwell was the only acceptable mortal.

She'd find out.

#agatha night #mary wardwell #nightwell #caos fanfic

[pufflix]

[10:00am] tw fight, mention of d word

felix stood in the middle of a circle, traced on the floor, with people all around him. he had to fight every single one, or until one of them won and took his place, and so on. the thing was, he didn’t want to fight anyone, especially not you. so when you were the first one to go to him, he panicked. you got around him and pushed him where your spot was.

“alright, let’s start with y/n instead,” the big boss said.

he was training fighters but some of them never asked for it. like you or felix. he knew how to choose people who had capabilities. somehow he knew before the people themselves. still, there was all kind of age and shape, from 15 to 55 years old.

one by one, they came at you, and one by one, they stumbled back to their places. you were one of the best fighters, receiving 1 punch while giving 10.

everyone was down, so a guard pushed felix back to you.

“i don’t want to fight you.”

“me neither, but we’ll have to if we don’t want to die.” your words were harsh, but it was only because of the twenty asses you just had to kick.

“come on, fight, you’ll have plenty of times to kiss afterwards.”

you were two blushing mess before you heard a guard loading his gun.

you started punching felix’s shoulders rather gently. “we have to fight. they’re watching.”

“i don’t want to hurt you.”

“don’t worry about me,” you said with a determined nod.

and so, you kicked him in the ribs to start the fight. a series of punches and kicks and dodges could be seen by the others and the big boss. after five minutes of intense fight, you ended up straddling him, your fist in the air in his direction, your other hand flat on his torso, where you could feel his quick heartbeat.

felix’s eyes were telling you he was proud of you, and you were trying to tell him you were sorry.

as your fist lowered, you heard the big boss again. “finish him and the seance will be over.”

“i’m sorry, lix.”

“it’s alright, do it.”

with one strong punch, you knocked him out.

#kpop #writing #lee felix #stray kids #fighter felix #lee yongbok #lee felix x reader #oneshot #imagine #blurbs #stray kids x gender neutral reader #[10:00am] #skz x reader

[shiny-procrastinates]

(re)Watching Magia Record S1 - part 5

part 4 here

Hello everyone and welcome back to this... thing. Last time, we met Tsuruno, who I forgot to mention is voiced by the TrySail member we hadn't seen yet, Natsukawa Shiina. After meeting Tsuruno, our girls join Yachiyo in investigating the rumor of the Seance Shrine, that they in fact find, and left off with them meeting the people they were looking for. Are those the real deal? Guess we'll have to watch to find out.

Puella Magi Madoka Magica Side Story: Magia Record S1 episode 5

Rather than going back to where we left off right away, we are first treated to a flashback to the person Yachiyo asked to meet. 

and of course, that inverted "sayonara" there in the background doesn't mean anything, nope.

Just by this little scene, we can guess that the person Yachiyo's searching for was also interested in the rumors about salvation. Yachiyo, however, doesn't wish to be saved like this person does. So what exactly happened to Yachiyo's friend?

Back to where we left off, Yachiyo and Iroha meet the people they had written the names of. Iroha runs after and hugs Ui, but the situation is quite strange. When Iroha takes a step back, this Ui starts repeating the ad about Kamihama like a broken record (haha, record). It's really unsettling. Iroha realizes this is a fake, looks around, sees the people that had disappeared and when she looks back Ui's fake is gone.

Iroha, that's a pretty concerning color your Soul Gem has right now...

While she's off doing that, Yachiyo confronts the Mifuyu that appeared to her. Hey, this one's actually behaving like a person, at least.

Yachiyo says she can't just believe she's real, so Mifuyu tells her some things that probably only the two of them should know, making Yachiyo have to concede that at least when it comes to memories she's the real deal.

That's kinda mean to say when you're the one who went ahead and disappeared.

Yachiyo questions Mifuyu about why she disappeared and asks her to come back but Mifuyu says she can't leave the shrine because her body has become too used to it. What is this, the underworld?

Mifuyu invites Yachiyo to stay instead, and Yachiyo is... hypnotized by the little pinwheel? I guess, but Iroha snaps her out of it.

Obviously, this Mifuyu was also a fake. Really raises the question on why this one is so life-like when Ui's was a walking ad.

For some reason, Yachiyo can't see the creepiness of the fake. She insists that they have to leave, but the fake Mifuyu refuses to. Seeing that, Yachiyo starts doubting she's the real Mifuyu again.

...really, what is up with that pinwheel? Yachiyo stares into it again and is, uh... cursed? I guess.

Seeing that, Iroha threatens the fake Mifuyu, who decides Iroha's the reason why Yachiyo won't stay so she has to erase her.

Mifuyu jumps around with her chakram hula hoop, boasting about her relation with Yachiyo, before attacking.

Can't really screenshot this but Mifuyu's movements while dodging Iroha's bolts are really nice, she’s like a ballerina.

...also, Iroha, your aim sucks. Though nice job noticing the hoop was also a boomerang.

...well, guess you're the one who has a void to fill in now. (this shot’s so nice)

being meguca is suffering.

Yachiyo defeats the fake Mifuyu with a fair deal of colateral damage to her sanity points. She cleans her Soul Gem with great difficulty, but the amount the Grief Seed she had in hand could clean was not enough. So Iroha comes in and uses her own spare one (which I think is the one she received from Yachiyo in ep1) to finish cleaning it. Yachiyo protests this but Iroha says she can't just abandon her.

When that's done, Tsuruno comes in to join them. Shes says the familiars outside suddenly disappeared, so she got worried and came here.

It seems like since they defeated the fakes, the master of this barrier decided to deal with them itself.

The girls try to put in some damage, but not even op Yachiyo's attacks manage to make a lasting effect. When Tsuruno loses her flames, Yachiyo creates a bullet hell and tells them to find a way out while she distracts the thing, but apparently Iroha's still on the "need to get stronger" mentality and refuses to back out, only to get wrecked.

Uhhhh... That's not very good. Are we losing our protagonist only five episodes in?

...this face is kinda heart-breaking. It's actually honestly impressive that she didn't witch out right then and there considering how unsettling fake Ui was and how her Soul Gem was already impure by then.

Iroha passes out, so Yachiyo carries her and Tsuruno and her make a run for it.

While they do that, Iroha's having some weird near-death experience (...I never died so I can't affirm it's weird). She sinks further and further, getting caught up in bandages and then, when she comes face to face with her own reflection, bandages cover her eyes and that reflection gains a creepy white mask(?).

Suddenly, the bandage materializes irl and we get a Elseve commercial-- I mean, no, Iroha witches-out...? Kinda...? Her hair has spawned a witch.

The animation on Iroha's hair here is really nice.

Hey, nice haircut!

The witch(?) of the Seance Shrine doesn't seem very happy to have a companion though, so it tackles Iroha's witch, which in turn binds it with its bandages and starts pecking.

Who'd win, an elephant lizard or a weird birb doll?

Just... absolutely brutal.

Iroha's witch tears apart the master of this barrier, and the Seance Shrine fades, delivering everyone back to Mizuna Shrine, including the people who had disappeared... and Iroha's witch. Wait, weren't witches supposed to only exist inside Labyrinths...?

Not satisfied with snacking on the rumor's monster, Iroha's witch decides Tsuruno is next on the menu but, before the restaurant girl can become food, a certain veteran comes in with a bang. Literally.

Iroha's witch gets a second hole in her body and spews Iroha out before fading. Then-

wait...

SPEWS IROHA OUT?

That's not how witches work!

Mami thinks that Iroha is a witch pretending to be a human, so she's determined to eliminate her (to be fair, she only saw Iroha with the witch, so...). Yachiyo, however, tells her to step down, and you could almost see the sparks flying between them.

Yachiyo and Tsuruno manage to make Mami give up on shooting Iroha, so Mami changes the subject to what she had heard from Kyuubei.

Yachiyo, I don't think this is the best time to be picking a fight...

Mami confirms that she's aware of what's going on and Yachiyo says it's none of their problem, and she should keep her territory's problems on her own territory. Geez, Yachiyo, calm down. It's not like she tried to shoot one of your friends or- oh.

Yachiyo: “You must be at least this tall to enter Kamihama.“

Mami did say she didn't want to pick a fight with Kamihama's magical girls, so she decides to retreat quietly for the day, but not before leaving some veteran advice for Tsuruno:

Which girl, Mami? Yachiyo or Iroha?

Leaving this cryptic piece of advice, Mami takes off, as well as the chibi Kyuubei, that she conveniently didn't see.

Inside Iroha's mind, she's freed from being a temporary mummy and instead starts having a weird dream.

In the near future, you'll get targeted ads in your dreams.

"I didn't sign up for this."

Iroha can't catch a break.

When she wakes up, Iroha's in an unknown room. She notices that her Soul Gem is completely clean now. Very suspicious.

I may or may not have an absurd amount of screenshots of this place to use as reference for drawing.

Iroha does some exploring and finds Yachiyo, because this is Yachiyo's place. Yachiyo says she carried her there since she was unconscious, and asks if she wants to call her parents, to which Iroha just shakes her head quietly. Of course, Iroha's parents aren't around so there's no real point in her calling them. Convenient in this situation, but kinda sad all around. Yachiyo doesn't pry.

Iroha realizes she must've been there a while and makes to leave immediately but Yachiyo points out it's past the hour public transport works (even in the near future, huh). While Iroha's visibly troubled, Yachiyo suggests she just stay over for the night.

...now Yachiyo I get telling a middle schooler to not walk about this late at night, but isn't that the time most magical girls act? lol

Dunno what this is but it looks good.

While Yachiyo prepares dinner, Iroha asks if there's anything she can help with, but Yachiyo just tells her to go rest some more, which she does.

"I have school tomorrow!" "...oh, it's Saturday." This is so relatable. Even when you're not at school anymore.

I shouldn't be that long since Iroha's parents left, but as expected it must be really lonely being all alone like this, with no friends and only an empty room reminding her of what she lost. Poor Iroha (man, how many more times will I have to write this...).

Sometime later, Yachiyo comes to call Iroha for dinner, but...

Yachiyo repeats her phrase from the begging of this episode, but with more parts now.

Yachiyo had told Iroha just the episode before that Iroha was held down by her past but, as it turns out, Yachiyo is even more so. These two's suffering is actually very alike: Both lost someone that meant the world to them, and now are searching for their lost parts while bearing their loneliness.

It's a short scene, but it's quietly one of the best ones until now in my opinion. It's beautiful, and does a great job in starting to touch upon Yachiyo's true nature. Even the kinda on-the-nose shot of her being "trapped" by the window is good. 10/10 on this one.

Oh, also, if I had to give one difference between Yachiyo and Iroha in this context, it'd be that while Iroha is adamant that her sister existed and that she'll find her somehow, Yachiyo's way of talking about Mifuyu don't sound like she thinks they'll meet again sometime, despite her searching for her. From my point of view, there are two reasons for this: one is that Iroha might just break if she ever stops believing. Could you imagine? Realizing the sister you've traded your soul for, your only friend and most important thing, never actually existed. That's a one-way ticket to despair if I ever saw one. The other one is that Yachiyo, like fake Mifuyu touched briefly on, has been a magical girl for years now. Whether she knows the truth or not, it's easy to imagine that the longer you live as one the more aware you are of how easy it's to die in this path. If Yachiyo has seen a lot of other magical girls fall around her in all those years, it's quite possible a part of her believes Mifuyu is missing because she's dead. Which is... very tragic.

Well, anyways...

"There's no place for you here."

It's particularly ironic to have this title card show up just after a scene where Iroha's sleeping on Mifuyu's room.

Also, DON'T LEAVE YET.

I did it again, I forgot there were after-credit scenes, again!

Somewhere else, Momoko's team was getting their butt handed to them by a witch and Kaede, the only one left standing, despairs and does the same thing Iroha did.

Kaede, however, doesn't get the benefit of being knocked out like Iroha, so she very understandably freaks out.

"Could I be a witch?" I mean, technically...

One thing Kaede has got right, though: This is definitely not normal.

When magical girls witch out, their Soul Gems are supposed to turn into Grief Seeds, but here not only Iroha and Kaede's Soul Gems were perfectly fine, they were even purified for them. I vaguely remember Sayaka summoning Octavia in Rebellion, but I don't think this is it either. Well, it's a good thing for the girls so not that I'm complaining but what the heck is going on here?

...of course, I already know the answer to this, but making you curious is my job :v

With all of that said (and put all in that this was looong), I hope to see you guys tomorrow as we watch episode 6 and try to put together the pieces of the many puzzles Magia Record has given us. See you next time!

#Magia Record #Puella Magi Madoka Magica #magireco #pmmm magia record

[tlbodine]

An Irritated Review of an Aggressively Bad Book

As a child of the 90s, I cut my teeth on R.L. Stine’s books. Goosebumps in elementary school, graduating up to Fear Street -- with its guts and gore! -- by my tweens. But the time came when I had voraciously consumed all of the R.L. Stine at the library, and I hungered for more books in the same vein. 

Which led me to Christopher Pike. 

Christopher Pike was another of the “Point Horror” series writers popular through the 80s, and they were an obvious thing to recommend to a budding young horror fan (especially as his books tended to be popular with young girls, thanks to the romantic subplots they often featured). But I just never really enjoyed them. I read a handful, shrugged it off, and eventually moved on to reading Stephen King and other adult authors instead. 

Which brings us to this motherfucker. 

@comicreliefmorlock​ sent me a small stack of vintage YA horror titles, because reading ridiculous cheesy teen thrillers sounded like good nostalgic fun. 

But this book isn’t the fun kind of cheesy. It’s the kind of cheesy that drives me to start blogging in irritation at 12:57 am. Because this book isn’t just bad, it is aggressively bad, and it says a lot about 1984 and the state of horror fiction and YA fiction and publishing in general that this fucking book launched Christopher Pike’s career. 

So let’s talk about this sumbitch below the cut.

The story is about a group of teens who meet up for a ski weekend. The girls were all very close when they were younger, but drifted apart after an accident that left one friend badly burned and her little sister dead. The burned-friend is the one whose family owns this very fancy house and so graciously invited everyone to come hang out. 

Our characters don’t really get much in the way of actual characterization, but here’s the cast: 

Nell, who has some facial scarring and whose family is apparently loaded

Nicole, the dead little sister

Lara, the main character (ostensibly)

Dana, who likes to eat and crack jokes (funny fat friend solidarity fist bump)

Rachael, the gorgeous blonde beauty rival of Lara

Mindy, who chews gum

Celeste, a shy girl with back problems who they’ve befriended somewhat recently 

They arrive and hand over their keys to a park ranger to valet-park their car while marveling at how they don’t really know if he was a real park ranger, because I always give my keys to strangers when visiting an isolated location. Celeste asks some innocent questions about why the group hasn’t hung out recently, and the group neglects to mention the dead sister, but the reader figures it out. 

Don’t worry, we’ll hear all about that in a moment. But first there’s a small, stupid mystery about a disappearing snowman, that melted really fast like it was burned and Lara will continue to fixate on this for the rest of the book. 

They spend a little time getting settled in before hitting the slopes. Celeste and Nell hang behind despite being the two people at this gathering who presumably don’t know each other, but they hit it off great right away so good for them. 

At the ski lodge, they run into a pair of boys that Rachael and Mindy know -- Percy and Cal. Lara falls into an instant and irritating infatuation with Percy for some reason, deepening that rivalry with Rachael. Cal creeps on Dana, trying to grope her when they get a minute alone, but Mindy of course gets jealous of Dana for horning on on her man because of course she does. 

Note: The book was written by a man in 1985. 

Anyway, at the ski slopes, Dana disappears, and everyone kind of assumes she’s just trying to avoid Cal even when they find one of her skis sitting in the middle of a very mysterious patch of snow that seems to have some ash and ice in it (just like the snowman! gasp!) but it’s probably fine! 

Somewhere in here we get an entire chapter told in italics to provide helpful background information about how Nicole died -- which involved a bunch of 6th graders at a sleepover getting drunk from stolen brandy in the liquor cabinet, deciding to hold a seance, knocking over a candle, catching Nicole on fire, and then Lara trying to put her out with the brandy (because it’s wet!) and that of course creates a Nicole-Flambe situation. Nicole is whisked away to the hospital and dies there and Lara is wracked with guilt and so forth and so on. 

And scene. Back to the present, where Dana is still missing, they can’t find the ranger who has their car keys, there’s a storm bearing down on them, but of course the most important thing is whether Percy likes Lara better than he likes Rachael. They invite the boys to come over that night. 

Dana’s not back at the house, so Lara calls the lodge to ask for them to have her call if she shows up, but otherwise big shrugs about the friend’s disappearance and presumably being lost in the middle of a storm. Celeste is scandalized that they were going to eat cold cuts at a party and sets to dressing and roasting two whole chickens and a bunch of side dishes, which is of course an extremely normal thing for a teenager to do at a party. 

The boys show up, and Lara feels kind of bad about not really caring where Dana is, except not guilty enough to do anything about it. Dana, you’re too good for these people, get better friends. 

Anyway, they eat and do some drinking then play charades, which Celeste and Nell are eerily good at (hmmmm) and then Cal creeps on Celeste which starts a whole argument culminating in Percy punching him in the face, Cal stumbling backward, and Mindy’s arm catching fire because Nell had bitchily thrown alcohol at her earlier. They throw out the boys and start doing some first aid on Mindy, including dosing her on some codeine that they conveniently have lying around. 

Percy’s gotta go, so Lara walks him out in the woods, refusing anybody else’s offer to come with her so she doesn’t get lost because she wants to make a move on him. There’s some painful flirting, some kissing, some talks about pyrokinesis and the mysterious Dana disappearance (and the snowman! that damned snowman!) and also Percy has a flare gun in his pocket for some reason. 

Gag. Ugh. But ok, fine, Percy gives her the flare gun, presumably because he’s letting her walk back through the woods alone in a blizzard. She scoops up some of the ice from Dana’s disappearance-spot to bring home for evidence and then goes to bed. When she awakens, the ice has melted and she can see bones! and ash! Ahhhh! 

This causes her to panic, so she runs out of the house at 3am into the woods and then, idk, freezes or something. Cal is there for some reason? She conveniently blacks out and awakens to find herself tied up in Nell’s basement. But hey look, Dana’s here! And so is Rachael! 

We helpfully learn that Dana’s been tied up in a closet this whole time. Also, SURPRISE! Celeste isn’t actually Celeste, she’s Nicole! (in case this wasn’t already painfully obvious from all of the foreshadowing). She didn’t die after all! She just assumed an entirely new identity! She was just pretending not to know who Nell is! 

Never mind that Celeste has parents who we have literally talked to in this book (they briefly call to check on her and Lara speaks to them instead). Apparently Nicole’s family....gave her up for adoption? but she’s still really close to her sister? Or else Lara somehow doesn’t realize that Celeste’s parents are Nell’s parents? Literally no part of this is explained in a way that makes any sense at all. 

But anyway, turns out this whole weekend was just an excuse to get everybody together so that Nell and Nicole/Celeste could get revenge by dousing them in kerosene and burning them alive. Like you do. 

There’s a lot of waffling and trying to win over Nicole with the power of friendship, and then she changes her mind about the plan but Nell doesn’t, which leads to some dramatic scuffling and ultimately Lara shoots Nell with Chekhov’s flare gun, but it’s totally OK because her expression is “the most peaceful” Lara has ever seen so that’s cool, and then they manage to rescue Mindy before the house blows up.

From there, we’ve just got some loose ends to tie up. We’re rescued by the suspicious ranger from earlier who it turns out actually is a ranger, so that’s cool. How did he find them? Why, that strapping young man Cal tipped him off that they might be in trouble! 

You heard it here first, folks. Cal, the guy whose characterization up to this point has been “gropes girls without consent” and “tells funny war stories about napalm” is actually the real hero here! What a find stand-up young gentleman that serial offender is. 

Also, again, Dana, you are too good for these people, find new friends. 

Anyway, the girls end up in the hospital, where they promise a vow of secrecy but also Lara and Nicole are totally going to be best friends now, no harsh feelings. Also Lara is totally going to hook up with Percy, because that was definitely the most important thing to come from this weekend and she’s definitely not in any way going to be traumatized about any of this. 

The end. 

distant gagging sounds

#christopher pike #slumber party #books #amreading #book review #bookblr

[justatiredghost]

Living for the Moment Chapter 7 A series of glimpses at Klaus’ life if he’d met Dave in his mid 20s. His life isn’t magically transformed, love can’t fix either of them when they’re both homeless and in a bad place. They’re not even really ready for a relationship yet. But maybe a supportive friendship can set them on a better path, the two of them inspiring each other to take care of themselves. It’s going to be a long and bumpy ride, and the question is, when will they actually admit to themselves that they have feelings for each other?

- Klaus really should have seen this coming. He’d been swindling this guy for much longer than he should have, pushing his luck on someone with a temper and a posse. But he was just such an easy mark, it was hard not to. And it didn’t help that it was just fun ripping off assholes. 

“Klaus!” the angry voice boomed down the alley.

Nope, Klaus was having none of that. He sprinted down the alley, not even really sure where he was going, just that it needed to be away from here. He turned a corner too quickly and ran directly into someone, the two of them sprawling to the ground. He scrambled to his feet, turning to give an apologetic word to the stranger before continuing his escape, but he was rooted to the spot in surprise when he realized it was Dave.

“Hargreeves!” the angry voice came again, this time much closer.

Dave, a bit slower to his feet and looking a bit stunned at the no doubt sudden change in tone his night was having, looked at Klaus, then down the alley where he had just come from, then back to Klaus. Klaus shrugged in a way that he hoped didn’t show how tense he was. It was just an average Tuesday night for me, no need to worry!

Without hesitating, Dave grabbed his hand and started sprinting away. Klaus knew they were headed for a dead end and nearly pulled free, but he trusted Dave. It was a wild thought, but he did. Thankfully, Dave seemed to know what he was doing. 

He headed directly for a door half hidden behind some trash next to a dumpster. Thankfully, it could open enough for them to slip inside, hopefully leaving the outside looking as if it had been undisturbed. There was a 2x4 lying on the ground, perhaps left here the last time repairs had been attempted on the place, but Dave grabbed it and managed to wedge it under the handle of the door, jamming it in place.

As Dave turned to lead the way upstairs, Klaus felt suddenly disappointed that he didn’t take his hand again. He shut down that thought immediately and followed up a few flights of stairs out onto the roof of the building, overlooking the darkened city. It was peaceful up here, except for the yelling voices Klaus could still hear distantly below. 

“So, you’re having an exciting night,” Dave chuckled, taking a seat and making himself comfortable. 

“It’s not my fault they’re completely overreacting,” Klaus joked, dropping down next to him because it probably was going to be a while before they stopped looking for him. “I mean, he had so much tacky jewelry, you’d think he was just begging to be robbed.”

Dave laughed, shaking his head incredulously. “You should probably be a little more careful with who you con. Pick an easier target.”

“Well, that’s no fun,” Klaus replied. “But, in theory, if I were to consider it, who would you recommend? You?”

“Sure!” Dave said, much too enthusiastically. “Here, you can even have my second to last cigarette.” He pulled out a pack and handed one over. Sadly it was normal and store-bought, not one of the hand-rolled wonders that could contain any number of drugs. He still accepted it, who was he to turn down a free gift?

“What about your last one?” Klaus asked.

“Sorry, that one’s already spoken for,” Dave said, holding it up before bringing it to his own lips and lighting it.

“Oh, I see how it is,” Klaus chuckled. 

“I’ll at least share this with you,” Dave said, pulling out a bag of peanuts and passing it over before reiterating. “Share. Those are my favorite and I was planning on enjoying them.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Klaus said, taking a handful and popping them into his mouth. Then, he pulled one out and held it up. “Here.” He tossed it and Dave caught it in his mouth. 

“Nice,” Dave said, before holding one up to return the favor. “You’re turn.”

“So who told you about this place?” He wasn’t successful at catching it in his mouth and had to fumble to stop it from dropping on the ground. “I thought I knew all the best places.”

“A friend took me here once,” Dave said as they continued their game, throwing peanuts back and forth. 

“Oh? I didn’t realize this was the current popular spot for people to go to get frisky.”

“No, it’s not like that,” Dave chuckled, shaking his head, throwing a peanut directly at him this time, before going back to gently tossing it in an arc so he could more easily catch it as if to apologize. 

“Right, right, of course,” Klaus said. “Well, since we’re gonna be stuck up he for a bit--”

“We?” Dave echoed.

“Okay, fine,” Klaus said, rolling his eyes. “Since I’m going to be stuck up here for a bit, and you seem determined to keep me company, tell me a bit about yourself. You from around here?”

“Nah, I moved here after I got back from my tour. I’m from Texas, originally.”

“Well, that’s quite the change.”

“Yeah, well, I figured I could use it. What about you? You from here?”

“Born and raised,” Klaus said. “I’m shocked you don’t already know that.”

“I got the feeling you were pretty popular around here, but I didn’t know you were famous too.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Klaus said. It was kind of nice, talking to someone who didn’t know he was the Seance, so he didn’t particularly want to continue that conversation and jog his memory. “You know, we’ve really gotta stop running into each other like this. This city isn’t small, and yet we keep bumping into each other.” 

“Maybe it’s because I was just thinking about how fun it would be to have a little adventure,” Dave said. 

“There has to be better ways to get your kicks, my man,” Klaus said, eating another handful of nuts before tossing one to Dave again.

“I suppose hanging out on a rooftop isn’t exactly the most exciting thing in the world,” Dave said. “What would you recommend?”

“I think we can probably sneak away, now, so come with me,” Klaus said, jumping to his feet. “It’s time to tour the town, see the sights, and all that.”

“Oh, cool, I never did get a proper tour when I arrived,” Dave said, eagerly standing as well.

“Happy to oblige. What better way to thank you for getting me out of a tight spot?”

“Of course, what are friends for?”

What were friends for? Klaus certainly didn’t know, he’d never had one before. But for some reason, he still liked the thought. 

-

They were running, out of breath but both still laughing anyway, and Klaus was fairly sure he’d never heard a sound he liked more. Dave’s was infectious and while he’d been laughing at their antics before, he was definitely joining in on the pure joy Dave seemed to be having. They rounded a corner and ducked into an alley to rest and Dave leaned into him as he continued to giggle. 

“Think we lost ‘em?” he managed as he finally started to catch his breath. 

“Yeah, yeah, I don’t see anyone,” Klaus said, glancing around the corner as he tried to get his own breathing and giggling under control. 

He was all too aware of how close Dave was when he turned back, feeling his hands against him, realizing his own arm was wrapped around Dave, shoulders. Their eyes met and Klaus lost his breath a little all over again. And then Dave burst out laughing again and that had them both doubled over, giggling like they were kids again. 

“I can’t believe you splashed him,” Dave said. 

“I had to do something to distract him,” Klaus said. “He had the handcuffs ready and you kept slipping!”

“Hey, fountains are surprisingly gross and slimy,” Dave said. 

“Then why’d you dare me to go in in the first place?” Klaus asked. “And why did you then join me?”

“I didn’t dare you, you asked if I would and then immediately jumped in before I could say anything. Joining you seemed like the least I could do,” Dave said. He sighed heavily and stretched his arms above his head. “Aah, it's been a while since I ran from the cops. Feels good.” 

“Well, then, you’ll just have to hang out with me more,” Klaus said with a wink. “I get chased almost every other night.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Dave said, shaking his head, but he was smiling. “Thanks. This has been the most fun I’ve had in a long time.”

“Don’t worry,” Klaus said, smacking his shoulder. “Next time we hang out we’ll do something even more wild. 

“I’ll hold you to it.”

“I guess we better clear out now though,” Klaus said, reluctantly stepping away. “Not sure if this guy’s got a vendetta, he might still be trying to find us.”

“Yeah, guess so,” Dave said, and it should be illegal to look that disappointed. “See you around.”

“You know it,” Klaus replied as he disappeared into the night.

Unfortunately, things rarely go as planned. They hung out a few more times after that, but then Klaus got arrested. Rehab was a better sentence than jail time, but thirty days had never felt so long. He didn’t know he could still miss people. But mostly he missed the drugs.

#klaus hargreeves #dave katz #klave #klaus x dave #the umbrella academy #fanfic #living for the moment #my fic

[myhauntedsalem]

Ghostly warning: Dead gangster Ma Barker doesn’t want her house moved

He called the newsroom with a warning: They can’t move that house.

“I’m worried something terrible is going to happen,” the man said in a thick New York accent. “I have to warn somebody.”

Then he told me a ghost story.

His name is Donald J. Weiss. He’s a 62-year-old retired police patrolman from upstate New York. He had moved to Ocala several years ago and visited the house where gangster Ma Barker had been killed. He had wanted to see the site of the longest shootout in FBI history: four hours, more than 2,000 bullets.

But when he wandered beneath the live oaks, a voice growled, “Get outta here, lawman!”

And when he took a photo of the front porch, a shadowy figure appeared.

“That woman is still in that house,” he told me. “And she’s pissed.”

He gave the photo to the Marion County Sheriff’s Office because he wanted to enter it into evidence. And because bad things started happening as soon as he had blown up the print. “I had a heart attack,” he said. “You think that’s a coincidence?”

The property has been sold, he told me. County officials want to move the house.

“They have no idea who or what is in there,” Weiss said. “That woman has the power to do a lot of things. We are dealing with the afterworld here.”

I thanked the caller for his concern.

“When are they moving it?” I asked.

He paused, as if to make a point, then said gravely, “By Halloween.”

Reporters get a lot of crazy calls. Many might have dismissed this one. But I knew this house, and so did my photographer friend John Pendygraft.

“Hey John,” I called across the cubicle wall. “Do you remember that story we did on the Ma Barker house?”

John’s eyes got big. “Do you remember what happened?”

Our story four years ago had been about real estate: historic home for sale on nine waterfront acres, eight miles north of the Villages, two hours from Tampa. And about the gangsters who hid out there until the end.

We had toured the four-bedroom house with a Realtor, whose assistant shivered and said, “I get the weirdest feeling when I’m in here.” We had reported rumors about flickering lights and an unsuccessful exorcism.

But we hadn’t written about what had happened to John. Or what he saw when he enlarged one of his pictures.

John has worked in war zones in Afghanistan and the Gaza Strip. He has photographed the dead from an Asian tsunami, a Mexican assassination and Hurricane Katrina. If he ever is scared, he won’t show it.

That fall day in 2012, in the Ma Barker house, he had gone alone into the front bedroom to take pictures through the window, looking out toward the lake where the FBI agents had crouched behind trees.

All of a sudden, John rushed out, cameras, lights, tripod flapping over his shoulders, nearly sliding down the 13 stairs. “I don’t know what happened, or what that was,” he panted. He heard the mattress fall, then saw it, dangling through the bed frame. “I didn’t touch it,” he insisted.

We left that afternoon, as dusk began to descend. From beneath the Spanish moss, John shot a few final frames. The next day, when he zoomed in on his laptop, he saw a strange figure on the screened porch: The silhouette of a stout woman with a bun, who looked like she was holding a machine gun.

Her story starts in Missouri, in 1873. Her parents named her Arizona Donnie Clark. She and a farmhand, George Barker, had four sons. As soon as the boys were grown, her husband left.

Legends vary about Ma Barker’s role in her boys’ gang. Some say she just cooked and cleaned. Others say she was the mastermind.

They began by robbing banks, then murdered a policeman. From 1910 through 1930, they are said to have stolen $2 million. And killed at least 10 people.

The FBI’s first director, J. Edgar Hoover, called them “the worst criminals in the entire country.” Ma Barker became the only woman to top the most wanted list.

In 1934, the gang split and went into hiding. One son fled to Chicago. Ma and her favorite son, baby Freddie, moved to Miami where, posing as a wealthy widow, she asked if anyone knew a secluded spot where she could spend the winter.

Someone introduced her to Carson Bradford, whose family had a lovely home in the center of Florida, on Lake Weir.

The house sounded perfect: fully furnished, set back from the road, with a boat tethered to a dock out back. Ma paid the full season’s rent in cash. Just before Thanksgiving, she moved in with Freddie and a couple of his friends.

In a letter to her son Arthur in Chicago, she drew a map of the lake and circled the closest town, Ocala. She mailed it from Ocklawaha’s little post office.

FBI agents found Arthur the following January, and with him, the letter, which led them to Ma’s hideout.

In the predawn darkness on Jan. 16, 1935, a dozen officers pointed their guns at the upstairs windows. “This is the FBI,” an officer shouted, according to an agency report. “You are surrounded.”

Some say the gun battle lasted as long as six hours.

When it was over, they found Freddie, 32, shot in the back of his head. Ma, 63, was curled on the floor, cradling her Tommy gun. That day, Hoover said, marked “the end of an era of violence.”

For nine months, the corpses lay unclaimed. Finally, a relative moved them closer to home.

But some say Ma still inhabits that two-story, cream-colored house with forest green shutters. The cop on the phone, my friend the photographer, the former and current owner all saw, heard or felt … something.

But how do you report a ghost story?

I started with the Marion County Sheriff’s Office and that “evidence” photo the retired cop mentioned on the phone.

Lt. Dave Redmond remembered some man bringing in the photo, but the deputy hadn’t seen anything in it.

Records only go back to 1990, said department spokeswoman Lauren Lettelier. “But since then, there have been no reports of hauntings at that house.”

I talked to Carson Good, 47, the great-grandson of the man who built the house. He has memories of swimming and sailing in the lake. And of countless sleepless nights, cringing in the dark. “I’m not a big believer of ghosts, but I heard a lot of sounds in that house,” he said. “Voices. Furniture moving. People walking up and down the wooden stairs.”

His grandmother didn’t like to talk about it, but she often heard spirits stirring. Years ago, he said, a psychic from Cassadaga held a seance at the house and convinced the ghost of Freddie Barker to move on. But the medium said Ma refused to move.

Good and his family sold the property for $750,000 and donated the house to the county, which hired a contractor to lift the home off its foundation and float it across Lake Weir to a park called Carney Island. County commissioners allocated $270,000 for the move. Private donations and fundraising will finance the museum.

County tax collector George Albright, who grew up next to the storied house, envisions an homage to the early days of the FBI, as agents set out to capture notorious gangsters like “Baby Face” Nelson, “Pretty Boy” Floyd, Bonnie and Clyde and, of course, the infamous Barker gang.

“We’ve already had calls from people asking about ghost tours. If they want something like that, or to hold seances, we’ll look into that,” said the tax collector, “as a revenue source.”

Some say the gang buried Mason jars filled with cash along the lake. Local children used to spend summers digging for the treasure, but came up with shovels full of sand.

As soon as the home is removed, before the new owner closes on the land, the tax collector plans to bring in a team with ground-penetrating radar to scan the soil.

“Let’s hope she’s a friendly ghost,” he said.

On a gray Wednesday in October, more than 81 years after the shootout, John and I returned to the scene. The house already had been lifted on jacks. The screened porch was gone; workers were carrying out lamps. A true-crime novelist was parked in an SUV, taking pictures.

Like John, he swore he had seen a face in a window.

“I think whatever’s in there doesn’t want us to come in,” said Tony Stewart, who had driven from Indiana to see the house in its original setting. “And it won’t come out.”

We had told the retired cop that we would meet him later. The tax collector didn’t want anyone else at the construction site. But Weiss pulled up in his white Cadillac, quaking in his tassled loafers.

“This is where their bodies were. They dragged ‘em right down this driveway,” said Weiss, clasping his arms across his chest. “She’s not at rest. She will never leave this property.”

He has felt this before, he said. “I sense spirits.”

The first time was in 1992, just before Christmas. He was on patrol in White Plains, N.Y., resting in his car between calls, when he had a vision of a sad teenage boy: long hair, pale, with a pug nose. Two days later, he was sent to a home where a teenage boy had hanged himself. “The same boy I’d seen.”

#Ghostly warning: Dead gangster Ma Barker doesn’t want her house moved #outlaw #paranormal #ghost and hauntings #ghost and spirits

[punkscowardschampions]

Ali & Ro

Ali: Look at this lace I found today at Drumcondra [the sleeves/cape moment from her ‘fit]

Ali: Dead cheap for a whole roll, we can make loads from this, possibilities are endless 🥀

Ali: I was thinking we could make you a veil, that would look amazing

Ro: Wow, it’s beautiful! [sends pictures of her fave Victorian mourning veils as #inspo lol]

Ro: I can’t think of a better way to outwardly express my inner feelings about the impending, unavoidable social interactions given that no magic ever seems to yield lasting results.

Ali: Exactly! And how cool would it be to match your veil to say, a seance table covering, or have a shroud for your bed...then we’d never have to commit to one fabric/style ever again 😆

Ali: I know you’re worried, what could we do together to try and ease that and assure you? There will be so many aspects of the day that you will love and shouldn’t miss out on, so what do we need to minimize to get the most out of those?

Ro: I don’t know what to say, with regards to the expansiveness of your creative talents or the depths of your insight for how they’d best be used to help me.

Ali: I’m 🤔 I shan’t give up

Ali: How about having a dedicated time out zone? You are by no means the only person who enjoys/needs alone time to recharge during a party

Ali: And we have the flat, we’ll make a space up there that’s really calm and quiet...does that sound good?

Ro: Won’t it be in use? There’s no safety under siege from Fearghal’s far-flung relations.

Ali: Sure some of them are staying there, though which ones escapes me right now

Ali: But they’ll all be at the party when we’ll be using it

Ali: I don’t think any of them would make use of a chill space

Ro: Likewise.

Ro: Who else do you suppose would make use of it, though? I fear the space would be far too easily corruptible for less calm and quiet pursuits.

Ali: I know what you mean

Ali: There are two rooms, though

Ali: And it would be purely family and friends, not every rando in the pub

Ali: However, noise-cancelling headphones and a barricade are still a must with that crowd, noted

Ali: What else? Blankets, books…

Ro: Family and friends can be equally as invasive, if not more so, than strangers in this instance.

Ali: I think they’d be too invested in their less calm and quiet pursuits to worry with us 😉

Ro: Not all of them.

Ali: Do you really not wanna come, Posy?

Ro: Do you really wish for me to answer that question honestly?

Ali: Ok cuirka (Of course)

Ro: Tra voae sremsk ora resrs muv, srara ek musrems I vuird rosa kura. (The way things are right now, there is nothing I would hate more)

Ali: Huv sremsk ora? (How things are?)

Ro: Yak. (yes)

Ali: I'k sraeems su raod aeuir kemd, ras ka em (I’m trying to read your mind, let me in)

Ro: I'k mus brucdems aeui, koaeba kukasrems arka ek. (I'm not blocking you, maybe something else is)

Ali: I vum's seqa iv, omd vrerks I vuird rosrar roqa imdarksomdems, omd irsekosarae roqa aeui srara, I'rr rakvacs aeuir dacekeum omd dakera mus su ba rasordrakk ek srara srirae ek mu voae su koda sra vorsae kukasrems aeui voms (I won't give up, and whilst I would rather have understanding, and ultimately have you there, I'll respect your decision and desire not to be regardless if there truly is no way to make the party something you want)

Ro: Tra kocs sros aeui'ra imobra su raod kae kemd omaekura kaark ok sruisr aeui roqa orraodae seqam iv.(The fact that you're unable to read my mind anymore feels as though you have already given up)

Ali: I'k raorsbrudam aeui kaar reda sros (I’m heartbroken you feel like that)

Ro: I'k em o raorsbraodems vukeseum suu. (I’m in a heartbreaking position too)

Ali: Arr I voms ek su rarv aeui uis uk sros vukeseum (All I want is to help you out of that position)

Ro: That isn’t all you want.

Ali: It is

Ro: If that were true we wouldn’t keep finding ourselves growing further apart.

Ali: I feel like I’m trying hard to keep with you and include you in my new ventures too

Ali: That is very much what I’m trying to do with this party, for example

Ro: I wish it was working.

Ali: Me too

Ali: If we’re both showing willing, that will make it possible

Ro: Of course. Omd I'k ksaodkoks em kae dakera su daav srek cummacseum vesr aeui.(And I'm steadfast in my desire to keep this connection with you)

Ali: Wa'ra keksark kuraqar (We’re sisters forever)

Ro: Bea and I are sisters, we used to be more than that, you and I.

Ali: Nusrems rok cromsad (Nothing has changed)

Ro: Your priorities have shifted towards new ventures and connections, that’s what has changed.

Ali: I believe in a world where we can both have limitless ventures and connections, without losing what we have already

Ro: Those beliefs have been made abundantly clear of late.

Ali: You’ve never been opposed to magical thinking and the law of attraction before now

Ro: I’m not.

Ali: All I have ever and will ever want for you is the opposite of limitation. You know I believe you can do anything and everything, Ya’aburnee

Ro: Nevertheless, our time together has become more and limited and since no amount of magic has lessened the aforementioned heartbreak there’s simply nothing more to be done, for a resolution or to force myself to adopt the celebratory mindset that everyone is insisting upon. I have tried, but this misery stubbornly refuses to love company.

Ali: We can spend time together, just not today. And as long as that does not actually make you miserable, then there’s no issue with me. I totally accept that everyone has a different idea of a good time, my worry was based around the aforementioned misery… You’ve got plans for your day?

Ro: You know me, there isn’t a passing second that isn’t promised to some pursuit or other. Would you like to come to Mass?

Ali: I would be honoured. Perhaps we could do some set up together after? No strings attached, obviously, but we could use your vision so it doesn’t get tacky 😱

Ro: I’d be as honoured.

Ali: 🥰🥰🥰😇😽😽 I don’t think there will be any convincing that the lace is appropriate but we can still make this a moment

Ro: It could be argued that it’s perfectly applicable in this given instance but I’ll pick my battles more wisely than Tess often asserts I’m capable of whilst additionally doing Tommy the honour of seeing my face, albeit very briefly, in order to avoid the situation flaring up with further ardour than necessary.

Ali: Poor you, it must feel like EVERYONE is getting on your case today 😫😝 You know everyone is coming from a good place though, at least that is some solace if not silence, yeah?

Ro: That will remain to be seen when Bea decides to take her turn, but it’s not as if her determination to get under my skin is limited to any specific occasion, her specific precedent was set long ago.

Ali: At least you know she’ll find time for you, however forced it feels for you or her

Ali: Joe is allegedly coming though so 🤞

Ro: I don’t think there is anything that comes more naturally to her than the lectures she gives me. Perhaps if Joe waylays her arrival enough she’ll at least agree that it’s futile to try and force my hand by then. I’ll start wishing by my usual, trusted means.

Ali: Time will tell

Ali: I feel like I’m going to be late, so much still on the to-do list

Ro: Of course.

Ali: I’ll let you get on then, love

Ro: Okay, consider the same courtesy extended, until we meet again.