This is early but here is the official graphic for Holloweane Week March 2024! Below you’ll find the official prompts and dates! You’ll also find an FAQ list (stolen from @lautski-week , seeing how they’ve run that event has really helped me with this so thanks so much!)
Also massive thank you to @unvexes for making the graphic! I was struggling very badly and they pulled this out of nowhere, a graphic design expert for real. Graphic design TRULY is their passion.
FAQ:
Q: What are alternates?
A: Prompts you can slot in to any day instead of that days official prompt in case you don’t like it or don’t know what to do! You can use all of them, some, or none! Hell you can even use both official prompts and alternates, go crazy!
Q: Do I have to do all seven days?
A: Only do as much as you want to! The rules are pretty open here, you’re make as much or as little for any prompt. Whether that be all of them, some of them, or even just one.
Q: What can I make?
A: Whatever you want! Fan art, fan fic, edits, gifs, or anything else fandom related you can think of. As long it’s inspired by the prompt and about Holloweane anything goes.
Q: How do I post?
A: Anything posted to tumblr will be rebolgged here on the Holloweane wee blog, but you can post it anywhere. If you want me to see it for sure then be sure to tag this blog, and my main blog @tapestryoftrauma too! Otherwise I’ll be browsing the #holloweaneweek tag all the time and be enjoying all your stuff!
Q: I was late, can I still post?
A: Go for it! I’ll keep up with posts until the 20th and be reblogging so don’t worrying if you get behind! And even after then if I see it I’ll be sure to reblog.
Q: Can I post to other places (Ao3, Wattpad, TikTok, etc)?
A: Of course! Just make sure I’d you want me to see that you post it to tumblr (even as a link) also!
Q: Can I post an already existing piece of its fits a prompt!
A: As long as it’s not been already posted before then sure!
I’m very excited and I hope everyone else is too. If you have any more question feel free to ask away! 💜💜💜💜💜
hello lexthan enjoyers! this account is going to host an event much like @lautski-week and @holloweaneweek in the very near future, but until then, i'd like to first do a bit of an interest survey. an FAQ section will be under the cut, the questions mostly taken from lautski-week, to hopefully clear up any confusions right away.
FAQ -
Q: what is this event?
A: lexthan week will be a week of celebration for, well... lex and ethan!
Q: is participating in the interest check required for participation in the event itself?
A: absolutely not! the interest check is just so i can get an idea of when specifically to hold the event, and what i can expect to see during it
Q: will there be formal sign-ups later?
A: nope! this event is entirely just for fun. if you have any interest at all, jump in whenever!
Q: what can i make?
A: anything! write fic, draw something, make an edit or a moodboard or something else entirely. whatever calls to you for any given prompt is welcome!
Q: do i have to do all seven days?
A: not at all! you can do only one, pick a few that speak to you and only do those, do the whole week and the alternatives, or any other way you can think of
Q: what are alternatives?
A: alternative prompts that can be done in place of any given prompt for a day. for instance, if you dont like the prompt for day three, you can replace it with one of the alternatives
Q: how do i post?
A: however you normally would! just make sure you use the tag "#lexthan week" and i'll most likely see it; i'll be watching that tag all week! if you want to be extra sure i'll see it, feel free to tag me as well!
Q: can i post to other places?
A: yes! however, if you want something to be featured on the blog, you'll have to make sure you at the very least post a link here on tumblr
Q: can i post an already existing piece if it fits a prompt?
A: yes, as long as it hasn't been posted anywhere before
Q: can i still post if i'm late?
A: absolutely! i will stop checking the tag three days after the end of the week, but anything posted in that window will be featured on the blog under "#honorable mentions" ^-^
bonus piece for @holloweaneweek , y'know, because i can't let a single au idea go if i try?
the prompt is death, you're being catapulted back into the stardust au, and i have the pleasure of writing one of my favourite scenes!
tw for death, injury, drowning and kidnapping
"You don't understand how long I've waited for this…"
The last time Holloway recalled seeing a face like that of the thing standing over her, there was something more human about the sparkle in their eyes, or the then warm smile curling their lips. She had been fully mistaken, of course, believing that the innkeeper had been fully human, though whether or not that was once the case, she didn't know.
Whatever the case was, the truth of the matter was that she'd been well and truly won over by the charm and promises of comfort that Wiley had made. And it had been comforting, for a while at least, but she was coming to the realisation that they could've pulled that knife on her on multiple occasions before Duke even showed up.
She pulled at the thick leather straps holding her wrists tight to the table, but to no avail. She wasn't going anywhere except whatever was promised to stars after they faded out of existence.
Wiley grinned as they turned around, brandishing a large cleaver that more closely resembled a jagged, black shard of glass. "There ain't no point in tryin' to run, sweetheart… None of your sisters were so lucky."
Holloway's eyes went wide. The last breaths of her sisters was hard to ignore. This madman had killed before, and it seemed they'd be more than happy to do it again.
A low chuckle resounded through the room, making her wince. Drawing her back to the present. She found the strength to look up, straight into the sorcerer's dead green eyes.
"Now tell me, where's that nothin' little errand boy of yours now you really need him, huh?"
Duke was, in fact, racing towards the stronghold, tripping over himself as he scaled the crevice it was hidden in. He wasn't alone; he could hear the pounding of someone else's footsteps trailing just behind, and he knew it wouldn't be long before he was accompanied.
Sure enough, he'd barely had the time to catch his breath against the wall of the stronghold before the someone caught up to him. Before he could see who it was, an elegant knife was drawn against his throat, and he glanced over his shoulder at one of the princes. He wasn't entirely sure how he recognised him, but he'd travelled with one of the princes briefly, and there was some sort of resemblance in this man's proud face and dark eyes.
"Prince Solomon," he acknowledged with the slightest inclination of his head.
"What business do you have here?" The prince asked, arching an eyebrow. That acknowledgement seemed to have been the wrong thing to say, and Duke made an honest effort to backtrack.
"I could ask you the same question…"
"That is none of your concern."
Duke gazed through the window. Through the smoke tinted glass, he could just about make out Holloway, and the crazy man who'd pulled a blade on her back at that inn. "I'm here for her." He knew that was as vague as it got, but Solomon had no business in what he meant to him.
Solomon also glanced through the window, turning so that only the point of the knife was resting against Duke's throat. Beyond the stairs, he could see the woman they'd hailed as the star- bright red hair and a desperate shine that wasn't just from the light around her. He'd seen her before. Where?
She was the one who had the necklace. That necklace could make him king. He was the only survivor remaining of his brothers, that crown was as good as his.
So they were here for the same reason. Their objectives aligned in some way. That meant he knew what he had to do next. From beyond the tip of the knife, he looked Duke up and down. He looked armed, which was a start, at least. Maybe he could be useful…
He lowered the tip of the knife, somewhat reluctantly, and stashed it back into his belt. "That is a powerful man with dealings I don't care to know. If you do as I say, we may stand a chance."
Duke raised an eyebrow, finally getting a breath in now that knife was out of the way. "How do I know I can trust you?"
"You don't. But alone, you'll likely not survive long…"
The chances of going in there alone and rescuing Holloway were fairly slim. He didn't know what kind of range this sorcerer had, but it was dangerous to go in without insight anyway, and clearly, they were strong enough to have taken Holloway off guard twice. But, on the other hand, he was armed and could probably hold his own…
Still, saying that, it was probably best not to get involved with unknown forces alone. "… Fine. What's your plan?"
Solomon detailed a plan that Duke could've sworn he'd read before in some book. This grand plan of action involved them taking one side each, because- obviously- the sorcerer wouldn't be able to fend them both off at the same time (which was something Duke doubted, but decided not to say anything against). During the explanation, Solomon kept looking down at the sword sheathed at his belt, and at some point, had raised an eyebrow.
"I hope you know how to use that," he mused.
"So do I," Duke returned, though he was rather confident in his skills. McNamara had been an incredible tutor, and he'd managed to pick that up almost as fast as he'd picked up dancing the waltz.
To this, the prince rolled his eyes. Action was going to happen whether or not this inexperienced so-and-so could hold himself in a fight. And he was not going to wait around.
Without another thought, he shoved open the stronghold's doors, and he and Duke stormed through, their swords held aloft. The plan involved getting Duke close enough to get his star, but that did mean at least one of them had to go head on with the sorcerer.
Upon hearing the door slam, they shot to attention, their head snapping up to meet the intruders. Two of them. The last of the seven princes, and a surprise appearance from the star's little errand boy.
They sighed, turning their attention on Holloway with a professional- though all too large- smile. "I speak too soon, it seems. Your man beyond the wall did make an appearance... Now, wouldn't it be grand if he got to watch?"
Holloway strained to look over the balcony, and just about managed to catch Duke, brandishing his blade like he knew exactly what to do with it. He almost did, to give him credit, but she knew he'd really rather not try. This was probably one of those instances where he'd have no other option.
Wiley approached forcefully, the knife still tight in their grasp. Their focus was on the prince, eyes not leaving his figure as they stalked towards him. He prepared himself for a fight, sword raised in anticipation, but Wiley had other plans.
They turned the blade in their hand and shoved it into their belt, and then lunged for the prince. A jet of angry, orange fire erupted from their fingertips as easily as it would from a flamethrower. Duke stared from the other side of the chamber, re-assessing just what he was up against here. Magic. Apparently magic is real. It's real, and here he was, armed with nothing but a sword and-
He recalled the parting gifts McNamara had left the two of them with only a few days before. He'd become so accustomed to the feeling of it strapped against his shoulders that he'd almost completely forgotten it's existence. But, the captain had left it with him all the same. A can of lightning left over from the stock they'd taken in the storm. That was going to be prefect for a situation like this.
The prince was trying to deflect the flame with his sword. Duke took a double check and found out that yes, that was exactly what was happening. He was trying to fend off a stream of fire- real, actual fire- with the steel blade of his sword.
And, unsurprisingly, it wasn't working.
Wiley cackled, retaining their focus. The blade turned yellow, and then orange, and then red. Solomon's grip on the thing loosened, and then faltered altogether. The now borderline molten sword was dropped, hitting the ground with something that wasn't quite a clatter, and wasn't quite a thunk.
Solomon cursed under his breath, shaking his hand out as if that would alleviate the large and glaringly obvious white burn mark that stood out in stark contrast against his dark skin. Duke’s gaze was fixed on the glowing red hunk of metal on the ground, too busy asking himself how the hell he’d managed to drag himself into a mess like this. That’s why he failed to notice Wiley draw back impressively fast, or the fact that they’d left Solomon patting off his overcoat, still very much on fire from the showdown.
When he managed to force himself to focus, his gaze fell warily to the sorcerer, who had drawn a vaguely human shaped lump of clay from the pocket of their own coat.
Duke stared at it. Solomon also stared at it, but there was a knowing kind of dread lingering in his eyes. He knew what manner of evil that was, he just didn’t think he’d ever see one in his lifetime.
A wicked grin was set into Wiley’s features, bringing a certain light to their eyes that had no discernable source. Though they were focused entirely on the prince, Duke at his distance could see the intense fire behind their gaze- unnatural and green, like the last time he’d encountered them.
Solomon had the gall to try and retrieve his sword now that it was no longer glowing. Before he could reach it, one of the sorcerer’s fingers curled around the arm of the clay doll and pulled back. A loud crack resounded through the walls of the stronghold, and Solomon bit back an exclamation of pain as he collapsed to his knees. His dominant arm was completely useless now, limp and broken, and a deep pit of nausea had worked its way into Duke’s stomach.
He shifted back- eyes wide, breath catching in his throat- and decided he’d be much better off if that sorcerer couldn’t see him. For now, a large vase managed to suffice as a good place to hide, but he still had a vantage point to see both the prince and the crazed sorcerer.
”Let me help ya with the last of those flames, eh, your highness?” Their voice was rough, like pebbles among grains of sand. Like they weren’t so used to using it. They drew back without turning, step by step until they were leaning precariously over a pool of water set in-between the stairs.
Solomon’s eyes went wide. He opened his mouth to make a plea, but whatever he was going to say was drowned out by a chilling breath of laughter as Wiley opened their hand and released the little clay doll into the water below.
It started with a cough. The prince spluttered and heaved for a breath that would not come to him. Duke watched in horror as his body lifted from the ground as if he were the one underwater. He struggled desperately, trying to breathe or fight. But the clay doll behind his suffering didn’t need to breathe. It just kept sinking as Solomon continued to try and keep himself alive.
When it hit the bottom, Solomon gasped, his eyes closed, and then he dropped to the ground, completely dead.
All was silent for way too long. The tension was shattered by the sound of Wiley’s boot heels clicking neatly off the stairs. Duke tried to get himself back into action. He desperately didn’t want to die, especially not at the hands of someone that powerful, but really, he’d come here for Holloway. And he’d be damned if he was going to leave without her.
He stared at his sword, once again slipping it out of his scabbard. Now or never, Duke. Make a move before you get killed for cowardice…
Now or never. He’d never so much as lifted a butter knife against anyone in his life, but now he was gunning to raise his sword against one man who could do him in without so much as a thought. He stood up from behind his vase, gunning to defend himself with his sword as his only guide.
Wiley noticed the barrage of footsteps as soon as Duke began racing up the stairs. They were attempting to finally draw the heart out of Holloway, and their blade was raised high in their left hand, perfectly positioned to strike down. All of that was shifted only slightly when they were interrupted.
They glared at him over their shoulder, then their face immediately softened. “Y’know, I owe you my thanks, boy. Givin’ her hope.” They motioned down to the star, who was still trying to angle herself from the ominous light glinting from the blade. “Ain’t no use to a star’s heart if it’s broken…”
They tried to fend him off with their free hand, the same fire that had brought Solomon’s demise. Duke didn’t have the time to try and duck out of the way, but he realised all too quickly that he didn’t need to. There was something- like an energy or some kind of shield- blocking the attack.
That stopped the sorcerer in their path. They lowered the knife, furrowing their brow. Again and again they tried, with increasingly more vicious barrages, but Duke blocked every one without trying.
“The hell are you playin’ at?”
Duke spared a glance down, to see if he could make sense of it for himself. He caught sight of a small something glistening in his waistcoat pocket. With his free hand, he reached towards it, and pulled out the glass snowdrop that his father had passed onto him before he’d departed to find the star. Was this palm sized glass flower really the thing preventing him from dying?
The sorcerer seemed to think so. They seemed mildly alarmed at the sight of it, but said nothing. Clearly, they didn’t want to pander into any sense of power that Duke might’ve gained by knowing what was in his possession. “Mhm. Thought as much… Say, who’d you have to kill to get your hands on one of those?”
“Wh-” Duke was going to try and ask, to make them say something about whatever was in his hand, but he decided against it. He had a backup plan to take action; his sword would’ve been useless against their power anyway.
He replaced the snowdrop in his pocket with a confident flourish, and reached for the can of lightning strapped around his shoulders. This was a terrible idea, he couldn't control thousands of volts of electricity! How was that even possible?
Without thinking twice, he twisted open the lid of the can and aimed it towards the sorcerer. Immediately, he had to hold steady. It felt exactly as he imagined operating an automatic gun would feel like. The recoil was strong, and he had to drop his sword just to use his other hand as a support.
Blinding white shocks of lightning erupted from the can. An involuntary laugh of surprise left him, though he wasn't sure whether or not it was even effective.
Once he'd forced the cap back on, he checked the line of fire to see what he'd done.
Well… He'd broken a mirror?
The glass had fractured off in a dozen different directions, scattering across the floor. It hadn't quite hit him how close he was to Holloway in all that time, but he had come close enough to make it dangerous. He didn't want to think about the few inches of leverage he had before any of that strike became fatal to her.
It hadn't been fatal to either party, in fact. Though, Wiley did seem to have been affected by it in some capacity. He could live with that, after all he certainly wouldn't have gotten one over on them with his sword alone.
He picked the blade up quickly, turning it in his hand in case Wiley would strike again. They took an awkwardly angled step, which Duke countered until the two of them were near enough circling each other, blades still held out. Then, when they were at the right angle, Wiley made a break for the stairs, leaving Duke to follow suit the moment he realised.
By the time Duke had descended halfway, they had already reached the pool, and looked up to him with a smirk. “You ain't the only one who gets to play dirty…” they hummed, pushing up their sleeve and dipping their hand into the water.
Duke heard a sudden clatter of metal scraping off the floor, and his eyes darted over to the prince’s corpse.
Fingers scrabbled for the discarded sword, wrapping themselves around the grip. The broken arm seemed to right itself, slotting back into place with the kind of sound that would make even a doctor shiver. Piece by piece, like a marionette at the beginning of a seaside puppet show, the body manoeuvred itself into standing.
As if that couldn't get worse, and as if Duke wasn't already frozen in fear, the prince's head tilted enough that it was facing him, and his eyes opened to reveal that sickeningly familiar green fire.
“I can't touch you, huh? That's how you wanna play this game? Fine by me!”
Wiley flashed out the hand not holding the clay doll, and swiped at the air. Solomon's arm did the same, arching out the sword within his grasp. Duke stumbled back as they cackled.
“All that remains now is for you to lay off this ungodly show of cowardice…” Their voice echoed as they took a seat on the edge of the pool.
Duke barely found the strength to force himself down the stairs, his leading hand shaking against the grip of the sword. Wiley was fast and apparently just as capable of piloting someone else's body as they were their own. He'd barely stepped off the stairway before they went in for the attack. The sword glinted dangerously, and Duke just about managed to parry in time.
Man and corpse were locked into the first and easily the strangest swordfight that Duke had ever imagined. The only thing he had to remind him that any of this was real was the fact that he could hear Holloway on the balcony, shouting his name and warning him of the shots she could see.
All the while, Duke was looking for any advantage he could take. There were a series of ropes suspended against one wall, which led to a series of chandeliers. He ducked to evade a swing, and barrelled towards the ropes. The first slice downed one of the chandeliers behind them, shattering the framework and leaving it in a heap of crumpled metal. The second dug deep into Solomon's arm, throwing Wiley off guard for just long enough to make the third cut, which sent the chandelier careening straight down towards the ground and taking the corpse with it in it's descent.
He finally breathed a sigh of relief and used the few seconds of time he had whilst Wiley was recovering to run up the stairs towards Holloway. His blade wasn't strong enough to handle the leather that bound her to the table, but the jagged black blade left by the sorcerer cut through it with ease.
He helped her up, and she immediately pulled him into a hug. "Oh, Duke,"
"It's okay," he assured, finally confident that it would be. After a fight like that, all deserved to be okay, anyway. He was just glad he hadn't been injured in that mess, and that his father's snowdrop had remained intact. Of course, this whole thing wasn't over yet, there was still one major factor he had to deal with first. He gave her hand a squeeze. "I'll be right back for you, I swear by it."
She nodded, rubbing at her wrists. Just behind them, they heard a shattering, and Duke turned to find that the other mirror, next to the one he'd broken, had caved from the force of nothing and sent shards of glass flying towards them. Out of instinct, he pulled Holloway down, letting the shards bounce off his coat.
The moment they were safe, his gaze darted over the balcony to find Wiley once again standing, their arm extended.
"C'mon, we ain't finished just because you got rid of my challenger!" They taunted from below, pulling their remaining blade from their belt.
"Duke, hold on-" Holloway whispered as Duke was about to make his move, immediately drawing his attention. "I have a plan."
The last time Duke heard someone say that, he'd ended up dead. Part of him was going to say no just because of that, but he trusted Holloway enough to find himself able to believe that she wouldn't go the same way. So, he nodded, and the two of them ran down the stairs together.
"Hold onto me, and close your eyes."
"Huh?"
He'd asked, but he followed her instructions anyway, holding onto her and closing his eyes. His fingers dug ninto the fabric of her dress, and he pushed himself as close to her as he physically could. Her voice was soft in his ear as she leaned in too.
"What do stars do best?"
"Uh..."
Holloway grinned. He could picture the way her face lit up even with his eyes closed. "we shine."
Duke heard something between a gasp and an exclamation of pain that faded out into nothingness, and felt a passionate heat warming his face. His imagination pieced together the details, what he thought happened there. Then Holloway stepped back, and Duke took that as the sign to open his eyes again. The sorcerer was gone. The body of the prince was gone. They were the only two left in the space, surrounded by downed chandeliers and broken glass.
Holloway didn't think she'd ever know the feeling of having her memory stripped from her, no matter the capacity. But, as the light from the candle faded out, she took a breath, seeing it hanging in the air in a fine mist. Her eyes closed for a long second, and she felt something she couldn't identify wash over her mind. It felt like relief, like being released from something that had a hold of her.
By the time she opened her eyes again, the only thought remaining about the night that had transpired was why she was standing in an alleyway next to the old newspaper building, staring at a dumpster.
Maybe she’d seen something on her way home…
Whatever it was, it was gone now. She was alone in this alley.
The next morning was a cold yet inviting Friday. Holloway pushed open the door to her diner, ready to open up for the earliest crowd. She was more than used to this routine by now. It had been the same way as long as she could remember; open up shop early, start working on the batch baking before the bigger groups started arriving, and welcome in the early morning crowd.
One of the first people to arrive was a man who pulled up to the parking lot out front in a beaten up old station wagon. With just a glance, she noticed a large cardboard box in his passenger seat, filled with what looked to her like files, neatly packed into manila envelopes and stacked side-by-side until the box was almost full. She watched him intently as he sauntered in through the front door, neatly closing it behind him.
“You must be the famous Miss Retro, huh?” As he made his way towards her, a charming smile worked its way onto his face. He leaned forwards slightly, his elbows resting against the edge of the countertop. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Oh really? Nothing bad, I hope?” She hummed, curious. Regulars to the diner were one thing, getting to know and recognise faces as people weaved in and out of the doors on a daily basis. But to find herself in the company of someone new, that was even more exciting.
“Not usually. They say you make one hell of a pie…”
“You'd have to come back a little later for that one, then you can see for yourself if the rumours are true.”
He nodded, as if he was fully planning on holding her to that. “Depends if you can also make a mean coffee,” he answered, all too teasingly.
It was barely six am. He was the first face she'd seen all day, and it was likely the same the other way around. How could he manage to muster this much social energy at this time? She found it more than a little endearing, how cheerful he seemed.
“I think I can do that for you, sure,” she smiled. “How d’you take it?”
“White, please. Hold the sugar.”
Just like her.
Little coincidences like that brightened her day that little bit more. At least his order would be easy to remember if ever she saw him again. She gestured for him to take a seat as she turned around to make his drink, and he slipped onto one of the closest stools.
“Lotta files in that car of yours,” she remarked, making the more obvious of observations in an attempt to strike up a conversation. “What’s the story? Cop? Detective?”
“International super spy,” he answered smoothly. Alarmed, her gaze darted over her shoulder, and she caught his amused expression for a second before he burst out laughing. “No, nothing that interesting, I'm afraid. I'm a social worker.”
“That's exactly what an international super spy would say, too,” she teased as she turned back to the coffee machine.
“... Is it?”
“Everyone needs an alibi!”
“Shit. Well, there goes my cover… gotta think of something else now!”
She laughed. He really was a charmer, wasn't he? It wasn't very often a guy like him came about, and already she found herself absolutely enraptured by him. There was a tiny voice in the back of her head telling her not to get her hopes up, but at the moment, she could barely hear it.
“Well, here's your coffee, agent,” She neatly slipped the mug across the counter, and his awaiting hand wrapped around it slowly. Clearly, when she’d registered the cold that morning, she hadn’t registered just how cold it was. But, the stranger looked instantly relieved to have something to combat the chill.
“You’re a lifesaver,” he mused, staring into the swirls of colour in the mug. “Looks like that storm hit us faster than we thought it would… You know that means we’re probably gonna be snowed in by tomorrow, right?”
“I know,” Holloway frowned, having caught the back end of the morning weather report. “This place is gonna see a huge drop in the next few days, if it’s as bad as people are saying…”
Duke took a sip from the coffee he was holding onto. It was a relieving warmth that ran all the way down his throat, and made the outside chill seem less of a prevalent force. “You really do make a mean coffee… Is that cinnamon?”
“You seemed like the type for a little something extra, and I’m rarely wrong when it comes down to it.” A charming smile graced her face. Regulars, she had no problem with, but this guy was a complete longshot. But he was easy enough. She’d have to remember that one. Just make a coffee that she would order herself.
“You can just… Tell how someone takes their coffee?” He asked, amused.
“Not usually, but you take your order like I do, so I thought that extra little touch would do you a world of good.”
“Mhm, I think you’ve converted me.” He chuckled. At that moment, the door’s bell tinkled, and he absently glanced back towards the couple that had just walked in. Recognising the woman, he raised a hand in greeting, and watched her give a rather enthusiastic wave in return.
Holloway busied herself with taking the first of the batch bakes out of the oven, replacing them with the next lot, and then heading beyond the counter to take the couple’s orders.
In that time, Duke managed to drain the mug of coffee. He really wished he could stay for longer, but he’d only come in for a quick fix before work, and duty really did call. So, not wanting to leave without another world, he grabbed a napkin and scribbled her a note, then paperclipped a $5 to the back because he didn’t think to look for a tip jar amongst the various things on the counter.
In all honesty, she didn’t hear him leave. The morning rush always seemed to come at once, so she couldn’t discern one instance of the door opening from another. All she knew was that he was there one minute, and then gone when she next turned around. While that was rather disappointing, she noticed the scribbled on napkin out of the corner of her eye, and went to go check it out.
Sorry I had to leave on such short notice, business calls. The agency won’t wait for me forever… I could’ve talked to you all day, but I’m pretty sure someone or other would’ve killed me for that. You seem great, though, and I’d love to talk to you again sometime, maybe over the snowstorm?
Think about it, maybe?
-Douglas.
The smooth bastard had even left his number. Holloway chuckled to herself and carefully folded the napkin into her pocket.
–
Somewhere in places unknowable, an old entity watched on from the cosmos. She was doing really well on no memory of who she used to be. Already, she’d met that man, and already they were hitting it off like they’d never forgotten each other.
It was infuriating. She was absolutely thriving. And he hated to admit that she was right about not needing her magic…
–
Just like Douglas predicted, the snowstorm only worsened. People started coming in brushing flakes off their jackets and out of their hair. The sky was completely white, and every time she looked out of the window, the blanket of snow seemed to grow larger and larger against the wall.
She closed early, and thanked the powers above that she’d driven to work that day. By the time she made it home, cold and miserable, she had only one thing on her mind.
She unfolded the napkin and picked up the phone. It rang for a while, and she tapped her fingers against the wall as she waited. Just at the moment she thought she wasn’t going to get an answer, there was a click on the other side of the line.
“Uh- yeah, hello? Hold on, Holly, I won’t be long…”
She briefly wondered who Holly was, but then immediately decided not to dwell on it, however curious it made her. “Hey, is this… Douglas?”
“Douglas, huh? Sure, who’s askin’?” Before she could think to give an answer that would make sense to him, he seemed to click to something. “Wait, wait, I know who this is! Miss Retro, right? From this morning?”
“How did you guess?”
“Nobody actually calls me just Douglas. Everyone who phones in either gives my full name, Mr Keane, or… Duke. I left Douglas as a kinda calling card, so I’d know when you called.”
“Smart. So it’s… Duke, then?”
“Douglas feels weirdly formal now, y’know?” He chuckled, and she heard him take a seat. “I’m just Duke. That’s more than fine. What about you, huh? I walked out without getting your name…”
The way his voice sounded reminded her of someone she swore she used to know, but she couldn’t place it for the life of her. He was at once familiar and unknowable, and the only annoying part was that she couldn’t place where she’d heard a voice like his before. “Holloway. Marisa Holloway.” She’d never felt so nervous about giving her name before, and she didn’t even know why she felt like that. It was just a name!
“... Beautiful,” he muttered all the same, which did a little to relieve those weird nerves she was feeling over absolutely nothing. “Well, Marisa, how’s business looking? You must be pretty bored if you’re calling me before you close…”
“”I closed early,” she admitted, twirling the phone cord around her finger. “Otherwise, I’m about convinced that I would’ve never gotten out.”
Duke did have a brief moment where he stopped to question why she’d rang him from a landline if she was at home. Was this the number he was going to save for her? He supposed it would be a good idea, after all, she’d rang him, and if she’d wanted him to have another number- or a mobile- then she’d have called him from that, surely. “Probably for the best. They’re laying us off tomorrow, this thing shows no sign of stopping.” He sighed. “And, to think, we were in for a good run.”
The next day was exactly the same thing. Holloway managed to keep herself busy, but for most of the day, her mind was set on Douglas- on Duke. She didn’t know an awful lot about him, but that made him all the more fascinating. She planned on making it her mission to know as much about him as possible, and she had his number now too, so that was a mission that she chose to accept gladly.
By the time the storm died down, she'd figured out that he was the kind of person that she could find a real friend in, and had satiated her curiosity for long enough to finally ask about Holly. An ageing ginger cat was not on the list of things she expected, but she was rather pleasantly surprised to hear it.
The next time the two of them reconvened was the other side of the weekend, the Monday immediately after the storm. Duke trudged in through the diner door, kicking the remainder of the sludge off his boots. It wasn't as early as it had been last time, and the place was already half full of awaiting patrons. He found a spot on the barstools, and the moment she noticed him, she made her way over.
“Heya, Duke.” She smiled, lifting the hand that wasn't occupied in greeting.
“Hiya, Marisa!”
People called her by her name all the time. But, for some reason, when Duke did it, she felt her heart swell with delight.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
For @holloweaneweek day 7 - death (alt) in which: in the grand year of 1984, a young witch by the name of Miss Hollowhen has to go against all her own morals to defeat the sudden evil lingering around town
Welcome to what will one day be Curtwen Week! This was inspired by the likes of @lautski-week and @holloweaneweek , but involving those toxic gay lovers-to-enemies spies that we all know and love!
Right now, nothing is set in stone, but I'm just gathering interest to see who'd get involved in something like this. I've linked a form for people to submit their interest, and added a couple of dates suggestions too, though these are still subject to change if they need to be
(the form is totally anonymous, I'm not gonna be collecting your emails or anything. Only your Tumblr handle, and even that's optional)
if you're interested in participating in Curtwen Week, then please fill out this form so i have an idea of numbers and what everyone's going
If there are any questions/suggestions/anything else, feel free to send this blog an ask or message me over at @starpirateee
Of all the weeks for my life to explode. Aaanyways speedround holloweane week! Days 2, 3, 4 and 5! Did these suuuper quick because. Ough. No further explanation needed
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Third fic of the Holloweane week! This took so much longer than expected, but it's finally here! Also this one will have multiple chapters cause i liked the concept to much not to explore it.
