#anyway I wrote this on my computer and I swear I wrote it faster here than I would have on the phone

[crybaby-bkg]

I know I've talked about bull and bear hybrid Bakugou, but has anyone ever talked about lion hybrid Bakugou???? I thought about this concept when I was still half asleep this morning but like,,,,

lion hybrid bakugou with his big ole head and even bigger mane of hair, all soft, colored like the sand you'd dig your toes into at the beach. he has a little scruff on his chin, but he never grows it out because he hates the upkeep of it.

he's always loud, growly yawns whenever you see him, his canines sharp and pointy when he opens his maw wide enough for you to peek in. he's so big and soft where it matters, lazes around all day everyday, and gets these big bursts of energy at the most random of moments. he's basically an overgrown cat basically

omg and he has this complex where he's just sooo high and mighty, like he's some king meant to be worshipped. but all you have to do is kiss his cheeks and rub a hand through his hair when he lays his big dumb head in your lap, and he's purring up a storm.

and and and lion hybrid bakugou whose tongue can feel so rough when he's feeling lazy about it, but somehow knows how to work it just right whenever he wants to lounge between your legs. gets so huffy and growly when you mumble that you can't cum anymore, just nudges your thighs a little wider with his shoulder as he nuzzles his nose against your mound. doesn't care to hear any of your complaining, because he's still eating and doesn't intend on finishing until he's ready.

omg and and lion hybrid bakugou whose favorite position is, of course, doggy style. but only because he gets to wrap your little dainty neck up in his powerful jaws and pin you there, likes how you whimper and shiver but go limp either way because you trust him with your life. he pins your arms beside your head and grunts so loud into your nape when he finally sinks his cock inside of you. he practically lays flat on top of you, just rutting his hips against your ass over and over until he knots you.

which is his favorite part because you two get to just lay there for what feel like hours, and you keep coming intermitally because he can't help but rut his hips a few more times, and hiss at the way his knot tugs at your clenching lips. sigh just lion hybrid bakugou who looks so mean and intimidating but he just loves you so much and can't get enough of you

#this got long sorry #but it had to be said!!! #I don't think ive ever seen someone do this before but if they have pls tell me #bc I wanna read more about it #I said the same for bear bkg and im so sad its not more popular to be written about a lot :( #anyway catch me in my hybrid lover era again LOL #first the whole bull farm and now this #and to think I got so tired of the idea bc so many people would come to me about it #sigh what a full circle moment lmfao #anyway I wrote this on my computer and I swear I wrote it faster here than I would have on the phone #typing on my phone gives me like motion sickness or something idk but I hate it #okay bye im gonna go write the fic that won in my last poll lol #—new treat in the streets! 🍫 #bakugou treats! 🍬 #tw: knots

[the-real-lyra-vale]

Day in the Life of an Aspiring Author: Resetting My Writing Life (#01)

Resetting your life is just a process of seeing what sucks, figuring out how to change that, and making a plan for moving forward. I really do need to do this for my whole life, but I am a huge mess right now and I need to take baby steps or I'll get overwhelmed and go back to what I was doing before.

Why I'm resetting my writing life.

For now, my writing life is getting this treatment, because my ultimate goal is to make my living from some kind of combination of writing, blogging, and my youtube channel. That makes it so important for my writing life to be efficient and organized, especially because I don’t have a single thing published yet. 

How to reset your writing life.

For this process I actually cannot take credit. I got these steps from the amazing Struthless on YouTube, who is one of my favorite inspirational productivity creators. You can get a worksheet of this process (his is not writing focused) for absolutely free from the description of his video introducing the process, and that can be found here.

Step 1. Brain Dump

The first step is to just literally empty every thought you have onto paper or into the computer. This was unexpectedly helpful for me, because I realized that a lot of the thoughts that were bothering me were actually things I was about to address with this reset. Some of the stuff I wrote was too personal to share widely, but here’s a procured version. All of the things here were on my list, I just omitted several that had to do with a medical condition I suffer from. Please excuse my typos…

- I don't want to do this emptying your head exercise.

- but it's part of the steps and it will literally bother me so bad if i skip a step so lets do it.

- its annoying that my desk is messy

- I miss my husband even though he's right in the other room napping.

- I'm not hungry but i feel like eating anyway

- I feel guilty about not practicing [religion] lately. I've just been so busy and in so much pain

- I also feel guilty that I haven't been exercising lately.

- I'm seeing a trend with these thoughts.

- I feel guilty about not working on reaching my goals.

- good thing I'm doing a life reset today, that will make me feel better about all this.

Step 2. Identify your goals from 6 months ago.

Looking at my journal from the beginning of the year, I have a very long list of extremely vague “goals” which are really just offhand wishes, and the only one that had to do with writing was “Write more.”

Thanks, past me. Super helpful of you.

Step 3. Compare that to how the last 6 months actually went.

All in all, I don’t think I wrote more in the last 6 months than I did in the 6 before that. I don’t have the data to back that up, which just means this step will ultimately be more helpful 6 months from now than it is now.

Thankfully, I have learned how not to set goals. That will help me later.

Step 4. Assess why you missed some goals and hit others.

Again, sarcastically thanking my past self, because I think I missed my one goal, but I’m not totally sure. I suppose the fact that I’m not happy with how much I wrote tells me that I missed it. 

The reason I missed this one is that the goal-setting system of randomly claiming that I want something and then making no effort to pursue it isn't the greatest method…

Okay, I swear I’m going to stop bullying myself now. 

Step 5. Identify your ideal second half of the year, and why you want it.

Easy enough. I made goals related to my blog and to YouTube as well, but I’ll just share with you my two goals most related to writing.

- Focus better when writing, because it will help me get my novel written faster.

- Publish my book, because then I’m one step closer to living off my writing.

Step 6. Turn the results above into actionable goals, and rank them by importance.

“Focus better” has the same issues my “Write more” goal from 6 months ago had, so we’ll turn that into, “Make an acceptable amount of measurable progress during each hour that I work.” Which might seem extreme, but if you knew me you wouldn’t be surprised. I always either put in no effort or too much effort into everything I do.

The other goal becomes, “Publish my book on my own website by the end of the year.” I don’t trust anyone else with my book, not an online e-book seller and certainly not a traditional publisher. I have a deep (maybe irrational… maybe not) distrust and dislike of large companies. Many people will not agree with me on this, and I'm fine with that.

Step 7. Who would you need to be to complete these goals?

To complete my goals, I would have to be a prolific author, a hard worker, responsible, dependable, an effective time manager, someone who loves their job. I would like to believe I already am these things, I just haven’t proven it yet.

Step 8. Create a system where you can realistically hit your goals over the next 6 months.

Okay, first, the publishing goal, because this is easy.

1. write the outline

2. write the first draft

3. edit in passes

4. create the cover

5. buy a domain and website

6. list my book for sale on my website

7. execute a marketing plan

Elementary. So, not everyone is going to be alright with how strict my system is for this next one. It’s just that I need a lot of rules for things to work for me.

1. Create a daily log called “Who I am”, where each day’s entries will be filled with proof that I am all the things I said I would need to be to reach my goals.

2. Starting a writing day, add this hour's entry to the "who i am log".

2. create a task for work above the entry.

3. set a 15m timer and attempt to complete the task by the time it goes off.

4. add a bullet to that hour's entry stating what progress was made.

5. repeat until the hour is over.

6. start over, and do this process for each hour intended to be a work hour.

Step 9. How will you continue when things get tough?

Now, for this next part, I will share my process with you for how I am going to guarantee I consistently make progress. But you have to promise not to laugh at how completely extra I have made it. I swear I am not kidding, I am actually gonna do this. I am just completely 100% serious about not being an inconsistent lazy asshole anymore. So here it is…

[first month]

1. set up your environment to make your systems ridiculously easy. it would be silly to not do it now.

2. It's human to make mistakes. when you realize you made a boo-boo, immediately do something to rectify it, even something small.

3. For every significant day of progress on a goal, place a sticker on the reward chart. That feels so good, doesn't it? for every major goal reached, have a fucking party! literally. you deserve it.

4. create a list of goals, overarching goals with their systems attached, each month. include a reminder that mistakes are human, but to also immediately rectify them when you notice them. laminate that bitch, put it across from the toilet, and iterate it every time you sit on the toilet to [redacted]. iterate by thinking, saying, and writing it (keep a little notebook and pencil on the bathroom shelf). place reminders to iterate in other places, like the bathroom mirror, computer desk, fridge, a wristband, written on your hand, and desktop of computer. not every place at once, but put it in one place, then move it when you start to notice yourself ignoring it.

[subsequent months]

1. make sure your environment is set up to make your systems ridiculously easy to follow.

2. give yourself a sticker for every day of significant progress, and throw a party for every major goal reached.

3. At the beginning of each month, create a new iteration, editing it if needed, and include the reminder about mistakes every time. move the physical reminder around as needed to keep it fresh. ensure the little notebook and pencil are still on the bathroom shelf for written iteration.

4. iterate regularly!

Step 10. Why do you deserve this?

I wrote some pretty personal stuff for this section, so suffice it to say that I believe that you (yes, you!) deserve to improve your life and reach your goals, and that I do too.

Step 11. Take Action Now.

When I got to this part, I worked on my novel’s outline for a while. Action successfully taken!

What’s next?

I worked on this wonderful journaling exercise all day, so now I’m going to take a very healthy Brain Break. I’m going to shoot fireworks with my family because it’s my 1 year old’s first cognizant 4th of July, and I’m going to watch Independence Day with my husband after the baby goes to bed. But tomorrow…

Tomorrow I am popping OFF with my writing. I’ve been screwing around in the story planning stages of this novel for a month, but at the end of the day tomorrow, I will hold a glorious completed novel outline in my own two hands, and it will be amazing.

Thank you for reading my blog. If you liked this post, please consider buying me a coffee. Every cent I make from my writing is a blessing to me and my family that I’m incredibly grateful for.

#long post #writing #writeblr #writers of tumblr #goals #goal setting

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Scribbles (bugsygames x gn!reader)

word count: 1.1k warning: swearing, soulmate au, bugsy is the love interest as she should be

masterlist

a/n: bugsy x reader. thank the discord for this one, bugsy simps. happy april 1st even though bugsy being a real person shouldn’t be a joke. she should be real. she deserves to be real. 

y/n is the gn reader and bugsy is only referred to as bugsy (confusing bc she's y/n in bts but it's fine it's fine)

soulmate au where what you write on your skin appears on your soulmates skin. i made my own rules so i hope they make sense but they aren’t super important so it’s probably fine if you don’t understand lol

bugsy handwriting in italic, y/n handwriting in bold 

___

"Y/n?"

Your eyes were glued to your hand, wide and unbelieving as your friends spoke in your ears.

"Y/nnn?" George sang lightly. "Quackity, I think they might have left."

"They're still in the call," Quackity noted.

Did you draw that smiley face on your hand? Definitely not, it looked too neat compared to your lazy scrawl.

"Yeah, but maybe they left their desk or something. Anyway, chat, we'll get them to answer that when they come back but I'm 98% sure they said they've never talked to their soulmate. And yeah, Quackity and I haven't yet either."

"One time, I was so sure that I had something written on my arm but it turned out I fell asleep on my homework and it rubbed off on my arm," Quackity said with a laugh. "Probably a good thing or else their first words to me would have been about the flaws and successes of the American judicial system."

George laughed loudly and you wanted to speak, but you still couldn't look away from the small scribbles by your thumb. You let a small laugh out and the boys noted your return to the real world.

"Oh, they're back. Did you hear what happened, Y/n?" George asked.

"Uh, kinda. I was here, I just zoned out."

"A dono asked if any of us have talked to our soulmate before."

"Um..."

"Wait, have you?" Quackity asked.

"No... but I just found something I definitely never drew on myself," you said with a nervous laugh. You had always dreamed of the day you'd meet your soulmate and now that it was here, you didn't know what to do. "I guess the stomachache I felt earlier was the soul connection, not the flu."

"WHAT?" George yelled. "No way! What does it say?"

"I'm not talking about my soulmate marks on stream, George. It literally just happened."

"Okay, fair. We can move on. Do you have any magma blocks I can have?"

"Um, yeah, hold on," you said, clearly distracted as you kept staring at your thumb. "I'm trying to find a pen first."

"I can't believe Y/n would rather talk to their soulmate than us," Quackity teased dramatically. "That's so rude."

"Quackity, shut up!" You laughed but grabbed a pen and ripped off the cap, hesitating before copying their doodle smiley face in your own sloppy script, along with a small message, hello there.

New ink appeared almost immediately, sending butterflies to your stomach. "Okay, I'm gonna go," you decided after reading their greeting. "You understand."

"No, I don't!" Quackity joked. "We're your friends! They're a stranger!"

"You'll understand one day when you get to talk to your freaking SOULMATE."

"Wait, magma blocks!" George reminded and you quickly told him where they were in your base. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Bye, sorry for leaving."

"It's all good, go get that dick or get that pussy or whatever," Quackity joked.

"QUACKITY!"

He laughed loudly in response and George joined him.

"Bye, guys. Bye, chat!" You disconnected soon after and ripped off your headphones as you grabbed the pen and sat on your bed.

You found the hi :) they had last written and wrote underneath it sloppily, I'm y/n, what's your name?

do you mind if i hold off on telling you that? i'd rather get to know you first :)

of course! sorry I'm very excited!

it's okay! they wrote back quickly. i'm just kinda shy :P

well you sound really sweet, you wrote on the outside of your forearm.

hehe thanks

pronoun checkk? i'm she/her

they/them, you wrote before adding, this is so cool, I can't believe we already have the connection, my parents didn't get connected until their 30s

i know!! she wrote underneath. i didn't expect to get a soulmate for another few years at least!

i've always been so confused about when your soul connects with someone else?

there are two parts, a) you have to have similar interests and b) you have to be two relationships away from each other. so you know someone who knows someone who knows me

and you and I have similar interests

im bad at explaining :/

so one of us finally made the connection by making a new friend i guess? or getting a new hobby?

You found her message about not explaining well and wrote a small reassuring note next to it, you explained perfectly, before writing your new message under the most recent.

i haven't met anyone recently, have you?

You waited for a response and smiled when you saw the word leg written next to your last sentence. You glanced at your legs to see her response above your knee. You guys were definitely running out of space quickly.

I've met a few people... if it's who i think it is, do you happen to like... minecraft?

oh gosh yes?? who do you know??

I’ve always wanted to ask someone this

y/n, are you friends with georgenotfound?

YES?

NO WAY. I WAS HALF JOKING

WAIT REALLY YOU'RE FRIENDS WITH HIM TOO?

I met Sap recently so since he's friends with him and you're friends with him, that’s why we got connected!!!

You laughed as you looked down at your arms and legs, which were getting crowded with pen scribbles. You and your soulmate had only talked for about ten minutes and were already a mess. Maybe you two should have planned out the space better.

wait... do you know who bugsy is?

YES! I love her so much, I haven't met her yet but I want to so bad

Your soulmate hadn't responded so you kept writing.

I keep trying to get people to introduce me but none of my friends have met her yet

Y/n... you just did

what

nice to meet you, y/n, im bugsy :)

I'M SO EMBARASSED NOW OH GOSH

don't be!!! I've seen a few streams with you in them and you sound so sweet

do you wanna talk on discord or something? I'm running out of space

You wrote your Discord number next to her last message and ran back to your computer, waiting for her friend request. What are the odds that your soulmate would happen to be the streamer you adored from day one? You needed to find out how to keep your cool so you didn't scare her away.

You let out a small scream as an incoming call came from her. "Oh no," you said to yourself before breathing deeply and hitting accept.

"Hi, Y/n!" she chirped happily and you swore you almost evaporated.

"H-hey," you stammered out, slapping your forehead after. "Sorry, I just... I've been dreaming about having a soulmate for so long, and now that it's you I just..."

"I'm nervous too," she admitted. "Your voice is so cute."

"Holy shit," you muttered and she giggled in response. You played with your hands in your lap and noticed ink spreading across the back of your right hand. She was drawing little hearts all over it, making your own heart beat faster. "It's been twenty minutes and I'm pretty sure you're already going to kill me."

#bugsygames x reader #bugsygames #bugsy supremacy #ash's mushroom field #bugsy

[slythraco]

Hi could you please do a Julian Albert x reader smut (if you do that) where he proposes to the reader and they end the night by making love? Or if you don’t do smut but it’s basically the same thing except they end the night by spending time with Team Flash? Thank you so much!

Author’s note: I’m so happy to receive my first request for Julian ! I’m too in love with this guy 😅 I just had a hard time writing the smutty part ‘cause it’s my first time writing one so don’t mind it if it’s bad I’m sorry !

Warnings: You might die of cuteness, ❗️smut ❗️, +18, swearing

Words count: 3,6K

Disclaimer: I excuse myself if there are some mistakes, English is not my mother tongue...don’t hesitate to point it out to me so i can improve ! :) (Also I was really lazy to re-read what I wrote 😂 it’s 3AM I want to go to sleep !)

Masterlist

————-

You look at you wrist to see the time on your watch, a happy sigh comes out of your mouth when you see the clock pointing 7PM. You were finally done with your work !

You quickly pick your stuff up, ready to go catch your lovely boyfriend in his office, you wave at your co-workers before heading out to the hallway that separate your office to Julian’s. Your surprised when you enter end realise that nobody is here, suspicious, Julian is always the last one to quit. You normally always have to wait an extra hour at his office before returning home together.

Barry wasn’t there too, but that is not surprising, he’s the first one to quit anyway.

You look around you to see if his stuff were still there, but no sign of Julian’s presence until your eyes catch a little note glued to his computer screen, you pick it up to read what it says. “I finished work early, I thought we could take advantage of this rare opportunity ! Meet me at OUR place !” You smiled a little, it all makes sense, you bit your lips, thinking about ‘your’ place.

Your place was a little hidden spot in Central City, this is where you kissed for the first time, it was so magical.

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

Julian and you have been seeing each other for a while now. You weren’t together yet but there was no doubts you’ll end up together at some point, the flash team couldn’t stop teasing you two about it.

And tonight after a wild evening catching some metas with the team, Julian asked you out on a surprise date under the sharped eyes of your friends. “Oooooh ! This is getting serious here !” Barry teased to annoy his co-worker. “Shut it Allen !” Julian quickly respond his is British accent that couldn’t make you shiver in a matter of seconds.

You sneer at their bickering. “With pleasure Julian !” This time it was the whole crew who started teasing you two. “Oh come on !” You rolled your eyes as you get up. You grab Julian's hand and pull him towards the exit of the lab. “Come Julian, I can’t stand them anymore !”

“So do I !” He said, following you, leaving a Cisco shocked by your words before you disappear in Central City with Julian.

“Soooo...where are you taking me ?” You asked curiously as you gently squeeze his hand into yours. “To a place I discovered not long ago.” It directly piques your curiosity, you wanted to know more. “Oh ! Where is it ?”

“You’ll see.” He said with a teasing voice as he walks a little bit faster, impatient to show you this place.

After a little more then 10 minutes of walking and talking about everything and anything, you both finally arrived in a park, you’ve never been there before so you’re quite excited. “Come here.” Julian said in a whisper, pulling you with him trough a small path obstructed by a few branches and a small bushes. The leaves tickling your exposed skin under your skirt.

When you finally come out of the small path, your breath is taken away by the view, you could see all central city, in the night, the lights were making the city look like the stars in the sky. “Wow...” You whisper. Julian standing right beside you, smiles at your reaction. “I know right ?” He said, not looking at the view but looking right at you. You were far more interesting then the city at his eyes.

“It’s so beautiful !” You cheer, your eyes finally turning to Julian who was already staring at you which made your cheek glow red immediately. “It is...but it’s not as beautiful as you.” He tried to say the second part of his phrase lower for you to not hear it but it didn’t work. You instantly start blushing at this compliment. “Well...thank you for the compliment Julian !” You tease him, Julian suddenly blushes before looking at the floor, covered in shame. “I-...” he mumbled as you chuckle. You bit your lip, looking at him all shy now.

You decided to make the first move for once, so you turn towards him and walk until there’s only a few centimetres between the both of you. You carefully slide a hand on his cheek, making him look right into your eyes. “I return the compliment Julian” You simply said, that was enough for Julian to smile like a child as he takes all he courage to put his hands on your hips, drawing you against him to make this unbearable space between your two bodies disappear.

“Y/N...” He whispered as his eyes flicker between yours and your delicious looking lips. You didn’t need him to speak to understand was he was about to ask. “Do it...” You bit your lower lip again, it made him lose it, he couldn’t wait anymore. So he quickly took your head between his large hands and kissed with all the passion and love he had for you since your first met. You obviously responded to this kiss that you were waiting for so long.

This moment feels like ages, not that you mind it but you needed to breath so you pull away but keep the proximity by putting your forehead against his. “We'll hear about it tomorrow !” Julian said making you giggle as you passe your arms around his head. He was right, the next morning the flash team would have been pulling at you until you confessed to have kissed each other. It was the beginning of a rain of teasing until you and Julian ended up together.

˚ ༘✶ ⋆｡˚ ⁀➷

You stopped your car right in front of the park, you lower your sun visor to verify your face before getting out of the vehicle. You make your way in the park, walking towards the little hidden path but as soon as you arrive in front of it, you realise there’s little candles illuminating it. Your frown a bit, what did Julian prepared ? You ask yourself before crossing the path furrowed by candles. Once you get out of the bushes, you gaze catch directly your love’s one. You look at him head to toes, he was wear one of your favourite suit, standing there, in front of the magical looking city behind him, you already wanted to cry.

“What is this Julian ?” You asked curiously as you walk slowly towards him. “My darling...you’ve been by my side for more than two years now. Two years of putting up with me every day despite my almost constant bad mood.” He chuckles as he takes one step towards you. “In two years you learned me to much things, you push me to be a better person, you learned me how to be nice, to be nice, to be patient. You...you taught me how to love, you made me understand what love truly is. You know things about me that not even my own family knows, you saw at my best and at my worst but you never stopped loving me. And neither did I ever stopped loving you to, and I’m sure I will never be able to love someone else other then you. That why...”

He delicately takes your hand and turn it to have you palm facing the sky before searching something in the pocket of his suit. He finally put the little object in your hand, your free hand land immediately on your mouth as you start crying, realising what’s going on when you see the little engagement ring in your palm. Julian take your chin in between his fingers to plant his mesmerising blue gaze into yours. “Y/N...will you marry me ?” His voice crack a little, he couldn’t keep tears from railing on his cheeks either. “Yes !” You screamed. “Of course I want to marry you Julian !”

At the second he hears your response he quickly pull you into his arms and holds you tightly against his chest. “I love you so much” He whispers softly in your ear. Your arms slide around his neck, as your hand holds the ring tightly. “I love you too Julian, more than anything !” He pulls away just enough to catch your hand and pass the ring you were holding trough your finger.

You watch him closely while he was doing it, you were certainly the most happy person in the world right now, so was your now fiancé who quickly leaned to softly kiss your lips with all his love.

••• [+18] •••

“I want Caitlin and Iris as my bridesmaids !” You cheers, still holding Julian’s hand as you two reach the door of your appartement. “Don’t worry love, we have all our time to think about it.” He leaves your hand to put his on each of your cheeks before crashing his lips against yours once again, you couldn’t stop kissing each other since he proposed. It was like, you both couldn’t handle too much space between you, you had to be always in each other’s arms.

You slide your arms around his bust to hold him closer to you, you start to lose your mind when he quits your lips to kiss your jaw, until reaching your neck. Your breathing start to quicken as soon as he reach your weak spot. “Julian...we’re in the hallway.” You giggle when he pulls away from you, sighing. “Don’t you want to let all the neighbours know that you’re mine forever by making love to you right in here ?” He tease, looking directly in your house. Your widen as you listen to him, that’s one of the sound you were the only one to see. The shy, reserved Julian disappear to change into a teasing and devilish men. You didn’t liked it no...you loved it. It turns you on every fucking time.

“Yes, but I can do it form our room, don’t worry !” You wink at him, your eyes showed how hungry you were for him. You thought of you screaming his name loud enough for the neighbours to hear was the point of no return for Julian. He quickly get the keys out of his pocket and don’t waist any seconds to open the door fast. He then push the door, to let you enter first. “After you...” He said in a lower tin voice, remembering what he prepared for you.

You nod and enter your appartement but freeze when you see a trail of rose petals on the floor, leading towards your bedroom. ‘He really didn't do things by halves.’ You thought to yourself as you feel two arms running around waist and your back hitting his bust. “I thought we might have to celebrate our first night as a engaged couple, don’t you agree ?” Julian said in a whisper right behind your ear, you turn to face him, passing your arms around his neck. “I think it’s a great idea !” You whispered before leaning to his neck to put some heated kiss in the crook of it. You can feel Julian hands pressing your skin between his fingers underneath your kisses, making it hard to breath for him. “Y/N...” he whispers, trying to control himself to not take you right here, on the floor or against the wall right beside him and you.

You pull yourself away just enough to look in his blue eyes. “I want you Julian...right now.” You smile, knowing well what effect you have on him. Julian sigh before pushing the door behind him to shut it abruptly. You jump as you hear the loud of the door, and before you have the time to say anything, Julian was already attacking your shirt, unbuttoning it to reveal your beautiful bra, he smiles at the sight you offer him once he takes it away from you.

He bends down to kiss your chest, covering it with wet and hungry kisses. Your hand make her way to his sandy blond hair, holding them between your fingers. Julian groans at your gestures as his hand slide on your ass, massaging them before grabbing your thighs. “Jump.” He order and you obey him by jumping to help him raising you in the air. Your eyes meet and you both smile to each other before crushing your lips together into an hungry kiss while he leads you to your dorm.

He then delicately on the bed before getting up and family remove his vest. He goes to take off his tie but you interrupt him by quickly straightening up on the bed. “Hey ! What are you doing ?” You asked, Julian frowns for a second as you cross the bed, you sat right in front of him, at the end of the bed. You then grab his it and pull him close to you. “It’s my job !” You giggle teasingly as you slowly remove his tie, making him impatient. You then attack the button of his shirt, slowly revealing his warm skin. You put some kisses on his torso as you grab his belt, but he quickly catch your wrist to stop you. Your eyes meet his and his other veiny hand grabs suddenly you throat before he pushes you to lay you down the bed again. He then places himself above you, smiling because you were at his mercy.

He leaves your throat to places kisses on it, slowly but surely he started trailing down on your chest, then on your stomach as you move slightly because of the little tickle that it gave you. On his way, Julian unleash your bra, releasing your boobs in front of his eyes. As he throws your piece of lingerie somewhere in the room, his lips meets your right nipple causing you to moan instantly. He smirks when he hears you, crazy about the way he makes you feel. He takes your tit in his hand, rolling his tongue on his extremity.

He starts by delicately crashing little kisses on your womanhood, making you even more needy. He smiles, definitely knowing how to drive you crazy. “Julian...” you begged. He absolutely loved that, you begging him to give you what you want. He wanted to hear more, but he was way to caring of your satisfaction so he finally gives you what you want by running is tongue above you clit. You couldn’t retain loud groans to come out of your mouth, your hand grabs the sheets covering your bed.

Julian kept licking your sensitive spot as his hands find his pants, he quickly unbuckle his belt and push his pants to remove it and be ready for what will comes next. While Julian gently sucks your clit between his lips, he grabs your hand only to intertwine your fingers together and be able to feel the pressure your were previously putting on the sheets but on his hand now. “Julian I-I gonna...” you mumbled, out of breath because of the pleasure he was giving you.

Hearing you, Julian didn’t stop at all, on the contrary, he quicken his tongue movement before slipping a fingers into you, slowly going in and out of you. You other hand slide into his hair, you push slightly his head deeper in your intimacy. “Oh my god ! Don’t stop Ju...” You didn’t have the time to finish to pronounce his name that you came right in his mouth. He gently smile against your folds. He slowly raise his head to look at you as you try to catch your breath.

He slowly but surely rise above you, allowing you to calm down a bit after what just happened. Without leaving your hand he was still holding since he took it, he sticks his forehead against yours. You then deeply looked a each other eyes, your two bodies against each other’s. You could feel his erection through his boxer brushing against your area, you gently smile as your move your hips slightly o rubs your intimacy against his cock.

Julian sigh at your movements. “You want it huh ?” He asked hungrily. “So bad.” You whispered without stopping you hips. With that, Julian quickly pull on his boxer. Letting his length falling on your stomach hard as a rock. You start staring at it, which turns your fiancé even more. He tease you a little bit by gently rubbing it between your folds, smirking when he sees your impatient glaze. “I never thought you could be more impatient than me !” He chuckles with you as he puts your intertwined hands above your head before putting his lips on yours. At the same time he slowly finally lets himself entering you, making you moan against his delicious lips. He stay still for a few seconds for you tu adjust to his size when he’s fully into you.

Then he start to pump you slowly as he leaves your lips to kiss your neck instead. He bites your skin as he already speed up the pace. Your hand Lingers on his nape of the neck, at the birth of his birth on you pull slightly while moaning close to his ear. Driving him crazy. “Fuck...” he groan on your skin before pulling away to see your beautiful face under the pleasure you were receiving. You both look hungrily into each other eyes as your nails drove into the skin of his neck.

Feeling it make him pumped even harder into you, you were almost screaming his name but you tried to restrain yourself. Julian saw it, because he knows you more than you know yourself. “Don’t stop you from screaming Y/N...I thought you wanted the neighbours to hear you.” I tease you with a devilish smile on his face, to drive you even more crazy. His free hand slide on your body before hitting your heat, he then start rubbing your clit while pumping even harder in your folds. You back arc at the amount of pleasure this man was giving you, you wouldn’t last longer at this pace. Neither would Julian.

“Jul...Julian...stop i’m gonna...” Of course he won’t stop, it’s the last thing he wanted. “Me too Darling.” He whisper in your ear. Your were holding his hand so strongly, you thought you would break one of his bone as you felt your climax coming trough your body. “Oh my...Julian !” You didn’t stop yourself from screaming this time, you’re pretty sure the whole building heard you. You reach the orgasm, again and not long after, Julian fall on your brining body as you feel himself fill you with his boy juice.

You were both out of breath as you smiled looking at him, his head was still in your neck, you could feel his warm breath on your skin, creating goosebumps everywhere on your body. “I love you” He simply said, making you smile while he finally move to lay beside you. You don’t sit to put your head on his sweaty chest and you whispered at your turn. “I love you too Julian Albert.” You turn your head to look at him. He kisses your forehead gently after pushing an hair stems behind your ear. “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you Y/N...” His hand grabs yours that was resting on his chest and inter-wide your fingers together. “Ooooh you don't know what you're getting into !” You said before giggling, he rolls his eyes. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing”

He smiles at you while his free hand draw circle on your shoulders. “Sure you are ! You’re Julian Albert, I’m sure you analyse every possibility before proposing to me !” His guilty face says it all, you couldn’t help but start laughing. “See, that’s why I want to spend the rest of my life with you, you know me better than I know myself !” Your gaze meets his again before you place your lips on his into a chaste kiss. “I hope you didn’t put the possibility of me to say ‘No’ in the equation.” You tilt you head a little.

“I did, I did my calculations and came to the conclusion that there was a 12% chance that you would say no so I took my courage in both hands and proposed to you !” You roll your eyes listening to him. But you couldn’t help but find it sexy when he was talking about his maths “Well, I’m afraid you miscalculated sir.” You lean closer to him, brushing your nose against his. “There was exactly 0% of possibilities of me saying ‘no’ !”

His takes your chin between his fingers, looking at your face for a second, you were too dawn beautiful to his eyes. “That’s the only calculation I’m okay with being wrong.” He whispers before kissing you again, with all his love and passion. While your lips dance together to a soft rhythm, you grabs the blanket and put it over your two bodies.

You then finally pull apart and you rest your head on his chest again. “Good night, love.” He whispers as he put a kiss on your skull. “Good night...my fiancé.” You smile after saying those words, so do Julian, who was the happiest man on heart at this exact moment.

•••

#tom felton #tom felton x reader #julian albert #julian albert imagines #julian albert x reader #the flash

[yuta-nakamots]

santa tell me - l.yy

Pairing - Yangyang x Reader

Genre - Fluff, Angst

Warnings - None

Summary - Growing up, your wishes to Santa were always things like a doll set, a pretty outfit, or a Nintendo gaming system. You didn’t know if he would answer to a wish that was not tangible, like wishing for a person, but it didn’t hurt to try.

Word Count - 4.2k

Taglist - @danishmiilk @dearyongs​

A/N - bolded phrases are song lyrics taken from the songs listed in the prompts. special appearance by @orange-nimon-cross​. 

Written for the Walking In A Winter Wonderland Collab hosted by @suh-insane​ and @neocitybynight​. 

Prompts:

“Come and kiss me baby, we don’t need no mistletoe” - Ariana Grande (Wit it This Christmas)

“Santa tell me if you’re really there. Don’t make me fall in love again if he won’t be here next year.” - Ariana Grande (Santa Tell Me)

When you had first started off in university, one of your biggest worries was not being able to make new friends and fit in with them. Granted, you chose to stay home and go to one of your local schools meaning that some of your high school friends would still be with you but you also wanted to meet new people so you’re not stuck with the same idiots for the rest of your life.

Such idiots being Na Jaemin and Lee Jeno who had stuck with you all through high school. Both of them had told you that they too would be staying at home and would be going to school with you, which you were secretly extremely thankful for, though you knew they too were probably itching to make new friends.

Luckily, you three were all majoring in the STEM field so many of your classes coincided with each other. You stuck with Jaemin as biology majors on the pre-med track while Jeno majored in engineering. Somehow, Jeno, one of the most quiet and intimidating people at first glance, had managed to connect with the other freshmen, introducing you to Yangyang and Renjun, both of whom he met in his calculus class.

Yangyang was majoring in bioengineering, a quite daunting major to say the least, while Renjun was going into computer science. Much to your surprise, Yangyang was actually local. It's just that he had gone to one of your rival high schools which was why you hadn’t yet met him unlike Renjun who actually flew in from a different city.

Like this, your little friend group was complete for your first year of college. With all of you being in the STEM fields, group study sessions were a must, especially for Renjun who felt the need to be over prepared for every quiz or exam though he claimed that the rest of you were just ‘underprepared’.

“So who can tell me what the values of N(0) and N(9) are?” Renjun asked, standing in front of the whiteboard in the study room you all booked to prepare for your calculus exam the next day.

Everyone was silent as they analyzed the problem. “Oh, N(0) is 41 and N(9) is 325, right?” Yangyang answered.

“Correct, they’re simply the values given to us in the problem,” Renjun explained as he wrote the numbers on the board, “and so from here, what do we do if we want to find the unknown relative growth rate?”

“Is that the equation with all the letters and stuff?” Jaemin chimed in. “You know, the one with all the P and the t and the-”

“The exponential growth equation.” Jeno interrupted, playfully rolling his eyes at Jaemin who proceeded to throw his eraser at the former.

“Hey, we’re here to study, not for us to babysit you two,” Renjun scolded, “anyway, which values will we be plugging in?”

“9 for the t, 325 for the P(9), and 41 for P(0),” you stated, pretty much unphased by the antics of your friends, “then you divide the 325 by 41 and multiply both sides by the natural log to get rid of the e.”

“Very good-”

“Wait slow down-”

“I don’t get it-”

Renjun, Jeno, and Jaemin all spoke at the same time, shooting each other looks as they fought to decide who should speak though Yangyang beat them all to it. “We’re trying to find the growth rate which is why we divide the final value by the starting value, it’s like finding the rate of change, you know?”

“God, at least I know three of us won’t fail the test,” Renjun muttered.

“Hey,” Jeno complained, “I understand it, I just need more time to write it all down, don’t be so mean.”

“Yeah okay, whatever, let’s just finish up this problem already because I’m hungry and I swear, if we don’t end before the cafeteria closes-”

“Multiply both sides by 1 over 9 to isolate the k constant and from there plug it into a calculator and solve to get the unknown relative growth rate,” you commented, your own stomach growling the tiniest bit at the mention of food.

“Oh my baby is so smart! I’m so proud of you,” Jaemin exclaimed as he reached over to try to squish your cheeks though you were quickly pulled out of his reach as someone moved your chair, “hey! Don’t take my baby away from me.”

“She’s not a baby, she’s already 18,” Yangyang reasoned.

A loud sigh came from the front of the room, effectively interrupting all conversation. “Jaemin, can you at least try to put in some effort?” Renjun whined.

“I did! Look, the k constant is equal to 0.23003 and I have everything written down here,” Jaemin defended, sliding his paper closer to Renjun who was struggling to see it from a distance.

Renjun made a noise of both content and confusion, “then why did you say that you didn’t get it?”

Jaemin shook his head, “oh no no no, I didn’t say that I didn’t get it, I was going to say that I don’t get how our y/n is so smart already. She’s going to be such a good doctor!”

“That’s your goal bro, not her’s.” Yangyang interjected.

There was a loud sound of a book shutting and everyone looked over at Jeno who was packing up his stuff. “What?” He questioned, when he noticed everyone's eyes on him. “Aren’t we going to get dinner?”

The rest of you started following suit after doing one last check that everyone was good on all of the material for the test tomorrow. “What score do you think you’ll get on the exam?” Yangyang asked as the group of you headed over to the cafeteria.

You let out a hum as you thought to yourself. “Maybe like an 85 or something around there.”

“Nah, I’m pretty sure you’ll hit at least a 90, or even a 90 exactly,” he responded with a cheeky giggle.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Because I’m the 10 that you need.”

Sure enough, you scored 90 points on the exam, prompting Yangyang to excitedly treat you for lunch that following weekend. One small date became two and eventually three which was when he asked you to be his girlfriend.

When you told the rest of the guys that the two of you were together, Jaemin let out a whoop before turning to the others, “you both owe me twenty.”

You raised an eyebrow at them, asking for an explanation. “We made a bet on when Yangyang would finally get the guts to ask you out. Turns out it was a lot faster than we thought,” Renjun explained dryly as he opened his wallet to hand Jaemin the bill.

The rest of your first year in college went by in the blink of an eye jumping from spending Christmas with Yangyang, Jeno, and Jaemin, to submitting your registrations for the next school year, then to finals to wrap up the term.

If there was one thing about freshman year that you’d keep dear to your heart, it would be the little Christmas party the four of you had at Jeno’s house. You had each brought a gift as each other’s Secret Santa, yours was a cute pair of pink socks with strawberries on them for Jaemin who you knew hated strawberries though he’d wear them anyways because they’re from you.

Supporting your predictions, Jaemin changed his socks right then and there with a smile on his face because “they’re so cute, just like my baby” causing your boyfriend, who was in fact your Secret Santa, to jokingly make a gagging sound at Jaemin’s affection towards you.

The gift Yangyang gave you was a thin bracelet with a single little sheep charm dangling off of it. “In Korean, yang means sheep so I thought it would be cute to give you something that could be a reminder of me when I’m not with you.” Now it was Jaemin and Jeno’s turns to make the sounds of disgust as you kissed Yangyang’s cheek to thank him.

So I think you should give your love to me. Baby, let me know

Sophomore year was when things started to change starting with Yangyang leaving to continue his studies in China where he was accepted into one of his dream universities. He had told you about his plans beforehand and you celebrated every milestone with him like when he first submitted his application, when he got his acceptance letter, and then a scholarship. Here you were finally, sending your boyfriend off at the airport before the beginning of fall semester.

“I love you so much, stay safe and don’t get sick,” you told him as you held him in a tight hug, not wanting to say goodbye just yet.

Yangyang laughed as he felt you trying to nuzzle into his chest. “I’ll be back sooner than you know it. Just four months and I’ll be back for the holidays.”

Even as your tears began to fall, you still smiled, not wanting his last moments with you to be sad ones. “Promise?”

“I promise.” He locked pinkies with you, sealing the deal.

It was difficult to be in a long distance relationship, especially when it seems like the time zones are working against you. When you’re awake and going about your day, Yangyang is winding down and finishing up his work, about the head to sleep. There was never a good time for you to call each other, especially as the semester progressed and your workloads only increased.

“I really miss you, you know. I miss getting to hold you in my arms and mess up your hair only to have you hit me all the time.” You paused the voice recording he had sent you a few days ago, wanting so badly for time to go by faster and for Yangyang to return home sooner.

You sent him a voice recording back. “I passed that test I was talking about last week! I didn’t really do too well but it’s okay because apparently Jeno and Jaemin didn’t do all that great either. I miss having you here to help me study and tell me that I’m doing well. How did your ochem lab go? I’m sure you aced it.”

Sending each other voice recordings was the next best thing after calling because you could still hear each other’s voice while also still doing it at a time that was comfortable for you. It was like texting but with your voice instead of typing out words. Though sometimes it left you anxious because it wasn’t like a call where the other person is responding in real time. Yangyang would often leave you on read and would take a few days to respond so you inadvertently began doing the same thing.

It wasn’t until one weekend when both of you had free time that Yangyang finally snapped during a call. “It’s like you don’t want me anymore.”

“What? No, what do you mean?” You questioned.

“You don’t respond all the time and it’s like I’m not a top priority anymore,” he rambled.

“To be fair,” you began, “you don’t respond to me all the time either-”

“Yeah because I’m busy.” Yangyang interrupted.

You let out a sigh. “I’m busy too. We’re both college students majoring in some of the hardest fields, we know how hard we have to work for our education.”

“I know but like, you can still text me back. You don’t have to send voice recordings so often if you’re really that busy-”

“No, don’t make it sound like I’m exaggerating how busy I am. You are a top priority, but you’re not my number one and that should be common sense.” You tell him, feeling your own temper starting to go.

You could practically see Yangyang rolling his eyes at you. “I’m not trying to downplay your work at all. I’m just saying that it’s not that hard to put effort into our relationship.”

“Then how about you give me something to go off of first instead of making me change for you. You barely respond to me either so I can say just the same thing for you,” you argued.

“Look, I think we need some time away from each other to clear our heads and figure this out when we aren’t being weighed down by all our other problems,” he reasoned.

You let out a laugh. “You say that as if we haven’t already been separated from each other for two months already but okay.”

“Goodnight, y/n.” You heard the line go dead. He didn’t even end with an ‘I love you’ or anything like that though you chose not to think too hard about it because he was probably just as tense as you.

When Yangyang came home in December it felt like everything was right once again. He got to be reunited with the original group along with meeting the two newest additions, Haechan and Shotaro who were both business majors and were roped in by Jeno who had a shared class with both of them.  

Yangyang had gotten you a second charm, the number 10 to go on the bracelet he had bought you the year before which you still wore almost constantly. “Ten because I’m the ten you need, remember?” You nodded as you smiled up at him, glad to finally have him back in your arms.

He had to go back to school sooner than the rest of you so your time with him was short-lived and things went back to the way they used to be, except even more distant this time around. Normally Yangyang would be sure to call you back if he ever missed a call from you, but he didn’t. He’d go days without responding to you, opening your messages but never sending anything back.

But it’s hard to tell if this is just a fling or if it’s true love that he thinks of

That semester, the two of you decided to break things off after yet another fight in hopes to preserve the friendship that you had before things got any worse. It was like a breath of fresh air for a moment, getting to finally focus your energy on your work and not worry about having to respond to messages from a boyfriend who didn’t really seem like one. Only when you slowed down did things really start to hit you.

When Yangyang came back during summer, your group was torn on how to handle the situation, wanting to hang out with both of you but not wanting to make things uncomfortable knowing how rocky things were between the two of you. You ended up pulling yourself back and encouraging them to go out with Yangyang since they could see you during the school year whereas he was in a different country and it only seemed fair.

That was really the last you saw or heard of him as you chose to bury yourself in work for the next year, not wanting to let yourself fall behind in school because of your emotions. It was, by far, one of your most productive years. Not only did you take some of your grad school tests and applied for many scholarships, you also earned yourself a spot on the Dean’s list and took part in a notable marine biology study done on the effects of pollution on the local animals.

Between balancing all of your current works and goals along with things to prepare you for your potential future careers, the mere existence of Liu Yangyang slipped your mind for just that short time. It was only a year later, during the summer before your senior year, did you hear from Jaemin that Yangyang was planning to come back.

“Yeah he was asking Jeno what we’re planning on doing for housing next year and if he could join us.” Jaemin informed you as the two of you were running an experiment and working on tracking the carbon output of the little plants in front of you.

“So what did you say to him?” You asked as you placed the oxygen gauge inside the chamber of the first plant.

Jaemin paused to see if the gauge was sending data to the computer. “I told him that the six of us were looking into getting one of the campus apartments in the fall so we might not be able to accommodate him.”

“Wait, six? Aren’t there five of us?” You started listing the names of your friends in your head.

“Haechan is going off-campus and Jeno’s girlfriend is joining us,” Jaemin corrects, “so next semester it’s us, Jeno and Yunha, Renjun, and Shotaro. Six. We probably won’t have space for him unless someone backs out.” You stared at the rising and falling of the line on the computer graph, not really sure if you were happy or sad at this. “Would you have liked it if he were to join us?” He questioned after seeing your silence.

“I don’t know, it’s not that I’m ‘uncomfortable’ around him…” your voice trailed off as the computer finished collecting data and indicated for you to reset and move on to the next plant, “it’s just that we didn’t really have a clean end to our relationship, if you know what I mean.”

Jaemin nodded in understanding as you moved the gauge to the second plant. “Would you like to get back together with him if given the opportunity?”

“Well, yeah but not if we’re both as busy as we are right now.” You explained, looking over at the screen to see if the oxygen was tracking.

“Try inserting it a little further,” Jaemin instructed when you both saw that the line was running a bit low, “but anyway, you guys are both going into the medical field, there’s no escaping being busy.”

“Yeah that’s exactly wh-”

“No, listen. What I’m saying is that you don’t have to both see each other all the time. Think about it. There’s tons of people out there who don’t even understand their partner’s job but they still make it work-” He rambled

“And who’s to say you can group me in with a majority?” You interject.

Jaemin looks away from the screen to roll his eyes at you. “That’s not the point. I’m just saying that maybe you should think about giving him another chance whether he lives with us or not.”

“I mean, I’ll think about it. That doesn’t mean I will.” You decide, wanting to get back to the experiment.

Santa tell me if you’re really there. Don’t make me fall in love again if he won’t be here next year

Truthfully, you hadn’t really gotten over Yangyang, you had merely forgotten about him for a while with all the stuff you were doing, which was what you had planned to do. A part of you wanted to see if things could still work out again but the other part of you didn’t want to put yourself in that same situation again, especially now that both you and him would probably be even more busy than before.

You didn’t know if he’d be coming back for good or if he’d be leaving again to go somewhere else and you didn’t want to take the chance of falling for him only to lose him shortly after. Thankfully the other guys didn’t ask too much about it seeing as how the housing situation was already settled.

It was just your luck and misfortune that you went in to work on a research assignment on the day you did. As you walked down the hallways of the lab building, you heard that one familiar voice ringing throughout the halls from an open door. You paused in your tracks, diverting from your course through the building to see if your suspicions were true as you peeked into one of the labs.

As you looked in, you saw his back towards you while he talked animatedly with one of your colleagues about how different it was to go to a university in China. You quickly ducked away when your colleague waved in your direction, not wanting to be seen by Yangyang.

“Who was that?” He asked, his voice getting fainter as you sped away from the room. You heard your name mentioned followed by an “oh” but that was about it as you got into the elevator to head to the archives.

And I’m trying to play it cool but it’s hard to focus when I see him walking around the room

Senior year progressed just like any other year, though you were glad that you got to live with your closest friends and at least see them for meals when you were all too busy to actually hang out. If anything, it was just the slightest bit more calm since there was no longer stress about passing general classes now that you were in more specialized biology courses that were actually enjoyable.

The annual Christmas party came up much faster than you expected but now that the six of you shared an apartment, it was only that much more convenient and because it would be your last year all together, Jaemin insisted that it be an actual get-together for your friends.

He invited Haechan and some of the guys he was now living with, though they were all older too. Renjun brought over some of the other computer science grad students that he had gotten close to recently, similar to Jeno in the engineering field.

As more people showed up and you worked on keeping all of your guests entertained, you hadn’t managed to keep track of everyone who set foot into the door, trusting Renjun to not let anyone in who had no business with you guys. It wasn’t until dinner started that you saw a face you hadn’t seen in a while.

“Hey,” Yangyang began as he almost ran into you exiting the kitchen with a plate full of food in his hands.

“Hey,” you said back, startled and unsure of how to actually react.

After you had gotten your food and returned to the living room, you say that he had taken up a seat next to Jeno and Jaemin as some Christmas movie started playing and you opted to sit on the sofa next to Jeno’s girlfriend Yunha, who gladly scooted over to make room for you. “Who’s that?” She asked, nodding over to where her boyfriend was.

“That’s, uh, Yangyang. He was one of our close friends during our freshmen year but he left to study at a school in China,” you inform her, glad that she accepted the simple explanation.

You successfully avoided him for almost the rest of the night, not because you didn’t like him but because you were scared of talking to him after so long. It was nearing the end of the night when Renjun had yelled for everyone to “sit your asses down in a circle” with the present they brought for the white elephant game gift exchange game.

The apartment was filled with laughter and cheers as the game progressed and people opened the gifts they chose, finding things outrageous as a whisk or backscratcher or even a bag of clothespins. The best one was the gift Jeno, a cat lover opened, pulling out a box of dog treats.

“Aw, our big samoyed!” Jaemin cooed. “Do some tricks for us!” Jeno shot him a glare before allowing the game to continue on.

The gift you decided on keeping was a small red envelope sealed with a shiny golden sticker. When you opened it, you pulled out a postcard from Shanghai and you felt a wave of emotion hit you. You held it up to show the people around you what it was before quickly slipping it back into the envelope and placing it on the ground beneath your crossed legs.

Once everyone had opened their gifts and a few people were starting to leave, you decided to get a head start on cleaning up in the kitchen as your roommates bid everyone farewell and wished them a safe drive home.

“I think it’s kind of funny how you got my gift,” a voice said from behind as you transferred the leftover dumplings from the plate they were on into a tupperware container.

You shrugged your shoulders. “The minimum price requirement was $5 and I’m sure you couldn’t have spent more than $2 on that.”

“The envelope and the sticker made up for the other $3,” he stated, his playful attitude ever so present, “so how have you been lately?”

“Pretty good, I guess. Got accepted into grad school, finishing up my remaining courses, just normal college stuff, how about you?” You finally make eye contact with him as you have to nudge him out of the way for you to open the refrigerator. He looks nearly exactly the same as when he first left but somehow more handsome and less boyish.

“Oh, I’ve been doing just about the same I could say. I decided to stay home for this school year, though I suppose you already knew that seeing as how you were spying on me at the beginning of the semester.” He shot you a wink as you returned back to the counter to start working on another dish.

You let out a gasp, “I was not spying on you.”

“Then why did you just peek into the lab and leave before I got to see you?” He inquired.

“Because I had other things to do,” you respond quickly.

“Well what if I told you that I actually wanted to see you and was disappointed that you ran away?” He took a step closer to you.

You secured the lid on a container of fried rice. “Then I guess you’re not the only one.”

“Hm, so you really did miss me then,” Yangyang chuckles.

“Will the two of you stop talking and just kiss already?” Jaemin shouts from the hallway.

Yangyang lets out a laugh. “You heard the guy. Come here.”

You gave in to your heart as you closed the refrigerator again, turning to face him and taking only two steps until you were in his arms once again as his lips met yours.

Come and kiss me baby, we don’t need no mistletoe

#NCT-WRITERS #neowritingsnet #cznnet #unfortunatus: purgatorio #kwritersworldnet #nct #NCT 2020 #wayv #yangyang #NCT imagines #NCT scenarios #NCT fanfic #NCT fluff #NCT angst #WayV imagines #WayV scenarios #WayV fanfic #WayV fluff #WayV angst #liu yangyang #NCT yangyang #WayV yangyang #Yangyang imagines #Yangyang scenarios #Yangyang fanfic #Yangyang fluff #Yangyang angst #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic

[mattiemoose]

I haven't written anything in a long ass time so this won't be super! I also wrote this hella quick on my phone ahh

Warning: angst! Deltarune chapter 2 spoilers!

--

Ya know, Ever since those other lighteners came and froze everything it's been...really...quiet.

They sealed the fountain, the once green streaked sky had faded into an endless over head abyss, a night with no moon, no stars and no light pollution from the once very bright, once very alive world.

It was like someone took a computer, unplugged it and then proceeded to toss it out into below freezing tempts outside.

Statues made from once full of life darkeners that bustled about trying to live their lives that were given to them only to be left as stone in the streets, their expression of panic and dread forced you to look away with guilt as if you had something to do with this mess then there were the folk frozen in ice from a ruthless storm that suddenly washed over them dead or forever locked away with eyes that saw nothing through foggy glassy tombs. Shivering you hurried down to the mansion a pillow and blanket in your arms, bag slung over your shoulder full of code you can eat. Maybe a couple of CD bagels a book or four and whatever else you decided was needed..it wasn't like the world was about to move on without you! So it wasn't like you were really leaving anything behind.

Each step you took echoed out through the silence hoping deep down that city life would resume and swallow the pitiful noises only you now made. Clearing your throat you began to move faster towards and into the mansion, past each door and trap the queen once had placed until you reached the fountain, cringing at the sight of several darkeners desperately trying to rip the sealed fountain open! To save who was left after the storm...to save themselves.

Tearing your eyes away you faced the reason why you came down here, Spamton...frozen and large above you, the neon colours of his new body faded under the ice, his pose had him bent down and reaching out trying to stop or grab whoever once stood where you stood now his expression angry, confused maybe even afraid so aware this was it yet tried so...so hard to keep going. You couldn't really see his eyes behind his once bright ass glasses and in all honesty? This tall hunk of metal didn't even look like your former friend. It was...just to fucking tall and lanky and wrong.

"Heya HamSpam, I'm back! what? Still giving me the cold shoulder?" Ha! Yes dark! Super! Dark ice joke's very funny. Oddly you could hear his glitchy little voice mockingly laughing back "[[haa haa hee hee hoo hoo]] " You're hilarious! And oh so very alone.

Slowly you let your eyes drop and casually dragging your feet towards him, reaching up high to touch his out stretched hand before making that usual B-line towards him, throwing the pillow against his massive fucking foot, tossing your bag to the side and laying against him wrapping up in the blankets you had brought to hide you from the chill of the ice, staring up at him his expressions never changing.

"Hey do you remember when we were sitting on the couch and said I had this idea? I thought it was just brilliant at the time but really was really stupid? But instead of actually telling you about it I just leaned over and kissed your head and ya know not explaining this amazing/not really this amazing idea? You froze up, went dead still before your face erupted and got all red? I swear I thought I saw steam leave your ea-" wait..uh "where ever you 'ear from" Ha! Ha.

No response, as always Spamton! Super classy.

"Anyway that idea was, maybe I could take my soul..somehow split it with you! Morph those pieces with your soul and maybe! You could go to my world, leave this fucking place! Ridiculous, right?" Haha yeah! You knew that... Probably why you planted your lips onto his face!

"You know those drawings in your old shop? The ones on your walls..before I took you home? You drew a sun and a cloud" How did he even know? Cyber world doesn't have a sky or if it did! It's gone now. "I thought about it a lot, got excited over this 'idea' ...I just really wanted to show you...I think you would lost your MIND over some weeds and a rock" Your arms suddenly shot up at the thought of him getting excited, hands spread over your head "I can see it now! Spamtom G! Spamton! Shoving grass into his pockets!" Wowie! You cackled at the mere thought of him seeing the great our doors! The..the uh!? Lighteners home! However that excitement quickly died down "I really wanted to show you my favourite places"

Oh

You're rambling! You always did when you came to visit Spamton, lay in the same spot..babble about something you might of said before or something never brought up. Memories! Like when he popped out of his dumpster house scaring the ever loving fuck out of you. How you kind of harassed him..or did he harass you? The two of you talked for hours..you always coming to visit! Until one day you said "let's go home" your friend deserved more then that dump. Sure he didn't really follow...asked a bunch of questions. Why? Who him!? What's the catch!?

The catch being you caught these hands of emotion.

"I never really got to tell you" The sound of your own voice almost startling in the long silence you started. "How I felt but you're dead and I can't be rejected so. Uh here goes!" ......

......

.....

..

"I- listen I!" A thin smile stretched across your lips as the courage to let him know dwindled quickly, whatever confession you had would fall upon deaf ears. You knew he couldn't hear you..knew he wasn't coming back...but you were in a weird and awkward stage of the relationship, like huddling together on the couch, stealing kisses onto his head or cheek so he couldn't ya know..stab you with his nose.

"maybe next time" rolling onto your side and up against his foot, you tucked away from the world with a shudder swallowing back the whimpers trying to escape from your throat. Rough breathing turned into sleepy sad sighs as you calmed down and let sleep take you to dreams filled with 'what ifs'

~~~~

When you awoke you decided that moving the statues looming over the closed fountain were in the way. So one by one you slid them off and to the side leaving only yourself to stand over it, hands balled up into fists at the thought of trying to force this bitch wiiide open. The rational thought to this plan was, if a Lightener closed it "I can open it" getting down on your knees you began to slam your fists hard and heavy down onto the fountain, it shook! It did nothing! But it did shake so maybe...just maybe this can work.

However that single rattle was the first and last time that fountain moved and for hours you spent slamming away until your hands bruised and bled, throbbing against your chest defeated and angry and frustrated! Your eyes darted about trying to find anything that could help but you knew there wasn't anything here and it made your heart sink at the sight of Spamton..staring down at you, judging you and your failed attempts to save anyone...to save him.

Shooting to your feet and spinning towards Spamtom a sickening bubble of anger bubbling in your throat! "If you stayed home we wouldn't be here! You wouldn't be bigger then me! W-w-we would be on the couch! Watching some dumb show! Trying to-t-to! We would! At home! Please! Please come home!" Breaking out into harsh sobs you tried to wipe away the angry hot tears, picking up rouble and chucking it at Spamton knowing damn well even if he stayed put, he'd of just become stone! Only getting you the same lonesome result! Home or not he isn't coming back!

You yelled out! But nobody came.

#reader #xreader #Angst #Spamton #deltarune

[toothpastecanyon]

A Name From the Mailbox, Chapter 2

Dipper finds out the author's name before Not What He Seems. It's not the person he expected.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

The Gravity Falls Public Library. Dipper didn’t find himself going here as often as he’d thought he would. Sure, there were books, but whoever the librarian was they certainly weren’t stacking them in any kind of system; it was impossible to find anything you were looking for besides dusty magazines heaped up on coffee tables.

But for all the library’s shortcomings, it did have one thing the Shack didn’t. It had computers.

“Is that a dial up sound, Dipper?”

He shrugged at his sister. “Maybe? I dunno what that sounds like.” He sat back. “Wish it’d load faster. Ugh, I swear these things are cursed to be slow or something like that.”

“Oooo, curses!”

“Just need to wait for it to load…” Dipper took out a notebook. “If I can’t have the journal, fine. I don’t need that. I don’t need him. I’ll find it out myself.”

“You’re muttering, bro bro.” Mabel poked his face. “So what’re we looking up, anyway? I thought you said all the websites for magic stuff are ‘unnacurate’ and ‘disturbing’.”

“It’s innacurate actually, Mabel.” He pushed her hand away as the computer finally loaded. “And I’m not looking for Gravity Falls stuff. I’m looking for Stan.”

“What’s he doing on the internet? I don’t think he knows what it is.”

Dipper started typing. “No, but maybe we can find out something about him on there.”

“Ooo, like secrets!”

“Yeah, like secrets.” Dipper made a face as he put in ‘Mystery Shack Gravity Falls’ and got a few sites with mixed reviews. “Oh you gotta look at this, Mabel. Someone wrote, ‘A friend recommended I bring my family here. We spent five minutes inside, and in that time the owner charged an exorbitant entrance fee, scared my children with some horrific taxidermied duck-rat thing, and then made up some fake ‘early exit charge’ when we tried to leave! We are pretty sure he picked our pockets too, but the police in this town are useless. I’m out a wallet and a friend.”

Mabel giggled. “I’m pretty sure Stan has no idea about these! Oh, this one’s from when I was boss! Ahem, ‘The last time I was here an old man was giving the tour, but when we came by the manager appeared to be a young girl. Everything appeared to be slightly destroyed too? When I asked for a refund because part of the roof fell on me, she told me to shut my yap. Other than that, great as always. Love the money bag.” She gave a fist pump. “Aww yes, I got us a five out of five! Let’s read more, this is fun!”

“Actually, Mabel, we’ve gotta keep looking.”

“Awww.”

Dipper tapped on the keyboard. “Okay, I guess the Mystery Shack doesn’t turn up much. How about… just his name?”

He typed that in, and sat back as it loaded.

“Alright, Stan. Let’s see what you’re hiding…”

______________________________________________________________

It was late at night when Stan snuck his way back into the Shack. He opened the front door as quietly as he could, and shut it behind himself, making a face at every creek. He took off his black mask, his leather gloves, and stashed them under the register before moving to the blinds. He kept a close eye on the parking lot as he drew them closed; it didn’t look like he’d been followed.

Ugh. Stan didn’t like messing with the feds, but it wasn’t like anyone else had any radioactive waste handy. He’d scope out the place a few more times, just to be safe… but that was for another night.

With a big sigh, Stan headed over to the vending machine. He raised his arm to input the code, but something told him to look around first. His eye caught on a small darkness on the base of the staircase, and he paused a second before pressing the code for a candy bar. He picked it up, unwrapped it, and munched on it as he headed for the living room.

“Grunkle Stan.”

There it is. He turned on the light.

“Oh, hey Dipper. Having fun standing in the dark like that?”

Dipper had his arms crossed. “You’re out late.”

“Yeah, ’cause I’m old and I do what I want.” He sank into the chair. “What’s up, kid? If you’re gonna ask for your journal back you’re gonna be disappointed.”

“No, that’s not why I’m here.” He pointed to a large stack of papers on the side table. “I found this.”

“Huh? Oh, you didn’t use the copier, did you? Paper’s expensive, kid.”

“No, I printed it out at the library.” He made a face. “It was like twenty dollars. Now look!”

“Ugh, I already sat down, kid. Can’t we- Oof!” He grunted as the pile was dumped in his lap. “Watch it, that’s a lot of paper! You’re gonna have to summarise whatever this is, because I am not-”

“It’s your thesis, Grunkle Stan!”

Grunkle Stan paused, and looked up at Dipper. He looked very, very serious, and he came a step closer.

“Well?”

“Well… well what? Thesis?” Stan tried to stand up, but the papers kept him down. “I don’t know what you mean, Dipper. Seriously, I’ve never seen this before in my life-”

“You wrote it!”

“What?”

“Look!” He grabbed the top page and stabbed a finger at the author line. “Stanford Pines! All summer long you said you didn’t even go to college, but you’ve got a PhD! You wrote a thesis about anomalous sightings in the western United States! Admit it - you are the author!”

Stan found himself shrinking back; he had a bad feeling he wasn’t going to be able to brush this off. “Wh-where’d you even get that from?”

“I found your college online. Apparently they’re still writing about your thesis since it’s the only nationally ranked one in their history.” Dipper clicked his pen. “You’re, you’re a genius, Grunkle Stan! I-I have so many questions, like why didn’t you tell us? Why’d you stop writing the journals? Where are the other two?”

“I… I…” He took a deep breath. He had to get control of this. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, ki-”

“Oh come on-”

“I don’t! Look, there’s obviously been some kind of mix up, it’s not like Stan Pines is a rare name-”

“Already thought of that.” Dipper held up an article. “I found this piece about how you used your grant money to build the Mystery Shack. It’s even got a photo - it’s you.”

It was a gutpunch to see Stanford’s college photo shoved in his face, but he tried to swallow it. “Kid-”

“I don’t understand why you won’t just admit it. I know you don’t want us messing with the supernatural, but all summer long I’ve been reading your journal, trying to solve the mysteries of this town. The author was a huge one - I-I was kind of worried I’d never find out, or I’d find out he was dead or something, but it’s you!” He grinned. “And now I know, we can work together! You don’t have to keep pretending! You can trust me with this!”

Stan looked down at his nephew’s face, and gave a deep sigh. There was no easy way out of this. With a bit of struggle, he hefted the thesis off his lap and onto the floor, then put a hand on Dipper’s shoulder.

“Dipper, listen. I’m not the author.” Stan saw him open his mouth and quickly continued. “I’m not, okay? I know you like your mysteries, but just this once, could you please just take my word on this one?” He made a face. “I don’t want you or your sister getting hurt. So just forget about it, okay?”

Dipper frowned at him, and for a moment Stan didn’t think that was gonna work - it was a long shot, anyway. But then something seemed to click in his mind, and he stepped back.

“Forget…” he said. “Grunkle Stan, do you know about the Society of the Blind Eye?”

“The what?”

“It’s-“ He reached under his arm and rolled his eyes when he realized there was no journal. “Ugh, I’ll draw it.”

He grabbed a paper from the pile and started sketching something out. Stan stood there, a little confused.

“Sounds like a cult. Did you join a cult? Ugh, your folks are gonna kill me.”

“It’s this!” Dipper shoved a paper in his face - a crossed out eye, a symbol Stan remembered seeing somewhere in the journals. “Have you seen this before?”

“Kid-”

“Ugh, that doesn’t prove anything, though. You might’ve forgotten that too.” He clicked his pen, and then took off for the stairs. “I’ll be back!”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Stan called out, but he was already gone. He threw his hands up in the air. “Great. Perfect. Hey, can you come back down and explain what all that was? Dipper?”

No reply. Stan frowned; he made to follow, but his foot caught on the stack of papers. He caught himself on the wall, and turned back to look at the scattered pile. Each page was lit by TV static, stark white in the light, and pitch black in the shadows. He narrowed his eyes at that picture of Stanford, that stupid thesis.

“Fine.” He gave the mess a kick and stalked into the gift shop. “Fine.”

Dipper wasn’t going to stumble into this so close to the finish line. He’d worked too hard for too long. If the kid was so intent on figuring him out, he’d just have to work faster.

He gave a long look around before entering the code. The venting machine swung open with a puff of air, and he shut it quickly behind him before marching down the steps.

No more scoping out. It was time to finish the job.

#gravity falls #stan pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #toothwrites #fanfiction

[valkyriesryde]

Release the Hounds {9/?}

Chapter 9: Wait for Summertime

Pairing: Persephone!Steve Rogers x Hades!Reader

Chapter Summary: The god of Spring has disappeared and no one has seen Hades for a week since. That doesn’t mean she is gone or has admitted defeat.

Word count: 2,800ish

A/N: *warning nods of parental abuse* I wrote this while listening to Hadestown so I fell ya’ll should know this chapter is heavily influenced by that soundtrack hahah, anyway, hope you enjoy! 

When Hades separated the Underworld from Olympus she separated herself from the obligations of working for the Olympians and following their rules and regulations. She had free rein over what she and those residing in the Underworld could do, she had freedom to rule the way she wanted to. 

When the prospect of her joining the council of the Olympians came up one of the things that was vitally important to Hades was that the Underworld remained free of Olympian control; yes they would work together on issues that affected both populations, but no, the Olympians would not hold any authority in the Underworld just as she held none in Olympus. 

Technically speaking, to make it easier to understand, the Underworld and Olympus were to separate countries that, in the event that Hades did join the council, had a council that overlooked both countries and how they worked together and shared resources and experience. Sort of like the European Union. 

That’s at least what Hades hoped for and the terms she discussed with Thor, in an incredibly detailed report that he had to read twice to understand completely. 

But things were different now, things didn’t go as planned.

Immediately following the speeches of both Demeter and Hades eleven Olympians of the council were to meet and the decision of whether or not Hades would join would be decided. Neither parties were to be present and neither were able to vote, “to make things fair” Thor said. 

However, as the gods [ThorZeus, JaneHera, LokiPoseidon, NatashaAthena, Peter QAres, TonyHephaestus, BuckyApollo, RebeccaArtemis, PepperAphrodite, T’ChallaDionysus and PeterHermes] began to make their way to meet, word reached them that the god of spring had disappeared. He had gone missing straight after the presentation along with Hades and her judges. 

With a cry for justice Demeter demanded the gates of the Underworld be taken down until her son was found. Thor refused. He said there was no evidence that Steve was even missing through force and not his own accord. But the other gods weren’t overly convinced that Steve wasn’t already under some sort of influence from Hades. And with the cries of Demeter the council decided that until Steve was returned safe and his side of the story was shared that the vote will be suspended. 

As Loki told Hades this she rolled her eyes and cursed under her breath. She rubbed her hands over her face and turned off her computer, standing from her desk she walked around to stand in front of Loki and shrugged her shoulders. 

“There’s nothing I can do. I don’t know where he is Loki, I swear it,” she told him and he told her he believed her. They hugged, Loki bid farewell and returned to Olympus and she closed the door behind him and locked it. 

That was a week ago and no one has seen Hades since. They’ve heard from her, her own council, the judges and HarleyThanatos, MJ and Peter. But none had seen her. 

When Peter came by to deliver her weekly fruits the door was unlocked but there was no sign of her. He looked in every room, he listened for any footsteps, but he couldn’t find her. She watched him, walked behind him as he called for her and as he wrote her a note saying he’d popped in and was worried about her she almost revealed herself. 

However, as Peter went to walk out the door he turned back to the empty entryway and for a second thought maybe he knew she was here.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but if you can…Bucky says he’s safe.”  

It didn’t take long for Hades to find him. Bucky wasn’t a subtle person when he didn’t need to be and the more obvious he was about his movements the less obvious it was that he was hiding something. 

She wore her helmet, glowing gold and blue but you wouldn’t know it as it sat on her head and made her and everything she wore invisible. Her favourite accessory. Hades followed Bucky from his office well after the sun had set. She followed him into her home and to a doorway that didn’t fit into the rest of the layout of the house. The she was in New York. 

Her helmet now a cap, her attire now a casual jeans and t-shirt as she continued to follow Bucky out of the alleyway and down the busy streets. He weaved through the crowd with a sense of familiarity, she figured this wasn’t the first time he’d done this. 

Bucky’s footsteps slowed as he neared the apartment building, he stepped inside and into the elevator and she followed him in, standing further enough away that he didn’t accidentally walk into her or touch her as he pushed the button for the ninth floor. 

She was his shadow as he walked down the hallway, he’d missed her every time he had looked over his shoulder, he was none the wiser when he unlocked the door and when he called “Honey I’m home” he had no idea he had let her into the apartment after him. 

“Did you bring what I asked?” Steve asked from his seat at the table, a new sketchbook Bucky had brought him open in front of him. 

“Food to last you a lifetime and I even got you a special gift from me to you,” Bucky beamed and started to unpack the backpack he had brought with him. 

Hades stood by the wall and watched the two. This is where Steve was, he wasn’t taken, he wasn’t kidnapped, this wasn’t against his will. He was hiding, he was here because he chose to be. Who did he fear so much that he had to hide? Why hadn’t he told anyone, why hadn’t he told Thor?! 

“I don’t trust your gifts, yesterday you brought a gold fish.”

“That’s what you asked for!” 

“I asked for a some paints because I wanted to paint a koi fish!” 

“Pfft, what’s the difference.” Bucky bit back and leaned against the counter and smirked at Steve who stood from his seat and began walking towards him until he held his hand up for him to stop.

“Wait there, do you want your present or what?”

“Not particularly,” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Oh you’ll want this one.”

“What is it Bucky?” He narrowed his eyes and Bucky ran his tongue over his teeth and turned his head to where Hades stood, her heart started beating faster and she started to back away towards the hallway.

“You’re not as stealthy as you think.” 

Steve looked at the empty space Bucky was looking at confused, he didn’t know what he was talking about or who to. Until Hades appeared in front of him and in her hand a cap that he knew was her cap of invisibility. 

“How did you know?” She asked Bucky, diverting her eyes away from Steve. 

Bucky shrugged his shoulders and patted Steve’s shoulder who still stood there dumbstruck staring at Hades.

“Had a hunch,” he whispered as he walked past her, “you two have a good rest of your night,” he called and soon enough it was just Steve and Hades left in the open living area.

“I’m sorry”

“Can I get you-why are you sorry?” he walked around the counter and stopped to turn towards her. She looked at the ground and fidgeted with the cap.

“I shouldn’t have intruded on you, I’m sorry for invading your privacy,” she said, “I’ll leave you be, you obviously don’t want to be found yet, Bucky shouldn’t have led me here but I also shouldn’t have followed him.” She turned to leave just as Bucky had a minute before but Steve quickly caught her wrist.

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for, I can’t even begin to imagine what impact my disappearance has had. I’m sorry if its caused any repercussions for you. Bucky told me they’ve suspended the vote.” He looked guilty, like a puppy caught doing something he shouldn’t and Hades wanted so badly to reassure him and tell him it wasn’t his fault. “Would you like anything to drink?” 

“I can go-“

“I want you to stay,” Steve had walked back over to the kettle and turned it on, pulling down two mugs, “tea or coffee?”

“Tea please,” she stepped further into the room but still stood awkwardly in the middle of it like she didn’t quite know what to do.

“Truth be told, it’s good to see someone that isn’t Bucky. I love him, and I’m grateful for what he’s done for me but interactions with others is something I oddly miss.” Steve chuckled and placed her mug on the coffee table. He gestured for her to sit with him and she did. 

It’s my fault you’re stuck here. She thought. This is my fight and you were dragged into it. I’m sorry. She wanted to tell him. I’m sorry you shouldn’t have to go through this, you shouldn’t have to hide. This is my fault, this is my fight, you’re a victim. She couldn’t get it out.

“Tell me, how’s the Underworld?” Steve acted as though this was normal, as though they sat and talked before. 

“Truth be told,” she laughed nervously, “I’m not sure. I haven’t been very present for the past week or so.” She brought the mug to her lips. Steve shifted in his seat.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I didn’t know you drew,” she quickly changed the subject, Steve looked up at her curiously, he saw her looking at the discarded papers over the table, the scenes from outside that he had drawn early in the mornings and late into the nights. 

“I dabble, they’re no good though.” He reached to tidy the pile but she stopped him and picked up the discarded papers.

“I’d like to see what you consider good then,” she smiled at him, “this are beautiful.” 

They talked for hours about his drawings, about the things he had seen from his window, about what he thought of New York and how it differed from Olympus, “some bits are similar, it’s all so busy all the time,” he laughed. 

They ignored the elephant in the room as long as they could and Hades tried to ignore how heavy the empty mug was in her hands when she placed it back on the coffee table. 

“Steve,” she took a deep breath and blamed it on her nerves.

“I can’t go back Hades.” He stood from the couch and took their mugs to the sink. She followed him and Steve kept his back to her as he gripped the sink.

“You need to tell Thor, your mother needs to know you’re safe.” She reached out a hand to his shoulder but he spun around, anger and fear across his face.

“So she can find me?!”

“She doesn’t have to know you’re here.” Hades’ voice was calm as she took a step towards Steve, “but I know how terrified she must be, if Harley-if any of the ones I care about disappeared without a word for even a day I would be terrified for them.” 

Steve’s face dropped, words he’d heard before ran through his head. “I would tear down mountains for you…if anything happened to you no one would be safe…” Words his mother had told him once when he yelled at her when he was younger. But Hades would be terrified if her son went missing, if anyone she cared about went missing.

“Why haven’t you been present in the Underworld lately?” He asked, surely she didn’t think of him like he hoped.

“Someone I cared about went missing…” she pushed her fingers through her hair and averted her eyes, “and I was being blamed, I was being punished and I was terrified because I knew it was my fault they were in danger.” Her voice started to rise but she still refused to look at him. “I dragged them into this, I let my idiot brothers give them false hope and I didn’t stop them from putting themselves in immediate danger. You shouldn’t have to be here.”

“I have to be. I don’t want to be here but I have to be.” Steve reached out for her hands and held them to his chest, “I did this to myself.”

“You didn’t-“

“I did. This is no one’s fault but my own. You’re not the villain in this Hades. It’s not because of you I’m hiding here, it’s because of her. It’s because of my own mother I’m hiding for my life, I don’t want to be here but I have to hide from her,” his voice got quiet and his eyes dropped to the floor, “she’ll kill me, she’ll tear down mountains and no one is safe. If she’s focused on finding me that tyranny from hurting anyone else.” 

Hades hand reached up and wiped the tears that began to fall down Steve’s face. She held his cheek and he flinched slightly before relaxing into her touch. Hades realised then the truth behind it all. She thought Demeter was just selfish, that she was just narcissistic but there was more. She’s hurt him before. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, her breathing became heavy and he could practically feel her heartbeat in her wrist.

“I’m fine,” she lied through her teeth and tried to catch her breath. She blamed it on her anger, she blamed it on the pieces she’d put together. She was fine.

Hades stepped back from Steve, she needed to calm her beating heart. But as she walked towards the couch her knees gave out from underneath her and Steve was only just quick enough to catch her. 

“You’re not, you’re weak like Bucky was when he was in the Underworld. You can’t be here for long can you?” 

“Perhaps I’ve overstayed my welcome,” she smiled shyly and leaned against the back of the couch. Steve rushed into the hallway and appeared again holding a familiar black flower. “You can’t use that, it won’t work I’m here with you already.”

“We need to get you back to the Underworld though!” He thought for a second before he remembered Bucky’s escape route if anything went wrong quickly. “I know how to get you back to  Bucky’s and from there he can take you home.” 

The building was quietly when they stepped into the elevator. Hades was weakening quickly now, she leaned against Steve and he was practically holding her up when they reached the basement. 

At the end of the basement, behind piles of stuff and things Steve revealed a door, a sun and moon engraved on the handle. 

“This will take you to him, I’m sorry I can’t take you back to the Underworld.” Steve was rushed, he reached for the handle and was too focused on the woman in his arms he didn’t notice the symbol change to a three headed dog until the door was swung open and he saw a cave that looked out to the river Styx. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s me,” she said quickly, “it’s okay,” her breathing was uneven as she stayed on the side of the door with Steve. “Steve…”

“You’re home, it’s okay. Go.”

“No, wait…if she finds you…” she could barely get the words out, “use the dahlia…she has no eyes in the Underworld…I promise Steve…” she gripped his shirt and he tried to push her over the line. Her eyes drooped and her strength was no more. “I’ll protect you there.”

“And I’ll protect you now.” He said and pushed her over the threshold, the door slammed and disappeared behind her before Steve could close it himself. He stared at the door and hoped she was okay. The symbol changed back to its original form and he dropped to the floor with a sigh as he started to cry. He was terrified. This is my fault, I’m so sorry. 

Hades fell to her hands and knees, she felt the dirt under her fingers and took a deep breath as she felt the air fill her lungs. She stood from the ground and tucked her cap into the back pocket of her jeans. Hades walked out of the cave with her head held high, she walked down the bank of the Styx with her head held high and Cerberus ran towards her as she neared the gates.

Pietro and Harley were standing there has they guided souls through the right doors and when they turned and saw the queen walking towards them they were confused.

She was straight faced and didn’t stick around to answer any questions. Hades, with Cerberus on her tail walked between the two and through the gates but not before placing a quick kiss on Harley’s forehead and brushing a reassuring hand over Pietro’s shoulder. She walked through the gates and turned around as they watched her go. 

“I apologise for my absence boys. Family dinner, tonight.”

Chapter Ten: Face Value

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[katehuntington]

Title: In Bad Waters - part eight Word count: ±2900 words Episode summary: Still in possession of the Winchesters’ belongings, Zoë meets up with the hunters on her next case. When it turns out to be a little more complicated than anticipated, she accepts their help in order to make an important deadline. Part eight summary: Zoë might have accepted the boys help, that doesn’t mean they get along. If the hostility between them isn’t enough, Sam and Dean have some unresolved issues of their own. Episode warnings: Dark! NSFW, 18+ only! Descriptions of domestic violence/child abuse. Drug use/addiction. Angst, gore, violence, character death. Description of blood, injury and medical procedures/resuscitation. Swearing, alcoholism. Supernatural creatures/entities, mentions of demon possession. Descriptions of torture and murder, drowning. Illegal/criminal practices. Mentions of nightmares and flashbacks. Author’s note: Beta’d by @winchest09​​​​​ and @deanwanddamons​​​​​. Thanks, girls! Gif isn’t mine. If you are the creator or know who made it, please tell me so I can credit you.

Supernatural: The Sullivan Series Masterlist

S1E02 “In Bad Waters” Masterlist

     A little less than an hour later, Sam, Dean and Zoë are sharing a table in In-N-Out. All three scheduled in some time to trade their business suits for their everyday clothes. The boys are comfortable in plaid shirts, worn jeans, and dusty old shoes, while Zoë looks like a totally different person now that she left her black pumps, blazer and dress pants in her hotel room. She’s wearing her hair down, her blown locks playfully curled up after last night’s shower. Her grey shirt has the famous Pink Floyd logo on it; a ray entering a triangle and breaks off into a rainbow when it exits. The brand new biker jacket hangs over the back of the bench while she plays with the loose tie of her All Stars shoe, wiggling her foot rhythmically. 

     U2’s Beautiful Day is playing in the background. It fits, considering the clear blue sky and warm sun outside. Satisfied, Dean and Zoë devour their burgers while Sam has settled for a milkshake, since they don’t have salads at this restaurant. Stunned and a little disgusted, he watches how Zoë intends to break the world record, tailed by Dean. The younger Winchester stares at them both, as the huntress swallows the last bite of the massive Animal Burger and starts on an additional cheeseburger she ordered. Apparently, Zoë doesn’t feel the need to hold back, despite having company, but then again, she wouldn’t change her demeanor for anyone.

     Dean doesn’t even notice her manners as he shares her appetite. He’s more annoyed that she finished her burger before he did. He looks up for a moment as she licks the sauce from her fingers after finishing, then continues eating even faster than he did a moment ago.

     “Dude! Seriously, a food race?” Sam chuckles.      “Wholth?” Dean says with his mouth full.      He swallows his bite, which apparently was a little bigger than he anticipated. He coughs and hits his chest with his fist, Zoë can’t help to laugh when she sees tears appear in his eyes.      “What are you? Fuckin’ five years old?” she grins.      “I wasn’t racing you,” he mutters hoarse.      “Oh, you so were.” She sniggers, dipping one of Dean’s fries in mayonnaise. “Are you gonna eat that?”      Obviously enjoying herself, she waits for his reaction. He watches her move the fry to her mouth with a look of shock and repugnance on his features. How dare she?      Zoë chews on the snack provokingly. as expected he goes for the counter attack.      “Don’t touch my fucking food,” he warns, pulling his portion of fries to his side of the table, clearly annoyed with his colleague stealing. “And I wasn’t racing you, ‘cause if I did, you would be many burger lengths behind, woman.”      “That’s what’s bugging you the most, isn’t it? Dean Winchester just got defeated by a girl,” she nags.      “I can take you with ease,” he claims, confidently.      She laughs in return.“You wouldn’t stand a chance.”      “Wanna bet?”      “Knock it off, you two.” Sam breaks it up and looks from one to the other. “Now, could we concentrate on the case? We all got better things to do.”      “I have better things to do. You on the other hand just have an unhealthy obsession with helping me,” she corrects, as she drinks from her milkshake through the straw.      “Whatever,” Sam counters with a huff. “Let’s focus here. We’re dealing with a frustrated child spirit most likely on a killing spree.”      “Yeah, but how the hell is she still here? I already burned her bones,” Zoë brings to mind.      “She must be connected to some kind of object then, are you sure you burned everything?” Dean checks.

     Zoë slightly tilts her head and glares at him with an attitude. Is he fucking kidding?      “We’re sure, I was there with her,” Sam confirms, jumping in before the huntress can snap at his brother.      “Nothing more romantic than a night at the graveyard,” Dean comments with a little grin, earning a death stare from Sam, and so he continues seriously. “We need to figure out what’s keeping her here before she goes all Mike Tyson again.”      “She probably targets the people who are directly or indirectly responsible for her death. I don’t think she’ll rest until she kills every single one of them unless we do something about it,” Zoë speaks up.      “So, who could be her next target?” Sam wonders.      “It could be anyone, but the biggest candidates for a one way ticket to the land of the dead are probably Mrs. Shire and her son, maybe even Mrs. Dawlson,” Zoë realizes.      “Who?” Sam and Dean question at the same time.      “Her teacher at Elementary School. She knew about the abuse,” she informs, sipping her shake.

     Dean seems confused. After all, he knows Zoë only arrived here last night. “How do you even know that?”      “Because I had a fucking chat with her, asshat,” she claims, snappy.      Dean bites his tongue and shakes his head slightly, letting a silent sigh slip from his lips. This woman is unbelievable. If it wasn’t for Sammy being so dead set on helping the bitch, he would get the hell out of dodge.      Ignoring her comment, he picks up a few fries and stuffs his mouth full, not noticing the exchange of looks between Zoë and Sam. As soon as the youngest Winchester makes eye contact, he knows she didn’t talk to Mrs. Dawlson; she saw something in one of her flashbacks.      “There could be a dozen more possible victims we don’t know about,” Sam states, quickly filling the void before it becomes noticeable.      “True, but to figure out who might be next, we need to find more info on what happened to Laura,” she declares.      “We already know what happened to her. Her dad abused her till death followed, nothing to add to that,” Sam says.      “No, I mean after that.”      Zoë leans forward, snitching another fry from the hunter across from her, who snaps his head up to her, staring her down and wondering where she got the nerve to steal his food twice.      “Don’t you think it’s a little strange that no one found out about this murder yet? Because that what it was; murder. Her father killed her. Child services should have been all over this, especially with another minor in the household. Laura was buried without a conviction, while she obviously did not die of natural causes,” the smart woman brings to mind. “Why is that?”      “I mean, the system is flawed. Maybe they missed it?” Sam suggests.      “No, I don’t believe that. She must have been a mess, considering what her victims look like,” she ponders.      Both boys nod as a sign of agreement; she has a point. Dean rubs his chin as he thinks. Then his facial expression changes, the metaphorical light bulb switching on in his brain. He glances up at the woman opposite of him, who watches him questioning.

     “Dr. Hughes”, he says out of the blue.      “I know that name,” Zoë realizes, trying to remember where she has heard it before.      “It’s the doc from the morgue that we talked to,” he fills in. “He did the slicing on Shire’s dead body and also mentioned Ronald was a friend of his. I thought he responded weird when Sam mentioned the Hobbit dude.”      “Is the Methodist Medical Center the only dead men’s storage in town?” Zoë asks the whizkid on Dean’s right.      “Not sure. Let me check.” Sam takes out his laptop and sets it up on the table. As he works the computer, Zoë continues their brainstorming session.

     “One way or the other, we need to get our hands on Laura’s death report and we need to figure out who wrote it. I’m guessing someone covered for Shire,” she speaks up.      “How is that even possible these days, with all the paperwork and the forensics?” Sam rubs his temple, taking in Zoë for a second, but then returns his gaze to the laptop screen in front of him.      “You think we’re the only ones who lie and deceive?” Zoë returns, smartly. 

     “We need to talk to more people. Someone who was there and experienced the abuse first hand and might know more about the cover-up. The Shire dude’s wife maybe?” Dean suggests.      “We can’t turn up on her doorstep and confront her. If she doesn’t know her husband possibly erased evidence, it’s just gonna bring a shit ton of drama and a hell of alot explaining to do when she starts asking questions,” Zoë makes clear.

     She forks her fingers through her hair and checks her phone for the time; shit. It’s almost 1 PM. Frustrated about the many blank pages of this case, she sighs, pulling at the corner of her bottom lip with her teeth. There’s so much about this job that doesn’t add up.      “I don’t get how she could still be here. There was nothing left of her remains,” she sighs.      “There has to be an explanation for that,” Sam ponders, as he stares at the address on display. “Anyway, there are no other morgues in town besides the one at the hospital on W. Kingshighway.”   

     “I tell you what.” With a neat throw Zoë tosses her empty plastic cup into the garbage can across the aisle. “Sam, you keep an eye on the Shire family. Dean’s gonna have a chat with Dr. Hughes, see if you can get some info on the death report. I’m gonna tail the teacher for a while,” she decides.      Sam nods approvingly before his brother can object. He folds down the laptop screen and gets up. “Sounds good to me.”      “Make sure you keep your eyes open, that little pain in the ass manages to beat up grown ups without the people next door noticing,” Zoë warns as she picks up her helmet from the bench.      “You think this is our first rodeo?” Dean responds with a scoff.      “You didn’t see me coming the other night in Rochester,” she counters sassy.

     As she passes him she pets his shoulder, the one she put a bullet in only two nights ago. Dean flinches when a dim pain shoots through his arm again. That fucking b--      Before he can call her names, she exits the fast food restaurant, probably expecting the Winchesters to follow like obedient dogs. Stunned, he watches her walk over to her motorcycle, huffing in disbelief. First she doesn’t want their help, and now she’s giving out orders like she rules the fucking world. He didn’t think it could be possible, but his detest for her just grew to an all time high.

     “Mark my words, one of these days I’m gonna shoot her down,” he announces frustrated.      “Ahuh,” Sam responds, cynicism on his tongue as he puts the laptop in his backpack. “Just make sure you don’t pull a gun on her in public, will you?”      “Can’t make any promises.” His brother huffs. “Anyway, you can have the car if you drop me off at the hospital. Let’s get this over with so that we can put some distance between us and the Wicked Witch of the West.” 

     Sam’s lips form a constricted smile, luckily his brother doesn’t notice. He has to admit that he’s enjoying the fact that his big brother is being told what to do by a girl, while normally he only takes orders from one person and one person only; their dad. What he finds interesting, however, is that despite a few muttered objections, Dean actually follows through with it. 

     “And you know what’s the fun part about all this?” Sam nags as they exit In-N-Out.      “What?” Dean responds, annoyed, scanning the parking lot in order to spot Zoë’s Road King.      “You have to dress like a penguin again.” The younger Winchester grins as he opens the door to the passenger’s seat.

     His brother stares at him over the top of the car, realizing he’s going undercover as the FBI Agent Young once more.      “Ah, come on! Can’t we trade?” he asks desperately.      Sam laughs and sits down. “No way, dude.”      Dean does the same and closes the door, complaining. “Man, I hate suits.”      “You think I’m comfortable in one during these temperatures?” Sam returns.      “Sam, even if I’d be freezing my ass off, I will never be at ease in that ridiculous outfit,” Dean states while turning the ignition, allowing Gimme Three Steps by Lynyrd Skynyrd to play on the cassette deck.

     “I’m not trading places. I can work some stuff out while I’m guarding the house,” Sam explains, looking outside the window, squinting his eyes to protect them from the sun.      “What stuff?” Dean questions, making sure it’s not just some lame excuse.      Sam looks aside and hesitates for a moment, but then tells him anyway. “I want to call some friends of Dad,” he admits.

     He feels Dean’s piercing gaze, but doesn’t look up. It’s only a matter of seconds before Dean pops the first question.      “Why?” Dean asks sternly.      “Why?! I don’t know about you, Dean, but I wanna find him,” Sam returns defensive.      Dean grips the wheel a little tighter; as if he doesn’t want to find Dad. Seriously? “So do I, but I don’t think it’s wise to start calling random hunters to ask where he is, Sam.”      “I won’t call ‘random’ hunters. I’ll call a few old friends, and why the hell not?” his brother questions.      “Because Dad doesn’t want to be found,” the oldest of the two claims.      “How could you possibly know that, Dean?! Seriously, do you have some kind of telepathic connection with the guy or what?” Sam reacts.      “Hey, you’re the psychic one, not me,” Dean counters. “If Dad wants us involved in his hunt, he will contact us one way or the other. You know that.”      “No, I don’t! I haven’t heard a word from him since I left for Stanford. I don’t understand the blind faith you have in the man,” the younger brother argues.      “You were the one who fucking left, Sam. And let me tell you somethin’,” Dean pauses to enforce his words. “I trust him because he’s a damn good hunter.”      “He’s human! He makes mistakes just like anyone else, only this time you won’t be around to back him up. It’s not some monster that he’s hunting, this is the monster! The one that killed Mom, that killed Jess!” Sam adds up.      “You think I don’t realize that?” The car stops at a traffic light and Dean turns to him, his piercing green eyes judging his brother, the same way John so often has. “Of course I’d rather be backing him up right now, but he decided to do this alone and I accept that.”      “Why the hell, though? Just because he says so?” Sam huffs, shaking his head disappointed.      “Hell yes, because he says so!” his brother snaps. “He leads this mission, and we stick to the orders he gives us. It’s about fucking time you show him the respect he deserves.”      “He has to earn that first,” the younger Winchester responds.      “He earned that a long time ago. Every time he protected you, protected us. Everything that we were taught, all the skills that we’ve learned. You were so caught up in the illusion that school was gonna work out, that when he objected because he didn’t want you to be on your own, you cut all ties,” Dean barks at him as he accelerates faster than necessary. “Why the hell do you want to find him so bad if you hate his guts, huh?”      “I don’t hate his guts,” Sam says, his voice a lot less hostile than a moment ago.

     Dean takes his eyes off the road again and glances at the passenger, noticing the defeated expression on Sammy’s face. Annoyed with himself he looks ahead again, shutting his eyes for a second when a pang of guilt distinguishes the anger in a matter of seconds. He meant to give his little brother a reality check, but all he did was hurt him.      “Sam, I get you want answers. But calling his friends isn’t the way to do it. We just gotta be patient.”

     His brother's jaw clenches and he looks away, not denying nor confirming that Dean is right and that he himself will listen. It doesn’t matter anyway; there’s no way he can turn his brother’s mind around. And Dean claims Sam is the one who is like their old man? Just now he was sure to sit next to a younger version of Dad. 

     He can't agree with the reasoning behind Dean’s actions, though. His older brother dragged him out of school to find Dad and now that it’s coming down to that, he doesn’t want to go out on a search. Sam on the other hand, he has to find him. Not only does he have some unresolved issues with his father, John is also the only hunter who has been tracking the thing that ruined their lives. He is the key to finding answers. It’s all he can think of; hunting down the bastard that killed Mom and Jessica. 

     Without saying another word, Dean drives his Impala to their motel, convinced he made his point, even though he hurt his brother’s feelings to get the message across. But Sam isn’t going to let go, neither will he trade places with Dean on their jobs. During his hours of watching the Shire family, he’s gonna make those calls and he is going to find their father. Whether Dean likes it, or not.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate every single one of you, but if you do want to give me some extra love, you are free to like or reblog my work, shoot me a message or buy me coffee (Link to Kofi in bio at the top of the page).    

Read chapter nine here

#Supernatural: the Sullivan Series #Supernatural OFC series #Supernatural fanfiction #Dean Winchester fanfiction #Sam Winchester fanfiction #Dean fanfiction #Sam fanfiction #Dean angst #Sam angst #Dark!Supernatural #supernatur #spn #stss #1x02 in bad waters #Zoë Sullivan #Kate Huntington

[maximelebled]

2019 & 2020

Hello everyone! So yeah, this yearly blog post is about three... four months late... it covers two years now.

I did have a lot of things written last year, last time, but the more things have changed, the more I’ve realized that a lot of things I talked about on here... were because I lacked enough of a social life to want to open up on here.

In a less awkwardly-phrased way, what I’m saying is, I was coping.

Not an easy thing to admit to in public by any means, but I reckon it’s the truth. Over the past two years, I’ve made more of an effort to build better & healthier friendships, dial back my social media usage a bit (number 1 coping strategy), not tie all my friendships to games I play, especially Dota (number 2 coping strategy), so that I could be more emotionally healthy overall. 

Pictured: me looking a whole lot like @dril on the outside, although not so much on the inside. (Photo by my lovely partner.)

To some degree, I believe it’s important to be able to talk about yourself a bit more openly in a way that is generally not encouraged nor made easy on other social networks (looking at you, Twitter). I know that 2010-me would be scared to approach 2020-me; and it’s my hope that what I am writing here would not help him with that, but also help him become less of an insecure dweeb faster. 😉

Not that recent accomplishments have stopped me from being any less professionally anxious. Sometimes the impostor syndrome just morphs into... something else.

Anyway, what I’m getting at is, the first reason it took me until this year to finish last year’s post is because, with my shift in perspective, and these realizations about myself, I do want to keep a lot more things private... or rather, it’s that I don’t feel the need to share them anymore? And that made figuring out what to write a fair bit harder.

The other reason I didn’t write sooner is because, in 2018, I wrote my "year in review” post right before I became able to talk about my then-latest cool thing (my work on Valve’s 2018 True Sight documentary). So I then knew I’d have to bring it up in the 2019 post. But then, I was asked to work on the 2019 True Sight documentary, and I know it was going to air in late January 2020, so I was like, “okay, well, whatever, it, I’ll just write this yearly recap after that, so I don’t miss the coach this time”. So I just ended up delaying it again until I was like... “okay, whatever, I’ll just do both 2019 and 2020 in a single post.”

I think I can say I’ve had the privilege of a pretty good 2019, all things considered. And also of a decent 2020, given the circumstances. Overall, 2019 was a year of professional fulfillment; here’s a photo taken of me while I was managing the augmented reality system at The International 2019! (The $35 million dollar Dota 2 tournament that was held, this that year, in Shanghai.)

If I’d shown this to myself 10 years ago it would’ve blown my mind, so I guess things aren’t all that bad...!

I’ve brought up two health topics in these posts before: weight & sleep.

As for the first, the situation is still stable. If it is improving, it is doing so at a snail’s pace. But quite frankly, I haven’t put in enough effort into it overall. Even though I know my diet is way better than it was five or six years ago, I’ve only just really caught up with the “how it should have been the entire time” stage. It is a milestone... but not necessarily an impressive one. Learning to cook better things for myself has been very rewarding and fulfilling, though. It’s definitely what I’d recommend if you need to find a place to start.

As for sleep, throughout 2019, I continued living 25-hour days for the most part. There were a few weeks during which I slowed down the process, but it continued on going. Then, in late December of 2019, motivated by the knowledge that sleep is such a foundational pillar of your health, I figured I really needed to take things seriously, and I managed to go on a three month streak of mostly-stable sleep! (See the data above.)

Part of what helped was willingly stopping to use my desktop computer once it got too late in the day, avoiding Dota at the end of the day as much as possible, and anything exciting for that matter... and, as much as that sounds like the worst possible stereotype, trying to “listen to my body” and recognizing when I was letting stress and anxiety build up inside me, and taking a break or trying to relax.

Also, a pill of melatonin before going to bed; but even though it’s allegedly not a problem to take melatonin, I figured I should try to rely on it as little as possible.

Unfortunately, that “good sleep” streak was abruptly stopped by a flu-like illness... it might have been Covid-19. The symptoms somewhat matched up, but I was lucky: they were very mild. I fully recovered in just over a week. I coughed a bit, but not that much. If it really was that disease, then I got very lucky.

(Pictured: another photo by my lovely SO, somewhere in Auvergne.)

My sleep continued to drift back to its 25-hour rhythm, and I only started resuming these efforts towards the fall... mostly because living during the night felt like a better option with the summer heat (no AC here). I thought about doing that the other way (getting up at 3am instead of going to bed at 7am), and while it’d make more sense temperature-wise, that would have kept me awake when there were practically no people online, and I was trying to have a better social life then, even if had to be purely online due to the coronavirus, so... yeah.

I’ve been working from home since 2012! I also lived alone for a number of years since then. For the most part, it hasn’t been a great thing for my mental health. Having had a taste of what being in an office was like thanks to a couple weeks in the Valve offices, I had the goal of beginning to apply at a few places here and there in March/April. Then the pandemic hit, so those plans are dead in the water. I wanted 2020 to be the year in which I’d finally stop being fully remote, but those plans are now dead in the water.

Now, at the end of the year, I don’t really know if I want to apply at any places. There’s a small handful of studios whose work really resonates with me, creatively speaking, and whose working conditions seem to be alright, at least from what I hear... but, and I swear I’m saying this in the least braggy way possible... there’s very little that beats having been able to work on what I want, when I want, and how much I want.

This kind of freelance status can be pretty terrifying sometimes, but I’ve managed (with some luck, of course) to reach a safe balance, a point at which I’ve effectively got this luxury of being able to only really work on what I want, and never truly overwork myself (at least by the standards of most of the gaming industry). It’s a big privilege and I feel like it’d take a lot to give it up.

Besides the things I mentioned before, one thing I did that drastically improved my mental health was being introduced to a new lovely group of friends by my partner! I started playing Dungeons & Dragons with them, every weekend or so! And in the spirit of a rising tide lifting all boats, I managed to also give back to our lovely DM, by being a sort of “AM” (audio manager)... It’s been great having something to look forward to every week.

Something to look forward to... I’ve heard about the concept of “temporal anchors”. I had heard about how the reason our adult years suddenly pass by in a blur is because we now have more “time” that’s already in our brains, but now I’m more convinced that it’s because we’re going from a very school routine such as the one schools impose upon us, to, well... practically nothing.

I thought most of my years since 2011 have been a blur, but none have whooshed by like 2020 has, and I reckon part of that is because I’ve (obviously) gone out far far less, and most importantly there wasn’t The Big Summer Event That The International Is, the biggest yearly “temporal anchor” at my disposal. The anticipation and release of those energies made summer feel a fair bit longer... and this year, summer was very much a blur for me. In and out like the wind.

I guess besides that, I haven’t really had that much trouble with being locked down. I had years of training for that, after all. Doesn’t feel like I can complain. 😛

(Pictured: trip to Chicago in January of 2019... right when the polar vortex hit!)

Work was good in 2019, and sparser in 2020. Working with Valve again after the 2018 True Sight was a very exciting opportunity. At the time, in February of 2019, I was out with my partner on little holiday trips around my region, and, after night fell, on the way back, we decided to stop in a wide open field, on a tiny countryside path, away from the cities, to try and do some star-gazing, without light pollution getting in the way.

And it’s there and then that I received their message, while looking at the stars with my SO! The timing and location turned that into a very vivid memory...

I then got to spend a couple weeks in their offices in late April / early May. I was able to bring my partner along with me to Washington State, and we did some sightseeing on the weekends.

(Pictured: part of a weekend trip in Washington. This was a dried up lakebed.)

After that, I worked on the Void Spirit trailer in the lead to The International. In August, those couple weeks in Shanghai were intense. Having peeked behind the curtain and seen everything that goes into production really does give me a much deeper appreciation for all the work that goes unseen. 

Then after that, in late 2019, there was my work on the yearly True Sight documentary, for the second time. In 2018, I’d been tasked with making just two animated sequences, and I was very nervous since that was my first time working directly with Valve; my work then was fairly “sober”, for lack of a better term.

(Pictured: view from my hotel room in Shanghai.)

For the 2019 edition, I had double the amount of sequences on my plate, and they were very trusting of me, which was very reassuring. I got to be more technically ambitious, I let my style shine through (you know... if it’s got all these gratuitous light beams, etc.), and it was real fun to work on.

At the premiere in Berlin, I was sitting in the middle of the room (in fact, you could spot me in the pre-show broadcast behind SirActionSlacks; unfortunately I had forgotten to bring textures for my shirt). Being in that spot when my shots started playing, and hearing people laughing and cheering at them... that’s an unforgettable memory. The last time I had experienced something like that was having my first Dota short film played at KeyArena in 2015, the laughter of the crowd echoing all around me... I was shaking in my seat. Just remembering it gets my heart pumping, man. It’s a really unique feeling.

So I’m pretty happy with how that work came out. I came out of it having learned quite a few new tricks too, born out of necessity from my technical ambitions. Stuff I intend to put to use again. I’m really glad that the team I worked with at Valve was so kind and great to work with. After the premiere, I received a few more compliments from them... and I did reply, “careful! You might give me enough confidence to apply!”, to which one of them replied, “you totally should, man.” But I still haven’t because I’m a massive idiot, haha. Well, I still haven’t because I don’t think I’m well-rounded enough yet. And also because, like I alluded to before, I think I’m in a pretty good situation as it is.

It’s not the first encouragements I had received from them, too; there had been a couple people from the Dota team who, at the end of my two week stay in the offices, while I was on my way out, told me I should try applying. But again, I didn’t apply because I’m a massive idiot.

(Pictured: view from the Valve offices.)

To be 200% frank, even though there’s been quite a few people who’ve followed my work throughout the years, comments on Reddit and YouTube, etc. who’ve all said things along the lines of “why aren’t you working for them ?”, well... it’s not something I ever really pursued. I know it’s a lot of people’s dream job, but I never saw it that way. I feel like, if it ever happened to me... sure, that could be cool! But I don’t know if it’s something I really want, or even that I should want?

And if you add “being unsure” to what I consider to be a lack of experience in certain things, well... I really don’t think I’d be a good candidate (yet?), and having seen how busy these people are on the inside, the last thing I want to do is waste their time with a bad application. That would be the most basic form of courtesy I can show to them.

Besides, Covid-19 makes applying to just about any job very hard, if not outright impossible right now. And for a while longer, I suspect.

(Pictured: the Tuilière & Sanadoire rocks.)

I’m still unhappy about the amount of “actual animation” I get to do overall since I like to work on just about every step of the process in my videos, but well. It’s getting better. One thing I am happy with though, is “solving problems”. And new challenges. Seeking the answers to them, and making myself be able to see those problems, alongside entire projects, from a more “holistic” way, that is to say, not missing the forest for the trees.

It’s hard to explain, and even just the use of the term “holistic” sounds like some kind of pompous cop-out... but looking back on how I handled projects 5 years ago vs. now, I see the differences in how I think about problems a lot. And to some extent I do have my time on Valve contracts to thank a LOT in helping me progress there.

Anyway, I’m currently working on a project that I’m very interested & creativefuly fulfilled by. But it has nothing to do with animation nor Dota, for a change! There are definitely at least two other Dota short films I want to make, though. We’ll see how that goes.

Happy new year & take care y’all.

#year in review

[rhub4rb]

Me, Just me

Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6

This chapter is kinda short but it fit to end the chapter where I did so–

-_-_-_-_-

It was the weekend, finally, and Marinette sat outside in her lounge chair, allowing herself to relax.

She had been working on her scholarship application all week, and even took the last three days off from school just to focus on it.

She obviously didn’t tell the class about why she was absent, only Mme. Bustier, who was fine with Marinette deciding to focus her attention on her application.

Now it was the weekend, and Marinette could confidently say that her application was done. All she could do now was wait and hope for the best.

So being able to sit outside and just breathe for a moment felt like a gift and being able to relax and say she had done everything she could felt good.

So of course, her wonderful Saturday afternoon had to be interrupted by a cat.

“Why hello Princess,” Chat Noir said as he landed on her balcony railing. “You seem to be in quite a good mood.”

“What are you doing here Chat?” Marinette asked, unsure of why her partner would visit her civilian identity. “Is there another akuma?”

“Can’t I just come and visit my favorite civilian?” Chat asked, only to be faced with Marinette’s deadpan expression. “Really! I was just on a stroll and thought I might stop by.” He explained.

Marinette didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t pry into it.

“So, any reason for why you seem to be so happy?” Chat asked.

“What, I can’t just be happy?” Marinette asked, but she had a teasing grin on her face. “Truth be told, I’m just a lot less stressed than I have been for the past two weeks.” She said.

Chat cocked his head to the side questioningly.

“I’m transferring to a new school.” Marinette said, Chat’s eyes widening. “Or well, that’s the goal. I just finished my scholarship application, now I just have to cross my fingers.”

Chat looked shaken by the information, smiling awkwardly.

“May I ask what made you decide to transfer, Princess?” Chat asked, his voice wavering slightly.

Marinette raised an eyebrow questioningly but didn’t say anything about Chat’s behavior.

“Truth be told, I’ve been kinda depressed at school for the past two months.” Marinette said, looking down at the ground as she stood beside Chat. “I wasn’t planning on transferring in the beginning, but then I wrote to my Nonna about a situation at my school, and she said that sometimes, it’s okay to be a bit selfish, that it’s necessary even, and that’s when I decided to do something for myself.” Marinette explained.

“There’s no point for me to stay somewhere I’m not wanted, especially if I’m miserable there, so…” Marinette shrugged. “I’m leaving Dupont. Even if I don’t get into the school I applied to, I’m not staying there.”

Chat looked pale at her explanation, but Marinette had no idea why that would be. It wasn’t like he knew what was going on anyway.

“Where did you apply?” Chat asked, his voice higher than normal.

“Académie Voltaire.” Marinette said. “It’s a pretty high-class school, and I wouldn’t be surprised if I don’t get in, but it’s worth a shot. I wasn’t even attending class for the past three days just so I could focus on my application.”

“And you really want to get in?” Chat asked.

“More than anything.”

 -

“She’s transferring Plagg, transferring!” Adrien exclaimed. “How did I not notice how bad she was feeling before?”

“Well would you have done things differently if you knew?” Plagg asked.

Adrien was about to answer that absolutely he would have done things differently, but then he thought about it, how the class went against Marinette, Marinette, without a second thought. About what would have happened if he was the one, they turned on.

“I… don’t know.” Adrien said in defeat, slumping in his bed. “I want to help her but…”

“But you don’t want to sacrifice yourself in the process.” Plagg finished.

Adrien winced at the words, but he didn’t try to deny it.

Plagg sighed. “Look Kid, there’s not much you can do for her now, other than apologize and support her decision of leaving.” Plagg said. “I would have left too if I was her.” He mumbled quietly.

“That just doesn’t feel like… enough. It’s my fault she’s even feeling like this in the first place.” Adrien said.  He looked out his window in thought, trying to think of something he could do.

“Hey Plagg, do you know anything about Académie Voltaire?” Adrien asked suddenly.

“No? Why would I know anything about it?”

Adrien then looked at his computer and got up from his bed.

There must have been something he could do.

 -

The days waiting for her letter from Voltaire went excruciatingly slow, in Marinette’s opinion.

It probably didn’t help that she still had to be at Dupont while she waited, but hopefully her patience would have been worth it.

Adrien had been acting… weird towards her though, if Marinette had to be honest. Nicer. She couldn’t figure out why though.

Marinette had overheard Nino warning Adrien again, about how it was a bad idea to be around her, but Adrien just said that despite what Marinette had done, she still deserved a bit of common decency.

Marinette didn’t know what to think about that.

He walked her home often too, and while at the beginning, it was a bit annoying, Marinette started to enjoy talking to someone other than Tikki.

Marinette felt… appreciated, and she didn’t realize how bittersweet that thought felt until fat tears were rolling down her cheeks one night and Tikki tried to calm her down.

He should know that she would be gone, Marinette thought suddenly, after she had finally stopped crying. It wouldn’t be fair to him that he was doing this, for her to just disappear.

Marinette asked what Tikki thought about telling Adrien, and Tikki was all for it.

Had Marinette forgiven Adrien completely? No, and she probably wouldn’t for a very long time. But he was trying, and it was something, and for once since this Lila mess started, Marinette felt wanted. Like she actually existed and mattered.

 -

“Marinette!”

Marinette woke with a start as Sabine’s voice went booming through her room.

“I’m up! I’m up and I’m not running late, I swear!” She yelled as she scrambled off her bed.

Sabine just laughed from where she was standing, watching her daughter run around her room, trying to get ready as fast as possible.

“While that’s good Marinette, I have a letter that’s addressed to you.” That stopped Marinette dead in her tracks, and she snapped her head to her mother who was holding an envelope, one with Voltaire’s school crest on it.

Marinette ran towards her mother faster than Sabine thought possible, and reached for the letter, but Sabine held the letter away from her.

“Why don’t you open in downstairs with Papa and I?” Sabine said, a gentle smile on her lips. Marinette just nodded and hurried downstairs, Sabine following close behind her.

Marinette found Tom already sitting on the couch, waiting patiently, when she came downstairs. Marinette realized her parents must have closed the bakery for this.

Sabine joined her husband on the couch, handing Marinette the letter, but Marinette remained standing.

She looked at the letter, then at her parents, her hands shaking.

“It’s going to be okay, sweetie.” Tom said reassuringly. “Even if you don’t get in, you did your best.”

Marinette nodded, then looked at the letter in her hands, letting out a shaky breath.

Shutting her eyes tight, Marinette ripped the envelope open and took out the letter, folding it out.

Slowly, she opened one of her eyes, reading.

Congratulations, you’ve been accepted…

The scream she let out could be heard all the way to Dupont.

 -

Marinette didn’t end up going to school that day, deciding to instead to stay home and help at the bakery.

Still, she kept an eye on the clock for when school would end, having something important to do.

When that time finally came, she left her parents with kisses on the cheek, as she went to Dupont to talk to Adrien.

She didn’t enter the school when she arrived though, instead choosing to wait at the side of the building, watching students leave without noticing her.

She had texted Adrien, so hopefully he wouldn’t just go.

Marinette spotted Adrien walking out of the school and waved her hand until he spotted her and walked over.

“You texted me earlier saying you had something important to tell me. Why weren’t you at school today?” He asked.

“I’m transferring to a new school.” Marinette said, looking him in the eyes before looking to the side. “I got my acceptance letter today, so I won’t be coming to Dupont anymore.”

Adrien’s eyes were wide, seemingly surprised, but looking at him, it almost felt like he already knew.

“Where are you going to go?” Adrien asked.

And just like that, Marinette told him about Voltaire with stars in her eyes, excitement in her step, as he walked with her to the bakery for the last time.

“Could you… do me a favor?” Marinette asked when they finally reached her home.

“What is it?”

“Could you not tell anyone about this?” Marinette looked to the side. “I… kind of don’t want the others to know about it…” Marinette trailed off, only to look up at Adrien when he placed a hand on her shoulder, a reassuring smile on his face.

“Of course, I won’t say a word.”

Marinette hugged him so tightly he felt like he couldn’t breathe, but he just hugged her back, a silent apology for all the things he didn’t do.

-_-_-_-_-

@kuroko26 @uninspired-writer @magnitude101999 @starry-bi-sky @kaydenth3gayden @choaticneturcl @kristycocopop

#ml salt #miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #sabine cheng #tom dupain #adrien agreste #chat noir #me just me #ladybug #miraculous fic

[beerecordings]

Wait Bee's taking prompts?! Umm ahh number 11 on the list with either Marvin or JJ? (Orifyoucanfindawaytoworkthembothinthatwouldbereallycool) No pressure! I just--I really love your writing ^-^

Hey so I had so much bigger plans for this piece (CAUSE I LY NINJA AND HAD A COOL IDEA FOR A WHOLE STORY) but this request has been in my inbox so long. the gotdam guilt weighs on me!!!!! so I have this snippet, forgive me for the lack of context!! yeah there was going to be a whole recovery arc…. but anyway oh well!!!

the good news is that I wrote like seven different potential story starts based on this request, so now I have a ton of ideas that I’ll hopefully be able to incorporate at some point. so sorry this is just a lil bitty piece, but I think it’s a cool setting and this request inspired me a lot and I really appreciate it!!! thank you ninja!!!!

trigger warning for head trauma and blood

They run like foxes from dogs.

Marvin is before him and he pushes himself faster, faster, faster, trying to bound like his brother bounds, deer-like, the leaping dash of a stag, though Jackie’s always told him he’s more of a flat sprinter, neat and speedy, but not built for difficult terrain.

He’s fairly certain a construction site at two in the morning counts as difficult terrain.

Marvin leaps a pole of rebar sticking up out of the earth, but JJ slams into it at full speed, a bruise exploding onto his shin, and he crumples to the ground with a gasping voiceless choke, clutching at his leg and writhing. Marvin swears venomously and stops short, feet sliding like an ice skater avoiding the side of the rink, and he turns back towards his brother, grabbing his arms and trying to haul him back to his feet.

The shrieking roar of the power approaching grows louder. The horrible noise combined with bright flashes of neon rainbow colors like an aurora borealis encountering a glitch for the first time makes Jameson groan, staggering back to his feet, wondering how long it will take before the heat of Anti’s power toasts them brown. Marvin’s grip slackens on his arms and he sees his brother turning away to dry-heave as their heads fill up with a sensation that can only be described as Overwhelming.

No, no, no. They can’t stop now. They can’t die here.

Anti shouts something, maybe their names. His voice is too distorted to be comprehensible. Jameson sees his shadow among the flames.

He hauls himself to his feet, limping gracelessly, and pulls Marvin along with him, signing a desperate “go, go, go!”

And they run like foxes from the dog.

“Brothers,” cries a wretched voice on the wind. “Little ones, little ones, brothers – ”

Jameson understands no more.

“Almost there,” screams Marvin.

They approach the edge of the yard, charging over dust and concrete, tools and machines, heat and noise and hands clutching at them from behind. Jameson is not sure what it is they’re running towards, but Marvin says continue, and so he continues, onwards, onwards, away.

Towards the deep pit at the edge of the yard.

It’s some kind of foundation dug into the earth, or at least a pit waiting for a foundation to be placed. He cannot see how deep it is, but fuck, it seems far across – perhaps three meters, perhaps more.

“Shit,” he hears Marvin gasp.

“We can make it,” he signs, but he doesn’t think his brother sees his hands speak.

“Too far, puppets,” groans a distortion through the air, a radio-crackled echo. “Too far, too far.”

“Shit,” Marvin repeats, and then, loudly, “Jameson.”

Jameson does not know what he means. Jameson does not know whether he should stop. He does not know if they can make it.

But Marvin does not stop running beside him, and so he continues, and oh, oh, they have to make it.

Strength, not dexterity. Speed on easy terrain. Nothing stands between him and the pit. He just has to run. Just has to dead-sprint, like Jackie told him he should. Just run. Just run. Just jump.

He pushes, pushes, pushes past Marvin, still bounding beside him, delicate and quick, and then he is ahead, and he is at the pit, and he lets his shoes hit the very edge of that concrete abyss before he pushes off –

And lands hard on the other side, rolling painfully across solid earth.

Oh.

Oh.

He made it.

At his side, there is a thud.

He turns and sees, just for one second, Marvin’s hands scrabbling at the side of the pit, and then his brother falls, and Jameson screams noiselessly, reaching out –

The clang of Marvin’s skull connecting with rebar is so clear as to cut through the chaos.

It rings in Jameson’s ears for a long time to come.

Anti is paused on the other side of the pit, a heaving, shaking silhouette suspended through computer-burn colors three meters away, red eyes glittering through the darkness. He stares at Jameson and Jameson stares back, transfixed as a mouse in the gaze of a snake.

“Think you know,” breathes Anti’s terrible voice. “Think you know what pain is?”

He is so powerful he is collapsing, overwhelmed, overfull, too stiff to make the leap, almost too stiff to speak. His voice sounds like a dying man’s put through four different voice changers.

“No,” sputters that grating gasp. “No, Jameson. Not yet.”

“Hey Anti!” screams a voice, a piercing cry through the darkness, and then Jackie brings the daylight early. “Stay the fuck away from my family!”

Jackie appears at Jameson’s side sweating and panting like he’s finished a triathalon, but there is no hesitation to his movement as his hand slashes through the air in a glow of white, banishing the darkness. He grabs Jameson to his chest and hides his face in his chest.

Jameson recognizes this as protection for his eyes. He squeezes his eyelids shut and hides, and waits for Jackie to drive the demon away.

Jackie burns so bright Jameson can no longer be sure that his eyes are closed. He hides for a long time against his chest, adrenaline burning painfully through his blood.

And when, minutes later, there is silence, and Jackie begins to crumple towards the ground, Jameson goes with him, sinking down to the earth and crumpling against the dirt, shaking, panting, gasping together.

“Is he gone?” signs Jameson, without opening his eyes. “Is he, is he, is he gone?”

“He’s gone,” breathes Jackie, fighting to remain conscious from the outpouring of golden power. “He’s gone.”

Jameson shivers against his brother’s shoulder.

“Jamie,” asks Jackie. “Where’s Marvin?”

Oh, oh. Oh, where is Marvin.

Clang.

“Jamie,” repeats Jackie, louder now, louder. “Where is Marvin?”

Jameson’s hands scrabble at the dirt. Towards the pit.

Jackie staggers to his feet and then to the edge of the gorge. The light that he casts illuminates the flood of red blood from Marvin’s skull. He screams aloud.

Jameson faints clean away.

#ask #crystalninjaphoenix #bee writes #blood tw #head trauma tw #marvin was going to like not being able to talk afterwards #and not be able to focus or cast magic #and i was going to have this whole arc about jamie like helping him work through it and all his frustrations #but i just. can't get it done. #still like this though!

[stereksecretsanta]

Merry Christmas, @cryptomoon!

Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

*****

Figure it Out

Stiles didn’t run into the sheriff’s department so much as stomp, carrying a bat and duffle bag filled with supplies of every kind—ranging from cold medicine to chains in cases of accidental lycanthropy.

Jordan met him by the front desk. “He’s in his office,” he said tersely. “We don’t know what’s going on, but he hasn’t spoken a word all day, he’s forwarding all calls to the rest of us, and then forty minutes ago…” He showed Stiles his phone. “He sent this.”

“He’s sending out memos?” Stiles nodded. “Okay. Keep everyone away from his office. If you don’t hear anything in ten, I might need backup.” He checked his duffle—the cold and flu meds were at the top, mixed in with tissues and large wound gauze pads and suture kits, sequestered away from the wolfsbane and mountain ash in sealed jars.

“Got it.” Jordan retreated to where the rest of the deputies were hovering.

Stiles squared his shoulders and went into the office marked “Sheriff”.

John was at his desk, reading glasses perched on his nose while he squinted at his computer. He glanced up when Stiles walked in and winced.

“What’s going on?” Stiles demanded. “What happened?”

His dad’s face sort of…twitched, mouth opening as if to respond, before he twisted his lips and grabbed a pen.

“Oh my god. Okay. Just—write it down and tell me—is it a cold, or some horrible injury? Did you sell your voice to a sea witch?”

John made a face at him and held up the paper he’d been writing on. ‘NOT A COLD. I CAN STILL TALK. MIGHT HAVE ENCOUNTERED A WITCH.’

“Well, good to know you write just like you text,” he muttered. “Okay, if you can still talk, why don’t you? And how do you know you encountered a witch?”

John sighed wearily, like these were unnecessary and inconvenient questions.

Stiles threw his hands up. “Okay, how?”

John turned his monitor around; he had the department security footage pulled up. The timestamp on the screen was from around 7 that morning. John was at a desk helping a woman with some paperwork, smiling as he spoke to her. Nothing unusual happened until she was leaving, when she shook his hand for a second too long and he flinched before she let go.

John tapped the desk, drawing Stiles’s attention to his newest note. ‘AFTER THAT, I TOOK A CALL AND THIS HAPPENED.’ He sighed heavily and lifted his office wastebasket.

It was brimming with flowers of all colors and types, some crushed, others whole.

“Uh…hang on.” Stiles frowned at the flowers. “Flowers appear when you talk?”

John grimaced, shook his head, and sighed again. “Not…exactly,” he said, fumbling over the lily that fell from his mouth. Something thunked heavily onto his desk with it. He lifted a small, red gem and showed Stiles.

Stiles’s jaw hung open like a broken hinge. “Uh, uh…okay. Wait, hang on, I need…backup…” Scott was out of town, Lydia was busy… He grimaced and poked his head out of John’s office. “Hey, Jordan could you get—buh!”

Derek crossed his arms, glowering at Stiles from beside the door.

“What, do you just eavesdrop everywhere?”

Derek’s eyes narrowed; he was somewhat rumpled, though he still wore that damn uniform well.

Ugh. “Fine, since you’re here anyway, I need your…help. Come on.”

Derek sighed through his nose and followed Stiles into the office.

Stiles flapped a hand back at Derek. “Show him the video, maybe we can find her with his-”

John was scribbling furiously before Stiles even finished speaking. ‘HE GAVE HER THE TICKET I WAS HELPING HER WITH.’

Stiles whipped around, but Derek was gaping, too. “How did you not know this?”

Derek shrugged, looking incredibly uncomfortable.

“Okay, I don’t—I don’t understand, are you both cursed? I mean, why not curse the guy who gave you a ticket instead of the guy helping you with it?”

Derek looked at John sharply, brows furrowed.

John gestured limply at the flowers.

Derek frowned harder.

Stiles yanked at his hair. “I haven’t heard of this curse, what is it doing to you? Oh, god, what if it-”

“He isn’t cursed,” Derek said suddenly, “I am.” As he spoke, no less than three lizards tumbled from his mouth. He caught them before they hit the ground, clutching them in folded fingers.

Stiles dropped his hands as a memory stirred from the deep recesses of his brain, the pieces slotting together like a puzzle. He felt his mouth twitch, fought it, and ultimately lost. He laughed his ass off. “Oh my god,” he gasped. “Derek, you were so rude to a witch that she gave you the curse of Toads.” He snickered and looked at John. “And you were apparently so nice she gave you the opposite. It’s a fairy tale curse,” he said, voice trembling. “Dad, you’re the Nice Daughter,” he giggled.

One of the lizards escaped Derek’s grasp and Stiles started laughing again.

“If you don’t stop,” Derek snarled, spewing frogs, “I swear, I’m going to-” He hiccupped out a python and fell silent.

“This is no laughing matter,” John tried, nuggets of gold and silver scattering over his desk. “We can’t exactly wander around like this.” Emeralds, sapphires, and roses dropped into the pile of gold and silver. “I don’t know enough ASL to get by for long.”

Stiles wiped his eyes. “Fine, fine, don’t get all worked up.” He bit his lip to keep from laughing again; the office was filled with flowers and lizards, gems and frogs. It was amazing. “Just…don’t talk. Give me the witch’s info so I can try to figure out how to break this curse.”

John wrote, ‘TAKE DEREK WITH YOU.’

“I got it, I don’t need help.”

Derek snorted.

Stiles glared at him. “Hey, she cursed you. I doubt seeing you is going to give her the warm and fuzzies.”

Derek lifted a brow and smirked, wide and arrogant.

Unimpressed, Stiles drawled, “I said warm and fuzzies, not hot and gooeys. She clearly doesn’t like you. If I take you with, she’ll probably make your curse worse or get pissed off.”

John dropped his head in his hands.

“I am coming with you,” Derek growled, enunciating carefully. Snakes slipped from his mouth.

“Fine, fine, just—stop.” Stiles looked around. “Uh, let’s, um, go get the witch’s address. You have that from her license, right?”

Derek nodded, so Stiles hustled him out.

“Hey, what about these-” John coughed, and something thumped heavily.

“I’m sure animal control can help, Dad, good luck!” He shoved at Derek’s shoulder to get him moving faster.

Darian Vanderpo, the witch, lived in one of the nicer suburbs in Beacon Hills and drove a red sports car.

Stiles tsked lightly. “I’m guessing she was going about eighty in a forty?”

Derek nodded seriously.

“And then, while giving her the ticket, you were lecturing her about the dangers of hurtling around in a three thousand pound hunk of metal and gasoline?”

He nodded again. “Road safety isn’t a joke!” he snapped, and two lizards scampered free.

Stiles snorted. “That’s so funny coming from you. Catch them,” he added, pointing at the lizards. “I’ll be right back.”

“Stiles-!”

He jumped out, slamming the door on Derek’s swearing. He fully expected the witch to dramatically sense him and appear on the front porch or something, so when he made it to the door unimpeded, he was a little surprised, unsure. He knocked, because what else was he supposed to do?

“Ugh, what?” The door swung open, revealing a glowering woman with a robe on, her nose red and chafed, eyes watering.

“Uh…” Stiles glanced back and swore when he saw Derek coming. “You—you cursed my, er, friend. You need to undo it.”

She stalked toward him.

He narrowed his eyes, ready to meet her nose to nose, and was thrown unceremoniously to the yard.

“I don’t have to do shit. Get off my lawn.”

Derek helped Stiles to his feet, fangs bared.

Stiles glared at her. “You can’t just go around cursing people because you’re mad you didn’t get your way.”

“Why not?” She grinned and lifted a hand.

Derek shoved Stiles out of the way, knocking him into the grass again, and braced his legs.

Darian pursed her lips, gaze flicking between them. She rolled her eyes and pulled a tissue out of her pocket, wiping her nose. “Ugh, whatever. If you bring me the ingredients for the counter curse, I’ll break it.”

Stiles got up, carefully testing his bruised hip before putting weight on it. He shot Derek a dark look. “What are they?”

“Just three things.” She fluttered the fingers of her free hand; a rolled up piece of paper dropped into her palm. “Here. Bring these to me, and I’ll break the curse.”

Derek took a step, but she backed away, glaring.

Stiles took it from her. “On my dad, too?”

Her brows furrowed. “Your dad?”

Fuck. “The sheriff.”

Her face cleared. “That isn’t a curse. It’s a blessing.”

“Uh-huh…”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine, that, too. But I’m insulted.” She stomped back to her house. At the slam of her door, Stiles found himself in the jeep, seated in the driver’s seat clutching the paper she’d given them, as if he’d never gotten out.

Derek was in the backseat, strapped in with three seatbelts. “Shut up,” he muttered when Stiles laughed at him. A frog landed in his lap.

Stiles texted John that he and Derek were handling it and drove back to his place. He was dying to read the ingredients, but he had a feeling Darian wasn’t the most patient of witches, and she’d made it pretty clear that she wanted them away from her.

Stiles shooed Derek to the couch. “Stay there, don’t talk, I’ll be three seconds.” He ran to the bathroom for the mop bucket he kept with his cleaning supplies, and thrust it against Derek’s chest. “There. Keep your critters contained.”

“Thanks,” he muttered.

Stiles unrolled the paper and started reading. “‘Bathe in living water, and once cleansed, collect Nerites’ shield. Dry it out in the light of the moon.’” He looked up, frowning, but Derek gestured impatiently for him to go on. He rolled his eyes and looked back at the paper. “I can’t read the rest.” He tilted the page, squinting.

Derek snatched the paper out of his hands. Instead of trying to read it, he lifted it to his face. He scoffed and thrust it back at Stiles. “She spelled it. We probably have to complete the first thing before we can read the rest.” He caught a toad before it could escape the bucket.

“Great. What the fuck is Nerites’ shield?” He pulled out his phone and leaned against the side of the couch, tapping quickly. “He’s a shellfish,” he muttered. “That’d have to be abalone, wouldn’t it?”

Derek blinked at him, then smirked. “I forgot how quick you are at that.” He grimaced deeply as more frogs came loose.

“Uh-huh. Here’s hoping that’s actually what she meant. Let me go get you some water.” Stiles left the room at a quick clip, filling a cup at the dispenser, and fortifying himself. “Okay, frog mouth, let’s get to work.”

Derek glared at him.

“What? We’ve got to go to the ocean, get a shell, and dry it out in the light of the moon. So we have to get it before dark,” he explained slowly, annoyed. “So it can dry all night.”

“Oh. Alright.” The lizard that scampered out with those words had blood on it this time.

Stiles caught it. “Did you bite him?” he demanded, but it didn’t have any visible injuries.

Derek shook his head, looking puzzled.

Stiles released it into the bucket. “Come on,” he said slowly. “We should go so we have time.” He updated John and checked that he was doing okay before they hit the road.

They swung by Derek’s apartment so he could change, then headed out of town with towels, the paper, and Derek’s newly emptied bucket.

The beach was fairly empty when they arrived—considering it was December and about 53 degrees, this wasn’t that surprising.

“This is going to suck,” Stiles muttered as they walked out into the sand.

Derek shook his head. “I’ll get in the water. You’ll freeze,” he added.

“I can handle it. Besides, I think I’m supposed to do it. She wouldn’t let you take it, remember?”

“She doesn’t like me, and I’m a werewolf she just cursed. She was probably worried I’d rip her throat out.”

“Well…”

He glowered.

Stiles patted his shoulder. “You stay up here so you can warm me up when I get out, lizard lips.”

“I hope you step on seaweed,” Derek hissed.

Stiles laughed as he yanked his shoes off. “Well, you’ll certainly know if I do. The code word will be, “Argh!” and I will levitate.” He tossed his shirt on his socks and shoes, followed by his jeans. “Oh, god, this is going to suck.” He sucked in a huge breath, embraced the goosebumps all over his body, and ran. “Oh, holy motherfucking balls,” he cursed as he hit the water, but he didn’t let himself stop. “Dear purple licking son of a bitching hag, oh my god, I hope she suffocates on her own snot.” He got in up to his ribs and dunked himself under, then looked back at the shore. Derek was bent over his knees, laughing and just pouring reptiles and toads from his face.

“Dick!” Stiles shouted. He was shivering so hard, his jaw didn’t want to open, so he took the opportunity to wonder how long he had to stay in the water. The paper had just said “bathe”. He halfheartedly went under again, longer so that his hair was fully saturated, then bounced back up. He shuddered, swearing, and wiped water out of his eyes. Now he just had to miraculously find an abalone shell. Sure. Did it need to be whole? There were plenty of fractured ones around.

He spent three minutes searching, then started back to shore. “I’ll t-try again later, I’m too c-cold. I have to—ow!” He’d stepped on something. Without pausing to think, he curled his toes around it and lifted it to his pruned, half-frozen hands. “Yes!”

On shore, Derek grabbed a towel and ran for the water. He met Stiles in the shallows, wrapping him up tight in a warm towel.

“How’d you keep it so warm?” he wondered dazedly, letting Derek usher him to the jeep.

“I put it under my shirt.” He shoved Stiles into the jeep and cranked the heat.

Stiles used the edge of the towel to wipe his eyes. “I got the shell, go get the paper.” He sniffled. “I can’t believe how easily I found that shell, that was awesome.”

Derek just nodded. He flipped another towel over Stiles’s head, scrubbing over his hair for a second before grabbing the paper and unrolling it. “Says-”

A frog landed on Stiles’s lap, making him flinch. “Dude! Where’s your bucket?”

He grimaced and backed away, holding the instructions out to him.

Stiles took the paper between two fingers. “‘Burn jasmine, bay, and wintergreen, waft in circular motions, and put ashes into moon-dried shell.’ So we have to wait until after it’s dry.”

Derek held his hands up near his mouth. “We could go get the herbs we need now so when we can use them, we have them.” He dumped all of the critters into the bucket at his feet.

Stiles nodded. “Let me get dressed, there’s one of those new age-y incense shops up the road, next to that gas station that should have all of those.” He squeezed the towel tighter around himself for a moment before throwing it off.

They decided to stay near the beach, just in case the third set of instructions required anything nearby. They put the shell on the hood of the jeep and Derek made an illegal campfire for them to keep warm as it got dark. This left them in awkward silence, eating from family sized bags of Doritos and fending off the seagulls brave enough to try to take Derek’s food.

Stiles wasted time texting John an update, filling Scott in, and browsing social media, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t multitask, and it was awkward just sitting there. “So…how’re things as a deputy?”

Derek lifted his brows.

Stiles shrugged. “It’s just weird, seeing you with a real, actual job, let alone as law enforcement.”

“Thanks,” he said dryly.

“You didn't exactly make a good first impression, you set the bar pretty low.”

“While you decided to throw the whole bar out.”

Stiles sneered at him. “Can’t fail to meet expectations if there aren’t any.”

Derek laughed. “Don’t be stupid, you don’t fail at anything.” He turned away swiftly, flicking a Dorito at a seagull.

Stiles looked down, smiling to himself.

They took turns napping in the jeep until, while Derek was sleeping, dawn began to creep up on them. Stiles figured he’d leave Derek to sleep while he was burning them and grabbed the herbs. He’d bundled them together after they’d bought them, so he just snatched the lighter he kept in his duffle and crept away from the jeep. He glanced back, but Derek was still asleep in the passenger seat, head tipped against the glass, fogging up the window.

Stiles lit the bundle and grabbed the shell. He flipped it over so the cupped part was facing upwards and began wafting. They didn’t burn as quickly as he’d expected, a slow smolder with lots of smoke, which made it easy for him to follow the circles with the shell, catching the ashes as he went.

They were half burned when Derek lurched out of the jeeps, boots sliding in the sand, and caught Stiles around the waist, yanking him off balance and burning the tips of his fingers.

“Hey, quit it!” He managed to keep from spilling the ashes by planting his feet. “What’re you doing? Stop!”

Derek let go, panting, and stepped around in front of him. He glanced at the burning herbs in his hand. “What the hell, Stiles,” he snapped.

“Excuse me, did you want to keep spitting up pythons for the rest of your life?”

His nose twitched, but he didn’t respond.

Stiles looked at the smoldering herbs in his hand, burning toward his already overheated fingertips. “Oh. Sorry. I thought you’d sleep through it.” He avoided Derek’s gaze by focusing on wafting the smoke in circles.

Derek muttered something and stalked away.

Stiles tapped the last of the ashes into the shell and leaned into the jeep to put it in a cup holder so they wouldn’t blow away. He caught up to Derek by the water, shoving his hands deep into his hoodie pockets. “Hey, I’m sorry. I thought I could get it done before you woke up.”

Derek shook his head. “Thanks. I was confused,” he added defensively, and a lizard fell from his mouth. They watched it scamper over his boot and then out of sight. “That’s all.”

Stiles nodded. “Yeah, totally. You were sleeping, couldn’t have known.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Let’s go get that third ingredient so you can throw away your promising future career of providing the entire reptilian cast for Snakes on a Plane 2.”

Derek kicked water at him, making him howl with fury, and raced him back to the jeep.

The paper was stashed in the middle console, rolled up around a pen. Stiles glanced over it and grunted.

“What?” Derek caught the frog before it could hit the ground.

“‘River clay mixed with the blood of the gatherer. Mix with the ashes and put all in the shell.’ Ugh, I knew I was gonna have to do something gross for this.”

“Why you?” Derek snapped.

“Blood of the gatherer, dude. I got the shell, I bought the herbs—and I’ll definitely be getting the river clay.” He glowered at the instructions. “Gross. At least it probably doesn’t need much blood.”

“No,” Derek muttered, “wouldn’t want that.” He sputtered slightly over a little green snakes with red spatters all over it.

Stiles stiffened, eyeing it while Derek didn’t seem to notice or care. “Just…get your phone and find us a river, dude.” He shook his head and went to his side of the car. He leaned against the door to check on John, paranoid that he, too, was spitting up blood.

John merely sent a photo of his desk, which was piled with gems of various colors and sizes, gold, silver, and flowers.

‘Congrats,’ Stiles responded, ‘you can retire now.’

John didn’t find that very funny.

“Found one,” Derek called. “Turning on the-” he coughed- “GPS.”

Stiles glanced at him through the windows and wondered if he suspected what Stiles suspected—that the curse was doing more harm than just inconveniencing him.

The river was off some obscure hiking trail and was very small, but it was in fact marked “Forthead River” so he guessed it counted. He gathered the clay into an empty cup he’d had in the backseat.

The shell wouldn’t hold nearly that much, but he figured having extra wouldn’t hurt, just in case they messed up. Then came the real problem.

“No. Absolutely not.”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “So it’s okay for you to ask me to cut your arm off, but I can’t ask you to cut my arm a little?”

Derek glared. “Would you let that go? And it’s different.”

“How? Because it isn’t you?”

“You’re human,” he said, spitting a frog out without even flinching, which was frankly impressive. “I’m not asking you to bleed for me, and I’m certainly not cutting you.”

“One, I’ve bled for you before, and worse, and two, you’re being unreasonable.”

“How’s that?”

“I don’t have anything sharp enough to draw blood and you know how I feel about blood, so you’re—you’re being—mean!”

Derek’s jaw dropped. “Mean? Are you in third grade?”

“Yep. You’re being mean.” Stiles pointed at the reptiles and frogs at their feet. “Now, do you want to stop that or not?” He walked back to the jeep before Derek could answer. “I have bandages and peroxide, we’ll be fine.” He smiled when he heard Derek following him.

“How much do we need?” he muttered while Stiles was digging through his bag for the bandages.

“Uhh, we’ll go with enough to mix with a bit of the clay.” Stiles shrugged. “I don’t know how witchcraft works.”

“Uh-huh.”

Stiles took his top two layers off and rolled his sleeve up. “Okay, I have another cup here-”

“Why?”

“-because I’m prepared for everything, so we’ll try to get the blood in that, add a little bit of the clay at a time, and see what happens.” He moved so he was sitting in the jeep and held his arm out. “Okay. Hit me with your best shot.”

Derek made a disgusted face at him.

Stiles shrugged. “What? I’m nervous. I could just swoon if you’d prefer.”

He just rolled his eyes and took Stiles’s arm, turning it gently as he chose a spot.

Stiles averted his gaze. “Um, so, make it, y’know, deep enough to bleed, so we only have to go once. But, obviously, not deep enough that I’ll need stitches,” he squeaked.

Derek muttered something, and sharp pain lit up Stiles’s arm just a second before numbness spread. “Sorry, I tried to do it at the same time.” His thumb pressed gently into the bend of Stiles’s elbow, rubbing. “Gonna need the cup.”

Stiles passed it over without looking. The only thing worse than blood was his own blood. He felt Derek pressing and prodding at the cut to coax more blood free and hoped they wouldn’t need to make another cut.

“I think that’s enough,” Derek said in a strangled voice. He set the cup beside the tire and turned around to cough out two snakes. They were both bloodied.

Stiles grimaced and turned his attention to cleaning and covering the cut on his arm. It was smaller than he’d been expecting, stirring concern that it wasn’t enough to make the spell work. He grabbed the cup of clay and a butter knife, hopping out to combine and stir.

Only a little would fit in the shell, even tightly packed, so they’d certainly gotten enough blood. Stiles wrinkled his nose as he studied the poor shell. “Ugh, I hope she’s not gonna make you eat this or anything.”

“Gross.” Derek looked at the shell cupped in Stiles’s palm and grimaced.

“At least you won’t be spitting up Kermit every time you speak anymore,” Stiles pointed out. “Not that you talk that much anyway.”

“Who can get a word in edgewise when you’re around?”

“I let people speak when they have something worthwhile to say, and since you’re currently spewing snakes like the Chamber of Secrets, well…”

“There was only one snake in the Chamber of Secrets,” Derek said after a second.

“Yeah, that wasn’t my best work.” Stiles jerked his shoulder. “Come on, I need some coffee so I can insult you properly.”

They were halfway to town when Derek said, “Thank you.”

Stiles glanced at him. “For what? You bought the coffee.”

“For helping me.”

“Only the best for the fine deputies of Beacon County,” Stiles said lightly.

“Are you a faerie?” Derek blurted.

Stiles frowned. “Uh—what? In what context?”

“Fey. The Fair Folk. Because you have this maddening habit of just never accepting thanks and I’d like to know if you have fey magic before I strangle you.”

After a few long moments of silence, Stiles said, “You’re welcome,” as casually as he could.

They both started laughing hard enough that he had to pull over for a minute.

John looked dubious when they met outside of Darian’s house. “You two look like you’re in good spirits.” He had a bucket of his own to catch the flowers and gems he was dropping.

“Just ridiculously tired,” Stiles chirped.

“And caffeinated.”

John shook his head and shrugged, waiting beside the jeep as they climbed out.

Stiles took his duffle bag up with him to ring the bell, since he wasn’t sure how she would react this time. John and Derek stood to his right, tense.

Darian looked like she was still sick; she bared her teeth when she saw them. “What?” she croaked.

Stiles held the shell out to her. “I got everything you asked for.”

“What?” she snapped.

“For breaking my friend’s curse,” he said through his teeth. “You said if we got this stuff, you’d-”

“Right.” She snatched the shell, looking shifty, and set it on something out of sight next to the door. She frowned, shooting Derek a disgusted look. “All you had to do was kiss, you morons.”

Derek and John looked at each other with open horror.

Stiles felt revulsion run so deeply through him that he couldn’t do more than wheeze.

“Goddess,” Darian muttered. “Not him, the other one.” She rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers. “There. Curse gone.” She turned her head away to cough violently into her elbow.

“Is mine gone, too—Well,” John said, looking pleased, “guess that answers that. Thanks.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes. “Derek?”

“I think I’m good,” he said, unimpeded by reptiles. He looked puzzled, staring at Darian.

“You didn’t actually need any of that stuff, did you?” Stiles growled.

Darian shot him a flat look. “For that curse? No.” She scoffed. “What kind of witch do you think I am that I can’t break a curse I cast without tools?” She sniffled and wiped her nose on her balled up tissues, then looked over at Derek. “You. You’re incredibly rude and apparently pretty dense.”

“Hey,” Stiles snapped, “you’re the one cursing people because you have a cold.”

John shifted his feet awkwardly, like he wasn’t sure if he should try to diffuse the situation or not.

Darian studied Stiles, then stepped over to Derek, lifting a finger and pointing at him like a scolding teacher. “People don’t wade into the ocean in December, hold fire, and bleed for just anybody. Get it together.”

Stiles darted a quick, nervous look at him, and winced when he saw the blank expression on his face; his cheeks had reddened, eyebrows had drawn down, but that was it. He swallowed.

Darian hmphed and stalked back to the door.

Stiles said, “Wait!” without thinking it through. When she turned toward him, he dug the cold/flu meds out of his duffle bag. “Here. Thanks.” He shoved it into her hands.

She looked at the box, frowning, so they all made a quick retreat while she was distracted.

“Well,” Stiles said cheerily at the cars. “That was awesome, glad it’s done. Dad, you can drive Derek, right? Great!” He jumped in the jeep and drove off before they could answer.

Unfortunately, recently cursed or not, Derek was still a werewolf, and beat Stiles to his apartment. He was sitting outside when Stiles got there. “I told your dad that I didn’t need a ride,” he said casually.

“I guess,” Stiles muttered. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, rubbed a hand over his head, and sighed irritably. “What?”

“What?” Derek repeated.

“What do you want? You’re just…sitting there.”

Derek stood.

“Not what I meant, asshole.” He scuffed his shoe, then shrugged and decided to bluff his way through the awkwardness. “Whatever, I’m starving, do what you want.” He unlocked his door with stiff, uncomfortable movements, acutely aware of how close Derek was standing. Fucking witches.

Predictably, Derek followed him inside. “I just wanted to talk to you,” he said once the door was shut.

Stiles spun around to face him with a wide, almost manic grin. “Okay. You’re talking. What’s up?”

“About what the witch said,” he said slowly.

“Oh, the ‘get it together’ thing? I don’t know, man, I think she was wrong, I mean, you’ve got a job and an apartment with an entire roof now, I think you’ve got it together.”

“Stiles-” He stepped toward him.

Stiles threw his hands up. “She wasn’t wrong,” he said, “I’m your friend and I’d do anything for my friends. Okay?” His voice sounded light to the point of fragile, even to him. Why’d she have to do that? he thought desperately. We were fine. They only saw each other rarely, and Stiles was happy in his bubble of denial, and then he’d helped someone out and here he was, having a crisis over feelings? Over Derek? He wished he could curse her.

“Okay,” Derek said gently. “Do you want me to go?”

Stiles started to say yes—too much to risk right now, there was a lot happening—when he noticed, on the table by the door where he kept his keys, the damn shell, still filled with clay and ashes and Stiles’s own blood, which he’d let Derek draw. “No,” he said, “you could stay for dinner.”

They ended up making out on the couch and burning the stir fry Stiles was making, but it was worth so much more than the price of the pizza. Even if Derek shoved Stiles right off the couch when he said, “Mmm, talk froggy to me,” mid kiss.

#cryptomoon #stereksanta19 #*fics19 #*gifts19

[hey-hey-chan]

Coffee vs Scantrons - Changbin

❀ College AU + Fluff 

❀ Word count: 3.2 K

❀ Your grades are consistently being one bad after another, and you’re not here for it. You decide to take matters into your hands and meet your teacher during office hours... but unexpectedly, one of your classmates is there as well and invites you to coffee to repay a favor. You’re not jumping for joy since the boy doesn’t have the best reputation in your class, but will you forever be annoyed by his rambunctious nature, or fall for his boyish charm as the class goes on?

❀ A/N: ... i don’t even like coffee, i need to stop writing about it. also shoutout to my number one hype woman ruby who misses my writing and motivated me to write this,,, this one for u <3 also this is unedited. im sorry my writing is so bad,,, iM RUSTY 

----------

“Ok, don’t tell me if the grade is bad though.” 

I planted my hands over my eyes while I shoved my test at my best friend, Euna. She grabbed the test and put it face down so she couldn’t see it either and rolled her eyes at me. 

“C’mon y/n, it probably isn’t even that bad. Like you’re a smart girl, missus straight A.” I groaned at her comment and kept my eyes closed.

“Shut up. I have gotten a... B before. But, seriously just tell me if I should look or not.” Joy just shook her head and look at my test grade. I immediately noted how her features shrunk together and her eyes turned to me sadly. I frowned at her expression.”w-what, is it THAT bad?” 

She pushed the test towards me and there and behold a C- staring at me. I sighed and tried to push the image out. I peeked over at her test score and saw a big fat A taunting me. I wasn’t jealous. I was just disappointed in myself.

...And a tiny bit jealous. 

I groaned and shut my eyes again, hoping I wouldn’t start to cry in the middle of my business class. 

“Hey, it’s okay, we have more tests and Professor Lee is a really good guy, it’ll all work out.” Her advice went in one ear and then out another. 

Yes, a C was passing, but I don’t want to just pass, I want to excel. Plus, my mom would kill me if I got a C, especially because I dropped another one of my classes during the quarter. I had no excuses now. 

“Hey.. hey!” My friend snapped me out of my trance while I just shook my head at her. “Y/n, why don’t you just meet with him after class and get help?” 

I took a big gulp of water, hoping it would calm my nerves. It didn’t. 

“Well, the point is is that I feel like I’m not even struggling.. yet the results I get back are not what I expected. I don’t know what to ask him.” I confessed babyishly. I felt like I was whining for no reason. 

Euna shrugged and packed up her backpack and headed out the door, which made me run to catch up with her. 

Before I could head out the door, I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I skittishly turned around and was now locking eyes with Seo Changbin, the class clown who happened to be incredibly smart and cute to say the least. I always had a small problem with him. 

“Uh, hey, I borrowed a scantron from you the other day, right?” I nodded my head. He gave me a sheepish smile and I knew what was coming. “I’m sorry, I forgot to bring an extra one for you-” Before the boy could finish his sentence, I waved him off.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to pay me back, it’s just a scantron.” I quickly said. Honestly, I was a bit irritated since scantrons are not the cheapest thing, also this is business, I should’ve charged him for it. But I was too nice to be a businessman. 

I turned and walked out the door before he could say anything else and caught up with Euna.

The girl was already out the door and waiting for me with a smirk upon her lips.

“What?” I barked. She pulled on her rain jacket and gave me a suspicious look.

“He totally likes you.” I felt my face turn red at her statement but it was a foolish thought. 

“You’re so wrong, he has a bunch of other girls he talks to. Plus, we have never talked before.” Euna shrugged and walked faster so that I had to speed up my pace. 

“Well, he at least thinks you’re cute. Did you see his blush?” I raised a brow but didn’t want to egg her on. 

“Whatever, think what you want, loser. Focus on Heejun instead.” The girl gasped and slapped my arm lightly while I laughed. Heejun happened to be the boy she was crushing on, but was about 4 years older. It was ... weird. 

“Shut up, don’t come running to me when you discover lover boy likes you.”

I scoffed and pushed the thought out of my head immediately. 

Changbin doesn’t like me. And I won’t give him a chance to.

-----

Professor Lee’s office hours were from 7:30-8:30 am. I had to take the 7am bus to come to school during that time, which means I slept on the bus and almost missed my stop. Thankfully my body naturally wakes up at the rough turn. 

I stepped out into the cold air and wondered if my business grade was even worth the trouble. Ok... it definitely was. But not at 7am. 

I walked up the steps into the building and found his office number. I took a deep breath, not even feeling my anxiety due to the cold, and knocked on the door. 

I waited a few seconds before walking in. I saw my professor sitting quietly, typing away on his computer. 

“Hi Professor Lee.” I greeted. He turned quickly and gave me a bright smile, which was unsettling since it was 7am. 

“Hey! What can I help you with?” He said brightly. Suddenly my fear of meeting him washed away.

“Um, so I just haven’t been doing so well on the tests and I was wondering if you could clarify some terms for me?” He nodded and pulled out a chair for me. I got my notes out while he finished typing an email up. 

“So, how’s it being up at 7am?” He asked suddenly. I let out a nervous chuckle as I swear I could see my breath in his ice cold office.

“It’s... a new experience. I used to wake up at 6:30 for classes, but that was last year. Now my first class is at 9, so I feel like a slug to be honest with you.” He let out a loud laugh, making me feel more welcome.

“I get that, but I’m an old man, and I love sleeping early and waking up early.” I let out a small smile. 

“Yeah, I am usually an early bird too... but I like to wake up early and do nothing.” He chuckled until I held my notes out to me. “So uh, I’m not really understanding 5 styles of leadership and how they relate to Maslow’s hiearchy of needs. Like I understand the 2 separately, but now how the connect.” I explained. 

He nodded and wrote all of them down. “So, autocratic, bureaucratic...”

He went on and on about different questions I asked him about business, but they still felt fuzzy to me. I also learned things I didn’t know before, showing how I wasn’t as good as business as I thought.

“So, what are your favorite movies?” He asked when I was done asking him questions about business.

“Hmmm... right now, it’s The Polar Express?” He laughed loudly and shook his head.

“It’s only November and you’re thinking about Christmas movies?” I nodded frantically. 

“Of course! I’m always thinking about Christmas movies because Christmas is my favorite holiday.” I grinned just thinking about sitting next to my TV and drinking hot cocoa as the snow falls. School will me put on pause and I’ll finally be done with college apps; sounds heavenly. 

“Agreed, I love Christmas too.” I heard a deeper voice come from behind me, making me swivel around. And just my luck, Changbin was leaning against the doorway like he was cool or something. He gave me a quick smile until he turned to face Professor Lee. 

“Hey James, I came to turn in that assignment I missed last week.” Changbin handed him a white paper and I grew curious about how close the boy was to our professor since he called him by his first name. 

“Ah yes, how did your job interview go anyways?” Changbin’s smile brightened up and I felt his ego expand.

“Amazing, I got the job.” He high fived Jame’s hand and backed away. Then he turned to me and gave a look of guilt. “Oh gosh I’m sorry, was I interrupting something?” I shook my head and Prof. Lee did too.

“Nah you’re all good, I was just about done too. See you later Professor Lee.” I turned to walk out the door and unfortunately, Changbin was going the same way. 

“Hey, you’re y/n, right?” I nodded, a bit, ok a lot, surprised that he knew my name. “Cool cool, sorry I’m bad with names.” 

“No big deal.” I hated how I was so cold to guys, and only guys. There’s something about boys like him who make me put this wall up.

“So the Polar Express huh?” Now that caught my attention as I raised a brow. 

“Yup, one of my favorites. Brings back all the Christmas feels I know and love.” The boy nodded enthusiastically. 

“True. Classics give you those feel good vibes.” I nodded, unsure how to respond. “Oh yeah, I almost forgot, I forgot to give you your scantrons back right?” I shrugged. 

“It’s just one-”

“Well how about I treat you to coffee to make up for it?” I paused in my tracks  and raised a brow at him, suspicious at his motives. He gave me a sheepish smile, but I could tell he was waiting in anticipation for my answer. 

“Really?” I stated like I was disinterested, but really my heart was jumping like crazy. I didn’t know if it was because of the cold or nervousness, but his cheeks were tinged a light pink. 

“I mean, like, in a friendly nice way. Not like I’m coming onto you in any way, I swear. Guys who come onto girls too strongly are freaks.” I chuckled at his answer, and how could I say no to that... and free coffee.

“Then fine, I’ll let you buy me some coffee.”

His smile lit up and he ruffled his messy hair that was still messy from pulling his hood down. 

“Oh good, for a split second, I thought you were going to reject me.” He faked his dismay by putting his hand over his heart and clutching it dramatically. I laughed at his silly antics but didn’t let myself become comfortable with him yet. 

The school cafe was just around the cafe so we hit it pretty quickly. 

“Hi, what can I get for you two?” The pretty girl at the cashier greeted. I could tell Changbin was checking her out as he pretended to scan the menu. I wanted to roll my eyes, people who order coffee don’t need the menu, they always know their order. But I didn’t care who he checked out, it wasn’t like I was into him.

“How bout a venti iced americano please.” The girl nodded and wrote it down. 

“And for you?” 

I hummed and scanned the menu, since I, a college rookie, didn’t drink coffee often. But I definitely needed it for the early hour I woke up.

“Um, I’ll just get an tall caramel macchiato.” I didn’t even know what they tasted like, the drink just sounded cute. 

“Great, one venti ice american and one all caramel macchiato, that’ll be 5 dollars 13 cents please. 

Changbin let out a low whistle which made me snap my head at him. 

“What?” I snapped. He laughed and gave me a mischievous grin.

“Nothing, it’s just that I don’t think I’ve ever seen a girl or a guy order a tall coffee in the morning before.” I shrugged and tapped my shoes on the ground-- a habit I had when I was nervous.

“Well, I’m not much of a coffee drinker, so it doesn’t take much to wake me up.” He raised a brow. 

“Wow, not a daily coffee drinker? I’m not sure if I know anyone our age who doesn’t drink coffee every morning.” I shrugged and put my hands in my butt pockets. 

“Well, now you do.” I wiggled my eyebrows jokingly while he laughed at the ground like he was trying to hide his loud laugh. 

Our drinks were soon ready and I grabbed my drink while he grabbed his. I put a little coaster around mine while Changbin talked to the the pretty cashier once more.

“You two enjoy your day.” She gave him a small smile and whipped her hair at him. I felt uncomfortable.

He gave her a small smile and nodded. “You too.”

As we walked away, I gave him a little nudge, as to which he was surprised at. “What?” I scoffed.

“That girl...” I trailed off, hoping he would pick up my sentence. He just stared at me dumbly. “The girl thought you were cute.” 

At my words, he just shrugged and sipped his drink. “Okay... do you agree with her?” Now his words caught me off guard. 

I took a sip of my coffee to wake me up. “Uhhhhhh ... hmmm... uhh..” I heard him laughing at my response and wiped his hands on his pants sicne they were wet due to the condensation to the iced drink.

“Ok honestly, I’m curious! I won’t tease you or anything, I’m just genuinely curious on what a normal person thinks of my looks.” 

Changbin was... hot. To say the least. He was an attractive guy who I’m sure who got lots of girls and got lots of attention, especially with his nice style as well. 

“Ok fine, yes you’re cute, but I’m sure you already knew that.” I said pretty quickly, but he still understood it. His cheeks were flushed and a pretty pink. I knew my cheeks matched mine unfortunately.

He then turned to me and said, “thank you for your deep insight.” I laughed at his boyish humor and I heard him laughing too. 

“You’re pretty funny as well.” He didn’t respond to this compliment but stopped in his tracks. I quickly looked down at my watch and saw that time.

“Oh shit,” I mumbled. 

“What?” He wondered.

I shook my head. “Oh no big deal, I just have class in 5 minutes, so... see you in class?” He nodded slyly and waved me off.

“Definitely, see you later y/n.” 

And as I walked away from him, I felt my heart warm with a feeling I’ve never felt before and an excitement and anxiety I wasn’t sure I liked or hated.

------

Business seemed so far away yet it came so quickly. I walked into business and sat next to Euna who was already waiting for me. 

“Yo, are you drinking coffee?” I nodded.

“Yup, a caramel macchiato.” She gave me a weird look.

She pulled out her bottle filled with tea and raised it to take a sip. “What’s the occasion?” 

“Changbin bought me it.” Euna almost spit her drink up on me, but I pushed her away and she swallowed. “Dude!” I shouted at her. She coughed viciously but ignored me.

“Changbin?? You mean in this class Changbin??” I immediately shushed her and looked around and saw people staring directly me. Oh great.

“Wait, you and Changbin are a thing?” The guy behind me asked. I felt my cheeks heat up at his question. 

I shook my head. “No, we are not.” 

“But he bought you coffee.” I nodded.

“Yeah, um, he owed me a scantron so he just bought me coffee.” The boy named Soonyoung narrowed his eyes at me.

“You know a pack of scantrons are like 50 cents while coffee is like... more than that.” I rolled my eyes and shrugged.

“I don’t know, I just met Changbin practically yesterday.” I felt weird talking about my life, it was just ... weird. 

Suddenly, Changbin walked in and I turned back around. The class was silent. 

Changbin’s laughed filled the silence. “Why is everyone so quiet today?” I leaned back in my chair while Euna patted me on the arm comfortingly. After Changbin’s comment, the conversations resumed and the class was noisy once again. 

“You bought y/n coffee? You never buy me coffee you jerk.” Soonyoung joked while punching him on the arm. Changbin glanced quickly at me but punched Soonyoung back.

“Shut up, I only buy coffees for pretty girls.” He said while looking right at me. Oh my god... how does this guy how such confidence. 

I pretended I didn’t hear it, even though I obviously I did, and faced the teacher while even my professor gave me a small smile. 

“Ok class, today is gonna be a fun day!” The class cheered and whooped in excitement. Everyone hated lectures, so when he spiced it up, we were all thrilled. 

"So, I’m a bit sick and I’m a bit too jumbled to do lecture today, for the first 20 minutes, I’ll lecture, then I’ll let you guys ask me any kinds of questions you want, sounds good?

We all screamed “yes”. 

The lecture seemed to fly by since he had a way with making boring topics fun. 

Then, after the lecture, he pulled out a chair and sat in the middle of the room. “Question time!” He called out while everyone started to raise their hands.

“How old are you?

“Old enough to be your dad.” He laughed and then said “53.” He kept calling on people with ridiculous things like how many pets have you owned throughout your life and then simple questions like what’s your favorite movie? And so on.

“Hey James, do you ever ship your students together?” Soonyoung asked. 

James furrowed his eyes together. “What do you mean?”

“Like, do you ever think 2 students would be a good couple or something?” 

“OHHHH” James laughed and shrugged. “I mean, sometimes, of course I don’t know my student’s sexualities most of the time, but yes sometimes students come up to me, who I know fairly well, and tell me who they find cute and I then ‘ship’ them.” 

“Is that the case right now?” Another student asked. James gave a small smile and shrugged, which meant yes.

“Don’t worry, we all know who it is.” Soonyoung called out while Changbin punched him on the arm.

“It’s probably you and Changbin.” Euna whispered in my ear. I just kicked her leg. 

-----

The class flew by and since it was a Friday, I took my time leaving. Before I could turn to Euna, she was already gone. That rat. 

“Hey y/n.” I heard the familiar voice of Changbin. I felt my heart speed up without wanting it too.

“Hey Changbin, what’s up?” I asked confidently. He seemed a bit taken aback, but he recovered smoothly, as he always did. 

“Uh, so, I was wondering if you had a Snapchat?” I raised a brow and leaned against the table while it was his turn to look nervous. 

“Hmmmm indeed I do. You want it?” He nodded shyly so I felt a bit bad for teasing him. I saw him add me on snap and I added him back quickly. 

“So, coffee is definitely better than a scantron right?” He asked. I laughed at the inside joke.

“Definitely.”

“You know, I think I’m going to have to forget my scantrons more often so I can treat you to coffee more often.” He joked, but I felt like was nervous saying it. 

“Well, you don’t need to forget your scantrons to treat me to coffee.” He paused at my words, letting them sink in. Before he could act on them, I said “bye Changbin, see you Monday.” 

And this time, I felt at ease with my small crush on the boy. 

#stray kids #stray kids scenarios #straykidznet #sk-writersnet #changbin scenarios #stray kids scenario #stray kids oneshot #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #seo changbin #changbin imagines #sk #skz #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz oneshot

[onmywaytobe]

1-50 do it if you dare

ohoho challenge accepted 

(also i love you omg how did you know i love to talk about myself)

(most of them under the cut bc I don’t want everyone to hate me lol)

1.What made you start writing?

My teachers always said I was good at it and tbh I’ve always made up stories with like dolls or stuffed animals or whatever 

2. How old were you when you started writing?

I was 12 when I started my first novel (and that’s still the only novel I’ve ever finished, how about that)

3. What was the first story you ever wrote about?

That first novel is what I’ll count, it was basically self-insert Merlin fanfiction before I knew what fanfiction was, and I changed all the names so nobody would be any the wiser

4. What’s your favorite genre?

I’m really into modern fantasy at the moment, like anything mystical set in modern day I love

5. What’s your least favorite genre?

I can’t do hard sci-fi, I wish I could but it’s too much for me

6. What’s your biggest strength as a writer?

Probably dialogue? I write a lot of scripts where dialogue is the only thing that really matters so I work on that the most

7. What’s your biggest weakness as a writer?

SETTING DESCRIPTIONS nobody knows what anything looks like anywhere and I’m so sorry

8. What writing projects are you currently working on?

I’m waiting for NaNo to start so I can get working on They Met in a Cafe, which is about an art thief who falls in love with the journalist who’s been writing about him

9. Who’s your favorite author?

I think I have to say Tolkien, he was just so iconic

10. Who’s your least favorite author?

Cassandra Clare. 

11. What’s your favorite book?

The Professionals by Owen Laukkanen (it’s so good)

12. What’s your least favorite book?

This book called Best Served Cold by Joe Abercrombie, it took me so long to read and it wanted to be Game of Thrones so badly but it just wasn’t

13. What’s your favorite trope?

MUTUAL PINING (gets me every time)

14. What’s your least favorite trope?

Enemies to lovers (unless done really well) doesn’t always sit well with me, but I know that’s a popular one on here

15. Have you ever gotten anything published?

I don’t think so lol writing is very much just a hobby for me

16. Do you prefer to type or write by hand?

Type, I can write much faster and closer to the speed of my thoughts lol

17. What’s your favorite literary magazine?

I uh…don’t have one

18. Are there any topics you don’t feel comfortable writing about?

Yeahhh nothing too graphic (in terms of torture, sex, death, etc.) I keep it fairly PG-13 except for swearing haha

19. Where do you get your inspiration from?

Literally everywhere, I’ve never had an original thought in my life

20. Do you prefer to write fiction or poetry?

Fiction, I am so bad at writing poetry

21. How long is the stuff you usually write?

Usually I give up around 15-20k into a story, which is unfortunate

22. How do you deal with writer’s block?

I either take a break from writing as long as I can, or I outline the scene as best as I can until I start getting ideas for how to write the actual scene

23. Have you ever taken any creative writing classes?

None specifically dedicated to creative writing, just the general high school ones 

24. Which of your characters has the most in common with you?

Of my current characters, definitely Cam from Descendants of the Earth, he is so soft and loves his friends so much and that’s just me af

25. Who is your favorite character you’ve written about?

I loved my character Colin from my first novel, Stay True, writing him just made me really happy (I think because at the time I was obsessed with Merlin, and he was the Merlin in my story lol) 

26. Who is your favorite fictional character in general?

I would die for Samwise Gamgee but he would never let me 

27. What time of day do you usually write?

I’m trying to get in the habit of writing in the morning on the bus, but it’s usually in the evening when I should be doing homework

28. How much planning and/or research do you do before you start writing?

Usually none at all, I just make stuff up, but for Cafe I’m actually doing a lot of research bc art history is fascinating and I want to represent cystic fibrosis accurately

29. What writing related accomplishment are you the most proud of?

I think the fact that I actually won NaNo last year while also being a college student

30. Have you ever dreamt about your characters?

No but I wish I could omg 

31. What is your ideal writing environment?

In my bed, under a blanket, computer on my lap, nobody else in the house bothering me haha

32. Which published book do you wish you had written?

The Forbidden Game (by L.J. Smith), that book influenced my writing style so much and I love it a lot

33. Which themes do you like to write about the most?

I think I do a lot of found family/ragtag group of friends stuff, and happy endings for everyone who deserves one

34. What is the best advice you have for a beginning writer?

Literally just write. And it will suck and you won’t like to read it. But it’s so much fun if you just do what you love and enjoy it while it’s happening.

35. What is the worst writing advice you’ve ever heard?

 Idk I try to avoid most writing advice, probably just anything that says “never” write something in particular because like….that’s ridiculous

36. Do you prefer pens or pencils?

Pens! I worry about pencil smearing.

37. What traits do your protagonists usually have?

They’re usually stale cinnamon rolls, like they used to be so happy and pure and now they’re cynical and tired. And everyone is so sarcastic, because thats how I am 

38. What is your ultimate writing goal?

I would love to be traditionally published someday, but I don’t see that happening anytime soon if ever

39. What is the weirdest thing you’ve ever written about?

The weirdest thing I actually tried to turn into a full novel was this series about a group of girls who each had different supernatural things happen to them (one was selected to be a fairy princess, one had the power to manipulate fate, one was the daughter of Hades, and one could go back in time)

That actually sounds really cool summed up like that but…it was middle school, it was not good

40. What is the most random fact you’ve ever learned while doing research for a story?

I just recently learned that having cystic fibrosis makes your skin taste salty, so that’s a thing

41. What would you do if you were suddenly teleported into your WIP?

Hug the heck outta Leo (he needs all the hugs) and also try to join the heist crew lol 

42. How many drafts do you usually go through before you finish a piece?

One and a half, I’ve never edited a damn thing in my life lol but I do usually do a read-through after it’s finished and fix some things that I don’t like before calling it good

43. Has your writing ever made you cry?

Not as such, but I’ve made myself really sad while writing Voice of Treason (which is a feature film, not a novel)

44. Would you rather have your WIP adapted into a movie or TV show?

Lol well since Cafe is based on a book within a movie I produced, I have to say that I’d want it made into a movie

It would also make a good movie tbh

45. Where do you share your writing?

Only on here, and I post finished (or close to finished) things on Wattpad

46. What’s your favorite line of your current WIP?

Well I’ve only got the one small section so far, but I really like this line.

She laughed softly, her warm, coffee-stained breath fanning across his face.

47. What’s the first sentence of your WIP?

Currently it’s “Leo nervously slid into the coffee shop, glancing behind him” but that’s subject to change once NaNo starts

48. What’s the last sentence you wrote?

It was actually for DotE, and it was “Logan watched and laughed, grateful to be invited into the fun despite declining the offer.” 

49. What inspired you to write your WIP?

This is actually my favorite question. So I worked on this movie two years ago with these dumb guys, and within the movie there was the character of this writer girl, and she was writing a book called “They Met in a Cafe” and throughout the movie you see her acting out these scenes from the book with her imagination, which takes the form of this cute guy (it was not a good movie lol)

Anyway I decided to take those scenes and basically write the book that she was trying to write in the film, but I’m gonna make it make sense and it’s gonna be so good (hopefully)

50. What’s your favorite thing about your WIP?

I love the whole concept of it, it really just appeals to my silly romantic sensibilities as well as my fascination with art and history in general, I just think it’s really fun

THANK YOU FOR ALL THESE QUESTIONS!! I literally love talking about myself so much and I was in such a bad mood bc my roommate has people over but this made me feel so much better so thank you

#asks #answered #about me #cafe #treason #dote #cam #leo #long post #logan

[nicolabarth]

Birthday Fic: Fangirl’s Heaven

Pairing: Lucifer/Sam Winchester, side Michael/Dean Winchester

Summary: Sam's roommate Becky is a huge serial killer fan, but he's never expected her to invite her celebrity crushes home.

Warnings: Serial Killer AU, serial killer fandom, lots of fangirling, Becky is creepy, crack

A/N: I wrote this for @coplins‘ birthday. Happy Birthday! You said you wanted lots of bickering. So here you go.

Also, I want to thank my beta readers @askatosch, @brieflymaximumprincess and @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell

Read it on AO3

Sam probably needs to find another roommate. It’s not that Becky Rosen isn’t friendly. She’s even stopped being too friendly after some very stern words. But ever since she learned that he’s fascinated by serial killers and knows the body count and the MO of some of them, she thinks he’s one of those people. One of the people that write love letters into prison. Like Becky herself does every week.

That’s probably also why she thinks it’s okay to yank open his door one evening and screech: “The Archangels are free!” on the top of her lungs. As if that’s good news.

Sam looks up from the book he’s been trying to make sense of. “Didn’t they have a life sentence?” He asks.

“They totally did!” Becky is bouncing with barely contained enthusiasm. “But they broke out last night! Tumblr is going nuts right now! I already wrote another Michael x Reader where he needs the reader to hide him and it’s getting new notes by the minute!” She gets a dreamy look, staring at a point past Sam’s right shoulder. “And we’re forming a prayer circle for them to stay safe, and I know it won’t happen, but if Michael showed up here, I wouldn’t even care, if he killed me.”

For a moment, Sam kind of hopes he would, because that would spare him Becky listing everything she likes about Michael – which is a long list. He knows, because he’s heard it already more than once. “You know they’re not actually the typical serial killers?” He says to distract her. “They’re contract killers. So unless someone wants you dead–”

“Yes!” She interrupts him, beaming. “I’m mostly safe, right? I’m just saying, those hands? Imagine them wrapped around your neck!”

So much for distracting her. And that’s another thing Becky assumes about Sam. That the fact that he’s bi means he totally agrees with her when she talks about things she finds hot in men – and that he wants to hear about it. At the beginning he’s tried to stop her, but there’s no stopping Becky when she’s in gushing mode.

“Oh, and what I’d give to touch those abs at least once!”

“Becky,” Sam tries anyway, “I have a test tomorrow.”

“Sam! The Archangels are free! How can you think about tests right now?”

“Right.” Sam sighs. “Maybe you should check how many notes your new œuvre has by now.”

“Oh! Yes! I should!” With that she’s gone and Sam can concentrate on his studies again.

He’s almost ready to go to bed, when there’s a knock on the door of their little student apartment. Frowning, he starts towards the door, but Becky is faster. Sam can hear her moving in the small hallway with it’s kitchen niche. She unlocks the door, then there’s a gasp.

“Oh my god! OH MY GOD!”

If Sam hadn’t known better, he would’ve said Michael was standing outside, judging by Becky’s reaction. But it was probably just some other guy she was having a crush on. She was getting new crushes every week.

“Sssh,” comes a voice. Someone steps into the apartment, then there are more footsteps, more people.

“Oh my god!” Becky says again. The end of it is muffled, as if a hand is clasped over her mouth.

“Raphael, left door,” the voice says. “Lucifer, right door.”

Or maybe it really is the archangels, because Sam knows those names. For a moment he’s frozen in disbelieve. What the fuck did Becky do? She probably gave Michael her address when writing all her love letters didn’t she? In hope of getting one back. Of course she did. Sam curses silently, then hurries to his nightstand. In the upper most drawer, there’s a gun. He manages to wrap his fingers around the handle, before there’s a voice from the door.

“I’d drop that, if I were you. And then turn around. Slowly.”

Damn. Sam lets the gun go and turns around, lifting his hands. In his door stands a blond guy that he remembers vaguely from some Tumblr posts Becky has shown him. Even though those had always revolved around Michael, sometimes the other Archangels had been mentioned too.

So, this is Lucifer. The pictures hadn’t done the intensity justice with which his blue eyes look at Sam. He gives Sam a quick once over, lifts an eyebrow in a way that may imply that he likes what he sees, and motions for Sam to come closer. “Join us out here, will you?”

Sam slowly lowers his hands again, because he feels stupid with them up, but keeps them in sight. He knows the drill from when he’s still worked with his dad and Dean. They’d gotten into trouble often enough. That’s also why his heartbeat stays mostly steady, and only his thoughts are racing, going through his options, trying to assess his chances of making it out of this alive.

He walks closer toward the door, while Lucifer steps out into the hallway again. The gun always stay on him, though. Sam ignores it and looks around. By Becky’s door there’s a shorter man, talking to someone inside her room. And then there’s Michael, who has Becky backed against a wall, knife at her throat and one hand clasped over her mouth.

“You know,” Sam says. He can’t help it, because this is kind of funny. “That’s probably one of her fantasies.”

That makes Lucifer snicker.

Michael pulls a face as if he knows exactly what Sam means. Of course he does. He’s read the love letters. He doesn’t look happy about it, though. “Who are you?” He asks.

“Roommate,” Sam says. “Didn’t tell you about me, did she?”

“Which is a shame,” the short man by Becky’s door says. He must be Gabriel. “Not mentioning someone so–” He catches a dark look from Lucifer and grins. “Freakishly tall,” he ends his sentence.

Michael turns his attention to Becky again. “When you basically invited me to stay here, what did you imagine your roommate would say about that?” He takes his hand away from her mouth.

“You invited him to stay here?” Sam bursts out.

“I’m sorry, Sam!” Becky says. “But how could I not?” Slowly, she lifts a hand and puts it on Michael’s chest. A blissed out expression drifts over her face. “You’re even more beautiful in real life. Your lips, they’re–”

“Answer my question,” Michael interrupts her, knife digging a bit deeper into her skin.

Now there’s a hint of fear on Becky’s face. “Well, I figured you’ll be able to deal with him.”

Wait, did she just really …? “Did you just imply that they should kill me?”

“Wow,” Gabriel comments. “I hope she wasn’t your friend. I’d hate to have friends like that.”

“I’m sorry, Sam!” Becky almost sounds like she really is. “But you have to understand.” Her hand travels up Michael’s chest, and he scowls, grabs her wrist and pins it against the wall. That makes her gasp, and Sam doesn’t even want to be able to tell, if that’s a shocked or an excited gasp. He would almost feel sorry for Michael, if his brother or associate or whatever didn’t still have a gun pointed at Sam.

“Can we not?” Lucifer asks. “I kinda like him.”

Well, at least that’s slightly reassuring. Before Sam can say anything to his defence, the door to Becky’s room opens completely, and a woman with dark hair and high cheekbones appears in the entrance. “I told you this was a bad idea.”

“Well,” Gabriel says, “to our stuck up brother’s defence, we don’t exactly have many friends right now. And she sounded loony enough to be the real deal and not a trap.”

Raphael rolls her eyes. “From what I’ve seen on her computer screen, she definitely is the real deal. I would advise not to read, by the way. Unless you want a description of all of our brother’s … assets in great detail.”

Sam can practically hear Michael roll his eyes. “So no bugs anywhere?”

“No bugs,” Raphael says. “She’s really just a fan.”

“Of course I am!” Becky exclaims. “I’m your biggest fan! Of course I understand that you have to be careful, but–” Michael puts his hand over her mouth again.

“Gabriel, take a closer look at her computer,” he says. “And Lucifer, make sure the roommate doesn’t tell on us. I don’t care how.”

Now Sam’s heart starts to race, while Lucifer backs him into his room again. “Listen,” he hurries to say. “I don’t mind, if you crash here for a while. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

On his way backwards, his knees bump into the edge of his bed, and he half falls half sits down. Lucifer steps closer, barrel of his gun almost touching Sam’s forehead now. And Sam really doesn’t want to be a second Becky, but those blue eyes are mesmerizing. He finds himself staring up at them without being able to look away. “You’ll understand that we can’t just take your word for that.”

“‘Course,” Sam says. He wracks his head for something to say that would make sure he stays alive. Instead he just starts babbling. “But I’ve been there myself. Dad did all kinds of illegal business. My brother is actually in prison right now.” Wait, isn’t Dean in the same prison the Archangels have been. Maybe he can use that? “Maybe you know him. Name’s Dean Winchester. He’s sitting for credit card fraud and burglary.” Hopefully, they don’t know and hate him. It’s been a while since Sam has spoken to Dean. They hadn’t parted on the best terms.

“Dean Winchester?” Now there’s a grin on Lucifer’s face again. “Mike!” He calls. “I think I found your boyfriend’s brother!”

“Don’t kill him!” Michael calls back.

Sam collapses in relief. Michael’s boyfriend? What the fuck? This is the craziest coincidence to ever happen, but right now he takes anything he can get. Lucifer puts his gun away, still grinning. “He wanted to break out with us, got caught, though. Said you’d maybe help us, but he wasn’t sure about it and he wasn’t even sure where you live these days.”

“Well, I’ve been trying to stay out of trouble,” Sam says and can’t help that it sounds a bit reproachful. Now that it’s established that they won’t kill him, he feels bolder. “So it’d be really nice, if you didn’t get caught while staying here. But I’ll help you alright.”

“You can always say we forced you to help us.” Lucifer looks him up and down again, tip of his tongue visible in the corner of his mouth for a moment. “I can always hold you at gunpoint again. You know, that bitchface you made was glorious.”

Sam throws him exactly that bitchface again, and Lucifer laughs. “Wouldn’t be against tying you up either, if you prefer that,” he adds.

“How about you buy me dinner first?” Great. The whole situation is such a throwback to old times that he starts quoting Dean now.

“Good idea,” Lucifer says. “How about I buy you dinner as soon as we’re not number one topic of the news anymore?”

“Seriously?” He’d thought Lucifer was joking. Is he really flirting with him?

Lucifer opens his mouth to answer, but before he can say anything, Gabriel calls from the other room. “Lucifer! Come and look at this!”

“Not now, Gabriel!” Lucifer calls back.

“Seriously! You have to see this!”

Lucifer rolls his eyes, then he extends a hand to help Sam up.

“I have a test tomorrow!” Sam protests.

“And you can go and take your test, but for the time being, I’m not giving you alone time with a phone. Trust is a thing that has to be built slowly.” Lucifer winks. “Also, you don’t expect all of us to bunk in fangirl number one’s room, don’t you?”

Sam had kind of hoped that. “I’m not sharing my bed.”

“That’s a pity, but we’ll make do. Come on now.”

With a sigh Sam takes Lucifer’s hand and allows himself to be pulled to his feet.

Next door Becky is sulking in a corner, while Gabriel and Raphael are huddled together in front of her computer. Michael is leaning against the wall next to the door, arms crossed in front of his chest, not looking amused at all.

“I’ll tell the whole fandom that you’re pretty rude to your fans!” Becky complains.

“We kill people for a living,” Raphael says. “What did you expect?”

“Well, I never liked you anyway!” Becky spits.

“Raphael has killer abs, too!” Gabriel chimes in. He’s rewarded with her elbow in his ribs and a bitchface from Becky.

“I’m not one of those shallow fangirls!” Becky insists. “Of course Michael has the looks of a greek god, but I’ve also analysed all of his kills, and it’s obvious that he’s always very gentle and merciful. That’s what drew me in!”

Next to Sam, Lucifer is laughing silently. “Gentle and merciful.” He snorts. “If you call burning people alive merciful, sure. But maybe you should live up to your reputation and be nice to your fan, Michael. Maybe give her an autograph to make her happy or something.”

In her corner Becky visibly perks up. Well, at least she’s easy to appease.

Gabriel turns to Lucifer and motions for him to come closer. “Come, look! There’s a whole fan community dedicated to us! You wanna know what they say about you?”

Lucifer glances at Sam with a doubtful look in his face. “Do I?”

Now it’s Sam’s turn to grin. “You probably don’t.”

“You’ll hear it anyway,” Raphael says dryly.

“Damn right, sis!” Gabriel turns towards the screen again. “This here is great! It’s a post about Lucifer not sitting in chairs properly during all our court dates. The caption reads: ‘Luci, my precious murder baby. Do you even know how chairs work? Look at him! So adorable!’”

“Did they seriously call me adorable?”

Sam can’t help it, he laughs, even when Lucifer throws him a murderous look.

“Well, let’s see what they write about you.” Lucifer grabs the back of Gabriel’s chair and pulls it back, away from the computer.

Gabriel tries to get up, but Raphael puts a hand in the middle of his chest and pushes him back. “Payback,” she says with a pleased smile. Sam definitely likes her.

In the meantime, Lucifer starts a search for Gabriel’s name. “Oh, look at this!” He calls. “Smol bean Gabriel. Too pure for this world. My sugar loving son. Protect him at all costs!”

Gabriel huffs. “I only ate candy during one court date! One!”

Now even Michael laughs. “They’ll send you lollipops until the day you die.”

“And probably put them on your grave, too,” Lucifer adds.

“Well, at least they love me,” Gabriel says. “Not gonna argue against a crowd of adoring fangirls. And boys. Do I have fanboys, too?”

“And fan nonbinary people probably,” Lucifer says. “It looks like a big crowd.” Then he starts a new search. For a while, there’s silence. “Hey!” He says after a moment. “Apparently ‘gay for Raphael’ is a search tag.”

“Finally some good content.” Raphael lets Gabriel go and steps next to Lucifer. “Let me see.”

Grinning, Lucifer steps back until he’s next to Sam again. “So …” He says in a low voice. “About buying you dinner.”

Sam smiles. “If you don’t make me fail my test, I’ll consider it.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely make sure you pass that test.”

The Archangels stay for a few days, and it’s pretty crowded, but also kind of nice. Sam realizes that he missed Dean, and it’s good to hear news from him. When they finally decide to move on, Sam holds Michael back for a moment. “If you get Dean out later, let me know.”

Michael nods. “You should visit him in prison while you still can.”

Sam smiles. “I’ll consider it.” He probably will.

The next moment there’s a hand on Sam’s shoulder. He turns to look straight into Lucifer’s icy blue eyes. “I’ll let you know about that dinner date.”

He’s definitely persistent. Sam’s smile gets a bit wider. “You do that.”

And that’s the point where they should say goodbye, but for a moment none of them moves. Finally, Lucifer leans forward a bit. Sam’s hands move almost by themselves and find their way to Lucifer’s waist, pull him closer until they’re flush chest to chest.

The next moment their lips meet. It’s a very chaste kiss at the beginning. Then the tip of Lucifer’s tongue flickers out, and Sam chases it, wants more.

A breathless “Oh my god!” from the direction of Becky’s room makes them break apart. When Sam looks over Lucifer’s shoulder, Becky is standing there, hands clasped to her heart. “Don’t mind me! Oh, you’re so cute together! I totally ship you!”

Lucifer pulls a face and Sam can feel himself do the same. He leans closer to Sam’s ear. “You should get a new roommate.”

Sam nods.

A few moments later they’re gone. And Becky leans against the kitchen counter, fanning herself. “Oh my. That was something! They are pretty rude, of course! But everybody will be so jealous of me! And you and Lucifer!” She gets that dreamy look again. “I totally have a new ship!”

Sam very much hopes that doesn’t mean there’ll be fanfic about them, but he fears there will. He makes a mental note to never google himself ever.

“Becky,” he says. “If you tell anyone that they were here, I’ll kill you.”

“Oh my,” Becky says with a smile. “You really fit right in, don’t you?”

He really has to get a new roommate.

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#samifer #sam winchester #lucifer #archangels #spn #supernatural #thearchangelnetwork